#next i check tags. look for what i can get attached to. if its an AU i wanna read. if its just a fluff-only drabble then nope i cant latch-
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THE NEXT PERSON WHO SAYS IT DOESN'T WORK GETS PUBLICLY EXECUTED VIA HAMMERCAR (check reblogs for further info)
"what's it like to use nightshade/glaze?"
so based on my own experience I thought I'd make this more transparent since I know a lot of people hesitate to take action on some things if they do not know Exactly what happens. it's me i'm people. So;
Nightshade takes about 30 minutes on its fastest setting. The end result tends to look like mild jpeg artifacting, very slightly creased paper, or just brush texturing. Looking at it normally, it is undetectable. Glaze is very visually similar, given the strategy, except that Glaze's longest time setting is 5 minutes.
You put in a file, select how much you want it affected and for how long you want it to render. For Nightshade, you also attach a tag to it, that way AI finds what it's looking for with an associated word. You select a folder for the final result to save to, then hit run.
It takes a lot of GPU/CPU. The fans on my laptop sound a bit like I'm running Minecraft, and it refuses to run if you have too many programs open. I could run Youtube and Nightshade at the same time, but Youtube did Not like it. Best to just take a break while you let it do its thing. Run Nightshade before you go out or something.
It does NOT like transparent png backgrounds. Makes me wonder how AI does with 'em. Anyways, running a backgroundless drawing through Glaze and Nightshade respectively makes it turn out like this:
creasing effect is more noticeable, and it adds strange blocky black and white backgrounds to it. If you want good results for your time, be that less than 1 minute or 180 minutes, consider getting rid of the transparency.
I would post a before and after picture of a Nightshaded piece but of course, I would like to post exclusively poison on this site.
As one last note, it took me a lot of effort to find where you're actually supposed to download these tools, so Glaze is here and Nightshade is here. Overall I highly recommend using them if you can. Don't let AI run you off of your sites: run the AI out yourself.
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The Sticky Note Game
꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦
Summary: You have a silly little game that you, Jake, and Steven play. But someone accidentally messes it up and ends up finding out about said game.
Warnings: None that I actually know of. “Y/N” is used two times.
Author’s Snip: Just a cute thought I had and wanted to write about.
I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.
꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦
It was a game that was originally between you and Jake. It worked like tag where someone was it and they had to make the other person it. But instead of running around the flat and making a bunch of ruckus you would write on a piece for sticky note and hide it where the other would see it. You weren’t sure when this started but it was a thing the two of you did together and was actually really fun when it came down to watching and waiting for the other to see the note and then be it. Well, it was between just you and Jake till Steven found the sticky note that was meant to get Jake.
He was looking through the fridge to see if there were any items that would expire soon. Jake had some beer bottles on one of the shelves that he placed next to the oat milk which he was going to check until he noticed the sticky note attached to one of the bottles that had “You’re it >:)” written on it. He took it off and asked you why it was there.
You laughed for a bit and told the even more confused Steven about this game you played with Jake. Steven nodded in understanding before looking back at the sticky note and then asking “So, what? Does this mean I’m it now?”.
After that, you and Jake had changed the rules to make the game fair. You needed to write who its to, who it was making the tag, no double tags, and you couldn’t say if you knew where a sticky note was. Oh, and co-fronting when a sticky note was being made was cheating because the two alters could tag each other and if you are co-fronting when your tagging note was found by another it counts because you technically saw it.
This game of three went on for a long while too.
Till there was a bit of an issue...
It had been two whole months, and no new sticky note was found and you were starting to get suspicious. You were it and had made a note that would tag Steven by putting the note on the back of one of his books. But Steven made no sign that he saw it. Which didn’t make sense since the book moved spots. So he had to have seen it and had made a sticky note to tag someone else. But none appeared. You even went looking for a note, regardless of it would make you it again.
Out of all of the players to possibly cheat, Steven seemed like he would never. But you shouldn’t put it past him, Steven can be a bastard if he wants to be.
But it turns out that all three of you were silently eyeing each other up since there was no sign of and new tags. Soon Steven decided to go looking for a new sticky note in case it was just that well hidden.
“Steven,” Marc said as he watched Steven looking through the whole flat for something from a nearby refection. “What the hell are you doing? Did you drop something?” he asked. “No. I’m looking for a sticky note, mate.” Steven responded. Marc jerked an eyebrow in confusion. “A sticky note? Wouldn’t that be where you put all your sticky notes?” he asked.
“No. It’s not any sticky note, Marc. It’s a specific one.” Steven clarified and he moved to a different spot to check. “Well, what’s it for?” Marc asked as he followed Steven with a new reflective surface. Steven sighed before speaking. “Okay. Don’t laugh. But me, Y/N, and Jake play this tag game using sticky notes and we put them places for us to find. But it’s been a while and no one’s found the bloody thing.” Steven explained. “I wanna make sure no one’s went on and cheated.” Steven says.
“Who was it last?” Marc asked. “I don’t know, mate. That’s the point.” Steven responded. “I think that would be Y/N.” Marc said out of the blue. “There was a sticky note on the back of one of your books from them to you but it just had a smiley face on it.” Marc confessed. Steven almost banged his head on the bottom of the table he was looking under. “What did you do with it?” Steven asked as if it were life and death. “Which one is it, Marc?” he said looking right at the surface Marc was on. “The green one. I killed a spider with it and saw it on the back.” Marc explained, “I took it off though cause I killed the spider using the back and it got on the sticky note.” he admitted.
“Finally!” Steven exclaimed as he went towards his desk to write on a sticky note to tag someone.
“How long have you three been doing this.” Marc questioned. “Oh, I’ve been playing for while but the other two were the ones playing it originally, I just sort of walked into it and they let me be a part of it.” Steven explained as he took the note off of he pad and placing it in Jake’s hat. “Don’t tell Jake that’s there.” he said to Marc.
“Okay?” Marc said before standing there in the reflection for a moment. “Do you want to join? Seems kind of rude to tell you about the game and not let you participate.” Steven offered. Marc shrugged with a “Sure.”.
A week had passed, during which you heard Jake shout “Son of a bitch!” when he found the note Steven left.
You had woken up in the morning a few days after that and were getting ready to take your morning shower till you noticed a sticky note addressed to you on one of your shampoo bottles saying,
“I’m playing the game now. You’re it.
- Marc”
#moon knight#moonknight#moonknight x reader#moon knight x reader#steven grant#steven grant x reader#marc spector#marc spector x reader#jake lockley#jake lockley x reader
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the first snow (with you)
; enhypen x reader
; genre: headcanon, pure fluff, established relationship
; warnings: none
; 1k words
; tags: @inkelea @bunreis @sobun1est @aylin-hijabi @kbookshelf
heeseung
we all know he's a huge sleepyhead so ofc you woke up first. you staggered out of bed, rubbing your eyes and looking out the window. you caught sight of the blanket of snow enveloping the earth and suddenly you were wide awake.
“hee!! it snowed last night!”
“huh? 5 more minutes..” he groggily muttered in his sleep.
after a decade of trying to shake him awake, you finally got his attention when you said you'd make him hot chocolate if he woke up, which made him sit upright, tangled up in the blanket. can't blame the guy though, i mean, who can resist a steaming mug of hot cocoa?
jay
when I tell you this guy plans out the entire day while you're in the shower and doesn't waste a minute. he takes out the time you'll need to get ready of course, even goes as far as to pick out your outfit and helps you dry your hair and prepares breakfast while you do your makeup! (is he available on amazon??) he remembered you mentioning wanting to go out sledding with him when it snows once so that was first on the agenda, obviously.
later, you asked him if he would like to do the snowman dance challenge with you and he said yes before you've even finished your sentence. this was your first snow with jay and needless to say, it went beyond anything you'd imagined and left you feeling utterly awed.
jake
the two of you were out for a walk after dinner. you sat down on a bench for a minute to take a break and suddenly he exclaimed, “darling let's go to the namsan tower!” naturally you were a little puzzled due to his outburst but he seemed persistent.
“please we have to go! i just checked the weather forecast and it says it might snow tonight!” that got you up on your feet in an instant.
namsan tower is the highest point in Seoul and an ideal spot to visit for the first snow of the winter, there is also cage-like thing for love locks (please look it up idk how to describe it T.T)
you make it just in time as the first fluttery white particles descend from the sky. “quick! make a wish!” you giggle at jake’s enthusiasm and join your hands to make your wish as he does the same. there's no way you're going back home without attaching a love lock for you and jake.
sunghoon
he's absolutely overjoyed about it. this means he can take you ice skating!!!
“but hoon, i don't know the first thing about skating! what if i fall flat on my face?” you whine, but he shuts down your protests and reassures you that he's got you and you have nothing to worry about. it didn't take long for you to cave and the next thing you know, you're renting skates.
you soon find out that you are, by no means, a natural at the activity. your balance isn't the best and you come dangerously close to face planting a few times but your ice prince manages to catch you each time.
of course sunghoon can't resist showing off a little once you decide you've had enough and opt to watch him from the sidelines.
sunoo
snowman! snowman! snowman!
sunoo has been talking of wanting to build a snowman together ever since the day after thanksgiving and cannot wait for it to snow. looks like today's his lucky day. he wastes no time getting both of you dressed in warm clothes and getting supplies for the snowman (buttons, scarf, hat, etc) and drags you out of the house.
this was your first time making a snowman so your first few tries weren't anywhere near successful but you had the framework for a formidable-looking gentleman on your 5th try. sunoo happily claps as he surveys the frame and gets to work scouring for twigs for its arms as you give it facial features along with a scarf and hat so your new friend doesn't get too cold. sunoo inserts its arms in and you couldn't be more pleased with the result.
jungwon
he insisted on staying indoors where it's warm but you convinced him to go out for the winter carnival, eventually. how could he say no to you? as you're walking around the food stalls munching on a corn dog, jungwon squealed out of the blue, startling you. when you asked him what's wrong he said he felt something cold and wet land on his nose. without a word you took his hand and broke into a sprint, pulling him along to the ferris wheel.
“what…are you..doing?” jungwon lets out while panting, trying not to trip. you asked him to wait and make a beeline straight for the ticket counter, leaving him to catch his breath.
next thing jungwon knows, he's on the top of the ferris wheel with you as a flurry of snowflakes rain down. you pull him into a kiss and his boba eyes widen at the abruptness of it, he eventually melts into it. this is definitely going to be one of his most memorable moments with you.
niki
splat!
a gasp left you as a snowball landed on the side of your face, catching you off-guard. you look up to see the culprit snickering. “so that's how you wanna play nishimura? it's on”
you reached down to scoop a handful of snow, shaping it into something like a sphere and launched it at your boyfriend. the battle only ends once you hold up your arms in surrender. riki first bumps upwards into the air as a gesture of victory and runs over to pull you into a hug. the air is filled with your laughs.
“did i go too hard on you?” he quietly asks and only once you reassure him that you're okay does he let go.
“can we make snow angels now?” his face lights up at that.
“thought you'd never ask, m’lady” goddamn it not that smirk! you end up writing your names together in the snow in between the imprints of your snow angels later.
; note: ty @euncsace for the niki snowball fight idea! i hope you like it! exams are creeping up so y'all might not hear from me as often, might even go on hiatus but i'll try to clear out the reqs in my inbox before that!
© mochamvgz on tumblr | all rights reserved | do not copy, repost or translate
#—mochamvgz#k-films#kbookshelf#enhypen headcanons#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen drabbles#enha x reader#enha fluff#heeseung fluff#jay fluff#jake fluff#sunghoon fluff#sunoo fluff#sunoo headcanons#heeseung headcanons#jay headcanons#jake headcanons#sunghoon headcanons#jungwon fluff#jungwon headcanons#niki fluff#niki headcanons#first snow au#enha drabbles#enha headcanons
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Day 5 of winter fluff with Astarion for the BG3 Holiday Challenge!
Prompt: Delicacies
Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav
Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here
Premise: You receive a lovely gift of seasonal delicacies from Alfira, a thanks for helping her set up her new school and being her favorite source of musical inspiration. When you realize that Astarion can’t partake, you find an alternative.
Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Holidays, post-canon, tw: blood
Word count: ~1.1k
Disclaimer: Google told me sugar can take as little as 10 min to enter your bloodstream, so that’s what I’m rolling with.
“What’s this?” As you arrive home, you find a package on your front steps. A small note is tied to it with a delicate purple ribbon. Taking a moment to read the attached note, your face lights up with joy. “Ooo, I need to share this with Astarion!”
You find your vampiric love in front of his favorite spot of the house– the fireplace. Considering how cold it is outside, you’re unsurprised to find him laid before it, like a lounging feline. “Astarion,” you call, checking to see if he’s awake.
He looks up at you hazily, shaking off what seems to be a heat-induced stupor. “Mmm, yes my love? Welcome home.”
“Astarion,” you say again, “Look at what Alfira sent us!”
The man finally sits up, eyes focusing on the package in your hands. “Alfira?” he asks, not fully processing your words yet.
“She sent us this thank you gift,” you say, handing Astarion the box as you move to take off your coat. “You should read her note.”
He pulls the piece of parchment free from the ribbon and reads it aloud, “To my favorite inspirational couple. Thank you for everything, and may the– ugh, she’s too saccharine for my liking.”
“Oh?” you ask, taking a seat next to Astarion on the floor. “I quite liked it. ‘May the ballad of your love continue forevermore.’”
“I may have to ensure that that song she’s writing about us never sees the light of day…” the vampire says in a low tone, though you know the threat has no genuine animosity to it.
You do still give him a good elbow and take the box back from him. “If you’re not going to appreciate that poor, innocent bard’s gift, I will.”
Astarion gives a ‘tsk’, but smiles at you all the same. “Very well, let’s see what she’s sent us.”
With deft fingers, you undo the box’s wrapping, slicing open the ribbon in a single twist. You can feel Astarion’s chuckle as he leans forward to rest his head on your shoulder. “What’s so funny?”
“Just admiring how easily you dispatch your foes, whether they be brain or box,” he answers, and you catch his appreciative smirk out of the corner of your eye.
You give an inelegant snort at his words before tapping his head with your own. “You should see what I can do to vampires.”
"Oh darling, I know full well how easily you dispatch me."
You’re certain he can feel the heat come over your face and neck, but you ignore his words as you open the box in your lap. “Huh,” is the only word that escapes your mouth when you look at its contents.
