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#jagged edge production
mceproductions · 6 months
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Worst of 2023 Movies #1: Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey
One of the things I did mention this year was that both TV and music had 2 very easy choices when it came to the worst of the year.
Movies on the other hand, that’s where you have to dig.
And luckily for us, a Disney icon this past year suddenly became not exclusive to Disney.
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AA Milnes iconic Winnie the Pooh has had the red shirt and Hunny love for a long time.
But now that he’s no longer tied into the silly old bear lifestyle any method can be used.
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Hence here we get him and Piglet going feral after being abandoned by a maturing Christopher Robin.
When he returns with his wife he’s quickly captured and forced to watch his former friends figuratively rip his heart out.
Only the focus would become standard slasher fair with a switch to 5 college students renting a cabin nearby the 100 acre wood and becoming fodder.
If not tied to the iconic figure, this would have been an interesting premise.
But public domain or not there are certain aspects you just don’t mess with. Pooh is one of them.
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Now that we have more pd character movies on the way, the new Bambi from the same studio looks like the same boat.
Only keep a certain person away from it.
SUM 22: The Public Domain claims an icon that gets warped into something that shouldn’t have manifested. The Silly Old Bear doesn’t belong here.
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itsamepatches · 1 year
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Owl, Rabbit, Eeyore, Piglet, and Pooh from the Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey story, "Unusual Creatures" under unfortunate circumstances
(Narration underneath the "keep reading"/"read more" because of mentioned cannibalism)
"One fateful night and on the brink of starvation, Pooh decided that in order to survive, the group must consume one of their dearest friends.
And thus, Eeyore was no more.
And the trauma of this act walked the minds of the group. They became feral and developed a hatred to All Things human, and in particular, Christopher Robin, for abandoning them. A pact was made. They renounced their humanity and returned to their animalistic Roots, swearing never to talk again."
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demifiendrsa · 2 years
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Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey - Official Trailer
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Synopsis
It follows Pooh and Piglet as they go on a rampage after Christopher Robin abandons them for college. Without the influence of their human friend, the two turn feral, seeking prey and stalking the humans near their homes.
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Jagged Edge - I Gotta Be  Jagged Edge - "I Gotta Be"  https://youtu.be/XAa4kZ8Gnt4?si=0oWpj6JDbMQHO7y_ via @YouTube Produced By Jermaine Dupri for So So Def Productions.
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gbhbl · 3 months
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Horror Movie Review: H.P. Lovecraft's Monster Portal (2022)
H.P. Lovecraft’s Monster Portal isn’t an adaption, rather it’s a story that uses elements of the man’s work. Hence why it can be found under several different names, with the most common being The Offering. Something that is never a good sign.
It’s fair to say that H.P. Lovecraft’s work has rarely translated well to movies. Aside from a handful of good adaptions, you’d struggle to find movies that really capture what the horror author was going for. Even then, the good adaptions end up having to take massive liberties with the story. H.P. Lovecraft’s Monster Portal isn’t an adaption, rather it’s a story that uses elements of the man’s…
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rachalixie · 2 months
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can’t get you off my mind
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all good love stories start with a drunk stranger, don’t they?
warnings: mentions of alcohol, fem!reader
genre: fluff, comfort
word count: 4k
it starts at a bar. 
or really, it starts with a man at a bar. one that you’ve seen before in passing, a familiar face in a sea of more familiar faces. someone who you’ll later learn is one third of your best friend changbin’s production team, someone who you should have met years ago probably, someone who you would find is the perfect puzzle piece that fits into your jagged edges.
but right now, he is just a man at a bar with a beer in hand and a ridiculously dopey smile on his face. 
“marry me, please,” he says, absolutely serious but it’s a bit diluted from the way his words were slurred around the edges. “or i’ll have to kidnap you.”
“excuse me?” you raise a brow at him, his image swimming a bit as you turn your head to fully take him in. you’re not drunk, but youre a couple glasses of wine deep and you’re not known for being fully articulate whilst sober anyways. 
“i swear i’m going to marry you,” he says, eyes wide as he looks at you. “you might be the most perfect person i’ve ever seen.”
you’re not overly fond of men you haven’t met hitting on you, but this one seems a bit harmless. if you ignored the part where he said he would kidnap you. at least he wasn’t grabbing onto you or trying to touch you - that would have sent your fist flying towards his face and probably a swift exit from the bar. it was a little weird that you didn’t find him weird, but in retrospect you must have known, even then. 
“okay, listen,” you put your hands on your hips, giving him an unimpressed look. “if you find me when you’re sober, ask me again and maybe i’ll reconsider.”
“okay,” he nods, hair moving along with his movement like a puppy’s ears. “i can do that. i’ll find you, i promise. i’m gonna marry you, did you know?”
“so i’ve heard,” you roll your eyes, already feeling a bit fond about him. you didn’t think you’d meet him again, but you were sure that you’d look at this night with a fond smile later. 
he sends you the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen on a person and scampers off, and you stand rooted to that one sticky spot in the bar for longer than you want to admit.
he’s in the back of your mind when you wake up the next morning, in a better mood than most - you never liked waking up early, it always took you a good hour and some coffee to be able to stand without grimacing. this morning though, you float around your apartment as you get dressed with a small smile on your face. 
a cute stranger who kept his boundaries and called you perfect? that wasn’t something that happened often, at least not to you. 
the floatiness followed you all the way through your morning routine until you found your feet stopping outside the coffee shop that you and changbin all but owned. you had no stock in it, but you’re sure that you supply them at least half of their revenue, you probably sit on their rickety chairs more often than your actual couch at home. this place has nursed you through every college class and job interview preparations and beyond, and if it ever closed you might lose time off of your life span. 
your movements from the door to the counter to your usual seat were robotic, muscle memory taking over while your head did somersaults through the clouds. it’s only when you take the first sip of coffee, the bitterness and heat hitting your tongue in a delightful dance, that you notice it. 
another man is sitting next to changbin. a man that looks awfully familiar, and it takes you a moment to realize why. it’s the man from the bar. 
“changbin?” you keep your eyes on the other man as you direct your question at changbin, trying hard to keep your face neutral. “explain?”
“i’m chan,” the man interjects before changbin can answer, reaching his hand across the table for you to shake. it’s warm, his grip somewhere perfectly in the middle of too hard and too soft, and he lets go after an appropriate amount of seconds. despite the neutral passivity of the gesture, you feel something ignite within you, and it threatens to sputter out when you catch no spark of recognition in his eyes. was he that drunk last night that he doesn’t remember you? do his sober eyes not find you as perfect?
“he crashed at my place last night,” changbin’s voice filters through your turmoil, and you finally break away from chan’s gaze to level him with a look. “and he needed coffee, so i brought him along. chan, this is y/n, my best friend.”
the conversation that followed flowed more freely than the coffee dripping from the machines behind the counter, and you almost hate how much you like it. chan is a little goofy, the man from the previous night shining through moments of seriousness and rapt attention. 
by the time you had to leave to go to work you felt like you knew him. you learned where he lived (close to you!), that he worked with changbin (he’s a producer!), and that he loved all animals but he adored dogs (he has one named berry!). just an hour of casual conversation had led to you needing more of him in every aspect of your life, but still in the back of your head lived the thought of him not remembering you from the night before.
changbin leaves first, citing some meeting he had to run to in the middle of a yawn, and when you were left with chan the embarrassment began to set in. 
“i’m going to marry you,” he blurts out, startling you so much you almost jump out of your seat. 
“what?” you ask, a mixture of surprise and disbelief combining into a confusing vortex within your head - was he going to go through this again? you didn’t know if your heart could take it. 
“i mean, i remember you,” he says before you could awkwardly excuse yourself and commit to getting to work early for the first time in a year just to escape being in a room alone with him for much longer. “i’m sorry, i was just embarrassed. i didn’t want to make a fool out of myself in front of changbin.”
“oh,” your breath leaves you all at once and you slump into your chair, understanding hitting you like a train. “that makes sense? i think?”
“i’m going to marry you,” he repeats, a mischievous glint in his eyes, the boy from last night shining through. “one day. i’m going to do it.”
“take me on a date first,” you tease back, a genuine smile stretching across your lips when he laughs, a full bodied thing that drew in eyes from the patrons across the room. for once, you didn’t seem to care that others’ eyes were on you. he made you feel comfortable. 
“what are you doing tomorrow?” his mouth turns upwards into a beautiful smile that you can’t help but return. 
“eager, are we?” you open your phone, sliding it across the table with the new contact page open on it. “i’m free.”
“you’re the most perfect person i’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says, as serious and genuine as the way he had proposed to you last night as he taps his number into your phone. “sorry if i’m a bit desperate.”
“don’t apologize,” you take your phone back, making a mental note to text him later. “i like it, for some unearthly reason. you’re cute, chan.”
the sound of his delighted laugh follows your footsteps all the way to work. 
— 
he picks you up for your first date at noon, right on the dot. he wasn’t a minute late, a polite knock sounding through your apartment just as the hour turned, as if he had been waiting and watching the time outside the door. 
god, is everything about this man endearing? 
he’s wearing shorts and a light sweater, looking like something out of a posh magazine. his hair is curly and swept off his forehead and he’s wearing a smile with the most adorable dimples shining through. 
he leads you to his car and you have to hold back an impressed whistle. you knew changbin and his team did well for themselves, the name 3racha all over the credits of songs on the radio, but this car was nice. you were going to have a talk with changbin about why he still drove the same beat up sedan he’s had since college but that was a thought for later. right now all you wanted to think about was the man who held the door open for you to slide into the passenger seat and was now holding your hand over the middle console. 
