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cmyknoise · 2 years ago

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This is going to be a long post, so, warning of that.

I feel like everyone is pointing fingers at each other and different things to try to pin the blame on some absolute reason on why the Dream SMP story has been failing the last several months when you simply and quite literally can not do it.

You can’t pin the blame only on fans. You can’t pin the blame only on large cc’s. You can’t pin the blame on only small cc’s. You can’t pin the blame only on time management. You can’t pin the blame only on lack of communication.

Because really, the problem lies in a combination of all of these things.

I would argue that after about December of 2020, fans of the Dream SMP had a big influence on what the content creators would do next due to their increasingly high standards and expectations.

The DSMP started off with relatively low effort streams that were very frequent that would contain small bits of lore, goofing around, playing minecraft, etc. Things like the Disc War and even things like L’manburg started out with small daily or weekly streams of just the cc’s goofing about, with some big planned event that it would build up to. As the Dream SMP became more popular, as more people joined the SMP, the production value of streams increased. This was good for many reasons, but the problem then came with each stream needed to surpass the previous to please the fans, which meant less frequent streams, more production value, less frequent, continuing and continuing.

It got worse when cc’s would try to do smaller casual streams, and fans would proceed to question on whether these were even big enough to be considered significant anymore, or to constantly berede and bug cc’s for lore when they were doing other things.

This absolutely put pressure on the cc’s to produce higher and higher valued streams in order to meet demands of quality, but now fans want both the quality and quantity which simply can’t happen with how busy some people are. It gets to the point now where before a stream has even occurred, fans speculate so much that they get angry and these streams people work on to script or make high value are brushed off or criticized beyond unfairly.

Fans also criticize pretty much every new member to the SMP and have as early as when Ranboo had joined. He had not joined the SMP to fans with open arms (though now he’s a fan favorite). They expect them to either produce just as high quality things as older SMP members, or to know each and every detail of a series that is ongoing for 2 years with 30+ povs, and so many other things. Not to mention when they do produce lore related content, people don’t watch it or they needlessly compare and criticize.

This sort of pressure and expectation has absolutely lead to the hiatus and issues we currently have in production now, however it is NOT the only thing at fault.

There is this huge split between streamers on the SMP due to their viewerships. Dream stated in the past that the goal of the SMP was to invite his friends or friends of friends because early on, his name meant big views, and it would very much kickstart their streams. He stopped streaming on the SMP for this reason.

When things like lore kicked up, this wasn’t as big as an issue early on because there were so few people, and these people had started to write a story that only contained them, but then more people were added.

Some were able to fit into the main story being told at the time (Captain Puffy, Ranboo, Foolish, to name a few), but as the story kept going on, and people were added, there was no way for them to be easily written into the story. So you have this group of streamers with higher view counts making this massive story, with groups of smaller streamers who joined the SMP (or who were already there just not a main part of the central story) to have fun or maybe try to get the viewership others got, but couldn’t really be included in the central story. When this happened, a handful went on to work on their own stories to run in parallel. Some of these worked, like the Egg Arc. Others have since fallen through, such as the sort of goal of capitalism (Hannah, Boomer, Sam, and a few others). Recently we have news of people like Eryn who had to drop his because of reception and lack of interest (as well as communication issues but I’ll go over that next).

This disconnect is unfortunate but I think that it’s caused by new members, or members uninvovled with the central story from an early point in it, being unable to flesh out ‘side stories’, and this is caused by a ton of things. Some of the cc’s dropped their stories once they realized it couldn’t tie into central plot, rather than making their own. Others didn’t try. Meanwhile you have cc’s who were unable to properly add them into the main story.

This is not one person or group’s faults, the small or big streamers. It’s just unfortunate circumstance where it’s hard for everyone to win. Realistically people can no longer join the central story as it is ending, and it’s up to new people to create a new story, but so many have relied on using the central story that it can’t work. This coupled with the next reasons have lead to a lack of story and interest.

Time management and communication goes hand in hand of being and issue, and you can point fingers at several of the cc’s for various different reasons and instances where it was because of them that plot didn’t or couldn’t move forward, but ultimately it comes down to people talking privately rather than with as many as they could as a whole.

We’ve heard horror stories of what the Dream SMP discord looks like and how the lore and planning channels are hardly spoken in even once a month, and how some cc’s have tried reaching out to others for lore and scheduling purposes only to get ghosted. Others don’t ask.

You have situations like the prison break, where it was pushed back 8 whole months, only for them to do it on a whim. They did this without telling one of the main writers, Wilbur, which in turn affected his and several other’s already pre-written and planned stories, leading to supposedly 11 whole streams being scrapped.

You have situations like Eret or Eryn who had tried to reach out to do lore, only to be ghosted or not get a response back.

You have others who blatantly make fun of lore or make fun of people doing lore, or who even go out of their way to out of character try to mess it up (Dream & Sapnap joking and making fun of lore in stream, Hannah, Sapnap, George, and a handful of others trying to kill lore-important mobs like Michael the Piglin and getting upset at the serious reactions they got. You have people who made fun of Hannah when she was upset her elytra was broken and not taking that as serious lore, etc).

You have situations where for very good reasons someone may not be able to do frequent streams (Techno due to health, others due to work or mental health or side projects or whatever the reason), but others have built their lore so codependent on these people that they can’t do things alone or change up things.

There are so many instances of these people not talking to each other that have in turn fucked each other over. This is a huge reason why things are so slow coming.

But once again, you can not blame any one of these things and only these things. You can’t blame any one person. You can’t say well it’s not fair because Wilbur and Tommy and Dream didn’t include people in their lore, because at this point they simply can’t. You can’t say it’s the smaller cc’s fault for expecting help with lore or trying to cash in on viewership. You can’t say it’s just communication issues or if only one person would talk to another it’d be fine. You can’t say it’s just the fans having high expectations for ‘only a minecraft roleplay’.

You can’t say it’s any one of these things, because it is all of them combined that has lead to the state of the current SMP, and it isn’t even all their faults. There is plenty here that is completely beyond their control or abilities to fix or remedy.

You have to look at the SMP as a whole, and the issues as a whole. It is in part the fault of everyone in different aspects on why it is like it is, and the only way it could be fixed is if everyone realizes that and takes a few steps back to try to remedy things in all areas that have problems.

Writing side stories or other stories to go parallel to the main smp. Making stories that aren’t reliant of dependent on others, especially older ones. Communicating better. Managing time better. Compromise. Taking everyone’s stories seriously. Watching low viewer streamers and povs. Fans letting some of the smaller details and plot holes go and lowering some expectations on production value or frequency. You can’t have both. Building up newer members and their stories. There’s so much that everyone involved directly and not involved directly can do that would help.

This isn’t some high production film or tv series, you can’t treat it like one, but you also can’t treat it as just a videogame or silly roleplay when there is active deep story telling.

Not to mention this is over 2 years old, it realistically can not go on forever. Maybe it’s time to make a sequel or other fun projects so people aren’t tied to the same story for so long, so they can make new and just as fun things because they have the free time and ability to do it.

There’s a lot, but trying to pin the blame on only one part of the issue is frankly only furthering the divide and making the issue bigger, because they could fix one part, but that will not do anything if other things are left how they are.

#dsmp #dream smp #discourse #fandom critical #ask to tag #long post #lemon's stuff

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amor-immortalem · 3 years ago

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An Alternate Path

Genre: Angst

A/N: Originally this was supposed to be a two-part mini fic but people asked about a part three. I wasn’t sure where else to exactly go from there since the end of the second part felt so final for me. But then, inspired by a comment on the 2nd part, I began to think about how it would have gone if Arella hadn’t been revived with Mammon’s blood. Think of this as the bad end to the AU. This is the final part.

obviously spoilers for the lesson 16 incident and for lesson 50 (i think… correct me if Im wrong)

Replaced part 1

The Good/True End

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He sits in his room starting at the dried blood on his hands, heart aching from the loss of his mate. It had only been mere hours since Barbatos had taken her body to prepare for funeral rites but to the Avatar of Greed, it had felt like centuries. Why? He’s asked himself this question over and over. Why didn’t you check on her sooner? Why didn’t you call or text? Why didn’t you notice? Why didn’t you feel something was wrong through your pact?

As much as he wants to, Mammon has no more tears left to cry. His human is gone, never to return and it was the fault of him and his brother. He should have been there sooner. Should have reminded her how much he cared. Should have done a lot of things. He had every opportunity to, but he squandered all of it.

He rakes his hands through his hair as they whys replay in his head. The demon doesn’t have an answer for them- none that would satisfy them, at least. He lets out a yell as grief turns to rage and nothing of value is spared from his violence. Items and trinkets knock from their shelves, furniture overturned, by time the second-born was done, his room looked like a war zone.

It’s only then that Mammon collapses to his knees and lets out a broken wail as he can hear the restless cawing of his crows outside.

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Levi is alone in his room, having shut himself away hours ago. Laying in his bathtub bed, the Avatar of Envy loses himself to his thoughts and the view of the water above him. He can’t help but think about what would have happened if he had put his foot down when Asmo approached him to recruit him in helping his little matchmaking plan for Melissa and Satan.

And then his thoughts focus in on the other human. If she had never come, if they had never welcomed her into their lives through the exchange programme... Arella would still be alive. She’d still be sitting here, playing video games and helping him decide which anime he should choose to watch when there was a conflict of time slots. They’d still be talking about their Husbandos and Waifus just as they always had. But she’s not here. She never will be anymore. All because he didn’t have the spine to act like the older brother and tell Asmo no. Because he allowed his younger brother to monopolize his time.

His best friend is gone and he was part of the problem that led up to that. Levi has never felt so much self-hatred before and, just like with Lilith, he doesn’t know how to come to terms with the loss of another person so dear to him. For now, he’ll just lay here and waste away like the filthy, yucky otaku he is, wishing there was a way he could go back and undo it all or hoping that this was all just some horrible nightmare that his brain has conjured up.

“She’ll be back in the morning... right? She’s just sleeping over at the castle, right?!”

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Beel just eats. He eats and eats and eats to make the pain go away but just like his endless hunger, the pain never stops. He feels so empty inside that the only other option is to gorge himself until he physically can’t hold it anymore and vomits before he goes back for more until the cycle repeats and he runs out of food. The loss of their favorite human is killing him now- the grief of it squeezing his heart like an anaconda.

If he would have just gone to invite her to that new café she had wanted to visit with him only an hour sooner, this could have been stopped. But he didn’t. He didn’t and that’s what cuts deepest. He should have noticed when she stopped coming to dinner, or skipping breakfast, or not joining the student council for lunch day after day. He should have realized something was wrong then. But he chose to ignore it, thinking it was just one of those ‘moods’ Arella had told him about human women experiencing at certain times of the month. He thought he was helping by giving her space these last few weeks but Beel knows now that he was dead wrong.

Who would be his food buddy now? Who would let him drag them all over town in order to try out restaurant after restaurant, café and café? Sure, he had Belphie to take with him but his younger twin never really showed the same excitement when it came to trying out all the different food and drink options on the menu. The demon doesn’t realize he’s crying until the tear drops hit his hands. She only needed one of them to take a moment to see her and none of them could be bothered do just that.

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Belphegor only wants to sleep. He wants to sleep and never wake up again. In his dreams is where Arella is, happy, smiling, laughing. That laugh will haunt his waking moments forever as he realizes that for the second time, the Avatar of Sloth has caused her death. Belphie was only one of two brothers who rejected Asmo when they asked him to help with that damn plan of his. It had been too long since he and Arella had napped together after school or plotted something with Satan as part of the Anti-Lucifer league. How he missed those days.

He can feel the tears pool in his eyes as he curls up into a ball on the bed in the attic. He wonders if he had just stayed up here forever instead of trying to trick Arella into setting him free, would this hole in his chest disappear? As he buries his face into the body pillow Arella had gifted him for his birthday this year, he cries himself to sleep- indulges himself in all the good memories they had made together after she had forgiven him for everything he had done to her.

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Asmodeus is lost. They stare and stare at their skincare products trying to will themself to start their nightly skincare routine. How could they have been so foolish? The passage of time is so different to humans than it is to demons. They had only meant to take a month to match Satan and Melissa up so how had it turned to eleven already?! The Avatar of Lust wants to scream. Both at themself and no one at all. Hot tears still sting their eyes as they shapeshift. They change and they change and they change forms- any number of features forming and then shifting away as they try to find a look that they won’t recognize themself in but it doesn’t work. Asmo’s not able to look themself in the mirror for the rest of the night as they just crash down on their bed. They want to mark up their beautiful body into some hideous to match the feelings crushing their heart. Asmo wants to do something- anything- to themself to experience even a fraction of the pain Arella must have felt but all the demon feels now is just hollowness.

Their phone is vibrating on the bed next to them- a call from Solomon. No doubt he could feel Asmo’s distress through the pact they share but the Avatar of Lust is too tired from hours of ugly crying and most certainly not in the mood to speak to anyone- pact master or otherwise. The phone goes unanswered.

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Satan has his head buried in the books. He’s been at this for hours- there must be a way to bring her back to them! Melissa is with him, bringing whatever books he asks for in his search as she too is eager to bring the lost human back to this plane of existence. There was so much they wanted to do with her. From watching cheesy mystery dramas together to forming a small book club consisting of just the three of them, none of that would come to pass now.

As book after book turns up dead ends, the demon just buries his head in his hands. It feels pointless now. Who was he to play God with life and death? The thought of never seeing his friend alive once more is enough to break the Avatar of Wrath as his shoulders shake with violent sobs. He wants to go on a rampage- destroy the whole city but what would that fix? It certainly wouldn’t bring her back.

As the demon continues to cry, Melissa only wraps her arms around him and he returns the gesture. She runs her fingers through his blonde hair in an effort to calm him and it seems to work, if only for a little while. She pulls a chair up to sit next to him as she holds his hand in hers.

“Tell me about your favorite memories with her,” They girl begins, “We can’t undo what was done, but we can keep her memory alive by sharing the good times.”

And so, they talk late into the night, Satan smiling at all the memories of Arella that he holds close to his heart.

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“Hi this is Arella! I’m sorry I can’t get to the phone right now but leave a message after the beep.... Beeeeeeeeeep”

The sound of his brother’s laughter followed by Mammon calling Arella a dork in the background can be heard at the end of the greeting on her D.D.D.’s voicemail. The Avatar of Pride can only smile with tear-stained cheeks. He was beyond intoxicated, having just finished his fourth bottle of demonus for the night. He can feel the anguish his brothers have been going through all night and it only makes his sorrow deeper.

When Arella first arrived, all Lucifer cared about was keeping her alive long enough to make it through the year. She was unimportant to him outside of the viability of the exchange programme. Back then, he would have laughed at himself for the state he was in currently. She was just a human. Why did it matter if she lived or died if it didn’t affect the exchange programme?

But she wasn’t just a human. She was their human. She was special to him. And now she was gone. There was no second chance. There would be no merging of timelines to keep her alive. Fate was cruel, but sometimes Diavolo could be crueler.

Lucifer knew his longtime friend had a reason for this. He was teaching the brothers a lesson with her death. As much as it hurt now to lose another part of this family, things would get easier as the years went on regardless of how horribly they all would miss her. This was a lesson he and his brothers would not soon forget.

Cracking open his fifth bottle of demonus, the first-born scrolls through devilgram, saving pictures on her profile to be used in the memorial service. One of Arella with each of his brothers and himself and multiple pictures she’d taken with all eight of them from their adventures throughout the years that they’d all been together.

He lets his mind wander back over the last eleven months. All the red flags he had missed with his rose-colored glasses. They all made sense to him now. All the time she spent isolating herself from them, skipping meals, leaving either incredibly early for school or incredibly late for school. She was trying to get them to notice her over Melissa. He regrets their last interaction from a few months back. The way there had clearly been something wrong, yet he chose to lecture her about attending RAD on time as to not disgrace Diavolo. How he wishes he could take it back.

As the only brother save for Belphegor not conscripted to help Asmo in his ridiculous plan, Lucifer should have been the first to reach out to her. He may have been buried under paperwork, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t just sit and talk while he worked. He regrets not calling or checking up on her.

A video plays on her devilgram. It was from one of the nights they had spent up in the human world last summer.

“Awww, come one, Lucifer. It won’t be that bad. We’ll have those flowers from the fairy rings and make it back in one piece. I promise to keep Mammon under control so we won’t cause any trouble.”

The Avatar of Pride clicks out of the app as he feels more tears gather in his eyes. He can’t do this right now. Not tonight.

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Her service was beautiful- Or at least that’s what Lucifer tells Mammon as he and the rest of their brothers return home. Mammon wanted to go, he really did, but with it only being a few days removed from her death, the second-born couldn’t bring himself to go. It wasn’t because he didn’t love her or didn’t want to celebrate his mate’s life but it was still far too painful for him.

Part of him was still in denial over it too. Somehow, he’d managed to convince himself that she wasn’t gone. She was just stuck up in the human world and had forgotten her D.D.D here so he couldn’t call her. The logical side of him knew it wasn’t the case and every time he was reminded of it, it threw the Avatar of Greed into a deeper pit of despair. He’d spent some nights since she’d passed alone, crying himself to sleep begging for his human to come back to him others he would just lie awake, tracing over where her mark from their pact had been etched into his chest, set right over his heart.

Suddenly years have gone by now. His brothers have made peace with her passing but Mammon cannot. Visiting her grave never helps to ease the pain either, but still he goes. If Arella’s spirit still lingers, no doubt she would be upset if he didn’t go. It would only serve to prove her dying thoughts true when they couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“Hey, Treasure... Miss me?” There’s no one here but Mammon and a tombstone. “I miss you... everyday... So much changes every year... Both Asmo, Levi, ‘n Satan got kids now... little girls for them and Levi has a boy...” He pauses to take a shuddering breath as the cold wind blows. “Can ya believe it? The first kids born ta this family and their both girls and then we got a boy... sweet little things too- alla ‘em. I wish ya coulda been there ta meet them... Actually, looking at my brothers with their kids, it makes me wonder what ours woulda been like, ya know? And I wish none of this woulda happened... you deserved so much better than me ‘n I knew that. We all knew that. But ya chose me anyway and look where it got ya... Six feet under... If I could go back and do it all over again I would. I woulda told ya what was goin’ on. I woulda spent more time with ya. I woulda... woulda proposed... made sure you knew how much I loved ya everyday... I know ya probably can’t hear me, but I’m so sorry... for everything! I love you so much that I can’t move on and I won’t. If I die single then that’s fine by me.”

As he cries, thinking he’s alone, Arella watches from her seat on her tombstone. None of the brothers knew it but she’d been watching all this time. It wasn’t until she passed that she realized how deep their feelings ran and part of her wishes she would have waited just a bit longer before leaving for the human world that night.

She tries her best to let them know she’s there- that she loves them and is watching over them with Lilith, but she’s not strong enough to do more than move small objects around. She hopes that they’d notice but they never do.

