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iamjacksragingboner · 5 months

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Overbearing Soap 3

Overprotective Soap gets sick, and is hellbent on making you do things for him: feed him, wash him, jerk him off, all the regular things people do for you when you're sick.

Part 2

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Smut, hand fucking, jerking Soap off, dub con, you know the deal

A/N: Gonna be real with you, I've never actually written smut before. Shits difficult when you don't know what the fuck goes on. YOU'RE TELLIN ME THE PEENER GOES WHERE? Anyways go easy on me shawties.

You weren’t entirely sure when you got used to Johnny living with you, but you had kind of just accepted your joint occupancy at that point. You’d spied on Johnny’s laptop—apart from the various open porn tabs which you didn’t dare click on—his emails to the landlord, moving out of his apartment and putting his name on your lease as well. He hadn’t exactly discussed this with you, but then again, you figured Johnny never really tended to discuss any of his decisions with you; they just sort of happened, and you were just along for the ride.

There was a time where Johnny woke up with a fever, all sniffly and hot, yet shivering in bed next to you. “I swear, if you get me sick, Johnny, I will have your guts for garters,” you moaned, dragging yourself out of bed and away from the blubbering snot machine.

You were surprised and equally concerned to find that he didn’t have the strength to retort at all, instead settling for a groaning, almost whimpering noise, which wasn’t good in the slightest. You pressed the back of your palm to his forehead, and grimaced as it came away burning hot. “Alright,” you sighed, “let’s get you on the mend, big guy. I’m thinking a cold washer, some soup, and lots of water for you.”

You, of course, held true to your promise. You felt that you were obligated to—he’d practically bent over backwards to accompany you through your own healing process, whether you liked it or not. It would be cruel of you not to return the favour.

Johnny was not, by any means of the phrase,ba willing patient. He seemed to be outright adamant that he was a) not sick and b) able to take care of not only himself, but you at the same time. Of course, he had said this to you with his head in the toilet and you kneeling next to him, rubbing his back as he hurled once more.

“Honestly, Johnny, it’s fine,” you said, running your fingers through his now shaggy mohawk, as he rested his head against the seat of the toilet, eyes half closed. “You did the exact same for me, if not more; I’d feel bad just leaving you to fend for yourself.”

Johnny hummed, his eyes slipping closed as you scratched the back of his head. “Don’ want ye ta get sick, bonnie,” he murmured, “I’d feel worse than I do now if I did.”

You couldn’t help but sympathise with the man; he clearly cared a great deal for you, which at one point in your time spent together, confused you greatly. Why had this great big soldier that you didn't actually know all too well insisted on taking care of you, to the almost obsessive degree of moving into your home and following you around like a shadow, or guard dog?

You had to practically drag the man out of your kitchen and back to bed when you came home to him attempting to cook. You say attempting, because his eyes were half open, and he kept putting the knife down he was using to cut garlic to go blow his nose. He hadn't gotten very far in his cooking adventures.

"Lass!" he called, his voice pinched and nasally. "Go put yer feet up, 'm makin' soup for us!" His enthusiasm was punctuated by a rather loud, honking sneeze, and you grimaced at the thought of how much food he'd likely already contaminated.

"I'm good, thanks, John," you said, gently, reaching around him to grab the knife from his hand and put it down. Placing your hands on his shoulders—ignoring the way he seemed to lean affectionately into your touch—you guided him over to the couch. He would still be able to see you at work in the kitchen, which would satisfy his guard dog tendencies, and would be off his feet and relaxing, satisfying your own anxieties about the cleanliness of your kitchen. "You stay here and just chill out, I'll handle the cooking, honestly."

Johnny, a little affronted at being kicked out of the kitchen, and probably delirious, went to stand up. Within an instant, he was hit with a wave of light headedness, and stumbled into you. You were quite frankly amazed that you didn't crumble under his weight, as you guided him back down to the couch. You left your hands pressed against his chest for just a moment—in your mind it was a preventative measure to refrain Johnny from getting up again, feeling his pectorals was merely a side effect—before straightening up. "Stay," you said authoritatively, pointing at the sickly man before you for good measure.

You made the soup to the comforting sounds of the TV on low volume and Johnny's grunting little snores, tasting it every so often so that it was to your liking, but making sure to cut the onion up small—Johnny didn't like onions, the big baby. You left a bowl to cool on the counter for a bit as you tiptoed over to Johnny's sleeping form on the couch.

He looked so peaceful; curled around a cushion, one arm under his head, his lips parted just so, curls from his overgrown mohawk trickling down his face, eyelashes pressed against freckled cheeks, stubble covering those scars on his chin that you always thought about tracing with your fingers as you lay awake at night, listening to his snores.

You reached out longingly, a finger just barely brushing his chin before Johnny's eyes shot open, and he grabbed your wrist with a speed and force that made you cry out in shock. His eyes softened as he realised it was you in front of him, and he cooed, bringing your hand up to your mouth to kiss your knuckles.

"Ye scared me, bonnie," he whispered, and fuck if that groggy whisper didn't make your cheeks heat up. Maybe you'd caught his fever.

"Soup," you said simply, pointing to the dish on the counter. There was no way you were flustered. Absolutely none.

"Soup's ready, is it?" he asked gently, the words muffled by your knuckles still pressed against his lips. "Yer gonna have ta feed me, lass; I cannae feed myself, my arms are too weak, I'm too frail ‘n weak."

If you were in any right mind you would have called his bluff, given the speed at which he grabbed your wrist, but unfortunately you were too busy turning beet red at his lips still brushing against your skin. They were so soft. You had definitely caught his fever.

Feeding Johnny soup was surprisingly more difficult than you initially expected. This was mostly because while he kept saying he was too weak to possibly feed himself, he kept trying to grab the spoon from you to feed you.

"Johnny, don't!" you had cried out for what felt like the umpteenth time that evening. "You're sick and you've eaten off that spoon, that's so gross."

Johnny, seemingly unconcerned with possibly spreading his germs, shrugged and continued to try to force feed you soup, even adding plane noises to further entice you. It was, in fact, not working. "Ye need sustenance, let me feed ye, bonnie."

"What happened to not wanting me to get sick too, hmm?"

"Changed my mind—we die together like men."

Once you had finally managed to feed the sickly goblin of a man, it was time to put him to bed. This also meant breaking the news to him that you would not be sharing the bed that night.

"Whaddya mean?" Johnny asked, incredulously. "Who am I supposed to hold when I sleep?"

You sighed, hands on your hips like a tired mother. "A pillow or something? Look, Johnny, it's just one or two nights, I'm sure you'll survive."

Somehow you managed to get Johnny to agree, and you went and slept on your lumpy little couch. It was a little colder without having the living radiator sleeping next to you, but you managed.

You woke up the next morning with your arm hanging off the couch, with someone holding it. Peeking over the edge of the couch to look, you were greeted with Johnny's sleeping face once again, your hand held in his, pressed to his mouth. You had to physically restrain yourself from crawling down there and wrapping yourself in his arms, instead choosing to gently release your hand from his grip.

"Johnny, I'm sorry, but you reek—you need to step like three more steps away from me or have a shower, like pronto." Johnny had pressed himself against your back as you worked in the kitchen, having no real concept of personal space even when ill.

Johnny huffed and puffed like a petulant child, refusing to step back from you. "Been so weak though, bonnie, cannae wash myself. Might need ye ta wash me."

"I am not going to wash you."

How you ended up in the shower with Johnny, both of you more naked than you'd like, you'd never know. All you knew at that current moment was Johnny asking you to wash his dick.

"It's not gonna bite ye, lass, ye dinnae need ta worry."

"That's actually not what I'm worried about, Johnny."

You had already washed the rest of him, his skin covered in soap suds, and you were absolutely not enjoying the view. Definitely not.

'Just do it, it's for a good cause, I'm sure. He helped you, just return the favour! It definitely isn't weird, and is very normal actually. Nurses do it all the time!'

Mustering up what little courage you had, you reached down with a sponge and began to wash his lower stomach, gradually working your way down bit by bit. You made it your mission to not look at it or Johnny, keeping your eyes trained instead on the wall beside you.

"What good are ye gonna do starin' at the wall? Gotta look where yer scrubbin, lass." With a heavy hand on the back of your head, Johnny guided you to look down, directly at his dick. This definitely wasn’t doing anything for you. What was worse, was that it was pointed directly at you, twitching any time the sponge got just a little too close to it.

"You're hard."

'Nice going, captain obvious; got any other astute observations up your sleeve?'

"Well, it's a very normal bodily function, lass, nothin' ta be afraid of. Though the view I've got certainly isn't helpin' things."

If you weren't uncomfortable with the situation before, you most certainly were now. It didn't help that you were definitely going to have to dig through your drawers for your vibrator after this. For unrelated reasons that definitely weren't related to Johnny's dick.

"Fine, fine, fine, let's just get this over with." You ran the sponge across his length, stopping immediately when he grabbed your wrist and hissed.

"Not with the sponge, lass! Steamin' bloody Jesus, are ye tryin' ta kill me? Use somethin' softer!"

Unless you counted the toilet scrubber, you didn't really have any other cleaning implements in the bathroom at your disposal. Johnny seemed to notice your hesitation and grabbed the sponge with his other hand, dropping it on the floor of the shower.

"Ye can just use yer hands, love; nothin' wrong with that."

Plenty wrong with it, actually, according to you, especially with that sweet tone his voice had adopted to guide you. But, it wasn't like he was going to let up any time soon. You held your breath as Johnny steered your hand along his dick, not bothering to question the fact that he could suddenly use his hands again, instead keeping your attention glued to your hands. He guided your hand to its base, and you ran your fingers through the curls in some sort of attempt to keep this strictly professional. You were here to clean. Nothing else.

Of course, you could only do so much to the hair at the base of his dick, there was still the elephant (dick) in the room to consider: would washing his dick for him essentially be like jerking him off?

You got your answer pretty quickly in the form of the grunt he made as you finally began to properly wash his dick, your hand, covered in soap suds, gliding up and down its length. In all fairness, there wasn't really any way to wash his erection that didn't bring him any pleasure. It was just incredibly awkward.

You huffed. "I'm not washing your dick if you're going to make sounds while I do it. It's clean enough." You let go, letting it twitch and throb at the absence of touch, and Johnny whined.

"I cannae leave the shower all pent up like this, bonnie," he groaned, taking a step towards you, his dick moving with him. You tore your eyes away in exchange for looking him in the eye. Horrific mistake on your part, the combination of wet curls and those kicked puppy blue eyes was a double whammy—you'd do anything those eyes told you to. "I cannae deal with it myself..."

"There's no way I'm doing that."

"Please, lass, ye cannae leave a poor, sick man hangin' like this."

"I can and I will."

"Please..."

"... Fine."

You knelt before the man, a little uncertain about the position, but eager to get it over with—Johnny seemed eager too. It seemed that the minute your hand even grazed his aching dick, he was buckling in the knees and holding the walls of your shower for support. The tip of his dick wept petulantly, beads of precum dribbling from the slit, only to be wiped away by your thumb.

You weren't a prude, you'd slept with people before and you knew what you were doing, it was just... a little weird to do this with someone who was essentially your roommate. Who slept, pressed against your back in the same bed as you. Who held you hand any chance he got. Who grew jealous of any man who spoke to you. You were starting to think it was a bit of a stretch to call him your roommate.

