#it makes sense thinking about it but DAMN | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grimmsbride · 2 days ago

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▒ ❀ ̭͡⠀ ❛ SOME ENCOURAGEMENT. NAM-GYU / PLAYER 124

nam-gyu attempts to recruit beloved, timid reader into thanos’s world. all it takes is a little encouragement.

𖥔 ࣪˖ NOTES, writing smut on company time is actually hilarious, idk why i got this idea during work. but anywho — i hope you enjoy, i tried my hand at his character. as always please ignore any grammar mistakes or typos.

Imagine Nam-Gyu attempting to recruit someone without the advice of his beloved purple-haired leader. Surprising, right? Despite his own issues with inferiority; the ex-club worker just seems to follow behind Thanos like a hungry puppy desperate for a bone— or drugs, for that matter. But no, just this once, Nam-Gyu takes the lead. The numbers are growing closer and even more scarce, fear lacing people’s minds and causing them to hit that dreaded X button. Thanos’s World’s dream is to continue the games to pay off their debts, right?— so it only made sense for Nam-Gyu to turn an X over to the O side.

He couldn’t just pick anyone. Someone far too strong-willed would definitely tell him no, and someone far too weak would just be a curse rather than a blessing.

Who to choose.. Who to choose..

Soon enough the man’s eyes are locking on to you— a contestant he has seen around, yet hasn’t heard much from. Not only were you easy on the eyes but you just seemed like the perfect person to shape into a worthy teammate.

Within minutes he’s approaching you, an easy-going smile in place as your name falls from his lips. Nam-Gyu had heard it said before by someone close to you, another random that he hadn’t bother to think about.

“Yes..?” Your words are slow, lips pursing as you take in the man before you. You were beyond nervous; this was the lackey of that purple-haired lunatic after all. Watching the two fight on the very first day was enough to tell you to avoid them at all costs. Yet here you were, a few feet away from one of them, under his gaze that trailed over you like a pretty piece of jewelry behind a display case.

You couldn’t help but bring your hands closer to yourself, teeth dragging across your cheek nervously.

From your head to your toes, Nam-Gyu’s eyes soon landed on that big red patch residing just under your bosom. With a breathy chuckle he reached over, allowing a single finger to press and trace the X.

“You wanna get out of the games that bad, huh? You voted X twice already.”

Your eyes flicked down to his hand, before traveling back to his face. “Yeah well..” You dragged slowly, watching that harsh gaze return to your features.

“I—I want to get rid of my debts.. but putting my life on the line for it just seems..” You hoped you got your words across perfectly, even without continuing your sentence. Sure, it was hard being hounded for your debts, but death looming over your head just didn’t seem worth it.

Still, Nam-Gyu only shook his head at you, a sigh full of pity escaping his lips.

“Well, that’s where you’re messing up.” Nam-Gyu hummed, stepping just a bit closer, finger still tracing that damned patch. Your attention kept flicking between his face and finger, wondering why exactly warmth was pooling throughout your entire body.

“Worrying too much about dying is what’s gonna get you killed, not anything else.”

Your eyebrows knitted close, a look of confusion plastered across your face. Worrying seemed like the right way to keep yourself alive.. right? Not worrying just seemed, well— stupid. Not that you would say that to his face, obviously.

“I have to disagree..”

Just barely did you hear the sound of the man sucking his teeth, watching the way his face turned to the side, clearly searching for his next few words. You debated on walking away from this conversation, it was clear what his objective was. And whether ordered by Thanos or not, you didn’t really want to know— nor figure out.

Yet for some reason you were practically glued to the spot, blinking up at him and waiting oh, so patiently for his next spiel. And as you watched his face turn back to you, your breath got caught in your throat.

“Okay then.. worry all you want, but you wouldn’t you want someone to look out for you?” Nam-Gyu’s other hand was reaching to your patch at this point, using both thumbs to trace it. “Being on this side, there’s no unity.. it’s every person for themself.”

The two of you locked eyes, a sickeningly sweet smile crossing his face.

“Come with us, and we’ll look after you. I’ll personally see to it too.”

Slowly did your teeth sink into your bottom lip, struggling to maintain the eye contact that he seemed so keen on keeping. The only thing you could hear was your racing heart and the gentle sounds of his thumbs sliding across that red patch. His words were.. tempting. You wondered if he rehearsed what to say, like a video game with multiple endings; did he have it all figured out before he even walked over? Was he so prepared to convert you, using every rejection you had as some silly obstacles the man easily hobbled over?

So caught up in your thoughts, you hardly realized Nam-Gyu had gotten even closer until his breath fanned across your ear in a simple;

I’ll let you think it over, let’s talk again later..

When you thought of later, you initially believed in thirty mins or so. Maybe this time he would bring over his beloved leader to really get the point across. But no, later seemed to be during lights out; when you all should be sleeping, tucked away in the rare bliss these murderous games brought.

And the only talking that was happening was the soft words Nam-Gyu continued to whisper into your ear and the even softer moans of passion that slipped from your swollen lips.

See, Nam-Gyu wasn’t an idiot despite what Thanos seems to think. Quickly he caught on to two things whilst speaking to you.

The first being, you were quite cute when nervous. And two, you just loved looking at his hands.

So what better way to really stretch his point across but using his beloved fingers to stretch you open just how he liked?

“Should have done this from the start, look how cooperative you’re being..” The smile on Nam-Gyu’s face was permanent at this point, the corner of his mouth twitching with each pitiful moan you released. His rings were tossed lazily to the side, his bare fingers now pushing into your sloppy cunt so perfectly. Longer then your own, they pushed and prodded; opening you up and rubbing against your soaked walls. With each breath you were clenching, causing the smile on his face to only grow deeper.

“Scared of dying but not of some stranger finger-fucking you, huh? What a joke.”

You wanted to tell him off, how he was so mean and so wrong. But you couldn’t, not with how your mind was getting complete lost from his movements. Your teeth were grinding into your bottom lip, a metallic taste filling your mouth as time progressed. Deep moans thundered from your throat, muffled by your harsh biting. You couldn’t imagine having your little recruitment interrupted by some poor contestant just trying to get some rest.

But with the way Nam-Gyu was practically ruining you, it didn’t seem he cared much either way. He was so hellbent on coaxing you, his lips right against your ear as that damned thumb came and circled your swollen bud.

“I told you I’d look after you right, where’s my thank you?”

Your eyes widened the moment his free hand rose, pushing at your cheeks and basically forcing your lips to part. The sound you let out was a strangled mix of a moan and gasp, quickly clasping your own hand against your mouth.

Nam-Gyu chuckled on his breath, thrusting a third finger into your wet cunt as he spoke; “What? You scared of the other contestants realizing how much of a slut you are? Shouldn’t worry too much; this messy cunt is making enough noise for you.”

Your eyes were meeting the back of your skull, so fucking mean he was— yet you couldn’t help but enjoy the attention. His digits were curling inside, brushing across that special spot that caused you to shake. Your thighs were clenching harshly around his arm, rushed breaths escaping as your chest rose and fell.

“Th—thank you.. fuck— please…!” You whimpered as softly as you possibly could, glossy eyes staring up at the man. You felt accomplished the moment he drew closer, feeling the cold metal of his chain brush against your heated skin before a gentle kiss was pressed right against your cheek.

“What a good girl.. You wanna come, hm?” The hand was lowering to your throat, fingers simply wrapping around it yet not squeezing. Nam-Gyu watched in pure enjoyment at the way your head tossed back and forth in a rushed nod; how needy you were for him. What a palpable little thing, is what he thought.

“I can make that happen, you just gotta do something for me.”

More words, whispered, tempting; drifting right into your ear and hitting the same pleasurable spots right between your legs. Speaking of, you felt your peak drawing closer; a tight band resting deep in your tummy— ready to burst.

You knew what he wanted, you weren’t an idiot nor were you too fucked out to forget. Your mind was screaming at you, telling you an orgasm wasn’t worth pressing that cursed button.

Yet, for now, you weren’t thinking with your brain, but with your pussy instead.

“P—please let me join! I’ll press the button— I promise!” Another whisper-yell escaped you, desperation clinging to every word as they fled those pretty lips.

With that final confirmation Nam-Gyu was quickening the pace of his fingers, eating up the way your body convulsed, a lost look invading your eyes as you came undone. Your essence trickled down his fingers all the way to his wrist, a sticky residue that he would make sure you clean up later.

For now.. his hand rose from your throat to instead cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb right under your eye so tenderly— so sweetly.

“I knew you could do it.. just needed some encouragement, right?”

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maximumsneakyfoxxo · 2 hours ago

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The darkness is asphyxiating, no light makes it to your eyes, no air reaches your lungs as they burn, yet you sense him through it all; standing just out of reach, watching you with soulless eyes and that damned sharp grin, expectantly waiting for the groveling. His magic was always too strong, no one could stand up to him, that's why you came, you have no intent to win, even if you'd lied to yourself about it before now. "If you don't submit soon you'll die, There's no shame in being outmatched, just give up and I may let you live!" He sounds sickeningly arrogant, so sure of himself and his righteousness. "Everyone else who came died, you knew they were stronger than you are, you knew and you still came here to face me. Why?" Your throat burns, yet your mind wanders despite the sensation, as though trying to find the panic that you should be feeling, any sense of self preservation, any emotion at all really. "Why are you stalling?" The words fall from your mouth before you can think, in a blinding flash you're knocked to your back. A slight wheeze escapes as you slam into the floor; your eyes adjusting to the light, you see him above you, his sneering veneer overtaken by poorly veiled confusion— and maybe something a bit more human? "You're certainly an odd one, most don't have the courage to look me in the eyes anymore" Displeasure tainting his voice, his haughty attitude abandoned as his eyes shift slightly, voids of magic peering into yours as if searching your soul, maybe he is. "No, this isn't courage at all, I see no fire in your eyes, no desire to strike me down, no fear at all." A humourless laugh echoes through his chambers, arms crossing over his chest as he shifts his weight to one side. "I suppose there's only one thing to do" his voice lower, less assertive than before and uncomfortably familiar. You meet his eyes, pools of pure magic stare back, but where once they were dark, now they glow orange, blue, all the colours you'd known and many you couldn't have imagined all flash through his eyes, you see the world in his eyes and for a moment you think that perhaps giving up isn't the best idea after all, if beauty can be found in a being so devoid of ... what exactly? What was this man missing? Everyone he'd killed had hunted him, hadn't they? The thought stops you for a moment, why was this man a monster? You barely notice as he raises his hand, channelling his power; you close your eyes and wait to be reunited with your friends and family, a moment passes and the burning stops, then the pain that you'd known for decades ebbs away and soon after your body feels at peace, perhaps wherever you are now, you can heal. "So-" You're ripped from your thoughts suddenly as your murderer looks down at you, on hand on the back of his neck awkwardly. "I know we just met, but if you'd like I could set you up a meeting with my therapist? They're the best, you control the pace." His voice sounds soft, compassionate and in an embarrassingly long moment, you realize you clearly aren't dead. So what happened to the pain? ... "There's a spare bedroom, you'll probably want to rest. I messed you up pretty bad there." His eyes avoiding yours, a kaleidoscope of magical energies visible in their depths. "Sorry about that by the way." His shrug looks forced and you feel the regret rolling off him in waves. "Why?" Your voice carefully measured, staring him down as you demand answers. "Why not finish me off?" your voice lowers, almost melancholic as you sigh, not even the most powerful mage would give you rest. Or perhaps he simply offered a different form of it, the aura he exudes leaving you with some level of energy, almost enough to feel again, more importantly the things you saw in his magic made you want to and so before he can answer your questions you ask one more "When can I meet them? Your therapist, that is." His smile was the brightest thing in the room.

