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#idk if im gonna post this on ao3 or not but here it is anyway kdkzkfkzd
oceanwithouthermoon · 9 months
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kubosai... save me...
kubosai
save me kubosai
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boxwinebaddie · 4 months
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hi uncle nina! it's my birthday today and u don't have but will u pretty plz consider reposting that part of ch6 of rm where raven in on the phone with kenny b4 his hate with jers? i thought it was super cute and i really wanted to read it :3
awwww, happy birthday, darling! i hope it's as lovely as you are!
and i--sigh.
okay.
i hate complicated feelings surrounding chapter six ( aka the introduction to the iconique ravesey hate that i deleted from stress ) because i actually did love it...i just rushed the hell out of it, didn't plan it out very well and it was a mess. it could have been a lot better.
part of why i deleted it was actually because of that ravenstan/kenny phonecall because i felt worried that i revealed too much about how not cool and actually boy-failure-y stan was too early and could have kept the suspense going longer but aaaaaa i just wanted y'all to see how CUTE he was, like??? and how nervous! AAAA!!!
buuut considering the cat has been out of the bag, or rather, the raven has flown the nest for some time now...and it's the beauteous day you were born...i will humbly present you with this b-day present in the form of my incompetent idiot girl ramblings/writings, though, i fear it is not at all as grand the gift of your life is.
so, without further ado darlings, here is the endearing, embarrassing phone call ( it was over discord actually ) that ravenstan had with kenny prior to showing up to blondie's for his little hate-date with jerseykyle. it's a mess and unedited, but regardless, please know that from whatever hurts or harms you, i hope you heal, please rem(ember) to smile, pendejos,
and to now, as always, angels:
please enjoy the very, very...
worst part of your day. ;)
-uncle nina <333
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the-kipsabian · 9 months
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maybe instead of a fic writing goal list i should make a fic reading goal list huh
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weirdopponent · 1 year
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Today she is red. Glazed in impatient strokes of mine, a gift, red like cremation, like the still-living coals.
She bows her head, a lamb, and allows me to touch her face. She shakes, but is not flinching. "I don't have to do it like this."
Grace does not say anything. Grace pushes into my hands, till they curve under her jaw. Till I can feel the shape of her skull. Till I can time the pace of blood running through her heart. She knows it was a lie - no one else will be able to love her like this, as she is, as she will be.
I break her into pieces.
I dismantle her. I smash her with my open palm until she becomes a formless crumple, blood blooming slowly with each strike. Her dark hair I hack off with safety scissors like gravestones crumbling in bad weather. Her clothes I burn in the industrial furnace - nothing I can keep, so ash it all will be.
The rest is all artifice - I do not change her skin. I open it, step inside it, wearing it, I become her. I wear a too-tight sports bra that makes my ribs ache, each breath restrained against the form, precious. And with the right shirt - it almost looks like me. The memory of her lies crumpled at my feet, an unceremonious death. It hurts like nothing else could hurt, to outlive your daughter. But that's no problem of mine.
Today I am red. My nail polish is chipping, stains the cuticles like blood. Mother looks at me like it is blood, like Grace's body lies crumpled on my feet, instead of in the lines of mine. "I am the only way she could be."
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Younger Child
Summary: you've been searching for years, twenty fingers and a person powerful enough to host the curse they unlock. a curse so horrible that even the jujutsu society would much rather destroy it's cursed objects than attempt to find a person to host them all to eliminate it permanently. but that isn't what you want, is it? well, let's see what you do instead.
before you read this,, all inspiration goes to @XxIllusionGhostxX on wattpad, for their story Cursed Objects -- thank you so much for the permission to tell this story in my own way, paradox!
Chapter One | Chapter Two Chapter Three
“Yowai Akuma”, the Weak Demon. A name which only meant something to sorcerers worth their weight; the name of a curse with the aura of death; a curse that killed without lifting a finger against their opponent; a curse that left no witnesses, not human, sorcerer or cursed spirit. They were a curse that could’ve been on par with even the Curse King. But they were also a curse that vanished centuries ago, one that was never found again.
The clock across from me read one-twenty-three in the morning. I sat in the dim corner of my room, leaning against the wooden closet door and fiddling with the delicate relic in my hands. The necklace glinted in the soft light of the old street lamp outside my window, I needed to close my curtain properly. I rubbed circles on the rim of the kintsugi necklace, feeling the smoothness it gained after years of the habit. 
It’d been several years since I began my search for the Curse King’s fingers. Twenty cursed objects which together would cause catastrophe for humans, curses and sorcerers alike: scattered across the islands of Japan like seeds cast upon farmland. Throughout those years of searching, I managed to chisel just one stroke on my tally, gaining a single finger through sheer luck. 
Now, after more fruitless labour, I enrolled in an academy in Sendai: Sugisawa Third High School. This school was the target of Tokyo Jujutsu College’s newest lead on the Curse King himself, Ryomen Sukuna’s finger was supposedly on the compound. 
The necklace slipped between my fingers; I hadn’t noticed I had been squeezing it till it did. I scoffed. 
“Tomorrow’s another chance. Y/N.”
My phone buzzed on my kitchen counter on the other side of the room. I got to my feet, brushed off my shorts and stuffed the necklace into my pocket. As I rose to my full stature, I scanned over my apartment: a one-room unit with a sleeping area and a kitchen. It wasn’t the most malleable of homes, considering the bed needed to be shoved over to the left, or else there’d be no access to my closet, not that there was much in there anyway. The kitchen was decent, with a gas stovetop oven, a double-basin sink, a small fridge and plenty of counter space.
I opened my phone to the expected message. Kaeru was the only contact I spoke to; the only number on my phone, actually. He was the only person beyond my goal I bothered to talk to at all. I hadn’t seen him since I left to be closer to the school I’d be attending. His text read of my first day of school tomorrow, asking if I was nervous or excited.
Thrilled was the only answer that came to mind. 
‘You: not sure.. but there’s no point in being scared, you know?’
‘蛙 (frog): either way, its cool isnt it? you get to meet a whole bunch of new people!’.
‘蛙 (frog): anyway its pretty late, i have an english quiz tomorrow. i have to sleep or else miss andrews will have my head. night (y/n)!’
‘You: g’night, kaeru!’ 
I shut off the screen before the next bubble of ellipses could become words. Plugging the phone back in, I dragged my way to my bed.
 Tomorrow was another chance; whether it’s the right one is another story.
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jonny-b-meowborn · 2 years
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I think I'm done with the Jonny/Tim cannibalism fanfic? I'm still gonna like, read though it a few times and edit it, and I still wanna do some drawings for it before I share it, but overall I'm pretty satisfied with it. Big win for the me community
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julietsbody · 9 months
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ultraviolence
words : 2,261
tags : gun kink , fucked with a gun , predator / prey , reader has a prey kink , peacekeeper ! snow , light sadism , size difference , size kink , obsessive behavior , power play , creampies , orgasm delay / denial
a/n : idk what came over me whilst writing this im gonna be so honest…. semi inspired by Cherienymphe‘s “everybody knows that i’m a good girl, officer” fic!!! its so good
p.s : this is also posted on my ao3!!! ( divider by pommecita )
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snow barely had any empathy for people, let alone any districts. he was a man who fell into poverty himself, but he got out of it, he was a capitol and he’s friends with those that come from the highest statuses. normally people felt pity for those in the districts, they scavenged for food, or proper clothing. not snow, he thought it was a game to watch them snatch up fresh bread and run like their lives depend on it. because it does, they survive, they live another day and satisfy their hungers, if they get caught, they’ll be dead in seconds— especially if coriolanus catches them. 
he liked the power he had, the fact that he could do almost anything he desired and get away with it because the districts had been committing a crime anyway, he just stopped them from doing it any more. he liked that they would cower underneath him, beg for their lives, he liked that he had the power to give them a simple warning, to let them off the hook, but he never did. 
not until now. 
he found himself chasing yet another bunny, heavy boots padding behind your thin, poorly made shoes. 
something about the adrenaline rushing through your veins had a heat developing in between your legs, like it was a primal reaction, an animalistic urge. he nearly noticed in the way your steps staggered, but that could be lack of spacial awareness, which he noted that you had. you were so busy running in straight lines you didn’t even bother to juke him or to hide. 
easy prey, aren’t you? 
he thought that at first, until your steps suddenly changed, turning to the right. 
and you had disappeared between the greens and tall trees, his wild eyes raced around the all too silent forest. he tuts, a low taunt, “where are you, bunny?” 
his voice came out sing - songy, having your breathing shake from the tree you hid behind, your thighs pressed together. 
how was a hunt so intimate, so sexual? 
