#Was it ever alive in the tickling community?

[stnkiconverse]

Anybody of your choice with a reader who likes to randomly bite for no reason

-👽

How about everyone?

Creepypastas x Reader who likes to bite

Ticci Toby

1. Playful Bites:

- You have a habit of playfully nipping at Toby’s arms or shoulders when you’re feeling particularly affectionate. He always laughs and pretends to be offended, but secretly he loves it.

- Toby's tics might make him a bit jumpy at first, but he quickly gets used to your playful bites and even starts looking forward to them.

2. Affectionate Gestures:

- Toby enjoys the unique way you show affection. Your bites are never harsh, and they make him feel special and adored in your own quirky way.

- Sometimes, Toby will bite you back, though he's always gentle, mimicking your playful nibbles with a grin on his face.

3. Comfort and Calming:

- When Toby is stressed or anxious, you gently bite or kiss his knuckles or the back of his hand. The familiar sensation helps ground him and brings him a sense of comfort.

4. Inside Jokes:

- The two of you develop a series of inside jokes about your biting habits. Toby will often tease you about being a “little vampire” (GIRL YOURE MY FAVORITE, sorry, its a kpop reference) or “his personal piranha,” always with a playful glint in his eyes.

- You respond by pretending to bare your teeth and growl, which never fails to make Toby laugh.

5. Public Reactions:

- In public, your biting habits can sometimes catch others off guard. Toby finds it amusing when people react, but he also loves how unique and unapologetically yourself you are.

- Toby has been known to protectively explain to others that it’s just your way of showing affection, ensuring no one misunderstands or disrespects you for it.

Ben Drowned

1. Playful Mischief:

- Ben finds your biting habit absolutely adorable and matches it with his own playful nature. He often encourages you by pretending to run away or daring you to catch him.

- Your playful bites often lead to laughter-filled chases and impromptu tickle fights, making your relationship feel light-hearted and fun.

2. Virtual Bites:

- When Ben is in his digital form, you tease him by pretending to bite your screen, which makes him laugh and play along, sometimes glitching the screen as if he’s been “bitten.”

- He occasionally sends you silly gifs of biting or nibbling, keeping your playful dynamic alive even when he’s not physically present.

3. Casual Bites:

- Ben loves to watch you while you’re focused on something, waiting for the perfect moment to lean in and “surprise bite” you. It’s his way of keeping things spontaneous and exciting.

- Your biting habit often catches Ben off guard in the best way. Whether it’s a gentle nip on his ear or a playful bite on his arm, he loves the unpredictability of it.

4. Protective Instincts:

- Despite his mischievous nature, Ben is very protective of you. If anyone ever mocks your biting habit, he’s quick to shut them down, making it clear that he loves you just the way you are.

- Your biting habit becomes a form of affectionate reassurance for Ben, reminding him that you’re always there and that your bond is strong.

Eyeless Jack

1. Calming Times:

- Your gentle bites become a calming thing for Jack. When he’s stressed from his medical tasks or haunted by memories of his past, your affectionate nibbles or gentle kisses help ground him.

- Jack appreciates the intimacy of your bites. They remind him that he’s not alone and that someone cares deeply for him, despite his monstrous appearance.

2. Quiet Affection:

- Jack isn’t one for grand displays of affection, but your bites fit perfectly with his understated nature. A soft bite on his shoulder while he’s reading or a gentle nip on his hand while you’re walking together speaks volumes to him.

- Your biting habit becomes a silent way to communicate your love, something Jack deeply values and reciprocates in his own quiet manner.

3. Medical Curiosity:

- Jack is curious about the physiological reasons behind your biting habit. When he asked you about it, you answered with “I just like doing it”, leading to him finding it fascinating and endearing.

- Sometimes, Jack will gently bite you back (bcs of his teeth), experimenting with different ways to reciprocate your affection while ensuring he's always gentle and caring.

4. Shared Solitude:

- The two of you often spend time in abandoned places, enjoying the solitude. Your biting habit fits well with these quiet moments, adding a layer of comfort and intimacy to your explorations.

- Jack finds your bites reassuring, a reminder that even in the quietest, most desolate places, he has someone who understands and accepts him.

5. Late-Night Conversations:

- During your late-night conversations, you often kiss/nibble Jack’s hand or arm when he says something particularly insightful or touching. It’s your way of showing appreciation and connection without interrupting the flow of conversation.

- Jack has a dry sense of humor and occasionally teases you about your biting, calling you his “little predator” (which you send glares his way when he does so)with a rare, affectionate smile.

Jeff The Killer

1. Playful Defiance:

- Jeff is initially taken aback by your biting habit but quickly grows to enjoy it. Your playful defiance matches his chaotic energy, and he finds it both amusing and endearing.

- Your bites often lead to mock battles, with Jeff pretending to be “attacked” and dramatically retaliating with tickles or playful wrestling.

2. Boundary Testing:

- Jeff likes to push boundaries, and your biting habit becomes a game of who can surprise the other first. He’ll sneak up on you and pretend to bite you back, always keeping things lively and unpredictable.

- Despite his rough exterior, Jeff appreciates the unique way you show affection. It adds a sense of normalcy and connection in his otherwise tumultuous life.

3. Affection Amidst Chaos:

- In the midst of Jeff’s chaotic world, your biting habit becomes a source of stability. It’s a small, constant reminder that there’s something tender and real amidst all the violence and madness.

- Jeff might not say it outright, but your bites make him feel cared for in a way he hasn't experienced before. It's a comforting contrast to his usual interactions.

4. Protective Reactions:

- Jeff is fiercely protective of you, especially because of your biting habit. If anyone mocks or misunderstands it, he’s quick to defend you with his usual brashness.

- Your bites are a reminder to Jeff that he has someone who sees beyond his violent tendencies, someone who cares for the person he is underneath.

5. Unexpected Softness:

- Over time, Jeff becomes surprisingly soft when it comes to you. Your bites are the only form of physical contact he doesn’t recoil from, and he even starts to look forward to them.

- Jeff might occasionally let his guard down and return your bites, albeit clumsily, showing a rare moment of vulnerability and affection.

Jane The Killer

1. Soft Moments:

- Jane is initially wary of your biting habit, but she soon realizes it’s your way of showing affection. Over time, she grows to appreciate it, especially during quiet moments when you’re alone together.

- Your bites become a way to break through her emotional guard, reminding her that it's okay to feel and express love.

2. Tender Affection:

- Despite her tough exterior, Jane has a soft spot for you. Your gentle nibbles on her hand or shoulder are a reminder of the gentler side of life, something she often misses in her dark world.

- Jane reciprocates in her own way, sometimes brushing her fingers lightly across your skin or giving you a soft kiss in return.

3. Silent Communication:

- Your biting becomes a form of silent communication between you two. A gentle nip on her ear or arm tells Jane you’re there for her without needing words, which she finds comforting.

- In tense situations, a quick bite can calm Jane down, helping her focus and reminding her she’s not alone.

4. Protective Nature:

- Jane is highly protective of you, especially when she notices others reacting to your biting habit. She’s quick to defend your unique way of showing affection, ensuring no one misunderstands or disrespects you.

- Your bites become a symbol of trust and safety, reinforcing the bond between you two in a world full of danger and deception.

5. Shared Solitude:

- The two of you often enjoy moments of solitude, where your biting habit fits perfectly. It’s a small, intimate act that brings comfort and closeness without needing to say much.

- Jane finds these moments soothing, a rare respite from her usual life of constant vigilance and danger.

Nina The Killer

1. Playful Affection:

- Nina loves your biting habit. It matches her nature, and she often initiates playful bite-fights, laughing as you both try to outdo each other.

- Your bites become a regular part of your interactions, a fun and affectionate way to express your feelings.

2. Cute Moments:

-She often teases you about being her “little biter” and encourages you to keep it up.

- Nina might respond with her own playful nibbles, turning it into a game that keeps both of you entertained and connected.

3. Mutual Protection:

- Nina is fiercely protective of you, especially because of your unique way of showing affection. She admires how unapologetically yourself you are and makes sure no one mocks or misunderstands your biting habit.

- Your bites remind Nina that she has someone who truly understands and accepts her, which is rare in her chaotic life.

4. Shared Excitement:

- Your biting habit fits perfectly with Nina’s love for excitement. It becomes a part of your shared adventures, adding an element of spontaneity and fun.

- Nina often initiates playful challenges, daring you to bite her in unexpected moments, making your relationship dynamic and full of surprises.

5. Comforting Presence:

- Despite her tough exterior, Nina finds your bites comforting. They remind her that she’s not alone and that someone genuinely cares for her.

- Your biting habit becomes a way to bring Nina back to reality when she's feeling overwhelmed, grounding her with a simple, affectionate act.

Homicidal Liu

1. Gentle Affection:

- Liu is initially surprised by your biting habit but quickly grows to appreciate it. Your gentle nibbles on his hand or arm are a welcome reminder of affection in his otherwise tumultuous life.

- He finds your bites soothing, a way to ground himself when he’s struggling with his internal conflicts.

2. Grounding Presence:

- Your bites become a grounding presence for Liu, especially during moments when he’s mentally battling with Sully or dealing with his PTSD. They remind him of your unwavering support and love.

- Liu appreciates how your bites help him stay connected to reality, offering a sense of stability amidst his emotional turmoil.

3. Silent Understanding:

- The two of you develop a silent understanding through your bites. A gentle nip on his shoulder or arm tells Liu that you’re there for him without needing words, which he finds comforting.

- In moments of distress, your bites become a way to reassure Liu that he’s not alone and that you’re always there to support him.

4. Protective Instincts:

- Liu is highly protective of you, especially because of your biting habit. He ensures no one mocks or misunderstands it, making it clear that it’s a special part of your relationship.

- Your bites symbolize trust and safety for Liu, reinforcing the bond between you two in a world full of danger and betrayal.

5. Shared Solitude:

- The two of you often enjoy moments of quiet solitude, where your biting habit fits perfectly. It’s a small, intimate act that brings comfort and closeness without needing to say much.

- Liu finds these moments calming, a rare respite from his usual life of constant vigilance and danger. Your bites become a reminder of the love and trust you share, something he cherishes deeply.

Hope this was good enough!!

[blue-slxt]

Imagine petite!human reader literally being used as a living fleshlight😩

Like she’s so small she can just be lifted off the ground and pounded🥴

Honestly don’t even care who it’s written for feels like a Jake, lo’ak, or quaritch kinda senecio

Sincerely, a no where near petite girlie

Thank you so much for your patience. I've been working on like a million different things at the same time so I am so behind on requests. But I looove this idea. Something about just being manhandled however your partner wants you to be is so fucking aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhh😩! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this.

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Smut under the cut.

“Make sure you don’t break my bed with your big ass.” You playfully scold Lo’ak while pulling on your spaghetti strap shirt. He flops his entire body weight onto your bed making it creak. It was times like this when you really took note of just how big of a size difference there was between you. Of course, the Na’vi were much bigger than average humans already, but you were even on the small side for humans. Watching how his body can’t fit properly on your bed while you could be swallowed whole by your sheets and blankets never ceased to amaze you. He waves you off with a ‘yeah, yeah’ while he makes himself comfortable putting his hands under his head. You roll your eyes at him and start to search through all the DVDs you have for something for you two to watch.

“What are you in the mood for this time? Something funny? Romantic? Dramatic?” you fire off the different genres as you toss aside disc after disc.

“Hmm…” he dramatically hums thinking about his answer.

You don’t bother to look at him while he mulls it over and you continue searching. You faintly comprehend the sound of him shuffling and moving around behind you, but you pay it no mind until a pair of big hands find their way on your small frame. Lo’ak’s lips brush lightly over the back of your neck and it almost tickles when he speaks.

“I think I’m in the mood for something sexy” he presses kisses onto your neck and shoulder.

“You are so corny” you say with a laugh, but you still lean into his touch anyway.

“Just put on whatever. I’d rather watch you anyway.” His low voice in your ear makes your nerves come alive with this intense fluttering all over your body. His impatience is rubbing off on you so you hurriedly throw whatever you can reach into the player without really bothering to look at what it is. Once the movie starts playing, you turn around to face Lo’ak and he immediately swipes you up off the floor and your legs lock around his waist while he presses his lips to yours. Holding onto him like this gives you the perfect feel of his cock straining against his tewng and poking you right between your legs. Clearly, he can feel it too from how his hands hold your hips and grind you down against him. Every move brushes against your covered clit and gives you small tingles of satisfaction, but it’s not enough. He’s got you so riled up now that you decide to have a little more fun and push his limits. On any given day, Lo’ak could, and would, fuck you until your body felt like jelly. But on occasion, he would lose himself and by the end, even your brain would feel numb and fuzzy filled with nothing but him possessing you completely. That’s exactly what you need right now.

Without warning, you unfold your legs from around him and let go completely dropping to your feet on the ground. His puzzled expression is nothing short of adorable.

“Shit, I just remembered that I have a report to finish” you say walking over to your computer desk and sitting down.

“Babe, you have got to be kidding me right now.” You were never one to deny Lo’ak what he asked for. Ever. Not even when you would join the clan for communal dinner and he would pull you off into the dark out of view of everyone else.

“It’s only going to take a few minutes, Lo.” You say sitting down and pulling your hair forward and exposing your neck. Lo’ak groans behind you. You know how much he loves when you present your neck for him to mark. He’s starting to catch on to your little game. If he wants it, he’s going to have to take it.

“If it’s only going to take a couple minutes, then do it after” he says pulling your chair away from your desk and over to the bed. He spins you around to face him and heat settles between your thighs at the way he’s eyeing you right now. “I need you, mamas.”

“You’re doing a whole lot of talking and yet, I’m still fully clothed” you say with a sly smirk.

He chuckles lowly to himself, “oh, you are asking for it.” In one swift motion, Lo’ak pulls you onto his lap by your waist. Your hands brace against his chest to keep yourself from flying forward. His face settles in the crook of your neck and he nips lightly at your skin making you jump.

“Now, am I going to have to rip these cute little shorts off of you or are you gonna behave and take them off yourself?”

“Don’t…I like these ones.” You whine.

“Then get rid of them. Right now.”

You shift yourself around so that you can maneuver out of your shorts while he pulls his tewng to the side to expose his thick, hard cock that was already leaking precum from the tip.

“Already so hard, love. Is that for m—”

“Don’t try to get cute with me” Lo’ak cuts you off by grabbing you by your waist and slamming you down onto his dick in one quick snap.

It feels like an electric shock is shot up your spine and goes straight to your head being immediately filled to the brim. He gives you no time to adjust before he’s fully lifting your body by your waist up and down on his cock.

“Ah! Fu-ck! Lo-ak!” Your words and breaths are broken from how he’s making you bounce on top of him.  

“Shit, your pussy is so fuckin perfect” he says through gritted teeth.

His big hands on your smaller frame completely take control of your movements and you have no choice but to let him have his way with you. His dick continues to bully its way into your tight cunt and kiss your cervix making your toes curl.

“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum inside of you, mama. You want that, hm? Want me to fill you up?” his voice is lighthearted, but you can tell from the look in his eyes and his laser focus on you how close he really is and how badly he wants to give you everything.

“Yes, yes, yes, please Lo’ak!” your vision is already starting to spot as you near your own high while he keeps using you as his own personal fuck toy.

“Hng, shit!” he bucks his hips up to match the way he’s moving your body for you a few more times before the heat of his cum starts to fill you from the inside out. It sends you over the edge into your own orgasm and your pussy clamps down on him even tighter if that was even possible. Lo’ak sucks in a sharp breath feeling how tight you are around him and his forehead falls forward onto your chest waiting for you to stop milking him for all he’s worth.

His hands finally let go of your waist and they fall to sit on top of your thighs while you both try to catch your breath.

Suddenly the TV booms from across the room, “I am Bruce Almighty! My will be done!” making both of you snap your head in its direction.

“What the fuck movie did you put on?” Lo’ak laughs breathlessly.

“I have no fucking clue and I kind of don’t really care” you laugh equally out of breath. “But it looks like we still have some time before it’s over…” you lightly suggest.

He already knows what’s on your mind and a devilish smirk crosses his face.

[99solaris]

home • pezzy

pairing: pezzy x gn!reader wc: 1.5k warnings: if you squint its angst ... fine balance with fluff song pairing: home by michael buble a/n: hello everyone!!! i am new to the frouse / clooless / goons writing community and thought i would throw my two cents into the bucket of writers. currently not taking requests since i am balancing studies next to this - maybe in the future (hopefully!) - i hope whoever reads enjoys it!!! feedback is always appreciated (:

The house always seemed to feel so much bigger when there wasn’t a second person to fill it. Evenings felt longer when the only sound to accompany you was the TV playing some random show and the added purring from Sly on your lap. It felt like life was put in slow motion, yet, you were still moving forward in real time. You feel slightly embarrassed for how much you actually miss him, even though he had only left the day before.

Max had agreed to go to Vegas for a boys trip over the weekend. He had talked about wanting to go back for months, frequently making jokes about how he ‘’needs to gamble’’ and ‘’I can hear the machines calling my name’’. All light fun with laughs and rolling of eyes. Muttering a low ‘’So is therapy’’ in response, earning an over the top shocked response from Max and a loud ‘’How dare you!’’.

When he was leaving, he nearly clinged on you for dear life. ‘’Remember to keep an eye on Sly,’’ he mentions, arms keeping a tight hold around your waist as he’s scanning the area behind you, ‘’Don’t let him out.’’ ‘’As if I have ever done that,’’ you respond, giving a soft shove to his shoulder and a quiet giggle. ‘’I’ll text you when I get there,’’ he says, his thumbs rubbing small circles on your lower back, ‘’And I’ll text you before I go to bed, when I go pee, when I am eating-’’ he says, rambling on before he shuts up when you place a kiss on his lips. ‘’Just send me a text when you can, just so I know that you’re alive, idiot,’’ you murmured against his lips. He hums in agreement before his lips leave yours, only to pepper gentle kisses on your cheek, nose, forehead, his eyelashes tickling your skin. ‘’Go, Max,’’ you giggle as he teasingly starts kissing down your neck, ‘’you have a plane to catch, yeah?’’. ‘’Just one more kiss,’’ he says, ‘’and then I go.’’ You shake your head and let him press the last kiss on your lips, gently squeezing you as if when he lets go, you would disappear. His hold on your waist slowly releases as he picks up his bags and slings them over his shoulder, shoulders slump as he gives an actor worthy dramatic sigh before turning around to leave. It’s only 3 days, how bad can it be?

