#house and chase's whole thing makes me SO feral | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tallulah477 · 3 months

Text

Feral

Survive The Night Day 2: Predator/Prey

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Dark!Neteyam, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Oral (female receiving), P in V, Sex Pollen, Size Difference, Chasing, Primal Play (Predator/Prey Kink), Creampie, Hair Pulling, Knife Play, Restraining Holds (i.e pinning/holding reader down), Fear Kink (?), Alien Genitalia (not really the focus, but its there), Knotting, Belly Bulge

Word Count: 7.3K

A/N: Based off a dream I had where Neteyam chased me through my house and I was running for my fucking life. Why didn't I let him catch me, you ask? Cause dream Talie is stupid.

Summary: You never understood why the Na'vi don't use this particular plant in their healing practices. It's a miracle plant for the humans - cutting healing times nearly in half when used as a topical paste. You would think it would have some similar benefits to the Na'vi. You would be wrong.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Tawtute - Human

Kehe rikx - Don't move

Rutxe ftang - Please stop

Kehe - No

Even considering he’s a nine foot tall blue alien, Neteyam Sully still looks extremely out of place standing on the clean, white tiled floor of the lab.

His siblings don’t look so out of place when they visit - comfortable and familiar enough within the confines of the lab to make themselves at home among the multitude of beakers, whirling machines, and thick observation glass that make up your day-to-day workplace. Their large bodies twisting and contorting with ease when necessary to accommodate for the smaller space.

Neteyam isn’t so lucky. He doesn’t like the human facilities, opting to follow in his mother’s footsteps and stay as far away from the skypeople as he can. He’s only here because he was ordered to be, sent by his father to fix his broken throat comm before they head out with the hunting party on a three day hunting trip.

He looks uncomfortable as he stands behind you, back stiff and arms crossed across his broad chest as he watches you tinker with the comm. Repairing tech has never been your strong suit, so it’s taking you a bit longer to figure out than it probably should have, but since you're currently the only person left in this half of the base, the responsibility has unintentionally fallen to you.

You should be out there too. The thought forms bitterly in your head as you poke at the small opened compartment of the comm with your tweezers. Your favorite part of research is going out into the world and finding the specimens. The lab is great, a fine place for breaking ground and learning new things, gathering knowledge and data about a flora and fauna in a way that no other humans had ever had the opportunity to do before. Pandora is your home, where you grew up and lived your whole life - and yet, it’s still a mystery, and you learn something new and beautiful about it everyday.

But the real fun is outside the lab. It’s when you're out there, in the thick of it, stepping over breaching roots and feeling the moss of the ground between your toes when you take off your shoes during a rest break. It’s feeling the gentle breeze of air along your skin and hearing the trees rustle in the canopy above you as a result, and pretending that - just for a minute - you can feel the breeze of alien air brush against your face instead of your mask.

Usually one of the older scientists, Alice, offers to stay behind at the lab to run tests and be on call for the Omatikaya should human tech ever be needed. But she’s the most knowledgeable when it comes to locating the elusive and seasonally grown plant that’s come to be known as the Rust Plant.

So, that leaves you here, on your ass and pouting while everyone else gets to go off and have their fun.

As far as you know, the plant doesn’t have any special properties or spiritual significance to the Na’vi. But when the red dust-like powder is collected from the center and manipulated into a liquid, the result is a miracle paste that significantly reduces healing time with human injuries. You asked about it once - why the Na’vi don’t try to make the paste for themselves to see if it will work on them - but the only answer you got back was that it had some ‘unintended consequences’ when used by the clan, so they stay away from the plant altogether.

You don’t think about that when Neteyam walks in.

The plant mixture, once rust red, is now a beautiful glowing purple inside the beaker - a reaction from the solution added to the powder to form the liquid base. It’s been on the hot plate for a while now, but it’s only just starting to heat up enough to provide small spirals of smoke inside the clear glass.

You’re glancing at the clock when you hear Neteyam sniff slightly behind you. You don’t turn around, ignoring the little puffs of air that somehow sound like bullet shots in the silence, but a part of you is instantly insecure. What is he smelling? It can't be the mixture in the beaker. Despite the smoke, it doesn’t give off any kind of smell. Subtly, you press your chin to your chest, trying to see if you can smell yourself to find out if maybe it’s you giving off some kind of stench that his overly sensitive nose is picking up on, but you don’t smell anything off about you either.

The purple liquid is still thin inside the container, needing several more minutes of constant heat in order to bubble and thicken slightly before it can be considered a usable product, but you pause your tinkering on the comm to note the time for the smoke in a small notebook.

Neteyam lets out a loud sigh when you drop the tweezers to grab a pencil, the annoyed huff nearly ear piercing in the quiet of the lab. This time you can’t help but glance towards the harsh noise, a slight tilt of your head towards the large Na’vi and your eyes meet amber for just a second before they drop again to the paper as you scribble.

A part of you wants to be snobby, ask a prissy ‘can I help you?’ just because you feel like he’s being so unnecessarily rude when you're just trying to help, but you keep your mouth shut.

He doesn’t.

“Are you nearly done?” He grunts, accented tone pitched with agitation as his feet shuffle on the tile.

“Yes, just a few more minutes,” You say, picking the tweezers back up. “Be patient.”

You think you’ve almost got the comm fixed, just a minor replacement to the tiny inside panel, and you're thankful that’s all it is. It shouldn’t take too long. You’ve nearly got the replacement piece in place now, so all you should have to do is solder it in and it should be fine. Which is good because the sooner you can get this fixed, the sooner you can get the huffy, oversized, unfortunately very handsome despite being an incredible dick of a Na’vi out of the lab so you don’t have to feel him breathing down your neck anymore.

It only takes another couple minutes for the smoke to consume the rest of the empty space in the beaker, thick white wisps swirling inside of the glass and spiraling out of the top. You drop the tweezers again, cutting the power off to the hot plate and grab the pencil again to log the time.

Neteyam sniffs again, this time audibly louder and longer, before it sounds like his breath gets caught in his lungs.

Immediately, your head spins around to stare at him wide eyed, surprise and concern flooding your chest when you notice he’s backed up a few steps. He’s staring at the bubbling beaker, yellow eyes set with suspicion and what almost looks like distress.

“Are you o–”

“What is that?” He interrupts, voice gruff as his three fingered hand points to the beaker.

“It’s… the mixture for our healing paste,” You reply, confused.

“No! What is it?”

“The Rust Plant? The one that grows on the sides of river b–”

You’re cut off again by a sharp hiss, and you have just a second to register Neteyam’s dagger-like teeth as he stalks forward, spitting out a frustrated “You stupid–” before he’s jerking back, hand immediately covering his nose as if to stop himself from breathing.

He looks wild, eyes frantic as he stares at the beaker, and every muscle in his body looks tense, stung up tight like a bow ready to shoot. You’re a scientist, you’re meant to be observant, so you don’t know why you didn’t see it before. But it’s clear as anything now. The smoke doesn’t have any kind of smell to you, but to him - with the way he’s backing away and covering his nose to keep from breathing it in - it must be horrible.

His tail is trashing behind him, so upset that you think you can almost hear a swish from it cutting through the air like a whip.

“I need to leave,” He says suddenly. Instinctively, you back up into the desk at the sight of the large and angry Na’vi coming at you again, but he just grabs the still broken comm and turns around to storm out.

He’s big though, too much for the small space of the lab, and his frantic tail is still thrashing as he turns. The thin appendage accidentally snaps against the side of the still smoking beaker, sending it flying off the desk and onto the ground.

The glass shatters against the tile, glowing purple spreading across the white floor in a large puddle as the smoke spirals up into the air. Neteyam’s hand instinctively drops from his nose to grip onto his tail, holding the end of it close to him as if to keep it from swinging and smacking into anything else. But you watch, shocked and frozen in your spot as he takes one shuddering breath, and then another, tense back muscles shifting under his cobalt skin with each inhale and exhale of air.

“Neteyam?” You ask, timidly. Dread shoots through your chest and you have the feeling that something very serious just happened, but you don’t even know what.

He’s just standing there now, back towards you, but he’s not moving towards the door anymore. It’s like something is keeping him from moving, some unseen force that exploded out of the glass container when it burst and wrapped its tendrils around him before he could take another step.

Whatever he was smelling from the beaker wasn’t good for him, and now it's in the air, invisible signatures swirling through the small space of the lab, and it's affecting him - the ‘unintended consequences’ of the Rust Plant on the Na’vi.

Your every instinct is telling you to stay away from him, that he’s dangerous. But he’s one of the Omatikaya, and regardless of how he views humans, you know he would never hurt you and disobey his father like that.

“Hey,” You say, gently. You force yourself away from the desk, slowly moving around him to try to not startle him as you attempt to make your way to the airlock door. “Just relax, okay? Let’s try to air this pl–”

His deep growl has you frozen again, cold ice shoots through your veins at the predatory sound. It’s not a normal growl - not a low, quick sound made in anger or frustration. It sounds dark, a deep dangerous rumbling that came from his chest. A warning.

You watch in horror as he slowly tilts his head towards you, the pointed tips of his sharp teeth visible under the snarled curl of his lips, glittering in the bright fluorescent lights of the lab. Your brain screams at you to run - danger, danger, danger, it shouts, but you can’t move. The realization hits hard: he’s not Neteyam anymore. The Na’vi in front of you is not the same human-indifferent, scoffing, fearless warrior son of Toruk Makto.

He’s an animal. A predator.

Feral.

His golden eyes are now just a thin band of dark honey encircling two endless black holes. And in their reflection you see yourself - tiny and weak. Scared.

Prey.

His body shifts slightly, just the most minuscule movements as he angles himself towards you that you probably wouldn’t have noticed had your survival instincts not been ringing alarm bells in your brain. Without thinking, you grab the hot plate, gripping it tightly at its base and holding it in front of you as your only form of weapon.

“Neteyam Sully!” You shout, and you can’t even believe how out of your mind you are to try to use his full name like an upset mother. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you stop it right now!”

There’s not even a second after the words leave your mouth, not a beat or breath or anything before he’s coming at you.

Your body registers his sudden movement before your brain does, the roaring snarl bouncing off the walls of the lab as he lunges at you. The hot plate is out of your hands in an instant, the hard base of the plate smacking into his face with a loud cuh-thunk. His snarl is interrupted with a grunt from the hit, body jerking back a step from the impact, and you don’t wait around to see the way his eyes zero in on your retreating form again in rage.

You can’t think - your body is moving without your brain telling it what to do. Pure panic mixed with raw survival instincts is what drives you through the door behind you, nearly smacking into the wall as you barrel down the main hallway. You hear Neteyam’s footsteps close behind, bare feet smacking against the tile.

It’s a sound you never thought you would find terrifying. You think of little Mae, the daughter of the staff nurse and one of the science guys, and how the sound of her tiny footsteps stomping on these same tiles floors always brought a smile to your face. You could always hear her coming before you saw her, just a few seconds before she rounded the corner with unsteady steps ready to cause havoc as she tries to run from her exhausted and overstimulated mother.

These ones are louder though. Heavier, but somehow more quiet as they rush at you from across the unobstructed hall. Your body doesn’t wait for your mind to catch up, and that’s probably a good thing considering you have no idea how the fuck you knew to take the split second turn to your right the exact moment Neteyam tried to pounce.

You hear his snarl of anger as he rights himself, loud and echoing through the hallway. You’ve managed to best him for a second, but he’s still on your ass - gaining ground on you with his long Na’vi legs despite the cramped human-sized halls.

Your heart is racing in your chest, pounding with fear, and the adrenaline coursing through your veins is the only thing keeping you going. You can’t breathe - shallow, panicked, quick puffs of air rip from you as you run, your high pitched gasps sounding against the hall walls as a foil to Neteyam’s predatory growls.

“HELP!” You scream, voice cracking with how loud you're trying to scream. The desperation and pure terror are evident in your voice and you know if someone were around they would hear you for sure. Someone has to be around. They have to be. “SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE!”

No one responds. No one steps in to intervene. No one even opens their door to try to take a little bit of a peek. No one to run to for help even though it feels like you're about to get mauled to death by a Thanator.

You’re truly alone. And that thought makes you somehow even more desperate.

Most people have a tendency to close the doors of their bedrooms, trying to keep as much privacy as they can in the small base. Norm has no such desires, often too excited or too focused on getting to his studies that he outright forgets to close his door.

It’s a god send now that you’re sprinting through the residency part of the outpost. Your room is one of the last down the hall. You won’t make it. Not with the way you’re shaking right now, body feeling like it's somehow both freezing over with ice and lighting on fire as the fear and adrenaline fight for dominance for your immediate attention. Neteyam’s right behind you, long stride more than twice the size of yours cutting any distance you gained through your miracle of a move back down to barely anything at all.

He’s going to catch you.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK.

Throwing yourself at a random door is dangerous. Just the extra second it takes to turn the knob and push the door open could almost certainly be the difference between life and death if you even still have a chance at life at all. And even then you run the risk of it being locked. Your eye catches on Norm’s door - open and shining like a beacon of hope amongst the fluorescently lit hallway.

You don’t have another choice.

You turn.

As soon as you make it through the threshold, you slam the door behind you as fast as you can.

You don’t know what you expected, naively hoping that the door would somehow succeed in protecting you and keeping Neteyam out. It’s not even locked.

You scream as the door explodes under Neteyam’s weight, the wood splintering as it bursts apart, smaller bits of fragmented wood spraying towards you as the feral Na’vi shoulders his way in. The bathroom to your left is the only option, and you lunge for it just as Neteyam lunges for you. The tears pouring down your cheeks burn your eyes and blur your vision, your loud hyperventilating cries make your throat raw. Another door just barely slammed in his face and your back presses against the opposite door, your panicked hand trying to jiggle the knob but your brain not reminding you how to twist it. This other door hasn’t been used in years - the bathroom that once connected these two rooms together is just used by Norm now since Mary had her baby and her and her husband moved into a larger room to accommodate the crib. It’s locked, and your fingers are struggling to twist the mechanism up to unlock it when Neteyam breaks through.

Even through your blurred vision, you see it clearly. His arm reaches through the hole his shoulder has made, and the bathroom is too small, too fucking small because that arm looks like its reaching across the entire length of it, fingers splayed out like if he can just get one of the tips to brush you, he’ll snatch you up.

“HELP!” You scream again. Fuck fuck fuck. You’re going to fucking die. “HELP ME!”

You watch the door in horror as Neteyam pulls his arm back, head dropping to glare at you through the opening, and your veins fill with ice.

