#pointing and shrieking /pos

[child-of-the-deep]

Sunspot blinked, tensing up. The noticeable change in Atticus’ appearance and body language stunning them for a moment.

“Whot- no??”

They scoff, narrowing their eyes.

there was a rather unenthusiastic knock on the door, though it for some reason felt oddly familiar.

- ???

Sunspot perked up, quickly trotting over to the door. They reached for the handle before pausing- attempting to place the knock- oh how familiar it was.

Unable to fully recognize the knock, they grabbed the door handle and slowly pulled the door open, peering outside.

“Ello?”

[writersdrug]

Bartender Simon and reader compilation of them having physical contact throughout the day? Like brushing fingers when handing off drinks, or him putting a hand on her hip in the walk as he says,” behind,” to stop her from freaking out as he grabs something overhead, etc .thank youuuuuuuuuu

You guys are making me jealous of reader I swear-

You're the one who starts this game, even if it's unintentional. You ask him for a pen one day, yours is empty and you've got a six top in the corner that's ready to order. He gives you one from the bar, and you tap his forearm twice. "Thanks, Simon!" You say, skipping of to your table.

Simon Simon Simon... he stares after you, replaying your voice and your touch in his mind. It's so nonchalant for you, but it's got him derailed from whatever he was doing. Oh, right. Bartending.

But he makes a point to make you understand what you're doing to him. You're punching in a payment at the POS when you suddenly feel a hand on your upper back, and you freeze.

"Behind ya." He mumbles, reaching over you and into the cabinet to grab a to-go box. "Sorry, stealin' your boxes. I'm out."

You feel his fingers slide across your back until they retreat, and it takes everything within you to suppress a shiver. You look back at him once he leaves, feeling your face heat up and your lips quiver. Behind the bar, there's a fresh stack of to-go boxes.

Sneaky bastard.

You get him back, though. On a busy night, you jog behind the bar, nearly colliding with Simon. He stills and raises his hands. "Careful, Christ-"

You worm your way past him, ever-so-slightly pressing against his front, giving him the perfect angle of your tits. He can't breathe as you wiggle through - the fabric of his shirt and yours do little to quell the blazing heat he feels from you.

"That soda gun's broken!" You call out, filling the two glasses in your hand with the gun at the opposite end of the bar. You then trot back over and squeeze by him again - this time, your ass barely graces his cock, and he swears it nearly leaps to life just to feel the brush of your backside. "Thanks!" You call over your shoulder, disappearing into the restaraunt.

Simon takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders, staring at the bartop and trying not to go feral. (You're making it very hard for him). He picks up the soda gun and pushes all of the buttons - they all work fucking fine.

Come the following week, Simon decides to be bold. You sit at the bar on a slow Tuesday evening, watching the game on the telly, occasionally reaching over the bar to snag a fry (they're Simon's, but he hasn't touched them in a while - they would get cold). Your two tables are talking amongst themselves, waiting for their food. You would glance back into the kitchen window and check the warmer for their orders, but so far, Soap's still working on them. So you relax, having nothing better to do.

You're hoisted out of the barstool when two, large, meaty hands grab you by the waist. You shriek, dropping your fry, grabbing onto Simon's forearms as he lifts you up and deposits you onto your feet.

"Stop eatin' my chips, stop slackin', n' go roll silverware." He grumbles - he gives you two, sharp pats on the small of your back, the tips of his fingers on the curve of your ass.

You can't find it in yourself to turn around and gripe with him. You can't even look at him. You scurry off and run upstairs in search of fresh napkins, face red as a tomato and your stomach fluttering nicely. This is normal, right? This is what waitressing lis like - flirtatious behavior everywhere, both giving and receiving. It doesn't mean anything. Right?

Simon chuckles. He'll take that as a win.

[misssilversunny]

Incel shiggy kidnaps idol reader

Or rents lookalike idol reader (and he does what he wants with her bc this is the closest hell ever get) (then gives a fat check accompanying his fat load)

God, so many thoughts… head in hands rn/pos

Couldn’t decide on which one I like more, so here’s both kinda. Part two to this. Also, I’m assuming that by lookalike, you mean a sex worker who cosplays as the reader? I hope this is to your liking!

MDNI

CW/TW: Implied Kidnapping, Shigaraki is an incel so his opinions of sex workers are Not Great, I’m very new to writing smut

Shiggy tries hiring lookalikes but they never compare to you. You’re pure, a saint- no, goddess among men. These whores simply use your likeness to make a quick buck off of filthy nobodies like him. But sometimes a toy isn’t enough.

He hires one he finds on a porn site. They’re a convincing lookalike, even going so far as to mimic your voice. Even though you don’t talk like that. She laughs at a subpar joke he made, her laugh high and shrill, closer to a shriek than your angelic voice.

He brings her home while everyone else is out or in their rooms. He’s already been flamed by Dabi for spending so much on chicks that look like you, just thinking about it pisses him off.

He drags her into the room by her arm, ignoring her whining about his grip. When they get to his room, he tosses her on the bed, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock without looking at her.

She has on a pair of themed panties with little bows on them. She says her “best friend” got them for her. They’re themed after that damn boy idol group. Specifically, the boy who’s constantly touching you or making you laugh. That little shit has no fucking right being pressed up against your cunt, themed underwear or not.

Shigaraki turns her panties to dust, kneeling down until he’s face to face with her pussy. He shoves his face in, licking her slit and plunging his tongue into her hole. He wanted to practice before the real thing. He knew that one day you would be his, and he needed to be sure that he was your best. Plus, he found that he actually enjoyed eating pussy. He knew once you two were together, he’d be buried between your thighs 24/7.

He sped up his tongue as her moans got louder, circling her clit and tapping it before going back to her soaked hole. She sounded fake at first, but soon her voice became genuine as her orgasm approached.

Shigaraki flipped her onto her back before dropping back to his knees. He showed no mercy, sucking her clit into his mouth and licking it in tighter circles as his fingers plunged inside of her. With one final suck, her thighs clamped around his head as her orgasm crashed into her.

He forces her legs apart as he lines himself up and fully sheathes himself in one harsh thrust. Her legs clamp around him as he sets an unforgiving pace. His dick has an extreme upward curve, and his position keeps hitting her g-spot without even trying.

She’s teary eyed at this point, begging him for more. He grabs her thighs and pushes them until her knees are by her ears, leaning down until their breaths were mixing.

He leans further and licks a stripe up her throat, biting just below her jaw. "Gonna breed this nasty cunt. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he says, lips pulled into a sneer.

“Yes, Ohmyfuckinggod please cum in me. I need it please oh my god oh fuck." Just another way she wasn’t you. You’d beg him to pull out. But it didn’t matter. He was too close to complain.

With a final cry into the musky air, her cunt clamps down on his cock. He groans, his hips stuttering as he presses himself flush with her hips, spurting out rope after warm, thick rope of cum into her pussy.

He stays inside for a few seconds before he pulls out, watching the globs roll out of her abused cunt. He doesn’t snap a picture, instead leaving $1,500 on the nightstand next to her before leaving to clean himself up.

He’s scrolling on his phone a little while later when he sees you’ve posted to your Twitter again. Your group is going to be returning to the city in three weeks and holding a concert the day of their return. You’re posting about how you can’t wait to be reunited with your beloved pet cat and sleep in your bed again.

Shiggy gets tickets to the concert and decides to follow the car the group came in to your house. After everyone has gotten to their homes, you are dropped off last at a fancy looking apartment. Shiggy watches you enter the building and watches the windows to see which light turns on.

You’re high up, but that doesn’t deter him.

He walks into the building, trying his best to not draw attention to himself as he climbs the stairs. He reaches your floor with great effort. He really should exercise more. He leans on the wall next to the elevator to catch his breath.

While he’s standing there, a guy in a Pizza Hut uniform walks out of the elevator, looking around.

“Hey, do you live here?” He asks, tilting his head. Shigaraki stiffens, trying to not look guilty.

“I’m trying to find room 816. Someone ordered a pizza, garlic bread, and soda. Big soda too, they must have a pretty severe sweet tooth.” He continues, trying to make small talk. Shiggy pushes himself from the wall, motioning for the man to follow. He leads him to a supply closet on the floor, pushing him inside when he hesitates. He snatches the boxes in his hand, placing it on a shelf.

“Wait, what the fuck?” The delivery man turns to Shigaraki, “Nice prank, ha-ha. Now where is Room 81-“

Shigaraki grabs the man’s neck, careful to avoid his clothes. The man’s eyes grow to the size of dinner plates before shooting to Shigaraki’ wrist, desperately trying to claw his hand off like a rat in a glue trap. With a pitiful gasp, he crumbled to dust, leaving just his clothes.

Shigaraki emerged from the closet a few minutes later and approached your door, knocking. You opened the door clad in only a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized top, flashing him a smile.

“Ah! My order! Thank you! Come in and place it on the table, I’ll get the money!”

[flameswallower]

THE BEST FICTION I ENCOUNTERED IN THE FIRST HALF OF 2024!!

Due to what I feel is the most in my wheelhouse re: ability to give a critical defense or determine artistic quality, and also so I won't be here ALL DAY, this list will include books, comics, interactive fiction, and one short video webseries I really liked. It will not include movies, TV shows, non-IF games, or nonfiction, although I do also enjoy/partake in those things.

Everything on this list was new to me this year with the exception of the comic strip Junk World; however, Junk World released as a zine fairly recently, and I forgot to mention it on my end of 2023 list, so I feel fine putting it here. "New to me" does not mean something necessarily released this year, so I have put the year of release in parentheses next to the work where I know the year of release. A couple of these books haven't actually come out yet (I read ARCs); I've noted that when describing them and they will also be on the end-of-year list so people don't forget about them. : )

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

Novels and Novellas!

Cuckoo, by Gretchen Felker-Martin (2024): This is a blisteringly angry book: a constantly burning blow torch pointed at homophobia, transphobia, and, especially, the pervasive scourge of hidden, ignored, and socially approved child abuse. Yet Cuckoo has great tenderness for its immensely damaged protagonists, and also takes the time to flesh out and empathize with some of its odious antagonists. This nuanced characterization provides a necessary counterpoint to the rage that fuels the novel, and makes it more moving and memorable than most other politically charged, hyper-violent works of fiction. There are quiet moments of connection and sorrow that are going to stay with me far longer than the scenes of dynamite explosions and shoot outs with shrieking, starfish-faced cops.

