#I JUST DON'T KNOW HOW TO BE CONCISE AND SHUT UP OKAY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

souliebird · 8 months

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[[and then I met you || ch. 15]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Words: 8.1k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

The first thing you process as you begin to come to is a slow, rhythmic beeping. It is dull and low and it almost carries you right back into the nothingness. You slip in and out of the fog a few times before your mind is able to catch a hold of conciseness. Even then, it feels like everything crawls by until your thoughts go from incoherent images to actual awareness.

You feel awful - like you've been hit by a massive truck, who then backed up over you only to run you over again. Everything aches, but the worst of it is centered on the left side of your head, going down to your neck. It throbs and feels so stiff. You don't think you could move your head if you tried.

The second worst thing is how dry your mouth feels. It is as if someone stuffed you full of cotton to remove all the moisture from your body, then to make sure you were drained, dried you out under a heat lamp. It hurts to even try to swallow the little saliva your mouth is producing.

You need something to drink.

Like some sort of miracle, something cold and wet is pressed to your lips. It startles you, but you react quickly. You force your lips to part and an ice chip is slipped between them. You suck on it desperately and it only takes a second for it to melt away, but almost instantly you are given another one. This happens two more times before your mouth finally doesn't feel like a desert.

Your eyes are hard to open. They feel crusted shut and you don't know if you have the energy to try and pull them apart, but you try. It takes multiple attempts, but finally they open. Everything is far too bright and blurry.

Matt comes into focus above you, face wracked with concern. His hair is a mess and it looks like he hasn't slept in ages. His eyes, while sightless, are puffy and bloodshot and you wonder if he has been crying. Your brow knits in confusion and you try to reach for his cheeks to offer some sort of comfort. Your hand doesn't make it far off whatever you are laying on, but it doesn't matter because as soon as it is in the air, he's clasping his around yours.

He breathes out your name just as you croak out his.

Above you, he lets out the smallest breath of a laugh, like he is relieved, before moving even closer to you. He presses his forehead to yours and you let your eyes fall shut again - you're too tired to keep them open and you don't think he will mind the lack of eye contact.

“You scared me,” he whispers against you, before you feel his lips brush your cheek.

You manage a confused noise, not understanding what is going on. Your throat burns as you attempt to talk, “what happened…?”

“You've got a pretty bad ear infection,” he tells you and you think that sounds about right. Everything hurts so much and you are far too warm. The cotton feeling in your mouth is also in your left ear, making it feel like half your head is dunked under water.

He is so close, his breath warms your still cool lips as he talks, “It hit you hard and fast - your fever got up to 104 and you wouldn't wake up. We had to bring you to the hospital, but you'll be okay now. Your fever has gone down a lot.”

The words float through you and it takes you a few seconds to grasp onto them and make them make sense. “We…?” You question because you don't know who ‘we’ could be.

“Foggy and I,” he confirms. The hand not clutching your own cups your jaw and feels so cool and nice that you can't help but lean into it. He gives you another kiss, this time to the forehead, with his scruff lightly scratching against you. It tickles.

You realize a name is missing and your heart starts to race. Matt hasn't mentioned your daughter and you start to panic.

Where is she? Where's your baby?

“Minnie?” You ask, but to your non-stuffy ear, it sounds more like a whine.

He quickly starts to shush you, his thumb gently rubbing over your cheek, “it's okay, she's okay. She's safe. Foggy took her to go get some breakfast. She's okay. She's okay.”

His words do calm you, but your heart still pounds in your chest. You know Matt trusts Foggy, so to an extent, you do as well, but you want your daughter. You want to hold her and make sure she is truly alright. She must be so scared.

You get another kiss to the forehead and it pulls you from your worried yet sluggish thoughts. You decide you like the feeling of Matt's beard against your skin. It's not something you're used to, and even if it is a little scratchy, it feels nice. It makes you feel warm but not like your supposed fever is making you feel warm. It's a good warm that wraps around your heart. It helps to soothe you - Matt would never allow your little one to be in any danger.

“Try to get some rest, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere - I'll be right here when you wake up, again. I swear,” he whispers into your hairline and you find yourself nodding into his palm.

Sleep sounds good - you're tired and achy. Your eyes are so heavy you couldn't possibly open them again. You are slumping back down into your pillow before you know it, thoughts slowly buzzing back into nothing.

The darkness takes you easily and you drift off without realizing Matt is practically clinging to you.

----

When you wake again, things make a little more sense. The hazy heavy fog is no longer covering your brain and you are more aware of what is happening around you before you open your eyes.

You can hear people walking around and talking outside your little room and everything smells disgustingly sterile. You can feel where IVs have been placed into your arm and the different monitors attached to your chest. You also know Matt is still clutching your hand and that motivates you to actually look around.

Your head is tilted to the right, stretching out the stiffness on the other side, and centered in your view is Matt. He's asleep, head tilted down with his chin nearly to his collarbone. He looks so peaceful with his chest slowly rising and falling and someone has draped a thin blanket around his shoulders, only adding to his gentleness. You can't see it, but you're sure his knees must be bumping against the bed with how close he is to you.

Your heart flutters in your chest. Had he stayed there this entire time? Has he let go of your hand at all?

You remember when you were in the hospital to give birth. You had been so lonely - no one had been there to hold your hand or keep watch over you. No one had visited you - though you had received flowers from your work friends.

Is this what it will be like now?

You want that desperately - to feel like you matter to someone, for someone to care about you and your well-being, to feel like you aren't always alone.

You squeeze his hand, and even though you feel absolutely horrible - hot and sweaty and like your head wants to fall off - you find yourself smiling at the sweet, handsome, lawyer who fathered your child.

You are so happy you forced yourself to tell him the truth.

You don't hear anything to your left but your heart rate monitor beeping, but your ear is also so clogged up not a lot of noise is getting through and you know it's throwing off your spatial awareness. It hurts to roll your head, but it eases your nerves to find you are alone with Matt in the exam room. However, you can't help the worry that bubbles in your stomach over the lack of your daughter.

You know she must be with Foggy. The hospital is probably an incredibly unpleasant place for her - you hate being here because of the smells and atmosphere and that must be amplified for her. You can't imagine all the awful things she might hear here - the sick and dying and the surgeries. You are grateful for Matt's best friend. You will have to find a way to thank him properly.

You force your gaze back to Matt and begin to slowly rub your thumb over his knuckles. He has so many scars there and you don't possibly know how he could have collected them all. He's told you before he practices boxing, but you don't think it is the bare knuckle kind. Maybe the punching bag can split skin - you have no idea about any of it beyond what you've seen in short viral videos.

You have toyed with the idea of asking about going to the gym with him. You think it would be a fun experience for Minnie and you're curious how fit you actually are. Your workouts consist of chasing a toddler around - star jumps, push ups, and weights are no longer in your repertoire and you haven't properly gone on a run since high school. Plus, Minnie has recently learned what a cartwheel is and you are sure she will want to learn to do one and a gym is a safe place for that.

You fall into a daydream about Matt teaching you and Mouse how to tumble, closing your eyes again as you do. You picture buying cute little leotards and watching your daughter perform a routine until there's movement under your hand.

Matt squeezes your fingers, and you open your eyes just in time to see him blink awake.

He gives you a sleepy smile, then with his free hand pulls his glasses out from somewhere under his blanket and puts them on. You watch him, taking in his crows feet before they disappear.

“How are you feeling?” He asks as he shrugs the blanket off his shoulders.

You take a moment to consider the answer. You honestly feel horrible, but you don't feel as horrible as you previously did. There are aches and pains but you feel human again, as opposed to the concept of one. So you squeeze his hand and respond, “Better. I didn't…I didn't think I was that sick.”

Matt hums and somehow scoots closer to the bed, then lifts your hand up to kiss the back of your hand. You feel your face heat up and your heart rate monitor beeps a little faster. “I'm glad, you gave us a good scare,” he says, keeping your hand against his lips.

You have to remind yourself he's a very touchy person to keep your heart rate from increasing even more. To help with that, you drop your gaze to his chest - he's wearing a Columbia sweatshirt that is far too big on him and hides his lean frame.

“What time is it?” His question throws you off at first, but then you realize there is a clock above the curtain entrance to the room.

It takes you a second to process, which you blame on the illness and not the fact you haven't used an analog clock in ages, “Almost 1:30. I'm…guessing that it is PM. I can't really tell.”

Matt nods and you guess he can tell whether it is day or night. You hope it is day - you'd feel so guilty if you'd been in the hospital longer than a few hours.

Behind your hand, a small smile appears on his face, “Minnie and Foggy are on their way back up. I think she heard - oh. Okay, yes, she heard you talking. She says she has a present for you.”

Your heart pangs for your daughter. You don't want her to see you like this, but you desperately need her in your arms. You try to push yourself up, but you don't know if you have the energy to keep yourself sitting.

“Do you know how the bed works?” You ask and Matt shakes his head. He reaches out and feels along the railings, but by his frown, you guess he can't figure it out. You doubt any of the button labels are in Braille.

“Let me get the nurse.”

He squeezes your hand once more before letting go. You tell yourself to ignore the strange feeling that envelopes you as he disappears behind the curtain separating you from everyone else.

You don't want to be alone again.

But you aren't - Matt is gone for barely thirty seconds before he's slipping back into the room, followed by a tired looking nurse. The woman comes up to your right side and you finally notice a little stand computer tucked by the bed. As she swipes her card key to unlock it, she looks at you, “How are you feeling?”

You decide to go with the same answer you gave Matt, “Better, ma’am.”

“Good, good,” she says as she types something. You go through the quick song and dance of confirming your name and birthdate, before she starts her questions, “Your pain on a scale of one to ten?”

You have to think about that - your head hurts but not nearly as much as it did last night and your body feels sore and groggy. You bite your lip before estimating, “About a four..?”

She adds that to your chart, “how about your ear? It should feel a bit clearer, you had a lot of fluid that drained out.”

That surprises you because you definitely do not remember that. You touch your ear and it feels far too warm and sensitive. You had no idea it was the problem, so you feel like you can't compare.

“I don't know. Full? It…hurts. Like it's…sore on the inside?” you feel like an idiot trying to explain, but you have no idea about ear anatomy.

The nurse hums, then turns to you, pulling a stethoscope out of her pocket, “I'm going to listen to your lungs. Take a deep breath.”

You do as you are told as she places the device on your back to listen. You repeat this a few times with her until she's satisfied and she goes to enter her findings in the computer.

“The doctor will be in shortly,” she tells you before leaning down to adjust your bed, so it can help you sit. You go from laying down to being propped up, “He will go over your discharge instructions.”

You're being discharged? You just woke up and haven't talked to anyone at all. The fact they are sending you away confuses you, “I'm being discharged?”

The nurse nods, not even looking at you as she locks the computer, “Yes. Do you feel you shouldn't be?”

You flush at the question and duck your head in shame. You know better than to question a doctor - if they think you should be discharged, you are fine. You force yourself to shrug and apologize, “No, I'm sorry, I just didn't expect it.”

The nurse simply gives you another hum before leaving to probably go tend to a patient that actually needs her. Almost instantly, Matt is back by your side, taking your hand. He kisses the meat of your thumb as he sits back in his chair.

“If you need to stay, you can stay,” he quietly advises.

You quickly shake your head, “No, it will be fine.” You huff a sad laugh, “It's not like I can afford this anyways.” You don't want to imagine the bill you are going to receive - being brought into the emergency room and given all kinds of medicine. You’ll have no more savings.

“Don't worry about it,” he quickly tells you, a frown clear on his face. “Focus on getting better. Taking care of yourself. We can tackle the bill later - there's plenty of work arounds.”

Guilt pools in your belly - you don't need Matt worrying about your money problems. You force yourself to nod at his words, simply so he'll not try to comfort you over this issue. You think he must be on to what you are doing because he squeezes your hand and starts to say something, but quickly cuts himself off. You don't understand why until a few moments later - the curtain closing off your room is pushed aside and Minnie barrels in, closely followed by Foggy.

You barely look at the blonde, instead pulling away from Matt to throw open your arms for your baby. The speed in which she manages to scale Matt and jump to you is impressive and you hug her to you like you're trying to absorb her. Your arm screams at you due to the fact you're trying to bend where your IVs are, but you don't care - and you don't care if your little angel is nearly strangling you with how tight she's hugging you.

“Don't ever get sick again!” She whines into your neck and you nod against her. You'll never get sick again - what you put her through for being sick will forever live in your mind.

“I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry, I didn't know I was sick.”

“It was scary!”

That absolutely breaks your heart and tears start to fall.

“I'm so sorry, Minnie,” you choke out as you try to hold her impossibly closer. The guilt you had regarding money transforms into guilt over being sick at all. How dare you put Minnie through this? You should have realized something was wrong. You repeatedly apologize into her hair, trying to keep yourself from sobbing while she clings to you.

You feel the bed dip and then Matt is pulling you both against his chest and pressing his lips to your crown, “Shhh, it's okay. It's okay.”

You try to shake your head because none of this is okay. You scared and upset your daughter and you've got a stupid ear infection that is going to bankrupt you. Nothing is okay.

“Do you want to show your Mommy what you got her to make her feel better?” Foggy asks Minnie after a minute of you being hysterical and shame courses through you as you are reminded someone else is there, watching you breakdown.

You are such a fucking mess.

However, Minnie pulls away from being squashed between you and Matt and jumps off the bed to go to the blonde. You finally notice, through teary tired eyes, that he has a decently sized gift bag. He sets it down on the ground and Mouse has to pick it up by its sides because it's too tall for her to hold by the handles.

As she tries to figure out how to get back on the bed, you realize Matt is still wrapped around you and you decide you are too tired to fight with your anxiety and guilt any longer. You want his comfort - so you lean more into his arms and he responds by nuzzling you. He begins running his hands over your arms and somehow, it begins to soothe away your upset.

You miss whatever exchange your daughter and Foggy have, but he lifts her up and places her and the gift bag on the bed and she hauls it over to you.

“We got you a present to get better,” she tells you and you know whatever it is, you'll cherish it.

There's no tissue blocking your view and you see something pink and white checkered that looks very soft. Before you can move to pull it out, Matt intervenes. He takes your wrist and gently stretches out your arm that has the IV in it, humming against you, “You have to keep your arm straight.”

You flush at the reminder, feeling like a complete idiot, and use only one hand to pull out the gift.

It is a massive blanket and it is so so soft. You want to bury yourself in it.

“Oh, Mouse, this will make me feel better. Thank you so so much,” you say as you reach out with your good arm to hug her again. She wastes no time tucking herself back between you and Matt.

“Blankies make everything better,” she advises wisely, “Froggy said so.”

You can't help but smile at that and hold your daughter even closer. You turn your attention to Foggy, who has just been an absolute saint for watching over your daughter, “Thank you so much, Foggy. For everything. I can't thank you enough.”

He scoffs and waves his hand, “it is my pleasure. This wasn't my first late night Murdock call, it won't be my last, and she is at least a pleasure to be around at three in the morning.”

You want to ask how they even knew you were sick, but you also don't want to know the details. You can only guess Minnie somehow called Matt and you aren't in a place to hear that conversation. The guilt and emotions would overwhelm you even more than you already are and you are so so tired of crying. So you hug your daughter even closer, so she's in your lap, and mumble another thank you.

Foggy takes a seat in one of the visitor chairs and asks, “has the doctor come yet to talk to you?” You very much appreciate his concern, but most importantly, his tact. You don't feel like he's judging or lying to you. He seems genuinely concerned.

You try to not shake your head at his question, since Matt is still holding you and it would just hurt your head more, and reply “Just the nurse. She said I'm getting discharged.”

The blonde huffs, leaning back in his seat to cross his arms, “Wow, they really do just turn and burn. Last time I was here, they pushed me through, too. American health care, right?” You hum in agreement - the health care system in America is very bad.

Foggy dives into a story about being in the hospital when he was a kid. It quickly catches Minnie’s attention and you realize this may be more for her benefit than anyone else's. You try to listen, but instead find yourself resting your head on Matt's shoulder and closing your eyes again.

You’ll just stay like this, your daughter in your lap and her father holding you against him, until the doctor comes.

If he takes his time getting to you, you don't think anyone is going to complain.

---

It takes another three hours for you to be fully discharged. You have to fill out a mass of paperwork before the doctor even speaks to you, but after he does, no time is wasted to clear you out of the needed exam room.

Any concerns you have about getting home are moot, as Foggy has everything covered. He has borrowed his girlfriend's car and procured a child's seat from his parents - who apparently have multiple due to their ‘hoard of grandchildren’. Minnie doesn't fuss at all, focused on being the best helper she can be by carrying your purse, which had apparently been brought in with you. Matt is insistent on helping you walk, which you are grateful for - standing makes you very dizzy and you have to focus to not stumble.

To your great surprise, Karen is waiting outside your building as Foggy pulls the car up. She's carrying a few shopping bags, and beside her is a grumpy looking man you vaguely recognize holding a very old fashion looking crockpot. It has an orange vintage flower pattern and you kind of want it.

