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vide0-nasties · 11 months

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Going to be rambling insanely about Ghost and probably what his feelings on the monarchy would be, coming from one deeply damaged povo to another.

Anyway, specifically around the time the parasite in chief in her idiot hat (thanks Eccleston lub u) died and passed said idiot hat on, I was seeing a lot of (fun and gentle-ribbing, mind you!) posts about Ghost getting razzed about the queen croaking and maybe him being sad about it or something - I don’t really remember bc I have shit for brains and I just latch onto what bits my adhd will allow.

SO. I really don’t think Bruv Innit gave two shits about Liz buying the farm, bc he grew up working class in a working class town to a drug addicted, drug peddling dad, and a fairly nondescript mom who likely didn’t have a way to get her and her kids out of that shit situation (per ‘09 MW lore and some presumption). I imagine dude was dragged around a shitload of council estates and his dad’s friends’ shitty crash pads, no stability whatsoever, where food insecurity was a big ass forever-looming deal, mom had no idea if her 20 year old vauxhall was going to make it another trip to her minimum wage part time job, and school was forever on the back burner bc when it came to school supplies/trips vs eating and keeping the lights on. You can guess which one won.

If we’re also going with him being about 35-40ish, he would’ve been 10-12ish or so around Diana’s divorce and then her death. So, here’s this starving, horrendously abused kid, with his starving, horrendously abused mother and little brother, drowning in a system that is pretty much just letting them sink to the bottom, nothing is being done about the evil sperm donor that ruins everything for them, and he’s obliterated constantly by TV coverage and tabloids and radio DJs talking about this goddamned family’s stupid fucking drama. Charles cheated, Diana left, her poor boys in their fancy private schools with their endless wealth and glowing skin and brand new clothes that don’t stink of consignment shops are sad.

Sorrows - sorrows, prayers. 🫶

It’s a story he’s seen countless times, the only difference is money and coverage. And, realistically, the women in the stories he knows aren’t killed in car wrecks, they’re killed by their infuriated husbands who think they’re owed something catching up. Maybe that’s why his mom doesn’t leave the cocksucker that trapped her, she could’ve ended up another council house Diana that no one gave a shit about.

He grows up, becomes a butcher’s apprentice, joins the army. Straightens his brother out, makes sure his mom is set up nice, finally beats the shit out of his dad. And all the while, there looms the most fucking pointless, parasitic family in England: living off taxes taken from the public, god knows how much land and how many castles, even owning all the fucking swans on the island.

Relics, vampires, leeches.

But, you know, twenty years down the road, he’s pushing 40, his services to the country are done in the dark, the family he tried so badly to save were brutally cut down anyway, and when he goes to Tesco, the price of a fifth of piss Smirnoff is insane, and he’s still got Soap swimming in his head mid-rant bc his mam’s fucking knee replacement appeal has been denied for the third time and she can’t even walk anymore, Gaz is moving for the second time in a year bc he just can’t afford to live close to his parents even on his salary, meanwhile there was a stretch where it looked like Philip was surviving solely by being pumped full of virgin blood and straight stem cells.

So, yeah, if anything he probably said cheers when the news broke and cracked a couple extra jokes that day.

“What d’you call one dead Windsor? A good start.”

Edit: This is picking up some traction. @50cal-fullauto-astarion is my CoD blog if you like my Call of Bullshit stuff, this is my main and I don’t really go into CoD here

#simon ghost riley #modern warfare ii #ghost cod #call of duty #mw2 #ghost #I’m mentally ill and I love that he is also mentally ill and probably looks at the monarchy with disgust #if he can vote depending on whether he’s legally dead or not he voted no on brexit #some rando at base is like ‘how can you make a joke like that think about the children they lost their nan’#and he just goes ‘I’ll hunt those little shits for sport’

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alexandthensome · 1 year

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Who You Gonna Call?

Chapter 1: Something Strange DC x DP Fic based off this post

Warnings: Major Character Death, Strong Language, Depictions of Violence

Rating: Mature

Author’s Note: For those who have been waiting for forever I apologize for how long it took me to crank out this one chapter this is my first time writing a Fic so any constructive criticism helps, also thank you soo much for the support ❤️. Update On Chapter 2 of “Who You Gonna Call?” It’s knots done jut need to finish a few final touches should be posted by Friday of Next Week

When you think about it, peace will never be the outcome. Not for him, not anymore.

Not while his Parents lay dead at his feet, not while his sister sobbed helplessly; never again will Danny Fenton ever know a peaceful life.

But he’s okay with that; he’s come to terms with how things stood and knew there wasn’t much left to figure out besides where he will go now.

He never thought he’d have to plan a life without his parents, never suspected that this family vacation would be the last.

Nor did he expect his sister to go from “Annoying Older Sibling.” To “My Only Living Family Member.” in less than a day.

This was inevitable with his line of work, but he never expected his life to be this crazy, at least not so soon.

For him, being half ghost used to feel like a gift, something he could use to help the people he cared about the most. Now it was a curse, a cancerous infection slowly seeping into everything he held close.

Because of his “gift.” everyone and everything he knew was gone, replaced by this empty confusing nothingness, all their hopes and dreams for him nothing more than lost memories.

His parents were gone, taken from him in some brutal twist of fate by some psychopathic clown they call “The Joker.” to be completely honest, Danny was feeling anger beyond rational thought every time he thought about him.

And the worst part about this was that everything everything that happened was all a ploy, some sort of elaborate trick to lure Batman to his hideout, and The Fenton’s were nothing more than pawns in The Joker’s scheme to kill him.

Not only did he kill his parents, but he did it with a smile as he made Danny watch, laughing at his suffering until he got what he wanted.

Danny was taken to the police station and asked to state what he experienced while begging held hostage by the Joker, but all he could do was stare blankly at the wall.

As he got interviewed by the police, news anchors, and other journalists, all he could think about was how he everyone down. His frustration was building up under the surface, and he felt sick.

“How could I let this happen.” he thought.

His mind raced, his fingers felt numb, his chest heaved as if something was blocking his airway, and he felt like everything around him was closing in. The walls began to spin, and he could feel his throat closing up, tears welling in his eyes.

Jazz noticed his strange behaviour and tried her best to get him to calm him down, but the panic had already set in.

They were alone, he let this happen, and there was nothing he could do to fix this. Nothing at all

Dozens of forced statements later, Danny was drained.

Despite being the “Hero.” he was, he couldn’t help but feel so incredibly useless. They kept asking him the same questions repeatedly until the words melted into nothingness, his brain felt like swiss cheese, and he thought he would pass out at any second.

Jazz had to handle all of the legal proceedings, taking her parent’s estate, medical bills, funeral expenses, and everything else; She was overwhelmed, to say the least.

She had no idea what to do once they were done with the police, they had nowhere to go, and beyond that, they had nobody to help them.

Her head was swimming, and for a split second, she broke; Danny noticed his sister sobbing and went in to hug her.

“I’m sorry this happened, Jazz, really I am. I wish I could trade my life for theirs; I would,” he said, tears streaming down his face.

“Hey, I know this everything is so crazy, but don’t blame yourself for what happened. There’s nothing more you could’ve done, okay?” she replied, rubbing his head to soothe him.

“but I let everyone down. I’m the reason they’re dead; if I don’t do something to avenge them, then-” he said rapidly, beginning to panic again.

“Enough, no more vengeance, no more self-blame. You’re just a kid. Nobody should’ve put that responsibility on you-.” she tried to explain, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

“That doesn’t matter anymore, Jazz. I’m not a kid anymore; I think I need to go for a walk and clear my head,” he said, pushing her off his and heading towards the door.

Jazz called out for him, but he was gone before she could get a word out.

As he walked the streets of Gotham City, he felt angry; at the world and at himself; he even felt anger towards his parents for suggesting this stupid trip. He wanted nothing more than to change the way things are right now, be somewhere different, and do something right for once.

He didn’t know what to do with himself; he walked around aimlessly for what felt like hours, looking for something, anything to do. He needed someone save; he wanted something to fight, anything in the world that would take his mind off things for a second.

all of a sudden, a blue mist leaves his mouth

“Finally.” he thought to himself

He changed into his ghost form quickly, and he waited. The tension in the air is thick, and he slowly looks around, hoping to see whatever is watching him.

“Don’t you know this place isn’t safe after dark?”

Danny looked around, trying to see where the voice came from,

“If I were you, I’d just turn around and head back home.”

“And why should I listen to you, wise and powerful shadow man?” Danny replied sarcastically

suddenly, he saw something jump from the fire escape down to the ground in front of him. He didn’t expect him to make that fall, let alone get up that easily.

He stood there frozen as the figure approached him, wearing a red helmet, a leather jacket, black pants, and a shirt with a red bat.

“I’ve heard of you before; you’re Red Hood, right?” Danny asked nonchalantly, trying to cut the tension of the situation

“In the flesh, and you’re that ghost kid “Phantom.” right?” he replied as he stepped closer to Danny, cornering him into a wall.

“Uh, Yep, in the flesh.” He said with a nervous chuckle

Danny was terrified; after the last couple of days he’s had, he didn’t want to take any chances with any more of the heroes or villains in Gotham.

Red Hood had him backed to a wall, his hand on the right side of Danny’s face.

“What’s your deal anyways, ghost boy? You want to run around being a vigilante, too?” he said, leaning in.

“I-I’ve been a vigilante since the 9th grade,” he stuttered. “And for the record, I don’t need your permission to do anything, so why would you expect me to ask for it?.”

“Because if you don’t, I get to kick your ass and have you arrested for breaking curfew.” He replied

Danny chucked, “finally.”, he thought, “a reason to punch someone in the face.”

“respectfully, I’d like to see you try,” he said, cockiness radiating from his voice.

“fine, it is your funeral.”

@blackrabbitt3t @nedwec @blackstar-gazer @baykitthings @real-danny-phantom @hungrymentor @the-lokes @dizzydreamerzzz @phantom-phrases @sheep567 @lenoryt13 @theauthorandtheartist

@phantomskeep @arc-777 @dreamingasters @betinaplayingwriter @zeldomnyo @jaguarthecat @the-gay-florist @reinluna @gabrielandjackthenephilim @icepopstar5105us @skulld3mort-1fan

@batbootie @that-random-fangirl@cyber-geist@dat1angel@undead-essence@distractedducky@oddessy@dreamingasters@jarlyd@

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impossiblescissorspeachpaper · 1 year

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i’ll follow you anywhere

prompt nine: what if?

I hope everyone has enjoyed Elriel Month- I’ve loved it!! The sheer number and quality of all the content everyone created, shared and loved has been incredible! I love the elriel community so much. I have so many fics to still catch up on so if you have any I missed, please let me know! Many are already on the tbr :).

I’ll also be putting up a little EM Masterlist soon for anyone that missed any of my fics and would like to catch up 🥰

So, something a little different for this prompt. Sometimes, during moments of agony, it helps to go to another place and make up stories. This story was born from one such time when I was struggling through my own spin class. It’s trashy, enjoy 💚

*******

Angel Face was back.

She’d just walked in, scanning her tag at the front desk, offering the muscle clad guy behind the reception desk a dazzling smile. He truly did look dazed, his eyes following her curvy form all the way across the gym to where the lockers were.

Azriel glowered. He wanted to go and punch him in the face for staring at her like that. Not that he could talk, or blame him. Angel Face in form fitting workout tights threatened to send grown men to their knees.