Failure To Comply, by Cavar (comes out in August 2024): Reading Cavar’s Failure to Comply, I couldn’t help but think of the recent David Cronenberg movie Crimes of the Future. Both deal with dystopias in which bodies and their modification are strictly regulated, and people with unauthorized bodies form a vibrant, perpetually imperiled subculture on the margins. Both use this conceit to speak metaphorically about the plights of trans and disabled people, although Failure to Comply’s characters are also presented as literally, textually disabled and trans. But, although Crimes of the Future is often accused of being a “weird movie,” Failure to Comply is undeniably much, much weirder. Cronenberg is super normal compared to this.

Maej, by Dale Stromberg (comes out in September 2024): a doorstopper I found difficult to put down and finished inside a week; a work of very unapologetic genre fiction that’s equally unapologetic in its intelligence and dedication to doing strange, creative things with language; a high fantasy story I actually liked. The setting is the city of Sforre-Yomn, in the country of Hwoama, whose culture combines elements from across the continents of Asia and Europe. But Hwoama is matriarchal: men are subordinate to women, who dominate politics, business, the military, and nearly all other professions. As a result of this fact, almost all the major characters in the novel are female. By turns this presents a fun, simple, mischievous inversion of maleness as the unmarked default state for fictional characters, and meaty commentary on the social construction of sex, sexuality, and gender. Stromberg has cited Le Guin as an influence on Maej and, in the most complimentary way possible, this influence is evident.

Wrath Goddess Sing, by Maya Deane (2022): I listened to the audiobook version, read by the lovely voice of Katherine Pucciarello, so I can't vouch for whether I would have enjoyed the novel (as much) in text form. However, the audiobook was an engrossing tale of bronze age sandal, sword, and sorcery. Although it is based on the story of Achilles, readers who want a very po-faced historically or mythologically faithful retelling would be wise to look elsewhere; that said, I for one have little interest in retellings that do not bring a lot of new stuff to the table, so I was happy with all of the strange, interesting, surprising directions this one went. I loved the bizarre, often horrific depictions of the gods; this book really captured the feverish, molten, giddy, and terrifying feeling that accompanies magic and spiritual encounters in real life. Like I said, this is essentially a lavish work of epic sword and sorcery, and I think it is best to set one's expectations through that lens.

More Bugs, by Em Reed (2024): A slow-paced existentialist character study/slice of life about a cynical, depressed butch woman going through a quarter-life crisis after circumstances force her to move back to her sleepy central Pennsylvania hometown and back in with her disapproving mother. Also a f/f age gap romance. Also a magical realist/sci-fi story about shapeshifting alien beings. It's unique, and I connected with it a lot.

Read and Then Burn This, by Rysz Merey (2024): Ah, young love! Have you ever been nineteen, shallow, insecure in your art, inexperienced in the world, and making poor sexual decisions? Haven't we all. This is a book about that. I find the relatively small scale of the proceedings, and the emotional numbness/constipation of the characters, makes this feel all the more sordid.

The Woods All Black, by Lee Mandelo (2024): This one has a couple flaws that bugged me while I was reading, but it's a revenge-horror romance story about two trans guys (or arguably: a trans guy and a butch) in 1920s Appalachia and it has blisteringly hot, graphic sex scenes of both the "regular" and the "monsterfucking" variety, so-- pretty much impossible for me not to enjoy overall! I thought the depiction of how 1.) people in the past conceived of transness differently than most people do today, and 2.) different trans people often conceive of their own transness differently, even if their embodiment is very similar, was nuanced and quite well done.

Short Story Collections!

Grime Time, by Ivy Grimes (2023): Some of the oddest short fiction I've read in ages! Grimes' surreal stories tend to be very brief, and they're almost always impossible to categorize. They deal heavily with ambivalence and ambiguity, two of my favorite things, and often end up unsettling the reader not because of anything particularly ominous or awful that happens in the narrative, but because it's very unclear what actually has happened, how the protagonist feels about it, and how the reader ought to feel about it. The definition of "really makes you think!" Grimes' prose is simple and clear, with minimal description, yet very distinctive. Often reminds me of Leonora Carrington.

White Cat, Black Dog, by Kelly Link (2023): Predictably enough, another all-bangers instant classic from Link. These stories are all based on fairy tales, with some following the original fairy tale quite closely and others taking very loose inspiration from the fairy tale or mixing and matching with elements from different tales. My personal favorite, the standout in an excellent collection, was "Prince Hat Underground," which is a really beautiful story about being in a long term relationship with someone you love but don't always get along with or understand, about accepting the inevitability of death and loss, and about what a fairy tale romance looks like when the people in the fairy tale romance are middle aged men on the cusp of old age, rather than wide-eyed young people.

Individual Short Stories!

"The Earth and Everything Under," by K.M. Ferebee (2014) is a slightly grotesque, surreal, fairy tale-like novelette about grief and witchcraft. I strongly suggest you read it at the link.

"The Clown Watches the Clown," by Sara S. Messenger (2024) is also slightly grotesque, surreal, and melancholic; it's about a young person in a space opera cyberpunk future who's caught in a rut. Again, you can and should read it at the link.

"The Evening and the Morning and the Night," by Octavia Butler (1987) has been anthologized in a few places and shouldn't be too difficult to track down, but I'd never read it before. It's an incredible work of sci-fi that deals with mad liberation/disability justice and also with (as in much of Butler's work) the idea of biology as destiny: to what extent are we at the mercy of our bodies and instinctual drives, and to what extent do we have the power to decide what we'll do with them? How do the stories we tell about certain kinds of bodies and medical conditions affect our ability to see that potential for choice, for agency, or just for things to turn out in a different and better way?

Comics!

Kiara's Junk World rules. I love the skillful inking, the cute animal characters, the playful and sardonic wit, the erudite references.

Interactive Fiction!

In a.c.d's The Beach That Makes You Old, you have to help a patient trapped in an evil hospice/psychiatric facility. (2024)

In K.A. Tan's Labyrinth, you play as the Minotaur, on the last day of his life. (2024)

Both games are free to play, with a play time of about forty-five minutes to an hour if you want to get all the endings/explore every aspect of the narrative. If you've never experienced interactive fiction before, it takes no special gaming skill: you just click through different links!

Video!

Mr. Samuel's Teatime Stories, dir. Yara Asmar (2024) is a distorted, Lynchian faux-children's show. Unlike, say, Don't Hug Me, I'm Scared, the tone is much more eerie, elegiac, and somber-- or, occasionally, surprisingly sweet-- than darkly comedic and satirical (which isn't to say there are no jokes or funny moments). I found it really moving by the end.

[poisonmonoxide]

HIGH STAKES INCOMING.

[A video begins playing. The timestamp above reads OCT 22, 2024 8:49 PM]

[Xide is walking through the woods, talking to his rotom phone again. This time, his scolipede is with him. He's smiling and pointing out random pokemon he finds on the walk, offering updates about his situation. It's a relatively normal vlog, especially considering the last one.]

"Today was a good day! Centi and I went and got malasadas from that real cutesy place out in Malie City, we're bringing some for Guz. We also went ahead and checked out the gardens. They were pretty nice, but not really our style. Anyway- we're headed back to Po Town now. I think I'll call Lani, see how her trial is going."

[A sudden shout, a bright light. Scolipede shrieks. The screen cuts to black. This is the last time anyone sees Xide.]

//HISUI ARC BEGINS.//

[laalaaisqueen]

Laa-Laa + Dipsy Survivor AU

Laa-Laa slightly heard the sound of the Dome doors but she just shoves her head under her yellow pillow despite a strong feeling in her chest. She just wanted to sleep despite the nightmares.

But she shot up when she heard Dipsy shouting.

"Okay I'm sorry I woke you up early yesterday! No need to grab at my neck!"

The yellow Teletubby rolls out of bed and for reason grabs a metal object out of her nightstand. She runs to Dipsy's cow print door and it's wide open. She can see the big and towering figure of Tinky Winky on the bed.

The purple Tele has never played a prank in his life so he's not joking around.

Laa-Laa grabs his arm and clicks the first circle of metal around his wrist. His red and white eyes right away lock on her and tries to launch himself at her.

But large Teletubbies are not graceful and she simply dodges and connects the second metal to the bed post.

"Alright, come on, let's talk about this somewhere safer." She runs out of the room but stopped at the dome doors when Dipsy turned to peek into Po's room.

"She's not in her room?"

Laa-Laa nervous casts a look at the purple open door as she hears Tinky struggling to get free from the cuff.

"Check Tinky's room."

He does and shakes his head.

"Okay she probably for some reason decided to try to ride her scooter in the dark."

Dipsy grabs the remaining flashlight on the work bench before following Laa-Laa out.

"So why was Tinky trying to do something to your neck?" Might as well talk about it while finding Po.

"I don't know, I assume because of the thing I did."

"Dipsy you do a lot of things Tinky could try to kill you for."

"I think he was trying to strangle me." Dipsy shrugs, shining the light in different random directions.

Not at the lake. Ugh, why did their home have to be so big?

"I swear we've checked almost everywhere at this point." Laa-Laa sighs, so very tired but they couldn't go home.

Dipsy's light lands on something and suddenly just sharply inhales.

There was a strange creaking noise.

She lifts her green eyes and blinks dumbly.

A red body was swinging back and forth. Being only held up by the rope around the neck.

Laa-Laa probably would have been horrified at such a sight. But she's seen this scene a million times in her nightmares. She's not sure how Po got hung on the tree though.

"O...Okay Po might be a little gremlin at times, but I don't think she deserves this."

Silence entered for a few seconds.

"...Are you suggesting someone hung her there?"

More silence because accusing Tinky Winky of doing it sounded ridiculous. He would never do such a horrible thing to anyone.

"Um, Hi-"

In a panic, Laa-Laa grabbed the flashlight and swung it in the direction of the unfamiliar voice.

They shriek as it breaks against their face.

"Did you just-"

Laa-Laa pushes Dipsy past the unfamiliar figure. "Who cares?! Just run to the caves!"

[randomwriteronline]

The sounds of cooing and raucous voices sputtering out something akin to words was a good sign, they both thought as they approached the room. A few healers were standing around the doorway, watching in curiously and giggling to themselves at the poor attempts at language coming through the thin barrier dividing them from the beings who were not their patients.

Whenua stood beside them, his short hunched stature causing him to go mostly unnoticed; he crossed his arms behind his back, made a show of trying to peek through the curtains, and finally whispered in a conspiratorial tone: "What are we laughing about?"

One Ice Agori jumped so high that they nearly cracked their skull on the ceiling.

The onslaught of hurried embarrassed apologies that followed wasn't that loud, but there were enough beings talking at the same time as they scrambled against the wall to completely cover the vocal progress coming from the adjacent room, clumsily backing away from the two Turaga in a burst of sudden bashfulness.

Try as she might, Nokama could not hold back a quiet chuckle as her brother scattered the healers away with an imperious wave of his hand, so very unlike him.

