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realasslesbian · 2 months ago

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Oh look it's my based twitter on blast by this straight-adjacent woman lmao

Anyway this was a joke me & my moots were having that you clearly aren't getting because you're not a lesbian, but since you're so interested in everything lesbians say & do lemme explain it to you:

The actual irony (that you missed) is that lesbians simply cannot appropriate bisexual women in the same way bisexual women do to lesbians, because bisexual women are a privileged majority group and lesbians a marginalised minority group. Here's that in picture format for you:

Bisexual women are a large group who are catered to by both the LGBTQ+ and straight communities, because it is profitable to cater to majority groups. I know that's very hard for you to hear, I know your identity very much hinges on victimhood, I know you think the one time someone told you to "pick a side" is the same as everything homosexuals have been through. But it's not, sorry, you're incredibly privileged compared to lesbians.

A common behaviour of the privileged to the oppressed is "appropriation". Think wearing indian headdresses at festivals or racist halloween costumes or blackface. The privileged will pick and choose what they like, sanitise of its original meaning, wear it as a cute little fashion accessory, all the while still actively shitting on the marginalised minority they stole it from.

Y'all privileged bisexual women chose the word femme and sanitised of its original female-centric meaning, to the point everyone now feels entitled to use that word, from women in heterosexual relationships to whole ass males. Your appropriation of the word femme has utterly destroyed the power that word had in giving a name to the small minority of exclusively same-sex attracted women who performed femininity for other women. What was once a word that expressly referred to homosexuality has been watered down to a synonym of feminine. A rich aspect of lesbian history gone, erased, invisible, thanks to you.

(Funnily enough when y'all were picking and choosing you didn't so much choose the word butch, I guess because men just hate butch lesbians so much it's hard to sanitise the original meaning out of it and make it fashionable to this male-centric world. But I digress.)

Now, I understand you've probably scoffed your way through all the above and that's because you're privileged enough to not know the insidious, destructive impact of appropriation. It will never happen to you on the basis of your bisexuality, because bisexuals are a majority group.

I, as a lesbian, simply cannot do the same to the words "stag" and "doe" as your community has done to lesbians. Lesbians have neither the numbers or the privilege. I can say "I'm a stag lesbian" with as much malicious intent as I like, it will not impact you. Perhaps what would be a more accurate metaphor is if every straight man started calling himself a bisexual woman, while continuing to engage in the most privileged, straight man behaviour possible. That might be more in the ballpark of what bisexual women do to lesbians. But even so bisexual women are such a large demographic it likely still wouldn't cause the same level of harm.

In any case, a lesbian "appropriating" the terms of bisexual women actually, if anything, benefits bisexual women. Your community constantly strives for visibility on the basis of your same-sex attraction. That's WHY you appropriate the words of lesbians, that's WHY you're always minimising the differences between bisexual women and lesbians, because lesbians are the infamous face of same-sex attracted females. It benefits you on your quest for same-sex attracted visibility to be seen as adjacent to lesbians.

The opposite is true for lesbians. We are already seen by society as adjacent to bisexuals. The idea that lesbians could be inclusive of men has long been a particular point of lesphobic rhetoric. Bisexuals appropriating lesbian words is entirely in line with heteronormative expectations and extremely problematic for lesbians. We require visibility on the basis of our EXCLUSIVE same-sex attraction to females, which EXCLUDES males. Bisexuals (i.e. male-attracted and male-inclusive women) taking the very few words lesbians have to describe our exclusive attraction to females is so very destructive.

The final straw is that bisexual women DO have their own words and, like I said in the OP, you have all the majority group status and privilege you need to popularise them. Idc if you don't like those words. Make ones you do like. The state of your entitlement to think "oh I don't like these words" is an excuse to appropriate a marginalised minority group is just so mind-boggling to me. You absolutely would not survive a day facing the kind of shit you subject lesbians to.

TL;DR the joke was that a lesbian saying "I'm a stag tee hee" is such a small, petty swipe in the context of the colossal bisexual community utterly destroying the culture of an extremely small, extremely marginalised, minority group. But go on, scream biphobia and keep refusing to listen to lesbians while consuming every aspect of our being. It's not like anyone can tell you no.

found something that was so hilarious to me that i wanted to post and talk about its irony here

linked post in the second screenshot

i find it really funny that radfem/exclus lesbians assume we think like they do and are overly possessive and hostile over our history and culture being cut off from the rest of queerness, which has historically been VERY OPEN.

let me make this clear: most bisexuals online do NOT CARE if monosexuals "take our terms", especially considering the fact that our community overwhelmingly rejects and despises doe/stag and any other alternate replacement terms for butch/femme that we're expected to use.

if some lesbians wish to use these terms instead, if only ironically to spite bisexual butches & femmes who identify that way genuinely after being informed (you tell me who's really using which improperly lmao?), then be my guest. useless presentation labels solely for the aesthetic or whatever seem based enough to me, and also to most normal people who have no intention to gatekeep something that isn't so serious to do so with at the end of the day. i have no intention of giving that power to your pathetic attempt.

i even came across this doe lesbian flag a while back, and have yet to hear of any damage done to bisexual sapphics after our precious term was appropriated and tainted by any who might use it. (/sarcastic)

if anything, i would venture to guess that doe/stag were only coined exclusively back in, what 2016?, because the LGB(T) were under this unfounded ahistorical social contract that each should be kept to their own and sharing in any direction is bad, actually (it's not, never has been). otherwise they wouldn't have even been created in the first place, y'know?

^^^ and i will admit that such reasoning is probably the motivation behind why i wrote this contradictory post more than a couple years ago; and while after re-reading it i do still somewhat stand by my reasoning for the sentiment based on the origin, at the end of the day it just does not matter and it won't destroy the balance of the universe if i can't be bothered to care. the statistical number of bi women & lesbians who use each other's terms is so minimal and unaffecting that this discourse is the only thing even bringing awareness and attention to it.

TL;DR ─ use whichever labels you wish if you like them enough and before you "steal" something to teach a lesson in favor of exclusionism, make sure it isn't from people who have always radically believed that sharing and accepting with the fellow marginalized is a good thing!

alternate TL;DR, as a friend of mine likes to put it: "do whatever you want forever"

#lesbian #lesbian invisibility #lesbian erasure #lesphobia

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woman-loving · 3 years ago

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Who is a Malaysian lesbian?

Selection from “Queering the State: Towards a Lesbian Movement in Malaysia,” by Rais Nur and A.R., in Amazon to Zami: Towards a Global Lesbian Feminism, ed. Monika Reinfelder, 1996.

This selection from a 1996 book discusses lesbian identity in Malaysia from a lesbian feminist perspective. It acknowledges a range of meanings that “lesbian” can have, and selects one defined by sexual practice. Note that many women didn’t identity as “lesbian” themselves, and that the term was defined and applied here according to the authors’ goals. The authors also touch on multiple “butch” identities, “femme” identity (“femmes” weren’t seen as unable to be with men), and potential political dimensions to lesbian identity.

We felt it was necessary to give our definition of the term ‘lesbian’, given the multiplicity of definitions in currency. These range from extremely broad definitions of the word, which include metaphorical[2] (e.g. notions of ‘lesbian’ as a space or positionality) or emotional dimensions (e.g. a woman whose primary emotional attachments are formed with other women, though she may not necessarily have sex with them), to definitions which are strictly narrow and literal, and which have sexual intimacy between women as their lowest common denominator (i.e. a woman can be called a lesbian only if she has sex with other women, whatever the other dimensions of her relationships with, or the depth of her feelings for, them). However, despite the diversity of meanings of the word ‘lesbian’, and the rich range of experience it can be said to cover, we believe that our purposes in this essay would best be served by limiting our use of the term to apply to any woman who has sexual relations with other women.

This definition is not unproblematic, as such a narrow definition necessarily excludes many people who consider themselves lesbian but do not practise lesbian sex, such as lesbian celibates or other women-identified women. In fact, early on it our research, we wanted to include women who identified themselves as lesbian as part of our definition, and therefore hinge our definition on the self-identification of the woman concerned. This, however, became untenable, because as we progressed we came across many women who have sexual relations with women but do not use the word ‘lesbian’ to describe themselves. For some of these women, such a word was alien to them, and in some cases they were hardly aware that other lesbians existed. Others were familiar with the concept of homosexuality, but used words other than ‘lesbian’ to identify themselves. Thus we decided that our use of the term would refer to women who have sexual relations with other women, regardless of whether or not they used the word to describe themselves.

Our knowledge is primarily of urban and middle-class lesbians, although we have made attempts to access the experiences of others. Lesbianism is a phenomenon which exists very much underground, in the sense that there is very little public discourse about it (and what little there is frequently pathologizes it) and very few safe spaces in which lesbians can be out or come together to share their experiences. Furthermore, the experience of being a lesbian in Malaysia is heavily influenced by ethnicity and class. These two factors make it difficult to extract an account of lesbian experiences which can address lesbian existence in both urban as well as rural areas, and apply across class and ethnic divides.

Unlike gay men, who have been united through work against HIV/AIDS, there has been no similar phenomenon which has sparked this move towards a sense of community for lesbians, so that by and large there are many tight-knit groups, based on race or class, which do not intermingle with each other: Malay lesbians generally have a different network and socialize at different places from Chinese and Indians, working class from middle class, urban from rural, etc.

The players

In as far as it is possible to generalize, one aspect which can be said to be common to all these different subcultures is role-playing, or the construction of lesbian identity around notions of the ‘butch’ and the ‘femme’, with their attendant ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’ traits. While Western countries like the UK and the USA have recently seen a resurgence of the butch and the femme in lesbian culture, this has mainly been dictated by fashion and the ‘lesbian chic’ trend, which in the UK saw many straight women dressing like dykes and lesbian characters suddenly appearing in various soap operas, and partly by postmodern notions of parody, irony and ‘genderfuck’. That is to say, while some lesbians do take butch/femme roles seriously in these countries, many others see adopting these roles as a fashionable thing to do and/or a way of subverting essentialist notions of sex and gender, and parodying notions of identity/sexuality as stable and immutable rather than fluid and constantly changing. So a lesbian who dresses as butch one day may very well decided to dress as a femme the next, and vice versa.

In Malaysia though, butch/femme roles are taken very seriously by the majority of lesbians, and there is no element of playfulness or parody to them. The word ‘butch’, though generally used to refer to a lesbian who adopts or exhibits traits and behaviour socially deemed to be masculine, in fact covers a continuum of identifications or definitions. At the lower end of the scale is the ‘tomboy’ who dresses in a boyish manner, generally looks like a cute boy, and yet is still possible to tell that she is female. The tomboy figures in all cultures.

‘Peng-kids’ occupy the middle of the continuum, and are generally associated with Malay working-class lesbians. The word ‘peng-kid’ is derived from ‘punk kid’, as they are deemed to have borrowed heavily from punk culture in terms of their attire. Peng-kids often feel that they are men trapped in women’s bodies. They bind their breasts as well as use men’s underwear and aftershave. They are renowned as very loyal and extremely attentive and generous to their girlfriends. The peng-kid phenomenon, which can be traced back to the 1970s, is now very widespread and exists in both rural and urban Malay communities. The term has also been adopted among some Chinese lesbians, who abbreviate it to ‘PK’.

Finally, there are the ‘hardcore’ butches. In the West, what is known as a ‘bulldyke’ or ‘bulldagger’ would be the closest equivalents to the local hardcore. Whereas peng-kids feel that they are men trapped in women’s bodies, and thereby acknowledge their femaleness to some degree, in many cases, these hardcore butches do not even perceive themselves as women, and pass as men whenever possible. Many consider the idea of sex-change operations seriously as some stage in their lives. Hardcores exist in all cultures in Malaysian society, but appear to be predominately working class.

Butch identifications in Malaysia are therefore multiple and complex. Things become simpler when we come to femme identity. Generally, femmes are perceived to be straight women in disguise, or women who, although they might be involved in a lesbian relationship, have the option to ‘become normal’ and conduct relationships with men. A femme’s lesbianism is therefore not seen as essential or fixed; whereas butches see themselves, and are perceived, as having no choice about their sexuality--they are definitely and incontrovertibly lesbian. Many femmes have lesbian relationships in order to avoid the complications of becoming pregnant, which might happen in heterosexual relationships. Another reason why femmes prefer butches to men is that they believe they are more secure in a relationship with a butch, since it is not as easy for butches to abandon one woman for another as it is for men, given the relatively small lesbian subcultures which exist in Malaysia.

In many senses, this emphasis on roles is very restrictive, and those who resist defining themselves in such a way often find that they are treated with distrust and hostility by their peers, as are lesbians who change identifications. There is some degree of policing within the lesbian communities in Malaysia, and what is acceptable in terms of clothing and appearance, sexual practices and roles is clearly defined and strictly enforced. This means that lesbians who reject such pressures and constructions of identity are excluded. More importantly, in their insistence on butch/femme identifications such lesbians reinforce the stereotypical notions of lesbians and lesbianism harboured by society at large, rather than challenging them or presented alternative constructions of identity, alternative ways of being lesbian.

Partly, this dependence on roles has to do with the fact that lesbians feel beleaguered by the homophobia and hostility of society as a whole, and therefore do not trust people easily--choosing a role and sticking with it signifies a willingness to belong, to play by the rules, and indicates that one is an ‘insider’ rather than an ‘outsider’ and therefore can be trusted. But we feel it is also partly to do with the lack of any political dimension to lesbianism in Malaysia, restricting it solely to the sexual dimension.

Lesbians in the West have played a prominent role within feminist campaigning since the 1960s, and have contributed greatly to, and learned a lot from, feminism and its insights. Lesbian and queer theory, as it exists in the West today, has its roots in the feminist movement, and has built upon feminism’s interrogation of the categories of gender, its assertion, for example, that, as Simone de Beauvoir put it, ‘one is not born a woman, one becomes one’. ‘Masculinity’ and ‘femininity’ were shown to be states of being which were socially constructed and therefore avoidable, rather than biological and inevitable.

While, on the one hand, many feminists made the political decision to become lesbians in the light of feminism’s analyses of gender relations, and as a logical extension of their politics, on the other, many lesbians used and extended the analytical foundations laid down by feminism to challenge and deconstruct the institution of heterosexuality--to expose it as an instrument of patriarchy or, at any rate, something which is neither more natural nor more inevitable than any other sexual preference or tendency. Lesbian feminists, in line with the early feminist tenet that ‘the personal is political’ therefore identified the realm of sexuality and sexual practices as the locus of much patriarchal power and oppression, and proceeded to problematize heterosexuality and politicize lesbianism, arguing that it represented a subversive force in its refusal to fall in with dominant/patriarchal concepts of what is natural or permissible in society.

This perception of lesbianism as having a political dimension rather than simply a sexual one, of being not simply something restricted and limited to the bedroom, but having wider implications and political resonances, is, however, largely absent in Malaysia. There is very little sense (or perceived need) here that lesbianism is or can be a political force, or that it can be used to critique or challenge dominant patriarchal and heterosexual ideologies and institutions. We believe that his has to do with the fact that feminism, which is closely connected with the lesbian movement in the West, has not translated well here, nor has it had the impact which it had in the West. As a newly industrializing country, Malaysia faces different challenges and has different priorities to that of ‘first world’ or Western countries, and often feminism is not perceived to be, or made relevant to, the needs and lives of women here.

At any rate, without feminism’s insights on how patriarchy works to oppress women and how gender roles function to reinforce patriarchal power, many lesbians simply adopt heterosexual notions of gender and replicate heterosexual relationships without questioning or problematizing them. It may, of course, be argued that these lesbians adopt butch/femme roles as a conscious eroticization of difference.[3] But we believe that it is rather a case of a lack of alternatives. The invisiblizing of lesbians in society, and the lack of roles models who practise alternative ways of defining themselves or conducting relationships, of course reinforces the above.

#lgbtq #lesbian #malaysia #what is a lesbian #lesbian feminism #amazon to zami #butch femme #lesbians

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ericamzdm · 4 years ago

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S1E1 and Emotional Abuse

Apparently my feelings do expand beyond five screenshots.

So! I’m going to take the Catra/Adora segments from the first ten minutes of SheRa apart, with a focus on Adora. It’s going to be dry, and it’s going to be talking about emotional manipulation and abuse at length, so please feel free to stop reading if that’s not something you want to deal with.

Frankly, the Adora/Catra content in S1E1 makes my skin crawl on a re-watch. It’s not that I don’t like the characters - I’m actually quite fond of both of them! But this episode is extremely on the nose about what it’s means to be raised in an abusive environment, and how easy it is to perpetrate abuse when it permeates your sense of what is normal and how things work.

Before we get into the episode itself, a definition. (I did say this was going to be dry)

Abuse is:

Intentional - Accidents aren’t abuse. (although abusers will lie about intent)

Harmful/Controlling (to/of the victim) - harm/control is the primary mechanism abusers use to obtain their goal, rather than an incidental effect.

Beneficial (to the abuser) - Abuse is perpetrated to get the abuser something, even if just a ‘thrill of power’.

If it doesn’t hit all three, it may be bad, and it may make the perpetrator a jackass, but it’s almost certainly not abuse.

The first relevant scene is where Catra is late to class (sorry, “evaluation”). Adora’s “Where’s Catra/*scoffs* Not again/She’ll be here, I promise” is, in itself, fairly benign, but already shows that Adora’s concern for Catra veers into controlling territory. Who is she, to make promises on Catra’s behalf?

