#but none of them would have been in the mood to be a test subject

[lunarflare64]

I feel like I'm someone new rn, which is super confusing because I don't know what to do with myself, I don't feel like reading or writing or drawing, nothing calls to me on youtube, I don't wanna play games or knit or crochet or loom weave, baking is an iffy maybe but even if it was a yes we don't have any baking ingredients, out of sheer boredom and restlessness I made a nest in the storage room, so we're in that now and its managed some restlessness (who knows how long that'll last), but I'm still bored, I think its been me that's been defaulting to BTD5 on our phone over the past few days since our progress was wiped for some reason, but I never actually really wanted to play it, it was just something to do

Even though we've been through this hundreds of times now, this is our first time doing it while knowing we're plural, and it feels really different. Before, this blank period after a time of a lot of stress felt straight up like depression, but now that we know there's an incredibly bored newbie steering? Its so, so much easier, like, we still don't know what to do, I'm still bored, but this time we know I shouldn't be just sitting and waiting for interest in something to come to us, I gotta actually think about it, and try things, and eventually we'll either switch or I'll find something I enjoy doing

[ask-sister-solaris]

Heyyyyy lovely I have an idea!

I was wondering if you could do an Egon x Reader x Ray during the scene where Ray and Egon show the others the slime (yknow the one where they make the toaster dance but like the whole scene 😉). Maybe the reader has been away for a long while, and the guys thought they needed to do this for 'research'. I'd love to know how you think they'd try and hide their embarrassment, let alone the fact that they even thought about it from reader

Ooooonnyessssssssss

“You hound”

Ray x Egon x reader

Warnings: none

You and Winston were stood at egons desk as Ray, Egon and Peter were gathered at the microwave. “We have been experimenting with the plasma we found in the subway” Ray spoke as Egon brought the Tupperware container over. Peter looked at him confused and made a comment “Should I get spoons?” You rolled your eyes at his stupidity and looked at Ray and Egon. Egon warned everyone not to bother the slime and to watch, which naturally being curious you did. He nodded at Ray “Go ahead Ray” you rose a brow confused until Ray started yelling at the slime, making you jump back in surprise as it began to bubble. Egon joined in on the yelling and it bubbled more. When it reached the top, Egon stopped Ray half yell and you looked impressed, Venkman in the other hand not so much “This is what you do with your spare time?”

Ray looked wounded “Peter this is an incredible breakthrough, I mean what a discovery a psycho reactive substance. Whatever this stuff is, it response to human emotional states.” You smiled gently at him and his geekiness. This is why you loved Ray and Egon. They were so…them. They didn’t listen to the teasing. Of course Venkman brought the whole thing down by simply calling it “Mood Slime” before leaning in and acting all stupidly flirty. You gagged at him and laughed when the slime bubbled at him. You rested a hand on Egons shoulder as you pulled out your cigarettes and lit one up. Winston chimed in “You mean this stuff actually feeds on bad vibes?” Ray nodded his head “like a cop in a donut factory” you chuckled as you took a drag of your cigarette and breathed out the Vapor.

Egon looked at the three of you then Ray “We have been running tests to see if we can get an equally strong positive reaction.” Peter looked at Egon with a raised brow and asked about what tests they were running. Ray sighed “Well we sing to it, and uh we talk to it and well, we say supportive nurturing things to it” a smirk grew on Venkmans face as he looked at the slime and then to Ray “your not sleeping with it are you Ray?” You looked at Peter gone out, as if Ray would- but the silence that came afterwords spoke for itself. You looked between Ray and Egon, both refusing to make eye contact. The slime bubbled and Peters, Winston’s and your eyes widened looking between the two. Peter looked at Egon and groaned, wincing at the thought “oh you…” Winston chuckled and shook his head “it’s always the quiet ones”

You couldn’t believe they would do that but the slime itself had confirmed by reading the emotions in the room. Peter laughed and looked between the two “You hound” Egon cleared his throat and tried to divert from the subject, asking Ray directly about a kinetic test. There was no urging or prompting needing from Egon to get Ray from his embarrassment. Egon placed a toaster on the desk as Ray scooped up some of the plasm on a spoon and put it into the toaster. Egon carried it over to the pool table as Ray told them it responds not music, strange but you were a ghostbuster. You’d seen stranger. Egon put the tape in and instantly you knew it was yours, your Jackie Wilson tape. You grinned as egon looked over “Loves Jackie Wilson”

“Do you guys do this at night when I’m not here” Peter huffed sceptical about what the slime would do. He mocked them “oh I get it it sings, sounds just like Jackie, that’s fantastic” egon rolled his eyes as you stood beside him still smoking your cigarette , you knew that Egon loved any music you listened to so that explained where your Jackie Wilson tape had gone. “Just watch” Egon snapped back as the toaster began jumping around the pool table. You all watched in awe, you yourself impressed theyd found this out. “Oh it dances to” Peter exclaimed and you chuckled and watched it. Toast popped out as egon caught them and put them to the side. You chuckled as egon stopped the music and Venkman hugged the toaster “oh baby, oh your my number one Christmas boutique gift item” you rolled your eyes at his stupidity “yeah and the moment someone gets angry that toaster could eat their hand” you answered back he shook his head in disbelief and turned it around looking all over “no no well put a sticker on it freeing us from any liability” just as he said that he screamed and put his fingers in the bread holes. He laughed as the others panicked and snorted “how did you ever fall for the old hand in the haunted toaster trick.” You all groaned and tackled him dragging him off to the ECTO 1 laughing.

Later you were sat in the lab with egon and Ray reading a book on the occult. You looked up and tilted your head “Boys? You didn’t actually sleep with the ectoplasm did you? I mean..please say you didn’t” both Ray and Egon looked at each other than back out you guilt all over their faces. You groaned and slammed your head into your book. You looked up bright red and shook your head “You absolutely hounds, you could have just come to me”

[writing-with-emy]

hey hey!! i’m back to request for fezco🤭 could you do a fluffy imagine where the reader is like really stressed out with school and getting bad grades and stuff so fezco helps her to the best of his ability and just supports and comforts her and stuff? thank u hon!!🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼❤️❤️❤️

Bad Grades - Fezco x F!reader

*REQUESTS ARE CLOSED* | Fezco Masterlist | Shipping: Fezco x F!reader Summary: The last few months have been tough for you at school with your grades going down, so when you sat in front of Fezco exhausted and drained, he knew just what to say to put you in a better mood. Word Count: 1.066 Prompts: None Warnings: The Usual, some curse words, talk about toxic Mom kinda, not proof read, english is not my first Language! Notes: Eyy, two oneshots in one day! Getting productive today, while watching Kim Possible. xD

You were sitting at the dining Table at Fezco’s House, as you heard the door Open and Fezco coming in with Ash. “Hey, ma.”, you heard him say. “Hey..”, you mumbled, feeling Fez giving you a Kiss on the Cheek. “What are you doin?”, you heard Ash ask from the kitchen.’ "Studying for my Math test Tomorrow.”, you said looking up to Ash. “You Studied the whole time we were out at the Shop?”, Fez questioned as he pulled the chair next to you away to sit on it. “Yep.”, you breathed out. “That was like- What? Eight or Nine Hours ago?”, Ash asked, coming to you. You just nodded. “Well, I guess that was enough for today, time to put the books away and get yourself comfortable, Ma.”, Fez stated while he lit his Joint. “No, I’ve been studying Math for only like an hour, and I’m not even done with these two Pages.”, you whined. “What did you study the rest of the Time?”, Ash questioned. “History, Geography, English, Biology and Physics.”, you listed. "That's a lot. “, Ash stated, while eating his cereal. “This is every subject I have tomorrow.” “Don’t you think it was enough for today?”, Fez asked. “Only these two Pages. Then I’m done. Promise.”, you said, making your best Puppy eyes towards Fez. The look on his face gave away that he would rather take your Book away, then to let you make the last two pages. “When I don’t get my grades better, then I’m grounded for the next few months. I don’t want to hang out at home. Plus my Mom is already not a big Fan of you, when I fail the next Test, she definitely makes you the reason for it.”, you stated. He takes a deep breath and nods. “These are the last for today.”, he pointed at the book pages. “Promise.”, you smiled, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Even though Fezco didn’t have his High School Diploma, he wasn’t as Bad or Stupid as many may think. With his Help you actually understand what you were doing and in just half an hour you finished these two pages. You closed the book and let out a breath of air you didn’t even know you were holding. “Thank you Fez.”, you said, putting everything away. “No problem, but now you're gonna take a break and calm down.”, he said, smiling at you. You just nodded.

-

You two were sitting on the couch, and even though you’ve been done with your homework for a couple of hours, you just couldn’t keep yourself from going over them in your head again and again. For the past months your grades were going bad and as much as you love your mother, she didn’t really help, she just put more pressure and stress on you. “What’s wrong, ma?”, he asked, looking down at you.

“Hm?”, you looked up from his chest straight in his blue eyes. “What’s wrong, your mind isn’t on the movie.”, he said, letting his Hand go up and down on your arm. “Nothin’..really. Everything is okay.”, you said, giving him a tight lipped smile. “Don’t say that, I know you better than anyone in this goddamn town. Tell me what’s wrong.”, he said, pausing the Movie. “You won’t let go, won't you?”, you questioned. “No, not until you tell me what’s on your mind.”, he stated. You sighed, before you sat up straight turning to him. “It’s just, the last few months and weeks have been stressful and full of pressure from my Mom.”, you began. “Why’s that?” “It’s because of the school. Because, no matter how much or often I learn the Stuff we learn in school, I still fail. I don’t know why I fail, but I do. It feels like my grades fall from day to day even more, and if I don’t pull them up again I’m going to fail this semester, then I need to repeat the whole year and…”, you pause, taking a deep breath, voice breaking while your gaze is on your Hands. “...And I don’t want to do that. If this happens, I’m grounded for the whole next year probably, then I’m not allowed to be here with you.”, you croaked. “Because, to be fair, my Mom thinks it is because of you. No matter how often I tell her it isn't, she doesn’t believe it. I don’t know how I should convince her any other way. Not only about you, but also about the School, my abilities..My-”, broke the sentence when a sob made it through your whole Body. You put your Hands on your face, trying to hide your face from Fezco even if you know that it wouldn’t bring anything. You feel Fezco taking your Hands away from your face, taking them in his hands.

“Hey, look at me, ma.”, he said softly. You raise your Head looking at him, and it breaks his heart seeing the tears on your cheeks. He raised one Hand to wish the tears from your Face, before letting it rest on your cheek. “Look, I maybe don’t have a High School Diploma or some shit like this, but I don’t need one to know that you are smart enough to get through this and get your Diploma okay? And Shit, you don’t ever have to pretend that everything's okay, not with me. Not here in our Home. Everything is going to be okay.”, he said, caressing your cheek. “Our Home?”, you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. “Shit yeah, this is our Home, you and me, with ash and Grandma. Don’t ever question that.”; she said grinning. “I love you.”, you said, not able to hold back your smile. “I love you too, ma.”, he said. You leaned forward to press a Kiss to his lips which he returned. “You make me feel safe, you know that?”, you whispered, just inches away from his face. “I better be, you’re my family.”, he smiled. Smiling your pressed your lips against his again, before you two separate and you cuddle against his chest. He started the movie again, before giving you a kiss on the top of your head. You know, no matter how hard it would get, you always will have Fez in your corner to back you up and that's all you need.

[one-strugling-bean]

Woy headcanons (that are mostly Hater&Peepers, sorrynotsorry)

the brainrot for this show is hitting strong once again. This is how I cope (some of them might go against canon, I'm not sure)

Wander is not the last of his kind, although it is a pretty small species in numbers. They are typically nomads and don't tend to have many children per couple, so they are hard to come by. It's probably been decades since Wander has crossed paths with another one of his species.

Speaking of which, Wander is pretty old. His species has a looooong life span and he's around middle-aged in it.

Hater is also quite old compared to most aliens from WoY's galaxy. But for his species, he's pretty young. A skeleton his age is like an older teenager, or a young adult, at most (in human years, he'd be around 19, to early twenties).

Besides Hater himself, Peepers is the only one who knows Lord Hater's real age. Mostly because no one believed him until Peepers.

His species also takes longer to emotionally mature, which explains Hater's childishness, despite how old he is.

Wander is the kind of person who grows a crush on basically everyone he meets, but would also never want to settle down with anyone romantically. "The world is too wide and there are way too many people out there to just stay with one" kind of vibes, ya know?

Sylvia and Wander work so well as companions because they're both 100% sure nothing romantic would ever happen between them. They're besties through and through

Peepers is very much gay and very much crushing on his boss. He represses the hell out of those feelings though.

For the sake of the Hater Empire, Peepers has done quite a few horrible things that Hater doesn't even dream of. And by that, I mean like, actual evil deeds: gore-y missions, downright cruel decisions, the tying of loose ends permanently. The way Peepers saw it, all those things needed to be done for the Empire to thrive, but he knew how sensitive Hater could be and they couldn't risk upsetting their leader too much. Therefore, such responsibilities naturally fell on him.

He's always hidden such matters from Hater. Most of them were in the past, before they became feared, but even to the present day there's a part of him that's really scared of Hater finding out and thinking differently of him. Especially after Wander and Sylvia came around. (He's afraid they'll see him as truly evil).

These past actions are a particularly sore subject for Peepers whenever Hater disregards and/or actively harms their empire; "After everything I've done for us-!" kind of thought

The Watchdogs don't like Peepers. Like, at all. None of them would want his job so there's never been a mutiny against him, but they make so much fun of Peepers behind his back.

Peepers is aware of this (he already wasn't popular amongst the watchdogs before Hater came around) and retaliates by being the most insufferable, hard-to-please boss the watchdogs could ever have (asides from Hater, ofc)

However, in the Watchdog Army, there is a cautionary tale about Lord Hater and making fun of Peepers: it is said that once, a few courageous watchdogs saw Hater berating Peepers, and decided to join him in on the "dunking on Peepers" jokes. Apparently, those few watchdogs went too far with their jeering and Lord Hater obliterated them for their insolence. No one knows for sure how true that tale is, but no one has ever been brave enough to put it to the test.

"Don't talk to Hater about Peepers, and don't talk to Peepers about Hater; especially if they're in a bad mood." That is one of the many secrets that has allowed the Watchdog Army to survive under those two's tutelage.

