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clockmax · 2 years ago

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BORN TO BE LOST !

PAIRING: Jake sully X Fem!Navi!Reader

SYPNOSIS: When lost with jake, he seems to have his own way to shut you up.

A/N: I actually took so long to write this for 200 followers and now im at like 230 followers, oopsies im a little slow. Anyways, ily all. I kept worrying that this was a good fic since i tried something new, idk. Just hoping this is good since it’s my first time making a full length fic

REQUESTS OPEN

WARNINGS: not proofread, slight daddy kink, oral sex, slight dubcon, no verbal consent, p in v, praising, slightly public sex, pet names, fingering, overstimulation, porn with very little plot, slight biting.

How was it even possible to end up in a situation like this?

All you had been doing was hunting, learning from Jake as he taught you. Though, you both traveled too far into the woods, ventured off into Pandora’s box.

Your legs ached, limbs on fire from walking the forest for miles on end. No matter how many times you complained to Jake, he kept walking.

It felt like torture. The deeper you went it felt like the more lost you got. However, there was that spark of excitement. The spark of excitement to see Pandora in all its beauty, in all of its mother’s glory. But all that would be quickly drowned out by the fear of being lost. The overwhelming paranoia that a thanator could come out and chase both of you.

The fear was evident, out on display for anyone to pick up. The way you try to appear smaller, ears flat on your head as your tail wraps around the plush skin of your thigh. There was also visible pain.

The way your pace was much slower than Jakes's, back practically hunched as you heaved for air. You weren’t used to walking so far but in unexplored territory. The gnawing pain at your tendons as you moved.

“How much longer to walk? My legs feel like they're going to fall off.” You complained once more, trailing behind Jake like a lost dog.

“Can’t you keep that pretty mouth busy with somethin’ else sweetheart, can’t take you complaining anymore.” Jake grunted, beginning to grow annoyed with your antics.

How long could it have been? There was no telling how long you've been following him. The longer you walked, the more exhausted you became. It felt like your quadriceps were on fire, like your tendons could disconnected at any minute.

“Can we please just rest, I can’t walk any further.” You eventually fell down, exaggerating the pain by just a smidge.

“You better make up f’r the lost time, coulda been back home if you weren’t so slow.” The man walked over, his frame towering over you as you sat.

“Can’t we just wait for someone to find us? I’m not walking any longer.” The air felt hot as you tried to catch your breath, chest heaving as air filled back into your lungs.

Jake crouched down to your level, one of his hands roughly grabbing your chin.

“Gonna have to shut you up if you keep complaining, princess.” The way Jakes words flowed off his tongue with ease sent shivers down your spine.

The way his gaze was cold, almost looking at you with some sort of intent, one that was clouded by lust. The way his hands moved down the sides of your body, touching every curve.

A faint blush found its way on your face, the way your tail suddenly swished side to side as your ears perked up. The body language evident of how his touch made you feel, the way it was enough for you to melt in his hands.

But then reality gave you a good smack. The realization you were still lost, that anyone could find you two. The reality of the situation came back like a anvil, crushing your thoughts.

“Jake- we’re still lost.. Anyone could find us..” you mumbled, looking down as your eyes half lidded.

“Don't worry about them, sweetheart. Stay quiet f’r me and everything will be fine.”

Though no matter the amount of convincing Jake did, there was still that twinge of fear that also ignited an excitement deep in your core. The feeling sent a rush through your veins.

You could feel your body subconsciously pressing to him, lips crashing against each other. The way your body acted on its own before your mind could process, before you could give it a second thought.

“Such a beautiful girl, with such a beautiful body…” Jake mumbled, hands running over every inch of your skin.

His hands traveled down to your loincloth, undoing the material and moving it aside, gently removing your top as well. His lips kept to yours, the heat of your mouths infiltrating the air.

The way you gasped for air when pulling away, saliva slightly running down your chin, golden eyes looking at him. Your mind was so easily switched from rational to lust, body beginning to ache for the man.

Jake stood up, towering over you once more His hands moved to his loincloth, undoing it, cock springing free.

Beads of precum dripped from the tip, leaving a small spot on his loincloth. He looked down, watching the way you looked at it.

“Be a good girl and use that mouth f’r something other than complaining,” His eyes almost burned into yours.

He watched as you moved your head forward, lips encasing his member. The way your jaw stretched to fit him in, hands holding hsi thighs. It was a sight to see, the way your tears trickled down that beautiful blue skin of yours in an attempt to take him.

Your pace was slow, your jaw beginning to ache the more you moved. Jake grunted a little, the feeling of your warm mouth starting to send him into a frenzy. One of his hands moved to your hair, holding a chunk of it. Your pace stopped as you looked up to him, trying to tell his moves.

His hips pulled away, the tip of his c ock resting on your lips before he pushed himself back in. His thrust forced you to take him down your throat, listening to the muffle moans and whines erupting from your stuffed throat.

“Atta girl, look so much better f’r me when you’re on your knees.” Jake groaned, pleasure sparking every nerve in his body.

His hand stayed tight in your hair, gripping it to keep you in place. His hips rutted up into your mouth, cock bruising the back of your throat. Your body shuttered, wetness coating your thighs as you let him use you.

“Gonna swallow all of daddy's cum like a good girl,” Jake slipped out a moan, his hips increasing speed.

Your jaw aches and becomes sore, mouth finding it hard to take his large cock.His tip moving down your throat, leaving bruises in your mouth. Your tongue swirled around each vein, lapping up the underside of his dick.

“That’s it baby, just stay all pretty f’r me,”

Jake could feel his orgasm approaching. The way his hips became sloppy and uneven, the groans and small moans falling from his lips. His cock twitching your mouth.

With a few more sloppy thrusts, his seed spills into your mouth. It’s warm, slightly bitter but tasteful in a way.

He pulls his hips away, crouching back down, hand holding your chin once more.

“Swallow it, don’t be wasteful now, girl.”

His tone was firm, watching the way you so easily obeyed him, opening your mouth to show.

“Need you s’bad Jake..” you mumbled, thighs clenching together as your arousal began to drop down your thigh, slicking your cunt.

“Know you do baby, be patient sweetheart.” His hands moved to your hips, turning you around and pulling you to his lap.

Your legs opened for him, your cunt on display as the arousal dripped. His hand moved down, gently teasing you before his hand slipped to your heat, feeling it up for a second.

His mouth moved to your neck, gently biting at it as his hand lubed up with your slick, eventually finding the clit. The way the rough pads of his fingers rubbed at the sensitive nub, sending sparks of pleasure through your veins.

Without a small warning, his digits pushed past your folds. Velvety walls squeezing on him as you let out a gentle moan. He thumb kept to your clit, circling and flicking as his fingers curled in your heat.

The sensation was overbearing. Moans flooding past your lips, legs struggling to stay open. His thumb kept with the pace of his fingers, the motion bringing that tight feeling to your womb.

That smug grin of Jake’s was on his lips, the feeling of his lips curve up as he kissed down your neck. Marks of his dotting your soft skin.

“Feels good, yea? Gonna have to keep you quiet, gettin’ too loud for me princess.” Jakes hands with a swift movement went back to your jaw, two fingers entering your mouth quickly.

Your hands held into his wrist, the feeling of your orgasm building up becoming overwhelming. The sensation and lewdness of it all has you in a frenzy.

Your orgasm washes over you with quick speed. Hips jerking up as you let out a muffled moan, legs shaking and closing in as you clench around his fingers.

Jake watches the way you fall apart in his hands, the way you shake and shiver from his touch. He takes pride in knowing you’ve become like this so quickly. The way you undo yourself for the touch of him, it’s quite entertaining to him.

“Good girl, doing so well f’r me.”

You nod, mind too fucked out for a proper response. Your body was already slightly shaking, limp. Easily moved as Jake put you on all fours, moving your head down to the ground and your hips up.

“You gonna let daddy fuck your cunt real good, yea?” He spoke against your neck, gently bubbling at the skin.

Before you could even provide a proper response, his cock was past your folds. There was a moan and whine that fell from your lips. The way his cock made you feel so full, the way his tip poked at your cervix, stretching you out in ways that made pain mix with pleasure.

“So fucking tight, all f’r me.” His hips flushed against yours, resting in that position for only a slight bit.

There was a moment for you to adjust before his hips move. His pace was relentless, hips snapping against yours, body shaking. You bit your lower lip to keep your noise down, body shaking as he slid in and out.

The grip he has on your hips was sure to leave bruises, the way he roughly used your body sent lust and desire to your mind. There was not a coherent thought anymore, your mouth blabbering whatever it thought of.

The way his cock was curved so slightly to hit your gspot each time he thrusted sent stars to your head. Your eyes half lidding as his pace kept up. Jake can’t help but let out a grunt at the way you clench around his length, body shuddering as it tries to keep up.

“‘M gonna- fuck right there-!” You almost shrikes, the feeling of his balls slappinf against your clot as he reached deep into your body.

“Gonna what? Gonna come for daddy again?” Jake said almost mockingly, biting down slightly at your neck again.

A moan slipped past your lips as your lip became free, pretty noises falling past your lips. Your body shook once again as that feeling came back to your womb but with much stronger force.

His hips came to a stop as Jake felt you squeeze around his cock. Your spongy walls pulsating around him as your slick dripped onto the grass, slickness coating jakes inner thighs as well.

“Damn girl.. you must be feeling real good, huh?” He teased, hips picking back up with the same ruthless pace.

The overstimulation hit hard, the way your walls became tighter, legs shaking as you shuddered. You couldn’t even talk anymore; moans falling past your lips every-time you tried to say something.

“Fuck, gonna coke inside you, baby girl.” It wasn’t up for discussion, his pace becoming sloppy as he thrusted.

His cock twitches inside you as he came, thick ropes of dim coating your insides. Jake let out grunts as he orgamsed. The feeling of your hot, right cunt around his dick sending him into overdrive.

He pulled out, admiring rhe way his cum dropped from your folds. Jake pulled you back into his chest, holding you close.

“That’s it, good girl. Did so well f’r daddy.”

Jake kept your body close, back pressed against his chest.His voice husky yet caring as he spoke. The air still felt thick and heavy, invading your lungs. Your body was calming down, breathing becoming more eased as you leaned back.

You two talked under the sky as he put your loincloth and top on for you, covering you in kisses as he caressed your sides. His touch was gentle this time, different from how rough he was.

As time passed, you felt yourself grow tired. Eventually falling asleep on his chest, his arms shielding you.

Now just one more problem.

Where the hell did you two travel off?

#jake sully #jake sully smut #avatar smut #jake sully x reader #miles quartich #miles quaritch smut #miles quaritch x reader #tonowari #tonowari smut #tonowari x reader

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dehydration-stati0n · 2 years ago

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Hi there! This is my first time requesting for this blog and I must say I enjoy your writing a lot! It's kinda hard to find good One Piece blogs so I was happy to stumble on yours!

I saw the friendship HCs and I loved Ace's a lot, so I was wondering if I could request a oneshot for Ace and his best friend reader hanging out together and reader stops midway and tells Ace to stand still and wait for them before they enter a jewelry store, and when they come back they're wearing a pair of red pearl bracelets similar to Ace's necklace and two pairs of earrings they brought so that they could match, I think it's a very wholesome idea since as you mentioned he'd like for us to have something that matches him!

I hope this made sense, English isn't my first language😅

Pearls{Platonic!Ace x Reader}

AHHAHA TYSM BABES I was hoping someone would request something like this, platonic relationships are one of my favorite things to write :))

Rules Word Count: 0.6k Spoilers: None

You leaned against Ace, the rays of the sun glowing down on the two of you as you sat on a crooked bench. You had agreed to follow Ace on his mission to find and assassinate Blackbeard. The passion and respect he held for his crewmates and captain had caused a certain adoration to grow within you. So much so that you couldn't find it in yourself to refuse him when he approached you that one night and asked you to come with him to avenge Thatch.

