#(without actually having any idea on how to obtain said things)

[fuitygummy]

recently got back into neopets after 10+ years and the neopets brainrot has firmly settled

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 20

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI), smut!, Soldier Boy having ejaculation problem, language, disagreements

Word Count: 6343

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

You kept Ben and others in the dark about the fact that you weren't healing like a supe as the days went by in peace and quiet. You weren't sure why precisely, but you decided that it would be best to wait to discuss the situation in detail with the doctor or learn what had happened from Mindstorm.

Except for the moments you were with Ben, you'd always wished you weren't a supe and could simply live like a regular person in the past. When you two were together, you were cool with being a Supe. You handled his strength whenever he touched you, battled by his side when he needed you, and didn't really care what you were as long as you didn't age like him.

But inevitably things were different. You have to remain a supe in order to defend yourself from everything and everyone. You were aware of it. That's what you wanted. If you weren't a super, you really didn't know how to live a normal life. You couldn't even recall the last time you experienced physical weakness. Neither were you accustomed to seeing bruises on your skin. You sighed with annoyance as your thoughts raced at the possibility of you stopping becoming a Supe at any moment. What happens if your body suddenly loses all of its strength? Even though you still had your powers, you still needed to exercise caution.

In fact, you weren't sure whether that was simply an excuse about that you needed to be a supe. Perhaps all you wanted was to stay alive. You had no idea what your own heart was actually craving. You didn't want to find out, though. 

Butcher had informed Ben and you earlier in the morning that he had located the doctor in charge of Supe Studies for Vought. Ben had given you a strange look, as if he had sensed something, since your heart was beating so quickly. You needed to be prepared for whatever was ahead. It was something you had to embrace. 

“Tonight, we're going to the doctor. It is not very helpful that he is residing at Vought Tower. Although he is well protected, we can still cope with it while we have the strongest supes, right?” With a cunning grin, Butcher said, emphasizing the phrase ‘most powerful’ as though he intended to hurt you. 

You remained silent. You could still tear him in two without even trying your hardest. Of course you wouldn't. Butcher and how to beat him till he bled were among the numerous improper thoughts that sprung from your wounded pride. Ben would undoubtedly die from intense pleasure if he could see your thoughts. 

“Homelander will be there,” you said, tracing your fingers over the table and the page you were doodling on in front of you. Ben was deep in thought as he sat next to you, examining the bizarre things you were sketching randomly. 

“Yeah,” Butcher said unsurely. “Unless his attention is drawn on something different.”

Cutting off Butcher's ambiguous remarks, “What do you mean?” Ben asked. It was evident that he was impatient. 

You knew Butcher was ready to come up with something risky since he was staring at both of you and Ben. His expressions were now easily interpreted. 

“If you use your nuclear chest and explode somewhere, he will come to you. Since everyone will be concentrating on you, Annie and Y/N will be able to sneak into the cave, speak with the doctor, and also obtain more Temp-V.”

“You seem that you thought about this too much,” Ben interrupted; his tone remained cautious, and he showed little interest in Butcher's bold proposal. It was sufficient, in your opinion, nevertheless. 

Ben and you both gave Butcher a startled look. You were now curious about his real intentions. Ben's tensing up was palpable as soon as he learned about the member of the team who had betrayed him. It was impossible to ignore the heat radiating from Ben's chest. You watched him abruptly get up and go toward Butcher in a way that was almost menacing, but you did nothing to soothe him. 

With perplexity, you glanced at Ben. It was risky for the two of you, but you had agreed to take the chance and trust that Butcher would be able to divert Homelander's focus. You had to know the truth. You got frustrated with Ben's attitude now, remembering how he promised you weeks earlier. You could always count on him to let you down. What's happened is that it stopped being surprising.

“How about if I say that I found Mindstorm?”

Ben questioned, “When?” 

“Why do you care? But he's concealing rather well, I have to admit. He must be scared as fuck since you appeared,” Butcher said, but Ben did not care about this fact. All people who betrayed him better be scared. 

Ben said, “Fine,” in a controlled tone that surprised you and Butcher alike. You weren't prepared for him to give up so quickly. “Y/N is not going to Vought Tower, which means I'm not going to blow up anywhere." She will accompany me to Mindstorm. We don't need the doctor.”

“What?” you said, puzzled. He would never gladly embrace Butcher's idea, of course. Watching Ben was determined to go after his own plan, not giving a damn about your thoughts nor contemplating, you shot him a furious glare. “You are not in a position to determine this. It's all about me.”

“I know,” Ben strongly stated. He turned to face you and froze for a second when he noticed how you were staring at him. “But it's too risky for you. This is not what we're doing. Discussion is over.”

You firmly responded, “No,” and furiously dropped the pencil on the table. “We are exactly doing this.”

Butcher sighed with irritation as he observed that you and Ben were prepared for another argument, and he considered his next move. “How about me and Y/N go after Mindstorm and Soldier Boy meeting the doctor himself?” he finally suggested. 

Neither Ben nor you said anything, but Butcher's suggestion didn't seem right. Ben was clearly considering his options attentively while you watched him. You couldn't tell what his real intentions were or whether he truly intended to keep his word. You were discouraged.

Ben firmly stated, “She's not going to Vought Tower without me.” He was determined not to do anything Butcher asked of him and willing to listen to you neither.

“If you think you can kill Homelander and the others there in a very short moment, why not?” Butcher provoked him.

You stated serenely, hoping Ben would understand. “If something goes wrong, I'll be blamed by the public and Vought once more.” You thought he would understand that you were not interested in joining him in his war. All you needed were answers. “You're not going to come with me, and you'll bring Mindstorm. You said you would help me, Ben.”

Ben stared at you for a long time, confused by your cool, composed statements. You knew it was difficult for him to accept the obvious, yet you wanted him to think carefully and not ruin this. 

When he turned back to face you, you were startled watching him think about every possibility. After all, he didn't enjoy following instructions since, in his mind, he was a strong, alpha leader. He was clearly making an effort to maintain his composure in the face of your provocative tone, and you have to agree, it was entertaining to see him struggle.

Ben didn't want to give in and accept Butcher's foolish and dangerous idea, but he was becoming powerless as he saw you almost beg him with your eyes to keep his word. Ben had no idea as to why you would be willing to pay a visit to Vought Tower without taking into account the events that had occurred decades prior. It seems like yesterday when you were deceived and put in a box. Given your physical conditions lately, he might sense your anxiety even at that distance. He would never let someone hurt you ever again. No fucking way. 

Ben added, “And you know I'll keep my promise,” not wanting to say anything more or let you go there by yourself. “But not in that way.”

You sat in your chair and waited for Ben as he approached you. It took you a whole minute to blink before he walked your side. Ben's desire to touch you was overwhelming him, driving him insane and causing him to think filthy stuff, but all he managed to do was touch your chin to get your attention. “Together, we will go to Vought Tower. We can catch Mindstorm another day.”

“I think he's always on the move.” Ben's hands slipped to your chair and caressed your hair from the back when Butcher interrupted. You found it amusing that he had been playing with your hair when his voice abruptly became harsh. Ben had a strange way of being both gentle and tough at the same time.

“How do I know that you're not trying to separate us or trick her?” Ben exclaimed. His explanation of the situation was significantly different from yours. You wouldn't deny that you were grateful that he was careful for you this time and didn't trust Butcher or anyone else.

Ben continued, “I would kill you,” even before Butcher spoke a word. You could tell he despised everything because of the way he spat out the words. You knew that he would murder Butcher. 

Your heart flooded with relief, and you forced yourself to keep yourself from soothing him—his body temperature was changing minute by minute—in an attempt to provide him some peace. It was another problem that needed to be resolved quickly. You made a self-promise to support Ben in this matter as well, not knowing if he would suddenly explode again. Of course, it was after you discovered the truth about yourself. 

“Look, I'm offering you an opportunity to talk to Mindstorm and her to see the doctor, but you are accusing me of something I never ever considered once. Aren't you an ungrateful baby boy?” Butcher remarked, making Ben even more tense.

“Yet,” Ben went on. “I won't allow her to go to the Tower. Fuck Mindstorm. If he attempts to flee again, you'll locate him.”

You firmly said, “Stop it, Ben,” as you stood up and moved away from his gaze. He didn't say anything about that. He needed to keep the promise that he had made. This was something he owed you. You took a long look around the room and considered all of the options and risks. “I'll go to Vought Tower with Annie and Kimiko, and you'll blow somewhere up and then bring Mindstorm.”

“Don't give me orders, sweetie,” he eventually muttered. His look had somewhat changed, and he made an effort to seem as gentle as possible, but it was obvious he was struggling to hold his shit together. Good. “We'll do it in my way.” 

You sighed, “Your ways hurt me enough,” interrupting him before he could say anything more. You had to find a way to stop him arguing, not because you wanted to bring up past events while you were discussing the plan. 

Ben stiffened at what you said, unsure of how to protest anymore, even though he knew that was what you wanted and that it would be difficult to change your mind given how anxious you were about learning the truth about your condition. Even though Ben didn't want to do it at all, he did his best to remain composed and gave you a nod before you left without saying anything more and went upstairs, leaving him alone there with Butcher. 

Butcher was filled with joy as he watched Ben battle to avoid exploding the whole house. His jaw clenched while his heart filled with regret and watched you leave the room without even looking back. You possessed a unique kind of power over him, which he didn't even complain about anymore.

“She knows how to shut your mouth, huh?” Butcher made a quick remark to irritate Ben even more. It would be preferable to toy with Soldier Boy's fury going forward if the idea wouldn't make him blow up anytime and get him killed. 

“Your blowjob-addicted mouth is going to be your undone one day,” Ben said. He waited and pondered you and everything for a while after taking a sip from the half-filled bottle of wine. If something went wrong, he would murder anyone. He wouldn't blink.

“Okay,” Butcher said, not wanting to die today at the very least. “I'm going to pick Kimiko and Frenchie up. You two be prepared in thirty minutes.” 

You were almost finished putting on your supe suit when Ben pushed open the door and entered. When you sensed Ben's pulse pounding with passion and excitement, you couldn't help but feel the same way.

Ben pushed the door open and entered just as you were about to finish donning your super suit. His lips parted with astonishment as his lips curled with a smile. You were tempted to do the same as you sensed Ben's pulse pounding with passion and excitement. It had been so long since you put on your suit that you could not even recall when you did so. With all the iron on your breast and the small iron details on your skirt, you looked like a warrior, and so you'd never really liked it.

Even though you didn't feel like a danger on the inside, you chose to wear your suit to show that you were one, even though it would have been ideal if you had simply worn your regular everyday clothing.

Ben's amazed gaze made you take a long breath, and you glanced at him for a moment before realizing it had been a while since he had put on his own suit as well. You were too preoccupied with living your life like any other human being, devoid of conflicts or battles for reasons.

Ben said, “I didn't think you'd put on your suit ever again,” before shutting the door. You were relieved that this time he had not given you a speech about your opened door.

You answered, honestly, “Me neither.”

“Why?” Ben queried. “I thought you didn't want to be seen as a threat. You don't want to deal with Vought ever again, right?”

Glancing down at your naked legs and the cleavage-revealing breasts, he thought you looked like a goddess. He's always thought highly of you, but right now he was also becoming aroused at every step you took and every breath you took, wanting to touch you and pull you onto the bed behind you. His hardened cock was already straining and pleading to be freed from his pants, but all he could manage was to come nearer to you. His heart beat with passion, recalling how you let him cum within you days before. It wasn't a proper sex, but it felt better than any other sex.

You answered, “Yeah,” and Ben moved forward to stand in front of you. You didn't notice Ben avoiding contact with you for so long when you were in your suit and alone in a room with him; therefore, your body was betraying you with expectations and intense need.

“But I want them to know that they will pay for what they have done to me,” you softly said. “I want them to know that I am a threat to them if so.” Your own voice had taken you by surprise. When you did speak, it was quite quietly, but you were very serious. This was something Ben knew.

You just wanted to live in peace and quiet moving forward; no plans to exact revenge or anything like that. But there was no way you could be alright with it if they'd done you anything unforgivable.

Ben's lips curled up proudly and gladly at your reply. He was almost enjoying this small war because he was prepared to murder anyone who betrayed him, placed him in a fucking box, and indicated to destroy him. He was prepared to tear down Vought in every way. But the thing that most thrilled him was that you were prepared to do this with him as well, just like in the old days, as if you were still in a relationship. To Ben, it never altered.

Ben realized, as he glanced at your suit, how fond he was of the way you looked. Whatever was going on with you didn't matter now; you looked just as strong as him.

“And they will pay for it, I promise.” Ben said, “But I still don't want you to go there alone,” he added before you could say anything more. You were conscious of the risks. “If you are exposed to that damned gas again...” Ben went on and then inhaled deeply. Your body stiffened at the mention of the gas; you would never forget or be able to forgive all the torment you had to endure.

You said, “Would you save me again?” That was a surprising thing to ask, but you had to know. “If something goes wrong.”

Ben said straight away, “Of course I would,” in an authoritative and clear manner. “I'd blow up the entire fucking tower up on their dead bodies in a second.”

You eagerly questioned, “Do you swear?” not knowing if you would believe him or not, but wanted to hear it from him none the less.

“I fucking swear,” said Ben. His fingers were now hovering near your thigh. It was difficult for you to ignore his pooking hardness, but you tried, at least though your pussy had other ideas. You couldn't even identify the precise moment when the two of you grew close.

It was difficult to keep your hands apart as you let him touch your back and run his gloved fingers over your outfit. Because of the extreme stress, your body began craving things that it hadn't desired months before. There was simply too much tension that needed to be eased.

“Do you regret it?” Ben asked abruptly, leaving you perplexed.

“From wha-”you murmured, but you knew what he meant by the way he stared at you. “I never do anything that I might later regret, Ben. I mean, generally.”

Following the events in the automobile a few days prior, you had never spoken. In actuality, you were relieved that Ben never brought up the subject of your sexual interaction with him. He seemed to be understanding or patient, you could tell. In your own ways, you were both experiencing internal conflicts. You still didn't understand why, one night, he came in much too much and didn't become erect when you touched him. Your life is full of many issues that needed to be resolved at first.

He said, “Understandable,” in a calm voice. “All I have to tell you is that I will always be wanting you. You never think otherwise.”

You were briefly left speechless by it. He didn't wait for a response, and you had nothing to say.

Ben's lips drew closer to yours, his hands tighter around your abdomen as he gauged your response. Your hands grabbed his neck and drew him closer as his lips captured yours with lust and need. Your heart was racing as his gloved hands pressed your body onto his firm cock. With your tongues meeting as though you had been waiting for this moment for a very long time, you parted your lips to let him in.

Like his body, yours required release and some level of relaxation. It was just too stressful. For you both.

You moved yourself closer to Ben as he continued his desperate kisses, pushing him to go all the way and take control. As soon as he got the message, he quickly had you lie on the bed behind you while lifting your body up and continuing the kiss. Your legs were completely visible to him since the skirt of your suit was already too short.

After giving you a few gentle bites, Ben eventually pulled back to savor the moment. His hands gripped your ass cheeks and gave them a firm squeeze, causing you to moan with bliss.

He used to treat you really harshly because he knew you wouldn't break or whatever, but today, even though he wasn't holding back on his strength, he seemed strangely gentler. You got used to his aggressive and rough demeanor, so you were irritated to see him acting a little more cautiously now and wondered if it was only because you were not as strong as you had been.

You tried to express your wish for him to be rougher with you by tightening your legs around his hips and giving him more forceful kisses in return, even if you didn't say so.

Ben was growling and pressing his hardness between your legs; his hands were gripping your underwear beneath your skirt, lowering it already, which was proof of his impatience.

When your clothing prevented him from reaching your tits, he tried to give them a firm squeeze without breaking the iron chest plate on them, and he made a dissatisfied moan. It was evident that he was struggling not to rip it off. He knew you enjoyed a lot when he played with your tits, but you didn't have much time to take it off.

You took a deep breath as Ben kissed every inch of your body where his lips could reach. You wanted to do it and get rid of all the worry and negative ideas in your body, even if you weren't entirely sure if it was the right thing to do at that particular time. For a little period, you wished to clear your mind. Ben must have had the same thought.

He indicated to you that he intended to suck you there before entering you by lowering your panties and then moving down lower on your body. But you stopped him.

You exclaimed, “No time for this,” and grabbed onto him with quivering hands in order to stop him.

He grumbled, “We have eno-“ and then attempted to convince you. Once more, you stopped him.

You snapped, “No,” and put your fingers on his trousers, beginning to unzip him.

“Impatient?” Ben murmured as he saw that you were eager about freeing his hard cock while you worked nervously on his pants.

His lips once again captured yours, preventing you from speaking, and he helped you. Ben made another move to remove his chest plate so he could be more comfortable and intimate with you as he lowered his pants just enough to free his cock. But you stopped him once more. After all, that wasn't necessary.

It wasn't that throughout previous sexual interactions, you were always naked. On the contrary, Ben rarely ever takes off his suit when he takes you since you always want to avoid getting caught. He was usually tough and quick in these situations.

