#animals like please we can be rational about this right

[mummer]

look man im a known silly little pacifist on here i truly dont find much of the targaryen of it all compelling when it comes to asoiaf but like i truly do not understand the whole “targaryens = nazis” thing that goes around sometimes. like do u not find this a very flippant comparison to Nazism. theres a way where i feel like i can follow the thought process i guess — targ identity hinges on claiming “special/superior genes”, some of them seek bloodline purity and/or idealize Ye Olde Valyrian Traditions or whatever — but like it doesnt congeal lol. like what is the *point* of this comparison specifically. is the analysis meaningful or are u invoking nazism for lols. or are u just being loud. Now try saying something true and beautiful

[moeblob]

son boy raccoon trash can man suffering in a dnd au as a cleric bc his warlock will not stop committing murders and he has to keep coming up with reasons murder is valid to convince the gm its fine and under control

[bump1nthen1ght]

A Very Monstrous Kinktober (2024) Day 10 - Knotting

Kink: Knotting

Pairing: GN!Reader x M!Werewolf

Other Kinks: Dirty Talk

Word Count: 1425 words

Kinktober Masterlist

“I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

You’re impressed by Ricky’s composure. His cock is bright red, fur clumping together with sweat as his dick bobs with pulsing blood, already leaking precum.

“But I’ve been practicing so hard.” You whine, eyes darting between your boyfriends throbbing knot and the dildo half inside you, your hand slowly pushing it in and out. “I want it so bad, Ricky. Can’t we at least try?” The dild sinks to its base, fake silicone balls pressed right up to your ass. “Don’t you want to knot me?”

“I d-do. Trust me.” Rick pants, cock twitching as he watches your hole take the entire dildo like it’s nothing. “But…you’re human. And my knot is-”

“So big. I know.” You say with drool practically dripping down your chin, eyeing up his throbbing cock. The idea of Ricky, fully seated inside you, plugging you full of his cum and cock, makes your heart jump. You imagine sitting there for hours, warming his cock as his knot finally deflates, knowing you’ve been properly claimed by your big handsome werewolf boyfriend. “That’s what these are for.” You point at the bottle of lube by your side and the dildo currently splitting you open. “I want this honey. I’m not scared.” You emphasize your moans as you force the dildo even deeper, hoping the erotic display is enough to overcome his (rational) fear.

It seems to be effective, if the way Ricky bites his lip and his hand wraps around his knot are any indication. You let your thighs spread wider, hand running up your chest and stomach as you arch your back. Batting your eyelashes and pouting your lip, you look like something out of a virus disguised as porn ad.

“Can we at least try? Please?”

Ricky’s tail thumps behind him, an unmistakable sign that your plan is working. Ricky’s looks quickly from your face to your hole, both desperate and wanton.

“.....Okay.”

You practically squeal with joy, quickly pulling the dildo out and placing it to the side. You fall eagerly onto your back, legs spread wide and grabbing for the lube. “Hold on!” Ricky laughs, slightly flattered by your excitement. “How about you get on top? It will be a little easier that way.” You nod, only a little disappointed on not being mounted and pounded like an animal, but you understand Ricky wants to take it slow. Besides, he always makes the cutest faces when you ride him; Ears twitching, eyes all scrunched up.

You crawl towards your boyfriend on all four knees, relishing the ways his eyes drink up your body as you slide in between his legs and onto his lap. You get a fresh squirt of lube onto the palm of your hand, wasting no time as you grab onto his knot and slicken it up. Ricky squeaks, his eyes going wide.

“Got to get you nice and sensitive, mister.” You purr, already sitting up on your knees and lining yourself up with his tapered tip. “Because we’re not going anywhere for a while.”

Despite all that earlier hesitance, Ricky eagerly puts his paws on your waist, adjusting you so his head perfectly notches against your hole. His tongue wets his lips, his nostrils flaring as he smells your arousal for him. His cock twitches against you, and you smirk.

You go nice and slow as you sink onto Ricky’s cock, the stretch familiar and comfortable, something you’ve done several times before. You arch your back as you do, leaning back to feel all of him scrape over your insides, watching the way he takes shaky breaths, the ways his claws slightly dig into your sides. 

You finally reach the end, dick snugly seated inside you. You can feel his cock jumping as his tip reaches the end, right up against the spot that drives you crazy. Your hips swivel, biting your bottom lip at the jolt of electricity that shoots up your spine. A rumbling growl radiates from Ricky’s chest, his lips curled back in a snarl as you squeeze around his shaft.

“S-should you move, or me?” 

Ricky takes another deep breath, pressing the pads of his fingers into your abdomen.

“Y-you. I don't know If I-” Ricky’s voice hitches, another shuddering breath, “I don’t know if I could control myself.”

That sentence alone makes your body pulse, whole body tightening. Ricky curses under his breath.

Resting your hands on his furry chest, you knot your fingers in the sweaty strands and find purchase, lifting up your hips until your unsheathed to the tip. You slowly sink yourself down again, looking Ricky right in the eye, planting a kiss on his wet nose.

“See, I told you baby. I’ve been practicing.”

You rise up quicker this time, setting yourself down with a little more bounce. Ricky grunts, and you can feel his thighs tense under you.

Pressing your chest against his, you start bobbing yourself up and down, up and down, never quite sinking to the base. Just working yourself on his cock, stoking the slow-burning fire in your belly. You can tell it’s driving Ricky wild, your panting breaths mixing together as he fights the urge to force you down himself. You’re sure you’ll have finger shaped bruises on yourself tomorrow.

“Feelin’ good?” 

“Yeah.” Ricky pants, muzzle now knotche into the crook of your neck. His thighs twitch as you once again only reach 3/4th, so good yet not quite enough. He needs you around him, all of him.

A paw moves up your back, pushing just a bit on your spine. You chuckle between breathy moves.

“What is it, baby? You want more?.”

“Yes.” Ricky growls in your ear, his voice the deepest you’ve heard it. It takes you by surprise, once again jerking and squeezing his cock in arousal. 

“Well, if you want it-” You squeal as the hand on your back turns into a grip, pressing you chest to chest and finally losing it, forcing his dick all the way to the base. The hand around your hips digs in, holding you in place as he starts fucking into you like you’re a sex toy.

“Oh, f-u-uck!” You slur out your vowels, each hit against your insides sending spots behind your eyelids.

“Feel so-” Ricky snarls against your neck, canines clicking, his long tongue slobbering over your neck, “-fucking-” a wet nose presses aginst your pulse, hot trails of breath across your skin, “-good. Shit!”

Ricky sinks deeper into his seat, balls slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. Those powerful thighs generate quite a force, a bruising one that will leave you sore for days from now. But it’s the good kind of pain, the kind that has your stomach clenching and your mouth open in a pant.

It isn’t long before the base of Ricky’s cock starts to swell, halting your smooth fall to the end of his cock. Butterflies come to life in your stomach, still aware enough to know what's coming.

“Gonna fucking knot you.” Ricky grunts, mouth open and pressed against your neck. His canine’s knick at your pounding pulse. “Gonna keep you full of me for hours.”

“Uh-huh! Please, Ricky!”

“Such a fucking knot-slot. Fucking tempting little whore.” Ricky bites down on your neck, still gentle despite his rougher tone. It’s the heat of the moment, talking to you the way he knows you like it.

“Yes, I’m your little knot slut. I want it!” You circle your hips around, grinding down and letting the sparks fly in your stomach. “Please!”

Something presses against your hole, something throbbing and swollen. You moan and force your lower half to relax, to match the talk you were spouting earlier. Lube squelches, mixing with your sweat and slick and make it all the easier to sink it inside.

“Ah!”

“Fuck!” 

The knot burns as it enters, thought not nearly as bad as if you were unprepared. But the pressure is enough to send both you and Ricky over the edge, bodies interlocked and trembling as Ricky’s cock shoots jets of cum inside you. It’s enough that it would normally spurt out the sides of his cock and onto his legs, but with his knot so firmly place, not a drop is wasted.

The two of you sit like that for a while, your head nestled in his chest fur as you catch your breath, RIcky’s still hard cock just throbbing inside of you.

“Told ya-” You say between a breath, “-I could do it.”

[honeymaze]

nothing but the two of us

bad days are a constant to him, but your presence is, thankfully, a constant as well.

❤️‍🔥 homelander x supe!fem!reader | established relationship, graphic mentions of dark content (violence, death, reader isn’t the best person out there either), hurt/comfort, reader’s powers aren’t specified (nor does she “work” as a supe), no plot/slice of life

note: hey! just an angsty drabble to open this new blog. hope you guys like it!

-

There is a thick mist glazing over the city as he arrives at his place, just a little before the setting sun takes shelter behind the skyline. Homelander is beyond exhausted, as he usually is, and he feels like the weight on his shoulders might be a little too heavy for him to handle. There aren’t powers in the world that can soften the blow of being paraded around like a caged animal for an entire day — photographed, talked to relentlessly, groped — and there’s nothing he can’t do but endure it.

It’s a divine joke, really. That he is much stronger than everyone else, and yet he has to settle for this game of pretend. They take everything from him, and he scrapes for all the compliments and looks of awe that he can get. But even that is starting to get old.

“Let me guess, bad day?” Your voice breaks his thoughts. He finds you instantly, wearing only an oversized shirt and taking a sip from your coffee. “You look like you’re about to lazer through me.”

He clicks his tongue. “Doesn’t work, remember?” Homelander tries to play it off. You don’t buy it. He sighs and crosses his arms. “Bad day, horrible. Ashley should be grateful that she isn’t in a coffin right now, I’ve already — I’ve already told her how much I hate these stupid interviews.”

You smile, putting your cup down. The act alone makes something stir up inside him. “Vought magazine, right?”

He rolls his eyes. “They couldn’t come up with an original name and they want me to pretend like I care.”

“I don’t know how you manage,” your sarcasm is lost on him, for he only sighs and nods vigorously. “But come on. You’re with me now, magazine be damned. We should enjoy our night.”

“Stupid fucking animals — primates, all of them,” Homelander continues to complain, turning his back to you. He places his hands on his hips and looks over the city that expands just beyond his window. “I could kill all of them with one blow.”

You come behind him, giggling at his hissy fit. John is such a manchild, you can’t take these comments seriously (even if you’ve seen enough proof that they’re not only vacant threats).

“Baby, I know that. They know that. That’s why they love and respect you so much,” you reason. Your arms wrap around his waist and Homelander tenses — then relaxes, melting into your touch. You rest your cheek against his broad back, the vague scent of ashes and blood dancing in your nose. Even if he cleans it, you can still catch it: magazine interviews weren’t everything he did today. But you won’t pry, you don’t really care that much. “If Ashley pushes you through another interview, she’ll have to answer to me. And I’m much meaner and harder to please.”

That manages to tear a laugh from him. “Glad you know that.” He turns around and runs one hand through your hair. His blue eyes went from a dark storm to a calm sea, always a good sign that you’re managing to get to his rational (softer) side. “Thank you.”