When the villain demanded that you submit or be destroyed you just apathetically shrugged and braced yourself for death. You were surprised when the villain did not kill you and instead offered you a nice, comfortable room and an appointment with their personal therapist.

#writing prompts #writing inspiration #writeblr #This was just procrastination against sleep ngl

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rafecameronssl4t · 6 hours ago

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Out of my league || Drew Starkey x fem!reader

Summary: Fans have always speculated that Drew was dating someone until he confirmed it in an interview. After digging through Drew's socials, fans stumble upon you, a Yale law student.

Warnings: age gap (r is 23)

Word count: 515

A/n: my absolute dream to study law at Yale, Oxford or Edinburgh 😔😔

MASTERLIST

"Omg!" Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the message from your sister, her excitement practically radiating through the screen. Without hesitation, you tap on the link she attached. It directs you to a fresh, two-minute interview of your boyfriend, Drew, from the red carpet premiere of Queer. The video had been posted mere minutes ago, and your curiosity piqued as you hit play.

The clip begins with Drew stepping confidently into the spotlight, his tailored black suit fitting him perfectly, exuding effortless charm. His neatly styled hair and sharp features gleamed under the intense glow of the camera flashes. Seeing him like this—a star in every sense of the word—made you pause, a proud smile spreading across your lips.

The interviewer, a charismatic host with a warm smile and infectious energy, introduces Drew before diving straight into the conversation. Her tone is laced with both admiration and curiosity. “Drew, you’ve been receiving such incredible praise for your performance in Queer. Tell us, how was the filming process? What was it like working on such a powerful project?”

Drew’s face lights up, his passion evident as he responds. “Oh, it was an amazing experience,” he begins, his deep, smooth voice carrying a sincerity that draws you in. “Getting the chance to work under Luca’s direction and alongside Daniel was an absolute honour. The cast and crew brought so much energy to the set—it really felt like a family by the end of it.”

He pauses briefly, a soft smile gracing his lips, before adding something that makes your breath catch. “What made it even more special was having my family visit during filming. And my girlfriend…” His eyes momentarily shift, a small but noticeable fondness in his expression. “She took some time off from university to spend a couple of months with me on set in Italy. That support meant the world to me.”

Your heart swells with warmth, a mix of pride and affection bubbling to the surface. Drew rarely spoke about his personal life publicly, but when he did, it was always with the kind of sincerity that made you feel like the luckiest person alive. Those two months in Italy had been unforgettable, the perfect escape from the stress of your law studies at Yale.

The interviewer lets out an audible gasp, clearly surprised by Drew’s candid revelation. “Wait, you have a girlfriend? This is definitely news to us.” Drew chuckles softly, nodding. “I do. She’s brilliant. Balancing law school while putting up with me can’t be easy and honestly, I think she's out of my league.” Drew chuckles. Who is this mystery woman? How could someone possibly be out of Drew’s league?

The mystery only fuels the frenzy, and it doesn’t take long for determined fans to track down your Instagram account. Your page, once a space where you documented your life, was now flooded with notifications. Followers pour in by the thousands, combing through your posts for any clue about your connection to Drew. Fans are both shocked and delighted. You’re not what they expected, but in the best way.

y/n_y/l/n just posted a story!

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by drewstarkey and 2,937 others

this months dump!

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yourfriendsusername: 😍😍

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: ily!!

yourfriendsusername: uh oh, ur getting famous…. remember me pls!

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: sorry, who are you 😂

user1: omg so this is Drew’s gf? SHES GORGEOUS

user2: damn she’s hella smart huh?

↘️ user3: DUH SHES IN YALE STUDYING LAW

user4: eh she’s mid

↘️ user5: studying law at one of the ivy league’s is far from being mid lol 😭

user6: she’s been posting him for so long now, how have we only just found this out 😂

user7: so she’s pretty, she’s smart, and she’s bagged Drew Starkey? Damn girl.

user8: now how has she done that

drewstarkey

Liked by y/n_y/l/n, madelyncline, jonathandavissofficial and 9,208,102 others

yeah my gf is cooler than me.

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y/n_y/l/n: Alexa, play Brooklyn Baby by Lana Del Rey 😄

↘️ drewstarkey: volume up, Alexa!

madelyncline: she’s such a smart cookie 😝

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: come see me again gf 😔

↘️ madelyncline: yes ma’am!

jonathandavissofficial: ya’ll cute

↘️ drewstarkey: ur cute

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: what’s going on here?

user1: HE FINALLY POSTED HER!

user2: can’t wait for more gf appreciation posts 😆

user3: how has a uni student bagged Drew Starkey

user4: first pic. sleeping on the road tn.

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: pls don’t 🙏

↘️ user5: AHH SHE REPLIED TO U

↘️ user6: ur so lucky to call Drew ur man

↘️user7: nah, he’s acc my man

user8: as if we acc thought this majestic man was single 😭

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smilesatdawnmain · 3 days ago

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Taken Reverse Au (Wukong's Rage)

Since I’m taking my sweet time to get to this Moment in Taken- here, you can have an example for Taken Reverse~

——

There had been a split in the mountain.

A split that had twisted the land and left it in shambles, spurred by the rage on a single individual.

“Dad-” MK choked, struggling to keep his arm around his Father’s bicep, his feet digging into the floor below. He was dragged, leaning back a tad in hopes to give some leverage to stopping his father. “Dad, wait!”

The King would hear no protest. Not when he knew. Not when he NOW knew.

A confirmation with the Diyu, an admission from the man he considered his Brother, and he now knew.

He did not have one son, but two.

Twins.

One of his cubs was at his side, feebly trying to stop him as he stormed into the sewers of Megopolis, his eyes a burning red. His cub. To know that there had been another this whole time, and held in the hands of- of Spiders.

His eyes were aglow as he entered the sewers, the stench of decay and waste assaulting his nostrils. But the King paid it no mind. His focus was singular, his rage all-consuming.

"Dad, please!" MK pleaded again, his voice echoing off the damp walls. "You're not thinking straight!"

The King’s steps formed small cracks with each step. Not thinking straight? He’d never seen clearer in his life! MK’s brother—his twin—had been kept from them. From him! By those... those arachnids! By the damned Spider Queen!

Of course she knew! She must have! Nezha had-

God’s, his brother had confessed when Wukong pressed about it. In tears and on his knees he bowed before him, face against the ground. He admitted to his crimes.

“I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry..!”

Wukong thought he was joking- a cruel and unfunny hole, until Nezha whimpered “There is a reason your son is always getting sick with no cause or explanation.”

It was twisted.

It was unlike Nezha.

Stealing his own child with the intent to kill, but being unable to go through with it, leaving him to the care of humans. That alone was enough to make Wukong’s legs tremble and his stomach lurch. It hurt.

Gods it hurt!

He did not kill Nezha where he stood. Somehow he stilled his hand. Somehow he stepped back, less he scream or cry, or do both.

But he couldn’t linger there another moment longer. Such feelings he would have to deal with later. He had to focus on what was infront of him.

His second child.

Nezha had lost track of the child, he explained. The glamor he had put on the cub to keep him safe in disguise had broken- and the child was lost to his senses until years later, when he emerged as the right hand of the Spider Queen.

Seeing how she was using his energies to power her army- he knew he had to take action. Knew it wouldn’t be long before Heaven realized too and would get to the cub long before Wukong could.

Spider Queen.

She had been using him. Manipulating him to steal for her. Do wrong for her. He had rushed home to let his Mate know, but Mihou was out at the time. He sent a clone to fetch his mate, but had found MK instead.

His Son was clutching the very enblem of the woman who had stolen from them.

When he demanded why MK had such a thing, he explained about his friend.

Xiaozhizhu.

That was the child’s name. Little Spider.

MK had seemed unaware, only stilling when his Father’s expression grew darker. The grounds around them shook from his unkempt rage- cracking until it spit right below their feet. Wukong had never had to reel in such rage in his life, and had ultimately failed to keep it in check before he was charging to the City, MK hot on his tail in a panicked confusion.

Terrified that somehow Xiaozhizhu had angered his Father to the point he was heading right there. “Dad-! He isn’t a bad person, I promise!” No, not at all! He was going down the wrong path, yes, but he could turn around! He was sweet and smart! Fun!

Lonely…

MK had been so close lately to convincing XiaoXiao to even join him on some heroing. To give it a try and see that there was so much good he could do with his powers! He had even been getting along better with Red Son and Mei- Who had agreed to try due to their friendship with MK.

MK also had been working on getting Xiaoxiao to visit the mountain soon- to see some Monkey heritage. Since the guy had never really even talked to other demon monkey’s before, MK had hoped this could help him reconnect with his roots- whatever those were.

The King's pace quickened, his footsteps echoing louder through the dank tunnels. MK stumbled, nearly losing his grip on his father's arm.

"Dad, please listen! Xiaoxiao isn't—" he paled as the tunnels began to change, shifting from sewers systems to a metal lined opened cave system. The Spider Queen’s domain. Spiders, small and creepy were scurrying off the walls at the sight of the two Monkeys.

MK shrieked, clinging to his Father now to keep pace with him. He hated Spiders!

The King's nostrils flared as the scent grew stronger. His eyes darted around, searching for any sign of movement, any hint of his lost son. It stunk of the Spider Queen in here.

"Show yourselves!" he growled, his voice reverberating off the metal walls. The King pressed on, his feet leaving scorched imprints on the floor. From the shadows, alarmed at the intruder, large Spider demons were dropping to the floor, their eyes gleaming green.

Despite their barred fangs and sharpened claws, their hands trembled. Never had they expected for the Monkey King himself to wander in unannounced. His eyes flared at the sight of them, a few recoiling. One, who MK recognized aa the Huntsman, growled back.

"You dare trespass in our domain, Monkey King?" the Huntsman snarled, his eight eyes narrowing. "Leave now, or face the consequences!"

The King's response was a deafening roar that shook the very foundations of the lair. Several of the spider demons scurried back, the Huntsman even stumbling. His eyes were wide, petrified.

MK's eyes darted between his father and the spiders, his heart racing. "Dad, please-“ he tried to smile, struggling, “We can talk about this.”

But the King was beyond reason. With a flick of his wrist, a gust of wind was surging through the area, his eyes golden and gleaming. The spider demons recoiled further, their bravado crumbling in the face of the Monkey King's unbridled fury.

"Where is he…?" The King's words were slow, deliberate, each syllable dripping with barely contained rage.