I like to picture Wander finding out about this animosity between Peepers and his army and deciding to do an intervention to solve everything. He only makes things worse. Weeks later the watchdogs are still suffering from Peepers' petty wrath

Hater is a closeted bi-disaster.

This is not a headcanon, more of an opinion, but Sylvia and Peepers' relationship is lesbian⇆gay solidarity/hostility perfection

Somewhen during the 2nd season, Sylvia and Peepers start going out for drinks whenever Hater and/or Wander do something particularly stupid. Something, something, solidarity between the two only braincells, somethi-

Sylvia quickly realizes Peepers reaaaaaally hates Wander. At first, she is honestly confused as to why. But when she figures out Peepers' crush things become much clearer.

Cant think of many more now....... Please feel free to discuss these hc or add up new ones in a reblog, it would make my dayyy

[rebelelegance]

My Person

A/N: Burst of motivation so used it for this rather than studying for my next test 'cause, why not? @lokisgoodgirl thank you so much for the ideas!! Kinda mixed 2 of them together here.

w/c: 1945

Summary: Loki decides to celebrate Valentine's a little early in view of you working hard for your exams.

Warnings: None, just pure fluff

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

Loki didn’t like seeing you stressed. However, your college didn’t seem to be on board with that plan, and it infuriated him. You’d been slogging off for 3 days, your sleep schedule, your food schedule and everything else being thrown out the window just because your college thought asking you a bunch of questions about the hardest subject Loki had ever heard of would be a good way to test your intelligence.

If only they knew how good you were at snowball fighting. He’d like to see them find some better at figuring out an angle to blindside the Hawkeye. 

However you’d told him it was important nonetheless and as much he disliked it, decided to at least support you in whatever way he could until the day of the exam. Which was today.

He lost count of how many times he checked the time, 2pm just couldn’t seem to come any quicker. And it was only 11.15. He groaned, sliding lower in his position on the couch. He didn’t know why he was so anxious, and yet he couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing up and down, pausing temporarily when his phone buzzed, resuming at a faster pace when he realized who it was.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The blonde God who is unfortunately my brother

Brother! I am going to the store called Target 

to buy a Valentine’s Day gift for Jane. Would you 

like to accompany me?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Loki sighed, he’d heard you gushing about Valentine’s Day to Natasha, although he couldn’t figure out what you’d planned for him, just that he was going to love it. He didn’t doubt that, a day full of cuddles in itself would be more than enough for him. However, he did want to get you something special, so begrudgingly he replied.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alright, but you stay 5 feet away from me. I’m not

in the mood for your cheeriness.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He got up, grabbing a coat and the house keys as he stormed out of the house, with the realization that he knew nothing about what to get someone for Valentine’s day.

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

Thor had decided on a box of chocolates, a rose and a card for Jane, however Loki couldn’t find something worthy of you. He’d gone through an entire aisle of cards nearly ripping three of them after reading the cheesy lines written in fine print. Only one had seemed interesting, something about sending something sexy for valentine’s day but not being able to fit into the post box. But, after some consideration, he found it rather silly. He’d also managed to nearly ruin a card with a pull-out message on it. He’d pulled it too hard, almost pulling the heart right out of the fold, rather than unfolding it. Thor had stood there, laughing nearly the entire time, telling every person who passed that it was his brother’s first time Valentine’s shopping, earning amused chuckles from them and glares and threats from Loki himself. 

He huffed, throwing his hands up in the air. “This is an absolute waste of time,” he nearly yelled, turning to Thor. He pointed an accusing finger, “You put me up to this, you-you love watching me fail at this don’t you- you filthy little excuse of a-”

“Loki! We’re in public, save your insults for the car,” Thor stopped him, gently pushing Loki’s hand away. He fumed, but stayed silent, closing his eyes in defeat. “I have an idea,” Thor started. Loki opened one eye, tilting his head to the side. “What does Y/N mean to you?”

Loki straightened, opening his mouth to bite back - “For once take me seriously,” Thor said, shifting his bag of goods from one hand to the other. 

Loki sighed. “She’s special Thor. She just- there’s something about her. I can’t explain it. She knows exactly what to say when. She’s smart, funny, and talented. I can’t- I can’t just give her chocolates or some printed card, it’s-it’s not enough.” 

Thor smiled, “Then don’t brother, give her something personal. What would she like?”

Loki froze in thought. Personal. What was that phrase you always used? My person. You’re my person. If only he could materialize that. He placed his hands on his hips, and started pacing. Personal. Personal. My person. Us. He froze, spinning back to Thor. “I’ve got it!”

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

When you got home, you expected Loki would be all over you. You hadn’t texted him after the exam, and deliberately told him a time 2 hours later than the actual end of your test, just so that you could add a few final touches to the Valentine’s Day present you’d got him. It was tomorrow, which meant you were a bit late, but with your exam schedule, it’d been hard to get anything else done at all. However when you walked into the dining room, you froze, nearly dropping your bags.

Loki was standing there in jeans and a black shirt, with that emerald blazer you’d given him on New Year’s partly buttoned, a huge grin on his face. The table was covered in rose petals and little colored pieces of paper, with a box sitting in the center. 

You placed your bags down, immediately running over and engulfing him in a big hug. Loki laughed as he caught you, twirling you around once, before setting you down gently and bending over for a kiss.

“How was your exam darling?” He asked once he pulled away, his arms still around your waist. You smiled, “It went well,” you pulled yourself closer to him, your arms tightening around his waist. You kissed his shoulder, “Thanks for all your help,” you whispered. 

Loki kissed your forehead, rubbing your back gently. “Don’t thank me love, you deserve all that and much more.” You both pulled away, your eyes filled with nothing but admiration for your boyfriend. You turned, one hand still around his torso, as you used the other to gesture to the display in front of you.

“So,” You said.

“So,” he responded. You looked up at him. “What is all this?” you laughed. He smiled, “You can choose darling. An early Valentine’s Day present, or a reward for working so hard for your test,”

“But I only just told you that I did well,” you said, confused.

“Whether you did well or not is secondary,” he replied, “you did your absolute best, and a reward is in order.” 

You couldn’t help the huge grin that split across your face. “So how do I go about this?” you asked, stepping up to the table. “Read the notes first. Then open the box,” Loki replied. You suddenly turned back to him. “You’re not proposing are you? I mean- not that I would mind, I- I’d love it. But I mean, I still haven’t graduated and I- I just thought-” Loki placed his hands on your shoulders, silencing you. “I know love, it’s not. Don’t worry,”. You nodded, hoping he didn’t feel bad. You knew you loved him enough to marry him, but you wanted to graduate first. You were glad he understood.

You turned back around reaching for the first note. It was written in his handwriting, delicate cursive filling the small colored square.

I’m so grateful for the fact that Tony basically raised you. Otherwise, I doubt you would have forced me to confess my feelings for you.

You laughed, reaching for the next one,

Your smile is brighter than the Bifrost. And that, as you say, is saying something.

You grinned, picking up a pink one next,

I’ve never said it, but your hugs are my safe space. The world’s cruelty disappears when your arms are sound mine.

At this point your eyes were starting to water as you picked up the next 3 at once.

I do think at this point you are the one thing I could not live without. You make life worth living, for someone who has gone through and done as much as I have.

I know you don’t like me seeing you dance, but I will confess, that I have seen it once, when you thought I wasn’t home yet and you were blasting your favorite ‘Sucker’ by the Jonas Brothers and dancing around the kitchen.

One more thing I never say enough: You Are My Person

Tears were now streaming down your face, and Loki wrapped his hand around your waist from behind, wiping your tears away with the other.

He kissed your hair, “I love you,” he said. You turned around, pulling him down for a long kiss.

“I love you too,” you whispered, pulling away. 

“Open the box please,” he requested, pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You pulled away, walking back to the table as you gently picked up the small box. You opened it carefully, gasping immediately once you saw what was inside.

A golden colored necklace sat inside with a beautiful heart outlined with stones as the pendant. Inside the heart was your initial, a little plus sign and then an L. You turned around to Loki, holding it out. He carefully pulled the necklace out, and you turned back around. You pulled your hair out of the way, as he gently fastened the necklace around your neck, kissing your shoulder afterwards. 

“I love it,” you grin, placing the box on the table. “I’m glad darling,” Loki replied, a smile on his face. “My turn,” you walk over to your bags, going through them as you pick out a box. You hand it to your boyfriend, “Happy Valentine’s Day love.”

Loki carefully opened the box, lips curving into a huge grin as he saw what was inside. You’d gotten him a thin gold bracelet, with a small rectangular piece in the center reading: My person.

You gently turned the bracelet over, the underside had your nickname etched into it.  

Loki looked back up at you, “Put it on for me?” You nodded, carefully pulling it out and clasping it around his wrist.

He then promptly wrapped his arms around you again.

It took you forever to decide what you wanted to get him. When you were on your way home from college one day, you passed a store that was selling personalized jewelry and you couldn’t help but think it was perfect.

Loki pulled away slightly, “I have to admit though, Thor did help me a bit with the decision, not what to buy of course, but more of how to decide what to buy. That doesn’t make sense does it?”

You laughed, shaking your head, “I think I got it. But, you know what that means,” you said, pulling away. “Uh- no, no I don’t,” He responded, concern lacing his voice as you started carrying your bags up the stairs.

You turned back around, pausing, “You have to say thank you,” you smirked, then continued up the stairs.

Loki ran after you “No. Not in the name of the nine realms, no way,” he protested, as you packed everything away. “Yes,” you said your arms on your hips.

“No.”

“Yes, you will.”

“No, I will absolutely not.”

“Fine then, no cuddles for 2 days. And that’s really saddening you know, considering I have a day off tomorrow,”

Loki gaped at you, both of you knowing full well that you’d cornered him. “I-You- You wouldn’t,” he said pointing at you. 

You shrugged, the smirk still on your face. “I just did.”

He groaned, “Fine, fine, I’ll apologize tomorrow.”

You nodded, jumping on to the bed with the TV remote. “That works.”

“So can I get cuddles today then?” he asked, cautiously approaching the bed.

You laughed, “Get over here ya big cuddle bug.”

A/N: This was soo fun to writee. Hope y'all like it!!

[sustainably-du-mortain]

côme x felix: 3-9, for the ship ask game please!

Thanks a lot for the ask!! <3

3. What was their first impression of each other?

Côme saw Felix enter his office and thought "Wow! I love his outfit!", to then go through the "He's really pretty" kind of thoughts. Felix did the whole hand kiss thing next and Côme instantly knew they would get along well. Also, they're a bit oblivious when it comes to flirtation, so it took them quite a while to realize Felix was flirting with them.

Felix saw Côme and the first thing that popped into his mind was "Omg! They're so small!" (Côme is 5'1"). Then Côme started being his sassy self and Felix quickly realized they were a little chaotic gremlin. His next thought was "omg, they're a little dumb" when he understood that Côme had no idea he was flirting with them.

4. Who initiates affection? Why does the other not initiate affection as much?

Both of them initiate affection and I don't think one does it more than the other. They're both very clingy and physical when it comes to expressing how they feel so they do it a lot, whether it's consciously or absent-mindedly. They'll hold hands when walking together, have a hand on the other's thigh when they're sitting together

But they're also really affectionate with their words. They never miss an occasion to compliment the other or offer encouragements. And pet names. They never run out of pet names.

5. Do they argue often? If so, what do they argue about?

They don't really argue often, they get in heated debates about random silly subjects, but it's almost never anything really serious.

But if they do really argue, it's often due to the fact that Côme shuts down when something happens. They'll stop communicating and Felix can sense that there's something wrong but Côme won't say anything. Until it all explodes.

6. How do they makeup/apologize after an argument?

None of them deals properly with being mad at each other, so making up is fairly easy for both of them.

Côme will offer gifts, sometimes handmade, like a little crochet plushie, or sometimes it's something they found that made them think of Felix. And with the gifts come the apology.

Felix, I envision, does it through touch. He sits next to Côme, testing the waters, trying to see if Côme is okay with his presence, then he dares a bit more and gets closer until he engulfs Côme in a hug.

7. How often do they say "I love you"?

They say both say it pretty often, but it's almost always at very random moments. It's like one of them does something stupid and the other has no other reaction than "I love you" coming out of their mouth. They just both know how they feel about the other and how the other feels about them, and they don't think there's any use to not say it out loud.

8. What do they love most about the other? Why?

For Côme, it's Felix "brightness". It's the way he makes a room light up when he enters it, or the way he instantly lifts everyone's mood. Felix is a ray of sunshine who makes them feel warm and at ease, and Côme can't help but fall for them a little bit more any time he smiles.

For Felix, it's the fact that Côme is really easy to read. Everything they feel, or think shows on their face. But Felix finds it particularly endearing because Côme persists in being all mysterious and hard to read, when they're the exact opposite.

9. What do they dislike most about the other? Why?

For Côme, it's Felix's messy side. They're not a neat freak, but they've spent years in labs where you've got to keep everything sterile and neat and everything has to be in its place. And they're having a hard time shaking off that habit. So, they definitely scrunched their nose a little at Felix's 'organized mess' the first few times. But they'll get used to it.

For Felix, it's Côme recklessness, especially when it comes to their body. Côme has been skateboarding since they were a teen, so they're used to getting hurt and taking bad falls. They broke a few bones over the years, so they don't really freak out anymore when they fall and bleed, unless the bleeding doesn't really stop. But Felix always freaks out when they come home and they're all bloodied because they took a bad fall, or when they laugh it out when getting hurt during missions, and he doesn't really understand why Côme isn't more concerned.

Ship ask game

[mutable-manifestation]

Jason votes for him after the "Joker alive = no corruption" interview.

Can a political candidate normally get away with inciting a murder? Nah. But Danny is a teenager - he's popular, sure, but at the end of the day he's a kid. No one thinks he'll really win he's just taken as a bit of lighthearted fun. His campaign brings up the mood in Gotham for a while; they figure he'll get maybe third place and then everyone will move on with their lives.

They underestimate the power of memes (many are spawned from his campaign).

He wins the election and the city council is absolutely scrabbling to convince this kid to take back his words (because "inciting murder is wrong" and tooooootally not at all bc they want him to seem bribable to the criminals of the city. Ofc the council isn't corrupt whaaaaat? Nah)

Spoiler alert: he doubles down.

The Joker's dismembered corpse is left on the steps of city hall on his 4th day in office & Red Hood appears behind him just as the news clip rolls with a duffle bag of 100s.

