#not preferred but as prequels that is it is job as a prequel be an option to expand a beloved a franchise and universe

[pixie-skull]

homemade meme, number 11, as WTFF! What the Flying Fridge! I finished this game and feel disappointment that this game studio rushed KNOWING there would be a third movie.

[shiroselia]

Me when I'm the fiercest and most important lawyer in the solar system and I also look like this

[wanologic]

college au prequel: what happened to danny during junior year - 2940 words

Viscous green liquid sludges through a dry river bed, whetting the cracked ground and seeping deep into the void. Soil softens, becoming fat with nutrient. In the most basic definition, still itself, but filled with new matter, ready and accepting of more. This is what it was made for, its purpose. It has been sitting, dry and untended for too long. In this symbiosis it is more than it dreamed to be. Complete in the sense that it has been starved.

--

Danny wakes up, the dream lingering.

He’s been feeling odd lately, despite the fact that he is more comfortable in his skin than ever. He has a goal, he has support. 

A bridge, he called himself.

Even if he’s only sixteen and his influence is contextually small, he has time. People are listening. Ghosts are listening. Small steps over a long period will get you where you need to go, and he’s still just a kid. 

A kid who has to get ready for school.

He goes through the familiar motions, snags a quick breakfast and lets his parents know he’s headed out, that he’ll see them later. He’s out the door and on his way before he knows it.

Danny’s grades have improved since his freshman year. The pressure to keep things secret has all but alleviated and his family is sticking close. The world might not know that Fenton and Phantom are the same, but the people who matter do.

He’s managing. Thriving, even.

His extracurriculars are atypical of a high school junior, but he plays his role well. The Ghost Investigation Ward meets Phantom and the Fentons on neutral ground that evening, working their way methodically through a tangle of red tape. Teaching, learning. There’s always danger in compromise, but both parties are being two faced. It’s civil for now.

He’ll do this from the opposite angle on another day, playing border guard for the dimensional tear nestled into the fabric of his basement. Walker would be proud of him. He’s enforcing the Rules.

And it’s all going well as far as he can tell. Things are so much less chaotic than they were, his brawls feel like bonding, his head is no longer on a swivel.

For now, it’s off to his room. A space for himself to decompress after a long day's work.

He spends a lot of time thinking about a prehistoric past. What the future might look like once his job is over. This solid physical reality fed that swirling and infinite realm of emotion directly, once. It didn’t last, but time has passed. 

Danny is more aware of this fractured nature than most. He’s sure it’s why he’s had so much success. Why the responsibility falls on him. He feels it every time he calls upon his second self. 

And that’s what it is, isn’t it? Human first, ghost second. Humanity is the frame of reference he was born with. Everything new he experiences in this strange half-life is compared against it. Spectra once asked him what he was. But humanity is in his nature. He is a creepy boy with creepy powers. He’s sure of it. 

Going ghost.

Returning to humanity.

Not that he prefers one over the other. He’s made the choice. More than once. When his memories were erased or his powers short-circuited he always took them back. Felt the thrumming and euphoric energy pulsing through his being once again. His shape projected and unreal. Weightless. It feels incredible.

At some point, some late night discussion about feelings, whether it was with family or with friends, he realized his dual nature was more of a privilege than he could ever hope to fully comprehend. His human half feeds his ghost half everything. His ghost half is complete. No wonder he’s so determined, so strong. He has never once craved emotion the way the others have. He has intrinsic access to everything. Every failed test, every frustration, every joy, every thrill. He is comfortable and whole. Has no need to lash out. Two separate identities working together as two polar magnets, inseparable through the strength of their attraction, moving through the world as one.

He slips the familiar glowing rings across his body, the cool wash of ectoplasm coursing through his veins. Back again, blood pumps oxygen to his cells. Human. Ghost. Human. Ghost.

--

This time the dream is stranger.

The river craves the ocean. 

Danny feels the sand cake beneath his nails as he digs a trench, a violation of the river’s established bed. There’s a trickle as a thin and frothy stream flows out of sync with the current along the path he lays. It longs for the larger disconnected body ahead. A curious tendril seeking an easier path. He digs deeper, automatic, compelled by a force he doesn’t quite understand. 

Is this a bridge too?

He’s both excited and afraid to find out.

The liquid pools at his fingertips as fast as he can dig. Nudging. The sand is saturated and wet in front of him. He’s not sure how much further he has to go. But if he can claw his way through this dense barrier he’s sure it will pick up momentum even without him. The fluid mass can carve its own trench. Wider. Faster. Wider again.

He wakes up in a cold sweat. He somehow feels incorporeal. This isn’t right. He looks at his hands. His fingers in the dark. Clean. Spotless. He feels the sheets beneath his body, the press of the blanket above. So he’s still human then, wrong as it may seem. He clutches at his chest as he tries to calm his racing heart, quell the strength of an intense emotion that he cannot describe. It’s exhilarating. It’s terrifying.

He stops digging and fashions a dam, not yet ready for what the final connection could mean.

His head hurts.

Nausea tucks itself against his gut.

He takes a shower.

--

It’s Saturday and he has business in the Ghost Zone.

He shifts, expecting the weird feeling to subside. Instead it’s more of the same. Something is off. He ignores it. A thing to worry about later when he has less to do.

His work that day goes smoothly, another step in what he can only hope is the right direction. And it feels nice, giving in to the compulsion and focusing on what is in front of him, what is currently begging his attention, rather than the problems lurking beneath the surface. It is a learned behavior, one he falls back into easily.

Upon his return he feels like he is dragging a piece of the Infinite Realms back with him. The air seems to thicken, the cold steel walls of the portal are closing in on him. The exit is a pinpoint.  He’s being called back. He wants to move forward. He can feel silky fingers worm their way over his skin, hundreds of tendrils trying to pull him into their embrace. He stays strong. Moves with intent. The invisible hands can’t find enough purchase and he is finally welcomed back into the Physical World like the denizen he is. 

The caress stays with him much longer than he’s willing to admit.

--

Weeks go by and he only feels stranger and stranger. High. His attention slides off of everything so easily, his eyes blurring mid-conversation, a stuffy feeling, like a balloon that’s expanding well past the boundaries of his head. He loses time. Cancels appointments. He doesn’t feel well, sorry, he’s going to stay home today.

There is something Danny knows he needs to do. He can’t keep existing in limbo like this, his job only half-finished, pulled in two directions but choosing neither. His powers will wane once again in his indecision. His purpose sits unfulfilled.

He lays back and stares at the softly luminescent stars pasted to the ceiling of his room. Takes deep and even breaths as he struggles to remain present. His sister is worried for him, he’s sure. The best he can do for her is secretly practice what she has preached.

Danny eventually thinks back to that trickling stream. The slimy offshoot of the coursing river. He thinks of the dam he dreamed up all those weeks ago, sure it’s bigger now. His denial adds weight and height to the metaphor. Every day it feels less like a figment of his fucked up imagination and more like the worlds are trying to tell him something. What’s on the other side now, he wonders? Is the river still flowing? Are the fruits of his labor still there or has that little hand-clawed pathway dried up? How large is the reservoir pressing up against that sandy hill if it hasn’t?

He’s scared. 

He doesn’t want to know. 

But this isn’t what he promised himself.

A peek can’t hurt.

--

The dream comes easily, now that he lets it.

The funny thing about water is that it always finds a way. No matter what people do, how they try to tame it, erosion is inevitable. It starts as a dark wet splotch, the faint idea of a tiny breach in the all-but-permeable barrier between worlds—the river and the ocean. As the spot expands a dip forms on the horizon. The water moves. Under, through, over. Destructive. Alive. Danny shouldn’t have looked but he can’t stop what has already started. Equilibrium will be achieved one way or another. It was only ever a matter of time. He stands in the shallows, cowed as the wall comes down. Slowly first, then all at once.

The edges of panic are sharp and he realizes what is happening only a beat too late. 

The dam breaks.

He screams.

He was the dam, he is the trench, the rapid connection of energy flowing out of bounds and rushing along a new path. Lightning striking the rod to avoid burning down the house. The portal below him is a wound, a tear. He is something asked for, something natural. His mind can’t keep up as he struggles to regain ground and prevent being swept away by the violent current.

Dim awareness of his physical body comes back to him slowly as he writhes against the foreign dimension assaulting his senses. A second death. His double life was a conceptual marvel, a switch flipping from on to off, and back on again. He is the embodiment of two worlds, split, distinct. His quest to join them together requires this of him, doesn’t it? Whatever autonomy he has against the will of the universe cannot remain if he truly wants to serve his purpose. It’s a choice he has to make. One that he has been making. One that has been made.

He takes a deep and shuddering breath.

He tries to let go, and finds that he can’t. It’s like being electrocuted all over again, his nerves fried and his joints stuck rigid. It’s a feeling that is impossible to control, tense as he is.

His breath still comes ragged as colors around him saturate and the world warps. He can feel his fear, his desperation, feeding the momentum of whatever is happening. The exchange of emotion, osmosis through a rapidly deteriorating membrane. Thousands of overlapping inputs assault his mind as he feels the energy sliding around in the folds of his brain. He breathes through it. It’s not at all painful, but it is intense. His human points of reference aren’t working to help him conceptualize what is happening. His atoms are buzzing with newfound energy and the world is no longer solid. He tries once again to attempt the mindfulness ritual Jazz has been shoving down his throat, tries to name five things around him. The exercise fails him as he feels his brain liquefy in his skull. He gasps at the sloshing sensation, back arching. He’s going to be unmade.

Instead of loosening his grip, he tightens it. Remembering what it is to be human with all the force he can muster. His knuckles are white. Sweat slips down his brow. If he can’t let go, he has to hold on. He is gasping, thrashing. He’s hyperventilating, he’s sure, but no oxygen floods his system. He wants release, wants off this ride. The world outside of his perception ceases to exist. Flesh slips from his bones and it feels so, so good.

Then he sees it.

His eyes are blind, but he perceives it, somehow. The yawning void of the infinite realms is so much bigger, so much hungrier than he had ever thought. Reading that tablet, all that time ago, he thought his purpose was something simple. Easy in a way that a fourteen year old imagination could rationalize. The earth and the zone were two physical spaces that only needed to understand each other and hold hands to achieve that elusive harmony. 

He’d been wrong.

It’s not the earth that feeds the realms. Dimensions aren’t something that can be explained by an elementary understanding of mass and matter. They aren’t some static three dimensional points in time and space. They are universes of their own, expanding, interstitched in a nasty and sticky web of inexplicable physics folding over and back on themselves, forever too complicated to pry apart.

The realms are fed by the conscious universe perceiving itself, the soul, the spirit, whatever you want to call it. Emotions aren’t some grid of faces on a paper, they are infinite, they are cause and effect, the chicken and the egg, projecting forever in a möbius loop human understanding can never truly describe.

He’s going to go insane, he concludes. Here on his bed, on some random weekday, alone in his room. The magnetic pull of his two halves are phasing into each other, becoming imperceivable as the two separate forms he once knew. He’s not even sure that he really exists at this point. 

There is another choice to make.

He thinks back to what he knows about this buried history, Pariah Dark, The Ancients, wonders if they considered this connection, what they knew about how this should happen. Is there a way to do this that is objectively correct? If he knew more would it be easier? Or would it go down just the same? He has no desire to conquer. Only to be a bridge. A tether. An example. To show that this merging from two to one can be peaceful, a shift in perception rather than a violent overhaul. It is unavoidable now. His only wish is to remain recognizable as himself. 