Him. He was grown men. It threatened to send him to his knees.

Every time he caught sight of her at the gym, Azriel lost IQ points. His brain turned to marshmallow in her presence. He couldn’t help it.

He'd been coming to this gym for years with Rhys and Cass. It was central to all of their apartment blocks, clean enough, and had all the equipment they needed. Five and a half months ago, though, Angel Face had walked in for the first time.

He had no idea who she was, where she had come from, what her name was. But she was fucking beautiful. She had the shiniest hair he had ever seen, and her eyes, God. Her eyes! If he could dive into them and swim forever, he would. And she always smiled. She had an air about her that was so…warm. He could just tell she was warm. She was like the fucking sun, and he couldn’t help but bend toward her light.

At first, she had started coming alone, her AirPods visible in her ears when she tied her hair up in that high ponytail that knotted his stomach and did salacious things to his thoughts. That ponytail made him want to run his tongue over every inch of her body and see what part produced the sweetest sounds.

But she had since made a couple friends, of course she had. Who wouldn’t be drawn to her? She was the fucking sun.

Azriel watched her greeting those friends with a bright smile, her head tilted back in laughter as the twins she had started working out with conversed with her across the massive floor.

It was 5:45pm, which meant Angel Face had come in for a class. Whenever he saw her here in the evening, it was always for one of the classes taken up on the mezzanine floor of the gym.

“Az. AZRIEL! Earth to fucking Azriel!!” Cassian’s voice broke his little hopeless bubble of lust.

Azriel startled, tearing his eyes reluctantly off the brunette beauty, remembering he was supposed to be counting Cassian’s reps. “Yeah, twelve. Good job.”

Cassian huffed out a final rep. “Don’t act like you were paying attention to me you prick. I’ve been bench pressing for at least four minutes. Twelve reps my fucking ass. Worst spotter ever,” Cassian grumbled, placing the barbell back on the hooks himself and sitting up from the bench he was supine on.

“You should have known better brother,” Rhys grinned from the neighbouring bench, a set of heavy dumbbells gripped in his fists as he finished his set of chest flys.

“Wifey just walked in,” he finished, his face split with a shit eating grin, violet eyes sparkling.

Cassian followed Rhys’ gaze until he spotted the object of Azriel’s attention, her long golden-brown hair flowing down her back in soft waves, clad in a cute powder blue crop and tights set.

“Oh my god,” Cassian lamented with a long-suffering eyeroll, “stop being a pussy and just go talk to her. Put us all out of our misery.”

Azriel finally peeled his eyes away from Angel Face, reluctantly turning to his brothers beside him. Cassian’s look of annoyance overshadowed by Rhys’ utter fucking glee. Even though he encouraged others to stay out of business that wasn’t theirs, Rhys was the captain of the meddler ship.

“Women don’t come to the gym to be hit on Cass. That’s fucking creepy,” Az retorted. As he had many times before.

“And you staring daggers at her fucking ass isn’t?” Cassian pointed a thick finger in his face, his mouth tilting up in a crooked smile.

“If you don’t go over there, I fucking will.” He’d fucking do it too. Bastard.

Azriel wasn’t sure if Cassian was so perturbed simply because it had been almost six months that Azriel had been quietly obsessing over the gorgeous brunette without making a single move, or, if he just wanted his spotter back. He took chest day very seriously.

Azriel simply stood rooted to the spot, going through every scenario possible; talk to her and possibly come off as a gym creep, or never talk to her and live with that regret forever.

Women really hated being hit on at the gym, didn’t they? But then, what was he going to do, pine after her forever? And it would be forever because he was certain he’d never find another like Angel Face.

It didn’t seem like such a bad idea, pining. Except the thought of never knowing her name would haunt Azriel for eternity.

He could offer to help her with her workout? No, that was even creepier. He could walk past and smile, that shouldn’t be too hard. She might strike up a conversation with him, she seemed friendly and outgoing enough. But what if she didn’t?

Fuck. Why was he acting like a scared teenager? Go, Azriel. Go and fucking talk to her, you pussy. Put one motherfucking foot in front of the other and go.

“Do you think he short circuited?” he heard Rhys murmur from behind him.

“Either that, or fantasy has taken over reality and he’s half-way through fucking her brains out in the locker room in his mind,” Cassian answered without missing a beat.

“I can fucking hear you, assholes,” Azriel shot over his shoulder, still not taking his eyes off the side of Angel Face’s profile as she milled about the bottom of the stairs, waiting for her class to start.

“Oh good,” Rhys drawled, “we haven’t lost him completely.”

Just then, the group fitness instructor came waltzing out in lycra bike shorts and tank top, her headset hooked around her neck as she greeted her class. The group followed, ascending the stairs onto the mezzanine floor, taking their places for their class.

Angel Face started heading up, still animatedly laughing with her friends, her delicate hand resting on the banister as she followed the group.

“Ahhh. Too late bro, maybe next time,” Cassian mocked behind him, knowing very well that it was just another example of when Azriel had not gone over to talk to the woman he’d been lusting over for months.

Fuck. Azriel exhaled harshly, running a scarred hand through his hair. It’s not that hard!

Before he could change his mind, Azriel grabbed his water bottle off the floor and jogged over to the bottom of the stairs where the latecomers were still piling into the group fitness room.

“Oh, so now you decide to make a move?” He heard Cassian squawk behind him, his arms splayed about wide as his voice boomed across the gym floor “Az! Who’s gonna spot my next set?”

“You’ve got tweedle dum right there,” Azriel retorted, spinning to face his brothers as he jogged backwards, pointing a scarred finger at Rhys. His brother’s violet eyes glimmered as he laughed at the quip.

Darting up the stairs to the group fitness room Azriel halted suddenly as he came face to face with a room full of stationary bikes. Fuck. Spin class?

Turning desperately to his brothers for help, a look of utter horror on his face, he was only met with their smug fucking expressions, challenging him silently from the level below. He couldn’t back down now. Fucking spin class.

Wandering into the room cluelessly, he spotted Angel Face in the third row, slowly rotating her legs, her feet already strapped into the pedals, the bike to her left still unoccupied. Here goes fucking nothing.

Striding over to the bike, he placed his water bottle in the holder and sat down, and immediately leapt back off. What the fuck was up with this seat?! Was it supposed to be this uncomfortable? And his knees knocked painfully into the handlebars. He groaned. He did not belong here.

“You’re tall, you’ll need to adjust your position.”

The voice that spoke was silken and soft, like a breeze dancing across the delicate petals of a rose. It melted his insides whilst simultaneously igniting them, if that were possible.

Snapping his face to the right, he was pretty sure he looked deranged. His mouth was agape, flapping noiselessly like a fucking fish out of water.

Holy fuck. Angel Face also had an Angel Voice.

She was so stunning up close. Her eyes were like molten chocolate. She had the prettiest nose. He spotted a little beauty mark under her left eye, high on her cheek bone that he had never been close enough to see before. Marry me.

Realising his mouth was still hanging open like an imbecile he snapped his jaw shut, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Yeah. Right.”

Climbing back off the bike he stood beside it, eyeing off all the knobs and levers. He yanked what he thought would adjust his seat height. Nothing happened. Fuck. Maybe he should just walk back out. Why was this was so fucking awkward.

“Twist it first, then pull.”

Azriel gulped. She didn’t mean it to be sexual, she didn’t mean it to be sexual. Don’t make it weird, you fucking bastard.

Following her instructions, the seat eased and allowed him to adjust the height.

“It should reach your hip bone, keep going,” she assisted from beside him. “You might want to pull it back, away from the handlebars too.

Azriel just nodded, eyes roving over the frame of the bike.

“That lever there,” she pointed, “flick it to the right and slide the seat back,” she supplied with a smile, sensing he was lost.

Azriel swallowed. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” she replied, her smile blinding him with the light she emanated around her.

Fuck she was so beautiful. He couldn’t help but stare. He also knew he was making this interaction anything but normal. Say something. Say something and stop making it weird. JUST. SAY. ANYTHING.

“Azriel.”

Oh my god, did he just blurt out his name like that? That wasn’t even a sentence. SHE DIDN’T ASK!! Abort! Abort!

Alarms went off in his mind, but he schooled his face into one that he hoped conveyed a cool, calm demeanour. He was sure he just looked like a blubbering fucking idiot.

Angel Face just looked back at him, mildly perplexed, her perfect brows knitted together delicately.

He cleared his throat again. “I’m Azriel. That’s my name.”

Holy fuuuuuck dude just shut up!

She smiled back at him kindly. “I’m Elain. It’s nice to meet you, Azriel.”

Azriel’s mind went utterly blank. He was pretty sure he looked mentally deranged right now but how could he possibly function like a normal human being when Angel Face— Elain— had just uttered his name for the first time ever. So casually. Azriel. Like it belonged on her lips. Like she had wrapped her tongue around the L many times before. He couldn’t wait to hear her say it again. He wanted her to say it for the rest of his life.

Just then, the instructors voice boomed across the room, having hooked up her mic to the speakers. Taking a seat back on his bike, Azriel winced.

The bike seat truly was the fucking worst, it felt like it was making its home way too high up his ass. And he felt too big to be allowed, leaning like that towards the handlebars. Were they supposed to be so low? But he was here now, and he was doing this… the shit you do for love.

Fifteen minutes later, Azriel was in agony. Sweat was dripping down his back, and the bike seat had truly set up camp in between his ass cheeks.

Elain barely looked like she had broken a sweat. She was still smiling, somehow still able to sing along to the songs the instructor played at some points.

Another thirty minutes later and Azriel was straight up dying. He was certain blood had been cut off to his nuts, surely rendering him infertile.

Bye-bye kids, the family jewels were crushed when daddy went chasing after mommy. His breathing also rattled embarrassingly. Fuck, he really needed to work on his cardio.

Elain on the other hand looked radiant. She didn’t sweat, she sparkled. She fucking glistened and looked like the blinding sun after a storm. He looked like the storm. A drowned rat in the storm. That couldn’t breathe. Holy fuck, how did she do this three times a week?

“Good job everyone, up off your bikes and stretch it out!”

The fitness instructor looked way too fucking chipper for someone that had just conducted a forty-five-minute torture session. Azriel’s eyes threw daggers at her as he unstrapped his feet from the pedals and gingerly stood up on shaky legs. His ass felt violated. That was gonna hurt tomorrow.

Grabbing his ankle, he tucked his foot up toward his behind, stretching out his quad, the pull causing a slight wince.

“It’s always hard the first few times,” came Elain’s kind voice from besides him, one foot hooked on the bike seat as she leaned forward to stretch out her hamstring. She bent over her outstretched leg, her body lithe and strong. Her cheeks were delicately flushed from her exertions, her chest glistening beneath a thin layer of sweat. He was going to burst at the seams.

“I admit, I didn’t think it was going to be that hard.” Good job Az. Finally, a full sentence. Albeit a slightly pompous one, but a full one all the same.

Elain chuckled. “Men never do.”

Azriel’s face fell. Fuck, she thought he was a pig. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Oh! No! that’s not what I meant, only that— I just assumed. Fuck.” A scarred hand ran through his hair, tugging at the ends as his mind scrambled for the words to make it better.

Elain just laughed again, that light, breezy laugh fluttering over his anxiety.

“I’m just teasing,” she continued with a mischievous smile, her eyes lighting up with mirth as she reached for her towel and water bottle, preparing to head out.