No one says anything as you all climb out of the vehicle. Matt quickly gets himself under your shoulder and his arm around your waist while Minnie latches herself to your hand. You don't know if she thinks she's helping or if she's obeying your rule of hand-holding when outside.

You all awkwardly stand on the sidewalk and you watch as Foggy and the new man have a staring contest. You have no idea what is going on and kind of don't care, as you want to get up to your apartment. After a full minute, Foggy points to the man and declares, “you aren't coming to Thanksgiving,” before marching towards the door to the building. Matt, and thus you, follows after him and as you pass Karen, she snorts with laughter. She and the man fall in line behind you as you make your way to the stairs.

You just know that if you allowed him, Matt would pick you up and carry you up the three flights of stairs, but you refuse to let it happen. You are dizzy and far too warm, but also very stubborn and you determinedly take each step at a time, refusing to stop until you're on your floor. Only then do you resume leaning into his hold.

Foggy unlocks your door then ushers you all inside. Minnie lets go of your hand almost instantly, drops your purse, and runs to the bedroom. You guess she is going to grab Pig and Scooby to update them on everything. You make your way to your couch as Karen sets the groceries on the table and her grumpy friend finds a spot on the counter to plug in the crockpot.

As she unpacks, Karen narrates, “Okay, so I got you all the essentials - Gatorade, tea, saltines, ibuprofen, a compress, and I got you life savers to suck on because that helps when you want something to sweet but don't want to eat anything. I picked up your medicine, it's just ear drops. And of course, the most important thing,” you turn on the couch just in time to see her motion towards your kitchen, “Nelson Family Chicken Soup.”

You stare at the blonde with wide eyes and you feel like you are going to start crying again. No one has ever done this much for you before - not even your ex-boyfriends. Your last one wouldn't even pick up tampons for you, but Karen has clearly gone out of her way and you've only met her a handful of times. You have no idea how to thank her and Foggy for everything they have done for you. You are going to have to bake them a cake or something. As for Matt, you know you are never going to be able to repay him for the comfort and care he has given you in the last few hours.

You are so overwhelmed with love for this little group of friends who are letting you into their life.

“Thank you so much,” you say, meaning it with all of your heart, “you didn't have to do all of that. Thank you.”

Karen gives you a warm smile before waving you off, “Don't mention it. You'd do the same for any of us.”

You happily would and plan to take notes of what Karen bought, just in case. However, the soup is something that confuses you. Did Matt's best friend bring Minnie to his house to cook? You turn to Foggy, who is examining Minnie’s toy chest, and ask, “You made soup?”

The blonde man looks up with a laugh, “God, no, you don't want me cooking. That was all my mom. Her soup is a cure all.”

“It is,” Matt vouches from beside you. “It can cure almost anything. It got rid of my flu last year.”

“It saved countless Christmases,” Foggy adds.

“It also stops cramps,” Karen confirms.

You look to the man in the kitchen for his approval and he just shrugs, “Haven't had it, but it smells good.”

You have to cover your face at that point because it is all too much. Foggy's mother made you soup? How did she even know you were sick? Why did she do this for you - someone she's never met? Someone she has no connection to at all?

An arm wraps around your shoulder and you are pulled to lean against Matt. He nuzzles against you and whispers, “you aren't alone anymore. We're all here for you.”

You hide yourself against him and he starts to rub your back in a comforting manner. This is far too much for you. You don't know how to process all of it.

Luckily, a distraction from your patheticness comes in the form of your daughter.

You hear her come back into the living room and boldly ask the strange man in your kitchen, “Who are you?”

You try to listen since you are curious and you can feel that Matt has turned his head to pay attention to his daughter. You stay tucked against his shoulder, wishing you had your new big blanket to wrap yourself in.

“My name's Frank, what's yours, little lady?” The man says and you try to commit the name to memory. You wonder if he is Karen's boyfriend or something - you don't think he's been mentioned before.

“Minnie!” She declares, then, “This is Pig and Scooby. They like soup, too!” You guess she's held up her toys for him to see. She must be less nervous of the man since he is in your home.

There's a round of chuckles before Frank speaks again, “That right? How about we leave it to your Daddy to get you and your friends some soup and we let your Mommy get some rest?”

There's a few beats of silence before you hear Minnie again, “Okay. Bye-bye, Mister Frank.”

The man barks with laughter, which barely covers the pitter-patter of feet coming towards you, “Daddy, can we have soup for dinner, I'm hungry.”

“Of course, princess, I'll make you a bowl.”

The others must take that as a cue, because when you lift your head up, the three other adults are making their way back to your front door.

Karen lightly calls out your name to get your attention, and when she sees you looking at her, offers a soft smile, “Feel better soon, and let us know if you need anything.”

“Anything at all,” Foggy adds, “I'm more than happy to play babysitter. Parks are my specialty if the squirt needs to get out all that Murdock energy.”

“I'm not a squirt!” Mouse huffs and you can picture her puffing up her cheeks.

“I don't know, kid, you look like a squirt to me,” Frank tells her and she lets out a long ‘nooooo’ in response.

You smile against Matt at the little exchange - you can tell your daughter is extremely fond of Foggy and that makes your heart rest easy. She's never been so vocal around other adults before.

“Thank you, so much. I really, really mean it,” you tell the people who have come to your rescue.

“It is really not a problem, you're family, now,” Foggy tells you before directing himself towards Minnie, “Okay, squirt, can I get a high five?” The sound of a toddler running followed by a slap tells you she just did that. “Good girl! Now, help your Dad take care of your Mom and call me if he gives you any trouble, got it?”

“Got it, Froggy!”

Goodbyes are exchanged then it is just your little family left in your apartment. You finally allow yourself to pull away from Matt.

“You don't need to stay.”

His response is to raise his eyebrows at you, “You think I'm going to leave you alone while you're sick? You need to rest. I’ll take care of everything else. Minnie can finally show me her Scooby movie.”

You want to tell him ‘no’, that you have it handled and he should go get his own rest, but you know it's fruitless. You're learning Matt is committed to his role of being a father and there will be no way to convince him to go. He's a lawyer - he probably already has fifteen arguments ready for why he should stay.

So you give in and give a small nod, “Okay…”

He breaks into a big grin, like he expected you to push back and is happy you didn't, “Good. Are you feeling up to some soup?”

Your stomach turns at the idea of eating anything. You’d been given IV fluids at the hospital and managed a cup of water, but you do not want to eat. There is nothing actually wrong with your stomach - everything is centered on your ear - but that doesn't change the fact you'll probably not be able to keep anything down.

“No,” you tell him after a moment, then add, “I think I'm going to shower and go to bed.”

“Okay,” he hums, reaching up and oh so gently petting your cheek with the back of his fingers and making a shiver run up your spine, “Let me know if you need anything. You don't need to get up, if you just say anything, I'll hear it, okay?”

You don't like the idea of him being able to hear your sick gross body, but there is nothing you can do about it. You slowly push yourself up, careful to not get too dizzy, then start towards your bedroom. Behind you, Matt starts talking about soup and Scooby with Minnie.

Once you are alone in your room with the door closed, you break down. You sit on your bed, hide your face in a pillow, and just let out all of your tears. All your frustration, your shame, your guilt, your confusion, your tiredness, and your pain pours out of you. Your shoulders shake as you bite into the pillow to try and hide your sobs and you pray Matt realizes you need to be alone right now and distracts Minnie. You just need to get all of this out of you.

Your body is so exhausted you can only cry for a few minutes before you are completely drained. You feel slightly better emotionally, but your head is throbbing even more.

You desperately want to get clean and curl up now. You weakly toss your pillow back on the bed and force yourself up to gather something clean to change into. You place the new garments of the dresser, before going to the closet and pulling out a new sheet for your bed. You know you don't have the energy to strip it, but you don't want to sleep on your own filth. So, you push your blanket off, then lay the clean sheet over the dirty one.

Satisfied with your meager attempt, you grab your clothes, open the bedroom door, and shuffle to the bathroom.

You look like absolute shit and don't need your mirror to tell you that, so you try to not look at it. To help, you grab a towel and maneuver it to hang over your medicine box, then strip out of your soiled clothing.

You let your body go on autopilot to start the shower and as you wait for it to heat up, you wash your face and brush your teeth. That alone makes you feel cleaner. You take your hair out of its ponytail - you washed it on Saturday, so you aren't going to rewash it, but you'd like to wet your skull to remove some sweat.

You kick your dirty clothes into a corner, then check the spray. It feels nice and hot, but not scalding, and you step in.

Almost immediately, your vision goes spotty and it feels like your brain is floating in ice water. You have to reach out with both hands and lean on the wall so you don't tumble over and you shuffle to it to press your forehead to the cool tile.

Maybe a shower wasn't such a good idea after all, but you feel so sweaty and sticky and gross. If you just stand and let the water wash over you, maybe it will help and you won't have to let go of the wall. Or you can just sit on the floor, but with how you are feeling that runs the risk of you not being able to get back up.

A knock on the door startles you and you have to push more against the tile to keep yourself upright.

You close your eyes tightly.

You think it must be Minnie. She's come to go potty when you've been in the shower before and you don't think she went before you left the hospital. You take a deep breath and center yourself before calling out, “Come in.”

The door opens and closes and the voice that speaks isn't Minnie.

“Are you okay?”

You shake your head because you are very much not okay in any sense of the word. You don't know how to put that into words or even if you want to. You don't want to go on the emotional rollercoaster again - you're so tired. You just want to get clean and go back to sleep.

You don't mean to space out, but you do. There's just so much going on and your body decides to only focus on remaining upright. So when hands smooth over your waist, you nearly scream. You know it's Matt, but it still scares you.

Why is he in the shower with you?

You try to turn around to question him, but his hands tighten around you, keeping you in place.

“Let me help you.”

The words shake your core. Your heart begins to pound in your chest and you know, if you had any tears left in you, they would be falling. Why is he doing this? Why is he here, asking to help you? Why is he pushing for it?

You feel him step even closer to you and his chest brushes against your back. He breathes your name into your ear, then repeats, “Let me help you, please.”

You try to shake your head and choke out, “You should be with Minnie.” Minnie needs him, she needs his help, not you. He is here to help watch over her, he even said so himself.

His nose bumps against your ear and you feel like your knees are going to give out. Why is he doing this?

“She's trying to give soup to her toys and watching her shows. She doesn't need me right now. You do. Let me help you.”

You push your hands firmer against the tile to keep your balance.

Matt has been with you all day, holding your hand and keeping you upright until you left his arms to go take a shower. You haven't asked this of him - he's been with you of his own free will. He's been so gentle with you, so caring, so comforting.

His hands move from your waist around to your stomach and slowly up to your sternum and very gently pulls you flush against his chest. He feels so firm, so steady, holding you up.

Do you really want to push him away? Do you really want to send him back to watch Minnie?

You can barely keep yourself standing. You're so dizzy. It feels like at any moment your body is going to give out and you'll collapse.

It feels nice to be held.

It feels nice that he is here for you, for whatever motivation he has.

You think of your daughter. How scary this must be for her and how terrifying it would be for her if you fainted in the shower after everything that has happened.

That must be why Matt is here with you. He's far more in tune with your body and you know that means Minnie is too.

He's trying to keep her safe by keeping you safe.

You need to think of Minnie, not yourself.

Matt whispers your name again and you drop your hand from the tile and place it over Matt's.

“Okay…” you whisper. “Okay.”

Lips brush your shoulder and his hands move to be at your ribs and there's a gentle pressure, silently asking you to turn. You take a steadying breath and start to rotate, slow as can be.

You can't look at him in the face. Despite everything, shame burns deep inside of you. You've always been able to do things yourself - you've always had to. Even if it feels good to have the help, to know Matt is going to catch you if you fall, the voice that lives inside you hisses that you're being weak. Pathetic.

You force your eyes open and the first thing you see are the scars going across his chest.

He has been through so much you don't even know about, just like you have been through things you haven't told him about, and to make this work, to make raising your daughter work, you have to trust each other. You have to trust Matt and he needs to trust you.

You slowly reach up and place your hand half over the scar on his right pec, then, to prove to yourself that you mean the beliefs in your head, you lean in and press your lips to the other side of the scar.

He inhales sharply and you feel like, for some reason, you made the right move.

Neither of you move for a minute, then Matt gently presses against you and guides you back into the spray of the shower.

It feels so good against your hot sticky skin and you find yourself letting yourself lean more into Matt and you give in to your desires and let your head fall against his shoulder, closing your eyes as you do.

You feel him reach behind you to the shower caddy and you are happy you have been using bar soap, so you don't have to explain what is what to Matt. He lathers up his hands, then begins to wash you. He starts with your back and you decide to just zone out. You can't debate anymore, you can't let your mind go crazy - you're too tired, too sick to deal with much more.

Matt's hands slowly work over your back and sides. They dip down to your bottom and even though he's touching somewhere intimate, it doesn't feel lewd.

After your back has been washed, he tilts his head just slightly and his nose brushes the shell of your ear and he breathes into it, “turn around so I can get your front.”

It takes a few moments, but you do as you are told, and then you are leaning back against Matt's chest, head once again resting on his shoulder, just the opposite one this time. Your nose is a hair's breadth away from his jaw.

He relathers his hands, then starts on your stomach. He's so methodical about it and it feels almost hedonistic. You're not going to deny it feels good, but you know it's not in any way sexual or wanting. You just haven't been touched in so long, so anything will feel good.

He avoids your nipples when he runs his hands over and under your breasts and he doesn't linger, moving up to your shoulders, then down your arms. When he gets to your hands, he laces your fingers together.

“Do you want your hair done?” He quietly asks and you just barely shake your head.

“Just want to get it wet,” you mumble into his throat.

He hums in response and squeezes your hands, “‘m gonna need to turn you around again to do that and to get your legs.”

He keeps your hands in his and, to your great surprise, turns you slowly around like you are dancing, one arm over your head and another around your back. When you're facing the right way again, you open your eyes to see Matt smiling at you with the softest look.

In your chest, your heart clenches.

No one has ever looked at you like that before. No one. No one has ever treated you the way he has.

You don't think you care if it is because you are the mother of his child. Matt is a truly good and loving person and you want to bask in it, at least for now.

You let go of one of his hands and cup his jaw. He presses into it, closing his eyes and it's like you can feel any tension he might have in him melt away. You stay like that for a few seconds before he turns his head just slightly to nuzzle into your palm, then he lets go of you to drag his fingers through your hair. He makes sure to get your roots wet, but doesn't soak your hair. His nails dig slightly into your scalp and you try to not moan at how nice it feels.

“Hold onto my shoulders,” he directs you and you do as you are told. Only when you have a secure hold on him does he kneel down and begin to run his hands over your legs. He starts high on one thigh and works his way down to your foot, then repeats the process on the opposite leg.

You can't help but look down at him, watching as he delicately washes you. There's this deep urge in your belly, right above your core, to tangle your hands into his hair. A memory from your night together, all those years ago, flashes through your mind.

He had backed you against a wall and gotten on his knees to push your dress up and your panties down. Your thigh had been draped over his shoulder and he had eaten you out like a starving man before taking you to bed and making you cum two more times on his tongue.

You quickly banish the thoughts because not only do you know it's not the time for that, but that it was a one night stand between strangers. You don't want to make things any more awkward by Matt realizing he's having such an effect on your body, even if you don't intend for it.

You tell yourself to think of the pajamas you've picked out to wear instead - a nice, soft, baggy shirt and your favorite biker shorts. You picture the amazing blanket your daughter got you and how nice it will be to curl up in it and sleep.

You want that more than anything right now. You want to just sleep.

You focus on that until Matt is back in front of you and turning off the water.

“All done,” he whispers and you repeat the words back to him.

He helps you out of the shower and gets you wrapped in a towel before starting to dry himself off. You don't allow yourself to admire his body and focus on getting the water droplets off of your body and out of your hair.

Once you are no longer dripping, you bundle your hair back into a ponytail and pull on your clean clothes.

The little change makes you feel so much better. You always forget how just being clean can change your mood so drastically.

“Thank you,” you whisper once you are dressed. “Thank you so much, Matt.”

You turn to finally look at him, and he has redressed in just his boxers and oversized sweater. He steps towards you and cups your jaw, smoothing his thumb over your cheeks, “You don't have to thank me. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you. You just have to let me in, okay? Please let me in.”

You close your eyes at his words and nod.

You can't promise you will let him in fully, but after everything he's shown you in such a short time, you think you can try. You can try to let Matt in.

“Okay.”

He lets you go with a small, sweet, and soft smile then cocks his head slightly to the right, “Let's get you to bed, I think someone has decided they want to join you for a nap.”

Joy swells in your heart and belly at the idea of cuddling with your daughter. You want to wrap her up and hold her and let her feel loved and protected. You know now how nice it is and words tumble from your lips without you meaning them to, “you should come too.”

His eyes go wide at the offer before that small sweet smile morphs into a boyish grin, “I would like that. I would like that a lot.”

a/n: Matt would not stop smooching. I could not hold him back from smooching.

tag list:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@petrovafire39 @allllium

@anehkael

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @ astridstark13

@lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

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tabr1-s · 4 months

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sunday rant and personal frustrations with him that i begun to write at 6am running on an entire 3 and a half hours of sleep (my cats woke me up.....)