You gasped when he took off his erection and felt its weight on your clit. Knowing what was coming up next had both of your hearts pounding like crazy.

With little time, you had to move quickly. You lifted your hips to indicate to Ben that you were ready, but he only gave you a short glance before giving you a gentler kiss that you weren't particularly fond of at the moment.

He began stroking his cock, stopped kissing you, and tried to swallow his own groans. Touching the star sign on his suit with your shaky hands, you placed them on his back while you waited under him. Ben checked your facial expressions very carefully to make sure you were completely okay with this, and he saw no hesitancy, which gave him a sense of ease. You simply waited under him, eager and needy.

“Ready?” he muttered. He parted your legs a little wider and pressed your body against the bed a little further. He did not take off your panties, even if they were a little of an obstacle. He was quite okay with taking you like this while you were still wearing it.

You merely nodded to him and said, “Yes.” It seemed like you were already leaking there. Already, you were clutching your walls like a cat in heat.

Ben stroked himself once more and muttered, “Look at me,” pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance. That's when you realized that you were holding your breath.

It felt as though you two were going to experience your first-ever sex, like you were two virgins. Wondering whether Ben thought the same thing.

With eagerness, your lips parted as you obeyed. Your hands traveled to his large arms and biceps, wanting to feel a little flesh too. You were shamefully wetter knowing that you could still bear his strength at the highest level, and the sensation of his strength beneath you was making you feel even more excited.

You nailed his arms through the cloth and couldn't contain your groan as he shoved the tip of his cock within you. Ben's tightened jaw showed that he was trying to contain himself from making a loud sound.

Ben could not help but breathe heavily this time as he continued to press in your tight hole, feeling as though you were dripping there.Your shaking legs weren't helping either.

Ben groaned and said, “Relax a little, baby,” but you were unable to stop clenching around his big cock and lost control over your pussy. You could feel his lips on yours.

You groaned, trying not to clench around him. “I'm trying.”

Ben could not wait any longer and, unable to contain himself, shoved his cock inside of you with one single push that you both moaned in your mouths. His mouth found your neck and began to give it bites there.

This time, stunned by your tightness, he couldn't help but groan when he pushed his all. Ben wasn't sure if he could control himself because of how tightly you clutched him. After all, he hadn't properly fucked you in the past fucking forty years.

Sighing into your neck, “Fuck, I missed your tightness; I missed this so fucking much,” he waited inside of you to feel every part of you and enjoy the moment. But you were moaning underneath him to continue. You needed that release so much it was killing you.

“Don't stop,” you said, impatient for him to get moving. Your heart was on the verge of bursting.

Ben's hands tightened around your hips, his head buried in your neck. Just the way you wanted, he drew his cock back and gave it a really hard shove inside again. He groaned, and you moaned loudly at that action. You were so desperate to feel some flesh that you lowered the cloth around his neck and gave him the same hard bites and licks that caused you to tremble in ecstasy as your hands stroked his arms and shoulders through the fabric.

Ben waited, feeling your wonderful, soaked tightness around him. It was difficult to resist shoving his cock quickly and roughly inside of you. He wanted to relish this moment, look into your face, and observe every expression you made to remind himself how much he missed you in every way—after all, it had been decades. But he'd do everything you asked, and you were being desperate. Nor did you have any fucking time.

Ben repeatedly thrust his cock in you with strong motions as you pushed him to act quicker. His hands squeezed hard on your hips, listening to your little groans and watching as you bit your lips in joy. He started to fuck you harder and quicker.

It was not an excellent sign when he felt himself coming closer because of the incredible and tight way you clasped around him.

“Ben!” you cried out, sensing that you were almost there. Your hands were trembling with pleasure and excitement as they rested on his shoulders. All you needed was a little bit more. All you needed was for him to give you a few more hard strokes while fucking you.

Ben forced himself not to come first until he made sure you came first as he fucked you hard and deep, causing the bed to shake beneath you. He could feel you tighten around him. It was fortunate that he could hear you become more loud since no one else was in the home.

Yet it wasn't helping at all. The little sounds you were making, the way you held him close, and the way your cheeks flushed with pleasure... He was getting too close.

Ben was doing his hardest not to cry out, but he was unable to control himself when you begged him, “Ben, please,” like a whimper, and your fingers tugged his hair a little too hard.

Your eyes opened wide in shock as he gave you one last stroke, and he thrust all of his length into your pussy, filling you up with his thick white ropes between swearing and a loud growl. You waited for him to empty his balls in your pussy as your hands loosened over his biceps.

He was filling you before he had even completed ten strokes. The way his body was shaking on top of you as he spilled himself in you made your eyes wide in shock.

Ben was breathing heavily on your skin and grumbling softly on your neck. Your hands found his back and caressed the star emblem on his suit, and all you could do was wait for him to finish.

To your amazement, he moaned, “Fuck, sorry,” into your neck as he kept filling you up. His voice was shaking. You were perplexed by his response since it sounded regretful. The closer he got, the more tightly he gripped your hips as though you may break free at any second.

He had previously refused to allow you to finish. You didn't know why it was important right now.

You simply said, “It's okay,” not sure how you should respond. It felt awkward when you realized it was over already. You waited for Ben to finish since it was unclear what to do at this point and the air was thick.

Ben didn't feel any better coming inside you so quickly; he had just fucking entered you. Wearing the suit he's always admired, you were there, underneath him, ready for him to take what he'd needed and wanted and yearned for weeks, but he felt awful, and his pride had been broken again. Fuck, he thought to himself. He didn't know what was going on with him these days. His cock must have missed you way too much; he could even know it seemed.

For the first time in his life, he looked for anything to say—anything to at least soften the situation and cover up his wounded pride—but he had no idea how. Not being able to get hard was not as bad as it was. He may have failed because he didn't jerk off earlier. He didn't know a single fucking thing right now.

He only needed to make you come around his cock, but he had failed once more. In spite of your pleas, all he did was leave you feeling unsatisfied. He was unable to contain himself for even five minutes. Ben's constant confidence began to fade from him.

Ben was still breathing heavily on your neck, and he tried to speak, but nothing came out. He never liked to feel powerless, but as you were waiting for him to draw his softening cock back, he did feel powerless. Although he felt physically satisfied, this didn't make him feel any better; instead, it made him feel even more annoyed, stressed, and unsatisfied.

You finally had the guts to make the first move, and your hands left his back. You put one hand to your underwear and attempted to lift it, giving him a message to pull back so that you could break the tension and be ready to go. As you waited for Ben to realize what was going on and withdraw his cock from your pussy, your face started to flush.

Ben took a big breath and cautiously and gently removed his cock from you when he got the cue. You wanted that release badly, but there was nothing you could do. Your walls tightened with expectation once more. Perhaps at a later day.

Ben was staring at your chest as you adjusted your underwear, and he tucked himself back into his pants, trying to get your attention away from his intense stare. Ben was looking between your legs, where his thick come was dripping, before you pulled your panties back. He should have put his hot cum back in your pussy. His erection was screaming for him to be put back in you, so he could fuck you some more, but there was absolutely no time.

Ben said in a rough voice, nervous, “I couldn't hold it back,” and he zipped himself back, waiting on top of you and refusing to let go. Seeing your dissatisfied, confused, and reddened face was an unbearable source of pain. “I didn't do it...on purpose.”

You whispered, “It's okay,” in a trembling voice. Ben was still between your legs, and you wanted to straighten your skirt too. It was time to make the air softer. “It's not the first time.”

It looks like it didn't help any better, Ben stated, “No, it's not,” a firm voice said. You had no idea what he really meant. “I will fix this as soon as we get the job done.”

You wondered how much time you had left if you offered a second time. You had a total of thirty minutes, and now you must have around twenty minutes remaining. But you weren't sure if it was appropriate to offer it. Ben didn't seem to be interested in going inside you again tonight, so you waited for him to initiate it.

You licked your dry lips, whispered gently, “Okay,” and watched him eventually retreat.

Ben surprised you with a strong and soft kiss before helping you to stand up. He withdrew without allowing you to kiss him back. For a brief time, your gaze met. Whatever had occurred was unimportant because, let's face it, you weren't teenagers and it was simply sex. A quick one. You had done it right more than a hundred times with Ben. Actually, only with Ben.

You felt awkward knowing that Ben's seed was still inside of you, but you were too busy to take a quick shower. Ben finished fixing his own suit and hair and remarked, “Remember to be quick there and don't take any attention. You are a Supe after all, to frighten him well and make sure he shits in his trousers so he will share all he knows.”

It relieved you to see him bring up a different subject.

You complained, sounding irritated, saying, “I know what to do,” since Ben was giving you advice. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

His, “Good girl,” were accompanied by a wink.

His gaze was now and then resting on your suit and again on your skirt. The look on his face hardened. “I didn't know that skirt was that short.”

“It has to be because of the washing machine.”

“I can see your lovely ass cheeks from here,” he scowled, making you turn a little around yourself.

You said, adjusting the skirt slightly, “Stop exaggerating.” You saw Ben was carefully glancing at your legs and skirt, so you changed the topic and asked, “What happens if Homelander doesn't come to you?” He wasn't pleased with how much skin you showed.

“He will. I'll make sure to explode good and nice.” He attempted to make a dirty joke, but he didn't smile at all. Instead, he caressed your arms to comfort you.

“But make sure you don't hurt anyone, Ben,” you firmly stated, placing your palm where the star emblem was on his belt. “I'm serious.”

“Of course not,” he said instantly, as if you had just uttered something ridiculous. He sounded puzzled.

Even though you knew he should exercise caution as well, you remained silent. Perhaps you just didn't want him to believe that you were also worried about him. Actually, all that worried you about his chest was the enormous and potentially lethal power it held. After all, he was still unable to find a means to control it.

“Do you think you can handle Homelander there?”

It seemed better to question him about his strength in order to provoke him.

“Are you really questioning my strength, sweetie?” He asked amused, trying to disguise the fact that your suspicious tone had hurt his pride. “I will tear that lab product apart, and you'll be watching on the TV.”

“If you say so,” you said, giving him a little smile.

Ben continued, “By the way,” clearing his throat and carefully placing his gun in your palm after removing it from his suit. “You take this. Since you are not carrying a pistol, it may be useful.”

You mumbled, “I'm a supe, Ben,” but you refused to return the gun to him. “Every part of my body is a gun itself.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ben chuckled and bit his lips sexily, “Don't even tell me.” You've tried to hide your embarrassment, so just roll your eyes at him.

“But thanks anyway,” you said as you tucked the firearm in your suit.

You both heard Butcher returning just as he was about to speak, so you knew it was time. You left the room before Ben got his shield from the corner. All you wanted was for today to be over already.

⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆

A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated. Let me know what you think please <33

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[honnelander]

surprises

WOW OK i can't believe i did this!! i needed a small break from my writer's block with Sanji and wanted to try my hand at another opla character that i find really interesting! and cute i'm sorry this was a lot of fun to write and i enjoyed the change of pace so i hope you enjoy! if you want to be tagged in any of my work, please read this

gif credit @zsuo

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2k

pairing: opla!buggy x reader

summary: reader is on 'clown duty' on the Going Merry while the crew searches for Nami, but the more you talk with Buggy, the more you realize you like him.

masterlist

taglist: @yarnnerdally @miloonmetis @fa1rybubbl3z @feelinmatcha @buggy0827 @uncomfortableshoelace @notasgard @deserticwren @shadydeanmuffin @ohsilk @antrenna @laviiv

Ok, you’ll admit it, you’ll finally admit it. You were finally going to admit to yourself the tiny, stupid, and annoying thought that has been plaguing the back of your mind for days now: 

You thought the clown was hot. 

Even saying that small, little sentence to yourself in your mind made you cringe and want to smack yourself into next week. 

You thought the clown was attractive? Buggy the freaking clown? Buggy, the flashy fool? Buggy, the... what, something-something jester? The guy that constantly wore that silly circus make up all the time, so you didn’t really know what his face even looked like exactly? The person who rivaled Usopp in always having the most shit to say? It was ridiculous.  

What was even worse, was the fact that he was just a head at this point, he wasn’t even a full person with a body. You had no idea what the rest of him looked like and you hated the fact that you were just so god damn curious to find out. It was embarrassing- you were attracted to a literal talking head! 

Apparently though, the rest of the crew had said, sans Sanji since you both had joined Luffy’s crew at the same time, that this Buggy guy was bad news. Why exactly? You didn’t really know, but it had something to do with Buggy attempting to drown Luffy to obtain the map to the Grand Line and decimating a town a couple of weeks ago. 

But it looked like that warning of ‘Buggy is dangerous’ had turned into ‘Buggy is just annoying’ since all he was now, at this point in time, was just a talking head that never seemed to shut up. That talking head, however, was your crew’s only ticket to find a rogue Nami so you all had no choice but to put up with his antics. 

“Can’t you just tell us where Arlong is?” you asked the clown head offhandedly one morning out on deck as you sharpened your daggers. “Without, you know, all the theatrics?”  

“God,” Buggy groaned, rolling his eyes to the heavens. “Are you deaf or are you just stupid?” he asked exasperatedly as his head hopped around and turned to face you. “For the millionth time- I can’t just tell you where Arlong is. My powers don’t work like that. I’m not a compass or a map.” 

“Well, actually, you kind of are, aren’t you?” you asked curiously with an eyebrow raised, not put off by his rude tone. “I mean, think about it,” you started, pointing the tip of your dagger to look at him. “You could like, ‘leave’ a toe or something anywhere you wanted to remember a certain thing or place, and you could then just... sense where to go to get it back. Exactly like a map.” You were silent for a minute as you went back to sharpening the blade. “But I guess you already did that, right? Since that’s how you found Luffy at the Baratie?” you asked with a thoughtful hum. 

“Wow,” Buggy laughed condescendingly. “You’re a real sharpshooter, aren’t you? Thanks for that master analysis, captain obvious. What do you think I’m doing right now?” 

The corner of your mouth twitched upwards. “Acting like a map to get your body back,” you answered without hesitation and a twinge of smugness. “Maybe you should be called ‘Buggy the Map’ instead. It has a nice ring to it.” 

The clown’s patronizing smile dropped, his expression deadpanning. “Haha, very funny,” Buggy said in a humorless voice. “And here I thought you weren’t anything more than just a pretty face.” 

Your eyes darted to him, quickly scanning over his expression to see if he was seriously calling you pretty or if he was just joking. When you saw no hint of sincerity in his green eyes (wow they were pretty), you cleared your throat and refocused your attention back onto your blade.  

“Yeah, well, I’m full of surprises actually,” you said matter-of-factly without thinking, your mouth having a mind of its own. Your eyes widened slightly, your line of sight not budging from your dagger as your hand running along the blade stilled for a second.  

Were you flirting with Buggy?

Were you insane? 

Buggy’s attention was already wandering but at your choice of words, his eyes snapped right back to your face. For once in his life, he was at a loss for words. “Uh... ok?” He blinked. “Like what?” 

You felt your cheeks flush slightly, running your sharpening stone along the blade at a quicker pace. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

The clown furrowed his eyebrows, scrunching up his face in confusion as he looked at you. He felt like he had entered the Twilight zone or something.  

“Uh, yeah. You’re the one who brought it up, sweet cheeks,” he said as he watched you intently focus on your task at hand. Buggy then quirked an eyebrow as he added in snooty tone, “Well, whatever ‘surprise skills’ you have can’t possibly be knife sharpening because you’ve been working on that same blade all morning.” 

Shit. He was right, you realized. You had been out here longer than you initially thought and had been working on the same dagger ever since you sat down with him.  

In a quick attempt to hide your embarrassment at being called out, you swiftly sat up and stabbed the tip of your small blade into the wooden barrel next to where his head was. “Watch your mouth clown!” 

But Buggy didn’t even flinch. “Pfft, nice try sweetheart,” he scoffed. “But blades don’t scare me. I’m immune to cuts, remember? I’m literally just a head right now.” 

Crap. He got you. Again. You leaned back in your seat, pulling out your other blade to sharpen.  

“Oooo, another dagger, huh?” he asked with feigned interest, catching your gaze. “I guess you really are ‘full of surprises’,” he teased with an overly flirtatious tone and an exaggerated wink. 

At that, your face reddened. You knew he was just joking, but the combination of you admitting to yourself that you found him attractive coupled with his flirty teasing and that wink... it was causing your heart rate to accelerate like you had a schoolgirl crush.  

And crushing on Buggy? The talking clown head? It was just all too ridiculous. 

You resumed your blade sharpening ritual, trying to pretend like he wasn’t affecting you. “Well, I did tell you that, didn’t I?” you asked, trying to turn the tables back on him. 

Buggy was silent for a beat as his eyes regarded you. HIs voice dropped an octave lower, intentionally or not, you weren’t sure, as he said in a more earnest tone, “Yeah... but I didn’t think it was true.” 

Your eyebrows shot up at hearing his admission, his tone surprising you as you quickly turned your head towards him. When you saw the look in his eyes, the way that he was still staring at you, it caused your heart to skip a beat. It was like he was seeing you for the first time, really seeing you. 