You now found yourself in an unfamiliar town. The two of you probably looked homeless with how casually you both wandered and slept on all these foreign islands. Just out in the open, with no regard for if you'd get shanked or not in a back alley somewhere. The carelessness of it all almost made the adventure more fun- more exciting.

Ace straightened up suddenly, causing you to also jolt upright against the warm wooden back of the bench. He pushed his hat back from over his eyes. "How long was I out?"

"15 minutes. You good to go?"

He stretched, grinning at you before replying with a simple, "Yeah,"

Ace's sleep habit was a little annoying at first but you eventually found little things to do while he was down. Your favorite thing was to people-watch. It helped to ground you back into reality a lot of the time and to keep an eye out for possible enemies.

The two of you then stood up and started forward once more, the warmth of the sun placing comforting arms around you as you walked with your best friend. It was moments like these that made it hard to feel anything but relaxed as you soaked in the feeling of peace. Your eyes fluttered open again and landed quickly on a peculiar store on the side of the dusty path.

You stopped suddenly, the ravenette crashing into you softly as you did so. "Hold on, I need to go in and grab something real quick." He saluted you as you disappeared into the shop.

A little bell chimmed as you pressed your body into the glass door, the shop was dim, but cozy. The warm, artificial lights that hung on the walls at random only added to the fuzy feeling it emitted.

Your gaze dragged over the nicely decorated place as you approached the register near the front. "How much for the red pearls?"

----------

You walked out, a smile on your face as you neared where Ace had fallen asleep on the road. You stared down at his unconscious body for a moment before kicking him gently in the side.

"Well? What do you think?" You asked, gesturing to your new accessories as he slowly stored awake.

Two bracelets made of similar red pearls to his necklace adorned your wrists, along with a pair of new earrings that hung five beads down from your ear. You jokingly posed for him as you watched his grin grow wider at the fact you were both now matching.

You let out a surprised yelp when you felt his arms wrap around you, squeezing you into his chest. His contagious laugh sounded next to your ear as he replied, "This is great! Now that you finally look good we can go and kill Blackbeard!"

You smacked him lightly on his shoulder, "Yeah whatever, I looked great before."

You sat there in his embrace for a second more, before he let go, draped his arm over your shoulders, and started to ramble on about this dream he had. You both strolled down the dirt path once again, giggling and shoving each other as you tried to come up with a plan to try and catch Blackbeard off guard.

#ace x reader #platonic ace #platonic one piece #platonic fanfiction #platonic fanfic #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #platonic ace x reader #ace op

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pianocat939 · 1 year ago

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Hi cat would it be ok to request a headcanon for yandere leo and mikey (separate please )x therapist reader? just like how you did with raph's and Donnie’s version? also love your writings! <3 (the cycle is now complete ~)

I don't have a banner for any duos obv so have photo

I kept this as platonic/romantic as much as possible, but a few points it's solely romantic.

Tw: mention of violence/manipulation, Mikey is starting a religion of MC, religious themes- quite a bit

Yan Leo + Yan Mikey with Therapist MC

(I'm gonna try out white stars this time-)

✦Lactose Broccoli✦

HOHOHOHO- He is getting his face smacked with the "please tell me your true feelings and not laugh it off for once". Now, at first, it's going to be difficult for him since he's always just used humour to push away his problems and mental instability. He's gonna be vague at first, only saying the simplest of things. But later on, will he admit all his feelings and thoughts affecting him.

Once he breaks through, he'll be the clingiest and most vulnerable mf known to mankind with his feelings. For example, let's say he comes back from a mission. The first thing he will do is talk about what he hated or what he had problems with to get it out of his head. Right after, he might ask for some cuddles or hugs.

But after you've helped him for a while, he's filled with the overwhelming need to pay you back. So what better way to show gratitude than to protect someone? He'll then be all about protecting you and being your prince charming who saves you from the witch's wrath.

Oh and- he'll get jealous quickly if you be someone else's therapist. If it's his family, he'll be more tolerant of anyone else? Dead. If you ever confront him about doing anything violent/manipulative with whoever you were helping, he'll just say he does it to keep you safe and not so stressed. When in reality, he wants to be the sole one of your attention.

"Darlinggg~ Can I have some snuggles~? I was so stressed from my battle." *insert whiny 1000*

✦Macaron Burner✦

Mikey is the one who's supposed to be the therapist. But he now gets the reverse card on him. I think he'll be both the easiest and hardest to expose all his feelings. From what I interpret, he'll say the surface and a few details of his personal problems and feelings. More than Leo, but still not absolute. But unlike Leo, who breaks all of his problems at once, Mikey is gradual. With every session, he tells more and more of his issues.

I think getting therapy opens a new perspective on him since he's always the therapist instead. So from then on, he'll be more reliant on others' help when it comes to repairing or assisting with the social or mental problems of others. He appreciates sharing the "workload" with you on any of his brothers.

After a few sessions, his delusions of you being his divinity get so much worse holy fuck. He'll fully believe that you are a higher being who had come down from whatever sacred realm to help him. He thinks you're so sacred that any advice or suggestions you give him he will follow no matter what.

He values your help so much that he will write "holy" texts based on your suggestions and advice to him. Once they're done, he will use those texts like some fucking prayer or worshipping book omg- he will make you into a religion. If you ever stumble upon them and find him suspicious, he'll just say it's "notes" of what you told him.

*Mikey is currently staring at a drawing he did of you in a religious outfit* "Oh my divinity~ I will never forget your guidance towards my self-worth."

——————————————————

I'm cranking through my inbox like crazy- they've been sitting there since the end of January omg-

Anyway- eat your goddamn food.

- Celina

#yandere #yandere x reader #rottmnt #tmnt #tmnt x reader #yandere tmnt #yandere rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #leo x reader #mikey x reader #rise leo #rise mikey

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quirkle2 · 1 year ago

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PLEASE PLEASE TALK ABOUT THE LEGENDS ARCEUS AU I'M SO NORMAL ABOUT IT <- LYING I AM NOT NORMAL

HI WE'LL BOTH BE NORMAL TOGETHER

(uhm warning for injury/blood/whump, parental death, uhhhhhhhhh fire? a lot happens (also idk if the read more thing has been fixed so let's pray. i refuse to smack these long ass paragraphs in front of innocent bystanders (this is so long. im so sorry)))

ok so reigen is the professor of the galaxy expedition team and u may be wondering how he got that job: lying :)! he claims he knows everything abt pokemon and that he's been studying them his whole life when in reality he's not even totally sure how many pkmn types there are. granted, the rest of the team doesn't either, so his ability to bluff himself out of any given situation is massively helped by their cluelessness

he just wants to sleep in a bed with blankets and eat food to survive and lying into the professor position was the quickest way he saw to get there. he'd been wandering in the wilderness for a while since coming to hisui before that and it kinda sucked. bro just wants a house in this crippling economy

mob n ritsu were originally from another village! they don't meet reigen until mob is 9 (ritsu 8). there's no powers in this au but mob's whole shtick is that he takes the,, extreme pacifist route i guess? he thinks pokemon r to be respected and loved and Not Bothered and he's against the use of pokeballs to store them and commanding them to battle each other, etc. essentially if he were in a modern era he'd think the way present-time people treat pkmn is, for the most part, cruel

anyway their hometown gets attacked by pkmn and the village is destroyed. their parents die protecting them, so 9-year-old mob was left to fend for himself n his little brother alone. they travel together kinda aimlessly for 7ish months until they get remarkably (unknowingly) close to jubilife village and come across that giant fuckin rapidash before the bridge

it's their first alpha pkmn encounter. neither of them have pkmn to defend themselves with (mob's reason: he ain't like that. ritsu's reason: He Is Eight and Scared). mob has always been able to empathize w pkmn a lot and sorta get a read on what they're thinking, so the vibes comin off that rapidash were rancid and he was worried abt it. mob has never been afraid of pkmn, not even the rly big and scary looking ones. so he approaches it with the intention of calming it down, seeing what's hurting it. he makes ritsu stay back in case things go bad

he's kicked in the head. if u forgot how big that rapidash is just google it. the hooves r the size of ur player character's head and ur player character is like 15. mob is 9. the fact that he doesn't die immediately upon impact is a miracle. the fact that he survives longer than 5 seconds after the fact is basically divine intervention

the doodle i made in the top left corner of ritsu screaming is this ^ encounter. he watches it happen, and then watches in horror more as the rapidash panics at ritsu's scream and rolls a flame wheel over his brother's limp form. ritsu manages to dive for him and run, but the kid is thoroughly terrified and traumatized

i'll spare u the horrid bits but long story short ritsu finds a cave to settle in and while he's rly inexperienced with medical treatment he does his best. his best isn't very good in the grand scheme of things but him being 8 is a pretty damn good excuse. he camps out there for Three Whole Days waiting for his brother to wake up or respond to literally anything but it isn't happening and the longer this goes on for the more terrified ritsu gets

mob's taught him how to survive pretty well all things considered, but ritsu is a lot more worried abt mob than taking care of himself and he ends up neglecting his own needs pretty fiercely. he feels too sick w guilt/fear to eat. he tries to stay up as long as he can in case mob stirs. by the end of it he's pretty worse for wear too

reigen finds them while out in the field doing research (wasting time). he sees a little kid half stuck in a bush looking for berries and when reigen tries to get his attention ritsu, who is extremely on edge and sleep deprived and scared, just straight up screams at him. reigen sees his dirty clothes and skinny arms and flushed face (fever. definitely fever) and alarm bells ring in his head to not let the kid go no matter what cuz he Will lose him otherwise

once ritsu gets his bearings and realizes this is a human (first one other than mob he's seen in forever) and not a pokemon coming to kill him he starts crying to him abt his brother and reigen feels his heart drop to his stomach bc if This kid is worried about a brother who is supposedly worse off,,, dear god

ritsu leads reigen to mob. the dressings around his arm where he was burnt are completely incorrect and most definitely horribly infected and ritsu didn't rly do Anything for the head injury other than clean the blood away bc well. again. he's 8. idek if eight year olds know what concussions are

reigen BOOKS it back to jubilife faster than he's ever ran and halfway through he realizes ritsu has passed out in his arms too (kid's probably exhausted beyond belief. reigen has no idea how long they've been like this but he guesses a while) everybody in the village is kinda horrified when the professor comes back with two hurt kids, one of which is on death's door. the medical team there does everything they can

it takes a while for mob to wake up, but thankfully he does in the end. reigen finds out thru ritsu that they've been alone for "a long time" (ritsu doesn't know. doesn't rly remember. reigen asks mob when he wakes up and mob says he stopped counting somewhere after day 140)

even though mob still isn't quite back to his old self and is still generally confused and Slightly Off, the doctors say he'll be okay after a few weeks and reigen has unintentionally gotten very attached to these kids. ritsu had told him their parents died during the attack on their village. they have nowhere else to go, and like hell is Any member of this village gonna be happy with simply throwing them out into the wilderness again. so reigen takes them in

anyway that's how they meet <3 GVEYAI mob is back to his normal self (the occasional Moment of Confusion comes around from the brain injury, but they taper off after a while) and reigen is very much surprised to see that mob, as ritsu has described to him, still very much loves every pkmn he comes across. he gets a bit nervous around rapidashes in particular, but other than that, mob is still just as caring and just as respectful as ritsu described him to be. ritsu is scared of bigger pkmn like any other kid is. mob is an exception, even after that experience.