“why are you hiding from me, bunny?” his voice is softer, as if he’s pouting. 
you hear his boots snap twigs with ease, crush leaves into fragile pieces, dip through mud. he was getting closer, like a wolf stalking it’s prey, like he knew where you hid. you tried to hold your breath, to keep yourself hidden, but it was no use. he rounded the corner, and you ran into a sprint again, nearly dropping the bread you had taken. 
if you hadn’t dropped it then, you were sure to now. 
his arms took you into a threatening hold, at first pushing you into a tree, then slamming you against the floor when you wriggled at his grasp. his panting breath, your fearful whines, the begging that sat on your tongue silently, it was as if sex had been happening even with your clothes on. your tears well with tears at being slammed on the hard ground, and he feels the fabric of his pants tighten at the sight. 
“please,” here comes the begging, music to his ears, “it’s my first time stealing, i’ve never done this before—“ 
“is that so?” his head cocks to the side, holding down your wriggling hands, “i’m sure i’ve seen you before, doll.” 
“you must be mistaken,” your puffy lips part, breath heaving as you try to pull away from him. 
it doesn’t work, he just simply holds you down, he easily could with one hand if he wanted to, “are you calling me a liar?” 
it was embarrassing, truly, being so turned on by the way his voice deepened with firmness, by the way he held you down with such ease, “of course not, i would never—“ 
“you just did, though,” his tone is biting, typically he doesn’t let conversations last this long, but something about you was different. his eyes catch on to the way your thighs are rubbing together, not in a way to try to free yourself from him, but where you crave friction. “my, my, what do we have here?” 
his hand taps against your thigh, pulling up the hem of your dress, his eyes land on yours, waiting for confirmation. 
you immediately nod, it’s so quick, impatient, he adores it. 
his long fingers lace around both of your wrists whilst the other pries your thighs apart, noticing the way fluids soil your panties. 
“how cute,” he observes out loud, allowing his hunger to show in the way he nearly rips your panties apart whilst harshly tugging the, down, watching how your legs immediately fall apart into a spread, panties hanging off your ankle for dear life. you were so desperate, you were willing to do this in the woods, present yourself to a peacekeeper just because you had gotten horny merely off a chase. 
his hand smoothes against your right inner thigh, feeling goosebumps form in prickles, and the way you shiver underneath each touch. his hand is large against your cunt, a single finger moving through it to feel the wetness, your hips immediately buck, desperate for more. 
his chuckle is soon silenced by his hand raising to his mouth, just so he can taste your slick. 
removing it with a pop, a curt smile tugs at his lips, sweet, like honey. 
his hand smoothes down your inner thigh again, and you realize he’s teasing you, “officer—“
his thumb is threateningly close to your cunt, “hm?” 
“touch me,” you breathe out, “please.” 
how funny is it that the last time you said please to him you were begging for your life? 
“like this?” his eyebrow quirks, pad of his thumb moving to swipe against your clit, your back arches ever so slightly. 
the whine that emits from you is far too loud for his liking, so he hushes you with gentle shhs, thumb rubbing slow circles on the bundle of nerves. 
“you don’t want people to hear us, hm?” he hums, “to find out you’re letting a peacekeeper touch you in such ways, truly scandalous.” 
he can imagine it being front page of the district newspaper, girl caught fucking peacekeeper in woods! 
your fingers twitch in his grasp, finding his movements far too slow, and he finds your movements and whines far too annoying. 
he moves to plunge a finger into your cunt, making your whines hush to whimpers, unintelligible words. 
“real impatient, aren’t you?” his finger moves slow at first, watching the way your hips move against it in response, “maybe i should just put you in your place.” 
he removes his finger, watching the way you desperately clench around nothing. his hand moves to grab his machine gun, which he had ditched as soon as he threw you to the floor, he finally releases your wrists, you have a chance to run if you wanted to, but you didn’t— because you didn’t want to run, because the fear that filled you when he aimed his gun at you had even more of your fluids escaping the oyster between your legs. 
he moves to cock it, taking it off the safety. 
“fully loaded,” he reminds you, but also seems to be reminding himself. 
he seems to believe you don’t believe him in the way you look up at him through glossy eyes, and he moves to aim his gun at a nearby tree, one to your right, directly behind you. and he shot, birds cawed as they flew away from the loud shots, he noticed how you flinched, immediately moving to the safety of his grasp, and he only smiled, how adorable that you find safety in the man who had enough power to kill you in seconds. 
he hushes your fears, not reassuring anything about your safety as he moves the gun tip your legs back apart, one of his hands leaving it as he wraps it around your wrists once more, holding you back down in a missionary position. the hand on his gun was less steady now, finger tight against the trigger, it had you biting your lip. he traces along your inner thigh with the tip of the gun, “you’re gonna be a good girl, right?” 
he watches you immediately nod, so eager, “yes, yes, officer.” 
his gun passes a trail down to your cunt, pressing against your clit, he could shoot right now, the finger on the trigger was so tight, so unsupported. he could slip once and shoot directly into you, something about that thrilled you more, made your hips buck against the gun, practically riding the weapon. he admires your desperation, the way your face twists with pleasure as you move against the cool material that built the gun. 
he eventually pulls the tip of the gun down, until it’s at your entrance. 
he watches your eyes widen as the metal dips inside of you, spreading you open with ease. 
your hands flail in his tight hold, “it hurts— officer, wait—“ 
“hm?” he pauses for a mere second, “sweet bunny, you can take it.” 
the pain soon subdues to pleasure as he begins moving the gun again, pumping it in and out of you and coating the black of the weapon with your milky slick. whimpers of pain soon become moans of pleasure, the tears that had built a gloss over your eyes dipping down your cheeks as your eyes close, hips bucking against the weapon. 
“easy, bunny, easy,” his voice is strained, like seeing you cry awakens something within him, when your hips stop moving against his gun he continues to pump it, faster this time, “good girl, gonna cum all over my gun?” 
you nod, more tears escaping as the thrill of your possible death and the pleasure from the weapon that may cause it becomes all too much. a deep groan vibrates from his chest at the sight of you crying, lips parting to continue, “that’s it, good, good.” 
it’s as if you crying is enough to have him reaching his climax already, as if seeing you cry felt like jerking off. 
the gun widens the more it goes into you, stretching you until you’ll be nothing but a gaping mess from his gun when he’s done. 
so filthy, to be easily stretched out by something that has killed many, how terribly cruel of you, to be cumming on it. 
and the man who had done it is merely watching, admiring you like this was an art gallery, and you were the center piece. he notices the way you near your orgasm, as your hips can’t help but grind down on the gun, moans escaping past your nearly bitten to bleeding lips. and you start calling out to him, “officer, officer, please— can i cum— please.” 
a mere plead, and if snow was a good man, he would say yes, but he wasn’t one. 
“no, bunny, you ran from me,” his finger slides against the trigger, staring at you with a new tint glossing over his eyes, “do you think you deserve to cum?” 
“yes, i need to, i want—“ your breath quickens, mindlessly grinding down onto the gun. 
“no,” he pulls the gun out, depraving you of every wish. he notices the way you whimper, thighs pressing together and rubbing in desire to form friction. there was none, and soon he was tossing his gun to the side, tugging his pants and boxers down ever so slightly to free his cock, then prying your legs apart once more. 
he carefully moves himself between your legs, his hand around your wrists finally freeing them, admiring the red ring he left from how tight his grip was. the same hand moved to fall against your throat, fingertips dipping in to your delicate skin as he guides his dick to your entrance, carefully pushing into you. he feels you tense underneath him at the feeling of him filling you once more, the length and girth enough to reach your intestines, you were sure of it. 
once he bottoms out, he notices the way a bulge appears at your pelvis, popping up against the skin then falling to a settle with each thrust. his other hand moves to your mouth, his fingers spreading your pillow lips apart, your salty taste pressing against your own tongue. 