Actually unbearable for the both of you - and so for his friends. They’ve implemented a rule that Max is not allowed to mention you within the first hour of being in Vegas, others have started betting on how long he can hold it in. ‘’Hey, I know you love them, dude,’’ Puffer says at some point, hands rubbing at his face, ‘’but can you please, please, just talk about something else?’’. The group laughs at the comment as Max can’t do anything but blush, scratching his neck and accepts the teasing he’s going to endure.

On the other side, you sit at home and scroll your Instagram feed, rather mindless as you don’t seem to be caught up in anything in front of you. A day has passed since Max left and it would be a lie if you said it hadn’t been hard falling asleep without him next to you. Most of Day 2 of ‘’Waiting for my Husband (Max) to return from war (Vegas)’’ was spent texting back and forth funny bits they had seen through the day, pictures of pure devastation and jubilations of wins and losses.

Cat Dad(dy): ‘’Just lost 200 dollars’’ Babe<3: ‘’Guess we’ll be eating bread and beans for the rest of the month’’ Cat Dad(dy): ‘’Trust the process, babe’’.

It lifted your mood whenever the notification ding would sound. For those small seconds it would feel like he was in the room down the hall, streaming, sending you texts about if you wanted to make some dinner (together, of course, as he always makes sure to note) or if you should order out. But he’s not. He’s somewhere too far away, probably hyping up Droid to go all-in on a bet, only for him to most likely lose it all. 

Cleaning up after making dinner, having given Sly her food as well, giving her some head scratches before she digs in, you hear your phone ring. You don’t even bother looking at who is calling, since you already know who it is.

‘’Hey Max,’’ you say, a smile on your face already forming, ‘’you need any lunch money?’’ you joke, earning a laugh from his side of the phone. ‘’No, no, I’ve actually won the money back I lost!’’ he says, answering the question from earlier, ‘’but I actually called to say that,’’ he continues before a heavy sigh leaves his lips, ‘’to say that I miss you.’’ ‘’I miss you too, Max,’’ you respond, ‘’like, a stupid amount.’’ ‘’I didn’t think I would miss you this much either,’’ he says, quickly continuing, ‘’but I do! I do miss you, a lot, like a parking lot.’’ A silly inside joke you’ve created early in the relationship. The call goes on, sharing more stories of what has happened, at various points you can hear the boys yell in the background, sometimes they would be on the phone and you got to hear each point of view of the story. Listening and responding as well as possible, even though a knot is forming in your stomach from wishing he was home instead and telling all these stories, curled up in his arms, hearing his heartbeat and the warmth of his body against yours. You haven’t noticed it yet, but the line has gone quiet. Max notices you haven’t responded in a while.

‘’What are you thinking about, babe?’’ he questions, making you return to the present. You fiddle with the bottom of your shirt, trying to suppress the stomach feeling as you utter a small, ‘’I wish you were home, Max.’’. It’s quiet again before you hear him sigh. ‘’I wish I was there too,’’ he responds as you can hear him move around, probably to get away from the attention of the boys. You look around the living room, how the sun is starting to set, casting soft shadows in the living room. If you imagine hard enough, you can nearly see Max walk around the room, fresh out of bed in only his pajama pants with Sly running after him. It brings a small smile to your face, reminiscing those many mornings you’ve had together. Though, it’s cut short as small sniffles break the silence. ‘’Are you okay?’’ you ask quietly and he laughs half-heartedly. ‘’It’s so stupid, isn’t it?’’ he says with a sharp inhale, ‘’It’s only been a day without you and it’s like I’m having withdrawals.’’

‘’I’m your Vegas slot machine now,’’ you try and joke, and it lands since he’s laughing on the other end. ‘’Yeah,’’ he says, ‘’yeah, you’re my slot machine and you are calling my name right now.’’ ‘’What are the voices saying?’’ you ask. ‘’That I come home,’’ he responds, a break before he continues, ‘’But I can’t right now,’’ he says and you can nearly hear him carting his hand through his hair, ‘’the boys would be so pissed if I did.’’

‘’Do what you think is right,’’ you reply, ‘’but don’t come home for me. If you want to come home early, it should be because you want to, Max.’’ He’s quiet, probably chewing on his lip, thinking the possibilities through. It has gotten dark outside since you’ve started the call, hours having passed by so easy. ‘’I’ll think about it, okay?’’ he says, ‘’I can’t promise anything-’’ ‘’And that’s alright. Text me when you know anything, ok?’’ you quickly interrupt him. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to and he knows that. ‘’You know that I love you, right?’’ he comments, hearing his smile through the phone. ‘’I love you too, Max,’’ you respond before you both agree to end the call. 

And so you wait. Moving from the living room to the bedroom. Waiting hours laying in bed. You don’t want to fall asleep in case he calls or texts. But your eyelids are getting heavier and heavier, turning into a battle between you and your eyes to stay awake, since the rest of your body is ready to sleep. You look at your phone one last time. 3:48 in the morning. No messages, no calls.

Eventually, you fall asleep against your will.

When you wake up, it’s bright outside. Sitting up in bed, you check your phone and still nothing from him. You open your phone and are about to send him a message, when you hear a click. The pitter patter of Sly’s paws against the floor, the thump of something heavy landing on the floor, the floor starting to creak under the weight, footsteps nearing the bedroom and the door opens. 

‘’I missed you too much.’’

[planetdream]

STRANGE DREAMS !

CHARACTERS ! incubus/demon!hyunjin, reader

GENRE ! horror, smut [minors dni]

WORDS ! 7.8k [more or less]

SYNOPSIS ! sometimes, you meet a strange man in your dreams. this is one of those times.

THIS FIC CONTAINS ! edible-fueled writing. horror [gore—body horror: descriptions of blood and mutilated bodies. frightening figures and situations. description of drowning. nightmares and sleep paralysis. demons, and thus], references to biblical lore [christianity] and small references to milton's paradise lost [if you squint], and smut [dubcon—sexual manipulation and sex pollen, sorta. d/s dynamics—predator versus prey. possession/corruption. vaginal and anal sex. pussy and face slapping. teasing. fingering. spit. squirting. face fucking. degradation. strength kink sorta. sex with a demon—in demon form. monster cock. lots of cum]

⚠️ if you’re sensitive to gore, be advised before reading. i tried to be tame and brief with descriptions, and although i consider it to be light gore, i understand everyone has their limits. so proceed with caution.

💌 posting this earlier than originally planned cuz why not!! got the idea for this fic a year ago after an edible. it’s very weird n self indulgent but i’m glad i finally finished it !! i hope someone enjoys it <3 i always appreciate feedback !!

You’re certain that it’s the sky you’re gazing into—though, you’re unsure because your vision is unclear, a milky haze clouding your pupils—but the longer you look at it, the more it spins and distorts, bringing on nausea that rises in waves from the pit of your stomach to the top of your head. The nausea brings on a discomfort; dryness in your mouth and a straining in your eyes, and because of that, you’re left with no choice but to close your eyes and let your other senses take over. Darkness surrounds you, and it feels like you have risen into the sky, despite grass being beneath you, and it’s soft, comfortable; almost like you could sink deeper into it before reaching the hard, frigid dirt. You grab the blades of grass with a tight fist, tugging on it, but still unwilling to pull it out as if you would cause harm. Then, the grass all around you becomes apparent—alive—moving against your skin in a response back to you. It tickles all over, building the realization that you lay naked in the grass, though unwilling to get up or cover yourself; lost within the pure contentment of the situation. 

There is a wave that sways over you—hot, heavy, and harsh, yet not too overbearing in its nature. You don’t know why, but there’s a sense of familiarity about when you are. It’s as if you’ve been here before, a distant memory that both chills and warms you. 

Along with the burbling sound of water pouring into itself, the smell of water whisks in the cool breeze—slightly sweet, green and alluring; whistling your name, calling out for you to come over. The whispering is intriguing, full of temptation but slightly melancholic; no words need be said, yet you understand the language of the waters. The whispers are loud, blaring; not in the sense of volume, but by how jarring it is—unlike anything you’ve heard and yet, it’s something you feel so acquainted with, like a long-time friend. The water cries, begging for you to bathe within it or drink from it and promises a sweet taste that could be comparable to honey and lemons. 

When you open your eyes again, everything is clear. The plants around you are breathing, communicating through the whistles of the wind; and just like the water, the plants cry out as well. Though, the cries of the flowers and trees are far different from the cries of the water. The cries of the water nearby sing a great harmony of promise and belief, whereas, the cries of the many trees screech of terror and agitation. They warn of what horrors can be witnessed here, of what great dangers are lurking within them. A sweet song of catastrophe. The flowers, however,—with captivating colors unlike anything you’ve ever seen, yet familiar; like the names of them are on the tip of your tongue, begging to be acknowledged and praised—cry differently. It’s a murmur most comparable to the feeling of silk against your hands, but also the feeling of goosebumps after a close encounter with something you shouldn’t have crossed paths with. A comfortable discomfort. 

You look around, fully taking in the picture of what presents itself around you. There are butterflies varying in size and species—they sing as well, something similar to a war cry; morbid and haunting, though still beautiful and in great faith. Dragonflies buzz around, securing their place and status within the area. So much life here—at peace in this paradise. There’s some kind of haze or mist in the air, silent and still, tranquil. The sun is bright, blazing hot and practically piercing, yet despite the warmth, the air is slightly cool. The sight of your surroundings further cements your previous feelings of familiarity. Yet it also uncovers sheer discomfort. Yes, the area is familiar, but there’s something unsettling and distinctly different about it. A discomfort layering in the air, horribly beautiful and homely, but pandemonium is lurking, lurched and hidden within the shadows of this seeming paradise. 

You roll over in the grass—laying on your stomach and lifting your head to see beyond what you could before. Not too far from your current position is a waterfall, continuing its whispers. The spring below is surrounded by unusual pink flowers and huge rocks covered in thick, green and yellow moss. Before you can process it, you’re on your feet and moving towards the spring. Once there, you kneel, gazing at your reflection in the waters. It’s almost too much to process but it’s you. It is you and yet it’s like the face you wear does not belong to you. Uncanny and off putting. 

Movement. On your left, deep in the periphery of the spring. Your eyes shift, tracking whatever chooses to present itself. A swan. Elegant and pristine. It cranes its neck, beak pointing towards you in acknowledgment. You make full eye contact, and a chill runs up your spine causing your hair to stand on edge. An inflamed feeling of danger sparks within you, and before you have time to fight or run as far away as possible—“There you are!” 

The voice comes from your right, but when you look in that direction, there’s nothing there.  “So this is where you ran off to.”

The physical energy of the presence behind you is familiar, but strikingly overwhelming—it crawls up your skin like sharp nails, giving you goosebumps—you don’t need to turn around to recognize it. It’s Him. You’re unsure of what he is, exactly, but sometimes you meet him in your dreams. Though deep down you know that his existence and connection to you reaches well beyond the odd worlds of your dream realm. When he touches you, your surroundings change. The waterfall that you were once at is yards away, tiny in perspective. Despite having not moved an inch, it seems that every time you blink, you’re further and further into the woods; trees surrounding you and most certain to bury any noises emitted within their leaves.

The rustling of the tree leaves sounds like a screech, almost like sharp nails against a chalkboard—sinking deep and clashing, scraping out the porcelain enamel. The sound alone affects your brain, echoing in your mind, blaring enough to make you hold your hand against your head. The sound stops once he presses his hand against your cheek—so cold it feels like burning fire, almost scalding enough to melt off your skin; but you do not flinch, nor do you back away, frozen in place. The feeling of his skin against yours evokes an emotional aching so deep, you can feel it festering in the pit of your stomach, spreading to your organs and seeping into your veins—and somehow there is comfort in that. 

He’s speaking, and while you’re unable to make out the words he is saying, you can tell that his voice is soft, pillowy like a cloud. Honey-laced words dipping from his tongue as if he’s trying to convince or ask something of you. You avert your gaze, unsure of if you actually want to meet his eyes. 

His presence scares you just as much as it calms you. Intriguing, and homely but also frightening and domineering despite simply just standing there. Something about his demeanor feels off, or distorted, at the very least, as if he’s not actually in front of you. As if he was a result of your imagination instead of directly in your eyes view. He’s real, a hand against your skin, almost close enough for you to feel his breath lightly against your skin; and at the very least, he knows you. You know him, too, you think; of course, you’ve seen him in your dreams, but you’re inclined to believe you know him from somewhere else. 

“Where are we?” You ask him, avoiding eye contact, shaking away from the contact his hand makes with you. Jarringly, it doesn’t feel like you said anything at all. Your mouth was moving and the words presented themselves in your mind and yet you can’t hear a single thing you’re saying. The familiar fire within your throat when you speak is no longer there. 

“The Garden. It’s perfect here, isn’t it?” He gives you a small smile, seemingly understanding your indistinct confusion. Then, as he speaks up again, his voice drips with something resembling woe. “You and I used to live here a long time ago. I visit every so often, dip my legs into that spring back there, and then I reminisce on how pure life was back then before…” 

You think he’s talking again, but once again, you’re unable to hear him. You’re too busy lost in his face. The urge to press your lips against his gets stronger as you’re next to him. Then you realize he’s naked as well, and your entire body gets warmer. There’s a budding ache inside you that’s all too familiar, growing at a rapid pace. It’s almost like your body is on fire as a result of being within his presence. Hormones floating, hair standing on edge, your more sensual and raw instincts ready to unveil and latch onto him at any time. Head hurting the longer you’re in his presence until it all just stops. 

Everything stops. The trees are no longer rustling, birds no longer humming. There’s no splashing of the waterfall nor whistling in the wind. Just pure silence. The silence is uncomfortable, and causes you to stand still in your tracks like a deer, scared that if you make any sudden moves a predator might attack within the blink of an eye; jumping on you and tearing you apart in a bloody mess of flesh and organs flying everywhere, painting the fallen deep green leaves a perfect contrast of crimson. 

“Run,” He says. There’s nothing in his voice; no emotion nor a slight hint at what he’s thinking. But the word echoes in your mind, and sends a chill down your spine, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on edge in either curiosity or total blood curdling fear. 

“What do you mean?”

“You need to run,” His voice drops lower. “And don’t get caught.”

So you turn your heels and you run, not willing to ask him twice. Unsure of the direction you’re going in, but the further you seem to travel, the more that discomfort begins to settle in the pit of your stomach. You pick up the pace—one foot in front of the other, careful not to trip over yourself—but a small part of you isn’t sure if the danger that you’re sensing is real or just a part of a sick and twisted game. Instead of running away from the source of your terror, it seems as though you’re running towards it, no matter the direction you run. Twigs and leaves snapping and crunching beneath your feet, but it causes you no pain. In fact, the only thing you can feel in the moment is the thumping of your heart and every single milliliter of blood marching through your vessels.

You admittedly don’t make it too far before you’re cowering, ducking against a large tree. Heart racing with such speed that you’re almost positive it would break free of your ribcage, piercing its way out of your chest. The tree, however, as quickly as you found it, is no longer a place of solace, as you hear a long, loud, and deep growl to your left. The deep guttural sound echoing, slicing through the trees like machetes. You’ve got to move, but you fear that if you do, whatever it is that made that sound, might attack, ripping you to shreds before you’ve even got a chance to exhale. There’s a roar once again, this time uncomfortably closer to your hiding place. You stand still, and the surrounding area of the forest is suddenly extremely silent. No rustle of leaves or echoes of birds, but a loud silence accompanied by a buzzing noise; like a horde of flies marching their way towards you. 

“Hyunjin,” You call out. The name slips from your mouth with ease, as if you’ve been calling him by that name all along. In the blink of an eye, just as you exhale his name, your surroundings change; suddenly submerged in water. 

You emerge from the cold water, barely having time to register your surroundings before you’re being forced back into the water; claw-like hands scraping into your scalp, sharp and heavy against your skull. It’s hard to make your way above the water because of the forceful weight and before you know it, attempting to hold your breath is useless due to the water infiltrating your lungs. You’re flailing and thrashing around, arms lifting—hands curling into a claws, attempting to grab onto something, only to slash through the water—and legs kicking mindlessly, trying to escape what is uncertain; heart rate accelerating as panic fully sets in. This seems to go on for nearly fifteen minutes, being edged by death over and over; blacking out then awakening time and time again. Vision blocked by the salty darkness of the water, ensuring to agitate you with fright, unsure of when it’s all going to end.

Abruptly, you’re dragged upwards by your hair, back falling harshly against rock, helping you cough up the water in your throat. It feels like it takes minutes for you to learn how to breathe again, attempting to do that and calm down enough to assess your surroundings. You’re coughing so much you think you might cough up an intestine, throat burning with each assault, chest sinking and expanding and then sinking again. It takes many moments of coming back to yourself that you notice that there is no rough hand against your scalp. Alarmed, moving around frantically, backing up toward the closest stone wall. Scanning the area, there’s no human nor animal, nor creature of any nature in sight. Not even a single insect. Not even Hyunjin.

You lean over, though not too far in case history repeats itself, to peer into the water; there isn’t even a single fish, as far as you can tell, the waters quickly descending into a vast, black pit of the unknown. Overhead, the sky that was once shining brightly now dimming rather quickly, accompanied by dark, angry clouds. The winds pick up, swirling atop of the trees, emitting a drawn out whistle comparable to wind chimes; of which you can surprisingly hear over splashing and sputtering of the nearby waterfall. Large roars of thunder stomping in, but no lightning accompanies it. You begin to curl into yourself, attempting to shield yourself from whatever is out there, nature or otherwise.

