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oswlld · 4 months

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oswlld's monthly wrap up: january

note: i am trying something a bit different this year, so bear with me as i figure out how i want to format this. i wanted to spend more time sharing what i consume, beyond what i rb, and put my thoughts in one place. these posts are okay to rb

The Fifth Season, N.K. Jemisin [started 11/03, finished 01/23] This was originally a dnf from 2023 that i decided to pick up again. My entry point into her work was The City We Became and fell in love with her voice. With Fifth Season, however, I felt like I loved parts of the story but didn’t fall in love with the sum of the whole. I will go more into why in the tags because it will touch on spoilers (mildly!) I still gave it 4⭐️ in storygraph. — The Moth Presents: All These Wonders, Catherine Burns [started 01/05, finished 01/31] I bought this collection from Half Price so long ago, I’ve forgotten what drew me in. Probably because of the Neil Gaiman foreword. I had not heard of The Moth so I went into this blind. Some of the stories made me wish I heard it live and feel the story breathe and beat with the audience. 4.25⭐️ in storygraph.

Flavorful Origins, Netflix [started: 09/28, finished 01/04] I watched s1/s2 in 2023 at various pts of the fall/winter. Finally wrapped up s3 in January and caught up. Unsure if its a complete series or ongoing, but I do hope to return to the series in the future if they do upload more seasons. This series reminds me of the YT channel Liziqi, where they take one ingredient and unravel the techniques and related dishes by region. A great palate cleanser amongst all the other shows I typically gravitate towards. — Last Twilight, GMMTV on YT [started 11/10, finished 01/26] The only show I watched in real time, as it premiered week by week. If I solely focus on the January episodes, for the sake of this post, I can’t say I was happy with the way the final act was handled. If I look back on the whole of it, it’s still really special to me. In fact, there are episodes that still stand as the very best in television, THE BEST. Still licking the wounds inflicted by the finale, though. — Moving, Hulu [started 01/08, finished 01/30] This lured me in by process of dash osmosis, which is the very best brand of entry pt. I am O B S E S S E D with this show, I am singing its praises! It soothed the scars left by the show Heroes. Amongst all the action sequences, espionage, and high school drama is this huge heart beating loud and strong. Lee Mihyun, the way I love youuuuu, the character you are 🤌🏼🤌🏼🤌🏼 Guys, she saved January for me.

Chevalier, Hulu [watched on 01/14] The short runtime (well, short for the current landscape of cinema) did give me pause. I think some of the emotional beats could have been deepened if given 20 more min of his involvement in the rebellion. I think I wanted the betrayal to really cut me to the bone, but it felt like a papercut. — BlacKkKlansman [watched on 1/31] At this point, I would follow John David Washington’s career to the very end. I love his natural charisma. I want to see him go thru alllll the situations and wish this movie gave him a lot more room to breathe. Laura Harrier took me by surprise, portraying the BSU president Patrice. The story came to a very mild end and felt very tame, but the suspense held its own.

Stick Season (We’ll All Be Here Forever), Noah Kahan [first time listening] I originally learned about him when I was in my Lizzy McAlpine hyperfixation last year and heard she was a feature in one of his songs. And then I discovered a duet Noah did with Hozier and knew I had to spend time this month to sit down and really digest his album. WHOA MAN, this is one of those formative moments when music perfectly aligns with my current state of being. Take that as you will. Current top 5: Come Over, Strawberry Wine, Northern Attitude, Halloween, Your Needs My Needs — Natasha, Pierre, & the Great Comet of 1812 [relistening] what else is there to say, this is a mandatory yearly listen when it becomes below 0 outside. When I saw this show live, it was a January date as well so this relisten really got me spiralling. These two albums got me Feeling 🧍🏻‍♀️ on my walks.

Minecraft [game, on Switch] I got this game as a christmas gift and was where I spend most of my waking hours outside of work. I enjoyed watch MC streams on twitch and knew I would enjoy playing on my own. I get it now, I am soooooo late to this game. I think and dream Minecraft. My mountain house and harbor builds? Immaculate. They basic, but immaculate. Now I’m in my fishing era, esp when I have Stick Season playing in the background (nothing else mattered when the sun was rising and the song The View Between Villages played in the bg, it was a religious experience). — Lethal Company [game, on Twitch/YT] My entire month has been hopping from one stream to another, lobby after lobby. This game is so fun to watch and witness how all the mods evolved as time went on. I don’t think I myself would play the game myself, as I am a bit of a scaredy cat, but watching my fav groups play has been a highlight.

#oswlld 2024 wrap up #mine: edits #the fifth season #the moth presents #flavorful origins #last twilight #last twilight the series #moving kdrama #chevalier #blackkklansman #noah kahan #natasha pierre and the great comet of 1812 #lethal company #minecraft #MILD SPOILERS REGARDING FIFTH SEASON:#last warning mmmmmmmmmm ok cont #one of my main draws in any media is a good ensemble cast of characters #so i really loved how the world was being told from what i had assumed was 3 pov's #when the name reveal dropped my heart was shattered #what i had thought was a people i grew to love it was a PERSON #i know it something i shouldnt nitpick on but still #what do you guys think of this monthly wrap up thing?#i rarely put my thoughts into writing so it's actually been cathartic and kinda scary to share this with you #feb and mar will be so packed as I will be catch up with some award season nominations

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hanzmonica · 5 months

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#lethal company #christmas present!!!!

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cai-tan · 6 months

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Hey so, I'm gonna heavily apologize in advance. I know this is a really harsh take, especially because there are fans of Lethal Company in my community.

TL;DR: I went ahead and looked up some more information and gameplay on it, and I can guarantee without a doubt that I have very little interest in playing it, let alone streaming it.

Like, it's really not Deep Rock Galactic, not even in vibes or theming. Like, yeah, DRG (the company) seems to care very little about your survival, but the game isn't built around surprising you and making you feel confused, powerless, and vulnerable. The most powerful weapon in Lethal Company is a shovel, and it's the solution to a fat (estimated) thirty percent of the threats you face in the game. The rest of the enemies and traps are essentially just unintuitive knowledge checks; you either know what to do immediately *after* someone else encounters it, or you encounter it and get locked into a situation of "Guess I'll Die".

I get that sometimes, games can just drop you in and you learn in trial by fire, and that can be really good! But specifically, when it's done right, it can be good. Dark Souls is a great example of this; the spiraling level design makes you feel like you're constantly getting lost and sidetracked, when really it's the level design guiding you through the intended progression paths. Lethal Company just gives you vague hints via mostly unhelpful, tediously long-winded log files.

I don't want to directly claim it's a bad game, or that anything I just described is bad game design, but it's really just not something I'd be on board to play or stream. Honestly, first impressions is that it feels like it's more of a Content™ Game that's all about making streamers do The Funny Reactions and Get Clipped. I kinda like getting technical with games, and this one seems like it'd feel awful to do so with. It just seems like it boils down to grabbing things and praying (to RNGesus, no less, and that guy hates me) that you either don't cross paths with Instant Death Guy 3 or Instant Death Guy 7, or that it gives you Conditional Instant Death Guy 2 and you just so happen to have the Funky MacGuffin Tool Specifically For Conditional Instant Death Guy 2.