"Come on," Johnny whined, wrapping his hand over yours and thrusting into it, impatient as ever. It was mesmerising, the way the head of his cock, pink and weeping, glistening in the shower lights, would peek through your closed fist and retract again, Johnny grunting above you, his eyes closed and head thrown to the ceiling. "Fuck, been waitin' for this, bonnie. Yer hand's so soft."

You didn't respond, stuck between feeling turned on and horrified. Johnny was fucking into your hand with unbridled enthusiasm, and you were there for moral support, you supposed.

"Ye look so good on yer knees for me, lass, so pretty for me."

At least he was nice about it. You didn't mind all that much, you’d decided. It wasn't like you had a particularly bad view either, staring up at Johnny's naked form, water trickling down his hairy chest, down his stomach and into his happy trail. Big blue eyes stared down at you longingly, raking across your body as if you were his and his only.

With a grunting moan, Johnny came, white hot ropes dribbling down your forearm as he thrust into your closed fist, his hand tightening around yours. With a shuddering sigh, he sank to his knees in front of you, and laced his fingers around yours. Bringing your hand up to his lips, you were met with the familiar sensation of Johnny kissing your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours. You were left in silence.

"Thank ye, bonnie," he murmured against your hand, staring at you through his lashes. "I'll pay ye back, I promise. Let's get ye cleaned up, aye?"

#john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #soap x you #johnny mactavish

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1495-gauge · 2 months

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You're a medicinal apprentice of the Pearl clan, and today, your clan found a ghost-touched elder out in the snow.

It's your job to help him, even if this too tall man, covered in strange clothing, is babbling in tongues. His hair is a dull grey, his eyes shine vacant, and his extremities are in desperate need for treatment of frostbite.

He's got a head wound. The other healers, you hear them discuss how that must be making it all worse. He looks deceptively young — but he can't be, eyes glowing like a man with a claim on his soul.

None of you know where he could have come from. You're surprised the patrol didn't think he was a zoroark. They probably did. But as you pump his fingers, encouraging sluggish blood back into them, you can feel he is very, very real.

It's a duty, to serve those older than you, even when they're marked like this. The ghost-touched end up like children, tantrums and illogical and lost. Until the ghost that caused it finds the light of the fire it left behind their eyes again, until it can steal them away forever.

You are spending a lot of medicinal resources on a man who will certainly not last the winter.

You believe it's compassion. The clan takes him in, and when he finally remembers a few real words, they welcome in Ingo, to make his stay, however short, kind.

But it's not as short as you expect — as anyone expects.

Each passing day, his twisted words resolve slowly into real language once more. Strange utterances still pepper his speech, but he's becoming knowable. He communicates, his memories have been robbed from him. And everyone believes him, because what else could leave a man so old unable to fend for himself?

You're worried for him. He doesn't remember to be cautious. You patch up his cuts and scrapes he develops from exploring the outskirts of camp, it's spring and he's still here. It would be something to rejoice if his eyes didn't still glow. If his fate wasn't still so very clear.

It's cruel, to draw it out. None of you want him to leave, this kind old man who has forgotten everything, volume control especially, but who plays with the children and does his best to relearn tasks and is that sort of gentle that can only be a product of experience, however lost. None of you want him gone, but it's cruel that the ghost coming for him is taking its time. Letting him regrow a life for himself. Letting others become attached.

You can see how everyone is thinking it, when they look at him more with pity, when they keep a bit of distance. You have no choice, his designated healer now, and he certainly comes to your tent regularly. Not just for healing, but with berries as gifts, little wood carvings that look like they were made by a child as apology for all the work he makes you do. You cannot reject any of it, and the ties anchoring you to this lost soul grow stronger.

You'd feel resentful, but you can't.

Time passes, and come summer, his penchant for being unafraid of the wildlife becomes a problem. He ends up bringing home a gligar, getting poisoned so often he becomes the sole user and contributor to your pecha stores. They may as well be housed with him, but he seems to enjoy checking in on you while halfway to his deathbed due to his companion's stinger. Over time, he comes in less, less due to his companion gaining better control, more due to his own developing immunity.

The day Lady Sneasler chooses him as her warden, many wonder if there was a claim on his soul at all.

But you can't forget how he came here, eyes flashing in the light, bereft of language and life and skills. Even now, he is often nonsensical, well meaning but lost. Meant for the next world.

He takes to it well, and survives to the next winter, and the next, growing his impossible team of companions. You've never seen anyone guide pokemon in the way he does, and you wonder how much of it is that insane lack of fear that could only be caused by having his soul unmoored and his former life stripped away.

When the sky breaks open, the nobles frenzy. You have little time to worry about your favorite patient, because instead you're treating wounds from pokemon that should have never hurt anyone.

He starts to guide people, showing up in the morning, taking them where they need to go — especially through the highlands. From what you've heard, the rift has made the pokemon there untameable. You worry for him, but all you get are reports of how he must be remembering his past as a fierce warrior, because how else could he so confidently command pokemon and people alike? How else could he face off and win against alpha pokemon that attack his caravans, make them his companions as well?

He uses the capture devices that the foreigners in the fieldlands do, and one night, he shows you how the pokemon can escape them on their own — they're more for ease, he says. It's much easier to carry his team like this. You imagine the towering pokemon he's showed you being led through camp, and you agree the balls are a good idea.

The sky turns red, and you don't hear from him.

The sky turns blue, and you don't hear from him.

But he returns, and says he's remembering, now. He'll be staying down with Jubilife, for a while. Battling, helping the foreigner who fell from the sky and calmed Almighty Sinnoh. He says, he may be able to go home.

You don't let him see how those words could bring you to tears. His clock has always been near running out, you knew this. But he had never seemed to.

Eventually, he does his rounds. Says his goodbyes. He's standing up straighter, seeming younger, a last burst of energy, you think. He thanks you, for everything you've done.

He goes to the mountain, and he doesn't come back.

You erect a little memorial in your home, for the man with eyes that glowed far longer than anyone's ever had before. For the man who loved the world, pokemon, battling. You hope, wherever he is beyond this world, he is happy, and safe. That the man he was and the man he became can reconcile. You thank his spirit, for the time it spent in your life, and the next time one of the clan's elders loses their mind to the ghosts of the land, it's him you think of as you care for them.

#submas #i think about the fact that like. idk early onset dementia would seem like suuuuuch a good explanation for ingo #it was interesting to write an outsider pov #who fundamentally misunderstands the situation. but like. still cares deeply #i also tried to consider how a medical condition like that would be viewed before more specific development of diagnoses and how it would #interact with like... pokemon #anyway hard to explain to your healer that youre just an amnesiac from the future when you look like a classic case of 'dislodged soul soon #to be consumed by ghost pokemon'#my writing #i dont normally do 2nd person... it was interesting

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aladaylessecondblog · 5 months

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i embrace what others fear (good tav x gortash pt 2)

TW: Tav is lonely and one of the voices isn't so nice anymore. Smut.

[previous chapter here]

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to lady gortash, I don't know what you said to the temple but I got to sleep in a real bed with a feather pillow! it felt weird. mother says it's because we was on the road too long and I'll get used to it.

The next three letters were carefully written with the stiff pen strokes of children who were still learning to write their letters but by gum were they going to write anyway.

the teacher says we must say thank you. because there is a publik pubblic a school for everyone because of you. I don't like numbers but we get to play games and i like reading about heroes in the books.

too lady gortash, the new clothes are itchy but they donn't got holes

my flower is not sick anymore! thank you.

When Tav doubted she'd done the right thing, she brought out these letters to ease her mind. Four months had passed since the wedding, and they had been some of the loneliest of her life. Oh certainly she was surrounded by enough people that it need not be so, but her friends, those whose company she wanted most--

--letters were all she had of them, with some colder than others.

You should see what Karlach has done with Moonrise Towers. It's a wonderful if noisy place to spend time, perhaps not best for studying...but I am improving the library. Karlach seems to enjoy reading now she doesn't have to worry so much about setting the books on fire, Gale had written.

We thank you for the restoration of our hideout, but it was not necessary. Please do not feel obligated to shower us with such attentions, especially if (as I guess) your husband may be displeased by it. I am sure you have his concerns very much at heart, Jaheira wrote. But if you travel, I would be happy to see you again.

That sort of thing she had expected from Jaheira, from whom she had never expected that much warmth--she didn't know the woman that long or that well. Shadowheart didn't write at all, but others wrote OF her, and how busy she was learning Selunite magic from Isobel (who was settling into the House of Healing with Aylin). Karlach's letters were always long-expected and always short.

Lot of work to be done, but don't feel obligated to run and help us. You're busy enough as it is, said her last, I imagine you do it to keep out of his way as much as you can. I was in Rivington last month, and they were singing your praises...so I guess you have managed to make something of this.

The only truly warm letter she had gotten of late, from any of them, was from Wyll. She'd written him a letter after Karlach's last, and his reply came with assurances that he didn't see her any differently for what she'd done.

You do what you think is right, you do what you see will help people, and judgment follows. This is unfortunately the way things go sometimes--well I know it. I know I did not sound pleased by it, and really, I wasn't--I don't think anyone was--but I won't judge you for making this deal. You did what you could to save everyone from the tadpoles...including my father. I'm only glad he never knew what I almost agreed to in order to save him.

It did surprise me to hear Karlach didn't inform you she was making a trip to Rivington, especially since Shadowheart came with her...

That had hurt more than Tav thought it would. That two of her friends had been there, had been that close, and hadn't even thought to tell her they were there. She was in Rivington nearly every day for some reason or another...it would have been EASY to get hold of her!

She ached. She ached for a conversation to see how they were doing, for talk of something that didn't have to do with the goings-on of Baldur's Gate, for companionship from those she'd gone through so much with.

But since Gortash, it seemed most of them wanted little to do with her, as if he were a poisoned dagger they were afraid she'd turn on them.

Tav folded her arms on her desk and put her head down. She'd been back in her quarters looking over the letters in her dressing gown, and despite how relatively early in the afternoon it was she found herself tired.

Her mind drifted.

Dealing with Gortash himself had, strangely, been much easier than she thought it would.

Tav did not see him too frequently during the day unless there was some event she was required to join him for. In which case, he put on all the airs and gave off every indication that their marriage was a happy one. A soft kiss on the hand here, a smirking whisper in the ear there...

(She would sometimes hear the ladies at court gossiping about how lucky she was, and the men joking about the hold she had over him)

Had he been Astarion or Halsin she would have been delighted, but as things stood she found herself increasingly hoping he'd stop doing it...

...because she was beginning to enjoy it, and she wasn't quite sure when that had happened.

With as intolerably rude as everyone has been, I suppose I can't blame you for it, Astarion's voice said suddenly, He falsifies affection even better than I did. But do try to remember it's only a trick...

Of course, she thought, of course it's a trick. He wants to ensure he doesn't wake up with a knife in his back.It's not REAL.

Nothing like what you had with us, love. That was something special, something I flatter myself you could never find with HIM.

Gortash had kept to his word regarding the steady flow of coin to do her charitable works, though he did now and then admonish her for not spending more on finery. An Archduke's wife should look the part, he'd said. She had caved just slightly and bought several gowns with a nauseating amount of brocade silk and lace, and to sweeten things further had taken to wearing more gold-colored fabrics trimmed with black thread. An inversion of his own favored color scheme but similar enough that it pleased him.

A thing which followed into their sex life.