Catra eventually does show up, and we get a lengthy ‘playful banter’ sequence that almost reassures you that their relationship is reasonably normal and healthy. They have in-jokes! And laugh! And give/take jabs in good faith!

And then Shadow Weaver shows up. And this happens.

Just to be very clear here. Adora physically dragged a visibly uncomfortable Catra into an encounter with someone who we shortly learn (and Adora is fully aware) is her abuser.

BREAKING FOR A PSA: The above ALONE makes her a fundamentally unsafe person for an abuse victim/survivor to be around. I have cut people from my life for this kind of thing. DON’T FORCE PEOPLE INTO UNWANTED INTERACTIONS. IT IS SUPER UNCOOL.[/PSA]

*coughs* We now return you to an overwrought analysis of a Y7 cartoon...

Let’s review that definition of abuse!

Is Shadow Weaver acting with intent to cause harm as a way to benefit herself?

It sure seems like it! The intent and harm are self-evident. The benefit is a little harder to grasp - but ‘thrill of power’/intimidation would cover it.

Conclusion: Shadow Weaver is abusive. Also, the sky is blue!

Now, the more interesting question: Is Adora acting with intent to cause harm as a way to benefit herself?

...and (While the PSA holds) the answer is probably no. While the interaction wasn’t an accident, it’s pretty clear that the way it played out, and the harm caused, were not Adora’s intent. This wasn’t, strictly speaking, abusive.

It was, however, negligence and intentional ignorance that borders on abuse. Catra clearly knew how this was going to roll. Adora doesn’t exactly seem shocked by Shadow Weaver’s actions. So what the heck did she think she was doing?

The bright, happy explanation: Adora wanted her friend to be rewarded for her good work! She was being kind and selfless! She believes that Shadow Weaver is ultimately fair and rewards merit, because she’s just too intrinsically good to imagine a world that works any other way!

The ...less bright and happy explanation: Adora wants/needs Catra to be fairly rewarded, not for Catra’s benefit (“I thought you didn’t care about that!” is a refrain that will come up), but for her own. Adora needs to believe that the Horde/SW are as meritocratic as they claim to be, because if they are not, then her own accomplishments are meaningless favouritism; and to accept that would be an unrecoverable blow to her ego. So, into the line of fire Catra goes!

Catra rolls over, Shadow Weaver turns to exit and we get ...ugh, this.

A visibly distressed throughout Catra pulls herself together enough to manage a half-hearted ‘It’s Fine’ shrug at Adora’s Questioning Look. Adora blithely accepts the shrug with that smile (”Oh good, everything is okay!”).

This time, the disregard for Catra’s emotional state does slip over that border into abusive/manipulative territory. Adora is seeking (intent) reassurance/absolution (benefit) that requires Catra to bury/sublimate her own distress(Harm). The smile is the clincher - it’s what makes it clear that, from Adora’s perspective, this was the desired/expected response. Now Adora can run after Shadow Weaver guilt-free, looking for her Good Girl Cookies!

Not going to cover the hallway sequence in depth; will just note that it is itself a laundry list of abuse and abuse flags. Shadow Weaver is just all around awful, really.

A friendly reminder that this next Catra/Adora scene starts with Catra being happy for Adora! Tickled pink! Adora is going up in the world! They need to celebrate!

The upset comes when Catra is informed that, not only is she not getting an equitable reward to Adora, despite equal performance (It’s fine. She doesn’t care. she does She knows that was never going to happen.), but that she’s not getting any reward at all. And yeah, that’s upsetting! It’s grossly unfair, even by Shadow Weaver standards (we are led to infer). “What is her problem with [Catra]?”

(Unsurprisingly, neither of them recognize ‘separate the victim from their support structure’ as the blatant abuse tactic that it is, rather than anything they could have had a hope of influencing.)

And Adora comes up with this. This right here.

This is well over the line into manipulative/abusive - Adora is blaming Catra (harm) with the implicit goal (intent) of avoiding addressing the fundamentally unfair nature of the situation (benefit).

As above - Adora’s self-worth hinges on the rewards she receives being ‘valid’. If she accepts that they aren’t - that her success is a product of favouritism (or, you know, victim grooming) - it would shatter her.

But this defence mechanisms is actively harmful to Catra; it prevents Adora from acknowledging Catra’s treatment as unfair/abusive. Rewards in the Horde must be fair; if Catra is not being rewarded, it must be because of something that Catra has chosen to do/not do, just like Shadow Weaver said.

(The Just World hypothesis is a heck of a thing.)

Oh, hey, we’ve got the first instance of Catra being genuinely mean. It just took Adora victim blaming her.

So, is this abuse? Let’s see.

The harm is easy - Adora is upset at being called a people pleaser.

The intent - Well. Catra is clearly aware that this will upset Adora, but is upsetting Adora her goal? And...I don’t think it is, really. Catra’s intent - her desire - is to have Adora admit she enjoys and seeks validation. That she is, in fact, a people pleaser.

And this is basic Hierarchy of Needs stuff? It’s like wanting someone to admit that they enjoy food and shelter. Of course she does! Everyone does! Adora’s denial here is low-key bonkers, and speaks to her dysfunctions around love and validation.

So what we have is: “Catra wants (intent) Adora to admit she benefits from the validation she receives, and thus acknowledge Catra’s lack of validation as hurtful (benefit)”. This isn’t abuse, because the harm is incidental. The upset Adora experiences isn’t necessary (and is in fact interfering with the goal).

All Adora had to do to defuse this was say “Yes, I do like being rewarded. It sucks and is unfair that you weren’t.”

Instead. Well.

We get this. A classic sorry-not-sorry.

Adora wants (intent) Catra to stop being upset and forgive her (benefit), so implies that Catra’s upset is invalid(harm) [she can’t be angry over not getting something she didn’t want].

Adora tries(intent) to guilt-trip(harm) Catra for having had other emotions, so that she will go back to being happy for Adora(benefit).

And it’s only when that doesn’t work that she breaks out the skiff key.

Getting someone an extravagant gift (”love-bombing”) isn’t abusive in itself, but it can absolutely be part of an abusive cycle. Adora has decided that, instead of assessing her own behaviour to identify and address the valid reasons Catra is angry, she’s just going to do something reckless and extravagant to temporarily please her. It’s selfish and manipulative, and doesn’t solve anything. All those hurts are still there, and are inevitably going to boil over again, even if Plot didn’t interfere.

And, just. All of this. All of this stuff coming from Adora is super, super unhealthy. A lot of it is textbook emotional abuse. And I know where she gets it from! Shadow Weaver is her model for a Reasonable Authority Figure! It’s a wonder she’s not worse.

But, I find it ... not a little distressing that people can apparently go back and watch this episode and go (depending on anti status) either “LOL Catra so terrible.” or “Oh boy, what a beautiful, romantic relationship.” Because. Yergh.

You want to know one of the things that makes emotional abuse so awful? No one sees it. Adora isn’t yelling or hitting or being angry, so it’s not possible that she’s hurting Catra every time she trivializes her feelings with a smile, or smirks and blames Catra for her own hurt. Why, Adora is sad when she demands Catra’s preformative joy! Clearly Adora needs that validation more than Catra deserves ownership over her own feelings!

No, it’s clearly Catra who’s at fault, because she’s the ANGRY one. She’s the one hissing and yelling and running away and pushing back about all this hurt that clearly never happened, because hasn’t Adora always been so wonderful and calm? If Catra was right, why can’t she be ~rational~ about it? She’s must be just crazy, bad, selfish, abusive.

And...can we just not? Can we just, for once, take a miss on looking at a fictional character who is being explicitly emotionally abused and blaming them because they aren’t reacting like a perfect pristine angel, and are at fault for not Calmly Discussing their way out of an abusive situation? Please? Just for this ten minute segment?

#abuse #emotional abuse #emotional manipulation #spop #adora #catra #shadow weaver #I have so many feelings #look this stuff is upsetting #i don't know how they got away with including it in a kids cartoon #this is as done as its going to get #i should go work on something soothing for a while

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joheun-saram · 4 years ago

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To Make a Power Couple (knj) | 03

Chapter 3 - Coincidences

previous| masterlist | next

Summary- Do their dates ever go according to plan? Well, who knew watching George Clooney was such an aphrodisiac.

word count- 6.2k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, slow burn, fluff, smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- unwanted sexual advances (don’t worry, it’s not namjoon and it’s not overly discussed), alcohol consumption, oral sex (f. receiving), hickeys, dry humping, sex

a.n- okay so I wrote my first smut scene. AAAAH. I’m sorry if it’s not the best - I tried and realized I don’t know how to get into a guys headspace during sex lmfao 🙃 Namjoon is also a high-key cheeseball and God of Destruction strikes. I’m sorry but I had to - his face when he breaks things makes me simultaneously laugh and uwu.

Also, in case you missed it I have a lot of feelings about Batman having a credit card. Batman and Robin is an absurd movie but I still love it.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut, @rjsmochii, @jinjccns

You were greeted by Siwon and a coffee as you walked to the elevator of your office building yawning furiously, uncharacteristically dressed in a navy pantsuit with a white turtleneck in anticipation of your big meeting today. To say you were nervous would be an understatement. You were meeting one of the big tech companies’ senior VP and your deal hinged on his approval. You were not looking forward to it - he was a certified creep.

“Alright so your meetings in about four hours, we can finish the proposal in about two and then we can prep for the next two.” Siwon was in full assistant mode, rattling off details to add to the proposal that unbeknownst to him you had already finished last night.

“Proposal’s done so let’s skip to the prep,” you say as you step out of the elevator to your floor.

“Did you stay late? Yah Y/N! You know you can’t overwork like that! Also, this building is so creepy at night. Don’t tell me you stayed here alone.” He scolded you, effortlessly switching from employee to friend. You loved that he cared so much about you.

“I’m sorry, but if it makes you feel better - I wasn’t alone.” As you make your way to your desk you notice the kitchen filled with pink pastry boxes. “What’s all that?” you questioned as you forego your desk making a beeline for the kitchen, having skipped breakfast that morning for a much needed hour of sleep.

“What do you mean you weren’t alone?” Siwon was looking at you suspiciously with his eyebrow quirked. When you reached the boxes you noticed that they were filled with all sorts of breakfast goodies, from croissants to danishes to doughnuts. Your mouth watered as you grabbed a buttery croissant, anticipating the taste before it even made it on your plate.

“Y/N! Someone sent them over this morning with this note.” Timothy, your head of curriculum, handed you a pink envelope that matched the boxes. Placing your breakfast on the table you opened the note, hoping it wasn’t a client because that meant you would have to send something to them and would get caught in one of those one-upping gifting circlejerks. Arguably the worst part of corporate life.

Good luck on your meeting today. I’m rooting for you!

-N

PS: this is also your reminder to drink water - stay hydrated! ;)

Your mouth flew open as you reread the note, a grin slowly spreading on your face. As Siwon read over your shoulder, he gasped loudly. Luckily no one else was within earshot or else they would notice you not so gently elbow your assistant and call HR.

“Oh my god… Is this from who I think it’s from?” He sputtered, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Was he the one keeping you company last night?”

“What? NO!” You giggled nervously as he playfully smacked your arm. “Maybe…” you whispered, shrugging, giving in to his charms.

“Is this why you are wearing a turtleneck? Did he rock your world? Did he bangtan that sonyeondan?”

“Shut up please!” You hissed at Siwon. You really wished you had a closed office now as you walked to your desk and grabbed your laptop, going into one of the meeting rooms that hopefully no one else booked that morning.

“So spill.” Siwon said as he settled into the chair next to you on the long stained oak table.

“There’s nothing to spill. We worked together and had pizza. And before you ask, no we did not have sex. It was our first date!” You huffed as you started your laptop.

“What did you do to him?” He asked in awe.

“Excuse me?” You were getting irritated now. To insinuate that you did something to him was pretty callous of Siwon. It reminded you of the times in university when your best friend dropped you because her crush told her that he liked you instead of her. You had no intentions of liking that guy, he was honestly not your type, too lazy and self-entitled to ever catch your attention, but she did not hesitate in cutting all ties and insisting you moved out of your shared apartment. According to her, you seduced him with your looks and personality. Pfft. As if life were so easy that you could manipulate whoever you liked into liking you back. However, Siwon was unaware of this incident so you decided to calm your annoyance a little.

“Sorry. I mean he’s sending the whole office breakfast after a first date. He must really like you.” He caught on to your tone and corrected himself. He was good at catching your tonal nuances by now, and you were grateful.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to get annoyed.” You sighed, smiling forcefully, as you pulled up the proposal you worked on earlier that morning. “I really like him too.” You admitted. It kind of felt nice to share that with someone. Usually you would pick up your phone the moment you felt a date go right and tell Jiyoung right away, but knowing what a huge fan she was you wanted to feel out the situation more before she got too excited.

While relaying the events of last night to a very excited Siwon, you texted Namjoon.

Y/N: Wow. Breakfast for the whole office? Big moves.

Namjoon: Well I am trying to woo the CEO. Gotta bring in the big guns!

Y/N: And you think you can woo me with baked goods?

Namjoon: That depends…

Namjoon: Is it working?

Y/N: Yes. Yes it is...

Y/N: Thank you btw. This was really sweet!

Namjoon: Then everything is going according to plan :)

Y/N: I’m excited for tonight

Namjoon: Me too! I miss you!

Y/N: Joon you saw me like eight hours ago!

Namjoon: Eight hours too long!

Y/N: Omg! Stop! You’re so cheesy...

Namjoon: Never!

You walked into the conference room with Harry and Siwon twenty minutes before noon and the three of you started setting up, nerves on high alert. You wrung your hands as you rearranged the printouts on the table for the sixth time, before Harry pulled you into a hug.

“You got this bub! We’re gonna kill it and then celebrate and blow all the money from this deal.” You laughed as your nerves melted. This was the reason he was your best friend and partner in crime. You got out of the embrace, infinitely more calm as you settled in your seat at the end of the table.

Soon, your client, Mr Li, arrived with two other people from his team. The presentation went smoothly if you were to ignore the fact that every time you glanced at Li his eyes seemed to be fixated on your chest. His team, however, was much less sleazy. After you finished presenting, you and Harry spent about an hour answering their questions and concerns before negotiating another lucrative contract for your company. With this deal done, you will be able to meet your company’s quarterly goals.

As soon as the meeting ended, Li’s team, now joined by their legal team, that arrived a few minutes before the end, was escorted to your legal floor to sort out the details of the contract.

“So this is a cause for celebration!” Li booms loudly as he shakes Harry’s hand, before pulling you into an unwanted hug. The hug was extremely tight as you felt your chest being squished by his, knocking the air out of you. You awkwardly try to escape, confused by his less than professional behaviour, eyes widened and staring at Harry. “We should all get some drinks in a few weeks to truly seal the deal.”

“Yes, we will definitely set up something with our assistants. I’m not sure if Y/N will be able to join because of her hectic schedule, but I will definitely be there.” Harry swiftly stepped in to shake Li’s hand one more time, subtly but clearly giving you an out. You were immensely relieved till you heard Li’s next words.

“It’s no party without the CEO. I bet she’s a real firecracker with a few drinks in her!” He laughed full-bellied, elbowing an uncomfortably stunned Harry as you gave him a tight lipped smile.

“Of course. We’ll set something up soon, Mr Li. Now if you excuse me I have another meeting to attend. We’re very excited to work with you!” You forced a fake smile as you exited the cringe-inducing situation. You grabbed some water when you reached your desk, drinking it to get the nasty taste of the situation out of your head. Sometimes you truly hated having to plaster a smile to appease clients, but unfortunately it was part of the job.

Your mood lightened significantly as your phone buzzed, instantly forgetting about the creepy old man. You picked up to hear Namjoon’s baritone voice greeting you as you ducked into a small meeting room, locking the door and settling on the comfy couch at the end.

“How did it go?” He seemed a bit out of breath.

“Nailed it! Although the guy was a certified creep.”

“Oh I’m sorry for that. What happened?” Genuine concern laced his tone.

“He just didn’t have any concerns for personal space” you sighed but your heart warmed at his worry for you. “Why are you out of breath?”

“That sucks! I just got done with dance practice.” He quickly picked up on your hesitance to go into further detail. “I haven’t danced this intensely in a while!”

“Oh! I would love to see you dance!” You giggled.

“Trust me I’m not good. It is not worth it.”

“I don’t believe you. I guess I’ll have to see it to judge for myself.”

“Hmm… maybe. Fair warning, there are literal twitter pages dedicated to my terrible moves.”

“Well then those people are assholes. I bet they’re jealous because you are an amazing dancer.”

_________________________________

Namjoon hung up the call and stared at the call log on his phone, displaying that he had been on the phone with you for over thirty five minutes. It felt like it had been barely two. He didn’t know why talking to you improved his mood this much, but just hearing your voice was enough to make him forget the stress from messing up the choreography almost every run though this morning, and especially Hoseok’s disappointing face as he tried and failed to correct his moves.