My channel is about Analysis and Solving Problems. Lethal Company is (in my humble opinion) a game about Screaming at Scary Things and Getting Clipped.

Sorry for the disappointment.

#k t queue t #rant post #nuclear hot take #lethal company #honestly being told “it's kind of like DRG” probably absolutely ruined it for me #maaaybe i would have possibly gotten A Stream out of it where I might have had a little bit of fun #but my immediate decision when presented with “it's like DRG” because I like DRG for the combat and encounter design #is to look up what the encounter design of LC is like and. uh. wow! i hate it!#it's like if scp containment breach had even less player agency!

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multitrackdrifting · 5 months

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My latest video is about a game I absolutely love, Lethal Company. This video talks about how its atmosphere is both hilarious and horrifying. Most co-op horror games lose their charm once your friends become super good at it, that isn't the case here. The game is chaotic to the point that risk mitigation is a pipe dream. Its flawless proximity chat, simple gameplay loop & charming presentation constitute one of the best horror multiplayer games in existence and it's only been two months.

youtube

#lethal company #video essay #horror games #upload tag #horror

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 months

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Hi! I have been reading you for a long time and would like to ask you something for the first time… The last message flow to the Lethal Company from the Nutcracker was WILDLY SWEET, however, it hurt me from the bracken that was shot through the lytic…. May I ask the bracken and the reader where the bracken constantly goes behind the reader's back…. JUST TO HUG! Someone from the team warns about the danger and the bracken gently takes the reader in his arms to his lair for even bigger hugs!

Bruh you have no idea how soft i am for brackens hfghhs (when I first started playing LC, they were ALWAYS killing me...but now they just like to pop out and scurry away when I look at them, so I consider us to be pretty chill)

Anyways woe Bracken fluff be upon ye <3

.....

Of all the creatures you've encountered during your time with the Company, Brackens were certainly the most complicated.

Even though there's been countless documents and reports of employees scanning, studying, and dying to these aliens...they were still seldom understood. The data on the terminal said so.

There was one in particular who had such a unique behavior pattern that remained a mystery to you.

And he lived on Experimentation, which was supposedly the "safest" moon to land on and gather scrap from.

Most of the time, however, that was a load of bullshit...as you and your crew had many encounters with aggressive lifeforms such as hoarding bugs, Thumpers, spiders, and turrets that were placed in the most inconvenient spots...

Hell, even an Earth Leviathan showed up and nearly consumed your entire ship.

As of right now, though, you were on-track to making the third profit quota's deadline. So a trip to Experimentation was an order, as you could grab minimal loot and still gain enough leftover money to buy some much-needed ship upgrades and tools.

Or maybe new suits or jack o'lanterns.

None of you were good at managing your budget.

But during this trip, you were less focused on getting loot and more eager to see....a certain someone.

Hopefully, he hasn't forgotten about you or mistook you for another random employee.

While two of your coworkers headed into the facility's main entrance and one stayed behind on the ship, you ascended the stairs leading up to the fire exit--armed with nothing but a flashlight and a walkie-talkie.

[Nearby activity detected!]

"Oh come on...can you be anymore vague?" You huffed, slightly annoyed that your scanner displayed the message before you could even touch the damn door.

"Activity" was awfully broad and could mean literally anything was waiting for you on the other side..

It could be a bunker spider or snare flea waiting to drop down on you and catch you by surprise.

It could be a Hygrodere spreading itself all over the floor, anticipating you setting one foot into it before drowning in its slimy body.

It could even be a simple turret ready to turn you into swiss cheese.

However, there's the possibility that it could also be the one entity here who didn't wanna give you a painful death, and you hoped to god you were right.

So you took a leap of faith and entered.

Surprisingly no danger was immediately present, although you did find a lot of good loot inside the room and smiled. "Oh sweet!" You grabbed the rubber ducky and Rubik's cube in the nearest corner, pocketing them. "This should set us way above-"

"Something's behind you!"

"Huh-?!"

All of the sudden, a pair of large arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you back and causing your oxygen tanks to be pressed against the creature's chest-

Wait.

You only knew one Bracken that did that, and you couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my gosh, you scared me! You know you can't keep doing that!"

"Krrrrrr.." The entity purred softly, nuzzling his face against your neck as its leaves rustled with happiness.

With a chuckle, you patted his arm affectionately. "I've missed you, too, buddy. I told you I'd be back."

Knowing it was this Bracken, you felt safer than ever. He had a habit of greeting you this way: by sneaking up behind you like the rest of his species typically did, and attacking you.....not by snapping your neck like a twig, but by embracing and nuzzling you.

Of course, nobody in your crew believed that you've got a dangerous alien predator on Experimentation who always waited for you. Who loved you like a dog and would kill a Thumper for you.

If only they could meet him...but then again, he was shy.

"Don't tell me it's that damn Bracken again...did you tame it or something?"

The staticky voice of your coworker over the walkie-talkie startled the poor Bracken out of the hug, as it dropped you and flared its leaves out, wondering where they were.

"Relax, we're cool." You huffed, annoyed that they spooked your friend. "I gotta conserve my battery so...signal me when it gets close to midnight."

"....fine. Just don't die. Over and out."

After switching off the device, you turned back to him and smiled apologetically. "Don't worry. They're far away, so they won't bother us." You removed your helmet for the moment.

He nodded in understanding, crouching down to get a better look at your human features.

For some reason he never minded prolonged eye contact with you--and that was a good thing....otherwise, you would've been dead a long time ago.

You smiled and patted the top of his head, before he suddenly sprung up and scooped you up into his arms, lifting you completely off the ground. "Woah! Hey! Where are we going?" You asked as he carried you out of the room, taking you somewhere further within the facility.

Considering the Bracken knew his way around, you weren't too concerned with getting lost.

On your way to this unknown destination, you spotted a hoarding bug skittering down the hallway, eyeing the brass bell attached to your belt.....only to freeze as the leafy entity glared at it.

Luckily it understood the appropriate time to make eye contact with a Bracken, as it eventually looked away from him and decided to leave for another part of the facility.

It seems most of the creatures were knew who was the alpha.

'Man, whoever's tracking me must be so confused right now..' You thought to yourself as he continued walking.

Eventually you both arrived at a place many employees dubbed the "Bracken Room": a large open illuminated space with yellowish walls that looked out of place in the facility.

After setting you down on the floor, you looked at the Bracken with confusion, wondering why he decided to bring you here....until he brought you into another hug, wanting to sit down and have you in his lap.

You just smiled and wrapped your arms around him, giggling as he tucked his head underneath your chin, wanting to listen to the sound of a human's heartbeat.

Now you understood.

All he wanted was to take you to a quiet, safe place away from all the other monsters and employees. A place where he could have you to himself...at least for a couple more hours, anyways.

You knew the ship wasn't leaving anytime soon, so you didn't mind keeping him company.

While other Brackens are among the top three reasons employees hated their job...this one made you love it.

You feel so lucky, you'll consider buying a lottery ticket if you ever returned to Earth.