That first night Tav had spent with Gortash had set the tone for all of their future couplings and she found (with no small amount of shame) that she enjoyed it. Lengthy days of working at her several causes, or dealing with catty nobles left her mentally exhausted, so yielding without the need to think was...

(And the fact that those lingering voices of her two loves stopped when she was in his bed helped too. Everything painful just...stopped...when she was beneath him.)

Gortash didn't ask it of her very often, either. Usually once a week, sometimes twice. He hadn't been lying when he said he didn't have the typical man's need for frequent sex...at least, not that she knew. Maybe he was going to Sharess's Caress twice a day without her ever knowing. But when he came to her chamber, or ask her to his, it always followed that he was the dominant one--no matter which of them was on top. Soft scolding if she 'disobeyed', praise for doing as he asked...but if she said no to an evening with him, that was the end of it.

I need him to stop making it good, she thought, I need the kindness to stop, I need him to be that vicious evil cunt he's always been.

Why was he behaving like this? It didn't make any sense, but she found herself relaxing over it more and more, growing used to those lingering touches and saucy looks and little orders.

He may not love you, but he certainly likes you, Halsin's voice spoke in Tav's mind, That cannot be a positive thing...

Oh, it is no sin to make nice with the one who could ruin it all if they wanted to, came the reply in Astarion's voice.

But it is to be a bedfellow with evil.

"I didn't want to," Tav murmured, "Believe me, I didn't want to, but there weren't a lot of other options."

You didn't need to go this far, Halsin's voice accused. You could have taken the netherstone yourself.

"He knows how to use them, it was..."

A wounded bird may be caged, but you had the choice, my heart. You have done this to yourself.

Tav took several deep and shaky breaths, but the misery finally overwhelmed her. She burst into tears and sobbed on the desk.

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...shuffling of paper beside her...

Tav shifted in her seat, and realized she'd fallen asleep. The light that had been merely waning outside was now turned to full night, and the room would have been dark if not for the fireplace at the far end of the room. She sat up, mumbling and rubbing the sleep from her red eyes said, "Sorry, Berlina, I...I had a lot to do..."

But it was not the chambermaid beside her. It was Gortash, and he was holding Wyll's letter.

She reached up to take it and he lifted it just a little higher. She didn't think it a good idea to snatch it, and waited--certain anger would be coming, in some way or another.

It didn't.

"Apologies," he said quietly, handing the letter back after he finished reading it. "But seeing as it was from the Grand Duke, I wanted to be sure you weren't planning anything."

"That wouldn't solve anything," Tav replied, rubbing her eyes. "I have no reason to be plotting against you."

"No reason? Really?"

My heart, are you so blind as to shut your eyes to everything?

No, Tav thought, No, I'm only saying that to keep him happy. To make him THINK I'm being foolish.

Good work, darling, Astarion's voice said then, Men like him are easy to keep happy.

"We've an understanding I don't want to jeopardize," Tav finally said, "And if I WERE to plot against you, I wouldn't be stupid enough to use notes."

There was a dark chuckle then, and as she got up Gortash moved the chair she'd been sitting in aside and stood in its place.

"That almost sounds treasonous, my dear."

That tone, Tav knew that tone. There was an edge in his voice but he wasn't angry...he was playing at it. He was testing the waters, to see if she was...in the mood. Much like the way he spoke out of the bedroom, he danced around the main point of their...amorous activities, and never asked outright.

But if she doubted his intent at all, there would always come a touch that confirmed it. Today it was his hands on her hips and a slight push against hers.

"And if it should be? What would the Archduke do to someone who committed such a crime?" She lay her head back against his shoulder--a returning hint of her own. "Would it be off with my head?"

The exhausted grief was still there, and she was eager to banish it, to feel something that wasn't emptiness.

One hand came up, and she felt a slight prick from the steel claws of his gauntlet teasing at her neck.

"It's possible he would be in the mood to forgive. I've heard his day has been full of politics and fools and rebellious fires to snuff out. So," The claw on his glove's forefinger traced over her pulse, "Perhaps if this treasonous woman makes amends, the Archduke could be persuaded to show mercy."

Darling, he's so utterly predictable, isn't he?

It was easy, so unutterably easy, to stay slack, to cast out the doubt, to simply obey.

(She could practically FEEL Halsin glowering at her from some unseen point. When had his voice in her mind turned so cruel?)

To obey evil is to let it win.

"Or," Gortash took a seat in the chair he'd moved, and tugged her down into his lap, "Perhaps that would be too generous, and he should treat a traitor as such."

"And if that traitor thinks she has done right?"

"Then she needs to be reminded," he whispered in her ear, "That HER sense of right is not the one that matters."

There was a slight laugh then.

"The Archduke must think everything belongs to him," Tav replied in a mildly defiant tone. "He should be willing to prove it, if he truly thinks it is so."

In silence Gortash opened her dressing gown and bared her body to the open air; a second later the gauntlet's claws were gripping at one of her breasts.

She tensed slightly, and felt him smirk against her neck as he went on. The claws were a slight stinging pain and yet--and yet there was something about that pain that aroused her.

"No undergarments at all? My, my, perhaps mercy is in the cards after all. But you're being a bit lazy...I believe you'll need to work for it."

She would've reached for his cock but he was still fully dressed with her atop him. She shifted about to at least move her hand over the forming bulge, but Gortash tugged her hand away with his bare one, and placed it between her legs.

"I'd far rather you be prepared to take me," he whispered in her ear, "So go on. Make yourself ready."

The hatred Tav had felt at first when these things would happen was not as strong as it had once been. What good was it to fight, especially when the result felt so good? When she found herself wanting it anyway?

With his hand still over hers, she obeyed, stroking carefully. Awkwardly at first, with occasional little whimpers from the small pain of being groped by that gauntlet. When she thought she was wet enough, she made to pull her hand back--but he pushed it back down.

The whisper that came next was dark, insistent, and by the GODS did it stoke the fire in her belly...

"Did I tell you to stop? I thought you were eager to please."

A slightly tighter grip from the gauntlet, a reminder...

Tav started to stroke herself again, circling and pressing against her clit. She was breathing a little more roughly a minute or two later, when she brought her fingers down and thrust them inside her. A moan sounded off, and she heard a chuckle from Gortash.

The gauntlet moved up, and those claws traced at her lips, pushed just slightly on her lower lip. She opened her mouth and in two of those claws went--gently, but pricking at her tongue. With nothing else to do with it and the heat building in her core, she found herself sucking at the claws.

"Oh, very good," he praised her, "You see, this is what I enjoy coming back to of an evening."

His other hand pressed at the one of hers between her legs, encouraging her to go more quickly.

"I could pay a whore for this, certainly, but...there's nothing quite so sweet as obedience from someone who does it on her own."

A smirk against her neck.

"But this isn't enough for you, is it?"

Tav was zoning out--pleasure was leaping in her gut the longer her fingers teased her clit and worked inside her. The lusty heat was rising, the pleasure along with it and the desperation to race to climax--

Just when she could practically taste it, Gortash pulled her hand away. She squirmed and tried to bring her hand back down, but he wouldn't allow it. The gauntlet was drawn back, two of its fingers absolutely soaked, letting her finally speak again.

"Please--"

"I've decided it's time for you to stop," he said, gripping tightly at her wrist, using the strict tone of voice he always did at these moments. "Are you planning to tell me no?"

"I--"

Tav relaxed as best she could, but the denial of that burning need was agonizing. Fifteen seconds, then thirty...

"Very good," he praised, and Tav couldn't stop the good feeling that came from hearing those words. What WAS that? She didn't know, but she wanted more of it. Wanted more of the almost gentle way that dangerous set of claws were stroking at her neck, the way he was holding at her wrist. Tenderness and a firm hand at the same time. "Now stand up and lean over your desk."

She moved up, her dressing gown still hanging open, and leaned over the desk. Behind her there was a by-now familiar sound--the slight jangling sound of Gortash removing his belt, followed soon after by the sound of shifting fabric.

(Strangely, while he preferred her either nude or close to it, Gortash didn't seem to favor it for himself.)

A sudden thrust of his cock--no warning--forced a moan from her throat as the sudden intrusion spread and filled her perfectly. It was almost painful to want more, and not to get it. The thrusts that followed were certainly pleasurable, but too slow. She wanted, no, needed him to fuck her faster.

But he didn't. Gortash's easy pace stayed just that as his hands moved down--the gauntlet covered hand stayed at her hip, while the other moved between her legs. Just as he gave another thrust he stroked--

It was like lightning in her belly, the sudden leap of ecstasy. Lightning that struck and brought pleasure with it, but left her wanting when it was gone.

"Oh," Tav moaned, "You...utter tease..."

He pulled back and pushed forward, as hard and deep as he could. The fevered sound that it drove from her lips was even more whorish than the first.

"Just what I wanted to hear. Now..." His uncovered hand moved to one of her breasts, and gripping tightly at it he hauled her up and into a standing position. She was leaning against him now, with his lazy thrusts hitting deep enough that she would've let him do anything if only he kept moving.

(She wanted it, wanted HIM, everything he was going to give her)

"Please," Tav found herself begging, "Please, I..."

Gortash's voice turned diabolical, in a way that made her throb, "What do you want, Tav? Tell me. Tell me."

(Why, why, why was she losing control like this?)

He didn't wait for her reply, merely moved the hand he'd had holding one of her breasts down to her abdomen--and now his voice was that familiar, insistent whisper in her ear. "You want a little lord in your belly."

"Please--"

She had never found herself pushed this far before--cried out to be bred in the throes of passion, perhaps, but never did she want it so badly, and never with him.

And then climax tore through her body, a shock of pure unbridled ecstasy that sparked and spread through her body in a rapid surge. She practically screamed out, and shuddered as he kept going through it. Six, seven seconds, more, Tav didn't know; all she knew was that for that short period all was right with the world.

Or at least, she felt heavenly enough to think of nothing else.

Gortash groaned and suddenly stopped--his body gave a shudder of its own--and there was a sudden warm pulse inside her.

For a few moments they stood there, relaxed, basking in the glow of satisfaction. There was a kiss at her jawline, and a soft caress at her belly. Then an amused sort of sound, maybe a chuckle.

He let go of Tav, she stumbled slightly from the shakiness of her legs, and she realized the small wounds his gauntlet had left on her hip were bleeding. She healed them, and after catching her breath could stand up a little straighter.

"Clearly I have been neglecting my duties," he said in a soft tone, "What a terrible husband I would be, if I didn't give you what you so desperately need."

She couldn't respond, but as she retied the belt on her dressing gown and turned around to face him, there was no need.

He kissed her, and for the first time in months she didn't feel so alone.

#smut #tav is isolated and guess whos there to make it better #theyre gonna be so mad but bruh they made it so easy for him #gortash x tav #good tav x gortash #gortash bg3 #bg3 gortash #tav #drow tav #bg3 tav #bg3 smut

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wolfnesta · 2 years

Text

Nesta’s self loathing is a pretty big highlight in her healing journey and by the end of acosf a reader can assess Nesta is doing better mentally—she’s no longer starving herself drinking and having sex with people to numb herself, she’s a training Valkyrie that uses mind stilling and breathing to center herself, has learned to let her walls down especially with Cassian etc.— But really in the end all I saw was how much she still didn’t validate her emotions and above all how she still felt so undeserving. Like how is that healing when the main problem is still there? I don’t know if SJM meant this on purpose and honestly the worst part is we’ll probably never find out. Nesta doesn’t validate herself through out most of her self loathing written throughout the book but I’ll focus on the last part written in the very last few pages of acosf because really this is it. As far as we know this is the ending of Nesta’s so called ‘arc’.