He maintained his act as he side-eyed her: "Well?" he hissed with a self-importance that would have once fit Matau perfectly, only making her giggle harder: "What is there that you find to be so funny? Is it me? Ah! It is, isn't it? Have you no respect for your elders? Such irriverence! Why, you young ones, growing ever cockier by the year! When I was your age, young lady, we- we would- we had-"

At that point they were both too overwhelmed by their own laughing fits for the charade to continue - bent over their knees and sustaining each other from the shoulders as their frames rattled and rattled with the sound of pocketfulls of spare change.

"Oh!" a squeak reached them. "Would you look who's here!"

Their racket had not gone unnoticed, evidently.

The two Turaga hurriedly calmed down once more before entering the room. They had to keep at least some semblance of decency and intrigue about themselves.

Their one-hundred-percent dignified appearance from behind that thin excuse of a curtain was met by the lopsided smirk of an Agori with a heavy metallic sheen to her skin and the both excited and curious gazes of a pair of suddenly quiet beings.

"Ulagha!" one of them beamed, smiling so brightly that his entire face seemed to lit up.

"Raise your tongue!" Krahka chided him: "You need to block the air at least a little bit if you want any of that to make sense! And roll the arr further down your throat!"

He huffed, wiggling in his seat but still grinning as he repeated, slower, following her instructions: "Tu - rrra - ga!"

"Hello!" Nokama replied just as giddy.

"Ayam Poha - tu! Toa ov Tohn!" he continued - and instantly his face scrunched up in displeasure at his mispronunciation, the arms he'd thrown triumphantly in the air retracting immediately while his nose curled up and he tried again, phonemes tangling in his mouth: "Ton. Tohn. T- thon, thon, thon, thon! Thon!"

"Easy now, easy-"

"BONES!" he cursed out loud: "BONES! STONE! STONE! STONE! Ayam Poau- Po - ha - tu, To-a ov Sss-tone! Stone!"

"There you go!" Whenua hollered back.

With a victorious shriek the Toa pumped his fists: "Toa ov STONE!"

"Of," Krahka corrected.

"STONE!"

"Of stone."

"TOA OV STONE!"

"Alright, we'll fix that later."

"Aycan peak! Ps- sk- spkspk- seek- pek- sep- BONES! Ssspeak!"

Nokama beamed, eyes alight with pride: "You can indeed!" she laughed exuberantly as she streched out her arms towards him. Pohatu slammed his head in her palms much like a Hapaka pup, perhaps even a bit more forcefully than she would have liked, and let her sway it left and right while gently squeezing his cheeks between her fingers. "How lovely to hear you again!"

His laugh was as thunderous as she remembered, filling the entire room effortlessly.

"He's not that good," Krahka huffed. She didn't get all these compliments when she figured out speech in a handful of minutes...

Her student stuck out his tongue at her.

She stuck it right back at him.

If she'd still been a teacher, the Ga-Turaga would have felt compelled to break up their bickering; having trained herself on the most inane of her brothers' arguments, however, she simply turned away from their childish display to put all of her attention on the one being who still had not uttered as much as a sigh.

"And you, Kopaka?" she grinned at him. "Would you like to share your progress with us, too?"

The Toa treated her to as blank yet least annoyed a gaze as he could.

His lips moved forward, as if to send her a kiss: then he whistled.

Whenua widened his eyes: "No," he whispered.

Kopaka looked straight at him and whistled twice again, adding an inquisitive inflection to the sound.

"No," the Turaga repeated. His finger pointed right at the organic being's chest; his gaze had turned dead serious. "Do not do this to me. Speak."

Another whistle.

Whenua smacked his hand on his leg: "No!" he wailed in a state of total despair, "I will not take this! We do not need another one who speaks solely in bird! I know you can speak - Pohatu, tell him to speak! Tell your brother to speak!"

But Pohatu only grinned as wide as he could and shook in his seat, legs tangled and swinging - not even trying to hide his amusement.

The Turaga turned to his old friend: "Krahka! Tell him to speak!"

"But he is speaking," she replied innocently as she batted her lashes, "Just not your language."

Watching him grip onto the cot for dear life as he whined and sobbed dramatically loudly while letting himself sink to the floor, this close to biting a chunk out of the mattress in frustration, was certainly something. What exactly that was was hard to tell, but the other four beings could agree that it was at least very funny.

When Whenua finally pulled himself up, he looked like he had been through the trials of the Hordika again.

"Kopaka," he began, pointing his finger at the Toa of Ice once more. "Listen to me very carefully. You cannot do this to me. I've stomached Nuju speaking only bird for a thousand years, I physically cannot handle a second one like that. You will kill me. You will kill your brother's Turaga. Do you think Onua would appreciate that? I know you can speak. Now take a deep breath, and say something. Normally. With words."

Teridax had awaited thousands of decades to see his plan come to fruition - millions of days, billions of hours, trillions of seconds, all for a moment of glory that barely lasted but a fraction of the anticipation and planning behind its very achievement.

The pause before Kopaka's answer was somehow more excruciating.

Might have been his dead stare in the Turaga's eyes.

Or the fact that he followed his instructions to the letter, likely for the sake of torturing him further.

His lips parted first to take a deep, deep breath, filling his chest.

They parted again to then exhale all that air - very slowly.

Parting a third time, he inhaled shortly.

And finally, mouth protracted to whistle, he said, deadpan: "No."

Whenua sunk back to the floor with a loud whimper.

Two seconds later he sprung back to his feet: "You PIRAKA!" he shrieked, and menacingly swung his fist down on the cot several times as the Toa picked himself up and leisurely walked on the mattress to hide behind his brother, who was convulsing uncontrollably as he laughed harder than his stomach could take, "You Vatuka! You Makika-faced fiend! So much for being made by Artakha - get back here, you spawn of Karzhani! You make me believe you can only--!"

"He couldn't even speak avian," his sister cackled for the sake of increasing his brother's relief and anger at the same time, "My Rau couldn't even translate him! He was just whistling!"

"WHAT!"

Pohatu kept rocking back and forth wheezing hysterically to the point where he was about to start crying.

"You shut up, you overly meaty Vako!" Whenua yelled again.

The Toa tried to answer to the insult with something in tone as best as his still clumsy speaking capabilities could allow him to - instead coughing up a storm as he choked on a breath when he attempted to stop his crazed giggling a little too quickly, needing his brother to (extraordinarily gracelessly, to be quite honest) slam his open palm a few times on his back like he was trying to shatter his spine to smithereens in order to dislodge whatever disgusting thing was stuck in his throat.

At last he sucked in a huge breath, mouth opening wide in a grin as the sound of a creaking window escaped it: "Aploghy tim-one tim-too tim-thrr earh-tauraga tim-one tim-too."

"Oh!"

"Ah - yes," Krahka bit her lip, face scrounched up in an almost pained grimace: "That. I was going to mention that."

"Lang stone-pattern same-not, be?" Nokama whirred, hoping her memory was simply a little faulty. The words came out of her like the intermittent clicking laments of a floppy disk drive allowing its contents to be downloaded slowly.

"Smaae-not, bee," Pohatu confirmed - not without struggling to imitate something at least close to the correct noise a few times.

Kopaka rolled his tongue deeper down his throat in something akin to a purr: "Frrreim-uorrrk an- anao- amu- anolam- anomelie," he tried to explain, modulating squeaks by imposing his dull greyish teeth and tongue against his lower lip to try and correct his pronounciation - though much of it was beyond his control.

His frustration was mitigated slightly by Nokama's humid palm laying on his hand. He focused on the texture of the protodermis on his skin before he started scowling too hard.

The Turaga turned to their friend, speechless but with eyes open wide, completely baffled.

Krahka could only shrug: "They're not built for it."

"What do you mean, not built for it?" Nokama sputtered before she could hold herself back: "It's our language! Our first dialect! All Matoran are made with an immediate knowledge of it - what do you mean, not...?"

"Framework lang compat-not," the Rahi repeated: her Agori-like face morphed into a mixture of mechanical features, reminiscent at once of both all the former inhabitants of the Great Spirit Robot and none of them, so that she could illustrate the problem as they moved in an unnatural manner as she continued speaking in screeching whirrs, clicks, buzzes, clangs, clunks, and so on. "Unit mec-not lang maker lang part-plural present-not. When: lang maker-yes lang part number-plural mod-not. Ice-toa stone-toa find-yes number-plural rrr-lang part click-lang plus maker-yes part-part-part iiii-lang-dif minus lang part-dif number-plural mod-not."*

The information did very little to comfort the Ga-Turaga. She looked awfully beside herself.

"But you do understand it still - you did understand all that with no problem, right?" Whenua turned back to the Toa as he gently clunked: "Comp-yes, be? Comp-correct-yes, be?"

"Com-ies arth-turrga, bee," Pohatu reassured him.

The other winced a little, but he smiled: "And you can still say a few words," he reassured Nokama, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. "Pronounciation leaves a lot to be desired, but based on how you spoke earlier it's safe to say that's not your forte."

The Toa of Stone dropped his shoulders with a cartoonish pout.

"Corec," Kopaka coughed.

His brother shot him a glare that wouldn't have been out of place on Nuju's face during one of his worst days.

The other Toa smirked with a smugness worthy of Onewa.

It was very short-lived, as he instantly dropped it and paled when Pohatu pointed at his nose with a brand new vengeance in his own dastardly grin as he only said: "Sayit."

Krahka tilted her head.

Then she grinned too.

Horrifyingly, because of the completely mechanical face.

Pohatu pressed harder on Kopaka's nose: "Sayit."

The Toa bit down on his lip and scowled.

"Sayit!"

"Come on, Kopaka," Krahka drawled with a honey-sweet tone, "Don't you want to show them how good you are?"

He shot her a look that could have killed her if she'd been any weaker a being and tried to stand up to walk out of the situation as he'd enjoyed being able to do in these past few days; he was instantly grasped and manhandled until he was essentially dangled before the Turaga, trying as hard as he could to hold himself back by clawing onto the cot with his dull fingers: "Sayit!!" his brother insisted with a wail, shaking him up and down like a jammed up pepper grinder.

"No!" he growled back quietly as his cheeks grew darker.

Pohatu leaned down to the baffled Turaga with a conspiratorial smirk: "Ee kip sain da vecas ee nos ee can mes i'ap," he stage-whispered, completely forgoing any lesson he might have been given on proper phonology in favor of fluid if only vaguely comprehensible communication.

"Can-NOT!" his brother corrected.

"Aysay da!"

"NO! Ee- Yu, say-d, can!"

"He's right, you said 'can', not can't." their teacher intervened: "You're really bad with plosives."

