#this is me bridging the gap between the two sides of this fandom

[agoddamnrayofsunshine]

Its fair to say that the DC fandom is a pretty divided space between those who care about canon and those who don’t and I usually veer closer to the canon-caring side but every now and then I venture over to see what those fanon madlads are up to and I have to confess to being, at the very least, deeply entertained every single time

[death---dealer]

Girl when I tell you I absolutely NEED part 3 to Customary or I might die!! Omggg that yearning shit had me covering the smile on my mouth and licking my feet. 🤭 It’s too good! It’s too cute! You might actually be a wizard. I’m bowing down to you, slow-burn queen 🙌

My fingers.... They are burning.... with dESIRE.

Title: Wounded Pride. Fandom: ( Kindgom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Mentions of violence, blood, injury and mating. ) Words: 6K ( Someone stop me jk don't. ) Pairing: Implied! Noa x Human!Reader. Summary: You were ignoring each other, that much was clear. How long was it going to last? Noa felt like he was bursting at the seams and you felt like you had lost all sense of reasoning. ** Does Contain Spoilers for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. **

READ THE SERIES HERE. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・ “Noa!” That was a frantic tone and lured the Chimp to raise his head in question. His ears moved to focus on where it was coming from. Off to his left, maybe 10 or so meters away. Not too far if he needed to run. He made a barking sound in response. Hearing his name was not enough.  His vision caught a few things. Leaves tangling against the ruins of a past structure. Echo in nature, through and through and hideously ugly. Nothing like what Apes built he beamed with decent pride at that. His body swung at the sound of his name vibrating along the walls encapsulating him like a barren playground. His set of feet and hands were pressed into the ground now. He was braced, ready to take off. Respond, Noa’s mind felt like it was melting, waiting for his fellow friends to communicate. He traced his gaze right along the trees that were bursting through the sturdy concrete, determined to grow in such ludacris circumstances. His chest rose and fell rapidly, faster than he had felt in quite some time, at least since his encounter with Proximus Caesar.  “Noa! You need to come quick!” The fur along his spine pricked at that, standing on edge. A sensation not often felt with him. It screamed ‘danger ahead!’ His nerves yelled at him, muscles feeling tense. The voice was very much Soona’s, tangling with Anaya’s as they began yelling over each other. Well, it couldn’t have been that serious if they were both taking time to yell, some tanglement of arguing with each other hitting Noa’s ears as he finally picked his pace up to a gallop. Coming to what could only be described as a skirting stop, Noa’s hands and feet dug into the earth below him to stop him from tumbling over, making quite crazed eye contact with Soona and Anaya as his mind caught up with his body. Both unharmed, he sighed from relief at that. Anaya was breathing heavily - Nervous? Noa questioned silently and looked at Soona again, shoulders fraught. He stared at her, expecting an explanation without having to ask for one. She was quick to oblige but didn't bother with words. Merely stepping aside, her entire self bumped into Anaya’s and they both shuffled to the side on all fours looking between Noa and what was behind them in the long grass that grew without care. Noa came forward, keeping his senses on guard in case there was danger with what Soona and Anaya had found. His friends were fast to follow right behind him. Noa never had it in him to advise that he was just as scared as they were at times like this. He swallowed it down and did what he needed. Soona and Anaya needed him to be brave and that was often his gift to them. Their gift back? Their unwavering friendship and support through the years. Green eyes scaled the grassy area in front of him to observe before he got too close. Some blades were painted red. Noa hesitated briefly. It had to be blood, Noa roughly vocalized to Soona and Anaya to stand back, stay back. They did just that, stopping their movements as Noa bridged the gap of two feet between himself and the patch. 

“Still… Alive?” Soona asked quietly. Noa glanced back at her, watching as she dipped her head precariously. Anaya was standing close to her, holding onto her arm out of fear. Noa looked back at the grass, or rather, what was in it. Between the long entanglements of weeds and vines he could make out the striking notions of blood splatter. Fresh, it still looked wet. Swallowing back something that was resting in his throat, Noa stood. If there was danger, he needed to appear as large as he could. One of the many tactics a Chimpanzee had when faced with the unknown. The extra height he got going from all fours to bi-pedal was all he needed to see clearly what was in that busted patch of grass. ‘Echo!’ He signed at Anaya and Soona. 

‘Has to still be alive!’ Anaya was fast to respond to his best friend, his hands finding it a bit difficult to move so quickly. The next set of words were jumbled but Noa understood. It had made a sound when Soona and Anaya probed it, which prompted them to call Noa in return. 

‘What…’ Soona’s signing was slow compared to Anaya’s. She was always more thoughtful and Noa savored that in this moment, trying so hard to keep himself from going straight into panic. ‘What… do.. We do?’

‘Put out of misery.’ Anaya wasn’t joking. 

Noa held his hand up, fingers twisted into a hard fist. Soona and Anaya both fell deathly quiet. He was not about to mercy kill. What was in front of him would die on its own once the cold of the night came around. There was evident damage to their legs, close to the ankles, blood pooling there and trickling down the smooth nature of the skin into the dirt below. He made a fast sign to his friends telling them. He heard them both gasp under their breath as Noa made a move closer, crouching to get more detail, his hands and feet tangling in on themselves with the spaced movement of Noa’s broad body. Cut around the temple, hit by rock maybe, or fell on face, burns around wrists, most likely from being bound. Noa was making quick notes of what he was seeing. He looked right. Nothing. He looked to the left and noticed blood droplets and traced their trajectory mindfully. It was coming from the direction of the cave that kept the Eagle Clan secluded from other Apes in the area. That was all Noa needed to know. The Echo in front of him must have been hunted, nearly to the brink of death.  ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

‘How?’ Anaya signed at Noa, huffing deeply at his friend who was pacing, very distraught. The sounds from the Ape in front of him told Noa to stop moving and to focus, pay attention to the conversation at hand but it was apparent with the shoulder movements of aggravation that that was not going to happen. Noa was an obsessive creature, and Anaya knew that. Once he was locked and entranced by something, by any force of nature, Noa would tear it open and figure it out to satisfy his need to fix, his need to deduce. That’s what made him so good at tinkering, at resolving. It must have been a secretive thing Noa wanted to talk about this time around, eager to get Anaya alone. Stalking and biding his time almost all day to get his friend pinned for a conversation. Without Soona, without his mother. ‘Echo got offended?’ The signing of those words were accompanied by a funny face, Anaya very obviously curious how Noa had managed that one. Neither had heard of an Echo being offended, though, from the Elders of the Clan, they had always made the assumption that they were quick to anger. Maybe the same thing, Anaya bargained with Noa, but Noa felt this was different than simple anger and told his friend that sternly.

Noa had put everything incredibly broad, unsure of how to approach his closest confidant with what had happened between himself and you. Too many details would give away Noa’s primal intent. He gave the gist of it with words a few minutes ago, Anaya intently listening to Noa’s voice waver. Up and down, the placement of his tone unsure and full of self-loathing. He continued, explaining in part the conversation about the human custom of kissing, only the important details, followed by a very cliff-noted version of the hunting endeavor. Anaya must have sensed the urgency, choosing to sign rather than put more effort into it by speaking. Anyway, he justified it further by thinking that signing was more private. Less likely for someone to overhear, or well…. Oversee. Tilting his head to the side, Anaya felt a sigh roll from him as Noa finally stopped pacing, now choosing to sit rather defensively on his hands and feet. ‘How?’ Anaya repeated. 

‘I do not know.’ Shamefully, Noa dropped his hands after admitting that, his jaw clenching tightly for a moment as he grinded his teeth together. They clattered, his canines distracting his train of thought for a split second as he moved his tongue over them. ‘Echo just…’ Signs were not coming to him. Thoughts were not coming to him. Throwing his hands up in vivid frustration, Noa gave up and let a growl fall from his lips, snarling his lips for a second as it became a bit louder before tapering into a hum of sorts. Anaya blinked, hunching forward on all fours and drifted his way very slowly to sit by Noa. 

‘Why… you bothered?’

‘I do not know.’ He repeated this time. 

Anaya nodded, only looking at his friend from the corner of his eye. ‘Maybe… Apology?’ That was definitely an avenue that Noa had considered, in fact it was the first thing that popped into his mind. Chimps were good at apologies. Never with words, often they reached their hands out, palms up and waited for the party getting the concession to accept. It had a great acceptance rate, but Noa doubted you’d want that. Just throw an apology your way and see how it sticks! What could go wrong? You’d never talk to him again…  He grunted out a denial to Anaya at that prospect and turned his shoulders away. Defensive in nature. 

‘You… need tell Anaya…’ He tilted his head in hesitation, knowing what he was about to suggest would be a dangerous path, even though they were friends. “What Noa actually said.” There was confidence in his verbalization, stressing and driving home to Noa that it was a necessity to spill his guts for Anaya to properly gauge the situation and help. “Asked.. about mating.” Noa was fast to speak, hoping that maybe his voice was too weak for Anaya to understand. He underestimated it though and it came out sounding like a sour grape. “Asked if pleasured.” Noa turned his face towards Anaya, giving him a certain look that told him all he needed to know. He got his needed information and now he needed to process. And… It surely brought to light a lot of things. 

A lot. 

Anaya sat back on his butt, displaying a rather surprised expression. Noa didn't bother looking at him, already able to see the emotions on his friend's face just in his mind. That’s what they got for years of being around each other. Each minute move either face or body was known and read right away. 

“Stupid.” He told Noa honestly which resulted in a chortle from the Eagle Clan’s leader. It was the sound of agreement. “Echo like privacy. Stupid to ask. Not like us! Keep many secrets away from Noa, from all Apes.” There was intense scrutiny in Anaya’s voice. There was a reason why the Elders told stories, wary ones, about the Echo’s. About how they were and how they disregarded things that weren’t important to them. Selfish! Anaya chuffed, wanting to pull Noa in physically and beat him into submitting, giving Anaya all the answers he needed to deduce what Noa was already enthralled in. Instead though, he urged, “Why ask?”

Noa dropped his shoulders at the mild scolding and dipped his chin towards his body. He knew what Anaya was saying was right and there was no logical excuse anymore why he asked what he did or why he felt somehow entitled to an answer from you. ‘Curious.’ He didn't have it in him to speak.

Anaya wasn’t seething perse, instead, he was statically quiet which was even worse to Noa. Anaya was a chatterbox, even if it was about nothing of consequence. This… Was out of the norm and it made Noa incredibly uncomfortable. He began shifting his weight from one side to another, swaying out of mere anticipation of being scolded again. And if Anaya got too into it, Noa could just choose to gallop away. He didn't have to take it! He was the leader. He was… He was the Eagle Clan. 

“Stupid.” Anaya muttered again, picking himself up and moving. He couldn’t be next to Noa as he processed. 

“Told me they only mate out of survival, hardly… the other reasons..” Anaya’s mouth popped open. Noa got further into the conversation than he led his friend to believe. Previously, the assumption was made that you didn't respond and merely began ignoring him out of offense. 

Anaya exploded. “Echo not stupid, Noa is. Should have left it to die in the woods when found. Then, Noa wouldn’t be here telling Anaya stupid things!”

Noa lurched at that. Not at Anaya, but unquestionably at the implications of his words. At least, that was what Noa was going to tell himself later when the guilt set in that he drew his aggression at his best friend. The animalistic movement was taken the wrong way, made evident as Anaya billowed as Noa approached him, drawing into himself to appear smaller, more weak, more favorable. Raising his hand up, Noa was chaste to brush his fingertips against Anaya’s open palm. Apology. Simple and clean. Anaya submitted to his friend and watched as he turned, leaving the Chimp still as dumbfounded as before. Though, with a bit more insight. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

You could smell dried blood but you couldn’t bring yourself to lift your heavy eyelids. Warmth was collapsing over you, wave after wave. Each one brought another one of your senses with it. There was a mild tingling in your right ear, prickling at your hearing as you tried to adjust it enough to figure out your surroundings. Last thing you remembered was stumbling… Hands pacing over a bricked wall in the dark, trying too hard to find a place where you didn't need to run for your life. Your hand pressing to your forehead, bloodied from a cut on the side near your temple, vision blurring in and out of focus. Your knees buckled from exhaustion, crashing onto grass that definitely appeared softer than it felt… It was hot for a second but then it was awfully cold, your body taking a plunge into an invisible ocean of sheer ice. Then, it all went black. Maybe, if you were lucky, you were dead. Whirling endlessly in limbo somewhere between the Earth and the Heavens, searching for the next place to go. Maybe you were asleep, dreaming up violent situations from your subconscious. After all, it did what it wanted to in your dreams; you had no control over that. Would you be aware if you were dreaming though? That idea spurred you to cross it off the list of possibilities. Hm… Or maybe you were dead, you repeated. Your eyes did not want to open. You were so warm… Another wave hit you all of a sudden and you became aware of the smothering sensation of animal fur against your back. Against your arms. Against your legs. Against your entire body. Voices without bodies were floating around you. They sounded human enough and that put you at some ease. You jumped the gun there. Thinking you had been caught by a bunch of ravenous Apes. Ha. Ha. Ha…

Jolting, you were abruptly conscious. 

Not conscious enough, you decided. Drawing a deep breath into your lungs to accommodate for the lack of air you got while passed out, you found your eyes peering into green ones directly above you. Not just regular green, you tilted your head and tried desperately to ignore the throb coming from your temple. Entrancing, grappling for dominance with flecks of outstanding gold against a canvas of darkened pupils. Oh yeah, you were dead. You were definitely looking into the eyes of God, you said sarcastically in your wounded trance and shut your eyes again. “Awake! Echo is awake!” You heard that clear as day and it did nothing to help the already soundless nature of the drumming in your head. It was followed up but a few soft hoots of acknowledgement which caused the hair on your arms to stick up in defense and your eyes to fly open without reserve. Ape. Ape. Ape. You counted them with wide eyes. Three. Maybe? Maybe more? You had a hard time telling as your eyes were adjusting back to some sort of normalcy after being drenched and flooded with blood. Wherever you were was not very bright save for a fire in the corner that drifted up what appeared to be wooden planks that were tilted inwards. No natural light came in and it beckoned your internal clock to assume that it was night time. You were in a structure of some type; that was easy to figure out regardless of lighting. With Apes. Not just Apes, you squinted and raised yourself on your forearms. Chimpanzees. Three sets of eyes, similarly colored to the ones you woke up peering into. You had no idea nor interest in knowing which one was observing you so closely. If you weren’t dead before, you may as well have been at that moment as you sprinted backwards, almost face first and staggered to your feet. Automatically, you were in a defensive position, trying to ignore the feeling of twisted pain in your ankles. Racing your hands everywhere, you tried to find something to grab. Something to defend yourself with. You needed to! There was nothing in the vicinity. You couldn’t even tell where the door was and your eyes were frantic to find some sort of escape. Shoulders rising and falling quickly, you turned and looked at the Apes again. Your heart was going to jump out of your chest. Your head was pounding and you felt like if you moved your feet anywhere, you were going to tumble. What did they want?