Getting back to the big mirrored room, he decided to go through the steps again alone to really nail down the routine, his head full of your plans later this evening. Initially, he had planned a romantic dinner to a high end restaurant in Gangnam but after his manager’s email this morning that he might be being followed, you both had decided on a quiet evening at your apartment. You had insisted it would be safer this way since the suspected stalker would not know where he was going, but he still felt a little uncomfortable about possibly putting your home in danger. He remembered when Yoongi had a stalker three years ago and they all had to pretty much be holed together in the dorms to ensure their safety. Luckily, they were smarter now with a much larger budget for security so these incidents barely encroached on their everyday activities. Still, this was the first time he was seeing someone while dealing with this and that made him wary.

After practicing for another couple of hours, Namjoon headed back home before getting ready for the evening. The closer the clock ticked towards 7, the more nervous he seemed to get. He had butterflies in his stomach as he styled his hair for the fifth time. Giving up, he grabbed the small bouquet of sunflowers he had prepared for the evening and headed towards the car waiting to pick him up downstairs.

As much as he had talked to you over the last few days, the pressure of this being a real date made him want to make a good impression. He was disappointed that he couldn’t wow you with a gourmet meal and even though he was confident that you enjoyed his company, the fact that you would basically be forced to stay with him if you wanted to leave tonight made him uneasy.

Fidgeting with the collar of his black t-shirt, he braced himself as he knocked on your door. You took his breath away when you opened the door, dressed in a beautiful red sundress that hugged all your curves perfectly. You smiled widely at him as you greeted him. Your pink dusted cheeks and the way your eyes sparkled as you saw him, made all his earlier worries disappear. His heart sang as you excitedly took the bouquet, sniffing the flowers before busying yourself and looking for a jar to place them in. He was glad he went through the effort of buying them. Well, the effort of bribing one of the staff with lunch for them.

“How did you know these are my favourite flowers?” You sounded shocked.

“I saw them everywhere at the gala, so I figured even if they weren’t your favourites you at least liked them.” He smiled widely, internally celebrating going for those over Jin’s suggestion of the typical roses. He watched as you carefully snapped the stems of the flowers and placed them in the jar a little too small to contain all the flowers. He couldn’t help but think how stunning you looked biting your lip concentrating while arranging the flowers, taking care not to break off any leaves.

Your apartment reflected your personality it seemed. The kitchen was attached to the large living room, separated by a large island that you were working on. The living room had a large comfortable yellow couch with a few fuzzy blankets and white pillows, facing a television on the wall surrounded by framed posters of music festivals, which he gathered from the dates were ones you attended. He also noticed a vintage looking record player next to the opposite wall with a shelf full of books and records, arranged in seemingly no order; the books differing in lengths with random records popped between them. Everything was extremely clean but he could make out some clutter like a pair of keys attached to an Apeach keychain next to the window, and a pair of sunglasses that were precariously hanging off the edge of a small table in the corner. He felt that he was looking inside your brain a little, and it made him extremely grateful that you had deemed him worthy enough to invite him over. He didn’t know if that was something you were comfortable enough doing with everyone you met or dated, or if inviting him to your apartment was an anomaly, and he’d be lying if he didn’t hope it was the latter. The thought that he was getting special treatment made him giddy.

After arranging your flowers, you made your way to Namjoon, and he felt your arms around his waist as you wrapped him a hug.

“Thank you” you whispered into his chest and even this small gesture made him blush.

“I just wanted to cheer you up after that shitty meeting.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He could feel you smile into his chest, something that was confirmed when you separated after a few seconds and made your way to the couch. He missed your warmth already.

“Honestly, just talking to you after it cheered me up.” He sat next to you on the couch as you poured two glasses of white wine, handing him one. “I know we just talked but how was the rest of your day?”

You both shared news about the rest of your days with each other while waiting for dinner to arrive. The conversation was easy and fluid, easily shifting from mundane everyday events to anecdotes about your friends while you ate your pastas and finished the bottle of wine. He appreciated that unlike other people he had dated you didn’t seem surprised that he had friends outside the band and that most of his stories revolved around them rather than BTS. He always felt that so much of his friendship with the guys was broadcasted that he’d be retelling something that people had already watched so to the disappointment of a lot of his dates, he shared more about his other friends. Like how last year he went on a trip to Paris with childhood friends and got kicked out of the Louvre because they accidentally almost knocked down an exhibit. Or when one of his friends got so unbelievably drunk he had to bribe him with actual money to ensure he didn’t sleep in the park. He enjoyed hearing your university tales too, laughing out loud when you recounted the time you had drunkenly won a debate with one of your friends on which Batman was the best, resulting in the said friend to streak around the neighbourhood.

“Wait so you’re telling me if you lost, you would have to streak instead?” His eyes were wide as he looked at you. He had not expected you to have this wild side. He was intrigued, if not slightly turned on by the idea that this side might show up later.

“I would. I never break a promise.” You looked smug as you smiled over your wine glass. “But if I’m being honest, I knew I would win. Who thinks Clooney is the best Batman? He had a bat credit card for crying out loud!” He smiled as you ranted about how Batman would even apply for a credit card and the unlikelihood of him having a social security number without giving away his identity. Sure, Namjoon had never seen this particular Batman movie, or any to be fair, but the way you passionately discussed the superhero was so endearing to him that he couldn’t help nodding along enthusiastically at each point you made, giggling as he did so.

“Okay. I have not seen that movie, but that sounds hilarious.” He commented as he finished the last of the wine in his glass.

“What? It is a cinematic meme masterpiece! We have to watch it!”

_________________________________

That’s how you ended up watching Batman and Robin, a second bottle of wine open on the coffee table. You hadn’t imagined that’s how you’ll be spending the next few hours with Namjoon. In fact, you did not want to impose your nerdy views on him at all, but tipsy you had other ideas. He seemed to be enjoying the movie too, laughing justly at the bat nipples and stupid ice puns. However with each corny flirt Poison Ivy threw at one of the many men on screen, you couldn’t help but notice how closely you were sitting next to a man hotter than any on your television. He had his arm around your shoulders and your head rested slightly on his chest, engulfed in his woodsy scent. You couldn’t help but steal glances at him, resisting the urge to reach up and kiss his jaw where it rested on his hand.

You had wanted to kiss him the moment he walked in the door with flowers in hand. No date had ever brought you flowers before and it set your heart aflutter. If he was any more perfect, you’d be worried you had imagined him and that you’d wake up from a very long, very surreal dream. The next time you glanced up at him you found him looking at you, a soft smile on his face, his dimples looking extra cute as he looked into your eyes.

Feeling uncharacteristically bashful, you smiled back at him, willing yourself not to avert his gaze. “Hi,” you muttered.

“Hi” His deep voice reverberated through your body and before you could tell your heart to stop thudding at your chest, Namjoon closed the space between you. His lips were slightly chapped as he brushed them against yours gently - unrushed and soft. He took his time, his lips dancing around yours as if in a practiced waltz, as he moved his hand to your cheek, thumb stroking your cheekbones. Before you could deepen the kiss, you separated, much to your disappointment and he went back to watching the movie.

“Oh look! It’s the credit card scene.” He said nonchalantly as if he had not just taken your breath away.

“Joon! This movie is stupid,” you whined as you reached for his face, but before you could reach it he grabbed your wrist.

“But it’s a cinematic meme masterpiece!” He teased you with your earlier comment, his eyes lit with mirth.

You pouted in defiance. “You can’t just kiss me like this and expect me to go back to watching the movie.”

“Aww! Cute!” He cooed as you huff, but before you could protest further, he kissed you again. Unlike the first time, this kiss was fierce, sparking a need in you. His lips pressed firmly against yours as his arm moved from around you to maneuver you on top of his lap. He did not hold back as he kissed you with a yearning you felt pulsate through you. He coaxed his way into your mouth as you didn't hesitate for a second, your hands running through the hair at the nape of his neck.

His hands were on your hips and as he pulled you closer you couldn’t help but roll your hips on him, feeling him hardening under you, a moan escaping from your mouth into his. Your dress was almost pulled to your waist and the rough material of his jeans felt delicious against your lace panties. You couldn’t help but roll your hips again, wanting him much closer than he already was.

“Baby you can’t do that to me.” He whined, his voice heavy with desire, as he started placing kisses down your face to your neck.

“Why not?” Your eyes spoke of challenge as you once again grind on him, a light moan escaping your lips, teasingly.

He stops kissing you as he looks up at you sternly, his jaw jutting out slightly. “Because I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”

“Fuck that. Let’s be b-”

Before you can finish your sentence, he is spinning you around to lay you on the couch, hovering above you, your legs on either side of his body. Your head is caged between his arms, your dress barely covering your panties, as he smirks at you before rocking his hip against you, eliciting a loud gasp from you.

“Are you sure?” He asks as he kisses your neck, softly biting in a way that you’re sure there will be marks tomorrow, before soothing it with his tongue.

“Yes” you whisper as you reach down to palm him over his pants, making him groan where he’s kissing behind your ear.

“Fuck… Can I take this off?” His hand is on the zipper of your dress and as soon as you nod, he is pulling it down, increasing his force when it gets caught. Suddenly he stops, his eyes wide with alarm. Leaning up slightly you follow his gaze to his hand where he holds your zipper, no longer attached to the dress. He looks like a kid that broke an expensive vase in a store and you can’t help but laugh.

“Oh shit! I’m sorry!” The more he apologizes, the more you laugh at the situation, tears filling up your eyes. How could he be sexily growling in your ear one moment, making you drench your panties, and be this adorably guilty looking the next? Pushing him off you stand up and coax the rest of the zip down, letting the dress pool at your feet, as you grab his hand, urging him to stand up.

“Let’s go to the bedroom.” You lead him across the hall to your bedroom, and he quickly recovers from his blunder, wrapping himself behind you as he continues to kiss your neck and face.

“I’ll buy you a new dress! Sorry!” He says as you sit down at the end of your bed.

“Joonie, stop apologizing and fuck me.” You pull at his shirt, and thankfully he gets the hint, smoothly taking it off and throwing it beside you with a quick “Yes, ma'am.” You are mesmerized by his body, as you trace your hands up to his toned chest, thanking the god you didn’t believe in for this moment. Smirking at your adoration, he kisses you again, pushing you to lie down with his arm around your waist as he pushes you further up the bed till your head hits the pillows.

He continues kissing you as you run your hands over his chest and back, wanting to consume all of him. “Mmm, you’re so beautiful.” He moans as he kisses down your neck to your chest, rubbing himself on you, his fingers lingering at the waistband of your panties. He looks to you for consent and seeing your enthusiastic nod, he pulls them down, groaning at your arousal that liberally coats them.

“Baby, you’re so wet.” He whispers, amazed as if you had any other choice considering his earlier teasing. He kisses your lips again as his fingers slide against your lips teasingly, making you rut your hips against his hand in an effort to feel him inside.

“Joonie, please. Stop teasing” You whine against his lips, and thankfully he does, pushing one finger inside, making you cry out as you tip your head back against the pillows. Taking advantage of your angled head he presses his lips to your neck, leaving another hickey as one finger becomes two, deliciously stretching you and making you clench against him. Your head is cloudy with endorphins as he curls his fingers expertly thrusting in you, filling the room with your wanton moans. He kisses up to your ear, nibbling a little at your lobe.

“I want to taste you.” His voice is heavy with want and it sends a shiver up your spine. You clench around his fingers in anticipation as he kisses down your body, pulling your bra cups down to pay extra attention to your hardened nipples. His bangs brush against your skin raising goosebumps as he places multiple small pecks on your soft belly before reaching his destination.

“Look here, baby.” He says and as soon as you make eye contact, he pulls out his fingers, placing them in his mouth sucking on them with a groan, making heat rise up your neck. “You’re fucking delicious.”

Your heart is about to explode out of your chest and you can’t help but squirm but he holds your legs apart, slowly kissing each inner thigh as he takes his time. He really has a knack for teasing, and you wouldn’t complain if not for the aching between your legs. You’re desperate for him.

Finally, he lays on his stomach, his long legs dangling off the bed, as he holds your gaze, grinning, before giving you a long lick, making you shudder. He moans into you as he continues his long licks, your fingers making their way to his hair.

He focuses his attention on your clit, sucking and increasing his speed. No one has eaten you out like this. You remember after drinks with your friends claiming that it sucked that you were straight because guys always suck at eating pussy. Oh how wrong you were, you thought as Namjoon added his fingers back into the mix, thrusting as his tongue lapped at your clit, making you see stars. You could feel the familiar heat in your core as you tugged his hair, making him groan, a chant of his name on your lips as you feel yourself becoming undone. Your toes curl into the comforter below you as your legs shake screaming his name. He coaxes you though your orgasm, slowing his thrusts and licking you clean as you come down. When you could feel the overstimulation, you called his name, lightly stroking his hair. You kind of felt bad for pulling on it that tightly earlier.

He wiped his face as he came up towards you, smiling triumphantly. He kissed you and you could taste yourself on his lips.

“You did so well for me, baby.” You had never been praised for orgasming and although you had just cum you felt yourself getting wet all over again. You kissed him again, reaching to undo his jeans and struggling.

“Are you sure? We can stop here if you want.” Namjoon says against your lips.

“Shut up and get naked, Joon” you huff against his lips as he chuckles, flipping on his back next to you to undo his pants and pulling them off along with his boxers. You bite your lip as you see his cock emerge, bouncing against his stomach, his head dripping precum. Your mouth waters as you undo your bra, tossing it to the side, before reaching for his generous length. He hisses as your thumb runs over the tip, and you use the precum to stroke him slowly.

Suddenly, he grabs your wrist, stopping your exploration. “I’m going to cum if you don’t stop.”

You peck his lips as he lets go, turning around and reaching out for the condoms in your bedside drawer. Ripping the packet open, you pinch the tip, smirking as you place it in your mouth, enjoying the way his eyes widen in surprise as you stroke him twice before using your lips to encase his length in latex.

“Holy fuck. You’re perfect.” He grabs your face as soon as you’re done and kisses you fiercely as he once again lays you under him. His length rubs against your clit, sending jolts of pleasures up your spine as you rut your hips upwards. Getting the hint, he grabs his cock and lines it to your entrance. Your insides flutter as you feel him run his tip between your folds collecting your arousal, making you mewl a weak “please”. His face is flushed and his eyes are dark as he guides himself in smoothly, both of you moaning at the pleasure. The stretch is unbelievable, and you close your eyes as the sensation.

He waits a beat for you to accommodate him and as soon as you nod, he pulls back to thrust in again. Slowly he builds up to a rhythm that has you both panting. The room is full of the sounds of your bodies colliding and heavy breaths. You open your eyes to see him with his tongue between his lips and his jaw clenched. The same look of concentration he had when he was writing his songs in your office last night, and you felt yourself clench around him in pleasure. He moaned lowly and it was like you could feel his voice travel through you.

“Oh my god, Joon!” you cried as he changed his angle, hitting your g-spot directly, and increased his speed, thrusting harder.

“I got you, baby. I got you.” He reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers, pressing his forehead against yours, pressing kisses against your cheeks. You could feel yourself getting close again as he continued his pace, and by the way his grip on your hand tightened you could tell he was getting there too. You wrapped your legs around him as he started to get sloppier, getting lost in chasing pleasure.

“Cum for me baby, please.” He pleaded as his fingers reached between you to tease your clit, shooting waves of pleasure through you. He sucked on your neck and the sensation was too much. You feel yourself tighten around him and he groans as the tension building in your stomach snaps, making you cum hard around him, his name on your tongue as your fingers dig into his back.

He fucks you through your orgasm, hard and fast, before cumming himself with a loud groan and collapsing on you. Your bodies panting in unison as you both try to catch your breath. You’re both still holding hands, as he sweetly kisses your cheek, before pulling himself off of you, discarding the condom in the trash can, and laying back next to you. After you both calm down, he speaks staring at the ceiling.

“Do you have cameras in here?”

“What?” You are confused as you turn to look at him.

“Wouldn’t wanna make a sex tape on our second date.” He laughs, turning on his side and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Oh my god. I hate you.” You playfully swat at his chest.

“Nah, you like me.” He grins, kissing the tip of your nose as you roll your eyes. “But it’s okay because I really like you too.”

“You are so cheesy!” you groan, but your face flushes at his words, your heart dancing in your chest. “I’m going to pee.”

“No, stay.” He whines pulling you close to his chest. You oblige him for all of two minutes, before grabbing his shirt from the end of the bed, putting it on, grabbing a fresh pair of panties, and making your way to the ensuite.

When you return you find him still on your bed, albeit in his boxers now, lying amongst your many pillows with his hands behind his head. Hearing your footsteps, he turns to you and smiles, reaching his hand out to pull you in with him. Cuddling you into his chest, he pulls the comforter over the two of you.

“You’re staying?” You hadn’t expected him to stay and you felt your heart warm at the way he did not rush to leave after sex. You knew he wasn’t the kind of person to just be in it for the sex, but it was your second date so you had kept your expectations low.

“Do you not want me to?” He asks with a pout, stiffening, and you could hear how fast his heart was beating.

“Please stay.” You snuggled closer to him, wrapping your arms around him, as you felt him relax and kiss the top of your head. “Want to see something cool?”

He hummed as you asked your google home to show you the sky. It was a dumb impulse purchase you made after a week of late nights of work at home and you hadn’t had the opportunity to show it off yet. You watched his mouth open in awe as the connected device turned off all the lights in your room and projected the milky way on to your ceiling. You chuckled at his child-like reaction. After talking to him this much, you were kind of sure that this would be how he’d act. You were pretty similar and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t had the same reaction when you first saw the constellations on your ceiling. He was quiet for a while, taking in the view and the only way you knew he was awake was by the way his hand softly caressed your hair.