Gotham hasn't been declared No Man's Land yet but the government sure has offloaded a lot to make Gotham more self-reliant (ie on its own)

They might regret that a little when Danny's 5th day in office sees the Red Hood pardoned for all crimes (at least within Gotham - outside he might be fair game but in it? Man is smelling like roses legally).

Danny also announces he's now unbribable for a different reason but fails to elaborate (Jason's bribe was both for the pardon and for him not to be bribed by anyone else for the rest of his term)

As for Jason? He skipped to killing the Joker himself instead of still waiting for Bruce to do it because a) no more Joker, b) he doesn't have to watch his new favorite politician be subject to Clown Bullshit (TM) and c) he thought it'd be funny to watch Bruce figure out how to react without the whole "what you wrong" thing to fall back on because he was all but government sanctioned Bruce-y

When Danny announces he is suddenly permanently un-bribable & won't explain the kidnapping attempts start up

The gangs figure, hey, maybe if he's scared he'll spill. And if he doesn't they can forget bribes altogether and just do threats.

Problem: he keeps. Escaping.

Kidnap him? He disappears the moment all eyes are off of him. Cameras randomly glitch. People start to think he's a meta, but when the accusation goes public he just publishes his test results (the Fentons tested themselves & their kids in the hopes one of them would have the gene so they could try to force-awaken it as some kind of ghost-hunting power. None of them had the gene, lucky for Jazz & Danny)

Ofc a niche population still thinks he's a meta, because since when has official documentation been enough to convince some people of information.

Oh well, they think. He still has family. He used his salary to get a separate apartment, but his parents were all too happy to move to Gotham (thankfully the portal stayed in Amity & since they weren't there it stayed closed), deciding to hunt Robin.

Yeah.

Batman ages, grows, his voice changes.

Robin is never quite an adult, always shifting back. Always changing. Ergo, Robin = evil ghost mind controlling Batman for nefarious purposes, possibly the reason Gotham is still so bad despite having so many vigilantes. (They disagree with but respect Danny's theory that Batman is a crime lord).

Attempts to kidnap the other Fentons are disastrous.

Maddie leaves a trail of broken bodies in her wake. Always calls the proper authorities, always goes through the proper channels, and always gets an easy self-defense ruling (she doesn't even need Danny's help given the numerous cameras & other recording devices she constantly has active on her person).

Jack is a mountain, but with his personality and Maddie's track record they give it a go.

He thinks they've come for a weapons upgrade, snatching the gun shoved in his face before critiquing it as he ushers the small group that had been sent to their doorstep into the basement - they remain compliant, seeing the imprints left on the guns barrel from his fingers (Jack Fenton is fully human but he's all muscle. And Fenton weapons are denser, heavier than normal. guns He expected to need more grip to hold it but no matter, he can apologize for the damage by giving them an extra ecto-weapon).

Even with the portal back in Amity, they've brought plenty of weapons. He describes each of their functions with glee, and the sprinkled in mentions of ghosts are taken as a threat - especially with how he carelessly waves barrels in their faces, paying no mind to how they leap for cover.

They pale when he hefts the bazooka without breaking a sweat and demonstrates by obliterating a shooting target and tearing hole through the Earth and into the next basement over.

Maddie is the one who rescues them, reminding Jack they might just be neighbors offering them mundane weapons to cope with life in Gotham (she's not giving her ecto-weapons to a bunch of criminals).

The patented Jack Fenton Back Slap nearly breaks one dudes spine when Jack apologizes for the misunderstanding, and Maddie helps his usher them back out the door with narrowed eyes.

(Then Jack & Maddie work on the patented Fenton Apology Casserole for their basement neighbor)

The first group to go after Jazz ends up on the business end of Harley Quinn's Hammer. (Aye psychology buddies!)

The next ends up fed to Poison Ivy's plants (she was delivering a message from Sam & since Harley is fond of Jazz...)

The third time they discover Jazz...has Fenton weapons. But she can't aim. She closes her eyes & shoots wildly. She gets one in the eyes. One gets shot in the unmentionables. A third, the knee. A fourth, the kidney (yeah he pees himself & also loses said kidney).

Of course she feels awful for hurting them so badly & calls an ambulance while giving them basic first aid and critiquing their life choices/tearing their apart their thought processes.

Sam & Tucker are still in Amity at this point (Sam knows she can lure her parents easily enough with the promise of playing nice with the Waynes, but she's waiting for Tucker to either get a WE internship or test into Gotham U courses so he can convince his parents & they can move at the same time)

So ofc the gangs move to assassination attempts.

Every single one fails.

Sniper? The Sniper was the only witness & everyone else believes Danny when he says he dodged it. Sure there's shattered glass and a hole in the chair where his head would be, but he hasn't got a scratch and everyone knows he's not a meta (or an alien - the human parents are proof of that even if they didn't have his medical records, which they do).

But the Sniper saw the bullet disappear through his head before shattering a bust. He knows and it's driving him crazy.

Poison? Danny grew up around ecto-contamination & now he has a ghost-half that can blitz stuff from his system with ecto. He's fine. Maybe some of his meals are 'spicier than I thought they'd be' but he's fine.

Direct attacks for stabbing & the like? He can fight. He's scrappy. He's the feral racoon of the family with all of the training Maddie gave them in hand to hand. His approval rating skyrocket when a guy tries to stab him and - rather than dodge or grab the arm throw him or something - doubles over to meet the wrist where it is and bites it before the knife can make contact.

The guy drops the knife but Danny just bites down harder. Then drops to his knees and whirls around - taking the guy with him - to pin the attacker in place with his own arms/legs. Still biting the guy's wrist. The move is reminiscent of how crocodiles take down prey & it becomes a meme.

And the Fentons being related to Killer Croc becomes a theory.

Jack & Maddie be like: Perhaps an evil ghost kidnapped a long lost relative & dropped him in Gotham? Maybe crocodile is anti-ghost meta gene? Can Crocodile is be good at hunt ghost? Adopt? Adopt crocodile murder man???

So yeah Jack & Maddie are now hunting killer croc to adopt/reform/turn into a ghost hunter

Danny runs for Mayor

Simple Prompt: Danny runs for the Gotham Mayor position

Extended Prompt: Danny is an absolute little shit throughout his entire campaign but still manages to win because he is legitimately one of the best candidates around

Just imagine the crack that could come from this!

Reporter: What is your stance on Vigilantism? Danny: Well I agree that Vigilantes are helpful for the communities that need them, and they should work with the police at every opportunity, I feel like the idea will always be a city where Vigilantes are not needed. Also I fail to see the relevancy of the question, there are no vigilantes in Gotham Reporter: What do you mean? What about the Bat-Family? Danny: No, Batman isn’t a Vigilante. Batman is a Crime Lord.

Or

Danny: As mayor, I promise that I will not be infected by corruption. Not because of my moral standings, but because I absolutely fucking hate clowns and I will never accept a bribe as long as that guy is still alive. Yes this is me putting a hit out on the Joker. Crime Bosses, if you want to try and bribe me, you gotta kill him first or I won’t even consider it!

Or

Batman: Why is a Meta-Human running for Gotham Office? You know this city doesn’t have a very good track record with people like you. Even the Signal had a rough start. Danny: Well, I just had a strong compulsion to help this city reach the peak of it’s potential *looks over Batman’s shoulder to see Lady Gotham holding up Cue Cards telling him what to say. She promised to help with his paperwork for the next 50 years if he became Mayor and helped fix her city* Danny: Such a strong compulsion…

Or

Penguin: Look kid, I don’t care if you have enough power to destroy me at the subatomic level, I have enough money to ruin you, your sister, your parents, even your uncle! Danny: Oh really? I could get the souls of every person you have ever killed to get confessions out of them. Or I could give them the power to rip you apart. Or I could even just possess you and donate all your money to charity.

Or

Danny: Oh god dammit! Vlad: Hello Badger! Glad to see you followed in my footsteps instead of your fathers! Danny: This wasn’t because of you! Lady Gotham asked for help! Vlad: A WIN IS A WIN!

[ashleyvictoriabaird]

Thinking Thinking Thinking

I am still very unsure about what my project will be/where my project will take place. I have ideas but none of them are standing out as being all that interesting to me. I think the only way I will become sure of an idea is to test it out by going and taking some test shots and seeing how they turn out.

In terms of locations that I'm hoping to try, I recently came across somewhere I had never heard of called Taitua Arboretum. It looks like a really lovely spot with lots of greenery and nature. My only worry is that I don't want to generate a whole lot of pictures just of nature and trees with nothing else too them.

In the mean time, while I think over my ideas a little bit more, I have been looking at artist models in the hopes to be inspired. My favourites I have come across so far include Stephen Shore, Jem Southam and Adrian Murray.

Stephen Shore is an American photographer known for his images of scenes and objects that are seemingly boring or ordinary. I really love the style of his photographs in that the subject matter is very simple - a street, a car, a storefront etc. - yet the way the photo is framed, the composition and the colouring all combine to make a really interesting image. Below are some of his photographs that I am particularly drawn too. I think I could take a lot of inspiration from his work in that his focus is less on what is in the photo and more about how the photo is taken.

Jem Southam is a British photographer known for his landscape work. I love the technique he uses where he takes a photo of the same scene/landscape at different times of the day or year. I think again that this is a technique that I could adopt to create more interest in a simple landscape image. Below is an example of one of his series showcasing this idea of time.

Adrian Murray is a photographer and father who creates magical photos of his kids and their teddy bear. Below are a few examples of his work. In my first post, I added an image of a bear in the mood board and have been toying with the idea of having that as a subject in my project. I then discovered Adrian's work and fell in love with the playfulness of the concept. I would have to think more about what I would want to say/ the meaning of having a bear in my images but I do really love the idea.

[crosspunisher]

“ let me see the wound. ” - from mia.

          This body has its limits. No matter what, this body was still human. He could be pricked at, tested on, injected with unholy, inhumane whatever's more than he had already been subjected to. It did not make him any more omnipotent, nowhere near. Regenerative drugs were the vices to his pain. One inhale is all it takes to get back on his feet, soothing burns and sealing cuts shut. Such vices killed him slowly, sure, but they were a hell of a lot better than feeling sore and sorry.

          At first glance, Nicholas did not deem this wound necessary of sparing rations, but he had no time to spare, he was far too impatient to mend it with his own two hands. He wanted to get out of this kingdom as quickly as he could, having been a walking target enough for one day. The sequence of events were all a blur. Trespassing royal property one second, arrows flying toward him as he made his escape through the castle's closing lattice the next. None landed — say for one, skewered straight through his right foot. Nicholas hopped along for what felt like a mile before the arrows flew by him less and less, fumbling into a nearby stable where an unfamiliar, unsuspecting face greets him in one of the most overwrought expressions the wolf had ever seen. And who could blame her? A bloody, fumbling stranger, appearing the most comedic he's ever been, just busted through her door!

          Swears of all colors fly around his mind as embarrassment overcomes him. Shit. Before he can turn heel to dash ( hop ) out the door, his personal space is invaded and filled with distraught, fretful muses from the woman before him. ❝ It's nothin', alright!? ❞ he exclaims, agitation clouding the fact he has an arrow sticking through his foot. Whatever pride he had before this very moment died. It died when he tucked tail and ran, impaled.

          Let me see the wound, the woman spoke softly. He would resist her requisition a few more times before finally giving up.

          Unable to uphold such obstinacy for one more second ( his own behavior beginning to agitate even him ), the wolf at long last relaxes, leaning against the hardwood wall as he succumbs to the princess's kindness. His behavior was childish, and the mere idea of using his drug in front of someone of such grace sunk the awkward pit in his stomach down further. Come on, get it together.

          ❝ This'll be quite the hacksaw job, huh doc? Hope you got enough towels. ❞ He jests in efforts to lighten the mood, hoping to distract all senses from focusing on the pain longer than he wanted them to. The prodding was uncomfortable, a sharp inhale hissing through his teeth as he watched delicate, nimble fingers examine his wound.

[talldarkandroguesome]

21st of Sun’s Dawn, Tirdas

It was a short survey of things with the manor and crypt. What time had I for more? Twenty four hours was all I was given to be out of the city.

So I made sure it was quick, but thorough work. Every servant was questioned individually and asked about their duties and how they were liking things. Then I went straight to the family tomb and I summoned uncle Tanval to make sure that he and the others were being properly tended to. He has done nothing but sing praises for the new regiment of prayers, cleaning, and offerings conducted by Hlavora. I did my own circuit as I was there, but other than the ritual pouring of water, I had no need to bring it. There was no dust or dirt in sight. Everything was kept as if it were a home, the smell of flowers and incense permeated the halls. I even spotted a couple of handmade offerings. I was impressed. And it seems all my ancestors are, too.

I shall have to see to it that some of the Council is brought here and made to see how good a job I am doing. That my constant trips to the city are well worth it. Maybe some of them would reconsider their own duties and how they press their scornful attitudes upon me.

I did congratulate Hlavora on her meticulous efforts. I explained that I was well pleased for how she followed my instructions to the letter and did things as I should like them done. She seemed very proud of receiving such praise and said that it was her honor to be taking care of the family crypt.

So, too, did I offer much to all of the house staff. Wanam-Jush in particular. As always he has been allowing for Hlavora to solely concentrate on her crypt duties, which means happier spirits, as well as keeping the home in excellent condition. I assured him that all of the staff was soon to be increasing their salary as soon as I was able to put in the next budget for my accounts.

Then, with my immediate business concluded, I made my way to the Harborage. I was happy to see that there were more furnishings and spiders. Everyone was in a pleasant mood. I surprised them during a meal and I was glad to see that they were all taking it there together.It seems that, although they still are maintaining their lives outside of the Harborage, they are making an effort to spend as much time together as possible.

There was a sense of apprehension about my arrival, but also a bit of a celebratory atmosphere. I told them that I had to finish some business before we all got started, but that I wanted to greet them sooner, rather than later. After some pleasantries I retired to my chambers and locked the behind me.

Then I sent Farayn with the usual message for Zethith.

We spoke about the usual Nest business. Of my continued training for the spiderlings and all their specialized lessons. Of what I wish to have my potential death weavers concentrate on and how I am going to be testing them. Of ways to take the others and start to spread our influence about the city. Including my stating that I was expecting that Tanur would soon have enough capital to start a business and begin to use it as a way to partake of more Mephalan arts out in the open. In a way that none will suspect, of course.

When we had settled the Nest business, I could finally broach the subject of Leythen. I asked them if it were possible for them to locate a specific soul within the Spiral Skein. They asked if this was a sacrificial victim or something else.

