#i need to remember where i left off on stoked

[queeniecamps]

Daniel in the lifeguard au is basically Andrew Baumer from Stoked but in a different font, no joke

[swifty-fox]

my kingdom for a kiss outtakes

somewhere around the james arc i decided to save anything I deleted so here's some stuff that didn't make the cut into the final draft! (including a more corny ending)

Gale muffles another noise into his flesh, bites down hard enough he feels the bones of his wrist shift against eachother. The pain stokes him hotter, shatters his gentle fantasy for good. He was no woman, no pretty thing for John to make a home with. He’d killed men and commanded them to their deaths. He was broad and mascluline even in his soft features. He dealt in death and flew in the skies where no human ever belonged regardless of what was between their legs. He’d had other mens blood in his mouth, knew what rotting corpses smelled like. He was a soldier, all softness trained out of him in the service of god and country. A weapon, a missile, unthinking and unfeeling.

There was no love-making in his world, if John were ever to have him it would be like this. On his knees and mounted, hands heavy in his hipbone drawing him back into the press of John’s body. 

-

“I love you.” he whispers into the shameful folds of the sweatshirt. Inhales deep and brushes a thumb over the blushed head of his cock, hips twitching and breath hitching.

“I love you.” Gale spills into his hand, mouth open and wet and dampening the gray fabric as he crashes his way through his stolen orgasm.

-

“And you don’t have to tell me you love me back, not after-” John seems to chew on his words for a moment, “after everything I’ve put you through, after all I have to make up for.” 

There’s something young and vulnerable in John’s eyes, his voice and Gale is suddenly wildly angry. Not the untamable rage of his father or the forest, but a more icy sort of wrath. His own brand of fury that had carried him through missions and imprisonment and escape. Angry for John, protective of him and the ways the war had spit him out with untreated wounds. They hadn’t senf him home in a pine box like John Sr. feared, but parts of him were dead and needing buried all the same.

“You don’t have to make up for what they did. You own no part of those motherless fuckin’ Krauts’ sins.” 

John’s chin wobbles and he looks off to the side, clearing his throat and going to shove his hands in his pockets before appearing to remember he was still without.

“Is this the first time you’ve spoken of it?” Gale asks quietly.

Words tight and quick, John opts to rub the tops of his thighs instead, “Yes.” 

He should tell him. He should bare all the ugly bits himself the way he’d done to Marge over the phone. Tell him about how scared he is and the way he almost begged if he didn’t fear it would get back to his men and shake their confidence; if they would have any in him left if they learned what happened. How he thought to imagine John for the briefest moment before shoving him so far from his mind and that room that they may as well have ended up in separate universes. He opens his mouth.

Closes it. 

Opens it again, “I don’t think less of you.” 

John’s shoulders tense up around his ears and then slump as if a great weight has been cut from them. 

-

“What was your mother like?”

Gale lets the petal drop,“Is that what we’re talking about tonight? Mothers?” your mother has held me and comforted me like one of her own. Your mother brushed the hair from my forehead and the tears from my cheeks as she might a child. She didn’t have to do that. 

“You never talk about her. You talk about your old man, bastard that he is, but I’d say you sprung fully formed for all you mention a mother.” 

Suddenly regretting not indulging in a third cigarette, Gale grunts

“My Ma,” John laughs, “I almost think she’d be okay with all this. She likes you that much.”

Gale’s stomach lurching, “You can’t John. That’s not- this is the life. This is all it is. If it’s not enough you should decide that now.

-

The couch isn’t the most comfortable, but Gale doubts he’ll ever struggle again to sleep on a clean non lice-ridden surface. It’s nightmares that interrupt his sleep, throwing him straight from pale blue skies and a farmers rope around his throat into violent wakefullness. He’s silent with it, he knows, jaw clenched so tight it aches, but he’s sweating and breathing like he’s just sprinted a mile in full gear. There’s low voices coming from the kitchen, one deeper and masculine the other softer and quicker, and the faint smell of coffee. John’s parents, come to play out a thirty year old routine, it seemed. A house full of soldiers, a house full of ghosts. He thinks Ma Egan might be the strongest out of any of them.

Their words are too quiet for him to make out, but there’s a comforting warm quality to their cadence. Gale rolls to face the back of the sofa, face pressed to the clean smelling fabric and lets it soothe him back into sleep, the sound of their conversation soothing something shy and needy in his chest. 

 -

Joh- Bucky?” 

John’s head snaps up to look at his father standing in the doorway, shoulders deliberatly relaxing in an affectation of ease. 

“Need some help out in the shed, if you’re finished eating.” 

There was a cautious air between the two men, but no hostility radiating from John so when he hesitates Gale knocks his knee quietly against John’s own to spur him into movement. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m done,” He drains the last of his coffee, steals a strip of bacon from Gale’s plate with a wink and follows his father out of the room. From behind, only the larger amount of grey in John Egan Sr.’s hair marks them apart. 

“More coffee, Gale?” 

He holds his mug out eagerly for more to cut the sick-sweet taste, watching thne drink swirl darker, “Thank you.” 

She sets the percolator back on the stove, polishes at a spot-free section of the counter with her apron, “I imagine your fiance is upset to have you traveling again so soon.” 

“Marge likes her privacy,” he smiles to himself faintly, “And we’re only going to be a few days.”

The last half of his statement is a careful open door, and Ma Egan takes it.

“I do hope she won’t mind a permanent guest. Most newlyweds prefer to enjoy their new home alone.” 

Gale sips his coffee, feeling a bit like he’s flying through a flak field, “John and her are good friends,” Not really a lie in the long term, “And it’s pretty rural out there, she probably will feel better with an extra presence around the farm.”

“A farm,” Ma murmurs in suburban shock.

“I’ll take care of him,” Gale promises her, “I’ve been taking care of him for five years now.” 

This doesn’t seem to please her as much as he expects and she frowns at him with something close to grief, though it doesn’t seem directed entirely at him. She sits with it for a few moments before carefully smoothing her face out into something more lovingly exasperated. A woman who’d send her husband and son both off to war and knew how to wear that pain quietly. 

“I hope Marge has a few single friends, at least then,” She sighs, “I think he’s turns his nose up at every girl in our Church at this point.”

“A few,” He says, mouth dry.

-

“He’s far too grown for me to cling to him,” Ma Egan says, voice wobbling, “But then, I did lose a few years.” 

-

He’s asked John, loud bombastic life of the part John Egan, to live a quiet life with him. 

Gale cups his hands around his mouth.

“I Love John Egan!” 

A bellow, full bodied and from his chest. He shouts it to the curvature of the world, to the clouds and the blue-blue sky.

It’s not the first time he’s said it, not by a longshot. But John beams like it is each and every time.

 Beside him John laughs in shocked delight, lips parted and cheeks flushed. He fights with Bugs for a second, still unpracticed and Gale takes pity on time, drawing the white gelding astride his own mare by the reins. He kisses John, saddle creaking as he leans over. John presses their foreheads together briefly and then turns, whooping in delight, the sound echoing over the mountains of Wyoming.

After a moment, laughter on his cheeks, Gale howls along with him.

[turtletaubwrites]

I Saw You First (Part 1) ~ Part 6.5

Got this request over on Ao3 and I'm stoked to share. I hope you enjoy it!

This mini fic can be read on it's own, or read after part 6 of We've All Got Needs, linked below.

Pairings: Sanji x Fem!Reader, Zoro x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1451

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: You have a casual arrangement with Zoro, but he isn't happy that you'll be seeing Sanji tonight. He tries to get his mind off of things, but overhears you enjoying your time with the cook. Can he control his anger?

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Fem!Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Reader-Insert, Smut, Angst, Anger, Mild Blood and Violence Mentioned, Voyeurism, Casual Sex, Masturbation, Penis in Vagina Sex, Pet Names, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Crewmates with Benefits

A/N: I hope you enjoy Zoro's version of the night! This was a lot of fun to write 😊

Zoro’s jaw was clenching so hard, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to eat. Knowing who’d cooked his dinner, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

It’s fine. It’s casual. 

But then you walked into the galley with your hair still damp, and Zoro’s stomach twisted. 

You took a shower for him. 

Zoro was a hundred percent sure that the perv cook was going to take you up on your offer. To start fucking you, casually, just like he was. 

Not like me. He’s pathetic. You won’t want to go back to him after tonight. 

That thought wasn’t as reassuring as he’d like it to be when Zoro left you alone in the kitchen with him. He couldn’t look back, he knew if he saw Sanji’s smug face he’d turn right back around to punch it in.

It’s fine. It’s casual. It doesn't mean anything. 

And I’ll make you forget him tomorrow. I’ll fuck you through the fucking wall tomorrow, so hard you won’t be able to remember the cook’s fancy hands all over you. 

Zoro couldn’t relax. He couldn’t sleep, which was driving him crazy. He could usually fall asleep anywhere, whenever he wanted. 

He started working out. Counting pushups and situps, but he kept losing track of the count when he thought of you in the kitchen with your clean skin, and Sanji’s annoying, punchable mouth. 

“Fuck.”

He managed not to shout his frustration. 

Wishing he had some fucking booze to wash down this feeling with, he thought about trying to steal some from the kitchen. 

But you’re probably still in there. 

He felt sick at the thought that he’d have to go eat there in the morning, knowing you’d let him fuck you there. Wondering if that piece of shit cook had fucked you on the floor, or the table, or on the bench where he sits. 

Zoro slammed his fists onto his thighs, so fucking hard. He was glad he’d kept them on himself and not the walls. Usopp would have flipped out if he harmed the Merry again. 

It’s just casual. It doesn’t mean anything. You’re not with him. You’re not with me.  

He tried to focus on his breathing, focus on his body. Sweat was still beading on his skin from working out, and it trickled down his face to leave salt on his dry lips. 

Why is this pissing me off so much? It doesn’t mean anything. We’re just fucking.

The image of you in the shower a week ago burned in his mind. He’d never have tried anything, or asked before then. You were his crewmate. 

But seeing you naked, your skin flushed from the heat. He couldn’t stop himself from asking.

And you said yes. You let him fuck you against the wall, took his cock so deep. You were begging him for it. 

Zoro shook the memory away as he felt himself getting hard.

It’s just sex. It’s just really fucking good sex.

He fought his mind, trying to understand why he couldn’t get a grip on himself. Why it was pissing him off so much.

I saw you first.

He knew that must be why this was getting to him. It’s just that fucking waiter. Always trying to butt in, always trying to take credit. 

He joined the crew, and tried to get between me and my captain, acting like he’s the first mate. And now he found out about you, and he had to weasel his way in. Get his disgusting hands all over what’s mine. 

Zoro was pacing in the small room, anger building. 

I’m gonna show you. He won’t be enough for you. I know what you need. You take me so well, you take everything I give you. No way he can make you feel that way.

He had to stop pacing as his eyes went unfocused. The look on your face when he’d take you over the top. Your eyes dilated, sometimes crossing, as your mouth hung open. 

He can’t get you that fucked. He can’t make you beg, make you drip all the way down your thighs from how rough he takes you. 

Zoro slid to the floor, pulling himself out, and moaning as he grabbed his swollen cock.

You’re too fucking wrecked, like I am. You want what only I can give you. So fucking needy for my cock.

His head fell back to the wall as he remembered all the positions he’d forced you into in this little room. How your screams sounded when he shoved his clothes in your mouth. How you’d tell him it was too much, but then keep taking his cock like you were fucking built for it. 

Zoro came, grabbing a shirt off the ground to catch his mess. 

Probably the one he had shoved in her mouth the other day. 

That thought made him groan louder as he finished, and he sat there slumped. 

The relief didn’t last long. In fact, he felt even more anger bubbling at the image of you doing all those things with that idiot, right now. When you should have been here with him.

“Fuck.”

Zoro knew he’d go insane if he stayed in his quarters for another second, so he headed out the door. He tried not to look at any doors in the hallway until he made it outside. 

Running on deck was all he could think to do, and it was better than nothing. Except for every time he’d pass the crow’s nest, and remember how you begged for his cock up there last night.

Growling, Zoro ran faster. He could have run all night. 

But that fucker’s gonna come out to have a smoke when he’s done, isn’t he? 

The thought made his blood boil, and Zoro knew himself enough to head inside.

If I see his smug fucking face tonight, I’ll kick his ass.

And you wouldn’t like that. 

He breathed, leaning against the railing as his heart rate slowed. Zoro tried not to drive himself crazy over the fact that it had been so long since he left you in the kitchen. 

Are you still in there? No way that pervert could have lasted this long. I bet you’re already helping yourself by now. 

Zoro tried to keep his eyes on the floor when he made it inside. But then he heard you. He couldn’t walk away when he heard you moaning.

He stood trapped for a moment, fighting himself not to charge in with his swords out, trying to convince himself to leave. 

Zoro couldn’t leave. Instead, he moved closer to the door, listening.

He’s not enough for you. I’ll show you what you need.

He could hear you whining now, knowing exactly how your face looks when you make that sound. 

“You’re so perfect for me, angel. Fuck, I knew your pussy could take me. It’s everything I needed, sweetheart.”

Sanji’s voice was so soft, so fucking nice. 

That’s not what you need. 

“You’re doing so well. Oh, I’m gonna take such good care of you, you and your perfect pussy. Come for me again, I know you can.” 

Sanji kept showering you with praise, and if not for the whines and moans Zoro heard, he could have convinced himself you were bored. He tried. 

“Fuck yes, ooh beautiful do you feel me? Let go now, love. Come for me, angel. Just like tha- fuuuck…”

The sounds of both of you coming sent Zoro reeling, his nails digging into his palms, drawing blood as he shook with rage. He couldn't form any coherent thoughts now, no excuses, no reasons. Just holding himself back like a rabid animal. 

All he felt was pure need. 

The need to shove that cook aside, and show him how you really need to be fucked. 

Zoro was frozen. He could hear you inside, your voices soft, his voice so fucking gentle. 

He heard you giggling, fucking giggling, as Sanji offered to make you things, to run a bath, to carry you. 

Like a fucking princess.

Zoro’s fists shook at the thought, until he heard steps getting closer.

Fuck.

Zoro barely made it away before he heard you step out of the galley. He hurried to his quarters as fast as he could.

Part of him was aching for you to knock on his door. To beg him to fuck you, to give you what you really needed. 

But you didn’t knock. 

