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blondeaxolotl · 6 months ago

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Finally found the time to draw my re-vamp of Pluto... I had this planned for a while but I didn't do anything until now!!! so here he is! The guy!!!

Since I probably won't talk about Pluto that often, I'm deciding to just drop his re-vamp here and his lore that I made for him in this post!!

Personality wise: Pluto is a human who was formed into a "Hell-hound", unlike "Canon Pluto", Pluto here has more of the personality of a human instead of a dog in a mans body. He resembles a dog yes, but he talks, walks, behaves like a person, and prefers to be treated as one, otherwise it makes him feel de-humanised if he's being shoo'd away like some house-pet (which is what Sebastian often does, they don't like eachother that much). Pluto seems to have a close bond with Finny and Snake, considering them truly family first before he starts viewing the others as such as well (Not Sebastian). He does not recall his human life, he doesn't even remember his own name. The reason why he's referred to as "Pluto" is because it's what Angela called him when she was in charge of him, and the name stuck within the phantomfam, but he did eventually gain the nickname "Plu-Plu" by Finny, which Pluto seems to not mind, but he prefers if it's only used by either Finny or Snake (or his snakes). Besides his obvious close bond with Finny and Snake, he's slowly starting to show more trust with the others, Like Ciel, Mey-Rin and Tanaka. He doesn't like Baldroy that much but he doesn't hate him (they'll eventually bond when Baldroy starts to cook better food). Though he seems to hate Sebastian and refuses to be near him or listen to him (unless Ciel tells him to), poor fella is uncomfortable around him.

BACKSTORY/LORE (Warning for Human experiment, demon sacrifice, implied animal abuse, physical abuse and torture) Please read with caution if any of this things might discomfort or trigger you

I'm going to keep things short and simple I won't go into deep detail or such, it's just a summary of what "Pluto" went through from beginning to end and how he got to where he is now, also sorry if the writing is shit this is my first time writing anything like this so my bad.

On a bright sunny day, a 17 year old boy, Maxwell, and his pet dog were both kidnapped and taken away while alone working on their family farm while his parents were away for the week. Max and his dog were taken away by a group of men and taken to a mad doctor who wanted to create the first ever "half-beast half-man" and sell it off to a freakshow for alot of money, pretending to have "found" the beast instead of "creating" it. Unfortunately, the boy and his dog were not the first. While being dragged away to their new long-time home, Max noticed cages upon cages of "people" with animal parts attached to them (from the looks of it, it seemed like a few of them were already lifeless and decaying). With now knowing what's going to become of him, Max and his dog were thrown in an empty cage together, a cage which will be known as his long-time home and thus 2 long years of torture began. The torture of him and his dog becoming one.

After many forced injections, body parts being taken apart and stitched together, Max slowly grew weaker and weaker as more as he went through, not only did his body grow weaker, but so did his mind. Who was he? Who were his parents? Where did he come from? Why was he wearing a dog collar? Answers who he did not know for, at least not anymore. The doctor, who was getting more and more irritated realizing the only thing keeping his creation alive right now was his weak breathing, has grown sick and tired of all these failed experiments. The doctor had one last option to make his half-beast man become fully alive and functional, one last chance of becoming the rich man he wished to be.

Max being yanked by his collar and forced to walk on his hind legs (which was already painful enough to stand) was dragged down to a lower, darker part of the building(?) he was in, his vision was blurry and his ears were muffled but upon entering a room, he could see the figure of who believed to be the doctor standing above something and surrounded- what Max believed to be a weird circle.

After being thrown into the circle, he struggled to stand up and fell down to the ground, rubbing his eyes trying to handle this brain-spliting headache while the doctor rambles off non-sense, for a second he felt like he heard something being impaled but wasn't sure. Barely a second past and suddenly the whole room felt like it was spinning, weird black goop and furniture started circling around him and the doctor as if there was a hurricane accruing right this moment.

Max finally looked up and saw a strange tall lanky figure leaning over the doctor (at least what he thought was a figure), his vision was still blurry but he knew he felt unsafe the moment that thing appeared in the room. Not even trying to comprehend what the two of them were talking or even trying to figure out what that thing was or where it came from, he tried his best to regain his strength and attempt to crawl away to safety- Which didn't last long as he felt a sharp pain within his chest suddenly, as if a hand went through him and started crushing his soul. Whatever that thing was, he knew the doctor told it to do it (since he heard loud cheer coming from that freak)- He felt like he was being killed and reincarnated at the same time.

Moments later, Max found himself running out of the building he was once kept in for what felt like an eternity. Blood was dripping down from his mouth but he no longer felt pain every stepped he took, his vision and earing have improved as well, as if all that pain he went through never happened.

He did not know what that thing was, (he did not recall what he did or what happened after the experience with the figure and the doctor, but he knew he did something- did he hurt someone?) but it seemed to have helped him more than it helped the doctor, whatever it was, he did NOT want to encounter it again nor something similar to it. Despite feeling physically better, his mental state still remained fragile, he still couldn't remember anything nor how he even got here. Who was he again?

Months after finally fleeing his personal hell, walking for days and hours as far away as he could. He eventually found himself in a forest, and finally decided this was a good place to rest for a bit, he was far away from his abusers, but also isolated enough to where no one could find him and take him away again. At least, that's what he thought.

A minute has past with his eyes closed, only to quickly open them up again after feeling something hover over him, a strange woman in white was standing over him. “Oh dear, what are you” she muttered.

He didn’t know if she meant it with disgust, but she seemed surprised nonetheless. They both stared at each other for a short period of time, before the lady look away for a moment and then looked back, as if an idea clicked in her head.

“You’re a strange looking demon hound” A demon hound? Is that who he is? What's a demon hound? “But you seem to be lost and scared, come now, as an Angel, it’s my duty to help those in need, even if one is a demon”

He had no idea who this woman was, but the moment she spilled out that she was an angel he immediately jumped back onto his feet, an angel? Did she come to help him? Did she come to fix him? If only she would’ve come sooner but he would rather not complain “What’s your name?” she asked but all he could do is stare, what was his name again? Did he even have one? After receiving moments of silence, he felt a tug on his collar “Pluto” The angel said

“Nice to meet you Pluto, we’re going to be friends for a while now” Pluto? That felt familiar, but he didn’t know why.. But it was his name now, and it’s what he will be referred to from now on according to the angel. With his tail wagging and his spirit high now, Pluto finally found someone he can trust, I mean, it’s an angel after all, and angels are always there to help, so of course he's going to trust her, she did say she is going to help him.

Without hesitation, Pluto began following the angel after she gestured to him, leading him to a village. Believing that this village might be his journey to fixing himself, though unfortunately, he does not realise that the angel tricked him into becoming the monster of this villager, leading to long months of now being treated like monster that deserves to be hunted down by the towns people, and only bringing hatred towards the villages own dogs because of him being a "hound dog". That is, until help finally arrives.

______________________________________________

Okay yeah I yapped a little too much my bad I got carried away, but basically long story short, Ciel and Sebastian get there, they found out it’s not some evil spirit and it’s pluto instead (Sebastian beats the fuck out of him) and later on Angela hands Pluto over to them to “train him better” or whatever. Which Ciel agrees to and next thing you know Pluto ends up becoming a trio with Finny and Snake because he feels the closest to them and believes they’re the only ones who relate to him the most with the experience he went though and yeah. This took longer than I expected and it's now 3am lmaooo, as a bonus for reading my edgy story have a doodle:

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erzatz3117 · 9 months ago

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Ok, I really need to try my hand at this

YOU: With a bright green flash, the antediluvian servers of Automattic memorised your newest piece of miscellaneous Total Decay illustration.

TRIVIA [Trivial: Success]: "Dahn Sinkewicz and Total Decay" is the book you've been writing, with inconsistent success, for the past 7 months.

TORTURED ARTIST [Easy: Success]: Do you think he could just *forget* about his upcoming nearly-finished magical-realist, new-sincerity, Columbo-meets-Boris-goddamn-Yeltsin detective masterpiece?

DECONSTRUCTION [Medium: Success]: Will it become less derivative if you add more compound adjectives? Also, I don't think "magical-realist" should be hyphenated.

BLACK MIRROR OF PRE-APOCALYPTIC POST-TRUTH: Time is dripping from the ceiling, it's drops making monotone clicking sounds. No living soul has observed your art yet. Or, at least, did not feel anything at all in the process.

1. "What am I doing wrong? I checked all the boxes!"

2. [Delete your Tumblr account immediately.]

YOU: [Delete your Tumblr account immediately.]

BLACK MIRROR OF PRE-APOCALYPTIC POST-TRUTH: You will not leave this place. You have one too many *mutuals*.

1. "What am I doing wrong? I checked all the boxes!"

YOU: What am I doing wrong? I checked all the boxes!

BOX-FITTING [Easy: Success] You even posted it at the correct *time window*!

TRIVIA [Medium: Failure] Don't fret, towarisch, this lack of activity is easily explained by... Sorry, I'll sit this one out.

DECONSTRUCTION [Hard: Success]: Maybe we could look at it from an artistic perspective?

TORTURED ARTIST: What are you implying? It's awesome! Atleast, it is certainly better than some *creations* you see on here occasionally...

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] SHUT UP, FOR REAL. Do I need to refer you to the sign?

+5 XP gained from thought "Never Be Mean"

NERD-JOCK TRANSUBSTANTIATION [Legendary: Success]: You're obviously just not cut for this liberal arts nonsense, bratan! You have gym practice this Wednesday, remember? Your only goal is *the grind*, so show them you don't care about online recognition!

1. [Attempt to throw a tantrum.]

NODE COORDINATION [Impossible: Failure]: The neural pathway previously used for rapid mental mobilisation has dissipated under pressure from punitive education practices and liberal consumption of inhibitory neurotransmitters. I am sorry.

NERD-JOCK TRANSUBSTANTIATION [Hard: Success] Is that yarn-head trying to say that you can't *get angry* anymore?

HOMEOSTASIS: I'm clicking all the right buttons, yet nothing is happening. So yes, our capability for strong emotions has largely atrophied.

NERD-JOCK TRANSUBSTANTIATION [Impossible: Failure]: Wow, that... sucks, bratan. We will have to work around this in the future, I guess...

BLACK MIRROR OF PRE-APOCALYPTIC POST-TRUTH: The obsidian obelisk shudders, emitting a familiar glow: a new notification from Tumblr.

BLACK MIRROR OF PRE-APOCALYPTIC POST-TRUTH: Let's see: your mutual liked your post...

TORTURED ARTIST [Easy: Success] Where did I put my corkscrew?

DECONSTRUCTION [Medium: Success] I wouldn't be so optimistic.

BLACK MIRROR OF PRE-APOCALYPTIC POST-TRUTH: It's a... *funny-haha* post you reblogged an hour ago.

EMPATHY [Hard: Failure]: It seems as if we are the only unpopular person here.

TRIVIA [Trivial: Success]: That is a mathematical impossibility.

1. [Try again to come up with a reasonable explanation for why the notes under your art never exceed single digits.]

2. "You know, this just makes me more convinced that social networks are an instrument of isolation, not connection." [Send the art to that one guy on Discord who seems to like it.]

DIGITAL SPECTRE OF A FRIEND OF A FRIEND: It takes the man you only know from a vestigial meme server a couple seconds to look at the image you've sent to him. He finally answers...

DIGITAL SPECTRE OF A FRIEND OF A FRIEND: "Hey, that is pretty nice! I am always blown away by the depth of your worldbuilding!"

MORALE HEALED +1

EMPATHY [Medium: Success]: Okay, at least this guy likes us.

DECONSTRUCTION [Easy: Success] This veritably shows that our art is not *bad*, so something else must be going on here.

NERD-JOCK TRANSUBSTANTIATION [Medium: Success]: Hey, this bro is *real*!

NOISE SUPPRESSION [Easy: Success]: Everything inside you feels lighter, *validated*, somehow.

1. [Excitedly jump out of your bed.]

2. [Output a highly memetic sound of deep satisfaction.]

1. [Excitedly jump out of your bed.]

EXPLOSIVE POWER [Formidable: Failure]: Your brain sends out a clear signal, but your sore muscles don't move a millimeter.

HOMEOSTASIS: Sorry, boss, not happening. We should've had more that one meal today if we wanted to perform entrance-level acrobatic tricks like that.

2. [Output a highly memetic sound of deep satisfaction.]

NOMINALIZATION [Trivial: Success]: I know a couple good ones, *bestie*. Would look really *-core* on your *moodboard*, or whatever.

YOU: "Yipee!", you say, "Wahoo!", you whimper.

UNDIAGNOSED MENTAL ILLNESS (AKA "THE TUTORIAL"): This feedback cycle has officially concluded. You must create more art to feel satisfaction again.

HOMEOSTASIS [Trivial: Success]: Can we go to sleep now? Tomorrow is gonna be hell by all margins...

BLACK MIRROR OF PRE-APOCALYPTIC POST-TRUTH: Hey, you can't go! You'll miss so much stuff you won't care about!

1. "You're right, my beloved obelisk!" [Keep scrolling for 4 more hours, completely ruining your following week.]

2. "Sorry, *siliconstie*, but I really need to go." [Finally go to sleep.]

Thought gained: The Ovine Enumerator

#disco elysium #writing #total decay

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beevean · 1 year ago

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WIP Saturday

(supposed to be Wednesday but you know)

I was tagged by @monochromatictoad! I do have a WIP, several in fact :D and I tag @the-crow-binary and @viralvava, if you guys are willing to share!

Since I'm stuck here, I'll get the chance to post the most complete part :P

On Walter’s throne, Joachim was bored.

And he was so sick of being bored.

Oh sure, at first he was delighted to see the throne room from that new perspective – no longer on his knees kissing Walter’s ridiculously ornamented boots, but sitting where the wretched despot used to sit, looking down at the pathetic creatures crawling in and out the hall.

(he could still smell his stench on his throne, fresh blood and meat and polished metal Joachim couldn’t stand it he hated it hated it hated him him him)

He had been weak and helpless for so long, that he didn’t know what to do with his newfound power: it was a liberation and a burden at the same time.