When Nesta sends Cassian away after his mate declaration— where he shouts at her about being shackled to her— this is what SJM proceeds to give us in Nesta POV:

‘Mor had winnowed her here without a question, without so much as a glance of disapproval.’

Notice Nesta thinks Mor should glance at her disapprovingly but why does she believe that? Because she made perfectly valid points to Cassian and had him give her time to sort out her emotions? Instead of this being acknowledged and validated we get this shortly after:

‘she’d apologize for using their bargain to send him away, and not stop apologizing until he smiled again’

I know Nesta loves Cassian and that’s why she’s saying this but I have the impression now that Nesta truly doesn’t see she had perfectly good reasons to hesitate much less see it should be Cassian apologizing to her, first, for making her clearly uncomfortable in public, and then, for lashing out and hurting her. Not only that but we also get this within the same page:

‘but if she did fall… he’d be waiting for her at the top again. Hand outstretched. She didn’t deserve it, but she’d endeavor to be worthy of him’

it’s just so alarming to me. I don’t know if SJM meant to write Nesta this way and call it OK or if she plans on working on her further (which I highly doubt) but not only does Nesta not see where her partner did her wrong but she also feels she needs to work to be ‘deserving’ of him. If that doesn’t scream low self esteem—I just. It’s just definitely not a healthy indicator of one’s mental health. And again let me stress that this is the ending of acosf. After we can presume she’s doing better because, ya know, it’s the ending of her book??? But it gets worse:

‘Her father had died for her, with love in his heart, and though she might not have deserved it then… she would do all could now to earn it. To deserve not just his love, but that of those around her. Of Cassian’

this was literally one of the last sentences in the book. Her feeling undeserving of her father— the neglectful man that everyone can atleast agree was a shitty human??? —And of those around her. Just no. Nesta might have gotten better but she DID NOT HEAL.

Anyhow, I’m aware these characters aren’t real and I myself am surprised as to why I put in so much energy in analyzing the texts that SJM decided to publish, but alas here I am. And a side note: anyone can interpret my opinion in whatever way they wish but my point isn’t to call out any of the characters in particular, but more pointing out how SJM did Nesta super dirty. Really the main reason why I’m still clinging to her future work is to see if she can fix the wrong that she did to a wonderful character she created.

#anti sjm #pro nesta #nesta deserves better #nesta archeron #pro nesta archeron #acotar series #acosf #nesta acosf #I guess part of the reason why I love Nesta and will defend her till death

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thethistlegirlwrites · 3 months

Text

Crypt

Sierra thought she’d seen the worst it could get when she and Pete had to pry silver stakes out of Shay’s wrists with the noon sun beating down on them, and then watched Shay have what amounted to a seizure in the back of their commandeered truck due to lack of blood to heal himself.

That doesn’t hold a candle to what she’s looking at now.

The figure curled up in the corner of the crypt doesn’t look like anything more than a dessicated corpse.

She can’t bring herself to move from the doorway, even though she knows she has to let the medical triage team through.

If Shay hadn’t remembered the bookie from his underground fight days and put the clues together that she was also infected with vampirism, if he hadn’t bothered to try and track her down for Chimera’s pilot program of the pre-fledgling interventions, if they hadn’t found her obituary that listed her next of kin, and if they hadn’t managed to convince the family that they really did need to know where their sister was buried…

Sierra doesn’t want to know how long the vampire in question would have moldered away in this place. This crypt hasn’t been used in almost a century. She wouldn’t have even thought to check it for the vampire they were looking for.

But Shay had known.

There had been only one attack in the vicinity of the cemetery where Josefina Quintero was buried, in the past two weeks since her internment. That meant one of two things. Either the vampire Joey had risen as was hunting in a place that disguised her actual home earth, or she’d somehow forced herself not to feed since attacking a jogger the night after her burial.

For a fledgling, either was a difficult concept to envision. Fledglings, especially non-hunters, generally lack much self control in any respect. Planning a feeding routine that hides their whereabouts is generally an action of a more seasoned, less desperate vampire, and forcing themselves not to feed would take a superhuman control that few vampires possess even at Emma’s age.

But Shay seemed to think that Joey could have done it. He’d told Sierra what little he knew about the self-made bookie while they canvassed the area.

“I knew she had something she was trying to protect. She was quiet. Kept her head down. She made decent money but she was never dressed flashy, never acted like she kept it for herself. I think she was taking care of her siblings. But she never once said anything about them. Never let on that she had any family. Because if anyone there found out about it, they could be used as leverage if someone wasn’t happy with their bets.”

“So you think she’s capable of assuming she’s now a danger to them, and stopping herself the only way she can imagine how?”

“If anyone was going to be able to lock herself away, I think Joey would be.”

Shay had stopped in his tracks and pointed at the old crypt that belonged to the Lucero family. “If she’d be anywhere, it would be there.”

It’s ironic, Sierra thinks, that the final resting place of members of a founding family of the Chimera agency is also the place Joey Quintero tried to save her family from her fledgling self.

The triage team pushes her aside, spreading out a sort of handled tarp on the ground and lifting the vampire’s huddled body. Somehow, she’s still moving. Just a little, resisting touch on the instinct of a wounded animal, but she’s far enough from her home earth, and isolated from it by the silver, that she can’t even sleep during daylight.

Sierra would have the head of anyone who put a vampire through this kind of torture on a silver platter.

But Joey did this herself.

She probably didn’t know what she was going to experience. Not if she didn’t know there are safe ways to feed, alternatives to real blood.

But she had to have known it would be bad.

And chose it anyway.

Shay is standing about five feet from the crypt. Any closer, and its silver would affect him too. Honestly Sierra’s surprised no one’s ripped it all out of the place yet; this isn’t the best neighborhood anymore. But maybe the people around here have got a taboo against taking from the dead. Or are afraid one of the family members got bitten on the job and don’t want to risk letting them out.

He’s watching the triage team running back to their van with a look on his face Sierra has seen all too often in the past couple days.

“She’s just blood-starved.” It’s horrifying, and Sierra might never get that image out of her head, but vampires can starve for years and come back from it as long as they’re fed real blood. More than a few grave robbers learned that the hard way over the years. “They’ll take care of her. Get her back.”

“I should have found her sooner.” Shay’s not looking at her, but his eyes are shining with unshed tears. “A lot sooner.”

“Look at me.” Sierra puts herself between him and the retreating van. “You found her now. I wouldn’t have. I would have assumed the silver would repel her and she’d choose the path of least resistance. Most fledglings do.”

Shay flinches.

“Sorry.” This is…a special case. The last person on record at Chimera who’s had this much control was Emma, who locked Arion out of her head after less than a week of being turned. “I’m just saying.”

“Three weeks, Sierra.” Shay rubs a hand over his face, and it comes away damp. “I missed her by three weeks. She was still human.”

“And you’re proof that being a good person doesn’t have to end when your humanity does.” Sierra says. “Someone who could do that?” She gestures behind her to the crypt. “She’ll be a shoe-in for mentorship. Maira will be all over it.”

“I should have thought of her sooner. Told you sooner.”

“Shay. There was no sooner. The pre-turn program just got off the ground days before she died. We were still looking for potential candidates in rehab programs and homeless shelters. Interviewing vampires like you to see if they knew anyone else at risk.” Sierra shakes her head. “You put her name at the top of the list as soon as you saw the checklist of likely markers and remembered how she reacted to blacklights whenever she came near them at the fights. You had no way of knowing she’d been hit by a drunk.” Honestly, Sierra has no idea how Joey functioned apparently normally as long as she did, if she was infected at least by the time Shay met her four years ago.

No wonder she was able to shut herself in a silver lined tomb.

She’d been crushing every ounce of the venom in her system for years.

“I just wish we’d found her before this had to happen.” Shay swallows. “She doesn’t deserve this.”

“Neither did you.” Sierra puts an arm around him. “But none of us can go back. The only way we can go now is forward.” She takes a single step toward the car, and Shay follows. “We can’t save her life. But we can help her have a good un-life. So let’s focus on that. Can we do that?”

Shay nods. “Yeah.”

(You can read this story and more from this universe on my WorldAnvil here!)

@catwingsathena @nade2308 @the-one-and-only-valkyrie @telltaleclerk @ettawritesnstudies @writeouswriter @the-lovely-wren

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday18 #too weak to move #lady whump #vampire whump #guilt #josefina quintero #shane barrett #sierra aguirre-stoker

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hiraeth-witch-11 · 1 year

Text

Bond to Happen Part 2

Part 2: Meeting Matt Murdock

Warnings: healing injuries, fantastical racism

Word count: 1700ish

You woke up feeling sore, and thirsty. Pushing your eyelids open, you winced at the bright light streaming in through your windows. Wait a minute, you had no natural light in your apartment, where the fuck were you. The events of the previous night slowly flitted through your mind as you struggled and failed to sit up.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice- was that Murdock?- said to your left. Matt walked around into your view, wearing black street clothes with a scarf wrapped around the top half of his face.

“What,” you coughed at the scratchiness in your throat. “What happened after I dropped?”

“I had a friend pick us up and brought you here to treat you. I’m surprised you survived. You lost more blood than you should've been able to live without. You got any sorta explanation for that,” he asked.

“Dumb luck,” you said. Lie. “Thank you, I appreciate the assistance and I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can stand.” You gave an awkward laugh.

“You called me Matt last night. Got an explanation for that?” Shit. That’s what this was about. You had slipped up and revealed your knowledge. You wondered what Matt would do now. You decided to lie, again.

“Did I? I don’t remember that?” You shrugged and grimaced as your stitches were tugged taught from the movement.

“You are lying to me,” he hissed. You obviously weren’t a very good liar if the blind man could see through you. Then again, you knew his other senses were stronger than they should be, so it wasn’t like he was clueless.

“Gimme a second to breathe. I’ll explain.” You didn’t really have any good options and you had no energy to try and see a better path. You took a deep breath.

“I’m a witch, or at least that’s the word most people use. I see things that others don’t. Know things I shouldn’t and try really hard to avoid getting tangled in shit like last night. I’m not going to out you, and even if I did, you could report me for unlicensed magic usage or reckless endangerment or some shit and I would be fucked. They would test me and the evidence wouldn’t lie. I’ve been trying to lie low and mind my business.” You took another breath. “I just want to go home and sleep for a week. I’m not going to do anything to harm you or the people you care about.”

Matt stood quietly for a few moments before removing the scarf from his face. “I believe you. Why did you help Karen if you are trying to lay low?””

“She came into my shop a few weeks ago and I saw danger in her future. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t so I put a sort of trace on her, I guess you might call it. To tell me if she was in real danger. It called me and I came running.”

“You put your freedom at risk for a stranger?” Matt said, just slightly incredulous.

“What was the alternative? Knowingly let someone with that much blood in their future meet their fate alone? I guess she wouldn’t have been. You seem to be her friend?” You asked cautiously.

Matt gave a small nod.

“I guess she’ll be alright then. I should’ve looked closer and not assumed-” Matt interrupted your rant as you realized your almost death would have been useless.

“No, you did the right thing. Those men were going to hurt her and you stopped them before they could get far. Thank you.” He was so sincere, his face so soft and kind.

“No problem,” you said. “ Is she okay?”

