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corroded-hellfire · 8 months

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I’m dying for an AYW fic regarding the proposal and or wedding!!

A proposal you say?

@munson-blurbs and I are very proud to present to you the proposal of these two love birds. And how else would Eddie do it but with music? We hope you enjoy 💜

Words: 2.8k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Eddie had hoped that this would be the most perfect day you’d ever had in your life. Well, it was off to a shit start. Both you and Eddie were supposed to be attending a Billy Joel concert that night; something that you’ve been over the moon excited about for months now. Eddie was also excited, but it was for different reasons than seeing We Didn’t Start the Fire being performed live. He had come up with an elaborate plan to take you to dinner, the concert, and then just as it seemed as if the excitement of the evening had come to an end, he was going to propose.

Unfortunately, Lucas had put the kibosh on that when he phoned and told Eddie that the outdoor venue where the concert was being held said the show was a no-go due to inclement weather. Lucas works AV at the venue so was able to get the word out to you before the general ticket holders were notified. Eddie hated seeing the disappointed look on your face. He tried to comfort you, giving you sweet kisses and wrapping you up in his arms, all the while trying to figure out how he could salvage this proposal. The makeup date for the concert would likely be many months out and Eddie was damned if he was going to wait that long to ask you to marry him.

It had been a plan for you to go out with Nancy early afternoon to get your nails done together. “So they look good at the concert!” Nancy had said to you. “So when we take pictures of her ringed finger and when people keep wanting to look at her hand, she won’t be irked that her nails don’t look nice,” is the real reasoning Eddie gave to your friend. When you debate on whether or not you should even go out with Nancy still, Eddie urges you to.

“It’ll still be nice to have a girls’ day with Nancy,” he told you. “Go out, have fun. Get pampered.” So I can figure out what the hell I’m gonna do.

As soon as Eddie watches your car pull away from his spot at the apartment window, he’s pacing the living room and running his hands over his hair.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“Oooh,” Luke says as he comes down the hall. “Another quarter in the swear jar!”

Eddie turns to his youngest son and realizes he can use the boys to his advantage here. What would be needed to make a romantic evening here at home? Candles? There were plenty in the hall closet. Rose petals? Yes, they had been purchased for your anniversary last year. Eddie had his guitar; he could stage a mini concert for you. Yes, he could pull this off. He would need help from his mini-me’s for that, though.

“Alright, boys,” Eddie says, loud enough that Ryan peeks out of his room to see what his dad wants. “I’m gonna need your help with something big.”

“A monster truck?” Luke asks. Ryan rolls his eyes at his little brother as he comes to join them in the living room.

“Uh, no,” Eddie says. “Guys…I’m proposing.”

“Like, you’re finally gonna ask her to marry you?” Ryan asks, a sparkle gleaming in his eye at the question.

“Yep,” Eddie confirms. “Or, I was, but now the concert is canceled—wait, what do you mean ‘finally’?”

Ryan shrugs. “You asked us a million years ago if we’d be okay with you and her getting married.”

“Hold on,” Luke pipes up, putting his palms out to pause the discussion. “They’re not married?”

“Christ on a cracker.” Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and gives it a tiny massage. He’s so frazzled he can’t even tell if Luke is just trying to mess with him right now or not. “No, we’re not married. But I’d like to marry her, and I was hoping you two could help me decorate so this can still be special.”

With that, Eddie and the boys get to work to transform the apartment into a romantic oasis before you get home from your nail appointment. Thank God for Nancy Harrington.

Eddie strategically places candles throughout the bedroom, giving Luke strict orders not to light them. At this rate, the kid shouldn’t be allowed near an open flame until he’s forty. Instead, Eddie puts his sons in charge of sprinkling a trail of rose petals from the front door to the room. Ryan’s mastered the art of “sprinkling,” but Luke’s contribution looks more like small piles.

Oh, well. It’s the thought that counts.

It’s Ryan’s idea to make paper hearts and Scotch tape them around the apartment; ever his shadow, Luke joins him.

Eddie has his acoustic guitar laying on the bed, tuned and ready to go. He puts the ring box in his pants pocket and rechecks it approximately every thirty seconds to make sure it’s still there, as though it could slip through the fabric and into an alternate dimension.

He rushes to the door when he hears the buzzer ring, tucking his shirt into his pants, not sure if that’s how he wants it or not. When Wayne’s voice comes over the intercom, he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Boys! Grandpa Wayne is here!” he calls out, grinning when he hears their thunderous footsteps.

“Daddy,” Luke says, holding out a fun size piece of candy, “give this to her. Girls like chocolate. It’s romantic.”

Eddie tries not to chuckle as he inspects the melted Twix bar. “I’m sure she’ll love it. And I’ll make sure she knows it’s from you.” Like it could be from anyone else, he thinks amusedly. He tucks it safely into his pocket as he heads over to open the front door.

As soon as Wayne steps foot into the apartment, he’s bombarded by two excited children.

“Grandpa, Grandpa!” Ryan chants as Luke clings to the older man’s side.

“What is it, pal?” Wayne asks.

“Daddy’s gonna propose!”

Wayne was already aware of this fact, and that he was taking the boys for the night for this very reason, but he acts surprised for his grandkids’ sake.

“Wow! That’s real excitin’, isn’t it?” Wayne asks.

“Yes!” Luke replies.

Eddie’s uncle chuckles and ruffles both boys’ hair before taking a step closer to the soon-to-be-engaged man. “I’m real happy for ya, kid. She’s a good one.”

“Thanks, Wayne.” He claps a hand on the man’s shoulder.

The front doorknob jiggles and all four Munson men turn towards it in complete synchronicity. Eddie quickly presses a kiss to each of his sons’ heads and whispers for them to behave tonight before he ducks into the master bedroom.

Just in time, as you step through the door not a second later. Your eyes land on the trio in front of you and you give them a smile.

“Hey, Wayne! How’re you?”

“I get to spend time with my favorite guys,” Wayne says, resting a hand on each boys’ shoulder, ��so no complaints here.”

“We’re staying at Grandpa’s so Daddy can—” Luke starts, but is quickly hushed by Wayne leading him quickly towards the front door.

“Okay, time to go! C’mon you little knuckleheads. See ya later, hun.”

“Bye Wayne. Bye boys! Love you!”

There are muffled calls of “bye” and “love you too” but it sounds like Wayne is speed walking them out of there. You chuckle to yourself and drop your bag down on the counter. No sign of your boyfriend in the living room or kitchen. Brow pinching together in confusion, you sigh and rest your hands on your hips.

“Eds? The boys left; you can stop hiding now,” you tease, frowning when you still don’t see him. “Eddie?”

“‘M in here, babe,” he calls from the bedroom. There’s a waver in his voice and it has you moving even faster towards him.

He’s sitting on the end of your shared bed in black jeans and a maroon button-down shirt, untucked. His acoustic guitar rests on his lap as he strums idly. You barely have time to take in candles and hurricane of rose petals before he says, “Figured I’d bring the concert to us.”

The opening chords of Billy Joel’s “Just the Way You Are” reach your ears and it instantly has you getting choked up. Hot tears press at the back of your eyes as you remember dancing in the kitchen to this with Eddie before Ryan’s birthday party all those years ago.

Under your breath, you begin to sing along. It is a concert after all, but you want to keep your voice low enough that all you can hear is still Eddie’s. You lean back against your dresser behind you, looking deep into Eddie’s eyes as he serenades you. There don’t have to be words spoken, you know he understands what you’re saying with just your eyes. I promise I will always love you just as you are.

The next song in your personal concert is “You May Be Right.” Eddie gets into it, head rocking as he sings out the lyrics, even inflecting his voice on the word “lunatic.” It’s silly and sweet and everything you love about Eddie personified in this moment between the two of you.

“She’s Always a Woman” is the next song on the set list. This one has the tears that were behind your eyes now making their way forward. The moisture gathers at your lash line as you watch your boyfriend with absolute adoration. Once the song is finished, Eddie gives you a wink.

“Last song and then I’m gonna kiss you, I promise.”

Uptown girl

She’s been livin’ in her uptown world

I bet she never had a backstreet guy

I better her mama never told her why

You had no doubt that Eddie would finish with this song. Your song. How it started from teasing and joking to now being the song that makes the two of you look at each other as if there’s nobody else in the world for those few minutes.

Once he finishes the song, Eddie gently sets the guitar down and you rush into his arms. Your tears drip onto the maroon polyester of his shirt as you bury your face in his shoulder. Eddie rubs his hand softly up and down your back and presses a kiss to the top of your head. With a small sniffle, you look up at Eddie with wide, watery eyes.

“This is the sweetest thing ever, Eddie. I can’t believe you did this for me. I’ve been so bummed all day that the concert’s been postponed and I—”

The rest of the sentence gets silenced as Eddie presses his lips against yours. It’s partly because he wants to stop your rambling—and he wants to kiss you all the time in general—but also because the nerves are getting the better of him as every second ticks by. He has to ask you or he’s going to combust on the spot.

With one large hand cupping your cheek and the other wrapped around your waist, Eddie slowly and subtly moves further away from the bed, so he’ll be able to get down on one knee when the time comes

“I’d do anything for you, my love. You know that,” he whispers against your lips.

Eddie tries to recall the speech he had prepared in his mind, only to have nervous sweat begin to break out along his hairline. It only takes a few moments before you notice, because you always notice what’s going on with Eddie. The concerned look that mars your features suddenly has all of the tension releasing from Eddie’s body. The nerves are gone without a trace, replaced by warmth and love for the beautiful, amazing woman standing in front of him. How could he have been nervous about this to begin with? It’s you. You are the love of his life and, though he still can’t comprehend why or how, he’s the love of your life, too.

“Uptown Girl has kind of followed us on our journey, hasn’t it? From you playing your Billy Joel tapes when you were babysitting the boys and I’d come home and pretend to be all annoyed by it. But then one time I remember really listening to the lyrics and having this epiphany. You’re uptown girl, I’m the downtown man. Uptown Girl, you know I can’t afford to buy her pearls. But maybe someday when my ship comes in she’ll understand what kind of guy I’ve been and then I’ll win. I’ve always wanted to give you the world. I always wanted you to see me, silently dying for your attention on the inside. Because when you walked through the front door that first day…baby, you’ve never for a moment left my mind since then. I went from thinking you were this unattainable fantasy that I would have to be content with to admire at a distance to…this. The life we’ve built, the love we’ve shared. Princess, I wanted to give you everything but instead you gave that to me. I have everything I could ever want or need when you’re here in my arms. I still can’t believe how unbelievably lucky I am to call you mine. Every day I wake up and thank God when I see you laying next to me, all huddled up in the blankets. It feels right. More so than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. I’ve always told you that you’re my forever, baby. And I meant it.”

Slowly, Eddie lowers himself to one knee and the realization of what’s happening hits you with a sharp gasp. Is this really happening? you think. Or am I dreaming again? The beads of water that had been quelled for the most part start flowing again, leaving tracks down your cheeks. Eddie reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box. He takes one more deep breath before lifting the lid and revealing a shining silver ring with a princess cut diamond sitting atop it. Because he calls me princess, you realize.

“My love. My princess, my angel, my sweet, sweet girl. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Stunned isn’t a look Eddie has ever seen on you before. It feels like an eternity that you just stare at him, saying nothing. In reality, it’s probably less than ten seconds, but Eddie’s mind is currently working in slow motion. Finally, you nod your head and time is back to normal in Eddie’s world. The teary laugh you give him as you keep nodding has a smile forming on his face that he’s sure will be there for a while.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Eddie.”

At hearing the words come from your mouth, his smile grows into a grin that’s enough to light up an electric grid. He plucks the ring from its satin cushion in the box and slowly slides it up your finger. As he stands, he’s expecting you to admire the ring, inspect it and be giddy about the jewelry. But the moment he’s steady on his feet, you’re grabbing Eddie’s face between your hands and planting a fierce kiss on his lips.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you mumble against his mouth before pressing another kiss after kiss there.

“Can't believe you want to be my wife,” Eddie says in amazement as you finally part.

“I’ve wanted that from the moment I laid eyes on you. I never knew my schoolgirl crush would become my husband.”

Eddie leans in to kiss you again, smiling against your lips. “I’m so fucking happy that you’re gonna be my wife.” He pulls your body close against his and buries his face in your hair.

“Eds?”

“Hm?”

“Is there something in your pocket?”

“Huh?” He digs into the denim to pull out a half-melted Twix bar. “Oh, right. A gift from your future stepsons.”

At the word “stepsons,” an entirely different wave of emotions crashes over you. A different kind of love envelops your body and it might just be the warmest and fuzziest feeling you’ve ever felt.

“Holy shit. I’m going to be their stepmother.”

Eddie isn’t sure if you're happy or scared about it by your tone, but then you well up with tears again and a grin rivaling his own lights up your face.

“I’m gonna be their stepmom!”

Eddie chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“They are so lucky to have you. We all are. Now, uh,” the tips of his ears turn pink, and he clears his throat, “you mentioned a schoolgirl crush?” One hand snakes around your waist and lowers to grab your ass. “I’d like to hear more about that.”

“Whatever you say, fiancé.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #AYW #AYWS #request

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nychta-luxury · 1 year

Text

A Strange God

Gen Z reader

soft au - reader is an adult -

Warning: Not proofread, dark jokes, mostly comedy rather then serious, swearing.

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You were sitting in you're room playing genshin, doing your usual things like commissions, Tea pot, exploration, farming.

Until something strange happened your device wasn't responding. I don't mean the screen froze oh no no. You can still move your mouse however the game itself is moving on its own

"Oh hell naw I didn't sign up for this demonic shit. " You say as you back away from the device. Your main is still moving and the worst part is, its not even part of any idle animation or something you have seen before. You don't care if it's a hacker or some possession shit, EITHER ONE IS BAD

Then it hits you, you starting to get light headed, vision becoming blurry, you start on panicking. What the hell was wrong with your body just when you were about to reach for a phone you black out.

You are now concouice though haven't opened your eyes yet, it feels... Very peaceful your not sure why.. The birds are singing, the smell of flowers in the air, the grass on the ground

"THE GRASS ON THE GROUND?!" You instantly opened your eyes.

"Why is this grass brighter than my future." You say as you look at the neon like grass "Did people kidnap me to touch grass like a normal human being?" Look as much as unbelievable that suggestion was, you have been told to randomly touch grass more than your salary combined.

"You know what fuck it, it's like-" You look at the sky "I'm going to pretend I know what the time is, however I can say it's too early to care." You lay back down, ah how peaceful. Too peaceful, but who cares you can pretend to be in some anime and lay down at the grass.

"AHHH IS THAT A FUCKING BUG" You instantly sat up from the ground, honestly what were you thinking

"GET THE HELL AWAY SATAN SPAWN."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Okay now that's over with. You look up at the sky "Okay universe we both know you will fuck me over one way or another. I know damn well that the bugs were only the beginning." You sigh, done with your anime protagonist moment and reach out to grab your phone.

"Where's my phone...?"

"NO NO NOO," you say panicking "WHERE IS MY LIFE PURPOSE?!" You scream "I AM STILL WAITING FOR TCF MANHWA TO UPDATE!!"

It's been 30 minutes and you are still upset you don't have your phone. YOU DON'T CARE IF SOMEONE KIDNAPPED YOU AS LONG AS THEY GAVE YOU A PHONE OR BE AN IPAD KID.