Zoro stared at the ceiling, his mind still driving him wild. Now that he knew the cook’s hands weren’t on you, he finally fell into a fitful sleep, but every time he’d wake in the night, he’d think of you. 

I’ll show you. You’re mine. My Needy girl. 

Thank You for Reading! 💜

PART 2

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Tag List: @astheni-a | @ferns-fics | @heilee | @iamn1ya | @ghostfacefricker6969 | @onlybassoon01 | @apothicgloom | @slyhersophia | @cyberaestheticals

*Hi tagged friends! I wasn't sure if you'd like to be tagged in the extra scenes without the reader, so please let me know if you'd like me to leave your name out of these going forward.

A/N: I am loving the requests for extra scenes for this series, let me know if you have any other scenes you'd like to see! 😊

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

[kentosbabes]

facetime with frustrated nanami

Nanami was at a conference for three days, you’ve been missing him, missing his laugh and presence but also his dick. He was also missing you, missing your smile and flustered giggles but also your pussy that was built for him.

So when you got a call from him late one night, you were confused, “Hey doll.” He drawls.

“You alright Ken? Wait two secs,” you say and he could hear rustling in the background and the sound of the light switching on.

“I’m alright, I just missed you and jus’ wanna talk a little bit before I sleep,” you swear could hear a breath hitch, “What are you wearing?”

“I’m wearing your shirt and my white and baby blue panties on, the ones I bought last week d’ya remember?” Fuck, Nanami could just imagine you, hair splayed all over the pillows and soft thighs on display.

“Ah, can we facetime? I wanna see your pretty face right now.”

“I’ve been missing you so much, so- so much” He groaned in the back of his throat working down the waistband of his trousers. Nanami’s cock bulging through his boxers, a damp patch appearing.

He held the camera with his left hand on the account of his right being otherwise occupied with his dick. The video was slightly shaky, you could make out his hand reaching for the bulge in his trousers. Nanami started to rub himself through his pants, you could hear moans and grunts falling from his lips. “Touch yourself please sweetheart, just like you would when I’m not there.”

You shoved the panties to the side, showing off you pussy lips to him, you could see his hand shoving down his pants, stoking himself, thrusting up into his hand. You threw your head back and let out a beautiful moan as your fingers increased in numbers and speed.

“What are you thinking about right now?”

“Ah- I’m thinking of you bending me over and fucking me stupid right now” You stilled your motions, “What about you?”

Nanami slowly and shakily brings down his trousers, you can’t help but drool a little as you watch his dick be released from the prison. “Thinking of you, on your knees for me, pushing you face down, ass up on our bed and fucking you hard and slow.”

“You’d feel so good inside me, so full…” you incoherently start to murmur, now pumping your fingers in and out steadily, exhaling heavily.

“Please,” you breathed, voice breaking. “Please-”

“Please what?” The sounds getting more debouched, your moans and the slick squelching in the room.

“Please I need to- fuck. I need to cum please Nanami” The pleading went straight to his cock making it twitch where it lay hard and heavy against his skin.

“Wait for me, just a little bit longer, can you do it for me darlin?”

You spurred him on, it was your moans and whimpers, your breathy panting voice, and the sounds of your fingers diving into your pussy he wished he was doing, that drove him crazy.

He speeding up, going faster and faster, he’s stopped being so quiet with his moans, letting out a cacophony of moans. He has his white shirt pulled up across his chest. His chest was trembling, moving with every stroke and tug of his hand. The camera jolting slightly and you see his dick twitch just before he came all over his abs. Nanami’s dick thrusting into his fist while he pumps himself to climax.

His breathing grew a little harsher, and he gripped the base of his cock tightly. Hot white ropes of cum shooter over Nanami’s stomach, dribbling over making his hands sticky, he could hear you over the phone, your moans and whimpers of his name driving him insane with pleasure. Your body suddenly jerked, and you let out a throaty cry pushing your fingers in deep. Finally coming to the brink of an orgasm you cried, “Ken, m’ coming- ah, please ah-“

The sounds of both of your laboured breath rung deep through the line, he was the first to speak, ”Damn, it’s going to be a long two more days till I get to fuck you brain dead.”

Masterlist

[fatteningmenstories2]

Coached

Chapter 3

Winter break was the perfect opportunity to make Coach proud, and as Axel entered his hometown he sure didn’t appear much different from when he left, with his extra poundage snugly hidden under his winter layers, but from the moment he sat down for dinner both his parents were left in grasp at their son's new diet. Even Axel was shocked by how much he was eating, a second plate at dinner quickly became the norm and dessert was a rush at the table to get a piece before Axel devoured it all.

But when Axel told his blue-collar dad that he had been placed on the wrestling team, he was over the moon but no one seemed happier than his mum. For years she had been bugging her son to eat and had nearly made herself sick worrying over  Axel not eating enough at college but now with her son returned with a seemingly relentless appetite she couldn’t be more glad. Especially over the holiday season, Axel became her taste taster for all her culinary projects.

Needless to say, Axel wasn’t going hungry over the holidays, in fact remembering Coach’s orders he made sure his stomach never grumbled and his hands were never empty. After his term of uncontrolled drinking and partying, this was the perfect rest bite for him to bulk up for the new term. He would spend his entire day plopped down on the couch scrolling through the channels while his mum made sure he always had something to graze on - his favourite was bringing her double chocolate cookies which he absent-mindedly picked at until all that was left were mere crumbs. It certainly beat being out in the cold running, he thought waiting for his dad to return from work and their daily baragement of beers to begin as they watched the game. 

“Why Axel, I don’t think I've ever seen you eat this much in one go’ His dad laughed on Christmas Day as Axel cleaned his third plate. 

‘You better be careful - you don’t want to end up with this old gut’ His dad went on slapping his round gut. 

“Nonsense Earl, if my son is going to be out there wrestling with men of all sorts he needs all the meats he can get’ His mum said comically slapping his dad on the head as she returned from the kitchen with even more food. 

“Dad don’t’ he paused reaching over to get another piece of turkey  ‘worry, I’m just following Coach’s order’ Axel finished as he piled his plate high with mashed potatoes and gravy.

By the time January arrived, no one was surprised when the Christmas expenses had gone up this year, and it was easy to see where all the money went, as Axel snored in the living room sleeping off a food coma  - his bloated stomach peeping out from under his clothes. 

“Mum why do we have to go clothes shopping’ Axel moaned pushing about the trolley. 

“Huh, hon, just future proofing’ His mum responded reaching into the New Year's sales to eying up some larger clothes for her growing son.

It wasn’t long till Axel was getting ready to head back, and he knew Coach was certainly not going to be disappointed, eating all break meant he had certainly packed on some holiday pounds. Slapping his soft belly, he couldn’t believe he used to have abs there as he stoked his curved gut. As fixed his suffocating briefs he hated to admit it but he needed a bigger size up, his underwear was tight around him and he couldn't deny the small tears he was seeing in them, his old jeans were far out of the question.  Looking in the mirror it was obvious why his old clothes were fit for his trim running bod and was struggling to catch up with his plumper self,  the biggest challenge was change was of course his belly, it was growing in all directions thickening him up as pinched the wad of fat that was developing all around him.  Axel couldn’t help but he turned as he imagined how proud Coach was going to be when he saw him. Bending over the large tearing sound he heard signalled that his underwear had finally called it quits, and his fat arse was the only thing that was growing as pre-cum filled the front of them. 

Waving bye to his parents and promising to stay in contact,  the well-fed Axel couldn’t wait to see the looks on everyone’s faces when they saw him back bigger. 

                                               ***************

“Woah looks like someone had a happy holiday;

“Nice Axel, wanna hit the new buffet later

“Well, looks like pretty boy finally got the memo’ chuckled Jake towering over Axel in the corridor, sporting his small holiday weight sneaking through his vest

“Yep this is some nice grade fat you’ve got there’ He went on grabbing Axel’s new belly and jiggling - a new feeling for him and his dick.

“Looks like you finally looking like one of us huh’ he said “Coach is going to be proud’ he finished leaving Axel standing there holding his belly hoping his premium wasn’t showing. 

Axel didn’t hesitate to jump straight back into the wrestling lifestyle, sure he missed cracking beers back with his dad and his mom’s homemade cooking but nothing could beat the week of violent drinking the wrestlers threw to celebrate before Coach returned. It seemed like everyone was enjoying Axel finally packing on some and becoming one of the lads. Even Tony took him out to eat, but this had been becoming one of their normal activities so it was hard to tell if it was to celebrate or not. 

“Damn I remember when my gut was  that size’ laughed Tony as the pair of them were getting changed one day 

Axel didn’t know whether Tony was joking or not though, the idea of Tony ever being his size was crazy.

“Yh it suits ya, There won’t be no time at all till you one of us’ he finished.

As Tony’s Loud snores filled the room, Axel was up all night feeling his growing body imagining it bigger and bigger, the entire week the guys had been bringing up his new addition, Axel hadn’t even noticed it sneaking up on him, but now it was all he could think about. His entire life he had had a flat 6 Pac but now he was sporting what the lads were calling a starter gut, and it was stealing his attention. He couldn’t get enough of exploring it and prodding its softness, especially after Jake grabbed it the other day - was it really that noticeable? He could barely see it when he was clothed but the guys easily picked up on it, feeling it now its warm soft doughness it seemed unstoppable, spreading over his body but  before he knew it a hunger grumble came out of it, and as if he was under a spell he got up absent-mindley  to sought out food to feed it

“Why, Why, Why, looks like someone’s been sticking to my regime’ Coach said beaming with joy as Axel entered 

“195lbs’

“34inch waist’

“110 horse”

“What you spend all you holiday doing - eating, well it sure damn looks like it.

Axel didn’t know whether to blush or be ashamed so he stuck in silence 

“I'm just kidding Davidson, I’ve been told my jokes don’t do so well Coach continued sternly 

‘No this is what I would like to see’ he said pinching Axel with a calliper to pull out the extra fat 

“But still you're just shy of our starting weight, so you better give stuffing your face with whatever you doing Davidson we’ve still got some work to do

Axel couldn’t believe it he had stuffed himself blind and still it hadn’t been enough, but he  could tell from the look on Coach’s face he certainly wasn’t disappointed 

‘And Davidson, here’s your new timetable’ Coach said as Axel made his way out of the doors “Got some one on one session with me - we’ve got to start turning that fat into the muscle you hear … ’

But Axel didn’t care what followed all he heard was more one one-on-one with Coach and he was hooked

As the Spring term commenced, Axel found himself spending nearly every hour of the day with the rest of the team, he gamed with them, he drank with them and most frequently he ate with them by the time  February arrived the only thing he didn’t do was train with them. That was left for his one-on-one sessions with Coach, on their first session he eagerly bee-lined to the weights before being smoothly guided away to the mats by Coach where instead he spent his time learning basic manoeuvres and mainly building a centre of gravity as Coach put,  which was just a fancy word for squats. Axel couldn’t complain tho the moment he felt Coach’s strong arms on him he was in 7 heaven praying his erection was hidden. He always left a session with a shake in one hand  and a not-so-hidden semi in his pants. 

What had started over winter with ice-cream tubs being licked clean, dinner plates towering and a relentless appetite only expanded as the college rolled on, blindly goaded on the team. At every angle of his life food was being shoved in front of him, and Axel happily ate it all up after all as the week passed he was seeing the results. At the start of the year, he had been a stick compared to the rest of the team but now Axel was proudly entering chubster territory.   His beginner belly bloomed into a proper gut, rounding out his frame, his pecs had puffed out, pushing his nipples apart as they started to sag under their fat. Every day he could feel his underwear growing tighter and together as his bum was expanding exponentially. When Coach read the scale past 200  he couldn’t contain his glee, this was it he was finally beefing up and it seemed like Coach couldn’t either, treating Axel to an included meal stacked high with pasta and meat and finishing it up with a triple-decker chocolate cake. But even after 4 courses of food Axel kept eating, sitting in front of him was a man who could turn him on with just a look and here was watching Axel stuff his face high, while he kept ordering a bottle of wine. 

‘Kid, you put in some in a good shift today’ Coach said once the bill had been paid for, Axel couldn’t see but the length alone let him know it wasn’t cheap.

“Thanks, Coach, Burrrppppp’, Axel couldn’t keep it all, especially  after the second bottle of wine, it was as if he was filled with gas 

“Please Davidson, call me Creed’ Coach chuckled slapping Axel on the back to relieve more gas.

His touch alone, sent blood straight to Axel’s cock, thankfully under the cover of darkness Axel's secret was hidden, especially with how his too-tight dress pants were definitely not able to conceal his erection. Matter of fact everything he was wearing was too tight, even the shirt his mother had newly brought him was struggling to contain his bloated gut, with gaps of his flesh poking out between the buttons. 

As the two stood there in an awkward silence, their age gap of 30 years not filling the gap, it was Coach who finally broke the silence.

“Say Davidson, I didn’t even get to ordering any dessert before the kitchen closed, and you know as well as me that no meal is complete without dessert!”

‘Yes coach, .. I mean Creed’

“Just what I thought Davidson, follow on’

Axel was so pleased to just follow Coach’s words blindly, as he followed him into the night. Sitting in Coach’s red Corvette the wind in his hair whipping away the sweat from his forehead from dinner, Axel was happily stuffed full and was enjoying being all to seeing Coach Creed up close as the night rolled past them, wearing a back tailored suit, Axel didn’t even think it was possible but Coach looked even dreamy than before. From his salt-and-pepper black haircut short that matched his suit to his chest hairs poking out above his dress shirt, the man knew what looked good. This thought was hammered down when they arrived at Coach’s house, secluded away from the main road and surrounded by miles of green twilight fields, the midcentury house stood out amongst its black backgrounds, even drunker now than he was at the restaurant Axel blindly tried to take it all in as Creed led him in through the large glass front doors. 

‘Davidson just wait there a moment while I get ready’ Coach said as he disappeared into the many doors of his hallway leaving Axel to sit on what he could only presume was a very expensive comfortable couch. Taking in his surroundings, Axel wasn’t surprised to find that just like his office back at college Coach’s walls were littered with trophies and medals celebrating his very successful wrestler career. As he felt his cock harden under his bloated gut lustfully staring at Coach in his tight wrestler gear the loud voice of Coach calling for him broke the silence. 

“Davidson you can come in now.

Breaking his trance, Axel walked though the same doors Coach had once disappeared into, entering a very sleek wooden dining room lit warmly overlooking the mountains. But despite the scenic view just beyond the glass, Axel's mind was instead drawn to the plethora of cakes and deserts that adorned the oak dining table.