“Are those chocolates?” Astarion asks, looking down at the box with distaste. In it lay four rows of artisanal chocolates, each a distinct, beautifully tempered delicacy. “She knows I’m a vampire, doesn’t she?"
“Absolutely, she kept asking me for words that rhyme with sanguine,” you say, looking down at the box of sweets in confusion.
Astarion opens his mouth, as if to offer a rhyme, only to close it a second later. “What does rhyme with sanguine?”
“Hells if I know, I’m not a bard,” you answer with a shrug. Astarion grumbles at the sudden movement and leans further into your shoulder with a huff. “Why did she send us something you can’t eat?”
That’s when you spot another note from Alfira, in much more casual lettering, on the inside of the box. ‘I wasn’t sure what I could get for Astarion. I don’t know how his kind work exactly, but I know he calls you his’– the next word is written in a smaller, slightly shakier hand– ‘treat.’ The note continues normally after that. ‘So I hope it’s something you can have together.’
You laugh at how innocent she manages to be, even in writing. “She’s adorable.”
The man next to you takes offense to this, burying his face in your neck now. “Excuse me,” he murmurs into your skin. “You dare.” He places a kiss on your neck. “Say that.” A kiss on your jaw. “With your adorable.” Another kiss on your ear. “Lover right here?”
His pecks leave your skin heated, and you’re tempted to give into his loving attention. However the chocolates look delectable and Alfira’s suggestion is calling to you. “Would that adorable lover listen to me for a moment?”
His lips stop on your shoulder, and he looks at you through his lashes. “You have five seconds.”
It takes you a bit over five seconds, but you explain to Astarion your plan: you taste the chocolate, he tastes your blood. You rinse and repeat until, ideally, you’re both in a sugar-induced coma.
After placing another kiss on your neck, near where he typically bites, the vampire agrees. “Your blood does taste particularly heavenly after a few glasses of wine. I imagine this could be even more… exquisite.” He all but growls the last word, as if he can already taste your sweet blood on his tongue.
You shiver under his breath and grab your first chocolate: a circular truffle, decorated with a pink drizzle. “Let’s try it then.”
This chocolate is a dark chocolate raspberry truffle, incredibly decadent and delicious. You describe it to Astarion as you chew, in case it might make tasting your blood all the more satisfying. After enough time has passed to allow the chocolate’s sugar to enter your bloodstream, he gives you a gentle squeeze with his arms and bites into your neck.
You can feel his soft hum on your skin as he savors it, and he pulls away a second later. “So?” you ask. “How was it?”
Astarion licks his lips to capture any remaining traces of blood and gives you a pleased grin. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are bright with bliss. “Mmm, I think Alfira was onto something. That was divine. I don’t think your blood’s ever been so… rich.”
There’s something about his demeanor, his expression, his compliment, that make you feel especially proud. “Should we try another?”
“Yes, my love. I would like that quite a bit,” he says, laying back on your shoulder while you pick out your next chocolate.
It’s only as you’re chewing your third sweet, a warm apple cider flavor, that you realize why you’re so proud: for the very first time since you’ve known Astarion, you’re able to share a piece of your mortality with him. Flavors may not be the same to him anymore, he may not get the chewy nougat or melting caramel, but it’s something– at the very least you can share this.
The smiles you share that night are warm, the flavors sensational, and the love so very sweet.
You’ll have to send Alfira your own thank you gift later.
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Congratulations on the 400! If I'm not too late, may I send a #mailroom open letter to a yan!Albedo? Any gender neutral or feminine nickname would work and, if it so pleases you, a nsfw reply would be lovely.
__________________________
To my lovely Albedo,
How are you, love? Are you taking care of yourself while I'm away? As I sit here, working away in Inazuma City while I enjoy a sweet dessert, I cannot help but think of you... and your tendency to get swallowed up by your research when I'm not there to reel you back.
I was hoping that my business here would be done far faster than this. I suppose it isn't all bad, though. I can't say that I've ever been a social person, but people have been nothing but kind to me thus far. I may have even made a friend. But still, my heart belongs to you- and as such, no matter how I may enjoy my time, I can only eagerly await the moment I am able to return home.
I miss you dearly, my prince. I'll make sure to work even harder so that our time apart may be shortened by even a little bit. I can't to have you in my arms again, to feel the warmth of your embrace and know that everything is right with the world.
We both know that I could go on with the sweet words for pages and pages, so it's probably best that I stop here. Stay safe and take care of yourself, alright? I love you so, so much.
May my affections cross what feels like an eternity apart,
Your Wistful Lover
(Alongside the letter are various, shockingly well-preserved Inazuman sweets including Sakura Mochi and Dango milk, as well as a small pouch containing a handful of carefully-chosen Sakura Blooms. Lastly is an intricately designed silken blindfold, with its own little note attached that reads, "I had this custom made for you. I wanted to make one myself, but I couldn't find the time. Hopefully you like it anyway!")
꩜ Letter Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Albedo, no gendered terms for reader, Albedo calls you "my constant", mentions of blindfolds and a vibrator used on Albedo, unhealthy and obsessive relationship from Albedo, lmk if I missed anything !
꩜ Delivery Notes: Albedo sure is a busy man to track down... I had to look for him all over Mondstadt since he was gathering quite a collection of alchemy ingredients. It was quite the staggering assortment too... I never understand what he's planning.
꩜ Wanna write a love letter yourself? Check out it out here!
Placed at your hotel doorstep is an innocuous package. It's decently sized, the box a lovely shade of pale indigo and shifting it slightly under the light shows an underlying iridescence hidden in the pigment.
Undoing the sturdy rope securing the lid down, you gain access to the contents within the box. You first retrieve a wondrous blooming bouquet of cecilias, wrapped in a sheer gauzy yellow fabric and tied with a teal satin ribbon. The petals are soft under your caress and for a moment, you reminisce about the first cecilia Albedo gifted to you after showcasing his alchemy.
Next, you fish out a cloth drawstring pouch. Peering into it, there's an assortment of all your favourite Mondstadt candies, enough to last you weeks. A little tag is attached to one of the strings, it reads: “In case you miss your usual sweet treats and need a boost of energy. ♡”
Unwrapping one, you pop it into your mouth before you pull out an envelope. The paper is smooth under your fingers and an impressive sketch of Dragonspine decorates the front. Flipping the envelope over, there's a wax seal, a cursive letter “A”, with flecks of gold dotted in it.
Carefully, you open it and obtain the parchment inside. His handwriting is a sight you've missed, from days spent watching him jot down his hypothesis and findings in his laboratory. Albedo's response to you reads:
“Replying to: My beloved constant.
Thank you for writing to me, my constant, I was growing somewhat nervous with your prolonged silence and I feared something unsavoury might have happened to you. As such, I am writing back to you to assure you that I've been doing alright as well. Though, I'm sure I would do a lot better with you by my side.
Next, I must thank you for the gifts you sent me. I shared the sweets with Klee and she has been pleading nonstop with me for more. Also, the sakura blooms were of high quality and proved immensely useful in my research. If you're willing, I can share my findings with you when you return, my constant.
Now, I can't help but ask what went through your mind, gifting me such a sly gift as a blindfold. What scene did you picture in your head? Was I blindfolded and tied up on your bed while begging for you to please touch me? Or perhaps I'm laid on my laboratory table, my sight obscured with the silk, pliant and willing as you drag a vibrator across my skin in an attempt to find my erogenous zones? Did you fantasise about muffling my moans with a kiss as you toyed with me? You should reenact it with me as soon as you get back, my constant, I feel as if I'm about to burst with how much I long for your embrace.
Ahem, getting back on track, I too have been working hard. (Fret not, I have not been overworking myself. I do not wish to worry you after all.) And I've made discoveries of my own and uncovered intriguing new possibilities whilst ruminating alone in my laboratory. I heard of the Inazuman archon's dedication to eternity.
Eternity... goes against natural orders, but lately, I have been finding myself relating to her obsession with such a concept. You might think it strange, my constant. However, I can understand how fearing the loss of someone close to you can affect your decisions, despite the morality of said actions.
You are golden in my eyes, unforgettable, and the time I spend with you feels like I'm the closest to unravelling the truth and meaning of this world. Is it my greed talking when I say that I want more time to uncover all of you, to understand the very fibre of your being, to see what has irreversibly drawn me to you and what makes you stay by my side? Maybe it is, but that is a question best saved for another day, my constant.
I shall end my letter here. I sincerely hope that the rest of your stay in Inazuma goes smoothly and safely, and that your return will be swift. I cannot wait to have you by my side once more, my constant. I love you so, so much as well.
Ever and eternally yours,
- Albedo -”
You fold the parchment and place it back into the envelope. One last item rests in the box. It's a handpainted painting of you, framed in an intricate wooden frame. Albedo captures your smile in the sunlight, the background featuring one of the picnics the both of you went on recently before you left for Inazuma.
However, you notice that one of the corners is a little wrinkled. Removing the backing of the frame to fix it, you discover another layer of canvas material behind that first painting. Gingerly, you peel it back to reveal a haunting portrait of the both of you.
In dim lighting, you're seated on his laboratory table whilst he's knelt at your feet, his head resting on your lap. You almost don't recognise yourself. You're familiar with his art style but in this, you're ethereal to an eldritch degree... almost devoid of humanity. It's unnerving, to say the least.
Perhaps Albedo's research has veered into more forbidden territories, challenging the principals of nature, all in the name of love. You muster one more look at the portrait.
A matching star rests delicately on your neck. In the bottom corner, he titles it “New birth.”
Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡
#📜.qi celebrates#📜.Mailroom Open!#📜.qi writings#📜.qi musings#📜.qi chats#chats with a hotel guest!#yandere#genshin x reader#genshin smut#sub genshin#yandere genshin#albedo x reader#albedo smut#sub albedo#yandere albedo#yandere smut#sub yandere#dom reader#aaaand here's your reply from Albedo!! hope you enjoyed it ! ^^#do let me know hehe <3#apologies that it took a while too! ><
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Hi! Can I please have Zsasz from Gotham with a reader who is like his partner in crime and kills with him and stuff? Thanks
‘IN BLOOM,
-GOTHAM!VICTOR ZSASZ X READER-
⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; you just might be his favorite girl.
⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!victor x female reader. wrote hcs! readers a bad bitch. victor and reader being partners in crime. victor becoming obsessive after like, 5 seconds. Might write a part two to this ahh
♫ “And he likes to sing along / And he likes to shoot his gun” In Bloom by Nirvana
⋆ Oh, he didn't know it was possible to be so head-over-heels. Victor is self-aware to a fault, he knows when he's being a bit of a creep. And with you? It's as if all his deepest sadistic urges are brought to a front. And he gets drunk on it.
⋆ He has a cold heart, naturally. Not a fan of getting attached to people, especially those who may become a future target. And god knows he doesn't like competition, either. Which is why discovering you was a revelation; that he could for one even like someone so close in his ball game.
⋆ There had been plenty of whispers about you in the streets of gotham. He didn't care much. The only thing he should care about was who Falcone ordered him to kill next.
⋆ But, alas, when he heard the growing commotion about "Y/N, gothams most dangerous hitman," he got a bit...irked.
⋆ What the hell? Isn't he gothams most dangerous hitman?
⋆ Victor takes great pride in his work, and in his title. He knows he has exceptional talent and even greater work ethic. So why is this woman threatening him?!?
⋆ So, he decided to pay you a little visit.
⋆ For gothams newest most dangerous hitman, you certainly have a way of making things easy.
⋆ He found your apartment in no time, gladly making the place his own. It was surprisingly ordinary, pictures of you and friends littering the wall. It was your collection of guns that made him stop in his tracks. He analyzed the wall with great fascination, silently gazing at an assault rifle. His gloved hands danced over the barrel, making it his own. He let out a low wolf whistle as he peered down it's scope.
⋆ "It's an AR-70." A voice pulled him out of his thoughts. It was the first time someone had managed to sneak up on him, not the other way around.
⋆ It took every fiber of his body to remain stoic.
⋆ He turned to face you, the owner of the weapon. Victor glanced at the gun being referred to and nodded his head slowly, still looking at your face. His confidence returned to him easily.
⋆ "Hot-damn. Some top-notch stuff you got here." His voice was slow, and his gaze returned to the wall. He dragged his finger along some of the firearms hung up, before turning to you once more.
⋆ "Should really make yourself harder to find if you're going to be in the business. It's unprofessional, you know?" He cocked his head and gave you a fake grimace. You just smiled.
⋆ "And what does Victor Zsasz want with me? You on your bosses orders?
⋆ "Nah." He responds, casual. "I only wanted to meet you in person, just to know who you are. Check you out. Don't worry about it, you're not on my list," He clicked his tongue. "yet." He finishes, as he toys with the gun from the rack, checking its quality.
⋆ "You like the rifle?" You study him, head to toe. His trigger finger expertly dancing along the weapon.
⋆ Without turning his head, he answers you. "I do, but I prefer my handguns." You hear the click of him checking to see if the gun is loaded.
⋆ You hum. "To each there own. You want it?"
⋆ This takes him by surprise, and he finally tears his gaze away. You've piqued his interest even more now.
⋆ "...For real?" He narrows his eyes on you. "...You're just gonna, what, let me keep it?"
⋆ "Why not? I got plenty." You nod towards the wall, biting your lip. His eyes glance at your mouth.
⋆ You catch him off guard. He actually seems amused by you. Maybe it's your attitude that's rubbing off on him. A few moments pass then he shrugs. You can't read his expression but his body language speaks volumes.
⋆ "...Yeah, I'll take it."
⋆ "Ah ah ah..." You whisper, taking a step closer. He still clutches the gun in his hand while he feels your own rub over his leather-clad arms. He keeps eye contact with you, mouth slightly agape. "On one condition." You continue.
⋆ He perks up and looks at you curiously. His eyebrows raise, ready to hear you out.
⋆ "Invite me to your next hit. We can double team it, or something. I dunno," You pause, looking up at him. "Would be an honor to kill with you, Victor Zsasz." You whisper into his ear, only moving back when you're done.
⋆ Your proposal actually made him laugh. You see him crack a smile as he looks away from you for a second. Look at you, he thinks. Coming by, kissing the ring. He can admire the respect.