(tldr at the end. i might be as bad as Sunday in terms of yap mileage (yappage) but i'll do one better than him and provide you with the concise version if you scroll all the way down.)

i have never felt such intense emotions about a character's moral viewpoint... Ever. and i've liked characters that were mass murderers before. morals (or lack thereof) usually never played a significant role in whether i liked a character or not (unless they did something i considered worse than plain ol murder, then i wouldn't associate with them), and 99% of the time i could find the character's motivations understandable under the circumstances that they were in.

and, technically, i can understand where Sunday is coming from too.

but that doesn't stop me from being Absolutely pissed at him.

(sunday-esque yap about myself incoming, i will eventually get to the point (which i will highlight))

as someone who has been told that i have "ocd features" Multiple times by my psychiatrist (practically each session) i understand the need for control. my obsessiveness manifests in the form of feeling the need to control practically everything - my current obsession for control being my own emotions, which extends to needing to control entire situations, and in turn makes me severely overthink all the possible outcomes to those given situations. i've also been guilty of controlling others before, and having the mentality of "i know what's best for you". hell, i still feel like that a lot, but i really try to push it back.

and this need for "control" is mainly the reason why i even find comfort in fiction. because it's oftentimes very predictable to me (it also made me think of how i do not find any interest in reading books, but i love writing stories of my own. particularly fan-fiction. and the only time i can feel comfortable enough to feel romance is towards fictional characters - because i control the narrative! it's something to think about.). if i like a character or a narrative, it's easy for me to pick apart where the writers will go with that story. and, even if the story turns out to disappoint me/be different than what i hoped for, i would still be Prepared for that possibility.

i somehow... failed to prepare for what would happen with Sunday.

i had set my sights on the wrong thing for 2.2. i invested my whole energy on trying to comfort myself that hoyo wouldn't take the ipc colonialism route (basically turning out to be capitalist/colonialist apologists) with penacony (which i Guess will be explored in 2.3? but now that i have some more context on the story and how it's unraveling i'm not as anxious about it anymore), that i overlooked a lot of other things that could've gone wrong.

namely, my favourite hsr character to be... Like that. (i'm not even being intentionally vague. i'm just dumbfounded)

i had Heard of the theory that Sunday is possessed by Ena (which didn't particularly make sense to me, and i refused to look at leaks concerning Sunday lest they upset me. either way i Really hated that theory. plus, Sunday being said to have ocd would've been an incredibly cheap way to foreshadow that he's "possessed" by the Order. you can't just create your first(?) important/playable character that has a confirmed mental illness and then go "it's okay actually he's Normal! he was just possessed". i took this very personally. and still am.), and saw a lot of theories concerning his involvement with the Order as well. i shut it all out, because i didn't like the implications of that.

which in turn made me Not think/comfort myself regarding the possibilities that he truly Was connected to the Order.

...

well, rest in pieces, me - it's always the things i don't pay much attention to/ignore/fail to think about. which is actually a bit strange because i was not expecting him to be an entirely sane person from the start - he was a politician type, a leader, and a manipulator, to name a few things. that much was obvious. in 2.0-2.1 i wouldn't have been surprised if it turned out that he was the one that "killed" Robin. again, nothing was out of the question. but, 2.1 showed a different side of him. one that cared for his sister and (seemingly) listened to her and cared about what she thought. so they became quite a comforting little sibling duo to me. tragic, yet you could depend on their mutual trust in eachother... or so i thought.

and then he... went and did all That. which just showed me how, despite him caring for his sister, he was still putting other things above her.

to conclude with my yap: in a sense, he is just my "grim reflection of the self". and although i feel sympathetic towards my past self and how naive and selfish i used to be, there are some flaws of mine i will never forgive myself for. and, Sunday, in a way, reminded me of... Everything. it was almost triggering.

(hey, writing this all down in one place helped me calm down! (it's a neverending cycle that will continue tomorrow. all it will take is seeing a post concerning him and his sister and i'll get pissed anew) yay!)

the point(s) (aka my qualms):

- how sunday manipulated robin + was planning to use her in the charmony festival to complete his plan. she was going to be an unwilling participant in creating a "utopia" that she would've been absolutely against, but he didn't stop to fucking. fill her in, maybe? talk it out? the sheer disrespect on the concept of free will and on the fact that your own sister is a human being of her own sickens me

- he should've cherished the relationship he had with her (x1000 because that's the ONE FAMILY MEMBER YOU HAD LEFT AND THAT IS SUCH A PRIVILEGE!!! IMAGINE HAVING SOMEONE CARE ABOUT YOU WHOLEHEARTEDLY AND THEN YOU GO AND THROW IT AWAY!!! YEAH I'VE ALMOST DONE THE SAME EXACT THING MULTIPLE TIMES (AND STILL WOULD) BUT THAT'S WHY I ALSO KNOW HOW MUCH OF AN ASSHOLE MOVE IT IS!!!)

- he forsook his own self and shoved down his own biases and interests (fucking rat. you can't change the fact you're human and i'm very much saying that from experience) to become something Grander than life itself and in fucking turn isolated himself and shut out the one person who actually cared and then had the Gall to complain about being misunderstood/alone. (when you're finally sitting in your unreachable throne in this "dream" that you've created, who will you blame for being lonely? who will you blame when you have no one to fall back into? no one to support you? when everybody you did this for forsakes You?)

- HE DIDN'T EVEN HUG ROBIN BACK AT THE LAST SCENE. LIKE SHUT UP ABOUT YOUR FAILED PLANS AND COME DOWN FROM THE CLOUDS A LITTLE - THE JOY YOU SEEK FOR IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!

- all i hoped for was that sunday and robin would reunite and get the chance to be happy together, and the only true reason i'm mad is because i'm guilty of a lot of the same self sacrificial behaviours as him and very much understand the sentiment of "my loved ones would be better off without my negative presence and influence". but instead of empathizing with him, i feel betrayed. i thought he was better than me. i thought he was someone worthy of admiration, and that doesn't come easily from me. despite all the warning signs i fell for his obvious facade, and i Very rarely get taken by surprise - especially in a way like this.

- if it wasn't for the fact that Robin would feel sad if Sunday died i would personally go and strangle him myself

tldr; i'm just a big baby that placed a lot of faith on Sunday and his relationship with Robin post 2.1 and my ego took a Huge hit once he turned out to be just some immature emo idealist type. (come on, man - i genuinely thought you were better than me! someone worthy of respect! and i usually have a feeling of superiority over others! this was the biggest compliment/act of faith i could give! (talking to a wall (fictional character (I'M FUCKING UPSET))))

#despite all this i do not hate him. i'm just really disappointed at how he acted with robin #i will still be pulling for him; at least that way i'll be able to have both the siblings on the same team #^(haha it's like they never got separated! i'm completely fine and not delusional)#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr 2.2 #hsr 2.2 spoilers #sunday hsr #hsr sunday #robin hsr #hsr robin #ramblings #1442 words and i could've written waaay more if i didn't get tired/bored of this

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writingforfishes · 12 days

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Hiccuping Scenarios: I

Now that I have a better idea of what constitutes a scenario thanks to @chocolate-hics posts, I want to try my hand at creating some possible inspiration as I've hit a bit of a motivational wall in Otto and Atticus (even though I know what the next story will be).

Aquatic humanoids I have been thinking about someone aquatic hiccuping for a while. I initially thought of it in direct reference to H.ellboy and A.be S.apien, but any iteration of an aquatic creature getting hiccups would work.

Some fish person having to get out of the water quickly and getting the hiccups as a result. Or perhaps they get the hiccups while in the water and their lungs serve as a swim bladder (something to help them keep afloat) and the result is them having a hard time sinking or rising in the water and needing to get out until the attack passes.

Or perhaps they are sensitive to PH balances and that can trigger a nerve/gas confusion that leads to being prone to hiccups.

Wondering if they're gills open or react while they're hiccuping as its an action that would normally force gas out of their gills while swimming. (I've probably mentioned all this on this blog before, but here's a more concise version of all of my scenarios.)

Consuming something they know will make them hiccup but doing it anyway because they love what they're consuming. Something about someone loving a drink (like a soda) or bread or carrots so much that they will consume the thing with full acceptance they'll get the hiccups is so alluring to me.

O: I knew huck! I knew this wou--would happen b-huppah!-but I l-hup! love this stuff!

A: Your dedication is admirable.

O: Sh-huckah!-shut up!

(Yes, I'm using O and A as my hypothetical people instead of A and B...for obvious reasons.)

I have a boss that eats bread knowing it will make her hiccup for a bit because it's delicious. (I don't blame her!) I haven't heard or seen it, but she tells me everyone laughs at her.

She shared this with me because I said I sneeze if I eat dry bread. It's like my body is perfectly aligned to not let me hiccup.

Getting hiccups in public and ceasing to interact after. Someone might have been boisterously conversational a few minutes ago and now they're suspiciously quiet. Except if you're right beside them you might hear their suppressed hmphs, hmks, and mks and see them jumping while their body turns inward a little.

A: You okay? You kind of stopped talking.

O: Yeah I'm mk!-I'm good. Hmk! Just go t--tired. Hmph!

A: Yeah? You got the hiccups?

O: Himp! Heh, yeah. H'mp! They came out of no-humpk!-nowhere. Hmpk! I'm good though. Thank fo-mp!-for asking.

A: Aw. :rubs their shoulder: No problem.

Laughing until they hiccup and then blaming the person who caused them to laugh for it.

O: Dammit! Huck! You gave m-hic!-me the hiccups. Hilk!-uh!

A: Yeah, yeah. Blame me for your involuntary bodily functions.

O: I will! Hup! Ugh!

Addendum: indicating a previous case.

O: I had j-UP!-just gotten hip! rid of these t--too!

A: Hey, listen. I warned you how funny I was. I can't be held responsible for the consequences.

Really fast hiccups in someone used to them so they're just distracting themselves with a book or on their phone until they slow down.

O: hmp!-hmk!-hmk'm!-mk!-mk!...hup'k!-hip!-imk!-mmk!-mmk!-himp!-up!-hip!hip!-hup!

A: Oof, those are bad. You good?

O: Yeah-mk!-just-hup'k!-wai-emp!-ting-hip'k-for-hilmp!-the-ip!-m to-kmp!-sl--slow-mmp!-slow do-uck!-down.

Addendum: fast hiccups that require nonverbal communication.

A: Can I get you anything?

O: :after thinking a moment, miming drinking something:

A: Water?

O: :nodding:

A: You think that will help?

O: :shrugging, then indicating their throat and giving a slightly pained expression:

A: Oh, for your throat? Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Be right back.

O: : nodding gratefully:

#hiccuping scenarios #hiccups #hiccup kink #hiccups kink #18+ mdni #non kink blogs do not reblog #was bored but not bored enough to write a story #Now that I know what scenarios actually are please feel free to send me asks with them

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phoenix-creates · 9 months

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Wow! YandereDev's Apology Sucked!

This is a rant post more than anything, so if drama isn't your thing, you are well within your right to click away from this post. If you do want to read through this, it continues down below. Apologies if this isn't the most cohesive or concise post, but I have too many thoughts that I need to share and I obviously can't share them on his dumb YT video because Alex heavily moderates all his comments and only leaves up the ones that stroke his ego. So let's get into it. CW/TW for mentions of grooming

For those unaware of the situation, back in September of 2023, talk of Alex Mahan/YandereDev surfaced, accusing him of inappropriate communication with a minor (video can be found here). What followed was months of voice actors and volunteers dropping from the game and asking that their contributions be removed, other evidence coming to light, and Alex attempting to do "damage control" both in his discord server and through his blog posts (as far as I know, Alex's Twitch and Discord had both been permanently banned and he's talked about having a backup Discord account and a Guilded account)

Finally, on January 1st of 2024, he released his "apology" video, explaining and "debunking" all the controversy surrounding these grooming allegations. Ironically enough, the video has been made private now (Alex claims he put someone at risk by releasing the video), though there are a couple of reuploads floating around YouTube, plus a healthy amount of criticism videos of said apology, which are worth checking out as those people can provide much more context and give better opinions than my ranting.

To sum it up, Alex's video was around fifteen minutes of pure bullshit.

Not just bullshit, but gaslighting bullshit as well. The TL;DR of the video is that, Alex acknowledges that yes the victim said right off the bat that they were 16 and although Alex felt uncomfortable when his conversations with the victim turned "spicy", he still continued to chat with them and pushed past his discomfort because he was lonely, he didn't have much of a social life, and his mental health wasn't great. He also mentions that when he saw the victim as "one of the guys" and genuinely didn't see anything wrong with the interactions he was having with them as he had friends who had been older than him when he was younger and he assumed that was how it was for everyone. Ultimately, it was more on the victim for continuously bringing up NSFW topics, not on Alex for responding to them.

You read that right.

Alex essentially blames the victim and says that the video I linked above was taken out of context and the clips were cut together in a way that made everything seem worse than it actually was. He also says that the victim themselves has also made a statement regarding the situation (however take this with a grain of salt as even though Alex admits the victim did come to him for "feedback"; I am hesitant to believe that as Alex and one of his Discord Mods were in contact with the victim even though Alex previously said they weren't communicating with them) which also corroborates his account of events.

There is so much more to be said but I do want to get into the core of why I'm making this post.

Alex is an adult. A grown man. IN HIS 30s (or 40s I don't remember). If you are uncomfortable with a topic, especially NSFW topics coming from a MINOR, you shut that shit down. No amount of mental health excuses will cut it. You do not, under any circumstance, engage in sexually explicit conversations with a minor.

(Also, quick tangent, if I were Alex and I knew my reputation as a person and as a developer was already being torn to shreds by people and I was already involved in a controversy previously regarding a minor, I would not privately engage in sexual conversation with another minor. No amount of loneliness would ever make that okay.)

You'd think that Alex would finally be suffering the consequences of his actions, but it is entirely a mixed bag. For as many people who are condemning him for his actions, there are other people who are praising him for his "apology" and also engaging in victim blaming. Yes, many of his accounts are getting banned, his patreon earnings seem to be on a downward trend, and his volunteers are leaving. But in their place are many more (I've been informed that Info-Chan and Shiromi have new voice actresses already) ready to help him. If you see the notes on his YT community post and his personal blog post, he still has fans and supporters.

He is still receiving support. And in my opinion, it is because we are not taking this as seriously as we should be.

Whenever news about Alex comes out, we are quick to make jokes and meme on him. We very easily make light of the situation or file it under "who was really surprised that Yandere Dev did this?" and we move on with our lives. By not acknowledging the very serious accusations of this man, he is effectively absolved from any consequences of his actions because he had so many people jumping to defend him. He got away with his bullshit Hate and Shame video, as well as his Debunk page, because he has people coming to defend him and we joke about it instead of taking action on it. And yes, this is still an on-going problem. Just check the blog post of his stupid fucking apology. The comments are FILLED with people blaming the victim. There are even people claiming that Alex could have autism/adhd/etc. and that is why he couldn't understand right from wrong.

(Sidenote, using autism as an excuse when someone does horrendous shit is horrible. We aren't here to self-diagnose because when we excuse bad behavior as simply "autism", it creates a stereotype for actual autistic people and makes it harder for them to be heard and understood because we keep conflating autism with certain behavior. STOP doing this. It doesn't help anyone.)

I do not believe that Alex will change. He might continue to get worse because we have allowed him to get by with vague excuses and promises while he "debunks" everything that makes him look bad. He has spent years claiming anyone with negative things to say about him and his game are ignorant trolls who don't understand game development or coding like he does and that people just spread rumors about him. He keeps delaying the game with more excuses. It has and always will be excuses with him. It has been ten years of excuses for a shoddily put together game.

Put that into perspective. It is 2024. In April, that will make it TEN YEARS of development that this game has gone through.

Alex has spent ten years developing this game, milking money from people, and giving us nothing in return. He has a consistent pattern of horrible behavior towards mods, fans, and volunteers. He has rejected help from competent developers to fix his spaghetti jumbling mess of a code. He has nothing to show for ten years. The game is not fun. We have ONE rival who is a challenge to eliminate (there is no reason the very first challenge in the game makes you work so hard during the first week), we have a "ten rivals mode" that is even worse and a slog to get through. We constantly get new hair and texture models for miscellaneous things instead of actual content. Alex swears he spends hours every day on this game and we are no closer to getting a better experience with the game then we were a few years ago. It might even be 2030 before we even get the fully completed game.

I don't think he deserves sympathy. I don't think people should be praising him for the bare minimum. I've long since stopped caring about the game coming out; I'll likely have my own kids by the time the game is finished with the rate it's going. I just hope that the victim will get all the help and support they need and Alex stays away from them.

Thanks for following the development of YS or what the fuck ever.

