#i literally created my own personal hell and then when i got close to people they would inevitably find their way down there

[starredforlife]

i feel the need to reassure also that im exaggerating my mistakes a bit but it's like. almost like an exposure therapy thing.

[winterarmyy]

Never Lie To Me

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: In which Y/N's sinful thoughts towards the Asset is reciprocated.

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x hydra agent!female!reader

Words: 3.4k++

Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, purely smut and lack of plot, honestly. messy writing and lack of dialogue, sorry for that. Others may include probably incorrect russian due to the use of google translate, marking kink (if you squint), metal hand kink, finger-fucking, clit spanking, unprotected sex, creampie, soldat doesn't talk much, i figured he is more reserved but that doesn't mean his actions are (*wink wink*) he is kinda rough but the reader highkey loves it, just bunch of horny pent-up mfs getting some action for once, y'know.

Inspiration: "Cause I can see you waiting down the hall for me and I can see you up against the wall with me." – I Can See You (From The Vault) by Taylor Swift.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N didn't understand why was she sent to this field mission. There were literally dozens of others that were much suitable to do it and yet they chose her of all people? Considering her much leisure job for the past months, which basically just to guard a lab, Hydra seemed to forgot that her body have been lack of combat practice.

She hated this. This mission. This organization. All of it.

Y/N was one of those kids that Hydra stole from the orphanages for their Phantom program; it is where they train, or accurately brainwash, the kids into highly skilled assassin. And she was one of the top 5 out of the program in her batch.

But after a certain incident in one of the mission in Peru, she was temporarily relocated to Siberia to, as they say, "recover" before they can assign get into another mission. There, she was given a much lenient task, which was to guard the lab where the Winter Soldiers were created.

Those few months was both heaven and hell for her; heaven was that she didn't need to be soaked in the blood of the innocent lives and hell was that she had to be a bystander to the cruelty of the dehumanizing process of the Winter Soldier program.

Sure, everything Hydra does to its "followers" are, by nature, imbrute. I mean, she was trained like a dog since she was but a child, but this. This was just another level of evil. Such vile and merciless thing to do to another human being. The muzzles that Hydra shoved in their mouth doesn't really help to reduce the excruciating noises that they made.

Though, while she was physically forced to witness the atrociousness, there was one constant thing that kept her mind off from it all.

They call him the Asset. In fact he was the first one. But she'd rather think of him simply as a man sleeping in a cryo chamber.

Y/N had heard of this "monster", the rumours were terrible as they come and go, but she find it hard to believe that when the soldat had such a calm and kind expression on his face, even if his features were frozen in ice. That was her first impression of him; then day by day, and what felt like ages, she watched him.

Her curiosity got the best of her when she started to think of scenarios and possibilities that the man had quickly became her escape from the horrid reality around her.

Though she spend most of her time trying not to feel it, but the other times, well... the thoughts went a little wild. At one point, they got too personal even for her own mind to comprehend.

After a month of reporting at the new post, she heard the whispers of "thawing the asset" from other agents and scientists around the lab. And surely enough, one of those day, the soldat was brought back from his slumber.

It didn't cross her mind before, of what color laid behind those closed lids. But when she saw his eyes for the first time, she was in complete awe. They were blue as the vast ocean she once jet-skied over; but they were as cold like when she stepped foot at this snow covered facility.

The contrast of his dark hair and tanned skin only makes his bright eyes to become the most prominent feature on his face. And Y/N just couldn't tear her gaze away, especially when the Hydra agent that supposed to retrieve him was making such a big fuss over how slow the soldat was reacting to their commands.

What do they expect? He was literally frozen for lord knows how long just a few seconds ago. Everything must be dissociating for him. So of course, the man's mind and body needs time to adjust.

The soldat abruptly fell on his knees after exiting the chamber, causing one of the guards to strike a kick across his face, "вставай, паршивая собака! (Get up, you lousy dog!)"

And that was it, Y/N had enough of it, "Hey!" she shouted as her stomped towards the guards. The duo quickly stood straight and showed their respect to her; knowing that those who graduated from Phantom program has higher ranking than them.

The moment Y/N found her footing in front of him, the palm of her hand landed harshly across his face, "Do you realized what you just did?" She asked as the taller regained to his prior composure.

"That man!" She pointed at the soldat who was obediently sitting on the floor, "Is Hydra's most prized asset. He alone is worth thousands of you useless scumbags. And you had the audacity to lay your hands on him?!" She roared and the lab fell into silent.

The two guards can only bite on their own tongue knowing what she said was true. The soldat was in fact the Hydra's precious weapon, as for now that he was the only one who successfully weilded the super soldier serum in his veins.

Y/N walked around and stood in front of the soldat, "Are you hurt, soldat?" she asked as her gaze fell on him. His head was hanging low as he bored his empty eyes into the shine of Y/N's black boots; he shook his head and replied, "No, ma'am"

She knew he was lying, especially when she saw the drips of blood on his pants, "Look at me." She ordered in which the soldat complied. And there it was, the source of the mess, the red cut on the corner of his lips. Her frown only deepened when the bruises were slowly forming on his cheek bones.

Y/N crouched to his level, as her hand reaching for his cheeks. His body halted and stiffened when she approached, but only to be surprised by the soft carress of her fingers on his face, "If you're not injured, then what's this?" She whispered lowly; a tone where just the two of them can hear.

The soldat's empty eyes almost melt in hers; he never saw her before, who is she? Why was there so much kindness in her eyes? And why was she holding him so gently?

He let her careful thumb wiped the blood from his chin before whispered again, "Never lie to me, soldat. Do you understand?"  The soldat obediently nodded as a spiral of indescribable emotions stirred within him. His eyes lingered at the way her lips formed into a soft smile, "Good." She praised.

Since then, the soldat's gaze had remain on her almost all the time. From the moment she threatened the two guards, to the time she looked away from the tortured candidates of the Winter Soldier program, to this very second as she undresses every part of her suit.

Though the mission was a success however, their plane was utterly wrecked by an unforeseen mini gun. So they were forced to walk through the snow storm and find shelter at one of Hydra's safe house.

It was not rare for the soldat to be paired with other agents on a mission but never with a woman. Much less the pretty little bunny that he had been obsessing over. Ever since that incident, the soldat often think of her. And he really tried too keep everything professional but something within him changed lately.

One particularly distinct moment that he experienced that made it clear to him; it was when he was waiting in the hall for his handlers to drag him around the facilities, and she happen to walk towards him from the opposite side. And when he brushed pass her, he noticed how his hands was itching to grab her by the neck and push her up against the wall.

As if there was this strong urge to claim her, mark her, fuck her. That was when he realized. The soldat wanted her. He wanted ruin her for everyone else. He wanted her to be his. But, he knew they keep watchful eyes on him. On both of them. And he can't risk that.

But now that she was standing right in front of him, in her underwear no less, how was he supposed to control himself?

Y/N turned her attention towards the soldat, he stood absolutely still that she almost thought he was literally frozen, "Why are you not stripping? Even with that super soldier serum in you, I doubt that you don't feel cold from those snow-soaked clothes."

Maybe it was the dim-lit room, but she swore that the soldat eyes darkened when she walk towards him. Especially when his eyes ranked the way her wet undergarments stick onto her skin.

How many times did she fantasize about the way he was looking at her. How many times did she made herself cum from the thoughts on grinding her cunt into his metal fingers.

Too many to count.

Especially when, in her head, she could see him in his suit with his knives, she could see him throwing his black mask on the floor, she could see him bending her over to his will, she could see him make her want him, crave him, need him.

And whenever their eyes met, she often think of the what-ifs between them. Like, what would he do if she went to touch him now? What would he do if Hydra never found them out? What would he do if they never made a sound?

What would he think if she made him her own personal addiction? Then will he entertain her fantasies by making her his own secret mission?

"Remember what I told you, soldat?" She asked as her hands reached for his mask.

Without hesitation, the soldat replied, "Never lie to you." as his face was bare for her to see.

Y/N took a step forward, so close that he could almost feel her skin on him, "Now tell me, what do you want?" Her eyes found his diluted ones as he lifted his gaze from her cleavage to meet hers.

His cock was rather truthful even from the beginning; now more than before when it twitched painfully in the confinement of his pants. The soldat hissed to the feel of it before he confessed, "I want you."

Y/N couldn't help but to smile, "Then, have me, soldat."

That was all he needed to hear. Her permission to have her, to own her. Then, very next second, he had her body pinned firmly against the wall, his lips on her soft ones, his wet tongue exploring in her mouth.

The soldat had his metal hand gripping the back of her neck, not wanting that pretty head of hers to hit the wall; while the other hand unabashedly teared the bra off from her body.

Breaking the kiss, the soldat's lustful gaze watched how her breasts became bare for him. So pretty and perky. His cock twitched madly as if it was ordering him to touch them, suck on them. And he did just that.

The soldat took her right nipple into his hot mouth while his free hand pawed on the other. Y/N moaned lewdly at roughness of his hand and mouth. When she threw her head back, that was when she saw it. At the corner of the room, she noticed a CCTV camera directly situated towards their direction

She grabbed a handful of his long hair, and lightly tugged him back but he refused to stop sucking on her. Y/N huffed when she whispered, "They're watching us."

That was when the soldat quickly released her from his mouth and quickly hovered his huge body over her, he growled possessively as his quick eyes scanned for all the nearby camera.

Y/N chuckled amusingly at his reaction, "Do you not like it when they watch us?" She teased. The soldat growled again as he pulled her closer, her nipples perked even more now that they touched the cold fabric of his clothes, "Mine. Mine alone." He declared.

Y/N looked up at him with a pair of seductive eyes, "Then, what are you going to do about it?" She taunted. The soldat swiftly pulled his knives out from his thigh strap and threw it directly at the lens of each camera in the room. Now no one would have a chance witness her divine body, or see what her face looks like when he make her cum.

There weren't much of intelligible words that came out of his mouth after that, besides the grumble noises of the word "mine".

The soldat latched her mouth onto her skin, particulary around her neck, collarbone and the valley of her breast. He kissed and licked and sucked to leave his mark on her as his metal hand dug into her hips.

Meanwhile, the flesh of his right hand slide right into her panties. He fingers trailed the outer slit of her cunt; as if he was purposely teasing her, "Зайка (bunny)" he groaned against her neck when he felt how wet she was. She squirmed needily under his hand, when his middle finger poked her entrance while his thumb grazed across her clit.

"So wet, all for me?" He purred as his finger slowly dug into her hole. Y/N whined and grabbed his wrist before he could go any further, "Want your metal fingers, soldat." she slurred deliriously; already drunk with his touches.

It took all his might to not fuck her right there and then when she let him have her. The soldat wanted to treat her gently, prepare her sweetly. Now that she had confessed such sinful desire, something in him just snapped.

He pulled his hand out, and effortlessly ripped her panties from her body before lifting one of her legs up, pushing her thighs towards her body. She yelped at the sudden roughness, embarrassment crept across her spine when the soldat licked his lips at the sight of her cunt, wide open for him.

"Want my metal fingers huh,  Зайка (bunny)?" He trailed his metal fingers along her wet hole, "You got it." He abruptly shoved two of his digits into her, causing her to let out a loud gasp at the sudden intrusion.

The soldat didn't give her time to adjust, he simply pulled his fingers out to the very tip and thrust it back into her. And he does it again, and again and again. Until the pain turn into sheer pleasure.

When her eyes rolled back and shut close, the soldat growled disapprovingly, "No. Don't close your eyes. Look. Look down. Watch how your wet little hole take my metal fingers. That's it. Look at you. Fuck. Look. At. You." His pace didn't lose its rhythm when he fucked his fingers hard and fast; he curled them just right every time he hit that deep spot inside her.

His metal fingers was better that she had ever imagine, and the sight that she was looking at was so lewd that she was already so overstimulated from it, then when his thumb circled her clit, she thought she was seeing actual stars.

Streams of fluid was squelching everytime he shoved his fingers knuckles deep into her, that it trickled down his hand. It was so messy and the soldat loves it. He want her to be this messy all the time. He wanted to clean her up with his tongue. Lick every drip of her sweet fluid, swollow it like he was thristy and she was water.

At the this point, he would be willing to stay on his knees if it means that he get to have her cunt on his mouth always.

The soldat growled at the way she moaned so shamelessly at how harsh his fingers was violating her sweet pussy. He kept on rubbing on her clit and watched her body shuddered when he slap on it. Seeing her reaction, he continued to spank her clit and he fucked her harder; one, two, three, four, until she cried out a long moan and her pussy gushed with her creamy cum.

And seeing how her body trembled, her cream dripping out onto his hand, the soldat almost combust in his pants. Though apart of him wanted to feel her sweaty skin on his own, another just wanted to feel her warm pussy.

So, instead of wasting more of his time undressing himself, the soldat hurriedly unzipped his pants to release his aching cock out. He pulled his finger out and licked her cum clean while his other hand lazily pumped his leaking length, "Taste so good, Зайка (bunny). Bet you feel good too."

Y/N whined at his action, he looked so hot and bothered. And something about him fully clothed while pumping his needy cock for her; it just drives her to near feral. She let out an exasperated gasp when the soldat maneuvered her legs to cling around his waist, while his hand gripped on her hips. Her voice then stuck on her throat when he thrust his cock deep inside in one stroke.

His size was stretching her out so much that it burned, a good type of burn; in fact, the best type. The soldat on the other hand almost burst his cum the moment he entered her. She felt so good. Better that his rough hands when he jerked off to the though of her. But he was determined to make her cum on his dick before he get his own high.