Your mind was flying at a faster speed than you were able to process any cognitive thought. Words were blaring in your ears without anyone yelling. Your group of fellow Humans were all hunted, their chanting still wild in your head. Apes were dangerous. Apes showed no compassion. They liked the kill, they liked the satisfaction. The deeply ingrained instinct to be afraid of them because you didn't understand them, the wild weaned fear of what they could do to you. What they were planning to do! Were they… Oh god, they were going to kill you and then skin you and then eat your insides--- you scrambled again, no regard for how you must have looked as you dropped to your knees, muttering under your breath as you flew around on all fours. You needed to find a way out. There had to be a way out. They were going to attack, they were moving!

Wait.

You paused, hunching on your hands and knees, feeble attempts made to catch your breath but you still found yourself panting like a wild animal. Mouth agape, you looked at the Apes in the room with you before letting your gaze fall down to their hands. Were they… Using sign language?Your back came into crushing contact with the wooden wall behind you, earning a tiny flinch from you as your right shoulder blade radiated. You must have been bruised there, you thought. Despite the grinding pain you were in, you tried to push further back as one of them, only slightly bigger in stature compared to the other two dropped to all fours, now eye level with you, and languidly moved towards you. First a hand, followed by a foot and then repeated until they were right in front of you. Your breath caught in your throat as they leaned in, deathly close to your face that you were able to smell them in your nostrils, mixing now with that previously noted taste of dried blood. Oh, they were going to rip your face off.

“Alive.” They said to you, taking a brash step back when you moved. No shit, you wanted to say but you couldn’t find your voice. Your eyes widened at the movement of them and the sound of their voice. Not aggressive or mean, but it was pensive and quiet. Observant, and you wondered if they were even talking to you or just verbally acknowledging to the other two Apes that you were, well… Alive. Whoever this Ape was… Was courageous enough to face you, to be near you but obviously held some reservations. There was absolutely no way they were just as afraid as you were. 

“Injured.” That was directed towards you, eye contact frantically being made when the smell of fresh blood became more abundantly noticed. Almost afraid to look down, you felt a small gush coming from your right calf. It slipped down the curve of your muscle, mixed with something… A paste of some sort that in itself, in your cloudy disposition, was rather fragrant if you focused on it. Something like a root, pulled and crushed from deep in the Earth. How did that… Get there? You looked at your injury, nothing more than a gash, deeper than it appeared though and it ached if you moved your foot in any awkward positions. “Wh…” Your voice came out ridiculously hoarse, hand reaching up to touch the outside of your throat. The Ape in front of you was watching it all. The inquest on your face, your fingers holding along your throat and focusing on your heart beat. How long have you been out? A day? Two? A week? Swallowing hard, you lubricated your vocal cords just enough to force out a question, “Wh-- What did you… do..t’me?” That was definitely slurred.

“Did nothing!” Another Ape finally spoke, their voice frantic and distraught.Not from nerves…. Right? You looked at them, then at the one adjacent, who was just a touch smaller than the other two, before your gaze fell on the one closest to you, wrought breathing causing your lungs to feel rather tight. Shifting, you tried to relax but found that it only brought discomfort. 

“Injured.” The one in front of you said again, this time with a bit more confidence. Whether it was true or faux, you had no idea but it was difficult to sort anything through your thought process at the moment. You were barely processing the fact that there was quite literally a hole in your calf let alone that an Ape was communicating with you so… Civilly. “Found in… ruins. Dying.” Your lips parted, suddenly becoming aware that you were thirsty. The severity of the words spoken hit you like a feathered ton of bricks. Softly at first, it was initially hazed by the idea that they were capable of saving you instead of killing you. Then, it sank in and it felt like your body was tied to a chair, someone banging on your chest over and over again to just drive the point home that all your preconceptions about these Apes might have been wrong. No! It couldn’t have been wrong! You lived your entire life afraid of them, being told from your childhood to be afraid and to always run away. It was only solidified when each of those Humans you were around were hunted, killed and their bodies dragged around in a triumphant show-boat by a group of Apes on the back of their horses. Squeezing your eyes shut at that visual, often the cause of nightmares for you, you shook your head vehemently. There was no way. 

“We…” They continued on, “saved.” There was a gesture towards the two Apes across the room. “Brought Echo back here… Spear head in leg,” Huh, that explained that, you bargained for some sort of reality. “Took out, stopped bleeding then…” They came to a slow stop and signed something over at the other two. You had no idea what they were saying now. Sign language was not your forte. Maybe, if you could push aside the vibration in your head, you’d be able to read them from body language but that was thrown out the window when you opened your eyes, tears forming at the edges and ultimately blurring your vision. 

“Echo then wake up.”

You snapped, “Wha… What the hell is an Echo?”One of the two behind lurched ever so slightly at the apparent aggression you put into your words, but the one crouched in front of you put a hand up to tell them to stop. 

It gestured at you. 

You rolled your eyes. That must have been their name for Humans. Each clan called them something different, you had figured that out over the years. Instead of having individual names, the human race was deduced down to a word such as ‘Echo’ or ‘Nova’, which you had heard in passing, speckled usually in more secluded clans and only talked about in detail when you were around the fire late at night with other humans. It was lore, it was ghost stories. It was reality now. “I--- Have a name…” You whispered. “(Name).” Hm… With a tilted head to the side, a response came. “Noa.” Finally giving you a bit more clarity. He pointed at the two Apes behind him accordingly, “That Soona,” She looked at you, terrified obviously, but seemingly confident in her friend's ability to talk to you. “Anaya.” Even more terrified, and not as obviously convinced in this Noa Ape to be as outrageously courageous as he was appearing.

“Are…” You quivered in on yourself and looked at him. A string of tears hit your cheeks, hurting at your temple even more than before and profusely lit the flame that caused the beating in your head to intensify rapidly. “Are you going to kill me?” Noa looked at you, draping you in some sort of melancholic state as you realized just how… human his eyes were. How they observed every morsel of your face, taking in the details and probably thinking just how hideous you were compared to Apes. How he’d scrutinize your scent, your well being, your entire self. But, he said nothing, gaze flickering between your eyes before he moved attention to your calf again. You followed suit. It looked worse than it felt, at least you had that. If he were going to kill you, wouldn’t he have already done it? There was a fleeing moment where he felt offended at your accusation, feeling the same coming from Soona and Anaya - primarily the latter. But, he had to remind himself, you were Echo. You did not know any other ways.

“Not all Apes are that way. We do not kill… Echo’s here.” You stiffened watching as he drew himself onto his hands and feet again from his default crouching stance. That was a complete and full sentence. You tried to not bark at him with confusion, not impressed by any means… Well… No! Not impressed. You knew they could talk. It was well---You knew… they could… Your eyes blurred and you felt your head fall to the side before you urged yourself into a more aware state. It lasted only moments before you lulled into an awkward dance with unconsciousness and invested fear. Coldness rocketed right through your leg at the application of more of the root smelling paste to your wound. It didn't sting perse, instead, it felt numbing. Were you so out of it that you didn't see Noa grabbing what appeared to be a clay jar of sorts? Fingers pushing into it and then smearing its contents on your body? You so desperately wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing, putting on you but you were shot with another wave of black. You passed out. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

Almost sickly aware of the pair of green eyes on you at all times, intricately staring at your movements down to the minute shift of your shoulders as you breathed, you did everything you could to ignore them. Your hands were busy; helping Soona untangle some twine that had gotten itself into a mess of very intricate knots. She had praised you for your help, explaining that ‘Echo hand… smaller than Ape..’ It was a simple and gentle compliment from her, you being grateful to be of some use to someone else in the Clan and not just Noa. With your hands working, your mind fell into a leisurely state as you tried so desperately to convince yourself that Noa wasn’t foolish enough to pull you away from a social situation with Soona. It would seem suspicious and ultimately, Soona would tell Anaya who would then in turn absolutely panic and tell Noa to back off, leave you be and that the only purpose you served here was to please Noa’s curiosity about the Teachings of Caesar. Thinking those things did nothing to help you feel calm. In fact, it was very much the opposite. Your mind did not stop at that though, enticing you to look up. You swept the entire village with your gaze. He had to be there somewhere, he rarely chose to drift off by himself without either of his friends, or even you on occasions but that was only when you served a purpose to him, you convinced yourself that at the moment the agreement was made that you would help Noa understand about human culture. You were still actively trying to convince yourself of that after the last two conversations that abhorrently played in your head in excruciating detail. The absolute devastation on his face when he realized that he had asked you the wrong thing and your petty response was the top of the list for your mental replays. It was your pettiness and inability to say anything positive in response to him that got you the most worked up despite your answer to him being that of pure truth. Humans didn't mate, in Noa’s words, for pleasure. They mated for survival. Setting your twine down now that it was a straight line, you looked over your shoulder once more before glancing down to pick up another knotted piece to work on. Well… What were you supposed to tell him? Looking at it now in a less offended state, you should have just told him that you didn't want to answer. There were a few times in the past that Noa attempted to push a question on you, soon coming to embrace acceptance that you weren’t willing to give him any response and he’d drop it. The two of you never fought about it, never went days upon days without talking or seeing each about them. Were you even fighting? Tilting your head, you shuffled on the ground and spread your legs out instead of sitting cross-legged like you had been for at least the last half hour. Then you began bargaining. He had asked you before if you had mated. If you had someone before you found your way to the Eagle Clan. You never answered him, even then. It was left alone for a long time, Noa not wanting to pry into obviously human privacy. So he was consciously aware of the status of the question he begged you to answer only a few days ago.  You fixated on the way he had signed that word. Pleasure. It was a slow signing, his two hands in front of his chest with a perpendicular circular motion. It was a flurry of intensity. The question. Your chaste answer. Noa falling silent next to you, no doubt self-reflecting at the idiocy of the question. And then… Oh… You had the absolute torture of being silent for the rest of the hunting trip. Noa ignored you, you could sense the coldness coming off of him in waves due to his inner thoughts taking over. You wanted nothing more than to ask him when he inquired about pleasure. How he even knew that it was a pleasurable experience for a human. Was it for Apes? Chimpanzees? You had no idea, choosing to linger in your ignorance and figure that it was not an element to their mating standards.

Huffing, you sat your twine back down and told Soona in a soft tone of voice as to not alarm her, “I need to go pee.” She let you go with silence, figuring your rather fast pace was due to really needing to relieve yourself.

A quick excuse to get you on your legs, pacing towards the right and through the entire embankment of the village to the very edge. Kicking a rock under your foot as you approached the small creek, the very sight of the first incident with Noa, you felt like doing nothing more than grabbing your hair and screaming to the high heavens. What was wrong with you!? Now you were the foolish one, asking questions that shouldn’t need to be asked, that didn't need an answer because what fruit would come from knowing if Apes mated at all for pleasure?

Coming around the small creek embankment, your fast feet came to an almost stumbling stop. Your mind didn't process as quickly as you halted harder than anticipated and almost felt yourself go face first into the shallow water in front of you from the sheer momentum you had. A set of broad shoulders, lined delicately with thinning fur in preparation for the summer, were facing you. Sun peeked across the west as it began its gentle descent into night, flushing the sky now with a light hue of pink and orange. Ah yes… That oh so familiar body in front of you, hand dipped in water in quite solace was none other than the Chimp you were ignored by for days. Well, not just ignored by. You did your fair share of skipping around the stone to not run into him.

Tightly wrapping your fingers into fists at your side, you contemplated going back. It appeared he hadn’t heard you, hadn’t sensed you coming or at the very least, you weren’t worth turning around or acknowledging. Your heart sank at that thought. You were just another tool he used to get his way into fixing a problem that wasn’t his to fix. He… Looked so small… You brought your bottom lip in and chewed it out of deliberation, eyes scaping up his back, broad by nature, but from his posture now, it was brought in on itself and he looked reminiscent of a little kid who had just gotten into big trouble. Maybe, you muttered inside of your own head and trailed your way towards him. You were still contemplating if you wanted to talk to him, but the very least you could do was to appear next to him and give the chance.

‘Know you are there.’ There went your element of surprise as Noa brought his hand back in and rested it against his chest in a coiled position. He wasn’t just crouching, he was holding himself.

“I---” You stumbled backwards, feet shifting to move your weight but your mind was telling you not to run. To confront. You didn't want to! You wanted to leave it alone, you didn't want to… To… Have to see his face. “I’m sorry, I didn't know you’d be up here, I just needed to---”

“Think.”

Swallowing softly, you planted yourself behind him, only a few feet and looked at the water that was so enviously caressing his hand. Looking down at your own palm, you felt it tingle with want… You wanted to be that water and freely float yourself against him in some bid to calm, ease… Love… “Yeah…” That was spit from your mouth so softly, almost afraid that Noa wouldn’t be able to hear. He didn't turn to face you so you figured that he did in fact hear and was either waiting for silence to fall over the two of you again or for you to say something else. He waited.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・ Tag List: @ohwaitimthewriter @saturnnie-03 @hera-annwn @filliandkili @hadesbabygurl @supergoat12 @callsignwindow @moonchild1433 @kaenalsha @whamsworld @yummyfant @unsteady-bitch @twinspineout

( Sorry if tumblr is a jerk and doesn't tag properly. It does that sometimes I've noticed. )

[i2rizz]

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?

Fandom: Blue Lock

Characters: Nagi x reader

Based on the song of Arctic monkeys🤭

Angst i guess?

------------‐---------------------------------------

The phone buzzed on your nightstand for the third time in a row. You stared at the screen, the light illuminating your dark room as Nagi’s name flashed across the display. A sigh escaped your lips. You didn’t even need to pick up to know where this was going.

You swiped to answer anyway.

“...Hey,” his voice came through, slightly slurred, dragging the word out like he had all the time in the world.

“Nagi,” you started, already weary. “What time is it?”

A faint chuckle. “Uh, I dunno. Late?”

“It's 2 a.m.,” you clarified, rubbing your temples.

“Yeah, so? You’re awake,” he said lazily, as if that was a perfectly valid excuse for waking you.

You heard the familiar noise of background chatter and the bass of some party music, muffled but ever-present. Nagi must’ve stepped out for some air—or, more likely, to make this call.

“What do you want?” you asked, trying to sound indifferent, though a twinge of irritation bled through.

“Just wanted to hear your voice.” His tone was nonchalant, but you knew better.