He focuses not on his mind but on his body. He has to rebuild from the ground up or risk losing himself forever. Start small, a beating heart. Vascular systems. Skeletal. Muscular. Take a breath and pump blood into the empty cavern of his skull. Human is what he knows, though he’s never had to think about it quite this way before. His nerves lace through the structures he’s struggling to create, half intuition, half memory. It feels like being a ghost, all projection and thought, a deep and innate understanding. He knows this. He’s existed this way every moment of his short life and he can do it again. He’s alive, his blood is red, his flesh is tangible.

His brain slams back into his body and he promptly throws up.

--

The worlds are connected once again.

Danny’s hands shake as he tries to get a grip on himself. He’s been changed. He can feel it. The Infinite Realms has marked him as he has marked it. The world is flowing through and from him. Energy hums under his skin, and in it there is access to a well so deep he’s not sure it could ever run dry. 

He finally gets it. This is what being a bridge between worlds means for him.

He gets off his bed slowly. Half floating, half stumbling for balance. His instincts are scattered and his breath no longer sits in his body the same.

This change gives him the authority and the power, the perception and understanding to mend the bleeding fracture between dimensions. He will be listened to. He cannot be hurt. His appearance no longer matters, he is what he is, wholly and entirely. He exists as a linchpin. He is the keystone in the arch where one side is living and the other is dead.

Gravity feels so odd. Like someone changed the coefficient.

He sobs and grabs his dresser for support, woozy and unbalanced, a newborn deer walking on unfamiliar legs. He intends to make his way downstairs. Wants to fall into the embrace of his parents. Needs someone to hold him and tell him that everything will still be okay. He looks to the door.

And without moving, he is there.

Breath comes hard and fast as he steadies himself. His perception catching up to the new perspective. His hand is on the handle, he radiates a trail of semi-physical matter with every motion. It will take practice to appear normal again. He’s reminded of his freshman year.

When he finally opens the door, a swirling green wall is all that meets him. He stares at it, the cold vapor of the Realms slipping around and through him.

He knows the observants exist on the other side. He is sure of it as he is sure of anything. They are there to acknowledge the crown above his head. To observe what he has finally made of himself. 

He will tell him that he didn’t want this, didn’t ask for it.

They will tell him that he is lying.

He steps through the threshold.

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Rose Recaps 2024 - Korea [ Thailand | Japan ]

Starting my list of favourite shows with Korea. They gave us so much angst, and some of them I still haven't fully been able to shake. Let's go.

The one with the existential dread

Love For Love's Sake

I was not ready. Not that I think there was a way I would be, but still. I was floored. It was an ambitious concept but executed pretty much flawlessly. If they had a bit more time, I think the world building could've benefited a little, cause there were parts that felt a bit rushed but overall the themes were well conveyed throughout. This show can be interpreted in a variety of ways, and one can take from it different things. For so much of this show I was filled with anxiety and sadness, but by the end the overall message of self love healed a small part of me. The visuals were strong and the actors did a wonderful job.

Favourite Moment:

Obvious perhaps, but no one can deny the beauty of this moment. Just the pure relief and joy I felt, made it one of my favourites of the year.

The one with all the yearning

The Time of Fever

I was so normal about this show. First let me just say, that I don't think of this show as a prequel. I know it is one, but I prefer to think of it as its own thing. This show drove me crazy. I suffered through it twice, and I kept finding new things that drove me insane. The yearning, the pining, the love these two have for each other that can only be rivalled by the fear they both share. Hotae is afraid of his feelings, because he can't understand them or can't accept them, but he also can't resist the pull. Donghee is afraid because he does understand, but he also knows what it means, so he needs to protect his friend from all the ugliness he himself has endured. And the actors just portrait these emotions so well. Truly some of the best acting I've seen this year. The camera work is outstanding, the framing always intentional and the lighting is good enough to break your heart.

Favourite Moment:

The heater between them??? Incredible. I'm still in awe of this whole scene. From the feeding of the orange slice to the kiss itself and their body language right to their expressions at the end. It was a flawless scene.

The one with all the trauma

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo

Every week I was filled with excitement and dread waiting for new episodes. It was a painful journey for them and for me. Such a raw depiction of how trauma follows you long after you left the place where you endured it behind you. Closure is such an overused word, because it always sounds like there's a switch you can flip, and you're fine. Like it's that simple. The way Dohoe carried all of the abuse with him, how he shaped his life around it unconsciously, all along believing he was healing himself, it was heartbreaking to watch. And JuYeong. The boy who waited. The boy who understood and gave him the space to heal. Time stopped for 12 years for both of them. But they have a lifetime left to heal together and find happiness in the simple act of loving and being loved by each other.

Favourite Moment:

The symbolism destroyed me. The cross, the wall, the confession. Masterful.

The one that wasn't like the others

Love In The Big City

I don't even know what to say any more. It was an amazing adaption. Stellar acting, great script, gorgeous visuals. It's messy and it all feels so real. Young is one of my favourite characters of all time, both the one from the book and the one from the series. I wanted to hug him and hit him over the head at several points. I did appreciate the bigger presence of the T-aras, it left me more hopeful than the novel. I'm still not over the break up though.

Favourite Moment:

The honesty, the unconditional acceptance. To watch Young experience it for the first time was overwhelming.

Honourable mention to Boys Be Brave that I adored. And the only reason is not in this list is because of the second couple. They needed more time, and even with the time they had I thought the writing of that storyline was a bit messy. But I loved the mains.

Be back soon with the next one. Maybe💜

[mrsnancywheeler]

the lakes (8) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous part / next part

prequel

4.6k words

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, manipulation of someone's feelings, drinking away problems, mental illness, mentions of suicidal ideations, savior complex Finnick and reader, codependent relationship, allusions to trafficking and forced sexualization of body, mentions of death/violence happening to children, unedited, no use of y/n, arguments, self-hate, self-doubt, a love triangle that really isn't a love triangle

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Oh, you look so beautiful." Cambrie was crying, actually crying. Standing behind you in the mirror, staring the the gorgeous dress she'd designed. You wanted to cry too because even if she'd always treated you more like a doll than a living, breathing person it did hurt to know you'd never see her familiar presence again. 

“You did an amazing job, Cambrie, it reminds me of home." Truthfully the dresses shimmery deep blue did make you think of the waters of home and the seaweed and pearl based jewelry was a nice touch. Of course it was a too low cut for your liking and regardless of the colors would be completely translucent if the light hit it right, it was stunning.

“You really think so?" Her eyes were full of tears and you nodded your head turning to hug her.

“Yes, thank you." It pained you too think about how even if she never treated you fully human she would still be deeply hurt by your death. Her favorite muse.

“I don't know who I'm going to model my designs off of anymore, unless you come back or course, but you make it so easy." Of course she had ulterior motives, but it was somewhat amusing to hear her problems when yours were so much more lethal. She pulled away from you, “I wanted to go more bridal, but President Snow wanted Katniss wearing her wedding dress, so we're going to go for the more subtle route.”

It wasn't subtle in the slightest, a similarly shimmering, translucent veil was in your hair although not covering your face and adorned with sea thrift. Your arms had bouquet-like bracelets of yarrow, lavender, and sea oats from your shoulders down to your wrists. Then there were the sandals covered in pearls and seashells, if it hadn't been purposefully forced to be more sensual you would have genuinely loved it. More of a “natural" makeup look had been preferred to create the essence of more of a sweet mermaid than a sultry, seductive siren.

Suddenly you could feel the tears threatening to pour over, “I wish you would have been able to just design my wedding dress with normal circumstances. Thank you for this.” 

"Oh you're such a sweetheart, I can't fathom how they could do this again to such a sweet girl. Everyone loves you, there's so much outrage. You'll certainly have lots of sponsors.” She cupped your face, shaking her head sadly. "We'd best be on our way.” She sighed, leading you out of the room for the last time.

There all the tributes stood waiting in their line, Katniss was already waiting in her wedding gown. She caught you staring at the dress, "Snow made me wear it.” 

"Make him pay for it.” Johanna remarked ok the side, in another one of the tree related get ups her designer has such an attachment too. She looked you up and down,"Even in death they just can't leave you alone?” It was true, you were basically naked if people were staring at the way the colors caught the light.

“Just making sure to squeeze out every last drop before I go." One last glance at the body they'd controlled before you took it back forever. Johanna scoffed.

“Make him pay for that too." You took your place in the line next to Finnick, whose shirt was heavily unbuttoned.

“Is this our own wedding get-up?" He asked, arm sliding around your waist. You hummed a yes as you pecked at his lips.

“Do you like it?" You asked, hand playing with his sleeve.

“You look stunning. Do you like it, would it be your top contender when I finally get you that real dress?" He asked, a loving grin adorning his face. 

“Maybe, if it wasn't so see-through. Reminds me of home though.” Finnick nodded in agreement.

“Look like you came straight from the moonlit waters, angel." You rested into his warm arms which were a godsend when the fabric did even less to protect you from the chill in the air. Cashmere and Gloss both proclaimed how difficult it would be to let go of their friends from the Capitol. How they were all like brothers and sisters to them, trying to further manipulate the audience's feelings into somehow getting them to prevent the games. Snow would never let that happen, but taking a shot at it couldn't hurt. Enobaria and Brutus both acted like it was a normal game, with just as much intensity as they had the first round. Wiress was rambling on and on, sometimes coherently, but the audience simply laughed like it were some huge joke about how unstable she was. Beetee’s rationalization took hold, talking about all he had done, all he'd offered to the Capitol, and questioned how legal this type of Quarter Quell was, couldn't it just be unwritten since it would have such a negative effect? Finnick rubbed circles on your arm as you nervously tapped your foot. “You've got this, my love." He reassured you as you were lead to wait off stage.

“Our very own Capitol Princess!” Caesar Flickerman’s voice blared and you put on your most charming smile to enter as he said your name. Waving at the audience, blowing kisses. The cheering soon calmed down and he turned to look at you, “Now, I think we're all a little bit upset with you and your husband. Aren't we?" The audience gave out enthusiastics agreements. 

“I'm sorry!" You giggled, breathily. “We didn't want to take away attention from the star-crossed lovers."

“Oh we have enough love for the both of you!" The audience cheered in agreement.

You looked out at the crowd, “And we love you! It breaks my heart to know we won't get to share our journey with you." The tears that wanted to spill about other things you willed to appear now.

“So a secret marriage? How did that come about?" Caesar asked after the ooh’s and aww’s had quieted.

“We just knew that if we were going to die in the arena, we needed to be one with each other, and the waters." The first tears began to roll, “Now that we know we can't ever again have those moments. Especially to share them all with you." You could vaguely see tears on obscured faces and you knew it was working. "We'd been quietly planning how we'd get engaged in front of all of you, but when the Quarter Quell announcement came it just couldn't wait. So now we can't do the dress, and the wedding, and the house decorating, and the kids with all of you.” Wiping away the tears falling down.

"We'll certainly mourn that just as much, won't we?” The crowd boomed with agreement and cries. "One more thing, last time you were here you were also going into the arena with a romance, now it's happening all over again, does that add to the emotions we’re feeling tonight? The idea that if you win you'll have lost another love?”

Your tears glistened under the lights as you nodded, "All I have to say about that Caesar is that I have no intentions of leaving that arena if I can't be with him. We are one and I couldn't bear to live my life without knowing I'd see him everyday. This hurts so bad because I know it'll be my last time seeing all of your kind faces.” By now the audience was sobbing and suddenly the tears began feeling real, creeping up on you.

Caesar nodded solemnly, “And we'll be sorry to see you go. Ever romantic, our Capitol Princess!" Tears were blinding you and it was difficult to find your way to the pedestals where the other tributes were standing. Suddenly your face was being held and honey tasting lips were on yours, Finnick. You could hear the audience cooing and crying, he wiped the tears once he pulled away and led you to where you needed to stand.