You smile and kiss him briefly. In your mind, there’s a clear distinction between Homelander and John, and when you manage to make him click out of his “super-better-than-you” mindset, you’ve won.

The next hour passes by in a routine that you’ve grown used to — a warm shower, the brief cleaning of fast-healing wounds, a passing comment about the sprinkles of blood in his blonde hair. There’s an unspoken knowledge between the two of you about the true nature of the man standing before you and, just as clearly, the notion that you don’t mind it. Maybe that’s why Homelander enjoys your company so much: you don’t judge, you don’t care. He doesn’t know if you look down on non-supes as much as he does, but the bottom line is that you don’t care enough about a few casualties that manage to brighten his day. And that’s enough for him.

“And they were able to cover up that alley situation, right?” You ask randomly as he turns off the shower. John scoffs. “I mean, yeah, I know they always do, but usually things don’t go that south. Starlight looked like she was in shock when I saw her enter the building.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

But it was. The alley situation in question was a mission that the seven were assigned to last week — something about bombs and gun traffic at the dark corners of the city. It was supposed to be a clean-cut mission: get in, neutralize the threat, look for victims, get out. There was one aggravating factor, however: Homelander was having the worst day in weeks, and you were out of town. One thing led to another and at some point the mission turned from “stopping the evil men” to “controlling the unhinged Homelander before he blew up an entire neighborhood”. The destruction was so massive that it was easy to pass it off as a massive bomb activation, but a few surrounding cameras told a different story. The devil works hard but Vought works harder — though, it’s hard to stop a video from spreading after it’s uploaded somewhere.

“Just wanna know if they asked you about it during the interview, that’s all,” you say, reaching for the towels. You could say that you’ve seen it stir up quite the frenzy online, but you knew better than that. As much as you were able to calm down John from a few hissy fits, you knew that the public hatred was stronger than a few soothing words from your end. “I know you always answer the right things and I—“

“So there’s nothing to worry about,” he interrupts. “I don’t know how you can just walk around and live like one of these… worms. Makes me think that you like them more than your own kind.”

In the end, it always comes down to this little mind game: us or them. Homelander or the rest of the world.

“Well, first of all, I don’t think I have what it takes to be in the spotlight, I’m not as good as you,” you start off strong, with a caress to his ego. His blue eyes are frozen in place, staring deep inside your soul for any sign of lies. As much as he can’t lazer through your head, he could break your neck if he tried. And, once again, there’s a thin line between love and hate when it comes to him. “Second… I know my worth regardless of what I choose to do. It’s not because I work amongst non-supes that I see myself as one of them. I like what I do.” Your hand reaches out for his cheek, and he rests his head on your hand. “Besides, I already have everything I want right here. No supe or non-supe world could ever compete, so why even bother?”

Homelander’s eyes stay locked in for another second, not one line of expression on his face. He sighs and relaxes his shoulders, finally adverting his gaze. “I like having you home when I arrive,” is all he answers — in his words: I like you’re not out there when I need you.

“And I’ll always be home for you,” you say, smile growing on the corners of your lips.

He nods. For now, that’s enough.

[steddielations]

ao3 | hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, pre s4

"Hello? Ed, is that you? What's all that noise? What's goin' on?" 

"Wayne, can you come pick me up ... I’m at a party at the Harringtons’ house ... I don't wanna talk about it, man … Can you please just come get me? Please." 

Eddie hangs up the phone and swallows down the lump in his throat. 

He refuses to cry in Steve Harrington's kitchen.

Making his way through all the teenagers crowding this soulless house, he blinks the fog from his eyes. No tears are gonna take him back to half an hour ago, shooting the shit with his dad in the van, happily ignoring years worth of bloody hatchets and skeletons between them. 

While Eddie was desperate for it to be real this time, dear old dad hadn’t changed at all, taking off with Eddie’s van the second he came inside to scope out the party. Sorry to all the manicured girls of Loch Nora that pay pretty pennies for his shitty joints, but his stash is long gone, along with all the cash he made the last few days. 

It’s all in the wind with Al Munson like always.

The muggy air washes over Eddie when he steps outside, rubbing his eyes against the cool sting of wetness brimming in them. He’s not gonna cry in front of Steve Harrington’s pool either, even if he’s alone out here. 

It’s like a different dimension from the crowd inside, but everyone knows the pool is off limits, though no one seems to know why. Everyone just falls in line to the will of the king. Whatever, Eddie doesn’t give a shit he just needs a minute to breathe. He needs a damn cigarette, too, but of course, his smokes were in the van.

“Hey Munson, you sold out already or something?”

Eddie’s hands drop from his face, whipping around to where the voice came from. Caught off guard, embarrassment rises in his cheeks under the gaze of the man himself, Harrington. There’s an almost eerie blue glow casting off the water where he’s sitting poolside in a deck chair, strangely alone out here when he’s got a whole party inside.

Eddie clears his throat, trying to shield his vulnerability from a moment ago, “Nah man, all my shit was stolen.”

“That bites. Do you know who took it?” Harrington sounds oddly… concerned. “I bet it was that dickhead, Hargrove. I kicked him out like 10 minutes ago.”

“What’s it to you?” Eddie shoots back, instinctively distrustful, hackles raised like a cornered animal. He’s already taken a knife to the back tonight.

Harrington holds up a hand as if to ease him, like somehow in all his prim Polo-wearing properness, he’s used to handling wild things. “Just figured maybe I could help you get it back.”

“Why do you care?” Maybe Eddie’s being too defensive, it’s not like Harrington has ever given anyone hell like Hargrove or Hagan, but they’re all one in the same right? Or maybe Harrington really was ousted from the throne like the rumors in the hallways say. Eddie’s got more on his mind right now than the intricacies of Hawkins High pecking order. 

“Uh, because it’s my house and I don’t want some thief around? Jesus you’re prickly, dude.” With an eyeroll, Harrington waves him over to the empty chair next to him. “Here, just sit down and relax for a sec. We’ll see if we can figure it out.”

Eddie hesitates, feeling like it has to be some kind of trap, but there’s no one else around. Harrington’s never done more than stand by while his jock buddies do their damage to whoever or call Eddie a freak under his breath a couple times, but who hasn’t? Eddie encourages it, even. What would Harrington get out of pulling anything now when it’s not for show?

Honestly, Eddie’s just trying to rationalize it because he could really use the beer that’s also up for grabs, offered with an outstretched hand.

So Eddie stalks over to the empty chair, warily sitting down as if it might snap him inside like a snare. His nerves are all frazzled. Between his dad’s little stunt and now the king of the jocks (former king?) is handing Eddie an open beer that he’s taken a sip from himself, give him a break. Eddie mellows out a tad after a couple chugs.

“Do you have any clue who took it?” Harrington asks, way too much concern in the line between his brows than he should be able to fake for Eddie.

“No one here.”

Eddie sort of wishes it was that simple. A stranger would only hurt his pockets, instead of this bone-deep betrayal he should’ve seen coming. He doesn’t even care about the money, or his van, it’s deeper than that. It aches somewhere the booze can’t wash away. He squeezes the cool bottle in his grasp, blaming the contents for what he woefully admits next.

“It was my pops, man. He ran off with my van and everything in it.”

For some reason, it’s embarrassing to say. Either secondhand for his old man pulling something so low-down, or just his own pride for falling for it. He stares at the unnaturally still water in front of him, instead of meeting the gaze beside him.

He can feel Harrington taking in it, questioning it. Maybe he’s wondering how a father could screw over his own son like that, or maybe he’s thinking everyone knows that’s exactly what Al Munson would do, and Eddie— especially Eddie, should’ve known that.

Even Jeff warned him this time too, having been there since the days that Al would bring Eddie a new bike when he won big at the casino, then steal it back the next week to sell when he lost. Seems like Eddie was the only idiot willing to give his dad another chance, even blowing off band practice the last couple days to spend time with him.

“Your van, huh?” Is what Harrington finally says, soft for some reason. “I could give you a ride home. Forest Hills, right?”

That’s… not what Eddie was expecting at all. Just picturing that hotrod that’s all the rage in the school parking lot kicking up gravel in the trailer park rubs him wrong. It’s all off-beat, Eddie feels so far off his center that he’s normally so sure of. All he can do is push back to try and find it again.

“What, you’re gonna ditch your party to slum it on the wrong side of Hawkins with me? Don’t worry about it, I called my uncle.”

Looking over, he sees how Harrington almost looks disappointed by that.

“Yeah okay, but I don’t really care about this party,” he says, not even trying to pass it off in a ‘cool’ way, he just seems put off by it, “Graduation’s coming up, y’know, it was Tommy’s idea. I should’ve said no, I don’t give a shit about it. Or Tommy.”

Again, not what Eddie was expecting. He feels a thud in his stomach at the mention of graduation, yet another failure under his belt. “Well I’m not graduating, so does it count as that kinda party if you’re out here with the super senior freak?” 

“Guess we’re just having a shitty dads party then,” Harrington tries for what Eddie assumes is a reassuring smile, because for whatever reason in this twisted reality, Steve Harrington is trying to comfort him. 

Him, Eddie Munson.

But it ends up striking an already sensitive nerve.

“What do you even know about it?” Eddie scoffs.

Harrington’s smile drops, snapping back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A bitter laugh bubbles up in Eddie’s throat. He hates how it sounds as awful as he feels. Gesturing with the beer in his hand, he states the obvious, “Look around, dude.”

Maybe Harrington’s not as popular at school, but he’s still well off at home. A rich, two parent household that he’s never had to worry about scrounging to keep the lights on. The only business he’ll ever have to do is for his Daddy’s fucking letterhead. Eddie will accept his pity to the extent of a free beer, but he won’t sit there and listen to Harrington pretending to know what it’s like for him.

“Yeah, look around,” Harrington retorts, an even more bitter curl on his lip than Eddie’s. “Got everything except parents, don’t I? Like if they buy me enough shit, I won’t notice they’re hardly here.”

The look in his eyes is a little hurt but fierce, grating enough to cut through Eddie’s defenses. Wayne keeps telling him to stop jumping the gun and going off half-cocked. Yet here Eddie is again, assuming he’s got this guy all figured out.

When in reality, all he knows is that despite being the talk of the town, Harrington’s parents are rarely ever seen around. He lost his girl, doesn’t seem to have any real friends to show, and looks about as lonely at school as he does now— while he’s doing nothing but trying to help Eddie.

“I’m sorry, man,” Eddie relents, “You’re just going against everything I thought I knew about you right now. I’m trying to kick the habit of putting people in boxes with the whole anti-conformity thing. Been told I can be a real judgemental asshole.”

“Yeah I wonder why,” Harrington says lightly, his lips curling back into a smile that sort of makes Eddie want to hide his face. It doesn’t feel wrong somehow, like the rare times that a girl spared him a look, more like it shouldn’t be directed at him. Steve Harrington shouldn’t be smiling at him.

“And call me Steve, alright? If we’re gonna be in the shitty dads club together, we should be on a first name basis.”