At first, he passed the time killing some of the monsters that bowed down to him, shaking like rippling water. Some of the uglier ones, the slimy ones, the mermen who still dared to show their faces around him as if he didn’t have enough of them and their blood that stank of rotten fish; it was easy, to decapitate them with his swords, or cut off their limbs to leave them to bleed out, or exert more of his power to crush their windpipes and lungs. They made funny noises when dying: they made for lovely music. And it felt so, so good to do so not because his body cried out for nourishment, seized by despair and the primal need for survival: but because he could, and there was nothing who could stop him, not anymore.

But even that grew stale. Death had no gravitas, for someone who had transcended it.

So Joachim spent some more years exploring what he used to call his home, to refresh his memory.

(Not all of it: he gave the watery caves a wide berth. He’d rather descend into Hell and break his legs there: it was bound to be a more pleasant stay. The sound of falling rain still made him jolt on the throne. He could kill any eventual witness to that sorry spectacle, but not the shame burning in his dead guts.)

(One day, he finally sealed the entrance for good measure, and his cackling resonated up to the surface.)

The new enormous chapel, polished to a shine and bathed in the silver moonlight, only made him scoff. He could stare at the giant crucifixes and the statues of holy women without his eyes melting: they were mere counterfeits, bait for the knights’ hope and faith. How like Walter, to meticulously create something so ostentatious as a form of mockery. Joachim had no affection for the Christian God he was forced to worship in his life, so no emotions ever stirred him – he counted it as a victory against his dead master, who used to drink Joachim’s anger like distilled blood.

He’d visit the abandoned theatre quite often, force the vain succubi to give him a show, to transform into Joachim and Walter and reenact the moment he had slayed the former Lord, perhaps with a little embellishment for his amusement. And Joachim clapped, clapped hard enough that the sound of his joy echoed into the empty hallways! If they were creative enough, he’d even spare them.

He didn’t understand why the inhabitants of the castle were so terrified of him. So maybe he had a little too much fun cleaning up the place, but he had no intention of imprisoning anyone, so they should be grateful that their new Lord was much more merciful. Not that he cared about the opinion of lurid creatures who enjoyed their useless freedom when he rotted in the bowels of the castle, forgotten by everything, lower than the maggots that squirmed in decayed corpses.

The alchemy laboratory brought back memories that Joachim could have done without. Walter had taught him the basics of alchemy, in that place, he had told him about the Ebony and the Crimson Stone, the greatest treasures for a vampire to hold. And Joachim looked up to him, to his knowledge, and he had allowed him to fill his head with his obnoxious voice, and allowed him to touch him with those filthy paws of his, and…

Well, Walter was dead, and Joachim still remembered how to read, albeit slowly. He could soak in the rest of Walter’s knowledge by himself. And curse him for even thinking of appreciating one thing about that bastard, but his wealth of knowledge was immense, and a more than fulfilling pastime.

But the gardens were by far his favorite wing of the castle. Air, fresh air, for him and only him to feel on his skin! He even breathed it, as if to replace the stagnant humidity that had become part of his body. And oh, how he had missed the night sky, the stars spreading over his head rather than those stalactites he had watched grow, waiting for them to impale him. He enjoyed laying on the damp grass, drawing in the air with his swords, and stare at the immense, red moon shining upon him, a benefactor he had forgotten about.

Soon, the castle became tight on him. Another cell, just bigger than the one he had called his home for… he was afraid of knowing how much time had passed ever since that fateful day, when he tried to show Walter that he was no mere toy, that he deserved the throne more than he did.

Never. Never again. Never again will he be stuck!

He hadn’t realized that Walter was his reason of living. Not just because he had gifted him with eternal life; the reason he never melted himself away under a waterfall was because for countless time, he had anticipated the sweet taste of revenge.

He feasted on that revenge. And then what?

Joachim had wasted enough of his immortality.

#beev's writing #castlevania #akumajou dracula #joachim armster #the second part is supposed to be joachim welcoming bapy isaac and julia in his castle lol #but i don't know i'm not convinced by this one #and i want joachim to travel around europe before that but that woudl require me to do research on early middle age europe and no thanks #anyway. he mad. he's just as fun to write as isaac is <3

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evil-ontheinside · 2 years ago

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Free Day byler fic recs!

(which I use to rec some fics I forgot or wasn't sure how to categorize)

No one should ever have to look at themselves. by Stanningeverything

Mike discovers his asexuality, catastrophizes, thinks his relationship is doomed by learning the fact and despite everything his family still weighs on his mind. He deals with all of this (badly)

Just the ordeal of figuring yourself out, dealing with your family issues, all while thinking you are the worst person on earth. Hopefully he has a great support system with his friends and boyfriend.

i turned around and nothing was here by ethqreal

Mike didn’t care. Maybe because he always managed, he made his own choices regardless of what his parents chose to preach and if he really was cursed with ice running through his veins, it didn’t matter because he would always love the boy across town until his very last breath and he had frozen from the inside-out.

or a cursed boy, his boyfriend, an idle town and them against the world.

The End of the World by eagle_ace

Post season 4, vaguely pre-season 5. Things fall apart, to say the least. After everything, the party's not really a party anymore. Mike wants to fix it, but he doesn't know how.

Mike's POV, lots of emotions, I tried writing in the present tense which I don't normally do. There's byler, there's an el-initiated milkvan breakup, there's the party (sans max unfortunately) being friends. Hypothetically this could take place between seasons, but I'm certain there'll be something in season 5 that makes that impossible.

Left to Rot by Cate_Olivyn

“Oh.” Mike snapped his fingers, huffing out a laugh. “Oh, this is like that- that black and white movie my mom likes to put on at Christmas. The Jimmy Stewart one.” He stood a little taller, a wild look in his eyes. “Alright! I’ve learned my lesson! I can go home now, and appreciate my life, yada yada.”

Nothing happened. Mike snapped his fingers again, more urgently, before raising his voice in a yell.

“Lesson learned! I wanna go home!”

The world stayed as it was, broken and decayed, and Mike screamed into the cold, stale air.

Or: After a bad fight with his friends, Mike wakes up in an alternate reality that seems to be plunged into an apocalyptic nightmare.

an ode to hope (and other funny things) by @pyschologicalrocketgirl

“Everything's going to be fine, please don't freak out.” Nancy starts to say, which causes Will’s eyes to widen.

“That’s…not really reassuring, you know that right?”

Nancy huffs a laugh, “Yeah, it isn’t, sorry.” He hears shifting through the receiver, and he thinks maybe that's all she's planned to say.

“Mike’s in the hospital.”

Will sucks in an involuntary breath, letting the air back out, shaky. He nods repetitively, a little numb as he tries to process, before realizing Nancy can’t see him.

“Okay.” He aims for level but his voice cracks mid-way. He’s almost whispering, “Is- he okay?”

Mike's in the hospital, which kickstarts a drive to Boston and a worried Will as he thinks about Mike, the past, and love, all while conveniently held up by New York traffic.

the loneliest blackout by @drop-of-infinity

Will knew the stages of Mike’s breakdowns. First came the silence, then the welling tears. They would stay there, perched on the edge of his eyelids until he began to talk, and then they would make their enviable path down Mike’s face. The tears would increase as his words trickled off, and eventually he would break into gasping sobs, unable to speak, unable to do anything but cry.

Or, Will tries to rip the bandaid off. Mike breaks down. They figure it out in the end.

@bylerficrecweek thank you guys so much for organizing this! the whole week was so much fun and I really enjoyed going through my bookmarks and discovering new fics loved by others <3

#and the last one is done!#These fics were really great as well #(especially the first one bc I'm ace and you know)#but I do love all of these equally bc they're all really cool!#as always: check the tags before you read anything no matter how interesting it might sound!#bylerficrecweek2023 #byler #stranger things #fic rec

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cobiehaven · 2 years ago

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With You on Lonely St. — Yang Jeongin

SYNOPSIS; great minds think alike, they say. you and jeongin might have crossed paths in the most awkward of circumstances but maybe he was good enough to live up to your expectation level of insane.

PAIRING; jeongin x reader

GENRE; baby pinch of fluff, angst, horror, tw

WORD COUNT; 3.1k

TAGS/WARNINGS; post-apocalypse au, strangers to friends, reader lowkey got rizz with that zombie in the beginning of the story, reader lowkey a sadist..?, reader also kind of a tsundere, jeongin is kinda crazy—, jeongin and reader have major chemistry but no established or hint of future relationship, badass!reader, reader is lowkey mommy material 😳, mention of blood, graphic scenes warning, fake background stories, not supposed to represent the real yang jeongin, lowkey hard to follow plot ???? i think ??????

AUTHORS NOTE; okay it is actually really hard to write a story that has so many background aspects and make it be interesting WITHOUT adding those aspects and making it like- a 10k story. so i’m sorry if the plot is a little hard to follow, you can improvise if it’s too hard !!!

you screamed out as you swung your axe down on the undead body below you, the tears rolling down your cheeks as you continued to beat and axe the zombie underneath you.

this was your outlet, your only way to take out all your built up feelings on the horrible things that you had been through to get here. sure, other people might have been through worse and that it might have been selfish to cry like this but y’know what? fuck them. this was your life. this is what you were living in right now. you didn’t have the time and place to worry about others.

your past explains a good deal of all the emotions and opinions you have leading up till now.

you breathed heavily as you stopped your swinging, looking down at the body practically carved into the asphalt at this point. his chest was slashed open with multiple blade markings caving into his heart, his arms and jaw were long gone, probably flew off somewhere whenever you were getting carried away with swinging. the sight of the overly burnt and decaying faces of these things would never get old to you. if somehow, the world ever went back to normal, you were sure that you probably wouldn’t even be able to look at normal human beings anymore. “augh..” the zombie below you groaned.

oh, you forgot to actually kill him.

you stared at him for a bit, your emotionless eyes watching as the poor man below you tried to helplessly go for your ankles to naw at. “tsk tsk, buddy,” you leaned down, grabbing ahold of his receding hair and lifting him up to your height. “you don’t even got teeth anymore, how do you expect to ever get a taste of your favorite flesh ever again?” you acted as if you were actually concerned for him, pouting at his rotting face as if he could actually understand what you were saying right now. he continued to try and naw at anything in his sight, in this case, now it was your face. “gosh, if you wanted a kiss that bad then you could have just said so,” you laughed. “oh wait.. you can’t,” you smirked, throwing the zombified man back onto the ground and lifting your axe above your head, swinging it down into his head. nothing could compare to the amount of joy you felt when you saw his brains split into half. and it was by your doing.

“ah,” you sighed out, standing up straight again and finally wiping the sweat from your forehead. “it’s a shame that you guys don’t feel pain.”

suddenly, you heard the shuffling of gravel rubbing against the ground.

whipping your head around, you quickly pulled out your gun from your belt, aiming it at whatever was just making movement behind you. you were surprised when you saw an unfamiliar man standing in the aim of your shot. you narrowed your eyes at the boy, his hands flying up as a gesture for no harm.

he wanted peace? no, you couldn’t trust him. you didn’t even know this man.

“what do you want?” was the first thing you asked, not finding any interest in exchanging names or getting to know each other. like you said, you didn’t have time for other people. it was silent for a little bit before he finally opened his mouth, contemplating what to say. “i saw you kill that rotter, you seemed pretty angry.” you eyes trailed down his figure, hm, he wasn’t carrying any weapons? did this guy have a death wish? that could set off many different possibilities for you that you could either interpret or misinterpret. “and? that was none of your business,” you responded. “you’re right, i just wanted to know what your reasoning was for toying with it before finishing it off.”

well, you certainly didn’t expect the conversation to start turning this way. was he asking for your entire backstory or something? why is this stranger trying to find out your entire biography? you wouldn’t even be surprised if the next thing he asks you is your age.

“are you… trying to hit on me?” you lowered you gun a little but still aiming at him, showing your visible confusion as he panicked and shook his head. “what?! no! no! no! i was just curious! believe me!”

for some reason, it felt like he was doing anything but just being curious. this guy was fucking spying on you for fucks sake.

“okay..” you trailed off. “i wouldn’t tell my reasoning to some guy i’ve never met before, so i would suggest you drop it and leave before you get the same treatment as the dude on the ground,” you held your gun up higher, his hands only shrugging up higher. “wait! can we just.. talk?” you tilted your head. “the reason i was watching you was becau-“ suddenly, he was cut off by the loud sounds of machine guns being set off in the background, the two of you whipping your heads around to try and identify where the shooting was coming from. only to be sent off sprinting down the road together when the shots landing at your feet, nearly hitting the both of you.

the raiders. a group of mistrustful sons of bitches who do nothing but steal from the hopeless and laugh at others who are of lower rank than them. if you really want to get deep into your history with them, then we can just say that you might have pissed off their leader far one too many times by being just as worse as them.

“what the fuck?! how did they find me so quickly?” jeongin shouted as he practically ran for his life. “what? they’re after you too?” you asked, remembering how your disgusting backstory ties a big part into this groups ways. you still shivered thinking about your beef with their ruler. “the fuck did you do to piss those guys off?” you asked, secondly. “oh y’know, just stole from them, killed some of them, pretended to be one of them for the food before betraying them. and now here we are.” he winked at you which had you in utter disbelief. this frail man with no sorts of weapon or stealth abilities did more than you? just who was he? “what about you?” the shots went right above your head, the both of you ducking down. “can we talk about this later?” you shouted back to him as you could hear the shots ringing in your ears at this point. the both of you ran for a while, the raiders seemingly not following after you which was a normal occurrence for your case. it was always easy to get away from their dysfunctional group just as long as you never actually got caught by them. if you ever did, you were sure that their way of torture and negotiation was not the ‘let’s sit down and have a nice little talk’ kind of way.

the both of you sprinted into a nearby store, a run down convenience store to be exact. the two of you catching your breath but still being cautious to the area around you. there could be anything lurking in here… literally.

after zombies happened, you were starting to believe shit like aliens existed.

“watch your step,” you warned to jeongin who just waved you off and started confidently down the aisles. “hey! stop! we have to search the place first!” you whisper-yelled and taking steps towards him before nearly screaming when you felt something tug on your hair. the all too familiar groan of the dead raking it’s dirty fingers through your locks had you in a panic. luckily enough for you, you somehow had come across the ace in this world.

jeongin swooped in between you and the zombie, his strong grip grabbing ahold of your hair and literally shoving the zombie off of you.

you had never felt so relieved and so disappointed to have long hair.

watching jeongin deal his way through the walker that had attacked you, you were finally starting to see just what he could do even without the use of his own weapon. he was elegant and quick with his movements, using his legs and arms in swift and equal motions to basically just beat this zombie to eternal death. not once did he seem like he needed help or even give the zombie a chance to even graze his pale skin. you wondered just what exactly this boy did before the whole pandemic went down.

