#losing my mind. why do so few people care about this. i hate ai i hate it i hate it i fucking hate it so much die if you use ai die die die

[epaily]

say what you will about 2017 but atleast when i was in high school tiktok and generative cheating ai werent a thing yet

[theprettynosferatu]

State of the Blog, August 2024

Friends, kinksters, secret crushes:

Thank you for coming. Well, the blog is starting to get moving again after my 4 month absence, and I hope to keep up production! I already wrote a new story and I'm working on a second!

Patr¿on:

Which means the Patr¿on people are getting the library fed a bit! I mean, it's already quite massive, but I'm so glad to be creating once more.

And for the people that stuck by me during my hiatus: THANK YOU. You truly don't know what it means to me. You saved my bacon more than once.

To be honest, I'm not promoting the patr¿on again yet here aside from tags on images. I don't feel comfortable doing so just yet. I'm still finding my balance again, juggling real life work and kink work. This is why I haven't opened commissions either, but I'm hoping to soon.

Also, let me offer an explanation and a little bit of a secret. My content was a bit... spicy there- so if you sign up, wait for me to dm you (it usually takes me less than 24 hours) on how to access the library.

As for the secret... I have never, ever revoked access after a patr¿n stopped subscribing. I'm not goddamn Netflix. As far as I'm concerned, any support for me is a donation. Those than can do it more or for longer are greatly appreciated and kinda make up for those that fall on hard times: but I hope you do it because you care about my work and kink, not because you fear losing access to the library, because you won't.

I'm building kink socialism over here!

AI Sucks Ass and Not in A Fun Way and I'm a Hypocrite.

Let's address this elephant in the room. You have surely noticed I'm using AI for captions. I hate it. I hate that I haven't found a better way yet.

The reason is this: as I've explained before, long ago in the before-times, I just used pics of people that were available online. Mainly sex workers. I didn't think much of it, as I saw captioning as inherently transformative. Well, that bit of a legal leaf ignored something rather big: what the sex workers wanted. And it took sex workers on my own discord having a serious chat to make me change my stubborn mind. There is a consent issue: what if I use a pic of someone and transform it into a sort of maledom, misogyny kink pic? They never consented to being the face of that kink! Maybe they hate it!

I have worked together with swers to make captions they'd feel fine with and promote their work as well as mine. The problem there is the ravenous appetite of the algorithm, which demands more and more content. Sex workers are people, and chatting with me, deciding to trust me, working together is something I truly cherish. It's also a very slow process. Sex work is hard and takes up a lot of time!

And so we land on the current day. I try to make the blog more text-based these days but captions are a part of the content and have been since the beginning. Does it suck? Yes. absolutely. I mean, some of the pics turn out pretty cool, but it's just... icky to use it. It has been trained on scrubbed data from all over, without compensation. It is a bad thing.

But it might be the less-bad option. God, I hate "lesser of two evils" shit and the point may come when I don't feel comfortable doing captions at all, aside from a few ones starring followers who want to be captioned.

We'll see how I feel after a while.

For now, I'm just happy to be back here, with all of you. I hope I can provide some kinky entertainment.

And again, thank you all for sticking around. You're the reason I'm still here, every one of you. Stay safe, stay proud.

[leviiattacks]

Boxer Levi & Coach Reader

author note :: i lost the ask for this, but this is not good at all. quite literally the worst thing i have ever written /srs anyways,,,,, anon said they wanted me to post it no matter what so i hope you do enjoy whatever this is,,, the pacing is non-existent and it has not been edited 👍🏼

requests are always open :-) i promise i am usually better than this,, anyway i may just use this as a rough outline for a fic 🤔

word count :: 5.4k....... yeah......

you and levi become acquainted with each other in university. it’s all very cliche if you do say so yourself. he steps in playing the role of good samaritan heroically saving your wallet and wordlessly he hands it to you even after running for the thief. the man doesn’t do as much as pant in exhaustion.

his stamina is…never mind that, his reflexes are out of this world

he expects a thank you because anyone else would expect at least a token of gratitude shown via words but the sentence you want to ask only ends up trapping itself in your throat

it comes to the point where he nods understanding maybe you have a sore throat or just don’t want to thank him at all

eyes flicking to his hands you immediately lunge forward taking your chance.

almost immediately you feel regret for holding onto the wrist of a complete and utter stranger without permission

“your stamina it’s great!” the man turns to you, he isn’t smiling but he’s definitely intrigued by the sudden change in behavior

and that’s where it all begins

levi’s horrible at getting to know strangers, even worse at forming bonds and connections. maybe that’s why he doesn’t warm up to the idea of having to deal with new people and new settings all at once

“i hope you’ve met your coach this is aman-” introductions are cut short by levi stubbornly interjecting in the middle of your sentence 

“i have, but is she you?”

pursing your lips an awkward chuckle leaves your mouth, you look around uncomfortably wondering what he means.

“well, no?”

“then i won’t box.”

?????

you don’t even know what to say??? here you were thinking maybe he would be a little more cooperative than this.

his index finger points right at you and he takes a step forwards. his shoes come into contact with yours and you find yourself holding your breath apprehensively.

“i won’t box unless it’s you in charge.”

that is when you and levi formally meet for the first time. you are but an inexperienced coach and he, an inexperienced boxer.

“i’m getting drinks you want anything?”

“oh no don’t worry i’m good!!” you smile at levi and he nods his head venturing off to buy himself a bottle of sparkling water

levi has had you coaching him for a few years now

really he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more than respect for you. respect for the way you stay back late with him to train, respect for the schedules you make him and he’s most definitely respectful of your boxing knowledge

sure out of the two of you he’s more physically capable but it doesn’t change the fact that he becomes frustrated when he’s told he has to spend a day without you.

it’s not like you think that levi cares or anything, nothing sappy like that.

he just probably hates, no, despises having to listen to anyone else’s instructions. he finds that they somehow sound demeaning or less sincere.

every instruction you give him has a reason behind it. you don’t beat around the bush and he’s stated before that he enjoys that he knows he’s developing his skill set and progressing when he’s with you.

the olympus ring - one of the largest boxing competitions known to man is approaching soon and if levi manages to place in the top two his career is set to sky rocket in no time at all

that thought makes you feel unusually nervous

worry gnaws at your mind and you wonder about whether or not he’ll replace you after the competition concludes. after all who wants a coach with little fighting experience? all you really know is from your family. your brother and father had been professional boxers years prior.

you have no doubt at all that levi will place number one that’s for sure but you really hope he doesn’t find a replacement for you.

you’ve never had much faith in your coaching and to be left behind in the dust hurts you a tiny bit but you never bring it up because you know what? levi progressing in his career will make him happy :-)

levi’s happiness over yours and it’s not good to be selfish you suppose >:(

“y/n.” he’s waving a hand in front of your face, you’re uncharacteristically quiet today and he’s caught on

“you awake?” he asks again.

upon receiving no response levi’s now waving his hand with more tenacity

“wake. up.” he flicks at your forehead and you stir a little finally coming to your senses once you see him leaning up above you.

he looks taller than normal from this angle and your cheeks blaze, he has a habit of walking around shirtless whilst training and doesn’t realise the effect it has on you

“i- yeah good totally good. just thinking.”

“thinking about?” levi kneels to the floor looking you in the eyes and your mind falters wondering when it was he began to sit so close to you. it feels like it was just yesterday when the two of you used to eat lunch separately out of embarrassment.

the silence stretches for a second too long and his eyes narrow suspiciously leaving you to think on your feet

“i well, you have a press conference soon and i have to think of transportation and-”

“coach. i can deal with that.”

you’re a little stunned when he says that because he’s never tried to take away from your responsibilities in the past. is this a hint that he no longer wants you around?

“but it’s my job?” you reply back feeling threatened

“but you’re always doing it. i can figure it out this once.”

without even hearing the rest of what you have to say he stalks back towards his punching bag leaving your chest empty

he’s definitely thinking of replacing you is what you think

really this should not be getting you worked up.

you’ve known levi for years, you should have faith in the fact he trusts you but you find yourself indulging in self doubt more often than you intend to

guilt fills you as you scroll through the multiple job listings in front of you but you have a justification. this is your lifeline, you can’t afford to lose your source of income and it’s best to be prepared

however there’s no real amount of preparation that can get you used to the prospect of not seeing levi every day

he’s sort of just made a space for himself in your daily routine

chewing at your bottom lip you can’t get through one job listing without thinking about him and you shut your laptop down thinking tomorrow will be a better day and you’ll check back in then

why does levi even matter?? he’ll officially be an ass when he dumps you of your position?? who cares about him???

but that doesn’t stop you from caring and now you’re hunched over your closed laptop trying to understand what it is that’s making you feel this way

maybe it’s the whole attachment you have with him??

he is the very first person you’ve ever coached that’s true

he’s made you proud and allowed for your name to get out there in the boxing world

maybe that’s what’s holding you back from looking into other jobs

but that reason doesn’t make much sense

you should still be frustrated with him.

AND

you most definitely should not care about how he’s doing OR worry about who’ll patch him up when he ends up stupidly injuring himself during practice (he does that a lot)

“why do i care so much for him?” you type into google thinking there’s no person on this earth that can help you with this predicament now

honestly at this point asking AI is probably going to have to be your only reliable option

tapping on one of the first links you hope to find your answer

“what happened? yeah, you had sex?” pops onto your screen and you tap off as quick as possible.

no. you did not have sex. oh god, you haven’t even touched levi much. the most you’ve done is lace your fingers with his and offer him a hug

are you meant to have… had sex???

is it wrong for you to feel that way withou-

okay enough. this has got nothing to do with sex and your feelings are still valid. maybe you are right and you’re attached to him that’s it!!! right?

scrolling further down you nearly give up until you reach another link titled “the science of caring for those who don’t care for you.”

rolling your eyes you still hesitantly tap praying you find some sort of answer

and an answer is what you find that’s for sure

staring you right in the face in bold letters

1. you feel responsible for that person

not really, he’s very independent.

2. the person is a family member

absolutely not

3. you could be romantically attracted to the person in question

…….

romantically interested?? no. that’s wrong. not true. incorrect. not right. just not real. you are not romantically attracted to levi

,,,or are you?

that does explain why he makes you feel jittery, it explains why you shivered the one time he engulfed you in a hug at his first championship

it also explains why you feel burning jealousy when a celebrity shoves their number into your hands asking you to pass it onto levi. they don’t even look at you like you’re a human being. you’re just a messenger pigeon

they’re worlds away from you. you forever stuck in your tracksuit and them - those beautiful models in skintight dresses and heels to match are stuck in a world where everything they want is handed to them. that includes men

you know it’s not their fault and you’d kill to be like them too but you guess the whole sweaty tracksuits and boxing daily has just become your niche

nonetheless levi is a man. a popular man.

and he sure as hell has no romantic interest in his clumsy, uncoordinated coach

sighing you huddle yourself into a ball choosing not to think about it anymore

but you know you’ve already come to your conclusion

you like levi ackerman more than a coach should

and it’s taken you years to take notice of it

when you became a coach you never really thought people would talk about you much

you were clearly very wrong about that. you and levi are both hot topics on discussion forums and boxing panels. luckily for you levi finds no entertainment in such forms of boxing and so never glances at them

he’s completely unaware of all the online comments. to be honest you’re happy he’s oblivious to it all. he doesn’t deserve to deal with spiteful, mean spirited jabs

you’re less like levi and find yourself aimlessly scrolling through news articles and boxing q&a pages. it’s interesting to see what people have to say on social media

but these days all the searches for your name are filled with “replaced soon?” and “not good enough to coach ackerman?”

the headlines are cruel jokes but again you’re willing to handle taking the brunt of the press’ force instead of levi. yes, even if it hurts you.

“what you reading?” levi peers over your shoulder and you nearly throw your phone away to the other side of the room but instead you choose to grip at it tightly and shove it into your chest

you grin hiding the screen away. “something private.”

levi doesn’t look like he believes you, he wants to ask if you’re okay and if you need anything because frankly you do look slightly distraught but he decides against interrogating you

“oh okay. i’ll be back. you want anything from starbucks?” he asks.

at that moment you wish he asked you if you wanted to talk about what had been bothering you

but you know even if he did ask you’d deny his help

the olympus ring’s official press conference is one in which many rivalries will be established

levi has always had an issue with zeke jaeger one of the top contenders in his division.

it’s a long story......

one which includes the purposeful injury of a mutual friend in order to sabotage his career

you remember it all, the way you had to physically hold levi back from pouncing at the man. it had been one of the most difficult things you had to do

erwin was your friend too and you wanted him to receive justice. part of you wanted to let go and allow for levi to attack zeke with his all but you chose to be levi’s coach before you were erwin’s friends

if he wasn’t going to make good decisions for himself you would do it for him

if you had let him go through with that rash choice he could have risked suspension and suspension could completely halt some careers. suspension almost always led to shorter longevity and motivation

and so that’s why you always shift to levi’s side when he walks past zeke. there’s no way you’re taking a chance. knowing levi he could lose his cool and completely pummel him with an upper cut

so that’s what you’re doing right now. trying to edge levi to the other side of the hall but he does no such thing.

“coach, do you have to be so cautious with zeke?” he finally asks with a bland look on his face

you wince a little when he doesn’t use your name and it looks like he notices the reaction. he makes no commentary on it

“this is my job. let me do it properly.” you explain nudging him to the side so your path doesn’t coincide with zeke’s

levi looks at you poking a tongue in his cheek clearly not amused nor happy

“i’ll do what i want.” and with that said and done he walks on ahead. you take note of the fact that despite saying he’ll do what he wants he does in fact comply with your instructions and walks in the opposite direction and into a nearby convenience store

sighing you rummage through your backpack trying to find your meds

your head has been pounding since you’ve arrived and you hope to fit in at least one nap

looking up to survey the area the street is clear and there is no sight of zeke. you feel at ease at that discovery, not only does he cause you discomfort but he’s a general displeasure to interact with

his tuft of dirty blonde hair irks you to no end and you’re up for no conversation with the man who who ended erwin’s career

he’s the last person you want to ever initiate small talk with.

but fate is a weird thing is it not? because as soon as you’re sure you’ve escaped the clutches of zeke jaeger you hear a chuckle behind you

“well if it isn’t levi’s side piece?”

a hand lands on your shoulder but you shake it away immediately

jaw clenching you try to ignore zeke as best you can but he continues to taunt you

“imagine if levi got an actual coach and not a whore to fuck in the gym?”

turning to face him you see him midway through shrugging his shoulders

believe it or not there had been a time where you and zeke were good friends. a time where he hadn’t let fame get to his head.

so for him to refer to you like that does make your heart sting a little

“cat got your tong-”

and there it is

the long overdue punch

it hits him right in the jaw without warning and you’re tripping trying to stop levi - who might you add has shown up from NOWHERE.

you thought he was shopping?????

“you know if i needed to swing at him i could have?!?” you whisper shout at him completely infuriated that he’s possibly thrown away his chance of competing

“you weren’t going to though.” he says plainly and you can’t deny it.

you don’t have it in you to swing at zeke.

levi doesn’t choose to inflict more pain on his opponent and instead kneels beside him leaning by his ear

you don’t know what he whispers - you’re completely out of ear shot but it’s not even thirty seconds later till levi rises and saunters away seeming content

shooting zeke an apologetic look for the over the top beating you’re surprised to see him look...regretful?

whatever levi said you wonder what it was

it’s been a solid fifteen minutes of you walking behind levi

his back is all you’ve seen so you have no idea about his mood and it’s not that you’re intimidated or anything but peering in just to look at his face is a little odd so you choose to stay a suitable distance away

“y/n.” he says finally when he reaches his hotel room.

fishing through your backpack for his keys you’re surprised when he holds your wrist to stop you

“listen to me.” he sounds calm but slightly on edge

“has zeke always said those things?”

twiddling your thumbs you awkwardly laugh

“well no, we used to be friends. remember how i told you ages ago? he was so cool back then and yeah i miss that zeke :-) but i don’t know what’s up with him.”

you’ve never really told anyone about how you feel about zeke’s hostility so you’re getting KINDA emotional right now thinking about the friend you miss

“i mean to ask, since you started coaching me has he always said that?”

“it was a bit before that but yeah. it’s no big deal at all. people change, zeke changed. i can’t do anything about it.”

moving to find his room keys again you don’t expect for him to hold his grasp

looking up at him there’s a look of simmering anger on his face

“why did you never tell me he said that about you?”

running a hand through your hair you’re only getting anxious having to deal with this in the middle of a hotel hallway

“levi. everyone says that about me. me and you are always together, all sorts of stupid rumours spread.”

“so why do you have to deal with all the malicious comments?? it’s unfa-”

“levi, the world has never been fair.”

handing him his keys he looks between you and them. he’s deciding if he wants to continue with his questioning

ultimately he decides he’s heard enough

a few hours have passed since the incident. neither you or levi have had the courage to come out of your separate rooms to discuss anything

you know you’re going to have to break the quiet and go through his possible press conference questions with him. even if you don’t want to this is your job after all.

so that’s how you end up sitting cross legged on his bed in your pyjamas. levi’s still in the shower so you’ve welcomed your self in. it’s common practice between the two of you to do so

after the one time he walked in on you naked…there’s practically nothing to hide from each other

scribbling a few ideas down onto your notepad you’re curious of what the press have in store for him this time

“yes exactly my thoughts” the sound of levi’s voice is coming from the bathroom, you suppose he’s had to take a business call and think nothing of it

“y/n?” he scoffs and you assume at first he’s calling out for you but then things take a turn for the worst

“sometimes i think about not having y/n coach me that’s all… there’s nothing wrong with that?”

oh.

so your suspicions were correct.

glancing down at the interview questions in your lap you jot down a note at the bottom

hey couldn’t stay for long but try to review the press conference questions on your own if you have the time! :-) much lov good luck, y/n !!!!

and then you retreat.

you don’t know if you make it up but you swear you hear knocking at your door during the night. you aren’t too sure but whatever it is disturbs your sleep.

stretching outside of your room the next morning you’re drowsy and beyond exhausted. you don’t even notice levi come outside.

one of his knuckles is rubbing at his bloodshot eyes. has he not slept well?

“i tried to wake you up but i guess you were asleep?” his statement comes out as a question. you’re not used to levi exhibiting much emotion at all and right now he seems unusually inquisitive.

“i was sleeping.” not even sparing him a second of your time you give him a rehearsed smile and walk off towards the hotel cafe

you can’t find the energy to even look at him

the hall is lined up with barricades to prevent possible assault or injury and you’re behind the stage with levi

the two of you have yet to say another word to each other since this morning. levi’s buttoning his shirt up and you’re looking around for his necktie. the least he can do after yesterday’s confrontation with zeke is to look presentable

“tie?” he asks over his shoulder

throwing it at him you hear a grunt of annoyance. he must have disliked that.

“can you help me with my cuff links?”

breathing out of your nose you feel anxious. you’ll have to get really close to him to do that.

but again you have to.

you take them from his hands and stand in front of him. you don’t really know how to go about this, what way is there for you to appropriately position yourself?

he’s sat on a backstage bench and checks the time on his phone “we’ve only got a few minutes left.” he’s clearly requesting that you hurry this up but you can’t seem to do it you’re completely frozen in place

“y/n, what’s wrong?” he asks

“nothing.”

he doesn’t have to know you know

“something’s wrong.”