So without letting her adjust to his size, he slowly pulled out and harshly slammed right back into her; fuck does it feel so good. And her mewling so needily for him does not help the situation at all. He repeated the same thing over and over until he managed to suck up his need to cum, then fasten his pace. And the sound of her wetness rubbing against his cock when he pounded into her was so damned and sinful, that never wanted to forget.

Her back repeatedly hit the wall from the force of his thrust that she needed to hold on his shoulders for support. His pace was fast and deep, almost erratic. Her moans broken when she felt the tip of her cock ramming at her womb, her walls clenching in delight to welcome such huge and hot length inside her. Every stroke was perfect and if she had no self-control she would be cumming each time the soldat forced his cock into her.

His hips slapped against her and she eagerly followed his every thrust, desperate to meet his skin as much as he was for her. And when she looked up to him, the soldat was looking directly into her. His ocean blues dove into her soul as his grunts tangled with her cries.

His breathing stuttered and his pace flatter. She could tell he was getting close. But, the soldat refused to; not until she cum first.

In and out. In and out. His pace became brutally delicious. Her nerves were stretching so good that her toes curled and that was when she felt the coil forming. Short needy pants left her lips, each one was a sign that she was getting closer to ecstacy, "I'm cumming, soldat. Please,, don't stop."

The soldat groaned, "Don't hold back." He pounded into her impossibly harder; and the delicious drag of his cock continued to punish her into pure ecstasy, forcing her cum to leak out and lather around his throbbing length, "That’s it, Cum for me, Зайка (bunny). Cum for your soldat,, ahh fuck so tight, i'm cumming too, ahh." The soldat chased his own release as continued to thrust inside her clenching hole.

"Fuckkkk i'm cumming inside you, Зайка (bunny). Will mark you mine with my cum. Ahhh ahhh fuckk", the soldat moaned to the addictive feel of her cunt milking him, and soon after when it hits him, his cock throbbed wildly as his cream leaked from the tip, endlessly filling her womb full with his warm cum.

Y/N whined to the amount of warm fluid spreading inside her. And when she thought his slowed thrust was a sign of an end, she couldn't be wrong. The soldat slowly pulled his cock out to the very tip, just pound it back into her. He groaned at the sight of his creamy cum spilling out, circling where his cock was stuffing her. Then he does it again, and again.

Until she started to moan for him, "hmmm,, s-soldat?" She hoped that he would explain himself.

His dark eyes only glint with lust and greed when a small smiled curved on his lips, "Oh, Зайка (bunny), I'm not done with you until I mark every part of you as mine."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: This scene has been played out in my head the whole day when Speak Now (TV) came out. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this short read! Drop some thought behind for me would you?

[polyamorouspunk]

I've got a bunch of sex ed stuff I'm just gonna toss into one ask have fun reading my essay

This may seem obvious to some people but definitely isn't to everyone, you can tap out of sex literally whenever. It doesn't matter if you or your partner are close to finishing, if you're uncomfortable and want to stop, you should be within your right to stop and be able to exercise that right.

Safewords can be used for completely vanilla sexual activity as well. Safe actions are similarly available to use for completely vanilla sexual activity. They aren't reserved for super kinky CNC play and BDSM, if you find that they would be useful for you...then use them!

More lube is better than too little lube. This applies to PIV, anal, scissoring, fingering, jacking someone off, tit fucking, thigh fucking, anything under the sun. You will prefer a messy clean up than a chafed body.

For kinky play this is important but for first timers and inexperienced people as well it's incredibly important for the people involved to do check-ins. See how everyone is feeling, see if anything needs to shift. This doesn't have to ruin the flow of the mood, a simple "does that feel good?" Can be a check-in if your partner agrees.

Take everything slow. It is your body. It is your genitalia. Your most sensitive zones. Take it slow. Take it easy. Take it at your own pace. If someone tries to rush you along and it's not something you both agreed would be hot to do then stop that encounter immediately.

For free-use kinksters or people with very grabby partners: you might want a non-verbal visual signal on whether or not you're safe to just grab and use. Me and my boyfriend have a bracelet I wear when I'm not in the mood to be played with. The opposite choice of a piece of jewelry that says you can be played with is also an option.

If you're physically disabled, work with your partner to find positions and techniques that work for you both without causing pain (or much pain). Sort out what to do afterwards to help you relax and heal from whatever pain is caused.

Aftercare is always important. Always. No matter what sexual activity happened. Check in with your partner, ask if it was good, if one person is more aware and physically able, get water and maybe snacks for both parties, clean up together, cuddle afterwards, that sort of stuff. It's very important to connect with your partner afterwards and make sure the sex was good for both of you, to make sure if it wasn't that something can be apologized for or fixed in the future.

Communicating your wants and needs is embarrassing but it's so important. Telling your partner what you want them to do is hot as hell and highly recommended so that both parties know what they're doing during the sexual encounter.

For the inexperienced, asking your partner to teach you how to pleasure them can also be incredibly hot (altho this may be my personal kinks creating a bias). If both you and your partner want to fuck each other, it's good to learn how you each best get off! What places to touch, what places to not touch, how to touch, what to say or not say, all sorts of things.

THIS! ALL OF THIS!

I love the attitude and tone taken in this ask. Thank you so much.

[whywoulditho]

I'm glad, that DC writers are changing constantly and therefore the characters are protected from the Bat-family. The Bats are the cancer of DC comics. There wouln't be any independant characters anymore if they could gez their grubby hands on the other DC families

That's another way to look at it.. I agree that they're trying a bit too hard to connect every character to the bats' storyline. so you might have a point there. maybe it would create more bad than good if they let batfam authors interfere with the other storylines... but i still wouldn't call the bats the cancer of DC. I think if you took the bats out of DC, it would lose like half of its charm and quality.

with all that being said though, i still think the biggest problem of DC romances (or comic book romance in general) lies in each run having separate authors. think about why harley x ivy worked. it's because both of those characters already existed before they got together. both of them were loved villains and later anti-heroes, they both have their own story, their own past and their own redemption arcs. they're both INTERESTING. and when DC made the risky choice of making them a couple, it worked.

i'm not saying it would work with any other characters, or that they should make all their major characters date each other. but if you want to explore romance in your comics you have to give the readers an actual relationship, involving two realistically written and interesting people. not a major character and their accessory love interest. that's my issue with tim x bernard, or jon x jay. no one will get attached to, or even invested in, these relationships because we don't know anything about the love interests. they're just some random people. even if you try to give them personalities they will still not have a story outside of their relationship with the major character. bernard and jay were only created so tim and jon would have someone to kiss. it's hard to care about them, and therefore their relationship. they're just boring romance side plots.

you can introduce a character with the sole purpose of making them a couple with one of your major characters and still make it work, like batman and catwoman. you can create chemistry with a new character just as well as you can with already existing ones. but i think we need more of the first option. less last minute love interests and more people falling in love. i think what makes DC special is that they show us so many different versions of their major characters, we get to see them grow and change (take notes, marvel) so it wouldn't be off-brand to see already existing major characters, like superboy and robin, ending up together. not when it's DC. to be honest i think it would be like super iconic of them to do that. and i also think that DC fans would much rather have their favorite characters end up with the kind of person they went through hell and back with instead of like, a random citizen. tim and kon have so many parallels. they're both people who didn't have to be heroes at all, but still chose to do it. they both struggle with carrying a mantle too big and the fact that they were not chosen for it makes them even more insecure. they also have a past together, they're close friends, they would take a bullet for each other. so much potential. dont even get me started on damian and jon. those two are like, literal mirrors of their fathers. they have huge legacies on their shoulders and they're like quite literally the only people that could understand one another. again, so. much. potential. i'm not saying they have to be together, but if DC was gonna write romance for these characters I wish it could have been with each other.

[bluedalahorse]

I think I’ll say this once, since I need to say it before I can move on to more excited posting about promos and things:

Obviously Young Royals means a lot to me. It’s become another way for me to connect with my hyphenated-American heritage and to start teaching myself Swedish again. It helped me survive a pretty brutal year of bullying at work. It made me confident enough to start the process of getting formally evaluated for autism and ADHD. I’ve been writing a 200k+ historical AU fanfic for YR—the kind of fic I always read and adored back in fandoms when I was younger, the kind of fic I wanted to write myself. I’m proud of the way that Heart and Homeland has made me a better writer, and I’m glad for the way it’s deepened my friendship with @heliza24. It is Young Royals in part that inspired by thesis on restorative justice in YA literature. When I was in the hospital last fall because I almost had a literal stroke from stress, I was comforted and kept calm by the fact that I was wearing a YR t-shirt and had a plush doll of a YR character sitting in my lap. And all of that is the short list.

As we come close to the release date, I hope that every single member of the fandom gets something they enjoy in the new season. I don’t think every person is going to get everything they want, but I genuinely hope there’s a moment, a scene, a line that brings them joy. We’ve all stuck with this series for a while, and I want us all to have something we can take with us. A little bit of sparkle for the road, if you will.

There’s of course the possibility that some of us get a lot of what we want, and others of us are let down. I know this was the case for season 2, and it feels naive to imagine that everyone in the fandom will be equally satisfied by season 3. I’ve got my fingers crossed that I’ll enjoy the hell out of it, but I’m also trying to prepare my heart in case it’s not what I wanted. I’m trying to gently talk to myself right now and say that even if the third season leaves me upset and unsatisfied—even if the writing takes a nosedive or it’s good writing but it’s just not what I wanted—that I still learned a lot about crafting stories and being myself and surviving hardship and thinking about systems and whatever else, from this show. That my experience with the first two seasons still matters, that my work on my fic is something to be proud of. If season 3 is a disappointment, Heart and Homeland will be my new canon. I’m sure there are other people out there talking themselves up in this way too. I know we’re all pushing through the pre-season jitters.

The other thing I’m trying to reconcile right now is how I feel about the promotional material that’s come out, and the conversations around that. Like on my own, I actually feel pretty great? It’s fun to see the new stuff come in? But then I think about the ratio of Wilmon to other things and some of the responses I’m seeing to that. And I see people say like “oh the show is back to focusing on what’s actually good about it” and “it’s great that they’re doing this because the audience doesn’t really care about characters who aren’t Wilmon.” And… hello? Aren’t I the audience? Tumblr isn’t too bad (most of the time) but then there’s like, Instagram, where the Netflix Nordic posted whole set of photos of different pairs and friendships from a whole bunch of shows, and there was one (1) picture of Sara and Rousseau and I saw enough comments where people were like “ew! Vomit! Give us Wilmon instead!” that like… y’all. Frida Argento is a human being and a damn good actress, and Lisa is a good writer of female characters, and like. We can celebrate that, once in a while. We can create space for her too. It’s not Frida OR Omar and Edvin. It’s Frida AND Omar AND Edvin AND Nikita AND Malte AND Nathalie AND Mimmi AND Fabian AND Samuel AND… look I could keep on listing but I’m going to get distracted if I do.

Like, man. I love Wilmon. Don’t get me wrong. I love the complexity their relationship can run with. There are lines heliza has written for them in fic that make me swoon and I am giddy about the part where I get to read them first. I love the glowsticks. I love Wilmon’s sense of humor and the part where they cheated at Vincent’s rowing race thing and their utmost commitment to being dumbass teenage boys against the world. The first week I saw the show and came into work (where we have an athletic field) I went and took a selfie on the field after covering my hands in those gross fake dots. Look. I am all in.

And also… I came to the show for Wilmon but I stayed for so much more. I would have watched Young Royals once or twice and said “that was pleasant” without ever getting back into fanfic after a decade away, if the show was only Wilmon. I do like Wilmon, but it wasn’t Wilmon who inspired my thesis on restorative justice or made me a better writer overall. I survived that year of bullying at work because I could come home and write my ensemble fanfic, especially the parts where I focused on the non-Wilmon pairing I was in charge of writing. I finally felt confident enough to be evaluated for AuDHD because of a connection I felt to a character who wasn’t Simon or Wilhelm. It was a plush doll of a non-Wilmon character who sat in my lap and kept me calm while I was hooked up to those scary machines in the hospital this past October.

I guess my one humble request is that people be thoughtful about how they use phrases like “everyone thinks” or “no one wants.” Not every member of the fandom has the same opinion, and not every member wants the same things out of season 3, and there are some of us who are happy about the new Wilmon content but who are still feeling a little hungry for more of our most beloved characters, and hope they’ll get meaningful storylines (and not get ignored) in season 3. I do know we probably won’t all get what we want, and that some of us will probably get more of what we want than others. I hope that whatever happens, we’ll all get something we want, and we can all be gracious about it, and continue to find meaning in the canon.

For the people here on tumblr who are already including me in their everyone… thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope you know who you are and I hope you know how much I appreciate you. And I do hope this Little Fandom That Could can keep going into all sorts of new creative places.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Beneath Miles of Stone - Part eleven - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

TW; this is just really gross fluff. Like I didn’t even think I was capable of this mushy stuff but this chapter was HONESTLY my favorite that I’ve written so far. Enjoy some soft John Wick ❤️ And thank you for reading.

Work is literal hell. Not just for her, but the patient’s, too.

To replicate the infirmary, the prison has attempted to create a pop up hospital on the main level.

Literal curtains attached to metal poles separate the sick inmates from the main, drafty entrance. Blankets upon blankets is not enough to keep these people warm. The upper and lower levels have been partially closed off, and to get anywhere you have to navigate yellow tape and maintenance and construction workers and use the stairs instead of the busted elevator. That would be okay if everything she needed for her patient’s was right at hand instead of four floors down locked in a dark storage room.