"Ugh, what's the purpose of life if it isn't to update that one story you never continued in 2020." You say dramatically, if anyone was watching they would think you just lost a loved one.

you felt a small tickle on your foot, and your -20 IQ brain thought that it might be a spider... but suddenly you had gained 1 IQ and decided to actually look at what it was instead of kicking your feet aimlessly.

Turns out it was was a squirrel, thank goodness you didn't kick it. Let's just say tiktok traumatized you with too much information about animals..

The squirrel was just cuddling up to you, your weren't really sure why. It was then you realize your surroundings. "Why the hell am I in some old ass ruin??" Now your confused, you look around the area to see where you are perhaps you might even recognize it who knows? You can see a huge structure, it kinda looks like a crossbow, your not quite sure how to describe it. It feels very familiar for some reason, you can see carving marks on it, it read "Seed of stories, brought by the wind, and cultivated by time." huh for an ancient structure it sure had modern English. Wait. That's not English. How are you even reading that??? there is only one explanation for this. "I am some fictional work that doesn't even make sense, like 90% of fantasy reincarnation stories even if the protagonist was transmigrated and not reincarnated, but they use it anyway to sound cool." You say with a serious face, "Lmao as if that was true" You feel something on your shoulder, you immediately turn to what it was just to find the same squirrel just climbed up to your shoulder and now just cuddling you. "You are so lucky my reflexes didn't kick in, I almost throw you off my shoulders yk." "Why am I even talking to a squirrel? gonna be Snow White 2.0 ig" suddenly you hear something drop, you turn behind you and see- IS THAT AMBER???? looks like she dropped her bow, why does she look so surprised? Is it your outfit maybe? Maybe even the hair?? Anyways you just walked over and picked up ambers bow for her "Yo, you uh dropped this" "YOUR GRACE, YOU DON'T HAVE TO PICK IT UP FOR ME!!" "Wait tf you mean your grace." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Welp Gen z reader popped up in my mind so here- I decided not to add to many gen z jokes just yet since it is a little short story, might make a part 2 if this post goes well-

#genshin sagau #genshin soft au #sagau #genshin impact #gen z reader

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 1 year

Text

Fic: The Birds and the Bees

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Ship: Joel Miller x you (cishet f reader) / Ellie x Riley mention

Tags/warnings: underage child overhearing sex (but it's not weird I swear), queer thoughts, Joel is such a dad, Rough Sex, unprotected sex, piv sex, some mild dirty talk, trying to stay quiet during sex.

Summary: Ellie hears mommy (you) and daddy (Joel) have sex. I guess that's the plot.

Words: 2,257

A/N: WARNING can be a bit spoilery for episodes 6 and 7! Thanks to @rambling-in-purple for reading the Ellie part to make sure it wasn't weird <3

Ellie is almost asleep when something draws her back into the real world, and for a moment she has no idea where she is. Where did these clean sheets come from, this comfortable bed, this warmth? It takes her brain a few moments to realize that she is in Jackson, the safe haven reached yesterday. Today. What time is it?

A sound makes her sit up in bed, heartbeats quickening with growing fear. She had thought this place was safe, but that sound is definitely not reassuring. She reaches for her knife on the bedside table, just as she hears the sound again.

A creak. And it's growing rhythmical. And along with it, muffled moans.

Ellie's first instinct is that there is a fight going on in the next room. A life or death struggle between Joel, you, and a deceitful Jackson resident. Or maybe the infected finally got in? Is Jackson already overrun with infected, or did a roaming band of bandits get in?

Another creak, then a louder moan that gets cut off, and it dawns on Ellie.

Oh. Oh.

Being shown around Jackson, you seemed relaxed for the first time in, well, all the months Ellie had been with you and Joel. It was nice to see you like that, and Ellie wished that Joel could unwind a little as well, but Joel wasn't a person who did that. Maria had taken you and Ellie to the house, Joel had gone to see his brother, and returned in a huff. Ellie, in clean clothes washed hair, had gushed to him about the hot shower, but his demeanor had been so dark that she had fallen quiet. Just then, you had appeared out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, and Ellie had seen the looks you and Joel exchanged. You excused yourself to have an early night and took to your bedroom - the one you shared with Joel. Ellie didn't think twice about you two sharing: she had understood long ago what you were to each other, in addition to the protectors, family, you were to her.

But it's one thing to understand that two people love each other, and know what people in love with each other do, and actually hear it.

Conflicted, she lies back down, turns onto one side, wrapping the pillow around her head to muffle the sounds. It's too intimate, too private. It's wrong to listen to it.

Still, the reverberations travel through the wooden build of the house, and she feels them on her skin. Rolling onto her back again, she lets go of the pillow and stares up at the dark ceiling.

It's not the first time she's heard people having sex. She knows what's going on between the two of you and for what it's worth, she's happy for you. There is something so comforting about your obvious feelings for each other, and how they have spilled over onto her. Ellie knows that she was more or less forced upon you but since that night in the Boston QZ, a lot has happened. You're her family now, and she's happy that you and Joel can be safe and comfortable enough in your borrowed bedroom to have sex.

And it is kind of exciting to hear it, even if it's private. Ellie may be a virgin but she's not frigid. The moans she can hear must be from you, and she wonders what it is Joel is doing that's making you sound like that. Not that she wants to think of Joel like that, God no, that's just gross. The whole idea of a man sticking his dick into her feels gross. But surely a woman must be able to make another woman sound like that? Maybe she could ask you. If she wants to talk to you about sex, and that's a big if.

It hits Ellie that if you're her family now, then it would be like asking her mom about sex. And whatever is going on right now is like hearing mom and dad have sex. And that image is just too much for her teenage brain. When the bedframe starts knocking on the wall between her bedroom and yours, she sits up again and bangs her fist at it.

"Keep it down, you two, some of us are trying to sleep here!"

The noise stops at once, and she grins to herself as she imagines your aghast faces - especially Joel must look absolutely shocked.

"Serves you right," she giggles to herself before scooting down and tucking herself in. Sleepy and amused, she wonders what sex feels like. If she will ever have it. If she even wants it. Is there ever going to be anyone that she'd care to do it with? Will anyone ever find her attractive? Her thoughts stray to Riley, and how sweet it would be to share this comfortable bed with her, whispering in the night, kissing, maybe more - but she quickly brushes those thoughts away. That wound is still too fresh.

A muffled thud is heard from the other bedroom, but she doesn't care anymore. Curling up on her side, she succumbs to exhaustion and the soft mattress.

"Shit!"

"Fuck!"

Your heart is pounding, your mouth is dry, your breathless profanity barely audible against Joel's cheek as he's buried to the hilt in you. He was in a mood when he came back from seeing his brother, and you knew there was no point in trying to make him talk about it. Even in a huff, however, the sight of you in a towel was rare enough for him to stop and stare.

"Take a shower," you told him, seeing that all he wanted to do was pull the towel off of you, "and come to bed."

Strangely enough, he did as he was told, but even hot water wasn't enough to keep him in the shower for more than a few minutes. When he came out, naked and dripping after barely having had time to dry himself off, he joined you between the threadbare but clean sheets.

"It's been too long," he told you, breath hot against your skin, hands already cupping and squeezing and claiming. You hummed your agreement as you let him cover your mouth with yours, sucking the breath out of you as he laid on top of you, his broad frame blocking out everything else. His weight on you, his clean, naked skin against yours... it had indeed been far too long for indulgences like these. You remember stolen fucks and sleepless nights in the QZ, clothed on cold hard floors during runs, but the last time you could take your time like this? And even with all the time in the world, both of you were in a desperate hurry. He sank his thick cock into you before too long and you welcomed him deeper by wrapping your arms and legs around him. When you moaned, he covered your mouth with his large hand and grunted in your ear:

"I know, pretty girl, I know, I feel it too, but you have to stay quiet for me."

You whined into his palm, and he replaced it with his mouth, swallowing your moans as he thrust into you with a renewed fury. The bed creaked but you were too far gone, too cock-hungry to care if Ellie heard you.

Which she did, of course.

Joel froze at the banging on the wall, and he inhaled sharply when Ellie yelled out her request for silence. Mirth replacing dismay as you recognize the teasing tone of Ellie's voice, you start to tremble with held-back giggles. With a grunt, Joel heaves himself up on his elbows.

"It's not funny," he lets you know in a morose voice. You raise your hands to his cheeks, feeling the heat in them. It's too dark to see, but your tough, no nonsense man is fucking blushing.

"It is a little funny," you whisper back and pull him in for a kiss. "She's fucking with us, you do know that, right?"

"We're gonna traumatize her - "

"This is gonna traumatize her, and not everything else she has lived through and seen?" you scoff. Your hand slides around to the back of his head and grab a fistful of hair. "Wise up, Miller, and fuck me."

"We can't - "

"I swear to God, Joel, if you don't get me off, I'm gonna go naked into the street and find someone who will!"

Your threat, unfounded though it is, gets him back on the right track.

"Yeah?" he breathes in a low growl, lowering his face over your chest, his tongue licking a wet trail around your knotted nipple. "You'd let just anyone touch you? Let anyone do this to you?" He licks your nipple into his mouth and sucks hard, making you arch your back as you clench your teeth against the moan threatening to spill out of you.

"Joel...!"

"Hush, my pretty," he hisses, sliding one hand to your breast and burying his fingers into the plump flesh as he lowers his mouth to your ear. "You have to stay quiet if you want me to fuck you till you cum. Can you do that?"

Your whimpered yes is followed by a choked cry when he slams into you anew, this time wrapping one arm around your thigh to get in deeper. You hold onto the bedding, the headboard, willing it to creak less as Joel picks up where he left off, doing his best to resume his devastating pace yet without causing any more noise. It's difficult, but when Joel puts his mind to something, he always follows through. He braces himself against the bed and you whine when he takes his weight off of you. You want to be deliciously crushed, taken, rendered breathless and immobile, but now you are free to rub your clit as he fucks you. Your slick walls clench around him at once.

"Fuck, that's tight," he groans above you, baring his teeth. "So fucking tight when you do that."

You stare up at him through the dusk, caress his flexed neck muscles with your half closed eyes as the pressure rises inside you. You whisper bitten off words, as if Joel needed your words to know that you are so close to exploding, imploding, the mesmerizing rise and fall that you so desperately need. He dips down to steal your breath away with a kiss and you suck eagerly on his tongue while simultaneously panting for air.

He almost slips out when you cum, your slickness and spasming muscles nearly pushing him out. You press your lips together, will yourself to swallow the sounds that threaten to come out when your body trembles under him. Your body, so sensitive all of a sudden, wants to push him away, but instead you pull him down over you and move with him, desperate and wanton.

"Cum," you beg of him in a whisper that might just as well be a scream, you have no idea as the blood roars in your ears, "cum, baby, cum in me, please cum."

Your overstimulated pussy feels the heat of his load spreading inside you when your words rush him to his climax. The strangled sound he emits is one that you've never heard from him before, and you wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly to you. His heart beats rapidly against your chest, where your own heart trying to match his rhythm, and when he tries to catch his breath there's only a stutter. He's sweaty but you can smell him and it's clean, fresh perspiration. His hair is still damp, and you run your fingers through it, smelling the shampoo which no doubt is handmade of herbs by someone in Jackson. He clearly took the time to wash his hair, which surprises you.

It feels nice. Normal.

"You smell nice," you murmur to him, sniffing his sideburn demonstratively.

"You do too." He brushes his lips across your face in a light peppering of kisses, each one a lingering declaration of love on your skin. "You felt so good, baby, this was good."

You hum softly as he slides out, slick and seed trailing in the wake of his softening cock.

"Might want to go again in a minute," you warn him with a happy smile that you hope he can hear, even if he can't see it. Joel groans as he rolls over onto his back next to you.

"Too old for twice in one night."

You chuckle, feeling the post-coital relaxation weighing you down in the most delicious way. Once was definitely enough. But you wish that every night could be like this.

"You think she's still awake?" Joel asks, and for a moment you have no idea who he's talking about. You had quite forgotten that the two of you were not alone in the house.

"I'll talk to her in the morning," you offer with a yawn. "Woman to woman."

"And tell her what?" Joel sounds both cynical and troubled, which amuses you greatly.

"About the birds and the bees," you giggle, shoving him playfully. "And what happens when two adults like each other very much."

He scoffs but takes your hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss before placing it over his heart. The conversation is over for his part, so you lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes.

#the last of us fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #ellie williams #my fic

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the-quiet-fire-of-defiance · 9 months

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Melian and her Descendants as Native Aotearoa Birds

For day 4 @tolkienofcolourweek

A detailed image description is at the bottom of this post but I've listed the characters and their matching birds below.

Melian: hūia. A sacred bird, often considered to be one of the most beautiful birds in Aotearoa. Their feathers were traditionally only worn by people of high status.

Hūia were forest songbirds who paired for life and were utterly devoted to their partners. The pairs would fly and hunt together, caressing each other with their bills, singing duets back and forth. Often when a hūia died, its partner would die of grief a few days later (typically due to failing to eat or drink).

There was a sharp decline in the numbers of hūia after the arrival of European settlers in the 1840s. By the early 20th century, they had disappeared from our forests forever.

Lúthien: tūī. The most talented of our songbirds, a stunningly beautiful creature with iridescent blue-black feathers. Their double voicebox allows them to mimic almost any sound, including human speech. They often sing all day long.

Tūī are messengers to the gods. In Māori culture we might compliment a singer by saying that they have korokoro tūī, the throat of a tūī.

Also I'm feral about this quote:

Farmer and ornithologist Herbert Guthrie-Smith, writing in the early 20th century, observed of a female tui singing on the nest (tui are the only bird in the world to sing on the nest): “We were close to her, yet she sang as if her song could have no ending, as if the world was too full of the ecstasy of life for wrong and rapine to exist. The sun was shining above the flowing river, the leaves green, of every shape and shade; her great love had cast out fear.”

(Source)

Díor: kōtare, aka the sacred kingfisher. (Yes, okay, this is partially a joke about Dior being a sacred king.) Although kōtare are native to Aotearoa, they're also found in other countries. Most Eastern Polynesian cultures, including many Māori iwi, believe that kōtare have power over the ocean and waves.

Kōtare can sit motionless for hours while waiting for their prey, watching with perfect stillness. For this reason, a person who is alertly watching for enemies is sometimes compared to a kōtare.

Elured and Elurin: tara iti, aka fairy terns.

For Māori, terns in general are associated with people of high status. Tara iti are the smallest species of tern in Aotearoa, weighing in at about 70 grams (or 2.5 ounces). They're also our rarest breeding bird. Sadly, there are only about 40 individuals left.

Elwing: kōtuku - I expanded on this in another post

Elrond and Elros: North Island kōkako and South Island kōkako (respectively). Kōkako are blue-grey songbirds who often have a similar call to tūī, although with a slightly less extensive range of sounds. They love to sing duets; in fact, they sing the longest known duets of any bird in the world.

The North Island and South Island kōkakō are closely related but distinct sub-species. Although the North Island kōkako has been the subject of a successful conservation campaign, the South Island kōkako is considered possibly extinct. (The last two reliable sightings were in 2007 and 1967.) However, some people who walk the remote tracks of the South Island swear they've heard it singing.