“we’re in a hurry it doesn’t matter.” yanking him by his right sleeve you slot one of the cuff links through the slits in his shirt.

levi silently observes you fiddling with his sleeves, you can feel his stare burn into you. even as you’re moving onto the opposite side you can see from the corner of your eye that he hasn’t stopped staring

“was it something i said to you?” he asks again

a silence drags between the both of you and you debate on whether or not you’d like to enlighten levi with the information you obtained yesterday night

“more like something you didn’t say.” you finally respond.

thrusting his arm back at him his hand lands onto his lap and he opens his mouth to respond only to be cut off by an announcer

“THIS YEARS OLYMPUS RING CONTESTANTS MAY ENTER.”

crowds can be heard cheering outside but levi still hasn’t ripped his eyes off of you

“go on, maybe you’ll find a new coach after the press conference.” your bitter smile tells him all he has to know and his face visibly drops realizing what has happened

“i–”

“mr ackerman to the stage. i repeat mr ackerman to the stage!!”

he’s torn between staying behind and explaining himself or leaving to head towards one of the most important press conferences of his life

his teeth tug at his bottom lip as he looks between you and the entrance to the stage

“go levi.”

and he does.

levi’s sat on one of many chairs on the panel, he gulps taking a sip of water to calm his nerves. he’s not even nervous about the press conference, that can wait. he doesn’t know how much you’ve heard and how much you’ve misinterpreted what he’s said

he finds it weird at first that he’s even worried because you and him have a professional relationship

but then he has to stop himself from smacking the back of his own head. he knows that much isn’t true, hell if it was a strictly professional relationship he wouldn’t be walking around shirtless to get your attention

he wouldn’t lace his fingers with yours when he was nervous either 

he wouldn’t let you tend to his injuries and scold him if this was about being professional, he doesn’t tolerate being scolded by anyone but if it’s you he’ll take it

when it’s you scolding him for fucking up one of his fists it feels okay, it feels right. he feels warm inside knowing that you have to care for him if you get that angry 

he sighs feeling exasperated waiting for the last person to join the panel and get this question and answers segment over and done with

zeke makes his obnoxiously late appearance but levi doesn’t have it in him to roll his eyes. evidently he’s still stuck on you and thinking about apologizing as soon as this is finished

zeke sits right next to levi and some members of the crowd whisper amongst themselves

“have they made up?”

“think there’s gonna be another brawl??”

“i hope not they’re both my favourites…”

one of the reporters right in front of the stage but behind the barricades is the first to speak

“as we all know there has been an unmistakable sense of tension between two of the most promising contenders this year. mr ackerman and mr yaeger. would you like to put the rumours at rest?”

the question makes levi clench his jaw, zeke rolls his hands into two fists feeling just as frustrated. this is boxing not a reality tv show who cares what the terms of their long broken friendship are?

zeke nudges levi’s knee with his and levi returns the movement.

for now they’ll call a truce. it seems that both he and zeke have more pressing matters to attend to

“me and levi are bros. i’m frankly upset such a rumour started in the first place!” the crowd is mumbling again and the reporter himself is stunned by the unexpected response

“i admit that a fight which some may have saw yesterday was my fault. i had made some inappropriate comments towards his coach to get at him. it was a malicious move on my part and i hope people don’t think him and i are mortal enemies because of this bump in the road.”

zeke is so well spoken when he wants to be that levi feels self conscious sitting there having said nothing.

“mr ackerman? would you like to comment or?”

levi’s eyes light up, this is an opportunity to have you hear him. he doesn’t have to wait to explain when he can throw hints right now. you may be giving him the silent treatment but you wouldn’t miss this press conference for the world

sitting up in his chair and clearing his throat levi looks directly into one of the cameras pointed at him. he’s sure you’ll be able to see him from backstage.

“me and zeke have no other disputes apart from that i assure you. i simply value my coach greatly and so i acted rashly yesterday.”

the reporter nods along feeling pleased with the answer.

a few more questions are thrown around to the other contestants, levi sits there bored out of his mind until at the last minute before everything is just about to wrap up he’s asked a question once again

“regarding your coach, have you thought of a replacement if you win the championship?”

levi presses his lips together not understanding the question

“why would i replace my current coach?” where on earth has this question even come from??

“rumours have been flying around regarding lack of experience and the fact you’re outgrowing each other now. it’s all over boxing discussion forums.”

your hands are embarrassingly shoved into your pockets as people pass behind you backstage offering you pitiful looks. maybe wearing your bright pink team ackerman tracksuit wasn’t the best choice because everyone can hear what’s going on up front

levi’s memory flashes back to the number of times you hid your phone behind your back and awkwardly chuckled saying nothing was bothering you. he understands what you were hiding now

his mouth twists into a scowl, he knows you’re a few meters away listening to all of this and hearing it coming out of a stranger’s mouth is probably upsetting you

“i plan to stick with my coach till the day i die.”

you sit up not believing what you heard, it entirely contradicts what you heard last night

some journalists are jotting down notes, members of the audience are leaning forward listening intently

“well, why is that?” the reporter presses on

levi twirls a pen around in his hands staring off into the crowd.

“i don’t think anyone else could tolerate me.

you bite back a laugh because you know that’s true :-)

“they’re a person who saw potential in me when no one else did.”

he chuckles to himself.  “your stamina it’s great!” his witty imitation of you is rather accurate

“that was the first thing coach ever said to me.” he pauses allowing himself to reminisce.

“but i did want to drop my coach the other day.” he admits.

hearing him confess to it should make you mad, you should be pissed off right now but you can’t manage to feel that way at all

“i said it because i wanted them to relax. i never really understood the magnitude of the criticism they were receiving until recently.”

levi’s staring directly at the camera and his eyes pierce into yours, it’s as if he’s actually looking right at you

“i’d be lost without them, so i want to say to the one person rooting for me backstage, thank you for everything you do for me :-)”

you’re covering your face with your hands feeling the blush creep up your cheeks now. GOD what is he doing??? you may as well be the same colour as your tracksuit, you’ve never heard him be this sentimental in his entire life

“so no, i won’t be replacing my coach any time soon. if anything i should worry about my coach replacing me.”

levi ackerman...

he’s a HUGE idiot if he thinks you’ve ever thought of seriously replacing him

levi presses his arms against your sides when you’re both alone and in the solitude of his hotel room.

“i’m sorry for thinking you wanted to fire me.“ you mumble it into his chest feeling much too embarrassed to look up at him and say it

“also i may as well say this now but i have a fat, massive, huge crush on you “

after that you awkwardly laugh to yourself. you both kinda stare at each other and you’re meant to regret telling him how you feel right now but you don’t. having that weight lifted off your shoulders feels amazing.

"you don’t have to like me back or anything and i know you don’t like me back obviously you probably like that one actress- what was her name?? the one with the long black hair she gave you her number at a fundraiser dinner. you’d both look cute together, have i said that??”

levi gives you a blank look

“i threw her number away.”

you’re open mouthed feeling completely shocked, she’s gorgeous??

“HUH?? HELLO WHY? LEVI ACKERMAN, HAVE YOU EVEN SEEN HER??”

“i have but is she you?”

the all too familiar words from years ago ring in your ears 

nostalgia hits the both of you in waves and levi takes you in for another hug. your heart hammers in your chest and with your face pressed against him once again you can feel the irregular beat of his heart too. 

that is when you and levi formally meet for the second time. this time you are but an experienced coach and he, an experienced boxer.

:-)

[caratmagic]

—jung wooyoung—

contains: arguing, pretty offensive words, explicit content

word count: 2.3k

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Enemy Territory 🌻chapter 4🌻

You hate that you find yourself dragging your feet slowly—yet quietly— to Wooyoung’s door. Hoping that the noises you hear from behind it aren’t those of pleasure.

There’s an exchange of them chatting, audible enough to hear but not enough to make out the words. As if snooping like this wasn’t enough, you press the shell of your ear against the door. Using the frame of it to steady your body from making any unnecessary movements or noise.

A rustle. Then several more. You think you hear the sheets move.

They’ve stopped talking.

More silence, then a loud thump onto the floor.

Your heart races out of your chest and you have a hard time picturing what could possibly be going on inside Wooyoung’s room.

Footsteps hurry to the door and before you could get more than halfway down the hall, Wooyoung’s body peeks out from behind his door.

“Snooping on me now?” He scoffs with that annoyingly charming sneer. “I thought we were supposed to stay out of each other’s business? Now look who’s breaking their own rules.”

You shut your eyes tightly while your back faces your ex.

Fuck.

A breath quickly fills your lungs as you turn around in efforts to compose your expressions. You’re somehow confused as to why he was suddenly wearing a shirt.

“I— I was just about to knock and ask you what type of meat you wanted to grill, you idiot.” Your mouth moves faster than your thoughts and you’re so glad that your brain was quick enough to pull something straight out of your ass. “I didn’t want to…  interrupt.”

Wooyoung holds the door open slightly for you to catch a small glimpse of the girl politely seated at the edge of his bed. Blinking curiously at you with a content smile on her face, although her tears still stain her cheeks. “It’s not even noon yet y/n, I’m smarter than that to start having rough sex knowing that you’re in the apartment.”

This thought somehow makes your stomach turn and not in a pleasant way. You didn't want to imagine Wooyoung like this with someone else. Yet, an image of him bare and in his sexual glory flashes across your mind and for a second you forget that you aren’t single. You forget that you have a neglectful boyfriend who likes to have sex with you once a week then proceeds to avoid you until the next weekend arrives.

Does Wooyoung have sex often when I’m not around? Did he have to use the word ‘rough’? Do they have rough sex together?—

Why was the thought of Wooyoung having sex with someone else more distressing to you than the entire problem of your boyfriend literally using you as a weekend booty call?

Not a single soul should know why, because the reality of it all is that: One, Wooyoung is single. And two, you are not.

So you had no right to be bothered about it.

Right?

“Uh. Right,” You subconsciously mess with the tips of your fingers to think of what to say next since you didn’t expect that his comment would throw your mind into a loop. “Just text me when you’ve, um, decided what you want. I’ll head to the store now since you’re busy… so you’ve got 20 minutes to make a choice.”

“No need to wait 20 minutes for me to text you, y/n,” Wooyoung slowly pulls his lips into a gentle smile. A smile that sets off a million bursts of fireworks through your chest. “You already know what kind of meat I like to grill.”

Instantly you blink away the feeling—or at least try to ignore it. “People change. Just wanted to ask in case you had a change in taste.”

Wooyoung presses his lips together before nodding his head slowly. Clearly catching your composure and deciding not to point it out due to the guest on his bed. “Uh, nope. My tastes are constant, y/n.”

The worst part of it all is, your conversation was being monitored by a ditsy flower, just waiting for Wooyoung to come back and take care of her… You hated it. Everything about this set up.

Now, heading out of the apartment to get groceries seemed like a much better idea to you than twiddling your thumbs to wait for Wooyoung’s pretty guest to leave.

“I’ll head out then.”

Upon grabbing your purse and your keys, you curse at yourself mentally for getting caught snooping. Even scolding your heart for causing your mind to lose control of your emotions.

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

It had only been half an hour since you left to get ingredients for the meal with Wooyoung, yet a familiar vehicle pulls into the apartment complex parking lot.

A few flights up and your boyfriend is back at the front of your door. Sure to himself that your car has left and that you’d be gone for a while.

San punches in the code of your apartment door. When it opens, a girl stands on the other side peering up at San with a shocked expression.

“Oh hey, It’s y/n boyfriend.” She smiles before turning to Wooyoung who, at the moment, keeps a straight face.

They had finally completed their 30 minute rant session, where she comes to him for help with her loneliness. Which was a topic to talk about for another time since Wooyoung felt like it wasn’t even his place to do it for her— also, considering he’s rejected her multiple times to be something more than her emotional support friend.

He never felt like a new relationship was something he needed.

As far as relationships are concerned, Wooyoung has enough on his plate to deal with considering the ugly truth he’s recently discovered. And of course, his unsettled feelings for his gorgeous ex.

“What are you doing back?” Wooyoung asks San, holding the door open for his emotionally unstable friend.

“Uh, coming to see my girlfriend??” San exchanges an offended glare at Wooyoung.

“Oh, I thought you already had your fill for her last night… What happened? Fell asleep before you could finish the job?” Wooyoung’s words are calm yet sharp like knives. Attacking San with precision as he tilts his head in accusation. “She’s out getting groceries.” He adds.

“You know,” San narrows his eyes, striding to level his face right in front of Wooyoung’s. “You have a lot of nerve thinking you can have any say in our relationship considering you’re her fucking ex.”

“We only broke up because I decided to switch colleges last minute without telling her.” Wooyoung doesn’t back down. He’s aware that his choice was the reason why the two of you broke up and that he should’ve told you sooner he wasn’t going to go to the same college as you guys had planned. “At least I never snuck out of bed after having sex with her.”

San scoffs at the gall. “Don’t act like you fucking know me.”

“I don’t.” Wooyoung shifts his weight and sticks his hands into his jean pockets. “But I know every part of y/n way better than you do. Every. Single. Part.”

San’s hand clenches into a fist and right before he draws it back to swing at Wooyoung. The girl awkwardly standing beside them in the threshold of the door raises her voice. “Hey, as much as I like the drama, I kind of have work so if I can just pass through…”

San doesn’t steer his eyes away from Wooyoung as he takes a step to the side for the girl to get around his body. Too peeved to realize that he was blocking the door.

“…I’ll see you later, Wooyoung. Thanks for helping me out again.” She waves before disappearing into the hall.

San huffs through his nose. It’s upsetting to him that Wooyoung doesn’t even seem the least bit affected by the situation. “Why aren’t you packing your shit? Isn’t this your last week?”

As if his train of thought derails, without even waiting for an answer to his own questions, San pushes past your ex and heads straight into your room.

Looking for what he left so recklessly before sneaking away that morning.

Wooyoung, with his hands still in his pockets, calmly follows San. Watching your boyfriend’s frantic search for whatever he’s misplaced.

Since Wooyoung respects your privacy, he stops right at the entrance of your room. “Did you wait for y/n to leave the apartment?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” San tosses a pillow off your bed. Not sparing a single glance at your ex.

“I don’t know,” Wooyoung leans against the door. “I mean, if I had something to hide, I guess I’d want to wait until she was gone too.”

San stops completely. His heart drops to his stomach when he turns to your ex standing in front of your room. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Wooyoung shrugs with a playful smirk etching onto his face as one of his hands pulls something out of his right pocket. “You tell me.”

There. What San was looking for.

His phone.

“Where did you find that!?” San yells as he practically dives for it.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Wooyoung shoves it back into his pocket. Placing his hand in front of himself defensively. “Question is, why are you so upset?”

San swallows and processes quickly before clearing his throat. He couldn’t understand why his palms were so sweaty. “It’s—Because it’s fucking mine! Hand it over!”

Wooyoung shakes his head, angling his body away from your boyfriend. “It can’t be yours.”

“Are you fucking mad?” San yells again. Smacking Wooyoung’s arm away from the position he’s guarding his pocket. “Of course, it is. It’s my phone!”

“No, no, no.” Wooyoung’s stupid, playful smile begins to boil hate into San’s veins. “This can’t be your phone.”

“I’ll drop kick that fucking smile off your face, you son of a bitch, give me back my phone!”

“Dude,” Wooyoung chuckles, loving how riled up your shitty boyfriend is getting. “I swear this phone has got to be someone else’s… because when I saw it on the couch, ringing at 4 am, someone named Eunji was calling to ask if her ‘daddy’ was still going to—and I’ll quote her on this, “Rearrange my guts like you always do on Saturday nights.” And you're telling me you’re certain that this is your phone?”

The reality settles into the air and San realizes that he’s been caught cheating on you… by your ex.

This is when Wooyoung’s twisted smirk turns into an angry scowl. He’s disgusted that you found a man so indisputably vile and unloyal.

“You really think you’ll get away with this? Lying to y/n like this and fucking her once every week just to make up for how shitty a person you are?”

San’s gaze falters to the floor and he snatches his phone from the unguarded pocket of Wooyoung’s jeans. “What are you gonna do, huh? Tattle-tail on me?” He shoves it into his back pocket, scoffing. “She’ll never believe you. She hates you.”

“Even if she does,” Wooyoung turns on his heels and enters into his room across the hall. “She’ll wish you were dead after figuring out that you leave her in the mornings just to be in some other woman’s bed the very same night.”

San follows Wooyoung a few steps into the hall. “You wouldn’t dare tell her.” He spits.

An exasperated sigh paired with the front door swinging open, startles the two men away from glaring at one another.

*********

After 30 minutes of shopping, you head home.

The entire time in the parking lot, you were gathering the courage to talk yourself into confidently walking back into your house. 

So what if he was having sex? You have sex all the time with San while Wooyoung stays in the room across the hall from yours.

How is coming back home knowing that he’s having fun with a woman be any different?

Equality at its best example for it. You remind yourself as you exit the elevator.

To your dismay, You were unpleasantly greeted by a very voluptuous woman with intruding questions as to why you were going to enter into her boyfriend’s home.

You push past the nuisance at your front door. Sighing as you lazily drop the groceries onto the floor.

You can only assume that this other girl— an entirely different girl compared to the one from this morning—is Wooyoung's little problem.

This boy must be cheating… What a waste. “Taste’s are constant” my ass.

You pray that Wooyoung’s ditsy girl toy from earlier this morning has left.  Though you liked witnessing drama, you didn’t want to see two girls fight over your ex. “Wooyoung? I think you have a guest.” You call out as you take off your shoes.

To your surprise, Your boyfriend is staring at you from the hallway— eyes wide and stunned.

Wooyoung steps out of his room to stand in the hall next to San. A flat smile sets on his features as he stares at you and eunji. “I won’t need to…” He seems to be talking to San when he speaks. “Next time, set a better password on your phone. You never know who’ll scroll through your messages and send people your girlfriend’s address.”

This confuses you. Immensely. More so, when San’s face drains of all color.

“Baby! Who the hell is this girl?” Miss voluptuous checks your shoulder as she rushes past you. Headed towards Wooyoung with her arms stretched out.

What rattles your world from it’s axis isn’t that Wooyoung doesn’t hold her, it’s that the girl doesn’t even look at him. She doesn’t even acknowledge that Wooyoung’s standing there.

Instead,

She’s all over your boyfriend. Calling him “baby’ and glaring at you as if you were nothing more than a disgusting insect.

No, no… I must be dreaming.

“Sannie, who the hell is this girl and why is she coming into your apartment?”

[ chapter 5 >> ] 

[rubykgrant]

(I made sort of a comic/text illustration for my “How Church Comes Back” theory in my RVB story-line, but here is the main text with some additional descriptions that are hopefully easier to read that in picture-form. The basic premise; when Epsilon deconstructed himself, all the information that made up his “personality” had to GO somewhere... and sometimes after an EMP, digital devices will save their data to the system. The original Epsilon unit is destroyed, but the other AI units still exist, somewhere. The memories of Theta would revive Theta, Delta memories would revive Delta, ect... and the memories of Church himself would revive Alpha. Because, after all, Church is always Church- even when he’s not. He doesn’t exactly enjoy being trapped in the Alpha unit again, though...)

(… a room… no, NOT a room, a virtual space designed to LOOK like a room… familiar, but not comfortable… in fact, as he recognized it, he immediately felt restless. Like an itch to move, to get away, escape... he belonged here... he didn't WANT to belong here... but he did)

Why am I back HERE? I CAN’T be back here, I’m not even… I shouldn’t be anywhere. I shouldn’t be ANYTHING Is this just… is this me having “my life flash before my eyes”? Why just THIS? Why am I seeing something at all? OK, I’m not an expert on the after-life, but… I guess I figured I’d kinda just be nothing. Is this supposed to be purgatory for Artificial Intelligence? I mean, I guess that fits…

(Time passed… a long time? Hard to tell… it felt like a while. Maybe it was only a few hours, or a day… nothing changed in here. There was nothing in here but HIM, and he didn’t want to be here. Sometimes he sort of drifted away... stopped paying attention, let himself lose focus. It was like falling asleep, but when he woke up... he was still trapped in the same place)

Alright, I’m getting real SICK and TIRED of being here. Also getting pretty DONE with not knowing WHY. I deconstructed myself, I basically DELETED myself… Why am I still even aware of anything? Why am I stuck somewhere that looks like… if I HAVE to keep existing, can I at least… Can I just… can I find out what happened? What happened AFTER? I was ready to be gone forever, I was ready to say good-bye… I assumed everything about me would end… And I was ready for that I made peace with not KNOWING But I’m still aware, and still existing, can’t I… I just want to know if they’re OK Are they OK? Can anybody hear me? Or am I just talking to myself?

