#{ less your muse is dead lmao }

[erobret]

me thinking about my ships for emily ; victor ofc but also jack skellington . with bg3 i can totes see her and withers LMAO

[plutoswritingplanet]

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt.4 (final)

a/n: we did it Joe! this chapter officially marks the first ever series i've completed lmao. thank you for all the support on this fic, every like, every comment, every out-of-pocket anon ask.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (like...fr this time), Blood and Violence, Manipulation.

Summary: After the wedding, Husband and Wife work out the intricate web of their relationship.

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3

Gurney looks at you as if you're already dead.

You hide from his gaze, ducking behind pillars, whenever you can hear his footsteps. It's truly depressing, the way your mentor shakes his head, as if, instead of looking at you, he's looking at a coffin. You suppose he might be right, he's the one with the most experience in the Harkonnen area. He's fought them, dined with them, seen their customs through and through. And now, his dutiful little student is about to be thrown into the very same world, he has relayed to you as a nightmarish fairytale. Still, a little misplaced optimism wouldn't kill him. Or just, a sliver of hope, an inclination that you might survive this. 

The day of your wedding rolls upon you like an oceanic storm, all chaos and rumbling. 

Here you sit, your bones locked with nerves, as the servants pack away your things. A futile thing, you muse to yourself. It's highly doubtful the Harkonnens will let you keep any personal items back from Caladan. They'll mold you into their image, until all your hair naturally falls out. The thought would make you laugh, but here's a servant, placing your jewelry into a case, which lands in a bag, which will be transported to the Harkonnen ship by the end of the day.

Your room, the place you've spent all your life in, slowly becomes more and more barren. 

The closet stands empty, so do the drawers. All your trinkets are swiftly transported away until you're left alone in your wedding dress, the only familiar thing between the hollow ribs of your life's sanctuary. Wishing you could fold the entirety of the castle, with the stables, and the horses, and the cliffs, and throw it into the final suitcase, so you can open it up in times of turmoil, and breathe in the familiar scents. You need to leave, right now. Sitting like this, wrenches a dangerous numbness out of your chest. And you can't be allowed to dissapear into yourself. You're an Atreides, you shall wear your pain with dignity, as per your Mother's wishes.

Your wedding dress swishes around you, as you stand up from your bed. It's much more classy, and less of a chiffon catastrophe, than your engagement dress, a welcome change. The veil is embroidered with light crystals and metal plating. It falls heavily over your face, and jingles when you move. By all intents and purposes, it is a dream dress. A dress you'd like to wear for a wedding of your own, a wedding with some dashing gentleman. A gentleman, which in your most private of dreams, has the face of Duncan Idaho, with silver rings braided into his hair. 

Instead, you're left with this monster, so alien and cold. A beast at the center of the maze.

The bull looks at you from the wall. Its horns, smeared with your Grandfather's blood, curl grotesquely into the ceiling. The head is mounted above the doors to the library, a grim reminder of his spectacular death. As a child, you'd spend hours, standing right here, at the entrance, staring at the animal's head. You've always wondered, whether it were the lights playing tricks on your mind, or you saw a shadow of pride in the bull's eyes. 

Did it know who was its victim? The leader of one of the most important Houses in all known universe laid dead at its feet. Did it know what sort of spectacle it produced? What destruction of hubris? You suppose it couldn't, it was an animal, after all. A headless creature, hung on a wall. Still, you stare at it, just like you used to, trying to decipher your own fate from its cold, dead eyes.  

After all, there will be a spectacle, a life-long fight stands ahead of you. Giedi Prime shall be your arena, dead and cold, covered in black. And every single Harkonnen will be your bull, their mere presence a deathly danger to your being. It took one bull to end your Grandfather, you dread to think how many it'll take to end you. There will be blood, you're sure of it. And if things were allowed to go your way, it would flow in rivers upon rivers, through the industrial halls of Giedi Prime. You'd have the entire planet drowned in their blood. Your cursed betrothed, the Baron, the fucking Emperor if you had to. 

The bull laughs at your quiet hate, beady eyes bearing down upon you in an imaginary display of indifference. You huff, cheeks reddened, insides twisted and burning.

That's how your Father finds you. Enchanted by a once living instrument of death. 

He hasn't spoken to you, since your betrothed has arrived, not really. Not like you used to talk. A way to shield himself, you supposed, from the Emperor's order, which will soon enough take his only Daughter away from him. This was your superpower. You could fish out signs of love in every action. 

- Your Mother hates that thing - he comments, as he stands next to you, eyes looking up at the bull. 

- I don't blame her, the sight is quite disturbing. - you reply evenly. 

You've missed him, more than you can possibly explain with words. But teary displays of affections were below you, especially since you're trying to distance yourself, rise above your body, float right out of your head. Perhaps it'll hurt less that way.  Duke Leto Atreides turns to you, and for the first time in a month, you recognize your Father behind this statue of authority. He looks troubled, for lack of a better word. There's much more gray on his brow and the lines of his face are darker, harsher. 

- I came to give you something - he announces, producing a small object out of the pocket of his trousers. 

It's harder than you thought, tearing your gaze away from the bull, but you manage, your eyes landing on a figurine in your Father's hands. Your heart stops, as you recognize the blackened stone, polished to perfection. On a flat disc stands a figure of a Matador, proud and posed. Next to him, a bull, ready to strike. It's cold to the touch, when you take it from your Father, ridges of the small sculpture digging into your palm. 

Jumping in front of danger, for better or worse. Your head starts to hurt.

- Father - the sound of your shaking voice carries through the corridor - How will I ever survive this?

By the way Duke Leto Atreides sucks in a sharp breath, you can deduce the answer. And what a sad answer it is. 

Your Father steps closer, gathering your trembling hands in his, the warmth of his embrace engulfing you like the first sun rays of spring. He squeezes your fingers, tightening your own hold on the small figurine, and his eyes are so incredibly sad, you're convinced they could make any heart in the universe weep. 

- With courage - he says - and grandiose. 

Like a true Matador would. 

***

Your bull stands completely still. 

His pale skin creates a beautiful contrast against the ever present darkness of the Harkonnen ship. It's so much different from your native fleet, all sleek and black, and efficient. Terrifying, but at the same time, strangely beautiful. 

The both of you watch, as the hatch is being pulled up, slowly but surely obscuring all sight of your home planet. Of your family, standing by the docking station like a funeral parade. It's only when you can no longer see them, your life sealed with a click of finality, does your betrothed, now husband, move. 

His hand grasps your upper shoulder, and you jump at the sudden contact. Your confused gaze is completely ignored, as the man drags you through the ship, taking large, hasty steps. 

Hairless faces swish past you, all so similar to each other, you're worried you'll never figure out who is who. The corridors of the ship wind and turn like a merciless labyrinth, a realization daunting on you, that you will never be able to find your way in this place. 

Suddenly, you're faced with a black door, which opens as soon as your husband walks up to it. His grip tightens and he basically throws you forward, watching you stumble through the entrance on weak legs. 

It takes you a second to gather yourself, as you instinctually settle into a defensive stance. The room you're in looks quite different from the rest of the ship. It's much more luxurious, one would risk saying cozy. With a gigantic, round bed filled with pillows, a dark desk, and a deliciously comfortable looking armchair. It all dims in your eyes, however, as you look up at your newlywed.

He stands right at the entrance, blocking the only means of escape with his tall frame.

Both of you are still in your wedding clothes. Your dress hugs your body in a way that is anything but comforting. His outfit is as black and sharp, as all his attire. It exposes his lean physique, clings to his warrior's physique. Terrifying, your brain summarizes, muscles freezing suddenly. Feyd Rautha looks at you with emotions you can't decipher in the low light of his room. Your room. Your marital abode. 

You can't breathe, lungs tighten painfull with the sheer thickness of the air between the two of you. Still, there's a certain power, residing in your bones, an inclination of a fight you're ready to put up, should he try anything. And by the way his brow bone settles over his darkened eyes, your husband seems to understand. What a terrifying thought. The sheer idea of finding a common ground with this awful man makes your guts turn. 

He doesn't even flinch, when the doors behind him slide open. You however, nearly jump out of your skin at the sound, cutting through the deafening silence of the bedroom. With furrowed brow you watch, as three Harkonnen women spill into the room. All of them completely hairless, lips pulled back in feral snarls, as they regard you with an emotion you can only interpret as contempt. Their bodies, clad in typical, Harkonnen garments, flow and slither, when they gather behind your husband, like three hungry lionesses, their black eyes flickering to him, to you. 

- Get her ready - Fey Rautha throws a command over his shoulder, eyes glued to you still, and his gaze drags itself across your body like tar.

This is the first time you've heard him speak since the wedding, and involuntarily, you cringe at the gravely sound. While he stayed silent, it was easy to forget who you're dealing with. But as soon as sound leaves his mouth, you're cruelly reminded of the roughness, and the strangeness of your life's partner. 

The three women stir behind him, hands sliding up his body in a gesture, that is almost too close to reverence. He does look like a young god, like some ethereal being, but you're too distressed to dwell on that thought. Instead, your arms encircle your body, a shiver of terror and strangely, disgust flowing over you, at the mere idea of these women touching you. Then, one of those three strange creatures moves forward. She has a stripe of black running down her bottom lip, and her face twists into a cruel smile.

She says something in a language you don't recognize. Probably a native Harkonnen. A rough bark, her disgusted expression translating the meaning better, than any dictionary would. 

 Still, you have no time to process the foreign insult, because as soon as words leave her mouth, your husband turns. His white hand grabs the woman's hairless head, as one would pick an apple from an orchard, and then, you see a flicker of true terror flash through the woman's face. In a smooth, deadly gesture, Feyd Rautha smashes her face against the wall, the resounding sound of her skull fracturing against the concrete is like the cracking of a whip in your ears. 

That's all it takes, one move, and she falls into a lifeless heap, sliding down the wall. 

A sigh escapes your lips, as your eyes stay glued to her body. You can't see her face. 

Your husband barks something towards the remaining two women, and they scurry towards you, heads hung low, bodies curled onto themselves. You don't know, whether he looks at you, acknowledges you in any way, shape or form. The doors close behind him, as he leaves you in the hands of his... Whatever these women are to him. 

They begin to strip you where you stand. Their hands peel off your wedding dress from your trembling body, and every move feels like tearing skin from muscle. You can't protest, can't do anything really. Dark, thick blood pools around the third woman's head, dripping between the tilled floor, slowly making it's way closer to your feet. 

When they pull you towards the bed, you say nothing. Let them massage your body with some ointment, which smells of heavy chemicals and scratches your throat. 

Their hands are unexpectedly delicate. You suppose they're too scared to take revenge on you, or perhaps, they just don't care. Doesn't really matter, because you do. You really care, despite yourself. Heart squeezes in your chest impossibly tight, when they help you up from the bed, and once again you're confronted with the white corpse in the corner of the room. 

The dress they pull over your body hardly qualifies as a garment in your eyes. It's made of delicate, sheer material, which barely covers anything, looking more like a courtain thrown over a window. 

Is this how he wants you, you wonder. Terrified, bare, always on the verge of something, be it tears or anger. 

One of the women steps in front of you, takes your hands in hers and rubs something into your cold bones. You try to catch her eye, try to decipher how to categorize them, as humans or as creatures, but she swiftly ducks under your inquisitive gaze. That is, until your eyes flicker towards the corpse once again. 

Her hand shoots up towards your chin, dragging you back to meet her onyx eyes. You can see the reflection of your own confused face in the void.

- You- she rasps, her voice a grating symphony of gurgles and growls that stumble over the common language - Soft.

Whether it's a warning, or a threat, you can't fully decide, but it doesn't matter. Those two words tell you more about your future life, than any book, any archived account. This is what the Harkonnens are made of. Sensless violence, outbursts of anger, dark blood. You swallow thickly, and nod, your expression hardening in the woman's eyes. She looks as if there's something else she'd want to say, but her head ducks at record speed, when the sound of the doors opening cuts through the air once more. 

For a longer moment you're completely devoid of words. 

Here stands you husband, some sort of fruit in his right hand, two daggers hanging from the belt on his trousers. His chest, white and (unfortunately) toned beyond belief stares back at you. His unoccupied hand makes a wide gesture, and the remaining two women scurry off towards their third, dead companion. With quick hands, they grab the body and drag it out of the room, letting the door slide closed behind them. Immediately, you miss their presence, unnerving as they are.

Once again, you're left alone with the na-Baron. 

His eyes float freely all over your figure, taking it in with an impassive stare. It's deeply unnerving, the way you're presented to him, the way he organized all of this, tailored it to his liking. You can't help it, the way your body begins to warm before him, skin becoming prickly to the touch, much too sensitive for the strange imitation of fabric covering it. Still, your mind stays sharp, and instinct kicks in, as you take a cautious step back, angling your bady away from him. 

- So, what now? - you ask, voice rough, eyes following his every move. 

And move he does, slowly advancing towards you. His feet, which you now discover, are bare, drag behind him. Grace and danger mix well within his movements, as he circles you, still without a word. You throat runs dry, when he bites the fruit in his hand, dark juice spilling all over his lips, drops rolling down his hands, his forearms. Your stomach churns. 

- Now - again you're reminded of the gravely tones his voice can carry - We consumate our marriage, wife. 