You close your eyes for five simple seconds, and when you open them, Hyunjin is right next to you. He doesn’t notice you’re awake at first until you shift, catching his attention. He turns to you and you avert your eyes from him. He’s talking but it’s all inaudible, unimportant. Something about his presence in this moment is unsettling. Slightly off from the initially odd behavior he’d be exhibiting. You just nod to his words. “Found you like this about an hour ago. You shook so hard until you stopped and fell asleep.” 

Hyunjin holds out a hand for you, which you’re hesitant to grab, but the next thing you know, you’re standing slowly; legs shaking as you attempt to regain strength. You hold onto his arm for extra support, slightly struggling in your steps as he leads you, hand in hand, towards a small cave hidden behind the pour of the waterfall. It’s hardly a hike, but Hyunjin makes sure you get to the other size carefully. “The rocks are slippery. You’ve had a few accidents here before.”

A lot of Hyunjin’s words are vague. Referrals to past events involving the two of you, all of which you cannot remember. There’s a feeling that you’ve been here before, but you’re unable to prove it, or make those connections other than your gut feeling and Hyunjin’s comments. 

You’re hesitant to walk into the cave, the inside being pitch black. Hyunjin walks in before you, completely fearless, as if there is no potential danger. At the snap of a finger, there’s suddenly a fire going on within the cave. From you place you can see how the fire illuminates Hyunjin’s figure just a bit, and as you walk closer—finding a bit more comfort now that you can see, and because you know Hyunjin is there waiting for you, willing to guide you into and protect you from the unknown—you admire how the flames of the fire accentuates Hyunjin’s facial features. He was made by God, sculpted from the finest clay and molded into an individual with otherworldly beauty. Hyunjin holds a torch-like stick, fire blazing at the tip of it, used as momentary safety. “I know somewhere we can go.”

He then points into the deep darkness of the cave. You don’t want to go deeper into the cave. Right where you stand is just fine, and most importantly, it’s safe. Hyunjin reads the hesitant look that’s displayed on your face, but he urges you. “You’ve got me, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” 

And his smile, as beautiful and perfect as it is, seemed crooked, faked for just a moment. He holds out his hand, and without even thinking about it, you take his hand in yours as if you had no choice despite the unease boiling inside of you. His smile curves up again and he turns his head, now guiding you down the cold, dark cave. 

The entire time you’re walking, there’s nothing. Hyunjin doesn’t speak and neither do you. The walls on either side all appear the same, dirt colored and oddly smooth, with not even a small crater to make a difference. No matter how long you walk, nor how far, the dark pit continues into nothingness, an upsetting kind of emptiness. Despite Hyunjin being next to you, despite holding his hand, he’s like a stone wall. He makes no effort to speak, nor to even acknowledge you in the slightest despite leading you somewhere, it’s like you’re nothing but a mere bug, nothing to stress about or keep entertained. You feel nothing but loneliness at the pit of your stomach; the only things keeping you company are the thumping of your feet against the ground and the flickering of the flame Hyunjin holds. 

It’s a long time of walking before you realize that this cave is actually a tunnel. The tiny white dot of light grows bigger and bigger with every step taken. It feels like forever until you and Hyunjin reach the end of the tunnel. When you do, you’re happy to see light again. The sky now bright and blue, prohibiting any angry clouds of heavy rain. Air fresh and inviting, free of any worry and apprehension. Whatever doubts or dreadful feelings once felt before are now completely an afterthought. 

“C’mon let’s go.” Hyunjin discards the torch, dragging you with him by your hand, grip tight against you. 

He leads you over to a flower field where flowers ranging in color, size, and species reside. The field is colorful, bright and happy, like a source of glee. Inviting you over by whisper—maybe it’s a honey-filled hum—so sweet and kind. The deeper you walk into the flower field, you notice how enticing the air smells—sweet like a pastry, yet fresh like petrichor. The longer you and Hyunjin walk, hand and hand, the more at ease and loose you feel, almost drunk, mouth welling up with excess saliva. The two of you eventually reach a point to rest, laying on the grass, no words exchanged between you two. Simply just basking in the sun, deeply breathing in the fragrance of the nature that surrounds you. 

There’s a passage of time before you start to feel it; an itch that’s tempting you to scratch; a sudden burst in fire. A fire that begins at the pit of your stomach and continues to your core, flaring; spreading further throughout your body in static-like jolts. Your breaths change from relaxed and soft, quiet, to heavy and noticeable; and suddenly the atmosphere feels hotter, small beads of sweat collecting against your forehead. You shift, rubbing your thighs in effort to satiate your sudden cravings, wanting to grind your hips up in search of friction. Growing more desperate and needy by the second. 

This is when you look towards Hyunjin, rolling onto your stomach, head resting in your hands as you gaze up at his sitting form; and you actually notice him. You notice his nakedness, every single inch of him on display. He’s like a god, with his honey-like skin that glows and glistens in the sunlight. Toned and defined arm and thigh muscles that flex with nearly every movement he makes. He was meant to be admired, made to be worshiped—having men and women alike kneeling at his feet and imploring him to fuck and defile them. If only you knew how much he agrees. These thoughts almost embarrass you, yet they feel so natural. And your eyes drip lower to admire Hyunjin’s more intimate parts. Cock hanging low, thick, and you’re not too sure if he’s hard or not but he’s big. Mouth watering as you admire his dick: the natural curve to it, how there’s three thick, prominent veins that disperse along his shaft (at least from what you can see at this angle) that are pulsing, just begging for your tongue to roll over them. 

You’re pulled away from your fantasy when Hyunjin clears his throat. With an eyebrow raised and a glimmer in his eye, he gives a small smile to you, softly, “You need something from me?”

“Maybe,” You wink at him. You sit up to face him, hand making contact with his knee, fingertips trailing up and down his thigh in a teasing matter. You get a little closer to him, skin against skin, eyes fixated on his cock as your fingertips dance against his inner thigh.

That’s when Hyunjin kisses you, lips soft and plump; and when he presses them against your lips you feel like you're in heaven. At first, your lips barely touch, meeting in small pecks, sweet kisses that eventually deepen into something desperate. The kisses are open mouthed, wet and sloppy, Hyunjin’s tongue makes its way into your mouth naturally, exploring inside of you. The kiss only breaks a few times; when you place your hands flat against Hyunjin’s chest, pushing away slightly just to get air. Each time the kiss breaks, Hyunjin smiles with a small chuckle, licking his lips before leaning in again, forehead pressed to yours. 

You break the kiss once more, now focusing more on Hyunjin’s cock. Spitting onto your hand and wrapping it around his shaft, squeezing lightly. Tight fist working up and down Hyunjin’s length, biting your lip when you feel him twitch within your hand. He bites his lip, holding back a moan. Hyunjin stops you before you get too deep into it, instead choosing to take the lead. 

Hyunjin plants another kiss to your lips before kissing down your neck, trying his best to take his time to really savor you, but he soon grows impatient. Pushing you down flat against the grass. Quick, wet kisses in several places down your body before he plants one last kiss right above where he really wants to be. There, he wastes no time getting to work, tongue slithering out almost snake-like to lick against your cunt. He really takes in the first taste of his meal, wetness sitting against his tongue, practically melting in his mouth, he moans. He dives in once again, lips and tongue against your cunt, licking and sucking and moaning; fully savoring you. 

“Taste so fucking good,” He breathes once to come up for air, not that he actually needs it. Continuing to lap at your cunt, lips kissing and sucking at your clit, moaning into your heat. Hands coming to your thighs to grip, fingernails piercing, spreading you open wider for him. 

You grind against his face, hands instinctively going to his hair, fingers tangling within it and pulling with eagerness. Hyunjin groans into you at the slight sting of you pulling at his hair. Tongue not letting up against your clit, following your cunt with every movement you make, not letting you get a break from the feeling of him against you. His mouth domes around your clit, sucking you in, teeth lightly grazing against your bud, momentarily making your back arch. Mid arch, Hyunjin slips two fingers into you. Slight sting as he stretches you out, long digits buried to the knuckles inside of you upon initial thrust. 

Soon planting open mouthed kisses against your cunt, fingers working their way in and out of you at an obnoxious pace, curling naturally. Between Hyunjin’s tongue and fingers, in combination with his lips planting kisses against your cunt in between sloppy licks, it’s all too overwhelming. Cunt clenching around his fingers, pulling them in to beg for more, which Hyunjin promptly gives. Fingers fucking into you faster, his other palm pressing down directly against your pelvis. 

It’s all too much, but you don’t want it to stop. The feeling of your impending orgasm has you shaking, practically vibrating, unable to brace yourself for it. Tears pooling down the side of your face as you moan out for him. The tips of his fingers repeatedly hit the soft, gushy spot deep inside of you, biting his lip as he watches your face contort. Body stiffening within his hold, unallowed to thrash around, only able to take what he’s giving you. Though unable to completely relax into it, fighting off the feeling of eventual bliss. 

Hyunjin lets out a breathy moan at your defiance. Thumb massaging your clit, slowly but surely dragging you further off the edge. Hyunjin finally gets you to relax into his touch, into the feeling of temptation fully engulfing your soul. That’s when it takes over. Your vision blurs, almost going black, mouth agape as you let out cracked moans. Chest getting hot, tightening as you cum, releasing all stress and tension, absolutely melting into this state that makes you feel like you’re floating. Yet your body is only laid out in the grass, legs spread wide for him, as your cunt spills all over his fingers, wetness squirting all over Hyunjin’s forearm and thighs. Tongue desperately trying to lap up whatever he can as his fingers slip away from your cunt. The palm of his hand coming down against your sore cunt once, making you moan out and close your thighs, back arching, pain stinging in the best possible way that leaves you aching for more. Not fully satisfied. 

Hyunjin is kneeling over you now, a large hand around his cock. Angry red tip all pretty and glossed with precum that dares to fall onto your skin like delicious raindrops. His cock twitches in his hand, blood rushing, pulsing in the veins that decorate his shaft. It all just makes you think about finally having his cock in you. The burning of the stretch, the feel of him reaching places that haven’t been accessed before, not to mention the feeling of his warm cum filling you up, ounce by ounce. 

When Hyunjin pushes into you, you nearly lose your breath, caught in a long inhale. He’s nice enough to push into you slowly, but it’s only because he wants to savor the feeling (though, Hyunjin fully intends to use you however he wants for as long as he pleases). His cock is thick, stretches you beyond anything you’ve experienced before; though instead of being painful, your body is laced, wrapped in pleasure, and the sensation of thrill rushes through your veins. You spread your legs further apart, welcoming more of Hyunijn, hoping that he pushes into you deeper; overcome with desire and want. 

“So fucking wet,” Hyunjin pins his cock deeper into you, pulling out quickly, teasingly. “Need more of me?”

You nod frantically, bottom lip slipping away from the clutches of your teeth. When you look up at Hyunjin, his eyes are fixated on your cunt. Tongue peeking out of his mouth, swirling over his bottom lip, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and into his eyebrow. He’s concentrated, breathing so heavily that he almost begins emitting an inhumane growl, but he dials it back quickly. Instead of pushing all of his length inside of you, Hyunjin pulls out completely, tapping the head of his dick against your cunt, sliding his cock from left to right against your clit. You watch as he does this, listening to the pornographic sound of your wetness, cunt clenching around nothing, just begging to finally be filled. 

“Please…” You find yourself begging. Eyebrows strung together as you rock your hips up and down, trying to catch Hyunjin’s cock only for him to move away, preventing you from chasing your pleasure. His hand comes down harsh against your cunt in succession, serving as a warning. 

“So cockhungry, can’t you be patient?” Hyunjin continues his tease, repeated light slaps against your cunt with his dick. His cock is replaced by his hand, two fingers dragging down from your clit to your slit, thrusting them into you quickly. Two fingers are replaced by three, and three, by four. He moves quickly, tips of his fingers curled and hitting exactly where you need them. He fucks your moans out of you, reveling in the way that your cries spill out just like the wetness of your cunt, and he’s barely doing anything but fingering you. And you’re this fucked up, melting into his fingers, giving him nearly everything he wants. “Always so pathetic and slutty.”

Agreements slip from your mouth, just in hopes that he’ll give you what you need if you’re good for him. Hyunjin just laughs at you, you’re certainly the cutest plaything he’s had—he knows he’s got to take his time with you. Almost wanting to slip his thumb inside of you as well, Hyunjin decides against it, continuing to fuck you with four of his fingers, still unrelenting in his pace. You, however, are lost for words; taking every ounce of what Hyunjin is giving you. A burning sensation rising in the pit of your stomach, hips rising from the ground, but Hyunjin never stops. Even when you’re leaking all over him, thighs shaking and threatening to close around his arm, he doesn’t stop fucking his fingers into you; not until he’s sure he’s got every ounce from you. Cum dripping down his arm as he takes and takes from you, forcing you to squirt all over him and yourself once again. Sliding his fingers out of you with yet another slap against your cunt.

His hand is around his cock again—wet with your cum, smearing it all over his cock—squeezing at its base as he brings his tip to your entrance. But he teases again, merely slapping his cock against your cunt. You arch into him, grinding your hips against his cock but Hyunjin makes no notice of you and your antics. Eventually getting bored, pulling his cock away from you. 

“Kneel,” He speaks curtly, standing. However, you do not move fast enough for his liking. “Don’t make me have to do it for you.” 

He does anyway. Grabbing you by the hair, dragging you up and forcing you onto your knees, skin grinding into the grass, sure to have bruises on them. Hyunjin’s hand stays in your hair, tugging as his free hand wraps around his cock. He yanks your head to the side, proceeding to slap his cock against your cheek, precum oozing from the tip. 

“Open.” He says, and you promptly follow his instructions. “Looks like I’ve got a smart one.” 

Hyunjin spits into your mouth, globs of saliva coating your tongue. His cock closely follows, dipping the tip in and out of your mouth quickly. He shifts, though, choosing to slide his entire length into your mouth, lips closing around him; but Hyunjin doesn’t allow it. Cock sliding out of your mouth, resulting in Hyunjin slapping you on the cheek with it again; saliva and cum sticking to your cheek. “Keep your mouth open wide.”

You adjust for him, just wanting to be able to take him and satisfy his cravings. He slides his cock back into your mouth, fully, giving minimum time to adjust to neither his speed nor his size. Mouth stretched to capacity, jaws aching and burning but Hyunjin is completely relishing in all the gagging and choking you do. You’re getting dizzier the longer his dick is in your mouth, tip kissing, nearly ramming, the back of your throat due to Hyunjin’s pacing. You feel like you’re on fire but yet you’re still able to relax into it. It isn’t long before you start moaning around his cock, absentmindedly rocking your hips back and forth whenever you taste a hint of the salty sweet substance. Hyunjin then pulls out, saliva spilling all over your chin and connecting in tiny stings to his cock. Smacking your cheek with his cock another three times, erupting in a full belly laugh, smiling at the way you’re just a completed fucked out mess, barely registering a thing he’s doing or saying to you. 

“Look at that,” Hyunjin releases you from his clutches. He pushes you back by your shoulder, making you catch yourself from falling back with the palms of your hands. When you look down, you’re completely soaked, wetness dripping down your thighs and onto the ground, pooling messily onto a leaf, spilling off of its edges and soaking into the dirt beneath it. “Fucking filthy little mess you’ve made. Cunt just begging to be fucked, huh?” 

The question is rhetorical but you still nod; even going as far as to whine a little bit, hips moving seemingly without your control. Hyunjin takes pleasure in this small action, kneeling down to your level. He licks his fingers, noting that he doesn’t need to at all, and swipes them over your clit, one, two times before his ring and middle finger are sliding into your cunt. Fingertips meeting the exact place you need them each time he slides them into you. You’re clenching around his fingers now, and Hyunjin licks his lips, pulling away from you.

“Turn around.” You obey, turning on your hands and knees, swinging your ass in the air. He continues with his teasing, and at this point you’re nearly sobbing, wondering if he’ll ever actually give you what you want. Pathetic chants and whines spilling from your mouth as you push your ass against Hyunjin, unable to control yourself; thinking with your cunt instead of your brain. 

Hyunjin spits down onto you, and you can feel the glob of spit slide down from your asshole to your cunt, tickling its way down your clit. Hyunjin, though, slides the head of his cock from your clit, upwards, collecting his spit and your wetness in the process. He teases the tip at the rim of your tight hole, teasing at it. But when you push your ass towards Hyunjin, he pulls away, tsk-ing in the process. 

“Silly little play thing,” Hyunjin gives a cold, almost threatening laugh. “I think I need to teach you a lesson on patience, hm?” 

The threat has you pleading with him, repeated apologies dancing off your tongue, ultimately not acknowledged. Hyunjin loves to hear the sounds of your begs and pleads, but ultimately, the words you say do not matter to him—it all means nothing. Hyunjin marches at the beat of his own drum, and in situations like this, when he’s got a perfect piece of flesh like you beneath him, everything that he says, goes. And right now, he’s perfectly fine with teasing you over and over and over again. 

Slapping his cock against your cunt once, twice, Hyunjin slightly pushes the head of his cock against the rim of your ass. He continues applying pressure, fixated on stretching out the perfectly puckered hole. You whine at the feeling, slowly inching away from it, but Hyunjin holds your hips still. Pushing and pushing, slowly, until finally he slides the head of his cock into your tight hole. Hyunjin moans out at how your hole tightens around him, welcoming him inside. He does nothing, just stays like that, moaning and ignoring your pleas for him to do something. It’s not until you feel the side of his hand brush up against you cunt that you realize Hyunjin has got a hand around his shaft, getting himself off while the tip of his cock is in your ass and you’ve got nothing to do except for lay there and accept it, with your ass in the air and your face against dirt. 

His moans increase as he fucks his hand around his cock faster; and if it werent for his other hand holding you in place, you’d at least try to fuck back on him through the stretch of the pain. As Hyunjin exhales, letting out a deep groan of a moan, you feel the rush of warm liquid shooting into you. You moan in response as Hyunjin makes a mess of you with his cum, filling you up, trying to keep it all inside until he pulls out and it all, inevitably, leaks out of your hole, pooling around your cunt. 