“do i get to know where we’re going?” you ask, peering at the map open on his phone but it tells you nothing more than that your destination was 15 minutes away and that he had to make a right turn in one mile. 
“it’s a surprise,” he says, voice a little nervous but it was masked with excitement. wherever he was taking you, you would be happy to be there if he was this happy the whole time. 
four songs on the radio later, one of which you teased him for when he revealed that he wrote it, he was pulling into a parking lot illuminated by flashing colorful lights. he had brought you to the fair. 
“i’ve never been to the fair!” you bounced a little in your seat, wriggling in excitement. “i’ve always wanted to go, how did you know?”
“lucky guess?” he shrugs, avoiding your gaze as he cuts the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt. 
“changbin told you, didn’t he,” you smile at the thought of chan asking his friend about what you’d like. it was cute, a word that you were probably exhausting when thinking about him even after a day of knowing him. 
“yes, but,” he flushes, the tips of his ears burning red. “i asked him after i had decided to come here, just to make sure it was a good idea. i didn’t steal it from him.”
“hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours that he had yet to let go of in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. you didn’t know what brought him calmness yet, but you wanted to learn. you wanted to learn everything about him. “now, take me to the fair, bang chan. i was promised a date.”
he finally meets your eyes again and he’s grinning so happily that you feel like you had just won a prize. who needed a fair when you had your very own carnival game right here? 
it turns out, you did. by the time the sun was beginning to set, your arms were full of various plushies that chan had won for you, each one earning him a hug and a kiss to his cheek. you treasured every single one, the fluttering in your chest when he stepped up to the booths to throw and shoot various things never ceasing. 
“let’s go to the ferris wheel,” you tug at him with your free hand, thanking the skies when you see no queue there. “i bet the sunset looks beautiful from the top.”
he’s quiet when he follows you there and into the carriage, his thigh pressing against yours as he slides in next to you, but you don’t notice in your excitement. it isn’t until the wheel ticks to the top and stops that he grabs your hand again, trembling a little. 
“chan? are you okay?” you ask, concern warping your voice as you turn towards him. your movement rocks the carriage a bit and he turns pale, ducking his head into your neck to hide. 
“yeah, ‘m okay,” he murmurs, his eyelashes ticking your skin when he blinks his eyes shut. “just don’t like heights very much.”
“oh my god, why didn’t you tell me?” you cry out, jumping a bit and regretting it when you rock the carriage again. “nevermind that, what can i do? it’ll go down soon, you’ll be alright.”
“just keep holding my hand?” he squeezes your fingers lightly and your heart melts. you may have made a joke that he was just trying to trick you into holding his hand any other time, but the fear in his shaking body was real and you’d never tease him for that. 
“of course,” you press a kiss to his hair, moving your other hand slowly to wrap around your intertwined fingers. the wheel begins to turn again, swaying the carriage as it descends. you keep your grip on his hand tight the entire time, all the way until you’re on your feet again on steady ground. 
“i’m so sorry,” you begin to say, the horror of subjecting him to his fear creeping up now that the crisis has passed. 
“i’m going to marry you,” he says, cutting off your apology and lifting your hands to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of yours. “no one’s ever been able to keep me that calm. thank you.”
you were left speechless after that and all you could do was smile at him, the ghost of it not leaving your face for the rest of the night. 
your thirty first date with chan ends with you crying into changbin’s arms, utterly confused and the feeling of despair creeping up your veins. you had met him your cafe as you had done several times since the fair, but when you arrived he wasn’t there. he came late, dark storms in his eyes and a hard set to his jaw and you didn’t understand what had made him like that. the usual smile and twinkle in his eyes were missing, and when you and asked him about what was wrong he had snapped at you in a way you hadn’t been talked to in years. 
you had left after that, brushing him off when his eyes had widened and he reached for you while calling out your name. you know that you should have given him a chance to explain, but at the time you were too hurt to consider it. 
you made your way to changbin’s apartment without thinking, your feet taking you to safety before your head could catch up. changbin had taken one look at your face before wrapping you up in his arm, walking you to his couch so he could cuddle you properly while words spilled out of you like a leaky faucet. you felt like you were back in college, crying and blubbering over a boy who had rejected you at a party, and you hated it. 
you didn’t notice changbin sending an angry text to chan, but the sound of changbin’s door opening with a bang startled you out of your tears. chan bursts in like a whirlwind, his hair sticking up at weird angles and a look of panic on his face as he takes you in. he reaches the couch in a few strides and falls to his knees in front of you, holding a crumpled bag from the cafe in his hand and taking your cheek gently into his other. his thumb wipes at the tear tracks there and you could practically taste the guilt emanating off of him. 
“love, i am so sorry,” he starts, ignoring changbin when he scoffs at the apology. “i shouldn’t have snapped at you, i had no right to do that. i got some bad news this morning and i wasn’t feeling my best, and i should have been honest with you. i’ll never do anything like that again, please forgive me? i’ll do anything.”
it was more his voice than his words that did it - he sounded so desperate, like he was trying to hold
onto a ledge that was crumbling, threatening to hurl his body into eternal nothingness. you knew him, you knew he was sorry, and against your first instinct you trusted him when he said he wouldn’t do it again. 
“is that an almond croissant?” you eye the bag in his hand. 
“it’s two almond croissants,” he nods fervently, his hair swishing back and forth with the movement. you sit up, sliding out of changbin’s arms and onto the floor in front of chan. chan’s arms replace changbin’s easily when you lean into him, and it feels like coming home. 
“it’s not like i have a nice couch you could be sitting on,” changbin mutters as he leaves, shaking his head fondly at the two of you before making himself scarce. 
chan kisses you, cradling your head gently into his hands, and they’re so warm. he slides his lips against yours, slowly like he’s taking his time memorizing the planes of your mouth to commit to memory. even after kissing him dozens of times you still find new things to learn about each other. 
“i swear,” he says, pulling away to meet your eyes. “i’m going to marry you, someday.”
“keep getting me croissants as apologies and we’ll see,” you say, sniffling into his neck. 
your eighty seventh date was spent in your bed, your head spinning like both hands on a clock simultaneously and your body exuding more sweat than you ever have. 
chan is wringing out a cool cloth to place on your forehead and it feels so nice that you moan. 
“i’m sorry,” you mutter, and chan has lost count of the amount of times you’ve said it at this point. “we had a date and i ruined it.”
“we were going to see a movie,” he says, running a hand up and down your spine. “and we will. we don’t need a movie theater when we have a screen right here, hmm?” 
“but the popcorn,” you complain, closing your eyes in bliss when he runs a hand through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp. an apology for being so sweaty was at the tip of your tongue but you hold it back in favor of enjoying the feeling of his touch. 
“i’ll make you all the popcorn you want when you’re feeling better,” he promises, dropping a kiss to the side of your head. “for now, how does soup sound?” 
“popcorn soup?“ you ask, a wave of dizziness taking over your body; if you weren’t lying down already, you’re sure that too would be falling over. 
“yeah, baby,” and even in your delirium the fondness in his voice was prominent. he couldn’t hide it even if he tried. “i’ll make you some popcorn soup. get some rest okay?”
you’re asleep before he leaves the room, and you only wake up when he shakes your shoulder a bit and helps you into an upright position. he feeds you bites of what is definitely not popcorn soup after putting a movie on your laptop, the screen sitting at the foot of your bed. the both of you fall asleep before the movie finishes, but you don’t mind. 
he stays with you for days, making you soup and tea and toast and feeding you medicine and being an all-around angel as he nurses you back to health. by the time you’re better you think you’ve fallen back in love with him several times. 
as you had expected and warned him about, he catches your sickness the next week, and now it’s your turn to be his nurse. you try and do the same job he did, but his delirium seems worse. the silver lining is that his fever isn’t as bad, so you’re babysitting a babbling boyfriend more than a sick one. 
the night before his fever breaks is the worst, since he doesn’t even recognize you. you shake your head at his silliness when he asks who you are and calls you pretty. you smile when he takes your hand in his and asks you to come closer. 
you tear up when he tells you that he has a girlfriend that he loves very much and so even though you’re pretty he can’t do anything else because his girlfriend is the prettiest one in the whole world. you let a tear slip when he tells you that he can’t wait to propose to his girlfriend and that he’s going to marry her someday. 
you tell him that you have a boyfriend that you're going to marry someday, trusting that he wouldn’t remember it in the morning. 
your hundredth and fifth date was not unlike your fifth, or your tenth, or your ninetieth. two and a half years later, you were just as endeared by him and he was just as obsessed with you - even more so, if it were possible. 
he takes the time to tell you how gorgeous you look when he picks you up just like he does on every date, and you hide your disgustingly fond smile for him behind his back like you do every time you see him. 
he parks and runs around the car to let you out like he does every time you habit this restaurant, a little fancier than your usual best but it was a favorite of the both of yours - across the street from the bar the two of you had met at. 
you start walking before he does, letting him jog to meet you and complain about how you left him, just like you do every time. before him. you might have thought the monotony would have gotten tiring, but he had a fantastical ability to make every moment feel like the first despite their practiced nature. 
he calls your name from behind you right on schedule and you hum in acknowledgement, turning towards him absentmindedly. the second you lay eyes on him you’re completely alert, though; he isn’t jogging after you, but rather he’s kneeling on the sidewalk, a small box in his hands as he smiles up at you. 