He very maturely replied by blowing her the loudest raspberry he could and resuming shaking his poor frazzled brother by the shoulders whilst gargling some sort of inarticulate howl.

The sheer tenacity with which Kopaka was holding onto that terrible mattress was probably only matched by a Bohrok's drive to clean.

Krahka's hyena-like cackle briefly interrupted his concentration so he could shoot her another positively deadly glare - which meant that he was taken completely aback when he was finally ensnared from beneath the armpits in a grapple, lifted halfway in the air, and launched together with his brother as the both screamed back onto the bed.

The Rahi kept laughing as the two tussled like a pair of angry manuls, needing to bend down on her knees before her lungs collapsed and she fell to the floor.

She waved at the worried friends to reassure them: "Let them, let them - pups like them need to play!"

"I think they're trying to bite each other," Nokama objected.

"That's a common play-pattern," her brother intervened too quickly.

While he nursed the shoulder she'd punched, the Ga-Turaga turned back to the still cackling beast: "What is this even about? What would elicit a reaction like this?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" Krahka howled back, overwhelmed by a fit of giggles for a few more seconds before she could return to a semblance of composure: "Your little Ice Toa is a big ol' show-off, is all! He decided he was good enough to recite a rhyme from memory as his first real attempt at speech, and he-"

"SHAT!" came from the mess of organic matter, promptly followed by a "SAYIT!" followed in turn by a loud frustrated shriek.

"And he did bad. Like really bad."

"SHAT!"

"SAYIT!!"

"NO!"

A loud, almost metallic sound rang out for a second, and then Pohatu yowled as he rolled on his back with his faulty leg that didn't seem to want to heal in his hands, accusing a certain degree of pain to the limb through variations of ahia-ahio-ohiohi-ahiuiah.

Kopaka pointed a finger at him as though he could have stabbed him with it, hissing: "Yu, de-serv, it."

His brother briefly stopped nursing his calf to slam a hand on his bicep in what would have more clearly been the first half of a crass gesture if he hadn't been laying face up in the spit image of a stuck dermis turtle.

"I could give you a penalty for that!" Whenua warned him.

To which the Toa of Stone rightfully protested, squashing his brother's face in his hands: "An ee don ghe uan?"

"By the tail of the Rahi Nui, you are abysmal at talking," Krahka sighed. "And you could do it from the second you were awake..."

"Shat ap, ayam jas fas."

"There is not a single right phoneme in that sentence."

"Ayam jas fas!"

The sound of their bickering did not bother the Onu-Turaga as he mused over the barely comprehensible complaint his brother's Toa had brought to his attention.

He turned to his sister: "What is it that you used to teach in Metru Nui, again?" he asked, "Was it hystory? Or language?"

"A bit of both," she replied, the hint of a twinkle in her eye telling him that she must have caught on to what he was thinking: "Though literature was also on my curriculum."

Whenua made a big show of humming and thinking, even playing with the chin of his mask like he'd once seen some Ko-Metru scholars do when they were so deep in their mostly useless ponderings that they wouldn't even notice where they were going until they smacked their faces against a wall, before litting his pale green gaze finally settle on Kopaka's dark face.

The organic Toa was giving him a look that promised frigid anguish if he even just thought of putting his idea in motion.

"Does your leg hurt very badly, Pohatu?" the Turaga asked with not a single hint of fear towards the silent threat at him, since he knew it was all hot air anyways.

A disgruntled wail was answer enough.

"Then a penalty for Kopaka is indeed in order. I'm certain you're curious about that rhyme they mentioned he could recite, sister?"

Kopaka hissed through gritted teeth: "No."

"You don't get a say in this," Whenua shut him down immediately.

"No!"

"Why, dear brother, I am curious," Nokama replied.

"No!!"

She laughed a little more gently as she noticed the Toa's embarrassed darkening cheeks as he sunk his nails into the mattress, and waved at him reassuringly: "Oh, come now, I've heard all sorts of terrible recitals in my time from Matoran who should have had a much better grasp on their tongue than you do right now, it'll be nothing special! Here - come closer, say it into my audio receptor. That way nobody else will hear. Is that alright with you?"

For a second, considering the way he trembled in his seat and the perfectly immoble seething squint of his eyes, her interlocutor seemed moments away from grasping her mask and disassembling her entire body like a puppy tussling with a porcelain doll.

Then, blushing so furiously that his face might as well have been made of coal, he did lean very close to the Turaga (avoiding eye contact at all costs) and complied.

His lips moved imperceptibly for a few seconds, making almost no sound at all.

He was so quiet in fact that Nokama had to interrupt him and ask, as sweetly as possible: "Could you repeat that a little louder, please? I can't hear a thing."

Head sinking into his shoulders from embarrassment, hearing Krahka's mocking giggles behind him, and feeling Pohatu's eyes pierce holes into his back, the stoic Toa of Ice thought the loudest most terrible curse that could come to his mind in the hopes that it would automatically transfer into their brains and raised his voice just enough for the Turaga to actually make out the words.

If he had gotten a limb cut off it would probably have been so much less painful than this.

The second Nokama pulled away and joined hands in front of her mouth to carefully choose her words he was frankly ready to just spontaneously shatter into a quadrillion pieces.

He did crumble a little when she placed a kind palm on his arm.

"It was a commendable effort, and I praise you for trying your best in your current conditions," she started, so immensely sweet in an attempt to soften the blow that was inevitably coming (she stopped briefly to shut up Krahka's new batch of chuckles with the most killer glare in the repertoire of any being of Water) before finally taking a long breath and admitting: "But that was really, really bad."

Kopaka curled into a ball, lowered himself to the floor, and scuttled under the cot and across the room in pure shame.

Pohatu nearly choked again as he laughed as loud as he could.

He choked for real when his brother landed a whole elbow in his stomach with a pounce that would have hurled the both of them right off the bed if the Rahi present hadn't shifted just in time to contain them - though that could not stop him from contuining to howl his hilarity, all while getting pelted in as many furious slaps across his face and body as the Ice Toa's hands could withstand before they caught on fire.

--

*Organic beings don't have anything to produce most of these sounds with, and even when they can only a few can be modulated. They did discover a variety of purrs and tongue-clicks - and that they can do those weird lip-teeth-tongue squeals - but they can't articulate much else.

[novankenn]

I'm a WHAT?!?!? (3)

Pyrrha as she watched Jaune try and steady the massive sword, realized something. Jaune was no where near as tall as he used to be. In fact she was pretty sure he was over a foot shorter that normal. As she pondered that oddity Jaune had gotten his sword in position and before Pyrrha could react he charged.

"AHHHH!!!!" Jaune screamed at the top of his lungs as he charged forward towards the gooey creature.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha yelled in alarm as the beast lashed out with multiple tendrils at Jaune's charging form.

"HIYA!" Jaune shouted as he swung the massive sword.

Everyone was perfectly still, and stared in utter shock as the sword's blade literally shattered, shower Jaune and the area around him with good sized shards of metal.

"Pathetic! You're mine now girly! the creature's gurgling voice filled the air as the tendrils that had shattered Jaune's blade snapped about and latched onto Jaune.

"EEP!" Jaune squealed as the slimy and gooey appendages touched him in places the shouldn't. "STOP THAT!"

"What a disaster." Onee-Chan groaned, as she watched the beast continue to molest it's captives, growing stronger with each passing minute. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

"We have..."

"If it wasn't for that IDIOT, you would have been the Magical Girl... and this would NOT BE HAPPENING!"

"Say what?"

"I was aiming for you." Onee-Chan admitted as she crossed her arms over her chest and adjusted her position in the air to appear to be sitting as if on an invisible chair. "You're the one with the massive magic potential... I have NO idea how my energy even allowed him to transform!"

"Well we have to..."

"AHHHH!!!! LET GO! DON'T TOUCH ME!" Jaune shrieked in utter terror, causing Pyrrha to just react. Reaching out with her semblance she latched onto all the shards of Jaune's destroyed weapon.

"So good!!! So much po.... URK!" The gurgling voice was cut off as Pyrrha launched the assorted jagged and odd sized pieces of metal at the beast... slicing it to ribbons.

"THAT is why I had chosen you!" Onee-Chan shouted as she clapped her hands in excitement.

Pyrrha paid Onee-Chan no attention as she watched Jaune and the other victims slowly stand, and the remains of the creature evaporated away. Seeing Jaune trying to rearrange his disheveled clothing, Pyrrha power-walked forward and grabbed him by the wrist.

"EEP! Pyr?"

"Change him back!" Pyrrha snapped fixing Onee-Chan a rather aggressive look. "Now!"

"I can't." Onee-Chan responded, her face showing her frustration at the situation. "Once my powers are used to make a selection that's it. There is no going back."

"What?" Jaune again shrieked, "You mean I'm stuck like this?"

"Of course not, idiot." Onee-Chan snapped. "You can transform at will. Just think about being yourself and it should..."

In a flash of light, Magical Girl Jaune was replaced... with normal Jaune much to Pyrrha's relief/

"Is it all over?" Jaune asked, his voice slightly wavering.

"No." Onee-Chan replied. "There will be more of those creatures, and you WILL have to step into stop them."

"But... I..."

"You're magic is too weak! You'll need to train," Onee-Chan snapped, before pointing at Pyrrha, "And you'll train him!"

"Me?"

"Her?"

"Yes! You! Train him!"

"How am I..."

"Teach him how to be a proper girl, that should increase his Magical strength when he transforms."

"Say what now?" Pyrrha and Jaune spoke in unison.

"You heard me." Onee-Chan snorted. "I'll be back to check on your progress."

"Wa..." before Jaune could finish Onee-Chan had vanished in a small burst of light, "...it!"

A/N: Okay I think I can step away from this now that I've set up the main idea... thanks for reading, and I will be adding more... at some point.

/== Table of Posts ==/

[tobysbliss]

If you're still doing fics for the prompt list you posted, could you do 3 with lee!wilbur ler!niki? Either C or CC works :) /nf

it was discussed through dms that another ler was chosen because i dont write for niki

prompt list:

3. “Make me~”

lee!wilbur (revivedbur) (he/they) ler!tommy (he/xey/they)

i wanted to do

c!crimeboys

because

them /pos

i went overboard oops dont care

They didn’t even know what they were arguing about. All they knew at this point, was that they wanted to be the one in the right.

This was a common occurrence with Revivedbur and Tommy— they’re brothers. It’s bound to be normal.

“Just admit that you’re wrong!” Wilbur exclaimed, bringing up a hand to push his white streak of hair our of his face.

“I’m not wrong! I’m always in the right, so you’re wrong!” Tommy shouted back, doing the exact same motion Wilbur had done to xeir own white streak.