“you-“ you started but cut off in disbelief once more. “you just killed that thing with your bare hands..” you trailed off as your hands were clutched to your chest. you were honestly amazed, dumbfounded, flabbergasted, floored. you didn’t have the words.

for once since the outbreak, you had never felt so… safe? of course, though, you weren’t going to admit that to him. and that still didn’t mean you trusted him nor were you going to give him a reason to think you were going to grant him that luxury any time soon.

letting out heavy breaths, jeongin then turned to you and smiled. “you should consider cutting your hair.” you gripped your long pony tail protectively. a girls hair is her pride and joy. for most, anyways. “no way!” he shrugged, “it was just a thought.”

your eyes trailed down to the crushed in body, it laying limp on the floor. “you should consider carrying a weapon,” you said, gesturing to his overly bloody hands. “i can’t believe you carry things and eat things and touch things.. with those hands, when there’s no running water.. that’s disgusting.” he shrugged once again. “they’ve never bothered me. as long as i clean them with a cloth then its fine. i know a nearby river, too.” you just stared at him for a couple of seconds before turning and searching the rest of the store. “come on! not even a thank you for saving your life?” he called out to you, a visible pout forming on his lips. you ignored him, not ever going to give him the satisfaction of a thanks. your pride was too high for that.

“care to tell me why you were spying on me?” for all you knew, he was just watching on you and now the two of you were hiding out together so neither of you got caught by the raiders. “i found your behavior interesting,” he followed your actions, going down the opposite end of the aisles. “interesting?”

there was something wrong with this guy if he thought you having fun cutting open a dead person was interesting.

he nodded as if you could see him. “the art you made with that zombie was just.. beautiful. the way you dealt with his jaw and arms and the way you spoke to him, even the way you threw his head back was so inspiring.”

did he think you were doing that to be pretty or to actually be genuine with your feelings?

if it was either, he was right.

for a long time now, you’ve loved the feeling of slinging a rotting body in your arms and splattering the blood all over, just mangling your way through deteriorating flesh, watching as it hung off or sometimes even fell off of your victims. you wanted those things to suffer the same way you had suffered back then, to feel the pain, that was the only downside to it all that just didn’t quite reach the edge for you.

if he thought the same way, then maybe keeping this boy by your side wouldn’t be so bad after all..

and if you both hated the same group of people, then maybe working together with his agileness and your strategy would make a good pairing in combat. not to mention, it would make gathering supplies much easier.

but of course, you still had your doubts… he’d have to live up to your expectations if he really wanted to stick around.

“you want to stay with me, don’t you?”

“of course i do.”

“i don’t even know your name.”

“yang jeongin.”

“l/n f/n”

“great, can we stick together now?”

he was a very persistent person but you were sure you could handle it if he played his cards right. surely he knew what he was getting himself into.

“you’re insane,” you shook your head, a small laugh coming out of you as you turned the corner at the end of your aisle. as if on cue, jeongin has also turned the corner on his aisle, but on the opposite end of the store. “you too.”

THE BACKSTORIES.

“so, you want to know my story?” you sat and jeongin nodded.

the crackling of the fire and the stillness of the night being like music to your ears as you propped one of your arms on your pulled up knee, your other hand being occupied with the brewing of the lovely yet bland rabbit stew you and jeongin managed to learn how to make over the course of these very few weeks. so fair, he has been a great asset to you, and you have been of great help to him. you could remember this one specific time when you both were able to lead a hoard of mobs into a huge deck of traps that only you and your partner knew how to maneuver through. of course, every zombie died to your work, the both of you wanting nothing more than to see the blood shed of such vile beings.

and of course, this was also all done just for the fun of it all.

great minds thought alike, they always said.

“only if you promise to tell your own.” he agreed, a small smile forming on your lips as the two of you stared at the fire in front of you. his resting legs plotted down on the opposite end of the small fire. you figured making a small one would make for less smoke as the two of you were pretty drained for the night to deal with any interruptions. “before the whole pandemic happened, i was with my family in our small town house. it was big family, mind you. probably about a family of 8 living in one small town house on a big street named lonely st.” you started. “when we heard about the outbreak starting to happen, no one wanted to believe it, obviously. until it actually happened. a lot of us managed to survive together, some of my brothers and sisters going within a short amount of time. when they were all gone, i was left alone in the house with no knowledge of how to fight or even care for myself in conditions like these. it was weeks in and i didn’t dare to walk outside my front door and see my undead family waiting for me on the infested road. but, luckily enough.. or i guess, unluckily enough, the raiders came to take care of the mess for me. they never found me but i couldn’t shake the feeling of them killing my family even if they were all already dead. the feelings got to me and eventually, i joined a trustworthy group that i could happily call my friends at the time. but of course, good things don’t always last…” you added, your eyes finally looking up from the campfire and into jeongin’s eyes. “that is when you found me, a week or two later of just rampaging my way down lonely st. doing what i do best and showing off my new skills and power,” you chuckled, his expression still seemingly unfazed.

you wondered what he was thinking.

“i couldn’t have imagined you going through that to get to where you are now,” he responded, you giving him a little shrug. “at least the raiders didn’t kill my family while they were alive, that would have been a different story.”

“why are they even after you anyways?” he asked.

“they’re just pissed off that i’m faster at raiding than them,” you snickered. “what about you?” you asked him the same question, he tilted his head.

“why are the raiders after me or what’s my backstory?”

“i did kind of ask for both.”

“you are very right”

the both of you laughed shortly before he finally broke his gaze with you, hugging his knees close to his chest. “the raiders are after me because i grew up with them.” this certainly caught you off guard. “but i never wanted to be one of them like they tried to force me to be. i only did for the food and protection. it was until i was of age that i started to rebel against them, they hated me for it, tried to beat me up for it. until i killed their previous leader. i became a run away after that.” he shrugged, not finding much in his story to be sad about, yet you were completely appalled. “if you were with those machine gun loving warlords, then what is your reasoning for not carrying a weapon?” you asked him, after all of this time with being with him, you had never seen him carry an actual weapon until it was something he knew he was going to need for one of your future traps. he shrugged again, “i hated using them when i was with the raiders, i find it way easier to use my hands. i’ll use a gun if it means i’ll be stuck in a place that i can’t stand my ground.”

it was silent for a bit, you tried to take in all of the information he was telling you. the mood was dampening, your backstories were sad, how could you find something to lighten the mood after that?

then suddenly, you thought of something.

“if you start carrying a weapon, then ill let you cut my hair,” you looked up at him, his eyes meeting yours, widely. “what? really?” you nodded.

it was a deep decision to consider.

both options were beneficial to the both of you.

after long thought, he got up, making his way over to you and helping you onto your feet, his fingers intertwining with your fingers. “then promise you’ll teach me how to do that cool tripping trick you do with the knife?” he proposed, a small giggle coming out of you.

“of course.”

“good, now turn around and lets get to work.”

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ghoulodont · 1 year ago

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ive been thinking more about your ghouls and the difference of water vs fire dew and i think it would be kinda fun if the ghouls' magic just comes from their instruments

like of course dew's hands are warmer now, he was just playing the fire guitar

perhaps on tour, they have more magic than usual, but once tour ends, it starts to ebb as they dont play as long or as often

dew definitely plays more in the winter so he's got plenty of fire magic to warm up the pack

your concept of the ghouls is just so intriguing and i like to rotate it in my brain

which ghouls do you think are sticklers for oral hygiene and which don't get the point until they learn the hard way through a cavity or four?

this is so interesting because what i had been thinking about (not sure if i ever shared it) is pretty similar. i was going to say their elemental traits (im not ready for them to have actual magic that they can control, just subtle things) are due to their ability/knowledge of each of the roles. one of the core concepts of how i think of summoning (i.e. creation from nothing, not being taken from some other place) is that they are sort of preloaded with knowledge about necessary things, which would be 1. their role in the band and 2. some of the basic understanding of the world that an adult is expected to have (but not all, just enough to function basically). so my summoning ritual does involve elements as a way to choose what your new ghoul knows how to do, and then i was thinking maybe it also creates some minor element related traits (cold hands). but i wanted dew to have fire traits so maybe it works dynamically as well.

something thats important to me about my lore is that the ghouls arent restricted in a major way. i guess im not even sure how this works for other people, can a fire ghoul play the bass? what would happen? and despite how much i love other peoples work about dews transition i didnt want it to be something 100% innate to his being. honestly im not sure anymore why i was so adamant about some of these things. i guess it just wasnt the kind of experience i felt like exploring, and im sensitive about concepts like free will and autonomy and such. anyway blur turns to haze is my elemental transition story, or a response to the concept.

so what im saying is i really like your idea. i think it evokes the same freedom to change oneself as desired that i was talking about. also i love that it ties into the idea of concerts as rituals, like the performance itself empowers them.

about teeth: i think dew is the kind of guy who (in addition to a strict routine) will brush his teeth at random times because he just feels like he needs to. and i think he would floss rains teeth for him if he was feeling too lazy to do it (sorry is that insane idk whats gotten into me lately). i think tooth decay has a genetic component to it so im not sure there would be a strong correlation hygiene and cavities as long as everyone does at least ok at brushing, especially since theyre chronologically so "young" despite being developed adults. honestly this is very interesting and not something ive thought a lot about because its not my area of teeth expertise. i might get back to you on this one.

also you might be interested in this post from @midnight-moth about phantom eating cereal

#you flatter me. im glad youre interested and i like having a reason to talk about it #ghoul philosophy

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smutsonian · 4 years ago

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Hello love 😺 umm can u pls please please write dark!steve x reader, where he bully and verbally harrases the reader but somehow kind of love her but just treat her bad and degrade her but when someone else tryna make her fun of her then he shows who she belongs to kinda stuff (pls if u gonna write pls make it so it so dark🥺🥺)...... Feel free to ignore tho cause i'm sorry this seems so long 😬😬🧡

2/2 Hey it's me again 👋👋😬who just send u a request of a long one shot of dark steve rogers x reader where he bullys her but i just forget to tell u that can u pls make that a Highschool AU pls , i really forget to tell u 😬😬

bully

steve rogers x reader

summary: Steve bullies you after you rejected him and he soon regrets it.

warnings: dark, non-con, violence, bullying, blood, self hatred, insecurities, psychological trauma, they are of age, please don’t read if you’re not comfortable with any of these. Not proofread.

word count: 1.7k

a/n: just wanted to post something so this may or may not suck

masterlist

Steve wasn’t always a bully.

It’ll probably be because you hurt his ego.

Maybe he asked you out one time but you were new in school and wary of people so you politely declined his offer.

For Steve, he saw that as you humiliating him in front of the school. The new girl just rejected the Steve Rogers.

Steve would be like ‘who do you think you are?’ and the cheeky flirty guy he was before becomes someone else.

He started spitting insults here and there, never missing a day to make you feel weird about yourself.

The soft and beautiful blue eyes from before turned dark and hostile towards you.

Sweet words turned harsh.

Flaws that you didn’t see before started surfacing.

Suddenly your hair is too messy and all over the place. Your skin is too dead and it makes you look creepy. Your eyes are too dull and sad that you don’t seem friendly anymore. Your nose is weird, and so on. The list never ended and you started to change from the person you are before.

Steve made sure to make you feel the way you made him feel.

You suddenly became closed off and did everything to be unnoticed. It’s better to be a nobody than be the center of everyone’s torment.

Steve is a popular guy and it didn’t take long for everyone to follow his lead.

You’re just trying to finish your last year and finally leave the hell you created for yourself but Steve swore to make your life a living hell.

“If it isn’t my favorite dead girl!” Steve’s voice booms through the hallway, the chatters immediately stopped to witness the popular guy, and now, the loser of the whole school interact.

“Got somewhere else to be?” His voice was sweet as well as his eyes but you know, everyone knows that his intentions are far from being sweet.

“What? Your tongue isn’t working anymore? Bet it rot with your dead body and now everything is decaying with you, is that it?” He raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for his friends to back him up which they did. Steve smirked as the hallway started being filled with thunderous laughter and they’re all directed at you.

You did nothing but bite your lip in hopes of stopping yourself from crying in front of everyone. You can’t afford another round of teasing.

You fake a laugh before turning away from him and started heading to your last class.

Steve hated the way your eyes looked at his with nothing but sadness.

Your sadness wasn’t even directed at him but at yourself.

He just wanted to make you feel the way you made him feel so you can understand that the both of you belong to each other.

You’re fucking perfect and Steve is far from that. He might be the most popular guy in school but you were way out of his league so he had to bring you down just a little bit.

But it got out of hand.

He had no idea how to stop what he started but then something happened.

He was just on his way out of detention, the hallways are now empty, everyone has already gone home and Steve was used to that. What he wasn’t used to is the sound of whimpering. More importantly, it’s the sound of you whimpering.

He wasted no time and ran towards the direction of your voice and as he turned the corner, his blood turned red hot in seconds. He’s seeing nothing but red at the sight in front of him.

Mrs. Roberts asked you to come to her office before going home to discuss something and you didn’t know whether to cry because of sadness or cry because someone actually cares for you.

Mrs. Roberts shared her worries with you because your once impressive grades started pummeling down to the point where it can cause problems with your chances of graduating.

Mrs. Roberts gave you special assignments to do so you can pass her subject and you thanked her for that. You even hugged her so tightly and dwelled on the affection for too long which worried her.

“Is there something wrong, dear?” She asked, eyes glossing over yours with worry.

You decided against telling her and just shook your head at her. “Do you think I’m failing my other subjects? What if I don’t graduate in time?”

Mrs. Roberts was quick to calm you down, telling you how the meeting with the teachers went and even joked about you purposely failing only her subject which you laughed at.

You left her office with a smile, chuckling at the memories of her jokes when you suddenly felt an impact on your left side and then your right side when you hit the lockers with a loud bang, making you whimper in pain.

“The fuck are you laughing at, dead girl?” An unfamiliar voice says above you.

You look up to see a boy a year younger than you but before you could reply, his foot started meeting your abdomen, your sides, or whatever part of you that he could kick. At some point, he was able to kick your face which made your ears ring in pain so you decided to shield your head with your arms to block his kicks.

“I don’t know why Steve never did this before but I am doing it for him. He’ll be so proud of me! I can take over his place after he graduates.”