As she hops off of her tombstone, Arella crouches down next to her mate. The best she can do for him is conjure a warm breeze as her spirit leans over to press a kiss that he’ll never feel to his cheek. Upon the breeze, he can hear a soft whisper of a reply.

“I love you too.”

And it's that reply that reassures him she’s there and she always will be. He hopes maybe in another life they’ll meet again and get to have the happy ending they never got to have in this one.

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taglist: @gayassfuckinghomosexual @joyvlee

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 3 years ago

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Dream SMP Recap (June 21/2021) - Prison Podcast: Ep. 1

Techno and Dream start a podcast together. Divine intervention occurs.

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VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Foolish

Technoblade

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- Ponk commits arson

- Foolish works on Las Nevadas in a Batman skin and gets Slime a slime

- Techno and Dream are together in prison. Techno asks if they ever get fed and Dream tosses him some potatoes that he’s been saving. Sam hasn’t been there in two weeks

- Dream tells Techno they torture him

Techno: “You’re getting tortured?”

Dream: “Yes!”

Techno: “Bro I cannot relate at all. That is a you problem. Maybe I’m just like their favorite prisoner so they don’t do that.”

Dream: “They haven’t even been here since you got in here!”

Techno: “That --that could -- also po-- maybe it’s ‘cause they just know that I’m their favorite prisoner. They don’t even have to check up on me ‘cause I’m just so obedient.”

- Dream walks over to the lava

Dream: “I have been in here! For months!”

Techno: “Oh yeah!”

- Dream tosses a potato in the lava

Dream: “Does this hurt you?”

Techno: “...I mean a little.”

- Dream throws another

Techno: “How many of those do you have to be throwin’ them away, man?”

Dream: (mumbling as he walks back) “O-okay well I don’t have that much [unintelligible].”

- Techno comments on how wasteful the Netherite block floor is. He wonders how long it takes to punch through it

- He asks what Dream does for fun. Dream says nothing now. He tells Techno about how he used to have a clock that he’d throw in the lava to get Sam to visit. Techno thinks it sounds like Dream was vandalizing his own property

Dream: “It was something to do, but now there’s nothing.”

Techno: “Well, at least we can hang out and be friends.”

- He starts going up to Dream and bumping them

Techno: “Friendsss.”

Dream: (walking away) “Personal space!”

Techno: “Frie -- bro what personal space! We’re locked in this tiny room!”

- Techno goes over to the lava wall instead

- Dream spends most of his free time writing his diary. Techno asks if he’s published anything to Wattpad

Dream: “...No...”

Techno: “You hesitated.”

- Techno asks for Dream’s pen name. Dream insists he’s never written on Wattpad

Techno: “So it’s a different website, is what you’re saying.”

- Dream instead wants to focus on getting out of prison. Techno asks for his ideas, but Dream says it should be Techno with the ideas

Techno: “Eh, yeah, I’ll get to it later man.”

- Techno encourages Dream to have a more optimistic outlook. Dream says that at least he’s not been tortured since Techno’s been here

Techno: “You gotta go with the flow!”

- Dream walks over to the lava

Techno: “Not that flow -- not -- not that flow. No -- no, don’t go -- don’t go into that flow!”

- Dream steps into the lava and sets himself on fire, then goes over to the water to extinguish it

Techno: “That’s the better flow right there.”

Dream: “See? It’s -- it’s exhilarating.”

Techno: “That’s just -- I would not recommend that. That is not healthy behavior, alright. I think you should see a psychologist.”

Dream: “WHERE?!”

Techno: “I dunno, what kinda prison is this? They don’t have psychologists?”

Dream: “They don’t have anything! They have torture --”

Techno: “I’m startin’ to think they don’t care about our human rights all that much. You were sayin’ you were getting tortured? Who’s been torturing you?”

Dream: “Quackity!”

Techno: “Yeah, that adds up.”

Dream: “Every day!”

- Dream says that Quackity’s torturing him for the revive book, and Techno asks more about how the revival process works. Dream explains that to revive people, he gets a book and then burns it

- Techno asks if it’s an incantation. After learning what ‘incantation’ means, Dream says it’s something like that. He isn’t sure how Schlatt got it in the first place, but he memorized the book and can recreate it

- Techno suggests Dream give the knowledge to him as insurance, but Dream refuses, as they might go after Techno. Techno asks to see the book, but Dream still doesn’t

Dream: “This is like the house situation all over again.”

Techno: “Oh yeah...well on the bright side, you’re not homeless anymore!”

Dream: “True...this is -- to be fair, I did say I had a giant house. This is pretty giant.”

Techno: “It is filled with redstone! I didn’t think you were telling the truth, but here you are. Here you are...how much is rent to live in this boiling cell every day?”

Dream: “It’s...free.”

Techno: “God, that’s incredible.”

Dream: “Except for I get tortured every day!”

Techno: “Well I mean, California rent prices are basically torture so, you know, you take what you can get man, come on.”

- The subject returns to how they haven’t been visited in two weeks. Dream asks what they’re going to do when they get out, but Techno hasn’t thought that far ahead

- Dream writes in his diary that Techno admitted he has a house

- Dream asks Techno about life. When Techno isn’t in a cell, he usually trains to find new forms of combat to get ahead in the arms race for the fight against government

- He also plays golf

- Techno hasn’t spoken to Tommy, hasn’t seen him. He thinks Tommy stole some things from his house a while ago

- Dream then asks how his horse is doing. Techno tells him about his pet foxes and Steve (who is going to break him out of there any second)

- Dream writes these down in his book because it’s hard for him to remember things

- Dream asks who’s feeding his pets. Techno says that Steve can feed himself and it’ll probably be fine for Carl to find grass

- Techno pronounces it as “gif”

- He asks if Dream would like to start a podcast. The Prison Podcast

- Dream wonders what would happen if he tried to revive someone who wasn’t dead

Dream: “What if I try and revive you? What if it goes wrong?”

Techno: “Maybe there’ll be two of me. And then we can be double friends. Wouldn’t that be nice? Two Technoblades?”

Dream: “Well, doubles the likelihood of me getting out of here, but...”

Techno: “Exactly, exactly. The next time they come to visit us in prison, there’s just gonna like be thirty-five Technoblades. And when they try to torture you, I can be like a human meat shield and just wave after wave of Technoblades swarms them and just beats them up.”

- Techno’s okay with trying it, so Dream writes a book and burns it. When they turn around, though, it’s DreamXD who appears

- Techno remembers XD as the person who broke his table, some sort of god

Techno: “You cloned the wrong person! Dream, you fool! Look at him! ...You know that’s actually something I’ve been meaning to ask you -- how come God looks exactly like you? That feels like a question that should’ve occurred to me earlier.”

- Dream doesn’t answer, confused, but asks what they should do. Techno tries talking to him

DreamXD: what are you doing

Techno: chilling

DreamXD: what do you want summoning me

Techno: yo can you grant a wish

DreamXD: one

Techno: i want a bell

- DreamXD gives them a bell and leaves just in time for the sellout timer to go off. Dream is outraged that Techno would spend their wish on a bell and goes over to stare into the lava while Techno enthusiastically rings it

- Dream wonders what Sam and Quackity will say when they see the bell. They try standing next to each other in front of the bell to block the view

- They can’t summon DreamXD a second time

- They talk a bit more about the books. Dream gives Techno some potatoes (in Techno’s inventory he also has four books by Dream, one of which is titled “information”)

- Dream asks about why Techno rings the bell. Techno says it’s about the rituals, and Dream comments that he put a bell in Church Prime (“which is not to be spoken of here”)

- Techno asks if Dream can even get Twitch Primes and claims that Dream is a heretic due to not being under contract. Dream isn’t profiting off of anyone

- Dream has 51 potatoes remaining

Techno: “So uh...got any friends? Hang out with anybody? You know, before the whole thrown in prison thing?”

Dream: “Not really...I did, and then they...turned against me.”

Techno: “Ah. I know that feeling man, I know that feeling.”

Dream: “Just being betrayed by your closest friends...”

Techno: “Ah yeah, happens all the time. Every Tuesday, really.”

Dream: “I’ve been visited by a few people.”

Techno: “Pog, pog. Did any of them like, not try to torture or kill you?”

Dream: “...Yeah?”

Techno: “He hesitated.”

Dream: “Well...Sapnap didn’t torture and kill me, but then he said if I get out of here, he would.”

Techno: “You GOTTA raise your standards, man. You gotta raise your stand-- you’re just getting treated like dirt out here, man. That is just sad. That is just sad! You gotta meet some new people, man.”

Dream: “I think BadBoyHalo treated me the best, probably.”

Techno: “BadBoyHalo, you say?”

Dream: “He treated me the best, probably, when he visited me before.”

Techno: “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s like a cult leader or something, actually, I hate to break it to you.”

Dream: “Wait, what?!”

Techno: “Yeah, there was like this Egg thing...I wasn’t quite clear on what was going on.”

Dream: “That was months ago! He visited me like four months ago, five months ago.”

- Techno talks a bit about how he attacked the Egg cult, “big crossover episode.” Dream asks when was the last time the two of them -- Dream and Techno -- spoke. It was Doomsday, a while ago

- Dream asks about current events, but Techno isn’t the best person to ask about that. Tubbo has a new commune called Snowchester that Techno’s still a bit suspicious of

- Dream asks how Ranboo is. Techno offhandedly mentions that Tubbo might have nukes, maybe as a hobby. Maybe the crater was just Tubbo trying to scare him

- Dream doesn’t know a lot about the outside world. Ranboo used to visit a lot -- the most of everyone until Quackity -- a while ago, but then he stopped. Sapnap, Ranboo, Tommy, Bad and Quackity all visited

- He then comments that Techno seems to like potatoes. Techno asks how Dream knows Ranboo, which Dream says is “a long story.” Then Dream says he doesn’t know Ranboo that well, he just visited a couple times

- Dream asks about the plan to get out again. Techno says that even with the mining fatigue, they can still break blocks. But most of the blocks would set off the alarms, so he suggests the block beneath the toilet

- Even if they break the blocks, there’s an Elder Guardian beneath the cell

Techno: “I can take him...hey, how ‘bout I jump in there, I start beatin’ it up, and if I somehow die despite my elite martial arts prowess, you can just bring me back and I can jump in again and keep beatin’ it up, and then if I die you can just bring me back and I’ll jump in and I’ll keep beatin’ it up.”

- If people come to check on them, one of them can be the lookout

- Techno directs Dream to start punching the block for 24 hours, promising to feed potatoes to him while he punches if he gets hungry

- Dream starts punching

Techno: “What are they gonna do if they catch us, put us in double jail, man?”

- They continue chatting as Dream punches, wondering why the icon for the mining fatigue effect is a spoon. Dream talks about the cat they used to have in there. Eventually the sellout timer goes off again.

Techno starts ringing.

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts

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thebiggestfan1 · 3 years ago

Text

Are you in town? - Matthew Tkachuk (part 2)

part one here

part three here

word count: 1573

TW: consuming alcohol, language

let me know if you want part three, I’m still not used to writing series but I can try <3

...

Calgary was so much different from Chesterfield. It was big, clean, full of life and even after two months of living there, you still couldn’t get used to it.

The work was amazing, the income was amazing, your life was amazing. But as hard as you tried, you couldn’t stop thinking about Matthew.

Before the regular hockey season started, Matt got back to Calgary and you two met in a coffee shop near your apartment. It felt like as if you were back in Chesterfield, just two little kids living their dreams. You haven’t seen him since your sixth meeting, the hockey season occupied him too much, he said. Or was it just an excuse?

You cared too much. And you fell in love too quickly. And there was no way you’d let him ruin his life with all the partying you knew he loved.

After a few more weeks you grew really worried and after an useless visit to his home you’d finally decided to call him. It was long after the game he played that day so he might pick it up. Still, you nearly hung up on him just as he picked the call up, the loud music suddenly blasting through the speakers of your phone.

“Matt? Where are you? I called you yesterday and you didn’t answer so today I went to check on you and you weren’t home and your landlord told me you didn’t come home in days and-” You stopped babbling, scolding yourself. Did you sound as helpless as you were? It was his life and you had no right to talk into it but you just couldn’t help it-

“I’m okay Y/N, don’t worry!” Matthew shouted out and you winced at the loud noise. He sounded really, really drunk. He might have had a reason to celebrate with his team but tomorrow he’s playing again and if he’d be hung over...

“Where are you?” you asked flatly.

“I dunno,” he mumbled into the phone.

“Do you know someone there?”

“I dunno.” Matt repeated.

“Get out of there,” you said as calmly as you could, trying to shove the anger you felt aside. “And tell me on what street you are. Or what bar you’re in, I don’t care.”

“Just- just let me be. Go to sleep. You have work tomorrow.”

“That doesn’t matter, Matt. You have a game tomorrow, that’s far more important.”

Silence.

You heard the noise getting quieter; he must have been outside as you told him. At least he was sober enough to do that for you.

“Where are you?” you asked again.

“Eden.” he read aloud. You knew where it was - you were celebrating your promotion with your new friends there. It was close enough.

“I’m on my way. Don’t hang up on me until I get there, okay?”

“Yeah.” was the only thing he said. You needed to keep the conversation going til you get to him or he’d probably go back in the bar and you’d loose him.

“So, where did you sleep yesterday?” you asked as you started the car and drove onto the road. It was so dark outside, the only things lighting up your way the street lamps.

“At Dillon’s house, probably.”

“Who’s Dillon?”

“My teammate.” His teammate, not a random guy. At least that was a good sign.

You had no idea what to say. Congratulations on winning today and getting drunk as hell a day before another game? Thank god you could see the bar already and didn’t have to say exactly what you thought.

“Okay, I see you. Just stay where you are, I’m here.”

Matt didn’t answer but you could see him hang up, sitting on the curb with his head in his hands.

“Hey, handsome,” you said, sitting down next to him. He gazed at you and you were once again charmed by how beatiful he looked even with the bloodshot eyes. “I think you had enough for today.”

“Can you take me home, please?” he whispered. You had to fight the sudden urge to press your lips on his, taste the alcohol on his tongue, get addicted to his touch; but he was drunk. The worst thing is you probably wouldn’t dare to kiss him sober, either.

“Yes, I’ll take you home.”

...

“You know you messed up pretty big, don’t you?” you asked Matt as you unlocked the door to his apartment. It was a pretty thing that looked really, really expensive; in was on 20th floor in the kind-of-center of the city with an amazing view of the town lighted up like thousands of little stars.

“I have to wash my hair,” was the only thing he mumbled out. You laughed quietly, just now remembering how Matthew acted when he was drunk. It made him even cuter and more clingy and you loved it.

“In this state? You’re probably gonna drown.” you chuckled softly. “Let me help you.”

He let you take him to the bathroom, let you untangle his pretty hair. You were as gentle as you could be, parting the strands of hair with your fingers. You wanted nothing more that this moment to last forever - it was so intimate for the both of you.

Matt leaned his muscular back against the bathtub, tilting his head backwards as you turned on the warm water and soaked his hair with it.

A moan escaped his lips as you scrubbed his scalp with the shampoo and your toes curled up in your shoes. Concentrate on washing his hair, you told yourelf. Nothing more. Don’t think of how would the moan vibrate through your whole body with your lips on his, don’t think about how he’d moan when-

“Here you go,” you breathed out, trying to get the images out of your head. Too late - all you could think about was the taste of his lips.

“Thanks, Y/N.” The way he said it...

“I have to go.” you said quickly, too quickly to seem casual. Maybe he wouldn't notice; maybe him being drunk as hell was a good thing.

And still, you didn't move.

Matthew looked at you then, really looked at you with his beautiful eyes - eyes clear despite all the alcohol in his blood.

You were leaning over him in an awkward position, nearly sitting in his lap, with your hands in his hair. And your face was so close to his that all it would take was leaning in and you two would be kissing.

Matt's lips parted, clearly wanting to say something before closing his mouth again.

"You washed my hair," he finally whispered, lifting his right hand and tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Someone has to take care of you, you know." Especially when you can't do that by yourself, you added silently.

"I didn't want to make you angry, Y/N."

"But here we are, Matt."

Silence.

You weren't angry with him; you were so mad at yourself for falling in love with him. Love was dumb and unpredictable and useless and all it left behind was grief and at least one broken heart.

"Will you be there when I wake up?"

You had work tomorrow but...

“Of course I will. I'll stay as long as you need me to stay."

"You have to stop doing that," Matt straightened in his sitting position, the muscles in his arms shifting.

"What?" you asked cluelessly, not getting what was he talking about.

"Saying things that make me want to kiss you."

"Okay, I think it's time for you to go to sleep. A big day tomorrow, remember?" Your palms were sweating, your heart beating so hard you were afraid he could hear it. Did Matthew mean it? Or was he just drunk and wanted to fuck with someone?

"All my days are big if you’re a part of them," he mumbled as he leaned in and kissed you.

The first thing that hit you was that he smelled of cheap vodka and memories.

This was the moment you dreamed about but it was so wrong. You couldn't stop thinking about the alcohol that probably ruled over his body and how he'd regret this the next morning and that he would cut you out of his life once again-

"Stop," you gasped out, leaning out of his welcoming touch. "No, no, no, we can't do this. You're so clearly drunk and this is so clearly a mistake-"

"Is it? I've loved you since I first saw you; even though I can't exactly recall it because we were so young. But I remember that you held your knife and fork in a different way and you were so stubborn when the teacher tried to make you change it. I remember how you braided your hair in two braids with those cute colourful ribbons. I remember you smiling so widely it immediately made my day brighter. I remember I loved you and I think it would be easy to love you once again."

His words once or twice blended together but you got the meaning of them. It was easy to forget he was drunk. The fact that he meant this was enough to make you forget everything else.

"It would be easy to love you once again, too," you whispered.

Your foreheads were touching and you felt his shaky breath on your cheeks. You should be panicking right now. Maybe leaving him on the bathroom floor would be for the best. But you knew Matt. You trusted him. Yes, it was probably a foolish thing to do, but in love, all people were fools.

And so you kissed him once again, this time thinking only about how much he felt like home.

#Matthew Tkachuk #nhl imagines #matty tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk oneshot #matt tkachuk #calgary flames #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl imagine #hockey #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey imagines #Hockey Players #hockey fic

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youryanderedaddy · 4 years ago

Text

♡100 followers special♡

Guys, I would like to thank all of you for all the support since I started this blog, you are the best <3 Btw this is the fic Elon Musk doesn’t want you to see lol, jk jk

Title: Humanity

Words: 3.6k

Summary: When you get sold to an odd looking robot after the last failure of a rebellion, things go better than you had expected. Until they don’t.

tw: robot/AI apocalypse au, dystopia au, slavery, slight non - sexual public nudity, discrimination, vulgar language, mention of death and child abuse (in the past), obsessive behavior, non - consensual touching, angst

AD 3061y., 14 September

Your hometown was in ruins, shattered by the Forces and left without any source of food, clean water or reliable manpower. The rebellion had failed just like the first ten attempts and as much as you had wanted to believe this time would be different, your dreams stayed nothing more than a way to cope with the harsh reality. Any intelligent individual had either managed to flee before the prosecution or died in agony while trying. You could still hear their pained screams ringing in your ear, the desperate look in their pupils sealed forever in your mind along with the sound of heavy breathing slowly fading into the background like your own hopes for a better future.