He looks murderous - pupils blown so wide you can’t see the golden ring wrapped around them at all. You want to drop to the ground under that stare, beg for mercy even though the look in his eyes makes it clear there won’t be any.

“N-Neteyam,” You stutter. Your heart is pounding so fast, blood sounding like it’s rushing in your ears so fast you don’t know how you haven’t had a heart attack yet. “P-please s-stop. P-please.”

His eyes stay locked on yours through the hole in the door, dark and glaring but for some reason he’s paused his attacks. A part of you wonders if your begging is making it through to the non-animalistic part of his brain. Whatever the smoke from the mixture of the Rust Plant did to him, it has to be only temporary. He’s still Neteyam. Neteyam is still in there somewhere.

“Please,” You try again, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re scaring me.”

He leans forward, one hand curling around the broken wood from the open hole in the door. When he speaks, you don’t know if you’re relieved to hear that he can despite the overwhelming feral actions, or if you’re horrified at how his voice comes out.

He doesn’t sound like himself at all. His words are clipped, short words made sentences that you don’t understand as both the gravely and growled way he says them as well as overall meaning.

“Tawtute,” He growls. “Mine.”

“Wha— I-I don’t understand,”

You scream when he hisses at you, long canines and sharp teeth on display through the damaged opening and you have a front row seat to the show as your back presses harder against the door behind you. The hand wrapped around the edge of the hole pulls back suddenly, taking with it a huge chunk of the center and the loud crack and snap of wood snaps your body back into gear. You twist the small lock on the door behind you, unlocking it and wrenching it open when Neteyam throws his body against the opposite door again. You’re out the door and into the next room, slamming the door shut behind you just as you hear the telltale crash of the wild Na’vi breaking through the other barrier. Without thinking, you round the side of the bookshelf that stands on the side of the doorframe. You push with all your might, tipping the bookshelf on its side so that it falls diagonally across the door. A dresser sits just on the opposite side of the door, the bookshelf catching on the edge of the dresser so that it blocks a good portion of the bathroom door.

Any other time you’d be heartbroken to see the books that fall off the bookshelf in your mishandling scatter along the floor and at your feet like they were nothing more than trash. Today, though, you can’t give a shit about that.

Your hands grip your hair in frustration as you hear Neteyam’s body barrel into the door, hot tears racing down your face as you waste valuable seconds staring at the bending wood behind the tipped bookcase. It won’t keep him back for long. He could probably easily push it out of his way, but it's something. Your only hope now is that it keeps him long enough for you to get away and that his instinct driven brain doesn’t realize he can just go back the way he came to get around the obstacle.

Turning on your heel, you sprint out the bedroom door, heading back down the hallway towards the lab. The sound of the loud crash echoing through the empty hall makes you run impossibly faster. Was it the door finally giving way under his weight? Or was it the bookshelf being tossed to the side like it was nothing and he’s about to barrel down the hallway to finish the job that you’ve somehow managed to postpone until now?

You make it back to the lab, foot smacking against the forgotten hotplate still laying on the ground in your haste to get to the airlock. Your hand smacks against the button on the side wall, fingers practically choking the heavy handle as you go to yank it open. The oxygen masks lay forgotten on the shelf next to the door. You don’t care about them, don’t care about breathing right now because what’s good about breathing when Neteyam could end your need for it in just seconds if he catches you.

The airlock door hisses as the seal breaks and for a split second you think you’ve done it - have somehow managed to survive this deadly game of cat and mouse you’ve inadvertently been forced to play. You can grab a mask and slip inside the airlock. Keep Neteyam locked up here in the lab while you sit safely outside until the others get back or he comes to his senses enough to remember how to open the airlock door himself.

But no sooner than the thought crosses your mind, an arm wraps tightly around your waist and pulls you from your death grip on the thick metal door.

You scream as you’re tossed to the floor, body pressed against the cold tile as Neteyam straddles you. His hips pin your legs down, leaving them useless and unable to buck or kick under his massive weight. You beat at his chest with your fists as hard as you can, trying to ignore how they hurt from your balled up fists trying to hit against pure solid muscle.

Panic manifests in your desperate cries and you aim for his face too, trying to hit or slap or scratch - anything to get him off of you. You feel like an injured animal caught in a trap. And you suppose you are.

“Get off!” You cry. “Get off me, Neteyam!”

He snarls as one of your hits lands too close next to his eye and he grabs your hands tightly in one of his, pinning them above your head.

Your screams stop, catching in your throat when the bright fluorescent lights of the lab catch on the knife on his hip. The light caresses the blade as he pulls it from its sheath, the sharp tip sparkling as he brings it to press against the base of your throat.

His face is in front of yours in an instant, so close you feel like you can barely breathe in the wake of the knife resting at your throat and the way his huge eyes feel like twin black holes threatening to suck you into their depths if you move even a single centimeter.

“Kehe rikx,” His words are hardly more than a whispered breath against your face, but their translation rings loudly in your ears.

Don’t move.

The point of the knife drags against your neck, scratching lightly as he draws it down your collarbone. It pulls at the fabric at the neck of your t-shirt as he moves it down your chest, stretching and bunching it down as he scrapes the tip through the valley of your breasts. Your heart pounds under the deadly tip of the weapon and your body wants to fight, keep fighting for your life that you know could be taken from you with just a quick movement of his hand, but your fear keeps you frozen.

Something hard presses against your trapped thighs and your eyes automatically rip themselves from the knife down to the space between your bodies, and your breathing catches in your throat again for a whole other reason.

Neteyam’s cock is hard in his loincloth, having escaped its sheath and filling out under the thin material enough to raise a sizable tent inside it.

He doesn’t give you time to react as his head bends down and latches onto the swell of your breast through your shirt, sharp teeth digging into it just enough for marks to surely be left even through the layers of shirt and bra. You yelp, back arching instinctively against the pain, and your body unfreezes as his teeth scrape against your breast before digging into the material of your shirt and ripping.

The loud sound of tearing fabric rips through the room and Neteyam releases the torn fabric from his mouth just to grip it with his hands instead, pulling up and out and exposing your bra clad torso to his darkened crazed eyes. The knife is still in his hand, but the blade is pointed sideways now as he uses the fingers around it to rip your shirt apart. It’s not smart, not a smart idea at all to try your hand at smacking at him again, but you have to do something.

You don’t know what he wants anymore. What did that mixture do to him? He was chasing you through these halls, growling and snarling like a predator on the hunt for its next meal, and now he’s on top of you - hard and tearing your clothes off like he wants to fuck you.

You only get a couple smacks in before the knife is back at your chest and you’re forced still again. Neteyam’s eyes are locked onto your chest, following the tip of the knife as he slides it under the band of your bra directly between your breasts. It cuts easily under the pressure of the sharp knife and the covering falls on either side of your chest, leaving you bare to his hungry gaze.

There’s a mark on your breast from where his teeth had dug into it and he pauses to stare at it greedily.

“N-Netayam,” You say, slowly. He seems a little calmer now that he has you trapped under him. You need to talk him to his senses. He’s still in there somewhere. He has to be. He’s not all animal. He can be reasoned with. “You don’t wanna do this. Plea–”

Your plea is cut off as he rises off of you, crouching back just enough to give himself room to flip you roughly over on your stomach. You grunt as your bare chest hits the cold tile, arms splayed uselessly on either side of you as you try to get your bearings from the quick movement before he’s using his knife to cut through the denim of your shorts.

“Neteyam! Rutxe ftang! Kehe!”

You don’t know why you think pleading in Na’vi will be any different than English, but desperation punches the frantic words out of you before you can even think about deciding to say them. Your hands finally find purchase on the ground beneath you and you try to push yourself up in hopes of crawling away, but Neteyam’s dropping the knife and taking hold of your hips before you can.

High pitched squeaking sounds hit your ears as he drags your body across the tile. Your hands scramble frantically against the floor as you’re pulled backwards, but there’s nothing to hold onto. They just slide uselessly, voicing their protest in the way the tile screams under your grasping fingertips as you’re hoisted up with your lower half in the air.

Your back arches against Neteyam’s hold, legs kicking in the air but doing no harm despite their efforts. The hole he’s created in your shorts is enough to have your pussy on display for him, and you can feel his breath on it - hot puffs are the only warning you get before his mouth is on you. Your voice is raw from all the screaming you’ve done, the sound crackling and almost pained as you shout again - shout for him to stop and to let you go as you kick and squirm and beg.

You want to cry more, any drying tears of fear you have still tracked on your cheeks are replaced with tears of humiliation. Your clit pulses under his relentless tongue, pussy subconsciously clenching around nothing as he licks and sucks over the puffy folds.

You’re wet.

You’re so wet already, body confusing the adrenaline caused by fear and desperation and flooding it with the adrenaline that comes with arousal instead. His textured tongue slips across your sticky cunt, licking up your wetness, and a reluctant moan escapes your lips at the rough feel on your sensitive parts.

A gleam to your right catches your attention and a flicker of hope rushes through you at the sight. Neteyam’s knife is laying on the ground next to you, scattered just far enough when he dropped it that it's a stretch for you to grab it, but not impossible. He’s distracted by your cunt, chest rumbling in what you can only describe as a more aggressive type of purr and your face contorts in unwanted pleasure as the vibrations pulse against your clit.

You reach for the knife, using one hand pressed against the tile to gain any kind of leverage you can while your other arm stretches out towards the forgotten blade. You're not even sure what you’re going to do with it when it’s in your hand. Would you just threaten him with it? Tell him to back off and that you’ll use it if he doesn’t? Would you cut him a little to show that you’re serious?

Would you stab him if it came to it?

Your fingers graze along the hilt of the knife, fingertips brushing along the part that it can touch and curling in, trying to coax the knife just a bit closer so you can grab it. Neteyam growls into your cunt, and you let out a gasping curse when his foot lands on your wrist, pinning it to the tile before you can work your hand around the knife.

“You son of a bitch!” You yell, anger burning through your desperation, but all Neteyam does is push his face deeper into your pussy. His large hands rip at the back of your shorts more, fingers digging into the exposed curves of your ass to spread you apart.

The pressure in your belly intensifies as he sucks on your clit, laving his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves before wrapping his lips around it in what feels like an almost pleasured punishment.

You’re going to cum. Fuck fuck you’re going to cum on the tongue of the practically feral Na’vi who just chased you through the halls of your own home and made you think he was going to rip you to shreds and leave you to die on the floor for your coworkers to find. It feels so good, so so good and you wail as your pussy spasms against his relentless tongue, contracting against the wet muscle as the coil in your belly bursts in an explosion of uncontrolled pleasure.

Neteyam groans against your core, lapping up everything you have to offer as you whine and shake. Your legs, still suspended in the air, are becoming numb - the tingling sensation of your limbs losing their life combining with the dramatic pulsing over your oversensitive cunt.

You grunt as he drops you to the ground, his foot lifting off your wrist as he crouches back up, and you pull it to your chest, cradling it there and quickly checking for any injury as your body automatically tries to curl up in a protective ball.

His hands are back on your hips in an instant, pulling you back again across the floor until your ass is pressed up against his front. Your blood runs cold when your bare ass meets bare skin. The bulge that was once blocked by the thin layer of his loincloth is now free - large, dominant, and demanding of attention as it presses tightly against you.

Demanding of your attention.

The hand on the back of your neck is uncaring as it pushes you down, forcing your face against the white tiled floor as he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Neteyam, no! Please!” You beg, even as your back is forced to arch from the exposed position he has you in.

And maybe if this was a different situation, a different circumstance, he would have used this opportunity to tease you. Tell you to stop fussing and stay still. To be a good girl for him while he fucks your tight cunt and maybe if you’re good enough, he would let you cum again. You would let him. Neteyam is beautiful, more handsome than any other Na’vi you’ve ever seen. If he would have been kind to you and shown interest in you like that, you would have agreed to fuck him in a heartbeat.

But he’s not himself. Doesn’t even have his mind enough to acknowledge your pleas with anything more than agitated snarls and frustrated growls.

His cock feels monstrous as he rubs it between your soaked folds. Thick and hard as the wetness of his own slick mixes with the sticky mess you have already between your thighs. The head of his cock rubs against your tender clit and you can feel how the sheer size of it forces your pussy lips apart.

You can’t take it inside you. Fuck. You can’t. You can’t.

You whimper when the tip makes its way back to your entrance, nudging against it before the blunt tip presses forward. Your hands press into the tile on either side of your head, mouth falling open in a silent scream even as he presses your cheek further into the floor as he pushes his cock further into you. You feel every thick inch of it as it spears you open, and you expect it to hurt. It should hurt, especially with the way you’re clamping down around him, body automatically trying to keep it out even as it bullies its way deeper inside you.

There’s pressure, so much pressure. He’s too big, large alien cock way too much for your tiny human body to take, but somehow it is. Your brain is trying to tell you to panic, that the pressure is pain and you should scream and cry and try to wiggle away from it. But it's not. He’s stretching you so much, filling you up - but it doesn’t. hurt.

And that realization hurts you more than the cock currently rearranging your guts ever could.

You know it’s the slick. Despite never being with a Na’vi yourself, you know that the wetness that coats a male’s cock to aid it with slipping out of its protective sheath has something in it that eases the pain of penetration. It’s a good thing. Inherently helpful for any relationship, especially for those between a human and a Na’vi to curb the extra struggle of the size difference.

You always thought it was sweet. A way for Eywa to reward the loyalty of the good sky people who are lucky enough to find everlasting bonds with her own children.

Now, the idea of it leaves a bad taste in your mouth as the cock inside you pulls out only to thrust in harder. The texture on his cock scrapes against your slick walls as he starts to fuck you, the bumps and barbs rubbing and pressing against the sensitive spots inside you that you didn’t even know you had.

A waterfall of moans and whines rip from your throat as he moves faster, your higher pitched pathetic sounds a stark contrast to his deep guttural grunts. His hand is off the back of your neck now, instead finding a place at the side of your face as he keeps you pinned to the floor. It’s so big compared to your head that it spans the entirety of it, thumb hooking just under the edge of your jaw while his fingers curl around the top of your head as he holds you down.

Your thighs shake underneath you as he pounds into you, thick cock so far inside you that you know there has to be a bulge in your belly. There is, you can feel it. The way the head of his cock pushes against your lower abdomen roughly with each thrust and you know that if you could move your hands from the death grip press they have on the tile, you could feel it disappear and reappear under your palm.