Panic clawed at his chest; he couldn’t let her get away. Not yet. He’d barely spoken to her.

“I’ll see you around, then?” He blurted, throwing the question out desperately, like a buoy uselessly floating in the roughest of seas.

Elain glanced at him over her shoulder, her big brown doe eyes wide, a sparkle winking in them like she had a secret.

“I hope so. Have a nice evening, Azriel.”

Her lips lifted into an adorable, crooked little smile before he watched her turn around and walk out of the class. Her svelte curves swayed deliciously, the light sheen of sweat across her skin only adding to her ethereal glow.

I hope so.

She hoped to see him around.

He smiled. It was worth it. The last forty-five fucking minutes was worth it. She now knew he existed.

I hope so.

Azriel was on cloud fucking nine.

Rhys was finishing his last three reps when Azriel floated back over to them. Literally floated.

Cassian nudged his brother, nodding his head in Azriel’s direction, and Rhys sat up, both watching their quietest brother make his way back over to them.

Azriel’s hair was dishevelled, beads of sweat running down his temples and his tank top was drenched. Absolutely fucking drenched. But the bastards’ face the epitome of wistful bliss as he wandered over to them at the squat racks where they had continued working out.

Noting his dopey expression, Cassian gave Rhys a disbelieving look, pointing a thumb at Az as he asked, “Do you think she blew him in the locker room?”

Rhys snorted, face lined with mock concern, and waved a hand in front of Azriel’s glassy eyes.

“Honestly, it looks more like he’s been lobotomised. Maybe Angel Face is a neurosurgeon from 1941?”

They only knew Az’s girl as Angel Face, since that’s what he always sighed when she appeared at the gym. The hold this girl had on his brother was something else. It was kind of cute though, he’d never thought Azriel would be the kind of guy to be down so bad.

“Fuck you guys,” Azriel retorted, but it had no bite, a goofy grin spreading across his face. Cassian had never seen him so…giddy. It was fucking hilarious.

“Did you ask her out, then?” Cassian prodded, growing impatient and needing to know what had happened.

“Her name is Elain,” Azriel stated, like it was the most important thing in the world. This fool was truly on another planet right now.

“And?” Rhys prompted, hoping for something juicier than her name.

“And she said she hopes she sees me around.”

Cassian and Rhys both groaned, turning back to their workout, clearly resigned to the fact that they won’t be getting any exciting news today.

Azriel just smiled.

*******

Elriel month tag list:

@waternymphia

@shedoessoshedoes

@nightcourtseer

@tealeaves-and-rosepetals

@jasmineandshadows

@zdenkah

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@casuallivi

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@nivem565

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@elriel-month

#elriel month 2023 #t writes #elriel #acotar #elain archeron #azriel #elriel month #elain x azriel #elriel fic #acotar fanfiction #elriel modern au

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teetlestansecond · 1 year

Note

yay requests!! can I request the turtles and April with a sick reader? I've been sick the last few days and I'm pretty sure your hcs are as good as medicine!

oh bestie same i feel like my brain has been dripping out from my nose 😭😭 i hope we both start feeling better soon!!

rise turtles + april x sick reader

gn!reader, mild general warning for anyone who doesn't want to read about being sick ♥️

raph! ❤️

mom mode: activated.

you came over to the lab to pick up something you'd left and made the unfortunate mistake of sniffling within earshot of your boyfriend. a fatal mistake, truly.

"are you sick? do you have a fever? you might have a fever come here -"

definitely does the classic "back of the hand to the forehead" to check your temperature, which may not be the most accurate method but he simply couldn't care less.

you're running a temperature anyway, leon confirms it for raph and really that's all he needs. you are swiftly sentenced to staying in bed until you're all better.

raph can be a little overbearing while you're sick, but he means well. he's just worried about you and wants to make sure you're okay.

my boy can't cook, so he convinces mikey to make you soup and definitely feeds it to you.

he also reads to you every time. you let him pick the book because you just like listening to him regardless of what it is he's saying. he makes really solid choices anyway so you trust him to pick something you'll enjoy.

he piles so many blankets and pillows on the bed and you're definitely drowning but you're so so comfy.

raph checks your temperature and makes sure you take your medicine on a tight schedule, and it amuses you to no end - unless you were sleeping and got woken up so you could take your medicine. then you're a little grumpy, but raph will insist that it was necessary and cuddle you back to sleep.

speaking of cuddles, he's the one that cuddles with you the entire time you're sick and ends up catching your cold, but lucky for raph you're more than happy to return the favor and take care of him.

donnie! 💜

donnie is not a fan of dealing with people when they're sick, but he loves you so he's worked out a system.

if he thinks you're sick, he'll make his own assessment and come up with the least likely situation possible.

"yep, as i suspected, brain-eating amoeba. have you been swimming in untreated water lately?"

this is very intentional on his part, because you always huff and roll your eyes and go to leon so he can confirm that you have a simple cold.

donnie knows that he can't make you go see leon, so he always comes up with a wild diagnosis to trick you into going on your own to prove him wrong.

once you get your cold diagnosis, donnie pretty much confines you to the lab before anyone else in the lair catches a cold from you. he's got a very cozy futon in there and he keeps it cool in the lab so it's more comfortable than being in a warmer space.

like raph, donnie is also a stickler about making sure you take your medicine on time, but he won't wake you up if you're sleeping. he figures rest is medicine in its own right.

he pretends to not be hovering but he's hovering. he pretends to work on a project but he's really just watching you throughout the day, making sure you're doing alright and all. it's very sweet but he'll deny it forever if you call him out on it.

in spite of the fact that he made you quarantine to keep everyone from getting sick, he ends up getting sick himself because he stayed with you the whole time and didn't think to wear any sort of protective gear.

leon! 💙

is there a doctor in the house? there is and he's onto you the moment you come into the lair.

leon is the best when it comes to dealing with sick people in general, and he's ten times better with you as his s/o.

immediately takes you to his room and has you settle down for a little while while he gets some medicine and soup for you.

leon can cook thirteen dishes really well and that's it. everything else is a guaranteed disaster. one of those thirteen dishes is egg drop soup, and he'll make you a whole bunch to get you through the next few days.

he makes you a lot of medicinal teas, too. leon especially favors ginger tea to help soothe your throat.

he'll keep you in his room for the day, but he'll walk you home at night in one disguise or another. you complain that he could portal you home, or let you stay the night, but he reasons that movement is good for you.

he'll walk you home at night and show up in the morning to walk you back to the lair throughout the duration of your cold to keep you moving.

while you're in the lair, leon will entertain you with movies or, on at least one occasion, a ten-hour vine compilation he may or may not have made himself. he does not care that it's 2023 he's still living in the golden days of vine.

he just wants to keep your spirits up while you're sick so he's twice as silly as usual.

also gets sick after you because he spent every day of your cold cuddling, but while he handled your cold like a champ he acts like his cold is going to kill him.

mikey! 🧡

as the baby of the family, mikey knows how it can be getting smothered half to death when you're sick. he doesn't want to do the same to you, but he wants to take care of you, so he finds a balance.

when he finds out you're sick, he insists that you stay home and promises to come over in a couple of hours to check on you.

he uses those couple of hours to make you some soup and a few of your favorite snacks and dishes, then forces leon to help him pick the best teas for colds and flus. he grabs a few art supplies and games too, wanting to keep you entertained.

he stays at your place the whole time you're sick, and while he's not really a medic he makes a great caretaker in your opinion.

he trusts you to make decisions about how often you take medicine, and while he suggests things here and there he largely makes your own decisions while you're recovering.

he'll share his games or offer you some of his art supplies, just so you have something to keep your mind busy with.

as much as he wants to give you the space to do your own thing, he's very affectionate when you're sick and will be getting as much cuddle action as he can. this is the one thing he insists upon and he tells you that it'll help you feel better faster. you're not sure about the science behind that but it's not like the cuddles bother you anyway.

mikey will tidy up your room whenever you're sick because he also claims that it'll help you recover. again, you're not sure how true that is, but you think it's very sweet and you can admit that the cleaner space kinda does make you feel better.

mikey takes proper precautions when you're sick and is the only one who doesn't catch a cold from you.

april! 💚

april absolutely hates being around people when they're sick, but she's made an exception for you.

when she finds out you're sick, she comes over with all your favorite junk food, her mother's famous soup, and plenty of medicine.

like mikey, she just stays at your place the whole time, but she keeps her distance and won't actually get on the bed with you.

you guys tend to just do your own things together, but she will keep an eye on you and asks you how you're doing every couple of hours.

she also cleans up when you're sick, but it's a part of her effort to keep herself from getting sick in the process.

april won't give you a lot of affection, but she will bring you one of her favorite stuffed animals to cuddle with and promises to give you plenty of kisses once you're all better.

"consider it an incentive to heal up faster."

does it work? maybe so.

she does keep her promise though, and is super affectionate with you after you get better because she missed it while you were sick.

april doesn't always catch a cold from you, but when she does she's miserable and grumpy about it, but luckily you're there to take care of her.

#we are back in business babey!!! thanks for the request love!#zennie answers!#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt headcanons #rottmnt x reader #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt

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star1117-archives · 2 years

Note

Hi, I'll send through a 'fake title' for your game.

Smut+ Hongjoong+ You're mine, no one can see you like this but me.

Can't wait xx

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞.

➵ Pairing : Hongjoong X Fem!Reader

➵ Genre : Smut

➵ W.C : 1066

➵ Warnings : Virgin!Reader, Praise, Marking, Degradation, Corruption kink, No mentions of protection, Brief nipple play, Dumbification, Possessiveness.

➵ A/N: Under 16’s DNI. Sorry for the long wait!

Hongjoong shushed you quietly as he entered you slowly, rubbing your thigh when you cried out from such a stretch. He pouted his lips at you as you whimpered in his grasp, leaning up so you could cling to him. He chuckled lightly at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek with a small smirk.

“You’re doing so well for me, Princess. Taking my cock so well. Still green?”

Your eyes were watery as you nodded at him, lips parted slightly as you tried not to move too much. You had never felt so full before. Cooing at you almost teasingly, Hongjoong stroked a few hairs out of your face, leaning down to nuzzle your neck and nip lightly at it. Your hands quickly wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer when he easily found your sweet spot. He knew your body like the back of his hand, and he definitely knew just how to push the right buttons. Pressing a kiss to the skin before your ear, his tone was sultry as he whispered into it.

“Tell me when.”

Gulping, you let out a weak ‘yes’ before reaching out for Hongjoong, interlocking fingers while he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. Having him inside of you was like nothing you’d ever felt before, even though the male was extremely talented with his fingers. It was definitely a weird feeling, nothing close to what you had actually expected it to be like. It was definitely an addictive one however, as not long after he’d entered you, you were already nodding at Hongjoong.

“I-… I think I’m r-ready.”

Letting out a hum at your words, Hongjoong adjusted his grip on your hip, his touch firm but not too rough. He pulled himself back a little before thrusting in once again, letting out a pleasured sigh while you shuddered underneath him. Your grip on his hand tightened but before he could question your reaction, you let out a small breath.

“Please Joong.. more..”

The sweet whine in your voice almost made the male shiver, the thought of him being the first to see you like this, quivering for the first time on a cock, it sent his brain into overdrive. He’d stolen something from you, stolen something he’d never be able to return, something that you would always remember forever. He was your first, and he will always be your first.