That actually gets a laugh out of Eddie. Short and pained as it sounds, it’s real.

“Okay then, Steve,” he has to look away after he says it, feeling his chest cave under the weight of that smile for some reason. Must be the state he’s in. Steve made him forget for a second but he’s sinking again, staring out over the pool, trying and failing to see the bottom.

Read the rest on Ao3

for day one of @eddiemonth prompt “Parents”

[cupidkenji]

Hi!

I love Doctor, Doctor, please listen! The way you wrote about the differences between the two that were apparent at first and then how they were actually similar! 🫠

Would you be interested in doing a follow up for the same reader who still refuses to carry a gun, but then she and Spencer are in danger and an unsub is about to kill Spencer, so she breaks her rule and uses Spencer’s gun to shoot the unsub? She doesn’t have to shoot to kill, but just to protect Spencer.

Like maybe she got injured first and didn’t defend herself but the moment it’s about to happen to “her Doctor”, she knows what she has to do.

(If youre not interested, totally get it!!!) thank you for reading!

ANON YOU'RE A GENIUS OH MY GOD Pairing: Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!reader Cw; Guns, mention of violence towards a kid, reader gets stabbed (again), death mention, mention of reader getting a leg amputated WC: 909 This is a little spin-off of my first fic which you can read here but it can be read as a standalone as well

Things had escalated fast. The team had profiled a calm, rational unsub. She was acting more out of desperation than anything, nobody thought an attack was plausible. You had ruled out a partner early into the investigation, the kills were too mundane for that of two people. Even now, with said partner having killed the unsub, you still wondered how the companion could have possibly hid herself so well. The partner was armed, clearly the dominant of the two, it became an obvious case of master/servant. 

It was just you and Spencer here, Hotch was following close behind but his ETA was around 6 minutes. You didn’t have 6 minutes. She had gotten you good, coming out angry and ready to take out as many as possible. Your leg paid the price as she dove at you. You aimed for the floor, just needing to get out of her way, but you’re about 60% sure she sliced right through your Achilles. It would take all the energy you had to get back up, leaving you stationary and practically useless on the floor. 

The woman was clearly struggling with paranoia. She ditched the knife she struck you with in favor of waving her pistol around. She was incredibly animated as she spoke, throwing her hands in tune with her words as she argued with the air around her. Soon, as though a decision had been made, she set her sights on Spencer. Up until this point, he’d been helping you stop the blood pouring from your leg. You saw her make up her mind, and knew you had to act quick. She was coming for him. 

“Spencer, give me your gun.” You said it quickly and near silently, thanking the heavens he was so close to you. You discreetly laid your hand on the ground, and he placed it on your open palm. His back was towards her, it was up to you to protect him now. 

“You people think the whole world is up for you to dictate, you know that? You can never just let people be.” She was panting, hauling Spencer up from the floor and walking him against the wall at gunpoint. “We were fine! Nobody was ever even meant to get hurt, but you all can never just let people make mistakes.”

You were hiding the gun with your arm, if she saw it she could snap. “We understand mistakes, ma’am. But sometimes people get hurt. Don’t you think it’s fair the people you wronged get some justice?” You tried, but in your professional opinion this woman was already too far gone. 

“No! Don’t say it like that! We didn’t mean to hurt that kid, ok? We just got carried away.” She was rising, there was no talking her down. “You could have let us go, we would have left the country.” It was horrific, she was crying - remorseful. “But now - now I have to kill you and I don’t even want to.”

“Put down the gun, ma’am. Please.” One last bargain. “It doesn’t have to end this way.”

She only cocked the gun as a response, raising her hand to aim the pistol at Spencer’s temple. 

“I’ll make it quick, I promise.”

You didn’t have a choice at this point. This was the first time in your entire career you’d been forced to hurt an unsub. You’d never been anywhere without a team to back you up. This time it was your finger on the trigger. The angle you were aiming from - crooked, while lying on the floor - made it incredibly difficult to predict where the bullet would end up. You aimed low, crossing your fingers it would shock her away from Spencer. She can’t hurt him. It was the only thought left in your head. Please don’t hurt him.

–

You found yourself in the back of an ambulance. Again. The wound was more severe this time, Spencer glued to your side for the trip to the ER. You were going to need surgery to repair the nerve damage she caused.

“I hate hospitals.” Dread pooled in your gut at the thought of going under the knife. Spencer looked at you appalled. He couldn’t believe you were complaining about the service that was going to save you from an amputated leg. Or in other words, he was panicking. 

“Are you kidding me? You’ve lost enough blood to fill half a milk carton, Y/n! The fact they think you’re going to keep your leg means you got luckier than 67.2% of patients with similar stab wounds. Have a little gratuity.” His face was flushed, the hand gestures that usually accompanied his words were otherwise forgotten about. 

“Spencer, I’m gonna be ok.” You looked in his eyes from where you laid on the stretcher. Sounding out each word a little more purposefully in order to calm him down. 

“You shot someone. You’ve never even had to detain someone. I know how much you prioritize peace, Y/n.” Ah, so that’s why he was worked up. 

“Spence.” You laughed a bit - endearingly - at how worried he was about you breaking a vow. “She was going to hurt you. I would have killed her if I had to.” He looked so fragile in the vehicle’s stark lighting.

“Really? You mean that?” The kinder way of saying would you have done that for the others? 

You smiled at his words. “Only for you, Doc.”

[and-claudia]

Against All Odds pt. 11 (Joel Miller x fem! reader)

General Warnings for later on: The main story will have an age gap between Joel and the reader (Reader will be 25 once we get to the main storyline), this will also be your warning that it will eventually be an x pregnant reader (if that’s not your jam, I’m sorry) there is also going to be more graphic/trigger parts later on so please always to be sure to read the warnings BEFORE reading. This story will also be 18+ and TO BE ON THE TAGLIST YOU CAN NOT BE AN AGELESS BLOG (i do actually check that) also there first hand full of parts are all prologue so Joel won’t actually be in it for a bit

warnings for this part: SMUT (+18) (I felt like yall had been starved long enough) PinV, unprotected sex (not that this matters anymore), Nudity, mentions of hunting/killing animals (that is separate from the smut just so we're clear...)

word count: 2700+

gif not mine

It was painfully quiet as we walked. I desperately wanted to ask if Ellie was okay, but I knew she wasn't. I also didn't want to force her to talk. So, I let her be for now. Hopefully she'd come to me when she was ready to talk about it. 

I looked up into the sky to see where the sun was. Since I didn't have a watch, it was my best guide to what time it was. Right now, it was right overhead, noonish if not past it. We had been walking for a long time, and no one had eaten before we began. I knew, even if no one wanted to, we'd have to eat something soon just to have the energy to keep going.

"He-Hey, maybe we should stop for a bit, eat a little something. Keep our energy up until we stop for the night?" I suggested. 

It honestly sounded like I was shouting because of how quiet it had been. 

"That's probably a good idea." Joel said. 

"Not hungry." Ellie said, turning around to look at us. 

"You need to eat something." Joel said. 

"Yeah, just a little bit. Okay?" I said gently. 

She sighed but nodded. 

We found a shaded spot and sat down. I took the opportunity to loosen my bootstraps as Joel got the food out. It was running low, and I knew it, especially when Joel barely took any for himself. He probably thought I didn't notice, but I did.

"Take your own advice. You need to eat too, Joel." I said. 

"I'll be okay." He said. 

"No... I hate to be that person, but even if we ration what we have left, we will be out of food within what three days at best. What are we going to do when we run out?" I asked seriously. 

"Hunt." Joel said simply, "There will be rabbits and squirrels along the way. Easy enough to shoot, not too hard to skin. We'll survive."  

I only nodded. The idea of eating a squirrel definitely made my stomach do a flip, I could handle rabbit easily, but a squirrel would be pushing it. Although I knew I wouldn't have an option when it came down to it. 

"How clean do you think creeks are 'round here?" I asked. 

"Decently. Hasn't been human activity for a good while to pollute them. They'll be clean enough to rinse the grime off, for sure. Those spare clothes still in your bag?" Joel asked and I nodded. 

"Won't be clean clean, but at least the ones we're wearing can be cleaner. But it will eventually get too cold to do that. But hopefully we'll make it Wyoming before that." Joel said. 

I nodded. 

"I don't know about y'all, but I suggest we find one of those creeks before we stop for the night. I'd like a chance to get the dirt and sweat off me." I said. 

"I agree." Ellie finally chimed in. 

“Alright. I’ll scout one out where we can stop for the night as well. But we’ll have to take shifts. No one wants to be caught by others out here alone and… you know…” Joel trailed off. 

“Okay, well, if Ellie is comfortable with it, I can keep an eye out while she rinses off, and you can set up our camp for the night. Then she and I can switch, or you can come keep a look out for me, and then I can watch for you.” I suggested. 

I figured it would be best for me to be on the lookout for both of them, which would make things a hell of a lot less awkward for everyone. 

“I’m fine with that. Just as long as you two promise not to have sex while you two are being lookouts for one another.” Ellie said. 

I rolled my eyes in amusement as Joel shook his head. 

We finished up our food before getting ready to leave. I was grateful that this time, the walk wasn’t silent. 

“Since we’re gonna have to hunt from now on, will you show me how to use the rifle?” Ellie asked. 

“I’ll think about it. Why don’t we start with trappin’ first? It’ll help us conserve our ammo.” Joel said. 

I honestly hadn’t thought about that. All of our resources were severely limited now. Food, water, ammo, shelter. Everything was going to be in short supply. And winter was fast approaching. 

“Should we try to set a goal for each day on how far we want to get? No offense, but I don’t want to still be walking nine months pregnant.” I joked, though I was serious. 

“I was planning on taking it day by day. None of us were preparing for this, so we won’t be able to go nonstop for days on end. Figured we could try traveling for a day or two, then rest and continue on like that. It’ll hopefully keep us from getting burnt out.” Joel explained. 

“Not a bad idea.” I agreed. 

Eventually, the sun was beginning to set, so Joel took us deeper into some woods and found where the creek was. I was actually surprised at how clean it looked. After ensuring that the surrounding area was, in fact, clear of any people or Infected, Joel informed us that he’d go off a good ways to set up our camp for the night while we took our turns using the creek to rinse off. 

I let Ellie go first. I found her clothes in my bag and laid them on a rock for her for when she was finished. I let her take her time and didn’t rush her. I kept my eyes on the treeline, watching for any movement. 

“Want me to get an area set up to hang our old clothes to dry at camp?” She asked, walking up wearing the new clothes. 

We had also decided that rinsing our old clothes would be the best thing since we only had a few outfits each. They obviously wouldn’t be actually clean, but it would be better than just putting dirty clothes back on. 

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Do you want to wait until I rinse off, or do you want Joel to come keep watch for me?” I aksed. 

“Can Joel? I just need some time alone with my thoughts…” She said, rubbing the back of her neck and not making eye contact. 