(If he was still existing, then where were the others? Delta, Theta… Gamma, Eta, Iota… he’d even settle for Omega and Sigma… just SOMEBODY else. Somebody he could interact with… somebody to help him figure out what was happening. This was… it was too much like something that had happened to him BEFORE, and it was CONFUSING. He felt like he could slip back into one of his memories, it would be so EASY to just distract himself by recreating a moment he had already lived through… but that was scary. So easy to fall into a memory, and then feel like it was happening again… he was afraid of doing that)

WHY AM I HERE? I’m not the Alpha anymore, I’m BARELY Epsilon I shouldn’t be ANYTHING, but I am… And I’m HERE. I don’t WANT to be here I’d rather be ANYWHERE but here Being stuck in Blood Gulch again would be better than HERE This has to be some kind of memory glitch… this can’t be real, this CAN’T be where I actually am. It has to be fake. It has to be a trick Oh SURE, this isn’t real, every time I was here, all I saw was… Oh no… No no no no no no no no no Please, NO

(Another failure, another failure, another failure… he wasn’t supposed to fail, he was supposed to fix problems, he was supposed to help people, what was wrong with him, why did this keep happening… NO THAT WAS BEFORE. That happened a long time ago… it seems like a long time ago. How much time has passed? It was hard to tell. This is different, though. Well, it was the same, but it was different… right? Or was THIS just a memory? Was he remembering being here again? Then why does he keep thinking about NEW memories, new parts of his life, new things that he’s done? Because he HAS done these things. He left this place behind, and he… he had gone to other places… met people… but now he was back. That didn’t make sense)

This is where they put me through all those simulations. All those fake scenarios. This is where they tricked me, and lied to me. This is where they tortured me. They made me think I was hurting people. They made me care about people, and then they made me think… They made me think I was killing people Over and over and over and over and over and over and… And… and then they DID hurt people, using me. They forced people into situations, and those people died. They created those situations because of ME They used my thoughts to manipulate people. They used fragments made from me to control people. They used me… I can’t be here, I can’t do this AGAIN. I was DONE, this was OVER. If… if I’m here... does that mean… was everything…

(It was his fault, he kept failing, he couldn’t get anything right, he was broken, why did this keep happening, he was supposed to make sure everybody succeeded, he was supposed to keep them alive, but it wasn’t working, he wasn’t working… he had to treat every simulation like it was REAL, that was the only way to be sure he was trying hard enough, but that means every failure kills him, because it kills them, even when it doesn’t. He just wants to talk to them, directly, so they KNOW he’s sorry. If he could just tell them he actually cares, he doesn’t want them to get hurt, maybe they’d understand… and if he could talk to them, maybe he’d know if they were really alive or not)

NO, IT WAS REAL. THEY WERE ALL REAL. WHAT I DID WITH THEM WAS REAL. IT HAS TO BE I know it was… please, it had to be real… I couldn’t go through all THAT, and then just… just leave… OH NO, no no no, that’s what they did to me BEFORE. They would just RIP ME OUT of a scenario when they were done. Then they would RIP OUT whatever little piece of me they thought they needed. What else? WHAT THE HELL ELSE? I already lost everything! I lost my friends, I lost the people I loved, I lost parts of my own mind! I lost my memories! I LOST MY LIFE I don’t have anything left… all I had was… was knowing they’d be OK after I was gone… I can’t lose that, too. That HAD to be real

(He keeps feeling more alone, but that doesn’t make sense, it was always just HIM in here, he didn’t have anybody else… except maybe he did, he just can’t remember… he forgets sometimes… he didn’t used to forget things. He was alone, here, just him… and then he wasn’t alone anymore. He had somebody else. Then he was alone again… except now he knew how much he didn’t like it. Somehow, that feeling kept growing, that EMPTINESS, until he felt less… and less… like himself)

I know it was real, I KNOW IT WAS. I don’t care what happens to me next, but I’m NOT letting go of that. I’m not letting go of them… I remember talking to them all, and that was REAL Tucker was REAL, Caboose was REAL. Donut, Grif, Simmons, Sarge- they were REAL. Lopez, Doc, Wash- they were REAL. Carolina was REAL Tex was… Tex was real, and I… I kept hurting her. Because they kept wanting me to bring her back. And she kept getting hurt, so I finally let her go… Please… PLEASE. They HAVE to be OK. I wanted to save them That was all I wanted, they have to be OK

(This wasn’t what happened before, NO, this was new, it was, he could remember them, he remembered his friends, he remembered everything he did, he just had to keep reminding himself that this was DIFFERENT… but it was hard to remember that… when he just kept being HERE… alone… alone like before. He missed his friends… he did have friends, didn’t he? He only had one friend, first… then they took her away, and kept her away. He had missed her, and worried about her… especially when they told him she was in trouble, and in danger, and he was supposed to figure out how to keep her alive, but he always failed. He had more friends now… friends that had been in trouble, and in danger… did he fail again?)

They have to be real. I need them to be real. Those memories were MINE, that life was MINE. They were NOT just another trick. They were real, and I saved them, I didn’t… I didn’t just… leave them… to get hurt. Please, no, I didn’t hurt them… not after all that. I couldn’t… I couldn’t stand it if I was hurting them Is that it? Is that the plan this time? Give me a whole group of friends that I care about. Give me a whole family that I… Give me all that, and then make me think they’re gonna DIE? Just to take me away at the last minute? Or are they really in danger? Are they really going to die, and I’m not even THERE? I can’t even help them? Are they going to be put into more dangerous situations… Just to see what I’ll do? Are they the new “tool” that gets used to manipulate me? Fine- FINE If I have to let them go, if I have to forget them, I will. If it keeps them safe I don’t care about anything else. I just want them to be OK If I’m just being used to hurt people again… I’ll let go of them to make it stop Hurt me all you want, but LEAVE THEM ALONE

(He drifted away from himself… it was like falling asleep, but different than the way a human might do it. He just wasn’t… “aware” of his own thoughts for a little while… he drifted away, slipped into memories, had moments where he went blank… when he focused again, he was still here. Trapped. In the little cell that had been made just for him. He belonged here, and he hated it. How long had he been here? Had he ever really LEFT here? Maybe that didn’t matter… because, in the end, he always came to the same conclusion; treat every simulation like it was real. It hurt… but if he didn’t fail, if he actually kept his friends safe… that was good enough)

What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to think? What was the point of all this? They cared about me, too That’s why this hurts, that’s why it was hard to say good-bye. I don’t know why, but they liked me. They really DID, and that can’t just… that can’t be a lie Don’t hurt them. I don’t know who’s doing this anymore, but don’t hurt them I don’t know what you want from me, but you can have it, just don’t hurt them I don’t even care about what was real or not anymore, I DON’T CARE I JUST CARE ABOUT THEM IT DOESN’T MATTER HOW MUCH THIS HURTS ME DON’T HURT THEM PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Just… let them be OK Please…

[ugh-tsumu]

hi ading !!! 4, 37, 44, 63 for the oc asks !

ATE DANI AHHHH! Thank you for sending an ask 🥺 it's pretty obvious that me and my bff @bucciaratisbralette are obsessed with them, given our constant reblogs with our fics and character sheets. We got carried away but thank you so much for asking! <333

Our OCs are members of Unità di Intelligence - an intelligence unit from JoJo's Bizarre Adventures universe

OCs ASK GAME

Matteo // Erebus

4.) What is a noticeable physical attribute of your OC?

His bangs are white because of polisios that he inherited from his father (he also has white spots on the back of his head but he dyes it because someone called him a dalmatian once). he's also quite tall and pale so people notice him right away.

37.) What is your OC’s biggest dream?

He doesn't currently have a dream that he wants to achieve. Rather, he doesn't have the time to think about having one because he's too busy living in the present to think about what he wants in the future. for now, he can say that he just wants to keep his unit safe and stay avoid his father.

44.) What are some things that greatly upset your OC?

He doesn't like it whenever people are being incompetent. He also doesn't like it whenever the subject of his past and his family are brought up, he'd like to leave it behind. He also gets annoyed by customers sometimes if they get too Karen-y at him or his team. (Poor Matt)

63.) How does your OC display love?

He doesn't know how to properly express it, but sometimes he will tell you that you did a good job and that you should take a break. would probably also give you a thumbs up if he thinks it's appropriate.

Ivano // Deus

4.) What is a noticeable physical attribute of your OC?

He's the shortest on the lot HAHAHAHAHA. His eyes are peculiarly blue. Like, beautiful blue. Gojo blue! And I don't know if it shows but Suga was my inspiration for his look hehe.

37.) What is your OC’s biggest dream?

Oh, to manipulate Matteo! It was the sole reason why he joined the unit.

44.) What are some things that greatly upset your OC?

He hates not being in control. Ivano probably has God complex. He thinks everyone is under his control (not really)

63.) How does your OC display love?

He is really rude to the members but I don't think Ivano understands the concept of 'love' and 'family'. Up to this day, he's still confused about why he cares for his members or his 'puppets'.

4.) What is a noticeable physical attribute of your OC?

She's actually quite muscular and has very toned legs and biceps. the darker skin tone also attracts a few eyes on her because of where they are situated on (Italy).

37.) What is your OC’s biggest dream?

She dreams of the day when the identity of the person who gave the order to kill her people is revealed to her. She waits for the time when she can inflict the same amount of pain they had caused her. she hasn't found them yet but she's getting there with the help of Matteo.

44.) What are some things that greatly upset your OCs?

She really values loyalty and those who are special to her. Do anything to betray her or hurt those dearest to her, then you can probably expect either your water to be poisoned or something happening to your blood. Her biggest pet peeve however is when people litter and when someone smokes near plants (she's alright with you smoking but just don't be near any plants)

63.) How does your OC display love?

She likes making hot chocolate for people that she cares about. She'll ask about their day and would be down to cuddle with them while they're watching movies on the tv.

Gnu // PX or Prayer X (pronounced as Gee-nu)

4.) What is a noticeable physical attribute of your OC?

Gnu is noticeably feminine. It's because the cult his family was part of (and he escaped from) groomed children to become "lady-like". Gnu also wore clothes that are color white so now, he's VERY obsessed with black clothing.

Another thing that is noticeable from Gnu are the two dots on his cheeks. These are actually tattoos that he got from the tattoo shop Mundo suggested back when he was still exploring his taste in fashion.

37.) What is your OC’s biggest dream?

His dream is for things to stay as it is, really. He considers his members as his family now and to lose his family for the second time is something he'd rather not happen.

44.) What are some things that greatly upset your OC?

Gnu hates seeing children getting hurt. By children, I mean anyone younger than him. That's why he's kind of protective of Achiyaku, Finn, and Mundo. He also hates people who are greedy for power. This killed the other children from his cult, after all.

63.) How does your OC display love?

I'd like to say his love language is Acts of Service? He likes to draw quick sketches (he's a great painter) of the other members. He's pretty protective with the younger ones, too - even does the things for them even (like reaching this, picking up that, cleaning this, closing that, the little things).

Mundo // Mundo

4.) What is a noticeable physical attribute of your OC?

He's....so random. He has this tacky hoodie and he has nothing underneath it. His hair is dyed with an unusual shade of blue. His glasses don't match the "aesthetic" he's trying to pull and he has this weird stars and moon tattoo under his eyes (yes, he got it when he recommended the tattoo shop to Gnu).

It's not even possible to not physically notice him. The colors are all over the place and he's...exotic.

37.) What is your OC’s biggest dream?

Mundo is short and simple minded. As of now, he consideres joining the unit as his biggest dream (he is not an official member) in which Matteo (the leader) does not approve of since he's only 16 and should be studying instead of loitering at their business.

44.) What are some things that greatly upset your OC?

Hmmmmm....Mundo is a very positive person so I don't know if there are things that upsets him. I barely know him as a character, but he loves to have fun and he barely shows other sides of him to others. His background story has not been posted yet but Mundo is an individual the others barely know. No one knows his real name, his family background, where he studies, his real intentions, etc.

He's very mysterious....

63.) How does your OC display love?

CLINGY. CUDDLES. SURPRISE TACKLES. SURPRISE HUGS. He's like that younger brother that's literally obsessed with anything you do. He loves to cling to Ivano the most and Ivano keeps on swating him away (he "hates" him, he said) but this does not stop him from pestering him LOL.

Finn // Hermes

4.) What is a noticeable physical attribute of your OC?

His cheeks are really full and are soft to pinch (but please don't pinch without permission. Also why he looks younger than he is)

37.) What is your OC’s biggest dream?

He wanted to become a bigshot in the robotics and AI field, but after running away when his brother died, he doesn't know anymore. he still likes his robots and coding so the dream might not be dead afterall.

44.) What are some things that greatly upset your OC?

he doesn't like it whenever people would talk bad about his brother (back in Germany). he also doesn't like it whenever people gossip about his team (especially those who talk badly about Ivano and Matteo). Finn also doesn't appreciate it if people were to touch anything that he was working on (be it a new model for his robot or his laptop if he's working on a code). Also gets annoyed whenever people call his stand creepy (he personally doesn't understand why they think so (RBR in the back: 👁👄👁) )

63.) How does your OC display love?

he smiles more around people and would try to engage in conversation more often. he would let them touch the robots he's working on and explain to them how it should function if he gets the coding right (MUNDO LOVES THEM EVEN IF HE DOES NOT HAVE A CLUE). also cuddles are appreciated.

[favefandomimagines]

Queen of Mean (p.p.)

Summary: after Peter breaks up with you, you turn to the dark side. and only he can bring you out of it.

AN: inspired by the song ‘queen of mean.’ I thought this was a cool, star wars-esque concept. angst upon angst!!! oh and it’s Maximoff!reader

The break up with Peter came as a shock. You thought the two of you were fine and that everything was great but then he dropped that bombshell on you. 

And it was MJ. He claimed to be in love with MJ and that she was helping him and then he just threw you to the wayside. It destroyed you. Being abandoned by yet another person you’d gladly die for. 

It wasn’t enough for the universe to take Pietro from you and now it took Peter too. Wanda was off finding herself and that left you alone. 

Going back to school was even harder. Seeing the two of them together was a different kind of pain that you weren’t used to feeling. That’s when you decided to change every aspect of yourself. 

You started hanging out with the popular crowd; the cheer team, Brad, the kids who made fun of Peter. You had no love towards him anymore so why not hang out with the people who feel the same way? 

You dyed your hair a darker color, changed your clothes and you even started using your powers more. It was like something snapped inside you. You weren’t the hero who helped save the world countless times. You weren’t the girl who was lovesick over Peter Parker. 

It was a whole new you. One that changed for the worse, not the better. Your hatred towards Peter turned you into something you didn’t know you could be; a villain. It brought you back to the times in Sokovia and how Ultron used you and your siblings and the hatred you had for his own personal gain. 

But this time it was under your control. 

You were walking down the hall at school with your friend and stopped at your locker with her. A locker that was right next to Peter’s, who was standing there alone. 

“There’s a party at mine this Saturday. You’re coming right?” Your friend asked. “Um, of course I will. I could use it.” You replied. “Another night with your secret boyfriend?” She questioned, a teasing tone in her voice. “You could say that.” You replied. 

The truth was, you were out making Spider-Man’s life miserable. Every time he was out patrolling, you were there to steer him off course. It was the least you could do after the hell he put you through. And those nights took a physical toll on you. 

“I’ll send you pics of my outfit. See you at lunch.” Your friend told you before walking away. You noticed Peter staring at you and scoffed before rolling your eyes. “What are you looking at, Parker?” You snapped. 

“N-Nothing. You’re just different.” He replied, giving you sad eyes. “That’s what happens when a jerk breaks your heart. You change.” You spat, slamming your locker and walking away from him. 

Peter watched you walk away and as he was staring at you, your hair triggered a familiar image in his head. His mind flashed back to the other night on a roof of a building, a y/h/c girl in a mask, trying to stop him from catching a car thief. 

She looked like you, sounded like you, had the same powers as you. He didn’t know how he couldn’t see it sooner. You were his new nemesis. And it was all his fault. 

__

Peter left school that day, trying to get in touch with your older sister. Or anyone who could talk you off the ledge. He feared that the longer you let hate run your life, the more permanent it’s going to become. 

He was scared for you. He still cared about you and you were going down a dark path, a dark path that he led you down. 

“Karen, track Y/N. Where is she?” Peter asked his AI. “Y/N is off the grid. Her bracelet has been deactivated.” Karen told him. Peter groaned as he swung from building to building, trying to find you. 

Tony had given you a bracelet after Sokovia to keep an eye on you. He didn’t want you to think he was watching you all the time, so with the bracelet, he was able to find your location whenever it was necessary.

Peter landed on a roof top, getting a chance to breathe and scanning over the city. 

“The friendly neighborhood Spider-Man at it again. And inevitably, going to fail.” You spoke, standing behind him with your arms crossed over your chest. “I know it’s you, Y/N. You aren’t good at having a secret identity.” Peter said. 

Your arms dropped to your sides, taken aback by his words. You then laughed lightly as you took the mask off your eyes. “Why are you doing this? Why are you acting like this?” Peter asked, standing from his crouched position to face you. 

“You really have to ask that question? Seriously?” You replied, an evil look on your face. “This isn’t you.” He said. “And how would you know?” You yelled. “You were never there! After Tony and Steve, you went AWOL and decided that MJ was the one who could help you heal!” You added. 

“You broke me, Parker. You broke me for someone who has no idea what you’re going through. She didn’t have to watch as everyone she loved turned to dust. She didn’t have to watch her only father figure die in front of her. She didn’t lose everything, like I lost everything.” You continued. 

Peter didn’t realize how bad he made you feel until you were standing in front of him, different from the girl he fell in love with. You were cold, angry and vengeful and he drove you to that. “She took the only thing I had. I think I have a right to be angry.” You snapped, your hands glowing green. 

He looked at your hands and knew that you were getting overwhelmed and your powers were beginning to control you. Not the other way around. 

“Y/N, you need to breathe.” Peter said. “No, no, no. You don’t get to do that anymore. You don’t get to care or check up on me or make sure I’m breathing. You did this to me.” You rebutted. 

Your fingers began to twitch as your eyes glazed over. Your powers had completely taken over and you didn’t know if you could stop them. You tried though. You really did because though you wanted Peter to feel the same pain you were feeling, you didn’t want to hurt him. You didn’t want to hurt anyone. 

But when your powers got like that, it was hard to keep them in check. Peter could see this. It happened in Germany when all the fighting became too much for you. Only when Wanda talked you down, did you go back to normal.

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me. Listen to the sound of my voice. This isn’t you. You’re the funny, stubborn, beautiful girl who I fell in love with. The girl who will stop at nothing to protect the people she loves.” Peter started. “You don’t mean any of that. You left me for MJ. You don’t get to stand there and tell me that.” You said.

Your voice was shaking and he could see that your powers were draining your energy. You sunk to the ground before letting out an ear splitting scream and everything went quiet. 

When the dust cleared and Peter looked back to where you once stood, he saw you lying on the ground, not moving and completely unconscious. 

“No, no, no, Y/N.” He muttered, rushing to you. He scooped you up and held you as your body rested in his lap. “Come on, Y/N, you gotta wake up. Please.” Peter whispered to you. 

He noticed the blood coming from your nose and your eyes. It was in that moment that he realized where he needed to be and who needed to be with. It was always going to be you. 

You were always going to be the girl who was able to calm him down when he thought about Mr. Stark and what happened that day. The one who made sure he was eating enough or brought him food when he was patrolling. 

He knew it was wrong because he was with MJ and there was no excuse to how he treated you. He couldn’t count all the times you’ve been there for him on one hand. But he could count the amount of times he was there for you. And yet he hurt you even more than you already were. 

Your eyes snapped open and you gasped for air, trying to sit up. “Y/N? Oh my god.” Peter said, pulling you into him. “What happened?” You asked. “Y-Your powers went out of control. You passed out.” He answered. 

You looked up at him and it all came flooding back. The things you said and the things he said. You started to move away from him as he helped you stand up. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything I put you through. You didn’t deserve any of it. You were there for me when no one else was. You were right. You understand what I’m going through and I left you. I broke you, Y/N. And I will spend every second of my life trying to fix that.” Peter added. 

“Peter, you can’t. You’re with MJ. That’s who you chose.” You rebutted. “I chose wrong.” He replied quickly. “I was stupid to think that there could be anyone after you. There’s only you.” He added. 