“You are such a child,” Wilbur shook his head with a small smirk beginning to form on their face. “A little, immature child.” Tommy’s mouth was wide open, as if in disbelief at the comment.

“I am not! You take that back!” Tommy crossed their arms over his chest, fake pouting.

Wilbur’s smirk became more evident. “Make me~”

Tommy paused.

Oh, so this is how he wanted to play? Well then..

“Gladly.” Tommy spoke before pouncing on Wilbur, quickly and easily pinning the brunette down with the advantage of having caught them off guard. Xey quickly grabbed both of Wilbur’s wrists with one hand, holding them out of the way as he used his free hand to claw and vibrate xeir fingers into the older’s ribs. The reaction was immediate.

“TohoHOHOMMY! NOHOT THIHIHIS! FUHUCK!” Wilbur shrieked, pulling for his arms to be free and fight back. Inevitably, he failed as they were already weak from one of their worst spots being targeted immediately.

“Take it back, Wil!” Tommy shouted over Wilbur’s loud laughter, bringing xeir hand down to pinch and drill into his hips.

“NOHOHO!” The sensations were maddening, Wilbur thought he might die right there. How the fuck had they managed to let their little brother take him down so easily?

“No? Okay then..” Tommy said, waiting a couple seconds to pull Wilbur’s shirt up to his lower ribs. Xey looked at the brunette’s scar for a moment.

“Tohommy? What the hehell are you dohoing?” Wilbur’s confusion changed to panic when Tommy lowered his head. “Wahait- Wahahait Tohohommy no- Tohohohommy nohOHOHOHO! FUHUHUCK!”

Wilbur threw his head back in loud, happy cackles as Tommy blew a large raspberry right on his scar on his stomach. Tommy let go of Wilbur’s wrists, using one hand to hold xemself up and the other to switch between targetting the brunette’s ribs and hips. They laughed alongside his brother, he had always found their laughter to be contagious.

“OKAHAY! I’M SOHOHORRY! PLEHEHEHEASE!” At the plea, Tommy immediately stopped and got off of Wilbur soon after. The brunette moved to lay more in Tommy’s lap and then curled into a ball.

“You alright, Wil?” Tommy asked, running a hand through Wilbur’s hair. The brunette nodded, turning to lay on his back and look up at Tommy.

It took everything in Tommy’s power to not coo aloud at Wilbur.

The man was laying there with the widest smile and a bright red face, he had tears at the corner of his squinted eyes, he still had one arm wrapped around his torso, which Tommy assumed was because they were scared that xey would tickle him again. Wilbur’s hair was a mess, the fluffy brown curls were just all over the place yet somehow the man still looked cute.

“You are absolutely adorable- Holy fucking shit. Why don’t I ever get to see you like this? I need to tickle you more often if it means I get to see this, man!” Tomny rambled, giving Wilbur a few pokes to his stomach which earned high pitched giggles and a muffled “nohoho!” as they covered their mouth with their hand.

Despite his protests Wilbur couldn’t say he hated this. Infact, he loved it. He’d never say that outloud, though. He has a reputation to hold!

“TohOHOHOMMY! NOHOHOT THIHIHIS! FUHUCK!” Wilbur shrieked, squirming and kicking and shaking his head wildly as if trying to distract themself of the sensations. His glasses fell off his face, and Tommy stopped for a second to move them to the side so that they wouldn’t break.

[opinated-user]

I have a odd question

I was going to ask this as a whole gotcha to LO but I feel like I should ask if anyone had a closer eye on her during something that happened. did LO even mention what happened to Stitch by the founder of Dreamwidth when End OTW Racism was just getting started (sorry I don't have a question mark here, the keyboard may be busted). I kind of need to know for two reasons, the answer can be ether bad or worse like if she did then she was using some one again as a shield while the worse is that Stitch was only usfuel to her if stitch could be used as a tool to bash a ship and just got bored with her. a few good sources to what happened if you don't know are pearwaldorf's post on tumblr " we need to talk about Rahaeli " , on nitter dot net scarletgumboots status 1670660614686113799 (you might want to add slashes when you try to put the web address in) and a few pieces from dreamwidth " 2023-06-17: no_detective: well that's gross. " , " 2023-06-19: naye: I cannot believe I am having to write another one of these pos " and " 2023-06-20: amara1783: *shrieking eel noises* at the latest Fandom Racism "

all of that happened in June this year, right? no, LO didn't say anything about Stitch specifically then, not that i can remember or i can easily see on her blog. the very first post that ever talked about Stitch was quite literally just a reason to bash reylos. after that LO does make references to Stitch receiving harassment ("even worse than mine", this wasn't a competition, LO), but i noticed she's not very specific about anything and i don't know if that means something or not. only now is that LO is telling people to "go support my friend" with links to their social media, which... might be the one and only time LO correctly understood "supporting a POC". she still ruins the point by making the video where she does that about white men and not about appreciating the works of more than POC, but it's the sorta the minimum and, when it comes to LO, the minimun is a pleasant surprise.

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Sarah ran after Seth, struggling to keep up. Cesar had been missing for a week, but now that Seth had entered his wolf form, he finally caught a whiff of his scent trail. It was a miracle, truly. The universe must've decided to bless them by keeping the sky and the land dry.

The wolfman came to an abandoned barn; he stood in front of the doors, waiting for Sarah to catch up. She ran to his left, propping herself up by her hands on her knees as she caught her breath beside him.

"Guess… He's inside…? The doors are… are probably locked…" Sarah straightened her stance, pulling a flashlight out of her hoodie pocket. "Go ahead… Take 'em down."

And with that, Seth promptly crashed through the doors as Sarah flicked the flashlight on, pointing it into the darkness. She walked into the barn, pointing the flashlight around a bit before following Seth's direction. Cesar was huddled in a corner, facing into it as he clung to himself.

Sarah gasped excitedly. "Cesar!" She began to approach him when he suddenly jerked his head to the side, staring at her over his shoulder with an unblinking eye. His breathing began speeding up as his pupil dilated slightly. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Sarah froze while Seth growled.

Then a familiar voice began giggling.

But it wasn't Cesar's, oh heavens no. It was a dead man's voice.

Sarah couldn't respond before Cesar sprang at her, fangs extended and chin split apart. She dropped the flashlight as Cesar tried to bite her. Luckily, she pushed him away before he could. She put two and two together, a terrifying conclusion burning into her mind.

Cesar was literally starving, which means he'll only consume human blood; he won't even consider bloody steak "edible" in this state. And he won't stop at anything to get it.

Obviously, the shove pissed Cesar off. He pounced on Sarah again, this time knocking her to the ground.

"OOF-!" She grunted as her back slammed against the ground, Cesar coming down with her.

She was panicking now, running purely off of adrenaline and instinct. She thrashed around desperately, her attempts to free herself all in vain. Seth was growling and audibly caught in a scuffle with something; it was most likely the being with the dead man's voice.

Sarah shrieked as Cesar planted his teeth in her throat, fairly quickly dying down into gurgling. She heard an especially loud snarl with a series of loud snaps, followed by the dead man's voice screeching and the creature fleeing.

Seth tackled Cesar off Sarah, which only caused her to bleed heavily and begin choking on her own blood. Cesar's starved state paired with the immense blood spillage led to him wrestling Seth with everything he had. A pained yelp was the last thing Sarah heard before she blacked out.

~···~

Sarah weakly opened her eyes, rhythmic beeping telling her she was hooked up to hospital machines. She tried to make a small noise but discomfort climbed up her throat, silencing her. Her eyes were slowly focusing, though remained half-lidded.

"Sarah…? Are you awake right now…?" Seth asked, his voice gentle and soft.

Sarah didn't know if nodding would be wise, so she blinked as a response instead. It was surprisingly difficult, but generally wasn't much of a struggle.

"Oh my god…" Seth's voice quivered.

Sarah gave him a look she hoped would be understood as 'What's wrong, Dad?'

"I've been alone for a while… Cesar won't leave his room… The only times I ever see him anymore is when he gets food… I don't know if he's upset with me, or himself, o–or—I–I'm sorry, you probably don't want to hear about him right now."

Sarah gave him a mostly neutral expression. She knew Cesar didn't mean it, and that it only happened because she was the only human there. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But… she was scared just thinking of him. She really didn't want to be, but she was.

DAMN. /pos

Don’t know what to add to this, I just like it-

[midnightfoxbackup]

I don’t think you understand how long this took me to do all together-

NOOO I CAN’T DO THE “CONTINUE READING” THINGY- anyways

Charlie:

He’s a ler and you can’t change my mind. He attacks everyone just because he can. They look nervous? He tickles them. They’re tired? He tickles them. Being too silly? He’s gonna tickle them. Ya get my point lol

He only gets tickled when they retaliate or get revenge. He’s not that ticklish but the rest of TSB’s make it work

Neck/ears: 1/10, melt spot

Shoulders: 0.5/10, just barely ticklish, only gets him wiggling and smiling

Armpits: 5/10, will whack you if you don’t pin his arms

Ribs: 6/10, squeals & squirming 

Sides: 7/10, literally might pass away

Stomach: 3/10, squirms & giggles

Hips: 6/10, shrieks & thrashing

Legs(knees, thighs, calves, shins): 4/10, he’s gonna kick you no matter what. Sitting on him? Knee’d in the back. Not sitting on him? Will go out of his way to kick you. Lots of giggles & squeaks.

Phil:

Father- Father Philza- /pos 

He tickles the goobers all the time, like the father figure he is

But he’s surprisingly or not extremely ticklish so he gets targeted too

Ler-leaning switch in my opinion 

Neck/Ears: 2/10, giggles and squeaks Giggleza Minecraft

Shoulders: 0/10, he’s magical 

Armpits: 11/10, call an ambulance because he’ll pass away 

Ribs: 4/10, not that bad but still

Sides: 5/10, “wahahait! Nohohoho!” Is the only explanation you can have just because I’m so silly 

Stomach: 6/10, just a lil worse than his sides. I feel like the sides of his stomach would absolutely obliterate him

Hips: 7/10, gonna get kicked no exceptions 

Legs: 2/10, lil kicks & giggles

Tommy:

OH MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS HE GETS ATTACKED THE MOST- but he’s not complaining.

I swear he’s such a fucking lee but can be really mean as a ler if he wants to be

Literally so freaking ticklish the wind could tickle him

Neck/Ears: 3/10, giggles and squeaks

Shoulders: 4/10, more giggles & squeaks, squirming is guaranteed

Armpits: 5/10, eh 50/50 situation. Not horrible but he’ll still be laughing 

Ribs: 6/10, he’s a goner if something does the rib counting thing to him

Sides: 9/10, he calls his sides his “soft spot” because that’s less embarrassing than “tickle spot” to him

Stomach: 9.5/10, a little worse than his sides but barely noticeable 

Hips: 8/10, thrashing lil guy- like damn he’ll end up flinging the ler off of him

Legs: 7/10, just because he’s long- that’s the only explanation long legs = more ticklish(definitely how that works)

Wilbur:

Big bro Will is deathly ticklish but he can like turn it off if he expects it if that makes sense?