⋆ "Quite the character, aren't you?" He pauses, "I've got a job to do tomorrow, wanna tag-along? It's gonna be an easy one, I won't go too hard on you."
⋆ You both feel the corners of your mouth twitch at this, in anticipation. This is where the seeds of obsession first blossom for him. Oh, he likes you.
⋆ When he finally leaves, he feels like a kid in a candy store. New rifle in hand, and your phone number elegantly typed into his own. He forgets all about his previous misgivings with you.
⋆ You on the other hand are left smiling, for a sociopathic sadist, he is real fucking cute.
⋆ The closest way into a mans heart is with a gun. You chuckle.
#gotham#x reader#gotham x reader#batman#dc comics#victor zsasz#victor zsasz headcanons#victor zsasz x reader#gotham victor zsasz#victor zsasz gotham#gotham villains#gotham villains x reader#gotham imagines#batman x reader#batman rouges gallery#batman rogues
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wip poll winner: Murder Husbands
So this is way longer than the 22 sentances I was supposed to post, but I got carried away with things, and well....here you go. Freshly written, unedited snippit from the next chapter of Murder Husbands, inspired by this tik tok video. (cw: mature themes)
Remus has been in what you might call a slump. He just hasn't felt much like himself lately— this happens from time to time. He has a lot going on in his life, between his cat sitting business, helping out Sirius with his art students, and the plotting and execution of murder. Most people don’t realise that murder properly undertaken takes a lot of energy and planning. Remus is just running on empty and in desperate need of something to brighten his spirits. When one of his favourite kids in Sirius’ class started talking about his Ticky-Tock videos, Remus knew that it was just the thing to turn his week around. Teddy explained that Ticky-Tocks were short videos to share with friends. He played a few for Remus, and he especially liked the ones with people dancing. He didn’t have a ton of friends, but he did have Sirius. He wanted to make a really cool Ticky-Tock for him. He had Teddy help him download the application to his phone, set up an account and show him the basics on how to record.
As soon as he got home, he prepared himself to record. He already knew the perfect song, but he needed to put on his best duds. He chose his form-fitting blue jeans and a simple white, short sleeve button up, paired with his favourite striped, burgundy sweater vest over top. He put on his Casio A168W ElectroLuminescence (it’s water and blood resistant— technology is insane) and his favourite pair of glasses to complete the look.
He fumbled with his new iPhone (a gift from Sirius on his birthday), positioning it against the exposed boards on the wall inside of the west servant’s passage, and double checked how he looked onscreen (suave, as always). Once he was satisfied that his phone wouldn't fall over, he set it to play Everything She Wants and began his carefully choreographed performance, perfectly on beat with the song. He shakes his hips seductively and lip-syncs along. When he’s done, he watches it back and is pleased with how well it turned out. He posts the video to his account and sends a link to Sirius. He feels so much better now. He thinks he might have the strength to finally set about getting rid of Mitch’s body. Just in time too— it was starting to smell.
****
Sirius receives the text message from Remus while he is out to dinner at Chez L’éponge with some work colleagues. He plays the attached video through once, hiding his phone under the table as he does. He freezes once the video finishes, and has to excuse himself to hide in the bathroom so that he can watch it again. It’s a Tik-Tok video of Remus, set to a Wham! Song, with the caption Whammin’ in bold letters across the top. Sirius watches as Remus awkwardly shuffles backwards, clapping his hands and pointing at the camera rhythmically, doing a dance that Sirius could only describe as a rendition of the Monster Mash. He is looking at the camera with intensity from behind his horn-rimmed glasses and has a smear of dried blood on his cheek that also seems to be speckled on his sweater vest. Sirius licks his lips and then plays it a third time. Then a fourth. God, there is something so irresistible, so alluring in the way that Remus moves like a baby giraffe that just figured out how to stand on its own legs. Sirius has to hurriedly lock himself in a cubicle while he whacks off to Remus Whammin’, the video playing on repeat until he comes with a groan that he tries to smother with a bitten lip. When he’s done, he exits the stall and washes his hands. Before he goes back out to re-join his coworkers, he replies to the message from Remus with an emoji thumbs up.
@kaleidoscopexsighs, @spindrifters, @fruityindividual, @grimjobs and @lynxindisguise are the ones who tagged me for the original survey!
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10: Motel Hell
(previous)
desperate to get out of nelton, you make a risky decision and find somewhere to stay along the road.
->contains gore, graphic description of corpses.
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.
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Home is west. Northwest now, so far away it feels like the edge of the world.
You’ve tried to get there a few times. Every now and then, you’ll get lucky. The Drift will have mercy and you’ll end up so close you think you can taste it, the pull urgent but not so taut and uncomfortable. Somehow, it’s always eluded you. You get turned around, your inner compass spinning haywire. The road spits you out just east, too far north, not at all where you mean to go. Lost—that’s what you are. But you never feel that way until you try to find home.
And even if you ever reached it, would it be worth the trouble? Would anyone see you as kin, or would it be a town full of strangers? You don't try anymore. Home is best left abstract and distant.
Night is falling. The shadows grow. The sign seems to lunge through the fog, sudden and vicious. “DRIFT INN. NEXT EXIT.” It’s not close enough to spot off the highway, but you do see a spatter of streetlights and neon. Not enough for a town, just a small place between things for the unlucky and desperate. Anything is good enough for you now. The exit is an uphill zigzag, a silent intersection with a light that takes too long to change.
You see two long gray slabs with red roofs. Nothing around but concrete and tufts of hardy grass growing in the cracks. The parking lot is sparsely occupied, a couple windows aglow behind drawn curtains. Still, you hesitate. Your recent misfortunes have left you somewhat wary. You consult your map. You’ll make the final push for the University tomorrow, get there by dusk. South, then east? Or start heading east now? For once, you find yourself hoping there’s no town in that vast distance, no unexpected detours.
Something flits past the window as you’re planning your morning route. It’s gone when you look up but you were sure, for just a second—
And then you see it. Another, drifting silently into your windshield. Landing on the glass and melting to nothing. The sky is the color of a coming storm. Your heart starts to race.
[NOW PLAYING ON THE RADIO: SATURDAY NIGHT BY THE MISFITS]
The automatic doors wheeze open. A single fluorescent tube buzzes overhead. The floor is grimy-looking tile and the walls are off-white. Nobody’s sitting behind the check-in desk. All you can hear is the whirr of an electric fan in the corner and a crackling radio on the counter.
A tiered shelf against the wall displays travel brochures coated in a fine layer of dust, advertising the orchards and public gardens of Green Valley. These must be old. There is no Green Valley anymore—it’s been called the Stillwoods since before you were born, although the occasional antique road sign marooned along the highway might still bear the old name.
The doors open again behind you. There’s a woman standing there, hands in the pockets of a gray peacoat. She’s wearing heels and her hair is meticulously pinned into a neat bun.
She gives you a quick, appraising look. “Hey there,” she says. “Checking in?” You nod and she slips behind the check-in desk, noticeably keeping her distance and never turning her back towards you. She doesn’t give you a price or ask how you’ll pay, simply reaching for a room key off the back wall and setting it on the desk. You don’t think there was a courier sign on the door. Your visible apprehension makes her grin. “So…I don’t actually work here. But I saw you pull up and thought you might appreciate a hand. There’s four of us here tonight.”
You take the key, the plastic tag attached reading 108. “Is the place abandoned?” you ask. That wouldn’t surprise you. This motel was clearly attached to the Stillwoods once upon a time, but now it’s out here in the middle of nowhere. That happens sometimes, during a particularly violent shift or an anchorware malfunction. That’s how the University became its own city, too.
The woman makes a noncommittal sound. “Not exactly. At least, it wasn’t when I got here. It’s like this, see?”
She leans back and turns the handle of the door behind the desk. As soon as it’s cracked open, the smell of blood comes rushing out. She opens it just far enough for you to glimpse the back room and the body inside: head so badly bludgeoned that you don’t realize it’s lying face-up for a while, jaw broken and wrenched open so wide the mouth is more like a gaping wound of teeth. There’s blood pooling on the floor and arterial sprays arcing on the walls. Fresh enough to drip.
The woman yanks the door shut again. She looks unbothered, you think, unusually cheerful considering the situation. She adjusts her small, rectangular glasses on the bridge of her nose. “See what I mean? Kind of a mess. I’d have taken off by now if not for how the sky looks. Rather take my chances here than out in a Drift storm.” The snow is heavier already, a thin layer blanketing the pavement outside. “Anyway, wanna get settled in? 108’s right with the rest of us. Gotta keep an eye on each other, after all. Hard to say who’s a mimic and who’s not.”
You frown. A mimic wouldn’t waste that much food.
The woman is friendly, at least, and endlessly talkative. She’s a University graduate. She’s been living in Splitrock Junction for the past few years, testing the water and soil for “intrusional particles,” but she’s looking for a career change. “Anchorware! That’s where the money’s at,” she tells you. “That’s the future of the Drift, you know. It’s caught on in all the major industries but it’ll get more affordable later. The lab where they build that stuff makes the University look Stone Age. God, if I could get my hands on some of that equipment…”
You barely say a word as she leads you outside and across the parking lot to the adjacent building. Four rooms are occupied in a row, lights on, muffled voices coming through the doors. You walk up in time to catch part of a conversation—an argument, more accurately. They’re talking about mimics.
“So you’re telling me the one that’s see-through and foggy like frosted glass isn’t called a glass mimic?”
“Glass mimics are literally made of glass, man. Or something kind of like it. It shatters if you hit it hard enough.”
“Kind of like it? So they’re not actually made of glass. They don’t even resemble glass.”
“I didn’t name them, okay?”
The woman pauses to knock on 106. “We’ve got another,” she says.
106 opens just slightly, the door halting on a chain lock. The face that peers out at you is obscured by a surgical mask and a pair of sunglasses. “Shit, Chatterbox made it back in one piece,” he mutters. “So either it left you alone or you’re the mimic.” The doors on either side of him creak open. A man pokes his head outside of 105, looking nonplussed. Nobody comes out of 107 but you hear a quiet huff, a quick exhale of laughter.
“Well, this is all of us,” the woman says. “We’re a little short on trust right now so you’ll have to settle for nicknames. That’s Newbie in 105. He’s from outside. Like, outside, you know?”
“Outside the Drift?” you ask, startled.
Newbie frowns. He’s blond and clean-shaven, wearing an open suit jacket and loosened tie. “Couldn’t we have picked our own nicknames? God, it’s freezing all of the sudden.”
“This totally normal, not at all suspicious guy lurking in 106 is Glasses.”
“Bite me,” Glasses snarls. “Half the mimics out here copy faces. You’re not getting mine.”
The woman rolls her eyes. “Shrug is in 107. He’s kinda quiet. Second most likely to be a mimic, if we’re making accusations.”
107’s door opens slightly wider. The man standing there doesn’t show his face, keeping his head down and his hood up, hands stuffed in the pockets of an oversized sweater. He’s on the shorter side. “Hm,” he says, and shrugs.
“And I guess I’m Chatterbox.” The woman laughs. “I’m in 104. The walls are really, really thin, we mostly just yell at each other. Nobody else around so it’s not like we’re bothering anyone.”
You unlock 108 and find a small, musty-smelling room. There’s stiff, crusty carpet, a single bed with sheets that feel like packing paper, and a closet-sized bathroom. You put your backpack on the bedside table and add the Drift Inn to your map.
“So what are we calling you, stranger?” Chatterbox yells. She’s right, the walls are really thin. Four rooms down and you can still hear her fairly clearly.
“Courier,” you say back.
The wind picks up outside, growing from a whisper to a vicious howl. You peek through your curtains and find your footsteps in the snow have nearly been filled in already as more blows across the motel parking lot. You scan the row of cars parked out front apprehensively. The one you saw in the blizzard was an SUV, you think. Silver. Hard to make out in the haze and all the white. You don’t see it out there now. You’d like to tell yourself that those two things can’t possibly be related, but there’s a corpse behind the check-in desk, beaten so badly the face barely looked human.
You don’t want to think about it. You let the curtains fall back into place and sit on the edge of the bed. “Newbie, you’re from outside the Drift?��� you ask. “What made you decide to come here?”
You hear him clear his throat nervously. “I’m doing market research, you could say. There’s a lot of interest in developing the Drift, getting it connected to the rest of the world. You guys are missing out on a lot of things. Phones are only local, right, so you can’t call Prismville from the University. And mail takes forever since you don’t really have a reliable delivery service. Uh. No offense, I mean.”
“Didn’t some outsider company already try getting a foothold here a while back?” That sounds like Glasses. “Like a decade ago or something. Putting all those cables in the ground, then acting surprised when they got fucked up after a couple shifts.”
“Ohhh, that’s right! They started growing skin and then they all slithered off,” Chatterbox says.
“Is that what those are?” you ask. “I’ve seen those before. They’re farm pests, mostly. They really like eggs.”
“Mhm,” Shrug adds.
“Can I ask about that? What’s up with the eggs?” Newbie says. “Why are they everywhere? I keep seeing people eat them raw, shell and all.”
Chatterbox laughs. “So those aren’t actually eggs.”
“You’re pulling my leg.”
“No, I mean, they look just like eggs, right? So we call them eggs.”
“Oh, so these get called by what they look like, huh?”
“Okay, look, there are different kinds of shifts, right? Depending on how things are intersecting, or if they’re intersecting at all, and sometimes—”
The wind shrieks and the windows shake in their frames. Snow drifts under your door, melting on the carpet. Through the space beneath the curtains, all you see is white. “It’s getting bad out there,” Glasses says quietly.
“I, ah, thought the Drift didn’t get snow?” Newbie asks.
“It doesn’t,” Chatterbox says. “Unless the Road Ripper’s around.”
There’s a pause. You’re holding your breath. Glasses is the first one to speak up again, scoffing, “That shit’s an urban legend. Nobody could live out on the road that long.”
“Hm,” Shrug agrees. Or maybe disagrees. You’re not sure.
“What if he doesn’t, though? What if he does come into town sometimes, drifts in and out before anyone realizes who he is?” Chatterbox insists. “It’d be easy. He could slip out with some couriers and nobody’d know. Maybe he is a courier.”
There’s another, longer pause. “Wh—really?” you say, incredulous. “I’m not a serial killer.”
Chatterbox makes a thoughtful sound. “Well, a serial killer would probably say that.”