“Well Davidson what are you waiting for, go on EAT up!!!” Coach chuckled seeing Axel's drunken trance

And Axel did just that, he didn’t know what came over him but like a pig he was grabbing plates left right and centre, chocolates eclairs stuffed straight down, slices of cheesecakes grabbed and gobbled down, big spoonfuls of ice cream swallowed up. All under the watchful eye of Coach who now stood watching the whole scene, as Axel reached over his gut pressing against the wooden table reaching for more and more deserts. With the empty mountains in the background, it was just them for a miles around, as Axel ravishingly filled his mouth thinking only about food and Coach’s intangible presence in the room. 

“Atta boy, Axel I knew you still had some space in there

Coach goaded him on, as Axel slowed down weighed down by all he stuffed into himself that night, his suit tight around him covered and smeared with creams and chocolate sauces.

‘Why Davidson it looks like you’ve only got one cake left’

Coach said, as Axel had slowed to a halt, wheezing for air too stuffed to even think straight, all that was left on the table of empty dishes was a slice of Triple Layer double creamy chocolate cake calling out to him just out or reach, but as he struggled to hoist himself up in his chair and reach over to grab it, he couldn’t move a muscle glued down by his gluttony, anchored to the chair. 

“Here Davidson let me ’, Coach responded upon seeing Axel’s failed attempt to finish,  expecting Coach to just hand him the cake instead he was met with the warm strong hands of Coach tugging at his suit, slowly Coach removed and folded his suit jacked smeared in chocolate, delicately he turned Axel’s chairs around as he unbuttoned his taut dress shirt, letting Axels gut free from its buttoned prison as it bellowed out for air. And finally, he tugged at his dress pants leaving Axel in the complete nude. All 200lbs of him on display, from every pink stretch mark to roll of fat that had rapidly adorned his body since college had started, a once powerful lither runner now a chubby bloated mess covered in chocolate. 

“There that should be more comfortable’ Coach finished finally passing him the cake

Axel  couldn’t believe it, here he was sat there naked under Coach’s impressive frame who was now hovering the most appetising  cake he had seen just in front of his head. But his arms were too weak, too fatigued from his  abhorrent display of greed that night, he just couldn’t muster them to lift themselves up,  all while  Coach stood over him watching. 

So Axel decide to finally use that head of his, as he lunged forward, biting down on the cake. Bite after chocolatey bite, till all that was left was a small bite just out of reach of his hungry mouth, looking up at the imposing frame that was Coach, not a word was uttered as Coach reached done and stuffed his mouth with the last remaining bite, leaving his fingers in Axel’s mouth  waiting to be licked clean.

“That’s right Davison - I gonna make you the biggest wrestler the world has ever seen’ Coach said retracting his clean fingers form Axel’s mouth 

But it was all too much for Axel who had since lost control, as he felt his dick explode, the cum painting the underside of his gut, leaving the hot mess leaking out onto his fat as he whimpered out a moan -  all while Coach had  stood there smirking down onto him. 

[chimindity]

Online boyfriend

Summary | Chase catches his sister sneaking out and confronts her when she gets back. Request by @mirellef2001

Pairing | Chase Stokes & sister!reader

Warning | Chase being a protective brother, angst?

A/N | why are the pictures big like that? I wrote the plot like this!! (Cause this could be dangerous to meet people you don't know very much, and I wanted to write Chase as a protective brother!)

⸝⸝⸝ ꒰ ❣ . 　⁺ 　 . ❣ . 　⁺ 　 . ❣ ꒱ ⸝⸝⸝

The moment your mom tells you that you're all going to Washington, you couldn't be happier. This is where your online boyfriend lives. Even though you've only known him for three months, you've become attached to him. Tonight, as soon as your parents and brother go to sleep, you have an idea about sneaking out to finally meet your boyfriend for the very first time.

You quickly pull a baggy shirt to cover your short dress, the one you've planned to wear when you meet your boyfriend, you jump as you hear Chase's voice calling out your name and opening the door. -"Fu— Chase! Please knock before coming into my room, that's what locks are for," you sigh, sitting down at the edge of the bed, trying to act as natural as possible.

-"Why would you lock your door? Anyway, mom and dad are going to sleep, and so am I, so please don't make too much noise," he holds the doorknob as he speaks, analyzing your room, expecting to find something abnormal for the reason you are acting a bit different, you simply nod and give him a warm smile as he closes the door.

You make sure he's really gone before you start pulling your sweater over your shoulders and tugging down your dress as it's ridden up with the sweater. You stumble your way to the window and slowly open it as silently as possible, closing your eyes every time the window makes a noise, hoping your brother won't wake up.

You climb out of the window and carefully land on the ground, not even thinking twice about whether it's a good idea or not. You couldn't wait to finally meet your boyfriend that you didn't even realize you forgot to turn off the light in your room. You start running to the park where he has told you to meet him there.

The more you walk into the park, the more you get scared. After all, he's just someone you've met on the internet. You keep looking over your shoulders every now and then, nervously fidgeting with the hem of your dress as you hear footsteps coming toward you. You call out your boyfriend's name.

When all of sudden, Chase shows up out of nowhere, you recognize your pink phone case in his hand and realise that you have left your phone on your bed, -"Chase!" You yell, as if he were the one in the wrong, he didn't say a word but grabs your arm -"no, I'm the one who should be talking" he turns on your phone, then he brings it infront of you.

-'I can't meet you, I'm sorry we need to break up'

You don't remember sending this message, and it finally tilts in your mind. You glance up at Chase as soon as he tucks your phone back in his pocket. -"Don't you realize how dangerous it could have been? Are you even thinking straight? Meeting someone you met online in the night?" He looks down at you, his firm tone causing your eyes to well up with tears.

You yank his wrist off your upper arm and turn to face the tree beside you. "I can't believe you went through my phone! I loved him, Chase!" you sob, fists clenching around your dress. "I don't even want to hear you throw a tantrum. Get back here, and let's go home," he rolls his eyes and lifts you up over his shoulder.

You squirm in his grip, feeling betrayed by your own brother, not even realizing he might have saved your life. -"You're lucky I didn't tell mom and dad," he spits. He gently guides you through the window before climbing in as well. You sit on your bed, smudged mascara around your eyes as you sheepishly look at your brother.

-"May I know what's that look for?" He asks, looking for one of your pajamas, you roll your eyes as you try to reach your phone in his pocket before getting your hand yanked away. -"Don't even think about it," he holds your wrist and hands you a set of pajamas instead.

He walks out of your room and looks at you. -"Go to sleep, or I'll tell on you to mom and dad," he speaks before closing the door, leaving you alone in the dark as you change into your pajamas.

Taglist

@mirellef2001 @nemesyaaa @jjsfavgirl @marvelfanfics1 @flora-eva @mrvlxgrl @wearemadeofstardust0 @ziggyfaremen

[importantgalaxyrunaway]

Better than the devil. (Matt Murdock x reader) part 2

read part one here (tPLEASE COMMENT AND REBLOG I WORKED REALLY HARD IN THIS ONE)

warnings: a little spicy at the end, very much implied smut at the end. Lots of angst. SO MUCH CATHOLIC GUILT. Guilt in general. Negative self talk. I tried my best wrote a lot more than normal. LOTS OF FLUFF TOO!!!, such cute interactions with the child.

note 📝: italics are Matt’s thoughts Might do a part 3 but I’ll do some one shots before hand. Have lots of ideas will post a poll. Let me know if ya wanna be tagged in Matt Murdock fics

@schneeflocky

Matt finally stirs with his wife in his arms. Maybe it was the fact it was now morning or perhaps indulgence on sounds the city was emitting this morning. The chaos, the carnage he could hear it all. The “blip” had blown everything apart and now society was scrambling to put itself back together the night after they returned. But then he feels her weight on him, like an anchor to the real world and his senses. Her soft sleeping heartbeat flutters and her skin…her skin was like honey. Her scent was intoxicatingly good. He breathed in her lavender smell. His fingers skate over her silk nightgown. He smiles to himself remembering how he had bought it for her. It was his favorite fabric, he loved feeling and loving her in it. She used to tease him by wearing it when she wanted his attention begging for his touch. Trying not to wake her, he shifts her body slightly off of his own and stands up walking to their bedroom. There he changes from his work suit to causal clothes (in the gif)

he walks back to her and stokes his hair. And a sudden pang of guilt washes over him, he could still smell her salty tears from the last night. Right now there was nothing stopping him from being engulfed in an ocean of catholic guilt.

he had left her. He had knocked her up and left her like some deadbeat. It was like he had used her for her body. No one deserves that let alone the woman he married. The woman he loved. Who had been through so much pain with him on his account. All the nights were she’d patched him up from practically the brink of death. Were her scent and touch were some of the only things grounding him from a volume of guilt and dispear. From overwhelming all the sounds and sense. Her delicate kiss and featherlight fingers keep him sane in those dark days where he almost lost sight of everything. This was the woman he said he would never leave. Vowed it to god on their wedding. No, She deserves much better than him. Better than the devil.

Now even Matt knew that the blip wasn’t his fault, there was nothing stopping the inevitable, but its catholic guilt and there no stopping it. Besides, he also left the city and the danguorus streets. God knows what Fisk did while he was gone. He clenched his fist and the mere thought. The devil clawing to get out of him. He needed to get back on the streets tonight. But then….he heard it a small body the pads of her feet halting to a stopped when she saw him. Her small but mighty heartbeat pounding.

“who are you? Get away from my mommy!” He was surprised at the fearlessness and authority in her squeaky voice. But mostly he was stunned. He tried to speak but it was as if his mouth dried up. He couldn’t believe it…he was a father? He had made her? She was so big he had missed so much. Another pang of guilt racked his body. God, she had to grow up without a father for the first years of her life.

“why are you staring at me like that?” She questioned. Of course he wasn’t Staring but he was facing her general direction and his thousand yard stare seemed to be unsettling. Sensing her slight discomfort he quickly grabbed his red glasses and put them on as not to scare her. Finally his body felt as if it was not cemented. And finally y/n woke up, stretched and yawned and her eyes fell upon the sight in front of her.

“angel it’s okay, i know him. He’s not here to hurt us” She says quickly and it puts her at ease. Matt can sense her shoulder untenseing and her heartbeat returning to normal. Y/n sighs “what are you doing up?” She kisses Matt’s still numb with shock body on the cheek. walking towards the kitchen that’s near the living room area so they can still talk.

her hands make a motion and cover her ears. She makes a face of discomfort. “City’s- loud today. More than normal, it hurts.”

his wife made a sympathetic nod as if this is not the first time she’s heard something like this.

“ok, I’m going to make all of us some banana pancakes and I promise angel I will explain everything” she says makeing the batter “oh and Mathew dear, you don’t have to wear those glasses this is your own home and she should get used to it”

suddenly realization struck Matt like a harpoon. And he find his voice. He snaps his fingers to make himself wake up out of this trance. He takes of his glasses tentivily.

“wait…you can hear the city?” He crouched down next to angel. ��Does she have my sense?”

“she does. I…haven’t explained it to her fully yet but she knows she different than other kids”

a wave of emotions washed over him like tidal wave in a storm. He could barely even believe he was a father and now this. Concern, hope, protectiveness, guilt. But what beamed the most inside of him was pride. Intense pride. And he beams. She was like him, she could hear the city, feel the things he felt. From every heels on the pavement to every whiff of purfume that would hit him like a brick wall rather than a ‘pleasant smell’. He worried of course about it. But wasn’t this more than he could possibly have hoped for? He wasn’t alone. He puts her hand on his chest and his on hers.

“can you hear my heartbeat?” He says shakily. You can tell he’s fighting back tears

“mhm. It’s strong!”

“I-i can hear yours too. It’s small but it’s powerful.”

they sit the for a while , him crouching to meet her level hand on each others hearts in unison. His strong steady and hearty. The heart of a fighter. Hers quick and small, like a butterfly beating its wings. Listening to their heartbeats in chorus. As father and daughter. The moment is so beautiful he doesn’t want to break it but eventually withdrawals his hand and stands up. The girl looked at him quizzically and then ran to her room to play with her toys till breakfast is ready.

“you never told me” he walks towards where she is frying at the stove and hugs her from behind. She squeals slightly as he does this surprised. He wraps his arms tightly around her waist. “I’m sorry I left you ” he purrs into her ear. Nuzzling and nipping at her neck then pressing featherlight kisses all down her collarbone. Stopping for a moment to inhale her lavender scent. She flips the final pancake off the stove and turns it off. She turns around to face him and put her arms around his neck. Her livly met his unseeing ones and she wished for just about the millionth time he could see, just so he could stare into his eyes and for once have them meet hers back. His hazel eyes were so damn pretty and it always pissed her off that he hid them from the world. Not that he didn’t look good in his signature red glasses, oh no he was beautiful but to her it was sad he had to hide. His fluffy hair looked magnificent and she couldn’t help admire him. He ruffles his hair and goes to the table were she calls for angel and serves them all a healthy stack of pancakes. As they sit down eating their pancakes angel finally breaks the silence.

“so……who is he”

she takes a deep breath ready to plunge into the conversation “he’s your father”

“I thought you said dad was gone?”

“yes well, I thought that too. They are calling it a blip. Half of the universe seems to have mysteriously disappeared and then reappeared five years later. Your dad was one of them”

“oh” is all the little girl manages trying to wrap her head around the idea

“it’s confusing but the important part is he’s back and we’re going to be a family”

the little girl beams at her new found father. I hold Mathew’s hand and pat it reassuringly. The atmosphere feels like it’s ten pounds lighter and calmer.

“also, angel” matt starts as if testing saying her name “im not exactly normal. And neither are you . that’s a good thing. When I was a kid a truck with chemicals hit me in my eyes. And that’s why I can’t make eye contact with you. I’m blind sweetie.”

“you can’t see me?” Her eyes widening as if she’s never thought of the mere idea of blindness. Her tone astonished.

“no but you see, just like you i can hear everything in the city. Actually i can hear and feel and smell much more than you can. Even though i lost my sight my other senses were heightened. I can “see” in my own way”

“you aren’t blind but you still have some of your father’s abilities” y/n added

she nods taking in all the information. They realized it was a lot for a little girl but they didn’t want to talk down to her. She was smart and they knew that. There he had told her everything….well not everything.