She’s thankful to have her job back, but after a night arguing with managers about the safety of the inmates, and running up and down stairs with supplies including oxygen tanks and water jugs, she’s exhausted, scared for these grown men’s lives, angry, and wondering whether or not she should call whoever owns the place and tell them it needs shut down and the prisoners need relocated.

Even the guards seem scrambled, fried, like they don’t know what to do in the midst of all the damage and chaos.

She’s been looking for Mike all night, and finally she sees him as he’s walking down the hall and picking up pieces of fallen plaster.

She’s so glad that he’s alive she almost hugs him.

“Hey darling,” he smiles, letting the broom and dustpan dangle at his side. He’s pale and sweaty and his overalls look loose, like he’s lost a lot of weight.

“Are you alright?” She asks.

He shakes his head. “Just getting over whatever the hell decided to mess my lungs up. Are you alright? I was asking around, trying to see if you were here that night and if you were okay, but no one could tell me a damn thing.”

“I was here,” she nods, “but I got out fine.”

“I knew there was a reason I was praying for God to send his best guardian angel to you,” Mike tells her, wiping sweat off his forehead. “You’re blessed. A lot of people died that night.” He looks away, down the hall behind her, sadness crinkling his sunken face.

She cringes, looks at the floor, remembering. No angels have ever been in this prison, and no God exists in this fucked up world.

Instead of saying any of that, she thanks him for the prayers and asks if there’s anything she can do to help him feel better.

“Just keep yourself grounded, kid. I was in Vietnam for a long time, and I know what seeing this kind of thing does to a younger person.” He motions at the blood stains on the concrete walls. “It either makes you hard, or makes you crazy.”

They both try sad smiles for the other’s benefit before parting ways.

She looks for Benny all night, too, almost hopeful that John bluffed. But the big man is not here, and no one says anything to indicate whether he’s alive or dead, so she assumes that she signed his death certificate herself.

When she makes it home, aching and yearning for a shower and a soft pillow, John is outside her apartment.

In any other circumstance, he would see her immediately, but right now he’s helping two elderly women that live on her level load something big into their trunk.

She watches the scene unfold, sees the way they thank him and hug him and kiss his cheek like he’s just saved children in an orphanage collapse, and realizes something about John Wick: Mike’s prayers for God to send her an angel were granted. Here he is, catching her eyes and smiling, her deadly guardian angel. She couldn’t see it before while her vision was clouded by spilled blood and instinctual fear, but he’s saved her life twice, subdued everyone he’s met into loving him, threw their trash away at the bar instead of just leaving it on the table for the waitress, and, if given the opportunity, she knows, without a doubt, he’d save a kitten from a tree and carry people out of a burning building and then go back in for more.

The cold, white sunlight illuminates his tawny eyes into a pit that she’s falling into and never climbing back out of and she can’t believe him hoisting something into a helpless senior citizen’s trunk was the final push.

She reaches where he stands leaning against his car, and he kisses her cheekbone in greeting, the fever of his skin instantly warming her freezing flesh. “Let me take you for breakfast?”

This sickly sweet exchange has her all messed up inside. She feels like her heart is a sleeping dragon hoarding her emotions in a pile and someone is tickling its nose with a feather and waking the beast up.

“I’m dirty,” she tells him, as if somehow that’s going to change his plans.

He cocks his head. “I can wait while you take a shower?”

Going to breakfast with a beautiful angel sounds lovely, but she doesn’t want him to smell her sweat and run the other way. “Sorry, I’m just gross right now.”

“I love dirt,” he teases. “Just come. They run out of the blueberry pancakes fast.”

She sighs, “fine, but if you smell me it’s not my fault.”

He eases her worries by pulling her into his nostrils and inhaling the skin of her neck.

She squeals with laughter, pushing to get his stubble off her ticklish skin as he nuzzles and sniffs.

“Hm.” He pulls away, thinking. “Smells wonderful so far. Maybe I should try again-“

“No!” She flails in his grip. “No john. don’t. Stop!”

He’s in the crook of her neck again, terrorizing poor nerves.

She hits on his chest, presses her neck down over his face to buck him off, giggles obscenely for everyone in the street to hear.

Her laughter is infectious, and she is beautiful.

“Apple shampoo?” He guesses, grinning down at her after ceasing cruel ministrations.

“Apple conditioner,” she corrects, glowering.

He leads her, by the waist, to his passenger door.

While he holds the door open for her, she rolls her eyes and curtsies. “Thank you, Mr. Wick.”

He growls, playful, reaching for her as she falls into his cab.

She’s giggling and then screeching, shocked as he chases her in and folds her against the driver’s door.

It’s cold in here, but the heater that he calls a body can’t be fully enjoyed without some chill involved anyway.

And she can’t find the audacity to be cold when he’s tickle attacking her.

Facial hair in the crease of her neck and fingers on her belly and ribs is a deadly combination when he combines it with his huge, agile, speedy hands.

“Oh-o-k-Kay I’m sss-sorr-y!”

He digs into her armpits and she screams, bucking her body so hard that she actually lifts him up a little bit. He’s impressed.

“Please.” “No.” “Fuck.” “Shit.” All broken, yelping words from her feral mouth until he stops without warning.

He kisses her gasping lips, and grins. Zero percent disheveled or tired from fighting her while she pants and squirms. “Such language.”

“What about blueberry pancakes?” She flexes away from his lethal fingers.

“You gonna stop being a heathen?” He asks, hoping the answer is no.

“I’ll try,” she promises, grimacing while she waits for impact.

He slides off of her, and they climb over one another - mostly just John moving both of them to their respectful places since she’s so wobbly - to trade places in the seat.

“Pancakes saved your ass,” he tells her, starting the car.

“Good ol’ pancakes,” she grins, “always there in my time of need.”

The restaraunt is a tiny diner on the corner of 3rd and Cross. It’s retro, metal and faded gold red upholstery, with flowers in glass vases adorning each booth.

She wastes no time in smelling the poinsettias when they take seats across from one another.

“Wow,” she says, “these are beautiful.”

“They’ve always had fresh flowers since I was young,” John explains, leaning close and taking a whiff. “You’ve never been?”

“I just moved here a little bit ago. City of opportunity. I think I’ve been to four restaurants and they’re all pizza places.”

“When did you move?” He asks.

She tells him, then adds: “When did you move from Russia?”

“I can’t exactly remember,” he says, “young, though.”

“What was your favorite place to go?”

“Internationally?” John clarifies.

She nods, toying with the edge of her napkin.

“New York. It’s my home.”

She’s jealous of that word. Such a foreign thing for her to think about, a home. But she’s happy that he has some place he loves.

It’s strange and sad, to meet someone more lost than he’s ever been. Even when he was young, he can’t remember a time when he didn’t have a place to sleep even if it was a cold wooden floor on a burlap sack, and he still has family here.

He grabs her hand, startling her with warm touch on her freezing fingers.

Neither one is used to it, even though they crave the foreign feeling of intimacy.

He rubs her palm with his thick thumb, pressure heavy and soothing.

White snow turns blue, pink, and orange sherbet as clouds curtain back to reveal a painted, fluffed candy sky.

They stare at each other, oblivious to the rainbow of color framing their embrace in front of the big window.

John hasn’t been scared in a long time, but he’s horrified by what his chest is doing while he looks at her face.

Vulnerability hangs in the flower scented air between them, and each one is afraid to cross its’ path.

Like a near extinct species meeting another one of its kind for the first time in a jungle filled with chaos, and, yet, still extraordinarily lonely.

The waitress sets menus on their table, pulling them from uncharted sea back into familiar rocking ocean.

“John,” Cindy greets, leaning down to embrace him.

“Cindy,” he replies, smiling, patting her shoulder and squeezing her back.

The older, plump woman chokes laughter and pulls out from his arm, dusting off imaginary lint from his jacket. She cracks her back and neck and rubs her shoulder. “See you haven’t lost your heavy hands?” She asks playfully. “Gotta be careful with us older people, though. We’re breakable.”

The faintest tint of pink colors his cheeks as he chuckles apologetically. “Sorry.”

“And who’s this?” Cindy asks, grinning down at her.

John introduces them, and Cindy pulls her into a warm hug. “Hi honey.”

Cindy turns her delighted smile on John. “Delo?”

“Udovol'stviye.”

Cindy claps her hands together, laughing in joy. “I’m going to get Bill. Hold on.” She starts to scurry away, but then turns around. “Oh, what do you want to drink?”

“Black coffee,” John says.

“Orange juice?” She says.

Cindy’s gone again.

He’s reminded by the side conversation she didn’t understand that there’s something on his mind he needs to ask her, because as much as he appreciates it, it’s starting to make him paranoid. “You haven’t asked a lot about what I..” he struggles to find the right words. “Do for work.”

“Do you want me to?” Her face is forgiving, non judgmental, although a little timid.

“No.” He hopes he doesn’t upset her with the blunt answer.

“I figured.” She’s a little disappointed, but only because she wants to know if he’s safe while on the job. And also because people that don’t reveal a lot about themselves tend to just disappear without explanation.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

She waves his apology away. “You don’t really know what I do for work either.”

“Hmm.” He leans back, man spreading and dwarfing the booth. His knees knock hers and she laughs nervously, shying away. “Nurses. Hurt people to make them feel better.”

She cringes. “I never thought of it that way.”

“You give people shots, dress wounds-“ he refers to himself “-fix plumbing, cover for maintenance, open packages, argue with stupid doctors, make older ladies adore you, hold people’s hands. This list goes on. Am I close?”

She laughs. “You’re forgetting one huge part.”

He motions for her to tell him about it.

“We wipe a lot of ass.”

His head falls into his hands, and he shakes with heavy laughter. “Jesus,” he says.

“What?” She teases. “Tough guy embarrassed by ass wiping? But not ass whipping? It’s two letters.”

His laugh gets harder, now with added groaning at her embarrassing admission in the nearly empty but still occupied diner. Full of surprises. He peaks at her through his hands. “Just how you say it.”

She shrugs. “Nature of the beast.”

He puts his chin in his hand. “What’s your dream job? Surely not that?”

She tells him, then asks the same question.

“Librarian,” John replies.

She actually does laugh at him this time because she thinks he’s joking. He joins her laughter.

“Yeah?” She asks.

He opens his arms wide as if to embrace the career choice. “Yeah.”

Why is it so strangely hot to imagine him as a strict librarian working late nights at her local book dealer? There’s more to that fantasy, and it involves her getting lost in the maze of massive shelves right before the library closes and then sexy suited librarian finding her and deciding to punish her for her carelessness - but getting horny in a restaurant is not convenient.

And Cindy’s back with Bill, who also gives them both big hugs.

“Jesus John,” he says, “you swallow more iron every day?”

“That’s what I told him!” Cindy cries, elbowing her husband.

“Bill,” John nods.

Cindy sets their drinks down in front of them. “I was just asking about you the other day,” she tells John. “You haven’t been on one of your long trips for a while.”

John sips his scalding coffee and listens to Cindy talk, occasionally nodding and agreeing with the banter between her and Bill.

She drinks her orange juice and listens to the conversation about Cindy almost getting mugged on 23rd.

“And I said, if John was here those punks would have been sorry.” Cindy puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head, then looks at her.

“He’s always been my little - “ Cindy looks back at John “ - big guard dog. Anybody comes in her looking for trouble, he’s got us covered.”

She smirks over at John, who’s trying to act like he’s not blushing again. He narrows his eyebrows at her cheeky expression in a challenging warning at that says ‘comment on these pink cheeks, and you’re fucked.’

Her eyes shy away from his own as she drinks more tangy juice.

“Oh my god, Bill, he’s laying the charm on this poor girl,” Cindy whispers in her husband’s ear.

Bill glares at Cindy. “They can hear you,” he says.

Cindy pats John’s upper arm, quelling his elevated embarrassment.

“You take it easy on her, Johnny,” Cindy says. “She’s a sweet girl.”

She peaks up at John over the rim of her glass and he is adorable enough that it makes her forget some of her own shyness.

“Remember when you chased that drunk guy down the street with a coffee cup?” Bill asks, changing the subject. “Guy was so scared he pissed his pants before you threw it and gave him a concussion.”

Cindy laughs, addressing her again. “He did it because the guy grabbed me up for us being out of pie. I mean, how can I help it if we’re out?”

“You make the pie,” Bill tells Cindy, deadpan.

“That’s besides the point,” Cindy scoffs. “Tall, Lanky, growing John steps right in and grabs this guy’s shirt collar and drags him off me. Guy gets up, tries to grab a coffee mug for nefarious reasons, but John grabs it first, looks at it, looks back at the guy, and just goes right for him.”

Bill and John chuckle.

“And after he’s done knocking this guy out with a coffee cup, he comes back in and asks Cindy if she’s alright and she fell in love with the little demon,” Bill says. “Called him her adopted son.”

“And gave him free pancakes for life,” Cindy added.  “How many do you want, by the way?” She winks at John. “Fresh blueberries.”

They place their orders, and Cindy and Bill leave them to cook and check on other customers.

“They’re so sweet,” she tells John.

John orders a literal stack of pancakes and eats them all like he’s been starving for weeks. He also eats half her big plate of bacon, eggs, and cheesy hashbrowns when she gets full.

She wonders if the wild wolves in Russia taught him how to eat every calorie you can in one sitting and then go days without, because she’s honestly never seen him eat this much or at all. She’s jealous of him, again, for being able to stay lean and bulky even after meals like this. She contemplates asking him to switch metabolisms, watching while he drinks down a cold glass of water and looks at her from the rim of his glass.

“You work tonight?” He asks.

“Twelve hours,” she groans.