#clanask #anonymous #lethal company x reader #lc x reader #lethal company bracken #fluff #platonic

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hellowoolf · 5 months

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on strawberries and masonry: chapter i

series summary: you atone for your sins, now, in a jackson garden, learning to care for soft things and yourself. joel miller is a lethal sort of similar, and misery loves company

you live in jackson and meet joel and you’re both damaged little babies and fall in love (but i’m drawing this shit out🫶🫶)

warnings: angst, ANGST👈🏻👈🏻, reader has a violent past but we don’t get graphic about it yet, knives (at present we only use her for gardening), age gap (reader late 20s/early 30s, joel 50s), mention of masturbation (if i left out any, let me know!)

word count: 3.1k

authors note: i would consider myself a mildly experienced writer but this is my first ever fic! kindness is appreciated but so is constructive criticism. i really hope you enjoy🍓

by the way, a big ol thank you to @macfrog @netherfeildren @5oh5 @swiftispunk @bageldaddy (and others), whose fantastic writing gave me the courage to put this story to paper🫶

series masterlist | masterlist

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you don’t remember much about the little fruits, from the time that came before. you were only a child then, 8 when it all crumbled to pieces, and those small sweetnesses aren’t things you’re taught to notice when you’re that young. lemons and airplane engines and the neighbor’s dog; these you remember, what with all the ruckus they made, but berries and peaches were far too soft of creations to make an impression. you suppose to anyone who could see your life in full, it would seem ironic in a tragic sort of way that they were all you cared for now.

you like to ponder these things—torture, really—on your way to the garden in the morning. there’s something about the honesty of jackson air, the clarity of it at daybreak, that make such musings, painful as they are, the only bearable passtime. keeping your hands close to your sides inside your jacket, you let your fingertips brush against the knife stored there. maria had offered you gardening tools, things more fit for the work you did now, but you’d refused; this knife was your father’s once (if you were remembering correctly) and you wouldn’t let it rust over on your nightstand. you like to make use of things, things and people if you’re honest, and trimming plants and flowers and little fruits are no less noble uses for it than what you did before jackson.

the crunch of your boots beneath you whispers up as you trudge along. your house isn’t far from the garden, but ages, it feels, from everything else. you’d gone to the tipsy bison, once, within the first few weeks of moving in, convinced you were young and entitled to normalcy after what they’d collected you from on the outside. the scotch burned your throat in a cliche kind of way, and you suppose you enjoyed that part, but the walk alone in the dark on your way home was enough to keep you from the establishment since. you moved back and forth from your garden, the dining hall, and occasionally tommy’s house when you couldn’t bear the loneliness; these pathways you’d carved out for yourself here are few and stubborn, but you love them because they’re yours. the other young men and women your age in town, most of whom have lived the better part of their lives within these walls, don’t think of you enough to find you as strange as you perhaps are, but their not thinking is a comfort to you. the crunch crunch crunch of your boots on the gravel mumbles in agreement.

“speak of the devil.”

tommy is leaning against the glass of the greenhouse wall with noah when he calls it out to you, grounding you in place. you’d made it all the way to the garden in the time it took for that ugly contemplation, but the both of them are smiling with that back and forth glance only boyishness forgives, and now the morning is real. it’s cold enough that numbness has clawed its way up the bridge of your nose, the frost keeping last night’s snow frozen to the ground. it’s these moments, the arrivals to your garden at dawn, when the day comes to you. you like the both of them, noah and tommy. they make you feel like somebody’s sister. you turn up the ends of your mouth. “all bad things i hope.”

“awful, really,” noah chuckles, tugging on the arm of your jacket to pull you inside with tommy behind you, the both of them still smiling in conspiracy.

you begin to slip your arms out of your coat, laying it carefully against a wall, the wet warmth of the greenhouse rushing you immediately. you’d been heating the inside for a few weeks now, trying to maintain a healthy summer crop output despite the freezing soil, and a few of the sturdier vegetables had steadily been peeking their way up. you plucked a full radish from the dirt last week and nearly wept over it. you look back up at tommy and noah, standing shoulder to shoulder now in the aisle between the planter boxes to block your path forward, humming still with whatever tommy-and-noah-elation they’ve concocted. you tilt your head a little and smile.

“are you gonna make me guess? or can you just tell me?”

they confer with a nod and a jostle side to side, tommy turning back to you. “there’s a strawberry.”

your tongue unsticks from the roof of your mouth as something golden and beautiful unfolds inside of you. “there isn’t,” you counter. noah turns himself sideways so you can walk through the aisle to the end of the left planter box and you rush there (you’re rarely frantic, nowadays, but you allow this sort of thing for your little fruits).

maria had placed you here in the garden as a safeguard. she thought you dangerous (and you were, at least back when you met her), so she put you to work where your hands could do good and be far from people. it helped, you guessed, that the greenhouse is made of glass; she could keep an eye on you this way. and oh, how you’d resisted it, the softness of a gardener’s job. in the end, though, the black and grime of life left as residue on your palms felt like forgiveness, and you’d taken quickly to thinking yourself a botanist.

by the time you arrive at the end of the left planter box, on your knees like a worshiper at a pew, you’re eye level with the little poetry of red and green parting the soil you’d scooped by hand last month. tommy and noah, you feel, are behind you as your shadow casts itself over the soil, and you almost have to pull the thing out just to bear this feeling. there’s a strawberry. and you actually say it out loud, softer than anything but wild, still, and staring at the child of plant and earth you’d nursed to color. noah and tommy drop to your sides, and you notice then that the three of you are crying, and you laugh and laugh over the little thing like madness and sweetness and pride.

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the euphoria of your strawberry lasts you well into the late afternoon. tommy and noah had left you to bask in the glory of it to continue with construction on a little post office right off the main road, and you worked the morning with your thumbs in the dirt, slicing browning leaves off the budding plants with as much gentleness as you could muster. you look down at your knife, cradled close in the cup of your palm, to finger out the soil packed through the engraving along the handle. a last name meant nothing anymore, what with your loneliness and the end of the world, but still the slopes of it peer up at you; you watched your father make the engraving, you think, though the actual memory of it is lost to time.

by the time you reach the beets at the end of the right planter box, a commotion has stirred outside. men’s voices ring and rumble from the main road, and the bass of it hums under your knees on the ground. a great bark of tommy reaches you clearly, even tucked away as your greenhouse is, and curiosity consumes you enough to resign from your garden for the day. these days you are quiet, and reserved, sometimes frightening because you like how it feels, but still curious, always curious, and so you curl yourself back into your jacket to join whatever audience has congregated by the front gates.

he is beautiful in a holy sort of way, whoever he is. you come upon tommy wrapped up in a great big stranger, a horse and a young girl behind him, and the slopes of his nose bend the waning sunlight off into a ribbon of a beam. jesus, when was the last time you’d looked at someone this way? tommy pulls back from him, glassy eyed and awestruck, looking around at those who’d crowded the scene almost incredulously, but you stare still at his stranger, who is so broad and so timid and so clearly unused to his own timidness that you can’t pull your eyes away. he meets your gaze for a moment, as he sweeps his own across the crowd, and looks at you with about as much detachment as he does the rest of this spectatorship. but oh god, he is so divinely pretty, and so you can forgive his lack of immediate fascination with you.

tommy begins walking his stranger and his stranger’s small companion through the throng, introducing and shaking hands, and as you watch them slowly shuffle towards you, you are struck with the thought that this is tommy’s brother. as he shifts his face along the axis of his shoulders, taking in the town, you see more and more of tommy in the motion of his stranger’s face. you’re sure of it now, as tommy calls your name and shepherds the man in front of you.