Only Phil knows how ticklish he is because he’s surprised him with tickles (it escalated into a tickle fight, Phil won because Wilbur tapped out as soon as he got his knees)

Bro is a scary ler like damn-

Neck/Ears: 4/10, gonna shake his head a lot. Lots of giggles and squeaks

Shoulders: 6/10. Once Phil gave him a shoulder massage because of how tense he was, and Will was just dying. It did make him relaxed tho

Armpits: 0/10, however that spot in between his ribs and armpits is horrible

Ribs: 8/10, laughter turns to cackles the higher up you go 

Sides: 7/10, his reaction depends on if he’s caught off guard or already being wrecked

Stomach: 8/10, sides of his stomach would probably be 9/10 tho(bonus; I feel like he’d absolutely be a cackling, thrashing mess if you do the “tktktktktktktk” tease)

Hips: 12/10, he’s gonna thrash like his life depends on it

Legs: 974334689642167/10, instant death. Can’t stand tickles there for a long time

Ranboo:

LITERALLY SUCH A FUCKING LEE BUT HE RARELY GETS TICKLED & IT MAKES HIM KINDA SAD /pos

Walking tickle spot, like I swear his hair sometimes tickles him because it’s so long

Prefers being on the receiving end but he can be a ler if needed, really sweet n’ soft one tho!

Neck/Ears: 3/10, giggle spot. His jaw is a melt spot, but it’s really flustering to them.

Shoulders: 2/10, tickles enough to make them squeak & smile. Doesn’t make them giggle or laugh, so they get really embarrassed because they’re only squeaking and wiggling

Armpits: ♾️/10, will die instantly. You’re absolutely mean if you tickle him there he likes it tho, so dw

Ribs: 7/10, not super bad but still up there

Sides: 5/10, either giggles or laughter, no in between 

Stomach: 8/10, bad spot but they’d cover their face or just hold onto the ler’s hands, not pushing them away 

Legs: 7/10, thighs and knees are really bad, but calves/shins aren’t that bad

Thank you for taking the time out of your day to read my million page essay

HDJSHEJRBJD I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SO MUCH THANK YOU

[chemmerson]

EMMY! Congrats on 300 followers 😘😘 I'm so proud of you!!! Could I have prompts 19, 20, 33 and 44 (feel free to choose) with the man himself, Kakashi? ❤❤ thank you su much and congrats again!! - Po

MY LOVE PO...okay im so sorry this has taken so long but i wanted to get this right, just for you! i cannot thank you enough for the support you have given me on my writing. i hope you enjoy this my dear friend!! thank you for everything always <3

Prompt #20: “If you die, I’m going to kill you.”

Prompt #33: “You are such a nerd.”

Prompt #44: “I’m only here for the dog.”

Pairing: Kakashi/Fem civilian reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Kakashi has a crush on you, a seamstress and loving dog owner (plus team 7 shenanigans I couldn’t resist)

Warnings: none, just fluff and the kids being adorable little snots i love them

A/N: im trying to get my confidence for writing back…and i can’t say i love this but pls be patient with me as i try and put myself back out there :))) love u all very much

“Kakashi-senseeeeiiiii.”

“What is it, Naruto.”

“I’m tiiiiireeeed!”

“Shut up, dobe. Your whining is giving me a headache.”

“Yeah, Naruto! Besides, we’re all tired after that mission.”

Kakashi almost rolled his eyes but kept them firmly fixated on Icha Icha as he walked lazily down the street next to his fussy students. How they could be so tired after a day of only yard work was beyond him. Kakashi sighed at the thought. He really had his work cut out for him with these three…

“But Sakura-chan! My nose is all itchy and stuffy from the grass! Can I borrow your handkerchief?” Naruto pouted, sidling up next to her while he mustered up his best pleading eyes.

“Ew!” Sakura pushed him off of her with disgust. “Gross, Naruto! I don’t want your grassy snot all over my handkerchief!”

“But we’re teammates!” Naruto protested, now walking backward in front of the group with his hands behind his head. “Sharing makes us closer, you know.”

“How is sharing supposed to make us any closer?” Sasuke mumbled.

“Uh,” Naruto thought hard for a moment. “Well…it’s like how Sakura-chan and I use the same toothbrush!”

Sakura stopped dead in her tracks, followed by everyone else. Kakashi didn’t dare lower his book as he waited for the inevitable.

A sharp shriek filled the air, and both Naruto and Sasuke shrunk back in fear. “Naruto! What did you say?”

Naruto’s eyes widened in fear and he began scrambling for an explanation. “W-Well..I, uh, I…”

Sasuke pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dobe…”

Kakashi cleared his throat. “Naruto, that is…extremely disgusting.”

“Disgusting! Disgusting doesn’t even scratch the surface! It is beyond disgusting!” Sakura began, waving her hands frantically, voice filled with tension. “It’s absolutely revolting! Naruto, what on earth do you mean ‘we use the same toothbrush’?”

Naruto scratched the back of his head frantically. “I, well…okay, so, one time we were on a mission and I forgot my toothbrush! And well…I didn’t know what to do, and I just saw your toothbrush in your bag so I…just used it really quickly! And then well…I forgot it another time too and then I thought since I already used your toothbrush and you didn’t notice I thought it would be fine…”

“It is totally…” Sakura gritted out. “…completely not fine, Naruto,” Sakura made her way slowly towards Naruto with clenched fists. “It is actually completely unforgivable. And you are going to so totally pay—“

“Ah!” Naruto exclaimed suddenly, pointing suddenly to something behind everyone with a shaky finger. “Look who it is!”

“Yeah, like I’m gonna fall for that, Naruto!” Sakura grabbed Naruto by the collar with a fire in her eyes. “I’m not that stupid—“

“No seriously!” Naruto shrieked. “Look!”

Kakashi then turned around along with Sasuke and Sakura to find a rather pleasant surprise.

A dog. A familiar, fluffy grey dog. One who Kakashi knew the owner of.

“It’s Yuki!” Naruto breathed a sigh of relief when Sakura let go of his collar.

“Yuki,” Sakura tilted her head as the dog ran up to them excitedly. She seemed to have forgotten about her anger at Naruto. “What are you doing over here?”

“Hn,” Sasuke watched Yuki. “He’s always running away.”

Yuki ran up to Kakashi then, wagging his tail and panting with excitement. Kakashi put his book in his pocket with a smile and bent down to pet Yuki, scratching him behind his ears. “What are you doing out here, Yuki?” Kakashi said quietly, amused at the way Yuki rolled over onto his back to receive belly rubs. “She’s probably worried about you all the way out here.”

But knowing you, you probably wouldn’t be too worried since the neighborhood was used to your dogs roaming about. But now that Yuki was all the way over here and ended up seeing Kakashi and his students…

“Well,” Kakashi sighed. “I guess you guys know what this means.”

“We get to go bring Yuki home!” Sakura beamed with excitement.

“Oh yeah!” Naruto pumped a fist in the air with the same enthusiasm. “Maybe that awesome lady will have cookies again!”

Kakashi, while he thought about correcting Naruto’s term of endearment for you, had to agree with him. Over the years of getting to know you, you were quite…awesome.

Kakashi met you years ago. You were a civilian who had started a tailoring business out of your home, a business that had quickly grown popular with shinobi who constantly needed their clothes mended. You had built a reputation of quality work, shinobi often commenting on how much better their clothes held up after missions. Kakashi knew how to mend his own clothes, but sometimes there was damage that was out of his skillset, so he had to go to you.

And ever since the first time he met you, Kakashi couldn’t quite shake the way you made him feel.

“Come here, Yuki!” Naruto held his arms out, and Yuki went running. Sakura giggled and bent down to pet the fluffy dog, and even Sasuke looked at the dog fondly when petting him gently behind his ears.

The kids knew you from around the village as well as your friendly dogs that often ran around the area. Kakashi and the kids had led Yuki back to your home at one time or another, and they loved getting to visit you.

Kakashi could say the same.

“Alright,” Kakashi stood up with a sigh. “Let’s go everyone.”

The kids chatted excitedly and beckoned Yuki to follow them while they started the walk to your house. Kakashi fell in step behind them and observed the way his stomach fluttered in anticipation to see you.

As he walked behind his chattering students, Kakashi thought about how this feeling seemed to accompany every encounter with you. Like how at the market the other day when you called his name while balancing several bags of groceries in your arms, kindly requesting that he grab a bag or two before you dropped it all. And how when he grabbed the bag from you, his gloved hand brushed momentarily against your soft one and he almost ended up dropping the bag himself.

And like how one time when he brought his jonin vest to you, ripped and bloodied and almost beyond repair, you pursed your lips with furrowed brows as you looked at it in your hands. “Come back in a few days,” you said, turning away from him with a shaky tone he had never heard from you before. And when he came back, you handed him a perfect vest. Looking at him with deathly serious eyes, you said to him, “Hatake…don’t ever bring me a vest like that again, you hear me? Because if you die, I’m going to kill you.”

He could never forget that encounter.

But now Kakashi was about to see you once again, and that feeling in his stomach was growing with every step through the neighborhood. He was sure you would smile at the kids all bright and joyful, and you would look at him with those kind eyes. You would be charming and lovely and warm and Kakashi would be hopeless.

Suddenly, Yuki started barking loudly, and Kakashi looked up from the ground he was staring at when he heard a sweet voice.

“Yuki! You troublemaker, I was wondering where you went!”

You popped out behind the side of your house, a watering can in your hand and a shining smile on your face. The kids all cheered, running ahead after Yuki as Yuki ran towards you. You beamed at Yuki before crouching down and meeting him with pets.

The kids crouched down too, and Kakashi slowly made his way into the yard where you all chatted.

“He was all the way over on the other street, miss!” Naruto started to ramble. “And so we called him and he came over to us and we were petting him and then Kakashi-sensei said we should probably bring him home to you!”

“Yeah, he said you might be worried!” Sakura added.

“Ah,” you smiled, and your eyes flipped up to meet his. Kakashi felt his heart leap into his throat. “That’s so nice of you to be worried about me, Hatake.”

Kakashi felt himself smile and was glad he wore a mask over his cheeks. “Well, to be honest, I’m only here for the dog.”

You playfully rolled your eyes while continuing to pet Yuki. “You are such a nerd.”