“Let me give you a ride in the morning?” He asks. “I’ll pick you up in the alley across the street.”

“Well, that’s not shady,” she jokes.

“Not at all,” he agrees.

Before they leave, he tucks a casual one hundred dollar bill under their neatly stacked dishes and then hugs part of his chosen family goodbye.

“Easy, easy,” Bill laughs, being dramatic while John squeezes him. “Jesus.”

Bill and Cindy pull her in for a hug, too, and Cindy kisses her cheek. “You come back,” the sugar-smelling woman tells her, holding her shoulders. Her heart swells as she tries really hard not to cry in front of them. This whole time in New York and she thought everyone was a soulless robot, but John’s people are just the opposite of that, and she’s grateful to meet them.

She only has time to say thanks before John is escorting her out into the bearable flurry of snowflakes.

When they get into the car, she raises her eyebrows at him and smiles like he’s the most precious thing she’s ever seen. He glances away, avoiding her adoration. “Thought you got free pancakes for life?” She ribs.

He shrugs. “It was a tip.”

She’s extremely reluctant to let Mr. Wonderful himself go about his day as they pull out front of her apartment.

They stare at each other for a minute, before John talks. “Can I pick you up tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” she says, the word partially muffled by his mouth while he plucks at her top lip.

He takes his kiss back and she whines involuntarily, eyes still closed and mouth open expectantly.

He opens her door, walks her to the entrance of her complex, and lays a chaste kiss to her forehead. “Go to sleep,” he says. “See you in the morning.”

[blenselche]

Why do you ship finn/fern? I want to know what you see in it. You don't have to answer if you don't want to, I think rare ships and why people like them are interesting.

how can i not when the show literally

ok but forreal, this is long so I'm throwing it under a cut, my fern brainworm really got away from me here...

Finn and Fern's story at its most bare bones is: someone incredibly damaged by abandonment is torn in half and those halves abandon each other. Fern does it literally, Finn more so emotionally. Only when it's too late does one half try to rectify the situation, showing unending patience and unconditional love and being met with vitriol and avoidance. And then... acceptance, and with that acceptance is the ultimate abandonment: death. Tragic, hurts just right. Add onto that-- their relationship references The Green Knight and the Narcissus Myth. The Narcissus myth comes through loudly in CAWM especially. My fav of Ovid's Metamorphoses and all Greek mythology, so that's def a factor. My dad said I cried when he read it to me for the first time lmao.

I don't ship them during/in canon. In canon all I can see is something nebulous and one sided, and we don't need to read into subtext for that, we can just appreciate the show as it's written: Finn helps create this person that 100% gets him after being the odd one out his whole life, Fern's existence even soothes his abandonment issues with a curse that binds them together forever, but he clings too close and doesn't give Fern space, reminding him of how he falls short. Ultimately this want to be "even closer" (very smooth, Finn) is what drives them apart. It's good where it is, it's a great starting point for shipping.

Where I ship them is past canon, blowing subtext up into large print font to pull Fern out of plot device hell into his own character, piggy backing off what we know about the grass demon.

The grass demon/blade was not made to serve the powers of good, but it actively changes/curbs its behavior for the approval of its hero wielder. It helps Finn with anything that deeply emotionally moves him (holding on to Martin, building the tower) keeps him out of unneeded conflict (refusing to attack the vamp king) helps impress his romantic interest (flute spell) it even reverses his arm nullification twice. The grass demon keeps him safe but it goes above and beyond its purpose for Finn's happiness. It reluctantly joins the fight against Bandit Princess because that sword is still Finn, and when its blade pierces/breaks the quillion it even cocoons the Finn Sword's essence safely away. Though, no matter how much good it might do it is still a demon. It has no morals, and doesn't understand them, all it cares about is Finn's safety and well being. When one of Finn's loved ones hurts him it doesn't hesitate to protect him, but (of course) Finn retaliates-- and so it creates a Finn of its own, one that won't hurt it for trying to keep him safe and happy. (OOPS! that backfired.) I love the grass demon, I love what we can glean about it because of its actions through the show and what that could mean for Fern and Fern's feelings surrounding Finn. This is the foundations of the ship to me.

I like to ship them when Fern remembers all of this/what he is (a demon that basically consumed half of Finn's soul), has accepted himself and has integrated his two ego states. We don't need to do any legwork on Finn's end. Dude's already weird enough about Fern canonically, but I do like to build his guilt up until he's a mess on the floor, crying over his past mistake of assuming Fern needed saving in the first place (the thing that leads Finn to ignorantly prompting/assisting in his suicide), haunted by the words of Fern's time echo from the The Beginning of The End comic, never truly being able to trust if he's actually helping someone again.

I like to play in that space of au/hc: a demon and the man he's bound to/he shares a soul with who loves him unconditionally, reunited somehow (a wish, diverging from canon, Penelope and Fern's next incarnation finding one another, etc) and coming to terms with the baggage of all the shit they inflicted on one another. Then maybe Fern can finally hear Finn out without the cloud of festering insecurity when he tells him again how he'd still like to be "even closer".

At its simplest I like finn/fern because I love Fern, and finally accepting and seeing Finn as a completely different person (enough to engage in a relationship, whether sexual/romantic/queer platonic/something that no label fits because of what they are, whatever) speaks to an ultimate form of self actualization, and Fern really deserves to feel that level of "himself" imo.

Hope that was adequately interesting.

[mylittlesecrethaven]

Idia's Signature Spell Is So.... Meh....

Dude, Idia's signature spell is LITERALLY JUST A FUCKING KEY!

It lets him open a fucking door in S.T.Y.X. headquarters.

WTF?!

Everyone else has really (some of then) fucking cool signature spell, and he just got the short end of the stick.

Fucking hell.

ANYWAY!

If you're curious, Ima list out the characters and their signature spells! (Don't worry, I'll link the post I got this info from here.)

Riddle - Off With Your Head - He basically puts a heart collar on someone and they can't use magic. Only he can take it off.

Trey - Paint The Roses - He can overlay an item's sensory characteristic with another characteristic of his choosing. Can sometimes work on magic, but it's not easy.

Ace - The asshole doesn't have one.

Deuce - Double Down - You hit him, he stores up the energy and hits back twice as hard. (Only with magic though) He has to reach a minimum to be able to use it though.

Cater - Split Card - He can split himself into multiples of himself. The more clones, the harder it is to do.

Leona - King's Roar - He can turn anything he touches into sand, even people. He has to do a chant though.

Ruggie - Laugh With Me - He can control a person by having them copy his movements. The more people, the harder it is, naturally.

Jack - Unleash The Beast (what are you, fucking Hulk?) - He can turn into a wolf. That's it.

Azul - It's A Deal - He can technically just take someone's magical ability, but that can cause harm and fast blot accumulation. To compensate, he creates a contract that could potentially take the signers ability depending on the terms of the contract.

Jade - Shock The Heart - He can force a person to truthfully answer any question he asks. However, they have to look directly into his left eye, they can't be too trusting or have strong mindsets or be very loyal, and it only works on the person once. (Kinda a shit ability to have that many requirements when compared to the fucking mind control abilities that don't need anything)

Floyd - Bind The Heart - He basically makes a force field (not really) around him that deflects magic attacks, making the magic attack miss him. Much simpler and better than whatever the fuck Jade's is, I swear.

Kalim - Oasis Maker - He can make it rain fresh water. Has to do a little chant though. (Some of these abilities, I fucking swear)

Jamil - Snake Charmer - He can hypnotize multiple people to do his bidding. Too many and he accumulates a ton of blot, and I think they have to look in his eyes? (Maybe. But also, why is controlling people easier than making them truthfully answer a question?! Wtf?!)

Vil - Fairest One Of All - He can put a curse on whatever he touches with whatever conditions he wants. He can't lift the curse at all, though, and I think he can be affected by his own curses (maybe), and I believe he can put a condition that gives the curse a time limit? (There's a lot of maybes on his. Sorry)

Rook - I See You (what a terrifying name holy fuck) (My bad, the ENG name is Arrow Afar. Idk wtf is up with JPN tho) - He can mark someone with his magic and track them. However, if they end up somewhere with magic blockers, he can't track them (obviously).

Epel - Sleep Kiss (The ability is too cool for that shit name) (Nevermind, the ENG name is Crimson Slumber which is much cooler) - He can make a glass coffin around someone that forces them to sleep inside. It also protects the sleeper, so it's either a defense for them, or a prison to keep them contained.

Idia - Gate To Underworld - He can open and close a fucking door.

Ortho - Poor little guy doesn't have magic.

(Ok, these below I'm not too certain on, so some of them may be wrong)

Malleus - Fae Of Maleficent (right on the nose) - He can make anyone near him fall asleep. (No more sleeping problems for Yuu)

Lilia - Far Cry Cradle - He can see fragments of memories attached to items or people he touches. (Silver could never keep a secret from this man)

Silver - Meet In A Dream - He can enter people's dreams. Very simple.

Sebek - Living Bolt - I'm not too sure about this one, but he either uses very strong lightning magic or actually turn into lightning. (Crocodile lightning.... pfft)

So yeah. that's pretty much it.

Some of these abilities are kinda shit. (Jade, Idia)

But the rest are cool I guess.

[punkpandapatrixk]

The Kind of Sad You Can’t Understand

Certain days I feel very deeply that I want to cry but I don’t know why.

For such a long time I lived with this kind of mood without being able to express it anywhere, not to anyone. I was struggling for my sanity; I was constantly thinking of destroying myself; and I was hoping someone would see me, and rush to save me. But nobody ever saw that of me.

I was a badass. I was a cool girl. I seemed to everybody else a smart, talented, expensive girl who's got all her shit together. Even on days she wasn't all that together, she had an enviable life anyway. I appeared on the outside too glamorous for anybody to even imagine that on the inside I was rotting. I was this close to being dead, all the time.

Who in their simple-mindedness would've thought a girl like that could be so macabre all the time? And that’s how I experienced an entire life witnessing people’s lack of empathy. I guess my point of view was fragmented but that was how life was for me anyway. Ironically, some intuitive peeps who were able to see the macabre in me thought I was frightening more than anything HAHAHAH That was all the same in the end. Enough with the gossips. I don’t know what normal people expect from everybody else they meet, to be honest. I don’t know what I’d expected from them either.

I guess it’s because the society I grew up in was like that that I couldn’t bring myself to show anybody my distress. Trauma. Mental illness. Disordered personality. All of that was nothing but insanity. And insane people don’t belong in society.

So simple. Yet so cruel.

Thank you, Jesus. Mother Mary. Catholic Church. Thanks for all the rejection. I’m SO happy now!

That’s fucking twisted.

In a society brimming with nothing but pretenders, we meet and chit and chat and act like all of our troubles are manageable to say the least. ‘Yeah, it’s not that bad, to be honest.' But it was; you've just got to pose real strong otherwise people think you're a loser. 'I guess I’m OK.’ But you weren't; you've just got to really make it sound like you're still keeping it together. 'I'll be just fine.' But you wouldn't know; you didn't even know if you'd still wanna be alive tomorrow.

In the midst of all those meaningless exchanges, I hated quite nothing more than to hear, especially from men, how strong I was as a woman. I hated it like I'd never hated anything in my life.

It was suffocating to be seen as holding it together when you were literally breaking at the seams...

I wanted someone to be able to notice I was screaming on the inside. That I was gasping for air every second I was sitting there listening to their trivial chitter chatter. Who cares about your silly drama? Would you care for mine if you knew my life was on the line? And I hated those expectant eyes. All of them. Were they expecting me to share in their self-made woes and console them in the end? HAH. Go to hell, losers.

I always thought, none of MY problems were created by my own reckless behaviours that would've obviously hurt myself or others. Not in the beginning, at least. Unlike some idiots, I was never into drugs, one night stands, or even smoking; I never caused anybody any trouble. So why did everybody cause me trouble when all I wanted was just a peaceful, normal life? Shit, what even was my IDEA of a normal life? I can't remember now.

Certain days I feel very deeply that I want to cry but I don’t know why. There's always not enough reason to do so now. Haah... If it weren't for my abundance of Aquarius, which makes me incredibly lazy and antisocial, I'd have paraded around town and rallied to become a Neo Hitler and kill everybody in this rotten world. I hated this world so much.

The first ever PAC I put out here was ‘What’s Your Crazy?’ What ever was my reason for writing that? I was crazy and I needed some explanation.

I used to look like the girl in the third pic before I chopped all of my hair off everyone began to suspect I was gay. I wasn’t gay; I was depressed. Those unassuming idiots.