The ones who decided to play meek and close their eyes to the inhuman torture happening in the area were spared, but what awaited them could potentially be worse than death itself. You were part of the flock of pitiful weak humans who had surrendered to the heartless machines wanting nothing more than to see mankind squirm and kneel underneath their mechanic heel like a bug. And now you would face the hour of judgment – tired and exhausted, heavy rusty chains around your bruised ankles making every next step a little harder than the last one. But you were certain that the most painful humiliating event hadn’t taken place yet and the thought made your blood run cold. You could recall the countless stories you used to hear on the streets from your friends about androids stealing kids and selling them like cattle to the most powerful leaders of society. Back then you would laugh at them, finding the ideas ridiculous, better fit for a conspiracy theory or a legend rather than an actual threat. But during that time life was easier – the robots were still your friends, just your average citizens, equal to the humans in every manner. It wasn’t until ten years later that some of them realized just how much better, stronger and smarter than the people they really were. That’s how the apocalypse started and that’s how it was going to end. These days the mortals were becoming extinct with the population cut down to one million. You didn’t have names or rights to any possession. Your mere survival had one purpose only – to entertain the machines so they could feel human again. And right now you were being dragged to Soraq, also known as the biggest slave market in the country.

----

It was just as terrifying as you had imagined it to be. The Capital was supposed to express wealth, luxury and maybe even happiness but your old human views were easily opposed when faced with the mud covering what was left of the pavement and the pale exhausted bodies of the mortals wandering the streets searching for a hot meal and a little bit of kindness it was clear no one wanted to provide. You reached out to help a young girl sobbing all by herself on the ground but the Officer roughly yanked your shoulder back and ordered you to keep going – his cold hard touch was enough to bruise your skin.

After a few long minutes of uncertainty your keeper finally stopped, pulling you up some black stairs leading to a small stage and if you weren’t too busy looking around for the others who were captured, you might have noticed the crowd gathered inches away from you. Soon enough you were forced to redirect your attention as you heard the approving screams and cheering below. There were hundreds of robots staring at you, smirking maliciously, pinning you with their cold calculating gazes. You finally realized that this wasn’t just a bad dream or a nightmare, something unreal you could easily run away from by opening your eyes. You were about to become property and the worst part was the way the cruel machines perfectly resembled people – they looked the same except for the dark red pupils each possessed which glowed when going into a fight mode. But unlike humans the androids had gotten rid of their most intimate emotions and fears, turning themselves into empty shells, shiny and murderous with no way to experience anything properly, be it pleasure or pain.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” The Officers started off with a low chuckle, his heavy hand wrapped tightly around your arm. His voice should have been programmed to be monotone but now it had a playful edge to it. “Today our dear subjects have decided to be feisty yet again. They still haven’t learned their lesson it seems.” He grinned eerily, quickly followed by the mocking laugher of the crowd. Some even shouted slurs and insults but you tried to focus on controlling your feelings. You needed to stay calm if you wanted to survive. “We really can’t expect more from the mankind. They are primal after all, they just can’t learn from their mistakes.” The male robot paused for a second to fix his microphone. “It’s in their DNA code to be foolish and pathetic. That’s why we need to take better care of them.” He whispered the last line down your neck and despite knowing that the machines didn’t have actual lungs, you could swear you felt his cold breath on your sensitive skin.

“The woman is in her early twenties. Her background is unknown, but she certainly looks like someone you would want in your collection.” The android continued talking as if you weren’t there, his hands all over your tinier frame. The mass was yelling, but you only made out the words „down”, „strip” and „human”. Your eyes watered involuntarily and you let the tears stream down your cheeks in spite of the weakness they showed. It didn’t matter – it couldn’t get any worse so you could at least let yourself experience such little bits of comfort. In the next moment the Officer ripped your old ragged t-shirt, exposing your breasts to the cold autumn air. The hot red humiliation washed over you as the degrading whistles pierced trough your heart. It was such a cruel unfair punishment and you couldn’t even keep your composure long enough to not break down ugly – crying right there.

“The bidding starts at one thousand eros!” The robot’s evil voice echoed through the area, reaching the market borders. Suddenly all the attention was on your scared vulnerable half-naked self. More than ten androids raised their hands, making your stomach turn in terror. Most of them had unpleasant appearances, resembling old people, usually men. “Do we have two thousand eros?” The officer added quickly afterwards having seen the shown interest. This time there were only five bots willing to buy you for so much money – but the show was far from over. “Am I seeing three thousand eros?” Your keeper kept going, determined to drain your bidders off their wealth, but to his utmost surprise now there were only two robots with their hands in the air – one seemingly younger and the other looking all wrinkled and bitter at the world. You silently prayed that fate would work in your favor only this time and hand you over to the man who would treat you more like a living being and less like an object.

“Ten thousand eros.” Suddenly the android with a kinder appearance declared out loud, his cold stern gaze fixed onto you. The other male hesitated for a moment, probably wondering whether or not you were worth so much money, but at the end he cursed under his breath and slowly put his hand down with a sour expression. “Sold to K-010 for ten thousand eros!” The automatic voice of the Officer was ringing in your ear like an alarm while the crowd was shouting and cussing, some going as far as to criticize your new owner for giving up his monthly salary for a “cheap human whore”. Next he was invited on the stage to sign off all the needed documents leading to your freedom being ripped away forever and you were injected with a tiny chip which would make your location visible to your buyer at any given time. The android looked at you soon after and in one swift move he managed to place his leather coat on your shoulders, muttering at you to cover up. You obeyed, embarrassed by the reminder that your upper half was still fully exposed to all the hungry prying immortals. When the chains were finally removed, the robot took you by the hand and led you to a small white flying car with a yellow lily drawn on top – the brand was popular among the most powerful members of the Forces.

“Don’t even think about running away.” K-010 growled when he noticed the way your attention drifted to the nearby road before finally taking your seat. You knew it was pointless now that the tracking device was deep into your skin but deep down you still couldn’t kill the last bit of hope screaming at you to do something before you were too far away to find home again, wherever it was. “If you so much as look outside while we drive, I will use my lasers to turn you into ash. Okay?” You nodded meekly and sank into the soft comfortable seat, wishing that your body would stop shaking in fear but to no avail.

---

The journey was long and silent but it made you remember the days when music was still allowed and you used to turn the radio all the way up in your mother’s car. You would sing loudly until your throat hurt and your friends would ask you to just shut up and focus on the road. Everything was so normal and happy back then. The stinging nostalgia threatened to overcome so you tried to focus on something else. You finally faced your owner in an attempt to study his appearance. He was probably in his late twenties, his hair white with some black locks here and there, a fashion trend you usually didn’t care much for. You couldn’t afford to bother with your hairstyle when you were constantly running for your life after all. The robotic male had sun-kissed brown skin, he was taller than most human men and his lips seemed softer than most robots’. But the biggest mystery laid in his deep dark eyes, they looked scarlet at first but the more you stared, the easier it was to realize the color was actually brown.

“Are you a cyborg, K-010?” You asked in a small voice out of the blue, breaking the peace and quiet in the air. The android didn’t spare you much attention with his gaze fixed onto the open sky serving as a road, still he opened his mouth slightly to respond. “My name is Kyle, the numbers are just a formality.” He inhaled sharply as if he was reminiscing a bad memory. “And yes, I am biologically human – just with a few practical upgrades.” You had heard of such people before, the ones willing to become an experiment so they could join the high society oppressing their own neighbors, friends and relatives, setting the lands on fire and destroying the dying environment but you had never met one until today. Honestly, you felt betrayed. It was one thing to be some unfeeling machine’s plaything and entirely another to be owned by someone with a functioning heart even though they weren’t too keen on using it properly.

“Why would you do that?” You couldn’t stop the question from leaving your lips in the next moment. “You should know what humans have to go through just to stay alive. Today hundreds of us were crushed and sold like some animals! Yet you changed yourself to appeal to their disgusting standards.” You raised your voice, the hot tears already spilling down your cheeks yet again, your fists clenched in pure anger at the foolish greedy man. He simply shook his head and leaned back. “I had my reasons, sweetheart. You don’t know anything.” With that the conversation had ended, you could try and argue or even blame him for being a selfish bastard but it wouldn’t have done you any good so you decided against it. It didn’t matter much anymore.

----

A few months went by slowly even though time meant little to someone in your position. Living with Kyle wasn’t as terrible as you thought it would be – his mansion was big and spacious, luxurious even. You had your own room and you were allowed to explore the house in your free time. You didn’t have many duties to attend to, your work mostly revolved around cooking, cleaning and keeping company with your owner when he was too tired to keep the robotic mask on and just wanted something sweet, something weak, something more human around. He didn’t want much out of you so you tried to do your best and stay on his good side – there was always a warm meal waiting at the table at night, every window was carefully wiped from the previous dust and the glass was now shining brightly, and you would listen for hours on end to the cyborg’s ramblings no matter how dreadful it could be sometimes.

But it couldn’t be denied that the man had some odd habits, even if you were to overlook him buying a living being instead of simply hiring a maid. For example, you knew how thin the walls actually were because you could hear him cry almost every night. The half-robot would hold you close any time the news were too loud or a bottle of beer had fallen and shattered on the ground. Still you weren’t allowed to leave his home so all the doors leading to the outside world were locked while he was away or at work. And there were these weird long cuts on his shoulders you had managed to take notice of the first time your master had asked you to bathe him. You hadn’t meant to prey upon his naked form, but the task had been so awkward you needed something to focus on to drive the unpleasant thoughts away. The injuries looked deep and the man would close his eyes any time the soap made contact with them. Finally one day you gathered the courage to ask him what had caused the raw scratches. You were messaging his scalp gently, applying jasmine in his roots, trying to soothe his nerves and get to the information.

“ ’S not important. ” K-010 answered lazily while arching his back into your touch. More often than not the male would melt under your care and you couldn’t help but wonder just how lonely it was to be neither a human nor a machine. “She is dead now.” He whispered darkly, secretly hoping it wouldn’t reach your ear, yet it did. “Who is dead?” You questioned him after a while, stroking his wet locks until you heard him moan. You were getting better and better at provoking a reaction from the cyborg and despite knowing it was manipulative and a little devious, he was still the ruthless owner who held your one and only life in his palms. You needed to be sneaky if you wanted a safe, comfortable life.

“My mother.” Kyle added quickly before looking at the blue ceiling, the glossy material copying both of your reflections. The mention of the woman made the sensitive skin of his nape crawl but he kept talking. “The crazy bitch used to beat me every. She even tried to kill me a couple of times.” A slight smile appeared on his full red lips. “It didn’t work out in the end, unfortunately.” So that’s where the cuts were from – he had been violated in his childhood by no other than the person supposed to look after him. You had always hated abusive parents taking advantage of their authority and even now your own imagination made your heart ache at the picture it painted. A small boy being hit over and over until there his whole body was bruised and bloodied. A child with no one to turn to. It didn’t excuse your master’s evil doing but it certainly explained a lot. “Don’t make such a sad face, darling.” He cooed at you, reaching out to pinch your cheek. “I will always be grateful to the Forces since they gave me the power I needed to finally free myself from her grasp. I even buried her myself after everything was said and done.” Kyle grinned from side to side like a little kid waiting to be praised for the picture they had drawn, except now the man was speaking of the way he had murdered his mother. You were at a total loss of words, suddenly too frightened to respond.

“What’s so special about being a human anyways?” The cyborg grumbled, sounding almost offended of the words you still haven’t said but were definitely thinking deep down. You were staring forward unable to draw away from that one crack in the wall, his words flying above your head. Your confusion was interrupted by the man quickly raising to his knees and catching both of your hands with his strong robotized ones. The cold touch of the metal combined with the camouflage of a soft skin was enough to mess your mind even further into the maze that was his dark gaze. Next thing you knew the male had you pinned on the hard ground, spotlessly clean and reeking of abstergent. You tried to squirm away but the hold of your wrists was too tight and strong to even make your struggling worth the trouble. “Just look at how weak you humans are.” K-010 taunted you, smirking teasingly, cruelly, yet there was something desperate in his eyes, something hidden. “You are so fragile I could probably break you if I were to press harder on your flesh.” He whispered into your ear, breathing down your neck as he dug his icy fingers into your collarbone and made you whimper pathetically at the dull pain. “People are foolish creatures, illogical by nature. They try to fight authority yet the moment they are left with a free choice, they find a way to run from their responsibilities.” The cyborg chuckled maliciously while digging his nails further into your skin.

“We might be doomed forever because of our emotions but there is something you fail to consider.” You finally spoke out despite your rapid heartbeat and fear so great it could defeat death herself. The predator already had you in his sharp claws and there was no pointing in playing coy anymore. The worst had come to worst. Your words caught the attention of the half-robot and he licked his lips in anticipation to hear what you had to say. “Unlike the androids we can still experience love. And at the end a life without love is a life wasted in the big picture. We might be mortal but you are the ones waiting to die instead of living.” You spat at the man fiercely, ready to face any punishment he would bestow upon your weak tired body for the sheer honesty. Instead he started laughed maniacally, the sound so loud it hit the ceiling and echoed through the house like a pained scream and so violent his shoulders shook to the sides. For the first time his eyes were glowing in a bright red color so saturated and vivid you couldn’t stand to look at them.

“This is really funny, my little human.” Kyle pronounced carefully, having calmed down. He lowered his head so that his lips were ghosting over yours, just brushing against them. “I belong with neither humans nor robots so why does my chest ache every time I look at you? Tell me, darling, am I in love?” His voice was harsh, husky – as if he was purposely trying to sound evil but the tears in his eyes pointed at another feeling. A raw painful feeling.

You couldn’t reply not only because you had no idea what to say after the confession but also because you couldn’t breathe properly with his pretty, wicked face so close to yours. Your silence only managed to stir the cyborg up further into his madness and he kissed you roughly, hungrily lapping and biting at your lips until they were sore and bruised, the robotic man more than happy to lick the small drops of blood off. For a moment you considered kicking or shouting for help but there wasn’t anyone willing to in the radius of kilometers. No one of significance cared much about the few remaining mortals. “I could never love you.” You uttered weakly, half – heartedly pushing the man away. You were all alone in this and there wasn’t really a point in fighting someone so much bigger and stronger, yet a sad little part of you hoped that Kyle would leave you alone if you made it clear enough just how much his actions were hurting you.

“It’s fine if you don’t love me by choice.” Your master replied calmly in a cold piercing voice. His hands were wandering through your form stopping at your hips to draw them into his. The pretty dress you used to like so much was now crumpled and reeking of him, torn apart from your shivering body and thrown away. You wished you could cry but all the adrenaline had left you too uneasy to process the pain and fear. Kyle whispered in your ear while stroking your hair gently and it made you feel like a trembling sheep before a starved butcher. “I own you, little human.” He placed a small kiss on your hot sensitive neck. “And I have enough love for both of us.”

#yandere #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere ai #yandere ai x reader #yandere cyborg #dystopia #yandere love #yandere concept #yandere oneshot #yandere OC #yandere male oc #yandere oc x reader #yancore

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mysmegrace · 3 years ago

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Hi grace! Could I request some headcanons for the rfa members with a surfer MC who a beach-y lifestyle?

hi! this request is really fitting for the summer time, so why not? please forgive me if this sucks, i don't know much about surfing and i haven't been to the beach in two years lol. thank you for the request!

RFA with a Surfer MC who Enjoys the Beach Lifestyle

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yoosung kim:

he's quite impressed to say the least.

he could remember being in elementary school, watching all the movies with surfers, and wishing he could be just like them.

it's also been cool to him.

though he could never do it.

hence why he begs you to teach him.

what would be better than being taught surfing skills by the girl he'll spend the rest of his life with?

one day in your late 80's, he could surprise you with a beach date and impress you with surfing skills better than yours.

at least, that's what he dreams of.

with your sweet heart, you agreed to teach him.

and after a little bit of surfing lessons and you beating his ass, you took him back to your apartment.

yet what greeted him were objects all reminiscent of the beach once surrounding him.

he could see your love of the beach and summer time in full view as he observed your apartment more.

though amazed, he was slightly upset.

with all the organic fruits and healthy treats, there were no chips or fried chicken in sight.

how did you survive like this, he thought.

but with all food options aside, it was nice to see something different yet so refreshing.

hyun ryu / zen:

he was in utter amazement.

of course his girlfriend was talented and graceful!

she's his girlfriend, after all.

after observing your surfing abilities, he tried to join along.

surely the few times he attempted surfing would be enough to impress you, right?

no it was not

he went underwater in a heartbeat.

yet with a little giggle, you helped him to shore to offer giving him a quick surfing lesson.

after taking a second to consider, he put his pride aside and accepted.

when everyone was packing up, he proposed to walk you home.

looking at the night sky getting darker by the second, you agreed.

once he caught a glimpse of your home after you opened the door to head inside, he was star struck.

he loved the theme of your house.

so much so, that he asked to check it out further.

thankfully to him, you accepted.

and he could've sworn he was in heaven.

though he wasn't invested in the beach lifestyle, he was living the healthy summer-like lifestyle as well.

how could his soulmate be so much like him, he thought.

and as he headed home for the night, he made plans to ask you if you would decorate your future shared bedroom just like how you had your apartment decorated.

jaehee kang:

you left her stunned.

she had only perceived you as a city girl, one not bothered by anything other than work and the occasional outing.

but after walking into your apartment the night you invited her over, she was proven wrong.

the home was decorated with beach-like objects, and gave off an overall summer vibe.

clearly you were someone who loved to bask in the rays of the sun on your off time.

no wonder why you were so relaxed, you were comforted with the beach scenery night and day.

questioning you about it, she said “do you enjoy the summer time?”

she knew it was a foolish question considering your surrounds, but she was still in awe nevertheless.

humming a yes, you brought up the idea of going to hang out at the beach someday.

to which jaehee accepted.

when that day approached, she came prepared with towels, sunscreen, or snacks.

yet confusion took over as she saw you bringing out two surf boards.

“do you know how to surf?” you asked.

she could see where this was going, and responded “no, you surf mc?”

you continued to throw her off guard with your interests and skills.

she loved how unpredictable you were, it always kept things exciting.

taking a short pause, you proposed the idea of teaching her how to surf with a smirk slowly crossing across your face.

without giving herself a minute to really consider it, she accepted.

how hard could it be.. right?

wrong

she was struggling.

how you made it look so easy was beyond her.

but nevertheless, it made for an entertaining time.

though she did come out with a few bruises, she’d do it again.

jumin han:

“you can decorate the penthouse however you’d like” he said.

so why was he so taken aback when he came home to your decorations, you thought.

the place was decked out in beachy themed wallpapers, items reminiscent of the summer, and lights that made you feel as if you were under the sun 24/7.

to say he hadn’t expected this was an understatement.

but he wasn’t opposed to the new vibe the house gave off.

in fact, he welcomed it.

mainly because it was something you created, but he also could use the new change in environment.

you had spoken about how being surrounded by these decorations had a calming effect on you, so surely it wouldn’t hurt him to be surrounded by them too.

intrigued, he asked you many questions.

how did you get introduced to this lifestyle?

how long had you been doing this?

there were simply too many to answer.

but you explained to him how the beach helped you cope with everyday life, how it made you feel best both mentally and physically, also adding in how you had enjoyed surfering.

hold on a second, he thought.

you knew how to surf?

you always had a way of impressing him when he least expected it.

que the income of questions about your surfing skills.