#rant post #yandere dev #yandere simulator #tw grooming #yansim #if you support alex kindly get the fuck off of my page #vent post #i'm only doing this one rant then i'm gonna fuck off and go back to mortal kombat

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medicallymercury · 2 months

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okay, Mercury’s 80s Casualty Thoughts: Closure (01x15) Edition

(I know I said I’d get back to series 4… I will... soon? also, this is a pretty long 'thoughts' post because I don't have energy to organise them into anything more concise)

this feels like a really weird episode to watch in July because it’s the original Christmas episode

Ewart seeing the end of the night shift as a vote of no confidence and threatening to resign??? Ewart very much belongs in the 80s but he's still one of the original characters I'd like to drag and drop into the current show

S1 Kuba is the best version of Kuba

this meeting scene at Megan’s is so <3 everyone being squeezed into the room and Duffy holding Megan's ashtray is just so... ~natural feeling~

Charlie is right about needing to strike but he's being a dick about it and I like that the show knows that, I also like that interaction between him and the paramedics where Andy suggests a petition and Charlie and Sandra immediately shut the idea down because the patients don't care? very character of them to both feel that way

Megan is another character I'd drag and drop into the current show, she could fix everything with her presence I think

DUFFY AND SUSIE "tell her to pass it on" "she knows that" my sillies, they were fr besties in S1 (lovetrianglelovetriangelo-) I somehow forgot about Susie continuing to defend Duffy not wanting to go to the police in this episode but <3

THE PROTECTIVE SUITS!!!! they all look so ridiculous I love my little guys (the paramedics in the pink ones as well aaa, S1 you will always be famous)

staffroom scene where Duffy is stressing out that she has Lassa Fever and the others are laughing at her is another (like the meeting scene) moment that feels very natural to me just with how everyone is sat and what they're up to? like, Susie eating chocolate and stuff instead of them all just sitting around doing nothing other than existing to have the conversation they're having, I guess?

see, this is just becoming what I knew it would: me listing things that make me smile about this episode

but I love the scene where Charlie is being annoying and trying to get Andy to play piano and Sandra is laughing along with him and also "I'm tone deaf, Andrew, should've thought you'd know that by now" a call back to the second episode!!!

THE WE'LL MEET AGAIN SCENE!!!!!!!!! augh, I am tearing up I need to sleep...... Sandra, Duffy and Susie matching costumes!! Clive and Baz dancing!! Charlie getting the words wrong and Megan laughing at him!!

also, thank you Mickey the old man patient who got stuck in the ED with them for causing this reaction image I love:

sorry Baz's brother, she's not visiting you now cause she's in France with Charlie (actually this is an annoyingly pretty good scene for them... ‘annoying’ because I don’t really like it when I find myself liking Charlie at all)

the protest at the end of this episode feels like such an underrated part of S1, this whole episode does actually, it's so much about the whole team coming together and I just think it's a perfect ending for the first series to have everyone together like that

(DVD commentary implication that they had been drinking when they filmed the final scene)

and Ewart's reaction :( the start of the episode being him saying that he sees the end of the night shift as a vote of no confidence in him vs the end of the episode being everyone coming together to fight for his night shift

Overall: Closure needs to be remembered more when the BBC or official Casualty socials do stuff for the Casualty anniversaries or I will riot.

#mercury's 80s casualty thoughts #i think that was the tag i had been using #bed now today's ep tomorrow (probably)

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justatidalwaveoffeelings · 2 years

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NOVEMBER 19TH

Sometime after united we spy- Joe and Rachel facing Matt's birthday without him. Sad fluff. I hope yall like it!

The knock at the door was quick and concise. Before Rachel had a chance to answer Joe stepped into her office. It had been a busy day at the Gallagher academy. Rachel had been trying to get a head count on how many girls would be staying over the brief break for Thanksgiving and Joe was cooking up the hardest semester final he could think of. He kept telling her that he had "a reputation to uphold of being the scariest teacher."

If they were being honest it was just a distraction. They had barely spoken since they had awoken that morning, it was a quick check-in, a quick kiss and off to work. Neither of them had to much to say on days like this.

"How are you doing?" Joe asked her.

How was she doing? She shuffled some paperwork on her desk and gave a brisk "I'm fine, Joe."

She didn't want to talk about it right then. She had things she wanted to do before she mentally checked out for the day. She needed at least another two hours of the work day.

"So, you don't want to talk about it"? He asked with a small smile.

"I've got things to do here. It's not easy to run an entire school. I don't know if you've ever heard anyone say it's easy being married to one of your teachers because let me tell you it's not!" It's--

"It's harder to run away from feeling things when best friend and husband makes you think about them?" He cut her a look that said he knew that she was distracting herself, and that it was ok.

He sat down at the desk in front of her. Watching her, waiting.

"I'm not running, I've got other things to think about why is that not okay?!"

He suddenly looked tired. "It's totally fine. I dont want to make you feel anything, I just wanted to check in on you. See if we could eat dinner, just the two of us? On days like today it's normally something we do."

She didn't respond right away. She didn't want to tear up or talk about it. She had to make sure that 41, 42? Girls had guidance, food and warm beds to stay in. Matt wouldn't want her to brush them off.

"I know. I know. I just..... I just need to do this, ok?" She sounded upset. They locked eyes for what felt like way too long.

He stood up slowly and told her that he was going to be upstairs in their little staff quaters apparement. That when she was done he'd hope she'd join him. He walked over, kissed her on the top of the head and walked out of her office without another word.

She felt terrible. The second Joe left she felt like she screwed up, and badly. Yes, he was checking on her but not 3 minutes had passed when she realized that he might have needed her. Not only was she being plagued by her first husband's death but she was also very concerned that she had hurt her now husband. She looked back down at her paperwork and suddenly felt tears prick her eyes. She had been so focused on avoiding her own feelings about Matt's birthday that she had inadvertently shut out everyone else.

As she started to lock her office door she called Abby. She got her voice-mail. Not a huge surprise to Rachel but she left a message anyways. She hoped, gosh, she couldn't believe she was even thinking this, that Agent Towsend was with her. She wasnt sure how much sympathy he would lend but she was certain that he loved her. As long as Abby wasn't alone today.

She didn't knock on their door, she just stepped into the small living space that she and Joe now shared.

The lights were on and there was a wonderful smell coming from the tiny kitchen. She called out "Joseph?" There was no response. She walked through the tiny living room kitchen combo and opened the door to their bedroom.

He was sitting at the small desk in the corner with the desk lamp on. He had a bunch of papers spread out and he was reading. Both his journal and Matthew's. He didn't look up as he said

"so you decided to join me finally? That was barely 10 minutes, your normally more stubborn than that."

She couldn't take it anymore. She teared up and sat on the edge of the bed. Hearing her sit he turned around to face her. She was still staring at the baseboard when she spoke.

"I'm so sorry. I should have just told you that I'm upset and that I'm not doing well. I miss him so much. I.... I just... I really miss him and to add to that I was so flippant about how you were feeling. I didn't even think"...She started to choke on her tears and before she knew it she was just crying.

Joe moved from the desk and sat beside her on the bed. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. They sat like that for a few minutes until Rachel's tears started to subside.

"I'm so sorry, Joe"

He backed away a little bit to look her in the eye.

"It's ok, Rach"

"No, it really isn't. I know you miss him too and what's worse is you take it in a personal way cause..."

He became serious and removed his arms from around her waist.

"Because I what? Was involved in pulling him into this. Because the wrong guy went to Rome that day?"

She looked at him squarely, saw the tears just behind his eyes that she knew he wouldn't let fall. She reached out and put her hand on his jaw. Tilting it down to really look at her.

"Because you think it's somehow your fault"

He lightly sniffed and started to stand but she was expecting this maneuver and was quick to pull him to her.

He was a little stiff so she continued,

"We have been over this before, wise guy. I know the entire story start to finish. In no way shape or form do I think you're responsible. Abby doesn't think it's your fault. Cammie doesn't think it's your fault. I love you. I know you. I dont want you to carry it with you all the time.

I also know, she said with a small laugh, that I have said all of this before in greater detail and you're still too stubborn to listen."

He whispered a barely audible "I know. On days like today....."

"Ya days like today can really suck but I have you. Thank you, by the way."

"For being miserable with you? Ya, ok there Ace."

He was starting to tease. That's good.

"I love you, Joe."

"I love you more".

She couldn't help herself. So she said "actually you know what I might love more than you? Whatever it is your cooking right now. I haven't eaten since breakfast and that smells amazing."

"It's a casserole and chocolate cake"

"I was so smart to remarry a man that could cook. Chocolate cake, huh? Matthew's favorite."

He chuckled as he kissed her softly. When he kissed her like that, they could forget what day it was just for a minute.

The timer went off for whatever was in the oven. Joe went to the kitchen and Rachel walked to the desk. She cleaned up the pile of papers. She put the journals in the top drawer and she looked at the photo on their desk. Matt, Joe, Abby and Rachel, holding a very tiny Cameron. She smiled softly.

Wait. Cammie.

"Joe, I didn't reach out to cammie today."

"I'm sure it's fine hon, she's in Prague with Zach. They are working. They'll keep eachother safe. He'll distact her."

"I know, but I wanted to say something to her. Its too late in Prague now."

He looked at her half amused and half guilty.

"Would now be a good time or a bad time to admit I used the dead drop saying that I hoped she was doing ok, we love her, that we both missed Matt too and that he would be really too proud of her?"

"Wait. You did?"

"Ya, you were so quiet about it all day that I wrote to her and signed both our names. I hope that's ok."

She laughed "ya, thats more than ok. Thank you"

The rest of their night was spent peacefully. Each switching between being reminiscent of the good things and shaken up by the loss. That's how November 19th normally passed.

As they laid in bed, Joe started playing with her hair she couldn't help but thinking that today was hard but that it was nothing compared to the days when they spent them apart. At least they still had each other to lean on and to miss Matthew together. November 20th was always a much easier day for both of them she thought as she drifted off to sleep.

#joe/rachel #gallagher girls #matt morgan #poor kids #sad day #fluff

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masterwords · 2 years

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It's cheesy but would you consider a sleep deprived Hotch trying to hold conversation with Derek but failing and falling asleep on him instead. Maybe they're already together at this point maybe the interaction melts Derek's heart to the stoic emotionless Boss. ☺️❤️

Look at me, answering asks from November! I swear I'll get to all of them eventually. But anyway, I love this one so much and it made me think of their late night in 5x05 - Cradle to Grave and "This is the job" and "Unless you have other plans" and "Not tonight" and...anyway! It's kind of platonic-ish but really not at all, you know how it goes with me and my rotting brain. (1.4k words)

*** a perfect setting ***

“This is the job,” he says with a smirk, but as lighthearted as he's trying to play this off it's just not. There isn't any question that he's doing the right thing. He can't keep this job for many reasons. Foyet is watching him and there is a certain performance he knows he needs to give, but he's not sure that it's still a performance. It might be true. He might be falling apart.

He hasn't slept in two days. Between the pain that hits so hard in the middle of the night and the phantom sounds of locks clicking and floors creaking and walls groaning...he's had the worst couple of nights in recent history. As the fog clears on his attack and those memories start to settle into their proper places, he's finding it harder to adjust to any sort of healthy rhythm. He fell asleep at the table while he was drinking his morning coffee, just lay his head down on his arms and dozed off until an email buzzed the phone against his arm and startled him awake.

First instinct? The holster on his leg.

Reaching for his weapon because of his phone. So yeah, maybe he was coming apart just a little. And giving this job to Derek made sense.

But watching the ease with which Derek absorbs the information he's attempting to lay out in a concise way is really forcing him to see the situation with a clarity he hadn't before. The stark contrast between the way Derek focuses and his own inability is startling.

“I could use some coffee, you?” he asks, and Derek nods quickly.

“Yeah. Coffee. Good call.”

He's half asleep when he stands, a little wobbly, a little unsteady. Exhausted and battling medications that come with bold warnings about side-effects like dizziness, drowsiness, fatigue, he also knows there are even simpler facts here that he's got to contend with. Hardly two months prior, he lost a massive amount of blood and that alone is bound to be a problem for a while longer if his doctors are to be believed. “Stop drinking coffee,” they tell him with those sour faces. “Drink water. You lost a significant amount of blood. It doesn't just regenerate over night and everything is back to normal.” Well, water doesn't help him stay awake so he's desperate.

He has some pills to take, his phone buzzes in his pocket and reminds him. He's been snoozing that alarm for hours, and now he's dangerously close to not being able to take them at all and having to wait for the next day's dose. But they make him so damn tired. He washes them down with coffee and hopes for the best.

“You don't need to stick around,” Derek says when he notices the way Hotch's eyelids get heavy while he glances over what Derek has completed so far. “I got this.”

“I'm okay,” Hotch lies. His meds are making him foggy. No matter how much caffeine he dumps in there he's still exhausted and falling asleep sitting up only with the added pleasure of heartburn and the inability to actually stay asleep if he lets himself drift. There has to be a line he crosses into total body shut down, he's just not there yet. Derek shrugs and goes back to his file when he sees Hotch pull one from the pile on the little coffee table and begin looking through what he's done.

The next time he looks up, Hotch's chin is buried in his chest. Derek walks over and drops the file onto the pile and slowly slips the open folder out of Hotch's hand. This, of course, wakes him up.

“Have a seat,” he says, trying to save face. “I noticed something you missed.” His voice is groggy and slow. Derek rolls his eyes dramatically.

“Oh, now come on...you were asleep...”

“Be that as it may, I did see something you missed.”

Derek sits down and Hotch doesn't skip a beat, he's leaning close and pointing to a few things that Derek sees right away...he must be tired too. He blinks hard and tries to focus, he's not used to staying up this late. Sure, maybe on the weekends when he wants to party a little and let loose but he's pretty rigid about bed time and wake up time on work nights if their case load allows. He values his full night of sleep, his morning workout, his routine. Taking this job is going to burn all of that down if he's not careful, starting tonight. He can't remember the last time he downed a cup of coffee after midnight.

Hotch smells really good. Like he's fresh out of the shower, and he shampoos with money. It's more than a little distracting in a very pleasant way. It's been a while since they've been this close, since they've fallen asleep in a pile on a couch in the middle of case files. Haley used to throw blankets over the top of them when they were at Hotch's home, just heap them in all sorts of mismatched granny throws and let them stay where they were. He misses those days, so this is making him more than a little wistful.

As he fixes the mistakes he made, he notes that beside him rather quickly, Hotch loses his battle with sleep entirely. He's still sitting up but his head is lolling to the side, slowly drifting closer and closer until it's resting heavy against Derek's shoulder. He doesn't flinch when the connection is made, and he doesn't wake. Slowly, so as not to disturb him, Derek closes the file and slides it to the couch beside him before leaning back into the cushions and letting himself succumb.

It's way past his bed time, and besides, isn't he the boss now? It's quitting time.

JJ happens upon them during her morning rounds. She's no stranger to this sight, except it's been a long time and she almost can't believe it. Unfortunately, something that should feel a little nostalgic fills her with a little dread because she can't think of any good reason for them having slept in Hotch's office. Not since Foyet.

“...time is it?”

She drops the files off on his desk, grabs what he's got in his outbox, and whispers that they've got plenty of time before anyone else will be in. “You guys should go get some breakfast...maybe shower...”

“My place isn't far away.” Derek's eyes aren't even open yet, his arms are folded over his chest

“I didn't mean shower together...”

Penelope, who shouldn't be at work yet but has somehow found her way into the mix, chimes in with a grin. “If we're talking about doubling up on showers, dibs on Hot Chocolate...no offense, sir.”

Hotch flushes and stands up. His ribs ache and his head swims. He needs a few more hours of sleep, and some food. And water, his mouth is parched. “I think I'll head home. Call if you need me. I'll be back in time for the morning briefing.”

“Yeah...heading home sounds nice. I'll uh...” Derek pauses, finally opening his eyes and glancing at Hotch, really taking in how tired he looks. “You know what? Make it lunch time. I'll be back by lunch.”

They leave the office together without any fuss, just grab their jackets and leave. Hotch can't remember the last time he left without his briefcase and a go-bag in his hand, but he's just too tired to care. And he isn't the boss anymore. He's allowed to leave his work at work for a while.

Hotch is so exhausted that he just follows Derek to his car like a lost puppy. “You wanna just come to my place? It's closer. I've got a guest bed, you can get a few extra hours of shut eye in there. I'll even let Clooney pop in and I'll turn a blind eye if you want him on the bed if you ask nice.”

Hotch considers his apartment, how cold it is, how he sees Foyet in the shadows, and for once he gives in. Derek's home is warm and inviting, and Clooney always makes him feel safe.

“That would be nice.” He hasn't been to Derek's house in years, hasn't seen Clooney in forever.

Derek grins. “Just like old times, huh?”

A sleepy and content smile drifts over his features as he slides into the passenger seat of Derek's car. “Just like old times.”

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #hotchgan #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x derek morgan #hotch x morgan #ficlet #or something #sleepy dudes #fanfiction

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tolkien-feels · 2 years

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Would you do Aredhel, Nerdanel, Amrod, Celegorm, Maglor, Amras Beren, Luthien, Namo, Sauron, Morgoth, Melian, Thingol, Daeron, and Mim for the ask game please? (I apologize for the laundry list; I'm just really curious about what you think about them!) (I'm not intending for them to be done all at once!)