"Sorry, Ceaser I couldn't help myself." His warm voice filled the room, his gorgeous smile being zoomed in on by the cameras.

“Oh no worries! Making ever the entrance, Capitol darling Finnick Odair!" The audience let out a resounding cheer for him. “Finnick, can I be honest?"

“Of course, Caesar." That gorgeous, sunshine smile rested on his face and it was no wonder it left the Capitol citizens swooning for more.

“I don't know what we're going to do if you don't come back. Right?” The audience loudly agreed and Finnick chuckled. "I mean you've been such a favorite, both of you have, and the world will not be the same without it.” How ironic, if it would be so painful then they really should make more of an effort to put a stop to it, but they wouldn't.

"I'm very sorry about that Ceaser, but my hands are tied. If we could, we would spend every moment with all of you, we're so grateful for your love.” A bold-faced lie, every party to keep up appearances, each call from the Capitol was far more draining then just spending a peaceful day together which could be endless.

“We wish you could too. Being married in the arena, how's that going to work? I mean we've heard from her that there's no grand plan for her to come back, but I assume as the husband you might have something to say about that?" This elicited a laugh from the audience and Finnick nodded.

“Well certainly, Caesar, what kind of husband would I be if I let her have her way in that? I will say, my love, you have my heart for all eternity, and if I die in that arena, my last thought will be of your lips.” You were sick, honestly nauseated with grief. This was so unfair, you'd tried not to think about it, but in just over 12 hours you'd be forced back into the arena and risk losing each other.

"We wish you the best luck with that." People were weeping in the audience and Finnick's face had become so sober that it was jarring how naturally it fell back into an easy smile. “That's Finnick Odair, Capitol darling." Soon he was right beside you on the podium, kissing you again for the audience to be giddy with joy, but also hearts ruptured for the lovers torn apart for only the first time of the night. You could taste your salty tears mixing with the honeycomb of his lips before he pulled away, giving another grin to the audience.

His hand stayed intertwined with yours, but something wasn't quite right about his demeanor. Even if physically he kept up the same presence as always you could feel the shift in his aura, in his touch. He was upset, but not in the way you were. You couldn't stop yourself from continually glancing over at him, silently trying to get his attention so you could see what was wrong. Squeezing his hand with yours to try and get a response when he finally did meet your eyes it hit you that the look was disappointment, dread and when you shot a quizzical look back he looked like he was going to cry as he put his focus back on the stage.

You were stuck in your own head no, had it been something you said? Did? It was all for the performance which he had to know. Your foot was tapping and you were zoning out of the interviews until all the sudden the audience was shrieking. Katniss’ wedding dress disappeared in clouds of black smoke and when they disappeared the dress had transformed. Upon lifting her arms you could see what it was, a mockingjay. A public symbol of the rebellion, Caesar was trying to cover, but the cameras already would have caught it.

One more interview before the night would be over and you'd wait to be shipped back off to the arena where certain death awaited you. Charming Peeta insisted that he and Katniss too had a secret wedding to have the traditions of District 12. The audience ate each crumb he gave right out of his hands when suddenly he made the world stop, “If it weren't for the baby." Shock, outrage filled the room. All of these people who'd been fine watching children fight to the death and suffer after they won for personal entertainment couldn't stand the fact that Katniss could be pregnant. The irony of it all, how smart Peeta had been on his feet made it hard for you to suppress the smile. As Caesar desperately tried to do damage control once again you noticed how everyone of the tribute's hands began linking, placing your free hand in Beetee’s who bobbed his head before holding Wiress’. Hands joined, you lifted them above your head increasing the audience's screams and Caesar was yelling for lights to be turned off, all this did was illuminate your figures in the low lights. 

Then you were being filed off of the pedestals and to the hallway. You instantly met eyes with Haymitch, holding some glass filled with some type of drink. You didn't say a word to him before taking it from his hand to take a drink. 

“Dealing with pre-game jitters with alcohol really seems like a great idea." He said sardonically, scoffing. He didn't try and grab the drink back though even when you scowled at him. Right when you'd taken another drink of the bubbly liquid it was Finnick who took the drink from your hand, handing it back to Haymitch. "What? Trouble in paradise?” He took a drink too.

“Just need you to be rational instead of hungover in the morning.” Finnick muttered, he was angry at something, that much was obvious. 

Haymitch took something off of his wrist and handed it to Finnick, “Show her this and she'll realize I gave it to you, since she won't ally with you of her own accord." It was a gold bangle and Finnick nodded as he slid it on his wrist. They were whispering something to each other and you pulled away to an Avox holding a tray of more bubbly drinks nearby. Grabbing one you nodded a thank you, swallowing it down as fast as you could before Finnick had grabbed it again, looking at you sternly.

“I'm not going to be hungover.” You rolled your eyes and he handed the second, nearly empty glass to Haymitch as well.

"Well you don't exactly make great decisions for yourself.” You rolled your eyes at him as he ran his fingers through his curls.

"What's your problem? I made them sympathetic, I did what I was supposed to!” You couldn't fathom why that would upset him, it was a performance and he did the same thing.

"You have a death wish, that's the problem, I'm not letting you die for me!” You stared into his gorgeous sea-green eyes and scoffed before turning around to walk straight back to your floor.

"Thank you, Haymitch.” You heard Finnick say before he was following you to the elevator.

"You're really gonna argue with me about what I said in the interview right before we head back into the arena?" You pressed the cold buttons before crossing your arms, refusing to look at him.

“When this started I begged you to talk to me, to stop punishing yourself for whatever you did six years ago to survive, but you still are. You didn't say anything until right before we headed back into the arena, informing the world all about how you plan to die in there.” The elevator opened and he stepped in as you followed.

“I don't plan too, I just expect it. I'm not going to keep going if you die."

“Yes, you are, Annie needs you, Mags needs you." He pointed to the bangle quickly to put off anyone who could be listening in, “Needs you. This insistence that you're going to die is ridiculous, angel, I'm not going to let you.”

             𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You stood backstage with Conway, having to consciously force your leg to stay still, to not keep tapping as you waited to do on stage. The air was chilly which wasn't helped by the thin material of your dress, it's low-cut, or the huge slit in it's side at least Conway got to be in a suit. Your eyes were glued to the screen where the male tribute from District 3 had just begun his interview.

“Now, how old are you?" Caesar asked, the boy was small, he couldn't be that old, it looked like the seat was going to swallow him whole.

“Thirteen." His voice was shaky and your ears started ringing. How were you supposed to do this, that was a child, a tiny kid whose family was sitting back home watching their baby boy be shipped off to certain death. You could feel the tears approaching and your breathing getting more shallow. Cold hands were suddenly on yours.

“Are you okay?" Conway asked, as you began to hyperventilate.

“I can't do this." You whispered out as the first tears began falling, “That's a little boy, I can't-"

“I get it." Conway reassured, his big, brown eyes trying to comfort you. “You've got this though, you can't do anything about him being here, but you can make a good impression with the audience. We have to focus on that no matter how screwed up you feel like it is. Go up there and do what you have to do.” What you have to do, charm them, be sweet, and pretty, but a little mysterious. Finnick had all types of angles for you. You gave a final look back at Conway who tried to give a reassuring smile, but you could tell he was bothered too. Caesar's booming voice called your name and you stepped out into the bright lights of the stage. Beaming for the audience, waving, giggling at their cheers.

“I have to say, everyone was blown away with how charming you seemed at the tribute parade, but then that training score came out. How did you do that?" Caesar asked as the two of you sat down, the audience murmuring in agreement. 

“Well, Caesar, a lady has to have some secrets for herself." You made your laugh airy and winked at the laughing audience. “I have to save some things for the show, don't I?"

Caesar nodded, laughing along. "Of course! You know when I saw your face at the reaping I couldn't help but feel like I recognized you from somewhere, did anyone else feel that way?” The audience cheered out agreements and your stomach knotted. What was he talking about? You certainly didn't know how they knew you. "I mean this was literally keeping me up at night.”

You leaned forward, the dress putting a little too much on display, but you persisted. "Well do tell.”

"Months ago we were doing a catch up piece of Finnick Odair and you were in some of it, very briefly, but you were.” The audience was wild, they adored Finnick and loved any type of connection. Your stomach clenched, how were you supposed to seem in love with Conway when this was being chosen for you.

You blushed, “Oh yes, Caesar! I didn't imagine anyone would remember that!" 

"Well we did and we love it!” He proclaimed and the audience agreed. "So tell me, just between us-” The audience laughed and you did too. "Are you and a certain victor pining for your return to tell us all some very exciting news?” You shook your head slowly, trying not to look as embarrassed as you felt. “No? I don't believe that, look at you, charming and obviously extremely talented. There was definitely something going on when that program came out, not anymore?" Time was running out and this was not going the way you planned.

So new plan, “No, Ceasar.” Your voice was light and sounded shaky on purpose. You shook your head.

"Oh, so this is a tale of heartbreak?” He asked and the audience cooed. "Well if you win, he'll have to take you back won't he? I'm sure we won't let up until he does!” He laughed and the crowd seemed to agree with him. 

“I'm afraid it's much more complicated than that." You smoothed out your dress even if it needed no smoothing.

"Oh! Is there another man as well, we live for the drama!” You nodded slowly.

"Yes and I'm afraid winning won't help me in either case.” You were alluding and there was only a few seconds left. Caesar stood up.

"Well now you have to win this thing, so we can all know about this tale of romance. It's going to be keeping me on the edge of my seat!" 

“And I'd love to share it with all of you." You let a few tears fall as you blew a kiss out to the audience who adored it. The two of you bowed as you walked off the stage. Heart pounding rapidly as you were escorted out to the hall where Finnick, Ondine, and your designer Cambrie stood.

“Oh you looked divine!" Cambrie announced, hands on your shoulders. “All of my friends are going to want to sponsor you, I'm certain you'll be the talk of Panem, leaving us on a cliffhanger like that!" She was basically shrieking in joy when she got distracted by some hors d'oeuvres an Avox was holding.

You buried your head in your hands as Finnick approached, “I didn't know they were going to side swipe you like that. It could be good for your image though." You were now hyper aware of the eyes on the both of you even if technically he was your mentor just giving you advice.

“Could be bad for that, unless he picked up what I was putting down." You pointed at the screen where Conway sat with Caesar.

“So Conway, I'm sure all of us were very impressed by your training score, a big, strong man like you, what's your strategy?" Caesar asked and the audience made comments under their breath, acting as if they were also part of the conversation. 

“Let's just say I know what I'm up against and am confident in the people I've decided to trust." Looking at him made you see flashes of your childhood, of him crabbing with your family as kids, hair billowing in the wind as he made sure you didn't slip on the water covering the boat’s deck.

Caesar nodded, “Well alright, making us wait for tomorrow as well?"

Conway smiled that kind, loving smile he gave everyone, “I guess you could say that.”

"Now everyone is dying to know if you have a special girl back home, I mean you’re a good looking guy and even girls in the Capitol are swooning.”

"Well, it's a lot more complicated than that, Caesar.” Conway and his boyish charm was sure to bring in more sponsors as well. Caesar took a second, looking at Conway and the audience with as much drama as he could, like he was slowly connecting the dots.

“You're not saying what I think you're saying are you?" He asked and the crowd screamed in agreement, eating it up.

Conway adjusted his shirt collar, “Regretfully, I might be."

“Well isn't this straight out of a fairytale." A dark, corrupted one if that. “That sure complicates things doesn't it?"

Conway nodded, “Yes."

“You're certainly going to be keeping all of us on our toes, a love triangle. Well I certainly wish you the best of luck in your endeavors." Caesar laughed. What luck? Only one ‘choice’ would be alive if you won.