Elladan and Elrohir: tīeke, aka the North and South Island saddlebacks. The two species are very difficult to tell apart for all but the most trained eyes. They're close relatives of kōkako and hūia.

Tīeke are notoriously fearless. In Māori culture, they're guardians and guides.

Arwen: Chatham Islands tūī. While these birds look extremely alike to mainland tūī, they sing a very different song.

(Since this bird is from the Chatham Islands, the Arwen faceclaim is a Moriori woman. Moriori are the indigenous people of the Chathams.)

Image description below cut due to length.

A series of paired images. Each pair has one bird and one faceclaim. All of the faceclaims, except for Arwen, are Māori.

1: Hūia and Melian. The hūia is a black bird with an orange wattle, long curved beak, and white at the end of its tail feathers. Melian is a dignified woman with light brown skin, brown hair, and a traditional chin tattoo. She wears traditional clothing and a pounamu (greenstone) ornament around her neck.

2: tūī and Luthien. The tūī is in flight. The light has caught its wings and tail feathers, making them look a vivid blue. Luthien is a light-skinned (but distinctly Māori) woman with long dark hair. She wears a black dress and a pounamu necklace.

3: a kōtare and Dior. The kōtare is a blue/black bird with a white neck and underside. It's in flight, carrying something in its mouth. Dior has dark brown skin and facial tattoos that mark him as someone of high rank. He wears a carved bone ornament in his hair, a pounamu necklace, and a traditional feather cloak.

4: tara iti and Elured and Elurin. The tara iti is visible from behind, its white wings spread, either landing or taking off. Elured and Elurin are infants swaddled in blankets side by side.

5: Kōtuku and Elwing. The kōtuku is a gorgeous white bird with a long neck and stilt-like legs. This one standing on a tuft of grass surrounded by water, looking down at its reflection. Elwing is a light-skinned, dark haired pregnant woman wearing a white cloak and cradling her stomach.

6: North Island kōkako (kōkako o Te Ika a Māui) and Elrond. The kōkako is a blue-grey bird with a black beak and blue wattle. The Elromd faceclaim is Alex Aiono (Ngati Porou, Samoa), a man with light brown skin and dark curly hair. In this photo he's shirtless, holding a flower and facing the righthand side of the image.

7: South Island kōkako (kōkako o Te Waipounamu) and Elros. The kōkako looks very similar to the bird above except for its orange wattle. The Elros faceclaim is also Alex Aiono, but in this image he's standing on a beach in front of the sea, smiling.

8: North Island saddleback (tīeke o Te Ika a Māui) and Elladan. The tīeke is a medium sized bird with a red wattle and mixed black/red-orange plumage. My Elladan faceclaim is Jordi Webber (Te Atiawa, Ngāti Toa, Te Arawa, Ngāti Raukawa, Ngāti Maniapoto). He's a young man with pale brown skin, wavy black hair, and grey eyes.

9: South Island saddleback (tīeke o Te Waipounamu) and Elrohir. He is also represented by Jordi Webber.

10: Chatham Islands tūī (tūī o Rēkohu) and Arwen. This tūī is sitting on a flax plant, but it looks very similar to the tūī photo from earlier. It has blue-black plumage, a white tuft at its throat and orange pollen on its head. The Arwen faceclaim is a smiling Moriori woman in front of trees. She has long brown hair, light brown skin and a white dress.]

#melian #luthien #dior #elured #elurin #elwing #elrond #elros #elladan #elrohir #arwen #silmarillion #tocweek2023 #māori-fying tolkien #mine #long post #thank u to Toi for showing me how to do the letters thing #i very definitely didn’t overdo it in the slightest

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jungle-angel · 2 months

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Master Of The Earth (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: Out of all the Daggers, Bob has the biggest green thumb of all

Tagging: @floydsmuse @callmemana @attapullman @bradshawsbaby @withahappyrefrain

It was one of those spring days where you knew summer would be right around the corner, bright and sunny, the birds singing and the fresh early morning air making its way into the house. You had been sitting out on the front steps, enjoying your morning coffee and relieved that your lesson plans for your class's sixth grade year were finally done and that all you would have to worry about were the Greek Games and the spring fair at the school you taught at.

You heard the faint playing of music coming from somewhere around the corner, just having finished a phone call with Bob's grandfather and wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you.

You wandered around the back to the backyard where the garden was already beginning to bloom, noticing that the greenhouse door was cracked open just a little to let in the fresh air. A cheeky grin played with your lips when you heard the bluetooth speaker playing "Shambala" by Three Dog Night and your eyes laying upon Bob who was dancing shirtless as he shoveled some of the bagged soil into the clay pots on the long wooden table.

"BOB!!"

"Jeebus FUCK!!!" he blurted out, jumping a little.

"Have you been in here all morning?" you asked him.

"Since five in the AM," he chuckled, drawing you in for a tight hug.

Oooh he was warm, so warm and a little sticky from the greenhouse humidity, smelling of fresh dirt and wet leaves. You kissed the curve of his neck and the tops of his pecs before he gladly and eagerly returned the kisses you had been giving.

"Oh, I've gotta show you these," he said excitedly.

He gently guided you to the bench where a whole pile of seed packets were waiting to be opened. "Oh my God," you chuckled. "Did you raid the entire Home Depot garden section?"

Bob had opened his mouth to say something. "I......ya know......it's funny you should ask that....."

"Robert Joseph......"

"(Y/n) I swear half of it was my dad's idea, I'm not lying."

You laughed and rolled your eyes. Bob, his dad Joe Floyd and Joe's father, Lowell, were the only three people on the face of the earth who would have willingly raided a Home Depot garden section and not given a single fuck hereafter. "Alright Professor Floyd," you said. "Continue with the lecture."

"Ah ok," Bob said. "Now we have here an assortment of plants that will be first put into clay pots and then gradually into bigger ones until they are ready to root in the ground. Now if you would like to flip through the pile of seed packets, you may feel free to do so."

You laughed and gladly flipped through the pile of packets, amazed at what Bob had been able to get. Calendula, oregano, cayenne pepper, chamomile, poppies, lavender, rosemary, mint, marigolds, valerian and a whole host of other herbs and flora that you swore weren't even native to where you lived.

"Ooh, yarrow," you said.

"That was always Meemaw's favorite," Bob explained. "I've also got tulsi, catnip and mugwort too."

"What else did you plant?" you asked him.

"Maybe a peach tree," Bob said, blushing a little. "For my sweet, juicy little peach of course."

You giggled, the heat filling you from head to toe.

"I've also got a few bushes too," Bob continued. "Blackberry, elderberry, raspberry.......maybe a camellia bush. Black cohosh will help with mom's hot flashes and keep the pests away. Nasturtium will grow hardy but they need wood dowels to climb up. I'd like to see about some mullein and nettle but I'm not sure where we'd put it. Hawk said he would come by later and give me some white sage seeds that he extracted from his daughter's garden too."

You could have listen to him babble on for hours about the plants and the experiments he was trying. You made a mental note to introduce him to Mr. Jenkins, the high school science teacher who was teaching his ninth graders some of the principals and techniques involved in holistic farming, as the two of them would have a day long conversation.

You and Bob set to planting the seeds, scooping the dirt and putting it into the pots along with the seeds and properly burying them just enough so they could push through to the surface when the time came. You watered and fertilized as you saw fit, taking pictures of new sprouts or buds and adding them into Bob's journal full of his drawings, writings and observations. You both had lost track of the time until you realized it was already noon and time for lunch. But thankfully, the day wasn't over yet and you could do as much more planting as the day would allow.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x you

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kpop---scenarios · 1 month

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Hidden Lies (1)

Pairing: Unknown x Reader

Warning: Violence, Crime, Almost Assault

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: This is a remake of Poisonous Lies. Some parts may be familiar, and that would be why. I hope you enjoy!! Let me know who you think she'll connect more with!

This morning you woke up, listening to the sounds of birds chirping, the sun shining through your window, and feeling like it was going to be a great day.

“YN.” Your mom yells. It was too early and you were trying to wake up peacefully. “Y/N!” She calls out again, but this time it's more of a screech.

You groan loudly, folding your pillow over your ears, wanting to enjoy a little bit of time without her yelling at you. The sound of her shrieking voice was coming closer every second, until it was practically right in your ear.

Your eyes are still closed as you feel your blanket being ripped off your body, your mom cursing at you.

“Wake the fuck up!” She yells. “Don't you hear me yelling for you? I have shit to do, I cannot keep waking you up in the mornings! damn, you're going to make us both late”

You were 22 years old and you still live with your mother. This life you had was sad, although it was your fault. This technically was your choice. You had decided to drop out of school and go home to help your mom out after your dad was sentenced to 10 years in prison for a lengthy list of crimes, although well it wasn't his fault, it also was at the same time.

Your father had lost his job, and instead of telling your mother and them trying to figure it out, he went and got a loan from some people involved in crime that he most definitely should have not gone to. He didn't think about the fact that he would have had to pay that money back, plus interest. And when the time came for them to collect he didn't have it. So he was recruited for odd jobs until he had paid everything back, he didn't get very far though. His last job ended up being a sting operation and he was charged with trafficking drugs, intent to sell, attempted kidnapping, attempted human trafficking and a few other things. He wouldn't tell them why he did it, he didn't want things to get any worse, even though you weren't sure if they could or not. It wasn't his finest moment, he was trying to help his family even if it was the worst way possible. He was a good man and a good dad. Your father was a man who would do anything for his family, especially to protect them, and that’s exactly why he did what he did and now he was suffering the consequences of his own actions.

“I swear to god, YN.” Your mom yells as she grabs your arm, trying to pull you out of bed. “If you don't get your ass up in the next 30 seconds, I'm going to lose my mind! Your train leaves in 45 minutes and if you dont get ready and leave in 10 minutes then you're not going to be able to see your dad.” She sighs. “It’s his birthday, remember.”

Shit. You quickly bolt up in bed, scrambling to get out of your bed. You were rushing around your room grabbing whatever looked the cleanest on your floor before heading to your bathroom, slamming the door in the process.

Your mom sighs loudly before she leaves your room so you can rush around and get ready. You knew it was hard for her, not having your dad around, and you were sometimes difficult but you were trying. You felt guilty, especially since she wasn't able to go on the visit today, her shitty boss wouldn't let her have the time off. It had only been a year since he’d been locked up and you, mom and your brother had faced some very hard times. The three of you have been barely surviving paying the bills, mortgage, car, gas, groceries as well as trying to pay back your dad's loan in cash, rather than jobs similar to what your dad did.

Your mom was working 2 jobs, you and your brother both working full time, and all your money went towards everything needing to be paid, rarely leaving you much of anything left over but the three of you made it work, you always figured it out. You would do whatever you needed to do.

You're running down the stairs, trying to put your hair into a semi decent bun and forfeiting any makeup.

“You ready?” Your mom asks, car keys in her hand.

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag.” you breathe. You run into the kitchen, snatching your purse from the counter before you head back to the front door that's left wide open. You roll your eyes heading out the door, closing it behind you before sliding into the passenger seat of the car the three of you shared.

Your mom doesn't say a word to you on the ride to the train station. You hold your train ticket in your hand as she pulls in front of the station. “Please tell him happy birthday from me and that I love him.” she whispers as you're getting out of the car.

You give her a half smile. “I will mom.” You say, getting out of the car and closing the door. It doesn't take you long to navigate your way through the station, you’ve been making this trip a few times a month. You tried to see him as much as you could but between work, work and work, you never had a ton of time. You picked a seat on the train, setting your bag down in the seat beside you. You just made it on time, seconds later you were on your way and you couldn't wait to see your dad.

You stood in line, waiting to have your bag checked and to go through the x-ray machine. When that was all clear you headed to the front desk, showing your ID and filling out paperwork before you could even go into the room and wait for him. You sit down, your stomach is twisting with nerves. You weren't sure why, this was like any other visit you had been on.

“LN, YN.” You hear. “You can head in now.” the guard finishes, pointing towards a visitation room. The door buzzes open and you see your dad immediately, sitting in the back, in the middle of the room. His fingers were locked together with his head down. It felt like it had been forever since you had last seen him. “Dad.” you sniffle and his head shoots up, a smile spreads across his face so quickly as he stands up from his chair. You walk towards him, his arms are wide open, waiting to embrace you. You crash into his chest, wrapping your arms around him as he does you, holding you tightly. You missed his hugs, and the safeness you felt from him. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt safe.

You both let go, tears brimming in your eyes as you both sit down across from each other.

“Happy birthday dad.” you smile. He reaches out to grab your hand, whispering a small thank you while his head hangs low. “Mom also wishes you a happy birthday, and she says that she loves you.” You tell him, but you knew he already knew that.

“I know,” he smiles. “I'm assuming that she had to work today?” he asks.

You nod your head.

“She tried to get the time off but you know Dave, he’s a dick and wouldn't even let her have the morning off.” you tell him.

But again, you knew he already knew that. Dave and your dad had been friends for years, but after your dad was sentenced the man acted as if he never knew him and was never friends with him. Your eyes wander around the room, as if anything would be different since the last time you were here. Your dad begins telling you a story, something funny that had happened the other day. You were listening, but you couldn't help but let your eyes wander.

You looked out into the common room, as you were scanning the room, your eyes landed on someone. A man, a very handsome dark haired, angry looking man staring directly at you. You tried to look away from him, but it's like you were locked in with him. He was so captivating you honestly didn't even want to look away, but you do, not before he smiles at you slightly, giving you a small wink.

You’re brought out of your trance by your dad clearing his throat before continuing on with his story. You catch the end of it, laughing along with him even though you didn't really hear the rest of it. “Tell me about everything. What’s going on with you? How is your brother?” he asks. Before you can answer the lights of the prison flicker, the alarm blares as the red siren lights up the room on beat with the alarms.

“What’s happening?” you yell over the loud sounds. You were feeling a little panicked but before your dad could say anything you both hear yelling. You looked at the commotion in the common room, which was only separated from the visiting room by one large metal door. You glanced around, seeing the other visitors watching what was happening but no one was reacting to anything.

“I'm sure the guards will get it sorted, fights break out all the time. No need to worry.” Your dad tells you, trying to reassure you.

You couldn't help but worry. You watched as more and more fights were beginning to break out between prisoners, prisoners and guards. You watched in horror, as the prisoners seemingly took the guards down more easily then they should have been able too. Your eyes were darting to every window that you could see and watched guard after guard collapse, inmates grabbing the guns or batons, a cluster of inmates slamming guards into the windows, shaking what is supposed to be bullet proof glass.

Seconds later a fight in the visiting room breaks out after an inmate bashes a guard's head against the table. You're panicking now, other visitors are screaming, leaving their tables trying to escape, some pounding on the door, begging the guards to let them out.

The inmates from the common room begin trying to shoot the windows, or trying to pry open the doors into the visiting room.

The doors were buzzed open letting the guards from the front now rush in from one side to try and calm the situation but instead they let the inmates rush through the other doors into the room where you and your dad were. He had taken you to the corner of the room, standing in front of you to protect you. You peek out from behind him, the two of you watching in horror as blood and tears are spilled, the cries and pleas from visitors are yelled out as the inmates attack anyone in their way, including those who were just trying to visit their loved ones.

Your heart is pounding so loud, you can hear it in your ears. You feel weak, light headed. Your adrenaline hasn't kicked in yet. Your stomach is churning at all of the blood. Your father grabs your hand pulling you with him through another open door, and hopefully to safety. As soon as the two of you make it into another room, you're confronted by three large men.

