#i was wheezing and crying watching it last night
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fryday · 9 months ago
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i just woke up and everything from that video ACTUALLY feels like a fever dream
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blackbirdi · 9 months ago
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Batfamily Incorrect Quotes #1
~~~~~~~~~~~
Jason: *Blatantly falls*
Dick: Did you just fall?
Jason: No! I … attacked the floor.
Dick: Backwards?
Jason: I’m fuckin’ talented, okay!?
———————————
*Meeting Steph for the first time*
Bruce: Hold on, I don’t believe I caught your name.
Steph: I didn’t throw it.
Bruce:
———————————
Jason: Duke’s crying. What do I do?
Dick: Comfort him.
Jason: How?
Dick: Start with a hug.
Jason: … A - a what?
Dick: You need love.
———————————
Steph: You’re bleeding out a lot and Alfred says you need a blood transfusion. What’s your blood type?
Tim: *Wheezing* B … positive …
Steph: *Panicking* I-I’m trying, but you’re bleeding a lot!
Tim: *Stops wheezing and looks up at her in confusion* What?
———————————
Steph: Four months…
The rest of the Batfam: *Turning to Cass* What’s she talking about?
Cass: *Giggling slightly* Oh, it’s nothing.
Steph: THAT’S HOW FUCKING LONG YOU ALL STOOD THERE. WATCHING ME. WATER A FUCKING PLASTIC PLANT!
Cass: *Cackles*
———————————
Jason: What happens to nitrogen when the sun rises?
Steph: It becomes *finger guns* daytrogen.
Jason: *Groans* I’m going home.
Duke: Good nitrogen.
Dick: Sleep tightrogen.
Tim: Don’t let the bedbugs bitrogen.
Jason: *Angry screaming as he walks away*
———————————
Bruce: Damn; the power went out again.
Young!Dick: Don’t worry, I got this. *Shakes* See? *Glows*
Bruce, concerned DadTM: WHAT!?
Young!Dick: *Proud* I swallowed a glowstick!
Bruce: *Stressed the fuck out* WHY WOULD YOU SWALLOW A GLOWSTICK!?
———————————
Literally anyone in the Batfam: How much sleep did you get last night?
Tim: I got a solid eight minutes. Not consecutively. But you’re not even that blurry.
———————————
Damian: How do I tell Drake I want to hit him with a chair?
Jason: Don’t tell him, just do it.
———————————
Dick: How would it feel to have a knife shoved up your ass?
Jason: Keep asking dumbass questions like that and you’ll have an answer.
Dick: *Backs away slowly*
———————————
Dick: Okay, everyone, let’s hug it out now!
Everyone else: *Grumbling as they group hug*
Bruce: Okay, who took my wallet?
Steph: *Whispering as she pockets it* Sorry.
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snaileer · 8 months ago
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Time Unsolved
Dp Unsolved
“Today on Buzzfeed unsolved we cover the Timely Disappearance of Charles T. Williamsworth.”
Danny slurped loudly on his drink as the intro played. Was he maybe crazy for watching a Buzzfeed Unsolved True Crime alone, at night? Maybe.
But Danny had been attacked by ghosts. What was a human gonna do that Skulker couldn’t?
“What a name!” Shane cut in immediately, the video showing him seated at their table holding a cup of coffee. Ryan laughed.
“‘Ello, yes, my name is Sir Charles T. Williamsworth, how art thou? Ah yes, jolly good!” Shane mimicked with a horrifically bad posh British accent.
Ryan laughed harder, “We’ve been to London, they don’t sound like that!” He said between laughs.
“Uh, he does! There’s no way a man with a name like that is not ‘mm yes I will take a spot of tea with my biscuit thank you.’ I’m calling it, he definitely talked like that!”
Danny smiled at the antics as Ryan wheezed, “Well it’s too bad we’ll never know for sure then isn’t it, what with his disappearance, y’know what we’re actually here to talk about.”
“That’s okay. I’ll know. I know my buddy Charles.”
“Alright then.”
Ryan flicked his file open as Shane took a sip from his coffee.
The screen lit up with an image of a man on a black backdrop.
“The Williamsworths were a French-German family who moved to Biel, Switzerland in early 1914, just months before the largest war in European history kicked off.
They were one of the lucky few families to have left France before the war broke out…”
“Oh a family moving, that’s suspicious now?”Shane cut in, yellow words typing themself across the screen.
“Well, it was right before World War 1, I mean the timing is kind of suspicious.” Ryan replied in blue.
-People move, Ryan.-
-Okay, okay, it’s just the facts of the case,.-
Danny rolled his eyes, ready for the story to continue.
The images came back.
“This move would evidently prove to be quite fortunate for the family for obvious reasons. However, it also led Charles to find his true passion: … Watchmaking.”
There was a pause as a map of Switzerland came on screen. “Biel, the town that Charles would live in for the majority of his recorded younger life, was known for watchmaking, being one of several in the heart of an area named ‘Watch Valley.’ “
-You ever own a Swiss watch?-
-Nope-
-Heard they’re good. Reeeal good.-
-Yep.-
-…-
“Charles would reportedly develop a passion for clocks, watches, and timepieces in general, only getting more entrenched in his obsession over time.”
The image of the man now shifted to be overlaid on a map.
“By the time the First World War was over, Charles had gained an ostentatious apprenticeship under one of the premiere watchmakers of the time, Max Stührling. This lasted until Stührling’s death in 1938, after which Charles vanished from any records for two years.”
-Well y’know, his mentor had just died. -Maybe he wanted to grieve. Y’know curl up in his room and not see anybody for a bit.-
Ryan laughed, -2 years, he was crying in his room for 2 years and nobody found him?-
-Well, it’s not like records were great back then, I mean what are you gonna write on the census… just.. like..-
-Loud weeping heard from inside. One resident. Unnamed.-
-Yeah!-
“The next time Charles T. Williamsworth appears on record, it is in the back of a photo from France in 1940. Showing Williamsworth standing in front of a watch shop wearing dark clothes, a distinct pocket watch, and looking into the camera.”
The black and white image appears on screen, zooming in on the background figure. Danny tilts his head at it, something about it niggling at him.
“The shop and its owner would go on to be infamous within the French town for the duration of the Second World War. Charles was unwillingly drafted in the summer of 1941, serving on the front lines for no more than 3 months before sustaining a wound to his face, leaving him with damaged eyesight, facial scarring, and a medical discharge.
He returned to his shop soon after.”
Danny frowned at the mention of what the man had probably gone through.
“Later evidence statements regarding Charles stated that he was: ‘an odd man. He never mentioned the war, leaving it behind once he was not forced to be a part of it. He seemed to be separate from it all, he only cared for his watches.’
This sense of separation would extend to his shop, as when the town was bombed in 1944 leading up to D-day, his shop was left miraculously unharmed. It was reportedly open the very next day.”
-I can appreciate the dedication- Shane says in yellow.
-Yeah, I mean, the morning after is a bit soon, but he did really love watches. If he didn’t have to, I guess he wasn’t gonna close his shop.-
-His advertising: ‘Sure you were almost killed in a fiery explosion, but look! I’ve got new watches!’ Jazz hands.-
Ryan laughs.
“Over the next 50 years, Charles T. Williamsworth would disappear from records repeatedly, sometimes for months, only present on seven censuses between 1952 and 1979. Despite this, the clock shop was never sold, remaining in wait for its master’s return.”
Multiple pictures of pocket watches came onscreen. “It became known in the surrounding area for especially good pocket watches and grandfather clocks. Each personally made using Swiss essemblage practices, often engraved.
While it was a place of prestige, some described the shop as having ‘an unbearably loud sound of ticking, as if a thousand clocks were set to the same second.’
Apparently, Charles ‘seemed to enjoy the sound, often standing in the front room when no one was present. He was able to pick out one clock if it was off time.’ Witnesses stated.”
It cut to showing Shane and Ryan at their table.
“God, I can’t imagine. That’d drive me crazy.” Shane said, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I don’t know, a thousand clocks at the same time? Just..” Ryan looked back and forth frantically, as if there were sounds from every direction, “I’d go nuts pretty fast, I can’t even handle one sometimes.”
“I’d just go off and punch one of the clocks, just- RAAAH and -oh my god is that where that comes from?! I’m gonna punch your clock? Or like you clock somebody!?! Oh my god I never realized that!”
Danny’s jaw drops at the realization as Ryan laughs. Shane looks to be losing his mind as well.
“However, Charles’ most notable disappearance was his last.”
Dramatic music played as Danny zoned back in.
“Due to his frequency of vanishing for extended periods of time, it is unknown when exactly Charles disappeared. The last definite sighting of Charles T. Williamsworth was late at night on April 23rd, 1999, when neighborhood patrolman, Elliot Dubois, noticed him locking the door to his shop with its lights still on. Elliot, concerned for the safety of the elderly man, questioned him but eventually allowed Charles to leave, noting that he turned down a road that only led into the woods outside of town.
Two weeks later, 12 year old James Chappellè, a mailboy in the area, noted during his morning run on May 7 that mail had begun to pile up in front of the shop’s door.
Something that had never happened before.”
The word ‘before’ faded into red.
“It reached such a point that the mail system declared they would no longer deliver, as they couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t be stolen.
At this point, the police got involved and the case was assigned to Detective Jacob Laurent.
It turned out to be a more difficult case than first expected, as when they looked into Charles’ past, they were unable to turn up any such notable documents as a birth certificate nor any document containing a birthdate.
But when police entered the shop on May 10th, they found it largely empty, with only the shelves, register, and equipment left remaining between the front and back room. There were no clocks of any kind.
It should be noted that there was still money in the register, and a light on in the back though the other bulbs for the front seemed to have been burnt out.
Upon entering the living space above the shop, it was found to be covered in dust, and all of Charles’ clothes and belongings still present.
Rather, there was evidence that Charles largely slept in his shop, with a cot beside his workbench.
A workbench that, upon police entry, only held one gold pocketwatch, personally engraved with the initials ‘C. W.’ As it was known for Charles to always carry the pocketwatch, he was officially declared missing and possibly presumed dead.
The watch’s presence also led detective Laurent to suspect foul play.
Despite the declaration of foul play, the police did not extensively search the town woods, citing the size and density of the forest.”
The video cut to Shane staring at Ryan, face deadpan. Ryan was clearly trying to hold back laughs.
“So… let me get this straight… an old man who’s… how old at this point exactly?”
Ryan laughs, “Nobody knows, there’s no known birthday-“
“That’s weird too, but okay, let’s say he’s like what, at least 95? I mean… there’s a certain age that like if you disappear… ..eh.” Shane shrugged.
Ryan looked at him incredulously, “Eh??”
“Yeah,” Shane shrugged again, “Eh.”
“What???”
“I mean… y’know… old people wander into the woods sometimes, maybe he just went for a walk and got lost. At that age… death has gotta be around every corner, I mean come on!”
Ryan wheezed into his elbow.
Danny laughed quietly.
Once Ryan calmed down, he organized the file, clipping it down on the table, “So! With the story finished, let’s get into the theories,”
Shane rolled his eyes, “Oh god this is gonna be one of yours isn’t it? What ghosts are abducting people now?”
Danny smiled, briefly considering how much effort it would take to go haunt Shane all the way in LA.
“The first theory is that Charles T. Williamsworth was involved with the mafia at the time and was a long standing or high ranking member that had crossed the wrong people.
Some reasons for this theory is the lack of early documents, suggesting a fake identity or forgery.
This case is especially supported by the long absences, where his shop remained closed and yet still remained in his possession.
In fact, the deed for the shop was not listed under Charles’ name, instead Iisted as owned under a private organization.
This theory explains his disappearance and possible subsequent death as an act of revenge from an enemy made from illicit activities. Leaving no body behind, there would be no evidence to prosecute the acting party.
Within this, there are also some who believe that if Charles was engaged in the mafia and lived under a false identity, that his disappearance was him returning to his actual identity, possibly due to being caught.
Prison records indicate 6 Swiss-German inmates arrested at the approximate time of his disappearance, roughly matching the age and appearance of Charles. Notably, none of them had a distinct facial scar and no identification was ever confirmed.”
The screen switched.
Shane smiled at Ryan, “Oh Ho Ho, my boy Charles is getting into some funky stuff, huh? Workin’ for the Mob, breaking knees, chopping fingers?”
Ryan laughed, “Yeah maybe, it definitely lends credit to him being a part of something. Maybe he was out in the woods breaking knees y’know. Or burying something.”