He adjusts behind you, both feet planted on the ground as he crouches behind you to try to push in deeper. Pleasure soaks into your brain as you subconsciously push back against him, pussy clenching and squeezing around him trying to suck him in.

“N-Neteyam,” And you have more to say, you do. But you can’t form thoughts anymore. Nothing else will come out other than little punched out breathless gasps.

It takes you a long time to realize that he’s speaking, and even longer for your fucked up and fucked out raddled brain to register what he’s saying. It’s not normal sentences, it’s not even English. His words are still animalistic, growled through gritted teeth as he spits out broken Na’vi between his groans of pleasure. You grew up with the language, but you’re so distracted, so overwhelmed by him and the cock inside you that your brain can’t seem to latch on to what he’s saying.

You think you hear the word for ‘whore’, maybe ‘take it’, something ‘baby’ but you can’t be sure.

And then he’s leaning forward, body curving overtop yours as he covers you completely. It’s only then you feel what you’ve been too distracted to notice. The thick knot at the base of his cock, fully engorged now as it prods at your entrance.

Your hands finally leave their place pressed against the floor as you throw them behind you in newfound panic. One hand pushes against his abdomen as best as it can, trying to slow his thrusts while the other grabs at his wrist in an effort to pull his hand away from your face. The hand on his abdomen doesn’t do anything to slow his relentless pace, but the hand on the side of your head moves to tangle in your hair, gripping it in his fist close to your scalp just hard enough to burn a little as he yanks your head back.

You gasp at the sharp sting and your gasp quickly turns into a whimper as his knot presses tighter against your soaking hole. He’s unforgiving as he digs it against you, holding your hair tight and forcing your back to arch as you stretch even further around it. You’re too wet, pussy too wet and almost greedy and it takes him in, determined despite the obscene size of the engorged ball of tissue.

“Please!” You squeal. Please stop. Please more. “Neteyam, fuck!”

Your eyes roll back into your head when the knot slips inside you, sheathing itself within your heat with another solid push of Neteyam’s hips against your ass. His cock hits that spot inside you that makes you see stars, your vision whiting out and there feels like there’s cotton in your ears as you cum around him, squeezing him tightly as you soak his length in your juices. Your breath catches in your lungs when you feel his cock pulse inside you, twitching and feeling like it’s expanding even bigger as his own orgasm hits him.

He holds you close, keeping you pinned and still underneath him with the savage hand in your hair and the firm grip he has on your hip - fierce and unmoving as if to keep you from running away.

As if you even could with the knot locked inside you.

His growl of pleasure reverberates off the walls as he paints yours. Long, thick ropes of release coating your insides and it's so much, so so much that you feel like you can’t fit anymore. Like if he cums anymore, you’ll burst. The knot is still lodged inside you, locked in and refusing to let you free, but there’s no space left inside you, no space, and you feel the excess cum seep out of your hole from around his knot to trail down the insides of your thighs.

You don’t remember blacking out, and you’re not sure when Neteyam was able to pull free from you or when he passed out next to you either. But when you wake up next, it’s to voices.

“Oh my gosh!”

“Y/N!”

“What the fuck happened?”

The bright florescent lights of the lab are blinding when you try to open your eyes. Exhaustion seeps from every pore of your body and fuck, you feel so sore.

Norm’s shocked face is looking down at you when your eyes finally adjust to the light, Max and a few of the other scientists are behind him, faces an equal mixture of shock and horror as they stare at you with wide eyes.

It takes you a moment to remember what happened - why you’re here, waking up on the cold floor of the lab. Naked. You scramble up, hands clutching at your chest as you desperately try to cover yourself. A deep groan to your right steals your attention from your group of onlookers, and your eyes fall on Neteyam, just waking up from his own sleep.

His eyes are back to their normal gold as they open, groggy at first and then alert in a heartbeat as it registers where he is. He’s up in a crouch in an instant, looking ready to fight but not really sure what he’s supposed to be fighting. Those golden eyes catch on the group, confusion twisting on his face and you can practically see the gears in his brain turning as he tries to figure out what’s going on.

Then his eyes meet yours, taking in your torn clothes and near nakedness, and you sit in horror as it clicks for him what must have happened.

And you watch as the horror in your eyes becomes mirrored in his.

**Special thanks to @quicktosimp and @itchaboi-itchyboy for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @minnory @localjasmine @skywonder @neteyamswillow @luvv4j4ybe11 @vampirefilmlover @aria-tempest @pocky444 @bambithewriter @xylianasblog @anemonelovesfiction @criticallybella

**Comment here to be added to/removed from my taglist!

#𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✎#AvatarSurviveTheNight #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam x human reader smut #tw: noncon #tw: non con #tw: dubcon #tw: dubious consent

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desertfangs · 4 months

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I’ve been thinking about Armand/Daniel a lot lately (as one does) and yes the whole thing is incredible but for some reason I can’t get this line out of my head: “In the midst of life they plunged”, and how perfectly it encapsulates their entire relationship. Like the IMPLICATIONS of it. Armand hadn’t actually had a life, perhaps only a semblance of it, in over 300 years, and this mortal boy gave it to him and offered him a shot at an actual existence. Full of experiences, adventures, discoveries, opportunities, romance, fighting, crying, LIVING. The highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Daniel giving Armand the opportunity to have a life and to reclaim his youth will never not make me feral ❤️‍🩹

Anon! It's like you're inside my head, because I, too, think about them all the time. That line though is really awesome and it does encapsulate their relationship so well. You're so right about this and you should say it.

Like, if you think about it, it's exactly true that Armand hasn't had much of a life for a long time. He spent decades with Louis, living in a shared misery. And while I fully believe they had tender moments during that period, I think it was few and far between. Armand wanted Louis to be his guide to the modern era, but Louis was too lost in his grief and pain and numbness to be that for him. When that finally ends, he spends the next decades watching over a sleeping Lestat, keeping the city free of "vermin" to protect him like a guardian who wasn't asked for.

And basically seems to be his life when Daniel crashes into Lestat's house and starts playing those tapes. He's just chilling in New Orleans, watching over the dirt where Lestat is buried, as life moves around him.

The Chase gives Armand something else to do, to focus on. He follows this young reporter boy around tormenting him and teasing him and in the process, he starts to delve into the modern era, learning about things Daniel does and places he goes and even his means of travel - accosting him on a train, in a taxi. He bails him out of jail. He orders dinner for him at a restaurant in the most unhinged way possible, but it's also the sort of thing you might do if you just want to push some of the limits around you.

And then they come together as a couple, finally, and then into the very midst of life they plunge! Armand finally has someone who will do all the things with him: parties, shows, concerts, museums, travel. Daniel has been patiently (and not so patiently) teaching him about the modern world for years already, so now they really dive in. And as you point out, they also plunge head first into a relationship, living together, existing together as a couple and figuring out what that means, and everything that entails, good and bad.

It really is Armand getting a second chance at his youth and his first opportunity in centuries to just be a guy and experience the world on the arm of this beautiful, curious, sardonic boy who loves him for what he is and who he is and is passionate and gentle, even as he can be defiant and argumentative.

It makes me feral, too. Like it's just so good. Daniel gives him the world and the love he deserves, and in the end, Armand gives him forever. And I just... love them so, so much. 😭😭💖

Thank you so much for this ask!

#and sorry it took me an eon to get to this my brain was absolute toast on friday #it made me happy to see it but i wanted to respond propery #anonymous #daniel molloy #armand #armand/daniel #the devil's minion #vc #vc meta #queen of the damned #answers in the desert #devil's minion

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stevenssticks · 1 year

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I'M GOING THROUGH A BRAINROT THINKING ABOUT VIRGIN EARLY METALLICA JAMES HETFIELD

Our boy didn't had the best parents and as the Man himself Said, he grew up being way too sheltered from the world so Can you guys imagine How fucking pent up, excited and desperate This Man might have been to get his First lay?

And his first lay Being his dear girl best friend, literally the only girl who he knows that's not with him because of the Band because she's been there pretty much since day one for him, growing up together, living Just some houses away from each other and hanging out almost all day everyday until and helping him with his struggles back home.

Needless to say that James Fell First and fell hard and he has been like This since you guys were 15 at least (bro had been simping for longer than he would like to admit), even If he took notice of the way that you made him feel back in those years, It was easier to blame puberty....but things didn't mellow out after This at all, in fact, It only got worse as the years went by, the wholesome daydreaming of curious childish kisses turning into wet and sticky nights where our Young man would be haunted by the most lascivous and erotic dreams with his sweetheart that would lead to him eventually losing sleep and spending almost the whole night desperatly touching himself, chasing after a relief that never seemed to really saciate him completely, not even porn magazines or tapes could help him out because they weren't his girl (possessive baby before even making the First move)

It took him Being away for some time, getting the band stuff going and coming back to his Sweet friend all Grown up and more than eager to welcome him back home to finally break

He would be so desperate for her, so pent up and aroused by her simply embracing him in a hug that he couldn't help the groan that left his mouth as he burried his face on the crook of her neck and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly close to his body, much to her joy that finally realised that all These years he was in love with her as much as she was in love with him, she Just didn't expected to Discover This via a raging boner poking against her tummy

(Someone pray for his sweetheart, our boy still don't know he's a bigger and thiccer than the average)

this just made me let out a noise that i will never let myself live down omg......

james would be allllll over you when he finally gets you in his bed. desperately pawing at you barely even getting his pants down to fuck you. he would be moaning in your ear telling you how good he feels and how he's waited for this for so long. how much he loves you and wants you to really feel it. he would fuck you into the mattress bc hes so wound up and feral for you but oh does he love on you the whole time. chests pressed tight together, your legs around his waist and ur holding his hands at the sides of your head<3333

him cumming embarrassingly quick and just going down to eat your pussy after bc he didn't make you cum and he needs to see it. needs to see you fall apart for him. and then he gets hard again bc our baby has STAMINA okay he's like 19-20 ish, and winds up rutting into the bed until he cums for a second time while he sucks on your clit until you lock your legs around his head and cum into his mouth.

young james young james young james

#asks and replies #metallica #james hetfield #james hetfield smut #james hetfield x reader

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rogueddie · 1 year

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Vampire Eddie, Steddie Fic Rec List!!!

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 🦇

soundtrack of our summer (side a)

hawkeyedkoi

For over six months, after Hawkins and the Upside Down merge, Steve Harrington is plagued by nightmares. Vines choking him, Eddie dying, and a host of other nighttime horrors. It all changes one night in October 1986 when, instead of the Creel House or the trailer park, Steve dreams about a warm spring day at Skull Rock featuring one very familiar metalhead.

Sure, his subconscious' version of Eddie Munson makes some weird comments about being alive in the Upside Down sometimes, but that's just his brain's way of coping with Eddie's death ... Right?

Words : 100,042 Chapters : 11/11 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

Obey

Wrenegade (Wrenegadeone)

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t stop the fact that Eddie–,” Steve threw a hand out, gesturing to Eddie and ignoring the indignant look on Eddie’s face, “--wants to eat me,” Steve’s hand was back at himself, gesturing to his throat with dramatic emphasis.

“Just a little bit,” Eddie found himself saying while making a pinching motion, if only because part of him particularly enjoyed getting a rise out of Steve if given the opportunity.

Words : 65,042 Chapters : 17/17 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Feral

TheDeathsWish

Eddie has turned a bit… feral after coming back to life. It’s understandable, what with the whole being a vampire thing.

What Steve doesn’t expect is the gifts he keeps finding everywhere.

Words : 10,970 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

Hunger

Ash_Fountain

When a traumatic truth is revealed at a metal concert in Chicago, Steve decides to reveal his own secret to a distraught Eddie sparking a unique relationship.

Words : 33,265 Chapters : 8/8 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

You're Divine

OonionChiver

Eddie can’t seem to look away, can’t bring his ethereal gaze back up where it belongs. Steve thinks he should run, he should flee. A tiny part of him knows Eddie will chase him. Eddie will catch him, outrun him easily.

It's more than a little fucked up how that thrills him.

Words : 259,574 Chapters : 8/8 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

My Blessing

Undreaming

Back when Eddie was still human, he used to think it would be incredibly cool to be a vampire. Child of the night, Nosferatu, all that stuff from his beloved books. He would be untouchable and the people who wanted to hurt him just for being different would wither away and die of old age while he'd still be the same. But as he's learned during last 80-ish years, being a vampire sucks.

Words : 1,928 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Devour

girafe13

Steve can’t look away. The sounds and voices from the church echo from a distance as the stranger leans in, propping his arm on the doorframe. Steve feels sweat gather on his brow. It’s only after he takes a step towards the stranger that he realizes he’s done so. Steve feels at the very end of a cliff, ready to fall willingly, anything to get closer to the ledge.

“Deputy ,” says the stranger, trailing off, pointing at his chest, not quite touching - oh, Steve wants him to, wants it like he needs air in his lungs - where his badge hangs. "Impressive."

Words : 36,899 Chapters : 10/10 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

A Secret In Your Throat

VampireEddie

Eddie returns - only it's not quite Eddie. Created by Vecna, a new being has taken over Eddie's mind - and he has his sights set on Steve Harrington. But what begins as a kidnapping may start to shift as Kas spends more time around Steve, and as Eddie tries to take back control of his body.

Words : 44,540 Chapters : 10/10 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

I didn't know that I was starving 'till I tasted you

Lihhelsing, tinkerbclla

Steve Harrington didn't really need much to be happy. He was finally signing divorce papers, ready to be free of his ex-wife. He liked his job at the coffee shop, especially because he got to do it beside his best friend in the whole world. And it didn't hurt that Steve's favorite customer, a guy with dark messy curls and a smile to die for, kept coming back to order his usual.

The only weird thing was that Eddie didn't seem to be drinking his coffee because his cup was always full at the end of the night. So Steve made his mission to find a drink Eddie would like, he just didn't imagine it would be something a little... Different.

Words : 16,063 Chapters : 1/1 Rating. : Explicit

AO3 : x

neighborhood gods

paxlux

It’s a legend. It’s a different kind of fairy tale, who wants to hear it. How one boy became wolf because of his stupid heart and the other became vampire because of his storybook courage. Keep an eye on the woods, there’s something out there.

Words : 13,335 Chapters. : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

How I’d Kill (to See You Again)

morningberries

“Are you going to kill me?” Steve’s voice was small, the question choking out of him without permission.

Did he even want to know the answer? It was probably as obvious as it seemed, as Eddie rose an eyebrow at him.