‘Being more than a pretty face’ wasn’t something you took lightly; it was something you lived by. It had become your mantra of some sort. Your whole life, you were underestimated, rarely ever being taken seriously because you ��had a pretty face’ that you could ‘coast by’ on. People (men) always assumed you were too dumb to understand things or be smart and have talents because you were pretty, and it absolutely infuriated you.  

You shook your head, clearing up those thoughts. You didn’t feel like delving into that right now and especially not with Buggy of all people, so instead of biting back, you said with a curt, humorless laugh as you went back to your blade, “There’s always more to people than meets the eye, you know.” 

Buggy let out a snort, his green eyes looking towards the sky for a second. “Yeah,” he agreed. “No kidding.” 

Both of you became quiet, a few beats of strangely comfortable silence passing between the two of you before you broke it. 

“But probably not with you though,” you joked. “You’re probably just all clown, complete with bad jokes and questionable make up. And,” you looked at him, a spark of mischief in your eyes, “you’re probably not even that tall.” 

You hoped to God that Buggy really did have a sense a humor and that your playful jabs didn’t go over his bandana cladded head because you really didn’t want to make an enemy out of him. And if he didn’t get your sense of humor, then you and him probably would never work out anyway.  

Your stomach fell to your feet at the thought. What were you even saying?? Jesus, you really were delusional. The quicker you guys found Arlong and split ways with Buggy, the better. 

But of course, the universe had different plans for you, because Buggy did in fact have a sense of humor and took your mockery of his height in stride. 

“What- not tall?? Please,” his voice becoming playfully haughty. “Just wait until you see my body, sweetheart. I’ll be looking down at you, telling you the best jokes you’ve ever heard in your life with some fresh clown make-up on,” he said, winking at you with a click of his tongue. “I call it ‘the Buggy trifecta.’” 

You looked away from him, hiding your flushed cheeks as you shook your head, a smile on your face as you opened your mouth to say something back when Sanji came up to the upper deck, a small smile on his face when he saw you and effectively cutting off your banter. 

“Ah, there you are y/n!” the blonde cook called out. “I’ve been looking for you. I didn’t realize you’d be out here on, uh,” his blue eyes darted to Buggy for a nanosecond before looking back at you, “clown duty.” 

Buggy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Well, good morning to you too, happy feet.” 

Sanji glanced at Buggy again, furrowing his eyebrows for a second before shaking his head once with a blink and letting out a small sigh as he turned his attention back to you, deciding it wasn’t worth it to argue with the clown head. 

“Yeah, so, uh, anyway,” he said as he put his hands in his pockets. “Breakfast is ready,” he relayed, jabbing a thumb behind him. “I wanted to let you know before it got cold.” 

“Hey, what about my breakfast, blondie?” Buggy complained. “I might just be a head right now, but a clown’s gotta eat, you know?” When he saw the questionable stares from you and Sanji, Buggy shook his head. “Don’t ask me how it works,” he said before either of you could say anything. “But it just does. I still get hungry and need to eat.” He looked back up at Sanji, his green eyes expectant. “So how about whipping me up some scrambled eggs, huh?” 

Sanji blinked. “Oh, well, sure-” 

“I got it, Sanji,” you said, cutting off your lifelong friend. You stood up from your seat, sheathing your daggers back into their holsters on your hips. “I’ll make you some eggs Buggy.” 

“Ooo, look at that,” Buggy laughed. “You really are full of surprises, aren’t you?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Ignoring the questioning look Sanji was giving you, you walked past the two men, well, man and talking head, and started going down the stairs. “Here’s another surprise: I’ll cook you your eggs once I’m done eating, in like an hour. How does that sound?” 

“Whoa, wait, wait, wait! I didn’t mean it like that, y/n!” Buggy quickly backtracked, trying his best to smooth things over with you as fast as he could. “I meant that as like, a good surprise! Really!” 

You smirked to yourself, finding it funny how quickly Buggy switched up his mannerisms in order to get what he wanted. “Sanji, you’re on clown duty!” You called out, tunning Buggy out, leaving him begging and pleading with a confused Sanji, who was wondering what the heck he just witnessed between you two. 

[zerobasekazuha]

Hi! I was wondering if you can do amab! Venture hate fucking fem!reader who works for talon 😇

W anon for requesting this I’ll make this one extra special

As Sloan finished up their excavation at Petra, they admired the artifact they found. All that time spent in the sun as it ruthlessly beat down on them was worth it. They were covered head to toe in dirt and sweat. They took a moment to wipe off the dirt on their cheek. Sloan gathered up their things and all the while had something lingering on their mind.

Earlier that day, they had a run in with Talon. More specifically as they would put it, one of their goons. But it didn’t feel like they were just fighting against any normal talon goons. This one in particular was smarter, more swift and aggressive. Judging by the body shape alone it had to have been a girl right? It was something they pondered. They couldn’t tell however. The individual was masked.

Sloan set up camp somewhere right by the ruins they explored at. As they finally got something to eat and had a chance to sit down and breathe they could hear something from outside. It sounded like rustling. They hummed before peeking outside of what they called home for the time being.

“Must have been the wind.” Sloan said trying to convince themselves that they were alone. Nobody was there with them. Except they were incorrect. As soon as they turned around there was the same talon worker from earlier. Sloan jumped in fear. What were they doing in their home?

Sloan didn’t have time to question it before they grabbed their drill, they held it up like a threat. “You’re not getting any of these artifacts.” They said proudly, trying not to express their fear from how they managed to sneak behind them. The person didn’t say anything, rather it looked to the side observing the artifact Sloan worked all day to obtain.

“Oh no not that one!” They lunged to get it, however the figure grabbed it. Sloan could begin to feel frustrated. All day in the heat finding this little important piece of history and they could possibly loose it. The only thing on their mind was getting it back.

Fighting this figure was harder than they thought. Having to avoid breaking other things they owned as they tried to get it back was harder than they thought. At some point they kicked off the helmet that the figure wore. And it was a woman. A beautiful one at that. But they couldn’t let themselves get wrapped up into her looks when she was trying to steal from them.

Once Sloan had their hands on the artifact it seemed to shatter from what it gone through moments prior. In that instant Sloan seen red. They weren’t the same they usually were as their hard work went to waste.

They tackled the woman, Sloan holding her down as they looked down at her. When she looked back at them she had a smirk. She hadn’t said much to them until that moment. When she laughed at them. It got them more frustrated.

“This isn’t funny! You just ruined almost 100 years of history and this is funny? My hard work is all gone!” They yelled at her hoping she understood what she just did. “That little piece of crap wasn’t worth much anyway nerd. You wasted your own time.”

Sloan never thought they would hear that in their life. That some relic that they found wasn’t worth much. “You’re wrong! It’s worth so much! And it’s so-“ “I don’t care. Are you going to let me go? Hit me? I’m so scared.” She seemed to say sarcastically.

If it weren’t for her pretty face Sloan would have already been done with her. However an idea clicked into their mind. A way for them to get their revenge without actually hurting her face. They liked looking at it.

“Actually no, I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to take it.” Sloan thought those words were foreign to them. Like it didn’t come from them and they forced themselves out of their mouth.

“Like you could.” She seemed to say with a laugh. Mocking them. Sloan hated being mocked and made fun of. It pissed them off some way they’ve always kept concealed. But with that they thought that they shouldn’t use the bed to prove to her their worth. They were going to leave her right on the ground.

“Just you watch.” And just like that Sloan had this beautiful woman uttering nonsense under them. Their fingers were softly squeezing her throat. A sinister smile across their face as they watched how she reacted. Sloan was just teasing her core with their cock. Moments before using their fingers.

“What was that you said earlier?” They asked as they inserted themselves into her. It wasn’t hard at all because she was already so wet under them. But for Sloan this was almost like heaven for them. Usually since they’ve been out here they’ve had to rely on their hand. This feels much better than that.

Sloan could hear her mumble meaningless apologies as they started at a slow pace. “You know..maybe I’m not sorry..you can’t-“ Y/n was cut off as Sloans pace got faster. Hitting deeper with each stroke. It left her speechless as she least expected it.

Sloan took out all their frustration and anger from earlier all on her in that moment. They were biting her, leaving soft pink hickies in the firelight that engulfed the room. Eventually they could hear her basically begging them, crying out for them. “S-so close…” But Sloan didn’t care. This wasn’t just for her. They cared about them and their release. It sounded selfish but again they didn’t care.

They could feel her tense up under them and tighten their core around Sloans cock. They bit their lip trying to prevent any whimpers from falling as they got closer and closer to their release. The talon agent on the other hand was moaning out, most likely from overstimulation.

Sloan then grunted out, the sound they tried to keep hidden came out of them as they pulled out in time to cum on her stomach. They closed their eyes as they panted. A couple moments passed, and Y/ns priority was getting cleaned up before she had to go back to report her failure to Talon.

The two didn’t say anything to each other after. She left as swiftly as she came. And dazed Sloan almost wondered whether they could see her again. They noticed something left behind from her however. A note, they questioned why it would have been left behind.

Once they read it she said that she wouldn’t mind coming back for them. Not for the artifacts or relics but for them alone. They didn’t know if they should be scared or excited but either way Sloan smiled reading it feeling something bubbling up in their stomach as they put the note in a safe spot.

Again thanks so much for requesting this and I enjoyed writing it :D I considered other versions of writing this before I settled on this one alone.

[kabie-whump]

OK I'M SORRY I JUST GOT THIS IDEA

what if at some point Athos decided to punish Ventis with a drug that makes him PAINFULLY aware of all that's happening, in contrast with the way the nighspill makes him numb?

It's okay if you don't write it, I just needed to share it

(I'm sorry if my english is bad, it's not my first language)

ooo I just got back from vacation and I am thrilled to see this in my inbox! This is a very fun idea! Also I love it so much when people talk to me about my stories.

Decided to do a little bit of writing from Athos's POV, just to shake things up a bit.

// Non-explicit rape/non-con, forced drug use, sensory play (hot wax, ice), burning, bondage

~~~

Athos was getting bored.

The intimate moments he shared with his dear, sweet Ventis were pleasurable every time, sure. The genasi was good at what he did, even while he was dazed out of his mind off nightspill. But still, Athos couldn't help but wonder if there could be more.

Yes, Athos could do whatever he wanted to Ventis without worry of him putting up a fight. He did an amazing job lying there, making just enough noise to keep his master entertained, but there was never any enthusiasm on his part. It was all an act, a display in the form of soft moans and fists clenched in blankets, but there had been the occasional moment where he slipped and Athos could see the true numbness behind his eyes - the way he fought to stay awake.

Sometimes Athos found himself wishing Ventis would put up a fight, would show any indication that the things his master did to him genuinely made him feel something other than boredom.

It was the nightspill's fault. It kept Ventis calm, but it turned him into more of a mindless doll than anything else. Athos considered withholding the drug for a day, just to see what it would be like to use him without it, but he knew it wouldn't have the desired outcome. Ventis would be too distracted by the withdrawals to care about anything else.

Besides, Athos only trusted magic suppression cuffs so far, and he did not want to risk being shocked the second he touched Ventis. It would ruin the mood.

Athos needed to make him feel things, without taking away his nightspill.

The solution he came to was simple, really.

More drugs.

It took some research and some mingling with sketchier characters down by the docks, but eventually Athos managed to obtain a substance that should do the trick. It was meant to counteract the nightspill, to make Ventis feel everything.

And feel everything he did.

It was fun to watch it kick in, to see pretty purple eyes blinking hard, pupils shrinking to pinpricks.

"There you are," Athos whispered, his fingers brushing along Ventis's sharp cheekbone.

Ventis jumped, the hairs on his arms standing upright at that one little touch.

"Hm. This'll be fun."

He'd ended up having to tie the boy down. Apparently he just didn't know how to hold still when he could actually feel what was happening to him, and Athos had tired of struggling to pin him to the bed and dragging him back into place every time he made a weak attempt to crawl away.

This was so different from what he had become used to over the last year or so. Athos had always loved the sight of his pet lying still under him, eyes half closed, all sleepy and dazed as he took what he was given.

But this?

Unmatched.

Athos watched with a grin as Ventis's body arched against the ropes, his lithe muscles straining. The blindfold over his eyes was soaking wet, standing out a stark silky red against his pale blue skin.

It wasn't sex anymore. Athos had tired of that some time ago and had since moved on to other little experiments - other ways to play with his slave in the hours before the drug wore off.

"Stop!" Ventis wailed as the light of a match flickered against his heaving stomach. "Please!"

Athos chuckled. He'd never heard Ventis be this loud and demanding before.

"That's perfect, treasure," Athos said softly, pulling the flame away for a moment before lowering it onto Ventis's skin once more. "You're doing very well."

"Please-" his voice broke on a relieved sob as the match was extinguished. "Please, no more."

"But you sound so pretty, darling. I never get to hear you like this."

Ventis's chest shuddered as he tried to regain control over his gasping breaths. His skin was covered in droplets of water and wax and little purple burns, all remnants of the sensory experiments Athos had conducted on him. His perfect face glistened with tears and drool.

"W-What did I do? Please, Master. I don't- ah!"

As Ventis babbled on, Athos dipped his fingers into the cold glass bowl on the bedside table, fishing out a fresh ice cube. He pressed its smooth surface to the freshest burn, watching with fascination as his whole body broke out into shivers. 

"Aw, so sensitive. We should do this more often."

~~~

@scp-1296 @sapphicccici @acer-gaysimpstuff @morning-star-whump @yeetmyskeet

@sleepyiswhumping @bitchaknso @unicornbeck @wounds-seen-and-unseen @3-2-whump

@looptheloup @lindsay00000008 @rainydaywhump

[a-student-out-of-time]

Thoughts on DRDT Chapter 2 Episode 12

//Hey everyone! So, it's been 17 months since the last episode, which...holy crap, right?

//Now that we've come to the continuation of our story, we have some new things to discuss, and I'm not just talking about what I've said. Instead of just repeating myself again, let's break down what's been happening in this episode and then we can continue theorizing.

I have three big things I want to address in this, which we should consider going forward:

(SPOILERS AHEAD)

The Murder Was Actually WORSE than it seemed

So Charles' point about where they fucked up was about the murder. However, it was about something I don't believe any of us quite considered: that the water from the relaxation room was taken and held for later use. We do have jugs in the trash that prove it's possible.

It's nice to see Teruko admit that she made a mistake and that the time of the murder was wrong, but to me, this meant two things: our murder could've happened at quite possibly any time and it would've been worse than it sounds.

See, death by drowning is already one of the worst ways to die, but if they obtained some jugs of water and used those in the murder, it means that our victim must've been waterboarded to death. Drowning is bad, but waterboarding is an even worse and more horrific way to die. More importantly to this case, it's pretty quick for the culprit.

Without oxygen, you'll experience brain death within 6-10 minutes. Since we now know the murder was set up in advance overnight, this means that all they really needed to do was grab their target, carry out the drowning and then hang the body to break the neck and disguise the cause of death. It could be over in less than 15 minutes.

We also now know that, as we all predicted, the murder likely took place around 7:30-8 AM, not PM, when most people were asleep and only a few were up at breakfast. This has also thrown most everyone's alibis out the window.

Essentially, whomever our victim was, she was murdered via waterboarding and then her body hung up while some people were awake. They cut is so close that the body was still swaying, as Teruko noted. That wouldn't happen just from the fans.

2. What's David Game Plan?

I've made it no secret that I'm not a fan of David, nor do I agree with the view that he's set to be DT's rival. As I've said many times before, Teruko doesn't need a rival like him, since the only challenge he offers her is being an existential threat.

That being said, I both like and dislike what happened with David this episode. It's good to see him not consistently being an annoying troll who evades questions by being a dick, and to actually have something more to say and some actual questions he raises. He's been lying about being Arei's killer, and apparently, that's part of what he considers a noble goal on par with Xander.

David's point in this episode is that he wants to be a "good person" like Xander, which echoes my points in my theory about how that's what this chapter is about: The Meaning Of A "Good Person." Teruko is, understandably, still very bitter and hurt by his betrayal, so she considers that idea laughable. David's point that "I'm sure he had a good reason" actually made me laugh, admittedly.

But what's interesting is he gave us an answer in the form of a non-answer. He claims he believes in something greater than himself and the lives of everyone else in this game, and since they're all on TV, he questions why this would be happening if the people behind it didn't want to make things entertaining. He brings up how Xander wanted to end the killing game and he's been derailing the trial because he says he wants to do the same.

What's frustrating is, as Hu says, David has essentially decided everyone's lives aren't important enough to preserve, so it's better if they all just give up and die to end the game. Xander did not want that, he wanted to end it with minimal casualties. A Total Party Kill is antithetical to everything Xander stood for, so if David is being sincere, he's really spitting in the guy's face.

I'm really curious what exactly he meant by him being the only one who "recognized" him. The thing with J early on proved that some of these people were at least aware of each other pre-game.

But does this mean David is actually a good person with noble goals? What part of "You exist to manipulate others" is not clear? I can't accept that at this point, but here's what I can accept, because it fits in so well with what we've been seeing:

Consider: why exactly did Xander try to kill Teruko? Because someone wanted her dead and somehow convinced him to give it a shot. We know that someone out there wants Teruko dead for whatever reason, and direct attempted murder has failed. What's the next best thing? Convince someone else that she needs to be dealt with.