The Huntsman, despite his fear, stood his ground. "We don't know what you're talking about, Monkey King. Whoever you seek is not here—"

"LIAR!" The Monkey King's roar shook the cavern, causing loose rocks to rain down from above. MK ducked his head, leaning against his Father to avoid such things. The King’s tail easily lifted above his child’s skull, blocking any debris from grazing him. MK had never-

He was wheezing, staring at the chaos in quiet shock. He had read the books, heard the stories, but his Dad was- he was the Monkey King yes, but perhaps it was only know that he truly realize- He was the Monkey King.

The Huntsman was scurrying back, “I-I swear, I don’t-” he felt his life flashing before his eyes when the King stepped closer. A shadow over his expression, looking more beast then man or monkey. MK had let go of his arm then, standing limply behind him.

There was no strength in his fingers against such- such power.

As the Monkey King advanced, the air crackled with energy. The metal walls began to warp and bend under the pressure of his power. The spider demons cowered, their legs trembling beneath them.

"Dad..." MK's voice was barely a whisper, lost in the cacophony of his father's rage.

Suddenly, a new voice cut through the chaos. "What's going on here?"

All eyes turned to the source, many relieved to see their glorious Queen. Her hair was down, dressed in the comfortability of a silken robe.

“Our Queen!” the spiders chorused, rushing to hide behind her. She gave them a small frown, wishing her minions were just a tad more useful.

The Spider Queen's eyes narrowed as she took in the scene before her. The Monkey King, radiating power and fury, his son cowering behind him, and her minions trembling in fear. She straightened her posture, chin held high as she addressed the intruder.

"Well well well. Sun Wukong in the flesh," she said, her voice cool and collected. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this... unexpected visit?"

The Monkey King's eyes flashed dangerously. "You know why I'm here," he said coldly, taking a step towards her. The metal floor beneath his feet groaned.

The Spider Queen's lips curled into a smirk, her eyes gleaming with amusement. She batted her eyes lashes with the ease of someone who had nothing to fear. "I'm afraid I don't, dear Monkey King. Perhaps you could enlighten me?"

"My son," Wukong snarled, his voice reverberating through the cavern. "The child you stole from me. Where is he?"

For a moment, surprise flickered across the Spider Queen's face, quickly replaced by a mask of indifference. "Your son? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. The only monkey child I know of that is yours is the one cowering behind you right now.” she gestured a finger to him. MK flinched at her gesture, his stomach dropping. His mind was reeling.

Son?

What was his Father talking about? The Spider Queen's words hung in the air, heavy with implications. MK's mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of information. His father's rage, the mention of a stolen child, and now this denial from the Spider Queen—it was all too much to process.

"Don't play games with me, Princess," Wukong growled, his voice low and dangerous.

“I am all for a good game, as you know, but this is not one of those times.” she walked around him, her steps measured, “The only child here that I could think of- is my own. MY little prince,” she touched her chest, a tad possessive in her tone.

The Monkey King's eyes flashed with a dangerous light. "Your prince?" he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "You dare claim him as your own?"

The Spider Queen's smirk only widened. "Of course I do. He IS mine. I raised him, nurtured him, named him. He is mine in every way that matters."

MK's eyes widened. Xiaoxiao-?

No… No wait wait, that didn’t make sense. What were these two talking about. Xiaozhizhu was a monkey yes but he- he wasn’t…

He was the spitting image of his Baba.

His eyes, his smile-

MK felt sick suddenly, teetering to keep upright.

Xiaoxiao was his other half. Why was that? Why did he have this connection to a Monkey he had no blood relation to? Unless… there was a relation?

The Monkey King's fury reached a fever pitch. The metal walls of the cavern began to groan and buckle under the pressure of his power. "You lie!" he roared, his voice shaking the very foundations of the lair. "He is my son, my blood! You had no right to take him!"

The Spider Queen's composure faltered for a moment, her eyes darting to the trembling walls. She took a step back, her voice losing some of its earlier confidence. "I... I didn't take anyone, Monkey King. The child came to me, lost and alone.” a fire sparked in her eyes. Of course, when the glamor had been removed from his neck to reveal his true self- it took only a single examination of his soul by a trusted Doctor to trace the power back to one “Liu’er Mihou”.

The mate of Sun Wukong, the Monkey King. It took very little to piece it together. Though, even after all these years, the Spider Queen had yet to understand why things were this way.

Why the child was abandoned.

Why the King would toss away his heir.

When she realized he had another, one far more powerful and physically capable then Xiaozhizhu, she could only assume they kept the strong and tossed away the weak. A weak link she would gladly take as her own for future profit.

Only now did she consider something else far beyond her control had occurred during this all. A third party at work. Not that it mattered.

The Monkey King's eyes flashed with a mixture of pain and rage. "Lost and alone?" he snarled, his voice cracking slightly. "Because he was taken from us!"

MK's head was spinning. The implications of what he was hearing were staggering. Xiaoxiao... his friend, the boy he'd been trying so hard to steer towards a better path... was his brother? His twin?

The Spider Queen's eyes narrowed, "Taken? I was under the impression he was... discarded." She sneered.

Wukong lunged for her. She quickly ducked to the right, grimacing as he tore the wall behind her asunder.

The Spider Queen's words held in the air, heavy and poisonous. MK felt his breath catch in his throat, his eyes darting between his father and the arachnid monarch.

"Discarded?" Wukong's voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried more venom than any shout. "You dare suggest I would abandon my own child?!"

The Spider Queen's eyes narrowed, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. "Then explain, Monkey King, why your son was alone, lost, and without any trace of your protection when I found him." she stood, tossing her hair over her shoulder. ‘I am the one who nursed him to health when he fell ill. I am the one who he clung to when he took his first steps. That child knows nothing but these walls.” she gave a little tilt of her head. "I am his everything.” she held her arms out. “And you? You are nothing to that boy. And sugar~” she smirked, “He’s been quite useful.”

The Monkey King's fury reached a new height, his golden eyes blazing with an otherworldly light. The very air around him crackled with energy, causing the spider demons to cower further back.

"You..." Wukong's voice crackling with venom. "You took advantage of my son's vulnerability. You twisted him, used him for your own gain. You KNEW he was mine and you used that!"

The Spider Queen's smirk sharpened. "I gave him purpose, direction. Something you clearly failed to do."

“Watch your words!” he stepped closer.

“Or what?” she challenged. “You don’t seem to get it, do you? Do you?” she sneered. That child was her little Prince, her greatest thief, and her greatest assets for more than one reason.

To him, the “Monkey King’ was a stranger. Anything he even dared to do- it would not be met with understanding like one of his own kin.

And she was going to use this kid for every drop he was worth. His essence already powered so much of her machines. Even if he lacked in the power his Father had, it was more than enough.

He was so similar to his Baba after all.

Blindly loyal. And horribly naive.

A silly boy… but still her’s. And she wasn’t just hanging him over.

The Monkey King's eyes flashed dangerously, his fists clenched at his sides. "You underestimate the bond between father and son," he growled. "No matter what lies you've fed him, blood calls to blood. He will know me."

The Spider Queen laughed, a cold, mocking sound that echoed through the cavern. "Oh, you poor, deluded monkey. Do you really think he'll welcome you with open arms? No~ He’s Mine now.” she spat at his feet, “And you are never getting him back.”

The Monkey King's rage exploded. With a primal roar, he lunged at the Spider Queen, his fist connecting with the metal wall where her head had been a split second before. The impact sent shockwaves through the entire lair, causing chunks of debris to rain down from above.

She grunted, spinning to the side and zipping into the air using a web. As the area delved in chaos, MK screamed.

"Dad, stop! Please!" He cried out, his voice barely audible over the chaos. This wasn’t the way to do this!! But his father was beyond reason, consumed by a fury unlike anything MK had ever witnessed.

Wukong was right on her heels. The Spider Queen's eyes widened in alarm as she realized the true extent of the Monkey King's power. She swung frantically from web to web, barely staying ahead of his furious attacks. The lair shook violently with each missed blow, metal twisting and crumpling like paper.

"Where is he?!" Wukong roared, his voice echoing through the caverns. "Tell me where my son is!"

MK watched in horror as his father tore through the lair, leaving destruction in his wake. The spider demons scattered in panic, fleeing deeper into the tunnels.

There were sparks of gold- the King moving faster then most eyes could follow. In an eruption of sparks he and the Queen were slamming against the ground, his hand wrapped around her throat.

The Spider Queen gasped for air, her eyes wide with genuine fear as the Monkey King's grip tightened around her throat. The metal floor beneath them buckled and warped, creating a crater around their impact point.

"I'll ask you one last time," Wukong growled, his voice low and dangerous, his other hand reeled back to deliver a final blow, "Where. Is. My. Son?"

The Queen clawed at his hand, her voice barely a whisper. "I... don't... know..." That wasn’t a lie. He was out at the moment. The child had been disappearing on a whim more and more- of course at the most inopportune times.

“Not good enough!” The King- The Monster, tightened his grip, feeling bones threatening to give way below him.

He would have crushed her throat had it not been for a piercing shriek behind him. His boy, MK, was pleading, "Dad, stop!" MK screamed, his voice cracking with desperation. "You're going to kill her!"

The Monkey King froze, his fist mere inches from the Spider Queen's face. For a moment, the only sound in the cavern was the Queen's ragged breathing and the distant echo of falling debris.

Slowly, Wukong turned his head to look at his son. MK stood there, tears streaming down his face, his body trembling. "Please, Dad," he whispered, "This isn't you. This isn't right." he couldn’t recognize this man in front of him. Where was his Father at? Where had his hero gone? Who was this that he was looking in the eye right now?

The Monkey King's eyes flickered, a hint of recognition breaking through the haze of rage. His grip on the Spider Queen's throat loosened slightly, but he didn't release her entirely.

"Xiaotian..." he breathed, his voice hoarse and unfamiliar.

MK took a tentative step forward, his hands outstretched in a placating gesture. "Dad, I know you're hurting. I know you're angry. But this... this isn't the way." He swallowed hard, fighting back more tears. "What would Baba say if he saw you like this?"

What would Mihou say?

Would he be right here with him, ready to end this woman’s life, or would he be uncaring for such poultry demons? Would his entire focus be on just finding their lost child- while avoiding traumatizing their little star?

The Monkey King's grip loosened further, his eyes losing some of their dangerous glow. The mention of his mate seemed to pierce through the fog of rage, bringing him back to himself. He looked down at the Spider Queen, still gasping for air beneath him, then back at MK's tear-streaked face.

"Xiaotian," Wukong said again, his voice softer now, tinted with regret. Opening his mouth to say more, a strange sensation came to his hand- a sharp sucking sensation, loosening his grip to the Spider Queen.

He whipped back to her, finding her form dropping into the very ground below. His eyes were wide, knowing such a trick anywhere. How could he not?

The shadows….

Was his Moon here? Had his clone found Mihou and drawn his mate here?

It was enough questions for him to hesitate long enough for the portal to close and the Queen to be gone from his judgement.

The shadows yes… but something was different about. Frowning and confused, he heard MK

“Xiaoxiao-” he was choking.

Wukong turned sharply back to his son, but the boy was not looking at him anymore. His tear stained face was angled at the side tunnel, wide.

Wukong followed MK's gaze to the side tunnel, his heart skipping a beat. There, partially hidden in the shadows, stood a young monkey demon. His fur was a rich light golden color, his eyes a familiar shade of amber. He was thin and wiry, dressed in dark clothes that blended with the shadows. A small spider emblem glinted on his chest.