“Are you drunk?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a low laugh. “Does it matter?”

Yes. It mattered a lot.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened. The calls always came late at night, right when you were starting to feel okay about the distance that had grown between you two. Nagi was someone you once thought you understood completely—a quiet, laid-back guy who didn’t seem to need much from the world. But lately, he’d become a ghost of himself during the day and a restless spirit at night, always reaching out to you when he wasn’t sober enough to hold back.

“I’m not doing this again, Nagi,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Doing what?”

“This—whatever this is. You call me at ungodly hours, barely coherent, and expect me to just... what? Wait for you?”

He was silent for a beat, the sound of the distant party filling the gap.

“Dunno,” he said finally. “I just—everything’s loud here. You’re not.”

It wasn’t a compliment; it was an excuse.

“Do you even realize how unfair this is?” you continued, feeling a knot of frustration and sadness build in your chest. “You ignore me all day, but when you’re high, I’m suddenly worth your time?”

“I’m not ignoring you,” he mumbled, but the words were weak, lacking conviction.

“You could’ve fooled me,” you said, voice cracking slightly despite your efforts to stay calm.

There was another pause. You could hear him shifting, maybe leaning against a wall or the side of a car.

“...I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and for the first time, it sounded genuine.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Nagi, you can’t keep doing this. Calling me in the middle of the night doesn’t fix anything. It just hurts more.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

The vulnerability in his tone made your resolve falter. You hated how much you still cared, how much you wanted to believe there was something salvageable in whatever was left between you two.

“Why do you even call me?” you asked softly, more for yourself than for him.

“Because you’re the only one who gets me,” he said without hesitation. “Everyone else... it’s just noise.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like this, but tonight, it hit differently. Maybe because you wanted to believe it was true.

“Then why don’t you talk to me during the day? When you’re sober?”

“I don’t know how,” he admitted. “I suck at... everything, really.”

A bitter laugh escaped you. “You don’t suck at soccer.”

“Yeah, well. That’s the only thing I’m good at.”

The conversation drifted into silence, heavy with unspoken emotions. Part of you wanted to hang up, to finally put an end to this exhausting cycle. But another part of you—the part that still cared too much—couldn’t bring yourself to let go.

“Nagi,” you said finally, voice softer now. “I can’t keep being your escape. I need more than this. We both do.”

He didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, you thought he might’ve hung up. But then he spoke, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

The words hung in the air like a fragile promise, one that you weren’t sure he could keep.

“You already have,” you said, tears stinging your eyes as you ended the call.

The phone sat silent on your nightstand, no longer buzzing with calls or texts. You stared at it for a while, wondering if he’d try again. But deep down, you knew this was the end of the line—at least for now.

Nagi might’ve needed you, but you needed someone who could show up when it mattered most.

And tonight, you chose yourself.

------------‐---------------------------------------

It wasnt smth big yet i still feel bad☹️

[directdogman]

Hey dogman, idk if you answered this

Who, out of both DSAF and Dialtown, was your favourite to write and/or create?

It's very hard for me to pick favourites with my characters because I don't tend to give characters a lot of screen-time unless I find a character interesting or fun to write. You've caught me in a talkative mood, so warning, there's an onslaught of text coming!

DSaF: Dave was the most fun to write for, as I remember it. I mean, the guy is the walking personification of chaos and even when he's being constructive (eg, rigging robots to do insane stuff), it's usually in a destructive capacity. Dave will do LITERALLY ANYTHING but contribute to society in meaningful/valuable ways.

In terms of what character-writing I was most 'proud' of, I was also pretty happy with Dr Henry Miller, as a villain. Namely the research he embarked on, described in his logs in DSaF 3 (which the fandom evidently agreed with, as I got really strong feedback on those logs.)

One issue a lot of people (including myself) have with canon William Afton is that he's this kind of mad scientist character but his research doesn't really seem to be... idk, going anywhere? Other than using remnant (soul nectar?) to make kids possess robots, it's kind of a mystery how he got to this point he did from running a bad fast food restaurant. William gets fleshed out motivations in TSE and even then, it mainly revolves around his relationship with Henry Emily, iirc. It's actually pretty accurate to how real serial killers think, imo, but there's a pretty wide berth between this kind of serial killer and becoming a sci-fi fast-food mad scientist... So, I decided to try to bridge that gap.

DSaF Henry's logs actually mention where the idea for his research came from, namely the fact that he existed in a world with normal scientific rules just like ours and seemingly discovered something supernatural, and he approaches it like an amoral scientist would - trying to figure out how to figure out more about the fabric of reality using the newly discovered phenomenon of possession. The 'joy of creation' phrase people pulled from Golden Freddy's phone call in FNaF 1 is given context - Henry is trying to find out what's on the other side (and eventually, how existence itself formed.)

There's other aspects to his character that make him more interesting too, like the implication that his research is partially an excuse for him to act on an underlying sadism (with scenes implying that he inflicts damage on others than can't be justified as assisting with his research.) His background as a dissident/quack laughing-stock scientist (thanks to pushing his soul theory in a best-selling book, which is considered pseudoscience) BEFORE he embarked on his journey to become a fast food tycoon also makes it less farfetch'd that he'd be capable of y'know, harvesting human souls intentionally to continue his research?

I had more for the character on paper that people haven't seen but some of it wasn't revealed due to it feeling a bit too disturbing to publish. None of the contents would've been all that controversial, more just too tonally disturbing when written about in detail (like a omitted part from his backstory/lore post where he managed to pick up a hazy audio of his wife + son's crying from the radio of the car his wife/son drowned in and reacted with genuine elation upon realizing he'd discovered a new scientific phenomenon (as this was the first time Henry witnessed soul-possession.)) Yeah.

I don't feel much of a need to revisit Henry as a character because as a series villain, he was pretty thoroughly-written and he did his job effectively... And his fate was well earned! (He even got an epilogue short-story a few years back, further cementing his fate!)

Dialtown: From the characters/writing that the fandom has seen? Tough to say. I genuinely really like every DT character. Gingi and Mayor Mingus are two of my favourite characters to write for because they're both really insistent and react to adversity in a really comically indignant way. Mingus is more like Gingi than she cares to admit in very specific ways, which is the core hypocrisy of her character - she's one of the most abnormal things IN Dialtown, and spends the game on a quest opposing abnormality that she, herself, can't stand.

Many absolute rulers have debilitating physical and/or mental cruxes and despite that, usually have the final say on what is/isn't okay, often guided by arbitrary preferences. It's funny to remember all of the ancient kings and emperors who dictated how others should act, talk and even think, when very many of them themselves were anything except a good reflection of their own subjects! It's an irony I quite enjoy and leads to a fun character to write for!

My favourite DT writing is probably some of my Callum Crown speech drafts. I have a definite bias here since Crown's character is based on many figures I've encountered in my own reading (and his story relates to topics I enjoy reading about.) A lot of that is real nerd shit that wouldn't be interesting to 99.9% of DT fans (like a long conversation where Crown + Milt discuss a campaign speech Milt wrote for Crown and they bicker about if the wording/arguments used are truly honest.) Again, not super relevant to Dialtown-proper, but it explains a lot about why the world of DT ended up the way it did.

Realistically, the story of Dialtown itself is basically a weird little epilogue to a story that ended decades upon decades ago, centered around a bunch of small-town nobodies circling around the carcass of the last surviving main character of the old story.

I'm also very happy with Gingi's character partially because I know more about Gingi's past/future than you guys do. Gingi has such rotten memory that Gingi's backstory before DT's story begins is basically a complete mystery. Thanks to Gingi never getting close enough to any humans before laying its eggs, there's nobody in Gingi's life that can fill in the gaps. Companionship means so much to Gingi because prior to meeting The Gang, Gingi is aware of a massive and unknown block of time that's a complete mystery precisely because Gingi had nobody in its life. To Gingi, this time was basically akin to being non-sentient or dead, and Gingi would never go back.

While I was making DSaF, I drafted a ton of other stories on paper. I considered making most of them, but decided not to for various reasons, despite getting some solid feedback from collaborators. Bits of almost all of those project ideas made it into DT, with Gingi having traits from several other main characters I prototyped years and years ago. This includes where Gingi came from and what exactly Gingi is. I don't want to mislead people into thinking Gingi is more important than it is, like Gingi is the key to unlocking DT lore (I promise there's a LOT of aimless scuttling/devouring in Gingi's past and relatively little else!) BUT: Of everything from those old scrapped projects, Gingi is what I decided deserved to survive the most. And that has to count for something.

One day I'd love to make sequels to DT and perhaps explore some of the stuff I've described above, like why the hell the world of DT is the way it is or maybe where the hell Gingi spawned from. Thanks

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Got tagged by @chaotic-neutral-knitter to share my favorite fics I've written and I feel a little bad not putting any of my 3 OFMD fics on the list. But in my defense it was very hard to choose between my 116 slutty slutty children, and while I like my OFMD fics a lot (especially Learning and Remembering) I decided to limit myself to five fics across all the fandoms I have written for over the past nine (!!) years, and there are some that stand above the rest.

Maybe I'll Show You the Way (Dune, Paul/Chani). Maybe my recency bias is showing but I really think this is one of the best things I've written. Paul and Chani's whole "falling in love while fighting side by side in an anti-colonial armed resistance movement" romance in Dune Part Two felt like it was designed in a lab to appeal to me specifically, and I just wanted more of it! What started with a simple "5 times they fucked in between fighting the Harkonnens" premise has become a novella-length character study about war, politics, solidarity and resistance to oppression in all its forms, interlaced with a very sweet, youthful first-love romance that always has a bittersweet edge because we the audience know these characters are living in a tragedy. This fic is one chapter from completion and I've been stalling because I really wanna stick the landing on this one, but it will get finished!

a narrow door, swiftly closing (Dune, Paul/Duncan) Different ship, different era (post-Dune Part One) and a very different vibe. The fun of this ship is the multiple power imbalances running in different directions (younger/older, student/teacher, lord/vassal, end product of a 90-generation eugenics program with a mind that can bridge time and space/Just Some Guy). It's also got that chewy age gap thing where the older character has watched the younger character grow from a child to an adult and has to wrestle with the realization that they find them sexually attractive now. Peak forbidden romance and mutual pining in this one and not just one but two of my favorite finally-crossing-the-line kisses I have ever written.

Three Times Is a Habit (Trust, Primo/The Other Paul) Ah yes, my "which doomed curly-haired teenage twink heir to a powerful dynasty named Paul are we talking about?" era. For a hot second (most of 2021) I was really into this hidden gem FX limited series Trust, based (with many creative liberties taken) on the real kidnapping of John Paul Getty III in Italy in the 1970s. The fun of this fandom is that every ship is an absolute garbage fire of bad decisions, and writing the trainwreck emotional logic that leads to a traumatized teenager repeatedly hooking up with his kidnapper was an adventure. There's also a fun meta layer at play in the relationship between our reality, the fictionalized "true" version of the kidnapping that happens in the show, the lies the characters tell about the fictionalized version of the kidnapping in the show, and the version of the characters I'm writing, some of whom are based on real people and some of whom are made up. (Is this RPF? You decide.) This fic will make zero sense if you haven't watched the show. But you should! It's a wild ride with a great cast (Donald Sutherland presente!)

Salvage & Scrap (Mad Max: Fury Road, Gen) Two minor characters who have a combined total of maybe five minutes of screen time produced what was until recently my longest fic on AO3. This fic was based on a fantastic prompt: what if Ace (the older war boy who seems to be Furiosa's second in command on the War Rig) and Valkyrie (Furiosa's Green Place gal pal) both survived their violent vehicular encounters and met each other? The idea was immediately appealing to me because they both care about Furiosa but have known such different versions of her, and the way their worldviews would clash seemed like great story fodder. I still love the imagery of them meeting at the place where their worlds have literally collided--the wreck of the War Rig in the Rock Riders' canyon. Also I recently reread this and I forgot how devastating the tiny glimpse we get of Furiosa is in this fic.

Fightplay (Mad Max: Fury Road, Max/Furiosa) You know this list wouldn't be complete without a smutty Maxiosa fic. It was really hard to pick one piece of the 127k smut novel I wrote about them in non-chronological order over the course of about 3 years (2015-2018). But Fightplay was definitely the start of writing uhhh a certain kind of dynamic for them. The prose is very spare and exacting in a way that I still find hot 9 years later.

Tagging @thebyrchentwigges, @thetardigrape, @nandamai, @bethagain, @demolitionwoman-blog and anyone else who wants to do this!

[zapreportsblog]

I'd love to see Edward and Ben(separate) with their mate waking up from a coma. After an accident she fell into a coma for 6 months. Please and thank you!

❝waking up❞

✭ pairing : Edward Cullen x reader x Benjamin

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) fell into a coma for 6 months after a tragic accident here’s her first moments waking up

✭ twilight masterlist

Edward Cullen :

The soft beep of monitors and the sterile scent of the hospital room formed an unfamiliar backdrop for Edward Cullen as he stood by the bed, his golden eyes focused intently on your still form. Six months had passed since the devastating car crash that had left you in a coma, and his heart had been stuck in a perpetual state of apprehension and longing.

"Edward, I think she's starting to wake up," Alice's voice broke the heavy silence. She stood on the other side of the bed, her eyes fixed on you.

His breath hitched as he watched your eyelids flutter, a sign that your consciousness was beginning to reemerge from the depths of sleep. He reached out and gently took your hand in his, his cool touch a stark contrast to the warmth he hoped you would soon regain.

"(Y/N),” he whispered, his voice a mixture of anticipation and relief. "Can you hear me?"

The seconds seemed to stretch into eternity before your eyelashes quivered again, and this time, your eyes opened slightly, revealing tired but conscious orbs that locked onto his. The corners of his lips twitched with the hint of a smile, his eyes shining with emotion as he met your gaze.

"Edward?" your voice was weak, barely more than a whisper, but to him, it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

"I'm here, love," he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a tender caress. "You're safe now."

A myriad of emotions played across your face as your memory began to piece together the events leading up to this moment. The accident, the darkness, and now, the sensation of his touch grounding you in the present.

"Edward," you repeated, your voice stronger this time. "What… what happened?"

"You were in a car crash," he explained softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "You've been in a coma for six months."

Six months. It was a disorienting concept, and you struggled to process the passage of time that had occurred while you were trapped in that void between consciousness and oblivion.

"I've missed you," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion.

"I've missed you too, more than you can imagine," he confessed, his gaze intense and full of unspoken words.

The room seemed to fade away as you locked eyes with him, your heart echoing the unbreakable bond that connected you. The weight of the past six months and the uncertainty of the future melted away in the presence of his unwavering love.