Remember the secret David got? "How could I even select what secret to be your motive? Just about everything you've done in your life is worth killing for. The killing game is all your fault."

And let's be real: it's gotta be Teruko's. Between everything we've seen, it can't be anyone else. I'm sure David just said it was Xander's because it was easier to blame a dead person.

So let's consider how easy it would be for David to see that secret and then convince himself that Xander not only had the right idea, it really is better to let everyone die if it means Teruko is gone too. I can buy his admiration for Xander could drive him to do something like that if he learned something that horrible about Teruko, and then decide it was all for the greater good.

That, of course, assumes he actually means what he says. I remain convinced that Hu was the one who carried out the killing in his stead, and with the Blackened rule- it's the one who's the "most mastermind-y," not just whoever deals the fatal blow- David's alibi is irrelevant.

"But Bubbles, didn't Hu and Nico say that they have alibis for morning?"

Yes, but I'm also convinced David drove both of them to attempt murder for these very same reasons, first with Ace and then Arei. Either this was a "selfless" act based on his blind hero-worship of Xander that required everyone to be sacrificed, or this is all a selfish act to end the game and escape with his own life. Until someone can independently verify that Hu and Nico have alibis, I can't believe anything they say.

As for why they wouldn't say anything, Hu made a very impassioned speech about wanting to live and that David has no right to decide who should live and die. She is correct, and if her secret is that she was a hopeless child who tried to end it all three times, that actually adds a lot more weight to what she's saying here.

...But at the same time, under the belief that whomever killed would be executed, why would someone who wants to live just admit to being the one who did it? I don't like to consider it, bu Hu's desire to live paradoxically makes her more suspicious in my eyes. At least in being David's patsy.

Oh, and speaking of murder, here's the thing we all called.

3. Levi's Secret

Let's be real: we all probably saw this one coming. In the closing minutes of the episode, Levi admits that his secret is being a remorseless murderer.

Now, where everyone got this wrong is in assuming that, because that's his secret, it means that he must've been the one to kill Arei. That theory can be pretty definitively put to bed because, as I said with Hu, why would a murderer just admit to being a murderer after all this has happened?

Moreover, his point wasn't a confession. He didn't say he was the one who killed her, he apologized for potentially derailing the discussion again, and this was when everyone had hit a dead end in how to progress. If Levi were the Blackened, why would he do that? It would be in his best interest to stay quiet until the very end.

Instead, I think this is where an even stronger point in my favor comes in: Arei really did visit Levi, and they did discuss their secrets, but he didn't kill her. They either collaborated, talked about it or at least made peace about it, since they both came from pretty shitty families and probably found some common ground.

David brought up what it means to be a good person, but Arei and Levi are also great examples. Both have done terrible things and wanted to find redemption from them, Levi with murder and Arei with being a bully. The only reason I can see this being brought up now is because we have yet to hear his or her side of this story, and that could bring us to more important revelations down the line.

//So there you go, my breakdown of this episode. It's answered some questions, pretty definitively ended a couple theories, and raised many more points of discussion. And thankfully now we only have to wait until Friday to receive some more answers : P

[karniss-bg3]

Writing prompt! Imagine Kar'niss and Tav actually getting into a disagreement about something relatively serious (something other than Kar'niss just getting grumpy about not feeding the shadows), and it being a moment of realization for one or both of them that Kar'niss is growing as a person to be more than just a yes-man to a perceived "majesty"

Weeks had passed since Tav’s arrival at Moonrise. During their stay they had bore witness to many incidents that made their skin crawl, atrocities which cemented in the idea that this may not be the place for them. They were in the process of packing their things, stuffing articles of clothing and supplies into their bag in a hurried fashion. Their mind often drifted to Kar’niss, one of few individuals in the accursed place they felt even a sliver of sympathy for. Yet he seemed cemented in place, unwilling to budge from his devotion, putting Tav in a conflicted state of mind. Distracted as they were they didn’t hear the soft clicking that moved along the wall, their concentration broken by a voice tucked away in a high corner.

“What is the True Soul doing?”

Tav whirled around, their heart rate kicking into high gear from the sudden intrusion. Their gaze drifted to see several reflective eyes peering at them from a darkened corner, watching Tav with an intensity that was slightly off putting. They often forgot there were many holes the drider could squeeze through if he wished it.

“Kar’niss, you startled me,” Tav said. They placed their hand on their chest in an effort to steady the rapid thumping within their rib cage. “I’m packing. I don’t think this is where I belong.”

Kar’niss’ pedipalps curled tight to his body, inching from his perch near the ceiling to creep closer to the ground. “True Soul is...leaving?”

“Yes,” Tav murmured, “I think that is for the best. I realize you hold loyalty to your Mistress but I at least ask for a head start before you inform the others. I’d like to think I’ve earned your trust enough for that much.” Tav swung their pack over their shoulder while turning to face the perplexed drider.

He frowned and climbed off the wall, his legs carrying him across the floor to bridge the gap between himself and Tav. “A traitor, a heretic…?! How dare one of Her faithful abandon Her!” He arced up while his front legs lifted into an aggressive stance.

Tav didn’t budge, reading Kar’niss’ face, able to see a tinge of uncertainty within his features. “No, how dare She treat one of Her faithful the way She does you.” Tav snapped, their chest pushed out in an effort to stand up to his advance.

“Wh—What? True Soul speaks lies. We are Her chosen, Her devout! We should rip out your blasphemous tongue!” Kar’niss shifted from side to side in an anxious trot, his hand retrieving the sword at his back.

“I am the first that has spoken any truth to you at all, at least in these walls. Don’t you see how they treat you? You’re less than dirt on the bottom of a shoe to these fanatics. They have one goal and they don’t give a shit who dies to obtain it. That includes you.”

“No, NO! Majesty loves us, She did not see an abomination in us. She saw a soldier, strong and loyal. A guide to shepherd Her followers into Her light. We are important!” Kar’niss’ breathing increased in pace, the grip on his sword hilt so tight that his knuckles grew ghostly pale.

“I don’t see you as an abomination either. Does that count for nothing? Who else besides me has spoken to you since I’ve been here? Who played beautiful music for you while you stood alone at the top of the tower?”

“But—“

“Who bandaged your wounds when the rest left you to die? Who called you by your name? Not drider, not web-arse, not eight-legged freak. Kar’niss!”

His hands trembled, his eyes darting around in confusion. “W-Wuh—We...are Her chosen. We are nothing without Majesty’s light…” His voice trailed off, wobbled and in pain.

“Which is the lie they have been feeding you since the beginning. But I don’t believe that, not for a second. I think you’re better than playing puppet to some selfish deity. You should come with me, leave this wretched place. Rise above the expectations of someone else.”

Kar’niss backed away from Tav as if he had been struck with a weapon, visibly panting from a growing panic. “They do not know us! They think they can barge in and try to lead us astray!”

“I am trying to lead you astray because I don’t want you to die here!”

“What does it matter if we die? Our lives are forfeit, we belong no where! We are nothing!” Kar’niss’ voice raised, his body lifting up more so as his inner anger churned deep within.

“Stop it, it’s NOT TRUE!”

“IT IS!”

“Tell me what the fuck you want!” Tav yelled as they stepped forward, invading the drider’s space despite how volatile the situation had grown.

“I—We…”

Tav marched up and poked Kar’niss directly between the pedipalps. “Don’t hold out on me now, speak for yourself for once.”

“Be silent!”

“Tell me, TELL ME!”

“To be more than THIS!” He cried, the grip on his sword lost causing it to hit the ground with a loud clang. His entire body quivered while he backed away from Tav. His form once puffed up and aggressive shrank down considerably, tucking himself away into a corner. He put his face in his hands, the sob he bit back escaped, a torrent of emotion unleashed. “I want to be more...than this.” His words were muffled by his hands, dripping with pent up anguish he kept locked away for far too long.

Tav exhaled a heavy breath while they rubbed the back of their neck, doing their best to calm down after the heated exchange. They wandered over to where Kar’niss sought to hide away, a frown etched over their features. “As do I. Please don’t give up, there is more for you out there than you may think.”

His hands lowered to reveal his face which was smeared with moisture. He stared at Tav a long moment to think over what was said, struggling to process it. Before he could respond the sound of quick footsteps were heard approaching the room. The door thrust open and a half-orc woman known as Z’rell entered.

“What is going on? We heard a commotion from downstairs!” Her eyes darted to Tav with scrutiny then wandered over to Kar’niss who looked upset. “Drider, you are meant to be on patrols. You’ve been asked not to hassle the True Soul. Must we take you to the dungeons for reeducation?”

Tav frowned while Kar’niss sucked in a sharp breath, his fear of such a fate radiating from his very pores.

“No, Disciple Z’rell. He is not hassling me,” Tav said.

The half-orc’s upper lip curled, taking note of the packed satchel over Tav’s shoulder. “And where is it you’re going? You’ve not been given any assignment.”

Tav’s breath hitched in their throat, their gaze wandering over to Kar’niss. They knew he could out them at any moment as he knew of their plan to leave. A silence fell over the room, each party involved looking to one another, the tension thick in the air.

“W-With us,” Kar’niss said. “We are to retrieve new followers, it is Majesty’s will. With a True Soul they will be more willing to follow an a-abomination.”

Tav’s eyebrows lofted with some surprise. They watched Kar’niss’ features, able to sense it pained him to lie and yet at the same time it was an odd sort of relief to him.

Z’rell huffed. “Very well, if it is in service to the Absolute. Do not be gone for long, we march for Baldur’s Gate soon. And for fucks sake keep it down.”

Both Tav and Kar’niss nodded. “Of course Disciple Z’rell, we understand. Thank you,” Tav said.

The warlock rolled her eyes and left the room, closing the door behind her with a firm slam. The pair left behind exhaled in unison, as close of a call as either could’ve expected. Tav turned to the drider who was still a little dazed and pensive.

“You saved my neck. Thank you, Kar’niss.”

He shook his head while rubbing his hands together in a nervous fervor. “She will be angry with us. We will be punished, She will take Her light away.”

Tav stepped in closer and reached out to cup his face in a bold move, guiding his chin to look at them. He was startled by the touch unsure how to react to it, but he wasn’t wholly opposed to the contact. “We will find a new light. Come with me, leave this place. Be more than this.” They paused and made eye contact with him. “Please.”

His lips trembled while his legs shuffled with hesitation, one hand rubbing at his plated arm in uncertainty. He had never defied the Absolute before, never even considered it. When he looked at Tav he felt things he couldn’t yet understand. Everything they said had been true even if some pieces were still difficult to fully accept. They were one of Majesty’s True Souls, maybe it meant more than he was meant to know.

“I...will go with you, True Soul. But we are afraid.”

Tav bowed their head and nodded. “I am too. Take comfort in the fact that we’ll be together. I won’t hurt you, I won’t make demands. Trust in me.”

Kar’niss’ brows knit, the very idea of trust a foreign concept all its own. “I will try.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

Kar’niss followed Tav out of the room, the pair wandering past the guards without incident. Kar’niss’ eyes darted around nervously as if certain all around him knew he was leaving for good, certain someone would call out their betrayal. No one did, not a peep to be heard from the residents within, all too self absorbed in their own goals and desires to care about the drider’s or Tav’s intent. They’d exit Moonrise tower and march away from it’s looming shadow toward Baldur’s Gate. Kar’niss stopped on the road to look over his shoulder at the building he’d called home for sometime now. A lingering sadness hung over him, the push and pull of desperation for the Absolute’s acceptance locked in a bitter battle with his deep rooted desire to carve his own path. He couldn’t be sure this was the right choice or even if he fully believed in it, brainwashed as he was. But there was a tiny voice growing within his mind, a spark of free thought that told him to follow Tav into the den of the unknown. For better or for worse this was the voice he chose to listen to. He ripped his gaze from Moonrise and looked ahead to Baldur’s Gate, dutifully marching behind Tav to seek out new horizons, his fate left hanging in the balance.

A crack had begun to form in the foundation of his faith. It would be up to Kar’niss if he wanted to nurture the sprouts of change—or stamp them out as weeds.

[em1i2a3]

I Saw You In A Dream (Part One of Two)

Bjorn x fem!reader

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I’m really getting into this format right now and I am honestly loving this community a lot! I wrote this one kind of out of the blue, but I broke it up into two parts because I was really wanting to build things up more. For this particular part I was hoping to bring some aspects of Alien Isolation into this by including the Seegson Synthetics (or the ‘Working Joes’), but don’t worry it isn’t that integral to the plot, and I’m trying to not touch the lore too much. I hope you guys enjoy this first part though, I will be working on this and many more so keep an eye out for the updates :)

Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Blood/Surgical Procedures, Some Angst, and a little tiny bit of fluff, no smut in this chapter, keep an eye out for the next part tho hehe.

A P.S From the Writer: The title is taken from a song by The Japanese House. I typically listen to music when I write to put me in a good headspace so the song that I tune into to wrap up the chapter usually inspires the title. I will probably make a playlist at some point.

Word Count: 5,615 (Another chunky one!)

The blueprints were laid out on the table. The only light that illuminated the trailer was just above where everyone was sitting.

”This.” Tyler points with the edge of his pen, “Is where we would enter.” He instructed.

”How do you know the doors will even be open?” Bjorn chimed in, interrupting the game plan Tyler was trying to lay out for the team.

“Because I’ve scoped out the place already. You think I’m going to send you in without knowing the ins and outs of the fucking place?” Bjorn shrugged.

”Don’t know, that’s why I asked.” He shot back, walking away from the blueprints. You glanced over at him, watching him settle on the couch with a rough sigh, extending his arm out across the top, getting himself into a comfortable position away from everyone.

”Bjorn, you know you’re gonna have to look the blueprints over to actually know where the fuck you’re going right?” Navarro commented, staring daggers at him from over her shoulder.

”I’m sure I’ll be able to get a play-by-play from all of you, so I’ll stay right here, thank you.” He responded.

“This is an abandoned Weyland-Yutani building Bjorn. We need to be on our fucking game if we don’t want to get caught, now is not the time to have one of your fits.” You said, the backs of your ankles hitting gently against the cabinets below where you were sitting. You knew Tyler had been planning this for a while, and he had worked hard to obtain the blueprints of the place. Not only that, but you knew he was worried about Bjorn copping an attitude, he always did that when he was either jealous or when he didn’t have anything better to do with his time. In this situation, you couldn’t tell why he was being this way.

“If it’s abandoned I’m sure we won’t have any issues, honey.” He smirked. You could feel your blood begin to boil, as your cheeks turned a blush red. He definitely knew how to push everyone’s buttons.

”You think nobody has the same idea of scavenging the place for parts?” Tyler’s voice was filled with disbelief, taken aback by how stupid one person could be. “This is basically a suicide mission if we don’t have a plan. It could be a trap for all we know.”

“Then why are we even trying?” Bjorn questioned, trying to catch Tyler on his own words, his grip tightened on the table, and his teeth bit the flesh on the inside of his lip.

”Because if we don’t try we will be slaves to the corporation for the rest of our fucking lives. If you want that, then you can suit yourself, but we are willing to give it a try.” He said, motioning to the group. At this point everyone was staring at Bjorn, trying to see if any of his features were indicating that he was going to give in and return to his spot at the table, but when he didn’t budge, Tyler just continued with explaining the plan.

————

“Do you know why he was being such a dick today?” Kay asked, leaning against your workstation, looking down on you, watching as your hands worked on fixing your headlamp. You shook your head, wiping the sweat off your forehead, making a note that you needed to find some spare parts to fix your fan.

“I don’t really care, he’s gonna get himself killed if he comes with us though, that’s all I know.” You commented, your nimble fingers working to rewire one of the cords that had been fried. A pang of silence slipped into the room, as you glanced up at her, seeing a small frown appear on her lips. “What? What do you want me to do? Talk to him? Convince him to ask Tyler to show him the blueprints and go over the plan again with him?” You said, the disbelief in your voice almost palpable.

”Rain, Navarro and I have already tried, and Andy….Well you know he won’t take well to Andy.” She says, watching you lean back in your chair so you can get a better look at her, seeing the hidden desperation in her pleading brown eyes. Even though Bjorn could be an asshole at times she still cared about him, and she wanted to make sure that he was going to be safe. Kay would always tell you that family was family regardless of how stupid or mean they could be at times, this was one of those times. You placed the headlamp down on the desk with a defeated sigh.

”Fine…I’ll try, but I’m not promising you anything, if he walks back in with a black eye, don’t blame me. He really pushed my buttons today.” You replied, standing up from your seat, grabbing your sweater, cigarettes and lighter from your work area. She nodded with an understanding smile.

”I know he isn’t fun to be around most of the time, but whether you like it or not we need to have each other's backs, even if it may be hard.” You pulled the sweater over your head, fluffing your hair up, and shaking out the static, shoving your hands into the big pocket to make sure the fabric was covering your oil-stained tank top.