Somehow, your marital status sounds like a mockery spilling from his lips, and he laughs at the way your face scrunches.

- I don't want you to touch me - a lie, your entire body burns for any semblence of friction, but you're determined to keep some dignity.

To that, he nods his head in silent agreement, a gesture, which actually manages to surprise you. The fruit is thrown forgotten onto the floor. It rolls under the bed, and you fight the urge to reprimend your husband. Instead, you bite your lip. 

- I thought you would say that - he murmurs, coming closer, his breath fanning over your exposed shoulder. 

The hair at the back of your neck stands straight, and you crane your head to the side, so you can look him in the face. So he can see the disaproving expression, perhaps he'd feel a fraction of the hate boiling in your gaze. Then, you can feel something, cold and sharp, drag itself from the dip in your spine, all the way up to your shoulder blades. A gasp escapes you, and your entire body shivers violently. 

- That's why I brought these. - Feyd Rautha whispers into your ear, and you can't help but sway lightly in your place, as if his words have the power to physically move you.

Then, your hand closes around a metal object, and you look down to be met with a beautifully crafted dagger. The blade is silver, shiny, and unbelievably sharp. It fits into your grasp as if it was made specially for you, and the possibility almost makes you smile. Then, confusion creases your brow, and your husband flashes you a deadly, black smile, as he steps back a couple of steps. 

He's holding a blade as well, jet black and strangely matte, a perfect antitype of yours. There's a sort of lazy excitement about him, hidden in every movement. It reminds you of the way he'd behave in the arena, while making a spectacle of death for you and your family. 

- I though this would work on you - he muses, twirling the blade in his hand, and your muscles seize with realization. - And it definitely works on me.

The idea is preposterous, utterly scandalous. Using a fight as some perverse attempt at foreplay, your brain swimms with conflicting emotions. 

- You're being ridiculous - you attempt to diffuse the situation, but your husband doesn't budge, rolling his shoulders.

- Come on, wife - he snarls, with a sharp smirk - Don't you want to hurt me?

Something boils inside of you at his words. Some ancient, terrifying anger that you supposed, has always been there with you. From the moment you stepped onto the red carpet, leading you towards your undoing at the altar. Red, like the spilled blood still staining the floor of this bedroom. The rage, which you swallowed down, when you recited the vows, when you let him unveil your face, kiss you in front of the entire Atreides court. Now, it seeped through every pore in your skin, covering you in a tar like courtain. 

You hate your husband. You hate Feyd Rautha, the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

Hate him for being your husband, for agreeing to this cruel match. For taking you away from your family, from your wise Father, and your strict Mother, and your sweet Brother. For ripping you away from love, which didn't even have time to properly bloom. Duncan's face dances in front of you like a taunting vision from an angry god, and your fingers tighten around the dagger. 

Feyd Rautha is right. You want to hurt him. You wanted to, before you even met him. 

- There you are - his lips pull back into a cruel, blackened smile of self-satisfaction - I was worried they took away all your venom, Viper. 

You'll show him fucking venom, you think, feet sliding on the floor, twisting your body into a dancing position. Two sets of shields click into life, and suddenly you begin to understand. 

This is your arena. This is your bull. 

This will be your battlefield for the rest of your life, for as long as you're able to withstand it. With courage and grandiose, your Father's voice haunts you, but soon after another echo rises in your mind. Your Mother, your teacher, her whisper slithers from your memory, a passing comment right before you're shipped off to Giedi Prime, when she squeezed your hand so tight, you were worried tendons under your skin would snap. 

Excitement and arousal flow freely from your husband's expression, as he watches yours harden. Something inexplicable settles over your features, a promise. You'll give him a fight of a lifetime, and he'll love it, every single time. It should unnerve you, the way his body lowers itself, like a panther ready to strike. It would've unnerved you some time ago. 

Now, however, it shows you a clear path to survival. This is how you take control.

Cold blood splatters from under your feet, as you jump towards him, a series of measured blows following closely behind. He blocks them, lets some be pushed back by the shield. Then, he's on you, brutal and unhibited slashes fly around your body, and you meet all of them with a blocking blade. You're pushed back, towards the wall, where remains of the previous killing still stain the concrete. Blood seeps into the thin fabric on your body, and you shiver in disgust, as it sticks to you. 

Your husband doesn't notice, his blade leaves a rather deep mark in the wall, as you duck under his arm, and avoid a nasty punch to the gut.

 Plap, plap, plap, your feet carry you through the room, as you try to gain some leverage. The mattress on the bed is surprisingly soft, when you climb on top of it, gaining the advantage of a higher position. An advantage, which is quickly torn out of your hands, as your husband grabs onto your ankle, tugging at it with such force, you tumble down in an instant.

Panic rises in your gut, as the world sins around you, and without really thinking, you let your mind flow into autopilot.

- Let me go! - the Voice tears out of your throat like a landslide, and Feyd Rautha throws himself off of you, his body colliding with the nearby desk. 

Books and papers crash to the floor with the force of his figure. Your head swimms, but you will it away, too focused on survival to care for your well-being. Both of you are panting, trying to recover from this sudden use of ancient magics. 

- I should rip that treacherous tongue right out of your skull - the threat would carry more strength, if your husband's expression wasn't absolutely dripping with unabashed lust. 

Never in your life has someone looked at you this way, and the shock of emotions is enough to pull you right to your feet. Your blade reflects the dim lights of the room, as you raise it high, body taunt and ready. 

- You'll never get that close.

A challenge, which doesn't even have enough time to properly resound in the thick air of the room, before Feyd Rautha pushes himself off the desk. Things clatter to the ground from the force of his movements, and you barely have time to react, when his blade sinks into your shield. Your body flies backwards, falling in heap with his at the foot of your marital bed. The edge digs into your back, your left hand pressed tightly into the mattress. 

He's hovering over you, panting like a wild animal, face illuminated red from below, where, just short of his juggular, your blade licks a stripe across his alabaster skin. His right hand is wedged between your bodies, dagger nicking you under your ribs. And you stay in this position, like a marble statue, your eyes melting into his, frozen in time. 

- You fought well, Atreides - his voice rumbles deep within his chest, and you can't help, but snarl at his words. - We would've taken each other to an early grave. 

Something dangerously close to fondness floods his features at the idea, and your fingers start to unravel, letting go of the dagger one by one. He doesn't have a chance to react, when your blade clatters to the floor, and your hand, now free, grabs the back of his head, pulling him down.

Your kiss opens the gates of hell, and soon, his own dagger is thrown across the room. You can't see, refuse to see, as your eyelids flutter closed. His lips are slightly chapped, but not any less delicious. Left hand thrashes in his hold, until he lets it go. Then, they both find purchase against his sharp cheekbones, and you hold him so tight, you might break his face with your ministrations. 

- I knew it would work - he pants against your lips, you can hear the smile in every syllable.

- Shut the fuck up - you snarl, fingers digging deeper into his skin.

He groans into the kiss, immediately forcing his tongue into your mouth, as his hands work hard to manouver your legs open enough, for him to slot in between. Then, his touch is everywhere. On your legs, he drags the sheer fabric up and down your thighs, as he carresses your skin, blunt nails digging into the flesh of your hips. They venture upwards, to grab at your breasts, they fight their way into your hair, where he pulls and scrapes. 

It doesn't matter, you think, when you hear the fabric tear, and the carefully chosen attire falls from your body. Nothing matters. 

You're boneless and defenseless against this one insidious emotion, which carries your every move, which compells you to arch your back, to reveal your running pulse under his searching lips. Feyd Rautha bites down on your skin, right where your neck meets your shoulder, and you respond in kind, head descending upon his porcelain skin. He shudders under your teeth and tongue, his entire body tensing.

This is how you take control, and you've never felt so greedy. 

His trousers aren't even fully off of his legs, when he enters you, clumsily and with urgency, bare feet sliding on the floor. Surprisingly inexperienced, he chases your core with his entire body, as if the heat of your insides in a completely foreign sensation.Your moan tears at the column of your throat, where his lips leave a trail of purple marks. The covers remains undisturbed, as your husband ruts into you, pressing your back harder against the edge of the bed. It's uncomfortable, it's hurtful, but somehow, it feels perfect for the two of you. Fucking like wild animals, not even able to make it onto the bed.

- I hate you - you repeat, like a mantra, broken voice cascading with every thrust. - I hate you, I ha- 

Your head rolls backwards, when a particularly hard thrust nearly breaks you, but your husband is here to help, his hand grabbing the the roots of your hair, bringing your head down, so you can watch as he performs a magic trick of repeatedly disapearing into your body. 

You're not sure who's blood his hand slips on, but suddenly, you're fully on the floor, your body crushed by his. Nothing stops his wild movements, not the sloppiness of it all, not the hard wails he tears from your body. If anything, the more strain his body is under, the more ferocious he's being. Your hand shoots up, all five fingers digging into his throat, and you're rewarded with an angelic moan, which almost brings you to your finish line. Almost. 

His head leans down into the crook of your neck, where he whispers something in Harkonnen, a gurgle of rough sounds, interrupted by sinful moans. He sounds so beautiful, so conflicted, for a second you consider being gentle with him. Alas, you hate him still.  

Another realization dawns upon you, as your feet kick with force into your husbands backside, to force him deeper, to keep him inside. This is still a fight. You're still on the battlefield, still waving a red flag in front of a raging bull. So, with courage and grandiose, your muscles tense, and you roll your husband over. 

The change in position makes both of you gasp in unison, as you sink down onto him. For a second, everything stops. His lips are red and swollen, sweat and blood mix on his skin, flow down in pinkish stripes. And he watches you, as one would a holy painting of a foreign god. With reverence and utter lack of understanding. You're fully aware the look is mirrored on your face. 

Slowly at first, your hips begin to rock, up and down, in a steady rhythm, that forces a shuddering breath to leave Feyd Rautha's lips. You bend down, to catch it, and because of your greed, you catch his bottom lip as well. The bite you give him is anything but romantic, and his hips jump from the floor, hitting a spot within you, you didn't know existed. He swallows your moan along with his own blood, and his fingertips map the curve of your spine, as you straighten upon him.

Fingernails latch themselves into the skin of his chest, as you speed up, chasing your own release and no one else's. Moans spill from your lips, the concept of shame abandoning your mind completely. Then, compelled by something dark and twisted you drag claw marks down his torso. 

His body shudders, and his hips lift off the ground, fucking into you with reckless abandon. The hold he has on the flesh of your hips is bruising, to say the least, but you did enough damage to call it even. Enough, to make your body tremble and tense up, as climax creeps up on you steadily. 

Like a shark sniffing for blood, he senses the change in your being, and as you tumble over the edge, a silent scream tearing at your throat, he suddenly rises into a seating position. His arms encircle you fully, pressing your sweaty bodies impossibly close, as he too finds his own end. 

It takes him second, to tumble over, filling you to the brim with ink. His head buries itself into your shoulder, inhaling your scent through deep gasps, each eliciting a broken growl from his chest. 

Your bones are gone completely, body relaxing and falling breathless into your husband's arms. After a while of sitting in complete stillness, he moves first. Strong hands lift you up, off of him, and you whine at the emptiness. 

Then, as a last hurrah, he throws you onto the bed, where your recovering body sinks into the soft mattress. It's heavenly, the way you seem to float in nothingness, head swimming from exertion. For a moment you don't even register him climbing into the bed with you, drunk on the fading tension seeping from your every pore.

The lights are almost completely out, yet his skin shines against the black comforter. You wish to see if he's flushed, like he was at the engagement party. Leaning on one arm, his fingers trail around the small wound under your ribs. Dried blood flakes off of your skin, and you shudder again. 

- I - you start, voice completely broken - I've never known hate, until I met you. 

You're not sure why you've said it. Perhaps, in this moment of serenity, truth seems to float to the surface much more easily. Or perhaps you're possessed, or worse, gone completely insane. Eother way, your eyebrows furrow, and Feyd Rautha leans down to kiss your forehead, gently. 

- If this is how your hate looks like - he whispers into your hairline, teeth scraping lightly against it - I dread to imagine your love. 

You'll never find out, you think, but for some reason can't fully vocalize it. 

He says something else, after a while, but your mind is becoming as heavy as your body, and as the day descends upon you in a heap of exhaustion, you fall asleep.

And while your story has nothing but suffering in the future, while there's death and mourning, and years of violence written in the stars for you. Right now, on the Harkonnen ship sailing through space to Giedi Prime, you sleep in the arms of your husband. Whether this strange symbiotic relationship will last, no one can tell, but there is hope, and what else could you possibly need? 