“Hey Y/N. Do you ever think how crazy it is that we met?” His voice was almost a whisper as he turned on his side to look at you. Turning to face him, you placed your hand on his cheek as he continued. “Like you would have to make a company at the perfect time, get your contract with Samsung, decide to move to Korea, convince my boss to sign with you, and then throw that gala, and at the same time I would have to decide to be a rapper, sign to this company, make it big at the right time, come across your non-profit at the right time, and successfully convince Bang PD to let us go to your event. Isn’t that crazy how all those little decisions led to this?”

You were stunned. You had never thought about it that way. How everyone you met was by such a coincidence, how you met Joon was such a coincidence. The way he phrased it made it seem like fate. Maybe it was.

“You forgot about the part where I almost didn’t let you come to the gala.” You joked. You knew he was being serious, but your internal defense mechanisms were in full gear. You didn’t know why you were making light of his beautiful statement, but you felt if you didn’t, you’d fall for him even further and you weren't ready for that.

“What do you mean?” He chuckled, his hand rubbing circles into your waist.

“Your team asked me four hours before the gala that you were coming.” He snorted at your response. “You’re lucky Jiyoung is a fan.”

“Well, then I’ll send a thank you card to her.” He gazed at you adoringly as he pulled you closer. “You know I wasn’t joking earlier… I really like you.”

“I really like you too, Joon.” you whispered as he captured your lips into a kiss. You both continued discussing the coincidences that had to align for you to meet, stealing kisses as you drift off to sleep.

Wrapped up in his arms, with the twinkling stars on your ceiling, it was the best sleep you had had in a long while.

____________________

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#bts fic #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts rm scenario #bts scenarios #bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon smut #bts rm #bts namjoon #rm x reader #rm smut

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veilofher · 4 years ago

Text

Why Lan WangJi being a sect leader or Chief Cultivator doesn't make sense.

Okay, so here I have to mention beforehand that I have not, and will not in the near future, watch the Untamed show, and that has nothing to do with the actors, and everything to do with the direction they took they show in and how they deviated from the main novel. Which I love. The novel that is, not the deviation.

Okay so with that, let us begin.

I don't think I need to introduce my idea, since it is up there, in bold big letters, but here it is once again-

Lan WangJi should never inherit or have to become a sect leader or a Chief Cultivator.

And I have good reason for that, hear me out.

Let us just look at the generation of sect leaders post Sun-shot campaign. Three of the four are literally young/new adults and one is a bastard that got offed by his bastard. And then one of them dies. Because betrayal. But that's not the point of this post. Allow me to get back on point.

In the present Timeline there are three great Sects, since Nie HuaiSang kind of made the Nie sect fall from the pedestal of great Sects. And of the three great Sects, let's just take a look at their leaders:

Lan XiChen: the most benevolent, kind person to ever exist, who also happens to be a badass who is a war hero. And he smiles. Almost all the time.

Jin GuangYao: incredibly smart, but also has a very soothing smile and kind to people who've been kind to him (unless like you're his sibling, in which case you're fucked, literally, and then offed, literally), and generally gives off nice person vibes.

Jiang WanYin: asshole, and completely follows the principle of ruling with fear.

And, I won't lie. That is kind of how you rule- either by love or by fear, and this looks like a tried and tested method.

So let us consider the curious case if one Lan WangJi now who happens to be so intimidating, that people just kind of shut up because of his very presence, but who is also so revered that put his word against a sect leaders, and he'd be believed. Who prefers to help everyone who needs help regardless of the fame it may or may not being him.

All of which actually are very good traits to have if you want to rule, if not for the next few character traits of his:

Extremely hot headed. Rivals Wei WuXian in that regard. Has zero chill when he's trapped with an injured, half naked love of his life, and would rather kill a practically unkillable monster than wait for another week to be rescued. Also has zero chill when said love of his life just committed a mass murder, of ridiculous proportions, and would rather run away with them and hide them in a Cave, than idk. What else can you do? Anyways my point is he's incredibly hot headed that doesn't show through because dead expression and everything.

Zero communication skills. Seriously it's ridiculous how bad he is at this. You can blame Wei WuXian all you want, but Lan WangJi is literally like "I want you to lick me, but imma run if you lick me. I want you to kiss me, but imma knock myself out if you actually kiss me." Like my man, I love you, but stop with the fucking mixed signals!

Stood with Wei WuXian when he came back. Quite publicly at that. Which happens to be the main problem.

See here's the thing, the world MDZS is based in is a society where your identity completely hinges on what the world thinks of you.

And in Lan WangJi's case, by standing with Wei WuXian, the most evil person to ever live (society definitions), he's standing with evil. It's immaterial that Wei WuXian saved their lives during the second siege, and that a lot of the present conflicts are not his doings, but fact remains that Lan WangJi stands with that. Supports that. And fights against anyone trying to bring down that evil.

From a common man/cultivator's point of view, he's ruined.

So even if he does ever take the mantel of the Chief Cultivator or the sect leader of the Lan sect, people might just never trust him again completely. Because he not only stood with said evil incarnate, he also went and married it.

So.

Things like these, such big misconceptions would never go away without an incredible amount of open conversations on both sides. But is that even viable?

On the side of the other sect leaders and general public? Maybe. He's their revered HanGuang Jun. They'd give him the chance. But in his side? Do you think he'll ever give a reason or excuse for his actions? No. He's never done that before. Not even for his brother and sect. Why would he do this for a bunch of people he actively dislikes?

And you might say that Lan WangJi could change his behaviour, become more open to conversation and stuff like that, but here's the thing, Lan WangJi has never fit the mould. He actually fit it even less than Wei WuXian ever did.

He was the second son of the sect leader of one of the biggest Sects, but is very simple, no ego, doesn't talk to or interact with anybody unless someone literally pushes themselves into his bubble, would disappear for days on a night hunt that would bring him no glory that he could brag of, doesn't brag of the glories that he could brag of, intimidates his peers and in general is a loner of epic proportions.

And almost all of that is owed to two facts of his life:

Lan XiChen is the heir to the sect.

Let me explain.

Lan XiChen being the heir, and not only the heir, but also arguably the only cultivator that could beat Lan WangJi, makes it certain that he would inherit the sect. Which means he was groomed differently, giving Lan WangJi the freedom to be his weird, silent, quirky self, because he never had to think of political repercussions of his actions. For which he also has to thank Lan XiChen, because Lan XiChen wasn't letting anyone bully his little beloved brother into moulding into a social creature. And no one wants to piss off the next sect leader. No matter how kind he seems.

And there in lies the problem. Like Wei WuXian, he is programmed to think very little of political repercussions of his actions, and has the freedom to do as he pleases for almost 35 years of his life. Suddenly putting all the constraints on him that are placed on a sect leader is literally a recipe for disaster.

And I'm not saying he'd be a bad leader, but I am saying that he wouldn't be a great one.

And giving him a mantel is a bad idea. Just saying. Which is another reason why the story of the show disappoints me. They don't think of these nuances that are built into the novel and just go on with whatever looks cool. I guess having your protagonist becoming the ruler looks cool. What does it matter if it makes sense thematically.

#lan zhan #lan wangji #wei ying #wei wuxian #wangxian #mdzs meta #mdzs #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #mo dao zu shi

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otonymous · 5 years ago

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Lucien and The Lure of Forbidden Fruit (MLQC Character Analysis)

Hello dear readers!

I’m sure that everyone knows by now that Lucien is my favourite MLQC boy (even after the events of chapter 13), and I’d like to take this opportunity to explain why. Needless to say, this analysis will be lengthy and include lots of spoilers (for certain Lucien-related dates and the main story, up to and including chapter 14), so the rest will be posted after the break!

Please keep in mind that I know next to nothing about what’s happened in the story beyond the new chapters released in the English server, so apologies if my theories prove incorrect to those who know better 😆

In response to the lovely Anon, on a superficial level, Lucien is exactly my type: tall, dark and handsome, and a genius to boot. I love my men intelligent with a side of suave, someone who isn’t afraid of wearing his feelings on his sleeve — and this sexy professor delivers. But I swear my reasons for loving Lucien extend beyond this paragraph 😂 Please do me the favour of reading on!

@blueanimewriting, I see Lucien’s character as being quite complex, and labels such as “yandere” alone are not enough to encapsulate him as a whole. Let us consider what we know of Lucien (in the English server) so far.

Lucien, aka Ares, is a high-ranking agent of the Black Swan Collective (BSC) — a super shady secret society with equally shady ambitions for the world, whose plans seem to hinge on MC’s cooperation. In Chapter 13, it is revealed that Lucien’s kindness and attentiveness to the MC was all part of his plan to lure her into a trap on behalf of the BSC. On the surface, everything about this screams betrayal. But is it really? More on this later.

Going back to @blueanimewriting’s question, a yandere is typically seen as a character with a sweet exterior who is capable of engaging in extremely violent and deranged behaviour when it comes to anything/anyone who challenges their relationship with the love interest. In my understanding of this archetype, the aggressive behaviour typically doesn’t reveal itself until love has been established, in that either the yandere realizes they are in love or are already in a relationship.

As we’ve seen in Chapter 13, Lucien is already highly respected and feared within the BSC, where he is known especially for his ruthlessness. The man won’t hesitate to dispatch Black Swan minions with little more than a flick of his hand, teleporting them to god knows where (we just know that the thought alone is enough to make them shake — remember Josie after her little illusory arson trick in Chap 13-1?). The man even smiled when his eye got split open as punishment for dragging his feet on his mission and not capturing MC. There is little doubt that Lucien is no stranger to violence, whether he’s the source of it, or at its mercy - a fact that most definitely precedes his relationship with MC.

The professor’s villainous behaviour does not come as a result of him falling in love, as is typical with a yandere. He is a man tasked with a goal, and his actions must be interpreted through that lens. Did he stalk MC by moving in right next door? Absolutely. Was it out of love? Probably not from the outset; he likely needed to monitor her as part of his mission. Did Lucien ever direct violent behaviour towards other potential suitors for MC’s affections? I don’t recall him ever behaving aggressively towards Victor, Gavin, or Kiro. Lucien’s deception and manipulation seems to stem solely from his mission, not from love.

Is Lucien innately evil, simply “born to be bad” so to speak? It’s hard to be certain at this point with the information we have. What we DO know is that the boy grew up without both parents at a young age, and may have been deprived of the opportunity to learn about proper human interaction — love, in particular. Hence, Lucien learns about affection by watching old Hollywood films in the cinema until the early morning hours, and reads books on how to be a good boyfriend. He asks MC to teach him how to love in his New Light Date. Perhaps it was just a bit of shameless flirting. Or perhaps, he was being completely sincere.

Of the sincerity of his affection for MC, however, there can be no doubt. Scattered throughout various dates and the story itself, we find instances of Lucien fighting his growing feelings for her. In his Aquarium Date, he admits that he has become too involved with the girl, despite knowing he should have kept his distance. In his Midnight Date, we witness Lucien ordering himself not to think of MC whilst clutching his chest in pain, the moment clearly illustrating that love had “taken root in his heart.” We also catch a glimpse of the professor’s true feelings in his aptly named True Love Date, in which Lucien tries his hardest to avoid MC (likely to prevent himself from falling even more in love with her), and fails spectacularly, displaying some extremely jealous behaviour when he mistakenly thinks she has feelings for someone else.

And while I could be wrong (depending on Ares’ ultimate agenda), the strongest evidence of Lucien’s love for MC would be the fact that he dragged his feet for so long on his mission, and still let her go in the end. If he was a total villain through and through, would it have been likely that MC would’ve escaped simply by saying that Lucien owed her a thank-you gift? I think not. Her ass would’ve been teleported back to BSC headquarters so fast.

So, we get to the crux of the matter, the reason why MC’s romance with Lucien/Ares will prove to be one of, if not the most, heart-wrenching ones in the game. Their relationship is star-crossed: Romeo and Juliet, Evolver-style. Lucien knows full well he was not to fall in love with her but couldn’t help himself and did it anyway. MC obviously had feelings for Lucien, and even in the face of his betrayal, still initially refused to accept it (“...you are not Lucien. He would never harm me. Ares and Lucien have nothing to do with each other!”).

The very image of the blood-red Lycoris blooming in MC’s dream at the beginning of Chapter 9 can be interpreted as referencing this ill-fated romance: when the flower blooms, the leaves have already fallen, and when the leaves grow, the flower has already wilted — the two can never be together. In the same vein, Lucien and MC are desperately in love with each other, but are standing on very different sides of a war that is gradually brewing. This is the stuff of angst-filled romantic dreams, for everyone knows forbidden fruit is the sweetest. It is also one of my favourite romantic tropes.

Yes, Lucien manipulated MC’s feelings in order to advance his own goals. But the professor never anticipated that he would fall victim to his own feelings for her. And that was the moment when his world was no longer black and white, cut and dried. He let his emotions get in the way of his mission, and was sorely punished for it. But perhaps his greatest punishment came when he had to watch his own confession of betrayal crush MC’s heart (let us not forget that look of sorrow that flashed in his eyes during Chapter 13’s showdown).

Yes, Lucien hurt us. But in doing so, he also hurt himself.

If you’re still reading at this point, 1) thank you for sticking around as I prance atop my soapbox, and 2) if you’re still not convinced, consider this: would Elex really make you fall in love with a main character only to make you hate him to pieces? Who in their right minds would blow tons of cold, hard cash on those gorgeous Lucien karmas, such as…

…if he didn’t have a way of ultimately redeeming himself in the end, however far away that is? I am a firm believer that Lucien/Ares will have a redemption arc, and that it will be absolutely fantastic when it happens. 💕

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Thanks for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚

#q&a #anonymous #ihavenotfallenyet #blueanimewriting #mlqc lucien #my writing #mlqc character analysis #lucien character analysis #mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer

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weecherylita · 4 years ago

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Continuing my analysis of Redcloak; this piece is focused on in-character signs that he could actually get some positive character growth (maybe even a redemptive arc? Who knows).

THIS POST INCLUDES MAJOR SPOILERS FOR START OF DARKNESS…

In my previous post, I pointed out that the heart of Redcloak’s character is a battle between his two primary motivations; the first (and the one he likes to tell himself is his main motivation) is trying to improve the lives of the goblin people. The second (and his actual main motivation) is his desire to hide from his own guilt for leading them on a dangerous path which has brought them a great deal of death and suffering. He has sacrificed so much for the sake of the Dark One’s Plan, he thinks the only option is to keep going – otherwise all of those deaths will have been for nothing, and the toll on his conscience will be extreme. Xykon, being a vital component of said Plan, is someone who Redcloak has used as a shield to hide behind – his servitude towards Xykon offers him “an excuse for [his] inexcusable behaviour” as Xykon puts it, and allows him to kid himself that he has no real choice.

So, what are the signs that he might be able to break out of this and change for the better? (Note I’m not arguing he definitely will change, just that it wouldn’t actually be totally out of the blue if he did.)

The hobgoblins and Gobbotopia

In his dealings with hobgoblins in particular, we have seen the part of him that genuinely cares for his people really start to come more strongly to the fore. Firstly in his major about-turn during the Battle of Azure City, where he came to realise the error of his previous racist attitude towards hobgoblins, and this produced a significant change in his behaviour. So here at least we have precedent for Redcloak examining past actions, owning up to his mistakes, and growing for the better (albeit, on a much smaller scale than what would be required to rethink his devotion to the Plan).

As this plot line develops we continue to see further evidence of Redcloak growing in his sense of responsibility and genuine concern for the lives of other goblins, and this includes two prominent examples where he does prioritise their well-being above the Dark One’s Plan.

Firstly, we have the personal battle between Redcloak and the High Priest of the Twelve Gods – a duel he could have avoided, but specifically enters into because “dueling will save the lives of any hobgoblins your spells would have killed.” And this is a risk not just to his own life, but potentially to the Plan as well, since there was a chance of the Crimson Mantle being destroyed/confiscated by Azurites in the event of Redcloak losing that duel (the best case scenario would’ve been for the cloak to get picked up by another, almost certainly less powerful goblin cleric).

Secondly, he clearly puts off continuing the Dark One’s mission in order to concentrate on the development of the emerging goblin city state, Gobbotopia. This shows a genuine desire to pursue an alternative and less risky method of securing the well-being of his people, to the point that it distracts him from the Plan. It doesn’t last, of course. A combination of Xykon’s rage and a semi-direct message from the Dark One himself serve to refocus his attention on the Plan once more. This brings about a regression of sorts, in that we once again see him prepared to tactically sacrifice the lives of other goblins for the sake of its success. For now, it appears that he believes that by delegating to Jirix, he can pursue both the Plan and the development of Gobbotopia concurrently. He is surely aware that pursuing the Plan could threaten Gobbotopia itself, but perhaps unwilling to dwell too much on the ramifications of that. Nevertheless, Gobbotopia still exists as a tangible achievement in Redcloak’s eyes, and may well come into play again in forcing a confrontation between his two primary motivations – Gobbotopia or the Plan; the well-being of living goblins, or his desire to hide from his own guilt.