That is quite a list. Okay, let's try to do this, but I apologize for the length. I've tried my best to be brief but if you follow me you know I don't know how to shut up. You can watch in real time how I manage to be concise for a little bit and then gradually derange into rambling

Already done: Ambarussa and Luthien

Aredhel

Sexuality Headcanon: Straight, allo, just very vanilla

Gender Headcanon: She's cis in both identity and presentation, but aggressively anti restrictive gender roles

A ship I have with said character: Lowkey Eol in a messed up way (exactly in what way they're messed up changes depending on my mood), but I'm generally uninterested in shipping Aredhel

A BROTP I have with said character: *gestures broadly at the Finwean family tree* All my shipping interest with this character went into family brotps I think! I'll just highlight a somewhat unusual relationship I'm really interested in: Curufin. Oh, and Idril.

A NOTP I have with said character: In terms of romantic, none. In terms of friendship - Aredhel & Galadriel. I have complex thoughts about their relationship but I actively dislike them as besties.

A random headcanon: I've spoken a little about this before, but you know the relationship Celegorm has with Orome? I headcanon Aredhel has something similar with Nessa

General Opinion over said character: I have no idea why I don't talk about her more often, because I find her super interesting. I'm very particular about fanon takes on her, but I'm very much into canon!Aredhel

Nerdanel

Sexuality Headcanon: I don't actually vibe with the Kinsey scale, but for the sake of simplicity: she's like a 1. I don't think she would label herself as anything more detailed than queer, though

Gender Headcanon: It's complicated. Other people might assume she's gnc, but she's cis. She's just... not very good at performing Valinorean gender, and generally interested in trying very hard to. But she very much identifies as female

A ship I have with said character: FEANOR!!! And that's it. But that's one of my favorite otps across all my fandoms

A BROTP I have with said character: ...also Feanor. Her children as well. MAHTAN. Aule. My completely made up post-Darkening friendship between Nerdanel and Manwe

A NOTP I have with said character: Anaire and/or Earwen. I'm not a huge fan of them as friends (I find it more interesting if they are not) and I'm definitely not into them as romantic ship(s)

A random headcanon: She has a pad and charcoal with her pretty much at all times and is semi-constantly taking down quick sketches of things that interest her. They're studies for future sculptures, but she favors abstract sculptures so very few people can see the relationship between sketches and final products

General Opinion over said character: Love of my life. Blorbo. I once worked myself up to tears just by thinking about her tragedy. Would kill and die for her.

Celegorm

Sexuality Headcanon: Pan but also poly (in the sense of polyamory), which is a major taboo in Valinor and messes him up quite a bit.

Gender Headcanon: I'm a huge fan of transmasc Celegorm tbh, I have a whole post about it

A ship I have with said character: None? Not in particular. I deeply enjoy the idea of Celegorm, in one of his creepiest moments, deciding if he ever can become Not Poly, it will be by loving Luthien, the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, who comes with a crown. But that's not a ship, that's a plot point headcanon, I wouldn't even want this plot point to last long.

A BROTP I have with said character: Other than his family? Orome, I guess. I will say, though, that I enjoy Celegorm getting along with his cousins more than other Feanorians do

A NOTP I have with said character: Aredhel. I like him seeing her as a little sister so much I genuinely forget this is a popular ship until I see it

A random headcanon: Adores children. Ever since childhood, he just loves everyone who's younger than him. And yes, he's fun and has unusual ideas about safety, but he's actually extremely protective and will never put a child in actual danger. He gives them the illusion of danger without ever actually endangering them

General Opinion over said character: I mean, my blog is like 90% Feanorians at some points, do you even have to ask? I love him. My own son, I love him

Maglor

Sexuality Headcanon: I have two answers for this. The actual headcanon is bi. The funny headcanon is that he's aroace but assumes he's pan because "equal amounts of attraction equals pan, right?" when the amount of attraction is actually zero. The reason why this is funny is because I always headcanon Maedhros as aroace, and I deeply enjoy the idea of the two of them having the same identity but having no clue of it until like, halfway through adulthood

Gender Headcanon: Very much cismale

A ship I have with said character: Daeron, but in a very specific way, and it's a ship I enjoy a lot, but not quite an otp

A BROTP I have with said character: As with all Finweans, his whole family. I have to mention kidnap fam, but I only enjoy it if it's messed up. Also - Daeron again

A NOTP I have with said character: His semi-canonical spouse. I never remember they exist and when I do, I just say "No, thanks."

A random headcanon: Absolutely deadly on the battlefield. He doesn't enjoy violence, but being ruthless won't keep him up at night. And mercy killings are kind of his thing.

General Opinion over said character: Same as Celegorm - my own son. But I feel like almost all the headcanons I have about Maglor are almost the opposite of the most popular fanons

Beren

Sexuality Headcanon: ...PTSD. No, just kidding. But kind of not. I headcanon Beren simply hasn't had the opportunity to even meet people he could conceivably be attracted to. I headcanon him as bi, but does he know that? Nope. As far as he's concerned, he's stayingalivesexual at first and then Luthiensexual later

Gender Headcanon: Cis, but after his first death, he generally stops caring and is curious enough about Luthien's weird, half-Maia gender to try out some minor gender presentation things. But it does nothing for him, really, he's just curious and after trying it once he pretty much loses interest. A case could be made for some flavor of enby.

A ship I have with said character: Luthien, of course. Daeron/Beren is a crackship that I take more seriously every time I joke about it and one of these days I'll end up unironically getting into it and crying over the tragedy of it all

A BROTP I have with said character: Barahir's outlaws as a group. Finrod and his elves, too. Thingol and Melian (trust me, I can make it work.) And I have many thoughts about him and Dior. As always, I gravitate around family groups. Oh, and I have an entire au in my head where he basically adopts Turin, and I love it

A NOTP I have with said character: Interestingly, Finrod. They have a lot of elements that usually would make them otp material for me, but somehow I can't get into it

A random headcanon: Could give some of the best archers in Tolkien a run for their money

General Opinion over said character: From my hyperspecific ramblings you can probably guess I'm always thinking about him. I love him both for who he is and for how he parallels ten thousand characters. Parallels make brain go brr

Namo

Sexuality Headcanon: Vala. I headcanon no Vala can feel attraction, romantic or sexual. They experience attraction rather in the way their roles in the Song are structured, and I can't wrap my mind around it

Gender Headcanon: Similar to the above. I headcanon the Valar only really started doing gender based on their understanding of how the Children of Iluvatar would be like, and they're all outside of the gender spectrum we could understand. No, they aren't agender, either. Nor xenogender. They're Something Else.

A ship I have with said character: Again, none. Vaire, I suppose, but that falls between ship and brotp

A BROTP I have with said character: See above on Vaire. Other relationships I enjoy are Lorien and Nienna, as well as Manwe

A NOTP I have with said character: Um... none? Nothing I can think of

A random headcanon: He's gentler with the dead than with the living. Not because he's awkward or anything. He's just conscious of the power he has over the dead and is more careful not to misuse it, while the living are free real estate to treat in any way he sees fit depending on the person

General Opinion over said character: I love the Valar in general, although they break my brain. Mandos is one of the ones I think the least often about, but whenever I do think about him I go "Oh he's fun, I should think about him more often!"

Sauron

Sexuality Headcanon: See Namo. I think Maiar can feel attraction, though, it's just extremely rare, and tends to be for other Maiar. I headcanon Sauron is one of those who has never felt any kind of non-Song-related attraction towards anyone, really. But he's keenly aware of how to be attractive and enjoys it, but from a power rush standpoint only

Gender Headcanon: See Namo again. But I think Sauron finds gender annoyingly messy (what do you mean each culture sees it differently? That's inefficient. No.) and struggles to commit to it in the way most other other Ainur do. Left to his own devices he nopes out of gender; when he's among people (eg Eregion, or Numenor) he performs gender perfectly while finding the whole thing absurd. He defaults to male gender exclusively because of the societal benefits; he would default to female in a matriarchal society, probably.

A ship I have with said character: None

A BROTP I have with said character: Um... Also none? I deeply enjoy the idea of Morgoth and Sauron being a twisted version of Manwe and Eonwe (which is a brotp I have) but it's not a brotp as much as a trainwreck dynamic. I also enjoy Sauron and Celebrimbor having messed up dynamics, but again, trainwreck. Aule and Sauron can be fun but I'm picky.

A NOTP I have with said character: I'm not at all into Sauron being actively in love with someone, so. All of them.

A random headcanon: Ironically for a crafter, he sort of. sucks. at creating realistic fanar for himself. He always ends up in uncanny valley territory due to compulsively wanting to have no flaws - he looks computer-generated, basically. He was better at this when the world was young, but the more he corrupts himself, the worst he becomes at it (while he still can change his fana, anyway)

General Opinion over said character: I wouldn't say I don't like Sauron, but I'm fairly uninterested in straight up villains, while being uninterested in making Sauron anything but the embodiment of a specific kind of evil (though that depends on when in the timeline we're talking about), so I tend not to give him too much thought. He's fun to play with, though, philosophically speaking

Morgoth

Sexuality Headcanon: Again. Vala. Does not apply.

Gender Headcanon: Vala. Does not apply. But he's a huge fan of how gender opens the door for comprehensive oppression in new and fresh ways. Up there with jewelry in the list of best things the elves came up with.

A ship I have with said character: Oh, none. I can crackship him and Gothmog exclusively because I think it'd be funny to ship an Angband ship that isn't Angbang, but that's just to laugh about, I wouldn't be interested in actually exploring it

A BROTP I have with said character: Like I said, Sauron, in a twisting of a Vala-Maia relationship. MANWE MANWE MANWE MANWE. Nienna. Recently, Indis. Hate-brotp with too many characters to count - I love people pissing Morgoth off

A NOTP I have with said character: None? All? I'm unlikely to either enjoy a Morgoth ship or hate it enough to run away

A random headcanon: He genuinely cannot feel love anymore, but he badly wants Manwe under his command because their connection is part of the fabric of the universe, and servitude is the only way Morgoth can conceptualize wanting Manwe near now he can't understand brotherhood anymore (actually I should make a post about this, I have many thoughts on this)

General Opinion over said character: Pretty much exactly the same opinion as what I said about Sauron, but I'll add Book of Lost Tales Melko entertains me a lot

Melian

Sexuality Headcanon: One of the rare Maiar who feels attraction, and the Ainur judge her for directing it at an elf. Having said that, Thingol is an anomaly, and she is attracted to no other being in the world, although she intellectually understands the concept of attraction better than most Ainur

Gender Headcanon: Maia. Does not apply, really, but she delights in something similar to elven womanhood. She would probably consider herself trans, though, because she's chasing a gender euphoria that she does not get with whatever is going on with the Ainur concept of gender

A ship I have with said character: Thingol. That's literally it.

A BROTP I have with said character: Essentially anyone who's ever stepped in Doriath, I kid you not. The instant someone steps in Doriath I start inventing a relationship they could have with Melian. Also, Yavanna and Orome

A NOTP I have with said character: Um... none? ...actually. Thingol/Melian done wrong. I nope out of a lot of portrayals of them as much as I get into portrayals of them I enjoy.

A random headcanon: Her voice is rather deep and quiet and creepily melodic. It's the clearest giveaway she's not actually an elf

General Opinion over said character: I have always enjoyed Melian, but the older I get, the more fond I become of her tbh. Not sure why but it's been a clear tendency for the past decade of my life

Thingol

Sexuality Headcanon: Uh... queer. Some flavor of. But I can't pin it down and I think he definitely wouldn't.

Gender Headcanon: Manflux, but on an elvish scale of time. He can occasionally spend a mortal lifetime without any changes to how he feels about his gender, for example

A ship I have with said character: Melian. Other than that, Finwe (sometimes including Miriel as an OT3, but I tend to headcanon Thingol/Miriel as qp)

A BROTP I have with said character: Same as Melian - everybody who's ever been in Doriath. Also his family (Thingol and Elwe in particular break my heart), and Finwe and Ingwe

A NOTP I have with said character: Same as Melian: Thingol/Melian done wrong. I don't know, I feel like there are some ships I'd consider notps, but none is coming to mind

A random headcanon: Local tall elf uses disturbing height to perfect the art of forehead kisses. No, really. Not many people get them but it's pretty unforgettable if you can manage to get one. (This goes hand-in-hand with my headcanon forehead kisses were the go-to way to wish someone well in Cuivienen, and that tradition stuck in most of Beleriand, though not in Aman.)

General Opinion over said character: I really like him! I mean, very flawed character who is doing his best but that's really inadequate for the situations he finds himself in? That's My Type. I can also be very protective of him because I think he has enough flaws without people bad-faith interpretations of every single thing he does. (But also he's a mess, don't make him perfect either. I'm picky.)

Daeron

Sexuality Headcanon: Demi

Gender Headcanon: You know what? This is the first time I'm thinking about Daeron's gender. I have no idea. Masc-presenting, I think, but there's something... unusual about how I picture his gender? Like, I would describe his gender as "boy" very comfortably, but "man" feels off, but I don't headcanon him as particularly childish, so I don't know. Something.

A ship I have with said character: When it's done in the particular way I like, Luthien. As I've mentioned, I might end up going for Daeron/Beren too. I've mentioned Daeron/Maglor, too. And I'm not sure whether to go on ship or on brotp but I have a friend who is trying to sell me on qp Beleg/Daeron and they're being successful

A BROTP I have with said character: LUTHIEN LUTHIEN LUTHIEN. Thingol and Melian. Occasionally, I get in a mood to explore Beleg and Mablung too. Oh, Maglor, too, in a specific way.

A NOTP I have with said character: None?

A random headcanon: There is not a person Daeron has ever met he cannot make laugh or at least smile given enough time

General Opinion over said character: I'M A PROUD MEMBER OF THE DAERON DEFENSE SQUAD. I'm just that meme of the samurai holding the cat, you know the one? I love him so much and people are so mean to him. Also, I draw a lot of my characterization for him by comparing the evolution of other Leithian characters through drafts, and considering how Daeron might have evolved if Tolkien gave him as much attention as I wish he had - and that's just intellectually fun

Mim

Are you part of the rock opera discord?

Sexuality & Gender Headcanon: Lumping these together because I'm so torn. I have headcanons about how dwarrow genders work but they're very... Durin line-centric. I'm not sure how much they'd apply to Mim's own culture, nor how he would relate to genders outside of his own culture. So um... I guess further worldbuilding is required for me to be able to answer this.

A ship I have with said character: SIGH. I hate my life, but. Mim/Finrod. Listen. It has potential. It has! The tragedy of it al!!!!! (Let this be a lesson that if you crackship something for long enough you'll end up really shipping it.) I could also, I think, ship Mim/Beleg but exclusively in the context of a mutually destructive ship where Mim is just taking out his Finrod issues on somebody else and Beleg..... no idea, I haven't thought that far. The ship has just now occurred to me, don't ask difficult questions.

A BROTP I have with said character: I very much enjoy his relationship with Turin and the rest of his crew, but it's very important that not a single person under Mim's roof behaves in a hinged way, so jot that down. (I also wish I spent more time thinking about his relationship with his sons, but I haven't really done that yet.)

A NOTP I have with said character: None. Listen, after Mim/Finrod I think it's been conclusively proved I will ship Mim with anyone given enough incentive

A random headcanon: He enjoys epic poetry/music as defined by his people. I feel very strongly about it. It's important to him, and the loss of the songs he's never learned grieves him.

General Opinion over said character: I've been looking forward to meeting him in my CoH re-read! I find him very tragic, and he always reminds me Norse mythology, which I used to love as a child. Also, I have to read his Complaint one of these days, if I can find a re-translation and the right mood to read it

#ask game

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muqingists · 2 years

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Can I send multiple !! ? What if I just go !! !! !! In one message? Rules weren't clear enough. Also for those keeping count at home this is already at 4 !! (Now 5, that is if they count or not)

you get two bc bestie privilege and you're a menace. <3 also bc they're super intertwined so it makes my life easier lmao. they're my insane deranged boys

read more bc i don't know how to. shut up lmao

mercure (he/they)

appearance: shoulder-length red hair with a purple strand braided on his left side, purple eyes (his right eye has a black sclera so he hides it behind an eyepatch). bandage around his neck, lots of ear piercings. white wings + black halo he stole from an angel (halo wasn't initially black but, like, it's not supposed to be his, + it also got corrupted when mercure messed with death. more on that later <3)

ciel (they/them + he occasionally but rare)

appearance: messy messy green hair pulled up in pigtails. black eyes normal white sclera, two black markings under each eye. a scar on his left cheek. black wings + three/four black horns (varying. for some reason) always wears a choker + has a black hell snake usually around them

THEIR DEAL IS. okay. doing it joined bc they very much revolve around each other lmao im actually kinda reworking their story so the setting isn't very definite but basically. they were both in some kind of academy together and got close and then ciel was murdered. and mercure lost his shit and broke just about every known law to the universe to bring him back (hence the. stolen angel's wings and halo part) and succeeded except it robbed him of all his memories from the past year since he met ciel, and ciel comes back with no recollection of their past but with a companion hell snake and a certain talent for killing. so they end up as an assassin until mercure becomes their target and after enough attempted murders they both got a thing going on and realize something isn't right. meanwhile mercure is fighting off both the angel's corrosive influence on his soul bc a human isn't supposed to be in constant contact w their influence like that + the corruption from fucking around with death so. that's fun <3

i think this is. as concise as i can make it these bitches have so much going on. lmao.