“taste yourself, bunny, so sweet, hm?” he grunts with each thrust, practically manhandling you with each snap of his hips, fingers dipping down your throat. he watches your eyes roll back, mumbling pleas for the satisfaction of your orgasm to finally come, your bodily fluids sticking to his pelvis and his dick, your walls pulsed around him, drooling onto his cock. 
he nears his climax almost immediately, nose scrunching slightly, “cum, cum for me, sweet bunny.” 
“officer—“ your back arches off the earthy ground as you finally reach your climax, moans vibrating against his flesh and he continues to thrust, riding out your orgasm, overstimulating you until he’s practically fucking you dumb. eventually, he bottoms out, pumping you nearly full of his cum. he moves his hand from your mouth, sticky from your saliva, and takes your panties off your ankle, pulling out and plugging your hole with your own panties. just so you don’t lose any of his cum. 
“there, now you can walk around with my cum inside of you, how sweet.” he takes his hands off of you, moving to tuck his softening dick away and standing. 
he offers your limp body a wink, swiping up his gun, and following up with a, “don’t let me catch you again, doll.” 
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pumpkinsy0 · 5 months
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tldr: @buddyaldridge is a 30 year old weirdo proshipper who talks shit about ppl behind their backs, block em and report if you can/want to
just wanna let everyone know theres a omegaverse mpreg dallyboy writer whos been an all around WEIRDOOOOO cause their brain is LITERALLY porn rotted and they cannot fathom ppl actually having fun at all, their @ is @buddyaldridge aka @pelopsides previously known as @madelynprior
in 2020-2022 the outsiders tumblr they used to be @madelynprior and theyre a hardcore dallyboy stan which is already fucking weird, but on top of that, they would make teen pregnancy omegaverse smut fics which??? and im not gonna give you the ss, nigga im givin yall the LINKKK to see it with your own eyes so you know im not crazy
how ik its them is bc on their acc RIGHT before they switched to their buddyaldridge acc, and before that acc was named “pelopides”, they used to go by “madeleinepryor”, how ik its the same person is bc on a good chunk of their post, theyd tag it as “#madeleinepryor dispatches” on top of that, they just straight up linked their ao3 acc😭😭
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heres what the link goes to, they linked their ao3 acc, they just changed their username on ao3 as well from madeleinepryor to greasers
now me calling them a proshipper isnt me talking out of my ass, they say it themselves like ughhhhjjj
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as for them talking about other ppl, i wont share ALL the screenshots bc idk if the ppl theyre talking bad about would rlly feel comfortable w those being posted, if they know, they can feel free to post it on their own accord, so like i said, wont share, but i HAVE seen some and i can conform that they have done it, its ABSOLUTELY NOT above them
for now ill post the ss i CAN post rn which just proves my point
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now ignoring that theyre talking smack, theyre just so odd and obviously didnt rlly think this through bc 1967 is ALREADY IMPLIED in the 60s, youre just incapable of reading things that arent about teen boys getting it on w each other PLEASE get a grip on reality😭😭
theyve talked about 14 year olds and their post on their acc just to shit on them, once again, GROWN ASS PERSON TWEAKIN OVER THE IDEAS OF A 14 YEAR OLD🗣️🗣️
NOW maybe your asking “how do you know the discord user and the tumblr user are the same person” AND I WILL ADMIT, while i DO have strong feelings they are the same person, its not 100% proven, HOWEVER buddyaldridge DOES go by buddy and that discord users name is buddy, so while its not concrete, the link IS there, once again, feel free to come to whatever conclusion you wanna come to about that
but what ISNT disputable is the fact that theyre a proshitter
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additionally just this??? reblog from them????
on its own, not MUCH, bit considering the fics they make this is SO weird like??????
and finally, ive heard that theyve specifically came for me about my haitian shepards and maybe even my heritage, saying that they hated race hcs??????like using me as an example, they ss my acc and talked shit, someone contacted me about it and they dont have ss of it specifically, but they can vouch for it, and im not just gonna dismiss that, bc while they dont have ss, they do have ss and proof of everything else, so i do believe them, and theyve said if they find it they would show them to me, do what you wanna with this info
ANYWAYS buddy, your brain is unironically pornrotted, ur being a lil baby who cant do anything but cry and moan online on discord of all places and ur doing all this as a 30+ year old, and its CRAZIER bc youre doing all this while having “minors dni” in your pinned post, while also writing about minors, in a fandom MOSTLY OF MIDDLE SCHOOLERS!!!! (aka minors!!! ik age is hard for you to grasp) on top of that, literally ANY and ALL race hcs is way more believable and enjoyable than any “ideas” you’ve been cooking up in that odd demented, shriveled up pea brain of urs
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anyways yea, that all i have to say, and im speaking for myself here, but i mean this with every fiber of my being, i dont know how you function in life but i DO NOT want you to go any farther, and i think others would/DO feel the same, ive seen what makes you cheer and i am PROUUUDDD to make you BOOOOO, you shouldnt be near minors at all, fictional or non fictional, you should BARELY be near other adults
plus if you go onto their acc rn, notice how when anon called them out, buddy aint even say they were wrong?? JUST SAYIN🗣️🗣️
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im tagging everything i can tag bc i DO NOTTTT want mfs interacting w their blog, and want as many ppl as possible to be aware, dont say anything to them, dont give them attention bc obviously they’ll think this is funny and post it on their shitty discord server or whatever and giggle like they arent a grown ass nigga w bills to pay, trying so hard to cling onto their high school days, making fics about a canon middle schooler getting banged and pregnant, pls block and report do whatever u wanna do, just plssss dont let this proshitter on this damn sight near kidssss😭😭
dont take this as me WANTING drama, i dont, i just dont want ppl coming in this fandom thinking posting this shit and doing this is ok, youre bullying ppl for doing harmless things meanwhile your just making straight porn about a weird ship left n right, thinking YOUUUUU of all ppl have the place to talk about anyone or anything like your opinion on anything is valid😭😭
you NEED stones thrown at you
if anyone has anymore ss send em to mmeeeeee, but in the mean time ill be doin my own thing wooooo‼️‼️🔥🔥
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theosphobia · 6 months
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Hello rvbblr, rvb tumblr, the 3 people always liking my posts.
I bring my first ever fanfiction. and its rvb. idk how ao3 works so im just gonna drop it in here and hope thats accceptable.... erm... anyways
Everyone got seperated; the reds and blues were scattered in a pirate stronghold. Their long range comms were down and pirates lurked around every corner trying to hunt the sim troopers down.
Washington had just survived a scuffle, breaking into a run as he heard familiar shouting not too far off. Just around a couple shipping containers, Wash found Caboose standing over a pirate, Freckles' barrel smoking from fresh fire.
The blue caught the solider in the side of his vision and raised the ai-assisted rifle towards him, confetti dispersed from the gun.
"Friendly Signature Detected."
"Agent Washington! Uhm, he was like that when I got here."
Wash pushed the thought of Caboose firing at him away, he was just glad to see a friendly face.
"Caboose! Have you seen anyone else?" Wash asked, jogging up to the larger character.
Caboose looked back down at the pirate he was resting his foot on,
"On our team Caboose."
"Oh! No." Caboose shook his head and moved away from the body, sizing up to Wash.
"Are you doing okay? You hurt anywhere?" Wash started to walk and the other followed closely.
"I'm a little stressed out... and hungry.." he started. "We should find Griff next!"
Wash chuckled and patted Caboose on the back, "Hey Freckles?" The gun chimed in response, "can you find any other friendly contacts?"
"Nearest Friendly Tag is 356m away. Identification: Lavernius Tucker."
"Awesome, Can you guide us to him?" Wash asked. The custom laser sight on the rifle turned on and pointed forward. Caboose stared curiously, turning the gun from side to side, the line remained aimed toward its original path. Caboose gave a coo of amazement.
"Lets get going, the sooner we find the others the better."
--
Wash and Caboose followed Freckles' guide until they hit a large pond in the cave; they could see the remainder of the pirate stronghold on the otherside, but the water seemed to stretch to the walls, and they couldn't see the bottom. The laser ran true straight across the water.
