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#and you really weren't worth the time but the longer this goes on the more I see you need to hear that you're a shit person
my favorite halloween story has little to do with halloween but: once at a college costume party i met a post-grad student who grew up by the coast and came from a family of avid amateur (semi-professional? her mom regularly won tournament prize money) fishermen (fisherpeople?), with the result that she (the post-grad student) had grown up regularly eating fresh seafood multiple nights a week, that was the basic family meal, and when she got to college (hundreds of miles inland) suddenly fresh seafood was very hard to find (on a college student's budget) and she was so frustrated that in junior year (after she moved into a sorority house and had enough space) she concocted a plan to purchase her own aquarium specifically in order to farm/breed her own fresh seafood, and i'm assuming she was so gung-ho that she didn't do her research bc no sooner had she purchased an enormous aquarium off of [craigslist i'm assuming] than she discovered that local pet (aquarium? fish supply) stores either (1.) did not sell species of fish she was interested in eating, (2.) did sell fish she was interested in eating but they were tiny/would take too long to grow to a size worth eating, or (3.) sold fish-she-would-want-to-eat of a size-she-would-eat but at a price that made them more expensive than just going to the fish section of the local grocery store (((did she think they would be cheaper? and if so why buy an aquarium at all why not just buy and quickly consume the fish???))), or (4.) a combo nation of the 3.
But ANYWAY by this point she has already purchased the aquarium, so she goes ahead and buys some tiny fish of a species she was interested in consuming (i want to say guppies. i know they weren't guppies it was another species entirely, probably several different species, but in my headspace that detail has been overwritten with the label "[guppies]" so guppies it is). anyway the guppies don't look particularly delicious but she's observing them pretty often (multiple times a day) in order to track their growth, and soon she's regularly jotting down notes and calculating their caloric intake and predicted weight increase and she's tweaking the aquarium settings to facilitate growth and--basically she becomes an aquarium person. you know, those people who have an aquarium and are heavily mentally focused on the having and maintaining of said aquarium (often in a supposedly leisurely but also completely serious and sedately obsessive manner).
so she gets really into it, and is encouraged by her sorority sisters (who are having fun naming and making up back stories for all the different fishies), and yes i guess she also grows attached to the fish (but this isn't the story of a bunch of fish not getting eaten, ok, she doesn't eat those fish, those fish are no longer for eating, but she still eats plenty of fish whenever she gets the chance, at restaurants and at her parents' house i assume, fish are still being eaten, she does not end up a reformed former fish-eater). oh, and then she goes on to write her senior thesis (? or class thesis or. some final project paper thing) on the fish (or on her aquarium ecosystem? something to do with aquariums), and she decorates her graduation cardboard hat thing with a little finding nemo plushie sewn on.
*GASPS FOR BREATH* (no no wait. ***GULPS LIKE A GUPPY*** hah!) anyway this all happened several years before i even met this woman whose name i don't remember at a college halloween party, but the reason i know this backstory is we had both had too much halloween punch and i asked her "so what are you studying" and she started telling me about how she was in the final year of getting her PhD in Marine Conservation
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slocumjoe · 10 months
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I've said before that the synth thing would work better with a McCarthyism allegory, but for Danse specifically, its so similar to autism that it has to be intentional??
Like. The thing that really solidified that Danse in particular is just straight up about autism is Piper's line in Blind Betrayal. Paraphrased, it goes something like, "I mean...yeah, of course he's a synth. It was kind of obvious, wasn't it? I mean, have you heard him talk?"
The autism accent is a concept that seems to be popping up more recently, but its a real thing, and in my own experience, everyone in my life has been able to clock that there was something different about me from my speech. People thought it was weird that I used "adult" words as a kid, and was very technical and exact when speaking. I was often mistaken as being from places like Brooklyn because I had a weird affectation to my voice.
And there's just. This fucking line. "Have you heard him talk?". Piper is also the person who clicked McDonough as a synth. It's worth noting that McDonough and Danse both use words like "rabble".
But seriously.
Danse goes through his life being respected for his work ethic, intelligence, and strong sense of duty and morals, but he never really bonds with anyone, he doesn't make friends. He's respected, not liked. People want to work with him, but the best they have to say about him is about his work. He makes one single friend in his entire life, and never tries again after that guy dies. And no one tries to befriend him. He's their brother. He's not their friend. And he takes his job too seriously as a commanding officer to attempt emotional connection. He apologizes for overstepping on the few occasions he does.
He talks like a thesaurus, and no one is sure if its to sound smarter, or if that's just genuinely how he thinks. It's strongly implied to be the latter. He's incredibly knowledgeable and passionate about various topics. He sounds like a kid on Christmas when you risk life and limb cracking open a vault that's supposed to have riches, but instead, just has some historical items. He throws his Brotherhood prejudice away the moment he finds a farm run by ghouls that uses pre-war structures in a creative way, and scolds you if you do the Brotherhood thing and insult them. He also seemingly forgets that he's in the Brotherhood when meeting a child ghoul, that kid's parents, a shy, insecure ghoul who clings to children's media (despite Danse finding children's entertainment stupid and a waste of time), and Daisy.
And then there's the synth thing.
Danse has always been Danse, but one little word gets attached to him and his life turns upside down. His work ethic is no longer a work ethic, it's viewed as a perversion. His intelligence and manner of speech are no longer of his own merit and education he had to have given himself, they become inevitable, things he had no say in. His existence is both erased and explained by one word, and anything else is irrelevant or in question. People who once respected him want nothing to do with him, because this one word puts him in a context they find unnatural, corrupted, inhuman. There's even something there with the Institute. Autism is (incorrectly) associated with vaccines, the government, science gone wrong. It's a man-made horror.
And then you have the people he gets lumped in with, after being thrown out for this one word. They take schadenfreude in it. This is comeuppance, this is deserved. This one word, something they take pride in or have sympathy for and want to protect, suddenly becomes weaponized. It's a source of pride for others, but for this one person, we're going to use it as punishment. You weren't with us from the start, so now you really are on your own. It's not that there isn't a right way to be this one word, it's just that there's a wrong way, and even if you change accordingly, you will never belong with the rest of us.
Its. Autism is about exclusion, from everyone and everything. Always being an outsider, often too polite or nervous or jaded to even bother looking in. And at every point in Danse's life he didn't belong. He was a rogue synth, so he didn't belong in the Institute. He naturally thrives as a soldier, so he didn't belong as a junk seller in Rivet City. He was a synth and considerably more kind and compassionate than the rest of the BOS, so he didn't belong there. And because he was a BOS soldier and is still working out some bad traits after his exile, he isn't welcomed by the people who he was thrown to. Everywhere he goes, there's a big neon sign over his head that changes to whatever word will ward off everyone around him and he's so used to it, the thing that makes him angriest about being a synth is that he doesn't even have parents. He doesn't even have that connection to the world, of being born into it. There is nothing he can connect himself to beyond the Institute (which he hates) and the Brotherhood (which, if he continues to connect himself to, will drive him to suicide out of sense of duty, and he already agreed to not do that)
Its just. His entire story is one of absolute isolation and the final dickpunch of "You've always hated yourself, right? Good news, here's a reason to kill yourself that's professional and won't illicit pity from your peers, so no one will judge you for doing it or grieve you."
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mikodrawnnarratives · 5 months
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TW (IMPLIED) CHARACTER DEATH
TW BLOOD
(not graphic blood but I'll still tag it just in case)
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@naffeclipse
Might want to turn up your brightness for this one fellas
This is Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
(might end up being three parts actually lol)
(my script is like 3-4 pages long so....)
Long post under the cut
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I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.
Take me back to the night we met.
I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Haunted by the ghost of you
Oh, take me back to the night we met
- The night we met by Lord Hurdon
This comic stems from my need for them to have a satisfying conclusion OKAY
I mean it's bittersweet but at least they make up (to a degree)
Explanation below (kind of spoiling next part) (kindof almost not really idk):
After being dangerously injured by a cryptid, Vanessa managed to contact the one person she wished she could have said goodbye to the most.
I'll explain more about why Vanessa is the way she is in the next part but without spoiling, Vanessa has grown a little since the last time she saw y/n. That, in combination with the fact she's bleeding out and taking on the mentality "fuck it why not", has led her to this decision.
This comic kinda goes off of the idea she gets an inkling of doubt in her mind about whether y/n is still "alive".
The next part will go into it more but that doubt mixed with her resolve leads her to at least try.
She tries to call y/n. They don't answer. She sends a text and no longer has the strength to hold on to her phone.
I don't think she'll be completely resolved to Vampires having actual consciousness but in her last moments she's also just wishing for her friend back. Her human friend. The one who has been dead all this time. Vanessa has a history with seeing ghosts so
It's worth a try
I'll let you decide which phone of y/n's she tried to contact.
Assuming y/n unblocked her on their previous phone at some point
So yeah, Vanessa in this comic is going back and forth on whether this is y/n or not. She's bleeding out, so does it really matter?
It's almost selfish how much she wishes to be free of the ache in her chest. The fact in the end, she couldn't free her friend.
You'll see more of this in the next part. I don't want to spoil it too much.
She doesn't wish to carry this burden of failing her friend. She reaches for a conclusion. She wants this to end well. She wants her friend to be okay. She wants to believe everything has worked out. She wants everyone she cares about to be okay without her.
She'll throw out her wish to the world. And hopefully, it'll come true.
She'll throw out her wish to you.
It is you.
Right?
I may have spoiled the next part a little bit oopsies
I just want to explain why Vanessa's different y'know
And y/n has their own conflicting emotions.
Even when things are a semblance of normal, it can't be. They are a vampire now. It tears them up inside.
But. Vanessa lets them touch her.
They've been afraid to do that. For the entirety of this reunion cut short.
She lets them touch her.
And again, Vanessa wouldn't be this way if... it weren't for a few somebodies.
But that's enough spoiling the next part.
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Unexpected
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TW: Angst. Hints of domestic abuse. Fluffy Rafe. Protective Rafe. Mentions of pregnancy.
SUMMARY: Rafe defends you against his father and reminds you why this new life with him is worth it all. 
WORD COUNT: 2200
REQUESTED
Hi! I have a request for when you come back! I hope it isn’t too similar to anything you’ve written before. This is kind of long so if you write this please take out/change anything you want! So you are a pogue and are dating rafe (not canon rafe) and ward is still kind of ehh about you (meanwhile rose, sarah, and wheezie love you) and your parents are still ehh about rafe. Even though you and rafe are always careful, you end up pregnant and when you and rafe tell your parents they kick you out. So of course rafe tells you to move in with him and when rafe (and you) gets back home he asks everyone to come downstairs and you guys tell his family. Ward plays it cool but later that night you wake up in the middle of the night to go get a glass of water and but see rose standing in the hallway listening to rafe and ward arguing about you and ward says stuff like “how could you be so stupid” “she’s just using you for money” and rafe is trying to be civil and not argue (cause non canon rafe) but then ward says something REALLY bad like “are you even sure it’s yours?” And rafe goes OFF on ward and it gets really bad that rose and eventually you step in and rafe looks at you and is just thinking like “please tell me she didn’t hear all of this”. You and rose calm rafe and ward down and go to bed and rafe is just like “what all did you hear” and you tell him and he’s like “you know everything he said isn’t true” “if he ever talks to you or treats you like that you tell me”. You could end it here and just have it be them going to bed or maybe add the next day (or a few days later) ward apologizes. If you wanted to make it even longer then maybe some time jumps to different stages! Like first doctor appointment, finding out what you’re having, stating to show more, etc.  Can’t wait for your return! 
*THIS IS SUCH A BEAUTIFUL REQUEST AND I HOPE I AM ABLE TO DO IT JUSTICE!*
Unexpected
You weren't exactly sure what you were expecting, but this certainly wasn't it. The expressions in which you only wanted to wear pride in reference to you, were now filled with such disappointment. A silent conversation of lowered eyes and scowled mouths that ultimately offered their lack of support in a mutual shaking of their heads. It was during this that Rafe extended his large hand over yours as confirmation. A quiet but powerful grip that reminded you that you were in this together. 
"We raised you to be smarter than this..." Your mother finally spoke as Rafe tensed to how you were addressed. Yet, he did not want to infiltrate the clear frailty of the situation you seemed to have somewhat control over. Instead, he remained on the fringes of a defense. 
"I hope you don't expect us to be raising this baby..." Your father added. 
"Sir, I-" Rafe attempted. 
"You've done enough." Rafe's jaw clenched as he carried his hand to your knee in a further attempt to console you. 
"We've been careful. Always. I never wanted to disrespect her, I've only ever wanted to take care of her..." Rafe validated and simplified his intentions as your eyes illuminated and paused from the tears your parents brought behind your eyes. 
"You think you can?"
"I know, I can..." Your father's jaw pulled to a cocked rest as he slowly nodded. 
"Then she's yours." Your mother looked at your dad for a second before bowing in submission. 
"I think everyone's a bit on edge-"
"One more word, Rafe..." Your father threatened as you moved tearfully to stand before he collected your hand. 
"Just come with me..."
"My stuff-" You looked towards the hall leading to your bedroom as you sniffled. Once happy memories in pictures surrounding this heartbreaking exchange as you could feel the tension grow the longer you lingered. 
"I will take care of you. I promised that a long time ago," His eyes rose to your parents. "And it's a shame they won't get to see it." Before you could reject, he guided you to his car. 
The car remained silent as his hand kept to your thigh. Not a moment since you read the handful of tests to be positive that you were left untouched. 
"I can't do it again..." You confessed as he cut the engine before moving out of the car. In what you believed to be anger, you prepared for a true apprehension to place the blame on you. But once that door came open, he lowered until he could see your expression from beneath the fold you'd made towards him. A bent finger offering every contortion of your expression now made knowledgeable to him. 
"It's you and me. Nobody else but us," His hand rested on your stomach, "matters. And I'm sorry it hurts, but I promise you, I'm never going anywhere. Not when you've given me something so...so beautiful...something that's mine. Ours " He quickly corrected as you nodded. 