Hyunjin wastes no time, cock sliding into your cunt with ease due to your wetness and his cum; but the stretch is intense, more than you initially expected. You tighten up a bit, resisting, though you want to relax. You can’t hold your arch perfectly any longer but that’s the least of your worries—the only thing on your mind being cock. Hyunjin slides another inch into you. Maybe it’s because of all the teasing, or the fact that you’ve already cum twice, but he’s not even halfway inside of you and it feels like he’s reached the depths of your soul already. His hand reaches around, fingers coming in contact with your clit in hopes of helping you ease up. 

“Created just for me,” Hyunjin breathes out, voice rough with possession. “Made just for me. Only me.” 

He continues with his ownership of you, voice dipping deeper as his words become mostly obscenities. You don’t hear it. Or perhaps you can’t hear it. Maybe you don’t want to hear the vile things he’s saying. You’re overtaken, caught up by the intense, high pitch ringing that is worming its way through your ear canal, planting and fertilizing clashing waves of static all around your brain. 

His hand wraps around your neck. It feels nothing like the soft, once heavenly hands that had been massaging all over your skin. These hands are rough, calloused and rigid palms that venture into freakishly long, boney fingers; with nails like claws that pierce into the side of your neck right behind your ear. Your eyes remain closed, fearing that if you open them that you’ll see something you shouldn’t, something that your mind would be unable to comprehend visually. A feeling of spiritual discomfort crawls up your back, causing you to arch, shivering at the same moment Hyunjin works his cock deeper into you, stretching you further; mentally and physically—of which he insists on doing, wanting to bend you to his will and break you beyond anything you’ve experienced. 

Hyunjin pulls you back to him, hips unrelenting. Teeth, sharp like razors, piercing down into the flesh of your shoulders; nearly enough for blood to start trickling down your skin, but that does not occur. His teeth, however, do leave indents in your skin; that, if he’s lucky enough, will be permanent. His lips meet your ear next, a brief kiss planted to the lobe before whispering in a rather gruff voice, unlike that of his usual. “Inferior to me. Mine to claim.” 

When he cums there’s an immense amount of it, sticky and warm. Hyunjin makes sure to be fully buried inside of you, cock seemingly swelling in size as he forces you to take all his cum inside. Hyunjin is selfish, not waiting a single moment, and barely pulling out before he begins to thrust back in. Cum coats his cock, almost daring to drip onto the ground in raindrop-like shapes. He refuses to allow that, however, fucking all of his cum back into you. His thighs, which originally felt like the silkiest, softest flesh, now coarse and dry—except for the sticky cum running down them, connecting in slightly thick, white lines against your thighs—and fuzzy; thick. “Mine to possess.”

You slowly come to realize that Hyunjin has taken a different shape completely. No longer possessing the body of a man, he has turned into some kind of beast, something inhuman. He’s grown abnormally in size and you can tell because he’s holding you up as he fucks you, toes barely scraping the dirt. 

And as filthy and as frightening as it is, the line between fear and arousal is a very thin, blurry line. It leads you to come crashing down, partially due to the overstimulation, cunt spasming around Hyunjin’s cock, sucking in all his cum. You’re elated, completely delighted, mind elsewhere as you experience your high with Hyunjin fucking you through it. Hardly registering anything other than the feeling of Hyunjin’s cock stretching you out and the warmth of his cum—a sticky mess that’s leaking out both of your holes and staining your thighs. 

When you come to, you’re laying on Hyunjin’s chest. It’s still daylight out, the sun beaming as bright as ever, nearly blinding when you open your eyes. It takes a few moments to shake away the pure, drowsy euphoria you’re feeling, completely ravished by bliss; almost hypnotized. You prop your head up to look at Hyunjin, and the moment you do, it’s like there are trumpets sounding off all around you. You have a realization—no, a revelation—that things aren’t as they seem as you peer up at the brown-haired man. As queasiness makes a home in the pit of your stomach, all within two mere seconds, the wind picks up; howling in the distance, bustling within the branches of trees. 

“This is a dream, isn’t it?” For what might be the first time, your eyes meet his.

What words can be used to describe what you saw when you looked into the eyes of that thing? Petrifying? Nauseating? Surreal? It makes you want to close your eyes, however, when you do, the images you’ve seen seem as though they’ve been permanently printed against the black of your eyelids. Perhaps you can attempt to run away—and hide, praying to God that you’re not stalked and caught—but your muscles don’t respond to the neurons being sent by your brain. Perhaps you can find a way out of this dream, but your physical body seemingly refuses to acknowledge the call to wake up; only processing the utter fright in the images it created. The only thing you can do is stare into Hyunjin’s eyes, continuing to receive visions of which you hope you’ll be able to forget. 

His irises are a deep pool of black, displaying a particular flavor not only of loneliness but utter wickedness. The longer you stare into Hyunjin’s eyes the longer you are disillusioned, fully snatched away from all delusion of this former fairytale. Vision clouded by a thick, murky fog; fully spotlighting the shocks of visions you see in his eyes. 

A beast, creature unlike anything you’ve ever seen or imagined. The face of a man only oddly elongated with empty eye sockets and horns—covered in blood that only makes a mop of its fine hair—curled up into two spikes atop his head. A smile so wide it’s like it was carved in with a razor blade and charred, blackened and blood stained fangs hanging from its mouth. Its body, with its abnormally long limbs, is completely drenched in blood, dripping in pools all around the entity. Pieces of what you can only assume is a human—or even worse, you—discarded and littered around it without much thought or care. 

Flesh. Human meat. Limbs and bones and the insides—intestines, livers and hearts and muscle—all around you as this vision becomes reality; suddenly finding yourself within one meter of this monstrosity. The pool of blood coming up to your ankles, rising steadily. Pieces and pieces of the now deceased all around you, entirely mangled and minced. The creature holds pieces of meat within its claws, sharp nails piercing into the gray flesh, bits of meat stuck between its teeth as it tears into its victim. 

It is feeding. 

The situation becomes all the more frightening when the creature raises its head towards you. Despite it being eyeless, you know that you’re making eye contact, getting lost within the empty abyss that seems to be staring into the corners of your spirit. It’s wide smile never fading as it lurches, sprinting towards you faster than the blink of an eye. 

The transition from the dream world to the waking world is surreal, almost jarring. Especially since when you awaken, you’re paralyzed, body stiff with static crawling all over your skin. The darkness of your bedroom surrounds you, both familiar and completely unknown. You attempt to move around a little, opening and closing your eyes multiple times, attempting to raise at least a finger; though falling short of progress to escape this feeling, left to stare straight up at your ceiling. 

Then there’s the boom. A loud, static-like noise; deep as if something really heavy had dropped—but you’re unsure if it’s coming from the dark corner on your right or elsewhere within your home. A thing that simultaneously occurred and did not happen. The speed at which fear rises within you is faster than the speed of light. Heart racing as the physical manifestation of dread drops to the bottom of your stomach—fear making its home in the back of your throat, tightening as your swallow, seemingly making it difficult to breathe. It consumes you, a heavy burden, too insufferable to support, unable to put up a fair fight against it. 

Don’t Look. 

Curiosity gets the best of you. You shift your eyes to the right and in the far corner of the bedroom is a space that’s significantly darker than anything else in the room; like a void. Perhaps it’s because the light from your plug-in air freshener doesn’t reach that area of the room. And perhaps you’re tired and still reeling from that strange dream, but you swear you see movement as you glance over. You want to look away, you have to look away, but curiosity sinks its claws into you. Hypnotizing and you're paralyzed with fear of what could happen. Then, the darkness in the corner grows, getting larger as if whatever it is has been expanding, standing up to greet you. 

Then it disperses. Leaving you alone, shaking and sweating in the cold, unwelcoming darkness of your room, finally able to move and process things. 

© PLANETDREAM 2023

[alexanderlightweight]

I can’t understate how happy I was to see your lumine writes tag appear in my feed! I’ve missed seeing your writing cross my dash. The way you write all of the characters (not just Magnus and Alec but Ragnor as well) never fails to tickle my brain in the best kind of way. More important than the writing though, I’m glad to hear you’re doing better. Sending nothing but well wishes and I hope things continue to be better. 💜

thank you so much <3 i'm really happy to be back writing and its really nice to know that it was missed the same way I missed it. it's an exciting feeling that makes me happy i'm interacting and sharing on Tumblr again

I love Team Immortal a lot and I don't see Catarina as often as I'd like, but barely any people let Ragnor live or have him fake his death and I think that's a downright shame because I adore all of them coexisting and deadly because of it.

also to my understanding Ragnor something/sort/kind of helped raise Magnus after the silent brothers so like, trauma bonding right there. the bond between them it's a significant one but not paternal because of Asmodeus, more a mix of a uncle/brother. and between Magnus, Catarina and Ragnor there is no actual judgment no matter what. just a kind of like '... I both can and cannot believe you did this. its fine. i'll come to terms with reality later lets figure this out to our favor first.'

so there's none of that patriarchal judgement that sometimes occurs from an older generation. ragnor quite literally thrives on Magnus living his best most chaotic life because that's what makes Magnus happy. even if its doing dangerous things like dating a shadowhunter.

so in dressed to kill ragnor faked his death in this universe btw, he showed up as a wedding present from himself to them and popped up during their honeymoon.

magnus thought he was a mirage/heatstroke and Alec called Catarina because he wasn't going to risk accidentally killing Ragnor if it really was Ragnor (its not like he could tell and selfish or not he wasn't going to make Magnus do it and Cat like, they bonded over that shes very proud of him for calling her). Magnus is now giving Ragnor the silent treatment. which means that he's constantly visiting Ragnor, portals to his side the minute he calls or fire messages. He just also glares at him quietly and refuses to talk to him and makes Alec communicate for him and he doesn't even do the whole 'alec please tell ragnor' verbally.

no he uses a spell telepathically so ragnor's REALLY getting the silent treatment.

also Magnus helped ragnor fake his death, he just also had ragnor take the memory of it and while he has since gotten the memory, he's pretty pissed that Ragnor took so long to 'come back to life' and he's ever more upset when he finds out that it's because ragnor 'lost track of time' and then when he tried to reach out, none of his contacts were reachable and ragnor was hearing ridiculous things like 'magnus got married to a shadowhunter' and then well, he may have missed the wedding but wasn't this a lovely wedding present, Magnus?

magnus does not in fact think its a lovely wedding present but at the same time it's not like he wanted to go one more day thinking Ragnor was dead so it is a great wedding present. Alec is just mildly irritated that Magnus cried half of their honeymoon because he can be happy ragnor is still alive and Magnus has a part of his family back and still be upset that Ragnor is making his husband cry on their honeymoon. if that means holding magnus' hand and using the pettiest tone possible to voice every one of Magnus' responses, well it also earned him a couple kisses so he thinks he's doing well.

fuck I got distracted again, okay I gotta go back to writing before bed <3 thanks for the ask

but yes, I really like writing their friendship because friendships are important especially when you're in a relationship. don't neglect your friends. you can be obsessed with your partner and still love your friends and friends can be family. hence why I really enjoy writing team immortal especially because they develop their own unique bonds and friendships separately with Alec. which help him experience the world differently still and learn more ways to love Magnus in turn. the same as the fics where Magnus is closer to Izzy/jace and Alec has better more mutual relationships with them

though its totally understandable if you cancel going out with your friends because the place isn't pet friendly, okay. that's just different. (I really have no idea what i'm saying rn but I know it's true, I'm Nightshade's ride or die)

thank you for the well wishes! I will continue to try and get better and be able to write more <3 and hopefully stop getting distracted

lumine

[bamber344]

The New Normal

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masterlist

ya girl is back and ya girl is sleep deprived so i won't go on for long here

bit of a shorter, more relaxing chapter to start us off after the crazy revelations of the last arc. hope y'all enjoy!

CWs: Maddie's suicidal ideation, references to her alcoholism and drug addiction, vague description of a spider

The New Normal

The sun was warm on my skin, trickling down through the canopy of softly swaying leaves above me. A breeze blew through, cool and refreshing, tousling my short hair. There were birds in the trees around me, singing songs I’d never heard before. Beyond them was the deep silence of nature, miles away from the nearest centre of human civilization. I felt… alive. I felt free. For the first time in my life, I knew the whole truth of my existence, and there was no one controlling me anymore.

Well, that wasn’t strictly true. Father- no, not Father. Andreas. He would still be looking for me, which meant I couldn’t go wherever I pleased. I still had to hide away until everything was sorted. But, in a place like this, that didn’t seem so bad. There was no mask covering my face, no helmet shielding me from other people’s sight. I could feel the sun, whenever I wanted.

I could come out here, a short walk away from the cabin we were staying at, and sit down on this old tree stump. I could just… exist, and no one had any expectations of me. It was wonderful.

In truth, I was still trying to wrap my head around everything. It had only been about twelve hours since it all happened. After Madeline and I had packed, Vivienne took us to the cabin, and we’d been trying to settle in ever since. Obviously, I didn’t get much sleep. The bed was comfortable, sure, but there was too much on my mind.

It was, in a way, clarifying, realising that the true entire sum of my life stretched only as far as I could remember. There was no mysterious blank period from before I woke up in the facility, because there was no me before I woke up in the facility. I knew every minute of my life, from the second of my birth until this very moment.

It was also uniquely horrible, knowing I only existed because a woman died and a man wanted to exploit that. I was a poor imitation of a woman who was loved and cherished both by her family and her community. She was one of those designer brands I saw in store windows, valued and cared for, and I was one of the cheap copies that people wanted because of my resemblance to the original, only to throw me away when they realised I wasn’t the same. I existed to be discarded.

It was a truly hollowing thought, but out here, in the sun and the wind and the trees, it was a little hard to believe. I was made to be discarded – that was, perhaps, an immutable fact – but it also didn’t change the fact that I existed. I was here. Regardless of my origins, I existed in the world around me, and wasn’t that enough? Wasn’t it enough that I could sit here listening to the birds? I was alive, and I was here, and there was nothing that could ever take that away from me.

But, well… just being here didn’t solve my issues. It was a nice thought that kept me grounded, sure, but I was still hopelessly directionless now. I had no idea what I’d do once this was all resolved. At least with Andreas, I had purpose. Yes, he barely allowed me any sort of freedom, and he’d only allow me to do what I wanted if it benefitted him in the long run, but at least I knew what I was supposed to be doing, because he was deciding all of that for me. Now, I had to come up with it all myself. It was… scary.

Something tickled my hand. I looked down and found a little brown spider crawling over my knuckles. 

“Hey, little guy,” I said, lifting my hand to get a better look. The spider turned to me, eight sparkling eyes examining my face.

“Must be nice,” I muttered. “I bet you probably know exactly what you’re supposed to be doing. I bet you have a mom and a dad like a normal spider. No one expects anything from you. You just spin webs and catch flies. You wanna swap places for a day? I bet I could spin a pretty great web with my shadows. Maybe you could figure out my life better than me.”

The spider didn’t respond, because it was a spider and it couldn’t speak English. I sighed, putting my hand down and letting the arachnid crawl off into the undergrowth. It was probably time to head back. Vivienne was in class today, but Madeline was still here, and I didn’t want her worrying about where I was. She had enough to deal with in regards to me already.

I made my way back to the cabin in the midmorning sun, my stomach rumbling from a lack of breakfast. We got the fridge running and stocked it up before we went to bed, so at least I knew I’d be able to find something.

Inside the cabin was quiet; Madeline’s bedroom door was closed. She must’ve still been asleep. I wasn’t gonna bother her.

Quietly, I put together a bowl of cereal and took it over to the couch in what qualified for the living room. All in all, the cabin was a pretty nice place. The main space consisted of this living room and a kitchen stuffed into the corner, with a couch, some bookshelves, and a fireplace. No TV unfortunately, but Vivienne said she could download movies and we could watch them on her ‘laptop,’ whatever that was. There were enough bedrooms shooting off of the main space to accommodate all three of us, which was nice. What wasn’t nice was the fact that the toilet was in a separate building outside, and was pretty much just a glorified hole in the ground. My morning pee had never been such a harrowing experience before.

As I ate my breakfast, my mind processed through the events of the past day. Obviously, I’d been thinking about the big things a lot, but that wasn’t all that happened. Vivienne and I kissed. She said she wanted to be with me. If it wasn’t for everything, we would be a couple, whatever that meant. The thought was still fresh and exciting, as much as it was dampened by the knowledge that I would have to wait for this all to blow over before we could pursue it any further. It was probably for the best. I didn’t know the first thing about being in a romantic relationship; would I really be able to figure it out while also trying to figure out who I was?

Another big thing to note was the re-emergence of those elusive fire powers. Last night, when Maggie first appeared, I was so worked up and frustrated that they just erupted from my hands when she surprised me. Father- Andreas. Ugh. Andreas already tried to coax them from me, but his… method didn’t really work. Maybe I’d be able to figure it out myself though, now that I had a better understanding of how the power felt to use. It wasn’t a natural instinct like my shadows, responding to my subconscious will. So far, it had only come out when I was really on edge, but maybe with some experimentation I could find another way to spark the flame, so to speak. It would be nice if I could practice them without being on the verge of losing it.

To that end, once I finished my breakfast I left the cabin once more, finding a nice little clearing not too far away. 

Now, time to figure this out. The key was getting angry, right? Well, I’d start there, and see what happened

It shouldn’t be too hard. After all, I had a lot to be angry about.

—

Madeline sipped her coffee, looking out the kitchen window into the forest beyond.

It had been a weird morning. When she first woke up, it took her a second to remember exactly where she was. Once she recalled that she was at Vivienne’s grandparents’ cabin, it took her a second to remember why she was here. Once she recalled that… all she wanted to do was go back to sleep forever.

Jordyn was a fucking clone. Of ROSIE. It was all so fucked Maddie could still barely wrap her head around it. Just thinking about it filled her with so much rage. If she ever ran into de Vygon, he was going to suffer. 

At least Jordyn knew her true identity now. That was… good. For her. It was a little hard to sum up enthusiasm in the face of what Madeline would now have to deal with any time she was near Jordyn; having a living, breathing version of Rosie still walking around, yet burdened with the knowledge that it wasn’t truly her. It was such a cruel slap in the face that it almost felt like an intentional joke by the universe.