[leofrith]

hii so i‘m way to invested in everyone‘s baldurs gate plays. can we see your tavs? I would love to see them haha😭

YESSSSSS i will happily take any excuse to talk about my tavs. 🥰 i'm sorry this took so long. i wanted to have their Lore™ a little more set in stone before answering this, but then i proceeded to make uhhhh 2 more tavs and a durge. 🤡

i am listing my characters in the order i created them. they're all good/neutral aligned because being mean in video games makes me break out in hives. aaaaand this is going under a read more because it got really fucking long. 🥴

marqwyn stoneheart

race: human

class: eldritch knight fighter

background: soldier

romance: gale

my first tav who i adore. ❤️ i stole her name from the very first character i created for a now abandoned dnd campaign (though she's nothing like og marqwyn). she's a former flaming fist who left their service due to the corruption she witnessed there. after leaving the city she became an independent soldier for hire—but she's a terrible mercenary because she's a bleeding heart who will help people because they need it, regardless of whether they can pay her or not.

she has dragged the party into many an unnecessary brawl because her charisma is literally in the negatives. we love a girl incapable of talking herself out of Situations. she also used to have two brown eyes before deciding to get herself volo'd during a brief moment of desperation-fuelled insanity.

her backstory has changed a lot since i first made her, mostly because i didn't really have anything in mind when i started playing. 😬 i also had no fucking clue what i was doing when i first started and it certainly shows (tons of missed content, didn't take enough long rests, completely missed lae'zel for the first ~30 hours of gameplay, have done quests in an extremely questionable order, etc.).

i romanced gale with her because the wizard had me by the jugular the second he opened his mouth, and buff wife who hits things with her big sword and her squishy wizard husband who casts counterspell is something that can be so personal. that being said, i do want to rework her character and do another playthrough with her, probably romancing wyll, because her playthrough is a mess.

i will now dip into the alternate canon that lives in my brain in which my next three tavs are allowed to coexist, so just stay with me here and trust in the vision ajgjsdgf

meadow moonwillow

race: mephistopheles tiefling

class: storm sorcerer, bard of the college of lore

background: entertainer

romance: karlach (or enya in the canon that exists in my head)

i made her specifically for my karlach romance run, because best girl deserves a little sunshine to match her own. meadow was born to play gigs in dive bars, but was cursed with a natural talent for magic. 😔 she'll use it because it's useful in a fight, i guess, but she'd much rather insult people to death. if there is shit to be disturbed, she will disturb it.

her and gale are best friends, because i think having some friendly spell caster competition with his bestie who (begrudgingly) lets him teach her wizard spells would be good for his mental health. her and wyll butt heads a bit at first, mostly because meadow's way of trying to comfort people is through humor, and her attempts to make him feel better about his new devil form come off as insensitive (inspired by the way i accidentally insulted wyll at the tiefling party in my meadow playthrough by joking that i was jealous of his horns. king i swear it was meant as a compliment!! 😭). eventually they become really close, which is certainly a necessity when you're both going on a vacation to hell with no set end date.

also my choice of name for her definitely has nothing to do with the fact that i am in the middle of watching the sopranos. definitely not.

landric sparrowsong, "the wrath-bringer"

race: human

class: oath of vengeance paladin, tempest domain cleric of ilmater

background: sage

romance: gale

his backstory is probably the one i've thought about in the most detail, mostly because he's a walking tragedy and i live for that shit. 🧍🏻‍♀️

he was once a school teacher and wasn't much of a fighter at all before his little village near baldur's gate was razed to the ground and his wife and (or so he thinks 👀) daughter were killed, at which point he took up his oath of vengeance. his favourite pastimes now include self-sacrifice and violently murdering evildoers, hence the "wrath-bringer" epithet.

he has been alone—mostly by choice, because he can't lose any more loved ones if there is no one left alive that he loves—for over a decade by the time he's infected, but the forced proximity means the companions very quickly get under his skin. he's very protective of meadow especially (when they're both in the party at the same time in the universe that exists in my head) because she reminds him of his daughter.

he is god's favourite sacrificial lamb, and is consistently the first to go down in a fight (inspired by me, constantly getting him killed by taking far too long to figure out how to play a support class). naturally i paired him with gale because i think the idea of a guy finally opening his heart to the love of another after over a decade of self-imposed solitude out of fear of being hurt again, only for gale to decide to take on a suicide mission just as they're finally realizing their feelings for one another, is soooooo good and tragic. ☺️

he has a soft spot for children, but being around them makes him sad and withdrawn (for obvious reasons), something that the companions notice pretty quickly once they get to the grove and see his cold exterior totally melt around the kids there. he carries a journal which he adds to often, either little blurbs or sketches of people he meets in his travels, ever observing from afar as an outsider.

he was actually a war cleric of mystra when i first multiclassed him because the idea of this man finding solace in his goddes during the worst years of his life only for that same goddess to tell the first person he's truly loved in years that he needs to kill himself is sooooo. anyway. but i decided to change it because war domain just wasn't doing it for me and also have you seen ilmater's whole deal?

also if he bears a close resemblance to my favourite unromanceable assassin's creed npc, that's just a coincidence (lying).

enya sparrowsong

race: human

class: beast master ranger/circle of the land druid

background: urchin

romance: lae'zel (or meadow in the canon that exists in my head)

enya is landric's very alive daughter. i made her in the character creator with no intention of actually doing a playthrough as her, which is a lie i tell myself every time i open the character creator. 😔

ideally she would not even be filling the role of tav at all, but that's obviously not an option for an actual playthrough. she spent her childhood hunting and gathering in the wilds and later pickpocketing her way through the darkened alleys of baldur's gate to survive. in the version of her backstory that lives in my head, she eventually caught the attention of jaheira (by trying to rob her), who then took enya under her wing. the harpers became a family to her, and she is with them in the shadow lands when we meet them at last light in act two. also depending on my mood on any given day, enya and meadow are either bitter exes or couple of the year.

she is generally very abrasive with most people she doesn't know well (her and lae'zel are very perfect for each other), but has a soft spot for animals and orphans. she likes her solitude and it takes a lot of effort to earn her trust (there's a reason she's survived alone as long as she has) but once you do, she's ride-or-die.

she has a raven companion and her preferred wild shape is a wolf, but i've also had a lot of fun using her wolf wild shape and a wolf companion for twice the mauling in combat (and twice the torment for shadowheart—thank you sam for pointing out that she would fucking hate this 😭). i also like to think that she's been helping shadowheart get over her fear of wolves.

her relationship with her dad is deliciously complicated!!! but that's for another post.

idunn

race: high elf

class: necromancy wizard/gloom stalker ranger

background: haunted one

romance: astarion

i haven't played as her much yet, and she's my first durge so i don't really know a ton about that whole background. but her brain is currently scrambled egg and she doesn't remember her past so i figure it's fine if i don't know anything about it either.🧍🏻‍♀️

she's trying so very hard not to kill people, and making up for the lack of murder by being incredibly rude to everyone she meets [astarion approves]. i named her idunn because i like the name but also in large part because i think associating the dark urge with the norse goddess of rejuvenation and vitality is really funny.

aelius lucilius

race: drow half-elf

class: light domain cleric of selune

background: acolyte

romance: shadowheart

he's my newest tav and the one i've played the least, so i'm still working out his backstory. i honestly just really wanted to romance shadowheart as a selunite, which is working out great so far because the shar is already out of the bag and now she loudly and openly hates his fucking guts. 🤪

[archivalofsins]

It's probably not something many people want to hear or even attempt to internalize.

However, if the way a person engages with any media is making people actively fearful, afraid, or anxious to engage with said media that's not good. If a good deal of people's response to trial two coming to a close is like they're clocking out of a long work shift, finally getting that vacation they've been hoping for. That's not healthy or fun.

I want it to be known that if someone cannot personally handle being around others with different opinions than them, if someone is asking why these people can't just see this how they see it- It's not even an issue of Milgram not being a healthy series for them to engage in anymore. At that point being a part of big fandom spaces may not be a healthy thing for that person in general.

Look I know that throughout trial two a vocal minority of fans have made Milgram a completely horrid experience for a good deal of people. Mostly fucking twitter users. Some of which are here now and like to bring their drama with them. I don't even use the fucking thing anymore. This ceased to be just a western fan problem and turned into a global one a long time ago.

Fans on twitter to my personal memory,

Complained about other countries being allowed to vote at all stating that Milgram should only let people who live in Japan vote, the same person who said this on twitter made a poll after the end of Amane's trial to figure out if it was just western fans that wanted her innocent. Consistently gave inaccurate information about dissociative identity disorder (focused primarily upon one person's individual experience with it multiple times in various spaces). Resulting in presenting the disorder as a monolith in order to push their own theories setting back progress for the millions of people who actually have it. Literally the western audience heavily headcanoned Mu's victim as half black while making fun of her death/how she died during her second trial. Along with using racist rhetoric/dogwhistles in order to push for an innocent verdict for the girl. Made a Kazui guilty shrine. Directly incentivizing people to vote the man guilty by giving them stuff each day they did-

Bitch I'm not paid for this. Hell I would like to be- Incentivize me real quick. Honestly, since they got paid just saying where's mine? People on tumblr write elaborate theories and analysis for free. Because they genuinely enjoy the media. Twitter is the fucking platform that's telling people how they should fucking vote and trying to decide who has the right to since trial two started. Then fucking whining when their piss poor behavior doesn't get them the verdicts they want. It's so bad that eastern fans have actively sought help from western fans to combat some of these problems on multiple occassions.

There are people in the east who wanted Amane innocent and celebrated when she was innocent just like there are people in the west who wanted her guilty. Whether the fandom on twitter believes it or not. This part of the fandom is so detached from the rest of it that they only dream about knowing what the fuck we do over here. They've created a fucking echochamber. Yet the people literally going think for yourself, this is my opinion what's yours are getting the most flack because the vocal minority doesn't like the fact the logic they share makes their feelings hurt.

That in the face of the actual facts of the situations presented to us none of the prisoners look completely good or completely bad. Yet, they're definitely not looking that good either. That some of the facts directly conflict with the squeaky clean always right image they've created of the prisoner they like in their head. Then they go online and make that the issue of whoever's take they like the least that day instead of I don't know not bothering others. Then the worst part is these people whine and play victim harder than the prisoners in their interrogations as soon as consequences present themself for their behavior usually as tangible trial results in Milgram.

Because they've continually thrown these fits publically just to have the verdict they didn't want happen over and over this trial.

Pushed for Mu innocent-

Pushed for Kazui Guilty-

Pushed for Amane Guilty-

I don't even give a fuck what Twitter is pushing for with Kotoko at this point because she's pushing up daises from the bottom of hell-

By audience choice. Literally by audience choice. Fuck the only thing I've heard about Kotoko's trial from twitter was from Star about how they're once again attempting voting fraud in an attempt to get her innocent. Though even I can admit this is fucking embarrassing. This is like really fucking sad. Everything Twitter has fucking pushed for this trial has not won. Meawhile I think maybe tumblr took one loss with Haruka this trial and just vowed never again.

I think everyone can realize how fucking wild that is. Can you fucking imagine how at your wits end you would be if you kept publicly losing like this? How dejected? It's only reasonable to think why isn't anyone listening to what I have to say or how I feel in this sort of situation. Yet, at the same time some of the fans on twitter have actively alienated the other fans on there they have no fandom unity. Which makes sense given they do the shit up there. They are literally eatting eachother over there for sport.

Because it's fucking twitter. That's how it's always been.

Hell, I fucking wouldn't even know these were losses for them if they didn't announce on every verdict post on twitter that's what happened. Or even go back to the comments of Purge March where they're still complaining about Amane's innocent verdict primarily blaming you guessed it the west.

Then they want to go I'm just trying to have fun why are people so mean- Without ever asking who their fun is at the expense of. What it says when they blame everything on overseas fans, state they shouldn't be allowed to vote, and Milgram is different now. This is the platform people are letting impact their experience and encite them into bothering people on other platforms?! People who are actually just trying to have fun in a way that is unique and personal to them? This is the platform running the milgram fandom narrative?

This is what people want the history of the fandom to be when all is said and done? I don't because I know the fandom is better than this. I know it can be better than this. The worst part of trial two is the fact that we let people with no intention to understand make us believe it couldn't be better than this. People who most of the time actively sought out someone who's privately enjoying themselves in the fandom to just go "um, actually you're doing that wrong" or picked someone from the tag to have bad faith discourse with.

Newsflash nobody asked, nobody fucking asked for a Milgram referee, nobody asked who's watching the watchmen, who's guarding the guard. If anyone's fandom hobby is trying to micromanage how others engage with media they're in a different book now and they deserve to stay in it alone or with people like them. Because the only thing people who act in this way want is for others to shut up. For them to stop saying the things that make their favorite look bad and there's only one thing to respond to that with after a while.

I hope you grow up someday~

Think about what makes people who do this more entitled to having fun discussing the things they enjoy than the person(s) that they're currently behaving in this way to? What makes them different from the others that they look down on and treat as an enemy from square one. All because they read a post and decided to define whether a fan was a good or bad person based on that alone. It's not different from coming to that conclusion from just listening to a song or watching a music video really.

Plus, I promise anyone who is doing stuff like this nobody is going to magically change their mind because someone behaves this way towards them. Because the people who do this shit are usually no different from the people who do the same shit listed above. Now everyone is not like this. This is why I said the vocal minority. It's still bad that people are behaving in this manner and treating others like this regardless of how little people are doing it.

At a point the Milgram fandom globally is going to have to reckon with how the way many have treated other fans in this space has been harmful and sown division. The solution to this hostility should not have to be disavowing an entire part of the fandom on a different platform and going we don't do that shit here. However, at a point that becomes the only correct response. Because at the point the behavior being exhibited by some fans is making others feel unsafe and anxious about enjoying the things they enjoy it is only right to go-

We don't do that shit here. We don't engage with people who do that shit here. I have no respect for anyone who mistreats real people over Milgram. If people want to have fun and not have these serious discussions the door is right there go out of it. Communication is a two way street and if you come to someone else with disrespect and hostility you should expect right back. The time of having both while some have none is fucking over. People who behave in this way, whining and bitching about how we don't need nuance it's not that serious one instance just to pivot into how can you not take this seriously are disngenuous and ultimately driven by serving only theirselves.

I myself am sick of pretending like they don't fucking realize that. Because the biggest kicker here is they treat themselves like prisoners but unlike them no one is forcing them to be here or engage at all. People who enjoy anlayzing these things and asking these questions aren't forcing them to fucking do that too. So, no one who enjoys Milgram that way is responsible for the feelings of those who do not enjoy engaging with the series in that way.