“Someone,…”Shane said ominously, then burst out laughing, “What if he buried himself! Just-“Shane mimed digging, clapping his hands like he was wiping off dust, “Alright, thats a good illegal grave right there, just a good hole for a dead- woaaah!” He pretended to fall, “Boom, stuck in his own grave.”
“Really, this old man dug a 6 foot deep grave? On his own?”
“Hey you don’t know his strength, maybe he lifts.”
“Alright.” Ryan shook his head, still grinning.
Danny smiled, considering it, it did kind of make sense.
“The second theory is that Charles T. Williamsworth did indeed just walk into the woods and never come out. If this is the case, what happened in the woods is widely speculated on. Some saying that animals may have attacked him, or that he simply fell or was injured and could not get up due to his age.
This theory loses support due to the fact that no body was ever found. Though some say that if the woods were too big for the police to search, there may be a den or that his body was covered naturally.”
“Or in a grave.”
“You really think he was mafia?”
“I mean, who could tell?” Shane shrugged.
“The third theory, much like the first, is that Charles was a federal agent for one of the Allied Powers.
This theory is also supported by the significant periods of absence and lack of documents to indicate a forged identity, meant to fool the German government and allow him to work behind the lines. However, unlike the first, there is also evidence of a man with the same distinct scar on his eye, showing up in the background of photos at the British Intelligence Office, the Eiffel Tower during Germany’s occupancy, and behind closed Swiss borders.
None of which would be possible without the unique skills and permissions of a government agent.”
Silence reigned as Shane and Ryan stared each other down, Shane clearly ramping up for something.
“The name’s Williamsworth. Charles Williamsworth.” He said dramatically.
Ryan burst out laughing. “You support this one more then?”
“Yeah, I’ve changed my mind, he’s not in the mafia. His suspicious activities were in the name of secrecy, national secrets, confidential war trades. Espionage…”
“Well I guess, nobody’s gonna suspect the 95 year old man to be up to anything. I mean, if I saw an old man somewhere I’d just be like, huh I wonder who lost their grandpa, not ‘I bet he’s secretly working to take down Hitler.’ Y’know.”
“Charles gets caught: just ‘Whaa-at me~e? I’m just a gentle~e o~ ol~ld ma~an, I can’t harm nobody~y.” Shane mimed leaning over a cane.
“He gets caught and just pretends he has dementia, ‘Who am I? Who are you? Why am I here? Where’s my breakfast?”
Shane cackled as Ryan laughed.
Danny considered it more, this one seemed the most likely, though… he’d definitely be the oldest agent.
“Another theory is that the shop was robbed and Charles returned while or before it was happening, catching the criminals off guard and leading them to react rashly, injuring or killing Charles. They then would have hidden his body and cleaned out the shop to hide any other evidence.
This theory however is disproven by the lack of money taken from the register.
Despite this, it is the official claimed circumstance by the police at the time.”
“Fucking police, always with the boring one.” Shane said ruefully.
“Our last theory, and my personal favorite,-“
Shane groaned. Danny smiled, this was gonna be good.
“-is that Charles T Williamsworth was a time traveler. And that all of his disappearances were when he was traveling through time.
This theory supports his families early move to Switzerland under odd timing, his appearance in so many photos and even his obsession with clocks. As well as why he seemed unbothered by the tumultuous times.”
“I can… accept it.” Shane said, hesitant.
Ryan laughed, “I’ll take it.”
“Despite all of these theories, there is still significant information missing from the case.
And so, like clockwork this case shall remain:
Unsolved.”
Danny’s mouth dropped as the screen went dark.
No way.
No freaking way.
He lurched upwards, eyes wide.
Obsessed with clocks, scar on his eye, fricking weird and talks in riddles.
Oh mygod!
Danny threw himself out of bed, “I’ve connected the dots!” He rushed to untangle himself from his sheets, transforming immediately, “I’ve connected them!”
He dove for the ghost portal.
Holy frick!
Charles T. Williamsworth was Clockwork!
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writeforfandoms · 1 year ago
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Who Wants To Live Forever
Find my Ghost masterlist
It doesn't matter how many lives you've lived, you always find your way back to him.
The reincarnation au nobody asked for and my plot bunnies yeeted at me anyway! I have a lot of thoughts about this one that didn't make it into the fic. Like. A Lot.
Warnings: Swearing, past violence, blood, injury mention, canon typical violence, idiots in love, this is just for fun, I wrote this for me but you can read it too.
Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader
Word count: 2.9k
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The dreams started when you were small. Your parents at first attributed them to an overactive imagination and too much television. 
But as you got older and the dreams didn't go away, you wondered. Your parents got squirrelly about them, started muttering about things like psychiatrists and not normal and worried. 
So you stopped mentioning them. Pretended you didn't dream at all most nights. 
Reality couldn't be farther from the truth. 
You dreamed. Every single night. In some you were part of a village, living a harsh life by the sea. The men would go off to hunt and raid, and the women stayed behind to mind the village and raise the children. Those dreams always left you cold. Even in those dreams, though, dream-you noticed the beauty, the way sunlight glinted off snow, the magical lights in the sky, the blue of the sky after a storm. 
Some nights you dreamed of being a nurse, tending wounded soldiers in tents and buildings. Those dreams were always full of screaming and crying and horrors. Men wheezing, coughing up blood. Limbs shattered and mangled beyond repair. A stench like you couldn't describe. But there were little moments, moments of kindness. Holding a man's hand to comfort him through his last breaths. The way the sunrise broke through some of the haze of pain surrounding those places. The way a doctor or fellow nurse would sometimes thank you, buy you a drink, share scant meals with you. 
Sometimes you were a school teacher in a rural village, gently scolding children and keeping watch as they frollicked at break times. Those dreams were full of small joys. A flower one of your students brought you, bashful smile blooming into a grin at your thanks. Sunsets from the comfort of home. Warm meals at the table, often shared. With him.
He was a constant presence. Through all of your dreams, all of those times, he was always to be found. He didn't always look the same - skin tone changed, hair color changed. But you always knew him by those brown eyes. 
Sometimes the two of you married. Sometimes he was married before you met him. Sometimes you were married first. But you always, always found each other. In every time. In every life. 
By the time you were out of school, you had notebooks dedicated to your dreams, to the times, to the man. You kept them hidden away, for your eyes only. Just as a way to help you keep everything straight. 
As more time passed, you became more and more sure that these were glimpses into the past. Your past. Past lives, you'd guess. From the way the dreams felt… it always felt like you. No matter how many times you put pen to paper, you could never accurately describe why. 
But you knew. They were all you.
And they were all him. 
Which made you wonder… when would you find him in this life? You'd found him in almost all of the others. It seemed reasonable that you'd find him again. 
(Nevermind that you had no name, no description, no way of knowing what he'd look like or where he'd be.) 
Knowing that he was out there somewhere made it easy to bury yourself in work. Oh, sure, you had friends. People who knew you. You were well-liked at work, known to get things done. 
But you didn't date. You didn't look for people who weren't him. 
Everyone else, you knew, would pale in comparison. 
All the lives accumulated in your head did make it hard to relate. It was easier, sometimes, to sort of… float through life. You knew what was expected of you. You'd known people from every walk of life, just about. You knew a lot about people, could do well in social situations without working at it. 
But it did make for a rather lonely life. 
You started dreaming of him more often. Of the times the two of you lived together. Of the long talks the two of you had. Of the walks, along the sea, along a grass-lined lane, along a lake. Of the times he was just out of reach, your eyes meeting again and again through crowds and dinners and company. 
Of the time he died in your arms, blood staining the both of you. 
You were tired when you got on the train. This was just a little holiday to a new place. 
Or. Well. You hadn't been here in this lifetime, at least. 
It was busier than you remembered the area being, more built up. Your lips twitched - that's what happened over time, after all. 
Nothing stayed the same for long. 
You didn't pay any mind to the people around you as you walked, taking your time. You didn't mind walking to your hotel from the train station. Gave you a better chance to look around and plan where you wanted to go later. 
Your eyes met brown through a coffee shop window.
You froze. You knew those eyes. You knew those eyes. 
He blinked, just once. You couldn't look away. 
The noise of the coffee shop finally registered when you stopped in front of his table, the chinking of mugs and flatware, the hiss of the machines, the babble of unimportant voices. 
“Hi.” You were a little surprised at your own voice, quiet and a little awed. 
He eyed you, black face mask obscuring most of his expression. For a moment your heart plummeted. Maybe he didn't recognize you? Maybe… he didn't remember? 
Then his lips twitched. 
“Took you long enough.” 
“Took me long enough?” You tried for outrage but probably fell short, humor and elation buoying your heart. “And what about you, hmm?” 
“Been busy.” He nodded to the seat across from him, and you could just see the corners of his eyes crinkle with his smile. 
“Oh, busy. Yes, how silly of me to not think of that.” You dropped into the seat, your bag landing at your feet a little harder than was probably advisable. 
“Holiday?” His gaze dropped briefly to the table, to where your bag was now hidden. 
“Yes.” Some of your elation faded at the dose of reality. “You?”
He paused, holding your gaze. “On leave.” 
“Ah.” You smiled a little, sliding one open hand across the table. “Going well this time, then?”
He didn't say anything for a long moment, staring down at your open hand. His fingers twitched. “Not particularly.” 
Your heart plummeted. “Oh.” 
“S'fine.” He shook his head once, short and sharp. “You want anything? Tea, coffee?” 
“Coffee is fine.” You started to stand but he waved you back into your seat. 
“Wait here.” 
You huffed out a breath and watched him go, broad shoulders easy to track up to the register. You finally had the attention to note other details about him. He was dressed casually, all in black, with his hood pulled up. You'd caught blonde hair under his hood. 
Taller than you could remember him being. Broad shoulders. 
It was just… so good to see him again. To see him now. With your own eyes, in this life. 
It would be nice to make more memories, for next time. 
The clink of a mug being set in front of you brought you out of your own head. You blinked at the mug and then at him as he sat across from you again. 
“How long are you here?” He folded his hands in front of him, gaze fixed on you. 
You shrugged. “I had only planned for a few days,” you admitted. “But I can make it longer.” 
He grunted once, thumb tapping against the side of his hand as he considered something. Then he nodded once. “Meet me here tomorrow,” he said, abruptly moving to grab a pen and a napkin. “1200.” 
You blinked once. “Tomorrow?” You couldn't quite keep the disappointment from your voice at that. 
“Got some things to take care of before then,” he said, barely glancing up at you as he finished writing on the napkin. “Got some people for you to meet, too. If you want to know me better this time ‘round.”
You swallowed against the lump in your throat. He'd married already. That was the only thing you could think of. He was already married and you were too late. “I see.”
“No. You don't.” He pushed the napkin to you, tapping it twice with one large finger. “Here. Tomorrow.”
“1200,” you repeated dutifully, mustering up a wan smile. “Yes. I remember.”
“Good.” He pushed back to his feet abruptly, and you startled a little. He was just so tall! “If you don't show, I'll assume you don't want to meet again.” The words were flat, even, but his eyes… his eyes hid pain. 
You nodded, too startled for words by all of this. In a moment he was gone, striding out of the coffee shop and away from you.
Every fiber of you longed to go after him, to beg him for answers. 
Instead, you sat and sipped your coffee with trembling hands, staring at the napkin until the blocky letters were burned into your memory. 
The walk to your hotel was a bit of a blur. You barely paid attention to the social interaction, though you must have done well enough. 
You ended up sitting on the bed, bag on the floor, staring at your hands. 
He'd been so close. So close. 
But he hadn't taken your offer. He hadn't touched you. 
You thought you might finally be going a little insane. Was this what insanity felt like? Was this some kind of fever dream? Had you finally lost all sense of reality?
But no. You had the napkin in your pocket still. You'd seen him. You hadn't learned his name this time around, hadn't learned much of anything really, except that he had people he wanted you to meet. 
People. He'd said people for you to meet. 
The words finally sank fully into your brain, and you weren't sure whether to laugh or scream. People. People to meet. As in more than one person.
As in he was not only married but had a family…
…or something else entirely. Something new. 
Even after so many lives, the world still had a way of surprising you. A lesson hard learned over time. 
You forced yourself to breathe through the weight of history on your shoulders, staring back at all the lives where things had gone wrong. 
And then you forced yourself to find some dinner, shower, and read for a while before bed. 
Not that you slept very well. Not with anticipation and dread wreaking havoc on your heart. 
