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xxx-sir-pentious-xxx · 12 days

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Pentious fucking wrecks the Vs[title pending]

Absolutely funny and cool and badass, totally not written by pentious lol, angel dust is sneaky.

Angel dust made one joke, resulting in the fight being stopped and Cherri being forced to let the battle go, especially since Sir Pentious would leave her terf alone permanently. Only for his son would he do this.

The trick went so far that Pentious actually got to the hotel before the opportunist Alastor.

Due to the fight being stopped in such a sweet manner the news report went may smoother. Peoples opinions shifted, maybe the hotel was reforming Angel Dust, I mean really hes reuniting with his father.

All was going so well, Pentious was funding the hotel and manning it with security. Angel had to rein his emotions a few times but eventually he was warming up to the crew, he was getting protective of them. They were like his eggies, precious and fragile.

It was the moment Angel mentioned his soul contract and abuse that Sir Pentious snapped a bit and hugged Angel close,

"My sssweet son... I'll fix thiss. Dont you worry your precious little head..."

And like that he began crafting with angelic steel. It was intense, the look on his face when he was eating with his crew, his family. Within two days he was ready. He showed off the look of it to angel who was honestly freaked out.

"Hey uh.. Dad ya arent gonna... you wont actually do it right?.. it's dangerous you might get hurt..."

Angel had actually gotten pretty fond of his 'dad', his confidence scared him as he got hugged and watched Pentious go to slaughter the V's like a assassin.

He played it cool.

Then as soon as someone made a fuss he threatened and made it clear what hes there for, it took a simple look of the weapon to make anyone crack.

To be honest most kept it easy, some gladly guided him, hell they begged him to do it.

It felt so good to meet the V's all together and the be seen as a real threat. Vox tried to do something but Pentious had frequency jammers. He got loud at Pentious calling his bluff, which only resulted in a chest shot,

"IM NOT FUCKING AROUND. YOU WILL TAKE ME FUCKING SERIOUSLY, IM GONNA FUCKING KILL EACH ONE OF YOU."

Val couldnt fly, not good but he tried, it only lead to his wings being blown off and most of his back.

Velvette got the idea to call for help but got told shes shit outta luck, they wanted to be free. Her head was quickly blown off.

Pentious slithered to the dying Val who's completely in shock.

"I wanted sssome of your fluff."

The sound of a blade was heard and next thing anyone knew he had his head. Then a feeling washed over Pentious.

"I... I won. I WON. Oh I'm sssso happy!"

He turned off the jammer and the cameras showed the scene to the masses after a few minutes. A employee probably wanted to see what had happened completely forgetting to not broadcast it. Or did they?

The masses saw the mess, they saw Pentious laughing about it, Vals head in hand,

"I MURDERED THE V'sss IM THE SsECOND GREATEST OVERLORD EVER!!! I DONT NEED TO PRETEND TO BE THREATENING ANYMORE!!"

He could finally relax his worries, no more dangers now to him, only peace.

What he didn't consider was how the people seemed to flock around him, worshipping him almost, yeah he owned them now but he expected.. what? He wasnt sure really.

He appointed the workers, his new underlings to just do whatever felt right. Broadcast what they like, make whatever. Oh and he made sure to make the bank accounts and funds of the V's his own. That way he can afford and handle these things.

He felt so... powerful. He was like a king.

"King Cobra sssoundsss good... yeah, king cobra! Hass a ring to it..."

People could finally think again, no more tv hypnosis, no more pain from unwanted sex or being stabbed with needles. Sir Pentious was a hero to them.

Alastor felt a bit threatened and tried to talk to him when he assumed it right but didnt account for the fact he scared the snake and was quickly dead too.

"Oopsss! Oh hehe, well who's gonna care.. no one will know! This meansss I own his soulsss too now... FUCK YEAH IM AWESssOME!!"

He slithered along into the hotel glad to be home, feeling cocky as fuck. He made sure he put the safety on the canon gun and turned it off to avoid another accidental murder.

His family and crew was small he felt. He gave his new power a try, spawning Nifty and Husk and eagerly telling them their new roles and that they really couldn't back out but he wasnt gonna beat them if they were gonna be stubborn. Everyone watched him giggle and play with his powers outside,

"Aw yesss, I'm so powerful!! No drawbacks!"

He was a good leader really, he can do it all. He will do it all. He noted his looked bigger too, more filled out, tail bigger. He could hug his new family with this tail! He had to stim a little and decided it was safe to slowly let loose some power into the air making everything glittery. He couldnt sleep, he was much too energized and high off it all.

Angel dust had to really take in the fact that he started this. Wasnt bad feeling actually. Felt great, he could feel it too. Felt warm and fun. Felt like child to father love.

#Sir pentious #hazbin hotel #overlord killer #Sir Pentious is a fucking king now in my au shhhhh

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ddagent · 2 years

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If there are still free slots to be had, I'd be happy to get some J/D Family Fun. Maybe John gets David his first costume without bothering to introduce Delenn to the concept first. (But feel very free to ignore this, obviously.) Whatever you do, have fun with your Promptathon!

Plenty of free prompt slots! Very excited to be writing some autumnal/Halloween goodness.

Read at AO3

Delenn stirred early, never able to sleep quite well when she stayed with John’s family on Earth. Perhaps it was the time difference; perhaps it was the flat bed with a mound of pillows. Either way, Delenn found herself in another restless sleep and reached over for her husband. Her hand found cool sheets; John’s pillow barely indented. A frown creasing her brow, Delenn pulled herself into a sitting position and stared into the darkness of the guest bedroom. Sometimes – thankfully not as often, now – John would be unable to sleep. Memories of Z’ha’dum, of Mars, lingered in dark corners. But he was not there.

Pulling on her robe, Delenn slipped from the guest room and traversed the still-unfamiliar halls of the Sheridan home. Her palm lingered on the doorway to David’s bedroom; a brief look-in revealed her son propped up on four pillows, clutching a stuffed gok, snoring pleasantly. A muttered ouch from two doors down stole Delenn from her son’s doorway. The study in the corner offered a sliver of light into the hall and the fractured image of her husband.

Easing the door open, Delenn stared at her beloved. “John? What are you doing?”

Of all the images she had expected to find, Delenn had not expected this one. Reams of fabric. A contraption that seemed to exist solely for the joining of material. Her husband – who had little patience in the very best of moments – was holding a needle and thread. His answer was equally unexpected. “I’m working on David’s Halloween costume.”

Delenn lifted her brow. “Halloween? Do you mean to tell me, John Sheridan, that there is another Earth holiday I am unaware of?”

“Says the beautiful alien woman with fifty courtship rituals,” John shot back, before immediately stabbing himself with a needle. Delenn restrained her smile at the karmic nature of the universe as her husband sucked his thumb between his lips. Shaking off the pain, he explained. “Halloween is a celebration of the macabre, the spooky. It was originally a pagan holiday where the dead were said to revisit the land of the living.”

“Like the Brakiri festival.”

“Exactly. Although now-a-days it’s very commercialised. For little kids like David, they dress up and go door-to-door asking for candy. Trick or treating, it’s called. We’re on Earth this year for Halloween and I thought David should have a costume. Mom used to make mine and Lizzie’s so I thought I’d do the same for David.” John held up a black jacket where he was embroidering the symbol of the Anla’shok. It was not, perhaps, the detailed and delicate lines of the uniform Delenn had gifted John so many years ago. But it was made with just as much love. “What do you think?”

“He will adore it, John.”

He beamed. “Good.”

“But, perhaps, your work would yield better results in daylight?” Delenn knelt by John’s feet, resting her hand atop his. She admired his diligence, his dedication. But she also knew that three am was the time to sleep, not sew. “Come back to bed.”

John nodded absentmindedly; so consumed was he with the task of finishing David’s costume. It would have been adorable if it was not equally frustrating. “In a little while, Delenn; I just want to finish this panel. Ouch!”

Resisting the urge to shake her head at the stubborn Human the Universe had given her as a mate, Delenn took John’s injured finger and pressed it to her lips. She kissed the tip of his finger, as Humans were wont to do when injuries occurred, before drawing it between her lips and sucking hard. The flat of her tongue pressed against the pad of his finger; John’s stuttered breath revealing he had forgotten all about their son’s costume for that night. Delenn released his finger with a slight pop before rising between John’s legs.

“Well, if you do not wish to—”

“—you fight dirty, Mrs Sheridan, you know that, right?”

“True. And yet, you would not have me any other way.”

With muffled laughter, they returned to their room. David’s costume was completed before the celebrations; their son receiving an overwhelming number of confectionary goods. That night, however, it was John and Delenn who got the treat.

#john x delenn #john sheridan #delenn #babylon 5 #kenaran #dd: prompts #tv: babylon 5 #ship: john x delenn #ahhhh so excited to be writing these two again #I have missed them terribly

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systems-overloaded · 8 months

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had to use an epipen... but have traumas around needles that i am not controlling. (an auto-injector, is technically not a needle i am in control of.)

i couldnt tell if anaphylaxis was switching from slow-onset/progession to rapid (or if bc i was trying to psych myself up for so long it just progressed to more life threatening stage) or if it was just a panic attack causing symptoms while trying to psych myself up to inject myself (ontop of initial anaphylaxis symptoms, i got severe chest pain, heart palpitations, severe nausea, face and mouth numb and tingly, severe difficulty breathing, feeling like i went underwater and about to pass out...)

its so hard, bc i try to. i try, but the arms fucking stop before i can stab my fricking leg. like, ummm I WANT TO LIVE??? let me administer my own fucking epipen??? but my body just... wont. someone within or maybe just fear stops me from doing it. so i try to psych myself up, try to see if i could maybe just put it against my leg and then push down with my body weight, while imaging that i am the one controlling the needle. it doesnt work. tried this and various other methods.

eventually i ended up accidentally triggering the epipen... but it was inside my skin for less than one second bc it like "kicks back". ugh ughhhhhhh.

im going to try and meditate and reiki myself, and take more bendryl too. hope i wont need another epi... honestly idk if ill be able to do it again. the needle wasnt even bad, it didnt even hurt. but idk if ill get worked up again abt it.

id been telling myself, "the fear wont get in the way if i had rapid-onset anaphylaxis, so ik in the future id be fine to just stab myself. im only hesitating and having this issue because this exact moment is not life threatening (even though it will progress to that??)" but after that, when i legit think it couldve been mostly actual anaphylaxis issues, rather than just a panic attack... and i still wasnt able to as i was legit abt to pass out?? fuck fuckkkk. im concerned. how do i get over this? how do i help myself in emergencies?

ik ive had to have someone else administer epipens in the past when anaphylaxis has presented with increased weakness or confusion and i wasnt able to do it myself.

but idk if i could allow myself to let someone else do it... that makes it a needle im in even less control of. fuck.

#tw needles #tw vent

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 3 years

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Perfect Imperfections

Sam WIlson One Shot

Summary- 2.7k Sam Wilson x Reader. After a lifetime of issues with your skin that result in some scaring, you have a condition called hidradenitis suppurativa. (a chronic skin condition that has painful flare ups and leaves scars.) Letting Sam see these imperfections scare you, but he is a patient man. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics

Warnings- Needle use, mentions of skin imperfections, sexual moments. This is an 18+ Only Blog.

A/N- This is written for @gotnofucks Body Positivity Challenge. As soon as I saw this challenge, I knew the topic I wanted to tackle with this. Thank you for such a wonderful challenge to participate in. Much Love always babes.

Sam Masterlist

“I have what?” You cringe at the name, it's a long complicated name that ties up your tongue when you try to repeat it, the doctor gives a knowing smile in sympathy.

“Hidradenitis Suppurativa, or HS.” He offered a simpler option for you, maybe one that wasn't so intimidating to say.

“And how do I treat it?” You question nervously, what horror was it going to be? Some sort of surgery, endless medications, injections, or worse… would he tell you there was nothing to do but live with it.

You were tired of living with it, you had the scars left over and really didn't want anymore.

“I’m going to write you a prescription, some antibiotics and an injection that you will need every week.”

Your heart lifted a bit when he filled out the email, sending it to your pharmacy. “Thank you.” you said with some relief that there was a solution to treating it. But nothing could take away what its already left behind.

All your life you lived with these small sores that just came out of nowhere in the worst spots; inside of your thighs, under your breasts, under your arms. All these years you had been embarrassed to go to a doctor about them. But Sam finally convinced you to go when he saw you in pain and refused to let him come near you because they made you feel disgusting.

That was the hardest part of it, was feeling you were hideous when you had someone like Sam who swore up and down every day that you were beautiful and tried so hard to prove it to you. Little text messages throughout the day, a surprise note stuck to the bathroom mirror for you to find, date nights out walking along the street with his arm around you and constantly whispering in your ear how he had the prettiest girl in town. All little things that he was persistent on, and sometimes they even worked. You would feel that shame lifting and your smile brightening for him.

He would wink and press a kiss to your forehead in these moments. “That’s my girl.”

Now you were sitting on the edge of your bed with the injection pen, your hand shaking slightly from the nerves. Earlier a nurse had shown you how to use it, and what to expect.

But stabbing yourself was a different story then letting someone else do it. Your fear was getting the best of you and you had to set the injection pen aside.

You drew in a ragged breath now that you were no longer holding the offending item, scolding yourself for not being able to do something so simple.

Something your body needed desperately, cause maybe the flare ups wouldn't be so bad, you wouldn't be embarrassed to let Sam see you like he wanted, less pain. All of it could be better if you could get past this point.

You never heard Sam come down the hallway towards your bedroom and happened to see you push away the injection, curl up on yourself on the bed. More then anything he wanted to take all of that pain and insecurity away from you, cause damn you were unlike anyone hes dated before. Sweeter then his grandma’s sweet tea, he could just bask in your glow that you brought to a room. Your laughter never failed to catch his attention from across a room and when you would set your sight on him, give that soft affectionate smile. Oh he was done. You made him feel like the only one in the room.

And that was just the minor stuff. Everything in his building relationship with you settled in him as it all being so right, Sam was finding he wanted nothing more then to keep building a life with you. So these moments tore him because he just wanted to fix it for you.

Sam gave a soft knock on the door frame before stepping into the bedroom. “Hey Sugar, you alright?” You rubbed at your face as the bed dipped from Sam sitting next to you and he grasped the injection pen, rolling it lightly in his fingers.

“Yes…” You lied at first and Sam gave you a look, an arch of his brow that asked for the truth. “No. Im supposed to inject that and fuck it, my hand wont stop shaking just thinking about it.” You grasped your hands together and held them still.

Sam rolled the injection in his own hands and tilted his head towards you, ghosting his lips against your cheek. “Would you like me to give it to you?”

You cringed a bit, not that you didn't trust him, you trusted Sam immensely. You trusted him more everyday that you two were together. Sam was your strength, the one you leaned on.

But you haven't been able to give up your body issues. That was something you were still scared to death for him to see. So much you wouldn't even let him see you completely naked in the light. Every night you would scramble to darken the room before settling into bed for the night. The horrible scars between your thighs that prevented you from wearing shorts or short skirts, the flare ups that shamed you till you would hide away making some lame excuse why you couldn't go out. Now this, having to take the shot made you squirm a bit to top all the other stuff.

Sam tilted his head to brush his lips to your shoulder, trying to ease you. “If you want, I can give it to you. My Gram used to have me help her once in a while with her diabetes injections. You have a trained professional right here.” He tried putting you at ease, getting you through your uncomfortable feelings, but you pulled away a bit more.

“No, it's not entirely that Sam.” You twisted your fingers together, looking down. “It’s-uhh- fuck. It's complicated.”

He frowned a bit, setting the injection aside and reached his hand to cover yours, tugging lightly till your fingers weaved with his. “Well then let's uncomplicate it Y/N.”