You didn’t even realize that you weren’t receiving his kicks anymore but the sound of kicks can still be heard.

You peak out of your arms to see the young boy’s body across from you on the floor, receiving hits from a large man above him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, punk?!” Steve’s voice growls in anger and you didn’t know if you were thankful that you weren’t on the receiving end of his growl but it still terrified you.

“M-making you proud! I’m doing the thing you can’t seem to do!” The younger boy spits out red liquid before scrambling away after Steve pulls him up by his collar.

“If I fucking see you touch her again, you’ll never be able to see a day again, you understand?” Steve pushes the boy away before looking back at you, all the anger on his face turns into something softer.

He scrambles towards you, kneeling before you and helping you so gently until your leaning on the lockers, heaving at the pain that the boy caused you.

Steve continued to stare at you, eyes observing you before his hands gently prodded your face.

“You’re bleeding…” He murmurs before pulling out a cloth and dabbing it softly on the wound, apologizing when you flinched at his touch which surprised you.

“W-what are you doing?” Your voice trembles and Steve only sighed in response, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Why did you have to reject me?” He asked, carefully putting a band-aid over the scar and kissing it so gently with his pink lips. You stared at him in shock and confusion.

“Wh-What the f-fuck?!” You try to push him off but he only gripped both of your wrists with one hand while the other caress your face.

“We would’ve been so happy together. You would’ve had a great experience but you always manage to put yourself in danger… Why didn’t you just let me in?” The hand on your face goes to the back of your neck and your struggles were no use when he easily pulled you into a kiss, his tongue easily forcing itself into your mouth and coating and mixing your saliva with his.

“I should’ve not given up but you… you hurt me, ya know?” He pulls away before admiring your face.

“I lied though. You’ve always been so beautiful. I just wanted you to give me a chance but then you started avoiding me more.” His jaw clenches before his grip on your wrists tighten.

His other hand goes under your shirt before fondling your breasts through your bra. He leans in towards your neck before sniffing and moaning as he continues to massage your breasts while his hips started to grind against yours in need.

He growls against your neck as his grind started to get violently fast.

“Ahh fuck!” His hips stopped before he’s shaking against your body.

Your eyes widened at him as you looked down at the front of his pants which now had a stain on the crotch area.

“D-did you just—”

“See what you do to me?” He laughs before kissing your lips once more, the hand on your breasts trailing down before he forces it down your pants and under your panties to feel your core with his big hands.

His fingers make a quick swipe up your slit making you shiver at the feeling of him on your sensitive area.

“And I see what I do to you…” He inserts one finger, groaning at the way your walls are tightening around just one finger.

Steve swore he could cum again at the thought of his cock entering your very tight pussy.

“We didn’t start strong but we have all the time in the world now…” He places a kiss wet on your lips, continuing his assault on your core while his thumb finds its way to your clit.

Steve enjoys the way your hips jolted at the feeling and he smiled.

“I will help you graduate with honors and then after that,” he pulls back from the kiss before smiling at you.

“We’ll start over. I’m never leaving you again. I’m never going to give up on you. We’ll finally have what we both deserved.” He feels your walls fluttering around his one finger so he added another, thumb flicking your nub harder, forcing you to release.

“Mmm!” You bit your bottom lip as an orgasm was forced out of you, pleasure showering you as your eyes shut tightly.

“So fucking beautiful…” Steve pulls his hand out of your jeans before quickly placing his fingers inside his mouth to taste you.

“So fucking delicious as well.” He helps you up carefully before guiding you out of the school and into his car.

“I’ll drive you to school and from school from now on. There won’t be a time when I’m not watching over you. I’ll protect you from now on. I’m going to right every wrong thing I did to you, baby…” He leans down to kiss your lips then your head before fixing your seatbelt for you and starting the car.

“Everything will be better now.”

----

a/n: been trying to write but it’s just not working rn but im trying to come thru hehe

taglist

General: @readermia @unlikelygalaxygiver @xoxabs88xox @anncutamarica @chaoticfiretaconerd @i-love-superhero @caffiend-queen @coconutqueen21 @jtargaryen18 @jennmurawski13 @mushyjellybeans @ninjabucky @evnscvll @buckstaybucky @donutloverxo @rebloggingeverything @adriannajackson @la-cey @awaywithtime @gotnofucks @empath-bunny @belovedcherry @littlegasps

Anything Chris: @patzammit @princess-evans-addict @shadowcatsworld @notyourtypicalrose @onetwo3000 @bluemusickid @heyiamthatbitch @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @slytherinandoutasgard

Chris and seb: @harrysthiccthighss

Marvel: @jemzeraion

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #dark fic #high school au #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark!fic #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader

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didnt-want-to-be-a-halfblood · 4 years ago

Text

Kitten Me This

Heyyyy, so I know some people that have weak wifi connection and can’t access Ao3 so I decided to post my fic here, too.

Summary: "No, no, you don't understand. Lou..." Will took a deep breath, petting the cat gingerly as if afraid it would suddenly shatter in his hands. "This is Nico."

"Nico... di Angelo? Your boyfriend, Nico? Son of Hades? That Nico?"

"Yes! That Nico! He's been turned into a cat!"

***

"Lou! LOUUU!" Shouted Will as he practically broke down the door to the Hecate cabin.

"What??" Lou Ellen opened the door, irritation evident on her face. Her dark hair was rumpled, and her winged eyeliner was slightly smudged on one side as if she'd just woken up from a mid-afternoon nap. "You do realize that this cabin is built with magical stones? If you dislodged one with all your yelling and banging-"

"Yes, I could explode or turn into a tree- That's not important!" He moved past her and collapsed dramatically onto the nearest bed. "This is an emergency! Look!" He lifted up a small bundle of black fur.

"What's that?" Lou Ellen stepped closer to examine the bundle. The fur twitched and two brown eyes looked back at her. "A kitten? Did you bother me during meditation-"

"You weren't meditating, you were sleeping-"

"-To try and get me to take care of this scruffy thing? Will, my cabin is too dangerous to house an animal like this. It'd be getting into potions, ruining spells, and my younger siblings will try and do transformation experiments on it. Leave it here and it'll be a piglet by tomorrow."

"No, no, you don't understand. Lou..." Will took a deep breath, petting the cat gingerly as if afraid it would suddenly shatter in his hands. "This is Nico."

"Nico... di Angelo? Your boyfriend, Nico? Son of Hades? That Nico?"

"Yes! That Nico! He's been turned into a cat!" Will set the kitten on the bed, and the little guy stretched before laying down, curling up into a perfect little fuzzy black circle. It was admittedly a super cute cat.

"Are you sure that's Nico?" Lou Ellen hesitantly reached out to pet the kitten. Immediately, the cat perked its head up and hissed at her. It wasn't particularly scary, but she got the message: No touching.

"It's okay, Nico." Will cooed. "This is Lou Ellen? Remember her? She's our friend." He gently ran his fingers through its fur and cat-Nico began to purr softly.

"Okay, maybe he is Nico." She admitted. "What happened, exactly?"

Will shrugged, "We were sitting by the campfire, just talking! And I was like 'Oh, by the way I was thinking instead of going to normal lunch today maybe we could go someplace special to celebrate our anniversary.' And I searched through my bag to find my coupons for 'Benedetta's Pasta' which is this Italian pasta place in New York, and okay yeah it's not the fanciest pasta place in the world, but they do have a guy who knows how to play Taylor Swift songs on accordion and-"

"William. Focus." Lou Ellen snapped her fingers. "The longer this takes the harder it could be to transform him back."

"RIght! Uh, and when I looked up Nico was gone! And this little guy was sitting on the log, just staring at me!"

"You didn't see anything else?"

"No, I was looking for coupons."

"No magic sparks or incantations or flashes of light?"

"No, I was busy looking for coupons!!"

"Will, there's only so much I can do if I don't know how he turned into a cat. He needs the same kind of magic used to transform him into this to transform him back."

"Oh gods." Will put his head in his hands. "You're the most powerful, talented sorcerer we have at camp. If you can't do it then it's hopeless." Will sniffed as if beginning to cry.

Lou Ellen sighed. "You really think I'm the most powerful?"

"And smart, too." Will pouted up at her, hitting her with puppy-dog eyes. "If anyone can figure out how to save Nico, it's you."

"Ugh, fine. Alright. Let's talk to the satyrs and nymphs. They can talk to animals. Maybe Nico himself can tell us what happened."

So, the daughter of Hecate and the son of Apollo walked through the forest until they wound up by the riverbank. All things considered, it was a beautiful day. Hopefully the day was perfect enough that all the nymphs would be in a good mood and willing to help. Will stepped forward and cleared his throat.

"Hi! Hello! Um, I was wondering if someone could help us? We're trying to communicate with this cat." Will lifted the black kitten above his head like baby Simba in the Lion King movie.

No response.

"Please?" Will tried again. "He's actually my boyfriend and I'd really like him to not be a cat anymore by the end of the day, y'know? Isn't there anyone here who knows what it's like to be in love? To have that love taken away from you?"

No response. No movement. The trees and bushes and plant life didn't say a word.

Lou Ellen put a comforting hand on his shoulder and smiled sweetly. "Why don't you let me try?"

"Sure."

"Hey!" Lou Ellen shouted harshly. "Listen up! This here is a child of Apollo! If someone doesn't give us five minutes of their time then he's going to start reciting some of his dad's greatest poems of the 20th century! And Apollo wrote a lot of haikus in the 80s." It was definitely spoken as a threat.

The trees and bushes began to rustle as if talking with one another. Will nodded to Lou Ellen in approval. They waited for about two minutes before she spoke again.

"Okay, Will! That's it! From the top, the poetry reading begins now! Don't say I didn't warn you all-"

"Wait!" Juniper hastily walked toward them. "I'm here! It's okay, everyone. I'm here now!"

"Hey, Juniper!" Will smiled, happy to see a friendly face. "What's up?"

"Will." She smiled back. "I was just out talking to Rosemary. She needed relationship advice." Then her voice dropped to a whisper. "A lot of shrubs are envious of my stable relationship with Grover. They find most satyrs to be... unreliable in showing consistent affection. Grover and I? We're the satyr-nymph power couple. I'm kind of like the local marriage counselor nowadays."

"And I'm sure you're wonderful at it." Will said sincerely. "Can you talk to cats?"

"Hmm, well, my feline might be a little rusty. We mostly get squirrels and birds out here, but I'll see what I can do!"

"That's all I ask." Will leaned down and carefully set cat-Nico on the ground. The kitten curiously sniffed at the grass.

"Cute little guy." Juniper grinned. "Tell me little one, what's your name? How did you come to be like this?" The cat gave a little meow-squeak in response. "I see..."

"What?" Will looked back and forth between Juniper and his feline boyfriend. "Does he not remember who he is?"

"They go by the title 'The Ruler of All Darkness.' Claims to have come to the mortal realm to 'incite fear into my enemies.'"

"Nico is always so dramatic..."

"You're one to talk." Lou Ellen rolled her eyes.

"Juniper, can you ask him if he remembers me?"

Juniper asked.

"'Yes, the one who smells of sunshine. Indeed, he is tolerable.' And... something about being worried you're going to abandon it?"

"What, just because he's a cat now? Nico, I would never!" Will leaned down and let the kitten nuzzle his hand. "Neeks, we're going to change you back. And- and if for some reason we can't, that's... that's okay. Alright? You'll stay with me, you'll be the most pampered and taken care of cat in the whole world. You..." Will got choked up at this point. "So what if the love of my life is a cat now? So what if... if... We can't do any of the things we planned to do together? So what if at the most you'll only live to be another twenty years?" Will started actively sobbing. "I won't abandon you. Ever. I'm sorry, Neeks. I should've payed attention. I should've stopped this from happening. I should've-"

"It's okay, WIll." Lou Ellen hugged him. "Shh, it's okay. Maybe we still don't know how to change him back yet, but we will. I promise."

Will leaned into her and cried. "This is all my fault."

Juniper joined in on the hug. "I can ask around and see if any of the nymphs saw what happened. We have eyes and ears everywhere, surely someone saw something..."

And who knows how long Will would've kept crying when suddenly they all froze at the sound of a familiar voice.

"There you are!" Nico's voice rang out from behind them. "Will, I've been looking everywhere for you!"

They turned slowly to face a very human, very not-a-cat Nico di Angelo. He was dressed in a nicely tailored suit and his hair had been neatly brushed. He was holding a bouquet of flowers, but they were beginning to wilt as Nico's anxiousness caused them to decay.

"Why... why is everyone crying?" Nico awkwardly tugged on his suit. "Why are you guys looking at me like that?"

"Nico! You're- you're human!" Will stood up, glancing down at the kitten.

"How nice of you to notice." Nico said sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I mean..." Will frantically looked to Juniper. "But he said 'Ruler of All Darkness.'"

"Hmm... To be fair, most cats talk that way."

"She said." Lou Ellen corrected, examining the cat, much to the kitten's displeasure.

"What?" Will asked.

"She. This cat is female. Animal transformations can sometimes change the sex of the person in question, but not usually. That's, like, basic shapeshifting 101."

"I..."

"Can someone explain to me what's going on?" Nico crossed his arms. "Will, I thought you wanted to go out for lunch? We're going to be late."

"Uhh." Will took the cat from Lou Ellen. "I got us this cat for our anniversary!" The black kitten stared at Nico and gave a pitiful meow.

"You what?" Nico sighed. "I tell you 'Hey, babe, give me five minutes and I'll shadow-travel to Italy to find us a real Italian restaurant for lunch.' And I come back to find this?"

"Ohh, is that what you said? I didn't hear you exactly because I was... busy looking for coupons." Will sheepishly avoided eye-contact with Lou Ellen. Still, he could feel her death glare.

"Will, I love you, but you are not using coupons at a restaurant for our anniversary. I'm rich. Just let me pay." Nico walked up to Will and traded him the flowers for the kitten. "Where did you even find this thing?"

"Uhh..."

The kitten reached out a paw and booped Nico on the nose. It gave another soft meow.

"Oh,' Juniper giggled. "She said, 'You smell like death. Perhaps we shall form an alliance, bathe in the blood of our enemies. Together, we can destroy them all.'"

"You got us a homicidal kitten?" Nico laughed. Gods Will loves it when Nico laughs.