Washington stopped for a moment to think while Caboose took a couple steps into the pond.
"I saw something over here! It might be those sim troopers!"
A voiced called from not too far away. Wash cursed to himself, a group of red dots were moving towards them on his motion tracker.
"Maybe they know how we can get across!" Caboose cheered, turning around towards the noise and started walking. Wash caught him by the arm,
"Caboose no they're trying to kill us remember?"
"Oh yeah.."
"There's no time, we're just gonna have to go through it." Wash sighed, leading the blue giant back towards the water and stepping in.
"Uhm I can't swim very well.." Caboose started, standing a bit back from Wash.
"We're not swimming, our suits will recycle air for a while, we should just be able to walk along the bottom." Washington informed him. The other man didn't argue, stashed Freckles, and followed along, both of the started to move as fast as they could in half-ton armour in water as the shouting grew louder.
They were fully submerged for a while before Wash started to notice something wrong, he was wet.
"Uh 'boose.... buddy, not to scare you or anything but I think my armour is filling up with water." Wash could feel a cut in his kevlar around his neck. He must have gotten it in that fight earlier.
"Wuh oh.." Caboose had stopped and turned to look at Wash, somehow he had managed to be moving faster than the freelancer. "Should we go back?" There was a tinge of panic in his voice.
"We can't... we just have to move faster, it can't be that much farther now" He tried holding his hand to seal the hole but water still managed to seep through his fingers, the water was hitting his waist now.
Caboose nodded and reached back, grabbing Wash's free hand, and started pulling him along so their treck sped up.
At some point, the weight behind him stalled.
"Agent Washington?"
"It's in my helmet."
Wash couldn't see, but Caboose's eyes widened. He moved closer to Washington,
"Freckles uhm.. how much further?" The blue asked as he began picking up Wash and slinging him over his shoulder without protest.
"Nearest Friendly Tag is 189m away"
Panic was rising in his voice, "okay thank you Freckles!" His speed was considerably lessened with the extra weight but that didn't stop Caboose from making his strides as quick as possible.
--
Wash had stopped responding about halfway from their predictament. Caboose didn't stop moving until they breached the shore on the other side.
Caboose laid Washington on the ground and unholstered Freckles, laying it behind them.
"Freckles you lookout for bad guys."
"Affirmative."
Oh crap oh crap oh crap... Caboose's hands shook as his fingers fumbled with the clasps on Wash's helmet and chestplate.
Water poured out as the seals broke, Wash's hair clung to his forehead. His chest laid still.
What do I do what do I do?? Think Michael think!! Caboose tried to remember what Doc had taught them ages ago. CPR CPR...
"First check to see if they're breathing! If they're not then you'll probably have to perform CPR. Since Grif already knows how to do it he'll be my demonstration."
Caboose glanced at the still freelancer, his chest was still, their chest moves when they breath right?
"Remember, you guys are wearing half-ton armour so you won't have to compress as hard as you would if you weren't. You should press down twice per second, there's songs that help but Beyoncé is timeless so we're gonna use Crazy In Love." Caboose positioned himself above Wash, tried to remember the correct hand shape, and hovered above the freelancer's chest. What if I mess up I don't want to kill Wash he's not special like Church is... he won't come back..
He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves. He started compressing, finding it easier to just count than remember Doc's silly song.
"Every 30 or so compressions try and give rescue breaths! Tilt their head back a little while pinching their nose to open their airway. Then you're gonna blow into their mouth a normal amount just enough so their chest rises; do that twice. If it doesn't rise make sure they don't have anything stuck in their throat. Grif is that gum I see in there?"
Caboose quickly brought his face to Wash's, blood splattered across his visor.
"Haha whoops sorry Washington!" He brought his hands back to unclasp his own helmet and set it to the side; turning back to brush away some of the bloody nose with his hand.
Caboose lingered slightly, he could feel the air around them now, he could also feel the lack of air coming from Wash's mouth. He cradled the back of Wash's neck in his hand, pinched his nose with the other and started his rescue breaths.
He fell into autopilot, repeating the steps in his mind over and over as he did them until a sharp breath came from Washington, as did a mouthful of cave pond water.
Caboose helped him sit up as Wash coughed up his missing breaths; his gaze fixated on the older man's movement.
"Caboose?" The blue's eyes bore into Wash, he seemed terrified. The feeling broke at the sound of his name however.
"Agent Washington you're okay! You should avoid drinking pond water, I don't think it's good for you." There was smeared blood on Caboose's face, Wash dipped his hand into the water and rubbed it against the stain.
"How'd you get blood on you 'Boose? Where's your helmet?" The other blue wore his helmet so often it was rare to see his face, his hair had gotten a bit longer and Wash could see wearing smile lines from his angle.
"Oh uhm! So when we got out of the water you weren't breathing so I tried to give you Cee Pee Arr but I forgot to take my helmet off! So now you have a bloody nose and you shared it with me when I gave you rescuing breaths!" He smiled, reaching beside him to grab his helm and snapped it back on, his second face returned.
Wash rubbed the back of his hand against his face, his helmet was off as well, and his own blood smeared against the glove.
"Holy shit you saved my life Caboose."
"I did?" His head tilted and he perked up again."I did! Oh my god does that mean my team kills go down? Because I saved you?"
Wash chuckled, clasping his breastplate back on and grabbing his helmet.
"Sure it does."
"Oh! You should probably cover that hole in case we have to go swimming again, Church always packed some for me..." Caboose dug around in his utility belt and procured a large patch used for underarmour sealing; he handed it to Wash and watched as the freelancer slapped it against his neck and rubbed it down.
"Geez thanks Caboose, you're really on it today." Wash said as brushed his hair back and locked his helm back in place.
Caboose wiggled from his seated position, paused, and grabbed Freckles before firing behind him.
Confetti dispersed from the rifle.
"Friendly Signature Detected."
"Caboose what the hell?! Did you really just try to shoot me?"
"Hi Tucker!"
80 notes · View notes
girlreblogger · 7 months
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also to add to my previous post, when i say blk yn go through crazy situations im exaggerating but i mean (“cause me personally!!!!!!!!!!!”) allowing the character to be treated in certain manner and be put in “awkward” positions. i also want to say that the “situations” seem unfulfilling like i wanted to say in the first place.
because of the unsavory situations she is put in she legit has to have characteristics that are straight up unnecessary if the wellbeing of her character was prevalent. and i have to say that because of blk yn stories that it applies to. (and no ian talking abt how ppl be complaining abt yn being “ghetto” 😒)
drama, comfort, or for fun, is cool and dandy but it’s the same type of thing and i’m not tryna come for the plug stories like don’t nbgaf like omg i’m so tired of hearing bout them freaking stories.
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to the ppl who still decide to ignore how damaging fr CERTAIN! blk yn fics y’all remind me of the ppl who support tyler perry movies simply because it’s for entertainment and “he’s telling a story” (that not everyone has)
yep. those things are true but an impact worse than good is being produced. like bffr.
and i feel conflicted by even saying that because some ppl obviously genuinely relate or find comfort in those stories but at what cost. like is comfort worth change and progression?
me rn:
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some ppl just really don’t gaf and don’t care to want better. please don’t let the ppl who don’t gaf sway you. for the ppl who do, reblog nice fics or write. blow them up so other blk girls can find them. we deserve it.
there are so many blk fics where yn is not going through those things and if there is “drama” is solved or there’s a healthy resolve. (there’s so many blk writers who need to be publishing books fuck tumblr or ao3 and tryna get reblogs. with all that talent girl MAKE SOME MONEYYYY! YALL STUFF BE GOOD.)
i’m dead serious. why haven’t you thought abt it.
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but yeah. it is what it is we have to put more work in to change as people in general. but i really just want my ppl to grow. ppl find comfort in fics for a reason. i really think a good balance of what everyone is looking for and needs should be found. i know ppl gonna feel like ppl telling them what to do but they prolly the ones who don’t want the change for wtv.. reason… ahem..
ppl feeling hit by what i said:
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there’s obviously a problem and as a ppl! why can’t we just fix it. like at least try.
side note:
there’s so many ways to get drama. also the smut after arguing piss me off this is off topic cause it applies to a lot of ppl who make fics but like damn. y’all ain’t gon talk it out. and it be the most weird arguments and stuff and you wanna squeeze lemons after that???