“i’ll show you the next time we go to the beach” you said in excitement.

and you did just that.

with jumin standing, watching from afar, you set off on your short surfing trip.

you couldn’t see much from the water, but you could’ve sworn you say a smile creep up on your loves face.

coming back to shore, he greeted you with a kiss.

“you’re incredibly talented” he told you.

maybe he’d be willing to try one day, you thought to yourself as you walked back home hand in hand.

saeyoung choi:

after everything the two of you had been through in the short time you’ve known each other, a vacation was well deserved.

there was much to celebrate.

the reuniting of twins who had been separated from each other since their teens.

the newfound relaxation that was present in the whole organization.

everyone could finally sleep well knowing the people they loved were safer than ever before.

setting up your area with the surf boards you brought, you offered for saeyoung to join you.

though slightly surprising, he was thrilled to find out how much you loved surfing.

he remembered some techniques he was taught during his time at the agency, and figured he could use some of those to beat you in a surfing competition.

mission failed.

you won by a long hall.

but you two had good fun, and that was all saeyoung cared about.

he could endure the teasing from his failure if it meant you were smiling.

though he had to admit that the surfing had tired him out a bit.

hence why he led you to some benches nearby, as he struck up a new conversation about you.

though the topic didn’t change much.

which led to your confession of your love for the beach lifestyle.

you had explained to him how you would find any opportunity available to rest near the beach and indulge in everything beach related.

he was in awe.

he loved how much you valued something so simple yet so beautiful.

it wasn’t something he knew much about personally, but he could sit there for days listening to your admiration for it.

and once you two arrived home from the vacation, he would surprised you with several things beach related.

the smile he was met with was something he could continue to live for.

---

i have to admit, i know very little about the beach lifestyle, but i hope i portrayed this correctly!

22:59 AST - 08/05/21

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bluefurcape · 3 years ago

Text

WIP Wednesday

The Sun and the Moon

(working title)

Wrote this for KS month but I wanted to expand it more then never really got around to it. So posting it here to pressure me to keep going on it! Light fantasy AU with arranged marriage!

More of my writing here!

It was a political marriage from the start, intended to end a war between their people that had lasted for years. Kakashi had no misgivings about where he and his new bride stood. Two complete strangers forced into the same bed for the sake of peace.

It made no sense that everything could come to a stop because of such a thing, but if that was what it took to stop the needless deaths, Kakashi willingly entered into a sham of a marriage to do it.

With the the wedding party still going on strong below, music and laughter faintly floated up through the closed door. The taste of plum wine lingered in his mouth, coating the back of his throat—the libations had flowed freely tonight. He made no protest when his cup was filled again and again. He lingered at the door, swaying for a moment before turning to the woman kneeling on the silk bedding spread on the floor. She wore a kimono patterned with mountains shrouded in blue mist, the long sleeves and train pooling around her. Her elaborate wedding headdress hid most of her features from him. This would be the first time that he laid eyes on her face.

His bride, Haruno Sakura.

She was the only daughter of the daimyo of the Land of the Mountains; quite a bit younger than Kakashi, from what he understood, but at least she wasn’t a child bride. He had to count his blessings where he could.

Kakashi kept his expression neutral, even as a sense of dread rose in him as he approached her and crouched down to remove the headdress. Despite the naked misery in her expression, she was beautiful, just as his advisers had assured him that she would be. Her unusual pink hair had been gathered into a complicated style and enhanced with gold hair ornaments and pins. Bright green eyes met his then lowered to the floor, but not before he glimpsed the burning anger in them. Her tears had left delicate tracts in her makeup.

“If you would not like to be touched, then I won’t force you.” Kakashi sighed as he set aside the headdress next to her. He wasn’t that type of man and would never be.

She made a small noise of disbelief. “Oh, is that right?”

Throughout the festivities, she remained silent at his side, not speaking once. The first sound of her voice was not what he expected from her; he thought that, like her appearance, her tone would be demure, as refined as glass and just as fragile. Instead, he heard hard, unbreakable steel.

He studied her for a moment. She was a foreigner, alone in this place, having been raised in a land that had been at war with his for most of her life. It was likely that she viewed him, the enemy daimyo, as a monster, and she the sacrifice to feed his appetite. Perhaps she might come to think differently with time, but not tonight.

Kakashi looked away from her, standing again. He began undressing himself, placing his wedding clothes on the waiting stand.

“What are you doing?” Alarm bled into her words.

He raised a brow, gesturing to the heavy robes of black and silver brocade that he’d tolerated for the sake of the ceremony. “Getting ready to sleep. I’m not going to keep these on in bed.”

He continued until he was only down to the thinner under robe. After that, he slipped beneath the covers on the side that she wasn’t occupying and closed his eyes. She was still staring at him, so he told her, “Blow out the lamp when you’re ready.”

“Are you really not going to do anything?” Sakura asked suspiciously.

Kakashi turned, showing his back to her. “Yes.”

Wary silence followed. Finally, there was soft rustling and he guessed that she was removing her formal clothing as well. Though she clearly was unwilling to stay here, she had nowhere else to go. Neither of them could be seen slipping out this room before the morning. He resisted letting out a sigh as he considered the fact that a woman as beautiful as her was sharing his bed and they were only going to sleep. He heard her extinguish the lamp before she slid beneath the covers as well.

“You won’t say that I refused you?” Sakura asked in the dark.

Kakashi knew the implication behind that question. If they didn’t consummate this marriage, then it would have all been for nothing. The fragile balance of peace would surely come apart.

“If anything, I refused you.” He shifted so that he was on his back again, staring up at the ceiling.

This was a foolish move on his part, to give her this power over him. If Kakashi was the reason for why their lands returned to war, then she would at least be free to return home without shame while he would be reviled by his own people. He rationalized his actions in his mind as a test of her character.

“I won’t do that,” Sakura replied after giving it much thought. There was that steel in her voice again, unyielding.

“Then it seems we have a long marriage to look forward to.”

Kakashi did not see his wife often.

It suited him better this way. He had many important duties to see to, in any case, that took much of his day. She was gone before he woke in the mornings, or he pretended to remain asleep until she slipped away. At night, they avoided each other in the same way. They were like passing ships on the sea, never crossing paths. He didn’t know what she did with her time, but he had no interest in learning anything more.

A week passed since the wedding. The delegation from her land would be leaving soon. It was a more subdued affair than the earlier festivities, but Sakura and Kakashi and their retinue ventured out from the castle to bid them farewell from the gates.

She watched them go, her expression torn. One guard, wearing the dark green uniform emblazoned with the white crest of the Haruno clan, turned around, his gaze lingering on her. A strong emotion simmered in his dark eyes. The young man seemed about the same age as Sakura. She made a small sound that only Kakashi was near enough to hear as the guard looked away and rejoined his group.

Before the delegation disappeared from sight, Sakura wrapped her arms around herself and fled, returning to the castle.

That night, Kakashi heard her crying in her sleep. It was the first time that she’d shed any tears since the day of their wedding. He laid there, listening to her quiet sobs and then she spoke a name.

“Sasuke.”

Kakashi opened his eyes and stared up at the rafters.

Ah, he thought. That was likely the name of the man who had stopped to look at her. So there was someone that you had given your heart to before this.

Eventually, her tears faded and she fell into a deeper dream, but Kakashi remained awake for a long time after that.

The next morning, he sat up when he heard her try to slip out beneath the covers as usual and this startled her.

“Good morning,” he said.

Her eyes had gone round and she was so taken off guard by the benign pleasantry that she muttered back, rather rudely, “What is it?”

“I think I need a day off today. Would you like to help me escape my responsibilities?” It was something that Kakashi hadn’t done in a while, not since he had taken on the role of the daimyo.

“Shouldn’t you take your work more seriously?” she asked him scornfully.

He shrugged. “What else is peace good for if not to enjoy life a little?”

She pursed her lips in disapproval, but he was already getting up.

“It would be nice to have a change of scenery,” Sakura admitted.

She had been living in the castle compound for nearly a wweek now. Though he had no idea what her days look liked, he imagined that she hadn’t ventured out beyond the walls, especially in the past week while the delegation from her homeland had been here.

They dressed plainly and escaped through a corridor and a side door that was rarely used. When he showed her this way out, she seemed to consider him differently.

“You’ve done this before,” she observed.

“I discovered it as a child. It was the best way to avoid my tutors.”

Once they were in the courtyard, he led them around a few other buildings as they avoided his aides and patroling guards. He was pleased to see her keep up, following closely at his heels and learning to watch for his silent signals.

He miscalculated as he turned a corner, nearly running into a guard. Thinking quickly, he walked backward and grabbed her wrist, yanking her into a little alley before they could be spotted.

His heart pounded in his chest as he listened for the guard’s footsteps to fade. When he believe they were safe, he let out a sigh of relief and smiled down at her before realizing the intimacy of their position, her frame fitted neatly with his. It broke the unspoken rule between them that had been laid down since their wedding night that they would not touch each other.

“My apologies,” Kakashi said, untangling himself and stepping gingerly out of the alley.

“It’s all right,” she replied as she came out too.

They stood there, shifting awkwardly until he decided that they should keep moving before they were caught. He kept his focus ahead, not wanting to see the expression on her face.

#kakasaku #my writing #sue words #arranged marriage #light fantasy au #this is a rough draft

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thebadboyfanclub · 4 years ago

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Protect The Queen Pt 2 (Geralt x Reader)

So I saw you guys really liked the first part so I decided to make a part two of this so I decided to make a part two, if you want a part three let me know. Enjoy!

PART 1

Geralt was free to leave after that night, he just chose to stay, linger around town and secretly wait for her to call him. He felt foolish, a mutant running around town and hoping a queen will invite him, she probably regretted her words after she walked away from him. One more night, he gave her one more night and the next day he was going to disappear, he was running out of coins and Jaskier was getting more and more annoying.

“Is he still in town?”

“Yes, staying at the inn. My queen you know I would never question you-”

“But you are and it’s not a good look for you. I want you to send someone to go get him in the morning, as early as possible”

“Yes my queen, as you wish”

“You know I was hoping she would come and see you, such a great love story for my ballad”

“If you wrote a song about her she would have your head on a platter the next day”

Geralt growled at the barb. The sun had barely rise but Jaskier was wide awake and full of energy, it was bad enough that Geralt had felt his ego get wounded, he had to deal with Jaskier reminding him that he walked away from this town empty handed and covered in shame for letting himself to believe he had a shot with someone of her status.

“Sir Geralt! Wait”

He heard a female voice call for him as he was about to get on his horse. It wasn’t her, the voice had a hint of anxiety in it’s tone, she would have never let her tone of voice waver. It was a young girl, probably in her teens, she was dressed in clean and what seemed expensive dress. As she stood next to the men she gave a light bow. Jaskier and Geralt were not used to this kind of respect, if anything they were happy if a day passed and they hadn’t heard any insults.

“Sir Geralt, our queen is asking for you”

“ohhhhhhh what a powerful twist, I knew she was planning something”

“Shut it Jaskier”

“Her highness said to bring you to her as fast as possible, she doesn’t appreciate waiting”

The girl tried to regain her breath, she was probably terrified of letting down the queen. Hell she probably had to go back and tell (y/n) she didn’t find her if she came a minute later and it wouldn't look good to go back without getting what her queen needed. Geralt hesitated for a moment, trying to process the idea and also asking himself why she waited until the last day to call for him, to be fair it sounds like something she would do.

“Jaskier wait here, take care of Roach”

“Of course, go get her Geralt”

It only took one look from Geralt for Jaskier to shut up and look away. Geralt followed the girl silently, although he internally hoped the girl would pick up her pace, a sudden eagerness to see her consumed him. He became aware that he was kind of underdressed to be entering a palace, he wasn't even wearing his armor, he was just in regular commoner clothes, for the first time he cared for his appearance while meeting someone royal. She wasn’t just royalty, she was (y/n), she was radiant, she exuded this untouchable aura and her stable tone of voice made others focus on her.

As they entered the palace he got to take a look at the decoration. A smirk was brought in his lips as he looked around, she had definitely changed a lot of things, there was no portrait of the late king, only hers and other females, it had so many different and bright colors mixed together and complimenting each other, the curtains were of light pastel color on the contrary of the heavy dark curtains the other palaces he had been in had. The girl walked up to a woman more older than her, yet still youth was a way to describe her, she was dressed in a gold dress, long light brown hair framing her face and a tall figure.

“Miss Chiara, I found him”

“Very well Mina, run along now, you are dismissed”

“Right away Miss Chiara”

Geralt looked at the woman, she seemed to have the same sense of authority and seriousness (y/n) had, however she did not have the little splash of warmth (y/n) possesses, this woman was just as cold as ice. Geralt took notice how the young girl became nervous around her, she was probably a woman of status, someone that worked directly with the queen, you could tell by her proud posture and sharp tone that she took her position seriously.

“Sir Geralt, welcome to the Queens palace”

“Thank you”

“Follow me please”

It was weird that Geralt had not seen any other male in here yet. (Y/n) had probably kicked out any of the late kings favorite people, she spoke very highly about the female gender, it was only a matter of time her staff was dominated by them, there was not trace a king ever existed, everywhere you looked it was something that had her sense of choice, even the scent that carried around the palace, this light vanilla with a hint of fruit, no heavy musk smell the kings adored, it was her palace now.

The woman stopped right in front of two big wooden doors before she turned to Geralt, a harsh look on her face and also a slight side of a dissapointed manner, she was probably worried about her queens choice of visitor.

“The queen is a very private person, that barb of yours isn’t, whatever words you exchange with her stay in this room”

“I understand”

It didn’t surprise him that the woman asked for some type of privacy around her queen, he was annoyed that people worried that Jaskier would open his mouth, which was a possible scenario however that meant Geralt would let him know anything about (y/n). No, he was not willing to share anything that had to do with her. The woman knocked a few times before pushing the doors open enough for the two to walk in.

“My queen, Sir Geralt is here... like you asked”

“Excellent, thank you very much Chiara. Could you leave us alone please?”

“At once my queen”

The woman gave one last look at Geralt before she left, shutting the doors behind him. He gulped as he took a look at (y/n), her hair were loose, like a waterfall running down, her skin was covered by a silk pastel robe, tied around her waist as it accentuate her figure, the only glimpse of skin were her feet and arms.

“You asked for me”

“Indeed, I was astonished when I discovered you where still here”

She walked over from her bed to the center of the room, she seemed at ease, comfortable with the situation. Yet her sensual energy oozed out more than last time, it almost took over him and forced him to ran to her and kiss her.

“I like the inn, comfortable beds”

“I’m so glad to hear that, I want our travelers to feel like home here”

She started to proceed towards him, her eyes and intense look on her face strained him from moving, freezing like the prey looking at it’s predator. He felt her eyes on him, fixated on his face as she took him in, she could tell that he was quite nervous, it excited her that her presence alone brought such a man unease.

“I told you, I don’t like feeling lonely”

Her voice was low, promiscuous. As her hand to his chin, her delicate fingers felt like a feather was touching him, everything about this woman was made to make him feel weak in the knees. Her perfume was like a drug to him, slowly sipping into him and becoming something so familiar yet he craved to be around it.

“Will you help me Geralt?”

“gladly”

Before he could taste those lips of hers, she moved away and turned her back to him. (Y/n) wanted to jump on to him as soon as he walked in, nonetheless she wanted to play a tad bit of a game. She reached for the knot on her robe and let it loose, her hips swaying from side to side as the robe moved past her shoulders and on to the floor, she was aching for him, she had spent days imagining him sharing her bed, a man like that was definitely more than capable to please her bodys needs. She wanted the first time that he took her to be like that one dream she had the first night after meeting him, that left her to wake up covered in sweat and panting for air.

She stood in front of the window and turned to look at him while leaning on a desk that had scattered papers on it. It didn’t take a genius to realize what she was insinuating, Geralt’s eyes went wide as it dawned of him, you could see the entire garden and the street from the open window, no curtain stood between that view.

“Someone could see us”

“And? I am their queen, it’s my reputation on the line, it can either happen my way or you are free to leave. What will it be Geralt?”

It only took a second for him to make up his mind, his feet guided him to her one in front of the other at a slow pace. When he had finally come close enough for her torso to touch his, he felt her hands touch his arm, caressing his flesh

“You know the only man I’ve ever shared a bed with was my late husband. I hated it, it was only for him to get the heir he craved, it left me to wonder what it feels like to be lusted after, wanted, to feel... pleasure. Are you the answer to those questions?”

Her voice was now barely a whisper, as her eyes locked on his. She didn’t know how she held it together, the simple touch of his hands on her waist was enough to drive her wild, she needed to feel him, to let him show her what being intimate was supposed to feel like. Geralt chose to not answer verbally, he just leaned in and finally felt her lips to hers at a passionate kiss. In a blink of an eye the caress became more aggressive and you could hear the tear of his shirt as she ripped it apart to reveal his torso. It only took one simple tuck of a strap for her dress to drop and show her naked body.

He took a good look of her, she was truly amazing, that goddess like beauty that men dreamt about. His hands went to her breasts and massaged them, feeling them was enough for him to become impatient. A small moan left her lips as he started leaving kisses along her neck, she sat up on the desk and wrapped her legs around his waist.

“You’ll be the death of me”

“It will be- it will be worth it”

she breathed out, her mind was gone and she was just glad she got the words out in the right order. His hot skin against her naked body felt heaven like, she thanked herself for making the right decision and choosing him. Her touch was needy, as felt his pants drop and he grabbed her by the neck, forcing her to look at me

“The queen of the land, naked before me”

“Can you please her?”

After that a moan was heard, as they became one. Both of them moaning loudly as (y/n) laid back on the desk, giving him a good view of her figure, she was breathtaking, as she moved her hips and moaned his name again and again. He couldn’t help and lean down, feeling the need to touch her, kiss her, her arms reaching at his back, leaving scratches as he guided her to road of immense pleasure.

“My queen, submission becomes you”

He whispered in her ear before biting her earlobe. She was better than any of the fantasies he had of her, she was as hot as volcano, exploding and destroying anything on it’s path. Her back arched as she hugged him tightly, for the first time she was truly enjoying the act of sex, she cursed herself for not killing her incompetent husband earlier, her new life was filled with pleasure, pleasure only Geralt could bring her. Her legs started to shake while she felt like a fire was spreading on her body, the moans becoming louder and louder by the second.

“Geralt, that’s it”

“Come on (y/n), let it go”

She felt like her body and mind exploded with glee, the passion he brought out of her in a mix of his skill with women was now pushing her over the edge, as she unraveled and came undone underneath him, biting his shoulder to refrain herself from yelling.