"Only the best for you, babe." Will casually winked, ignoring his eyes were slightly swollen from crying.

Lou Ellen huffed. "I'm going back to bed. Will, you useless homosexual, you owe me." She marched away. Juniper politely nodded to Will and Nico before following suit. She probably had more couples counseling to do.

"C'mon, Solace. Let's get you dressed. We can go shopping for our newest little family member after lunch." Nico cooed at the kitten and she snuggled up against him. "Or maybe we can sneak her into the restaurant. Would you like that, piccolina?" Nico proceeded to call her a series of cutesy names that Will didn't understand.

"Nico?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"Interesting. You know what, Will?"

"What?"

"I love you, too." Nico gave him a peck on the cheek. "C'mon, let's go..." They walked together in silence for a moment. "So, you thought I turned into a cat, huh?"

"Okay, in my defense, weirder things have happened!! It was a perfectly reasonable conclusion to come to, alright!! You absolutely would've done the same thing-"

"Ha! Yeah, right-"

"You totally would have! Look, I'm just saying-"

The End.

#my fic #solangelo #Nico di Angelo #Will Solace #lou ellen blackstone #juniper #pjo #toa #hoo

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your-eternal-muse · 4 years ago

Text

Home

Summery: After months of being held against your will, you escape into the world, and await for the moment when you can return home.

Warnings: Mentions of abduction, vague mentions of abuse, talk of injury, thoughts of giving up, mentions of weight loss

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Words: 2.5k

Authors Note: Wow. It’s been a hot fucking minute huh? Sorry for taking so long. I was moving and unpacking, and getting situated and than I got a new job and so many other things. This is the piece that got me back into the writing flow, so that's fun. I am still working on requests, and while they may not be posted in the order that I received them, they still will be posted. I will also be posting little one shots in between them as well, because my brain doesn’t know when to fucking stop. I missed you guys. I hope you’re all doing well. Also I’m at 950 followers??? That’s insane. I don’t believe it. Anyway, enjoy!

I run.

I run through gaps in between trees, stepping on sticks, ducking under branches.

Every muscle, every bone in my body is screaming at me to stop. To give up, fall to the ground and curl up at the base of a tree and give in to the darkness.

But I can’t.

I can’t stop running, not until I know I’m safe.

Not until I’m home.

The air is brisk, and the leaves crunching underneath my bare feet are different shades of decay.

The sunlight breaking through the canopy does little to tell me what time of day it is, or even what direction I’m going.

So I just run.

Away from the little wooden house where I’ve been beaten almost everyday for who knows how long.

I’ve lost count of the days.

But I got lucky.

He’s always gone during the day, and I’ve lost enough weight so I could slip my wrists through the zip tie that had me bound.

I’m losing stamina, but I keep pushing forward.

Please, god, give me something, anything.

I stumble through a wall of brush, falling to the gravel ground of the side of the road.

A road.

I push myself up, my steps stuttering as I gain my back my balance.

I turn my head, looking both ways down the seemingly deserted road, and I now believe in a mighty being above because I see gas pumps not even a half a mile down the road from where I’m standing.

I start running as fast as I can, limping every other step, trying to pick up a speed my body has forgotten.

My heart is pounding in my chest, and every breath feels like it’s being ripped out of me, but I couldn’t stop now even if I wanted to.

I turn into the gravel driveway of the station speeding towards the front door, barreling inside, heaving for air as I turn and lock the deadbolt on the door.

I flip the sign from open to closed for good measure, before slipping down to the floor in a heap.

“Oh sweet baby jesus above, darling what happened to you?” A woman runs out from behind the counter, crouching down next to me pushing dirty matted hair out of my face, hands running gently over my exposed skin.

My voice is hoarse, and my throat burns when I speak.

“I’m Supervisory Special Agent y/n y/l/n of the Behavioral Analysis unit of the F.B.I.” I let my head fall back against the glass of the door. “I don’t, I don’t have my badge otherwise I would show you.”

Her eyes are deep green, and kind. Worry creases her already wrinkled face, and her skin looks soft and loose.

“Oh honey, it’s okay. I believe you. Can you tell me what happened?”

Tears start to form in my eyes and I can’t seem to move anymore. “I was abducted by someone we were chasing in May, and I just escaped.”

A hand comes to cover her mouth.

“I really need to use your phone to contact my team.”

She couldn’t be older than 50, with long dirty blonde hair starting to gray at the roots.

I couldn’t help but feel the trust swarm my chest, too tired to put up walls anymore.

“Oh of course, honey. Let me help you behind the counter, and we’ll get you all set.”

She gingerly helped me back to my feet, wrapping my arm over her shoulders to help me sit on a stool behind the counter.

She makes sure I’m set sturdy on the seat, before handing me a landline from beside the till.

“You use that to call however many people you want, and I’m gonna go get you some water and something to eat.”

She starts to walk away but she snaps her fingers and turns around, grabbing something from the counter and draping it over my shoulders.

It was a fuzzy winter jacket.

“It’s almost November, you’re probably freezing too.”

Her accent is a gentle southern, like a grandma who makes peach cobbler and gives the best hugs.

I shove my arms through the sleeves, zipping it up to my chin.

Almost November.

It’s October.

I’ve been gone for five months.

October, and I’m wearing shorts and a ripped tank top.

I look down at the landline and take a breath to steady my trembling hands before dialing the number I know by heart.

Three rings, and he picks up.

“This is Doctor Spencer Reid.”

I start to sob at the sound of his voice, a voice I never thought I’d be able to hear again.

I start to collapse within on myself.

“Hello?”

I haven’t said anything.

I take a breath, wiping my nose on the back of my hand before speaking.

“Hey, Spence.”

It’s silent, and I can faintly hear the sound of something crashing to the floor.

“Y-Y/n?”

“Jesus, I never thought I’d get to hear your voice again.”

“Where are you? Are you safe? Is he there?” He’s frantic, his voice rushed and high.

“I don’t know where I am, but I’m safe. I’m at some gas station. A nice woman is helping me.”

I lick my lips and I can taste the saltiness of my snot. “I got out.”

“Penelope, I need you to trace this call right now.”

“What? Why? What happened?”

He has it on speaker, and I openly sob at the twinkle of her voice.

“Penelope…” is all I can muster, but it’s enough to hear her gasp, and then her own sob.

“Hold on tight sweet girl! We’re coming!”

I hear typing, and background voices getting louder.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Derek?” I gasp, bringing a hand to the center of my chest and grasping the fabric tight in my hands.

I lean back against the wall as the woman comes up with bottles of water, and bags of different foods.

Tears stream down my face, and the woman pushes hair out of my face, pinning it back with clips from her own hair.

“Is that you stud muffin?” I hope he hears the small smile in my voice.

I hear a shaky breath. “Yeah it’s me sweetheart.”

“I got her! She's a few miles outside of Chattanooga Tennessee!”

Tennessee? How the hell did I get to Tennessee?

“Derek, go tell the others. We’ll meet you at the jet.”

I hear shuffling on the other end as I break the seal on the water, before taking a long, much needed gulp.

“Are you still there y/n?” His voice is laced with concern, and I can picture the crease above his brows, the shakiness of his hands.

“I’m here.”

“You stay right there, okay? Don’t move. We're on our way.”

The woman hands me a box of tissues, and I take a few wiping my eyes, but my cheeks stay wet.

“God, I missed your voice.”

A moment of silence, and I know he’s trying to collect himself on the other end of the phone, trying to stay strong for me.

“I missed yours too. I called your phone every day just to listen to your voice. I probably left a thousand voicemails.”

The woman opens a bag of chips for me, before kneeling and pulling out a first aid kit from below the counter.

“I thought about you every day. About your voice. Your smile. I just wanted you to walk through the door and say some weird statistic and we’d fly off into the sunset.”

I can hear him choke back tears and all I want to do is hold him, like his pain is somehow my own.

“I tried. I tried so hard, but you had disappeared without a trace. But I never stopped. I would never stop looking for you.”

“I know, Spence. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you, and I never will.”

Muffled voices in the background and he sniffles. “I have to hang up, baby. We’re taking off. We’ll be there in a little under two hours okay?”

Two hours.

“Okay. Please hurry.” I close my eyes, picturing his smile in my mind. “I miss you.”

“We will. I love you. See you soon. Hang on.”

The line goes dead, and I bring the phone slowly back down from my ear, hanging up.

I take a chip and pop it in my mouth.

The woman stands in front of me, and with a cotton pad with alcohol, starts to clean at the cuts on my face.

“What’s your name?” I ask, feeling bad, that in the 20 minutes I’ve been here already, I hadn’t even stopped to ask.

“Luanne, sweetpea. It seems like you got a lot of people that care about you.”

I nod my head, popping another chip into my mouth. “My team. They’re my family. We were on a case in Chicago in May when…”

Bile starts to form at the back of my throat, but I shove it back down with another swig of water.

I lick my lips, trying to get rid of the sting of the salt in the cracks. “Thank you. For helping me. I know you didn’t have to but-”

“Sweetpea,” she holds my face in her hands, wiping away the tears that are still falling. “You have been through hell and back again. You deserve all the kindness in the world.” She pulls me into herself, and I nuzzle my face into the fabric of her shirt.

It smells like lavender.

“You’re safe now. Any bastard that tries to come in is going to have to go through me first.”

I clutch onto her shirt, basking in the first kind human touch I’ve had in months.

She smooths down my hair, soft and slow, and I listen to the heartbeat in her chest.

“You know, you remind me so much of my daughter. She looks soft on the outside, but she’s one hell of a fighter. I think you’d both get along rather swell.”

She stands, and just holds me, running her fingers through my hair, as I soak her shirt with my tears.

I’m never going to forget her, forget this.

I will spend every day of the rest of my life trying to repay this woman's kindness anyway I can.

Thank you, will never be thanks enough.