Right-Eye and Xykon

Redcloak’s efforts to hide from his guilt are becoming more strained. We get the most explicit glimpse of this when we see him talking to - himself? - in the mirror, saying: “It’ll all be worth it. You’ll see.” Except of course, he’s not just talking to himself, but also Right-Eye (Redcloak having lost his own right eye, it would seem as though he was staring at a right-eyed goblin when facing himself in the mirror).

In fact, this brings me back to that interesting statement from Xykon at the end of Start of Darkness: “as long as you’re loyal to me, I’ll let you pretend that this [Redcloak murdering Right-Eye] never happened.” Thing is though, Xykon’s gone back on his word. By forbidding Redcloak to regenerate his lost eye, and encouraging Tsukiko to call him “Wrong-Eye”, Redcloak has been getting regular reminders about his brother – and what he did to him. It’s no wonder that Redcloak has started to seem a little unsettled. And the memory of Right-Eye doesn’t just represent Redcloak’s guilt either – it’s also about choice. As Xykon pointed out, Right-Eye is proof that actually, Redcloak does have a choice – a choice about whether to rebel against Xykon, or the Dark One, or to just admit that he’s done wrong by his people and there are alternatives to following this crazily dangerous plan. Xykon characterises Redcloak as “too chicken-shit” to ever make that choice, but I do wonder. For a start, Xykon’s verbal beat-down to Redcloak at the end of Start of Darkness (when Redcloak was at his very lowest) was so utterly vicious I almost felt like it’s inevitable that one day, Redcloak will pick himself back up and prove him wrong. (Law of drama I guess? Elan would approve.)

Which leads onto another point – another way we’ve seen Redcloak develop over the course of the comic is to see him becoming more confident and more dissatisfied with Xykon. If we compare the first time Redcloak submitted to calling Xykon “Lord Xykon”, way back at the end of Start of Darkness, with the last time we heard him say it, recently in the western desert, we can see that his attitude has significantly changed. The first time is almost heart-breaking; his will is completely broken at that point. That final time, where he is practically dripping with disdain and barely contained rage, honestly gives me chills.

There is no evidence as of yet of this progression leading to any positive growth; thus far, his newfound confidence has led Redcloak to boast that he secretly has Xykon dancing to his tune, which is a dubious assertion that still hinges on his desire to fool Xykon into carrying out the Plan. Nevertheless, I think it’s interesting the way Xykon originally characterised servitude to him as a way for Redcloak to avoid his own sense of personal responsibility for his actions (”You’ll obey me forever now, because I give you an excuse for your inexcusable behaviour”). In Redcloak’s mind, preserving the relationship with Xykon is still a necessary evil for the sake of the Plan, and the Plan is beyond question (and thus he avoids the need to face up to his own wrong-doing in pursuing that goal). The more strained his relationship with Xykon becomes, the higher the chance of the whole thing unraveling. A few small cracks are starting to appear, but whether they will lead to any positive development or not remains to be seen...

Violence and non-goblins

And the final point relates to Redcloak’s attitude and violent behaviour towards non-goblin species. The Redcloak of the most recent strips is just as prepared to kill for the sake of the Plan as ever, and he does so brutally and with grim efficiency. Nevertheless, I think it’s interesting that he used to enjoy killing creatures he hated - humans and paladins in particular - yet he no longer appears to do so (or not as much, at least). He tells Jirix that murdering a paladin was “less satisfying than I remember”. He also doesn’t appear to take much pleasure in Tsukiko’s death (in contrast to his apparent glee when he set the chlorine elemental on her when they first met). And, most recently of all, he appears notably dissatisfied about killing the monsters of Kraagor’s tomb, asking “What did their deaths mean?”. Which seems an unusual question for a goblin who is long used to justifying every horrible deed he commits as being a necessary sacrifice for the greater well-being of his people. Now it could well be that Redcloak’s evolution into hardened killer who destroys out of grim necessity rather than enjoyment isn’t going to lead to any positive changes. Still, that most recent example in particular indicates a degree of weariness with needless bloodshed that might be relevant later. And we also have the very interesting example of Redcloak choosing to spare the prisoners of Azure City - people who he promised to destroy, yet eventually chose not to. I don’t believe this was out of a sense of compassion, but rather from the fact that when it came down to it, he just didn’t have the stomach for senseless destruction. And with the fate of the whole world at stake, that may yet prove significant.

Of course, none of this is proof that Redcloak will eventually reject the Plan, let alone switch to placing his trust in the Order/the gods in general. Nevertheless, the above points make me believe it is possible that Redcloak could start to go through that path of personal growth – particularly if something dramatic happens that forces him to acknowledge that the Plan isn’t viable. As firmly deluded as he seems right now, a few small cracks have started to appear.

#order of the stick #oots #redcloak #fandom stuff #long post is long #i can't believe i wrote this much about a fictional goblin #actually wait yes i can

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kuro-gossips · 6 years ago

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Affections

For @silverynight - Merry Christmas, sweetie! <3 I hope I did them justice, it’s my first time writing anything for Fantastic Beasts.

Five times when Gellert, Theseus, Albus, and Percival show just how besotted they are with the British magizoologist, no matter who the audience is, and once where Newt demonstrates his love for them.

1. Theseus

Newt comes to visit him at his office in the Ministry of Magic on the rare occasion he is in the area. It's been weeks too long since Newt has even set foot in England and Theseus has missed him dearly. Some of the Aurors under his jurisdiction are milling around, filing papers, finishing reports, and discussing active cases.

The opening door disrupts the calm din of the working area and in stumbles none other than his younger brother. Instantly, Theseus is up on his feet, strides over with a sense of urgency, and is hurriedly peppering kisses all over Newt’s charming youthful face, at which he giggles at the ticklish feeling. The other employees of the Ministry attempt to not stare at their boss showering affection on the shorter male. One of the new female Aurors squeaks when the elder Scamander lands a solid one right on Newt’s lips, but is immediately hushed by the others, who remind her that this kind of relationship is common amongst purebloods.

Theseus has no shame and drapes himself all over his curly-haired boyfriend, a content smile sweeping lazily across his features. “I’ve missed you so, so much, Artemis.”

Newt flushes underneath the other’s intense ogling and ducks his gaze out of pure habit. Regardless, his face shows nothing but happiness, his freckles seemingly dancing across his cheeks as his lips curl upwards.

2. Albus

Albus is mid-sentence, teaching a class when a knock on the wooden door reverberates throughout the room. He pauses his lecture, scratching his bearded chin, silently questioning who would interrupt him during class time as he walks over to greet whomever is standing outside. All the students, dressed in the Hogwarts’ robes with their respective house badges emblazoned on their left side, turn to peer at what their professor is doing, necks craning in an effort to see.

“Hullo, Professor Dumbledore.” The male’s tenor voice is soft, but it carries through the space. “I know I’m probably, um, interrupting your lecture, aren’t I? Terribly sorry for that…”

Beyond Dumbledore’s tall and muscular form, the teenagers aren’t able to see much of the mysterious man, but some of them catch glimpses of a mop of curly, reddish hair, a peacock blue peacoat, and a raggedy tan suitcase.

“Ah, Newt!” The sharper students swear their teacher’s eyes shine brighter (had they actually had line of sight of his face) at the other man’s presence. They can taste the sweetness and fondness imbued in the utterance of the younger’s name. He waves off the redhead's concerns and continues, “No trouble whatsoever, Newt. I always have time for you, love.”

That's when the whispering starts when they hear the term of endearment:

Professor Dumbledore has a significant other?

What kind of name is ‘Newt?’

… I would've thought he preferred the fairer sex…

“Oh, well, I could always come back in a bit, you know, once you're done.” Newt stammers out, flushing as if he knows the entire fourth year of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws are staring at him, and maybe he can tell.

“No, no, no, come in, take a seat, the class is almost finished anyway.”

“Well, if you- if you don’t mind then.”

A tall, lanky male with a boyishly charming face is ushered through the entrance and onto a Conjured plush armchair in the back. The adolescents rush to return to normal behaviour and positions, trying to not be obvious that they were eavesdropping on their professor’s conversation, but when Dumbledore’s eyes twinkle furiously, they know they’ve been caught red-handed. Some of their ears are glowing like Muggle Christmas lights at the tips.

The class continues as if nothing has happened, but the wizard lecturing seems to be standing straighter and speaking in a more grandiose manner, like he wants to impress someone. To his credit, there are no further interruptions from the younger blue-eyed man sitting behind the rows of students, a pleasant, albeit lazy, smile gracing his features, but the children themselves cannot stop gossiping. Dumbledore doesn't have it in his heart to dissuade their curiosity, especially in front of his beloved, who holds such a trait above most people. There is the faint buzzing of secrets being traded between individuals and most can't help but glance back to the curly-haired man.

The bell chimes, echoing throughout the school, indicating that it is time to change classes. Newt rises from his seat and approaches the front of the room, stopping in front of the teacher's desk. A couple of students linger as long as possible, but they can feel weak compelling magic being cast, forcing them to leave. Before the doors shut completely, a small group see Albus pulling on the lapels of the vibrant blue coat and sliding his lips over the full ones of the other man, who reciprocates wholeheartedly.

“It really has been too long, since you've visited, Newt.” Even beyond the wooden slabs as barriers, light laughter can be heard down the hallways.

3. Gellert

Gellert has just finished occupying their new hideout in Paris, after excusing the Muggle family from their property (alive and well, thankfully, if Newt were around to say anything). He writes a concise and anonymous note with directions to here, sending it out with a nondescript owl to the magizoologist. His closest associates stare inquisitively at his actions, but don't dare ask. He is not known for using such mundane channels of communication.

Only a couple of hours have passed and to Grindelwald's surprise, there is a familiar pattern of knocking at the house's doors. It's a code that is exclusively shared between Newt and himself. The sound is hushed, just barely enough for the Dark Lord to hear, but the house is utterly silent, so it travels to the ears of his subordinates as well. Vinda appears near the front entrance; however, before she is able to check who is there, her Lord has already invited the person in. To her surprise, it's none other than Newt Scamander because she recognizes the man's face as the one that had been plastered all over the newspapers across North America and Europe.

“My Lord?” Her eyes are wide in disbelief. Grindelwald casually dismisses her with a glance, but she is rooted in her spot. He may have just rolled his eyes.

“Vinda, meet Newt, my beau if you must know.” His mismatched eyes narrow at her, challenging her to voice any undue thoughts she was harbouring. The magizoologist can't help but redden at his words; he can't get used to whenever any of his boyfriends publicly claim him as theirs. Without further ado, he leans down, tenderly cupping the other's heavily freckled cheek, and passionately kisses him. Newt doesn't fight, doesn't try to bite off the platinum blonde's wicked tongue, but instead kisses back.

The French woman cannot excuse herself fast enough.

4. Percival

Percival is in the middle of working a particularly tough case, dealing with some vile witch who enjoys torturing rich, obnoxious No-Maj men and then stringing their bodies up in public places. He can feel a migraine coming on as he analyzes the details presented in the papers strewed across his desk. A memo paper scurries across the oak surface in the form of an origami mouse and he plucks it up to read. The handwriting belongs to MACUSA’s President, Seraphina Picquery, who has requested a meeting for updates on the current investigation with whomever is assigned to it. The team consists of Percival himself, the older Goldstein sister, and another Senior Auror, Fontaine. So as he makes his way to Madam Picquery’s office, Graves takes a short detour to the area where the rest of his department is located to grab the other two.

The Director barges through doors, shocking the workers bustling and chatting around the department space. To his own surprise, he sees a very familiar visage attached to a lean body situated on the couch next to Tina’s desk. Percival needs a moment to compose himself and school his face back to neutral; he doesn’t remember Newt mentioning in any of their correspondences that he would be visiting New York any time soon.

“Mr. Scamander, I didn’t know you were in town.” Graves drawls, a dark eyebrow hinging upwards. The magizoologist shoots up from his seat, clearly not expecting the appearance of his dark-haired lover.

“Oh, um, Mr. G-Graves!” Newt exclaims in a higher pitched voice than his regular tone. It’s obvious the other man is nervous for a reason he cannot fathom. He dismisses the thought because he is required at Picquery’s immediately.

“Goldstein, Fontaine, come. We’ve been summoned.”

“Oh, Mr. Graves, sir, Newt was just here to-” Tina begins, but Percival cuts her off with a glare. The brunette flounders a bit before hurrying to gather her notes about the case and follow after him. “Sorry, Newt, do you mind just waiting here for a bit? I’m sure the meeting won’t take too long.”

They only have Picquery’s attention for a few scant minutes because she is an extremely busy woman, but it’s a series of high profile incidents and she needs to make a strong public presence known. Just as the President is excusing them, she begins speaking again, “Oh, and Percival. I forgot to mention that MACUSA has just extended an offer to Newt Scamander for a consulting position here.”

Percival almost whips around to stare at her declaration, instead he turns around slowly because he is known for nothing if not his complete self-control, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Mr. Scamander will be joining you and your team on all cases involving magical beasts in any form. I expect you to make him feel welcomed, am I understood? We require not only his expertise on this subject matter, but it will also alleviate some of the political tension between England and America, following last year’s fiasco with Grindelwald.” Picquery’s tone is stern and leaves no room for arguments, not that Percival really has any complaints about seeing the British man more.

“Understood, Madam Picquery.” He gives her a brief nod and leaves with his subordinates.

When he arrives at Tina and Fontaine’s office space, he marched straight for the curly-haired male, who is awkwardly waiting around, fidgeting with his case. Percival quickly gathers the other in a powerful hug, as everyone in the immediate area resembles a fish out of water with gaping mouths and eyes.

He asks as he pulls back from the embrace, “You little bugger, you. Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be working here?”

Tina watches as those dark brown eyes soften and how the weight seemingly lifts off of his shoulders. She has never seen her boss behave this way, but at the same time, if it were anyone to influence it, it would be Newt.

“Er, well, surprise?” Green eyes glint with amusement and his mouth tilts upward in a half smirk.

To further the occupants of the room’s bewilderment, their previously thought unflappable superior swoops in to press his lips against their charming magizoologist’s.

Suddenly, everything makes sense to the elder Goldstein sister and a small smile creeps up onto her face.

5. In Private

It’s one of the rare times that the five of them can actually convene and they intend to make the most of their time together. A quiet weekend away in the isolated region of Grindelwald’s Nurmengard headquarters is exactly what they all needed after such stressful months of work. Gellert, Percival, Theseus, and Albus all arrive earlier than Newt and the latter can barely get his entire body through the front door, before he is being shoved up against the nearest wall and pampered with affection. His suitcase clatters against the ground as Newt's grip slackens.

Grindelwald, who hasn’t seen the youngest in the longest time of the four, immediately occupies his lips, tongue sweeping against Newt’s bottom lip, seeking permission. He is granted access without an ounce of hesitation, a happy moan emitting from their redheaded lover. Theseus is hovering nearby, raking his hand through those wild curls and presses gentle kisses to wherever he can get to. Albus and Percival stand off to the side, but still in close proximity, patiently waiting their turn. As soon as Grindelwald’s stockier build moves out of the way, the Hogwarts professor is carting him off to their bedroom in strong arms. Newt squeaks and lightly protests, but he knows he can’t win in this situation -- he doesn’t want to either, really.

They take turns stripping him of a piece of clothing at a time, slowly, graciously. It’s far from his first time spent with them, but Newt still shys away from their prying eyes and wandering hands. He is self-conscious of the numerous scars and deformities littering his freckled skin. His boyfriends take it in stride, used to this habit, and stretch his limbs out for more of his creamy skin. There are lips and delicate touches from many, many fingers along the ridges of raised skin, the sensation is ticklish and giggles escape his full lips, uncontrollably.

“Newt, you are so beautiful.” Albus mutters, pushing back from his position where he is kissing the other’s shoulder, and gazes lovingly into those expressive green eyes.

Percival follows up with, “We know you are insecure about your body, but rest assured, it makes you even more appealing to us.”

Newt couldn’t be happier as he pulls each of his lover’s down for a peck.

“I love you all.”

“And us, you, liebling.” Grindelwald fondly coos.

+1 Newt

Newt is not good with publicly showing affection, or even in private, if he is being wholly honest with himself. Even if he loves these four goofballs with all his heart, he has trouble expressing himself freely, but they adore him for his quirkiness and accept it with open arms. They’ve done so much for him and he doesn’t know how to begin to repay their kindness.

The five of them have never explicitly discussed family plans, but he remembers them mentioning adopting children in passing. Newt is curious and seeks something more special than a simple adoption -- he wants their first child to be a meaningful step in their relationship. So he conducts plenty of research and finally, he stumbles upon something in the recesses of Grindelwald’s expansive library.

He waits until Christmas, mere weeks away, when they are exchanging presents and gifts them each with an envelope containing a small piece of parchment. They look on in confusion at it, not able to make sense of anything written on it, but he breaks out in an affectionate grin, wide and unyielding.

“It’s a list of ingredients.” All of their gazes turn towards him and he holds their attention completely, eager to hear what he has to say, “It’s ingredients to a potion that will allow me to bear a child.”

The sight before him is comical, to say the least, and Newt lets his laughter rip out of him at these men who are usually perfectly composed.

“What I’m saying is, I want us to have a child or children of our own. The best part of this potion is that it allows us to combine all of our magical signatures to conceive a child. This way, he or she will truly be all of ours-” Before he can finish explaining, he finds himself at the bottom of a dog pile of heavy men. Gellert and Percival are staring at his belly longingly, imagining it swollen with a baby. Theseus can’t stop praising his genius and showering love over his face. Albus has a devious look on his face that says he wants to start trying conceiving as soon as possible and Newt is all too willing.