——————/————/—————-/.——

As long as he could he would never tell her about the devil in him. The fact that he was balancing daredevil and being a father terrified him, all Fisk would see was a potential weakness. The day still haunted him to this day when he had kidnapped his wife and hurt her just to prove a point to him. He still felt guilty when his hands slid over her ridges, scars and burns from where he had hurt her. Everytime the guilt hurt him more than a gunshot. As he leaped across buildings listening for screams and cries he thought about this. A lot more crime had come after the blip, people who were devastated for losing their family’s or desperate because their jobs. He had been more busy in these days than he had ever before as daredevil. He had already stopped, an armed robbery, a kidnapping of a little girl, and prevented a woman about to be attacked by a man with a knife and done many others. He had sustained more cuts than bargained for, including a long gash across his side. Maybe it was the fact that it had been five years. The world had moved on without him. Crime was rampant in Hell’s Kitchen more than ever before. He couldnt continue not with dried blood caked all over his suit. Not with multiple gashes and cuts and bruises across his body. He made his way across the rooftops jumping back to his house. He slide in through the window. He listened to their hearts. Angels was slow and steady she was clearly fast asleep he could also tell by her little breathe. She was having a good dream. But y/n’s was up pacing the room her heartbeat quick, he could tell she was worried for him. She spot him on the windowsill instead and pulls him into her arms.

“oh! Matt” her voice gasps full of love and concern but mainly sorrow. she pulls him in for a tight hug in his weak form. “Look at you” she steps back to fully take in his appearance. He was caked in blood from head to toe. Weither it was his or someone else’s she didn’t know. He was exuasted, hair disheveled taking off his mask. She silently prayed that it was someone else’s blood on him. Glancing over at the clock, it was 3:30 am.

”sweetheart I’m sorry I-“ but he stumbles forward and you catch him barely before he hits the ground. “Ugh” he groans.

you practically drag him to the shower. She peels off his suit, stripping him down naked and turn on the shower. The lukewarm water is soothing on his skin as he sits down on the bench in the shower. A blush across his cheeks now that you decided to strip him down completely. My body heats up seeing him naked, even beat up he somehow manages to look like a Greek god. Or maybe a handsome devil would be more fitting.

“We’ve been married for 6 years and I can still make you blush, that’s says something” she jokes as she scrubs the caked blood off of him. It going down the drain in a stream of red. He is clearly out of it. Overstimulated, overwhelmed. Hes just sits there in a trance as she cleans him up.

“it’s worse than I thought” he whispers

“it’s Hell’s Kitchen of course it’s bad”

“no the blip created a power vacuum they’re back, all of them.”

he groans and leans his head back. She gently washes his hair and analyses his cuts. The water cascading across his heavenly body. His expression is pained.

I can hear them, all of them, the people I couldn’t. they’re screaming in my ears and I can’t drown it out. I’ve failed them. I’ve failed them all. I can’t do it all, I’m only one person there are dozens of them crying. Crying out for me. I’ll never be able to stop them it’ll never be enough to stop them. I’m a failure, I don’t deserve happiness. I especially don’t deserve her and angel. She could do so much better than the devil. I’m a f—

his thought loop round and round like a carousel at fair. The only thing that grounded him was her touch in his hair. A soft gentle anchor to life.

“Matt” she said sweetly her voice dripping in that honey tone that made his knees weak though he’d never admit it. And tone seems to shift in the room. “My Love, your clean now. Are you alright?”

I love her so much. I want to feel her every inch of her. I want her grounding me to earth. Her body on mine. I can tell her heartbeat picking up and her body temperature rising. She feels the same. I could listen to her voice all day. God, i love her.

there are still more days than often when he wonder ‘what did he ever do to deserve her’ and though he doesn’t know it she thinks the same.

he pulls her in for a kiss by her wrist. The kiss is hungry and desperate, full of lust and passion. But there is the signature taste of gentleness in there. When you finally break up from the long kiss, he pulls you onto his lap and and trails soft but rough kisses down her neck.

“I’m going to take you up on your offer from kitchen” he pants out with that signature devilish smirk that he always has before he takes you to bed.

“I’m all yours matty” you smile with a glint a mischief in your eyes. You know how much that nickname affects him especially when you said it in that sugary voice that you did now. He swallowed back a deep groan and kisses you eagerly to silence it.

there was no dening it, the road would be hard ahead but the two of you would go into it together. You would get through this together.

[watcheraurora]

We Are Watchers

I don't know where this came from... enjoy? 0.9k words

CW: discussions of death and starving, along with canon-typical Life Series killing and death

—

Gnawing. Endless, bottomless hunger that eats from within. Eons passing by. Starving to death—unable to die. Scavenging what little can be scavenged from players. Death is not uncommon across the universe—nor is it permanent. Impermanent death is nothing. It does not satisfy. It doesn't take the edge off. Even the hardcore players—the ones who "permanently" die. They lose their world. They go to a new one.

Those ones are slightly more satisfying. They take the edge off. But they're usually one player. Maybe a handful.

More. More all at once. More will provide enough fuel.

Players are not miserable, generally. They live their lives in their worlds. They make their own fun. Their misery takes the edge off. Their misery, hatred, fury—it helps. But players are not miserable, generally.

So they must become so. If only for a short while. To ease the gnawing, bottomless hunger.

—

For eons, there were only two Watchers.

Me.

And you.

And we Watched. Sometimes side-by-side, sometimes worlds apart. Our Eyes peered across the worlds, bound only by the limits of time. We Watched the players.

Sometimes we were players ourselves. Sometimes we wrapped ourselves up in the skins of players and we walked the worlds, instead of Watching from beyond. But even bound to the skin of a player, the hunger always remained. Cooked steak, golden carrots—even enchanted golden apples. It was never enough.

You and I—always plagued by want. The desire for more.

Tearing through players' lives and deaths and consuming and never feeling satiated.

Do you remember when we welcomed him?

Do you remember the games we played with him and his friends? The puzzles we left for them to solve? The tricks and trials? Do you remember Watching ten players head for the stronghold? To defeat the Dragon together? Do you remember us splitting them up? Making them fight alone?

I remember, though your memory might be better than mine.

Those players were not miserable—they did not necessarily die more often than the average clumsy player.

Do you remember why they took the edge off the hunger for more?

Perhaps it was their frustration over the puzzles. Their... puzzlement.

After the dragon, we welcomed him to our ranks. Three Watchers, instead of two. You and I weren't so alone. He wanted. He wanted the same way we did. So we took him. We made him one of us. We gave him Eyes. And he Watched. He Watched his friends in the world we'd plucked him from.

Do you think he was happy? Watching without being able to play? Separate, and now always Other, from his friends?

For a time, I think he was.

But the hunger began to consume us further. We may have frightened him. Perhaps he came to hate us. To hate what he'd become. What we'd turned him into.

Strange... for all that I can See, I can't See into his mind. Even now.

—

The need for more grew. So we devised an idea. We would make arenas. A small world, compared to most. Boxed in. And in these arenas, we would place players plucked from their home worlds. We would stoke their bloodlust. We would make them kill each other. Their "permanent" deaths would send them back to their home worlds, but we would feast on the energy they gave off on that final death. We would feed on their bloodlust.

We would Watch and we would feed. Perhaps we would finally be satisfied.

How was I supposed to know he would take issue with that? You knew not, either.

But he had to descend into the world, wrapping his mortal form back around him, to remove the misery and hatred. To make the experience fun. To sully the meal—even for himself.

He is one of us. He is a Watcher. He must feed on the pain and misery and death too.

But you and I both know, don't we?

We know now as we knew then—we could convert his body. Make his form transcend mortality. We could give him our Eyes and our power. We could let him Watch—

But you and I know his heart remains unchanged.

Mortal. Human. Despite it all.

He cares.

I suppose that we care as well. But we care from a distance. We have never been truly like them. We are coded to rejoice in their suffering. To bestow curses that allow us to feed.

The canary—the omen of chaos descending.

The madness—recklessness and desperation.

The forgotten—doomed to die alone and unremembered, even surrounded by friends.

The lonely villain—perhaps the favor of any Watcher (even a converted one) is no favor at all.

—

And now, my friend, the time has come for us to Watch again. We have given them a new arena, though our power over it feels weaker than it's been before. Already, things are changing so rapidly.

But with Watching comes feasting. Gorging. The famine finally over. Finally, the aching emptiness of endless hunger will be relieved, if only for a short while. He can make the Games fun all he wants. He can remove the misery should he so choose.

The lifeforce of Death always tastes better than misery anyway. And, my friend, all of those Players will be back. And we will gorge on their blood again.

[sith-shenanigans]

Oh! Wonderful news! Just after this is when I played All Things Must End and Amias started getting very normal about everything. By which I mean Tanah-Chook became one of their favorite places in the Neath. I am so stoked to finally tell y’all about that. Time for a new thread!

I will not be going through every bit of the Exceptional Story, because that’s not really in the spirit of things (though I don’t know if I’ll be able to restrain myself when we get to The Shallows). But I’m going to hit the high points, so: spoilers for All Things Must End below the cut.

At this point, Amias has reached the point where they need five-card lodgings in order to progress their ambition. So while this technically happened before they began working on the Theorem, I imagine it actually happened while they were taking a break from their research.

Of course, part of that meant acquiring a room at the Royal Bethlehem in the first place. They weren’t thrilled at the prospect of putting themself in an opponent’s power like that, but they just needed to be able to host somewhere that wasn’t their address in the Side-Streets—nothing says they have to live there.

But—oh? It seems that the Manager is having a bit of a problem. Assisting with it, or at least taking a step towards assisting with it, might do wonders to get him to lend a future opponent a suitable suite.

So begins the season of Ruins. Or possibly Ruin. The grammar is a little inconsistent.

Amias heads off, probably back to the University. And gets waylaid!

By moths! Or, well, by a moth-fancier.

Despite Amias preferring Subtle routes, they’re… not going to trick some poor kid out of his drawings of lepidoptera. That’s just kind of petty. It’s, like, thirty pence of candles. There is a point when they would have worried about thirty pence of candles, but they have left that point very far behind.

(And they remember it well enough that they do try to give back. Usually to the Soft-Hearted Widow. But no, it didn’t even occur to them to cheat this poor kid.)

This description is so mean. No, I do want to hear about the moths. Amias wants to hear about the moths. Amias is friends with the Cloistered Diatomist. They very willingly listened to him telling them about algae for hours. Why would they not want to hear about your moths?

But a mystery is more compelling. So off to zee we go!

[sepdet]

[9.11.24] Seth Meyers summarizes Trump's presidency and everything he's done since in an incredible 60 second monologue.

Transcript below.

This monologue is from the end of Late Night with Seth Meyers on 9/11, the day after the Hartus-Trump debate. As Seth Meyers speaks at his desk, an inset video slideshow on the left shows images to match his words, either newspaper headlines or photos or short video clips.

Seth begins:

Donald Trump's entire argument, aside from weird lies about eating dogs and windmills and Hannibal Lecter, boils down to one thing. When he left office, things were awesome.

[Screen changes temporarily to clip of the debate with Trump speaking]: I created one of the greatest economies in the history of our country. We did a phenomenal job with the pandemic. We handed them over a country where the economy and where the stock market was higher than it was before the pandemic came in. Nobody's ever seen anything like it. [End of clip]

Back to Seth:

Ah, yes, I remember the halcyon days of 2020, when the economy was soaring and toilet paper was plentiful, and we weren't all wiping our mail down with Clorox, and filming our TV shows at home without our hair and makeup teams leaving us all looking like ghosts haunting a Dickensian orphanage. [ British accent] "Please help me! I've been trapped here ever since I died from eating spoiled gruel!"

[ Normal voice ] I can't believe I have to remind some people of this, but Donald Trump's presidency did not end well. Just in case you need it, here's a quick refresher. This shouldn't take too long.

Seth: Donald Trump was the first president since Herbert Hoover to oversee a net job loss. Unemployment soared, and the economy shrank by more than 3%. Corporate profits went up while manufacturing jobs declined. Home prices soared by nearly 30%. The national debt rose by nearly $8 trillion. Crime spiked. The number of Americans without health insurance rose by 3 million, and the number of presidents who have humped American flags went from 0 to 1.

He undercut the nation's response to a deadly pandemic that spiraled out of control because he ignored warnings about it, lied about its severity, disbanded agencies that were tasked with preparing for it, promoted sham treatments for it, said we could stop it by injecting disinfectant, and promoted a quack doctor who believes demon sperm is real, insulted servicemembers and feuded with Gold Star families, saluted a North Korean general, got reprimanded by the Army for desecrating Arlington National Cemetery in violation of federal law, and made the Queen of England disappear.

Said he had the best memory in the world, then forgot he said he had the best memory in the world, got laughed at by the United Nations, including the Germans, got impeached for threatening to withhold military aid from Ukraine, and encouraged Russia to interfere in our elections.

He doctored a weather map with a Sharpie to lie about the path of a hurricane, threw paper towels at hurricane victims, called Hannibal Lecter his wonderful man. A chief of staff called him an idiot. His national security adviser called him a dope. A secretary of state called him a moron. He got on a plane with toilet paper stuck to his shoe and didn't know how to close an umbrella.

He took millions from foreign officials, including a possible $10 million bribe from Egypt, brushed dandruff off the shoulder of the president of France. He staged a months-long coup attempt, stoked a violent insurrection, tried to coerce

Republican officials, into overturning the election, claim dead people were voting and Democrats were selling mail ballots, got impeached a second time.

He brought a crazy pillow salesman to the White House, and his lawyer gave a press conference at a landscaping company.

He lost the popular vote twice, got indicted four times, convicted of 34 felony counts, falsified business records to pay hush money to a porn star who said she spanked him in the ass with "Forbes" magazine. He was found guilty of fraud and libel and sexual abuse, possibly farted and definitely fell asleep in court.

Bragged about overturning Roe v. Wade, said he was against a Florida abortion ban, then said he was for the Florida abortion bill. Called the CEO of Apple Tim Apple, called Elon Musk "Leon Musk," said Nikki Haley was the Speaker of the House on January 6th, claimed the price of bacon goes up because the windmills blow, shark attacks are caused by electric boat batteries, again said Hannibal Lecter was dead and real, wonderful, even though he's fake and famously a bad guy, insists he's not weird by saying the word "weird" 11 times in 30 seconds, which is, let's admit it, super weird.