"I love you," you whispered, the words carrying the weight of all the emotions you had held onto during your coma.

His smile was radiant, a beacon of hope and happiness that illuminated the room. "I love you too, (Y/N). Always."

As he leaned in, his lips met yours in a gentle kiss, a connection that bridged the gap between the time you had lost and the life that awaited you both. With every heartbeat, you knew that your journey was far from over, but together, you were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, hand in hand.

And so, in the soft glow of the hospital room, two souls found their way back to each other, their love stronger than ever before, and their hearts beating as one.

Benjamin :

The forest echoed with the haunting calls of distant creatures as the twilight sky painted the landscape with hues of orange and purple. Benjamin, with his bronze skin glistening faintly in the fading light, stood amidst the trees, his thoughts consumed by the events of the past months.

Six months ago, a confrontation with a group of Normans—vampires who had renounced the traditional ways of their kind—had left you gravely injured. Benjamin had fought valiantly to protect you, his mate, but even his elemental abilities had struggled against the overwhelming force of the Normans.

His golden eyes never left the path that led back to the Cullens' residence. It was a path he had walked countless times, carrying the weight of hope and fear in equal measure. The Cullen family had rallied around you, never giving up on the belief that you would awaken from the coma that had ensnared you.

Suddenly, the air around him seemed to shift, and he turned to see Carlisle approaching through the undergrowth. The patriarch of the Cullen family wore an expression that was a mixture of caution and optimism.

"Benjamin," Carlisle's voice was gentle, a soothing balm to the turmoil that churned within him. "There have been changes."

His heart raced at the implications of Carlisle's words. Changes could mean any number of things—a decline in your condition, a new development, or perhaps…

"Tell me," he requested, his voice betraying his urgency.

Carlisle's eyes held a mix of sympathy and reassurance. "She's waking up."

Time seemed to stop as Benjamin processed those words. A surge of emotion swelled within him, a blend of elation and trepidation. His heart pounded with a rhythm that matched the thunderous pace of his thoughts. After six long, agonizing months, he could scarcely believe that the moment he had prayed for was finally here.

He followed Carlisle back to the Cullens' home, his anticipation growing with every step. The atmosphere in the house was a curious mixture of tension and excitement, the other family members gathered in the living room, their expressions a reflection of the emotions that swirled within the room.

As he entered the room, his gaze was drawn to you—still and serene on the bed. A tangle of emotions threatened to overwhelm him as he approached, his heart aching with a longing he had scarcely allowed himself to acknowledge.

The steady beeping of monitors filled the room, a reassuring cadence that underscored the delicate balance between life and the void. He took your hand in his, his touch gentle yet firm, as if trying to bridge the gap between your unconsciousness and his unwavering presence.

"(Y/N)”, he whispered, his voice laden with emotion. "It's me, Benjamin."

And then, as if in response to his words, your eyelids fluttered. The tension in the room heightened as those present held their collective breaths. Your eyes slowly opened, and for a fleeting moment, you seemed disoriented, as if trying to make sense of your surroundings.

"Benjamin?" your voice was a fragile whisper, your gaze finding his amidst the sea of faces.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening with both gratitude and relief. "I'm here, (Y/N).”

A gentle smile curved your lips, a spark of recognition igniting within your eyes. "I remember."

The room seemed to exhale as a wave of emotion swept through those gathered. The past six months had tested their faith, but in this moment, hope and love prevailed.

As your eyes met Benjamin's, the unspoken connection between you radiated with a warmth that defied the cold uncertainty of the supernatural world. The darkness that had threatened to claim you both was slowly giving way to the light of your resurgence—a testament to the power of love, determination, and the bonds that transcended even the most dire circumstances.

Edward Cullen and Benjamin :

The tranquil town of Forks held its breath as a soft rain fell, casting a gentle rhythm on the world below. Amidst the towering trees and the emerald undergrowth, the Cullen residence stood as a haven for the supernatural family that called it home. Inside, a hushed tension filled the air as two powerful vampires—one with bronze hair and the other with golden eyes—stood in a room that had been a sanctuary of hope for the past six months.

Benjamin, his gaze fixed on the still form before him, couldn't help but let his thoughts drift back to that fateful day when the accident had occurred. A shooting incident during a hunting trip, a stray bullet finding its mark, and the life he had built with his two soulmates had been shattered in an instant.

Edward, his presence a calming force beside Benjamin, shared the burden of worry that had weighed them down for half a year. He understood the depth of the bond they shared with you, a connection that defied explanation, and the agony of waiting for the moment when you would awaken.

The sound of approaching footsteps brought their attention to Carlisle, whose presence was a beacon of knowledge and compassion in the face of uncertainty.

"Edward, Benjamin," Carlisle's voice was steady, though it carried the weight of the news he bore. "There have been changes."

Benjamin's heart raced as Carlisle's words hung in the air, the implications clear. Edward's gaze locked onto Carlisle's, a mixture of hope and apprehension reflected in his eyes.

"Tell us," Edward requested, his voice even.

Carlisle's eyes held a depth of understanding that only came from centuries of experience. "She's beginning to wake up."

A surge of emotions swept through both vampires—emotion they had learned to conceal behind their immortal facades. For six months, their lives had been in a state of limbo, the bond they shared with you a constant reminder of the life they were fighting to preserve.

They followed Carlisle back into the house, the tension in the air palpable. The other members of the Cullen family had gathered in the living room, their expressions a mirror of the emotions that echoed within the room.

As they entered the room, all eyes turned to the bed where you lay, still and vulnerable. The steady beeping of the monitors was a reassuring backdrop to the myriad of thoughts and feelings that swirled through the room.

Benjamin approached the bed, his steps careful as he took your hand in his. Edward stood beside him, his gaze never wavering from your face. The bond they shared, rare and powerful, connected them to you on a level that transcended even their own understanding.

"(Y/N),” Benjamin whispered, his voice a mix of emotions that ranged from longing to relief. "It's us. Benjamin and Edward."

The room held its collective breath as your eyelids fluttered. For a moment, there was hesitation in your gaze, a fleeting sense of disorientation as you emerged from the abyss of unconsciousness.

"Benjamin… Edward," your voice was a fragile whisper, your eyes searching their faces for confirmation.

Tears glistened in Benjamin's eyes as he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening with a blend of gratitude and hope. "Yes, love. We're here."

Edward's expression softened, a warmth igniting within his eyes as he met your gaze. "We've been waiting for you."

A soft smile graced your lips, a spark of recognition lighting up your eyes. "I remember."

In that moment, as the rain continued to fall outside and the room seemed to hold its breath, the unbreakable bond between the three of you resonated with a quiet strength. The trials of the past six months had tested your connection, but here you were—awakened, aware, and surrounded by the unwavering love of the two vampires who had been by your side through it all.

The journey ahead was uncertain, but with Benjamin and Edward at your side, the echoes of awakened hearts promised a future filled with unyielding support, fierce determination, and a love that transcended time and circumstance.

[grace-aline]

Why I think Bob Newby had to die (part 2)

Make way for Jopper!

Listen. I’m as into shipping ST characters as much as the next Byler. Edits, fanart, fanfiction. Can’t get enough of that shit. Shipping is such a good, positive lens to watch the show through, and my GOD does it bring out some incredible analysis and literary criticism in the fandom.

I feel like I should preface this post by saying that, although I’m very fond of Bob, I’m not anti-Jopper by any stretch of the imagination. Hats off to those who are, but unfortunately I think that fighting Jopper is a bit like fighting the tide going out; like it or not, it’s probably going to happen. Canon Jopper definitely has its issues, don't get me wrong, but it’s exactly that; canon. It’s the most logical, inevitable endgame outcome at this stage, and I don’t think that’s likely to change.

However. I do think that Jim Hopper’s presence in the show was enough to write Bob’s death warrant.

Because from the minute Bob steps onto screen, bridging the gap from extra to character the longer the camera remains trained on his cheerful, innocent face, the same kind of inevitably follows him. Not the inevitability of his death, per say, but certainly a sense that somewhere in writing headquarters, an egg timer has been flipped on Bob and Joyce’s relationship, and that their time together is now counting down. In Beyond Stranger Things, the Duffers talk at length about Bob as being Joyce's "dorky boyfriend" who ultimately “...was always- he was always going to eat it.”

Joyce and Hopper, on the other hand, are one of those duos who are written with a implied degree of romantic certainty from the very beginning of the show. The eye contact, the bickering, the way she calls him ‘Hop’. We as viewers are given the ability to speculate as to their history from their first scene together; when Joyce arrives at the police station to report Will missing. From episode one, season one, they’re looking at each other like this:

It's not necessarily overt, but I don't think it's too much of a stretch to say that there is implied history between the pair. When you watch this scene, you also just. Get the general sense that Hopper is going out of his way to help Joyce? I know, I know, Hopper is initially very dismissive of Joyce’s concerns. But the way Joyce is able to talk her way into meeting with the Chief of Police, the way that Hopper himself organises searches and takes time out of his day to meet with and give Joyce personal updates… I guess you could argue that, being Police Chief in a small town, Hopper doesn’t have anything better to be doing with his time. But it’s not like he's only doing the bare minimum for her and Will, and we don’t see him answering early morning callouts or searching through the night for Barbara and Cindy Holland, for example. To me, it definitely reads as Joyce getting special treatment from Hopper.

It's not just us viewers speculating, though. Throughout the show, multiple side characters assume or otherwise divine the fact that Joyce and Hopper have unfinished business together. After defending Joyce to his officers and storming off, Callaghan remarks to Powell that “Her and the Chief have screwed before, right?”, Doctor Owens assumes that Hopper is Will’s “Pop”, and Murray gives the pair a fair earful when he finds out that they’re not dating: “...why don't you two cut the horseshit and get to the part where you admit your sexual feelings for one another?... And now, rather than admit these feelings, you're dancing around one another with this mind-numbing, frankly boorish mating ritual." Even Alexei, who has like half an hour of screen time total and has only known Joyce and Hopper for a couple of days, is shocked by the fact that “They have not had sex?”

I guess what I’m trying to say here is that any viewer or character with even an ounce of media literacy can tell that the Duffers establish Joyce and Hopper’s slow burn romance from very early on in the show. Despite their personal obliviousness (or perhaps more likely, their unwillingness to acknowledge the elephant in the room), there are a few key scenes in which even Joyce and Hopper themselves acknowledge the tension between them.

Bringing us back to season 2, though, what I’m most interested in are their interactions in 02x01: MADMAX. (I think it’s important to look at the series of moments between Joyce and Hopper here as being accumulatively damning to Bob, rather than individual scenes which could mean nothing on their own.) Keep in mind also that this is the first time we’re seeing Hopper and Joyce interact this season; the last we saw them together, they were on a high-stakes mission to bring Will back from the dead. First, Owens mistakes Jim for Will’s father, a mistake he continually makes throughout the series.(I'm thinking about the way that he later addresses/defers to Hopper’s wishes for Will, rather than Bob, and the way that he pulls Hopper, rather than Bob, aside to explain that Will is infected by a parasitic host.) As they depart the lab, Hopper and Joyce have an interaction which is slightly tense and defensive, respectively. After a pause, Hopper asks, “How’s, uh, Bob the Brain?”, not meeting Joyce’s eye, his tone faux-casual. Joyce replies, perhaps a little too quickly, saying, "Don't call him that... He’s good! We’re good.” Her tone has no real bite to it, though. Not long after this chronologically, but in the next episode (2x02: Trick or Treat, Freak) Joyce and Hopper share a cigarette back at her house. After discussing Joyce’s concern about Will’s worsening condition, they move on to (dangerous) reminiscences:

“Brings me back to old times.” "What?" "Well. Sharing my cigarettes between-" "Fifth and sixth period.” "Yeah, under the steps. Mr. Cooper caught us that time, remember? He was like ‘hey, assholes...’” “-we ran, we just ran.”

They laugh together, and then pause, holding one another’s eye contact as the music takes on a slightly melancholy tone. And I know, I know, eye contact isn’t concrete evidence. But just look at the way that they’re looking at each other:

As viewers, I think the Duffers want us to read into the subtext of this interaction; that is to say, what isn’t being said rather than what is. The Duffers want us to, in hindsight, rewatch the scene and see Hopper’s jealous curiousity, Joyce’s playful banter and obvious connection with Hopper despite her ongoing relationship with Bob.

So, Joyce and Hopper’s connection to one another is carefully and clearly established from the beginning. Let’s look at the suitors vying for Joyce's attention, then.

Hopper is a man of action, a man of impulsive decision and a blustery kind of confidence. Being ex-military and generally just fairly quick off the mark, he has a talent for coming out on top of whatever challenge is thrown his way. On top of this, we as an audience are expected, even encouraged to prefer him as a potential suitor because we spend more time with him, and because his character arc is more satisfying. There’s more meat, more complexity to a character who starts out carefully written to be somewhat unlovable in season one. You have to work to like him, work to see his perspective and appreciate how his past, intentionally fed to us in touching, accumulative flashbacks, informs his current approach to relationships. When season 2 opens, we see soft spots, fleetingly, in the way he takes El in, feeding her and clothing her and keeping her alive. We see a soft spot in the way he is implied to have gone with Joyce to every single one of Will’s appointments and in telling her to “…call me first” if she’s worried about Will. In other words, Hopper’s usefulness in dangerous, high pressure situations, when combined with his slow character growth, gives him this inherently endearing quality to audiences. If you didn’t start an outright Hopper fan, maybe you didn't necessarily want to like him, but you knew that characters needed and relied on him; and slowly, slowly, he grew on you too. Maybe not, I don't know. But that's my interpretation.

By contrast, and intentionally I think, Bob fails where Hopper succeeds. He isn’t as smooth or as quick-witted as Hopper. For example, he is frequently shown making verbal blunders, such as being too forward with Joyce by telling her he wants to move out of Hawkins with her, or giving Will poor advice regarding his episodes. On a more mundane level, a lot of his lines are framed in such a way as to make him come across as a little bit socially tone-deaf, unaware of the potential cause for embarrassment in phrases like “sneaky little buggers”, “the Bob-mobile”, or who could forget, *vampiric accent* “I hope it doesn’t suck!” And sure, Bob’s manner of speech is endearing in its own way, but what I’m trying to convey is that, unlike Hopper, it comes with a catch; we as viewers can’t help but cringe a little at him, even as we smile. The central characters are no different, either. Below are actual, real-time reactions to Bob:

Also unlike Hopper, Bob is less situationally and physically adept. He’s got his brains, but he doesn’t know how to use a gun, he doesn’t stand up to Owens and the other Doctors when they're mistreating Will and he ultimately fails to get out of the Lab, a character flaw which costs him his life.