“Look.” Your dad begins. “We don't want any trouble. I'm just trying to keep my daughter safe.”

The man in front smiles, but even his smile is terrifying.

“What a good dad you are. But don't worry.” He says. “We'll take her from here. I'll personally keep her safe.” He finishes, licking his lips.

“No thank you.” your dad says. “We're just going to go.” You grip onto your dads orange jumpsuit.

“Dad.” You whisper. He can hear the fear in your voice.

He runs forward, punching the man, pushing him into the two men behind him. “Run YN! Run!” He screams as the men grab him, taking him elsewhere. You try to run for the door but you're grabbed, pulled back and pushed against the wall. The man who had been talking to your father stood inches from your face. You could see the evil in his eyes as he eyed you up. You can feel his breath on your neck as he moves closer towards you.

You look both ways, trying to find your way to escape. There's only one other door besides the one you came through and you're pretty sure it's locked. Fear jolts through your body as you try and think of anything you could possibly say or do to get yourself out of this situation but you know that there is nothing you can do, except try and fight.

“Get away from me!” you yell, putting your hands on his chest and pushing as hard as you can.

"Don't fucking do that.” He snaps, shoving you against the wall. He raises his hand as he gets closer to you, his finger tracing your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears rolling down your cheeks and you let out a scream, as loud as you could. You switched between yelling "help me." And screaming, hoping someone would come for you.

The man slaps his hand over your mouth, angrily. "Why would you do that, don't you like me?" He asks. "It's been a long fucking time since we've been this close to a woman." He chuckles. You can feel his body pressing against you. You try to focus on anything else, but all you can hear is the sound of him breathing and the screams and cries of the ones caught in the riot.

Just as you were about to give up, you feel a release. You can no longer feel his body pressing against you, you can hear yelling much closer. You open your eyes and see a dark haired man, and a familiar other dark haired man pulling the men away from you. Within seconds the man who wanted to attack you was down on the floor, and the two men who saved you grabbed your hands, pulling you out of the room and away from the chaos.

Where was your dad? Was he okay?

The three of you ran down a hallway, the alarms are still blaring, you can just barely hear police sirens from outside.

The two men had no idea where to go, everywhere you looked there was violence, inmates with weapons and minimal guards that were alive.

"Hey!" You hear from down the hall. You all turn around and see the man that had you pinned against the wall. Anger suddenly fuels you, wondering where your dad was.

“What did you do to my dad!?” You scream. The man stops walking, a grin spreads across his face. “Don't worry, he's just fine. Now you two.” He says, pointing to the two men who were still holding onto you. “You don't get to take what's not yours.” He frowns. “I want her back.” He yells down the hall. The two men who had taken your father appear behind him.

“Fuck.” One says. they turn around, pulling you in a different direction. You were turning corner after corner until one of them found an unlocked door. He opens it, quickly pulling you inside before slamming it shut. Your body is shaking, you can't help but sob. You never in a million years expected today to turn out how it has.

Both the men quickly jump into action, grabbing whatever heavy pieces of furniture they can find to shove against the door. You watch them, still feeling just pure shock.

"I'm sorry." You whisper. You weren't even entirely sure what you were sorry about but it felt appropriate in the moment.

They both stop covering the door, staring at you. “Sorry for what?” One asks.

“I.. I'm not sure. But you're in this mess now because of me.” You sigh.

“We're in this because we didn't want to see an innocent woman get taken advantage of by some fucked up men. You didn't start it.” He says.

“What's your name?” The other asks.

"Y/N." You sniffle.

“I’m Wooyoung, and this is San.”

“Nice to meet you both. And thank you. I truly don't know what would have happened if you guys didn't save me.”

“It's nothing.” San says, giving you a half smile. He could not stop staring at you, just like when you were in the visiting room with your dad and he had caught your eye.

Before you could say anything back, the knob to the door started to shake. There's pounding at the door, and that's when you hear it.

“Y/N.” your dad calls. “Y/N please let me in. They're coming.” He cries. “Please.”

You run to the door, trying your best to move everything they had put against the door.

“Y/N stop.” Wooyoung yells, trying to pull you away.

“Please!” You cry. “Please help me. That's my dad, we need to let him in.”

San and Wooyoung loom at each other. They both know this is a bad idea but knew that there would be no chance of you letting up.

“Whatever happens?” San says. Wooyoung nods his head.

“Whatever happens.”

The two men help you pull the large filing cabinet, desk and other heavy things away from the door. You unlock the deadbolt, ripping the door open, the smile on your face falling immediately.

“I'm sorry Y/N. I'm so sorry.” He cries. He's pushed inside the room by the three men from before. He trips, falling to the floor with a thud. You wanted to go to him but the man has a gun now and it's pointed directly at you.

“You two aren't very good at hiding.” He chuckles.

“Eric, you don't have to do this.” Wooyoung says, his hands up as he inches towards you.

“Fuck you, Woo. You'd be the fucking same if you were locked in the hole for months at a time.” Eric snaps. “And now I have a chance for something real and you two are trying to ruin it for me.”

“I'm telling you not to fucking do this.” San snaps. He can see Eric eyeing you up, your dad laying on the floor, one of Eric's men's feet pinning him down.

“You think I'm gonna listen to you?” Eric laughs. “Just enjoy the show.” He says, grabbing onto Your wrists. Wooyoung and San try to lurch forward but they're stopped by the other two, flashing their knives. Eric pushes you against the wall, pulling you back towards him. He pulls you to the ground, climbing on top of you, straddling you. The gun is still shoved in your face. You say nothing, tears just stream down your face. Your eyes dart in-between San and Wooyoung as you silently plead for one of them to do something. To help you.

Eric rips open your shirt, exposing your bra. You look away, seeing Wooyoung and San nod towards each other. They both lunge for the men, knocking them down. Your dad scrambles to his feet taking over for San, as he runs for Eric, who was too in his own world with you to hear anything else. San tackles him, causing Eric to let go of the gun, it slides across the floor. Eric scrambles beneath San as he delivers hit after hit.

“Everybody get on the fucking ground.” You hear. Smoke bombs thrown into the room. Guards in full tactical gear flood inside, guns at the ready. San gets off of Eric, all of them men laying on the floor. “Hands on your head.” They yell.

You do as you're told. “We have a hostage located.” They go to you first, helping you up. You're coughing loudly as they guide you out of the room, into another one to be treated. They'd finally gotten everything settled down and started getting inmates back into their cells, or medical treatment.

“You took a fucking hostage, the warden is deciding your punishment.” A guard snaps at Wooyoung and San as they escort them past the room you're in. You push the nurse away, running out of the room.

“Wait!” You yell. “They didn't take me hostage. They saved me from him.” You say, pointing to Eric. “He tried to.. he tried to...” You cry. “They protected me from him and I'll forever be grateful.” you finish. You walk over to the two handcuffed men, wrapping your arms around both of them, until they're both escorted off. Both of them looking over their shoulders, giving you a smile and a wink.

Once you were checked out by the nurse and cleared to go, you were led out to the front where your mom was waiting for you. You sobbed into her shoulder as she hugged you tightly, apologizing to you profusely. She grabbed your hand, pulling you out to the car. you look back at the prison as she drives away, silently thanking Wooyoung and San for saving you. You'd have to find some way to properly thank them sometime.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Your mom asks.

“Dad and I were talking when fights broke out. Inmates were attacking guards and other inmates.” You sigh. “They opened the doors to the visitation room to let guards in but inmates rushed in.. one gut I guess had his sights set on me.”

“Dad protected you right?” Your mom asks.

“He tried. But there were 3 of them and one of him.. they took him away. And I was alone.” You look over at your mom, she has tears in her eyes as she listens to you. “But then two men rushed in and grabbed me, helped me escape. Took me to a room and barricaded the door.”

“They didn't hurt you did they?” She whispers.

“No mom, they didn't. Dad started banging on the door.. they helped me move everything and open the door but the bad guy was there with him, they pushed him in.. the guy tried to.. r..” you pause. Your mom looks horrified. “He didn't. Wooyoung and San tackled him and then the guards came in.”

“That was extremely lucky that they were there for you.” She sighs. “I'm so sorry baby.”

“It's not your fault mom. You didn't know that was going to happen.” You say. “No one could have predicted that would happen.”

The rest of the way you drive home in silence. You really want to just go to bed. Luckily you didn't have to work today so you could do just that. As you walked in the house, your brother Jaehyun rushed to you, hugging you tightly. “I'm so glad you're okay.” He says, squeezes you even harder.

“I won't be if you squeeze me anymore, you're gonna suffocate me.” You half chuckle, half panic. He lets you go, patting your back before heading back to the living room.

“Do you want some lunch?” Your mom asks. You raise an eyebrow. You had assumed she would have had to go back to work.

“Don't you have to go back to work?” You ask. She looks at the ground.

“Uh, well.. Dave said if I left to go to you, I wouldn't have a job. It's not worth it if he won't let me go to my child who was in the middle of a prison riot. Don't worry, I'll find something else.” She smiles.

Fuck Dave. You went up to your room, crawled in your bed and quickly fell asleep. The day was exhausting and you were still shook a week later. It was the week after the riot, and you had been answering everyone's questions about what happened, what it was like the guys who saved you. It was the talk of the town still but you were tired of talking about it. You were ready to forget about it now, which is why you agreed so fast when your friend Hwasa asked you to go out that night. There was a newish club that was apparently very exclusive and the two of you wanted in. You got ready in a hurry, doing your makeup and your hair the best you could. You slipped on your favorite club dress as well as shoes and headed for the front door.

“I'm going out, bye!” You yell, slamming the door behind you. You run down the driveway heading to Hwasa's car.

The drive to the club is long. When you finally see it, you're mesmerized. It's bigger than you imagined, the bright sign outside reads Ateez. You were so excited. The line was extremely long, and as you walked up to the bouncer he shooed you to the back of the line. It seemed like you were never going to get in.

After about twenty minutes, you noticed a man staring at you that was walking the line, he walked past you, before backing up to look at you again.

“L/N Y/N?” He asks, eyeing you up and down.

“Yes?” You respond, staring at the handsome man.

“Come with me.” He says, motioning for you and Hwasa to follow him. You and Hwasa look at each other, she shrugs her shoulders, following the man and dragging you along behind. He stops at the bouncer, pointing to you. “L/N Y/N. Add her to the list. VIP.” He finishes, bringing you both inside. What the hell did you do to get this sort of treatment?

The two of you walk behind the man, following him really without any questions. You pass what looks like the main bar, the dance floor and head up some stairs. The rope is removed from the hook, letting the three of you into the VIP area.

“You can stay here if you'd like. Your drinks are all on the house, whatever you'd like. If you need anything, my name is Mingi, don't hesitate to ask.” He says.

“Um, I do have a question.” You say, slightly raising your hand. “How? Um, why? And um what?” You say.

Mingi chuckles. “You helped my brothers out, by not adding time to their sentences. They both could have gotten a lot more time after that riot. But they didn't, because of you. So from now on, if you are in trouble or need anything, you have 8 men who will happily help you out.” He says. “Well 6 for now, until San and Woo get out.”

“All I did was tell the truth.” You say.

“There's a lot of women out there who would have lied, knowing who those two are.” He says.

“Also, You're related to them?” You ask, ignoring what he said before. You were too busy trying to stop your mouth from hanging down.

“Well.. in a sense.” He laughs. “Enjoy your night.” He finishes before leaving the room.

“What the hell!” Hwasa shouts, heading over to your private bar. She orders multiple drinks and shots for each of you to be brought to your table. As you two sit there, listening to the music the DJ is playing, drinking and just having a good time you see five men walk into the room. They stop, staring at you. As they walk over they introduce themselves.

“Y/N.” One smiles. “I'm Seonghwa, this is Yeosang, Yunho, Jongho and Hongjoong.” He says pointing to each extremely handsome man.

“Nice to meet you.” You smile back, waving at them all while hiccuping in the process.

“Thank you for what you did for Woo and San.” Seonghwa says.

“Like I said to Mingi, I was just telling the truth. I didn't want them to get into trouble for saving me.” You explain.

“If you need anything, and I mean anything, don't hesitate to call.” He says, sliding you a piece of paper. Written down are 8 phone numbers for you. This was honestly fucking surreal. Who knew this could happen for simply telling the truth?

The men walk away and Hwasa stares at you in disbelief. “I almost wish it was me that day.” She laughs. “Let's go dance!” She says, trying to pull you up.

“Let me just tidy these glasses.” You slur, stacking all the cups and shot glasses to bring back to the bartender. He laughs as you place them on the bar, and thanks you through his chuckles.

You let Hwasa drag you down the stairs to the dance floor, immediately sliding her hands all over your body as you dance closely. The two of you always preferred to dance together, but sometimes if you were into it you'd dance with men. This time you were too into dancing with Hwasa, you didn't want any men to disturb you. You turned around, grinding your ass into her as you looked around the club. You glanced up at the balcony and saw six men leaning on the railing, all their eyes staring directly at you. Why did you feel like your life was going to get a lot more interesting?

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #hongjoong #san #wooyoung #yeosang #seonghwa #mingi #yunho #jongho #kpop fanfic #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

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liminsendhelp · 1 month

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Don't pet the flea cat

Price×f!reader

Tags: slight description of reader (chubby, muscular, strong, denying gender as a concept), possibly slightly sociopathic/autistic reader, profanity, denial of authority, evil scientist on the way to becoming. Johns pov included tags and warns are the same as in the last post, srry, I don't have time to make it more civilized and readable. THEY FINALLY TOUCHED LADIES!!! Enjoy

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

The whole day has been going wrong. Right from the start.

You met at five in the morning, as arranged for the days you dig through the database. He was waiting for you in his office, fresh looking, only a little more closed off. You thought to write it off on the early hour. But it certainly wasn't a physical consequence of sleep deprivation.

Emotions, damn it.

John was furious. You didn't say anything to him about it. The normally scowling expression never left your face, the emotionless, chaotically appearing teasing only twice caused him to smirk. But you wanted to shake him, ask him what you'd done wrong. Why he's like this. All the time before working out you could feel that tension. A dark, thick lump of promised fear.

Swallowing your breakfast in almost two bites, you didn't consider your surroundings much. There was something strange in the air. The way the huge room was quiet, full of those normally chatty people. Even Soap only chuckled quietly. Before you left to print out the allowed information, you casually switched to reality, aware of the proximity of the nearby warmth. Your and Price's thighs had been touching all along.

What on the computer had only been a couple dozen pages, images, copies, notes, was turning into an endless mountain of real paper that you were typing in two goes. To keep your head on your shoulders, rather than being ripped off by a secretary who (temporarily, you swear) had a busy printer, you brought a whole stack of paper. You talked, you played spy, getting more and more information out of the little gossip girl. You ate lunch at her place, never letting yourself take more food from her than you could fit in half your palm. She called you a bird and you laughed in agreement, drinking her instant coffee to notfeed your hunger. Not the first time.

As you made your way to your office in the main building that evening, you didn't look round. Moving carefully, only forwards, trying not to drop a pile of printed documents. One of the soldiers held the door for you. Then another one, then again, then another one, but offered help, which you declined. You clenched your jaws. Too many interactions. Fuck away!