"Ours..." You agreed as he helped you from the car, treating you as if you were glass before leading you into Tannyhill. It had taken only a moment before Rose and Wheezie were already in the kitchen discussing your outfit and how they favored it. Of the handful of girls they knee held Rafe's attention, you had been the one in which they adored. All because you didn't care about price tags or club memberships. You cared about authentic hearts, no matter how battered. And Rafe was one you wanted to nurture as you saw the potential beauty it possessed. And even under the shade of a star crossed sky, it bloomed by the nurture offered by you both. 
"What, are you pregnant or something?" Sarah asked with indifference, kind enough to you to not be an enemy, but too wrapped in her own drama to worry about getting close to you one way or another. When your eyes darted to Rafe, who smiled with nervous pride, Sarah's expression changed. 
"Shit..." 
"Well..." Ward was taken aback, catching the confession at the very last second before surprising you with an embrace. But there was something in the grasp that was clearly forced. 
"Her family wasn't as...receptive..."
"Our house is always open to you. Especially now..." His eyes fell to your stomach as Wheezie was nearly bouncing off the walls from excitement. A thousand and one questions came about from baby names to gender wishes as you were unaware Ward had pulled Rafe away. 
After being given the celebration you were denied by your own blood, you were taken to your room. But as you had fallen asleep in his arms rather quickly when he returned to you,  from an exhausting day, you were too immersed in slumber to notice the isolation that came somewhere after you found this rest. 
But your feet were only able to move a few steps before muffled voices were heard beneath your soles. Low enough to not make out the conversation itself, but passionate enough to shake the antiquated bones of the landmark you resided in beneath the grace of the owners. Because of this, whatever reason you'd been made conscious for faltered, and you searched the source of such vocality. 
At the bottom of the steps you would find Rose against the wall outside Ward's study, a pinch on the bridge of her nose as her head came to shake. You knee the scene well as it was often a ridicule of Rafe in what should have been kind yet constructive criticism. 
"We were safe-"
"Apparently not safe enough! I knew if it came down between you and Sarah that I wouldn't be able to rely on you for the brains of any operation, but how could you be so stupid?" Your eyes narrowed. Rafe never explained how cruel his father could be. Instead, he evaded the moments instead and often distracted you with soft kisses, your teasing, and even eventually sultry games of tag, but never in detail as you witnessed now. And it made your blood boil and her jaw tighten before Rose caught your arm. 
"Let them deal with it..." She spoke in warning, true fear behind her eyes as you released a sigh before looking in the slit of the door. 
"She's just using you for your money, don't you get that?!" You commended Rafe for remaining posies through this emotional degradation. Hurtful words from someone who was always supposed to instruct had spoken volumes of his character to not retaliate. But it would take one unwise comment and he was in his soles and towards his father. 
"Sounds to me she doesn't have very high standards...and she hangs around those other pogues all the time. Where she belongs. But how do you know it's even yours?" Rose bolted into the room, trying to keep the men apart as the volume became too obnoxious to make out what either of them had said. But where you were worried about Rafe acting on impulse and doing something he would regret, he was focused on you. Hoping you didn't hear how his father spoke of you. Especially after the rejection and heartlessness of your own family. But now it was your turn to defend the relationship so many had waged against. 
"I love Rafe, Mister Cameron-" He scoffed, fishing a hand through his hair to correct it as you held yourself in front of Rafe as his hands were soft on your hips. But when you spoke these words to hope it would soften the tension,he only scoffed. 
"What could you possibly see in him?" You could feel Rafe deflate behind you. His sole weakness against his promise to you having Ren his father's words. 
"Everything you don't." Ward sent himself forward to speak as Rafe stood before you in immediate defense before you continued. Even as his body shook, symptoms of an unhealthy exchange worn in his tremors, his priority was to protect you. And his child. 
"Rafe has more heart and compassion, that I am beyond grateful he doesn't get from you. And not only is he going to make an incredible father, despite the fact his role model was less than ideal, he is going to excel in all he does because he is smart and devoted and attentive and liayal."
"If you think you get a single penny-" 
"I don't want your money!"
"Maybe not now, but when you are eating off of three days old take out and your power gets cut off-"
"You have no idea, do you?" You asked with narrowed eyes as his eyes rolled. 
"Humor me..."
"Just how much he is going to excel being away from you..." You interlaced your fingers in Rafe's as you led him from the house and down the driveway. Mindless steps continued until he pulled you to a stop. 
"Maybe we can stay at Topper's just for the night until I can get a plan...But I promise you-"
"The only promise you need to make me is that you'll love me...This responsibility doesn't fall on you, Rafe. Not alone anyway." He bowed his head. "And he wasn't right about what he said. Any of it."
"I'm sorry you had to hear any of it...I just want to protect you and I feel like you being with me only hurts you..."
"What hurts is being away from you." To this, he illuminated. More than the stars overhead or the fire in your hearts. 
"Well then you'll never be in pain again, baby. You're stuck with me..." 
"And you're stuck with us..." He grinned widely as your hand set over your stomach. 
The first few months were trying for the initial changes of the coming life within you. Milestones and moments came and distanced as occasional stress and tension found their way within. Following the first doctor's appointment, and a guilt trip from Rose and Wheezie, Ward altered his attempts until you were on chivalrous terms. Maybe never close, but close enough to supply a healthy enough environment for the coming child. 
A boy. A baby boy you'd hoped would harbor Rafe's kind eyes and strong heart. But he would teasingly argue against this as  you were wrapped within his arms at night. The days that continued were spent watching you round, kicks and heartbeats sounded at every chance and sonogram photos hung proudly in the mirror of your shared bedroom to view them as often as possible. 
"You and me, baby..." Rafe reminded by his arms coming around you with a humorous strain to what was once so effortlessly, his hands coming to a rest over yours as your son kicked. 
"Us."
"All of us."
"Forever." You turned to kiss him, such a simple notion validating why this would never be a regret or a mistake in any context. Even if it was unexpected, the best things often are...
TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916 @belcalis9503
MASTERLIST
RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST
MARCH MADNESS MASTERLIST
2ND RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST
3rd RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST
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My Wife, My Home (Javier Peña)
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Pairing: Javier Peña X Wife!Reader
Summary: after leaving Cali, Javi wanted to settle down, he wanted a home, and a morning with his wife makes him feel right at home.
Warnings: 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it kids, be safe) oral (f receiving), fingering, creampie, dirty talk, soft dom!Javi, bit of choking, housewife kink, established married relationship (assume bc in involved), cursing duh
I also think this goes without saying but reader is Hispanic here, feels more accurate
WC: 3.1k
A/N: not me writing javi shit like my life depended on it, if only I did my school work this quick. Yeah so I'm not even gonna lie, this was the product of me being horny while watching narcos. It is currently 3am on a school night and I'm out here writing smut. So I really fucking hope it's worth it. Enjoy the sin you filthy bitches
Ps: theres a high chance I might make most of the readers from my upcoming Javi fics Hispanic/spanish speaking, it just makes more sense to me since A) he lived in Colombia for a decade and B) hes from a predominantly Hispanic city in Texas, it must feel more accurate. Also I want to give myself representation in fics. But that's about as far as I'll go with specifications, it shouldn't be too disruptive. Reader will just know Spanish so.
Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated!
Home. It had always been a foreign concept to Javier. He never really pictured himself settling down, and god knows he tried. It didn't quite work out, and for the better part of a decade he was down in Colombia basically asking for a bullet every day. The last thing he ever expected was to get married, leave said country and settle down. But he did, he fell in love like a fucking idiot and once his assignment in Cali was done, he asked for an immediate transfer back home. He was done with the bullets, death and blood, he wanted peace. And for once in over a decade, he actually felt at peace and like he belonged somewhere. With someone. 
It was extremely rare for Javier to sleep on most days, even if he no longer had to wake up to the sound of gunshots, or to a call to the office, or get no sleep altogether, so many years of the same can create new, hard to break habits. His time in Colombia had turned him into an extremely light sleeper. This morning was the extremely rare instance where he slept through the night and most of the morning. He blamed you for being so goddamn irresistible he couldn't keep his hands off you last night. If it hadn't been for the fact that the sun had illuminated pretty much the entire room and your side of the bed was cold and empty, he probably would've easily slept all morning. But alas, the lack of your warm body next to his was often the only reason he got up most mornings. If you weren't in bed he couldn't sleep. It was that simple. 
After a long while of tossing and turning, Javier peeled one eye open, adjusting to the sudden exposure of light before he turned on his back and opened both eyes fully. He blinked a couple of times as he patted the spot next to him, just for good measure, and you weren't in fact in bed. He yawned softly as he sat up. He didn't hear running water so you probably weren't in the bathroom. He thought for a second and half smiled, knowing where you were. 
He could already hear the faint sound of your voice and quiet music playing as he headed downstairs. And fuck did he loved the sight in front of him. His perfect fucking wife, barefoot and wearing one of his too-big tshirts as you stood in the kitchen, hips swaying softly along to the music on the radio. He stood there, simply admiring the sight in front of him for a good minute. He didn't know exactly what you were making, but he just knew that whatever it was, it smelled fucking amazing, and you looked good doing it too. Something about seeing you just so comfortable, like you were in your element, it made him completely lose his mind. He liked to think of himself as progressive, he knew perfectly that you were capable of working and he would support you if you did, but he loved the idea of you, turning the house he bought you into the home he so desperately wanted. It gave him something good, something fucking amazing and something that he thought long ago he was no longer deserving of. His perfect wife ran the perfect home, while he did everything else, it worked. And he could only imagine how much more perfect it would be the day you have kids filling your home. But that was a talk for another day. For now, he just wanted his wife. 
Javier eventually stopped creepily stalking and actually approached you. Your back was turned to him so he took that chance to come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, he leaned down and whispered, "Buenos días dulzura." 
"Ay carajo," you cursed, jumping a bit startled. You were a bit too engulfed in both the music and making breakfast, so much that you didn't hear Javier come down. You eventually smiled, giggling softly. "You scared me, pendejo." 
"Jeez that mouth," Javier laughed and clicked his tongue in disapproval, he would note that for later. You laughed and rolled your eyes at him, resuming your task of whisking some eggs in a bowl. Without saying much, he tucked his face into your neck as he pulled you flat against his chest, happily taking in your scent. And this, the familiar warmth of your body against his, your scent mixed with his, this was exactly what home felt like. "What are you making cariño?" 
"Scrambled eggs, bacon and pancakes." You responded with a soft hum, giggling when you felt his lips tickle your neck. "There's fresh coffee too, if you want some." All you heard was a stifled hum because he was already making work of kissing your neck, his tongue sticking out to trace over your skin. You gasped quietly, the sound turning into a giggle as you tilted your head to give Javier more room, and that was the invitation he needed to press you flush against the counter with a sudden force that made you have to brace yourself. He didn't know what it was, maybe it was the image of his pretty wife, in his clothes, in his kitchen making him breakfast on a Sunday morning. Or maybe it was just the simple fact that he simply couldn't keep his hands off you. The hell did it matter, he just wanted you, that's all that mattered, right?
"Javi," you gasped with a small chuckle and you sucked in a sharp breath when you felt one of his hands travel down your stomach until his hand slipped into your panties. You had to set down the whisk and set the bowl aside to compose yourself, "mi cielo I'm— fuck— I'm trying to make you — fuck Javi— make you breakfast." 
"No I know," you could just hear the smugness in his voice, and you just knew he was smirking even though you couldn't see it. He pulled his hand out of your panties and spun you around, his lips came crashing against yours as soon as you were facing him. He gripped your jaw as he slipped in his tongue, taking your breath away for a few seconds before he pulled away to look at you. When he met your eye, the sight of you already desperate and panting made his skin burn with a mixture of lust and love. "But I want you more." 
At this point you didn't even have to say anything, the sight of you, flushed and breathless was enough. You simply nodded. Once Javier made sure nothing was on the stove, he crouched down, grabbed the back of your thighs and hoisted you up with ease. His lips were back on yours as he walked a couple feet to the kitchen island and he set down on it. The cold surface against your bare thighs made you hiss, but you quickly forgot about the discomfort once you saw him drop to his knees in front of you, brown eyes staring up at you hungrily as he placed both of his palms flat on your thighs. 
"C'mon baby, open," he muttered as he pressed his lips to your inner thigh and positioned himself between your thighs, his broad shoulders inevitably prying them open. He tore your panties off so quickly you thought he ripped them, but then again you didn't care, he'd buy you a new pair. You heard him mutter a quiet 'fuck' before he leaned foward and licked a long stripe over your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your lips parted open as a small gasp slipped from your lips, your thighs already starting to shake and your heart to race. 
Javier caught a quick glance of you, already so desperate and eager for him to ruin you, to have his mouth on you until you were shaking. That was exactly what he wanted. There was a small smirk on his lips as he gripped your thighs and brought them over his shoulders so he could bring you closer. And that he did. He closed his lips around your clit and swirled his tongue in circles, lavishing the nerve with attention. You actually cried out this time and one of your hands flew to his hair while the other somewhat balanced you up. 
"Javi, Javi, Javi." You said his name like a quiet praise as he licked through your folds, sucked your clit and slipped his tongue inside you, working his tongue like that was the only thing he had to do in life, like this was his mission. You legs trembled around his head and your hips involuntarily lifted off the counter, but Javier slipped an arm over your stomach. 
"Stay still dulzura," he muttered as he held you down and two fingers from his other hand replaced his tongue inside you. You nearly slipped off the counter then. Javier curled his fingers just as he applied the slightest bit of pressure on your lower abdomen with his hand, almost as if to give you a warning. "What did I just say cariño? Be a good girl and stay still." 
You gasped when his tongue circled around your clit again as his fingers worked inside you, but you managed to stay still, only your thighs trembling as you gave up on your balance and laid with your back flat on the counter. 
"That's it baby. Good girl." He hummed, feeling how your walls closed around his fingers, he knew your body like his own, he knew you were so close. He added a third finger, successfully stretching you enough to have you screaming. "You're so close aren't you dulzura? Come on, come for me." 