From an even closer reading, just look at the way Hopper and Bob grate against one another in the Lab, one of their first and also one of their last scenes in the same room. To the absolute credit of scripting and acting choices in the scene, Hopper is fiercely calm and focused on the logistics of their escape, while Bob appears out of his depth from the way he gets uncharacteristically snarky with Jim, the way that his breathing is louder and more erratic than the other characters', and even Bob's comedically awkward stance as he tries to help Hopper to raid one of the dead guards:

I think there’s also something to be said about their obvious height difference. Sean Astin, who plays Bob, stands at around 5”6 inches, meaning that David Harbour, who plays Hopper, towers over Bob at approximately 6”2 inches. Now obviously height differences don’t actually, materially matter, but I think the way that Hopper physically dominates and intimidates Bob in his greater height and stronger build is meant to be another, subtler indicator that Bob is in over his head, quite literally.

And then, once he’s alone, Bob’s panic escalates, visibly sweating profusely as he starts to make regular, fatal mistakes. He leaves the gun behind in the basement, he knocks over a broom, alerting a Demodog to his hiding place. And of course, he stops running too soon in the reception hall, ultimately leading to his demise. Helpfully, the Duffers make sure you don’t miss any of these slip-ups with the use of an ominous zoom and a carefully timed stinger on the abandoned gun, and the way the broom falls in a dramatic, almost comic slow motion.

It would have been much quicker and more efficient for them to just hold up a big sign that says, “Bob is weak compared to Hopper guys! He’s not cut out for Joyce’s lifestyle!”

And listen. I’m not saying that I think Bob deserved to die for being unable to match Hopper’s cool-headedness or his combat skills. But I do think that the Duffers exaggerated Bob’s gentle goofiness at times, so that when standing next to Hopper, fans know that ultimately Hopper will replace him.

Interestingly, David Harbour confirms my theory in the Beyond Stranger Things documentary, which covered the filming of Season One and Two: “Does Hopper think that Bob and Joyce are a good match? I would say absolutely not. I mean look, I get the impulse that she’s following in terms of like… she was clearly in a very destructive relationship with Lonnie, and she’s clearly very protective of Will. And so she’s sort of chosen this guy that’s going to be… very nice to her, very nice to Will, and be a kind of good, dorky father figure.” He then goes into how he thinks that ultimately, Joyce and Hopper are “…two really lonely, lost people that really need each other.” “The short answer,” he goes on to summarise, “is I do feel like the sex will be a lot better with Hopper than it is with Bob.”

Hard to know what to say after that one, so there you have it. Another reason why Bob Newby had to die.

[kinnporsche]

here’s yet another kinn & porsche rec list! just like with the first two, this list is ordered according to length (from longest to shortest), and each is written by a different author! also, all currently incomplete fics have been marked with (wip). listen, when i tell you kp fics are literally piggybacking me through this year, i mean that shit. there are an insane amount of talented people in this fandom, we’re honestly so blessed. anyway, please be sure to read the tags, and show the authors some love! [part 3/?]

— echoes in my dreams by nuwildcat – explicit / 92k words

It’s been 10 years since the first Kaiju attack, humanity built the Jaeger program to fight them, and Kinn Annakin Theerapanyakun is one of the top Jaeger Pilots in the world. There’s just one problem—none of his co-pilots have lasted past a year with him. Enter Porsche Pachara Kittisawat. Somehow, this disaster of a bartender with no Drift experience shakes Kinn’s understanding of the Drift and changes humanity’s fate at the same time. Well, as long as Kinn doesn’t kill him first.

— instinct by thewayside – explicit / 90.5k words (wip)

Not everyone has an instinct, an animal self that lives inside a person, born from their souls and forged to live in their flesh. Hundreds of years ago it was common to have bears, rabbits, fish, and lions, a menagerie of animals—but now, as time and dilution of bloodlines has increased, the most common thing to have is nothing at all.

— two shots by martynax – explicit / 81.8k words

“So I’m supposed to end a mafia dispute?”

“Something like that,” he mutters, wondering if he’s making a mistake, revealing it to Porsche so soon. Nothing is set in stone, after all. But he has a gut feeling that the man appreciates honesty and simplicity much more than intrigue and schemes.

“Then why don’t you kill him yourself?” Porsche questions, but that is going to stay a secret from him for now. He won’t give Porsche ammunition to get away from the deal. If he says he’s trying to keep it a secret from his father, he could find a way to get in contact with him and fuck things up for Kinn. It may be far-fetched but Kinn’s not taking any chances.

“How about you answer one of my questions?” He asks, cocking his head slightly to the side.

“Oh? You show me yours, I show you mine?” Porsche teases him. The raised corner of his mouth and the twinkling in his eyes makes it clear he’s making allusions to their dicks.

“I know mine is bigger, there’s no need to compare. You would just embarrass yourself,” Kinn tells him with a smirk of his own, helpless against the pull Porsche seems to have on him. Porsche laughs, clearly surprised at the comment.

— ‘til the fever broke by vesna (mrsronweasley) – explicit / 63.6k words

In a world where having a sex slave is a status symbol, Kinn’s father gifts him with a slave.

— stumbling to the edge ‘series by firerisingoverthehills – mature / 51.4k words

Kinn doesn’t kiss. He just doesn’t. Not since Tawan and how that whole shitshow ended. Porsche must read something on his face, because he actually bridges the gap between them. He sets a hand on the seat next to Kinn’s thigh and leans into his space. His knee is up on the seat, the other leg hanging off it. He leans in close enough that Kinn can feel his steady breaths on his face.

Kinn is going to tell him. He’s going to lay down the rules. Tell him that he doesn’t kiss. That he doesn’t like to be challenged. He’s going to—

And then Porsche kisses him and Kinn... Kinn doesn’t stop him.

(Or: An AU where they meet in a slightly different way, Kinn still falls head over heels though.)

— xxx curious straight boy ‘series  by mirrorofprinces – explicit / 34.2k words

“Porsche is extremely close to signing. In fact, he has a final meeting with the execs on Monday morning. The only condition is that he wants to request his first partner, and it’s you.”

Kinn takes a long drink of his whiskey, sets the glass down, and runs his tongue over his teeth. “So you had to meet with me, urgently, to tell me that a beautiful boy wants me to fuck him, thinking I’d say no.” He drums his fingers on the bartop. “Which means there’s a catch.”

— the house don’t fall (when the bones are good) by bytherirveriwept – explicit / 11.3k words

The reality of Kinn is at times a grasping, hungry thing even when he is standing still.

(Or: Porsche and Kinn are the Theerapanyakun agency’s best team. They live in each other’s pockets and share their deepest secrets. But when Porsche takes on the role of bait in their latest mission, it throws their entire relationship into a spiral.)

— gone was any trace of you by kurtstiel – explicit / 11.1k words

Kinn is looking at Porsche like he’s seen a ghost. Porsche blinks and the haunted expression is gone, Kinn smoothing it over with something neutral, but there’s still something fragile at the edges of it, like a crystal figurine balanced on a ledge. Kinn’s body relaxes in a way that’s purposefully casual, tucking his outstretched foot back onto the bed.

“You were in the bathroom,” Kinn says. He phrases it like an answer rather than a question.

(Or: Porsche left Kinn in their bed with nothing but a note. In the aftermath of the shootout, Kinn can't stop thinking about it.)

— quis custodiet ipsos custode by concernedlily – explicit / 8.1k words

Porsche props his chin on Kinn’s chest, on his favourite spot in the valley between his pecs, and peers up at him. “Tell me? I’ve never seen you have a nightmare like that.”

He toys with the edge of the bandage wrapped awkwardly around Porsche’s shoulder. It’s a knife wound, scored shallow but long down from his collarbone towards Porsche’s nipple, which is certainly in Kinn’s top ten parts of Porsche’s body and probably top five, and not to be endangered under any circumstances. Porsche had tried to treat it himself and Kinn had dragged him to the medical wing and supervised the stitches and the bandaging himself, mentally cursing out the minor family’s men for a crowd of incompetents the whole time. “Deng. He was… the first bodyguard who died for me.”

— cliff jump ‘series by airgiodslv – explicit / 7.3k words

“You know the rules, then?” Kinn asks.

Porsche looks amused, like he can tell how badly Kinn wants to wreck his composure. “No kissing, no marks on you, bubble bath first,” Porsche recites easily. “I read your notes file.”

Kinn is almost certain Porsche isn’t supposed to tell him the escort agency keeps a notes file.

(Or: An AU in which Kinn requests an escort for the night, and gets Porsche.)

— love on the water, love underwater by butterflylungs – explicit / 7.3k words

The golden light of the sun washes over him, rays catching in his dark hair, caressing his skin. Porsche would do unspeakable things for this man, and the fact that he’s been neglecting him in favor of work bothers him more than he can put into words. He misses Kinn with every breath, with every heartbeat, and he wishes he didn’t have to spend so much time away from him.

(Or: A day off, a surprise trip, and the dreams they’ve had to let go.)

— forward is the doing by daltoneering – explicit / 5.5k words

He exhales an acrid lungful, and opens his eyes. Right here, in the electric scarlet of the evening, they had made their choice. Design had shaped them for too long; now, the broken glass on the floor shimmering like a thousand stars to wish upon, Porsche lives by decision.

The door into the bar spills a shadow out into the light of the yard, and Porsche reaches for Kinn with simple instinct: their hands meet in the gloaming, and Kinn folds himself around Porsche’s side like a coat, or a blanket.

(Or: In the red-blue neon of the lights behind Hum Bar, Kinn and Porsche chose each other—and what better way to explore the meaning of that than through devastatingly tender-horny sex?)

— i’m the only one at the end of the day by kinnpornsche (bloodyinkwells) – explicit / 5k words

“I know this is a revolutionary idea, but maybe you could trust your boyfriend to not be cheating on you every time you see him with another man.”

“What is it from?”

“Instead you just assume I’m a slut,” Porsche barks, and then his voice softens. “When I’ve only ever been loyal to you, and you know it.”

(Or: Porsche flirts with someone for a job. Kinn doesn’t take it well. Porsche talks back.)

— no one does it better by midnightfreeway – explicit / 2.8k words

Kinn takes comfort in being in control. Control is power; control is freedom. It allows him to act on his own initiative. It brings him pleasure in a world where danger lurks around every corner. Kinn has no idea who he would be without it. An empty shell of a man, a puppet with someone else pulling the strings.

But it gets tiring, always having to fight for your own survival.

— cravin’ by yeetlegay – explicit / 1.8k words

It’s only when Kinn is two knuckles deep in Porsche’s ass, his teeth buried in the meat of his thigh, that it occurs to Porsche he probably isn’t that straight.

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Writemas Day 15: The Bridge

<- Previous | Masterpost | Next ->

Prompts: "Trust me. Trust me. Trust. Me. That's all I ask of you." | A bridge | The prickle of branches against skin

Fandom: Original Work

Words: 1000

Tag List: (message me to be added or removed) @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion @scaewolf

@the-ellia-west @agirlandherquill

CW: swearing, anger, injury, vision

*****

"Thea...." Altair warned, reaching for her arm.

Thea scooted back with a huff, sending glass shards skittering across the floor, and rose, stepping between him, Kore, and the locked trunk. "I," she snapped at the trunk, "have had quite enough of your damned paranoia, Caelum."

While she was speaking, Thea grasped the strands with a firm hand. With a tug from her left hand, she forced them to wrap around the lock, slipping between the minuscule gap between the lid and the body. With the right, she wove a slightly more complex thread, one that appeared to her eyes like a box covering the trunk completely.

Thea clenched her jaw and flicked her left wrist. She didn't see those strands respond to her touch, but the reaction of the barrier she had formed was answer enough. The strands lit up all at once, like an explosion from a firework, and they strained against her grip, desperate for her to let go and allow the energy to go somewhere.

She didn't slacken her grip, and the threads remained glowing for one second.

Two.

Before the third tick of a clock, the light suddenly died, the only evidence of its existence a white smudge in Thea's vision. She quickly blinked the smudge away, waiting another moment before untwisting the threads.

She'd half expected to find nothing left when the box vanished. But Caelum was too clever for that. The trunk remained, its lock broken in two pieces, the floor around it scorched and charred.

"Why..." Altair muttered from behind her, "didn't you just do that in the first place?"

Thea folded her arms. "Because I didn't think it would work."

"You didn't... ugh...."

Wood scraped against glass, and Thea turned to find him trying to pull himself up by the bookcase. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get to my feet."

"After you just got struck by lighting, thrown across the room, and showered in broken glass?" Thea folded her arms and glared at him. "Or did you somehow forget all of that? Need I remind you that the healing threads are incomplete? You still have to heal on your own."

He sighed, lowering himself back into a sitting position. "Yeah, yeah."

"'Incomplete'?" Kore questioned, not moving from the doorway.

"The healing threads are notoriously difficult to twist, even for a master," Altair said quietly, "the Slain rarely use them, being dead and all, so they never bothered to find better threads than the ones they already found: cell regeneration. But it only lasts as long as the thread."

"I see...." Kore sounded skeptical, or perhaps confused, but she didn't pry further.

"I'll be fine for now," Altair reassured Thea. He pointed to the trunk. "What I really want to do is find out what he took such pains to hide."

She exhaled slowly and nodded, turning back to the trunk and kneeling before it. The clasps on either side of the lock were undamaged, so she carefully undid them one at a time.

Click.

Click.

And everything plunged into darkness.

Thea opened her mouth to gasp, to scream, but her mouth didn't move. No sound came out. Her thoughts whirled, faster and faster, trying to justify this new phenomenon. Another trap? What sort of trap was darkness and paralysis? What about---?

Branches brushed against the bare skin of her arm, prickly, like a fir. She realized she was moving. Her feet were walking of their own accord. And her right hand was outstretched, caught in someone else's. She still couldn't see. But soon enough, the darkness lightened, and she took in the vibrant red hues of the firs.

She hadn't seen something like this since... since....

Since Volantis.

This was another memory.

Thea's gaze suddenly sharpened, and she recognized the man who led her through the trees, along a worn path under a dark, starless sky.

Caelum.

But when? Obviously before they left. Thea frowned, trying to place the memory, when the faint sound of rushing water reached her ears.

Oh.

When the bridge came in sight, Caelum looked back at her with the most excited, gleeful expression she'd ever seen on him. Such an expression of joy should have been out of place for her, but right now... it looked right on him.

They stopped in the middle of the simple stone bridge, a river of silver flowing endlessly beneath them. "Do you like it?" Caelum asked earnestly.

Thea let go of his hand to spin in a full circle, awe-struck. "I... wow. How did you find this?"

"On accident," he said casually, that same joy still on his face.