“Of course. And Ellie,” She finally looked up at me, “If you want to talk about anything, and I seriously mean anything, I am here, okay? I can’t promise I can fix whatever is happening but I can definitely listen.” I said sincerely. 

“Thank you.” she said quietly and nodded before walking us to where Joel was. 

“You two done already?” He asked as we walked back. 

“No, she’s going to switch with you now so I can rinse off, then you can.” I said, giving him a look not to question it. 

“Okay. Well, let’s go then.” He said, dusting off his hands as he stood up from where he had been hunched over, laying out rocks to make a small fire. I noticed a dead rabbit next to him, meaning he miraculously managed to get us something decent to eat later.. 

“Everything okay?” He asked once we were a good distance away. 

“Yeah, she just wanted some time alone to think, and so I let her.” I explained, and Joel nodded. 

“You want to go first?” He asked once we got back to the creek. 

“Yes, please.” I said, making him sigh through his nose in amusement. 

Joel found himself a spot to sit against a tree while I dug out my clothes and laid them down before stripping out of the ones I had been wearing. As I took my bra off, I let out a sigh of relief. 

“You know, that’s the one thing I didn’t think to grab an extra of…” I said with a sigh. 

“I give it another month or so before that one doesn’t fit anymore.” Joel said from where he sat. 

“Eyes on the trees, bud, not on me.” I teased before walking down to the water. 

I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t freezing. It actually felt amazing. The water wasn’t moving fast at all, so I was able to walk out to the middle of the creek, where the water came up to about halfway up my breast. I began using my nails to scrub some of the dirt off my body when I heard a twig snap over by Joel. When I turned to look I was surprised to see him standing up, taking off his boots. 

Silently, I watched as he undid his shirt and took his jeans off. He set his old clothes on the bank by mine so they’d be closer for when it was time to rinse them. When he caught me staring, I raised a questioning eyebrow at him to which he just smirked as he waded into the water. 

“What?” 

“Joel, you're supposed to be keeping watch.” I said, shaking my head, though it was no secret that I wasn’t actually upset by any means.

“It'll be fine. Come're.” He said, grabbing my arm to gently pull me to him. 

A small laugh escaped my lips as I pulled up against him. 

“Hi.” I smiled up at him as he continued to hold me to him. 

“Hi.” He was smiling, too, at this point, a real, genuine smile that I hadn’t seen in a while. 

“So what, now, if someone sneaks up on us, we’ll both be caught off guard and naked?” I joked. 

“I don’t know. I think those would be more than enough to distract anyone.” He said, looking down at my breast. 

I playfully shoved him away. 

“I am supposed to be getting the grime off of me. I suggest you do the same.” I said, turning my back to him. 

He didn’t stay away from me for long. Without warning, he was grabbing my arm again to turn me to him, but this time, I was met by his lips on mine. A small gasp escaped my lips before I melted into it. My hands found their way up around his neck as his traveled down to my lower back. It was as if we couldn’t get close enough to each other. 

As we continued to makeout, his hands slipped lower, passed my ass, and down to the back of my thighs. He pulled one up to his hip, and I knew what he was trying to do. So, I used my other foot that was still down to gently push off the bottom of the creek enough for me to jump and wrap both of my legs around his waist. His kisses traveled away from my lips and down to my neck, which I gladly gave him access to. 

“Shit, Joel, please just fuck me.” I said as he worked on leaving a mark on my collarbone. 

“Way ahead of you, sweet girl.” He said before thrusting up into me. 

I had to actually bite down on my lower lip to keep from moaning out loud. Joel gave me a second to adjust to the feeling of him inside of me. But once he felt my body relax against him, he didn’t hold back. I buried my face into the junction of his neck and shoulder as he thrust up into me relentlessly. I could hear him cursing and saying my name in a breathy voice. I hadn’t even noticed one of his hands gripped my left thigh a little tighter as his other one came down between our bodies and found its way to my clit. 

Admittedly, I am a little ashamed of how sensitive it was. It had been a while since me and him had had sex, and I definitely hadn’t had time to myself recently. However, it seemed like to him no time had passed at all because he knew just how to make me come undone. 

“Fuck, Joel, m’close.” I said. 

“Me too…” “Inside.” Was all I was able to request as my walls tightened around his cock. 

He wasn’t far behind me either as I felt him release. He continued to hold me, not pulling out just yet as we both caught our breaths. Even after he slipped out of me and lowered me down to stand in the water, he continued to hold me against him. I looked up at him to find him already looking down at me. 

“I love you, you know that, right?” He asked, just barely above a whisper. 

“I know. I love you too, Joel.” I whispered back before leaning up to kiss him softly. 

After a few more minutes of just holding onto one another, we eventually knew we’d have to rinse our old clothes and get dressed in the fresh ones. I decided to just leave my bra off for the night to give myself a break. We gathered up everything and began walking back to camp, hand in hand. Once again, we both had smiles on our faces. 

When we got back, I hung both of our wet clothes on the branch Ellie had set up as our makeshift drying rack. Joel went over to start skinning and preparing the rabbit to be cooked. As I was hanging the last of the clothes, Ellie came up to me. 

“You two disgust me.” She said. 

I knew there was no way she heard us, so how’d she know? 

“What are you talking about?” I asked, playing dumb. 

“Look, I may not understand men, but I am pretty sure there’s only one thing that can get a man as grumpy as him to get him sliming like that.” She said, nodding over to where Joel was sitting, working with a smile still on his face.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Ellie. Now, help me with the water canteens.” I said, walking over to grab them. 

Ellie caught my wrist, making me stop short. 

“What’s that? Hm?” She questioned, pointing to where the collar of the flannel I put on didn’t quite cover the mark Joel had left there. 

I could feel my cheeks heating up, “Damnit, Joel!” I said, loud enough for him to hear and look up. 

“Y’all are nasty.” Ellie said in disgust, but I could tell she was trying not to laugh along with us. 

“You’ll understand when you’re older.” I teased. 

She shook her head, “Like hell I will.” She shot back, “Let’s just go fill up the water.” 

We both grabbed the canteens and walked back down to the creek. 

“Wait… I don’t want to drink from the sex creek. That’s gross.” She said, scrunching up her nose at the thought of it. 

“Don’t worry, the water is constantly moving. Besides, we were downstream.” I teased know that she definitely didn’t want to know the details. 

“I mean, if it puts him in a better mood for a while… just keep it far, far, away from me.” She teased back. 

We finished getting the water and headed back to where Joel had finished skinning the rabbit and was getting ready to cook it. I was pleasantly surprised at the taste. It was definitely far better than the shit we used to get given in the QZ. 

“I say tomorrow let's turn more North, get up into Nebraska, then start West again.” Joel said, causing Ellie and I to nod. 

I let out a yawn. 

“I don’t know about you two, but I am beat.” I said, stretching slightly. 

“I bet you are.” Ellie teased, causing me to roll my eyes. 

“Whatever.” I shook my head and stood up, “I can take a watch shift later if one of you wants to take one now.” 

“I’m not too tired yet, so I am going to stay up for a bit.” Ellie said, and I only nodded at her decision. 

“Me too. Go get some rest.” Joel said. 

I bid them both a goodnight before walking off to find somewhere half-decent to sleep. 

Ellie’s PoV 

Once I was sure Yn was out of earshot, I turned to Joel. 

“I want to talk about what happens after we find your brother in Wyoming.” I said seriously. 

sorry this one was a bit shorter... also this is your warning that I am devating from the events in the show...

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[wanderersbell]

If requests are still open, how about jealous wanderer? over something not that serious, and it gets him teased by the reader 🤔 or something like that. honestly though I would love anything youd make, you're amazing at writing soft fluff of him, so please take it less as a request and more an idea (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

when he gets jealous

wanderer x gn!reader

genre: fluff, comfort

warnings: none

word count: 1335

a/n: I HAD SO MUCH FUN WITH THIS ONE he is so gjnsghjsk he deserves to be spoiled ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) tysm for the request, enjoy!

hoooo boy, this guy will get jealous over literally anything sometimes. 

he can’t help it, he feels insecure when your attention is on someone else. the voice in the back of his mind immediately starts telling him that you’ll forget about him in favor of whoever you’re interacting with now. 

the rational part of him knows it’s not true. he knows you shouldn’t be put in a position where you can’t even talk to other people without him getting upset, that it isn’t fair to you, so he doesn’t his best to keep it to himself. 

he knows he’s unreasonable about it most of the time and keeps his mouth shut and just huffs for a bit until you come back to him, but you can always tell he’s jealous anyways. 

will sometimes even get jealous over animals or inanimate objects. he has hidden things from you on multiple occasions just because you would become so distracted by it that you wouldn’t hear what he said and it bothered him. 

poor baby wants attention so bad, but cannot for the life of him ask for it normally. pls help him. 

“awwww,” you coo quietly from where you’re crouched in the grass a few feet away. a small orange cat lays at your feet, rolling around happily and eating up the belly scratches you’re giving it. if the cat could smile he’s sure it would be, if the blissful squint of its eyes wasn’t telling enough. 

this cat comes around quite often - it’s a stray from somewhere in sumeru city, but ventures off to vimara village on occasion and waits at the docks for the locals to give it fish. it’s spoiled and mischievous and often greets the two of you by swatting at the tassels on the wanderer’s hat, knocking them around like toys and nearly tugging it off in the process. 

you are undeniably fond of this despicable creature and always stop to shower it with pets and talk to it like it’s a human baby. the cat doesn’t understand a word coming out of your mouth, but soaks it up your attention nonetheless. 

the wanderer watches with a growing frown as you pick the orange tabby up from the ground and into your arms, adjusting it so that it won’t slip before burying your face into its fur and rocking back and forth slowly. the cat is absolutely loving all of this, purring at a clearly audible volume and letting itself be held tightly by you. 

he clicks his tongue and turns away from you at the sight, refusing to watch the ridiculous show. he’s standing right here, yet he may as well not even exist with how absorbed you are with the pathetic creature in your arms. what can that animal possibly give you in return that makes any of this worth your time?

he can hear the way you’re leaving small kisses all over its head and grits his teeth against the pit swirling in his stomach. how ridiculous.

when you eventually put the cat down and move to stand in front of him, he refuses to meet your eye, pretending to be fixated on the kids that are chasing each other through the village nearby. 

“you ready to go?” you ask him casually while adjusting the bag of supplies on your back. “we should get back before it gets dark.”

“sure.” the wanderer responds dryly, already walking forward so that you have to skip to catch up with him. 

you don’t say anything about his pouting until you’re a good distance away from the village, and he presses his lips together tightly the second you turn your body towards him and tilt your head forward to get a better look at his face while you walk. 

“please don’t tell me you’re jealous of that cat.” you get straight to the point and the wanderer almost trips over his own feet as soon as the words leave your mouth. 

“of course i’m not,” he snaps, arms crossed over his chest. “what do i have to be jealous about?” he can see the teasing smile you give him out of the corner of his eyes and it only makes him frown harder. 