He didn't even have to say it, the second he added that third finger it became too much, too sensitive and you felt everything all at once. It was all so much and you loved it. 
The taste of your release coated his tongue and the sounds of your moans sent him on overdrive. He wanted to feel you, not just like this, no he needed to feel you squeeze him as came around him. He fucking needed it. 
He gave you a minute, he ran his tongue over your clit slowly, fingers still inside you until you were clasping his head with your thighs and you were pulling at his hair. Only then he pulled away. He left a hot kiss on your inner thigh before he stood up. You gasped softly when his fingers left you, but you were ready for something even better to replace them. 
Your legs were dangling off the counter and you were staring up at the ceiling as you tried to catch your breath. Out of your blurry vision you saw your husband tower over you. You hadn't really taken the time to look at him this morning. His brown hair was tousled from both sleep and your fingers, his face was flushed red and his jaw had small dark patches of hair growing, guess he didn't shave this morning. It was such a gorgeous fucking sight. 
"Tired already dulzura?" He teased, helping you sit up, "we can sto—" 
"Absolutely fucking not. I need you Javi." You begged him, making an attempt to tug his boxers down his hips. He watched you with amusement and bit his lip, nodding. There was nothing he loved more than seeing his wife so desperate and begging, begging him to fuck her. He knew damn well he was the only one who could give you exactly what you needed, he gave you just as much as you gave him, and he took pride in that. 
"You look so pretty when you beg," he pressed a wet and sloppy kiss to your lips before he grabbed you by your hips, pulled you off the island and turned you around, bending you over. "Mhm, I'll give you exactly what you need, dulzura, just relax for me." 
He tugged his boxers off the rest of the way before he eased a hand up your spine, holding you steady with the other hand on your hip. He felt the way your shoulders relaxed and your whole body gave out basically, giving him the freedom to do as he pleased. No hesitation, no questions asked, you trusted him with your life and he loved that. 
He slid inside you with ease, his fingers and tongue having worked perfectly, your walls still squeezed him so tight he rolled his eyes back and an uneven exhale left his lips as he bottomed out himself inside of you. You, on the other hand, were not so modest, an obscenely loud moan slipped past your lips, making you thank god for Javi's idea of buying a house with no neighbors too close by. It was just always so intense at first, maybe you were just hypersensitive from having a previous orgasm, but then again, Javier felt the same. He always had to control himself, remind himself to take it slow otherwise the feeling of you would become so much he would fucking lose it. 
He went slow at first, taking his time with each thrust, allowing you to draw out the feeling each and every time he hit that perfect spot. You loved the feeling, but you needed more. 
"Javi.." you whined softly, gripping the counter to brace yourself for what you were about to ask for, "more. I need more, please." 
"Oh, my pretty girl wants more huh?" You didn't have to say anything else, Javier was a simple man, he did as his wife asked and if you wanted more he would give you more. He would give you anything you wanted. His grip on your hip tightened as he picked up his pace, going from a gentle rock of his hips to absolutely wrecking and unforgiving. He had you screaming in a matter of seconds. "Oh yeah, you like that, don't you bonita?" 
"Fuck Javi— feels so good," you cried out as you gripped the counter with a bruising grip, and even then your chest would still slip back and forth with each snap of his hips. Your mind was completely clouded, all you could think about was the burning feeling in your stomach. 
"You're taking me so well, dulzura. So fucking well." He groaned out, teeth digging into his bottom lip as his thrusts got harsher. Judging by the way your walls were clenching around him he knew you were close to tipping over the edge, and as soon as you did he would follow, he knew that much. "So fucking perfect. You're my perfect little wife, walking around my house, wearing my fucking clothes, just begging to get fucked in my kitchen. Do you have any idea what that does to me bonita?" His thrusts only got harder and harsher with each rasped word he spoke. He also slipped his hand down your body and started rubbing quick circles on your swollen clit, adding on to your already oversensitive state.
"Oh fuck Javi. It's too much— fuck I need to—" your words got cut off by Javier pulling you up by your hair and holding you flush against his chest as he fucked you relentlessly, his quick and uneven breaths filling your ear. 
"That's right dulzura, just come for me," he rasped in your ear, his hand resting on the column of your neck as he gripped your jaw and turned your face to capture your lips into a hot messy kiss. He swallowed your moans and held you as you trembled, your legs giving out as a blinding orgasm washed over you. Javier fucked you through it, a moan of his own slipping past his lips when you walls started to squeeze him. 
"Fuck baby just like that," he panted, his thrusts becoming short and sharp as he chased his own high. You let him do so, the over stimulation had you trembling and your vision became blurry with tears. The soft whimpers of his name that came out of your mouth only fueled him further. His eyes suddenly rolled into the back of his head and his mouth fell open as he suddenly stopped and held you down on his cock as he spilled himself inside you, "Oh fuck. That's it, dulzura, that's it. Good girl." 
You weren't sure how long you just stood there, holding each other. You could feel your combined releases begin to drip down your thigh, but you didn't give a fuck. This just felt right. This felt exactly right. You knew it, and Javier knew it. This is exactly where you were meant to be, where you felt at peace. Tangled up with each other, together. This was where Javier felt safe, but it wasn't a house in Texas, that wasn't his home. You were. Whenever you were, that's what he was meant to be. That's where his home was. He was reminded of it every time he held you like this. 
Javier made the first attempt to move, he seemed to have composed himself a bit quicker than you. But then again, he had just fuck the lights out of you mere seconds ago, so it was understandable. He stepped back, exhaling sharply when he slipped out of you. Immediately, juices dripped down your thighs and you hissed softly, suddenly feeling empty. He caught a quick glimpse of the mess he left between your legs and smirked softly. He was always proud of his work. 
"My pretty wife," he hummed, absolutely loving the love sick fucked out look on your face. He adored the look in your eyes every time you looked at him. You always had this loving look in your eyes. He always said you were perfect, that you were the perfect wife, and to you, he was that. He was the perfect husband. He ran a hand over your face and gently brushed your hair back, a gentle and sweet gesture completely opposing his more animalistic and harsh thrusts from before. He exhaled sharply as he pressed a slower and sweeter kiss to your lips. "So perfect. You were made for me, verdad que sí dulzura? I love you so much." 
"I love you too, Javi." You cupped his jaw, noting how flushed his face and chest were. You wouldn't be surprised if you looked even more fucked out than he did though. 
"C'mon dulzura, let's get you cleaned up." He grabbed your hand and started to pull you away when you looked at him suspiciously. 
"Am I going to shower alone?" 
"No," he scoffed like the question offended him and continued to drag you, a small grin tugging at his lips, "we're just gonna do this all over again." 
The fucked out smile that fell on your lips only reminded him how right he was.
Javier Peña, this is your home. 
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clydesavage-thefox147 · 6 months
Text
So, I feel the need to say something here.
So, I watched a recent video Thomas has been in with Smosh Pit. It was overall a sweet and funny video. But that's not what this is about. It's about the ending. When Thomas was asked the quintessential question of "where can they find you?" He goes like "Oh I do shorts, long form and short form" and "keeping up Vine". I was like yeah makes sense to bring that up, that's fine. But then he brought up Roleslaying with Roman. He was very happy to bring it up. However, no mention of Sanders Sides at all. I get it, Sides could be chalked up the being long form Vine things seeing as the characters are from Vine but...feels off. I remember times Thomas did advertise Sides on collabs and stuff. But other times he wouldn't really advertise anything specifically and just say the socials' names and just say basic shit like "fun videos with nice messages" etc.
But, I've also taken note that Thomas has been REEEEEEALLY pushing Roleslaying, a series that a lot of us weren't really expecting to be the way it turned out to be. We were just told "Roman series" for like a couple years before it was officially revealed. We all expected Sides Roman and we all felt kinda ripped off. Don't get me wrong, the series is nice and all, has a decent story, and it can be engaging to a degree, but it does have it pit falls. But, he's been really adamant on getting the series popular. Constantly promoting it, making a podcast for it(which to me seems unnecessary) and what seems like begging(to me) for 5 star reviews so that Roman of Reston can read them. Now it's like number 25 on Leisure on Spotify because of it. That is great and all but again, Thomas seems like he's forgetting where this series even originated from...Sanders Sides. His bread and butter. The series that garnered a majority of fans he has. A series we're all waiting for proper episodes for with the same spark and energy that it had originally. It seems Thomas has just lost interest in Sides but knows it's what got him popular on the YouTube space so he keeps it up for the money and relevance(for example Patreon branding). He says he still loves the series and enjoys working on it but the longer it takes to produce, the more it seems like it's taken a back seat in priority. I really hope this season finale is really worth the hype he's been pushing for it. But, the way he's been pushing Roleslaying makes it seem like he's saying "Like this! Please Like this! I wanna do this more!" Thomas, buddy, you need to realize that Roleslaying wouldn't exist without the popularity of Sanders Sides. Hell, Sanders Sides wouldn't exist without the Vine characters.
Now look, I get that Thomas shouldn't be tied down to just doing Sides content. But, using it now as a kind of cash grap and attention grabber like dangling keys in front of child feels sad to me. Feels like lately he's been using it as a buzz word or just for products...which is ironic because all sides merch has been wiped off the merch store. Sure, it could be making way for new ideas but they've made several over the years under the same manufacturer and didn't do this before. So, it feels off. If it was because they were out of stock, they could just list it as "Sold Out", not wipe it entirely. And Now he's released Roleslaying merch and new Could be Gayer merch. Which that's fine, just feels weird that that is all that is available right now. Especially because I remember Thomas talking about hoodies for each side back in December of 2021 but a manufacturing issue came up. He said that it was due to the company not being able to do "custom orders" like that detailed. Which, I understood. But then like a week or so later, the Bucket Hats were released which just didn't really help the previous statement. So this whole thing feels off. I'm just hoping it's just a wait of restock or new design releases in the future.
I know this year has been hard on Thomas to do what he wanted in terms of the season finale. I hope that now that things are seemingly getting better, he'll continue the promise he made this year into next year of getting at least Part 1 of it out, maybe two if lucky. I just feel like Sides has plummeted from grace. What it once had is now a slowly crumbling ancient temple, that the more you try to patch it and keep it up..it doesn't last long. If there isn't a significant restoration done soon, it'll all fall apart. I pray that once the Season finale is released, the fandom will have a resurgence. Old fanders come back, animatics are everywhere, art is flying out like hot cakes, forums are booming, it's trending everywhere, and the fandom is reborn...and hope it stays that way into the third and final season. Hell, I hope Joan does come back to a degree and revive the husk the series has become. But, it's up to them to decide that. Now, seems like Quil is the only one left of the old writers of the series. And if she leaves, season 3 is going to be wild and may not even feel canon but again we have yet to see that.
I just want what drew me to this series back again. Is that too much to ask genuinely?
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credince--writes · 1 year
Text
Deep In Those Woods.
Keegan P. Russ x Fem!Reader
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3
AO3
You find a strange man in the woods, no doubt running from the federation. He seems, well, in simple terms beat to shit. May your act of kindness not go unpunished.
...
Alr guys, I've tried my hand at writing x reader but it goes so much goddamn faster writing for vague characters versus 'yourself'. BUT IMA TRY IT AGAIN BITCH!
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It wasn't no man's land, but it had seemed no man dared to step into these treacherous lands.
Of course, until they did.
The thick woods, large mountains, and the pure water of the creeks that ran through the lands were seemingly forgotten.
Of course, it was, all until it wasn't.
It started with limited activity, maybe a helicopter, maybe the sound of a plane buzzing past too high in the sky to really know who or what it exactly was.
That's around the time he went missing, your brother that is.
The presence of Federation soldiers was small but large enough to know that this wasn't a simple injury in the woods- a broken ankle, anything of the sort would've been called through the radio.
You'd trusted him enough, trusted his skills to not fall victim to a bear attack. You'd both been raised out here- knew how it worked. It would take more than the maternal rage of a bear protecting her cubs to take either of you down.
Your father was what you'd consider a prepper. Long paranoid and embodied with the 'True American Passion', which was then instilled into you both from a young age. The property was bought long ago and turned into an off-the-grid homestead far away from the nearest town. When the evacuations had begun the two of you had waited before looting.
It seemed wrong at first.
But it was for the best.
The broken windows of the old shopfronts a days travel one way you'd gazed through as a little girl. Ripping open the doors to cars to pump the diesel from their tanks. The cases of fuel stabilizers were put to good use after managing to hotwire an old truck.
There was resistance, but if your father had taught you anything it was to stay far, far away from organizations like that. The kind that would preach equality, to give to the poor and help the weak but would strip you of your resources if they only knew how well you were stocked.
It wasn't selfish, no.
This was survival.
But that was a long time ago.
Dad died of a heart attack a few years ago. He was buried under that apple tree he'd snap a branch from to beat either of you two if God forbid you stepped out of line.
Seemed like a fitting place.
Better than feeding him to the pigs.
Civilization had started to heal itself, the local farmers proving their worth after the large highway's bridges were blown up. She'd remember vaguely hearing it was the ranchers, banding together to protect their lands.
Either way, whoever had done it had done a good job. The landscape protected those who called it home, those who respected the danger of its beauty.
And the days would blend together- the crippling feeling of loneliness, the suffocating sound of silence filling the cabin. You prayed your brother was alright- you could feel, deep down, that he was, he had to be alright. But you couldn't go look for him-
You weren't naive.
You know what they'd do to you if they captured you.
Your knowledge wasn't useful to them, no something much more horrifying.
Your body.
The soft clucks of chickens could only do so much to fill the void- the carnal need for social interaction. Even the arguments over the smallest things with your brother scratched the necessary itch, but once all of the chores had been done, everything dusted, organized, canned, prepped, dinner made, herbs dried, pillows fluffed, clothes mended.
You'd sit in silence.
Waiting.
...
Keegan was tired.
Exhausted.
Running on the fumes of fumes.
And God, did everything hurt.
He'd been hurt worse before- he thinks. But he knew it was starting to get bad, really, really bad when he could no longer feel the piercing pain in his chest, the throb of his ribs, the searing pain in his thigh.