[brain-amoeba]

Hii! Thinking about medic with a reader who's first language is also German. Idk what you wanna do with it, general hcs or whatever, but I imagine the moment reader notices he has an accent they speak to him exclusively in German lmao

you + all the other lovely anons who have sent me the most toe curling and amazing asks are fueling my fire and i fear with this one i may slightly disappoint only because i dont speak German....so if you do speak German please bare with my shoddy google translate skills..and feel free to correct any grammatical errors or give advice!! :D

in which reader is medic's newly assigned help and at first he brushes you off until he catches you speaking German

***

Medic typically did not pay the various assistants who came and went any mind. If anything, he was indignant towards the concept at all! The Doktor was perfectly capable of handling his workload and aiding the fellow mercenaries in battle perfectly fine--so why do they insist on hiring these nutzlos (useless) assistants?! With a heavy sigh, Medic returns to his medbay to find you hunched over the sink in concentration. Unfortunately for you, a stray scalpel acquainted itself with your finger while cleaning the examination table. You squeeze your finger under the running faucet, and between sharp inhales murmured curses to yourself for being so clumsy. "Verdammt! Es tut sehr weh...zu viel blut..so eine kleine schnittwunde!" (Damn it, it hurts a lot..so much blood..such a small cut!) Medic stopped dead in his tracks. Did he hear that correctly? He inched closer to you, but kept his distance--as if you were a skiddish doe, for fear of scaring you off. His heart was almost beating out of his chest...dammit, why was the thought of another human within a 5 mile radius speaking his mother tongue so exhilarating?! ...Eine frau, no less?! The medic cleared his throat as to passively make his presence known. "Ehm, fraülein, sprichst du auch Deutsch?" (Do you also speak German?)

You jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, but quickly looked over your shoulder while still tending to your wound. "Jawohl, Herr Doktor...hilfe, bitte?!" (Yes sir, Doctor... help, please?!) You showed him your bleeding finger, squeezing still to dramatize the wound as scarlet beads spurted from the opening like tears. "Right, but of course, schatz!" Medic rushed to your side, and helped you sanitize your wound. With one swift movement, he shut off the faucet and led you to the examination table by the waist. "Seems a little excessive for a surface cut, don't you think, Doctor? ...I just needed a little help getting patched up." You asked, sitting nervously atop the unwelcoming metal surface. "Oh, nein, we can't afford to have anything happen to meine lieblingsassistent!" He mused, carefully handling your injured digit as he spoke. Medic applied a topical antibacterial whose sting earned an audible wince from you, screwing your eyes shut. He continued, humming too excitedly as he proceeded to wrap your delicate finger in gauze and fasten it to ensure your wound may heal properly and be free from infection. "Sehr gut!" Medic smiled at you innocently and gave you a gentle head-pat before turning to stow away his equipment.

Upon finishing, he gently took your hand in his and left a courtly kiss atop it. "...?! Herr doktor, what has gotten into you?" Your body was set ablaze with a new type of anxiety, excitement, and confusion than ever felt before. You attempted to maintain your professionalism, but the way Medic gazed upon you now, half-lidded and piercing past his circular lenses and into your very core...you knew this was no way a boss treated their subordinate. The Doktor sighed as he slowly tightened his grip on your hand. You whimpered, attempting to pull away. What a mistake that was! Wordlessly, he pulled you towards him in one fell swoop and instantly closed the safe distance between the two of you. "Oh, fraülein, I just remembered...I never gave you a proper examination! It's simply a routine checkup." His free hand now rested atop your head, thumb gently caressing along where your hair parts. "Worry not...I am more than qualified to perform any necessary gynecological procedures, schatz!"

[patchworkcowboy-archive]

RP PLOTTING/SCENARIO WISHLIST

If interested feel free to reply, DM, or ask for my discord!

ARRANGED MARRIAGE AU (with a twist) -- In this verse Patchwork Jack is a servant for a well off family. The oldest child of said family is arranged to be married to your muse but doesn't want to do that so they force PJ to take their place (PJ is still a shapeshifter in this verse so it makes impersonaiting people easy). The spoiled rich kid switches back and forth with Jack, being actually present for court matters/important legal decisions but peaces out and makes PJ handle literally everything else. Your muse falls in love with PJ thinking they're actually the rich person they were wed to. Bonus points if the truth comes out in a dramatic way. Meant to be angst with comfort.

MODERN AU (but still fantasy bc I love fantasy species lol) -- More or less the same as his usual verse but he's a rancher who used to be in a biker gang. He has full shapeshifting abilities in this verse and is a drifter, travelling and frequently shifting forms to avoid his former gang from finding him and beating him to a bloody pulp. He works as a handyman/farm hand for hire in this verse.

City slicker x country or rich farm owner x friendly farmer neighbor: Opposites attract, right? I feel like this verse is pretty self explanatory especially if you've ever seen a Hallmark movie.

Want some angst? -- PJ tries to save someone you care about, isn't able to and per that person's dying wish shifts into them and takes their place.

More angst? -- Someone steals PJ's iconic hat, dies with it on and everyone thinks PJ is dead. Turns out he is very much alive... Except your muse has already mourned him and moved on so he's not sure if he should reveal that he's still alive or not.

Take me back -- Your muse meets PJ back when he was still running with his gang and still a warlock. He's very violent and scary in this flashback verse. Expect a fight scene or two.

Familiar Mask/Masquerade AU -- Youngest adopted child of a noble family and only shapeshifter of said family, he's not allowed to go out in public a lot... With the exception of Masquerade Balls. Much to his parent's frustration he keeps shifting forms and wearing the same mask. Will your muse figure out that the real mask is his body/shifted form or will they just think the mask he wears is trendy? Aka your muse keeps meeting someone who feels familiar at a masquerade ball but can't figure out why. Also in this verse, he sneaks out frequently and does hijinks at night. Bonus points if your muse catches him stealing from the rich and giving to the poor while still wearing his masquerade clothes lmao.

I'm a sucker for soulmate AUs. Matching soulmarks or one arm is a quote from your enemy, the other your lover are my fave tropes ngl.

Poly Ships -- I love a healthy poly ship. This cowboy has two hands and a lot of love.

Redacted ;) -- I'm getting more comfortable writing n.sfw so if you'd like to save a horse and ride a cowboy in a full out thread lmk. I'm also open to writing on discord too.

[mrsnancywheeler]

ok so this is something i ALWAYS #think about whenever i listen to breakup songs, and esp after that blurb u wrote about billy blindsiding the reader with that scathing song.

but what do u think about the dynamic between billy and a shy!reader, or someone who hates being in the limelight. Like they met when the band was somewhat popular and the attention she got for being billy’s “girl” was tolerable.

they’re still in a situationship, and they still argue a lot, but I’m just thinking about the potential angst of billy writing the most insane breakup songs about her, and shes just crying bc all of their business is being aired out 😭 PLEASE i can imagine him being such an ass about it lowkey, he’d be like “what? i thought you wanted to be treated like your special. None of the other groupies have songs written abt them😁” SIR???

She understands that it’s the price you pay for being with an artist, but he can get so mean with it, esp if its a song like regret me. But 1. He’s billy dunne, so ofc she comes back. 2. Sometimes he tries to “make it up” by writing a (very vague) love song that may/may not win her back.

tbh I’m just projecting but this has been idea has been in my head for a while LMAO sorry if it’s weak/doesn’t make sense🫡

-🦅

no like pookie would just like to sit in the background, be backstage, avoid media as much as possible but then they're getting into a fight because billy's the worst and suddenly he's insisting one of the songs on the album is gonna be one where he explicitly talks about the negative side of your relationship and of you, again giving regret me core

"billy please don't put that on the album, that's private stuff, please" you're literally begging because you don't need people knowing all the toxicity that comes with being billy dunne's girl

"you're a groupie for the lead singer of a rock and roll band, don't act like don't want attention" he's just doing a line and is just annoyed

"I don't!" he's scoffing but you literally feel like you might cry, "please, billy, it's gotta stay behind closed doors. people can't know me like that"

"baby, it's good fucking song, you can't just ask me to scrap one of the best pieces I've ever written just because it hurts your feelings." and you realize he's dead serious and just start bawling, because now everyone's gonna know how tumultuous your relationship is. how unsteady you are.

because I'm always comparing them to fleetwood mac and the rumours album, this reminds me of how stevie nicks talks about go your own way and how it made her feel.

"most girls would be on their knees for me to write a song about them, and you want to be my girl but what? don't want the songs? then you're not gonna be my girl"

"fuck you, billy. fuck you!"

OKAY SORRY I'M LISTENING TO FLEETWOOD MAC AS I WRITE THIS AND GOLD DUST WOMAN CAME ON AND JUST- it's about a girl trying to get through a difficult relationship and doing a lot of drugs, I'll do a post because this is so something billy would write about his muse that's pretty scathing and personal

but like a song like that, that analyses you in and out, so infuriating

anyways yes, he does try to make it up by writing a song that's less scathing, it definitely still references how difficult the relationship is, but mentions the love there too. and she's really just going for it because she wants to be with him even though it's hurting her.

it makes sense pookie, thank you for your service 🫡💋

[missingcarrion]

carrion // ch14 muddied waters

masterlist

taglist @tapioca-milktea1978 @neapolitantoebeans

notes drug use lmao

kofi

-

“Are the nightmares still plaguing you?” She isn’t a doctor, or a psychologist, but Laurie does her best to read up on mental health and reading psychology books – Laz was sure he told her that wasn’t necessary, but she’s since bought five more books. He’s not sure what she intends on proving here, if she intends on proving how broken his mind and body are, or if she intends to merely help him, but he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want to be more of a  burden than he’s been for the last decade.

            He cocks his head to the side and shifts, pushing himself into the edge of the couch. He doesn’t like these conversations, but then, if they don’t talk, it’ll all come back to him the moment he goes to bed.

            “You know they do,” he replies bitterly, “some nights they aren’t as bad as they normally are, but it’s the same one every time. Running, running, then bleeding out. Then dead. And then I wake up. Same old, same old.”

            Laurie sighs, “Laz, we’re going to have to do something about this eventually. You don’t sleep well; you don’t eat well. A lot has changed with you since you woke up, we need to do something about this before it gets too bad.”

            Lazarus doesn’t meet her gaze – shame coats his body like a thick blanket, painting his pointed ears red. Shame, guilt. The feeling of being useless at the hands of his own body. His own issues are wearing her down, wearing her kindness thin.

            “I… I’ve tried everything, you know that…. I don’t,” he pauses for a second, brows furrowed, “maybe I… I should think about… moving out. I don’t… I don’t want to be too much for you and Ellie.”

            “I – I don’t know about that, Laz, that’s not really a solution. You’re just…. Prolonged the inevitable. Your body needs to eat and sleep, you’ll shut down and maybe even die if you don’t get this checked out.” She scrunches her face up in uncertainty. “Please, at least see that street doctor, okay? The one that patches you up? He may be able to help.”

            “Do you think it’d help?” He looks at her, brows furrowed. He’s unsure. He didn’t even like Vik – not like he wasn’t a good doctor, but any doctor working in a shady back alley room is probably not one you want to receive psychological help from. But… he can’t really afford not to try. “I… I could give it a shot.”

            “Just try, Laz. It’s all we can ask of you.” She smiles softly and she grabs his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You deserve to get better.”

            I don’t know about that, he thinks, and the thought is so bitter, so laden with poison, he’s not sure where it came from. He doesn’t want to languish in this suffering any longer, and yet he’s scared his own mind wants him dead.

—

            Vik stares at Lazarus, with furrowed brows. He leans back in his chair, legs crossed, and his synthetic eyes analytical and watching. He’s half technology, half flesh, but it’s hard to tell where flesh ends, and metal begins. He’s one of the best street doctors in all of Akosey, much less the subcity of Terosi. How Lazarus ended up in his care to begin with, was astounding.

            “Looking good, Az,” Vik muses, and eyes him up and down, “how’s the breathing? Airways clear? And the scars, how are they? Are they starting to fade? You should’ve come in for a checkup sooner, we need to keep up with your healing.”

            “I… I’m fine, all of that’s fine,” he shakes his head, tensing. He doesn’t like this topic of conversation; he doesn’t want to think about how much his life has been ruined. “Laurie made me come here. Something’s wrong with my mind.”

            “Any person could see that,” he replies, his tone cold and calculative and he sits upright, as if measuring the levels of Lazarus’s mental damage, “what you’ve endured has a name: torture. We’ve repaired your body, but your mind? Oh, Az, your mind must be filled with so many little holes. Not even the doctor could fix you.”

            He winces, his reaction so visceral he can almost taste the copper of his blood, a phantom taste, a memory from a time he wants to move past. “I don’t know who you mean.”

            “Please, you can lie to Laurie, and to the people who walk into that lovely little diner of hers, but you cannot lie to me. I know your face, I held your decaying, bullet ridden flesh in my hands, and I pieced you back together,” Vik stands, his eyes narrowed, “I know you. You can hide all you want, but you cannot hide here.”

            Lazarus narrows his eyes, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turn white. The handle of his cane creaks under his grip, wrath and fear bubbles and boils under the surface of his skin like a thousand needles. “Then why not tell them. They’re hunting me even now. Why not tell them that I’m here and get it over with?”

            “If I wanted to turn you in, I’d have sent your dead body to the Institute with a neat little bow,” he snorts loudly, “you’re a person, Az, one worthy of far more respect than you think you deserve.”

            Lazarus’s jaw tenses and he grits his teeth, gaze glued to something else in the room. His body is tensed, and he clicks his tongue, “I’m not deserving of anything, Vik. I’m just Lazarus. Lazarus with an addled brain that wants him dead.”

            “Your mind is a fickle thing, isn’t it? It harms you to protect you from the trauma, imprisons you to shield you from it all. And yet, either way, you hurt,” Vik rests his chin against his palm, humming thoughtfully, “how badly do you hurt, Az?”