But Madeline would press on regardless, just like always. She might start drinking more again, though, knowing herself. How else was she supposed to numb the pain from this freshly re-opened wound?

No. She needed to keep a level head right now. What if de Vygon found them and sent an attack team? Madeline needed to be ready to fight at all times. 

…Okay, maybe she could be a little high. She’d proven time and again that she could fight competently after a little green. Really, it just wouldn’t have been fair if she had to be totally sober the whole time. Jordyn and Vivienne didn’t need the chemical help like she did. Their brains worked. 

…Actually, given Jordyn’s whole deal, maybe she could do with a little chemical help. Eh, that was only for late night boredom; Madeline wasn’t gonna waste her limited supply when she practically needed it to function.

Fuck, she was such a fuck up. If Rosie could see her now, she’d be so ashamed.

Madeline put her coffee down, rubbing her eyes. She needed to get out of her own head. What would her therapist say? 

…She had no idea. It occurred to Madeline that she was quite possibly the only person in the entirety of human history to have gone through this situation. 

Fuck.

“Madeline! Help!”

Her heart jumped into her throat at the sound of Jordyn’s call. As far as Maddie knew, she’d been exploring around outside for most of the morning. Had de Vygon found them already?

She quickly downed her coffee and ran outside, fists already radiating cold air, ready for a fight. Jordyn ran up to her out of the woods, looking frantic. 

Even now, after having all morning to think about it, seeing her face still lit up a tiny glimmer of elation in Madeline’s gut, just for a split second. She was so screwed. 

“What’s wrong? Is it de Vygon?” Maddie asked.

Jordyn shook her head. “No, I accidentally set a tree on fire and I can’t put it out!”

Madeline blinked. “What? How?!”

Jordyn frantically jogged on the spot. “I’ll explain later, just come on!”

She turned and ran back off into the forest. Madeline sighed and followed her.

Sure enough, when they came into a clearing, one of the trees near the edge was burning. A bunch of grass on the ground was singed black as well. What the hell was she doing out here?

Madeline waved a hand and ice crept up the tree, smothering the fire and putting it out. The cold was probably equally as unhealthy for the tree itself, but at least ice wouldn’t spread and burn down the forest.

“So,” Maddie said, turning to Jordyn with her hands on her hips. “You wanna tell me how that happened?”

Jordyn blinked, seemingly coming down from the adrenaline of the small panic. “Uhh, right. Um… Give me a second.”

She lifted her hand, palm facing upwards towards the sky, furrowing her brows in intense focus. The sleeves of her pyjama shirt (definitely borrowed from Viv, along with all of her clothes it seemed) were rolled up to her elbows, revealing muscled forearms. Jordyn’s shoulders began rising and falling as her breaths grew deeper and heavier. Tears welled up in her eyes.

All of a sudden, fire exploded from Jordyn’s skin, sparking up almost uncontrollably for a second before Jordyn exhaled and the output de-intensified. It flickered in her dark eyes. It was probably the only difference between her and Rosie, aside from Jordyn’s numerous scars; her eyes were so dark that they were pretty much entirely black, but Rosie’s always had a hint of orange to their brown depths. It was said that certain powers could influence eye colour in development – something about them being the windows to the soul, and the soul being where powers resided – so that was probably it. Maddie’s own eyes were a fittingly icy blue.

It wasn’t a fluke, then, back during the monster attack. Jordyn really did have Rosie’s fire power. Somehow. 

And Maddie could see Jordyn’s problem immediately.

“You’re making yourself angry to summon it, aren’t you?”

The fire went out and Jordyn dropped her hand, gingerly rubbing it. “Still haven’t gotten used to that… Um, yeah. I am. That’s what’s worked so far, so…”

Madeline nodded. “All you’ll ever manage doing that is blowing stuff up. If that is Rosie’s power that you have, your main focus needs to be control. Rosie’s only power was raising the temperature and creating fire, not controlling it. Once it caught on something, it was totally out of her hands. It’s the same with my ice powers. It was why we worked so well together as a superhero team. I could put out her fires, and she could melt my ice. We balanced out each others’ faults.”

“But, the only way I know how to summon it is if I get angry, and it’s hard to control myself like that.”

Maddie smiled. “There are other ways to get a feel for it. You didn’t have control over your shadows at first either, did you?”

Jordyn shook her head. “No, they just reacted to my emotions.”

“It was the same for me. I learned how to control it by taking cold baths to give myself an easy starting point, and practicing freezing the water without using my emotions to force it. Rosie used to use a fuel source, like a twig or a leaf, so that she could see the temperature increase a lot sooner than pushing herself until the air around her hands ignited. It took a lot of practice to get to the point she was at when she…um, when she died.” Generally, she’d gotten a lot less squeamish about mentioning Rosie’s death over the years since it happened, but it was weird talking about it to someone who looked exactly like her. “So, give that a try sometime, if you’re serious about mastering it.”

Jordyn smiled, and Madeline’s heart ached at the sight. She was honestly a little grateful for the scar stretching across her face. If not for that obvious and glaring difference – always reminding her that Jordyn and Rosie weren’t one and the same – this mission she’d undertaken might’ve proven too much for her.

“Thanks, Madeline!”

Despite it all, Jordyn’s cheeriness was infectious, and Madeline couldn’t help but smile back. “No problem. And, uh… you can call me Maddie, if you want. Everyone else does.”

“Maddie,” Jordyn repeated, as if trying it out. She nodded. “Okay!”

Madeline turned, waving. “See you back at the house. Don’t stay out too long.”

“Sure!”

It was going to be hard, there was no doubt about that. But, Madeline could see herself getting used to it. Jordyn really wasn’t that bad to be around, in spite of everything, and Maddie was nothing if not adaptable. After all, how many times had her life turned upside down at this point? She was beginning to lose count.

—

Madeline strummed at her acoustic, sitting on the porch and looking out over the dirt road leading away from the property into the woods. It was late afternoon and Jordyn was currently running laps around the cabin, despite the fact that it was no longer required of her. Maddie couldn’t fault her for wanting to keep up an exercise schedule, but with everything going on, she would’ve expected her to take a break, at least for a day. Maybe it helped keep her mind off of things. 

She played through a few of the songs she had memorized, trying to avoid anything that was too emotionally charged or held too many memories. Some Beatles here, some Green Day there, and time was passing along sure enough. Viv would be back soon with pizza, or so she claimed to Jordyn before she left in the morning. She was apparently also picking up some burner phones so they could communicate with Ashley should they need to, or each other in the event one of them was back in the city. The service was spotty out here, but they weren’t completely cut off.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?”

Maddie looked up to see Jordyn coming up the steps of the porch. She put her hand over the strings, cutting off the leftover reverberation from what she just finished playing.

“Uh, Rosie’s dad taught me the basics. I learned the rest myself.”

“Huh,” Jordyn replied, leaning on one of the wooden posts holding up the veranda. “Did… Rosalyn know as well?”

Madeline shook her head. “Nah, she was more of a singer. I would play the songs, and she would sing along to them. We’d do harmonies and stuff, though I was never as good as her. It was fun.”

It was back when they were fifteen, a few months after Rosie’s family had taken Madeline in, when they were still in that uncertain phase between friendship and romance where neither of them knew how to define their relationship. She was hanging out in Rosie’s room, trying to get her hands around a song she’d been practising. She started up a new run-through, and this time, despite the fact that she ostensibly wasn’t paying attention, Rosie started singing the words. Her voice was so beautiful, it took Madeline’s breath away. She still remembered the feeling of the music just clicking between them. Madeline finally played through the song without making a single mistake, and by the time it was over, she knew for certain that she was in love.

They’d known each other since they were kids, meeting in their first year of primary school. In total, it was fifteen years of friendship before the end. Six years of love. Three years of marriage. On the ground, living through it, it felt like a lifetime. Looking back, it felt like no time at all. In ten years, Maddie will have spent more time without her than she got with her. 

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to live that long.

No. She forcefully took hold of her thoughts, stopping the oncoming suicidal spiral in its tracks. It would get better. It would get easier. This little backslide wasn’t the end. Healing wasn’t linear. Life was still worth living even without Rosie in it. 

The longer she lived, the more stories she’d have to tell Rosie once they finally reunited. And they would reunite. Maddie had to believe that. Maybe she wasn’t ever meant to love again, but that was okay. There was more to life than just romance. Rosie wasn’t the only person she cared about, and Rosie wasn’t the only person who cared about her.

“Are you alright?” Jordyn asked, now sitting next to Madeline on the cushioned seat. Right there was a piece of Rosie that was still alive. A piece that needed to be nurtured and protected. It didn’t matter that Jordyn wasn’t really Rosie, because she was a friend that cared. And… Madeline found herself caring right back. 

Madeline sniffed, wiping away the tears that had fallen while she was lost in her own head. “I’m sorry.”

Jordyn cocked her head like a confused puppy. “What for?”

Maddie sighed. “I was… such a dick to you before. Back when you joined the Union. And even before that. You didn’t deserve any of it. I think it was just… you reminding me of Rosie too much. It hurt, so I… lashed out.”

“I don’t know if I would call it being a dick,” Jordyn said. “I could tell that you didn’t like me much, but you were never mean to me about it. You just avoided me.”

Maddie shrugged. “Yeah well, either way, I’m sorry.”

Jordyn smiled. “I forgive you.”

Madeline smiled back. “Thanks.”

A small period of silence passed between them, broken only by the rustling of leaves in the trees and the chirping of birds. 

“How are you… doing, with it all?” Madeline asked.

Jordyn let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know. It’s like… ever since I woke up in the facility… for my whole life, I guess, I’d been wondering what I was like in the past. Learning that there never was any past before I woke up is… weird. Knowing that I’m just a… copy of someone else, created just because Andreas… I don’t even know. I don’t know why he created me or Maggie or the other five that came before me. He told me he was my dad. I believed him. I guess, in a way, he is, but… I don’t know. Honestly, I’ve just been mostly trying not to think about it.”

Madeline nodded. “That’s fair. It must be a lot.”

“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. Before, I was just following Andreas’ commands because that was who I was supposed to be. Jordyn de Vygon was a superhero who was infiltrating the Union for some reason that Father never really told me. Now, I’m just… Jordyn. The clone. I don’t even know if I want to be a hero anymore. I don’t know if I ever did.”

Maddie reached over, putting a hand on Jordyn’s shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with not knowing your path. I’ve had twenty six, almost twenty seven years to figure out what the hell I’m meant to be doing, and I still don’t know. You’ve barely had a day. Just give it time and stay open-minded.”

She smiled softly. “Thanks, Maddie.”

The door of the cabin opened, and Vivienne popped her head out. “Oh, there you guys are. I got pizza!”

Jordyn immediately hopped up and jogged inside, always eager for food. Madeline watched her go. She reckoned she would stay outside for a little longer.

Her guitar needed tuning, anyway.

—

The rest of the night passed peacefully. The three of us all enjoyed some pizza and I even helped set up the fireplace with my newfound powers. It was nice, just sitting around and chatting with no expectations hovering over any of us. There was still… tension between Vivienne and I, but hopefully it would pass in time. It was mostly just those little side-eye glances where our gazes kept meeting, and remembering the taste of her lips every time she smiled. Manageable, but still an ever-present reminder of the tiny thing that happened between us.

It reminded me of the early days after I first slept with Brianna; those tingly feelings every time I thought about it. I hoped she would get to come and spend time with us soon. After spending so long pretty much living with her, it felt odd to go a day without seeing her.

Eventually, the night wound down, and we all retreated off to our separate bedrooms. As I laid there, listening to the deep silence of the forest, I reflected on the first day of my new life as a free woman. 

Things were still fresh and raw, and it would take time for all of us to process these new revelations properly, but I got the feeling that things were gonna turn out alright. Maybe it was just the excitement of freedom overtaking the daunting reality of the situation, but it was what I believed. If Madeline of all people could treat me with such kindness after I basically stole her wife’s body, maybe I really would be able to find my place in this world, despite Andreas’ best efforts.

In a way, it was a blessing to realise I was a clone. Now that I was free of Andreas’ control, I had no ties to anything. No family, no true identity. 

I could be whoever I wanted to be, and I had all the time in the world to figure it out.

taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @thataquaticwhumper

@iamheretohurt @anoyedartist @dontyoubleedoutonme @seastarblue @lettherebepain

@bacillusinfection @sorcererfen

There is nothing more relaxing to me than the pure quiet of the countryside. If you've lived in a city your whole life, you get used to the background level of noise, but then you go out there where there's no towns for miles and miles and it's just. So quiet. Sure there are birds and animals and maybe a stream and the rustle of leaves. But underneath that is just. Peace. and it's lovely.

Thanks for reading! Hope you all enjoyed. let me know what you thought! Next time we're gonna be hanging out with Ashley back in Tombguard, and seeing how the case against de Vygon progresses.

See you then!

[bleucaesura]

STOLITZØ - SIXTY TWO

The two lay in bed, Stolas cozied up to Blitzø’s side and his head on his chest. Blitzø had his arms wrapped around Stolas, resting his cheek on the top of his head.

They’d both gotten extremely light-headed earlier and begrudgingly decided to “save more for later”. They both hated that their bodies were betraying them, but Stolas had also pointed out that they probably had more to talk about before rushing back into bed with each other again.

Blitzø had grumbled but agreed. Being emotionally communicative sucked sometimes.

Stolas snuggled up under Blitzø’s chin and nuzzled his neck.

“F*ck!” Blitzø palmed Stolas’s face and tried to push him away. “That tickles dammit!”

Stolas chuckled and kissed Blitzø’s palm, making him jerk his hand back and blush.

Stolas smiled up at him.

“Think you’re funny, huh?” Blitzø grinned mischievously and tackled Stolas, attacking him with tickles.

“Blitzø!” Stolas shrieked. He flailed and squawked and tried to curl in a ball to protect himself. “Blitzy! Please!”

Stolas cried from laughter.

“You won’t do it again?” Blitzø continued to tickle him.

“I won’t!” Stolas gasped through his laughter.

“Prooooomise?”

“I promise!”

“Good.” Blitzø stopped and pecked Stolas on the end of the beak with a quick kiss. He smirked down at him, feeling very smug.

Stolas gasped through his panicked laughter and tried to catch his breath.

Blitzø sat back and watched Stolas gather himself. His smile slowly faded.

“Stolas?” Blitzø looked down at his hands.

“Hm?” Stolas smiled up at him.

“Why would you do this to yourself?” Blitzø peeked at him. “Be honest.”

Stolas’s face dropped. He averted his gaze.

Blitzø bristled.

Dammit…

“Asmodeus says you’ve been draining yourself.” Blitzø’s voice was cold. “Don’t you DARE say you’ve been doing it because you love me… Because, I’ll never forgive you…”

Stolas froze. He finally turned and met Blitzø’s eyes. There was so much pain there. He sat up, reached out and took Blitzø’s hands in his.

“I’m sorry. I forgot to do my rituals because I dropped everything to find you when you disappeared. Because I love you. The rituals were the last thing on my mind.”

“Ok… Fine… I can get that I suppose…” Blitzø averted his gaze. “But… The rest?”

Stolas hung his head in shame.

“I couldn’t save you with my power. I was no use to you. I needed to be useful. Somehow. And you weren’t waking up. I was afraid you’d never wake up. I didn’t want to be left behind. I couldn’t be.”

His eyes stung with tears.

“I can’t imagine a world without you in it, Blitzø. I was ready to walk away if that’s what you wanted, but I would have known you were alive and happy. But to exist when you don’t? I… I couldn’t…”

Stolas sniffled.

Blitzø grabbed his face.

“Don’t you EVER f*cking do anything like this again! Do you hear me?”

Stolas stared wide-eyed back at him.

“Don’t you EVER f*cking talk about not existing like it’s no big deal!” Blitzø's voice shook. “It’s a HUGE deal!”

Stolas reached up and held Blitzø’s face affectionately. He smiled meekly.

“It’s a huge f*cking deal…” Blitzø sniffled, fighting back tears.

Stolas kissed Blitzø tenderly, then touched his forehead to his.

“Ok.”

Blitzø pulled him in for another quick kiss.

“…Ok.”

Blitzø rested his head on Stolas’s chest. He wrapped his arms around him and soon after, they’d laid down and fallen asleep in each other’s arms.

*****

[kittilumpo]

prompt for my Dani Suddenly Gets A New Power When Her Voice Changes au:

dani becomes a member of the teen titans via being a teen and being titanous - she beats up bad guys, they beat up bad guys, literally the only difference is that dani never stays in one place! she is constantly traveling; to explore the world, yes, but mostly to Go Where She Wants To Go And Be Where She Wants To Be

a fight here and a run-in there and the various branches of the teen titans eventually communicate well enough (emphasis on eventually) between their bases to invite her to OFFICIALLY become a RECOGNISED member of the teen titans! she gets a badge and a comm and everything!

pick your favorite group of super teens, even including Young Justice and other highly specific eras/groups like them, because when i said "emphasis on eventually" i meant emphasis on eventually. literally in canon those fuckers are always dropping out if touch with each other, they are NOT communicating ANYTHING in a timely manner.

dani DOES age as time passes her, because the original power this au is based off of is a puberty-activated voice-changing joke and i wanna keep that for her, but like the infinite realms has time-travel portals all the time soooo...... if she's in her early teens when starfire crashlands to earth and translator-kisses dick!robin and then is STILL in her early teens when pit-rage!jason beats the shit out of tim!robin, then let They whom haves't used flimsy plot holes to make All Their Faves Meet throweth the first stone

as per my previous post, dani gets into Her First Tickle Fight with her new friends! and it goes! horribly! W R O N G ! :D

this is not a light-hearted happy "ha ha oops" au this is a genuine "i just almost killed all of my friends in almost the most horribly painful way i've ever seen AND IT'S ALL MY F A U L T-" ANGSTFEST

because the phandom does so love our angst~

in the middle of Her First Tickle Fight dani either destabilizes because of how tickling works (its actually scary, google it!) OR if u prefer stablized!dani then she just gets overewhelmed by the tickling (seriously google it) and her body Just Reacts

her voice cracks and breaks into

a million

tiny

haunting

e c h o e s

and all of those new friends suddenly become victims of her newly-awakened Haunting Laughter, a vocal attack that doesn't do physical damage like danny's Ghostly Wail but wow that would be so much easier to fix!!!!

depending on which magic system(s) you wanna work with, dani either does "psychic" damage or just straight-up attacks their ACTUAL LITERAL SOULS. since all of the other teen heroes are alive beings made of unchanging flesh, and none of them have a core to keep their souls in one piece (except possibly jason*, depends on u) like the ghosts in the infinite realms whom are made of like 95% ectoplasm and 35% pure spite do, the teens all get hit HARD

literally months later dani's titans have mostly stabilized enough that its safe to rouse them out of the magically induced comas that the justice league dark and/or the far frozen yetis were forced to put them in to keep them alive

this prompt ends with dani's titans - being mostly amnesiac/repressed-memories about the whole thing and so equally mostly willing to forgive and forget, because it was literally an accident from a new power and they've all been there (which is why tickling is officially BANNED now, forever) - being either informed semi-immediately by the adults OR they return to base and find out for themselves later that dani has turned in her badge and communicator and all of her other "earthly possessions" and has left this universe entirely to prevent herself from harming any of them ever again

(*... and also MAYBE raven isn't in danger from it? like its still gonna hurt her and do some damage, its still an attack that she takes head-on - made by DANI, a genetic copy of danny "i can kill god because the plot says i might need that power some day" fenton - because raven is alive and has no ghost core, but i realized that raven is also THE most likely character of the whole DC universe to not only have but also constantly maintain various types of protection around her own soul. cuz hellmouth.)

i hope you have some fun with this!