By the gods, he was beautiful. His face was Mihou’s in every way- his eyes, his eyes brows, that little dimple on his cheek- the mark on his face.

This was him.

This was his boy.

The Child’s eyes were wide, his extended hand lowering a tad to show it had been him who has summoned the shadow just now, whisking away the Queen- his Mother, to safety.As he took in the scene before him - the destroyed lair, destroyed home, the cowering spider demons, and the imposing figure of the Monkey King- he inhaled sharply.

"Xiaoxiao," MK whispered, taking a hesitant step towards his friend - his brother.

The Monkey King's breath caught in his throat. Time seemed to stand still as he gazed upon the son. Emotions warred within him - joy, sorrow, regret, and a fierce, protective love that threatened to overwhelm him.

Then the cub spoke it was a sharp hissing sound that made him jolt, “What have you done?”

The Monkey King's heart clenched at the accusation in his son's voice. He took a tentative step forward, his hands outstretched in a placating gesture. "It’s you-," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion.

The child’s eyes widened, a mix of fear and confusion flashing across his face. He took a step back, his tail wrapping protectively around his leg. "Stay back!" Xiaozhizhu hissed, his voice trembling. He raised his hands defensively, dark energy swirling around his fingertips. His home- everything was destroyed…

His eyes kept flickering to MK. Why was he here?? Why was he just standing there and letting this happen?

The Monkey King's face fell, pain etching deep lines around his eyes. His ears flattened, the mighty King from a moment ago falling into a small and delicate whimper. “I-It’s- it’s hard to explain but-” he looked this boy up and down. His lower lip was trembling. This was his baby.

His knees were buckling.

Gods- what was he- he doing? How did he look to his child right now?

MK was blubbering, his eyes wide with panic as he felt the sharp sensations from his other half. The pain, the fear- the accusational anger that was growing, “X-Xiaoxiao wait, please. Let me explain,” he stammered, rushing to take his hand.

Xiaozhizhu flinched away from MK's outstretched hand, his eyes narrowing. MK made a sharp whimpering sound, his quivering at how sharp that denial felt to his chest. "Explain? Explain what? Why you're here with... with him?" He gestured sharply at the Monkey King, his voice rising. "Why my home is in ruins?"

The Monkey King took another hesitant step forward, his voice soft and pleading. "Please, son. I know this must be confusing, but if you'll just listen—"

"What did you just call me?!" Xiaozhizhu snapped, dark energy crackling around his hands. “I ain’t no “SON” of yours??”

Wukong opened and closed his mouth, speechless. “I…” he choked. He didn’t know how to explain. He didn’t know where to start. He felt such fear but such- he was dazed. This boy was as beautiful as MK was. With them standing side by side he could see it- same nose. Same way they carried themselves.

"Xiaoxiao, please," MK pleaded, his voice cracking. "I know this looks bad, but you have to listen. He's... he's our father."

Xiaozhizhu's eyes widened, then narrowed dangerously. "What are you talking about? I don't have a father. I have a mother, and you—" he glared at the Monkey King, "—just tried to kill her!" if he hadn’t come when he had she might have been- He couldn’t bare to think it. She wasn’t exactly Mom of the year, but she was still his Mom. He would have nothing without her.

The Monkey King flinched as if struck. "No, that's not... I didn't mean to..." he trailed off.

Xiaozhizhu's eyes flashed with anger. "You didn't mean to?! Look around you!" He gestured wildly at the destruction surrounding them. "You tore apart my home! You attacked my family!"

The Monkey King took a shaky step forward, his hands outstretched pleadingly. "Please, you have to understand. We're your-“ his voice was small, “- family. You were taken from us when you were just a baby. I am your Father,” the words came out groggy and pained. He put his hand to his chest, eyes so wide and pooling with guilt and joy.

Xiaozhizhu shook his head vehemently, backing away. What the FUCK where these people on right now? When MK tried to grab his hand again he slashed at him. “Don’t touch me!!”

MK recoiled, Xiaozhizhu flinching to realize he had almost struck him. His other half…

N-No he didn’t want that but-

This was too much. They weren’t making sense. His emotions- and then MK’s- it was jumbled. It was overflowing and making it hard to breathe. He wanted it to stop.

It was suffocating!

“Stop talking-” he wanted to cover his ears.

"Xiaoxiao, please!" MK cried out, his voice desperate. "I know this is a lot, but it's true. We're brothers - twins!"

Xiaozhizhu's eyes darted between MK and the Monkey King, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. This couldn't be happening. It had to be some kind of trick, some elaborate scheme. "No," he whispered, shaking his head. "No, you're lying.” his hands shot up to his ears, his chest heaving with panicked breaths. This couldn't be real. It had to be some kind of nightmare.

The Monkey King took another step forward, his eyes brimming with tears. "Son, please. I know this is hard to believe, but—"

"I said STOP!" Xiaozhizhu screamed, dark energy exploding outward from his body. The force of it sent MK and the Monkey King stumbling backward, debris swirling around them.

Xiaozhizhu's eyes glowed with an eerie purple light, his fur standing on end. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I want no part of it!" His voice echoed. He hand lashed out, and the two were sent skidding a few more feet. MK clawed at the floor to keep himself rooted there.

The Monkey King's eyes widened in a mixture of awe and concern. His son's power was raw, untamed, and tinged with something dark. It reminded him painfully of his own rages from centuries past. He had Mihou’s energy, his shadows…

“I-I’m sorry-” he stammered. Gods. Centuries past? No… no he was still making those mistakes here and now.

Chunks of metal and rock lifted from the ground, orbiting him like a chaotic asteroid field. His eyes, now glowing an intense purple, fixed on the Monkey King. "You destroyed everything," he snarled, his voice distorted and echoing. “You’ll pay for this, Monkey King.” his firey gaze locked on MK. Hurt and rage swirling together. “Monkey Kid,”

He was stepping back, to the shadows behind him. MK yelped and pleaded, rushing to stop him from leaving. “No no, Xiaozhizhu-!”

The shadows swirled around Xiaozhizhu, enveloping him in darkness. MK lunged forward, his hand outstretched, but he was too late. His fingers grasped at empty air as his brother vanished into the void.

"No!" MK cried, falling to his knees. He pounded his fists against the ground, tears streaming down his face. "Xiaoxiao, come back!"

The Monkey King stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the spot where his long-lost son had disappeared. The weight of what had just transpired crashed down upon him.

MK was sobbing, grasping at the empty wall. His sobs echoed through the destroyed lair, his shoulders shaking as he pressed his forehead against the cold metal. The Monkey King stood motionless behind him, his face a mask of shock and grief. He fell to his knees, cursing himself

What had he done..?

Suddenly, the shadows on the wall began to ripple and shift. MK's head snapped up, his tear-filled eyes widening with hope. "Xiaoxiao?" he whispered.

A figure emerged from the darkness then, but it wasn't Xiaozhizhu. Instead, a tall, slender monkey demon stepped out, smelling of sweet plums and home. The Six Eared Macaque.

MK openly wailed at the sight of him, rushing to toss himself into his Baba’s arms. “Baba…!” At once Macaque was drawn to the sounds of his baby’s tears, his arms wrapping around MK. He soothed the child against him.

“I’m here, Moon Drop.” He did not know what had transpired as his Son melted against his arms and openly cried, but he was here now. It had been… quite the trip here after Wukong’s clone arrived. Speaking things that couldn’t possibly be true.

Yet here he stood, in the Spider Queen’s domain, with nothing but a sobbing child, the ruins of a lair, and his husband flat on his knees, looking like he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. No spiders in sight. No Queen snickering.

And no lost child…

“…I got here too late, it seems,” he whispered quietly. So he held MK instead, focusing on him to fix one little piece at a time.

————

BOOM

Take this! This is just- it was in my brain and I needed an outlet! I got no clue where this au is going but for those who are curious, 🧐 I gift it to you.

#lego monkie kid #lmk #reverse taken au #lmk wukong #shadowpeach #lmk macaque #xiaoxiao #lmk mk #writing #spider demons~#spider queen

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agnireed · 1 day ago

Text

THINGS UNSAID

summary 🏹 others notice what you and daryl feel for eachother but it takes longer for the connection to reach the two of you.

word count 🏹 4.8k

warnings 🏹 large age gap, side character POVs at the start, smut lol

thanks to @irisdixon1023 for the fun idea! hope i did it justice even if i changed somethings

There were plenty of events that you had found yourself in the background of throughout the apocalypse.

You’d had to put things together at the drop of an eye because there were some questions you just didn’t ask. You didn’t need to be told the new man approaching camp was Carl’s father, evident enough by the way his mouth dropped open and Lori’s eyes flashed with hot fear and betrayal.

That unfolded in your mind exactly the same way as when you saw Shane come back from the woods with a busted nose and a manic look so intense it almost took your breath away, something cold and knowing settling in your gut but not quite strong enough for you to accuse him of planning anything.

You never put much thought into how you might come across to somebody just observing new people you’ve met on the road that might be making their own judgements on you. The end of the world had brought one relief and that was from the constant thought about your own presentation and what a stranger might think of you.

These already drawn conclusions were exactly the reason you were so confused with yourself for being so absorbed with why the red headed man kept glancing in your direction.

Truthly Abraham had never been somebody who bothered sugarcoating his words and pretending to be something he was not and that included being the type of person who was extremely curious about a certain dynamic he had seen unfolding in front of him.

He had only spent a few hours with you in the train car but he had managed to make a damn near solid case if he did say so himself and he was juggling with how much it was being challenged as soon as a few more bodies were thrown into the mix.

Both of you had looked worse for wear when his team found you alongside the gravely road, Glenn barely standing upright as they approached and then fully face planting the asphalt while you stared at him with a look that seemed to be a mixture of exhaustion and determination.

You kept your sentences short and sweet while Glenn was unconscious and you climbed into the back of the large truck but Abraham had a hard time being upset about your lack of manners considering you’d clearly been through hell's asshole before they had arrived.

His plans continued to be derailed and you proved to be a serious pain in the behind but he had felt strongly enough about his people reading to assume that you were one of two things, either just a bit slow emotionally or completely in love with the man you were traveling with.

Of course he felt only a bit disgruntled when said man actually woke up and spoke only of a loving wife that he clearly would stop at nothing to find in a very large haystack but then that could explain the heartbroken look you wouldn’t stop carrying around.

It made full sense to him that you were in love with a taken man and so desperately that you were willing to risk your life to help him be happy with somebody else so he was now fully offended when he offered this idea to Glenn one night after you’d fallen asleep, just for him to laugh in his face.

Then you had been thrown into the traincar and you suddenly took on a heavy expression of grief, like you had only just now accepted you were not going to find whatever it was that you were looking for. He had figured beforehand that you had lost someone permanently but apparently you had a mission of your own.

When the doors were opening again, this time he was happy to be an observer.

The two men entering the car looked equally as deadly as you had standing on that road side and ready to go to war for your friend's limp body and he almost pieced together they were a part of your larger group before any of you actually had turned to notice them.

Everybody tensed at the same time and then it felt like the air in the train car suddenly got much lighter.