            He falters, a question he’s not given much thought to. He doesn’t eat well, doesn’t sleep well, and yet not once had he stopped and thought about how… badly it all hurt. How much it hurt. How much it still hurts.

            “I – I don’t know….” He murmurs, his body sagging in his chair, “I don’t know.”

            Vik hums, “think, Az, think about what was done to you, what you suffer through now, how does it hurt?”

            He swallows hard, “the pain of dying didn’t feel…. It hurt, but I felt so numb, so… empty. This… it’s like reliving that night over and over again, like I’m being muzzled and shot at over and over again. Every loud noise, every loud bang, my body thinks I’m getting shot again and the pain, it… it comes back. Every time. I – I don’t even go out anymore, I don’t like how… terrifying the outside is. How easy it would be for them to find me, or the exterminations.”

            There’s a thoughtful hum and then Vik is leaning back, “have you tried drugs?”

            Lazarus chokes and he coughs, “what?”

            “It’s not a permanent fix, but they have made synthetic drugs you can take to sort of rewire your brain, it’ll…. Relax you. Significantly, at first, and you might not want to do it in view of Ellie or Laurie for that matter. When your body gets used to it, you’ll be able to function properly.” Vik stands, and rummages through one of his medical cabinets. It’s a bit jarring, at first, and then he pulls out something akin to an inhaler, with a mask that covers your nose and mouth and a vial of presumably the drug. “They call it Songbird, why, who the fuck knows.”

            Lazarus eyes the contraption, warily, and for a brief moment it reminds him of the muzzle. As if sensing his apprehension, Vik sets it on the table between them, leaving the decision to him.

            “What does it feel like?” He asks, timidly. He picks up the mask, his thumb gently across the surface.

            “It feels good, if that’s what you want to know. It’ll make you feel weightless, almost, blissful. Like some poetic bullshit about floating in the clouds or whatever. It’s advised to think of something that made you happy as you take it, it’s an inhalant type drug.” Vik is nonchalant about it, and he rolls the vial of liquid against the table. “The mask’ll turn it into a gas for you, it’s pretty cut in dry. Would you like to try it here?”

            The mask sits on the table, and in the silence it feels so loud. His nerves turn into needles, pricking and stabbing at his flesh all over his body. He trusts Vik – not like he doesn’t have a choice considering this man had, at one point, held his guts in his hands. The least he could do is trust him enough to get absolutely hammered and not do anything fucked up.

            “You’d… let me just… do that here?” He asks, quietly, lips pursed in thought. “Just…. Get high? You’d just watch me get high?”

            “You’re not going to get hurt, promise, I’ve got a room in the back you can lay in and I’ll call Laurie letting her know what’s going on,” Vik offers, shrugging, “you don’t have to try it tonight, either. It’s just an option.”

            “I’ll try it.”

            “Hm, alright, follow me then.”

            Lazarus ignores the way his body begins to freak out, the way each step feels like knives in his flesh. His body feels hot and cold all at the same time, but he tries to ignore the heavy thumping of his heart that he hears in his ears. His all inhuman heart that this doctor had given him to save his life. A metal heart for a man who died.

            The room in the back looks more like Vik’s bedroom, with the couch having pillows and two blankets on it – did he really just sleep here? Doesn’t he live upstairs?

            Vik quickly fixes up the couch and gestures for him to sit. He holds the mask and the vial, “alright, pay attention, this is how you use the mask. See this part here? You put the vial in there upside down until it clicks into place, then you put it against your mouth and nose and breathe in, remove the mask, and exhale. Smoke will come out, don’t freak.”

Lazarus stares at him oddly, he’s not new to the idea of drugs. He knows how they work, this will just be… different because now he’s actively doing the drugs.

“Got it,” he nods, and takes the mask from Vik, “thanks… for this, for all of this.”

“Don’t get all mushy on me, Az. It’s disgusting.” He snorts, “I’ll be cleaning up the clinic, you can call me if you need me, alright?”

He nods slowly, and when he’s alone he stares at the contraption with mild intrigue. It could either make him feel better, if at least for a moment, or… it could make him worse. But maybe if he thinks of good things, like Vik had said, it might work.

Slowly, he raises it to his mouth and inhales slowly. He feels the drug enter his system – like a thousand tiny tendrils, reaching out to consume every piece of him. His body shudders and at first he wants to cough, but then the feeling dissipates.

His eyes flutter shut and he drops the mask into his lap, his body sagging against the couch. It feels…. So nice. Like someone has just lifted everything off his shoulders. He could… sleep like this….

[the-cult-of-russo]

Just Beneath The Flames (Part 16)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: cursing, smut at some point probably lmao, zombie shit, typical canon violence. You know the drill.

A/N: Alright guys, this is the last chapter. 

I’ll admit that I wasn’t planning on ending this story so soon and I feel pretty guilty, especially ending it without much warning. I know I’ll feel worse if I just leave it unfinished though. I’ve already got so many unfinished multi chapter fics that I haven’t gotten to finishing and people are always asking for updates. I know this way, I’ve at least wrapped it up a little so it’s not too bad. There’s always potential for me to come back to this story and add to it if I feel like it or if anyone had any ideas they wanted to throw at me to add in here. 

I’m feeling a little burnt out with it if I’m honest. This story has been so fun to write and I’ve loved seeing so many of you love reading it, but for some reason, now my brain is having a really hard time with it. I have other stories I’ve started that have been itching at me so I figured it was best if I finish it off instead of forcing myself to continue and churn out shitty content. 

The point of this rambling is to say that while this may be the ‘last’ chapter, I may go back to it at some point and do more so it’s not like 100% finished. And as I said, I’m welcome to ideas for it. 

—-----------------

Day Fourteen

Your hand came up to stifle a yawn and you blinked tiredly as you walked beside Billy.

“If we go this way, we can get to the highway. It's worth a look,” he mused, looking over the map in his hands before he glanced over to you.

“Sounds good to me,” you smiled tiredly, rubbing your eyes a little. His concerned gaze swept over your face before he folded up the map, shoving it into his jacket pocket and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Billy had decided to head to the highway instead of the original route planned, hopefully to find a car. You’d made it into Virginia now but it was a big place and you were still a while away. On foot, the journey would take you another few days but if you managed to find a car, you could cut it to just a few hours instead. You were pretty sure he’d decided on the new plan after seeing you shuffle around like one of the dead. It had only been two days since you left the cabin but traveling from sun up to sun down was really taking it out of you. You longed for the respite and safety of the tiny cabin. You missed sleeping beside him like that instead of the shifts taking watch like you had to do now, neither of you getting a full night sleep. It took almost an hour to get to the highway and it was very reminiscent of the one back by the old cabin. This one was smaller though and was slightly less jam-packed, a few of the dead stumbling around the derelict cars as they groaned.

“I've got them, you try the cars,” you murmured, giving Billy a wry smile before you headed off over to the roamers. You made quick work of them before you came back over to where Billy was trying to hotwire a car. If last time was anything to go by, you’d probably turn up with nothing. The cars weren't exactly in the best condition with the state they’d been left in and you had no idea if any of them still had gas left. You stood guard as Billy tried car after car, your knife poised and ready as you took care of any threats that came ambling your way so he could focus. The sound of an engine starting made your head whirl over to him as he sat up, climbing out of the car with a delighted laugh.

“Fuckin’ told you I’d do it,” he smirked as you walked over.

“Mhm, didn’t doubt you for a second,” you replied impishly and he snorted, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your lips. It was something you were still trying to get used to yet it also felt like you’d done it a million times before. 

“Come on,” he smiled down at you, pulling you over to the car. You slid into the passenger seat, your tired feet glad for the rest as he got into the driver’s side.

Your whole journey had been leading up to this moment, to finally see what awaited you at the safe house. You’d known what was at stake the entire time yet it felt far more real now as Billy drove there. You had no idea what you’d find. Maybe there wouldn't be anyone there at all or maybe the only person there was the person whose safe house it was. Or maybe some of the group would be there, others not making it. What if something happened to Sarah and the baby? What if something happened to the kids? The spike of anxiety hit you like a truck as you glared out of the window, trying to control your breathing. You weren’t even aware your leg was bobbing up and down restlessly until Billy’s hand reached over and stilled it. When you turned to him, he shot you a reassuring smile but you could see his own anxiety shining behind his dark eyes. Everything you were feeling, you knew he must be feeling tenfold. You’d grown to care for these people like family, but they were Billy’s family way before they were yours. You mustered your best smile for him, not wanting him to fuss over you when he must be feeling so much worse than you. The smile seemed to work as he seemed a little more relaxed before he turned back to the road. 

“Hope they’ve got dinner goin’, I’m fuckin’ hungry,” he remarked ruefully and you knew he was trying to keep things light. Not wanting to touch on all the other scenarios that could happen when you got there.

“I did offer you some soup this morning,” you shrugged, giving him an amused look.

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffed playfully. You weren’t stupid though. He hadn’t eaten this morning and you knew he was anxious about all of this. You’d barely been able to eat yourself but you’d forced some soup down you because you knew you needed the energy. 

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” he asked, giving you a soft look and you shook your head.

“Nah, I’m good,” you answered with a smile. You weren’t tired enough to sleep with your thoughts running so rampant and you didn’t want to leave Billy in silence on the drive there for a few hours. You knew nothing good would come of it. You tried to keep the drive light with conversion to keep both of your minds from wandering. You spoke about anything and everything. From stories from your time as a vet, to family stories that were more fun and lighthearted. Billy seemed content to listen and reply rather than tell any of his own tales but you had a feeling that most of his good memories were linked to the people you were trying to find so you didn’t mind him just listening to you. It was easy to talk to him and time seemed to fly by as he drove and before long, he was pulling down a dirt road through some trees. 

“Should be at the end of this road,” he mused softly and you nodded, your whole body tightening in anticipation. 

“Oh my god,” you murmured, sitting forward in your seat a little as your eyes widened. Billy seemed to be rendered speechless, not a smart-ass remark in sight. He pulled to a stop a little away as you both just gaped at what you could see.

The whole place was encompassed with large stone walls that were as tall as a house, barbed wire lining the top. There was a huge metal gate and what looked to be an intercom next to it. You couldn't see the building behind the walls but it looked more like a fortress than a safe house. It was way bigger than you thought it would be and at each corner of the walls, there were perch-like towers that would be perfect to take watch from or shoot if needed. You weren’t sure if the person who had this built was paranoid or maybe they had some inside knowledge of what was going to happen, but it sure as fuck seemed like it was perfect for a zombie apocalyspe. There even seemed to be what looked like wind turbines on either side. You both sat there for a moment as you looked at it before you both slipped out of the car. Billy walked around to you as you both slowly made your way up the dirt road, stopping a few feet away. You felt anxiety gnawing at you now it was go time and when you glanced over at Billy, his eyes were wide as they darted around. You didn’t want to push the intercom, knowing he needed to be the one to do it, he had to be ready.

“Guess it’s now or never, huh?” he asked, trying to smirk but it fell flat as his voice shook. You reached out and took his hand gently and he looked at you then, his face softening. “No matter what happens, I’m here,” you murmured soothingly. He blinked at you, a small smile toying on his lips as he gave your hand a squeeze. He looked back at the large metal gate then, taking a large shaky breath and rolling his shoulder. Once he’d steeled himself, he nodded, letting go of your hand as he made his way over to the intercom and pressed it, you hot on his heels.

“Anyone here?” he asked carefully but he was only met with silence.

“Frankie… if you’re in there, it’s Billy. I’m with Y/N… We… We made it,” he added, a desperate edge to his voice that had your stomach twisting in knots. Loud buzzing suddenly hit your ears and Billy stepped back quickly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you with him before he pushed you behind him slightly as if to protect you. The large metal gate started to open but before you had a chance to even try and observe the building or what was going on inside, Frank came barreling out and grabbed Billy so tight, he almost knocked him right off his feet. They clutched each other and you felt your eyes prick with tears, a smile on your face that had your cheeks hurting. Frank was muttering something but you couldn't make it out through his tears as they both cried. You were so wrapped up in the emotion of their moment, you didn’t even notice Karen until she was inches away from you and you were then engulfed in a tight hug.

“Oh my god, you made it,” she breathed, squeezing you hard as you hugged her back and allowed your tears to fall. The relief you felt was palpable. She moved away, a bright smile on her tearful face as she wiped her eyes. She turned to look at Billy then as he and Frank finally separated and she rushed over to him, grabbing him in a hug.

“Bring it in, Y/N,” Frank smiled widely as he approached you with his arms open wide. You hugged him and his arms came around you. It was the tightest hug the man had given you yet and you could feel him shaking as he held you.

“I’m so glad you made it. We all thought… After you walkied Bill and you were hurt…” he trailed off, holding you tighter for a moment before he let you go.

“It’s okay, Frank,” you murmured as you wiped your eyes with your sleeves. You were just relieved to see them.

“Everyone else… Are they…?” Billy asked, damp eyes darting from Karen to Frank.

“They’re okay, we all made it out,” Frank answered quickly, as if to ease his worries. You physically saw the stress leave Billy’s body as his shoulder sagged in relief, his lower lip trembling as he smiled and nodded.

“Bill… I didn’t mean to leave you back there, I-” Frank started, a deep frown on his face but Billy shook his head.