“my brother here’as decided to make a grand entrance!” tommy says, slapping a mittened hand across his back. you shake his stranger’s hand and give him your name, hoping your little smile doesn’t give away how awful it felt for him to look this way.

“joel,” he musters (and it really does seem like it takes a mustering), and gives your hand a firm shake before stuffing them back in his pockets. he is disinterested, surely, but afraid, too. it almost hurts you how clear his prevailing apprehension is, and you nearly make to apologize for forcing him to introduce himself. his eyes squint in the golden light cast over jackson.

“i work in the greenhouse, a few blocks from here on the edge of the settlement,” you explain, eyes drifting between joel and his little shadow, who both joel and tommy have yet to introduce. she looks a little feral, and this endears you immediately to her. “welcome in,” you offer, and you do your best to direct this message to her from around joel’s shoulder. her eyes are so big for a thing so ferocious (and you are certain she is) and they widen further at your acknowledgment of her.

“we won’t be here for long,” joel grumbles out and you straighten back up. he says it like you’ve offended him, and you bristle a little. tommy’s beautiful stranger is very guarded, you decide. regardless, the width of him, from left to right, blocks the mountain range behind him, and the patchy scruff along his jaw makes you die a little death.

“alright, well,” you start to back away then, feeling increasingly overwhelmed by his face and his broadness and this little girl who looks and moves like you used to, “you know where to find me,” and you nod a little to tommy before turning and walking away. you lasted all but five seconds in front of him, relishing in how little you were in his shadow cast upon you and loving whatever creature the girl he brought with him was, but all the same he looked too tired and cautious and vicious that it suffocated you. he wouldn’t be here for long, apparently; you’ll likely never see him again. as you step towards your little house, you figure it was worth the meeting, if for nothing else than a face to keep you company in the dark when you’re a woman and alone, and a real image to pair with the descriptions tommy gave of a brother who loved him once.

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for a while, it seemed you really wouldn’t see joel again. you watched, through your greenhouse walls, the great expanse of him ride out with the girl, and you were left with the comfort of knowing how gorgeous you found him and that you would never have to speak with him again. you warded off your own psychoanalysis of your relief at his faraway-ness in the face of your immediate physical attraction to him, and sunk your fingers again in the soil.

but then he had returned. what with how consoled you felt at his leaving, he almost had to; fate was funny this way. but you figure, still, you needn’t disturb yourself with him. you imagined he’d keep to himself with how unspeaking he was when you first met him, and other than crossing his path every once in a while, leaving tommy’s house or marching himself along somewhere or other, you were right.

you think of him at night, though. in the morning you wake up with the shame and hilarity of it, of this lusting over a man you neither know nor want to know, but past midnight in your bed you let your fingers slip over yourself thinking of how small he’d made you feel. the wanting of him strikes you somewhere between your shoulder blades, and you blame it entirely on how long it had been since you shared your bed with anyone. strictly physical, strictly physical. you’d learned again to care for yourself these years in jackson, and you’d wrought kinship from tommy and noah without realizing it, but in all you attend mostly to flora, and in this you are protected. yes, joel keeps to himself as you surmised he would, but you avoid him, too; to want him in this way, all hands and hips and somewhere within you, is harmless, you determine, so long as he stays tommy’s stranger. he could never be anything or anyone to you.

it’s six weeks or so of joel’s continued disinterest in you, and your insistent avoidance of him (barring the way you touched yourself at night to his face), before a knock at your door past sunset brings you out of bed. people rarely appear at your doorstep, though you imagine it’s noah dropping off seeds found on patrol, or tommy with a similar sort of package, or even ellie, joel’s little creature, who’d spoken all but five words to you about your garden, but all the same materialized rather often there to see the colors of your little fruits. but when maria blinks back at you when you open the door, any semblance of a greeting dies in the back of your throat.

“can i come in?” maria asks, although she’s already leaning her shoulder towards the gap between your body and the doorway. you step aside to let her through. it occurs to you that maria has never visited you in your home before, not in your five years in jackson, and when she turns back to you, back pressed against your kitchen counter, it’s clear she’s just had the same thought. the way she crosses her arms over her chest, the authority of it and the terror, too, beckons you toward her from your place at the threshold.

“is everything okay?” you sigh out as you prop your hip against the adjacent table top. she is inspecting you, but smiles.

“yeah, yeah.” one of you sniffs. you shift your weight. “i came to see what you thought of joel.”

you almost laugh then, really laugh. “i don’t think anything of joel.”

she rolls this answer around behind her teeth. “mhm,” and then this time with finality, “mhm”.

you inspect her, now. “you don’t want him here.” it isn’t a question.

maria hums. “tommy wants him here.”

“that isn’t what i said.”

she purses her lips a moment. “yeah, i know.”

and you’re making the moment torturous for her, you’re certain, because you know why she’s come to you, why she’s standing in your kitchen like the elected leader she is, while something awful, something almost like alarm, leaks from the back of her neck onto your floorboards. you’d come to jackson a wild thing and she’d tamed you, and now you lived as a dirt woman who sunk her dagger into earth and green and life more permanent than humanity. she is proud of this, you think. and joel came as much of the same, with red hands that opened dripping, and maria needs him watched now the same way she watched you through your garden’s glass. you sigh again.

“what do you want me to do, maria? anything i’d say to tommy would be infinitely more effective from you.”

maria nods. “i don’t want you to say anything to tommy. i can live with joel in jackson. but he’s insisting on patrol, and i don’t know who else to put with him.”

your jaw seizes, and the heat of anger spreads itself along your neck and around your ears. you remember when you’d pleaded so kindly, crouching to make yourself smaller, hands collapsed together, begging to be useful, to be put outside, to protect jackson like it was yours. maria was as honest with you then as she is now, and she’d cited your instability (the reality of which is neither here nor there) to keep you off the rounds. you’d told tommy maria envisioned your actions before jackson as far more unforgivable than they were, though you knew that was a lie before you opened your mouth to say it. “patrol?”

she looks so solemnly at you you think you might die right there between your kitchen and the staircase. “yeah. i want you to be his patrol partner. i’m not looking to send him out there with a gun strapped to his back with one of the other gu-”

“and why does it have to be me?” and you’re really angry, now. for your unyielding quiet in this jackson existence you’d sewn together and the little strawberry you’d grown from nothing, still, still, you were at most and at least a violence. “why can’t you assign someone else?”

maria has this answer constructed already, it seems, for how fast she releases it, “because you’ll kill him.”

“noah would, if he had to. and leila. i can think of at least fi-”

“i’m not saying you would kill him. i’m saying you could.”

and suddenly you were again a wasp or spider, poisonous and unthinking, and the weight of the killing you did before jackson, which you had halfway successfully ignored to piece yourself into something good, perched its chin on the crown of your head. your father’s knife, laying up next to your bed after what was now years of tending to vegetables and stalks and leaves, howled with laughter, and it carried down the stairs to you like wind in summer, leadened and screaming and satisfied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i hope you enjoyed this first part! like i said in my authors note, this is my first time writing a piece like this and certainly my first time posting it, so kindness is much appreciated, as is constructive criticism. part 2 coming (hopefully) soon🍓

update: chapter ii!!