“i’ve told you that i’m going to marry you more times than i can count,” he starts, eyes shining like the stars twinkling in the night sky above you. “but this time i’m asking you.”
“chan,” you choke out, hands coming up to cover your mouth as it quivers. tears spring to your eyes and you silently curse yourself - you always thought you’d be level headed when you got proposed to, but nothing could have prepared you for this, not even the thousands of declarations he had made to you prior. 
“i love you. you’re the only one in the entire universe that i need more than blood or breath, you’re the song that runs through my heart and the fire that leads my path when i’m lost,” his voice is thick, like he’s trying to hold back his emotions long enough to get his words out. “i never thought that i would feel so strongly for someone, i never thought that i deserved a love like this until i met you.”
he pauses as you walk closer to him, letting you approach him before he continues. 
“my love, my eternal light,” he’s tearing up now, blinking fast to keep the salty water at bay. “will you marry me?”
“chan,” you start, kneeling down next to him and taking his wrists in your hands. “i never told you this, but ever since that first day i knew. i knew that the drunk idiot that was hitting on me would be my husband.”
he chuckles, smiling delightedly as the tears finally spring from both of your eyes in unison.
“so?” he trails off, searching your face with his eyes, waiting. 
“oh!” you tighten your grip on him in an apology. “of course i’ll marry you, gosh i love you so much.”
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darkmovies · 1 year
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tflaw · 2 years
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— PUSSY P♡WER.
They only have one goal before you leave Sumeru for another land, and that is to satiate their fantasies about your cunt.
꒰ა ❤︎ ໒꒱ . . . afab!reader. tease!reader. traveler!reader not pertaining to the twins in game. i got a biiit carried away with cyno’s part (i mean, it’s cyno my number one slut). nonetheless, please enjoy!
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CYNO + lots of cum, undertones of perv!cyno, unprotected.
cyno is unfamiliar with defeat in all aspects of life. in sumeru, everyone with ears and eyes knows that whatever the general mahamatra wants, the general mahamatra gets. or in this case, you: the traveler from another land. that being said, none could gauge his discontent upon having his persuasions denied every time.
“i can give you anything: money, power, influence. just name it.” his lilt unmasked his dwindling patience. after all, as general mahamatra, it is not a walk in the park to leave his base for a journey to the rainforest. coming home defeated each time calls for desperate measures indeed.
such a wily thing you are, adroit in pushing back after cultivating make-believe for cyno to relish in. it’s always hidden in your smile, followed by an innocent “general, you wish to fuck me that badly?”
to which, he’d answer, “yes. hard and preferably in my bed. but as you are now, stubborn and unbent, say yes and i wouldn’t mind anywhere.”
he awaits the laugh that is certain to follow, a sound that peels off at his sanity, all while tempting his cock to spring out of its restraints, but none echoed. instead, he finds himself inside an inn, with your naked body and wet cunt spread out in the creaky bed. at long fucking last.
sumeru is home to breathtaking panoramas. but in cyno’s opinion, no vista could ever vie with how your arousal coats the plumped lips of your cunt, waiting to be fucked hard. or how gorgeous you look in all fours, back smoothly curving to present yourself to him.
and when he finally, finally pops his cock into your pulsing walls, his breath hitches at the sensation. proving the fantasies he has painted about you all while maintaining the surprise, your cunt is indeed warm, wet, and perfect. it’s loud, too— producing a sucking noise every time cyno picks up his pace, burying himself in you until the white ring around his girth dribbles down his heavy balls.
you clamp around him and his eyes roll back to his skull. his cocktip kisses your spot and he drools at the feeling. the cycle of pulling and pushing and endless huff of jagged breathing tips him over the edge. until he’s coming loads straight into your insides. cyno overstimulates himself until his shoulders begin to jitter, pistoling his rawed-out cock to give you every drop of his thick and hot cum. in hopes that you’ll never forget what it feels like.
AL-HAITHAM + might be ooc, spare me this man is hard to write. undertones of yandere. big balled and big brained al-haitham. you walk in on him touching himself.
as someone in possession of knowledge that remains shrouded in most people’s cognizance, al-haitham has mastered the art of deceit easier than anyone with a functioning brain in sumeru. deceit that he equips as white lies, all in order to fall in your good graces. or if he is to be candid, to get under your pants.
he particularly roisters in hearing about your curiosities merely to obscure his answers and lead you astray from what you seek. a calculated effort that will establish the day you’d come for his help again, therefore nailing your attention to him and no one else. and as expected from an outlander strange to the land of dendro, you seem oblivious to al-haitham’s advances.
which he finds remarkably endearing, for if there exists an image that could shake his carnal desires awake, it is the manner of how you look at him: doe-eyed, awaiting the answers to your inquiries to slip past his lips.
you are a tight knot in his chest, pressing down on his stomach and between his legs. the product of his salacity, you take away any crumbs of reason and logic from him each night as he pumps himself with big hands. until there are drops of cum on his floor, and his cock falls limp to his stomach once he lays back panting on his bed.
that is until one particular day when his lust has overcome all rational thoughts. al-haitham ends up behind crates in an abandoned room in port ormos, sweating bullets while fucking himself greedily. it was meant to be a quick release, propelled by his growing need to fuck you. never had he foreseen that you’d be following his trail, therefore catching him abusing his cock while panting your name.
“i… allow me to explain,” he mutters in haste, grappling for the waistband of his breaches to hide his swelling cock. “it’s not… i have not any intentions—”
“do you need my help?” you offer. he blinks at you, and you blink back innocently. “we cannot leave you in that painful state, can we?”
no, you can’t. but al-haitham, even after the first time he came inside you, has not found the satisfaction he quests after. what was supposed to be a quick fuck ended up with him fucking you in a few different positions inside the dim room. nevermind the cobwebs or the dust, al-haitham has only one thing in mind, and that is to pump you full with cum it’s the only thing you’d be thinking about once you depart from sumeru.
TIGHNARI + perv!tighnari. oral sex (reader receiving). voyeurism.
being a scholar equates to having the freedom of committing deeds that would’ve been questionable in someone else’s eyes. and in his lifetime, tighnari surely has done quite a few things that are considered eccentric from a standpoint of a bystander. he is not apologetic, not one bit. after all, nothing is prohibited for the sake of knowledge.
however, this particular curiosity rallied by the arrival of a certain outlander has the young scholar pondering about what’s considered moral and not. and yet his nature’s heightened instincts galloped faster than his ability to provide himself an answer.
it’s your scent, tighnari thinks. the overwhelming whiff of something addictive. something that he’d search for in the morning, or follow in the middle of the night. your scent provides him a certain heat, which travels from his nape down his spine. and with that scent, tighnari learns how to pleasure himself again. yet, it barely filled the desire seeping in his bones whenever you’d look his way or touch his skin accidentally.
he has been consumed by the thought before he could formalize a way to free himself from it: tighnari wants to eat your cunt and fuck you right after. all this he has kept to himself for weeks until one fateful night.
he knows that your body has been shaped to the point of perfection, he knows it. but nothing prepared him to see you with no clothes while you pistol two fingers in your cunt with so much enthusiasm. and perhaps he has moved from where he stands gelid or breathed a little too loud from where he hides, for the next thing he knows, your eyes are on his.
tighnari counts the seconds, telling himself that once it reaches five, you’d be covering yourself in mortification. imagine his surprise when you widen your legs and rub your clit while tugging at your nipple.
he wants to break here and there. take his cock out and shoot a fat load to the ground. what he ended up doing was kneeling before you in silent agreement. his lips buzz against your cunt as he enthusiastically feasts between your legs. he loves it, so much that he feels his cock leaking with every suck and lick of his tongue. when you arch your back and cried out into the night, tighnari’s balls tighten. even without touching himself, thick globules squirt from his throbbing slit. he realizes, then: your scent is unique because it comes from between your legs. and that night, tighnari drowned in it.
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💭 reblogs && feedback appreciated !
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elcineblue · 2 years
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Una joven mujer se introduce en la esencia del padre y descubre un lugar donde suceden misteriosas muertes ella descubre un extraño culto que adoran a las criaturas de Lovecraft en particulares y extraños rituales... 
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bvtbxtch · 1 year
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Angry Heart | Eddie Munson x fem!reader (Prologue)
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Summary: Your best friend Chrissy Cunningham always got everything she ever wanted, even you new friend and crush Eddie Munson. When Chrissy does the unthinkable, Eddie is left to pick up the pieces alone... or is he?
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually), reader and Chrissy are friends but have a fallout. Minimal usage of Y/N
Series warnings: MDNI 18 +, Smut, fluff and angst (everything all rolled into one beautiful shit show), mentions of drugs and alcohol being consumed, overall adult language and theme. By clicking the read more, you agree that you are over 18! Ageless and minor blogs who interact will be blocked.