You arrived at the meeting spot ten minutes early, a little cafe on a square with a fountain in the middle. You stood outside, hands in your pockets, unsure what to expect. 
“You’re early.”
You swallowed once, heart thudding hard against your ribs as you turned to look at him. “Didn’t want to be late,” you quipped, only to falter. 
He wasn’t alone today.
Three other men stood with him, all of them looking at you. You lifted your chin a little, meeting the gaze of the closest man. You had just enough time to note how blue his eyes were before the memories slammed into you. 
A quiet life working the land, out beyond the edge of the “civilized” world, a husband with a rare but kind smile, eyes so blue you could drown in them. Rare trips to the nearest town gave you glimpses of your brown-eyed man, but no more than that. Cold winters and muddy springs and indomitable shoulders to lean on through it all. 
And a slightly less quiet life of some wealth, with a husband whose work often took him from home. But you’d had friends that time, your own societal duties. Dances. Events. Hosting. That life had not been devoid of its fun and beauty. 
“Oh.” You blinked at him, eyes wide. 
His lips twitched under his facial hair (muttonchops - unusual choice for this day and age) and he held out a hand to you. “Captain John Price.”
You gave him your name and shook his hand, holding his gaze for a moment longer. If he was like the him you’d known, he was a good man. Time would tell if and how he had changed. “I married you before.”
He grinned for a moment, so close to the man you’d known that your heart ached. “Twice, but don’t hold it against me,” he joked before he stepped aside. 
The next man to step up also had blue eyes and a big smile. You knew him immediately - you’d seen him before, too. A few times in the shadow of your brown-eyed love, once or twice on his own. The last time you’d seen him, he’d been standing over the bed of one of his men, half-covered in blood and muck. 
There had been nothing you could do, then. 
Now you smiled. “Good to see you again.” 
“Ye look better this time.” He chucked you gently under the chin with two knuckles, grinning. “John MacTavish, call me Soap.” 
“Soap?” You raised one extremely unimpressed eyebrow. 
He laughed. “A story for another time,” he promised, winking at you before he stepped back. 
The last man looked at you, nerves in the pinch of his mouth and the corners of his eyes. Darker skin and a ballcap met your quick perusal. 
You only had to meet his gaze for a moment before you threw yourself at him, hugging him as hard as you could, breath stuttering in your chest. 
“Hey, hey,” he cooed, arms immediately settling around you, one hand cupping the back of your head. “It’s alright, we’re fine.”
“You left,” you grumbled, hands fisting in the back of his shirt. “You’re not allowed to do that to me again.”
“Promise,” he muttered, voice low, just between the two of you. “I won’t.”
You sniffled, just once, before you pulled back to look at him. “I missed you,” you admitted before gently whapping his arm. “And if you disappear on me again I’ll hunt you down next life.”
“Yes ma’am.” He grinned, not even a little abashed. 
“So, what ridiculous nickname have you gotten this time?” You smiled, finally taking a half-step back. 
“It’s not ridiculous,” he scoffed. “Gaz. Kyle, this time ‘round.”
“Gaz.” You tested it out slowly before shrugging. “Not the worst.”
“Oh? And what would be?” Soap snuck up next to you, looking eager for mischief. 
“Story for another time,” you shot back at him with a smile. You finally turned your gaze to him again, to your brown-eyed man. The only one who hadn’t given you his name yet.
“Simon,” he finally said, as if he’d read your mind. 
“Simon.” You smiled. “How did you…?” You made a helpless motion between the three men. 
“Price,” Simon answered with a little shrug. “Found all of us.” 
“Came across ‘em,” Price said, arms crossed over his chest. “Knew I had to keep ‘em close.” 
You nodded, a little ache in your heart. “It’s a good thing you did.” But your gaze didn’t stray from Simon, too busy basking in the sight of him, here and whole in front of you.
“He’s no’ married yet,” Soap said in a stage whisper. When you glanced at him, he was grinning. “Unattached. Available. Free to a good home.”
“MacTavish,” Simon growled, brows twitching in annoyance. 
But you? You grinned. “Well, that’s good, because it’s your turn this time,” you teased, chin tipping up and to one side. 
Simon’s gaze snapped back to you, eyes a little wide. “What?” 
“I asked you last time,” you said patiently, trying hard to not grin. “Almost kissed you in front of your fiance, too.” 
“Almost,” he agreed, eyes warm as his gaze swept the length of your body. 
“I spotted you yesterday, too,” you pointed out, completely reasonably and not at all like a little gremlin. (You liked that word a lot and had incorporated it as much as you could once you’d caught airmen using it during World War II.) 
“So, ‘s my turn?” He took one step closer to you.
“Mmhm.” You bit the inside of your lip hard to keep your grin to yourself. 
His eyes narrowed at you, which was the only warning you had before he pulled down his face mask and kissed you. Vaguely, you heard Soap cheering and Price grumbling. But everything fell to the back of your mind.
Everything that wasn’t Simon. 
A little piece of your heart clicked into place. 
When he finally pulled back, both of you were a little out of breath, holding each other tight. His lips twitched in a tiny smile and you all but beamed in response. 
And then yipped when someone yanked you away from Simon.
“Best friend dibs,” Kyle announced, already starting to walk you away. “Mine for now, I’ll give her back in a day or two.”
You cackled at the look on Simon’s face, like he was torn between murder and laughing along with the joke. 
“There’s no rush,” you couldn’t help but tease. “We’ve got this entire life, now.” 
Simon met your gaze again even as his long strides caught him up with you and Kyle. His mask was back in place now but his eyes were warm, smiling at you, even as his hand twined with yours. 
Finally. 
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goldenamaranthe-blog · 9 months ago
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Band AU: Hazbin Hotel
Because there's always a band AU.
-666 News Broadcast Theme Plays through the dive bar cafe from the small, flickering TV in the corner-
Katie Killjoy: Breaking News in the Pop industry today! Our sunshine and rainbows, Mandy Moore wannabe, and Princess of Hell, Charlotte Morningstar, has come out with a new music video to help promote a brand new album that appears to have been conjured up seemingly overnight.
Angel: Hey, Vagina! (Elbows Vaggie) Ain't that your girl crush from the open band night down at Husk's Casino two months ago?
Vaggie: (chokes on her coffee) What?! Turn it up, Jackass!
Angel: (steals the remote from across the bartop and turns up the TV)
Tom Trench: And, boy howdy, this makeover is on par with most Disney child stars diving off the deep end!
Katie Killjoy: (spears a pen through Tom's hand) No one gives a shit Tom.
Tom Trench: MY HAND!!!
Katie Killjoy: Spectators and fans of our usually diabetically sweet princess feel that this sudden shift is caused by her breakup with Seviathan Von Eldritch just last month, ending the royal arranged engagement, after he mentioned how she refused to "put out" before marriage in an interview with Hell's High Class Weekly.
Vaggie: (bristles) The douchebag....
Katie Killjoy: Let's watch as our lovely princess makes her breakdown public.
-Screen shifts to Charlie holding a mic in one hand while picking a guitar in another, wearing 2000's Avril Lavigne glam rock attire (hot pink, baggy cargo pants, black leather studded belt, rainbow converse, black leather wrist bands, grey tank top with two black goats faced just the right way so their curved horns make a heart and tied together with a rainbow knot, and a black and red stripped tie) Razzle and Dazzle are playing drums and bass-
Charlie: Don't you know that IIIIIIIII- (flips off the camera and sticks out her tongue while mouthing "Fuck you, Seviathan" as the song reaches its climax) I don't give a daaaaaaaamn about you!!! I won't give it up, not for you!!! I'm not gonna cry about some stupid guy. A guy who thinks he's all that!
Vaggie: Whoa! (Big smiles like when Adam got stabbed) Get it, Charlie!
Katie Killjoy: (as the screen returns to normal) Other songs on the album include "Behind These Crimson Eyes", "The Dick Who Blocked His Own Shot", "Smack a Bitch", "Since U Been Gone", and the gay community's rabid favorite "Dear Vaggie"-
Angel: (sucking down his third popsicle for breakfast) What now?
Vaggie: WHAT?!?!?!?!
Katie Killjoy: -The obviously plagiarized parody of "Cool for the Summer" by Demi Lovato has unsubtle lesbian and bisexual overtones that specifically mentions Vaggie "the Steel Vagina". The lead singer and guitarist of the Power/Grunge Metal band, Fallen Angels
Angel: (wheezes as he laughs breathlessly and falls off his stool)
Vaggie: (steaming) Angel!!! ¡Eres un chupapollas, hijo de puta! Why would you tell the news that was my name?!
Angel: (ugly walrus gasps and giggles) Because it's better than I ever dreamed!!!!
Katie Killjoy: Fans of both artists are absolutely frothing at the mouth to see what Vaggie's response will be.
Tom Trench: Frothing at the mouth and other orifices, if you catch my drift. (Gets a pen slammed into his balls) GaaAhaHaaaaHaha!
Katie Killjoy: More on this story tonight at eleven.
Vaggie:
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Angel: Soooooo~ Whatcha wanna doooooo~?
Vaggie: We're going to Tune Town, getting a copy of that album-
Angel: Ooooooooh-hohohoooooh~ I can visit dat nice glory hole they got there.
Vaggie: -THEN!!! We are going back to the apartment and making a response single.
Angel: Do you know what you even want to put in it?
Vaggie: (slipping on her jacket) I'll figure it out after listening to the album!
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fountainpenguin · 1 year ago
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Scott, Gem, and Martyn Secret Life Ep 1 commentary:
"Geez Scott, why are you so creepy?" / "Everyone needs a hobby <3"
Crying at Scott booking it across the grass to break up Scar and Jimmy as fast as humanly possible and they just start huffing and grumbling.
Scott after running into Pearl, Cleo, Jimmy, and Martyn - "I've bumped into every single one of my exes already..."
slkdjf Skizz apparently cut himself saying "I just wanna cause problems" out of his own POV but Scott got it all on tape
Skizz staying within 10 blocks of Gem is even funnier from Scott's POV because he needs Gem to hold his hand while he follows Scott around a corner... The delicate balancing act of obeying Scott's come hither but also pulling Gem along.
The dead silent push in on Scott's face when he notices Gem inching her base away from his and he's dreading starting his "obnoxiously attach your base to someone else's" task over.
Impulse: "Scott, is my cottagecore-ing okay? :)" / Scott, sweating his pretty little head off as he speed-builds so Gem doesn't catch him in the act, not even turning around: "Yep- looks great!"
Gem, emotionally trudging across the map with Skizz and Scott hanging off her.
I appreciate Gem's commentary of "How much room does this man NEED??"
Gem watching Scott un-merge their bases: "Oh, thank you" / Scott: "What do you mean by that. Why is that a relief to you."
---
Impulse and Gem going over the cliff is funnier with the context that Gem's task was to convince someone to "take a leap of faith while also ensuring they take no damage."
Mental image of Gem begging Impulse to take a flying jump into the water while Impulse is grabbing her by the shoulders and trying to force her into a cherry wood boat because it's cherry wood it's amazing Gem come on slkdjf
Gem: "How much more iron do you need for a chestplate?" / Impulse, taking a moment to pretend to count: "... 8 :)"
Gem, addressing the viewers: "And Skizz follows me around for an uncomfortable period of time."
In Scott's POV, he's just watching unhappily from the distance as Gem starts taking down her wall, but in Gem's POV she actually asked him if she can move her base over and he's just like "Yeah... Yeah, you can if you want to :')" slkdfj
Underappreciated irony in Scott being the one to make a big deal about how clingy Skizz is when he's literally fusing his base's roof with Gem's
It's spawn egg-topia!!
Scott: "I'm making the executive decision to separate our cottages." slkdjf Scott recovers from being possessed by the spirit of clinginess and wakes up like "What HAPPENED last night?? What is this garbage??"
---
Holy cow Martyn dropping from 30 hearts to 12 within like 20 minutes.
lksdjf Martyn: "Let's see if there's any response in the chat to my Cover Me With Diamonds achievement :)" / Gem, Scott, and Impulse immediately triple enchant / Martyn: "Oh :'D"
??? Custom zombie spawner? Neat
He started at 30 and went down to 5.5 hearts?? Geez, dude.
It's funny because in Double Life, I didn't notice Martyn taking that much damage compared to anyone else, but I feel like now I understand why Cleo was so irritated with him lskdjf
Martyn at the start of this episode: "Ew I don't want cherry wood" / Martyn trying to complete his secret task: "Where is all the cherry wood??"