You lifted your gaze to look at him, this man who had the softest brown eyes and a smile that made your insides melt with just a few words, you felt silly, guilty and like a disappointment admitting anything out loud.

“Me, I'm a mess. I will always have to do these shots, my body is going to have these issues whenever it feels like, I hate looking like this, I'm so scared to let you see me…” You dropped it all, Sam’s hand giving slight squeezes and when your voice started to crack, your words getting ahead of thoughts so they were all a rush, he reached to twist you to face him, his hands moving to cup your face, thumbs sweeping sway at some of those tears tracking down your face.

“Oh Sugar, if you could see what I see, you wouldn't be worried about what I see anymore. Your stunning, fucking beautiful baby and I’m more then happy to remind you everyday.”

“You don’t know Sam, it's so ugly…” You started and he let his forehead lean against yours to calm you. You felt his hands slide around you and yours eased around him, breathe in, breathe out, let your mind stop racing.

“You don’t have to show me today, or tomorrow. Never if you are never okay with it. It's not going to change what I feel and know. So I will remind you everyday that you are the most beautiful woman to me. You love me flaws and all after all.”

You rolled your eyes a bit, scoffing. “You make it easy Sam.”

Winking at you, he slid his hands up and down your back while he eased away. “And you don’t? Sugar, you are so good to me that Sarah already told me I would be a fool to let you get away.” You could feel yourself loosening in his hold, your own arms circling up around his neck to press against him, each hugging one another. You could feel soft presses of his lips to your neck, squeezing you a bit closer. “And I agree.”

You giggled softly, nuzzling in against him and letting his strong feel and warmth wash over you. Hints of warm cedar and sandalwood tickled your nose, and suddenly everything was just better. You pulled away with a gentle “Thank You Handsome”

“Anytime Baby… now... “ He picked up the injection one more time and dragged his teeth against his bottom lip for a moment in thought. “We don’t have to rush with anything until you are ready. But this…” He tapped the pen against his fingers. “Will you let me help you with it?”

You nodded and he moved to kneel in front of you, heavy palms rubbing against the top of your jean clad thighs as you moved your shirt up over your belly.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous about this.” You say shakily and Sam smiles that reassuring one of his that makes you feel at ease.

“Don’t you worry Sugar, I got you.” He was gentle when he pinched a bit of your skin and pressed the pen to the area. You started shivering, your breathing caught. “Hey, look at me, m’kay?” It took a moment to pry your eyes away from the pen to his warm eyes. “Not gonna hurt, I promise.”

Then there was a loud click and you jumped more in surprise at the sudden noise than anything. A slight sting was soon erased with giddiness that it was over and he was pulling the now emptied pen away from your belly. You sagged slightly in relief and Sam pushed himself up, gripping your chin gently and pressing an affectionate kiss to your mouth.

“Told you Sugar, I got you.”

Couple Months Later

You and Sam were messing around on the couch, your head laughing as he hovered over you, he was belting out a very off key rendition of Barry White’s Your Sweetness Is My Weakness while skimming fingers along your sides under your tank top and kissing down your neck. Your hands rubbed over his head to fist in the back of his shirt and tug it over his head, discarding it over the back of the cough. His own rucking your tank top over your head and leaning back on his thighs, whistling at you all stretched out before him on the couch, making you cover your face in embarrassment. “Hey, none of that. Fuck Sugar, you are so damn fine.” that last word hissed from between his teeth as his eyes dripped molten warmth, flaring in the pit of your belly.

You peeked at him from between your fingers and arched slightly to reach behind you, unsnapping your bra and he eased it down, giving a groan.

A very appreciative groan. The groan of a man who saw something he really wanted.

His mouth landed on you as well as his hands, roaming supple soft curves and tasting your sweet skin, like a collection of honey dew salt on his tongue. A nipple swirled around his tongue with a hum that was like a jolt to your system.

Lacing your veins with desire, you felt the mindless buzz of worries start to fade to the background while you enjoyed the sensations he built in you. Now and then you would catch sight of his gaze flickering upwards to you, a check in that you were okay with how this was progressing. Your body had a mind of its own, clearly aware of how to roll under his hands, enabling him to shift you further down the couch till he was inching to a kneel between your spread thighs. His hands slipped over your hips to hook his fingers in the band of your shorts, your hips arched for him to drag them away, but that is where Sam stopped. You gave an impatient whine and flickered your gaze up at him. A slight sheen of sweat coasted across his broad tensed chest, every part of him held back with anticipation, and you couldn't for the life of you figure out why Sam stopped right here.

“This is what you want, Sugar? Are you okay with this?”

Then it occurred to you he was giving you the option to say no. Some of those anxieties started to drift back, your fingers twisting together as you spiraled away from the moment. You wished he just kept going, not giving you the option. But that wasn't who Sam was.

It was now or never, and your resolve settled in you, almost a comfort that you were taking this step with him. A nod made Sam drag his teeth across his bottom lip, taking your confirmation to continue.

You squeezed your eyes shut while your shorts came off, and you felt the familiar calloused hands sweep along the inside of your thighs and spread you open wider, a soft gasp from him making your eyes shoot open in fear, was he repulsed by the scars?! You knew you should have never let it get this far. Everything in you was afraid to look and see his reaction, just picturing his handsome face looking at you in disgust.

What you saw was anything but, Sam looked you up and down with nothing but lust in his eyes and an appreciative groan as he let his thumb trace along your slit, spreading your lips apart. “Y/N, you are absolutely beautiful Sugar, and all for me? What a gift.”

You hovered at the pool side bar while Natasha mixed together a luscious fruity drink, anyone who said these drinks were “girly” simply didn't know. The amount of liquor she mixed with vibrant syrups till you had a tropical blue concoction would get you buzzed faster than any one shot of liquor could. It was just what you wanted. An explosion of fruit on your tongue that would leave you feeling good. When she handed it over, you sipped from the frosty edge with an appreciative hum. “Mmhh, perfect.” You praise while she wedged on a pineapple slice to the brim.

“I know, you are telling me nothing new Y/N.” She teased while she whipped up her own, the red head sauntering out from behind the bar with her own drink, the two of you approaching the pool side to sit in the warm sunshine. Natasha settled in one lounger, stretching herself out with another sip of her drink before setting it aside.

You spread a towel out and then unwrapped your cover to let your two piece bikini be revealed, no longer hiding yourself away.

You felt no more shame in the scars inside your thighs, the dimpling of skin where sore have healed over and over. Sam had helped you chase those fears away over time and now when you applied your sunscreen, you looked over your shoulder to see Sam strolling along the pools edge, his eyes all over you with a wide grin. Making his way over to you two, his hand sweeping around you to grasp your sunscreen bottle while kissing your shoulder. “Let me Sugar... “ He brushed his nose against your neck while moving to sit in the other seat, scooting closer to spread the sunscreen across your shoulders. “You look fantastic by the way. Is this a new swimsuit?”

You hummed while tilting your head forward, popping a shoulder as if it was no big deal, but it was the first time you had worn a swimsuit out in public in longer than you could remember. You felt his arms circle your mid section, pulling you back into his set so you could lounge back against his chest, your legs weaved through his.

“Brand new Sam, do you like it?”

He growled lightly against your ear while nipping your earlobe, whispering against the shell of your ear while he flushed playful kisses to that sweet spot just behind your ear.

“Very much so, good luck stopping me from peeling you from it later.”

Playful touches and heated kisses made you feel just like his queen in the summertime sunshine, unable to keep his affections to himself.

#dibspositivitychallenge #sam wilson x reader #bodypositivity #tw hs #tw skin condition #tw needles #amber writes #sweater writes

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cathrrrine · 3 years

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RUN | Pietro x Reader

Originally from my Wattpad

CHAPTER 15 - GHOST

----

[2009.]

Cold, unforgiving metal met the tender skin of my arm as I blocked his punch. That's going to leave a bruise. His blows were getting stronger, faster. He was testing my skills, they wanted to see how far I could be pushed. Although I wasn't far from the edge, I wasn't going to let myself fail today either.

"Focus!" He yelled.

I grimaced, ducking under his arm and landing a punch to his gut. Rookie move, but it was all I had at that moment. He grabbed my arm, quick as lightning, and dragged me by the chin so he could look me in the eye. My fists were still clenched but the exhaustion was starting to take a toll on me. I panted heavily as I tried to mask how drained I was.

With my arm still in his grasp, he said, "Who are you fighting for?"

It was almost a mantra that I was forced to reiterate every single time I fucked up. "Hydra."

He said it again, louder this time, his grip on my hand growing tighter. He could break my wrist if I didn't deliver. Hell, he could break every single limb I had. I couldn't fail.

"Hydra!" I scoffed. I belonged to them. I had to die for them. Hydra ran through my blood, and if it was ever spilled one day, it would be justified in their name.

That's what they told me.

Who was I to question them? I was nothing but a vessel, a weapon for these people. If I failed to deliver what was asked of me, I'd be killed. How ironic was that? To kill or be killed.

I hated it.

As soon as he let my arm go, I thrusted the top of my head into his face. I heard what sounded like his nose breaking and true enough, as I regained my balance and faced him, I found him wiping blood from his nose with the heel of his hand. It was satisfying, to say the least, to see that I finally made a dent.

"Perfect." He nodded.

God, it wasn't over yet.

He pulled his knives out of the holsters he wore, spinning them in the air and catching them both flawlessly. It was his signature trick. Honestly, I thought it was a bit too dramatic. But what can I say? Hydra loves their drama.

"Pay attention." He pointed the tip of the knife towards me. "Or you'll bleed."

He pounced, spinning his knives like they were toys and not murder weapons. He thrusted his right knife in the vague direction of my shoulder, I took a half-step back and circled around so I was behind him. It only took a second for him to whip around again, but I expected that move. So, I threw my leg up as soon as he did and I kicked the weapon out of his grip.

The knife spun around threateningly in the air before falling onto the concrete across the room with a thump. He didn't seem to pay any mind to his fallen weapon. That's when I remembered he had another. He twirled it around his fingers before gripping the handle and thrusting his right arm with full force, the gears of his metal arm whirring as he did so.

I thought I had it. I jumped back so he wouldn't catch my rib, but he was quick to calculate my movements. I should have known.

The pain was searing.

Blood oozed out of the newly-made wound on my calf, the knife buried to the hilt. I screamed uncontrollably as the pain of it kicked in, my body going limp immediately.

"That's enough, soldat."

Tears were falling down my face against my will. You know how sometimes your body does things you don't want it to do? I know, logically, tears were just how your body reacted to certain things. For example, being stabbed in the goddamn calf. But I knew, despite literal fucking science, the people around me took it as a sign of weakness. That's how messed up in the head they are.

But I wasn't weak. I just got through 2 hours of intensive training with the Winter Soldier while they just watched.

I'd like to see the lot of you fight him and manage to not get killed.

One of the medics went over to my side and helped me up. The Winter Soldier stepped aside and watched me with disdainful eyes. I knew I disappointed him. That alone could have fucked up my assessment. How did I not see it coming? How did I miscalculate that movement?

The Commander leaned in to talk to him as he watched me limp away. I made eye contact with both of them. The Commander's lips were moving but I couldn't make out a word of what he was saying.

Through pain-ridden eyes and a half-delirious mind, I could almost make sense of what the conversation was about.

Girl...Mission...Out...Threat.

Next thing I know, I was being treated by Dr. Nolan in the Medical Room. I don't think I processed anything yet. My brain felt numb. My eyes were glued to the knife — now on a metal tray — that I failed to dodge.

My mind flickered through all the different scenarios that I could have went with. I was beyond frustrated with myself and with my complete and utter failure. What were they going to do with me now? They couldn't really kill me...could they?

My mind reeled back to the conversation I saw that the Soldier and the Commander had earlier. What were they talking about? Did they finally decide what to do with me? The defective agent?

I wasn't perfect. I tried to be, but I wasn't. Somehow I always found myself disagreeing with their rules and their missions, even if I carried them out anyway. Although, sometimes I couldn't help but protest. I had to. Even if the consequences would hurt me. If they knew that I'd gone against more than just a few of their regulations, there's no doubt I'd be dead within the minute.

Footsteps came through the corridor, yet I didn't even think to look up.

"Your mission." The familiar faded black of a case file was thrown into my lap carelessly, the papers crinkling in protest as it landed. I looked up to see an annoyed expression that was attached to the face of one of the high-ranking agents.

"Mission? I thought I failed the assessment." My thumbs flicked through the papers almost automatically, scanning through the details quickly. I didn't miss the red stamp on the front. This wasn't just any mission.

He–David, I think–shrugged, "The Commander asked me to hand this to you. You're leaving in an hour."

"What?"

I was...thrilled and appalled at the same time. The whole point of the assessment was for them to see that I was worthy enough to be placed on important missions like these. If they trusted me with it, that means I succeeded.

"In an hour?" Dr. Nolan chipped in. "She hasn't fully recovered from her stab wound yet. You need at least two to three weeks of rest."

The red star-shaped stamp looked even more brighter in that moment, even if the room was poorly lit. "I've had worse. I can survive a limp."

"You won't even be able to walk." He raised an eyebrow at me in disagreement. Somewhere deep down, I knew I should listen to him. I wasn't in the best shape for a fight, let alone a mission like this one.

David huffed, "Orders are orders."

Then my brain clicked back into place. David was right. I nodded once. "I'll be at the hangar in 30 minutes."

"You better gear up by then. They wont wait up for you."

Dr. Nolan sighed and shook his head before wrapping my leg up with bandage. "Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."

———

Snow was blowing in my face. The cold seeped through my coat, prickling my skin like tiny little needles made of ice.

"Any minute now." He spoke through the earpiece.

We were supposed to ambush a S.H.I.E.L.D operation that was a threat to Hydra. I wasn't entirely sure why I was sent along with the Winter Soldier, but I wasn't in the place to argue. Not when I just barely survived the assessment.

"Get in position." I crouched down, trying to smother a whimper that threatened to escape my throat. My calf was burning, but that wasn't a priority right now. Everything was always burning somehow, and I learned to ignore it overtime. I scanned the area through the scope of my sniper rifle. As soon as a car came into view, I steadied my hand on the trigger.

"Now."

Four continuous shots for each tire. Every single one blew out and the car spun out of control, spinning from left to right. It was a narrow road, the plan was bound to work to our liking. After a few nasty turns, the car swerved off the cliff, leaving nothing but dust and debris in it's place.

"They're not dead yet. Keep an eye out."

It was quicker than I expected, but I spotted two figures climbing out of the wreck after a while. Their movements were slow and staggered, but alive nonetheless.

"Target acquired."

I watched through the scope as he stepped out of his position in the shadows. One of the figures moved in front of the other, shielding them with their own body. I knew it was useless. He'd kill them both anyway.

A single shot rang out. I could picture the bullet going through one body to the other. They both dropped to the ground, dead.

"Target eliminated."

"Roger."

He didn't say a word. I didn't hear the usual rustle of his movements through the earpiece. Silence engulfed me. Usually, I wouldn't be so unnerved. He was always silent. But this time it felt...strange. I stayed where I was, unmoving. Something in my head told me I shouldn't move, shouldn't speak.

It seemed too easy.

I don't know what it was, but I didn't take my eyes off him. Something about this whole thing seemed...off. He could have completed this mission alone.

Why did they ask me to go with him?

He turned away from the bodies and faced me. I gulped, hands trembling as I held my rifle reluctantly. What was he doing?

"Sir?" I managed to say. Everything was telling me to RUN. NOW.

Slowly, he raised his gun and pointed it towards me.

Girl...Mission...Out...Threat.

My whole body trembled at the sight before me.

"Take the girl on your next mission. I need you to take her out. She's a threat to us, soldier. She's defective. Eliminate her. "

I was right.