“whatever you say,” you clearly don’t believe him and your tone makes it very obvious that this won’t be the end of your teasing, but you leave him alone the rest of the walk back to your place. the sun hangs high as the afternoon approaches, partially hidden by the clouds passing underneath and warms and cools his skin every time the light shines through just to be covered up again. 

when you swing open the door step inside, the wanderer makes a beeline goes to sit down at the small table in the kitchen while you drop your bag on the counter and start sorting through the things you returned with.  you hum quietly to yourself as you do, and after watching you for a few minutes, his eyes slip shut in the comfortable silence as he rests his cheek against his hand. 

the sound of your footsteps approaching is the only warning he gets before the next thing he knows, he feels your warm hands cradle his face while you pull his head into your chest and wrap your arms around his shoulders so that he can’t move. he tenses up immediately, his eyes flying open and his hands bracing against the edge of the table like he’s about to pull away and get to his feet, but he stays put. 

he could easily detangle himself from your embrace, but he remains frozen to the spot even as alarms start blaring in his head. 

“is this okay?” you ask softly from above him. he can hear the way your voice resonates through your chest and unconsciously relaxes a bit in your arms, your heartbeat a comforting rhythm against his ear. 

not trusting his voice, he nods and your fingers start slowly combing through his bangs. you start to pull away after a few moments and he begins to panic, almost grabs onto your shirt to keep you in place, but pauses when you crouch down so that your face is level with his. he isn’t expecting the soft press if your lips against his forehead and feels blood rush to his face at the action, half of him internally begging you to do it again while the other half urges him to flinch away. 

you move down a bit to press another against his left cheek, then his right, then on the tip of his nose, and everywhere else on his face except for his lips. the peppering of kisses are so warm and gentle that all he can do is melt into the touch, hands coming up to grab your arms to hold himself steady as your lips delicately brush over his closed eyelids. 

when you pull away to look at him he’s pouting again, and you can’t help but poke fun, just a bit. 

“are you satisfied now?” his cheeks burn brighter at the question but he refuses to answer and frowns, instead opting to snake a hand behind your head and pull you in until your lips finally meet his. 

the kiss is soft and sweet but slightly desperate at the same time, like the wanderer wants to devour you through it, like he can’t get enough. the way you card your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck sends a shiver through his body and he pulls you impossibly closer at the action, lips trembling slightly against yours. 

when you pull away with one last chaste kiss and ruffle his hair affectionately before going back to the supplies on the counter, the wanderer can’t help but feel a bit proud of himself. all of this, just because he acted envious over a cat. 

he’ll always find a way to get your attention one way or another. 

[ali3nboyfriend]

pet owners in general are entitled is the thing. like the culture at large at least in america feels very entitled not only to own animals but to own them in whatever way manner or form they please, doing with them whatever they want, and you're seen as infringing on their rights and the animal's rights if you tell them otherwise. dog and cat owners can be especially egregious and loud about it because they're such ubiquitous pets that no one thinks they need to research ownership of them. "of course i know how to take care of a cat, it's a cat."

(exotics and small animals don't fare much better, but the communities around them do try and put an emphasis on research and care. you still get people who just buy a single rat and keep it in a tank because they decided they wanted one and it was $5 at the pet store, but if you go into the actual rat owner communities they're way more front-facingly researched than like... most cat owner communities. and some dog owner communities.)

(second sidebar, there's a difference between dog owner communities and dog Handler communities and it all boils down to how front-facingly researched the people in them are as well.)

why are there so many dog owners that think they can bring their dog everywhere? they don't research their animal, and they think they can treat it like a toddler, because they've anthropomorphized it. why are there so many cat owners that let their cats roam outside freely? because they didn't research their animals, it's what their family always did, and they've also anthropomorphized them and have decided it's cruel to deny them things even if it's for their health and safety.

like it's as simple as that. people think they're entitled to an animal, and they don't put the work into knowing them because of it. they're gonna treat them like a little person, instead of an animal, and that gets their emotions involved in every decision they make, and when their emotions are involved they're never gonna think rationally about their pet care.

there's no elegant solution to any of this. i just wish we could have a cultural shift, sooner rather than later, where we began to appreciate animals as animals, and were encouraged to recognize when caring for one wouldn't suit our lifestyle, and were encouraged to continuously put effort into updating our knowledgebase on the animals we own.

[kuroneko1815]

The maze scene but make it silly and with innuendos

Because I always make fun of Callisto being the one to instigate the silly, I want Penelope to do it this time. This came about after re-reading that scene when they first meet and I thought… what could she say differently that was just so silly. With help from @eloise175, also… we really shouldn’t be left alone together.

Callisto holding a sword to Penelope’s throat looking menacing and mocking: Why do you love me? Go on, tell me why you fell in love with me?

Penelope: Because you’re shiny!

Callisto freezes in shock: Shiny? (He’s been called many things, most of them weren’t good but never shiny!)

Penelope thinking back to her reputation: I like shiny things and your hair looks like spun gold and your eyes look like rubies.

Callisto: ??? (Just stares at her, sword steady and level as he tries to process what happened.)

Penelope internally: Oh thank god, I can escape now. (Tries to back away subtly but is foiled.)

Callisto: What else?

Penelope thinks back to all the stereotypical western teenagers and in Korea from her world and time, all those things she studied to fit in with her new classmates at university: You’re hot.

Callisto: I’m what?

Penelope: You have a handsome face and probably a fine body under those clothes from all the training you do. It makes me drool just thinking about it and I want jump you. (Penelope in her mind: maybe I should just die, it would be better if he killed me now.)

Callisto: … (Callisto.exe has crashed; please reboot)

Callisto tries to save face: It seems more like you’re in lust with me, rather than in love.

Penelope: Is there a difference right now? I haven’t talked to you, and I’ve only seen you in passing. Love and lust are the same right now.

Penelope: Also, your voice is fine and smooth like butter.

Callisto: I don’t understand?

Penelope: It means I like your voice, it’s nice and seductive. (Penelope eyes possible exists and just keeps saying things without thinking them through.)

Penelope: You’re such a babygirl

Callisto: Did you just call me a babygirl? (Now he does feel some indignation)

Penelope: Yes I did, you know, you’re so good looking I just wanna take care of you. You’re so scrunkly.

Callisto: What does that even mean? I think you’re just making up words.

Penelope: Scrunkly, an animal or creature that’s weird or unorthodox but still so cute.

Callisto: Did you just… just call me an animal?

Penelope: Well, if you’re an animal, I think mating season has come. (Penelope is dead, very dead. She can feel her soul leaving her body with each word she says and yet she can’t stop. Still, she’s resorted to dropping innuendos in hopes that he’d be so weirded out that he’d walk away without killing her.)

Callisto is shook. He knows the adopted daughter of Eckhart was crazy but not this crazy or wanton… and yet… it was appealing and exciting.

Penelope gestures to his pants: Well, I don’t much care for the sword at my neck, but you can definitely pierce me with the one down there any time. Think of me like something to conquer. (Abort, abort, abort. She thinks desperately. Shut up.)

Despite her wishes, her mouth keeps moving, and not towards rationality, it just prolongs her torture. Death by beheading wasn’t so bad, at least she’d stop talking.

Penelope: If someone asked me what I wanted for dinner, it’s you. I’m so hungry, I want a taste.

Callisto eyes her in shock. These were not words that should be coming out of a Lady’s mouth, he didn’t think he’d ever heard phrases come out of anyone’s mouth before. It was bawdy without actually being too vulgar. He wants to be offended, he really does, but…

Penelope: Please? I’m thirsty, can I have a sip? Just a sip, please? I promise I don’t bite… much. (Penelope internally: Can I turn on that damned game system now? Please?)

Penelope: If we got stuck in a closet, one of us would be walking out pregnant, and it wouldn’t be me.

Eventually, Callisto lets her go, too surprised and shook to actually process everything, especially the last part because that wasn’t possible at all, unless she was a powerful mage. And Penelope leaves no worse for wear, except her dignity, that died a traitor’s death.

-

-

BONUS: The Cave Scene: Or Callisto gives his rebuttals because you can damn well know that he’s not letting this go and it’ll live rent free in his mind. And she’s avoided him when he tried to press her for more coherent answers, had even neglected to reply to him.

Penelope waking up in the cave: GAHH!!! Why are you naked? (Covers her eyes)

Callisto: Why are you covering you’re eyes? You wanted to see what was under my clothes anyway, and I hope it doesn’t disappoint. You certainly didn't.

Penelope: You… you shameless pervert.

Callisto: Oh? I'm the pervert now? What happened to the audacious woman who kept saying such filthy things to me to seduce me?

Penelope stares at him with a look of disbelief.

Callisto: Oh? How could you be so cold to me? Aren’t I scrunkly? Aren’t I your babygirl?

Penelope: … I'm going back to sleep.

Penelope can't actually sleep and keeps having flashbacks to it, Callisto hugs her, and tells her the story. And the conversation proceeds the same. Except instead of asking her what she liked about him…

Callisto: So, is your assessment correct, Princess?

Penelope: What?

Callisto: Is my body as 'fine' as you thought? Am I really that hot?

Penelope without thinking: Yes (Realizes what she said and blushes and buries her face into his chest and then almost dies of embarrassment when she realizes what she just did)

Callisto: It certainly seems like it based on how you're reacting.

Penelope: …

Callisto: My sword is ready for the piercing and the conquests.

Penelope bites her lips unable to say anything because he’s responding to everything she’s saying. She realized he’s pulled the ultimate reverse uno on her, and weeks after the fact too.

Callisto: Are you hungry? We can have a small snack if you want. But why stop at a sip and a taste? Let’s make this into a full meal!

Penelope: …

Callisto: Perhaps my voice alone can get you ready, we’d need to mop up after we’ve spilled our drinks.

Penelope admits to herself that he does have an amazing voice. But she’s still refusing the temptation. She wants to live thank you very much.

Callisto: We’re both still overdressed it seems. We really need to read the invitations carefully. This cave has a zero clothing policy.

Penelope tries to shut him up, when he stops her from slapping him, she kisses him which was the wrong move, or maybe it was the right one? Because it eventually devolved.

Callisto when they finally stopped: Respectfully, Emperor Claudius himself couldn’t pull me out of you. (Callisto thinks of his famous ancestor, an accomplished general, who had a story about a sword in a stone who won the throne over his half brother.)

In the aftermath, Penelope would wake up in a tangle of limbs, naked, and very well ‘conquered’ by the Crown Prince. She also gets to live, survives the game and all. And… exactly nine months after that night, a little dragon like girl was born to them. They named her Judith.

But Callisto, the new Emperor had one last thing to say to his wife as they hold their new born later not even minutes after she’s handed to them: Well, it wasn’t exactly locked in a closet, but I wasn’t the one who walked out of there pregnant.

Penelope smiles sweetly at him, motions for him to come closer so she can kiss him. He leans forward eagerly, closes his eyes. Penelope taking advantage of it, shifts Judith in one hand and slaps him hard.