“Yeah. A couple bruises and a minor concussion, but she’s had worse. You on the other hand, almost died. I’m guessing your … abilities … are why you are still breathing and why I can hear your injuries knitting themself back together.”

“You would be correct. I’ll heal a bit faster cuz of my inherent magic.”

“You could do a lot of good with those abilities of yours. You could keep your identity hidden-”

“Let me stop you right there, my friend.” You managed to sit up. “I am on empty. I couldn’t move a fucking feather if your life depended on it. I’m going to be out of commission for a while. And even if I wasn’t, I don’t usually have enough energy to do anything on a regular basis.”

Matt looked thoughtful. “I’m sorry to disappoint,” you said sincerely.

“No, I’m sorry for being inconsiderate. If you don’t mind me asking, why are you always running so low? I thought magic users could refuel in different ways and store up their strength.”

“You would be correct. My specific type of ‘feeding’,” gods, you hated that word. “Is difficult for me to do inconspicuously and is very um… not quite intimate, but definitely not something you do with a stranger.”

“You feed on people?” Matt asked, posture stiffening and gaze hardening.

“No! I mean yes, but not like what you are thinking. I’m not a vampire or a soul sucker or anything like that. I don’t hurt people when I do it. I mean I could if I actively tried to, but I don’t do that.” You hurriedly tried to explain something you really hadn’t wanted to divulge.. There was a reason you kept yourself off the registry. It was bad enough to be a witch in this day and age. A witch who fed from people would have to have an active guardian and would live with restricted rights unless they've reached a certain age with a clean record. You never wanted that.

“Explain.”

“You know how people give off heat, right? And you can hug someone and get warm without stealing their body heat and hurting them, as long as you aren’t significantly cooler in temp than they are. It just kinda passes between you and builds up? It’s sort of like that but with life force for me. I feed through touch, mainly. People give off an aura of sorts which is just the energy they are sending into the world. It all is connected in some way and I need it to be able to use my magic and to live. So touching people for extended periods of time would give me energy without hurting them.” Gods, you hadn’t told anyone about your abilities in years. Not since your parents disowned you. You couldn’t find anything on the internet that showed a precedent for a feeding method like yours. Only things about witches draining the life from others to strengthen themselves or bleeding people in a sort of pseudo-vampiric way.

“Then why don’t you feed more often? If it is as harmless as you say, I’m sure someone like yourself could find a willing person to ‘spend some time with’ regularly.”

You blush, understanding what he meant. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried. “I’ve tried that and it doesn’t work out well with strangers. Some of them I can handle a hug from and everythings fine. I can keep myself from hearing and seeing them in ways I don’t want to. Others are just… wrong. They don’t have good intentions or aren't good people and that is enough to push past my walls. It uh, it hurts. Physically. If I move away fast enough, it's just an electric shock. But if they don’t let go, it’s like I’m burning. I’ve spent so much time on my own and moving between places that I don’t have time or the people skills to build a long term connection with others. And I don’t try to find people because I don’t want to risk getting found out or experiencing that overwhelming attack on my senses from someone who my magic doesn't like.”

“How are you still alive then? If you avoid touching people?”

“I get a little bit of juice from what's in the air around groups of people. It's not always comfy but it doesn't hurt like direct contact. I’ll go to a club and sit somewhere for a bit and soak up the energy. Like osmosis. I call it filter feeding. It’s not much, but it keeps my heart pumping.”

You trusted Matt not to turn you in. After talking for a bit longer, you found out that he kept his abilities private as well. It wasn’t illegal in the way you were, but it gave the two of you something to connect over. He didn’t agree with restricting and registering people just because they had both magic and were human.

Vampires weren’t restricted, they managed themselves. The same with most pack shifters. Law enforcement only stepped in if the Alpha’s couldn’t manage their own people. Just about every other supernatural creature was free from documentation. The farthest mandatory registration went for them was putting their species on their driver’s license. If a new supe was made, they would be reported in the next census. Everything else was optional. Why? Because these species fall into the ageless category. Vampires, incubi, succubi, anything that fed directly on people, don’t age. Shifters age slowly, the stronger they are, the slower they age and they often have overlapping abilities or sub specifications like siren, mermaid, or hunter. When the supernatural world went public in the 1700s and later was fully integrated around the 1800s, the ageless were so deeply woven into governments and monarchies. They were the richest, most powerful people, so they made the laws in their favor. The ageless took advantage of the fact that most witches were covenless at that point in time. They turned witches into the new ‘other’ while also carefully cultivating what a witch was. Powerful, multifaceted, generally female, and unpredictable. Those with small magicks like telling the weather from anywhere in the world, hearing heart beats, even something as powerful as healing were just differentials, not real witches. Those who did spells and manipulated the world around them were the real witches.

Things had been going well for the witch community in the recent decades. You’d been hopeful about being able to come out of the broom closet fully one day. But a hateful president quickly demolished all progress and whipped the country into a witch hating frenzy. The current president was working to repair the damage, but it was too little too late. Things would only get worse from here.

Series List

#the punisher #billy russo x reader #matt murdock #daredevil #witch!reader #fluff #angst

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haleigh-sloth · 1 year

Note

Hello shigaraki expert (btw no amount of AFO posting will take that title away from you!) I wanted to ask you, since you’ve talked a lot about Shigaraki’s lack of action/ real goals when he’s isn’t being purported in some way, what do you think he actually wants deep down? Does he want anything? What do you think he will want when he is finally able to decide that sort of thing for himself? Thank you, and btw your art is lovely 🥰

I still feel unworthy of that title ;-----;

Here’s the thread in question I was mentioning

And, yes. He definitely wants something.

Tomura says he wants to destroy everything. He even doubles down on this when he manages to snatch control over his body in the precise moment AFO got a bit to rage-y and drunk on hate juice and lost the upper hand, and says that his origin keeps him present—and that his origin is wanting to destroy everything to do with his house and family.

Except his actual origin says uhhhh

“Somebody, anybody”

“If someone, anyone had reached out—“

So yeah, his origin kept him present alright. It sure did, but right now his denial and doubt about his ability to be saved, about the notion of someone wanting to save him at all, are getting in the way of him realizing (or more like, acknowledging, bc deep down he knows) that he desperately wants someone to reach out to him, take his hand and save him, really save him, save him in every sense of the word:

Not let him destroy everything and just further prove to himself that he was born to destroy and that’s all he can do, and that his family dying at his hands was because he wanted them to. He wants freedom from all of those beliefs because the doesn't want to belief he's just a born monster, someone incapable of being cared about or loved, or reached out to (things he's wanted since he was a kid! even when his family was alive!).

Him deliberately bringing up their chat at at the mall here almost completely recontextualizes that whole encounter as his unhinged way of crying out for help from Izuku (someone he perceives as someone who will save anyone). Also his weird belief that, as a villain, he is someone’s specific villain.

All of these moments point to him just, hoping and hoping for Izuku to do what Tomura thinks he would do, and save him. I need him to expose himself a bit more to say the mall scene is completely unveiled as a cry for help—even though most evidence points to it being so. But that’s where it’s heading with these two.

Right now, deep down, he wants to be saved.

I do think to some extent he wants an improvement in the world around him—but blaming society, while justified, is mostly his way of coping and avoiding the grief of his family’s deaths. He tells himself he wanted his family to die, and so he killed them. He tells himself that his family/house is a result of society being the way it is, so he killed them and therefore blames society for his “decision” to kill them.

Well, he’s not wrong about everything outside of himself, but everything about himself specifically he is 100% in denial and lying to himself to avoid the harsh reality (he didn’t want his family to die), because that grief is too much due to AFO not letting him move on from it properly.

While I do think there is some genuine desire for an outward change for the world within Tomura, that's not going to fix the root of his problems nor is it going to give him what he wants. He wants freedom from his self-hatred so he can move forward.

I honestly don't think he'll be getting to any point any time soon where he is thinking about stuff like, what actually needs to change, and how it should be done. I'd be genuinely surprised if he thought too hard about it post-war within the time span of the manga. I honestly think once he's completely free from AFO, really saved in every sense of the word, he'll want to properly move past his family's deaths so he can move forward and actually heal and figure out who he is as Tenko Shimura.

#shigaraki tomura #bnha asks #anonymous #shimura tenko #bnha meta #been a while since i went off about tomura #miss talking about him in detail #bnha #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku

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ladyslookingglass · 4 months

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One of my Baldur's Gate 3 OCs. This is Divimar, my Lolth Sworn Drow Tav character featured in my Fic "The Crisis of Choice"

Full backstory under the cut for anyone interested. TW: Child abuse, Self-harm, Religious trauma

Divimar (name meaning: Maker of Dreams) was born to a house in the city of Ched Nasad. It was a low ranking house of no real consequence and no strong ambitions. They care about their own self interests and their worship of Lolth and little else beyond that. The one big point of pride was that the noble family boasted nothing but daughters. The only male nobles being the house Patron and the Weapon Master but neither were of any blood relation to the Matron. It was suspected that the family employed a diviner and would end pregnancies if the result was anything but female, though no one would dare say it out loud and there was no proof.

Divimar was the youngest grandchild of the Matron, born as the younger of a set of twins from the houses eldest princess. He was an unexpected birth as his mother had only known of the one child which had been confirmed as female...to birth a second child and have it be male was a shock to everyone.

The Matron tried to convince her daughter to sacrifice the child. To claim some defect or another to be away with what she saw as a blemish on their otherwise blessed family. His mother however resisted, fearing that to do so with a child already confirmed to be healthy, and with no other sons in the House, would anger the Spider Queen. She argued that, being her son and not of the Matron, that his status as a commoner meant he would not reflect poorly on their family. The Matron relented reluctantly and Divimar was permitted to live.

Naturally though...growing up in a family made up of his mother, 5 aunts, multiple female cousins, and then 5 sisters, one of which being his twin,...well...he was in a bit of a unique position of being exposed more directly to things most males would not be so permitted. He spent much of his time around Priestesses and within the temple chambers of the house. In privacy his twin would share with him the many things she had been taught and during their time apart, when he would serve the house as little more then a slave, he spent that time in prayer, reciting and committing to memory the things he was told.

When he reached the age where he would begin his martial training he begged to be permitted to join his sister in the path to becoming a divine servant of the Spider Queen instead, much to the surprise of everyone present. In response the Matron took the boy into her private chambers to "determine the truth of his devotion". There she beat him severely, tortured him, insulted him, leveled all sorts of promises of the pain this path would bring to him and his unworthy self. All meant to convince him of the errors in his desires. When he refused to back down...and continued to proclaim his love for Lolth and his determination to serve her as well as he could...she realized she could not stop him and to continue to try may well bring about her own disfavor.

Angry, she took him to the family sacrificial altar and threw him down before it. She told him he would get his wish and the Spider Queen would accept him...but as a male he had to prove himself truly worthy. He had to sacrifice of himself willingly or She would never accept him. Believing her, he accepted these terms and his Matron took a knife to his face, covering the right side in a spiderweb of deep cuts all centered around his eye...then she told him to remove the destroyed organ and offer it to their Queen. Only then would she accept his vows and place as her servant. So he did. She refused to heal the wounds, stating that the scars were part of his penance. They would mark him as worthy to all who looked upon him.