Such thoughts swirled in Hongjoong’s brain as he set a slow pace, basking in the thought that with every thrust he was corrupting that pure innocence of yours. He had slowly been breaking it down since you’d met, one step at a time, but now it had come crumbling to the ground. As did his resolve.

“God, it’s your first time, yet you’re already a cockhungry whore. I bet my dick is the only thing your stupid little brain has thought about for months.”

Hongjoong’s sudden change had left you dumbfounded, thought his thrusts might’ve also been to blame for that. His words made your head swim, even more than his praise from before. When you didn’t reply however, Hongjoong grabbed you by the chin.

“Colour?”

“G-Green.”

Hongjoong’s grip tightened, the male scoffing when you simply whimpered.

“Of course you are, you dirty little slut.”

Tutting, he let go of your chin so his hand could roam over your body, feeling every single goosebump as his thrusts slightly picked up the pace. Although they weren’t the most powerful ever, he still had your body jolting with each connection, your tummy a whirling mess. When Hongjoong tweaked your nipple, you let out a pleasured mewl, only earning a condescending smile from him.

“See? You’re as dirty as me deep down. I made you like this, made you into my perfect little painslut.”

All you could do was nod at his words, whatever you tried to say coming out as an unintelligible mess. It pleased Hongjoong to see you like this, especially since he’s the first one to ever make you feel this way. When the pleasure almost started to feel too much, the heat pooling in your stomach, you clenched around Hongjoong before closing your eyes, desperately clinging to him. He understood what your actions meant and snapped his hips into you quicker, his thrusts almost haphazard yet still making you see stars. Hongjoong harshly pressed his lips against yours, pulling you into a messy, heated kiss while you moaned onto his mouth.

“Joongie! Oh my g-god! I feel- I- Joong!”

Hongjoong pulled away just as you orgasmed, eyes screwed tight as a plethora of moans fell from your lips. It was all he needed to tip over the edge himself, face buried in your neck as he spilled into you. The sensation of his hot cum filling you was a weird yet surprisingly pleasant one, your body shaking slightly as Hongjoong huffed above you. When he’d finally rode out his high you opened your eyes, now only just feeling the tears on your cheeks. Both of your chests were heaving but a happy grin was on Hongjoong’s face, his hand falling to your stomach as he still rested inside you.

“You’re mine. No one can see you like this but me, right princess?”

You nodded dutifully, earning a kiss from the male. Whining quietly when Hongjoong pulled out of you, you brought a smile to the male’s face yet again. As soon as he flopped down next to you, Hongjoong pulled you close, stroking your hair delicately while he pressed small kisses onto your back.

“Did you like it?”

You let out a tired hum of agreement, pulling the hand that was brushing your hair down to your stomach. Chuckling, Hongjoong encircled your waist with his arm, pulling you flush against his chest. Your eyes were already starting to droop as you pressed a sleepy kiss to Hongjoong’s arm, turning to peck his lips too before speaking up.

“You’ve got yourself into quite the predicament, Kim Hongjoong.”

Raising an eyebrow at you, a small smirk played on the male’s lips.

“Oh really? How?”

You smirked back at him, some of your drowsiness dissipating.

“Well, now that I’ve had a taste of it, I think I’ve become addicted.”

Lust began to pool in Hongjoong’s eyes, his hand starting to snake dangerously low.

“Don’t worry Princess, I’ll satisfy that addiction of yours any time you’d like.”

Send me a fake title !!

·˚ ◌༘₊· ͟͞꒰➳ NSFW Taglist !! ˊˎ-

@agustd-essert @hyuckilstan @a-soft-hornytiny @nyghtwolff-1117 @artemis-in-your-area @violetwinters @katelynnsqueendom @mxrksbxtch @yunhobabygurl @midnightbluesnow7 @itbecina @hwaluvvu @ccarpc @anpanseok @yunhosprettyhand @wooandtaeluvr @mingitheii @vilavixg @the-answer-is-love-yrself @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @taehyunscaramelfrappe @imwhoever @cactusmalassus @mrcarrots @ateezbabysitters @owjohny @meowmeowminnie @cheline @fantasy2wonderland @empiirxn @xuxibelle @dazzlingligth @foreverinlovewithdrawings

Apply for the taglists here -> ꕥ༉‧₊˚.

#the archives ☾❃☽#hongjoong {❁}#requests {✓}#DNI {✘}#smut {♧}#kim hongjoong #hongjoong smut #hongjoong #ateez #ateez smut

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silverwings22 · 1 month

Text

Song of the Sea: Chapter 25: About Us

Chapter warnings: tentacle porn. That's it. If you've read this far, you knew what you were getting into. Series Warnings: explicit smut, alien anatomy (it's a monsterfucker fic, guys), major character injury, grief, canon typical violence, autistic meltdowns, and my terrible attempts at Mando'a

Previous chapter

Next Chapter:

The ship was empty when Shiani woke up from her couple day nap, the rest of the Batch at the bar and Tech staying behind to keep vigil over his siren while she’d been healing. She yawned sleepily and looked down from the bunk, her wakening unnoticed as he worked at something on his datapad. She liked watching him work, forever fascinated with the sure way he moved and the adorable scrunch of his nose when he was concentrating. She might have watched for hours, if she hadn’t woken up with a question buzzing around her brain. Maybe it was because they’d seen Crosshair on Kamino, that her brain kept circling back to it.

“Tech?"

He looked up immediately, smiling when he saw her smile up above him like a star peeking through cloud cover. He immediately got to his feet and came to the side of the bed. "Yes, cyar'ika?"

She propped herself up on one elbow, looking at him thoughtfully for a moment. Even in just his blacks, he looked like the weight of the galaxy was sitting on his shoulders. “Do you remember what Crosshair said about you and me on Bracca?”

His face turned red immediately. "That is rather difficult to forget."

"You never explained what he meant." Shiani sat up, waving for him to come closer. Theirs was a top bunk, so when he shuffled to her his head was even with her knees. She leaned down and cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at her when he'd rather keep his head down. "Will you tell me now?"

Tech sighed, leaning into her touch slowly. "I do not wish to make you uncomfortable."

"I’ll be fine." She shifted her grip to pet his hair lightly. “But he’s still with the Empire. I don’t want anything he knows about you to ever be used as a weapon against you again.”

"Crosshair was referring to… an old conversation. One we had while somewhat intoxicated." He mumbled, eyes sliding to the side

"You’re embarrassed." She said knowingly. She knew he’d somehow mentioned to his brother than he wanted to sleep with her before they’d gotten together, but the specifics of the conversation he seemed to avoid at all costs.

"Yes. It is… highly uncomfortable to have my brother bring up a drunken sexual fantasy in front of anyone else. Particularly you, my partner.” He shook his head faintly. "That was something you and I should have been able to discuss on our own."

"Would you ever have told me if I didn’t ask?" Shiani leaned over a little further to kiss Tech's forehead.

"... Most likely." He sighed. "But certainly not this early in our relationship…"

"You think I’d… what did he say back then? Swim away?" She chuckled. “You don’t ever have to be afraid of that.”

Tech leaned his head on her knee. "I cannot help it."

"Why?"

"What Crosshair was talking about… may be a bit more deviant than you are willing to deal with. You are from a relatively conservative culture-"

"That I left." She reminded him. “Twice, if you consider the exile and the fight with Kashae.”

"It is also outside of the traditional sphere of masculinity. I cannot stand the idea that you would think less of me."

"I would never. You’re the bravest man I know. Now come up here and snuggle with me, we’ll figure it out." She encouraged him, scooting over so he could kick off his boots and climb into the bunk. He laid on his back and she settled on top of him, arms crossed over his stomach with her chin resting on them. "Sometimes the fact that you only have one heart amazes me. I can feel it pounding." Her observation was soft-spoken, but he flinched.

"Yes."

"It's okay. It’s just me, don’t be nervous. It’s not like we’ve never made love before."

Tech's mouth was dry as Tattooine as he looked at her. "Easier said than done, mesh'la."

She smiled. "Everything is."

He fidgeted under her for a moment before turning his eyes to a section of paneling above them. Eye contact was difficult at the best of times, right now it felt impossible. "What Crosshair was referring to is an… interest in additional forms of stimulus during sexual contact. Specifically stimulation of the prostate."

Shiani rolled back her memory to the human anatomy scans she'd spent forever looking at during her assisting him with his brain scanner. Prostate… "Oh! I know what that is. Only in males."

Tech turned another shade redder. "Y-yes… he was specifically referring to the fact you have additional appendages that could be used for that purpose…"

She cocked her head to the side, like he'd make more sense to her at a 45° angle. "That’s what he meant by my tentacles?"

"It is perfectly reasonable for you to have no interest in something so out of the ordinary-" A clawed fingertip pressing to his lips shut him up.

"Tech. To me, you are an alien. Everything we do is out of the ordinary." Her smile was sweet, not a trace of judgment in her eyes when he finally made himself meet them. "If that's what you want, we can try. If we don't like it, we stop. I know you, you’re a scientist. Your brain will never let it go until you give it a shot."

He stared at her until she removed her finger from his lips. "... that is your answer? I have been agonizing over this for months."

"That's because you overthink."

Tech sighed and wrapped his arms around her. "You are too good to me."

"I have a name again, and I’m on a starship and in bed with prettiest human in the galaxy. Because you’re good to me." She snuggled happily into his chest.

He kissed her head, smiling when her suction cups stuck to his glasses. "And you are sure you're interested in this… little experiment?"

"As long as you promise to tell me if anything feels bad. The last thing I want is to hurt you." She nodded.

"Agreed."

"Then I’m happy to try. Tell me what you want."

Tech relaxed some and sat up, pulling her with him. "Perhaps we should lock the door first? Everyone is out of the ship, but there is never any real communication about when they are coming back."

She stretched a tentacle and hit the lock, shifting to sit on her knees in front of him. He leaned forward and kissed her, gentle at first but with a flavor of grateful longing that lingered on her tongue. They fell into each other, the near-death experience of Kamino a stark memory against the quiet of the room. When they broke apart, Tech cradled her face in his hands for a moment. Her wide eyes gazed back, entirely adoring, and he wondered once again how he'd ended up this lucky despite everything. "Lie back for me, cyar'ika." He breathed. "And… one final question."

"Yes?"

"May I record this? No one will see it but me… but I would like to revisit the moment."

Shaini smiled as he caught the hem of her shirt. "Okay.' She dropped onto her back as he pulled the garment over her head and let it fall to the floor. Tech took a moment to admire her stretched out before him before setting his goggles on the shelf and hooking his fingers into her waistband. She helpfully lifted her hips, the stark absence of her chains’ rattling when she moved dawning on her. She didn’t have them anymore. She never would again.

But she did have Tech.

Once she was bare, Tech quickly discarded his own blacks and set his lips against her skin, watching the way she shivered as he moved from one breast to the other. His tongue lathed over the sensitive flesh, half wondering about the biological purpose of pronounced breasts in an aquatic species… maybe he'd ask later. He had other, more pressing interests at the moment.

Her stomach jumped slightly when his kisses moved downward, and he smiled faintly against her skin. "You are ticklish."

"Yes. Don’t tickle me now, Tech. We’re busy." Her chiding was playful at best, so he tucked the information away for later and continued his descent. When he reached his prize, he lightly dragged a fingertip across her folds. A soft gasp was reward enough, and he dropped his head between her legs.