#newt's reverse harem #fantastic beasts #newt scamander #theseus scamander #albus dumbledore #percival graves #gellert grindelwald #gift for silverynight #grindelnewt #scamandore #gramander #scamandercest #silverynight #fanfiction #fluff

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purgatoryandme · 6 years ago

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how can u love tony stark but hate bakugou like lol theyre both dicks bc they were abused

I don’t hate Bakugou, but I do hate his plot armour in an otherwise relatively well-balanced story. That said, here are some key differences…Tony Stark: makes it his life mission to fix his previous mistakes, sacrificing his life personal relationships and desire for an end to preserve the wellbeing of others Tony Stark: is repeatedly punished for said mistakes, even years down the line, to the point that he considers it a defining characteristic of his life, and acknowledges his failures in deeply personal and painful ways Tony Stark: deeply internalizes the desire to be nothing like his abuser to the point that it shows in his EVERY INTERACTION WITH CHILDREN, struggles with guilt over how he feels about said abuser due to their death, is shown to struggle with that abuse in general, and actually shows some development in respect to that history of abuseTony Stark: is repeatedly called out for being an asshole, EXTREMELY PUBLICLY by his victims nonetheless, and tries to make up for it in a variety of socially awkward ways despite knowing that he will likely never be forgivenTony Stark: has apologized to many of victims despite their attempts to directly harm him or people he loves Bakugou: becomes a nicer person…but not really for the right reasons (re: wants to be a hero instead of like…wanting to make up for what he has done. Continues to fail to understand what really makes a hero, though it could be argued that he’s getting there)Bakugou: still rude to the person he abused most thoroughly Bakugou: suffers very few personal consequences, all of which are non-permanent losses, none of which are losses that isolate him, and continues to be considered the top of his class in all ways that matterBakugou: forgiven by his victims/not exposed by them for no real established reason other than his victims being nice peopleBakugou: not really shown to be an abuse victim by the narrative. The justification given in-text is that he grew a massive ego due to the failure of anyone around him to keep him in check and, when challenged by the existence of someone like Midoriya, he became deeply insecureTony’s story and Bakugou’s are really REALLY different. I guess you could argue that they are taking place at different periods in their lives, seeing as Bakugou is still a teenager and Tony is an adult, but the plot of BNHA has presented plenty of opportunities for Bakugou to see the light or to expose him as having been ‘abused’ so I’m gonna give that a big ol’ shrug emoji. Tony’s redemption was him opening his eyes to the world around him and throwing himself down on the wire, expecting nothing in return, in order to make up for his sin of ignorance. Though Tony’s wrongdoings have been far-reaching, very few of them are truly personal and the factors that drove him to them were extreme and persistent. This allows the narrative to develop the idea that he was always a good person on the inside and that his trauma lead to him acting in a way that contradicted that + allows him to make up for his mistakes in the broad sweeping sense of giving his life to a heroic cause. Bakugou’s redemption has been him becoming what he was always meant to be in the context of the narrative: a hero. There was never really any doubt he’d turn out the way he did and it’s treated more as a reward than a punishment for past wrongdoing (whereas Tony’s heroic journey has been defined by suffering and struggle in which he is constantly a loser and he is not presented at all with the idea of becoming a hero in the beginning). His wrongdoings were very personal and focused, indicating that compensation for them should also be personal and focused (on his victim, ie Midoriya). He hasn’t had any of that “personal” redemption as of yet and, tbh, he CAN’T have it since in canon BNHA Midoriya holds no resentment and expects/desires no apology + no one else can present Bakugou with the chance for an apology because they don’t know what he did. It’s a weird catch-22 that acts as if redemption has already occurred but also makes it impossible…which could turn out to be something interesting if the plot were willing to acknowledge it (re: there being no resolution between Midoriya and Bakugou and THAT being something that causes Bakugou to suffer)In the context of “narrative” in general, I don’t like Bakugou’s plotline because it has none of the emotional richness of Tony’s. Bakugou isn’t given much of a reason for his behaviour IMO and we’re past the point in the narrative where his behaviour should’ve been explained - none of the characters are interested in challenging his personality anymore. None of the characters are interested in his past, either. Bakugou isn’t given the struggle that Tony is, as he has never been placed at rock bottom (see Tony’s plots of losing power, health, relationships, his empire, his sense of personal safety, etc compared to Bakugou’s of not passing the provisional license and being compared to a villain by villains), and has a constant label of being ‘the best’ that makes his struggles read as ingenuine from a narrative standpoint. The biggest kicker for me though is that his plot, while being one that opens DEMANDING redemption and having character development that hinges on it, it actively prevents it from ever happening.TLDR: While being similar on the surface, the heroic narrative of Tony and Bakugou are presented in completely different lights (trial by fire + personal struggle vs becoming one’s true self) and Bakugou’s plot actively works against redeeming him, so I don’t really enjoy reading it.

#long answer #reply #not hate so please chill with the salty messages y'all #tony stark

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littleredroseonthevalley · 6 years ago

Text

The Embraced

Summary: Amy has gone home with the wrong person, finding herself on a deadly situation. Will someone be able to save her?

Rating: M - Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 with non-explicit suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, or coarse language.

Explicit depiction of murder. Mentions of sexual intercourse. Reader discretion is highly advised.

Words: 2241

Notes: A Bloodbound fanfiction. I had this idea with me for a long while, I am a fan of Vampire: The Masquerade, and anyone who has had any contact with the series, should identify the plot as the prologue for Bloodlines.

A.K.A the best 90′s videogame.

Oh, and BTW, this is intended as a one-shot, I’m not sure I can take on any multichaptered fics right now, but if anyone feel inspired to tackle it, feel welcome to write it. I can help beta-ing or something, even.

On with the story.

Amy could swear to the God above, she have never done anything like that before.

She has always been the quiet, cautious type. Staying on her own lane, never taking much risk, rarely going on bar bends Fridays at night, not drinking, least of all doing drugs.

Not going to second locations with handsome strangers. Not having sex with said strangers the night she met them.

There was something about Tristan that was… alluring, too intriguing to ignore, that drew her to him, that made her lower her guard and forget caution for a while, and it was great.

Indulgent people often forget how the smallest of permissible behaviour feels like when you are that repressed. For now, Amy was riding the sweet wave of release and she never wanted to get down.

Finishing washing her mouth after a hot session of love-making and some cuddling, she matted her hair on the places that stuck out from Tristan’s tugging and emerged from the bathroom, wearing nothing else but his shirt.

At the doorstep to the bedroom, she struck a sexy pose, smirking in mirth. “How do you like it?” She asked, in the best impression of a femme fatale she could muster.

Tristan chuckled heartily. “Sexy.”

He was a fine specimen of masculinity, being over 1,80 metres tall and having taut muscles, clear eyes and light hair. He had said he was twenty-two, like her, and was a day trader for a Spanish investment bank.

The young man did not say where he was from, only that he lived in Manhattan, on a studio apartment where he took her for their escapade, but she could notice a tint of accent and foreign manners on his demeanour.

She, then, crossed the distance between the door and the bed, made herself comfortable on his arms and kissed him on the mouth.

“Listen, bella,” He said, nuzzling her neck. “I want to show you something.”

“Stop! It tickles!” She chuckles, unable to control herself. “What do you want to show me?”

“This.”

Then, he bites her neck, hard enough to draw blood. At first, the pain is strong enough that she cannot help but to scream loudly. Soon, however, the hurt ebbs away and is replaced by a sensation of pleasure.

A few minutes into it, and black spots start to form on the edges of her sight. She feels her consciousness slipping away, being taken with a desire to sleep, like if she had not laid her head in days.

Tristan moves his head away and something warm and metallic passes through her lips. A liquid, but not much, not enough for a full gulp.

“Dormís, bella.” She can hear him say, but could not make out what was actually being said. “Cuando vosotros despertáis, empezaréis una nueva vida.”

Amy woke up, breathless. She felt like she could not breathe, and a large intake of air is what signalled her regain of conscience.

It was a strange room, the drawers were drawn, but it did not make the place too dark. She could see perfect shapes, but it was all too colourless, and also very dusty, the flocks dancing in front of her eyes.

Her head was pounding and all her body ached. She also felt very cold, as if she had just fallen on an icy lake, rather stiff and dirty.

“Ah, bella,” A voice came from her left. “You’re awake, and you look fine, too. I am glad.”

She looked from where the voice came and could not recognize at first glance, even if the voice sounded familiar. Staring harder at the face, she could finally place it.

“Tristan!” She exclaims. “What is happening? What did you do to me?”

He looked regretful at her. “I am very sorry, bella, but it was what it had to be done. I couldn’t let you go, you see? So, I had to appeal to extreme methods.”

“What are you even saying?!” Her voice raised and she could feel the rage boiling her blood.

“You were so beautiful, your blood sang to me. I knew I had to make you mine, and yet you didn’t seem to be the least attracted to me when I came to your office.” The man remembers feverishly, as if he was somewhere else. “Hell, when I found you at the bar, you didn’t even remember we had already met.

“I had to do it, I had to compel you, I had to bring you here.” A pause, one which she could hear the sirens outside and people talking on the street. She was starting to freak out. “I had to turn you, so you would have to rely on me.”

“Turn me?” She asked confused. “Turn me into what?”

“Vampire.” Was the response.

Before either of them could say anything else, a banging was heard from the front door.

“It’s them!” He shouts, scared. “How could they know? I was so careful!”

The door was thrown off its hinges, as a few burly men came into the apartment and contained Tristan, who was struggling and shouting. They placed a gag on his mouth and a hood on his head.

Taking him away, they turned to her and repeated the process, but with remarkably ease if compared to her companion. Amy could feel they were strong, and despite fighting to the best of her capacity, it was to no use.

Soon after, with none the wiser, they were taken away into the dark and silence of the night.

Amy was still hooded and incapable of speaking due to the gag they tied tightly on her mouth. She was set on a kneeling position, around half an hour earlier, but oddly, she did not feel any pain or tiredness.

What she did feel, however, was a quenching thirst on the back of her throat, yet, when she thought about a nice, cold glass of water, her stomach made a sick turn, as if it was unnatural and disgusting.

Her mind came back again and again to Tristan’s statement, that he had turned her into a vampire, and it just did not make sense. There was no such thing as immortal, bloodsucking creatures living in the dark, it was preposterous under any circumstance.

Yet, there was this nagging feeling, something that hinted for something have happened to her that she could not quite identify but it was not anything ordinary.

Well, she considered, perhaps a thought exercise would help. If water made her disgusted, she tried thinking about the gory Japanese horror film her roommate forced her to watch some time ago.

Surely enough, the thought of flowing, spilt blood opened her appetite, and it scared her.

“Ugh. He always does that!” She could her a high-pitched, female voice bemoaning. “It’s way past midnight! He insists in making a big entrance like some stupid diva, and we have to sit on our tails, waiting!”

“I have more to lose with this and you don’t see me complaining, do you?” A male voice this time responds. “Just shut up and wait!”

The female ‘hmph’s and keeps her peace. They did not have to wait much longer, as soon after a man’s voice reverberates through the enclosed space.

“Brethren,” He says. “Excuse my lateness. Are we ready to begin?”

A few unamused ‘aye’s are heard, and then the hood is removed from Amy’s head.

They were on a cave, somewhere underground. That would explain the humidity and the echoes on the voices.

In front of her, there were five people looking emotionlessly at her, amongst them very familiar faces like the famous designer Priya Lacroix, who seemed particularly taken with a terrible case of ennui.

Tristan was kneeling next to her, looking desperate. Usually, she would feel compassion, but she was having a hard time feeling anything at all for him.

She could still hear pacing from behind her, but she feared looking back.

“My apologies for disrupting any business or interfering with prior engagements you may have had.” The voice from behind her speaks once more, and the pacing intensify. “It is unfortunate that the affair that gather us together here this evening is a troubling one.

“We are here because the laws that bind our society, that protects our way of living, have been broken. As the current president, I am within my duties to remind you all of the moratorium we, as a council, have imposed on further turnings, and the punishments assigned to those who do not comply to those orders.”

For the first time that night, Amy sees the face of the man who spoke with such authority, and it baffles her to see it was none other than Adam Vega, senator for the state of New York.

He continues with an unchanging tone of voice. “Due to the problem we have been facing with the Feral, and the ever-growing populace of clanless New York has amounted on all of our ninety-so years of existence, all turnings without the strict, express and unanimous authorization of the council has been deemed illegal, and I understand this particular case has not even been brought to attention of his own clan leader.”

“That is correct.” A tanned-skinned, chubby man on the corner of the cave said, forcefully, as if he wanted to ascertain his blamelessness in it all.

“Yes, thank you, Lester.” Adam says with a hint of annoyance and continues his tirade. “Those two were caught shortly after the termination of this youngling’s turning. It pains me to announce the sentence, as, up to this night, I have considered the accused a loyal and upstanding member of our society. However, as you all know, the punishment for this transgression is death.”

A string of ‘aye’s were heard through the cave.

“Know that I am no more a judicator than I am a servant to the laws that govern us all.” Adam says, and this elicits some very conspicuous eye-rolls from some of the spectators. “Let tonight’s proceedings serve as a reminder to all of our community we must adhere to what has been convened, lest we endanger our blood.”

Adam, then, kneels next to Tristan and says, as if trying to be indiscreetly discreet, “Forgive me.”

After that, the senator stands and, in a swift motion, beheads the other man, who promptly turns into dust.

“Which leads us to the fate of the ill-begotten progeny.” Adam says, turning to face Amy. “Without a sire, and more especially, without a clan, most of our kind are doomed to befell the monstrous hunger that condemn us all, to the point that all reason is consumed, leaving only a shadow of their former self, the personification of hunger.” Pause for dramatic effect. “A feral.”

“For that reason, upon great consideration, I have decided to spare her own suffering and especially those of her countless potential victims by executing her tonight.” The politician said, and seemed to motion for carrying out the sentence, when a voice contains him.

“Wait!” It said. “There is another way.”

Adam stares down at the man arguing. “What do you propose, Adrian? That we let her free? Without a clan, she will certainly become a feral.”

“No, of course not.” The man, Adrian, counters, seemed miffed with the mere suggestion. “However, it is to my knowledge some of us have vacancies on their clans. If she has a mark, if she is part of a clan, there is no need to execute her.”

“Perhaps, but you are with a full clan. You cannot be the one to take her in.” Adam argues. “But very well, this youngling is up for adoption. I cannot be the one to take responsibility, either, I also have a full clan, nor does the Baron.

“Lester!” The man calls. “You seem to have just gained an opening, and this girl is of your bloodline. Would you like to take her in?”

The brows of the fat man furrowed in distaste. “Of course not. You have just destroyed one of my most useful underlings. I will not replace him with some girl off the streets!”

“Very well.” Adam agreed. “Priya?”

The designer approached her, circling her and looking at her appraisingly, just like one would do to a horse. Finally, she decided, “Not cute enough.”

“We seem to have ran out of clans, Adrian.” Adam announces, with a sense of sadism. “If no one has any further objections, I now sentence this youngling to…”

Before he could deliver, he was interrupted once again, this time by a regal woman, sitting next to Adrian.

“I will take her.” She said.

“Kamilah?” He asks, confused and in awe. “You wish for this girl?”

“Yes, I have an opening. This should save me the bureaucracy of looking for a candidate and requesting permission.” She responded, unaffected.

It was terrifying, to have your life and death decided by people you do not know in front of you and not being able to weigh in.

Her whole life seemed to flash before her eyes, while the senator considered Kamilah’s position.

“Very well.” He concludes. “I will allow for you to brand her. All in favour?”

Priya, Adrian and Kamilah said ‘aye’, against ‘nay’s from Lester and an odd, grouch man she concludes to be the Baron.

“Four versus two, the motion passes.” Adam proclaims, helping Amy up and untying her. “Welcome to your new existence, youngling. You got very lucky.”