[writingjourney]

how it feels | cardinal copia x reader

summary: You've been struggling with your body image lately, Copia notices and tries to comfort you.

content: 2k words, emotional hurt/comfort, tw for body image issues, reader is gender neutral with no physical descriptions, established loving relationship, Copia is an absolute sweetheart angel baby.

This is absolutely self-indulgent, but I kept it very vague so that it’s as relatable as it can be. It’s more on the emotional side for sure but (I hope) still ends with a positive message. Please don't read this if you’re acutely triggered by negative self talk.

Ao3 link – Masterlist

It happens by chance.

You have been avoiding the big, ornate mirror in your room for a few days now, pretending to wear blinkers. If you weren’t sharing a bedroom with Copia, you might have covered it with a sheet. But this morning, as your love gets ready for work, humming to himself in the bathroom, you can’t find your habit. Panicked that you can’t immediately cover yourself, you start a frantic search and your gaze gets caught by the reflection of your hectic movements. Your eyes meet your full-length mirror image, not the small one you’re used to seeing in the bathroom, and it’s like looking at a stranger. For a second you’re in shock, wondering who this body you feel so unfamiliar with belongs to. But then you realise that it’s yours. Instead of walking away, your eyes focus on every single part of it and the vile thoughts that enter your brain meet you like old friends.

You know the image in your head, the view in the mirror and your real body are three separate things. You know that what you’re seeing is distorted by the pain and self-loathing you’ve been harbouring for the past week. And yet no rational thought fully settles in. They pass, they don’t even puncture the disgust you feel.

You startle when you feel two strong arm wrap around your midsection, when the smell of freshly-applied cologne hits your nose. Copia pulls you into his chest and it takes you every ounce of restraint not to flinch back, not to fight your way out of his arms and hide like a wounded animal.

“Hmm, you look beautiful today, amore,” he whispers, then stamps a wet kiss to your cheek. “You always do.”

The disconnect between his reaction and your own perception is enough to make you frown. Copia’s eyes widen, like he’s afraid he said something wrong. He stares at you in the mirror and he must see the tears that colour your eyes red.

“Car-"

You slip out of his grasp, in search for the habit. It sits on a chair next to the bed, waiting for you, your saving grace. But before you can pull it over your head, Copia takes your arm, gently holds it in his strong grasp.

“I need to get ready.”

“Something is wrong, amore,” he states. “You are upset.”

“I need to get dressed, Copia.”

He shakes his head vehemently, nearly dropping his red biretta. “Is it about last night? You said you were tired, too.”

“I know. I was.”

You truly were. But if you’re being honest, exhaustion was not the reason you were glad that he didn’t initiate anything last night. There is no way you would be able to let go right now, to allow yourself any pleasure.

 “I know, I have been busy lately, we did not have much time for… for intimacy.” His thumb rubs a slow circle over your wrist. “But that does not mean I desire you any less. Ti amo, ti desidero, con tutto il cuore. Always.”

His words caress the wounds on your soul. But even so they can’t heal them, not after you ripped them open for days. “I know.” You try to force out a smile. “It’s okay, really. You did nothing wrong.”

“Che cos’è? You are almost crying, amore. I don’t believe it. You don’t even say you love me back.”

You desperately want to, you wish you could find words for him. But instead you vaguely shrug, not sure what to tell him for fear of lying, of abusing his trust. You stare at his hand on your arm. Even though his grip is loose now the black leather of his gloves makes it look almost violent. As if he has the same thought he moves his hand down in favour of linking your fingers together. You wish he would just let it go, that his touch wouldn’t make it all worse, even with the leather as a barrier. How is he not repulsed, how would he willingly be close to you?

“Maybe I am a little upset,” you admit, finally.

“With me?”

His soft voice breaks your heart. You look up at him and see the insecurities plainly written on his face. Of course he assumes that he is the reason. Even now, after being together for so long, he is still so scared of messing up.

You squeeze his hand. “No, not with you. Never with you. I do love you back, so much.”

His shoulders visibly relax and he pulls his brows up into a pleading look. “Can I hug you?”

Despite feeling so ashamed, so miserably vulnerable, you nod. You cannot refuse him, no matter how scared you are of what his touch will do to you. So you wrap your arms around his neck, feel him sink into you. The fabric of his cassock is stiff, hiding the shape of his body and making you feel even more naked. His hands rest on your bare skin, the leather warm as his fingers spread over the small of your back. You feel his warm cheek on yours, the only true skin contact, his sideburns tickling when he nuzzles your neck with a deep sigh.

“Tell me why you are so sad, amore,” he whispers. “Help me understand.”

You know you would never have told him if you’d had to look at his face. But here, hidden in his embrace, your senses busy taking in his scent, his warmth, you feel infinitely safer. Completely filled with the affection you don’t feel like you deserve, you whisper your question. “Copia, do you think I’ve changed?”

He lets go just enough to look at you. “Changed how?”

You shrug, averting your gaze as you fiddle with the buttons just below his neck. “Changed… physically?”

“Your body?”

“Mhm.”

He frowns and you regret the question. This must seem so trivial to him, so pointless. He may not be able to see any changes, he may not even have payed attention, so swamped with work and more important things to worry about.

“I don’t think so,” he finally says. “Did I miss something? You did not get a haircut? New clothes?”

“No. No, that’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean, amore?”

You fight back tears. Satanas, you feel pathetic, so embarrassed by the situation. How is he still asking? How is he not giving up and telling you to get a grip, that he needs to go to work? You cannot help but feel a bit crushed, undeserving of this love that he has for you, of his patience, all the comfort he offers. You wish you could love yourself like he loves you, be gentle and kind with your body.

Copia takes your chin between his fingers and gently tilts your head up. 

“You know I think you are bellissimo?” he asks. “That you are a gift, not only for my eyes but for my soul?”

You close your eyes, trying to let his words sink in. “Yes. Yes, I know.”

He clicks his tongue. “No, you forgot. I made you forget because I was so busy. I did not love you enough.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him that it’s not a lack of compliments or displays of affection, not when he seems so happy to have found a solution. How could you explain that you’re just messed up sometimes? Maybe it is unfair to let him try, to exploit his affections. You can’t let him think he’s lacking in any way.

“You did, you alway love me enough. You–“

“No, it is alright.” Copia shakes his head. “I will make it better, amore.”

His soft, plump lips press against yours. Before you can reciprocate, he moves them to your jaw, to your neck, featherlight touches that make you shiver. For as long as his body covers yours, they feel wonderful, but then he lets you go and you’re exposed again. Copia sinks down before you and his lips dance all over your chest, leaving a trail of black lipstick.

“So beautiful,” he whispers against your sternum. “Sono tanto fortunato.”

His words, as genuine as they may be, ring hollow. Your mind is telling you that he’s lying. That he can’t possibly mean any of it. He’s saying it because he has to, because he wants to cheer you up, because he is kind and generous like that.

“Tesorino, sei tutto per me. More than I could ever deserve.”

His hands trail down your sides as he kisses your belly, moving down to your navel. That’s when you tense up completely. You can’t take it, it’s like he’s trying to extinguish a flame by adding more fuel. His words, his kisses, his obvious display of his undying devotion, they are too heavy.

“Stop,” you say, barely able to breathe out the words. “Please.”

He looks up at you in utter confusion, chin resting against your stomach. “Amore?”

“I’m sorry,” you blubber out. “I’m so sorry, I don’t think I can do this right now.”

“Nonono.” He moves his hands up and down the backs of your thighs. “I am just trying to show you how beautiful you are. How much I adore you. We don’t have to do anything.”

“That’s not it. Its’ just…” You feel the first full tear rolling down your cheek. “I don’t think I can believe any compliments right now. They are wasted on me. You are wasted on me.”

You can practically see his heart break at your words and you cry silently – for yourself and for him. 

“What are you saying, tesoro?”

You know the question is rhetorical. He perfectly understands. “You deserve so much better, my love.”

He stands up and you watch as he takes off his gloves. With his now bare hands, he cradles your face, wipes the tears away. He’s too slow to catch them all and you wish he would not have to see you cry, he would not see you puffy and pathetic. But you are too weak to move, too weak to fight him when your whole body and your very soul are so desperate, so hungry for his love.

“Can you feel this?” he asks. “How my hands feel on you?”

You nod and he strokes your cheeks. He is so gentle, his fingertips massaging your skin like he’s trying to rub the sadness out of you.

“When I touch you, do you think about how it looks or how it feels?”

“How it feels.”

He brings his face closer, waits for you to flinch, to pull back. But you don’t. So he kisses you, firmly, tenderly, and beneath the salty tears you can taste his love for you.

Ever so patient, he doesn’t pull away. His lips linger, barely grazing yours, as he whispers against your mouth. “And when I kiss you, what do you think about, amore?”

“How good it feels.”

Copia smiles, a pained but beautifully heartbreaking smile. “What about when we make love? What do you think about then?”

“I think about how much I love you, how good you make me feel.”

“Me too. It’s all I think about when we’re together. But it is more of a feeling than a thought. You agree?”

Again, you nod and he nuzzles your nose, keeps his hands on your head. He pushes them into your hair, angles your head up just slightly so that he can kiss the tears from your cheeks. For the first time today you don’t want to leave your body, you want to stay exactly where you are.

“If you cannot believe my words, then maybe you can accept my affection? My love?” he asks. “Can you accept that it is not tied to your body but to all of you, even the things you cannot love about yourself?”

You take a shuddering breath. “I don’t know, Copia.”

“Let us try, amore. Let us try every day to love each other the best we can, sì? To focus on how good it feels?”

You hum in agreement and he hugs you again, pulls you so close that you barely even feel your body anymore, just him and what he does to you. Maybe you can accept his love, even if you are not always capable of understanding it. And maybe by loving him with all your heart you can find a way to extend that love to yourself as well. One day.

Thank you for reading! I hope you're feeling okay and that this story helped a little bit – and if not, my inbox is always open. Take care now, I love you, I like you. Get sleep, get well etc etc ♡

[captainjacklyn]

Hey, yo, you probably saw me on one of your posts. I was wondering if you could do the arcana twilight characters reacting to reader training Precious to destroy sisuris's balls l, I'm so sorry for this post, but I had to. You could skip if you want to. Also, sorry for misspelling sisuris name.

HAHAHAHAGHDJWEH- no worries my friend, there is absolutely no harm done on your part, I'm glad you enjoy that crack shit post and I hope you enjoy reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it.

character(s) : spica, alpheratz, arcturus, pollux, vega

warning(s) : someone's balls being obliterated, a feral ferret and a vengeful summoner that just wants to see blood.

Spica

Speechless and just straight up lost, man is just looking at us for a good minute before continuing to walk down the aisle like nothing happened.

for reference his face looked like this :

He says nothing, he's just confused and tells himself that he needs coffee thinking he's hallucinating due to all the work he has to do.

don't even bother explaining, Spica will pass out and Precious is going to take that opportunity to destroy.

"Wrong target Precious I'm not letting you hurt rapunzel."