His attackers hadn't survived- he knew that much. But his radio had fallen victim, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was close to being a casualty as well.
But he was stubborn.
The kind of stubborn bred into his genes.
He kept moving, stumbling through the forest bouncing from one tree to the next, tripping over himself and sending himself tumbling over a ledge and into a creek.
The water was cold-
He could feel the water slowly trickling over his cheek, soaking into his clothes as the soothing song of the water meandered past lulled his sight into darkness.
...
You suppose you could fill part of today's void with laundry, maybe even dipping your feet into the creek would bring some kind of temporary relief. The song of the creek shooing away the silence while you'd crouch in its safety.
Pulling the basket down, making your way out and through the pathways feeling the morning sun kiss the back of your neck as you marched seemingly on autopilot through the trail and onward.
The songbirds in the morning, the light hazy sound that the bugs would make as they hid in their crevices.
The sound of your footsteps soft against the fallen leaves and moss, the occasional squelch of mud.
Making your way to the creek, finding the large rock you'd sit on, and waiting to procrastinate the inevitable chore you'd find yourself mindlessly toiling at until sunset.
But there was a boot.
Why was there a boot in the water?
Your eyes narrowed at it, fell to its side sunken, and caught against stones with its added water weight.
Fear crept up the back of your neck as the implications of another person nearby becoming much, much more material. It wasn't something that could simply drift along the creek-
someone was here.
And there was no way to know if they were friendly- if there even was such a thing as friendly anymore.
Hesitantly, pushing your hands onto the cold stone and stepping into the creek, leaning forward to peer up the stream for your eyes to land on what was seemingly a corpse-
missing a boot.
A rifle strewn to his side, a mask, a helmet- a thick vest with a seemingly endless number of things tacked and strapped onto it.
This was a soldier.
You stepped forward, against better judgment to further investigate, eyes falling on the deathly pale skin. Hand reaching hesitantly up to grip the hem of the mask, some kind of skull-like distortion painted into the worn fabric.
Their black grease paint smeared and mixed with blood, eyes shut-
Which is why you felt like you'd jumped out of your skin when his eyes opened in a flash- the moment you'd tugged the mask upward. A large hand splashing through the shallow water and gripping onto your wrist, grip deathly strong as you shrunk back trying to pull your wrist away.
"Ssm.. Away." He shouted, voice slurred and eyes staring off into nothing as if his cold and tense body was acting on nothing but instinct.
English?
Was he-
He just spoke English.
He was American-
His grip became weak, his hand falling to his side as his head lolled as he lost consciousness again. Your body sparks like a live wire as you lunged forward, hands gripping onto his vest and calling out to him, trying to have him open his eyes again to speak, to clarify a thousand questions racing through your mind at that moment.
Your head lifted, frantically searching your surroundings trying to see if anyone had been with him. Letting out a frustrated puff and standing, trying to grip onto a strap on his vest and dragging the accumulated sopping wet dead weight of the large, unconscious man onto the moist dirt shoreline of the small creek.
Struggling- thoroughly before getting his upper body onto the dirt looking around as if questioning your own sanity.
Was this a good idea?
How could it be a good, idea- this was a red-flag paradise.
But, he was American.
That didn't mean he had good intentions.
But he is a soldier-
You think.
You think he is a soldier.
Why would a soldier be all the way out here?
Mercenary maybe?
A theif?
Your eyes narrowed on the thin line of blood tricking through he exposed flesh of his mask, over his eye.
You exhaled, closing your eyes and bunching your hands at your side while you started running back for home.
Throwing a pot of water onto the wood stove to start boiling, scattering out a bag and gripping the handles of the wheelbarrow full of firewood, dumping its contents out onto the soft earth before yanking it back and charging forward on the path to the creek.
Loading the man's body into the wheelbarrow was easier said than done.
You weren't proud to say it, but you did drop him.
More than once.
A few times, actually. Finally opting to throw his upper body in first, lifting his legs with all the energy you could muster and finally tucking his arms in as if you hadn't just dropped him like a sack of shit seven times prior.
Pushing him towards your home.
Simply pushing the wheelbarrow into the open space of your living room, pushing the couch as far back against the wall, and dumping his body out onto the wooden plank flooring near the stove.
Shucking the vest, the gear, unstrapping the gun, and putting it far, far away. The knives kept coming, tucked into random spots, hidden and clipped and strapped under every layer.
The mask was finally removed from his face.
The pants went too.
You'd forgotten his other boot in the water- you'd have to get it later.
It was like finding a stray dog- a dirty, bloody, unconscious dog.
But it was a large, shirtless, stinky man on the floor of your cabin.
You'd leave those thoughts for later.
You tended to his wounds, cleaning the blood from his skin, disinfecting and pulling the gunk from his cuts, carefully stitching the long gash on his thigh back together.
Setting a pillow under his head as his breathing began to even out, the heat of the fire warming his skin and bringing color back to it.
The many scars that rippled across his flesh.
You sat back, exhausted, staring at the rise and fall of his bruised chest. Listening to the sound of his breathing, albeit faint.
But all you could think about wasn't the fear gripping onto your ankles like a vice.
It wasn't silent anymore.
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unadulterated-syd · 1 year
Note
If u can, please make a Glenn fluff?
Like Glenn goes on a run and finds something his s/o likes, so he surprises them with it. The item could be anything btw, thank you!
Ur work grabs my attention and it's very fun to read!
Don't forget to drink water and rest!!
🌷🌷🌷
I would love to! This is such a cute idea <33 Hope this lives up to your expectations!
You're also our first ask anon!! :)
Warnings - Just normal twd ones, all fluff!
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Though most things had seemed bland and blank since the beginning of the end, little things here and again made you feel like existence was somehow worth it. However, nothing could brighten you up the way Glenn could.
Having met shortly after the beginning of the apocalypse, the two of you got along really well. From the very beginning, he was such a silly and hopeful guy, and you appreciated someone who had skill /and/ compassion. It was hard to find both, most of the time.
Though you'd both admired the group as a whole, having become a dysfunctional family by now, you and Glenn were definitely closest to each other. When either of you needed to talk, it was with each other. You felt comfort in knowing Glenn was around, and he found the same.
By the time Alexandria had come around, you'd been sort of relieved. A sense of normalcy was wonderful, even if you weren't sure about the people in town yet. It was nice to have electricity, water, and frankly the ability to worry about more than just survival.
Glenn had been elected as one of the 'runners', and so had you, both of you elated to work together; along with Tara and Sasha whom you trusted with your life. However, you could say much less about the other two men in said group.
When you and Glenn were given a home to yourself, you'd managed to find an old record player up in the attic, ecstatic to find that it was still in working condition. You'd had one when you were younger, and you yearned for nothing more than to find records for the busted old thing.
After a short while in Alexandria, Glenn and you had found yourselves on separate run shifts, which was unfortunate for you both. You saw one another less and less, almost bringing you to wish you'd never found Alexandria.
However tonight was different, you sat quietly at the kitchen table looking through some books and comics you'd found last run, planning on distributing the comics to Carl and Enid, and giving the books to the other kids.
Halfway through a stack of old spider-man comics, you heard the front door swing open, looking up you were met with an excited Glenn, a childish grin on his face, his hands planted loosely behind his back. "Y/n, guess what I found..!"
You couldn't help but smile at his goofiness, turning in your chair to better face him. "What is it, Mr. Rhee?" You grinned, growing more excited the longer he hid whatever /it/ was, from you.
He pulled a record quickly from behind his back in response to your question, a wider grin appearing on his face as he presented it to you. It was a Queen record, seemed in great condition for an apocalypse. Though old, and rundown, it was the best thing he could've brought you from a run.
"Oh my god..!" You stared between him, and the record, in disbelief. He met you at the table standing in front of you, as he set the record in your hands. "Great find, huh?" He asked, a small sort of pleasure in your excitement rushing through him.
You smiled up at him, setting the record on the table cautiously, as if it could shatter at the first sign of contact with the hard wood. After your attention was off the record beside you, you stood and wrapped your arms around the man in front of you, an embrace of gratitude he understood all too well. The same gratitude he found in the way you'd always bring him camera film no matter the occasion.
You had a mutual silent agreement of love and trust, of kindness and compassion. You both did everything in your power to keep the other happy, his happiness was yours, and yours was his.
"Thank you, Glenn. 'Means a lot." You smiled resting your head on his right shoulder, "I used to have Queen records, just like this one, care to listen with me?" Glenn shifted slightly, and kissed your temple. "Always."
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merakiui · 3 months
Note
First thing first, I must apologize for the upcoming ramble in all caps that I'm abt to place in your ask. Now that's out of the way, let's get in to this.
Okay, so I've now finished TMDG and all I can say is:
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HOLY FUCKING SHIT--
THAT WAS SO WORTH THE WAIT OH MY GODD-- You've outdone yourself once again, Mera. YOU REALLY COOKED AND SERVED THIS ONE. MIGHT I SAY, YOU"VE BESTOWED US WITH A MAGNIFICENT FEAST 👏👏👏 😭😭😭✨✨✨
I really am unable to put my thoughts into words; they all just come out incoherent. Like, HOW THE HELL DID YOU EVEN MANAGE TO DRAG ME EVEN DEEPER INTO JADE LEECH HELL??? I AM EXPERIENCING SO MANY EMOTIONS THROUGHOUT READING THIS PIECE THAT I"M NO LONGER ON A ROLLERCOASTER RIDE ー NO, I"VE ASCENDED TO AN EMOTIONAL PLANE I DON'T THINK ANY MAN COULD DESCRIBE OTZ OTZ OTZ
Memes for visualization:
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When you said MC was gonna be obsessive towards Floyd I was not expecting it to be that obsessive (not as hardcore as our Jade here, but i don't think no one could ever compare to our eel here). SHE"S SO DELUSIONAL I"M CACKLING-- and AAAAA SHE REALLY IS PERFECT WITH JADE, they truly are a match made in madness <3 I really love their banter, like they're already married to each other for decades and more (and god they will)
I was so filled with suspicion reading this fic cause the switch between Jade to Floyd really got me, "Is this really really Floyd??". It's nice to see that my suspicion came to fruition in the most agonizing way :))
AND JADE!!! Jadeee 🥺🥺🥺 how can you make one eel so- so-- UGHHHH infuriating?? So devious?? So gentle?? So loving?? So terrifying?? So many things at once that i can't help but put my feelings in a salad spinner??? Every moment that he was just being fluffy really got me swooning, only to get the reminder that he's indeed a cunning slippery eel (which just makes me fall even harder for him). Oohhh when he laid his feelings bare to be seen, when he's just... honest about it. He's just soo so so in love i just want to cry about it ueueueue..
I also like when MC is like: "I can never tell what goes thru Jade's head."
Jade: *Says the most poetic shit abt how he adores her like she's the moon.*
MC: "HE"S LYING!!"
Truly, i think TMDG has become my favorite fic of all time <33 this is such a wonderful way to end my year ✨✨
And so to end my ask, Happy New Years Mera!! Thank you for writing The Most Dangerous Game and all the other wonderful writings that have accompanied me throughout this year <33 Really, your posts are some of things I always look forward to read everyday. Wishin you another wonderful year to come, and hope you take care ✨✨💕💕
AAAAAAA OMG OMG THANK YOU!!!! THANK YOU SO SO SOSOSO MUCH!!!!! ♡(╥﹏╥) I'm very happy knowing it was worth the wait and that it could make you feel so many emotions!!!! It is my job to drag everyone even further into Jade hell!!!! >:D
Reader is so delusional omg!!! She's so silly... I loved writing her interactions with Jade because she really is just so perfect for him. orz delusional x obsessive...... waaaa truly the most crazy match of all time! They're so perfect for each other, but neither realizes it yet. Reader, you're pining for the wrong eel!!!!! I hoped to convey just how naturally Jade and Reader click, whereas with Floyd there's some sort of awkward strain. >_< Jade and Reader are so married!!!!!!! <3 Azul can be the priest and Floyd can be best eel at their wedding because Jade couldn't have done it if it weren't for Floyd (and Reader's obsessive attachment to him).
Jade is so many things in this fic,,, a conniving eel at heart. >:( but I love him when he's like that. I'm so happy he had you swooning!!! For all of his sleazy ways, he's extremely sweet when he's so gentle and honest about his feelings. AAAAA HE'S SO HEAD OVER HEELS/FINS FOR YOU!!!!!!! (∩˃o˂∩) and I'm glad you liked those parts of Reader being unable to believe a thing Jade says. T_T he is opening his chest for her to explain the truths locked away in his heart, and she's still questioning it......
Thank you so very much for reading TMDG and for writing such a kind message!!! I love those reaction images as well LOL. They illustrate how I felt while writing this story hehe!! <3 I am wishing you the happiest of new year!!!!!!! Thank you for accompanying me through 2023! :D sending you lots of love and wonderful things for your 2024!!!!!!!! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.゚
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r0-boat · 11 months
Note
Can I please request sfw slice of life headcannons for reader and Volo? (Ps. I hope you had a great Easter!)
Thank you so much and I hope you have a good *looks at calendar* April 27th
Volo x gn!reader slice of life hcs
Sfw cut for length
Cw: slight Angst with a happy ending.
Scars heal, although some take longer than others... after years, you finally begin to accept that you may not be able to go home ... however, slowly but surely, you begin to cultivate your new life in the strange lands of Hisui. Still hurt knowing that you could never go back home, but you knew there was your second home.
The village was remorseful of how they treated you, offering to all help and build you an actual home. You now live in a small humble Cottage a little ways outside the village you could still get there easily on your Pokémon's back. While the boarding that Cyllene gave you was nice you wanted something else...
Sometimes you wonder how he is doing. After he disappeared, he left your heart better and broken. Making you question if the time he spent with you was real... if all the things he did to you and said to you were honest and not just to lull you into a false sense of security... you knew the village would never accept him back, but you also knew how painful he was. You saw in his eyes when he threw out his Pokeball; underneath that mad smile was a scared, confused man, who had no one in his life other than a dream. Volo claimed he hated you, but was it true?