#joel miller fic #joel miller #tlou #the last of us #fem!reader #teehee #jackson!joel #on strawberries and masonry

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shadow-of-gehenna · 1 year

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Introducing the Colt - The relentless reloader

The Colt was part of the initial wave of Locksteel Mechs, embodying the ever present mentality of the company’s style of weaponry, with a focus on utility and ease of use rather than an excess of unnecessary additions and redundant systems. The first major deployment of the Colt frame was during an expansionist phase of a neighboring manufacturer - ARC. While the Colt paled in comparison to the rival company’s high end frames and the SSC and Harrison frames fielded by their proxy soldiers, the Colt’s low resource requirement and ease of use gave it a stunning advantage on a home field, becoming a poster child of resistance for the people who lived alongside and worked with Locksteel.

The Colt is for those who want a new spin on the gunslinger type frame, with it’s ability to reload weapons quicker than other frames at the cost of health and create a wall of lead to protect itself, it can take measured shots from its powerful SRC - Dedicated Marksman Rifle to bring down even the hardest targets.

Being the poster child of Locksteel Inc. the Colt license provides pilots with a pair of weapon modifications; Insta-conversion to give a weapon loading and boost its power, or the Barrel-affixed-backup which allows pilots to disengage with more lethality.

#lancer #lancer rpg #lancer hombrew #mech #ttrpg homebrew #ttrpg

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findingnemosworld · 8 months

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𝐢𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭 - 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐤 𝐬𝐳𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐳𝐥𝐚𝐢

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐦𝐞

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐤'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!!

Aside from football, she was the most lethal addiction he had ever known - they'd been friends since childhood, partly due to the fact that their mothers were close, which in turn had allowed him to be her close friend, the confidant, the secret keeper she could always count on and he loved it, he loved how dependent she was on him, so much so that she was easily manipulated into believing anything he says, if a certain suitor even thinks of her much less approaches her, you can count on Dominik cornering them when no one is watching - and threatening them that if they so much as speak to her, he'd end up hurting them.

While she blissfully saw him as the close friend he'd always presented himself to be, this was all a ploy to him, eliminating any and all targets to ensure that no one lays a finger on her, however when his career had taken him to new heights, forcing him to leave his hometown - a sense of dread washed over him, the possibility of them losing touch or worse, her finding love in another man's arms had leisurely ate him away until his move to Liverpool in which he received the biggest and most surprising news ever, she had reached out, asking if she could stay him as she had applied for a move to work at a company based in their hometown which had a branch in Liverpool.

He couldn't truly explain the amount of elation he felt at the news, she would be under his eyes at all times, ( whenever he wasn't training of course ) yet that meant that he can execute his plan after months and months of waiting for her to finally realize what he truly felt.

To say that living with her was facile would be an understatement, she was unaware of the effect she had on Dominik, so much so that every part of his mind was consumed by her, from the moment he wakes up to the moment he falls asleep, so much so that he had tried to distract himself by any means possible yet they all were in vain, each time he steps out to a club with his teammates, he'd try and bury the notion of her in the back of his mind yet he couldn't seem to do it, she was and is the one woman for him, and he would not stop until he ensures that not a single man lays a hand on her.

____

He walks into the apartment, his brows knitting at the eery silence he had been welcomed to as he had grown accustomed to hearing her sing in the kitchen or the sound of television as loud as it can be while she watches a terrible reality show, he places his training bag down on the floor and walks in further to look around, in hopes that maybe she is in the guest bedroom, only to be met with complete silence which sent his mind into overdrive, he pulls out his cellphone, pressing her contact number to type up a message.

Where are you?

In a matter of seconds, he receives a response from her.

I'm out to get some groceries, your fridge is practically empty, I'll be home in like five minutes.

He lets out a sigh of relief then types back.

Ok, I'll be waiting.

And indeed, in five minutes he hears the door creak open and she walks in carrying a number of bags, he sprints over towards her flinging his arms around her, " You had me worried sick " he murmurs nuzzling his face in her neck. " Don't go out like this without at least calling me "

Her eyes widen for a brief moment, her heart flutters at the concern he displayed before she pulls him back to look him in the eye and say, " Domi, I'm fine " she said with a soft tone.

" It doesn't matter, I still got worried, I don't know what could happen to you so please " He looks at her with pleading eyes, before adding with a small voice. " Don't go out until at least you call or wait for me to go out with you "

She nods with a soft smile, " Ok, I promise " she murmurs.

He cradles her face in his hands then presses a soft kiss to her forehead, " Now, give me those bags and you go on and shower, tonight I'm ordering food for us " he states.

" But I was going to cook " She pouts.

Dominik shakes his head repeatedly, " No, tonight I'm going to spoil you baba, you've worked so hard and you deserve to relax " he smiles.

She giggles, the sound causing his heart to flutter. " Domi, you don't have to spoil me "

He presses another kiss to the top of her head, " I want to, I want to spoil you with everything I can think of, you deserve it "

" It's like I have a boyfriend without actually having a boyfriend " She laughs, mostly to herself as she walks into the guest bedroom, blissfully unaware of the effect that phrase had on Dominik.

And it wasn't until she was in the midst of a shower that an odd sensation washed over her, she felt as though someone was watching - she stopped for a moment to listen and heard a soft yet faint thud which made her frown in confusion for a moment before shrugging, she opted not to think much of it and finish her shower before stepping out with a towel wrapped around her body, she was about to make her way towards the closet when the door flings open causing her to gasp, " Domi " she whines, " don't do that "

His eyes rake over her semi bare body before he quickly composes himself and responds, " I'm sorry baba " he pouts, " I just came to say that dinner is here "

" Ok, I'll get dressed and be right out " She responds.

He nods swiftly then steps out to give her some much needed privacy, she slips on a pair of shorts, along with an old Hungary jersey Dominik had given her - she pulls her hair up then walks out of into the living room where Dominik had set up the plates, he looks up and gives her the sweetest smile, patting the spot next to him just as he turns on the television, the pair sat close to one another to eat while watching an old film, halfway through they had finished their meals and she subconsciously shuffled closer to Dominik seeking warmth that he happily provided by wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

The pair were silent for the most part until she piped up with a soft voice, " Domi "

" Yes Baba " He responds, averting his gaze down to meet hers.

" Am I ugly? " She wonders.

His eyes darken, then he responds as calmly as he can so as to not feel enraged " Of course not baba, who on earth made you feel like thet? "

" No one, it's just ... " She fiddles with the bracelet on her wrist, " Ever since high school, I had just one boyfriend and even he didn't want to kiss me or, you know ... " she rolls her eyes, " and it didn't work in college either, not one single guy was interested "

He had to hold back a smile, reminiscing his effective plan of threatening any and all suitors that he saw coming close to her, he opts to force a faux sad expression then say, " Baba " he whispers, his thumb caressing the apple of her cheek. " You are so beautiful, the most beautiful girl I know, I mean I still remember the first day I saw you, dressed in that pink dress, with your hair braided in those two cute pigtails " He chuckles softly, " You had me wrapped around your finger, you still do "

Her eyes soften, her lower lip caught between her teeth; the action instinctively drawing his attention towards them. " Baba " He murmurs, " Don't do that "

Her brows knit, " Do what? " she whispers.