Your back was in a terrible state from overexertion you wouldn't let anyone know about, your mood at its very point from lack of sleep and the constant uncomfortable existence with stupid people in the same space. But you still stared sullenly at the dumbest soldier while you held a pile of papers with one hand and opened the office with a magnetic key with the other.

Finally sinking down behind your chair, preparing for another round of proofreading, searching for correlations and missing elements, you let yourself exhale. And think. It was Price, wasn't it? Yesterday, when you told him about the soldiers' behaviour and he reacted so calmly, you gaslight yourself, doing someone else's job. They not even called you a slut in your face and they're animals and you're not special and nothing terrible happened only name calling... And it was expected, wasn't it?

But no, Price clearly went to deal with it. As much as you disliked the whole hierarchy thing, it was hard not to want punishment for those who branded everyone names for one possession of a vagina. You prayed to all the gods that your expectations weren't just a rethinking of the situation into a more palatable direction.

Finally everything was falling into a cycle. You worked with the files already printed out, pulling everything together in an encompassing way for the mind, concentrating on behavioural changes. You stopped by your secretary's office before lunch, giving your energies to small-talk and charming smiles. Your sleep patterns corrected, you smoked less because you didn't have the time anymore. Completely absorbed in your work, focused on your real goal, you didn't notice anything anymore. And a couple of times in a fortnight… Ghost helped with hints.

Ask that soldier, help that soldier, turn round there, yeah, just stand there.

Always managed to pick up a piece of information, form an understanding. The victim was always visible, no matter how well disguised. You made friends with a couple of girls and boys from different departments and backgrounds. Different temperaments, different humour and looks, but you felt that note of vulnerable distrust every time you pushed a little harder on your leadership.

. . .

She had a gaze. Fucked up one.

His first almost-wife had looked at him like that, during their first fight. And the last, to be precise. Pupils small, long angry lashes, always frowning. Ooh, stern.

When she brushed off his question about her name, he wasn't offended in the least. Something familiar about her… there was, no doubt. A piece of a familiar pattern. Potential for a good soldier, human, that was it. There was no criticism or problem in this closed cocoon from which she'd burst into the thick of it. Dry research, ready-made theory. That was why she was so confident in her audacity. John might have wanted to break her, just out of spite. He didn't usually do that, but here the kitten was attacking adult predators, and seriously hoping to win. Thinking she couldn't be seen, sneaking around in the grass with her little paws.

But in a couple of hours of interaction, John saw. Noticed scars here and there, patches of faded fur, and the sharp grin of a smile. She looked like something he'd caught. In training, she'd held up well. A mission, a fulfilment. A soldier with no command.

He could help. Help himself find a therapist.

Sighing once again for the evening, he adjusted his reading glasses. Whiskey in one hand, a small collection of short stories in the other. John read the one book he'd managed to "accidentally" grab from her desk.

Ray bradbury. Lots of circled passages, comments and jokes.

...You're the crowd that's always in the way, using up good air that a dying man's lungs are in need of, using up space he should be using to lie in, alone. Tramping on people to make sure they die, that's you...

In pencil frame and a little note, "should I call a lawyer?"

Other. With some pencil dots and lines on the pages, as if she wanted to but didn't dare leave any words out.

The scythe that gives power....

A family stuck between life and death because the father of the family didn't go to chop the ripe in the field....

A character who sleeplessly accepts his burden.....

...He didn't say good-by to his family. He turned with a slow-feeding anger, found the scythe and walked rapidly, then he began to trot, then he ran with long jolting strides into the field, raving, feeling the hunger in his arms...

The farmer in the field is too busy, even after all these years; too busy slashing and chopping the green wheat instead of the ripe...moves on with his scythe, with the light of blind suns and a look of white fire in his never-sleeping eyes, on and on and on...

He flipped back the page. Where there was only one word, exactly halfway down the circled lines.

...You worked the field all your life because you had to, and one day you came across your own life growin' there. You knew it was yours. You cut it. And you went home, put on your grave clothes, and your heart gave out and you died...

You?

John memorised the page number and put the book back in his desk drawer.

Fuck.

Why couldn't she read something nicer. A children's Bible? No, that was worse. More sins, more circled words. More similarities. And yet, he wanted to finish, wanted to reread everything that had ever graced her attention.

But only those living books that had been marked by her pencil and pen and word. To piece together this puzzle, frank and unmarred by a thick layer of wariness. To let it pass through him, to run his fingers over the traces scattered on the pages. To look in the mirror and see himself years ago. As if everything she'd accused herself of would find the same facet in him.

FUCK.

Angrily setting the empty whiskey glass aside, John walked out and down the stairs.

They'd grown closer over the past fortnight. As close as you could get with a set of human functions. She hadn't relaxed. Not for a second in his presence, not even in the presence of Ghost, who, surprisingly, had become a calming factor for her.

Something was happening. Some weightless bridge of communication. Invisible and solid.

Like when Ghost looked at her, shifted his gaze to someone else for a second and five minutes later she was there.

Like when she didn't turn up for training, showing drafts of already existing research to her Institute's committee. The discussions dragged on, she didn't show up for breakfast, and Ghost looked more sombre than usual.

Just like when she had appeared at lunch that afternoon, angry and barbed. "Those decrepit nerdy fucks have had me since six in the morning." She growls, and Ghost mutters something back about how quickly she's managed to outbite everyone. And the meat is clearly tastier than usual today. And Ghost knows now that scientists are much nicer than recruits. And she grins, just slightly, still wicked.

"You just haven't tasted the babies yet."

And Soap chokes on his tea, Gaz laughs, Ghost looks at her before letting out a deep chuckle. One ha. Not even a ha-ha, but it's something.

And John watches, observes. Marks the lines of communication and the nodes that form new offshoots

John wasn't jealous, there was nothing to be jealous of. Her attention was so entirely on him that she didn't have time to notice the water column diverging in front of her step by step.

It had been two weeks since John had the guys from the newbie group on the playground.

A day's training.

Just what the new recruits dreaded. Not a second of stopping, no food, limited water, total silence. The "24 hours" ended when the fighters started to fall. Sometimes the whole thing lasted for days.

In John's memory, the longest twenty-four hours was a week and a half when someone in his unit made a joke about raping the children of those Nazis who were fighting against them. He was a soldier then, green and unwanted by the leadership.

And the commanders were active and angry.

Steam was blown off on them until the rat came out himself, publicly shamed.

He was dismissed the same day, so that the soldiers did not have time to strangle him for a fortnight of suffering.

It was really horrible. But effective. None of them ever spoke again, even if they didn't want to.

Ghost had already organised something similar on the recruits last year, but they hadn't been smart enough.

John was happy to teach the soldiers to keep quiet. Reputation meant a lot to an organisation. Discipline wasn't just the ability to obey. And, no matter how much she said otherwise, John knew she would have wanted that kind of retribution.

She would find it fair.

The trainers change every three hours, the soldiers are the same. The spaciousness of the gym, the silence and the thick smell of sweat. Eighteen hours of slaughter meat.

The end of the "day."

But. Someone turned out to be more talkative than the others. As the columns of soldiers left the hall, the two idiots whispered something about an old man chasing a dirty cunt and were forced to stay for another two hours. One on one with John.

"You're going to fall and get out of here in a second." "You'll stop and we would start again."

He had no rest that night. After the individual lecture on what respect was, after the picture of tear-wet youthful faces begging forgiveness not from pain but from the realisation of their own failure, he couldn't shake off the rage completely. She had certainly sensed it from the morning, had been over-cautious in her rudeness. But she said nothing, and he began to breathe easier.

John lit a cigarette, there was no energy for cigars. The soldiers on night shift were still avoiding him, afraid of saying the wrong thing. Good for them. Opposite him, smoking dramatically in the shadows of the night, was the wall of the annex occupied by the scientists. The light in her window is on again. The way it had been for two months since her arrival, but had stopped after their meeting. And he thought he'd helped her sleep regime. As if to echo his thoughts, the light goes out, and five minutes later she appears. Sleepy, dark against her white dressing gown, glowing in the light of the night lanterns.

In the silence he can distinctly hear the desperate clicks of the lighter failing to give fire and a quiet "fucking hell" from her harsh mouth. He stands so that the light of the cigarette doesn't show from the shadows. Observes. Her stomping in one place is depressing. Such an open area, only a wall with one door behind, a long run to the corners, direct light. No cover. No hiding.

They were so close, John didn't need to calculate the trajectory he could take to blast her head off with his sniper. But he's unable to realise in time that he's spotted. The dusk makes it impossible to make out all the features of her face, but the swift way she was walking towards him spoke volumes. When John pulls out his lighter, flicking the wheel, emitting only a spark, not a flame, she snorts and slaps his arm. Why?

Her face is close, cigarettes touching at the tips as she holds their cigarettes in her hands to gently light her own. Her careful fingers close to his lips and he inhales the smell of ink and coffee with the smoke.

When her shoulder lightly touches his, her head rests on the hardness of the wall, and the smoke fills her lungs, John notices a certain insufficiency. Unmasked, even more open than usual. But quiet. So not trusting, just tired. That's what makes her stand so close. Obviously nothing more.

"I'm going to rest my head on your shoulder, and then you can pretend I didn't do it." "You're not afraid of groupies anymore?" Why say that? Why? Why? WHY?! Idiot.

She hums and takes a puff, releasing a thin stream of smoke into the night air. "Since you scared them all away?"

So they stand and smoke, sharing little warmth at the thin edges of contact. Her hand presses against his, John noting every muscle movement as she brings the cigarette to her lips and back again.

In the morning, as promised, he pretends nothing happened.

And the soldiers pretend they are numb, blind, and not watching their pair that night.

#tf 141 #john price #limin #price #captain price #captain john price #price x reader #john price x reader #price cod #cod price #captain johnathan price

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lo-shouldve-been-an-email · 2 months

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Okay,since I’ve just randomly randomly just reblogging Thanatos things,I decided to actually post things,more specifically an LO rewrite because f it.

At its core I do think LO is a good story,just that bad writing has squandered any potential it has to be good,so please have my take on this.(more specifically my take on Persephone,hades,and Thanatos because I have to stay on brand)

Anyways-

(The sequel)

Persephone:

She’s older.shes physically in her late 20’s/early 30’s and about seven to eight centuries older.

Her AoW only extended to those ransacking the garden.(I swear,it would have been so much more understandable to root for her if it only extended to 4-5 people instead of an ENTIRE CITY,since we know other gods have done much worse)

Her work in the underworld was mandated by Zeus as community service for the AoW.

This is more or less Zeus hitting two birds with one stone,he gets perse to make community service and maybe(hopefully) gets hades to open up to the smucks outside of the underworld because he now has an employee not from there.

Due to her guilt about the AoW,she decides that while she’s working in the underworld she’ll set out to be the best her she can be and make up for the souls she took.

At first nobody really likes her and they just think she’s someone who needed to be dragged here by Zeus and won’t amount to anything,but she ends up being the hardest working of the staff and getting a fairly infamous “employee of the month” streak,her only real fumble being Sisyphus(of which she rightfully corrected totally not being getting Hermes to drag his ass down back to the underworld and give his his infamous punishment,of which instantly gave her back any respect she lost.

She’s the type of person you think you can disrespect until she gets genuinely mad at someone,in which case everyone goes out of their way to be nice to her even though it takes a lot to get her mad.

Demeter never sheltered her,just that she heard from her mother and brother(oh yeah Plutus is in this au their twins) about the shit that happened up their(even saw it for herself a few times)and decided to nope out of that drama.

She likes the underworld a more than Olympus due to the fact people don’t get butthurt nearly as much,due to them needing to deal with crap from other gods and sometimes mortals(like Sisyphus)

Demeter was an amazing mama and nobody can convince me otherwise.

Plutus told her about the underworld so she does know a bit,but otherwise it’s a cultural shock.

She brings homemade baklava in every day of work.

She actually sent a letter to Demeter telling her about the community service…however she never got it thanks to a certain daughter of Nyx always dead set on causing discord.

Hades:

It took him two solid seconds to realize what Zeus’ plan was with Persephone so he initially looked for any reason to fire her,until he learned she was here for community service and just decided to wait out her punishment(jokes on him Zeus forgot to tell perse what her sentence was so she worked in the underworld for like a year until demeter found her when in reality she was supposed to be there for like two months)

He does eventually soften up to her(obviously) but it takes a while and a lot of baklava.

Honest to god I have no idea how to incorporate minthe in this au

Leuce is his dead wife,she died fairly recently so he’s still hesitant to connect with anyone.(“I miss my wife,Thanatos,I miss her a lot I’ll be back-“)

Recently he’s been coping via sinking into his work,Hecate and the others have taken notice but they don’t really know what to do.(their the ones that CAUSE death not deal with it)

He slowly started distancing himself from the rest of his family after the titanomachy and even more so after leuce died.

The only person he acts openly soft around is Thanatos,who he views as a son.

The only part of his extended family he interacts with is Hermes,who he actually has a really good relationship with(albeit still strained since leuce)

Fuck it.everyone has flowers symbolism.

Hades is white lilies(subject to change),perse is asphodels,thanatos(and Hypnos) is poppies,leuce is forget-me-nots,Demeter is daylilies,Plutus is orchids,Hecate is nightshades or cow parsley.

Thanatos:

He genuinely finds it hard to focus on doing his job,so people just call him lazy,so he doesn’t really try to set the bar high in return because he knows he’ll just end up disappointing everyone.

The only person who doesn’t have low expectations and wants him to try his best at his own rate is hades,who understands he finds it hard to focus but still wants him to try his best anyways.

Rotates between living with hades and Nyx(who is an extremely doting mother.

Hypnos still resides within the hr department and Thanatos helps him hide because the last thing he needs is a grumpy Hypnos.

He deals with peaceful deaths while Hermes and the keres deal with the rest.

He’s the type of person to tell himself one moment he’s gonna be really productive today and then spend the next fifteen minutes chatting away with a butterfly.

Also he can talk to butterflies.but nobody believes him except Hermes,perse,and Nyx.

The moment he finds out what Eris did she gets the “WHY WOULD YOU THINK THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?!?!!?” Of her life.then queue Thanatos and the other Nyx children present trying to get her to explain why she thought this was a good idea and her just saying “bc it’s funny”

Erebus = dad with no physical body who still interact with me via shadows.hades = dad with physical body who I want to impress but I don’t know how.

(If you didn’t catch on he has adhd)

#lore olympus thanatos #lore olympus critical #lo criticism #lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo #lore olympus #lore olympus persephone #lore olympus hades #lore olympus rewrite #leuce #Persie’s little punishment #lore olympus au #nyx

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rafecameronsmistress · 1 year

Text

Sunday Morning at Tanny Hill

[description] Rafe Cameron & fem reader

[summary] as Rafe Cameron’s girlfriend you aren’t sure wether to laugh or to cry.. to stay or run.. to be scared or to fall more in love..

[cw + tw] 18+ CONTENT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - smut, swearing, angry male character, angst, fear, fem character used s3xu@lly, oral m receiving, rough oral, g_uns used

[authors note] this is my first time writing and posting smut - inspiration came from Outer Banks Season 3 (buzz cut Rafe) - would love feedback and i am open to requests!

Enjoy!