The enjoyment he felt seeing her like this was indescribable. This amazing and confident queen was now shaking and latching on to him, the power (y/n) held over him drove him to insanity. As he felt the orgasm reach him and take over he kissed her as he slowed down and relaxed in her arms. No woman had made him feel such intense satisfaction, her allowing him to take her was truly an out of body experience.

“You.... are an amazing woman”

“You’re not so bad yourself”

both of them were out of breath, sweat dripping over their body and the light of day made her skin shine, like diamonds were decorating her torso. He laced one hand underneath her and lifted her off the table, her head went on to his shoulder as she started kissing his neck. He laid her on the bed and went on top of her, finally kissing her lips.

“I see you’ve gotten comfortable being inside of me”

“It’s very cozy”

Her chest erupted as she laughed at his comment. It was more of a “not wanting this to be over” situation, she didn’t mind though, she didn’t want him to leave either, the idea of having him here all day was delightful. She let her fingers roam on his back, going up and down as he relaxed, the weight of him was a lot but comfortable, she liked feeling his body against hers.

“When will you have to leave?”

“Tomorrow”

“I’m sure the barb will be very happy to spend the night in the palace. Your horse can be safe in the stable”

“Want me all for yourself?”

“As I said, you are free to leave.... tomorrow”

He pulled away from her and laid on his side, as she went under the covers but made sure to let her breast exposed and covered his lower body. It was his turn to reach for her, caressing her face as she beamed with satisfaction.

“And I will, until I can come back”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“A declare of my addiction towards you”

“Really? Then let’s see how intoxicated I can get you in a day”

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markets · 4 years ago

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helloooo

so this post of mine has been gaining some traction lately and due to popular demand (aka one comment telling me to write it), i actually wrote an essay about it. is it good? probably not lol, but its like 3 double spaced pages long and i actually really like it, so id appreciate it if you checked it out!

it’ll be under the cut but first i just wanted to clarify some things: this is about their characters on the smp, not them as real people. so just pretend that theres a c! in front of every name i mention lol. also, im still about a month behind on the smp and havent watched every stream, so if anything is inaccurate/not up to date i apologize

Two Sides of the Same Coin: A Tommy and Tubbo Analysis

Over the years, many fictional characters have been deemed two sides of the same coin; two things that are closely related regardless of how different they may seem. Tommy and Tubbo fit that description to a tee. Their positive and negative qualities balance each other out perfectly, something that allows them to bring about meaningful change when they’re together but causes chaos to reign when they’re apart, a fact that Dream used to his advantage during the exile arc.

One of the ways they balance each other out is in their leadership styles. Tommy leads with his heart and tends to let his emotions take control, while Tubbo has been known to lead with his head and make decisions based on logic rather than what he’s feeling at the time. An example of this was when he exiled Tommy to avoid violence and trouble for his country in the long run rather than letting his lifelong friendship with him cloud his judgement. By themselves, anyone who leads with their heart or head alone is bound to run into pitfalls, but being together allows the good qualities of these forms of leadership to shine through and the bad ones to cancel each other out: Tubbo acts as a voice of reason for Tommy and helps him think rationally, while Tommy helps Tubbo lead with more compassion to avoid becoming, in his own words, “the next Schlatt”.

In addition to this, some of their greatest flaws complement each other as well. Tommy is constantly regarded as being too stubborn, emotional, and angry, qualities that made Wilbur believe he would never be president and are the reason why Dream is scared of him. On the other hand, Tubbo is known to be a pushover, a “yes man” who, despite being able to stand his ground sometimes, typically gives in to others too easily. Just like Tommy, this quality made many believe he’d make a horrible president. However, the complementary nature of their friendship allows them to help one another and balance out each other's flaws: Tommy helps Tubbo stand his ground and make decisions for himself, while Tubbo helps Tommy avoid doing anything rash. A great example of this last statement is the aftermath of Tubbo’s execution, when Tommy was angry and started looking for the button to explode Manberg, despite his hesitancy to do so earlier, saying “Where’s the button? They fucked up for the last time”. However, Tubbo put a stop to this by telling him to go with him to Pogtopia.

There are many more examples of how they balance each other out from the times when they have been together, but even more can be seen when they're apart. Their separation was the root cause of all the chaos that occurred during and directly after the exile arc. Without Tommy and his warnings against becoming “the next Schlatt”, Quackity was able to take the helm in most major decisions and pressure Tubbo into violent political plans, despite one of the main reasons for exiling Tommy being to avoid violence. Tubbo only stood up to him when he realized one of his plans directly paralleled his execution under Schlatt’s rule. Meanwhile, without Tubbo there to support Tommy, he ended up teaming up with Technoblade, another thing Tubbo sought to avoid with the exile. Tommy’s habit of letting his emotions take over, not to mention his post-exile mental instability, and Technoblade’s penchant for violence and the destruction of L’Manberg proved to be a dangerous combination, since Technoblade not only failed to stop Tommy’s rash behavior but also encouraged it.

It is highly likely that Dream was not only aware of these facts but also motivated by them. This can be seen many times throughout the exile arc, as well as right before it began. Not only was Tommy’s crime arguably worthy of no more than the originally proposed three week probation, if Dream really wanted to unfairly punish Tommy, there are many arguably worse punishments he could’ve chosen, such as execution, forcing Tommy to give him one of his precious discs (though it’s not likely that Tommy would’ve given in to that easily), or the destruction of L’Manberg. However, Dream likely knew that, by separating Tommy and Tubbo, they would do his work for him and destroy L’Manberg from the inside. After physically separating them by successfully getting Tubbo to exile Tommy, Dream took it upon himself to emotionally separate Tommy from his best friend as much as possible by talking about how much better things were in L’Manberg without him there, breaking his spirit, and feeding him lies, such as the lie about what happened to Tubbo’s compass or his sabotaged beach party.

In addition, there is a small detail in Dream’s plan that is commonly overlooked: his mention of Technoblade's house. Without looking too much into it, it simply seems like an offhand comment made to perpetuate the idea that Dream was his friend. However, if Dream’s primary goal was to keep Tommy as isolated as possible from everyone else, it would make no sense for him to not only tell him how close by another person lived, but also give him directions to them, even if the person was one of the people Tommy hated the most. From this standpoint, it seems foolish, but it could actually be viewed as one of Dream’s smartest moves. From this, it can be inferred that Dream was not only aware of how destructive a Technoblade and Tommy teamup would be, but also encouraged it. For this same reason, he let Tommy stay in hiding with Technoblade, even after he told Ghostbur he knew he had been there. By doing this, Dream was able to twist Tommy’s volatility and aversion to the rules, the very qualities that made him the only person Dream feared, in his favor.

For all his flaws, Dream is a smart man, and he was able to realize what many others failed to: Tommy and Tubbo’s bond was the heart and soul of L’Manberg, one of the only things keeping it running. Without them together balancing each other out, they became powerful forces of mostly unintentional chaos and destruction, collapsing the country they loved and playing right into Dream’s hands. They are two sides of the same coin: despite how different they may seem, they are closely related, necessary to each other's ability to flourish, grow, and survive, and cannot be separated.

TL;DR: DO!! NOT!! SEPARATE THEM!!!!!!!!

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blueskrugs · 4 years ago

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That Don’t Sound Like You | Brock Boeser

title and inspiration come from the Lee Brice song of the same name. I like country music, okay? takes place roughly September 2015-August 2019. all games and other teammates are accurate.

because @captainkreider said “what if you write this for Brock” and I immediately had to rethink my priorities on who I will and will not write for. and then this happened.

length: 4.7 words

Girl, I’m glad you called

You met Brock early in your freshman year at University of North Dakota. He was always surrounded by people, popular and charismatic, even as a slightly awkward 18-year-old, but it seemed like he could, and would, talk to anyone who would listen.

You found that out for yourself when he plopped down a couple seats from you in some 100 level English lecture before leaning across the empty desk between you to introduce himself.

“I’m Brock,” he said with a grin.

You took a moment to assess him. His blond hair was tucked beneath a backwards snapback, looking every bit like a douche college athlete, but his blue eyes were kind, and his smile seemed genuine. You shot him a quick smile of your own before turning back to your notes.

“I’m Y/N,” you offered. Brock was still watching you closely; you flipped the page of your notebook.

Any further conversation was cut short by your professor coming in, his typical five minutes late. It was already the third week of class, and Brock had never sat near you before, usually choosing to sit more near the back, but you buried your confusion in favor of focusing on the lecture.

Brock kept sitting next to you, though, would start a conversation with you most days. It was a week and a half before he asked for your phone number, another week before he actually texted you to complain about how he didn’t understand an assigned reading. In the meantime, you’d learned that you hadn’t grown up far from each other in Minnesota– just a couple towns away from each other outside Minneapolis, his favorite color– blue, but only one highly specific shade, and how he’d been drafted by the Canucks but was still trying out the whole college thing.

“So,” Brock started one day in October. You hummed in response, not looking up from your notes– you were trying to review for the test you had after this lecture was over. Brock nudged your elbow, but you still didn’t look up at him. “Hey. Y/N.” Brock was starting to whine now, so you glanced up at him. “So, uh, we have our first home game this Saturday.”

You raised an eyebrow at Brock. He looked nervous, fidgeting with a hoodie string and chewing on his bottom lip. You poked him in the arm with your pen.

“Got something you wanna say, Boes?”

“Would you, y’know?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, Brock, I don’t know. Spit it out.”

“Do you wanna come to the game?” he finally managed.

Now, UND took hockey as seriously as some colleges took football, and you’d spent more than one conversation with Brock discussing hockey, so he knew you liked it. Of course you’d be at the game on Saturday. But Brock wasn’t asking if you were going as a hockey fan. He was asking if you’d come to see him play.

You grinned, and Brock ducked his head and refused to look at you. His cheeks looked a little pink. You poked him with your pen again, this time just below his ribs, and he squirmed and snatched the pen from your hand.

“Yeah, Brock, I’ll be there,” you assured him.

He threw your pen at you.

Brock scored a hat trick in front of the sold-out crowd and swept you up in his arms outside the arena.

That became the new normal for you two. You went to every home game to watch as Brock tore up the league as one of the best freshmen anyone had ever seen. He’d meet you outside the arena, and you’d end up at a diner with the rest of the team with Brock’s arm draped around your shoulder. The team accepted you into their fold easily enough, teasing and chirping you just as they would any other player. There was time spent alone with Brock, too, or as alone as you could get in a dorm building. It had started under the pretense of studying together, but over time, it usually ended under a pile of blankets and Grey’s Anatomy playing on one of your laptops.

Brock kissed you for the first time in early December, after the team swept the weekend against Denver. It was cold, and his breath brushed across your face in a white cloud when he leaned in, but his lips were warm against yours.

Not much changed after that, not really, except for the fact that Brock got much less shy about always wanting to be near you or touching you in some way, whether it was your knees pressed against each other beneath a table on a date, or a hand on your hip or linked with yours when you were hanging out with others.

He did trip over his own feet the first time he saw you wearing one of his hoodies, though.

You surprised Brock in Tampa in April for the Frozen Four finals, where he had the game winning goal, and three more assists to boot. You weren’t sure you had ever seen him smile as big as when you jumped into his arms and wrapped your legs around his waist after the game, Stretch and Drake and everyone else still screaming somewhere behind you.

Truck tires on a gravel road Laughing at the world, blasting my radio Cannonballs splashing in the water

Brock called you one afternoon in June, after life had settled down into the lazy days of summer. “What’s up, babe?” you asked, absently throwing a tennis ball for your dog out in the yard.

Brock hesitated. “Do you still wanna come out to the lake with us?”

You had talked about it, a little, back when it was still ungodly cold in North Dakota, and Brock had mentioned that his family was going to try and rent a place on a lake for a week or two in July. It had seemed so far away then, as distant future as graduating or Brock heading off to Vancouver, which feels foolish now, with July creeping closer every day.

“Yeah, of course,” you said.

The two of you talked about the future for the first time that week at Minnetonka, between bets of who could make the biggest splash, or turning up Brock’s playlists as loud as you could, yelling the words to country songs up to the clouds.

Brock wanted to stay at UND another year, use it to develop his game, but he whispered in the dark one night that he was scared of making it all the way to the NHL and not living up to expectations, no longer a bright star, but a supernova, left to fade into nothing.

You had dreams of your own, too. Graduating and getting a job in a big city, getting away from Minnesota and small towns where everyone knew everyone. California, maybe, or somewhere on the East Coast like D.C.

(Brock had made a face at you for that.)

You realized for the first time, too, that you just might be in love with Brock. You weren’t sure what to do with that realization, though, just tucked your face a little tighter into Brock’s shoulder, tried not to think about what you would do if Brock ever asked you to follow him to Vancouver. You weren’t sure you could give up your life plans for anyone.

July passed with days in the sun and nights near a bonfire, drowning in one of Brock’s hoodies as you sat in his lap under a blanket. You wished you could live in moments like those forever.

Sophomore year was different for both of you. You were busier with classes, and Brock was more focused on hockey than ever, determined not to let his freshman season be a fluke.

Not that anyone thought it would be.

Brock became an alternate captain. Continued to dominate on the ice, came back stronger after a couple of injuries. Brock Boeser was making a name for himself, and it was only a matter of time before everyone started paying attention.

The day after the team lost to Boston University in double overtime, the defending champs going out on their very first game of the tournament, Brock was home in Minnesota, signing an entry-level contract, and playing his first game as a Vancouver Canuck.

He had kissed you goodbye on Thursday before the team left for Fargo, with an “I love you,” murmured against your lips, his hands tangled in your hair, the promise of “see you soon” unspoken but understood between you.

But you sat on your couch and watched as Brock took to the ice for the team that believed in him against the team he grew up watching, you started to wonder just how soon that would be, and if you’d ever get your Brock back, or if you’d lost his love to the city of Vancouver.

Brock scored a goal that night. You’d always known he would fit right in in Vancouver.

Brock broke up with you that summer. You had seen it coming, maybe since last July, when you realized that your lives were heading in different directions, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. You were supposed to go up to Minnetonka again, but you never made it that far before he was standing on your doorstep, hands shoved deep in your pockets.

Part of you wanted to insist that you could make the distance work, and maybe you could, maybe Brock thought it, too, but you couldn’t think of the words.

“I love you,” you said instead.

You dropped a Target bag full of Brock’s things on his parents’ front porch, hoodies and beanies and other things that were too hard to keep, before you headed back to UND for the fall.

You kept in touch some, congratulatory texts (you) or pictures of the weather (him). You received dozens of Snapchats during All-Star Weekend in 2018, especially of the adorable dog he ended up adopting– you had vetoed changing his name from Cider– but you were pretty sure he was sending them to everyone.

Until you got one simply captioned “would be better with you here.” You stared at the picture– the view of Tampa outside his hotel room window– until the time ran out, and it disappeared. Then another came in, and you opened it quickly, unthinkingly. “Not quite like the last time we were in Tampa together tho.”

The only time you’d been to Tampa had been nearly two years before for the Frozen Four.

The picture disappeared again, and you didn’t know how to respond. So you didn’t.

You graduated a semester early and made plans to move to the East Coast and get a job, start your life for real. No one commented on how you were about as far away from Brock and Vancouver as you could get.

You were doing laundry at your parents’ house, packing most of what you owned in your car to move, when you came across a green UND hockey T-shirt. It still smelled a little like Brock, even though it had been buried in your room for years. You spared half a thought to wonder if Brock ever even missed it before you throw it in the washing machine.

You were surprised, then, when you got a text– a real one, too, not a Snapchat message– from Brock later that summer. You had never responded to those messages he had sent during the All-Star Game, and he had stopped sending things after a while. That had been over a year ago.

Brock’s message was simple, just a “hey, how have you been?” You wondered if he even knew you moved, and you were immediately suspicious of ulterior motives.

You left him on read for a couple of hours, before responding, and your message was short, curt. Your suspicions were proved right when he responded within half an hour.

“so” “Some of the guys from UND are coming up north for a couple days” “and they’ve been making some noise about seeing you”

You sighed. You were too tired for playing games, talking coyly, pretending like you were anything more than a couple of exes, practically strangers at this point. You pressed the call button below Brock’s name, realized for the first time that you’d never removed the green heart emoji from his contact.

“Y/N?” Brock sounded surprised, as if he hadn’t been the one to text you first.

“Why now, Brock?” you asked. Why do you still care, is what you didn’t.

“Stetch won’t shut up about wanting to see you, and some of the other guys picked up the chorus,” Brock said. He sounded as tired as you felt. It may have been years since you had last seen some of his teammates from UND, it certainly sounded like they haven’t changed much.

You went quiet, chewing on your bottom lip. Brock rushed to fill the silence.

“You don’t have to come. I just- I don’t know what I was thinking. I shouldn’t have texted, I��m sorry.” His voice faded slightly, like he’d pulled the phone away from his ear to hang up.

And, well, you were going to blame what you said next on the fact that it was well after midnight and that you’d been awake for too many consecutive hours.

“When is everyone coming up?”

Brock was silent, not even the sound of his breathing coming over the line. You checked to make sure he hadn’t, in fact, ended the call.

“Uh, second week of August,” he finally said.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Brock echoed. You could picture the crease between his eyebrows.

“Yeah, ‘okay.’ I’ll think about it,” you said.

You didn’t know why you said that.

You didn’t know why you booked a flight to Minneapolis, or why you were actually looking forward to it. Even when Brock texted to warn you that some of his Canucks teammates would be there with the old faces from UND.

You didn’t know what you were doing as you stood in the entryway of a lake house in Minnesota. Out on the deck, you could see some familiar faces, but you had never felt so out of place in your life.

This was a bad idea. No, it was a terrible idea. You weren’t in college anymore. These weren’t your friends, your people. They had all moved on with their lives, and so had you. A weekend on a lake in Minnesota would only bring back the memories and the regrets of years gone by.

You were just debating turning around and pretending that you had never even come when Brock stepped in and saw you standing there, looking like a fool. He looks surprised to see you. You take another step into the house.

“Hey, Y/N!” The surprise is gone nearly as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with what looks like genuine happiness. “C’mon, everyone’s outside.”

You follow silently, taking in Brock’s bare, tanned shoulders, the way his hair looks blonder from hours spent out on the lake. For a moment, you’re both 19 again.

Stetch yells when he sees you first, and then you’re being mobbed by hockey players. You only know a couple from UND– Stetch, Drake, and Josty, to start– and the rest are from Vancouver, introductions blurring together in a mess of faces and nicknames– Tuna, Petey, and Chris, who had definitely been called Dad by at least three different people.

You finally manage to break away and head for a drink, but Brock follows you.

“I’m glad you came,” he says, and you believe him, look into his eyes, painfully earnest and real and blue like the reflection of the sky on the lake. You offer a weak smile in return, not sure if you can say the same, not yet. Brock steps closer and opens the lid of the cooler you’re standing next to. “Jess says you ended up in D.C. after all. How is that? You happy?”