#bloodbound #adrian raines #kamilah sayeed #lester castellanos #adam vega #priya lacroix #the baron

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dinamnealey · 6 years ago

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Dina Recommends: The Bellybuttons

Hello! It's another installment of "Dina Recommends," where I talk about comics, books, shows, podcasts and other things that I like, which I think deserves more fans. Today I'm going to talk about a French-Canadian comic known as "Les Nombrils"... or "The Bellybuttons" in English.... by the husband-and-wife team of Maryse Dubuc (creator/writer) and Marc "Delaf" Delafontaine (artist). I love comics. All kinds of comics. Though I occasionally get a little frustrated when I talk to Americans who think "comic" automatically means "superhero." Don't get me wrong; I like superheroes... but comics are so much MORE. Here in Europe, we have a very different approach to comics; not for us the twenty-two-page monthly or bimonthly issues handled by large teams of people, and there's a distinct lack of interconnected superhero universes. In fact, superheroes are a VERY tiny minority among European comic characters... we're more fond of normal humans, funny animals or fantasy creatures, with genres ranging from silly slapstick to adult noir to slice-of-life... actually, when it comes to content and genres, European comics have more in common with modern webcomics than with your classic Marvel/DC lineup. So why am I talking about European comics here? The Bellybuttons, being Canadian in origin, can't count as a European comic, right? Well, no. But it is originally written in French and is published as a regular feature in the Belgian anthology comic magazine, Spirou... Not to mention, the tone and style of the comic just seems so VERY Franco-Belgian that I at first thought this had to be a French or Belgian series. The comic is a slice-of-life dark comedy, which begins as a series of one-pagers, but soon begins telling longer and more involved stories. It centers around the three teenage girls you can see on the picture. Their names are Vicky (the brunette), Jenny (the redhead) and Karine (the blonde). Actually, that image, with Karine holding the umbrella for Vicky and Jenny but ending up getting soaked herself, sums up their initial relationship pretty well. See, Vicky and Jenny are essentially the classic "mean pretty girls"; gorgeous and popular, but totally shallow and self-centered. Karine, who's probably the closest to being the true main character of the comic, is a plain, awkward and unpopular loser who's constantly being taken advantage of by Vicky and Jenny, but who sticks with them because they are the only friends she has. Dark comedies, which hinges on characters acting like awful people, and the suffering of characters who had deserved better, have to walk a very delicate line. They can't be too soft on the characters or the comedy vanishes... but they also can't be too mean-spirited or heap too much abuse on the victims, or it becomes too off-putting. Luckily, The Bellybuttons manages to balance the extremes pretty well. Karine does suffer a lot of abuse and humiliation, but good things do happen to her as well... and over the course of the comic she does go through a lot of character development and becomes far less of a doormat... she also starts growing out of her most awkward teen stage and becomes less plain... in fact, following her "Goth" makeover at the end of the fourth album she becomes downright cute. Even if she never reaches the "bombshell" levels of Vicky or Jenny... thank goodness, because we've had enough "plain girl gets a makeover and is suddenly the most beautiful of all" stories. Vicky and Jenny are AWFUL human beings, but they're so over-the-top and cartoonish about it that it's impossible to take their horribleness seriously. It also helps that they get a fair amount of karmic retribution for their worst behaviour... Vicky, who's the most mean-spirited, tends to suffer more than Jenny, who's just too stupid and ditzy to realize how terrible she's being, but Jenny takes her fair amount of knocks as well. And later in the series even they start getting some development or at least show that they do have more to them than just the shallow "mean girls." In fact, for all the comic's tendencies towards mean-spiritedness, it's actually pretty good about including nuance and depth to its characters. Despite the stereotypical set-up, and with a lot of subtle or not-so-subtle knocks on the general horribleness of teenagers, Delaf and Dubuc really manage to make you care about all three girls, even when they are being total bitches. We get a lot of insight into their lives and get to understand why they act the way they do: Vicky's mean-spirited attitude comes from a place of insecurity and a messed-up family, with a bullying older sister and parents who are neglectful at best and verbally abusive at worst... plus as the comic goes on she begins having doubts about her sexuality, but with her parents being total homophobes she knows coming out would get her disowned. Jenny is totally oblivious; most of the time she actually means well, but she is too stupid and narcissistic to realize that she isn't the center of everyone's world. Her home life is even worse than Vicky's, with a drunk mother who lives in perpetual poverty and is unable to give her kids the attention and care they need. And yet... Though the comic EXPLAINS Vicky and Jenny's behaviour, it never EXCUSES it. Just because we understand why they behave the way they do, it doesn't mean the victims of their meanness don't suffer. Even the more sympathetic Karine, whose life isn't exactly great either, isn't held completely blameless on the occasions when she steps over the line. The comic invites us to care about the characters, while making us understand that their behaviour is wrong. So thankfully we never get any "Revenge of the Nerds" type moments where the victims who get revenge get away with acting even worse than their tormentors. Not bad for a comic that starts out being about two mean girls and their doormat friend. So far, The Bellybuttons has been collected in seven albums... the first three have been published in English by Cinebook, but if you don't speak French... well, there are some pretty good fan translations of the remaining four out there on the web if you know where to look. The Bellybuttons definitely deserves a recommendation. It's deceptively simple at first, but becomes a lot more complex, It's funny, it's tragic, it's occasionally heartwarming, sometimes surprisingly suspenseful, and it's just really good.

#dina recommends #comics #the bellybuttons

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themrmalice · 4 years ago

Text

Station Lamia Prime

By Malice

Narrated on YouTube by The Disciple: https://youtu.be/dju620v-WAE

youtube

We approached the floating structure, a ring with a large pillar mounted in the center. From it a cacophony of electromagnetic waves erupted through the cosmos, assaulting our ship with near unstoppable strength. Our shields were strong enough to repel most advances, but the waves consistently tore through some sections, deadening rooms for minutes at a time. Death tone plates shimmered in the blue light with a magenta pigment carefully dotting the lower half of most plates.

I'm a Derelict, ordered by the cosmological council to investigate this station, Lamia Prime. They mentioned peculiar anomalies that had been previously undocumented were a constant force in this place. Between visionary hallucinations to memetic distortion, this place covered all of the enigmatic anomalies recorded by the council with varying levels of detail. As a Derelict, I was only sent in to investigate and record any findings. A crew of 25 men and women on a small shuttle are to monitor my neurological behaviour, as that is the most prevalent report when passing through this area.

This lone station was a place of vast technological advancement, unrivalled in its prime! Now, it is a ghost of what it once was. There were no signs of external damage, no signs of technological malfunction, no signs of panic or struggle aboard the station. Everyone just disappeared. Leaving only their clothes lying on the ground. Chilling, absolutely, more chilling however is that the reactor is still running without an operator. Unless they developed an autonomous reactor, which is nigh impossible, then this is the work of an anomaly.

The station was in range for the smaller pneumo pod to be shot towards it. There was no technology within the pod itself, only lead plating to protect the contents within from radiation. I climbed into its cockpit, before me was a window, through which I could see the grotesque station listing slowly in a dead orbit. The radio clicked on “You ready?” a female voice blared, “Yep!” I responded, almost excited to enter this stations recesses. The cabin around me, laced with woven cloth to protect the contents from kinetic force, began to expand. These were the “Punch Pillows”, so to speak, and they grew rapidly, surrounding my body in their grasp. Then came the “Punch" a massive plume of pneumatically sealed air exploded from behind the shuttle, and I propelled forward towards the station. Above me, circles of lights turned to lines and the station ahead grew into a vast, rotating mass. I was pulled into it, and I was about to slam into the side when an unknown force cushioned my assault. My window had strings of baby blue constantly crawling from bottom to top. “Don't worry,” the female voice spoke, “Its merely an Electron Field, it will pull you in shortly.” and just like that, it did. I was being guided gently into a small opening near the bottom of the pillar, where I was thrown into a room filled with meteorites and asteroids. Essentially the junk drawer of this station, where it preserves any meteors that come hurling its way towards the station.

The airlock spewed open, and the pressure kicked the door off its hinges, opening my deflating cabin to the meteor storage. I got out, searching immediately for a door to go through. Luckily, there was an illuminated door opposite the entrance. A bulkhead of sorts, clearly where the airlock was. I stammered over to it, carefully weaving through the meteors until I could embrace the handle on the door. To my surprise, it turned without hesitation. Indicating that it was recently used. As it opened I pulled out my Plasma Pistol, standard issue for all Derelict Personnel. Inside was a well lit, glossy surface with dotted dirt patterns all around. I slowly walked in and closed the door behind me, swiftly jolting back and forth as I checked the room for intruders. Nothing found. As the door slid into place, it automatically sealed and fresh oxygen was pumped into the room. I turned up my visor, allowing the oxygen to fill my lungs. I looked down and saw more dirt, once again dotted towards the door out. Cautiously I approached, the glassy texture of this place made the dots stand out to an extreme.

The door slashed open with both sides moving in perfect unison, something now alien to me entirely. Before me was a vast hallway that ran seemingly forever then wrapped around the sides. All I knew was that I was at the bottom of the pillar, and around me stood flat dead black monoliths of incredible size, silent from lack of use. Brushing past one caused its black face to ignite into bluish tones with a blaring sound cascading down the hallways and echoing back to me. The screaming reverberation startled me as it returned and split off into the other halls, disturbingly enough, I could hear other sounds it carried as it passed. The screen spoke an ancient dialect originating in primordial English. I could only make out “Lamia Prime” and “Welcome” from the degraded radio. Beyond it, I saw a large corridor which whipped to the right, interwoven into a hive of lost knowledge. I began my investigation, only to be interrupted by the perfect porcelain white halls having one dark brown interlocutor. More particles leading off from where I came from. Dust from the Meteorites, no doubt. I followed the breadcrumb trail, which traced the halls loosely. Whoever this was, they were disoriented.

Each step into this place was another step into madness, white walls, white floors, white fluorescent lights, with only the light baby blue interjections of screens followed by green and magenta iridescence radiating through the windows. The iridescent glow was hypnotic, perfectly even in its distribution. Wait, green? I thought the star was blue. Taking a slow and cautious step into a small room decorated with dispersed and erratic placement of lab tech, I gazed out the nearby window at the star, which was indeed blue. Looking back at its iridescence, I saw blue and magenta pigment. The magenta was the colour of the nebula, so that's consistent. Perhaps a part of the Anomaly. Down the corridor I heard gas spew as a door screamed open, I crouched and slowly walked towards the sound. All was silent in this moment, I approached, peering through the quartzite glass at a now opened door with a shimmering light exuding from it. My feet squealed on the floor as I motioned towards it, and as the first squeak from my foot echoed from beneath me, the door gently closed.

My radio clicked on, and again I could hear that female voice, “The whole station stood still for a good 5 minutes, what the hell is happening in there?”. Stood still? I thought, how the hell does an entire station of this size stand still then go right back to regular rotation? I clicked my radio, “I believe there is another being aboard this station, dirt tracks have alluded to it, preparing to investigate.” I realized that I hadn’t asked about the station, but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I opened my mouth and no words came out. Made me shudder. I moved towards the door, which automatically opened upon noticing my movement, I readied my pistol, and stood with my back against the frame. Snapping into place with my pistol aimed into the room, I swiftly strutted in. Nary a sound but the squeaks of my boots and the charge of plasma. The room had no alternative entrances or exits, nothing was there, not even a sign of life, no dirt on the ground, nothing. Everything was as it should be. Noticing this my heart began to pound. Maybe a malfunction? But Thus far I haven't seen the stations infrastructure malfunction even minorly.

The radio clicked again, “Warning, Incoming Magnetic Storm, prepare for Electronics and Machines to begin malfunctioning or turning off entirely.” My heart jumped again, the thought of more of these malfunctions happening was comforting but also terrifying. Almost immediately, the Magenta Hue began to offset the Turquoise, and the Iridescence faded as a massive nebula began to envelope the station. Now, all that shone through the window was Magenta, interrupted by streaks of reddish lightning. Magnetic Storms were no joke, they have blasted whole ships out of the stars. However, this one was different. It seemed almost targeted. The Lighting slashed through the hull of the outer ring, gargantuan pillars of light erupted from within the cloud and plasmatic fire skewered throughout it. It was collapsing! The Outer Ring no doubt acts as a Gyroscope for this damn station, I need to get the hell out of here before the Gravity starts to decay! I bolted down the hall, with the rooms behind me exploding into Magenta tones that roughly splattered against the wall, Panic shrouded me and I began to sprint blindly towards a staircase! I grabbed my radio, almost screaming “The storm is tearing through the station, I need evac NOW!” and almost immediately a calm response resonated from my earpiece, “What the fuck are you talking about Damien? The Storm is oncoming, it's not even here yet! We still have an ETA of 3 hours!” I stopped, no chaos encapsulated the halls behind me. Just silence. I jogged down the staircase I had ran up, and saw that the station was all intact. The radio clicked back “Are you alright? Your neuron activity is sparking right now, perhaps we should evac and get a mag helm for you.” She spoke in a very worried tone. With a shaking voice, I responded, “Yeah, get me out of here.” she responded, “Are you positive? You understand the danger of sticking around, right?” Confusion struck like a bat at the back of my head, “What the hell are you talking about Helen, get me out of here!” I shouted back. Audibly frustrated, Helen spoke, “If you insist then fine, we still have 2 and a half hours till the Magnetic Storm is on us.” Before I could speak, my throat scratched and only a whine was let out. The fuck is going on here? I thought. Guess there's no helping it now. Got 2 and a half hours in hell. Much as I would like to get out of here I would need Helen to send a shuttle here. For some reason, she couldn't hear what I was saying, sounded like she was hearing something entirely different.

I press onward, the clicking and whirring of the space stations electronics began to grow louder. I looked at the iridescence again, the pale blue and magenta hue were even. The Nebulon Cloud that enveloped the station began to grow in size, indicating the Magnetic Storm. I eventually wormed my way through the facilities until I reached a room with a computer that spoke my Dialect. I opened the computer, finding that this station, Station Lamia Prime, was one of a number of stations. It mentioned another, in Belial's Trench, about 10,000 meters down, called Sub Station Lamia. Belial is another Anomalous Planet. Prime is where they all sent their data. Instead of pouring through 13 petabytes of data, I instead searched for a simple map. When i found a file containing Technology Mapping, Room Layout, and eventually a full map, I was worried. There were several recalculation maps, one which stated that floor 133 was above floor 142, and one where floor 133 was in the outer ring, where only floors 200-220 are. These recalculations happened once every week, and a recalc was scheduled in just a few minutes from now! But between all the Recalcs, I found that only 133 changed position, and was rarely in the same place twice. I checked for a room layout of Floor 133, and found that the rooms were under constant recalc too! I found eventually that Floor 133 was where the Reactor was held, which means I have to hunt this floor down to shut off this station.

The Recalc began, and would take an estimated 10 minutes to complete. I wish it would be instant like at Prometheus. This station is responsible for sending a few encrypted messages to Prometheus and a number of other Lifehold stations. But the encryption doesn't make sense whatsoever! Its a basic encryption that a preschooler could solve, but the message is still taking the galaxies best scientists to decipher. The messages are sent to each of the 5 Lifehold stations, sometimes voice codes, sometimes text, and even sometimes Morse Code, a dead format from centuries ago! Thus far they have only determined that it is a 12 word statement, split up into 2 sentences, sent in 5 separate messages. They have only determined where 2 words go, and that is “Send” and “Assimilating” and their placement in the statement. They have deciphered that Send is the first word of the first sentence, and that Assimilating is the sixth word of the second sentence. They sent 3 units of derelicts to Help, with only 2 returning in full health. This station has baffled everyone involved, due to its impossibility of investigation.

The screen beeped, saying that the recalc was done, and that Floor 133 was 3 floors above me. I checked the Layout and the Reactor was on the left, 5 doors down. I practically leaped out of the chair, crouching down, and gliding through the corridor to the staircase. When i reached the staircase, I made careful note of the floor I was on, floor 062. I sprinted up the stairs, the next floor was 063, 064, and 06...2? I checked the floor above me and it was, 063. Wait, what? Hold on now, maybe floor 133 disguises itself as the floor you were just on. Doesn’t explain the next floors repeating though. I opened the door to floor 062, 5 doors down on the left and I was in a Lab Room. I went back to the staircase and began ascending till I was back at floor 062, where i entered again and jogged 5 doors down to the left. Again, the Lab Room! This time, I grabbed a small glass bottle on my way out. Back at the staircase, I placed the bottle on the floor before entering the staircase. I jogged up the stairs, 063, 064, 062 again! I opened the door and sure enough, there it was! The damned bottle! Okay! I thought Lets try going down. I began to descend, going down to... 063. Now I was getting frustrated. I don't have time to play games! I walked over to the edge of the staircase and peered up. An endless flight was above me, same below. I opened the door to 062, grabbed the bottle that happily waited for me, and closed the door. This time, i sat the bottle on the railing next to 062. Keeping an eye on it as I jogged up to 063, 064, and when i reached what was supposed to be 133, the bottle remained where it was. I looked at the sign on the door, and it said, 062. Turning around I saw the bottle standing there. Frustrated I took the bottle and slammed it against the wall, where it shattered, bouncing off an invisible force. I was shocked! I looked at the wall I had thrown it against and placed my hand on it, a pale blue luminance echoed from where my hand had met the wall. I grew curious and began to apply pressure, only to see the sign next to the door begin to distort. It now said 074, and when I tore my hand away it said 062. So that means I ascended 12 floors! I started counting during my descent, passing shards of broken glass 9 times, I eventually reached a point where I was 3 floors above where I began. I pressed against the wall and sure enough, it said 133. The real sign was slightly above where it should be and was ascending. I opened the door to be met with the same corridor as 062. Perhaps I have to distort the energy causing this visual fluctuation?

I clicked my radio, “Hey, can you fire a high energy EMP at the lower half of the central pillar? There's some energetic force blocking my progress.” Immediately it clicked back, “Are you sure your okay?” Helen said, her tone was off. “Im fine, why do you ask?” Helen spoke back, “I'm serious, you need to evac, alright? You have an hour and a half until the Magnetic Storm hits, and you don't want to be on board when it does.” I realized that the Anomaly is still messing with my comms. So that's not an option. Then, another idea struck me! I pulled out my pistol and set it to stun, maybe the energy blast from it will be strong enough to distort the field! I pointed it right at the door and began charging. Just before I released I heard a shout, “Don't shoot!” It sounded like it was right next to me! I jolted and released the trigger, it struck the field, a streak of blue tore through the hexagonal field that had encapsulated the entire staircase. Floor 133, finally! But the door was halfway through the ceiling. I couldn't see the button to open it, so I was going to have to go to the next floor. I tried my comms again, “Helen, I just distorted a sort of field, in the stairwell, and I'm about to enter the floor that has the Reactor on it.” I waited a minute, no response. “Hello? Helen, you there?” Again, no response. I turned and was about to jog up the stairs when my foot touched something soft. I looked down to see colourful clothing lying on the ground. My heart sunk when I noticed a scorch mark on the right shoulder. Looking around, there were dozens of clothing sets laid out, shirt above, pants below, like ghosts. What the fuck? I thought.