Became the first president -- [photo at this point shows Trump staring straight at the sun without eclipse glasses before the 2017 eclipse]

And, guys, we ran out of time, but there were a bunch more things.

[sun2flower6]

Mending Hearts

Rick Grimes x Platonic!OC

Warnings: None

summary: rick grimes wakes up from a coma and is met with a nurse who stayed to care for him.

In the eerie silence of a hospital ravaged by the zombie apocalypse, Nurse Bellatrix Stokes still clung to her position. Tending to the only patient in her ward, Rick Grimes, the only name she can think of. The deserted corridor echoed as she made her daily rounds, administering fluids, whispering words of hope into the man ear before she's off to have lunch.

As Bellatrix laid in her "room" she began to feel lonely even with the motionless man next door. Constant buzzing of the life support machine started to drive her to the edge of insanity, but she refused to give up on the only person in her life.

The next morning, as Bella changes Rick's I.V., his eyes pop open and faintly whispers 'Family.'

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

Bella's heart skipped a beat. Rick Grimes is awake! Though he was disoriented and confused, the only thing he could think about was his family.

"Where am I? Where's my family?" Rick questions, trying to sit up when his eyes landed on Bella. Instantly Bella jumps into action trying to calm him.

"It's okay. You're okay. Just calm down, please!" Bella says. "You were shot on duty and put into a coma. Once your calm, I'll answer any questions you may have and fill you in. Okay?"

"Y-yeah, yeah." Rick stutter out.

Bella went next door to grab clothes for Rick to change into. She stopped for a moment realizing that the man she had been taking care of for months, the only person she had left in this broken world had finally woken up.

"AHHH!" Bellatrix hears coming from down the hall.

"RICK!" Bella yelled, running out of the room down the hall. She finds Rick on the floor in front of the door she marked 'DON'T OPEN, DEAD INSIDE'.

"What is this?" Rick questions. "What's that noise coming from there?"

"Nothing" Bella responds, trying to get Rick from that door. "That's why I need to catch you up. The dead started walking. I don't know how or why but it's happening."

"What? I don't-"

"Look, it's true. A couple of weeks ago, I went home after my shift and found my roommate getting her face eaten by her boyfriend. The next thing I knew, I was here trying to see what was going on. Walked in on this-" Bella says pointing at the door, hinting at the dead ones. "I was running from some dead ones and found you in your, lose in a coma. I didn't have no where else to go so I stayed, made sure you were okay."

"I just- I don't know what's going on. I have to find my family." Rick says.

"Well that makes two of us. Here." Bella says handing Rick some clothes. "Why don't you change into these and we can see what we can do." Nodding his head, Rick went back to his room to change.

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

After Rick is dressed, he sees Bella at the nursing station packing some supplies.

"Where you goin'?" Rick questions Bella.

"Thought you said you had a family to find?" Bella said teasingly. "I thought I'd hitch a ride. . . See if I could be of use."

Rick chuckles to himself. "Yeah, that would nice."

"Alright then, let's hit the road!" Bella says, walking down the hall to the exit.

"Wait, I never got your name. I'm Rick Grimes."

"Bellatrix Stokes, but my friends call me Bella."

"Bellatrix? That name sounds familiar." Rick says, trying to remember where he heard the name.

"Surprised to hear that. I just moved to King County not too long ago and don't go out much. Not many names like it around here." She says as they walked out the hospital.

"Let me guess parents were hippies?" He laughs.

"Not at all." Bella laughed, "My parents had a difficult pregnancy, so I was a preemie. They said I was a 'warrior'. So, they looked for names that meant warrior and landed on Bellatrix, but they called me Trixi."

"Well, Bellatrix Stokes, it's nice to formally meet you." Rick stuck his hand out for her to shake.

Taking his hand, "It's nice to meet you too, Rick Grimes."

[tooneys-russo]

BOOTS AND BROKEN HEARTS

Previous Parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Summary: Alessia and her UNC coach Willa have a bit too much chemistry. Only downside is that Willa has a girlfriend.

CHAPTER 6

Lotte and Lois were there waiting with Willa, Willa gave as much information to the two as she could while they waited. The two players weren’t exactly stoked about Willa and what had happened but they acknowledged that you rushed to be by her side and helped her to hospital. When they were able to go in Lotte and Lois rushed inside, Willa waited by the door too nervous to go in. Alessia was still out of it a bit but smiled wide when she saw her friends. “Oh my god thank god you are okay.” Lotte hugged the striker tightly Lois quickly joined in on the hug. Alessia’s eyes shifted to the doorway where she saw Willa. “Hey.” Willa said awkwardly. “Hi.” Alessia smiled softly. Lotte and Lois looked at each other and cleared their throats as Alessia and Willa stared at each other. “Um, we are going to go and find food.” Lotte said as she stood up, “Maybe they will have pudding or something.” Lois followed behind Lotte as they left the room. “How’s the pain?” Willa stepped further into the room. “Yeah, it's manageable. They said you came with me in the ambulance, sorry I don’t remember.” Alessia sat up a little and winced at the pain, Willa rushed to her side to help her sit up more. The coach’s hands on Alessia’s back and behind the thigh of her good leg to move her. “Thank you.” Alessia put her hand on Willa’s wrist. “Alessia I am so sorry.” Willa looked down. “I am a coward, I should have broken up with Jennifer the first second I felt something. It wasn’t fair on you or on her.” Alessia touched Willa’s hand. “Hey, I knew about Jennifer and still did my part. Let’s just take a few steps back and be friends. I can’t have anything else going on with the amount of rehab I am going to have to do and the fact that my dad will be watching me like a hawk” She sighed and touched the brace around her leg. “How did the game end up?” Alessia looked at Willa. “Yeah we got the win. The girl only got a yellow and I got reported  and sent off for going off at the referee.” Alessia laughed and Willa smiled at the incredible sound. “Did you swear?” Willa nodded. “May have called them fucking useless and a waste of space.” She blushed as Alessia laughed. “That is one way to get sent off.” Alessia went to say something else but Lotte and Lois walked in with some snacks. “I better get going, leave you with these two. Give me a call if you need anything, I think your dad should be here tomorrow he was on the first flight he could get.” Willa almost leaned in to kiss Alessia’s cheek but stopped awkwardly mid way with Alessia locking eyes with her, she pulled away. “Bye.” Her voice broke slightly and she rushed out of the room. “Fucking idiot.” The three could hear being said by Willa to herself as she walked down the hall. The three Brits laughed and ate snacks for a few hours before the two girls had to leave. 

As soon as Alessia’s Father, Mario, arrived from England she was able to be discharged, they went to the AirBnB he was renting while he was there, it was a two bedroom place so he could keep an eye on Alessia’s recovery. Alessia sent a text to Willa, ‘Hey just letting you know Dad picked me up and I am staying with him for a bit.’ Willa smiled at the text, the team was training but only a text from Alessia could change her focus. ‘Good to hear, let me know if you need anything, the team misses you a lot. Once you are up and moving we will throw a little party for you at the ground x rest up stargirl’ Alessia smiled wide at the text and laid back in her temporary room. After Alessia had rehab and the girls had training Lois and Lotte went around to Alessia’s place to watch some movies, Lotte and Lois noticed that Alessia was spending a fair bit of time on her phone. “Checking on your girlfriend?” Lotte smirked. “We said we would be just friends, I can’t do what I did before. I can’t get distracted. Thank god Jennifer called when she did in the theatre or we would have gone too far.” Alessia ran her fingers through her hair. “Yeah no one can sit in those seats without knowing what you two did and that was just making out. Imagine if you went all the way.” Lois said with a mouthful of food, Alessia hit her with a pillow. 

Willa sat at her apartment playing video games, she tried to take her mind off the mess that she had caused, it made her sick what she had done to Alessia and even Jennifer. Willa sighed as she messaged Jennifer, ‘Hey, I am sorry for what I did. I have been so focused here and have been pulling away. I truly do care for you and did love you. Thank you for the good times and I hope you kill it in Orlando. I am sorry again Jennifer, truly.’ There was no reply from Jennifer by the time Willa was drifting off to sleep. Willa was woken up by her phone pinging at 3am she looked over and it was a text from Alessia, ‘Hi. Manchester play Burnley in a few days, the girls are going to watch it in the theatre. Did you want to join?’ Willa looked over the text. ‘Alessia, why are you awake?’ The reply from the striker came quickly, ‘My leg hurts, it woke me up.’ Willa’s heart broke a little knowing that the girl was in pain. ‘Can you take more pain meds? Anything I can do?’ Alessia smiled at Willa’s concern. ‘I have taken more just waiting for them to kick in. Are you coming to watch the game?’ Willa bit her lip thinking what she should say back, there will be other people there nothing would happen. ‘Yeah can’t wait to see you lose.’ Alessia tried to keep her laugh quiet around her sleeping friends. ‘You can’t say that I am injured and in pain.’ Willa blushed. ‘Sorry princess, I will hope for a draw. Get some sleep. Good night, well good morning.’ Alessia smiled wide at the message. ‘Goodnight Willa x’ The two girls had the best sleep they’d had in a while.  

Willa wore an acid wash green vintage Nike tshirt with some baggy jeans, white converse and her green Nike cap that she had backwards. She walked into the theatre and saw the players already there and chatting, they didn’t glare at her like last time she walked into the change room. Willa immediately looked at Alessia who was wearing her UNC training shorts and her Manchester United shirt, Willa smiled as she watched the girl as she laughed with her friends. Alessia turned as she chatted and saw Willa, a smile graced her lips as she waved at her coach. Willa waved and sat up the back, Alessia got on her crutches and began heading over to the coach, as she got closer to the top her crutch got caught on the step and she began to fall forward, Willa dived over and caught Alessia before she fell. “Can you please be careful?” Willa steadied the girl with her hands on the blonde’s waist. “Can you not sit up the back like a creep?” Alessia laughed. “You got me there.” Willa helped Alessia to sit down, she flicked the sleeve of Alessia’s jersey. “Honestly this looks dreadful on you.” Willa smirked and Alessia gasped. “Oh please, you will be wearing this tomorrow when we win.” Willa laughed and nodded. “Yeah okay deal, but only because you are injured.” Lotte and Lois watched closely the interaction between Willa and Alessia. Before the game started Alessia headed back to her friends, Willa watching her slowly go back to her seat. During the game Willa took a couple notes as she watched, Alessia saw the coach taking notes and sent her a text. ‘Nerd, have you ever just watched a game to enjoy it?’ Willa smiled at the text and looked up at the girl and poked her tongue out then went back to writing. At half time Willa went to the kitchen to grab some water. “I hate football.” Willa turned to see who the voice belonged to, she saw the blonde striker struggling with her crutches. “Is that because you are 1 nil down to Burnley?” Willa smirked and Alessia glared at her. “Maybe.” She leant against the bench, Willa walked over and stood in front of her. “At least I won’t have to wear the jersey.” She put her hands either side of Alessia. “I will find a way to make you wear it. Even if you look good in what you are wearing.” Alessia tugged at the coach’s shirt to bring her closer, they looked into each other’s eyes and Willa began to lean in. Alessia matched Willa’s movements as their lips gently touched, Willa moved her hands to Alessia’s hips and pressed their bodies together as the kiss deepened. They both knew what they were doing was dumb and quickly pulled away when they heard other voices closing in on them. It was Lotte who was wearing a knowing smirk when she saw Alessia’s bright red face and Willa fumbling with her water bottle. “Sorry didn’t mean to interrupt.” Willa shook her head. “No, nothing happened. Just talking. Talking about stuff. Football stuff. With the game. The ball and the goals.” Willa rushed out of the room hiding her blush.

Alessia bit her lip as Lotte looked at her. “You two need a cold shower. Not together.” Lotte shook her head and grabbed some more snacks. “It was just a kiss.” Alessia hit Lotte with her crutch as they headed back into the theatre. Willa and Alessia exchanged glances during the second half, both of them wishing the theatre was empty. Manchester United were down 2-1 until a stoppage time goal from Lindelof, Alessia jumped up and nearly fell as Lotte and Lois held her. “Come on United!” She cheered loudly and looked at Willa. “Now that is how a team comes back!” She kissed the badge on her jersey and Willa smirked and rolled her eyes. The girls began clearing the room, the four Brits were the last in the theatre when Alessia whispered to her friends that she wanted a moment alone with Willa. Alessia made her way over to the coach who had met her in the front row. “So…” Willa started and blushed. “I don’t want to make it a big deal.” Alessia said quickly, this caught Willa off guard slightly. “We kissed and there is clearly something between us. We just maybe have to stay at least a metre apart. I don’t want to get hurt, okay?” Alessia looked up at Willa who just nodded, if that is all she could get for now then that was all she wanted. Alessia kissed Willa on the cheek and headed out of the theatre, Willa sat down on one of the seats and sighed, this could only end one way. 

When Alessia got back to the house with her Dad he had made some dinner, they sat down and ate together, he tried to get some insight as to what his daughter had been up to. “Are you dating anyone? Been dating anyone?” He asked and Alessia laughed. “Oh Dad no. There isn’t really anyone who is datable at UNC.” Mario laughed. “I just want to make sure no guy is out here trying to take advantage of my little girl.” Alessia shook her head with a small smile. “Yeah no guys dad.” After dinner Mario helped Alessia as she struggled with the crutches. She looked through her phone once she settled into bed and began thinking about Willa, she shot off a quick text. ‘Sorry about today. It was a moment of weakness for us as per usual.’ Willa smiled at the text. ‘Yeah I will try not to be so irresistible.’ Alessia laughed as she read the text. ‘Oh yeah Willa Conti super sexy.’ Willa send a picture to Alessia, she was smirking and giving her the finger. Alessia smiled wide and sent one back sticking her finger up. ‘Goodnight, see you on the bus tomorrow.’ Willa locked her phone not looking at the reply. ‘Goodnight Willa x see you tomorrow.’