"It's beautiful, Caelum," she whispered, taking his hand, "and I'm glad you shared this with me. But...."

"The Slain?"

"Yes."

His smile faded, and it saddened her to see it go. They didn't have time to indulge in frivolous things. But how she wished she did. "Before you ask any questions," he began, staring out towards the silver river's source, "I have given Altair the exact same amount of information as I give you now. Yes?"

She frowned, but nodded.

He set his jaw. "I have a plan. And for it to work... I need you to trust me."

"Caelum...."

Without warning he turned back to her, looking her in the eye. "Trust me. Trust me. Trust. Me. That's all I ask of you."

"That does not comfort me as much as you seem to think it does. What aren't you telling me?"

Caelum hesitated. "Look, how many of the outcomes we've had together in Volantis have succeeded based on trust?"

Thea sighed, thinking. "A lot," she finally admitted.

"I have a plan Thea. And I'm sorry... so, so sorry... that I can't tell you. All the information I gave you is all the information I can give."

"Altair and I would stop you if we knew, wouldn't we?"

His face hardened into an expression of impassable neutrality. She studied him for a long moment, waiting for the facade to crack. Finally, she relented.

"All right, Caelum. As long as it gets us out of her. As alive as we went in."

"Funny," he stated, face still neutral, "Altair said the exact same thing."

Before Thea could respond, the world plunged into darkness once more.

[friends-to-lovers-tournament]

Friends to Lovers Tournament: Round 2, Side A, Match 4

propaganda under the cut!

Fuyupoly:

Submission 1:

they're from the winter troupe of the mankai company, and unlike the other troupes they're all adults. that said, they all have varying degrees of trauma and emotional stuntedness. it takes them some time to fully open up to each other bc they're all very cautious of each other's boundaries and don't want to cross any lines which initially led to some issues in the group's formation. over time they've learned to bridge the gap while still being mindful of hard boundaries. at one point they have a discussion about what exactly their relationship is (gay) cuz they were talking about how the other troupes have clearly defined dynamics (spring=family, summer=besties, autumn=rivals & teammates) but they don't,, and homare deadass says they're "people bound by a common destiny" which in and of itself sounds very Gay (like why are you as a man bound to other men by a common destiny), but it goes even further because homare starts spouting WEDDING VOWS: "In sickness and in health, for better or for worse, we shall share our laughter and our tears as those with an intertwined fate... How beautiful we are!" THIS IS A DIRECT QUOTE FROM THE GAME AND THE MC EVEN REMARKS "i can already hear wedding bells in the distance..." 

gradually they become closer, in individual sub-units based on who's paired up as co-leads for a play, and as a troupe overall. also two of its members are childhood friends who had a messy 'divorce' in their young adulthood and it took the game breaking its genre to introduce a timeloop for them to finally make up if that means anything to you. one of their troupe songs "precious to us ~bokura no kisetsu" has some pretty beautiful and fruity lines: "The many kindnesses born in me here / Never fail to breathe life into my chest / Even all the pain and bitterness / Have now become dear to me (Ah…Stay with me)", "No matter how many times our season passes / Let us keep living together / Holding our hands, without ever letting go / Let us open up the curtain of tomorrow", "There is no need for words, because once our gazes meet / Joy sparks a light in your eyes", "Our journey, may it be a brilliant one / As our breaths overlap as one"

a lot of their plays has a LOT of homoerotic tension between the two leads too. their first play has tsumugi and tasuku play angels, and it's heavily implied that tasuku's character has an unrequited crush on tsumugi's character. their third play has azuma play a vampire and tasuku play Just Some Guy and it's generally agreed in the fandom to be one of the gayest, if not THE gayest, play A3 has ever written. obviously the vampire thing is very fruity, but there's also how the vampire was longing to bite the human but was holding himself back, and when the vampire left the human in the end, the human was absolutely HEARTBROKEN over it and was swearing they would reunite one day. the stage play of this takes it even further by having the vampire embrace the human from behind and BITE his neck. the fourth play is a watered-down adaptation of Phantom of the Opera where they genderbend Christine into Chris among other things and change the relationship between Chris and the Phantom to one of friendship.... ostensibly so, because there's still a lot of homoerotic undertones in their interactions. i could go on but this should be enough of a sampling taste 

Submission 2:

the writers rlly said "let's take 2 normal guys who are childhood friends and have been into theatre since their school days and have them go through a pre-canon messy divorce, an eccentric poet with a potentially controversial haircut, an amnesiac sleepyhead who can only be awoken with marshmallows but is also somehow extremely athletic despite doing nothing but sleeping and eating marshmallows all day, a man who is so beautiful and mysterious he breaks gender, and a supposed android from a fictional south asian country, and throw them into a blender, oh and for good measure let's throw in some theatre and angst and gay and angst and gay" and the end result was marriage. i mean it took them a lot of awkward fumbling around and conflicts to get there but they got there and thats what matters. ok *technically* in-text they're all rlly good friends and kinda found family BUT they are found family via marriage papers i do not make the rules chief

Submission 3:

The reason why they are so friends-to-lovers to me is because their relationship is founded on quiet and unconditional acceptance of each other—regardless of how flawed they may be or how heavy their burdens and trauma may be. When the troupe first formed (sans Guy who was in another country at the time), they didn’t have any major clashing personalities at the very beginning and generally they were mindful of each other’s boundaries, unlike the other troupes that came before them. However, it’s BECAUSE they were too mindful of said boundaries that it was difficult for them to break down their walls and bond as a team—and there were a LOT of walls to break down, as all of them had varying degrees of emotional baggage and trauma.

In fact, it’s only three plays in that they finally truly start opening up to each other, with Azuma getting the ball rolling by opening up about the deep loneliness that haunted him ever since his childhood. It’s during this conversation that they also discuss what their relationship as a troupe is, because the other troupes have defined their relationship as a team (Spring is family, Summer is best friends, Autumn is rivals & teammates), and Homare goes on to declare that they’re “people bound by a common destiny” and goes on to spew wedding vows: "In sickness and in health, for better or for worse, we shall share our laughter and our tears as those with an intertwined fate... How beautiful we are!" I mean… it can’t get any more obvious than this, really. They are married.

But anyway, Tsumugi says he wants their relationship to be one where while they respect each other’s need for space, they’ll also be there for each other and share their pains and burdens—or in his words: “supporting each other when our burdens become too heavy to bear on our own”—which I think is really sweet because it carries this idea of quiet, unconditional acceptance; they don’t push each other to share more than they’re comfortable with sharing, but with whatever they ARE comfortable with sharing everyone carries the load and pain because pain is easier to bear when you’re not bearing it alone <3 

A later part of the story focuses on Hisoka, a mysterious amnesiac, being terrified of regaining his memories and facing some “sin” from his past that has led to another character, Chikage, trying to take revenge on him. When he confesses this to the rest of the Winter troupe, Homare asks, “How heavy is this sin you bear?” and Azuma suggests, “Perhaps it’s just heavy enough for the five of us to carry together.” (at this point Guy hasn’t joined yet). The stage play adapts this scene into a song called Key to Memory. The key (pun unintended) part is 1:27 where there’s a back-and-forth between Hisoka and the other Winter troupe members (sans Tasuku because he wasn’t in that particular play)

Hisoka: “I’m scared…”

Tsumugi, Homare, Azuma: “It’s okay.”

Hisoka: “My unforgivable sin…”

Tsumugi, Homare, Azuma: “Let’s carry it together.”

Hisoka: “I might not be me anymore.”

Tsumugi, Homare, Azuma: “It’s all right. We understand and we accept you, so let’s go together.”

And it ends with Hisoka singing: “I was afraid to open the door of my locked memories. But if everyone is here, I believe I can do it.”  In both the game and stage play, Hisoka fully regains his memories and reconciles with Chikage (long story). He tells Fuyupoly he can’t go into detail about his past with Chikage because it’s dangerous but he’ll tell them when the time is right, and they accept this saying that no matter what his past is, they know and love him as their Hisoka which obviously is a very sweet thing for friends to say, but it’s also very Marriage-coded to me.

Later, Guy is introduced as an android from Zahra (a fictional South Asian country) and joins the Winter troupe as a temporary member—because he’s stuck in Japan for the foreseeable future—until they find a permanent member to replace him. The other Winter members have a conversation among themselves and agree that regardless of whether he’s really an android or a human they’ll accept Guy for who he is and help him improve his acting, which again harkens back to the idea of ‘unconditional acceptance’. Eventually it’s revealed that Guy is in fact a human who has forgotten his memories of the past and his emotions. He recovers his memories all at once which shocks his system and causes him to pass out. When he wakes up in his room, he finds the rest of the Winter Troupe asleep around the room—which I believe is symbolic of their whole theme of “quiet acceptance”: they don’t want to push Guy to share beyond what he’s comfortable with, but they’re always there to listen to him and share his load if that’s what he wants. He opens up about the memories he recovered, and they don’t treat him with pity like he’s a lost child, but still extend gentle empathy and understanding. They also emphasise that it genuinely doesn’t matter to them whether he’s human or android because he’s Guy first and foremost. It’s at this point that Guy truly lets himself become part of the Winter troupe/Fuyupoly and not just as a temporary stand-in member, because he’s found a place where he’s found himself again and people who will accept who this “himself” is, whether that be an android devoid of emotions or a human brimming with vivid beautiful emotions.[Mod note: There’s a LOT more but we’re afraid of crashing the post. I (Deli) summarised it the best I can since I’m familiar with A3, but if you want to read the full thing you can check it out on this google doc)

Sourin:

okay so i have a picture to crack explain the sourin supremacy

but i also have legitimate reasons lmao

1. sousuke and rin both GET what it's like to want something so bad but not be able to achieve it. they know each other's pain so well, and they know just how much effort the other person puts into swimming. AND THAT MUTUAL UNDERSTANDING STRENGTHENS THEIR BOND SO MUCH!!! this is also the reason why they are each others' comfort person because the other just GETS it, no need for any explanations

2. they're passionate as fuck about the same thing (swimming) and they help each other train harder and swim better,,, like get you a couple with the same obsessions as you!!!

3. THEY SWAM A RELAY TOGETHER and that means a lot in swimming because IT'S BASICALLY SMTH A TEAM DOES WHEN THEY HAVE ABSOLUTE TRUST IN EACH OTHER AND THEY DEPEND ON EACH OTHER AND THEY LOVE EACH OTHER AND IT'S BASICALLY THE SWIMMING ANIME EQUIVALENT OF I LOVE YOU

4. when sousuke told rin about the shoulder injury he was literally so devastated because his love couldn't follow his passions anymore,, AND WHEN SOUSUKE RECOVERED FROM THE SURGERY RIN LEGIT CRIED HAPPY TEARS!!! and sousuke was always there for rin w/e he had a slump bc he compared himself too much to haru and others,,, like gods they care so much for each other

5. sousuke is the earth and rin is the fire,,, AND RIN LIGHTS A FIRE IN SOUSUKE WHILE SOUSUKE GROUNDS RIN LIKE PLEASE THE MOTIFS ARE LITERALLY RIGHT THERE EVEN IN THEIR COLOUR SCHEMES (teal + maroon) 

in short: sourin supremacy because these two bois are so perfect for each other"

[caralara]

has something happened, Cara? did i miss something? sofia stunt as in sofia the scandinavian girl everybody forgot about? is she back? what has asia to do with that stunt? totally agree that louis' career would only benefit if there were some women in his team but i'm really confused about what exactly you're talking about now. have a lovely weekend!

Hi!

Oh my comment was set off by the AFHF announcement, and the subsequent detective rabbithole everyone went down trying to figure out where it will be this year, and loads of people saying Mexico bc of the cacti in the picture plus that Mexican promoter account tweeting and deleting AFHF recently. I got riled up about how badly they failed last year for AFHF, how we could tell right from when they announced it (quite late) to then being there and seeing how they only sold 2/3 of tickets and not even everyone showed up. They had to cut back massively on staff (one of the reasons why entry was handled so badly and why they didn’t have enough staff to hand out the wristbands), and how they absolutely need to have a (financial) success with this year‘s AFHF in order to not have the whole festival get jeopardised and maybe cancelled. And that led to me talking about the root problem of the team being just men, and then listing examples of their recent fuck ups that very likely wouldn’t have happened that way if they had a woman on their team they‘d listen to once in a while, like for example the Sofia stunt. I guarantee you that no man on that team even thought about the fact that in 2023, with a majorly queer, feminist female fanbase that huge age gap could be problematic for Louis‘ image with his fans, because men in general don’t think about much younger women being with older men as problematic at all. They dropped her like hot iron *after* the backlash from all sides. Then they didn’t handle communication well when they cancelled Asia at all. Like. At all.

For AFHF, I understand that Mexican fans are super passionate but I already gotten many messages by latam fans saying even though living in Mexico City they wouldn’t be able to afford it. I don’t think it’ll be in Mexico, they really need to be in the black numbers for this year‘s AFHF, so they need it to be accessible to fans with strong financial powers. Europe has the majority of louis‘ fandom with strong financial power, and logistically it would be crazy to fly back and forth about 16-18 hours between European festivals for AFHF, if he could do it in Europe again.

If he keeps it in a similar time frame (august) as the past (although he’s already had the first announcement two months earlier than usually), there’s only the last July or last August weekend (going into September) available.

A friend actually sent me the Ponte de Segura bridge that looks a lot like the viaduct used in the picture, and it’s right at the border of Portugal to Spain. End of July he’s got two festivals in Portugal and Spain, and he could easily oversee the set up during the week between those two.

There’s also huge festival grounds 20 minutes from that bridge, that usually hosts the BOOM festival, but only every other year - meaning that July weekend is free for 2024 and the infrastructure for the festival has been well established (since 1997) with shuttles, vendors, camp sites, stage infrastructures… it looks really great.

The thing that still got me entertaining Mexico as a possibility is the cacti that have been edited in, that mostly only grow in South America, and the Mexican promoter.

Anyways, tell me louis wouldn’t go for this?? The shore, the lake, the rocks, the surroundings, the heat??

Anyways the real clowning begins if you imagine louis launches AFHF to be TWO days by having Niall headline the first day… that would certainly draw the necessary crowds and they’re already doing a bit of the festival run together this summer 🤡🤪

[sun-marie]

xoti for character breakdown <3

How I feel about this character: I like Xoti a lot!! With all that goes down with the Gods in PoE1, I think it was very bold of them to feature a very faithful cleric in the second game and explore how she keeps her faith to Eothas/Gaun despite.... All That. I also like how she contrasts Edér and shows a darker side to the Eothasian faith, and the game never feels like it's out to "prove her wrong" for her belief, just to push her to explore it. Her design is also very good, it bridges the gap between monk and cleric very nicely!