reigen waits about a year so that they have time to settle and recover (and so that he has time to observe), and then he gives them each a pokemon. this might seem odd, but mob has never expressed any ill will toward Any pkmn, and ritsu still smiles at the smaller ones

he gives them a choice between the pla starters that have been hanging around his office. mob picks cyndaquil and names her cindy. ritsu picks rowlet and doesn't name him at all (this gives reigen pause, but ritsu seems to have a new fire in his eyes, so he brushes the worry away)

when they're of age (mob waits for ritsu to reach 13. they do everything together) they both join the survery corps, and mob ends up becoming reigen's assistant :]! reigen is admittedly a little worried abt this development, about his kids going out into the wild, but they both seem ready for it (ritsu seems ... a little Too ready for it considering his past) so he relents

mob has made his opinions about pkmn clear, especially to reigen, and reigen has ended up adopting some of his ideals since he met him bc they,, well thwy sound reasonable. they sound nice. mob doesn't ever put cindy in a pokeball, and cindy had never once been in a battle other than play fights with rowlet. mob treats cindy like any other normal pet, like a friend. he looks at those boxes of pokeballs in reigen's office with a frown. he finds the idea of fighting pkmn in the wild for sport despicable. he openly scratches out the pokedex tasks like "defeat 10 times" with disdain. reigen starts seeing another world that he never rly considered before, with mob

this is where reigen senses some,,, tension, between the boys. ritsu evolves his rowlet into a dartrix remarkably quickly since joining the survey corps, and not even a few weeks later he's a got decidueye on his side. ritsu catches pokemon left and right and if they're "not strong enough" he keeps them in pokeballs until he remembers they exist again. he works on building a team with no weaknesses, or as few weaknesses as possible. bro invents competitive pkmn

obviously, mob sees this and ,,, doesn't like it. he doesn't like how Distant ritsu is with his pokemon, with creatures that he wholeheartedly believes should be treated as friends or family. he doesn't name any of them, he spends nearly all his earned money from the survey corps on items that boost their strength, but almost no money toward items for comfort, or even treats, or toys. ritsu treats his team like they're tools. the relationship between ritsu and his pkmn is,, strained. mob can sense they aren't nearly as happy as they could be

but mob knows that he can't just,, police ritsu on how he should handle his own pokemon. he may not agree with how ritsu approaches the subject, or with how ritsu's first instinct for anything pkmn is usually "fight it," but mob knows ritsu Does like pkmn. ritsu's never hated pkmn, he's just,,, scared of them, sometimes. he thinks maybe this is his way of making himself feel protected. mob doesn't like the idea of taking that away from him, no matter how much seeing ritsu refrain from giving his team a break grinds on his soul

little does he know, ritsu's strictness with his pkmn isn't born out of a fear for himself at all. he's building a dependable team to protect his brother. that's the whole reason he's doing this, the whole reason he didn't name rowlet when he first got him. ritsu knew that if he were to do this, he couldn't get attached to them, bc losing pokemon in fights is a very real possibility. it's been drilled into each and every one of his pkmn's heads that they r to protect mob at all costs. if there's a repeat of That incident, ritsu doesn't think he can handle it (>:])

WOW THIS IS ALREADY SO LONG i haven't even gotten to the kleavor part yet. fuck. if ur still reading this can i have ur hand in marriage /silly

OKAY SO . The Game's Plot comes in, finally. took long enough. reigen starts getting reports of frenzied nobles and he's most worried abt kleavor bc it's rather close to them, and the village could very well be in danger if kleavor decides to say fuck you in particular. so reigen goes Hey This is an Actual Threat That Needs My Attention I Have to be Competent For a Sec and spends the next few weeks tirelessly searching for an answer for this kleavor. some of the staff have already gotten mauled by it. reigen cannot ignore this and put it on somebody else like he usually does

the whole town is getting antsy, and mob most definitely notices. ritsu's jumpy all the time anymore, like he expects kleavor to rampage through the streets any second now. reigen looks tired and worn down, and he's been coming home later and later. mob watches as reigen makes plans to use force against kleavor with a sour taste in his mouth. he tries to tell reigen that force isn't the answer here. reigen, bless him, doesn't know how to tell a kid that friendship and rainbows isn't always the answer

after another week or so, mob's had enough. they've gotten nowhere closer to calming kleavor and more people have gotten injured, so mob quietly writes a note and leaves it on his bed, makes sure he doesn't wake up ritsu or cindy, and leaves the house before reigen comes home. he sneaks out over the fence so the guards at the gate don't catch him. he sets off to go see kleavor

he fully and truly believes that force is not the answer. he fully and truly believes that if he goes up to kleavor with no pokemon to fight it with, no weapons or spears pointed at it, and just a calm voice and peaceful demeanor, kleavor will see there is no danger. the galaxy team's previous attempts have all centered around violence and scare tactics. nobody has recently come up to its territory without posing a threat. mob genuinely just thinks that kleavor needs calm

reigen finds the note. freaks the fuck out. immediately rounds up every person in the village that's capable of fighting and they march out of the village to save a kid who's in way over his head. reigen makes ritsu Promise him that he will not leave the village. he can see it in ritsu's eyes, the way he wants nothing more than the come with them, but reigen gives the argument that ritsu is their strongest soldier back home and they still need to protect the village from anything else while everybody's gone. it takes all of ritsu's self-control to not go against him (he's fully set on coming with them until reigen Grips him by the arms and says "i can't lose both of you.")

mob's plan does end up working in the end, but not quite perfectly and not at all in a good way. he steps into kleavor's territory and has it calm at first, but smth changes in kleavor's eyes and whatever Force that's corrupting it surges and kleavor snaps.

mob gets Fucked Up by that thing. sliced and thrown and clawed until he can barely stand up to run away, but it's the last blow that matters. kleavor comes down on him with a chop right to his middle and everything stops. there's a sizeable gash that cuts through mob's side horizontally and kleavor's axe is stuck in the flesh there, but once mob isn't moving anymore and nothing is making kleavor afraid, the fog in its brain clears and it sees what it's done

it also sees that mob is still awake, and despite everything kleavor did to him, he's still looking at it like he knows its capacity for gentleness. even through the pain mob looks at kleavor like he Knows this isn't what it's rly like. and as soon as mob sees the light return to kleavor's eyes he smiles, blood gurgling in his throat

kleavor hears shouts from the forest, sees torchlight and panicked yells for mob. it doesn't know what to do, don't like what it sees, what it Did to this poor kid. it winces when it has to slide its axe out from the gash in mob's side—the squelch it makes and the Noise mob lets out is the last thing kleavor needs to book it

u can only imagine how fuckin hysterical reigen feels when he sees mob on the ground like that. they brought half of the medical team just in case and reigen is rly glad they did bc if they didn't there's a good chance mob would've bled out right there within a few minutes.

he's in rly rly bad shape and is barely conscious by the time reigen grabs his face and tells him itll be okay. they bring him back to the village at record pace and every minute they take he looks paler. reigen is so scared the kid's going to die in his arms before they even get there

when they get to the gates someone from the medical team takes him from reigen's arms. reigen hears ritsu scream. the kid's shoving people away who're trying to comfort him and beelining his way to mob, but reigen catches him before he can fully see the damage bc he does Not want that bloody mess to be in ritsu's nightmares for the rest of his life

ritsu fights him and pushes him and shoves him away, screaming that he just wants to see his brother, but reigen holds him back and he ends up pulling ritsu close when the kid loses steam and just starts sobbing into his chest

to ritsu, he's failed again. to reigen, he's failed them both. to mob, despite holding onto the living world by a thread, he succeeded.

anyway that's the story so far VGEAYVUA I HAVEN'T .. FIGURED OUT TERU YET. or dimple. i know the gist of i how i want teru and mob's meeting to go tho. teru is just like ritsu but like . Worse when it comes to pokemon. uses them as tools and doesn't even rly think of them as sentient at all. until he meets mob that is :]

i'm thinkin he's the warden of sneasler! and yaknow what, just for shits n giggles and bc i love ingo too much to get rid of him, what if ingo is teru's unofficial teacher. what if. wouldn't that be fuckin hilarious and completely ruin any sense of consistency here. what if (it's happening)

i'm also pretty set on making dimple one of the wisps from the spiritomb quest that ends up following mob around. that's fitting i think

#qktalks #asterleavess #okay but like . i Just now thought of ingo and teru being teacher & student and it's kinda hilarious #ingo would be so fed up with his bullshit. i think ingo meeting mob would be like ''please make my student not an asshole''#''he's good at heart i know he is. he's a very good kid. but god he's so obnoxious''#that's gold. fuck it it's happening #putting two blorbos from different fandoms into a blender and watching it spin #i thought abt it as a joke and then 2 minutes later it was no longer a joke #bald best friends ??????????????????????????????#i hate that tag i want to delete it GVEYIAGVA #im hoping y'all aren't waiting for a conclusion that ends with the actual plot of pla cuz .ihaven't thought abt the legendaries at all <3 #this is just me beating up the main cast. mostly mob. okay it's just mob but im beating the others up emotionally

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sulphuricgrin · 17 days ago

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17 and 4 for Cinnara and Lilliandra. B, K for Lilliandra/Miraak from the OC/ship ask game!! :^]

First off, THANK YOU and i'm sorry it took a day to answer. Busy and I had to think of the answers. Some of these are tough!

OC/Ship Ask Game: Firsts

Cinnara and Lilliandra Questions:

4. First time experiencing grief

Cinnara, having the large heart that she has, it would be early, over an animal. Not even a family pet, so much as the hunting dogs Lillil's family had, but Cinnara grew up seeing very regularly.

Lilliandra would be later, over her relationship with Cinnara - specifically when told it would have to end because her family found someone that fit her - arranged marriages in Altmer society all about needing to find the perfect match and all that. Both of them knew that could happen, but Lilli really wanted to refuse the reality of it. Cinnara is/was all she knew since they were kids. She wants to keep her toy.

17. First favorites - favorite color, animal, movie, etc.

Cinnara: color, gold; flower, poppies; food, lemon sweets

Lilliandra: color, red; drink, mint and lavender tea; animal, birds (her father had birds and she grew to love them and learned falconry)

Miraak/Lilliandra Ship Ask:

B. First impression of each other

Miraak thought of her as a stupid, pretty little socialite that wouldn't survive Apocrypha for long. Seriously questioned why Hermaeus Mora would pick her

Despite the hushed warnings from Ciphers, it only made Lilliandra curious. She just likes to unravel puzzles.

K. First fight

Physical or verbal? They're verbally sparring regularly. Despite eventually creating a tentative friendship/alliance at the beginning, they basically had no issues bullying each other.

Okay, I went through my notes - maybe the first time it was a big fight was:

Lilli gets to one of the Ciphers that Miraak has under his control/working for him. Offering more boons than Miraak has to offered, she gets them to agree to an experiment with thaumavocalism and use them as a subject (completely unethically, not telling them what the experiment will be); Miraak finds them and is infuriated by her taking the Cipher. M- You stole my cipher L- Did I? Well (pause, smacks lips) (cipher screams through hallucinations) you can have them back now!

#ask game #oc: cinnara #oc: lilliandra #miraak #lili and miraak #fate touched #child of padomay

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tarnishedinquirer · 8 months ago

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Misc: The Coast and Cave

((Sorry, no pictures, my recording messed up))

Boc said he was going to a cave on the coast to recover his sewing supplies, but that was a while ago. Granted, we didn't exactly agree on a meeting place, but I was starting to grow worried.

After my brief crisis of reality, I found a road down to the shore. A troll seemed to be patrolling, and he could keep doing that as far as I'm concerned. No business of mine.