“I was the last one here! How could I have killed somebody?”
“Not saying you did it, just saying maybe you should leave first in the morning,” Glasses mutters.
The idea of falling asleep here unnerves you, but your car won’t be warm enough. You consider shoving a chair under the door. It’s flimsy, certainly nothing that’ll deter somebody hellbent on killing on you—somebody with the kind of strength you saw—but you’ll hear it fall over at least. You take a quick shower and crawl into bed, too tired to care how stiff the mattress is. The others are loud but the wind drowns them out after a while and the conversation dies down.
Maybe you won’t sleep, you think. You’ll just lay here on your side, facing the door and the windows. Listening for footsteps in the snow, or a car pulling up. Just a few hours, you think, checking the clock. A few hours until dawn, at least. Maybe the blizzard will have moved on by then. You try to keep yourself moving, shaking your foot or tapping your fingers. The room is frigid, the heat barely able to keep up with the cold air seeping under the door, but exhaustion is slowly gaining on you. It becomes a struggle to keep your eyes open.
“…I heard that’s a thing he does,” Chatterbox is saying, sounding muffled and far away. “He picks somebody and follows them around for a while, but he lets them go a few times before he actually kills them. And it’s not like he just leaves other people alone, but that’s kind of different. It’s like he’s whetting his appetite or something. Picks off other people so can hold himself back from whoever his main target is. Maybe it’s a mimic thing? Do you think he shapeshifts? I had a friend back at University who specialized in mimics, I think some of them do similar stuff…”
Your eyelids flutter. Just a few hours, you remind yourself. A few hours and then…
You can’t breathe.
It’s dark, a deeper black than night in every direction, and you can’t breathe. There’s something—something around your neck. Squeezing too tight. Wanting to split you open, wanting to tear into the soft flesh of your throat. It wants to, yet it never does. But even when it lets you go, uncoiling slowly, slinking out of sight, your lungs are on fire. You heave and you choke and you try to scream but you can’t get any air, can’t breathe. You can’t remember how.
There’s something in this darkness with you. You can’t see it but you can hear it breathing in deep, echoing sighs. You can sense its vastness, the crushing weight of its attention. You’re trying to run but your legs are weak and sluggish, flailing, going nowhere. The air ripples and it’s here, above and all around you. Silent. Observing. Your neck throbs where it touched you, skin tender and throbbing with your heartbeat, and still you can’t breathe.
There is a dark moon above you. It’s a misshapen pearl, a silvery stone with a hole punched through its center. It’s growing as it sinks from the sky. It’s bigger than you, bigger than your car, so close you think you could reach out and touch it.
It blinks.
You gasp and jolt awake. It must be morning. Weak light trickles under the curtains. You’re cold, but not as cold as you were last night. The stench of blood is thick and cloying. Your door is open, the chair you wedged under it knocked aside.
You sit up slowly. The room is red. Every breath draws in the smell of rust and rot. There’s hardly a surface in the room that hasn’t been spattered in gore. The walls are glistening with it. There are dark red puddles hardening into the carpet. The bedspread is soaked through beside you because there is a body there, posed atop the sheets as though it climbed into bed with you. It doesn’t have a face, just a head so badly bludgeoned that it could be a split pomegranate, soft and gooey and oozing chunks of meat through cracks in its skull.
It’s wearing a peacoat, gray wool spattered with blotchy red stains.
You scramble out of bed, lunging for your shoes. The carpet is so saturated it squishes wetly under your steps. There’s another body curled up at the foot of the bed in the same unsightly condition, intact except for the gristly paste where a head should be. Blood and brain matter spill across the floor in a pinkish smear, bits of vertebrae poking through the taut, torn flesh of the neck. Newbie’s tie is half-submerged in the slurry, tightened into an uncomfortably small knot.
The third corpse is propped up against the door, seated with its back against it. You shove it aside. You try not to look. But you see red, you see a scalp split apart and a broken shell of skull fragments underneath, little white slivers floating in a soupy clot. A gush of thick, partially coagulated fluid spurts out when it thunks against the ground in your haste to leave, dislodging the sunglasses folded neatly in its lap.
The morning air is crisp. It’s just cold enough that some of the snow has stayed, the shallow layer left revealing the spotted prints of snowboots, a trail of blood, and smooth drag marks. Every door is wide open, a mess of red slush inside. The gruesome trail wanders out of your room and then rounds the corner, vanishing into a section of the parking lot you never thought to check. Nothing is parked there now but you still feel nauseous with fear.
Strangely, 107’s snow is clean. You notice as you’re leaving, starting your car, headlights flashing into the open rooms. Everything else is slick and splattered, dark red puddles frozen to the bed, except 107—the room right next to yours. The footprints, you notice, come out of that room clean. They go only in one direction; only leaving.
You try desperately to remember Shrug’s face but you never saw it. He was careful, keeping his head angled down and his gaze lowered. Maybe it’s just hindsight, fear coloring your memories, but thinking back, you thought he might’ve had a small smile on his face when you looked at him.
(next)
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TAYLOR READS 2023: SYSTEM COLLAPSE BY MARTHA WELLS
Title: System Collapse (The Murderbot Diaries #7) (2023)
Author: Martha Wells
Genre/Tags: Science Fiction, First Person, Agender Protagonist
Rating: 9/10
Date Began: 11/19/2023
Date Finished: 12/31/2023
In the aftermath of the alien contamination incident of the Adamantite colony, Murderbot and its humans face a new challenge. Barish-Estranza, a major corporation, seeks to claim the planet and its inhabitants as salvage, which would doom the colonists to contract slavery. To save them from this fate, the non-corporate humans must find a way to convince the colonists to trust them and reject Barish-Estranza’s offer.
But after a nervous breakdown, Murderbot has problems of its own. Unable to trust its own judgment, Murderbot must come to terms with its distressingly human response to the traumatic events of Network Effect— all while keeping its humans from accidentally killing themselves in the cutthroat political climate Barish-Estranza brings to the Adamantite colony.
“On the team feed, Ratthi asked, Can we come down and help you, SecUnit?
No, I told him. He hadn’t asked me what I was doing, probably because he was afraid I didn’t know. Which, valid, but this time I actually did know. I continued around the edge, because if I was right, the first one would be directly attached to the pad. If it wasn’t here, I was going to look incredibly fucking stupid and the humans were going to assume because of redacted I—
Oh, here it is.”
For live reading notes, check the reblogs (contains unmarked spoilers).
Content warnings and review (spoiler-free and spoiler versions) under the cut.
Content Warnings: Mentioned -- Murder, torture, sexual slavery.
Depicted -- Slavery, PTSD, self-hatred, emotional manipulation, dehumanization, violence, gore (kinda), death (implied)
**SPOILER-FREE REVIEW**
This section is spoiler free for System Collapse, but not The Murderbot Diaries as a whole, so please keep that in mind!
I've consistently enjoyed The Murderbot Diaries throughout its run. The strikingly relatable narration Murderbot supplies makes the books approachable and entertaining to read, despite often delving into disturbing and dark subject matter like slavery, depression, and anxiety. The book chronologically preceding this one, Network Effect, is one of my favorite novels of all time. While System Collapse doesn't reach those heights (and it doesn't need to), it's yet another story following Murderbot's adventures and struggles with personhood, so I predictably liked it.
System Collapse occupies a more transitional space than previous entries. We end the novel in much the same place as in Network Effect, literally and metaphorically. Murderbot makes the same decision it does at the end of Network Effect; to leave its Preservation humans and travel with ART and its crew instead. I question whether System Collapse was originally planned when Network Effect was written; as a story, it feels tacked onto that entry. It's just more of that book-- a continuation of some loose threads from it.
However, this isn't a criticism, at least not yet, because despite feeling similar to Network Effect, System Collapse introduces critical character development in order for the next arc, which I imagine will focus more on ART and the University, to succeed. I'll get into more detail about that in the spoiler section, but I have no problem with a break from the extreme high stakes tension of Network Effect to spend time developing various characters, including Murderbot itself, especially going into the next story arc.
**SPOILER REVIEW**
By far System Collapse's greatest strength is how it addresses Murderbot's trauma post-Network Effect. If I'm right and this entry wasn't originally planned, I'm glad Martha Wells decided to write it anyway, because leaving the long term effects of what Murderbot went through in the air and unaddressed would be a disservice to Murderbot as a character and readers who have undergone similarly traumatic experiences.
In particular, Murderbot experiences a realistic depiction of PTSD, something it's disturbed by and ashamed about. System Collapse can often be a brutal read because Murderbot is so hard on itself, seeing itself as an incompetent failure for having a reasonable reaction to trauma. It hearkens back to earlier points in the series where Murderbot didn't really see itself as a person, something that has gradually changed over time. But one thing that sticks out to me is a heavier thematic focus on Murderbot's humanity.
Murderbot itself is a construct-- a combination of machinery and cloned human material. We know it has a human face, human neural tissue, and some organic body parts, but the series to this point has focused on Murderbot's PERSONHOOD rather than its HUMANITY, which are separate things in this series. Murderbot itself doesn't identify as human, usually avoiding the association and approaching the world as a machine would. So after Murderbot suffers its PTSD episode, when ART says “this affects the part of you that is human," and Murderbot doesn’t outright deny that assertion, it's VERY striking to a long time reader. Murderbot's human aspects have to this point been depicted as a nuisance, something Murderbot feels neutral about at best and dislikes at worst.
System Collapse makes a direct connection between a fundamental aspect of Murderbot's character and this idea of humanity. It's something that seems obvious in retrospect but as far as I know is the first time the narrative directly addresses it. Murderbot LOVES the TV show The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon. As an autistic-coded character, Murderbot's primary special interest IS Sanctuary Moon (and the concept of human media as a whole). It watches favorite episodes of this space soap opera to comfort itself when it feels stressed or overwhelmed. One reason Murderbot cites for not hating humans despite what they've done to it, even before meeting humans it likes, is their ability to create media.
Yet when we meet ART in the second book, a space ship bot with greater than human intelligence, it doesn't understand the emotional aspect of media at all. It needs to watch TV shows by seeing the reactions of others to get full context. One of the ways ART and Murderbot initially bond is through watching shows together like this. Murderbot cites "human neural tissue" as a requirement for fully understanding media. Yet here in System Collapse that same neural tissue causes major problems for Murderbot— the trauma response.
One connection System Collapse makes to Sanctuary Moon and why it's so important to Murderbot is that, after hacking its governor module pre-series, Murderbot used Sanctuary Moon to heal and rewire its brain. Murderbot has always had some human aspect to it, whether it likes to acknowledge this or not. And one of the things most precious to it is something it would not be able to fully understand or appreciate otherwise. So Murderbot has to grapple with both positive and negative aspects to, as ART identifies (correctly, I feel), its humanity. I was hesitant about this framing at first, as the series to this point has avoided addressing this so directly. But on reflection I REALLY like it, and am interested to see how the next entry expands upon this.
Beyond Murderbot itself we do get development of some newer characters. Iris, ART’s favorite human, made an appearance in the last book, but gets a lot more screen time in System Collapse. We get a sense of her self doubt, but willingness to do what is right in the face of danger. Another character I really enjoy is Tarik. I honestly can't remember if he made more than a passing appearance in Network Effect. But System Collapse develops him as a human foil to Murderbot; he was part of a corporate death squad and broke free, has trauma associated with that, is the newest member of ART'S crew, and is quietly a badass as like, a background detail, which is pretty funny. With the book's greater focus on humanity and how it relates to Murderbot, I think a character like this has a lot of potential and I'm excited to see where that goes.
Slavery and self-determination are core themes of the series, and we continue with that trend in System Collapse. Barish-Estranza are the primary antagonists and seek to enslave the surviving colonists of Admantine in everything but name, and the conflict focuses on finding a way to convince said colonists to establish themselves as an independent entity to escape that fate. While I don't think it's the most poignant exploration of these ideas in the series, it is nice to see the consistency of The Murderbot Diaries' anti-slavery message and the variety of ways it's explored throughout.
Another overarching plot thread gets expanded upon in this entry-- that of free constructs besides Murderbot. Murderbot encounters a "ComfortUnit" (a cutesy name for a sex slave) earlier in the series and frees it, and we still don't know where it went or what it has done since then. In Network Effect Murderbot frees another SecUnit which it calls "Three", who is a minor character in this entry. During the story of System Collapse Murderbot frees two other SecUnits owned by Barish-Estranza, one of whom helps them during the climax. It's implied this Unit will do what Murderbot initially did and pretend it's still under the governor module's control while continuing to do its job.
So my question is, when does this part of the story all come together? The slavery of constructs is arguably THE conflict of the series. Murderbot has given various constructs the means to disable their governor modules and free themselves throughout the series. Presumably this could cause a chain reaction over time as other constructs free each other. Is this the endgame of the series? I don't know, but I'm excited to find out.
**CONCLUSION**
As always I greatly enjoyed System Collapse and highly recommend the entirety of The Murderbot Diaries. It's one of my favorite series ever and if you haven't read them yet… DO IT! I would not consider System Collapse the best entry in the series (it's hard to beat Network Effect) but it provides compelling character development and food for thought regarding the next story arc of the series.
#taylor reads#book review#9/10#ok putting this as a book i read in 2023 felt weird but. like it's technically true.
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[18/?]
original prompt | complete masterlist
The problem with babysitting your siblings during patrol is that they get reckless. Just because there's an unknown force saving them without them realizing it, they get complacent.
For example, they lose their fair share of Batarangs.
More specifically, Damian loses a lot of Batarangs.
Inari scowls when she finds another one sitting near the edge of a rooftop. Isn't a Batarang supposed to come back to you?! Why don't you ever pick up after yourself Robin?
She slips it into her collection and jumps down into a street to follow Robin. Casting her invisibility, she waits until he's in an alley with a dead end before flicking the blades one by one.
Fwoop.
One pins down the corner of his cape. Robin halts, pinned into place. "What---" He draws his sword. "Who's there?!"
Fwoop. Fwoop. Fwoop.
Before he can register what's happening, more Batarangs fly by, attaching him to the wall until he can no longer move. His katana drops to the ground when one of the Batarangs catch his gloves and trap him to the wall.
"Show yourself!" Robin growls.
Inari doesn't move from her hiding place. Instead, she snaps a photo with her staff and turns on her earpiece to secretly tune in the family comms line. Unfortunately for Robin, he's not able to turn on his comms.