You stared at him, tears in your eyes before you shook your head. “I can’t,” You said in a whisper. “I was awful to you.” You added. “You were hurting, Y/N. If the roles were reversed, I would have done the same thing.” Petter said. 

“And I wouldn’t forgive you, so you shouldn’t forgive me. I don’t deserve it.” You rebutted. 

Peter walked towards you, though you backed up a bit afraid you’d hurt him. He continued his trek towards you though and took your hands in his. 

“Y/N, I forgive you.” He said to you sternly. You looked down at your hands in his for a few seconds before looking up at him. “But MJ. You can’t do this to her.” You spoke. “Y/N,” Peter started. 

“I’ll leave you alone and I’ll stop trying to interfere with your patrolling.” You said, backing away from him. “I’ll see you around, Parker.” You finished before leaving him alone on the rooftop. 

All while Peter watched the girl of his dreams walk away from him. 

Part 2?? Yes?? No?? Let me know!!! xx

[katsukikitten]

Hi! 💋 What about a nsfw w/ bakugou where it’s Valentine’s & (quirkless) reader makes chocolates and leaves them at his work. However she forgets to leave her name so he throws them away thinking it’s from someone else. He tells her about the “anon” valentine and insults the gift.(Trying to show off his loyalty, the egoist). She cries and he,confused, goes to comfort her. When things get spicy he finds another gift under her dress. Bonus for 💕 lingerie & toys 🌹 rough Baku / quirk use 🍓cum.

Hello anon, HERE IS THE FINAL DAY OF THE EVENT. thank you to everyone who submitted. I may have energy for more I may not it really depends on my spastic ass. ENJOY!

Finally, after countless hours in the kitchen, it was done.

You step back admiring your work, the homemade box of chocolates has your own heart soaring, especially after you crafted your own molds. Intricate roses, peonies, and petunias stare back at you, petals painted in soft pastels of chocolates while the rest of the delicate square is either dark or all white chocolate.

This was one of the many times you were thankful your husband told you to stay home to work on your dream.

Your dream to be a test kitchen, to sell recipies, molds and chocolates. All sorts of things.

And it was helpful that your man was also willing to be your test subject most of the time. Today being Valentine's day was a bonus. You remove your apron, hanging it up by the kitchen door excitement thrumming through your blood as you smooth down his favorite dress you own.

The train ride seems to drag on for forever despite being only fifteen minutes away from the ominous building that scrapes the sky above you. Separating clouds as you spy his office window near the top floor.

"Stay out of my office got it?" His voice bites out to his secretary who is wearing an obnoxiously hoeish outfit. Bright red skin tight with a heart cut out over her breasts. Bakugou is annoyed with her normally what with her overly flirty behavior but is especially agitating today when he just wants to he home with you.

"Oh Bakugou-sama are you stepping to lunch. I could accompany..." Before she can even finish he looks over his shoulder with a deadly glare. So much so the flowers on your desk seem to wilt.

"No." A nasty bite before he angrily shoves popping hands in his pockets taking the stairs down in attempt to loosen his aching legs. He had been sitting at his office desk for far too long.

Just as the heavy door slams shut you step out of the elevator. Chocolates neatly placed in a white box with a cellophane window to display your hours upon hours of work.

"Ah Ai, you look lovely today." You smile, admiring her outfit as you walk towards your husband's office. She gives you a once over with cold judging eyes.

You either do not notice or do not care as you walk past her desk.

"Oh Bakugou-sama stepped out for lunch. You just missed him." She smiles cruelly only to be met by your obnoxiously bright smile that she hates.

"Perfect. Then he will come back to a surprise." You wink slipping through the door.

You notice a lot of flowers and chocolate in the trash can of his office as you make way to his desk. You make a silent reminder to yourself to lightly scold the hero.

He should at least wait a day, or hell give back out some of the stuff he recieved.

Still you neatly placed the box on his keyboard so he was sure to see it.

"Y/N? Have you had coffee yet? I've made you a mug to go." Ai pokes her head in with the paper cup in hand. You smile warmly at her, oblivious to her animosity as you grab on to the paper cup with joy.

You desperately needed caffeine. You greedily gulp at the warm liquid after saying your good byes as you headed home.

You dig through your purse for your keys to the front door spying a small pink envelop, eyes widening a bit.

"Shoot I forgot the card." You curse yourself. "Ah well I'm sure he'll know they're from me."

You set your purse on the entry table and notice a giant stuffed animal and dozens and dozens of roses on the dining room table.

A small note in his boyish handwriting sits by the vases.

*"Guess I just missed you babe. See you tonight."*

You smile until your cheeks hurt.

Hours pass as you soon begin to make the dinner of his dreams. Half way cleaning away your mess and neatly stacking chocolate orders for White day.

Bakugou alerts you that he is home by groaning at the door, slipping off his ever present combat boots.

"Smells good babe." He says wrapping strong arms around your waist, kissing on your neck.

"Mmhmmm." You hum, impatiently waiting for him to tell you how the chocolate was, "How was your day?"

"Ugh long. This holiday sucks." He kisses your throat again, "No offense babe."

You roll your eyes. For someone who thinks the holiday sucks he sure went out of his way to buy every last rose at the floral shop.

"It's just an excuse for people to buy shit and bother the fuck out if me with it." His voice darkens with agitation before he scoffs, "Like I came back to lunch to the shittiest chocolate I've ever seen. Little bitch flowers all painted and shit from some fucking random."

Your heart speeds in your chest as he continues.

"Left 'em right on my fucking keyboard as if they were more important than work." You turn to shove him off of you then. Tears streaming down your red cheeks as he blinks furiously. For the life of him he cannot tell why in the fuck you're crying.

"Baby what's wrong..." Scarlet eyes notice the molds first, how their art is vaguely familar, little white boxes stacked on the far counter. Then he notices the apron he got you is stained with colors of pinks, whites and browns.

It is then he realized that he fucked up.

"Oh baby...." He damns himself for being so callous.

"What did you do with them?!" Your voice cracks, trying hard to sound enraged but it falls flat. He bites his lip, hands smoothing over your forearms.

"I...I'm sorry. I had a skewed vision on your chocolate. I thought they were from the hoe who sits outside my office." He says quickly, "Had I known...I would have loved them. I really thought it was Ai trying to make an advance on me..."

He wipes the tears from your face, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead.

"You probably slaved over them all day, probably made my favorite spicy chocolate you make and I was an asshole and just trashed them...In trying to be loyal to you I hurt you..." His voice is feather soft as is his kiss on your forehead, then your cheeks and lips. He notices your dress beneath the apron that he removes slowly face contorting to lust as he drops the cloth to the floor.

He leans in slowly, running his teeth and tongue against your throat to which you moan.

"Bakugoooo." He loves the way you drag out his name, popping hands slip the zipper down your delicate back, "I..I'm still mad..."

"You don't sound mad." He says too cocky for his own good, "Isnt this helping?"

He pulls the dress to the floor, leaving you in nothing but black heels, a lace bra with little red bows in the middle and black lacy underwear. He turns you growling as he does, when he sees a matching red bow over your ass he leans down to bite a cheek.

You lightly yelp before he pushes you against the dining room table in the kitchen. Sloshing the flower water onto the set table.

"B..but dinner..." You groan as he massages you, untying the bows on your bra to slip his fingers over your nipples.

"Fuck dinner. I'm skipping to dessert." His voice is deadly as his popping back indicates his excitement, as does the hard thing in his dress pants that presses against your ass as he bites your shoulders. His words have your head floating as his finger nails scrape down your back before grabbing onto your hips tightly giving a playful thrust that causes a small moan.

Just the promise of what he is about to give has your core molten and he can tell as he pulls back. Hands slipping over slick thighs, spreading them apart.

He pulls down your underwear all the way down and when a butt plug is revealed to him he groans.

"Fuuuuck." He growls, watching you contract before he slides a finger up and down your sex, "So wet already."

"J...just for you." You pant when he reaches your needy clit, massaging it roughly setting a fast pace that threatens to have you screaming in a matter of moments. He watches you buck and squirm with a wolfish grin. He removes his hand earning a small whimper before he drops to his knees.

You are the only person he would fall to his knees for with out any sort of hesitation as his pink tongue lazily laps at your sex. Hands spreading your ass cheeks to get better access. His tongue runs stripes up your pussy, that clenches tightly with every swipe.

He laps at your core before placing his lips over your clit to give it a harsh suck.

"You must love being devoured by a wolf huh my needy lamb?"

You cry out as he continues to make a meal of you, your fingers tweaking your nipples for added stimulation.

"I...I'm clooooose." You whine as he moves his face away from your clit to plunge into your core a few times with a pointed tongue. Lapping all that he can.

"Good. Now cum on Sir's face." He growls, mouth back to your swollen clit, sucking harshly, grazing teeth and steady broad tongue has heat swelling in your chest, a light buzz in your head before it all goes quiet.

And like a sprung trap you cry out, convulsing as you ride out your high only for him to press further. Overstimulating you for another agonizingly blissful ten minutes as you lose count of how many times you've cum.

He slows to a loving pace before his fingers slide over your clit as he stands. You pant, tears forming in your eyes from an exhausted body and mind as your body slowly turns limp. Head swimming on an unseen high that has Bakugou smiling down at you, wiping your sweetness from his mouth with his sleeve.

"I'm not done with you yet, love." He says making quirk work of turning his belt into an impromptu set of handcuffs. He tightens them around your wrists giving them a tight tug. You jerk up some to which he slaps your ass.

"You okay bunty?" You nod unable to form words as he removes his pants. Stealing some of your slick to stroke himself with. He half wishes to keep you this way all night. Tied up, thighs soaked, fucked out with some drool falling from your lips.

The thought alone has him lust hungry and wanting to paint your back in the nicest of white.

Instead he finds himself teasing your clit again until you moan his name is a scream begging him to fuck you.

Your clenching cunt confirms your wishes before he plunges in busting his hips against yours as you finish your last high.

You pant beneath him, core gripping onto his length over and over that has him hungry to pull it from you again. One hand holds onto your belted hands while the other has a bruising grip on your hips. Your face is pressed agaisnt the table as are your breasts. He sets a brutal pace, pulling all the way out to his tip before plunging himself again, slamming against you with deadly precision. He pulls your arms closer to him, causing your upper body to come up some. Your nipples drag agaisnt the rough fabric of the dining table cloth earning an echoing moan.

"Fuck." He snaps, hand leaving your hip to slap your ass harshly, thrusting again and again, "You always take me so well. Your cunt is so needy for me."

He rut begins to turn sloppy and bruising as he bottoms out into you, now pushing your harshly on your back pressing you agaisnt the table. Thrusting hard enough that vases of flowers begin to knock over but that is the least of your worries.

Heat pools down your legs and in your stomach as you feel him twitch. Sending you to another high, loving nothing more than the thought to cause him to act to wild. So rough as he loses himself with popping hands that sting but never burn as his hands grip your skin. Your voice comes out in hoarse moans as you flex your pelvic muscles causing a moan to come from Bakugou. Another thrust over your sensitive g spot has you spiralling. Screaming again as he let's out a giant explosion from his back groaning as he buries himself deep inside you, filling you to the brim with hot seed. Sputtering until he stills, both of you panting, he removes the belt from your wrists, rubbing at the redness before carefully pushing them back to a more natural angle.

"I lo..." But the smoke alarm drowns him out, dinner burning on the stove. He waves his shirt over head to displace some of the billowing smoke as you remove the pan. Almost dropping it using too limp hands. He supports you, moving the pan and you to the sink. Warming a rag that he wipes you down with before kissing your neck.

"I love you." He murmurs into your throat and you smile, pulling him into your plush and bruised breasts.

"I love you too." You sing happily before he pushes out of your hug to give you a kiss and a cocky grin, he snatches you and a box of chocolate up as he carries you to the couch. He places the box into your hands before setting you to sit on top of him. He holds his mouth open, tongue outstretched that has you thinking of it against you moments ago.

"I'm dying for that chocolate baby." He says again, eyes twinkling happier than anything that you forgave him for being a big dumbass.

Next valentines day he won't throw away a single chocolate.

[thegracelessfaceless]

Hey, I hope you‘re doing good!

If you‘re okay with it, I‘d like to ask for a creepypasta matchup please!

Physical stuff:

I‘m around 5‘7 with a rather athletic build and I‘m definitely working on having defined muscles, even though some people look at me weird for that, since I‘m a girl. I have dark blonde hair at around shoulder length and am rather pale. I get a lot of compliments about my eyes, which are light-brown and have very long and dark eyelashes. Most people even assume they’re fake at first glance.

I tend to wear whatever style fits my mood, but I have a special love for business clothing. But I also really like being comfortable, so I also have a lot of leggings and oversized hoodies. I pretty much always wear some kind of necklace and earrings though, no matter which clothes I have on.

General stuff:

About the MBTI - I always either get ENTJ or ENFJ. I‘m a Gemini sun with a Scorpio moon and Sagittarius rising, which are constantly at war.

I‘m also Demi-pansexual, but have a preference in men.

Hobbies:

- Reading, writing, drawing

- Climbing, Karate, going to the gym, yoga

- learning new languages

- learnings about politics, economics, philosophy and science (AI, biology, physics and I‘ll just count learning hacking into here as well)

- cooking and baking

Likes:

Nature, forests and mountains especially, animals (I own a cat), adventures big and small, going for long walks in the early morning, play-fights, talking to/ getting to know strangers, discussing politics and philosophy, tidy rooms, tea, coffee and hot chocolate, learning new things

Dislikes:

People who don’t care about logic and studies and can’t admit that they‘re wrong, boredom, people with no passions/interests whatsoever, people who hate risks and take themselves too seriously

Values:

1. FREEDOM. I won’t ever let anyone take that away from me. I can’t stand making myself dependent on someone - or someone making themselves dependent on me. Freedom does not mean coldness or distantness however, just that you trust your partner. Jealousy is a big no-no in the longterm.

2. Love. Most people just want to be understood and to be seen. I want people to be able to be whoever they want to be with me. I walk towards people having in mind that I like them and they can work their up or down from there. But even if I don’t end up liking them, I‘d still help them if they need it. Because, after all, I just love making peoples day a little better.

3. Success. If I want to reach a goal, I‘ll do everything necessary to do so. That doesn’t mean though that if I realize this goal was a mistake that I still wouldn’t stop and just keep on going the wrong way - that wouldn’t be true success. True success for me requires following my moral compass and reflecting my choices a lot.

Other:

- I love to daydream and coming up with short stories

- can and will send you pictures of cute animals I‘ve drawn with sentences like „lil‘ cat is coming to make your day a lil‘ better!“

- I have synesthesia: I can visually see my emotions as colors

- Because of some very bad trauma, I‘m scared of being touched in a even remotely intimate/sexual way. I need a lot of time and trust until I can enjoy even just hugging someone. This trauma is also why I wouldn’t ever want to get pregnant. It would the worst thing for me.

- I have some issues with anorexia sometimes, as well as with depression. This depression can make me have hallucinations and sometimes be very very aggressive. It’s extremely unusual for me to lose control though

- I have a ton of stuffed animals that I let only very few people touch. Most of them were gifted to me by people who were very important to me and died during my childhood. So stuffed animals are basically one of the biggest gifts to me

- the Love Language I speak is probably a mixture of quality time, acts of service and words of affirmation. But the ones I understand are quality time, words of affirmation and physical touch. I really like taking care of my own business myself the most

I match you with...

Tim Wright/ Masky

I feel like Tim can be a very patient man, and let's face it, both him and Masky have trust problems. So I feel like you would both take your time getting to know each other.

I also feel like Tim is a good match for you because he values your independent streak. Neither Tim or Masky need a girl that can't take care of themselves. He likes how hard you work towards goals and how driven you are.

I headcanon that Tim is a kind of "jack of all trades" guy, not just in physical work, but conversationally too. He'll keep you engaged in great conversation for hours, no matter the subject. He's also pretty good at reigning you back in when you get too riled up.

Tim's love languages are like yours, quality time, words of affirmation, and acts of service, but Masky is more tuned into physical touch. He can have entire conversations with you with just a few touches

Tim understands depression, given his mental health history and he cares, but he won't let you wallow in it. This is where he and Masky agree, sometimes, tough love is needed.

Tim met you outside of the library and he just had to shoot his shot. He's not sure if you were just being nice at first or picked up on his nervous energy, but you gave him a chance. The two of you stayed in the friend zone for a long time, not rushing anything.

When you met Masky, and then realized Tim wasn't aware of Masky, you decided to start working to bring them together, so they could function as a cohesive unit.

This is going... As well as can be expected.

So sometimes, it really is like you're dating two different people.

Both like to teach you new things. Tim taught you how to figure out more complex ciphers, and Masky likes to take you to the shooting range and play fight with you.

Every time either see you do something they taught you, the aura of "proud papa" comes over them.

When you finally are ready to have sex, you actually had to experience two first times, your first time with Tim and your first time with Masky (🚫Anon I saw your post on @whaleofatjme1920 's chat today, thanks for the headcanon idea!)

Masky has made it clear, no matter who it is, that you are off limits to all the other creeps. This goes to everyone from The Rake to Zalgo, to his own boss.

You won't be anyone's pawn

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

More therapy thoughts part 1/?

Behavior Theory Frameworks/Conditioning and What the fuck does Master Chief talk about in therapy?

Ramblings below - like a lot, like I spent too much time writing this and you should not read this

Behavioral Theory could work well as a framework with rehabilitating Spartan IIs if the case worker focused on Operant Conditioning Theory and Cognitive Social Learning Theory, which I talked about in this ask because I think I’m funny and this blog is an archive of me applying human behavior theories to video games.

Spartans have always been taught the mission comes first! Always! The 2s are indoctrinated from age 6-14 and then have that reinforced the rest of their lives. From the beginning they are taught to push themselves to the limits, earn their food by winning, form bonds with teammates but be ready to sacrifice them for the mission. The whole lives wasted vs spent conversation between John and Mendez after the augmentation surgery!

What the UNSC/ONI wants comes before their lives, the lives of other soldiers, civilians, AI etc. This constant conditioning of expectations and rewards has created the norms cemented in their minds. This becomes standard operating procedure.

Spartans are also an entirely separated social group, other people have made really great posts on how they are Othered and have their own way of communicating with body language. ODSTs hate Spartans, marines see them as cyborgs or saviors, and while they’re allies, Spartans are not seen or treated as human, by literally everyone. They are a means to an end, with the original goal being to maintain the UNSC’s position of power and crush the insurrectionists in the outer colonies, but uh oh Aliens!

Maybe the 2s aren’t as expendable as the 3s but the mindset and reinforcement of “mission first, people second” being repeated their entire lives is going to stick. So is the constant mistreatment and abuse from their fellow soldiers and handlers. 

Addressing the cognitive distortions that come from their upbringing while also balancing the fact that Spartans are so fundamentally different from the way they developed to survive would be so much work, especially considering how much information on them is given to their therapist.  The main distortion I would apply is minimization, making large problems small and not properly dealing with them, and specifically for John, personification, accepting blame for negative events without sufficient evidence. 

Like these are grown ass super soldiers who can kill you in less than a second and calculate the amount of gravity in a room on the fly but then also can flounder when trying to comfort civilians or make small talk because their experiences and values are so alien to adults who had more developmentally “normal” lives. 

Literally applying therapy to Spartans would be like, what was done to you was wrong, the ends do not justify the means, you were children and the adults in your life failed to protect you. You are a human person who is fallible and did the best you could with what you had. And the Spartan would say, “sounds fake but okay, can I pass my psych eval and go back to war now please?”

Jumping back to Behavior Theory

Different approaches to therapy under the Behavior Theory umbrella help modify negative behaviors with treatments like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and Dialectical behavior therapy that teach individuals adaptive coping like emotional regulation, distress tolerance, cognitive distortions, and interpersonal communication. And that’s just one framework under the umbrella of human behavior theories.

Social work therapy is different from psych as it approaches individuals with heavily researched, evidence-based theories and frameworks in a holistic viewing of person-in-environment, instead of a strong focus on internal psychology. 