On the shore proper, I saw a flash of light moving across the ground in a fixed pattern. I tried to swing my sword at it, but it took a little while to get the timing right. The light only showed me where it'd just been, not where it was now.

It was one of those scarabs I've seen around. I've gotten some flask refills and ashes of war off of them, but never really paid much attention. Can't think of a reason why a stamping sweep technique would cause the scarab to become invisible, so I'm not gonna worry too much about what this one means either.

Someone built a campfire on the northern end of the shore. One of those mounted mercenaries, just staring out to sea. When I got closer, I saw a dead long-neck. Scratch that, looks like the long-neck built the fire and the mercenary just stole his lunch. I returned the favor and moved on, with a bit more food in my pack.

Fought a giant land octopus, which is something that exists here. Met one of Kalé's kin, hiding out under a ruin arch. But then I reached the end of the shoreline, at a giant waterfall. More like a deadfall, given how many broken boats and barrels rested down here.

Then there were the skeletons.

My first fight with the undead since getting here. I quickly learned that they would get back up if I didn't make well and sure they were dead. Smacking them while they were on the ground seemed to work, but it's easy to get distracted and forget to finish the job. I wish I could have gotten a good look at them, as they seem to be wearing some unique armor, but as soon as they're truly killed, they crumble into dust.

That wasn't my only problem. There were Piles of rotten blood and bones that were nearly immune to my sword and my spells. Thinking quickly, I thrust my torch into them and that did the trick. Are these undead that didn't fully form? Maybe too rotten and jumbled up to make a real body.

Having reached the end of the road, I doubled back to find Boc's cave. Wasn't too hard to find because this time I was ambushed by a mob of his demi-human kin. I can see why he didn't fit in. Most of them aren't nearly as urbane as the elegant Boc. Savagery is no match for skill though, and I'm very skilled.

They sure did a number on Boc. Poor guy was barely clinging to life, and all over some needle and thread? He tried to warn me about going deeper, but I couldn't let this one slide.

After clearing the first room of the brutes, I felt a presence, like there was someone else standing here, but somewhere to the side, in a direction I couldn't point to. I called out, and he answered.

Didn't have much time to compare notes, since the boss room was right in front of us, but I got the feeling we were here for different reasons. He kept looking towards the end of the cave, like there was something there only he could see.

The Demi-human camp was ruled by two chieftains, so we each took one and my wolves dealt with the stragglers. At least, that was the plan. I take back what I said about savagery being no match for skill. These were tough customers who kept me on my toes. I barely had time for spells. (Note: Memorize the pebble spell) Istvan fought with one of those strange pole-swords I've seen the mercenaries use, but through it he channeled some strange purple magic that sucked enemies in. After nearly getting gutted by the chief, I let him handle both of them and instead just pelted them from a distance.

Once the chiefs were dead, he didn't stick around to chat either. I wonder what he was looking for? Regardless, I got what I needed. Once I showed Boc his sewing needle, he lit up and I could almost see the life returning to him. Just to be safe, I honed my sewing skills on some of his wounds. He took it like a champ and let me keep the kit. All he wanted was that needle.

Questions:

What was Istvan searching for?

Where did the skeletons at the bottom of the waterfall come from?

#elden ring lore #elden ring #in character #in character blog #in character post #elden ring rp #elden ring oc #elden ring tarnished #let's play

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pcril · 10 months ago

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* ◟ : 〔 MICHIEL HUISMAN , CIS MAN + HE /HIM 〕 COEN HUMMEL , some say you’re a FORTY-TWO YEAR OLD lost soul among the neon lights. known for being both ASTUTE and UNFORGIVING, one can’t help but think of PERFECT (EXCEEDER) by MASON VS PRINCESS SUPERSTAR when you walk by. are you still a DEFECTIVE ASSASSIN / PRIVATE DETECTIVE at RED EYE, even with your reputation as the THE SCORNED? i think we’ll be seeing more of you and NIGHT TERRORS BLEEDING INTO REALITY BLEEDING INTO DEVOTION, LOVE IS A FEAST BUT YOU'VE LEARNED TO ABSTAIN, THE SEATS ARE EMPTY AND THE THEATRE IS DARK - WHY DO YOU KEEP ACTING?, although we can’t help but think of CANE (JOHN WICK 4), LADYBUG (BULLET TRAIN), BENOIT BLANC (KNIVES OUT) whenever we see you down these rainy streets.

ENTER THE SCORNED .

You show face beneath the neon splatter with a wide grin and lazy posture. A black glove adorns each hand — a staple piece at any given time and day. An atmosphere of liveliness clings like a third skin. The second being who you present yourself as currently to the naked eye. And the first still shrouded in a fog of oil-slick mystery. But no matter, you're here! A little-lot worse for wear, but alive no less! Despite all the trails and tribulations you've slogged through, your heart still beats and your lungs still take in air. But whether that stays the case for long.. Well, we'll just have to see what the cards fate will deal.

PUBLICLY KNOWN FACTS:

Name: Coen Hummel

Appearance: Two sides of the same coin. From scraggly, roughed up investigator to a regular joe that's just trying to get around. Coen's capable of dressing to the nines if a situation calls for it. But if he's being honest, there's far more comfort in wearing in the basics. He can stand tall, but prefers to slouch. Will always be wearing black gloves. Has the full facial hair set that's usually taken care of quite meticulously.

Background: Single child raised in the Midwest. Run-of-the-mill childhood in a steady household. Fortunate enough to discover a deeply founded passion early on, though it's led him down a narrow path in life. Never got married, but certainly had a child. Was dealt the misfortune of never being able to watch his son grow as an adult. Both his then partner and child were tragically taken in a hit and run. Grief has walked with him ever since. Even as he sorts himself out. Quits relying on booze to numb everything, keeps an eye on what he eats. An ache stays as a callous in his soul despite his sunny ( if not a little crazy ) disposition.

Is anosmatic ( i.e. unable to smell / has impacted taste ), but never lets it stop him from being a foodie. Note — he is known to purposely partake in the weirdest combinations known to mankind.

Will always make up a different reason for why he wears gloves all the time. Yes, they're all very stupid.

Is completely blind in the left eye, but has several prosthetics. Refuses any help concerning advanced technology to restore sight.

Has a dog named Boatmeal. Endearingly nicknames him Bo. Certified emotional support dog & scent training.

WHAT'S BURIED UNDERNEATH .

Birth name: Boudewijin Bekker

Cause for gloves: ** tw: self-mutilation start** The back of his hands had been marked with something related to Stoneage Industries growing up. Once he defected, he couldn't stand the sight of them. He depersonalized extremely bad and severed the skin off the back of his hands, got some skin grafts smacked on, and now has some really gross scars. Hence, the gloves. **tw: self-mutilation end**

HISTORY HIS HEART KNOWS ( PRIVATE ) .

Growing up with a single father is hard; even harder, still, when said father was half drowned in debt. Boudewijin was forced to grow up faster than his peers. He had to be scrappy and figured out ways to help his father wherever he could. Admittedly, his father wasn’t a perfect person or parent; most of the time he numbed their shitty situation with the promise of liquor. And, yes, there were times where he was a little heavy handed with him if he did something foolish, but they both loved each other all the same.

Nothing could have prepared Boudewijin when his father fell ill. They couldn’t afford the treatment required, and he had to stand witness to the slow decline of his father’s health. The man went from being a sizable man to bone thin in the matter of months. And one day Boudewijin didn’t see him at all. At the time, he’d thought that his father was working overtime – that he’d be back home later or sometime during the night. Then one day became two, and then two became three… Worried, he called everyone that knew his father, but his answer wasn’t brought to light until the police arrived at his doorstep by the fourth night.

**tw: suicide start**

Suicide, they had said. The evidence was clear with the note left in the passenger seat, and the pistol gripped in his father’s hand. Boudewijin was barely at ten the time. And the only damning grace is the organization that plucked him from the system.

**tw: suicide end**

HISTORY AS HE KNOWS IT ( IN STONEAGE RECORDS ) .

It's believed that Boudewijin would succeed. No, he might not have been the strongest or most agile, but there was undeniable grit. The refusal to give up and stay down. Wherever he was sent to, whatever task he was given to complete. He always came shambling back in pieces, hardly breathing but still very much alive. It wasn't until his early thirties did things flip.

What should have been an unlikely but harmless friendship grew into something more. Something far more steadfast than allowed. He tried to keep it casual. Tried to make it clear that they'd never work under his then alias and fake background. But she was just as stubborn as him, and after some time they were gifted with the absolute apple of their eyes — their son, Morgan.

Life was bearable then — just for a short year, at least. Boudewijin thought he took all the right measures to keep them safe and out of Stoneage's view. But he should've known better. It was the exact same blind faith that brought him misfortune in the worst of ways. Someone caught wind and sparked a wildfire to regain control. Snip any thought of freedom in the bud before there's even a whisper of rebellion.

His partner and son disappeared into thin air. The only warning he got was that they knew. None of the details were spared. Didn't have to be when Boudewijin knew it was a test of fidelity, but that didn’t staunch the outrage. Naturally, he bent to their will — hoping, praying that they were safe and left alone. But no news ever came of their fate. No matter how long he waited.. and waited.. and waited.

They were never seen or heard from again.

Something snapped, then. Deep seated hatred accelerated its roots and consumed him, but again — he was no fool. A one man riot would’ve been a suicide mission. So he waited once more. This time with his ears strained to catch wind of the perfect time and escape.

Boudewijin put forth his all when the plan went into effect. If the unkindly grace of fate wanted to have him drop dead then so be it. There was hardly any worth to his life. Yet he somehow survived those sent after him; not without significant bodily damage but still very much alive and kicking.

HISTORY BEING WRITTEN ( THE BEGINNING OF 'DEAR DIARIES' ).

Normalcy never fully settles back his life, as his days will forever be plagued with unrest. The pristine visage he once carried so proudly diminished into a mere husk of vanity. Somehow, by some miracle, he retained enough of a drive to change things up. Leave behind who he once was — who he'd become — and start anew as Coen Hummel, a man that's barely skirting by life. Although he might be with a new identity, he knows better this time. Keeps a close eye on those around him. Pays extra attention to what might lurk around every corner and shadow. Waits patiently but prepared for those still looking for him.

#lawlessintro #coen hummel — dialogue .#coen hummel — inspo .#// does this make sense??????? who kows #tw suicide #tw death #tw self mutilation

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thats-biter · 1 year ago

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GOLD

Oct. 29, 2023

That's what the Detroit Pistons want, and now. They have officially arrived, and are announcing it loudly for all to hear: this ain't a game, this is a coup.

Their version of an NBA takeover started last year, but no one except them saw this coming. Just how they contend now is a little beside the point, and they know it. On some nights, it might be the MotorCade, others, it might be hungry-hippo-smash-button Jam King Jalen Duren's ignition properties. Most nights it will be a mix of both and more. A lot more. Winning basketball starts and ends with many things, because that's how winning programs work. Success by onslaught. These Pistons won't stop, because to them, they're already better than you, and they have every intention of acquainting you with their rapidly realizing fever reality.

They're done waiting for the right time to strike. They're in the trenches now. What is happening could have something to do with the full Monty effect, which no one could have predicted. The gob smacked onlookers have yet been able to pin it down with them, just ask around. But the naked truth is this: Detroit Basketball is suddenly good again. Scary good.

They've already proven there's no risk in overstating their future. Any two eyes can see their infectious cohesiveness and shockingly mature crop of otherworldly talent on display. They are poised to make a legitimate winning run this year and are primed for a fury of attack against any opponent, simply as they currently stand. If you sleep on them, you've already lost. Take it from their opponents in the last calendar year. The Pistons will win this season, and they already know who's up next once it ends; it's them.