I said I wished to know if the soul of the previous Widow were there. 

They grinned and said that they could certainly know.

I asked if it would be possible for them to locate that person, that I might be able to meet with them, speak to them, ask them questions. I knew that even if Leythen were there, if it was not possible to speak to him or have him answer me in turn, that it would do little good.

Zethith replied that it was certainly possible.

I could guess at their coyness and decided it was best to be more direct. I told them I should like to do so if it were possible.

They said that it certainly could be, but that they would need something of a payment for going to such length. I eagerly asked after the cost and they explained that there were three options for me.

The first, as unspecified favor for later. This was clearly a very dangerous thing to agree to with a mortal, let alone a very powerful being such as my Weaver.

The second, was to humiliate one of their rivals. This seemed a natural option, for I wish to prove my loyalty and usefulness, but I would not wish to agree blindly. A powerful Daedra is likely to have powerful rivals.

The third, was to provide a gift that was of equal value to that which I was asking. If it was of acceptable value, they agreed they would do so.

Naturally, I asked after this rival. For I wished to know more about that option, particularly if I were to select such a choice.

As soon as I heard that it was one of Clavicus Vile’s inner court, I decided that it was best to go with the third option, which I selected and Zethith told me that we shall work on it as soon as I was able to deliver the payment to them.

I had little time to celebrate my good fortune, for there was much I had to teach and the ceremony to yet run.

The lessons are somewhat of a blur. As were the usual rites. Even our post ritual celebrations felt as though I were not entirely there. Not that I performed them any less sufficiently. Only, my mind was half locked upon my new goal. The ideas of what to provide as a gift continue, even now, to ruminate inside my mind.

I could not tell you many details of my return home, either.

Once I settle upon a gift, then I still have to see that it is made of a sufficient quality. I need to prove just how important this is to me. How much I long to see it done. To see Leythen once more.

What will I say to him? I do not even know.

I have so much to consider. To feel. To do.

My Prince, grant me strength.

[erabundus]

he  wants  to  shove  his  head  in  the  ground.  he  wants  to  scream.  he  wants  to  stop  existing.  he  wants  his  anger  to  burn  hot  enough  to  dissolve  them  all  in  a  sea  of  flames.  ultimately,  ren  chooses  to  do  none  of  the  above  —  instead  curling  his  hands  into  FISTS  in  the  hopes  it  might  quell  the  shaking.  no  such  luck,  but  at  least  it  feels  a  bit  less  noticeable.      ❝  she  must  have  been  one  of  the  lucky  ones.  ❞      ren  muses.  his  voice  sounds  rough,  almost  as  though  he  indulged  in  that  childish  impulse  to  shout  after  all.      ❝  most  of  them  aren't  so  fortunate ...  and  the  truly  unlucky  ones  aren't  afforded  the  luxury  of  a  proper  death  at  all.  ❞      he  allows  the  implication  to  hang  in  the  air  —  grotesque  and  rotten and cumbersome.  sometimes  elaboration  would  only  serve  to  LESSEN  the  horrors;  whatever  the  general  mahamatra's  mind  may  come  up  with,  it  can  only  ever  be  a  pale  imitation  of  reality.

❝  talking  about  it  won't  change  anything. not for me.  ❞      a  soft  laugh spills from the wanderer's lips, bitter and cold.      ❝  the  past  is  set  in  stone.  ❞      he  had  to  learn  that  lesson  the  hard  way.  trying  to  weave  those  AGONIES  into  words  only  stands  the  chance  of  reopening  old  wounds.  and  it's  funny  —  that  for  someone  whose  flesh  is  so  quick  to  knit  itself  back  together,  the  pain  inflicted  upon  his  nonexistent  heart  has  yet  to  stop  BLEEDING.  at  times  it  may  stem,  yet  it  never  ceases  completely.  he  is  perpetually  drowning  in  his  own  trauma  —  fighting  for  those  fleeting  moments  when  his  head  manages  to  break  the  surface.

aloud  the  wanderer  says,      ❝  imagine  every  pain,  every  indignity,  every  injustice  that  could  ever  be  inflicted  on  a  single  person ...  then  imagine  that  person  can't  die,  no  matter  how  harshly  you  might  treat  them. imagine this all taking place over the course of many, many years ... and that is only the beginning.  ❞      much  like  his  previous  strategy,  he  thinks  it's  better  to  leave  the  details  to  the  imagination.  he  still  isn't  in  the  mood  to  elaborate  —  but  he  thinks  a  bit  of  context  is  necessary  for  what  follows.

❝  i  swore  to  myself ...  i  would  never  be  his  test  subject  again.  yet  here  i  am,  walking  right  into  the  spider's  web.  ❞      a  hand  uncurls  —  only  for  slender  fingers  to  grab  violently  at  his  bangs.  twisting,  pulling,  and  he's  sure  it  has  to  hurt  but  the  sensation  feels  so  FAR  AWAY  somehow.      ❝  not  because  i  have  to.  not  because  i  was  ordered  to.  no ...  i  want  to  be  here.  ❞      he  wants  it  so  bad  he  can  almost  taste  it.      ❝  killing  him  won't  stick.  i'm  not  so  preoccupied  with  REVENGE  that  i  can't  see  it ...  ❞      that's  even  assuming  he  could.      ❝  he  deserves  something  worse  than  death.  he  deserves  to  have  his  life's  work  torn  apart  in  front  of  his  pathetic  face.  he  deserves  to  suffer  until  that  sharp  mind  crumbles  to  worthless  rust.  ❞      another  little  laugh escapes him.  in  contrast,  this  one  is  harsh  and  grating.  (  deeply  unpleasant  to  listen  to.  )      ❝  even  that  won't  be  enough!  ah, but beggars can't be choosers, right?  i'll  take  what  i  can  get ...  ❞

words  trail  into  an  uneasy  (  yet  brief  )  silence.  his  shoulders  tremble,  as  though  staving  off  a third  round  of  laughter.      ❝  don't  misunderstand.  ❞      the  wanderer  rasps,  voice  barely  above  a  whisper.      ❝  it's  not  what  he's  done  to  me ...  it's  what  he  did  to  get  me ...  and  all  the  lives  he  RUINED  in  the  process.  ❞ a pound of flesh for every spirit.

Did the possibility of Ren's control slipping pose a hazard? Certainly. Was this possibility what Cyno found himself most anxious over? Debatable. He didn't return to the grim task of exhuming potential evidence from the dead. Rather, his gaze settled on the condemning way Ren's hands had begun to TREMBLE.

It was perhaps the most human of gestures he'd seen, and that sheer novelty was enough to give him pause. Something had managed to shake him badly, and even the retrospective consultation of his recent banks of memory failed to elucidate what that something had been. Trying to map the boundaries of Ren's patience and composure was unnerving; this blanketing uncertainty sharp and poignant, like delving into the murk of a silt-spun current, unaware of the teeth that lurked below.

"History." Cyno nodded abruptly. "I understand."

Insecurity alone would not deter him. He was one of the few who carried the awareness of the Balladeer's story - that which precisely formed the rationale for his being sought as recourse in this private investigation - and with that in mind, HISTORY with the Fatui suddenly became an obvious nidus of perturbation, an outstanding balance yet to be settled.

"I once took charge of a child from Mondstadt. She'd escaped from one of the Doctor's laboratories."

"It takes time. Do you want to talk about it?"

[meamiya]

LESSON 1: BLOWJOBS with MIYA ATSUMU

synopsis♱ ‣ Best friend Atsumu gets the proposition of a lifetime. To accept or to not accept. 

cw♱ ‣ nsfw, gn!reader, blowjob (m!receiving), ball sucking, handjob, inexperienced reader and atsumu

word count♱ ‣ 2.3k words

author’s note♱ ‣ Hopefully this makes up for the crimes I have committed against ‘tsumi in the past. I love him so I have to give him a hard time of course. Enjoy!

♱ explicit content! minors do not interact ♱

“I have a proposition for you.”

The words leave your lips before you can draw them back in. This was definitely not one of your best ideas, but you’d already begun, and you weren’t about to give up just yet.

Atsumu pauses his endless swiping and glances up from his phone, giving you his full attention. “’m listening.” 

Atsumu has been your best friend since childhood. He’d been there when you’d started your awkward training bra phase and you’d been there for his horrid bowl cut era that had lasted a total of one hour. There was nothing that you two couldn’t talk about or do together, and you were about to test the boundaries of that statement.

“Can I give you a blowjob?”

Years of listening to podcasts and reading novels describing the intricacies of doing the deed had led you to this moment, where you wanted to test out the knowledge you’d acquired before going out into the real world. And since you were both single and bored, what better test subject than your best friend.

Atsumu’s expression had turned from curious to completely dumbfounded in the matter of seconds and you began worrying that he may refuse your proposal. Although, who could blame him? It’s not every day that your best friend proposes to suck you off.  

Your cheeks burn crimson as you rush to explain yourself. “I’ve never done it before, and I can’t think of anyone I trust more than you to give me some pointers. I mean you’ve had so many girlfriends over the years that you’d definitely know a thing or two. Or ten.” You joke, hoping to lighten the mood even the slightest bit.

No response.

Your rambling continues. “It will be completely platonic. It’s just that I have all this theoretical knowledge on how to do it and I want to see if it will actually work out before I make a fool of myself.”

As the seconds tick by your hands grow clammy and regret burns in your gut but you refuse to back down now. Maybe a little push would do the trick.

“I could always ask Osamu.”

“No! No!” You’ve finally broken through his dumbstruck expression and his exclamation gives you some form of hope. “Not that scrub. I’ll do it! I was just shocked for a second.” His expression quickly turns sheepish. “But I doubt I’d be of any help though.”

It was your turn to don the quizzical expression. “Why?”

With averted eyes and rosy cheeks, he scratches the back of his neck. “Well… Because I don’t have as much experience as ya think I do in that field. Actually…To be honest, I have no experience in that field.”

Blind shock passes through you, and you immediately look at him in disbelief. “No way. You’ve had so many girlfriends before. You can’t tell me that you’ve never gotten so much as a blowjob before.”

“Said it was degrading to them and I didn’t want to force anything. ‘sides, none of them lasted long anyway.” He admits embarrassedly.

To be fair, the main reason you’d chosen to ask Atsumu was because you had the notion that his past trysts would arm him with some helpful tips. It was definitely not because every time his shirt would rise an inch, displaying his deep v-line and a glimpse of his abs, your mouth would water just imagining your tongue licking from his happy trail to a place you could only envision in the darkness of your room when your fingers managed to drift into the wetness between your legs.

And now, with your best friend blushing like the virgin he was and his consent to your proposal, you were practically ready to pounce him.

You try but fail to hide your smirk as your crawl on hands and knees from where you had been sitting on the bed to where he rests against the headboard. “Guess today is your lucky day then, Mr Miya.”

As you approach him his eyes dart from side to side, never making eye contact with yours, his cheeks still tinted pink, and hands curled into the bedsheets at his side. You slowly make your way between his outstretch legs and place your hands gently on his thighs, feeling them tense in response.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to ‘tsumu.” You appease, gently running your palms over his sweatpants absentmindedly.

“No, I want to. Just nervous ‘s all.” He mutters.

You smile brightly at him as he finally makes eye contact with you, albeit reluctantly. “All you have to do is lay back and tell me if it feels good or not. Easy!”

You hear him scoff but your focus is now on removing his sweatpants. With Atsumu’s assistance they make their way to your bedroom floor in a matter of seconds and your eyes are immediately drawn to the half hard appendage resting between his juicy thighs, only covered by the material of his underwear. Drool pools in your mouth and you can’t wait to put it to use.

With as much self-control as you can muster, you try to recall what you had learned before diving in headfirst, literally.

Anticipation is key. Always keep them on their toes.

Your palms find their way to Atsumu’s thighs once again and run over the smooth muscle, squeezing gently as you travel higher. You hear a sharp intake and the change in his breathing to quick shallow breaths only motivates you further.

Deciding to take the plunge, you remove his shirt to reveal his prominent abdominals before you connect your lips softly to the very hairline you had been fanaticising about. A barely audible groan rumbles in his chest and you can barely contain your excitement. Your kisses travel lower until you finally reach the waistband of his boxers, and his breathing audibly quickens. You teasingly trace your fingertips the slightest bit under the waistband as you make eye-contact with your best friend, his pupils blown, and eyes focused intently on your movements.

Slowly, you ease his boxers down his long legs before tossing it to the floor alongside his sweats, never breaking eye contact. Unable to take the suspense any longer, your eyes travel down the length of his torso to his naked lower half.

And there lies something you had only even imagined in your dreams, his fully hard cock lying against his stomach leaking droplets of precum, with enough girth and length to leave your throat and jaw aching for days to come. You had never wanted to put something in your mouth more than in this moment.

The tip and the underside of the penis is the most sensitive. Pay it the attention it deserves.

Gently grasping the twitching member, you settle on your knees between his thighs and place wet kisses to his tip and down the length of his shaft.

“Fuck.” Atsumu groans quietly upon contact as his head droops to rest on his left shoulder.

Lubrication is important and your mouth produces it for free.

Gathering all the spit that had accumulated in your mouth, you hover just above the head of his cock and let it slowly drip down from your tongue to his tip, watching as it trails down his length to your fist at the base.

“Fuck, that was hot.” Atsumu comments and the praise goes straight to your wet pussy.

“I’m glad. Any other words of wisdom you’d like to share?” you joke as your hand begins to coat his length in your spit with each upward motion, squeezing slightly as you reach the tip.

You momentarily lose his attention as his body focuses solely on the pleasure your right hand is bringing him, soft pants leaving his mouth and his abs clenching with each stroke.

“Atsumu?” you try to grab his attention, slowing your movements until his hazy eyes focus on yours.

It takes him a second before he finally responds to your previous question. “Other than for you get on with it, I have nothing to say.”

Glad to see that his sarcasm is still intact, you happily grant his request.

Start off slow and make sure that you are enjoying the process as much as your partner is.

Your tongue flattens as you lick the underside of his shaft, from base to tip, before engulfing the head into your warm and awaiting mouth, applying a bit of suction before sliding it out with a pop. The saltiness of his precum is something you easily get used to, and you find yourself savouring the heady taste.

Atsumu’s back arches as he feels the heat of your mouth envelop him before it disappears all to soon for his liking. His moan resonates through the room and his fists grasp that much tighter on the bedsheets, sweat beading on his chest.