All the people I ship romantically with this character: She's real cute with Maia imo, even if it sometimes veers a little into "manic pixie dream girl" for me (sometimes). Their relationship feels like they're finding a calm in all the storm and I really really enjoy that. And Firefly is an adorable nickname <3

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Honestly, with the exception of the obvious no-go's like Maia+Tekēhu and Xoti+Pallegina, I feel like the entire Deadfire crew could fit this spot for each other. For Xoti specifically, I think Edér is an obvious choice, I like how her infatuation evolves into genuine respect once they learn more about each other. In addition, I also love her friendships with Serafen and Aloth, I love the moment when Serafen looks into her mind and is like "uhhhhh HEY, watcher?", and the mentor-esque role Aloth fits into feels so cozy. She and Tekēhu also give me huge sibling energy, for better and for worse lol.

My unpopular opinion about this character: Again, no idea how popular/unpopular this is in the PoE fandom, but I personally really hate her accent. Like deeply. Like it's an issue I have with all of Deadfire actually, because in that game they decided to give nearly every Readceran a rural/southern American accent (including Adaryc who definitely did not have one before) and for me it dips into stereotype territory that I could really do without. Like, "oh the group of people with a strong belief in their "dead" god, who's all about forgiveness and redemption, and who are generally seen as uninformed suckers except when they're seen as sleazy religious cult-leading con-artists? yeah let's give them American Southern accents" like fuck offfff fr. At best it feels just kinda lazy when nothing else about Readceras really reads as "southern" (Xoti's name for example more brings to mind Chinese than Texan), and at worst I find it kind of offensive! It doesn't help that almost none of their accents sound very natural or well-researched, just kinda generic hollywood "cowboy accents" and that I've already heard plenty of that from CR's Imogen and FCG

It specifically bugs me with Xoti bc she can be both naive and super flirtatious, which imo is fine on it's own but those two traits + the accent rub me the wrong way soooo bad.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I hope we see her again, either in Avowed somewhere or in a future Pillars game <3

GIVE ME A CHARACTER: and I’ll break their ass down:

[achilles-the-boy-of-gold]

anonymous fandom confessions: I loved the ending of good omens s2. is it sad? yes. does it make sense? also yes. idk I just think it was a great way to end the season and “bridge the gap” between two bigger plots.

also people said that it wasn’t “quiet, gentle, and romantic” but I’d argue that it was. the whole season felt overall less busy than s1 and it focused on the character’s relationships together more. not even specifically aziraphale and crowley. I’d also argue that part of the ending is gentle and romantic, at least for gabriel and beelzebub.

I agree. Even though it was sad, it wasn't angry or brutal. It gave blue and green vibes, not red and orange. And also ineffable bureaucracy was very gentle and romantic like, "I found something that mattered more to me than choosing sides"???? I love them so much 🥰🥰🥰. S2 definitely focused more on characters and less on an overall goal they were trying to achieve, which I liked. There was no time limit, so therefore with was emotionally stressful, not (idk how to word this better) actually stressful. Although the ending is sad, I agree tgat it was very well written, and a good way to end a season(amd make it so they get renewed for a 3rd)

[iwishicanbeagoodpianist]

The Sun and the Shadow

Pairing: OC x OC Fandom: Star Wars Summary: A bounty hunter X romance story that will take you from the dirty street of Corellia to the expanse of the universe on the times previous to the Phanton menace events Warnings: Depictions of Violence

“Take a deep breath!… 1… 2… 3, pull the trigger!” The sequence was ingrained in his mind, a product of the special training he had received at the Caridia academy, fully funded by his boss Vookto, who publicly was one of the most well-known and popular politicians in Coronet City. Nevertheless, Deng Terrik knew exactly who Fela Vookto was, leader of the criminal consortium “Void Knights”, ruthless, heartless, and capable of anything.

ZIMM. The beam from the modified blaster rifle lit up the night once again, bridging the gap between the building he was in, 5 km away from the target, the landing platform at the private spaceport, owned by a minor Hutt clan that had recently tried to establish itself in the city.

ZIMM… Deng fired a second time, wounding a Trandoshan who was preparing to shoot him, even though the distance made it impossible to hit him. He immediately took out his communicator and said, “Nexu, I’ve softened the resistance a bit, now it’s your turn to finish the job. Be careful with the Trandoshans, I’ve taken out a couple, but nothing guarantees there aren’t more around… they’re a plague.”

For a minute, Deng only heard the white noise coming from the transmitter, testing his patience to the point of approaching his rifle again, thinking about how to finish the job himself from this distance.

“Boss… Sorry, the guys were busy dispatching the external guards. We’re in the elevator proceeding to…” ZIMM ZIMM, several blaster sounds interrupted the transmission. Deng rushed to look at the visor and managed to see a rain of blaster fire attacking a position from which another remaining Trandoshan was futilely resisting, shooting with his blaster until about 10 minutes later, an explosion, possibly from a thermal grenade, completely silenced him.

“As I said, a plague. Perimeter clear?”

“Yes, boss,” Nexu replied.

“Understood, secure the merchandise first and then wait for me there,” Deng said authoritatively. “Also, grab the cleanest of your men and prepare the uniforms.”

Without waiting for a response, Deng got on his speeder and quickly accelerated to the spaceport, blending in with the usual city traffic. On the platform, Nexu was waiting for him, a short but heavy Besalisk, with a blaster in each of his two lower arms and the uniform of a port guard. Deng took the uniform and started changing there.

“Any casualties?” Deng asked.

“A couple of droids and a Zabrak freelancer who decided to play hero instead of waiting for the grenade to take effect. A shot between the eyes. He forgot the fundamental rule.”

“Never face a Trandoshan with a rifle head-on,” they both said in unison.

Already wearing the uniform, Deng approached one of the Trandoshans he had killed with his rifle and took out his vibroknife, cut off the main finger they used to shoot, and grabbed some of the blood to smear on his uniform. Finally, he looked at the Trandoshan once more and spat on the ground.

About 30 minutes later, several port police units arrived at the scene, different from the ones Deng had previously arrived at.

“What happened here?” questioned Hysio, the unit chief, an older man with visible scars from years on his face.

Deng immediately got into character, as he had done many times before, changing his expression to a fairly realistic imitation of shock and fear. “Lieutenant Barrick, ID X-24053, sir. We received an emergency call on a short frequency on our transmitters, and upon investigating, we were attacked by both sides. In the end, we managed to defend ourselves after shooting for minutes and taking them down, but the scene is horrible, and our transport has been destroyed.” As he indicated this, he pointed to the bodies that had been repositioned to match the story.

The chief glanced at the scene, maintaining his stoic expression until he saw one of the boxes strategically placed with its lid deliberately left open. He approached it and, with the droid unit accompanying him, inspected the manifest. For those present, the veteran chief did not seem too concerned about what he was seeing; however, Deng’s ocular implant revealed the reality: microexpressions of anger and sadness broke the chief’s stoic mask.

Deng discreetly smiled; this was a scenario he expected, especially when the manifest indicated that the spice and other contraband items belonged to Porro Shulo, a city council member, enemy of his boss Vookto, and finally, the one responsible for the death of Chief Hysio’s family 10 years ago; a detail Deng had obtained thanks to one of his contacts in a seedy cantina in the lower city.

“Finally, I got you, bastard,” the chief whispered as the grimace on his face became more obvious.

“Sir?” one of his subordinates asked.

“Everyone, cordon off the area and register the evidence. I don’t want any report to exist without passing through me first,” he said vehemently and then began giving specific orders to each member of his unit until he reached Deng. “Barrick, take one of our transports and take your men to the headquarters, take these credits and buy them a round of whatever they want. Today they’ve done a good job, but we need fresh eyes on the scene, and you guys need some R&R.”

“Understood, sir!” Deng said, his voice trembling with the “shock” he had managed to imitate perfectly after many years.

Deng and the syndicate men got on the transport and left the scene as more units arrived. After a few minutes of following the path to the port police headquarters and after one of his men confirmed the transponder modification to mask their route, Deng turned left to the tower from where he had shot the Hutt mercenaries hours earlier. There, Nexu and the rest of his men were waiting for him, with his suit and one of the Hutt’s boxes they had taken as loot.

“The plan seems to have worked perfectly, boss,” Nexu said with a tone of surprise. “We didn’t have much time to fix things as you had ordered at the scene, and we thought we would have to rescue you from the cops.”

Deng laughed, something he rarely did in front of others, but given how things had turned out, he could allow himself: “Certainly, all of you have the delicacy and subtlety of a Gamorrean,” Deng said, causing general laughter among all the mercenaries. “But for this job, it wasn’t as important as guiding Chief Hysio in the direction we wanted, and once he took the bait we left him, it was impossible for him to focus on anything other than Councilor Shulo… the man hates him to death, and with good reason. Now we just need to ‘help him a little’ and ‘inform’ the Hutts about what Shulo did with their cargo… the poor councilor won’t last more than a month in his position.”

This comment generated surprise among the men, who until then had not understood the nature of the game being played, but their attention and interest lasted less than 5 minutes, replaced by a bet among them on who would finish off the council first, the Hutts with their mercenaries or Hysio.

After putting on his suit, Deng dispatched orders to those present and indicated to Nexu where to take the cargo and how to distribute it. After agreeing on the location where they would meet later, he said goodbye and got on his speeder, heading to his hideout. On the way, he received an encrypted call on his private transmitter, which he answered after activating security measures to avoid being followed.

“Vookto,” Deng said with a deferential tone of respect.

“How did it go?” Vookto asked in a tone very different from the one he used in his public interviews, where people only saw the respectable Czerialan representative.

“All in order. In less than a month, there should be a vacancy on the Coronet City council.”

“Good! We can finally place someone the public can trust in such an important position,” a phrase whose subtext brought a smile to Deng’s face.

“I know it’s been busy weeks, but I have a project outside Corellia, and I need someone trustworthy to oversee it. Come to my residence in 2 days to coordinate details.”

“Understood, see you in 2 days, Vookto,” Deng said diplomatically, though with effort given the exhaustion and adrenaline crash he felt.

Once the transmission ended, Deng activated the autopilot of his speeder, and his eyes focused on the city, its neon colors, imposing buildings, and vehicles speeding in all directions. After a while, he arrived at his hideout, whose entrance was in the opening of one of the mega skyscrapers under construction for decades.

The speeder parked on the platform, and Deng got off while taking off his clothes, holding the Trandoshan’s finger in his hand and bearing old blaster burn marks and healed cuts on his back. He entered the code on a panel, and a compartment opened with a series of fingers similar to the one he had cut hours earlier, perfectly preserved.

He looked at the finger in his hand one last time, smiled again, placed it with the others, closed the compartment, and headed to his bed as the opening above his hideout slowly closed, and darkness began to take over everything.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Liability

Fandom: Bullet Train

Pairing: Tangerine x Female Reader

Characters: Tangerine, Female Reader, Lemon

Tags: Bullet Train, Arguing, Friendship, Insecurity, Fucking, Fingering, Smut, Mild Angst, Kissing, Interupted Sex, Aftercare’s a bit shit, Moustaches, Tangerine & Lemon, Lemon & Reader are tight, established friendship, Female Reader, Penis in Vagina Sex, Fucking against a wall, quickies, if one of y’all speaks Japanese I am very sorry, Readers Codename is Peach

Summary: Reader and Tangerine fight and make up

Notes: that bit where tangerine 🍊 gets interrupted yeah it’s a bit different

‘Whoever killed him has that suitcase,’ Tangerine said.

‘A diesel,’ Lemon said, clicking his finger and pointing at me. I smirked as Tangerine’s jaw tightened.

‘A Diesel definitely has that briefcase,’ I said looking at Lemon who sat across from me.

‘Will you stop comparing everything to Thomas the fucking tank engine?!’ Tangerine snapped as his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. Lemon and I fell quiet for a moment as we watched him heave a heavy sigh. Silence fell between the three of us, well four if you counted the contractors dead son who was sitting beside us blood staining his cheeks. Finally, Lemon piped up, ‘Well it’s not an Edward who’s got it is it?’

‘For fuck-‘ Tangerine started but I cut him off.

‘Oh don’t be so narky,’ I snapped back, ‘besides the blokes dead now nothing we can do about it. I say we find the briefcase-‘

‘Oh so the white death can chop off just one limb each instead of both-‘

‘Well what do you suppose we do? We can’t magic him back to life but we can find the briefcase it’s on this train somewhere for fuck sake,’ I said, irritation riling inside of me.

I loved Tangerine. Adored him but sometimes he was really fucking irritating. Always looking on the black side of things. Always worrying. We’d always got out of things before. Why would it be any different this time?

‘Yeah well maybe if you had kept track of it like you were supposed to we wouldn’t be in this fucking mess,’ he spat.

‘Oh is that right? All three of us were responsible for it not just me. Because this job was for the three of us if I remember rightly.’

‘Well maybe I liked it better when it was just the two of us,’ he grumbled.

‘Tangerine-‘ Lemon interjected but I was hot on his tail that rage bubbling up.

‘Oh is that right?’ I said, ‘you’d rather it was just you? Just the guys?’

‘You know what…yeah,’ Tangerine said. His jaw was set and his eyes stony.

‘I’m just a liability huh?’ I said. My arms were folded now trying to hold myself together. I could feel the ache around my chest as I looked at him, almost egging him on to say all the things I’d worried about since I’d first joined the boys.

‘You’re not a liability-‘ Lemon said, looking between me and his brother as if we were two tennis players slinging the ball across the court to one another.

‘Well she’s not a fucking help,’ Tangerine said in a low voice that almost sounded like a growl. If I wasn’t so angry I’d be turned on with how he looked right now. His jaw was clenched, his eyes dark and flaming. His arms were pulsing against his shirt, tight and taught against his muscles.

We locked eyes for a moment, neither of us wavering until finally I broke contact. I turned in my seat grappling with the coat I had thrown across the head rest.

‘Peach,’ Lemon said as I stood up next to Tangerine who rolled his eyes. I was trapped in my seat and he didn’t seem to want to move, no doubt seeing that as giving in somehow.

‘Move,’ I said, looking down at him with a look of disgust.

‘Look Peach,’ he said, holding a large hand clad in thick rings in front of me.

‘I said move,’ I repeated withholding the urge to knock that hand out of my way. He and Lemon shared a look before he swivelled his legs to the side of his chair creating a small and awkward valley for me to shimmy through. I manoeuvred carefully through the gap, trying to save some face and hopefully not fall over. As I got out he moved his long legs back under the table and rested his hand upon it his fingers interlaced.

I looked at them both for a moment and then turned my gaze on Lemon solely.