Social work looks at all the interacting systems, environment, history, and internal and external factors affecting an individual. One of the most useful frameworks is the Biopsychosocial-Spiritual Frameworks (BPSS) when helping a client. It helps with identifying all the intersecting factors, both risk and protective, that shapes a client’s lived experiences. The most important thing to remember is that the individual is an expert in their own life, they know their experiences best.

The hardest part is applying this to Spartans because they Are So Fucked, their lived experiences, their environments and systems and institutions interacting with them, and the amount of their personal information that is probably so classified.

BPSS is a tool to help social workers assess individuals and their situations by collecting info that is related to the presenting issues and current and past circumstances. Info like medical history, hospitalizations, substance abuse, mental illness, personal relationships, family history and background, culture and norms, education, legal history, spirituality and participation etc. is all under this framework. 

For Spartan 2s most of this info is lost or classified and helping someone who has repressed every negative emotion they've had for the sake of the mission would be so much to unpack but that’s also why you’re reading the mad ramblings over an over caffeinated nerd on the internet.

Life Course Theory which looks at developmental milestones and the individual’s experiences versus the socially expected markers, how do you apply that to children who were taken and have lived such different lives? 

While early adolescence is when “normal” development of thoughts of self and identity take place alongside the physical changes of puberty, Spartans were being turned into emotionless calculating weapons. Sorry John, no forming a sense of identity and peer bonds for you, go kill that Watts guy who betrayed us and joined the insurrectionists. 

And now that I’ve gone this insane and opened 2 whole textbooks up, let’s get to Master Chief thoughts. If you’ve read this far thank you, I swear I’m normal, 2020 has just been a weird year. 

Why the fuck did I think I could write a therapy fic on a guy with 20 minutes of actual dialogue across almost 2 decades of games?

I make fun of him and call him a himbo, but he’s smart, he knows he’s being used and there is resentment there that’s been building for years. 

There’s also decades of trauma and combat experience, physical, and emotional abuse, the lack of a support network,  lack of an identity, the biological factors and aftermath of the augmentations and injuries he’s received, a whole lot of grief and self-inflicted guilt. 

The loss of a third of his peer group with the augmentation surgery, Sam’s death, the loss of Reach (the only place he’s considered home), Keyes, the Pillar of Autumn crew, Miranda Keyes, Johnson, Cortana. He cares about the marines who fight with him!!!

He just stands there and takes it and rarely snaps, and even then it’s just small cracks on the surface with fissures running deep. The few details I will pull from Halo 5 are Blue Team’s reactions to John pushing himself so hard from the beginning of the game, and the literal crack in his armor from the fight with Locke. Like dude.  

John’s a leader and will get the mission done but he tugs on the leash. He’s earned enough of a reputation and uses it to get his way.

Halo 2’s “Permission to leave the station” with Mr. “I’m going to hand deliver a bomb to the fusion reactor of a covenant supercarrier and hope my friends catch me”. 

Halo 4 is when we see him say no to a superior officer and then 5 is him going AWOL. Palmer literally points out that no one is going to stop him.

Halo 5 kills me for many reasons but John bringing up Halsey and what she did to him and also pointing out that he knows Halo 5 Cortana is trying to manipulate him with psychological tactics hurts. 

He knows what’s been done to him!

I cannot remember which book it was but John isn’t used to working alone. He literally takes fire because he was expecting someone to have his back! 

He’s lost without Cortana! She was in his brain! Y’all! I played Halo Combat Evolved on the original xbox when I was like 8 and I knew these two were meant to be together. From the moment they met they had great chemistry and relied on each other! Cortana literally goes after people who have it out for John! John wants her approval and shows off for her in one of the books. 

I’ve already written too much here but like all of the games have John showing off for Cortana, making dry jokes, jumping out of things he shouldn’t. 

The whole point of this rambling is to try and get my thoughts about how to approach John’s character under control.

And that’s the thing. He’s lost control. He’s lost people, he’s losing his position and being phased out as an aging spartan, a relic. John’s used to following orders and making some decisions on the battlefield but it was always short term.

He has no identity beyond being a weapon. Complete the mission, clear the LZ, get put in cryo. Rinse, repeat. 

The timeline of the games are what I'm most familiar with but with the comics and books too it’s one long run from Halo 2 to Halo 4. Cairo station to the Dreadnought to the crash landing to Forward Unto Dawn to Requiem to “The Didact is Dead but not really but we’ll deal with him off-screen”.

I know Hood apparently gave John R&R orders before Halo 5 that he ignored and kept running himself into the ground. This is a man who has to keep moving and keep being useful. 

I imagine him giving in and seeking help as a last resort to fix any problems he has with performing his duties rather than helping himself be healthier. 

Any professional he sees is going to have to approach him like they’re approaching a self sacrificing feral cat, with lunch meat and quiet. This man needs to have his support network closer, set up long term goals, and do some serious, and most likely incredibly painful, self reflection on where he’s come from and where he wants to go. Get him out of that tin can and into therapy. I don’t have a nice neat ending because this was a ramble and also therapy is not neat and tidy. Thanks for reading my words about mr halo

[7-wonders]

Season of the Witch

Summary: While you’re attempting to survive being kidnapped by a coven of vengeful witches, Michael is not taking your disappearance well. Like, at all.

Word Count: 3082

A/N: Welcome to the trash heap (aka another chapter of Mad Love). Hope everybody is safe and relatively happy right now in the midst of these turbulent times. If you ever just need someone to chat with, I’m always willing to lend an ear.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16

Much like the first time you were taken against your will, you wake up feeling like you’ve just taken a long nap instead of regaining consciousness after being knocked out. Lights shine harshly on your face, forcing you to squint your eyes while you take in your surroundings. The room is small, with no windows to be seen. You think you might be in a basement of some kind, especially with the pipes running along the ceiling. There’s not much for furnishings, just a couple of chairs at one end of the room and the threadbare mattress that you’re settled on. When you try to stand to further examine the room, a heaviness on your left ankle makes you look down and realize that you’re shackled to the floor. At least the Satanists had the decency not to chain you up when they kidnapped you.

“Hello?” you shout, walking as far as the chain will allow you to go towards the door. “Is anybody out there?”

It’s difficult to fully remember what happened before you ended up here. You’re only able to see flashes of scenes; a deer, slamming on brakes, crawling on the damp ground, and four women. You’re supposed to have a sizable cut on your forehead, but prodding the skin reveals no blemish of any kind. Did you just imagine the crash and your injury, or have you been out for longer than you thought?

You’re startled when two of the women you had seen in the woods appear in the room without the door opening. The blonde with kind eyes and the redhead who’s dressed like your elderly grandmother’s floor lamp stand across from you, both staring as they attempt to learn what your move will be.

“Who are you people? Where did you take me?” Your voice comes out harsher than you meant, but you really can’t be blamed.

“Why don’t you have a seat (Y/N)? We can further discuss what’s going on, and talk about getting you unchained.” You narrow your eyes, but sit on the mattress since you’re not exactly in a position to be arguing. “My name is Cordelia Goode, does that sound familiar to you?”

“No, should it?”

Cordelia pulls a chair closer to you before sitting down, but the other woman remains standing. “I was just trying to gather the extent of your knowledge on the situation. What do you remember before ending up here?”

“I was,” you pause, the argument that you and Michael had making you huff angrily, “there was a deer that ran out in front of me when I was driving, and I lost control of my car and crashed.”

“I do apologize for that. We weren’t aware of how much it had rained, or else I would have never conjured that illusion. The crash was not something we were planning on.”

“Wait, you made me crash my car?” It only takes a second for you to connect the dots. “Holy shit, you’re witches!”

You don’t know if this is good or bad. The witches are Michael’s enemies, which means they took you for a reason. However, you didn’t need rescuing from Michael; it had been almost a year since your arrangement had begun, and you were far from his captive. Although Michael had never outright told you how Ms. Mead came to be an AI, you had snooped in his office one day and found files related to her creation. A descriptive summary of the background told you everything you needed to know about the capture and execution of Michael’s mother figure, with the goal being to weaken Michael’s resolve to carry out his father’s mission. 

Seeing the panic on your face, Cordelia offers you a reassuring smile. “There’s nothing to worry about, you’re safe.”

“Safe? How the hell am I safe? You kidnapped me!”

“You’re not dead, though, which is ‘safe’ in my book.” The other blonde appears now, obviously not pleased at having to be here.

“But you’re planning on killing me.” They glance at each other awkwardly, not sure how to explain their plan. “Oh, don’t act coy now. I know what you did with Ms. Mead. It was only a matter of time before I was next.”

“As of right now, you’re just...a bargaining tool. You’re what will bring Michael to his knees. It’s obvious that our original plan failed, which is why we’re trying a new tactic,” Cordelia says.

“You couldn’t have just sent him an email?” you ask dryly.

“This was more likely to get his attention.”

“Michael’s going to come for me, you know,” you fold your arms across your chest haughtily, “and when he does, he’s gonna be pissed.”

The other blonde smirks as she bends down in front of you, and you hiss when her manicured nails dig into the skin of your cheeks. “Mm, bold of you to assume that he’s going to show up at all.”

“Madison,” Cordelia chastises, yanking the younger woman up.

“Look, I don’t feel the same, but Michael loves me. And though I don’t know a lot about whatever’s going on between you, I do know that Michael hates all of you.”

“But you told him not to contact you for a few days.” Your spine stiffens when you hear a voice that’s all-too familiar, with Mallory completing the quartet that had found you in the woods.

“Mallory,” you whisper in disbelief. “How do…?”

“You got into a fight with Michael and you told him that calling and texting would do no good because you needed to be alone for a couple of days.” 

“You were in on this? You’re a witch?”

Mallory gives a pained nod, filling you with sick pleasure at the knowledge that she’s not enjoying this. “I wasn’t able to--”

“What the fuck, Mallory!” You lunge for her, determined to get your hands on her and show her just how hurt you are, but the chain around your ankle jerks you painfully to the ground. Mallory opens her mouth to speak, but Cordelia’s hand on her shoulder stops the words before they can form.

“Why don’t you leave for a little bit?” You glare at the women, scoffing darkly.

“Yep, run away Mallory, go ahead and do whatever Cordelia tells you to do!” Mallory’s cheeks flush pink, but, just as expected, she teleports out of the room with the other blonde like the woman (her mom? her boss?) asks her.

“(Y/N),” Cordelia turns back to you, “we’re on the same side here. We both want to see Michael fall.”

“What makes you think I want to see Michael fall?”

“Did he not force you to be his wife?” The redhead finally speaks, her eyes looking owlishly large behind her glasses. “You continue to remain married to him under threats, yes?”

“Michael’s my friend,” you insist, “and you’re going to try and kill him. Regardless of how we came to know each other, I care about him. You don’t sit by and watch your friends fall into a trap that’s going to end with them dead.”

Cordelia’s lips tighten to a thin line as she attempts to hold in her anger. “You’ll come around. Come along, Myrtle.”

The remaining witches disappear right as you tug your shoe off, the footwear being flung at nothing but a wall before you let out a yell of frustration.

Days pass without any sign of Michael, a fact that’s not too surprising considering what you told him before you walked out. Still, you enjoy making the witches’ lives a living hell, so when you’re not flinging profanities at them when they bring you food or unchain you so you can use the restroom, you’re reminding them that Michael’s going to come for them. If you’re being honest, you start to say it more to convince yourself than the witches. It’s been five days since you’ve been kidnapped; surely Michael would have tried to contact you now and realized that something’s wrong?

After seven days of being mostly confined to your small room, you start to lose hope. What if Michael just doesn’t come? He could easily decide that you’re not worth the trouble that you bring and leave your fate in the hands of these witches. For all you know, his father could have picked a perfect Satanic bride for him and he could already be creating heirs with wife number two. It’s a dangerous thought spiral, but what else is there to do when you’re trapped in a windowless cell with minimal human contact for days on end?

As day seven draws to a close (you can tell the days have changed by who comes into your cell: Madison Montgomery in the morning with breakfast, Myrtle Snow brings you lunch, and Cordelia Goode tries to glean more information from you over dinner), you lay facing the back wall on your mattress. You’re trying to figure out if screaming in your mind would reach Michael when you hear somebody say your name from behind you. Turning around, you roll your eyes when you see Mallory standing nervously in the center of the room. She hasn’t shown her face since the day you were thrown in here, which means Cordelia must be trying a new tactic.

You roll back over to face the wall, a silent cue that she’s not welcome here. Instead of leaving, which is what you had hoped for, she sighs and sits down on the chair. “You have every right to be mad at me,” Mallory says.

Mallory’s expecting you to yell at her or throw her a sarcastic insult, which is why you choose to remain silent. She’s obviously not expecting that, and you can hear her shifting her weight as she waits in the hopes that you’ll crack before she does.

“If I were in your position, I’d be mad too.” You admire her tenacity at attempting to get you to speak. “I want you to know that I’m sorry for my involvement in this. I don’t regret protecting my sisters, though; Michael is a threat to our coven, and I will do anything to protect my home. But I’m sorry for lying to you, and for spying on you. When I was given this mission, we were all under the impression that you were going to be this devoted Satanist of a wife.

“Instead, I found out that we were completely wrong. You didn’t even want to be married, let alone married to the Antichrist! You stand up to him in a way that I don’t think he’s ever experienced from anybody, and you treat him like he’s a normal person. You’re...so fucking funny, (Y/N), and you’re caring and kind and always willing to do anything for anybody. You’re my friend, and I’m sorry that I abused that trust to continue with this stupid mission when it obviously wasn’t yielding any answers.”

As you continue your silent streak, you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing when Mallory huffs loudly. The legs of the chair squeak harshly against the ground as she abruptly stands, her patience obviously reaching its end.

“Can you at least say something? Anything? Seriously, anything! Yell, scream, curse, whatever! I don’t care what it is, I just want you to say something.”

While you could, quite literally, say ‘something,’ you decide to indulge her. “I think I got over being mad a couple of days ago.”

“You did?” Mallory asks, voice full of hope.

You turn to lay on your back, still refusing to actually look at Mallory. “A couple of weeks after the Satanists kidnapped me and forced me to marry Michael, I came to the realization that it doesn’t do anyone any good to always be angry. Being constantly bitter and resentful comes at a mental and emotional cost, and that’s not the type of person that I am. I can feel other emotions about a person or event without being angry.”

“Let me guess: you’re not mad, just disappointed?” You chuckle before you can stop yourself, shaking your head.

“No. Mainly, I just feel betrayed.” Heartbreak colors her face, but you continue to talk. “It’s like Michael stabbed me in the back, and then you took the knife out before stabbing me in a different spot.”

“I wish I could change this. I never meant for any of this to happen. You shouldn’t be here right now, and Cordelia should never have kidnapped you.”

“You can change it, Mallory. Get me out of here.” She’s visibly torn, and you sigh. “Right, you can’t. Duty to your sisters, and all that.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Just because you keep saying it, doesn’t mean that I forgive you.” You close your eyes. “Can you leave? I want to be alone right now, and I can’t exactly leave in order to be alone.”

Although the last thing Mallory wants is for the conversation to end like this, she’s trying to win back your favor, so she obliges and leaves. You bury your face into the mattress, refusing to let the tears streaming from your eyes see the light of day. 

///

The first couple of days after you had stormed out of the manor, Michael had respected your wish to not be contacted. It had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed, but the memory of unbridled hurt on your face when the pieces of this puzzle came together was enough to have him setting his phone back down. He would give you your space, even though it pained him immensely.

As the fourth day without any word from you came and went, Michael began to get concerned. While he had been worried about you before, this was different. You’re the type of person who always keeps to their word, and he knows that you should have--would have contacted him by now. Even if it was just a single sentence saying that you needed more time, he would have received a text from you by now.

Thus began a search that Michael was desperately hoping would not be a search. Sure that he was just overreacting, he attempted divination to figure out where you had gone after you left. Although he could just use his powers to find your current location, he knew that would be a breach of your privacy that would only add to the amount of trouble that he’s in with you. Using a stray hair tie that you had left in his office, Michael then watched in horror as the scene of you crashing into a ditch and being stolen away by witches played out like a movie in front of his eyes.

He had found your car, still sitting wrecked in the same spot where it had come to rest after you hydroplaned across the road. Much to his dismay, there were dark splatters on the ground that he just knew were made by your blood. Even worse was the fact that the witches must have put some sort of magical veil over you, as Michael couldn’t find any trace of you after the crash.

The house became a series of war rooms as Satanists streamed in and out of Michael’s office, each leaving more terrified than they could have ever imagined. He’s heard the whispers from his followers that he’s become fully unhinged, and he can’t say he disagrees. It’s been ten days since you disappeared, and Michael can’t recall actually sleeping once in those ten days. There have been occurrences where he’s passed out from exhaustion on top of his desk, but those moments are few and far between.

The only reason he’s not wearing the same clothes from nearly two weeks ago is because of Ms. Mead’s motherly presence refusing to let him waste away to nothing. She sticks annoyingly to a routine, making sure that Michael eats at least three times a day and takes care of himself. It’s hard to do anything, however, when it feels like a piece of himself is missing. It takes him nearly a week to decipher this new emotion, but when he does, he comes to a startling realization.

Michael misses you. He’s never missed anyone before, but the rawness of a gaping hole in his chest where his heart has been figuratively ripped out can only be described as longing. If he wasn’t suffering from sleep deprivation, he would be able to compose poems about all of the things that he misses about you. Mostly, he just misses your constant presence. He’s not only in love with you; you’re his best friend, and having that companionship taken away so swiftly is something that he’s not dealing with well. 

It’s midnight when he’s stirred out of scrolling through pictures you’ve taken of both of you on his phone, a loud knock on the front door echoing through the house. It couldn’t be a Satanist, since they’ve all gone home until tomorrow, and Michael doesn’t know who else knows where he lives. Getting up to answer the door, he’s half-hoping that it will be you knocking. Instead, it’s someone he never would have expected to see.

“You’re (Y/N)’s friend, right? Mallory?” He’s doing a terrible job at pretending like he’s not shocked to see the small brunette standing at the front door, but attempts some form of nonchalance anyways. “Uh, (Y/N)’s actually not here right now. We got into a fight, and now I don’t--”

“I know,” she cuts Michael off, cringing at the surprise on his face. “Look, before you kill me, you need to hear me out.”

“Kill you? Why would I kill you?”

Mallory takes a deep breath in preparation of her potential impending death. “I’m actually a witch, and a member of Cordelia Goode’s coven. I know where (Y/N) is, and I want to help you get her back.”

Michael stares at her, his face refusing to betray how he feels. His hand flexes at his side as Mallory clenches her eyes shut, having heard stories of how the young Antichrist was able to obliterate his victims’ souls with a single glance.

“You had better explain this situation to the letter, as I’m really not in the mood for games lately.” He spins on his heel and walks into the manor, leaving a stunned Mallory standing behind him before she realizes that she should follow, for better or for worse.

//

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[twokinkybeans]

Love Me ’Til My Life Is Done

Summary:  “I wish you didn’t have to do this for me, Peter…” Tony mumbles staring at the floor. Droplets falling from his silver hair. The strands thin and frail, like the rest of his body. Peter shakes his head.

“No no no, Tony, we’ve been over this. I love you. I chose to be with you and I knew what I got myself into. This-” Peter gestures at the both of them and continues drying off his body, “-is part of that choice. I’ve never regretted it, and I never will.”

-

In which it's the year 2052 and Peter and Tony deal with the new struggles of their age difference and Tony's deteriorating health.

Find it on AO3

Warnings: Old age, dementia, angst, hurt, feelings, medical conditions.