—————

waking up to the sound of birds and a slice of daylight peeking in through the curtains. i check the time 8:04am. i groan, it’s too early. im alone in bed, rafe must have gone to take a shower or grab some food. i roll over on my stomach in hopes of catching more sleep.

i smile big as memories from last nights party pour in. beer, shots, dancing, a few hundred people swarmed tanny hill last night. defintley one for the books and summer has just started.

the cameron family has vacated tanny hill, all but rafe. he and i have been dating for about a year and now tanny hill is ours and only ours, a real dream come true.

just as i’m about to fall back asleep i hear a loud bang and glass shattering. “FUCK” rafe screams at the top of his lungs i immediately sit up with my heart in my throat. i hate to admit that i’m scared of my own boyfriend. i throw on his t shirt that was draped over a chair and tip toe across the room.

“rafe? you okay?” i say very softly as i peer outside of the master bedroom afraid of what i might see. he’s leaning over the railing with his head in his hands rubbing back and forth furiously. “baby?” i call out in hopes to get him out of whatever trance he’s in. he shoots a look my way, his eyes are dark and cold. my heart skips a beat. fight, flight, or freeze. i freeze.

rafe stands up tall and starts laughing and slamming his fist on the railing “you know what’s funny y/n, it’s funny how i do everything for my fucking dad and he gives everything to sarah and treats ME like a fucking child. DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING CHILD?” he yells practically spitting at me. this isn’t rhetorical, he seeks reassurance from me when he’s upset. “no baby, you’re not a child. you are an amazing man. sexy, smart, strong.. you’re rafe fucking cameron”

i wasn’t lying. even while terrified i can’t help but be turned on by him. he’s standing there shirtless and in his boxers, nothing else. he puts his hands on top of his head and turns toward me. his muscular arms flexed in all the right ways, his v line just peeking out of the top of his boxers, and the way the sun hits his abdomen through the giant windows.. god i fucking love this man. i can feel myself getting hot between the legs.

he throws his arms in the air “i dont know what to do anymore y/n i really don’t” he says while shaking his head, becoming increasingly more frustrated. “come lay down with me” i said as i hold my hand out praying he’ll take the bait. rafe let’s out a sigh, grabs my hand, and follows me back to bed. he sits down on the bed and i stand in front of him. he lays his head on my chest and i stroke the back of his neck lightly with my fingernails. it gives him goosebumps and he melts into my body. this continues in silence, i enjoy soothing him. his hands trail up the back of my thighs until they reach my bum and he squeezes before smacking my right side hard. he man handles both cheeks again then stands up. he towers over me. rafe is 6 foot 2 and i’m 5 foot. he’s now looking down at me and his eyes are filled with fire. rafe likes rough sex, rafe uses my body when he can’t process his emotions. i don’t mind, i just mentally prepare for what’s about to come.

he kisses my forehead “on your knees” he demands, i comply and drop down. “open your mouth” he seethes. i open as wide as i can and close my eyes preparing for his delicious erection to be shoved down my throat. instead i’m met with cold… hard… unfamiliarity… i open my eyes. rafe is holding his glock 19 in my mouth with no expression on his face. “do you love me?” he asks as he cocks his head to the side. i nod viciously, tears starting to form. confused as to what is going on but not wanting to upset him. i don’t budge, i don’t scream, i don’t take the gun from my mouth and run. “good, now show me how much you love me” he asserts as he replaces the pistol with his cock.

i take all of him into my throat and cradle his sack with my right hand, my left hand on the back of his thigh for support. the tears are flowing at this point out of fear and because i’m giving a blowjob like my life depends on it. i look up at him as i gag, his head is tilted back and his chest is rising and falling rapidly. his hand slithers onto the back of my head and he intertwines his fingers into my hair. he uses my head as leverage to get him off. “fuck” he grunts through gritted teeth “you’re such a good girl.” now both of his hands are on the back of my head as he thrusts himself deeper into my mouth. i drop my arms and allow him to use me. saliva, tears, and rafe cameron’s cum drip down the sides of my face and onto my chest. he slides his now satisfied dick out of my mouth and brings me to my feet lifting me by my chin. he wipes my bottom lip with his thumb and gives me a tap on the cheek. rafe pulls me into his chest hugging my head with his arms and places a kiss on the top of my head. “you always know what i need, thank you, i love you” he says with a deep breath. “i love you too baby” i reassure.

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tlouslut · 1 year

Text

TATTOOS

•You came to Jackson for some shelter and help, Ellie is immediately drawn to your tattoo sleeve•

WORDS: 1500

Part two

————————————————————————

These god damn woods were taunting you. You swear you passed that same rock half a mile ago. Frowning to yourself you decided to perch on top of the boulder that mocked you. You sipped from your canteen of water while scowling at the area around you, summer was almost upon Wyoming and the heat was nice against your skin in this early morning.

You were on the way to a town or city, you were unsure of what to call it, but it was called Jackson. You were on the run from an old group you used to survive with. They didn't take to people leaving very well, they've hunted deserters for sport across the country. The only reason you stayed for so long was because you knew how to tattoo, an ancient art from the old world. They were going to kill you for trespassing a few years back, but once they saw your tattoo sleeve they paused. Their leader offered you safety in return for your tattooing services.

Now you frowned at your left arm, you had inked it delicately over the course of months. Letting it heal and then adding more, it took time and tons of supplies. The sleeve was made up of plants and wildlife from where you spent most of your time alone in the woods and those things were your only company. But after deserting that group, you knew you couldn't be alone for a long while. They'd be coming after you, and when you spoke with deserters about tattooing over the symbol of the group they often spoke of Jackson. A town in Wyoming with people and electricity, and most importantly, freedom.

"Here we go. It can't be far." You sighed to yourself, hopping off the Boulder to continue your trek towards where you were hoping to find Jackson. Following highways to Wyoming and from there it was taking worn pathways and passing through ghost towns. You were walking for another couple miles, no sign of that boulder you realized with no small amount of relief. All that relief vanished when you heard a couple of horses, their hooves thudding gently against the forest floor. You immediately ducked into a bush with heavy foliage that would conceal you.

"Ellie let's go back." A woman whined. Not from the group you were running from. Very few women survived them.

"I want to find them, come on. You aren't even a little curious? Men covered in tattoos. They've gotta be from a town, maybe like Jackson." Another woman said cooly, Ellie you assumed. You peaked through the leaves to see two woman on top of beautiful horses. The women themselves weren't too bad themselves.

"They sound dangerous. Let's go ba-" The dark haired woman reasoned, she paused when she realized the woods were silent. Not a bird singing or a cricket chirping. Your heart thundering in your chest was the only sound you heard.

"There ya are!" You shrieked as you were dragged out of the bush. You were yanked off the ground by your neck, being forced to stare into the leader's eyes. His horrible mouth twisted into a wicked smile.

"Let go of me." You gasped out, clawing at his fist. You were screaming for those women from Jackson to save you, help you in any way.

"You know the rules sweetie. Pity though, you always were the favorite." Another man sneered from the woods, your vision began to go black as you stared up into the clear summer sky. Savoring the sun for the last time.

"Let go of her you fuckers!" Ellie yelled into the woods. Gun shots fired and blood splattered across your face. You collapsed onto the grass forest floor, drinking in the air like it was the finest wine. A soft warm hand pulled you to your feet, you looked up at the other woman. She was stunning with rich dark skin and ebony thick hair pulled back into a pony tail. You could only stare at her.

"We gotta go." She ushered, pulling you through the woods, leading you over tree trunks and down paths. You kept up quickly, thanking whoever out there was looking out for you.

"I don't fucking think so." One of the men shouted from behind you. You could hear his footsteps, heavy and fast. Your breathing was ragged as you ran. The woman leading you didn't slow down.

You registered the sound of a gun shot too late. It felt like fire being poured into your leg. You hit the ground as soon as the horses were almost in view. The dark haired woman twisted lurching for you.

"Get out of here! Dying for someone you don't know isn't worth it. Thank you, for showing me a last bit of kindness." Tears pricked at your eyes as you urged the woman to run away.

"What's your name?" She asked instead, she was so calm as she reached for you. Regardless of the man sprinting towards you.

"(YN). What's yours?" You asked, staring at the man as he aimed his weapon at you.

"I'm Dina, the other woman is Ellie. We are from Jackson." Dina said as she pulled her gun out and aimed it back at the man.

"You don't want to shoot me." He cooed at you, you tensed as he clicked the safety off.

"She doesn't, but I do." Ellie's sharp voice came from the tree above as she fired her gun. The man collapsed on the ground as blood began to seep into the dirt. "We gotta go." Ellie breathed.

"He shot her in the leg." Dina informed, panic creeping into her voice. Ellie glanced at you quickly taking in your leg as blood soaked your cargo pants.

"Leave me. I've heard about Jackson, you guys have women and children. Please." Your voice cracked on the word. Please. You wouldn't risk them and their freedom, even if it meant the men you were running would torture you, probably worse. Ellie shoved her gun into your hand.

"No, you need help. We're not leaving you here, not to be killed by those men." Ellie said determined. You only stared at her confused as she stooped down and scooped you into her arms. She and Dina secured you on the back of Ellie's mare, and they took off, all you could do was grit your teeth and hold on like hell.

The tall gates of Jackson were in view. Relief flooded you at the sight of those gates, the promise of safety they posed. You would offer up your very soul to make it inside those gates safely.

"Open the gates!" Dina and Ellie screamed. You turned to look behind you and saw horses in the distance. They would come right to Jackson's doorstep to take you, even with their leader being dead. You inhaled sharply as you twisted in the saddle aiming Ellie's pistol firing at the men. You could see one of the horses hit the ground and the gruff man on top it topple to the ground. The gates of Jackson were hauled open, and shoved shut the minute you were through. Ellie and Dina immediately jumped off their horses, Ellie had to pause to help you off. The group of people gathered around you and the two women. You couldn't think around the swelling panic in your chest and edges of your vision going black. Two men and a woman approached and the crowd parted for them.

"What happened out there? Who is she?" One of the men demanded, pointing at you.

"She's hurt, real bad." Was Ellie said before turning to look at you, just in time to catch you as you passed out.

Ellie's P.O.V

She was probably the most beautiful person I've ever seen. Even unconscious, battered, and paled from the blood loss. Her skin was slightly freckled from where she had been in the early summer sun on her way here, to Jackson. But the most striking thing about her, was her arm. Inked from shoulder to wrist with delicate and precise artwork. A tattoo. It was a miracle Dina and I were there to help her.

I was lounging in the chair beside her bed in our infirmary when Maria appeared in the doorframe. The blonde woman kept all emotion off of her face as she stared at me, her gaze flicking to (YN).

"She's not going to disappear you know." Maria drawled as she plopped into the chair next to mine.

"I know, I just. If it were me, I would want a familiar face, someone I could trust to be there when I woke up." I explained nervously. Maria sighed, concern flickering in her eyes.

"You trust her?" Maria asked bluntly.

"They were going to murder her, Dina and I couldn't just leave her to die." I stammered. Of course Maria wanted Jackson to remain safe, but (YN) wasn't the threat, those men out there with those tattoos were. A small noise escaped the woman, as if my thoughts of concern woke her.

"Ellie?" (YN) asked warily, I nodded to Maria as she left the room to get our doctor. (YN) winced as she sat up, concern flared in my chest.

"Hey, careful. You got shot in the leg, almost lost your kneecap." I informed her. Her (EC) orbs flickered with relief as she scanned my face.

"You saved me." She said quietly, almost in disbelief. Of course I saved her, I couldn't just leave her there. Those men would have wrecked her, that sort of pain is something i wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

"I did." Was all I said though, all I could managed honestly. The way she tilted her head to observe me made my heart stumble. (Gay panic lmao).

"Thank you. My name is (YN)." She gave a small smile, I returned it brightly.

"Well (YN), welcome to Jackson."

THERE WILL BE PART TWO

#tlou hbo #tlou2 #ellie x fem!reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #joel the last of us #tlou x reader

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threehuskiesinatrenchcoat · 1 year

Note

Hello there, it’s me again, meow. I know this is like the third anon message, but I had a thought and I wanted to your opinion on it.

How much Spanish do you think Graves knows? He’s southern, sure, but that’s not a real reason to know Spanish. Imo, he might know a few words and phrases from Spanish class or something, but not a lot.

You know what would be real cute? If Alejandro tried teaching him some. Just Graves trying his best and Alejandro honestly getting a bit frustrated with him, because "C‘mon mi amor, it’s not that hard to pronounce!" (but never actually mad bc my heart couldn’t take that rn).

Maybe Graves knows Spanish and is messing with Alejandro, maybe he really is hopeless at it and secretly tries to practice to surprise him with it.

Any thoughts? I hope you liked this bird as well! It’s super fun reading the responses to my little brain gremlins c:

hi again!! i enjoy your messages so much and it's super fun discussing ideas with you! im really giddy every time i get an ask and i see that it's you, i know to expect something good. i cherish every bird you bring here lol

god alejandro teaching graves spanish has so much potential :') the idea of alejandro, who gives me this restless irritable vibe, trying to be patient with him is incredibly funny and cute to me.

(alejandro, super tired of trying to teach him proper pronounciation and the meaning of this new phrase: (swears quietly)

graves: oh well i know what that one means)

and also him being so proud of his bf when he gets noticeably better :'

but i also had this idea for a long time that i wanted to share: what if graves like. knows spanish really well, his accent is just atrocious. so he doesn't speak much purely because it's usually a mess when he tries, but he understands it really well (just can't replicate the pronounciation). so people kinda assume that he doesn't know much of the language. and lower their guard because they think he doesn't understand. but he does and it's such a perfect opportunity to collect blackmail. i mean it could be a potential for some serious idea but i'm in a lighthearted mood rn so i imagine something like, people talking some juicy gossip fully confident that he doesn't understand them even though he's in range of their conversation, and he just quietly snickers to himself. and like maybe he tries to practice in the meantime, and one day alejandro talks to someone about him and he chimes in on the conversation just because he's a little shit. or like they go out somewhere and he just nonchalantly talks to someone in spanish and alejandro just stands there gaping like a fish, not sure what to even say lol. you've known spanish ALL THIS TIME and you didn't TELL ME i thought we were done with the betrayals!!!!

also i kinda think rudy would be in on it. like i feel like he absolutely would catch this little game in the early stages

(rudy: (asks graves something in spanish)

graves, busy and distracted: (answers in english)

graves:

rudy: BUSTED. THOUGHT NO ONE WOULD NOTICE HUH)

but he finds it funny so he just waits to see how long it would take for alejandro to notice. he could be the person graves practices with, too. i overall feel like they would strike up a friendship at some point, you know.

(alejandro would be dramatically devastated like even my best friend was in on it can't trust anyone anymore what a cruel world :''''''' )

#also side note but an interesting observation of mine #as a person who knows russian and english and is trying to learn spanish #the way i articulate words in russian somehow feels closer to the way you would in spanish #and it's completely different than with english-based accents #so i imagine learning proper spanish pronounciation and articulation with a southern accent being your default must be hard lmao #alegraves #alejandro vargas #phillip graves

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apocalypticavolition · 3 months

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Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 42: Falme

Spoiler alert: I hate the Seanchan. Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate them. Also I guess this post spoils the whole book series or something? You probably don't want to keep reading if that's going to bother you. If instead my hatred of the Seanchan bothers you, please immediately jump in a lake and stay there the rest of your life.