Word count: ~4.7k
A/N: this story is the weird brainchild of me getting a little inebriated and remembering how my divorced parents met and I was inspired. This is my first fic ever and I know it is NOT GOOD, but feedback is always appreciated. This is just the prologue to set up some context for our characters. I have a rough plan as to where this story is going to go but I am so open to suggestions!! Thanks for reading y'all.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
September 1985
Chrissy Cunningham was always perfect. And it was even more annoying because she was pretty, popular and nice to everyone she made eye contact with. That is also why you had been best friends since junior high when you both joined the dance team. When high school hit, she projected herself into the popular group by revolving your high school experience around cheerleading and the popular girls, where you happily sacrificed some of your valuable reputation to pursue both cheer and drama club. Chrissy was always there even though you were seen as less desirable as the other girls on the team. Even if she was in the back row, she would always be at your productions and would happily cheer you on. 
Although she was your best friend, she scared you a lot. She was on the path to a scholarship to her dream school, to getting scooped up by some picture perfect person and getting married and having her dream job. She would stay hot and pretty and perfect forever and as you were approaching graduation, you often worried about what was next for you - terrified of peaking in high school and amounting to nothing. Worried about not finding your own group of people, your own scholarship, and your own path laid out neatly like Chrissy’s was.
Eddie Munson, however,  was the opposite of perfect. If Chrissy was a sparkling smooth personality, Eddie was a jagged edge that very few people appreciated. He was a repeat senior who dealt drugs to all of Hawkins’ youth and  was unapologetically apathetic to the restraints that were supposedly placed on the senior class of ‘86. So when he happily worked sound for the drama club in exchange for free rentals for his DND club, many drama kids turned their noses up at him; except for you. You happily sat next to him at your first drama club meeting. There was something magnetic about him. From that first time you met him, you were determined to get to know him better. Your intuitions told you that he was going to be more than a background character in your own story. 
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Two friends from opposite circles, opposite ends of the spectrum. As you and Chrissy left the gym fussing over new uniforms and team drama, Eddie was on the other side of the school picking his lunch kit out of the garbage, nursing a new black eye; and a freshman on his left pacing a rut into the hallway.
“Last time I stick up for you, Henderson. I swear to god…you’re lucky I have extra shirts in the drama storage.” The metalhead mumbled. His dark curls pulled back into a low bun as he dug further into the garbage can. 
“How was I supposed to know that it was Jason behind me? I didn’t mean to fall into him!” Dustin pouted. Eddie had picked him off the floor after Jason Carver had poured his gatorade down his Hellfire shirt. Eddie would never admit it, but as much as he loved his precious club, he cared for his freshmen recruits more. Jason, being the captain of the basketball team, and therefore the resident asshole, gave Eddie the shiner for his troubles, and threw his stuff in the garbage as an extra favor. You rounded the corner with Chrissy as you saw the two boys, both looking worse for wear. 
“Hey Ed - Oh my god your face!” You gasped as he turned around after finally fishing his lunch kit out of the trash.
“You should see the other guy” Eddie chuckled, and winced
“What other guy?” When he does not respond to your question you turn to the freshman who looks like he has seen a ghost. 
“J-Jason Carver. Eddie was just trying to save my ass.” Dustin squeaked, his eyes glued to his sneakers.
“Come with me”. You grab his hand and lead him to the girls locker room. Chrissy hot on your trails. 
After investigating to ensure no one else was in the changeroom, you lock the door and sit Eddie down on a bench while you enter the small infirmary to retrieve the first aid kit. Chrissy keeps her distance, but sits down beside him and flashes him a polite smile. Eddie feels a pang in his heart as he feels his cheeks start to burn red. Chrissy lets out a small giggle.
“That’s really brave what you did for that kid” Chrissy praised. 
“Ahh, there is no way Henderson would be able to take on that meathead. I gotta take care of my minions.” 
Chrissy laughs again, almost too loud. As you pace back to the two of them, you feel like an intruder. You clear your throat and both of them look away, blushing furiously. You take a long sigh as you open the first aid kit to find the ice pack and a bandaid for the small cut that has formed on Eddie’s cheekbone. He winces while you stick the bandaid on and you gently place the ice pack over his eye. His brown eyes glued to Chrissy’s as you tended to him. Once you finished, you cleaned up and the three of you returned to the bustling hallways of Hawkins High.
“Thanks for the help sweetheart. I just wish this was a spiderman bandage or something.” Sweetheart.
“Don’t sweat it Eddie. I’ll see you in rehearsal later” you smiled. Chrissy eyed Eddie up and down as you said your goodbyes and Eddie turned around to go to his next class. 
“I never realized how much of a charmer Eddie Munson is,” Chrissy pondered. You felt a pit in your stomach. As much as you loved Chrissy, Eddie was your friend first. So many of your teammates had put Chrissy as a priority over you, and you always felt like a drifter between drama and cheer - seeing as you felt you didn’t totally feel like you belonged in either.. Eddie was finally a person that you thought was yours, something that Chrissy couldn’t influence, someone that finally didn’t care about your background or where you fit on the food chain. But, lo and behold, it seems that everyone falls under the high school spell and everything always seems to be too good to be true for you.
“Yeah, he’s a cool guy I guess. He does the sound for the drama club apparently he’s got a knack for music. Walked into him playing some Black Sabbath on the guitar in the drama room.” You tried to retort calmly, but your hands were trembling. 
“Black Sabb -?Hmph. I think that is going to give me yet another reason to go to the drama room… Since he seems to be good with his hands” Chrissy giggled and intertwined her arm with yours, leading you to your shared math class. 
“Chris, please don’t just play with this one, I do really like him. I think he could be a really good friend.” Friend.
“That’s totally fine! Nothing’s gonna happen. I guess I just realized how cute he was…Maybe I should ask him to come watch us at the next game, or hang out…afterwards” Chrissy winks at you
“You’d be better off setting up a deal with him” you poke. She giggles as you both take your seats. 
You could barely focus in math, mind racing about how much Chrissy and Eddie bothered you. Was it really just the idea of him and Chrissy being better friends than you? Or were you jealous? That’s ridiculous because you liked Eddie as a friend. Just a friend. Chrissy could go out with Eddie all she wants. You aren’t the boss of her - or him for that matter. Then why are you stuck on the way your heart fluttered when he called you sweetheart? Why were you constantly seeking him out in the hallways?
No. It can’t be. You’re just friends. 
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October 1985
Your body was radiating with anxiety during afternoon rehearsals.The pit in your stomach had grown to a full ache in your chest whenever you heard Chrissy talk about Eddie. The more you taked with him, the more you wanted to reach out and touch him, to hug him and tell him that he was the greatest, most interesting person you had ever met. But again, everything seems way too good to be true because every time you hung out with Eddie, Chrissy seemed to make her way into conversation.
 Eddie was teaching a freshman how to use the new sound board and you could barely get out your lines. All you could think about is Eddie and Chrissy in the locker room. Your performances were so uninspired that Mr. Taylor ended your scene rehearsals early. Your scene partner Eric gave you an apologetic pat as you both reunited with the rest of the drama club. Eddie sauntered up behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. 
“How’s it going superstar?” He leaned his chin on the top of your head.
“Hey Eddie. I’m okay, trouble focusing today. I’m totally flubbing today.”
“Hey, so I had a question for you… about Chrissy”. You tensed up and broke away from him. You turned to face him but could not look him in the eyes.
“Umm, yeah what’s up?” There comes that ache you knew all too well. You could see it happening now, him finally choosing her over you. 
“Is she single? What’s the deal? Is she dating any basket boys I should be worried about?” He poked at you nervously. You tried to let a laugh escape to ease the tension but all that came out was an exasperated wince. 
“No, she’s single.. Do what you want Ed.” you mumbled. You could feel the tears threatening to well up. You brush past him and pick up your bag to head to the gym. Eddie’s eyes follow you out, but he couldn’t bring himself to go after you. What was your deal?
You trudged off the field after an exasperating practice after an exhausting rehearsal. You were so excited to leave this day in the past, grab some junk from the supermarket with Chrissy and hunker in for an evening of studying. In the locker room, Sarah and Tiffany giggle and look at you and Chrissy. 
“Hey Chris, we were wondering if you wanted to come to the mall with us right now. We were going to pick up some outfits for Halloween!” Tiffany briefly meets your gaze and looks back to Chrissy. 
“Yeah sure!” the blonde chirped “We would love to! Y/N and I were just going to-”
“Oh, well we only have room for one..” Sarah sneered. Chrissy looks at you with her beautiful brows furrowed into a perfect pout. You knew she wanted to go with them. You felt bad for making Chrissy sacrifice her social standing to hang out with you. You knew she wanted to go, but would never tell you. You decided to take the fall for her… the undesired yet again.
“Yeah, that’s fine, I got lots of homework to do anyways” you brushed off. “I’ll call you later Chris.”
“I’ll come over after!” Chrissy lazily offered as you packed your bag up and left the locker room.
You left with holes in your heart. All you wanted was your people to stay yours. You didn’t understand why that was so difficult.
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The shrill ring of your landline woke you from your desk - having fallen asleep while finishing homework. You flopped onto your bed and picked up the phone.
“Hello?” You yawned.
“Babe, I have to tell you about my evening!!” Chrissy squealed, she barely let you greet her.