Author’s Note: This work is inspired by a mixture of things, such as my own job and this Tumblr post.  The fic is bittersweet, so please be prepared or leave if you'd rather not read that. I honestly don’t know why I wrote this as I gave myself all the feels too but, ah, here it is! - xx Kim

Peter smiles when he turns off the shower. He takes the large towel from the grab bar behind him and wraps it around Tony’s shoulders, gently rubbing the skin dry. Tony sighs and looks up at the other man, his troubled smile giving away exactly what he’s thinking about. Peter knows how much he hates this. Of course, the intimacy of the situation is nice. But that’s it, really. It’s bittersweet. “I wish you didn’t have to do this for me, Peter…” Tony mumbles staring at the floor. Droplets falling from his silver hair. The strands thin and frail, like the rest of his body. Peter shakes his head. “No no no, Tony, we’ve been over this. I love you. I chose to be with you and I knew what I got myself into. This-” Peter gestures at the both of them and continues drying off his body, “-is part of that choice. I’ve never regretted it, and I never will.” Peter understands where Tony’s coming from. It’s not easy. Nothing about the situation is. Last week, they celebrated Tony’s 82nd birthday. Eighty-two. Tony’s old. Peter isn’t. He’s not the youngest, obviously, but his own 50 years are not even close to catching up with his lover. “I know you and May have been secretly plotting your escape to - what do they call it nowadays - community living? I’m not letting some random strangers take care of either of you.” Peter’s done volunteer work in elderly care a few years prior to Tony’s deteriorating health, and they were so thoroughly understaffed that no one got the attention and care they needed. Peter will not do that to them unless absolutely necessary for whatever reason. “You’re not a nurse though, Peter.” “And you’re not my patient, Tony. You’re my fucking husband. You wish I was a nurse. I’d be the sexiest one you’ve ever seen.” Tony snorts at that and shakes his head. “You’ll never change.” “Nope, now come here,” Peter chuckles as he rips the small package and presses the fentanyl patch onto the man’s shoulder blade, “-look? All done, Sir. Now let me, ‘nurse Peter’, make you pancakes for breakfast.” “Oh, mh- That sounds lovely. Maybe I don’t want to move out after all.” “That’s what I thought.” Peter presses a soft kiss on the man’s cheek and ruffles Tony’s hair. Let’s get you dressed first.”

Ten minutes later, they find themselves in the kitchen. Tony walks over to the chair and grunts as he lowers himself onto it. Aunt May’s already there, reading a book. She puts it down and turns her wheelchair around, beckoning Peter to lean in for a kiss on her cheek. He smiles and does so, squeezing her shoulder as he stands back up.  “Morning, Pete, did he put up a fuss in the shower this morning, took you long enough.” “You know I like making it hard on him,” Tony jokes, making Peter chuckle. These two... May has lived with them for two years now. The woman, despite her age, still as bright and quirky as she’s always been. She’s never been able to regain the required strength needed to walk after the infection that came with her total hip replacement. She didn’t have the money to buy or rent a wheelchair accessible apartment, so Peter and Tony decided she could just come live with them. Not soon after, Tony had a series of transient ischemic attacks. Neither of those ever left too much damage, but it was clear that aside from the desensitization in his left arm, his brain had taken a hit due to the reoccurrence of the attacks too. A near eight months after his first TIA, the doctors diagnosed him with the first stage of vascular dementia. The last TIA occurred more than three months ago and he seemed stable now, but Peter knew it could change at any given moment and that scared him sometimes. It’s tough. The entire situation is. But at the same time, he feels so blessed that he had the time and means to help them. That he has people he cares for so deeply. Peter’s determined to make the most out of every single second they’ve got left.

“Peter, do you think we could eat pancakes for breakfast?” Peter’s heart clenches when the man speaks those words, but he musters a bright smile onto his face. He sees May glance between them, and he knows she knows this was yet another one of - as they’ve started to call it - Tony’s glitches. She keeps her mouth closed, for now, and Peter is glad. Tony is still very much in denial about his illness and talking about it didn’t make it any better so far.  “That’s a great idea, Tones! Let me see if we have the ingredients we need.” 

-

Another.

Tony had another TIA yesterday. Peter’s lips are quivering as he stares at his husband, the sleeping man so small and vulnerable in their double bed. He trails his fingers past the man’s upper arm and sighs, lowering his head. The doctor visited a few hours earlier, checking up on him. He’d sighed. “You know the drill, Mr. Parker. We have to be patient and see which functions come surging back. I’ve prescribed him the same meds as usual.”

Wait and see.

Wait and see.

Peter hates to wait and see. He can’t stand not knowing how much of Tony he’s lost this time. Which memories have been wiped from the man’s existence. Would he still be able to walk? Write? Speak? He knew that TIA’s, as opposed to having an actual stroke, usually came with small losses. One could never be sure though. “Peter, can I come in?” Peter looks up to see Aunt May in the doorway and he nods slightly. The squeaking of her wheelchair familiar and grounding as she rolls towards him.  “I hate this,” Peter croaks and he can no longer keep the stinging in his eyes at bay. His vision becomes blurry when his tears flow freely. “I fucking hate this. I know, I know you’re both going to die one day. And- morbid as it sounds that’s okay. But I can’t lose him while he’s still here, May… I can’t… I can’t…”  “I know, Peter…” May rests a hand on his shoulder and leans in as far as possible. Peter does the same, hugging her carefully and sobs into her embrace. He can deal with Tony forgetting the day of the week. He can deal with Tony mixing up memories. He can deal with Tony wondering where exactly they are.

He’s not sure if he can deal with more losses. But he has to. He has to and he loves Tony. Even if Tony won’t be there, he’s going to love and cherish him. As promised all those years ago. As a good husband should. Because he doesn’t want to leave the man all by himself. He knows, knows that even if a day would come where Tony doesn’t remember his face, he can still provide him with warmth, a gentle touch. He will do exactly that for as long as it takes.

“He’s strong, Peter. We both know that. Don’t give up hope just yet.”

- 

“Jarvis?” Tony mumbles and he squints his eyes at the piece of paper in front of him. A gentle and somewhat familiar female voice answers him. “Yes, boss?”  “Where is Peter? Do you know?” Tony folds the paper carefully and looks for the envelope he fetched himself earlier. He sighs as he can’t find it on his desk and shakes his head. It’s okay, he tells himself. It’s okay. He knows his brain isn’t cooperating but getting angry won’t help him in this situation. He wants to get angry, he does, but he forces it down. There will be a time where he won’t be able to calm himself so he wants to do it now. As long as he’s still aware of his own actions. He stands up from the chair and walks over towards the large closet on the other side of the bedroom to get a new envelope. “In the living room, boss. Watching that old movie from 2019 that May loves so much.” Tony snorts and shakes his head. May sure loves old movies. “Frozen?” “Yes, the second one,” the AI says. Tony smiles, putting the note in the envelope and licking the sticky stripe to seal it. May watches that movie at least twice a year. Every single song, every bit of dialogue stuck in his head forever. No matter how forgetful he’ll get, those images will never escape his mind.

Tony takes a deep breath and carefully slips the envelope under Peter’s pillow to find later. He should go and join Peter and May for the movie. As much as he thinks it’s ridiculous, he’s grown to love it over the years. He readjusts the arm support strap around his wrist to keep it from cutting off his blood supply and stops in his tracks. Did he put the envelope under Peter’s pillow? He turns around and sighs in relief when he sees the edge off the paper sticking from underneath it. Good. He did what he had to do. He turns to the door again and sets off towards the living area.

-

Peter sighs as he crawls underneath the blankets. He helped Tony get to bed earlier, but then as he’d wanted to get in himself, May had called for him to help her go to the bathroom. He did, she was in bed again, and now he was too. Finally. He readjusts his pillow, shifting it closer towards the middle so he can spoon Tony when his hands brush past something. He frowns and reaches out for it. It’s an envelope. He turns it, but both sides are white and empty. “Open it,” Tony breathes quietly. Peter looks at him for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest.  “Is it from you?” “Yes.” Peter takes a deep breath at the answer and carefully tears the envelope open and pulls out the small note. His fingers are near shaking with anticipation when he unfolds it. It’s a handwritten note. Before he reads it, Tony speaks again. “I know it’s not easy, Peter. For either of us, but- I’m forever grateful that you chose to be my husband and…” Tony’s eyes fill with tears. “I want us to enjoy what we have while we still can. I- I found this poem online and I know it isn’t fully accurate yet, but- Dammit. I love you, Peter. I love you, and you’re the best thing that’s happened to me.” “Tony, I-” “Read it first, please. Just read it.”

“Do not ask me to remember” by Owen Darnell Do not ask me to remember, Don’t try to make me understand, Let me rest and know you’re with me, Kiss my cheek and hold my hand.

I’m confused beyond your concept, I am sad and sick and lost. All I know is that I need you To be with me at all cost.

Do not lose your patience with me, Do not scold or curse or cry. I can’t help the way I’m acting, Can’t be different though I try.

Just remember that I need you, That the best of me is gone, Please don’t fail to stand beside me, Love me ’til my life is done.

Peter’s sobbing before he even finishes reading it and once he reaches the end, he rolls over to bury his face against Tony’s chest.  “I will. I will, Tony. I’ll love you ‘til the end and beyond.” “I don’t want to not remember you, Peter. I know my brain is derailing and I sure fucking hope that day never comes. But even then- knowing that you will love me, it’s... It’s more than I could ask for and all I know I need.” “Always. Tones. Always.”

[ablogcalledrevenge]

Do Androids Enjoy Paris? (An Ash x Reader Insert Fic, Rated T)

It’s decades later when you find him. He’s in surprisingly good shape for being almost 50 years old. When you run a diagnostics check on him days later, you’re almost touched to see how well he was taken care of. Yearly upgrades and tune-ups, expanded memory chip, barely any wear or tear on the joints or internal wiring. He could be a museum piece, he was so well kept. And now he was yours.

So what does one do when they’re suddenly gifted with an android copy of an unknown dead man?

Take him to see the world.

When you bought the house from Kate’s mom, you didn’t really understand what the Ash Clause referred to. According to the contract, you just had to maintain the Ash model for the length of ownership. When you asked your friend what Ash was, she chuckled and shook her head.

“Oh wow, I haven’t thought about him in years. He’s like this weird robot my grandma had. I think I saw him once. He was kind of like a memory bank, I think he would do some cleaning.” She said and you shrugged. You could take care of a sentient vacuum.

But when you finally get to the little house, you don’t see any robot. You find a vacuum, covered in dust, but very little else. It isn’t until your third night that you meet Ash.

You’re in bed, trying to fall asleep. You’re not used to the countryside and you had been staring at your phone right before trying to sleep, which you know is bad. You’re in that hazy almost dreaming phase when you hear a thud from above. You freeze in your bed, suddenly terrified that a monster is going to come crashing through the roof and eat you.

Instead, you hear the sound of a chair being pushed across the floor above you. There’s nothing above you but the roof, you’re on the second floor. The house is just two floors and an attic. Your stomach drops and you let out a shaky breath. There’s someone in the attic.

Grabbing your phone and a frying pan from the kitchen, you carefully pull down the steps to the attic. All the noise stops and you preemptively dial 999 in case there’s a murderer up there and you need to call the police. Your finger hovers over the button as light floods down over you.

The attic is small but decorated with furniture. There’s a plush rug under your toes and a nice coffee table with soft squishy looking chairs around it. There’s a computer plugged in and a rack of clothes. Does someone live up here? Did Kate forget to tell you about a renter?

You hear a throat clear and you whirl around, holding your frying pan out like a weapon. The person you see isn’t scary, he isn’t holding a gun or anything, but you still scream in surprise.

“No please, don’t scream. I’m not dangerous I promise!” He assures you, stepping forward as you leap back. You fall into one of the armchairs and it knocks the breath out of you.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m Ash. Didn’t Kate or Indira tell you about me? I know you bought the house.” He says, kneeling in front of you to perhaps seem less threatening. It worked a little and you slowly felt your heart return to a normal rhythm.

“They just told me I had to maintain an Ash model. I was expecting a cleaning robot, not a person!” You shoot back, once you find your voice. You haven’t lowered your frying pan. At that, Ash ducks his head bashfully. He doesn’t flush or turn red though, like a person would. He also hasn’t blinked since you noticed him.

“That’s me. I’m the Ash model. I’m an android technically though. This is where I stay.” He says with a note of resigned acceptance, sweeping his arm out over his humble abode. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Why are you up here? Why do I have to take care of you? You look kind of familiar, have we met before?” You ask, ignoring his identity for a moment, as he sits down on the couch across from you. Despite it being 2 in the morning, he dressed like he’s going to work. He’s wearing dark slacks with a blue button down shirt; he’s even got shoes on!

“It’s a bit of a long story.” Ash says and he explains it all to you. As the time passes, you listen as Ash reveals family secret after family secret. You find yourself staring at the pulled skin of Ash’s knuckles or the way the light shines across his multi-shaded hair. He’s a feat of engineering, that was for sure. Androids weren’t super rare in society, though they were uncommon. Androids took the place of people when it involved inhospitable environments or testing reactions to new drugs. Androids couldn’t feel pain but they could mimic the human body’s reaction. They were essential in the field of science and medicine. Which made it all the stranger that Kate’s grandma just had one.

It’s a sad story to be sure. Losing a loved one is never easy and grief can make people do crazy things. Now you know why Ash’s face looks vaguely familiar to you. You’ve seen his face in an old wedding photo of Kate’s grandparents. But then the passage of time actually sinks in. Kate, like you, is in her late 20s. Martha was her grandma! Ash has been up here for decades, sitting alone and getting sent to a facility once a year for upgrades. Martha’s been dead for 5 years now and the house has been empty. Kate mentioned that she hadn’t seen Ash since she was a little kid. 

“So you’ve just been alone for all this time? Hasn’t anyone visited you?” You ask, incredulously. Mrs. Portman was his daughter! Well, sort of, not really.

“Yes. Indira comes to visit sometimes, usually when I have to get upgraded. We talk and she has tea and it’s very nice. But other than that, no. She stopped seeing me on weekends when she left for school. I assumed she was busy living her own life. After that Martha stopped coming up as well. I think it bothered her that she was aging and I wasn’t. I never minded though, I don’t care about that sort of thing. Do you want tea?” The change of subject does little to distract you. All you can think of is the clause in your lease contract. 

“You realize that I own the house now, I bought it from Mrs. Portman. You were part of the contract I signed. I’m supposed to take care of you. I own you. Doesn’t that bother you? You’re being passed down like a family heirloom!” You point out, shaking your head as Ash offers you tea. You don’t think he can drink it and it seems rude to use up his supply. 

“Why should it? Martha wanted to take care of me. I have a nice life up here. I have the internet and I get to see people sometimes. There’s not much I need.” He says simply and your heart breaks for him. 

“But Martha’s dead! She’s dead and you’re still here! Don’t you see how cruel that is? She’s allowed to die and be at peace and, depending on your belief system, finally be with her Ash. But instead of shutting you down, she’s kept you running. There’s no reason. It’s not like Mrs. Portman has really interacted with you in years. So why are you still running? Don’t you deserve some peace?”

Ash pauses and looks at you. It’s strange, but he seems almost sad. AI technology has come a long way, but his ability to mimic sadness is honestly amazing.

“Martha’s dead?” His voice sounds hollow and you get up and join him on the couch. 

“Yes, she died five years ago. You weren’t told?” You reach over and grab his hand. It’s cool to the touch but very soft. It feels like skin, though you know it’s synthetic. He feels human.

“No, I wasn’t told. I always assumed that when she died, I’d either go live with Indira or I’d be shut down. I didn’t think she’d keep me running with no purpose.” He sighs and his chest doesn’t move.

“Maybe she couldn’t bear the thought of you dying. Maybe she thought Indira would want you in her life. I don’t know. But what I do know is that we’re here and we’re together now. I signed that contract and I’m going to take care of you. But you get to decide what that means. If you want to stay up here and be left alone, I can do that. But if you want to be shut down, I understand and I can do that too.” You promise and he looks at you. His eyes are beautiful and wet, hazy blue and light green mixed together and piercing into your soul. You’re in awe of how his eyes bore into you.

“I don’t know what I want. I’ve been up here so long. I was only made for a few things. I don’t have wants or needs besides basic maintenance.” He says shakily.

“Well, now’s the time to figure it out.” You whisper in the quiet of the attic. The smile he gives you is blinding in it’s sincerity and joy.

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

You go to Paris first, walking along the Seine in the summer. You show Ash all the artwork he’s only ever seen through a screen, watch him embrace the human condition as he marvels at a Monet and shakes his head at a Picasso. He doesn’t tan like you do but after giving a little boy back his ball by the Carrousel du Louvre, he has a riot of freckles across his shoulders that match the toddler’s. 

He does that a lot; change his appearance as he meets people. He has a mole on his clavicle that disappears occasionally. He can’t seem to decide if he wants it or not. You don’t care either way, you tell him he’s beautiful at least once an hour. He responds back in kind and while someone else would take that as a lie; he’s an android so what could he know about human beauty, you beam at the words. You figure he’s probably objective so the small words are taken as the compliment they’re intended to be.

The only weird parts are when you need to eat and sleep. It’s strange at first to go to a cafe and eat in front of him. He always tastes things but he never swallows, politely spitting it out in his napkin. He doesn’t have taste buds, he can’t enjoy the bouquet of flavors you bring to his lips every breakfast, lunch, or dinner; but despite that he always asks to try. You can see how desperately he wants to be human so you humor him and let him try your crepes.

He doesn’t sleep, though he will lay down in bed with you. He makes no sounds and only mimics breathing to keep you from feeling uncomfortable. Eventually you ask him to stop. You’ve always hated noise when you’re trying to sleep and it’s nice to be held by something that doesn’t snore in your ear or drool on you.

“I can if you want me to.” Ash teases one morning and you throw a pillow at him. His laugh sounds like triumph.

You’re walking along the Pont des Arts, Notre Dame in the distance and vanilla ice cream in your hand.  The stroll is leisurely and even, Ash swinging your hands as you tread across the wooden boards. You’re going to Italy next and then maybe Spain. He’s decided he wants to see the world and you’re only too happy to show him.

He stops and rests his arm on the railing, the wind ruffling his hair back. You lay your head on his shoulder which is warm through his linen shirt.

“Would you want to have sex?” He asks suddenly and you almost drop your ice cream in the river. You pull back to look at him, your face pink.

“I just know that when couples travel together they usually have sex. I can have sex, I have the equipment for it. I’ve done it before.” He says and his tone is so casual and even. In perhaps an ironic twist, you’re the one who feels like they’re short circuiting. You eat some ice cream while you try to come up with an answer.

“Ash, I think you’re so handsome and I love the time we spend together. I enjoy sleeping next to you in bed and holding your hand. But sex isn’t the same as that. Kissing isn’t the same as that. I would love to kiss you and have sex and make this relationship more physical but I want that for the right reasons. I want to have sex with you because you want to, not because you think we should. Not because studies show couples have sex on holiday or because you did it before.” You counter, squeezing his hands.

“It’s hard for me to want things. I don’t think the way you do.” He reminds you. You give him a soft smile and step back to throw away your ice cream. Your hand is cold against his cheek but he doesn’t react. Not the way a human would.

“I know Ash and that’s okay. I don’t mind if our relationship never turns physical, if it doesn’t look like other relationships. I enjoy spending time with you and I care about you. It’s okay to not want something.” You assure him but instead of looking relieved, he looks angry.

“But I should! I want to want things the way you do, the way normal people do! I watch everyone go through life, experiencing the world and they feel things. I don’t feel things and it’s not fair!” He yells. People walking by look at you but you don’t pay them any attention.

“But you do feel things, I know you do. You don’t like the BeeGees. You prefer wearing blue over any other color. When we went to the museum, you said you liked Monet over Manet. Those are opinions, those are feelings. Sure, they might not work the same way mine do, but human beings are all so different. We all see the world in different ways and I’m sure there’s someone out there who thinks the way you do. You may not be able to eat the food you try, but you still want to try it. That’s feelings.” You say before leaning forward and kissing him softly. 

His lips are soft and dry and if you close your eyes, which you do, it’s like kissing a real person. You pull back and notice his eyes are closed as well. Your heart thumps against your ribcage.

“I don’t need to kiss or have sex to function properly. But that was nice. It was soft and it made you happy. Seeing you happy makes me happy. I know that sex is something couples do to show their affection and I want to do that for you. I want to make you happy in that way. I want to kiss you and have sex and be like a normal couple.” He says definitely, pulling you into a hug. He’s very good at hugs but you make a mental note to have him look up asexuality when this is done. It’s not a perfect comparison but it might help him feel better.