Willa loaded the bus with all of the gear that they needed, it was going to be a 4 hour bus ride for a doubleheader weekend. The team was excited about the double header and the bus trip, it was going to be a very loud ride. Willa checked off all of the players and saw the blonde striker slowly making her way, Lotte carrying her bag. Willa met up with them and grabbed Alessia’s bag from Lotte. The two young Brits exchanged a look as Willa put Alessia’s bag in the luggage holder. “She could have grabbed mine too.” Lotte mumbled and Alessia tapped her with her crutch. The two got onto the bus and Willa did a final count and confirmed with Anson that everyone was there. As they began heading towards their destination Anson had a chat to the team about the upcoming game and the importance of it, also gave a rundown of each team. The second he sat down the girls began playing music and signing, Willa sat at the front and closed her eyes trying to relax. She felt a body fall into the seat next to her, she turned to see the blonde Brit next to her. “You right there?” Willa opened her eyes and stared at Alessia. “They nearly knocked my leg.” Alessia crossed her arms. “You grumpy now?” Willa looked over at Alessia who just nodded while pouting. Willa laughed and nudged the girl. “Hey at least you can hang out with me now.” Alessia smirked. “Yeah I guess you aren’t horrible to hang out with.” The two chatted about a bunch of random topics until they soon fell onto their common topic, football. Alessia told Willa about her family’s heritage and why she went for Manchester United, Willa told Alessia about her family and why she went for Newcastle United. Willa was purely because she lived in Newcastle, at least Alessia’s was more interesting with her Grandfather coming from Sicily and falling in love with Manchester United. 

Willa put on a thriller movie and handed a headphone to Alessia and she put it in her ear. A lot of the players had started to calm down and do their own thing. Alessia moved closer to Willa as the movie started, their legs touched as they watched. Alessia tried her best to focus on the movie, she stole small glances at the girl next to her. Willa did the exact same thing, trying not to stare at Alessia for too long. “I know you keep looking.” Alessia blushed and looked at Willa who quickly looked away. “Can’t help it.” Willa mumbled. Alessia intertwined their fingers and put her head on Willa’s shoulder. Willa’s whole body was on fire, her heart racing and her focus on the movie long gone. Alessia played with Willa’s fingers, all she could think about was the coach and how perfect this moment was. The bus pulled into a rest stop, “Okay if anyone needs to go to the bathroom, now is your chance.” Willa and Alessia pulled apart and the older girl stretched. The players got off the bus, Willa and Alessia looked at each other for a moment. It was so quiet on the bus, they were the only ones left. “We can’t Willa.” Alessia kept staring at Willa. “I know.” Willa sighed and pulled back. “Sorry.” Willa looked down as Alessia got off the bus. Willa followed a minute later and grabbed some snacks for the second half of the ride. They all got back onto the bus, Alessia went to the back to sit with the other players, Willa sat back in her seat and stared out the window. They both knew what would happen if they were alone for too long.

CHAPTER 7

[shadowhandss60]

Sorry but I’m here to rant…I get so fckin mad when people hate on Manorian and say they were purely lust and had no real bond.They clearly have no reading apprehension because there are straight out lines in the books confirming the opposite and are mad Manorian is way hotter then their boring faves.Of course people have different tastes but I’ll never understand spreading hate and literal misinformations everywhere.I always report on these people…

Also how hooowww can they say they aren’t endgame after Dorian literally saying “There’s only one witch who will be my queen.”…Unbelievable…

THIS.

I can understand how people don’t connect to them because I don’t always connect to ships either, but I think they expect this intense romance like the other ships but their past/traumas don’t give them that luxury and I’m not saying the other ships don’t have that at as well but they allow themselves to open up sooner.

Does it start with some lust? Sure, but that’s not all it is.

(I’m gonna rant a bit)

Dorian is the only main character in the series to never say “I love you” outloud to someone and there’s a huge reason why. We know why Manon is so closed off and not wanting to be vulnerable, even with those she’s known for 100+ years, she doesn’t even say it until Abraxos in KOA.

For Dorian it seems like he’d be someone to say it but in ToG we hear how Dorian did fall for a “fiery” girl (Rosamund I think) and then she left and married another.

Then he falls for Celaena and is ready to “tear the world apart with his bare hands” and wants to tell her he loves her but she breaks it off with him and pushes him away and falls for his best friend (I am not faulting her, just saying what happened) again, making him feel like the second choice.

Then a few books later he finds comfort and love in someone different, someone softer and seemingly more open where he finally feels like he’s the first choice and she’s ripped away from him in one of the most brutal ways, by his own father, while he was helpless after literally BEGGING him to spare her.

Side note this just made me realize what Dorian meant by “I am never begging for anything again.” Because of that outcome, and OUCH

So now he’s had his heart broken over and over again and then immediately after, he’s a slave for months. Forced to torture and kill his friends, while being torn apart internally while he can do nothing about it. He can’t even remember who he was and relives her death over and over and the FIRST reprieve he has is this beautiful woman who gives him his voice and allows him to remember his name after what felt like eons to him.

Then he’s forced back into that darkness and pain when she’s gone, but he latches onto her and her name and holds on after saying he didn’t want to fight and when he was forced to enjoythe pain he caused. Manon thinks of him to pay her debt to Aelin, she thinks of him and can’t even think of why when she checks up on him in Rifthold.

Then in EOS she goes to save him, she feels a part of herself “wake up” at his half smile and his tone, the way he doesn’t balk and doesn’t fear her. She talks about how he has seen death and worse and has that dark part of him that was forced to enjoy it when he was collared and she relates to that because of what she learns about her past in EoS.

Then after everything, he goes to save her as she did with him, no thought of himself, sprinting across the ship and jumping into the ocean so she wouldn’t drown and when he sees that she looks intent on dying he pokes at her and teases her and tries to stoke something in her like she was able to do with him.

She also comforts him without needing to when he talks about how he enjoyed killing the Ilchen and was forced to enjoy killing while collared. Sure, she does it in the Manon way, but he bites right back in the Dorian way and THEN there’s the lust.

Then she sees that part of her that’s drawn to him more physically and let’s her guard down (physically).

Lysandra talks about how she is different and dangerous and everything Dorian shouldn’t want after what he has gone through but everything he needs. She doesn’t judge him, doesn’t pity him or coddle him. He says he’d raze the continent for what was done to Sorscha and Manon accepts and agrees and he’s relieved. We see that fierce protectiveness when he talks about wanting to take time and pleasure in killing her grandmother for hurting her and we see her say he tastes foreign yet familair and allows herself to be vulnerable for the first time in 100+ years.

We see in KoA that they do talk in depth about what his father did to him, what her grandma did to her, what happened to Sorscha and Manon’s sister. We don’t SEE these conversations but we know they happened because of context and the details that are said and I feel like people ignore this.

We see Manon at the most vulnerable she’s ever been, admitting that she cares and admitting she doesn’t want to lose him and how those hours waiting for him to come back on Narene we some of the longest of her life.

There are no grand romantic proclamations (out loud, but if you pay attention in their POVs and how Manon had to fight herself to not fly to morath, “to him” and “there is only one witch will be my queen”…we all know) but those lovey dovey, super open “I love yous “ and “sweet nothings” aren’t who they are.

Manon JUST started to understand that she was capable of caring and Dorian was burned too many times to allow that vulnerability again, he didn’t even open up to Chaol or Aelin at that point.

That’s not who they are and though they were growing to that point in the short time they, the love and care is still there, still in context if you pay attention.

They challenge eachother but listen and respect eachother and accept all aspects even if they don’t always agree and I LOVE their love and the way it’s not blatantly stated but in the nuances of their story.

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk. (I didn’t proofread this so oops)

[aikuse]

chapter 2: umbrella beach

❝ home will always be here, unseen, out of sight, where I disappear and hide. I think dreamy things as I'm waving goodbye, so I'll spread out my wings and fly. ❞

word count: 2,904 content: gn!reader (no pronouns used), alcohol usage (kakucho drinks two rum punches which is his right), south cameo, beaching it jokes about being dead (izana's humor sucks), big tiddy bartender time. a/n: chapter two is here! this is relatively uneventful, mostly just kakucho traveling and being hit on by one of the beach bartenders lol. all the inspo for the room and the resort itself is from this villa in the philippines don't look too hard at that price tag i almost vomited when i saw it lmfao. and reader finally appears! i'm keeping them pretty gender neutral for this go around, but next chapter should be a lil spicy ;) did i mention south cameo??? he's gonna be ooc as hell and i don't care LOL. enjoy!! tags: @qichun @bajisdarling @kenpachisbrat @highpri3stess @fengxun @benkeibear @suyacho @bleach-your-panties @reiners-milkbiddies @honeybleed @mitsuwuyaa

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Kakucho barely recalls the night he left, and in addition, the entirety of the transport that led him here.

He did remember a plane, sitting next to a window with an empty seat beside him, which Izana happily took. A flight attendant had given him something fruity with rum in it, placed in front of him in a shock of red slush and a yellow umbrella on top. She’d said something close to enjoy your drink, but he hadn’t paid much attention to her response, simply nodding and taking a sip. His lips turned. It was all sugar and sweetness; but it felt good. Refreshing.

Izana smiles at him. Don’t like sweet drinks?

“No,” Kakucho says softly, taking another sip and quickly betraying his statement. He takes a moment for the slush to melt on his tongue before shrugging. “Well, alright, it’s pretty damn good.” He was never one for sweet drinks; he preferred whiskey, when he did drink, which was not often due to his past negligence. But hell, he’s on a plane on vacation. He’s allowed a few slip-ups. And one rum punch isn’t going to send him spiraling; this wasn’t a drinking binge under pressure. He was actually enjoying himself.

He’d turned his phone off, purchasing a burner on his way out of Tokyo. As the plane lifted off into the air, he could almost feel the claws of Bonten releasing from him, even just momentarily; he wondered if Rindou had told everyone, breaking his promise (although Rindou’s promises do tend to be pretty shitty in the first place) and stoking a fire. He can almost see it; Ran’s look of fake surprise, Koko’s look of real surprise, Mikey’s indifference as he wastes away at the top of a crime syndicate he never truly cared about in the first place.

He fears when he’ll have to come back. He may be dragged back, or not; either way, he’s hoping that it won’t be brutal. He can handle punishments at the hands of most of the Bonten members; hell, he could probably take many of them on himself. But he did fear them in some capacity; mostly because of how well some of them fit into the lifestyle they’d curated. It was a little terrifying seeing how easily they excused murder, or drug abuse, or using women for nothing more than pleasure. Kakucho wasn’t a prude by any means; but the way he’d seen some of them, especially Takeomi, treat some of the women they’d had at clubs put a horrible taste into his mouth.

Izana’s face comes into his frame of sight. You’re thinking too hard. They can function without you for as long as you need. Stop worrying about it.

Kakucho scoffs, blinking as he drags himself out of the spiral he’d certainly have fallen into if Izana hadn’t said something. “Probably. They’ll be at each other’s throats, I’d bet. That’s a sight I’ll miss seeing.” Thinking of Rindou with his shocking purple hair and glasses, easily a foot shorter than everyone else present, glaring up at Ran and Takeomi, Koko attempting to barter for a better sentencing, was both terrifying and hilarious. Him and Rindou had never been close, but he did happen to be the lesser of two evils. Although that wasn’t saying much, anyway.

The plane touches down so gently that Kakucho barely registers they’ve landed until he looks out the window.

He fully expects the concrete jungle of Tokyo, but instead, there’s appearances of green with the ocean spreading out to the horizon in front of him. The salty sea air stings his nostrils as he leaves the plane, Izana right next to him as he bounds down the stairs. Kakucho knows he didn’t grow up here, but he definitely feels a sense of home here nonetheless. Like how ghosts who didn’t live in one place but were culturally from somewhere else get their ashes spread there…something like that.

He breezes through baggage claim and getting to the resort is blurry; something about the driver knowing him with a wink, tinted windows making sure the glare of the sun doesn’t bother him so much, the receptionist smiling at him as he checks in, and finally, he stands in front of the door to his room. He has an extended stay for three months; Izana made sure that he booked for longer than his original two weeks. Two weeks wouldn’t be nearly enough to make him feel better.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth at the view.

Everywhere he looks, there’s a view of the sparkling blue ocean. Tropical birds perch on the windowsill, and fly off with sweet chirps as he enters, placing his bags on the floor. The smell of the sea is strong, but it smells cleaner than Tokyo; his mind is already more at ease. Izana follows him closely, flopping onto the bed. It doesn’t indent beneath him; another reminder that he’s not really here.

It’s so pretty here.

Kakucho hums, wandering out onto the porch as he lights a cigarette. The receptionist had stated this was a smoke-free resort, but Kakucho didn’t care. He was in his room, and he’s sure there’s a note on that reservation detailing who he is. Even so, he’ll pay the fee if he needs to as he takes a long drag, leaning on the window. Izana wanders over to him after leaving the bedroom, taking up residence on the chair next to him, settling in nicely as his eyes slide shut.

The sun hits his face, warm and cozy, just like the day where he’d last spoken to Koko.

For the first time in months, Kakucho smiles.

Kakucho’s sleep that night is nothing notable.

He awakens early, as he usually does, wandering down to the café for a pastry in his slides and board shorts, a Hawaiian shirt hanging off of his frame. He doesn’t bother buttoning it up; he’ll be on the beach soon enough, anyway. The pastries lined up on the table are light, tasting like sugar and cream and air as he bites into one. Izana watches him longingly, and Kakucho can’t help but chuckle.

“Missing real food, huh?”

Izana rolls his eyes.

Shut up. It’s one of the shitty things about being dead, you know. You’ll find out when you finally decide to die.

Kakucho laughs out loud at that, with Izana’s eyes glittering with humor at the jest. “Yeah, if I decide to die,” he says, gathering his things and walking towards the door to the beach, “and that’s an if. What if I just decide to live forever? Who’s gonna stop me?”

Izana doesn’t miss a beat. Rindou. Or Koko.

“Really? Rindou, my ‘good friend’? Sounds about right.”

The shorter man hums, but doesn’t comment on it. He knows better, Kakucho thinks; Rindou would sell him for a nice piece of paper if he had the means. And Koko? If he got a good enough deal…Kakucho was expendable, he knows that, even if the boys made it strongly known that he wasn’t. Their obsession into the topic only gave it away.

The sand is hot underneath Kakucho’s feet as he precariously ventures out; white sand being hot was a new one for him, but he acclimates to it quickly as he approaches one of the many lawn chairs strewn out. Sunscreen stings his nose as he removes his shirt, spraying it all over himself. Izana takes his place in the seat next to him, smirking at Kakucho’s effort of reaching the small of his back to rub in the sunscreen.

See, there’s a perk. I don’t have to wear sunscreen because I can’t get burnt.

“Wow,” Kakucho says, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “what a great perk of being dead. I’ll definitely enjoy not being burnt by the sun when I’m gone.”