"Has anybody heard from Robin?" Batman asks.
Inari watches with amusement as Robin tries to reach for his ear but fails miserably.
"He went west, right?" Says Red Robin.
"Red Hood, you're nearest. Check in on his location."
Inari grins and leans back to wait for Jason. Red Hood drops into the alley in no time, takes one look at Robin, and doubles over laughing.
"What---what happened to you?!" Red Hood cackles.
"They appeared out of nowhere!" Robin struggles against the Batarangs. "I am guessing that they are my lost Batarangs."
Red Hood snorts. "They came back to haunt you?"
"This is not a laughing matter, Hood! Free me!"
Red Hood snickers. "Hold on a sec." He puts a finger to his helmet. "Hey, Replacement? Yeah, I did. You have to come here . . . No I won't say why. Just come here."
Next, it's Red Robin's turn to laugh at Robin, who glares and flails.
"Take these away!" Robin yells.
"Yeah, yeah, in a minute." The two vigilantes move to his side and Red Robin snaps a quick photo.
Inari smiles to herself proudly. Lesson learned, Damian.
Taglist:
@tinybrie @sinoffalsejudgement @its-maemain @kamarallil @toughluna @golden-promises @whatamoodhoney @trippingovermyfeet @m4ster0fnone @alexizlazy @plz-excuse-my-inner-gay @maybeanalien0-0 @imchaotic-dontmindme @ev-cupcake @flowers-n-fandoms @crusherccme @ji-nk-ies @depressed-bitchy-demon @duskyashe @multplelifes @authorpendragging @iloontjeboontje @thatonecroc
*if you want to be tagged, feel free to ask in the comments and I'll add you to the taglist :)
#maribat marinette dupain cheng#dc x mlb#maribat#maribat fanfic#mlb x dc#bio dad bruce wayne#maribat batfam#fox dcw#maribat fic#dc x miraculous#disclaimer#i have no idea if the batarangs can really do this#but its funny so i'll roll with it lmao
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Wings Of The Dawn | Chapter 4
AO3 link🐾 | chapter 1 | 2 | 3
GIF by loregifs
listen to the fic's playlist
pairing: joel miller x fem!reader
Rating: 18+ (minor smut in this chapter)
Tags: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, Age Difference, Small Town Dynamics, No use of y/n
Word count of the chapter: 7,9k
Next chapter will be posted: October 4th
(You can find a sneak peek of the next chapter at AO3)
Summary of the fic: You are Jackson’s librarian, a doll with a good heart, that has your life changed when a handsome man decides to take his kid and start again in your small town after completing their cross country journey. Having a hard time ignoring Joel’s dark brown eyes, you find yourself wishing to have him close as you both navigate through love triangles, teenage drama, city gossip, and ghosts from both of your pasts. This is a comfort fic filled with slow burn and small town dynamics.
Chapter summary: You and Joel start a friendship, or is that what you try to tell yourself.
｡˚🐾₊˚
CHAPTER 4
Massive droplets of rain hitting the window glass, the way a love one laughs, strawberry with cold cream on a hot day, petting a dog and feeling the softness of its fur. Memory can be attached to almost anything if you have the right moment to gather. Sometimes humans choose something to remember dearly and hold on to, other times we just find out when we least expect it that a memory still is inside of us, even if we don't realize it.
The sound of wood being dragged across the floor, the singular high pitch scratched your mind and resurfaced something you would like to forget: Jason and Albert using their forces to drag a heavy bookshelf to close the door of the church’s archives, as the rest of the family ran to hide inside a vault.
Your ear channel hurt with the sudden sound then just like now, but this time you weren’t hiding from the end of the world thinking it was the final judgment, you were watching Joel dismount a shelf because of you.
Joel had helped you to take all the books from the shelves, cleared a whole day just for it. You didn’t ask him just like he didn’t offer, he simply paid attention to what you said (mostly to yourself) yesterday about the library’s maintenance.
“Shit, shit, shit!” You cursed under your breath, moving your hands quickly from book to book. Joel was right behind you, looking curiously at your stress.
"What's wrong?" He tried to snoop around, but you were focused on finding the bad books.
Paper termites were your father's nightmare and, by extension, yours too. Fast infestation, these little bugs could put down a whole shelf in days if not taken care of properly. Seeing the damage, you separated some books with the brown mass of bugs to discharge, already tracing a plan.
Joel kept quiet floating around you, getting impatient to understand what was happening. You knew that because you started to absorb his mannerisms: he pops a knee to rest or listen better, he chews his mouth corners when lost in thoughts, and – your favorite – he enjoys mimicking your pace and following you from corner to corner while talking.
“Dolly,” he chanted and got your attention right away.
Shit. He never called you by your nickname, just your name, still following your lead from your first official meeting. Watching your hurt expression, he raised his brows and pointed to the books you had separated.
“Oh, sorry. Paper termites, it's a book plague. I'll need to close the library and find the root of it." Grimacing at him, you were already tired thinking of the amount of work to come.
"What's the plan?" His eyes were observing a book from your hands. Joel was so close that you could feel his body heat, something normal since he had started to lower his armor whenever it was just you both.
“Check book by book, eliminate the shelves where I found the infested ones, and make this whole place squeaking clean." You groaned loudly from the thought, Joel just nodded. With his arms in front of his body waiting on your cue, you deposited a book.
“What about the old shelves?” He questioned, still following you from shelf to shelf, holding in his arms the books your trained eyes could see as bad. Your bodies moved in synchrony, already used to each other’s way of walk.
“Make a deal with Alfie, give him these and ask for new ones.”
Looking at him, you made your best effort to not smile at the scowl that adorned his face. You knew he had seen you before with the man, just like he must have found out through the city folks about Alfie’s intentions with you. The idea of Joel feeling jealous was too much of a hope.
“Nonsense. I can make you, and I can make you good.” He simply retorted, not giving space for you to accept or deny his proposal. Sucking on your lower lip with shyness, you looked at his dark brown eyes.
With some seconds of bravery, you placed a sweet kiss on his cheekbone and left to check another shelf. "Thanks, that would be much appreciated."
He picked up his pace and followed you, still holding your books pile. And that’s how, the next morning, you were watching him get the bad bookshelves out of the library.
"Okay, what's the final damage?" He questioned while popping his knee. A light layer of sweat across his deep blue t-shirt that made his eyes appear even darker, to which you thanked the hot weather for forcing Joel to not wear a flannel shirt. His broad shoulders would be the death of you.
“Seventeen books and two shelves. Not bad." Smiling, you raised your hand for a high-five.
“Attagirl,” Joel praised touching his hand with yours. “Will take these books out to burn, it’s too heavy for you. Are any of those Ellie’s favorites?”
"As a matter of fact, yes, one of them is a pun book." Joel furrowed his brows at your sorry tone and sad face, but you quickly amended it with another smile. "I'm fucking with you. She is safe."
Pouting because of your tease, he left with the pile of books without another word. Not that you needed, over time it was implicit that he would always be back. As he left the library, Nath appeared greeting him and holding the door as he passed, giving you a thumbs up when Joel disappeared.
“All good in paradise, huh?” She teased you knowing that, deep down, you would agree.
Life was good with Joel around. You both found excuses to get closer, to insert into each other lives without complicating it. The last days were all about testing waters, putting one foot down hoping it would be warm enough to dive into it.
“See, if I have time – which I don’t – I’d ask you about the hurricane that passed here. I get that the cowboy is from Texas, but holy molly, this place is a mess.”
“Not a hurricane but termites. He is helping with the shelves, not that I need to justify having a friend around.” As you narrowed your eyes Nath got the message. Even if you were getting closer, that was who he was, a friend.
"Easy tiger, I like the cowboy. Even if he doesn't cook or give me a bike, still a cool dude." She shrugged just to inhale deeply right after it, preparing the scene. "Please tell me that you're coming to the movie night this Friday. I put some fucking effort in the program, after all, we're about to enter campaign season." Nath put both hands on her waist, chin up, and smiled broadly with closed eyes, beaming in confidence. Her t-shirt with a drawing of duct tape and the words "lip gloss for whiners" didn't help much in her case.
You knew it was coming around. The summer solstice marked the exact date for the election, every year, with just a month to go. However, one thing is knowing it is getting close, another is being ready for it. In your heart, it was clear that your fear was motivated by the idea of being rejected, especially when you wanted to stay until the end of your days inside Jackson's walls.
Watching you get lost in your head, Nath sighed and snapped her fingers at you. “Earth calling, hello! You’ll be fine, you worry too much about this as if you didn’t know everyone loves you.”
“Loves me or fears you?” Nath contemplated your statement for a second, her eyes looking up almost as if they could see the answers above.
“Both, you’re the jam to my peanuts, Doll. But again, the movie night? Please!” She threw herself dramatically at you, her mouth open as she groaned, taking a loud laugh from yours.
“Stop it, I’ll be there! What’s the program?”
When she wasn’t busy at the Bison or trying to rule the world, Nath liked to watch movies. Not just watch, to be more specific she liked to appreciate the seventh art. If Jason had developed your musical taste, her grandpa would narrate to her movies as bedtime stories. Bicycle Thieves, Chinatown, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, all the classics became part of her daydream scenarios, making her company over the years out in the wild.
When Jackson got electricity again, the first thing she did was to get her hands on movie copies. She learned by doing how to get a screen put on, how to work with movie rolls from an old cinema archive, and more. Gaining access to different titles through patrols, she made quite a collection over time and organized movie nights for the town at the mess hall.
Unfortunately for you, this movie night would be all about thrillers. Rosemary’s Baby, The Omen and The Shining were carefully selected to make a certain 14 year old girl jump from her seat in wonder, not a 32 year old doll happy.
"Tell me you are joking. I hate scary movies, no way! How is this supposed to help your campaign if people are screaming?" You frowned with puppy eyes at your friend, this was another nightmare after the termites.
“Half the city will be there, even the cowboy and his sidekick of a girl. I wish I could make a movie night with cult movies like Oldboy, but this isn't about me, so deal with it. Aaaaand you can sleep at my house later if you get too scared. Just promise me that you’ll be there.”
Nath smiled in a tentative to make you fall for her request. Taking another look at her t-shirt, you knew that you were fucked, she wouldn’t leave you alone, so you nodded to her.
“Perfect! You’re a doll!” She jumped with joy, almost colliding with a book pile behind her. Something clicked inside her mind as she gave a more intense look at the library state. “Remind me again, how you both went from one lunch to him doing all of this? It has been what, a week?”
It had been nine days to be precise. When he showed up at the library's main room, his dark eyes were so immersed in yours that made you forget about him running away the day before, when he fought with Ellie. It was already in the past, the only thing you wanted was to keep watching those eyes.
“What kind of sandwich?” You asked smiling a little. The lines between his brows got softer and his shoulders relaxed, a weight lifted from his back.
“I asked Nath to make me your favorite: tomato, cheese and herbs?” Your smile got bigger, he was trying to remember your order. The image of him going to the Bison, asking Nath to make your favorite, learning your order by heart, and, finally, coming to see you was a sweet vision. He was trying for you.
“That’s nice. Thank you. We can eat in the back.” Jerking your head to the door, Joel followed your lead.
You cleaned up space on the work table, just like you opened a place in your heart for him. Joel sat in front of you, chewing his mouth corners almost as if he was trying to find a way to start talking. Remembering Ellie's tone from yesterday, you took pity and chose carefully your words.
"Mustn't be easy parenting a teenage girl, you seem to be doing a good job at it." His eyes gleamed at the sudden compliment, surprised by how you began the conversation. You took a bite as he still processed your words, a second in silence while thinking still.
“I try to,” he finally spoke. “Yesterday was rough on you, shouldn’t have used your library to solve our business. I’m sorry if we worried you. It was imprudent to involve you in this.”
Every word was placed to sound his intention clear in the hope you would understand his side. Joel's eyes scanned your face waiting for a response. You took your time biting more of the sandwich, observing his impatience in the way his mouth tensed. Ellie, even though not related by blood, did the same when under pressure.
“I’m fine, took me a little by surprise seeing you and her like that. All good now?” The calm in your voice denounced how serious you were. He was so sad by the library’s door when she left yesterday that you could almost carry his weight with him.
"Somethin’ like that, we spoke last night. I gave ‘er time to come to me as you suggested, didn't pressure her." His eyes glued to the table in front, Joel lowered his guard for the first time since the candle's night. You could feel his body giving in as he continued. "She once had too much freedom, it'll take a while to get used to Jackson's pace. I might’ve forced her to believe she was ready for it, too much of my expectation on her back instead of listenin’ to what she wanted. It was stupid."
“Don’t put yourself down like that. You got it wrong trying to make it right. What about now?” Your hand was at his forearm near his watch gripping it lightly, an unconscious move to comfort him.
Joel looked down at your hand, once more deep in thought, but this time you felt his mind was racing not about Ellie. Sucking your lower lip, you waited for his response.
“She needs some space. There's a suite behind the main house, kinda like a guest house. We decided that it'll be her place, more private and still close enough to keep an eye on her. Ellie’s a smart kid, just needs a direction to run on her feet. I'll renovate a little for her, help in the adaptation process."
"What about the school situation?" You still felt guilty for not being able to put together that she was skipping school. Joel had trusted you in a silly pinky promise.
“Solved. She'll be there every day: I'll walk her to it during mornin’, Nath will walk her when the day is done." Joel stated to your confusion. Why Nath? "Ellie asked her and she agreed to it. Don't ask me anythin’ about it. We had to negotiate a little before allowing her to have her own space at the guest house."
“Damn, 14 year old and living by herself. Guess they grow too fast, huh?" Joel smiled at you, looking once more at your hand at his arm.
“Not too fast. I still have the final word and she won’t be coming to the library for a while.” Your hand became rigid, so he added quickly. “She would kill me if I took her main hobby from her. I’ll bring and take the books, guess you’ll see my ugly face around.”
You knew he was joking, his smirk was enough proof, but his self-depreciation made your blood burn.
"Thank you, I was in need of something pretty to make this place better. Your face will be perfect for it." Winking at him, you removed your hand from his arm and resumed eating the rest of your sandwich as Joel snorted, not believing what you just said.