“Kill you? Oh, Stevie, I would never.” Eddie dropped to one knee by Steve’s side. His head leaned down, so close to Steve’s ear that he could feel his hot breath ticking against his hair. “I like my meals hot.”

Words : 66,826 Chapters : 10/10 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

Steve's Got a Date with a Vampire!

inairbinad

Eddie immediately pulled something out of his jacket—was that donated blood?—then tore into the bag and sucked its contents down like, well, water.

Then Steve had questions. The first of which being a hearty, “The fuck?”

Eddie drained the bag and let his head fall back to rest on the seat, exposing the column of his neck. Steve swallowed, cursing his brain to pay attention to what the hell was happening instead of being a slut for once. Eddie lolled his head to look at Steve and gave him a gleaming, bloody smile.

“So, funny story,” he paused. If Steve had to guess it must’ve been for dramatic effect. “I think I’m a vampire.”

Words : 33,485 Chapters : 7/7 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

You and Me (In the Center of the Apocalypse)

novacorpsrecruit

“Not g’na make it,” Eddie said, his voice shaking at the reality they were facing. “Not both of us.”

Steve glanced towards the gate. Eddie’s right. They both can’t make it through. Steve wouldn’t have time to even help Eddie through without the lining closing on him.

If Steve was gonna go through, he had to go now.

He couldn’t leave Eddie here to die.

Steve stepped back, dropping the stick.

“D-dingus?” Robin called. Her voice sounding far away. “No — no, Nancy we gotta — we gotta!”

The mucus lining started to bulge with their attempts to break the seal, the lining growing stronger, thicker, like healing skin. It slowly started to scar over, dark like a scab. It turned dark, hard, and solid. Steve couldn’t hear them anymore.

“You dumbass,” Eddie exhaled sharply. “You’re stuck.”

Words : 58,194 Chapters : 8/8 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

Steve Harrington: Vampire Hunter

Hbyrde

Steve Harrington is an animator. It’s a job that involves raising the dead; sometimes as a service for mourning relatives looking for closure, often as a tool for the courts to settle disputes.

Steve Harrington is also a licensed vampire hunter.

Two years ago, vampirism became legal in the United States, granting its undead population citizenship. With this new legal status comes a complication for Steve, as he finds himself tasked with helping the very creatures he is accustomed to killing.

Speaking of complications, Steve struggles in more ways than one when he finds himself working closely with none other than Eddie Munson, an undeniably sexy several-hundred-years old master vampire.

Words : 91,810 Chapters : 17/17 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #vampire eddie munson #fic rec #ficrec #very short but also these are my numb 1 faves #my beloveds

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pigeonmilk-216 · 1 year

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House MD makes me absolutely FERAL.

For instance, I finished rewatching S3 E15, "Half-Wit", the one when House fakes cancer so he can get high (typical). And

AHHH

Everyone's response to House potentially dying is EVERYTHING. And displays both the characters and their character growth SO WELL.

Wilson, ofc, is offended that his best friend *cough* *lover* *cough* didn't say anything, and hid it. And something I think (and forgive me if this is not actually how it went down to everyone else, it's 1am and I have brainrot) is really interesting, is that beyond Wilson giving House shit for not saying anything, Wilson doesn't give any of the platitudes that everyone else gives. We don't see Wilson trying to "fix" anything or say, "House your dying, can we have an actual human connection for once?". No no, Wilson just lets him be.

Now, either Wilson is pissed and reeling from this news , and is just distancing himself (which tbh feels ooc, like House has crossed worse lines before, and Wilson deals with cancer everyday, idk).

OR you can look at the option of Wilson knows House well enough (and cancer, let's be real) that trying to fix it, won't change anything, that coming up to House and trying to "console" him won't do anything. House is House, and Wilson KNOWS THAT. Wilson knows that if House really and truly wants a conversation about it, or any comfort, House will just be like, " Yo, can we go get wasted?" and that's that.

AND THEN HIS FUCKING ANALYSIS AT THE END AND HIM FUCKING LAUGHING AT THE IRONY.

And Cuddy, I feel like, is the middle ground between how Wilson and the kids react. She doesn't go out of her way to say something, but in an almost hand-on-the- doorknob-as-I'm-leaving type way does she say something. AND THEN THEIR BANTER IN THE HALL IS FUCKING EVERYTHINGG. And her FUCKING smile as House grabs her ass (istg I can only say this in real action to this fucking show) but still dismissing him coming to the bedroom with her

Like both her and Wilson and obviously hurt, right, but they don't outright change their behavior toward House or anything, but they accept it (kind of) and don't go out of their way to change anything,

AND THEN THE KIDS' RESPONSES. ANHHH

I love Chase's moment. He's just like, "Dad, shut up and let me hug you" AND FUCKING STARTS CRYING

CHASE IS LITERALLY THE ONLY ONE WHO CRIES

He's like, "Goddammit, I'm going to lose two of my parentals to this cancerous bullshit. Tf."

AND HUGH LARUIE'S ACTING I CANT

YOU CAN SEE HOUSE REALIZING THAT, "oh shit, they really care and this is really going to hurt them" LIKE WHAT THE HELL. MY HEART, FUCK THIS SHOW WTH

And I love how Cameron is shown in this episode, over the first three seasons, we can see her kinda of coming to her own, and learning from House, so instead of like, backing down from helping House she just fucking kisses him so she can steal his blood. Like. YES CAMERON. GET IT.

AND AGAIN

HUGH LAURIE. YOU CAN SEE HOUSE'S HESITATION, WEIGHING THE PROS AND CONS BEFORE KSSING BACK.

And tbh I feel like House is low key proud of Cameron for a moment in a "she is taking after me" type way.

And Foreman trying not to care, but caring the whole time, and HIS FACE WHEN HES TELLING HOUSE HE DOESNT HAVE CANCER. LIKE. JXNKSCVJVXFBJKBFVSKJ

And I just love everyone's reaction five seconds later when they realize

"House is an addict. Right. Fucking this was a sham, fuck"

AND THEIR FACES ARE EVEYTHING

Cameron is crestfallen, outraged. Foreman is slightly pissed but completely nonplussed almost? Like a I should have expected this/this is such a House thing, which is why I dislike the man. And his sarcastic response is EVERYTHING And, Chase, oh Chase. He's so disbelieving and hurt. Like my baby I'm so sorry.

And House like really understanding how much this hurt them, and kinda of being a fucking TOTAL IDIOT and like slightly scared I feel but arrogant enough to just fucking like. Trying to blame so he doesn't feel guilty (he does) pushing them away so he doesn't have to face consequences (he's spiraling) and and after Wilson (finally) talks to him, having to stop and THINK about how fucking miserable is he really (he's such and idiot) and just AHHH

AND THEN HIM FUCKING GOING INTO THE RESTAURANT AT THE END?????? ITS A FUCKING CRIME THAT WE DON'T SEE THAT CONVERSATION BETWEEN HIM AND THEM. LIKE SIR, I WANT TO THIS POTENTIALLY EMOTIONALLY CHARGED MOMENT. LIKE

And honestly, Ilove how House interacts with the patient in the episode, it's on par with the boy who had autism earlier this season. Like the piano part is what really intrigues him, but still goes forth to give him his life back. Idk, just felt special.

Okay, um so thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. Idk what happened.

#This is more of a stream of consciousness than a thought #But this just made me so FERAL #I love them #This dysfunctional doctor family #I think this episode made me realize how much I like Chases character #house md #greg house #james wilson #S3e15 #I feel like ppl don't talk about this episode a lot but it's one of my favorite tbh #robert chase #alison cameron #lisa cuddy

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wisecrackingeric-2 · 1 year

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My thoughts on Resident Evil Death Island: spoilers ahead!!!!

I made a spoiler-free post on my page talking about my opinions on Death island, but here’s my spoiler-filled summary and thoughts on the whole movie!!!!!! This isn’t a one-to-one summary/explanation of what happens in the movie, if that’s what you want, you can find it on @highball66 ‘s page!!!!

Spoilers ahead under cut!!!

When people said this was Jills movie and she was THE main character i didint really believe them. But they were RIGHT. She IS THE MOMENT. SHES THE REAL STAR OF THIS MOVIE. She goes off H A R D

Ok first off. THE BEGINNING????????? I went absolutely F E R A L when I saw we were seeing the POV of umbrella soldiers during the initial Racoon City Outbreak oh my GOD IT WAS SO STRESSFUL. The harsh cut from the two dudes talking in the car, fighting back against civilians to having to isolate their friends after they got infected inside of a meat fridge(???) it was SO INTENSE I WAS GOING ABSOLUTELY FERAL. Basically the main villain was an Umbrella solider named Dylan and was working alongside his best friend JJ, and they were sent to Raccoon City to deal with people trying to break out, but it cuts to all their team members hiding in a meat fridge all having been infected while him and his best friend are the only ones who’re ok, and when they asked for backup to figure out what to do with their infected teammates, the comms come back telling them to lock them in a room and kill them all. The main villain is BEGGING his friend not to and all hell breaks loose as his friend kills all of them, because once they turn into zombies they manage to break out of the room and attack him, and Dylan is literally on the ground screaming for his friend not to and for all of it to stop and it’s PAINFULL. HES LITERALLY CURLED UP CRYING BEHIND A TABLE BEGGING HIS FRIEND TO STOP. T H E N his FRIEND (who is TOTALLY HIS GAY LOVER BY THE WAY. THEY WERE D E F I N I T E L Y GAY) gets infected and he’s FORCED TO KILL HIM OH MY GOD IT WAS SO AHANDHDNXHXNX IT WAS SO GENUIENLY TENSE

Also the Villains motivations were actually really decent??????? It wasn’t his intention to kill random innocent people like Glenn Arias, he specifically made T-Virus filled mosquitos he able to be controlled by his command so he could pick out and specify who to kill, and he wanted to kill SPECIFICALLY people in power or in governments or the BSAA/Terrasave etc etc etc, and he even bought up a few REALLY good points, like how they in the end don’t actually help innocent civilians and how it’s just a big money-making venture for them. Of all the RE villains, this guy was actually really compelling and interesting and genuinely intimidating

He has this repeated thing he does throughout the movie where he’ll get his gun, unload the bullets, point it to his head and pull the trigger just to get that feeling cuz he feels so guilty for killing his “””best friend””” (Totally his boyfriend) and it was s o unnerving to watch.

Also, Dr Taylor’s back!!! And there’s this one REALLY genuinely tense scene where he’s being forced to finish making the weird mosquito thingies, and as the villain (his named Dylan) is congratulating him he’s also pointing a gun to his head and it’s set up in such a way that’s so tense my friend next to me was audibly holding her breath in fright chsnxhsnxjns

Anyways,, LEON ON HIS MOTORCYCLE!!!!!! AND HUNNIGAN IS THERE!!! We never see her face but we hear her voice heaps!!!!!!! He chases after Glenn Arias’ daughter Maria but in classic Leon fashion, he is DESTROYED by her choke-slamming him with her thighs and he crashes the bike. Classic silly goose Leon

Also when Claire goes onto the beach to investigate the orcas, the locals are hesitant of her once she tells them she’s from Terrasave which is a reoccurring theme in the movie

There’s this REALLY AWESOME super tense scene that’s probably the only truly scary scene in the movie where Jills investigating a house for survivors after a zombie attack, and a zombie jumpscares her and she smashed it into a table (which is where the scene from the trailer comes from,) and Chris breaks in with us team and tries to tell her off for going in on her own and being reckless

Later on, Chris is talking with Rebecca and he’s like “I’m making Jill do the mission report for this mission cuz she went in recklessly >:((“ and Rebecca was like “oooooh. Punishment :)” and Chris was like “huh??? Whuh?? No!!” Which made me crack up laughing HCNDHDNDISN but then Rebecca tries to explain that she’s probably struggling with what happened when Wesker brainwashed her, and how she was probably taking that anger out on herself. Chris obviously goes to comfort her at the shooting range, and there’s this cute moment where he walks in covering his ears going 🥺 cuz she’s shooting, and he tries to comfort her and tell her about how he was planning for PIERS NIVANS TO TAKE OVER AND HOW HE FEELS GUILTY FOR HIS DEATH WAAAHHHHH and he tries to tell her that in their line of work death is inevitable, and that it’s worth it to keep going, and Jill opens up about how awful it was to be under Weskers control, and that she felt like she wanted nothing more than to kill them all. She opened up about how all she wanted to do was save innocent lives but now after everything she’s seen she just feels numb, which was SUCH an impactful scene for her, and Chris tried to tell her it’s not worth becoming numb because that’s how you loose your humanity, but she ignores him to keep shooting.

Spoilers, her trauma is never really truly resolved by the end of the movie, which is a real shame; but it’s nice to see it being acknowledged at all, and the scene was really sweet (also while Chris watches her wistfully shooting while ignoring him this time he d o e s n t cover his ears??? You’re gonna go deaf old man!!)

Next, Chris, Claire and Jill are all hanging out in Rebecca’s office talking about life and how boring having to beat up bad guys is over coffee and it’s SO CUTE AND DOMESTIC RAGH and then they all go to meet up with Claire and talk about how the T-Virus is infecting people only on Alcatraz and how more cases are spreading blah blah blah plot stuff but next scene they arrive on a boat to Alcatraz DISGUISED AS TOURISTS AND CHRIS HAS THE FULL HAWAIIAN SHIRT GOIN ON ITS SO CUTE AAAAAAA and Jill has this cute lil cardigan on meanwhile Claire didint even bother trying to disguise herself???

There’s this scene where this YouTuber dude is being recorded and he’s being all loud and annoying and it FEELS like an obvious dig at Mr Beast and it was SO FUNNY my friend and I were SHITTING ourself laughing the whole time, and then booyah everyone gets infected from mosquitoes and turns into zombies except for the three main guys, and they CLIMB AROUND THE PRISON LIKE FUCKING MONKEYS????? IT WAS S O SILLY AND FUNNY I WAS LAUGHING SO HARD and as Chris and Claire are mowing down the zombies Jill gets seperated from them and falls into the sewers, where she gets lost and runs into Leon- she thinks he’s a zombie at first so they have this really cool mini fight-scene before they finally meet eye-to-eye and she’s like “:00 Leon??” And he responds “Well whaddya know. It’s Jill Valentine!” And it was SO CUTE WAH and he tells her that he’s been looking for the one and only Doctor Taylor and in his words says “he’s wanted by the US-Of-A” oh my god I love this man so much he’s so goofy and these weird marine lickers come out of the water and they have to stay quiet and there’s this one moment where the lickers tongue slides up Jill’s body and my friend and I were looking at each other like 😀 the whole time HCNSHDNSUD before Leon eventually shoots it and summons more.