“It’s alright, Frankie,” Billy cut him off.

“No, It’s not,” Frank argued and Karen carefully rested a hand on Frank’s arm and made him look at her.

“Honey, they’d been through a lot, okay? Let them come in, see the others. You can explain after,” she suggested carefully. Frank looked from her to Billy, nodding reluctantly but he looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

“Come on, you guys should see this place. It’s pretty amazing,” Karen smiled at you and Billy. When you looked over at Billy, he gave you such a genuine smile it made your chest ache and he took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as Karen and Frank led you inside the gate.

You really couldn’t get over this place. The building itself was made from the same stone as the walls and looked to be two stories high. It was much bigger than you thought it would be but there was outside space all around it too. To the left there were rows and rows of crop plots, some of them already having things growing in them. You were startled to hear the sound of clucking and when you looked over behind the crop plots, you noticed a hen house. There were large solar panels off to the right of the building in a line along the walls as well as the turbines you’d seen from outside. When you stepped inside the building, your eyes swept around. It was a lot more homely than you’d expected inside with a large wooden staircase to the back of the building. There was a large living area with a fire and a huge kitchen off to the left with an island. It all looked modern and high tech. There were a few doors and Karen informed you one was to a basement that was stocked full of food, with Frank happily telling Billy it was also full of weapons and ammo too. Karen explained there were a bunch of bedrooms upstairs and a couple of working bathrooms. The place had working water and even its own sewer system. It was like the cabin but better. It was overwhelming being reunited with everyone and not one person had a dry eye as they all hugged you and Billy. It became clear after seeing everyone that while everyone seemed to think Billy would turn up one day, everyone had thought you were dead, not that you could blame them. You were just relieved they were all here and okay, you could hardly believe it. Before long, Frank and Karen had taken you and Billy over to the large dining table near the kitchen. You and Billy sat at one side, Frank and Karen at the other and Billy grabbed your hand, pulling it onto his lap as he held it tightly.

“I’m sorry,” Frank said firmly, giving Billy a pointed look.

“Frank-” Billy started with a frown but Frank held his hand up.

“I shouldn’t have left you behind, man,” he lamented, shaking his head.

“You didn’t leave me behind. You kept tellin’ me to fall back and I didn’t listen. That ain’t on you,” Billy argued.

“Everything was just… hectic. We got out but… but Matt and Karen were shot,” Frank explained. Your eyes snapped to Karen then who smiled ruefully and you felt Billy’s hand tighten around your own.

“I'm part of the cool kids club now,” she remarked wryly and Frank gave her a look.

“Micro was driving the truck, Sarah and the kids up front. Me, Curt and Foggy were in the bed, tryin’ to help Karen and Matt. Micro thought you were there too and he just took off, tryin’ to get us safe. Before I knew what happened, we were already halfway to Virginia,” Frank muttered, guilt coating his tone. 

“He almost murdered Micro when he found out, Curtis had to drag him off him,” Karen murmured.

“I just… I didn’t know what to do. We were already so far out and we needed to get Karen and Matt somewhere safe, to patch ‘em up better. So we came out here,” Frank frowned deeply.

“It was the right call,” Billy insisted.

“Once I knew Karen was okay, I wanted to head out and find you, but Karen told me to stay put,” Frank admitted, shaking his head.

“I knew you’d find us here. If felt pointless him going out there, you’d just be missing each other,” she explained softly as she looked at Billy.

“It’s a good job you didn’t come back for me. Who knows what woulda happened, I might not have found Y/N and we’d all still be thinkin’ she was dead and she’d be out there all alone,” Billy muttered gravely and the thought stabbed you right in the chest. You didn’t want to think about the what ifs because they were pointless and the other reality was honestly terrifying. You weren’t sure what you would have done if you hadn’t found Billy that day.

“See, it all worked out in the end,” Karen smiled, giving Frank a meaningful look. She looked like she’d had this conversation already with him, trying to ease the guilt he felt at leaving Billy behind. He was a lot like Billy in that way, carrying heaps of guilt he shouldn't be feeling.

“I guess it did,” Frank murmured, finally smiling as he looked between you and Billy. There was a look in his eyes that told you he’d already picked up in the shift with the pair of you but luckily he didn’t press it. You were just happy to be with everyone, happy they were safe and here. 

You wound up having dinner with everyone, you and Billy glued to each other’s sides as the kids wanted to know exactly how the ‘epic journey’ for you and Billy had gone and he regaled them with the tale as if it was from a storybook. While you'd tried to stay positive, mostly for Billy’s sake, you really had thought you’d have some bad news coming here and you couldn’t believe your luck to find none here. You’d finally caught a break and it was a fucking big one. You felt emotionally drained after the whole thing and by the time Billy was leading you up to a room he’d picked out for the both of you, you felt ready to sleep for a week. 

“This is a pretty nice set up,” Billy mused as you walked into the bedroom. It was a decent size with a double bed, chest of drawers and wardrobe. 

“I know. This place is amazing, I really feel like we have a chance at a normal life here,” you replied as you looked around and put the spare clothes on the bed that Karen had given to you and Billy. Billy pulled you over to him and you smiled up at him before he kissed you. When he pulled away, he kissed the tip of your nose.

“You okay?” you asked him as you ran your hands up his chest.

“Yeah. This whole thing’s just taken it out of me, can’t wait to get some rest,” he grinned ruefully.

“I feel that,” you snorted. A big part of you wanted to make the most of the working showers you had here but with the day you’d both had, you wound up changing into pajamas, the notion feeling wildly absurd, before you both slipped into bed. You both lay facing each other, your hand on his chest with your legs tangled with each other’s and his arm was around you, fingers drawing circles on your lower back.

“Thank you,” he murmured tiredly.

“For what?” you asked softly. He gave you a soft smile that made your heart feel like it skipped a few beats and you really couldn't believe how lucky you were.

“For bein’ you,” he answered simply, eyes crinkling a little and you snorted with a roll of your eyes.

“I mean it. You’re one of the most amazin’ people I’ve ever met. You’ve been my rock through all this shit. I don’t know how I woulda got through this without you,” he admitted earnestly and it made you smile.

“You’re pretty amazing too, Mr Russo,” you replied sleepily, leaning over to place a kiss to his lips. 

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips, his hand moving to stroke your face.

“I love you too,” you answered easily, unable to help the smile on your face.

Eight Months Later

“Y/N, look!” Zach beamed as he ran over to where you were grabbing some potatoes and putting them into a basket. Karen had requested them for the dinner she was making.

“That’s awesome, Zach. How many did you get?” you asked with a smile, seeing him with his own basket full of eggs. 

“Five. That’ll be enough, right?” he asked, eyes bright as he shifted on his feet.

“I’m sure that’s more than enough. You should go and give them to Karen,” you grinned at him, watching as he practically skipped off to the house. He loved those chickens more than anything and he’d taken the role of being the one to look after them and get the eggs when they laid. He seemed to enjoy having a job to do. You stood up, dusting off your jeans and jumped when you felt two hands grab your hips.

“Well, if it ain’t farmer Y/N,” Billy smirked into your ear, making you snort before you turned around. Your eyes dipped to the baby strapped to his chest, a wry smile tugging at your lips.

“You on baby duty?” you asked looking amused and he shrugged, a hand coming to cradle the baby’s small head.

“Figured Sarah and Micro could use the break,” he answered with a smile. Micro had been adamant on naming the baby William after Billy and you were sure it had something to do with how guilty he felt over being the one to leave Billy behind all those months ago. Nevertheless, Billy was stupidly smug about the whole thing. Delivering William had been terrifying but the safe house had a bunch of medical equipment. Curtis had taken the lead with you assisting, and thankfully, the birth had gone without any issues and both mother and baby had been perfectly fine. 

“Anyone would think you're trying to steal him with how much time you spend with him,” you snorted softly, giving him an impish look. Sarah loved to joke about how Billy was trying to steal the baby away, to turn him into a mini Russo. You’d never expected Billy to be a baby person but he absolutely loved spending time with the little boy. 

“Don’t listen to her, buddy. Aunt Y/N’s just mean to me,” he pouted playfully and you grinned as you shook your head, grabbing the basket with potatoes and carrots in. 

“What time do you wanna head out?” you asked as he walked with you back to the house.

“Maybe like an hour?” Billy suggested, his hand darting out and lacing with your free hand.

“Sounds good to me,” you smiled. He used the hold on your hand to tug you to him but to the side a little so you didn’t squash the baby, kissing you softly. You parted ways when you got inside as you went to give Karen the goods before you got ready. You and Billy made a habit of going out hunting every few days even though you really didn’t need to right now. You had a lot of food in the basement but you both didn’t like feeling cooped up and it was nice to get out just the both of you. Billy liked to call them dates. Life here was surprisingly easy and it all worked like a well-oiled machine. You never thought in your wildest dreams you’d have some place like this during the end of the world but you were glad you found it. You thought back to all that time ago, when you were starving and desperate and came across Frank and Billy’s camp. It had all started with that group of assholes who had slit your throat and left you for dead. It was strange how things worked out, how it rippled like that. If that had never happened to you, you’d never have been scared to go to the stores to get food, you’d never have been desperate enough to try and rob Billy’s camp. You’d never have met your new family and never have met Billy. The scar that had once been a reminder of something awful and traumatic was a symbol of hope for you now. It was the beginning of your new life, the one you’d made with Billy. Every shitty thing you’d ever been through had led you to this moment and while you were sad your brother wasn’t here with you to enjoy a place like this, you knew that wherever he was, he’d be looking down at you happy that you finally found some peace. For once you were forced to finally realize that good things can last in this new world. 

Taglist: (if you’ve been asked to be tagged and aren’t here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people.)

@firexfate

@blanchedelioncourt

@on-ya

@sunshinedaisies-anddeath

@snowkestrel

@music-indie-tv

@idaofinfinity

@sweetserendipity65

@ramadiiiisme

@k-marzolf

@celestialams

@woowwwee

@noortsshift

@rainbowgoblinfan

@mysweetlittledesire

[tazmilyxfamily]

SHIPPING INFO // ANSWER THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR MUSES SO PEOPLE KNOW HOW SHIPPING WORKS ON YOUR BLOG !

(under the cut because it got long LMAO)

WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER(S) ?

i don't have that many for most of them! i'm very much multiship and enjoy whatever sort of comes up

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE ?

as said in my rules, i think about within four years (if they're both adults) is my preference. there can be nuance (for example, Shadow is ""technically"" 50+ years old because of his time spent in stasis, but that doesn't mean i consider him that old) but generally that's my base rule for characters with normal aging.

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING ?

it sort of depends on the mun? if we talk about it enough and i start feeling The Vibe then i'll probably want to do it! you never know

WHO ARE OTHER CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH ?

OUGH tough question- this section is gonna be so long im so sorry lmao

Cat-Bee: no one in either her toy or toon verses

CatNap: no one in his toy verse as he's a child, but i'd be willing to ship him with others in his toon verse! i'm just not sure who, so none for now lmao

CraftyCorn: none right now, though i think her and Kickin' or Bobby could be cute as a little kid relationship thing

Dark Choco: Licorice Licorice Licorice. absolutely Licorice, though i do like the thought of him with Cream Unicorn. i also ship him with [redacted] but that's a Very Specific thing with one person

Hoppy: i can't really think of any!

Juniper: she's a Chao lmao

Shadow: there's a few that could be cute! Shadamy comes to mind, but honestly anyone from the cast who's within his age range could be fun depending on the other mun's interpretation. i also love all his potential friendships but that's not what this meme is about lol

Tails: no one, i can't see him being in a relationship

Toy Bonnie: technically he's a dead adult but i can't see him being with anyone either

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?

please do! i don't wanna misread social cues or whatever and end up making a fool of myself, especially when i'm aromantic and might not see things in a romantic light by default

ARE YOU SHIP-OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?

not obsessed with doing it, i'm pretty casual, but sometimes i hyperfixate on one specific ship :]

WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?

idk, im just kinda neutral to all of them! again, though, Shadamy sounds cute, and i can probably be convinced to ship anything lmao

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?

as said before, please just ask! even "i think they'd be funny/cute/etc together" works for a reason and i'll probably want to try! i just need to know so i can sort of "shift mindsets"

Tagged by ; @already-know-this-story! thank you!

Tagging ; uhhhhh @4ffogato @darkcacaocookieandfriends @civicmuses and whoever wants to yoink!

[pesterloglog]

Roxy Lalonde, Jade Harley, Calliope, Aradia Megido, Sollux Captor, Karkat Vantas, John Egbert, Gamzee Makara, Dave Strider, Rose Lalonde, Kanaya Maryam, Jane Crocker, Jake English

Candy, page 21

ROXY: thx everyone for joining us today

ROXY: we are gathered here to honor the memory of alternate universe jade

ROXY: alas we hardly knew her

ROXY: by which i mean we didnt know her at all

ROXY: cuz she fell out of the sky like a week ago and was already dead

ROXY: but i think that based on our long acquaintanceship with alive jade we can safely assume that she was totally rad

JADE: (ugh)

ROXY: so were all here to contemplate the vast cruelness of the universe that such radness was plucked in its prime

ROXY: psst callie the roses

CALLIOPE: oh, of coUrse!