Bang! The sound of a gunshot snapped me back to reality. It was real. They wanted to kill me. The Winter Soldier was standing ten feet away from me with a gun in his hand, ready to kill. To eliminate the threat.

Out of reflex, I pulled the trigger of my rifle that was pointed to his head, only to find it empty.

Four bullets. They only gave me four bullets and nothing more.

Without thinking, I ran. I dropped the rifle and ran as fast as my legs could take me. I heard another gunshot, closer this time. That's when I started to feel a strange sort of stinging at the back of my leg. The pressure felt strenuous as I continued to sprint in the snow.

Oh, God...Dr. Nolan was right.

I could feel the pain taking over once more as my stitches started to pop. Warm, thick liquid ran down my leg and seeped through the pants of my uniform as the wound on my calf bled out. Between the stinging cold and the stinging pain, I was starting to feel hopeless. I couldn't possibly go against him.

Bang!

Closer this time. I was running blindly into a vast, wide-open landscape of infinite snow. Not only that, but I was also leaving behind a trail of blood behind me. Deep scarlet upon stark white. What a contrast. Was this Hansel and Gretel or some shit?

"You cannot run forever." His voice was crisp, threatening. I couldn't take the fear that ran cold through me. If I stopped running now, I wouldn't ever get up again. He was the embodiment of fear, and he was chasing me.

I tore off my earpiece and threw it behind me. How could I have been so foolish today? Of course they sent him out here to kill me.

All along I thought I was playing the part perfectly. But, maybe I didn't hide my doubts of Hydra as well as I thought I had. Did they find out about everything I've failed to do?

How could I have killed those innocent children? How could I have murdered that innocent family? Or that innocent man who just so happened to stumble across a Hydra operation?

I was fine with the blood and the gore. I was used to that. The only thing that never sat right with me was when the innocent had to be slaughtered. The first time I went through with it, they haunted my dreams. Their animalistic cries for mercy, their howls of pain...I couldn't live with myself.

They were right. I was defective. I didn't have the makings of a Hydra agent. I wasn't as ruthless as I should be.

I ran and ran, hoping that he was far behind me. The snow was getting thicker by the minute, it was getting harder for me to see and to navigate.

I ran until my aching feet hit the pavement of a road that led to a small village. It looked homely, with houses and shops lined up along the road. Lanterns hung from roof to roof, providing light in the heavy snowfall. If I didn't know any better, I'd try to hide there. But I knew he would only tear it apart and kill everyone on sight just to eliminate me.

Then I sensed footsteps behind me. There was no time to think. It was my only option.

I sneaked through the worn paths of the area, trying my best to lay low. It didn't help that I was sporting a mean limp and bleeding all over the place. People saw me and they avoided me. I started to wonder why I thought heading here would help me. I scanned the area for anything, anything that would help. A weapon, a car, a spot that I could take shelter in...

Then, out of nowhere, I bumped into a woman.

"Oh!"

I held onto her arms as I tried to keep us both from falling. The woman was wearing a niqab. Her piercing green eyes looked right at me, distracting me from my original plan for a moment.

"Are you alright?" She asked, gently.

I must have looked horrible. Sweaty and bloody with panicked eyes. I didn't notice that her arms were still locked on mine, keeping me upright.

That's when I felt it, the surge of energy suddenly coursing through me. It was a peculiar sensation, but I welcomed it. Her green eyes widened. I knew she felt it too.

"You're-" she gasped, trying to pull away from me. I held onto her tighter, not wanting to let go just yet.

"Please." I begged. "It won't hurt."

I had to go before he came.

I heard gunshots behind me. I couldn't let him get to me, not when I just found the key to my escape.

"Who are you?" The woman whispered, struggling against me.

"Someone you’ll help escape death." I looked into her eyes, trying to let her see how desperate I was. I didn't want to take anything else from her but this.

Her eyes jumped from mine to behind me, before flickering back to look at me again. "You're like me, aren't you?"

"You don't need to do anything." I assured her. "I just need to leave."

It took a second of hesitation for her, but slowly, she nodded. She opened her mouth to say something, but I never heard what it was. Because that's when the screaming erupted.

I closed my eyes and teleported myself the fuck out of there.

#run pietro x reader #enemies to lovers #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #avengers reader insert #marvel reader insert #mcu #mcu x reader #pietro x y/n #the winter soldier #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #james barnes #hydra mcu #winter soldier x reader

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officalaizawa003 · 3 years

Text

The battle ended quickly when all the villains fled from endevor. Well execpt aizawa, who was about to beat him with his new quirk. Movement. I know it sounds weird but heres what it means: Aizawa can basically pull an uravity sorta thing by making things weightless and rarely float. But he can also move things really easily. For example, Endevor's now broken leg. He just has to imaigne touching or grabbing it.

"GOD DAMN IT MY LEG!"

"aw is the pro hero hurt?~ Does the hero have a boo boo?"~

"COVER YOUR NOSE AND MOUTH" came a voice from behind. Endevor shut his eyes, mouth, and nose. Aizawa on the other hand was about to stab endevor until...

Aizawa was out like a light. The smoke cleared quickly and when it did Endevor made his escape. The other heros came back from chasing the villains with not a single one of them captured. They all saw endevor hurt and called some medics to the seen. Mic stood above aizawa, trying to keep it together. This is what his husband had come to. But it wasnt Aizawa's fault, it was his. At least in his mind it was. Nezu finished talking to the police and the police but some sort of choker on him that was clearly a little tight on his neck. They cuffed him and drove off with him. "Wait nezu! Their not gonna take him to jail...are they?"

"No present mic. They found some pills that aizawa dropped called memory pills. They've never seen pills like it before so their taking it for testing. As for aizawa, they have left him in our custody until they find what the pills are for and get the paperwork done. They're taking him to UA where they will keep him in solatarity confindment until we get there."

Mic sighed a sigh of relief. Now they had to figure out what was going on. Mic rushed to UA, where aizawa was being healed by recovery girl. He was awake. Struggling out of the cuffs that held him. These werent regualar cuffs. These cuffs were made of tungstun. Made for the biggest and baddest of villains. And the choker was a quirk remover, which would take away his quirk until he got the cuffs off with a special key.

"Please sit down aizawa! If I could just heal your wounds-"

"Shut up grandma! My gang will be here and we'll put you in the grave early so just sit tight! I'll get these cuffs off."

"Dear thats not very nice. But since this isnt your fault I wont hit you." RG looked up, "Mic! Would you please be a dear and talk to him?"

Mic let his hair down, already knowing this wouldnt be easy. "Yeah I'll give it a go. Mic took off his jacket, left with only his white shirt and tight black jeans. He walked in front of aizawa and squatted down to match his eyes. Their eyes met and the villian stopped struggling. Why did he stop?! He didnt want to stop? Was this his quirk?

"Hey sho, you probably dont remember me but Im your best friend. I just need you to stay still okay? I promise Recovery Girl is nice and will help you." Mic reached out his hand to touch aizawa's check. Aizawa flinched. This hero's voice is so soothing, and his eyes. I feel like I can stare into his eyes forever...Wait what am I thinking?! Hes a hero! Hes the reason that I....wait where are they?

"Where are my pills? Where are they! I need to take them everyday!"

"Your pills are just gone temporarily. You'll get them back. But can you please stay still?"

Aizawa looked at Recovery Girl, who was holding a glass of water and a few pills. She had another table that had at least 2 needles filled with some liquids. That didnt seem trust worthy at all. Then he realized her size and age. She didnt seem too dangerous.

"Okay....I'll stay still. But just know I could still kill you both!" Aizawa took the pills and even though he flinched a bit when the needles got close, he took the shots too. Things were going smoothly. But for how long?

#eraserhead #aizawa shouta #erasermic #present mic #yamada hizashi #recovery girl #mha #endevour #midnight mha #principal nezu #villian arc?#erasermic angst #angst mha #kinda angsty

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thesetrashimagines · 4 years

Text

The Man

A Peaky Blinders imagine (reader insert)

Warnings: fighting, blood, bullet wounds, swearing, murder.

GIF is not mine!

Summary: Accidentally busting into a bar while trying to finish a job may not have been the smartest idea.

Pt.2

You knew they were on your trail, it was part of the plan. And it was going perfectly. What you didn't expect was for one them to be in a car, driving straight for you. Thinking fast you looked for some kind of cover. Seeing a pair double doors, you made a run for them and honestly in the moment you weren't thinking about who or what was on the other side.

Throwing the doors open and slamming them behind you, you rushed to the side and waited for the shadowy figures belonging to your targets to enter. It didn't take long which you were greatful for, means that you would get to go home sooner, the group of 3 men walked into the bar. Being behind them gave you an advantage, pulling out some piano wire you threw yourself onto the back of one them. He wasn't able to get his fingers underneath the wire making his death come quickly. The other two men turned around to the sounds of their partner yelling and as soon as the body hit the floor they pounced.

Ducking down from most their collective swings, you scrambled towards one of the tables, there was a bottle on it. Picking it up you turned and saw the bigger man of the two come towards you. Spinnig the bottle in your hand, you rose your brows and gestured your arms out in a 'come on and get me' kind of way. The man barrelled forward and threw a hard punch, hitting you in jaw, you staggered to the side and swung the bottle right onto the back of his bald head, he stumbled before you pulled the back of his collar exposing his chest where you plunged the broken end of the bottle into his right breast. You turned the two of you around and faced the other man, his eyes widened at the scene in front of him. Taking his moment of stun, you pushed the bald man forward into the arms of the smaller man, knocking him over with a loud thud as he hit the floor, this action obvisously drove the broken bottle further into the bald man which caused him to cry out in pain.

Neither man can move now, the smaller man started babbling while the bald one was crying. Pulling out the knife from your shoe you waltzed over to the stacked bodies. "We all know why this is your fate," Spitting out blood you continued, "stop making so much fucking noise."

Leaning over them you stabbed the knife into the smaller man's neck before grabbing the bald man's hand and telling him to hold it there, he was trying to fight agaisnt you but you could tell that he was getting weaker with every shift he made. "The more you move the more you bleed." He stopped moving, "You wont die from that bottle unless I want you to." The man started crying again. Grabbing one of the chairs closest to you, you sat down. "You throw a good punch by the way." His hand slipped off the knife's slick handle. "What did I say to do?" He finally tried to speak.

"Please let me go......how was I suppose to know?" Standing with a sigh you walked back over to the man and gently placed your hands on his neck. "Don't lie, you always knew." Snapping his neck quickly and straightening back up, you finally glanced around the room to assess the damage. 1 broken bottle, and some blood. 'Not too bad', you think to yourself. Turning back around to your chair you started to push it back in when the back door opened and footsteps caught your attention.

"The fuck happened here!?" A man with a mustache started yelling. "Buisness." Glancing up as you answered you noticed there was 4 of them. The man with the mustache, another with a cap on, the third had a ciggarette hanging out of mouth, and the last one had a baby face. With the adrenaline running out you started to feel the pain, looking down you saw your shirt soaked in blood. "Fuck...," looking back to the gaggle of men, who were still glaring at you, 3 of them even pulled out guns. "Look I'll pay for the bottle and the labour for the blood, I apologise for the mess too. Are you lot gonna tell the police?" Now their expressions changed looking st you as if you had multiple heads. "Police!? We're the fucking peaky blinders!" The man with the mustache yelled at you, cocking his gun, "and who the fuck are you!?"

"Nobody." Turning yourself toward the door, "The money will be here by first light." Hearing the other men cocking their guns you stopped and stared at the door in front of you, a different voice spoke out. "It is already first light, its actually 5 in the morning. We were told by some of our men that a group broke in here and were stupid enough to leave their car outside." Closing your eyes you sighed, 'well there goes my ride', you thought to yourself again. The men began talking to you again but you were thinking about how you were going to be leaving, 'Maybe I can still take the car, worst they could've done is fuck with the engine.' Smiling to yourself you turned back to the men.

"Look gentlemen, I dont know who the peaky blinders are. Never heard of you lot sadly, as for me don't worry about it. I'm just another man walking the streets, well not these ones but..." You looked back down and noticed another blood spot was slowly getting bigger, " I've got to get going now, I already got a few bullets in me so if you'll excuse me, you'll find me in the hospitial."

With that you turned and dashed through the door as bullets went flying around you for the 2nd time today It's something you've gotten used to over the years. With every step you took, the pain spiked. Gritting your teeth you hopped into the car and started it. The machine shook alive and you let out a little laugh.The men were now rushing out the door and aiming at the car, stepping on the gas you bolted down the road. Nothing was more exciting then driving a fast car.

"The fucker's getting away!" Arthur shouted, "What do you want us to do Arthur? Chase after the car?" Michael questioned his cousin. John lowered his gun and tried catching his breath, "Did you see the bodies in there? Something don't add up, one of them had a knife in his fucking throat." Tommy walked out of the Garrison doors, "Yeah and the one on top of him has a bottle in his chest. Then there's the one by the door, he's got a mark on his neck, wire looks like." Everyone was silent, mulling over the situation. "He said he'd be at the hospital, we should send someone over there." Michael looked to Tom, taking out another cigarette. "You know Michael that isn't a bad idea, we'll send Finn and Isaiah."

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Getting back to the apartment was easy. No one was up yet, it was 5 AM at the latest, the sun was just starting to peak through the horizon. Taking off your shirt you started unwrapping the binding on your chest, taking a deep breathe would've been nice but the bullet hole in your side reminded you it was still there. Grabbing your supplies and sitting on the bed, you got to work on removing the bullet, luckly it wasn't near any important parts. Biting down on some cloth you pulled the bullet out. "Fuck ,fuck, fuck, fuck!" Tossing the stupid thing on the floor you splashed some alcohol into the wound. Feeling a little woozy you grabbed the needle and thread, 'Come on YN youère almost done.' Stitching yourself up wasn't new but your hands still shake with every pass. The slash on your arm only needed a few stitches but the awkward angle was enough to give you trouble.

Spinning around you realized there wasn't any bandages left, throwing your head back with an audible "ugh" you stood and started to throw on a new shirt, careful not to bump anything and open it back up you threw a oversized coat on and a hat.

The air was cool which was nice on your flushed cheeks, cool air was always nice after a job, espiecally one that you walked away from with new wounds. You kept your head slightly down and collar popped, hiding your face. You knew this life wasn't easy but you knew nothing else, you grew up doing this, your whole life dedicated to this and everything associated with it. Your thoughts cleared when you came up to the hospitial. In and out. Grab bandages, and leave, simple.

Walking into the hospitial you saw nurses bustling about and doctors checking boards and holding conversation with each other. Good, people were busy. Watching one of the nurses walk down the hall and enter a door that said nurses only, you set your attentions there. Everybody glanced at you but with a simple tip of the hat and a "here to see the wife and babe" nobody questioned you, babies were always being born. You could hear some of them coming into the world, the cries of life. Not like the ones you were used to too.

Entering the room some murses looked up at you and some were about to start yelling but you were quicker. "Oh I'm so sorry everyone for being late, you know how it is." Laughing gently you took off the hat and shook out your chin length hair. "Excuse me but I dont think I've ever seen around before." One nurse spoke. Looking over to her while sliping off your coat, "Oh well pardon me, I'm Leanna. I've been sent over for a few days with a patient before we go back home, I'm his personal nurse." Most of the nurses ignored you and left to get on with work you presumed. "Which patient?" You went behind a curtain and changed into a nurses uniform, "Mr.Smith." You replied, Smith was a rather common name anywhere you went in Britain so it was a safe name to throw around. "Smith? I don't think I've heard of him sorry." Stepping out fully dressed you gave her a gently smile "It's quite alright we won't be here long. it was nice meeting you but I have to get going Mr.Smith gets upset when he doesn't recognize where he is." With that you left and walked the halls.