Just then, two other dogs rounded the corner, barking and wagging their tails. They ran right up to the kids, greeting them with kisses, and the kids erupted in giggles. “Hiro! Suki!”

While the kids played with the dogs, you stood up and walked around to Kakashi. Stopping right in front of him, you crossed your arms over your chest with a smirk. “So, only here for the dogs, huh?”

It was that look you had on your face that made Kakashi feel weak at the knees. “I, uh,” he cleared his throat. “Well, technically…I mean, I thought you might appreciate it if we brought him home…”

You chuckled. “Right. Though it would be more believable if you said you were coming over here to see me.”

Kakashi felt his skin tingle in heat all over. Did you know…?

Before he could begin to say anything, you rolled your eyes again. He must have made his reaction too apparent. “Kidding. Gosh, I’ve never seen you so tense, Hatake. Are these kids making you stressed out?”

No, Kakashi thought. You just drive me so insane I look like a blubbering idiot every time I talk to you.

And because looking into your eyes made Kakashi lose all ability to think of a coherent sentence, you two stood in silence for a moment before Naruto came barreling up to you, arms latching around your waist.

“Hey! Can we…please have a snack? We just had a mission and we are starving!” Naruto pleaded.

Kakashi flipped into sensei mode and was about to scold Naruto when you laughed. “Sure! You kids can head right inside, and I’ll be right behind you.”

Naruto whooped in victory, running over to tell Sakura and Sasuke. The kids got up to run inside with the dogs bounding behind them, and you began to walk away, following after them into your home.

Kakashi didn’t move though, mind going back to all the thoughts and strange feelings he had yet to say. Should he say anything? Would you reciprocate? Did you like him at all?

“You comin’, Hatake?” You had stopped just before him and turned around, eyebrow raised in skepticism.

Kakashi let his heart lead him. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Your face relaxed, and turning to face him, you smiled. “Sure, is everything okay? Did you get a rip in your pants or something?”

“No,” Kakashi cleared his throat again, and his hands nervously found their way into his pockets. “It’s about…Pakkun!”

Pakkun? Really?

You tilted your head. “Pakkun…? What about him?”

Kakashi brought a hand up to his neck and laughed dryly. “Uh, well…he’s talking a lot about…Yuki! You know, that one time they met each other…he…misses Yuki. And…he thought it would be fun to…go to the park again sometime!”

You stared at Kakashi, eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. “So…?”

“So…” Kakashi rubbed his neck. “Maybe…maybe we should go to the park?”

“We?” You questioned.

“I mean…we…would bring our dogs. And…they could play…” Kakashi finally got out.

I am really blowing this.

“So you want to go to the park again so our dogs can play together?”

“Yes.”

“For the dogs.”

“Yeah.”

“And is this a date?”

“Yeah—“

Kakashi stopped, his heart dropping into his stomach. “I-I mean…”

Suddenly, your finger was on his masked lips and you had gotten much, much closer to him. Leaning into his face, you smiled softly. “Because if this is you trying to ask me on a date, Hatake, you should have just said so.”

Kakashi’s chest swelled.

Your finger glided slowly over his lips and rested on his chin. “And my answer is yes.”

And then you were walking into the house, leaving Kakashi standing in the yard wondering what the hell just happened.

“Hurry up, Hatake!”

“R-Right.”

[sunflowerdaisybee]

pog! requests are open! okay so i've had this idea for a while, cc!beeduo doing a stream where they play horror games with reader, and the boys are trying to do everything they can to get reader scared and while ranboo and tubbo are screaming at jumpscares, reader's just sitting there like 😐 and they're just unaffected

so ranboo and tubbo give up on the horror games and end stream and decide to binge some horror movies, but that still doesn't get reader at all scared, so ranboo and tubbo give up yet again, that is until they're all getting ready for bed (sleepover with the boys pog 😩👌) that ranboo and tubbo just hear the loudest shriek from the bathroom and they rush over and reader's freaking out over a mouse that somehow got into the bathroom

so that day, the boys learned that reader is scared of mice and rodents in general and they constantly tease them about it

thank you as always author! -froggy/tori

I don’t understand people’s fear of mice, I think they’re cute, but oh well! /pos

Summary: Some things are scarier than the supposed to be scary things 

Pairing: P!Bee Duo X Reader

Pronouns: They/them

[A/n]: Requests are closed, please check back later <3

Tubbo huffed in disbelief, he and Ranboo had been trying to scare you all night with no success. They had tried everything from scary videos to sneaking up on you, none of it worked. Which ended them where they are now, sitting beside you and screaming for their lives as you played through one of the scariest games that either had ever seen.

“How are you not scared, Tubbo is on the brink of tears and I’ve almost pissed myself twice!”

“It’s just not scary.”

“Like hell it’s not, this shit is terrifying!”

“I suppose.” You shrugged, focusing on the screen in front of you as the game progressed.

“See (Y/n), even chat agrees that this game is scary. If you really aren’t scared you must be some kind of serial killer.”

“Or a psychopath.”

“Sorry to disappoint but I am neither, I’m simply not scared.” The two boys, sat on either side of you, nearly died from how heavily they sighed.

“Ya know what, pause the game.” Tubbo reached over and paused the game, swatting your hand away in the process.

“Sorry guys but we’re gonna end early tonight, I’m super tired and wanna get to bed. Goodnight!” Tubbo was quick to end stream, closing down everything and shutting down his setup.

“I didn’t even get to say bye to chat.”

“Yeah, what was that sudden ending for?”

“There is no way (Y/n) is this unscareable. Forget scary games, we’re watching scary movies now.” The movies had the same effect though, Tubbo and Ranboo were losing their minds and freaking out whereas you sat there unfazed.

“I don't get what’s so scary about this, it’s obviously fake. These jumpscares are super predictable and the ‘horror’ is cheesy enough for any kid to see through.”

“Speak for yourself dude.” You turned to look at Ranboo, who was covering his face with his hands, clearly not amused with the current scene displayed on the tv.

“Screw this, I give up!” Tubbo turned the tv off, storming over to turn the lights back on.

“I’m going to bed, if you need me you know where to find me.” Tubbo stormed off to his room, leaving the two of you to sit on the couch alone.

“You can head to bed, I’m gonna go to the bathroom and then I’m also gonna get some sleep.” Ranboo wished you a goodnight before gathering his blanket and heading towards the rooms, leaving you to do your business. Which would’ve been no problem if it weren’t for the fact that you were standing on the toilet, screaming for Tubbo and Ranboo to help you.

The two came rumbling through the door, Tubbo holding a shoe and Ranbo holding a broom.

“What’s going on? Who’s dying?” There was no response, only you pointing and whimpering in response.

“This?” Ranboo reached down and scooped up the small mouse, cradling the critter in his hands.

“Get that hellspawn away from me!” You were shaking in fear, hands pressed firmly against the wall in an attempt to steady yourself.

“You’re scared of mice? Of all the things to be scared of, out of all the games and scary movies we sat through. You are scared of mice?”

“You are never gonna live this down. Do you wanna hold him?”

“No!”

Taglist: @joyfullymulti @minty-ghast @rokkyy @duddum-froppers @mellohisallium @l0ver0fj0y

[lethalchiralium]

Wanna Be Myself | Jacob Seed x GN!Reader

a/n: don’t question it ok i am not well lol

inspo: wanna be myself by g-eazy

warnings: drug use, drugging, cussing, hurk and sharky being little shits, depression, suicide, suicidal thoughts, death

summary: how does one forget how to be themselves?

“Fuck this shit. Let’s go see Tweak.”

That was your third, fourth, fifth, and sixth mistake right there. One little sentence has you in a mannequin town, chasing pigs with baseball bats and completely fucked up on whatever drug Tweak had came up with now. Hurk was drinking away in a mine-cart and Sharky was failing epically at even catching a pig. Your entire body felt like a cloud and everything felt so funny, and so fast. Could you run this fast before?

Your bat kept hitting the ground and with every hit, a giggle left your lips. “Piggy! Come here!”

“Nooo! Don’t hurt ‘em!” Sharky shrieked, almost barreling into you as he launched himself forwards, trying to jump into the pig but he missed by a good two feet. You stumbled over him, trying not to kick his face and fell onto your front, rolling onto your back as laughter filled your chest and the air around your friends. Tweak slid down his ladder and raced over to you and Sharky - he couldn’t stop giggling.

“Come on Dep, try again!” Tweak whined and you waved your bat in the air, the world spinning again. You slammed the bat down, hitting Sharky in his chest and as he cried out in pain, you howled with laughter. You physically couldn’t stop laughing as Tweak scoffed, running off and yelling to Hurk, “Don’t get out of that cart!”

“That hurt!” Sharky sounded like a child and you moved to hit your bat on the ground again, the loud thump made your giggles multiply.

“Li-Listen to the thonk!”

Again and again, the bat hit the ground with the ‘thonk’, the howls of laughter were almost enough to attract wolves or bears - something that could kill you. The pigs squealed from across the field which angered Hurk from his little cart.

You didn’t even realize Hurk was there until you got him with your bat right in the nuts. He screamed and dropped the radio he was holding - your radio - and crumbled into a ball on the floor. You were screeching like a hyena, Sharky was barely even breathing at that point.

“Right in my nuts, man! Why’d you do that?!” Hurk was barely even speaking, you didn’t even care. All you could hear was the thump of the bat and someone talking through static.

“Deputy, answer me.”

A spark of joy set your body ablaze with happiness like a golden retriever, you looked towards the radio that sat near your head. While you kept hitting the bat and grabbed the radio, trying to press in the button but it was already stuck there.

“Hi baby!” Like a sweet bird’s song, you chirped to Jacob Seed, the man asking directly for you. “Hiiii.”

“Yes, hi, sweetheart. Where are you?”

You covered the receiver, like it would do anything, and stopped hitting the bat on the ground. “Do we know where we are?”

“Probably at Jesus.” Sharky answered and another loud cackle erupted from your lips, hearing Hurk’s muffled laughing as his face sat in the dirt. “I don’t know where he put us. Can we go and get froyo, Po-Po?”

Hurk laughed as he repeated, “Froyo! Po-Po! Froyo! Po-Po!”

He continued his chant as you leaned into the radio again, a smile on your face. “Wh-yy do ya wanna know?”

“Because…”

Sharky’s hand smacked your head, trying to hit Hurk but it only had you let out a rough laugh, “Watch it, Pyro!”

“Shut up!” Sharky answered, which earned a hit from the bats in the balls, just like Hurk. You cackled like a madman, the man whimpering in pain.

“Deputy, where are you?” Jacob’s voice was sweet, just like candy. You leaned into the radio again.

“I think I’m in the Henba- Sharly!”