CALLIOPE: pUrple roses traditionally represent love at first sight, however these roses are actUally red roses that we prepared Using a blUe dye.

CALLIOPE: the blUe rose is the most elUsive and mysterioUs of all flowers.

CALLIOPE: the combination of red and blUe in this context is meant to evoke the dUal natUre of death, in that there is nothing more mysterioUs and impossible to comprehend than the vast void of the afterlife, bUt also there is nothing that makes Us appreciate the life and and love that we already have than the mystery of death.

CALLIOPE: while death is terrifying, there is always joy to be foUnd among the sorrow. each time we witness death, we fall in love with the important people in oUr lives all over again.

ROXY: woah callie thats a beautiful metaphor

CALLIOPE: aw, thank yoU roxy. u_u

ROXY: dont sound so humble it is v v deep

CALLIOPE: i jUst can’t take credit for external inspiration.

ROXY: lmao cmon callie youre the literal muse

CALLIOPE: yes, bUt yoU’re...

ARADIA: oh no did we miss the entire corpse party

ARADIA: i hope not

SOLLUX: yes that w0uld be *such* a tragedy.

ARADIA: oh shush you

ARADIA: the tragedy is what i dont want to miss!

KARKAT: ARADIA?

KARKAT: HOLY SHIT... SOLLUX?!

SOLLUX: hey l0ser. it’s been a l0ng time.

KARKAT: IT’S BEEN A...

KARKAT: IT’S BEEN A “LONG TIME”?!

KARKAT: IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY TO ME?! IT’S BEEN MORE THAN A FUCKING HUMAN DECADE!

KARKAT: I THOUGHT YOU GUYS WERE DEAD.

ARADIA: no i wasnt dead

KARKAT: NO, I MEAN LIKE

KARKAT: “GONE FOREVER”??

KARKAT: I THOUGHT THAT YOU TWO LITERALLY DIDN’T EXIST ANYMORE!

KARKAT: OR AT THE VERY LEAST WERE TRAPPED IN A DEAD UNIVERSE PERPETUALLY COLLAPSING INTO ITS OWN ASSHOLE.

SOLLUX: 0h. n0pe.

KARKAT: FINE!

KARKAT: WALTZ IN HERE WITH NO EXPLANATION WHATSOEVER. SOUNDS ABOUT FUCKING RIGHT.

KARKAT: IT’S NOT LIKE YOUR SUDDEN AND UNEXPLAINED PRESENCE IS ANY LESS OF A JOKE THAN THIS “FUNERAL” WE’RE HAVING.

KARKAT: I MEAN, WHY STOP AT SOLLUX AND ARADIA?

KARKAT: MAYBE FUCKING NEPETA IS ABOUT TO POUNCE FROM BEHIND THAT GROTESQUE STATUE OF THE HUMAN SUFFERER T-POSING OVER THERE.

KARKAT: NEPETA, ARE YOU THERE? COME ON OUT! THE CORPSE PARTY WOULDN’T BE THE SAME WITHOUT YOU!

ROXY: SHOOSH everyone!

ROXY: there will be a reception with cake n candy after the service

ROXY: u all can have ur poignant reunions then

ROXY: before we unite in tearful togetherness we gotta unite in tearful loss

JOHN: wait... there’s more?

JOHN: i thought that nice speech callie made was, like...

JOHN: pretty much the funeral.

ROXY: lol no

ROXY: callie and i were just gettin started

JADE: oh my god...

ROXY: anyway where was i?

CALLIOPE: how the infinite mystery of death makes Us appreciate the love we have!

ROXY: right

ARADIA: so i see you managed to get out of the fridge

GAMZEE: i DiDn’T jUsT gEt OuT oF tHe FrIdGe, I wAs SeT fReE sIsTeR!

ARADIA: i see

GAMZEE: wHeN tHe DoOr Of ThAt FrIdGe pOpPeD oPeN iT wAs LikE i Be AlL sEeIn ThE lIgHt AnD sHiT.

SOLLUX: well yeah

SOLLUX: that’s what happens when s0me0ne 0pens a d00r t0 a t0tally dark encl0sure.

SOLLUX: fuck, i can’t believe y0u’re still this stupid.

SOLLUX: 0h wait i can.

GAMZEE: nO bRoThEr, It’S a MoThErFuCkIn MeTaPhOr.

GAMZEE: A mEtApHoR fOr ThE mIrAcLe Of rEdEmPtIoN!

ARADIA: redemption

GAMZEE: yEaH cHeCk It ThE fUcK oUt.

GAMZEE: i DiD My MoThErFuCkInG rEdEmPtIoN aRc. :o)

ARADIA: is that so

GAMZEE: i BeEn DoInG aLl KiNdS oF gOoD dEeDs At ThE lOsT mOtHeRfUcKeRs.

GAMZEE: pReAcHiNg ThE hOlY wOrD. mAkInG oUt WiTh OrPhAns.

ARADIA: oh hmm

SOLLUX: isn’t it “kissing 0rphans”?

ARADIA: let him talk sollux

GAMZEE: i EvEn GoT a HeAlThY mUtUaLlY fUlLfIlLiNg kIsMeSiS gOiN oN wItH tHaT fOxY hUmAn BrOaD uP fRoNt.

ARADIA: its so nice that you believe all that gamzee

ARADIA: i think i can honestly say

ARADIA: im reasonably happy for you?

ROXY: omg quiet in the back already!

ROXY: were tryin to have a beautiful and solemn proceeding up here

ARADIA: oh im sorry

ARADIA: i do agree that its a beautiful corpse party

ARADIA: but i think it would be even MORE beautiful if we could you know

ARADIA: actually see the corpse?

KARKAT: OH MY GOD ARADIA, WHY ARE YOU STILL LIKE THIS?

ROXY: oh lol ur right i cant believe that slipped my mind

ROXY: hey jake a lil help?

ROXY: im like hella pregnant here and shouldnt be doing any heavy lifting

JADE: ughhh...

DAVE: yo babe its ok

JADE: easy for you to say! youve got practice with this kind of thing!

DAVE: just remember its not actually your corpse

DAVE: i mean technically it is

DAVE: it both is and isnt your corpse at the same time

DAVE: which yeah the longer you think about it like that the more fucked up it gets

DAVE: but also when you objectively think about it the combined multiverse is a huge tangle of interrelated but totally random events and its only chance that this specific life is the one you ended up living

DAVE: you and that corpse could have just as easily switched places

DAVE: but also that would never actually happen because its not how paradox space works

DAVE: anyway my point is that nothing really matters so chill out

JADE: um, i love you with all my heart dave but youre REALLY not helping right now

ARADIA: now this is more like it

JADE: i cant look...

DAVE: oh

DAVE: here

JADE: uhh... what... are you doing??

DAVE: emotional support yo

ROSE: Dave.

DAVE: what

DAVE: id like to see you do better

KANAYA: Me Too Actually

ROSE: I’m sorry, but I’m not the one whose questionable consolation tactics are on trial here.

CALLIOPE: this isn’t a trial! it’s a fUneral!

JOHN: haha, they’ve got a point rose, you gotta admit.

ROSE: A point about what?

JOHN: um...

JOHN: you’re not great at consolation? just saying.

KANAYA: Oh You Dont Know The Half Of It

ROSE: Excuse all of you, but I’m an excellent advice giver.

JADE: umm nobody said anything about advice giving rose...

JOHN: oh yeah, the advice is top notch.

JOHN: but you’re kind of a weird person to like... cry in front of?

JOHN: no offense.

ROSE: What??

JOHN: the first time i ever got upset in front of rose irl, she put her arms around me and it was so awkward that i had to ask her if she was hugging me or reaching for something on the shelf behind me.

CALLIOPE: everyone, we’re getting rather off track...

ROSE: I was doing both for your information.

DAVE: the first time rose hugged me it was such a disaster we didnt make eye contact for like a week after

KANAYA: Jade Come Here I Shall Hold You In My Arms

JADE: thank you kanaya at least ONE of you knows how to treat a lady in distress!

JANE: Agreed. I’ve always felt that Kanaya has done an exemplary job of providing a model for compassionate, empathetic behavior, which others of her kind would do well to follow.

KARKAT: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?

JANE: I’m sorry, Mr. Vantas. Do you have another unsolicited political opinion you’d like to share with everyone?

KARKAT: CONSIDERING THE SHIT GEYSER THAT JUST SHOT OUT OF YOUR IGNORANCE CANNON, I’D SAY MY OPINION IS PRETTY FUCKING SOLICITED RIGHT ABOUT NOW.

CALLIOPE: EVERYONE!

CALLIOPE: be qUiet!!!!!

CALLIOPE: please. roxy gathered yoU all here for a reason.

CALLIOPE: at least listen Until the end.

CALLIOPE: after that yoU can argUe all you want.

ROXY: look everyone im not dumb ok even tho i act like it sometimes

ROXY: i know whats goin on here

ROXY: that were all drifting apart

ROXY: and i know thats just a normal part of growing up and making new families

ROXY: and i guess learning that some people have unbridgeable divides on political stuff

ROXY: i can accept that things arent gonna always be the same as when we first met

ROXY: specially with dirk gone

ROXY: damn...

ROXY: even though its been more than a year i still feel it like he died yesterday

ROXY: what callie said earlier about death being mysterious and full of love is true

ROXY: i dont know if i ever would have gotten up the courage to marry john if dirk hadnt died

ROXY: sometimes i think about what it would have been like if he was still here

ROXY: i think we can all agree that if dirk didnt kill himself there would be some big differences in the lives of people here in this room

ROXY: i cant say if theyd be good or bad

ROXY: maybe when it comes to this kind of thing... like

ROXY: infinite probability and multiple universes and shit

ROXY: good and bad dont matter

ROXY: theres no better or worse just different

ROXY: even with dead jade here whos to say that the world she came from was actually worse than ours?

ROXY: she probably died a heroic death doin something incredible

ROXY: we probably only have the great lives we do right now because of her sacrifice

ROXY: the universal odds of us all being alive and healthy and together like this are so infinitesimally low that its literally impossible for us to understand with our limited linear consciousness

ROXY: isnt that amazing??

ROXY: so even if this is the last time were all ever in the same room like this

ROXY: i think its just incredible we could be here in the first place

ROXY: out of a sempiternal number of possibilities we are the only incarnation of this exact specific moment in all of existence

ROXY: i think that we should all look around and be super grateful for what we

ROXY: wh... what we

ROXY: wh... wha...

ROXY: whoah fuck

CALLIOPE: roxy? are yoU okay?

ROXY: of course im not ok i just WENT INTO FREAKING LABOR

JOHN: oh my god!

JOHN: oh my god!

JOHN: it’s happening, oh my god!!

JOHN: ...

JOHN: oh my GOD!!!

ROXY: omg john are you just gonna keep shouting oh my god or are you GONNA HELP YOUR WIFEY OUT

JOHN: OH MY GOD!!!!!

JOHN: doing ok there, sweetheart?

ROXY: ugh whyd i let you put this thing inside me

JOHN: don’t worry roxy! we’ll get it out as soon as we can!

JOHN: er, by “it,” i mean our child.

JOHN: we probably shouldn’t be talking about him in dehumanizing terms before he’s even born, huh?

JOHN: seems like kind of a bad omen?

ROXY: omg.......... john SHUT UP

ROXY: i need like six gallons of demerol STAT

ROXY: lets GOOO

JOHN: right! going!

CALLIOPE: wait! i...

CALLIOPE: i woUld like to be there as well!

JOHN: hurry up then!

JADE: AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

JAKE: By jove!

DAVE: jesus fuck

CALLIOPE: jade! yoU...

CALLIOPE: yoU’re alive!

CALLIOPE: or, Um,

CALLIOPE: yoU’re not dead!

JADE: i am not jade.

CALLIOPE: then who...

CALLIOPE: who are yoU?

JADE: you know who i am, calliope.

JADE: we met once, years ago.

JADE: you were dead, and so was i.

KANAYA: This Certainly Is A Turn Of Events

ARADIA: ill say

ARADIA: at first i was underwhelmed with the proceedings i have to admit

ARADIA: but that was quite the twist

ARADIA: this may be one of the best death related celebrations ive ever seen :)

SOLLUX: t0p five at least.

JADE: you’re undoubtedly surprised.

JADE: but these events were not unpredictable at all.

JADE: this is exactly what i have been expecting to happen.

JADE: and while i cannot say the same thing for the rest of you,

JADE: i, at least, am exactly where i am meant to be.

JAKE: Hey uh.

JAKE: Not to come off as a total idiot here but...

JAKE: Who were you supposed to be again?

JADE: my name is calliope.

JADE: i am the muse of space.

JADE: and i have entered this body to protect your world.