Flashing lights appear outside the window.

~~~

I’m tired.

My eyes burn with every blink and there’s an insistent pounding matching the beating of my heart inside my skull.

It hurts to breathe.

It hurts to move.

I’m freezing.

I tighten the blanket around me as medics move around me, getting things ready for when I’ll finally cave and agree to go to the hospital.

But I can’t leave.

I won’t leave.

Not yet.

The red and blue lights don’t help the migraine swimming behind my eyes, and everyone is talking too loud.

Why is everyone talking so loud?

My eyes look across the darkening parking lot, and Luanne is leaning against the hood of a cop car, her hands in her pockets, and she smiles at me, her hair blowing softly in the cold October wind.

But I hear fast paced tires on gravel, and my eyes move from her to the two black SUVS pulling into the lot.

I’m moving.

Thoughts aren’t even processing in my brain, my neurons are stagnant. I’m moving on pure instinct.

The car door opens before it’s even stopped, and the blanket falls from my shoulders in a heap on the floor of the ambulance.

Time is an illusion.

It’s completely stopped as my feet meet the gravel, and I push the dirt behind me, moving towards the one person I thought about whenever I got the chance.

It’s just me and him, moving towards one another, two unstoppable forces about to test Newton's law.

My eyes start at his feet.

His pants fall over the top of his chuck taylors, and I’m positive two different socks sit below them.

Higher.

Closer.

His hips.

He’s not wearing a belt. His holster is crooked. He was in a rush.

Higher.

Closer.

His chest.

His vest is missing. His tie is loose, and the top couple of buttons are undone.

I can see his collar bones.

Higher.

Closer.

His neck, the bobbing adam's apple.

Higher.

Closer.

His lips, pursed.

His nose, red.

Highest.

Here.

His eyes.

Deep hazel, honey surrounding darkened pupils, and I fly into his arms.

Ice melts.

My head clears.

I wrap my arms around his neck, shoving my face into his shoulder, inhaling like it is my first breath.

My feet aren’t on the ground anymore.

He holds me, tightly against him, hands splayed across my back, his own face buried into my neck.

Our heart beats sync. For a moment, we're one.

And then time seems to start again, and I pull back, eyes bleary, and I grab his face, crashing my lips to his in a desperate plea.

He breaths into me, and I know, for certain, for the first time in months, that I am safe.

I am home.

We break, and our tears mix on cold cheeks, and I can’t stop looking at him, touching him, feeling the fabric of his jacket beneath my fingertips, the growth of his stomach beneath my own.

“I love you, I love you so much, oh my god.” His hands are all over me. My face, my neck, my arms.

I never thought I’d get to touch him again, get to feel him, get to kiss him.

“You’re here. I love you. You’re here.” Is all I can manage as I bring his face to mine again.

I played out entire scenes where we did exactly this inside my head while that man did whatever he wanted to me.

I had all the things I wanted to say inside my head, but now that it’s real, now that it’s forged into reality, words fail.

Nothing I can or want to say means anything at this moment.

Nothing matters other than me and him.

A new hand is on my shoulder, and I lift my head to see Hotch.

And so I am passed, from person to person, being held and squeezed and kissed and cried on until everyone has felt the breath leave my lungs, and I have felt the warmth of their skin.

I return to Spencer, and he drapes his coat over my shoulders and zips it up to my chin, before the medics walk over.

They don’t say anything, and they don’t need to.

I simply grab his hand and start moving towards the ambulance.

“We’ll meet you at the hospital.” Hotch's voice is stern, and soft at the same time.

I nod, and climb into the back, Spencer right behind me.

The medics get to work, and I feel my eyes droop, feeling his hand in mine.

He brings it up to his lips, pressing a kiss against each knuckle. “It’s okay. You can rest now. You’ve fought long enough.”

I smile at him, watching the tears stream down his cheeks.

I succumb to the darkness.

Permanent Tag List: @criminalcowboy @pinkdiamond1016 @eternityofaxiom @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @marvels-gurl @theamuz @write-from-the-heart @sungieeeeeee @mjloveskids666 @chococerealmilk @itzsoff @gia-kerks @doctorspencereid @imsuperawkward @andreasworlsboring101 @itsmoony @cielo1984 @heistmaster69 @nevvvv @theseuscmander @complementaryvacuum @waywardswain @lindaze @urie-bowie-mercury @spencerreidsimptime @holding-on-to-my-youth

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x Female!Reader #Spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #derek morgan #penelope garcia #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader

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freeing-the-man · 4 years ago

Note

I'd LOVE to learn anything about the Xen flora! Honestly, all of Xen fascinates me, it's a very interesting place :]

Keep in mind I'm not a biologist or anything fhirrhrjgeb I'm just going off my faint memory of it and my guesses, plus it's not like I even remember enough to qualify for being a doctor anymore.

There were different 'biomes' in Xen some being more 'Earth-like' -- though not really, just it had similar plant structures and such. most places were pretty open, other than the cascades and such, it wasn't flat, but it was open. Lots of different structures built into rocks.

Xenium --commonly known as 'Xen crystals'-- had almost different 'forms'? They varied a lot. They wouldn't have an actual pigment, the pigment they did have was because of how it reflected and refracted light, most commonly seen as having a yellow appearance.

Different kinds of Xenium also grew and broke differently. I'm unsure of the specifics on how they classify something as Xenium or not, I just knew what was and wasn't, to some vague degree.

Xen had a much lower gravity, but still ! Was a habitable environment -- other than all the creatures and potential bacteria around--

Some places seemed to have had a more noticeable amount of gravity than others? If that makes sense, which I can see why to some degree. The fact there's so many floating areas that- stay in the same spot, in comparison to the rest; *with* oxygen and such is an anomaly to me.

I can also go into specifics about fauna and flora, such as; the Xen 'trees' and light stalks!!

And so I will, since you did specify, but since you liked Xen as a whole, so I thought I would go into some other things as well first.

A lot of Xen 'flora' acted more similarly to fungi than it did plant-life, which was very fascinating!

Keep in mind, when I say tree, I'm just going for what they're called in the game, in real life by the time I made it to Xen I didn't name a lot of things. As I had no reason to, I only named the things I would see and that others might see. Which is why there's a lot of names such as head-crabs, hound-eyes, bull-squid, etc. We all just named everything as self explanatory as we could, for those who didn't know the actual scientific names for them, we just needed it to explain what we saw so there would be a quick, safe, and easy understanding of it.

--side note: they're also the way they are because that's- the literal translation of what I was signing headcrab; a crab like creatures that- well, latched onto your head. I would sign crab and do a swooping motion to my head, like it was a crab, jumping at my head. You get the idea.

The 'tentacles' and the 'trees' acted extremely similar? The same goes for their structure, and how they acted.

Correct me if I've used any of the terms incorrectly! Again I'm not a biologist.

As I've put it in the past:

Many of the 'plants' in Xen were more Fungi-like than actual plant-like. Including how they feed! Fungi are heterotrophic; Fungi are not able to ingest their food like animals do, nor can they manufacture their own food the way plants do. Instead, fungi feed by absorbing the nutrients from the environment around them. Most fungi are saprophytes, feeding on dead or decaying material.

Xen light stalks seemed like they fed, and or reproduced through means of their 'bulb', often lightly swinging it around in the air. If something approached it, --seemingly by means of vibration(?)-- it would hide it's bulb and the bulb would seemingly stop glowing possibly to hide it, probably to keep it safe from predators. I think a lot of the energy went in the bulb; perhaps it took the energy in the bulb and transferred it to the part to hide quick? As means of saving energy --to both hide it, and stop the bulb from glowing-- though I find it unlikely. Either way, It's interesting that the Xen 'trees' did not harm them, and that the light-stalks seemed to thrive around the 'trees', it's like they used them as a means of protection, and an easy food source, but not stealing so much energy that the tree would kill them; it was some sort of symbiotic relationship; mutualistic or commensal. Either way, it's fascinating! The 'tree' would kill something and probably 'eat' that, and so would the light stalks.

At this point I'm rambling, I don't know much on this subject though it's still nice to think about going off faint memories and vague guesses. Again, do correct me or suggest other things as ideas come to mind.

I am very glad you guys are as interested in it as I am/was!!

And sorry for any grammatical errors fhdbdjdhd and for it taking so long to post, I procrastinate a lot.

#xen flora #xen #half life #long post #gordon post #light stalks #xen trees #memory ans

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spencersstrawberryjello · 3 years ago

Text

Inside Scoop (Chapter One)

Chapter One - The Greatest Regret of my Life

Previous Chapter < - > Next Chapter

Chapter Summary: Dahlia Silvers is on her way to work when she makes a horrifying discovery that will change her life... and lead to her getting tangled up with the Behavioral Analysis Unit.

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of corpse (violent death), police interactions (please let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 2417

A/N: Yay new story!! Ok, two quick things I need to mention before we get into it: one, I have absolutely no clue about the roads in DC and I merely listed two ones that I knew were on a corner. And two: I also have no clue where the Washington Post office is, and am not trying to make any claims about the company in any way, it’s just a reputable news place in DC so I wanted to use it for the story (please don’t sue me Jeff Bezos). Ok that’s all - hope you enjoy!! :)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was raining.

I knew we were supposed to get a short shower this morning, but I still groaned as I walked out into the disgusting downpour bombarding the streets of DC.

The only positive thing about days like this was the lack of people on the sidewalk. Generally everyone was dashing to the subway before they could get too soaked, but I only lived a few blocks from work. So I elected to walk.

Usually, that was fine. I had my umbrella, and I got into the office in about fifteen minutes, give or take a few. After that I got my writing assignments for that day within ten, and I got to work.

Usually.

The smell hit me first. Initially, I thought it was just rotten fruit, or something similar that someone had thrown out, but the closer I got the more it smelled rancid, impossible to describe.

The next thing I noticed was the bag.

The woman’s purse had been thrown from her hand. Or maybe it had fallen, I had no way of knowing. All I knew was that I saw it sitting on the sidewalk at the mouth of the alleyway I was about to walk past.

One of the greatest regrets of my life was picking up that purse.

Because when I picked it up, I had to turn and see who it belonged to. And that’s when I saw her.

I wasn’t sure how long the blood had been pooled around her body, but it was dried on the concrete. Her head was twisted at an unnatural angle, revealing the deep slash wound across her throat. Her hands were bloodied, and I had no way of knowing if it was her blood or someone else’s. All I knew was that this woman was dead, and there was no way in hell it was due to natural causes.

The combination of the sight in front of me and the smell of decay permeating the air sent a wave of nausea through my body, and my eyes watered as I turned away, vomiting on the sidewalk not far from where the woman laid. I fumbled to pull my phone out of my pocket, my hands shaking as I dialed 911.

“911 what’s your emergency?”

“Someone’s dead. It’s a woman, she - I was on my way to work, and I just found her - holy shit…”

“Ok ma’am, I’m going to need you to calm down please, everything will be ok. Can you tell us where you are right now?”

“Yeah, yes,” I forced myself to breathe, stepping out to the edge of the sidewalk in an attempt to read the street sign in front of me. “Right by the corner of 9th and G Street NW. There’s an alley a few feet away from the intersection. She’s…” I turned back to the woman’s body for a moment before forcing my eyes away again. “I don’t know what happened. It looks bad, I -”

“It’s ok ma’am. What is your name?”

“Dahlia. Dahlia Silvers.”

“Ok Dahlia. Is there anyone else with you? Or around you?”

I scanned my surroundings before responding shakily, “No.”

“Is the woman alive?”

“No.” I don’t know of anybody who could survive their throat being slashed.

“Ok. A team is on their way, but I need you to stay calm for me, ok?”

I nodded, despite the fact that she couldn’t see me. “Alright.”

“Good. Can you stay on the scene so that investigators can speak with you when they arrive?”

My first thought was that I was going to be late for work. It’s actually kind of funny, in retrospect, how unimportant that is compared to the discovery I just made. But the thought was still there.

“I think this would be a valid reason to call in sick.” I replied. The woman on the other end of the phone laughed lightly.

“Yes, I think it would. Would you like me to stay on the phone with you until the team arrives?”

“No, I’m just… I’m going to walk away a bit? Is that ok? I can’t… I mean, I’ve seen pictures and videos of stuff like this, but I didn’t think it would be so -”

“As long as you’re nearby, everything should be fine. It’s understandable that you would need to move away from the body.”

“Ok. Ok,” I took in another deep breath, “I’m ok.”

“A team should be there in a couple of minutes.”

The line went dead, and I sunk down against the wall of the building by the alley, far enough away that the smell of death couldn’t follow me. I felt like it was in my clothes, in my hair; for a second I thought I was going to throw up again, and I put my head in my hands, forcing myself to breathe until the investigators arrived on the scene. I had half a mind to realize that it wasn’t raining anymore, but I couldn’t be bothered to figure out where I’d dropped my umbrella. My clothes were sticking to my skin, and everything on my body felt viscerally wrong.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen images of dead people before; I was a young adult, and I liked movies. Obviously I was used to gore. But the stench… nothing could’ve prepared me for that.

I was surprised at the sheer number of people that showed up: I mean, there was a CSI van, which I expected, but a black car pulled up behind them, as well as two city police cars. Immediately, the CSI team got to work, and the rest of the people began piling out of their cars. The first person to take notice of me was one of the police officers, and he immediately made a beeline for where I was sitting on the sidewalk.

“Are you Dahlia Silvers? The woman who called in the body?” He asked. I nodded, and he held out his hand to me, helping me up on unsteady feet.

“Thank you.”

“‘Course. Now, I’d like to ask you a few questions if that’s ok?”

I nodded again, and he began a surprisingly long tirade of questions. Why was I passing by, where was I going, did I walk this street every day, what did I see first, did I touch anything on the scene, did I know the woman, had I seen anyone else - everything I should’ve expected but didn’t even think about in the wake of everything I’d just witnessed.

I answered accordingly: work, work, yes, the purse, the purse, no, no - I mentioned that the vomit was mine, and that I’d picked the purse up with the intent to return it to whoever dropped it. I mentioned that the first thing I picked up on was the smell, and that I had no idea what happened. Only that my day was perfectly normal, and then -

“Excuse me, officer?” A new voice cut into our conversation, a woman. I turned to look at her, noticing the FBI logo on her jacket immediately. “I’d like to speak with Ms. Silvers for a moment, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course Agent,” He nodded, rejoining the larger group that we were standing a bit away from. I knew he was still watching me, but I couldn’t be bothered to worry about my status on this case’s suspect list right now. I was still trying to process the fact that there was a fucking dead body about five feet away from me.

“Dahlia Silvers?” She asked, as if she didn’t already know. I nodded, and she smiled, introducing herself as well.

“I’m Special Agent Prentiss, I’m with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Immediately my brow furrowed with confusion. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Well, we study -”

“No, I’m sorry, I should’ve been clearer: I know what the BAU does. What is the BAU doing here, in DC?”

“We’re investigating a string of recent murders, and we believe that this one is most likely connected to the case.”

“... If there have been enough murders here that your team needed to come down, why aren’t any of the news stations covering it? I haven’t heard anything about this.”

“We’ve put a block on most of the press until we can gain a better understanding of the situation. I understand why you might feel betrayed by the media -”

“It’s not like that at all,” I rushed to correct her, not realizing I’d cut her off again, “I’m a journalist. I work for The Washington Post. Our office is like three blocks away, that’s where I was headed when - when I saw her.”

The woman nodded, a sympathetic expression on her face. “I’m sorry that you had to see all of this.”

“Thank you,” I gave her a small smile. I did appreciate it, but honestly, I’d recovered from the sight pretty quickly. I’d started working in crime journalism recently, and that came with it’s fair share of gruesome images and stories of tragedy flooding my computer. Hence the reason why my lack of knowledge on these murders was a concern. “I’m just confused as to why I didn’t hear about the murders, while working for a news site. It would make sense for a few stories to slip through, or for our CEO to announce something to us writers - how the hell did you manage a full media block?”