Their dynamic is S O GOOD I CANT EXPRESS ENOUGH HOW GREAT THEIR DYNAMIC IS Leon asks if Jill has a gun and she says she lost it, so he does this funky lil gun trip and twirls it before giving it to her and she’s like “thanks :)” and as more Lickers arrive she immediately tells him to DUCK and he just leaps in the opposite y direction, and as they’re running away from them Jill asks;

“How many are there?!”

And Leon responds

“I ain’t stoppin’ to count em’!”

And my friend and I were S H I T T I N G OURSELVES LAUGJING and when they FINALLY manage to blow them up Leon goes

“Zero”

“Huh???”

“You asked how many there were. Zero, now :)” HES SO GOOFY I WANNA MARRY HIM

Their dynamic is SO GOOD

Then, Chris and Claire find Dr Taylor hiding in a little box, who introduces himself with a fake name and is CLEARLY pretending to be a good guy. Claire tells him she’s with Terrasave and his first reaction IS TO CALL HER A TERRORIST AND SAY TERRASAVE WAS BEHIND HARVARDVILLE?????? Claire obviously CHEWS HIM OUT and Chris stops them but goddamn I think homegirl deserved to destroy him. Claire tends to his wounds anyways, and she and Chris tells him they’d help him even if he was one of the bad guys and in that moment my friend turned to me and I’m a really goofy voice said “I am the bad guy” and I shit myself laughing

Then Chris and Claire are bit by the T-Virus mosquitoes, and they’re officially out of service for a good portion of the movie. One of my only VERY VERY FEW negatives abt this movie is that Claire and Chris were thrown away for the better part of the middle half, but it’s ABSOLUTELY made up for by the fact that we get to see Jill kick ass and the fact that we get to see Claire and Chris on seen hanging out together just in general

Jill and Leon are still stuck in the sewers and Leon uses his air bender powers to feel a draft, pushes a brick and reveals a secret passageway oooooOOoOoOoo, but Jill is hesitant to go inside and Leon’s like “Hey don’t worry, it’ll be just like a prison break :)” AND I WAS JUST AGAGSGDHXUSH

As they’re crawling on their hands and knees through the passageway Jill says something sarcastic that made me laugh (I don’t remember what it was grrrr) and Leon does this little half giggle and a smile and just :))) ARGAGAGAGAGAH

Then the two of them find the big main Lab, and Leon’s like “this must be where they’re making the virus” and Jill in THE MOST SARCASTIC VOICE EVER goes “Woah, really? You think??” IT MADE ME LAUGH SO HARD and Jill IMMEDIATELY suggests that they simply just. Blow it up. And Leon agrees. God I love them. Then Dylan talks over the speaker teasing them to come rescue their friends like Teehehehe Hohoho :)))) it was so silly

Then. Hooooooooo boy. It was THE ship scene of ALL TIME.

Claire and Chris are in seperate cells and find out their are slowly mutating, Claire quicker than Chris, and Dr Taylor is stuck inside with her. Jill immediately runs to Chris’ bars to hold his hand aaaawwwee and Leon isn’t far behind her, and Dylan reveals his evil secret plan to unleash the Mosquitoes ro specifically kill people he wants to turn into zombies. Dylan infects Leon, but spares Jill from it. Dylan then teases her, talking about how he wants her to experience the same pain he felt during Raccoon City and he SPECIFICALLY teases her need to save innocent people by tRYING TO FORCE HER TO KILL CLAIRE AND SAVE DR TAYLOR and she’s getting flashbacks to when she was brainwashed by Wesker and was gonna kill everyone and UGH IT WAS SO GOOD JILLS TRAUMA IS ACTUALLY TALKED ABOUT but ofc Jill refuses (because they’re lesbian girlfriends and in love actually) so Dylan kills Dr Taylor and Claire’s heartstrings are ALSO played on when he thanks her for showing him mercy, and says that she is actually helping people and that she needs to keep doing what she’s doing ARGH IT WAS SO SWEET WAH. And the whole thing with Jill not killing Claire?????? Gay. Gay gay gay

T H E N Leon and Chris have this LONG HEART-TO-HEART WHILE SITTING BACK TO BACK about how the world is fucked, but Chris reassures Leon that they’re doing the right thing, and Leon says that they can’t save the world by killing it, and it’s SUCH a sweet wholesome call back to Leon’s state in Vendetta and he’s clearly doing a lot better now :))

THEN as Dr Taylor’s dying and Claire is having her own emotional scene, he asks them all how they’re staying so positive, and Leon responds;

“We’ve got Jill :)”

MY FRIEND AND I BOTH AUDIBLY WENT AAAAWWWWEEE THEYVE GOT JILL WHEN WE HEARD IT AGSBXYSNXHDHXH

Dylan then explains how he wants to force the group to experience the same pain of having to kill his best friend (gay lover) in Raccoon City like he did, and he specifically makes snide comments to Claire about how Terrasave just puts a bandage over the metaphorical wound and doesn’t actually help innocent people, how Leon just works for corrupt government officials- and Leon just replies with “Yeah just makin’ a livin’ out of it sarcastically while literally dying LEON YOU'RE SO GOOFY STOP BEING SO UNSERIOUS- and then Dylan goes off at Chris for how he throws his teammates into danger and how so many of them die and he still keeps going which OUCH?????? HELLO??? RIP PIERS AND ETHAN IG

Dylan ACTUALLY HAD GOOD POINTS and was a really compelling villain!!!!!! Like his motivations made sense!!!!!!!!!! His sense of vengeance and feeling that the group were a bunch of hypocrites was understandable and compelling!! Especially with his backstory in RC!!!!!!! IT WAS SO GOOD!!

Dylan also goes specifically teases them about how they’re all Pawns for their respective organisations, and hones in on Leon specifically about how he’s a weapon, and them all being ‘Pawns’ is repeated quite a bit throughout the beginning of the movie and the credits which makes me think that may come into play in the future more???? People have theorised that Leon being treated as a government weapon will come back as a plot point in a future game, but with Dylan making actually decent arguments about their respective organisations and the emphasis on all of them being pawns makes me wonder if it’s intentional and will be a big plot point in a future game or something

Also, Leon tries to ask how he’s connected to Glenn Arias, and Dylan just says he was “good friends with him” and that’s how Maria’s there?????? Ok random plot hole but whatever I’m gonna assume they were also gay lovers. Leon then throws a flash Grenade at Maria so Jill has time to escape and kick ass

Meanwhile, Rebecca gets a call from Hunnigan explaining what’s been going on and Rebecca picks up the vaccine and travels to Alcatraz with a squad, but they ALL somehow get killed by the big marine lickers?????? And Rebecca just,,, somehow survives???????? Again, my only negative with this movie is that AGAIN Rebecca has almost no role. I’m S O glad she was there so the whole gang could be in a movie together but it was like her role was reversed from Vendetta but not in a good way. She just,, randomly shows up to save the day, give them the virus, and do nothing else. Capcom WHY do you butcher my baby so badly WHY

Rebecca arrives with her vaccine and heals everybody in a very cute scene and Leon is immediately gone- like bro just teleports- and Chris, Claire and Rebecca have this little shot that screams “Besties…… attack !!!!!!!”

Then Leon runs into Maria, and it’s THAT SCENE. They have a fight and Maria is dodging around like she’s Albert Wesker or something and she CHOKES LEON WITH HER THIGHS AND LEON RESPONDS BY SHOVING HIS NOSE IN HER PUSSY. EVERYONES SEEN THAT SCENE and when she’s like “You killed my father. Prepare to die” he’s like “yeah well,,,,, your dad was kind of a dick” Leon said absolutely Z E R O serious lines in this movie. I genuinely think that all of his lines in this film had at least ONE quippy little quote it’s so good. Then he kills her by stabbing her with a pole lawl

Jill and Dylan then have a stand off at the main entrance, and Dylan does the callback to that reoccurring thing he’s been doing the whole movie where he points his own gun to his head, but this time he shouts himself and he falls into the water in slo-mo in a shot that’s actually really cool, and then a BIG MARINE LICKER CREATURE JUST COMES UP AND EATS HIM????? IT WAS SO GOOFY MY FRIEND AND I WERE LAIGHING SO HARD and then he turns INTO A GIANT FUCKING BOW.

AND IT LOOKS E X A C T L Y LIKE THAT MY HORSE PRINCE MOBILE GAME AD

He had this human face with these horse hoof hands and everytime there was a closeup of his weirdly human teeth I could help but shit myself laighing it was way too funny

Then the whole group gangs up together, and they have an avengers endgame moment where they all team up to take down the beast in a big group shot. Claire and Rebecca go back fo the lab to stop the mosquitoes from escaping, Leon rams a car into the beast, Jill and Chris run away and Chris says “that is one tough cookie” while handing Jill a giant bazooka to kill it with, and Leon hangs upside down from the ceiling like a monkey for a lil bit before leaping off of his car, then Jill and Claire get seperated cuz they get FLUNG ACROSS THE ROOM AND SOMEHOW SURVIVE and Leon teams up with Chris to make an EXTRA LARGE BAZOOKA THAT NEEDS TWO SETS OF HANDS AND THEYRE STANDING BACK TO BACK WHILE FIRING IT AND AGSGXHSSB SO GAY

Jill then distracts the beast by grabbing a lighter as a VERY obvious reference to Jurassic park and yells “COME HERE UGLY COME CATCH ME” and runs away for it to follow her, again, VERY obvious Jurassic park reference, while Leon drives a car with Chris and his GIANT BAZOOKA on top (that looks SUSPICIOUSLY like the one Carlos uses in re3) and Leon says “definitely going on vacation after this” WHILE YOU CAN J U S T BARELY SEE HIS TINY LIL HEAD OVER THE STEERING WHEEL AGSHDHSHDHXU and then JILL gets a GIANT ELECTRIC ROCKET LAUNCHED, A G A IN JUST LIKE IN RE3 (pleasently suprised by all the re3 and re2 references in this movie!!) and it’s not enough to kill it BUT it does fall into the water, dragging Jill in with it in this REALLY goofy scene where you can see a closeup of its teeth, and the gang shuts the Alcatraz doors on it to finally kill it. Rebecca and Claire even have this cute little high-five moment in the lab :)))

The movie ends with the gang all standing outside Alcatraz, watching as rescue helicopters come in, and Leon says “after this, I definitely hate prison tours” WHICH,, KING STOP BEING SO SILLY CHSNSJDN and Chris and Jill have this one last sweet moment where he says “I’m glad you’re back :)” and gives her a fist bump which made me CRY.

Also, completely forgot to mention, but when Dylan inevitably has to kill JJ, JJ first tries to pry his own gun to kill himself out of Dylan’s hands, but Dylan fights him back refusing to kill him until he fully turns into a zombie and Dylan has to SMASH HIS SKULL OPEN WITH HIS HEAVY MEDICAL BAG. IT IS S O BRUTAL OH MY G O D

My overall thoughts;

AMAZING. INCREDIBLE. BEST RE MOVIE EVER. DEFINITELY LIVED UP TO MY STANDARDS.

I’ve said this already but again, I wish Rebecca had a more active role. It felt exactly like what happened with her in Vendetta, but in reverse where she just randomly showed up to save everybody. She was barely in this movie for all the important bits

Also, again, the Redfield siblings kinda dissapeared during the middle of the movie but so does Leon I guess.

Jill was truly the star of this movie, it felt like it was her moment to shine and it was GREAT. She popped off like crazy and I couldn’t ask for any more

Also, as awesome and really cool as it was to see everyone’s traumas being directly addressed, it never gets resolved; Jill’s kinda does, as her final words to Dylan are “GET OVER IT” (referring to how he projects his issues onto everybody) and she has that neat fist bump with Chris (But I think they’re saving that fully fleshed out trauma exploration for a future game)

Again, Dylan was also really the star of the movie. He’s easily one of the best villains in RE, and his backstory in Raccoon City was SUCH a cool callback and a realistic motivation. All the references to the games was just cool in general. And he was SCARY, too. Like all the stuff with his guns and the threatening??? It was spooky!!!!

I do wish that this movie ended on a cliffanger and we got to see a sequel, though. I would’ve LOVED to see what would’ve happened if the mosquitoes got out and infected the BSAA, Terrasave and the Governemt like Dylan wanted (again, he actually had a good point in hating all those organisations)

Also, speaking of, the whole reoccurring thing of the gang being called ‘Pawns’ was REALLY interesting??? Like Leon was called the governments secret weapon a lot, Claire was often berated for being apart of Terrasave, etc etc, which makes me think that that might be an important plot point in a future game???? Like maybe they all realise their respective originations are also evil somehow and they’ve all been pawns in a big game????? I’m REALLY excited to see if that goes anywhere

Lastly, man, this movie lived up to its expectations with all the cool character interactions. Ranging from domestic to heartfelt to gay to awesome, it was so neat- Jill and Leon had amazing back-and-fourth chemistry that was SO FUNNY, Chris and Claire FINALLY had some screen time together, Jill + Claire and Leon + Chris had their own adorable gay moments, EVERYTHING with Chris and Jill was PERFECT, Rebecca absolutely teasing everybody and anybody in their little gang- chefs kiss. Mwuah. Couldn’t ask for anything better. Capcom PLEASE put all of your characters together like this again this movie was SO GOOD I LOVED seeing them all interact so much

Also, Dylan and JJ were absolutely gay lovers. That is a hill I will unironically die on

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artistsfuneral · 4 months

Note

Hello! My current project is a ciri x Roche- lol sorry, I couldn't resist, what is with this girl. 😂 I'm working on a jaskier/Geralt fic today, or I will when I'm permitted to move. Right now my labor is required to pet a very good cat. He is orange and very fluffy. Do you have a current project you're excited about? If you're still taking prompts, how about something with cutagens? :3 Do you think cat wtichers, or witchers in general, scent mark the way real cats do? Now I'm picturing Geralt rubbing his jaw against Roach lol. Or you could do something with Jaskier discovering that wolf witchers all sleep together in piles in the winter, like puppies. Whatever you feel like. Have a good day!

VERY THIN ICE my dear 😂😅 [they had us in the first half, not gonna lie]

I hope you got into safety from your hostage situation and managed to work a bit on your fic!

My creativity is a bit all over the place right now, I'm doing lots and lots of things. I returned to journaling, did a lot of crocheting, drew a bit, wrote a bit, got into fantasy map making, consumed a lot of Gab Smolders horror Let's Plays, started learning norwegian for no reason, etc. etc. Chaotic, but I'm having fun!