The morning goes by quickly, the beach filling up with more people as the day drags on. Kakucho manages to get some sleep on the chair, before watching a group set up a volleyball net and draw out a field in front of him. They seem around his age, definitely here on their parents’ dime with the tans and expensive sunglasses and bikinis on some of the girls. One guy has a sprawling black tattoo, not unlike Rindou’s now that he thinks about it, spiraling up the side of his face and head.

After a while of watching them try and fail to successfully do a serve, Kakucho gets up to venture to the bar. Sweat makes his shirt stick to his back, so he removes it, leaving it behind. “Don’t go anywhere,” he jokes at Izana, who rolls his eyes again. Fuck off.

At the bar, the pretty bartender bats her eyelashes at him as he slides into a seat. She’s pretty, long black hair sticking to her skin from the heat, a sheen of sweat glistening along her body. Her blue bikini is working overtime to restrain her breasts that are threatening to spill out from the small cups, the bottom’s strings peeking out above her jean shorts.

“What’ll ya have, gorgeous?” she asks, her lip gloss shining in the sunlight as Kakucho’s gaze travels along the liquor bottles, “Can get ya a simple rum punch if ya want. It’s all the rage at the beach, of course.”

Kakucho nods, humming. “Sure. I’ll take two.”

She scrunches her eyebrows, as if looking around to see if he’s here with somebody. “For you and…?”

“Me and me. I deserve two of these, trust me.”

She giggles to herself as she grabs the rum. “You got a point there, pretty boy. What are ya doing here? Vacationing?”

Kakucho sighs. “Something like that. Just needed to get away.”

A hum. “Yeah, that’s what most of these people are doing. That, and using their trust fund parents’ money. Oh well, it keeps me in a job, even if they’re all a pain in the ass.”

She serves up the two rum punches with little umbrellas in them, before giving him another flashing smile. “Drink up! Feel free to come back for more.” With a wink, she wanders off to the other side of the bar, where a few middle-aged men are yelling for what’s on draft. She swings her hips as she does so, her thighs jiggling as she walks; Kakucho knows that tactic, he’s not stupid. He scoffs, grabbing his drinks, and leaving the bar. Little does she know that he’s not here for that; although her calling him pretty boy did make his chest twinge. Just a little bit.

The sand is hot underneath his feet again, having been in the shade for a few moments to lose the acclimation, and he tiptoes back to the chairs where Izana is waiting. He lifts up the drinks, smiling to himself, and—

“FUCK!”

Something hits him smack in the face, and he stumbles back, blinking in shock. His vision is blurry, but as he grips the drinks in his hands, he’s managed to not spill any of it. Thank God, because that would require another trip to the slutty bartender, and he’s really not ready to be objectified again. As he blinks rapidly for his vision to return, a figure swims in his vision, rapidly approaching him.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” a voice says. It’s feminine, middle pitch, and as his vision focuses…

He almost drops the drinks from that alone.

He barely has time to process the person in front of him before they’re yapping again, apologizing profusely as their hand grabs onto his arm, leading him back to where his chair is, sitting on the chair next to him. Kakucho’s vision finally comes back fully, and he takes in the sight in front of him. Izana has moved from the chair to stand behind him, red rage radiating off of him in waves.

All he can think of is pretty.

You’re gorgeous, hair tied up in a bun, baby hairs flying away, cheeks flushed from exertion and sweat covering your skin. Your bikini is a nice cerulean blue, matching well with your tan, gym shorts low on your hips. You’re saying something about how you suck at volleyball and you really should have noticed Kakucho was right there before you’d served, and—

He places the drinks down and grabs your hands. Your eyes go wide.

“It’s fine…uh—”

You say your name with a smile, sheepishly.

He smiles back. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kakucho. Probably not the best way to introduce yourself to someone, yeah? If you wanted to say hi, you could’ve found a…less violent way.”

You throw your head back in a laugh. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Although it did get your attention, I guess, right?” you shoot back, one of your eyebrows high on your forehead. He doesn’t respond at once, and you look back down at his hands wrapped around your wrists. “You gonna let go or do you do this to all the girls you meet?”

Kakucho’s face goes bright red, he can feel the burning as he rips his hands away, like he’s been stung. “Right, yeah, sorry,” he mumbles, and you laugh again. Your laugh is so pretty; like a wind chime. “No worries, I probably just gave you a concussion anyway. I can imagine you feel a little shaken up.”

There’s a beat of silence after you’re done speaking, and you take up the silence again. It’s clear you like to talk as you start again. “I’m gonna sit here with you if that’s alright. Feels like I should since I injured you and all that, and again, I’m no good at volleyball.”

“I’ll say,” Kakucho says, taking a sip of the rum punch, humming as the chill hits the back of his throat, “what are you guys here for, by the way? Vacation?”

You nod. “Yeah, South’s dad got us a few months here to hang out during the summer. It was either this or Rio, and South wasn’t very keen on going back. So, we decided on here.”

Kakucho nods again. “Rio de Janeiro, I assume? Who’s South?”

You point to the guy with the massive tattoo, who serves the ball and smashes it right into one of the other guys, who doubles over with a howl. South’s face splits into a massive smile as he grabs the girl next to him, pressing a messy kiss to her forehead as she giggles, attempting to push him away. He seems alright. Kind of like someone I know…

You two chat for a little longer, finding out what your backgrounds are. He thinks it’s part of a concussion test; if he can recall what he does and who he is, that’s probably a good sign there’s no brain damage. Turns out, you’re a student at one of the universities in Tokyo, studying some fancy subject that Kakucho didn’t really understand.

The sun is well past its zenith when Kakucho hears South calling for you, and he’s almost finished his rum punch when he nods at him. “Looks like your group’s leaving.”

You look over and wave, before looking back at Kakucho, smiling. “Yeah. See you around?” you ask, gathering yourself as you stand up. Kakucho nods, giving you his room number. “In case you get bored. I do have a cool patio bath thing I’ve been meaning to try out,” he says, and at your raised eyebrows, he swallows, “but no rush. Don’t want to seem weird. You just…feel like a breath of fresh air. Sorry if that’s a little weird.”

Your eyes shine as you smile at him. He wishes he could take a picture of you like that, frozen in time, happy.

You run off, joining South and the others as they wander off the beach, their things in tow. He watches you until your group is specks on the horizon, wandering back to the other side of the resort from him. He’s not sure you’ll come see him later, but the thought of you doing so makes him feel a little giddy.

In all honesty, Kakucho isn’t sure what he’s feeling, but it’s not just a friendly stranger feeling of meeting someone new. No, there’s something else. his chest feels tight, unusually tight as he sips his second rum punch, the alcohol loosening him up. Izana says nothing, taking up the spot you’d left on the chair again, staring off into the ocean.

Something fated, something that feels meant to be about all of this. Stars aligning and whatnot.

Whatever it is, he is certainly not ready for what is to come.

divider credit: @/benkeibear for the mdni banner and the gradient dividers!

disclaimer: please do not copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

© kakuchari 2024

[magpies-gold]

Back From Mysterium

I did a very small couple of posts before this, but Saturday at Mysterium blew my expectations out of the water, and so I decided I needed to circle back around and try again as a much bigger post.

First, foremost, and coolest - yes! I got to meet Rand Miller (bonus infamous RAWA just to the left as well)! Even better, for once in my life my social anxiety didn't turn me into a non-verbal lump and I was able to say a grand total of two full sentences and a greeting. If you know me at all, then you know that that's quite the accomplishment. Usually @timmcosplay has to do the talking for me when I inevitably choke on my own tongue, but by a quirk of fate we got separated (he wanted to get our Book of Ti'ana signed and got yoinked into a different line up from me, who wanted photo evidence) and I had no choice but to attempt to be a functional human. My theory is that I've talked to Rand's face so many times during the intro to Riven (I always talk back) that it was just second nature to say hello the second he looked at me. Genuinely, though, he's so kind and so patient and I'm stoked that he made time to meet all of us and then spend a couple hours even after that being a presenter and answering heaps of questions.

Tim may have not been with me directly, but he was still creeping in the sidelines getting photos of me getting photo'd and briefly chatting. ;)

Ultimately, we were split into three groups and everyone ran through the events of the day in a different order.

Tim and I were on Team Ytram (or Team Forg as I insisted on calling it) and had little Rivenese froggos on our badges.

After the meet and greet, we got lunch. It was simplistic fare, but the fact that we got hot dogs and Cool Ranch Doritos out back of the Cyan HQ means that they were very special hot dogs and Cool Ranch Doritos. Legendary!

And then... they actually allowed my wee goblin self and Tim to go through the iconic archway entrance and to scramble around their actual studio. I've seen pictures of the place on the internet before and knew how neat it would be to some degree, but now I know where everything is!

In no particular order....

Iconic signage and that giant honkin' Moiety dagger that Adam Savage apparently worked on?? It is truly large in person!

Costumes from Riven! Including Catherine's dress, which I remember my mom was always cooing over when I was playing the game on my clonky PC in the late 90's, and Gehn's costume, with Tim posing (and having not totally slightly held up the rest of the group by getting detail shots for cosplay purposes, no, no, he wouldn't do that....)

Art! Design sketches and THE MAP.

The infamous elevator wherein you'd better know your D'ni numbers if you want to get anywhere (I would get stuck).

And then... artifacts!

They had THE LEVER from the beginning of Riven. Did it never occur to me that the lever was a real lever? THE LEVER IS A REAL LEVER.

Plus there were goggles and books and Gehn's gun (AKA the only Game Over inducing object in Riven) and more character design sketches with actual costume fabric swatches! That last bit made Tim make high pitched glee noises, as someone who both designs and makes costumes himself.

There were presentations after all of that. Trailers, talks, a non-profit project to digitize over a hundred hours of behind the scenes footage from the making of Uru and Riven and other things, which we got a sneak peek of. They showed off a snippet of the remake of Riven. There was just so much. It was hours and hours and I was practically vi-bra-ting by the time we finally were ushered back to the bus and back to Spokane.

I will never entirely get over the fact that I was able to go see all that with my own two eyeballs. As someone who's been enamoured with the universe surrounding Myst island for the full 30 years of its existence, ever since I was 8 years old, who used to make big calligraphy posters of passages from The Book of Atrus and The Book of Ti'ana and tape them up all over Thorhild Central School whether my fellow students and teachers wanted me to or not, and who was so solidly influenced by the idea of books as literal doors to other worlds that it became a foundation for how I view my own characters and stories (namely that I'm no god, and they do have a life all their own), this is a treasured memory.

[museqmeg]

Reporter’s Notes - Epilogue

A vashmeryl fic

————————————————————————————————————

Meryl stared down at the newly printed Bernardelli issue. The heat from the press still warming her hands, seeping into her skin, and stoking the fire within her. That boiling-hot anger at what she read made her face flush. Her eyes scanned the words, not her own, but her’s and Roberto’s information wholly taken out of context…

“HUMANOID TYPHOON TURNED ANGEL OF DEATH DESTROYS JULAI

A team of investigative journalists from Bernardelli witnessed the destruction and death of JuLai firsthand. They traveled with the Humanoid Typhoon for two months, starting with the disaster at Jeneora Rock until the devastating loss of JuLai. Unfortunately, one of our long-time senior reporters, Roberto de Niro, was caught in the Typhoon and lost to us. (His career highlights and obituary can be found on page 4.)

How could someone kill one of his traveling companions? He is clearly a devil, a bringer of death, with no value for human life. Officials and rescue parties at the site of what is left of JuLai have found few survivors and no trace of the monster known as Vash the Stampede.”

Meryl couldn’t continue reading the article. Her rage at the damning words they used to describe Vash and the untruth written before her made it difficult for her eyes to focus. They had it all wrong. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t Vash at all…

She looked at the photo they used for him. One of the only things they took from her to include in the story. It was also completely out of context. She remembered that day, they had stopped to camp for the evening and Vash expressed the need to exert himself and stretch after being in the truck for hours. He had taken off his coat and glasses, stretching his body and warming it up before snapping into a flow of combat movements, his gun out and part of his body…

—------------------------------------

Meryl walked over to Vash’s practice area, finding a rock to perch on and watch. She always considered him graceful in his movements, if not a little silly sometimes. It was probably his tall frame and long limbs. Whenever she saw him in combat or practice, she felt like she was peeking into something she shouldn’t be looking at. She couldn’t look away, the lines he created with himself were mesmerizing. It was rare when she caught him without his coat and in combat mode. While she knew his true nature, she couldn’t help but think how intimidating and dangerous he looked. His tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular body was on full display. His movements with his gun always perplexed her. He wasn’t using it as a gun. He swung it around, spinning it in his hand. Most times, it was in a strange position flush against his forearm as he wielded it. She couldn’t understand his use of the weapon and her voice spoke out before she could think.

“Hey, Vash?”

He stopped mid-lunge, turning to face her as he lightly panted and his face glistened with sweat. “Yeah, Meryl?” He locked eyes with her, his gaze was intense from the mental state he must have been in as he worked himself through his motions.

Meryl gulped. He looked so intimidating and the teal cerulean of his eyes were piercing her without his glasses. She realized that the round lenses really softened his face. “Why do you use your gun like that?” She pointed to it as it hung loose at his side, still angled up his forearm.

He looked down at it before looking back to her and softening his gaze. “Because it’s better than me shooting someone.” A little half-smile came across his face as he angled his head.

Meryl nodded, that made sense with his character, “Yes, but why do you use it like that? The way you handle it is strange…”

His eyes brightened as he realized the true meaning of her question, “Oh! I use it as a tonfa.”

“A what?” She tilted her head, confused.

“A tonfa… it’s a type of weapon used in martial arts. Like a baton.” He gave her an encouraging smile.

“Oh, okay… Where did you learn that?” Her voice was curious.

He shrugged, “Years ago… I wanted the option to disarm someone that didn’t require me to really hurt them if I could prevent it.”

Meryl nodded but then stopped, realization dawning on her… He was always actively holding back. She looked at him, thinking about how he presented himself and treated others. He knew he was dangerous and had to actively keep it quelled. He repressed that part of himself unless he was forced to use it. These little exertions were a way he kept himself in check and precise. While the thought made her a little uneasy, she smiled back at him, nodding that she was done asking him questions and he could continue.

He smiled at her before spinning on a heel, lowering himself as he went back into a lunge. She continued watching him flow through his movements when an idea struck her. Her hands went to her camera resting on her hip, the strap over her left shoulder. She checked the lens and adjusted the settings to a faster shutter speed to capture his movements.