Cade Cunningham is a superstar incarnate at 22, and he is back in the pulpit to preach. Through the bumps and bruises dished by the best efforts NBA defenses have been able to offer him thus far, he's looking healthier and beefier than his million dollar plant-based diet, and is seeking to lead this subset of grateful peers to their first victorious NBA season ever as players. He's a current top 10 player in the league today, although still too unproven to wear the title, and is a generational talent in the making right before us. There is but one thing on his mind.

In his first effort for us, head coach Monty Williams has them drinking something, and it's working. Still among the youngest players in the NBA, Jalen Duren is a, or is soon to be, the premier center in the entire league for his absurd out-of-the-gym athletics and stat stuffing two-way contributions. OG Stew, the emotional Captain of the ship in Isaiah Stewart, is the team's life-blood and enforcer; their low-key, cold-blooded, secret-weapon stud. The NBA wouldn't dare question him on that. Should he stay within the role and not exceed it, Jaden Ivey is exactly the banshee 6th man we haven't seen here since the days of Lindsey Hunter, Mike James, and Vinny Johnson before them.

Rookie starter Ausar Thompson was another huge jackpot for GM Troy Weaver, a job securing draft selection for him, and likely the piece that puts them full over. From the moment of first tip in 2023, Thompson has quickly revealed himself to be a defensive mastermind and a star. He does everything a winning team needs, and nothing it doesn't. Not caring to score but when the opportunity presents, he has a total double-blind commitment to the cause. For him, it's not just about winning, it's about taking pleasure in the dirty work. He is a Piston, after all. He exudes unselfish discipline that even veteran Champion rafter dwellers won't help but admire. Rip, Isiah and the gang must be losing it. He appears before us now as the second coming of Dennis Rodman and Ben Wallace rolled into one, but with an offensive upside that evokes a young Scottie Pippin's finesse, toughness, and brilliance. He is our missing link, our difference maker, and he's ours.

Monty Williams might not have even had to glue this bunch together himself, as they apparently know their roles, and quite literally fight for each other, behind closed doors and against any opposition under the bright lights. They will not be taking no for an answer. Not these Pistons.

Did I mention the Pistons still don't have their leading scorer back, in Bojan Bogdanović? Time will tell the impact he is able to have with this new establishment pecking order. Bojan will have to answer to Coach and Cade upon his return; something he didn't have to contend with last year. His courtmates may have just exercised their natural right to make a talented but senior player like him completely expendable. The message for him is right now this: get in line, or just get out of the way.

Coach Williams comes to us loaded; with a scorching hot system, a self-assured voice, and most importantly, the bitterness of a too-soon playoff exit and abrupt firing after a Western Conference championship berth with his similarly stacked Phoenix Suns last summer. He's looking to rub some W's on the wound just to make a point. The betrayal trauma of the Ax from a club on the near cusp of championship level basketball seems to have ignited his current focus and vision, regardless of his new historic contractual arrangements with the organization.

They saw the glint in each other's eyes first, but now it's all in plain sight for us to see too.

Pick your angle with this group. They've been trying to tell us for a while. They also have a dynamic 3-point core that would make any GM cower to their knees. Detroit Pistons fans are currently witnessing a hostile shake down of the NBA. It's their world, we're all just living in it. They view themselves as a formidable threat to upset the entire balance of the NBA this season, and why not? On one hand, it's because they want it, but more importantly, it's because they can. We won't have to tell them otherwise, and we shouldn't. Whether they succeed this year is up to them and fate, not us, or the rest of the league. They're too good, and too young. They will run good teams ragged this year, if they can withstand the typical hyper-imposed fan expectations and seasonal adversaries that face any next big thing. The Pistons will be great sooner rather than later. The faces are new, but it's the same old Detroit Basketball we've always known and loved. IYKYK.

There's no reason to question the authenticity of their admission that they are singularly laser-focused on playing basketball the right way right now, and are going to do whatever it takes to take home the victory. They will fight, and they will rise and fall together. Again and again they've bucked the selfish play that sometimes clouds even excellent teams. They did that when they were losing too, remember. Success cannot change that ego is simply not a part of this group's DNA, but god given talent and a winning identity seems to be.

They are obviously here to make the mark of their bright, young lives, we just don't know how big the mark they'll leave is. However, we should consider that they might already know themselves how this should go. For now, they're content to plant their flag, and ready to lay waste on the battlefield with one of the most potent combinations of artillery in the NBA to back it all up. They're too dumb to be jaded, and likewise too inexperienced to slow down and consider the reasons not to be completely and utterly confident with every errant swing of the ball. Just wait until the Lakers and Bucks get a load of this high-efficiency bomb squad.

After nearly embarrassing Eastern Conference champion Miami Heat in their own home opener, everything they've displayed after that night has been a master course in perfect basketball, aside from the high turnover margin. That's to be expected though from teams doing whatever the hell they want out there. They're big, they're fast, they're relentless, and they play defense oriented team basketball with that same Detroit bred, blue collar "D" we know and love in this town. But above all else, they are gifted; and now they are sharing that gift with us.

Skeptics will spout, but the ring of truth is real. What fans at LCA are bearing witness to is quite possibly greatness out of thin air. This is the motherload we've heard about. The world will know it too, if they maintain their onslaught through the next week and the following. Troy Weaver and Tom Gores have made a perfect hire, and drafted a perfect group of kids. This is the vision, and the culture of the franchise is now immutably that of a winning one.

But will that change in the foreseeable future? It's hard to conceive of all this just vanishing, except by freak, career altering injury to one of the main cogs. But we don't need to think like that. Even the notion of something like that isn't deterrent enough to shake this eerie feeling, and it shouldn't. Cade is ready. Take his lead, just like Monty Williams and Jalen Duren have. The rest will follow suit. It's time to buy into his Pistons.

We've tried the free agent game here, and let's finally admit it; that has not and will never work in Detroit. But what has? Drafting smartly, making brilliant trades, and a little bit of luck and grit. On paper, this comeuppance both does and doesn't make sense. But that doesn't matter, because on the court, it does in spectacular fashion.

That's why they're different now. Everything has changed overnight in Detroit again. This happens in the NBA. It has to be the right cocktail for sure, but why not? The 2004, I mean the 2024 Pistons will have some playoff experience to garner before they can think past the Eastern Conference. We're clearly lucky, but come this and next April in the D, we'll know exactly how lucky we just got.

So it's true, they've done the unthinkable. They've actually captured lightning in a bottle, again. The Larry O'Brien Trophy is now locked in their foresight, and ready to be snatched by this rag tag squad of all-kill warrior bandits. They bear an uncanny resemblance to the likes of those Warrior bandits when they were at a similar point in their trajectory to greatness. The main difference though is merely fit, and not fury. It's a different puzzle with these Pistons, but it's the same kind of puzzle. Read it and weep.

There will always be supportive voices within the fan base and organization of any professional basketball team, but this core of assassins is already unequivocally better than anything we've had here in Detroit in over a decade. Better than Blake's, far superior to Reggie's and Andre's without him, these Pistons do what those groups never dreamed to flirt with; they just issued "hits" on every opposing team that dares to cross them, and they want your jewelry too. They don't negotiate, and there will be no survivors. Apocalypse be damned, the Detroit Pistons are now!

2:56 pm

Op-ed by Cameron Navetta

#detroit pistons #detroit basketball #nba #nba op ed #cade cunningham #jalen duren #troy weaver #tom gores #ausaur thompson

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altarrot · 2 years ago

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HUNGER HURTS TO KILL. / VOL 5

[ ♡ ] pairing: simon "ghost" riley + fem!reader

[ ♡ ] warnings: references to past drug use, sexual content, bathroom sex, oral sex (male receiving), references to blasphemy, religious guilt.

[ ♡ ] series masterlist.

ACT 5 - SIN | PART 5/7

Over the course of events; a cramped pick-up truck, a stay in a motel with a near-death-bleeding-out experience, back in the truck, and now on the road hundreds of miles away from hometown — you feel like you're losing it. Hysteric. Your sense of reality is starting to blur, unlaced from your previous condition of living. You find purgatory in his presence, in his truck, but he reassures you're just homesick.

At the end of the day, he wasn't a good man. He was a criminal of war, a reason of infidelity, and near-murderer. But for the first time, ever since you were a young girl, you had seen him differently — you were seeing a man differently more than normal. They're usually pressuring, stern, archetypes of monsters in the real world; Ghost serves more as a symbol of an ideal man, dull yet affectionate at command.

Naive and incapable to survive out in the real natures of the world, you give yourself to him ungrudgingly, discovering a shelter of safety and rapture when with him. He's one of the first to not only be in love with your body, but loves you for your actual identity and kind nature, presumingly. Uncertainty had always clung to you, even when it came to him, an unsure man of many secrets. All you knew is that he was violent, tender, and private.

That's why one of the stops for the day was a pub; off the highway, nearing the late-afternoon, way too mature for your liking. It was his own way of cooling off, de-stressing off the responsibility of carrying both of you on. You sat on a barstool of chipped wood, a shot glass at your elbow, and Ghost under the bleeding lights of flashing signs at the walls. Shallow conversations are carried between him and another man — they seem close, old chaps, high-school friends perhaps, and he has a girl at his hip.

Your hunched figure straightens and you prod at the shot glass. Ghost chuckles, a deep raspy one at the man with the girl at hip, then he takes notice to you.

"You haven't met her, haven't you?" Ghost refers to you.

"No, I thought you were married." the man said. "Who's the younger lass?"

"Left the wife, too much of a bother," he said, "She's my new girl."

The man's eyes widened but decrease in size when he stretches a hand to you; a tattoo near his wrist, fewer than the ones Ghost adorned on his left skin.

"Nice to meet you, lassie," he said, taking your hand in his, "Soap—or Johnny, Ghost's friend."

You shake his hand. "Nice to meet you, how'd you find him?"

"Coincidence."

"Ah."

"Why are you two so far down the state?" Soap asks, "Last time I've heard, he was settled in some small town upstate."

Ghost clears his throat. "We're on a runaway, needed a fresh start."

"And the missus doesn't care?" He interrogates Ghost.

"She doesn't want anything to do with me," he shakes his head, taking a pour of his drink, "Neither the kid."

"You're making yourself sound like a scumbag." Soap said. "How'd you find her?"

"Town preacher. She was the preacher's daughter."

"Didn't take you as one to be interested in religious gals," he smacks Ghost on the back with a free hand, "Good for you."

He's more energetic than Ghost was, naturally friendly and welcome. Who knew that two complete polar opposites could be friends, some sort of best friends, even in the military; that's what you picked up from their back-and-forth rambles. He's a majority of smiles and one to lead on conversations easily. Easing off the conversation and slipping back into your area of thoughts, hysteria, you allow your perspective to wander the pub.

In the corner, in a crowded booth of solitude and abandonment, there's four people — divided equally, two men and two women. They're younger than you were, not young adults like you, but rather teenagers; senior year, junior year even. One of the girls has a packet in a hand and holds it out in front of the rest of the people at the table. The plastic pouch's remains are poured out onto the wood of the booth's table, white and shining under the feeble bulb, a solid card is pulled from one of the boys.

It was stupid to do that sort of thing here. Especially with people beginning to crowd in at the strike of rush hour, but they're fearless, taking turns at the smothered powder; index fingers pressed to one of their nostrils while the other swallows up a bit of the white, leaving a portion for the others. Memorials of behind the church, trying that similar category of substance but at a needle to the arm at the same age, reappear at the sight. Memorials that you begged to forget, to forgive to God.

You could barely contain yourself behind the church, so what made you think you could contain yourself now? Without help, without constraint, you were arranging in your mind. Arrangements of reliving that memorial.

"Honey?"