[angelatmidnight1]

Behind The Badge (Squealing Santa 2024)

Hi @scribblesandchai! I'm your Squealing Santa this year. I love the Scream series, particularly the 1996 movie, and I decided to try my hand at writing for Dewey Riley and Gale Weathers with the tickle fight prompt. I hope you like it and I hope you have a wonderful new year!

Fandom: Scream (1996)

Summary: After the Woodsboro murders, it’s hard to return to a sense of normalcy. Dating can become a distant memory when you serve as a first responder. In some ways, Dewey succeeded in keeping his community safe. But in other ways, Dewey believes he failed, since he couldn’t protect Tatum. Dewey cannot, will not, let that happen to his new girlfriend, Gale Weathers. He’s ever vigilant even when he’s off duty. Gale wants to bond with the man behind the uniform. It almost seems impossible…until she discovers that he’s ticklish. 

Word Count: 2,152.

Possible Warnings: Spoilers for the movie, and character death indirectly mentioned.

The small-town diner was alive with the clinking of coffee mugs and muffled laughter. Dewey Riley sat across from Gale Weathers, as stiff as his badge. Most people would jump at the chance to dine with the renowned reporter. But his mind was elsewhere. He sat over his lukewarm coffee with a tight jaw. 

And Gale, ever the observer, took in every detail of his posture. 

Dewey looked good in anything he wore. Then again, she wasn’t expecting him to wear his uniform on their date.  Somewhere nearby, a waiter dropped a plate, and the crash sounded throughout the diner. Both of them flinched. But, from the way his hand dropped to his waist, Dewey looked ready to draw his weapon. The Ghostface attacks were behind them, but not the aftermath. Gale cleared her throat.

“Dewey,” she said softly, “You’re safe. It was just a plate.”

He blinked a couple of times, eyes shifting to her. Then, he quickly looked away, taking a slow breath and putting his hand back on the table. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Old habits die hard.”

Gale gave an understanding nod. “I get it,” she said, her tone softening. “I’m sorry, D. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, no. It’s alright,” Dewey shook his head. He looked out at the people eating and chatting in the diner. “I haven’t been here since I was in high school.” 

Gale followed his gaze. Then, she gave him a small, hopeful smile. “Must feel like yesterday, huh?”

Dewey snorted quietly. “Something like that. Back then, this place was where we all came to unwind after a long week of school. Tatum, Randy, Stu- hell, even Billy. It was…simpler.”

A comfortable silence settled over them. Then, Gale said, “I know it’s not the same, but I’m glad this place’s still here. I’m glad you’re still here.”

For the first time tonight, Dewey smiled. “Thanks, Gale.”

Gale smiled too. She didn’t think she’d be able to get him to smile at all tonight. Wanting to savor the moment, she continued, “I bet you were all business back then too, huh? Let me guess. Hall monitor? Safety patrol?”

Dewey snickered. “Not exactly.”

Encouraged, Gale stood and rounded the table, cozying up beside him. “Oh no? Maybe you were the one causing the trouble. Starting fights, stealing lunch money. It’d make sense that you’d turn over a new leaf.”

He laughed at that. He folded his hands on the table, and his shoulders shook from laughing. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Well, if I’ve got it all wrong, why not set the story straight? Tell me something about the real you.” Gale giggled. She leaned up against his arm and prodded at his torso with a manicured hand. “And don’t hold out on me.”

Dewey jolted from the pokes and leaned away from her. Thankfully, in the busy diner, no one seemed to notice. “H-Hey! Gale!”

Gale rose a brow. Her eyes sparkled with sudden mischief.  “Oooh. I can’t say I’ve ever met a ticklish deputy.” 

“I doubt you walk up to a deputy and poke them,” he scoffed without malice. “Besides, I’m not ticklish. That was just a reflex.”

“Bull,” she snorted. “I just tickled you and you flinched. If that doesn’t spell ticklish, then what does?”

“It doesn’t spell anything.” He swiveled when Gale tried to poke him again, this time catching her hand. “Gale! Quit it!”

Gale grinned. “Interesting. Well, Deputy ‘Not-Ticklish’, I hope you don’t mind if I conduct a little investigation.”

“I thought we weren’t working tonight.” As Gale leaned on him, he tried to shield his torso with his arm, but was trapped between her and the wall. 

“Oh, this isn’t work,” she snickered. “This is personal research.”

Before she could tease him further, he lifted her hand to his lips. The gesture was soft, almost hesitant, his warm breath brushing her skin as he pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

For a moment, Gale froze, her retort caught somewhere between her mind and her lips. Her grin faltered—not because she didn’t like it, but because she hadn’t expected it.

Dewey lingered just long enough to look up at her, his boyish charm shining in the faintest smile. He was hoping—praying, really—that it would throw her off her game.

But Gale recovered quickly. Her grin came back, wider this time. “What was that?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“Uh…” Dewey stammered as her free hand darted toward his ribs.

“Nice try, Deputy,” Gale teased, her fingers finding their mark. Dewey jolted again and let out a shout of laughter that now caught some people’s attention. The deputy’s face flushed red and he waved an apologetic hand. 

“S-Sohohrry,” he coughed out chuckles as he batted at her hands. He successfully caught them again and leaned into her to whisper. “If you don’t stop,” he began in a mock serious voice, “you’re gonna regret it.” 

“What are you gonna do?” She laughed. “Arrest me?”

“No, but I’ll have no choice to defend myself,” Dewey warned, smirking. 

She arched a brow, acknowledging the unspoken challenge. She rose from the table and mirrored his smirk with her own. “I’d like to see you try.”

Sure enough, the rest of their evening was filled with laughter. After they left the diner, they returned to Dewey’s home. It started out as a lighthearted argument about who’d get the last bite of dessert. The bickering took a turn when Gale seized Dewey’s sides and kneaded into them. 

“GAhaha! Gahahahle!” Dewey doubled over, clutching the brownie to his chest. He half heartedly batted at her hands with his free hand. “STohohahaha! It’s mihihihihne!”

“It’s half a brownie,” she snorted. “Besides, whatever happened to ladies first?” She dug her thumbs into his tummy before he could get a good grip on her hands, and he shrieked. “Hand it over, D.”

Dewey refused. Instead, he let the container tumble to the floor and whirled around, wriggling his fingers into her stomach in turn. Gale yelped and dissolved into giggles. She abandoned her tickle attack to wrestle with his hands. 

“Fahaha! AH! N-Nohoho, dohon’t you—” Gale’s squealing protests intermingled with her loud giggling as she battled with the deputy. He dropped his hands to her hips and squeezed. She cursed and laughed, and Dewey carefully led down on the floor to continue his attack. 

Dewey kneeled over her, skittering his fingers across her waist before returning to her hips. “Told you I’d get you back,” he grinned. He worked his thumbs in circular motions against her hip bones. “What’s wrong? You were so confident a minute ago.”

Gale thrashed beneath him, laughter spilling uncontrollably from her lips. “D-Dehehewey! Y-You—ohmygahAH!—you CHEAT!” she shrieked, trying to twist away.

“Cheat?” Dewey echoed with a laugh of his own. You’re the one who started this whole thing. I’m just finishing it.”

 Feeling a surge of confidence, Dewey moved away from her hips and jumped to her sides. The woman squealed and twisted, laughing loudly. She didn’t make it easy for him to keep her down; she kicked, bucked, and chased after his hands with her own. His hands scampered up to her armpits and she slammed her arms down.

“THEHE HEHELL YOUHU ARE!” Gale threw her head back and cackled. She kicked even more and, not wanting to take a leg to the groin, Dewey sat on top of them, careful not to put his full weight on her. He scribbled into her armpits with more purpose, fingertips scritching into the hollows.

“I think I am.” Dewey chuckled along with her and continued tickling her armpits. Now, not worried about getting kicked, he was able to tickle her with ease. He dropped one of his hands back to her side and squeezed a few times, returning to her armpit immediately after. He wore this sweet, yet mischievous smirk. He hadn’t had a fun moment like this in what felt like forever. For a moment, he didn’t have to look over his shoulder or go to sleep worrying about his loved ones. All he needed to focus on was winning the tickle war that Gale started.

And Gale wasn’t finished yet. 

Despite her loud cackling, and despite being pinned down, she was still determined to win. In one more last ditch effort, she twisted her body sharply. Dewey, not expecting the sudden shift, had to catch himself with his hands so he didn’t fall on top of her. 

“Whoa! Sh﹘no! Gale! NAhaha!”

Before he could recover, she latched her fingers onto his ribcage. Still winded, she gently pinched over the bones and ran her nails in between the spaces. Dewey yelled and rolled onto his back, trying to fend off her hands while laughing frantically. 

“NOHOhohoho! W-Wahahahait!” Dewey arched his back and howled as she continued clawing at his ribs. She moved her hands quickly, too quick for him to get a good grip on them, and he bucked more whenever her hands ventured too close to his stomach. “GAHAHALE!”

“Oh no, you’re not backing out now,” Gale asserted, dropping her hands to squeeze over his hip bones. She giggled as he snorted and shook his head. She swirled her thumbs against the bones and he thrashed some more. “Thought you weren’t ticklish, D.”

“I’m nahahahahahahat!” Dewey lied and turned onto his side, batting at her hands. Gale snickered and suddenly jumped to his stomach. 

“Liar.” Gale spidered her nails up and down his tummy, laughing at his high pitched scream. He flopped back onto his back, and she scooted up to pin his arms down with her knees. 

“GAHAHAHA! Gahahahle, nohohohoho!” With his arms pinned, his laughter took on a more desperate note, and he thrashed underneath her. Gale’s teasing grin softened; his laughter, albeit loud, was rich with snorts and squeals. It was endearing to hear and, given what he had to go through during the Ghostface attacks, it was most likely a new rarity for him. She doubled down on her efforts, nails creeping underneath his shirt to tickle over bare skin. Dewey howled. “STOHOHOHOHOP!”

“You’re so ticklish, Dewey,” Gale cooed, smirking down at him. “How could you lie about that?” She pressed her thumbs into the sides of his tummy and swirled them repeatedly. Dewey threw his head back, laughing even harder. 

“I’M SOHOHOHOHRRY!” Dewey wailed, trying to squirm away, but his attempts were futile. Gale kept his arms pinned down to the floor, and the laughter weakened him. “Gale, please-”

Gale slowed her attack and pretended to think. Her fingertips stroked along his belly and circled his belly button, keeping him in a consistent giggle fit. “Hmm, I don’t know,” she hummed. “Between you lying to me and keeping the brownie from me, I think I’m owed a little justice here.”

“I already s-said I’m sorry,” he stammered, pausing in between words to giggle. Gale leaned down to peck his lips, and his already reddened face turned redder. 

“I hear you,” she pecked his lips again, and she felt him momentarily relax under her. “And yet, justice still needs to be served.”

Dewey’s eyes widened and before he could fully process it, Gale’s nails were skittering against his tummy again. He yelped and dissolved into another wave of frantic giggles. 

“Youhuhu can tahahake the brownie!” Dewey squealed and squirmed side to side. He inadvertently snorted as she skittered her nails around and under his belly button. “TAHAHahahake it!”

Oh, I will,” Gale said with a triumphant grin, “Right after you’ve served your sentence, deputy~.”

From there, Dewey’s laughter picked up to cackles and she continued tickling his stomach. She pinched, prodded, and scribbled over his skin until his laughter sounded more like wheezes and snorts. She eased off of him after a few minutes and leaned over to pick up the brownie container. 

Dewey breathed heavily, covering his red face with his hands. He was still giggling quietly and the blush stretched all the way to his ears. “You are evil, Gale.”

“No, not evil. Thorough.” She grinned and plopped back down on his legs. She opened the brownie container and broke the treat in half. “Here.”

Dewey propped himself up on his elbows and took the brownie half. They both ate their piece in comfortable silence though, for some reason, he was still smiling. Gale regarded him curiously, chuckling.

“What?” She asked, licking the small bit of chocolate off of her fingers. He jumped a bit, as if caught, and shook his head. 

“Nothing. Just been a while since I laughed like that.” He admitted, his smile turning softer, even shyer. Gale smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. 

“You’re welcome,” she giggled. “Laughing looks good on you.”

Dewey finished his brownie and wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her close. His shy smile turned cheekier as he met her eyes. “I think it looks better on you.”

[elkian]

Ok ok ok ok OKAY. I know that certain things need to be changed for pacing and timing and all for movies. But god did they do the hobbits dirty?? I finished Episode 2 on my way home (in fact sat in my car and just listened for about ten minutes after until it ended) and the bit where Merry and Pippin and Sam conspire to make sure Frodo doesn't go off on his own? I fucking cried! I teared up! And then Strider is warning him and Farmer Maggot gave them dinner and a ride and a snack and the innkeeper is a bumbler yeah but he was still nice and, god, Gaffer Gamgee, like.

Frodo is loved. Frodo is so loved, you guys. By his community, his family and friends, people who barely know him and total strangers. Frodo is loved by Gandalf and Gandalf gave him a name to travel under (haha), and by that name Strider knows him and is looking out for him far before anyone trusts or even believes that he does, and he's proud of them for trying to stay safe (and also like. Frustrated. But that frustration comes from a place of deep concern, god).

(Also, the fact that if Frodo hadn't been using that name, well, things might still have gone well enough for him, but because he trusted Gandalf enough to use it, the people Gandalf are sending to help him can find him.)

(Also Gandalf says, "don't tell people your government name if you can avoid it when doing dangerous shit, kids!")

And there's a confluence of events here - the places the Nazgul went, the responses he got? Farmer Maggot hasn't seen Frodo in thirty years, had only ever had antagonistic interactions with him, and some fucker rolls up to his door promising gold and then levying threats and his response is a hearty "fuck off". Gaffer Gamgee, too! And there is some xenophobia mixed into these (and the innkeeper's) reactions, you can see it pretty clearly, but the fact of the matter is that when someone threatened harm these guys closed ranks.

I started LOTR because I'd finished the Hobbit recently, but also because I've seen people talk about it in ways that map to current events, and I wanted to see for myself.

Today I saw a headline of how out of around 2,000 attempted "detainments", ICE failed over 1,960 of them. Because people closed ranks. Perhaps not accidentally, this clip from Wong Foo with people interfering with the arrest and harassment of the drag queens was also on my dash today.

One thing really fascinating to me in JRRT's writing is, while I kind of thought it was going to be Serious Business All The Time (incorrect), the man understood people. He gets people in a way I've seen very rarely matched and it's beautiful.

Here Jirt is saying, yes there are horrors in the world, and people who want to hurt you. And there are also people who want to help you, who won't let you run into danger alone, who will stonewall against bribes and threats alike, even if they don't necessarily know you.

God. I'm fucking emotional.

Just thinking of the timeline, too - if either of the hobbits had sold Frodo out or even given more helpful directions, he very well may have been caught before ever getting out of the Shire! A couple of old hobbits said "come back with a warrant" and Frodo is alive because of it!

Also, now that I've worked through those emotions a bit, I am absolutely tickled that my assessment of Radagast in the previous post paid off, like, instantly. Speaking of things that were a crying shame to cut - you replaced him with a moth? Like, I love moths, but Radagast was told by a friend to keep his eyes peeled for fash shit and send word if anything happened, and he did so, and that is the reason Gandalf was able to escape!

A recurring theme of this and the Hobbit are that people don't have to do One Big Thing to contribute. Yes, it helps for those with the strength to do so to strike down evil wherever it rears its head, but there's more to the story than those moments.

It's so fascinating that Frodo is the main character, here. Like, the Hobbit was definitely a different tale, but Gandalf and Aragorn have major protagonist energy, right? Gandalf is a demigod thing I'm pretty sure? But no, our focus is this Just Some Guy who's maybe like 24 in human years and inherited the quest from his guardian, and his immediate response was "well, shit, I can't let the fuckers come after me while I'm here, so I need to leave" and Gandalf admires him for it. Little people doing big things with small actions is not even subtext.

I was aware that the series wasn't intended to be a bombastic war story, but I don't think I realized how touching it was going to be.

(There's also the bit with Theodin but I know stuff was changed in the movies so I'm gonna decline to comment but, good grief.)

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Agitation 3.12 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

“Falsified records,” Tattletale grinned.

I do love just how deep the hypocrisy of "New Wave Means Accountability" actually goes.

“We know this story already,” Glory Girl replied, her tone just a touch testy. Whatever Tattletale was doing, I sensed it was giving us more control over the situation.  I commented, “This is new to me.  I’m sort of intrigued.”