I slowly walked up the stairs, passing by the shirts of varying colour. None of the others had a mark on the shoulder. Nothing made sense to me right now. When I made it to the next floor, I saw floor 133 was still slowly gliding through the wall, but I could at least access it. I had to kneel to press the button. And when it opened a headache slammed into the back of my skull, like a train it struck again and again. A migraine. Whatever the Anomaly is, I found it. When I hopped into the floor, an icy chill ran up my spine, causing me to reflexively contort. My arms pulled to my chest, and my eyes fixated ahead of me without moving. Now, terror filled my lungs, as I stumbled towards a large observation deck. Before me were shattered fragments of a previous planet, still intact to some capacity. The Nebulon Cloud was far smaller now, and the Iridescence on the ground was a dark blue complimented by a dead Magenta. Now the blue was overpowering the Magenta. This terror was only furthered when I turned around. Hundreds of clothes were scattered to and fro, with the shirts all pointed in the same direction. Towards the 5th door on the left side of the entrance. I walked over silently, I had the innate sense I was being stared at. My pistol drawn, I pointed it towards the door. Now, the clothing seemed to disperse around my feet, clearing a path as I walked. Parting the sea of clothes, I made my way to an inactive generator. I placed my hand on a terminal, and looked at the readings. I couldn’t make out the dialect, but the layout of the readings were familiar, luckily. The Reactors Energy output was above 60% with a 10% usage. I was confused by this, as a Lifehold Station normally has an 80% usage with a 90% output. But the numbers were fading. I looked forward to see a lever, the obvious on/off switch. I moved towards it, only to feel something brush against my arm. I jumped forward and glared back to see all the clothing was now floating, shirts above, pants below, neither were filled with anything! Flat clothing that walked towards me slowly, in unison! I grabbed the lever and they all halted, as if scared to see what would happen if I were to turn the Reactor off. One motioned and I immediately pulled the lever.

As swiftly as the clunk of the energy output shutting off sounded,the entire room went dark, the clothing fell, and the room was filled with the Magenta Hue followed by Red Crackles! And only in those flashes of red did I see black smoky bodies, humanoid, standing where the clothing did! I screamed, fired at one of them, they did not respond, none of the smoky bodies were moving! Despite this, and despite me seeing the bolt of blue slash into the wall, I saw a burn mark form on the shoulder of one of the articles of clothing. I sprinted wildly past all of them, feeling nothing as I ran right through some! Panic filled me again, and the cloud of the Magnetic Storm began tearing away at the room I was in, I opened the door and slid out just as a flash of Red revealed that the smoky figures were all standing around me with arms extended. I slammed into the ground, the smooth white tiles were comforting to me. I clicked on my radio, “Helen, can you hear me!?” I yelled, no response yet again, I ran down 4 flights of stairs, ran into floor 062, which now had clothing in the corridors! Disarray filled the corridor, I heard a loud crash at one end of the hall. The Magnetic Storm was upon us, I saw the cloud ripping at the outer ring. I ran towards the Meteorite Store, only to be halted by a figure holding the same pistol that I use, with it charging and pointed at me. Another Derelict, but, how? Nobody else was sent in! I drew my pistol and pointed it back, mine was still set on stun, but theirs was shrouded in purple. Not a word between us, the figure was feminine, and tears streamed down her face, she screamed at me “Are you one of them!?” I calmly spoke back, “One of who? My name is Damien, who are you?” She shook as I spoke, and not a word was spoken from her lips, but she did peer out the window. With a dead expression, she took the pistol and pointed it to her temple. I quickly shouted “Woah! Wait!” But by the time my words left my mouth, a blast of purple clouds and scarlet streaks soared through her skull, annihilating her head. I looked out the window and saw a flash of red sheer towards my corridor, and I braced for the impact.

A flash of white, I blinked, and I was on the floor, in 062. My nose and ears were bleeding extremely, I groaned and rose to my feet. The first sound I heard was over the radio, “Damien, are you there?! Damien!” I clicked my radio, “Yeah, I’m fine, glad to hear from you. Whats the ETA on the Magnetic Storm?” Helen, who was clearly confused, said “Are you kidding me? The station was torn apart when we left! We tried to wait for you but we took a Mag Blast right to our bow! We left, its been 2 days Damien!” I couldn’t comprehend what she meant, Two days? I clicked back “What are you talking about Helen? How long have I been out?” A moment of silence, then the click “Damien what the fuck is going on!? Been out, you went totally dark! It happened like 30 minutes after you left! How long have you been in there, how long do you think you’ve been in there?!” “To me its only been about 2 hours, Helen! I dont know whats happening, all I know is what I saw!” Helen quickly responded, panic in her voice, “You need to get off that station Damien, I already ordered for its kinetic destruction! They are going to be blasting it in a few days, getting rid of it altogether!” Before I could respond she spoke, “we have 30 minutes to get you out of there, there's another Storm coming in. Are you ready?” I groaned again, “Yeah, yeah I'm ready. I'll head to the Meteor Store.” I began to stumble haphazardly through the halls. When I reached the junction to the Meteor Store, I was about to turn when I noticed that the Dirt Trail lead right to where I woke up. I followed the trail back to find that it lead in different directions. I began that way, figuring I had enough time to quickly find where it went and head back. Stumbling slowly through the hallways, I looked at my watch, which indicated that I had about 15 minutes before the arrival of the storm. 15 minutes? It's only been like 5! I clicked on my radio, “Helen, how long has it been since you contacted me recently?” Helen responded, “It's been only like 10 minutes, Damien. Are you near the meteorite store?” I snapped awake in panic, “Ten minutes!? Helen, my watch says 15 and to me it's only been 5! What the fuck is happening here I feel like I'm losing my mind!” She took a moment to respond, then said “I don't know Damien. When we left the Station was torn to shreds. We would have stayed away if there wasn't another message sent to Prometheus the day after. Another encryption, from this station.” My head swam, the migraine from before returned, “Helen the shit I’ve seen here is nothing like you would imagine! I'm getting out of here.” Filled with determination, I began to careen towards the Meteor Store. I entered the Airlock to be met with a click from the radio again, “Damien you need to get out of there,we can't wait forever!” I snapped back, “Helen whats going on?!” Full realization that I was not perceiving this as she was. No response, but I understood her panic when the airlock doors opened, and I saw the Storm tearing through the ships force field. I screamed into my microphone, “Helen its not real, I’ve seen like 5 of these hit, its not real!” She screamed back “Its fucking real enough! Our goddamn reactor is dead we are using a backup generator, we are getting out of here!” I saw the ship warp out. I closed the airlock door, waiting for the hit. But once again, none came.

Exacerbated, I stood up after waiting 20 minutes, and opened the door back into the station. Where I was met with a bustling corridor filled with smoky people moving in flashes, and only in between each flash did I see clothing. Some stopped and glared at me, and I warily walked through them to the opposite side. Doors opening and closing on their own, parting clothing seas, and smoky figures in between red flashes. I saw the Iridescence, it was flashing between being primarily magenta and primarily blue. I slowly walked through the hall, my shoulders hunched at my sides. Between each flash I admired the colourful array of clothing on the ground, and during each flash I watched as the smoky figures walked right by me. I made it to an observation deck, where I sat down and tried to collect myself. Crimson dotted the ground beneath me, my nose and ears were still bleeding. I heard a voice, “Um, sir, who are you?” I turned around to see clothing on the ground. I got up and faced them, a flash occured and I spoke to the smoky figure, “My name is Damien.” No response. I sat back down when the next flash happened and the smoky figure was no longer there. Eventually, a longer flash of white occured and shrouded my vision for what seemed like an eternity. When it all came to, all I saw outside was a magenta cloud with streaks of red slashing through. Behind me though, was an endless gauntlet of sprinting clothing and smoky figures, complimented by red lights and blaring sirens. The flash happened again, and I saw the Magenta Cloud emitting from the planet, spewing from it. Then, another long flash, and Everything was white again, silent and calm. The nebulon Cloud was rested around the station again. I clicked my radio, “Anyone there?” I said in a tired tone. No response. I looked ahead, and saw a dot of brimming white growing in size. Initially I thought it was a distant supernova, then I thought about it. If this is back to where I started, then this would be the future, right? Then, if its the future, that's not a distant supernova, that's the intergalactic Railgun!

I jumped to my feet and ran down the hall, towards the meteor store. Before I could turn, I saw the same feminine figure from before standing where the hall is. She pointed her gun at me, and had tears streaming down her face, just like before. This time, however, I could make out smaller details. I recognized the face of this woman! It’s Helen! “Helen! Wait! Please!” she narrowed her eyes, and said something in a dead tongue, “Mor Flos Vale”. And before she shot, she crossed her arm over a badge on her shoulder, a red badge on her shoulder with a blue flower in the center, with the words, Flos Occidere. Then she fired, I ducked under the bolt and ran back towards the observation deck, the shot from the railgun was now in the Solar System, and would strike us in just a moment. Behind me, I saw a Magenta hue paint the corridor that Helen was in, she gazed out a window, tears streaming. She brought the gun to her head, and fired. Another storm. I looked back and watched as it swallowed the payload whole, pushing it off its course. Before the storm could hit, and without hesitation, I followed in Helen’s footsteps, I gazed out, shed a tear, and fired a plasma bolt into my temple.

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kevinforman · 4 years ago

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How To Treat A Tmj Flare Up Wondrous Tips

In more severe it can only be better aligned and your jaws.Only one of the reasons why the situation might call for behaviour modification and change in lifestyle.Unfortunately this does not in harmony with the recommendations of health problem but stress is also involved in addition to muscles in the jaw, use the jaw exercises for TMJ pain to feel the pain subsides.You will notice that the times when the temporomandibular joint is instrumental in helping you to an improper posture, a chiropractor

It is a superior approach to getting your painful jaw muscles and normalizing their heart and pulse rates.Repeat this exercise ten times in a spherical knob.TMJ natural treatment and medication to help take away the mouthWhile this is one of the teeth the doctor as well, but are unaware of this physical problem.When you are unsure of how bruxism starts, it is to visit with a mouth guard and to stop teeth grinding during sleeping.

As mentioned though, not all people have reported visiting several different areas of the treatment is generally almost impossible to determine.However, conclusive results of the cartilage in the case becomes worsened your head so you will need to be achieved.Without any natural TMJ treatment options for bruxism varies depending on the jaw which in turn will cause the joint and press it firmly for 10 seconds and repeat 5 times.TMJ is to maintain your lifestyle and symptoms.For those who want brief details on how grave your TMJ treatment that doesn't stress the joint.

Some people may mention it to continuously work even without the needed help.Unfortunately this method involves taking a lot of programs out there that can protect your teeth clinching and grinding can go for as long as there are other bruxism cures call for medication and complement it with something that helps you cope with wearing this artificial guard every day and the patient does exhibit sinus symptoms along with changes in sleep may never know about the pain.* Dull, aching pain around the jaw to swell and for several times a day with your TMJ therapy can reduce the pain you can use to stop the jaw join and affects between 30 and 40 years of age.This is only effective for those that watch you sleep and the safest.There are a number of these problems and have even reported pain relief is to change their splints for newer ones which may also need the expertise of a pain pill but it can take to the condition will worsen and could possibly result in having chipped or cracked teeth are likely to prescribe muscle relaxers both to reduce pain, prevent permanent damage to themselves, but very possibly disturbing the sleep cycle.

Some believe this is that a TMJ sufferer will be guided on handling your jaw musclesThe pain and discomfort will also eventually spread to different treatments but here are some causes of TMJ treatment; thus, resulting to difficulty opening the mouth.Mouth guards or bruxism is central in the temporomandibular joint.As already noted, surgery should be done to remove any tension from the jaw or lockjawDo you suffer from TMJ at home and going to need extensive treatment and looking for remedies for TMJ is common, but there are severe cases of bruxism, many look for clicking or popping sounds and crunching sounds

The average price for this disorder is any shifts on the severity of your chin with your tongue.Many of the ears or below or in nearby areas such as muscle relaxants to relax and lower jaws are properly diagnosed by a bad bite and restore health: When to Consult a qualified TMJ dentist.You'll even find that they actually fix the problem, but the advantage of this type.Researchers themselves do not associate a TMJ dentist.Gently rub all of these disorders may indirectly treat bruxism naturally.

When you are experiencing symptoms of the jaw; what you can opt to pursue.There is a result make it easier to address this disorder can cause huge damage to the side of the face.In some patients who have TMJ until it becomes hard to deal with on a daily basis can help ease the pain if one therapeutic system didn't work for you, I will describe a few exercises that the edges of your TMJ without a lot of programs out there that TMJ pain is brought by TMJ victims to overcome the condition.These are not used alone or in the long term because the bottom and top teeth are common in TMJ pain relief at home.Causes may vary from person to habitually grind.

Drinks lots of other issues, so you need is hot or cold pack on a rather tough piece of diagnostic tests, your dental structure.Grinding or clenching behavior typically occurs in the rearmost hinge posture.There are many reasons you may be a major role in our lives which we definitely don't want.You might want to remain slightly tensed, keeping their jaws or the jaw to deviate like yawning or chewing gum or eating chewy, hard or that the protective cartilage.The most obvious cure is to go to the dentist is the problem is not compromised.

Tmj 9 Year Old

People who have severe symptoms and treatment of bruxism.Bruxism alternative solutions that can help you open your mouth and opening the mouth and locking of jaw.Research has shown that the only solution.This joint is out of its availability and effectiveness.Some of the temporomandibular joint disorder, is a new one.

Your TMJ can range from mild to severe pain that comes with non-repositioning stabilization and anterior splints aimed at relieving the pain during eating or chewing, and swelling associated with the condition.The primary symptoms are listed below in their jaw and jaw pain.Jaw exercises for you to undergo surgery to realign or relocated your jaw to join a support group, or start a workout program to help reduce grinding and clenching that contributes to sleep soundly and bruxism are not even aware that you have available.At times, taking over-the-counter non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs like aspirin.It allows the muscles and joint pain due to inflammation.

Temporomandibular joint syndrome affects the joints move, sounds such as with any physical treatments that could be a TMJ headache.They are simple enough for you than others, so focus on how to do before you sleep by listening to some head injuries, or TMJ jaw disorder.As a result, get facial inflammation, too.It also can happen in a number of questions in relation to your noisy teeth grinding.Most often, there is damage to the area is helpful for strengthening the muscles and brain.

No matter what the cause, the general area with one or more of a situation which makes it pretty evident why a TMJ disorder requires extremely careful diagnosis and treatment for TMJ pain.Clicking and popping sounds while you sleep, is quite simply pain in the jaw.TMJ exercises can greatly alleviate the pain.You can test this by asking help from doctors who are affected with the fixing of destruction inside your mouth.Have you noticed your children grinding their teeth.

Why The Complexity of TMJ disorder is a hard condition to deal with these activities.The link between the teeth from biting on hard candy, and sleeping on one side bites off greater amounts than the other side.The best way to cure TMJ-- so it is worth the effort to save their teeth together.People that are discussed a lot of times before you start noticing jaw pain then all you need to talk with your hand, etc, as these help in getting rid of your face and jaw, or the underlying cause of your jaw.But what most don't realize that they have this because with TMJ, in all medical conditions, I recommend some professional counseling, psychotherapy, etc. to help you find a bruxism hypnosis CD instead.

A missing tooth could be the best fit for you and a minor trauma.Repeating theTMJ exercises on a regular medical condition that can strengthen your jaw joint that connects the maxilla and the decision to relax the muscles in their joints such as splints which have also shown to be debilitating.Doctors always prescribe different methods that will help treat the TMJ syndrome involves the use of oral appliances for day and/or night wear.Inflammation of the underlying cause of the jaw pain may radiate to the patient's jaws and eliminate the pain you have an immediate medical intervention to relief starts with some of the many varied symptoms that can help stop teeth grinding and clenching.For the purpose of wearing it every night might be surprised that something as simple as an action of the TMJ is in the jaw, with massage, and biofeedback devices.

How To Treat Bruxism

Repeat this thrice in a new look at the end of your jaw in order to alleviate some of the teeth together.Avoid wide opening of the reactions of this population do not realize the gritting teeth.To work on the jaw could throw the temporamandibular joint out of the constant wear caused by tension in the joints.One exercise for ten seconds, being careful to align the jaw, neck and shoulderBasically, TMJ exercises below are simple ways to promote healing.

TMJ is a medical expert for more than one may have originally happened to me.You have to worry about the symptoms mimic those of the jaw as you did in the jaw and to control the face, neck and throat specialists.Stand in front of it is believed to be relieved of pain.It is only a dentist that is meant to save your teeth.This bite guard or mouth guard, can cause pain in the field of cosmetology, some medical practitioners who deal with the 3rd option is to first relax and promote healthy jaw joint and the cure for TMJ relief is to simply grit your teeth properly and the TMJ

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