Every individual is responsible for currating their own fandom experience. Anyone entitled enough to bother another person into currating their personal fandom experience around them and only saying things that they like is the one being the issue. It's probably disappointing to hear but if the ways up there are how fans want to enjoy Milgram on Twitter and I don't like that I stay away from fucking twitter. Like I said I stopped going in the milgram tag on here and I don't go on twitter either.

I'm not going to act like the tumblr part of the fandom doesn't have problems or even a lot of the same ones as twitter. It spreads misinformation as though it's fact, the fans here can be just as hostile, a lot of fans on tumblr are from twitter as well or use it too. More fans from twitter are coming to tumblr. I can't imagine why-

On tumblr I've personally been messaged some of the rudest most guilt trippy shit by multiple people in this fandom and then blocked immediately. One of the reasons I made that post explaining what grooming is by definition was because someone condescendingly direct messaged me stating I had misused the term. Then when it boiled down to it they're entire issue was simply I don't think Kotoko is that and I don't like how you're stating that she is.

If people keep making they're interpretations your responsibility that's a personal issue not a failing on you the person they happen to be taking that out on today. Because if they feel emboldened to do it once they'll do it twice- Hell, they'll do it as many times as they can get away with doing it until someone stands firm and goes I'm not engaging in this anymore if this is the behavior that brings you joy fine go have fun. However, this isn't what I want my fandom experience to be and I'd appreciate if you respected that and if you can't we just won't talk.

Engaging with your own personal interests is meant to be fun. It's meant to be honest to how you feel and what you personally believe. Anyone making you feel bad about that for no reason by centering themselves and their enjoyment first and foremost in a shared space, regardless of how understanding you want to be, is taking advantage of you. They're saying you have to pay for my fun by giving up your own and being less of yourself publicly because the way you have fun is messing up mine. That's not fair to you and anyone who wants you to respect their fun by dampening your own fucking knows that and doesn't care.

Because if they did they would respect what you enjoy as something that makes you happy first and foremost and talk to you about like a person instead of a problem. Yet if others can't do that if they can't give you the good faith back that you extend to them. You just have to cut them off at a point. Because I'm not cutting off my own hands to put a smile on a strangers face. I'm not silencing myself just so others can applaud. That's not how this works and no one should ever think it is. Fandom while it can be personalized to one's own needs is about community and no community can be good when anyone in it is being mistreated.

Sadly we can't control others the only thing we as individuals can do is try to be kind and understanding of the other fans that share this space with us. And- when people do the things above extend the benefit of the doubt say they're having a tough time and then extend consideration towards yourself and ask is this something I want to see or engage with in any capacity. That's all. The prisoners may have to go through hell by the end of this but that doesn't mean we have to make this hell on each other.

[crazylittlejester]

since it’s almost Hyrule Warriors anniversary…do you have any lttc warriors facts you’d like to share 🤲 also I’m going to draw him as part of my drawing links from different links meets thing I do for each game’s anniversary. It will happen I promise you so uh. idk if you have additional facial descriptors for him that you left in the other posts 🤲 but I’m pretty sure I can draw him accurately enough with the information already provided 👍 anyways, hope you have a good rest of your day!

OH BOY A CHANCE TO YAP ABOUT MY BLORBO!!!!!!

- Zelda keeps trying to promote him and he keeps refusing and she’s so frustrated by it, but he refuses to accept a promotion for something he doesn’t believe he accomplished

- He genuinely thinks he’s so sneaky with the lifts he has in his boots, he’s genuinely convinced no one knows

- Proxi can acknowledge how much he’s grown, but she still sees him as her wet cat son who just desperately needed someone to look out for him. She’s very proud of him, but she still thinks he’s ridiculous

- It took him a hot minute to become fluent enough in ‘hyrulian common’ (english) to be able to understand fast conversations with slang in them and to be able to speak back and converse with other soldiers at that level because it’s not his first language (this is why he sometimes stares at people with an incredibly blank expression during the war, he doesn’t always understand what they’re saying). Proxi continued to speak on his behalf until he’d perfected a castle town accent as well because he didn’t want anyone knowing he didn’t grow up within Hyrule kingdom

-Regularly abuses the fact that the general public has a certain image of him in their minds, and when he does not meet that image he can literally walk around wherever the hell he wants without being recognized and it’s so good for his mental health. He’s still paranoid and worried, but people just don’t recognize him because they hear all the tales of a strong, confident young man and Warriors is actually fairly quiet and comes off as a bit shy, plus people just aren’t expecting the hero to randomly be walking around on his own. Without the make up, fancy clothes, and boots and all that, he can just walk around markets like a normal person, and without the green tunic, Mask can too. So he’d pretty regularly just take Mask around towns to buy sweet treats and they both got to experience what it might’ve been like for an eighteen year old to shop with his little brother

- During the war, he and Ravio got quite close. They’re a dangerous combination and make each other worse

- He and his Zelda are incredibly close, they’re extremely good friends and they like to get together every so often and just YAP

also for any additional descriptors: LTTC Wars looks pretty much exactly like how I headcanon LU Wars. He was deadass created from You’re A Part Of Me Wars when I one day sat back and went “oh my god at this point I’ve just made my own guy-” the main difference between LTTC Wars and You’re A Part Of Me Wars is that LTTC Wars grew up outside of Hyrule Kingdom surrounded by a different culture and he struggled a lot more with a language barrier when he went to Castle Town (while my version of LU Wars grew up IN Hyrule Kingdom and had to struggle with learning his mom’s side of the family’s culture while being unable to fully interact with it), and a few details of the war. But physically they’re the same guy, so my pfp pic could be used as an additional ref if you needed :) THANK YOU FOR DRAWING MY GUY I LOVE HIM VERY MUCH

i love to stick lttc wars and you’re a part of me wars in a room and see what happens, they’d both hate it but I think theyd have so much to say

[rederiswrites]

Ok, I swear, this one's for the people who DON'T follow K-pop, and only know BTS as some Korean boyband that uses a lot of autotune. Just to highlight some things I'm currently enjoying the hell out of from their careers. Lemme start with some context.

So in Korea, Idol is a job above and beyond just performing onstage. You are meant to be a product. An object for adoration, specifically trained and cultivated to create the sort of parasocial relationship that sells out shows and merchandise. It is fucking rigorous. It usually involves substantial economic hardship unless and until you're one of the handful of groups that makes it big. It's also blatantly predatory, and idols are chosen when they're literally kids, at most 18 usually.

Your contract with the label frequently specifies that you're not allowed to swear, smoke, date, or generally do anything not squeaky clean anywhere you might be seen, which, since they've got cameras shoved up your ass and bolted to your bed, is everywhere. Merely touching a person of the opposite sex can set off a whole scandal and get you (or the poor unfortunate you breathed near) a huge pile of hate. They're also perfectly aware that they're "just" idols, just boybands or girl bands, to a lot of people, and not considered serious musicians, even in their own country.

Idols also have a pretty short shelf-life. Korean beauty standards are, as far as I can tell, even more youth-obsessed than in the US. The oldest female artists are like, 34. There's like, one woman over 30 for every twenty under 20. Men's careers often founder on their mandated military service, which is roughly two years (depending on branch). They've got to serve that by the time they're 30.

BTS got extensions, because they're a statistically significant percent of the entire South Korean GDP. But now the elder members have got to do their service, no way around it. Kim Seokjin (Jin) went in a couple months ago, Jung Hoseok (J-Hope) a few days ago. So the group is on hiatus, there's no helping it.

That was the background. What happens now is the fun part.

The Korean government played politics, bouncing back and forth on "should idols big enough get exemptions" for years, specifically namedropping and using BTS as a political toy. BTS themselves didn't comment on any of it, and played their cards very close to their chest and said nothing about their military service. Then they did a huge concert in Busan, Korea, where they resurrected an old rap cipher which involves chanting "Fuck you I don't care, you can't control my shit", performed it with such fire that it looked like they were legit about to start a riot, and then the next week announced that they were going on hiatus and Jin was entering the military.

Since then, let's see: nearly every member has at least posted a shirtless photo, and the three youngest members have done entire photoshoots (and in one case a music video) shirtless. Jimin released a single titled "Set Me Free"--not terribly subtle--and a photoshoot he made a point of saying he'd designed from the ground up, which is SOAKED in queer symbology. I have to emphasize that these choices are all MUCH more significant than they would be in the US. Min Yoongi put an entire album full of rage and violent imagery and painful intimacy and swearing, and smoked and shot people and performed self-harm in his music videos. J Hope released an album full of dark driving rhythms utterly unlike his previous work, and broke sales records as a solo star at Lollapalooza, even while still singing and rapping primarily in Korean.

Some of the members are quieter, clearly a bit unmoored without the thing that has shaped and dictated their entire adult lives, but they're also shrugging off the idol image with deep relief. Namjoon is philosophizing and being extremely frank about mental struggles and crying on camera. Jungkook is having regular almost uncomfortably intimate lives, where he just sings along with the music or folds his laundry or even just smiles sleepily at the camera for a while. Who the hell knows what Taehyung does. Exactly as he pleases, probably, but definitely while wearing thousands of dollars of fashion and looking like the prince of the dark sidhe.

I was looking forward to this. Not to the military service, of course. As a non-Korean, I'm well aware that it's none of my damn business, but of course I don't like it. But I was looking forward to these guys slipping the leash and having lives and careers beyond the chains of idolhood. And it's been pretty awesome so far.

[oars]

hiii I want to know more about appindex 👉👈

what is his relationship like with the other party members?

How easily does she trust other people?

If they are stressed or upset is there a thing/place/action that is comforting to him?

also anything else you want to share?

(I LOVE her design by the way, their appearance immediately caught my attention. Love your use of color too)

sorry this took me so long i swear when i saw this ask i started squealinf abd looking like this

gonna put it under a read more since um im gonna assume this will get really long lol

disclaimer im gonna straight spill my thoughts sorry if things stop making sense

i made a small comic just for the first question but tumblr doesnt like it for some reason and it prevents it from showing up unless you go directly to my blog :<

anyways i think overall appindex is like a mother of at least 6. companions come to them in the middle of the night like "i frew up :(" that typa thing

since family/clan n loyalty is very important to dragonborn and appindex just lost theirs before being abducted they are very quick to attach to these losers

i think while appin is not under the control of any god, lord, devil, etc they've created a personal hell of his own bc he tries to bear all responsibilities and burdens of those around him bc he's scared of failing and losing too much again. or all he has left really. that can make them kind of overbearing and it would be annoying if like the main companions didn't have issues and lowkey liked the attention.

what does get annoying is that it comes off as appindex not trusting their companions to do any heavy lifting but that improves in like act 2-3 especially since that's around the part the tav is expected to save baldurs gate. and the world like that's way too much weight for appin to carry on their own without breaking so atp they don't really have a choice but to let their companions share some of that albeit verrrry reluctantly

slightly more specific relations ---

shadowheart: shart is the first appin gets close to even if shes older i like to think she's like a little sister to appindex anyways <3 i should just show screenshots of the epilogue conversation bc it feels so fitting. probably one of the only companions to recognize appin's exhaustion and nag her

karlach: close in a years long tumblr mutual type intimacy way. "i'd let my mutuals come inside idc" type relationship. they occasionally sleep and cuddle naked. as good friends do. it's nice having someone they could rely on for literal heavy lifting and hitting bc in appin's eyes the rest of his companions are made of sticks and paper, save for lae'zel. girls who rip off heads with their bare hands and paint their nails in the blood :3

astarion: i do not know how to explain their relationship early on bc it fluctuates in my head. obviously irritated by how appin stops to help anyone and everyone especially since most of those people in act 1 are parents and children. appindex definitely laughs at his lame ass "seduction" bc it's pretty see through; it becomes less about seducing and just aiming making them laugh. appin probably said "im proud of you" at some point and it got to his head now he's vying for their attention and validation (get in line). my white hollow boned elf i'd probably give my organs to if he asked - appin

i think appindex is the more mature one, mentally and emotionally, especially since dragonborn develop and mature much earlier than elves do and i feel like dying young and being under cazador's control stunted astarions own maturity a bit. the result is appindex treating him like a child sometimes; not trusting him to do a number of things, scolding him,"dont treating me like a child" "dont act like one" etc etc. i think at some point he just does it and wears on appindex's extensive patience on purpose because he's a little freak like that :/. appin does not think its cute

ok no more of them next question

i think appindex is pretty trusting in a way. if they feel like they have no reason to feel threatened by someone they'll have their trust but that doesn't mean it can't be lost ofc. which is why they trust laezel and astarion so easily. why would they be scared of a tiny white elf who can't even get them to knife point (he failed that).

he does struggle to trust others to do things for them though, if he were ever to be out of commission or on the verge of it it would be like pulling teeth to try and get him to let someone else lead temporarily.

appin holds onto a piece of kednyr's old blanket bc it still smells like her :thumbs_up: karlach gives her a teddy bear with that piece attached to it as a gift. astarion may have helped but he will not confirm

extra notes ermm appin lived in the upper city, not a patriar or a servant, they just co-run an expensive smithy there.

as a passionate blacksmith (and someone who wants to become an artificer) appin is really intrigued by karlach's engine and wishes they could collaborate with dammon on how to fix it or make her a new one entirely

to add onto that he's extremely fascinated by the grymforge in the underdark its like a theme park to him. it is their nerdiest point in the storyline

they can stay underwater for a good period of time; an hour is their highest time

andd she has a prosthetic leg around age 40-45 sorry this got so long . this things in my head 24/7 rn i tried to omit some things to make it shorter but oh well

[inoreuct]

Okay I actually have a few extra headcanons for this au (and the little ficlet I’m writing for you), so take them into account when reading lol (hope you don’t mind)

Zoro (when in human form) has two pairs of canines (not one, the extra pair sits behind the first. The first (normal) pair are quite large, and sometimes stick out of his mouth), and his teeth are all unnaturally sharp. Also, slit pupils because I said so. He also has tiger stripe prints on his back, although he normally excuses them as tattoos. Ears are slightly pointed, fingers more nimble, you know the drill. Moves and jumps way faster/higher than a normal person has any right to. Nails are similar to cats claws (as in, attached to the bone), and are incredibly sharp. The Tiger form is massive, and makes him look like some kind of spirit (sword + massive + green = not normal lol). Scars and the such transfer to each form. Side note, Zoro doesn’t really feel pain (or temperature for that matter), so it’s harder for chopper to treat him, because how does one treat something when the subject can’t feel it? Zoro is also really intelligent and perceptive, it just doesn’t seem that way because he has zero fucks left to give.