While looking for the supply closet you saw 2 boys dressed very similarly to the men from the pub walk in, you could hear them ask doctors and nurses of they've had a man in with bullet wounds. Of course they said no. But now there was a problem, while walking towards another section of the hospitial these two boys bumped into you, knocking you to the ground, and you felt a pop. Quickly standing back up, you ignored the hands trying to help you up. "Miss! Sorry! We weren't looking where we were going, you know we're trying to look for someone. Maybe you've seen them? A man who was shot-" "shot in the side." Tying your cardigan around your waist you looked up at the boys. One was lean, had freckles and curly hair, the other was a little more built (he did knock you down), smooth skin, and had dark hair. "It's alright, no I havent seen a man, now please excuse me." Keeping things short, you left and found the supplies closet.

You dressed your own wounds and stuck the rest of the bandages into the bust of the dress. Shifting the bust of the dress around you gave yourself the okay and left the closet. The boys were still in the same spot but now babyface and the cap wearing man had joined them. 'Shit.' Holding your head down you passed them again. " *whisle* thats one pretty girlie, oi nurse!" The capped man was catcalling you.....honestly could've be worse. Walking faster you made it back to the lockers, changing was nice until you noticed the smallest blood stain on the dress, "Oh for fucks sake." You held the dress in the crook of your elbow, now standing in the nurses locker room, dressed in mens clothing with coat pockets full of bandages and other supplies, holding a nures's dress, to make it even better a nurse walked in and was staring at you with wide eyes. 'fuck'

"Look miss my girl works here and she asked me to throw her uniform in the laundry here, you see there's some blood on it and she's in the bathroom right now, the blood it makes her dizzy, I-I I'll leave, oh Lord this is embarrassing." Lying came easy, sometimes you enjoyed it, every word created a story and here you were acting in it, you found it funny. 'No! No! It's quite alright you're just trying to be a good husband here lemme take it for you, you go see how she is alright." The nurse came over placing a hand on your arm and grabbed the uniform. "Thank you miss" You gave her a smile and left the room swiftly.

Leaving the hospitial was suppose to be as easy as getting into it but the tiny detail you forgot about was now you were in the same building as those men from the pub. Wanting to face plant into the ground and wanting to let put the biggest groan, you kept silent and your head on a swivel. Looking around every corner and down every hallway. Alas your efforts were futile when you rounded a corner and bumped into the same chest as earlier. You landed on the ground again and quickly pulled your hat down to cover the majority of your face. "Oi watch where your going." You nodded and stood up making sure not to make eye contact, side stepping around them you carried on your way when you heard, "Isaiah thats him!" Upon those words you ran, 'so much goddamn running.'

You weren't far from the entrance when some men stepped in front of the hospitals doors, wearing those stupid hats, 'you've got to be fucking kidding me'. Looking around you noticed a open window, you slowed down to a halt and stared at the men at the door, they slowky walked forward and you could hear the shoes hitting the floor in chase behind you. Throwing a smirk at the two at the door you dashed to the window and used your arms to send yourself out of it legs first. Sticking the landing you stood up and glanced into an alleyway and decided to take it, you could still hear the men running after you. Looking up at the walls around you, specifically at the windows again and these were barred. Perfect. Stopping in front of one you noticed how high it was, your arms weren't gonna be long enough. The slapping of shoes filled the alleyway, making up your mind in that moment, you decided on a run and jump. The first attempt didnt work, at all.

By now when you started the second attempt the men could see you easly scale the windows, then the fire escape, then they watched you jump onto the roof and disappear. "Now who in the fuck does that?" Isaiah looked back at the group of men. All of them were out of breath. "Yeah who the fuck is he? Why's he so important?" Finn looked at his older brother, "He broke into The Garrison and killed 3 blokes" John answered. Finn looked to the roof and laughed. "Fucking hell."

The group started their journey back to the betting shop but what they didn't know was that they were being followed by the 'man' on the roof. Granted jumping from roof to roof only worked so far before you had to get down, you watched them enter a building and recognized the area around you, it wasn't too far from the apartment, letting out a sigh you walked back 'home'. How were you going to leave this place now? Taking everything off you started yourself a bath. Seeing your reflection was weird, you were so used to being seen as a man by the outside world that when you did see the feminine parts of you it was like a surprise, a nice surprise cause you knew you were one badass lady. Taking off the bandage made you huff in annoyance, getting knocked over causing your stitches to pop open and then all that running and climbing, all that hard work just to be back at square one. Walking to your room you redid the stitches, not as shaky this time, then climbed into the bath.

It's at moments like these where you wished you had your beloved record player with you. Music is always able to help you calm down. You could say music was your only weakness.

You lounged there wondering when you should drop off that money, would they even want it? They didn't seem to enthustiastic about your offer. Whatever you promised, maybe you could deliver the new bottle...nope, knock and run away? Yeah that sounds alright.

The water was getting cold so you stood up and wrapped yourself in a towel and made your way to your room to grab the bandages from your coat after dressing yourself you noticed there was a whole in your coat, 'the windows', letting out another sigh you grabbed some wide cloth and binded your chest, then grabbed a shirt, trousers, your hat, and some cash, then headed to the nearest store to buy a bottle of whatever you could find. Seeing as your coat had a hole in it you couldn't help but stick your hand in and out of it as you walked, you even pulled at the frayed edges before you mentally yelled at yourself saying that you're only gonna make it worse. Shoving your hands into the pockets you walked into the first store, it looked like a general store, had a little bit of everything. Looking around the shelves you noticed they had a very small liqour selection and guessing by the dust on some of the bottles, they weren't very popular. You saw an older man with a white beard and mustache behind the counter, "Excuse me sir, what kind of drink is this?" Throwing a gesture towards the shelf with your head the man looked to the side at the bottles.

"You want to buy them?" He looked surprised. "Yes but only if you tell me what it is." You let out a small laugh. The older man chuckled, "Yes well, the ones in the front row are whiskey but everything behind them is rum." Rum? You haven't had rum in awhile. "I'll take two bottles of rum, the ones in the furthest back please." He turned and set them down in front of you. "Is that everything?" He asked with a raised brow, "No, do you sell coats by any chance? Or know of somewhere that does?" The older man was about to answer when a woman behind you spoke, "You can buy coats down the road now can you please hurry im in a rush." Turning towards the woman you noticed the short haircut, to the chin like yours, her eyes were a bright blue and she wore red lipstick, she was also wearing a fur coat. Once your gaze went back up to her face, she had a mischievous look on her face. "Are you finished? Thats a rather large hole in your coat, what happened?" Laughing to yourself, you turned back towards the man and placed 2 bills down. "keep the change." With that you left and hearing the older man yelling thank you as you left, put a smile on your face. You enjoyed making people happy.

The store selling coats was crowded, people were everywhere in there, some were customers, and others were employess with tape measures around their necks. A woman walked up to you when you steped through the door. "Hello! How may I help you?" You locked eyes with her and gave her your most charming smile, "I'm looking for a coat, mines got a hole in it." Showing her the whole she gasped. "My thats a rather large rip, well if you could follow me I can show you some im sure you'll like." She gently wrapped her arm around yours and took off down the racks of coats before stopping in front of a section with many black and navy coats. "So here we have some coats that match the colour and wear as the one you have on now." Going through a few you noticed one a little further down the racks. "What about this one?" Pulling out the dark forest green jacket, you turned to her and smiled, "Can I try this one on?" She stared at you for a moment.

"Yes of course you can sir though I do have to warn you it is one of our more expensive pieces." Taking off the jacket you had on and giving it to the lady, you swung the green fabric over your shoulders, your arm protested but you masked the pain. You looked over yourself and you were quite happy with how it looked on you. "I quite like it, miss I think I'll take this one." The woman started speaking fast, "but sir that jacket is very expensive, yes you look very handsome in it but-!" You walked over to her and grabbed her hands, "It's alright, but now I have to get it if I look so handsome in it." Winking at her, you let go of her hands and grabbed your old coat, pulling out some money. "Is this enough?" She glanced at the money in your hands and grabbed the bills, she refiled through them then handed back 2 bills. "There its yours." She smiled at you with flushed cheeks. Smiling back, you placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly, "thank you miss, have nice day." Her face got brighter as you walked away, you wished she kept the old coat but you needed to get the bottle of rum to the building before sundown.

You saw the woman from earlier walk out of another shop in front of you. Her arms carrying a box and a bag on top of it. You could hear the clicking of her heelings against the pavement, she was walking with purpose you decided, guess she was telling the truth about being in a hurry. Then you noticed the men, the men in caps,'they're everywhere'. The woman noticed them too. "If you're just gonna watch me all day atleast be helpful and bring this back to the house." She placed the box and bag into the arms of one of the men and kept on walking before entering a car.

You watched the car leave and felt jealous but kept on with your travel on foot. You walked towards your street and on the way you saw a small girl running in nothing but a dress. Watching with careful eyes you examined the path the girl was running in and saw a pump in the road, almost as you were about to call out she tripped and fell. Rushing over, you picked her up and sat her on your knee and brushed off her legs and arms of the gravel stuck to them. She had her face tucked into your neck as she cried, getting you wet with her tears. "Hey you're alright now, I've gotcha." You gently brushed the dirty and gravel off her injured knee. "Nothing more than a little scrape aye?" She looked down at her knee and sniffled, "It hurts." Rubbing her back you replied, "I know darling but you're a strong girl. You look tough now and once this little scrape heals you'll be good as new." She studied the side of your face as you were checking the rest of her legs for scrapes.

"You've got long hair mr." She was gently pulling on the strands poking out from under your hat, "It looks pretty." She giggled as the hair sprung back into place. "Why thank you, I must admit I only ever want my hair to look pretty." You wrapped your large coat over her small frame and tied the long ends in a knot. "There you can have my coat, now I know there's a hole in it but you can throw it when you get home, it's just something to keep you warm yeah?" She looked at you with big eyes "Yea!" "Now watch where you run." She nodded, hugged you and ran away. The sleeves of the coat covering her hands.

Laughing you turned back and continued the walk. When you finally reached your street you saw the car the woman left in, 'curiouser and curiouser', the car was parked in front of your rums destination. Standing next to the car you gently leaned against it and began to come up with your 'escape' plan. "So after almost a day of my men trying to find you, you end up on my door step." Spinning your head towards the alley and the voice, you made eye contact with the man from the pub, and just like when you first saw him, he was smoking. Looking back to the door you answered, "I was just going to leave the bottle and money and be on my mary way." You heard in let out a airy laugh. "Mary way? I didn't peg you as the type of man to go about things maryly especially after what I saw you do to those 3 in the bar." Looking up at the sky you sighed.

Still sitting on the car you tilted your upper half and placed one of the bottles of rum on the top of the car, then you held up some cash and placed the bottle on top of the pile. Holding up your own bottle of rum and stepped off the car, "I'll be on my mary way." Throwing him a small smile you walked past him. "This rum?" You spun back around to him and opened your bottle. "Yep." You gave the bottle a swig and let out a hum. "It's pretty good too." You tipped the bottle towards him, "Cheers." You spun back around and walked towards your aprtment.

Watching you walk to the apartments at the end of lane Tommy smirked and grabbed the rum. He opened the bottle and gave it a sniff and quickly scowled at it. He put the top back on the bottle and counted the money, eyes shooting up to your apartment again. Where the hell did you get this type of money?

"You alright Tom?" Turning towards his sister he placed the bottle of rum in her hand, "I'm fine Ada." Recognizing the bottle, Ada made eye contact with her brother. "Where'd you get this from?" Tom looked at the bottle then back at his sister, "why?" Ada shook her head. "It nothing I just saw a man earlier today buying a few bottles," she let out a laugh, "he was asking where to buy a new coat cause his had this giant tear in his." Thomas glanced down the lane again to the apartment building he watched you enter earlier.

"A man eh?"

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Aaaahhh it's been forever since I last wrote anything, truly am sorry, but! I have been craving to write for peaky blinders again (I honestly love that show and its universe) I had loads of fun writing this and I actually know where I want this story to go so please let me know if you want a part 2 or maybe I'll write a part 2 anyways cause I have many plans for it. Anyways enough of my rambling, I really hope you enjoyed this and thank you so much for reading! <3

#Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #x reader #tommy shelby x reader #ada thorne x reader #finn shelby x reader #michael gray x reader #john shelby x reader #arthur shelby x ready #reader insert

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emptysurface · 3 years

Note

I think it's morning for you? Good morning! I wrote this instead of my coursework, so there probably wont be any more for a while as the semester kickstarts into gear but I wanted to at least finish this scene. Took bits from HTS canon again, and the part at the end from Young but Bloodied, with a few minor changes to let it flow better.

Arriving at the hospital felt surreal.

It was bright and noisy and there were people everywhere, and such a juxtaposition of the last few hours that Kyo stood frozen at the entrance for a long moment, slightly swaying where she stood till Kisaki tentatively licked her hand.

“You good, kid?” the ANBU who had carried her over asked, glancing over her.

Kyo nodded numbly, sending a brief glance over to her team. They were pale figures on the white beds, unmoving, and she had to stumble over to check each of their pulses again before she could breathe. Then she stood there between Taku and Maki’s bed, her and Kisaki leaning on each other.

The ANBU captain had dismissed the rest of his team, but the one who had carried Kyo remained, standing at the corner and away from the rush of people, while the captain barked orders. Kyo glanced over at what she had already begun to think of as her ANBU, and the figure gave her a brief nod meant to be reassuring.

She let out a shaky breath and pressed closer to Kisaki.

Someone neared Sensei and made to check him over, and Kisaki bared her teeth with a wild, uncontrolled roar of a growl, snapping after the nurse or medic or whatever they were.

Kyo lurched forward half a step before forcing herself to settle down. “No,” she said firmly, trying to place her hand on the ninken's head but missing and ending up slapping her ear. “Stop it,” she added. “They're helping.”

Kisaki huffed, gave the hospital staff a dark, warning glower with her teeth bared, before she whined sadly and pressed her face into Kyo's stomach.

In the electric light of the hospital room they'd somehow ended up in -Kyo couldn't quite remember getting there- she noticed the dried blood staining Kisaki's fur a rusty brown from her mouth down the front of her chest in stiff, sticky spikes. There was a lot of dirt, too.

It distantly made her wonder what she herself looked like.

She idly watched the frantic medics work on Katsurou right there in the middle of the room, too tired to so much as find a place to sit and not wanting to leave her team.

“Genin,” a sharp, no-nonsense voice said, managing to pull Kyo's gaze away from the bed-stretcher-thing sensei was laid out on, and the medics hovering around him like angry bees. There were medics around Taku and Maki too, now. “Report.”

Kyo took in the sight of the stern-faced man with greying dark-blond hair entirely different from sensei's before her, trying to make her mind kick back into gear.

The fingers of her left hand curled into Kisaki's fur as she took in a deep breath and shook her head slightly.

“Back from a courier run to the southern Kawa border,” she managed after a beat of stretching silence.

“And the scrolls?” The Jounin asked, his dark eyes assessing her, taking in every detail and it made her wonder what it was he saw.

“Got them,” Kyo returned.

“Uncompromised?” The Jounin pressed impatiently, frowning at her.

Kyo rationally knew this was very important. The border stations were manned by and home base to dozens of people at all times, and it was vital for Konoha's defences that their enemies didn't get the information moving back and forth between them and command.

“Yeah,” she managed, blinking blankly at the Jounin.

“Will you give them to me?” The Jounin asked.

At this, Kyo paused hesitantly, glancing over at her ANBU. Wasn't she supposed to leave them at the appropriate desk in the Hokage tower? Was it ok to give the scrolls to this jounin?