“Yeah, yeah I get it.” You sighed, “I’m gonna go have a cigarette, I’ll update you if my approach works.” She nodded, as you walked by her, down the cramped space of your work area, managing to shift by all the things that you had stacked by the door. You stumbled out into the living room area of the trailer, pushing open the door to step outside onto the makeshift porch you all pitched in to create. You were surprised to see that Bjorn was already outside smoking, sitting on one of the crates everyone used as chairs, watching people go by in their machines. The bright work lights above you were dimmed as the workers were trying to fix the generators that powered them, which allowed your eyes to easily adjust to the surroundings.

“Hey,” You greeted causally. Bjorn glanced over at you, eyebrows going up at your voice as you took up your spot on the other side of the door, leaving a large gap between the two of you. Your hands dug around the pocket of your sweater, slipping one of the cigarettes out of your previously opened pack, and retrieving your lighter in the process. You wrapped your lips around the filter, shifting slightly to get it positioned well before bringing the flame up to the end, breathing in as you lit it. You slid the lighter back in with your pack, and pulled the cigarette away from your lips, blowing the smoke out.

“Y’know, if you’re out here to talk to me about getting on my knees and begging Tyler for forgiveness so he can show me the blueprints and go over the plan again, I’m not gonna do it.” You looked over at him, motioning to your cigarette.

”Does it look like I’m out here to talk to you about that? You made your choice, I’m not here to coddle you like the people in there do.” You commented, shifting your head to the trailer, “They actually care about you.”

“And you?” He pressed, the end of his cigarette glowing, as he took a deep drag, his cheeks hollowing out while doing so. You shrugged.

”Me? I’m indifferent. Couldn’t care less what you choose to do, but I always have to play middleman and run interference when you get out of hand.” You lied. Even when Bjorn was being an absolute trouble maker you still had that little piece of yourself that wanted to make sure he was okay and safe, and breathing. You were hard on yourself and practically refused to admit that it was more than just a friendly concern you had for him. He rolled his eyes, pulling the cigarette away from his lips, forcing the smoke out of his mouth as he spoke.

”Yeah but you don’t have to do that.” He states.

”I’m sorry, it seems like you haven’t met your cousin Kay before, maybe I should introduce you to her sometime.” You shot back, flicking some ashes off onto the ground below you, crossing an arm over your torso. He smirked.

“I’ll repeat myself again sweetheart, since it seems like you didn’t hear me the first time. You don’t have to do that.” Your eyes shot daggers at him, watching his tongue lick his bottom lip, moistening it. “You always have the option to say no, you just choose to step in 'cause that’s the way you show you care.” He stated.

”No. That’s the way I keep the peace.” You emphasized, taking a quick drag “And fix your stupid mistakes.” You added, blowing the smoke out in the process.

“My mistakes?” He exclaimed, pointing at himself, a laugh escaping his throat, “You’re fucking ridiculous love.” You kicked around some rocks that surrounded you, as you stepped toward where Bjorn sat, watching his back straighten.

”Remember the time the mines laid you off 'cause you wouldn’t stop fucking around on the job?” He glanced away from you, looking down at the ground, the rocks crunching under your feet as you leaned into the crate he was sitting on with the side of your hip. “Tyler called, told me all about it, he was revved up because you didn’t have anything else apart from that to fall back on, asked me for a favour to help you out, and practically begged me.” You inhaled against the filter feeling a gentle burn in your lungs, breathing out a cloud of smoke. Bjorn’s eyes returned to you, watching your movements closely, examining your facial features, the way your pupils were blown out due to the dim lighting, and how your lips pursed as you continued the trip down memory lane.

“I refused to help at first, you put yourself into that situation so why should I care? Then all the others called me, and I couldn’t stand it. So I called your manager and made a trade with him to fix some equipment. He hired you back the very next day...Do you remember?” You could see his jaw clench in the dim lighting.

”Yeah. I remember. Didn’t know that was you, I thought I-“

”Was just that important?” You interrupted, your eyes meeting his shiny blue irises, catching him staring, a smirk drawing up on the corners of your mouth as you took another drag from your cigarette, blowing it off to the side out of courtesy, shaking your head. “No. He was adamant about keeping you away from the place actually. It took a lot of convincing.” Bjorn bit the inside of his cheek, tapping off the excess ash onto the rocks below him.

“The people in there knew how much you needed that job to keep you distracted. They care about you.” You took a moment to take another drag, breathing out before leaning in close to him, almost as if you were going to kiss him. “My honest recommendation for you would be to go in there and ask Tyler to go through that plan before you get yourself killed…Because that will be one mistake I won’t be able to fix.” Your voice was smooth, and sultry in a way even if the context of the conversation didn’t fit that type of tone. It made Bjorn’s stomach twist in knots hearing it change so quickly. He dragged his teeth along his bottom lip. You tilted your head a bit, before leaning in even closer, swaying to the side right when you were in close enough proximity so your mouth was at his ear. You pressed the cigarette out on the metal of the trailer, hearing a gentle hiss. Bjorn closed his eyes a disappointed sigh exiting his mouth, feeling your warm breath tickle his ear. “Thought I was gonna do something else?” You asked, leaning back to put your unfinished cigarette into your pocket, a playful smirk dusting your lips, as you shook your head, seeing his dazed eyes studying you.

“In your dreams Bjorn.”

———-

It was you, Tyler, Bjorn, Rain, Andy, and Navarro standing outside the fence that surrounded the abandoned Weyland building the next week. Kay had come down with a fever that day, so she stayed behind to recover and keep the trailer under supervision.

”Andy, you’re with me in the basement, we have to see if there’s anything valuable in the computer system. Rain, Navarro, you two stay together, search through the first two levels.” Tyler paused, looking over at you apologetically, “You and Bjorn will go to the top floor.” You nodded at him sharply, as he threw over a walkie-talkie to you. “Keep in touch, okay?” You slipped the communication device into your pocket, adjusting your headlamp.

”We will meet back here in an hour, right?” You asked, making sure all the plans were understood. Tyler nodded. You sighed, looking over at Bjorn, “Alright, let’s get going.” Motioning your head towards the hole in the fence that Tyler had stretched out a few moments before, fixing the handgun that you had strapped on your thigh. Bjorn crouched down, sneaking underneath the secret entrance as you followed closely behind. You glanced over your shoulder, giving the crew one last look before running towards the building.

From the outside, the building looked like it had been out of commission for decades, even though it had been a mere month since the corporation had let all its employees go. None of the security lights were on, and the emergency lights that were backups for the outage were barely working, this allowed the both of you to easily sneak in through the side door.

The inside of the building looked as if time had stopped within it. Papers were still strewn about the desks, coffee mugs half full with films of mold encrusting the liquid that remained at the bottom of them, and of course brochures with advertisements painted on them, promoting their featured items; insurance, synthetics, and computers.

“How’s it looking?” Tyler’s voice echoed from the walkie-talkie. You dug into your pocket and brought the mic up to your mouth.

”Looks like a building that was owned by a multimillion-dollar corporation. Making our way up to the top level now, I’ll call you if I need you.” You stated, sliding the device back into your pocket, tilting your head towards the emergency stairway.

”There’s an elevator right there.” Bjorn pointed out, you paused.

”Yeah? And this is an abandoned fucking building. If you want to risk getting stuck in there by all means go ahead…I’m gonna take the stairs.” He sighed.

”Always your way or the highway huh?” He commented, pushing by you to go towards the door, once again with you trailing behind him closely. You turned on your headlamp, and walked up in silence, your hand holding the handle of your gun, making sure you were prepared if you ran into anything. By the time you reached the top level, Bjorn was winded, hunching over his knees to catch his breath.

”My god that was a fucking workout.” He said, wheezing slightly. You stared down at him, your eyebrows raising at the way he tried to stabilize himself. It took him a few minutes to finally get his breathing under control before he stood up straight, his face darkened by the blood that had rushed to his head from the positioning, a sigh escaping his lips.

“You good now princess?” You asked mocking the nickname that he used with some people, catching him off guard.

”Yeah yeah. I’m fine.” He brushed the comment off, pushing against the door of the top floor, walking into the dimly lit room, with you following. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Bjorn murmured, you looked up at him, then followed his gaze to what he was going on about. It was a room full of desks, and different designs for synthetics, with a wide range of styles, big, and small, from human-looking to robotic and many more. One of the models stood out more than the most, one that you had never seen before. They were scattered among the rest, but you couldn’t recognize the make even though you had done extensive research on Weyland's production scheme, their goal of making the synthetics as human-looking as possible. These were extremely far away from that goal. The models looked cold and rubbery, the pale blue finish making your spine straighten. No wonder they wanted to make them look human, You thought.

“Just our fucking luck we get sent to a level that has a bunch of synthetics.” Bjorn pressed his fingers into the sides of his head, continuing to rifle off expletives as you grabbed the walkie-talkie.

”Tyler, we’re on the top level.” You informed, trying to make it quick so he didn’t catch Bjorn’s rant, but to no avail.

”What’s going on up there? What’s all the noise?” His voice was muffled, cutting in and out. You figured he might have been going down into the basement and losing connection.

”There’s synthetics up here.” You whispered, your eyes following Bjorn’s rapid, and chaotic pacing, his hands running through his hair nervously. There was a beat of silence, as you pressed down on the side of the device again, “Hello?” You mumbled, realizing that you lost connection. You slid the walkie-talkie back into your pocket, ignoring Bjorn’s panic, your eyes scanned the surrounding area, your hand clenching the gun on your leg once again. From where you were standing you could see files on each desk with prototype names written down on bright green sticky notes. You moved towards one of them, flipping it open to look at the typed notes that you assumed the developer had written out, trying to find any information you could on the state the synthetic was in.

“-Fucking stupid goddamn things are gonna kill us.” You turned your attention back to Bjorn, watching him seethe. You knew he had always had a weird thing about synthetics, and you didn’t blame him, he didn’t have a positive experience with any of them, except Andy, and that was saying something. He always toted the line of tolerating his presence, but this reaction was overboard even to his standards.

“Bjorn-” You cut in.

“I knew this was a bad idea, I fucking knew we were going to run into something like this-”

“Bjorn!” You yelled over him, causing his voice to cut off mid-sentence, stopping him dead in his tracks, “They’re not going to turn on.” You lifted the file in the air for him to look at what you were reading, “Their software isn’t even installed yet, they’re just the shells.” You threw the papers on the table, now going through the drawers, shuffling the contents around to see if there was anything that could be of use.

“H-How do you know that all of them are like that?” He stuttered out, slowly moving towards you, hoping that if anything were to happen there would be an advantage in numbers. His eyes glanced over at the synthetic you stood beside, the hazy blue skin tone practically glowing in the darkness that surrounded the both of you. A shiver went up his spine, seeing the unnaturally empty look the eyes had.

“Well, we’ll just keep checking the files and searching the desks for parts. The power is out in the building so I don’t think-.” Suddenly the sound of the bright fluorescent lights turning on interrupted your explanation, your eyes burning from your pupils trying to adjust to the harsh change, a conjoined hiss echoing between you and Bjorn. The low hum of the computers turning on grabbed your attention immediately, you glanced up at the screen to look at what was loading, not knowing what kind of codes were popping up.

“You were saying?” Bjorn commented, looking over your shoulder so he could see what you were seeing, not realizing how close he was to your exposed neck, his hot breath causing your skin to become sticky. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, ignoring the feeling, a loud locking noise echoing through the space.

“Fuck.” You muttered, running over to the emergency staircase door, pushing against it, not feeling any give to it, “Oh fuck.” Bjorn let out a forced laugh.

“We’re fucking screwed.” He leaned against the desk, his head tilted back to look at the ceiling. “We are so FUCKING screwed!” He screamed, kicking the synthetic in front of him causing it to fall onto the ground, unplugging from the computer. You flinched at his outburst.

“Bjorn calm down, please…” He looked over at you, his head shaking back and forth.

“Calm down? We are stuck in a fucking room chalked FULL of synthetics. We have no idea what their directives are, and we don’t have communications with that stupid fuckhead in the basement. Then you tell me to calm down?!” He yelled, staring down at the synthetic he had kicked. You stood against the door, grabbing the walkie-talkie out of your pocket, and pressing down on the button on the side, hands shaking from all the screaming as you kept your eyes locked on Bjorn’s.

“Tyler…Are you there?” The room's silence was deafening at that point, all you could hear was the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights. From the other end of the line all you could hear was static, the sound of something scraping against the mic. “Tyler god damn it are you there?!” You snapped, noticing a pair of eyes begin to glow a dim red in the distance, your breath hitching in your throat. Bjorn could see your facial expressions change, twisting and forming into something filled with sheer panic. All your skin had lost colour, and you turned pale, almost translucent, your breathing speeding up, as you tried to get yourself back into check. “Tyler please, if you can hear me, we are locked in on the top level…We need help.” Your voice was in a low whisper, your eyes still trained on the synthetic that began to tap around its body, trying to locate the plug that kept it connected to the computer as you slowly slid yourself down the door. The thought of their directives now coming into perspective.

“W-What are you doing?” Bjorn questioned, moving towards you, a confused look appearing on his face. You were shaking your head, watching another set of eyes glow red, and another.

“Bjorn…Get down.” You said through gritted teeth, your hand going towards your gun again. He crouched onto his knees, getting in front of you, looking at your frantic eye movements, now drawing his attention to what you were looking at.

“Fuck.” Was all he could manage to get out as one of the synthetics unplugged itself, its head slowly, methodically, turning side to side, like it was scanning the area. You were about to say something but Bjorn’s hand clasped against your mouth tightly, his eyes glaring over at you, the pointer finger of his other hand coming up to his lips, signalling for you to be quiet.

“Get under a desk.” He mouthed, “And don’t make a sound.” He added, watching you nod, his hand slowly leaving your mouth, your eyes searching his for a moment before shifting onto your knees, and crawling towards one of the nearby desks, trying your best to be as quiet as possible. Your ears were in tune with how the synthetics slowly began to move around, not making a noise, like they were trying to be as sneaky as you and Bjorn. Your movements were quick as you shoved yourself under the nearest desk, your back pressed up against the hardwood, hoping that you were hidden enough. You looked across the way, seeing Bjorn take his spot across from you, under his separate spot, his eyes trailing over to you almost like he was silently checking in. From behind the desk, you could hear two objects drop to the ground, the sound of feet shuffling entering the environment soon after. Bjorn’s gaze locked in above the desk, his jaw tightening as he observed what was going on above you.

“Guys. Are you there?” Tyler’s voice echoed through the walkie-talkie line, your hand immediately grabbing it out of your pocket to turn it off, but it was too late. The synthetic had already made its way around the desk in one swift movement.

“We are only here to help.” The modulated voice said, grabbing onto your wrist as it dragged you out from under the desk, tugging you up onto your feet, “Just hold still.” Then everything went black.

---------

“Tyler, drive for fuck sake, I don’t know if he’s breathing.” Rain’s voice ripped through the darkness.

“I’m trying!” He yelled back. You could feel your head pulsing as it lulled to the side, your neck feeling limp. You struggled to take in a breath without your lungs feeling like they were about to collapse. A whistling sound escaped your throat as you tried to breathe in and out..

“Andy what’s going on with her back there?!” Navarro’s voice echoed through the truck, sounding exhausted as the wheels hit three consecutive bumps in a row, shaking everyone in the enclosed space.

“She may have an internal bleed of some sort, I hear wheezing, and she is cold to the touch.” He responded calmly, feeling his hands run down the sides of your ribcage, a low cry escaping your lips as he touched what you presumed to be a bruise on your right side. “Rain, I don’t know what is happening.” Andy’s voice trembled slightly, turning you to your left, as a louder, more guttural cry echoed through the space, your chest feeling like it was being ripped out from your flesh. Your lungs were on fire, as your mouth opened, trying to suck in as much oxygen as possible, another whistling noise accompanying your breaths. A high-pitched moan now joined in with the noises you were making. You tried to force your eyes open, but nothing was working.

“Bjorn…It’s okay, we are all here, just calm down, you’re in the truck.” Rain explained, you could feel Andy’s fingers press down onto one area of your ribcage, tapping against them.

“Rain I think she’s got blood around her lungs, the sounds are dull, she won’t be able to breathe properly until we relieve the pressure and remove the clot-.” Andy’s words caught in his throat, as there was aggressive movement happening from in front of you.

“Bjorn, relax man, don’t move, we will take care of her.” Navarro said softly “She’s gonna be alright.” You couldn’t make out what he was trying to say, but you could hear his voice, the hoarseness of it, the jumbled wording coming out like gibberish. From the darkness you could hear things being moved around, hearing someone searching for something.

”Andy here. Take this. Do what you need to do to keep her alive.” Rain interrupted, her tone firm. You felt your sweater go up, as cold fingertips pressed into your ribcage, trying to locate the space between. He stopped momentarily, keeping his finger on the spot. You could hear shuffling, and then the sharp tip of a blade pressing into the spot Andy had found. A screech escaping your throat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Andy repeated over and over again, as he dug his finger into the slit it made, creating a bigger hole, tearing your flesh. You could feel hot sticky blood run down your skin, as he removed his finger, replacing it with something hard and plastic, threading it through.

“What the fuck are you doing to her?! Get your fucking hands off of her!” Bjorn yelled, his voice muffled by something, you couldn’t tell if it was your ears or something that was physically wrong with him that was causing his words to sound like that.