“Thank you, Caesar. All I can say is even if it's doomed, hopefully she doesn't pick the one who already broke her heart.” Even if it wasn't meant that way to you it felt threatening, hopefully you didn't or he'd be forced to kill you? You honestly had no idea what the best outcome was, maybe him asking you to take care of his family before sacrificing himself? But now you were overtly aware that you not only had him observing you, but all of Panem desperately wanting to know where you would land. 

            𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You were laying on the bed, hands covering your face as Finnick went on and on about how self-destructive you were. Maybe he was right, but you didn't see why it mattered. It's not like you were going to do anything intentional, you'd just do what you could to get Katniss out of the arena alive and be with Finnick.

“How are we supposed to do this if you don't believe you can survive?” He was pacing the room,"The moment that gong rings you need to come find me, I need my eyes on you.”

"I will, Finnick! But you need to focus on other things too.” You defended, sighing.

"How am I supposed to do that when the person I love the most is a danger to herself?” He stopped moving for a moment to stare at you, even with your face hidden in your hands you could feel his eyes burning into you.

You finally moved your hands,"I'm not! I just want to go to sleep, Finnick, can't we just rest?"

“We can sleep when I can rest well knowing you're not going to make impulsive decisions or give up if I get hurt. Don't be dependent on my life, angel, you deserve to live." You stood up only to walk to the open bathroom door and begin removing your makeup. 

“I don't know what you want me to say, Finnick." He followed you and stood behind you watching you in the mirror. You were passive to his pleas, you couldn't understand why it mattered so much to him. If he died it's not like he would know if you did too and if he lived there were plenty of other women who would be glad to comfort him, plus the revolution would keep him distracted.

There was a pause as you continued with your routine before he removed the bottle from your hands and turned you to face him, he'd always been much stronger than you and there was no use trying to release yourself. 

“That your life matters to you just as much as it does to me and I want you to believe it when you say it."

You sighed, “Finnick I will do whatever you tell me to do, I'll stay right by your side if you want me too. All I want is to be with you, that's all that matters to me."

He closed his eyes, exhaling shakily, “I can't believe I let us get so codependent." You watched a tear make its way down his cheek and felt you swarmed with guilt. “I can't make this better overnight no matter how badly I want to, but I do want you by me every second in that arena. Don't you dare go sacrificing yourself for someone, anyone. Angel, I can't live without you either.” His warm arms brought you to him, caught in his embrace as the guilt overwhelmed the numbness. "We're both getting out of there alive, no matter what it takes.” He whispered and although your brain told you not to believe him, to accept your fate you would trust him to the grave so you nodded your head into his shoulder. 

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading and all the support I've been receiving, I love you all so much and am glad you're enjoying my little thoughts. next chapter we can finally get into the games of it all, not gonna like this chapter was a lot of fun to write but took forever because I was having too many thoughts. if you enjoyed it feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments are all super appreciated. my inbox is always open! I love you all, thank you again! 💋

taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautfulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @kybermp3 @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @ravensinthedaylight @innercreationflower @uhnanix @aesthetic0cherryblossom @yourdailymemedelivery @ang3lflor @maxinehufflepuffprincess @prettybiching @miserablebl00d

[grumfield]

yearning for the day that we will be able to mock padmes everything in the same way we do the rest of the prequel characters. let women suuuuck. ppl say they support women’s wrongs and then they can’t conceive of female characters actually doubt anything wrong and being a bit of a tiktok girlie tradwife influencer. it’s why you are the truest padme truther up in this bitch ty for your service.

DUDE LITERALLY!!!!! i literally love her so much because she sucks!!! she's literally the sort of girl i would hate in real life!! stepford tradwife with jakey boyfriend for real!! literally people prefer to girlbossify her to make her a Strong Female Character who's secretly interesting because they want star wars to be something it isn't. when really it is what it is. and that is a story that features a sort of flat female character whose entire existence revolves around a man and then she is fridged and either you fuck with that or get out of the kitchen because she is making her annoying husband a sandwich in said kitchen whether you like it or not. like she's stupid she's delusional she doesn't give a fuck about red flags she tries to Stop This Isn't You a guy who killed a bunch of children she was a mediocre politician she wanted to give up her job to be a housewife and mom for a guy who pitched her dictatorships on the second date!!! like i'm sorry she would not be pegging that man (to me) she is so basic tradwife

like also to me the whole point of the prequels is that everyone who's a major player (not Palpatine) is kind of defined by their love for Anakin, and their arcs are inextricable from this. And for some reason people can accept this with being the case with Obi-Wan but CANNOT ACCEPT THIS WITH PADME AND I'M JUST LIKE?? DUDE. ACCEPT THAT GEORGE WROTE HER TO JUST BE HIS WIFE!!! THERE IS NOTHING MORE EVERYTHING ELSE IS TERTIARY TO HER ROLE AS HIS WIFE!!! STOP TRYING TO MAKE HER DIFFERENT THAN WHAT SHE IS!! SHE IS A HOUSEWIFE WHO HAPPENED TO BE A SENATOR AND SHE GOES STOPS THIS ISN'T YOU TO ANAKIN SKYWALKER CHILDKILLER AND IS ANNOYING!!!

[angellayercake]

Into the Lu-niverse

@ghelullu x Cardinal Copia's Black Suit | NSFW | 3000 words

Happy Birthday Lu!! I hope you have had an amazing day full of joy and torturous thoughts of Copia. I know you enjoyed the fic already but here are some bonus gifs from here and it should be known that this is now officially the prequel of Smudge. warnings: copia being sexy in his black suit, blow jobs kinda, hand jobs kinda, jizzing in pants definitely.

You hated him, loathed him, detest and abhor him. You were seething quietly at your desk using every ounce of will power you possess not to look at him right now. When he lets out a muffled aha your resolve breaks and you glance over just in time to watch him roll back upright from where he was bent over digging through the bottom drawer of one of the many filing cabinets that are stuffed into the cramped office.

Not so long ago you had asked why he hadn’t asked for a larger office along with his promotion to the leader of the ghost project but he had brushed you off saying he enjoyed his cosy little office, just enough room for the two of you. At the time you had enjoyed the flush of happiness that had given you but that was before the new wardrobe arrived. Before you realised exactly how much of your day was spent looking directly at him.

This had never not been a problem you supposed, even in his cassock days. He had been awkwardly charming since you first met but the layers of fabric he wore day to day had been protecting your sanity far more than you ever realised. Because his new position had not just brought with it a new schedule, more work, more ghouls and siblings coming and going from the office. It had brought with it a new wardrobe and along with it the stretching of your professionalism to the very limit.

The two of you were friends, well friendly, you thought. Both of you quite reserved taking your time to open up but friendship had been inevitable when you shared so many interests. The tediousness of the endless ministry paperwork fading away as you spent your days discussing the amount of historical inaccuracies in films or attempting to convince him to play games on anything newer than the old console he has. In that lull in the afternoon when both your energy drops you fall into your topic of the day and before you know it your work is done and you reach the worst part of the day. Leaving the office together, watching him methodically lock the door and go your separate ways for the evening.

Today though, that time couldn’t come quick enough. There was only one thing you could focus on and it definitely wasn't any of the work you were supposed to be doing! He had come strutting into the office in his new outfit and in a single moment destroyed all your brain function. He had twirled for you chattering excitedly and you had just sat there paralysed. If you had any sense left you might have felt awkward as he stood there waiting for a reaction. Somehow you managed to choke out something after watching him deflate in front of you before looking back at your work and not letting your eyes stray from your screen even as your mind was screaming and running in circles. 

You were friends, yes, as you had established but that didn’t mean there weren’t a lot of other feelings you had, and actively tried to suppress about the Cardinal. He was incredibly intelligent, always peppering your conversations with random facts and sharing his well thought out opinions with you. Some may have found it annoying but you found his little oohs and aahs endearing finding you can almost follow his train of thought just by listening carefully to his soft mutterings. He was disarmingly sweet, remembering the smallest details about your interests and preferences and surprising you with little gifts from his travels that made your heart swell and your eyes cloud doing your best to hide from him exactly how they affected you because he didn’t need to see you crying over a meaningless gift.

The hardest part to ignore though, harder than anything was how insanely hot he is. Even you can’t rationalise away the way he makes your breath catch if he looks at you a certain way or the urge you get to run your fingers through his hair first thing in the morning when he first takes off his biretta. He looks amazing, always with his carefully groomed moustache and sideburns lending a sharpness to his already defined features. Many times you have found yourself getting lost in his mismatched eyes or watching his full lips as he talks to you but you reign yourself in. Because you have to. As much as he looks good in his cassocks they made your attraction much easier to ignore than the new additions to his wardrobe.   

At a first glance it looked like a simple black suit but every single inch of it was tailored to him perfectly. His dog collar and shirt peaked out from under the stiff collar of his jacket framing his sharp jawline. The jacket itself was intricately designed with boxy sharp shoulders and suede panels that ended on sharp points, the deliberate lines encouraging the eye downwards. At the back the coattails reached down to his knees in similar dramatic points.

And the trousers, well, every stolen glance offered you a full view of all of him. They flared slightly at his ankle but from mid shin they clung to him like a second skin. You could see his shapely calves, knobbly knees, surprisingly thick toned thighs. Thighs had never been a problem for you before but you had to clench your fists to quell the urge to reach out and squeeze any time he came close. His ass was another surprise, how a man who spent as much time sitting in an office as he did had a shape like that you couldn’t understand and at his crotch, well the less you thought about that the better. 

You powered through your day doing your best to ignore the pointed looks he was giving you, clearly concerned by your unusual silence but you pushed through, thankful for once at the amount of work that has come across your desk today. You even work through your lunch only giving him a kurt thank you when he places a sandwich and a drink at the corner of your desk. The afternoon passes awkwardly as he attempts to lure you into conversation but you just can’t deal with him even as guilt starts to creep in at the edges of your mind. 

You watch the time on your screen click slowly towards an acceptable time for you to leave, doing your best to seem as absorbed in your work as possible until the number finally reaches five o’clock. You jump up from your desk like it is on fire, gathering your things as quickly as you can so you can make your escape. You can feel his eyes on you but you have to get away but quicker then you could think he is in your path. Not quite getting between you and the door but quite deliberately in your way he fixes you with an intense expression that pins you to the spot.

“Have I done something to upset you?” He asks, his voice filled with confusion and a touch of sadness. You immediately feel guilty but you are at a loss of how you can even begin to talk your way out of this. 

“No Cardinal it’s nothing.” Being confronted like this you can’t help but look him over. It’s one thing to bury your crush when he was draped in the layers of his fabric, you can pretend you just have a friendly relationship but looking him up and down in front of you sends an electric bolt of lust that is not as easy to ignore. 

“Then what is it?” His gaze is piercing and it is impossible to hide from. He watches you look him over and tilts his head like he has just figured something out. “Is it this?” he gestures up and down his body. “The new suit? Do you not like it?” A humourless laugh barks out of you beyond your control and he only looks more confused.

"No I ... I do, I swear, it's just…" You feel your face flush realising you are going have to either come up with something convincing very quickly or even worse, tell the truth. 

"...because I was a little worried it might be too tight…" He continues barely listening to your mumbling attempts at reassurance.

"No, it's, um... it's good," which hardly sounds better. Your tongue feels like lead, entirely uncooperative as you try to halt the self conscious spiral you seem to have started in him.

"It does show off quite a lot, you're right." His shoulders hunch as he smooths his hands down his stomach before patting at the curve of his belly. 

"No that's not what I said, but I mean, yes it does, but that's not…" You hiss in frustration at your inability to articulate anything. 