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idk that annoys me like everyyyy time? and i think smut after arguments can be well written but ….
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anyways the blk ff community to damn big for us to be sitting here starving acting like we don’t have food in the refrigerator to make something.
get it together yall. youn want what’s in the refrigerator go get your keys and buy something.
i’m tired of this shit that’s why so many blk writers stop writing or ppl stop reading because it’s too much going on all for some damn fake characters we wanna imagine ourselves with.
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and i know for some ppl it’s abt the followers and all that which i mean to each is own i mean
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sigh i was tryna be proper and cordial but i really want better for us but it’s so many ppl who go too far or do too little. and some are so sheep that they go with someone else’s opinion too. you know you tired of all the toxic fics say sumn. you know you tired of ppl constantly bringing up yn being ghetto for no reason (that shit piss me off so bad i can’t. they be so close but so farr) say sumn.
me after thinking someone finna bring up how unnecessary struggle love/toxic/extra smutty blk fics are but they end up just complaining abt yn using aave:
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anyways i’m ranting. i wanted to say what i felt.
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muah
79 notes · View notes
adaptacy · 11 months
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A Found Flame {Pt.2}
Pairing: Mentor!Gale Dekarios x Apprentice!GN!Reader
(Previous Chapter) – (Next Chapter) ➔ (AO3)
A/N: Gonna cross-post this to AO3 eventually once I have more of an idea of how the plots gonna go cause you all have convinced me to full-send it and make it a longform thing. just adding it to the list of wip.... a sincere apology to my tcm fics.... anyways! i love my little depressed magic-cancer nerd and im glad im not the only one. here's more of him :) [it wont all be angst, but i gotta set the scene and the stakes, yanno...?] ALSO 'a found flame' is just the working title, idk what the official one is gonna be but i'll let yall know when i figure that out
Word Count: 3.1k
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Stepping outside grants you an opportunity to taste the last flavors of the fading winter, only feeling the quick spikes of a chill every few minutes, and even then, it’s only thanks to the setting sun. You still wear a purple velvet shawl, as per the request – well, demand – of Gale. He insisted many moons ago that you shouldn’t ever risk getting sick when you can take measures to avoid such a fate, and you’d decided it was much simpler to go along with it than to argue your safety. That plan was cemented when he purchased you a finely tailored purple shawl, the edges of the hood and cloak lined with lynx fur, dyed a dark pink to complement the thick purple velvet that made up the majority of the shawl. A gift that nothing short of surprised you, even had you fooled into believing you’d been dreaming when he presented it to you. Why he was so particularly fearful of the cold, you weren’t sure, but you deeply appreciated the gift, and even if you did enjoy winter’s nip, the shawl was both gorgeous and comfortable, and you’d be insane to leave it behind.
Gale was also particularly sensitive to cold weather, from what you could tell, which likely had a role in his passionate bias against the chilliness of post-snow air. Frankly, you were fine with the occasional runny nose in exchange for a chance to wander down a snow-dusted forest trail, and you didn’t mind a shiver here and there while you caught free-falling flakes that Waterdeep was ever so rarely granted. 
The garden, however, was much like Gale – hardly a fan of the cold. Gale did not have a green thumb, but he still shared similarities with the plants you tended. Those plants that, currently, were dead and buried. While you’d managed to convince him to try his hand at herbalism and gardening, he had more of Bhaal’s touch with the sprouts than the ‘magic’ touch he so often joked about. It was amusing, and a little pitiful; the exasperated sigh and the troubled frown that followed your breaking of the news, that his poorly packed and overwatered plants had passed. He was dramatic, and managed to find the humor in the situation, though vowed to let you handle anything to do with seedlings and crops from that point onwards.
It was unfortunate, as you appreciated his entertaining company (even if it came mostly in the form of griping, displeased that he had to get so up close and personal with dirt and worms) around the garden beds, but it allowed for moments like these. Truth be told, you had no intention of gardening. You would have to wait another twelve dawns until any useful plants would be back in season, so planting anything this late in winter would be a waste of both time and resources. 
Instead, you aimed to explore a small forest trail that you’d just recently discovered, not far from the tower you stayed at. To say you lived there felt like too strong, too certain, of a term. It was the only place you slept, and nearly all of your time was spent there, but you knew it wasn’t home. It was Gale’s home, and you were a mere guest. A sixteen-month-and-counting guest, but a guest nonetheless. You worked, your apprenticeship laboursome and sometimes really quite demanding, and Gale repaid your loyalty and assistance by giving you a place to stay. You’d just never planned to stay so long. 
In all honesty, you expected it to be a very temporary arrangement. You suspected Gale felt the same way. But circumstances changed, and so did minds, and you didn’t see yourself leaving anytime soon. It helped that you got along quite well with your boss-slash-roommate, despite the differences in personality and age. You were comfortable with the way things were, and Gale had just recently begun to sprout ideas of passing his own spell-casting knowledge on to you, with today’s lesson being a prime example. When you weren’t helping out around his home, or running errands for him, or tending to the garden, you were most usually subjected to reading long passages from books that were once very far above your understanding. 
If Gale was a master of anything, it was surely knowledge. You’d found it odd, at first. Spending all of his days wasting away in his tower, just reading, rotting into a hermit, you’d assumed. But you’d soon gained an appreciation for his boundless mind, and felt almost honored that he’d decided you worthy of learning from him. Being a wizard’s apprentice had never been in the plans, not even as a fleeting hypothetical, and yet you found yourself in that exact scenario – and enjoying it nonetheless! 
Glancing down at the small woven basket hanging from your arm, you frowned, lost in thought. Gale taught you a lot, and he still had plenty left to teach, but by no means did that translate over to you really knowing the man you shared a house with. He taught from books and scrolls, and on a few spare good days from his own vast experience. Even with all of the lectures he gave, you found that any details about him that weren’t related to magic, or your lessons, were all quite lacking. What you did know about his personal life was almost purely from observation. 
Well, a few times when Tara had made a passing comment about some personal detail and surely was later scolded for it, but those were few and far between. If anyone were to blame for your curiosity, it was most certainly the man himself. He loved preaching the importance of curiosity, exploration (despite rarely leaving the confines of his study), and seeking knowledge, and you’d be a rather poor apprentice to disregard such lessons. Or, arguably worse, cherry pick when you applied those lessons to real world scenarios. 
Most recently, your nose for curiosity had picked up on the notably pungent scent of Gale’s behavior. It was unusual, slightly withdrawn, perhaps a little panicked if you truly squinted between the lines. Gale was predictable, for the most part – it was one of his traits that had earned him your trust in the first place. Though as of recent, he’d been rather strange. And not the typical Gale kind of strange – an unsettling, uncharacteristic strange. One that you knew better than to ask questions about, but one that certainly sprouted confusion. 
You neared the edge of the forest, giving the pale trees a smile as if to promise your peace. Pausing just before the tree line, you peered into the woods, interested as to what you might discover. You proceeded, following a very faint trail into the woods. You had a pretty solid confidence in your navigational skills – otherwise you most definitely would’ve gotten completely trapped in the maze of a city that was Waterdeep every time you ran any sort of errand – so you weren’t particularly concerned with getting lost. 
Allowing your thoughts to return to Gale, you reminded yourself that you weren’t really lying to him. You definitely weren’t going to the garden, but you still planned on harvesting plants. You’d known him for almost a year and a half, and you knew the gist of what he’d been through, what with his mentorship from Mystra herself – which was so cool, and he was way too casual about it – and his strange appetite thanks to the Netherese orb that had become one with him. All that aside, however, you didn’t know many details about his past. For as chatty and sarcastic as he was, you couldn’t shake the feeling he had a good number of secrets he withheld from you, and big ones at that. 