All the initial worry in his body from meeting you faded as the lunch went by. When Joel left, you closed the library as fast as you could and ran to Nath’s house. She chuckled at your big smile and irregular breath, “my favorite sandwich, huh? I need to know more!” you said by the front door.
Holding two mugs of strawberry tea, Nath and you sat on her sofa for a gossip session. Sipping on tea, Nath grinned to start her tell, already with her hands moving as she spoke.
"I was on the back, making a new batch of beer with Seth when he came. Hands on his pockets, messy hair, rough night and all – you know the drill. I knew about the fight 'cause Ellie told me after she ran from the library. Took her to smash some shit out of the city, take steam from her. Anyway, wasn't expecting for him to come to the Bison the next morning.
“First he thanked me for helping her, Ellie opened her big mouth to him about our convos." Nath didn't have to add that the girl hadn't told him about the scheme, it was implicit otherwise Joel would have taken a different route in his approach at the bar. "They made a deal that she needs to stay at school the whole day, she said it would be okay as long I was the one chaperoning her after. I said yes because, well, I want the kid to feel good in this place.
"When I thought the conversation had died, the cowboy took his gun and aimed at my doll. He asked me if you had the habit of eating lunch, and if so, if I could make him your favorite order. He aimed high and I bet on it, put the creamy cheese you're crazy about and delivered in his hands. Before he left I told him that you like to eat at the back house if the company is good, so I gave him another one for himself and that's how the cowboy went out of my saloon to meet you."
“Hold on, you were the one who suggested a lunch for us?” Remembering the meeting, you noticed that Joel intended first to only say sorry and leave, but with Nath giving him some hope he changed his mind.
"Sometimes you need to rely on fate to achieve something. Other times fate is just a blonde with a nice ass on these jeans." She raised her mug in praise for herself.
"You know exactly how we went from one lunch to this, whatever this is. It was your idea." You replied to Nath, who was still examining the state of the library in shock.
"Nope, I gave you one lunch, whatever happened after it is on you, Doll." Deep in thought, you almost missed Nath leave, just hearing from afar a muffled sound about the movie night.
Going back to her words, you pondered if maybe she was right. After all, you actively found reasons for making Joel stay longer every library visit.
The next day after lunch, he came just to deliver the books and get new ones, but you made him help you choose the titles which led to him staying another full hour. The other one you hinted that you were hungry just to see if he would come back and eat with you until it became a habit. He would cross your door mostly at lunchtime, always with something for two in his hands. The room became more alive whenever he was there, the sound of your voices filling the air in a continuous conversation that made you lose track of time.
He would follow you around the library, sometimes just listening to whatever you were telling him, in another making an input here and there. For nine days in a row, he went to the library, including a Sunday when it was closed. "I forgot that you were off Sundays, day went slow without you", he confessed the next day as if it was obvious. You were attached to the hip like two little kids that speak once on the first day of school to never get apart for the rest of the year.
You believed he needed a friend, someone for himself outside family. You wanted to be this person for him, even if deep down you sensed that it wouldn't be enough. However, at this time and place, there wasn't a spot for you if it wasn't next to him.
---
As he walked further from the library, Joel cursed his body for betraying him. He wanted to feel strong, to have you imagining his arms around you just like he did whenever he was alone. Strong, manly, able, all just for you, but time is tricky when it comes to the human body. His back started to hurt badly as he kept walking with that entire book's weight remembering him his age.
Accepting his limits, he lowered the book pile to the ground just to burn it. Nath had entered the library as he left, were you talking about him? Or, maybe, you were talking about how over this week he was just like a dog chewing a bone nonstop by not leaving you alone? Not that he minded too much you thinking about him as he thought of you, the reciprocity wasn't a main factor in his silent crush. The last thing he wanted was to push you towards him, a much older man that you barely knew. Your beauty was fresh, still starting life, while his was decaying at rapid speed with the lines all over his face.
However, he liked to pretend that your sweet way and little touches had intention behind the gesture. You were so touchy, he would never initiate but thank God you were always finding ways to get closer. This was the main reason he liked to follow you around when talking, in your distracted state of mind you would touch him at some point in your story. He could feel your body heat too, you wouldn't jump or run whenever he was close, and once or twice he caught you leaning in his direction.
Sunday has been the absolute worst. He spent the way between his house and the library remembering a joke Ellie had told him, saving in his mind to say to you when he arrived. In his hands mac n cheese he was ready to pretend it was from last night's dinner, not freshly made for you. He saw the "closed" sign at the door and then heard a bicycle horn at the end of the street, just to watch you and Nath's backs getting smaller as the seconds passed by. Your hair blowing in the wind, bootcut shorts going up as you pedaled fast far from him.
Walking back home with his head down, the blue sky seemed less saturated than before, the joke became unfunny. He ate alone (Ellie was at Cat's house) fuming at his ingenuity: why would you be there, picture perfect, for him on a Sunday? His logic made no sense, except that he got used too fast to your presence.
The image of the way those bootcut shorts hugged your thighs and backside slid into his mind. It wasn't unusual, he had been thinking of you wearing shorts since that night when the lights went out. He kissed your cheek, inhaled your scent and lost it when your hand squeezed his shoulder. That morning he woke up hard after dreaming of taking you in his kitchen, to unzip the shorts with his hands savoring every inch of your skin.
Today wasn’t different. He felt himself getting hard as he imagined you sucking your bottom lip before devouring his mouth, push yourself on his lap and allow him to grab your hips closer to his. He palmed his cock, putting pressure as the scene enrolled in his mind.
Your eyes locked with his while grinding your little shorts on his clothed cock, moaning a little with the friction. His spread hands running from your thighs to your ass, squeezing as he felt your tender skin. He was so deep in this wet daydream that he could taste you.
As he freed your legs from the shorts inside his mind, he also freed his cock and started to play with it in a slow rhythm. You were smiling sweetly as you finished undressing, just to grab him by the neck and lay down on your back, getting him on top of you. Making a trail of kisses, he sucked your nipple gaining a jerk from your hips at him. Your hands tugging on his hair, the soft whines from your mouth. Joel increased the rhythm on himself so lost on your reactions, his cock leaking from pleasure.
You spread your legs and launched your mouth at his, tongue enveloping his with need. His hands in your opening, toying with it a little before pushing one finger. You were so wet, soaking his hand.
“More, faster, please,” you plead and he obliged, increasing speed on his cock, mouth opened and eyes shut focusing only on you from his mind. Another finger dipped on you, scissoring your entrance.
You were making the sweetest sounds, kissing him roughly through your high. He could feel you getting close, your nails digging into his skin.
“I need you, Joel. Just you, no one else.” You murmured directly on his lips, almost there already. He was at the edge, quick breathing, just seconds always…
“Joel, I’m home!” Ellie’s voice echoed across the house, making Joel leave his dream.
"Goddammit," he professed angrily at himself. The head of his cock leaking, red still, but the edge was no longer there. It was humiliating, he was salivating for you like a creep while you were out there not even remembering his existence. As he cleaned himself and got back to the real world, Joel swore to no longer chase you, to stay out of your life.
Coming back to the library on Monday to deliver the books and get new ones, you were reading when he entered. Seeing him, you smiled broadly to his confusion. You asked him to wait a second and left for the back house.
"It might be stupid, but close your eyes." You asked and he did at the cue, there wasn't much he wouldn't do for you. Your fingers put both of his hands together and then deposited something small at his palms. "You may open now."
A small blue butterfly pressed on a moonstone, a pendant on an old necklace. He had told you at some point that butterflies reminded him of someone important, it was a small comment in a conversation about killing bugs or not. Butterflies were Sarah’s favorite.
“Went on a hike yesterday, found it near the river. Thought maybe you would like to have it.” You had thought about him just like he spent his Sunday thinking of you. Closing his hand around the pendant, he spoke before thinking.
“I forgot that you were off Sundays, day went slow without you.” You chuckled and he smiled, unable to ignore how much he missed that sweet sound.
---
“Oh lovely, Ellie! You have a good eye for it!” Chad exclaimed and patted Ellie’s shoulder. For something she didn’t want to do, she was pretty good.
Two days a week she would have to help the local gardeners, it was both her punishment from her teacher for lying (“I can’t stay the full day because Maria asked me to take slow, man. I just follow her orders” Ellie had said right after meeting the woman) and for crossing Maria's space. The second one proved to be way worse.
Joel explained to her that they needed to meet Maria at her house to say their apologies, mostly to avoid her wrath. Ellie knew she had gone too far, one thing was to say sorry to Joel, her… Whatever he was for her, he was important. When they spoke, late that night, she could see in his eyes the weight of her words. She felt guilty comparing herself to Sarah, knowing how much he was still hurt by the lack of her presence 20 years later.
This is what Ellie understood, Joel wasn't mourning her death, but the lack of his daughter in his life. When he made their lives "normal" after so many months on the road he wasn't doing it for Ellie, but for what he had with Sarah. It was bad to say she was jealous of a dead girl, but she was: she wanted the Joel that protected her no matter what, the grumpy man, not the suburban dad. And yet, she asked his forgiveness when she got back home without a trace of pride from her side.
This is why it was completely different to say sorry to Maria. She didn't want to say sorry to a woman who was the nemesis of her best friend. Not that she understood Nath and Maris's fight, but it felt like betraying to not pick Nath’s side.
“We want you safe, no more than that. I spoke with Chad, he is in need of someone to help for a while. You'll be there for this season right after school. We live in a commune, everyone helps." Maria explained and Ellie used every single one of her facial muscles to not roll her eyes back at the woman.
Maria failed to explain that Chad was awesome. 6'5" may appear menacing, but not when you have a calm voice and delicate manners. He was a fucking ray of light. Putting Ellie to check for plagues on leaves, Chad hit the lottery by how fast she could find it.
It was her second day in the garden, but she was already a pro. Chad taught her the whole ritual: find the leave, analyze it, and based on the color you cut it out or spray something on it. His big rosy cheeks were showing their dimples as he grinned at Ellie's work.
"I think you have a visit." He announced looking to the garden entrance. Cat was walking in their direction, her hazel eyes glistening as she sneezed. “Pollen?”
"Yeah, I have a small allergy to it. It's okay if I take your pupil with me? We're being requested at the mess hall." Sneezing once more, Cat fixed her bangs and moved her eyes to Ellie, whose cheeks got heated.
“Only if Nath gives me popcorn before everyone else. I’m joking, go go!” Chad replied lightly and then started to hum a song to his vegetables.
Cat spent the walk to the mess hall laughing at how you and Joel got the library upside down and just now were able to put everything back together, except for some books that were still waiting on their new shelf. Her storytelling had details, but Ellie was too busy watching speckles of green in Cat's eyes.
She had a hard time ignoring Cat's physical traits now that she was her first model to draw. The shape of her eyes, how her bangs framed her face, her button nose… Everything was burned inside her head. Ellie started to notice little details here and there, remembering how once she was also this close with Riley. And shit, that didn't end well.
The mess hall was different. No more cantina tablecloth, just rows of wooden chairs facing the same direction. The windows were closed with a dark fabric so no natural light could get in. Nath was at the center of the room shouting at Seth, who was adjusting a homemade screen from white sheets.
“Go up and right! Not that much, wait… Damn it, now up and left! That’s it, c’est fini!” Nath made a chef kiss motion with her hand, admiring how everything was getting together. Cat greeted her, making Nath turn around to see them. “Look who got here, Trouble and Consequence. Ready to work?”
“Who’s Trouble and who’s Consequence?” Ellie asked confused.
"At this point is self-explanatory, kid." Nath raised her eyebrows. Moving to a table nearby, Nath showed them the DVDs for the night. Cat widened her eyes looking at the titles. "I couldn't wait 'til Halloween, but at least is a full moon night. Cat knows how to use the DVD machine, you'll put the movies in order on the projector. All good?”
“We got you. How much time do we have?” Cat asked taking the reins of the situation. Ellie was reading the DVD back covers trying to snoop something from the movies.
"Around an hour before everyone shows up. We start at 6 p.m. sharp with Rosemary’s Baby, at 8:30 p.m. we move to The Omen and make the final switch at 10:30 p.m. to The Shining. I saved the best for last, so make sure you’re still awake. I’ll be back soon, gotta get all the popcorn peeps going on, but I trust you and Trouble with it, Cat.”
“Wait, am I Trouble?” Ellie shouted as Nath left with Seth. The mess hall felt so big with just the two girls there. Shaking this feeling away, Cat got Ellie’s hand and moved to the projector.
It was an easy task, to measure the projected image with the screen so everyone could see it from all the rows. Cat made the adjustments as Ellie sat from row to row checking the quality of the image. Once they were done, it was time to put a light behind the screen.
"Why we are doing this? I thought the projector's light would be enough." Ellie asked as Cat got the light bulb turned on a little far from the back of the screen, right in the middle. They were sat between the light and the screen, the yellow light being the only source of illumination in the whole space.
Cat's eyes shined a little more in an ocher color, the green less saturated. Ellie held her breath when the girl sat in front of her, on the ground, their knees touching.
“It’s for the mood. Nath takes these nights seriously, plus this light helps everyone find their seats before the movie starts. I like it, don’t you?” Half of her face was illuminated while the other half was in the shadows.
"I like it a lot," Ellie whispered, not sure if she was talking about the light or Cat. The natural pink shade of Cat's lips became reddish, Ellie stared at it for a second wondering if they were really as soft as they seemed. When she found Cat's eyes, they were swimming in something she couldn't place it.
The room was silent, but so alive with them holding each other stares. The heat of their knees touching became a flame dissipating over Ellie's whole body. Seconds felt like minutes until Cat moved her hand from her lap to put a stray of Ellie's hair out of her face. Her fingertips gently tapped over the cheekbone, just to cradle the girl's cheek in her palm and bring closer to her face. A final look on her eyes before looking at her lips, Cat closed the gap between them and placed her lips on top of Ellie's.
It was no more than a peck at first, but Ellie could feel it everywhere. Not realizing she closed her eyes, she opened when Cat got back a little to watch her reaction. Making sure she understood, Ellie kissed Cat back with the same delicate pressure.
On the other side of the screen, when Nath came back, she could only see two silhouettes kissing slowly. Smiling to herself, she left the mess hall without a word, giving a little more time to a young love blossom at the end of spring.