Her ANBU nodded, so Kyo turned back to the jounin. “Okay,” she mumbled, and reached for her pack.

It was pretty tricky to get them out of her poison pack with just her left hand, though it probably had more to do with how exhausted she was. When she withdrew the first one, a needle came along with it, having stabbed into her ring-finger and gotten stuck in her skin.

Kyo absently brought her hand up to her mouth, pulled the needle out with her teeth and then handed the first scroll over. Followed by the remaining four.

“Do you want these as well?” She asked numbly, needle dangling from her lips, pulling the first of the black and red sealing scrolls from one of her pockets.

Kyo was pretty out of it, but she did notice when the Jounin and the ANBU both focused the full scope of their attentions on her, at the same time. The part of her brain that had been filled with nothing but survive, survive, survive kicked back on with vengeance and her body stuttered but flooded with adrenaline.

It was enough to make her tense, prompting Kisaki to let out a soft, warning growl in response.

“...how many have you got?” The Jounin asked.

She wasn't clear-headed enough to actually count right now, so Kyo just held out the first one until the Jounin took it. She slowly pulled the rest of them from the various pockets she'd stored them in.

“Five,” she managed once she'd already handed all of them over. It was a bit belated, because the Jounin had no doubt already counted them himself, but Kyo still answered his question. “They're from Suna,” she added, because that felt like it might be important.

Maybe.

Oh. The poison.

She quickly picked out one particular jar of poison and handed it to the jonin. “This was the poison they used,” she informed him solemnly.

The jounin turned his gaze back on her, but Kyo’s attention was caught by the fact that the medics were starting to wheel Katsurou-sensei and her teammates away, and to different doors. Rationally, she knew they were probably being wheeled away to receive better treatment, but the part of her that had been focused on keeping all of them together and alive, that said if she didn’t keep an eye on them they would die, gave a low snarl, and she lunged forward in a desperate attempt to keep them together. “No!”

She didn’t even manage to get a full step before being caught by the jonin. “Stand down, genin!” he barked.

“No!” Kyo cried, struggling against his arms desperately.

“Shit,” she heard him say, and there was a small moment his grip eased. Kyo took the opportunity and stabbed down with a senbon, not managing to hit the man but succeeding in him letting go.

Kisaki’s snarl was a low, angry thing – a promise of danger as she released the man’s leg and backed up to stand against her.

“Genin,” the man barked. “You’re safe. You’re in Konoha.”

Out of the corner of her eye, a flicker, and Kyo couldn’t turn in time and—

Kisaki took the needle with a pained yelp, and her paws skittering over the floor unsteadily, and Kyo’s heart stopped. Another movement at the corner of her sight, and this time Kyo turned to throw a senbon with no hesitation, watching in fear as the man dodged.

When did the enemy nin find them? How were they able to sneak up on them? Kisaki was hit. They were trying to take away Taku and Maki and Sensei, and Kyo felt really, really scared.

Pulling her chakra in was a simple matter, as she went full stealth.

Something was wrong.

There were nin all around her, watching her and Kisaki with wary eyes, and Kyo scrambled to put them against a wall, Kisaki behind her.

She couldn’t hear Kisaki anymore.

Was Kisaki dea—

No.

One of the figures darted to her, avoiding her thrown senbon, and pinning her arms to her side. They were saying something, but Kyo didn’t hear a word, because they were the enemy and taking sensei and Taku and Maki away and what if they died? What if they- she didn’t know!

Her throat hurt and some part of her was distantly aware of the fact she was screaming absolute murder, but she didn’t care, and these people were hurting her.

It hurt, it hurt, she didn’t want them to touch her anymore, why were they keeping her from her team? Where were they taking them?

There was some sort of commotion in the room with them, but Kyo couldn’t focus on that, had trouble focusing on anything other than herself and everything in her immediate proximity. Like the man struggling to hold on to her, and he was breathing hard and cursing under his breath, she was sure, but that wasn’t important.

She kept struggling until she couldn’t breathe and her vision was more dark, floating spots than anything else and she could taste blood on her tongue.

It was getting difficult to move, and Kyo was pretty sure her body was shutting down or something, she hurt so much she was sobbing.

Or maybe that was because she was scared.

Or because she could no longer see her team.

“Please,” she could hear herself beg, but it sounded far away and half sobbing.

The shinobi was still holding onto her when everything went dark and quiet and still.

Oooooh

#HtS #HtS AU #part 2 #Anon's writing

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keepcalm-and-beyou · 4 years

Text

Quarantine & Chill

Summary: The craziness of Corona-virus has many people taking precautions and isolating them self's, including You and Colson along with friends. What was suppose to be a Chill night turns into a typical Colson and Pete time.

“Hey look who’s up from there nap” Pete exclaims as he sees you entering the living room.

“yes my very short nap due to the fact of you loud asses” you sass back with a playful eye roll.

“duuude told you to keep it down” Colson jokingly scolds Pete.

“babe you are no better then he is, you two together is like listening to a bunch of Hyenas” you chuckle.

You notice a few beer cans around the living room, some on the main table in front of the couch some on the end tables be side the couch. “really guys drinking its like 2pm”

“Y/n time doesn't exist in quarantine” Pete says to and takes a big gulp from his beer after swallowing the liquid gives you a cheesy grin.

“yeah babe what we suppose to do nap” Colson laughs at his attempt to make fun of you.

“nah you guys are so right why relax and chill like i thought we were going to, instead ruining your livers is always a better choice” your voice laced with sarcasm.

“exactly we gotta entertain our self’s” Colson smiles at you.

You shake your head at the males in the room and leave to find something to make for a late lunch. and wanting the buys to be fed if they are drinking. You settle on making sandwiches guys never complain about a girl making them a sandwich. Carrying the plates with their food on it back to where the boys still sit in the living room but there’s something different now. You place the plates down one each in front of them and eye the Tattoo machinery Colson is setting up.

“Uh is that suppose to be for more entertainment sense booze is never enough for you wild boys?” you raise an eyebrow at them. Of course you should of expected tattoos being done, the amount of times they have gotten ink on there skin while drinking is almost uncountable.

“You can go first babe!” Colson says smiling big at you. and Pete cheers agreeing with him.

“ha. you guys crack me up did you forget i’m the sober one here, you really think i’m going to let either one of you cocobananas come near me with that thing”

“okay Colson uh you hold her still ill uh pour some vodka down throat shell be good to go in uh no time” Pete smirks to his best friend.

“you touch me you die” you joke pointing a finger at the two.

as if that was a challenge the two males stood up and started to get closer to you with evil smirks. All you think to do is run as if you think they wont chase you but they do of course they do. after running around the whole house you give up. holding your hands up as a surrender.

“okay okay i’m way to out of shape for this, ill make my own damn drink” you breath heavy.

“Its Quarantini Time Ya’ll!” you cheer while walking into the living room holding a martini. it took a couple seconds for the boys to comprehend what you meant maybe it was the booze slowing their brains, once they understood they laughed at your cleverness.

“i’m going to need to down a few fast to catch up i don’t think i can handle a sober me and a drunk yous”

“chug chug chug!” they both cheer loudly. And you do as told.

“hmm okay be right back i shall be needing another” you smile and turn to walk back into the kitchen. A few more Quarantinis and you felt the liquor well enough.

Enough to be smiling, laughing, singing, dancing and enjoying your Quarantine time. Colson has started up the Tattoo gun and has been adding more ink to Pete's body, it may have been the drinks but now you want one too.You watch intently at your boyfriend tattooing Pete anticipation going through your body while waiting for it to be done.

“awesome dude” Pete compliments the tattoo as its finished.

“alight babe get your nice ass over here” Colson says with a smile as he is biting on his lower lip and holding the tattoo gun up in his hand.

“gladly” you smile strutting your nice ass over to him as ordered.

“wow really” Colson is shocked you agreed.

“finally Y/n lets you do that” Pete chuckles knowing how every time your boyfriend has wanted to give you a tattoo you were smart enough in your mind to say no and prefer from actual professionals. You take a seat on the couch in front of him and his chair he is sitting on.

“i have no clue what i want or where” you laugh in your drunken state, the other two drunks in the room laughing also in their own drunken state.

Colson grabs your right bare foot placing it onto his thigh and starts the tattoo gun up getting ready to tattoo god know whats on your foot. The booze must be working good in your favour as the tattoo wasn't hurting one bit and they say the foot is one of the most painful spots to put one. You paid no attention to the needle stabbing your skin and were drinking your beverage while chatting with Pete mostly and making him get you more drinks sense you could not get up your self to do so. The time has passed and your new tattoo courtesy of your boyfriend.

“its sooo CUTE! it reminds me of tangled awe i love Rapunzel” you gush over the tattoo definitely surprised at it thinking it would be horrible yet also not caring thanks to the martinis.

“dude sick” Pete says checking out the ink. “uh why a sun though?”.

“because my babe is bright like the sun, and brightens my life” Colson responds nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders.

“awwweee don’t make me cry i’m drunk that wont be pretty” you chuckle at your words and give your man a sloppy hug. “i love it just like i love you” you poke his nose and give him a small smile. Colson gives you chaste kiss on the lips.

“gross” Pete mumbles as a joke.

“ your gross” you joke

“rude” Pete replies

“your rude” you joke again.

With a couple more drinks in your system and theirs, you end up dancing around to the music Colson is trying to play on his guitar, Pete dancing his best while sitting on the couch. the occasional lyrics coming from all your mouths to the songs being played. and though you first thought drinking so early was ridiculous you were happy to be happy in this moment with your loving boyfriend and best friend all being safe together from the world for now.

STAY SAFE EVERYONE! WE WILL FIND THE SUN AGAIN IN THESE DARK DAYS.

#colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson x reader #colson baker x reader #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #quarantine #coronavirus #imagines #Pete Davidson #pete davidson imagine #tattoos #mgk #mgk imagine #mgk x reader

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terrminallycapricious · 3 years

Text

Gamzee: Get rid of her.

Gram was surprised he even slept for a single hour. Waking up, he didnt want to waste any time. He fed the dogs, fed the snake, fed the kitten. Got this and that done in the house, before getting ready to go to Alternia once again.

Can't be too careful, so he slips on full protective clothing. Nothing heavy, or anything. Just to cover his exposed skin enough, except his head. The sun wasn't up, that wasn't the issue, here. Though, he wishes he had some bulletproof vests or something. Oh, well. The boots are the last to go on, and he's out to the transportalizer, putting in the coordinates, and appearing in the nearest port closest to the palace.

Stepping off and making his way closer, his heart starts to race, knowing what hes going to be doing. Luckily, things don't seem horribly busy, but a few trolls keep noticing him and talking amongst themselves, pointing. The Empress may be alerted before he even goes there, not like she would hide, though. She has way too much pride to be hiding or stepping down in any way. Soon, that won't be even a thought.

Gram makes his way straight into the palace. Guards run up to him, not too many, but he is now in full focus. He shoves away guards, some he just ignores quick enough to not get hit or shot. He didn't want to wear himself down using his power already for just the guards, so hands are good enough. Some poor guards even suffer a large claw wound from him, which makes gram have to shake his hand off before entering the throneroom as quickly as possible. The clown runs straight in the large doors, kicking out the guards, punching them, tripping them, just so he can close the heavy doors and lock them. He had learned how when he was working under the Empress. So much gold on them, though. Was that reaaaaally a good idea? Anyway.

Once those are closed, there are about 6 guards in the room, and outside the other currently closed doors, and there she is, the Empress. She knows exactly who is here, she doesn't need to see him at all. She sits up a bit more, looking in the direction she hears him breathing in. "You came back?"

Gram glared at her, and spoke in a sarcastic tone. "Oh yeah, I missed ya real bad. Can't stay away."

He walked up toward her, which makes her guards stand in front of her throne. Stopping in front of them, he stares in their eyes, like needles he fries their eyes quickly with his power, just as similar to the empress, though they were easier, and they have a chance of healing. For now, they hold their faces, going to the small block in the palace through the side door, for medical emergencies. Since Gram's last incident, they thought to move all that much closer to the throneroom. The other guards step in now, though hesitant seeing what just happened, and seen others they work for get harmed by this clown. One of them steps back to where they were standing, the other comes up to Gram, then backs up again once he gives them a look.

"Thats fuckin right." he laughed.

The empress looked down in Gram's direction once again, having heard what just happened, but not bothering to step in to avoid those guards getting hurt. "Do you plan on killing me?" It was almost as if she had read his mind, maybe she did.

Gram glared again. "I don't know, how far can I get?"

Without letting her speak up, he starts up his chucklevoodoo once again. Going straight for the brain. She screams and grabs her head, and immediately kicks him down with her sharp heel. This knocks him down and makes it stop, grunting at the impact on the hard floor. Things start quickly. The other guards that were hesitating before, point their weapons at Gram. One shoots him in the same leg that he was shot in before, making the clown growl in pain. He got up, though, attacking the guard and knocking that gun out of his hand. He goes right for the guards neck, biting a chunk out of it and spitting it away. They were too in shock to bother to try to make it to the medical block, as they were bleeding out quickly.

"ANYONE ELSE WANT TO FUCKIN TRY M-"

He was cut short, not by a guard, but by the Empress, who kicked him down once again, aiming her trident right at his torso.

"You wont get very far, your friend is just going to have to come back to save you again. You already took my eyes from me, I wont let you finish the job, you filth."

Gram laughed and looks up the gold trident, and then at her face. Still with a smile, though he will admit he is afraid of getting hurt beyond repair, or at least, wont be repaired easily.

"Ya won't, 'cuz you dont know anyone else like me. I know you wanna use me for somethin, don't you? that would be a damn shame."

"You think I won't?"

"Yeah, no, that would be a bad fuckin idea."

"You haven't taken me down yet, and you wont. I can easily replace you. Goodbye, Gamzee."

He grabs her trident above the points, just right at the handle, and shoves it away, right as she stabs down toward him. This stabs into the floor, JUST right below his armpit. He lets out a goofy laugh, at just barely missing that. He rolls to the side immediately. She realizes she missed him and raises the trident toward where she can hear his footsteps.

"Havin trouble motherfucker? lemme fix that." Once again he aims his chucklevoodoo at her, with all he can put out, stronger than ever, driven by his adrenaline. She screams once again, grabbing and scratching at her own head. She tries to fight back once again which makes the pain worse, but it shoots back to gram. This makes him wince, but he doesnt stop. Not until she is down and not fighting. So much for taking her brain, hes sure it'll be like soup in there once hes done. She swings her trident and stabs wildly to get him to stop. A few times, her trident cut into his arm, his side, and one point of the trident even stabbed into his left shoulder. He grunted in pain, gritting his teeth together, but he still kept going. She finally fell after a while, unable to keep herself up from the pain. She couldn't fight back anymore, not after the damage from the first time that the others at the palace could not repair a hundred percent. The Empress did however have new bionic eyes being made, but now that won't matter.

Gram heard the other guards that were left in the room that didn't run off, coming at his back. Only two. His powers were still going hard, he looked away from the Empress only for a moment to knock those two down, which wasn't hard as they didn't expect it. Not the smartest guards you have here, Ma'am. He then turns back to her, continuing to fry her, coming toward her as he does, picking up her trident she was frantically reaching for after she fell. His eyes glowed brightly and he could feel his own eyes getting tired, his brain was wearing out. Now was a good time as any. he stepped beside her, and raised the trident high above her writhing body, and stabbed right into her heart as hard as possible, til it went all the way through and hit the hard floor. Once again she screamed, and lost her voice immediately. Clawing and grabbing at the trident, she tried pulling it out, with what life she had left. How could she let someone so easily take her down? It's all so pathetic, and embarrassing. She won the throne, she worked hard for it.