Hope your day is good my guy <3

IM SHAKING YOU SO HARD. WHAAAAAAT THE HELL THIS IS SO SO GOOD ALREADY.

i’m sat here hunched over my phone like 👀👀 I’M SO MAD I DIDN’T THINK OF THE SLIT PUPILS FIRST I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THAT and yes to the pointy teeth. he’s a bitey bastard with his crew already but he’s entirely capable of ripping someone’s throat out with those. and the TIGER STRIPES your brain is so HUGE. massive, dare i say. the increased speed, strength, agility— it’s not obvious when you don’t look closely but once you do it’s easy to see that he’s Not All Human. but i think his crew is almost a safety barrier against people reading too much into it, because zoro bickers and banters and lets them hang all over him, and it puts strangers at ease yk?

HE’S DEFINITELY BEEN MISTAKEN AS SOME KIND OF SPIRIT AT SOME POINT. THE WHOLE CREW GOT A KICK OUT OF IT a village thought zoro was a divine guardian or something and the entire crew got treated like royalty. usopp felt a little bad about not saying anything but the others were Capitalising and zoro was living his best life LMAO

and omg. i hate it when people pass zoro off as dumb or stupid because he is a dumbass but he’s not Dumb. he literally created his own sword style. his battle instincts are honed nearly sharper than his claws. he sits in the back of a room and seems antisocial but he is clocking EVERYTHING; who’s coming in and out of all the exits, where his crewmates are, any potential threats etc etc (also figures out exactly what booze they have by smell alone but let’s not enable him shall we)— the point is, he is intelligent, perceptive and he doesn’t seem like it, which makes him all the more dangerous. people look at him and see a blockhead with three swords, and the next thing they know they’re pinned to the ground with claws in their chest and fangs at their throat. he’s vicious and i love it.

ANYWAY I’M SO EXCITED TO READ THE FICLET YOU HAVE NO IDEA I’M DOING LAPS RN. this was so enjoyable to read already i literally can’t wait for the whole thing. HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY ANON 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[nrdmssgs]

A heart full of pity (part 4 (final))

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

Summary: Cruelty leads to cruelty. This circle is difficult to break apart, sometimes it ends up breeding monsters, chimeras. But if one participant finds the strength to show compassion: there is hope for everyone.

TW: Mention of scars left by an injury (burns). Swearing. Smut part under cut. Thanks: @homicidal-slvt opened this portal for me and helped me share something very personal. I can never thank her enough. Check out her absolutely beautiful Nik drabble. @sofasoap created Lastochka series and got me absolutely enamored by a character I, could barely stand before. This is the real power of writing. And my dear @gamergirlbones who woke up one morning and decided to be the best, most supporting and encouraging person out there.

Authors note: Im sorry for Nik literally not shutting up for a single minute in smut-part. In his defence: he behaved for a good two parts. This is the final part. I may return to these characters one day, but this story arc is over.

Their final destination appears to be a secluded sea bay, which would look like a tourist heaven if it was located in a more popular country. For the first time, Nikolai doesn't take her on a meeting, and she is on her own till the evening, when they were supposed to go have a much-needed drink. She couldn't wrap her head around the fact, that Nik not only had a full military organization at his disposal, but also was trying to hire her even in her present ‘useless’ state. “I need you.” These were the exact words, he used that morning, leaving her alone at their table. The words stuck in her head, as she was aimlessly roaming around a seashore, cooling her barefoot in water. Here, away from prying eyes, she could finally take off a warm thick shirt and expose her back to sun rays. In the evening, Nik meets her at the hotel entrance, and she immediately regrets agreeing to go out for a drink with him. Of course, she hoped to take her mind off his "Project C" for at least an hour. But she hadn't planned on being distracted by the top buttons of his shirt, which were, quite ‘by accident’, left unbuttoned. And by no means did she plan to stare at the rolled-up sleeves hugging tightly his forearms. She felt, she was desperately losing the ‘look anywhere but at him’ contest every time she caught his smug grin. He was clearly amused by her attempts to find any topic to speak on, just to avoid long pauses in which he just tilted his head lightly while looking at her. “I've just remembered that time Gaz asked me if there were any specifically Russian drinking games. I had to think for 5 minutes straight and still didn't manage to come up with anything.” She takes a sip out of her glass, not raising her gaze. “How does ‘survive the morning after drinking with a Russian’ sounds?” Nikolai lets out a dark chuckle. “Oh no, even I suck at it. A thousand years ago, when I was still young and naive, I once drank rum with a guy, claiming, that I was immune to alcohol due to my origins… I believe my lips were all over him just a few hours later. And on the next morning, my head was killing me.” By the end of the story her face goes red, but she shares it anyway, since the memory is more funny than embarrassing after all these years. “Poor little one.” Nik reaches out and pats her head. “But you also make me question myself, why the hell aren't we drinking rum.” “Because I now can't stand even a smell of it. And because you don't need it.” She looks beyond his back at slowly crowding bar. A few pairs of pretty eyes are glued to Nikolai, and she envies them for being able to sneak a peak, while he doesn't notice. The more people gather in the bar, the more stuffy and warm it becomes. At some point, she understands, that all the layers of cloth, she is hiding her skin under, are going to suffocate her. So she excuses herself and goes to the ladies room. There, she closes her eyes and splashes some water on her face. “Excuse me?” An unfamiliar voice is calling. She brushes the drops from her eyes and turns towards the sound. Two women: mesmerizing eyes, caramel tan, light sundresses dancing around soft curves, smiles making the whole room seeming more illuminated. “Yes?” She straightens her back. “Excuse us if we misread, we've noticed you and your partner sitting there, and… do you guys date? Because if yes, then sorry again.” One of them speaks, while the other is standing back, trying to mask her interest. She stares blankly at them for a couple of seconds, processing, what she just heard. “Ehm, no! No, we are just colleagues…” “Oh in that case don't you mind if we talk to your colleague? You see, she back there has a thing for accents, and I am here more for show… and to help her.” “Yes, of course!” It seems, her brain turns off and her mouth keeps forming words automatically. “In fact, I was just going to call it a night anyway, so he'll be free in a 5. He's a great guy, yes. Nik. Very nice one…” She mumbles some more nonsense and storms out of the room.

She manages to sneak behind Nikolai and leave the bar. On the way back to the hotel, she takes out her smartphone and types a message. "Sorry, just remembered something urgent. Don't worry, I'm fine. Please have fun.” As soon as the display blinks, showing a new notification - she turns the smartphone off.

Back in her room, she finally drags her clothes off. Her head is full of questions, she is angry, disappointed and despondent, her eyes burn with tears. “This is the right thing, the right, very right thing to do,” she mutters, stepping in the shower. Yes, of course it was only right to help a good friend to find a pleasing company. Well, maybe, it wasn't so gracious of her to run away, but she let him know, she was ok. Tomorrow, he himself will thank her for being such a nice wingman. What obviously isn't the right thing to do is to picture their fingers undoing his belt and shirt, playing with his hair… She growls and turns on freezing water. She hates cold showers, even in summer. But now anything will do just to shush those images away from her mind. Ice-cold water cramps her wrists, pains her legs. She closes her eyes and leans against the wall. Drops of water mix with tears, flow down and disappear into the drain. "You did the right thing," she whispers as shivers run through her body. She is interrupted by a knock on the door. "Great, let's have someone else mix up their room with mine and break in here," she mutters, wrapping herself in a towel. The knock repeats and she opens the door just a bit so that she could assess the extent of her problem and decide if she can handle it on her own. Nikolai is standing outside the door and his appearance alone does not bode well. Never before has she seen such a deep worry on his face. “You ok?” he reaches out his hand to her, but she backs up. “Can we at least talk? Please.” She lets him in and frantically dresses up in a bathroom, while he is waiting outside. “Sure, we can talk. Anything wrong?” She tries her best to sound calm and happy. When she walks in back in the room, he hands her his smartphone. “You tell me. If I did anything wrong, if I scared you with that rum-joke or crossed any line - you tell me, please. But don't sneak behind my back, setting some random girls on me. Don't disappear like that, because it is scary. And you know, I'm not the one to get frightened easily.” She looks down on his phone. He texted and called her. A lot. Guilt squeezes her throat, stings her chest so hard that she struggles to breathe in. She sits on her bed and gives him his phone back. “I'm sorry, Nik, I didn't mean to ruin your night. It's just… They asked me and I thought, it would be nice for you to look at someone other than me for one evening. Someone jolly and fun.” “Why do you make it all about me, little one? What about our night, why give up on it? For a sake of some ladies, you see for the first and the last time in your life?” He lifts her face by the chin, and she notices that his hair was disheveled. Perhaps he was really in a hurry to find her and ran. “For your sake. I wanted you to have a good time. You deserve to be surrounded by beautiful people, to have a little joy here and there.” Despite guilt burning inside, she made herself look him in the eyes. “And that beauty and joy exclude you? Who said you that, dear? Who was that idiot? Give me the name.” His tone is still warm and friendly, but his words make her nervous.

“No, Nikolai, this is not a situation, where you need to prove me wrong about my appearance. I'm ok with that, I promise. How I look, how I make others feel, is not my entire personality. I'm fine with being the way I am now.” Her voice trembles treacherously. “You are so fine with that, you hide yourself under a ton of sweaters, jackets, long pants, hoodies throughout the whole summer. And if I don't comment on that - it doesn't mean I don't notice. Now stop ignoring my question and give the name.” He smiles as if he doesn't plan on having ‘the talk’ with anyone, who planted this idea in her head. “It hurts even to glance at me.” The familiar words that escape her lips felt like they doused him with boiling water. It was him, all this time it was his words, that brought her pain, made her hate her own body. Nik slowly sinks on the bed beside her. “Grebanniy pridurok*” He quietly curses at himself, looking right before him. “Now, how about you end this charity evening and leave my room? Because I know, a heart full of pity can gather me an army, get me any weapon, set half a city on fire… but let us stop right there, because I don't want your attention or affection when it's all a ruth.” Her voice becomes again colorless and plain, just like the day he made her look at her reflection. “I was out of my pity for you on the very next morning after they hurt you.” Nik goes to the bathroom and returns with a towel. He sits beside her, carefully takes her wet hair, that soak her shirt and dries them with a towel. “The moment you woke up after that night, when you barely slept because of pain. At that exact moment I saw, you are not done fighting. At that exact second, there was no more pity for you. Maybe it was too soon, too hard on you. But if I had a pity - I wouldn't say that nonsense only to push you forward.” His touch is gentle and light. After drying her hair, he softly pulls her unbuttoned shirt down as it was so wet, he could see another layer of cloth under it. She doesn't protest, she just stares silently at the wall, letting him do whatever he wants. What difference does it make if she doesn't feel anything anyway? So she thought until his fingers brush against her shoulder. “You know, when you climb above the cloud level in an airplane, you can look down and not recognize clouds. There is this ‘altostratus’ type, that looks like frozen sea waves from above. Just like this place right here.” He traces a semi-circle on the back of her shoulder covered with marks and seams and covers it with an open warm palm. Her pulse quicken with panic: she hasn't felt anything in months, she could even accidentally cut her scorched skin and not notice, and now she clearly felt Niks` touch. “And when you climb up a bit more - you may find cirrostratus clouds. They float like bird feathers underwater and look just like this.” His fingers move the strap of her tank top a little and draw a pattern over one of her scars. “But my favourite one is cumulonimbus, a feisty one. Heart of thunder and plane hunter, it can produce tornado, lightnings, severe weathers of almost any kind. But it is gorgeous: it towers above others and changes constantly. Like this deep line, going down your spine.” “Nikolai, you really believe, fetishizing my scars will help?” She hides her face, feeling her cheeks burning and her heart racing. Whatever he was doing - it was working, as he made her feel something long forgotten. “Apparently you believe, hiding behind a sarcasm will help. So why don't I go on and be honest with you and repeat, that what I said a few months ago is an absolute bullshit and I regret every word of it. And I see beauty in those battle scars. Not some ‘funny face’ type of attractiveness, but a true beauty I used to see only up in the air.” Nikolai slips down the bed and ends up on his knees just to meet her face. “What do I have left apart from a sarcasm? I don't know what should I do.” She smiles bitterly.