His voice is soft, smooth like a polished plane top. Ghost.

You whip your head back around. "Huh, yeah?"

"Did you hear me, love?"

"What'd you say? Sorry."

"I said meet me in the bathroom in a bit." he whispers out the side of his mouth, "After I deal with him."

These situations seem to unravel in nostalgic reels. Scene after scene, they repeat; same situations, different settings. (That were abnormally almost alike.)

You're forced on your knees under some green light of the pub, in the bathroom, it glows on your face like a nuclear radiance. The green light is accompanied with a shadow as well, Ghost's looming shadow of a drunken figure. Nearby is a rectangular window that's right at the left side of the wall, unable to reach and too small to fit anything through it except the night's air. He compelled you to the last stall, hand at your scalp and pushing you to the midpoint of his jeans.

His breaths are dense like a weight from his few sips of alcohol and a cigarette slipped to his lips. You sit shameful and in a pleasuring position; hands on your thighs and head sloped upwards. Your identity itself is unknown, not yet permitted to itself, but an amalgam of many girls that could've been in the same posture you're in. Bodies of beauty and loss painted in a sexual light.

Guilty, pent-up, you claw and slide your fingers to the zipper of his jeans — the metal rod coming down while you work at his belt, throwing it to the side of the toilet while you shove the garments of his lower half down. More sin runs in your veins than blood, chastening yourself for bringing yourself to stare at that powder; to bring up the delight of the memory of a needle stabbed to your skin. Desperate, your lips hunger at his blunt head, no longer struggling to take his full length; only a few bobs and it's prodding at the back of your throat.

He breathes, throwing his head back with a palm splayed at your head. "Fuck, sweetheart, where'd this come from?"

A gag sputters at your widened mouth, your fingers raking at his thighs in response. Tears split down your caved-in cheeks as he permanents a firm clutch at your hair. He's grunting and has one arm finding purchase at the sprayed tiles of the walls, blinded by the greens of the lamplight when his head is met at a position that appears to look snapped. You find yourself acting as scandalous as ever, the most scandalous you've ever been.

Picturing it, it's almost a reality, realistic; the dead preacher's daughter caught sucking the married lieutenant's cock. It would cause a stir in the town, like flies to a rotting animal's carcass, your bloodline in decrepit and decaying — and just because you wanted to act like a little whore, going around and resisting her religion with some man that had her easily persuaded and on a hook.

Heat upsurges to your face and mobs your ears, a familiar suffocation birthing to life. His head rubs up at the tissue that's at the back of your throat, vowing that it was bulging out the outer layer of skin. Your hand under the aging gauze flexes and twitches, struggling to continue nailing at his thighs. There's a gnawing at both of your naked knees at the dirtied tile of the bathroom, denting the skin and impairing it.

The more you jolt your head and attach your lips around each prominent vein, tongue running up the slit of his blunt head, his impulsive act is to improve in volume and spasm at the barriers of your mouth. His hand at the wall slaps and fingers crook into the cracks, torturing himself with the mask at his head and emerging heat; the mask acts as a hazard, nearly at a loss to breathe normally.

With one, final thrust around his girth — his hand pushes your head away, heavier gags grappling at your throat while his cum is shot and splattered across your face; you take it like a sacrament, open and willing. He lets you off, leaving you to lean on the locked door of the stall, your fingers shakily stealing at the liquid at your face and staining it on your fingers, tongue lapping at it. His knees are bent, his arms lengthened out and at the walls, head hung low between them.

You've never seen him more vulnerable, less dull. Drops of tears still spill at your cheeks despite not choking on him anymore, your face contorted and coming to be buried in your knees that pressed at your chest. Quiet wails stifle into your legs — heart weakened and preyed to a pulsating ache. You feel miserable, humiliated. You didn't know why you kept crying, but at the same time you did; it was variability, something between your failing image of a human being and being weighted down by the memory of powder at your nose.

You were clearly failing, though. Zero fabrications. It was too far along to turn back now; go back and visit your mother, your hometown, revert back to a preacher status while you never see Ghost again after he ultimately leaves town and divorces his wife. The problem was that you didn't want to just leave him, not this soon, not when you had these visions of being his replacement of a wife, with him forever.

"Shit, are you crying?" he asked, collecting breaths.

"You have eyes."

“Too rough?”

”No, no—it’s not that.” you mumble, "Do you still like me? Like, really like me?"

"That shouldn’t even be a question."

You shake your head. "Nothing. I've just been doing some thinking."

Lie by lie, they're imperfect, worse to cover-up — but as of this time, your words weren't really a lie. It was more of a severance allied with a lie and a truth; that you've been doing some contemplating but the only lie was his retort.

Ghost reaches out his ragged hand of rooted veins and drawn discolorations of scars, his entire hand fits at your face and pushes your head back up to him, thumb at your cheek while the others dance at your jaw. His single thumb feels of your tears and swabs them of their salted liquid. You heed to his touch of manipulation and descend into lands of scarred skin, a fleeing and sputtering breath whining from you.

Finishing with the finale of tears that rest of your face, he keeps his hand there — at your face, but your eyes fall out of uneasiness. "No, honey, back up here." he said, his words shrewd and easy to your naivety. "Look at me."

Orbs of uneasiness focus like lens on him again; a domineering entity at your front.

"You know that I love you, right?"

You shyly sniffle.

"Yes."

He pets at your face again. "So don't give me any of that questioning shit—I know, you know, that I'd love you forever. That's why you're here with me, that's why you sacrificed everything to be here with me." he said, "And I swear on my life on that, understand?"

Your head nods.

"Good," he extracts his arm back, using it to pull his jeans and rest of cloth back up, finishing with the sound of a zipper, "Get yourself cleaned up and meet me outsides, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Late hours of the night is when the world seems to pitch and mangle into the worst of your fears; The existent reality, one that you were warned where men acted as wolves while women as lambs. Endangerment. For once in your life though, you feel some rebellion, some glory that you could convince yourself to enjoy in like how you've seen. In the gaze of the off-the-road abandonment, you're at a sick freedom.

It's a cloud of your nightmares, of your sins, where things went to die. You bit the skin around your nail when looking around the pub now shrouded of night-activity, of more people. More teenagers were hauled in by secret, some adults as well. Some wrecked at each other's faces in the phone booth with pinning and lips-on-lips, like they were in desire to swallow each other, eat each other.

More powder summons at more booths, in your sight while nobody really cared for it anymore. Blown off their minds and dozing into the condition of a drug-lost station, it pings at your head while the remembrances are brought back to you once again, forced down your throat. Ghost is nowhere to be seen; perhaps somewhere off with Soap and his wife in a corner, acting adult-like, mature without your unfitting, solid spirit there.

The drink at the shot glass, which you swore not to take, was burning down your throat, strangling your throat in an irresponsible manner. Multiple burns of shots. Your mind spins on a carousel, head in your rubbing hands while a sigh—a groan is fit through the strangulations.

"Are you alright there, miss?"

A hand at your shoulder, an unfamiliar voice of masculinity, a stranger.

You swing your head back, slowly blinking, the stranger in lines. "What?"

"I said, are you alright?" the lines repeat, "You seem too, uhm, tipsy."

"Yeah—yeah, I'm fine."

"You here alone?"

You dumbly respond, swept over of dizziness, amnesia — possibly.

"Yeah, just me, always me."

"Oh, well, okay," it said, "You mind if I sit here with you?"

"Don't care, go." you mutter.

Flesh rubs at your eyes at an effort to form a person out of those lines. More slow blinks occur but your vision restores to an original state, your hands drag to at the lap of skirted lace, brows furrowed at the now made-out man that sat in front of you; where Ghost was supposed to be. (But to your forged amnesia, you were just too stupid to say take notice to it.)

He was a brunette set of hairs, most of it greying, and older than Ghost. He kept a decent build but in total — was just an average kind of guy, a bit of creep that tingled at your spine once you got a greater glimpse of him, regretting your drunken agreement to his request. A smile of dimples is at his face while you only frowned, annoyed, you kind of wanted to leave and tell him to piss off.

His eyes shine under the light, smile on his lips. "You from around these parts?"

"No, I'm not... upstate."

"Traveling?"

"You could say that." you sink into a fist, sighing.

"Upstate, uhm, I've been up there," he expresses with a stutter, "Been around a couple times, seen pretty girls like you."

His attempts at flirtation were admirable but weak, nothing charming, it just came off in a creep-like-sense.

"Not much up there." you said

"You a Christian girl too?"

You tense at his words, eyeing him in suspicion.

"What? How'd... you know?"

His eyes no longer shine, his drink is at the table, his expression plain and difficult to perceive.

"Because I've attended your masses, listened to your sermons," he said, "You're that preacher's daughter, aren't you? You're the one that your mother has been holding up missing posters to store-fronts, seen with that man in a mask."

You collect yourself off your stool, stumbling back a little with a breath. "Mister, I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Don't try lying to me," he breathes, heavy and daunting of whiskey with his palms slammed at the table, "I've seen you all now—I can go tell everyone back there that you're on the run, sleeping around with a married man."

His words shrink you down, causing you to fluctuate in fear, body trembling and begging for a savior in the moment. You needed protection, a physical protection — his sworn protection. Where even was he? Where was Ghost? And why did he fabricate that protection, right when you needed him most? (God, you sounded pathetic.)

"That's what you are," he spits, "A lowlife, sinning, blasphemous whore. What would your father think?" What would he think of his precious, innocent girl acting in such a way like this?"

"Shut up!"

Their eyes are everywhere— his, your mother, your father— you're left unable to run, to hide away from their judgements. You were descending down spirals of hallucinogenic terrors knowing that it was aware, they were aware, aware of your sinning accomplishments and hidden tracks. Those accomplishments and your faulted feelings were sure to be the traitorous consequences of your faith, forever stuck in a purgatory wasteland of these blasphemous deeds.

You've went against everyone, especially the preacher. Your father. No matter how hard you scrub of the memory, no matter how deep you bury the ditch, you cannot escape the creeds of your father; the sins he was originally bound suffering to, passed down a generation to you. Your body rots, collapses inside and out, the weight of awaiting penalty heavy to bare. You're tormented, losing it, distant—

"Whose this?"

The voice is no longer a stranger. It's full of warmth, of that rasp, and like a home. You look into the voice, finding a face of familiarity.

"The fuck are you doing with him?" Ghost rasps to you, a finger to the man, "And she's with me, what are you doing with her?"

"She said she was alone." the man replies.

"Clearly not."

The man cuts his concerns off the rope. "Do you know you're running around with a wanted woman? Someone who went against her faith and turned to whorish deeds?"

Ghost pulls you to his side with a strength, your arm coming to wrap around his left bicep, face smashed right into it and clinging like a child.

"You know her personally?" he asks.

"Yes, I actually do." the opposing one out of the two men said, "I've attended the masses she's lead—disappointing to see what she's turned into."

"That's not personal, mate, really just the opposite of it."

"Still," he shrugs, "She's a missing girl, anyways, and her community is waiting for her, her mother." his adjustment on the stool is driven to two limbs and stood on the ground, "Let me have her, will you? You can come along too if you like, it's just one other part of your big journey."

"She doesn't know you, I don't know you, so I'm not giving her up to some lunatic."

"I'm just returning her to original state."

Ghost presses his head to yours. "Let's go, love, eyes on me—and keep up."

He has a distaste of wasting his time; so that was his reason for no longer keeping conversation with the insanity of a man, his arm to your shoulder, a majority of him in control of navigating away from the man and through the crowds of people, pushing past in a silent hurry. You rest your face into his jacketed arm, the scent of cigarettes on it, comforting down from the matter of unlucky circumstances.