^ beautiful beautiful art of them by my darling friend paxeattacks on twitter!!

#I LOVEEEE THESE GODDAMN. STUPID BOYS SO MUCH you have no idea #they're everything to me. my babies my fucking unhinged darling dearests.#mercy #mercure #ciel #ask #oc tag

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reiverreturns · 1 year

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1, 7, 63 for the writer asks

Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

I enjoy both to be honest! I've been leaning into one-shots more recently as a challenge to get myself to write a little more concisely and have really been enjoying them but I don't think I have a strong preference either way. I'll just use the format that's best for the story I want to tell.

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

The serious answer is I choose to write from the POV of the character I feel I have the best handle on (by ways of motivation, goals, fears, voice, etc.) Sometimes that comes to me quick and othertimes I'm wrestling in the background with a character for months before I can start writing. The silly answer is that 9 times outta 10 it's the blorbo I've been obsessively rotating in my mind like a hog on a spit ever since I consumed the media.

63. Something you hate to see in smut.

Oh gosh okay this isn't exactly answering the question as it's more what's not there but - a lack of emotional context? Like yeah the characters want each other but I wanna know why they want each other and why now. If it's a reunion, show me the relief and the longing and the build up. If it's hatefucking, show me the anger and the self-reproach and maybe a bit of doubt as well as the heat. You catch my drift. Bleed that into smut and I'll forgive more or less anything that would otherwise give me the ick.

But if you want something specific... gratuitous and detailed descriptions of how a character feels on the inside (beyond the usual tight/warm/whatever) will make me snap shut my laptop so fast. Different strokes for different folks and all that but it's just gross to me.

Get to know me (fic writer edition)

#thank you for the questions! <3 #ask games

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tamsinbeybey-she-no-porcupine · 3 years

Text

Okay so hear me out (this is going to be a long one, probably. I'll try to put it as concise as I can).

Yet another thing I absolutely love about the Captains development is how he talks about the war this season.

When you remember back to earlier seasons he Captain talking about the war was quite literally about the war or stating that there was a war going on as we learn from a lot of interactions: For example "Why is it always about war with you" "The war is over Captain, it's over!" or "The war is over" etc. The last one is famously followed by (I paraphrase) "Is it, really?!" He never really talks about the people involved, doesn't tell tales about the soldiers he knew. He focuses on the facts and not on the humans/the human experiences.

He only once says that Lieutenant Havers has left him for the front. Mind you this happens after a long day where his past literally comes back to him in form of a bomb and where he spends a lot of time during the day thinking about Havers who he had a crush on, reliving some memories. I don't know if you're also like this, but it's often the case that people can't shut up about the people they are crushing on and bring them up randomly. In the Captain's case this is obviously not the case because he is really repressed and doesn't talk about his affections for men. However he didn't have to tell the others that besides him only Havers knew about operation William or that he left. In my opinion this was his version of not being able to suppress to mention Havers. For him it probably felt quite risky especially since he normally avoids the topic and he has this quick little gay panic when he says "he left me" quickly correcting himself. I think it could be that he doesn't talk about his fellow soldiers normally because when someone tells a story, the way they tell it and what they tell can actually be used to infer information from it about the storyteller. And if he were to tell little stories about Havers it would probably end up in the sense of "Captain your gay is showing". So he just doesn't talk about other soldiers but on this one occasion he basically couldn't help it (old emotions bubbling up from all those memories he was just so much on his mind that day) . And in contrast to the Captain in the present saying stuff that show his orientation or at least make the others suspect it, I think the sheer danger and fear of being found out during his lifetime is so engraved into him that he simply keeps everything related to other people from this time under wraps. I think there is an incredibly strong negative emotional link there and also the continuation of a "habit" basically (Don't say things about other soldiers that make anyone suspect and put you at risk). Whereas in the present it is less threatening and less ingrained.

So now obviously a lot has happened between series 2 and 3. The Captain is aware that he is gay, the Captain is happier, he is more at peace within himself, he shows emotion, he's opening up, he almost is ready to come out. And because all of this he actually starts to not talk about the war and only the facts but about the people who experienced it. He know focuses on the humans, the people he knew. He tells how he felt during his first day as CO, he tells what they were doing on manoeuvres, he is talking about the activities they did and how he felt (poor seagull, poor Captain) and even talks about soldiers he knew who either were from Leeds or Halifax. He now focuses on the humans/human experiences and instead of his stern "there was a war on" face he actually smiles!! (Please view exhibits A which are exactly the same as exhibits B later):

Exhibits A

And it has everything to do with him coming to terms with sexuality and freeing himself from all that emotional baggage that he collected because he had to repress his true self for so long. And now he is already at a point to express himself more freely and authentically and it's like that whole time of his life especially the people in it has stopped to be this really big taboo topic for him.

I am so proud of him and love him so much

So now to the point that made me wanna write this post in the first place.

Let us look at two of those instances where he talks about his emotions and experiences during the war.

Exhibit B.1

This right here is his smile after he just told us about the butterflies he had on his first day as CO. We can obviously see that he is picturing a memory and despite the smile there is a slight tinge of sadness? and at least for me it looks like a bit more than just nostalgia he actually looks a bit...yearning? like he misses whatever it was that made him feel butterflies. So either he misses being that nervous again on a first day or we go with the other meaning of having butterflies. Which is of course the feeling that is often associated with you being attracted to someone/having a crush for someone.

I mean we all know where I'm going with this but let's look at exhibit B.2 first:

This is after the Captain mentions that hey did "horseplay in the lake" Again fond smile, a look that seems like he envisions a memory but yet again there is this sadness around his eyes? I mean he talks about a time when they actually for once had a bit "downtime" and probably fun because it was different from their normal routines. Horseplay in the lake sounds like they all could be a bit more carefree on those occasions. This results in him having a has very nostalgic "good old times"-look about him, like in this second he thinks back and misses it a bit.

So let's note here that both these looks are similar and now let's take a look on when he looked extremely similar (though there are a lot of those looks this is however the most prominent one) just without the smile and with more sadness:

Exhibit C

In conclusion: I kinda believe that horseplay in the lake involved Havers and that he thinks about him when he says that ,

Also I full-heartedly without a doubt believe that the butterflies on his first day are in correlation to the one soldier that we know of that gave him butterflies, which he would have probably met on his first day because he was his second in command.

In conclusion conclusion: there were probably two instances and definitely one in series 3 where the Captain, who has made such a tremendous progress and is moving on from so much thought briefly and fondly and nostalgic..ly about Havers.

And I absolutely love that and I think it also means he is coming to terms with how everything went between them and opening up for new love (probably Pat tbh). It also means that Havers really probably meant an awful lot to him (probably more than just some crush) and I can't.

Edit:

It also means that he has fond memories of Havers to revisit and I love that

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cherry-lipbalm · 4 years

Text

double trouble. spencer reid.

4.8k words.

masterlist

where y/n pulls the short straw and has to double up with spencer.

There is a chart within the BAU: a solid, concise graph that portrays, arguably the most, vital information within the FBI. Intricately designed, Garcia and Y/N had managed to construct a comprehensible guide to who in the team was the most pleasant to share a room with. At first it was a joke, originated from a slow day of nothing but paperwork Y/N had spent in Garcia's lair. Conversations arose, and soon after so did the chart.

It's built up on categories such as conversation, tidiness, sleeping conditions and even hygiene. There are ten available points per category, and Emily loses said ten points for sleeping conditions because her snores can be heard from China. The points are the basis of the game, essential in order to rank the team individually and compile them into a list of favourability. Spencer is at the bottom of that list.

"I don't get it, I'm a delight," Spencer argued, strolling alongside Morgan up the small flight of stairs to the BAU room. Another case had forced them to prepare for the jet in 30 minutes, but Hotch and the rest of the team had very different perspectives on preparation. Especially after what he said when they entered the room.

"Okay, before we start you should know I called ahead to book a hotel and they had limited rooms. We all have one but you're going to have to double up."

Y/N had never seen an American Western movie before, but she imagined that the cliché standoff looked a lot like what happened in the BAU room subsequent to that announcement. Those that had been sitting launched to their feet, uncaring to the chairs rolling free behind them. If someone was holding something it dropped onto the table, or even the floor. Communication faltered, and all anyone dared to do was stare at each other.

When Hotch looked up from his file, he had to do a double take because of the drastic change in atmosphere. His team were all standing metres apart; Y/N had a hand over her gun.

"I think we all know what this calls for," she said.

"Get it," Morgan gestured to the back of the room. Y/N's movement caused a surge of motion as everyone sat at the table attentively. Hotch tried to turn the attention back to the screen with the crime scene photos, but even JJ was more focused on the whiteboard rolling into the room.

Y/N stood by it's side, and on her way forced Hotch into a seat. She grabbed the top corner and flipped it over to reveal the coloured array of pie charts, bullet-points and bar charts.

"I still don't see why this is necessary," Spencer whined from the back of the room.

"I don't see why you've obviously spent more time and effort on this than any of your cases," Hotch added.

"Okay, you two are just jealous because you're at the bottom of the list," Y/N snarked, then addressed the team. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today, in holy matrimony, to judge your fellow coworkers and deem who is the least likeable. Spoiler alert: it's Spencer."

At this, the aforementioned agent threw his pen directly at Y/N's head. She shrieked, then turned to him with a glare as she tried to untangle it from her hair. He laughed wholeheartedly, and the team snickered not only at Spencer's attack but the way they were so obviously and obliviously in love with each other.

"This chart makes no sense! I mean, how do I only have five points for hygiene? We all know I'm the cleanest out of everyone here."

"I agree with you Spencer," Y/N said, "your hygiene is at a ten point standard but unfortunately people don’t want to compete with said ten point standard, so that loses you five points, gorgeous.”

Spencer didn't reply (only sulked into his seat), half because he's shocked by the injustice of the chart and the other half because he's shocked Y/N just called him gorgeous.

"Alright! The hat, please," She exclaimed, enticing Spencer from his trance. Garcia presented the fedora over the table, and Y/N began talking immediately when she saw Hotch's mouth open in objection because were they really using the fedora from the unsub they caught last week?

Only four people took turns in picking names out of the hat; ever since in incident in '04 where lack of coordination made for everyone picking a name of someone who had already picked someone else. It resulted in a few brawls when Morgan wouldn't budge from his choice of Garcia even though his name had been pulled by Reid.

It never took them long to pick names out of desperation, considering the name-picking determined how the next 24 + hours were going to go. So when Y/N picked out Spencer's name, no one blamed her when she practically collapsed to the floor.

"That's karma," Spencer said upon her unraveling.

"I thought you didn't believe in karma," she sneered, stomping back onto her feet.

"In situations like these it seems to be the only viable explanation."

Y/N just rolled her eyes at him on her way out of the room, muttering under her breath that she'll be briefed when she's aboard, because she needed a moment alone for a pep-talk on how murdering your colleague apparently isn't socially acceptable.

On her way out, faintly in the background, Morgan caught sight of Emily and JJ fist-bumping victoriously, and realised that Y/N's demise more than certainly involved some foul play. Oh well, he thought, it'll make for good entertainment.

———

"Science shows us that we feel more personally connected with people who have similar postures, vocal rhythms, facial expressions and even eye blinking. If you consciously sync these factors your brain activity could follow, resulting in what many people call 'clicking' wi-"

"I cannot believe you asked me why you lost seven points for conversation and then followed with that."

"What? What's wrong with science?"

"Oh, Spence, you're so gorgeous but so oblivious," Y/N sighed, exhausted from a mixture of jet lag and Spencer's enthusiastic take on the science of conversation. They had only just stepped foot in the room, and she was already drained from the mere thought of having to bunk with him for the next however many hours.

Y/N is quick to throw her things down as soon as they enter the room. She dumps her suitcase by the door and launches a few more things on the cabinets around her, then tries to ignore Spencer's sounds of distaste as she does this. She's frankly too tired to care, and jumps onto the bed without thinking; she's so enervated she doesn't even realise there's only the one bed.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Spencer suddenly asks despite the silence that passed and the obvious fact that Y/N is trying to get some shut eye.

All he receives is an incomprehensible mumble from under the pillows, but he takes it as a response anyway.

"Why do you keep, uh, keep calling me 'gorgeous' I mean, I'm not, uh..." he stammers, fidgeting with the room key in his hands while he stands in front of the wardrobe to make it seem like he's doing something and doesn't care as much as he does.

"I'd say it's pretty self explanatory."

He senses the fatigue in her voice, so just leaves it with a shrug of his shoulders and a content smile, then goes to organising his array of sweater vests onto the hangers. When he's done with this, he turns around to make himself a coffee; taking a different approach to the jet lag than Y/N.

At the thought of her, he looks up to see her sprawled out across the bed. She's clutching onto a pillow and seems so relaxed that Spencer has to look away for a moment because he's more than certain he shouldn't be seeing a coworker like this. Nevertheless, he smiles upon her peaceful ambience, and hopes the boiling kettle doesn't disturb her too much.

When it's done brewing, Spencer sips the coffee cautiously and strides over to a small chair in the corner of the room. Here, Y/N's slumped figure is directly in his view, so he can't help but see her so casually on the bed. Wait, the bed... oh shit.

He knows that the chances of him getting the bed are slim. For one, Y/N's pretty much already claimed that territory, and, even if she hadn't, Spencer knew she'd put up one hell of a fight for it. He only hoped there were some extra blankets and pillows that could aid in making the floor at least somewhat comfortable.

"So, uh, Rock Paper Scissors for the bed?" He asks, then slurps his coffee. His voice rouses Y/N for a moment, and he's sure she's dozed back off again until his words sink in and she turns around to him with bleary eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"One bed. Two people," he says nervously and gestures to the space between them.

And it takes Y/N a moment. She looks from Spencer to the bed, then stares at the pillows for a long while, then she looks at Spencer again, then the bed. Then, she lets out a blood-curdling cry so loud that Reid has to cover his ears.

"Why!" She screams, slamming her hands down on the mattress. Spencer can't help but laugh, snickering behind his hand which only infuriates Y/N more.

"Okay, okay!" He moves to calm her down when he can practically see the steam coming out of her ears, "rock paper scissors, come on."

"Oh, I don't want to do that, Spence," she whines.

"Why? 'Cause you know you'll lose?" With his patronisation he raises an eyebrow at her when he approaches the end of the bed, his fist already raised. His condescension makes Y/N irrefutably stubborn, and she knows he's doing it on purpose -because he always does- but she doesn't care when it means she has a chance to beat Spencer at something.

"Fine," she grumbles. She sweeps the hair from her face and sits up straight, shuffling to the end of the bed and letting her legs dangle down; they brush against Spencer's own and he clears his throat amid the contact.

The slap of her fist against her palm indicates the beginning of the game. Y/N knows that she's unlikely to win, because Spencer is bound to have calculated some sure-fire plan to succeed in every round of Rock Paper Scissors.

This is why, when Spencer pulls paper and she pulls scissors, she screams in delight.

"No," Spencer says bluntly, then demands, "best out of three."

"Oh no," she chuckles, "it's never been that way before, it isn't now, gorgeous."

Spencer throws his head back in a groan, kneeling on the floor in defeat. He stays there because he figures he ought to become acquainted with it.

———

When nighttime rolls around, Y/N is pretty excited. She's already texted the BAU group chat a record seventeen times about the matter, yet somehow the team hasn't gotten sick of it thus far, and may even be more exhilarated than she is. It's the one good thing to come out of sharing a room with Spencer: that she gets to watch him wiggle in discomfort on his makeshift bed of blankets and pillows on the floor.

Except, when it comes down to it, it isn't that fun at all.

He's wriggling, yes, but it's doesn't exactly fulfil her with any satisfaction; if anything, it's just sad. He struggles to reach any form, never mind pinnacle, of relaxation, and Y/N actually feels pretty guilty at the subordination. So when the clock hits midnight and she's still hearing Spencer grunting when he hits a certain incessant bump in the carpet, she gives in and sits up.

Upon the sudden sound of bedsheets rustling, Spencer freezes because he thinks he's going to get shouted at, but it's the opposite that scares him even more.

"Do you want to get in bed?" Her voice sounds, the hush penetrating through the air.

Immediately Spencer rises; he wants nothing more than to take her up on her offer, but he is, unfortunately, chivalrous.

"No, no, it's okay," he whispers back, already delving back under his covers.

"Spencer. Just take the bed, I can't sleep with you tossing and turning," she says, hoping the complaint will cover up her caring behaviour.

"Be careful, Y/L/N, it almost sounds like you care."

"Shut up, do you want the bed or not?"

"I do but, unlike you, I'm actually a good person and wouldn't want to see you lying on the floor-"

"Uh, I'm offering you the bed, aren't I? That's gotta earn me some brownie points," she remarked, now having turned on a lamp. "Besides, if you're that bothered about it, we'll just share."