“Bjorn, he is helping her…Look at the tube.” Rain said, there was movement once again, as your chest began to feel less and less weighed down, until finally you could draw in a sharp breath, letting the air fill your lungs with ease.

————

The first thing you heard when you regained consciousness was the soft snoring of someone. It was calm, quiet, soothing in a way. You moved slightly, as pain shot up your side, a hiss escaping your throat. You could feel that you were propped up with a few pillows behind your back, as you forced your eyes open, the dim light of your cramped room coming into focus. You swallowed, taking in your surroundings, noticing Bjorn sitting at your bedside with his head tilted back pressing against the wall behind him. He looked roughed up, his face filled with scrapes that looked like they were almost healed. His lip was busted and bruised, and there was a bright red spot just below his eye, not being able to identify if it was a scar or not. If he looked like that you couldn’t imagine what kind of damage was done to you.

“B-B-Bjorn.” You breathed, your voice hollow and dry, as you reached out your hand, tapping against his leg. He hummed, his eyes slowly blinking open, his gaze meeting yours, a small smile coming up on his lips.

”Hey….Good morning.” He said in a joking tone, moving his chair so he was closer to your bedside. You swallowed loudly.

”How…How long have I…” You struggled to speak, watching him grab a glass of water off from your bedside table, holding the straw for you so you could drink, the liquid cooling the inside of your chest.

”About a week.” He responded softly, pulling the straw away from your lips, “You had a few clots in your lungs…Andy was able to remove them with this makeshift chest tube thing he created in the back of the truck, once they were out it was like you slipped into this deep sleep…We didn’t think you would wake up.” He admitted, breaking eye contact, hearing an unfamiliar sadness lacing his voice. You swallowed, nodding.

“And how long have you been sitting here?” You asked quietly.

”The entire time.” He responded, “Took a break to shower, but the majority of the time I was here, waiting.” You could feel your heart catch at the confession, he took in a shaky breath, “I was so scared.” His eyes met yours, as you noticed a tear fall down his cheek. You hadn’t seen Bjorn like this. You were around when his mother passed and even then the state he slipped into was that of rage, not tears. Your eyebrows knitted together as you reached a hand out, placing it against his stubbly cheek, catching a stray droplet that fell from the corner of his eye, “I thought I was going to lose you.” He whispered, his hand coming up to place it atop of yours. You could feel your eyes begin to fill with tears as well, the emotions flooding you quickly, overwhelming you, realizing how much Bjorn had done, how much time he dedicated to making sure you were going to have someone be there when you woke up. He took your hand off his cheek, bringing the back of it up to his lips, giving it a light peck as he held it tightly.

“Come here.” You beckoned, finding what little strength you had in your muscles to push yourself to the right side of the bed to make room for him. He looked at you, almost as if he was asking if you were sure. You patted the free space now, watching him get up and kick off his shoes, lifting the heavy covers so he could slide in next to you. His cheeks were wet with his tears as you wiped them with your knuckle, “I’m okay Bjorn, you don’t have to worry anymore.” His rough hand held your elbow gently, as he nodded, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours, the both of you closing your eyes, your hands holding his neck as you breathed him in. You laid there enjoying the silence for a moment, until you decided to lean in, placing a gentle kiss on his lips, tasting the blood that was caked on them from the cuts. His breath hitched in his throat as his hand rested on your waist. You pulled away quickly realizing what you just did.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t know what I was th-.” He shook his head.

”Please don’t apologize, I’ve wanted that for so long, don’t ruin it with an apology.” Bjorn murmured, his forehead meeting yours again. You smirked.

”I don’t want you getting the wrong idea, thinking I’m doing it to thank you.” He leaned back to look at you, his eyes scanning over your face.

”Are you doing it for any other reasons I may not know about?” He questioned.

”Maybe it is the fact that we almost died in that building without giving ourselves a chance to admit there’s something between us that we never acknowledged.” You explained, your fingertips tracing his frowny face tattoo just below his ear.

”So you feel it too, hmm?” You glanced at him, “I knew you couldn't possibly resist.” He joked, leaning forward to place another kiss against your lips, “I didn't even have to wait to have a dream about it either.” He added.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

A few days ago, you wrote about Harry's (Meghan's) red flags that would make them a security threat. Which got me thinking ... In the past 3 weeks the level of security risk for William and Catherine (and the children, by extension) must have gone up considerably.

When this forat started off as a joke, it was mostly about handling Catherine's privacy and her medical history. And someone somewhere must have realized that the London Clinic would be an easy source of security breach. I'm assuming that the hospital has top notch NDAs and everyone is expected to be absolutely discreet since many many high profile patients get admitted there. Maybe even some, whose medical diagnosis and history, if disclosed, would rightly tilt the world on it's axis.

So maybe that was this angle was not top priority, because the agencies assumed they would be discreet. Everyone also assumed that actual news agencies and media outlet wouldn't print any info obtained illegally from hospital sources, even if they had the capacity to pay the source for the info.

Nobody thought some two-bit Instagram influencers would gleefully pounce on the chance like vultures.

Another angle, and this is very very serious IMO, is that once the conspiracies started all blame was falling on William. He was the villian who had allegedly done dispicable things to C to put her in the hospital and was then hiding things. The number of threats he received from randoms of social media must have been mind boggling. He is the heir, he has to be physically protected and kept safe at all times. And doing that effectively, without addressing the rumours head on would have been very difficult. Especially if they still wanted to maintain Catherine's privacy and dignity while doing so.

(And I said dignity because how you handle your own medical diagnosis is absolutely a matter of your dignity and boundaries and space)

Not to mention, nosy people would have started stalking the kids at the schools and playtimes. If at all that happened it would never be disclosed.

I think the utmost priority for people someone like William and Catherine their safety, merely based on their constitutional significance. And handling a looming PR crisis was not at the top of the palace list. Blaming the "palace" for not handling the PR crisis better is just wrong IMO.

The palace is not some big bad shadowey shady entity. The palace is essentially the principals, their immediate staff who work for the pricipals, and that includes different agencies that work towards ensuring their safety and security at all times.

If the palace was keeping their cards close to the chest, then that means it was Catherine and William who were keeping their cards close to the chest. Mainly because as normal humans their priority was to understand and absorb what was happening, what could happen and how to plan their lives in the immediate aftermath of this devastating news.

Their priority couldn't and wouldn't be to make sure they look nice and are seen doing nice, cute things together just so some lame Karen sitting in a dark, damp, mouldy room likes them. Karens will Karen on. So catering to Karen's sensibilities will never ever be part of the palace PR and crisis management strategy.

What I don't get is why were the British press baying for William and Catherine blood. From what's come out in the last 2 days, it seems that at least some journalists had an idea that this was a very serious matter. That it was absolutely not about W being an violent abuser or a cheater or Catherine wanting to look pretty, nor was it about KP staff giving up on W+C because they are secretive exasperating, inept bosses.

It was simply about a family trying to come to terms with a devastating news that was drastically going to affect the lives of all 5 of them for a long long time. It's something that you never plan for, no matter who you are.

Knowing that, why were they so cruel, so callus. Where was their sense of nationality or even simple human decency?

They stood by Catherine when she was wrong called a racist. So why did they not stand by her when she is going through the worst time of her life emotionally and physically?

They made a mountain out of a molehill, to the point that from a security POV the powers that be concluded that the best way to mitigate the security risk would be breach her emotional safety, to ensure her and his, physical safety. I truly think this was the #1 reason on the list of reasons why they disclosed it the way they did.

Old ask from March 24th.

Simple. It all boils down to whom the press declared their enemy.

When they were defending Kate over the racism claims, they were defending her from Meghan, UK's Public Enemy #1.

When the Waleses were dealing with Kate's health crisis, the press didn't do anything, and even joined in on the attacks, because Kensington Palace was the enemy since KP refused to give updates on or access to Kate, which the press didn't like. So they stood by and piled on.

[heartnosekid]

well, friends. i’m sure a good lot of you have seen this post. i was denied today. i have to contact a lawyer and i don't even know how to begin advocating for myself outside of simply contacting the firm an ex-friend of mine used to obtain disability.

if you would rather not read the whole vent, i completely understand. but if you would still like to provide answers or support to me, here are my main issues.

i need advice from others who have been denied disability and have gone through a lawyer to obtain it. i need advice on what to do about getting started with victim advocacy. that's about it, i reckon. i love you all. my dm's are open. you will be blocked if you clown.

and yes, i realize my stim blog is not the place to talk about this. i understand, but this is my largest audience and i feel i would be a fool to not post this somewhere it may be actually received.

tw for mental health talk / long vent under the cut, particularly of the despairing kind, and also mentions of CSA / CSAM, psychosis, and my general disabilities. if this post needs more trigger tags, please let me know and i'll add them.

my whole life i have been treated as if i am not struggling because i can do the bare minimum to keep myself alive. i can survive, but never thrive, and even surviving now has become difficult. i can't feed myself regularly, my guardians do that for me. i can't stand for longer than a few minutes at a time without extreme duress and pain, which makes cleaning, showering, and going out super difficult and beyond draining. i can understand abstract concepts and certain ideas and am emotionally intelligent, but i struggle heavily with understanding money or how government works, particularly when it comes to laws and loopholes. i don't know when i'm "being had", as it were, and others have pointed this out to me throughout my adulthood. it feels as though this entire disability journey has been me "being had". they gave me something to cling on to, the possibility i may be able to receive real help, and it seems as though they basically knew the whole time they were going to deny me again. for the fourth time. i know that is unrealistic but, it does feel that way.

i wrote several full length books when i was a child / young teenager, and had two published. i won't share the titles because i have outgrown what i wrote and find them childish and frankly embarrassing, but everyone upon learning that i have written and had novels published, immediately jumps to the conclusion that i am some kind of self-sufficient, incredibly intelligent and capable person. i have never once been able to effectively take care of myself. without my guardians, i wouldn't be able to manage money, insurance, bills, cars, groceries, among other things. i don't even halfway understand how insurance on anything even works despite having been shown how it works.

i can see something, be "taught" to the best of someone's ability, and i will still not be able to learn. this has been a constant issue throughout my life, and the american public school system has continually helped these issues perpetuate. all schooling has done is teach me how to parrot back concepts and ideas, remember them for a limited amount of time before losing them to the void, and not how to fundamentally understand and learn them or utilize them in daily life. even higher education was like this, and i was not able to thrive throughout my experience with college despite making mostly okay grades (i cheated and lied a lot, okay. i'm not proud of it but i felt i had to get through or i would be severely punished). i had to a sign an agreement that i personally still do not fully understand to "obtain" my associate's degree, and i do not know why despite the fact it was explained to me, in detail. the information has not registered, and i now no longer have anyone that was involved in said agreement to explain it to me. everyone i say this to is like, "what? that doesn't make any sense." and i'm like. yeah. it doesn't, and i have zero ability to explain it to them in a way that makes sense.

i mention my associate's degree because i am sure in some form or fashion it was used against me in the disability process, since i was "able to complete higher education". also it should be noted i did an early college program. also probably has been used against me. also cheated through most of it.

people have always considered my kind of autism to be hyper competent, since it appeared that way when i was a child, despite showing several signs that i was struggling with a math-centric learning disability, called dyscalculia. i have since deteriorated to the point of barely having the knowledge a young adult should have, about how life works financially and honestly in general.

i have extreme fear about what may happen to me without proper assistance. my guardians will be able to take care of me for some time, but after that? that feels like a black hole to me. it doesn't exist nor will it while i am under-assisted, and this black hole fills me with utter despair. i try not to let it permeate my daily life, so as to not dwell in a future that doesn't exist yet and has the possibility for change. but god. it fills me with literal existential dread, and it is becoming so much more difficult to ignore the older i get.

a lot of factors have been used against me my entire life to deny me assistance, and these reasons being yet another factor has really dredged up a lot of shit from my past.

this is besides the point, but i also learned recently that CSAM was made and distributed of me when i was a child and wow. that has hit me in ways i cannot even describe. part of me is like, why was i not allowed to know after the fact, even when i became an adult? i was directly involved. why did no one tell me my abuser was convicted for counts of spreading CSAM, and that they lied directly to the court system about their inappropriate actions with me? i was disenfranchised in more ways than one by more than one person on allowance of my abuser, and i am just now hearing about it. i don't know how to deal and i don't know how to get started with victim advocacy in my area.

but at the same time, whilst being treated as severely more competent than i am, i have also been infantilized relentlessly, by nearly everyone around me. how does this make any sense. i feel incredibly stupid and uninformed and at the same time privy to things about my disabilities others are not, while not being able to effectively communicate it. i feel i am screaming and begging for help, nearly at my wits end with a lot of things, and all of it is reading as "owie booboo" to anyone who could do anything to help. i feel i am falling through the cracks, and i fear having to crawl back up through them. i fear i won't make the trek. i fear i will lose motivation and let myself rot. it feels like no one in a position of power has taken a true effort to really help me and i cannot help or advocate for myself. i am very scared.

on top of all of that stuff, i am withdrawing pretty heavily from cymbalta, experiencing heightened panic attacks every day, PNES (psychogenic non-epileptic seizures), more episodes of psychosis and hallucinating than i'm used to, all of my mental and physical issues are out of control, and now this disability stuff. i also won't be able to see a psychiatrist for...maybe a week or so more, so no bridge meds till then.

these last couple weeks have just really kicked me down. thank you for reading if you got this far. i appreciate you more than you know and i have no idea where i would be without y'all and this blog. i love you all so very much.

-ish

[pebiejeebies]

Uhh weird chat abt why I think nickel’s apology was sketchy

NICKEL.. wasn’t the one who said sorry.

AND BEFORE YOU SCREAM AT MY FACE ANYTHING LET ME SPEAK!! I HAVE A REASON!

let’s talk about clover.

remember an/some episode(s) ago when nickel went on a therapy session with clover? Right?

she told him to rethink his whole life right??

NICKEL DIDNT RETHINK HIS LIFE. CLOVER DID.

It was all clover. Think about it

she’s lucky. She gets whatever she wants because of it too.

if she WANTS nickel to be friends with balloon, she will WISH that he becomes friends with him.

WHICH MEANS. there’s a high chance this whole apology was all just clover’s luck

we’ve seen how that stupid box was forced to do something it mentally/physically couldn’t. And it ended up doing what clover wanted (or at least keep her safe)

think about it. One episode, therapy with clover, next episode? Magically becomes the most nicest man ever and supports balloon while giving him his own space.

His apology felt so off, at first I was like YOOOO NICKLOON!! But in reality it was all clover, it’s just so off to me man.. maybe I just hate nickel or smth

But really think about it, there’s no way ANY person or object would do a full mental switch up THIS EASILY?! I took YEARS to stop abusing my sisters mentally and physically. There’s no way a fucking month will change him this quick. TRUST. ME.

I was as horrible as nickel and even worse too, it took years of struggle and patience to obtain what I have today! But nickel? NICKEL? NICKEL?!?! makes the luck do it all for him.

and that made me so fucking angry. you made me question myself and why I took so long to change, you are making other people think change is THAT EASY. you PEICE OF SHIT. (Not you dw, I mean AE)

Literally to the point I feel like nickel was like some sort of puppet or smth

Clover: do this

Nickel: alright

AND EVEN WHEN HE DOES IT ISNT EVEN HIS FUCKING CHOICE. IT ISNT. ITS HER LUCK. NOT NICKEL. now nickel feels like he fucking achieved something, when it was all clover.

LIKE COME ON. you made the fandom happy over something that could potentially be a lie?? There’s no way he magically becomes all cute and sweet and STAYS like that after her luck goes away. There’s just no way.

and ofc it had to be clover, it was all just to say “Oh he changed so quick because of—“ EXACTLY. they are cowards. they don’t wanna make the character slowly struggle and try to get better

they wanna get to the point and that’s it

so everyone goes WOAHHHH NICKLOON!! YAYY!! (no hate to the nickloon shippers btw) without taking so long, because they don’t know how to write any characters without some big flaw

So let’s just make clover “help” him!! Cause she’s lucky!! Yay!! And he can just change in a day or two!1 YAYY!!!/s

HERES ANOTHER POINT TOO. SHE CAME OUT OF THE FUCKING BLUE IN THAT EPISODE. “oh I just wanted to be a detective” yeah sure ae. Sureee… sure thing mf. Just solve one fucking word puzzle game and call yourself a detective. Idiots. (Again, pointed towards ae)

take a moment and think about this. Because maybe I’m just wrong, I’m usually wrong anyways. I just need to know I can’t be the only one who thinks that clover was the one who apologized, not nickel.

But for once I feel like I’m right about this, and if I am.. AE im fucking onto you. You fucking cowards.

(and before you ask, no. I’m not okay. I hate how they made me question myself. And I hate how they’re saying it’s so easy to change, and I hate how they’re so lazy about someone’s personality shift)

I don’t hate the animators. I don’t hate the storyboarders, I don’t hate the voice actors, I don’t hate ANYONE in ae. EXCEPT these fucking writers. There are so many better writers out there with ACTUAL ideas and ACTUAL talent, and experience and so much more about life and personality.

even I can write better characters without even planning it out. Imagine. Skill issue fr.