This chapter has a Seanchan helmet because we're in Seanchan territory. Have I mentioned lately that the Seanchan suck?

She could not imagine doing that to any woman, not even Moiraine or Liandrin. Well, maybe Liandrin, she admitted sourly.

Dramatic irony re: Moghedien getting leashed, though as Nynaeve's thought process shows it's a small step for her at this point.

That looked like Padan Fain, she thought incredulously. It couldn’t be. Not here.

Get used to running into randoms you last saw halfway across the continent, Nynaeve. It's going to happen A LOT.

Nynaeve had combed out her braid, and her gold ring, the serpent eating its own tail, now nestled under her dress beside Lan’s heavy ring on the leather cord around her neck.

Ah the symbolism. Nynaeve is hiding her agency from the oppressive Seanchan, pretending as she is in Emond's Field terms not to be an adult. And though she may not like the Aes Sedai, the tower and the power are close to her heart now - and everything is all tangled up with the relationship she wants but cannot have with Lan.

“No? How much money do we have left? You have been ‘not hungry’ very often at mealtimes the last few days.”

Elayne reminds us here that she's sheltered, not stupid.

“If I were being held prisoner, I would not help my captors find other women to enslave. Although, the way these Falmen behave, you would think they were lifelong servants of those who should be their enemies to the death.”

Of course sometimes the difference is a very thin line. Elayne really has no idea about the pressures the Falmen (especially the damane!) are under.

Still, two leashed creatures trotted along with the patrol, like wingless birds with coarse leather skin, and sharp beaks higher above the cobblestones than the helmeted heads of the soldier. Their long, sinewy legs looked as if they could run faster than any horse.

*I* think they're cute, but I'm insane. (And anyway it's not their fault they're Seanchan.)

...if we are caught, I swear that before they kill us, or do whatever they do, I will beg them on bended knees to let me stripe you from top to bottom with the stoutest switch I can find!

I like to think they'd let her.

Actually if you think about it Tuon and early book Nynaeve could get along quite well if you could just get Nynaeve over the slavery thing (you couldn't, but maybe in a Mirror World where she has an aneurysm that changes exactly one part of her personality).

She had thought, like Elayne, that the damane must all be prisoners eager to escape, but it had been the woman in the collar who raised the pry.

It's crazy what you can make people do when you torture all the hope and joy out of them. I don't even think the damane loyalty is the least bit unrealistic.

At first she had thought some of the Falmen submission, at least, must be a pose, but she had found no evidence of any resistance at all.

Anyone who tried is probably long dead or at best fled.

Monsters and Aes Sedai. How can you fight monsters and Aes Sedai?

Better figure it out quick, Nynaeve. That's the assignment for Tarmon Gaidon.

Nynaeve had heard many tales of women and girls being seized on the streets or brought in from the villages; they all went into those houses, and if they were seen again, they wore a collar.

If. I'm not sure what possibility is sadder, that they resist until they die from the punishments or that they've been tossed onto the boats as part of the return haul.

The trees were all but leafless, but the damane were still taken out for air, whether they wanted it or not.

Another way they're treated like dogs.

Damane were possessions.

God I hate the Seanchan so much.

Though I'm starting to hate my ebook reader's note function more. Virtually none of these have been in order and I'm having to copy paste like crazy.

Lighting a candle beyond the reach of her arm would have made Egwene vomit. Once Renna had ordered her to juggle her tiny balls of light with the bracelet lying on the table. Remembering still made her shudder.

And I'm sure Renna sees it all as a kindness, as a way of letting Egwene feel the horror of the a'dam in controlled conditions so that she learns her "limitations" instinctively. It would be terrible to Renna if she'd worked out an escape plan that involved her channeling without realizing what the consequences were; she could hurt herself and then the Seanchan might have one less victim!

Her knife was still in its sheath at her waist, though. Egwene had been surprised when Min first showed up wearing it, but it seemed the Seanchan trusted everyone. Until they broke a rule.

An effective bit of fascism that, since complete restriction of everything would result in more rebellions (nothing to lose) and also make it impossible to get anything done (so many people needing knives for non-violent purposes that the Seanchan approve of).

‘Everyone has a place in the Pattern,’ ” she mimicked, “ ‘and the place of everyone must be readily apparent.’

Meanwhile, a young shepherd is taking his first steps towards becoming king of the world.

Overly stratified societies have so many issues. You can just tell that Seanchan must be much more repressive than the subcontinent on so many topics.

“I don’t think there will be any going back for me ever,” Egwene said, sighing, sinking down on her bed.

Poor Egwene. She's so strong and even she can barely hold up under this hell.

Earth is one of the Five Powers that was strongest in men. When I picked out those rocks, she took me outside the town, and I was able to point right to an abandoned iron mine. It was all overgrown, and there wasn’t any opening to be seen at all, but once I knew how, I could feel the iron ore still in the ground.

This is about the only time we don't see Egwene happy to be exceptional, even. That's how much they've hurt her.

“They can’t even help themselves, Min. I only talked to one—her name is Ryma; the sul’dam don’t call her that, but that’s her name; she wanted to make sure I knew it—and she told me there is another. She told me in between bouts of tears. She’s Aes Sedai, and she was crying, Min! She has a collar on her neck, they make her answer to Pura, and she can’t do anything more about it than I can. They captured her when Falme fell. She was crying because she’s beginning to stop fighting against it, because she cannot take being punished anymore. She was crying because she wants to take her own life, and she cannot even do that without permission. Light, I know how she feels!”

It is absolutely exceptional that they even drove an Aes Sedai to tears. She passed the same Accepted and shawl tests as all the other Aes Sedai and as brutally hellish and over the top as they are, they do produce strong and dedicated women. And in four months they Seanchan have all but broken her completely.

“Damane are not allowed to touch a weapon of any kind.”

One wonders if Deira came up with this herself, or if it was added later as the a'dam design was refined. If it was added later, it suggests that either the damane brainwashing, powerful as it is, can't be trusted to fully overrule the suicidal despair these women must be left with OR that the Seanchan are so pointlessly cruel that even though they have nothing to lose they still must dehumanize their victims.

“Her name is Ryma. I have to remember her name, not the name they’ve put on her. She is Ryma, and she’s Yellow Ajah, and she has fought them as long and as hard as she could.

In a way this gives Egwene a parallel with Rand's future behavior, in that he too has names he must remember, but Egwene's reasoning is of course way more healthy and actually a kindness to an unfortunate soul to boot.

“Maybe they’re going to conquer the whole world, Min. If they conquer the world, there’s no reason Rand and Galad and the rest could not end up in Seanchan.”

Depressing that Egwene sees a way for Min's visions to plausibly come true without her safety.

“I am being practical,” Egwene said sharply. “I don’t intend to stop fighting, not as long as I can breathe, but I don’t see any hope that I’ll ever have the a’dam off me, either. Just as I don’t see any hope that anyone is going to stop the Seanchan. Min, if this ship captain will take you, go with him. At least then one of us will be free.”

And here of course she's quite right not to put her faith in what she can't count on and to keep fighting anyway, but damn it's sad she's in this position.

“I must punish you severely for this. We will both be called to the Court of the Nine Moons—you for what you can do; I as your sul’dam and trainer—and I will not allow you to disgrace me in the eyes of the Empress. I will stop when you tell me how much you love being damane and how obedient you will be after this. And, Tuli. Make me believe every word.”

Again we see how the Seanchan enforces its madness by ensuring that every level of its hierarchy is under threat of terrible violence, and we also see how it's probably inadvertently stumbled into another method of enforcing its ideology: if you repeat the same lie to yourself over and over, sooner or later you will start believing it. For as much effort as Egwene is going to have to put into convincing Renna, the real danger is how much progress she'll make convincing herself to try and make sense of the horrible circumstances she's in.

Let's give it a try! I'll post my notes on chapter 43 tomorrow. I'll post my notes on chapter 43 tomorrow. I'll post my notes on chapter 43 tomorrow. I'll post my notes on chapter 43 tomorrow. I'll post my notes on chapter 43 tomorrow. I'll post my notes on chapter 43 tomorrow. I'll post my notes on chapter 43 tomorrow. I'll post my notes on chapter 43 tomorrow. I'll post my notes on chapter 43 tomorrow. I'll post my notes on chapter 43 tomorrow. I'll post my notes on chapter 43 tomorrow. I'll post my notes on chapter 43 tomorrow.

Not sure it's working, but I am copy-pasting. In any event: next time - Bayle Domon meets Nynaeve!

#let's read #wheel of time #wot #robert jordan #wheel of time spoilers #wot spoilers #nynaeve al'meara #elayne trakand #padan fain #egwene al'vere #min farshaw #renna emain

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puella-peanut · 8 months

Note

any ideas for a silverusso involving super hot crackerjack!terry and precious baby daniel/teddy from cuba and his teddy bear?

Terry Silver’s an undercover narcotics officer with a taste for cocaine on the sly. But when he catches wind of several rogue drug deals that a low life, illiterate drug dealer has run too close to his neighborhood of choice—he sets out to investigate.

But one day early into the hunt, on the fire escape of a crumbling brownstone on the Lower East Side—instead of an uneducated man with a penchant for a hustle, Terry runs into a child. A teenager, really. And the sweetest boy he’s ever seen. All shaggy, dark hair, matching eyes. Plump lips. But there's an ugly bruise on his thin cheek. The remains of a scar puckered on his forehead.

He’s not much more than sixteen.

He’s terrified.

Their eyes meet for just a moment, across soot and stairs. Curiosity and fear. Before and after.

Not even a second later, the boy tries to make a run for it, his sneakers slamming into a dirty puddle at the start of what could have been a sprint—except that Terry’s too fast for him. Too tall, too strong. Too ready.

Too much.

He reaches, turning as he does so the kid slams against the alleyway wall. Crying out pitifully as his narrow back crashes into dirty brick, and shaking so hard that Terry simply holds him there like that, against the graffiti swear words scrawled high as if to challenge god. Moments pass, rats scuttling between them towards the overflowing garbage nearby. The boy is reduced to shivers, then to the occasional twitch. On the street, grimy, shifty-eyed people walk by either unaware, or unconcerned. In Terry’s arms, the kid eventually manages to hold himself very still, face deathly white. As if willing himself to vanish. Curl up into the air and take to the sky like the foul smoke from neighboring factories. Or a bird.

Terry’s grasp on him tightens.

He feels the bone shift and flesh stir, and the boy comes alive again; cheeks flushing red, a whimper that shouldn't be pretty but is, spilling from his slender throat. Terry presses into him at that, inhaling the scent of fresh cigarette smoke and something more foul, desperate—and then his hand sharply rolls up an arm of the kid’s jean-jacket. The faded sleeve of the old red sweatshirt under. He holds up a scrawny arm to the scrutiny of his eyes, to the judgement of a cold winter sun. The boy’s pretty face crumples like paper.

Track marks. Scratches. A scar from the jagged edge of a switchblade.

Bruises so dark they’re almost black.

Terry breaths out, slowly. Breath fogging into unspoken ghosts between them.

Heroin, of course. Child abuse a given. The boy’s too slight and timid for brawling, though. Bullying? Easy target, this one. But underage sex work? Child prostitution? For fuck’s sake. Surely…

Terry studies him again. The long lashes. The delicate line of his clavicle. The fragile, breakable beauty of him.

A looker.

And on these streets—a victim.

“Name, kid?” Terry asks finally.

“I…I wasn’t doing nothin’, I promise, Officer, I, I’m just—“

“Name. Now.”

The boy swallows. Sniffles. A tear runs down the side of his nose. There's salt in the air, cold sweat on skin. Pain.

“D…Daniel. Sir," he whispers.

That’s all it takes.

...

...But what starts off as just a run of the mill drug bust very quickly turns into something more. Terry says he won't get involved, he can’t. Shouldn’t. Just catch the dealer, get the kid off the streets. Foster care, GED. A child psychologist. End this shit, let him go. Go back to black coffee and blacker toast. His daily white line of cocaine. Out of tune pianos and the creaky kneelers of Saint Patrick's down on Coogan. Return to his lonely apartment after hunting down criminals past midnight on the mean streets, just to wake up at five come next morning to do it all again.

But he can't forget the trembling body he should never have touched. That sweet voice that sang for him so prettily when he carved the boy into his bed. The warm, slender hands tangled in his hair. Those pleading doe-eyes—pleading for what? Drugs? Protection? A lingering hold? Terry himself?

Terry knows he shouldn’t.

He should keep away from this boy. He’s better than this, isn’t he? He only slipped that one time. Twice, goddamnit. He couldn’t help himself. One look into those fathomless eyes, one taste of that sweet mouth—and he falls. Away from his better judgement, right into Daniel’s welcoming body. Doing exactly to the boy what he said he was going to save him from. After a while, he can’t even bring himself to let it bother him. If it ever truly bothered him in the first place.

Terry knows that broken boy in his arms, in his bed—is his. And if he’s got to break him more to keep him that way—so be it, then.

So be it.

#silverusso #terry silver #daniel larusso #cuba and his teddy bear #in which i chase paper cuts #sweep the leg

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missathlete31 · 1 year

Text

Dead on Your Feet- Chapter 1

Masterlist Here

An AU in which Hangman is team leader and takes the missile to save Rooster. As he struggles to get himself and his teammate home, Jake is pushed to his limits in more ways than even he anticipated.

I did post this before but that was before I learned how to add gifs and edit so I'm re-posting and all the chapters this time! Enjoy!

It's surprisingly easy to undo 30 years of self-preservation. 30 years of pushing people away, keeping them at arm's length. 'The only person you can count on in life is yourself', a lesson Jake learned from his parents as they hurled insults and belts and anything else they could at him growing up. The nasty words bit as sharp as the bruises. The loneliness and despair were the most painful of all and yet they become his closest companions in life.

Jake spent the past 10 years pretending to be a one dimensional cocky asshole instead of any semblance of a decent human being. He always thought it was only to spare the others from himself. From the broken, feeble, good for nothing piece of shit that his parents liked to call him on their more generous days.

It's still true but now he starting to think it was also to spare himself the heartbreak of losing people close to him. Of having someone else in the world that is supposed to care for him choosing to hurt him instead. The pain from trusting someone else and having them leave him hanging.

Maybe his call-sign is fitting after all. Irony is funny like that.

He's called back to Top Gun for a mission that he'd be lucky to be chosen for and even luckier to survive. He sees faces he's burned in the past and he fights the urge to apologize to them. Instead he makes them hate him more. It's not hard to do, they all embrace the next battle willingly.

"Hangman, the only place you'll lead anyone is an early grave"

It's true isn't it? Rooster's words might have stung but they weren't unfounded. His father told him best, he's too weak to be anything of importance. Too broken to do anything but sink and pull others down with him. An early grave was always what he thought he would get, be it by his father's hands, an enemy's missile or just his own stupid recklessness. But it's only supposed to be an early grave for him, not anyone else. He couldn't bear anyone else dying for him.

The training for this mission tests him more than he's ever been tested in his life. He battles with Captain Mitchell, with Rooster, with the rest of the team and most importantly with himself. He's forced to listen as the only person he lets over his walls almost dies in G-Loc. He sees the aftermath of Phoenix and Bob ejecting from a bird strike. He stands at attention as Maverick calls his name, calls him team leader, and watches as the others can't stop the disdain from showing on their faces from Maverick's decision.