She hummed, pitching upwards as his tongue located the precise point that would undo her. He consumed her like a man starved, squeezing her hips lightly to hold her in place whenever she squirmed. She tucked her claws against her palms and drummed her knuckles against the mattress as the winding coil built rapidly in her core… Tech was was always good at this. Of course he was, Tech was good at everything and she loved him so much, and he was pulling her spirit out of her body at the moment without a word of complaint from Shiani.

The one brain cell she still had possession of flew back to that first night, when she'd put her mouth on him like this and her carefully composed Tech had swore like a dock hand and forgot how to finish a sentence. If she could suck the intelligence out of a genius, she supposed it was only fair he could snatch her soul in the same way. It had belonged to him for years anyway.

The orgasm snuck up on her almost embarrassingly quickly, and she lost her hum in favor of a desperate whine. It might have been his name, but it muddled into whimpers as she bucked against the hold he had on her. Tech wasn't willing to let up on her though, slowing down but never stopping his teasing kitten licks until she had ridden out her high and was trying to escape him and the overstimulation.

When he finally took mercy on her and rested his cheek on her thigh, the blue pulse of her bioluminescence was bright enough to see with the lights on. She smiled, panting, and reached for his face. A clawed thumb wiped her slick from his chin. "M-messy." She giggled.

"The best meals tend to be." He smirked, beyond pleased with himself, sitting up to crawl over her again. She squeaked when his weight settled atop her and he rolled, laying her across him. Her hands settled on his pectorals, pushing herself up to look at the clone.

He was so pretty, she thought. Angular face, serious eyes, and the still-fading scar from where his chip had been removed all those months ago. She leaned down and delicately kissed the scar, grateful he really was free of that awful monster lurking in his skull. She never wanted to imagine him like Crosshair, stolen away from her by something that made him believe the ones who loved him most were his enemies. “This is supposed to be about you.” She teased.

“On the contrary, I believe this is about us.” He leaned back, looking up at her. One arm stretched up towards the shelf on the side of his bunk where he kept a disorganized mess of chalk, machine oil, and little bits of scrap parts he’d tossed to the side. Behind the clutter, hidden on purpose, was a squeeze bottle of bacta-based medical lubricant. He sheepishly held it up to Shiani, who took it to inspect the label. “This should reduce any concern for injury or discomfort.”

She giggled. “How long have you been hiding this bottle behind chalk box?”

He flushed. “Probably longer than necessary, seeing how well the conversation leading up to this went…”

Shiani nodded, fiddling with the bottle lid. “Always preparing. So how do you want to do this?”

He rubbed her hips with his thumbs, thinking, before lifting her up slightly. “Shift to the left, cyar’ika.”

Agreeably, she wiggled her hips until Tech was notched at her entrance. His usually steady hands shook slightly on her hips. "At the… same time." He mumbled.

Shiani shivered and nodded, uncapping the bottle and squeezing the slippery, cold substance onto one of her tentacles. Tech watched, eyes wide as she slicked it up carefully, her other limbs writhing to wrap around his legs and pull them apart. Finally the prepped appendage slipped from his sight as Shiani got a devilish look on her face and seized his wrists, pulling them over his head and pinning him flat. The vulnerability and sudden helplessness had the clone's head spinning when her lips parted, fangs inches from his blurry vision. "I’ll take care of you." She said sweetly, kissing his lips before shifting her hips.

As he slid into her, she slid into him. The intrusion was much more slow than her seating herself, caution keeping her eyes screwed firmly onto his face for any signs of discomfort. Instead, his mouth was half open and his eyes crossed. He'd forgotten how to breathe.

Shiani kept her hips still as she pressed into him, searching for what he'd asked of her before she'd worry about her own pleasure from the throbbing cock inside her. It only took a few inches of feeding herself into the man below her until he jolted and whined.

"There?" She grinned breathlessly.

Tech tried to jerk, searching another glowing brush of her skin against the most sensitive parts of him. Instead of a clear affirmative, he could only manage a pitiful "uh-huh…"

That was all she needed, rolling her hips smoothly as she began to ride him and twitched the dexterous muscle in him against his prostate. Tech was a mess, incoherent babbling of her name and pleas for what was most likely more, harder, faster.

She only held onto her self control by a thread of delight at his debauched state. This was power, the ability to undo a man so tightly wound. Her body, her hands and mouth and flesh could brand something so intimate and mind-numbing into this man she loved so much…

She pressed her forehead against his, closing her eyes and focusing on the genius's feelings as his every nerve ending was shot to scrap. "That’s right. Come for me." She cooed, grinding her hips down a little harder as she pressed the magic button in him that made him lose his mind.

She needed him to come, and take him with her, so that she could ease the burning under both their skin. They'd have this, something he could never recreate with anyone but her, to be theirs forever.

"Sh-shia-ni!" He groaned, and her lilting siren's kiss followed the broken sound of his voice.

Tech unraveled, blood burning with electricity as he came harder than he'd ever done. Too many sensations fried his brain, til there was nothing left but the siren's song and touch. Dimly he heard her voice catch and she squeezed tight around him, his frenetic spasm grinding him right where she needed him most. She followed him to bliss, like she'd follow him anywhere.

When he went limp, she lay her head on his chest and shuddered through the combined aftershocks of their releases. He took a long time to drift back into his consciousness, like a leaf fluttering to the ground. When he did, her nail was lightly tracing the skin of his pectorals. "Tech?" She cooed. "You okay?"

"...fuck." He mumbled bluntly.

She giggled. "Experiment success?"

"I believe we will… require additional testing. But not right now. I don't believe I can move."

She carefully pulled off and out of him, Tech shuddering at the loss of her warmth. She quickly pulled his blanket over the both of them and curled up to his side, unlatching the door as she did. She petted his hair, turned off the recording feature of his goggles, and returned them in the sweetest display of aftercare he'd ever experienced. "You don’t need to move. I’ll take care of you." She breathed. "Go to sleep."

He nodded, managing to flop over on his side like a landed fish to hold her. "You are spectacular, my cyar'ika." He mumbled, exhausted and spent.

"I love you." She whispered back, mulling over the bits of Mando’a she'd struggled to teach herself. "Ni kar'tayl su."

Tech smiled against her ear fin, the hand on her hip squeezing three times. "Clever girl."

#explict #original character #clone force 99 #the bad batch #star wars #tbb tech #tech smut #monster fucker #song of the sea

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theworldoffostering · 1 year

Text

I’m checking in on this space every day, but haven’t had a lot of words to write.

My dad is still here. It’s weird waiting on death. I’m spending quite a bit of time with him but life also gets in the way and it’s never as much as I would like. He’s declining but still up and walking around at home, and eating and drinking. We can no longer go out to eat with him. He often needs to be fed food if it requires utensils. These are things that have changed over the past month or so.

Summer school ends for me this week. I’m planning to submit final grades on Saturday and then take some real time off.

Ms. 6 turns 18 in about two weeks. It feels oddly empowering. She has been lording a lot over us for the past ten months. In some ways, her being 18 means we have more power and it’s messed up, but I’m grateful. I think she’s super depressed but every time I broach the subject with her she vehemently denies it and shuts down the conversation.

My mom is celebrating her birthday this weekend. I know we all feel the lasts with my dad. There is a lot of sad.

H and E both have summer jobs. One has a lawn care business and one is walking dogs. We have also gone on the list to be a foster home for kittens with our local animal shelter. So far no calls.

Baby is slated to begin play-based therapy this summer. I am holding out hope that it will be helpful. I’m not sure what else to try. He’s in a morning basketball camp this week and next. Then we are moving onto swim lessons.

NB wrapped up daycare for good last week. He’s moving into all day 4k in the fall. Holy smokes—are we done paying for daycare for forever?! Feels like a major win!

Our kids finished school last week. DS completed his driver’s ed class. He doesn’t even need to take a test at the DMV. DH and I can just say he took the class and did his hours with us, and boom! He gets a drivers license! He’s probably not quite there yet, but he’s close. I had him drive home from the Milwaukee on the interstate the other day and he did great. I need to see if he knows how to parallel park. He seems like a decent driver but still wants a lot of coaching from me and it is a lot for him to attend to at once. I’m unsure if that’s the ADHD or just inexperience, but thinking about directions, turn signals, accelerating vs braking, etc. is a lot for him to keep in his brain at one time.

DH is working a summer job at a fancy resort as a banquet server. Someone tipped us off that there is good money to be made in tips. The hours are great for summer: 2-10pm. They trained him as a server and bar tender. Busy weeks are just beginning and his first paycheck is tomorrow so we will see what happens. I’m glad he has some money coming in and glad it works in terms of the schedule.

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actual-bill-potts · 1 year

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hi! i just wanted to drop by and say, i think your last prompt fic rewired the chemistry in my brain. i've been rotating that interaction between finarfin and olwe in my mind for hours now. that's probably the best take i saw on them & and on why finarfin didn't return immediately after the first kinslaying. that was amazing and your writing is wonderful

also i'm in love with your "and all our towers cast down" fic, with your portrayal of finrod and his trauma, it's honestly fascinating

hope you're having a good day/night <3

omg tysm for this incredibly kind message!!!! it literally made my entire day. tbh i didn't expect much of a response to that ficlet bc it was such a struggle to write - Aegnor and Angrod are not characters I think about often and Alqualondë is so odd narratively to me bc it feels like it should be a major turning point for everyone but it kind of...isn't? So this was my best attempt at making it make sense in my own mind. I need to write a full meta post on the subject soon haha to put my thoughts in order. I'm so glad you liked it!! Though I don't really write about them much, Olwë and Finarfin are such interesting characters to me so I'm glad they came through properly.

And thank u so so much!! i have absolutely adored writing towers, it's so much fun to explore the character dynamics and really dive into leithian and make everyone's choices make more sense in my own brain. in my mind finrod's death is really what sealed the doom of nirnaeth, cuz politically fingon lost so much with finrod. so i am really looking forward to exploring the ramifications of his survival and how the events of tol-in-gaurhoth affected him. i really see his role in leithian as him finally snapping and being like I'm going to help this person I love no matter the cost. I've always headcanoned that a big part of the reason he went to middle earth was to support both the nolofinwions and his own people who loved feanor. and in middle-earth he's had to make the hard pragmatic choice so many times, between splitting from turgon pretty much forever, letting his brothers go to the front lines, sending balan's people to the front lines, constantly smoothing things over between the Fëanorions, the nolofinwions, the doriathrim, the bëorians, and the laiquendi, and at the point of leithian he's just seen so much of that work burst into flames around him and he basically pulls a fingolfin. he's like fuck what happens to me, fuck what happens to my kingdom: thingol is insane, two of my brothers are dead, pretty much all of balan's people that i worked so hard to help are dead except this one guy who is determined to go on a suicide mission. so im gonna help balan's descendant and no one can stop me.

But now he's survived and he's going to have to reckon with...all of that...with fingon who just lost his father to a similar impulse, and with orodreth, and with himself. and of course sauron's mind games didn't help him any. so he's in a pretty bad headspace right now and is going to have to deal with a lot of the losses he's just been shoving away and not looking at up until now.

Anyway sorry for the ramble! I'm just very passionate abt this project lol.

Also, I know you like Finarfin, and this ask made literally my whole entire day, so here's a Finarfin+Finrod snippet for you! I hope you enjoy <3

That morning, Arafinwë's eldest son does not so much walk into the dining room as swim. He is encased in layers upon layers of swishing fabric that billow before and after him, making it necessary to sway carefully to avoid tripping; his hair, loosed and straightened, falls nearly to his feet, and keeps tangling about his knees; and he looks inordinately proud of himself.