As your Pokemon snooze is away while you brush its fur you hear a knock at the door... you weren't really expecting anyone today you opened your door expecting to greet Lavington, Cyllene... your eyes widen seeing a blonde-haired man standing in your doorway. His standing failed looked like the days alone in the wilderness had not been treating him well recently, and his face filled with regrets and sadness. "V-olo?" His name Falls from your lips.
After years of searching for Arceus, he knew he finally had everything.... his life dedicated to one God sacrificing everything he had and everything he built. To him, it was worth it... until he found you, he first saw you as your stepping stone, a simple obstacle in the way of his true dreams... But after he spends more time with you, something that he has never felt before begins to stir inside of him... it scared him... he tried to push it back as much as he could, thinking that nothing would matter once he finally reached his goal.
After Spear Pillar, he couldn't look you in the eyes anymore, he fled...
He has been better in recent days, choosing to live with you instead of chasing a dream till it drives him to Madness. You made him realize that he deserved a normal life that he earned his own path.
He reassures you that the feelings he has for you is genuine that he was an idiot for leaving you on Spear Pillar, Volo expected you to hate him... But you didnt?
The two of you now live in the cottage together every morning when the weather was nice volo goes outside in the garden and either relax or studies some old historical texts (still a history nerd)—occasionally going out on his own Adventures to look for more ancient ruins. Your Pokemon who once stood as great enemies now frolic and play as friends.
Volo's heart melts when he wakes up to the smell of your cooking no, he does not miss being a gingo guild member and finding what he can eat. He claims your homemade potato mochi is far better than the ones they serve in the village.
Volo does claim that he never once cared for that Village since how they treated him and you, but Volo did regret his actions and what he did even if the village would never accept him even if the gamegoeso Guild would never accept him, he still wanted to grow as a person and have everyone remember him as what he is now.
Volo has learned how to cook when he was just a traveling Merchant. He would only eat the wild berries he would find and had no time to cook..., but with you on his mind, he wants to make you smile with something he pours as hard into.
Sometimes you still have nightmares of The Village casting you out alone and cold as Giratina staring down at you. you wake up in a cold sweat, ready to cry, only to be held by Volo. I am making you remember that you are safe now and you are not alone.
Volo also still has nightmares of Giratina swallowing him down to this Distortion world where he belongs or Arceus standing before him to judge him on his sins of Pride and envy, greed, gluttony, and Wrath... but he feels at ease when he holds you close
Volo once asked you what was life like in your old time... you told him everything he seemed a little lost on the topics of technology and buildings however he seemed more intrigued when you told him about the many different kinds of Pokemon and places that you've seen... there is a bigger world out there.
Maybe one day the two of you should leave Hisui and travel the world just like in your stories...
No more worries no more expectation just you and him and the wild Untamed Wilderness and the Pokemon within them.
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namorswifeyyy · 8 months
Text
QUICK A/N: This chapter is meant to be short so I promise I didn't try to rush this. Part 2 will definitely be longer
He's suddenly been on my mind so don't ask 🫣 I don't see that many fics about him anyway so
WORTH THE RISK
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Blue Jones x Reader
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Summary: You been in a secret relationship with Blue and every moment spent with each other is precious time. This time, you come to him with one little problem..
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Tags/Warnings: Established secret relationship, mild angst, some NSFW but no sex is involved, just Blue being a naughty naughty man | 18+ EXPLICIT
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You been watching him perform on stage. His charismatic energy, his talent, and just how captivating Mr. Blue Jones is. For a while now, you two have had quite the connection. But no one can know. Why? Think about it, the risk of losing your career. The risk of your friends knowing. Who knows what could happen?
There's also so much mystery to this man. You often wonder what goes on in his head. Wondering what his intentions may be. If this relationship is even worth the risk.
But no matter what, Blue is all you think about. And you don't even know why. What is it about him that is so important to you? Who even knows? You feel as if this isn't gonna last forever.
But no matter, you have more important things to worry about. Overthinking isn't one of them.
Looking at your mirror reflection, hearing the muffled music blaring outside the dressing room. Sighing deeply, you check everything to see if you're ready to go out there. Then you hear a knock. "May I come in?" A voice says from the other side of the door, a familiar one at that.
Could it be Blue? "Yeah, sure!" You respond, loudly enough. The door opens and you see Blue walk in. You knew it. "Hey. I just wanted to come in and check on you. Everything okay, darlin'?" He asks, coming over towards you. You nod yes in response.
Looking down at the floor, then looking back at your reflection. The truth is, you weren't really feeling your best. But you don't want to let him know that.
"You sure, love? I can tell by the look on your face that something's wrong. You know you can tell me anything." Blue said. He puts his hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing it. Looking at the mirror reflection with you, admiring how beautiful he knows you are. But also, being worried about how you're feeling.
"I promise Blue, I'm fine. I was just lost in thought." You respond, voice sounding subtly shaky. Did that come off as not sounding fine?
Blue sighs. "There's no need to hide from me. Please, tell me what's wrong."
You push his hand off your shoulder and walk away from the mirror. "I'm worried about us. Should we even be doing this? Why do we have to keep hiding? I don't know if this little secret of ours is gonna stay as a secret. I don't even know if you even actually love me." Tears well up in your eyes. You turn around to face him.
"I'm just worried, Blue. I'm sorry." Your voice starts to break, stifling your crying. Now he knows.
"Now what makes you think that? You don't think that I love you?" He walks over to you and caresses your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb. "You mean everything to me. I'm sorry if I haven't been there enough for you. I always want to make time for you. I love you. Very much, darling."
"You promise you don't have any bad intentions with me?" You ask.
"Only nothing but good. I wouldn't even dare try to hurt you. But I have to ask, do you trust me?" Blue asks in return.
You take a breath, calming down your crying. His dark brown eyes, looking at yours reassuringly. You want to trust Blue, you really do. You don't want to let your guard down but at the same time, he done nothing to break your trust. At least not that you're aware of.
If he has trust in you, then it would only be fair if you return that trust in him. "Yes, Blue. I trust you. I promise to keep my trust in you as you keep your trust in me."
A tender smile forms on Blue's face. "That's my girl." He praises. He plants a short and sweet kiss on your lips. You can't help but feel so in love with him. You don't know how he does it but he got such an effect on you.
"I'm hoping one day we don't have to keep this all a secret." You say after he pulls away.
"I hope so too. But I don't mind it. Because that means I can have you all to myself." He puts his arms around your waist and pulls you in closer to him.
"No need to cry, okay? I'm here." Blue whispers. You nod your head yes, glancing down then back into his eyes. His presence, his touch, and words felt reassuring.
You sniffle, wiping away the last few tears from your eyes. You take a deep breath, calming down. Something about Blue just keeps you grounded. Is it his reassuring words? His love and devotion to you? Regardless of what it may be, he is making you feel at peace.
But then, you start to notice more things about Blue. His looks was one of the many things that made you fall for him. Aside from his suave nature, his talent, his charisma, and many other things. You admire how handsome he is.
Not like you haven't before, you always have. But this time, it's more than ever.
Looking into his eyes, noticing the seductive look he often has in them. Without even trying. Without even doing anything.
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, having some naughty thoughts about him. How are you willing to communicate that? You thought "I'll show him how much I want him right now."
You then start to look at his lips. Suddenly craving him. Without even saying anything, you go in for a kiss, this time more longer and more passionate. You feel Blue's hands roaming across your body. Tongues touching each other. Having him gently tug your bottom lip with his teeth.
"You're mine. And only mine, you hear?" Blue says in between kisses.
"I want you, Blue. Take me." You tell him, barely catching your breath. "I need you, so bad."
He takes notice of how needy you became for him. Seeing you in such a state. He couldn't help but be so turned on. "Take off your top." Blue commands.
You follow his order and you take it off. You toss your top to the side, to be surprised by the feeling of his lips on your neck. Kisses turning into soft bites. Moving closer down to your collar bone down to your breasts.
Sucking onto your skin, making you whimper at his touch. But you want more. You want him to ruin you.
You feel Blue's fingers intertwine with the back clip of your bra, seemingly trying to take it off. Then you hear it unclip. He pulls the straps down and drops your bra to the floor. Your bare chest, now exposed to him.
Blue gently squeezes your soft breasts, leaving hickeys on your neck. You let out a moan as he just completely ravishes you. Fingers in between your hard nipples. Making you whimper more and more underneath him.
"Fuck...Blue. Keep going." You want more. You can't help but become such a needy mess for him. You become his naughty girl, and only his.
You take notice of hard bulge in his pants. Feeling it so close to you. How bad you want it inside your wet, aching pussy. How badly he just turns you on.
Blue even noticed how wet you're becoming. He puts his hand under your skirt, touching the wet spot on your panties. Rubbing your clit through the fabric with his thumb. You gasp at the sudden touch down there.
Slow, circular motions against your throbbing clit. Your body is just begging to feel him inside you. "Already so wet, aren't you?" Blue asks, making eye contact with you. You're trying so hard not to squirm. He's just so good with his hands.
Then you both hear a knock on the door. "Shit!! I gotta go! Get dressed, now." Blue pulls away from you, picking back up your bra and your top from the floor.
You hurriedly get clothed, watching Blue exit the room. Wondering who knocked. Hopefully soon you and him can continue where you left off.
To be continued...
Replies and reblogs are very much appreciated!! Part 2 will be coming soon
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vbecker10 · 2 years
Note
Hi love
I’ve got a request:
Loki x y/n (gender doesn’t matter)
Loki tries online dating and meets someone (age 18+) and they start chatting away. At first it’s more just like something silly and both don’t think much about it. But then Loki decides he wants to meet them. Only problem: They don’t live in NYC. In fact, they don’t even live in the States. I’m more thinking about something like Iceland, Norway, Finland. When Loki visits it’s in Winter (due to him being Jotun) and they fall in love. He even shows her his real form. Lots and lots of fluff. Maybe a bit angst when it comes to the meeting. Smut, if you like. Ending: Not fussed. Something that fits your story. Thank you 🖤
@juulle987 thank you so much for the request!! Sorry this took so long 💚💚 (I know I kept promising I was almost done but it got away from me... and it just kept getting longer, so I made it two parts) I really hope you like it! 🤞🤞
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I'm Here (Part 1 of 2)
Part 2 here
Pairing: Loki x gender neutral reader
Warnings: self doubt, angst, kinda fluff... it's coming in the next part (so is Jotun Loki)
POV: Y/N pov & Loki pov
Summary: After a string of terrible blind dates, Loki is pushed into trying online dating and despite his doubts, he meets you. The two of you become fast friends and soon you find yourself falling for him completely. After a few months, Loki begins to ask if he can visit you but every time he does, you come up with an excuse to keep him away. Eventually, Loki decides it's worth the risk and goes to Norway to see you, but will you be excited to see him?
Word Count: 3k words
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(LOKI POV)
"Come on brother, you can't give up just because of a few bad dates," Thor says.
"A few... you and your idiot friends have set me up on a blind date almost every Saturday for the last three months and each one has been worse then the one before," you tell him as you turn on the stove then fill the kettle with water.
"They weren't all bad," Rogers counters and you groan in response.
"Yea, what about the one who worked at the bookstore?" Barnes suggests.
"You mean the one who texted the entire time we were at dinner and then took home my leftovers?" you ask.
"Right... that was weird. Well there was the one you went to the play with?" Barnes tries again.
"They left during the intermission," you remind him.
"That's an honest mistake... I think," Rogers says hopefully but Thor shrugs.
You shake your head and take a mug out of the cabinet. "I'm done," you tell them flatly, not wanting to talk about it any further. You keep your back to the three of them until you finish making your tea and then you head back to your room.
"How was your date?" a cheerful voice calls from behind you and you turn. You shrug at Peter and continue on your way down the hall. He catches up to you and you sigh, he's not as easy to brush off as Thor and some of the others. "What happened?" he asks, sounding almost more let down then you feel.
You reach your door and pause, knowing the boy will follow you inside whether you invite him to or not. You open the door and he quickly takes a seat on your couch, still waiting for you to answer his question. You take a seat opposite him on your arm chair and set your tea down, rubbing your eyes.
"It was that bad?" he asks.
You nod, "Honestly, I don't feel like talking about it right now, Peter. I've told them to stop setting me up with people." You avoid eye contact with him while staring into your mug. For Thor and his friends, you acted as if this was just a game, something to keep you occupied when you had a free night but something about Peter made you tell him the truth. You didn't enjoy being alone as much as you claimed to and he had since become invested in the idea of you finding your perfect match. "I just can't keep doing this," you tell him, hoping you aren't disappointing him as much as you are disappointing yourself.
"Aww, really? I thought for sure this time would be a good one," he says, he sits back against the couch and looks mildly annoyed.
"I'll admit, it would have been nice to find someone but... I feel more alone now than I did before this all started," you tell him, feeling defeated. "Its my fault, I never should have gotten my hopes up," you say. Maybe you were meant to be alone, it had been that way for so long you should just accept it, you thought to yourself.
After a moment or two of silence Peter leans forward and you are confused to see him appear so excited. "I think I have an idea..." he tells you with a wide smile.
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(LOKI POV - a few days later)
You walk into your room and close the door with a loud thud then throw yourself onto your couch. To say the mission didn't go as planned was an understatement, you just wanted to shower, eat and sleep but you couldn't decide what order was more important. As you sit on the couch with your hand over your face, your phone begins to vibrate on the coffee table. You barely used the device, Thor would call once in a while and Peter tried to text you but you disliked using it, you almost never remembered to take it with you anywhere. You look at it curiously and then remember the app Peter installed for you right before you left. You sigh when you open it and see you have over 30 new messages. Too tired to read them all, you start with the oldest and scroll up through your inbox, skimming the first line or two from each.
One of the more recent messages catches your attention but you think twice about opening it. Peter had told you to avoid profiles that didn't have pictures but there was something about this one that seemed different than the others. You open the chat and sit back against the couch to read it.