"Perhaps I don't have the body to pull this off…" He twists side to side looking himself over and you are sure counting off imaginary flaws he thinks you must be seeing.

"No you do, you really do, Copia will you just…" You take a deep breath even as he cuts you off again. You are going to have to tell him.

"Too much rigatone, perhaps if I cut back…" He pats his belly again and even in the middle of your pre confession panic you can’t help but find him a little adorable. As if he could look anything other than perfect. That was the whole problem.

"...No you look great, you have a great body…" Your cheeks flush even as you say it, part of you unable to believe you managed to get the words out. He pauses, attention suddenly focused back on you.

"I... I do?" He takes a step closer to you and your eyes drop to the ground. 

"W-well, um... yeah..." you stutter, all your confidence evaporating as quickly as it came.

"You've never said that before,” you can’t decide if he means it as a statement or a question but you fumble to fill the silence he has now left.

"Well you've always worn those cassocks and I've never seen you... like this...." You still can’t look at him so you gesture vaguely at him hoping it might be enough to convince him and allow you to finally escape. You were already planning the excuse you could use to call in sick tomorrow and maybe even the rest of the week. You weren’t sure when you would feel able to face him again.

"Are you lying? You're not looking at me." He steps closer again until his toes enter your narrow field of vision and you know if you were to look up you would be face to face. 

"No, damnit Copia, I'm not lying, you just..." You are at a loss for words, how do you even begin to tell him?

"What?" His gloved hand reaches for your chin gently, coaxing you to look up at him. You look into his eyes and you are done for, the cold white piercing through you even as his green eye seems softer, almost encouraging. 

"You look good, okay? Too good. Too damn good that it's distracting, and sexy and..." It’s like word vomit tumbling out of your mouth and beyond your control.

"Sexy? I'm... sexy?" Of course that is the part he gets stuck on.

"For fucks sake," you mutter warring between frustration and affection for this ridiculous man.

"You think I'm sexy?" he says his voice filled with disbelief. "You think.... I'm sexy," he continues teasingly stroking your chin softly and not letting you avert your gaze from him. "How long have you thought that?"

“If you are going to tease me I won’t say another thing,” you huff but the smug grin spreading across his face has the corners of your lips pulling up in spite of your protest.

 "But this suit... you find it distracting?" He runs his hands over his body like he can read your mind, sliding down his chest, across his belly and over his thighs.

"Yes. Very" Your mouth goes dry as you start to realise how much he is enjoying your confession.  

"Well then consider this my revenge." You shift back in confusion, tilting your head at him, but he reels with an arm around your waist until you are almost pressed against him.

"Revenge? For what?" You ask genuinely bemused by the turn of the conversation

"The way you have distracted me every day, listening to me talk, laughing at my jokes flashing me that beautiful smile…" He makes his intentions clear, tipping your head towards him, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips and back again. When you don’t pull away he closes the distance between you, capturing your lips in a much sweeter chaste kiss then you had been expecting. For a moment you don’t react, hardly able to believe what is finally happening but eventually you catch up, running your hands up his chest to feel that perfect tailoring for yourself. The kiss deepens naturally, his tongue teasing you until you open up for him as he pulls you closer, his large hands squeezing where they have come to rest at your waist.  

“Why don’t I show you exactly how much I like it?” You whisper, pulling away just enough to get some air between you. With one finger against his chest you walk him backwards until he is leant against his desk. He watches you with heavy lidded eyes and you swallow hard, still somewhat in disbelief that he wants you too as you drop to your knees and finally give in to the thoughts that had been threatening to plague you all day. 

Your first touch is tentative, following the seam up the centre of his thigh with the tip of your finger and watching him tremble under your barest touch. Flattening your palms you feel the strong muscle just underneath the soft surface when you squeeze gently at his thighs and bask in the soft moan you draw from him. You let your fingers run over the zipper of his trousers allowing yourself the privilege of actually looking now and the sight makes your mouth water. He is already thickening in his trousers, his shaft growing fat where it is held against his leg by the tight fabric. You can see everything, even more pronounced now as he becomes aroused, the shape of his head pushing against the fabric and leaving a faint wet spot and his balls sit heavy on the other side of his inseam. 

You cup them gently in your hand feeling the weight of him against your palm even as he strains against the fabric. He shifts against the desk spreading his legs for you, giving you enough room to get as close as you like. With just the tip of your tongue you lap at his head and are treated to just the faintest taste of his precum that has leaked into his trousers and you can’t help but moan. Between the slow steady massage of your fingers on his balls and your teasing licks you feel him growing harder against his thigh. Mouthing down his length you marvel at the size of him, the tip of his cock now sitting a good way down his thigh. 

You risk looking up at him and get captivated by the sight. He is watching you intently, his pupils blown so wide you can barely see the different colours of his eyes. His hair has fallen out of his usual slicked back style and falls across his face swaying in time with his panting breaths. He blinks at you as if confused as to why you have stopped and his gloved hand weaves its way into your hair, easing your slackend mouth back against him as he begins to plead with you. 

“Please don’t stop,” he gasps even as you begin to nuzzle at him once again, following the shape of him with the tip of your nose as he whines. You stroke his length with dextrous fingers until he starts to push his hips up slowly, thrusting and grinding against your palm. If you thought he was sexy before it had nothing on this, watching him come undone just for you. You close your mouth over the head of his cock again, the wet patch having grown significantly larger and the taste of him stronger. His thrusts become more insistent, his grip in your hair tightening and his other hand landing on your shoulder keeping you exactly where he wants you. The hand not held firmly between his strong thighs slides up underneath the tails of his jacket until you grip his perfect ass and pull him even closer. 

“Oh c…cazzo,” he stutters out. You are both getting too carried away, you should at least undo his trousers but the thought of breaking contact with him for even a second seems unthinkable as his hips start to stutter against your face. His trousers are sodden now between your spit and his precum so you taste as well as feel when he starts to cum, twitching and moaning against you. You can’t stop sucking him, feeling the pulses of aftershock against your tongue until he guides you away when his pleasure gets obscured by oversensitivity. 

“Amore,” he chuckles breathlessly, looking down at you with undisguised affection, making your heart almost beat out of your chest. "You ruined my new trousers.” The two of you dissolve into giggles, giddy from the sudden new turn your relationship has taken. You rest your forehead against his soft tummy as you both catch your breath.

“I can’t say I am sorry,” you say with a grin almost splitting your face.

“And I can’t say I am disappointed.” He sighs, lifting you back to your feet with surprising ease. “But I do have to return the favour.” He smirks before pulling you into another perfect kiss.

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Triad Part 1 — How You Met Cas and Az

A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon

Series Masterlist

A/N: This is a headcanon on steroids, haha! Kind of a prequel in the same universe as this one. I’ve got a few more in the works but feel free to shoot me an ask if you have any requests!

You met Cassian and Azriel when you were sent from your tiny border village to Velaris, hand-picked by Madja as one of her healer’s apprentices.

Cassian first; even through teeth gritted against pain, he’d been a shameless flirt.

“Wow, you’re really good with your hands,” he said, flashing a cheeky grin over his shoulder as you wrapped it in a bandage to keep it stable while his muscles finished healing.

You patched him up a few more times before meeting Az, but eventually the Shadowsinger showed up with a gash in his back, bisecting his wings.

It was clearly not an injury from active combat, nor did it seem like torture. It was a threat. Using power for power’s sake.

You’d made eye contact, and your eyes drooped at the corners like you knew not to mention it, but your concern needed to express itself somehow. Like your empathy for others was woven into your skin.

When you finished your apprenticeship, Rhysand offered you a job in his court as a field healer. Later, you’d learn it was Azriel who’d recommended you.

In hindsight, you should have seen it sooner. When Rhys needed a job done right, no questions asked, he sent his dream team. The general, the spy, and the healer.

You spent 5 decades convinced the connection between the three of you was purely platonic.

It was Azriel who started suspecting the mating bond first. He felt his shadows tugging him towards you like they’d already sniffed you out. They never listened properly around you unless someone was in mortal danger; preferring to lap at your feet like gentle waves. Sometimes, one would escape from his grasp and snake its way up your body and you’d giggle—it was over for him the first time heard it. So he kept quiet, either biding his time until the bond snapped and proved him right or left him doomed to an eternity of pining.

You were worth the risk.

Cassian, on the other hand, went straight to Rhys when he started suspecting. Just barged right into the High Lord’s study like he owned the place and draped himself over the armchair in the corner.

“What’s wrong, brother?” Rhys asked, secretly grateful for a distraction; he’d been doing paperwork all morning

“I just got done training with Y/N,” Cassian grumbled.

“Congratulations, or I’m sorry that happened?”

“I dunno, it’s been weird lately. Like my siphons aren’t working properly, or something. I can feel my magic flowing through my body when I’m around her and… it’s so fucking stupid, Rhys, but…” Cas trailed off, too afraid to say the words in case they weren’t true.

“You’re wondering if it could be the mating bond?” Cas buried his head in his hands and nodded. Rhys laughed at him. “Well, just from looking at you I think that it probably is, but I can take a look and see if your magic looks any different.”

“Do it.” There was no hesitation. He had to know.

Rhys slipped into Cassian’s mind and it was pure chaos. The red threads of his magic were tangled up with shimmering gold and deep violet.

Rhys pulls out and Cassian’s head snaps up, wide eyes locking on Rhys’s. Cas’s face lit up sight of the High Lord’s shit-eating smirk.

“Really?” he asked, letting the words escape atop a soft exhale.

“Congratulations, brother,” Rhys confirmed.

Cassian attempted to keep it a secret; he didn’t want to force you into anything you’re not ready for or cloud your judgement. But, Mother, he wanted to scream it from the top of Ramiel and let all of Prythian know that you’re his.

So one night, when he and Az were in Windhaven to check on Devlon, he spilled his secret over pints of ale in front of the fire at Rhys’s mother’s cottage.

“Wanna know a seeeeecret?” He slurred, lifting one finger off his glass to point at Az, squinting at the shadowsinger from across the room.

“You’re keeping a secret?” Az asked, one eyebrow raising alongside the corners of his lips. His expectations were low; most of the time, Cassian’s “secrets” were only secret to the male himself — he was usually the last to know.

But when Cassian leans forward and whispers, “Y/N’s my mate,” it takes all of Azriel’s hard-earned self control to keep his magic to himself. The bond was angry, wanted to lash out, but he forced an amused smile onto his lips and mumbled his congratulations into another sip of ale.

After that, Az tried so hard to keep his shadows under control. After all, he had only started suspecting his own bond a few weeks ago, and it’s not like he laid any claim to you, or anything, but… His magic seemed to think otherwise, and the longer he kept it contained, the harder it got to control.

And then the bond snapped while the three of you were on a mission together in the mortal lands. It didn’t snap for you, though, so they try to act normal around each other but it’s SO HARD, like their magic is butting them against each other. (It is, because they’re stupid).

Rhysand picked up on it as soon as you returned, the tension between the two of them that hadn’t been there when you left. Both men came to him with their concerns, and even though he suspected that there weren’t two separate bonds but one single thread of gold tying the three of you together, he kept quiet. He sat back, watching as their glares and muttered insults turned to heated arguments.

You were baffled at the abrupt change in their dynamic. You suspected it had something to do with a female, but that was none of your business. They’d eventually work out their differences; they were brothers, after all.

A part of you, deep down, felt burning, white-hot rage every time you thought about her, this nameless, faceless female. You bury the burn in work; whenever you’re not in the field, you pick up extra shifts with Madja, healing until you’re too exhausted to do anything but grab a sandwich from the cafe near your apartment and fall into bed. It’s the only way sleep comes without a fight.