Arafinwë glances at Eärwen in bewilderment, wondering if wardrobe-related madness is a symptom among the Returned that he has forgotten about. She looks just as confused as he feels, if significantly more amused.

"Good morning, Finrod!" he says aloud. "Er - is there a special occasion?"

Finrod moves carefully to his chair, then sweeps his massive skirts behind him, swiftly moves the chair out, and sinks into it with a whoosh. He looks up cheerfully.

"Good morning, Atya, Ammë!" he says, beaming. "No special occasion - this is cultural. It is the latest in Vanyarin fashion!"

"Is it?" Arafinwë asks weakly. "It seems - difficult to move in."

"Oh, yes," Finrod responds, grinning even wider. The effect, in conjunction with the sparkling, billowing skirts and tangled hair, is nearly blinding. "That's the point, you see! It is intended to emulate the care with which the Valar must move, encased in the forms they take to walk among us. I thought the idea was fascinating. And the fabrics they use are so beautiful!"

"Ah - that is indeed interesting," Arafinwë responds, wondering who among his mother's people he will have to take aside later for a quick word on not telling Finrod about Vanyar fads. "Surely it is not intended to go out in...?"

"Oh, but of course it is!" Finrod says. "I plan to go out to market as soon as we are done breakfasting, to experience the full effect. Would you like to come? It could be quite interesting."

"Alas, your mother and I must hold court soon after breakfast, and cannot join," Arafinwë says without much regret.

"You must tell us about the experience, though!" Eärwen chimes in, sounding as if she is suppressing laughter.

"Ah, very well," Finrod says cheerfully; and after he has breakfasted he does indeed rise carefully - barely snatching his garment away from the remnants of jelly on his plate before it can be stained - and swim out of the room.

Eärwen and Arafinwë look at each other and burst into laughter.

"The skirts!" Eärwen gasps, "The folds! It will take him an hour to exit the palace!"

"Oh dear," Arafinwë says at last, wiping his eyes. "Oh dear. Was he like this before?"

"He was!" Eärwen exclaims. "Do you remember, he used to creep into your father's closet and try on his best robes? Then he would swan about the halls, trying not to trip."

"I had forgotten," Arafinwë admits, a smile curving his lips, "but you are quite right. He always did love beautiful clothing. I only hope that his pursuit of high Vanyarin fashion will not send him home with a broken collarbone."

"It is so good to have our son home," Eärwen says abruptly. "Our children gave me such joy. I had nearly forgotten."

Arafinwë reaches across the table to take her hand. "It is," he agrees. The image of Finrod leaving the room, having to angle his hips to fit through the door and bundling his hair about himself so as not to trip, floats across his mind and he chuckles again. "Do you remember when bustles were all the rage, and Artanis got caught on a turn of the stairway? She was furious."

Eärwen's laughter is a welcome peal, more light of heart than he had heard in years. "As I recall, it was Finrod who convinced her of their merits in the first place."

"She did not take his advice on fashion again, after that!" Arafinwë agrees. He cannot stop smiling as he begins to gather up the breakfast things and neaten his own robes. It feels as if his heart is singing within him: Our son is home. He is home. He is home!

#my writing #finarfin #earwen #finrod #silm fic #nice people saying nice things #the silmarillion

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chibipandaao3 · 1 year

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Win — Between Us and Hemp Rope thoughts part 3 (spoilers)

I mentioned it towards the end of my last post, but really wanted to get into Win as he’s written in the novel. Boun of course does a wonderful job (as does Prem), but I think if they’d been given more meat to chew on they’d of had such flushed out characters on screen.

Anyway - Win, self worth as it pertains to worthiness and expectations, self sabotage as a means of self preservation, and fear.

So a few things going in, we know from both the novel and the show that Win is the middle child, that he feels obligated to care for his brothers Waan and Wiew, that he dyed his hair, got his ears pierced, and got tattoos as a way to “stand out,” and that Team is his first love - or at least the first person he’s care enough about to feel genuine fear over losing.

We also know from the author that most of his previous relationships ended with the other person claiming that Win was “too good” for them.

In both versions it is very clear early on that Win is very attracted to Team - even if he doesn’t own up to it fully. And in both, Dean (ever the voice of reason?) explicitly tells Win to be honest with Team - because Win is nice and has a tendency to unintentionally cause people to think he’s being more than friendly.

In the novel this happens several times - with Dean and also with Waan and Wiew - ‘be careful you don’t make him feel special if you don’t mean it’ ‘people tend to feel special with you when you’re just being kind’ - and Win listens.

However, and this is what I think they tried and failed to do, is Win is okay with Team thinking he’s special. There’s this point after Win speaks with Waan where he basically thinks - it doesn’t matter if Team thinks he’s special [like the others have] because Team is special. So if he misunderstands it doesn’t matter.

AND Win on multiple occasions tried to label what he and Team have - even once being cut off as he tried to introduce Team as his “boyfriend”

Why does all this matter? As I alluded to in the beginning, Win has this expectation that he - by virtue of never getting to keep things - is unworthy of things. Team can’t be his forever, so he’s not going to fight too hard in fear of chasing Team away. He tries, with acknowledging that Team can think he’s special but not fighting to label what that means often, to set sabotage. And when Team cuts him off on the occasions when Win tries to label their relationship, it reaffirms all those fears.

So when Team says “I have something I need to tell you” before they leave for the swim trip - Win is stricken with the absolute fear that Team is going to say it’s over, even when it hasn’t begun yet.

(There are tears in that whole sequence like in the show. However, in the novel it’s because Team is calling out Win on never putting himself first and that if “being special” means Win suffers then Team doesn’t want to be special. There is no make out misunderstanding like in the show)

This insecurity Win has extends past them becoming official as well.

Win mentioned his intentions to get his Masters abroad - Team has a single moment of “what about us?!” And is immediately reassured by Win and going for from that, Team generally is secure in their relationship and alright with the idea of Win leaving.

Win is the one that panics - at one point fretting over Team’s swimming, sleep, eating, everything that could occur in his absence.

Anyway last bit of my brain before I work like a good adult…

Win is the less secure of the two. Team’s ‘problems’ come almost exclusively from his childhood trauma, and while real and painful - he (even before therapy) does a good job of being sturdy in his life. Yes, insomnia is a struggle. Yes, he has self doubt and a boat load of other insecurities - BUT he’s never been afraid to commit to people. To Pharm and Manaow - to Win - hell, he’s still committed to Ton a decade after the others death, and yes trauma but also because he loved his brother. Because he’s fulfilling a promise.

Win loves his brothers, yes. But with the exception of Dean - who he likely bonded with as he was developing this kind of insecurity - Win doesn’t latch on with the intention of committing. He’s scared to.

Team is the exception.

#between us #between us the series #winteam #uwma team #teamwin #hemp rope #between us thoughts #lazy sheep #hemp rope novel

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doyouknowthemossinman · 7 months

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okay someone asked me frfr for the RGB/Bad Suns song picks so HERE I GO ( @goosemagician i am forever in your debt !!!!!!)

i talk way too much so erm. BE WARNED, HERE BE WORDS

We Move Like the Ocean from Language and Perspective

The entire first verse of this song is literally RGB's headspace during Cut to, Greenlight, Dissolve, and Iris imo. like "I've been painting pictures in my head and falling short / Losing my direction, turn me around" THAT'S HIM AND MADRAS OK!!! HE'S SO SAD

The second verse is very much his weird not-his-death dreams. I just felt like is was kinda fitting? Maybe he's talking to Hate here? (The "didn't you used to dance" face and Hate's face in his flashback are the SAME has anyone talked about this yet)

To me the chorus is his relationship with Hero as it develops. They've got kind of a rhythm going now, they kinda know how the other works, they are getting closer emotionally hahaha, but RGB literally and figuratively can't swim. He's not as emotionally available as Hero needs him to be. Even the "anymore" on the end of that line implies that he has bonded with people like that in the past (at least romantically if i'm interpreting light entertainment as canon? it's canon right??) but he can't for Hero. Yet.

Even in my Dreams, I Can't Win from Disappear Here

Honestly this entire song is just him and I can SEE a little animatic in my head but I'll try to explain

The first verse feels like what his nights are like without a hero to guide, those inbetweens when he has to find the gall to get back up to the Inbetween (ha) and find another keyframe.

The pre-chorus and chorus is just his cycle of finding heroes and failing time and time again. rip.

The bridge feels like him getting frustrated and overwhelmed at his not-death nightmares and trying to explain them to Hero and this is all he comes up with lol. It's not even entirely accurate but I think he would at least try and explain them to her eventually.

Away We Go from Mystic Truth

honestly this one's kind of just an adventuring song!! Maybe cutting between his time with Magnus and some of the heroes? or just Hero? It feels simple to me and I kinda just picked it to have one song from each album lmao. BUT IT ALSO APPLIES I would never disrespect Mystic Truth like that

Life Was Easier When I Only Cared About Me from Apocalypse Whenever

This is basically "determined little ball of sunshine worms her way into a monster's non-existent heart" the song. Like the Iris through Flood era. Like "how does this little girl keep violently pulling her forcefully-adopted dad out of his depression"

First verse is sad dad!!!! I know "My thoughts came flooding in / I started to drown" relates to the title of Flood and he has come close to being drowned like twice, but it's more like that vaguely suicidal moment he has after Madras pushes him backward??? BABE ARE U OKAY

"Lit my own fuse, I could not blow it out / I was strapped to a rocket aimed right at the ground" is definitely one of their arguments/genuine heartbreaking fights but it'S OK THEY STILL LOVE EACH OTHER

AND THE CHORUS OH MY GOD. He realizes how much Hero really means to him and is just SO mad about it. Okay not mad but like!! He wasn't supposed to get attached and now here he is!!!! Also IF at the end of the story RGB turns back into a human (that's a theory people have right) "I had no reason to breathe / Until you knocked the wind out of me" IS GOING TO BE SO LITERAL OH MY GODDDD (I don't personally think that's where we're going but it would be sooooo niceeee andmy songs would work so well for thaaat)

Anyway!!! Thank you for making it to the end!! As a prize you get more song recs because GOD he literally is just Bad Suns to me

Okay wait actually, bonus Thoughts because i'm listening to L&P again, Salt is like if he ever got a weird dysphoria after becoming a monster??? IF THAT EVEN HAPPENED??? Mirror mention and my brain went insane sorry. "These memories are nothing to me, just salt" mans literally SOLD his so like. IT'S RELEVANT. idk please go listen to Salt it's so trans

Most of Language and Perspective (the album not just the song) is pretty relevant to him but that may just be my bias getting in the way lol. Cardiac Arrest, Dancing on Quicksand, and Salt would be my number ones but I'm so for real please go listen to the whole album

Disappear Here also has bangers but so far the only other song I can relate to this mess of a man is Defeated.

One Magic Moment is him and Hero for sureee but it's just a vibe, other than the first lines i don't have any deeper thoughts lol. Love By Mistake is also him idk.