This makes Spencer stop: his torso is turned abnormally in his angle to see Y/N behind him, the blankets feebly draping across him show the Doctor Who shirt he's wearing, and his hair is a tousled mess that Y/N just knows will take him hours to fix in the morning. Well, that was tomorrow's problem, she contemplated, right now the issue lied in who, if either of them, was going to sleep on the floor.

"Uh, share? You.. uh, you really wanna do that?"

"As long as you don't snore, or kick; whats the harm?"

Spencer avoids dumping information about the harm of them sleeping together: how this kind of physical contact releases oxytocin, a chemical compound in the brain that exhibits feelings of empathy, trust, relaxation and even reduces anxiety. He saves her this because it's just past midnight and he doubts she wants to hear about the scientific risk of them growing to like each other.

"Oh, okay," he agrees instead. He clambers up from his pile of blankets and clutches a pillow to his chest while he stumbles over. Y/N shuffles to one side and pulls the duvet back, and he's more than happy to get under warm, comfy sheets.

"Let me just make something clear," Y/N says while Spencer adjusts into the pillows. He doesn't do this for long because one is snatched from under his head. When he moves to object, he sees it being planted next to his arm, creating a definite border between them.

"Your side, my side," Y/N says sternly, "that clear?"

"Crystal."

———

It's around three am when Y/N stirs awake. At first she can't grasp what's roused her, but then she hears a noise, and assumes there's got to be some construction going on outside because what she hears is alike to the humming of machinery. When she gains a reasonable amount of consciousness, she realises the sound is a bit too close to home.

Her hand reaches out across the bed, and when she accidentally whacks Spencer on the chest, she worries she's awoken him, until the noise starts again and it's here she discovers it's coming from him.

Oh shit, she thinks, please don't tell me my co-worker is having a sex dream while I'm lying right next to him.

He isn't, but Y/N isn't sure the reality is any better.

The moaning sound he first emitted has progressed into some sort of panicked grunt, accompanied by occasional whines. Soon, his body is flinching away from an invisible force.

Y/N knows it's probably best to leave it, that if she wakes him up he might be too confused and scared, he'll be disoriented, but when he starts screaming, she doesn't have anything else to resort to.

"Spence, Spencer! Wake up, hey," she shakes him, and he's awake in seconds. Sitting up straight, Y/N sees him hitting things that aren't there; it's only when she turns the light on that he eventually calms down.

"I'm sorry," he croaks immediately. Then his head is in his hands as he leans on his knees, and Y/N is overcome with a feeling completely foreign to her in regard to Spencer: empathy.

"Don't be, it-... it's okay," her voice takes a calm turn, and she even puts a hand on his back because anything that happens after three am is as good as forgotten anyway.

"You were right, I'm sorry," Spencer mutters. "This'll lose me ten points for sleeping conditions, huh?"

His attempt at cracking a joke does make Y/N smile, but even he can tell it's one of pity.

"Don't be silly. Do you want to, uh, talk about it?"

"I just wanna sleep," he sighs, and falls back into the pillows. Y/N creases her brows in sympathy, then lies down next to him; she stares at the ceiling for a while, and the steadying of Spencer's breathing makes her think he fell asleep a while ago, so she leans to turn off the lamp before his voice breaks the silence.

"Can you keep the light on?"

His sudden ask makes Y/N jump, but she steadies under the softness of Spencer's voice. When she turns to him his eyes are barely open, but he can see the benevolent smile she's giving him; something he rarely sees from Y/N.

"Of course," she says, then lies back down into the indent she's made in the bed.

"Thanks," he replies, and Y/N notices this is the least she's ever heard Spencer talk.

"You know," she starts, "it's not silly to be afraid of the dark; it's basic human instinct. I mean, it's evolution: humans have a... a tendency to be afraid of the dark, our visual sense vanishes and we can't detect anything around us. It's primal instinct, or... something, I guess."

At the end of her ramble, she's afraid she's sent Spencer to sleep, because he's gone uncharacteristically placid, but -yet again- he surprises her.

"Now who's losing points for conversation?"

Y/N's laugh after this is so hearty and genuine that Spencer can't help but smile, grin even. His chest rumbles with a chuckle, and Y/N feels the mattress shake under their collaboration of laughter, when it dies down they're both still beaming.

"Maybe I've been hanging around you too much," she declares. It's a jab, but her cheek rests against the pillow when she turns her head to him because her smile is so wide, and Spencer reciprocates; the act is unfamiliar to the pair, but warming nonetheless.

When it goes silent, Y/N doesn't expect to sleep at all. The Pavlov affect of the light being on tricks her brain into thinking she should be wide awake (something she learnt from Spencer), so she lies there patiently; hands intertwined resting on her chest. She twiddles her thumbs, almost as if she's waiting for something to happen.

"I'm sorry you have nightmares," she mutters.

Spencer's eyes flutter open, and she goes to make another apology, this time for waking him, but he clears his throat so she lets him take the lead.

"S'Not your fault, I just, I don't know. I get these dreams, these weird dreams - ever since I was a kid. I guess they just... developed into nightmares since I joined the BAU," he mumbles. "We see some pretty bad stuff."

Y/N hums, "we do, don't we?"

Her speech doesn't warrant a response, so Spencer just smiles again and they both silently call it a night. Reid is asleep in seconds, which Y/N finds admirable, while she stays still for a while. The way the orange light is bouncing off Spencer's physique makes him look like he's centre stage of an oil painting. The detail she's gaining of his pores and his eyelashes from being so close to him is both daunting and beautiful at the same time. His resting body reminds her of the pieces on display in an art exhibit Spencer dragged her along to one day last autumn. She wonders if he took anyone else to that exhibit, and hopes he didn't.

She soundlessly admires the rise of his chest: the melody of his breathing amid the chagrin of an occasional nose whistle. His hair, once a foreseeable inconvenience, is now an abundance of, what Y/N can only describe as, natural radiance; it's all curls and frizz and length that she's begged him to never lay a hand on. She can't help but run a hand through it. When she does, it's a lot softer than she expected and makes her think, wow I've really got to find out what conditioner he is using while she's untangling any knots she comes across. It only results in more frizz but he'll gel it back with product in the morning (much to Y/N's disappointment).

The noise he exudes when Y/N scratches his scalp makes her heart melt immediately. It is the sound of innocence wrapped up in a ball of revere, the way it comes from his chest and catches in the back of his throat in a small, naive whine. Then he subconsciously curls into her hold and is practically purring when she continues to scrape her fingernails gently across his head.

The ambivalence of it all is what makes Y/N stop. Spencer Reid isn't the kind of guy she ever anticipated to have a crush on. He didn't fit into the pattern of her list of exes, not even one feature of him came close to anything of her usual type. Where she'd normally be taken to movies and dinners, Spencer ventured with her to museums, public symposiums, art exhibits. Y/N can't resist fondly reminiscing on a library trip they took last week that resulted in them checking out each of their favourite books for one another. And while, on paper, this was romantic and harmonious, they were strictly platonic. Barely that; they took the piss out of each other at every opportunity, not even always as a joke. Y/N had collapsed in sorrow when she pulled his name out of the hat.

But the smile on Spencer's face... his serene expression and soft hair makes Y/N's knees weak for a totally different reason. And she figures this feeling trumps whatever feigned resentment she has been portraying over the years.

Fine, she thought, stubborn as always when it came to Spencer, I'll tell him when he wakes up. She began to bask in the peace that came before whatever storm could potentially riot tomorrow when she told Spencer how she felt. She guessed she had at least a few hours to relish in their friendship and the love they had built.

She guessed wrong.

Spencer's eyes were fluttering open before Y/N had even began conjuring up what she was going to say. Unfortunately, when she made a plan she stuck to it; she was beginning to see why her stubbornness could be such an unattractive quality.

Spencer squinted harshly with the light, and the first thing he managed to see clearly was the discreet panic in Y/N's eyes. He took a quick survey of the room to eliminate what visible factors that could reason her alarm; when he ruled out any unsub with a gun to her head, he relaxed.

Rubbing his eyes, he looked to the window, and it didn't seem to be daylight yet.

"Haven't you been to sleep?" He asked, more than prepared to educate her in the necessities of getting a good night's rest.

"Not yet. You've only been out a few minutes," she said softly, retracting her hand from his locks. Here, Spencer realised he didn't like the feeling of Y/N's absence.

"Oh," he hummed, "I was dreaming. I think Darth Vader was there..."

Y/N chuckled lightheartedly, "of course he was."

Spencer seemed willing to remain awake, but time was limited and Y/N wasn't sure when he'd be dozing off again. So, she made her move.

"Listen, I wasn't going to say anything until morning but, you're awake so I may as well tell you now..."

He's visibly intrigued; with a quirked eyebrow and digging the knuckle-joint of his finger in a rubbing motion in the corner of his eye to try and gain some sense of vivacity. Still, all he can respond with is a drone.

"And I don't want this to, I don't know, freak you out? Or to make anything awkward, so if it does, we can just... pretend this never happened, okay? I mean it."

This manages to obtain Y/N the attention she needs, because, without delay, Spencer has both eyes open and his eyebrows are knitted together in mostly concern. Now, with his eager expression, Y/N wishes he had stayed nonchalant.

"What's wrong?"

"I just... I guess. I mean, I like you? I think? I know, really. I just - you're not like any other guy, and I like that, that's a good thing! I mean, what other guy knows how to build a rocket and make a coin appear behind your ear?"

Spencer chuckles, and his eyes are wide and bright like he's been suddenly granted passage to a whole new world. Mouth agape with wonder, he's like a child being told he can finally play on the big-kid swings: buzzing with excitement and anticipation, just like said rockets he launches and gets in trouble with Hotch for.

"You mean like this?" He asks and leans forward to brandish a dime from behind Y/N's earlobe.

"Okay, like, who does that!" She screeches way too loudly for three am. When she clasps a hand over her mouth Spencer chortles and slowly removes her grasp. He's timid, so initially only presses a chaste kiss to her knuckles, then feels the ambience in the room shift; suddenly everything has devolved from blushing antics and stumbles of words to serenity in a matter of seconds.

Spencer's pecks adhere to Y/N's hands, lingering on the skin of her knuckles and occasionally peppering to her palms. It isn't until a few kisses later that he brings himself to move closer, and even here his courage only brings him to her cheek.

When the corner of his lips press lustfully upon her face, Y/N doesn't hesitate in turning her head ever so slightly. His lips part, and he breaks away to glance at her and make sure this isn't all one big misunderstanding. But her gaze is matched to his mouth, and soon her lips. In a fumble to close the (already compact) space between them, the kiss they share is warm and breathy, it's passionate and lewd, especially with the arrangement in which Spencer places his hands: cupping one side of her face and the placing the other at her neck so he can rest his fingertips in the hold atop Y/N's spine.

Wherever his fingers touch leaves a trail of goosebumps which Y/N hopes never diminish; she wants every piece of evidence she can muster of Spencer's caresses, however this changes when Spencer's lips begin on the formidable task of her neck.

"Stop," she pants, and the hands that had inevitably reached his hair again are now pushing slightly on his shoulders. Her request makes Spencer drop his hands immediately.

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"No, you didn't. It was nice. I just, I don't want everyone to see," she gestured to the red patch that had already formed above her clavicle where Spencer had only been nibbling a moment prior.

"Right, yeah," he breathed. A giddy smile forced its way onto his face when he looked at the way Y/N's lips had reddened and become swollen, especially her bottom (now essentially permanent) pout originated from the persistence of Spencer's tendency to drag his teeth along her lip and enclose it in a bite.

"You know, I predicted this would happen. Scientifically, people are a lot more likely to be attracted to one another after sleeping together. Subconsciously, we feel more capable in our ability to trust that person because we've been so vulnerable and open in a compromising position. The oxytocin we get from sharing physical contact like that is the same we produce in an orgasm."

"Oh," Y/N squeaked, while Spencer lay there with a proud smile on his face, not really registering the effect he'd had on her by using the word 'orgasm'.

"Oxytocin is heavily released during kissing too, so... I guess we're pretty bonded."

Y/N chuckled, smiling at his blushed cheeks. "I guess we are."

"It's, uh, it's actually also called the 'cuddle hormone' because it's primarily recognised as being released during hugging.”

"And that's your way of asking me if I want to cuddle?"

Spencer's smile was unmissable: shifting nervously between tight-lipped and beaming wide, his eyes were the only part of his countenance that stilled; locked on Y/N.

"Yes, I, uh, I believe it is."

She tried to suppress her grin, but it was no use.

"Big spoon or little spoon?" She asked.

"Oh, little spoon... obviously."

fin.

#spencer reid gifset #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid imagines #Spencer reid one shots #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid x reader

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mikey180 · 2 years

Text

Lero ro x reader

Type- fluff

You're Perfect

Why? Because I'm down bad.

"Hey y/n, how have you been, Eh?" Quant asked that so loud that everyone in the office was looking at you. "Bro, Can you shut up for like... 5 minutes?"

"WHAT?! Oh come on, Dissy said that YOU need friends since YOUR job moved to the second floor. I'M just trying to be nice!"

"Hey Quant, do you want to come with me to get a new lighthouse? Ya know since you broke the last one." Lero ro walked over to the fiery redhead and put a hand on his shoulder as Dissy skipped over to you. "Lero ro invited us to! Do you wanna go y/n?"

"Well, I might as well. I'm almost done, give me about five more minutes. okay?"

"You got it! We will be waiting for you out by the training doors." nodding as Dissy skipped away you decided to find a stopping point in your work.

when you got to the doors that you were supposed to meet at you saw Dissy by the vending machine at the end of the hallway with Quant. lero ro looks at you from beside the door, his golden eyes piercing your conciseness, and stands up from leaning against the wall. "Looks like we're going to have to wait for them to get their snacks, huh?" his voice was as soft as ever, you meet his eyes and hum as you start to walk towards him. " so how have you been, lero ro?"

"um, about the same I guess. I mean Quant hasn't gotten any more annoying so that's good." he chuckles to himself and brings a gloved hand up to his mouth. "What about you? Anything new?"

"well Dissy won't let me forget that my birthday is coming up, but besides that, everything's pretty much the same."

" oh? when is your birthday?" he looks at you with a puzzled face. "it's in 13 days. she has been counting down since the beginning of the month."

"mhm, I can see how that would be annoying. do you have anything planned?"

"Not that I know of, but Dissy's probably planning something."

He hums and turns to Quant. "Hey, are you almost done?" Quant nods and starts walking back with Dissy.

∆

Day of your birthday

You wake up hearing a knock at your door. When you go to answer it Dissy shots a confetti canon right in your face. "Happy birthday y/n! Imma set some stuff up so get out." She tells you, pushing you out of the door. You hadn't even brushed your teeth yet, but you decided to get coffee from the rankers lounge. As you walk in you see lero ro sitting peacefully on the sofa reading a book and sipping on what you guessed was tea. You walk over to the coffee machine and set it to make you a latte.

"Oh, hey. Are you okay? You don't look so good. " lero ro comments looking up at you. "Yeah Dissy just kicked me out to set up... a party I guess. She didn't even let me fix myself up."

"Do you want to come over to my place so you can get situated?"

"That would be nice, thank you." You say as the coffee machine goes off. Signaling that it was done making your drink.

When you guys get to lero ro's place he hands you a spare toothbrush and towel then walks you to his bathroom.

Looking around you notice how neat everything is and how it was all in there rightful places. It was mostly black marble with gold trimmings. On the sink you see what appears to be his cologne, you pick it up and gently pop off the cap. Bringing it up to your nose, it smells just like hunnybuns.

After your shower you walk into the living room and lero ro is right in the center of his couch looking intensely at his new lighthouse, his elbows on his knees, one hand supporting his head and the other hovering over the lighthouse. The yellow glow illuminated his face, making his eyes shine like the sun.

He sits back, crosses his arms and hums to himself. He then looks at you, appearing a little surprised. "You didn't take long. Did you?"

You giggle and start to walk over to where he was sitting. "I didn't want to hog the bathroom."

"Ah, you didn't have to do that. I have another one in my room, but thank you for consideration. Ya know, you're really nice. I've always liked that about you."

"Really? Thank you." You sit next to him and he slides closer to you. "Y/n?" His face was inches from yours. "Yeah?"

"What do you think about me?" He asks intently. "Mhm, I think you're a very... Talented person. You're smart, understanding, observant, very very patient and very passionate about what you do. I mean every time something comes up and it's in your field you go all out." He hums again and places a hand in yours. "That's not what I- ya know what. Y/n you are the most amazing person I've ever met and you have inspired me so much. Do you want to know what I think about you y/n?" You lean in closer, nodding, your noses almost touch and the light from his lighthouse makes the moment almost euphoric.

"I think that you are perfect for me y/n. I love you."

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

I know that I said it would be posted on Saturday, but I haven't gone to bed yet so it still counts

#fanfiction #tower of god x reader #tower of god #lero ro x reader #lero ro

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chao-writes-stuff · 3 years

Text

DELTARUNE SPOILERS

Heyyy! I wrote a thing involving Jevil and the Chapter 2 Superboss! I'm going to put it under the cut, but at the end, there will also be an Ao3 link if you wanna support me there!