" Bite your lip like that " He states with a labored breath, leaning closer. " You have no clue what you do to me "

Her gaze trails from his eyes down to his lips then back to his eyes before she whispers, " Show me? "

With a deep growl, he slams his lips onto hers, gently pushing her down, her back hitting the couch; one hand wrapped around her waist while the other rests on her neck. " Baba " he moans in between their kisses, " If we move through with this, I won't stop "

She wraps her arms around his shoulders pulling him in, the cold sensation of his chain resting on her skin elicited a whine from her followed by a soft, " Don't stop " murmured against his lips.

His hand that rested on her waist trails down until it slips inside of her shorts, his digits trailing over her now soaked pussy, the sensation had elicited both a moan and a groan from the two of them. " Fuck you're so wet " he murmurs.

" Dominik " She sighs, " Please, please touch me "

He eagerly slips one digit inside of her warm walls which incited an obscene and muffled cry from her which he happily devoured into his mouth while his tongue danced around inside of her mouth, " Baba " he sighs once again, resting his forehead on top of hers before he grabs one of her hands placing it directly on top of his heart. " Do you hear that? " he whispers.

She looks up at him with wide eyes, nodding quietly.

" If loving you was a sin, then I'm not repenting ever " He whispers, pecking her cheek before adding. " You have had my heart in the palm of your hand since the day I saw you, and I know that you have wondered why no one has ever approached you, I can tell you one thing, none of them deserve you baba " he whispers in her ear, " I can give you everything you need, I can make you happy, all you have to do is just let me in, let me take care of your heart, let me show you the love that you deserve "

The combination of his soft words coupled with the way he pumped her pussy with a singular digit incited soft moans and whimpers from her, " Domi " she whines, tilting his face so that he'd meet her darkened gaze, " While we're confessing our feelings, I should confess mine "

His brows knit in confusion, " What do you mean? "

" There's a reason why I was seeking attention from other guys " She murmurs avoiding his gaze before adding, " I didn't think you would ever like me "

His eyes widened before softening almost instantly, he caressed her cheek and chuckled, pressing featherlight kisses on her neck. " Baba, I love you more than anything " he groans, the slickness of her arousal coating his digits which were now lodged deep inside of her walls. " Promise me " he murmurs in her ear, " promise me you won't ever leave me "

She moans, " I promise, I promise you - OH FUCK " her back arches off the couch, the pace of his digits thrusting in and out of her pussy had quickened, " Domi, please don't stop, oh my god " she whines softly, " just like that "

He sped up his ministrations until she exploded right onto his digits, he lifts them up to lick them clean while their eyes were locked on one another. " Let me take you to bed and show you exactly what you deserve " he murmurs, pecking her lips before he stood up, hoisting her up in his arms to take her to his bedroom.

He slams the door shut behind them then places her down, turning her around so that her back collides with his chest. " You are the most beautiful girl " he murmurs against her skin, helping her undress completely, his hands roaming every inch of her skin. " I love every part of you " he turns her around and cradles her face in his hands to press soft kisses to her lips.

" Domi " She moans in between their kisses, " You're still dressed "

He chuckles softly, pulling back to hastily undress himself before he pushes her onto the bed, he climbs up on top of her and dips his head to capture her lips in a passionate and deep kiss, " You're mine baba " he murmurs, deepening the kiss even further, their tongues dancing together. " Tell me, tell me that you're mine " he pleads.

" I'm yours Domi " She moans in response, gasping when he spreads her legs then teases her pussy with the tip of his cock. " Fuck " she whispers.

" You are mine baba " He reaffirms, gasping when he slowly began to thrust his cock inside of her pussy, " You " he groans, his eyelids fluttering shut. " Are " he inhales then exhales before setting a leisure pace. " Mine "

Her hands grip the bedsheet in response to his thrusts, " Yes " she sighs.

" No man is ever going to touch you " He groans, finding the appropriate pace to thrust. " Not one single man, I will burn this world and everyone in it for you baba "

His chain rests between her breasts, the sight spurred him on to thrust even harder. " You're so perfect " he caresses her cheek. " You are my perfect girl "

" Dominik " She whines, " Don't stop "

" I won't, you like it baba? " He cooed, half whispering half groaning while he continued to thrust, " You're taking my cock so well, like a good girl, like the best girl I know, your pussy was made for me and only me, say it baba, say that you're all mine "

" I'm all yours Domi, all yours " She moans, " Fuck, I'm going to cum " she gasps.

His eyes light up, " Yeah? " he grunts, " You want to cum baba? " by then the bed was creaking from the intensity of his thrusts. " Cum all over my cock, make a mess, I know you want to " he spurs her on, moaning when he felt her arousal seep all over his cock. " That's it baby, such a good girl, keep going "

" Dominik " She moans, tugging him close by his chain to kiss him with all her might.

" You think you can let me cum? " He whispers against her lips, " Let me cum inside of you "

" Yeah " She breathes out, " It's fine, I'm on protection "

" Thank you baba " He moans, thrusting even harder, his thrusts had turned sloppy until his cock twitched causing him to let out a loud grunt and spill everything inside of her. " Oh fuck that was good " he then pulls out inciting a whine from her, " Relax baba, I'm going to set up a bath for us " he smiles.

And true to his word, he sets up a warm bath full of bath salts and a scented lotion, he then lights up two candles he had kept there mostly for this night, he then grabs two wet clothes to step back into the bedroom, he spends a few minutes gently cleaning her up before he cleaned himself up, he discards the cloths and makes his way towards her to pick her up in his arms and take her to the bathroom, he places her in first before entering after her, he then takes her in his arms, wrapping her in his warm embrace. " You were so good baba " he murmurs, pecking her cheek.

She smiles, " Domi, do you promise never to leave me? "

" I couldn't leave you even if I wanted to baba " He responds, tightening his embrace over her, and indeed, he couldn't and wouldn't leave her, until his last breath.

#dominik szoboszlai #dominik szoboszlai imagine #dominik szoboszlai fanfiction #dominik szoboszlai one shot #dominik szoboszlai smut

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callofdudes · 4 months

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Dropping all my AU thoughts on you. (Lovingly) pt1??

Hunger Games AU: All of 141 bring previous victors from their games who find solace with each other in the capital. Would go through what they experienced in their individual games and how they won. But when the victors face off comes they all have to work together to end the games permanently.

Skyrim AU: Ghost works with the Dark Brotherhood. Johnny is 1000% a Companion. Gaz is a bard who is also attending the College of Winterhold to become a mage. Price is either a leader of the Companions, or he's a captain of the Imperial Guard. Don't exactly have a proper plot. And Gaz is obviously a redguard. Price is definitely a Nord. John is probably a mix of either Breton and Nord or something. It just makes sense. And Ghost is an Imperial. It just makes sense and I can't explain why!

Or, another Skyrim idea: Johnny as the dragonborn and Simon as a Daedric Prince of Akotosh who chooses to serve Johnny after doubting Alduin's reign.

Transformers AU: It could go either way, I envision it with Ghost as a Tranformer. He's the last of his squad who escaped captivity (I hope you catch on) and is sent to earth to protect Intel and find a place to stay. Runs into the annoying Scottish mechanic when his paint is dinged up. Or Simon as the angry mechanic who does not want to fix this alien thing that keeps yapping all day.