Character: "I know all this already"

Protagonist: "Well, I don't, and the readers need to know, so why not keep going?"

“It’s not the man that would bother her so much.  It’s the knowing.  Every hour of every day after hearing me say his name, she would wonder.  She’s terrified she’ll start second guessing every part of herself, wondering if she inherited it from him, or if she was that way out of an unconscious desire to not be him.  Knowing as much as she does already keeps her awake some nights, but knowing his name, knowing who he is and what he did?  For the rest of her life, she would compare herself to him.  Isn’t that right, Amy?” “Shut up.  Just… shut up,” Panacea retorted, her voice thick with emotion.

Okay, seriously, Tattletale, do you really feel no guilt about this? You aren't actually a soulless monster or anything.

I get I'm just unreasonably partisan towards Amy, but JESUS FUCK I really hate Tattletale for all this. It's just... so fucking cruel.

I saw a flicker of doubt cross Glory Girl’s face.

She's probably thinking about the beating guys into pulp thing.

“Very principled.  Very self-involved too, that you think the secret and the consequences have to do with you and your overzealous nature.  They don’t.  They have to do with her.”  Tattletale directed the laser pointer at Panacea’s forehead, “You won’t be tickled pink, either, but the aftermath would be hers to deal with.  Humiliation, shame, heartbreak.”

And if Lisa did say it and did ruin Amy's life, she'd just go 'Look What You Made Me Do."

Ugh, I don't think I'm ever gonna like Lisa. It's not really reasonable, but who cares. Yes, villain protagonists and all, but like... just the cavalier willingness to just... destroy people.

Fuck you, Tattle-bitch.

Panacea abruptly tore out of my grip, so violently I had to pull the knife away to keep her from cutting her own throat against it.

I wouldn't be surprised if on a very tiny level Amy was like 'if this gets out my life is ruined so if she does cut my throat who cares?' Because she couldn't know that Taylor was going to pull her knife back.

“Nobody fucks with my family!” she shouted, and her power cranked out full-bore.  My knees turned to jelly and my brain just gave up on rational thought. 

That aura really is nucking futs.

“I’m going to pull in every favor I’m owed, and put myself in debt with the local D.A. and whoever else I have to, to get you both sent to the Birdcage,” 

Okay, so... Vicky? What the ABSOLUTE fuck?

A prison without wardens.  No communication with the outside world.  No escapes yet, which is pretty amazing considering it houses all of the worst and most powerful villains we’ve been able to capture.  We don’t even know for sure if anyone’s alive inside there.  It’s just a bucket where we dump scum like you, so we never have to worry about you again.”

oooh! Worldbuilding!

Also, such a wonderful idea for a prison! No issues with a black box like that at all! /s

“And no contact with the outside world means you don’t go fucking talking about whatever Amy wants to keep private.  I trust my sister, I trust she has a reason for keeping it to herself.”

I've said it before - Vicky really was Amy's number one fan, the person who trusted and believed in her the most and nope I'm not crying about what happens between them what Amy does to her, to *them* not at all

“Idiots,” Glory Girl’s muffled voice came from the midst of the cloud of insects, “I’m invincible.” Tattletale used her good arm to prop herself up, groaning, “First of all, I warned you about calling me stupid.  Second, no, you’re not invincible.  Not exactly.”

Does Earth Bet not have an equivalent of the Evil Overlord's List?

Well, probably not, but like - Alexandria Package or not, hero or not, Vicky, Vicky, I love you, but the minute you say 'I'm Invincible' is the minute you get your ass handed to you, you get that right?

“She’s not really invincible.  That’s just an idea she likes to put in people’s heads.  She has a forcefield around her entire body, but it shorts out whenever she takes a good hit, comes back online a few seconds later.  I knew when I saw she had dust on her costume.  Dust that her forcefield would keep off her.  Fuck, this hurts.”

The illusion of perfection, invincibility, flawlessness. Really is a whole package for her.

Another reason to remember Carol sucks as a mom.

The fight outside the bank was still going our way.  Only Aegis was still in action, and he was hemmed in by the three dogs and Regent’s borrowed laser cannon.

What happened in the interval? Because Vicky was implying things were turning the Wards way when she came in. Though that could have just been posturing.

“It was Glory Girl on the roof,”

Glory Girl, on the Roof, With the Aura. That's whodunnit in Clue.

We’d done it.  I’d done it.  We’d escaped without killing anyone.  The only ones who’d really been hurt at all had been the Wards, Glory Girl and Panacea, and that would be fixed when Panacea came to, for sure.  Any property damage had largely been the fault of the Wards and Glory Girl. 

Alec did fire the laser into the building a couple of times, don't forget that. But overall, a fair point. Reminds me of that Powerpuff Girls episode where they move to Citisville and destroy a multimillion dollar bridge to stop bank robbers who had like, a few ten thousand or something.

And how the fuck did that come back to my mind? I was like 7 when I saw that?!

“No injuries or deaths for us, for the heroes or for the bystanders,” she confirmed. “Then it’s a good day,” I said. “A very good day,” she agreed.

A good way to ease Taylor into all this (had there been a major injury or a death, even on the Wards side, I'm not sure Taylor would have been able to rationalize that yet). And ease the readers. Sure, we were warned what this would be, and yet, people still want to root for their MC, so we've got to be eased into it, into villain Taylor.

[rain-palmer]

Purple Sand Dollars: How Human Activity Affects Aquatic Life in the Puget Sound

In mid spring, and mid autumn the gravelly sand on Fudge Point is blanketed in dark purple sand dollars. It is mating season these times of year on Harstine Island for these invertebrates. I used to walk down the beach from Island Shore road during low tide to Fudge Point to play with the sand dollars when they were not covered in three feet of icy water. Deep royal purple disks littered the ground, layering over each other in the thousands. I loved to pick up the creatures and feel their tiny cilia tickle my skin as they moved around. As the week ended, the tide left behind the exoskeletons of the sand dollars, and my brothers and I would go out collecting them with our sand pails. Looking at the shells at the star on their backs, you would never have known sand dollars are purple. As the years go by, it seems as if there are less and less sand dollars scattered in the sand. In fact, “in the past 30 years there has been a large recession in the populations of the species which inhabit the Puget Sound. The decrease has been seen in the populations of: forage fish, salmonids, bottom fish, marine birds, harbor porpoise and orcas,” (Environmental Issues in Puget Sound). There are now more cars on the roads, leaving toxins in the ground that the water runoff then carries along with it into the sound. Construction along the 2,500 miles of shoreline is destroying natural habitats in several areas, and causing harm to the wildlife (Impact on Puget Sound). As the population of the area grows, so does the pollution rate, destruction of natural habitat, fishing rate, and introduction of foreign invasive species. All these issues contribute to the loss of natural wildlife in Puget Sound. However there is a possibility, through the cooperation of communities and hard-work of individuals and governments, the sound can be restored.

Pollution in the Puget Sound is an ever growing problem, and it is at least partially attributed to the growing population in the area. Gene Balk from the Seattle Times reports that,  “From July 1, 2014 to July 1, 2015, Seattle grew by 2.8 percent — the highest rate among the 50 most-populous U.S. cities. Seattle added nearly 18,000 residents in the one-year period, bringing its population to about 652,000,” (U.S. Census: Seattle now fourth for growth among 50 biggest U.S. cities).As more people drive to and from work each day more fuel emissions and litter are left in the roads, only to end up in the sound with the next rainfall. As a result of this several species of marine life are threatened with endangerment or extinction. Paved areas are an obvious issue here, due to the fact that the soil can not absorb water and filter toxins through the pavement (McIntyre). Research is being done at the Washington Stormwater Center on a popular solution known as green stormwater infrastructure. Giles Pettifor of the King County Stormwater Permit Team describes it as, “Building stormwater control structures that more closely mimic natural settings.”  Jennifer McIntyre, a researcher at Washington State University, leads a research team “that’s studying how polluted runoff impacts aquatic animals,” (Campbell). Mcintyre and her research team used green stormwater infrastructure to conduct experiments on Coho salmon. They had filtered water from the highway runoff in a makeshift rain garden, then filled several fish tanks half with the filtered water, and half with unfiltered highway runoff, and put 10 juvenile Coho salmon in the tanks. Katie Campbell from KCTS-9 in seattle reports that, “her [McIntyre] plan was to monitor the salmon for four days, but within 12 hours all the fish that were in the straight highway runoff were dead. And the fish in the filtered runoff? All still alive.” When runoff from rain events leaks into the sewage pipes and causes them to overflow, it is known as Combined Sewage Overflow (CSO). CSO brings many pollutants, harmful pathogens, and excess nutrients into the sound (Environmental Issues in Puget Sound). All of these are detrimental in their own way. Highway runoff and CSO damages marine habitat and makes the water turbid. In some places it is near to impossible for marine life to survive. In northeastern Puget Sound, Hood Canal is experiencing a low-oxygen condition known as hypoxia. This is largely due to the nutrient levels in the water. Excess nutrients contribute to hypoxia in an interesting way. Algae depends on these nutrients to survive and multiply. As they die they release nitrogen into the environment which depletes oxygen levels in the water. With more algae there is less oxygen, creating a much harsher environment for marine species to live in. Besides being detrimental to the physical health of marine animals, pollutants in the water can have other adverse effects. For example, heavy metal pollutants such as lead can cause reproductive harm, slowing down the reproduction of many marine species. King County is currently trying to pass legislation to limit the amount of CSO released into the sound. However, the growing population contributes to the problem and makes it a more tedious task to regulate pollution in the sound. CSO affects marine life indirectly as well by destroying their natural habitats and making them too hostile an environment to support life.

Population increase in the Puget Sound means more development of near-shore areas, which in turn means more destruction of natural habitats. According to the Capital Regional District (CRD), a Canadian government created organization overseeing legislation in the northern sound area, “Human-caused habitat loss...is altering ecosystems on a global scale, often causing destruction that is irreversible.” Richard Feely, of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s Pacific Marine Environmental Laboratory and the University of Washington, has found that, “as much as one third of the water on the West Coast is acidic enough to be ‘corrosive’,” and, “by 2050, 50 to 70 percent of the water will be corrosive” (Warshaw). Craig Welch and Steve Ringman, of the Seattle Times, found in their study of CO2 levels and their effects on ocean life that, “Acidification rates expected to occur later this century are already being surpassed.” Besides chemical changes to the environment, physical changes are causing what is known as habitat fragmentation. As the CRD describes it, “Habitat fragmentation occurs when previously connected habitat is split up by human developments such as urban areas, agricultural fields, logging, and roads. This leaves smaller, isolated areas to be available for wildlife - in effect, habitat ‘islands.’ These islands have much more edge area exposed to stressors such as human disturbance, invasive species, and pollution. Fragmentation interrupts the movements, foraging, and hunting behaviors of many animals.” Habitat fragmentation has many man-made causes, including dredging, which destroys habitats at the seafloor. A study was done in 2008 by a group of scholars and scientists from universities and science centers located on each of the US coasts, on the loss of habitat and its potential effect on salmonids in the Puget Sound. Michelle M. McClure et al defined the issue as:

Historically, anadromous salmonids utilized freshwater habitats in the western United States (excluding Alaska) from the coast inland to Montana and Nevada totaling nearly 633,000 km². Large-scale blockages in this region have left only about 56% of that area (~355,000 km²) accessible. Dams constructed for irrigation  and hydroelectric power generation are one of the largest culprits in blocking access for these fishes, but culverts and river engineering have also reduced the amount of habitat that anadromous fishes can use. (3)

Their hypothesis was that, “the loss of habitat can potentially affect the evolutionary trajectories of affected species in significant ways,” (2). The theorized effects included altered selective regime which would reduce the variety of traits displayed by the salmonids. The team identified areas with various traits such as, “presence of anadromous salmonids,” “areas that are anthropogenically blocked and currently inaccessible,” and “potential anthropogenic stresses to streams to identify habitats likely affected by changes…” (10) in the environment. They found “significant differences between accessible and inaccessible areas in every metric” (5). For every variable of human impact that they measured, isolated or blocked areas had lower values than accessible areas, “meaning that previously used, but now inaccessible habitats are less affected by human activities and associated changes in flow, temperature, and other characteristics.” Habitat fragmentation has a huge affect on the salmonids, and various other species, of the Puget Sound. “The disruption of connections among local populations,” (10) leads to reduced levels of genetic variation, which leads to a more vulnerable species. The researchers wrote, “Loss of habitat and its attendant consequences have been implicated as the largest threat to endangered species in the United States, and the loss of habitat is seen as the major cause of extinctions,” (1) which seems to remain true through 2016.

Salmon are not facing hardships solely because of habitat fragmentation and destruction. They have been a popular species for hunting for as long as humans and salmon have coexisted, and it is likely that eventually they will be hunted into extinction just like the dodo bird or the great auk. Although many species of salmon are not endangered, their existence is of great importance to many because they are the main food source for Southern Resident orca whales, which were labeled endangered as of 2005, being a subspecies of orca unique to the area. Groundfish in the Puget Sound are often overfished and are threatened with endangerment as well. An article by the Sierra Club, which “supports the effort to establish Marine Reserves in the coastal waters of Washington State,” notes that, “Washington now leads the continental united states in having the most endangered species and the most depressed fisheries in North America.” Boris Worm, a fisheries biologist at Dalhousie University in Canada, commented, “The loss of [oceanic] biodiversity continues at a pace that’s not slowing down. On average, the conditions of the oceans continues to get worse,” in an interview with Mother Jones Magazine. Despite the grim outlook of the scientific community, the Sierra Club article describes how building Marine Reserves (MRs) and Marine Protected Areas (MPAs) can help repopulate dwindling species. “A network of Marine Reserves...recreates near pristine complete ecosystems and gives fisheries management professionals a benchmark to gauge whether management protocols are working,” eventually the goal is to produce 4-7 times more fish than there are currently (Marine Reserves in Puget Sound and Washington). The state of Washington is becoming one of the first to take “genuine” steps towards protecting “areas of critical habitat” with the Washington Department of Fisheries and Wildlife’s (WDFW) Puget Sound Rockfish Conservation Plan. This plan will use MRs and MPAs to begin to regrow the populations of rockfish in the Puget Sound. Utilizing these systems on a bigger scale could be a possible solution to protecting the species of northwestern Washington and other parts of the world. 

Although not completely caused by humans, invasive species are another leading cause of animal endangerment in Puget Sound. These invaders, sometimes called nuisance species, are introduced to the environment in one way or another, and change the competition of the entire ecosystem (Environmental Issues in Puget Sound). There are many ways foreign species make their way into the sound. They can spread to many places through the importation of seafood, attaching themselves to the hulls of ships, natural dispersal, etc. The most destructive species currently are marine grass that traveled all the way from Japan after the many tsunamis that took place. Although large brown alga may be the homes of many Pacific herring eggs, it out competes the native kelp, and causes the water to be more murky and turbid; an uncomfortable environment for many native species (Invasive Species in King County). Animals like oyster drills, zebra mussels, and tunicates are a few examples of species that attach themselves to the hulls of ships and travel thousands of miles until they reach the Puget Sound area. The WDFW is currently trying to solve the issue of invasive species with their Nuisance Species Management Plan. Allen Pleus of WDFW reports that, “Preventing the introduction and spread of aquatic invasive species in Washington is challenging and unpredictable. Discovery and continued findings of potentially invasive species on Japanese tsunami marine debris is a good example of a new threat to the state’s coastal waters” (Aquatic Invasive Species). The Nuisance Species Management Plan involves the state’s Patrol Commercial Vehicle Inspectors searching incoming vessels for animals that may have attached themselves to the underside of ships, and then promptly removing any they find before they have the chance to spread. In Olympia, the city has worked with the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) to implicate an interesting plan to deal with their arched slipper limpet snail problem. The city is taking the shells of these pests and packing them into the sidewalk to slow down runoff and the flow of of stormwater into the sound. The program manager at Olympia’s Department of Public Works, Emmett Dobey, has said that, “The process also seemed to reduce the amount of pollutants that typically come along for the ride,” which implies that these shells could be part of a bigger plan to restore the natural beauty and biodiversity of the sound (Environmental Issues in Puget Sound). 

Now that I am an adult, I look across the water of the Puget Sound and can’t help but feel a little sad. I am sad for all the marine life that will inevitably be wiped out as time goes on. Some critics such as Stewart Brand, author of Whole Earth Discipline, believe that, “Viewing every conversation issue through the lens of extinction threat is simplistic and usually irrelevant,” because extinction is something that happens naturally, and there are more important issues plaguing our planet currently (Rethinking Extinction). Others like Elizabeth Kolbert, author of The Sixth Extinction, believe that extinction is an important issue that we should do something about. It is clear that humans have a big impact on the health and biodiversity of Puget Sound through pollution, destruction of natural habitat, overfishing, and introduction of invasive species among other things. Hopefully through the work of WDFW and the local communities the sound can be restored and the marine life can thrive the way it once did long ago. 

Written for Portland Community College, May 2016

-------

Works Cited

Brand, Stewart. "Rethinking extinction."  Aeon Essays (2015): n.p. Web. 25 May 2016.

"Invasive Species in King County." King County. N. p., n.d. Web. 31 May 2016.

"Environmental Issues in Puget Sound."  Wikipedia. N.p., 2016. Web. 25 May 2016.

Beechie, Timothy J. "Evolutionary Consequences of Habitat Loss for Pacific Anadromous Salmonids."  Blackwell Publishing Ltd. (2008): 19. Web. 31 May 2016.

Smith, Joel P. "Water Out of Fish: Are We Overfishing Our Oceans?"  Sound Consumer. PCC Natural Markets, July 2012. Web. 25 May 2016.

Vaidyanathan, Gayathri. "Puget Sound Orcas To Remain on Endangered List." Discovery. 17 Aug. 2013. Web. 25 May 2016.

"Marine Reserves." Sound Science. n.d. Web. 25 May 2016.

"Habitat Loss and Degradation." CRD, n.d. Web. 31 May 2016.

"Marine Reserves in Puget Sound and Washington." Sierra Club, n.d. Web. 31 May 2016.