“Oh, you mean the evening you were supposed to spend with me studying?” you jabbed. You felt bad for taking your insecurities out on Chrissy, but you couldn’t help it. 
“Oh come on now. This will make up for it.”
“Alright get on with it then.” You rolled your eyes and rolled on to your back.
“So you will never believe who me, Tiffany and Sarah ran into at the mall!”
“Ummm… John Cusak” You joked dryly. 
“No you silly! Eddie!” Chrissy yelped. “And do I have news for you!!”
You jolted up and immediately gave the call your full attention. This could not end well - either for Eddie or you.
“Sarah and Tiffany let you talk to Eddie in public?” you snorted. The insecurity seeping through the receiver.
“Well, kind of. We joked that the party next week would be best with something other than just the alcohol if you know what I mean” you could practically hear Chrissy’s eyebrows wagging. “So they dared me to go set up a deal with him… and I could see him practically drooling over me! I think he might like me, babe. And I think that I really like the fact that he does” she giggles maliciously. Attention. As kind and beautiful as Chrissy was, she was used to the attention, she thrived off of it. It worried you, the fact that there were hordes of guys that had been left in her wake so she could have an ego boost or something to do on a Friday night. 
“Chris, are you sure that’s, like, a good idea? What if you really hurt him?”
“Oh come on, Y/N, its just a bit of fun. Nothing serious! So anyways, I went over to his trailer about an hour ago and he asked for my number! Ugh!” Your excitement wasn’t reciprocated like Chrissy had hoped. Her squeals being the only ones that echoed between the two of you.
“What’s wrong? Why aren’t you excited?” Chrissy questioned. 
“I just - you’re both my friends, I just don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
“Ugh you worry way too much. It’s just some harmless fun! Loosen up, maybe then you could get some dates yourself!” she chided. You knew she was joking but it was the last blow to your breaking heart “ Anyways, I gotta get off the line just in case he tries to call! Love you!” with that you hear a click and the dead line. You sigh as you put your phone back on the receiver and flop back down onto your pillows.
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You always hated halloween. It was an excuse for anyone your age to dress up in some sort of sexy reiteration of some sort of animal or cartoon character and to get sloppy drunk in someone’s trashed house, unbeknownst to their absent parents. That is exactly where you found yourself; Chrissy on one side of the couch, Tiffany on the other, you smooshed in the middle (as per Chrissy’s request)  and half of the basketball and cheer team sat in a messy circle on the floor. How you got yourself roped into spin the bottle, you would never know, but your makeshift devil horns were giving you a headache and as much as you loathed blacking out in random people’s houses, you were nursing your fourth drink of the night (and were definitely feeling the buzz). Between the noise of people talking over each other, the blaring music, and Chrissy constantly blabbing about how much time she and Eddie have been spending together, you felt like your brain was going to explode. The only option that you really saw for the evening was to forget all about it like half of the Hawkins High population at the party. 
Jason grabbed the empty bottle in the middle of the circle and spun it with vigor. Everyone waited in anticipation to see who would be the lucky girl to get to kiss the king of Hawkins high. The room fell hushed as you looked at the bottle, which was pointing directly at you. You immediately felt like you were going to throw up. Since that day in the hallway with Eddie, you always held some animosity for Jason. The last thing you wanted to do was kiss the guy who went after one of your other best friends. Jason chuckled and elbowed his minions on either side of him, all of them snickering deviously. He stood from his spot and stalked across the circle towards you. You chuckled nervously and went to get out of your spot on the couch. 
“Hah, don’t mean to kill the vibe, but suddenly I don’t really feel like playing anymore.” You push yourself off the couch and go to step over some people sitting on the floor but Jason grabbed your wrist. Hard. You felt the world spinning around you, unsure if it was your sudden anxiety, or the alcohol. You could hear the faint whispers of Chrissy and Tiffany behind you, and you were suddenly aware of the 20 pairs of eyes locked on you. You tried to pull away from him with no avail.
“Come on, don’t be a prude. Let me give you the best kiss of your life, seeing as the only person you’ve boned is the freak” He pulled you into his chest and held your face in his hands. He pressed his mouth to yours, trying to weasel his tongue inside your pressed lips. You finally got the strength to push him away with a cry in disgust. You wanted to slap him but your bones now felt like jello and your feet cemented to the floor.
“She hasn’t boned the freak! She hasn’t boned anyone!” Chrissy laughed, not realizing that her retort did more harm than good. You wished the ground would swallow you whole. Finally, you muster your strength to move. You didn’t want any of these assholes to see you cry, to give them the satisfaction.
“Thanks, Chris” you whisper before running out of the room and up the stairs to the crowded living room. You were desperate for some air. Everything around you felt like it was constricting you, choking you. All you could hear was laughter and your vision felt like it was pinholing. You slide out of the front door to sit on the steps. You breathe deeply, looking around to make sure that there was no one around before you let your tears fall.
Chrissy made an attempt to go after you. After rolling her eyes and giving Tiffany a tight smile, she lifter herself off of the couch and pranced up the stairs to the rest of the party. She looked around the scatterings of people, but didn’t see you. She slid her way through the hallway into the kitchen, where her eyes found someone else she had been casually looking for all evening. She stumbled towards a mop of chocolate curls and wrapped her arms around him, hands covering his eyes.
“Guess who?” she slurred. 
“Hey pretty girl.” Eddie turned to her to give her a proper embrace but quickly took a step back. “Don’t know if you want to be seen doing that to me right now” he chuckled nervously. Eddie understood what being seen with him meant and as little as he cared for his own reputation, he cared greatly for hers
. Chrissy looked him up and down and fully realized the metal head’s beauty. Pale skin kissed with dark ink, beautiful brown eyes that shone - especially when he talked to her, lean figure and crooked smile. She felt like her brain was going to short circuit.
“You’re right” Chrissy cooed. “Maybe we should go somewhere a little more private so we could talk” She took his hand and led him up the stairs to a quiet hallway full of closed doors. They rounded a corner and they sank down the wall to sit on the floor, Chrissy totally forgetting about her mission to find you and Eddie being blissfully ignorant to your conundrum.
You had collected yourself and knew there was no way you could stay at the party. As much as you loathed going back into the chaos and as angry as you were at Chrissy, you couldn’t allow yourself without letting her know that you were leaving and how angry you were. When reentered the house, the first faces you were met with were Jason and his posse of meatheads. You averted your gaze but heard their snickers anyway. You refused to give him the satisfaction or the tears, so you kept moving, keeping your eyes glued to the linoleum. The tightness of your chest multiplied with the number of rooms you checked where you did not see a perky blonde ponytail. You needed to find Chrissy; you needed to give her a piece of your mind; you needed to leave. But everything was deafening. Things were getting fuzzy.  Determined to get a grip and find your friend, you trot up to the top floor of the house, in search of a quiet place to collect yourself. You were met with a long hallway full of closed doors. You continue down the hallway, checking doors to see if you could find a bathroom. When you round the corner of the dim upstairs, your breath gets caught in your throat.  You see Eddie sitting on the floor, Chrissy in his lap, their mouths messily mashed together. Everything came tumbling down. The combination of alcohol and shock makes you wrack out a gasp of air. Both Eddie and Chrissy looked up but with very different expressions. Chrissy looked almost proud of her conquest, ignorant to the hurt you were already feeling towards her. Eddie, on the other hand, looked mortified - turning a bright red. The look of betrayal was clear across your own face as tears threatened to fall again. 
“Im - I’m going to go.” you don’t wait for either of them to get up. Eddie pushes Chrissy to her feet and gets up to go after you. Chrissy grabs his arm
“Eddie, wait!”
“Chrissy, I am so incredibly sorry, but I need to go make sure she’s okay” He goes to move away from her but she stops him again and pulls him in for a chaste kiss.
“Please don’t let this be the last time we do this” she whispers into his ear and drops his hand. Eddie turns a bright pink and leaves her with a smile.
You trudge through the house, tunnel vision honing in on the front door. The urge to vomit increased tenfold. Eddie catches up to you. You hear him calling out for you but you can’t turn back. Too embarrassed and heart broken (and drunk) to be able to handle what you saw in an unfamiliar place, in front of strangers nonetheless. You swung open the front door and ran down the front steps. Eddie trudges after you, clearly upset about what you had seen. There was no way he was going to let this get between the two of you. 
“Y/N Wait” He sounds desperate. You turn to him and roll your eyes. 
“What? Is it not what it looks like?” you laugh dryly. “You don’t need to explain anything to me, I’m going home.” You turn to leave. You couldn’t take another person pitying you. You understood where you were on the food chain. Yet another person to think of you as second best to Chrissy.
“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t walk by yourself this late at night.” Eddie chides. The alcohol had finally given you the bravery you had been needing for the past hour. 
“Don’t do that. Don’t sweetheart me when you are literally going to go back inside and suck face with my best friend. Just - go. Enjoy the rest of your night Eddie. I’ll be just fine.” The tears freely falling down your cheeks didn’t convince him. He takes a step towards you but you turn to walk away,
“Why are you so angry with me about Chrissy? I thought I didn’t need to explain anything to you, but you seem really fucking mad at me”. Eddie’s words stop you dead in your tracks. He’s angry? With you? Instead of actual vomit, the words that come out of your mouth leave uncontrollably.