They think he'll leave them. He can't blame them. Doesn't stop it from hurting worse than his father's fist in his gut or his mother's sharp words.

"I swear to God Hangman", Phoenix begins as they both find each other in the early morning hours before the mission, sleep an impossibility from the thoughts circling in their heads, "if you even think about leaving us behind like you did in training..."

He only nodded at her out there, the wind whipping them both as they listened to the waves in the darkness. He knew then, like he knows now, that his words hold no merit on the tarmac or the deck of a carrier, they only hold purchase in the air.

So he shows it there.

Jake flies the mission at the speed he knows how but he makes sure Natasha stays on his tail instead of eating his dust. He gives her vectors and observations, warns her of the low bridge coming up and when to start to go inverted. He takes lead like he is supposed to, not pushing too hard but not letting off the gas either. Their team swoops down into the valley and Bob's laser gets a lock. Jake lets loose a missile and it's a perfect hit. One miracle down.

"You're the one choice I had the hardest time making" Maverick tells him the morning of the mission, after Jake gives up his feeble attempt at trying to put anything into his stomach. "It's not about your skill level, that was never the issue." His captain refuses to turn away, gives him the respect that he's not quite sure he's earned of looking him in the eye. "I know you're not the guy you portray yourself to be" Maverick tells him. “Well not entirely that guy", his captain concedes, the tiniest smile edging on his lips. Maverick takes a step closer and then a paternal hand finds Jake’s shoulder and he doesn't know if he should shake it off or start to cry. He chooses neither as Maverick keeps speaking, "you need to trust them if they are ever going to trust you. The only way everyone gets home is if you work together as a team. I know deep down in here," he hits Jake's chest, right over his heart, "that's what you want as well. Show them, show me, make me proud son."

Jake spent his entire life wishing for even a fraction of that encouragement from his own parents. To get it from Maverick so willingly, so easily, tells Jake that he cannot let his Captain down. He will make him proud if it's the last thing he does.

So he supports Rooster over the radio when the other pilot starts to freeze up instead of yelling at him. He keeps the team in some kind of formation instead of panic when the surface to arm missiles start flying and it's chaos in the sky. It would be so easy for Jake to use the speed he is accustomed to, to get himself back to the carrier first and leave the others to follow him if they have the skill to keep up. He doesn't even entertain the thought though. Jake stays in the fight, he stays with his team and he listens, he calls out positions and he watches. Until he forced to act.

"Don't leave us hanging out there"

It's Bradshaw's only response when he tells him to give 'em hell on the tarmac.

Those are the last words Jake hears before they launch. They are the words stuck on repeat in his mind as he flies the course and they are the only words Jake remembers when he hears Rooster yell that he is out of flares. Jake thinks of nothing else as he swoops his jet in quickly, turning vertical to shield Rooster as much as he can, letting his own flares go. His plan works, Rooster is able to get out of there and the first round of missiles explode in the air.

Unfortunately his plan didn't go beyond that. It didn't take into account that he would be exposed, basically belly up in enemy airspace and it certainly didn't account for the second round of missiles finding him so quickly. Those missiles hit his unprotected jet easily, sending him into a mammoth of a fireball and screeching towards the ground.

The others are yelling all at once. He can't make out much of it beyond his name and the pleas to eject. By the time he gets his bearings enough to try to pull the cord, nothing is working and he's too low to the ground anyway. He can try to take the plane down himself, muscle to a some kind of controlled landing but he's basically holding a dead stick. Jake hears a few more pleas on the radio, can make out Captain Mitchell screaming at command to let him launch in support but he slowly tunes it out as he watches his plane fall from the sky.

He hopes the others head back to the carrier, head back home.

He hopes Coyote forgives him for this, for leaving him when he promised he wouldn't. Jake never deserved a friend like Javy, who took all his pushing and just held on tighter. He hopes leaving Coyote everything he has in his name shows the other man how much he meant to him. How he was the only person he had.

He hopes the Navy doesn't call his parents, or if they do, that his parent's don't weirdly insist that he be buried in Texas. He always hoped he would be by an ocean, somewhere calm and peaceful. He doesn't expect visitors but he hopes he will be surrounded by people who do get them, if only to siphon off some of their love.

He hopes he made Captain Mitchell proud.

The last thing he sees before his plane crashes into the snow is a bird low in the sky. It makes him think of Rooster oddly enough and if it's strange that his last moments on earth are spent thinking of that porn-stached, hideous Hawaiian shirt wearing pilot, Jake doesn't dwell on it. All he hopes is that Rooster forgives Maverick for whatever history they have between them. Jake knows it goes beyond what he un-tactfully brought up in class that day. He hopes he gives the two of them the time to fix it.

If he did then he could never regret it.

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sadnightforus · 3 months

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THE FATED STARS (PJS) | SMAU

015 - SORRY (BUT I'LL DO IT AGAIN)

Park Jongseong harbors the biggest crush on one of the most popular girls on the campus, you. You, being dared by your friend group to tweet and made a boyfriend application, initially started out as a joke, thinking that no one would applied it. Upon the tweet going viral and many applications being sent in, he decided that he would shoot his shot, even if he doesn’t know a single shit about what is the sun, moon, rising in astronomy.

WARNINGS: burned food, jay being silly

A/N: zero smau i'm sorry omfg

TAGLIST: @hoondiors @ariadores @who-tf-soddhi @erehkinnie30

PREVIOUS. | BACK TO MASTERLIST. | NEXT.

WRITTEN STORY DOWN BELOW!

WORD COUNT: 2113

When you woke up this morning, you heard the birds chirping outside. You thought that it was gonna be a good day.

You weren’t too far off, but what exactly is your definition of a good day?

Well, to start it off, your roommate, Yeji, has made a meal for you. An actual meal for breakfast without burning the food or making it indigestible. Truly a blessed day that you don’t have to run out to the convenience store to eat a decent meal or either spend a penny to eat something that doesn’t taste like charcoal exploding in your mouth.

Second, you managed to catch a bus without rushing like most days. And your bluetooth earphones were fully charged which allows you to listen to Bladee and Mariah Carey as much as you want to without doing a mental calculation to see how much time you have left until your earphone runs out of power and shuts itself down.

You love life. You really do.

Third, you finally came 15 minutes earlier to your university without a sweat or feeling like you ran from a storm of humidity. It’s a good thing that you choose not to do heavier makeup like most days because otherwise, you think it’ll cake up half way into the lessons and you don’t want to run to the restroom to powder it up.

List of good things that happened today.

Your legs are working their ways there to the hall and you enjoy whatever that is playing in your earphone (You’re deeply embarrassed to say it’s Talk To Me Nice by Bladee). You only wear one side of the ear piece so you can also pay attention to the surroundings. You think it’s actually quite the downside of having an earphone that isn’t an airpod, but you don’t want to spend your money on an unreasonable pricey stuff just to hear people talk while you’re still wearing that piece when you can just easily remove it and it’ll give the same effect too.

Someone bolts really fast, runs like his life depends on it and you swear you could see the sweat trickling down his face. You smell a familiar scent and you look up to see if you’re right about the man who suddenly runs into you like a bull like this. He then stops in his tracks right in front of you, which startles a reaction out of you as you almost lose your balance with how he pants. And yes, you were right, it’s Jay.

What does he want to tell you this early in the morning? For god’s sake, it’s like almost 8 am.

You don’t expect that you’ll meet him first thing in the morning (aside from your roommate Yeji who has become a face you accustomed to see), nor do you expect to run into him being all sweaty and looks like he’s on a self-inflicting punishment for his crimes.

“Ha- ha- hey! Y/N!” He pants. “I- I’m sorry for calling you baby! It’s okay if you don’t want t-to keep seeing me anymore! I know I overstep my boundaries and act as if we’re dating and if you don’t want to talk to me after this, I understand!”

He panics, the little eyes being widened and the anxious gesture, he’s like an open book even if he seemingly always keeps his cool most of the time. You’re confused by his rambling of apologies, what- He apologizes for calling you baby before you guys are a thing?

No guy has ever apologized for calling you baby before dating. And you remember dreading when you tell your friends about the horror stories of guys that just made you cringe to their every dialogue that escaped from their mouths.

You don’t want to admit this one thing so early to yourself but maybe.. maybe your friends are right.

But you still need to make sure that he’s into you just as much as you’re willing to let yourself be into him too.

“Jay, it’s okay, really.” You say with a smile tugging between your lips. “I’ll let it slide because…” you stop in your trance when you realize that you were about to say that you like how he calls you baby.

“Because… I want to keep seeing you.”

Good excuse right there, is what you think to yourself. You want to keep being a tsundere just a tad bit longer to see how much he is willing to keep up with your shenanigans.

God, this sentence nearly made him lose all of his composure. And could probably melt a man who has even the slightest attraction to the opposite sex.

“Really?” He asks with a beaming glint in his gaze that holds so much hopefulness inside. And you finally realize something– you’ve never seen so much love radiating from someone’s eyes.

You choose to only shyly nod as a response and he deems it as a good enough of an answer. Truthfully, you want to see how long it will be until you finally start admitting that you perhaps, feel something for him too.

“It’s nearly time for my first lecture, I don’t really want to be late. And you should get going too. I guess I’ll see you soon?” You make an excuse to get out of there once you start feeling like your heart goes crazy with the way he looks at you like his only one.

“Oh- yeah. I’ll see you around! Have a good day!” He stutters, in a daze as he watches you make a run for it before you completely disappear out of his sight.

The hall feels empty now and it allows him to sigh. He forces himself to go to his next lecture with thoughts flying around his head on what he should do next to be someone to you.

“Why do you look like that?” Heeseung questions, observing how Jay’s brows are knitted tightly together.

They’re now in the apartment of Jay, three men are busying themselves in the kitchen as the place owner himself is cooking up some food as a promise to feed his friends if they don’t bother him when he was trying to apologize to you. The other 4 are playing video games in the living room, which is approximately just a whole 5 seconds walk from the place that creates the best kind of food (dearly presented by Park Jongseong, as Jake likes to say).

“Like what?” Jay mumbles, not sparing his friends a glance with the way his focus is entirely on the food.

“Like Y/N turned him down or something.” Sunghoon responds, before wincing in pain as Heeseung slaps his bicep. Jay’s face now contorts into an uncomfortable look, a look that screams that he is dejected and defeated by the weight of the world and that the light of hope has disappeared from his life.

“OH MY GOD?!” Sunghoon yells out, which catches the attention of the gamers from 5 feet over.

“WHAT HAPPENED?” Jake yells, asking, as his eyes are glued to the screen.

“Y/N REJECTED HIM!”

“NO WAYYYYY!!!” Sunoo and Jungwon say it together at the same time and they all stand up to run to the kitchen to see the heartbroken man.

“I thought she liked you, no?” Riki asks, eyes overflowing with love as he looks at Jay’s cooking. He’s leaning against the counter, trying to pretend he cares but he really doesn’t.

“She didn’t even reject me, but something worse.” He looks visibly down and the youngest kid of the group doesn’t have it in him to tease the elder today. They wait for him to say something as he continues.

“She said she doesn’t mind when I call her baby because she wants to keep seeing me then she just bolted to her lecture, is that a girl code of saying if I fuck up one more time, she’s gonna disappear from my life?”

They all can blankly stare with the ‘Are you kidding me’ expression written on their faces. Especially Sunghoon who is the most displeased person out of this whole conversation.

“Okay- WHAT????” Jake yells out, clearly shocked by the statement that leaves his friend’s mouth.

“I think you’re overthinking it.” Heeseung comments before going back to chew on the baked cookies (Jay honestly forgot he has snacks until Heeseung randomly was able to find where he hid those).

“I think she’s gaslighting you.” Sunoo opens his mouth to give Jay constant paranoia (as a hobby) and it seems to work as his shoulders that were once dropped start to tense up.

“Oh shut up, Kim Seonwoo.” Jungwon retorts, taking pity on the older friend of theirs. He then goes back to bickering with Heeseung about the cookies, something about the older who needs to stop being greedy and give his share of those baked goods afterwards and Jay’s attention is not on their bickering but he almost let his friends’ words get into his head.

“Haven’t you guys been texting enough time to see whether she likes you for real?” Riki raises a question and he earns a thumbs up with ‘You’re right’s from the group. He then reaches over to open the fridge to see if his hyung stores anything that he wants to eat (and much to his disappointment, it’s only groceries instead of something cool like ice cream and milk).

“I just don’t want to start off on the wrong foot, like I shot my shot through Twitter dms and I’m so positive she knows that I’m so in love with her that it’s kinda weird from her perspective.” Jay sighs, feeling beaten down. He almost gives up on trying to have you when his friends keep throwing the ‘you’re a creep’ comments on a daily basis.

“Wow, you’re really self aware.” Heeseung deadpans. Sunghoon leans in closer to face Jake as he says ‘open your mouth, ahh’ as he feeds him the fries that Jay made earlier.

“…Please don’t do this to me right now.” Jay says, deadpans and anxious.

Why does liking someone require so much mental work?

“You should be thanking the entities in heaven that she still talks to you after that whole ee-dé-rial compliment. I’m personally really embarrassed for you and I wasn’t even there.” Heeseung says, taking another bite of the cookie while Jungwon is on a strike to steal the last 2 cookies before his hyung can get them. Riki now joins Sunoo, Sunghoon and Jake to eat fries while they mumble a ‘hmmm, delicious’ to rub that in his face even more.

“I think smartphones are the worst invention that Steve Jobs could’ve made.” Jay groans, eyes focusing on the way the food is overflowing its smell to the 6 people who are cramped up in his penthouse (a name deprived from Jungwon).

“Actually, it’s Frank Canova. A little google search would’ve told you that.” Jake responds.

“Shut up, physics nerd.” Sunghoon scoffs, choosing to not feed Jake and get the last bite of the fries himself.

Jay prepares the dishes for his little family (he likes to play house and pretend it so) and he takes off the apron that has been staying on the entire time he was cooking up something extraordinary as a celebration for his friends to not fucking up his chances with his crush.

The chaos quiets down as Jungwon voluntarily dropped his one sided beef with his hyung over cookies to devour the big meal that Jay prepares. At that moment, there was no sound coming out of their mouth except a little chewing and little laughter. While everybody keeps complimenting his cooking, his stomach almost churns with acid because of the unnecessary overthinking from his interaction with you earlier.

“You just have to try harder to win her over.” Is what Heeseung says before he goes right back to go to the food war with 6 other people.

“Yeah.” Sunoo agrees. “She already gave you the greenlight. Just don’t be stupid, that’s all.”

“As long as you can prove to her you’re not an obsessive weirdo, you definitely have a shot. I’d date you in a heartbeat if I was a girl.” Sunghoon responds and Jake goes straight to ask “What stops you from doing that?” to which Sunghoon answers with “I just like girls.” with the most serious expression he can muster at the moment.

“Wow, thanks guys for that advice.” He says, monotones dripping from his voice.

“Um, by the way. Can I ask you something?” Heeseung asks, eyes penetrating straight into his as he scoots closer to the chef, ignoring the other presenting 5 people.

“Sure.” He nods.

“If you could go back in time, would you call her baby again?”

“Yeah. I’ll do it all again.”

Then he smiles to himself as Heeseung quirk one of his eyebrows and slowly turns away from him.

Maybe it’s not that bad at all, he just has to keep pushing and be himself.

At least, that’s what the guys are hinting at.

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