Thank you! Remember to Reblog if you wanna

The Lightner Trio walked down the stairs in the Queen's massive manor, their hurried footsteps echoing like a rough pitter-patter in the technological nightmare. The massive lair confused and bamboozled them, but they definitely wanted to figure out the mystery behind what the Fountains were about, what Queen's true intentions were… and what was in the basement?

"Uhh… Kris?" Ralsei asked, his soft voice echoing out. "Why are we even here? Aren't Queen, Noelle, and Berdly upstairs? And not here…?"

Susie quickly interrupted him, punching his arm lightly to get his attention. "Of COURSE they aren't here. But whatever is here is probably important. Right, Kris?"

"I guess!" The currently blue human replied. "I've been asked by some… guy, about doing these weird favors for him. He really wants me to be alone."

"We sure he ain't a p-" Before Susie could finish her thought, Ralsei muffled her mouth with his scarf. "Who is he? And why does he want you to be alone?"

"His name is Spamton, I think. I don't know much about him, but he gave me this Loaded Disk earlier, and--"

Suddenly, a strange, chaotic voice rang out. Everyone recognized it. The tail attached to Ralsei's cloak popped off, diamonds and hearts flying out with it. The tail spun and took form, and the chaotic Jester they quite literally put to rest yesterday was reawakened.

"Spamton? SPAMTON? The same Spamton who wished for me to go, to go, and be free, free?" Jevil laughed chaotically, with Ralsei caught quite off guard. "You know him?"

"That dorito chip was part of the reason why I was set free, he was! He used to rule this world, before the Queen I've been hearing oh so much about took over. Oh, I MUST know more of how you met that ridiculous lunatic! And that's coming from ME, ME! Spamton, oh Spamton, I'd like to have a word with him~!" Jevil looked quite pissed off, his normally jovial expression looking slightly stern.

"I didn't wanna go down there anyway. Just come back, okay? You're kind of carrying us with your defense boost." Kris, with a neutral expression, gave the clown the disk they were gifted by the malignant salesman, and watched as Jevil immediately sprinted off into the basement. They could hear an echoed "Buh bye~! I'll be back in a few hundred words!" As the jester descended into the decrepit basement below...

Jevil entered the musty, rotting cellar. Despite him rarely stepping on the ground, each step he did take left a haunting impact on his feet. It was silent, save for the occasional rustling of his clothes. He didn't have long to do this. His physical form only had a few hours to be out and about before he solidified, just like the young boy and the puzzle freak. Thankfully, that's all he needed. He was getting excited, almost giddy, to interact once more with his old acquaintance. Oh, what a wonderful conversation they'd have!

He didn't walk for too much longer before he found the train station that was buried deep below. Or was it a roller coaster? Whoever had this built clearly had some elaborate roundabout in mind… too bad they were still imprisoned, haha! Jevil walked and floated across the tracks, reaching a room with a decaying robot inside.

He knew this was a bad idea. But when did he ever have good ideas?

Without hesitating, the joker put the disk into the robot. At first, nothing happened, and he was getting impatient VERY quick. He gave the robot a swift kick in the lower area, before stepping back out of the room.

Step…

SLAM! The clown was admittedly caught off guard with how fast the silhouette from above came and pushed him onto his knees. With a small gasp for air, Jevil looked up slowly at the encroaching menace. The jagged movements, the glitchy, unsolidified form… this was him alright.

"KRIS… MY LOYAL [Sponge!] THANK… YOU. THE [Clown Around Town!] I REMEMBER YOUR [Disgusting] FACE. EVERYONE WAS SO [Thrilled] TO SEE YOUR [Calcified] FACE." The massive robotic behemoth loomed over Jevil, rage in his glasses. Spamton NEO.

The clown got up, a smug, shitfaced expression on his mug. He knew damn well that the dorito in front of him was pissed off, so he leaned back in the air to retort. "At least I drink plenty of milk, uee hee hee! As for you, you haven't changed one bit since we last spoke~! Or would it be a byte, a byte? Regardless, I do hope you've given up on the illusion of freedom, freedom~! The only one who can be free is MEEE!"

The robotic menace swung around to the other side of Jevil, making it very clear who was in charge of the conversation. A small concentrated blast of Pipis was fired at the jester, pushing him back with a surprising amount of force. "YOU ACT SMUG, BUT YOU [Crashed our stocks!] AND THEN YOU [Spoiled relations with our Esteemed Partners!] I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU… GOT IN HERE, YOU… [Tuna Fish,] BUT I'M NOT FALLING FOR YOUR [Roundabout!] AGAIN!"

Jevil laughed maniacally at this thought. This guy was mad! Over something that happened how long ago? Why even bother holding a grudge still? Petty, petty! He knew why, and it's why he came back too. "You influenced him. That pretty little kitty. You gave him enough funds to release me into that carousel of bliss and innocence! But I wasn't done, not one bit! And all those years, spent being free… they made me realize something, my dearest Spamton."

The oddly calm tone coming from the jester put Spamton NEO at an incredible amount of unease. "WHAT? WHAT COULD YOUR [Calcified Lump] THINK OF THAT WOULD MEAN ANY GODDAMN THING TO ME?"

"I CAN DO ANYTHING!"

The joker used his latent power to pelt the giant mecha with small white hearts. Spamton was caught off-guard, stumbling back a fair amount. Of course, you have to fight fire with fire, so the robot used his abilities to send out a Big Shot of blue Spamton Head Pipis.

"YOU [Saturated Marketshare!] YOU CAN'T SIMPLY ATTACK ME AND EXPECT IT TO WORK [As seen on TV!] I'M A [BIG SHOT!] [BIG SHOT!!!]"

Jevil hopped up onto the ceiling, clearing the first few Pipis on the lower row heading his way. Unfortunately, the higher row caught him clean in the face as he bounced between the two, making a small Jack-in-the-box melody as he pinged around.

"SPAMTON, MY BELOATHED! I DON'T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND, UNDERSTAND, WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU'RE TRAPPED IN A CAGE WITH A SHARK, A SHARK! YOU GET BITTEN AND CHEWED UP!"

The fool retaliated by running circles around Spamton, turning into a carousel of horse bullets! The robot, in a surprising feat of puppeteering, dodged the attack almost perfectly… until a stray horsie cut a string, sending the mech's right arm into the horse race. One thing about arms with cannons on them? They fire.

As soon as it happened, Jevil was face to face with a swarm of Pipis all around him. He was stuck. All of them exploded brilliantly, sending the clown flying clean across the rotting tracks and into the wall. Tauntingly, mockingly even, Spamton NEO retorted.

"I'M THE SHARK NOW, JEVIL! I'VE CHEWED UP SO MANY [Failed Buisness Partners] THAT I COULD MAKE A WHOLE [Presentation] OUT OF THEM! STAY OUT OF MY GODDAMN WAY, OR [Sparkle like new!] YOU BRAT."

The buisnessman charged at Jevil, his hands becoming phones. "IT'S FOR YOU." Suddenly, before either of them could react, loud blasts of garbage noise manifest expelled from the phones, attacking the court jester with white blasts of energy. There was nothing he could do to stop this robot's onslaught, it looked like.

"OH SPAMTON, IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK? THAT YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S SO POWERFUL RIGHT NOW, NOW? I'D SUGGEST YOU LOOK UP, UP! YOU'RE NOTHING WITHOUT THOSE STRINGS IMPRISONING YOU, UEE HEE HEE! YOU'RE NOT A BIG SHOT, YOU'RE JUST A LAZY FRAUD WHO CAN'T STOP HANGING ON TO HIM! I GUESS SLEEPING FOR 100 YEARS DOESN'T MAKE LITTLE OLD ME MISS MUCH, RIGHT?"

Without warning, Jevil was myseriously gone from his corner. The spamware looked frantically for his target, before being struck in the arm, the leg, and the chest by scythes. Devilsknives. The last knive cut a few strings clean off the puppet, who briefly hit the ground before rising back up.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! [Hyperlink Blocked.] I'M STILL HIS LOYAL ASSOCIATE! HE MAY NOT HAVE TALKED TO ME IN [Employee of The Month for 144 months!] BUT HE'S STILL THERE…"

Jevil interrupted him cleanly and concisely. "FACE IT. YOU'RE NO BIG SHOT ANYMORE, SPAMTON G. SPAMTON. ALL YOU ARE IS A FAILED INVESTMENT, UEE HEE HEE!"

With those words, a purple blast came from behind the clown, striking the robot right in the noggin. He flew back a bit, giving the joker enough time to turn around to meet his esteemed guests.

"Ah, my imprisoners~! Didn't you guys have a Queen to rock-em sock-em?"

Susie immediately cut him off, as she punched him in the arm (causing his head to spring up, naturally.) "Well, Kris over here couldn't shake the feeling things were off. So they forced us down here, and now they're right. Somehow?"

"I know I'm right.. Jevil, who the hell is Spamton?" Kris replied, their worry about the situation starting to rise.

"It's of no concern to you~! His screws were almost as loose as mine, and I don't think it's my job to tighten them~! Uee hee hee! Thank you for the help, but I can do anything~! Even tell you guys that 3 coasters are about to come down and force you guys along for the ride~!"

Ralsei immediately stuttered something out. "Three… what?"

And just like that, with a loud rumbling, the heroes were swept up into 3 old, rusty carts, barrelling down the track. Jevil laughed to himself, proud of what he got to do. "Ah well, it's a shame I can't finish him personally…"

"But oh well! Are you proud, proud? They took care of him…"

"Doctor."

Ao3 Link!

#Deltarune #Deltarune Spoilers #Deltarune Chapter 2 #Jevil #spamton #kris #ralsei #susie #undertale #okay cool thank you byyyyeeeee

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hainethehero · 4 years

Text

The HARRINGROVE War AU that no one asked for...

"Jetty!"

"Oh fuck!"

"Fucking hell man! We're fucking dead-"

"Shut the fuck up Meyers!"

"Andrews! Get the medic!"

"Fuck- my goddamn arm!"

"Tommy-!"

The sounds are still in his head, knocking around his brain inside his skull. His eyes haven't closed in days and he's pretty sure his skin is falling off his bones. He feels sick and dirty and his hair feels dirty and unkempt. It had grown back so fast in the short period of time he'd been here... in Hell.

His body hurts, bones jarring and scraping against each other with every movement. There's a throbbing on the left side of his ribs, and the stinging pain of a festering wound on his right. It's been burning for days. His legs are sore, right leg wrapped up to the knee and oozing thick, dark red. The bandages around his head have started getting sticky with sickening ointment and congealed blood. His lips sting painfully every time he passes his tongue over them. They're cracked and busted in several places, red and raw where the skin's been opened.

God, what had they done to him?

He feels a presence near him and freezes, even though the bombs ringing in his head don't quite stop exploding.

"Hi Ms. Nancy, how's he been?"

"You're always right on time Soldier."

The woman's voice sounds familiar but he can't place it in his hazed state.

"I made him a promise." The man responds, a dark, echoing loneliness in his voice.

"Of course," Ms. Nancy replies, walking closer to fix something very near to his left side.

And somehow, his body fails him and goes stiff, sitting upright with his eyes wide and frightened. His jaw is locked tight and his fists are clenched, knuckles white. Every instinct in his body is warning him to get away- to run away from the danger, as if he'd be torn apart by the bomb Ms. Nancy was currently setting atop the bed. A terrified whine escapes his throat and a solitary tear runs down his pale cheek.

"He's been getting worse huh?" The Soldier asks, not unkindly, just kind of sad.

"So far, we've only seen nine cases of men recovering from shell-shock. It's not promising... one of them died last night."

"Died? Did it spread?"

"No Soldier. He put a gun in his mouth."

There's a sudden silence that falls over them, cold breeze billowing through the over-arching windows of the stone Catholic church they'd set up the triage in. Even the pained and terrified moans and cries of grown men had fallen into the hush, as if God himself were present.

Then Ms. Nancy speaks again:

"There's been a new shipment of iodine and sodium hydroxide today. From the French. We've been ordered to ration it but I think he needs his wounds cleaned again."

"Thank you."

........................

He hates when the nurse bathes him.

Hates how useless it makes him feel. Hates that he'd become so cowardly, like a child afraid of the dark. Her thin but gentle hands wash over him, soothingly passing the clean water over his skin, careful not to disturb the wounds. But he feels so wounded all over.

By the time he's back in bed, the night has taken over for the day, and hundreds of his comrades have already conceded to sleep. But he stays wide awake, terrified and paranoid that a bomb's going to go off in the middle of the night and kill everyone while they rest peacefully. So he keeps his rifle by his bedside, ready for a fight.

"Goodnight Soldier." Ms. Nancy says softly, not to him, but to the man sitting beside him.

The Soldier's been with him since the trenches. He was a good man, and a steady presence of stability in these crazy days. He could recall some kind of kinship between them, comprised of half-hearted banter, terrible jokes and early morning conversations that were for their ears only. Talking to him had made being in those vile and unsanitary trenches a little better. They often talked about being back home, safe and surrounded by friends who loved them. Their families were another story but that was beside the point.

"Got a letter today," the Soldier tells him, drinking out of an aluminium canteen. His finger twitches, almost as if he's fighting to respond but is paralyzed to do so.

"From Maxine."

Maxine was Soldier's sister...

She told me that my Dad and Susan were planning to move out of California. Stupid, right? She said something about Indiana, and starting over in a small town. Who knows pretty boy? They might even move to that good ol' Hawkins you keep telling me about."

Pretty Boy... that's Soldier's pet name for him.

"A letter came for you too. From your father."

He must've gasped in shock because suddenly the Soldier is staring up at him with those unreal blue eyes, lips slightly parted in surprise. He feels the Soldier's hand on his shoulder and it's warm and comforting. It beds down the shock a little bit; shock at the fact that his father had written a letter to him. He may have been in shell-shock but even his mind could recall the time when John Harrington said that he was dead to him. That until he'd made something of himself, he would never be accepted- would never be his son.

"Steve? You with me kid?"

Kid.

The Soldier always called him that, despite being not much older himself. He preferred that nickname to rookie though, since he'd only just started while the Soldier had been on this tour since late last year. He remembers the absolute feeling of dread that had filled his body when the draft had come around and his name was on that godforsaken piece of paper. His parents had been all too ecstatic to ship him off on his merry way. He'd been writing to them, feverishly begging for their mercy. Hadn't gotten a letter back since he'd started writing to them.

"Wh- ...what d...does it say?" he hears himself ask softly, throat shaking with emotion. "Can- ...um, can you read it to me Bill?"

Billy- no longer the abstract Soldier in his mind- sighs and leans over in the chair, elbows resting on his knees. He's holding a piece of paper in his hands, fists closed tight, his knuckles white.

"Please Bill..."

"Hold on pretty boy," Billy whispers as gently as he can, blue eyes staring hard at the neat, professional penmanship of who must've been John Harrington, Steve's father. It was concise and void of any kind of human emotion.

"Steve,

Stop sending us letters. It upsets your mother and I'm much too busy to sit down and write replies."

Billy feels his heart break into pieces for the poor kid and he doesn't have the heart to put him through such harsh words. He folds it up quickly and clears his throat.

"Y'know what? I brought Max's letter by accident."

"W- what?"

"Must've left it in the command wing. It's fine, we can always get it some other time."

Steve looks at him, big brown doe-eyes confused and sad at the same time. "What if it's an emergency?"

Billy scoffs. "Trust me, they ain't fighting a war back in ol' Hawkins. Your folks can wait. You on the other hand, need to get some sleep."

A soft smile creeps up on Steve's pretty face and he blushes soft pink. "Well at least tell me what's been going on Boss."

That was his pet name for Billy.

"Where's Tommy?"

Billy's expression suddenly changes and he's no longer pained. Just angry. And lost and so fucking confused. War brought out the worst in men, and it was always hard to fight alongside the corpses of men he'd spent weeks, months in the trenches with. They were all family, and losing even one of them was the worst pains Billy had ever faced.

Steve's hopeful expression turns ever so slightly and now he looks awfully worried.

"Bill? Billy where's Tommy?"

Billy glances up into the kid's eyes and sees nothing but hopelessness there as realization dawns upon him. Steve bursts into wailing tears and crashes back onto the pillows, hands covering his face. His wails trigger some of the sleeping men and they wake up in a shock, disgruntled yells and curses filling the large hall.

"Settle down Soldier," a tired looking nurse hisses, looking more panicked than mad. She gives Billy a pointed glare and goes about on her way to putting the terrified men back to sleep.

Billy sighs and shushes Steve as gently as he can, petting the boy's soft hair until he quiets. He feels a weariness wash over him and crawls into the bed to lay down next to the kid. Steve wastes no time in burying his face in Billy's neck, silent sobs wracking through his frail body. Billy wraps him up in his arms, a scalding hot wave of protectiveness flaring inside his chest.

"It's okay kid, I've got you. I promise," he whispers in Steve's ear, stroking his back in slow, deliberate motions. The pretty brunette cries and cries until he cries himself to sleep, snuggled into the larger soldier, as if he was the only protection he needed.

Billy just holds him through the night.

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