His time training to become a priest would not be nearly as bad...but as he neared graduation he felt more often then not that he was not standing on his own as Priest as he sought to be. All to often he felt he was just an instrument for the others to use to further their own ends. Just a male. Just a tool to be used and then tossed aside. He determined that in order to stand on his own he would need to remove that which he felt separated him from his peers, the only thing they thought him useful for...so he did with his genitals the same as had been done with his eye. No more would he function as simply a conduit to bring about others desires.

He would stand on his own...or not at all, but his body and his pleasure belonged only to his Goddess as she deemed fit to give it to him.

#art #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 drow #drow tav #forgotten realms #dungeons and dragons #dnd drow #dark elves #lolth sworn drow

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kinetic-elaboration · 3 months

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February 7: The Expanse 1x04

Why would you introduce my beautiful wife Captain Yao just to kill her one episode later??? I will riot in the streets.

Seriously, I really was like immediately attached to her, in a way I haven’t been to any other character in this show yet, and I was all ready for her to be a fave and now she’s gone. Truly a disappointment. Also it makes me kind of annoyed that Cop 2 is still alive because while I had no particular issues with him, having him be surprise alive in the same ep as another, worse, more definitive death… so sad for me specifically.

Second thought: my favorite parts of this show are the world building sections and my least favorite are the action sequences. All the tense life-or-death-situation scenes are really boring to me still. I mean admittedly action is not my genre in general but something about the action scenes in this show just seem particularly… flat, for some reason? I just feel no intensity and no urgency about them at all and I honestly kind of zoned out through them. In this ep, I’m talking specifically about the crew stopping up the wholes in the prison cell, and the run to the escape ship during gunfire.

But the world building is exquisite. I’m really into all the information we’re getting on Mars and how they see Earth—and themselves. Every new bit of information is simultaneously exciting and surprising and unpredictable, and also fits in perfectly with all of the other information, providing an overall picture of the society that feels coherent and real. And this even though we’ve seen very few Martian characters and not yet seen their home world at all.

I was also really excited about all the tech in the dead guy that the detectives were examining (as a side note, probably shouldn’t get attached to her, and I still don’t entirely get what she does, but Octavia is growing on me a lot). It sort of reminded me of Dollhouse in its future episodes except the tech was spread throughout the body instead of being mind-focused. Like, body mods, even data storage as part of the body mods, isn’t a NEW idea but it’s an idea I LIKE and I appreciated how they were developing it here. Also the term ‘gear head.’

I did not really get what was happening with the shootout in the corridor of the Donninger, which ended with that guy getting his arm blown off and then it just healed itself. Part of this is that as soon as the shoot out started I zoned out entirely because as I said, I just cannot care. So I probably missed important information. I think…he was one of the people who boarded the ship? One of the mystery antagonists? His space suit was different than the red-faced Martian ones. But they also called him a mole? Maybe? And something about a weapon that wouldn’t be able to fire. I probably should have rewatched the scene but I wanted to keep going. I also don’t know what it meant that his arm healed itself right away but based on the expression on Holden’s face, I think that’s supposed to be a mystery.

As far as I can tell, the mystery antagonists are OPA-aligned (based on the scene where the guy kicked all the Mormons off the ship he was building, and also the stuff with the guy being tortured in the first couple episodes) but there’s something Extra about them. The arm-healing thing, for one. Maybe it’s Mormon tech? LMAO.

Oh, just remembered. Another thing I like about the world building on this show is how normal Earth looks. Like clearly this is far in the future and there’s a lot of new tech and so on and so forth, and Earth from a distance looks quite different as well, with the degree to which it’s been built up at least in major cities—but it’s not all sleek futuristic houses or minimalism or just sweeping amounts of shiny new advanced entertainment etc. The houses are just houses, the clothes are just clothes, the people still read books and talk about dinosaurs. It makes everything feel more real and believable, and sort of helps ground the (sometimes very far out) worlds of this possible future with the actual world.

I was surprised by the insta-jump to found family among Holden and the crew. His insistence he needed to get back to ‘his people’ was a little meh for me, which I KNOW is completely unfair. The show has objectively earned the right to have him be protective of them, after their recent adventures and given that they’re the last survivors of their ship. But most of what we’ve seen from them has just been infighting… it’s hard for me to feel yet like they actually like each other and would be so deeply loyal. Meh. I don’t know. At least the most annoying of them has bitten the dust. I am not sad about it.

Also WHY are there so many Mormons? Are they like really important or is this just an extensive riff off a sort of joke (even in the future and even in space, white men in suits will try to evangelize you)?

#the year 2024 #2024: fandom thoughts #2024: the expanse

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percyaugod · 6 months

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D-coy AU

Random thought/concept AU?

The technodrome makes an entirely new Donnie when it feels the Krang's intention to take away its helmsman while it keeps the original. He's a perfect replica down to the way he thinks and acts while knowing he's not the original, Just an extension of the original. Except for one major flaw, since the original Donnie is in the prison dimension with the technodrome the D-coy's access to their shared Ninpo is very weak and limited. It takes a few months, but their brothers start to notice something's wrong.

Draxum is the one that figures it out. Him there making sure Mikey's hands are healing. By now they're almost as good as new but he doesn't want to take any chances. All it takes is a glimpse from Draxum to see what none of them could over the past few months.

While everyone else's power has fully replenished since the fight Donatello's is still a mere flicker. Which would mean either a serious sickness or injury that should have him at death's door, or that's not Donatello.

Draxum tries to pretend like he didn't see anything while Donnie heads to his lab. His face must have shown something though, because as soon as the door closed Mikey was asking him if there was something wrong with Donnie. The others overheard Mikey so now they're all gathered around asking questions/demanding answers.

Leo asking about the flicker, doesn't it prove that it's Donnie? Draxum gives possible theories such as whoever it is using some sort of connection to mimic Donatello's appearance and mannerisms. Which, while concerning, would mean Donatello has to be alive for it to work.

Everyone preparing for a possible fight and confronting 'Donnie.' He just admits to not being the real Donnie. Though is honestly surprised by how close Draxum gets to the truth. Draxum takes offense to that surprise.

The others are demanding to know what he did with the real Donnie, D-coy saying he didn't do anything. He was just made to take Donnie's place and that's what he's been doing.

Raph: So you're… some kind of evil clone or something?

D-coy: More an extension of the original self.

Leo: So evil by default.

D-coy: Very clever Leo. That's sarcasm by the way.

Draxum examining D-coy More closely: That is concerning. If you are just an extension your connection to his Ninpo should be far greater, for it to be this weak he'd have to be a rather significant distance away. Do you know where the real Donatello is?

D-coy: Scoff. Of course I do.

There's a long pause.

Leo: You gonna share with the class?

D-coy: Nope. You're not gonna like it and I don't wanna deal with what comes after I tell you.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt au #rise donnie #rottmnt technodrome #D-coy AU

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yuriswitch · 6 months

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there's this one thing that's been bothering us particularly badly as of late, and it's this recent surge in "normal people" going out of their way to mark all evildoers as "abnormal". It's far from the first time we encountered that kind of behavior, and we more or less get why so many people say things like "he's not a real christian" or "she's not a real mother" or "how sick do you have to be to do something like that" or "you have to be abnormal" and so on and so forth, especially when put in front of a shocking news of a particularly gruesome murder or something equally drastic.

It's uncomfortable, and hard to imagine yourself doing that, but you still see a person looking like any other, with all the outward features of a human just like you. I'm not really surprised, that when faced with someone that looks similar enough to them to count as a human, most people immediately separate themselves out by making up some sort of a "difference" major enough for them to be able to re-categorize this uncomfortably human-looking person as an inhumane monster. Completely outside of the realm of "normal people".

The problem is, that what that essentially does is create this assumption that harm is some sort of a symptom of "not being me enough syndrome" that ought to be treated in some way, or at least dealt with by means of isolation. This often involves throwing insults, accusations or otherwise asserting that the perpetrator must be mentally ill, or disabled, or an Arab or whatever is considered too far away from "normal"

On one hand, this is just another way normal people balance out the desire to be the only thing X in existence (something that we might as well call the "oneness perversion") with the need to recognize and react to any signs of something or someone unusual. Everyone is supposedly the same person, but depending on the degree of "deviation", weirdos like us either have a "sickness" that they believe they can "heal" (thus eliminating that pesky differentness) or don't even count as a human at all.

At the same time, doing this reassures the normals, that they will never have to assume responsibility for anything serious, because they're not "off enough" to do anything other than a minor, forgettable offense. And the way this interacts with both big events like the rise of fascism, with millions of people asserting that the fascists were all abnormal mental monsters from hell, and smaller more personal moments like "mommy loves you so she'd never do something like that" in response to us trying to tell her to stop doing something like that, is a major issue that could potentially result in yet another tragedy.

Unfortunately, the normals would have to acknowledge their capability to commit any harm imaginable and unimaginable, but most of them still seem to prefer comfort at our cost than any conscious effort to change and be a better person. And there's something really shitty about so many people immediately diagnosing all sorts of people from J.K.Rowling all the way to Adolf Hitler (admittedly it's not a particularly long way, but still) with all sorts of mental illnesses - schizophrenia, bpd, psychopathy, narcissism, even low libido and high libido for some reason.

This is really frustrating, because it's the everyday Joes of 20th century Germany that did the Holocaust. It's the standard view havers that radicalized so far right, that tried to do colonialism in Europe, and that were already okay with the concept enough to consider applying it to the "Wild East" as they called Eastern Europe in direct reference to the so called "Wild West" in America.

The serial killers and psychopaths and all the black characters that normals whiten themselves with were busy mentally breaking the fuck down from another day of burning the corpses of all the "abnormals" the nazis were exterminating on a mass scale. It's all wife-loving, dog-having, typical, everyday people that committed all of these atrocities, and we, the undesirables, were their primary targets of removal and eventually extermination. And it's high time the general public admits that and recognizes their own ability to do all evil, including the most disturbing and extreme of acts. If they can't do that, then we will all be doomed one day. Mind my words.