Before Atsumu even has time to catch his breath, your mouth descends once again, and this time you’re able to take more of his length. The combination of your twirling tongue and suctions drives him wild while the incessant rotations of your hand at his base have his head tossing side to side and his eyes rolling back.

With each bob of your head, you’re able to take more of him, but gagging on your best friend’s dick was not in the cards for today, regardless of how badly you wanted him to fuck your throat until you couldn’t speak a word. You decide to take a more throat-friendly approach, one you were the most curious about.

The balls are your friends and not to be feared. Don’t neglect them.

Using your free hand, you trail it up his rigid thigh and carefully cup his balls into your palm, massaging them softly.

The action catches Atsumu off guard and causes his body to jerk unexpectantly, thrusting his cock a bit too close to your throat. You unconsciously retract and gather some much-needed oxygen into your lungs, breathing deeply.

Atsumu immediately reaches for you, eyes wide and frantic. “Shit! ‘m sorry. It felt good I promise. I was just shocked.”

“I’m fine ‘tsumu. I was just shocked as well. Now let me get back to what I was doing.” You push at his chest with a smirk until he’s lying against the headboard once again, returning your focus back to his still hard cock and ignoring his worried glances.

Your right hand continues its strokes while you attend to the heavy sacks dangling between his legs once again. This time, instead of your hand, you place teasing licks and kisses along each sack and Atsumu sighs in pleasure, sinking further into the mattress.

“Feel good, ‘tsumu?” you ask.

“Mmm.” He moans in return, concern long gone.

Satisfied with his response, you drag an experimental lick from his perineum to his balls before taking one into your mouth while your free hand fondles the other. Atsumu’s moans sound heavenly to your ears and only spear you on to drag more out of him. You switch to the other side so that neither go unattended before your attention is drawn to the twitching of his cock.

Wanting to feel each twitch on your tongue, your lips find their way around his length once again, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth and mixing with his precum that leaks in droves now. Atsumu voices your thoughts.

“Fuck! Fuck! ’m gonna come soon. Ya better pull off.” His fingers tangle in your hair but he makes no attempt to move you.

Reluctantly, you slide off his dick with a pop in order to ask, “Do you wanna come in my mouth, ‘tsumu?”

Due to his unfocused gaze and unrestrained groans, his unfiltered response doesn’t surprise you. “Yes! Please let me come in your mouth!”

With renewed vigour, you swallow his cock once again, using both hands now to focus on the never-ending length that you are too inexperienced to take whole. The wet sounds and groans that resonate around you have only added to the tingling between your legs and clenching your thighs does little to quench the pleasurable burn.

You receive three warnings, Atsumu’s hands tightening the grasp they have on your hair, the relentless throbbing of his cock and a breathless “Comin’!” before the taste of hot and salty cum fills your tastebuds and throat.

You try to swallow as much as you can before the need for air kicks in, the rest coating your fingers and Atsumu’s cock. Since you didn’t want to waste a drop, you lock eyes with Atsumu’s half-lidded ones while cleaning up the remainder of his cum from your body and his, licking your lips and drawing one last unabashed groan from him.

“So, how was it?” you ask cheerfully, in direct contrast to your best friends drained state, both physically and mentally.

“Ain’t no way that was ya first time doing that. My legs feel like jelly.” He admits breathlessly.

His reaction brings a smile to your face, and you’d be damned if you let this end all too quickly. “So, same time tomorrow?” you ask.

The look on Atsumu’s face coupled by his naked state is almost comical. “Wait, what?”

“Well, I haven’t been able to test out all that I’d learned. Did you think this was a one-time thing?” you ask innocently, an obvious ploy but one he falls for, nonetheless.

And when two days, turns to three days, turns to 4 years, and you’re able to wake up next to your best friend every morning, you’re glad you had the balls to go after his balls.

[letarasstuff]

Ranting

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it :)

Summary: In the middle of midterms, Spencer's daughter has enough and for the first time in her life, she rants to the team

Warnings: one swear word, school, school stress, mental breakdown, shitty friends, a bit of angst (but there is fluff to balance that out), weird grammatical sentences that are according to google correct

Wordcount: 2.3k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________ As a teenager, Spencer was pretty closed off. But this had several reasons, like being a child (or moreover a teen prodigy) at college and getting his first Ph.D, or that he hadn’t had a safety net of people he could have gone to. So as he became a father himself, he tried everything possible to assure his own daughter that her feelings and thoughts are always welcome and valid.

Unfortunately (Y/N) herself has developed the same habit starting high school and ever since Spencer can’t do anything to get her to open up to him. It’s not like they don’t have a good relationship, they have one of the strongest father-daughter bonds the BAU has ever witnessed. The girl simply has other ways to cope with her feelings and how to act them out in the safety of her own four walls. Her father learned to accept it, knowing that he can’t and won’t force her to talk to him.

So what follows now not only shocked Spencer. But also his work family.

It’s the time every teen in high school dreads: Midterms.

A word a teacher can mutter and a shiver goes through the rows of students in the classroom. Or at least it feels like it to (Y/N). She takes her school work very seriously. In her mind every single grade determines her future.

The rational part in her knows that the grades in her sophomore year doesn’t matter. That they are even long forgotten when she graduates. There is just so much pressure on her. But it isn’t coming from her father.

Spencer is pretty laid-back regarding school. He knows his daughter is trying her best and that it’s just the tenth grade and not the end of the world. School is not everything life has to offer, especially he has to know it as a scholar and profiler flying through the country in a jet back and forth.

It’s (Y/N)’s classmates, who pressure her to get good grades.

“We depend on you and your notes”, Tyler exclaims as he jogs next to her through the busy hallway. “Ty, I know. But I don’t have the time to get them done for all of you to understand by tomorrow. They are still a mess that only I know to see through. I still have to finish my history project and I go to my Dad’s work this afternoon, which means I won’t get much done and I still have to do the homework I got today before sorting my notes for the test in two days.”

At her locker, the boy still doesn’t let go of the subject. “Do you want to say that our grades don’t matter as much as yours? Because this would be a true selfish statement.” Maybe it is the lack of sleep, because she pulled three all-nighters in two weeks, or the fact that she is slowly getting fed up being treated like an unpaid private teacher, but (Y/N) can’t stop her sassy answer. “Tyler, you wouldn't even know how to tell apart your ass from your head if it weren’t for me and my help in biology. You wouldn’t even know how to spell selfish if I didn’t let you copy my answers in spelling tests in elementary school.”

Done with the day and her friend’s shit, she slams the door of her locker shut and leaves a flabbergasted boy behind. Half an hour later the teenager enters the bullpen with her visitor badge clipped to the pocket of her sweater.

On the way there she was fuming. The audacity of her friends. It’s not only Tyler, who tried to get her notes of a unit, she was the only one listening, even though the teacher said loud and clear that this will be important for midterms. A few other friends out of the group she usually hangs out with texted her the same question of when her notes will be given to them. Understandably, (Y/N) comes into the office in the worst mood anyone from the team ever saw, including her own father.

“Hey Sweetheart”, he tries to greet her with a hug. Even though both of them are not big on touch, they are extra affectionate with people they are close to.

To everybody’s surprise, the girl takes a step back, effectively avoiding his open arms. “Hey”, she grumbles out before taking a seat in the chair already waiting for her. Nobody is allowed to sit in this one, except for her. Not even Derek has ever put his butt on this one, knowing the sacredness of it.

Without sparing anyone another glance, (Y/N) gets the needed stuff for that history project out and continues working on it. The team resorts to throwing a questiongly look to Spencer, who shrugs his shoulders with a look of despair. So everyone resumes their work without even daring to say a word.

The general silence is occasionally broken by an unnerved sigh leaving the teenager’s lips. “Is the conference room occupied?” She asks, her voice clearly showing how annoyed she is. Her father shakes his head. “No, not that I know of. Do you need help with your school work?” This is obviously the wrong thing to say. “Do I look like a baby? I don’t need anyone to help with that, I have been going to school for ten years now, I think I can handle this project as perfectly fine as I did since day one. It’s just your keyboard typing that will be the reason for my first grey hairs if I don’t get out of here soon.”

Quickly (Y/N) gathers her stuff and storms off into the conference room. Immediately the team crowds her father’s desk. “What happened?” “Who hurt her?” “Go, talk to her!”

“Guys, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m at the same loss as all of you. The only thing I know is that (Y/N) is under pressure, because it’s midterms. But judging by the way she reacted, I don’t want to go near her. It’s safer to try to defuse a bomb than talk to her in that mood. Last time I saw something similar, her favorite show was declared finished, got a revival and then didn’t get one and nobody mentioned it again. She was so mad, I think it took three years of her life.” A silence of uncertainty spreads through the room.

“What about we give her some room until she calms down?” JJ suggests, being unsure herself how to deal with a teenage girl. But the rest agrees and goes back to filling out their paperwork.

This continues for about 20 minutes, till a loud bang and a frustrated scream is heard followed by “DON’T THEY WANT TO GET IT OR ARE THEY JUST STUPID?!” Alerted by that, seven people (yes, even Dave and Aaron leave their offices, while Penelope was already in the bullpen) storm into the round table room only to see a more than outraged (Y/N).

“Sweetheart”, Spencer speaks to her in the gentlest voice they ever heard from him and slowly moves towards his daughter, “What’s going on?”

Her response is delayed by several deep breaths she has to take in order to be able to talk without seething. “ALL OF MY SO CALLED FRIENDS ARE ASKING ME FOR MY NOTES, like do I look like a personal tutor? And when I tell them that I got a life, a life outside of school and grades, because otherwise I go completely bananas, just like all of you say, they get mad. Now they act like I’m the most selfish person in the whole world. I’m so done, can’t they understand that they are old enough to take care of their own stuff? I’m not responsible for them, their grades or anything regarding their lives. Otherwise I would be the mother of at least four toddlers and one baby and at the age of sixteen I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I know friends are there for eachother, and I really don’t mind helping them from time to time. But what they are doing is terror. Terror.

“Oh and don’t get me started on their tormention if I get something lower than an A-. Then they suddenly transform into geniuses, like they suddenly know everything possible. Of course, I’m the dumb one. I should have studied more.

“I am under an insane amount of pressure, because I know they rely on me, but enough is enough. I tell them that if anyone asks me for anything school related again and they act like I owe them an answer, I’ll cut off all ties to all of them. What am I, a roboter just there for their needs, without some of my own?”

After her long rant, (Y/N) takes a couple more breaths. It’s pretty much the only sound right now, because the team is stunned. None of them heard her talking, no ranting, like that. Not even her Spencer has seen her like that.

Realizing what she just said, the teenager fidgets nervously with her hands. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know, blow up like that. I, I really don’t know where this came from.” Nervously she scratches the back of her head. It really wasn’t her intention to let it out like that. Her plan was just to come home tonight and deal in the confinement of her own four walls with all of her feelings. It’s easier to be honest to yourself when you are alone than having an audience watching you losing it.

Suddenly (Y/N) finds herself engulfed in a massive bear hug. “Oh, my sweet sweet summerchild. You needed to rant to us and I’m so happy you did. Even though your uhm, friends, sound like big douchebags, we can help you sort something out”, Penelope tells her while keeping her arms around the teen.

“Just like lil mama said, we are here for you, Baby Reid. Don’t ever be afraid to tell us something, may it even be as small as you having stubbed your toe.” Morgan ruffles her hair and gives her a reassuring smile.

Just like them everybody shows her their support, be it encouraging words or affectionately gestures. Rossi invites her to a calm and quiet dinner at his mansion, cooking class included. Hotch assures her that she will get through this rough patch, with or without these fake people. JJ suggests (Y/N) comes over to her home and she can participate in a family game night at their home.

When it’s Emily’s turn, she makes sure to get her message loud and clear by looking the teen in the eyes (not as deep as it sounds, because some people make an intense stare really uncomfortable): “If those kids give you a hard time again, tell me. I’ll pay them a visit in classic protective godmother fashion, because nobody traits MY godchild like this. Just give me their names and I’ll handle the rest.” Obviously she doesn’t say this aloud in front of everyone, else Hotch will have her head, knowing she goes through with her threats. Instead she whispers it into the teen’s ear. Still, it makes (Y/N) smile, having such a strong support net.

Sensing the family’s need for time of their own to talk about the whole situation, the team leaves the room. Spencer gestures to her to take a seat after moving two chairs opposite each other. He wants her not to feel trapped.

“Do you still want to talk about it? It doesn’t have to be now, we can do it tonight, tomorrow, in a week or in a month. Just, please don’t shut me out. I know it’s difficult to be a teenager, especially in times like these. But it won’t do you any good keeping all of this for yourself. Today you took it out through anger. How will it look next time?

I don’t want to pressure you into talking. We don’t need to. We can find other coping mechanisms. We can try and reduce your stress. Anything. But we both know that this is not the right way.” While speaking, he takes his daughter’s hand, making her look up to him.

(Y/N) nods. Her eyes fill with tears. “I just can’t keep going like this.” She whispers, feeling all the stress, pressure and the intensity of the last few weeks crashing down on her. Quickly Spencer gathers her in his arms, letting her cry in his embrace.

After calming down, she looks up to her father with bloodshot eyes. “We can talk tonight. But I need you to do me a favor.” “Anything”, he assures her, stroking a hand along her back. “I, uhm, I need a new phone. I may or may not have thrown mine against the wall after getting a text from Tyler.”

Spencer looks at the crooked cell laying on the floor, the screen cracked. “I think we can get that sorted”, he tells her with a smile and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

The two of them leave the office earlier, having many things to talk about and many problems to solve. But with the help of her family (Y/N) gets through this, a time where people unfortunately only like her for her smarts and not being herself.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

[theatreakasunaaaa]

Akatsuki  stuff. 

Yesterday  I  had  entirely  wanted  to  write  up  a  big  autistic  thought  dump  about  the  Akatsuki,  particularly  about  Sasori  and  Deidara  and  the  misconceptions  about  their  relationships  and  the  wider  relationships  of  the  Akatsuki.  I’ve  done  this  a  few  times  before  though  so  there  is  no  doubt  multiple  more  detailed  posts  about  this  on  my  old  Sasori  archives,  but  I  can’t  resist  mentioning  some  things  again,  especially  after  Toxic  ( Over  on  onetoxickiss )  made  a  great  post  on  a  similar  subject  about  Hidan.