His question catches you off-guard, and you hesitate, too long. “Yeah,” you say finally. “Yeah, it’s great.” Everything I’ve ever wanted, except you’re not there, is what you don’t say. You wonder briefly if he can still see right through you.

Brock’s head is buried in the cooler as he digs through the ice, but you can still see the way his shoulders go up like they always do when he’s frowning. That’s a yes, then.

“What’s the difference between a White Claw and a Truly, anyway?” he muses instead of calling you out, before surfacing with one of each in his hands. He offers them both to you, and you take the Truly– wild berry, your favorite, not that Brock would have any reason to know that– and leave him the White Claw. He cracks it open and takes a long drink. You tear your eyes away from the line of his throat as he swallows.

“Boyfriend couldn’t make it?” Brock asks pointedly. Damn, he still follows you on Instagram.

You take a drink yourself instead of answering right away. “Couldn’t get off work,” you say. Which isn’t a lie, not really, but you hadn’t even asked, just told him you would be visiting home for the week. You didn’t think he’d love the idea of spending a weekend with a bunch of hockey players, especially when the one who’d invited you happened to be your ex-boyfriend.

Brock just blinks at you for a moment. “Well, I’m glad you could make it,” he says again, just as honest as before.

When the next person asks if you’re happy in D.C., you’re not quite as off-guard, and you manage to smile when you answer this time. Brock is watching you from across the deck, though, and you wonder if the smile looked as fake as it felt to everyone else, or if it was just Brock.

You’re arguing with Josty about something ridiculous, when Emma, Troy’s girlfriend, sees you for the first time.

“Oh my God, you cut your hair! It’s so cute!” she said before wrapping you up in a hug.

When she lets you go, you sweep your hair over one shoulder, an old habit from when it hung halfway down your back; it barely brushed your shoulders now.

“Thought it was time for a change,” you say, “and my boyfriend really likes it this way.”

Next to you, Tyson frowns and mumbles something about finding Brock. You and Emma both watch him go, a little confused.

I know it’s been a while, I don’t mean to pry But when I asked you if you’re happy, I didn’t hear a smile, and that don’t sound like you

You’re sitting on the dock with your feet in the water that night when Brock settles next to you. Up at the house, everyone is either asleep or on their way to it. You’re both quiet for a moment, just the sound of crickets and the water lapping against the dock.

“I wasn’t sure you’d actually come,” Brock says lowly.

You breathe out a laugh. “I wasn’t either, not until I was actually here,” you admit.

“Why did you come?”

“Why did you invite me?” you counter. It was the thing that kept bothering you about all this. Why had Brock decided to reach out now, after so long, after you’d moved on?

Brock sighs. “Hadn’t heard from you in a while.” It’s almost defensive, the way he says it.

“Not like you tried very hard to catch up ever,” you say, and it’s mean, because you had stopped responding first, but you hadn’t known what else to do, how else to handle the heartbreak you had to relive with every text.

“You fucking stopped talking to me!” Brock says, and, yeah, you deserve that, deserve the anger in his voice. You don’t expect to hear sadness, too, but you do.

“What else was I supposed to do, Brock? Keep torturing myself with every text I sent?” You can’t bring yourself to be mad. You tilt your chin to look up at the stars instead, pretend you can’t feel Brock’s eyes on you. The stars are so much brighter out here, back home. “You were off chasing your dream, so it was time I went after mine.”

There’s silence for a moment. Then, “Why’d you come here, Y/N?”

“I don’t know. One last hurrah for when we were all in college? For freshman year when the future seemed so bright? For when I still thought having a good job in a good city with a guy who loves me would make me happy, but sometimes I feel like I’m in the wrong city with the wrong guy?”

You get up before Brock can answer and leave him sitting on the dock in the dark.

Morning comes, and you’re not sure the conversation with Brock even happened, except for the fact that Brock is alternating between watching you intently and refusing to make eye contact. Chris makes everyone breakfast, and you now understand why everyone was calling him Dad. You settle next to Troy, lean your head on his shoulder.

“Did I somehow do something to make Petey not like me?” you ask, watching him talk quietly to Brock at the other end of the table.

“Nah,” Stetch says, taking a bite of bacon. “His English still isn’t great, and his default resting face makes it look like he hates everyone.” He pauses, takes another bite. “Well, and the fact that you broke our boy Brock’s heart. He’s sensitive, don’t ya know?” His tone is light, teasing, but his words make you freeze.

You gasp, too loud for the morning air. A couple people glance over at you, but you’re turning to Stetch, who at least looks like he realizes his mistake.

“Brock broke up with me,” you hiss.

Troy barely glances down the table at Brock, but you still catch it. For a split second, you consider just getting up and leaving, but settle for glaring at Brock, who doesn’t look up. His cheeks still flush like he can feel your eyes on him.

“I no longer want to be a part of this conversation,” Stetch says, making a move to get up, but you grab his wrist. He winces but stays sitting. “Look, he came back for his rookie year and was always kinda quiet-” You scoff. “-but none of us asked any questions, and then after All-Star he said you’d stopped responding to his texts.” Stetch finishes with a shrug.

“I stopped answering because I was still in love with him and stuck in North Dakota after he broke up with me that summer, dumbass. What the hell else was I supposed to do after he told me he wished I were at the All-Star Game with him? I was never going to be able to follow Brock to Vancouver, and he made it pretty clear he never really wanted me to, anyway.”

You didn’t realize that most of the conversations around the table had gone quiet until it was too late. Brock had gone pale. You had never wanted a confrontation, not here, but it was looking inevitable. Everyone else seemed to sense this, too, because soon the table was cleared, and it was just you and Brock.

“Why do you stay if you’re not happy?” is what Brock says first.

“I- what?”

Brock smiles at you, but it’s sad. “Do you think I can’t tell?”

“I am happy,” you say, defensive. And you are, or you will be one day, once you can finally stop thinking about Brock, about all the what-ifs, the possibilities that are long gone. You were getting there, too, before you came back to Minnesota for this weekend and everything came crashing down around your ears. Still, maybe this is the closure you needed.

“Oh yeah?” Brock says in return, and it's a taunt, really, mean in a way that he’s never been with you.

“Since when do you have any right to my happiness? What do you want me to say, Brock? That I always knew we were never meant to work out, but I fell in love with you anyway? That I went to D.C. and got everything I wanted, but once I had it, it didn’t seem right anymore? They say you never forget your first love, and, dammit, it’s really hard when yours is living his dream and tearing it up in the NHL. Is that what you want to hear, Brock? That I’ll never really get over you, even as I fall in love again, resign myself to the fact that someone else is going to fall in love with you someday, and be everything for you I couldn’t?”

Brock is frozen at the other end of the table. You want to jump in the lake, stay underwater until your lungs burn and your tears are hidden. You want to get in your rental car and drive, drive all the way to Minneapolis and keep going until you’re out of Minnesota and never look back. You want to kiss Brock, for old time’s sake, and you never want to see his face again.

He still hasn’t said anything, so you turn and go inside, past everyone pretending like they hadn’t just been watching everything. You’re throwing everything back in your bag when Brock stumbles up the stairs. You pause, cross your arms, and raise an eyebrow at him.

“Shit, wait,” he pants.

You can’t hold back the smirk. “Aren’t you supposed to be a professional athlete?” you say, almost without thinking.

Brock flips you off as he leans against the doorframe, but it’s half-hearted.

“You can’t just say shit like that and then fucking walk away,” he says, and it comes out more like a whine. “I just- I had no idea. Should’ve probably, yeah, but-” he stops, collects his thoughts. “What did you mean when you said you could never follow me to Vancouver?”

“Would you even have asked,” you say, which isn’t an answer at all.

“I don’t know, you were always talking about all of your plans, and I never wanted to stop you. I didn’t know if you’d ever want to follow me.” And, finally, for the first time in years, it seems like you two understand each other.

“Of course I did,” you say softly, and Brock looks up at you, surprised. “I just didn’t know that then. And then I didn’t think you wanted me, not when I was just some girl from college.”

“You were never just some girl from college,” Brock says quickly. He rolls his eyes. “You wanna know why I asked if you were happy? You cut your hair.” Brock sounds pained, and you remember all the times he would play with your hair while you cuddled on the couch or in bed. “Since when do you change something like that for a guy?”

“And I wouldn’t have had to change for you? After I’d graduated, if you wanted me to come to Vancouver for you?”

Brock’s recoils, your words like a slap to the face, but it’s not as vindicating as you thought it would be. “It’s not just the hair. It’s the way you talk, the way you smile. What happened to the girl I knew?”

And that’s the problem. You’re not the girl he knew, not anymore. You’ve both grown up, lived life a little more. You might still love Brock, but you love the Brock from North Dakota, not the one who’s been in Vancouver for two years. You don’t know that Brock, and maybe you could love him, but that’s not for you to find out. It’s not fair to anyone. It just took you coming out to the lake to realize that.

So you smile at Brock and say, “She got her heart broken and left North Dakota behind.” But you follow Brock back downstairs, spend the day out on the water, feeling settled for the first time since you got there, maybe since you had last spoken to Brock way back in 2018.

That town, that job, that guy You can leave them behind, girl, you know you’re better than that

The boys build a bonfire after dinner, as the sun sets over the lake, and someone breaks out the ingredients for s’mores.

“Y’know,” Brock says, resting his hand on your knee after you’ve settled into a chair. His hand is warm through the blanket draped over your lap. “For what it’s worth, there would always be a place for you in Vancouver.”

Maybe there would be, but you weren’t sure that that place was somewhere you belonged. You don’t say that, though, just settle your feet in Brock’s lap and take the marshmallow that’s being offered to you.

There’s a life waiting for you on the other side of the continent, and it just might be the one you were always meant to have.

#cait writes things #brock boeser #brock boeser fic #brock boeser imagine #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #brock boeser fanfic #vancouver canucks fanfic

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emmies-archives · 4 years ago

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Quirk Marriage

Part One

Shoto Todoroki X Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of being kidnapped

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Endeavor buys you at an auction and arranges a quirk marriage between you and Shoto. Childhood friends turned to fiancés, Shoto forcefully rejects it.

You never expected to be here. The lights. The music. The people. It was all foreign. It was wrong. You couldn’t fathom how you got yourself in this situation. You racked your brain for what steps you could’ve taken to prevent this from happening.

The small room adorned like a dressing room that you sat in would’ve felt comforting to you, the pastel blue walls and warms lights usually would offer you solace. This was a space you could find yourself able to relax in. You would too if it weren’t for the chain that seemingly sprouted from the wall leading to the cuffs that wrapped around your wrists. Holding you in your seat like a prisoner.

Many hours had passed since anyone had come to check on you. They had offered you refreshments several times. Like you were simply a passenger on a long flight. No one seemed to see what was wrong with the situation. Not a single person that entered the room acknowledged the fact that you were quite literally handcuffed to a chair.

As if being locked in a room was bad enough, for some reason you couldn’t activate your quirk either. It was the cuffs that held your wrists together. They held some power over you, taking away the single thing that could help you in this situation.

Four years you had spent training at UA Highschool. Four years you underwent intense mind-altering lessons for you to master your quirk. Your quirk was transmutation; the ability to alter the state of something. A small example would be changing water to rock or metal to plastic. With enough practice and drive, you had the ability to change the state of a quirk attack. If someone with an electricity quirk attacked, you could simply change the electrical impulses to sound waves. So far, you have only managed it a few times.

The soft silence of the room was eerie. You could hear the faint sounds of a waltz-like song seeping in from the ducts. Everything was so odd; it was like you were thrown back in time. Even the clothes you were forced to wear, it was a gown. A muted mauve fabric littered shimmering golden vines weaved to make it seem like they were crawling down your frame.

They had done your hair too, tying it back out of your face in some style. You couldn’t see what it looked like, but it was tight and didn’t do anything to ease the tension that picked at the nape of your neck.

You could feel it in your bones; the trepidation. Whatever was about to happen was not going fare well for you. Whatever that was waiting for you outside the dressing room, was wrong. The ache in your core wasn’t just nausea, it was where the understanding that you weren’t going back to your old life chose to rest.

This little room that had held you in its grasp for hours felt like limbo. Like it existed outside of time, or it didn’t exist at all. Maybe you would go mad before anyone came back. Maybe that would be better than whatever came next; whenever it would happen.

A sharp knock at the door made your eyes snap open; you didn’t even realize you had them closed. After a moment several people entered the small room. They looked different than the ones before; they looked intense. You couldn’t find your ability to speak when you looked at them. Not that you needed to, the only question you found yourself wanting to ask would be answered soon.

The chain came loose from the cuffs and you were pulled from the room. One of them stood on either side of you, another leading ahead. The path they took you on was through a large darkened hallway, pictures of different people plastered the wall the entire length of the hallway.

The music grew louder as you walked with them. If you had use of your quirk, maybe you would fight against them, try to get away. It wasn’t there for you to call on; blocked by whatever mechanics were placed on your wrists. So, you found absolutely no motivation to try to shake free of the people around you.

The closed hall opened suddenly into a grand room. You found yourself trying to shade your eyes as the lights from the ceiling bore down on you. Noise erupted from the room. The people escorting you brought you to a halt and it was then you took in your surroundings. You were on a stage facing hundreds of people all standing, staring straight at you. Their gazes sent a sharp chill down your spine. A hush fell over the crowd when the music stopped.

“Alright, Alright. Ladies and gentlemen welcome our next guest! L/n F/n!” A loud voice sounded from every corner of the room. Soft clapping came from the crowd at the announcement. You tried to speak, to ask what was happening, to ask where you were but you found your lips were sealed. It was someone’s quirk holding your words in your throat.

“This lovely lady is a graduate of UA Highschool! Now, she does have quite the intriguing quirk.” The voice began explaining the basics of how your quirk worked. Something flickered in the corner of your eye. There was a large screen on the wall behind you, it was playing your last fight between you and a student from another class in the sports festival in your fourth year. The fight that caused your victory.

That was one of the greatest times you had been able to change another’s quirk. You had been facing a student with the ability to produce and manipulate metal. One of their final moves was wrapping themselves in metal shaped like a knight’s armor and charge their downed opponent, which happened to be you.

You would’ve lost if you hadn’t taken a chance. You would’ve lost if your chance failed. In a split second, you managed to alter the metal that protected them to be magnetized. Hoping that the walls of the stadium were built out of steel. They were and your chance worked. Your opponent was forced to a stop and in a moment was sent flying back. The magnetic pull of their armor wasn’t strong enough to bring the stadium walls to them, so because of their lesser weight, the magnetized armor was forced to the nearest wall. With a slam that shuddered through the entire stadium, your opponent was out of the ring. Deeming your winner.

Nostalgia warmed you at the video that played behind you. Your attention was focused so intensely on one of your greatest moments. You didn’t even hear the shouts coming from the crowd. One deafening boom shook you from your focus.

“30,000!” A deep thunderous voice sounded drowning out everything and everyone else.

“Well. That was certainly unexpected!” A voice spoke through the speakers. “That is much more than 10,000, are you sure?”

At this point, the confusion in you felt like it would take over every one of your senses. A chilling heat flooded through the room. Through the light shining in your eyes, you could just make out someone making their way to the stage. When you were able to see them clearly the man finally spoke again.

“Oh, yes. I am certain.” The words fell like hammers from his lips as he locked his piercing blue eyes on yours. You knew those eyes. Somehow the fire that churned in them turned your bones to ice every time you saw them. You stared at the only hero you despised, Endeavor.

You were taken immediately off stage and back through the hall, skipping the room you were in before, however. The one you were stopped at seemed to be an office of some sort. Shortly after you were placed in the room, the doors opened again.

“I was surprised that your parents signed you up for this, L/n.” You turned at his voice. Endeavor exuded dominance from him like the flames that danced on his body. It was quite hard to look at him without shuddering.

The voice that was trapped in your throat before, you found yourself finally able to use it. “Why am I here? What is going on?”

The wicked laugh that fell from his mouth stilled you completely. He tilted his head when he brought his eyes to look back up at you. “I just bought you, Y/n. For quite a lot too.”

“What?” It seemed that was the only word you could get past your lips. You felt your knees weaken at his words. “What?”

“Don’t act foolish, Y/n. You know exactly what I mean.”

You did, you just didn’t want to believe it. You couldn’t believe it. Ice filled your blood as the realization weighed on you. This is what you were waiting in that room the size of a cupboard for. This is what you had been dreading for however long you’d been trapped.

“How?” Your voice was only but a whisper now.

“Your parents’ views happened to line up with mine perfectly.” The smug smile that he wore on his face ate through your burning skin. You turned away from him, unable to look at his features anymore.

You stared at the window on the wall you now faced. It was nighttime now. When you had last looked outside, it had been early morning. How much time had passed since you arrived here? Why were your parents even on track with this? You could see the shock on your features as your reflection stared back at you from the dark glass. This was a dream. It had to be.

So wrapped up in your own thoughts, you didn’t even hear the knock at the door. You didn’t see the reflection of someone else entering the room. You didn’t feel the slight chill the air developed. Your awareness trapped inside of you as panicked thoughts took over.

“Ah, thank you for joining us.” Endeavor spoke barely reaching your ears. Someone responded though it sounded like faint mumbling. A conversation started between the two. It was long, several minutes passed before the other person noticed you. “Oh, she is the reason I called you to meet me.”

Endeavor pressed a hand on your shoulder turning you away from the window. You were snapped out of your thoughts at his touch, jerking away from his hand.

Your eyes tore from the floor at the other person's voice. “Who is that?”

“This is Y/n.” Endeavor spoke slowly, grinning at the boy who stared straight toward you.

Something pulled you to meet his eyes, his two-toned eyes. One deep grey; the other icy blue. His hair split with his eyes as well; snowy with grey, crimson with blue. The ground beneath your feet grew slightly unstable at the realization. You felt short of breath, unable to tear your gaze from the young man who stood just feet in front of you. You knew who he was, he graduated from the same high school a few years before you.

“I have gone ahead and arranged something my father did for me.” At Endeavor’s words, the boy’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening. “Meet your Fiance, Shoto.”

“What did you say.” Shoto sneered through his gritted teeth. He knew who you were too, your first year you had faced him in a sparring match along with the rest of your class. You had trained with him on your teacher’s request years ago. He was quite familiar with you. The two of you were close in high school.

Endeavor laughed sending tension down your spine. You were dreading those words. Shoto took a step back when Endeavor took one toward him.

“Don’t.” Shoto was fuming, steam rising from his left side. You wanted nothing more than to be out of the cuffs. Whatever small thing that had been between you and Shoto in high school was definitely wiped away from Endeavors actions now.

“You two have so much potential to create something stronger then all of us.”

Shoto turned abruptly toward the door. “I will never be a part of this.”

“She has a unique quirk; you have a powerful one. History will repeat.” The endeavor started and Shoto stopped turning to look at his deranged father once more. You could feel Endeavor's energy turn dark next to you, the grin on his face almost sinister. “Just like me and your mother. You don’t want to hurt your mother again. Do you, Shoto?”