"Hi Loki, we've never talked on here before so this might seem weird or random but I just wanted to see if you were ok. I was watching the news earlier and they said you had gotten hurt during the hostage situation in Paris. It looked like it was really a rough mission, not that any of them are easy I'm sure. I know we don't know each other and I'm sure you have tons of messages from people who are way more interesting then me but if you ever want to talk, I'm here. I'm sure when you get back you'll be really tired, so I hope you sleep well (and maybe get to rest tomorrow). - Y/N"
You find yourself smiling at the message, and then going to Y/N's profile to read about them. Once you finish, you go back into your inbox and delete all the messages except that one.
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(Y/N POV)
You hit send on the message and toss your phone as far away from you as possible on the bed. You honestly can't believe you did that, you just sent an Avenger... no a freaking prince... no an actual god a message on a dating app, why did you even bother? You groan and bury your face in your pillow, already deciding that he would never message you back. Why would he when he had so many better options, you think as you roll over and turn off your light.
Eventually you fall asleep and your woken by a loud chime, it takes you a minute to realize its your phone. You grab it, roll onto your back and hold it over your face, eyes half open you click on the app. You nearly drop the phone on your face when you see you have a notification that Loki replied to you. You sit up, suddenly fully awake and open the chat.
"Hello Y/N, I'm feeling much better than I did a few hours ago, thank you for asking. I heal fairly quickly so I will be fine by morning. You're right, I am exhausted but honestly, I feel a bit better after seeing your message. You're the only person who has ever checked on me after a mission, to see if I was ok and I really appreciate it. I'm sorry we won't be able to talk more tonight but hopefully we can tomorrow. I should eat something quick before I try to sleep. Thank you again for worrying about me. - Loki"
You read the message three more times to make sure it said what you think it said. Your message made him feel better? And he wants to talk to you? That actually happened, you think as a smile spreads across your lips. You are in such shock, you almost forget to write back to him. You debate telling him you are glad you made him feel better but instead you simply say him you are happy he's ok and then you wish him a goodnight. You sigh, putting your phone on the bed next to you. Well, it was fun for five seconds but he was probably just being polite, you think as you close your eyes again, you don't have too much longer until your alarm goes off. Your mind immediately starts to come up with a very long list of reasons why he won't respond again but it is interrupted by your phone altering you to a new message. You open the app quickly and smile wide again when you read his reply.
"Goodnight Y/N, I look forward to talking to you tomorrow."
The next day you argue with yourself about whether to message him, even typing out several different things then deleting them quickly. You sigh out loud and read his profile again. When you saw him pop up on here, you could barely believe it, why would someone like him need an app to meet people. You shake your head and try to push any thoughts of Loki from your mind as you settle into the couch.
A few minutes later your phone chimes and you open the app, assuming it's another useless notification but it's not. You instantly smile when you see there's a new message in your chat with Loki.
"Good morning Y/N, or afternoon possibly, your profile didn't say where you lived so I'm unsure the time at the moment. I have quite a few meetings today unfortunately but I would love to talk to you for a bit now if you are available."
"Hi Loki, it's afternoon here. I hope you slept well. I have weekends off so I'm here all day, just doing nothing." you reply. Oh good, tell him you have no life, you think to yourself, very smooth.
There is a long pause and you find yourself staring at the three floating dots as they blink on and off. You can't be sure if whoever created those was actually evil or not. The dots stop for a while and you feel let down but then a message comes through almost ten minutes later.
"Sorry, I'm not very good at typing and all this I'm afraid, it's still fairly new to me. I needed someone to help me turn off the sound of the keypad beeping when I type. And good afternoon it is then, Y/N. I slept very well actually thank you, I hope you did too. I feel like it's been ages since I've had a day off to do nothing. Most of the team thinks its better I'm kept occupied, I've been known to take my boredom out on them."
"Well I can do my best to keep you occupied, I wouldn't want you getting yourself in trouble," you smile as you text back.
"I appreciate the offer, I've been told I can be quite a handful at times so you'll have to distract me fairly often," he messages.
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(Y/N POV - 3 months later)
"Hi Loki, are you still awake?" you text him as soon as you wake up, just like you have every morning since the two of you started talking.
A few minutes later your phone chimes and you smile. "Good morning love, I'm here," he replies.
You feel yourself blush at the pet name just as much as you did the first time he called you that. "What are you doing?" you ask him.
"Missing you like always," he responds quickly.
You text back and forth for the next two hours and then you look at the clock. "You should get some sleep Loki, I know it's almost 2am in New York," you tell him. You don't want to stop talking to him but you are worried enough about him when he goes on missions, you didn't want him to be too sleep deprived if he was called away.
He replies, "I have no doubt I would sleep better if you were in my arms, Y/N."
You smile at the thought and say, "I wish I could feel your arms around me, that sounds perfect." You often find yourself imagining what it would be like to rest your head on his chest while he holds you tight as you fell sleep at night.
"Y/N, I would never let you go," he says and then you see him typing again. "You mean so much to me Y/N and I love talking to you, its always the best part of my day."
You smile so wide it almost hurts, "I love talking to you too, Loki and I care about you deeply."
There is a short pause and then you read, "There is something I want to talk to you about. Y/N, I want to see you, I want to be with you. I would love to visit you."
As soon as you read the message your anxiety starts to rise. All you want to do is say yes as quickly as possibly but your mind starts to race. You begin to worry that he won't feel the same way about you when he sees you in person. You have no reason to believe that's true but you can't seem to stop the negative thoughts from pushing their way through. You suddenly feel yourself making up an excuse about being busy with work for the next few weeks without even meaning to.
"Its ok love. I will talk to you in a few hours, you were right about it getting late," he replies.
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(LOKI POV - 6 months later)
Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you smile to yourself when you see who the message is from.
"Reindeer Games, are we interrupting you?" Stark asks and you sigh, putting your phone away before you can respond. As soon as Stark is finished, you get up to leave with everyone else. Taking out your phone, you type a message back to Y/N when you step out into the hallway.
"I didn't even know he had a phone," Barton jokes as he leaves the conference room with Natasha. "Lately he's on that damn thing all the time."
She shrugs in response and Thor laughs, saying, "He must be talking to Y/N."
You keep walking, acting as if you don't hear them. You had been away for a few days on a mission and you were excited to talk to Y/N again. You always missed them a great deal when you were away and you loved how they always let you know they missed you.
"Who's Y/N?" Natasha asks as they follow you down the hall to the elevator.
"I would tell you but that's literally all I've been able to get out of him," Thor says and you laugh a bit at how much it annoys him.
Just as you are about the turn the corner at the end of the hall you see Peter and Barnes coming towards you. Barnes nods at everyone then disappears into one of the conference rooms. Peter waves and joins all of you by the elevator.
You say hello to him and open your phone again to respond to Y/N's question. "Oh, tell Y/N I said 'hi', and they were right about that movie. It was really good," Peter says and you nod but then you look up slowly.
"Wait, Parker knows Y/N?" Thor asks and you cringe as the elevator arrives.
Natasha and Barton laugh as Thor grabs your arm and pulls you into the elevator, followed by Peter who mouths 'sorry'. You roll your eyes and put your phone back in your pocket. Since Peter had signed you up for online dating, he had been the only one you talked to about Y/N.
"So..." Thor says, "Are you going to tell us about them?" You shrug and he sighs loudly. "Come on brother, it's been what, three or four months-" he starts.
"Six," you can't help but correct him. "Y/N is a friend, we talk," you explain in the briefest way possible although you aren't sure 'friend' is the right word. You desperately wanted to be more then Y/N's friend and most of the time you think they feel the same. If you were being perfectly honest, you wanted Y/N to be yours and you wanted to be their's entirely.
"Mmhmm... and what does this 'friend' look like?" Natasha asks, raising an eyebrow.
"He doesn't know," Peter answers without thinking and you give him a silencing look, he quickly puts his hand over his mouth.
"What?" Natasha, Barton and Thor ask at the same time. Peter presses his back against the wall of the elevator as if it will help him dissappear while the others look at you questioningly. Y/N's online profile didn't have any pictures when you first started talking and although Peter thought that was odd it never bothered you. What did bother you sometimes was that they never wanted to talk on the phone or video chat (after Peter explained to you what that was). Of course you were curious to know what they looked like and sounded like but mostly you just thought it would easier to talk to them without having to constantly type.
Thankfully the elevator reaches your floor and you step out, making your way to your room quickly. You are almost to your door when you realize Peter is right behind you. You turn and he gives you an apologetic look, you tell him it's fine and he follows you into your room. He makes himself at home like always, hanging his backpack on a hook by the door and taking a seat on your couch.
"So..." he asks excitedly. "How did it go?"
You pace slowly in front of the couch with your phone in your hand then sit heavily on your armchair. "They said no... again" you tell him, tossing the phone lightly on the couch.
"Again?" Peter says almost in shock but you aren't surprised, you're hurt.
You had been asking Y/N if you could visit roughly once a month and every time they had an excuse as to why you couldn't. It was painful to know they were lying to you and you were confused because they were truthful about everything else. They sounded so sincere when they told you they cared for you and missed you and wanted to be with you but the second you mention visiting, they became closed off. You stared at your hands, thinking when you hear Peter say something.
"What?" you ask him to repeat himself as you look up.
"I said, you should just go there," he says, he waves his hand in the vaguely general direction of Norway.
You sit up straighter and look at him. "I could do that," you say to yourself.
"Oh, wait no... I didn't actually mean that," Peter says, his eyes wide as you stand up.
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mysteryshoptls · 9 months
Text
SR Malleus Draconia Lab Coat Personal Story: Part 2
"Allow me to reward you"
(Part 1) Part 2
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[Courtyard]
Deuce: So, Draconia-senpai. You called me out where no one might see us… What is it you want?
Malleus: …
Deuce: I don't know what I did to offend you, but… I ain't gonna run away just 'cause you're older than me!
Deuce: I'll take on this fight, no prob! Let's let our fists do the talking, 'til only one of us is left standing!
Deuce: Come on!! Let's go already!!
Malleus: Spade. Look at this.
Deuce: Hell yeah, if you need me to look at somethin', I'll look at it, sure, come at me!
Deuce: …Wait, huh? Look? …At what?
Malleus: Why are you standing there like that? Hurry and put out your hand.
Deuce: Ah, yes, sir…
Malleus: …This thing that I've handed you is something very precious to me. However, it was sprayed in water, and it no longer functions.
Malleus: I would like you to repair it.
Deuce: What, you weren't calling me out for a fight…? Wait, repair it!? Me!?
Deuce: Wh-Why me?
Malleus: Diamond told me that you know a thing or two about these sorts of devices.
Deuce: But, it's not like I can fix anything too complicated like that…
Malleus: I am telling you that I am relying on you to fix it. Or, are you saying you will not do it?
Deuce: …
Deuce: …I mean, I don't know if I can fix it without trying, I guess. But…
Deuce: But I'm being asked to try by a Dorm Leader from another dorm.
Deuce: If I refuse here, then that'll tarnish the Heartslabyul name. I will try my best.
Malleus: Good response. Thank you.
Deuce: …Besides, it'd probably be better to make you happy versus incur your wrath, so.
Malleus: Fufu, I do not care what your reasoning is, as long as you fix it. …So, what do we do first?
Deuce: You said it got water on it, right? If so, then the first thing we need to do is dry it out.
Deuce: I wonder… What's going on inside this thing?
Deuce: I want to open up the lid, but I don't have a screw driver. Guess I'll have to try using something else.
Malleus: How dexterous… You opened that small lid quite quickly.
Deuce: I just used a box cutter to unscrew it, it's not really anything worth being impressed over.
Malleus: Is that so? I am not familiar with this kind of detailed work. It would be simple for me if it were something magical, however.
Deuce: Ah, then, could I ask you to use wind or fire magic? If you did, it'd dry faster.
Malleus: A simple request.
[Malleus casts fire and wind magic]
Deuce: Wha― Both wind and fire magic at the same time!? I can't believe you can whip out two different types of magic at once like that…
Deuce: And wait, it doesn't have to be as strong as a tornado or anything! I feel like I'm gonna be blown away too…!
Malleus: I didn't think I put too much power into it…
Deuce: Weaker! Please try to make it a gentle breeze! Slowly, gently!
Malleus: Slowly, hm. …How is this?
Deuce: Yes, this is better… Whew, that scared me. How much am I gonna have to practice to be able to use magic like you do?
Malleus: Practice…? That is a difficult question. My life has always revolved around magic.
Malleus: In my hometown of Briar Valley, it is rare to come across devices that are purely mechanical. Most are magical devices.
Deuce: You're not saying that you were born being able to do this level of magic, were you…?
Malleus: I wonder. My childhood was quite a time ago, so I do not remember well.
Malleus: However, magic relies on familiarity. Regardless of your actual magical power, the more you use it, the better you will be at handling it. There is no question about that.
Deuce: Yes, sir. …I'll make sure to do my best, too.
Deuce: …Ah, I think it's pretty dry now? Please stop your magic.
Malleus: How does it look, will you be able to repair it?
Deuce: As far as I can see, it doesn't look like there's no other issues with it. I'll close the lid and we can see how it goes.
Deuce: Here you go. …How is it?
Malleus: …
Malleus: It works!
Deuce: Great! I'm glad it's fixed!
Malleus: You did well, Spade. Thank you.
Deuce: I mean, it's not like any of the parts were broken, so it was pretty easy…
Malleus: No need to be modest. Right, allow me to reward you.
Deuce: Reward…? Eh, wait, is this one of those rare ores they say can only be found in Briar Valley…!?
Malleus: Is it not enough? Then, I shall provide more…
Deuce: No, sir! If anything, it'll be hard to deal with just this…
Malleus: You fixed something quite precious to me. This reward is the least I could do.
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Malleus: Ah, I must feed it now.
Malleus: Goodbye, Spade. Thank you for today.
Deuce: Y-Yes, sir. Thanks for trusting me.
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[Malleus disappears]
Deuce: …And he's gone! Man, he's really a strange guy.
Deuce: …"Feed it," huh. Yeah, it was beeping non-stop after turning it back on, I guess.
Deuce: But I didn't think that that Malleus Draconia's "precious thing" would be…
Deuce: Feed it, raise it! What kind of pet will it grow into? Gao Gao Drago-kun!