Fandomwise I'm also all over the place, but maybe returning a bit to the witcher? Honestly I just love this fandom so much, that's why I keep coming back. So many talented people. ❤❤❤

I have SO MANY cutagen thoughts. So many. So, so many. Have you read my stories? You should totally (re)read my cutagen stories! My main... focus? when I think about how different schools interact with each other is to think about how each school should have different cutagens to make them unique and kind of to keep things interesting? (a cut here because this got long)

See, I've had cats for most of my life and currently we have one cat and two doggos, so I can get a bit particular about cutagens. So whilst I definitely love the thought of all witchers purring when they're happy, part of me says NO! only kitties purr! (which would include Griffins and Manticores) What do wolves do then? Dogs and wolves have this kind of happy growl that's not really a growl just a kind of noise they make that varies from dog to dog. Some have a barky-howl, a soft awuu, others whine or huff. It's a bit hard to describe if you never heard it, but if you watch enough funny dog videos you know what I'm talking about. Especially some of the more vocal wolves just growl constantly which sometimes sounds like a dangerous growl, but they just have these... gravely growly voices.

Cats playing versus dogs playing is also super interesting. Both chase each other around the house, swat and paw at each other, biting is on the table but cats will just use their paws a lot more and dogs definitely bite more. If your cats get loud while playing, 60-70% of the time that's an angry noise. Dogs are almost always loud when playing rough and they're having the time of their life.

I actually fell in love with dogs when my friend took me out to walk two of them and she let them off leash and they immediately started playing like two feral viking gods- It looked so rough, they were so loud and fast and you could see the power behind it when they tackled each other with their full body weight. Absolutely chaotic. But they were having the time of their lives. (they were very well matched strength and size wise and had known each other for years, so it was totally normal for them to play this crazy)

Okay getting off track, you did this to yourself nonny. ❤😂

My favorite wolf witcher cutagen headcanon is that they have hackles. Just- a row of really dense, thick fur that starts just above their shoulder blades and grows along their spine/neckline up and into their hair. And it first starts to grow in when the mutagens slowly settle into their genes (there's this whole eating magic mushrooms thing before the Grasses) and some of the wolves decide to shave it off (especially those that spend more time in cities - makes them appear more normal) butthe hackles actually help a lot with communication. A raised hackle means distress of some sort and depending on how high it's raised the higher the level of stress is. But it's also great for character design- A dog's hackle depends on their fur texture and length. Really short hair means a spiky little hackle, icredibly long hair means you can't really see it rising and some dogs (like my own :3) have a type of fur that makes their hackle look like a hyena/dinosaur monster. Very prominent, very obvious and easy to read. (Lambert would have one of those.) I actually drew you some fanart that I will add to this post if I remember, where you can kind of see what I mean. 👀😁

Scent marking is a dominant trait in the cat cutagens. Everything and everyone has to be marked as someone's. No argument here. I don't really know if wolves do it as much as the cats, but at least a little bit. (I do like to write it into my stories because it's the right kind of possessive behaviour *swoon*) I think from a logical standpoint the big difference would be that dogs/wolves smell very strongly when wet and that anything they use a lot (like a favorite blanket or Jaskier) equally starts smelling like wet dog when wet. Can't say I noticed that with my cats. Also wet dogs are more prone to rub themselves against you? Don't know if that's a scent thing or a "you make a great towel" thing.....

Yeah, I think I will leave it here for now 😂😂😂😂 kudos if you've come so far. If you have anything else cutagen wise that you need my opinion on let me know XD

#rambles #the witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #cutagens #witcher #ask answered #witcher headcanons

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plushieclan · 9 months

Text

Prologue part 2

TW: Injury, implied death.

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Night yawned, picking herself up from her nest. She slept beneath a Twoleg porch with her guardian, a grouchy old cat named Rime.

“Let’s get a move on before Snotlout starts bothering us.” Rime barked, referring to the kittypet that lived in the house above.

“But I wanted to sleep in!” Night whined.

“You sound like a kittypet. Come on, let’s hunt.”

As they stepped through the Twoleg place, Night had an idea. “Can we hunt on the other side of the Thunderpath today?”

Rime grunted. “Do you think you’ll find them this time?”

Night sighed. “I really hope so.”

It wasn’t always just Rime and Night. Once, she was known as Nightkit— a cat born of the clans in the wilderness beyond the Twoleg place. Night was only just a moon old when her clan was attacked, and everyone slaughtered within it. Sometimes, she wanted to go back to her old territory, but there seemed to be new residents. A clan she didn’t recognize prowled in their old hunting grounds. She was always chased off before she could make her way to their old camp.

Night knew that after all this time— half a year, as Rime called it— the likelihood of her parents still being alive was slim. Still, she held onto hope that someday, she could rejoin her family in whatever form they existed in.

“If you join those there feral cats, I won’t be coming with.” Rime said sadly. “My old bones wouldn’t be able to live there in those meadows. I won’t be able to support myself on those slim pickings.”

Night nodded. “I know, Rime. I know there isn’t a high chance of anyone in my old clan still being alive. I’ll probably stay with you until you keel over— but that’ll probably be a long time away!”

Rime swat at the young cat’s head playfully. “Stop flattering me, Night.”

They didn’t end up crossing the Thunderpath— Night figured that was for the best anyways. As much as she hoped to find her family again, she knew she’d probably be chased away again.

They spent the latter half of the day chasing away the cold by hiding under their porch. The Twoleg nests provided a lot of heat, which was needed for the chillier days. Night found herself drifting to sleep once more.

When she awoke, it was to the smell of smoke. The porch was saturated with it— the Twoleg nest must be on fire!

Night ran out from beneath the porch frantically, hacking out a lung from the smoke. She couldn’t see Rime anywhere. Where was he?!

“Rime!” she yowled, looking for any trace of the old tom. Twoleg monsters swarmed the nest, and Twolegs raced around. One spotted her, approaching.

She hissed, running away. She’d find Rime later. First, she needed to get to safety! She realized the only place that was safe would be the other side of the Thunderpath.

Taking a deep breath (before coughing up a storm), she ran across. She hasn’t properly looked both ways, but she was desperate!

She heard the sound of a deafening bellow, causing her to jump. A monster was barreling towards her!

She bolted, but it was not fast enough. She felt unimaginable pain as she flew to the side of the Thunderpath. Her eyes fluttered as she coughed weakly. Was this how it ended?

The last thing she saw before she faded into unconsciousness was a group of cats, faintly in the distance.

—

Night found herself curled up in a warm nursery, wedged between a little black cat and a large gray cat. It was a dream she had often; it was her mother and sister. She didn’t remember their faces, only their scent and the way they felt that fateful night.

As always, though she wanted to stay in the warmth, she untucked herself from the cocoon and waddled out of the nursery. She was a very big kit by this point— nearly one whole moon, and exploring was on her mind. Leafpelt was so strict, always keeping her in the nursery. Well not tonight!

She crouched down as to not be seen by the other warriors. As sneaky as possible. She made it all the way to the warriors den before someone saw her.

“Now, what are you doing?”

A white molly stood before her.

Blazestar!

Little Nightkit stammered, facing her leader.

“Um… I wanted to explore.”

Blazestar chuckled. “How very brave of you. I remember when Puddlesplash and Swanjaw were still kits. They did the same thing.”

Nightkit gasped. “Really?”

Swanjaw and Puddlesplash were Blazestar’s own children. She’d seen Swanjaw duck in to tend to his three kits, who were much bigger than her.

“They’re just like me? So I could become a great warrior someday?” Nightkit said.

Blazestar smiled at her. “Of course.”

Night wanted to savor this moment. Surrounded by the happiness and tight-knit life of her clan. However, she knew what would come next.

She heard yowling at the center of camp. Blazestar looked over. Her face was as horrified as Night remembered.

“Oh, is someone playing? I want to play to!” Nightkit yipped, waddling towards the noise.

Blazestar stopped her. “How about we play a special leader game?”

“Ooo, I want to play that instead!” she said.

Blazestar lifted her by her scruff and dropped her higher up the hill. “It’s called Grangeclan run. Run through the gap in the bushes and keep going until you reach Grangeclan camp. Whoever gets there first wins! I’ll give you a head start.”

She stammered. “But… I don’t want to run so far.”

Nightkit looked back at Blazestar when an unfamiliar cat pounced on her. Blazestar yowled, throwing them off. “Nightkit, run!”

She sprinted as fast as she could, following her leader’s commands. Fear quickened her steps. Did Blazestar know the clan would be wiped out? She wondered about it many times over.

As she ran, she cried out, “Leafpelt! Mommy! Where are you?!” But Night always knew things ended the same. Leafpelt was always gone, and she was always running.

—

“You’ve inhaled a lot of smoke, huh. And survived a monster hit— I wonder who you are, little cat.

Night slowly opened her eyes to see what looked something like a small cave. Two toms sat at the entrance— one was a gruff, black tom with a large scar on his muzzle and the other was a calico with a white back half— though neither was looking at her. She didn’t think they knew she was awake.

“What are we looking at here, Rainfeather?” The black tom asked.

“Well, she seems to be around six or seven moons, I’d reckon. It’s old enough. Besides… she was saying Starleaf’s old name. I think it’s her.” The other tom, presumably Rainfeather responded.

The black tom sighed. “After all this time… she was right. Nightkit…”

He turned, and she pretended to be asleep. She wasn’t even sure why. He padded over to where Night lay. He pressed himself next to her.

“Do you even remember me, Nightkit? You were so young when everything happened. Please, wake up. Your mother and I miss you so much.”

He was her father?

She knew that her father used to see her in the nursery every day. His name was Darkheart, she thought. She couldn’t remember his face, but if it was true… she’d be so happy.

She pretended to wake up. “Darkheart?” she said. “Are you really my father?”

He looked overjoyed. “Yes, Nightkit. It’s me. Darkheart. I’m so glad you’re awake,” He barked to Rainfeather. “Get Starleaf. Quickly!”

He turned back to her. “Are you ok? Does anything hurt?”

She thought about it. Her throat was still sore and scratchy from the fire, and she could feel a dull pain in her leg. “My throat hurts. My leg, not as much.”

“The poppy seeds are working then.” He sighed. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

A gray molly entered the den, her purple eyes shining. “Oh, Nightkit! You’re alright!”

She joined Night’s other side. Her scent was just as she remembered from that night as a kit. It was really her— Leafpelt!

“Leafpelt, mom, it’s really you!” she cried.

She nuzzled Night. “It’s Starleaf now. And your father is leader— Darkstar is his new name.”

“That means— you rebuilt the clan?” she asked.

“Yes. With help from my former kin in the Wanderers. We’ve done a good job of creating this new clan. It’s called Crystalclan. When you’re well enough, I’ll show you around.”

She felt at peace. Somehow, the impossible happened. But someone was missing.

“Where’s Ravenkit?” she asked.

Darkstar sighed. “With Starclan, now.”

Her heart dropped. It hurt, but part of her knew. She just didn’t want to accept it.

“Please focus on healing for now. We’re just so happy we got you back. Don’t worry about anything else.” Starleaf rested her muzzle on Night’s head. “I’m sure Ravenkit will visit you in your dreams.”

—

It took Night a few days to heal enough. She wasn’t perfect yet— her throat still required a lot of honey and poppy seeds to feel normal— but she could walk without pain. Starleaf had shown her around the camp.

It was a small sandstone cave, with a stream rushing through the center. On the higher side was the nursery, where a queen was currently grooming her kits’ wild fur, and the elder’s den. It was empty for now, but Starleaf said that some of the older warriors would be retiring there soon.

On the lower side, the cleric den was a large outcropping of the cave. An open section allowed for a patch of grass, where Rainfeather grew important herbs that couldn’t be found with foraging. Two extra caves acted as the recovery den where she slept and Rainfeather’s den, where he also kept his herb stocks. The warrior’s den was also on this side— a stout log dragged into the cave lined with nests. At the very center of the lower half was the crystal rock, which towered above everything else.

Darkstar was stood upon the rock. Night wondered what was going on.

She touched noses with Leopardcloud, filled with excitement. A warrior apprentice… it was something that seemed impossible just a few days ago. Nightpaw was practically bouncing. A new dawn awaited her, she just knew it!

#warrior cats #warriors #clangen #warriors oc #wc #crystalclan #nightstar #rime #darkstar #starleaf #rainfeather #blazestar #puddlesplash #junco-eyes #ploverbelly #nightstar’s clan

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the--blackdahlia · 1 year

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Hotel Key (Adam Cole x MJF; 18+)

Title: Hotel Key

Summary: Companion piece to Two of a Kind (Working on a Full House). Missing scene of what happened after they left the chapel and before they woke up the next morning.

Warnings: Smut, dub-con, drunk sex, language, daddy kink

Author's Note: I'm really sorry about this. Please be easy on me. I very rarely, if ever, write smut. So nice comments would be very welcome.

Max had Adam pressed up against the wall by their room, lips firmly on his neck, teeth scraping against sensitive skin. Adam had his eyes closed, head back, arms wrapped around Max to keep him in place. The metal of the diamond ring could be felt through the thing fabric of Max’s shirt, just reminding him what they had just done.

“We should probably go inside before someone sees,” Adam whispered, voice just dripping with need.

“Maybe I want everyone to see who you belong to,” Max purred, kissing the other side of his neck.

“You sure you want that?” Adam gasped. “Maybe Roddy will come by and want a taste.”

That’s when Max growled. He actually fucking growled and it made all the blood rush south on Adam. Between the alcohol, the euphoria of marrying Max, and now that deep, feral growl, Adam was ready to just bend over the railing and let the whole courtyard watch his husband take him.

“That generic white boy is never touching you again,” Max hissed. He managed to pull away from Adam enough to fish the key card out of his wallet. The receipt for the chapel was wrapped around it, making Max smirk as he unlocked the door and pulled Adam in. Once the door was firmly shut, separating them from the outside world, Max pushed Adam against it, earning a soft gasp from the older man.

“Max,” Adam moaned softly before Max’s lips were on his and a bruising pace.

“Mine,” Max growled. “All mine.”

“Yours,” Adam responded. Max grabbed his hand and pulled him over to one of the beds. Max sat on the edge of the bed, smirking.

“Why don’t you strip for Daddy?” Max asked. Adam huffed a little, but it was obvious by the tinting of his cheeks that he was into that. Max watched with a satisfied smile as Adam attempted to strip out of his clothes. It was less sexy and more clumsy, but Max swore that Adam was the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes on.