With her eyes in the lens and zoomed in, she was too focused on keeping him in frame until she heard the crunch of his boots in the rocks and sand directly in front of her. He must have heard the clicks of her shutter. She lifted her head from the camera and found his face in front of her, teal gaze intense, his body still in combat form but directed at her. She gulped, accidentally snapping that photo of him, unable to move or look away as he slowly brought his fisted prosthetic forward, lightly bumping her stomach.

His face split into a wide grin as he said, “Gotcha!” Throwing himself into a fit of giggles at his prank.

Meryl spluttered, air whooshing from her lungs now that she could release the tension he had caused. “Vash! That wasn’t funny!” She glowered at him.

He continued laughing as he tucked his gun in its holster before plopping himself next to her on the rock. He wrapped his prosthetic around her waist, squeezing her against his body. His other hand grabbed the camera from her as he brought his face down to her level, pressing her cheek against his sweaty one, and turned the lens to face them. He grinned wide as he snapped a photo, Meryl’s face surprised and eyes wide.

He was still chuckling when he handed the camera back to her and stood up. “Make sure to give me a copy of that one when you develop the film!”

She watched as he walked away, her face beet red and still in shock at his antics. He collected his red coat and amber glasses from where he left them. She could still see his shoulders shaking from his laughter as he walked over to Roberto and Wolfwood sitting at the campfire.

—------------------------------------

She felt like a failure. She had promised that she would clear his name. She looked down at the photo Bernardelli printed with the article. It was the one before he had accosted her camera and snapped a photo of them both. The Vash in that photo was the real Vash, not the deadly intense one looking at her now. At least not the version of himself he liked to present. She should have never taken any of those pictures of him in combat, practice or not. She felt guilt and shame for doing it. Especially when that innocent moment was being used to drag his reputation and memory through the mud.

When she returned to December and the Bernardelli headquarters months after losing Vash and Roberto, she was determined to write Vash’s story and share his sunshine with the world. Angry tears welled up at the memory of her boss telling her that story wouldn’t sell papers and that they had the December government breathing down their neck. With JuLai gone, December was now the largest of the six cities. December’s government quickly made an address to blame Vash and upped his bounty to sixty billion double dollars, dead or alive. Had Meryl not seen him plummet and hit JuLai herself, the pain and fear at his new wanted poster even asking for him “dead,” still made her chest seize with pain. In a small way, it was a mercy that he had died at JuLai. Meryl couldn’t bear the thought of how much more difficult his on-the-run life would have been when the humans he loved so much now hated him enough to want him dead. Life had been unspeakably cruel to Vash. He didn’t deserve any of it. A voice tore Meryl out of her thoughts. It was her boss.

“Meryl, would you come to my office please?”

She wiped her eyes before turning to face him, “Sure.” She followed, ignoring the looks from her coworkers. They had all read her draft of the Vash the Stampede story, of what really happened in JuLai, yet they quickly believed the story they concocted together off her words. She crinkled and fisted the article in her hand. Lies…

They entered his office and she sat in the seat in front of his desk, looking down at the floor.

He sat down in his chair before speaking to her, “Meryl… I know you’re angry about the Humanoid Typhoon story, but we needed to partner with December’s government. They have just been hit with the burden of what the JuLai government shouldered… This was the best way to give the people who lost so much from the incident a chance at peace.”

Meryl’s head shot up, “Peace? Adding kindling to their flames of contempt and revenge is peace?”

Her boss grimaced back, trying to be gentle with her, “Meryl, he’s dead. He’s not around to feel the contempt and hate. December needs someone to blame and… Vash the Stampede was already a familiar face. No one knows this “Millions Knives” you wrote about. Not to mention, your story around him was too humanizing.

December needs a villain. Humanity needs a villain. The loss of JuLai wasn’t just about the people that died there… Humanity lost thousands of plants. Our survival is now more precarious than ever.”

Meryl clenched her fists resting on her thighs, knowing in some way, Vash would accept this blame put on him. Even welcome it. He was so self-sacrificing and he loved humans that much. It broke her heart… How Vash always sought to see the best in others. Even though she didn’t truly know Knives and he had tried to kill her, Vash still tried to save him. Vash had still loved his brother. She had believed and trusted in Vash. As hard as it was, she believed in both of them, for Vash’s sake. Even if Knives was so wrong in how he went about his convictions. It was the right way to honor him.

She looked up, “So what now? What will you have me do?”

He gave her a small smile, “We’d like to make it up to you… for twisting your story. When you joined us, you mentioned wanting to be at the news desk. We’d be happy to offer that to you.”

She shook her head, “No… I want to continue to be an investigative journalist. I want to continue Roberto’s legacy. I also want the truck and trailer that was assigned to us.”

He nodded, understanding, “Consider it done. Meryl, please know that I’m deeply sorry for how all of this played out.”

“I am too.” She stood, leaving his office and ending the conversation.

—————————————

Vash walked.

The desert sand under his boots gave way to his weight and unsteady gait. His only hand clutched his broken ribs as each step sent pain coursing through him.

He remembered how angry he was that his body awoke and healed parts of itself. He really had hoped that the darkness that consumed him would finally be eternal, complete oblivion. The pain of living on after what had happened was more than he could bear.

He had made himself get up. Not wanting someone to find him, take pity on him, and help him. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t want it. It was moments like this that made him hate what he was as a plant. His powers not allowing the human parts of his body to simply die. It was miserable, being this. A long life and a healing body were not the dream humans talked about when they referred to the “fountain of youth.” It was a curse. It was pain. It was suffering.

Now his only hope was that he stayed conscious long enough to walk the energy and life out of his body. It was taking everything he had to hold the plant abilities at bay. He pushed it down, cursing it to stop healing him.

He reached up to his face, ripping off his cracked glasses and throwing them in the sand. It wasn’t like he could use them anymore. Peace Bringer was gone, absorbed into that demonic arm of his with the cube and the violet hue was all wrong for shooting. Not like he would raise a gun again. He had taken too many lives, caused too much pain.

Vash also took off his earring, it reminded him of her. Thinking of her hurt too much. He was going to throw it, but it felt like a betrayal. He would never throw her away. Instead he clumsily opened his inner breast pocket with one hand, tucking it into his pocket holding her reporter’s notes and violet geranium. He continued walking as he slowly felt his body start to break down. Could this finally be it? Could the pain finally go away? He took another step as his legs crumbled beneath him. He landed face first in the sand, unable to get up as a heavy darkness blanketed him.

——————————————

Eriks walked behind Lina, watching the young girl bounce and bob as she animatedly chattered about the meals they were going to make with the food they both carried. They were on their way home to her grandmother’s from their little errand in town. He was half listening when his teal eyes stopped at a news stand, a familiar name calling out to him. He froze, unbelieving, as his breathing stopped. He took a cautious step closer, not daring to allow the hope to rise in his chest.

Lina turned when she didn’t hear his footsteps behind her. “Eriks?” Her eyes found him at the news stand, staring. She approached him, “Did you want to read that?”

He nodded without thinking. He never asked them for anything… but that was the problem when it came to her. He was incredibly selfish.

Lina brightened, excited that he wanted something for himself. It had been a year since they found him in the sand and he had never been assuming or wanting of anything. She was only twelve, but she could see that he went out of his way to not bother anyone and always did what was asked around the house, never complaining. Honestly, it annoyed her sometimes and made her feel guilty when she rebelled against her grandmother. He was too much a goody-two-shoes. She loved him dearly though. He was so kind to her and her grandmother. His thoughtful words to her filled a hole in her heart. She had always wanted siblings, but since her parents died and her grandmother took care of her, that would never be. That is, until she found him.

Her grandmother was frustrated and worried when she and a group of men hauled Eriks into their home. She had brought home sick puppies and kittens before that her grandmother wouldn’t let her keep. Lina was so happy when her grandmother took one look at him and rushed to help. They nursed him back to health and learned that he had no memory of what happened to him. Over time, they both saw how caring and compassionate he was, even if was sullen and sad. They settled into a routine together and became a family. Lina was overjoyed to keep him finally have a big brother. He was so much better than a lost puppy.

Her heart filled with warmth at that memory as she said, “I’ll buy that for you if you want. It’s only two double dollars.”

He nodded again and she excitedly got into her coin purse, so happy to finally get the opportunity to gift him something.

Eriks spoke softly, “Do you think we can get a subscription to this publication?” He was pointing at the paper with the name, “Bernardelli” at the top.

Lina’s eyes brightened at his request. Even though it was such a small ask for a yearly newspaper subscription, it was most he ever requested from them. She felt like he was finally opening himself up a little.

She eagerly reached for the bills in her purse, walking up to the stand to purchase the paper and register their household to its subscription. She turned to Eriks when she was done, plucking the paper from the and handing it to him. “For you!” She smiled brightly at him, her grin so wide it made her eyes squint and close. Lina felt his only arm wrap around her, hugging her to him and the low rumble of his tenor against her as he softly said, “Thank you.”

She hugged his tall frame around his waist, burning her face into his front as she nodded. It made her so happy to give him something he wanted.

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Ericks was back in his room at Lina’s and her grandmother’s home, clutching the newspaper to his chest. He had excused himself from dinner and shut his door behind him. He held it out in front of him and let his eyes fall onto her name… Meryl Strife. His eyes scanned down to her photo above the article she had written. She had his earrings on. Their silver bars and hoops glinting from the camera flash. His breath caught and his legs gave out. She was alive… he didn’t kill her. He hugged the paper to him as if he was clutching her, little choked sobs coming out of him. He kneeled and cried softly like that for a long time, relief and joy consuming his body for the first time since he saw Wolfwood rescue her from her fall in JuLai. Wolfwood had gotten them both out. They both were alive…. Did Roberto get out too? He held the paper out in front of himself, looking at her again. She was still so beautiful, the kindness still in her eyes.

He read her article, a little story about a small town struggling with their plant and having to resort to wind power to lighten the load on his sister. It was a success and their plant was able to recover. He chuckled, smiling through the tears. Meryl had stayed in that town until the issue was resolved. A little happy sob came out of him, knowing she probably helped too. She was still an investigative reporter and using her little bit of influence to help others. He was so full of love and pride at seeing her and reading her story.

He stood up and walked to his dresser, pulling out a pair of scissors to carefully cut out her article with his one hand. He kneeled down to his bed, crouching to reach the box he had stored underneath. His hair was shaggier now, his undercut scruffy like his teenage years and his lighter, blonde waves falling in front of his eyes as he pulled out the box.

He opened it after a year of tucking the box away. Inside was his Project SEEDS coat, still black and violet from JuLai, but he kept it to hold his precious memories of her. He pulled the box to himself, bowing his head down to the left breast pocket where her notes and geranium lay. Another happy sob escaped him. This coat was no longer a grave for her. He sat up, pulling the coat to himself and hugging it closely. She was alive. He sniffled, setting the coat back down to open the pocket and place her article inside with his other treasures of her. His right hand palmed over the pocket, bracing his body with his arm as he curled over it, crying with relief.

He was still guilty for what happened in JuLai, for killing everyone else and his brother. But he was selfish, he allowed himself to be happy that her life was spared. He would never be able to thank Wolfwood enough. Not that he’d ever allow himself to see either of them again. He didn’t deserve to after what he had done. He still felt terrible about lying to Lina, her grandmother, and this town about who he was and what he didn’t remember. He was just a coward. He remembered. He chose to lie about his past and who he was.

Now, he was just trying to atone by doing whatever he could for this small family. They had saved him and loved him, he owed them anything they needed from him.

He loved them too. That was also the reason he lied. It was always his selfish need for love, but he was the most selfish when it came to Meryl. He longed for her touch, her comfort, but knew he didn’t deserve it. He would only allow himself his memories of her with him, what lay in his coat, and the articles that would be coming each week with Lina’s gift.

He hugged the coat to himself again, silent tears falling as he thought of Meryl living and breathing, her heart still beating like his was now.

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Meryl drove, leaving her memorial of Vash and Roberto behind in JuLai. While she was excited to get her own “newbie,” being back there had dampened her mood. Yes, two years had passed since losing them both, but it still hurt. She still grieved. She sighed, feeling some tears well up and slowed the truck down to a stop. She rested her forehead on the steering wheel, her hands gripping it above her head, letting the silent tears fall.

Zazie’s words didn’t help matters, reminding her of the villain humanity painted onto Vash. It’s what her main focus was as an investigative journalist, her promise to clear Vash’s name. She followed leads and claims of sightings of “Vash the Stampede,” driving out to each location. Most of the time it was outlaws using his name to their benefit. Whether it was to steal or kill, the mention of the Humanoid Typhoon had a powerful effect, especially after JuLai. She had to work so hard to debunk those claims and unveil the truth… but slowly, with each town and person she met, she was able to share the real Vash with the humans he had loved. That’s how she honored his memory… by following through on her promise. She always took it step further and did her best to convince people to believe in him as she had, turning the unrequited love he had for them into reciprocation. It was very few who bought into her story, but with each person that openly listened to her, she felt like she was doing her best to carry out his hopes and dreams. The ones he had shouldered from his mother, Rem. She would do that for him until she no longer lived.

She sat up from the steering wheel, reaching over into the seat next to her to grab a thick envelope. She always kept it close, especially for moments like these. Her tears were done and she breathed, opening it to pull the memories of those impactful two months. Meryl smiled down at them, cherishing each moment in those snapshots…

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Thank you all so much for reading my little vashmeryl fic! Donuts to all of you who made it to the end!

It would mean a lot to me, now that it is finished, to hear your favorite moments from Reporter’s Notes and Sheets. ❤️

I have some special news to share….

I am writing a filler fic to this filler fic, that will be titled, “Snapshots” - see what I did there? (Check out the last word of the fic.) I still have some fluffy vashmeryl moments I have tucked away in my pocket that can be inserted into Tristamp, but they’ll be quite light and won’t have as much weight as the chapters I wrote in Reporter’s Notes.

Also! I am currently illustrating ALL of the chapters in Reporter’s Notes and Sheets. I will post on my Twitter and Tumblr accounts when those chapters are updated with art. You can follow me on either @museqmeg to get the updates.

Once Snapshots and all the illustrations are done, I will be releasing Reporter’s Notes as a comprehensive fic via eBook to download for FREE.

Again, thank you all! This was the first fanfic I ever published and your support was so heartwarming!