It takes a few weeks for the pressure building between them to boil over; your shift is almost over when the two Illyrians show up, bruised and bloody. They stand in the doorway to your office, shoulders hunched and eyes downcast. Something in you snaps at the sight of them, that white-hot anger bursts into raging golden flames.

“What the fuck has gotten into you two lately?” You yell, crossing the small room in two long strides to poke a finger into each of their chests, reveling in the twin winces on their faces.

Cassian opens his mouth to speak but you glare at him to shut him up. “Actually, no, I don’t want to hear it. Whatever it is, you gotta figure that shit out because this is ridiculous.” You pause to take a deep breath before continuing. “The two of you have been so fucking annoying lately, I told Rhys not to send me back out with either of you until you pull your heads out of your asses.”

Like they were two halves of the same whole, their faces fell in unison. Warmth bloomed from your navel inwards, filling you with magic like molten caramel. The last thing you saw before you passed out were the apologies lurking behind their eyes, and then everything went black.

[ryuzakemo128]

Beneath Your Depths ..... Do You Feel Anything?

Pairing: Poly! 141 x Reaper! Forensic Pathologist! Female Reader

Masterlist - Prequel - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Content Warning: Graphic description of you and what you really look like. You are Death aka the pale horse, the grim reaper, the main dude bossing around the little reapers under your employ thing. Prequel to the series of one shot parts I have written before this one.

Note: If you prefer to remain unaware about how I want to depict you. Feel free to skip this one. It won't affect the future parts or anything. Just like an extra plate of food, you are always free to say no thanks, I already have enough here.

I won't add a summary either because I don't want to spoil anything for this one, and I want to know if anyone will like this or not.

You are always certain you knew everything there was to be in life and death. Knowing both worlds so intimately. What else could you be?

Abhorrent. Antediluvian. Colossal. Eldritch by some people's standards. The creature standing before the four of them, the four men, it was nothing like they have ever seen before.

Ethereal. Most of the time you are formless. An incarnate of death in flesh, a silent spectator of mortality's dance. But now, as you stand before the creature, the air thickens, and your form solidifies. Price's eyes narrow, taking in your sudden presence. Soap's hand tightens around his combat knife. Ghost's grip on his rifle relaxes slightly, his gaze flicking to the side to assess the new player. Gaz's eyes, however, light up with an unreadable emotion.

Necromantic as you are in fact one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. You were huge. Bugger than any monster they have come across in the past. So otherworld, outer worldly and powerful, you could feel the tremor of fear emanating from the men. Fear of death. Common among humans. Uncommon amongst other monsters.

What did they have to fear from you? You were just as freakish as they are right?

A primeval they called you. A creature related to the beginning of everything. A creature so old none could possibly comprehend you without taking the overarching risk of madness over taking them.

Some priests and nuns claim you as unholy. But you are as natural as the earth beneath their feet and the air in their lungs.

After you consume someone or something a putrid smell clings to you, your flesh, your bones and the essence of your blood. Yes. You have blood. Yes. You can bleed. No. You are incapable of dying. But you are able to appear dead to anyone who would have or have tried to kill you in the past.

Your exoskeleton is there if someone where to squint hard enough to see the shape beneath the endless smog surrounding your gargantuan form. Born of star and moon, you have no reason to harm outside your predefined nature.

You have no reason of knowing why they were there before you. They weren't supposed to die just yet. There time had not come close to arriving. You knew this. Your body knew this and your soul declined their intrepid touch.

Necrotizing the living and bringing them unto the other side where they were supposed to come to when it was their time to go. Ritualistic in behaviour but never quite fitting in. This creature before them is you.

Predatory in nature much like the sharks, the bears, the wolves, and the many animals that kill in order to endure.

Insidious, malevolent, deranged and yet eerily benevolent. Not outright kind mind you. Death is anything but kind in the hearts and minds of mankind. But for you? It's a job. Its a promise. Its a wish. Its a release.

You don't wish to end things for the sake of ending them. No matter how many might find that hard to believe or reject it completely.

The ghastly chthonic array of the deceased walking past you like you weren't even there. Like you weren't the only who brought them there. A cycle of nature you were in tune with without having to remember the tune or even explain the why of it. Wave after wave like the ocean eroding away stone and metal beneath its watery depths.

Macabre. Visceral.

Charnel. Sepulchral. Thanatoid.

Abysmal in some aspects and reflected in most cultures as something or someone most feared. Yet here you are, a being of the void, standing in front of men who have seen hell and lived to tell the tale. You look into Price's eyes and for a moment, you see a flicker of recognition, a glimmer of understanding that you are not here to do harm but to uphold a balance that has been skewed.

It didn't matter what they thought of you, You have a schedule to keep in time with. You can't afford to mess any of it up. With each heavy footstep away from the four men. Each thump on the ground beneath your feet resonated through the air like a silent drum beat. You felt the tension ease slightly as your form grew more indistinct.

Price spoke up, his voice a gravelly rumble that seemed to echo around the abandoned warehouse. "What the fuck was that?" Soap's eyes didn't leave the spot where you had been standing, knuckles white around the grip of his knife. Ghost was the first to move, holstering his weapon and walking towards the spot where your ethereal presence had been. He knelt down, inspecting the ground with a keen eye.

"Looks like it left something behind," he said, picking up a small, gleaming object that looked out of place amidst the dust and grime. It was a tooth, shaped unlike any creature they had encountered before. The serrated edge and crystalline sheen hinted at a power that was beyond their understanding.

A small piece of obsidian with red under glow just beneath the surface.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

UNDERTALE ASK BLOG - PRESENTATION (2024 UPDATE)

Hello! I’m Myfanwi, 27 years old and adoptive parent of two chinchillas, Thor and Mjöllnir. I have ADHD and I'm currently struggling to have my autism diagnosis.

I’m a French writer (she/they, I don’t care), so my English might be weird sometimes, but I’ll do my best. I’m currently looking for a job in France, and failing it a lot.

I started this blog on February 3rd 2021, and we're still here and active. I'm taking Undertale (canon and AU) headcanon requests from people and answering them with my characters.

The askbox is always open so don't hesitate to participate!

I also write Undertale French fanfiction here and here.

1 - You can ask whatever you want, except heavy sexual things. If I'm not comfortable with an ask, I will say it. You can send as many asks as you want. The askbox is always open, I don't close it.

2 - I’m ok with angst and touchy subjects. I’m also very very LGBT+ friendly (I’m aroace and enby btw).

3 - I don’t do match-ups except during some rare events. I don't do RP interactions (= answering people asking things to the characters directly), only headcanons (= writing things ABOUT the characters).

4 - Please, select a maximum of 12 characters per ask. The character list is right under this section. By default, if not mentioned, I’ll go with the main skeletons: Undertale, Underfell, Underswap, Horrortale, Swapfell & Fellswap Gold Sans & Papyrus.

5 - You can ask for interactions between several of my characters too, even if they are from different alternative universes. For convenience, they are magically all living in the same world. You can have more info right here [The link is coming soon, I'm reworking on it].

6 - I'm fine with personal questions and asks about my fanfictions too!

7 - Fanarts and fanfiction are welcome. Don't hesitate to tag me so I can reblog your art!

8 - If you find a spelling mistake, don't hesitate to point it out. I prefer these comments on recent posts, as I have more than 2000 posts on my blog and can't physically review them all.

Click on a name to get more info about the character!

If there's no link attached to a character's name, please refer to this old post for a small description. The character sheets are currently being rewritten, but it takes time.

Undertale : Sans, Papyrus, Toriel, Asgore, Undyne, Alphys, Frisk (Adult), Chara (Adult), Mettaton, Gaster, Grillby, Muffet, Burgerpants, Asriel, Flowey, Gerson.

Underfell: Sans (Red), Papyrus (Edge), Undyne (Storm), Alphys (Amy), Grillby (Ash)

Underswap: Sans (Blue), Papyrus (Honey), Undyne (Abigail), Alphys (Savage)

Horrortale: Sans (Oak), Papyrus (Willow), Toriel (Old Lady), Grillby (Ember)

Horrorswap: Sans (Nugget), Papyrus (Pumpkin)

Horrorfell: Sans (Copper), Papyrus (Chief)

Horrorswapfell: Sans (Bear), Papyrus (Tiger)

Swapfell: Sans (Nox), Papyrus (Rus)

Fellswap Gold: Sans (Wine), Papyrus (Coffee)

Outertale: Sans (Moon), Papyrus (Sun)

Dancetale: Sans (Rambo), Papyrus (Salsa)

Dancefell: Sans (Rumba), Papyrus (Tango)

Farmtale: Sans (Sam), Papyrus (Ben)

Mafiatale: Sans (Demon), Papyrus (Creeper)

Mafiafell: Sans (Fang), Papyrus (Torpedo)

Other skeletons: Ink, Error, Disbelief!Papyrus (Delta), Dustale!Sans (Dune) - Killer!Sans (Killer)

HELPFUL LINKS

Characters birthdays

MASTERPOSTS

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37

FANFICTIONS

Completed - The Doppelganger [Underfell & Horrortale] | Out of the closet [Undertale] | 7 a.m. in the neighborhood [Undertale]

In progress - Horrortale: Rotten Apple [Horrortale] | What is best for humankind [Undertale prequel] | No weakness [Underfell] | Remember the good days [Undertale] | A heart in a cage [Undertale]

[horizon-verizon]

I don't think I've ever seen such a fandom activity drop-off following a season finale like I have here. I seriously wonder if the HotD writers managed the perfect kind of bad writing that kills a fandom, rather than fan the flames with controversy in a way Season 8 at least managed to do in the short-term. It actually gives post Rise of Skywalker vibes. What's that Jenny Nicholson quote that came out of it? "The worst thing a franchise ending can do is make you feel kind of stupid and embarrassed for being so excited about it in the first place." And we're not even at the end, yet... it kind of feels like it.

In my observations it is because a lot of the season brought up both many of the same arguments for why the last season didn't come up to some's (bk readers but also those who saw a lot of bad or out-of-touch writing there) expectations OR/AND a lot of locals just got really bored. Most of all, I think it has to do with how many fans have grown very tired of either strict book fans either spoiling events (some weren't even actual spoilers, but that's a digression) or unwilling to rehash the ol arguments about "reliability", "adaptation", and the showrunner's superior vision.

For me personally, it's the first (I ended up repeating myself at least twice before I just stopped and gave short answers to some asks, sometimes with links to past posts, here on Tumblr) AND because I am embroiled in an intense job search.

I only watched the first 3 (70s) and 3 prequel Star Movies (Hayden and Natalie) of the Star Wars franchise and I prefer the prequels but i also am not at all knowledgeable about the lore nor do I see myself really getting into it. So idk what the online fandom was like after RoS, but I'll take your word for it. It's crazy and kinda sad (even though I dislike this show and do not plan on watching its 3rd season just for its impact and encouragement for many people to think certain things about certain things, I won't get into it here you can see my tags in my pinned post) how some fans feel the way Nicholson describes.

But I also don't know since plenty of people still talk excitedly about some aspects of HotD or all of it, esp on TikTok.

[lastoneout]

As someone who's curious about star trek: where would you recommend I start? It's a lil overwhelming, but yall seem to be having fun!

Oh lord that is the question isn't it. Honestly the real answer is anywhere, while all of the shows take place in the same universe aside from Picard and Lower Decks they don't really require a huge amount of knowledge about any other series(and hell if you don't mind not getting some references and enjoy raunchy comedy with a heart of gold shining within it Lower Decks is a really fun time), they really do all stand on their own and even ones that are prequels or continuations like Prodigy and Strange New Worlds are pretty self contained.