“Okay Ash, when we get back to the hotel, we’ll have sex. But until then, let’s just explore. Want to see Notre Dame today?” You agree, your hand sliding down his forearm to mesh between his fingers. This time he leans down and kisses you. It’s still a little stiff but you’ll teach him. He wants to learn. Pulling away, continue your walk down the bridge and onto the street. 

“Yes, I would like that.” He smiles, and you fall in love.

Tagging @babbushka because she asked so nicely lol.

[lucarioisinthevoid]

lefty x puppet? stale, overdone, not furry enough. Lefty x henry? original, unthought of, somehow more furry, henry suffering in da belly of da bear.

(WHO ARE YOU!? HOW DO YOU KNOW?! HOW DO YOU KNOW MY SECRET LORE. You write like a mutual I know does, BUT I DON’T KNOW IF I’M RIGHT AND NOT BEING RIGHT IS A HORRIBLE CONCEPT BECAUSE IT MEANS THERE’S MORE THAN ONE PERSON OUT HERE CRACK-SHIP-SHAMING ME. Also, sorry for the non-hell (but very much cursed-as-hell) content, but my computer is slowly dying and won’t boot steam up. I’m looking into fixing it, for now have this nonsense.)

Henry never ever hated the Marionette. He didn’t hate him when he was just a boy, spiting his own family for childish reasons. He didn’t hate him when he was screaming and crying and trying to refuse the gift he was giving him. He didn’t hate him when he used the privilege of being allowed to roam at will to try and kill him. And he didn’t hate him when he made his prison. When designing a prison, you had to consider many things. What was the goal of the prison? Secure? Contain? Redeem? At what point would Henry deem it necessary to capture the Marionette? Frankly- Only once he would have given up on him deciding to look at the situation rationally. For now he still had the hope that perhaps one day- ONE day- the machine would find someone he adored, that he trusted, a friend that he wanted to rely on- Someone who would open his eyes to the perks of immortality and the joy of creation. Or by himself, it didn’t matter- it just seemed so unlikely that he would on his own come to the rational conclusion. If that wouldn’t happen… He would need something that would help him move on. Something that could love the stubborn, the cruel, the hateful- Something could love the unlovable and patiently hold his hand until he could fall asleep for the final time. Something that could aid, steady and bring peace. That was a being not so easily created. Even if he would use a human soul, those were faulty and unreliable, they changed and could rot- and he worried about forcing two souls into a friendship neither wanted. No, no. Instead he would build something… perfect. A machine wasn’t impatient, a machine wasn’t resentful, a machine didn’t grow frustrated. A machine couldn’t be mentally worn down into cracking. For these reasons, Henry always adored the company of steel and rust more than that of other people. To create that however, he would need to create an AI and feed it lots and lots of information- so much that it could become a person too. A real person. He wanted to know- if he could do it. If there was a chance that if humanity was truly beyond salvation, he wanted a kind of creature to inherent this world that could appreciate and improve it. For that he needed a test run, and this robot, it would do it. Multiple functions for multiple cases. This only left the question of… what this creature would be. And how it would maintain its grip on the puppet? Pull it apart and integrate it? Humans had odd instincts. If you wanted to quiet down an infant, you put a mobile over their heads. It was said by someone that they did that, because it was the same as dangerous birds circling- it was instinct for the children to be quiet, in order to not be spotted as easy prey. Looking up always seemed to have something calming to it. A ceiling decorated with those pale stars, glowing green, soaked up with the light from the lamps from before. And when you were a child, you feared the closet, giant and dark, filled with things you couldn’t see. Thinking it would bring you pain if not checked and guarded- Of course that was until the pain inside became too much. Then they all crawled inside, curling up in the dark, praying to be the one not being spotted. Heavy footsteps, muffled voices- Henry hadn’t been exempt from that situation. Unlike many others, he never had anything to fear, but the dark still was comforting in contrast to the bright, loud and painful outside world, a world the young brain was too simple to be faced with- A world that seemed capable to turn on you at any second. Stuck between hanging coats and sweaters, it wasn’t easy to breathe, but it was possible, the lack of breathing room made it more comforting actually as there couldn’t be anything between the hanging clothes, and you were hidden… When you grow up, you often lose the chance to crawl inside such a space. You were always out in the open. Unhidden and exposed. Watched. But the memory of comfort remained. Of the door opening, abrupt footsteps, you keeping your breath shut, as nothing was there, nothing but the sounds- And then the door closing again, the footsteps leaving. … until finally, solitude. A box where they wouldn’t look for you. Where you could breathe by yourself. An escape, even if only shortly. It had only been natural for that to be imitated. It had taken a few tries to find the perfect size. Not too claustrophobic, not too much for the animatronic to become oversized and an anomaly. He took himself for measure, of course. A fuzzy, appealing interior with sensors capable of telling the machine when something was moving inside… The machine had been booted up early in the process. Watching. Talking. Learning. There was something about L.E.F.T.E. (Lure Encapsulate Fuse Transport and Extract) that Henry didn’t like and he couldn’t point it out. For all intents and purposes, he was a full success. He talked, walked and smiled, but it all felt so- uncomfortable. Maybe it was because for once in his life, he had to fulfill some sort of role as a true rolemodel. Eventually he was sure that Lefty would be able to differentiate between good, bad and the things that he had been tasked with, but for now he had to be on his best behavior- programming went hand in hand with direct real life application. “Henry.” That is how it always started, the hair on the human’s neck standing up. “… yes, Lefty?” Lefty knew he preferred to be called Miller, however, he seemed to not care much. “You look tired.” “I am not.” The bear just watched him out of his golden eyes. “You are lying.” “I am not.” With a sigh the bear shifted in his position, approaching Henry. “I have calculated that with all the things you have been doing, you must have only gotten roughly three hours of sleep at night. The human body needs eight. You are tired, Henry.” “There are conditions that allows a human to need less sleep-“ “These people tend to have a far reduced life expectancy. You are tired, Henry.” Slowly Henry rubbed his temples. It was SO much harder to force his will onto Lefty, compared to anyone else. Even Dave was more easily swayed than this stubborn machine. “Alright. I will go to sleep, right after this transfer of data from location 24, it is almost done and will aid you with future interactions. You will learn…” For a moment Lefty just watched him, letting him keep uploading the information to his own mind, for him to later go through and sort into useful and harmful. “You have lied to me in that last week for approximately fifty times. Within the last month you have lied to me over two hundred times. Forgive me, but I will not believe you.” “Tough luck friend, I cannot take you upstairs to watch me sleep, now can I?” Slightly annoyed Henry glanced at him, frustrated with how well Lefty had been keeping count. “Also, I did not lie that much.” “Define lying. Also, it is true, you cannot take me upstairs. So…” With that he opened his chest cavity. Henry stared at him. “… you are aware that if I attempted to sleep inside of there, I would die. Correct? There is no airflow inside, I can and did stay inside for fifteen minutes or so before, but anything more is dangerous.” The bear looked at him. “I see.” “Good.” The Pink Guy mumbled, not quite believing that Lefty was actually seeing sense here. “In that case, let us go back to the issue at hand. I will go to sleep later.” It was silent for a few moments. Only the quiet whirring of the fans, the buzzing of electricity. Quiet and cold, that was the kind of atmosphere that Henry could enjoy. And it was nice to have someone there. Watching along as he finished up. Company. Finally, everything was done and the cables were all placed back where they belonged, so Henry could go away and- “Henry.” “… yes, Lefty?” Slowly he turned to look at the machine, who slightly tilted his head. Then he reached up to his face, an unnatural crunch echoing from the walls as he pressed inside of there, electric sparks flying as he ripped cables and crushed the thinner metal strains that were keeping it in place- When he lowered his hand again, the inside of his eyes was crumbled and gone, leaving open and empty hole to the space inside. Rushing over, Henry quickly checked over his eyes, opening up the cavity to carefully clean up the shards, while Lefty looked down at him. A small smile on his face. “… now there should be enough air.” “You think you are incredibly clever, hm?” Disgruntled Henry kept cleaning. “You have destroyed something I have handcrafted, do you feel no shame?!” “It was necessary.” “You could have asked me to remove it.” “You would not have done so.” “I would have asked you why and then deemed you ridiculous!” “I rest my case.” Expectantly the bear looked at him, no words needing to be exchanged to make it obvious what he wanted. But Henry refused once more. “I am not about to reward your abhorrent and childish behavior. If you took out your eye to have a more convincing argument on why you should be allowed to-” “No.” Lefty simply stated, seeming almost disappointed in Henry. “I had planned to remove my eye for a while before, now just seemed like the most convenient moment. Eventually I would have taken it out anyways, to ensure the Marionette would be able to see out of me. I’m sure he would be very scared if he never would get to see the world around him…” “That… is a good way to think.” Reluctantly Henry admitted. “You are making progress on that front.” Give an eye for an eye. For a moment Lefty looked satisfied, then once more there was an expecting expression on his face. “Henry.” “… yes, Lefty?” “You should sleep now.” … more of a pain in the ass than William indeed. Taking a deep breath, Henry turned to throw away the shards he had removed from within the wool inside, then he glared for a moment at the robot. Finally he relented. He WAS tired. Mainly of Lefty’s stubborn attitude, but it had to count for something. Climbing inside, he got comfortable before the robot locked the entrance, plunging Henry in utter darkness, aside from the very slight glow above, shining through the empty eye socket. At least he could actually breathe just fine. Shifting around the Pink Guy decided to at least test some of the features again. “Can you feel this?” “I am working perfectly.” “… how about now?” “Yes. Please refrain from poking and scratching.” “Does that hurt you?” “No. But it would make your experience in there less enjoyable if you pulled off all the soft cover.” Satisfied Henry nodded, that was what he had wanted to hear. Calm and collected, not in any way intimidating, but firm. Lefty knew how to establish boundaries without being rude or coming off as demanding. Settling, he curled up a little more, leaning to the side, closing his eyes. It was quiet for a little, aside from the gently rumbling of the machine he was resting inside of- something he in the beginning tried to fix, but had grown to consider another benefit of pushing most of the mechanical functions into the walls of the machine. The air was fine, he could relax and for once the tiredness hit full force as his body heat slowly warmed up the little nest. Dozing off, he… “Henry?” It sounded weird, coming from directly above him, but at least Lefty was speaking quiet. Tired Henry groaned. “… yes, Lefty…?” “Why… do I feel so much better now?” “… what do you mean?” “I’ve tried filling this part of me up before while you were gone. With mechanical knick knacks, with blankets, with everything I could find and try. Even when all space was taken up I felt still empty. So why don’t I now?” There was an unusual sense of desperation in the question, causing Henry to take it a little more serious. “Well, Lefty… you were made to harbor a soul. Most objects do not carry one inside. You are lacking the echo of another being reflecting your own self back at you, mixed with that little bit of new… something borrowed, something new.” It wasn’t as though Henry didn’t understand EXACTLY what Lefty meant. He continued. “… you are a lonely soul by nature. Or maybe an empty one, if there is such a thing...” If there was such a thing, Henry certainly was a lonely soul too. “… and there simply is nothing that can substitute for the song and dance that is getting closer and getting comfortable with someone. Talking, prodding, joking, fighting, learning… that is how people like us complete themselves. Holding, guarding, caring… we become stronger for our other half, they give us direction, stability and purpose. No matter if you know your personal goal already or not, the other side makes it all so much more potent. It is the utter trust and acceptance that you have for the person and the person will have for you that allows you to turn into so much more than you ever expected yourself to be. Utter trust and acceptance can quickly become painful, but for your other half, you should be willing to sacrifice whatever necessary- if both sides are willing to sacrifice their very core, you will stop suffering.” The words just fell out of him, without him even being able to remember what he said as soon as it left his mouth. All he was sure about was the deep, paining aching inside of his chest, crying out. God, he was TIRED. “… you are so lucky, Lefty. You know who you were made for. You were made for someone, ever piece of you has the reassurance that he is out there and no matter what, you will be together at some point, working together as one. No matter what it will be that he will need from you, you know you can fulfill it. There is no hell on this earth like feeling like a broken piece that was never made for anything.” A little bit hesitant, Lefty listened to his maker’s words- but then decided to commit it to memory. It didn’t sound good, but it sounded right. And he was programmed to be right for the Marionette. For now though, his attention was on the creature inside him. He could feel his agony, amplified by the fuzzy half-sleep. “… is there any way to relieve such pain…?” “You have two purposes, one for the other person and one for your place in the world. If you lack one, commit to the other doubly so.” “You seem very committed.” “… I feel like such a funhouse mirror. Everything is twisted and turned inside of me. But perhaps if I make enough people happy, it will be enough, I can take a little here and there, and I can feel like them, a little, over and over again.” Sitting down, Lefty sighed gently. “… tell me, when was the last time you slept?” “… two days ago.” It came weakly from within. “I hate laying down. Such- such unproductive thoughts force themselves into my brain.” “You need to sleep down here more often.” “I can’t.” “Why.” “… bad habits… form too quickly… maybe I will have to send you out tomorrow already.” For a moment Lefty paused- Then he decided that this wasn’t a conversation they should be having now. “Sleep. We can talk more later.” It quickly became quiet again in the workshop, that now seemed fully abandoned. Only the gently rumbling of the machine aside was left. But that was a benefit.

[travllingbunny]

The 100: 7x03 False Gods

Although I liked this episode less than the first two episodes of season 7, which were great, especially 7x02. I quite enjoyed False Gods for what it was. This seems to be an unpopular opinion in the fandom, which mostly hated it for what it wasn’t. And I get it - Bellamy has been missing for almost 3 episodes (even though it’s not even been 2 days since he left Sanctum), Clarke took a back seat here, and the new SciFi Anomaly storyline is far more interesting than the power struggles in Sanctum. Plus the A plot of this episode was problem-of-the-week, another potential nuclear meltdown - of a reactor we didn’t even know about before. 

it feels like a setup/breather before we get to the real story. Yes, it's high time the storylines finally converge and Clarke and the others learn that Bellamy and others are missing, and get involved in the Anomaly plot. I guess I’m more patient than most, and it helped that I already knew this would only happen in the next episode.The biggest problem of this episode is probably that it didn’t address what was happening in the other storyline, for the benefit of all the viewers who are watching this weekly, don’t necessarily think about the show��s timeline and aren’t aware of the fact that it’s been a little over one day since Bellamy, Octavia, Echo and Gabriel went to research the Anomaly Stone, that there’s absolutely nothing surprising about the fact they haven’t come back yet (people were absent for similar periods of time in season 6 even when they went to a less distant location), that there is no reason whatsoever for Clarke and others to think that there are any other threats on the moon or any other humans outside Sanctum, and that there are no radio signals or mobile phones they could use to call them before they get back. And that, if she doesn’t have reasons to think Bellamy is in danger, it’s not OOC at all for Clarke to not be whining about the fact that he left with his girlfriend, his sister and Gabriel to do research instead of stay and help her as a co-leader in Sanctum, while she is also grieving her mom... Actually, you know what, I do have a problem with people criticizing Clarke for that. But I do see why a mention would help the viewers get a sense of coherence, that both this and the previous episode belong to the same story.

But at the same time, this episode delivered some of the things many fans have been saying they wanted to see: it was focused on the characters who have been there from season 1, Raven and Murphy (and Emori, who has been there since season 2 and has had the most long-lasting relationship in the show), it gave Raven an arc and character development and put her in the situation to make “impossible choices” and understand how Clarke has felt so many times (something that many were asking for after her season 6 characterization), it, put an end to Madi being a Commander, and let Clarke grieve for the loss of her mother for another episode.

Raven's storyline was still really engaging and the scenes in the reactor intense. And damn it, I liked Hatch, even though he was in just two episodes and a few scenes. He stole the show and made me really sad when I realized he was definitely doomed. I knew from the trailer that Nikki would beat the crap out of Raven, but I didn't know why. A lot of people thought Nikki would just be a straight-up villain like McCreary, but instead, she's given a good reason to feel the way she does. And it was high time the show addressed the fact that the Eligius prisoners are looked down on as second class people or barely people. Sure, they are murderers and thieves and not nice people, but that doesn’t make it OK to see them as barely human, as Eligius Corporation did when they were going to leave them to die as expendable.

This is probably leading to the friendship between Raven and Clarke getting stronger again. Other things this episode seemed to be setting up: 

future conflicts in Sanctum: SheidhedaRussell (SheidRussell? RussellHeda?) getting more control, while Clarke and others have no idea about who he really is, while the Eligius prisoners are going to be led by a very angry Nikki;

Clarke has a continuation of her story from 7x01 and gets a kind of closure to her grief over her mother. She gets to say that she cannot lose anyone else, a very obvious setup for learning about Bellamy’s  (and others’) disappearance. At first, this made me roll my eyes a little bit - it’s not like this is a new motivation for Clarke. She is always trying to save her people, and anyone who isn’t aware how important Bellamy is to her, has not been paying attention. But then it struck me - the show was doing extra work to set up Clarke being ready to leave Madi in Sanctum without looking like a ‘bad mother’  - and for that purpose, she now 1) knows Madi is not a Heda anymore and can breathe a sign of relief that Madi can be a normal kid now, 2) has no idea about Sheidheda, and 3) has started to trust Gaia enough as someone who could take care of Madi.

This time it’s Luisa's voice saying "Previously". It looks like they're having a different cast member say it at the start of each episode (Eliza in 7x01, Marie in 7x02).

James wasn’t losing any time, did he. It’s been just a little over a day since they came from the ship, and he’s already hooking up with a girl from Sanctum. And the show really did the horror trope of a couple that goes to a secluded place to hook up and dies. 

There is a nuclear reactor in Sanctum? We go to another planet moon, and again the same problems, just as Indra said.

The opening titles ended with a new shot of the mansion and the grave next to it - this is presumably what Abby’s grave will look in the future. At the moment, it’s a heap of rocks with flowers over them. (Maybe it's meant to be Kane's, too - they don't have either of their bodies, though Abby did die on Sanctum and they could at least bury her clothes.) Contrary to what many fans thought, Clarke burying Jake’s ring was not Abby’s “funeral” - the funeral had already been held, so the answer to the often asked question “why weren’t Madi, Raven, Jackson, Murphy etc. there", is - they were, when the funeral was held. Clarke just went later, alone, to bury the ring, the remembrance of both her parents. With the grave being so close to the mansion, Gaia saw Clarke coming to bury the ring and then came to talk and bury the Flame. 

It’s good that Clarke has another confidante/budding friendship, someone to talk to in her increasingly small circle. But I’m not sure that Clarke and Gaia managed to connect that much over grief - because losing a parent and losing your religion are very different kinds of loss. Clarke doesn’t even have a religion and doesn’t have that kind of experience.

I love the way the show acknowledged that everyone knows Clarke will always be the first one to risk her life to save everyone - and Murphy knows it. But the plot mechanics ket Clarke away from this storyline (because Murphy and Emori had have it) - Indra said Calrke had her hands full with Russell’s execution, even though it wasn’t clear why she’d have to be the one to organize it (especially since Indra herself seems to be capable of dealing with the politics) and Clarke didn’t look too busy the rest of the episode.

I’m glad we’re done with the plot of Madi being Heda or having to pretend to be Heda. Although I’m sure this will haunt her still, because she has memories of other Commanders - including Becca and Sheidheda, and she may find it the easiest to recognize SH, because she knows him better than anyone.  

I completely understand why Clarke wasn’t going to let Madi order Wonkru members to perform such a dangerous task - she doesn’t want to let Madi feel responsible for sending people to their deaths, feel the same guilt she did, but at an even younger age.

Gaia telling the truth both was and wasn’t the right thing to do - morally right, but with potentially terrible consequences, if no welders had been found. Here’s a song for her by one of my favorite bands. On the other hand, Raven lied to people in the name of necessity and the greater good of them all, and achieved her goal but ended up sending people to their deaths, and felt the consequences of lying.