“She doesn’t like you Eddie. She likes the attention. She doesn’t like you like I do. She doesn’t care about you like you deserve to be cared about. And she likes the fact that I care about you way too much. Chrissy has to have everything. I can’t have anything to myself, but yet again no one gives a shit about me, about how I feel. How much I care because as long as Chrissy is there, she will always be number one. You are just  another conquest for her and ,and she is just using you” You stand your ground, chest heaving. There is a sense of relief that you stood your ground but you immediately knew you said to much.
“E-Eddie, wair-”
“You think that I don’t know that she’s using me?”
“What?”
“Look, Y/N I am really really sorry that you care about me and I am really sorry that you feel that way about Chrissy. But I really like her. So I’m cool if she thinks that she wants to have some fun for now. I’ll let her as long as she’ll have me. Just -  please stop caring about me, sweetheart. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I want to be your friend but, fuck -I might be in love with Chrissy. I think I have been for a long time, but just finally let myself feel it..”
You stood in shock. Your heart shattered to a million pieces. Eddie’s did too. He loved having you as a friend and he loved having you in his life, but he couldn’t imagine kissing you like he did Chrissy, taking you on dates like he wanted to with Chrissy, going to prom like he wished he would with Chrissy. Not you. 
“Forget we ever had this conversation”. You turned on your heels and walked away. Hoping that Eddie would stop you and tell you that this was all a joke, that you were worth it, that you were his favorite and that he felt the same way about you. And even though being Chrissy’s friend was draining a lot of the time, you did  always have her. But everything changed in one night. This is the first night that you have ever felt completely  alone. You crossed your arms over your torso and started your walk home.
The next days and weeks went on as normal. Eddie seemingly didn’t tell Chrissy about your conversation because the phone calls never ceased. She still met you by your locker and she still intertwined her arm with yours when you walked. Eddie's gaze was aimed more at Chrissy and nights where you and Eddie normally hung out were now filled with secret rendezvous with the blonde. Although he still acted like your old Eddie, you felt a coldness from him. His smile never seemed genuinely happy and his eyes stopped glowing when he saw you. You kept quiet in efforts not to lose your only true friends at the school, but your shattered heart was refractured after every phone call you got from Chrissy, every detail you heard about their meetups or how soft his hands were or how great his kisses were.. You felt like you were crashing and burning but you kept up your facade to ensure you could salvage your fractured friendship, and every time you hung up your phone, you curled into your pillow and cried because although things were seemingly as they were supposed to be, you had never felt so out of place and isolated in your life.
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You were waiting for Chrissy to come over, books sprawled across your kitchen table in anticipation for your study session for your semester finals. She was over an hour late.You sighed as you pulled out your flashcards and started to review in an attempt to salvage the time you had already wasted. You were interrupted by your phone ringing. 
“Hello?”
“Babe oh my god I am so sorry I am running behind but you are never going to guess what happened!!” 
“What’s that Chris?”
“Eddie Asked me to be his girlfriend!!”
Part 1 when?
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mimicmockingbirds · 1 year
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OK, but hear me out
Say Ride the Cyclone were to be adapted into a film; imagine how much fun it would be to see it animated.
Because for the main plot, like the intro song and the mostly dialogue scenes in limbo, you could easily do a stylistic, but still grounded in realism style that a lot of modern animated projects are doing right now (think Arcane or Into the Spider Verse). But once each of the kids go into their respective songs/fantasies for what their life could have been? What if those were done in completely different styles?? Imagine the additional, visual storytelling that would tell about who they are as characters?
Like say, for Ocean's number, WTWN, everything became more simplified, and the characters (especially Ocean herself) turned into a more rounded, chibi-like style to enhance just how cutesy and likeable she's trying to portray herself throughout that number.
Or for Noel's Lament, everything goes black and white, and the characters become even more 2D stylized, and the film scales down to a smaller millimeter frame, more reminiscent of cartoons from the early 20's, when animation was just starting out, to enhance his idealization of "the olden days" (as Ocean puts it).
Mischa's song, This Song is Awesome could be animated with a more choppy frame rate, and the character designs turn a little more jagged around the edges, kind of like animated music videos (I'm thinking a Gorillaz band vibe). But as he transitions into singing about Talia, the colors start to bleed out over their lineart, and become more paint-like and Talia herself moves like a rotoscoped character (think Loving, Vincent that came out a few years ago) to enhance the sense that she's somewhere between a real person and a fantasy Mischa's built in his mind.
Ricky's song would, of course, be stylized after those sci-fi cartoons from the 90's, like X-Men or Captain Planet.
For the Ballad of Jane Doe, I would love to see something like what Wolfwalkers did back in 2020, where most of the characters (in this case, the other kids) are for the most part, animated like traditional, 2D characters with very clean lines and neat movements, whereas Jane herself stands out for having messier, sketchy line art, and looks more and more unfinished in her animation as the song goes on, because she can feel more and more of her own identity being lost.
Constance's Sugar Cloud I could see done in the classic 2D Disney style (i.e., the Renaissance era of Disney, like the Lion King or Little Mermaid days) because not only is it really smooth and colorful and just all around nice to look at, but it reminds the average moviegoer of their childhood growing up with those movies (among others, obviously), which ties in nicely with Constance's preceding monologue about remembering her own life, and the good that came with the bad.
I'm even tempted to envision the first half of the finale song in a different style, when the stage production would show a quick projection of Jane/Penny's life after she returned to the world of the living. Imagine watching this animated film, and for that segment alone, it becomes that really hyper-realistic, almost uncanny valley CGI animation style, to show that she really has joined the world of the living, i.e. our world, among us, the living breathing movie goers watching this, and watching the other kids still in limbo fade back to that main art style for the final number.
I don't know; it just feels like something that would be so engaging to see from an already compelling storyline and characters. Especially with more experimental animation projects on the rise right now
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itsamepatches · 1 year
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Owl, Rabbit, Eeyore, Piglet, and Pooh from the Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey story, "Unusual Creatures"
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pashminalamb · 2 years
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𝕐𝕆𝕌ℝ 𝕎𝕆ℝ𝔻𝕊, 𝕄𝕐 ℍ𝕌ℝ𝕋
𝔼𝔻𝕀𝕋𝕀𝕆ℕ 𝟙
Edition 2 : link
ଘ Synopsis : Their words hurt you
ଘ Starring : isagi yoichi, itoshi rin and kunigami rensuke. (They’re 23 and professional players)
ଘ A/N : This is a part of a multicharacter series that I'm currently writing for. Will there be more parts? yes. Will there be comfort? Yes
Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and appreciated <3
ଘ Currently : no taglists.
ଘ Limit : 3 characters
ଘ Wc : 2.6k
ଘ Warnings : foul language, mentions of injury for Kunigami's part.
ଘ Pairings : Isagi Yoichi x reader, Itoshi rin x reader, Kunigami Rensuke x reader
ଘ Do not copy, repost, translate or edit any of my works.
Link 2, Link 3
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♤ Isagi Yoichi : Shut the fuck up. What do you even know about football? 
It had been another quiet night in the apartment. Despite returning from Germany, you rarely got to see your lover; the only reminders being the left dumbbells that were left on the floor along with discarded clothes that gave away the silent message of him not returning home for the night, instead choosing to go out to the field to train until early hours of the morning. 
Sighing, you bent on the floor picking up his discarded sweaty clothes and threw them into the washer, walking to the kitchen to prepare a meal for him and keep it in the microwave in case he was still hungry, leaving a note on top of the lid. 
‘For Yo. Eat well :)” 
Days had turned into a week and there were signs of Yoichi in the house but it felt as if there were a ghost of him, considering the pairs of studs that would be left at the doorstep, the empty dish of the previous night left to dry near the sink or the missing watch that told you he had a press conference or the billboards that were in the city with his face featured for a new product in the market. 
It wasn’t until one night where you had grown frustrated that you had decided to leave at an ungodly hour in the night, driving to the stadium where you knew he would be, practicing.
Walking around the bleachers, on the field, you watched as Yoichi dribbled the ball past his feet and made it past his opponents, the last one before the goal giving him a critical shoulder push as he fell to the ground. 
“Yo!” you gasped, running towards him as the referee held up a yellow card to the opposing team player. Leaning down you watched as he grit his teeth, a feral expression displaying his animosity taking over his face. 
“Are you alright?” you asked. 
“I’m fine. Just… leave. Go home, I’ll be there in two hours.” he said, shoving your hand from his bruised shoulder. “Just come home, Yoichi. You can play tomorrow. You need sleep.” you said, eyes settling on the bags under his gaze. “Tomorrow?” he asked in a grave voice, giving you a glare from the side of his face. “And then what? When I get a broken nose and bleed, you’ll tell me to play next month?” he contested, his voice gaining a higher tone with every passing word. 
“I-” 
“Shut. the. Fuck. up. What do you even know about football?” he asked, a humorless chuckle coming out of him. “I’ve earned my place in this field. I don’t need to hear what I need to and don’t need to do when I’m the best here. And if I had to, you would be the last person I would ever come to.” 