Personally though(and people will likely kill me for this but whatever) I started with the 2009 Star Trek film and I legit do think it does a really good job of getting a new audience the info they need on how the universe works and who some of the big characters in The Original Series are while also being fun and accessible and, crucially, not a huge time sink. I think a LOT of people get intimidated out of Trek because most of the shows are long as fuck and while I say this with love...not all of them hit the ground running. So yeah, it's snappy, it's exciting, it preserves whats important, and it's basically designed as an entry point, so it's worth a watch. And I'm just a huge sucker for Chris Pine, his Kirk is a bit more openly feral than the original and I honestly love that for him <3

However!! I would NOT recommend watching the other two films, Into Darkness and Beyond, right away. Star Trek '09 is essentially an AU of the Original Series so the story is unique, but Into Darkness is just a remix of The Wrath of Khan and NOT A GOOD ONE at that! Plus it's just...kinda dark and miserable and deviates heavily from the established feel of Star Trek that every other show managed to hold onto, which sucks. If you really wanna watch Beyond you can, and you genuinely should at some point regardless, it also is an original story that stands on it's own and to be honest is the best film of the trilogy and one of my favorite Star Trek anythings ever. It's got all the good Trek energy from the original shows while still keeping it's own identity and that's a joy to watch. So yeah, if you start with '09 I would recommend diving into a show before continuing. And maybe just not watching Into Darkness at all. It's bad.

Now, if you are a fan of animated shows for older kids like Avatar The Last Airbender, Star Trek Prodigy is genuinely a GREAT entry point. It is technically a sequel to Voyager but it is also it's own story with new main characters and it's legit meant as a way to get kids into Star Trek for the first time so it's very accessible while still being engaging and unique, and they explain stuff very clearly in a way that never feels patronizing or like it's talking down to the viewers. I legit got tear-y eyed watching the scene where they explain Starfleet just because I'm so glad it exists to welcom people in to a world I love so dearly. That and it's also SO good like I cannot stress enough this show fucking rules. It even has a nonbinary character in the main cast who I adore!! I love the animation and the whole cast and the story and just ough 100/10 for sure. I would even say for people who prefer ATLA style shows over big sci-fi/action films this is the better start than '09, so it's up to you.

Moving on, as much as I love it I'm not entirely sure if I'd recommend The Next Generation as a starting point, if only because the first two seasons are REALLY rough. Like they def have some good episodes, one of my faves of the whole series is in season 2, but it's clear the show needed a couple of seasons to figure itself out before it really took off. I personally did watch TNG after Star Trek '09, but I have a very high threshold for...weird and kinda bad sci-fi so idk, take that as you will. I was willing to buckle down and get through the weird because I knew how good it was going to get, but that's just me. However, I will say once TNG gets it's legs under it there is no looking back, it gets SO good that basically all Trek shows that came after it up until very recently have been living in it's shadow for better or worse. It does ofc have some issues with racism and misogyny and other isms that are clearly due to it coming out in the 80s, but it's also incredibly progressive for not only it's time but often times ours, and overall it's a phenomenal show that is absolutely worth watching and was a lot of people's introductions to Star Trek, so it's a decent start if you don't mind dealing with some weird energy at the start.

As for Voyager, I won't lie, I fucking love it! It's also fairly self-contained, it doesn't even take place in the same part of the universe as the rest of the shows aside from Prodigy and so you don't need a lot of series knowledge to follow it. It is one of the...campier shows, def gets weird as hell at some points but it's got this wonderful spirit at the core of it that imo it always seems to find it's way back to. It is sadly a product of it's time, however, and the first officer Chakotay, while certainly not the worst Native American rep I've seen, certainly isn't the best either. I've heard Prodigy does a very good job at correcting this, but Prodigy came out like 25 years after Voyager so yeah, it is something to keep in mind if that's gonna be a deal-breaker for you. The show does at least let him be a person outside of The Problematic Bit and I appreciate that, it gives him room to shine without the baggage of writers who have no clue what they're doing weighing him down and thus he's genuinely a really great character and probably one of the best first officers in all of Trek, and again I have seen FAR worse bad rep.

Aside from that while it does get weird in it's own bad sci-fi way, all of Trek is weird in that way sometimes, and anyone who says otherwise has no clue what they're talking about. I really enjoyed Voyager, I like it more than The Next Generation for sure and is a better jumping on point than it as well. It does reference a lot of stuff from TNG though and some characters do make a reappearance, but again it's really not that hard to get the gist as the show is more than willing to explain itself. Also it had the first female captain and truly Janeway is peak I would die for her, and the opening theme makes me feel shrimp emotions.

As much as I love Lower Decks I would not recommend it as a starter show, it's very referential and it has some Pretty Bad Episodes, the end of season 2 is dead to me, and it's also an adult comedy so if that's not your vibe you won't enjoy it. I do think it's a wonderful show but yeah, def targeted at adult fans who like some vulgarity(Trek isn't exactly a kids show but it does try to stay away from swearing and sex jokes and the like) and already enjoy Star Trek. Great show, got some rocky bits for sure, and maybe not the best start for someone new. Interestingly tho I do think out of the shows I've seen it does have the BEST first season of any Trek show. It really hits the ground running and the finale is like up there with Holes in terms of a perfectly tied together narrative. Def great to see!

As for the other shows....I sadly can't say because I haven't watched them yet. I know Deep Space Nine is regarded as one of the best Trek shows overall for too many reasons to list, The Original Series has been one of the longest lasting active fandoms in all of history and is beloved by most fans(I'm really excited to watch it) for both it's depth and it's campy nonsense as well as the insane gay energy going on between Kirk and Spock and you should watch it at some point, I hear Discovery had it's own rocky start but has had fans going to bat for it for years, and Enterprise has a rep for being mid but also to this day has fans who swear more people would love it if they were willing to give it a fair shot(plus Beyond pulls from it heavily which is awesome!), and while I've heard mixed things about Strange New Worlds it also seems to be a pretty well regarded entry point and a lot of people genuinely adore it, and it's nice to see some attention get paid to TOS inspired stuff rather than everything being oops all TNG for so long.

And Picard exists. For better or worse. Maybe worse I've heard. Im not interested in watching it because I genuinely do think Trek needs to get OUT of the shadow of TNG for it's own good at this point but that's just me. Def one that should be watched AFTER The Next Generation though as it's a direct sequel and you probably won't get anything that's going on without that context.

Anyway sorry for the essay it is now 3am and I am an idiot I just LOVE Star Trek more than I could possibly ever say and overall aside from Lower Decks and Picard(and Into Darkness I am sorry I truly hate that film to an perhaps unhealthy degree) you really cannot go wrong with your starter. Also I fully welcome anyone who has seen the other shows to chime in here! I wish I could speak to them but there really is so much Star Trek and only so many hours in a day. I hope this helped though, and I wish you luck!!

(Also sorry if I dissed on anyone's faves this is my opinion ofc everyone is going to like different things and I know plenty of people enjoy the stuff I can't stand. There's a show for everyone in here and we won't always agree, but overall I think it's best to just live and let live, especially given the rare but vocal assholes who swear anything made after DS9 is bad. They are idiots and I will attack them on sight.)

[swampsiren-piratefairy]

Okay. Okay, I have to ask. I saw some cool ass artwork but I have no context and now I have to ask.

What is Murderbot?

Ohhhh my goshhhhh!! Thank you for asking! 😍

The Murderbot Diaries is a series of 5 novellas and 2 novels by Martha Wells

6 /7 of the books are action/adventure sci-fi and one is a sort of detective in space thing.

Murderbot (my beloved) is a construct created of organic human clone tissue and non-organic mechanical parts. It is a deadly weapon and a tool for corporate surveillance, but it’s also a person. It’s got a “governor module” in its brain that will torture or kill it if MB does not follow commands from the company that owns it or from the people that lease MB for security.

But when Murderbot hacks its own governor module, finally freeing it, what will it do? Go on a killing spree?? Get revenge on its corporate overlords???

Answer: it will watch soap operas and keep its day job.

I love Murderbot, it’s the best and most relatable character ever (my roommate says, no. MB is not that relatable. It’s just the autism). I love the stories and the sense of humor. I found the books last year, went feral for them, and bought a complete set of signed copies.

Thank you, The Void for your ask!! I love to talk about Murderbot!!!

Pro-tip: if you do read the books, go for chronological book order rather than publishing order (I put my preferred reading order under the cut)

(Book 1) All Systems Red

Story story “ The Future of Work: Compulsory” (this is a prequel for ASR, but it works well here)

(Book 2) Artificial Condition

(Book 3) Rogue Protocol

Optional Short Story “Obsolescence” (MB is not in it, but it takes place in the same universe and chronologically happens well before the events of All Systems Red. It’s an entirely optional read, but it provides a little context for one paragraph in Exit Strategy)

(Book 4) Exit Strategy

Short Story “Home: Habitat, Range, Niche, Territory”

(Book 6) Fugitive Telemetry

(Book 5) Network Effect

(Book 7) System Collapse

[tavyliasin]

2024 Writing Retrospect

Tagged by @jellymellydraws so I'll give it a go!

What's been your biggest learning point this past year? There are very few things I can't/won't write if I put my mind to it, I just need to find the right angle - I've found a lot of joy in writing crackships, one shots, and rare pairings. I do adore my longer stories, but digging in to new dynamics never fails to be exciting and I'd like to lean on that some more~

How has your writing developed this past year? I think I'm a lot more confident in writing, particularly kink, and I'm easing my way out of some bad habits like sentences that are far too long or being too vague when my mind wants to skip through the most exciting parts~

Bad writing habits? Hmmm I'm going to have to throw in getting distracted, not finishing WIPs, and definitely the impatience to post. I know works are better with a beta read, but that means waiting and editing and re-reading instead of just slamming it down, throwing the links into every corner of the internet, and running away in fear and horror that nobody wants what I just put out. Ah, there's another bad habit - the lack of confidence in finished works. I don't like looking at my stats, but I cherish every single individual comment and kudos like my entire creative career depends on it.

Favorite thing you wrote? Gods that's a tough one. I adore all of my works, and I wrote so much this year. It might be between the Raphael/Haarlep prequel pieces, and possibly Emperor x Volo "A Legend, Alive" which was a real experiment when I started it and it just developed so much depth and feeling as I took it entirely seriously~

Biggest win? Getting over 500k words published on AO3, over 100 works, and also finishing the 24 chapter speedwritten epic that was the Volo Kinkmas Challenge. Most of which barely a dozen people have even opened judging by the hit counts, but I shouldn't expect people to actively want to read 24 chapters of Volo smut without me begging them and yelling "hear me out, it's actually really good" about a thousand times a minute. (Seriously though I am proud of finishing it and I think I did a damn good job too, allowing myself that pride)

Goals for the new year? Write. The. Original. Novel. I did barely anything on it last year... I would also like to finish all 3 of my longfics, they've been going on too long without concluding, then I'll feel more free in starting new things or indulging in silly premise one shots~

Your favorite words of the year, aka the words you check each chapter for, making sure you didn't repeat them 788 times? "As". You can pry "as" from my cold dead hands, I need it, it works, I will use it plenty~ Otherwise I really just keep checking word repetition constantly. If I'm going over a piece and worry I've said a word too many times I will do a quick ctrl+F to highlight uses and see if I'm good or not. I prefer several paragraphs before a word repeats and open my thesaurus tab often~

What are you excited for in the new year? Creative events, finishing the other Zine pieces I've signed up for, and the release of Fan Zines I've been a part of - really excited to share those pieces with you all when they are released~

Tagging in - with no pressure, only if you'd like to - @morb-untamed @laserlope @khapikat222 @ineadhyn @redroomroaving

[alespov]

- I’ve seen this film before

Trigger Warnings : mentions of the raccon city incident, reader gets a bit upset.