You’d barely looked at the bearded man that seemed to automatically capture everybody's attention first, almost like they were waiting for him to give them a command before they even processed he was standing in front of them again.

Your eyes were stuck on someone else entirely and he was happy to finally have some entertainment after being sat next to a mumbling Eugene for far too many hours.

He didn’t need a lick of guessing to know what type of man the second was and he almost wanted to have his guard farther up if it wasn’t for the young boy beside him, peering around with big scared eyes. (Plus the fact he had come to respect you and the sight of you staring like the rugged man had hung the stars was good enough reason to relax).

The bearded man seemed to finally notice you standing there and he gave you an overwhelmingly fatherlike look, seeming like he wanted to pull you into a hug but deciding against it for reasons Abraham couldn’t quite figure out just yet.

His counterpart didn’t have the same problem and you let out a sob when he finally looked over to you, his entire tense frame melting like a little kid as he stumbled his way through the dark train car so he could fall against you.

You cradled his head like it was the single most important thing in the world and your friends around you seemed like they were suddenly walking on eggshells to avoid disturbing you and making you pull out of the emotional moment.

First assumption was that you were related in some way but that quickly faded when he noticed the way the man had his hands low on your back, squeezing and pulling you closer and closer like he could feel you slipping through his fingers.

There was nothing overtly romantic about it and certainly not sexual, not with the way you sobbed harder seeing his bruised face and sullen expression, but it definitely was too close for comfort if you were father and daughter adjacent.

Second assumption was gone as fast as it came, absolutely not lovers judging by the way you were quick to stumble out of his grasp as soon as you noticed Maggie and Glenn watching curiously, his hands lingering but eventually having to fall back to his side once you were out of reaching distance.

You made haste to hug the young boy and distract yourself from the blatant showcase of something that most likely was a secret, both to each other and the others but possibly to yourselves.

The man didn’t take his eyes off of you the entire time you all sat there devising a plan and you sobbed like a woman scorned when they were throwing flash bangs inside the car before dragging him away, having to send a swift kick to your ribs to get you to let go of his arm.

Abraham observed a scary switch in you now that he was gone again and the small almost fragile girl from before was once again replaced with the silent and constantly armed one, all emotions stripped down to your bare bones until you were left with instinct alone.

He kept watching your group during the days that followed the fall of Terminus, building up his strongly held opinions on each of them individually and then again in pairs and larger clumps. He couldn’t help the fact that you and Daryl struck his interest, boredom taking over for the most part although Rostia had told him he needed to get a better hobby.

It was impossible not to wonder now that he knew more about the two of you, although he’d yet to speak to your male counterpart. There was a large part of him that figured it wouldn’t end too pleasantly and he was halfway busy with sucking up to you all so you’d accompany him to the end of the line for Eugene and the cure.

So he didn’t pick a fight with the archer although he wasn’t sure you would have allowed it anyways.

You were small in size but he had managed to get a few glimpses of what you could do with rage and a blunt wooden stick alone back at Terminus so he wasn’t particularly interested in seeing how you fared with a knife.

You were constantly next to Daryl and it was almost a foreign sight to see one of you without the other, a strange feeling settling over anyone whenever you’d wander in alone or the rare times he went hunting without you.

There was a glint in your eye whenever somebody talked to you, like you were ready to pounce on your own family members if you needed to just to keep the man next to you safe at all cost. He was halfway to asking Maggie if you had been like that before you were separated or if it was a new adjustment but he decided against it when he saw her fondly holding Rick’s baby.

He was finding it a bit ridiculous that there were so many moving parts in your poorly oiled machine yet it was running smoothly and, not only that, but you actually seemed to love and care about each other beyond means of survival.

Abraham decided it wasn’t any of his business anymore as soon as he ruled you and Daryl off the list of potential people who would come along on his mission, pushing you to the back of his mind to will off any distractions.

_____

Maggie had always known there was something lingering deep in you for the older man but she was quickly realizing she didn’t know the half of it apparently because the way you gripped onto him for dear life was extremely telling.

She was already surprised enough that you had practically leapt into his arms but what really struck her was how willing he was to fold over into you and meet your sobs with cries of his own.

She knew Daryl was more than what he looked like, more than what he even said most of the time but that still didn’t mean he was ever this open and vulnerable around any of them before. Even Rick sent her a thrown off look that she fought hard in the few seconds it lasted to try and understand.

Your mood had been sour for the time it took you all to find Terminus after reuniting her and Glenn but there were a thousand things she would’ve guessed as the cause of it before assuming you were mourning Daryl Dixon.

Maybe she had been blinded by her own worries and the blossoming of her love so she didn’t pay attention to the signs or maybe they were just new but they were impossible to ignore now although every one seemed to be trying their very best.

Did he always hand you your portion of food first, followed by sneaking bites of his own onto your plate when you both pretended you weren’t watching him do it?

Had it always been almost instinct that you would fall asleep next to each other, never touching but close enough to touch if you ever just reached out? She was thinking now that she wasn’t sure you slept the entire time you spent on the tracks, always awake on a watch shift when she drifted off and staring into the dying fire by the time she opened her eyes again.

Yet you seemed to have no problem drifting off with your head on Daryl’s shoulder.

When did Daryl stop flinching under your touch and since when were you so touchy anyways? Your hands were almost constantly rubbing up and down his arm or holding onto his wrist like you were stopping him from leaving except he didn’t seem to ever be going anywhere, not from you at least.

She wondered if you always looked so calm and gentle when peering up at him or if that was also a new development. She couldn’t read his gaze back down on you and she wasn’t really sure she wanted to, feeling guilty about her silent spying.

Glenn told her that it wasn’t a big deal and everybody people watched but he also denied seeing anything between the two of you so either he was lying to make her feel better or he simply wasn’t watching hard enough.

There wasn’t anything wrong with the age difference in her mind but she still occasionally caught Rick sending the two of you glances and she almost hoped it was just his fatherly urge to protect you like he always had.

_____

You could tell something had changed between you and Daryl but you weren’t too focused on defining whatever it was.

He had always been the number one person you paid attention to and you couldn’t stop thinking about him your entire stay at the prison but the pain of losing him and thinking it was for forever was clearly the push you needed to never let him forget this again, even though you hadn’t told him directly.

There was no way he didn’t know how you felt when you stared into his eyes and kept your hand on his chest, whispering lowly how happy you were for him to be back with you. He would have to truly be the dimmest person in the world to think your reaction to seeing him again was just a fluke or you not thinking straight.

Daryl must be aware of how you feel because you don’t think he would risk treating you the way he did if he didn’t.

He was sweet to you and doted on you like you were already lovers and his favoritism was apparent to anybody who paid attention for more than a few minutes. He remained as gruff and abrasive as always but he let you brush the hair from his face and his tone sounded far sweeter aimed towards you.

You knew he had feelings for you and you also knew he wouldn’t let you in on that secret unless he suspected you felt similarly.

“Couldn’t even breathe.” You had found yourself outside the stuffy church together again, somewhere just off in the treeline and leaning against a thick tree stump.

His back was pressed into the bark but your own was against his chest, sat on the drying leaves between his spread legs and laying back on him, his hands resting skillfully next to your thighs so he wasn’t touching you too directly.

“Hm?” His hum was low and sweet and you noted that he sounded like he was drifting off to

sleep, a light smile on your face at his abandoned defensive walls even though the topic of conversation was rather heavy.

“I pictured them all going one way or another but not you, never ever you.” You picked one of his hands off the ground so you could hold it in your own, resting in the air above your stomach as you smoothed over his rough calloused skin and traced shapes on his palm.

He said nothing when you sighed and relaxed your limbs again, this time with his hand landing on your stomach and being enclosed by yours so he couldn’t remove it so easily. You could feel his heartbeat pick up on your back and your mouth turned up with fondness.

You didn’t need him to remind you for the hundredth time that he hadn’t gone anywhere and he was still right here with you but it was still nice to hear him grumble it in his low voice, almost a shy whisper that you had to preen to hear.

Daryl may have needed to actually feel the effect of your death before he started to slowly showcase his affectionate side but you thought it was well worth the wait, feeling beyond grateful that he hadn’t pulled away from your clinginess yet.

You figured it would just be a few days of needing him close to process that he wasn’t gone after first losing him in the smoke of the prison and then watching him get ripped away in a similar fog as soon as you had him back finally but days turned into weeks and you were still trying to find a way to silence the ache.

His heart was only picking up in speed when you were using your hand to move his slowly, so slow you could barely tell it was going anywhere at all. You pushed it until his pinky finger was under the button of your small jean shorts and you paused when you heard his breath stutter.

Part of you wanted to turn back and check his expression, make sure this was something that he wanted but you couldn’t gather the courage. Instead you sat there with your hands like that and you felt a jolt of electricity when he was moving his hand on his own.

You didn’t let it get far, barely brushing the hem of your underwear before you were swiftly sitting up in a way that clearly startled him.

He didn’t have long to overthink and wonder if he had misread the situation because now you were on your knees in between his spread legs, as close as you could get and swaying forward like you were going to lay on his chest again.

The reality was much different than he expected and lifetimes better, your lips slotting against his and automatically drawing a high pitched sound from you. There had been countless times Daryl wondered what you sounded like and the knowledge was seering itself into his brain now, longing to bring more out of you.

Your hands were on his face and you were scrambling forward so you could be sat in his lap, legs on either side of his waist as you desperately leaned into the kiss. He was easily matching your pace and you felt an overwhelming heat when you heard him groan into your mouth.

“Daryl.” The sound of his name in that tone was enough to make anybody insane and his hands on your body proved it, one hand on your lower back but the other directly touching those godforsaken jean shorts you wore.

They were poor excuses for fabric and there had been a dozen times when you'd bent over in front of him long enough for him to catch a glimpse of your panties underneath, long enough for him to run a hand over his face and disappear into the guard tower for a few hours.

Now there was no reason to pretend he wasn’t looking at you, wasn’t running his rough hands over your perfectly smooth and innocent body. That seemed to be the only innocent thing about you considering your hips were starting to rock in his lap, just slow enough to make his head spin dangerously.

His big hands were both cupping your ass now and helping you move against him, loving the way you could barely kiss him as you struggled to hold your whines in.

“Feels so good.” You sounded absolutely pathetic and wrecked and he knew right then and there that he was truly perverted, grunting into your open mouth and thrusting his hips up to make you really feel him against your sensitive core. One of your hands had been running through his hair and you tugged at the feeling, crying out in surprise.

“Cmon sweetheart.” His voice was so low and raspy, vibrations going straight to your core and making you rock harder against him.

Your lips were swollen and wet when you moved them from his mouth down to his jaw, sucking and biting the skin wherever you could and making sure he was grunting straight into your ear so you could commit the sounds to memory.

He barely flinched when you sat up to pull your tank top off, a bit too hasty considering it was getting stuck on your arms for a second and he had to help you, eyes hazy when your head finally emerged and he could really look at you,

You felt touched that he watched your eyes for a few heavy breaths before he even bothered to let his gaze move down to your bare chest, rising and falling with your nipples standing at attention off his stare alone. His hands weren't wasting any time before gently cupping your soft mounds and your mouth parted in another high whine at the feeling.