To your luck, the man does not keep up, and is lost in the bunches of teenagers and crowds. His recorded verses of vulgar nicknames for you and berating insults resonated through the structure of the pub. Labels of Innocent between Whorish and Blasphemous. It's a flux of bemusement, what really were you? — innocent? or a whore to the Devil?

#fic collection: hunger hurts to kill #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x female reader #simon riley x female reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #religion & military au #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #female reader

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batsarebetterthanpeople · 2 years ago

Note

BTS!! Don't Hurt Yourself

BTS: Write a dvd commentary about a passage from the fic (I cannot pic a fav so I'm just gonna give any old passage, I chose this one because I have a fun backstory about when I wrote it)(Full disclosure I own dvds but its been so long since I watched dvd commentary that I don't really remember what it's like so I'll just talk about the passage and how I made the decisions I did and how it came about, you know, the making of the passage.)

Spicy. alright I can do spicy.

Stede had always thought that a desire to hurt another individual out of malice or hatred was something that was intended to be done without their consent, that it would be dampened by the thought that the other person was into it. He was somewhat surprised to find that Izzy’s openly asking for it did not cheapen his own sadistic pleasure in giving the bastard what he deserved.

And he did deserve it, Stede decided as he pressed the head of his cock into Izzy’s tight, wet cunt. Izzy deserved to get smacked around and spat upon. Not just for the stunt with the blow job and the secret phone call, but also for calling Edward a whore, and a twat, and every other unkind derogatory thing he’d said in that courtroom and out, and for being generally an unpleasant, nasty little man that no one wanted to be around, and for causing Ed so much grief.

First of all, Bonnet, you are also causing Ed grief by fucking his husband but I digress

anyway. Backstory: This is from Chapter 7 of Don't Hurt Yourself. A chapter which I slaved away on for I think about two months, because I had written up to the point where Stede and Izzy Yaoi prat fall onto each other and Stede ends up with Izzy's tit in his hand or whatever, and I had no idea where to go from there ie how to get Stede's cock in Izzy's cunt in a way that was at least realistic enough for me to be satisfied with it.(emotional realities not physical realities, as is my right as an ofmd fic author, David Jenkins school of writing ect.) It's a problem I have with writing both Jack/Stede and Izzy/Stede, I have to seamlessly bring them from bitching at each other like they do in the show to fucking each other. Its not as easy as it sounds.

The breakthrough of the writers block came for me the same night I did magic mushrooms for the first time. My dealer told me that they would take about 3 hours to kick in (they took half that amount of time) and I was like, well I have three hours to spare so I might as well try to bang out a couple paragraphs. (it was the day I posted "why is it so much easier to write when the edible is about to kick in" It was not an edible I was waiting on. Idk why I said edible I regularly admit to drugs on here lmao.) So I managed to write a lot of the dialogue and then these two paragraphs. But the shrooms kicked in as I was finishing up the last paragraph, which meant that I ended it with some absolutely inebriated drivel about the word fuck and how it's used to convey both hate (e,g. shut the fuck up, fuck you) and sex that I had to delete when I was sober and I very rapidly lost the ability to write after that.

Anyway now that the fun back story is out of the way let's actually talk about what's happening in these two paragraphs. Stizzy hate sex! Stede and Izzy are sometimes hard to make fuck because Stede simply does not think about him, but they're also incredibly fun to make fuck. Muppet vibes off the charts especially when they're doing bdsm (which is the only kind of sex Izzy knows how to have). Miss Piggy slapping Kermit energy but they're not married.

I also tend to think Stede has a dark side. He's as mean as he is nice and he's real fucking nice. I love it when he's evil, because I'm horny about evil men. I think if Stede would think about Izzy long enough he could get dark with it (a vibe which is not incompatible with muppetry broaden your horizons for the possible.) and I think the only way to make him think about Izzy long enough is to have Izzy wrong Ed and make it clear to Stede that Ed was wronged and put Izzy in Stede's direct line of sight.

Basically, I want Stede to have hate sex and I want him to realize he's a sadist. I tried to convey that here. I think that Stede as a character has the capacity for so much love and so much hate. It's an important balance to strike when writing him, if you go too far in one direction you turn him into an unrecognizable monster (which I've seen certain people do) but if you go too far in the other he becomes an unrecognizable woobie baby which is so fucking boring dude. I hope I got across his sadist awakening well. he still needs a second one where you learn you can do it to people you like tho...

The ask meme

#divorce court au #stizzy #drug posting

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poisonouswritings · 2 years ago

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I posted 10,152 times in 2022

That's 10,152 more posts than 2021!

709 posts created (7%)

9,443 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sweet-milky-tea705

@crabbarts

@amiibo-queen

@8-bit-space

@elytrians

I tagged 5,554 of my posts in 2022

Only 45% of my posts had no tags

#get in queue - 2,139 posts

#last legacy - 558 posts

#ozzy answers - 408 posts

#fictif last legacy - 400 posts

#sage lesath - 367 posts

#ozzy speaks - 234 posts

#ozzy daydreams - 222 posts

#anon asks - 216 posts

#fictif sage - 178 posts

#anisa anka - 160 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#but anyways im *still* getting whump posts under 'posts you may like' and i do not like it!! and i keep saying this post isnt for me and it

My Top Posts in 2022:

Dialga v. Palkia Does Not Go As Expected

PLA, GN!Reader

Adaman and Irida want to have a fight, you just want to eat some potato mochi

Since the two clans have reached a peaceful treaty, it seemed only proper there be some sort of festival to celebrate. And since Jubilife Village has always been a sort of middle ground, it only makes sense to hold the party here. Plus, well, this is where the gods live.

Speaking of, you've become something of an,, ambassador between humans and the Almighty, as well as the de facto moderator for arguments between the clans. That's another reason everyone is gathering in the village.

Commander Komodo says that you have to look the part. You try to argue but then Cyllene pulls a sword out of nowhere - apparently she was the best swordsman in Hoenn? You make a note to ask about it later - and reminds you about following orders. So you relent and spend the day getting ready.

The tailor - Anthe - borrows some of your Pokémon for inspiration. It's a little silly to say but it gives you just a tiny bit of anxiety. How would you feel, having four friends who are always by your side suddenly whisked away? You feel just a tiny bit naked. But you stick through it, helping Rei and Akari hang up streamers and trying not to jump when Ingo randomly yells from a few feet away.

Seriously what did he do in his past life where he was always yelling?

Anthe's custom outfit is gorgeous, as you expected. There's a bit of a mish-mosh of colors to represent the Almighties; blue for Dialga, pink for Palkia, white for Arceus, you even talked her into adding some black and gold for Giratina.

Then it's heading over to Arezu so she can fuss over your hair.

You're finally rescued when Adaman and Irida show up about an hour before the festival is set to start. Arezu immediately pulls Adaman into a conversation, while Irida helps you to your feet. Arezu finally releases both you and Adaman, so together with Irida you three scamper back outside.

Like I said, they're here an hour early. You link your arm with Adaman's and nudge his side, teasing him a bit. You grab Irida's hand to tease her too.

'Oh you're here early? Did you forget the time? Did Irida have to come get you so you didn't be late? Irida I didn't know you were so prompt and timely. That's not a very Pearl Clan thing to do. Not very traditional.'

They're both a bit red-faced. Irida is scowling at you while Adaman is sticking his tongue out. You copy his childish display, and within moments you're locked in a fierce tongue battle

No not like that. Sorry to disappoint.

Irida (lightly) smacks Adaman on the back of the head. He yells but she ignores him, facing you with a gleam in her eyes. She explains that they actually have a request. That definitely sobers Adaman up a bit.

They want to battle each other with Dialga and Palkia to settle, Once And For All, which Clan is better.

You,,, are immediately hesitant. Not because you're concerned about the Pokémon ripping open the fabric of reality again - okay that's a lie you kinda are a bit worried about that - but because,, look it's already a little difficult for the clans to wrap their heads around you casually keeping their respective Almighties in a Pokéball and you really don't want to make that worse.

But Adaman and Irida seem genuine. So you relent, bringing them over to the training grounds. You have over your Pokéballs and go to stand with Ingo. One of the balls in your belt rattles. With a glow, Giratina emerges, settling beside you to watch the fight. You give it a few Oran berries as a treat.

Once the clan leaders get over their initial awe - and you remind Dialga and Palkia that, hey, humans kinda need the fabric of space-time to stay together to survive so don't go too hard - they're ready to brawl!

You end up crawling onto Giratina's head to get an aerial view. You reach back into your satchel and pull out a container of potato mochi for a snack. You're about to pop one in your mouth when four of them start to glow - two blue, two pink. Leaving you with just three left.

You roll your eyes and remind them to share.

Much to the clan leaders' shock, the gods have just,,, stopped fighting. You could have told them to expect this but the look of confusion slowly morphing to a surprised understanding on both their faces is much funnier. Surprised understanding turns again into confusion when they each receive a mochi.

A blessing from the lord

You slide off Giratina's back to the floor and pass one mochi over to Ingo and another to the Void Pokemon itself. Then you finally snack on yours.

Last week, Palkia opened a mini-wormhole just to steal Professor Laventon's toque. And Dialga laid down in front of the Galaxy Hall and refused to move until Rei and Akari promised to take it on their next survey. And Giratina sat in front of your house and refused to let you leave until you gave it a kiss on the head and reaffirmed that, yes, Giratina is a very good Void Snake.

They're powerful, borderline Eldritch creatures, sure. But like most creatures - most humans included - sometimes they wanna be showered in affection. And sometimes they wanna eat good food with good friends.

And isn't that what this festival is all about?

Right as you finishing explaining that, Giratina lobs a Shadow Ball right in Palkia's face and escapes through a wormhole. Palkia gives an indignant roar and follows. Dialga makes a purring sound that might be a laugh. Then Giratina pops up behind Dialga and lobs another Shadow Ball, which makes Dialga snarl and give chase.

The four of you - Adaman, Palina, Ingo, and yourself - all stand in the middle of the court, watching the legendary Pokémon chase each other around. Ingo chuckles and says siblings are like that. Irida asks if he has any siblings. He frowns and shrugs, saying he doesn't remember.

See the full post

275 notes - Posted March 19, 2022

Consider:

We seem to have god-like healing powers, since we can like, leap off cliffs and whatever and just stumble for a sec before being good (I always imagined Arceus basically gave us a super good healing factor)

Imagine the chaos when everyone finds this out

Adaman

You invite Adaman to go on a survey with you in the Mirelands. As the Clan leader, he's pretty familiar with the surroundings so he's happy to show you around and help out in whatever way he can

He can make sure you don't waste time getting lost

You guys go out. It's been a nice day. You're chatting about nothing too particular, just some gossip on the wardens and making jokes about Kamodo and whatever.

You're expertly throwing Pokeballs and crushing everything in your path

When suddenly

There's an alpha

Not just any alpha, but a Carnivine. And it's spotted you.

You react on impulse. You send out your biggest Pokemon and tell it to get Adaman out of here and dart to the side to draw Carnivine's attention

Adaman is freaking out because Carnivine are Big and Scary™ but he also doesn't wanna leave you behind

Your Pokemon keeps headbutting him, trying to push him away from the battle

You're darting and dodging and hiding behind rocks and whatever, keeping Carnivine's attention solely on you

Adaman yells at you to stop fucking around and run for cover

Sweetie why would you do this

You're taken by surprise. You hear him yell and your first impulse is to look over, and Carnivine takes the chance to rush you and Cut You Bad™

Definitely poisons you a bit

Your Pokemon finally gives up on trying to shove Adaman away and goes after Carnivine itself, making swift work of kicking it's ass and sending it packing

Bonus points if it's an alpha of something adorable like Bidoof or Combee or whatever but my brain defaults to a Luxray so do with that what you will

Adaman runs over to you and drags you behind a tree. There's blood. Oh Almighty Sinnoh you are bleeding Quite A Lot and he's freaking out because Pokémon are so dangerous why the fuck were you toying with it why couldn't you have just let him fought it with his Leafeon or something oh fuck you're gonna die-

You cover your mouth. Cough. He's trying to stop the bleeding but his hands are shaking and

Wait

The blood has stopped

???