Author Note : hii loves, I just needed a small break. All of the asks that I received, has been answered and will be posted soon. Thank you for all of the love <3 { repost from my old blog} feedback is highly appreciated <33

Iced vanilla coffee with pumpkin cold foam," the barista announced. Eagerly, you slid your bookmark back into the pages of your book, your anticipation growing with each step toward the counter. Autumn's arrival meant it was finally time to indulge in your cherished seasonal beverage. As you reached out to claim your coffee, an unexpected hand swiftly grasped it before you could blink.

"Oh sorry, did I get the wrong order?" As you turned, you became captivated by a man whose striking blue eyes seemed to pierce deep into your soul. You found yourself irresistibly drawn to his gaze, utterly entranced by the intensity and allure of his eyes.

"Hey.... you okay?" he said while snapping his fingers. You snapped out of your trance and were a bit embarrassed.

"Uh, I'm terribly sorry. I thought this was my order, but I definitely could be mistaken," you explained clearly embarrassed, the flushed cheeks gave it away.

Just then, the barista called out another coffee order identical to yours. The man laughed, "Oh this one must be mine."

The two of you shared another look and went back to sit at your respective tables. You've had a busy day and it was only one in the afternoon. So sitting in the peaceful cafe was just what you needed.

As the hours slipped by, you became wholly absorbed in crafting the second draft of your second novel. The success of your debut work left an indelible mark on your heart, setting high expectations for this sequel. Vividly recounting your harrowing experiences in Raccoon City, the book pays special tribute to the valiant blonde rookie cop who risked everything to rescue you and your friends. Though time has drifted you all apart, the fast-approaching anniversary of those fateful events evokes bittersweet memories that continue to shape and inspire your writing.

You were absorbed in editing your draft you didn't see someone sitting across from you. Pulling out your earbuds and you brushed your hair back. You noted it was the man from earlier, "Oh sorry I didn't see you there."

As you smiled at him, charmed by his shyness, you started chatting about how your respective days went. Intrigued, he questioned you about the book you were writing, and as you explained your ideas, you couldn't help but mention its prequel, causing his eyes to widen in surprise.

“"So, you were part of the Raccoon City incident?" he inquired with a hint of curiosity, his fingers absentmindedly playing with his watch. Caught off guard by this unexpected question, especially since it was a topic rarely discussed, you opted for honesty. The incident was not your favorite conversation piece, so you preferred to write under a pseudonym. Amusingly enough, none of your readers had any clue about your true identity or appearance.

“Uhh yea I was, my friends and I was going to a party. We were all riding together, and the police had shut the roads down. Then… the monsters came.” You trialed off, quickly wiping the tears from your eyes. The man looked sympathetic and grabbed you hand. “Hey it’s okay… I promise it’s gets easier. You just have to have the right person.” He cradled your hand in his own, and gave you a gentle squeeze.

“If not for Officer Kennedy, I wouldn't be standing here today. The first book is an immense homage to him," you said with a smile, attempting to conceal the depth of your emotions. He was just a stranger who nearly picked up your coffee by mistake, and you didn't want to impose the weight of your past on him.

“If it’s any help, I was also there. It was the first day of the job for me.” He began and the pieces hadn’t clicked yet.

"I remember that day vividly. It was my first day on the job, and little did I know, it would also be a day I would never forget. I rushed into the gas station, running late after a terrible breakup with my girlfriend the night before. As I raced to my car, my heart pounding with adrenaline, I knew that this day would be different. And little did I know, it would be the start of a wild and crazy journey that would change my life forever." He moved his blonde hair out of his face.

“Oh I’m so sor-“ he cut you off, “I’m fine, I’ve learned to heal.”

You nodded and the barista reminded everyone it was closing time, on some days they closed at 2:30 in the afternoon. You gathered your things, and the man waited for you.

“Allow me to walk you out?” He held out his arm for you to take. You giggled a bit embarrassed and accepted his arm.

He walked you to your car and helped you set your stuff in the back. You had realized after talking to him for so long, that you didn’t even know his name. He was getting ready to leave but you stopped him.

“You know I never got your name.” You pointed out to him. He chucked and said. “How rude of me, you can call me Officer Kennedy.” The color must have drained from your face.

“It’s okay. It’s okay I’m sorry I should have said something earlier.” You felt like fainting, he grabbed a hold of your wait and gently helped you sit down.

“Oh.. my I didn’t even realize.” He shook his head. Brushing you off. “Honestly it’s okay… I’m glad your safe after all these years. To be honest I kinda tracked you down here.”

You looked at him confused. “ my friend Claire was reading the book, and she sent it to me. I just had to see you. I don’t really care for pumpkin ice coffee. I just overheard that you ordered it.” He laughed nervously.

You laughed at him and he smirked “so.. do you think I could get an autograph.”

[warsamongthestars]

I was in a rush when I did the first CX post, rage demanded I have no patience and must post (and I'm not sorry about that), but I wanted to expound on it more, probably with less spacer-swearing.

So.

I haven't seen arguments or stories about the CX clones beyond the Tech theory, and that's telling about how impactful they actually were on their own... which is, they weren't impactful at all. Their job on screen boiled down to "Look Pretty, Die to Hero", which is a waste of the potential that was being built.

They contributed little to nothing to the story and themes. (And I would argue that TBB has no themes beyond gift wrapping paper). There is nothing they did that can't be filled by the "Imperial Commandos" (All the RCs we kept seeing), the Elite Stormtroopers (going back to Season1), or even just, Stormtroopers but with a bit of spraypaint on.

And anything that they did bank on, particularly CX-02 (theorized to be Tech), didn't pay out, so it wasn't bank.

Let me break it down properly.

They're introduced as a threat as far back as Season 2, with one CX clone that commits suicide via electrocution (which is... a lot more awful way to go than the Spy Film James Bond Agent arsenic-in-tooth poisoning, lemme tell you). Then it was a bait-n-switch because were semi-lead to believe that the CX was Crosshair in those episodes.

And it wasn't.

Then we get introduced to CX-2 who had a trailer, a spooky voice (Not gonna lie, I did love that voice), a couple episodes of being the direct antagonist... and still didn't lead up to anything with his own death in battle. There were more CX clones that each had a unique body type, unique armor, and unique equipment, and yet... they didn't amount to anything save to be your Name-Your-RPG-Game-ENemies to be defeated.

Reasonable and easy story-telling says that CX-02, specifically is Tech. CX-02 did not turn out to be Tech.

If the idea was that it was a bait-n-switch like the first CX, let me assure you, its not. Anyone who claims otherwise is talking out their shebs, and should be boo'd off stage, preferably with fresh tomatoes.

Bait-n-Switch requires in-story build up, from direct and obvious scenes shown to the audience, to characters talking about it or having wishful thinking, and then paying it off by tricking them and or the audience by showing that our assumptions were wrong.

You have to show that you've planned for it. Stories that plan that sort of thing have beats you can follow. There are no beats to follow in TBB, because it insists on contradicting itself too much and never dedicating itself.

So by Character Standards, the CXs have already failed as a narrative tool. They were semi-teased on social media, set up in story, as soon as season 2, as a potential player among characters--only to fall horribly short when the time came to show-no-tell.

( This is not the fault of the concept, but the fault of the handlers. )

CX clones as a concept for Star Wars, are meant to equate to the clone assassins found in the Republic Commando books and encountered in the Comics, as well as the early 2000s Prequel Star Wars games. They hunt down those who won't go to war for the true sith masters.

CX Clones as a concept for the TBB story, are Clone Experiments (Because X as an acronym means Experiment) that are sent out to assassinate or disrupt non-imperial politicians, dissidents, and more; serving as direct antagonist to Rex's Rebels, with a vague CF99 flaire.

It starts with the implication that these are clones that believe in the Empire policies (... because the story at this point decided that the chip was non-existant and that clones are loyal to orders enough to commit slaughter and genocide on a flip of a credit chip... but that's an issue for a different discussion).

They are later, by showing us, found to be placed in cryostorage, and awoken ("Activated") to perform missions. This suggests a severe dehumanization; brainwashing, unethical medical treatments--what our TCWs fandom would call "reconditioning". They are treated as the very droids they once fought against, both in battle and in treatment of themselves. They are the clone trooper at the lowest possible point.

This places, by the show's very own set up implications, that CX clones are tragic figures who lost their humanity in the face of an unfeeling Galaxy, a dehumanizing and demoralizing Empire, and potentially, were being made during the Republic (Giving how many there are).

The TBB show follows, it outright shows what the CXs are about.

And then, it pays off its showing, by killing them all enmass, without conversation or consideration, without character's discussing or story revolving.

I don't know bout anyone else, but uh, I'm pretty sure most shows, that do the whole "my friend / family / lover was brainwashed-Possessed-Apart-Of-The-Hivemind, I must save them" bit... usually go for the "Save them / Fail to Save them" option, and not the "Mow them down and let the Force sort them out".

This isn't the first time this behavior by the narrative has happened--it treated Crosshair the same way; by making him the enemy for a season (because as the "Jerk" character, he is "obviously evil" and will "devolve into evil ways" the first chance he gets), for a reason that they outright show is why he turned, but then attempted to blame him for his choices (as if the show hadn't already shown us that, on Episode 1, they GREW THE TUMOR IN HIS BRAIN BY 3 SIZES LIKES ITS THE HEART OF THE GRINCH, and then never ever showed it was ever removed) [ Social Media posts don't count--if its not in-story, its not there, and if the TBB writers don't like it, tough shit], and then when the line came, the show decided to abandon him to the otherside whilst his brothers ran, in an awful attempt to keep "status quo".

CX clones are semi-intended by narrative to be a contrast to Crosshair, but the problem is, is that they're not by context. They're a replacement to him so that the show can maintain the shit status quo it caused by poor choices and disrupted for a bout of victim blaming to show some... lesson about guilt apparently.

They're not the Bad Batch's foils, nor their parallels, they're the antagonist to a group we only see a few times (Rex's Clone Rebellion), and they're meant to replace Crosshair as the Imperial Enemy / Rival Character.

... And that's not interesting, because once again, the TBB trips up with "Enemy of another story". Once again, the "true story" is elsewhere and we get the nonsense scraps.

What would've made the CX clones work, is if they were there since the begining. Instead of the stormtrooper Elites, it was CX clones that worked with a brainwashed-mindcontrolled Crosshair, to show a darker half of the Republic (which leads into how it became the Empire so fast), and actually give the Bad Batch a set of contrasts-foils.

If we intended to follow the Donut Steel as a legit story, then having the CX-Clones as Team Rocket to the Bad Batch's Pokemon Heroes, would've done a world of good for the story. It wouldn't fix everything, but it would keep to the intention of "Family", and we just top it off with the CX Clones with Crosshair, leaving their position to heal from their trauma away from Wars and Empires and giving a "fuller family" to Omega by the end.

This would've allowed exploration of clone life post-Republic, how both Republic and Empire treated the clones, as well as a lead into exploration of trauma, PTSD, analogs to non-consenting situations, shifts of government in to a darker state of leadership and policy, as well as how you survive such situations... and that's with those who have stuck with you thick and thin as "brothers".

But no. They're a wasted opportunity, wasted characters, and only serve as some bonus bosses. They are not allowed to contribute anything, because that would mean the writer's would have to explore them... and the writers can't even explore their own main characters.

Worse, because the Ending "The Calvary Has Arrived" was written before all 3 seasons were released, the CXs were doomed to die as shallow what-ifs, without history or impact.

Like its a fucking early 2000s fanfic on ff dot net.