---
It was a chilly night, the breeze hitting on your face as you walked to the mess hall. You knew it would make a fool of yourself watching those movies, so you took your time to get there a little later and stay put behind everyone. Your jacket had pockets, to fidget your hands away from curious eyes. All planned to not become laughing material, as you feared.
Getting there, the hall was darker than expected with the only light source being the illuminated screen. You look around the back rows searching for a place away, but a hand waved in your direction. Alfie was seated somewhere at the front, in the third row, with an empty spot next to him. His smile was big, pearly whites shining at you even in the low light. Amazing, three horror movies and his company were exactly what you were avoiding, but luckily Edwin mistook the wave and sat there before you. Alfie's smile faded and you shrugged at him in a tentative of saying "better luck next time".
You kept walking searching for a place, until Nath put her hand on your elbow guiding you somewhere.
“Your cowboy came here early and got a spot for you at the back. He’ll say it was for Ellie, but we both know it is for you.” She pointed somewhere and you forced your eyes to get the image right. Joel had his arms crossed, chewing his mouth corners impatiently.
You took a breath and made your way to him, watching as someone tried to sit and he politely explained that the seat was taken. He saw you and pointed to the chair next to him, making sure you would be there.
"I saved it for Ellie, but she is working, then I saw that most of the city is here and decided to save it for you." He cleared his throat right after speaking, almost as if he wanted to play cool for you.
"Thank you, I was about to sit at the back anyway." He nodded, arms still crossed. There wasn't much space between the chairs, making the sides of your bodies touch.
After everyone sat down, the lights went out and Nath appeared at the front holding a lantern under her chin, her eyes wide in a tentative of a scary face. Some people laughed and she grinned.
“Good night, Jackson. Welcome to another movie night! This night is all about horror. I hope you bring some holy water, you may need it.” The screen got once again illuminated, you held back a laugh now that you were able to see her t-shirt. “333 I’m only half evil” was across her black t-shirt because of course she had something for all occasions.
“Three classics for tonight: Rosemary’s Baby, The Omen and The Shining, in this exact order. We'll have ten minutes of break between the movies, so make sure you use it right. Popcorn is on the balcony over there, if you need more ask Seth and his lazy ass will provide for you. That's all, let the haunting begin!"
Nath finished her speech and the lights went out again, making space for the real event of the night. The first movie wouldn’t be too difficult, you were familiar with the book and knew that jumpscares weren’t big on it.
As Mia Farrow appeared on the screen, you felt Joel relax by your side. You were more inclined to watch him than the movies, feeling his eyes on you. Taking it from your mind, you tried to be over-alert and preview what was about to happen.
It was smooth so far, closing your eyes or turning your face down if you didn’t want to see what was on screen. All good until the phone booth scene, when the man outside the glass door is replaced quickly by another. You held your breath and squirmed in your seat taking Joel's attention.
"Not a horror movie fan?" He whispered to you, that nodded a little in response.
Forcing yourself to watch until the end, you exhaled hard once the movie was done. Passing both hands on your face, you pushed your back at the chair rest and saw Joel coming back, with two popcorn bags in his hands.
“It might be a good distraction, considering the next movie.” The gesture was small, but made your heart race. He got you popcorn because he was indeed watching you. You accepted the bag frowning a little in discomfort.
Ellie came by for a second, chatting with him about how awesome the movie was and letting him know she wanted the book by Monday. You eavesdrop, listening closely to his tone around her, full of love for the girl. When she left to put on the next movie, you took a good look at his face and saw how peaceful he was, far from the man hurt that afternoon at the library.
The Omen started, you moved your head and shoulders trying to brace yourself for what was to come. The gleeful tone of the kids running at the party was already telling something was wrong. As the nanny walked further from Damian with a plate in her hand, the camera made a close-up of her face. You sunk into your chair, the sinister music as the screen went from the nanny's eyes to the dog, getting closer and closer. Your fingers increasing their grip on the popcorn bag, your throat swallowing dry. The music increased speed just to cut it for the kids’ happy scream again, but it was too late, the sudden change already made you scream.
Popcorn flew across your lap at the jump scare. It was childish, you knew, but couldn’t help. A big hand was placed on your shoulder, pulling you a little closer. Your eyes, shut in fear from the previous scene, started to open slowly just to find that you had sought shelter in Joel’s arms.
Looking up, you could see he had a smirk on his face as if he thought your despair was funny. You couldn’t help but smile back, even if your cheeks were red.
“Shut up,” he chuckled at your tentative of being tough. Of course, he didn’t believe in you after seeing how scared you were.
“I’m not saying anything.” He whispered in your ear, softly and gained a playful glare from you.
When you sat back on your chair, he kept his hand on your shoulder, making small patterns with his fingertips to soothe your fear way. You relaxed into his embrace, resting your head on his arm behind your neck. A few rows away, you noticed someone prying on you. When green eyes glued back to the screen, the fear in your body gave in to disappointment.
Was Alfie mad at you? Could he see you and Joel from his seat? You wished you could care for it, but your mind was busy enjoying the proximity of Joel. Making a conscious decision, you accepted the idea of being considered selfish if it meant that Joel would keep his arm around you.
The rest of the night passed in the blink of an eye. You decided to leave before The Shining starts, already tired from moving books all day and somewhat emotionally drenched from the movie session. To your surprise, when you started to walk towards the door, Joel tugged your hand from behind.
“Let me make you company.” He stated as you both went out to the street, still holding hands.
His fingers intertwined with yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. He held your hand all the way, until your house, with the full moon high in the sky as the light shined on you both.
---
Alfie stared at his reflection in the mirror comparing himself with Joel. Both were tall and stronger, himself thinner. His beard wasn't patchy, it was fuller than most. Joel had wavy light brown hair with some grey strikes, while his was pitch black and thick. The eyes were also different, his green were light while Joel's were dark. Perhaps this is what you liked, Alfie’s eyes were constantly transparent on his intention, but Joel’s forced you to stare to find out what he wanted.
When he saw Joel holding your hand as you left the mess hall, he understood everything: Joel wanted you and you wanted Joel.
He felt stupid for taking so high of a man, to have invited him to his house just so he could blow out like this at his face. Joel knew his whole story.
At the barbeque, weeks ago, he was quiet and Alfie insisted on having a chat.
“You lived in a QZ too, huh? How do you take Jackson in comparison?” He tried to push the man who so far had answered everything with no more than three words. They were by the grill, Cata shouted that she would take Ellie upstairs.
"I like having hot water and a roof that's far from FEDRA." Joel limited answering, but Alfie wasn't done.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Me and Catarina came from Denver QZ five years ago. We never actually lived in one because FEDRA wouldn't allow us." Joel furrowed his brows as if trying to understand how it was possible. "You must have noticed my accent. Alfie is an American nickname, my name is Alfonso. I'm from Mexico, same as my wife. When the outbreak happened we were illegal, didn't have documents, and without documents couldn't join a QZ.
"We tried to create a plan to go back to Jalisco, but it was suicide. I never knew what happened to my parents, if there was anything there waiting for us. Anyway, if we stepped inside a QZ FEDRA would execute us and we couldn't risk it. We stayed low for as much as we could, on the road, until my wife got pregnant and it became too dangerous.
“A while after Catarina was born, we decided to try our luck. It was in vain for us, except my wife. She got fake documents for herself doing I don't know what, but I'm sure it wasn't something good or she would have told me. FEDRA said she got a QZ spot when we were together there, by the gate, she left almost running from us. It didn’t matter that our daughter was crying for her, Cata was less than six months. I waited every day by the QZ gate for more than a year, hoping that one day she would come searching for us.
"I took my daughter and spent five years on the road until we found Jackson. I'm grateful for this place." Alfie finished with a smile, taking another look at the rabbit meat on the grill.
"I'm glad Jackson accepted you both. You deserve peace and a place to raise your kid." Joel answered as he chewed his mouth corners.
"I know a little about your life before the outbreak, Tommy told me once. From everyone in this town, you're the one who understands me. I see your struggle and have compassion for you." Alfie added still smiling, putting the meat on a plate before shouting for his daughter to eat.
Looking at his mirror reflection, Alfie pondered if he saw more than it was on Joel's background. He thought they were similar, almost the same career choice even, but now it was blurry when he saw someone similar and you still preferred the other man.
Passing by his image in the mirror, Alfie started to get ready for the council meeting when someone knocked at the front door. Going down the stairs, he tried to shut down the wish of being you. As he opened the door, he saw Maria.
"I saw everything at the movie night. Want the doll for you? I can help." She said walking inside the house, not giving him time to think.
Alfie remembered how you were so relaxed in Joel's embrace, how his dark brown eyes were at peace with you there, and decided he would listen closely to Maria's proposal.
#tlou fanfiction#tlou fanfic#the last of us fanfic#joel miller#the last of us hbo#the last of us#tlou hbo#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller x original character#joel miller x you#joel miller x fem!reader#comfort fic#wings of the dawn#wotd 4#angst/comfort#slow burn#the orange tabby cat
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Living Nightmare, pt.2: Captured
[thanks to the interest of people in this story, I've dusted it off! I might redo the first chapter soon with some retcons, but for now enjoy the creature having a Bad Time ^^ its pretty short but sweet]
CWs: nonhuman whumpee, panic, death/dying mention, dehumanisation, it as pronouns
MASTERLIST
Tagging: @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question
When the creature woke, he first became aware of the deep ache in his side. The wound was closed off, but his insides were still knitting themselves together. He blinked, trying to get his bearings.
He couldn’t smell his Mother. He wanted to press his wrist against his nose and have her scent closer, but he was bound. Trapped. Prey.
His arms were wrenched behind his back, attached to the concrete wall with a heavy chain.
He tried to scramble upright, and found his legs were shackled together, too. He could kneel upright, but couldn’t find the footing to stand.
Panic rose in his chest and he bared his fangs, useless against a hard wire muzzle that let him open his mouth but not bite. He closed his eyes, braced for the pain, and shifted into a small child he had seen once. Their tiny wrists should slip out the cuffs.
But the metal circles just hissed and slid closer. He hadn’t fixed his voice yet, so the scream of frustration coming out his tiny mouth was animal and rough. He snapped back, more because he broke his concentration rather than because he wanted to, and thankfully the cuffs expanded back with him.
He was captured. He wasn’t a human, he wasn’t supposed to be on this side of the game! But he was, and if humans played games like Mother did, he was going to die. Soon, if he was lucky.
He started pulling against the steel entrapments, uncaring of how it cut into his fresh and bruised him. He bashed the muzzle against the chain, as though he could bite through it even without the device on his snout. The pain was nothing, he had to leave!
Something snapped in his ankel as he trashed about, but he barely felt it over the panic now fully gripping his heart. He threw himself all over the cramped space, snarling and screaming. Just wordless at first, but once he realised not even his desperate struggling would release him, he started calling out for his Mother.
Her name was one of the few words she didn't mind hearing from him.
He knew it was useless, though. Even if she wanted to save him after how useless he had been, after the betrayal of leaving without asking, she couldn’t reach him anyway. He was her only way into the human realm, he knew that. And yet, he cried for her, calling until his throat was hoarse.
He missed his Mother. He wanted to hear her voice. In an effort to calm himself, in what must be his last moments before being eaten, he sang softly to himself.
His muscles ached, the sidewound had opened again and created black tracks all over the cell where he had squirmed.
Eventually, he just lay panting and sobbing on the ground, all of his limbs burning with exhaustion and straining against the cuffs. His ankle had started knitting together again, but still throbbed.
-----------------
Leonard looked at the CCTV footage, and winced. The creature was frantic and feral. There was no sign of the scraps of sentience it had shown earlier, as it called for its creator in-between snarls and shrieks.
Next to him, his supervisor, ms. Alice Derringer, pursed her lips.
“...Adams, care to explain why we have a crazy OR creature inside our facility right now? I don't recall giving the notice for another test subject.”
“Right. When Ray comes off the plane, we'll have the lab guys check out the sample we took. They're having a field day with it, as-is. And it does seem to be able to call for its creator. But even a dog can bark. I don’t see how-”
“No, but I’m telling you, it spoke!” explained Leonard, feeling foolish. “It-it said that Morgan was its mother, and I think it might be Ray’s. I think that's what it said, anyway.”
She didn't look very convinced.
Then, through the tinny speakers, came Rebecca Morgan’s voice. Alice and Leonard, being the only in attendance who'd known the woman, felt as though the floor fell away for a moment. Had she returned somehow-?
But no. Looking at the screen, they could see it was the creature’s mouth that was moving. From it’s throat came an exact imitation of the entity that now called itself Mother, the former Facility member gone rogue. The creature was singing a lullaby in her voice, while rocking back and forward slightly.
“That... That’s impressive mimicry,” admitted Derringer, catching her breath. “Is that what you heard, Adams?”
“No, I’m telling you, it can actually speak! And even if it’s not Ray’s, then it can lie. There’s sentience there, I swear.”
Ms. Derringer pinched the bridge of her nose. Although the blonde woman was only a few years older than him, Leonard felt like a child around her. She seemed to calculate something as she peered at him, before nodding.
“Very well. You’re fortunate you’ve been such a good agent, Adams. I will entertain this thought. Though, for Ray’s mentality’s sake, I sincerely hope your theory is incorrect.”
#whump#waking nightmare#nonhuman whumpee#alice derringer#leonard adams#my stuff#my writing#the creature#monster whump#captivity#panic#death/dying mention#dehumanisation#it as pronouns#feral whumpee
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sunday six!
eastern hemisphere experiencer so i'll make it a true sunday six this week. tagging @fire-tempers-steel @c-cw-f-saeko @passthroughtime @overdevelopedglasses and uhh whoever else. no pressure but you're the only mutuals i can think of right now who are/might be working on something they want to share T_T
i didnt have much time to write this week cause i've been freaking busy but take this! *throwing motion*
more post lj au stuff with kuwana and mitsuru. mitsuru uses a wheelchair. this is the only real thing i'm consistently working on so you can check out other wips in my sunday six tag. sorry long intro. read below if you want
Kuwana stands next to a wilted pine tree and faces the ocean with Mitsuru by his other side. He feels a rock in his shoe. Wind crusts salt into Mitsuru's choppy-thick hair. Kuwana scratches a mole under his soft uneven buzz.
He sets off, leaving Mitsuru behind, dusting the sand with the bottom of his sneakers, failing not to get his shoes wet. It's soft and dry; moony, extraterrestrial. The ocean erases his footprint like it wanted to, and he turns around again.