You watched as he walked away from you, giving his injured shoulder a few turns before eventually going to the referee, saying that he was ready to play, while the rest of the players stood there awkwardly, looking at each other on what they should do. You could feel tears pooling in the corner of your eyes from the sheer humiliation you had felt before them, with the thing that hurt you the most being how small isagi had made you feel. Gritting your teeth, you clenched your fists onto the metal of the car keys, the smooth yet jagged edges digging into the skin of your palm. Taking a slow turn you walked out of the stadium into the car, settling into the driver’s seat with your face staring up at the hood of it, trying to stop the tears from falling down your face. 
After driving around in circles of the city you had made it home, throwing your keys onto the table, and settling on the sofa haphazardly. Maybe you couldn’t give him what he needed…just gave him what you could and what you thought was best.
Not daring to step into your shared room, you decided to pack a bag and not be there for the night; it was a bad idea to stay in the same place that reminded you of the one you wanted to get away from, leaving a gel pack that you had picked up from the konbini in the freezer as one last gesture before you turned in for the night.
Dropping on the soft mattress of the hotel bed and too tired to think from all the tears you cried, you decided to do the best thing and sleep, unaware of the lit up screen of Yoichi and you with a silent ring. 
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♤ Itoshi Rin : You’re so insecure, it's actually pathetic. Makes me think why I’m even with you. 
It had been a good six months when you and Rin had become a pair… unofficially. There had been speculated rumors of the football star seeing someone, with the paper printing his image with a random model that he might have met at an event or collaborated with. 
You knew you shouldn’t be envious, as it was Rin who would come to your apartment at time of the night during weekdays or spend the night at your home during the weekend, yet you couldn’t rid off the green feeling that made your insides churn in sadness. 
It was another night in your apartment when you heard the sound of a doorbell. Opening the door, you revealed the figure before you to be none other than the man you had been seeing. Handing you the package of food you had ordered prior, he moved into your apartment, stepping out of his shoes, going into the living room, removing his coat. Taking his spot on the couch, he placed his phone on the table, eyes staring into yours, asking you to join him. Placing the package on the table, you moved to sit close to him, a good space between the two of you. Lifting a finger he beckoned you to come close to him. 
Sighing, you came close until your knee touched his, his hand reaching to yours, entwining your fingers with his. It wasn’t like Rin to talk, choosing his actions to speak louder for him. 
“I saw you on the cover of the magazine today. Didn’t know you were the new model for Issey Miyake…” you said with a small playful smile, remembering the navy blue sweater that Rin wore on the said photoshoot. 
“They’re hosting an event in two days.” Rin said, his thumb brushing over the expanse of your hand. “Social events disgust me.” 
“Hm… but you do have to build your image as a footballer right? Might as well watch models on the runway and clap while you’re at it…” you teased, nudging him. 
Grunting, he placed his head on your shoulder, the soft tresses of his hair brushing against your collarbone causing the corner of your lip to perk up. 
This was nice. 
You felt your hands shake as you held the phone closer to your face, eyes squinting at the image. 
‘Football star Itoshi Rin and Kimimura Ayano at Shibuya : a blossoming love?’ 
Blinking sleepily at the bright light from the morning sleep, you let your gaze adjust until you got a better look at the picture of what seemed to be Rin and the Japanese girl group idol who had been on the steady rise ; his hand brushing the strands of hair away from her face. Your heart dropped.
If he wanted to bring a plus one, why wasn’t it me? 
It was a pattern for a few days where you wouldn’t answer Rin’s texts, answering them with one or two words. Rin knew you had been acting strange, the screen of his phone blank rather than seeing the plethora of messages he usually got from you ranging from owl facts (that were very much welcomed) to what you had decided to buy or go or treat yourself with on that day. It was eerily silent. 
Deciding it was better to see you in person, Rin decided to drive over to your apartment. 
On the sound of the bell, you walked to the door, body too tired to lift itself. Opening the door with a heavy hand, you watched as Rin brushed past you walking to the couch with a quick pace. Walking slow footsteps, each weighing with the sleep you desperately needed, you sat a good foot away from him. 
“What’s gotten into you?” he asked, eyes fixed on the wall in front of him. 
“It's… nothing.” you said, hand resting under your chin while the other gripped your phone tightly. 
“You know better than to challenge someone who knows you’re a terrible liar.” “You want to start off with lies, Rin?” you asked, irritation getting the better of you from the lack of sleep and stress. “Why don’t you tell me what this was then?” you asked, unlocking your phone and shoving it in his face. 
Blinking at the picture before him, he grabbed your phone and zoomed in on the pixels. “Where did you find this?” 
“Doesn’t matter.” you spat, snatching your phone away from him. 
“A picture. That’s all it took? Thought your self control was better than that.” his voice touching a grim note, getting up from the couch to sneer down at you. 
“An invite to a person that you’re not dating when you are actually seeing me? Thought your self preservation was better than that.” you retorted, getting up from the couch, until your torso was inches away from his. 
Flaring his nostrils and clenching his jaw, you watched as the warmth in Rin’s eyes now dulled. 
“You’re so insecure, it's actually pathetic. Makes me think why I’m even with you.” 
“And I deserve someone who would not make me second guess my place in their life.” you said, walking towards the door, pressing down the handle to open it. 
“If your conversation is done here, you can go. Don’t want to hold you any longer, Itoshi san.” 
You watched as he clenched his jaw out of anger, fists clenched as he slipped into his shoes and left with heavy footsteps, not turning to bat an eye at you. Closing the door behind him you felt your knees buckle to the floor, as you wept. 
Maybe this was for the best. 
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♤ Kunigami Rensuke : You’re an eyesore. So do me a favor and stay out of my way. Get the fuck out of my sight. 
It had been another long evening at the gym, as Rensuke pushed himself on his routine. 
Run…Run hard. Run fast. Run light. Breathe. Repeat. 
Little did he know that the late nights spent at the gym was a way for his subconscious to escape from the nightmares that he faced in the wild card, even if it had been years since he had left the blue lock facility. Closing the door behind him to the apartment he made his way to the kitchen, the sight of a bento flooding into his vision. 
“Out with friends. Eat this in case you get hungry!” 
Deciding to turn in for the night, Rensuke left the box untouched, his muscles screaming for him to get into bed. Stepping out of his clothes until he was in nothing but clad boxers, he pulled the sheets over himself, falling into a deep slumber oblivious to the door opening at midnight. 
Waking up from bed he was greeted with the sight of you setting pieces of toast on the table, the sizzling of food on the pan filling the air with a delicious smell. 
“Good morning Rensuke! Did you sleep well?” you asked with a smile. Grunting as he scratched his bedhead, he walked towards the fridge, grabbing the cold carton of milk and chugging it down. 
“Rensuke! That will just ruin your appetite! You need to eat!” you exclaimed, walking over to him to grab the now half empty milk carton. “If you wanted milk, I would’ve poured it out in a glass for you…” 
“Leaving for practice.” he said simply, footsteps on the wooden floor moving in the opposite direction. 
“When will you be back?” you asked. 
“Dunno.” was all the said, throwing on a shirt and a pair of joggers with his duffel bag as he headed towards the door. You sigh upon hearing the click of the door with Rensuke gone. 
It has been like this for a while now. Spending time together was a rare opportunity and even if you did it was different from how close you were to him. Conversations had merely turned into sounds of approval or discontent rather than talking. 
Silence was all there was. Not to mention the fact that he was not taking care of himself, overworking himself at the gym and not having the appetite that a regular footballer should have. Getting up from the couch you decided to follow him to practice one day, watching him from the bleachers. 
“Kunigami! Pass!” his teammate waved as Rensuke spun the ball on his left foot to tackle the opponent, only to be thrown on the ground in surprise as he felt an ache and a trickle of blood down his foot from the movement of the opponent. Lifting his head he was surprised to see a puncture on his skin, the red liquid flowing and a reddened area that would no doubt swell as time passed. 
Medics rushed to the scene, bandaging his leg while the coach wore a grim expression but tried to maintain his calmness. “Give it time kiddo. You’ll be good in four days.” he said, giving him a pat on the back. “Hit the showers.” 
Kunigami sat on the bench of the locker room, staring at the ground interrupted by the sound of the opening of the door, hands holding the large brown package. 
“Rensuke…” you called out, watching his bare back while the towel covered him and another was draped over his shoulders. Turning around to face you with a clenched jaw, his eyes seemed feral and dangerous. 
“What are you doing here?” 
“I…” words failed you as you held the large package in front of you. 
“Did you… How long have you been there?” he asked, getting up from the bench and walking towards you with a limp. “Doesn’t matter… get dressed and I’ll drop you home.” you said with a nervous smile as his intimidating figure stood inches away from you. Peering into the bag he saw an assortment of tablets, protein pellets, a gel pack, other medical and vitamin supplements. 
“You looking down on me?” he snarled. 
“Huh…?” 
“You think I’m pathetic?” 
“What? Rensuke… What are you…?” you asked, as he grabbed the bag out of your hands. 
“Protein supplements.” he said, throwing the box out of the package onto the floor. “Gauze.” 
“Disinfectant.” 
“Bandaids.” 
“More pre workout.” 
“Gel pack.” he said as he kept throwing out the items in the bag onto the floor. 
“Do I seem that pathetic to you?” he asked, ripping the brown cover into shreds as they fell to the floor. Trying to hold in your tears, you swallowed with a deep breath. 