Of course, Gale was entitled to his privacy, and you didn’t want to intrude or push his boundaries, but it was impossible to ignore the signs of unease. His constantly drifted mind, his long breaks between lessons, his increasingly frequent requests. Or the way that he’d direct you to read a passage from some folktale or other, only to remain silent for several moments after you finish, gazing longingly past his balcony. He’d been consuming more artifacts than usual recently, and gained a sudden eagerness to push real world practice into your schedules. Not that you minded the inflow of new information, but it didn’t seem to come from a place of excitement. Instead, you figured anxiety; judging based off of the common rapid bouncing of his leg, the messy-and-messier spread of his books and trinkets – especially when compared to how well-kept the place always was whenever you’d started working under him – or his new tendency to forget what he had and hadn’t asked of you, or which lessons he’d already covered, or hell, where he had last placed his staff. 
Well, what better way to get someone to open up and relax than with a hand-picked bouquet and some herbal tea? 
Even if he didn’t spill his guts to you, he certainly needed a pick-me-up. Sure, you already did a lot for him, but he did a lot for you, too. Maybe even more than he realized. He deserved a treat. 
–   –   –
“Though it may be bold of me to say, I estimate they’ll be a fine caster someday.”
“Bold indeed, Mr. Dekarios. Awfully bold. They quite nearly began trembling at the idea of a mere fire bolt!” The small beast chirped back, seated firmly atop his desk, pawing at a small fuzzy ball that swung from a thin string, easily entertained by the simple contraption. 
“Even I stumbled; all beginners do. Time is all they need. ‘Time heals all wounds’, is that not how the scriptures read?” He asked, sticking his tongue out and running the tip of a long harpy feather over it. 
As he dipped that same tip in a vial half-filled with a thick, clear liquid, Tara quickly outstretched a wing, the end of it not-so-accidentally hitting her companion in the face. The startle nearly caused him to knock over the bottle of magic ink, his torso leaning forward as he just barely managed to steady it with both hands, and he glared at his familiar out of the corner of his eye. She merely stretched out her other wing, feigning obliviousness before eventually looking back at him. “You are still the same fool who summoned me all those years ago. You are a prodigy, Mr. Dekarios! You were half their age then; to compare your ‘stumbles’ to the incompetence of a commoner such as them is exhaustively inconceivable.” 
“Tara, I implore you to exercise patience. They are a fine apprentice, and they certainly have the potential for brilliance. Am I not a competent mentor?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, intending the question to be at least somewhat thought-provoking, but the only reaction he received was Tara turning her head away and murmuring something too quiet for Gale to hear. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, he knew her well enough to predict it was something snarky, and he didn’t bother investigating. He dipped the large quill again, unable to recall if he’d already wet the tool, and the liquid dripped off of the tip, shimmering in the glint of the fading sun as it rejoined the rest contained in the bottle. “Why is it that you repudiate all of their attempts to bond with you? Surely you don’t think them ill-mannered?”
“‘Ill-mannered’, he says,” she mocks, her tail flicking in irritation. “It is not their civilities that I have quarrels with. It is the expectations I deplore.”
“Expectations?” Gale repeats, his palm flattening against his desk, pressing out the sides of a contorted scroll, the tip of the feather hovering over the yellowed paper. 
After solving her own deliberation, the tressym turns around, her wings folding against her sides, her tail curling around her paws. “Have you no fear that your confidence is misplaced? Mr. Dekarios, do you not worry that they may fall short in your plans for them? That they are not up to the task you have decided to burden them with?”
Gale’s irritated gaze softens, his hand relaxing, coming to join his other hand in resting on the desk. The clear liquid on the quill drips onto the parchment, becoming a black dot in an instant, the weave-infused iridescent ink soaking seamlessly into the paper. “I fear nobody could ever truly be capable. But my options are limited, and my few select choices are each disheartening in their own cruel ways.”
“Evidently, you have already made up your mind. Why is it that you allow them to remain oblivious? You know better than anyone how dire the circumstances are.” Tara’s paws slide forward, her belly laying flat on the desk, and she plants her head atop of her mitts. 
Gale moves his hand, letting the paper curl up without the weight, to gently scratch Tara’s head, her pitying purr drawing a sigh from his own chest. “I am but a ticking time bomb. Hardly much of a man these days,” he chuckles dryly, looking around the dust-riddled mess that he still called a study. It would be nothing short of anarchy if it weren’t for his apprentice, and he’s seen it in far worse shape, but it doesn’t quite shake the quiet guilt that rocks in his stomach at just how far he’s fallen. Gale is usually quick to excuse his carelessness as an incurable consequence of his age, but he’s well-aware that his energy is not merely being lost alongside his youth. 
The artifacts he consumes have only ever satiated a part of the orb’s appetite. Never quite satisfied – a commonly reoccurring trait of those Gale finds himself engaging with – the sortilege feeds off of him as well. The incantations he recites and the thaumaturgy he practices only grows stronger – more powerful than Gale could have ever predicted or wished for – while his body withers away as though his very anatomy is actively being shredded, and relentlessly so, to make room for spells that he now dreads casting. 
It doesn’t help that his learned reliance was only ripped away from him when he truly needed assistance. When the man who once considered himself the smartest in all of Faerun was clueless about his own condition, the only person who could possibly have the answers disappeared. 
Now, Gale was left to clean up the pieces. He understands this is his own doing – that he was, and still is, a fool. Once blinded by greed, a greed that led him to being blinded by love, a love that led him to being blinded by desperation, a desperation that led to him being trapped by fear. A fear that now has settled, more or less. Present as ever, but no longer unfamiliar, no longer a new addition to Gale’s emotions.
His hand returns to the paper, and Tara steadies her sights on the bottom of the quill, watching as it twirls, imprinting promises and bittersweet apologies onto the scroll. Words he couldn’t possibly utter aloud, but words that couldn’t be more genuine. The recipient deserves more than a written explanation and cursive laments, and he’s aware of the injustice he’s manufacturing, but he is a terribly faded man who is cursed by a deficiency in time and yet finds himself with so much left to do. He decides it is better a raven on her doorstep than his ghost, lacking any explanation. 
Each day, he wakes to find his chest a little warmer, his hands a little shakier, his hair a little thinner. And each day feels like his last. He is entirely helpless to the foe that resides inside of him, of all places. Incapable of defending against something that has already breached his castle walls, and even more useless as it has latched under his skin, reducing him to nothing more than a habitat. He hosts an aberration that has grown far, far too large for its enclosure, and who threatens to rupture its cage with every breath that he dares to draw. 
He’s held out for long enough. He’s lived longer than he ever imagined possible, but he knows his limits. The truth stings in places untouched by the Netherese’s reaches; his forced composure starts an ache in his face, but he knows better. With a sharp inhale, Gale rolls up the paper, setting down the large brown feather as he retrieves a thin, fraying string, tightly wrapping the letter up. He even finishes it off with a neat bow, a force of habit, and he sets it aside, leaning back in his chair. 
The moon is just barely visible now, approaching the stars and creeping over the mild coverage of the stone railings on his balcony, and the wizard watches the white giant rise. Some unburied, deep sense of longing reflects in his eyes, where the moon also resides, though she is much smaller and much dimmer. There’s movement on the desk, but Gale’s eyes aren’t yet drawn away from the beauty of the night. Then there’s a weight in his lap, and a purring against his stomach, and he lowers his hand to rest on Tara’s back, gently stroking, enjoying the silent tranquility. 
‘Mystra’s moon’ he used to call it. He’d tell her he could see her in the shadowed curves, but he isn’t sure if he ever really did. Maybe in a dream, long lost to him now. The moon that watched over him tonight was certainly not Mystra’s. It was bright, encasing the room in a beautiful blue, and the gaze it returned was a soft one. Free of judgment, free of stress, free of difficulty. 
“I reckon I’ll be up there soon,” he exhales, feeling his familiar curl up in his lap. “Ruling my own section of sky. Perhaps I’ll even have purpose. I can’t help but wonder what it’s like.”
“Peaceful, I suspect. An eternity of peace, at that. What a prospect.”
“You’ll join me some day?” 
The feline purrs out a quiet chuckle, her tail curling around her body so the tip rests on her nose, bundled perfectly atop his thighs. “Of course. I can only go so long without a self-warming bed.”
Gale smiles, his hand falling still on her back, though his thumb continues to run up and down her fur. “Give them a chance, will you? They can’t do it without guidance.”