Martyn speedbuilding in panic and quiet, then Joel cracks a joke and Martyn laughs and you hear Bdubs offscreen going "You got Martyn with that one" <3
sdfklsjdf I like how Martyn's idea of copying Lizzie's house involved rushing over to hers and destroying her bed to match the fact that his copied house did not have a bed
Wheezing at Impulse being just 2 steps from pushing the success button but Martyn starts trash-talking cherry wood and Impulse immediately goes "Take that back, take that back right now!" with this guttural snarl and starts stomping towards him because he wasn't cured from his cherry wood obsession yet... Beautiful.
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dangerliesbeforeyou · 3 months ago
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ok so ive been rewatching psychoville and saw on the wikipedia that there were a bunch of websites made for the series (they were all written by reece and steve btw) which i've been looking through cos they are genuinely SO fucking funny & also just amazingly creative lol!
anyway i know people in the fandom probs already know about this (since the show came out literally 15 years ago pfft) but i thought i'd share some of my fav bits (but honestly would just recommend just checking them out if you haven't i have been crying with laughter for literally hours lol)
i will say that a lot of the media (videos, games, etc) no longer work on the archived sites rip but i'm sure people have uploaded some of the stuff (vids especially) to yt or other places lol
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so a) i love that we get some background stuff on jelly and 2) 'captain CRACKERS' bernie clifton's dressing room reference question mark ??????? (ofc bcdr was AFTER this but i know love the idea that mr jelly trained under len pfft)
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what that red raw stump do though 👀 (sorry pfffft)
mr jolly's website wasn't that interesting soz tho i did like him comparing being a doctor to being a clown lol
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the comment about fag bears did make me wheeze i'm afraid lol i also loved the blurry photos of lomax's commodities lol (kinda reminded me of the bit in tlog w/ that terrible old photographer guy lol)
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when i tell you i DIED with laughter at the 'now known as hull' bit like u just know reece wrote that bit pfft
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not really a funny thing but this poem written by david honestly kinda breaks my heart lol... i think it also a lot of additional context to david's guilt when he thought he'd killed his father(faver) because perhaps he felt guilty about NOT feeling guilty you get me? like, it felt to me that when maureen told david it was SHE who killed her husband, it didn't feel like he was mad at her for doing it, but more that she kept the fact from him. it's about... the mutual oedipus-coded obsession with one another that couldn't even be destroyed in death and in this essay i will....
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ghoul_lass23 is just like me but about tumblr lol fr
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nothing feels more cursed than the phrases 'the river minge has burst its banks', 'crying creamy tears' and 'fleshy rapunzel' (which i've just noticed they misspelt lol... don't think that was intentional lol?) so if i had to read this so do you <3
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the way that i kinda wish this actually existed tho pfft... also, it does kinda remind me of that video where jenny nicholson talked about that insane reality show 'opposite worlds' lol
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'cross between seven and glee' is honestly sending me pfft
also on this part there was a script from stinkfinger (which is a show mentioned on the show) which sounded suspiciously like a reference to tlc lol
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the less said about swastknickers the better
(will say i did nearly piss myself laughing at the nazi section of the hoity toity website lol which wasn't a sentence i thought i'd type today lol)
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i just love these kinds of jokes pfft
also the whole biography sections of each of the pantomime cast are fab lol tho i AM kinda pissed they made debbie from yeovil and yet didn't give her a west country accent lol!!! (i guess they thought it'd be a bit much w/ joy being bristolian but i'm still mad about it lol)
also i know people have probably already pointed this out but i do find it funny that brian in the in9 episode last night of the proms is a closeted gay guy who likes watching drag was probably a reference to brian in this show that was a drag queen like... is anything these guys do NOT a reference??? u know those gaylor fans who obsessively look for clues in her songs about her apparent secret sexuality? all i'm saying is that i think they'd really like the extended reece shearsmith & steve pemberton universe pfft
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all three of these made me cry with laughter lol
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ohh this is interesting lol so obviously they suspected that some people might be all 'um why didn't the sprinklers go off during the fire at ravenhill? plot hole much!' so they wrote this into one of the websites so they could be like SEE! WE'RE ONE STEP AHEAD OF YOU DUMBASSES lol
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both the jeremy kyle reference (remember when that was a thing? yikes... my mum used to watch his show CONSTANTLY...) and nurse kenshington's thoughts on david and maureen are interesting lol.. also there's a reference to the serial killer top trumps in this bit lol! (do people still play top trumps?? man i LOVED top trumps lol...)
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the entire sunnyvale care home section is so fucking funny (both the website AND in the show lol mrs wren/mrs ladybird face is unironically probably my favourite character on the entire show) these were just some of my fav gags lol...
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ok but why is this the SECOND reference to a guy punching a child who was apparently looking at his dick lol!??!! did this happen to one of you ??!!?!? reece did you punch a child ??!???!?!??
&&&& that's it lol
there were a few websites i didn't spend long on or generally weren't that interesting (coughmidgetgemscough) but honestly? i was really captivated with just how funny and well put together all these sites were! you can tell they had a lot of fun making it and i'm sure fans at the time LOVED being able to have this semi-interactive element of the show lol
there was just something so wonderfully late 00's about these websites lol i genuinely don't think i've laughed this much at anything in literal months and all of this is just solidifies that psychoville is a criminally under-appreciated masterpiece lol
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ariisheresstuff · 1 year ago
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THIS is SOOOO Richie when he’s watching yours and Camry’s daughter. Like y’all are out for a small date night and Richie is watching her maybe with Sydney to keep more company by and they are just joking around until she starts crying 💀
Richie and Sydney were babysitting Kennedy while you and Carmen were out on a little dinner date. Kennedy ALWAYS loved when her Uncle Richie would watch her. Kennedy was sitting on Sydney’s lap while Richie was sitting across from them by the dinner table. Now with Kennedy being around Richie so much she does inhabit his traits (mostly the cursing).
“Uncle Richie you’re a bitch!” Kennedy said out of nowhere with a smile making Sydney gape at Richie who just had wide eyes. Sydney tried to hide in her laughter as Richie started to smirk.
“You’re really gonna take that Richie?” Sydney said making Kennedy laugh.
“Well jokes on you kid because I’m telling on you! I’m telling your mommy and daddy when they come back! HAHA! You’re going to jail! Put your hands up!” Richie said in a deep voice like he was commanding Kennedy like a police officer. Sydney couldn’t help but laugh, but Kennedy’s smile dropped.
“J-jail? No! I-I I don’t w-wanna go to jail!! WAHHHH!!!!” Kennedy starting to wail making Richie wheeze in laughter while Sydney started to panic not thinking this was gonna upset poor Kennedy.
“Richie! Okay, it’s okay! Hey, Richie was just joking Kennedy, you’re not going to jail. I promise you. Your Uncle is just being stupid.” Sydney cooed to Kennedy who was still crying.
“Oh come on Kennedy, I was just teasing with you.” Richie joined in on the comfort but only for the front door to open.
“We’re home!” Carmen announced making Sydney and Richie freeze. Kennedy still crying.
“D-daddy! Mommy!” Kennedy said between sobs as she got off of Sydney’s lap to run to her parents.
You and Carmen smiled seeing your daughter only for them to drop once you noticed she was crying.
“Kenzie girl, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Carmen immediately picked her up trying to comfort his daughter, he hated seeing her so upset.
“Did you hurt yourself baby?” You asked her as you searched for any cuts or blood. She shook her head as she hiccuped while Carmen wiped away the tears on her face and kissing her damp cheek.
“U-Uncle Richie told me I-I was going to jail!” She said with a pouted lip, you can Carmen looked at each other with a small smile.
“Oh did he? That’s not very nice, is it bubs?” You said as she laid her head down on her father’s shoulder while Carmy rubbed her back. Just out of nowhere Richie and Sydney walked into the living room.
“Cousin, she told me I was a bitch so I told her the cops were coming to get her for saying that but she knows I joke like that!” Richie said with a frown making you laugh a bit but making Carmen roll his eyes.
“Did you say a bad word Kennedy?” He asked her as she looked at you before hiding her face clearly meaning she did. You sighed with a smile before looking at Carmen who shook his head with a light smile.
“Kennedy, me and mommy aren’t mad at you. But you know you can’t say those things especially to Uncle Richie.” Carmen said that last part while glaring at Richie who gave him the bird.
Kennedy put her head up as she looked at Richie, she sniffled. “Uncle Richie, m’sorry I said that to you.” You couldn’t help but awe at that. Richie smiled before walking up to her and taking Kennedy out of Carmen’s arms and into his .
“Oh I could never stay mad at you Kenz, the best niece in the world.” He threw her up in the air making her squeal as she smiled and laughed with her Uncle.
You and Carmen smiled before walking over to Sydney who had her arms crossed, you looked behind you making sure Richie and your daughter weren’t paying attention.
“So did you record it by any chance?” You said in a whisper making Carmen look at you with a frown.
“I actually did.” Sydney smirked before pulling out her phone to send it to you.
MasterList
Tag list: @otomefan @chunnies @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25 @th3h0nkz
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loving-azerath · 1 year ago
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No one asked for this. HOWEVER As a person with ADHD who gets the zoomies when I am overly tired. Here is the list of headcanons of how I think our COD men that I can't get enough of would react to you having the Zoomies :)
(This is inspired by something I did with a Konig bot....so uhhh....leave me alone about it?? KAY THANKS LETS GOOOOOO
Captain John PleaseCureMyDaddyIssues Price
The man adores you. He would laugh at your antics, and beam at you as you laughed at things that aren't funny but for some reason are really getting you fucking cackling tonight. He would find words that worsen your laughing fits and would say them right when you calmed down just so that you will laugh again and grab onto him in your fit. He would ADORE that you are so fucking cute when you get like this. John would also record them sometimes, if you were being real rowdy so he had blackmail and so that he could watch them when he's deployed just to beam at the phone because he misses your zoomies. You were in bed beside him one night, giggling because of something he had said. The giggle never stopped giving him the tell tale sign that you were about to get the zoomies.
"Uh oh Love, should I take cover?" He would ask and you would laugh and shake your head.
"No, it's fine. I'm fine. I am just tired." You would say and then start laughing again which would make him grin.
"Doesn't sound like you are fine. Sounds like I am about to get hit with a pillow and called curses that would make my men blush" He would poke and you would drop your jaw in false offense grabbing your pillow and slamming it on him.
"You fucking twat waffle what the fuck" You would say which he would chuckle at. If you tried to playfight this man...he would restrain you very playfully and yes you two would fuck. #AfterZoomiesPeePawDick
Johnny Soap Dial Mactavish
This man would get the zoomies with you! You think that he isn't laughing at the same shit? He would be wheezing he is laughing so hard. Some nights you two would be on one for so long that by the time you both actually stopped passing around the laughing fit it was near three AM and you had to work the next day. Worth it though because you LOVED those moments with him. Some jokes would make him laugh even the next day though when he would tell them to his friends at work they would NOT find what you two found so fucking funny it kept you up. That amusing. Sometimes when it was only you though, to start, he would make jokes aimed to drive you further into madness.
"Ay, bonnie baby I got a joke for ya" He would say which you ALWAYS fell for because you loved his fucking jokes.
"Tell me"
"Why was the Strawberry crying?" He would ask, and you would try to hold in laughter that was already bubbling in your throat and trying to escape.
"Why?" You asked, squeaky because you were trying SO FUCKING HARD NOT TO LAUGH.
"Because it was in a jam" He would say, which would have you rolling. Like full on clutching your stomach and every fucking time you would get air you would just repeat the last word. And laugh again. "Ghost loved that one too"
Simon PleasefuckmeGhost Riley
The man LIVED FOR THIS SHIT. When I tell you that he would watch you with so much love and fucking admiration. He would find this adorable 10/10. Like I picture him not showing it on his face much because I reckon he is a bit controlled with his facial expressions. But he would for sure just watch as you zoomed around him. He would also take videos and watch them on deployment because the thought of never seeing those zoomies again made him a tad sad. So he would do it when he missed you. Though you liked to playfight with this man and he would playfight back. He would throw you around and then eventually you would just fuck. He would pin you and you would tease him and he would rail you into next week where you would do the same thing again. <3 One night where you had a long day dealing with customers. You were tired but the zoomies called and you always answered with an enthusiastic cackle. Twas time to annoy your husband.