Basically  I’ve  always  maintained  that  the  Akatsuki,  practically  all  of  them,  have  had  closer  bonds  then  a  lot  of  people  give  credit  for  in  the  fandom.  The  fandom  consensus  as  I  knew  it  was  the  Akatsuki  all  hated  each  other,  and,  honestly,  yes  while  they  all  def  had  their  differences  and  would  def  squabble  for  me ?  It  more  had  a  dysfunctional  family  vibe,  for  lack  of  a  better  description,  than  a  “they  all  truly  hate  each  other  and  are  forced  to  work  together”  vibe.

The  pairs  of  Akatsukis  were  VERY  well  placed.  if  you  actually  look  into  it,  the  histories,  the  personalities,  etc,  they  are  all  very  similar  yet  dissimilar  and  actually  “share”  more  than  what  might  be  obvious. The  duos  were  all  noted  to  work  insanely  well,  they  truly compliment  each  other  and  honestly  it  makes  perfect  sense  that  all  the  partner  combos  def  seemed  to  share  a  bond  with  each  other.

Many  of  the  members  of  Akatsuki  were  mentally  ill,  and /  or  extremely  traumatized,  not  to  mention  the  general,  uh,  societal  and  cultural  norms  of  the  Naruto  world  for  Shinobi,  which  does  attuite  to  how  the  Akatsuki  expressed  their  comradery  with  each  other,  but  none  the  less  the  bonds  and  the  genuine  comradery  was  there.

For  Sasori  in  particular  he  absolutely  cared  about  Deidara,  they  were  absolutely  friends,  for  lack  of  a  better  term.  I  actually  think  Sasori  liked  to  fashion  himself  as  a  ‘mentor’  to  Deidara  in  a  strange  way  and  that  seemed  to  make  the  most  sense  between  them.  A  lot  of  people  will  say  Sasori  didn’t  respect  Deidara’s  view  of  art  and  the  kinship  between  them  was  one  sided  but  that's  not  the  case.  Sasori  and  Deidara  routinely  squabbled  about  art  and  its  nature,  they  would  even  battle  over  it,  but  the  fact  that  they  both  walked  away  from  these  “battles”  entirely  unscathed  and  otherwise  in  a  decent  mood  showed  the  battles  were  more  friendly  tests  of  each  others  medal  then  serious  fights.

Sasori  had  a  habit  of  “lashing”  out  at  Deidara  but  if  you  actually  examine  why  Sasori’s  lashing  out  it  makes  sense  and  registers  less  as  lashing  out  because  he  hates  him  and  more  lashing  out  because  hes  trying  to  protect  him  in  a  roundabout  way.  Deidara  had  a  habit  of  running  into  things  without  being  completely  prepared  and  kinda  “winging”  it.  Deidara’s  view  of  life  and  death  wasn’t  very  “serious,”  so  to  speak.  To  Deidara  all  life  was  “fleeting”,  this  was  something  he  injected  into  his  art  and  reflected  his  view  of  true  beauty  and  artistic  value,  so  he  wasn’t  as  concerned  with  self  preservation  as  Sasori  believed  he  should  have  been. Sasori  was  someone  who  was  taught  to  plan  and  prepare  ahead  and  came  to  loath  the  “ephemeral”  nature  of  human  life.  He  was  a  child  solider  who  routinely  lost  those  he  loved  to  death  and  began  to  reject  the  notion  of  death  as  much  as  a  mortal  could  due  to  this.

So  when  Sasori  was  constantly  pestering  and  chiding  Deidara  about  his  lack  of  plans  and  perpetuation  and  pushing  him  to  think  more  and  prepare  for  battles  better  it  was  really  out  of  kidness  more  than  trying  to  make  himself  an  adversary.  He  was  trying  to  “save”  Deidara  from  a  premature  death,  the  kind  of  death  Sasori  had  always  ‘worried’  would  befall  Deidara  from  the  moment  they  met.

In  fact  Sasori’s  attempts  to  “save”  Deidara  from  death,  in  ways  that  didn’t  necessarily  interfere  with  Deidara’s  own  artistic  view  point  or  disrespect  it  by  overriding  it  entirely  with  his  own,  is  kind  of  the  absolute  ultimate  peek  from  of  “love” /  “kindness”  from  Sasori.  He  defo  regarded  Deidara  as  his  friend,  probably  the  best  friend  he’s  ever  had  since  the  traumatizing,  psyche  breaking  death  of  his  childhood  friend,  Komushi.  and  funnily  enough  Komushi  and  Deidara  were  similar  in  the  sense  that  despite  the  dangerous  lives  they  were  pushed  into  they  were  energetic  and  largely  carefree,  contrasting  Sasori  who  has  been  described  as  gloomy  and  brooding.

Theres  actually  quite  a  few  “parallels”  between  Deidara  and  Komushi  that  no  doubt  stick  out  in  Sasori’s  mind  and  furthermore,  something  that  I’ve  never  seen  talked  about  is  that  for  SOME  REASON  Deidara  not  only  knew  all  about  Sasoris  “real”  body  ( its  been  noted  not  many  Akatsuki  members  knew  Hiruko  was  completely  a  puppet  and  what  Sasori’s  true  body  actually  was/looked  like )  but  elevating  this  Deidara  not  only  knew  about  Sasori’s  “real”  body  he  knew  about  Sasori’s  “true”  form  on  top  of  that.  He  knew  what  Sasori  actually  was  which  means  he  essentially  knew  all  about  Sasori’s  one  weak spot.  This  is  something  Sasori  would  have  had  to  reveal  to  him  at  some  point  and  it  would  not  be  in  Sasori’s  nature  to  reveal  that  type  of  info  to  anyone  he  considered  his  enemy.  That  I  think  is  one  of  the  most  damning  pieces  of  evidence  toward  whether  or  not  Sasori  and  Deidara  actually  had  a  friendly  relationship. As  for  the  rest  of  Akatsuki ?  Sasori  may  not  have  been  as  close  to  every  member  but  he  DID  ‘respect’  them.  He  found  them  all  unique  and  fascinating  and  thought  every  one  of  them  had  a  place  in  his  puppet  collection.  He  enjoyed  learning  about  and  viewing  their  different  abilities  and  techniques.  Practically  all  members  of  the  Akatsuki  had  proven  themselves  as  the  ‘best’  of  the  best  and  it  was  had  not  to  feel  a  sense  of  admiration  for  that.  Sasori  was  regarded  as  one  of  the  strongest  shinobi  and  certainly  the  strongest  Shinobi  Suna  had  ever  produced  at  that  point.  It  wasn’t  often  that  Sasori  ever  felt  he  was  among  his  peers  or  his  ‘equals’  taking  his  somewhat  ostracizing  “prodigy”  status  into  consideration  and  the  rather  “”lonely””  life  Sasori  had  lived  previously  to  Akatsuki. He  had  genuine  loyalty  to  Akatsuki,  and  actually  was  curious  to  see  if  Akatsuki’s  ultimate  plan  would  ever  come  to  fruition.  Its  not  like  he  felt  he  had  anything  better  to  do,  honestly.

[everythingheard]

When that email had appeared in Leon's inbox on July 2, he had only needed a quick glance at the subject line to ascertain the identity of the sender: ' remember when you tried to give me a half a sweater because the desert was cold? ' It could only be from Claire Redfield, and of course he remembers. That had been one of those moments he recalls feeling almost thorough, unabashed happiness, so close to a tangible sensation that he might have sworn he could reach out and touch it. They had been running high on adrenaline, flush with the excited hope that a few missions to take down Umbrella might end the nightmare, and Leon had glanced over at Claire and thought, Maybe once this is all over for good — ! Never, even in his most dour moods back then, would he have imagined that in short order, he would ransom his freedom and future in exchange for Claire and Sherry Birkin's. Not in a million fucking years.

Regardless, none of that had been running through his mind as he hovered over the message with uncharacteristic hesitancy. The memory that instead flashed in Leon's mind like a caution flare was the two of them standing outside four months earlier, him in a suit that he hated and her with her arm in a sling, as his fingers curled around the data chip in his palm while she looked at him with an anger he had never before received the brunt of. The subject line had been compelling, though ( she had probably known it would be, crafting it as an olive branch of sorts ), and won out as he opened it. Typed lines of text awaited him that only exacerbated his confusion, yet they didn't sound mad. Apprehension had built at the mention of telling Leon something that he wouldn't like, but her assurance that she understood and the manner in which she closed out the message quelled it before it could begin to spiral.

He had spent far too long readying his reply for how short it ended up, although it was sent before the day had ended.

Subject: Re: remember when you tried to give me a half a sweater because the desert was cold? Pizza in Georgetown it is, then. Just name the day. Sincerely (why don't we put that bold claim about the bikes to the test when we see each other?), Leon

Before the end of the month, after he answered a call from Ingrid Hunnigan, he would wonder whether Claire even found the chance to read it.

Receiving a call from Hunnigan? Usual. A request from Hunnigan to meet in-person? Not usual. Leon might have teased her about it were her voice not laden with an extra degree of severity that curbs any notion of humor. Something is more than wrong. By the time he arrives, his nerves are clawing at him from the inside, though the only outward suggestion of it is an agitated edge to his walk as he passes through the halls and a subtle, intermittent clenching of his fists. Nevertheless, everything she briefs him on is far worse than he could have conjectured — because it's something he's never seen before, because it's Mara, because it's Claire. This new agent answers Leon's queries ( posited with an unintentional hint of aggression he can't temper ) quickly and concisely; the guy's likely accustomed to explaining this shit regardless of the scenario. As they start to leave, Hunnigan's voice calls out behind him: ' Be careful, Leon. ' It gives him a slight twinge in his chest to hear and, glancing back over his shoulder, he catches her gaze as he nods.

The whole way there, Claire's screams from the video Hunnigan showed him reverberate through Leon's mind.

By the time he and his companion are separated and he's made his way to the castle facility where it's suspected that Mara and Claire are being held, the only distraction from the echoing sound that he's garnered is complete focus on whatever's in front of him at precisely each moment, and his grip on the gun in his hands. With each corner he rounds, he repeats to himself that it's one closer to finding them until it's akin to a mantra: I'm one step closer, I'm one step closer, I'm one step closer. Nonetheless, every room Leon clears and searches yields no results, even those that appear set-up specifically for the purposes he assumes Claire has been kept for. Where is she? Advancing down the hall, he's met with a few more armed obstacles; most are eliminated quickly, and he sends a slighter one who keeps grabbing for his firearm crashing through a nearby rickety, wooden door with a forceful kick to the chest. "Opening the door for me, what a gentleman." The few stragglers follow him into what looks like nothing more than a storage room before they're each taken out by a bullet to the head that sends them staggering back into the piles of crates littered across the floor.

Surely they're not keeping Mara or Claire here, though a brief once over for any possible clues isn't a bad idea. Although Leon hates the notion of wasting time, he also couldn't live with himself if he missed anything in a reckless haste that might help. Perhaps there are some charts or notes kept in the old cabinet in the corner —

Without a second to move in that direction, a figure suddenly launches at him from the shadows. Are you fucking kidding me? However, at the flash of dark hair and a familiar face, his eyes widen. "Claire?" Even as Leon says it, fingernails dig against his skin and raised fists slam into him. "Claire, it's me!" Instinctively, he reaches out to grip her wrists, forcing her away from him though he doesn't let go. That's when their eyes finally meet, and recognition dawns across her features. When his name stutters past her lips, a profound relief washes over him; she's still herself, she's still Claire. Leon's grasp on her loosens then, yet he still doesn't drop it.

' Did I hurt you? ' At the question, a breath catches oddly in his throat. Not this time. Not like she had in March, when the way she had looked at him hurt like a blade scraping bone. Since they had met, Claire's gaze catching his had always imbued him with a sort of hope, a quiet happiness that he can't expound upon with words. He hadn't been her weapon or her savior, just Leon. She had made him feel normal and important at the same time, even when he had felt the least normal or important he had ever been. Claire had always seen him. At least, until it had seemed as if she didn't. That she had believed Leon would withhold information from her for any reason except to protect her, that she had told him the suit he was wearing wasn't him as if he actually liked it and everything it stood for — ? His silence certainly hadn't helped; perhaps he had hurt her, too. But he couldn't tell her the truth then, just as he isn't about to speak any of this aloud now.

"It's okay, I'm fine." But she's not. "And we're gonna get out of here." The tears in her eyes shove everything else to the wayside ( the fact that he should be asking her whether they've realized yet that she's gone and if they're looking for her since she's clearly not supposed to be in a supply room, or trying to call Hunnigan to report that he's found her ); Leon can't focus on anything but her. "Claire — " Dropping his left hand's hold on her arm, he presses his palm against the side of her neck, his fingers brushing beneath her hair. "I can't imagine what you've been going through." He'll do whatever he has to so that they never fucking touch her again. "But whatever happens, we'll fight through this. Together."

thread: the prismya incident tuesday, july 25th-friday july 28th, 2006 @everythingheard (leon) also featured in overall incident: @myersbprd, claire, ingrid, mara, & jill

-

tuesday, july 25, 2006 4:45am (stateside local) mild rain, gray morning skies, humid

the screen is eerily blank for multiple seconds, the sounds of clattering items all that's emitted above the gentle static. muttering comes next, a woman's frustration coming through with no visual to accompany it until a silhouette appears, out of focus.