"AHDJEREJHR !"

Alpheratz

Hype man right here, he's literally helping you coach that killing machine to end Sirius.

Precious actually stops trying to rip his wig off and is now accepting him as a friend, sort of.

I love this trio ! A batshit crazy animal, their batshit insane owner and the owner's boyfriend who hates the same person they hate.

Once precious is released into the city to found that sexy gun man, it's over for him.

It crawls it's way through the streets, hissing at anything in it's way until it finds the legs of the enemy..and CRUNCH GOES THE BALLS OF THE ASSHOLE-

*screams in agony*

Arcturus

[Name] I don't think you have to- "HAJSKFBEFUEKR-"

Precious held on to his leg for a week, it didn't wanna let go for even a minute. Had to constantly keep this ginger man in a hospital because the moment he got out he would bleed extensively.

Once it got off of him, you just continued to train your unhinged creature.

Precious is really going balls out for the game I'll tell ya that, we're not just speaking about the nutcracker here we're talking about the sacrifice of future generations as well.

This poor dude is just standing on the sidelines like : you don't have to do this but I still support you because that's really all I can do...

Pollux

Oh he means business.

We got another coach right here- bro is going to ANNIHILATE sirius and whatever is left.

Although he keeps wincing whenever it actually happens, I mean they're both guys he knows just how painful it can get.

It's really terrifying to be honest just witnessing something that violent.

I mean who would expect this :

to act like THIS :

That's pollux trying to hold it, Precious is completely calm and rational with it's beloved owner.

Vega

._.

wut ?

like Spica, he will stand there, but not like Spica, he will remain standing there for a very long time.

Even Precious stops bitting the plastic toy that now looks like it's been shredded, even you stop encouraging your cute psychopath of a beast.

why are you giving it more attention ? HIIIIIISSSSSSSS-

He doesn't give a shit, we all know just how much of a simp he gets when it comes to you.

I love how I skipped the part where Precious tried to lunge at him and remove his eyeballs from his eye sockets.

You luckily managed to avoid that, but now you got an animal and a touch-starved white boy clinging onto you for dear life.

Vega I need to proceed with my ferret's training so could you please ? no. ...You're lucky you're just as adorable as my electric saw. BFUKETGEHTK$#$ PRECIOUS STOP SWEARING-

Have a good day I hope you liked it.

[wordsandrobots]

You know, watching play-throughs of the Iron-Blooded Orphans DLC for Super Robot Wars, I am struck by how slightly *off* the characterisation is. I suspect that's a natural consequence something like this, throwing so many characters into the mix that you can't help render them down a bit (and then there's translation on top of that), but it feels very weird to have Shino saying:

Shino: When you're as smart and skilled as me, you can get used to anything. Akihiro: "Smart and skilled", my ass. First thing you did was try to steal some food, and I had to save you from an angry mob. Shino: Shush, you! That was just, uh...a bit of a blooper. Happens to the best of us.

This reads to me more like something written for Eugene (in fact, this whole exchange feels like something you'd see between Eugene and *Shino*, not Shino and Akihiro). It's one of those quirks that I have perhaps spent too long dwelling on, but in the anime, Shino's boasting is almost exclusively about Tekkadan as a group and rarely if ever about himself. If anything, he tends to own being a goof more readily, laughing off his own missteps (with a couple of amusing exceptions) despite an obvious ego regarding his fighting skills and a preoccupation with not appearing 'lame'.

(I do think Shino would be 100% down for stealing food if necessary, although given his in-canon attention to stocking his mobile suit with ration bars, it's just a generally weird situation to gesture at.)

That said, the flirting with Gundam Victory's all-women mobile suit squad feels on-point. Possibly that's just because this is the only official-ish example we have of what Shino is *actually* like when he's flirting. It all happens off-screen otherwise, so it's fun to see someone attempt to portray the kind of crashing and burning that got Lafter calling him a 'pierced idiot'.

Shino: ...So what I'm saying is, we should all go downtown and have some fun! Kite: Only if it's your treat. Shino: Yeah, sure, it's all on me! But ALL of you Shrikes gotta come! Come on? Pretty please? Peggy: You seriously can't take a hint, can you? Helen: I mean, he definitely can't, but... c'mon, free drinks! Franny: Let's just make this clear: you're just a walking wallet to us. Shino: Y'know what? I'm okay with that. Shino: Love is a journey, and it's gotta start somewhere. Ain't that right, Junko? Junko: Hah! You've got guts, I'll give you that. Keep it up, Shino. Shino: Yeah, baby! I can hear the door to your heart unlocking! Miliera: He's actually going after Junko? He's either very brave, or very, very dumb. Mahalia: He'll have to go through all of us before he gets anywhere near her. Shino: ALL of you? Whoa, mama! Cony: Wow, he really can't take a hint. It's kind of impressive, really. Juca: Honestly? I don't mind it. It means he's fitting in well with the team.

(I still haven't seen Victory but I know what happens to these ladies, so there is a layer at which this is . . . a choice in terms of character match-ups. Seems like that's half the fun of these games, though.)

But yeah. Given that this feeling of it not being quite on the money with characterisation extends to what I've seen of both Lelouch and Char too, I do think it's kind of inevitable with what this thing is -- broad-strokes and all that. The only bit that genuinely annoyed me was the site of Biscuit's death being changed; they have Orga reacting as if Biscuit was killed at Edmonton and saying he never expected to be back there, which is really bad example of cludging a whole heap of different stuff together for the sake of a condensed emotional beat.

Still, I can't deny it's highly amusing to have McGillis rocking up to get advice from his peers in scheming bastardry while Orga is sitting in the corner wondering why this is his life now. And Akihiro and Shino engaging in one-up-manship with the Ultramen is fun (even if I do not get along with that anime AT ALL).

[devisopod]

Levity Creek!

Chapter 3

I keep forgetting to post these as I work on little pieces.

If you ask me, we were lucky this place even had a bathroom. I was met by the sight of a small group of guys, who were all hanging on the counter as they chatted with one another. Their laughter practically shook the place, only serving to make me all the more insistent on getting in and getting out. Thankfully enough, they ignored us.

The bathroom was a mess, of course. Paper towels scattered on the floor, puddles of water in unsuspecting places, the works. While I'm not entirely sure, I think I saw a rat scramble for cover when the automatic light switched on. It was clear enough that no one was actually doing their job around here. Then again, it didn't appear like they were doing much business in the first place.

Before I even let Tate into the stall, I must have wiped off the toilet seat three times.

"You've used a toilet, right?" I ask awkwardly. "You don't need my help or nothin'?"

Tate simply shakes his head.

"... No you ain't used a toilet, or no you don't need my help?"

He doesn't even bother answering me, but I can't say I expected anything more than a stiff reply on his part. No, instead, he hobbles into the stall and closes the door behind him, but he doesn't seem to be able to reach the latch. After listening to him struggle to reach it for a couple of seconds, I just opt to hold it closed for him, which he must have decided was good enough.

I waited in silence for a good two or three minutes before he finally finished. I lifted him up to the sink so he could wash his hands and then let him grab on again as I lead him out the door. Oh, but was I ever the sucker. In my peripheral, I could see him eyeing the rack with snacks on it. Neither of us had eaten anything in the past few hours, so I had no doubt he was hungry.

Hell, I was hungry.

"Pick some stuff out for the road," I offer, nodding toward the shelf.

This was probably the most child-like I'd seen him yet. As if given permission to do the most exciting thing on the planet, his body language lights up and he's checking out his options with no lack of enthusiasm. Every so often, he stops and compares two items, obviously thinking it through somewhat rationally. Or, at least, as rationally as a kid his age can manage.

His nose scrunches and twitches when he thinks — just like Fiddleford.

It's sweet to watch. Once he had his selection in his arms, which ends up being about four things in total, he looks up at me for approval.

Naturally, I'm not about to tell him no. I just nod and scoop it all up to add to the couple of snacks I'd picked out. I even compliment his choice of candy bar as we make our way to the counter. He seems pleased with that because he finally smiles.

The gaggle of men at the counter don't disperse to my dismay. Instead, they go off on a side tangent when the cashier reluctantly returns to doing his job. He doesn't even truly acknowledge me until he's punched half of my items into the register.

"You're a long way out," the man notes, his gaze moving to the window briefly. "I saw your tag. Where you headed to?"

"Gravity Falls," I answer idly, digging through my wallet.

At that, he straightens his back and looks down at me a little more seriously. The way he seems to be studying me nearly makes me wonder if I've just insulted him somehow — like I've spoken some kind of curse word. Instead of acknowledging it, I just pull out some cash and clear my throat, hoping to avoid any kind of conversation that might put me off. I'm having enough trouble justifying this move as it is. The last thing I truly need is some gas station clerk telling me something I don't wanna know.

To my surprise, and I suppose my relief, the man just grunts and says, "Careful on the roads up that way. The animals don't scare easy."

"Noted," I acknowledge before handing Tate his bag of snacks, which he looks down into eagerly.

Ushering him gently toward the door, I briefly watch the men huddle up again. They're all casting glances and talking real low by the time I reach the door. I swear I saw a hint of pity in the expressions of a few. The rest of the ride, I thought about it.

Somewhere along the way, not long before the sun hid itself behind the trees, Tate finally dozed off. I knew he finally had when I look back to find him struggling to hold his head up. Truth be told, it was a relief for me to see him comfortable. I can't imagine how worn out he was after such a long day. Not to mention, how worn out I was. I didn't make it much further than the sign that welcomed us to Gravity Falls before I felt a wave of exhaustion.

Despite it, and the added lull of the rain, I press on for another mile or so. The place seems so empty — no cars passing, no significant structures — it isn't often I let an eerie feeling best me, but this time it was hard to ignore.

Where I come from, animals are bound to run out in front of cars. A lot. So, in hindsight, I probably should have taken it to heart when that clerk warned me. I'm hardly prepared when it actually happens, no matter how on edge I am.

Just about the biggest animal I've ever seen makes a mad dash across the road, not much more than a yard in front of the van, followed by what I swear was a man. Needless to say, I found out rather quickly that the breaks are in good shape. Or, rather, were before I made the sharpest stop in my life. In my fit of annoyance and fear, I shout a rather vulgar string of expletives after the pair and lean my head back against the seat.

For a long moment, I sit in silence, staring over the steering wheel at the headlight beams while the mist of rain floats through the night air. Then, I shove a hand back through my hair and sigh, turning to face Tate. He's gripping a bag of peanuts tight, obviously a little shaken. Otherwise, he seems just fine, but it doesn't stunt my guilt.

My shoulders drop, the tension leaving as I speak up, "You didn't learn that word from me. Understand?"

A very quick nod.

"Good... you okay?"

Another.

"Okay," I say through an exhale.

***

Making it the rest of the way was a slow, but tense ride. I found myself eyeing the sides of the road more often than I paid attention to the road signs. I'm almost convinced I found Fiddleford's motel with luck alone by the time I let the van wind down in the parking lot.