Rise of the Guardians AU: All the characters are there. If Y/n was present in this I'd make Ghost the angry easter Bunny who "hates his job". But if they weren't he's hands down Jack Frost. Sorry. Gaz can be Sandy (sandman) we all know who Price is, and Johnny can be the tooth fairy. If you know why, you know why.

Obviously a httyd AU: because everyone needs one. I'm already conjuring up things for Ghost's backstory it's insane.

Gaming AU: Price is a moderator for a large gaming community channel and streaming platform. He greenlights a lot of games that go through and plays them occasionally. RDR games and those likes. Johnny and Gaz definitely play the sims together. They'd play those games like Lethal Company and such. They try to play horror games but it doesn't always go well. Simon, (known to fans as Ghost) wears his mask or has one of those cool avatars. Plays horror games religiously and first person shooters which has attracted a glamorized following. Friends with Price and that's how he ended up getting together in the streaming group with Gaz and Johnny. They're annoying, but ok, they're cool.

Assassin's Creed AU: I've been working slowly on this for a while but Johnny as a sword/bow for hire whose work has slowed in the city he's at. So he packs up with friend Gaz who is going to a different city to study as a medic. Price is probably the king of said place. (I'm thinking of setting up in Greece or we're going to old Britain.) And Ghost is our famous assassin. And they meet and some stuff happens!

Not sure what to call this one (AU) As a young kid Johnny was diagnosed with ADHD and went to weekly day camp for kids like him. It wasn't particularly boring and Johnny had lots of fun. Until a new kid who is very socially awkward and reclusive starts coming. He's quiet and fidgety and doesn't make much eye contact. Johnny wants to be his friend. The story where Autistic Simon and ADHD Johnny become inseparable childhood friends.

Winged AU. I did a little thing on this a couple months ago. Some 30% of the popular are born with wings. Johnny is one of them. He's incredibly proud of his wings and it gives him some advantages and disadvantages in the military. Simon seems to hate Johnny for the sake of it. But every time Simon sees John's wings, he remembers the scars on his back and the pain of when his wings were torn off...

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #call of duty headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick #ghostsoap #crossovers #fic ideas #soapghost #ghost x soap #hunger games crossover #skyrim au #skyrim crossover #httyd/cod crossover

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midnightsun-if · 6 months

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A continuation to the ask about the ROs being asked if MC was seeing anybody: what would happen if they saw the person who asked that question pestering MC while MC's whole body language screamed 'I'm uncomfortable!' but they were trying to be nice about it?

Continuation of this ask.

Koda: He stops next to you, a small frown furrowing his brow as he glances between you and the person. "Hi, MC." A bright grin is sent your way, but it quickly falls away when he shifts his attention. "I thought you wanted me to ask him later? Don't you think now is a bad time?" Koda glances down at his watch, worry welling within his stomach. "We're going to be late for our movie marathon." Gently taking you by the arm, he tugs you closer to his side, whiskey brown eyes never straying too far from the other person. "Why don't we head back to the dorm now? It's Gina's turn to cook tonight and I can't wait to eat up." He looks down at you then, his warm countenance returning in spades immediately. "That's something that'll be fun before it, I think. Some good food and good company to match."

Scarlett: Viridescent eyes narrow into slits, features devoid of emotion twisting into the epitome of anger-- a vicious, burning entity that's scorching in intensity-- at the sight that greets her at the other end of the hall. She doesn't think, doesn't give credence to the thoughts running through her head, all she felt in that moment, all that she knew to be true, is that she needed to get to you. With long strides, Scarlett closes the distance quickly, heels clicking menacingly against the waxed floor. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" A hand grips onto their bicep, more impervious than steel, as she twists the person towards her. "When I told you to go ask her, I didn't mean make a nuisance of yourself and force your cretinous presence somewhere it doesn't belong." Scarlett leans closer, sharp fangs glinting underneath the torchlight when she growls. "You've just made a mistake. The likes of which you'll never recover from. I'll make sure of it."

Cyrus/Cyra: "This isn't what I meant by getting your answer faster." Their words, much like the expression etched across their face, is filled with anger-- a raging inferno roaring within their chest at the sight before them. They step closer, settling by your side, with their arms crossed over their chest; presenting every bit as the Heir to House Aurelia in that moment. "I'd leave if I were you, it's clear that your presence is no longer required or welcomed." Gentle gold eyes, that still have a lethal undercurrent of red, turn to glance at you, a soft smile quirking their lips. "Though, I believe, I must thank you in a way. You gave me a question that I didn't even know needed to be asked and, because of it, I have come to answer that's quite satisfactory." They turn back to the person, their earlier fire returning. "But, make no mistake, that your help, however slight, makes me any less forgetful of what you just tried to do."

Quinn: Can I eat them now? Their wolf, while unwelcome in the moment, reflected the exact feelings currently welling within their chest. A festering rage causing their eyes to flash sporadically, but they maintain control as they easily find their way to your side-- one of their favorite places to be. "Forcing your company on someone that doesn't wish for it isn't exactly charming," Quinn mutters, arms crossed over their chest. Sapphire blue filled with nothing but barely concealed hostility. "In fact, I think it's something that'd warrant a visit from my furry friend." They take a small step forward, voice lowering to a menacing growl. "So, I'd leave if I were you. If you care at all for your health."

Caden: An icy chill instantly fills the hallway, silver eyes flashing brilliantly-- wisps of chilling white intercepted within them. They're not aware when they stop by your side, but they're more than aware of the growing fire within their chest; a rage the likes they haven't felt in a long time. "You need to leave." They take a step closer, voice hauntingly devoid of any emotion. At the hesitation, another gust of icy air rushes through the area. "That wasn't a suggestion." Caden inclines their head towards the exit. "Now."

Sloane: Without thinking about the consequences, without putting any thought into the action really, their fist collides with the person's cheek-- satisfied immensely by the crack that fills the air because of it. "Why don't you fuck around with someone who actually wants it, asshole?" Teeth bared, wolf broiling at the surface, Sloane takes a step closer, fighting against the urge to tear them apart. "Next time I see you even in the same radius as MC, I'll make you sure you wished that you never stepped foot in Aurelian, understood?" At the frantic nodding of their head, Sloane jerks their own towards the exit. "Good. Now get the fuck out of my sight."

Blake: An easy smile slips from their lips at the sight, violet eyes darkening to a shade few have ever seen before. Without putting much stock into the action, Blake easily sidles up to you, throwing a loose arm around your shoulders. "MC," they crow, tugging you closer into their side. "Just the vampire I was looking for, I was wondering if you'd help me with an assignment?" At the scoff from the other person, Blake allows a cheshire grin to overtake them, not a hint of mirth in their gaze. "Oh, I wasn't aware you had company. Would you like me to leave you be?" They shift their focus towards you, deadly serious. "I'd be more than happy to handle it, of course. Handling unwanted things is an amusing pastime of mine."