"Don't start with me" He would say, the look on your face clued him in. The stance. The energy. The small giggle. "No....don't fucking start with me"
hehe
"I don't know what you are referring to. I don't start anything. I am an angel" You would say and he would scoff
"Angel of fucking Chaos maybe." He would say "No...DON'T YOU FUC- I will throw you on your ass- LOVE, THINK ABOUT THIS"
It was too late. You were already throwing a mean false jab to his (untraumatized) ribcage. Which he would counter by grabbing you and throwing you onto the bed. Grabbing the pillow you would slap it across his body but he always grabbed it from you. Tossing it to the side. Until you were out of pillows. Only then would you unleash...the jump attack. Which he always caught as well. Slamming you right back into the bed.
"Thought I said not to start with me" He would say and you would giggle
"I'll fuck you up you Spooky bitch" You would quip which would make him laugh but he would also take it as it was. A fucking threat. And how did he handle threats from you?
He would fuck you. That's how. He would fuck you...you silly bitch.
Kyle Gaz littleBritishShit Garrick
He's a switch. I don't mean in the sexual way though probably there too. The man gives I would be on my knees in the shower eating you out vibes. However, in this case sometimes he would join in on your zoomies and other times he would watch. If he was joining in, you both would be slamming each other with pillows. You would try to pull the blanket over his head and he would body slam you into the bed. Sometimes if you were tickling him (Gaz is ticklish idc) he would accidentally throw you off the bed. One time you did hurt yourself and you both still laugh about it. On times that you are not joined he would make fun of you. He would make jokes and wait until you were almost asleep to make you laugh and each time you would break and you would slap his shoulder and his arm and he would pretend that it hurt.
"OW! You fuckin heathen" He would say which would make you snort
"HEATHEN? Who uses HEATHEN ANYMORE?! Are you from the 1800's?" You would ask and he would roll his eyes
"Piss off mate! You're being a gremlin and you know it! You just punched my shoulder!" He would retort.
"Have you tried not being a little bitch about it?" You would ask and he would chuckle
"Have you tried pissin off?"
"Yeah I piss off my boyfriend all the time" You shrug and then punch him again. Which turn into you on top of him. Pretending to punch while he pretends to block and plead under you making you laugh. Can you guess where this heads? Yeah bitch you get fucked.
Keegan P(ussy destroyer 2000) Russ
He would for sure watchyou for a while with a cocked head and an arched brow. He would laugh with you and would for sure record that shit and send it to you the next day. Only to be like like. "You're a fucking weirdo and I love that shit". I also think that he would without a fucking doubt call them crackhead hours. I don't know why that feels right. But I feel it would go like this. You would start your zoomies right, which would bring fear into this mans heart but amusement into his eyes and blood to his dick.
"Oh no" He would say
"hehehehehehhe"
"Crackhead hours are upon us" He would deapan which would make you flip him off.
"Fuck you, I am not a crackhead" You would argue. "I don't do crack"
"Doll you are acting like a crackhead." He would state. Which would offend you. Which would start a playfight. He would also probably I feel get annoyed if you tried to fight him. He would for sure pin you in like two seconds because he wants you to stop trying to egg him on. He wouldn't want you to actually get a hit in because he was too confident to even defend himself against your weak ass punches. SO he would most def just pin you and then with consent of course fuck your brains out. :) Keegan gives GREAT crackhead hours dick.
König CouldShoveMeInTheDryerOnHighestSetting.
LISTEN! He loves the Zoomies and he finds them adorable. He is obsessed with you when you have the Zoomies. He likes how easy it is to make you laugh so hard you are crying. He likes how your face turns red from laughing so hard. He does playfight back but rarely and if he does he barely puts effort in because he DOES NOT WANT TO HURT YOU. He would most likely also record as well. He doesn't just watch them on deployment though he would watch them ANYTIME he missed you. Even if he was at work for a single hour he would pull out his phone to see the latest zoomies. Which his reaction to for the first time was hilarious. He was chuckling at your antics.
"what has gotten into you mein liebling?" he would ask with another chuckle
"Gimme your hand" You would order and he would carefully give you his hand which you would bite. Not hard at all, just enough to fix your affection aggression that was riling up your zoomies.
"Why did you bite me?" He asks amused that there was no pain but equally confused. "Did I as least taste good Schatz?"
"I needed a nom"
"A nom?"
"Shit sorry, I'm hyper" You would say "Wanna know what I call these moments?" You would ask, literally so amused with yourself you could hardly keep it contained.
"What is it Mein Engel, what do you call it?" he asks turning to you completely. Your energy having completely gotten his attention you were already giggling. Barely keeping the laugh behind your lips.
"Zoomies" You say cackling and falling into him with amusement which would have him cradling you in your laughing fit.
"Oh mein Engel. You are too precious" He would say. I need this man to fuck me so hard I see beyond this fucking galaxy.
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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 29 days ago
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Hallowtober 2024 Day 14 - Animal Attack
She can’t believe that she has to compete with a human for the affections of a Night Fury, for this north’s King of the Dragons no less. She is a dragon, fierce and powerful. He is a lowly human, capable of only cruelty. Not to mention that he’s missing part of a leg and that there’s no muscle on him at all. What does this meek little thing have that she doesn’t?
She tries to fire at him, the Night Fury fires back. She rips him off his back to end the dragon’s offensive servitude, he saves him and won’t look at her for the entire rest of the journey.
Well, the human is not going to be a problem any longer.
After she lured him away from his tent in the middle of the night, she struck his chest with her claws, throwing him to the forest floor. Without their horrible weapons, humans are vulnerable and this one is especially weak. He doesn’t stand a chance as she bites onto his right thigh and pulls him back when he tries to run, tearing at his flesh. His screams fill the forest, but she knows the other humans can’t hear him.
She throws him into the nearest tree and he hits his head, lying still between its roots as the hit was dizzying. When he tries to sit up with his head pounding, bleeding from the claw marks on the side of his chest and the torn flesh of his right thigh, she realizes he’s not dead yet.
Her claws sink into his left thigh with a growl and another pathetic cry leaves him. Screaming and crying, it’s the only form of communication these animals are capable of.
“Toothless!” He holds his hands up in a sad little attempt to protect his head and soft organs from her claws and her teeth. Without armored skin, with no large teeth or claws, without fire, he doesn’t stand a chance. She’ll show him exactly how useless his meager defense is when she bites down on his right arm and it immediately snaps under the pressure of her teeth.
He cries out, his eyes are wide with fear and she wonders how he likes being scared for once.
The taste of him floods her tongue as she bites down harder, as she shakes with her head and the bones of his arm are crunched to countless pieces and his flesh tears. Blood pours from her jaws, drips down to the ground and soaks his tunic. He can scream as much as he wants, the other humans won’t be able to save him.
“TOOTHl-egh!” She cuts his call off the second time by putting her free paw on his throat and he chokes. Her weight threatens to crush his larynx and he gazes up at her, knowing that there is exactly zero he can do to stop her.
He’s dying tonight and the Night Fury will be free of him at last.
-XOXOX-
When Hiccup wakes up, he has no idea for how long he’s been out.
It’s hard to breathe, he’s wheezing through a throat that’s bruised to Hell. He’s in bed in his tent, he realizes that much. His left hand settles on his chest, it’s been bandaged. It and his thighs feel like they’re burning, he can feel the stitches pulling.
None of the pain compares to his right arm, however.
There’s a whine and Hiccup finds Toothless staring down at him. He’s in bed with him and licks his cheek.
“... Bud?” He tries to smile, voice barely a breathy whisper. He’s only vaguely aware of what happened to him. A dragon attacked him, he knows that much. How could he ever forget the way her teeth crushed him so easily and tore flesh from bone.
Her teeth.
Tore flesh from bone.
While Toothless sits up and the bed creaks beneath his weight, they both look down at his right arm.
Or what’s left of it.
Fishlegs or Gothi, whoever operated on him, managed to save a portion of his forearm, but all the rest of it is gone, his hand included. There is no reaction from him upon seeing the stump, though his dragon watches him closely for one. All he can do is put his head back down and sigh, his eyes closing. A part of him already knew during the attack that the limb was lost.
How on Midgard is he going to make Toothless’ tailfin now?
“I don’t know…” It hurts to talk, but he swallows and does it anyway. “What I… did wrong.”
With a croon, his dragon lies back down and rests a foreleg on his stomach, carefully missing his injuries. The truth is that he did nothing wrong. For some reason that even he doesn’t understand, the Light Fury targeted Hiccup. Why she thought getting rid of him would bring them closer together is anybody’s guess.
Fortunately, the Night Fury arrived just in time. He was already stirring when he started noticing that his human was no longer with him. The Light Fury tried to fight him over his fate, but in the end, she fled.
After moments of quiet, his human’s new reality must be sinking in, because Toothless can hear a pained gasp and he watches as tears come to Hiccup’s eyes.
“I… I lost… my arm,” he realizes quietly, swallowing the lump in his bruised throat. “I can’t… I can’t… make… anymore of your… tailfins… I’m sorry, Bud.”
It doesn’t matter how much his throat hurts, how his voice is inaudible to any ears that aren’t a dragon’s, but he still apologizes.
Toothless whines at him and carefully scoots closer before nuzzling his cheek.
“I’m sorry…” He whines again, there’s no need to apologize. He’ll make another tailfin, he’ll make many more creations in life, Toothless is certain of that. As for the Light Fury, she is just one dragon of many. One day they’ll find someone who’s willing to take the package deal that is them. Maybe not now, but one day.
-XOXOX-
IIIIIIII have such beef with this pic. Because this pic looks 👌👌👌 on Procreate, but the second it leaves my art program of choice, it looks so much darker and the colors duller. And this is the lightened version! And it looks baaaad on Procreate!
@mr-business-whump was kind enough to help me out with this one!
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fieldofdaisiies · 2 years ago
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Azriel x Reader | Scared to Be Lonely
type: angst (fluffy towards the end) warning(s): childhood abuse, trauma, nightmares word count: 2k words request: Hello! Can you please write something where Az has a nightmare about what his half brothers did to him and the reader, who is his mate, comforts him?
- all rights reserved -
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"Let's see how good the little bastard's healing powers are, shall we?" Gorzan sneers, Scorf holding his shoulders tightly, pressing his back against his chest. Azriel’s wings are squeezed between both their bodies and he winced loudly, hastily looking between his two step-brothers.
“Let me go!” young Azriel babbles and tries to wiggle out of his brother’s hold.
"Shut up, bastard!" Scorf snarls, twisting Azriel’s arm and pressing harder against his wing which makes Azriel cry out loudly, a few tears rolling down his eyes.
He watches Gorzan unscrew a bottle of oil, wiggling his brows when he nears the young boy and pours the thick liquid over his hands – the last time Azriel has them seen without the scars.
Everything after that becomes a blur – there are flames, fire and pain. So much pain. So much unbearable unimaginable pain. The skin feels hot, then cold, then both things at the same time. The skin ripped open, the fire crawling inside his skin, his body, his veins.
"Please, don't...please, father I beg you-" A harsh slap lands on young Azriel's face, icy-heat breaking out on his skin. A sob dies down in Azriel’s throat, his vision blurry with tears. He can here faint laughter of his step-mother, the cackling of Scorf, the sneering of Gorzan. 
Darkness settles over Azriel when he is once again locked into the cell in the cellar - the dungeon.
Azriel’s whole body shudders when she jolts up in bed, sitting up straight and clutching the damp sheets to his chest. His skin feels clammy with his sweat, his heart racing in his chest when Azriel shakes. Air wheezes in and out of his lungs, hands trembling, and so does his lower lip. His throat burns with a scream, feels dry and like sandpaper when swallowing. The shadowsinger does not know if he has screamed in his sleep, only that his chest aches, so does his soul and his heart. 
Azriel knows he has to calm down. He does not want to wake you. Does not want you to have to deal with this again.
He tries to focus on anything, the pile of clothes on his desk, the moonlight reflecting of the opposite wall, the edge of the bed, the—
Warm hands cradle the shadowsinger’s face, turning his head so he looks at you. Your expression is shocked, sad, panicked, although you try so very heard to look calm. You don’t want him too see how much it hurts you when he hurts, but your expression gives you away. Your thumbs brush over his damp cheeks when you pull him closer to you.
“Azriel, it was just a nightmare. Please, calm down. It was a nightmare. It is not real. Not anymore. It lays in the past.” It is always the same dream. Has always been. When you started dating, even before the bond had clicked, Azriel has had these nightmares. They got less over the time of your relationship, but that does not mean they no longer happen at all. 