“I’ll take care of them,” Tara reassures, her tone much softer now than when she spoke of his apprentice earlier. “Do wait for me up there. I’ll be by your side before long, Mr. Dekarios.” 
“I set out tomorrow night. I’ll inform them of what they need to know.”
91 notes · View notes
mijikai12 · 8 months
Text
BIENVENIDOS!!!!
hola chicos!! this is my main blog and this pinned post is also a more updated and simpler than the og!!
warning: LONG POST ⚠️⚠️⚠️
BLOGS ->
Main: @mijikai12
Vent: @kayventa
Reblogging: @mijikai12-reblogs
Ask(1): @just-ask-finn
Ask(2): @the-prismo-ask-blog
Com!/Colab/Art: @yoki-san
MusicBased: @cheryap
where you can also find me ->
spotify
wattpad
youtube
instagram
twitter
details ->
i am a minor (13) and my birthday is March 2nd! 🎂
i am a aromantic lesbian
i have adhd and some autism
im an extrovert mainly around people i know. but i am literally forcing myself to interact with people (i swear it actually works omfg)
i go by Kayla
i love talking to people here.
i joined i think in september or october.
i play flute, piano, and a bit of recorder
my favorite colors are 💚🖤🤍❤️
i like weirdcore
im a big adventure time fan
im open for asks
im in seventh grade
i like to draw, animate, make music, and write!
she/them/green
im a Pieces
i'm hispanic
i speak english + spanish
MAIN OC'S!!!!!!:
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Mijikai Tsocka(mascot): she is a bunny hybrid bc of course. i gues she was tested on or something, i havent quite figured her lore yet. she's a she/them 16 lesbian female.
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Sarahnah Dandila(princess): She's fucking annoying anyways; she is a she/her 23 straight female. She's princess of whatever idk i dont have a name for the kingdom yet. (most parent standard hehe)
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Mattie Sercel: He's a he/it 21 bisexual trans (least parent standard haha) he's in college and majors in 3D art and animation.
okay! i really hope you enjoy my blog!! i cant wait to meet yall and to get into situations id rather die than be in!! 😊
edits below:
edit1: guys i made a Neobook account!! i dont know what shit to do there so it might be empty for a while.
edit2: im trying to make an ao3 account. i should be on by 1/30
edit3: i know ive already said this but my reblogs are slowly being deleted. so my art posts will go to Yoki while normal text/memes/etc posts will go here (≧∇≦)
edit4: i lied in that last edit. anyways, i am gonna make an insta soon (maybe tonight) and i might make a Pinterest account! 😆
edit5: I MADE AN INSTAAAA
edit6: i have a twitter if you didnt notice
edit7: AO3 DOESNT LIKE MEEE
edit8: i have a gf omggg i'll be posting a lot about it at @kayventa
edit9: yeah ao3 does NOT like me wow. anyways, so springbreaks coming up soon. i'll post about this on thursday or friday ✌🏽
edit10: ive had an c.ai account for months ive posted about it idk if yallve seen it yet 😒
edit11: i found out a few days ago that when ao3 said i'd be on by 1/30, they didnt mean 1/30/24, they meant 1/30/25. wtf
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zeenmrala · 11 months
Text
after three months the bitch is back!!!!
weird stream of consciousness update below the cut
during my hiatus i completely dropped out of my star wars fixation which was insanely weird because ive been deep in it for over two years. it threw me tf off because i became fixated on an old white man from a horror movie franchise instead????? i loved him when i was like 14 but didn't realise why i was so into him like i remember being young and attracted to this stupid man and being mad at myself for not being able to stop thinking about him and being so confused about it. but then i recently rewatched the movies and it hit me that bitch iM THIRSTING FOR HIM and now im not only writing fic for him but SMUT for an OLD WHITE MAN. HUMAN MAN!!! HUMAN!!!! who would ever think we'd see the day when lil moonie was writing for a HUMAN instead of an alien???????? not ME!!!! i know some of y'all saw my ao3 updates and were like tf is happening??? bitch idk either. im just horny ig.
anyway.
im back. again. now the heat from the white man obsession is cooling off slightly im back dabbling in the sw universe again, mainly space gays, my oc mimi being a lil lesbian whore. maul is on my mind again, always. and ofc wolfwren my pretty little lesbian emo girls UGH. i read the britney memoir and the inspo and motivation for mimi has returned so maybe ill play more with her and my OCs and the mimiverse in general ahhhhh
otherwise, im still broke!!! still mentally ill!!!!! nothing much else has changed except im kicking ass with recovery and will be discharged from services soon (yay me!)
im gonna be way less serious with fandom and not get as obsessive about it moving forward so expect a stupid amount of shit posting and any drama will be immediately curb stomped (blocked). and i will be less weird about everything (hopefully) but just as unhinged (definitely)
lol happy halloween happy november happy fall remember to prepare yourself for S.A.D season honey, it's here and the depression is ready to strike
love u
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josephtrohman · 5 months
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sorry if you’ve been asked this before, would you be willing to spare some joetrick fic recs? i’m getting super back into them and the bandom so wanted to jump back in with some recs maybe!! (do you still prefer top joe? do you have any toppy patrick? if thats not your bag i don’t mind i’ll honesty take anything you think is well written atp 😁 ty!!!)
i’m sorry it’s taken me a couple days to answer this anon!!! finals got me both tweaking and sleep deprived at the same time somehow. also tho let it be known there is nothing to be sorry for at allllll omg, and there Never is, imagine my inbox as a safe warm place where i’m always here for ANYTHING. anyways, i have answered some joetrick fic recs earlier, here is the link to that post which has my crème de la crème joetrick fics, but i always have more in my back pocket!!! start with that other post’s list tho first for sure!!!! just bc they are THEE BEST. ok gonna put the rest under a break here (including my answers to ur question LOLL) :3
i truthfully have mellowed out when it comes to top/bottom preferences lol (i wonder if ur an og follower and saw my ask from like 2016 that i may have answered more intensely about preferring top joe and oh god the 'bottom patrick network' i was in way back when networks were a thing HDKDJDKDJSJ). i actually really enjoy top patrick/bottom joe in this day and age but there is like. none still. so i dont have much to offer u 💔 but im working on something and so is a fobtwt friend of mine so keep ur eyes peeled!!!
i combed my archive and found u my (very) slim pickings for toppy patrick. which imo is a disgrace and i Have contributed to this pattern of mostly bottom patrick w my fics BUT i hope to change this fact as i have a wip that’s just pwp top patrick/bottom joe maybe coming in the next several months LOLLLL (also my fobtwt friend as i mentioned). but i’ll start with the closest things i can find. i’m gonna break it down with the kind of adjacent to ur request fics First and then give a few more recs after :)
an exploration of the bounds of venus by disloyalorder. this might be the only top patrick pure joetrick smut on ao3 (that i found well-written enough to save at least <3). it’s got a heavy dose of mommy kink/mommy dom stuff so i guess if that’s not ur thing then u really will have to stay tuned for my fic ;) haha
wasted summer by terriblewritings. shoutout to the author for dropping it in my inbox!!! it has the mommy kink too and a liiiiiiittle talk of weight just in an appreciative way idk but a warning; it’s toppy patrick in the sense of dom patrick bc there’s no penetration, but it’s rly good!!! author says there might be more coming too ;3
token by gigantic. this one i found on total accident, i had been digging around on this user’s livejournal because they have two PHENOMENAL wentzman fics up (if u want those recs too lmk) but basically this one is joe on a gay sex mission lol, it is explicit but ofc when u get to the goods (aka the JOETRICK SCENE) it's all fade-to-black instead 💔 but still SOOOOO good so unbelievably well written!!!
i had it listed it in the other rec ask, but bdsm by heyginger has a brief mention of joe riding patrick (not explicit smut tho lol) AND of patrick tying joe up so it feels on the toppy patrick side for sure :)
also for good measure, though patrick is not toppy to JOE in these ones, there are two jeterick fics that feature patrick topping pete while joe does stuff to them etc just maybe to scratch a similar itch? lay your head down -- and feel the beat and two's company, three's just right both by likeasugarcube.