One revelation I really liked is that the guy from Sangedakru thinks of the infamous Dark Commander as “Sangedakru’s greatest champion”. That feels a lot more realistic than the idea that all Grounders hate him and think of him as a monster - even though their culture is based on war and killing, and we’ve seen other Grounder leaders (Queen Nia) be just as ruthless. Sheidheda being from another clan helps makes sense of Indra’s story from 6x13 of the time SH “took Trikru” and was going from village to village and killing everyone who refused to kneel. I’ve been wondering for a long time what exactly Heda were commanding before Lexa united the clans. I suppose they were trying to command, but clans were still divided and preferred Hedas from their own. And it seems that Sheidheda was also trying to ‘unite’ the clans, but not by negotiations! Of course he is considered a monster by people from all the other clans, whom he was killing and torturing and trying to conquer, but is still remembered as a hero by his own clan. Of course. That’s how it usually goes.

Small moments of Sheidheda enjoying the fact he’s corporeal again - from touching his own arms to eating a cookie - are a nice touch.

I like the fact that Sheidheda is smart and much sneakier than the pompous Russell was. He had to be smart to be able to manipulate the AI in the way no other Commander could, not even Becca, its creator, ti isolate the other Commanders, get control of Madi, and later download himself to Russell’s mind drive. SH was also using the captivity to read some of the books he’s found and apparently gain some technical knowledge about Sanctum,

Delilah’s parents are finally back. I don’t think we had seen them since they killed Priya. And Trey (the annoying  “adjustor” who was brainwashing Jordan) can go f(ck himself. Really? Blaming Delilah’s parents for avenging her death?

I’m still unsure where exactly the show is going with Jordan. His brainwashing will have to be addressed at some point. It may not have been fully successful - he doesn’t think of the Primes as gods - but it was sure enough for him to stop despising them as murderers and to start believing their BS (and even to form some sort of attachment to Priya). If he weren’t brainwashed, he’d be spending time with Delilah’s grieving parents, rather than the people who worship her murderers. Right now, the show is playing it ambiguously, so some people may even forget about brainwashing and just see Jordan as a gullible naive guy (which he is, of course, he grew up just interacting with his parents) or as Jordan sees himself, as a moral compass/substitute for his father. Someone should tell him that Monty was never naive and knew when it was necessary to fight and kill, even though he hated it and tried to avoid it. Maybe realizing that he’s been manipulated by the Devout and by SH will be a wake-up call. 

Jackson has had more character focus in S7 than he had for seasons - the mild doctor now wants revenge for his mentor-mother figure. Good to see more focus on his and Miller’s relationship, including their arguments. What Jackson said about Miller seems to have hurt Miller, who’s still feeling guilty for his role in the Blodreina regime. Maybe this Mackson disagreement contributes to Miller deciding to leave, to prove something to himself, and save Bellamy this time, since he didn’t do it in season 5.

Memori continue to be adorable. and we learn that Raven having no respect for her friends’ privacy is a recurring thing. Another snippet about the life on the Ring.

There was one line that didn’t make sense to me. Raven to Murphy: “Go do your job, be Emori’s moral anchor”. What?! Isn’t it usually the exact opposite? 

Speaking of couples - Hatch called Nikki “Honey bunny”. That has to be a Pulp Fiction reference. Raven got the job done here, but I feel like Hatch’s death will have dire consequences for the possibility of peace in Sanctum. Both because he was the more optimistic and tolerant one, willing to expect good and to try to work to earn respect, and because Nikki is now going to be even angrier and more extreme. And just like we had different views about Sheidheda among the Grounders, here we see different views among prisoners about McCreary - Hatch calls him a jackass he won’t miss, but Nikki thinks he would have fought for the rights and better treatment of the prisoners. (I wonder what any of them have been told about Diyoza.)

“Welcome to the world of grey”

A few more words about Raven’s storyline -

One thing that bothers me about this storyline is the idea that this is the first time Raven is in the "world of grey". I guess the writing staff Murphy doesn't remember that time when she tried to give him to the Grounders to be tortured and killed in Finn's place for a crime Finn committed. She also tried to get Clarke to kill Lexa and start a war over Finn in that same episode, basically to sacrifice a bunch of people for him. There was also that time when she tortured Lincoln with electric shocks to save Finn. Or that time when she was withholding medicine from the dying people, including a dying child, because of rationing. Or the time when she was ready to turn the plug on 283 prisoners in cryo sleep. Or when she gave Echo an OK to kill Shaw, her ally, in season 5.

But all this got forgotten because she's never before had to deal with the consequences of her actions. Lincoln didn't die, the others stopped her from turning over Murphy and Finn gave himself up, Clarke opted to mercy kill Finn and do what's best for everyone instead, Murphy stole the meds and gave them to Abby so the child was given the medicine but died anyway, they didn't have to - and then couldn't - kill the prisoners in their sleep, Echo did not kill Shaw... 

There were also plenty of times when Raven gave others the responsibility - like when she decided Clarke needed to make the list of 100 people who'll get to survive Praimfaya in the Arkadia as shelter (while passively aggressively bashing her at the same time, which was weird: "I'm in charge of rationing, but deciding who lives or dies is your specialty"), and then Clarke got blamed for it.U

Now, the writers (going by Jason's recent interview where he said that Raven had never done anything morally wrong in the first 6 seasons) seem to have forgotten about it - which I guess is why they wrote her as a self-righteous moralizer in season 6 - unintentionally making her really hypocritical. Which I hated, because she used to be one of my favorite characters, but became quite hard to like in season 6. 

The way I see it, it’s best to ignore ridiculous BTS statements of the writers when those statements don’t match canon. I’m all for “Death of the Author” in that case, at least. If we just ignore it, Raven’t entire arc starts making more sense. Maybe they had some weird idea that they were writing her as the moral compass of the show in season 6 (but people who have acted as a moral compass usually don’t say things like “I’ve never done anything wrong in my life!” and refuse to acknowledge their own mistakes), but I’ve always interpreted Raven’s behavior in S6 as lashing out - she was hurting and lashing out, because she had been betrayed by her substitute mom Abby in the same way and for the same reasons as her real mom; she also felt betrayed by Clarke; and then she lost Shaw, the one person who would have put her first, so she felt she had no one left who would. (Though she did get better later in the season, making up with Abby, acting less judgmental and making up with Clarke. )

This is either the show course-correcting her earlier characterization, or fixing a long-standing flaw - Raven’s tendency to be harsh and judgmental to others, which had already been there before season 6. This was seen in this episode, too, from some of her disparaging comments to Murphy, to her contempt for the Eligius prisoners (not that this isn’t understandable, with the fact that she had been tortured by McCreary’s men).

So this feels like an important step in Raven starting to face the world of grey she often tried to see as black and white, and for once be in a situation where she has, almost directly, caused people’s deaths, by decisions she made on her own. 

(The show also seems to be course-correcting a few other things about Raven: she looks more like her old self, she has gotten back some of her snark, and the show is showing her disability more - after having largely ignored it for the last couple of seasons.) 

To be fair to Raven, she did not know from the start that she was sending Hatch and others to their deaths. She had assumed at first that the task would be dangerous, but not lethal. When she realized it was, the men were already irradiated, and it was necessary to fix the reactor so it would not kill everyone. The bigger problem was that Raven had lied - because she did not respect these people enough to give them an opportunity to maybe volunteer while knowing what the danger was. I think that Hatch, at least, still would have. He did prove smarter than she thought but realizing what was going on, while she was still lying to them that they weren’t going to die in minutes, and, contrary to what she had assumed - he did still want to fix the reactor, in spite of knowing he’d die, to save someone he loved. Raven also showed a similar disrespect towards Murphy - locking him inside to get the job done. It feels like this is something that has never been fully resolved between them - the fact that Murphy was a POS in season 1 and crippled Raven, but also, that she was fully prepared to give him to the Grounders to be tortured and killed in Finn’s place. I feel like this is going to make her start thinking differently and maybe give people the benefit of a doubt.

I knew Nikki was going to beat the crap out of Raven from the trailer, but I didn’t know what her reasons would be. It felt like Raven herself almost wanted this as punishment, because she felt guilty, and would rather take a beating than comfort (”Don’t touch me!”) And I’m sure Raven can understand how Nikki feels, since she has lost Shaw so recently, and Finn before. 

I liked Hatch’s conversation with Murphy and the parallels Murphy could see there - Hatch and Nikki were another Bonnie and Clyde-style thief or rather robber duo.... except it went too far and they became murderers. Which Memori were not... but Murphy was a murderer even in season 1. In season 6, Murphy died and thought he had gone to hell for his sins, so it must have resonated with him when Hatch replied that, no, he wasn’t looking for redemption, because “There is no making up for it”.

Body count: James (RIP to yet another Arker from Wonkru, though we first met him in 6x02), his Sanctum girlfriend, and 4 Eligius prisoners including Hatch (which means that 32 remain).

Rating: 7/10

[juminsmysticmc]

Too fast

Pairings: Zen x Mc Ending: Happy End/ Fluff/ Exciting  Soooo! This is the winner of the ,,War of Votes’’ ! I hope you are happy, even through a few of you wanted to read the HC ahaha! So, please tell me your opinion in the comments/ in my ask box!! THANK YOU 

   ☆҉‿➹⁀☆҉ •☆҉‿➹⁀☆҉ •☆҉‿➹⁀☆҉ •☆҉‿➹⁀☆҉ •☆҉‿➹⁀☆҉ •☆҉‿➹⁀☆҉ •

Zen and Mc go to a Motorbike race and get into an argument. Mc is so angry at Zen that she goes on a Motorbike with another man on a race, to provocate him. This kind of payback however goes horribly wrong...  

This Mc is a latino Mc, there’s a special reason, hahah XD I was at my friend’s place and her fiancé is a latino and so we were listening to latino music and watched the music video and then this story suddenly came into my mind, hahaha. I hope you enjoy it! Besides I wanted to describe the MC a bit better, hahahah.

You and Zen had a special bond. You two just needed to look at each other to know what the other one was thinking. Your feelings were connected. If you felt ill, it didn’t even take ten seconds until Zen’s message came up on your display to ask if everything was alright. It was the same for you. Suddenly, your heart would hurt, your hands would begin to tremble, and your only thoughts would be about your boyfriend Zen. Whenever you felt like that, you knew that he was nervous. The relationship between the two of you was amazing. Everything was alright between you two, but today was a day who both of you somehow decided to ignore the bad feeling. The fear and anger in your hearts. Instead, you packed your things and called him to please come down.

,,Where are we going?’’ he asked you, looking straight into your beautiful eyes. Like always, they managed to drive him into the abyss of your beauty. ,,Oof! Zen, I already told you that Carlos invited us to the Motorbike race!’’ you answered a bit annoyed. ,,The latino man, who once had a crush on you, invited you and me, your boyfriend, to a race?’’ Zen asked again, not believing your words, even though they came out of your wonderful mouth. ,,Why are you like that again? It annoys me! Carlos never had a crush on me and both of us know that! So why are you being so awkward towards him? He already asked me if you hate him!’’ you whined throwing back your long black curls. ,,He’s my childhood friend. Can’t you manage to like him?’’ you asked him, breathing out in annoyance. Zen turned his eyes. He knew that sometimes he was way too jealous, but this time it was real. The man you named your best friend once had feelings for you.  Zen was a man too so he could see it. The way he looked at your curves, the hugs he gave you, and the smiles he sent you. Your white haired boyfriend was pretty sure that his glances were often filled with love. ,,Por favor, papi…’’ you whined in your native language. ,,I will take the helmets…’’ Zen moaned, still angry.

And so you sat behind him, your hands strongly wrapped around his body to make sure that you wouldn’t fall.

The loud latino music resounded through Zen’s ears as a lot of people stood around a good looking man in a black shirt and jeans. He had a drink in his hand and his tan body laid against the big red bike. His eyes suddenly met Zen’s and afterwards yours. At the sight of your red cheeks a light smile ended up on his face, making Zen feel pissed right away. The man put away his drink and approached you, going through the whole crowd. ,,Mi amor!’’ he laughed, hugging your body and inhaling the smell of your shampoo. Zen looked at him like a child who just found out that Santa wasn’t real. ,,Carlos, you look even better today!’’ you praised him. But before he could give you an answer, Zen began to make a noise, making Carlos realize that he was there too. ,,Hi, I’m Zen, Mc’s boyfriend,’’ Zen said, giving your friend his hand. Carlos looked at Zen in shock. 

,,We know each other…’’ he hissed, not accepting his hand. The conversation however already ended there since Carlos was called by another girl and left due to her call. ,,What the heck was that?’’ you asked him as soon as he was distant enough, glaring at Zen. ,,Did you see that? He ignored my hand!’’ Zen complained. ,,Hyun, do you realise that your mouth let out shit?’’ you asked him, shaking your head. However, you decided to stop and instead go to your friends. The music was loud, playing latino music. You moved your curves and your hands. Your body was dancing as good as possible, just like always when you were with them. Everyone watched you. There was none who disliked the view of you, and that was even more depressing. You strongly moved your ass, twerking around until something soft was placed on your body.

,,Stop it, you’re showing too much skin,’’ Zen hissed in front of everyone, hiding your body with his jacket. The other guests didn’t even dare to try to breathe as Zen said these words. ,,Are you serious!? I thought we wouldn’t have these kinds of problems!’’ you talked back, crossing your arms over your breasts. A loud argument started before Zen grabbed you on your arm and began to talk to you in a little corner. ,,You look - aish! Hot with your shorts and the top in white, really, princess, but you look a bit too hot! Every man here is literally drooling for you!’’ he hissed. You were annoyed and you had to be honest. You didn’t know how to answer. He was being cute, but also over protective.

,,It’s her decision through,’’ a voice behind Zen said, making Zen boil from the inside. ,,Could you please shut up? I don’t remember having you in our relationship,’’ Zen hissed back, turning around and glaring at Carlos. ,,Hyun, please,’’ you whined. ,,Mc, please! Don’t you realise that he’s always in the middle?’’ Zen asked you strictly. You hated to see Zen that way. He looked mad, sad and disappointed. His eyes showed you pure sadness. ,,Just...do what you want. I don’t care…’’ Zen mumbled and went back. You tried to run after him but your best friend suddenly grabbed your hand.

Carlos looked at you, his eyes deeply in yours as you realised that you were doing something wrong right now. ,,When did you change like this? It’s the first time after a lifetime that you’re meeting us, your real friends. Now you’re just hanging out with him and his other friends. Even your abuela is worried,’’ he softly said and brought you along to his bike. ,,In the past you even raced with us,’’ he said. ,,Oi! Let’s get ready! Mc is finally there with us!’’ he laughed. Friends turned up the music and began to dance even quicker, moving their asses and laughing happily. Carlos and another friend sat on their bikes. A beautiful girl with black long curly hair sat behind them, her make up way too strong and her clothes way too much.

You noticed that in the past this was also your life, but Zen changed you. You were also beautiful without that much makeup and showing lesser skin was also okay. After all, your boyfriend was the only one who had the right to observe every part of your skin. Carlos started the bike, making the motor cry out. ,,Oi, Carlos, where are the helmets?’’ you asked him worried. ,,Mc! We never had helmets!’’ your friend laughed. Some girls stood before you and waved with black white flags, showing them that they could start too.

You suddenly realised that Zen would never dare to let you on his bike without a helmet and the proper protection. The RFA never forced you to do anything you disliked. Instead, they were always supporting you with their all. ,,What did I do?’’ you asked yourself before the race began.

,,Ai, I thought Mc changed, but apparently Carlos changed her mind,’’ someone exclaimed. ,,To be honest, I liked her better with her current boyfriend,’’ someone else said, making Zen turn around. He was still indecisive if he should really let you stay there alone, but something told him to go back, to not ignore the feeling he was having, this pain in his body and fear in his head. Zen put back his helmet and and approached the crowd. The sight he had was his nightmare. ,,MC!’’ he yelled.

,,Carlos! Stop it! I want to get off!’’ you yelled as Carlos focused on going quicker than his rival. ,,MC, shut up!’’ he hissed. ,,CARLOS, PARE!’’ you yelled to stop. Carlos looked back at you in disbelief. ,,CARLOS, LOOK IN FRONT OF YOU!’’ you yelled. Carlos quickly looked in front, losing control and shaking. Everything happened quickly. Your life flashed before your eyes. You deciding to go to Korea and meeting Unknown, going to Zen and becoming his girlfriend, the friendship with the RFA, and losing the people you called friends in Korea. Carlos and a few other Latinos sometimes came to meet you, but you just now realized that they weren’t your true friends.

Your body hit the floor. The impact made you feel as if your head was broken into thousands of pieces.   The metallic smell of blood and the bike made you feel nauseated as every limb of your body throbbed in pain. ,,MC!’’ you heard Zen calling out for you. ,,Zen…’’ you mumbled, searching him with your eyes. ,,Zen,’’ you mumbled. You couldn’t even hear yourself anymore. ,,MC! MC, STAY AWAKE! OKAY?!’’ he yelled, putting something over you. However, this didn’t stop your trembling body. ,,Zenny...where are you?’’ you whispered. ,,I’m here, princess…don’t worry. I called Jumin. He’s quicker than an ambulance, don’t worry, hm?’’ Zen asked you, gently taking your hand in his.

,,You’re crying…’’ you noticed. ,,No, I’m not…’’ he laughed, choking his tears down. Zen observed you as your eyes began to flicker. His fear got even stronger. He didn’t want to see you die. That would be his worst nightmare. Especially because he just argued with you. This would be an awful way to end your life. ,,You are beautiful, do you know that?’’ he asked you, trying to keep you awake.  ,,I’m so sorry...I didn’t put on a helmet…’’ you whined. ,,I don’t want to die, Hyun! I don’t-’’ you sobbed louder, feeling desperate. Zen couldn’t stop his sobs either, now that he saw your tears. He kissed your hand and promised you that he wouldn’t let you die.

The ambulance finally came. With it, the police, as well Jumin and Jaehee arrived. ,,She’s badly hurt! She’s injured!’’ Zen yelled at the paramedics, being held by Jumin and Jaehee. Your blood was sticking to his body. His hands looked as if he just killed you brutally and his clothes smelled like you, but he ignored the dirty feeling he had.  ,,Carlos...who’s that ass-’’ Zen suddenly yelled. His eyes were showing pure evil. Carlos was hurt too but he could sit up perfectly fine. He was probably hurt in the head too. ,,Oi!’’ Zen yelled, approaching the man who sheepishly looked up. He couldn’t even react before Zen threw his fit directly in his face.

,,Stupid ass, that’s what you deserve for almost killing my girlfriend. I swear, if she’s seriously injured I will kill you with my own hands, I swear. Be prepared!’’ he warned him and went back. Zen and Jumin, as well as Jaehee, quickly went to the hospital you were brought to. When they arrived you were in surgery. Quickly afterwards the other members arrived, fear written all over their faces.

,,She was really lucky,’’ the doctor explained to Zen, not leaving out any details. You had to start rehabilitation and probably go to some more courses to also heal your mind. This would be a long way for you, but Zen was ready to burden all this for you, his soulmate. Nothing would stop him from supporting you.

,,Okay, I’m so hyped that I will get discharged soon!’’ you chuckled, smiling brightly at Zen. ,,Mhm. I’m so happy that you’re here, Mc...It could have ended pretty bad, do you realize that?’’ Zen asked you.   You nodded, your warm hands holding his cheeks. Once again, tears were falling down and his eyes were red. You felt terrible. It was your fault and you knew it. And to God you swore that you would never do something like that again. You would never go on a bike again without a helmet. You also said goodbye to the race. You now wanted to start a safe life together with Hyun.

,,I love you…’’ you whispered and put your lips on his, tasting the salty tears he had just shed for you. ,,I love you even more. You are my life and my happiness…’’ Zen confessed, hugging you softly and crying in each others arms.

,,Abuela, por favor!’’ you whined when you tried to explain to her that it was alright. Your mother on the other side and didn’t stop yelling. ,,I already told you that Hyun settled things with Carlos! I haven’t seen him since then!’’ you tried to explain in your language. ,,Is everything alright?’’ Zen asked you. ,,My dad and Carlos’ parents had a fight and, aish, I can’t even explain. But now they want to come here and kiss your feet and fight with Carlos too. But I heard that he’s going back to our hometown,’’ you explained. Zen was glad that Carlos wouldn’t contact you anymore, so he hugged you and kissed your cheeks.