Please note that this isn’t targeted to you either, your opinion on this is valid, so is mine. Let’s keep this chat friendly though.

[tthevoic3s]

From Blood Births Life and Death - Chapter 4

Epic Prank Gone Wrong: No Clickbait

Word count: 1,881

MASTERPOST

Any person with a modicum of common sense would tell you not to even attempt to do something like this.

Anyways, Maya Strauss did.

To be completely honest, she wasn’t even that sure herself to risk that much, but now that she decided it there was no turning back. At least, that’s what her stubborn mind kept telling her. A person who is sure of their ideas, sure to be in the right, 100% sure, can’t hesitate. She thought, as she sneaked past the cameras, her steps quick while she tried to disappear in the darkness of the hall.

She was personally impressed about how she managed to sneak past the curfew, showing off an innocent angel face as the soldiers checking her unit called her name. She was there, and for once she wasn’t causing trouble. At least so they thought, fools.

They even double checked, as she expected. She was one of the main targets of the soldiers because, since her father died, her favorite hobby was causing countless problems to the military.

And don’t think it was some sort of “broken traumatized child has an unhealthy coping mechanism”. Hell no. She was doing it on purpose. She was sure as hell that her father hadn’t “died” on a mission.

Her father, nobody less than the leader in charge of the project, was openly opposing the colonialist propaganda of some of the highest military officers. What a strange coincidence he unfortunately died some weeks after the referendum to decide if, or if not, to conquer the land humans were already exploiting without the consent, nor even the knowledge of its rightful inhabitants.

And now, while her father was six feet under and the military leaders were planning god knows what atrocity against any moral law, Maya wanted to prove his father was actually assassinated. That his death wasn’t a pure casualty, and she wanted the guilty ones to pay for the crime.

Fuck ‘great America’, freedom, economy, the indomitable human spirit or whatever the fuck the new leaders were indoctrinating people with. She wanted justice.

Now, the step between wanting a thing and actually acquiring it is huge.

And maybe for Maya, that step was longer than her leg. But she knew how to handle the situation: like she always did, the solution was not giving a fuck about the risks and go on as her stubborness suggested her. Too bad, because Maya would have taken 1000 more equally long steps to obtain what she wanted.

As an example, returning to the night before the disaster, maybe sneaking into one of the archives and stealing documents about her father’s presumed last mission, maybe was slightly hazardous. And, nonetheless, it would have gone against rules number 1 and 2.

But, as we said before, Maya Strauss couldn’t give a flying fuck about the risks.

Yep, totally the same thing she thought as she heard voices and steps echoing in the nearby hall. Okay, maybe all this nonchalance might have led to her miscalculating something, but not anything irreparable, right? Right?

Maya sat down quickly, hiding with her back pressed against one of the archive drawers.The metal was cold against her skin, and she tried to remain as silent as possible while hoping the patrolling guards would just go away.

“Camera 4 reported movement in the hall, you two go check in the archive”

She cursed under her breath as she heard the soldier’s voice, clenching her fists around the thin document folder she didn't even have the time to read. A drip of sweat rolled down her forehead as she cautiously ravaged in her backpack to find “plan B”. And by plan B, she meant a molotov bomb she prepared, you know, just in case. You could say she was quite… a resourceful young lady.

She peeked from behind the drawer chest and scanned the area. She just needed to wait until the soldier opened the door…

and took a step inside…

and then, just…

CRASH

As fire spread quickly on the ground creating a safe barrier - yet precariously momentary - she ran to the nearest source of freedom she could take sight of: the window. She catapulted herself outside - maybe not the smartest move but she was at the first floor anyways. She fell on the grass with a soft thud, rolling on her elbows to cushion the impact with the ground, the confused shouts of the soldiers still hearable in the distance. She shoved the scattered documents in her bag and stood up instantly, her knees still shaking for the adrenaline. It didn’t take long for her to hear the hurried steps of soldiers running outside.

Plan A: Failed, but not completely. She still had the documents.

Plan B: Fired.

Plan C: Ther was no plan C. Well, it was now clear that her plan C was to START RUNNING, for fuck’s sake!

“Hey! You! Hands up, stay still!”

Seriously - Maya thought - did that soldier really think he could obtain any kind of obedience, even the slightest, from the same girl who had just thrown him and his squad a molotov bomb and launched herself off the window. If the situation hadn’t been that serious, she would have made fun of them. But now, every inch of her body was focusing on darting the fuck away from there, jumping off the iron railing and running right into the forest.

And by this, she broke rule number 3.

What a great night ! Building up whatever the female equivalent to dad lore was. Mom lore didn't sound good.

She ran and ran through the dense underbrush, the trees seeming impossibly tall above her. She clutched her hand around her bag, trying to protect the precious documents while she crouched and jumped, trying to get away from the chasing squad of soldiers.

Them, on the other hand, seemed to be more hesitant. Getting Maya back to the colony was an absolute priority, possibly along with arresting her, but she knew what she was doing and this put them in huge pressure.

She knew that she was trying to reach the edge of the forest, which led to the giant village humans shouldn’t have ever approached. The golden rule, remember?

Thus, she headed right there. It was reckless, for sure, but she wasn’t scared, at least, she didn’t feel like it. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or the rational fact that it was late night and the possibilities of getting seen were almost none.

The soldiers weren’t so calm about it.

“Shall we call backup?!” One of them shouted to the other two, holding the walkie talkie in his belt, ready to snatch it and use it.

“Shut up Thompson, our priority is to not let her enter the darn village! If she does, we’re fucked, so run!”

The way was uneven and the chase was challenging, since, despite her young age, Maya was way more able to move swiftly through the dense underbrush, leaving the soldiers behind.

The younger soldier who asked the previous question - Thompson - gritted his teeth and kept running alongside the other two, as the faint lights of the village were starting to be visible in the distance.

“Fuck..”

Without a second thought, Thompson grabbed his rifle, holding it firmly with both hands.

”No! What are you doing!?-“

BOOM

and he fired.

The other soldiers watched as Maya’s distant figure staggered, still trying to run away before hitting the ground. The bullet hit and perforated her right leg, leaving her now unable to run. Great aim for a young recruit, Thompson.

The echo of the shot resonated loudly through the forest, definitely shattering the calm silence that embraced it. And it wasn’t the only noise.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” One of the senior soldiers shouted, violently snatching the weapon from the younger’s hands, making him fall to the ground.

“Are you crazy!? You know we can’t shoot outside the barrier without an explicit consent!”

Thompson stayed on the ground, his arms slightly trembling as he looked up at his companion. “B-But she was about to get in the-”

“DOES IT MATTER? BECAUSE SHE HAD ALREADY CROSSED THE LINE WHEN YOU - he clenched his fists around the younger soldier’s uniform - WHEN YOU, STUPID PIECE OF SHIT, FIRED!” He sighed, sweat dripping from his forehead. “If someone… if one of them heard you…”

The third soldier, who had stayed silent so long, interrupted. “She’s there, she’s already dead for us. Now, let’s get back to the headquarters and report this shit to the General. ”

The other two stared at him in almost shock, Thompson still sitting on the ground.

“What are you waiting for? Hurry up.”

The older soldier threw the rifle back to the young recruit, who clutched it hesitatingly and finally got up, following his companions through the uneven path of the forest.

And Maya, who, despite her wound, managed to get to the nearest path, laid there, feeling her consciousness slip away second by second.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

As the three soldiers finally reached the headquarters again, it had started raining. They exchanged a glance before surpassing the security section, heading directly to the main hall, where, not so unexpectedly, the General was waiting for them.

He was leaning against a metal table, his broad arms crossed and a stern expression that only accentuated his already sharp features.

“General Higgs-”

“Where’s Maya Strauss?” He cut off abruptly, this not unexpected too, since Scott Higgs was known for everything except for being kind nor patient towards his subordinates.

His icy eyes focused on the three soldiers standing before him, his brow furrowing as he scanned their silhouettes.

“So, Smith? Are you gonna answer me or…?” His tone became sharper and even more impatient as the senior soldier - now we know his name - straightened his posture and searched for the slightest flicker of composure to face him.

Smith finally found the courage to look Higgs in the eyes, and replied, even slightly stuttering.

“She’s.. with the highest probability.. dead, sir.”

“With the highest probability, hm?” Scott raised his eyebrow in suspicion, his glare sharpening. “This means she crossed the barrier, right, Smith?”

“Yes, sir.” He nodded, now bowing his head.

Scott sighed sternly, almost holding back a grin. Shaking his head, he reached for an empty folder placed on the desk, while his fingers drummed on the surface rhythmically and ominously.

“And what about the documents Strauss stole, huh? Did you get them before she… “died”, right?” he asked, his tone dripping with dark sarcasm.

The silence that followed was a reply itself, at least for general Higgs.

He grinned, slamming his hand on the desk, the sound echoing in the whole room.

“I want the whole area from here to the border completely patrolled. - he shouted. - Day and night, until you find signs of that pest, whether alive or dead. I look forward to seeing her back here, rotting in jail, as soon as possible. And I want those documents back.”

Before heading out the main hall, he glanced back at the three soldiers.

“Oh, and go call Junior. With the… how did you say, Smith… highest probabilities, there will be a task for her.”

And with that, Scott Higgs disappeared, shutting the door behind him.

[not-so-lost-after-all]

There Are Worse Things I Could Do

This little thing is inspired by Dicken's A Christmas Carol and visions of the past, the present and the future - all of them dark. After all, a romance with Astarion can go so horribly, horribly wrong...

Warnings: Nothing major, I believe. Canon appropriate violence and angst.

Word count: 3000

---

It's pouring cold, almost freezing rain the whole afternoon and the day is dark and gloomy, so everyone retreats to their tents. They all have their own things to ponder, after all, as they're getting closer and closer to the city. Esipre is bone tired, as it seems she has nothing to show for her troubles except for the pile of corpses. Her companions put so much faith in her but ask so few questions. Perhaps she should run, it's still time...

She's observant and that was what actually more often than not made her the leader of whatever group she was part of - that doesn't mean she decided it's essential to keep them all alive. Take Astarion for example. It would be so easy to make him do her bidding, everytime, all it takes is a gentle push.

And yet... she treated him with kindness, like a feral cat who is most certainly won over through food and warm touch. She was a fool. They both were. During their first night in the forest, she was drunk but the second time she realized he was just going through the motions he did countless times before. Squeezing her nipple, then kissing her neck, his learned moans of pleasure. He had to do all kinds of work for his old master, Esipre gathered. She tried to please him too, as she learned during her short time at one brothel, and now she has to bitterly laugh about what they both were doing. Surely he must have noticed too but neither of them spoke about it.

When she offered him her blood on the fourth day in the Shadow-cursed Lands because she couldn't stand the thought of him starving, he gave her one surprisingly soft look and quietly thanked her. Esipre did it two more times and each time it took a bigger toll on her. Her fingers were randomly going numb, her mind hazy and the bite marks took longer to heal. Her vampire had the hilarious idea of offering her sex again.

"Oh please, be serious for a moment," she said sternly. "Don't insult my intelligence. Or yours. I'm not even what you want. Go flirt with Wyll or talk to Lae'zel about Soně glorious slaughter."

That wretched land was behind them but even almost a tenday later she mostly avoids him. She looks at her still unnaturally cold fingers and sighs. Perhaps it's been a mistake after all. She doesn't need distraction anymore, she needs to focus. Maybe they are both broken but some broken things are just too sharp. Perhaps he's a broken piece too but from a different puzzle.

Esipre is still standing in the entrance of her tent, watching the dark sky as the raindrops slowly turn into unexpected snow flakes. Then she notices her vampire eying her from across the camp, silently asking for her invitation. She quickly ponders it, then nods gently. Dammit, she can't ignore him forever.

Inside her tent, she is greeted by the silver light of the moonlanter. Esipre immediately notices two ripe red apples on her bedroll. There's also something artistically arranged lying under the apples - a beautiful wine red shawl embroidered with black thread. She kneels and takes the fabric in her hands with stupid smile on her face.

"You like it?" Astarion is kneeling right next her without her even noticing. And to her amusement, he grins like a proud cat.

"Of course. Was there crime involved while obtaining this beauty?"

"Ah. Maybe a little crime but nothing you should bother your lovely head with, darling." He grows more serious and suddenly seems to avoid her eyes. "You're almost as pale as I am and I can't exactly give you any warmth. Thought this could be a gift you wouldn't refuse. I don't want to lose my favorite food, you know."

Esipre presses the shawl to her chest, accepting it. No matter how impossible or annoying or irritating he can be, he's the first one who made her feel something so strongly in decades.

"It's alright when it's with you, my bloodthirsty friend," she says warmly. "Tomorrow you'll have the chance to rip throats again and leave my blood for the battlefield again. But thank you anyway." She feels a faint blush in her cheeks. She hasn't received any gifts since she was a child.

Astarion opens his mouth to say something but changes his mind. Instead he just takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. Then he brushes his lips over the soft skin on her wrist but Esipre doesn't even flinch.

They end up lying under two blankets although they have nothing to really offer to each other right now. It's foolish, she thinks, but she always turns to him like a moth to the fire.

The parasite behind her eye is especially restless tonight, probably getting upset that she hasn't used its power enough recently. As she's half asleep with a headache, the snowflakes are starting their silent dance in the darkness outside.

---

The first vision is from her past. Esipre feels the presence of her dream guardian in her mind. He looks and sounds like her noble father and the irony isn't lost on her. Papa never protected and in her head she knows that but she's always been bothered by her treacherous heart and her heart can't accept the truth.

It's still cold outside and it's snowing. Her body is her own but she's twelve years old. A pitiful dirty thing still dressed partly in her silky dress. Her mother tried to bribe her nurse to poison Esipre three nights ago and since then the girl has tried to ask family friends for protection. Her father sent a word, surely. But they all refused to shield her, this evening she visited the last person from her past.

Her heart is sinking and all she wants to do is to cry but she already knows that a crying girl on a dark street would meet the same fate as a noisy baby bird fallen out of its nest.

Suddenly there are two men moving across the street's corner. One of them is a heavily drunk human with tanned skin who can barely speak or walk. The other one is visibly much more collected silver haired elf. "Sure, sure, darling, let's hurry," says the elf impatiently and tries to push the human. It's enough for the other man to fall. "Fuck!" The elf kicks him in frustration but Esipre also senses some desperation in his voice.

Then he notices her and inclines his head. There's no warmth in his unsettling red eyes, nor his cruel smile. "Hello, little bird." She is preparing her muscles to run.

Her adult mind already knows how it's going to go. He's going to offer her some food and she's going to take the hook. Her child mind is scared and hungry and already ready to give up because she's weak and she knows it, everyone takes a look at her and knows it. Just a clueless lost girl standing there in the winter's night.

The elf takes her to the palace where she has her last meal with the man whose name her father mentioned several times in disgust before. Lord Szaar. He simply watches her, bemused, before suddenly taking her hand and piercing her wrist. She cries in pain and tries to free herself, kicking, screaming. Cazador Szaar just laughs at her feeble attempts, taking gulp after gulp. In the end, her cries turn into whimpers and her limbs go numb - it's like freezing to death on the street…

Except none of that happened. The elf with the silver curls grunts and grabs the lying human by the hand, roughly sweeping the pavement with his back. Espre runs to hide. Weak, helpless.

It doesn't  have to be this way, you know she hears the voice of her guardian in her head.

---

The next vision is quick and brutal.

She sees Astarion and his fangs above her neck and quickly pushes him away. She doesn't think, only acts on instinct, and they're both equally shocked when she plunges a wooden stick into his chest.

Esipre is sprayed with his thick blood and she thinks she'll never forget the look of betrayal he gives her when he's falling to his knees. "I'm sorry," she mutters. She's confused and angry - at him, at herself?

But no, he indeed is a vampire just as she suspected. Vampires do have the eyes of a wolf. Even their hearts are that of a wolf. Their beauty is just a sign of their sickness - the lack of a soul.

She leaves with the others in the morning, leaving his dead body behind. If any of them bothered to connect with his tadpole, they would know. Only Esipre tries, about an hour after they continue on their way. That vampire isn't really dead, just paralyzed. Not that it matters because like all the others, even his tadpole decides to leave when he's of no further use. He feels it crawling out of his eye socket and it makes his stomach turn. Hers too.

When his parasite is finally gone, his skins starts to burn and turn to ash and all he can do is to scream in his head. At the back of his mind, there's an insane laughter that at least he's dying free. His last thought is of the home with green doors from his childhood and the gulls over the stormy sea.

-That was empowering and felt good, no?

-No, it honestly was a bit… pathetic.

Esipre senses a wave of frustration from her guardian, she' lightheaded and everything goes black.

---

"I could have killed you, you bloody fool!"

And yet, when he boldly asks her to give him her blood freely, she relents, trusting that he's not foolish enough to harm her.

His fangs are like shards of ice into her neck and she grits her teeth. That's what she gets for her compassion but oh well, a bit of her blood is far more important for him than for her. Her pulse quickens and her heart is racing as it must pump her blood into two bodies now.