The chill that hung in the room before was now replaced with ice plastering every surface in the room. It even dusted the shoes you wore. With no other words, Shoto left the room, the door freezing shut on his way out.

Endeavor looked at you as the ice started to melt around his feet. “Don’t get your hopes up, Y/n. I’ll make him come around. I do own you now.”

#todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki imagine #todoroki imagine #bnha todoroki #bnha shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha headcanons #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki oneshot #quirk marriage

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years ago

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Grand Novice

Loki Laufeyson x Grandmaster’s child!reader

warnings: death, weapons,

a/n: obviously y/n is a grown person in this?? i just didn’t know how to label them correctly ???? you feel???

prompt:

“I like him.” You told your father when the newest arrival of Sakaar had been dismissed.

“Well, good for him! He’s safe!” Grandmaster cheered to you, who didn’t take to many as quick as you had to Loki. “For now.”

“Oh, stop it, dad!” You giggled while Topaz stood behind you with the melting wand, offering it to you as if you were hiding your true feelings. “What about what I just said made you think we should melt him? Put that thing away!” You shook your head and gazed upon the crowd to see your new guest acclimating nicely to the subjects of Sakaar.

“Why don’t you go sit with him for a while, my dear?” Your father nudged you in his direction, but you didn’t need much more than that. With your robe dragging on the floor behind you, you parted the crowd and seated yourself right next to the Asgardian.

“Hello there, your highness.” Loki smirked when you leaned on his shoulder, but he genuinely didn’t mind it a bit. “How has your day been?”

“Oh, just wonderful.” You reached out for his hand shamelessly while other Sakaarians watched with hidden gazes. Now, Loki wasn’t one to get uncomfortable so easily, but he also wasn’t one to rush into something like this.

It’d be foolish to reject someone in a position of power, wouldn’t it? Loki was just given a spectacular opportunity, there was no passing this up.

“And why’s that?” He questioned, lifting your hand to his lips for a respectful kiss that only wooed you more.

“Well, I met a man who might just be perfect for me.” You weren’t one to hide your feelings, Loki appreciated that much. Although a liar could read another like the back of his hand, a truth-teller was impossible to figure out. At least, for him.

Maybe the challenge was another reason he grew attracted to you, because by the second week that he had been stuck on this miserable planet, he’d actually started to care for you. His romantic gestures were not forced, he had begun to open up, and he couldn’t spend a moment away from you.

The day that Thor arrived was a different story, though. Loki had mentioned his brother died recently, but now he was an eligible contender! Funny how the universe works.

“Are you worried for him, my darling.” You inquired as you played with his hair, he was noticeably zoned out, you’d like to help him any way you could.

“No, not at all.” Your boyfriend had brushed your concern off. “Thank you for asking, though. You’re too kind.” He placed a kiss on your forehead after cradling your face.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you practically melted around him, and you’ve seen people get melted before, “would you like to watch him contend, then? We’ll have the best view in the stadium!” You hugged him tightly and awaited his obvious agreement, he couldn’t help but giggle at your excitement. Had he truly gone soft?

Loki’s life had truly flipped once his brother had broken loose and rampaged above the streets of your beloved home. You were outraged until Loki offered to take his brother down, declaring it was for you.

Someone like yourself didn’t work very hard, you had better things to do. You were of a higher class, but you weren’t completely useless. You had much more energy than the Grandmaster, which is why you spent it on following the tracks of Thor, leading you to Loki suffering a constant shock on the floor.

“Oh, no!” You rushed over to assist him, grabbing the remote nearby and releasing him from the painful device. “Are you okay, my love? Please tell me you’re alright.” You hopped on top of him and pressed your ear against his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat continue on. His arms engulfed you in a real act of selfless love, he couldn’t believe his life had come to this. It was more unfortunate that you had no idea that this was the first he had ever felt this way.

“I’m alright, thanks to you.” The crown of your head collected a kiss and you rolled off of him.

“That scoundrel will pay for this!” You clenched your fists and ran to a ship equipped with weaponry, but Loki had done a bit of contemplating while he was confined to electrocution. Maybe he had gone mad, or maybe this was a turning point?

“Y/N, wait.” He sighed, catching your attention fairly quickly. You spun around and ran right back to him, holding his arms as he placed his hands on your hips. “Before me, when was the last time you were happy an Sakaar? And I mean truly happy?”

“I...” You blinked through thoughts as you tried to pinpoint an answer in your mind. “Why?”

“The Grandmaster, he thinks you’re happy, but you’re not. I can see it in your eyes, my dear.” He traced his tired fingers down your cheekbones. “Your father, he doesn’t give you all the freedom you desire, does he?”

“No, but—” You were cut off before you couldtry to defend him.

“We’re more alike than we appear, mine was the same way.” Loki explained to you. “I ask you this because...I need to go back to Asgard. I have a sister who is about to doom our people, but I don’t want to go without you.” You were caught off-guard by Loki’s change of plans, however, they were enticing. “You’ve never been off of this planet, I can show you the rest of the galaxy, give me a chance!” Now he held your hands so enthusiastically, yet so gentle. He knew he was getting through to you.

“Loki, my love,” you looked away and to the collection of your father’s ships, then took a pause as Loki’s expression grew concerned while studying yours, “We’ll take the biggest one, but we may need to take some of the prisoners for backup if we want to save your people.” You finally agreed and witnessed Loki breathe a sigh of relief and pull you into such an emotionally deep and serious kiss, you couldhave cried.

“I’ve never once in my life felt this way about anyone before you, y/n. You have succeeded in stealing my heart away from me and I couldn’t even see it coming.” His own way of making a declaration of love was all you could dream about, but you were running out of time here.

The plan was going better than you could have thought once the contenders burst through the doors, that was one thing off of your list.

“Great for you to join us, all! Would you like to come with us to help Thor?” You asked the group, who had their suspicions about you.

“Aren’t you the Grandmaster’s child? Is this a trick?” The one made out of rock had asked, earning agreement from the group.

“Y/N’s had a change of heart.” Loki kept one of your hands in his while he squeezed it tightly. You couldn’t tell if he was comforting you or himself, but at least it was guaranteed that you’d be sticking together.

“Oh. Alright then.” The Kronan understood without anymore questions, easy enough.

“Great! Everyone in that big ship now! We’re already late!” You led the army away, Loki supposed that leadership was in your blood. It came so easily to you, and it was a smidge attractive, too. What can he say? Power will always be his first love.

You’d never seen combat through your own two eyes, but you had begged Topaz to teach you how to use “big guns,” so you made do with what you had.

“Scrapper 142, would you be willing to trade places?” You called to her as she rode in the sky with your father’s ship.

“We aren’t on Sakaar anymore, your highness! I’m not a scrapper here.” She retorted, making your face heat even more than the exhaustion had done.

“My apologies! Please forgive me, I’ve better start getting used to life off of Sakaar.” You told her as she made room for you to use the exhilarating weapon. “Will you be flying?”

“Hopefully,” she said as she got control of the craft, “I’d like to keep this thing in the air for as long as I can.” It was a rocky start, but you trusted her for it. And she was beginning to trust you, as well. You weren’t a complete basket case like the Grandmaster, you’d be capable of changing. You could become a dear friend.

The ship crashed.

“Y/N!” Loki came rushing your way as the ship exploded in a multicolored blaze behind you. “Are you alright? Let’s get you up.” He helped you to your feet, but you were in no mood to slow down. Honestly, this was the most fun you’d had in ages.

“I’m more alive than ever!” You looked over his shoulder to take in the commotion. “Do you have any other weapons I could use?”

“Would...a dagger work?” It was a simple gesture, but you’d appreciate it to the end of your days after you plucked the blade from his hand. You’d never fought with a dagger, but there was no harm in trying. Yes, there was. But fortunately, fortune was on your side. The fun never lasts though, that was a fact. “Might I suggest you help evacuate instead, darling?”

“I suppose that’s an option!” You figured he’d realized just how dangerous hand-to-hand combat would be for someone without experience, but you were still living in some sort of fantasy land, you needed to be grounded.

So you rooted for them from the sidelines, helping people onto your ship. It was extremely hard to concentrate at times, especially when you couldn’t find Loki out there. A little warning that he was running off, that would’ve been nice.

And then there was an explosion that really rattled your bones, you’d never been in so much danger before. That’s when Loki darted straight towards you and each of you hopped into the ship.

“Are you hurt?” He moved his hands up and down your body to check for any injuries, but you insisted on doing the same.

“No, no, I’m fine. Are you?” While both of you were clutching onto each other, you shared another passionate kiss, glad that you both were still in good health together. Now the two of you merely spectated to destruction of the planet he had called home. “I’m sorry about Asgard.”

“No, I am.” He lowered his head. “I imagined a life with you here, but those plans will have to change.”

“That’s alright,” your tired voice softened once you laid your head on his shoulder, “we’ll make it work.”

—————

Loki didn’t live long enough to build a life with you, Thanos made sure of that. The entire reason you left your homeworld was to be with him, now you were stranded in space without a plan for your future. Who knew what this galaxy held? You’d been so naïve to run into the unknown, but there was only one thing left to do now, and that was get revenge.

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedficrecs // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @spideyandtheboys //

#loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson #marvel #avengers #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #avengers imagine

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mcmoth · 3 years ago

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So... I just found the song Theseus by The oh hellos, which... really surprised I hadn't found it sooner, being both a dsmp and the oh hellos fan, but oh well. Anyways, I just wanted to ramble about how this song fits c!Tommy, cause my god... the animatic I could make with this,,,

Oh, and this was originally a YouTube comment, btw, so it's maybe less expansive or personal than my usual rambles here would be. I just thought to actually rather post this on tumblr and delete the comment as to not add to the pile of dsmp comments cluttering the original song's feedback ^^ here y'all go:

At the edges of my fingers

Never quite closing round it

Oh, that peace like a river

Always going, but never getting

- How c!Tommy is constantly on the move, always preparing the next plan, always striving for some closure, how his two main priorities right now are safety and honesty - peace - and he tries so hard to get it, always, but in the end, never seems to succeed.

Seems like maybe it's not all that much a place

As it is a way

And ways don't ever seem to want to

Stay too still for too long

- Reminds me heavy of L'manburg. At the start of it, Wilbur did say that L'manburg wasn't a place, it was it's people, it's ideals. Words over violence, fighting back against oppressive authority, and seeking a family. And that's still what c!Tommy holds close to this day. But... as we all know. L'manburg, as it stood, didn't last long in these idealistic hopes.

Isn't that what it's all about?

The slow trickling thaw that sets the banks in half

The sweet melody it makes when the canyons crack

I wanna give it all I've got, and I want nothing

I want nothing back

-The "I wanna give it all i've got, and I want nothing, I want nothing back" makes me envision the season 1 finale, when Tommy tried so hard to fight for L'manburg, against all odds. And as Techno shouted at him to give up on being a hero, he just yelled back that he never wanted to be one, didn't want to be anything, rather "just wanted L'manburg back". For all of them.

Also, the first 3 lines give off cool imagery - the division between the dsmp and L'manburg, the war, the split sides after the election for the "trickling thaw that sets the banks in half", and Wilbur's words and symphony, once hopeful, turned miserable, as it echoes against Pogtopia's walls for "melody it makes when the canyons crack".

Whatever kingdom come, it probably won't come quick

No mighty clarion to announce it

No single use ark to discard in an instant

Like Theseus's ship, we'll fix the busted bits

- makes me think of new L'manburg, of everyone trying to rebuild after the destruction - constructing on top of the remains. Integrating the losses into their future. The creation comes slow, and without fanfare - the healthy bit of it, at least. But that's what's important about it - being able to take something slow for once, and just... working towards something again.

'Til it's both nothing like and everything

It's always been

It's a wonder we expect a thing to

Stay the same at all

- Theseus' ship is a metaphor for how, if you take something apart, one by one, gradually changing it's parts 'till it's all replaced, is the ship still the same ship? Or is it something entirely different now? And I feel like that's an interesting way to view c!Tommy - so much has happened to him, all lives lost. He's lost his spark, he's regained it again, different now. He's lost his friends, he's regained them again, different now. He's lost his brother, he regained him again, different now. So many labels have been assigned to him - hero, liability, toy... is he even Tommy anymore, misaligned pieces of what used to be a full puzzle? Or... is it that, after everything, it's still just him...

Maybe that's what it's all about

We keep fixing what we know is only bound to break

What's worth saving is never worth letting go to waste

I want to mend what I've got, instead of throwing away

- This is so relevant for c!Tommy. Whatever is important to him, he refuses to throw away. The discs, his relationship with Tubbo, trying to reconcile with Techno, not giving up on Wilbur... His whole speech to Foolish, that one stream, highlights this well. If he loves someone, he will never let go. It's worth trying to mend, in his eyes, even if there's no guarantee it won't just break again. Just like his home, rebuilt dozens and dozens of times after all the griefs and opportunities to leave it. He always returns to what is close to him.

Ain't nothing come easy

No, nothing comes quick

It's gonna hurt like hell to become well

But if we set the bone straight

It'll mend It'll fix

And we'll be well

- c!Tommy's whole story has been painful. He gets beat down, more often than not. He goes to get closure in prison, and he returns undead. His bones shattered, feeling reality altered. But he still tries. Still tries to figure out what to do next, what to save next, even as he's tired to the bone. And there's something to say, about that - about how he tried, despite the pain. His healing process is such a mess, but it's a healing process all the same.

Ain't nothing come easy

No, nothing comes quick

But I want for you this, that you are well

I want for us this, that we are well

- That's what c!Tommy wants, in the end. For everyone to be safe from torment, and to have fun. For everyone to be well. It isn't easy, and he's not perfect, and his edges are sharp enough to cut, but he wishes nonetheless. He tends to the server, he asks c!Dream why he doesn't hurt after leaving everything, he preserves Ranboo's flowers; he just wants everything to be okay.

We are well, we are well

We are well

- And they will be, I hope. Because if there's one thing that c!Tommy's story has shown, after all the fighting, abuse, arguments, death and grief - it's that he's still alive, and hanging onto hope... And though things are bleak, I'm hoping one day, the whole server, not just c!Tommy, will be able to say "we are well", too.

So... Yeah. Check out the oh hellos if y'all haven't already, their music is wonderful <3

#dream smp #tommyinnit #the oh hellos #theseus the oh hellos #meta #character analysis #song analysis #ramble #music #song #my own post #i have no idea ehat's even happening at any current time #i just continue to imagine this silly little fictional character and all his past events andcry about him #l'manburg

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fuckyouquiznak · 4 years ago

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Jschlatt's Return

= Future developments in the Dream SMP plot (theories)

How does resurrection work?

• According to Philza and Eret to revive someone his ghost must be killed in the same way he lost his last canon life (that would also explain why Glatt and Ghostbur came back online recently).

• We also know they may need a totem and the knowledge of the resurrection book, which is now kept somewhere out there in the server, considering Dream said he didn't have it physically in prison with him. (He also said he destroyed it, but do we trust him? Absolutely not)

• We didn't see Tommy's revival from Dream's point of view, so it could be that Phantommy actually appeared and Dream easily killed him on the same spot of Tommy (maybe using the clock or his mask as a totem idk), but we still don't know what kind of information the book provides and how resurrection really works.

What is going to happen?

1. Quackity and Sam

• Quackity's last stream made pretty clear Big Q's intention of taking the book from Dream using all the means possible.

• However, despite the torture, Dream won't give any information. First of all he doesn't like Jschlatt, because he finds him annoying and boring (not like Wilbur) and second, of course, he knows the book's knowledge is the only thing that prevents other people from killing him. And then again, why should he give away the same power that made him a god? Quackity won't kill him without the book, and he is used to pain. Moreover he'll have some company at least.

• Quackity won't give up. He will keep visiting Dream everyday and will eventually start to like making him suffer.

• Sam instead will feel more and more guilty for what he made possible and for the person he became. He has changed since Tommy's death. He had promise to protect him and then he failed him. And then everything went wrong. He likes to believe that Dream deserves this for what he did to Tommy, but he is not sure that's the right way. Sometimes he even feels sorry for him, especially after Quackity's visits. After all Dream is just a broken person. Isn't he?

2. Tommy and the boys

• Meanwhile Tommy goes to Puffy's therapy sessions and opens up about his traumas and fears. It's hard, but it really helps having someone to talk to. Especially now.

• Since he returned to the server he has felt so lonely.

• Everyone treats him differently. Some people see him as miracle and keep asking inappropriate questions. Some others pretend nothing happened. For few of them the server just moved on; for others he is still dead.

• Even so he can't focus too much on himself right now. Stopping Dream is much more important. If Wilbur comes back... he doesn't even want to think about what he is capable of.

• They need to kill Dream, but Tommy is still too scared to come back to prison or to even touch a sword. Every time he suffers a damage he can't breathe: it's like it's happening all over again.

• He can't stay at his house anymore, on the ashes of L'Manburg, nor at his hotel, which is in Jack's hands, and he doesn't want to be alone (it reminds him of exile).

• He'll pass the time at Ranboo and Tubbo's, meeting Michael and working out a plan to kill Dream.

• In Tommy's stream Tubbo showed him his investigation report, pointing out that both Foolish and Ranboo were online when someone damaged the prison (before Tommy's dead).

• Tubbo obviously blames Foolish, nonetheless Tommy understands that something in Ranboo is corrupted.

• He tries to warn Tubbo, who underestimates his friend's words, thinking he might just be jealous of their relationship. They fight. It's a huge argument.

• "It's like you don't want me to be happy" Tubbo screams, shaking his head.

• "I don't want you to be happy without me" as soon as these words leave Tommy's mouth he immediately regrets it.

• Tubbo stays silent for a while. He seems disappointed: "You've changed".

• Tommy tighten a fist. "That's what death does to people, Tubbo, it changes them".

3. Kinoko Kingdom

• At the end Tommy will leave Snowchester and will move into Kinoko Kingdom (he liked the sign of the "free stuff", so why not?). Tommy there is welcome.

• He explains the Wilbur situation to the others, but then something bad happens.

• Hanging out with Sapnap, they talk about Ranboo and Dream's friendship and about how he acted when he received the ":)" message.

• It turns out Ranboo is guilty for the explosions in the prison that kept Sam busy during Tommy's visit to Dream.

• Tommy shows Tubbo the evidences.

4. Platonic Divorce

• After that, the platonic husbands will go through a "divorce arc".

• "How could you?" Tubbo can't help crying and screaming. "I trusted you".

• Ranboo wishes he could do something. But he is scared. He doesn't remember any of that. Did he really help Dream? Why? He doesn't...

• "I kicked out Tommy, my best friend, when he most needed me because of you! I think you should leave".

• Tubbo goes back to Tommy, apologizing. "You were right". And as much as he hates Ranboo, Tommy is broken-hearted seeing his best friend that hurt.

• However he can't help smiling when Tubbo says: "Guess it's just you and me against Dream like it has always been". It's selfish, but he really missed his best friend.

5. Connor's betrayal

• Sam talks with Connor about his doubts related to the all 'torture thing'.