Deuce: ...Wasn't that the small pocket pet game that was super popular when I was a little kid?
Deuce: That takes me back… Pretty sure I had one on my keychain that I'd walk around and raise, too.
Deuce: For him to care that much for a kid's toy like that… Draconia-senpai's really a puzzle.
(Part 1) Part 2
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perpetualexistence · 1 month
Text
Sea Monster AU: Poor Unfortunate Soul (1/2)
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'What's with the 1/2 in the title, that's new' you might be asking yourself. You see, this part right here was actually originally supposed to be just one Then, I realized I'd need to split it into two, 'Poor Unfortunate Soul', and the next part I'm not spoiling the title of yet.
Then I started going into this, looked at the time, looked at the word count, and realized it's for the best if I just split this up once more. Future Perp might end up renaming this chapter as the title definitely fits more for the second part than it does this one. Time will tell.
Either way, before we get to the post proper: Warnings! Oh boy have we got them for this part and the next!
Content warnings: Non-suicidal self harm, Body horror
Since the content warnings happen as part of a scene like rather than a brief mention, I've separated the more gruesome bits with asterisks. You can look all the way down at the bottom for a safer summary.
<- Prev | First | Next ->
Now that Noah has a book on magic, he has to deal with the problem that Chris could never get past: actually reading it. It's not in any language that Noah can recognize. Still, he's smart and can recognize patterns in text thanks to his poetry phase. He manages to work out the basic alphabet. Now that he's got that, his next step is simple. Create a program that will translate the text as he scans it. He'll get to save so much time, and might even be able to get what he wants faster as he can just search for whatever seems most promising.
The book snaps shut the first time. Noah can't excuse it as the wind when it happens again. After a few attempts, he finally manages to get a good scan of one of the pages.
One waterlogged phone later he realizes why there weren't any references for how to actually use magic on the sea monster database.
Magic really doesn't like cheaters.
So instead he has to translate everything himself using the alphabet he figured out. It gets easier as he keeps doing it, and eventually he no longer needs to look at his reference sheet in order to read it.
Before that can happen, he needs a new phone. Both because he's a young adult addicted to having a screen with him at all times, and because without one he won't be able to talk to Owen, who is currently one of the few things reminding him that there's some good in humanity, and that all of this pain is going to be worth it.
He doesn't have any disposable income. Yes, he has some of the treasures that Alejandro gave him from the ships they hunted. But the problem is actually selling those. Now that people are noticing the disappearances (thanks Alejandro), he can't exactly sell anything identifiable from those very ships that have 'gone missing'. His lazy ass had just sat on them assuming that he could sell them whenever he pleased.
Present Noah would slap Past Noah if he could.
So he goes to his mother to ask for a new phone. Which is a task in itself given her multiple jobs. He'd text her, but that's part of the problem. He'd also prefer not to get his older siblings involved because they'd just ask questions. The one good thing about having an overworked mother is that she rarely questions why you want things, and as the baby you can exploit this to its maximum potential!
Noah's a terrible son.
He'll make it up to her when he actually does manage to sell off his stolen goods. Like a criminal. Which he is. As an accessory to murder. Multiple counts.
He can either think about this too hard or he can have a new phone.
So he manages to track her down and asks her for a new phone. He doesn't ask for anything fancy, just something that works. She looked at him, gave him an all too familiar rueful smile, and told him they don't have the money right now, though he can try using one of his siblings' older phones.
Noah's not too surprised by this answer. Living as they are, it's always a gamble for when they do have spare cash. What does concern him is the look in her eyes of someone who doesn't want to burden others. Not just the burden of saying no.
The burden of hiding something. And there's only one things he's ever tried to hide from him. The loan shark's back.
He does this every once in a while. Usually when they're getting too close to fully paying him off. He'll hike up the interest rate or make up some bullshit fee. He'll expect a big immediate payment, and then lay off for a while until he's ready to wring them by the neck again.
He'd have pushed the bastard directly into Alejandro's mouth himself if he wasn't so good at covering where he was. The fact that he's in town means he's going to stay a while. There's no telling when he'll move out, or if he'll even do it by boat.
That's a problem for another time, as much as he loathes to leave it hanging. He's got to get more money from somewhere else. Not just for the phone now, but to get the loan shark off his family's back again.
Noah remembers Duncan. The guy made his reputation as a delinquent known just from the five seconds he got to know him, and spoke about going to juvie. It'd be a risk, but Noah's running low on options. He's not about to watch his mom work herself ragged again.
He gets in touch with him Duncan via Owen. After assuring Owen that no, he's not dead because it's been two full days since he texted, no he's not mad at him either, he just dropped his phone in some water. Luckily for him, Owen's willing to help the two meet without asking too many questions.
Duncan, meanwhile, has plenty of questions. First of all, who Noah thinks he is just asking for Duncan to fence stolen goods for him. Second of all where someone like Noah would even GET stolen goods. Noah lets him know that he can either have answers to those questions, or he can get a profitable cut. Duncan begrudgingly agrees (which has nothing to do with the fact that Noah accidentally lets slip why he needs the money, and Duncan's still got a bleeding heart).
Noah starts with just enough money for a new phone. He can't just dump everything onto Duncan, because then his curiosity/suspicion would definitely outweigh his willingness to help Noah.
Now that all of that is settled, he can finally get back to translating and studying magic.
He learns that in order to use magic, he needs proper tools to do so. And he can't simply buy these tools. No, for the magic to work properly, Noah needs to make these tools. The making imbues them with his essence and makes it so the tools will only ever work for him. Since he's working with sea magic, he's got to use it from materials he finds underwater.
The only place underwater he can safely look without Alejandro catching on is an underground cove he found connected to Chef and Chris's place. Which limits his options severely. So he decides to keep on reading for the actual spells to see what he'd actually need before figuring out how much of a migraine he's going to have.
One thing he notices rather quickly is that all of these spells must be prepared and performed underwater. This part wouldn't be a problem if not for the fact that unlike merfolk, Noah does need oxygen. So solving that problem takes priority.
He finds that solution in a ritual that will give him gills. However, it presents him with a choice. For there's two different branches of magic: the slower, safer process and the faster, more painful process. In this case, Noah can either take the time and effort needed to gather ingredients for a potion that will give him gills that he can open and close at will...or he can make himself a permanent set of gills.
Noah would love to pick the first one. But the longer he takes, the more Alejandro will eat, and the longer he stays a threat. So the second option it is. He starts wearing a scarf and uses the perpetually cold lie. Mostly for Alejandro's sake. Which is good because Alejandro does 'playfully' remove the scarf to see what's underneath the first time he sees it, and once satisfied that there's nothing, doesn't mess with it like that again.
Now Noah needs a knife of coral. Noah's lucky that the new cove he's in has agatized coral. With it being fossilized, it's old and has more of a connection with nature, making it a perfect magic implement. Noah's able to get pieces out, but now he has to make a knife out of it.
Who better to ask but the resident knife expert?
Noah does need a more reasonable excuse for this one, so he pretends that he only needs to learn how to make a knife due to self defense because he's getting paranoid with all the disappearances. Duncan points out that that's bullshit because Noah could just buy a knife then. Why the hell does he need to learn how to make one?
Duncan's asking too many questions, so Noah throws his hail mary. If Duncan can stop asking questions about pretty much any of Noah reasons and helps him out with learning how to make a knife and maybe a few other things, he'll use his hacking abilities to get rid of Duncan's criminal record. That's an offer Duncan simply can't refuse. So Duncan agrees to teach him, and over time, Noah crafts his knife of coral. He adds the runes that he needs to enchant it by himself. Both because that's meant to be a private affair, and so Duncan doesn't say anything despite his bought silence.
Now to actually do this.
***
Noah gets all the underwater runes and preparations done one dive at a time. He also makes sure to get makeshift medical supplies for himself. He's doing this as close to the surface as he can in case everything goes to shit. He'd prefer not to bleed out.
He stares at the knife in his hands. He's actually going through with this, isn't he? No going back. There will be permanent evidence that he's taking a stand against Alejandro if he finds it. The whole 'sea monster vs. sea witch' conflict he'd read about doesn't promise anything good when Alejandro realizes he's using magic.
He could seriously screw himself up. He's a genius, but he's no medical expert. One wrong cut and it's lights out forever. One wrong move and he's fish food either way. He's come so far, he can't afford to let himself get choked up now.
He slices the right side of his neck before he can let himself doubt any more. He's unable to stifle a yell of pain. He loses precious oxygen when he's just started. He has to finish or else this won't work.
He slices the left side of his neck to keep it balanced. More oxygen lost. Now that he's cut both sides of his neck, he can feel the cuts throbbing. It feels like the cuts are burrowing themselves deeper than he made them. They are creating new passageways into his lungs and they burn.
His instincts kick in and he begins to swim for the surface. The runes he set forth earlier start to glow and he finds himself unable to move far from the spot he started in. He's holding his breath in for as long as he can. There are more cuts to be made but he wants to pass out now. But he can't. He has to keep going.
It's when he starts making the second cut on the right side of his neck that he feels his first set of gills go from a burrowing sensation to a throbbing one. He's about to pass out, but it should be safe now. He just needs to breathe.
It's a battle of sheer will over his instincts to force himself to breathe in while underwater. He feels water go in through his gills yet not through his throat like an injection. It is shoddy and feels like when Noah is so congested he can only breathe through one nostril. That would likely be why he needs three pairs of gills total.
***
With at least enough air not to die, he forces himself to finish the ritual. By the end, he's underwater, breathing in and out. It's no longer panicked as he forces himself to take nice deep breaths. He has to pinch his nose shut to stop himself from instinctively breathing through it when underwater. He'll either stay here or keep coming down until breathing underwater comes more nautrally.
He still can't believe he's even thinking that. He's actually breathing underwater. He did magic. It can be done. This crazy, stupid plan of his might actually be doable.
It's a start.
[Safe for work summary: Through a lot of pain, Noah manages to make himself a working set of gills.]
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fearthetallman · 6 months
Text
Krang Pie Chapter 5
Warnings: gore, torture, krang cooked alive
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Chapter 5
When Mikey returned to his room the next day and pulled out the krang, it was still writhing around. The wound had stopped bleeding and the stump already began to heal. Still, it squirmed around as when he had first cut it off.
“Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?” he asked it. “Or are krangs just really sensitive to pain?”
It glared at him, face contorted in agony. “You blithering idiot. Even if my limb was detached, I still feel a connection to it. We evolved that trait so we could keep track of the split one.”
That was something he hadn’t considered when he bit the krang. It would just grow into a new one. Did he have a little krang squirming around his intestines? He was so stupid. Was revenge really worth losing himself? But he didn’t let it show as he talked to it. “So what? That happened hours ago.”
“Are all earthlings so dense? Surely you know what happens when food enters your stomach.” It groaned in pain.
The dots connected in Mikey’s head. The krang was being digested alive. Maybe he didn’t need the serum.
He picked up the chef’s knife he had brought in once before. Flashbacks to how sick he felt before made his hands tremble. This was so gross.
Think of the prison dimension he told himself. Leo finally making it home. Hugs from everyone. Tears. But as soon he let go, a spike goes through Raph. He’s dead. The krang stab both me and Donnie. Leo is so in shock he can’t even say anything. The krang comes up behind him.
“It’s all your fault,” it says.
And Leo would believe it.
How many times had Leo lived through that? How much guilt did he carry? Compared to that, getting his hands a little dirty wasn’t that bad. His grip tightened on the knife.
The krang sat up. “What are you doing? I hope you don’t think that pathetic little blade intimidates me. You’ll need much more than that to kill me.” He couldn’t tell if it was bluffing or genuinely that arrogant.
“I’m not going to kill you.”
It was getting a little easier to reach inside the cage this time. The krang was growing so big there was little space for it to escape to. He grabbed it by its fat pink arm to hold it in place as he sliced through another limb. His initial cut wasn’t strong enough to sever so he needed to saw it back and forth. It gushed blood out with a wet SPLAT, oozing out from the wound. It was not quick or painless. The krang screeched as he worked, cursing him in languages he couldn’t understand.
He cut almost all the way through, only a bit of flesh dangling onto the tentacle before he gave up with the knife. He grabbed the almost severed limb and yanked. It tore away with another shriek and the cage fell backwards, crashing onto the ground. For a second, Mikey worried it might have busted the cage door open. But it remained clasped closed. Then he worried he might have made too much noise. He peeked out of his room to see if anyone had heard. No one was even around. Everyone had grown much more secluded after the krang attack, staying in their rooms more often than before. He had nothing to worry about.
The tentacle squirmed in hand, wriggling until it slipped out from his hand. It landed on the ground with a wet thud. It writhed around and for a moment he was worried it was trying to escape. But watching it a bit longer he realized it had no idea what direction it was going, only squirming as muscle memory.
He wasn’t sure he could eat it now that it had been on the floor. Although he hadn’t been very eager to taste the rubbery, greasy meat again. Maybe it would taste better cooked? That would surely get rid of the germs.
Mikey pulled out a hot plate he had stolen from Donnie who had been going through an eat-nothing-but-ramen phase. He also had a couple of old pans he kept in here that he was too attached to for him to throw out. They weren't very good, but he really didn't want to risk going out to the kitchen and have the tentacle wriggle somewhere where it wasn't supposed to. He plugged in the hotplate, giving it a bit of time to heat up. Picking up the tentacle, he rinsed it with water from one of the dozens of half empty water bottles he had.
He placed the pan on the hot plate then paused. He didn't have any oil or butter or anything in his room. Maybe he could use water. There was a reason you didn't use water for frying but he couldn't remember it right now. Better than nothing. The water sizzled as it made contact with the heated metal.
He dropped the tentacle onto the pan. As soon as the flesh made contact the krang let out a shriek. At least he knew it wasn't lying about that.
He expected to feel guilty from what he was doing. And maybe he did, just a little. But stronger than that was the glee. The dark joy he got from knowing he was powerful enough to inflict pain on the monster that destroyed his brother's sanity. A pleasurable flame that lit up his heart from the inside out.