"What do you think?" he calls out. "Can you go?"
Mitsuru gestures towards his wheels. Then the sand, then the water.
He catches up to the safe sidewalk. "It might stick a little, but."
"I can't."
"I should attach a motor to this thing," Kuwana thinks aloud, pushing the back of it with his foot a little. "Then we could go off-roading."
Mitsuru looks at him.
"Sorry."
The waves measure time. A few laps foam and dissipate within a second. The sound of the ocean is relentless, but it seems to put Mitsuru at ease. A cold air drives through them both when Kuwana realizes they've been sitting in silence for a few minutes. He can't count the waves or the grains of sand under his feet, nor the number of times his socks have gotten wet, but he knows the clouds have changed--they hang lower than they did before, or perhaps he's gotten taller. The sand spumes below them and a red crab shovels its way to the surface. Kuwana puts his hand against Mitsuru's cheek, his fingers moving to steer his head, his thumb to feel his low, alive pulse. Mitsuru takes Kuwana's hands into his own to push them away but holds them for warmth instead. His eyes are on the water. He used to swim.
"Sorry," Kuwana repeats, releasing his neck. "Do you see that crab?"
#off roading#not funny dude#fic#sunday six#lost judgement#rgg#not that it will happen because my mutuals are normal but if you tag this as ship anything i will come into your house with a gun#not ship not familial but a secret third thing#though their relationship is reflective of the one i have with my little brothers..
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Hello!! Is it possible to ask for a (fem) reader x Bucky, (Chaotic besties that make out sometimes) where reader has the ability to heat up any part of her body to 100+ C degrees, (Can't catch on fire w/ out a bit've help, and if she uses it to much she gets a horrid fever, or 3rd degree burns) and she uses it during battle, for the first time in front of everyone, and scares most of the avengers because "How did she melt the creatures skin and grab it's heart?? WTF??"
very interesting concept i've got to say 😂
marvel masterlist
Title: You Can Set My Heart on Fire
Pairing: female reader x Bucky Barnes
Warnings: injuries, some gore, and chaotic besties
A/N: Requests open, check my request rules and who I write for that’s linked on my navigation! My taglist is open and I would love it if you would like, comment, and reblog!
the Avengers know you have powers but don't know the full extent. other than Tony who recruited you after reading a file on you from SHIELD
you got in some trouble after having a meltdown (literally) and had to go into rehabilitation for a while before you got recruited.
you were a teen whenever the meltdown happened, and you didn't get much contact with other people so you're living your life to the fullest now. even though you're 26 when you join the Avengers you're still pretty lively and fiery (also literally)
when you joined the Avengers you were introduced to everyone, including Bucky, who was VERY quiet at first
you saw his shyness as a challenge and for two years (yes two years, he was a tough nut to crack) you made it your job to get him to open up
it worked, and in the process you guys became best friends
Steve thinks you influenced him a little too much because you're both kind of reckless and do dumb things sometimes
don't let alcohol anywhere near you two
the first time you two made out it was because you were drunk
that wasn't the reason the second, third, fourth... you get it.
what you two had going on was very convenient. you came and went as you pleased and didn't have many strings attached. you were still besties, but whenever you wanted someone to spend the night with you could go to each other
you found Bucky extremely attractive, and he also found you very attractive. you were also the only person that was dead set on getting him to become your friend instead of judging him for his past actions.
missions with the whole squad were very fun. you and Buck tag teamed and dicked around (but still got work done of course)
the first time you used the full extent of your powers was three years into you becoming an Avenger
normally you wouldn't need to use the full extent. you didn't want to use the full extent because you knew it wouldn't be pretty
but that particular mission was difficult. you were exhausted and had been fighting for what felt like forever.
you were already burning up and your skin was starting to blister.
unfortunately for the monster running towards you, you were aggravated. in less than a second you heated your arms up as much as you possibly could and grabbed the monster, burning through its flesh and gripping its heart. you ripped the monster in half and threw the burning heart at the next approaching creature.
you weren't aware that a couple of the Avengers were looking your way, but when you heard a "Ho-ly shit" from Bucky you turned around and saw everyone staring at you in awe
"What?" you asked, out of breath
"Didn't know you could do that," Clint said. "That's cool- wait are you supposed to be on fire?"
you looked down at your arms and lo and behold, they were aflame
you waved your arms around and swatted at your skin, which seared from the developing third degree burns
Bucky ran to help you, and together you put the fire out.
"This doesn't look too good doll," he said.
"I'm alright," you smiled
"Y/N," Bucky said, looking at you with a no bullshit face
"Okay maybe it hurts a little," you confessed. you were trying to brush it off so Bucky wouldn't worry. but it did hurt pretty bad.
"Uhuh. We'll take care of this when we get home."
the rest of the Avengers finished off the rest of the creatures while you took it easy (curtesy of Buck)
when you got home Bucky took you straight to his room.
"Wait here, I'll be right back sweetheart."
"Fiiiine," you grumbled.
a few minutes later he returned with bandages, an IV (who let him have that? you thought), and multiple ointments
he sat beside you on his bed and applied the creams to your forearms.
you winced
"Sorry," he whispered.
"It's okay. Thank you for helping me Buck," you said.
"Anytime doll. I don't like seeing you hurt." he looked up at you, taking his attention away from your arm
he looked at you so tenderly you couldn't help but kiss him. he immediately reciprocated, cupping your cheeks
without thinking you put your hand on the bed but regretted it almost instantly. you cursed
"You better take it easy on that arm," he teased.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes imagine#bucky#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes#winter soldier x fem!reader#winter soldier x you#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier oneshot#winter soldier fanfiction#professorrw#fanfiction#marvel#myfanfiction#marvel fanfiction#marveloneshot#avengers#avengers fanfiction#avengers fluff#avengers headcanon#marvel headcanons#bucky barnes headcanon#avengers fic#marvel cinematic universe#marvel fanfic#marvel fluff#marvel headcanon
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SAMS added character in the Game.
Please keep in mind that i am PoppySeedOnCaffeine and will soon be using my old account so most of this stuff on here will be transferred to my usual account.
Lunar: He's helpful! kinda... if he finds you, he starts dragging you back to the daycare or Gator golf, wanting to play games, unfortunately he his rather loud and accidentally alerts the others of your whereabouts. He often can't help with Chica or Roxy as they don't care for him much, but if Monty's on your trail he hides you as fast as possible then directs the Gator in the opposite direction. With Eclipse, he makes himself known and immediately takes the taller bot off your hands. He can't help much with Moon, while he does try to slow Moon down, he can't do much. He attaches himself to Moons Leg in hopes of slowing his brother down, this does little though (considering Moon probably has experience with children attaching themselves to his legs) He isn't too active in the Daycare with Sun, content on fiddling with Spigot than helping watch you, though he is convinced you're trying to play a game of tag.
Earth: While she's not sure why you want to leave the daycare (Its effectively the safest place you could stay till morning comes), she doesn't stop you from getting the card, though before you get the card, she adds her call sequence into your Faz watch in case you need help. She can help you with one animatronic for ten Minutes per hour. However, this doesn't work with boss fights, she leaves during the generator level. leaving you behind with Lunar and Moon as she tends to something in her room, oblivious to what is going on in the daycare. She is most effective on Monty for obvious reasons, though Chica and Roxy need a little more tending to keep them distracted. Unfortunately, she gets into long conversations with Freddy which sets you back a bit. She also provides snacks and offers to try and get Sun to lift the Ban so you can be safe in the daycare.
Creator: He doesn't attack you, he just watches, showing up in the corner of your eye and waving ominously before heading somewhere else.
KC: Appears quickly after Creator does, He's much more violent the closer Creator is to you, often times he seems kind, if not a bit creepy, Freddy easily calms him down and KC follows you around for a bit looking around nervously before disappearing.
BloodMoon and HarvestMoon: the First time that BloodMoon shows up is in the vents, there is a cut seen as the twins rip the little Music man apart, spraying oil onto the camera, they slowly look up at you, yelling at one another about how exited they are for a fresh kill, they then begin chasing you, creating loud thumps in the vents that echo throughout the Plex. Unlike the Mini MM they follow you out the vents. If another animatronic catches you while they are chasing, you have a 10 second head start as the twins knock you out of the animatronics arms and fight with them over you. with the hiding spaces the twins can check them, but never check twice so pay attention to the hiding space they first look at and get there as quickly as possible. Freddy cannot protect you from the twins, hiding in his chest means endgame.
Eclipse: Much more interested in finding Monty and Lunar, often calls out in a lazy tone, "Come out come out wherever you are" Its not directed at you but if he sees you, it's fair game. If the lights are out while he is chasing you, he opts to go for Moon or KC, again giving you a ten second head start. He is seen standing at the overhang after you just get kicked out from the daycare, staring at you with a smirk.
Solar Flare: Don't Hurt KC and you'll be fine. Or do... I don't care.
#sun and moon show#sun and moon show lunar#sun and moon show Earth#Sun and Moon Show Creator#sun and moon show kill code#sun and moon show bloodmoon#Sun and Moon Show Harvest#sun and moon show eclipse#sun and moon show solar flare#montgomery gator#roxane wolf#chica chicken#glamrock freddy
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Find the Word Game
I was tagged by the amazing wordsmith, @kyofsonder!
Going to put things behind the cut because, again, spicy.
Reach (from Starcrossed, my current WIP)
The same soundless image plays again and again in a perfect loop. Delicate cloven hooves in a dancer’s rest pose, the camera panning up a fit, lithe body. Fine black curls give way to smooth red-brown skin, abruptly cut by a black strap that holds a flimsy split-skirt in place that glows like flames. A tufted tail whips across the image to reveal a succubus dancer, interlaced with close-ups of her hips, her large breasts barely covered by the same flickering material, strapped across with black leather that looks like cast iron bars. Although her face is in shadow, it too is masked, with glowing golden eyes and a wicked grin he’s certain he’s never seen on her before. She reaches toward the camera and grabs a leash, pulling the camera closer with a beckoning finger before baring stark white fangs and lashing out with something that tears the image in two, leaving only burning text in its place.
Lusti. Feed your wild side.
Patience (from The Delta, a sci-fi novella)
Fons everywhere start lighting up like fireflies against the plaza's dark grass. Baza stands a little further away and attaches his bud, the little temple attachment that makes all fon screens private by sending the visual signal directly to the retina. He checks the Wet feed, hoping for more news, but no one seems to be talking about anything of importance. The patient feed is far more interesting, anyway.
A young woman, probably a new member of the Rocks, is sitting in a Mask bed. She is very pale and her brown hair is plastered to her forehead with sweat. Her blue eyes look slightly glazed and rove around the room without latching on to anything. Bruises lace around her throat and an IV is attached to her arm.
"What did you see, Mica?" Asks an off-screen female voice, presumably a Key or a Mask.
The young woman seems to flail for a moment, lolling her head back and forth. The voice tries again.
"Mica, what did you see?"
"Vines," she chokes out.
"What's wrong with vines? We have vines in Ciencias, right?"
"Not these vines." There is a long pause as Mica works to collect herself, gesturing loosely towards her throat. "They- They reached for me."
Shaky (from Far From Home, a sci-fi fantasy story)
Esme gasped for breath as the portal snapped shut behind her; Thomas' hand released her leg. He stood, his thin frame folded in blue robes, shading her from the skylight that spread colored light throughout the circular atrium. Warm, inviting sunlight beamed through the opposite archway, the afternoon's sun gilding the deep walls of the white marble room. She still shivered, the chill of the swamp would not leave her bones.
"Esme, are you hurt?" Thomas asked hurriedly, eyes running over her thin frame and then darting back towards the sunlit arch.
"No, I'm fine," she said, accepting his hand to balance her way back to her feet. Her voice was shaky, she knew. Her boundaries were battered, and she felt worn out. Then she heard the muted sounds from outside. She withdrew her hand from Thomas', clasping it close to her chest as she strode towards the sunlight. With every slow step, the sounds grew louder, pounding in her chest as she swallowed any tears.
Hollow (from the 1st draft of Starcrossed, might get used in the 2nd)
“I spent four years doing that, becoming more and more famous, and feeling more and more like a hollowed out person only made of muscle and bone. I trained every day for hours on end. I ate in weird cycles depending on who I was fighting next, gaining and then dropping weight over and over. When I was too tired to train, that was when I studied my next opponent’s moves, gleaning whatever I could from anecdotes and old broadcasts. I lived only to fight.” She can see him raise one hand in the air, turning and flexing his hand, silhouetted against the moonlight streaming in through the window.
Ripple (also from Far From Home, directly after the previous passage)
Hands were at her shoulders, warm where she was cold. "Esme. Sage. They need you." He murmured in her ear. "We must go." His hands slid down her bare arms and then up again. "We must go." He said again after a moment.
"I know," she said after another shiver. "But this is not what a mage should wear to war." Esme looked down at the tattered party dress from the citadel of the techs. Where it had once shone and shimmered with tiny lights and glowing lines, now dead from motion and abuse. It was fancy, not meant for battle.
Her index fingers met at her throat and traced a line downward. As they slid along her chilled skin, red fabric seemed to ripple into place as though it had always been there. Threatening silver runes crackled forth, glowing for a moment and then falling back to stitching. The robe settled suddenly as she drew her fingers away, her hair fluttered slightly.
Esme turned to Thomas, looking far more at home than when she arrived, and she no longer shivered. "Let's go, brother. Our war is calling."
This was remarkably difficult! I haven’t even looked at Far From Home in ages, and I was surprised that Starcrossed didn’t have shaky (although it did have shaken, but I was feeling picky).
For reference, I wrote Far From Home back in 2009, The Delta in 2013ish(?), and Starcrossed is from this year.
Tagging: @promiseiwillwrite, @the-likeable-wizard-mack, @worldstogetlostin, @aalinaaaaaa, @winterandwords, and as usual, this is an open tag for whoever wants to play along!
Your words are (I used a random word generator for these): artist, neck, catch, upset, position.
#tag game#snippets#bonds of trust#my writing#the delta is absolutely bonkers to me at this point#i literally planned on naming 144 characters in this novel#wtf past me#far from home has the potential to actually be something more#idk if i actually will tho#it was entirely from a visual prompt back on livejournal#yes livejournal#i am -in fact- quite old
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