"Enough," Esipre says sharply when her mind becomes hazy.

But he doesn't stop, perhaps he even can't anymore. She tries to raise her rand but it's already too heavy, so heavy that Esipre just brushes the vampire's shoulder. Astarion pins her down and bites deeper into her neck.

"Astarion!" She tries to shout to wake the others but only some low screeching escapes her mouth. "You bastard..." Her voice is barely above a whisper. In the end, her death isn't painful, it's like falling into a dark cold lake and descending slowly to the bottom.

Her spirit lingers in the material world for some time out of spite. In the morning, Astarion is long gone. The others are bickering and almost leave her body just lying there but Wyll, bless his heart, volunteers to dig a shallow grave for her. It's actually Gale who saves the day by sacrificing himself. She has nothing to do with their victory, oh no.

As for Astarion, he's tortured to death by the Gur and later resurrected by his master only to be sacrificed in some hellish ritual. Used and discarded as always. If her soul wasn't on its way to the hells because she never got the chance to redeem herself, she would have felt a slightest glimmer of pity for him.

So this is what you prefer? Remember I tried to warn you every step of the way.

---

The next vision follows and this time there's nothing familiar about it. Surely it must be the future? It's all so confusing. The dim red light and the glass windows are strange and so is the feeling.

She took the power, for him and for herself. That much she is sure of.

Her lungs aren't working and when she tries, she remembers her last breath, then the quick torturous bang of her heart and... silence. It did hurt but the thought of him blatantly lying to her and that it's just the beginning? It hurt even more.

Months turned into years and years into decades. This was a moment to celebrate the death of duke Ravengard - a name that somehow ring a bell - and Astarion ordered that everyone should be merry. Did he order the murder of the duke too? Many things he just doesn't tell.

This celebration at the palace is one of hundreds she has attended, it was still the same on repeat. An eternity of fucking strangers in increasingly "creative" ways and watching him do the same (she vaguely remembered he thought himself a whore or was that just another trick of her mind so her delusions aren't shattered?). Of ever more unhinged bloody games. Of forcing people to pretend to love you. She blames herself for that. Now she understands that Astarion holds it against her too.

She was his first and favorite pet and perhaps if she thought clearly in that moment once upon time, she would understand that some people would find this existence a blessing but not her. Why are there scars made by a silver dagger on her hands and breasts like some mark of ownership when she's supposed to be powerful?

Esipre squeezes the hand of her lord and smiles at him like so many times before. Smiles as she's picturing the last words she's ever going to tell him before killing him tonight and taking his place. But of course he doesn't sense it, he's looking right through her.

All that time she is thinking: "Can you really see me now? Don't I remind you of someone? Someone you killed?

---

In her mind, she is yelling at her guardian. 

Enough! You advise me to take power? I will give you more than you bargained for!

Esipre is viciously pushing and kicking him in her head with all the power her tadpole is giving her and surprisingly, she is able to show him what she likes instead.

So she actually did that. She is the Absolute. Sitting on some goddamned throne in a dark massive room that resembles a temple. Everything she deserves for the life stolen from her and lost decades - Astarion would be proud. And he is standing next to her with hand on her shoulder. She helped him to ascend and Esipre still remembers his smile when she took the power, accepting her as his equal. And she is a benevolent ruler who only punishes those who don't understand her vision. 

What she sees should stop here. But Esipre knows that would be a lie. In the future, she turns her head to her consort and Astarion smiles at her with that smile they both know is fake. She now knows that she compelled all of her friends. Compelled him too and when digging deep enough into his mind, she finds out that she broke whatever was left of his heart and his soul. She gave him hope, gave him power, only to replace his former master - and this time there are no illithids to save him. Telling him he can say no but she is doing so with a wicked smile. Astarion is still performing - he knows it and knows she knows and she knows he knows that too. And sometimes when she looks over her shoulder and the curtain is down, his face and eyes are unmoving and dead tired. Like a man who got his second chance and ruined that one just as surely.

The giant hall is empty except the two of them - or so she thought. A bright lightning from one of the balconies hits her right side and strikes her down. Her body feels like burning as she's lying on the stone floor. HELP ME! She orders Astarion.

She senses no resistance from him, of course, and as she turns her head in his direction when he's not coming to her rescue, she sees him chained by his hand to the leg of her throne. The handcuffs are made of silver and he's struggling against them as they're burning his flesh. Astarion can't touch them, of course, only let them burn through his hand. But by then, she'll be long dead. 

He is complicit in all this, she realizes immediately. Even in her pain, she can't help but nod to him with respect. As she loses consciousness, she can hear him laughing. The last thing she sees is him glancing at the night sky and its stars through the glass ceiling. “Make a wish,” he laughs. He laughs until he cries…

Esipre is in the dark again and her visitor is no longer with her. Before the connection is no longer here, she can catch a glimpse of yet another visions. She dies grey haired and wrinkled in the arms of her vampire and asks him to forgive her for failing him. She still prefers this vision. Then she sees herself dying in a pool of blood hand in hand with Astarion after what she suspects was an ambush. His eyes are not ruby red but emerald green. It is alright though, as this is still several centuries into the future…

She is half conscious and aware that she's sleeping in her tent, feeling cold tears in the corners of her eyes. 

---

To her surprise, Astarion stayed with her the whole night for the first time. “Morning, sweetheart. It was an uneasy night, I suppose?”

“Just some nightmares.” Her heart is not so heavy just looking at him. “And it made the things I want a little bit more clear.”

By the sunrise the thin layer of snow outside has already melted. During the day she notices Astarion giving her some sort of guilty look.

“Do you have a moment?” is the first thing he tells her after everyone else went to sleep.

There's this strange vulnerability in his expression and Esipre already knows that whatever he's about to say, she's going to listen with an open mind.

Tagged:

@spacebarbarianweird

@lirotation

[its-been-rose]

Lmao my fic is most likely slightly historically inaccurate but we balling

Pre-1971, the age of marriage without parental consent was actually different for men and women in most states. For women it was usually 18 and for men it was 21 (they could go to war but how dare you drink or get married without permission)

HOWEVER Iowa state legislation (yes I am reading old Iowa state law at 1 am) states that if the woman is under 18 AND the man is under 21 they need permission from their fathers (or mothers if fathers are dead or incapacitated). So idk what would happen if one was of age and the other wasn’t (strictly speaking about older teens, there were hard lines under like 15)

So there’s a chance Jason would’ve actually needed legal permission to get married which on the whole doesn’t really throw too much of a wrench into things considering I wrote them as being present at the courthouse, but the bit where they said “we don’t need your permission we’ll do it anyway” would be slightly untrue. However again I have no idea if her being over 18 made it fine.

Also 21 was technically the age of majority but apparently people living on their own (either being kicked out or just moving out) even at 18 was very normal in those days, especially in the rural Midwest where there was a cultural expectation to be independent and housing was actually obtainable. I’m not sure if disowning your kid at that age or denying them shelter was illegal (to add that children’s rights also weren’t very good at this time) but in any case I don’t think Marie would even WANT to go back after what her parents did (rather didn’t do) about George.

[baileypie-writes]

Platonic story about the reader bringing back Dark Dream after the events of Yes! 5

Idk I couldn’t think of a better request ;-;

A/N ~ Sure! I actually love this idea! Hope you enjoy!

~Revival~

Dark Dream + Former Villain!Reader

~~~🖤~~~🖤~~~🖤~~~

Fandom: Yes! Pretty Cure 5, Yes! Pretty Cure 5 the movie

Fanfic Type: Oneshot

Reader: Gender neutral, former Nightmare employee

Relationship: Platonic

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,213

Synopsis: After reviving Dark Dream, you finally gave her the second chance she was promised. And the first thing she wanted to do was to reunite with Nozomi.

Warnings: Death mentioned(Dark Dream’s), Nuts/Natts featured, Coco mentioned, kind of rushed because I had to stop it from getting too long

~Masterlists~

~Yes! Pretty Cure 5 Masterlist~

~~~🖤~~~🖤~~~🖤~~~

Curiosity can be either a really good, or a really bad thing. It can end in fortune, or it can end in disaster. Many people avoid acting on their curiosity due to the fear of it turning out bad. But you decided to take the risk.

You used to work for the company Nightmare. Because of that, you did a lot of things you’re not proud of. For one, you fought a group of teenage magical girls to try and obtain the Dream Collet. Just the memory of trying to defeat them makes you cringe. But you’re glad you still keep in touch with them. After all, they’re the reason you were able to turn a new leaf.

But even though you’ve left the evil company, you still harbor some magic abilities. And with them, you decided to run a little experiment.

A while ago, the Pretty Cure went to the Mirror Kingdom and had to fight dark versions of themselves. Each one was made from a crystal. Cure Dream had managed to befriend her evil counterpart, Dark Dream. But Dark Dream ended up sacrificing herself for her, shattering the crystal.

You’ve always wondered what would happen if Dark Dream was able to live her second chance. So after a quick trip to the Mirror Kingdom, you came back home with a handful of crystal shards, and a crazy idea.

~~~~

You never would’ve guessed it would have taken this long. Nearly three whole months and 107 attempts later, a very puzzled Cure Dream doppelgänger stood in the exact same spot the shards used to be. You huffed tiredly, convinced that you’d used every ounce of magic left in you. But you still smiled at the fruit of your labor.

“What’s going on? Who are you?” Dark Dream asked, understandably confused. “How am I alive?” She stared down at her hands, moving them to confirm that she was in fact living.

“I’ll gladly answer all of those questions right now.” You chuckled.

You provided a quick, yet informative summary of your experiment. Dark Dream listened intently, her wide eyed expression never faltering. She was still processing being alive once again, and now she had even more to take in. But she knew she couldn’t bear being left without any answers, so she just dealt with the shock.

“And here you are now.” You finished with your explanation. You folded your arms, and exhaled loudly, truly in disbelief about your success.

You allowed the girl a few moments to think and process everything. It was only fair, after all. You prepared yourself for any future questions she may ask, but what she did end up asking was not something you were expecting.

“Where’s Nozomi?”

After taking a moment to get over the unexpected question, you gave your answer. “Well, it’s the afternoon of a weekday. So she’s probably at school. In fact, she should be getting out soon.”

“I want to go see her.” She declared. And by the sound of it, she definitely wasn’t asking. So you figured that if she was gonna go, you’d rather her not go alone.

“Alright. I don’t know where she goes to school, but I do know where she goes after. I’ll take you there. Oh yeah, but you should de-transform first.” You pointed to her outfit. She looked at herself as if she didn’t notice. But she quickly did as you said, reverting back to her normal self. She still looked exactly like Nozomi. But the way she dressed was quite different. She wore a reddish, gothic lolita style outfit, complete with black lipstick.

Not wanting to waste any time, you simply ignored her appearance, and led her out of the house. And with Dark Dream trailing closely behind, you headed straight to Natts’ House.

~~~~

After explaining everything to Natts, he very reluctantly allowed Dark Dream to hang around. Though, he still watched her like a hawk. But knowing his trust issues, that was understandable. You luckily didn’t have to deal with Coco or Milk as well, as they had gone to Palmier Kingdom for business. So the only thing you now needed to do was wait for the Pretty Cure.

After a very awkward ten or so minutes, the door opened with the jingle of a bell. “Natts!” A cheerful voice called out.

“Up here.” He responded from the upstairs lounge.

You heard loud footsteps run up the stairs, then Nozomi finally saw who was there waiting for her. She froze, dropping her school bag, as well as her jaw.

“Whaaaaat?!” She exclaimed very loudly, practically shaking the building.

After locking eyes with her, Dark Dream smiled softly, and stood up. “Hello, Nozomi.”

At that time, the other girls had made it upstairs to see what all the fuss was about. They were just as bewildered to see who was there as their friend was.

Nozomi ran to her, grabbing her hands in hers. “It really is you! But how?”

“I revived her. It took a ton of trial and error, and even more power, but I did it.” You proudly explained.

“But why?” Rin questioned.

You simply shrugged. “I was just curious.” This made her give you a judgey look.

“I can’t believe it! This is so cool!” Nozomi said, bouncing up and down a bit from excitement. “I promised you a second chance, and now you finally have it!” She pulled Dark Dream in for a hug. “We can finally be friends too!”

While Dark Dream was initially taken aback from the embrace, she smiled from Nozomi’s words.

“But what do we even call her? Dark Dream isn’t a normal name.” Rin mentioned.

“Oh, yeah.” Nozomi said.

Everyone thought for a moment. Then Urara came up with something. “Oh! What about ‘Nonomi’? It sounds like ‘Nozomi’!”

Natts scoffed. “Well that’s just-“

“I have no issue with that name.” Dark Dream interrupted before he could voice his opinion.

“Okay! ‘Nonomi’ it is!” Nozomi said happily. “It’s decided!” And to go with her catchphrase, she thrusted her whole arm upwards, pointing into the air.

“This is all cute and everything, but where is she gonna stay?” Rin asked, acting as if she was the only one with common sense.

“She can stay with me. I have the room. I mean, if it’s alright with her.” You said.

“Okay. I have no problem with that.” The newly named Nonomi responded.

“And you can go to school with us!” Nozomi said, clearly ecstatic.

“What’s ’school’?”

“Oh boy…” Rin sighed.

Karen placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be fine. There are plenty of us to teach her everything she needs to know.”

“Oh! And I have plenty of books I can lend her!” Komachi added.

Natts sighed. “This is all just too much. I think I might close the shop for the day.”

He wasn’t wrong. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. Especially for Nonomi. She’d been revived by you, reunited with Nozomi and gained a new home and life all in one day. But she was completely ready for it. Nozomi had offered her friendship and a second chance, but her death prevented her from living it. But all thanks to you, she’s now able to. And she couldn’t be more happy.

~~~🖤~~~🖤~~~🖤~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[fansids]

Alright, I gotta lotta thoughts on s4, but this is the main thing I'm not particularly happy with.

It's not very organized, I'm writing as I'm thinking so I apologize beforehand.

Spoilers obvi.

I really don't appreciate how Sun Wukong's character has been treated up until this point.

Look, I don't mind the "perfect, heroic mentor is actually not always so perfect and heroic and made mistakes that are still effecting the world now" like fine. Fine. But the way the show goes about it makes SWK look like a worse and worse person. It crosses the line of him making mistakes, to just being generally careless and not learning.

I mean: leaving Xiaotian in s2 and inadvertently neglecting him in the process, keeping the 4th ring a secret in s3 until it's too late, being the reason there was a fourth ring to begin with, the whole Macaque thing that the show seems to be leaning more towards SWK being in the wrong for, and his whole deal with his sworn brothers in s4.

It was already irritating in season 3, especially when he's shown to get yelled at by Xiaotian & Zhu Dachu then continues his usual way, often being unhelpful. I get that Xiaotian is the mc, but like c'mon. SWK is depowered, there are like a million ways to sideline him without doing that.

Season 4 is especially egregious as someone who's read jttw because the Lion, Elephant, and Peng are all terrible villains who spent a good amount of their time eating innocent people. I'm not sure why the show especially seems to be insistent on making the Azure Lion sympathetic and one that feels bad for trapping SWK...then again Macaque exists. You know what no, I don't see why they are insistent on doing that when Macaque exists. He may be one too many times, but once was enough.

Jttw aside, if in Azure Lion's point of view SWK willingly betrayed them and all the "good" they stood for, then trapped his other brothers for thousands of years, and before that was happy to join heaven's courts for like 20-30 years, then I don't know why he'd ever show that level of concern for him. If that happened to me, it would be monkey season, straight up.

(also the fact that he said he'd let SWK go when they completed what they wanted to, I call absolute bullshit. Even if he did feel bad, releasing SWK at any point in time would be a god awful idea)

From what s4 has shown, I think what the show writers wanted to do was build a parallel between Xiaotian and SWK, both having made mistakes that endangered the world and their loved ones as well as Xiaotian learning that his hero is just as human (for lack of a better term) as him. But the execution is lacking as a lot of Xiaotian's mistakes are not really his fault.

DBK taking his staff? It's not like he handed it to him.

Spider Queen using his hair? Is he supposed to stop shedding?

Red Son getting the skeleton key? Again, it's not as if he handed it to him. Also, wouldn't that make it the Bull family's fault, since they opened the coffin?

It wasn't him being careless it was him losing 2 fights and a bit of his hair. Whereas with SWK, it's implied these things happened because he didn't think about the consequences of his actions. They don't really seem comparable.

Also, if you've read jttw (and even if you haven't, but I think the context makes it worse), then lmk SWK is a very miserable character right off the bat. As we can see, he never became a Buddha, his friends are heavily implied to be dead, there are no monkey yaoguai on the mountain, or even a nation anymore, implying that his subjects left, died, or both, and in the midst of all of this he has no support system. Nor does he ever seem to obtain one in the show.

And I think some of these issues could be remedied if he was given the opportunity to tell his side of the story. Everything wrong he does is seen told through the perspective of another person. Not to say they shouldn't be upset, but the fact that SWK just absorbs whatever blame is put on him, never really giving any fair defense doesn't sit right with me. It wouldn't change any of the things he's done, but it would make him a lot more understandable as a character, instead of him consistently being some form of a fuck up.