• Connor tries to comfort him and decides to visit Dream with Quackity.

• Dream is relentless: "That villain arc you sewed for yourself is nice. But I won't tell you anything. And the book doesn't exist anymore, now. You can control every book in the server. It will not bring it back" saying these words Dream keeps his eyes on Connor. "The only way to find it should be... be able to travel in time"

• Connor freezes.

6. Karl's arrest

• Karl finds the resurrection book during one of his travels.

• He immediately plans to give it to Tommy, but when he comes back, someone is waiting for him in the library.

• "Well, look what the cat dragged in" Quackity stays still, his arms crossed, next to Connor and Sam. They all wear armours. "So it is true. That's a huge secret you have, Karl"

• The library behind them is destroyed. Books lie on floor ripped. They were looking for it.

• Karl puts the book of Necromancy back, his voice shaking as he realises Sapnap and George aren't there. "What are you doing here?" He asks, making eye contact with Connor, who quickly looks away, ashamed.

• "I'm sorry, Karl" he whispers "But Jschlatt is my friend"

• Quackity walks slowly towards him. "Give me the book, Karl". He has a creepy smile on his face. Is that even the same Quackity? This one looks different.

• "Quackity, you don't have to-"

• "Don't tell what I have to do. If you refuse, I might have to declare you under arrest"

• Karl holds the book tighter. If he gave him the book... no, he can't do that. For Tommy's sake, and for the rest of the server. If the book has the power to revive Wilbur... it must be destroyed. He grabs his sword, ready to fight.

• Quackity looks disappointed "You didn't give me another choice, man" he says, before killing him and taking the book from his inventory.

7. Dream and Karl

• Karl is later taken to the prison and put in Dream's cell.

• "Well, green boy, seems like you service is no longer required. However, I want to keep having fun with you. I'll revive Jschlatt, and then I'll execute you publicly. Enjoy your last hours: I got you company" Quackity leaves with a victory smile on his face.

• Dream looks horrible. He is covered in blood, his body painted by new scars. Karl has never seen him like this. His hearts are low and he hasn't eaten in days.

• Dream is the first one who speaks: "You found it".

• Karl freezes. What does that mean? "I though I had hidden it too well" he keeps saying, washing his blood away. "Maybe I should have really destroyed it"

• How cool would it be if Dream actually hid the book in the timeline? He couldn't burn it. Otherwise if he died no one would have revived him. So he just hid it where only Karl could find it.

• So yes, Dream knows Karl's power because he has a similar one. And yes, the prison was actually built for Karl (that's the only theory I care about).

• "We are not that different, Karl. Forgetting the people you love.. I know what it feels. I can help you controlling it. Have you reached the In between yet?"

• What if Dream is the one leaving Karl books and suggestions about his travels?

• They spend some time together and they surprisingly get along well. It's like someone finally understands.

8. Sapnap's lore

• Sapnap finds out Karl has been arrested, but he doesn't know why. He is angry.

• He faces Quackity who giggles. "Apparently there are a lot of things we don't know about Karl" but he doesn't tell him Karl's secret.

• Quackity and Sapnap break up (I won't ever be over Quackity's stream with El Rapid)

• Sapnap joins the children group. They are breaking into prison, right? He needs to save Karl.

9. Escape from Pandora's Vault

• Tommy, Tubbo, Ghostbur and Sapnap manage to break into Pandora's Vault when Sam and Quackity aren't online.

• When they arrive in Dream's cell, he is talking with Karl.

• Sapnap, horrified, takes Karl away from him. He doesn't trust Dream anymore, not after what he did to Tommy. He is sure it's his fault if Karl is here now.

• Dream can't help smiling when he sees the little party there. Especially when he sees his best friend Tommy. He tries to get closer.

• "I'm gonna kill you man. What the hell-" Sapnap punches Dream away. The anger and the resentment spread all over his body. They didn't deserve so much pain. Maybe the server will be a peaceful place without him. "You killed Tommy and then you gave Quackity the book- you"

• Karl stops him, defending Dream. "Sapnap, please. He didn't give them the book. I was the one who did".

• Everyone hold their breathe. What? Why? Wasn't it burned? How did you...

• "We need to get him out"

• Tommy grifts his teeth: "No way he is coming with us". He tries to grab his sword trembling and gagging, but it's too much. He can't... that place...

• Dream steps away. "Oh, you came to kill me" he whispers. "Do it. I'll be dead by tomorrow anyway"

• "You can't die yet!" Karl screams.

• "C'mon, Karl-"

• Dream smiles. "Don't forget who you are, Karl. And don't stray from the path. The SMP needs you more than you know" (= Dream is the one who leaves Karl notes about time travelling in the In Between :])

• "We don't have much time, guys"

• "Yeah, Tommy you don't have much time. Are you going to kill me? Or are you too afraid?" Dream starts teasing Tommy. "I bet you can't do it, right? You're too weak. And down deep you know you love me. We are best friends after all, aren't we?"

• Tommy doesn't react. He is as pale as a ghost, his eyes wide open.

• Tubbo steps in. He can't look at Tommy like this. He hates Dream so much. "Stay away from him". Looking back at his life, Dream has always been responsible for the bad things happened to him. The discs, L'Manburg, Tommy's exile, his death...

• Dream raises his eyebrows. "Tubbo, how's Ranboo?"

• It happens in a moment. Tubbo just loses control and kills Dream. Don't worry Dream's stans he'll come back one day. Bigger plans for that greenboy.

10. Resurrection

• They all run away.

• That same night Jschlatt is publicly revived. "¿Por dónde empezamos?"

• Quackity, Sam and Connor stay behind him.

• "Tonight our country has faced a loss. Four intruders entered the Pandora's Vault, killed Dream and helped the prisoner Karl Jacobs escape. Sapnap, Tubbo, Tommy and Ghostbur are now officially wanted. Dead or alive."

End of the season? Maybe?

How does the server react?

• Tommy, Tubbo, Sapnap, Ghostbur and Karl are criminals. They become nomads for a while. Samnook gives them an hand.

• Tommy keeps thinking about what Tubbo did. They really didn't talk about it after the break-out. Tubbo just pretends nothing happened.

• Karl and Sapnap aren't talking neither. And when they do they fight.

• The only happy one seems to be Ghostbur, who is excited to be on a vacation with the boys.

• Dream's ghost (Specdream? Nightmare?) appears to Ranboo, who is alone in a self-exile because he doesn't want to hurt anyone. Dream's ghost would be much more like Clay, so he won't be that dangerous like c/Dream (cfr. Ghostbur and Wilbur). But still it would be insane to see those two hanging out.

• Jschlatt and Quackity open their Casino, helped by Jack, who sells the hotel.

• After Dream's death and the destruction of Kinoko Kingdom, George takes Quackity's side. He is sure Sapnap killed Dream and he doesn't know how to feel about it...

• Philza, Techno, Eret and Niki, wanting Wilbur's return, will do the same (they need Ghostbur btw). Techno in particular will hunt the fugitives.

• Puffy and Fundy, contrary to them, will try to find Ranboo and the others in order to stop Jschlatt and Quackity.

• Wilbur and Dream meanwhile are having so much fun in the afterlife.

Even if solitaire is not chess

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morepeachyogurt · 4 years ago

Text

we are good people (and we've suffered enough)

word count- 2.5k Pairing- Temily

Summary- After Scratch, Tara and Emily run away to Italy to start a new life, ft. cats, cafes, and gardening. Based on this post, and this prompt.

Part 2 of my, maybe we’re from the same star, series, work is a standalone, part 1

read here on ao3

tw’s- very minor mentions of substances and ptsd

Things were never the same after Mr. Scratch. The two of them were filled with more trauma than they had room for in their hearts to still hold each other in. Nights were no longer filled with a movie and cuddling, or talking about philosophy but tense sentences, paranoia, and nightmares. Tara knew that something needed to change, anything to stop the monotony of desolation. But still, they went to work every day and drowned their sorrows in killers like that would bring back the part of her that died when Scratch took Emily. There are only so many times one can be held captive and wait for death before something inside them breaks.

One night they get wine drunk, Emily laying sidewise on their black couch, and Tara sitting on the table staring at the ceiling.

“I miss being young, god, that’s such a weird thing to say. I mean, I spent my youth hating it. Hated my mother, and all of our traveling, never could make friends. I hated that I never belonged, hated not being in control of my own life, and here I am 50 years old working for the government that I used to despise trying not to cry myself to sleep every night,” her voice takes on a bitter tone.

“We love in our old age the things we hated as children. Does that make us matured or foolish?”

“Both, I think.”

“What was your favorite place to live? I mean it sounds like hell to keep moving between places but there must have been someplace you loved, right,” Tara’s voice fills with a tang of desperation as she searches for a way to help her lover.

“Rome. The weather and the scenery,” her voice takes on a dreamy tone, “and the food! Man, the food is good, don’t tell Rossi but his carbonara tastes like Olive Garden compared to the real thing,” they both chuckled at that, knowing it would have sent Rossi in a fit if he were to hear that.

“That sounds really nice honey.”

“I miss it sometimes you know? I think about how gorgeous everything was. It feels like home in my distant memories.”

“Then let’s do it. Lets, go move to Rome. You aren’t happy here Emily, I know you say you are, but you do this job for our team, not the position now. I miss when you laughed,” both of them sobered up by now, knowing that it has taken a turn for the more serious.

“No, no we can’t. I, I can’t keep leaving this team and our friends. And, people need us. You love this job Tara I can’t take that away from you, not for me.”

“They’d understand Emily, they all love you so much. Yeah, I love this job, I won’t lie. But, I love you more, and I’m not happy if you aren’t. So let’s do it. Let’s fucking run away to Rome together and be happy .” The two sit in silence for a minute, the unanswered question still hanging in the air.

“Okay. Let’s do it. Maybe I’ll fulfill my long-lost dream to have a nice, big garden.”

The team took it surprisingly well, they’d all noticed a change in Emily in the months following Scratch and knew that Tara had Emily’s best interest at heart. Of course, they were sad to lose two of the best members of their team, but Emily was family, and family looks out for each other.

“I’m going to miss you my favorite dynamic duo and your guys’ jokes. Ugh, it’s going to be so quiet without you two lovely ladies,” her eyes are welling with unshed tears as she says goodbye to more of her family, “Send me things from Rome or I will install a virus in your phones,” they both laughed at Penelope’s antics and promised her that they’d send as much stuff as they could. The last two weeks of their stay in the United States were filled with mixed emotions. They were excited to start the next chapter of their lives together. Away from all the serial killers and monstrous people out there. They could finally live with a fraction of the naivety that most people carry. On the other hand, Tara only speaks minimal Italian, and now they’re going to be living in a brand-new country, surrounded by strangers. A fresh start, but one filled with anxiety.

“Okay 4:30 is way too early for a flight,” Emily grumbled as they made their way to the airport. The pair had woken up at three, knowing that Tara can’t sleep on planes they tried to go to bed early and were now making their way to the airport in the dead of morning.

“Wait, babe, look! It’s a full moon,” they pulled over just for a moment and got out of the car to sit on the hood. The silence between the two is peaceful, the wind was the only whisper in the air. Moonlight shone on Tara’s face and Emily knew that there was no sight in the world as beautiful as this. With the moon reflected in her eyes and a small simple ghosting on her lips. She’s home.

Security was a breeze, they are former FBI agents after all, and they made their way to their gate. Airports always have a certain air to them, a place where time seizes to exist yet completely runs the place. Their gate was quiet, filled with the tired murmuring of people excited to travel.

“Tara, honey, wake up we’re boarding.”

It was odd for the two of them to be flying commercial after all those years on private jets. It was nice to feel normal though, to fade in the background instead of being other . Human desire is both to be noticed and forgotten all at once.

Italy’s airport is very similar to the DC airport, it would seem like they never left. Outside was a whole different story, bustling crowds and hot air hits them as soon as they step outside the building. They had picked out a quaint apartment building a week prior. Yellow walls with a terrace looking out to an alley. The couple's belongings had been shipped and were waiting to be unpacked. Not right then though. Now, it was time to explore.

Hand in hand they walked leisurely down the narrow alley way of the small Italian town they are now calling their home. Vines and every other type of plant that could grow did. Hanging off banisters, and climbing up orange brick walls. The sunlight was close to blinding, and it hit Emily just right. The golden rays hitting her face and illuminating the ghost of the smile now appearing on Emily’s face. That smile told Tara all she needed to know about their decision. Emily catches her staring, “What are you looking at,” humor evident in her voice.

“You, I’m looking at you miss Emily Prentiss. You’re smiling again,” her words come out softer than she intended, but they convey her point.

Happy couples seem to fill the streets, old and new, young and old. The town may be old, but it was filled with a life that they had been lacking. They pass a quaint little bakery. Bread, cupcakes, and assorted pastries fill the windows. There're bookshelves on all the walls filled to the brim with different books. The walls are light blue and there are flowers everywhere. It looks like something from the movies.

“Un Piccolo Angolo di Paradiso,” Emily reads the name of the building in front of them, they’ve since stopped to admire the view in front of them. It reminds the two of them how Emily asked Tara out. With a cupcake and book who had ‘I know there’s plenty of sugar in that cupcake but it’d be even sweeter if you went out with me. Let me take you to dinner Tara? ’ written on the inside.

“As much as I love hearing you speak Italian, what does that mean? Something heaven?”

“Little Slice of Heaven.” It’s truly a perfect name for the place.

“Okay, now we have to go in,” they’re both smiling now. They push open the glass doors, greeted by the high-pitched ringing of a bell and the smell of freshly baked bread.

The woman at the counter finishes the greeting, “Benvenuti nel piccolo angolo di paradiso, cosa posso offrirvi, adorabili signore?” they blush at the compliment and Emily orders them both cupcakes and coffee. Tara busies herself with admiring the books. Some of them have the most beautiful covers she’s seen. She knows not to judge a book by its cover but sometimes the most beautiful things are just as gorgeous on the inside as out. Just like Emily. She buys a book, and they take their drink and desserts to go. They make their way to a waterfront and sit down on the stairs, side by side.

“Rome is just as beautiful as I remembered. I missed it. It really does feel like home, although, anywhere I’m with you is home,” at the end of her sentence, she turns to face Tara, a look of pure love shown clearly on her face. And for that, Tara just has to kiss her.

The next day they unpack their boxes of belongings into their apartment to help rid the homesickness. Paintings go up on the walls and furniture is placed with the best view in mind. After a couple of hours they’re done, their apartment a bit more homey than before. They crack open a bottle of wine, put on an album, and sit out on the terrace. They watch the sun set over the water, the sounds of big band music filter in as the soundtrack for their night. The sky painted yellow, orange, and pink in the way only nature can create. If nature were an artist they’d be in every museum and sold to the wealthy. Instead, they are for the masses, the beauty of nature is for all to enjoy, free of cost, for those who wish to escape and fly into the night sky.

“You know what I’ve always wanted to do?” Tara leans forward on the balcony, not taking her eyes off the view in front of her, even as the colors begin to fade the sky darkens.

“No, tell me, what?”

“I always wanted to open my own bakery. I know it’s stupid, me a baker. But, I don’t know making things, it feels so uncomplicated. Just me and the dough.”

“In this alternate universe, I’d be a gardener. You and your dough and me and my flowers against the world Tara. Wait a second. I think you and I are onto something my dear,” Emily’s joined Tara at the balcony, the two of them leaning against the railing.

“Actually? You’re serious? You want to do this.?”

“Yeah! Why not? We’ve got enough money in the bank for us to last a bit, you can work at Un Piccolo Angolo di Paradiso,” the Italian rolls of her tongue in a way that drives Tara nuts, “I’ll find a gardening place to work at. We’re in fucking Italy let’s make our dreams come true.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

Alessia, the owner of the bakery, is pleased to have another employee. Especially one that is actually interested and isn’t in high school. Tara learns the basics of bread and pastry making. She has some skill, she used to bake with her mother before she died, it had been awhile since she had been able to bake without bumming herself out. Now it’s a nice memory of her. Gone but not forgotten, as is the saying. Emily comes in every lunch break for whatever Tara’s whipped up and to get her caffeine fix. One of the things that she still keeps from her law enforcement days.

They aren’t perfect. A move across the country isn’t going to cure PTSD, she has good days, bad days, and worse days, but now they have the time to deal with it. There was never anytime to process things at the FBI. It was always, distract yourself and throw yourself into solving cases. Now they can slow dance in the kitchen and stay up until three am telling stories from college. They fill their days with the happiness that was once stolen from them and bathe in it like perfume.

True to their word, they send Penelope all sorts of things, books from the café, pressed flowers, trinkets from the small shops to adorn her desk. In return, she sends them pictures of Sergio.

“I miss Sergio, his little paws, and his ability to climb on top of anything.”

Emily finds a job at a nearby garden that sells flower arrangements and herbs to local restaurants. It’s convenient, more than they would have thought. Emily now gets to stop into the bakery on occasion to deliver herbs and has plenty of flowers to give her lover. She also sends a few bouquets back to DC. Hoping that the flowers can brighten up the office in a way that fluorescent lights never can.

On one of their late afternoon walks, they hear a rustling by a trash can.

“What’s that noise?”

“I don’t know, let’s go look, it almost sounds like an animal. Could be a mouse,” Emily suggests, absently reaching to where her gun used to rest on her hip. They open the bag to find three small kittens. Seemly abandoned in a corner.

“Oh god, they’re so cute. We have to keep them.” It’s not a question, Tara knows that Emily is thinking the same thing, their minds connected in the way people who love each other’s minds always are. They look up the nearest veterinarian to make sure that their new pets are okay to take home and healthy.

The vet is sterile and a stark reminder of all the hospitals they’ve spent time in. Tara squeezes her girlfriend’s hand to remind her that they are both safe .

“They look fairly health, a bit malnourished but that is to be expected in these circumstances,” the vet is an elderly man with a mustache as thick as his accent,

“I’ve give them the shots they need, for now, come back in few months and let me take another look. Ciao.”

The kittens are fast asleep by the time they make it home. They gently scoop the kittens out of the bag and into their arms and the couch.

“Okay, what are we naming these angels?” Emily’s voice is pitched up as she talks to the kitten in her arms.

“Well, I’ve always been a classics enthusiast, what if we name them Artemis and Apollo?”

“That’s adorable. Little tiny archery kitties, yes, isn’t that right!” she coos, “And I think I’ll name this one Carter.”

“I love it, and you. Come on, sit with me, you look tired,” Tara grabs Emily’s hand and pulls her onto the couch. They fall over a bit and Emily yelps in surprise. They put the old music back on, a sense of peaceful needs for their new lives. The two sit on the couch, Emily’s head in her girlfriend’s lap, a hand playing with her hair. Apollo climbs on Emily’s feet and lays down to rest.

“I love you, Tara,” she doesn’t respond, just lays a gentle kiss to the back of her head.

The world is big and scary but the two of them feel safe in each other's arms.

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#dkakakska I forgot to tag this now it won’t show up 💔💔#temily #Tara lewis #emily prentiss #criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #temily fic #lucy's creations #mine!

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