Before too long, Adam’s clothes were strewn about the floor. He stood there, slightly self-conscious as he stood before Max. Their bodies were total opposites of each other. At one point, Adam would’ve been just as tan and toned as Max, but that felt like many lifetimes ago.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you,” Max spoke up, drawing Adam’s attention back to the here and now. “Too bad they can’t have you though. You’re mine.”

“Yes,” Adam nodded.

“Yes?”

“Yes, I am?” Adam raised an eyebrow when Max shook his head. Adam realized what Max wanted then. “Yes, Daddy.”

“There’s a good boy,” Max smirked. “Why don’t you come help me get out of my clothes?” Max leaned back, relaxing as Adam’s nimble fingers worked to free him from his clothes. He felt calloused fingers on his skin before lips followed, kissing his chest. It was different than the rats or that ex of his. There felt to be real love behind each kiss. It wasn’t just a fuck with the hopes of getting their hands on his money.

And then he felt Adam’s mouth on his cock, and any thoughts he had about the men and women from his best flew out the door faster than Hook chasing Jack’s SUV. Max had never thought about Adam having experience with other men like he did, but then again, he had been very, very close to Matt and Nick Jackson, Bobby Fish, Kyle O’Reilly, Roderick fucking Strong…

“Fuck Adam…” Max moaned, lacing his fingers in Adam’s long hair, and pulling him farther down. He felt Adam gag a little, but it didn’t last long when Adam adjusted. “You’re doing so good baby boy.”

Adam savored the praise. He wasn’t used to it much. Most of the time, it had just been him giving and then left alone. No praise, no return, nothing. And when he found a way to get the most praise from Max, he kept doing it. Hollowing his cheeks at the right point, sucking and kissing on his balls, a light amount of teeth. He just kept going until Max pulled him off. Adam sat on the ground, looking up at him.

“Not cumming in that pretty mouth of yours,” Max told him. “Not when I can cum in your perfect ass.”

“Max, please.”

“What was that?” He asked, making Adam’s cheeks go red again.

“Daddy, please.”

“That’s a good boy,” Max smiled. “Go be a good boy and go get the lube out of my bag?” Adam nodded quickly and headed over to Max’s bags. “It’s in my toiletry bag.” Adam quickly opened it, snagged the bottle, and headed back over to Max. Max was standing then, and he pushed Adam onto the bed.

Adam was suddenly back about ten years prior when he was a cocky little shit, a brat some may say, and would gladly open his legs for his boys. Things had changed so much in his life, and while he could still be a little brat sometimes, he wasn’t the same person he was ten years ago. Max seemed to notice a shift in the energy as he got ready to lube his fingers up.

“Hey,” Max got Adam’s attention. “Where’d all the enthusiasm go? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s great,” Adam smiled. “I want to make sure you feel good.”

“But what about you?”

“Does it matter?”

Max came to a realization then. Adam wasn’t one of the rats who wanted him to be the big bad champion. This was someone who needed to feel love just as much as Max did. And it might have been the alcohol talking, but all Max wanted to do was hold him. And make him feel as good as he made Max feel.

“I’m going to take care of you, sweetheart,” Max whispered, crawling between Adam’s legs, lube in hand. He gently rubbed Adam’s thigh with one hand as he gently pushed a lubed-up finger into him, making Adam gasp softly. It had felt like too long since anyone had touched him this gently. And honestly, it had been a while since Max had been like this with anyone, with someone who didn’t want the heel to destroy them.

Max had long, thick fingers. Perfect to stretch Adam with. After a moment, Max removed the one finger and pushed in two, slowly scissoring to open Adam more. He chuckled a little as he did.

“What?” Adam asked, breathing heavily already.

“Daddy is scissoring your ass,” He laughed, making even Adam laugh.

“You did not…”

“Oh, I did,” Max moved so he could kiss Adam deeply. “Think you need one more?”

“No. I’m good. I like a little pain sometimes.”

“I just don’t want to hurt you. Be super unsexy to ruin the honeymoon because I legit rip your ass open.”

“I dunno. I think it’d be a hell of a memory,” Adam smiled up at Max. Max slowly pulled out his fingers before lubing himself up. Adam expected a bit of a stretch when Max started to push in, but he didn’t expect it to be as much as it was. It was a good burn though as Max worked on pushing all the way in.

“Fuck, baby,” Max whispered as he buried his face in Adam’s neck. “You feel so good.”

“So do you,” Adam gasped softly. Max kissed his neck, helping Adam relax. Once he felt that Adam had calmed down enough, he started to move. The only sounds in the room were their heavy breathing, and Adam’s moans growing louder as Max took him apart.

“I love you so fucking much,” Max whispered after a few moments, as he felt himself drawing closer.

“I love you too Max.” Max was so lost in the bliss of what was going on, he didn’t even make Adam call him daddy.

“I’m close,” Max told him. “I want you to cum with me.” Just that thought seemed to be enough for Adam, as he tightened around Max and came on his stomach, some splashing up onto Max. Max’s movements became more erratic as he chased his own release, cumming just seconds after Adam did.

“Fuck,” Adam breathed. Max slowly pulled out before getting up and heading to the bathroom to clean his stomach off. He returned a moment later and cleaned Adam up before climbing behind him and gathering his husband into his arms.

“I do love you Mr. Adam Friedman,” Max kissed his shoulder blade.

“I love you too Max,” Adam yawned. Before too long, the newlyweds fell asleep, Max holding onto Adam as they slept.

Both were unaware that come morning light, neither would really remember the night before.

#adam cole #mjf #fanfiction #aew #maxwell jacob friedman #better than you bay bay

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whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst · 1 year

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Manifesto for Season 2 of Oh No! Here Comes Trouble: Five possible future events via headcanons

And by manifesto I mean I’m manifesting it asap

1.) Guangyan the feral housecat. I read his character as the kind of fussy housecat that slaps its human/fellow animals on a regular basis but refuses to step on wet grass or eat generic cat food.

Post season 1, I also headcanon that housecat energy as developing into a slightly more feral version. We’ve discussed Chuying and Guangyan would likely be more protective of Yiyong and I’m wondering what that would look like in the show.

Honestly, the mental picture that came up was those viral videos people take where there’s a bear outside their house, trying to go through the bins, only to be chased off by the family’s sassy calico who genuinely believes a cat is as much of a baddie as a bear, if not more. That is the Guangyan I imagine post-evil baker guy. On his own, he’s still timid and polite, but we have seen he’s gone from yelling insults at Yiyong to trying to protect his feelings and soothe him, so I’m curious whether he’d become physically protective too—often it’s the quietest ones who are the most ferocious when loved ones are threatened. And whatever the nature of their bond, there was no question for me in that last episode that Guangyan has come to love Yiyong. Plus, there is nothing as territorial and petty as a housecat, which fits Guangyan beautifully.

2.) Chuying as a detective. OnePer but promoted. We already see the change she’s undergone in terms of empathy, and I think this process would keep evolving. Think about Chuying when we first meet her; there is a visibly injured guy trying to make a statement—something big and important—and she is daydreaming about being more important in her role as a cop.

Now fast forward to the end of the first season. Chuying has gotten her excitement, her promotion, the danger and duty to help, and it isn't the dream she figured. Because she has finally learned to empathize and care for people who she’s meant to be protecting, and because she can’t protect one of the people she’s come to care about—Yiyong. I see her becoming more responsible, more focused on the job and not the praise. Because it’s like Sneaky McBaker points out—she probably did get a commendation for taking him down and doing her best to help a victim. But that is worth absolutely nothing anymore.

3.) Yiyong the passionate calligrapher. Because honestly? He’s had his injury and coma visions, and he knows he is helping people. It’s the opposite of what everyone always told him he’ll end up doing, it’s something that brings in zero cash so far (I just know Guangyan and Chuying are out there adding to a private account to help Yiyong’s mom and help him get back on his feet or just not work until he wants to).

I think Yiyong, who started off so reluctant, will be more driven to get back into the ghostie business before his friends want him to. It’s not just a return to normal after MORE lost years, it’s a purpose. He’s missed so many moments, and despite his mom’s comforting words that the years don’t count, he can pick up where he left off, I think he’ll be feeling behind, maybe worried his detective and student friends are spending too much time helping him and not enough time on their own lives.

4.) I hope we will get more backstory on minor characters. Ye Baosheng is one of the best characters in this story, and we know so little about her. I want her to have more scenes, I want her to feel involved in her son’s life. Like Melissa McCall for her son Scott in Teen Wolf, except for the whole thing where Scott's character gets increasingly sidelined. I appreciate so much that Chuying and Guangyan have clearly become an extra daughter and a son in law. I hope she starts her own salon. I think she’ll be very much the same person as she was after the first coma, not because she’s fine but because she needs Yiyong to think she’s fine. The show does an amazing job of showing without telling that this is a mother trying to be as strong and normal as she can for her baby.

5.) Guangyan and Yiyong. Listen, I know they aren’t canon, I know it’s a bromance, SO FAR. Here are my thoughts on this: too many shows try to speedrun the enemies to lovers plot at the cost of story, character development, and basic common sense. ONHCT has shown it’s willing to play the long game on things before. To me, it could easily be a natural progression. Here’s how I see it playing out: after Yiyong wakes up, he’s trying to get back into cases, but he starts drawing his comic again, too. One of his high school friends “accidentally” mentions to him that Guangyan is the only real fan of that comic, and reminisces about “back when we used to come visit and your weird nerd friend would be curled up next to your bed talking to you.” I want Yiyong to be simultaneously smug and scared shitless, and Guangyan considering maybe living at the morgue forever.

(After they kiss at the bus stop for the first time, Chuying, who wasn't spying, texts the family and friends group chat to let everyone know Granny Zeng Jiang has won the betting pool for when/where it would happen).

#whomst #oh no! here comes trouble #yiyong x guangyan

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bracketsoffear · 11 months

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The Narrator (Fruiting Bodies by RIP) CW for the music video: flashing lights, eyestrain, descriptions of body horror, mushrooms.

"The song 'Fruiting Bodies' basically describes the creation of a Corruption avatar, focusing on rot and decay rather than sickness. The opening lines get this across almost immediately:

"Oh, lately I’ve been awaking at night, out of breath and feeling scared I think I must be under attack, but nothing’s ever there Oh, I try to be the best version of me, so I push all the bad thoughts away" But, something snaps in the back of my mind, and I think about it anyway

She is kept awake at night by voices that she cannot discern the location of, and thoughts and feelings that are not hers. She describes it as an itch she wants so desperately to scratch, and people begin to get worried about her.

"A little fruiting body buds under my skin A trauma to the system’s all it needs to begin No, don’t come any closer! It’s a trick-trick-trick And it terrifies me morе than I intend to admit"

Mushrooms begin to grow under her skin, slowly sprouting the longer she survives. She describes her body as "rotting", and seems to give in to the corruption the longer the song goes on.

"The voices tell me something is hiding underneath the ground I repress my fright, and I cover my eyes and surrender myself to my fate The ones like me weren’t built to last…"

She starts to feel that she's not in the body she should be, that maybe the mushrooms are the answer to this dysphoria and she should begin to accept them. The next time she finds mushrooms, she describes them as "a tiny opportunity", and that she is now no longer able to cry.

"They’re coming after me, I can’t run away They hear me screaming in fear, they think it’s hilarious We’re coming after you, you can’t run away We hear you screaming in fear, isn’t it hilarious?"

The change in perspective during this verse comes from her own voice, and things begin to fully change. She's gaining memories she can't place, falling apart more and more to the corruption, and is fighting less and less.

"And a thousand fruiting bodies are spreading their pores It’s impossible to tell which ones are real anymore My organs and the colony will mix-mix-mix Now my body is the keeper of the roots in my core"

The entire song reads as a statement about the birth of a Corruption Avatar, one that slowly accepts her fate as the end of the song gets faster and faster."

Fur Beetles (The House) "A contractor (who happens to be a rat) throws his whole life and savings and loans into flipping a house hoping to earn himself a good life doing so, only to find out it's infested with a type of bug called a fur beetle, and their hairy, worm-like larva. He tries desperately to get them out and exterminate them so that he can sell this house, to no avail. Eventually, when he tries to show the house, two oddly bug-shaped rats show up and refuse to leave, obsessed with mold and chewing on fabric. And, eventually, they invite their whole giant family over as well. As he's despairing over this situation, fur beetles come out from his walls and ceiling, putting on a whole little song and dance number for him, just to taunt him.

He tries to chase them all out of his house with bug spray, only to make himself ill and sent to the hospital. The strange rats kindly pick him up and bring him home, where they and the rest of their family are throwing him a Welcome Home party, revealing that they're all strange beetle-rat hybrids, and they're not going anywhere. Soon, the house becomes a compete trashed pigsty, the beetle-rats devouring all the furniture, burrowing in the walls, and covering it all in filth. The contractor, still trapped there, loses it and seems to revert into a feral, animalistic rat, eating garbage and scurrying around in the house the beetles infested."

#corruption poll #the corruption #the magnus archives #poll #redemption bracket #fruiting bodies #rip #the house

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charliemwrites · 9 months

Note

I never pass up an opportunity to show off my two stinkers. This is Rowdy. He’s just a little man. His only passion in life is getting comfy and eating corn on the cob. I taught him how to sit and shake hands in one evening because he’s so easily food motivated but it back fired because now anytime he see you with any food in your hands he’ll come sit right in front of you and keep raising his paw to shake higher and higher the longer you don’t let him have the thing. 10/10 the most innocent being to ever live. We’re convinced he only understands Swedish. Everyone who sees him always says he’s so handsome and elegant looking but he’s actually composed of 90% just weird gurgly noises and he will walk right up to you and sneeze in your face…

And this is Ridley. She’s a rat. Got her from West Virginia. Former street cat turned professional housecat bully. Her favorite activities include chasing Rowdy into a corner and then rolly pollying in front of his cowering frame to taunt him, and walking around the house with her little green mouse while yelling at the top of her lungs. She’s half the size of Rowdy and has remained kitten sized her whole life to the point where, combined with her sewer rat tendencies, makes us think the people at the shelter may have duped us into taking home vermin. A real Stuart little situation going on. Has mastered the look of judgement. (Also was a pregnant mom cat when they trapped her so please enjoy this photo of her with her babies)

Bonus cat: Biscuit. She’s the feral cat in our new house who’s in love with Rowdy and will not leave our back deck. Stares into our house 24/7 and leaves the glass all smuggled from pressing her noses up against it every time she sees Rowdy. Refuses to come inside the house. Just wants to sit on the deck and look longing into the house. Has been seen sitting side by side with the raccoons who live under our deck. An old lady who I want to put into a nice cat retirement community (aka our home lol)

Excuse me I adore them!!! Rowdy is indeed very handsome and distinguished. He would look so good in a lil bow tie. I’m sobbing at that picture of him in a sweater.