Gingerly, I lift Tate from his seat and hold him up against my shoulder while I look around for the right room number. Most of the doors have half the numbers they used to, the only real indication are the sun stains left behind to reveal what once was.

I only have time to knock twice before the door opens abruptly and I'm met by my wide-eyed friend. He looks a lot more worn down than I remember him. Tired. Maybe a little scared, even. We hardly look the same age anymore. These past few years must have been tougher on him than I originally anticipated.

Yet, he greets me with the warmest smile and nearly squishes Tate when he plucks him from my arms to give him a hug. I don't have much time to enjoy the sight before I'm pulled into the hug too. Ever the believer in personal space, it feels a tad awkward, but I can't help giving in. He's happy and maybe I should be too.

It sort of feels like a reward for all the stress.

FIRST | PREV | NEXT

[bumblekastclips]

KYLE CROUSE: Batman69lol has a question. "How would you do an alternate universe where Amy Rose Snapped and usurped Eggman as the series main antagonist? How different would her kind of evil be from Eggman's? How would her minions differ from the badniks? And how would the main cast Sonic, Knuckles, Amy, Eggman, and Tails feel about this new heel-turn of events? And yes the pun came before the question." And are you asking if Amy- how Amy would feel about Amy Rose? [chuckles] Wait, hold on, is this like an alt- like a different- like an alternate universe version of Amy that's evil...? I'm confused. Help me, Ian.

IAN FLYNN: [chuckling] I think they just went through the list of immediate names. KYLE: Oh, okay. IAN: Uh, the biggest hurdle is to rationalize Amy having a heel-turn, 'cause like... KYLE: It's like Superman having a heel-turn. She's going to force everyone to love each other. [chuckles] IAN: Maybe that's the angle. Y'know, she's going to love and protect everyone... from themselves. KYLE: [laughing] Exactly! Yes! That's how I imagine that would go. IAN: Like, if she's usurping Eggman, that also helps out because she, y'know, is trying to enact change and then starts making the same mistakes. KYLE: Uh-huh. IAN: So... all these little animals, they're out in the wild. They're exposed to the elements. They can be hurt. They can be put in danger... but if they're inside Badniks, they're protected. They're perfectly safe inside these little- and they're mobile, too! So they can still move around, it's not like they're trapped anywhere. KYLE: [laughs] IAN: And, y'know, she has experience. Badniks can be busted open, they can break. Some individuals who won't be named-- Sonic --y'know, unwittingly break them open, so they need some way to defend themselves, so of course they need weaponry. KYLE: Mhm. IAN: And some of these little booboos don't understand that it's for their own good, so they have to be rounded up. Someone has to wrangle them, and y'know, maybe you need to have a little bit of tough love and they need to be forced into the Badniks. It all makes sense in the end! [through gritted teeth] Why is everyone fighting?! KYLE: [laughing] "Why are you fighting against me, I'm trying to help people!" IAN: And, y'know, anyone who fights her is being shortsighted, is being too aggressive, or being mean, or purposefully not understanding. KYLE: Uh-huh. IAN: She takes that very personally, and we know how well she handles being insulted and threatened, which is to say: smash it with a hammer. You would also have the main cast, y'know... they've known Amy, this is a hell-turn, so they have seen the good side. So they would not want to immediately y'know- well, maybe Knuckles. I mean, Knuckles might just throw hands because, "Oh, Amy turned bad? Okay." Punch, punch. "What, she can take it! She dishes it out just as hard. Why is everyone lookin' at me funny? She's puttin' animals in robots! Come on, guys, it's simple!" KYLE: [laughs] IAN: But Sonic and Tails and et cetera would be, y'know, rather aghast. They don't want to hurt their friend. They're very sad that she's taken this path, but they also need to act, because she's doing bad things. And Eggman, who according to this question, has survived, is just chagrined. He's been overthrown, and she's doing a better job than he did. KYLE: [chuckles] For now. IAN: He should've seen the writing on the wall. That whack-a-mole game that he installed in the Egg Carrier, she destroyed his score! Of course she was going to take over! KYLE: [laughing] That's how she took over! IAN: [laughs] KYLE: That's good. That's good stuff right there! [chuckles] I like this idea.

--- TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: Please remember that nothing that is said on BumbleKast is canon! It's just some guys and their opinions occasionally spitballing ideas. If you don't like an answer, you don't have to take it as Word of God or anything like that. It's all just for fun! ----- This question was requested by @fazar234! Do you want a specific question transcribed and posted? Send the question and the episode date to my ask box! Or if you just want questions about a certain character, send me their name and I will see what I can do!

[enigmatist17]

Eh, just an idea that came to mind </3

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He's on the Resolute when he opens his eyes.

Well, that shouldn't be even remotely possible, Rex knows for a fact he died on Yavin IV.

He knows he died.

"Rex? Is everything alright?" Shaking his head, Rex is grateful he's wearing his bucket when he turns to see Ahsoka, a young Ahsoka with so much life to her, looking up at him expectantly.

"I, yes, sorry." Rex somehow wills his voice to remain steady, and Ahsoka raises her eyebrow.

"Right...so, are we still going to train with Jesse or what? I'm hoping to get at least an hour in before Master Anakin forces me to try and sleep." The padawan rolls her eyes, missing the way Rex allows himself a shaky breath as he wordlessly follows Ahsoka down hallways that he traveled in his nightmares.

"Hey, what took you guys so long?" Jesse waved when the two entered, and Ahsoka hurried her pace into the training room with a grin. "Hardcase and I are betting who can take you down first, and I plan on winning."

"In your dreams!" Hardcase laughed, shoving him goodnaturedly as some of the other men watched their banter in amusement.

"For the record, he has gotten further than you." Dogma pointed out, and smirked when Hardcase looked betrayed.

"You have to step your game up, otherwise all those delicious ration packs might be eaten." Fives laughed from where he and Echo were arm wrestling, lamenting when Echo managed to take his momentary distraction to his advantage. "Kriff."

"What was that about never losing?" Echo grinned, the expression faltering when he looked behind Fives. "Captain, are you alright?"

Every set of eyes in the room darted over to the door just as Rex's knees hit the floor, and the playful energy in the room vanishes as Ahsoka is the first to reach his side. He can hear her talking to him, but the ringing in his ears drowns over every word as small fingers probe him for injuries that aren't there, skin devoid of the scars he would come to earn later in his life. Kix is kneeling in front of him now, and Rex jerks back when the medic tries to lift his helmet off, scrambling to his feet and away from the mass of soldiers who were extremely concerned at seeing their captain acting out of the ordinary.

"Captain, talk to us." Fives approaches him with his hands raised, and Rex wants to joke about not being some scared animal, but every word he could have said just seem to get stuck in his throat as he just stares. "Please, let us help."

"I..." He sounds like he's been screaming for hours, and motions for Fives to step back as he regards the people in front of him.

"Hey, is everything alright in here?"

The universe stops as Rex turns ever so slightly to look at the other entrance to the training room, and has his blasters out and pointed before he can even blink.

"What the hell is going on?!" Jesse hissed, everyone remaining still as if the slightest movement could trigger Rex to fire. "Are you out of your mind Rex?!"

"Rex, buddy, what are you doing?" Anakin holds both of his hands up, staring back at the man who has both blasters focused directly at his head. While the Jedi might not be the best shooter, he knows when someone is aiming to kill, and more so when they're terrified of their target. The raw fear and anger spilling into the Force from Rex could probably be felt all the way to Coruscant, and Anakin can only wonder what's changed in the last hour since they had successfully completed their latest campaign.

"Stay right there." Rex nearly spits out the words to Anakin, and the Jedi doesn't move a muscle as Rex takes one step forward.

"Rex, talk to us." Ahsoka darted forward before anyone could protest, putting herself directly between Rex and Anakin. "We won't hurt you!"

"He would." The anger is gone from his voice, but his stance hasn't faltered for a moment as he readjusts his aim around her. "Move Ahsoka."

"No, I won't let you hurt Master Skywalker." She stood firm, and Rex finally looks away from Anakin down to her, and the sorrow that suddenly traveled through the Force nearly had her step back.

"Rex...what's happened to you?" Anakin doesn't flinch when Rex looks back up, just keeping his stance as calm as possible. "You can always talk to me about anything."

Rex shakes his head, and drops his arms with a strangled noise no one in the room had heard before, his guns clattering to the floor as he sinks back onto his knees. Ahsoka once again kneels in front of him, and Rex doesn't fight her as she reaches up and removes his bucket, revealing a tear-stained face heavy with loss and exhaustion.

If someone had looked at Rex earlier in the day, he would not be the same man now openly showing his sorrow in front of them, as if he'd been carrying a burden for a long time.

"Rex, talk to us." Echo kneels beside his commander, feeling dread at the way Rex looks at him with a pained expression.

"We lost everything."

The Resolute stands motionless in her post as every single clone aboard is ordered to the hangar, to be addressed by Captain Rex.

He talks to them for hours and tells them of the future, a future he had died as the last clone from the army that had once stood as millions strong. How they were all created to be one thing, a weapon to wield against the Jetti, and bring about an end to the Republic they fought for so dearly. His voice breaks when he speaks of the day they all turned against their Jetti, of how he and Ahsoka became one of the last of the surviving 501st because he had headed Fives' warning and fought against the weapons inside their heads. Rex tells them of the Empire that rose from the ashes of the day they had their free will torn from them, how clones either served and died under the Empire, or were tortured and killed by the same. He speaks of their numbers dwindling in such a short time, until finally, he was the only one left, the only one who had helped bring the Empire to its death.

Rex is staring at Anakin when he speaks of the way he was manipulated by Palpatine, the Jedi looking horrified when he learns he became a Sith that killed too many innocents to mention. Rex is staring at Ahsoka when he speaks of the Rebellion that she helped build, and is haunted when he speaks of the day she died in his arms.

Rex isn't standing by the end, his voice hoarse as he's slumped against Fives, just speaking about everything vital until he finally goes silent. He watches as Kix and the medics all but vault for the exit, and Rex can breathe in relief when he knows that the chips will be found within minutes.

Rex is left with the Jetti alone in the hangar when the men filter back to their posts, all awaiting their turn to be seen by the medics. Ahsoka is hugging him as tight as she can, feeling so horrified and lost at what they had learned, and wanted Rex to feel that he wasn't alone again. Anakin is sitting by his side, one hand on Rex's shoulder, and the other holding up his lightsaber as he stares at it, suddenly finding his weapon fit more for an executioner rather than a Knight.

"Keep it." Rex's voice is barely above a whisper, and Anakin looks at him. "You're a symbol."

"No...not with what you told me." Anakin was a monster, so blind to trust Palpatine, who was using him rather than actually caring for him.

"You have time, use it." Slowly, Rex places his hand on the hilt, and with a hum, the familiar blue blade slides out. "You are a good Jedi."

"I promise to stay that way, I promise." Anakin puts his other hand over Rex's, and for the first time since he had to watch his own brothers die so long ago, Rex feels something.

Hope.