/Yui

#neurodivergent #normal people #evil #rant #cw: genocide #cw: ableism #mental illness

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drifloonz · 1 year

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hmm.. do you have any favourite Pokémon/Poképasta characters? If so, what do you like about them? Or.. if you could make your own Poképasta character, what would their concept or design be? Or name in general, you don’t have to do a fully fleshed out backstory for them. Orrr, what’s your favourite thing about being on the internet or being in a fandom?

i... to no ones surprise, reaaally like steven. glitchys up there, but i think his og pokepasta sort of sucks ( which is not an unpopular opinion ), but strangled red ( specifically strangled red, strangled and doors open are... neat, but sort of badly written and way more stereotypical ) is just... mwah. chefs kiss. stories about grief and abt a depressive spiral that gets worse and worse AND you get to see how he was like before it? soo good. you can argue the missingno plotline in it was unnecessary which i could agree but i think its just cool more than anything else, esp since most pokepastas based on gen 1 use it or other glitches in the 1st gens for horror a lot, which i think is interesting. missingno can be many things!

i like to think logically that glitches and stuff in game prob exist in the pokemon universe as well, since... well.. pokemon can be turned into data. you put them into the pc. missingno likely just exists and is a heavily corrupted pokemon that is not supposed to be there, or a glitch that the pc or something made real.

therefore, miki probably was "healed" because missingno "filled" her "missing data" or something like that, but i like to keep it more vague and ambiguous too. you can do a lot with strangled red and steven, miki, and mike too which just intrigues me. once again read lessons in guilt and grief and faulty on ao3. they explore this and steven, mike, ( and daisy who doesnt get enough attention ) in a way i 100% agree with and enjoy .

as for other characters i obviously enjoy glitchy but i much more enjoy the like... post-fnflull version of him cuz' in his original popularity he was just sort of prettyboy red who was also a creepypasta but ppl barely drew him like he was one ( i like fnf lulls interp bc of how his body constantly stutters and how when hes irate his mouth just stretches and shit like that. gmod ragdoll with broken physics ass mf ). also as said before his pokepastas sort of forgettable but i do like the concept of a red stuck in a game self aware bc im allll for that shit. i am an IHNMBIMS fan, i love AM, i love self aware AIs that feel trapped and take it out on every1 else or cope with it in Some Way... very interesting concept, idk.

honorable mentions for pokepastas that ppl prob know that i do not talk abt a lot that i like the writing or concepts for are DISABLED and Hell Bell.

hell bell you could argue has a stereotypical 'pasta ending of "ooooh you die in the game you die for real" but idk i eat up the way they did it in hell bell bc the person doesnt die but they sort of do since nobody can see em anymore ( iirc, i hvent read it in a bit ). also uses gen 4 which as someone who started mainline games with diamond and pearl respectively, i enjoy that a lot.

for DISABLED, its not super deep or scary or anything ( ok well its scary for the narrator obviously ) but its another one that just sorta makes me feel bad in all the right ways.

i have concepts for pokepasta aus of my ocs and some side characters but they arent pokepastas theyre just like... ppl who live in the world ( of fnf lull usually since i like to think everything there is connected and coexists somehow ), but i am not original to save my life so i dont think id make an actual pokepasta anytime soon, lol. the closest i got was making a super horrible choose your own adventure where you played as a cubone on deviantart when i was like idk 9

as for internet and fandom stuff, i dont associate myself w fandoms or fandom terminology and unironically i just start to call myself an "enjoyer" of things, bc i dont like being associated w anything... fandom oriented a lot of the time anymore. a lot of fanonization of characters also sucks. i do think the pokepasta fandom has some funny fanonizations though. like yes dilfify that man ( @ steven )

also esp for pokepastas bc i have Hyperfixation Shame. its why i have a sideblog for it, both so it has a concentrated place to go and so no one knows i like it enough to write abt it lol

thank u 4 asking :]!

#wispy chatters

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mazm-imagines · 2 years

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MazM week day 4 prompt for monster! This one I actually like somewhat, maybe because I wasn't being too ambitious. The thing I wrote for it will be under the cut! It's a bit different than what i previously wrote for my other art.

Monster. That was a word the creature had been mulling over in its head the past day or so. It'd been used to being called a monster out in the real world.

But in this tower? The residents have seen worse.

One of said residents was patching it back up. Or at least patching its own patchwork up. Noah had claimed to be a mortician, and while the degree on his cabinet proves so, he had an expertise in another field.

Maybe it's because the creature was an amalgamation of corpses, but Noah was the only one that could truly heal it. Justine helped to sew it up, but Noah was the one that wrapped the bandages and cleaned the wounds.

It once asked Noah why he wasn't afraid of it. His response dripped with apathy. 'I've seen corpses worse than you, frozen over in winter.' But then he said it was useful to him, any sadness it may have felt washed away. Really, Noah couldn't care, Justine couldn't care, nor could El.

Noah was using the creature, no doubt about it. Those cold blue eyes mirrored his cold nature. But the way he smiled, even while saying those horrible things, maybe he was honest?

He still did all these services for it. Even with his crushed bandaged hands, he still decided to patch it up. Demanding compensation of course, but that wouldn't come for a long time.

The reason no one cared about the creature being a "monster" was because they've seen plenty already. The Nepes that terrorized them were far more deadlier than the meek creature.

What constitutes a "monster?" Does Noah know? He knows all sorts of words like "orphanage" and "payment."

Should it ask? Noah was quite the snarky man, every word heavy with derision. Ask him what day it is and he'd give a playful shrug with a 'you tell me.'

As of now, that smart mouth of his had been dead quiet as his focus was on the creature's arm. This is where the perks of being a mortician came in. His room had many random items and vials, all used for the embalming process. And it just so happens to be perfect for the creature.

"Uhm… Noah?" "Yes?"

Noah's laser focus had been snapped by the sudden question, he had the same smile as always. That was his smile of indifference.

His blue eyes reflected through glass locked with the creature's own mismatched ones. They always scared it, but he was just a human. His hands stopped working to pause at his name.

"What does monster mean?" "You're joking? Right? That's funny."

It caught him by surprise, surely this creature would know what a monster is.

"No! I'm really not, I promise!" The creature desperately begged. It didn't actually know what a monster was, only that it was a bad thing to be. Noah continued to work once he realized it was no big deal.

"Hm, alright. I'm surprised you don't know yet but, by a technical definition, a monster is a large ugly creature."

Ouch, that was a stake to it's heart. Now it understood why people called it a monster. But something still didn't make sense.

"I see… but… in books I've seen humans get called monsters? I don't get it."

"Eh? How annoying. But if you want another definition, I could say it's someone heartless and brutal. Someone so utterly vile they wouldn't even stop for others."

"I see…" The creature had a heart, stolen but it was something. Functioning? Probably not.

"You still don't understand? Don't think about it so technically."

He still smiled the same as always. As the last staple was finally put into place, he piped up one more comment. "You're a monster." "I know…" Of course he would say something miserable.

"But you're also not. You're useful to us, and you should keep helping us."

"I'll keep helping you too. I don't care if you're a monster, I'll use you either way. Use me too, but don't get comfortable with asking favors."

What does one say in a situation like this?

"Thank you?"

"Hah. That'll be 500."

"I don't have that money!"

"Well then I'll add it to your fees."

Same as always.

#mazm #mazm thy creature #mazm week #the creature #mod gwaaaaar #gwaaaaar art #gwaaaaar writing

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electrivolt · 2 years

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@rockheadcd asked : [ WAITING ] with Roark simply having hunched himself over, laying into the side of the bed. The chair is hardly comfortable curled up like that, but at least he feels.. somewhat more content resting against one of the few definitely confirmed uninjured part of Volkner's side, just pressed lightly against his hip. Although exhausted himself, Roark's gaze is half-lidded, half-asleep, but he can't bring himself to sleep. He hasn't let go of Volkner's hand since Palmer left the room the night before.

reunions / accepting .

To what should’ve been no surprise, the initial burst of adrenaline had been nowhere near enough to keep Volkner going through the worst of both old and new wounds, some not given the time to heal, some simply more serious than they could appear at a first glance, all together a critical enough condition as soon as he could no longer push his limits and it all crashed on him as it caught up with his exhaustion.

It was, quite honestly, a surprise and somewhat of a miracle, to see Volkner still alive through the hell he has lived and carried with him through every scar and bleeding injury. More so to see him somewhat steadily recovering over the next few days, if slower than what would’ve been ideal or comfortable— but there was only so much his body could fight against in a condition such as his. Count your blessings, and all that— the infection-induced fever being some of the worst he was facing truly did count as a blessing, difficult as it may be to watch his distress in his sleep and unable to do little more than wait and watch, wait and hope. A far cry from the bloody mess Roark found underground, one foot already getting close to the grave between the blood loss, possible shock, cracked ( broken perhaps? hopefully not ) rib and who knows what else.

Pulling himself back from that was a feat in itself, any semblance of coherent thoughts missing entirely as the worst of the infection ran its course and fever worsened the torture on the body. The few waking moments in between burning skin and aching wounds were all lost on Volkner, confusing glimpses in between Sinnoh and Hisui, yet still unsure of which was which or who it was talking to him anymore. Clarity was a losing battle at times, and yet a battle he refused to give up on nonetheless, for one reason or another.

When he finally manages to pry his eyes open after so long, that is a struggle in itself, the temptation of slipping back into dreamless sleep almost too great to resist. Then, the sliver of light making its way into the room is enough to force him to squeeze them shut again, enough to feel the beginnings of a headache rise amidst the heaviness of his own body and the dull pain still worming its way through the hazy awakening. There is a twitch of his fingers at best when he tries to move just enough to settle, pins and needles making their presence uncomfortably known, yet still too dizzy to do much else but let out a weak attempt at a groan, sort of turning enough to press his cheek into his pillow as if that would be enough to quell the pain— oh. Oh, he isn’t alone, that is— how out of it was he, to not even feel the hand holding his own?

“R... R-Roark...?”

And he tries to call for him, through a hoarse voice barely scraped out of his throat, already feeling the stinging in his eyes as he tried to blink away newfound tears. This... the hand in his own— he could feel it. The warmth that he lacked, missed for so long. ( that fake, that mockery held no warmth, only deathly cold of phantoms long gone )

The pain was a relief, suddenly. There was no pain in dreams. Pain meant this was real, meant this wasn’t another of those dreams that only turned into nightmares once he woke up cold and alone.

“I-it’s... really y-you...”

This was all real. He was home. He was home, safe and Roark was there. The smile on his face was shaky, almost too much of an effort to put up through all the pain he was still trying to tolerate, but it was there, a genuine one after that year of loneliness.

He was home. His real home. Maybe it would be alright now.

#〔 ask . 〕 ϟ i will not fall ; i will not fade ; i will take your breath away .#〔 ic . 〕 ϟ i will shut the world away .#〔 roark / rockheadcd . 〕 ϟ i'm going to want you till the stars evaporate .#// actually here die

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shadowonwater · 1 year

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Pokemon Scarlet Playthrough, part the 5th: I beat up a fire breathing car, went to school, and beat up a streamer's pets

So I'm gonna try doing this one in shorter segments, see how it goes.

Right now I pretty much have only just defeated the 1st Star Base. I'm just exploring around at the moment, thinking about going to a nearby city that has a gym but I should talk to Nurse Joy first. I'm also thinking about going back to the school to try to figure out what those [blank] class is now available means.

So the first battle with the kid at the gate was mixed. He only had one Pokemon but he kept using roar whenever I had a Pokemon with a type advantage, which was annoying, but I do respect. Also I realized that I was like, just, at the correct level to be doing this. So I was getting a little worried about this might go.

The raid itself was easy, defeating 30 Pokemon in i-don't-remember-how-many-minutes was a breeze tbh. Two of the Pokemon I was using had a type advantage, and one (my Flamingo) was just kick ass in general and doesn't need a type advantage. I just ran around, let them out, and the Team Star members Pokemon would would taken out pretty quickly, no healing needed.

Mela was a lot harder though. I was a little underleveled for her. I used Jimin my Clodsire against her Torkoal. I can't say it's the usual way people win but Jimin's Poison Point really came in clutch. It got poisoned right away. 2 attacks from it would have taken out Jimin, but I just kept healing him every turn, stalling out the poisoning until her Torkoal fainted.

Her fire car is a different story though. I'm not sure if it's actually a real Pokemon or not, it's kind of wild. After she was defeated in her backstory she was saying something about powering something (the car I think) up with the uhhhh little fire soldier things (whatever they were called) Char-something. I wonder if each of the leaders has one. That's charged up with different energy types.

Anyway, I had a lot of trouble with this one. All my Pokemon were a lower level than it, and it kept using screech, and just going faster and faster, even when I used a move that lowers speed, it did nothing.

I tried to have Jimin out for awhile to see if Poison Point would activate, but I don't think it works on a car. Seems to be the sort of thing that's part steel, but idk. It was fire though. Fire type I mean. I didn't really get that far w/ Jimin before he was knocked out. I sent out Wiggles the Wiglet next, I got one attack in before it was also knocked out. Then I sent out what would turn out to be my hero, Wowza the Flamigo.