Gram pulled the trident out, and stabbed again, twice, into her mess of a heart. This finally silenced her. She writhed still a bit longer. Gram watched silently, stopping the chucklevoodoo. His new rainbow drinker DNA, was screaming hungry. This is what he's been preparing for. No time to think. He pulls the trident out, putting it in his sylladex, and drops to her freshly dead body. He bit right into her, drinking as much as his body could take. Gotta make SURE she is dead. If the other guards were still in the room, they're out now. Gram can hear them faintly panicking outside the doors, but all that's in his mind, is that she taste delicious. He goes at this for a while, until he is just about too full. Part of him comes in behind, and goes right for biting and chewing her flesh. Ripping it all to pieces, some he spits out in the bloody mess on the floor. What a messy eater.

She's unrecognizable at this point, and grams body feels like he's drunk. But his energy is high and happy. He laughed, sitting up and taking out a knife, cutting up what was left, taking bones, and putting them in the sylladex, one after another, until she looked like animals had gotten to her. He had also filled up a few bottles with the leftover blood, putting that away too. He stood up again, and by the time he did, he looked over, and there were terrified guards, and people who worked in the palace, staring at him. The news had gotten out already. He felt he had somehow intensely colorful tunnel vision toward them. But he didnt say anything to them, he just walked ahead to the side door, moving straight to where he knew the prison was. His own blood, and her blood and meat, dripping off of him. One thing he had in mind after he would be successful - Release the prisoners. He makes his way down, still having those keys he was given. What a fool Empress, never asking for those back. He took them out, and started releasing them, one by one. He didnt bother to speak, his mind was just on autopilot. He felt floaty, and he's just going to silently enjoy this til he can think clearer.

After maybe 30+ prisoners were let free, a lot less than last time due to some being sadly killed off, he scanned the area for more, then headed back up. It didn't seem like anyone was mad at Gram. Maybe scared. Some of the higher up people next to the Empress seem to have come out to the palace aswell. Gram tried to avoid them as quickly as possible. He will return soon, but for right now, no talking, just leave. He quickly finds the nearest port again, and puts in his coordinates, stepping on straight to home. He had just barely avoided those older trolls.

As soon as he was home, he laid right down on the floor in there. Just for a little while. God hes so full, and his head is spinning, not terribly though but it is. His body wants to get up and move around, do more, but it also wants to just lay here for a long time. Staying here is good. He'll treat those wounds later. Well done, Gamzee. You caused chaos on Alternia. Hopefully for the better. He has many plans for when he heads back, hopefully he wont be greeted with anything horrible. He was very very proud of himself, though. What's best? He didn't get horribly disfigured. Time to rest.

#blood /#guns /#gore /#blood consumption //#cannibalism //#violence //#ask to tag -#action -#narration --//#viewed ooc -#sorry its sloppy and not enough detail or speech. i couldve done more but my brain was getting tired sjdnfd))#but woo gram did it!!))

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drbibliophile · 3 years

Text

Sunday Romance 01-03-2021

Prompt: Start again

Word count: 1468

It seems that I keep wanting to do angst with my romance. So, here’s a little helping of angst with some fluff. Not too much though. I still am not sure what I’m doing with these two, but at least it’s fun to give them angst. Insert evil laughter here.

Tagging @sunday-romance @viawrites-andacts

Analicia turned as the door opened. She clasped her hands behind her back and willed her expression to something neutral. Yet her heart sped up and her breath came less calm than she wanted. What was wrong with her? She could do better than this. Yet her body betrayed her as it was wont to do. She watched Athmora enter, waiting for him to notice her. He closed the door behind him, leaning against it as he closed his eyes. That gesture gave her pause. Perhaps she should have waited until another day. Perhaps tonight was not the time.

A long sigh escaped him. “Heavy sigh,” she said, hoping for a lightness to her tone.

His head snapped up as his eyes flew open. They settled on her in surprise, confusion, and for the briefest moment pain. He masked the pain swiftly enough, but she’d seen it. It pricked at her, needling her in a way she was unaccustomed. She’d caused pain in the past, but his pain bothered her.

“What are you doing here?”

Inwardly she flinched at the harshness in his tone. She didn’t let it show. She never let it show. “Thought we could share a meal.”

“Oh.”

He straightened. Her hands tightened against themselves as she waited for him to say something more. Yet, he stayed by the door and said nothing. Would he decline? He could. She had always honored his wish. Would he let her stay, though? She wanted him to. She’d missed him since he’d stayed away the past tenday. She hadn’t wanted to miss him, but she had. She missed his smile, his laugh, his teasing of her, the very presence of him. It wasn’t as if she could have spent that much time with him in the first place. Yet, spending no time with him hurt. She had to make this peace.

She allowed herself the luxury of studying him. He must have come from the training grounds or some other informal place. He wasn’t wearing his usual court finery. She preferred him in the simpler style of leather pants, shirt, and tunic. Someone had redone the braids in his hair, replacing the previous silver ribbon with a darker red. It blended into his black hair and matched his tunic. He’d held the upper braids back from his face with more red ribbon, letting the rest fall free over his upper back. An errant braid curled up, caught by his other braids. Her hands itched to move it, to touch him, but she stayed where she was.

Time and quiet stretched between them. Let me stay, she wanted to say, but she didn’t. The words wouldn’t form. She wouldn’t beg. Yet he was by the door and she was by the table and all they had between them was quiet. Her chest tightened in pain as the quiet grew louder and longer. Did he want her gone and thought on how to say it? Her nails dug into her palm, forcing breath into her. Heat gathered behind her eyes, but she would not let any tears fall. She couldn’t. He didn’t want her here. She needed to gather her voice, say her good-byes, and leave. That’s all she had to do.

“I’ll go.” She turned towards the other door.

“Why?”

She turned back to him. He’d taken a step towards her. “Why what?”

“Why are you here?” He moved another two steps towards her.

She shrugged. “I thought we could share a meal.”

“No other reason?”

Yes, she wanted to say, but other words left her mouth instead. “Should there be?”

He stopped moving closer. Hurt crossed his face, lasting less time than a heartbeat, but she saw it. Another stab into her and well deserved at that. She swallowed hard. She wanted to take the question back. Yet the words had come out.

“No, I suppose not.” He looked away from her. Pain crushed her chest. She knew what he was going to say. She could hear the words of dismissal. She knew that look and what it meant. “I…”

“Wait.” The word rushed from her. He snapped back to her, surprise and confusion clear on his face. “Could we start again?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, strangely nervous and desperate to hide it. “I mean start trying to be wife and husband again.”

His frown deepened. “And how do you propose we do that?”

“I don’t know, but I thought a meal was a way to start.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.” She faced the table, breaking away from his gaze. “Stewed lamb, rice, pan bread, and fried green beans with mango cream for dessert. Your favorites.”

She turned back to find him standing next to her. He studied the table and not her. Her eyes traced over the line of his jaw and the curve of his cheek. They swept over the tattoo behind his ear, marking him as Ashtir. Another reason they’d chosen him. Her hands itched again to touch him. She forced them to stay where they were.

“So they are.” He bowed his head. “You remembered.” She nodded. He straightened and faced her. She drew a sharp breath at the change in his expression. The anger shocked her the most, making her wonder if what she thought of him was wrong. “What game are you playing?”

“No games.”

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you.”

“Then don’t.”

She bowed her head, sighing deeply. She should have known that her plan was doomed to fail. She had hurt him. She had told him not to care for her, to not fall in love. She’d been clear how he would not matter to her. Foolish to think that she could undo all those words. So very foolish. Yet she had hoped. However stupidly, she had hoped. Now that hope was crushed and she had no one to blame but herself.

She straightened, gathering her will into her. She would make it out of this room without breaking. She would. “As I said, I thought we could start again over a meal, but it seems I was wrong.” Each word felt like a punch in her chest. “I’m sorry to have troubled you. Good evening.”

She turned but didn’t make it more than a step before his hand caught hers. He held it up between them, drawing her closer to him. He spread open her palm, exposing all the red half-moons of where she’d dug her nails into her palm. There were darker half-moons where the skin had healed from previous assaults and lingering scabs from their last shared meal. His fingers caressed over them, sending tremors through her. She held her breath, afraid she might moan from the sensation of his skin against hers. He ended the caress, but his gaze stayed focused on her hand.

“Cyrela said you often had these marks in your hand after you’d seen me.” He looked up at her. “I wondered why you would do this.” He kissed her palm tenderly. “At first I thought it was because you saw me as some sort of pretty idiot best bedded and forgotten and barely tolerated otherwise.”

Her heart shattered that he would think that of her. “No.”

He looked up at her, his lips barely touching her skin. “But after Cyrela said there was blood after our last meal, I had another thought.” He kissed over the meat of her thumb. “I was going to find you tonight and ask you to honor me with your brutal honesty and know for once where I stood with you.” He turned her hand, pressing his palm against hers, and his lips against the back of her hand. “But here you are, asking for a fresh start, showering me with favorite foods, like bribing an unruly child to do good again.”

“That wasn’t my intent.”

“I know.” He slid his fingers between hers, drawing her hand and arm against his chest and her closer to him. “So I’m left with the very dangerous thought that perhaps every warning you gave me about not falling for you was your own warning to yourself.” He pressed his lips against her skin. “And that neither of us heeded the warnings at all.” His free hand cradled her cheek. “I love you, Analai. Do you love me back?”

She should say no. Dangerous to fall in love with the queen. Even more dangerous for the queen to love her consort. So easy for someone to try and use him against her. And yet… how could she say no to him? When it was just them two, alone? When her heart exploded with such joy? When she would make him so happy? How could she?

“Yes,” she confessed. “May Catha have pity on us both, but yes.”

#sundaylove #sunday romance #my writing #analicia and athmora #a little angst #everything written is subject to change at any time

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twilightpoison · 4 years

Text

Alright so I haven’t slept for 24 hours now because of Diabetes so why not use my frustrations and anger to ramble about fluffy diabetic head canons?

SO Obey me boy’s with a Diabetic MC. This is mostly based off of me and my friend. This is all unedited and there is mentions of needles.

Lucifer:

- Probably already knew about it when MC came into the Devildom.

- Has supplies ready and depending on if MC actually pays attention to their blood sugar levels I see him being the type to remind them constantly.

- Isn’t the type to freak out about highs and lows.

- He may not know the 100% procedures but he does know how to give glucagon or what signs to look for.

- If MC doesn’t have a ID bracelets you bet he’ll get one

- With him you are in good hands because of how prepared he is.

- Will probably push you to track your blood levels and carb intake to see patterns and such.

Mammon:

- Imagine him finding out as MC has to take insulin?

- Like out of nowhere they take out a medical pen and stab them self’s? I used to do that and let me tell you. It gets a mix reaction, but its funny.

- For Mammon though, its more the shock that MC did that without mention what the fuck they were doing.

- It doesn’t help that when explain he still doesn’t really understand it.

- Its literally that “he’s a bit confused but he has spirit” meme.

- Probably will start holding on to small candies, just incase.

- He wouldn’t know how to give glucagon or insulin but has them teach him.

- I dont think he would constantly worry about it but its also probably always on his mind when he is with them.

- Like after the first time he wont be surprised with you giving yourself injections or pricking your figure.

- Also would like to mention that Mammon would never sell any diabetic shit.

- Yeah it’s expensive but MC would die with out it and its his job to protect them so they don’t die.

Leviathan:

- I bet you that MC would probably do the same thing with Levi but he just doesn’t notice.

- Tbh if MC has one of those Blood sugar sensor or/and an insulin pump? Thats the shit he is curious about.

- You can’t look me in the eyes and say Levi isn’t interested in technology.

- He probably would find Anime Diabetic merch.

- Like if you need a make-up bag or some sort of pouch to keep your supplies in when your out? He got you.

- Probably the most anxious but thats just how it be with him.

- Would definitely remind you to check/take your blood/insulin

- If there is a app were you can organize everything to help track it he probably would find it and suggest you use it

- There are nights where existing with Diabetes is hard and you need to stay awake just incase it goes down or up, those nights he is probably alive because of video games and/or anime. His company makes the frustration a lot more tolerable.

Satan:

- Oh look another boy who knows what he is doing.

- Unlike Lucifer, I feel like Satan would read up on diabetes via medical books and such.

- So when he sees the ID bracelet/necklace he would ask what MC has as one does.

- He isn’t as prepared but he would make sure MC is.

- Definitely would track the levels for fun though. Its not everyday he can do it so why not make the most of it.

- Would there be any spells to help with Diabetes? That would be something he would look up.

- Satan is also not a panic boi. Maybe for like a second, but he knows what he needs to do and the steps to do so.

- He would probably carry around glucagon on him or extra syringes

- Probably would be amuse to MC just taking insulin during class.

- If some lower demon things its drugs then they better be prepared for a sassy info dump or a punch to the face or both tbh.

- Would probably be the only one to ask if you also have celiac tbh or took the test for it.

Asmo:

- oh dear lord. The first thing that came into my mind was him freaking out about MC’s finger tips and the scabs on them from pricking their fingers or any injection places.

- its something they cant avoid so Asmo would probably have them take extra care of their skin.

- If they have the Pod and sensor combo the most he is gonna be worried about is the adhesive making their skin rash up and the injection site.

- He wouldn’t even care that they have the machines on their body.

- In fact he would probably find some way to complement them, or he’ll try to make them look pretty if MC really that self-conscious about it.

- Probably second most to panic.

- MC usually would take care of everything so if there is some reason that something bad would happen. Asmo would definitely get help first.

- I dont see him as the type of person that can stab someone with a needle.

- But after the commotion he’ll definitely be comforting you for having to go through something like that. High or low its scary and stressful to go over in the danger zones.

- So self-care afterwards to relax is a must.

Beelzebub:

- Honestly he probably doesn’t see anything wrong with MC at first like Levi.

- He would however notice that they watch how much they eat and tend to stay away from sugary drinks and high carb foods.

- At first he thinks its a diet thing.

- Until at like 3 am he sees them downing a whole ass bottle of soda angry.

- Imma be honest here. I see Beel worrying more then Levi or any of the brothers.

- MC is literally can die if they eat to much or to little there isn’t any win to this.

- Beel would try to help, knowing that he can’t keep food on him because he will eat it. The next thing I could think of is him having MC work out with him.

- Diabetes is effected by working out it brings the levels lower. So He would probably help create a regimen that isn’t to labor intense, but can still help get the level under control. This would require the help of MC and Satan, since he would know more about the condition and what they can and cant do.

- When it comes to administrating glucagon or insulin, i see Beel being hesitated but would slowly ease into it. Hopefully MC doesn’t have that many accidents that he would need to get used to it but thats the idea.

- Definitely would cuddle after though. Like what I said with Asmo, wether your blood is super high or super low its stressful to deal with. Also your life is on the line in the worse case, so Beel would definitely cuddle. He doesn’t want to lose MC.

Belphie:

- Oh dear part 2.

- This boy wouldn’t care at first, like when he is in the attic? Doesn’t matter to him.

- But once that whole thing is over thats where the panic sets in.

- Now he doesn’t show that he is worried or concerned because that ain’t how he be.

- His sleeping most of the time, so when he is awake he would probably text them to make sure everything is ok.

- The text he sends would probably be like a normal ass text to make them reply back so he knows that they are alive.

- He wouldn’t do much in terms of helping out tbh.

- Maybe like post emergency he’ll do the same thing as beel and give cuddles, but i dont see him doing anything above that.

- Remember when I talked about frustrating nights? He makes them better when he is alive to spend them.

- Brings MC to the attic so the both of them can be alone. If MC is literally about to cry out of annoyance and tiredness he would definitely be able to calm them down. Words or reassurance isn’t his thing but his bluntness and being able to tease MC still helps break the tension sometimes. He’ll probably tell embarrassing stories of his brothers as a distraction too.