Letting the flesh cook, he walked over to the krang. It grimaced and shifted uncomfortably in its cage.
"How does it feel?" he asked.
"I've been through worse," it spat.
That ruined his mood. "Fine. Then I guess I'll have to put you through worse."
"Do what you will. A krang will never break." It must have adjusted to the pain. Or maybe the tentacle had fully died and the krang had no more connection to it. He glanced back at the pan. It was burning.
He cried out and ran over, going to flip the charring meat only to realize he had nothing to move it with. Dancing around, he looked around frantically but couldn't find anything. He grabbed the pan itself and flipped it, nearly dropping it again. It landed burnt side up and he saw there was no water left in the pan. That's right, evaporating.
He let it cook a few minutes longer before turning the burner off. It was mostly charred and definitely ruined. He considered throwing it away, but he had no way of explaining it away if it was found in the trash and he wasn't sure if it could still regenerate. So he opened his mouth and dropped it in.
The charred flavor made him grimace but the rest of it wasn't bad. It was tender and crisp at the edges. A much better flavor than raw. Maybe if he cooked it properly, it would actually taste good.
Before he could try again, however, someone called his name, saying everyone was going on a mission. He stored the krang back in the closet, making sure the hot plate was turned off before he ran out.
While they were out and patrolling the city for threats, Mikey couldn’t stop thinking about the krang. How much was he going to have to cut off to keep it from growing too big? What was he going to do with all of it? Maybe if he was able to get some better ingredients it wouldn't be so bad.
While Mikey had still been consistently making food, he’d kind of lost interest in experimenting. He hadn’t tried any new recipes or bought new food for a while. He just couldn’t bring himself to care. But now he couldn't stop thinking about—
"Look there he goes!"
He was snapped out his thoughts by Raph yelling. Looking across the street, he saw Hypnopotamus exiting a store blaring with alarms. Oh and some worm guy was on his shoulder. Everyone else was already leaping into action by the time Mikey processed all this information.
The hippo threw metal disks at Donnie, kicking Raph in the stomach and turned to slam his elbow into Leo. Mikey threw his nunchaku, circling it around the villain. Raph went in for another punch. The hippo jumped aside and the worm guy pulled the line tight, tripping Raph. The sudden force yanked Mikey forward and sent him sprawling on top of his brother.
Raph gently pried Mikey off him and went back to the battle. Mikey shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts clouding his mind. The battle was happening around him, but he felt like an outsider. An observer instead of a participant.
Why was he here again?
He watched as they took the villain down, shouts of defeat and victory muffled in his ears. It reminded him. Reminded him of…
“Leo, please don’t do this.”
“Casey, close the portal.”
His heart froze in time. Leo is disappearing. So is the krang. It’s the only option. It was something Leo has to do. He has to keep it there. He has to sacrifice himself. He has to abandon his family.
Has to abandon Mikey.
“Mikey, heads up!” It took a second for Leo’s voice to register. Too long to avoid the metal disk that came flying at his head. He ducked but not fast enough as it sliced into his skin. Warmth dripped from the wound and fell into his eyes. The disk embeds itself into the wall of the building behind him.
Raph and Donnie rushed over to him while Leo stayed with the now tied up villains.
“Mikey are you okay?” Raph asked, already pawing his little brother with his giant hands.
“Yeah, I’m…” The present clicks back into focus. “I’m fine, it’s a little cut.”
Donnie measured. “Actually, it’s about an inch long so saying ‘little’ is a pretty inaccurate—”
“Not helping, Donnie!” Raph tore off some of the bandage wrapped around his hands and tied it to Mikey’s head. “Are you feeling alright? You seemed kind of distracted.”
“Yeah, I was just thinking about…” Leo. Helplessness. Abandonment. The krang. “What to make for supper tomorrow.”
Raph’s face shifted from concern to annoyance. “We were in the middle of a fight! You need to focus or you could get even more hurt than this.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” And he was. He couldn’t let this happen again. Getting his revenge would be useless if it consumed everything in his life.
As they left the villains tied up for the cops, everyone traded jokes as they headed home. But something circled in Mikey's head, turning around and around but never leaving. That day he almost lost Leo. The krang. The krang. The krang. Everyone else had gotten their mind infested with it except for him. It was a coincidence. It had to be. There was no way they purposefully didn't choose him. It just wasn't logical.
But...
He hadn't suffered as much as his brothers had. They had gone through real trauma while he had been protected from the worst of it, again.
When they got home, they ordered pizza as a victory prize. No cooking until later. Mikey forced himself not to think about it too much when he was with his brothers. They deserved his attention. He pushed all the thoughts away and they all had fun like they used to.
But once he was in his room, all the bad thoughts began to overflow.
The krang didn't seem surprised when he pulled it out of the closet. Was it already getting used to this? It seemed slightly bigger than before but not growing at the rate it used to. Looks like he was right.
He pulled out the knife and the krang flinched.
"What's wrong?" He taunted. "Scared?"
The krang puffed out its chest. "Of something like you? Hardly. None of what you've done is even a sliver of the pain inflicted on your brother." It grinned smugly.
The screams that followed, however, were anything but.
He'd cut off three arms this time, finding it a little easier each time he did it. Still, his arm muscles ached and he swiped sweat from his brow. There was a smattering of blood on his arm. Had he got any on his face? He picked up a discarded t-shirt and cleaned himself, scrubbing extra hard at his face. It left sickly brown streaks on the fabric and knew he'd have to throw this shirt away, krang blood or otherwise.
He placed the squirming arms in a dusty old Mason jar he never got around to using. They crawled over each other, one always struggling underneath the other like maggots. He screwed the lid on, just in case.
The kitchen was empty when he entered, Good. He rifled around the pantry and cupboards until he located some cooking oil and basic garlic salt. Best to start off small. He had almost made it back when he bumped into someone. Donnie.
“Oh, hey Mikey. We were just about to watch skateboarding fails, care to join us?”
It was tempting. Watching people fall over was always funny. But he was too excited about his other thing. “Sorry, D. I’m working on some new recipes right now.”
Donnie waved him off unenthusiastically. “Okay, but if you want me to be your test subject, don’t overseason it.”
His definition of “overseasoning” was anything more than salt. “You got it, bro.”
He released a small sigh when he returned unquestioned.
“What’s wrong?” the krang asked. “Fighting off a guilty conscience?”
“No!” he snapped. The krang should be the last creature talking to him about guilt. “Did you feel any guilt when you tortured my brother?”
“Hardly. I quite enjoyed it, actually.”
It wasn’t enough that he cut them once. This time he chopped each in four pieces, feeling a giddy spark each time the krang flinched.
He drizzled oil onto the pan, making sure to cover it entirely. When the flesh was placed into the hot oil, it didn’t even flinch. Looks like the nerves couldn’t move. The krang still groaned. He poked it around, making sure that it didn’t burn. The smell that wafted over was a bit unusual. It had the aroma of chicken with a hint of fish. He hoped it would taste better than it smelled.
After ten minutes, he shut the hot plate off. He had expected the meat to turn brown but instead it was just a darker pink. Sprinkling some garlic salt, he picked up a piece and popped it in his mouth. The skin burst and the sweetness was more subtle than before. Now it was more savory and crunchier. It was easy to chew it and didn’t leave any aftertaste.
Not bad, but he felt he could do better.
He finished off the rest of them and put the krang back in the closet. If he hurried, he might still be able to catch his brothers watching. He needed a little fun.
[Next]
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aelaer · 1 year
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I love writing; I want to write I'm not able to. Whenever I open a document, ready to write, it's like my fingers get stuck, hovering over the keyboard. It is frustrating and upsetting and doesn't help my non-existing confidence and self-worth.
I know people say it helps when you talk with friends about your writing but I only have one friend and I've annoyed them enough with my writing problems (since we longer share the same fandoms). And I'm scared of people and self-isolate myself from them because my past fandom experiences weren't the best.
Aww love *big hugs* 🫂 Thank you for your trust in sharing this personal information with me. I presume that you shared it with me on the hope that I would give some thoughts and ideas on these troubles. I will do my best to give you an answer that will hopefully be of some use to you. If you just needed to let it off your chest and do not wish for thoughts and non-professional advice, please don't read beyond this paragraph. And if that's the case I just wish the best for you and hope things get better!
But if you're still reading this second paragraph, here's some of my own musings on what you've divulged. (Note - I'm not a professional health person, this stuff is from memory of things I've read and my memory may be spotty.)
The funny thing about hobbies is that they're meant to enrich your life, but oftentimes you can only easily partake in them if you're already in a good place. If you're stressed about work, school, family or friends, it gets hard to focus on things you enjoy. If your health is in the toilet, it's sometimes hard to do hobbies as well. This includes mental health.
It's a bit of a terrible cycle. You want to create, but you are too down to create, which makes you feel even more down than you were before. This is terribly common and it's such a difficult cycle to break.
How exactly do you solve it? I don't think there's an easy solution, or a solution that fits everyone. But I have the following on "things" to try split into different parts, if you want to give any of these a shot. They touch on each of the items you mentioned in your post:
Getting In The Mood To Write
Set up a sprint. Don't know what sprinting is? Here's an article about sprints. Don't have a Discord writing server where sprints are set up? Here's a free sprint site.
Is the story you *want* to write not easily coming to mind? Why not start on some writing prompts. This link has prompts that would be about 1-3 paragraphs to complete per prompt. Need more flexibility? These prompts could be answered in a couple sentences, a paragraph, or a page. None of these may be the story you've been trying to write, but they're a good way to get your muscle memory in your fingers and word-forming in your head to get started again. You can do as little or as many as you like. They can be fiction or non-fiction. You can even answer the prompts as your favorite fictional character if you'd like to for the personal writing ones.
How calm are your surroundings and your mind? This article goes into some tips about setting the mood and getting your mind prepared for the space. It also goes into the importance of the mind being in the right space for it, which goes into my next section.
Caring For Yourself
I really like the article I linked in point three because it emphasizes, in very large text, "Be kind to yourself and let it flow". This is one of the most difficult things to learn because if you've spent a long time beating yourself up for not doing the thing, not being good enough, and other self-negative terminology, that'll be deep within your psyche. Unlearning all of these negative feelings about yourself is not done in a day, or a week, or possibly not even a month or year.
One method of combating these negative feelings is by saying (out loud or on paper) positive things about yourself: that you *are* enough, that you are talented/worth it/hardworking, whatever it is to combat whatever you've been telling yourself that has lowered your self-esteem. This has to become a habit, by the way--something you schedule in your day and that you stick to like clockwork. This self-affirming self-care language is supposed to eventually sink in, because if it is so often in the upper conscious, it eventually sinks to the subconscious. Or at least, that's what the science of it says.
Depending on how long this feeling continues and how many aspects of your life it affects, you may want to consider speaking with a professional about it. If that is not a viable solution, doing some research on what you can do to help yourself could help. Just stick with reputable sites--the .edu's and the like.
One blog I really like following is @insanitysilver because of their constant positivity around writing both original and fan fiction. There's a lot of reaffirming content about being kind to yourself on bad writing days, to your WIPs, and just being a writer (and reader!) in general. This may help give you a pick-me-up in your browsing of tumblr.
Getting Into The Fandom Community
I 100% get not wanting to get into fandom again because you've had bad experiences in the past. Oh my *goodness*, I can't count all the terrible experiences I've had in online fandom spaces and online RP spaces in the 20 years I've been active online and all the hurt that came with it. Heck, I'm friends with a mutual who is also interacting with the person who told me they were disgusted that I had given kudos on their fic and said some absolutely *nasty* things to me, and we're both still active in the same fandom.
Unfortunately it comes with human interaction. If you hide from it forever, you may miss out on some absolutely amazing experiences and beautiful friendships.
Toxic people are everywhere, unfortunately, but you learn to recognize them and, in the online space, block them. And those toxic people (like the one I mentioned above) have to live with their nastiness and you start to feel sorry for them, because how sad must that person be to go out of their way to put others down in such a horrid manner?
If it's a matter of miscommunications and misunderstanding, that gets easier to deal with with experience and time. Experience is a big part of it. Have I committed some big social mistakes and major faux pas in my past? Yes, absolutely, including in the fandom I'm still active in. I have major foot-in-mouth disease, and I feel pretty bad about those! When I can, I try to repair relationships. When I can't, I've learned to apologize where I can when I'm at fault and move on. You don't need to be friends with everyone in the fandom to have a good time.
To start getting involved: joining a fandom Discord would be my recommendation. You can usually find one via Google. Some are super large, so you may want to try and find smaller shipping ones, or character-based ones as opposed to a huge community. The cool thing about this is that you can lurk for a time to see how the community interacts before stepping in, which is a nice part about Discord.
Another way to connect with folks is via tumblr. Look up the fandom tags here and start following folks who post a lot about your favorite things! First you can start with reblogs, then reblogs with tags, and then comments and asks. Baby steps at your own pace.
I definitely recommend connecting with several people if at all possible because you'll have several people to talk about fandom stuff with, and writing with, and if you have a falling out with one of them, it won't feel like you're completely out of the loop. I'd also recommend that you connect with folks who aren't all mutuals -- spread it out. In one of my largest fandom schisms several years ago, a whole RP group kicked me out because the leader was an ableist asshole. But I had several other RP partners to fall back on and to help me through the tough time. It's similar in the fandom space--you want to be friendly with several folks. That's one reason Discord is so great-- you can be in several Discord groups with a variety of people and be acquaintances, friends, and good friends with several folks. If for some reason one of the Discord groups is actually a poisonous hellhole and they're awful to you, you can back out and fall back to the other group without feeling like you've completely disconnected from everyone in fandom. There's a space for everyone.
If your fandom is my corner of the MCU, I'd recommend both the Stephen Strange Discord and IronStrange Discord. They're wholesome groups and you can comfortably lurk there until you're ready to talk about the fun stuff. If you don't have those links, just send me a follow-up ask for which one you'd like and I'll post a 7-day link.
This was pretty darn long, but I hope I could be of some assistance, if assistance was what you were looking for. Best wishes, anon--things do get better.
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