Reginald/Regina: "It seems you also have to work on boundaries too," they comment, easily settling by your side. Ignoring the glare that's sent their way because of it, a gentle smile comes to their lips as they nudge you. "I'm making dinner tonight, wanna help me out?" Blue green eyes flash merrily, but anyone would be able to see the sharpness hiding just underneath the surface-- a clear signal to the one it's directed towards that they wouldn't leave regardless. "You've always been a big help to me, I could definitely use that now. What do you say?"

#midnight sun #asks #ro: blake herrera #ro: c aurelia #ro: r presley #ro: sloane addams #ro: quinn grant #ro: koda kingston #ro: caden randall #ro: scarlett voltaire #scenario asks

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sstormyskyess · 5 months

Text

Pitch Black - Prologue

author's note: hello hello everyone!! welcome to my first long form series on this blog! i'm excited to share this story i've been cooking up since summer last year and i hope everyone likes it as much as i've had fun brainstorming it 😊 this is gonna be a little short prologue to set the mood and give a little context for reader so things make sense later on! please enjoy 💜

cw: descriptions of injury, mentions of vomiting

word count: 1400+

Everyone and their mother knows that Russian winters were ruthless. It was a widely accepted fact, even for those who hadn’t personally experienced one of said agonizing winters. Snowfall was common for six months out of the year, and the temperatures could reach —44 degrees fahrenheit.

Cold air seeped in from under the door of the tiny room you were confined in. You shivered while you sat on the old, flimsy cot against the back wall of the solitary prison cell. Your vision was unfocused and blurry, though it was hard to tell because it was too dark to see anything. The walls were made of dark concrete and half-rotted wood slats. It smelled musty and stale, the air circulation in the room severely lacking.

You wince when the door suddenly opens, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to block out the blinding LED lights beaming into the room out of nowhere. Your breath catches in your throat from the surprise, your chest stinging from the feeling. You peek an eye open when a metal food tray clatters to the floor. The sound was deafening as it cut through the murky silence you had been wallowing in, making you bring your hands up to cover your ears. The man that dropped the tray barks something at you in Russian before slamming the door shut once again.

Konni Group.

An up and coming Russian private military company, the target of your squad’s operation, and the people that had taken you prisoner.

The stated goal of your team was to clear out a known Konni base and to capture or kill the colonel they knew was posted up there. The POI had led a recent attack on a U.S. arms convoy and taken a number of highly lethal weaponry from the wreckage. The weapons were likely hidden somewhere in the base, and it was imperative to locate them before they were used anywhere.

The operation had gone less than optimally. It was doomed to fail from the start; the intel your squad was given was faulty, you had your cover blown by an ambush, and to cap it all off, the chaos allowed for Konni to get their hands on you and whisk you away.

The only thing you could think of was time. How long had it been since you’d been thrown in here? Days, weeks, months? You couldn’t tell. Just thinking about it made your head hurt.

The only measurement you had was how long it was between the miniscule amount of food you were granted by your captors on a seemingly random schedule. You were practically able to feel your body consuming itself, your stomach growling at you angrily. You would cry, but the waterworks had run dry ages ago. You couldn’t afford to lose any more water; you didn’t have that privilege anymore.

Years of active service in the U.S. Marines had gotten you used to grueling conditions, but nothing like this. Even out in the field, dispatched from whatever base you were stationed in, you knew you’d be able to secure some kind of sustenance. Food and water felt like a luxury now.

Despite the cold, the hunger, and the wear and tear on your body, both internal and external, the worst part was the lack of contact. You couldn’t even hear anyone moving outside, no matter how hard you strained your ears. There was no light peeking from under the door, so you couldn’t track shadows moving. The only indication that someone was behind the door was the meager rations being put into the cell. Between those meals, for all you knew, no one was present in the facility anymore.

Too much time had passed for anyone to still be looking for you or trying to rescue you. It hurt, at first. The feeling of being forgotten or being considered disposable had been crippling for a while, so painfully debilitating that it had you weeping endlessly for days, maybe even a week or more. The muscles of your stomach ached afterwards. Mixed with all the kicks and punches you suffered from interrogations, your heaving sobs had you nauseous and throwing up bile frequently.

You ruminated over what could possibly be the reason you were still being kept here instead of being executed. You weren't being interrogated anymore by now. You were just left with the wounds that you sustained from hours upon days upon weeks of interrogation. The bruises had healed, but the cuts were infected from the shoddy cauterizing job they had attempted. It felt like the bones that were broken were healing incorrectly.

You sigh shakily, your perpetually shivering body getting uncomfortable, so you try to shift a bit. The only thing you accomplished by trying to roll over on your tiny stone cold cot was falling face down onto the floor. You wince and give a weak groan, curling up and holding your stomach. You try your hardest to just close your eyes and get some sleep, no matter how restless it was.

When you woke up, you were finally back in the present. You were finally back in the little old house that you found after escaping that Konni facility, the sun just barely rising over the horizon.

It had been two years since you were abducted. The realization hit you hard. Two years you spent in that dark, cold, suffocating cell. Two years you spent withering away, slowly but surely. Two years you spent in your own special hell, alone, battered and beaten, left scarred for years and years to come.

You roll over and get out of the bed, a headache already springing forth in your head, making you rub your temples. You sigh and amble over to your rucksack full of all the essentials—well, most of them at least. You frown at the sight that greets you. Only a few MREs left and all of them were your least favorites. But, you’ve been through worse.

You pace around the room as you eat, reading some of the files you pulled off the rickety table in the corner of the tiny one room cabin. You scan the files and run a thumb over the insignia on the front of the manila folder containing everything you needed for your next job.

Al Qatala.

A terrorist organization based out of Urzikstan, the current boogeyman of the western world, and your current contractor.

The life of a freelance intel agent was an interesting one, to say the least. You had been around the world making problems for a countless number of political and military bodies, but the money was worth it. Not to mention the anonymity that came with not being tied down to any one organization.

You went off the grid after you escaped from Konni. You wanted to go back to normal life, but something in you told you to stay away from it all. Maybe it was the fear of being found and captured again. The logical side of your brain told you that there was no reason they would want you back, but it was hard to reason with a brain torn apart by the sort of trauma you went through.

You hadn’t cared to check up on any of your old teammates. There was an underlying resentment present in the back of your mind. You were betrayed by them, after all. They left you for dead and didn’t look back. Thinking back on it made you frown. You watched them leave you behind with no hesitation, run away without looking back. So much for no man left behind, right?

By the time you snap out of your frustrated thoughts, you’re already finished with your food. Your headache has gotten worse. You groan and pinch the bridge of your nose. You would really have to invest in some painkillers.

Based on how high the sun has gotten, you figure it’s about time to get moving. At least focusing on this job would keep your mind off the events that led you here. You flip through a folder and look at the location that was printed on one of the papers. Then, you take a peek at the pictures of the people you were meant to track.

Task Force 141.

A multinational task force recently founded, a team dedicated to making the world a better place, and ones that had been causing problems for your current contractor.

You take a deep breath and pack all your things away, ready yourself for the trek to the task force’s current location, and leave the cabin with the determination that kicks in whenever you set out on a mission.

𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

#tf 141 x reader #konni group #al qatala #mw2 fanfic #mw3 fanfic #mw2 #mw3 #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare 3 #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #modern warfare fanfic #cod mw2 fic #cod mw3 fic #mwii #mwiii #sstormyskyess pitch black #storm's creations #sstormyskyess

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