‘I’m going to go and search this half of the train,’ I said pointing towards my right. I could feel Tangerine’s gaze upon my face but I refused to look anywhere but Lemon’s direction. He was trying to pay attention to me but his gaze kept flitting to his twin, what I assume he thought was unnoticed.

‘If you could do me a favour and search the other side, that is of course if you can tear yourself away from playing the blame game and actually do something useful,’ I said and without looking at anyone else I turned on my heel and strutted down the carriage and through the door to the adjoining compartment. Once I was through the door I darted into the toilet amidst the two carriages and locked the door behind me. I threw my coat on a peg on the door and went to look in the mirror. As I stood in front of the mirror, my hands gripping the sink in front of me, I realised I was shaking. With anger or insecurity I didn’t know.

I had been with the boys for a few months now. We’d met on a job and I had gotten them out of a tight spot. They had thanked me endlessly and promised me they’d make up for it. I’d told them that I wasn’t the kind of girl to hold onto a promise. So I cashed it in straight away and asked them to add me onto the team. I needed back up. And I figured having me there added an extra layer of believability to their outfit. Sometimes things needed a woman’s touch.

And sometimes being a woman was really fucking hard. I don’t know why I had gotten so upset. I knew that it had only been months but I thought I had become…one of them. I thought we were a team. I wanted to be part of the team. Not someone to sling the blame at when things got sticky. Not someone who was held to a different standard. Not a liability.

I let go of the sink and stood back assessing my appearance. My hair was slicked back in a hair clip and my outfit was simple. A tight sweater and a short leather skirt with knee high boots that were surprisingly easy to fight in, not to mention the heel packed a punch when sacking someone in the Crown Jewels. I decided not to bother taking my coat as I left the small bathroom figuring I’d come back for it later. I peeped a glance down the window to the carriage I had come from. Lemon was still sitting there though he didn’t notice me at the door as he was deep in conversation. I moved out of the small connection and into the next compartment quickly reminding myself of what I was here for. I needed to forget everything. I needed that briefcase.

I walked along the carriage slowly, my eyes roving over every nook and cranny the case could have been stuffed into. I mumbled general ‘hellos’ and offered smiles whenever I crossed paths with someone which fortunately was few and far between on this side of the train. My path continued through a few more carriages though as I got to the back of the train I realised my mission was ironically, fruitless. I had made it to the back of the train now, a room full of controls and panels. I bent down a little my eyes scanned every single one trying my best to commit it to memory though it being all in Japanese did hinder me a bit. I spoke minimal Japanese and my reading skills weren’t much better. I sighed and pulled back deciding to head back and find the boys.

As I opened the door to the control room stepping back into the stock room. It was jam packed with cupboards and trolleys that the staff used to dole out snacks and beverages. And there, leaning against one of the snack trolleys was Tangerine. I stopped in my tracks when I noticed him. How long had he been there? And why was he just lingering?

I folded my arms across my chest which made him smirk.

‘Come to check I’ve done my job?’ I said coolly.

‘Just making sure this side of the carriage is done,’ he said leaning up off of the snack trolley. We stared at each other for a moment until I broke and moved towards the opposite door heading back to the carriages but he was quicker and before I could get there he was stood in my way.

‘Tangerine,’ I grumbled trying to step around him.

‘Wait,’ he mumbled. I looked up at him and he was watching me with a soft expression, pleading in his eyes.

‘Why should I? Besides thought you wouldn’t want to be hanging around to much with me. What with me being a liability and alll,’ I said trying to move past him again but he grabbed my shoulder keeping me in place.

‘You can’t even let me apologise without that smart fuckin mouth interrupting huh?’ he sighed.

‘Funny, I didn’t hear much of an apology coming at me,’ I griped folding my arms across my chest but they were only there for a second as the dropped to my waist as I stood there stunned now feeling his large hands on the sides of my face as his lips met mine.

He kissed me with fervour and I allowed him too, then, once my mind caught up with everything that was happening I kissed him back. My arms wrapped around his neck as his hands trailed down my body finding my waist and pulling me into him so our bodies were forced together.

‘What was that?’ I said breathily as I pulled back.

‘Me trying to say I’m sorry,’ he smirked, ‘figured it was the only way to shut you up.’

‘You kissed me to shut me up?’ I snapped trying to pull out of his grasp. Panic flooded his face as his grip tightened around me stopping me from moving, ‘no, no, look I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘Then what did you mean?’ I said.

‘Look,’ he said, ‘I really am sorry okay?’

‘Oh yeah what for?’

‘For blaming you,’ he said, ‘it wasn’t your fault. The briefcase I mean…it was mine. I watched you put it away and I didn’t say anything…I didn’t say anything because I was too busy staring at your arse in that skirt. In fact I’ve been too busy staring at you a lot of the time…’

‘Tangerine,’ I sighed as he leaned down and kissed me once more. And again. And again.

‘We can’t-‘ I said as he walked me backwards until my back collided with a snack cart. I groaned as his lips met my neck and he sucked a little, making me shiver in my core.

‘I know,’ he said, kissing my neck again as his hands roamed down my body, cupping under my ass so he could lift me up onto the top of the trolley counter.

‘The case,’ I grumbled but my thoughts were disappearing one by one until my mind was only on his lips which were showering kisses all over whatever flesh was on show.

His lips moved back to mine and we kissed deeper than before until he broke away and said, ‘I’m not gonna finish anything if all I can think about is fucking you.’

He looked at me watching me closely as if waiting for permission but I didn’t say anything instead my hands grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and pulled him into me. As we made out my hands danced up and made their way into his hair pulling on it. I felt one hand on my thigh pushing up until it was fully under my skirt his fingers grabbing on my hip as his thumb trailed across my underwear instantly making me shiver.

I moaned biting on his lower lip as his fingers moved rubbing through my underwear which was getting slicker by the minute. My hands left his hair as I started fumbling with his pants trying to get them unbuttoned as fast as I could. I could feel him underneath the fabric. Pressed up against it tight and rigid begging to be relieved. My palm rubbed over it making him grunt as his mouth returned to my neck.

All of a sudden he was missing. His hands, his fingers, his mouth. All gone. And as I looked up I spotted him now across the carriage shifting uncomfortably as he straightened up and a train attendant stepped through the sliding glass door with her trolley. She smiled at me and then at him and we both smiled back trying to sell the illusion that nothing was amiss.

She nodded at me and it was only then I realised I was still sitting on top of the counter. I hopped off smoothing my skirt out and trying to ignore the warm stickiness in my knickers.

‘Tororī kara nanika hoshīmono wa arimasu ka?’ She asked looking at me and then at Tangerine. Who, entirely unlike himself, looked like a deer in headlights which made me smirk.

‘No?’ he said though it was more a question than an answer.

‘Īe, dōmo arigatō,’ I smiled at her. Even if I wasn’t too sure of what she actually asked my confidence in the reply seemed to land right with her as she turned her attention away from the both of us. She busied herself with her cart stowing it away and placing everything where it should be. I stepped around her and though he was still flustered I grabbed him by the waistcoat and pulled him outside. He followed me willingly as we got into the adjoining my eyes scanning for anywhere we could hide. Spotting a toilet I pulled him inside and our bodies collided again, the interruption long forgotten.

He pushed me up against the wall as his mouth returned to my neck and his hands carressed down my body. My fingers grappled with his waist coat pulling it open. He shirked it off of his back barely losing contact with me. As my hands focused on his pants he hiked my leg up around his waist, his fingers returning to their position from before. He moved my underwear to the side teasing between my folds with his fingers before he inserted two fingers into me. He stopped as his rings became flush with me instead opting to pump in me shallowly his thumb now honed in on rubbing my clit. I shivered under his touch my hands now frantically trying to get his pants down. As I unbuttoned his pants and pulled them out of the way along with his underwear he sprung out.

He was thick, uncut and slick with precum. It oozed along my fingers as I grabbed hold gently moving my hand back and forth. He moaned as I touched him panting against my neck.

‘Fuck me Peach,’ he grumbled.

‘I’m trying to,’ I chuckled, grinding against his hand. This seemed to rev him up into another gear. He pulled back looking at me with a smile which widened as I gasped when his fingers left me. With one leg already hiked up he found the other and forced it to join making me wrap my legs around him. One hand gripped behind my back, which was pressed against the wall partly holding me up, and his other pressed the wall next to my head. My hands gripped around his neck praying he wouldn’t drop me.

The hand against the wall came down between us as he took over where I’d left off tugging himself until he was lined up with me. He looked at me carefully teasing my slit a little as he waited for permission. I nodded and in one swift movement he entered me down to the base.

I hissed as he bottomed out. His fingers were a good warm up act but this was a lot thicker taking me a minute to adjust.

‘You alright darlin?’ he asked and I nodded pulling him in towards me so I could kiss him. I could feel him smirking as I kissed him then as he started to move in and out of me he mumbled, ‘good because I’m not stopping.’

He was moving quicker now building momentum as that old familiar feeling climbed higher and higher like a wave waiting to crash back down. One hand stayed wrapped around me whilst his other held my hip so he could pound up into me. He held me so tightly I knew I was going to have bruises later on. I didn’t know what to do. I was gripping onto him for dear life, relishing in the pleasure each movement gave me. My lips attacked him everywhere kissing, nipping, sucking wherever I could get and pulling whatever fabric I had to out of the way so I could continue.

That was when I heard the change in his breathing and felt the rhythm change in his hips. He wasn’t going to last much longer. And my climax was coming too.

‘Kiss me,’ I mumbled pulling him towards me.

‘You’re the boss,’ he said leaning in and locking lips with me. It was slightly more tender than I anticipated but I didn’t care. I ground down against him, creating friction against my clit which knocked me over the edge.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuuuck,’ I whimpered as I came, my walls convulsing around him making him grunt and pick up the pace. He moved quicker chasing his high and I shivered suddenly feeling tender as he hammered into me. His eyes were closed as I watched him but they opened as my fingers pushed an errant hair that had fallen in his face out of the way. My fingers traced down his face, stroking it gently as my thumb ran across his bottom lip.

‘Cum for me baby,’ I whispered. He nodded as if it was any simple instruction and a second later I felt him spill into me. He moved in and out a couple more times before he fell against me, pinning me between him and the wall. His head came to rest in the crook of my neck for a minute. His breath was heavy and wet but in all honesty I didn’t care. In fact, I found myself stroking his face. We stayed like that for a moment until we both seemed to come to our senses, or rather back to reality.

He slipped out of me and helped me until I was standing on my own two feet. I could feel wet stickiness pooling between my legs and I cursed myself for not taking my underwear off. Now I was going to be sitting like that all night. As he tucked himself back into his pants and redressed I grabbed a couple sheets of toilet paper and cleaned up a little, washing my hands after. As I stood at the sink I felt him come up behind me. I looked back at him in the mirror and smiled. He smiled too as his hand rested on the counter top, trapping me in between them. He leaned down and kissed my cheek and before I could do anything he left, leaving me standing facing myself in the mirror.

As I did, regret and anguish flooded through me. What had I just done? We had a case to work. A job to do. He couldn’t stop thinking about my arse before how was I supposed to carry on without thinking about everything that just happened. I’d thought with my vagina not my head. I’d potentially fucked up our entire working dynamic. I mean, he was to blame too but if I hadn’t opened my smart fucking mouth maybe this wouldn’t have happened. He was right.

Maybe I was a liability.

[smilingformoney]

MAJOR trigger warnings below for rape/sexual abuse.

My response to @idioticconsultingdetective’s post.

When I was 15, I was raped. It has, naturally, left me with a lot of trauma. I still get intrusive memories sometimes, when my brain pushes traumatic moments to the forefront of my thoughts for no apparent reason.

It doesn’t happen much. Once or twice a year maybe. And yes, it has been happening today.

Every victim of trauma has their own coping mechanism. Earlier this year I found a fic on ao3 that I found actually helped. It was gross, disgusting (NOT romanticising anything as @potionsev has suggested) and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Somehow - I’m sure a psychologist could tell me why - it helped me to compartmentalise my intrusive memories. I’m now more able to make myself believe the memories are just scenes from a story. Now, on the odd occasion it happens, I can go to that fic and convince myself I’m just reading a story.

I have never actively promoted that fic to anyone. The only reason it was discovered, someone looked at my ao3 bookmarks and found it. I should have made it a private bookmark, but to be quite honest I didn’t even consider something like this would happen.

When Twitter user ols7en asked me why, what was I to say? Was I to tell a 15 year old stranger, in 140 characters or less, that I was raped and the fic helped me process my trauma? Perhaps I should have not responded at all. I made a mistake in trying to brush it off as if it was nothing. I hoped they would move on, but perhaps I put too much stock in my irrelevance.

But at the end of the day, none of what I just said should matter. It shouldn’t matter why I read something. Policing what people read in fiction is policing thoughts, and as we hopefully all know, that’s a very, very slippery slope.

I don’t owe anyone this explanation. I’m giving it anyway because I know communicating my feelings helps me calm down from the near on 12-hour anxiety attack I’ve been having today.

Now, why did I delete my twitter account? Well, I’ve been close to it for a while now and this triggered my final decision. I’ve tried hard, for months, to fit in with the twitter fandom. It’s never worked. I’m not sure why - is it the generational gap? Is it the character limit restricting nuance? I’m not really sure. I’m the same person here and there, and here I seem to be vaguely popular. So there’s got to be something different between the two platforms restricting me from bridging the gap.

Pandora pointed out two things.

1. Sexualising Snape and Alan Rickman. We all do it here (mostly). Not so much on twitter - why? Again, who knows. Maybe in hindsight I should have restricted minors from following me.

2. ‘Attacking’ other users for developing minor characters. Not at all what happened, again perhaps this is due to the character limit restricting nuance. I tweeted in response to someone else that I found it confusing to log on and see people talking about characters I’ve never heard of. It certainly wasn’t an attack. Some people took issue with my describing them as ‘original’ - as if this is something I, with my 200k-word OC fanfic, would ever use in a derogatory sense.

What has really saddened me is the way Pandora has made this a personal goal to… whatever her goal is here. It’s sad because I liked her. I thought we were getting on. Then to be told I was never liked - that hurt. Why follow someone and interact positively while harbouring resentment? Why not simply not follow, not interact? I feel silly being personally hurt by a stranger on the internet, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.

Finally, to end on a positive note, I want to say a great big THANK YOU to everyone who has been kind to me today. I have told my side of the story to friends and they’ve comforted me, but more than that, people I don’t interact with have come to my defence. People who don’t follow me, who don’t know me or my side of the story. They’ve seen Pandora’s post and defended me. That, to me, is the true nature of the Snape fandom. 💚🐍