begging all ao3 writers to PLEASEEE write more top patrick/bottom joe joetrick fics i want to read joe get fucked like he deserves <3 ok anyways
EDITING THIS ASK FROM THREE MONTHS IN THE FUTURE TO SAY i have a top patrick joetrick fic up NAOW anon if you happen to return to this ask again anon. addicted to the way i feel when i think of you by josephtrohman aka yours truly ;3 (AND EDITING AGAIN TO SAY I HAVE A TOP PATRICK PUPPY PLAY JOETRICK FIC)
and now here r some general recs that aren’t toppy patrick related :)
my tongue is my choir by coricomille. patrick is mute (mixon is their vocalist) and it’s a wonderfully written, very sweet fic!!!
capture the phrases by rosiedoesfic. patrick has a secret admirer in the form of anonymous post it notes. so good<3
expensive mistakes by rosiedoesfic. cute little fic about the insta posts in mania era that had very joetricky captions :')
the cure to growing older by rosiedoesfic. a au fic where joe and patrick have been friends since they were little kids, a very cute growing up together type story :)
message in a bottle by bunnytrohman. a sweet lil getting together fic sent during 2ourdust. saur beautiful and the world needs more fics set in the stardust era imo!!!
take a breath (i know what's behind that door) by thesecondshow. joe checks in on/takes care of patrick right after the we liked you better fat post. really really beautifully written <3 (hai mitch if u see this)
your secret's out by the_seventh_avenger. cute lil fic, honestly hard to summarize with a lil blurb without giving everything away but love it so much!!
alpha dog by bunnytrohman. puppy play joetrick. i needn’t say more READ THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
leaving it there bc looking at my bookmark list there aren't like a TON more that i even really could rec so i'll save those for if someone else asks in another 10 months <3 lol love u anon my inbox (and dms!!! if u wanna reveal urself but no pressure) is always open to discuss these fics or ANYTHING too 💖
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agwic · 1 year
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zampanio is a very good game, you should play it(or not idk it's probably not for everyone)
ok so i've fallen into an arg. and keeping notes on it. the creator of the arg, in the most roundabout and inefficient way possible, told me to post my notes somewhere public, like ao3 or tumblr. so here i am. to do that, and also to recommend that arg to you, because posting a notes doc without context would be weird.
so, uh, yeah. zampaniosim is an arg made by @jadedresearcher, who also made sburbsim and dollsim(a homestuck doll creator) and a bunch of other stuff, most of which was homestuck-related. zampaniosim also has homestuck references, but it's mostly due to references to jr's prior works, and zampaniosim is actually entirely original based on a weird video game creepypasta which has seemingly disappeared off the face of the internet. but yeah it has a lot of references. to a lot of things, not just homestuck.
anyways it's a really cool arg and it's still ongoing! and it feels like it has a pretty low barrier to entry, especially due to the fact that, since it's been ongoing for 3 years, there are plenty of(or maybe only the 2-3 i have found) guides(under a very loose definition of guide) and a wiki that is probably more helpful than not. i've decided to make limited use of the guides and wiki, which has lead to a very fun experience, especially knowing i can fall back on them(or ask for hints from other fans) whenever i want. still, this limited approach has meant that i've barely scratched the surface.
if you want to get into zampaniosim, then i recommend starting here, but here(should include link to the prior link, but doesn't include it today unless there's an exception for first visit) or here(includes link to the prior link, as well as a few other things i haven't looked into nearly as much) can also be places to start. or you can just look at the farragofiction website as a whole, or jr's tumblr blog, or just google zampanio. im not your boss.
orrrrrr you could watch me as i explore zampaniosim!!! by looking at my notes!!! which are primarily designed for me to not forget things so they may make very little sense if you don't do any of the things mentioned in the last paragraph!!! but things making very little sense is kinda the point of zampanio so it's as good of an entry point as any, i guess. though i will note that it contains a ton of spoilers, for obvious reasons
since my notes doc being public is ostensibly the point of this post, im gonna post the link again, this time not inline!
zampanio!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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syrips · 1 year
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hello im gonna pin this post
hello my name is Syrips, im a super duper simp and simp/self-insert enabler for others who love strahd or any cos/ravenloft/fictional characters
im 28, but i sometimes say im thirty as a vague response because its easier and faster to say (or safer to say to strangers)
i think i am autistic but i am currently only self-diagnosed; i plan to tell my doctors once i compile a binder of reasons why i think im autistic based on noted events in my childhood, behavior, and my reflected perspective on things in pages of charts and text which is a totally neurotypical thing to do
im genderfluid and i am fine with any and all pronouns (different people may use different/changing/fluid pronouns on me, i am completely fine with this)
im polyamorous and pansexual/panromantic, i gush over games that have polyamory/pan options!!
i have huge CoS/Ravenloft spoilers so please, PLEASe do not enter unless you are fine with being spoiled with all kinds of content. i also wont explain what is or isnt 'canon' because, well, some things may be canon for one person, while potential/not-canon for another, so i really cannot confirm or deny it myself.. ask your DM for confirmation! (and for my players who are here, hehe, goodluck figuring it out!)
i do music, art, crafting, and streaming sometimes, here is my linktree: https://linktr.ee/syrips
please 'ask'/message/send me any and all of your curse of strahd and/or ravenloft works of art! this can include these and more!:
playlists
moodboards
art/portfolio/link to your art or artblog
pages of your OC/PC/dnd lore (both player and DM welcome)
campaign/session notes and storytime
canon and potential-/home-/head-canon dumps
narrations/imagines/ao3/google docs/fanfic/fic writings
cool crafts!!
i crave it more than strahd craves blood, please and thank you!
you can also send me stuff and let me know if you want me to gush/simp over it, provide advice, or simply acknowledge it (publicly or privately)! let me know in advance cuz i dont want to make you uncomfortable with what you share
i have no limits on triggering fictional content, just make sure to tw it properly if it is sensitive content for others
my Ask thingy is always open, i may ramble alot if i get passionate enough though so be warned! hehe
ok goodbye ill edit or change this whenever idk
Edit Entry 1 - 11th Moon, 2023
for context, keita/raze (he/him) is my irl partner. he's been a simp for alucard (castlevania) longer than i've begun simping for strahd. i only discovered this years into the relationship when we watched castlevania (where i expected to be a bigger simp for castlevania), and instead HE made high pitch simping noises as alucard appeared on the screen and i was like -sus eyes- wait a GOSH DARN MINUTE-. also, keita has a thing for necks. i shrugged it off when he first told me, but years later i started simping for strahd and now i look back at that moment like 'hm. odd.-'. anyways, i mostly started dating him because he sounds like a kermit the frog southern guy who goes 'howdy howdy' and he says 'i should be golden' unironically and i think thats pretty funny
i tag stuff as #making a keita tag so when keita presses this he can see all the stuff that he likes so that i can organize stuff and incase he ever decides to poke around my blog and use this tag search within my blog
Edit Entry 2 and 3 - 12th Moon, 2023
syrips OC/PC list (loosely alphabetical)
Other People's Adored OC/PC list (loosely alphabetical)
Edit Entry 4 - 7th Moon, 2024
hi huge warning that im fucking WEIRD. like i know people may enjoy the idea of me for entertainment/indulgence purposes but please please. if you ask/tell me to do something, i will 90%-chance take it seriously and respond bluntly/directly. please take my warnings seriously and please please interact with me responsibly!!
and i already know some would be like, 'oh syrips people always say that. they wanna act unique/special by calling themselves weird'. like. thats fair if people dont believe that but please dont be surprised when freakos start feeling more comfortable/vulnerable around you and you become shocked. like. stop trying to shame/blame freakos for what they've warned since the beginning. please, it's hurtful and disrespectful.
my asks are always open, be as blunt/direct as you want. most of my cws will be with "cw: " before it. let me know if you want me to cw tag something!
i use the #be cringe be free tag for weirdos/freakos/happy/indulgent stuff. this can include stuff that isnt 'cringe', and/or cringe we embrace. it's okay to be cringe. it's okay to say cringe culture is dead. it's okay to not see things as cringe. it's okay to embrace the cringe. it's okay to indulge, to be your favorite version of you. it's okay to indulge, even if it's unfamiliar/scary. i use the tag for moments of doing what makes you happy, regardless if youre unfamiliar with that indulgent feeling. be cringe be free!!
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