And Ridley’s eyes!!! Absolutely gorgeous. She’s like a rude little dumpling! Her pink collar is also everything to me, matches her fur perfectly.

And poor biscuit. She’s just a girl in love!!! And she’s so little and sad looking?? Agh my heart, I can’t take it!!

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tyrannosaurus-trainwreck · 1 year

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Spooky season

So, I live in an old house that was, when I moved in, adjacent to an overgrown feral lot that had been seized by the state as derelict and then... kept that way. The previous owner’s solution to the state’s once-a-year maintenance schedule was to build a cinderblock wall along that edge of the property as tall as the building code would let it be.

It solved the problem, but it also means that entire side of my house is basically god’s blind spot. You can’t see it from any of the neighbors’ properties, and you can’t see it from much of my property, either.

This was never much of an issue, until I was sitting home alone one night watching a movie and I suddenly heard something scratching at one of the windows on that side of the house. Not light ‘scritch-scritch’ scratching, either—something was putting some weight behind those nails. I just about jumped out of my skin. I threw open the curtains—nothing. Check out the curtains at the other windows. Same deal—nothing.

It was late and very dark out, and I generally speaking don’t want to get axe-murdered, so I convinced myself it was just a reeeeeeeally big moth attracted to the light and tried to forget about it. The next morning there was nothing out of place or unusual on the side of the house, supporting the ‘forget about it’ plan of action.

Which is what I did for about a week, until it happened again. This time it was louder, lasted longer, and definitely was not a fucking moth. This time I also played it a little smarter and went to a different window and peeked out of the curtains from a better angle on the sly, which made it more unsettling that there was still absolutely goddamned nothing to be seen.

It wasn’t quite full dark this time, so I turned the outside lights on, grabbed one of those five-pound tactical flashlights, and ventured around the side of the house.

Nothing.

No tracks, no prints, nothing’s been disturbed except me. I didn’t hear anything aside from the scratching either time. I walk all the way around the house and back to the front door. Nothing.

Maybe, I tell myself, it’s a bird. Maybe it’s getting to be nesting season and some feathered asshole is just attacking everything it can see its reflection in.

A couple days after that, it’s the weekend. I don’t have to be up for work in the morning, so it’s almost midnight and I’m still awake, reading a book. It happens again. Louder, more frantic scratching. Right fucking behind me.

On the glass fucking door.

Around the minor inconvenience of having a fucking heart attack, because it’s late and something is clawing at the least secure feature a house can have two feet from my back, at this point I was quite frankly fucking done with the whole thing. I whip the blinds open and... nothing. Then I look down.

The smallest adult cat I have ever seen is sitting on its haunches, shoulders barely clearing the stop of the step, paws braced against the glass, glaring daggers at my indoor cat, who very clearly considers this my problem and not hers.

I smack the door, hard, and the cat takes off.

The little fucker kept this shit up for the rest of the goddamned month. I have no idea what sort of beef it decided it had with my cats, who aren’t allowed outside and never have been. Whatever it was, it resulted in me getting jump-scared at least once a week and having to go outside and physically chase the cat off to make it stop scratching at the window like some pint-sized feline Freddy Krueger on three separate occasions.

So this is my annual autumnal PSA: Keep your fucking cats indoors, you goddamned heathens. The rest of us don't need to put up with their WWE Smackdown bullshit while we're just trying to live our lives.

#to this day i have no clue what that cat's problem was #but i very much did not need that scratch-scratch-scratching happening during a rewatch of The Ring

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blubushie · 1 year

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RANT/NSFT/SOME TRAUMA-DUMPING INCOMING

Sometimes I think about how I could just suddenly decide to make this a Sniper roleplay blog one day and not tell anyone and no one would notice because nothing would change.

"Yeah nah I'm out in New Mexico for a job–" I've already been to New Mexico for work. Expected.

"This month's target is–" Sometimes I do have specific targets. Sometimes I take bounties. Massive razorback that's already gored 2 sheep to death and wounded a third? Gonna pay me $500 to kill him? I'm on it. I'll bring the bastard's hide back in two days.

"Dad's yelling at me about my job again. Mum's begging me to come home. I've always been an other in my own country. I've never fit in. My own country doesn't want me." All me, baby.

There'd be no difference.

And sometimes people forget that this is my life. That I'm not a roleplay blog. Sometimes people kinda romanticise the whole bushman thing. They only see the upsides and don't see the downsides. I've been involved with some rough crowds. I'm damaged as a human being. I've done some bad things to survive. I'd done bad things because I wanted to. I've lost my head a few times too many. I've almost lost my life a few times more.

How do I look into my father's eyes and expect him not to see the person I've become? How do I hold my mother's hands and expect her not to see the blood on mine?

What people think my life is like—maybe that's my fault. Maybe I talk too much about the fun bits. Maybe I preach too highly of the stars, or the sunrises and sunsets, or the summer storms, or the beaches, or my encounters with the wildlife. Maybe I don't talk enough about how terrifying Australia can be. What it's like to wake up to the smell of smoke and be forced to outpace a bushfire with a smoking engine and a terrified, screaming dog next to you. How I'll wake up in the middle of the night to thunder in the Outback and I'll get Misty and leave because I'm not going to be caught in another tornado. How I've had my windscreen shattered with hail the size of billiard balls. How I've been chased up trees by angry pigs. How I've been caught in floods. What it's like to feel the moisture evaporate off your tongue as you die of dehydration. How I've been so thirsty I've drank my own urine. How I've been so hungry I've eaten dog kibble.

I can't read social situations. I'm autistic, so that's always been difficult, but I've lived in the bush since I was 19. I have spent most of my adult life without human contact. I've tailored myself to Australia's wildlife and that makes me act strange sometimes.

I piss in jars so I can pour them out near my camps to keep dingos away. I think I could take a dingo, but I'm not going to risk the safety of my dog.

I have a tendency to stare because when you stare at dingos and keep eye contact it's a territorial challenge. Stand your ground and they won't attack you. I find myself doing this to people that are no threat to me. It's the clerk at the servo, an old man at the shops, the lady across the street. I've been told it's creepy, and I can't help it.

I've forgotten how to act around people. I've built up this façade all my life to mask the autism because it's ostracised me, so I can appear more "normal," and it's funny how 15 years of masking can be thrown out the window by 3 years alone. Combine that with gradually going more and more feral over the past 3 years and is it any wonder why I can't hold conversations?

I don't smile with teeth because showing teeth to a predator is a challenge. I wake up at every little thing that goes bump in the night. In a house—a house, it's been years since I've lived in a building—sleeping out on the porch is the only way I can sleep. It works until someone drives past the street and I hear tyres and then I'm awake, and it's another half hour until my heart calms down enough to sleep again. I can slow my heartrate by force to get a good shot, but it doesn't work for waking up in a panic because I can't hold my breath long enough to make it work.

I have to sleep with a knife. Usually it's one. If I've had a rough day it becomes two or more.

There's things you see in the bush that change who you are as a person. Things you can't unsee. It's not all peaceful campfires and stargazing and pretty sunrises. There's things that are out there that people know are out there but no one talks about. That other people would call you crazy for saying you saw. Sometimes you'll meet an old blackfella in an Outback town who'll talk to you about it. Most won't, but every now and then there's one that will. It's no consolation. He'll just give you a name, something muttered under his breath that you probably don't catch and definitely can't pronounce, and he'll clap you on the back and tell you that it happens, and if he really likes you he'll give you a tinny and offer to shine your boots "to get the bush off." He'll act like he understands but then he'll turn to the bloke beside him, the one who's just listened in silence the whole time, and say "He's crazy" in words he doesn't know you understand.

Chihuahuas are popular in California. They sound like dingos, and I can't take my dog to the dog park.

I can't sleep. I wake up in cold sweats like I've been running a marathon. I dream of eyes watching me from the darkness, always the same dream. They get closer and I'm trying to keep some pitiful little fire going but it always goes out. I grab my torch, and the battery dies. I hear howls. I wake up. My dad's neighbour has huskies and they let the dogs out every morning at 5:30 on the nose and I can't sleep.

I don't know how to be intimate with people. My clothes stay on. My hat stays on. My sunnies stay on. I treat it like a job. I do my part, and I leave. I've never pursued someone. I've never approached someone first. I don't know what people see in me. I've never let someone kiss me, but I dream about it.

I can't sleep unless I have my back to something. I always have to face the door, see the door, when I'm in a building. I'm left-handed, so my left hand is always empty. I carry four knives on me at all times, or five if I'm in the bush and you count a machete.

Touch was never an issue with me before. Now it is. What few mates I have know not to stand behind me. I have to be approached like a horse--don't approach me from behind and if you do, make sure I know you're there.

I don't show emotion. I express it through touch—hands, or arms, or shoulders. I communicate love like I do with my dog, my best friend and my only companion. I feed her. I provide for her. I pat her head, I pat her back, I run my fingers through her fur, I share my meals with her. I hope she knows I love her. Matilda is my home, and I tend to her carefully. I wash her windows. I keep her petrol tank topped off. I keep her clean and tidy. I fix her flats myself, I never curse her when something goes wrong, I keep her parked in the shade when I can so her engine doesn't overheat. I hope she knows I love her. My rifle is my lifeline, and without her I am useless. I clean her every night, even if I don't use her. I buff out her scratches with a gentle hand, I handload the ammo she fires, I polish her walnut stock. I've memorised her serial number. I know her better than I know myself. She knows me better than I know myself. She's seen me at my worst and at my best. I hope she knows I love her.

I hit a low point last year. I saw a therapist in Melbourne for three weeks. I hate the cities. She wouldn't call me Blu. She called me by my legal name. Strike one. She asked me too many questions about my job, about where I go and what I do. "You said you live out in the bush. It's the 21st century. What are you doing out there that makes you flinch when a car backfires? That makes you so untrusting of people?" Strike two. "You have PTSD symptoms on par with a veteran who's seen combat," she said. "I want to refer you to a doctor who can get you on medication for your anxiety." I've been put on it before. I asked if it'd make my hands shake. I can't shoot with shaking hands. "Living in the bush isn't any way to live. You should sell your guns-" I hate that term, guns. She's a rifle. "-And move somewhere permanent. You should reacquaint yourself with society." Strike three. I never went back.

I can't communicate well through words. People forget that, or maybe they aren't aware to begin with. I'm a good listener, I've been told, but don't expect an articulate response.

Too many people think that trauma is just "something bad that happened to me." Bad things happen to everyone. Most people don't have any kind of trauma. Most people do not have PTSD.

It's one of those things that really bother me. It's usually just edgy teenagers going "oh I'm so traumatised" or just people on social media proclaiming their trauma when it's just "bad thing happened" and not actually trauma. It's been downplayed to a detrimental degree, to a point where any bad thing that happened is now trauma and so nothing is. This also applies to things like intrusive thoughts. I have intrusive thoughts. They're not random impulses like you hear people talking about on TikTok—they're obsessive, disturbing thoughts that you can't stop thinking about. That's what makes them intrusive. Oftentimes they include violence toward yourself or others. Sticking your hair in a bowl of pasta is a random impulse—it isn't an intrusive thought. Seeing someone walking down the street and picturing their dead body is.

One thing about actually having trauma is that you become really good at picking up when people actually have trauma or when they're just saying shit to be edgy and get a reaction out of you. Here's the tip: if they're constantly bringing up their trauma, fair chance they're lying. The thing about trauma is that it's traumatic. It's traumatic to remember, it's traumatic to think about, and you don't want to talk about it. You might bottle it up so much that you end up screaming into the void like I'm doing, or if you really feel safe with someone you might be willing to discuss it, but you don't talk about it unless it's really eating at you. You don't bring it up out of nowhere all the time to remind people of how traumatised you supposedly are. That's attention-seeking, edgy behaviour.

I had a mate dump some pretty heavy stuff on me without warning a few days ago, about some violent thoughts they said they have. That's another tipoff: people who actually have violent thoughts are ashamed of them. They don't talk about them unless very prompted, they don't bring them up out of the blue. I'd only been talking to this person for a month. They were the edgy type, but they're overall kind. I was edgy as a teenager too. I was hurting and I wanted someone to listen. I understand where they came from. I grew out of it, but I understand.

That said, I've got my own stuff going on in my life. Stuff that's happened to me that I don't talk about. Stuff I've done that I don't talk about. I've got my own secrets that I'll take to my grave. I don't have the mental capacity to really handle more. Sure, I can take some venting. I can even take some trauma dumping if you warn me first and don't blindside me with it. If I know someone well enough I can make the effort and try to figure out how to smooth things over, but most of the time I'm at a loss. I am not the person to come to for an emotionally compromising conversation. I am not a therapist.

I told them this and they laid into me. "Can't I tell my friend how I feel? I'm not a therapist either but I listen to people I care about." I reiterated that it's a discussion for a therapist and I'm not one. I was uncomfortable with this conversation. I told them I'm not good at handling emotional stuff. Their response?

"My advice? Fix that. No one will stick around with someone who can't even pretend to care. It took me a long time to learn but I did. I help even when I'm at my lowest. I listen and I care, or I pretend to." I've pretended my whole life. I'm tired of pretending. It's exhausting. "Whatever, you can't help people who don't want help."

People wonder why I don't open up, why I'm stone cold, and that's why. Because when you open up, people will use that shit against you. My job's taught me to be ruthless. I must fire true. I must shoot straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will.

And sometimes there's a crack in that façade I've made. Sometimes the soft parts seep through like the solder in a bad weld. Sometimes it drips through my fingers, or my mouth, or my eyes. The difference is that in my line of work it's not something I can let people see. It's a weakness I can't afford to have. But I think the desire for companionship is human. To desire to be intimate, to form friendships, is to be human. My hands were made for holding more than rifles and cartridges. I have more of a purpose in this world than being an equaliser. I'm more than the weapon I've made myself to be.

But then I hear things like that. I hear the parting words of a mate I've lost—"With this attitude you will go on being alone in the bush"—and I wonder if I've already stopped being a person. If I've just solidified the other I've always felt I've been.

I think I lost my humanity a long time ago.

#blus blues

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