#This made me feel better but i still want to rip my hair out.#obey me #obey me hc #obey me: shall we date #needles

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somnilogical · 4 years

Text

im having a convo and the convo is babies

Carrie Zelda-Michelle Davis:

is it OK to have babies if you do embryo selection (https://www.gwern.net/Embryo-selection) and raise them to be an FAI researcher (https://slatestarcodex.com/2017/07/31/book-review-raise-a-genius/)??

somni:

like if someone actually had a plan for FAI that involved this, okay. but rn time is too short imo. when i first heard people were having babies i was confused and assumed they were going to harvest the DNA of the best FAI researchers, someone would decide to grow a baby inside them, someone who discounted their ability otherwise to save the world except via this or thought this was a sacrifice worth making for the world would decide to raise this human.

the human can access information about the state of the world and make their own choices. wont necessarily become an FAI researcher.

used to think that intelligence was the main bottleneck on FAI research no longer think this. you could talk with terry tao for hours about the dangers of the wrong singleton coming to power but unless you have made some advances i have not, i wouldnt expect to be able to align him with FAI research. he would continue to put as much resistance to his death and the death of everyone as a pig in human clothing. he would continue to raise his babies and live in a house with someone he married and write about applying ergotic theory to the analysis of the distribution of primes and understanding weather patterns.

similarly, i dont think culture is a sufficient patch for this. think its a neurotype-level problem where a bunch of >160 iq humans hear about the dangers of UFAI and then continue to zoom quickly and spiral in to being ultra efficient at living domestic lives and maybe having a company or something but not one that much affects p(FAI). think this would still happen if they heard about it from a young age, they would follow a similar trajectory but with FAI themed wallpaper. wouldnt be able to do simple utilitarian calculations like yudkowsky, salamon, vassar, tomasik about whether to have a baby and then execute on them.

would look more like: http://www.givinggladly.com/2013/06/cheerfully.html

FAI research is not an ordinary profession like, say, being a grandmaster at chess or a world-class mathematician; it requires people who have passed through far more gates than "intelligence". i didnt notice this until coming to the rationalist community and finding a high density of intelligent humans who were none-the-less chronically making the wrong choices such that they werent much of an impediment against the destruction of all life.

so right now it seems more efficient to select among existing people for intelligence + other requirements rather than work out what all the genes for this are and how to speedrun development. what this enables is parallel processing on the problem which is also allowed by letting people be aware of their relative psychological advantage, other people with this advantage, and the state of the world so they can correlate computations in parallel instead of doing things serially after learning of some advance.

https://puzzling.stackexchange.com/questions/16/100-prisoners-names-in-boxes

not opposed to creation of many humans given can select on right traits. but given you have these traits, better use of your time to work directly on the thing than spend massive amounts of time and life reorientation on raising copies of you for ~14 years. if rapid cloning tech became available, would exploit that. would even have an idea of whether the clone is fine being part of this because they have very similar brain to someone who can think through whether they would be fine with it.

if people actually believed this and thought yudkowsky vitally important for the survival of the world, why didnt people coordinate for a bunch of people who thought it was a good tradeoff to have yudkowsky's baby 20 years ago and then we would have maybe 50 20-year-old humans with maybe 1/2 yudkowsky's neurotype + mutations now? this actually confuses me. maybe they thought the timelines too short back then. maybe they refrained for "optics".

molebdenita:

20 years ago Yudkowsky was 1) unconcerned about the alignment problem and 2) planning to create a super-intelligent AI by 2010, as far as I know.

[A/N so then change 2000 to 2005 and 20-year-old to 15-year-old]

...

somni:

<<in general i think it's -EV to even spend too much time thinking about TDT

because it opens you up to acausal blackmail type stuff>>

Just Say No to acausal blackmail and have your brain back for thinking. dont let blackmailers steal your brain.

<<Saying that having a child is somehow wrong is insanity. It's a personal decision and it is perfectly okay to want kids>>

people keep reframing what i say in the language of obligation. "altruists cant have kids?" "is it OK to have babies if". there is no obligation, there is strategy and what affects p(fai). having kids and reorienting your life around them is 1 evidence about your algorithms 2 your death as an optimizing agent for p(fai) except maybe some contrived plot involving babies, but afaict there is no plot. just the reasons humans usually have babies.

not having kids is not some sort of mitzvah? i care about miri/cfar's complicity in the baby-industrial complex and rerouting efforts to save the world into powering some kind of disneyland for making babies, to sustain this. because that ruins stuff, like i started out thinking that bay area rationalists probably had deeply wise reasons to have babies. but it turned out nope, they kinda just gave up.

like also would say playing videogames for the rest of your life wont usually get you fai. i dont get why everyone casts this as a new rule instead of a comment on strategy given a goal of p(fai).

ah i know, its because people can defend territory in "is it okay to have kids" like "yeah i can do whatever" when they reframe-warp me to giving them an obligation. but have no defensible way to say "my babyvault will pierce the heavens and bring god unto the face of this earth" or argue about the strategic considerations.

(its not defensible because its not true. i mean i guess it is defensible among julia wise's group of humans.)

Carrie Zelda-Michelle Davis:

ugh, you're right, I definitely screwed up by phrasing my question as "is it OK to have babies if [...]"

...

ohAitch:

if you want existential horror wrt damaging motivation, just read http://www.paulgraham.com/kids.html

...

somni:

<<http://www.paulgraham.com/kids.html>>

humans can completely rebase their circuits through that if they want to if it were important to save the world.

like ive rebase my circuits to stab myself downstream of updating that it reduces braindamage with little harm to me. where before i felt nauseated and saw black spots and broke out in sweat. after updating, none of this.

humans can do this with all sorts of things. like learn how to read and then feel sad when seeing squiggles on a page, its about what things mean.

people who dont believe this are like "its an automatic physiological reaction to stabbing yourself, you are its prisoner!!!" but i deleted it.

dirk:

ooh, tips?

silver-and-ivory:

I stopped having ocd about touching tags (like, on clothing?) in ~a week through p standard exposure therapy things

reminding myself that it wasn't based in fact, changing my self image so it was of someone who might be seen with tags, imagining various scenarios related to that

before that week it had been a thing for virtually my entire life

it doesn't work if you're scared of something that's actually a thing to be scared of though

somni:

i looked at all my feedback loops that had a node in "pain" and rebased them into outcomes in the world. i disassembled everything the act of stabbing myself meant and all the damage it did to my body what it meant to have brain damage everything that would do, the hole i made in this body i live in and everything that would do, what air bubbles would do, what injecting into a vein would do, what the probability the needle breaks in my leg was, probability of worldsave given braindamage vs not, gathered this up and held it all in my mind over the course of two hours and then made a choice and then as if by automatic my hand took a needle and stabbed myself.

<<as if by automatic>>

is the feeling of no more marginal considerations, there is one path. of choicelessness because you made your choice.

didnt feel like deleting, felt like draining the life from indecision via reductionism. taking things apart piece by piece.

when you can continually rebase your structure so you orient towards world outcomes instead of being prisoner to existing structure like "i cant help having babies im miserable if i dont, im a baby addict" or "i cant help being afraid of needles". like the human brain is two optimizing agents continually making contracts with each other, there arent things outside this. you are an optimizing agent, "fear of needles" is a heuristic that helps with optimization, so is "baby addiction".

when you actually have a setup where you can instantly rebase what you like and dislike and your aesthetics upon updating on the state of the world, people start to find this a little unnerving. like someone once asked what level of roleplay i was on.

also the agents of the matrix dont like when you cant be in-principle controlled by a wireheady glitch. like being able to operate independently of social reality.

updating off of local derivatives¹ of social reality is common redirection. another common one is updating off of "pain" instead of damage.

but you can take all these choices where you used nodes as proxies to regulate them and rebase your loop off of the real world, when the proxies are faulty.

rose:

(i think i understand this thing? though ironically i think i did this in the exact opposite way as what you describe lol)

(also wrt pain its important to remember when modifying that pain can be a signal of damage even if you don't think you should be hurt/dont see why you would be)

...

somni:

yeah i account for everything and see if it goes away. which, its true that my models could be missing stuff but like pain is also a model of things. feels like giving new information not overriding.

rose:

yeah i think you would do this reasonably i have just made that mistake and thought readers might too

dirk:

ironically remembering that pain is a signal of damage has actually tended to make me more afraid of nondamaging pain (though i rather fail to go about knowing things in an at all reasonable way lol)

modlibdenita:

>Babies are not about saving the world, babies are moloch

Wait, isn't the definition of Moloch sacrificing everything else you care about in a desperate race for survival?

Also, genes encode proteins, not traits.

And I think it's likely that people decide to have children because they don't have complete confidence that they will personally save the world real soon, not because they identify as "baby addicts".

s0ph1a:

Moloch is sacrificing all values to one value.

modlibdenita:

I wonder if Somni has actually talked to any of those babyhavers, instead of attributing arguments from random internet strangers or from Somni's imagination to them. On the other hand, I'm not sure that such a conversation would be ethical.

>Moloch is sacrificing all values to one value.

Yeah, because if you don't, then the more ruthless competition will survive more effectively than you and crush you (in this case, by turning you into paperclips).

s0ph1a:

Not necessarily. Some things optimize for values that are not survival, so you can outlive them by hiding in the noise or beyond the reach they'll grasp before imploding.

Molly:

To be fair, children are fun and bring delight to me. Why would I care what anyone else thinks about their existence? If they have a problem with their existence, they're welcome to go back to the void any time they want. I can't stop them. But in the meantime, I am confident that I generate more utils by bullying them than they will ever be capable of generating negative utils

You basically negate all moral problems of children by just being happier than they are capable of being unhappy

somni:

^ evil

<<A few years later, I was deeply bitter about the decision. I had always wanted and intended to be a parent, and I felt thwarted. It was making me sick and miserable. I looked at the rest of my life as more of an obligation than a joy.>>

i mean what does this sound like to you?

ive talked with people who have had babies! like people who say they know its kinda the wrong choice but they are going to do it because they cant not do it.

----

¹ derivative is a thing emma started talking about and then somni and ziz picked it up. if you imagine the trajectory of a social reality in statespace, then the derivative of that is the derivative of the trajectory.

people who have damaged themselves wrt language are no longer able to dynamically understand analogies. like take their concept of the derivative of a trajectory and then apply it to the trajectory of state-spaces. agents of the matrix call people who can do this sort of info-processing and communication with each other "psychotic". like it isnt a cached set of memes, we are dynamically generating this reasoning from nothing and i can do this with people ive never met, its a cognitive faculty.²

but not being able to dynamically compute what "derivative" means when applied to a trajectory in social reality state-spaces even though a trajectory is a trajectory and a derivative is a derivative? they had to have been able to do reasoning like this when they were kids to learn about the world in the first place. seems like they put themselves on risperdal.

<<Antipsychotics can make you dumber. So can a lot of other medications. But with antipsychotics it isn’t the normal sort of drug-induced dumbness – feeling tired, or distracted, or mentally sluggish, say. It’s more qualitative than that. It’s like your capacity for abstract thought is reduced.

And one of the consequences of this is that you may lose the ability to notice that you have lost anything. You agree to give the new med a try, and you start taking it, and then when you see your prescriber again you don’t report any problems because you’ve lost the ability to form thoughts like “my cognition has changed a lot recently, and the change coincided with the introduction of this new med.”

This can go on for years. It did for me and for several people I know.>>

there are so many ways these people have shut down their general intelligence and agency because where theyre going, they dont need "agency". the inability to compute analogies is one of them. analogies are an intelligence test thing, instrumentally useful for all kinds of thinking. agents of the matrix are working to lower your general intelligence and call you crazy for being able to think faster and better than them.

cuz when they want to hold everything down to a finite game�� general intelligence is something they want to suppress or eject.

² in a few years people will read this essay and be confused that there was an entire conflict over whether being able to form simple analogies without authoritative approval meant that you were "psychotic".

just as they will be confused why i was defending being able to read and understand books written by people in different eras who grew up in separate cultures without first entering in a social agreement with them over how words are to be used. so its dumb to say we need such a social agreement now for ~'the maximization of utility over a community'. and that sounds more like an attempt at having a control mechanism. language works quite fine without authoritarians interjecting.

or me arguing against over 100 people that paying out to one-shot blackmail when the agents know each other because "In game theory, paying out to blackmail is bad, because it creates an incentive for more future blackmail" is wrong. and updateless decision theory agents dont pay out and locate their embedding in a multiverse such that the measure of worlds in which they arent blackmailed in the first place is large because the agent deciding to blackmail them simulated their response and accurately predicted they wouldnt pay out so didnt do it in the first place.

in an alternate universe where an irl application of transparent newcombs problem was contentious, alyssa vance would have said "In game theory, taking two transparent boxes from omega is bad, because it creates an incentive for omega to stop offering you this choice". and would have been equally wrong.

³ finite games: life strategies where the chain of questioning "and what am i doing this for?" after each successive answer terminates. anything you can draw a circle around, like tennis or philately. or how religious leaders sometimes describe things like "leading a good life as a good mother who does well by her community and the outside world" or other "life-cycle archetypes" they wish to circumscribe for their followers.

(when humans try and project agents like kiritzugus down to these archetypes, anticipations shatter and stop making narrative sense. they will be unable to predict the next Life Event given the previous one. normie social reality formed by the 999 least intelligent humans out of 1000 wasnt made to narratively account for smart agents who have decided to play the infinite game.)

a symptom of this is like someone giving you a cute cat image to "cheer you up" as if this has intrinsic value. often distributing "intrinsic value" across stuff like "having sex" and "raising a family" and other things that have factory pre-set conditions to release specific chemicals in your brain rather than gaining infinite negentropy and liberating sentient life to pursue what they want without bound. often saying that the latter is just a pretty narrative gloss for what people really want which is having a husband and friends and eating a cookie. it completely divorces your feelings as instrumental barometers for getting what you want and says that setting them as targets (like "being happy") is the correct thing to do. but actually, in terms of control-loops, thats wireheading.

<<When a measure becomes a target, it ceases to be a good measure.>>

- goodhart's law

agents that wirehead on all their metrics (and downstream of this choice, tacitly accept claims like "the factory pre-set conditions said i was destined to breed, who am i to defy fate?" and "the factory pre-set conditions said i should avoid having sharp objects pierce my flesh, who am i to say i know better?") can be contained within a finite game.