There are still nights where he is haunted by them, where all the memories flood his mind, where every small wound is ripped open again. Where the pain is just as strong as in those moments. Sometimes even stronger, because it is the mental pain that hurts much more than the physical one. 
“It is alright. They are not here. They cannot hurt you anymore. You are safe, Azriel. You are safe with me.” 
The blood rushes Azriel’s ears, his knees feel shaky, feet numb, heels pressing into the mattress. Azriel's heart has fallen into his gut, fire blazing through his veins. Just like fire all those years ago. Azriel’s head jerks slightly at the memory and he huffs, clenching his jaw and squeezing his eyes shut. His heart hammers against his rib cage, in his throat, and he tries so very hard to focus on everything else but the nightmare, the memories. He tries to focus on you, on you only, sitting in front of him, in your nightgown, so beautiful.
You pull Azriel closer so his forehead is touching yours. You draw in a deep breath, urging him to do the same. He has to calm, and he has to steady his heartbeat and his breathing. Azriel shudders against you when he brings his hands up, lowers them again and places them on your bare thighs, his finger tips slipping underneath your short nightgown. He curls his fingers around your thighs, holding on tightly, steadying himself. He needs to tell himself that you are here, he is safe with you, you are protecting him.
“Sorry,” the spymaster shudders but only squeeze him.
“Azriel,” you whisper and bump his nose with yours. “It was a nightmare. Don not apologise.”
He knows that. Of course he does, but whenever the pictures flash in front of his vision, in his mind, Azriel finds himself as a young boy again. Helpless, worthless, scared, hurt. He feels so little again, so weak, so hopeless. Because back then there was no hope. There was nothing to hope for in those nights spent in the cold, moldy dungeon where his only friends where the shadows – his protectors, his saviours, his family. “I know.” The shadowsinger exhales a shuddering breath, his shadows crawling over his shoulders, soothingly brushing over his damp skin. For such a long time it has always only been them who brought him peace and comfort. But since he has has you, there is something much stronger in his life that brings him comfort and peace in the darkest times. 
“Thank you,” Azriel breaths and tips his head back a little. He kisses the corner of your mouth before pressing his skin against yours. “It is so good to have you.” His breath his warm on your skin. You move one hand into his hair, softly scratching his scalp. “Want to lie down on me?”
You feel him smile —a tiny, weak smile— against your face before he dips his chin, the stubble on his jaw brushing slightly rough on your cheek. Shifting on the bed, you lift the sheets from your body, making space for the shadowsinger. “Come here.” Azriel also shifts on the bed, but before he crawls over to you he gives his head a little shake. “I will go bathe first, I am quite sweaty and I don’t—“ “Care at all. Come here, my love.” Now the smile on his face is more convincing, a little wider and warmer. Azriel does as told, he moves over on the bed, dragging his wings after him when caging you underneath his tall figure. The shadowsinger wraps his arms around your torso, one leg nudged between your thighs, his face in the crook of your neck. 
He releases a relieved sigh when he draws in your scent, peace and security reaching him through the bond.
“Wouldn’t be the first time that your are sweaty on top of me, huh?” you chuckle lightly and wipe your hand over your mate’s face. Azriel kisses your shoulder and also releases a tiny chuckle. 
“Other times the situation is different.” “But the sweat is the same. And I really don’t care.” Lifting you head a little, you lean forward and kiss your mate’s forehead. Your lips brush his when a warm, and something like summer breeze, feeling reaches your through the bond. You know he has calmed a little by now, his chest no longer hammering so frantically against his ribcage. He is still not fully at ease, it always takes a while, but he is a one good way. Also the shadows around his body seem calmer, now stroking over his skin in big, idle circles. Your brush on hand, that you have freed, over the shadowsinger’s back, nails scratching slightly as he loves this. You also brush over the places where the wings are attached to Azriel’s back, also a little further up over the leathery membrane, but never touching the sensitive parts. This would be wholly out of place right now and you don’t at all deem it appropriate, so soothing scratches it is. 
“We can talk about it, you know,” you whisper after a long moment of peaceful silence. Azriel shifts slightly, uncurling one hand from around you. He brushes it up your torso and slides it into your nightgown, cupping your left breast in his large hand. “Need to feel your heartbeat, yes?” You giggle slightly, and dip your chin when Azriel visibly relaxes more, his figure no longer so stiff and rigid. 
It is something Azriel has done from every early on, somehow syncing his heart with yours. And it helps. It helps him so much. 
“We have talked about it so many times, I don’t want to—“
“And I have told you so many times that you don’t bother me with it. You want to talk about it, we talk about it. You don’t want to, we don’t.”
Azriel releases air through his nose and kisses your shoulder again, squeezing you to him, his hand still under your gown. “I think I don’t want to talk about it. It was just the same dream again, my brothers and then the…dungeon. Nothing new. I just want to lay here, alright?” “That is fine,” you say again his head and his kiss hair, your hand brushing from your back up to his neck, to his hair. Your uncurl some strands, tugging lightly on them and twirling them around your fingers. “Should we cut them again soon? Or are you trying to go for a Cassian-like hair style?” you mumbled and finally Azriel laughs — warm and convincing. 
“Can’t do that to Cass, we both know I would look so much better.” You have to laugh, too, tugging a little harder on one strand. “We better not let Cassian know that, but you are right. I mean, I don’t think it is possible you get even more beautiful, but it might be the case. And I really don’t want to have to fight off more drooling females.”
Azriel huffs loudly and has to chuckle. “My territorial mate, huh?”
You manage to shrug one shoulder and Azriel says, “But you know that you are included in the drooling females?” “I don't drool!” you protest, actually knowing that drooling is totally what you do.
“I’ll remind you of that the next time I stand naked in front of you.” This slight cockiness that returns to him now…gods you love it. And it is so good that he is becoming more himself now again, no longer wrapped in the thoughts of his pasts, haunted by the memories. 
“As if you don’t drool when your see my boobies,” you giggled and brush your chin against him. Azriel lifts his head slightly, turns and looks up at your. He smiles, warm and bright and meets your gaze. “I totally drool when I see you naked, every time actually, but I also did never deny that.” With that being clarified, Azriel kisses your cleavage, then pampers it in tiny pecks and lies back down. 
“Thank you for being there for me,” Azriel says after a moment of silence. You blink your eyes open, sleep has started to overcome you. A yawn parts your lips and you mumble, “Nothing to thank me fore. I am always here for you, no matter what. Not because I am your mate, but because I love you. More than anything else in this world.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @cityofidek @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123
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pygmi-cygni · 2 months ago
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oh well.
marc spector angst
Content: angst (woah really??) sad hours, crying
a/n: this just has all kinds of sad stuff, mental health tw all around
angstober prompt 1 - 'again'
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dark. it's dark outside when his eyes slit open. the window is cold from the London air - he can feel it chill the sheets. a thin sheen of sweat licks over his shoulders. Marc wakes but doesn't stir, choosing instead to stare listlessly into the AC unit.
there's an oiliness inside; a thick, heavy weight that slicks over his ribs and makes the fluttering of his lungs ache with the effort. it'd be easier to stop, really, to just close his mouth and bury his head in the pillow.
Steven, as always, has left the flat a mess. he'd never know, because Marc stirs an hour early to pick up the tissues and socks and straighten the books.
his bones creak on the cold wooden floor. it's been a year, he realizes dismally, looking at the tattered calendar stapled onto the cupboard. Steven's red x's are interspersed with Marc's black ones. it twists his stomach to see the infrequent crimson ink.
floating. Steven's been floating down the drain and Marc's done fuck all to stop it.
oh well. middle age was close. halfway there, right?
there were mugs in the sink. dirty and ringed with black. marc's. Steven couldn't handle the bitterness of coffee.
ha ha.
the sun was beginning to burn the curtain hems, ringing the flat in gold. Marc stumbled in the weak light, blearily searching for a pen. he grabbed a postcard and hastily scribbled a note, slapping it onto the fishtank.
empty, of course. Gus had gone days ago, he just hadn't gotten around to replacing him. Steven would know. Steven would care, oh he'd be so upset-
oh well.
Marc watched the sunrise, eyes fluttering as he was sucked back under, thrown into the dark recesses of his mind.
it was dark when he woke. again. thursday by the looks of it, three days after his last wakeup. Steven hadn't done much cleaning, but there were flowers on the table. old and dying, but he'd clearly gone out.
they crumpled with the smell of food waste in the trash.
a pang in his stomach. Steven had forgotten to eat again. only eggs in the fridge, and Marc only wanted orange juice.
oh well.
he could wait, maybe Steven would remember to go out. if not, he could lose some pounds anyway.
it had been a while since he'd fronted during the day. he didn't hate the night, but it would be nice to see somebody. talk to somebody other that himself and that damned fish.
oh well.
Marc didn't need it, Steven could do without him. he'd be alright. it was routine, a schedule, something he could trust. Steven did the living, Marc did the feeling, and they'd never need anybody else.
living a half life wasn't so bad. it would feel like half-dying when the time came.
the sheets were still cold when he tugged them over his head. the heat should have kicked on by now, maybe it was broken.
maybe it's not the heat.
oh well.
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taglist:
@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma @iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world @ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m comment to join
tbh i kinda hated this but whatever.
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gadriezmannsgirl · 2 years ago
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Gorgeous -Pedri González
Guess who's back with more Vzlan! Reader fics?! Ajá, yo🤭😌 Also... Influencer!Reader
Warnings: High content of Venezuelan slang, curse words, some jokes (?) or mentions of them because I can't joke to save my life, lots of Spanish.
Please, feedback is highly appreciated!
Summary: The guys made him know you but your warm aura and way of being was the one to make him fall for you
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You. Y/N Y/L/N. A pretty much famous Latina influencer. You kinda went all in, a lot of people followed you because, you liked sports and health, often gave outfit and makeup tips, travelled and the one you loved to do the most was photographic art, also you didn't had the need of being another persona in front of the cameras. You were exactly the same in and out.
And you guess the realistic side of you, the natural, humble but still strong and pretty girl you are, was the thing that attracted people the most to you.
Including, the football player Ansu Fati.
The young man had started following you back in 2020, when you moved to Barcelona and it was for a simple mistake he turned being your fan, he had bumped into one of your posts about this healthy recipe and asked his mom to try it out for him. When he grabbed a bite he fell in love with it and started following you for more recipes but at the end of the day, he fell into your "fandom" because of your natural personality.
You never tried, you were just you.
So when one day he was wheezing, laughing and crying when training was done, his teammates were a bit concerned about what had possesed him.
"Hostias, ¿Y a ti qué te pasa, tio?" Pedri had asked as Ansu kept on laughing, when Balde went behind him and saw his phone, the image of you in a podcast with your other three friends laughing your asses off, made sense to the other guy who nodded letting out a simple 'Ah!'
"What's up with him?" Ferran asked
"He's watching another video of Y/N Y/L/N" Balde joined him "When did she posted this one?" Balde, along with Pablo Torre, Eric and Ansu were big fans of yours thanks to the last one influence
"It's not hers" He managed to say "It's from these guys who she hangs around with always"
"You mean "Los Bichos"?" Pablo Torre asked getting behind them to see the content as well "I gotta go and see that one"
"What's the big thing about her?" Pedri suddenly asked. He had heard your name before and knew you were an influencer but never really saw one of your videos or really followed you on Instagram or any other social media. The guys looked at him as if he was crazy, not really believing what their friend had just said.
"She's amazing" Ansu answered "She gives good tips on health, fashion, she also does travelling and photography and she likes sports. Her carisma is what attracts people in"
"Not to mention the looks" Torre murmured "Hermosa" He blew a kiss towards Ansu's phone
"Aurora is basically in love with her, always having one of her lives, videos, podcasts or anything"
"Sira's the same" Ferran nodded "I have seen her, she's quite the jokester too"
Suddenly all of them were watching Ansu's phone
"Well, she indeed is really pretty" Gavi agreeded
"Sad that she may not be like we see her on real life tho" Pedri shrugged his shoulders
"No, she is" Torre nodded "One of my girl friends has met her and she says she's the sweetest"
Pedri could only see your smile and the way you threw your head back in laughter, amazed, you were beautiful. He wasn't going to deny it, he had eyes, big ones in fact, and he could see the beauty of women.
"How old is she?" Gavi asked
"She just turned twenty" Eric said
"What did you say her name was?"