Sharky had snatched your bat and rolled over a few times, farther away from your grasp. “It’s Sharky!”

“Give me my baaat!”

“Let’s go, Hurk! She’s gonna kill us!” Sharky bellowed and Hurk rolled too, they rolled away a few yards, cackling and talking as a sadness pooled in your chest.

“No fun.” You mumbled, arm rested over your eyes. “This was supposed to be fun and now I feel is sad and stupid and sad.” You let out a cough, a tickle in your throat. You put the radio next to your head and dug for your phone in your jacket.

The screen was too bright, you didn’t mind too much. The fuzzy, funny feeling was now gone, all you felt was small.

“I just wanna...” You had opened your photo gallery and looked at photos from years ago. Your hair was longer, a brighter color and your smile was real. Others were when you had short and dark hair, another was from your ex-boyfriend’s phone. A candid of you smiling somewhere sunny, your head was too fuzzy to remember. You loved that jacket and those shoes, you didn’t know where they went. Not like you could wear them anyway; you were the Deputy. You weren’t Y/N L/N who beat up bullies for fun in high school, or the one who shot a firework off in a corn field, or the one who hated where they grew up.

You were Rook now. The Deputy. The Savior created by God.

“I just wanna be myself.”

You shut off your phone and the radio came to life again.

“What do you mean?” Jacob’s voice echoed in your ear, you could hear the engine of his truck in the background.

“I hate the Bliss,” You answered, setting your phone on your stomach. “The stuff Tweak gave me - I just wanted something ‘cause I just wanna be myself.” You sniffled and moved your arm away from your eyes, seeing Hurk and Sharky begin to play sword fighting with the bats. “I never take the uniform off, I never fucking clock out.”

“Can you wait for me?”

“You’ll never understand.” A whisper came from your lips, looking up to the sky, watching the stars twinkle. “You never ever have to know what it feels like to forget how to be yourself.”

“Depu-teeee!” Hurk called from somewhere, your head was starting to hurt.

“I just want to do these fuckin’ drugs tonight ‘cause I just wanna be myself. I used to travel everywhere and I used to love someone with everything I had and I- I had a life. I didn’t have a purpose and I didn’t care - I wanted to stay who I was for forever ‘cause I was happy.” Tears fell down your cheek. “I really miss myself.”

The silence from the man you loved hurt. Even if he was listening, he could never love the real you. He loved the Deputy. He loves the Deputy.

“Decide now what you think of me, Jacob Seed.” You whispered. “You really think you love me? No one loves me, no one knows me; Everyone who did has either died or killed themselves.” A sniffle came from you. “I forgot how to be myself. You love the Deputy, Rook, Little Bird - how do you do that? Love a version of me and not me? I mean, fuck - this whole time - no one has asked my name. No one cares. I know you don’t.”

Jacob coughed, whispering softly to you. “Let me know you.”

“How can I if I don’t know how to be me anymore? That person who fucking watched their husband kill himself for years and kill your friends and then finally off himself in front of you. How could you love someone who had to throw themselves away and rewrite a new character? Here’s the answer-“

“Stop it.”

“You fucking can’t.”

The sound of tires stopping and the following footfalls were loud, you didn’t care. You wanted another dose. Maybe a couple more after that. You were confronting yourself because it made you feel better. Degrading yourself made you feel better.

Jacob stood over you now, your eyes hazing over as tears kept falling.

“Rafe was right. I’m damaged goods and I can’t help that.”

He kneeled near your head, tossing your radio away as his hands settled on your cheeks and your eyes really looked for his. His hands reached under your arms, pulling you to him and you turned, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You missed the syringe plunging into your neck until the rush of something through your blood made you let out a small cry. Everything kept getting fuzzier, your legs wrapped around his hips as your tears stained his jacket.

“I really miss myself, Jake.”

———

Copyright © 2022 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[dreamsclock]

(Sorry I'm not sure if requests are still open, but I wanted to give you a challenge ;b /pos) "Please don't cry." (angst sentence starters) with Schlatt and Dream. ~Minotaur

a challenge??? pft you call this a challenge??? /j /lh this was a LOT of fun - i like getting weird duos to write about, and these two certainly were some !! challenges are also fun >:) i hope this works :D

prompt: "please don't cry." (PROMPTS CLOSED)

warnings: torture aftermath, abuse/torture, death, suicide implications, blood, drowning, descriptions of past murders, emotional distress, prison arc themes, c!quackity critical (only mentioned!)

Dream appears in the Void for the fourth time that day. Schlatt doesn’t even blink.

“Please don’t cry this time,” Schlatt says offhandedly, nudging him with one sleek polished shoe, “fuckin’ Christ, he’s really doing a number on you, huh.”

Struggling to breathe, choking on blood and water from his last respawn, Dream can only drag himself to a huddled position on the ground, drawing his legs and arms in to protect his chest and stomach. The world world is blank and blank and bottomless and quiet; here, Dream can scream and cry and nobody will hear. It won’t be a weakness, it won’t be a failure. Nobody hears here.

(Nobody except Schlatt, who has seen him at his best and his worst and been thoroughly unimpressed by either. The most he gets from him is a raised eyebrow and sometimes a hand up, if he’s not too bloody and hysterical. The least he gets is casual boredom or impatience. Schlatt is hideously neutral, always has been, and Dream used to hate that he couldn’t read him. Now, it’s a blessing.)

So he doesn’t cry, and instead, when Schlatt offers a casual hand, he takes a careful, cautious breath, and takes it, staggering to his feet.

“Still not giving up on it,” Schlatt notes, watching Dream reacquaint himself with standing on weak limbs and lightheadedness from blood loss, “you know, this just seems a little fuckin’ stupid at this point. You know this is a lose-lose situation.”

“Can’t.” Dream’s voice is ragged, run raw with shrieks and pain. “If I give it to him, I die.”

Schlatt scoffs, lighting a cigar. “You’ll die either way, you know.”

And Dream does know, and he knows Schlatt knows he knows. But he’s always been a survivor if nothing else, clawing his way out of situations on half hearts and less leverage than he has now, and he’ll be fucking damned if he gives up now. Schlatt knows that too: Schlatt, Dream thinks resentfully, knows a hell of a lot more about him than he wishes he did.

(Schlatt knows a lot about everyone at this point. He’s spent enough time in the Void to sniff out its secrets, and he’s seen everything there is to see. Predictably, he’s apathetic to it all, though once admitted he goes back to watch Wilbur’s self-destruction via explosion sometimes. 

“It’s funny,” he claims, and Dream knows different.

He knows Schlatt watches Wilbur die, and watches himself die, and wonders how it all went to shit.)

“What was it this time?” Schlatt prods, giving Dream’s body a critical once over. “You look like shit, by the way.”

Dream swallows down blood. “Thanks.”

He chooses not to answer the question. He’s not sure he wants to share this with Schlatt, not sure he wants to share how he’d died. Not this time.

Schlatt looks bored. “Drowning? Axe? Sword? Shears?”

“No,” Dream mutters, pacing up and down and up and down once he’s on his feet and ignoring the pain in his joints (the Void is the only place he can move around so freely, and he wants to make the most of it before he’s snatched away), “not torture.”

“Not torture? That makes a change. How many times is it now? Fifteen? Sixteen?” Schlatt barks a laugh, dark eyes never removing themselves from Dream, looking remarkably unconcerned. “Do you even fuckin’ know?”

...He doesn’t. Dream elects not to tell Schlatt that the past four times he’s died he hasn’t been lucid. He doesn’t even remember dying, doesn’t remember Schlatt, doesn’t remember reviving himself. He thinks he’ll remember this time - this time is different.

“So what happened?” Schlatt goads, when Dream remains uncharacteristically quiet. “You trip? Crack your skull open? Did Q accidentally beat you to death? C’mon, spare a guy some fuckin’ gossip. Nothing else changes round here.”

“...I fell,” Dream says, averting his gaze, “into lava.”

“And didn’t run to put yourself out?” Schlatt’s voice has changed. It’s searching, despite its nonchalance; knowing, despite its carelessness, and Dream ducks his head in confirmation of the unasked question.

“I didn’t.” His hand spasms into a fist at his side. “I... didn’t try.”

And no amount of feigned lightness in his voice is going to change what he’s implying, no amount of hinting around the subject of his self-inflicted death is going to stop Schlatt’s knee jerk reaction - a furrow of brows, a glint of something that could have been concern, an open mouth with worries he’ll never voice. Dream waits for him to get over it, waits desperately for the response that takes just a little too long to come:

“Jesus fucking Christ on a stick,” Schlatt drawls, “a new low, huh, Dream.”

Dream flinches. “I can stay here for a while,” he says desperately, “Quackity left after the last death. I can stay here, just to regain my strength. And... I’ll even stay out of your way. I don’t need to leave straightaway to get back to him.”

Finally pulling his eyes from his, Schlatt scoffs. “Oh, no no no, buddy, I don’t think so. You’re gonna come here and ruin my afterlife with your fucking trauma and self destructive tendencies? I don’t fuckin’ think so.” He makes a shooing motion with his hands, ushering Dream away from him. “Get the fuck back to life or I’ll send you back myself.”

“Schlatt.” Dream’s voice wavers, but gives nothing else away. He doesn’t finish his sentence. It’s obvious why Schlatt actually wants him to return - he knows, if Dream stays here too long, he’ll never want to return. Because even oblivion is better than torture, even existing in a neverending black hole is an improvement from spending every waking hour in unimaginable pain. And Dream knows that, knows that if he doesn’t go back soon, he’ll grow adjusted to the Void, will want to stay permanently dead.

...And that means letting Quackity defeat him. That means all his torture, all his strength to keep going, will have been for nothing. And Dream knows that Schlatt knows that.

“Go on,” Schlatt complains, “get the hell out of here.”

Dream, breathing hitching, complies. The book glitters as it appears in his hand, and he whispers the incantation, jaw clenched tightly as he speaks.

“By the way.”

Schlatt’s voice catches him off guard, just before he respawns. Dream blinks, turns back to face him.

(He’s imagining the fiery look of determination on Schlatt’s face, isn’t he?)

“Yeah?”

Schlatt shoots him what might have been a scowl if it hadn’t been half amicable. “Don’t let that bastard win,” he drawls, before the revive magic snatches Dream away and deposits him back in the respawn pit. Spluttering, gasping and coughing for breath, Dream pulls himself out, collapses beside it with trembling limbs and the fragility of respawning. He turns himself onto his back, head tilted to the side, and shuts his eyes, waiting until the pain begins to ebb to do anything else.

...Schlatt’s words stick in his head.

Don’t let that bastard win.

Dream’s fingers close weakly into a fist.

He’s going to kill Quackity if it’s the last thing he does.