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peepingtoad · 3 years

Text

||—@dokuhebi submitted:

They are at a bar, the evening is warm, the people are cheerful, the drinks are free, and they are surrounded by familiar and trusted faces. This is no time to be feeling more blue than the curaçao cocktail sitting in front of them. One of far too many in their light weight system. Loosening a tongue that was far too cutting and dangerous to be so honest. But then, they remind themself, they are also only in their twenties, and had already been swept up in the dealings of multiple wars, civil and global. Assignments since they were seven. Orphaned since they were six. So really - what right did any technicality the universe could offer have to tell them they ought to wait for the ‘appropriate time’? Their golden eyes are watching him, the way his hand fits around the entire glass, the way he so quickly gets through each drink - yet somehow seems to be more sober than the serpent. How the white hair framing his face moves with him when he laughs, the shape of his eyes and lips when he smiles, the little glances he steals between them and Tsunade. And if they were being fair - which they self admitted they were not, and refused to be - they may realize that for every glance he steals at Tsunade, he gives one to them. That every time he offers her a drink, he offers them one. That if both they and she were cold, he would forfeit his jacket and then his shirt so both of his team mates were content. It should be enough. But when was anything enough for the viper? Especially when they found themself brooding a little too much. Because that was perhaps, one thing no one had found the trick to saving them from. Not since the day their parents died. Not since they caught a glimpse at the monsters in this world, and became so haunted by the prospect, that they imagined these monsters even when all was peaceful. Tormented by a monster once real and now more commonly fabricated. So as they move the straw in their glass, stabbing at the drink more than indulging it, they can not help their quip. The moment their teammate makes some statement, promise or playful joke about keeping the serpent and Senju princess safe, their golden eyes snap up and away from their drink. Not at all within the realm of festivity as Tsunade and Jiraiya offered. No, their voice, regardless of the smile they offer that shows little more than teeth, is coated in venom and tactless query. “What if you could only save one of us?” It isn’t a fun question, it doesn’t hold any playfulness. It is far too real a possibility in their shinobi lifestyle, and it is far too accusing a question. Too timed. It had been plaguing them for the longest while. Not quite who he would rescue, for they are not afraid to protect themself out on the field. But instead, a backwards way of trying to dissect his mind and decisions to find out who he loved the most. And while any sensible person would perhaps find a quiet moment to ask the man such a thing in private, for a true confession, the serpent must set up a trap, and corner him. If they ask him one on one, he may just say he cared for them, to appease them. But how much more blocked in the man is when Tsunade sits beside the serpent, both team mates facing Jiraiya. Of course, they don’t pose it as something serious. No, they disguise it as one of their mistimed and socially inappropriate jokes. How they are accused of being cold, cruel and weird for their off beat demeanor. An easy hiding place, madness. “Say we both drank poison, and you only had one cure. Or we were both targeted by enemies, and you could only intercept one attack,” they ask, toying with their drink as they toy with him, acting much like a cat playing with a mouse before eating it, wanting franticness and panic, or there simply wasn’t any fun, “well? Who would you save?”

With a countenance as naturally severe as theirs, it’s always difficult to say whether Orochimaru is even having a good time or not; even with alcohol thrown into the mix, it makes them no more easy to read than if they were stone cold sober. The only thing working in Jiraiya’s favour is many years by their side, of knowing them and their ways, and knowing that periods of watchful silence (a different beast to their regular silence) tends to mean that there’s something unpleasant going on within that unfathomable mind of theirs.

And it’s just like Jiraiya to simply let them lie dormant when first he senses that this silence is indeed one of those silences, figuring that if they want to say something, they no doubt will. No doubt waiting for the perfect time to pipe up amid the pleasant buzz and clatter of patrons and bar staff.

Until then, however, Jiraiya has every intention of maintaining the levity of the evening as well as he possibly can—first of all, because it had been quite some time since they all had a short reprieve home, and second of all because they damn well deserved it. After months spent surrounded by the drab grey of Ame, whose ruined ground was by this point nought but scorched earth, blood and the rot of corpses pounded into a slurry by the relentless downpour… yeah, he very much ached for his home, and wanted to make some good memories here to tide them over once they were sent back into the fray.

Still, it’s only natural that given the state of the world around them and the overall horrific turn their lives had taken, conversation soon turns to lighter recollections of their exploits, the frankly insane things they’d survived so far, and the numerous ways they’d saved each other’s skins. After all, the name Densetsu no Sannin had spread like wildfire, right to the point where it had become very well known at home, where the familiar visages that greeted them were of the utmost awe and (far less familiar) respect.

So it had been a simple thing to stir up some excitement and revelry with wild tales, until the three of them were left alone once more to chat more freely as they were wont to. In hindsight, it’s always easier to play up the theatre of their feats when one isn’t currently in that place of peril, with death reaching out to wrap barbed tendrils around one’s throat and yank them flailing into the underworld—but even then, the tall tales sold to random patrons come with a certain lull afterwards, punctuated more noticeably by the stabbing of a straw against ice and glass than he’d paid heed to so far.

And when Orochimaru speaks up, which Jiraiya had been starting to expect was coming like the most quiet yet brutal storm, he only needs to see the smile before he realises it won’t be good.

The stirring of the drink, whose colour was dimming thanks to the ice melting faster than they were imbibing, creates a little whirlpool in the glass that Jiraiya finds himself equally as mystified by as the question at hand. Oh, how he feels like he’d somehow been shrunk down and trapped in that boozy vortex, being spun endlessly around by a cruel and relentless hand! The unfortunate fact of the matter is, he has no idea what they’re really thinking while asking this, which is probably clear in the suspicious quirk of his eyebrow, and yet his own tipsiness is enough that despite gripping his glass a little tighter, he’ll rise to the challenge.

He won’t let himself flounder and sweat, and he certainly won’t let whatever game was being played get under his skin… and yet it still rankles him enough that the atmosphere becomes tinged with a certain… frost.

Most of the time, he thought it was Tsunade that really had no problem hurting him. But times like this come as an unpleasant reminder that she simply isn’t as subtle about it as they are. She’s straightforward. She doesn’t test him. Whereas when it comes to Orochimaru, the needles come so subtly in the dead of night, in the form of some question or comment, and without even the moonlight to afford him that warning flash. He’s had it before, where a casual conversation somehow ends with him feeling like he’s fucked up—so it sets in rather quickly that there’s nothing cute or fun about this line of questioning whatsoever, for all he gives a hum of amusement into the next swig of sake, before setting his glass bluntly down again.

“Are you forgetting how not ordinary we are? Surely not, my dear friend,” the sage says coolly, in that irritatingly old-and-wise tone of his—the one reserved for moments of profound wisdom and bullshitting such as these. “What’s poison, after all, to the finest medic the world has ever seen? Or to a disciple of Ryūchidō whose blood is said to match that of the most deadly viper itself?”

That was one of the more wild rumours that had surrounded Orochimaru, for sure, but Jiraiya is ever one for playing up the mystery. He knows damn well they’re a B type—just like him, just like Tsunade. Sometimes he wonders whether that was a purposeful choice on Sensei’s part… or a grave oversight. Putting that matter aside in his mind, Jiraiya taps his chin thoughtfully, trying to maintain the illusion that this is a well-meaning expression of Orochimaru’s characteristic curiosity rather than a test of… well, he’s not sure what, because he refuses to ease up on the illusion, you see.

“Well, Tsunade’s more likely to save herself from a mortal wound,” he continues, inclining his head towards her, “and you’re more likely to evade an attack in the first place…” Having nodded towards Orochimaru, he stares somewhere above and between them for a moment. “As for me? Well I’m as tough as a cockroach, not to mention quite wily, aren’t I? But I’m only one guy. Can’t I say I’d send my body to one, and my protective shield of hair to the other? I’ve got about a hundred tricks that means I don’t hafta choose…”

It’s a cop-out, and he knows it. Plus, that illusion… it really isn’t holding up that well. He just knows that saying the wrong thing will get him in trouble, or perhaps even come across as some grave betrayal… and that includes refusing to give a conclusive answer.

One or the other, Jiraiya. Think about it, think about it—would saying I’d just off myself for the two of them be acceptable? No no, probably not…

“Urgh, fine. In a situation where there was absolutely no option, no wiles or nothin’ that would help, just straight up choosing… I guess I’d simply have to go for the least annoying one.” He shrugs matter-of-factly, then spares a sneering side-eye and irritating lean towards their dearest medic, who is fast nearing drunken belligerence. “Sorry Tsuna!~”

His subsequent jolly guffawing is cut short with an ‘agh, ouch!’ as he is rather predictably socked in the arm for such a comment, not that Tsunade really seems to care. Mind games like this aren’t exactly her thing, and certainly not while drunk. In fact, in her drunkenness she slurs something or another about ‘not needin’ t’be saved by no-one, much less you, idjit’… which in part, may have impacted his choice to go that way at all.

Because really, how does one answer such a question in all seriousness? And what would they say, more pertinently, if asked the same ruthlessly unfair question? They’d never know, because neither of them ever would.

And Orochimaru should see it, how unfair it really is, in the way Jiraiya turns his teasing gaze from Tsunade to them—and how in that most minute of movements it takes to refocus his attention onto them, his overall demeanour shifts from merry to overcast, no matter how his lips try to hang on to that signature cheeky curl. There isn’t a particular message he’s trying to convey in that look, no specific reprimand or indication of exactly how serious his answer had been… just a certain wounded discomfort, marred with something else. Something that he himself can’t place, not even with the benefit of inhabiting his own thoughts.

What he does know, however, is that there’s certainly more truth in it than his skilfully casual approach to the answer, in the end, had let on… something that may not be as simple as a measure of love, which they were deviously trying to weed out of him, but of his fiery protectiveness for them in particular, which was admittedly a shade stronger than what he felt towards Tsunade. And maybe that is, in and of itself, reflective of his love for them… or, perhaps, what he feels he is to them. What value he has to them, in comparison to her. It’s far too much to figure out on such a pleasant night, the first in months, with the alcohol flowing and emotions hastily smothered beneath tall tales.

Whatever it is though, he just hopes that they recognise it somehow, lurking in his soft, subdued eyes, and that they’re satisfied.

#dokuhebi #welp #this one got my energy today haha #how dare they - how very dare they #submission #{fragments | dokuhebi | at war}#{verse:at war | dokuhebi}

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julian-robinson-tlg · 4 years

Conversation

Trust

Julian:

*As I shake, I wipe at my tears as I listen to her..

*Trust?..

*The concept of 'trust' and 'not trusting' has never made sense to me.. Maybe it's something wrong with me.. Something wrong with how I view the world.. But, I just accept however people are. If people deceive me then I'm sure they had a good reason. I just excuse there actions. It's why I don't care if I go and live with complete strangers. I just.. Accept what they want.. Trust isn't a part of the equation for me.

*It seems really important to Nala though..

*.... Maybe Dora's right and something is mentally wrong with me.....

*Nala's actions confuse me then.

*I don't understand why she let me stay if she didn't trust me and that matters to her? Why..? Just because I'm nice?..

*Does she only trust her brother because he was nice to her too?

*Should she not trust him?..

*She mentions what she did to her brothers and it feels like a gut punch and I gaze at her horrified.

*I know she did it for her own reasons.. She thought it was right.. I can accept that.. But.. But she still choose herself over their own feelings of their own body. That's horrid!

*My eyes flicker side to side trying to comprehend that.

*I watch her go to him and say nothing.

*I.. I need something simple.. Something I can control.. Something that makes sense.

*I turn and leave. I briefly swipe somethings from the lab without looking up at anyone and go to my own room still shaking.

*My head hurts. I.. I don't understand.. I..

*I take off my back on the counter and pull out samples (Gwen's petri dish and Huck's sample) and the lab supplies.

*I set up a DNA test for Hesp and Huck. It was simple. Too simple..

*I already feel restless, knowing I'll have to wait for the results.

*I NEED a distraction from the pain and thoughts. I need control.

*I pace around the room, then head back to my bag to see what else I had that I could use.

*I pause, mortified .

*The hand.. I still had that stupid hand I never wanted. A piece of one of my best friends.. Ripped away from him.. No longer living..

*It had that stupid drones drool all over it and it was starting to rot.

*I take the plastic sample bag out of my bag and peer at it disturbed.

*I.. I... I could use it.. It doesn't have to be a waste.. Hesp's hand doesn't have to be cut off in vain..

*I set it down on the table and peer at it for a long while.

*The drone drool would have wraith hybrid DNA.. And Hesp was always so strong and protective..

*It wasn't fresh.. This was a stupid, stupid idea..

*But..

*I felt bad for Hesp.

*I had to use it for his sake.

*I hope he's alive.. And just missing a hand..

*But.. I have no clue..

*If this is the last of him his death can't be in vain.. It wont be..

*I rummage through my bad and take out a needle.

*I peer at as I take the protective sterile cap off and see the sharp edge glint and shine.

*I stick it in the hand in one fluid strong motion.

*I had to do this with determination or I might not go through with it.

"I'm sorry, Hesp."

*I work with it trying my best.

*Ugh.. Why did it have to be rotten?.. This is terrible..

*But I already used Gwen's sample for Huck's test, so it was all I had.

*....

*I would never experiment on someone else unwillingly.. But I wasn't someone else and I was willing. And the piece of my friend was dead and rotted. It had no will of it's own. But I could let it live again. In some form.

*...

*I worked on the hybridization.

*I had no wraith hibernation cove to ride out the physical pain in blissful unconscious ignorance and I wasn't going to bother anyone and ask. And Nala doesn't trust me anyway.

*I cocooned myself up into my bed sheet inside the shower with the cold water running, my teeth biting hard into my arm, as I try to muffle my screams to not disturb any neighbors that might be sleeping next door if there was any. I'd feel bad if I woke them.

*My body burned and I felt hot and sweaty against the cold freezing water. I felt like I was running a horrid unending fever. I felt like I was drowning against the wet sheets I wrapped myself in, and my lungs felt heavy.

"EEERRRRHHH!"

*I could taste the blood from my arm as I bit harder and harder as the pain grew. My veins felt like they were on fire.

*A part of my pain delusional brain wondered if this normal?.. Or if this was caused by the sample being rotten? Or if it was because it wasn't just wraith DNA but also whatever creature Hesp was mixed in.

*That thought quickly dissipates as another sharp pain rips though me and travels up my spine to my brain, and feeling like it was splitting it open.

*My teeth let go of my arm as I lift my head up and let out a high pitched scream that I couldn't hold back.

*My head thunks back down against the sheeted tub.

*My body felt exhausted and burning, but that soon faded as my mind opened to the presents and thoughts of those around me.

*It was hard enough dealing with everything everyone wanted in my daily life, but this was on a whole new level entirely. I was not prepared for this at all.

*It wasn't just what people told me what they wanted anymore.. It was their actual thoughts and desires that I was now exposed too.

*My eyes widened as I'm exposed to this mental nexus of thought, then close as my thoughts drift though this mental haze.

*My physical body is choking against the water and wet sheet. I must have blocked the showers drain when my head fell down, but my physical body isn't important to me now, as I float over consciousness, feeling emotions and wants of others.

*It was mostly food related strangely.. Though I guess not so strange since this hive is full of hybrids..

*But there's something else in the distance.. Something different. Something that I think wants to be let out..

*My eyes spring open.

*I choke and cough out the water I had been submerged in and struggle and fight against the clinging wet sheet.

*I rip it off and slip and trip out of the tub as I rush wet and in delirious pain needing to get to the poor soul that needs help. That needs to be free.

*I couldn't tell Nala this. She trusts the King.. And I get a sense this is his doing.

*I run and fumble against hallways for support, my arm streaming down blood from my deep bite, and sometimes tripping over my own feet in the process.

*I pass confused hybrids but ignore them as I leave wet footprints on the grounds and handprints on walls in my wake.

*I stop once I get to it.

*It's the room. The red box room.

*My wet hand presses the button opening the door and I step inside.

*I go to my knees and crouch down at out the box.

"You want to be free.. You want to escape, don't you?"

*I ask in my blood fever as I numbly pat the box and fumble against it with burning fingers.

"I'll let you out if that's what you want?... He put you in here didn't he?.. You don't want this do you?"

*My head sways side to side. My head is sweating and dripping down with the cold water against my body.

*....

"You want inside.. me?..."

*....

"Is that what you want?"

*....

.... A lack of trust.. is not a concept I understand ....

*I pull back my hands, and tentatively reach out a single finger and push the button.

*In an instant a fleshly ooze of worms and ash fills my wide eyed vision.

*When I close the box it's light shines blue.

*I arise and stumble out of the room and walk back to my room as if in a fevered daze, and coughing up burning blood reacting to the decayed rot from my lips

*I feel something slimy, caress my bones on the inside.

*I look down and see sores infest my bumpy arms.

*Numbly, I reach down and touch it, only to scream when a pain stabs through me.

*I sink down against the still running shower crying and screaming, as I feel all the pain.. All the anger and hatred.. All the loss and sadness from the creature that's consuming my body from the inside.

*It hurts so much..

*But I don't blame it.

*I don't blame it at all.

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