Hips moving slower but still just as addicting, you were letting him worship your tits and really take his time memorizing the way your body looked on top of his like this.

Daryl had pictured you in a hundred scenarios that brought shame to his core and sometimes the disgust was enough to bury it back down but more often than not, he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted this no matter how wrong it may be.

“No idea how much I thought about these hands.” Your voice was the highest pitch he’d ever heard and you were softly stuttering through your words like you’d forgotten where to place them, hand back in his hair and trying to be sly with the way you were moving his head downwards. “This mouth.. f-fuck.”

He may not be the most experienced, certainly not with girls as young and pretty as you but Daryl wasn’t as idiot. It was almost second nature to wrap his mouth around your nipple once he understood that’s what you were silently asking for, his entire arm wrapping around your back to keep you locked in place.

His muscles flexed when you made an extra loud sound and you suddenly remembered just how strong he really was, capable of really doing some damage to you right now if he decided that’s what he wanted. The thought sent heat further through you and you gasped out his name in repeated cries.

You were fully humping against him now and trying to get as much pressure on your core as you could but he was firm in his hold on your middle, practically making out with your tits in a way that was so lewd and filthy you felt lightheaded.

“I need more.” You were desperate now and on the verge of a sob, yanking on his hair impatiently and immediately diving into a nasty kiss the second he lifted his head to glare at you. Your tongue was so deep in his mouth he was able to fully suck on it, low sounds leaving him constantly now.

You hadn’t even realized you were falling until you hit the ground with his heavy frame falling over you, spreading your legs so he could slot himself between them easily.

“F-fuck you’re so hard.” You knew you sounded beyond fucked out already just from some dirty kissing but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. Although you clearly didn’t need to considering you weren’t at all exaggerating and Daryl was fully hard and moving his core against yours like he couldn’t stop himself.

“Pretty little thing.” His lack of vocalization didn’t bother you, not expecting it from him in the first place but you were almost grateful for his silence because it made every word he did say sound so much sweeter.

Daryl had never complimented you so directly before and it sounded ridiculous to flush over him calling you pretty while you were laying in the leaves, bare chest out and his hard on rubbing against you but it still made your body warm in a much purer heat than the rest of your body.

He did everything in his life with an aged roughness you had realized a long time ago, hands weapons even when he didn’t mean for them to be and even when it ate him up inside afterwards so you felt particularly touched that he had a gentle grasp on your ribs and hip like he was terrified of hurting you.

Although the thought of him hurting you did light something deep inside of you on fire but you decided to push that away and deal with it another time, slowing down your kisses once he started to fidget with the button and zipper on your shorts.

It was quick to go from dirty to romantic and you were grateful for the change even though you enjoyed the former just as much, the longing in your heart for a real sign that he felt similarly being slightly fulfilled when he was moving a hand to cup your cheek and really pay attention to the softer kiss.

You could tell he found amusement in his own patience bringing forth the opposite in you, a whiny annoyed noise leaving you as you started to tug at his belt impatiently and try to get him to resume what he was doing before you distracted him.

“Take it easy girl.” He was so close and the whispered words, light and affectionate enough that you almost forgot how lewd you were currently, made your eyes widened as you stared up at him hovering over you.

He made eye contact with you for only a brief second before he was looking away and you could see a heavy shyness in him that was directly opposite to the way he was pulling your shorts down your thighs and touching you before you’d even felt the wet air on your core.

Your breath caught in your throat and you wrapped your hands around his back, resting on his shoulder blades and you knew his vest would have the shape of your fingernails indented in the leather for a long time to come.

The low humming noise he was making against your neck seemed to be approval towards your neverending wetness and you were letting out a breathy laugh of pure hazy disbelief when you felt the head of his hard cock pressing against you.

You could hear him softly shushing you in a soothing manner, trying to get you to relax enough that he could actually push inside without seriously hurting you. You wondered if he could tell you had never done this before, suddenly self conscious that your inexperience was radiating off of you.

Unknown to you, he was thinking the same thing about himself and hoping you couldn’t feel the way his entire body was tensing to stop from pushing in before you were ready out of pure desperation that only you could bring out of him. It was hard not to act like a horny teenager when you were panting like you were getting fucked hard just from him touching your tits.

The combination was deadly and the sound he made when he started to actually fuck you was even worse, damn near ending your life then and there just to be immediately brought back when you felt the hot pain between your legs.

Now your pants were telling a different story and he did his best to slow down and let you get used to the sheer size of him stretching you out, not realizing the way your pupils were dilating and you were purposefully tightening your legs around his waist.

“M-more.” You were begging now as the pain started to go down and he gave you a look that told you he thought you were crazy, eyebrows furrowed as he started to shake his head in disagreement. “Please Daryl love it so much, hurts so good.”

That seemed to silence both the man above you and the entire forest, his body stiffening for a few seconds too long and your heart started to race with something not as nice as the flirty nervousness you normally felt around him.

You almost opened your mouth to apologize to him for making him uncomfortable, try to explain yourself and why you liked something like that without actually knowing the reason yourself. Instead your lips parted with another high whine when he started to move, clearly getting over whatever had made him pause and making it his personal mission to give you exactly what you wanted.

Daryl would never leave your sight again and you would stop at nothing to make sure of that so you had plenty of time for gentle, endless days to fill with romance and soft kisses that made your cheeks red. Today, however, was going to be reserved for something else entirely and you could’ve truly died happy there on the leaves with him on top of you.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead #twd #twd fanfiction #norman reedus #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon fluff #rick grimes

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ramshacklefey · 3 days ago

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One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich and The Things They Carried rewired parts of my brain. The Odyssey was a real treat. (Especially when some of my classmates who found the language rather opaque started gathering around me at morning homeroom to hear my retellings of last night's reading assignment.)

But I know some of you probably have or had a miserable time in English class, and that may have been partly because your school didn't properly prepare you for reading the books ahead of time, so you were just totally at sea all the way through.

If that's the case, here are some tips for getting more enjoyment out of a book you're struggling with!

Look up summaries of individual chapters (CliffsNotes usually has these). Then go back and read them. Having an idea of what's happening might help you follow along with language or writing styles that you're struggling with.

Let yourself skim over particular passages you're baffled by and latch onto the ones that make sense. Finding points that you can follow might help you make sense of the trickier ones by providing context.

If you don't understand a character's motivations, especially in older books and books that take place in a foreign country, it might be because you're missing context. That's okay, and your teacher isn't expecting you to have encyclopedic knowledge of the historical and cultural context for a book.

But also, even in the most unfamiliar circumstances, you can look for things that make sense to you. The characters are still people, and regardless of context, people are still people.

But also, sometimes you just can't relate to the character. That's ok. "Well I would never ____" Yes, but this person did. And here's why. In the world they live in, it made sense or it was the only thing they could do. And there are people in real life who do that. Now you've seen a little bit of why.

You don't have to like all the characters. Some characters (even the protagonists) you're supposed to hate. Sometimes that's because the author is saying, "This bastard is fucked up, but do you see how he got that way?" Sometimes it's, "This bitch made every wrong choice possible, but damn if it didn't make some wild drama."

Remember that sometimes the author may not explain exactly why something happens because it's supposed to be a bit of a mystery at first! Keep reading and see if it gets explained later!

Look up words in the dictionary!!

If you're having trouble keeping a lot of characters in your head, make a cast list. "John is Mary's brother and he's a bit of a dick."

It's okay if there are books you simply do not vibe with. Give them a fair shake, but really, even the kids who love English class are gonna have books they hate. I despised a few of the books I read for school. But remember that struggling with a book and not liking it aren't the same thing!

And for the love of everything holy. Ask. Your. Teacher. Questions. Write them down while you're reading and ask! If you're scared to ask in class, talk to them at another time! But I can guarantee that if you didn't understand something, some of your classmates didn't either. If your teacher is remotely competent, they'll be delighted to answer your questions.

And there are no questions too simple to ask in class!! "Why did this character do this thing?" "What's up with this sentence?" "I tried reading this, and here's what I think the events of this chapter were. Is that really what happened?" "What the heck is a ____?" "Why was this bit in here? It doesn't seem like it's important to the plot." "How do we know that ____ theme is in here?"

Yes, there are themes and symbols and motifs and whatever else in books. Your teacher isn't just making it up. People tell stories for a reason. The author is trying to communicate something to you. "Well why didn't they just say that?" Because saying it in a story shows you something about it. I can tell you, "Love isn't always enough to save you." or I can show you that by telling you a story about two people who fall in love and then get their shit wrecked. I can tell you, "This war happened and it was awful," or I can show you the people who were in it and what it did to them. I can tell you, "The government is a corrupt pile of festering feces," or I can show you what might happen if we keep going on the path we're on.

And you might not agree! You can say, "No, it wouldn't happen like that." You can say, "But this war was worth it because it resulted in this." You can say, "Actually, this particular social outcome seems pretty rad to me." That's okay because stories are a conversation, not the word of God from on high. But again, give the author a fair shake.

The most important thing is that you don't just give up if you're struggling. You're in school to learn! So accept that there are things you don't already know.

I straight up do not trust you if you did not enjoy a single book you had to read for English class. I know they assigned some real stuffy stinkers and the curriculum varies across districts but not one? Not The Outsiders? Not The Picture of Dorian Gray? Not Fahrenheit 451? Not even Frankenstein? Damn. That’s crazy.

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darlingdaisyfarm · 3 days ago

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Billford x Reader cuddles fluffee💕♥️💕

Ford and Reader fall asleep on the couch together after a really long day of working on the portal. Bill comes in possessing Ford, but Read has an absolute DEATH GRIP on Fords body, and they won't wake up either, so Bill is just stuck there, forced to cuddle against his will! The horror!!!

(and he definitely likes it more than he let's on, because let's face it, Bill NEEDS a hug-)

──★ Bill Cipher’s guide to suffering: step 1, get hugged ִֶָ࣪☾.

Ford x reader x Bill, sfw, fluff

thank u for this request hun, that's such an interesting idea to write! ♡

It’s late, too damn late to be functional. The portal project is relentless and tonight it swallowed both of you, brilliant scientists, whole. You’re tired. So tired you can’t remember the last time you blinked without feeling your eyes burn, so here you are, curled up on the couch with Ford. He’s warm, his arm rests on your waist, holding you. You could stay like this forever. No portal. No equations. No endless parade of chaos. Just you and him, your lovely smart genius. However, you think vaguely that this couch was never meant to hold two people like this, his broad shoulders, your tangled legs, but the thought slips away as soon as it arrives. You’re too tired to care.

Ford murmurs something half-formed, your name tangled with numbers, probably some nonsense that only makes sense to him. Again this portal. Honestly, you barely hear it, through the fog of half-sleep, all what you hear is the soft hum of his voice while his chest rises and falls with each breath.

“No, Ford, you need to rest.” you smile against him, because he doesn’t really need to finish this tonight, does he? It can wait. Your arms tighten around his waist, pulling him closer, hoping he’ll get the hint.

He doesn’t.

“But the portal—” he starts and you cut him off with a sleepy hum, nuzzling your face against the rough wool of his sweater. It smells like him and the faint chemical tang of whatever experiment went wrong today.