She laughed a bit at my bluntness, but said, “We got here very shortly after the first murder. We were able to restrict almost all stories about the event immediately.”

“Almost all? No, you guys got all of them - I have a keyword filter set up on Google to email me whenever a seemingly newsworthy event happens in the surrounding area, and I feel like ‘local murder’ would definitely count as newsworthy.”

“That’s… surprising, but it makes sense. Never underestimate the power of Jennifer Jareau - that’s our press liaison, she handles -”

“Oh yeah, I know her! I’ve spoken with her a few times when you guys have had cases in DC.”

“Right! Yeah, she’s great…” She got a sort of far-off look in her eye for a moment before she cleared her throat, “But that’s not what I’m here to talk to you about. I know that you spoke with the local police already, but I was wondering if you’d be willing to return to the station with us so we could interview you a bit further - you’re not under arrest, you’d be free to go at any time, we just have a couple more questions.”

I was hesitant, but at the same time, there was an itch in the back of my mind. An itch to know more. If this was a chance for me to find out what’s been going on, no way in hell I’m saying no to that.

Plus, if I did say no, that would be incredibly suspicious.

So I nodded, allowing Agent Prentiss to lead me back to the black vehicle that arrived with the slew of police cars. She opened the passenger door for me before shouting to someone who I’m assuming was one of her coworkers.

“Reid! Stay here and investigate the scene - I’m going to escort Ms. Silvers back to the station, and I’ll be back to pick you up.”

I heard a faint response before she shut the passenger door, climbing around to the other side and allowing me a glimpse of whoever she was talking to.

He was standing on the pavement, still looking at the car, nodding as I’m assuming Agent Prentiss said something else to him. The blue sweater he had on over his button up presented an interesting contrast between the pantsuit I’d seen Prentiss wearing, and the ridiculous query of the nature of the BAU’s uniforms crossed my mind before I turned my attention back to the matter at hand.

The matter at hand being, of course, discreetly staring at the man in front of me.

His curly hair rested almost at his shoulders, and I was mesmerized as I watched him speak, one hand flying and the other holding onto a thin wooden cane. Finally, he nodded definitively before turning back to the crime scene, and my eyes snapped to the driver’s side door as I heard Agent Prentiss slide into the seat next to me.

“Oh please, don’t let me interrupt your staring at Dr. Reid,” She held up her hands in mock defense, trying to keep herself from laughing, “I’m merely the driver.”

“Sta - what, I wasn’t staring, I -” I immediately started to defend myself (even if I totally was staring at Dr. Reid), but Agent Prentiss laughed again.

“Relax, Ms. Silvers. I’m only teasing. He is quite a good-looking man, isn’t he? Not my type, but I’m not blind.”

I blushed, acknowledging her statement with a nod as she put the car in drive, pulling away from the curb. As we started down the road, the full weight of the events that just occurred finally hit me.

I found a corpse.

I was on my way to a police station.

I might be the main suspect in an ongoing murder case. I hadn’t actually asked about that yet.

It was almost as if Prentiss had noticed the shift in my mood - honestly, there’s a chance she actually had, she was a profiler - because she broke the silence with a question.

“Ms. Silvers? How are you feeling?” She asked. I just shook my head.

“Please, call me Dahlia. And honestly, I have no idea how I’m feeling. I… well, I’m sure I don’t need to say that nothing like this has ever happened to me before.”

“I’d be surprised to hear you say it had,” She laughed. I laughed a bit too, though I couldn’t ignore the anxiety eating at me.

“I’m pretty sure I haven’t processed it yet,” I said honestly.

“You’ve gone through a lot in the last hour,” She agreed, “And I hate to say it, but you’re going to have to go through a little bit more. We’re here.”

We pulled into the police station, and she put the car in park, hoping out. I followed suit, and we both headed up the walkway to the front doors.

I was practically trembling with nerves, but at the same time, excitement coursed through my veins at what I might learn.

The BAU might’ve put a blockade on the media from the outside, but I was getting the inside scoop.

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hibiscera · 4 years ago

Note

mr. mind, da worm

INHALES. EXHALES. Anon I am so sorry for what you have unleashed. This is gonna be long.

I’m putting it under a cut actually because this is getting ridiculous. The special interest is TANGIBLE. Also this is sooooo embarrassing so I’m sorry in advanced.

First impression

THIS IS THE CHARACTER OF ALL TIME!!! THIS IS _THE_ CHARACTER OF ALL TIME, PLANKTON’S INFLUENCE!!? HOW COME I DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT HIM UNTIL NOW!?!?!?

This discovery was made on October 18th, 2020, when one of my dearest friends showed me a picture of him to lure me into getting into DC and I took the bait! Hook, line AND sinker. ^_^

I don’t know what anyone expected from the person obsessed with Scalpel TFA.

Impression now

He Is My Favorite DC Character I Love Him So Much.

My favorite version is Justice League Action because he has the best design out of all of his canon ones, and he is funny.

Uhh the Rebirth version, I like the direction they took with him!! I love the name Maxivermis!! I love the fleshed out backstory they gave him because I think if any villain should have a tragic backstory, it should be the villain that is literally an insect and I am NOT joking!! Yes I get it’s about the absolute absurdity of him being an insect and a villain, but I’m an entomology freak!!

Enough of fleshing out the clown!! It’s worm time!! I like the parallels they kind of tried to give between him and Billy in it too? I just don’t love that he’s not an alien anymore. That’s part of the appeal!

The version of him I love the most besides JLA is... Uhh, well, my personal version of him that I made. (: The ideal Mr. Mind!! The tragedy of his backstory from New 52, while still keeping him an alien! Not the exact same backstory but it’s STILL tragic, giving it connecting threads to J’onn’s backstory (you thought I could resist the venus and mars parallels!?). Keeping his insect characteristics while still letting him have his little glasses!! The best of both worlds!!

Honestly I feel like a lot of loving DC characters is... plucking your favorite parts from various continuities and creating your ultimate version of the character.

I think Mr. Mind has a lot of potential to be an interesting character, again I know it’s like... he is an evil worm hehe but UGHHH OK I LOVE BUGS SO MUCH AND I THINK WE CAN DO MORE WITH THEM!! I want to write a new version of him that explores the potential the concept of the character has...

It’s very similar to why I love Killer Moth so much, he is a character with a lot of potential and even the root of their characters I think is that they’re tired of being stepped on and underestimated, all packaged in a bug theme.

Anyways, Plankton was always my favorite Spongebob character so I hope that explains everything.

Favorite moment

Every moment he has in JLA. The whole episode with him and Superman and Lobo was so good. He’s so... casual. He’s just like HEHE I am a stinker. (: And Superman is like rolls his eyes. That was good I loved that.

Comics I still... have much to work through. But I did like in the Magiclands comic when he tried giving Billy the whole WE’RE NOT SO DIFFERENT YOU AND I speech. And I have like... no context for this, but I had read that bit where he... is with Superman and trying to talk down Lex from doing something super evil?? I liked that. (I also know that’s apparently not the original Mr. Mind but one of his children who is basically just him again and retains all of his memories)

Also the DC Super Friends comic where instead it’s Super VILLAINS and he is at the mad scientist convention!! LOOK AT HIM!!

By the way I cried when I saw him for the first time at the end of Shazam.

Idea for a story

Me, holding a folder full of papers and it’s all of my Mr. Mind development notes. Let’s not make this post longer than it already is.

Unpopular opinion

I think they should stick to him being an alien. That’s probably not an unpopular opinion. He’s not a popular character to begin with.

Also I prefer his basis being more off of caterpillars rather than worms, but I think from the beginning that’s what they were going with. I’m just a caterpillar lover and very specific.

Favorite relationship

Okay. Okay... A lot of this is uhhh stuff I made up for my own version of him and that universe.

So I hope it comes as a shock to absolutely nobody that him and Scarecrow naturally occur to me as a duo. I hope no one is surprised I saw the dubious lanky nightmare chemist and the evil science bug and said “Hold On. (:”

I’m not gonna delve into that too much mostly because I’m EMBARRASSED... but I think a guy obsessed with fear would see a ghastly evil little caterpillar, a BUG, which many people are afraid of!! And I think he would be like... hmm yeah I like this guy’s style actually.

And then there is The Possibility Of Parallels Between Him And J’onn And Superman. Admittedly, in my own writing I’ve found him more compelling as an enemy to them than of Captain Marvel!! My version of him retains him being the last of his kind (I haven’t read the comics where it actually happens but I know how it happens in canon verse I thiiiiink), but the cause is different. Very different. They are in similar situations... But Mr. Mind! Well, he is a very troubled caterpillar.

But also I want him to have a villain decay arc and become Billy’s accidental uncle.

And recently I’ve started fleshing out my version of Mr. Atom more and he’s ended up being the Toxitron to Mr. Mind’s Scalpel... which is to say his robot son. Like Doofenshmirtz and his robot son.

Favorite headcanon

Okay, I’m sorry, I’m the most embarrassing man on the planet. Yes I headcanon him as trans and gay.

Otherwise again this is a point where the post would get WAAAAYY too long because I have thought so much about him and my version of him.

#mister mind #mir answers #this is the most embarrassing post i have ever made #anon #dc hc tag

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let-it-raines · 5 years ago

Text

your wonder under summer skies (6/?)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

rating: mature

a/n: I’m sorry for the delay. I’d hoped to have finished writing this story and then post pretty quickly, but personal life things have kept my mind other places. But hopefully you guys keep enjoying this story 💙

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

-/-

Sand shifts beneath Killian’s feet as he runs along the shoreline. The tide hasn’t quite come in yet, the water just missing him as it wades onto the shore, but Skipper is getting soaked with salt water as he runs on his leash in front of Killian. He used to not have to put Skipper on a leash for their morning runs since no one else is on the beach at this time of the morning, but then the damn dog went and swam in the ocean only to get caught up in a rip tide.

So, leash it is even if it makes Killian run faster and harder than he ever intends to.

Bloody hell, his calves are absolutely on fire. He should have run along the boardwalk to save himself from this kind of pain.

“Skip,” Killian whistles. “Slow down, mate.”

The dog obviously doesn’t listen and keeps running, but Killian tugs on his leash until he pulls back, stopping and sitting down in the sand. He’s definitely going to have to be shaved later.

“Good boy,” Killian sighs as he finally catches up to him. “You want to head back home? Are you tired yet? I’m exhausted.”

Skipper barks and sticks out his tongue. Killian takes it as sign enough that it’s time to go home.

The sun begins to rise over the horizon on Killian’s walk home, and he slows his pace to watch the world be coated in shades of orange and pink that are like nothing he’s ever seen replicated. Milah used to try with her paintings. She was always so obsessed with the sun and the way it shaded things differently, and he’d catch her painting the same building over and over again with only the most minute differences. She was a bloody brilliant painter, too, and the more time that goes by, the more he wishes he’d been able to keep just one of her paintings.

He’d given them to her son.

Her son who deserved them much more that Killian ever did. His only hope is that they’re displayed instead of shoved in a supply closet or decaying in a landfill somewhere. Her family had been furious when they found out about him, and he doesn’t blame them.

He felt the same way.

Except Killian was the hidden boyfriend who was driving the car that killed Milah, and he wasn’t exactly welcomed by her family at the funeral. He’d always thought that she didn’t have family, that she had few people just like him, but she apparently had hordes of people in her life.

How can he still harbor love for her when she betrayed him?

When she’s the reason he hasn’t been able to commit himself to anyone since.

Well, there was Tink, but she was exactly the same as Milah in so many ways.

At least she didn’t help in giving him the scars that run up and down his arm and wrap around his hand so that there was a permanent physical reminder of her. She simply, well, sunrises don’t remind him of her in the way they remind him of Milah.

Skipper barks again, and Killian shakes himself out of it before continuing to walk up to the beach. Some of the cabana boys are already dragging out the lounge chair cushions to the beach, and Killian nods at them before turning at the boardwalk and making his way to the shop. He goes through the back door so that obnoxious bell won’t go off, and as soon as they get inside, Killian slips out of his shoes and takes Skipper’s leash off before quietly walking up the stairs.

The lights in the apartment are all still turned off, and Killian uses the dim light of the rising sun to find his way back to his bedroom. The only light in there is the brightness of Emma’s phone shining on her face.

“Why did you get up so early to run this morning?”

He pulls off his sweaty shirt and tosses it in his laundry bin. “I’ve got a full day. I’m down at the marina all day. Why? Did you want to come with?”

“I’m doing a spin class with Ruby tonight, but I do need to start running on the beach again. That is a hell of a workout.”

“You’re telling me. My calves are still on fire.”

Emma hums and keeps typing on her phone. What the hell is she writing this early in the morning? He didn’t even think she’d be awake, but he probably woke her up when he left. Damn. He thought he was being quiet.

“I’m going to take a shower. Do you need to take one?”

“I’m not showering with you, Jones.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

She drops her phone and raises her brow. “I’m sorry. You’re a man who doesn’t want to have shower sex? I think you may actually be a unicorn.”

“It’s a very small shower, love, and I don’t think my knees can take being on the tile. My legs are definitely too tired to have to hold you up.”

“I’m not complaining,” she laughs. “I’ve just never had this happen before. I feel like I need to document it. You can leave the shower on for me. I’ll hop in after.”

Killian raises his hand and salutes at Emma before stripping out of the rest of his clothes and walking into his bathroom. He closes the door behind him and turns on the shower, allowing it to heat up for a minute or two before stepping inside and letting the water pound against his back. It feels better than he imagined it could, and even with this, he knows he’s going to be beyond sore by this evening.

He easily could have stayed in bed with Emma this morning. He could have slept in, had some kind of drowsy, lazy morning sex, and then been on with his day without being sore.

Now that he thinks about it, that would have been the better option.

Then again, the two of them aren’t really wake up in the morning and have sex kind of people. It’s happened, but it almost feels outside of their deal. He’d like to stay inside the deal and within the guidelines of their rules as much as he possibly can.

It’s funny how easy it’s been to fall into this thing with her. It’s usually not like this when he starts sleeping with someone new. There’s a game to be played, no matter how much he’d sometimes rather not play it, but with Emma, it’s not like that. There’s no tip-toeing around each other or questioning motives, not anymore. It is what it is, and they’re both okay with that.

No games may be the most refreshing thing in the world.

Killian quickly scrubs himself down with soap and washes some shampoo in his hair before rinsing it all off. His bathroom door opens, and Emma walks through without a stitch of clothing on.

Bloody hell.

“You almost finished?” she asks, apparently without a care in the world that she’s nearly rendered him speechless.

And possibly changed his thoughts on shower sex, even if that would absolutely be the most uncomfortable thing in the world right now.

“It’s all yours, milady.” He slides open the glass door and grabs a towel while Emma slides by him and steps into the shower. “It may be a little hot.”

“It’s scorching. What is wrong with you?”

“Trying to relieve my sore muscles, love.”

“By burning your skin off?”

“It is not that hot.”

She rolls her eyes and grabs his shampoo bottle. He’s got to stop looking at her if he wants any hope of being able to get dressed comfortably.

“Do you have conditioner?”

Killian bends down and pulls out an old bottle that was left here. “This work?”

She reaches out and grabs it. “Do you have more of this?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because whichever girl left this is my new favorite. This stuff is expensive, and I think I’ll be able to actually brush through my hair now.”

Killian scoffs and adjusts the towel around his waist. “What’s wrong with the stuff in the shower?”

“It’s awful. The fact that you have such good hair is amazing.”

Oh, well, if she’s going to compliment him, he can’t pass that opportunity up. He twists his head and gets in her eyeline, ignoring the way water is dripping off her breasts, and moves his brows up and down.

“Why, darling, who knew you had such a thing for my hair?”

Emma’s nose scrunches up. “Shut up.”

“No, no, I can’t let this go. Tell me, what else do you find attractive about me? I know there must be quite a list since you’ve decided to sleep with me on a regular basis.”

“Again, shut up.”

“Nope. I’m not letting this go now. You find me attractive, Swan, and believe it or not, I actually quite fancy you from time to time when you’re not yelling at me.”