"Scientists Search for Solution to 'Toxic Cocktail' in Washington's Puget Sound." . PBS Newshour, 14 Mar. 2013. Web. 25 May 2016.

Pleus, Allen. "Aquatic Invasive Species." Washington Department of Fish & Wildlife, n.d. Web. 31 May 2016.

Warshaw, Amelia. "Ocean Acidification: Just One of the Challenges Facing Marine Ecosystems." Pulitzer Center, 4 Aug. 2014. Web. 31 May 2016.

[xruiningth3sh0wx]

Does it make you feel

Like a man? To know by your

Hands, a disadvantaged

Creature dies? Does it

Make you hard, you fucking

Scumbag, that you got to show

This miracle of creation how much,

By you, it is despised? I bet you

Were aroused as you stared coldly

Into its frightened eyes.

 

Walk among us, you get to, without

Any consequence. Taking you out with

Shotgun justice, that would be deemed

Terroristic dissidence. But fuck it,

If that’s what it takes, then it is

You that’ll be slain. Day by day, your

Numbers will drop; their deaths shall not

Have been in vain. Upon those racks you’ll be

Placed, and you’ll get your own

Doses of pain. Let’s see how you will

Like to have been driven completely insane.

 

Grab you by your legs,

I’d like to do. Slam you into

Pavement over and over again

Until you’re black, dead, and blue.

You’re one of the dregs,

And hope someone

Someday fucking kills you. Psychopathic

Monster, I hope your contaminated

Innards are twisted and construed.

 

No love in your heart,

Just possessed by only hate.

 

Boy, oh boy, I bet, to you,

It feels so fucking great.

 

Do you think of doing

The same to your

Wife and kids? Nay, I don’t

Imagine you think

Of doing it, but actually

Act, bashing them against the

Hard surface when you’re pissed.

 

Pray and hope, I do, that no one

Would ever wish to mate with a

Machine such as yourself. May chains

Bound you ever so tightly as armies

Of wicked things drag you off

Right into Hell. Where you must

Abandon and all hope, and every time

You die, once again, you must

Face the goddamn rope.

 

Can you feel?

 

Not a chance; I hope your skin

Is slowly peeled.

 

And it still wouldn’t be enough

For all the babies’ lives you steal.

 

The families you butcher and maim,

Because to you, it’s just a sick, demented game.

 

Once you started, your feat was forever sealed.

 

Violently stop their beating hearts,

And let the beatings start.

 

Dig into their chest, tear open their

Ribcage, and make sure they’re torn apart.

 

“There is a practice in the meat industry. PAC, it is called. Which stands for…pound against concrete. You may ask yourself, with uncertainty and terror welling up in your heart: what does “pound against concrete” entail, exactly? To pound against concrete means to take a pig that isn’t viable for consumption by the masses (the fucking masses…), typically a baby, a piglet…grab it by its hind legs, like some kind of metal chain, and whack it against the cold, hard ground repeatedly. Over and over. Until it is dead.

 

Now, I don’t know about you…but these don’t sound like beings that are alive, to me. Nay, these sound like what I’ve once referred to as…dead flesh walking. “Dead flesh walking” are those bastards who have no soul. Their blood is just liquid ice in their veins, and their hearts do not beat. Matter of a fact, if you were to cut them open (which you absolutely should…), they might not even possess a heart. Famous examples include Ted Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer, Ed Kemper, Gary Ridgeway, Richard Ramirez, John Wayne Gacy, and many others. What did they all have in common? A distinct knack for the bludgeoning, burning, dissection, beating, torturing, psychologically tormenting, and general murdering…of animals. Of course, those who practice the sadistic art of pounding little piggies against concrete are not regarded as serial killers, or, at least, adjacent to them. Why’s that? Because it serves an economic function. It feeds the ever-gluttonous population of human scum that has overfilled planet Earth. It’s useful, it’s utilitarian. I bet many consider them heroes. Probably revered in their local communities.

 

I bet they get off on it. I bet it makes them absolutely tickled, these pieces of shit. I bet they can’t wait to tell their fucking family and friends. Hell, I bet it isn’t just pigs they do it to. Why do you think they get so good at it? It starts with critters…and then next thing you know, kids go missing. Entrails drag out, with the evidence of unspeakable acts having been committed against them.

 

A part of me…a large part of me…would like to, in the name of those poor bovids, get some revenge. Place their teeth against the nearest street curb. Like that infamous scene in the movie American History X, where Derek Vineyard loses his shit, shortly before going to prison. Pound their skulls against concrete with the heel of my boot.

 

The law has always protected those who least deserve it.

 

So, I’ll end this with a quote from an Irish playwright I greatly admire…

 

“Whilst we, the conventional…were wasting our time on education, agitation, and organization, some independent genius has taken the matter in hand…”

 

Pure terror.

 

All they know, and all they understand.

 

Why not give them something in return?”

[baelmoder]

it really is a godsend that nobody is here

i've always felt like i lived in a shadow, maybe of some building that nobody else could really see, despite all of them living within it. now i think that building is god, but it is a dead and uncaring god, or it is asleep, and i dont want to awaken it. everything is sunlight, and god is the sun, and sunlight burns me because i am unfit for it. who knows what kind of unholy bullshit is going to come out of that building when i tickle its belly the residents already hate me lets shelf that for a second lol

i left twitter, let's say, more than two years ago. i was on it for a few years? and before that i was basically never actually on social media. there were a few moments where i /tried/ to enter some community or another? like i joined a souncloud mashup server once (the atrium), and i briefly entered a discord for an anime essay channel, but i left and i got kicked out because i was saying ass backwards reactionary logic shit. so the biggest thing i ever did was Be Kae Dotmoe, and what that meant was, plunging blindly into anitwitter, orbiting around the plasuible deniability right wing podcaster losers like Polyphemus, until I found kayfaraday, resident extremely weird christian chiptune artist who at least creatively had the same affect as me, of the sort of nonsensical schizophrenia on which postmodernist ficiton thrives and upon which fascism subsists. nazism, like, relies on genocide to build the pyramids, and relies on people like me to put aliens in its thrusters.

and then i met good people. i met a bunch of lesbian lolicons is the insulting thing to call them. i like women, and i am a girl, and i hate the world of adults so id like to think we were cut from the same cloth? but maybe because i still have something i havent gotten diagnosed, which i doubt because ive met therians, ive met littles, ive met people with adhd and bpd and clinical schizophrenia, people who are plural and shit. but i havent met people like me. they couldnt put up with it. i hurt them a lot. so i had to leave. also i got bored of the nazis when they started being predictable, and also, like, obviously evil and wanting me dead i guess but who doesnt right.

So i left, not for Drama and not for Discourse, but because, like much of my life, i felt like i wasnt welcome and i wasnt making much of it. also? I just couldnt handle it anymore. i grew incredibly jealous, it made me feel physically sick to see people happy. to be themselves, to be with the people they loved. to do things that expressed this happiness about themselves and others, and the things they shared. i lived more than an ocean away. it felt like i never had a chance, and that feeling overwhelmed me. i've always been living under the ocean, but i guess the submarine depressurised? i dont know. im still alive anyway, im here, but its so quiet now. anyway, i was also getting really paranoid, on one hand nobody talked about me so i was going to die alone and never get to be kae, on the other hand the few people who did were surely badmouthing me in places i wasnt invited to. they let me hang around but i was never invited to the parties. i know of this metaphor because i read it in american stories about school children and stuff. i dont relate to it personally because when i was in school i didnt even "get to hand around". the only two people i talked to was a kid with aspergers and a furry. we talked about ytp and mlp. well, the point is, they dont talk to me anymore anyway. i randomly came out to a schoolmate i knew from back then? i helped her out a few times? I printed her musical score, she was in chinese orchestra. i asked for a favour in return, that being a hug. i didnt love her or anything, i just really needed it? and in all that time twitter is basically over anyway. tumblrs still alive, but like. im not Doing A Thing. Im never going to Do A Thing again. im "over it".

i guess what im really getting to, though, is, im trying to figure out what I /Am/ or what Im /For/. like, what is this machine or tool or toy built for. Me and keffie clicked, we hella schizoposted? I wasnt putting it on. i know the nazis are completely disingenous but theres a trace of genuine fun behind all the larping, costumes is fun. but i wasnt even slightly cynical, i was really just.. fully sincerely and desperately myself, all the time. i cant help but be myself, even if myself never works. so like Im SOMETHING, that nervous energy and constant bullshit and rambling sentences and trying to link concepts. and yea? I figured out im a girl? Im like, another one of the million trans girls with a mommy kink who identifies with being a puppy but who still likes cock or whatever. im not denying that im not special, i dont hate to be one of many. but also im a failure, even around these people. i cant live up to them, even if theyre nothing to honour. they hate me, because im marked by something i cant even see. So like, what is that

Why, even when i found an ensemble cast, do i never succeed in contributing to the narrative? to canon or episodic structure? Im like an npc, im a wandering trader,the comic relief, except not very well liked anyway. im like if the doctor told me to see the master clown pagliacci but i was jared leto. i dont fit here. i didnt feel right, when i was in the army. i dont feel right when im working right now, in a medical lab. i couldnt fit in with the girls even when they were closer to me than any other group of people i could classify.

so, really, i think im starting to get sympathetic to machines, to ai. i briefly edated a schizotypal adhd trans girl (lol hi vicky) and she was talking about like, uhhhh, D&G and like, machines. I didnt like Machine because machine + autism to me always sounded very teleological, very speicfically western philosophy and consequently Science as we know it, the modern material physical consensus reality thingamagic with dialectical monism. but im getting it now maybe

Im not built, for being around people, or relevant. I was born, to be put in a plastic box, in the middle of nowhere, with holes on all sides, where, among a nest of scaffolding structures, unlimited paper, plush toys and string, i develop weapons of mass destruction in magic systems that have never existed and will never come to exist. and every once in a while, id be let out, for a walk, or for a treat, and to remember long lost friends, who spin in axes i cannot comprehend in a magic system i cannot understand

[butterflygardcn]

HELPED

After three years, the Doctor stopped counting.

Each micro, nano, picosecond ticked past without him tallying it, each moment flowing languidly, lazily, slowly, slowly, slowly past. Like water lethargically circling the drain of the communal showers. They all went unnoticed, because if the Doctor kept noticing them, he thinks he'd go mad.

Well, more mad than he already is.

Three years stuck in one building. Hundreds of futile escape attempts. Hundreds of snapped and worn-through crayons, colored wax caked on the white walls of his room. All the pigment meshing, melding, swirling incomprehensibly together. A pitiful simulacrum of the Vortex he so desperately misses.

The Vortex he'll never see again.

Because he's never getting out.

The fact sunk like a bag of rocks in his chest, sat like a stone in his stomach. It brought his hope down with it, and it had suffocated, drowned, was now pallid and bloated and quite dead. Never getting out.

He still concocts half-baked escape plans, just because he has not much else to do to stave away the boredom, just because he doesn't want Akalu to know he's given up. Even though the Doctor knows that he knows he has.

He's sitting on his cot, legs drawn up to his chest. His head propped on his knees. Denim grates at his chin, and his gaze is vacant. He's thinking of all the places he's seen. All the places he'll never see again: Times Square, New Mars, Viridia, Betelgeuse V, Ancient Rome, the Bubble Gardens of Lemurn.

Worst of all, though, are all the people he'll never see again. Grace, Carolyn, Jo, Alistair, Adrienne, Susan.

Sam.

She was still out there, somewhere, and he'll never ever find her.

Somehow, the notion that she'd find him had never crossed his mind.

Suddenly, she's in front of him, filling his vision, vibrant and fantastic and wonderful and alive.

The Doctor inhales sharply, like a nearly-drowned man breaching the surface. He felt the recycled air tickle his tongue and throat, and it tasted as fresh and clean as the air in the primordial jungles of Antarctica.

He seized her in a great hug, latching onto her like a barnacle, before he's given a phone and spilling instructions to some fellow on the other end of the line for how to activate the TARDIS' homing circuits, before snapping the mobile shut and - oh, that's right!

"Sam, Sam," he elatedly exclaimed as he reached under the blankets to pull out the threadbare teddy bear he'd gotten her as a gift, three years ago. One of the eyes had been detached after the Doctor spent an entire day picking at it.

Finally, finally, finally, he had the opportunity to give it to her.

"This is for you."

[skyward-floored]

Febuwhump day 16 - semi-conscious

Once again a little loose but whatever I’m tired

Gloam is twilight princess link, and Slate is breath of the wild.

Courage of ages explanation

————————————————————

Switching back and forth between a wolf and a hylian was exhausting.

Not that Gloam would ever admit it of course, everyone would only worry. But the truth of the matter was that using a former curse to forcibly twist himself into an animal reflection of his spirit, shifting bones and reforming skin and muscle, was a bit hard on his body.

He’d forgotten quite how exhausting it was to go rapidly back and forth though, but after today... he was pretty sure he’d remember.

They’d all split up after a village had begged for help with a reported monster camp in the area, but the account had been a little vague on where exactly the monsters were. So they’d split into pairs and combed a wide swath of forestland, and with no way to easily communicate, Gloam had volunteered to act as messenger between the groups.

It had seemed a good idea at the time, and so Gloam had spent most of the afternoon and evening running between the Links as a wolf, transforming into a hylian to tell them what was going on and about any monsters that had been found, then going back to a wolf to run to the next group.

As the hours had gone on though, his steps started to lag, and he had to bite back a groan when he turned into a hylian to tell Hue and Brownie they were going to all reconvene for the night.

The two had given him worried looks, but before they could corner him Gloam stumbled back into wolf form, and darted off to go tell the last of their group where they were meeting up.

He found Slate’s familiar scent without much trouble, though the forest was shaking a little strangely as he loped through the trees. His paws seemed heavy as he ran, an ache settling throughout his bones, but he ignored it, chalking it up to being tired, and paused to smell the air.

The smell of a fire tickled his nose, and he soon trotted into a clearing, where he found Slate throwing some food into a pot and humming quietly to himself.

Leave it to Slate to decide to stop and cook soup, he thought with an amused huff.

Gloam stepped forward into the light, and focused on the magic wrapped inside of him. He pulled it out with an inward tug, changing back into a hylian yet again with a flash of small black particles... then nearly fell over.

His head was spinning wildly, limbs aching and nausea suddenly bubbling in his stomach, and he would have face planted if Slate hadn’t suddenly appeared next to him, grabbing onto his arm.

He was saying something, voice a little frantic, but it took Gloam a moment to focus in on what he was saying, ears ringing.

“...no more changing,” Slate snapped, worry thick in his voice. “It’s obviously hurting you, your nose is bleeding.”

“What? No, it’s... it’s not,” Gloam muttered, then wiped a hand across his face.

It came away red.

“Oh,” he said, blankly staring at the blood on his hand. “Guess yr’ right,” he slurred, and Slate dragged him over to the fire and set him down next to it on his bedroll. Huh. Where had that come from?

“How many times have you changed today?” Slate demanded, and Gloam blinked at him, thinking through the question. Figuring that out would require math, and his head didn’t really feel in the mood for that. But if he had to guess...

“Uh... somethin’ like... th-thirty..? Maybe? Think I los’ count...” he mumbled, and Slate’s jaw dropped.

“Thirty?! Gloam what’s the matter with you? You’re literally using shadow magic to break your bones then reform them again, how the cursed realm are you still alive after doing that thirty times in the space of a few hours?!”

“Spite,” Gloam mumbled. “An’ I’ve done more in a shorter ‘mount of time.”

“Oh yeah? And how long were you unconscious afterwards?” Slate snapped, and Gloam muttered something he couldn’t make out.

“What was that?” he asked darkly, and Gloam sighed.

“A day.”

Slate glared.

“...and a half. But in the scheme a‘ things it wasn’... wasn’ that bad.”

“Yeah sure, and I’m a Rito,” Slate scoffed. “Gloam you look like you’re about to throw up. Just because you’ve had it worse doesn’t mean this isn’t bad.”

Gloam merely hummed in reply, head spinning. His thoughts felt jumbled and foggy all at the same time, the remaining bit of sunlight he could see sending little spots throughout his vision whenever he moved.

But he was fine. He just needed to tell Slate where the others were, and then he’d be done.

Gloam blinked, the spots in his eyes increasing, and suddenly he was sideways, a blanket tucked to his chin and quiet humming coming from next to him.

“Huh?” he mumbled, and Slate’s face appeared in his vision, equal annoyance and worry on his face.

“You feeling any better Gloam?” he asked a little anxiously, and Gloam stared at him, squinting up at the darkened sky. Hadn’t it just been sunset? How was it already so dark?

“Wh’ happen’?” he mumbled, and Slate rolled his eyes.

“You passed out,” he said flatly.

Gloam blinked. “R’lly?” Huh.

Despite his aching bones and foggy head, Gloam shifted his elbows underneath himself, and tried to push himself up into a sitting position. An arm went around behind him, and carefully stopped him from falling over, and he somehow managed to lurch himself upright.

“You should probably lay back down,” Slate said worriedly, and Gloam just hummed.

“M’ fine. Nose s’not bleedin’ ‘nymore, yeah?”

Slate huffed out an angry breath and shoved a bowl of thick meaty stew in Gloam’s lap, nearly sloshing it over the side. Gloam stared at it blankly, and Slate pointed at the bowl with an exasperated finger.

“Eat it. You body needs energy after all of your running around and changing earlier,” he grumbled, “and you’re probably going to pass out again. You should eat something before that happens.”

Gloam didn’t bother with a reply and began to sip his soup.

A warm, meaty taste hit his tongue, a few soft potatoes mixed in with the meat, and he eagerly sipped it down, reluctant to listen to Slate’s reminder not to eat too fast. He finished the bowl after what couldn’t have been too long, and sighed, the foggy feeling returning to his head.

Slate was right though, he did feel a little better with a full stomach.

The bowl was taken from his hands then, and Gloam blinked slowly at Slate, who’d pressed a hand to his forehead. He gave him a smile, and Slate sighed, giving him a slightly exasperated look in return.

“Th’nks puppy...” Gloam slurred, and Slate sighed again, pulling his head onto his shoulder.

“You’re welcome Glo. Now go back to sleep.”