“Shhh,” you drag the sound out as if you’re trying to soothe a restless cat. “just. . . stay. For a little while. Please?”

He doesn’t argue, too tired, just as you. For the first time in the whole exhausting week, he lets himself relax with a quiet sigh. Finally. You close your eyes. Yeah. This is better.

Some hours later, Ford’s body stiffens beneath you before going still again. Then again he jerks under your hand, his muscles twitching and you frown, your brows knitting together as you pull him closer.

“Ford, it’s fine. Go back to sleep.” you calm him down, thinking he's having a bad dream. Unfortunately, this began to happen more and more often with Stanford.

“Well, aren’t you a little barnacle. . . Clingy, aren’t we, doll?”

The pet name barely registers. You shift against him, still half-asleep. “Ford?” you blink once, twice, before your eyelids sink shut again. You don’t even process the difference in his tone, the lazy mockery threading through his words.

“That’s me,” Ford's body moves, wanting to get up and that's when you tighten your grip, burrowing your head against his chest.

“Don’t. . . don’t go back to the lab. You need rest.”

“But babyyy, who else is going to do this if not me?

You freeze now. That word, Ford’s never called you that. Never used anything close to it, really. Your brain stumbles over the word.

Your reactions are too slow because sleep is what you need the most right now, you'll definitely ask him about it, but later. Ford tenses again, but you don’t let go. “Please, stay. Just for tonight. For me.” your voice muffled against him. “I’ll make coffee later. You’re so warm.”

He stiffens and you don’t understand why. You’re too drowsy to care.

Ford Bill laughs. “You’re a stubborn little thing, huh?”

You nod, nuzzling closer. “Love you, Ford. You’re safe here. Don’t worry about the portal. It’ll keep.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Bill tries to move Ford’s body again and fails. Your grip is too tight. “What the hell—”

“You’re not going anywhere.” you mutter, half-conscious but entirely stubborn.

Eww, that’s disgusting. All your stupid little human things, Bill thinks, lovey-dovey nonsense. Kisses and cuddles and 'i love you's. Ugh.

Bill hisses, struggling against the deadweight of Ford’s body and your death grip. “are you kidding me? let go, you clingy meat sack!”

You don’t respond, already drifting back to sleep, lulled by the familiar rhythm of Ford’s heartbeat under your ear.

Bill wants to shove you off, peel you away like the nuisance you are, but— but you’re warm.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

It’s infuriating, your face is tucked into his chest, like you actually trust him. Like he’s not a god of chaos who could snap his fingers and turn your precious little dimension upside down. The audacity of it.

And yet, he can’t quite bring himself to move. It’s disgusting. It’s uncomfortable. It’s. . . nice? No, no, no, no, no. He refuses. He refuses.

Fucking humans, sentimental little parasites. Always clinging, always needing, always—

You smile in your sleep.

Bill goes still, motionless, probably plotting your demise, cursing his predicament, but he doesn't move. He just lies there, trapped, a caged beast forced to endure the unexpected warmth of human affection.

And honestly it's kind of hilarious. The horror, you say? The real horror is watching Bill Cipher, the embodiment of chaos and destruction, forced to cuddle against his will. The horror is the look of utter bewilderment on his face, the way his single, malevolent eye seems to be pleading, begging for release.

Let him stew. Let him learn a little something about the human condition. Let him experience the unexpected comfort of a warm embrace. Besides, who knows? Maybe a little human affection will do him some good. Maybe it'll soften those sharp edges and melt that icy heart.

ps - barnacle: a person or thing that clings tenaciously :)

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls #gravity falls x you #gravity falls smut #ford pines x reader #stanford pines #bill cipher #bill x reader #bill cipher x you #bill cipher x reader #ford pines x you #stanford pines x you #stanford pines x reader #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls headcanons

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inez-winchester-cameron · 2 days ago

Note

Could you write a longer one shot or smth about that pogue!reader x enemy!rafe? I love the concept sm!!💕💕

this is the post I'm thinking about:

thinking abt sweet lil pogue reader who cant stop thinking abt rafe..her supposed enemy even though she rubs her sticky cunt to the thought of him atleast 3 times before she can sleep..

our little secret

rafe cameron x pogue!enemy!reader

summary: you and rafe both have completely opposite but big reputations but something about him draws you in. in a sort of way that you can't quite explain, nor could you try explaining to your friends

cw: 2 year age gap, innocent and sweet reader, virgin reader, masturbating, suggestive, idek

note: i think id be willing to write more on this topic but i kept this mostly brief. requests open for spn and obx!!

you and rafe are complete opposites in nearly ever sense. rafe cameron is the king of the kooks, a drug addict, a party animal, with raging anger issues. you on the other hand are a sweet little member of the pogues, refuse to touch any drugs, and would rather be at home relaxing than go to a party. on top of that, your two groups are complete and total enemies. you and rafe are supposed to be enemies.

but rafe's always been nice to you, or atleast he's not a complete dick to you. whenever he sees you in public while you're alone, he always finds some sort of reason to talk to you.

"where's your little pogue friends, princess?"

"looking lonely, huh?"

"tell jj he better not show his damn face at one of my parties ever again. think you can handle that, princess?"

and during the altercations between the groups, he stays away from you, harassing the others, never you.

and you know it's wrong. he's a dick to your friends, he treats them like trash. but there's something about him.

maybe it's the big blue eyes or the height difference or the hair. or maybe it's the sweet little nicknames he calls you, and the longing looks he gives you.

whatever it was, it had you shoving your hand down your pants before bed every night. your mind came up with the wildest scenarios, the dirtiest shit.

rafe pinning you against the bathroom sink at one of his parties.

him pulling you away from your group and shoving his dick down your throat.

him calling you dirty names while you bounce on his cock, your tits in his face.

after one particular incident, you find yourself getting home asap to touch yourself. rafe had approached you at a party, where you stood alone. unlike the rest of your group, you were rather shy and all your friends left to be social.

as you stand alone, you sip on the cup that jj had filled for you earlier. you look around, nervously, hoping one of your friends returns to you soon. your heart starts beating faster as rafe cameron approaches you. he gives you a sickeningly sweet smile.

"hey princess, where are your little pogue buddies at?"

"with other friends.." you mutter.

"really? they're leaving a sweet little thing like you all by herself?"

"yeah i can take-" you start but you're interrupted.

"what the fuck are you doing?" jj suddenly asks, barging into the scene, pushing rafe away from you.

"fuck off, maybank, i didn't touch her," rafe says, putting his hands up, "i'll see you later, sweets." he winks at you before walking off.

later that night, as you lay in bed, you find yourself thinking about the incident. your hands are neatly laying on your stomach and as you think more and more you find yourself shoving one down your pj pants and underwear.

you sigh as your hand makes contact with your sticky cunt. you rub over your clit for a moment before spreading your lips apart, running a finger over your hole and spreading your slick along your cunt.

a few seconds later, you're shoving a finger up your cunt and whining. for the life of you, you could not get a good angle, ever. you always saw people raving about and talking about how good it feels to finger yourself or get fingered, but you could never get the right angle or feeling by yourself.

after a few moments of absolutely no pleasure, you pull you hand back, groaning. your phone buzzes and you jump a bit. your free hand reaches for it and you pause as you read your newest notification.

'rafecameronobx has requested to follow you'

#obx #outerbanks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #pogue!reader #rafe cameron imagine #obx fanfiction #outerbanks fanfiction

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chronurgy · 3 days ago

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I think if we want to understand what happened during veilguard's development, it's worth looking at this article about anthem's. History may not repeat itself, but it sure does rhyme - right down to the last minute title change right before the big reveal trailer. The section on the way the use of performance capture for facial animations caused issues with the writing and story as things changed over the turbulent development also feels particularly relevant (basically, they didn't have the time and money to redo it when the story changed, so they just left in things that didn't make sense). It's also worth noting that Mark Darrah, Inqusition's executive director, was widely credited by the devs in the article as being the one to take anthem from nothing at all to something that could actually be shipped by the deadline EA required (he came onboard 17 months before the game shipped). Darrah left bioware in late 2020, before returning as a consultant on veilguard in March 2023 (19 months before release), which I think is particularly interesting and may offer some insight into the game's dev cycle.

I think it also answers the question of whether this is all ea or bioware's fault - and it's both. The answer is that it's both of them. It's ea's fault for forcing them to continue to use frostbite when the engine is clearly not suitable for this purpose, and then just leaving them to flounder. But the incredible mismanagement is absolutely bioware's fault. Upper management's inability to set a course and to make sure things were getting done is on them. Their reliance on "bioware magic" (aka crunch) to make everything come together, ignoring that it wasn't working, and dismissing employees' concerns about it is on them. One developer said that reading the reviews of anthem was "'like reading a laundry list of concerns that developers [had] brought up with senior leadership'" which is incredibly damning!

A lot has been said about the number of senior people that left during this time period, but based on this article, non-senior employees were quitting in droves as well. There was also a massive spike in people taking "stress leave" at the studio during both anthem and Andromeda's productions. One dev said they couldn't count how many people "'had such a mental breakdown from the stress they [were] just gone for one to three months. Some come back, some don’t.'" Upper management at bioware let this environment happen. EA may have encouraged it with their insistence on an unrealistic release date, but bioware still let it happen.

#This is what I mean when I talk about structural issues making bad games #Because it sure doesn't sound like any of this got fixed for veilguard #bioware critical #Datv critical #<- sort of? I guess?#Tldr why is the game the way it is? Structural issues with bioware and ea #Plus a lot of bioware veterans are just gone. They quit! For understandable reasons!#Not just the writers and the other big names but lots of people with lots of institutional knowledge are gone #That's why it's different now

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lifenconcepts · 11 hours ago

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1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

Hm. Just the umbrella term I prefer but perhaps otherkin in the sense of being some strange conceptkin and Divinekin who calls themselves angelkin over being this sensation of life and fate and existence as a whole.. I’m like- life. Just life. Life-kin, can I just say I’m me? I’m everything. Aaaaughehejjd also wolf therian. Beat me over that but also sometimes caninekin and like .. feeling like dogs depending on whatever mood I’m in and copinglink of a borzoi 💯

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? sort of answered it in the above but I love lists. From highest relation to least (I vary quite often, and mostly am okay with being human except for a few rare instances and exceptions): Life and existence as a whole, wolf, a mutt/random canine, and.. some muskrat 😿 I love them but how the hell am I litterally a muskrat- OH AND I HAVE HUMAN PAST LIVES but I’m still confused over them. Like, some random guy with a car who loves the nighttime and was treated like shit, uhh.. about 80s/90s and in his 20s- maybe USA or UK, also USSR but not sure if it’s the same guy. Also a butler or someone of the sorts in another, just having a bunch of various strange jobs (or maybe it’s who I want to be.. idk I always struggle with knowing what’s my subconscious or what’s my soul)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

Hm. Mostly mental shifts or something and the vague feeling of being a wolf but have had tail, ear, paw, and full body shifts. Also wings but they’re like random and in no way related to any identity.