“Don’t you have something to be doing?”

“I have nothing to do but stare at you.”

Emma’s laugh is louder than the spray of water, and he sees her shake her head before she goes back to washing her hair. Killian should shave this morning, but he can put that off until tomorrow when he’s not incredibly distracted by the naked woman showering next to him.

Killian brushes his teeth and dries his hair before walking out of the bathroom, leaving the door open for the steam to waft out, and he gets dressed for work. He’s still got hours until then, but if he puts joggers back on, he’ll not want to go. He knows the families who are coming in today for sailing lessons, and as much as he loves that part of the job, he does not want to deal with a group of twelve-year-old kids today.

The shower water keeps running, and Killian sees Emma out of the corner of his eyes before he opens his bedroom door and softly closes it behind him. The lights in the kitchen are on, and when he gets close enough, he sees Elsa standing over the stove with eggs in the pan. He didn’t even know she’d stayed over last night. He should be paying more attention to that. Then again, he doesn’t want Liam to know who he has staying over, so maybe it’s a good thing that they can quietly go about their business.

When Liam and Elsa get married, though, Killian hopes they either kick him out of here or move into Elsa’s place. He doesn’t know how much longer he can take living with Liam because of situations like this morning, but that’s not exactly an easy conversation to have.

“You making enough for everyone?” Killian asks.

Elsa twists around and smiles. “I’m making enough for me, but if you want some, that’s not a problem. Did you go running this morning?”

“Aye, and yes to the eggs, too.”

“That’s really early for you to go running. I didn’t even know you got up at that time.”

“Love, I almost never sleep in. The Navy will kill that habit before they do anything else.”

“Liam has managed to curb that, I think. That or he fakes sleeping in so I don’t feel lazy when I wake up later than him.”

“I think you may be onto his evil plans.”

She laughs again before plating the eggs in the pan and opening the carton next to her to crack open two more. “Oh, by the way, Emma is coming over this morning to help me with some wedding stuff. Anna is going to call in since that’s all really her cup of tea, but Emma is going to help get me a lower rate on one of the club venues. So, if you could go downstairs and unlock the door for her, that would be great.”

Killian swallows and grabs the plate of eggs from Elsa’s side, seasoning them and adding some cheese. “Isn’t that really more Mary Margaret’s department? The weddings, I mean.”

“Mary Margaret is more passionate about it, but they technically have the same job. Plus, Emma was free to meet me this early so we could talk to Anna at the same time.”

Killian accidentally shakes a little too much salt into his eggs. “When is Emma supposed to be here?”

“In about thirty minutes. Did I say you could have those eggs?”

Killian stuffs some overly salted eggs in his mouth. “I figured you’d want them while they were still hot, so I’d take the old ones.”

Elsa hums and nods. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Don’t I know it?”

Killian stuffs the eggs into his mouth, eating far more quickly than any normal human should, and he’s going to regret it later. But he needs to finish and run back into his room because Emma cannot come out this way if Elsa is in the kitchen.

“Did the water just turn off?”

“Hmm?”

“I thought I heard the water turning off, but I must be hearing things.”

Shit.

“I didn’t hear anything.” Killian puts his half-empty plate down. “These are really good, Els. I’ll be right back, yeah? I need to check my phone.”

She doesn’t say anything, and Killian quickly leaves before she can. He doesn’t know what they’re going to do. Elsa is in the kitchen cooking, and she always likes to eat on the sofa. He can’t exactly tell Elsa to go back to Liam’s bedroom so he can sneak Emma out of the house only to sneak her back in.

What the hell, Emma? Why did she even come over last night? Did she not think this through? They’re going to have to start thinking things through if they don’t want to get everyone else involved. That would be a disaster that neither of them know how to get out of with how nosy their friends are.

When he gets back to his room, Emma is still in the bathroom with her hair wrapped up in a towel as she brushes her teeth. At least he thought to buy her a toothbrush to keep here after last week when she tried to use his.

“Do you want to tell me why you thought it was a good idea to meet Elsa here this early in the morning?”

“Huh?” Emma spits into the sink. “What? Why do you – oh you have egg on your shirt, KJ.”

He looks down and flicks it off. How did that happen? “Swan, why did you stay here last night if you knew you were meeting Elsa this morning?”

“Because then I wouldn’t have to drive from my place?”

“What was your plan? Get up and leave only to come back in two seconds later?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“And what do you plan on doing now since Elsa is awake and sitting in the living room eating her breakfast? She’s not going to leave, and I don’t really see how you plan on getting out.”

Emma’s toothbrush drops to the sink. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“You have to get her out of there. Get her to take Skipper on a walk or something.”

“She has plans to meet you. she won’t have time. Plus, she knows I already went on a run with him.”

“Shit. What am I supposed to do climb out your window?” Killian’s brow arches. Now that’s an idea. “No,” Emma starts, “no, no, no. This is the second floor. I’m not jumping down. What if I break something?”

“You’ll land on the sand, and you only have to drop about ten feet.”

It’s ridiculous, this idea, but he’s starting to think it might be the best one. Killian walks over to the set of windows in his room, opens one up, and looks down at the small ledge. His room drops directly down onto some sand with Liam’s bedroom and the living area completely out of sight, and as long as she doesn’t land terribly, she should be fine.

Yeah, just fine.

Emma’s stare switches between him and the window, but eventually she goes to grab all of her things, either putting them on or holding them in her hands, and makes her way toward the window. She tosses her shoes down first and then her purse. Finally, she climbs over the ledge of the window and looks back at him.

“Next time, we’re staying at my place or we don’t spend the night or something. I am not climbing out of a window for you again.”

“If I stay at your place, what am I going to do about Skipper?”

“Have Liam take care of him.”

“I can’t very well tell Liam I’m spending the night at your place because I’m shagging you, now can I?”

Emma’s eyes roll. “Your British is coming out. And, literally, Jones, just tell him you went home with a woman. It’s not a lie. It’s not the full truth, but it’s not a lie. Most importantly, it means I don’t have to jump from a window so I can talk to Elsa about price packages for her wedding.”

He hates to admit it, but she makes a good point.

They obviously are still working out all of the kinks in this arrangement since neither of them thought them through.

Idiots. The both of them.

“If I break something, you have to clean my apartment for me.”

“I will be happy to, love.”

“And you owe me lunch this week.”

“You can eat all of my extra crisps for the foreseeable future.”

Emma nods and hooks her leg over the window ledge. He hears her swallow, and then she’s climbing down and holding on to the window as she dangles from side of the building.

“You’re lucky that the sex is good, Jones. And that you do manage to entertain me with more than mediocre conversation.”

“There you go complimenting me again.” Killian flashes her a smile and winks. She is definitely going to try to murder him when she gets back up to this apartment. “I’m not the one who scheduled a meeting. This is technically all your fault.”

Emma doesn’t respond. Instead she looks down at the ground and then drops with a subtle thud. When Killian looks down, he sees her standing on her feet brushing the sand off her ass. That’s definitely going to be a devil tomorrow.

Killian chuckles to himself and then closes his window before heading back out of his room. He’s still got to unlock the shop for Emma. Maybe he should get her a key.

Wait, no. That would definitely be taking it too far.

“Your eggs are definitely cold now,” Elsa says as he walks through the living room where she’s now sitting with her food in front of her. His remaining eggs remain untouched next to hers. “I thought you were avoiding that.”

“No, I was avoiding that for you. I don’t actually mind because Skipper will eat leftovers anyway.”

“Where is Skipper?”

“He’s probably still wandering around downstairs. I’ll send him up when I unlock everything.”

When Killian finally gets to the front door, Emma is standing outside with her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pressed into a firm line. God, all he wants to do is laugh, but he does still want to live to see tomorrow.

“Good morning, milady,” Killian sighs. “I’m loving the look. Very natural. The use of sand is just…stunning.”

Okay, maybe he doesn’t want to live to see tomorrow.

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“I am not doing that again.” “As long as you plan things a little better, you won’t have to.”

Emma huffs and brushes past him, but he reaches out and tugs on her wrist until she’s pulling back to him and standing with her hands pressed against his chest. He can see her freckles and the blonde of her eyelashes when she looks like this, and it reminds him of all the times they’ve gone out on the ocean or spent the day at the beach.

It reminds him of how close her lips are to his.

“You have sand in your hair, love.” He reaches up and picks a few pieces out, letting them fall to the ground before he tucks her hair back into place. “How did that happen?”

Emma’s lips part. “I don’t – I – ”

There’s a bark behind the two of them, and they quickly part as Skipper sticks his nose between the two of them.

“I need to go meet Elsa,” Emma finally says as she scratches behind Skip’s ears. “You want to come and talk weddings with us?”

“You know, love, I think I just might.”

“You sure? Anna is very into it, I’ve heard.” “Anna is very into everything. It’s part of her charm. This is also her actual job.”

“True. I’m just kind of here to help with finding them a date. They want it to be this summer.”

Killian mock gasps and walks with Emma. “So soon? Do you think my brother has been improper and gotten that nice girl pregnant?”

“I don’t know, but that’s the gossip around these parts.”

“However will they regain a good reputation? Do you think it will affect the business?”

“It might. You best prepare to be making less money.” “What the hell are the two of you talking about?” Elsa laughs as they walk into the apartment.

“Oh, just how Liam knocked you up and ruined your reputation.”

Elsa’s eyes roll. “I’m not pregnant, and we don’t live in the 1800s.”

“Still. Such a short engagement. People might get ideas.”

“You’re far too cheeky for it to be this early in the morning,” Elsa sighs. “Do you have sand on your jeans, Emma?”

Killian bites his tongue, but he still can’t hold in his chuckle. Emma reaches over to slap him, but she stops herself right before and places her hand on his shoulder before looking down at her jeans.

They are not smooth.

“Huh,” Emma sighs, “I guess that I do. It was windy this morning. It must have blown over on me. Is Liam joining us?”

“Yeah, he’s getting dressed. I honestly think he might be trying to avoid Anna.”

“Or me,” Emma mumbles so quietly Killian thinks only he hears it.

“What?” Elsa asks.

“Nothing, nothing,” Emma quickly corrects. “I’m going to fix myself some coffee and then we’ll get started. Do you have all your numbers?”

“On my phone, yeah.”

Skipper comes walking up the stairs and sniffs along Killian’s shoes before moving over to Elsa and settling down at her feet. The back bedroom door opens, and Liam walks out. Part of Killian wants to stay for this meeting, to get to know what exactly his brother and Elsa are going to plan for their wedding, but he also doesn’t want to be a witness for the cold shoulder Liam will inevitably give Emma. Killian’s never understood Liam’s problem with Emma, but hopefully the man can keep it together enough to not make some asinine remark when Emma is doing him a favor.

“Well,” Liam smiles, “are we all ready to plan a wedding?”

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings @mrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @sherifemma @shardminds @captainsjedi @galaxyzxstark @galadriel26 @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @itsfabianadocarmo @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @cluttermind

#your wonder under summer skies #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan

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lokisasylum · 3 years ago

Text

writer’s tag

No one tagged me, I’m just your regular insomniac (but without caffeine this time).

1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?

I used to write for Yuyu Hakusho and Death Note back in the day when I finally coughed up the courage to try writing. But i don’t write for either one anymore since I left both fandoms back in 2009. Then I took a LONG break from fandoms as a whole (due the toxicity in them thanks to the pre-teens who joined afterwards to ruin them 🤢) and instead focused on this original story I had for a couple of years, but then lost interest in it since no one else was into it.

2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?

Currently? BTS.

3. how long have you been writing?

Y’know, i was gonna say since 2008 when I REALLY got into Death Note and opened my first deviantart account (i was 22 back then). But I’ve actually been writing roughly since I was 13. I used to carry around a large notebook with random dialogues, chapters, scenes, character datas for an original story that never quite came to life. *shrugs*

4. on which platforms do you post your stories?

AO3 and sometimes on deviantart (LoKiRaseNgAn), which is also my main art account.

5. what is your favourite genre to write?

Alternative Universes, slice of life, angst with happy endings (most times >>), psychological thriller, strangers to lovers, and of course a bit of smut without plot is good.

6. are you a pantser or a planner?

I make a plan and then wing it till the end LOL. For example, I almost always start writing with the intention of writing a oneshot... and then chapter 02 happens... then chapter 03 and so on...🤷🏻‍♀️

7. one shot or multi-chapter?

BOTH, both is good.

8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?

I used to think 10-12 pages was THE way to go, because #1. It sets a goal/deadline, #2. Reduces the time it would take to update a story especially if its multi-chartered and #3. It helps prevent unnecessary fillers.

But lately my “endgame” is 20-22 pages long if its a Oneshot or final chapter.

[LMAO I never even did that for my Graduate School Thesis, where the “perfect/acceptable length” was 50 pages per chapter. I only ever did 25-38 and only because I set the spacing to 2.0 and would bullshit my way through the last lines 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 ]

9. what is your longest published story? is it complete?

For now, Lunatic High , which is 17 chapters long but missing the final one (18). So it remains Incomplete until I can finish that last chapter which I’ve had to re-write several times after the original was lost 😭😭

10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?

Beautiful Tragedy (soulmate au) and All or Nothing would bet the best pics because both had the exact endings I wanted for them from the start.

11. favourite request you’ve written and why?

I never get requests, so I just write whatever plot bunny’s running wild in my head at 3AM.

12. are there recurring themes in your stories?

angst, hurt/comfort, smut with a bit of humor

13. current number of wips?

*glares at File on my desktop* ...11 unpublished..and 2 multi-chapters that are missing their final chapter.

14. three things you have noticed about your own writing?

As per typical of a History major since college, I do TONS of research about topics of interest. Especially if Historic events take place (like in Forever, You Said where I did a year of research on the Joseon Dynasty back in late 1600s up until what was going on in the world before, during and after World War II)

I’ve never noticed this, but some of my readers describe my writing as “poetic”, “realistic” to a point where they question reality and emotional.

I unconsciously tie events, phrases, moments between characters and the end result makes it seem like it was all planned from the start (this happens a lot between VMIN).

15. a quote you like from a published story.

" Most fairy-tales make you believe that there is such a thing as “forever”, but in reality kingdoms fall, buildings turn to ruble, words fade, bodies decay and turn to dust. Nothing ever lasts. Not even love.” -- [Forever, You Said. Chapter 03: “A Blackened Soul”]

16. a quote from an unpublished story.

[This one’s fron a Yoonmin Police AU titled “Red Cold River” ]

“It hurt... it always does, but I know he's hurting more. So I don't tell him anything, for I too hold on to the same fear as he. That one day his obsession to solve "the one case" will take him away from me. That next time it'll be his body we have to identify on the cold steel bed in the morgue and I won't be able to stand it.

That in the end I’ll become just like him; bitter and plagued by regrets.”

17. a space for you to say something to your readers.

Thank you for reading my stories and for the Kudos or Comments. I always read each one and keep them close to my heart to motivate me into writing more. But I’m also sad and very sorry that I haven’t written anything since 2 years ago.

You guys prolly see me online all the time cracking jokes, recommending new music or making shady comments always aimed towards idiots and antis, but IRL its been rough on my end with chronic illnesses I rather not speak off to avoid sounding like I'm throwing a pity party. Also struggling to find a new job since I lost my old one over 4 years ago (they keep saying its cause i'm "overqualified" but I just call it bullshit and people being too lazy to teach someone new) and with this fucking pandemic that won't go away only adds more frustration on the daily basis.

But just now that I haven’t given up on writing and I haven’t given up on either Lunatic High nor Forever You Said.

18. Tag?

Anyone who’s read it this far is tagged.

#tag #tag meme #tag quiz #bts #bts fics #bts fanfics

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