[jev-urisk]

A Musing Monday 🎐

Today I am musing on too many things! 😵‍💫

My brain feels crowded by little rabbit holes and I keep catching myself fully lost in them to the point where im getting salty or spicy or sad over imaginary scenarios. Ive been having more nightmares than usual lately, too. So I guess what im going to muse on today is processing things (I'll leave musing on innovation and the way its weaponized against the working class ((one of the rabbit holes🐰))for another monday)

WHY am I circle-thinking about stuff like 'what would I do if I was stuck in the past?' 'why didnt the industrial revolution provide more ease and profit for every class' or 'how would I convince strong people to protect me if I was in an apocolypse situation?' 😣💫

Now take this with a grain of salt, I may have a psych degree but im not a researcher or anything (just a nerd with autism 🤓); my brain is using fictional scenarios to practice processing🎭🧮. It feels the need to practice because there's a LOT within my brain thats unprocessed right now (hello trauma, hello issues with finding a better job, hello feeling very vulnerable lately). 👋😩

Our brains are solving machines geared to find the answer🤖, and when that answer is not immidiatly available we may experience things like nighmares and intrusive thoughts and maladaptive daydreams to try to get an angle on The Thing thats not processed.🔬

Thinking about The Trauma directly often puts the body in a stress mode thats not condusive to creative problem solving📉. Like being stressed is literally counterproductive to solving bc we go into 🔥survival mode🔥where fight flight etc are The Options Available. Imagining yourself in a historical fiction situation is not a 1-1 ratio to 'what exactly happened when abuse appeared in MY past' and but ya know what, its close enough for our brains to bring it up as a substitute. 🤷

And the fact that our brains have this reaction to The Bad Thing is interesting in itself. 🤔 Why are some bad memories just things that happened, and some are so triggering your mind would rather process terrifying nightmares every night than just.. face The Memory? 🫠 Like it's over, it can't get you now, the past is dead, right?

The solution? Well obviously it looks a bit different for everyone, particularly depending on where you are on your path. 🧭 Like if you have nightmares/intrusive thoughts/maladaptive daydreaming and dont uh... dont have any trauma coming to mind that aint my place to tell you whats next 🤐. I can only really mind my own gourd here and MY next step is Accelarated Resolution Therapy🗃, which is often used with war veterans with ptsd, to store my truama memories in a better, less triggering way. 📈

Well it turns out that memories like to be filed away by our senses 📂. Like memories sit best and retrieve easier (lets take xmas as an example🎄) if you're remembering the smell of xmas dinner, the sound of wrapping paper, the bite of the cold outside and the taste of hot coco✨️. When memories store poorly, as they usually do with trauma 😔, your body is not just remembering- it is acting as if You Are Still There. 💥📍

Infact to prepare for ART, I have had to purposly bring up all my old memories 😬, which has in turn signalled my brain to circle around pseudo truama thoughts when I'm 'at rest' in attempt to solve whats not really 'solvable' and with that weve gone fuuull circle on my musings here lmao ➿️

I got two weeks until that all important therapy session and until then I figure my brain is gonna keep trying to hampsterwheel 🐹🎡, but perhaps my loop will inspire something within you, or help you out of a loop, or perhaps make you realize you’ve been in a silent loop for awhile now.. 🔄👁👁

In anycase, thank your brain for me! Particularly if its doing these things I described above. It's trying so hard to help and protect you 🧠🫶 My apologies for giving it something so tough to chew on this Monday lmao 😅 Stay safe out there 🫂

(I don't have a taglist for my Monday posts yet, hmu if you want to be tagged on these zanny adventures plz)

[feietouhuo]

SHIPPING INFO. Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.

What’s your OTP for your Muse(s)?

my OTPs are anything xianle trio / any iteration of them <3 that is all. i am biased. the more polys the better. i love geometry

What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?

i don't have any boundaries, i'm going to be honest with you LMAO any trope, scenario, dead dove or not. i do have NOTPs, but i can be persuaded if it's good enough or in character enough. i let things come as they come, that's all.

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?

fuck around and find out <3 but eh, i just don't like ships with toddler aged people i guess

Are you selective when shipping?

no. i don't tend to like a lot of the popular fanon ships, so it looks like i am. but i am Not

How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?

i consider them nsfw the second i have to describe a dick or pussy in any way, shape, or form ..... i am embarrassed easily ...

Who are other muses you ship your muse with?

ofc the love of my life's muses <33 @/lianlianbushe (feng xin) and @/woxingwosu (xie lian) we also got dia @/diivineray (xie lian and pei ming [one-sided LMAO]) who is also the love of my life. i have two hands, it is not cheating <3

Does one have to ask to ship with you?

not necessarily tbh LOL if it comes naturally, i'll honestly accept it. or if you see something suggestive for ask prompts, i will also roll with it. DM me, i'll send u eye emojis. i might say no cause i just have NOTPs but ???? you can change my mind i swear

How often do you like to ship?

i love shipping what is life FOR without shipping???? mmmmm romance

Are you multiship?

yes. i don't practice exclusivity when it comes to ships. life is definitely more fun the more you have, so :D

Are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?

definitely very ship obsessed LOOOOL i love watching two characters have a friendship that slowly develops into something more, with or without difficulties and .... i am soft . also for my ships specifically, being in love is so much more complicated than not, and i love complicated

What is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

mulian mulian mulian mulian mulian mulian muli —

Finally, how does one ship with you?

message meeeeeeeeeeeee (asks, DMs, or discord)

tagged. @heavnslayer tagging. @woxingwosu @diivineray

[astorythatwritesitself]

Rachel Ram

What if this does not belong to you

And all those things you thought were true

Turned out to just be someone else's lies?

I still have no idea how I'm actually formatting this project or anything, but fuck it, every bit of creating and musing on it helps, right? So - character board for the main character & POV of Vide - Rachel Ram, later known as Sidney Shepard.

The funny thing is, Sid doesn't consider Rachel as a deadname, not really. Rachel was... well. She was.

Rachel liked exploring the woods and studying bugs and watching stolen scary movies when she could play hooky from church or school. She spent way too much money on rigged games in the arcade, then way too much time digging through long-lost closets and crawlspaces when the place was shut down and abandoned. Rachel wrote shitty poetry and drew weird shit in journals she kept sandwiched between the mattress and boxspring, she loved Goosebumps and Scary Stories to Tell In The Dark, and was fascinated by folklore and mythology; the ideas of living gods or spirits lurking in the air, the grass, the rivers and seas.

Rachel was scared and lonely and so, so very brave, because she kept going, and kept dreaming of a future, even if she wasn't sure what form it would - could - take. She wanted to be a musician when she grew up, or maybe an actor or a comic artist, and have three (exactly) dogs.

Sid has done a lot of shitty, less than legal things in her life, and she's hoping to add 'vandalizing a grave' to that list one of these days - though, is it vandalizing, when it's your own? Either way - Rachel isn't dead, isn't gone - just grown up and changed, no different than the grubs and catterpillars she tried (and often - but not always - failed) to raise. A unique, distinct phase that deserves a hell of a lot better than being some empty casket.

(Thanks for the votes! :D Yeah the poll was 'I have a couple vague moodboard ideas but can't choose' lmao. I'll do the Deconstructing Gods one at another point - or put it to another poll depending on what else from the playlist might strike me!)

[chikoyama]

Shipping Info | Answer the following for your muses so people know how shipping works on your blog

What is your OTP for your character(s)?

Man, I don’t know. If Chiyori can get someone who cares as much about her as she cares about them, then I’m good. If she’s in a relationship where she’s wanted rather than needed, then that's absolute gold for me. ✨

Even in a soulmate au I made her soulmateless specifically for that purpose. Also, because I wanted Chiyori to discover that no one is more perfect for her than herself, but I'm not sure if she's insightful enough to realize that, lmao. Aaah, and the pain too. I also decided for her to be soulmateless because I don’t understand the concept of soulmates, lmfao. (Not anymore at least).

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?

To me personally, as long as both parties are in similar stages of physical matureness I won’t care too much, I think? It's fiction after all. Like, someone at the age of 50 with someone at the age 18, I don’t mind too much, because they’re both likely to be past puberty. Both would be in their fully-developed adult bodies. (These talks always remind me of Leonardo DiCaprio’s relationships, lmfao).

However, someone above age 16 with someone at the age of 10 is when I feel things would get kind of weird? Because it’s extremely likely that the 10-year-old hasn’t even hit puberty yet. Don’t bash me for it, but I’d love to witness a well-written dynamic like that. One would have to have the balls to publish something like that, and be a genius too for crafting a dynamic like that that works. Honestly, I think it could make sense in more of a coming-of-age story! Anything else would be creepy, but maybe I’m just too close-minded to be able to imagine otherwise.

How far do steamy moments have to go before they are considered NSFT?

When specific private body parts are mentioned.

Are you selective when shipping?

Uh, yeah.

Who are other characters you ship your character with?

I don't think it's so much if I personally ship it, more than it is about if Chiyori likes the other character. So far, she likes Lee's Suguru (@cvrseduser) (whilst still teenagers, but it's not reciprocated), and Val's Yuuta (@2xcursekissed).

Does one have to ask to ship with you?

Nah, you do you, babe. If it means something to you, don’t let me take that away from you. Be fierce, be mad, be unapologetic. If anything, I’d love to hear why it speaks to you personally!

Are you ship-obsessed or ship more-or-less?

So, the thing is I want to be ship-obsessed, but I’m not, which is sad for meeeee. I genuinely want to experience being in that sort of high, lmfao. Though, that's my problem to deal with, but maybe I just have to find the right partner(s). 🤔

Idk what ship more-or-less means?

What is your favourite ship in your current fandom?

Eeeeh… *thinks hard* Idk… I think every ship is cute per se. It sounds harsh, but these ships don’t mean anything to me personally, because I don't write canon characters, so it’s hard for me to be truly biased. Though, if I wrote cc x cc, maybe I'd fall as deeply into these rabbit holes as everyone else, lmao.

My philosophy on these matters are: As long as it makes you happy, and you let me do me, everything is good!

Finally, how does one ship with you?

Uh, just ask me to ship, I think? — Easier said than done, right? Be engaged, share your thoughts and ideas, send things that remind you of them. Of course, there needs to be a similar level of respect and admiration from both parties. Though, generally speaking I'm very cooperative and reciprocative.

The amount of times I've put more effort into projects (not just in terms of writing) than my partners is depressing. So, I've come to the conclusion that my energy is better spent elsewhere unless someone shows proper enthusiasm about it. I respect myself way too much to put myself through that. I refuse to be dragging a dead body through the mud.

Tagged by: @vartouhix (thanks for the tag, babe! 💕)

Tagging: @ak4rin, @opalchoi, @gyofukuki, @trelonkan, @nvictive

[toastyliltoasts]

"I promise"

A/N : Yall I miss the damn SMP so I wrote this .. It has a happy storyline dw dw ..

Warnings : Light swearing (It has 'ass' lmao and some *cough cough* other stuff) , Sort of panic attack but not really ?

Type : ANGST AND FLUFF MOTHERCLUCKERS LES GOOOOO

You try to adjust your baby blue coloured hoodie to 'almost' perfection using a mirror .. Today was the big day .. Your best friend Meme was getting married in less than 3 hours and you still couldnt figure out how to get your hair let alone clothes to look right ..

It was quite a ... fiesta when Meme announced his upcoming marriage to the lovely Wictoria (whom you've only heard of once or twice) .. Fiesta as in Socks refusing to believe Meme got engaged , Blaza and Tbh laughing their asses off and them almost getting sent to the ER just by the glares Meme was sending them (Because if looks could kill , They already dropped dead weeks ago) .. So it was quite obvious that everyone was underprepared for the wedding , Even the groom himself ..

Your job in the wedding being assisting with decorations , You had to get to the venue early and help the boys out with the chairs , the food (which you did not trust them with) and fixing the aisle but firstly you had to look like you could do all that .. After a few moments , You huffed a sigh of relief as you finally got your hair to a presentable sight and you took one last look in the mirror as you dashed off .. You're going to change before the wedding anyway , Might as well not ruin the good outfit ..

°•°•°•°•°

You flick a bead of sweat off your forehead as you looked around the venue , checking the mental checklist one by one ..

Chairs ? Check.

Aisle ? Check.

Flowers ? Check.

Food ? Ch- Well .. Half check ? .. You had to keep Muffin and Nadwe from turning the wedding into a war somehow ..

Your checklist gets interrupted by a sound of your own name and you crane your neck from your spot to see the one and only , Socksfor1 .. He's dressed in his usual spaceman outfit without the helmet ..

"Hey , You're early" You muse while dusting your hands on your already messy jean sleeves ..

"Eh you dont see Meme getting married to a cow everyday" He smirks as you both hug ..

"That for sure .. Meme said she's lovely though" You offer after you both break apart ..

"Yeah yeah .. Is that her ? Wictoria I mean .." Socks asks (after almost calling Meme a woman) , Tipping his head towards the wedding altar ..

"Uh I think so ? I havent been able to talk with her yet except for a few 'Hi's .. You're the one that invited her right ?" You question while your eyebrow travels to your hairline ..

Socks just shrugs while changing the subject ..

"Not to be a killjoy but are you wearing a hoodie and jeans to the wedding ?" He asks with a snicker ..

You immediately acknowledge your current outfit and nudge him in the ribs as payback when he laughs ..

"Of course not , You dumbass .. Says the person who wears an astronaut costume to the wedding and would you rather me wearing some fancy shit but drenched in sweat " You say , playfully rolling your eyes ..

"Ow .. No need to be so mean" He whines with a pout , slightly rubbing the area of impact on his ribs ..

"Yeah yeah you big baby .. I'll go change anyway .." You say while he replies with a 'be back soon please , I'll be bored if my favorite 'dumbass' is gone' to which you stick your tongue out at him ..