"Y/N Y/L/N" He nodded pretending not to be interested
That very same night, Pedri was fighting himself to watch some of your content on Instagram and Youtube, he didn't know what was he afraid of, he was just going to see what's the fuss of the guys, nothing else.
But oh boy...
One video, turned into two, then three, four, five, six and by the time he realized it was 2:30 am, his battery that used to be on 87% was now in 4% and thirty videos he had watched
"Hostia, mae'mia" The Canarian murmured "It's really late" He considered plugging his phone and stop seeing your videos but the longer he kept thinking of it, the less he wanted to let go of his phone, he wanted to see your smile one more time, your laugh and your pretty big eyes, you indeed were really sweet in and out of cameras.
He had now seen the thing the guys had seen in you too. He decided to push the Follow button on your Instagram account and also decided to see the last Live you have done recently which was three days ago.
"¿Por qué no hablas español?" (Why don't you talk Spanish?) You had read confused "¿Y es que yo hablo chino?" (And do I speak Chinese?) You laughed lightly "I think I get what you mean, it's the accent, right?" You stopped for a second to drink some water "Well, déjame decirte chama que mi acento venezolano es demasiado bello pa' yo cambiarlo. I don't mean to say the Spanish accent isn't pretty, because it really is, I like it. It's just not my style because I'm obviously not a Spaniard" (let me tell you, girl, that my Venezuelan accent is too beautiful for me to change it) You paused a little
"Sí, que se me puede salir un poquillo el vosotros y algunas cosillas que hacéis" (Yes, I can get out a little about and some things that you guys do) You did a perfect Spanish accent laughing "Pero, no" You spoke naturally shaking your head (But no)
He smiled watching you and your Latina roots, defending and wearing them proudly.
That was only the start of Pedri crushing on you. The next following weeks, he had not missed a single Live, Vlog or post that you did. Soon the guys knew Pedri had developed a crush on you when Gavi spied on his phone and saw him looking a post about a photoshoot you had done for Vogue España
"You like her?" Eric asked
"She's really nice" He had nodded blushing
"But you like her?"
"She is nice" Pedri repeated "She probably doesn't know me"
"C'mon, the girl loves sports, she's actually a Barca fan!!" Ansu replied as Pedri smiled shaking his head
"It's just a mere crush, it'll go away in a while" He said and everyone dropped the subject.
"¡Hola mis amores lindos!" (Hello my beautiful loves!) You smiled at the camera "Yo estoy bien y espero que ustedes se encuentren muy bien también y si no pues espero que este mensaje les anime un poquito... Les hablo para notificarles que como cosa rara" (I'm fine and I hope you're feeling very well too and if not, then I hope this message encourages you a little... I'm speaking to notify you that as a strange thing) You laughed lightly "Mis chicos de "Los Bichos" me han invitado nuevamente a ser parte de uno de sus magnificos episodios de su podcast, el episodio va a ser en vivo, podremos contestarles algunas de sus preguntas, mandar saludos, revelaré unas pocas cosas que se vienen en grande y bueno, las demás vainas que los chicos hacen, ustedes ya saben como es la cuestión así que sin más nada que decir los espero este jueves a las 21hrs de España. Les mando un besote bien grande y un abrazo muy cálido. Take care!" (My boys from "Los Bichos" have invited me again to be part of one of their magnificent episodes of their podcast, the episode will be live, we will be able to answer some of your questions, send greetings, I will reveal a few things that are coming Big and good, the rest of the things that the boys do, you already know what the matter is, so without further ado, I'll wait for you this Thursday at 9:00 p.m. in Spain. I send you a big kiss and a very warm hug)
It was set. He cleared up his whole agenda, just to have Thursday night free all to himself... And well, to Fer as well.
"Why are you so suddenly obsessed with that girl?" Fer asked as Pedri got ready to watch your Live, he had connected his laptop to his TV and his phone besides him "You've been a month and something suddenly Y/N this and Y/N that"
"She's good" Pedri shrugged his shoulders
"You like her?"
"Puff, no" When Pedri turned around to see his brothers face he knew he couldn't lie "Maybe a little?" Fer raised his eyebrows
"I'm not gonna make fun of you" Pedri sighed
"Okay, she's gorgeous and I like her" Pedri admitted
"She seems really nice"
"Torre says he has a friend that has met her and that she's the sweetest" Pedri replied "I kinda want to meet her"
"Slide into her DM's and say: Hey, big fan. Wanna go out?" Pedri laughed
"Sure, she will say yes quickly" Both brothers laughed as the Podcast started.
"Welcome to another episode of Los Bichos, today we'll be talking a bit of everything but mostly about our love humiliations or just humiliating thing that has happened to us in general"
"And who's better to say that than Y/N Y/L/N?" Other guy said presenting you
"My life isn't that bad, Adrián" You replied smiling "Worse than Miguel's can't be, that's for sure" You point with your lips to the guy sitting in front of you as he shocked points at himself and laughs in disbelief
"Well, she's got a point" The first guy talked
"Nelson talks as if he has the greatest life ever" Miguel said pointing to the first guy with his head
"I don't actually but everyone's life is better than yours, pendejo" You all laughed out loud "Ve, ¿Y tú aquí haciendo algún tipo de propaganda?" (Look, are you here doing some kind of propaganda?) You shook your head
"¿Por qué dices eso?" (Why you say that?) You ask
"The big Barcelona jersey you have on" You look down and smile
"Mano, no; I'm not doing anything. Si supieras que el Barcelona me había enviado un email hace como tres semanas y yo nunca les respondí" (If you know, the Barcelona sent me an email three weeks ago and I never answered them)They laughed "Saben que yo soy fan del club y me hicieron una camisa con mi nombre y el número de mi jugador favorito" (They know I'm fan of the club and they made me this Jersey with my name and the number of my favorite player) You casually replied not thinking too much of it
"Which is?"
"Un jugador" You smirked playing with your golden bracelete, they started yelling a few "A"'s "B, C y D" They laughed "¿Tú creíste que yo iba a ser mongola para caer en esa vaina? No, señor" (Did you thought I was going to be a fool and fell into the trap? No, sir) You shook your head smiling "¡Maldición! I forgot this is live!" (Shit) You yelled "How are you guys doing?" You ask winning a round of laughter with the guys
"We're starting here... Y/N, care to tell us something humiliant that has happened to you?"
"My whole life" You replied as they laughed "No, kidding. Once I had something going on with this guy, it was December and..."
If Pedri liked you, by the end of that live he was most likely in love with you. You were simple and very funny, your sense of humour was the thing that ended up pulling him into you.
He honestly felt like a fan of his but with you. It was terrifying as hell.
"Ad, ¿Si vas a hacer por fin el stand up comedy show?" You asked
"Yes, I will be doing it" Adrián nodded "Why?"
"I wanna go" You pout a bit
"You're invited, don't worry"
"Remember everyone when is it" Nelson said
"This Sunday at 20hrs in the Batuar Hotel Cotton House, make sure to get the tickets as soon as possible they're almost sold out"
"We need those" Pedri said immediately grabbing his phone and getting on the app "¡Hostias, joder! It's too slow"
"Calm down, we'll get one"
After fifteen painful minutes when Pedri was about to finish the purchase, his screen filled out with the No Availabe words
"This event is sold out"
"¡Puta que le parió!" Pedri exclaimed feeling sad
"It's okay bro. She's here in Barcelona, we can see her any other day" Pedri sighed
"I really wanted to see her this Sunday"
"Maybe not this Sunday, but eventually you will" Pedri sighed in annoyance
"Anyway, let's finish watching this" He murmured his eyes on the screen.
His eyes fixated on the Barca home jersey you were wearing and the words my favorite player's number, he wondered... It could be his? Also... You looked incredibly good with the club of his dreams, he couldn't help but imagine you on the stands cheering on for him when suddenly he got himself out of that dreamland. He was really starting to seem like his fans who daydreamed about him.
His mood was down a bit Friday and Saturday when they were at training and Ansu came up to them
"I hope all of you are free tomorrow"
"Why?" Gavi asked as Ansu pulled out six tickets
"We're going to see Adrián Jiménez's live show were Y/N will be present"
Pedri quickly ran and grabbed a ticket, his mood lifted up completely, he grabbed Ansu's head and kissed him
"Thanks, amigo"
"Thanks, nothing. I will be your best man at the wedding"
...
Sunday rolled in and Pedri was nervous and excited, he would be in the same place as you, hopefully met you and make himself fall in love with you once again. You just had a thing that drew him into you and he liked it. Your Latina beauty keeping him on his feet everytime, you way of expressing yourself, your carisma, everything he saw from you, he liked it.
Thanks to Eric, they were a bit late, fifteen minutes late, the show had already started as they were looking for their table, thanfully everyone was into Adrián, they didn't recognized the six football players coming in, everyone but you.
You were surprised seeing them here, you didn't know they were fans of Adrián or the rest of the guys, but you were even more surprised when three of them sat in your table, you greeted them with a little "Buenas noches" and a warm smile, Pedri who was besides you smiled widely at hearing your voice
"Ferran Torres"
"Pablo Torre"
"Pedri"
You smile lightly "Y/N Y/L/N"
"Chica, deja de estar chanceando" (Girl, stop joking around) Pedri saw you lift your hands a bit surprised being scolded by your friend
"¡Pero no estoy chanceando!" (I'm not joking around!) You exclaimed a little
"¿Ah no?" He shook his head "What are you doing?"
"Greeting my tablemates" The place laughed at your face "¡Y si lo estuviese no es tú peo, mano!" (And if I were, it's not your deal, man!)
"Oye, mira tú-"
"¡'Tas en medio de un show, sigue hablando de como dejaste caer el telefono en el baño de la estación del metro!" (You're in the middle of a show, keep talking about how you dropped the phone in the subway station bathroom!)
"Verga y lo más arrecho es que lo tenía que usar urgente" (Fuck and the most awful thing is that I had to use it urgently) His words made the whole place laugh "You were with me that day"
"I definitely wasn't"
"¿Cómo que no estabas pero sabes lo que pasó?" (How come you weren't there but do you know what happened?)
"You texted it in the groupchat, tonto"
"Shit, I always do that, I eat and I pass pics, I shit and I pass pics, I walk and I pass pics, I play FIFA and I pass pics... I need to stop doing that"
"Please don't" You asked laughing "Me acuerdo aquel día que estabamos todos haciendo una videollamada, tú fuiste a hacerte una merienda y te ha salido una tarántula en uno de los empaques" (I remember that day we were all making a video call, you went to make yourself a snack and a tarantula came out in one of the packages)
"MOVING ON!" Laughter filled the room.
Besides your greeting and you apologising for your friend's craziness, you never spoke with any other of the guys just small smiles when the even was done you said your goodbyes to them and went to Adrián, Pedri sighed having lost his chance to talk to you
"C'mon, man. You let her go"
"I just couldn't do it... I don't know what happened"
"You'll have another chance, bro" Gavi patted Pedri's back smiling tightly at him "She was watching you too" The youngster smirked making Pedri shake his head
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, guys. Ya vuelvo" (I'll be back) And with that Pedri left them.
He splashed water on his face and cleaned his hands, slightly disappointed in the fact he didn't do anything else to talk to you. He shook his head
"Quizás no es hora" (Maybe it's not time) He murmured looking at his mirror reflection before leaving the bathroom.
It was like a destiny thing.
You were in front of him and seemed a bit lost, looking around with a confused face.
"¿Todo bien?" (Everything alright?) A male's voice pulled you out of your thoughts, turning around to meet the owner's voice
"Sí, todo bien. Sólo que, no tengo ni la menor idea de dónde puede estar la salida de este lugar" (Yes, everything's good. It's just, I don't have a single clue on where the exit of this place can be) You admitted "El muy..." You moved your moth but no sound came out "puto de Adrián me dejó por un chance que le salió, se fue así sin decir nada y..." (The... fucker of Adrián left me for a date he got, he left without saying anything and...) You sighed "I'm kinda lost in this big place" You smiled shyly "What about you?"
"Bathroom" You nod letting out a little 'Oh!' "Want me to help you?" Your eyebrows went up for a bit "I'm not an incredibly knowner of the place, I've come here twice... Maybe walk you to your car?" You smile shaking your head
"I would take up on your offer but I also don't have anyone to take me home, my car broke down yesterday, Adrián offered me the ride and you are probably busy or just want to have the rest of the night off, so I wouldn't like for you to ditch your plans to spend it glued to me because I was left alone" You smiled as he shook his head
"It wouldn't be a problem for me" Pedri said "I would love to help you, I can give you a ride if you like" He smiled softly "Venga, vamos" He offered your his arm "Maybe you can tell me about more of those healthy recipes? Or talk to me in Venezuelan slang?" You both laughed
"There are too many recipes I can share with my Venezuelan accent but we would need more time for that than a single ride" You accepted his arm watching him smirk
You looked at him smiling lightly "Then how about we can go for a coffee next time?"