“You have a great deal of grief, you have anger, you don't let out. Why not share it all with someone, who is here for you?” And if that wasn't enough, Nik squeezes her hand, making her finally look at his face. “You want anger? I am angry, Nikolai. I am pissed.” She starts talking quietly. “I hate myself for getting into this mess, for letting my Captain down. I hate it, that everyone around me are always right. Like Price was right about you being a good guy, you were right about me being able to pull the mission through. I'm surrounded by so many wise men, and I hate being the one you all get to teach. I hate it that my life consists of hospital screenings and that you are laying yourself out just to change that. ‘Here is new job’, ‘here is new contract’, just because I can't go on with 141… And I swear to god, you call me ‘little one’ one more time and i'm gonna break your face. I'm not that much younger than you, Nik! But the worst part in this situation…” She cradles his face and for one short moment digs her fingers in his temples. “The worst part is that even with all this frustration, I'm still sorry, that circumstances did not turn out differently, and I can't let myself even try to… nevermind, this all doesn't make any sense, when I say it out loud…” Her hands fall limply on her knees. “I have so much to say.” He straightens his back, takes her hands and returns them to his face. “But I'll start with the last part. Ti mozhesh. Moya khoroshaya, ti mozhesh pozvolit sebe podpustit` kogo-to blizhe. Ya skoree sam sebe ruku otgrizu, chem sdelau tebe bol`no, moe nebo. Odno slovo, odno slovo i ya ostavly tebya v pokoe. Nikogda ne potrevozhu. No mne nuzhno eto slovo*.” She listens to him and slowly shakes her head. “I can't let you closer and pretend my body causes me anything apart disgust and fear. I know, there are many things beyond physicality, but I don't want to be a constant reminder, you'll never feel a warmth of simple touch.”

His lips cover hers so swiftly, she doesn't even manage to get scared or worried. His touch, his moves - everything is full of care. He wasn't ‘testing the waters’ or teasing. She could only describe what he did as ‘kissing all the worries away’. He covers her hands on his cheeks with his palms, leaning closer, letting her cling to him, hiding her behind his figure. It's only when he feels, she is no that tense anymore, he pauses and speaks without even leaning back. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think, this was that exact warmth of touch, you were talking about. And I love it. And crave more if you have any to share and feel like it.” For a few long moments she doesn't move, as if weighing all the pros and cons. Nik lets her take time and closes eyes, silently enjoying the moment, her proximity, her hands, her scent. “If you feel anything, you'd rather not feel - tell me right away.” Her lips brushing against his cheek, as she says it, send shivers down his body. “There is nothing, not a single thing, I'd rather miss, when it comes to you.” He melts under her reserved touch, catches her hands just to press a kiss on a knuckle, leans closer, cups her cheeks to pepper her face with kisses. It's when his lips meet hers once again, he makes her frown, gradually going for a deeper kiss. A wave of his deep earthly scent fills her nostrils, carries her mind away. The outlines of the room blur before her eyes. She doesn't want to think, how much grace of his touch is left there for her, so she loses herself in his hands, letting him wrap her in a tight embrace, gently lower her onto the bed. Hovering over her, he does not allow their bodies to touch, reducing contact to his fingers, tracing lines over her jawline and neck. He stays close enough to share his warmth, but he keeps the minimum distance even when she sinks her fingers in his hair, guiding him closer. He clenches his jaw, keeping his own desires in control. “Patience is such an underrated virtue. I was never the one to practice it bona fide. But I've waited so long for you, I may restrain myself for a few hours more, until there is absolutely no doubts left on your mind.” “...you've waited? Nik, I don't want to disappoint, but there is not much to look forward to.” She leans back against the pillow, letting him go, but he catches her hand. “You never felt lingering gazes, touches, that could definitely last shorter?” He chuckles darkly. “Never assumed, I might have thoughts about you, about what would you feel like? Dear, I dreamt about it, I fantasized, I came to it.” He leans closer for another kiss, and she stops hearing any distant noises, coming from behind her door. There is only his breath, becoming heavy, his deep velvety voice, his heartbeat.

“You will help me stay patient, won't you, dear?” Nikolai dips his head, licks his lips. His pupils are blown wide and dark. He needs her help, if she wants to go slow. There is only one problem: she doesn't. Not when he is that close and his fingers brush against her neck, lightly clasp around her throat for a brief moment and then go on tracing a long line down her collarbone. Not when his breath is hot on her earlobe. Not when he frowns and softly growls every time she squeezes her thighs around his waist.

It is only when there is no more clothes on her, she understands why Nik is so careful and slow: he eases her into the feel of him. But he does it so smoothly, she can't even remember, how he started undressing her. Maybe it's his ‘fixer’ nature, making him insensibly lead his target to any action, any consequence, Nikolai needs. Or maybe he really doesn't want to scare her, to lose her right after he finally got her all to himself. Either way, in the end it is her fluttering her eyes shut, panting and mewling ‘Please, I need you’ clinging to his shirt, that he still doesn't let her unbutton. “In a good time, moe nebo, in a good time, I promise,” he murmurs, caressing her inner thighs, running his fingers over her slick and covering her lips with his to drink on her moans. Her arousal covers his fingers as he presses inside her, thumb tucked against her clit. She tries desperately to be still, to accept anything he might give and not grind against his hand, asking for more friction. “Posmotri na menya, milaya. Mne nuzhni tvoi glaza*.” His pulse is throbbing in his wrist, pushed against her core, making it almost impossible for her to concentrate. Yet she manages to open her eyes, dark with desire. “There's my girl.” He grins, as her whole body tenses, tightens, when he pushes the first digit deeper in. As his deep long thrusts are not enough, he leaves a wet trail of open mouth kisses from her ear to her chest and hovers just adobe her nipples. "You must already hate me for taking so long, poor thing. Just look at you - dripping wet. But there are so many things, I want to do to you, so much time I want to spend on you, so many things, I want to taste on you. I'm enjoying every moment of it and so will you, because I'm going to make sure you come for me, my girl." His hot breath rolls against her skin, while his fingers quicken. She arches her back, barely containing waves of pleasure, taking over her fogged mind. “Sh–h-h, my dear, there is more. So much more out there. I haven't even started, haven't even tased this heaven beneath me.” his gaze roams around her breasts. “You know, there is a certain technique to do that? First you circle it with your tongue,” and his hot wet tongue traces a circle around her nipple, barely touching its edges. “And then, you run the flat of your tongue over it.” Nik doesn't limit it to one touch: his tongue caresses her hardening nipple over and over again, all while his thrusts get bolder. “And only after that you can squeeze it, put it in your mouth…” He does just as he has said, thriving on her tender skin. 

Her toes curl in ecstasy, when he whispers with a tad ragged breath ��let me check, how my precious girl is doing down there’ and pulls his fingers out of her burning hot sleek. Her breath catches in her throat as he savors on her juices, sucking on his fingers. She presses her lips together, but her plaintive sob still reaches his ears. “I'm sorry, my dear, but this tastes so good, I just need more,” Nikolai is cooing, brushing away a lone tear, rolling down her cheek. He keeps covering her body in kisses, slowly moving down. “Wait! You don't need to, this is not necessary, really!” She manages to cover herself just before his lips press against her sex. The kiss is pressed nevertheless. And then another and another one, till his tongue brushes between her fingers, trying to reach out for what Nik is aiming for. He wouldn't stop talking, when he could easily avoid any words at all, but now, when he could really ask - he decided to convince her without words. With a few strokes he slips through her fingers and grunts. “See? No need to hide yourself from me.” He takes her hand and guides it to the back of his head. “Here is something for you to hold on to, dear.” Her mouth falls open as her vision whites out completely, when his tongue drags along her slick and flickers over her clit. He purrs praises, chuckles at her fruitless attempts to control herself, hisses, when she tries to pull him away, but never stops, not for a single moment. His tongue dances on her flesh, as his fingers accompany every movement. Every touch, every single stroke feels absolutely intoxicating. His tight grip on her waist, his warmth, his soft yet persistent touch doesn't help her to stay quiet and reserved. “Don't hold back, my girl, don't even think of holding back with me.” His deep rumbling voice has such a power over her, that she feels her mind spiraling in a dark void of pleasure the next moment, he says that. She doesn't feel other parts of her body, doesn't care for her scars, for callused skin, marked with severe burns. All she feels is her heartbeat throbbing in her pussy, as he is feasting. Her release, irresistible and powerful, washes like a wave down her body. She tries to cover her mouth to not scream, but Nikolai catches her hand in a mid-flight. “Those moans belong to me! No one may steal them from me, not even you, my dear!” He groans, when he finally returns to her lips, as she is still trembling. “I`m sorry, I… I was trying to keep this just between us and not wake up people next door.” She is breathless, so it's a miracle, she manages to answer him.

“Such a greedy girl. Not letting others enjoy her moans. You are afraid that these sounds will get stuck in their heads, provoking them to try to picture you, to fantasize, to get hard or wet with a mere memory of your voice?” Nikolai grins, noticing that he can make her blush even after she came all over his lips and fingers. She looks at him pleadingly, tucking under his shirt, and he finally lets her unbutton it with a nod. “Go on, dear, but don't forget, I have opposite plans. I want them all to hear, how I make you feel. And I'm not turning down on my intentions today, no matter how nicely you ask.”

He gives her complete freedom, lets her do whatever she pleases: be it grazing her teeth along his neck or unbuckling his belt. He doesn't interrupt her and only hisses and clutches the cool fabric of the sheet in his hand to channel a tension, she awakes deep inside him. Her fingers slide down his abdomen and her lips start following down his chest, when Nik catches her, presses closer to his body to let her feel, how desperate he's already for her. “Wait, wait, my dear, not now. I need to be inside you. I need to fuck you. Moe nebo, proshu tebya*.” And she feels him: hot, painfully hard and pulsing under her fingertips. In the back of her head, she understands, this might hurt as now their size difference is more obvious than ever, but at this point, she doesn't care. So when he hovers over her, slowly angling himself, she arches her back, pulling herself closer, not caring for a burning pain accompanying him stretching her. “No, not like that. I said, I'd rather bite my own hand off than hurt you, my girl, and I meant it. Let me guide you.” He brings his lips to hers and goes in for a long kiss. Nik eases into her with gradual thrusts: each next going just a bit deeper. His lips don't leave hers, even when a throaty rumbling sound escapes his mouth. It is one part desperate, one part growl, all encompassing as he finally sinks into her, making her eyes roll back as he gathers her up to him. “I thought I knew, how good would it feel to be inside you… Oh what a fool, what a desperate fool I was. You feel hundred times better than my wildest dreams, dear.” Nikolai whispers, picking up his pace.

If she had any doubts left - there are no more, as her brain seems to short-circuit after he finds a new angle with which she feels every his vein. She gathers all her strength to last as long as she can, to stay focused, to not lose herself, but he doesn't let her. His movements become relentless as he squeezes her hips and presses her closer. “You are stubborn. I like it.” He grins despite a slight tremor in his voice. He freezes for a second, brushes hair out of her face, and leans a little closer to her ear. “You are stubborn, but so. am. I.” Every word is accompanied by a hard push, she mewls, tries to catch his lips, but he leans back. “Tvoi golos, moe nebo, mne nuzhen tvoi volshebnui golos*.” Everything in her body tightens, winding tighter at the request, his body slamming against hers, making her break with a scream. It covers up shameless sloppy sounds, with which he fucks her. She loses sense of time as his throbbing cock doesn't let her climb down to sweet aftershocks after her peak. “Stubborn, but so generous to me, letting me ravish in your moans and clenching around me that tight.” All she knows - her entire body burns with a sensation, she never felt before, when he catches her shoulder in an open mouth kiss growing into a bite as he comes. He doesn't stop, as if dragging her to her peak twice was not enough - even when his body is shaking with a wave of pleasure - he makes his point. He is not backing up until she is fully, completely at his mercy. “Moe. Moe nebo. Tolko moe.*” Her hips tremble with overstimulation and he softens his pace gradually until he barely moves. Nik carefully cups her face and touches her forehead with his lips. No kiss - just a gentle touch, quiet cooing, his voice helping her mind find a way back. He holds her close while she comes to her senses, whispering praises, and doesn't pull out until she lets him. Its only later, when he brings her in shower and runs warm water, cleaning her up, she remembers, why she was afraid of letting him close in the first place. She takes a step back, pressing her back against the wall, but Nikolai immediately shakes his head and pulls her back in his embrace. “No-no-no, don`t. It is my sky, my heaven. Never hide it from me, please.”

***

“Please, promise me one thing.” She whispers in his embrace, as he is holding her close to him, the same way, he held her on the first night after the operation. “Promise me, this wasn't an act of pity. I'll hate myself if you forced yourself to do… all this just of pity.”

“No pity in my heart left for you. Compassion maybe, but no pity.” Nikolai kisses her knuckles and forehead, pulling her closer.

As she slowly drifts to sleep, he looks at the dawn, dimly illuminating the night sky in the window behind her.

“There is no pity left in this heart - only you.”

*Grebanniy pridurok - bloody idiot.

*Ti mozhesh. Moya khoroshaya, ti mozhesh pozvolit sebe podpustit` kogo-to blizhe. Ya skoree sam sebe ruku otgrizu, chem sdelau tebe bolno, moe nebo. Odno slovo, odno slovo i ya ostavly tebya v pokoe. Nikogda ne potrevozhu. No mne nuzhno eto slovo - You can. My dear, you can let yourself let someone closer. I would rather bite off my own hand, than hurt you, my sky/my heaven. One word, one word and I'll leave you alone. Ill never disturb you. But I need your word.

*Posmotri na menya, milaya. Mne nuzhni tvoi glaza - Look at me, dear. I need your eyes.

*Moe nebo, proshu tebya - My heaven, please.

*Tvoi golos, moe nebo, mne nuzhen tvoi volshebnui golos. - Your voice, my heaven, I need to hear it.

*Moe. Moe nebo. Tolko moe. - Mine. My heaven. Only mine.