Unstable is his denial song i think <3 babes is not okay

Most of Apocalypse Whenever is so happy in a genuine way, while TV boy here is happy in a fake way. Maybe it'll apply more by the end of the story but for now nothing really fits. EXCEPT FOR ELECTRIC CIRCUS AAAAHHH??? hOW COULD I FORGET. "Crushed by a tidal wave of lies an shame" OKAY GIRL. anyway never thought i'd tell you that the album with a PVRIS feature is too happy but here we are

The Infinite Joy EP is SO GOOD guys. Living or Dying is vaguely RGB-vibey? Maybe Astral Plans as well but it's very loose.

OK FOR REAL GO FORTH AND BECOME BAD SUNS FANS

#treewords #musicposting #<- because that's what this is basically #tpoh #do i main tag??#i main tag bc i was ASKED #IT'S OKAY #the property of hate #tpoh rgb #since it's about him #only reason i didn't do a suit for disappear here and mystic truth is bc they're v monochrome #disappear here could work since it's blue but #mystic truth was black and white soooo #you see where i'm coming from right

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pyreflydust · 8 months

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I think recovery is one of those things that for a long time for me has kind of been a background noise to survival and it's hard to balance the two together, especially when your mental illness tells you that you have no right to even be in survival mode while also telling you that you should die.

And sometimes I think about how often things aren't really about a lack of ability to do something OR about not trying hard enough but about not having the resources and not even knowing what questions to ask yourself or anyone else to even begin obtaining those resources. Because healing cannot happen in isolation. People weren't meant to be alone! But once you've been alone long enough it's really fucking hard to come back out of that hole because you're tired and feel weak and you just want to sleep it off.

And in your sleep, in the depths of the belly of the beast of survival mode, the hole gets deeper. You might find yourself thinking if you just stop and rest you can start working on the recovery part. But you can't. The hole gets bigger and deeper and more vast or it fills with water and you're just too fucking tired to swim.

I can't bring myself to call doctors! I admitted this to someone whose job it is to help me with medical stuff recently and she offered to contact the doctors for me. Against the advice of the Disorders that live in my brain, I said yes. I have so many worsening medical issues I'm genuinely afraid they'll only get worse forever until I die. And I still feel like I have no right to claim to be in survival mode.

I want to get out of this hole. I'm tired of being tired. I'm tired of wanting to die. But I've been doing this for so fucking long that even with access to several rafts I'm still scared they'll pop on the way to shore. And, still, I just want to sleep it off.

#little alien life shit #suicide mention #or... an implied one anyway

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xfindingtrouble · 1 year

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song shuffle ellis for 4!

would like to point out that never love an anchor was the first option, but I've already broken it down here. i do believe that i may have talked about this song with you in regards to Kakashi? but it is integral to ellis' characterization. when he meets morrigan, he is not quite a whole person yet. neither is she. their love was a survival tactic, it wasn't love for the sake of love. they never learned to hold each other gently & that's why they couldn't have worked where they met in his timeline. later in life he marries @softersinned's astoria & he learns how to treat someone gently as she is someone who helped him grow while encouraging him to do so on his own. someone who was always going to be one of his forever people. but with morrigan it couldn't have worked in a way that would have been worth it. morrigan & ellis had chemistry but chemistry wasn't enough.

but since i had already broken down never love an anchor, i went ahead & shuffled again & ended up with brave as a noun - ajj which is actually one of my favorite songs of all time. i have it on ellis' playlist because i feel like it really hits the nail on the head about how he processes the world around him. he has wildly invasive thoughts revolving good & bad & he feeds both sides of himself. he wants to stay safe, remain where h& how he knows how he can function even if it isn't sustainable.

but he has hope that he can be something more, be a better person & comes to understand that he has to be the one to make that decision. he has to be the one to ' get the brains to get out of bed in the morning ' [ a line from the song ] but anyways i am gonna dive on into this because ajj is my all time fav & this is my favorite ajj song & it's off my favorite ajj album so applying it to ellis is just fucking sublime for me. it's so on point. like even the way it sounds, raw & a little shitty is reflective of the way his brain works. down to the patterns in the banjo & the emotion behind how the lyrics are presented. this song was one of the songs that shaped his concept.

I could go off the deep end I could kill all my best friends I could follow those stylish trends And God knows I could make amends

so ellis has always kind of walked the metaphorical line of what is 'too much ' if that makes sense? he was the second son of the couslands. he was the sheltered secondborn of an influential family. he was always swimming in a million ' what ifs' that were based on how he perceived stories & how he wanted to be perceived. he didn't have many expectations on his shoulders to ground him & so he sort of ran wild emotionally. he would throw fits, ruin friendships & partake in a thousand destructive & self-sabotaging behaviors growing up.

after the blight he expects to be a different person entirely... which he is, in a way. he's more tired, less patient but those habits & thought processes he developed as a child still linger. he still ends up in tears after a minor inconvenience & he's always terrified the people around him secretly hate him. only his sister & astoria are really able to ground him to any degree & even then he really cannot stand being that kind of burden to the people he loves. of course he learns how to cope with time & effort but for a long time he's really stuck in fight mode. for at least a couple years after the blights, going into awakening & witch hunt he's Deep In It & super easily triggered.

like he feels guilt surrounding it but he doesn't feel like he can make amends because his responses are genuine? like he is upset about how he treats the people around him, in any context whether it is positive or negative. but he isn't sorry for how he feels, in the same stride? it's almost like he feels sorry for existing in an interactive world. there'll be more on this bit later. also directly following the blight his sister, lily, is at her worst as well. she's younger than him, he feels the weight of her suffering on his shoulders. she kept him in line for the whole blight where he was constantly giving into this impulsive & often cruel part of himself. she kept him from becoming a monster & though they are technically both warden-commanders, he bears the brunt of the responsibility in the beginning of rebuilding ferelden's grey wardens. so again. there is no time to make amends or get closure. only to react.

But I’ve got an angry heart Filled with cancers and poppy tarts If this is how you folks make art It’s fucking depressing

of course, he's angry. how could he not be? he lost everything. i love exploring the thought of losing yourself & having to rebuild but this is such a big concept when it comes to ellis. he loses not only his family, his home, his known life... but he loses his idealism, his mind & his faith. plus ellis feels like he's lost his closest friend [ astoria, who he finds out has magical ability. he is afraid of mages / believed in a lot of anti-magic propaganda before the blight. ] anyways he's got this rage that's always on the tip of his tongue during the blight. he feels it in every heartbeat & it feels like a horrible disease. but he kinda likes it.

he likes the way his heart races when he starts to get a little scared. a little angry. it makes him feel horribly alive. if he weren't a rogue i would probably compare it to raging in dnd as a barbarian. he lovesss the adrenaline & cannot stop craving it. his overreactions distract him from having to react to these loses he's facing. there are a lot of people who try to tell him to temper his emotions, to tread a little more carefully. to that, he wonders how boring their lives must be without that horrible, wonderful feeling.

the feeling that all you have to lose is the body you exist in is very real for ellis. if not for lily & astoria being in their travel party he probably would have died much quicker, but they give him something to live for. even when he's not happy with them, they both remind him that he is a person outside of the gore. he still struggles thinking that other people do not react on the same level as him, though.

And it’s sad To know That we are not alone And it’s sad to know there’s no honest way out

he lamets over the connections he has to this world. whether it's lily, astoria, morrigan or any of the other friends he picks up on the way... he hates that they anchor him to his flesh. he would much rather crawl out of it or rot in the ground or whatever else can happen to his fragile body. he's soooo okay with dying. he's so into the idea of being thrown into a shallow grave & being forgotten. of course he fears it, but it's not the scariest thing on his plate at the time. but he is not okay with leaving his loved ones to fend for themselves, even as he has difficulties understanding how to maintain or fix those relationships. he still treasures them, deeply.

it's sad to know there is no dying on the end of a darkspawn's blade without affecting not only the people he has left, but also the potential outcome of the world. there are three grey wardens in ferelden, one of them is him, one of them is his sister & one of them is a king's bastard( & as far as ellis is concerned in the beginning, an oaf ). they don't know what will happen to Alistair by the end of it all, as he is a decent contender for king. if ellis were to die, that would leave lily as the single hope ferelden had of survival. he could never damn her to that fate.

I’m afraid to leave the house I’m as timid as a mouse I’m afraid if I go out, I’ll out wear my welcome

this sets up a perfect set one lines to dip into the next big arc of his life. after the blight, ellis is tired & half-mad. he perceives every threat that could be there, not always able to differentiate which ones are real & which ones are from his mind. when amaranthine is left in he & lily's care, it's like throwing salt in an open wound. he walks whalls that he had traveled once with his father, a constant reminder of a friend's betrayal. being in charge of rendon howe's estate really messes with his mind. during this time, lily is also Suffering intensely & can barely face the public let alone run anything. so ellis takes a lot of the responsibility.

but he is struggling too. man is paranoid & overactive to every little thing. if he see's a shadow dance in the corner of his eye he's sure it's a darkspawn. maybe it's the desire demon he let keep that man in the mage tower? maybe it's there for him next. he doesn't know but he thinks he knows. if this makes sense? this makes it hard for him to reach out to apologize, to process feelings. he lashes out often & usually walks away from emotionally intense situations in tears. so he often tries to avoid them altogether. he would rather exist as a myth, an idea [ which he doesn't like but is preferable ] than be seen or known to any degree.

he doesn't care so much about trying to temper himself as much as he cares about avoiding situations in the public altogether. especially since he has trouble feeling bad for his reactions, because again, they are genuine. when he's royally pissed off he feels that feeling in earnest. if he's hyperventilating in the throne room it's because he can't stop it. for as much as he hates to be seen, he hates trying to keep his emotions on any sort of leash either? which lends to this vicious cycle of ' please don't look at me, i can't hide, fucking stop looking at me ' if that makes sense?

I am not a courageous man I don’t have any big lasting plans ’m too cowardly to take a stand I wanna keep my nose clean

during this time he feels like he does not have it in him to seek the help he needs. he doesn't have the time. it's not that he doesn't have the support. in fact, he has the support of an entire [ mostly grateful ] nation. not even counting his new friends, surviving family, astoria or his recruits. he's constantly planning for a future he can't see. one he's not sure he'll be a part of, despite the fact that he is at the center of building it. though he is able to plan & navigate social niceties via letters [ not face-to-face. he actually often comes off as rude in social situations. he's generally unexpressive or too expressive if that makes sense? it's expanded a little more on one of his schizophrenia posts ]

but anyways despite him not feeling like he can be apart of what's to come [ though he will be & cannot see it ] he is afraid to stand up to certain parties. though this is a conversation for another day, ellis is very blatanlty anti-chantry. he loses his faith during the blight & is pretty open about it. it complicates things often so in a lot of other situations he tries to do what he's supposed to. even if he's not always good at it, he still tries to build this new & better reputation for the grey wardens. it doesn't really come together until lily & astoria act as buffers for the public in seperate ways.

astoria acts as an emotional buffer, as she is someone who takes the time to understand why he is like this. she is one of the only people he ever feels really knows him outside of his family. she helps support him when he needs support, though she is also balancing her own duties surrounding her homes at the same time. but anyways there are a lot of reputations outside of his own he has to consider & with him already being in bad standing with such a large power in ferelden, in contrast to the masses of people who have immortalized him as legend, he has to tread carefully where he is better at stomping if this makes sense? idk it is like 10am & i haven't slept yet but i had to finish this

And it’s sad To know That we’re not alone in this And it’s sad to know there’s no honest way out In this life we lead, we could conquer everything If we could just get the braves to get out of bed in the morning

again, reiterating the sentiment that the people in his life keep him in line. they keep the invasive thoughts from winning. it's hard to maintain his relationships while trying to balance his own shit, but they ever stop being important to him. he thinks about them in retrospect of every action,how the people he cares about may be affected by any destructive or self destructive thoughts. but if he can stay alive for them, why can't he stay alive for himself?

the first step he takes in healing & seeking help for this cycle he traps himself in is realizing he wants out of it. it's okay to ask for help, it's okay to rely on the people you love. but they cannot fix him. he has to want to heal & adapt himself. otherwise, he will weigh his loved ones down because he is not carrying any of the weight. he's hollowed himself out for so many causes that he decides to fill that space with someone better than he was. he just has to take that leap with his own two legs.