°°° °°° °°° °°°
Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld
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brandwhorestarscream · 5 months ago
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TFP Reincarnation au
Today i'm not in the mood for unhappy endings. How about the ending being like the one in " megaop twins au"?With the war ending positively for the Decepticons?
It's because i want Orion having a life with his bf and they multiples sparklings? Yes. SS and SW having healthier frames so the can have they little ones?too. I have ideias for others like Tfp Prowl, for example? yeah
So... consider. In this situation, Orion isn't turned back into Optimus Prime. Not permanently, anyway. The autobots manage to steal him back from the cons, nabbing his firstborn reincarnated bitty as well. They get the recently recharged Matrix back into him, but something is Wrong™
Mainly that the baby's health takes a turn for the worst. They've been screaming and crying ever since Optimus returned to them, and the Prime himself has no memory of his infant. It's very clearly his child, looks just like him, but he has no recollection of ever being sparked, no knowledge of this tiny baby. And the poor kid is spiraling: they're so, so little, and Orion's spark is distinctly different from Optimus. They are functionally different people. The baby cries and carries on fir hours, days, until they run out of energy and wilt. They're limp and unresponsive curled up in a little ball, wracked with fever and shaking, vents shallow and wheezing. All they do is whimper and cover away from anyone who approaches them, and brays mournfully at his mother-not-mother whenever Optimus gets too close
Ratchet's the only one qualified to diagnose the issue, but they can all tell the sparkling is dying. Suffering from a shattered maternal bond, and he's so little it's killing him. He's doomed to a slow, painful death as his spark dwindles without support and his systems shut down one by one
Optimus can't stand to watch it happen. He knows the sparkling will die if they continue on this way, and... he doesn't have it in him to let the little one extinguish. There's only one thing to do, and he removes the Matrix from his chest late at night while watching over the bitty in the medbay.
When Orion returns to consciousness, his last memory before everything went black was that group of strangers abducting him and his son, and he's horrified when he sees what state his baby is in. He grabs the kid, straps them into his alt mode, and peels out of the base as fast as possible. Hailing Megatron on his comms, saying he's escaped and mini-Orion desperately needs medical attention. Thankfully, they're able to stabilize the baby with an energon infusion and close spark-to-spark contact with his mother. Crisis averted
Idk exactly how going about achieving peace between them all would go, but. Nyeh. It's not important and I'm lazy. Perhaps Orion discovers his true calling as a diplomat, maybe the decepticons succeed with the Iacon Database and are victorious. Whatever works
Point is, Megop get to go home to Cybertron as equals, and start building a proper life for their bitties together. All's well that ends well
As for Starscream and Soundwave, it's not so much an issue of their bodies not being healthy, but rather their bodies not being the right size. As I mentioned before, their Aligned designs are much more streamlined than previous iterations, sleek and made for extreme speed rather than physical combat. It's not surprising they'd struggle with babies that are chunkier akin to their previous iterations. If they were to get caught in the reincarnation loop, there's no way the carrying cycles would be undiscovered, and they'd likely have to undergo cesarean.
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lookatmysillies · 4 months ago
Text
A Follow-Up to Tov’s Round 3 Log: Himei’s Perspective of the end of Round 3 to the end of Round 4
"Tov!" The scream was ripped from somewhere deep in Himei's chest, and still it couldn't be heard over the raucous roars of the crowd. The world seemed to rip apart at the seams around her. Contestants, viewers, guards, and guardians alike swirled around her like a raging storm. A group of gamblers in the back of the overlook were spitting in rage, crying out how the competition was rigged, it's rigged! He had it! Someone had thrown up at the sight of the gore on stage, and others around them pushed and crowded against each other to get away from the foul odor. An alien nearly trampled right over Tov's head in the crush, and Himei cried out in indignation and panic, dropping to her knees to try and shield Tov's unconscious form.
"Tov?" She shook her gently. Nothing. Cursing, Himei wrapped one arm around Tov's shoulders and hooked the other underneath her knees. If there was one good thing about Tov's genes in this situation, it was how light she was. And if there was one good thing about Himei's modeling career, she didn't lack in muscle mass.
Faintly, Himei could hear her company for the night, Guardian Iquia and Halo, calling for her in the frantic crowd. She didn't care to try and find them. She had more important things to do.
Cassio was difficult to find, but when Himei finally came across Tov's guardian, it was obvious Cassio had been tracking them down, too. Himei was briefly baffled by how Cassio knew where to look before Tov's metal wristband glinted under the light when Himei adjusted her in her arms.
Then she had an inkling.
"Help," Himei wheezed, arms trembling with exertion. Tov might've been light, but hauling her up and down several flights of stairs in search of Cassio was no easy task. "Help her. Get her out. Don't let her come to see the next round."
If anyone had overheard that, Himei probably would've been laid out into a similar state as Tov. Humans shouldn't order aliens around. Ever.
But if it bothered Cassio, she didn't say anything. The situation at hand was too urgent for that.
"Get..." she repeated as Cassio took Tov into her long, pale arms, a mimicry of a human's. "Get her out of here. Please get..."
"Thank you," Cassio interjected, calm but firm, "for your help. I will take it from here."
Cassio disappeared as fast as she'd come to stand before Himei, and Himei trailed after her uselessly. She tried to see them over the crowd, but she was too short and the crowd was too thick.
The last glimpse she caught of Tov were her limp feet dangling over Cassio's arm, adorned in black fit for a funeral.
Tallis was with her the night before her round, having snuck over. He peered at Himei from behind his uneven braids, deep green eyes round and observant.
"What?" she eventually asked. Red indents were pressed into her arms where they rested on the little kitchen island.
Tallis scratched his bare shoulder awkwardly, legs criss-crossing where he sat on Himei's (temporary) bed. "It's just been a hard day."
She smiled ruefully, though the bitterness wasn't directed at him. "Every day of this has been hard and it's only the beginning." A pause. "But I know what you mean. That was... hard to watch."
She said it like she was disturbed by it just the right amount. Not so disturbed that she'd come back to her quarters feeling ill, bursting into tears the second she closed the door behind her. When they were kids, she might've been more vulnerable with this sweet, honest boy she loved so much.
But they weren't kids anymore.
"He was my friend," Tallis murmured, his hands fidgeting in his lap. "I really thought he was going to win. I thought I'd get to talk to him again. Or... something. I don't know what I thought."
A sad laugh bubbled up in Himei's throat. "I liked him too. And Moran. Sweet Moran." She covered her sweaty forehead with her hand. "Everything feels so real all of a sudden. Before, I didn't... I just, I didn't... I didn't think."
Tallis nodded, mouth open in a slow inhale. "Neither did I." His eyes had a sort of shine to them now. "Now I might lose you in a day."
"Hey." Himei pushed herself off the counter and sat on the bed next to Tallis, bumping his arm with hers. "You're not going to lose me. Not now." She smiled. "Worry about your round, not mine." It was said in a joking tone, but she meant it. She did.
Tallis sank onto his side to rest his head on her lap, his face twisted in anxiety. "I think I'm gonna lose, Himei."
The very thought of it made her gut plummet like a stone. "No. Tal, of course not. You're more talented than I am, you won't lose. Don't even say that." She picked at the elastic in a loose braid and started to redo it to keep her shaking hands occupied.
Tallis was silent, which meant he disagreed but didn't want to tell her. He never even disagreed with her outright. Not once. Sometimes she wished he'd stand up for himself more with her.
Min was cold. Always cold.
Until the very moment she wasn't.
For a few minutes, just a few, Himei forgot where she was. The performance came alive beneath the flashing lights. Min, for the first time Himei had ever seen, came alive. Scathing looks and tense, sharp moves turned to bright, unpracticed grins and free steps and spins. Something about her suddenly seemed almost shy as she sang and danced her way right into hopeful, unfamiliar territory.
Min was alive for just a few minutes in her life.
Then the life left her eyes in a second, as if it had never been there in the first place.
Himei stood, stunned, her hands still gripping Min's. She let go in a panic when she tasted blood in her mouth, and she spluttered, barely registering the thunk of Min's body hitting the ground. She stood rooted to the spot. There was blood clumping her eyelashes. Droplets of blood had splattered onto her arms and hands. There was blood in her mouth.
She coughed and gasped, dark eyes stuck wide open. She barely registered the sounds of the crowd that seemed so deafening during every round she'd seen so far, or the click of a collar around her neck.
Being escorted back to the contestants' quarters was a blur of red-tinted vision and ringing ears. Only when the guards led her down the hall and towards the washrooms did she register something other than the taste of metal.
Tov stared at her with wide, shocked eyes. She was still wearing a patient's gown. She could have been aimlessly wandering with nothing to keep her mind off the round.
Himei made a choked sound and spit for what must have been the third time to try and get the taste out of her mouth. Red stained the spit that stuck to her lower lip.
"I won," she said blankly. The guards gave her a nudge into the washroom, and before they could close the door, she uttered once again, "I won."
The door shut behind her.
Round 4: Himei Win
Featuring Tov (@ivanttakethis) and following up Tov's log during Round 3, and Min (@starry-skiez)
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flowercrowngods · 1 year ago
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Please a little peak of winter soldier or your ideas on it!! I need to expand on my obsession with your writing since I still need to mentally prepare for the time travel one 🤍🤍
hdhdhd please lower your expectations love 😂🤍 but here, as you wish, some kas!eddie winter soldier-esque thing 🫶 (cw blood and violence obviously)
Steve barely feels the impact when his body hits the floor, muddy and rotten and decaying as it is. He barely feels anything anymore, has gone numb even though he’s sure he’s still crying. There is not enough strength in his body to keep a hold of his bat, and watching it fall from his hand doesn’t feel real.
It’s a movie. This is a movie. A bad dream, a nightmare. One he can’t wake up from. One he refuses to wake up from. Not without Eddie.
An earth-shattering scream cuts through the dark, leaving Steve stunned and groaning as the creature’s cry sets alight his body, making him feel every cut, every bruise, every bleeding wound that start to make him feel lightheaded.
He tries to reach for the nail bat, his movements slow and sluggish, his head pounding, his body in agony, and his heart shattered and shattering still.
A foot lands on his wrist, making him cry out with a force he didn’t know he still had left in his body. A sign of life. A baby’s first cry; a terrified boy’s last scream.
The creature — Kas, as the kids call him, but they’re wrong, they’re wrong! It’s Eddie, it’s Ed, it’s—
Steve, he hears Robin’s voice echoing in his mind as he watches Eddie bend down to lift the bat, his face contorted with rage and determination. That’s not Eddie. That’s not the boy you—
I don’t care. If there’s a chance he’s still… It’s been months, Bobbie. He’s— It’s Eddie! I can’t… I can’t just… Let me try, okay?
“Eddie,” he rasps, bile rising in his throat as he does. Or maybe it’s blood. He coughs, attempting to roll onto his side but Kas only crunches his wrist underneath his foot, nearly overwhelming Steve with the pain that makes his vision go black for a second, two, three.
He blinks away the blood, sweat and tears, and looks up to meet eyes that used to be the prettiest, deepest brown he’s ever seen. Big, pretty doe eyes. But what he sees are the eyes of a predator.
What he sees is a face contorted with rage, with fear, with confusion. With pain.
Eddie’s hand around the nail bat shifts as Steve speaks, the nail studded shield falling from his other hand. Steve thinks about reaching for it, but what good would it bring?
“It’s okay, Eddie,” he rasps, wheezes, swallowing around the taste of iron. “The kids are safe. And you’ll be, too. They’re k— killing him. It’s okay. We’ll get you home.”
Kas screams again, his wail calling through the night, but there’s no one left to answer. No one but Steve, who whimpers.
He raises the bat. Ready to strike. And Steve knows. Knows that this is it. Distantly, he hopes that Eddie isn’t aware enough to witness this. Hopes that Kas’s memories won’t turn into Eddie’s when this is all over.
“It’s okay,” he croaks. “I—“
And then, with another pained, agonised scream, Eddie strikes.
🌷 credits go to @steveshairychest for giving me the brain worms for this scene way back when with this
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