It doesnt take you long to change into your outfit , pat down the creases and fix your hair for the second time today .. Planning weddings were hard but as said before , You dont get to see Meme get married to a cow everyday ..

Socks smiles as you leave the changing room and sees your attire .. He'll be lying if he said you didnt look absolutely amazing .. He compliments you when you dramatically twirl to show off and asks you to come with him to get the guests .. You both run around , 'goofing around' being the correct terminology (I mean you worked hard , It was just a small reward) , until Socks sees Oompa and playfully calls him out for not being ready for the wedding while you act mock-offended ..

"Is that even legal" Oompa asks as you three wonder whether its okay to marry a cow ..

"I dont think this is legal" Socks replies with a light laugh .. You , Socks and Oompa share a look of nervousness until you hear Blaza ..

"Heeey Blaza .. Looking good , Looking good" You say as you greet him with a hug ..

"Could say the same to you , brudda" He replies as he ruffles your hair ..

"OH COME ON MAN .. I just fixed this" You cry out as you shield your hair from his wrath while he had the audacity to chuckle ..

"Blaza with the DRIP ?" Socks greets while bumping fists with Blaza ..

"Yeaaah .. Im looking kinda fly for this wedding , Y'know ?" Blaza says confidently while Socks starts to vent to Blaza about Oompa not being prepared at all ..

The wedding venue slowly started buzzing with people over the next hour as you and Socks greeted more guests .. You saw Muffin (With a weapon , might I add) looking at Socks with soulless eyes as Socks , Blaza and Oompa freaked out at being threatened with Muffin's 'weapon' .. You greeted both Muffin and Tbh with a hug (Eh Muffin's not bad at all .. Just has a questionable mentality but dont we all ?) and see Tbh doing some sorta crab dance with Socks and Blaza but just shrug it off ..

And you finally see the groom himself , Wearing a wedding dress .. You and Socks have a laughing fit , almost toppling over the carpet of the aisle itself .. But manage to keep it together long enough to greet Wolfster (Who confessed that he was just in it for the cake) .. And when Meme along with Laff start coming up the aisle , Socks definitely did not shake with silent laughter ..

"Memeee" You drag the last 'e' as you run over to hug him ..

"(Y/NNN)" He mirrors your actions and envelopes you in a hug ..

"You should've told me atleast a month before , You idiot .. I would've made it more presentable" You say flicking him on the forehead ..

"OW .. Im sorry IM SORRY .. That hurt like shit-" He cuts himself off mid-sentence seeing your glare ..

"You should be .. Anyways , Im happy for you" You grumble out reluctantly ..

"Thanks man" Meme says genuinely while patting your shoulder .. And soon you can visibly see the adrenaline start to set in in Meme ..

"Im actually getting married" He says while doing some dance that manage to crack both you and Socks up and also gets Laff to have an inner conflict with himself ..

"Im so happy for you Meme" Socks congratulates while doing a cursed dance himself .. Then Socks proceeds to 'compliment' Meme on how his dress matched his , soulless , eyes ..

Then before the actual wedding begins , Socks nervously realizes (and confesses) that he has infact invited not Wictoria but Bella , her sister .. And shamelessly murders her while you and all the others half-scream (Apparently , It 'had to be done') ..

And Nadwe coincidentally brings the real Wictoria and the wedding finally begins ..

Laff , as the priest , reads them the vows and Meme respectfully replies with an 'I do' to each rite (Even Wictoria responds... Verbally ? Even though Socks claims it could be a no) And halfway through the ceremony Nadwe interrupts the exchange of vows because he has to go to the 'bathroom' while in reality he goes behind a tree and proceeds to play vine boom sounds ..

And they move on from that incident as the time finally comes for the wedded couple to kiss .. Everyone cheers and hoots but your stomach churns .. You're happy for them , Really .. You know you are but something is just off .. Your eyebrows furrow together and your gut just screams at you when Meme nears Wictoria with passion some people only feel once in a lifetime .. Unbeknownst to you , You legs take you to the altar and push both Wictoria and Meme ..

It feels like time is messed up as you hear a sound of something loud followed by your friends' screams .. You feel the impact like bricks to your torso as you hit the ground , hard .. Your lungs feel like someone ran over them with a car .. You can still hear your friends screaming but its all oh-so distant .. All you wanted to do now was sleep for a bit .. I mean , Haven't you earned it ?

Your plans come out as foiled when you feel your arms and shoulder shaking .. Huh ? Definitely not doing that .. You try to focus on nothing but universe was just not having it .. It takes a long while for you to realise that you are being shaken .. Why cant people just leave you alone ?

You can feel your throbbing head being pulled towards something and your arms flailing around something ? Someone ? .. Damn , That must've been one hell of a fall .. Did you hit your head or something ? You must've .. That explains your head feeling like someone just performed surgery on you (Might be Meme , Who knows ?) ..

You lightly hear the far-off voice of the person dearest to you .. Socks ? What the hell was he doing ? Even when you're almost-dead (You guessed you were) he cant leave you alone ? Just why man .. You decide to try to open your eyes to savour him for his attempts atleast one last time ..

You see Socks' usual goofy , happy demeanor overshadowed by one of greif and concern .. You wish for the ringing in your ear to just scram so that you can hear what Socks is oh-so desperately trying to say .. Years of close friendship lead you to believe Socks is trying to tell you to get your shit together and focus (Atleast the latter part) ..

Warning : Small panic attack

You try to do just that and you can hear him trying to tell you to.... Breath ? But you're already breathing ..

You mentally roll your eyes and do so just so you could tell him to shut up .. Surprisingly , The pain in your lungs lessen and lessen the more you breath .. And , accordingly , You see a bit of relief etching on to Socks' face ..

Scene over

"God you scared the shit out of me" Socks whispers dejected ..

"That easy?" You croak out , a broken sentence to cheer him up , to which he offers a half-hearted smile ..

Then after some time you see Meme running over to you with a bit of gauze and some sort of bottle .. His face mirroring one of Socks' own , As if worry was permanently drawn on to his face .. Yet his hands are steady and swift as he cleans your.. head ? You mustve actually hit it or shit .. Well that explai- FUCK THAT HURTS

"FUC-"

Your train of thought gets interrupted as Meme pours the liquid in the bottle onto an area on your head .. Your arms scramble around and not-so graciously holds on to Socks' hand as you grit your teeth after not-so graciously swearing .. Next time a warning would be nice , Yeah ?

After what seemed like decades , Meme wraps your wound with gauze and gives you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder .. You weakly smile to lighten up the mood , making a mental note to not mock Meme's medical degree for atleast a month ..

"You should get some sleep" Socks offers ..

"Mm" You agree while your eyelids already droop ..

After that torture you definitely wanted to sleep so you slowly slip in to slumber , praying to everything to let you have this ..

°•°•°•°•°

You open your eyes to blinding light and immediately regret your actions .. You try to slowly creek open your eyes to minimise the impact and succeed .. You look around to see that you're in some place totally different , Your house ?

You recognize the familiar surroundings .. Bed , desk and windows- These are your ones .. Yet you take one more look around to confirm and see a tired Socks hunched over the bed , with his head on the said furniture , sleeping soundly while gripping on to your hand as if its his lifeline ..

You smiled to yourself as you carefully detached your hand from his , reached over your hand and ran it through his soft curls .. The spaceman awoke with a groan while rubbing his eyes as you retreat your hand to yourself .. Recognition flashed in his tired eyes as he scrambled to straighten up , all sleep gone from him ..

"(Y/N) ?" Socks asks disbelievingly ..

"Sup .. What'd I mi-" You croak out only to get cut off by a bear hug from the man himself ..

"My god I thought you were- dead" He forces out ..

"Me too ? The hell ha-" You start ..

"You fucking jumped on to that altar and hit your head on the steps like the dumbass you are .. Thats what happened" Socks said angrily as if he read your mind .. You let out a condescending sigh ..

"Im sorry .. I just-.. had a bad feeling and didnt know what else to do" You replied in a soft voice , hanging your head on your shoulder ..

"You shouldnt put yourself in last place .. Your life matters as well" Socks whispers , on a different approach which just did more to piss you off other than to see him so worried ..

"What else was I supposed to do ?" You ask quietly , anger slightly showing through ..

"Anything .. Anything else .. You could've atleast told me .. Did you even think of what would've happened if you got hurt ? What would you do then , Huh ?  What the hell am I supposed to do if something bad happens to you ?" Socks frustratingly runs his hand through his messy brunette hair as he shouts the last part which betrays the raw emotion like hurt and worry in his voice .. You place your hand on his hand , The one that isnt messing with his hair right now , and try to calm him down ..

"Im really sorry .. I didnt think that through .. Its dumb , I know" You say while settling on a hug to calm Socks down .. He hugs back immediately and buries his face in your shoulder ..

"Please dont do that shit again" He asks you so quietly that you barely pick it up ..

"I promise"

°•°•°•°•°

YOOOOOOO

2609 words duuuuuudes (Btw 609 *Insert troll face*)

Update : Sadly it is 2662 words :'c

Update : GUESS WHAT ? ITS 2669 >:DDD

Les gooooooo

Im officially a certified writer /j lmao

Anyway , Hope you enjoyed

[ozonelasher]

GET TO KNOW YOUR ADMIN !!

(i don't actually have a mun fc so you're getting shiny azumarill because. i like it :3)

name — Ana!

pronouns — she/her primarily but they/them is fine too

preferred comms — tumblr IMs are preferred for OOC talk/plotting, & my discord is open to mutuals if they'd like :3

name of muse — Kaki

experience in RP — honestly i've been rping since i was probably too young to rp on the internet 💀 i started on deviantart (which like. oops but also i was like 9) and then started rping on tumblr likeee ~2015 or so. i actually first started writing Kaki on tumblr in like 2016, and then kinda started writing on twitter in 2019 when the RPC on here started to wane from its peak. i came back very recently because i got tired of the limitations of writing on twitter

best experiences — as of recent, i've had a few really really fun crossover threads on twitter that will stay with me forever atp. one was a real slowburn romance plot with a spike spiegel, and another was of isekai plot with desmond miles from assassin's creed that ended up being really fun and sweet. i also have a really cute ship going with a friend's DB OC on twitter, too. oh kaki and her tendency to adopt men two heads taller than her ❤️

pet peeves/dealbreakers — trying to force OOC scenarios/behaviors onto kaki or otherwise just making it clear you don't respect her character outside of writing will really sour me in terms of trying for future interactions. i doubt this will happen here as it's mostly a problem i've had on twitter but JUST IN CASE!!! i'm mostly talking stuff like, oversexualizing her because she has muscles ("step on me, m*mmy" & such comments are a HUGE no-no), assuming she's overly aggressive/belligerent, or on the flip-side, babying her like she's a cutesy helpless waif. she is a 30+ year old woman with thoughts and feelings and i would like her autonomy to be respected.

muse preference ( fluff, angst, smut ) — HONESTLY i'm down with anything as long as it's interesting. on my own i tend to write adventure-drama type plots (the dbz fic i'm working on is just a space opera tbh) with a splash of horror of some flavor, usually with anti-capitalist/fascist/imperialist messaging. i think the one thing i should mention is that i do really enjoy when there's a conflict or overarching storyline happening in longer plotted threads; it just keeps me more engaged.

plot or memes — both are good and work tbh. memes can be good for breaking the ice or actually figuring out a dynamic in practice, but if we want to go for something more in-depth, i do prefer some plotting (even if it's just planning points A and B and then just improvising how our muses get there)

long or short replies — quality > quantity. even if your response is like 3 sentences or less, if it moves things along, it's fine with me (:

best time to write — i tend to write more at night or on the weekends. really just when i'm not dead tired 😭but also if i really get into the plot of a thread, i'll get kinda hyperfixated on it and respond in like 3 seconds. my fault

are you like your muse? — In a lot of ways, yeah. Kaki is an OC i've been developing for like at least a decade now, and a lot of her experiences are drawn from things I personally have experienced (albeit, greatly exaggerated lmao), and the kind of character she's become is a projection of my beliefs and how I feel about the current state of the world. Writing her is a bit of a catharsis for me, really.

TAGGED — @pzfr

TAGGING — feel free to do it if you'd like :3

[take-ya-to-the-ghey-bar]

@s1lxcs replied: //i never have that itch lol single blogs not a thing for me since all those years ago & imagine having single blogs for TONS of muses. by tons, i mean TONS LOL, stressful & they all be dead. but hey, you got your itch out at least-

i mean, that's fair lol-- considering that having a single blog with a bunch of muses can be convenient in a lot of a ways (even if it does also have the struggle of when certain muses hibernate and such fff--) but for what it's worth, at least on my end of things-- i think i mainly favor having mostly solo blogs because i enjoy being able to do the theming… and having it feel special for that muse in particular-- rather than having to try and work them into some sort of group theme (even if i have done that with a blog currently, and plan to possibly do it again in the future with another one--)

plus, i feel it's usually a lot less stressful to have things kind of… compartmentalized-- since then if i'm not vibing with a certain muse at the time, and they happen to be on a solo blog, then i can just log off that blog and not have to think about their stuff until i'm feeling it again-- (that said tho, i will admit that juggling blogs can be a slight headache when i'm vibing with more than a couple places at once lmao--)