#allgather #comment cards ( answered. )#hc. ellis cousland #ch. ellis cousland #breathes hard #i have more thoughts too but i am so sleepy #& i have gone insane enough i do believe

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sambinnie · 1 year

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1. Solstice again. Creeping from the still house into cool air, then a run to smooth waters where even the dogs and their walkers haven’t yet rambled. We swim in almost-silence for a while, like steady kayaks, with a chiffchaff serenading us and the last of the willow fluff dusting the surface of the water, fish occasionally glopping upwards to grab a passing insect.

Home to pick a posy for the table. I must not fall asleep as soon as I sit down. I fall asleep instantly.

2. This spring has been wonderful. Besides the puffs from the willows along the river, the chestnut trees drip sap onto the pavements so our shoes click with every pace, and the ducklings, goslings and cygnets gather around their beady-eyed parents. Dragonflies and damselflies drone over the river. Huge poppies have grown in the chaos of the garden, I assume where I threw the seeds from pavement poppies last summer, and bees roll around among the stamens like playing puppies. I drive past the supermarket and see several people tending to a horse in the neighbouring scrubland.

3. Have you finished Succession yet? This final series has been my favourite yet, for possibly obvious reasons — my stress levels were lower than my enjoyment levels for the very first time, so I could fully savour exactly how brilliant every single aspect is. Cast, crew, production, script — everything is perfect, and yet how hard to communicate why a programme about the world’s worst people is not just watchable but probably the best TV this year. This Vanity Fair clip with the director of the scene on Connor’s wedding boat is excellent and describes so well how TV like this is a kind of alchemy.

4. A brief sojourn to a foreign city, where the cathedral left me chilled but a record store was so exactly like the ones from my teens that I welled up and had to be pulled away. How do smells cut through all barriers and transform us so completely to our previous selves? I wanted to stay for hours and flick through every single album, and end up buying four, two I’d love immediately and two I’d hate, but would stick with because albums are never cheap, and the two that were harder work would become my favourites and stick deep in my brain forever. I thought myself too cool to be a Feeder fan at the time, but watching this video now I want to weep at how normal we all looked then, how clunky and average and awkward, how anyone who grew up in the 90s would recognise those bedrooms, that wallpaper, those lampshades, and how humans are so dumb to grieve things we didn’t even want at the time.

But sometimes, for brief moments, like when you are standing at the stove making lemon and courgette risotto and listening to Head Like a Hole at full volume, your teen self and the adult self you thought you might be meld perfectly and all is well with the world.

5. We read this book in bookclub recently, and I was struck at how we all struggled to verbalise our feelings about it. Was it good? Bad? Confusing? Funny? Unsettling? It was all and none, the live example of imagining a colour you’d never seen before. I was reminded of these two videos the algorithms had fed me, on Outsider Music and how audiences misunderstood the film of American Psycho when it first came out. Weirdness is so challenging, so aching and unsettling and new to brains which generally thrive on conformity and predictability. In the latter video, the film’s director Mary Herron says, ‘I have to always remind myself, sometimes I don’t get it, you know, when I first see something… particularly if it’s unfamiliar, it can be quite… there’s something uncomfortable or disturbing or it seems boring or like it does’t work, and it’s also because you’re just not attuned to it yet and it’s just sometimes you take time.’ Like those albums as a teen, the best, weirdest, most brain-engaging stuff often takes much longer to chew, but it’s almost always worth it.

6. (We also watched Mustang, which I recommend to literally everyone, although it does nothing to disprove my theory that all good woman- and girl-based films are secretly also horror films. But it’s brilliant, so please watch it if you haven’t already.)

7. I intend to make this tonight for the Solstice feast’s dessert. Happy summer, pals.

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vizthedatum · 1 year

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A college essay I wrote in 2007/08 for USC (I got in)... or "The prose of a seventeen-year-old's undiagnosed neurodivergence and trauma"

Newton's First Law of Motion states that an object in motion tends to stay in motion in the same direction unless acted upon by an external force. Tell us about an external influence (a person, an event, etc.) that affected you and how it caused you to change direction.

My eyelashes stuck stubbornly shut even as I opened my eyes. Blinking rapidly, my eyes took in the stale air and teamed with tiny droplets of tears. A hammer pounded internally in my brain, even though I was not fully awake. The beats of life steadily ran through my body and a few seconds later, confidence rained over me as my mind activated when I splashed water over my face. But quite truthfully, I felt like I was going to vomit. My head was spinning from lack of sound sleep and even though I administered drug induced black outs to myself, I just couldn't seem to get over what I was feeling.

My memories have always been shaped by the scent of my mother's perfume, the aroma of my friends' hair, and the aura of the places I visit. I grew up smelling my way around throughout my life. Every time I would have to recall a memory, if I didn't know what smell that memory held, I could not remember the context of the memory at all. Some would think this would give me a slight disadvantage as it seemed like I was suffering from a slight amnesia, but that is not true at all. This trait allowed me to explore the world and lust for success.

While I began to experience the world, I soon realized it was not loveable at all. Growing up as a person of color, I discovered racism existed at the age of eight. I never understood it at the time, but as naïve as I might have been, I knew this was not the only injustice I had yet to see. Friendship never came to me at that age either. Time and time again, I asked myself: what did I have to offer? Nothing, it seemed like. I had no true friends and was always considered the odd child. With no one, except my parents, to share my emotions, I remained subdued at home reading books. I loved to read "The Boxcar Children", and in that wonderful series, I was inspired. In the book, the character, Violet, had wanted to take up the violin, and therefore, so did I. I knew I would continue to play for the rest of my life.

Learning piece after piece not only gave me something to work towards but it also gave me discipline. It opened up a new world for me especially when I engrossed myself in the orchestra program and violin lessons. I made new friends who had the same interests I had, and I stuck with them ever since. I realized that productively involving and applying myself was the only way I could involve myself in the world's affairs. With that thought, I went through school while being part of the music program (orchestra, choir, and band), math team, swimming, and various other sports. As interesting as all this was, I began to realize my true passion: to learn from what I experience and to teach what I learn.

By the time I reached the fourth grade, I was elated. Things had finally turned. My nickname was HP (Happy Pritika) and my voice was filled with laughter. It seemed like this would last forever. But once my life turned, it wouldn't stop. It seemed as I grew, I became more aware of what was happening around me. My view towards my family was changing and consequently, of myself.

I began to wallow in failure and lack of self-esteem. I was wilting like the beloved flowers my mother cherished with the love that was absent within my family. Who would nourish my dehydration? I studied and studied, and I ignored what reality was. I became reserved once again, though I burst later. The sociable and the depressed beings that lived within me were escaping. Let them go, I thought. I can handle it.

I couldn't.

In my bedroom, I thought for hours: what was the meaning of life if I were destined to go through this sensation? But as though someone had lifted a veil off my face, I began to see that the world was lighter. I began to see, and I found love. Love was radiating from my ill father and my cynical mother. Love emitted from my friends, my true friends. This was life, and I reasoned that everyone makes mistakes and everyone has their problems. It is very simply put but the implications of this statement are quite complex. I wanted to stop all of that. But over and over again, I realized that life gave me reminders of this statement. Death and love, life showed me, and I became influenced. My feelings were real, and I had to face them where they truly were: within me.

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feykaplan · 1 year

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[ asena keskinci, cis woman, she/her ] - was that feyza kaplan i saw by the lighthouse today? i heard that the twenty-six year old who has been in nightrest for her entire life and works as an owner of medusa has a reputation of being zealous, but also abrasive. they reside in low point & people in town usually associate them with always scrolling on her phone, the sound of stiletto heels on marble, having no filter & blood red lipstick. let’s hope the killer doesn’t go after them next.

trigger warnings: -

BASICS

full name: feyza kaplan

nickname: fey, bitch

date of birth: december 14, 1996 (bc ofc she’s a sag)

gender: cis woman

pronouns: she/her

occupation: she calls herself a model but she is just as unemployed as azra tbh

birthplace: nightrest, massachusetts

sexuality: bisexual

height: 5′4″

BACKGROUND

the baby of the family, she’s the most spoiled

she’s dilara’s youngest sister and they’re honestly pretty close despite the fact that they live completely different lifestyles

dilara’s a stay-at-home mother with two kids and fey literally cannot comprehend being a mother right now

she doesn’t even know if she wants kids like that’s so far out of her mind

she grew up in such a wealthy family, that she never really had to work for anything. whatever she wanted, she got tbh

it’s so funny how her parents honestly think of her as some sort of sweetheart slash angel slash gift from above because she’s SO sweet around them

but that’s not the case with everyone else LMFAO the lady can be so out of pocket for no reason omfg

however, she does value her family and her found family. she keeps her circle tight because she doesn’t trust people easily

there’s not really a reason for it tbh, she just wasn’t built that way

good at a lot of things because she took so many lessons as a kid from ballet to violin to swimming to fencing to horseback riding but none of them really stuck as she grew older

will forever have respect for her older sisters even if they don’t share her mindset because she believes that sisters are and always will be forever like that bond can never be broken

they could go weeks without speaking to each other but she knows she’ll always have them and that she can always depend on them

there is not a humble bone in this woman’s body like she’s rich and hot and you WILL know it

also gets really scared of commitment and runs when things get serious!! rip

PERSONALITY TRAITS

+ zealous, courageous, authentic

- abrasive, self-serving, judgmental

FUN FACTS

she doesn’t really have a filter. she’ll say whatever she thinks of in the moment without regard for your feelings

a natural redhead so fuck outta here asking her what hair dye she uses because she’s gonna yank your hair and tell you you deserve it

all this lady has is the audacity because she can say the most out of pocket stuff and still be like 😇

can and will throw hands because she loves to fight especially if it’s to defend a friend

definitely became a cheerleader in high school solely because she knows she’d look cute in the uniform

she’s like the fun aunt tbh and is surprisingly good with kids

is also surprisingly clever, did really well in school and remembers a lot of things but she keeps that to herself tbh just files it away in a cabinet in her brain

has a torch red (red chevrolet corvette) that’s her BABY. scratch her car in any way and she’ll scratch you right back across your face

loves to travel tbh she’s been here her whole life but she’s always going somewhere

everyday is fashion week in here like you will never see this lady in sweats like im sorry that’s just not happening

is always up for a good time tbh especially in the bedroom 🤪

can’t cook to save her life

here to be messy xoxo

WANTED CONNECTIONS

ride or die azra my bby

childhood friends who stayed friends

childhood friends who drifted apart

high school sweetheart / first time

ex-friends

unexpected friends

good influence

drinking buddies

enemies

friends with benefits

ex-flings

flings

family friends

older brother figure

#nightrest:intro

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