“I am just trying to help you, Suke… You haven’t been taking care of yourself lately. The only thing you do is dash out of the house and I’m worried about you. You look like you haven’t slept in days and I’m concerned about you.” you answered, fingers reaching towards his face only to have it smacked away in anger.
“Are we playing fucking house?” he retorted, laughing a humorless laugh. “I don’t need someone to tell me that I'm not doing fine. You know what you are?” he asked, face coming close to yours. “You’re an eyesore. So… do me a favor and stay out of my way. Get the fuck out of my sight.” he said, walking away from you towards the lockers. Letting your tears fall to the ground you felt your legs shake as you bit your lip. 
“If that’s what makes you happy.” you said, opening the doors to leave, not daring to look back.
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gbhbl · 4 months
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Horror Movie Review: The Cult of Humpty Dumpty (2022)
Guess whose back? Back again. Humpty’s back. Tell a friend. Or don’t, as they may not thank you for it.
Guess whose back? Back again. Humpty’s back. Tell a friend. Or don’t, as they may not thank you for it. Directed by Jack E. Bell, with a story by Sam Ashurst and Scott Chambers, The Cult of Humpty Dumpty is the sequel to 2021’s The Curse of Humpty Dumpty. A Jagged Edge Production film that turned out to be pretty good. So good, that this sequel was something to look forward to, which isn’t always…
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64yrsold · 10 months
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ACHES 4. cold
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18+ (please see masterlist for cw) aches masterlist previous (3)
I walked home, his credit card making my purse feel ten pounds heavier. He was probably buying a coffee now, patting his pockets and panicking, where’s my fucking credit card! He’d think I stole it, and call off our date. 
I guess I had stolen it.
The guilt crawled up my throat, lumping there, and remaining there until I opened my apartment door, grabbing my phone and calling “Matthew (HOT)”.
It rang twice, and I winced, nearly hanging up.
Then, “Hello, darling.”
My face broke open into a cheesy grin, and I smothered my mouth with my hand.
“Hi,” I murmured, feeling like a teenager with a crush. I swallowed, trying to find my footing.
“Everything okay?” he asked, more concerned than annoyed. But probably annoyed.
“Yes, um, I just wanted to let you know that I do have your credit card.”
“Oh, alright. You keeping it?” 
I giggled, “No, you forgot it at the bar. I picked it up from Jenna this afternoon.”
“Right, thanks for doing that, sweetheart,” he said, and I nearly curled into the phone, wanting to sleep inside the sound of his voice.
“No problem,” I managed, feeling shy suddenly.
“Is dinner still on?” he asked, followed by the sound of a lighter. I could taste the smoke on his lips. 
“Sure,” I smiled, “You can pick me up at seven, if that’s okay.”
“Yes, that’s okay,” he laughed at my polite word choice, “Send me your address? I won’t be late.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he exhaled quickly, “See you soon.”
“See you soon.” I hung up before he could say anything else, jittery from my overactive heartbeat. I tossed my phone on the couch, waltzing over to the bathroom to take a shower. A shower could fix anything. A worldwide thinking place, a place for peaceful contemplation. A place to retrieve memories, I hoped.
The water hissed against the white plastic floor, the cold spray tickling my ankles. I shampooed, scrubbed, and rinsed, the taste of tobacco circling my tongue. His jaw, in the orange light, tense and throwing jagged shadows. His long fingers, a cigarette dwindling between them, brushing his lips as he smoked. A puffy cloud of gray, and a toothy, lopsided smile. His mouth is moving, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. The memory dissipates like his cigarette smoke, leaving me sighing as it slips from me.
I hopped out of the shower, drying off and putting on my robe, staring into the mirror a little too long. I put on my moisturizer, running two fingers down my neck, along my pulse. There were no hickeys, no sore spots, no odd bruises anywhere. I was almost certain I had slept with him, though. Especially from how attached I felt to him, and the dull ache behind my heart that told me I missed him. And he was handsome.
For the rest of the afternoon, I slowly put on my makeup, spending more time listening to music than actually applying the products. I picked an outfit carefully, something cuter than yesterday’s casual t-shirt and jeans. I wondered where he was taking me. I tugged out a black dress, medium-length, flattering but not too revealing. It seemed safe and normal.
Fully dressed and ready to go, I sat on the edge of my couch, clutching my phone. I was always ready too early, and usually spent thirty minutes or so stiffly waiting on the couch, unable to relax or do anything but wait. 
My phone buzzed in my hand, his name bright on the screen. I had changed his name to just “Matty”. 
“Hi Matty,” I answered, standing and pacing around my coffee table.
“Hi,” he replied, “I’m downstairs. Should I come up?”
“No, it’s okay, I’ll be right down.”
“Okay, I’ll be here.”
I ended the call, leaving my apartment and loudly heading down the stairs. When I exited my building, I saw him in front of some angular black SUV, leaning against the door. His hair was different, gelled back, with a lonely curl slipping over his forehead. He crossed his arms over another white button down, a tie loose around his neck. He wore the same heavy coat, a bold, black silhouette.
As soon as he saw me, he stepped forward, a line between his eyebrows. His jacket was off in one smooth movement, and he wrapped me in it tenderly.
“Cold, darling?” he asked, rubbing my shoulders briskly.
I must have been blushing bright red. 
“No, I’m alright,” I lied, embarrassed I had forgotten to wear a jacket in my rush to get downstairs.
“You look fantastic,” he murmured, “Beautiful.” 
“You too,” I said, throat dry. He smiled. He stepped back, opening the door for me.
“It’s not too far from here. Can I keep it a surprise?” He watched me climb into the car, lingering at the door to wait for my answer.
“Sure,” I nodded, “I love surprises.”
“Okay,” he grinned, satisfied, and shut the door.
-> next (5)
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altraviolet · 2 months
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TEG: Megatronus-Soundwave fight detail
hello hello!
while rereading/editing TEG I remembered a detail that I had put in, which no one has ever commented about. I never drew attention to it though I think I meant to circle back to it towards the end... but maybe it can be sequel fodder.
Spoilers for TEG! 👇
the detail mentioned above ties into a slightly longer discussion of how Megatronus damaged Soundwave during their fight in Ch 11, which is something I've always wanted to do a mini commentary on
the specific body parts Megatronus chooses to destroy are done in a purposeful order
once Megatronus has gotten SW to the floor of the arena, in a position where he can't defend himself, he tells SW to yield. After every damaging blow, he offers SW the yield. but SW refuses.
after the first refusal, Megatronus goes for an eye:
Megatronus brought his fist down on Soundwave's left eye. It shattered, spewing blue. “Augh!” Soundwave's vision halved. The edges of Megatronus's sneering face and the arena above glitched in purple.
Side note: I debated structuring the fic around SW only having one eye the whole time in a way the reader wouldn't notice until a reread, and part of that being that his vision included purple glitches, but ended up discarding that idea.
Megatronus asks SW to yield. SW refuses. So he crushes SW's throat:
He shoved Soundwave's collar plating aside and gripped his throat, crushing its cords. “Yield!”
And this was the little detail I'd meant to flesh out in the fic: that SW's unique voice is due to the damage he sustained at this moment. in TFP we see characters talk about how their body parts can't be replaced. heck Bumblebee uses radio to express himself for the very reason that his voice is busted. so this fits with canon and is an additional explanation for why SW repeats others' voices rather than use his own, and moreso, when he does use it, it sounds strange to others (rainbowy/many harmonics/echoing).
but alas, I forgot to seed little inquiries about it to make it A Thing, and then to put the reveal in the Epilogue where SW shows Rodimus his face. it woulda been a nice thing to include, but I feel like putting it in now would be cheating, lol. but! I will learn from this experience and make sure to keep careful track of details like this in future work
[though, perhaps, it is better for SW's vocalizations to be purely the product of his personality, and not partially due to physical damage (????) a debate for scholars, not me, lol]
back to the arena. even with an eye crushed and his voice box destroyed, SW refuses to yield, so Megatronus goes for his face. SW is a vain, self-centered gladiator, so damaging his face and ruining his beautiful biolights is quite a nasty move:
Scraps of serrated metal sprang from Megatronus's fist like knives. He slashed Soundwave's face, severing the biolights in his cheek. They spurted fluid and flickered. Their light went out. “Augh!!” Soundwave had never felt deactivated biolights before. The pain was excruciating, even worse than the broken eye and the tentacles being ground into the arena floor.
side note: this bit is why SW reacts to Mirage disarming Skywarp in a far future chapter- Skywarp's knuckles extend jagged blades and our point of view character, Rodimus, notes that SW's shudder is the only reaction he has to Skywarp being disarmed. SW is remembering back to this time, when such weapons were used on him
the conversation then goes like this:
“Yield!” “No!” “Yield, or you will never fight in this arena again!” “No!” “Very well.” Megatronus snarled and gripped the base of the primary tentacle. He squeezed it between his fingers. With a roar, he ripped it out of Soundwave's frame. Soundwave screamed.
Megatronus gives SW many chances to yield before permanently disfiguring him and destroying his special ability. SW is incredibly stubborn and thinks he is superior, so he repeatedly refuses. he only yields when the most precious, important part of him has been taken away. He can't bear to lose another tentacle.
so there we go! wanted to note those things down somewhere. they'll probably go in the Compendium =)
thanks for reading!
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