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

Hm. I forget. Aha forgot- auh just being more understanding to those also like me and more connected to nature on an animalistic level and validating myself in my unusual-ness? Also sometimes craving the simple regressive state of being incoherent but understood, of being one with sensations and instincts but perceived by humans.. hehejdkjdhdhd

5/ What do you think of the community?

very nice! Also very sweet! Understanding of plenty, especially tumblr, but others may be more misinformed and rude elsewhere.. anyways just very sweet, good movement if I can call it that, it’s gained popularity definefely and for the better.

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

watching documentaries on canines, documentaries on ussr (don’t ask), forests and nature as an absolute whole (especially woodlands), and dog training videos. Fascinates me. Also being seen as a wolf. I used to go around telling people to call me Wolfy as a kid.

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

nope! Not really, and I find that great :)

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

trust your instinct and this vague feeling of feeling ‘right’ rather than any set of rules or expectations.

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

eueuhsgghhwcomplex question. Next! Aha kidding but like.. I want metal claws, and pretty metal gloves over my hand. Whatever that is. Hm perhaps also a wolf mask? Mm.. I don’t really like gear though, too ‘out there’ for me. I got a tail and paws and ears tho, but REALLY want wings— also kinda fucked up I don’t glow. Would drink glow sticks to glow- aha kidding.. unless-

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

mine specifically? .. evolved from thinking wolves are mad cool then seemingly wanting to be a werewolf then really thinking I could become one (with my varying degrees of wolfness and humanness) then finding splice with being seen as a canine or with one, and turned quickly to ‘yeah I’m a person but being a dog or wolf would be so damn cool’ and searching immensely on caves near me with the idea I would go exploring and find a genie and wish to be a shapeshifter and then live in the forest and convince others I was human then in the privacy of my own presence embrace my instincts and dreams of being a canine and now it’s just. Confusion mixed in with ‘was I faking it??’ feeling and some sense of ‘but i like being human’ even with that same nagging feeling of sometimes just needing to be a dog for a bit to feel content in my skin and maybe it’s something leftover with my soul’s past life that I’ve gotten over or now transformed from being a childhood dream to merely related to the emotional state of freedom and being understood even with my strange behaviours and appearance that likely had been formed through having a nagging sense of not being understood enough even with being genuinely spoilt but trying to convince myself that nobody cared so I could excuse myself if I ever turned to drugs but then just finding ways to love and understand myself and finally realising that I am loved but sometimes my thoughts just aren’t understood because others have different views and then vowing to do my best to understand others and especially folklore creatures even after I- oh, have I went off script a tiny bit? Im wolf enough.

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

oh I’m an addict for answering this, thank you so much for tagging me! But.. I don’t know who to tag.. anyone who sees this! Perhaps @canines-crown ??

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

#My eepy ramblings #divine illumination #alterhuman #angelkin #divinekin #conceptkin #wolfkin #dog therian #wolf therian #canine therian #wolf theriotype #canine theriotype #therian things #caninekin #theriotype #therianthropy #therian community #my experiences

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foone · 13 hours ago

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I need to watch more Star Trek: The Original Series. Despite, you know, everything about me, I've only actually seen like a third of it. I never was a big fan as a kid and I never went back to watch it.

The slightly embarrassing reason why I need to watch it is that I've been developing this headcanon about Bones where he's got a complex and somewhat destructive relationship with death and I honestly don't know if it's backed up by canon and I don't want to keep talking about it (in the same ways, at least) if it's not really canon-compatible.

So I wanna re-watch/watch TOS just so I can see if my Bones characterization makes any sense or if it's solidly an alternate take on the character, like "what if bones was a depressed perfectionist with substance abuse issues?"

Like, I know he's often the smilies and jokiest of the crew, but that always read as, like... "clown happiness", for lack of a better term. It's smiling and joking as an act, because you don't want to look and sound as miserable as you are.

I think McCoy is a man who wants to save everyone and despite the wonders of his future technology, he knows he can't win. No matter how many miracles he pulls off, it's just a matter of time before they come back from a mission with something he can't fix, and they die on his medibed or in his arms on a mission. This is, of course, not helped by his two closest friends being Kirk and Spock, who are always willing to die to save each other, the crew, the mission, strangers, alien rocks with laser eyes, the concept of hatred itself, whatever.

He's "happy" and "jokey" but in a M*A*S*H sense: you're saving lives but sometimes it hits a little too hard that you're saving soldiers who are just going to go back out there and get shot or blown up or whatever damn foolish way. And he drinks a lot more than he should to not have to face those facts sober. And to forget, even if only for a moment, all the faces of those he failed to save.

Spocks got an eidetic memory from his green-blooded heritage, but Bones doesn't need one to be sure he remembers that young ensign who was grabbed by a plasma macrobe and had all his red blood cells turned to dust. There's one of those every day, it seems. Different reasons, different situations, different faces dying in front of him and he never stops feeling like a failure when it happens. But he goes on, because if he gives up that'll just mean more deaths and pain and sickness.

He knows he's gonna lose this war in the end. But that's no reason to stop fighting. He drags himself to the sickbay every morning, happy and chipper, because if he doesn't do this he can't live with himself, and you've he's got to put on a good show for the patients, nurses, officers. They're counting on him, and they need his wholesome bedside manner.

But you can see it when he gets angry. How pissed he gets when people die for no reason, are sick for no reason, are denied treatment for no reason, and how much he hates all this space malarkey. His anger sounds like a man who has been hurting for a very long time and is finally letting some of it out.

#Bones #star trek tos

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draconicred · 3 days ago

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Experiences in the Alterhuman Community (and Beyond) as a Fictive

It's a weird experience being a fictional character, especially dealing with fandom, the fact that your source is fictional, and interactions with people based on that--including some of the dehumanisation that's so common toward fictionfolk. I'm gonna go into that here because I need somwhere to collect my thoughts, so this might get long. I'll be talking about my experiences as a fictive, but this could very well apply to anyone who identifies as a fictional being--fictionkin, fictionlinkers, etc.

So, I see the version of me on the screen as an AU version of me, in short. I mean, I'm me, and I don't think I even looked exactly 1:1 with my canon self--so naturally, even though events line up pretty closely, I see my source as... Almost like a fanfic of my life? Like sure, that's decidedly me, and decidedly a lot of the things that happened to me and my friends, but also not me. I'm not that guy on the screen, he's what represents me.

Even though I fully believe I got here by dying in a literal past life, my source media here is absolutely fictional to me and I just... Don't look at it in really any other way. Which I guess makes sense if you put it into my perspective--what else would it be? It really is like reading a fanfic based on your life though, or reading an article about yourself in the news. A bit of a shock, a bit of "why did they include THAT?" sprinkled in here and there, a bit awkward sometimes, and it does tend to resurface bad feelings. But overall, it's not that personal to me. I'm largely fine with it existing.

On the other hand, what is shocking is that people see me as fictional. I'm a fictional introject, from a fictional source, from the perspectives of a lot of people here. But I look at my source and I go well... Yeah, that's fiction of course, but my life is an actual thing that happened to me. Realistically I know that not everyone has spiritual beliefs and not everyone even accepts fictional identities as something "real", but man is it weird to just... Have it be spun in such a way?

I'm used to being in the media, I'm used to having cameras on me and being in the public eye. I'm used to articles and stories and posts on the internet. I'm used to fans even! But this isn't your regular, run-of-the-mill experience of people wanting to know you because you're a hero. This is people who see your life and experiences as a fun story they saw in a book or on TV, coming up to you with the idea that you're their favourite character, and not... A whole entire person. It's so damn weird.

There's still that level of disrespect that comes from people who are a little parasocial with you, but it almost hits deeper here because a lot of the time, you know they're not seeing a hero or the things you've literally done in your memories. They're seeing that guy on the screen they think is cool, and while he represents you, he's not you. And they're treating you like a celebrity because of that weird fanfic version of you on the TV or in that book.

There's usually little acknowledgement of your life or experiences as "real". When you're presenting as your fictional identity around others, you tend to get put into one of a few camps:

Cool Character from Media who I love and adore and want to talk to (and will probably get fanperson excited about it). I will probably get dispraportionally upset if Character tells me to back off a bit because I don't want my blorbo to be mad at me.

Character from Media I'm in love with and will immediately start asking invasive questions to or outright flirting with. Could get real gross real quick.

Problematic Character or Guy From Problematic Media that I instantly dislike because that's so Problematic how dare you show your face. I'm reporting you for being Character, you should change your identity if you want to exist so bad.

Character from Media who is disabled/queer/mentally ill/has any soft personality trait ever and I will now be treating you like a sweet little babyboy cinnamon roll who could not hurt a fly.

Person who identifies as Character? How interesting! I'm going to really pry and question everything from your actions in-source (to get unique perspectives from Character) and question literally everything else. Because this is Science and I'll get mad if you don't tell me everything, you need to tell me everything or you're rude.

Of course there's nuance and there's absolutely times where you'll be treated as a normal person, but the above are... So damn common. I've been here for a few months and I've already had some weird stuff happen to me simply because I'm Kirishima and people feel entitled to give me cutesy nicknames or whatever. Even without knowing me or my system at all beforehand. It's just.. So different from anything I've experienced before? Being treated like a celebrity is dehumanising enough, but being treated like a character.ai bot or just generally a form of free entertainment and not a person is so perplexing to me.

There's also that if you're from a popular source, you see stuff about yourself everywhere. Posters, plushies, advertisements, posts on social media--all of it. Some of that I'm used to already, but it's kind of weird when you're mentally aware that this is all for that twisted-mirror version of yourself and not you. And if you get a little uncomfortable at some fanart showing up out of the blue, or someone making a source related joke... You're kind of just expected to brush it off. Which yeah, I get it! It's about the source, not me, but it's still just... A weird feeling. A feeling of not being allowed to be upset because it's about the source and not literal you.

I think there needs to be a line, maybe. Not saying that fictives should be putting a stop to any media or fandom ever, just.. That maybe respect toward us for being uncomfortable with fan content due to being a fictive or fictionkin should be more normalised. It should be more okay to say "hey, I'm Character, please don't joke like that" to a friend, or "don't send me fanart of this thing, I'm Character and that's weird"--which it normally is! But there does tend to be a sort of layer of "Oh, it's because you're Character. You know that's not you, right? You shouldn't be upset, you need to source separate more."--when if most other people were to set a boundary like that, it would usually be respected. Source separation can be great, but if someone hasn't separated or doesn't want to, why is it okay to still send them material they're uncomfortable with--or at least, why do people tend to argue that the fictive should "just separate from source" instead? It... Just boils down to alterhumisia toward fictionfolk, honestly. It sucks.

There's a lot of problems with basic respect toward fictionfolk of all kinds--hell, even in the alterhuman community where it's meant to be safe. I don't know if this rant is entirely coherent or not, I don't know if there's anything noteworthy to take from it--but if you do take something from it, let it be that fictionfolk want to be treated like people. Source separated, not source separated, canon divergent or compliant, hearted, linker, 'kin or 'tive--we're people. Don't let our identities change the way you instinctually treat us. Let us be openly us, and treat us as you would anyone else.

#otherkin #alterhuman experiences #otherkind #alterhuman #nonhuman #fictionkin #fictionkind #fictionfolk #fictive #fictionlinker #fictionhearted #fictionflicker #alterhumanity #terrorpunk #alterhumisia #op #tw: alterhumisia

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