'come on, come on, yes! it worked!'

emits the voice, hushed but triumphant as what can be assumed is keys of what might be an old keyboard by the heavy sounds of it are pressed in the audio. the picture is grainy, as if there's some kind of interference yet it does finally come into focus to display a woman looking at the camera and addressing an agent with a name hunnigan hasn't come across before. the name is typed into a second monitor upon her station though a voice on the phone she's balancing on her shoulder halts her. tells her to wait and watch. the woman on the screen looks a bit worse for wear. there's a small gash on her forehead that looks as if it's scabbed over and the scrubs she wears look wrinkled and disheveled as if they've been worked in a while. it's not what's shocking about the video. hunnigan has seen a lot both in her own field experiences before she'd taken a desk job and in the displays from messages from various agents she aids who are in the field.

she's seen kennedy a hell of a lot worse for example.

what's shocking comes from the words which emit from the woman's lips. she speaks quickly, to the point, an attempt to relay as much information as possible in an efficient manner. hunnigan appreciates it. a final stage of a virus is synthesized and will have enough produced for the final stage of an attack within forty-eight hours. possibly less, most likely less. she's only piecing together what she's been able to hear and catch glimpses of. she's being monitored constantly but one of the other scientists speaks to her as they work, whenever they get the chance to, and he seems to be an ally. the process appears to be faster because of the nature of vampiric materials.

vampiric?!

the camera is shifted, loses focus for a moment when it's lifted and redirected over a blurry file that hunnigan already knows is going to have to get sent for enhancement. she can just barely see the name claire red.field on it though ingrid isn't sure if she actually saw the name clearly or if it's her brain piecing it together by virtue of the fact the woman voices the name a moment later. the camera pans too quickly over a separate video feed, camera on camera distorting the picture with lines-- yet, some can be made out. maybe the worse of it is the sound.

there's screaming. wild, scared, pained.

there's frenzied movement on the screen of the screen. there's what ingrid thinks is a woman attacking a man in scrubs and then her being forced back down and injected with something and she thinks the woman cries something to the effect of 'not again' after some profound swearing in-between. maybe that's really the most shocking part because ingrid has never met redfield but she's seen agent kennedy's file and seen claire's picture in it because the girl and leon had escaped raccoon together and as distorted as the picture may be, ingrid understands in the pit of her stomach what she's seeing is the same woman.

the camera pans back once more to the woman sending it with her rattling off something about redfield having been the key to the virus and a location. about something being wrong. she shouldn't have been able to get to this terminal let alone send this video she's not sure where the guards are but she's uploading the communication now and praying they get it. to please send the bprd or anyone they can. there's a sound, a groan really, which emits somewhere in the room the woman is in and she looks away before turning back and starting to say to 'tell leon...' something... but it's cut off with the transmission going dark and somehow, that's when something else connects in ingrid's mind and she chastises herself for not having realized it sooner. she's seen this woman's picture in leon's file too. it's his cousin that survived the attack on their family when agent kennedy was a child.

okay. ingrid thinks. okay. okay.

the voice on the phone begins speaking again, giving ingrid little time to recover even as she begins opening various windows at her computer station. it reveals more information to her. information about the bureau of paranormal research and defense. of an outbreak in a polish village the year before, about redfield being part of the bprd-- which doesn't exist on paper except as the fbi's special operations division. it tells her mara a kennedy was an informant in a company run by fucking vampires. vampires! it tells her a select few members of the bsaa, valentine and the other redfield have been contacted and are deploying with bprd on route to prismya where there's been some strange reports of attacks in the last twenty-four hours. they'll meet agent kennedy there and she needs to relay all this information to him and get him on a military flight leaving in two hours. it's a lot. it's chaos. but it's a chaos she can handle. she has to. first, however, she needs to finish dialing agent kennedy's number.

she does and takes an unusual step further, tells him he needs to get to headquarters immediately, with no delays. she needs to meet with him in person. and someone needs to meet with him, a bprd agent myers who'd be going on a mission with him, reinforcements already on-route to meet them there. she doesn't tell him why but her vocal pattern shows the seriousness of it. she greets the bprd agent in a room off the corridor of the building where the light always flickers and the work order for it has gone into the abyss of low priorities. when agent kennedy gets there she tells him all she knows, she shows him the video, and she lets the bprd agent tell him the rest of the pertinent information as she goes to gather more information for herself to aid them in the field.

'leon, be careful.'

she calls out to him as she watches him and the other agent leave for the military base (that transport would get them to europe faster than other means). ingrid, rarely calls him by his first name but this was uncharted territory. this was personal territory, at least for him. almost twelve hours later hunnigan has some communication with the bsaa, redfield and valentine, helps them navigate a nightmare on the ground that they'd flown into. she's not usually involved with the bsaa but this whole mission was.. well, there was a lot of players in the game at once and they all had the same ultimate goals. she had the feeling she'd be patching them all into each other the whole time.

fifteen, almost sixteen hours after leon leaves, when hunnigan gets word from that leon and the bprd agent have gotten separated after they'd gotten to one of the companies' facilities where he thinks the outbreak started (an outbreak that wasn't part of the main plot and shouldn't have happened) and that they'd found indications mara and claire had been moved to some location in the countryside but then leon and myers had gotten separated after a car crash outside a local village she's not surprised so she helps him navigate as far toward the castle facility as her access to sat feeds will allow. somehow, this feels a bit like spain all over again. she certainly thinks the stakes are just as high for her agent in the field. this wasn't the president's daughter but it was his family and his friend and a hell of a lot of innocent people's lives at stake.

wednesday, july 26, 2006 8:13am (prismya local) prismya countryside, mountain valley filled with small villages and an expansive castle complex which used to house the local ruler of the region. has held an increase in activity, construction equipment, and people to the area in recent years. also many disappearances. rainy and dark gray skies, foggy, cloudy, low visibility

she's cold. then she's hot. both make her hurt like a fucking train is chugging through her blood stream and making her want to tear into something but they've taken everything away she could possibly break after she'd managed to turn a part of the bed into something she could stab with. it'd been a blunt edge but she'd still managed with a spirt of strength to impale one of the people that'd come into the room to sedate her with it. her mind is scattered, hair messy and in all directions around her shoulder's when she awakens in a new place. mara's no where in sight but claire is sure she'd seen her. she's positive. she wasn't losing her mind. she wasn't. she'd seen her. she had! metal surfaces are around her, there's a camera too. she attacks it with her bare hands. they come into the room. she can't remember what happened after that. she thinks she drew blood. or they drew her blood? no, she'd hurt one of them. she's sure. the feel of a badge, a key.. she'd hurt him, the man injecting her, but he'd slipped her something. why? she doesn't understand. was he the one mara said was a friend? is she imagining it? but he hurt her. did he have a choice?

wait.. then.. now. then wasn't now. that already happened. key.. badge. her body hurts. she's thirsty but she's not supposed to be. she can't let herself be. remember. remember to fight it. mara had said the longer she does the slower the infection will move through her. she'd said that, back at the other place. where is mara? where is she? her body shifts, rolls over where it'd passed out before. flashes of memories playing at her mind. she tires to piece together her memories. her eyes aren't open but she sees....

there'd been a mission. she can remember that. but then.. so much death. she'd fought. injections.. experiments. she'd fought. she'd screamed. she'd attacked. it hurt. her mind scatters. she remembers a desert. no, that was a long time ago. she remembers a police station. no that was further away. blonde hair.. she remembers a dinner with a child laughing and the surprise on their faces when another person had shown up at their door with pizza from that hole in the wall place she'd taken sherry to and mentioned. it wasn't an every-day thing, the three of them getting to spend time together and so they'd held on to it at the time. a thread, it forms a thread into another string of flashes. a chip. anger... understanding.. an email.

'stop being like that claire, just send the god damn fucking email.' she'd told herself.

the thread.. mission. facility. he'd slipped her something to escape. she'd gotten out. they'd chased her. a crash. something spilled. screams. zombies but.. different, she thinks. had to find a lift. had to find a way up. a way out. metal turned to stone. corridors. maze. castle? they'd found her. blood. she'd stabbed. she'd stabbed them, not bitten. she hadn't bitten. but they'd stabbed her too, she thinks. maybe? find somewhere to hide. hide first. figure out next step after. there'd been a room. supplies in it. boxes. she remembers boxes.. utah had boxes. rebecca had gotten shot. the boxes had fallen. circle the memories back. boxes in front of her. climb. hide on top. she wants to see her brother. she wants to see leon. to not have how they last saw each other be the last... claire passed out.

it's cold against her skin but her body feels hot. sweaty, clammy. dark veins creep along her arms. she's only wearing a thin tank top type shirt with pants, she should have tried to find something but there hadn't been time. it wasn't as much of a concern as escape. the blood across her top is crusty. how long as she been there? there's no wound... it healed. but she'd been stabbed.. she can't think about it. not yet. not yet. find mara. get a cure. escape. no she couldn't.. mara had said something about them releasing it.. hadn't she? or had she imagined it? claire's clearer now then she was, and yet not fully clear either. it's hard to keep a hold of her thoughts, takes effort. she can do this. she has to do this. there isn't a choice. one step at a time.

there's sound. a scuffle. a grunt. gun shots. something had spilled before.. she remembers it.. kind of, sort of. outbreak. shit. she thinks there'd been one before too. back wherever she'd been but now.. had she caused this one? in her attempt to escape? or had it come with them like it had antarctica from rockfort, along with the personnel? shit. shit. shit. another gun shot. wooden door splinter's below, figures move into the dark room, crash across it like godzilla to a city. someone hits the boxes, they all fall down with her with it. ouch. pain radiates and blood fills her senses. someone's bleeding. she knows it like she knows what air is. in a way that unsettles her. it makes her mind go fuzzy, the veins on her skin burn. there's fighting in the low light, another gun shot. one of them stops moving.

claire reacts.

she lifts herself from the tangle of boxes and launches herself at whoever still stands with a sudden fury and strength she shouldn't have. she feels like it's temporary. it's not going to last and some part of her seems to realize the more she exerts herself the more the infection is going to take root but she has to get away. and to do that she has to stop whoever else is there. so they can't take her away again. so they can't hurt her again. so they can't make her veins feel like they are on fire and her so thirsty. it's all nails and desperate punches when she lands as if she's a wild and wounded animal backed into a corner. hair blocking her face as she attacks. she remembers the feeling of the injections. she remembers the experiments. she's angry, it's taking hold. it's overwhelming her, clouding her mind. she can feel it. but whoever she's fighting is strong. they react too and her arms are suddenly being forced to halt, her struggling wildly until some of her hair that was blocking her vision shifts and she sees eyes. his eyes and now a war is happening within her. something inside wants to fight. wants to hurt. but she. claire. she sees his eyes. she sees them. she knows them. she's crying. it burns her eyes. it's his blood she smells. she wants it. no. no. fucking hell no! she's not lost yet. she won't let herself be. this fucking infection wasn't going to take her. she wouldn't let it. she wouldn't hurt him. why is he there? her mind starts to clear, a little. she stops fighting and fear laces her features.

"l--leon?" this is real. he's real. she can feel him. and yet it almost comes out as a question as if some part of her is suddenly scared she's imagined this whole thing to cope and is still in whatever room they locked her in for their experiments. "i-- i'm sorry! i'm sorry.. i-- couldn't... stop.. i thought you were.. i thought they found me.. i thought they were going to take me back.. oh my god.. did i hurt you?" horror washes over her.

[ramzawrites]

OMG might I say I have cried many tears already.

Also can I request a part 2 to your hybrid iron golem story? Maybe one where he has to deal with torture from the butcher gang, and even has to help exile techno. But eventually he ends up teaming with techno blade and dream after they save him. And he starts training with them and gets better at pvp and eventually kills/greatly injures one of the butcher gang as revenge, before returning to his village? LOVE YOU AND YOUR FICS❤️ your also like the only writer I know who writes he/him or gn fics so thank you❤️

IronGolem!Hybrid!Reader - Protector - Part 2

Part 1

Male

Pairings: none

Characters included: Quackity, Tubbo, Fundy, Ranboo, Technoblade, Ghostbur, (mentioned) Philza

Warnings: mention of burn wounds,captivity,fighting

Series: a part 2 of my previous fic per request <3

Summary: After weeks of working Y/N to the bones the Butcher Army has a different need of him. After managing to get the best gear possible from Y/N and having trained enough, it was finally time to get revenge! It was time to “peacefully” get Technoblade so he can stand trial, of course taking Y/N with them, after all he worked so hard on their gear and was now a part of their little army.

Words count: 3893

Authors Note: Thank you for the nice words! 💙 :D I’m sorry I broke this request up in two parts! I will concentrate on finishing up another or two requests and while I do that, I will also try finishing up part 3 since I am already in the middle of writing it! So don’t worry it is coming!

Y/N pressed his back against the cold stone wall. Enjoying the coolness on his body. Pressing his burned palms against the cold floor beneath him. The coldness was like a soothing balm that engulfed him after working for hours at the forge.

It was probably a bad idea pushing the wounds down onto the dirty floor, but he didn’t care. The temporary relief of pain just felt too good that he couldn’t stop himself.

A small break from the constant stress on his body.

Basking in the break from the constant supervision of the Butcher Army, even if that break came at the cost of him being locked inside a cell.

He had no idea how long he has been here in L’Manberg. An interesting city built inside a crater. They led him to this place, riding on their horses while pulling him along with a rope. It was a grueling two-day trip and as soon as the group arrived, they almost immediately put him to work.

First it just started out with him looking over their current armor and repairing what he could, then they began forcing him to create multiple sets of iron armor, claiming they would give him the resources and he should just work.

So, he did. He created armor sets, weapons and tools. Making new ones when they lost the gear, or it got destroyed. They put his work to the test. Fighting against each other to train. Using it against a horde of mobs, so there was never really a shortage of work.

The real trouble came when they suddenly presented him with diamonds. Ordering him to make them diamond armor but he didn’t know how. His expertise laid with iron work nothing else, but the group wouldn’t hear a no from him. Forcing him to figure out how to best create this diamond armor by showing him their old ones.

Luckily his knowledge seemed to somewhat extend to the new material as well. It took a while, but he soon found out different ways to create a similar product to that of his iron gear.

Diamond armor light but strong, the tools incredibly sturdy and in some cases sharp.

This seemed to be what the group was looking for. Yelling things like “This could rival netherite!” as they tried it out for the first time.

One day they brought him a new material. It was netherite. It was good thing that netherite behaved more like iron and was used as a coating for diamond gear, so Y/N could make this upgraded gear for them fast and easily.

The netherite complimented his work quite well. It received greater durability but also made it possible to sharpen the weapons even more so. Something about this material seemed to behave otherworldly to him which got confirmed to him once he found out that it came from the nether.

Naively Y/N had hoped that this was enough and that they would finally let him go and return to his village. His one true home. Though of course they didn’t let him go, saying that they still haven’t reached their goal and needed his help.

Still working him to the bone. His hands getting more and more hurt over time as he worked with the materials. The metal that coated them cracking more and more.

The villagers back home were left with the only few defenses he put up, which should be fine but also, he wanted to be there and make sure they were alright.

As he sat alone in the dark room, he let himself silently cry. He missed them so much. They would make sure he was alright, giving him an abundance of food and materials and whenever he refused to take more, they would look so insulted. If anything, the villagers were good-natured beings that believed in true reciprocity.

This seemed to be a foreign concept for the L’Manberg people or at least the Butcher Army. Increasing his fear and wariness for other humans even more. He never actually had any contact with other people outside of them, but he did learn a few things about the little group and what their opinion was of others.