At first I did a double kick, but then realized I should use low kick. Low kick is said to do more damage on heavy opponents. Cars are heavy! Wowza did get knocked out but I revived it while letting my grass cat take damage. I sent Wowza back out fully healed. Something that surprised me was that the car did Flame Charge, first and only time I ever saw it do that during the battle. Well I just kept using low kick, it was 2-3 time of doing that and I won. If I have to fight more cars, I should keep low kick in mind.

I was surprised by how chill miss-giant-boots was after I defeated her. She gave me her Fire/Star badge (ha ha Firestar, any Warrior cats fans here?). According to "Cass" they lose the right to be the boss after giving away the badge. Does that mean I'm the new boss? I want to be the new boss. I'll tell them to do cool public art like murals if I was in charge. I'll be "Alright, you guys want to be punks? Well it's time to be artsy punks! If you have a problem with 'The Man' I want to see it represented via art!"

Anyway "Clive" saying something about rumors of Team Star "plotting against the school" gave me the heeby jeebies. Y'know as an American. We got a nasty history of students "plotting against the school". Well good thing it was rumors. But what is "Operation Star???" I really want to know, it seems important.

Anyway am I very certain now that "Cass" is Pennny. What with Penny being the "Supply Dropper" and all. Se even literally said she was a hacker! It was you who hacked my phone. Anyway, got nothing else for now, see you when I play the game more.

Oh! I just remembered to say how much I love it when they say "Hasta la vi star" it amuses me greatly.

Okay so my 2nd session ended sooner than I would have hoped because I needed to charge my Switch, lol. But I'll tell you want I did during that time.

I asked the Pokecenter lady where I should go next and she told me to go to the Electric Gym. Worked out well because that was already the direction I was heading.

Lots of electric types on the way, ran into a hoard of Magnemites. So I just started whaling on the horde with Jimin, ha ha electric immunity. I'm aalmost surprised I didn't run into a shiny with the amount that I beat up. The Electric Gum leader is going to have a rough time with my little buddy, here. He's now almost level 30, the highest level on my team. I once considered him potentially replaceable but that was more when he was a Wooper. He's probably staying on my team for the rest of the game, he kicks ass.

Someone who I don't think will stay on the team is Wiggles the Wiglett. I hardly ever use him and when I do he gets taken out very easily. He has very low HP. I'm pretty sure he evolves so I'm at least keeping him till then. (ok I checked he does evolve and it should be soon) Depending on how well he does after evolving I'll consider keeping him but probably not.

Wiggles replacement will likely be this dolphin I caught. It reminds me of the dolphin model from Animal Jam so I named him Jam. It reminds me of the dolphin I had in particular because of having similar colors as well as a swirl pattern. I've seen images of the dolphin around, apparently its kinda broken?

Also Tinkerton evolved! They now have a bigger hammer and a ponytail! I've been using it for fighting Pokemon I don't want to faint because it has Metal Claw and Draining Kiss, which are both pretty weak moves.

Also I saw the Dung Beetle Pokemon for the first time, a trainer had it. I've heard mention of it online, but this was my first time seeing it.

After healing at the Pokecenter in the city the Electric Gym is at I flew back to the city the school is in because I wanted to check out those Classes, to see what they were. I was about to do one when my Switch ran out of power, so I guess I'll see you again after doing the available Classes.

Ok so I haven't done the classes quite yet, I decided to explore the school first and see what the npcs have to say. I read the books and some of them have some interesting things to say.

The Occulature Magazine has info about the paradox Pokemon. It amuses me that, while I know these things are real, as far as most people in the Pokemon world would be concerned it's just a weird tabloid magazine, it certainly reads like one. Makes me think of the song Midnight Star by Weird Al. In particular the mention of the "Scarlet Book" has really caught me attention.

There was a book that referenced an event from the SWSH games. And also a book that seems to reference PLA to a degree. There was a book that had a student registry but the last few pages were torn out, that seems important.

There were some books that seem to be about characters. There was a book talking about the Bug Gym Leader and her bakery. And a book about a snow boarder, who I assume is the Ice Gym Leader that appeared in the trailers. There was also a book about a musician who I assume is also a gym leader? I'm guessing ghost. The mention of bringing a dog back to life by his singing is wild tho. I'm guessing that dog is the fire/ghost one we saw in a trailer? Also the book's use of slang was very amusing to see in a Pokemon game.

I talked to some of the teacher's while they were hanging in their class. I've chatted a bit with the nurse, not much comment there. The director though? lol. He wanted my character to explain a slang word to him. That is very funny, amuses me greatly. It's also funny seeing the message about growing closer to the teacher, it reminds me of dating sims.

Also got False Swipe from Jacq. I think I accidentally glitched him a little. You see I was trying to see if I could click on the little diorama, to see if there was any flavor text, but instead I started talking to Jacq for the first time, causing a cut scene. My character model was teleported to be in front of him, but his body was pointed in the direction of where I was. So he was still facing the wall while talking to me, a little rude Jacq.

One other thing, some random kid said something about Penny that implied she's returning to school rather than being a new student. I think I remember some other character saying something similar. I don't know what happened to her that made her stop coming to school, but I'm guessing it has something to do with Team Star? I'm guessing her connection runs deeper with them than I initially thought. Anyway gonna take the classes now~

Art Class 1: I thought this one would be interesting to take as an irl art student. Hassel opens by saying that many people there would forget whatever they learned in art class. I won't Hassel, it is my intended career. But he does have a point about mandatory art classes. Also I agree that the small beauties of the world are something to behold and treasure.

Art Class 2: When I saw the Gible I was like <3 <3 and when it did the Tera, my immediate thought was that we would be drawing it. Or that's at least what would have if this was a real art class. Instead the teacher just talked about the Tera phenomenon.

Biology 1: Jacq explained the Let's Go Together function. And talked a bit about why Pokemon aren't let out of their ball indoors. I understand but I think it's shame. I do find it funny that a lot of students violate that rule anyway tho.

Biology 2: Jacq talked about picnics and Pokemon eggs. I found it funny it gave the option to say Pokemon are born from Boxes or Pokeballs. And how relieved Jacq sounded when I choose the correct answer. He said that no one really knows where eggs come, c'mon lets be real, they do, Gamefreak just can't really allude to where they come from because it's a kids game. And he also said Pokemon entrust us w/ their kids. Reminds me of stories of cats and dogs leaving their babies with their human to watch while they go do something else.

Home Ec. 1: He talks about Meal Powers, can't say I know that much about them but I don't really care about them either.

Home Ec. 2: He talks about healing items. I find it funny that the game treats items just laying on the ground as a normal thing.

Languages 1: Salvatore is a pretty guy. Ha ha, I already took a French Class I know what "Je m'appelle" and "Merci beaucoup" mean. "Popular streamer?" I'm guessing it's the Electric Gym Leader from the trailer.

Languages 2: talking about his classes in general I just find funny from the perspective of someone who knows a bit of French. Because he's just using French everywhere in his speech. Also I find it funny how in Pokemon the word Region sort of accidentally became the word for country.

Math 1: Generally not a math fan, but she's just talking about how super effective moves double the damage. "It makes math fun, even if you don't like the subject" you got me maim. Connecting math to video games like this is more fun.

Math 2: she's talking about shopping, the math involved with spending money. I must admit she got me on the trick question. I was too busy doing math to remember the Premier Balls were a thing.

History 1: Pretty lady. One of her hair strands keeps jumping up and down, think that's a glitch. Oh hell yeah, tell me about that crater. "A certain something" WHAT, WHAT IS THERE. I'm so curious. So apprently people think treasure is there, I can see how that relates to the "treasure hunt"

History 2: "Paldean Empire" :eyes emoji: very interesting story about a dictator sending people in a dangers place to look for treasure. Makes me think of people looking for the fountain of youth and the golden city. btw, it makes smile to see references to PLA on the board.

battle Studies 1: The joke about having a type and Pokemon types is funny. Just basic Pokemon battleing stuff really.

Battle Studies 2: "Wham-Bam Potion!" and "Explosive Healing Wave!" would be great names for cheers, too bad they aren't. Anyway just some info about Tera raids, nothing I didn't really know.

Anyway that's the classes done for now, I just ended up writing about them as I was playing them. There were 2 classes of each and I have two badges, so I'm guessing there's one per badge, and I'll unlock more as I play. Anyway that's it for now, I'll be seeing about facing Iono (that was her name right?) next time.

Okay, this should be my last session before I post this, this has already gotten pretty long already. The city Iono is in has so far been the largest city since Mesagosa. I had a fun time exploring it, altho I got a little lost and completely passed by the gym center.

I was happy to battle Nemona, I'm excited for when she can go all out on me. I defeated her relatively easily. Also Wiggles evolved into Wugtrio, their skin changing from white to red was a surprise, didn't expect that. I like how all the heads are coming out of a single rock.

Well I go for Iono next and she makes me be on her stream and play Where's Waldo with Clavell of all people. He was easy to find the first two rounds, but it took me a little to find him on the last round. I battled some Iono fans between rounds. Gotta say that the PokeManiacs have such a weird outfit. But I guess that's why they are called maniacs.

The battle with Iono herself went well, I used Jimin the whole time, woo-hoo electric immunity. It didn't go by quite as easy as I thought it would though. First she used a flying type so I couldn't use ground moves. Then she used the frog, but while I had a type advantage, it was just really bulky. I took out her Luxio instantly tho. Then she used Mismagious and made it Tera Electric.

Thing is, I knew she had a Mismagious because a friend told me about the gym leaders all having a Pokemon that becomes their type via Tera. And she used Iono as an example. So I knew that ground type moves were useless here. Jimin's Sludge Wave worked just fine though.

Gotta say, I love that Iono is an influencer. I just think it's a very modern thing to include into a Pokemon game and I love that. Also I wonder if the Magnemite on her head are alive? They float off her once and awhile so idk. I loved her defeated animation of her Magnemite flying around her head like stars/birds in a cartoon.

After the battle my Wattrel evolved into Kilowattrel (clever name). I'm not sure if it evolves again or not, but looking at the Pokedex I think it does? There's a single space in between Kilowattrel and Wingull. So unless a single stage is there, it evolves one more time. I'm guessing the name is Megawattrel?

Just as I thought more classes for school became available. I'll do some more of those some other time though.

Saw Crazy Hair Lady again. Apparently she's the chairwoman of the Pokemon league. I suppose I'll be running into her more.

Anyway I was thinking about heading in the opposite direction I came into the town in. I asked the nurse, and she agreed I should keep going that way. So I've been catching a bunch of Pokemon in the area, mostly old ones. I also did my first 3 star Tera raid, so that was cool, the better rewards are nice.

I also saw a Pokemon that I've never seen before, nor heard mention of. A Tumbleweed! I already figured it would be a ghost type considering irl Tumbleweeds are dead. And it is! What a fun find!

I decided to finally switch out Wiggles with something else. I decided on the Rock Salt Pokemon for now. It evolved after I gave it candy to make it catch up to the rest of my team. The Salt Cure move looks really interesting, I do enjoy moves that chip away at health.

Anyway that's all for now, I'll continue exploring this area and eventually fight the Steel Titan.

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet #pokemon sv #scarlet and violet #playthrough #first playthrough #live posting

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