For starters there were two people they saw as their ultimate enemies.

One called Dream and another called Technoblade.

From the things he heard and even the few question he managed to ask despite of his fear and anxiety, he gained the idea that these two must have been horrible tyrants. He almost got the idea that they were just beasts out here hunting their prey and trying to subject the other people under their own rule or ideologies.

And Y/N was scared of them. He didn’t want to meet them and make sure to stay far away but this was also how he felt towards the Butcher Army, conflicting thoughts and emotions brewing inside of him. The Butcher Army acted like they were the good guys, doing bad things for a good goal and Y/N wanted to believe in that. Wanted to believe that him suffering will bring something good as well but there were doubts.

Y/N laid his hurting hands on his biceps, squeezing them in pain as he tried to stifle his sobs. No matter what, he will make sure to not cry in front of them. It was stupid and unnecessary, but he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. Though then again, the only person who seemed to enjoy the feeling of power was Quackity. Fundy was a close second, but he looked mostly just forward to the new goods and the power he seemed to gain through them.

Tubbo and Ranboo were more passive. Especially Ranboo.

Quackity seemed to string Tubbo along most of the time, speaking to his pride as president of the nation and basically just whispering him what he should do, and the young president listened.

Ranboo tried to sometimes help Y/N. Giving him things like bandages for his wounds or giving him extra food and water, even trying to do small talk with him to lighten the mood. If the situation were different Y/N would have laughed at his awkward attempts for conversation.

While he appreciated it, it just hammered back in the feeling of homesickness.

He bit his lower lip as his thoughts began running a mile an hour again. Ranging from despair to him cursing out his captors. He was too kind to actually think things like “I hate them. I hate them so much.” Trying to believe there was a good reason for this, but he was getting tired. His work is getting more and more sloppy, and it was only a matter of time until Quackity and the others noticed.

There was no telling with how long he could take this anymore.

Y/N got back up only to fall into bed. There was nothing better to do here than sleep through the days and wait for the others to get him out.

As it turned out the others needed him early in the morning but this time it was different.

Quackity opened up the iron door to his cell with a sterner expression than usual. It surprised Y/N when he saw that Quackity had put the white apron on top of his new netherite armor. This was not a good sign. The last time he saw that armor on him was when Quackity escorted him to L’Manberg.

“Get up. We have something to do.” His voice was cold and strained. A hint of anxiety mixed in, or maybe it was anticipation after all.

Not even daring to hesitate, Y/N jumped off his bed. Wordlessly following his captor, soon noticing that this would not be a usual day for him.

Instead of turning to the smithy they set up for him, Quackity led him to the town middle where he saw the rest of the Butcher Army waiting. Decked out in Y/N’s best armor and horses in tow. Expressions pulled down into deep frowns.

But what confused him the most was that he counted five horses when there were only four members of the army. A bad feeling begun building up at the bottom of his stomach. Like a rock sinking down into the depths of water.

“What is going on?” Y/N managed to rasp out as the two reached the others.

Quackity collected the reigns of all the horses and pushed it into Y/N’s rough hands “It is time we finally get some retribution. We are going after Technoblade and we need your help for that. Your own armor is over there. Get ready while we have a little talk with Philza.”

He didn’t wait for an answer and instead moved towards Philza’s home, only to turn around one more time before they rung the bell in front of the house “And I swear by Ender if you run away, we will find you. We know the only probable place you would seek refuge in and even if you don’t, we will wreck that place.”

Then they sounded the bell. A familiar ringing that made Y/N’s heart ache even more.

There was no real choice, he just looked around and found his old iron armor laying on the ground. The scratches and damages from back when the Butcher Army found him still there. He never got the chance to repair it.

Y/N never really talked with Philza. He only saw him here and there. Usually whenever Philza passed him he would just stare. Just stare him down. Something going through his mind, but Y/N couldn’t possibly tell what. His expression always grim only to jump back into a relaxed smile. Y/N always thought his smile felt a bit off. Wrong even. Not the truth or hiding something.

When the door swung open again it gave away to a smug looking Quackity who happily swung around a compass by its chain around his finger. A proud looking Tubbo behind him, followed by Fundy who looked almost like he was sulking and Ranboo who had a complicated expression on his face. He didn’t feel comfortable.

“We’ve got what we need. Now, to Technoblade. Everyone on their horses! This includes you, Y/N.” Quackity exclaimed.

The bad feeling increased, creating a lump in his throat. Shakily he opened up his hand and let everyone get on their horses, leaving him with a beautiful black one.

Nervous he put his foot in the pedal of the saddle and heaved himself up on it.

He wanted to scream. Run away. What would they need him for? His armor was way inferior to that of the others, ignoring the fact that he couldn’t fight at all.

No, they didn’t need him to fight but be a shield for them. A moving shield. After all he was an Iron Golem Hybrid. Big areas of his skin covered in thin metal plates, not all connected so he could still move but it gave him more protection. That plus his height was what they counted on, wasn’t it? That he would still be imposing enough to draw attention.

This was the conclusion he came to due to Quackity. He heard him talking. All Y/N was to him was a tool, a resource to be used and the worst part was that Y/N just couldn’t defend himself against this. Too scared anything might happen to his home because Quackity was right, they knew exactly where his home was and how important this place was to him.

Y/N didn’t realize how suddenly Quackity slowed down his horse as they arrived in the snow biome only pulling him out of his anxiety filled thoughts as he began speaking to him directly.

“Here is the plan. We want to get Technoblade and-” He stopped himself as he searched for the right words “And hold him accountable. Yes, we will put him on trial. If we are lucky, he will just follow us, but we doubt it. If he refuses, he will likely fight us. We just need you to draw your attention on yourself but don’t worry, we will jump right in to take care of him.”

“I- I don’t, Quackity, I don’t- I can’t fight!” Y/N croaked out. It felt like ages since he last spoke.

But Quackity just smiled “Don’t worry.”

That was all he said before hurrying along to be back at the front of the pack. Holding the glowing compass close to himself.

Y/N knew. He knew this was the case and yet it felt like someone stuffed snow down his shirt. A cold shiver running down his spine. Panic rising even more. It was a good thing he was sitting on top of a horse, otherwise he wasn’t sure if his shaking legs could carry him for the rest of the way. Each step closer to what felt like his doom.

His doom? Would Technoblade kill him? The way the small Army described him, he wouldn’t hesitate to cut him down.

Was it bad he didn’t fear dying but just the potential pain?

Realizing where his thoughts were running off to, he shook himself. No, his home, his real home, needed him. He couldn’t die yet. He needed to find a way to survive.

Suddenly Fundy stopped his horse and moved his fist up in the air, signaling for the others to stop as well. While the others wondered why he did this, Fundy pointed ahead through the trees towards a figure? A person? Out here in the snowy tundra?

Without saying anything Quackity jumped off his horse, the others following suit and begun tying the animals to the trees. Once Y/N understood what was happening he did the same. His eyes darting back towards the figure that seemed to interact and cuddle with a blue sheep while he made sure his horse was secured to one of the trees.

“What’s Ghostbur doing here?” Ranboo whispered more to himself but Y/N caught it.

He heard of Ghostbur but actually never met him. Apparently, the ghost of the man that blew the nation up but that was really all he knew.

They approached the ghost on foot, calling out to him in the process to gain his attention. The ghost immediately waved towards them with an earnest and big smile on his face. Y/N was fretting for his life at the moment but something about Ghostbur almost calmed him down.

Maybe it was just the fact of meeting a new friendly face after being surrounded by the Butcher Army for so long.

Ghostbur approached them, the sheep following him via a leash “Hello Quackity! Hello Fundy! Hello Tubbo! Hello Ranboo! Oh! I don’t know your name! I’m sorry! Hello though! I’m Ghostbur!”

Y/N was a bit taken aback. He was so friendly.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.” he surprised himself a little bit with how he just blurted it out.

Ghostbur cocked his head to the side as he listened “Nice to meet you Y/N! You don’t look too good! Are you doing alright? Oh no, was this rude? Do you want some blue? Maybe that will help!”

Before Y/N could even properly process what he could possibly mean with blue Quackity jumped in “Hey, Ghostbur. You know if Technoblade is close? Is he somewhere around here?”

Somehow Ghostbur managed to lighten up even more, which should be impossible but Ghostbur’s eyes widened into a fond recognition and he turned around “Yes! Yes! I got lost but I found Techno! He told me to go though! He is over there! Come with me, I’ll show you!”

The Ghost then begun floating off, leading the group between trees and soon arriving on a small hill that gave them a good view of a cottage house.

Seeing the homey build, it was difficult for Y/N to imagine that a monster lived there. If anything, it reminded him of his own home. Maybe he won’t fight? Maybe this will end peacefully? But somehow Y/N doubted it by the serious but eager expressions on half of the Butcher Army’s faces as their eyes fell on Techno’s home.

“Let’s go.” Quackity trotted down the hill “We all know what to do.”

Y/N’s heartbeat took on speed again. Everyone got their weapons out and even though Y/N was technically really strong due to his constant smithing work, the iron sword in his hand felt heavy. Like it could slip out of his hand any second.

Worried his eyes darted across the few windows of the house. Trying to get a glimpse of Technoblade but all he saw was a shadow moving away from one of the windows.

Did he see them approaching?

“Techno get out!” Quackity suddenly yelled, pulling Y/N back out of his anxiety filled thoughts once again.

It took a second but suddenly the wooden door opened up slowly and Technoblade got out. He wore netherite armor, a red gown with white fluff on his shoulders on top of the armor, a crown on top of his head, his pink hair pulled back.

With his scowling expression and stature, he looked scary.

Technoblade took a step outside on his porch, Y/N suddenly became very aware of how sharp his tusks looked.

“What do you want?”

With a deep breath Quackity took a closer step towards the Pig Hybrid “We are here to get you! We, the Butcher Army, are here to put you on trial!”

“Yes! It is time you take responsibility for the destruction of L’Manberg!” Fundy added on. Tubbo just nodded to show his support to this statement.

“And why should I follow you? I’ve retired, I don’t want to be a part of any of this anymore. I’m done.” Techno spoke.

Quackity turned around to look at Y/N for a second only to continue speaking with Techno “Well, either you follow us peacefully or we will force you. You can’t run away from what you have done! Come with us and stand trial!”

But he didn’t answer immediately, Techno moved down the porch. Almost circling the group, his eyes jumping around between them.

“Listen, guys. The voices in my head. They begged me for more blood. They demanded more but I refused. I purposefully got out here to deny them, just leave me be.”

“Techno, you spawned Withers in L’Manberg! People got hurt! They destroyed a huge part of our nation! You have to stand trial!” Tubbo readjusted his grip on his axe. He looked angry and almost bewildered.

Technoblade slowly shook his head “No, you don’t understand. I’m trying to keep away from all this for a reason! You are just pulling me back to things and-“

“No! You either come with us or we will make you! Five to one Techno, you think you can do that?” Quackity interrupted him, pointing his weapon at Techno.

Y/N was overwhelmed with the situation. The man in front of him, Technoblade, wasn’t how he imagined him. He tried to reason but the others wouldn’t want to hear it which Y/N could understand as well but this man didn’t look like the blood thirsty monster the others described him as.

The Pig Hybrid sighed, his eyes now instead of jumping around finally decided to rest on Y/N, who in return suddenly felt small under his gaze. Did Techno realize that Y/N was the attack bait? Is he falling for it? Or did he notice his trembling arms and legs. The fear and worry in his eyes. The burn wounds covering his hands and arms. The clearly damaged iron armor.

Was he seeing Y/N as prey or as the scared man that feared for his life he really was?

“What will it be, Techno?” Fundy snarled, showing of his sharp teeth.

His hands moved towards his side “If it has to be like that, then I choose blood!”

Then everything went really fast. His hands pulled out a few flask from his belt, hidden by his gown that he threw on the ground to buff himself.

The Butcher Army immediately grew panicked and barked orders, a clear and loud order from Quackity flew through the chaos and reached Y/N “Attack him, Y/N!”

And he didn’t know why but he moved in. He was scared, his heart felt close to exploding in his chest, but he was somehow more scared of Quackity and what could happen shouldn’t he listen. Scared that he would force him to work even more, refusing him sleep and food again. Not letting him treat his wounds properly that he got from the work.

So, he moved in. With shaking legs and what felt like without strength in his arms. The world turned blurry. Was he crying or just his nerves? He couldn’t tell.

All he remembered was Techno coming close to him, looking like a demon. His eyes wide and filled with what Y/N assumed to be bloodlust.

Y/N moved his arm up, just trying to hit Techno with his own sword, but Techno was faster. He slammed the blunt end of his netherite sword into Y/N’s neck. Shocked by the sudden attack, he fell to the ground. The world growing dark for a few seconds as he coughed and tried to breathe again.

As he sat in the cold snow, trying to calm down he heard the Army yelling. Metal clanging on metal.

Then it suddenly stopped.

A neighing. A horse? What?

Luckily Y/N seemed to have regained somewhat control over his own body and could assess the situation in front of him.

The Butcher Army seemed to be alright. Y/N’s armor really held through, no obvious damage on it. They were out of breath and sweating but alright.

A bit ashamed Y/N couldn’t help but be proud of his work that it withstood a buffed-up Techno with a netherite sword.

But what really caught his attention was Quackity who held the reigns of a horse with diamond armor. His axe held up close to the animal’s throat.

Technoblade moved the tip of his blade towards him “Get away from that horse, Quackity!”

“Follow us peacefully and nothing will happen to the horse, Techno. Your choice.”

There was a slight hesitation as Techno undoubtedly tried to gauge if he could somehow deal with Quackity differently but ultimately, he suddenly dropped his weapon as well his armor.

Perplexed Y/N got back up, still rubbing his neck.

Techno spared him. He obviously just tried to either knock him out or make him unable to fight, which he succeeded in. Wouldn’t it have been for Y/N’s reinforced skin due to his Iron Golem side he would have been knocked out for sure.

Fundy did not hesitate to jump in and wrap chains around Techno’s wrists “Y/N! You are the strongest one of us. You hold on to him, we will be close by to ensure he won’t run off.”

Avoiding looking at the others directly after having been taken out of the fight so easily, he made his way towards Fundy and grabbed the chains. Wrapping it a few times around his own arm as well. Feeling sick to his stomach as he realized that he was doing the same thing to Techno like back when the group escorted him out of his own village.

He couldn’t help himself but whisper towards Techno a quick “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”