There's this very faint golden glow around you for a few moments. Your wound heals. You're all good. Somewhere between amused because this happens to you all the time and a little guilty because poor boy was so scared for you

He's still shaky so help him wash his hands and bring him back either to his settlement or the research camp, whichever is closest.

Explain about your healing powers. Once you do he calms down a lot.

By the time you reach wherever you're dropping him off at, you're both joking about what happened.

See the full post

284 notes - Posted March 9, 2022

Smooches :(

I'm going to assume this is a request about the Last Legacy M4 since that's what I write the most of. Mayhaps this is your way of saying you want a smooch, in which case I say 'same'. But I'm not actually sure. So while I appreciate you thinking I'm smart enough to get this, I am actually Very Very Stupid and taking a swing in the dark here. Hope you enjoy!

GN!reader, fluffy fluff

Felix

I think Felix is a very big fan of casual smooches. He's been studying or working on experiments for nine hours straight and you just swoop in out of nowhere to kiss his cheek. Instant Dopamine Boost. Instant energy.

In as much as I like to joke about Felix being Easily Flustered, he's also the only Starswon (Rime notwithstanding) that's been in a canon long-term relationship. He's definitely get a lil embarrassed hehe blushy blushy man but he keeps his composure fairly well. Sometimes makes a little noise, sometimes shrinks up a little bit, the tips of his ears turn pink. But he'll look at you and pout and ask if That's All He's Getting™

If you sit with him while he's reading, I think he smooches you a lot. Doesn't even pull his eyes away from the page, just kinda leans over and kisses your cheek, your jaw, your neck, whatever's close enough. He's Focused™ but he still wants to worship you a lil

When he's not distracted by studies, he's a bit more flustered but he still gives you a lot of little kisses and smooches and pecks

I think especially when something reminds him of Rime. I feel like we don't talk enough about Protective!Felix being afraid of losing MC. So anyways when something makes him think of Rime, it kinda automatically makes him think about how Rime died, and that stresses him. Even if it was Unavoidable, he still worries about that happening to you. So he'll randomly pepper your cheeks and lips with little kisses and hold your hand. Kisses the back of your hand too.

I feel like all of Felix is very soft,, includes his lips,,,, do with that info what you will,,,,,,

He do Big Spell. Head Hurty. When he tries to sleep, smooch his temple. Makes him feel better.

Anisa

Heheh...ehehehe.....cat wife kisses

Gods i miss her

I feel like she loves all types of smooches, but especially sneaky ones! She's spent such a long time following the rules and being The Model Citizen™ that she likes the thrill of it. She's also incredibly proud to be your Knight In Shining Armor!! And as long as you guys aren't doing anything too dirty she doesn't care who sees a bit of PDA.

I think she'd like being kissed on her hands/wrists, tip of her nose, and collarbone. If you wanna be cute and kiss her chest where your heart is, she'll be super flustered but like it (as long as you guys aren't in public at that point).

Her favorite places to smooch you would probably be,,, your forehead (she uses her hands to smoosh your cheeks a lil whenever she kisses your forehead) and the spot below your ear. Maybe nips at your earlobe a little bit when she's feeling flirty but probably not in public

I feel like she hugs you from behind a lot!! Possibly sneaks up on you to give you surprise kisses.

She comes home after a long day of work,, she's so tired,,, help her pull her armor off,,,, give her a lil kiss on the shoulder,,,,,, she melts,,,,,,,,, and when she has nights when the memories are too much for her to deal with and she can't sleep, cuddle her. In between stories and jokes and dreams you two shares, smooch her hand/wrist. Makes her very calm.

I think if you guys are laying around and just kinda relaxing and you suddenly start kissing her, she would purr a little. I don't even know if half-ilephtas can purr, but damnit, she does.

Sage

I was gonna say that I hc that the only source of wholesome smooches Sage ever had before you was probably like, when he and Tulsi were younger and say she was afraid of a thunder storm he would probably kiss the top of her head or whatever (which is something my older sister still does to me a lot when I'm upset) but after That Post from the Insta I feel like that'd be inappropriate,,, which is really shitty because siblings should be allowed to show affection for each other without people being freaks about it,,,,,

But anyways

I think Sage is used to making out and whatever, but soft lil smooches??? Foreign concept.

The first time you smooch his cheek out of nowhere he just bluescreens. He's dead. Gone. Vanished. Slain. He tries to be flirty to hide his embarrassment but you give him this wholesome little smile and he just puts his head down because he needs a second

He's a bit of an attention whore so once you start he doesn't want you to stop. If you're busy studying he 10,000% does the lil headbutt thing.

Definitely likes kissing your hands and nibbling on your fingers a lil but also your forehead, the top of your head, and the crook of your neck because he's trying to hide his face a lil cause he's blushing

Ooh big strong cat man blushing like a tomato because he's being sweet on his loving partner

I also think Biting Is A Love Language! You will get nibbled on often!! Obviously when he's flirty he's messing with you that way but even when he's just being a blushing dork, he gives you a lil love bite. Though I have a thing for marking so porhaps I'm projecting but I'm sure you don't mind

Loves it when you kiss his head/ears, his cheeks, probably his chest too. And if you kiss his scars? Especially while mumbling a bit of praise about how big and strong he is? He simply Ceases To Exist.

See the full post

289 notes - Posted April 11, 2022

Mc being to afriad to tell the LIs she loves them so she says it when she thinks they're alseep but theyve caught on and are only just pretending to sleep so they can hear it

Ajfigkda I love this trope so much 🥺

GN!Reader, sleepy times

Felix Escellun

Felix has noticed that you are,, a little more shy than normal. Certainly more affectionate but a little less talkative, a little less open.

At first he thinks something is wrong. Did he maybe do something? Are you alright?

But then one day you hug him from behind and nuzzle into the crook of your neck. Mumble something he doesn't catch into the skin of his shoulder. And when he asks you to repeat it you just squeeze him a little tighter.

That's when he first realizes what it is you really want to say.

Do you think,, he was the one to say it first to Rime? Because in my head I think Rime said it first, and I think that's how Felix kind of recognizes what you're up to.

But he wants to give you some space for it. So,,

It's been a long day of studying. You've been doing it again - starting to speak, pausing, shaking it off and sinking back into a mostly-comfortable silence.

Mostly comfortable. It's an itty bit awkward. The 'weight of unsaid words' and all that.

Well, wouldn't the best way to fix it be to get the words said? He thinks so. So that day, in the study, he makes a show of curling himself up in the armchair and leaving the blanket bunched around his waist before 'falling asleep'

It takes about ten minutes. Your footsteps are soft and light and gentle and he only hears them because he was listening. You pull the blanket up over his shoulders. Tuck it in a little. Brush some of the hair away from his face. He's trying really hard not to smile because you're being so soft. And then you lean down and whisper 'I love you' and his face is flaming red and then as soon as you leave the room he sinks down into the blanket and just makes a really quiet noise because yeah he was expecting but still-

Spends the next 20 minutes basically squealing into his blanket before getting himself together. The next time you come in he kisses your hand continues with his reading. Hopefully now that you've said it, you'll be brave enough to say it again

Anisa Anka

Anisa kind of sees it coming but she also doesn't want to jump the gun y'know? Cause like, if she says it first and you weren't ready to say it, then that's gonna pressure you into saying it. And she doesn't want that.

So what should she do? You keep blushing whenever you look at her for too long and ugh you're making it so obvious it's adorable

But she doesn't want to make things weird, doesn't wanna put any pressure on you. It's her job to protect you in this world. She can't abuse that position, not even accidentally.

Hm. This really is rather difficult to navigate around.

Once night she gets home late from her patrol. She creeps back into the apartment to see that you're in her bed, all bundled up and drooling on her pillow a little. She chuckles a little to herself as she changes out of her armor and into something more comfortable. Then she goes to sleep on the couch.

As she's laying there, trying to fall asleep, she hears soft footsteps. Your footsteps, she'd recognize them anywhere. You walk over and carefully nudge a pillow (not the one you drooled on, obviously) under Anisa's head. She's wide awake but she's feigning sleep, wanting to see what you do.

'...hey... Anisa. I love you.'

Her hair poofs a bit as she tries really, really hard not to smile like a fool.

'Wh- A-Anisa! You're not even asleep!'

She opens her eyes with a little laugh and lightly grabs your hand, keeping you from shyly scurrying away. She wants to see your face, after all. 'How could I possibly sleep when the person I'm in love with just said they love me?'

Your eyes are big and wide because Oh She Just Confessed To Loving You Back and she's just giggling because you look so cute. She also feels a little light-headed from a mix of happiness and adrenaline because She Really Likes You And Her Heart Is Racing.

You guys end up falling asleep in her bed. Together.

Sage Lesath

Y'know I don't think Sage sees it coming!! He's never been in love before and he's never stayed with any one person long enough for him to recognize the signs. No, I think that he knows something is up but he doesn't know what.

See the full post

360 notes - Posted May 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Imagine if the ArcPhone has it's own WiFi network so the player can look stuff up

During a meeting you're just looking up dramatic music stings and randomly playing one whenever Kamodo/Adaman/Irida/Cyllene starts talking

When Laventon talks you play various clown themes (affectionate)

You play train sounds around Ingo because it makes him happy (even if he can't remember why)

Teach Melli about Snapchat and filters

Make 'wot in tarnation' memes about Lian

Show Iscan some scary Dusclops fanart if you wanna be evil

If you wanna be nice show him cute fanart

Change the phone's clock in front of Adaman just to piss him off

Change the phone's location in front of Irida just to piss her off

Teach Rei and Akari some Vocaloid songs+dances and encourage them to show everyone

You get a text from Arceus

There's a link that he says is some important information about how to fight Electrode or whatever

You click it

It's a Rick Roll

1,739 notes - Posted March 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #i like how 3 of my 5 top posts are legends arceus even tho i rarely post about it lmao

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jupiter-reimagined · 2 months ago

Note

Kali hears Shadow barking and howling and he tells Lakshmi, who nicely is helping him out on the ranch because she wants something to do while not at school, to say where she is. He goes to near the house and sees Butcher and Charlie, stopping in his tracks.

"Is this real?" he thinks to himself before deciding he doesn't care whether this is a dream or reality, he takes off running towards those two regardless. And he takes the both of them into a bone-crushing hug, still noticeably wearing his wedding ring.

"You're both alive," he murmurs in awe, choking back tears as he grips them tight. Maybe there is a God, because they're back in his arms and his life again.

Honestly, Kali has been looking like how he looked in that ranchless ranch AU where he was overworking himself to the point where he looked so skinny. The only thing that was keeping him from dropping dead on the ground from how much he was working for the past half year was Lakshmi and Sammy needing him to stay alive. (Mostly Lakshmi since Sammy still had Stone and Sylvester, but still.)

hello, what. this is literally the perfect ask. im putting this into my treasure chest (aka the fave tag)

butcher doesn't let go of kali. he *cant*. he just cant. he's got his wedding ring hidden somewhere on his body, because he was terrified to lose it or to get it messed up when doing dirty work

butcher's family already knew he and charlie are back. they stopped by in person and elizabeth smacked the shit outta butch for making her worry. sure, shes used to him coming and going as he pleases but *cmon* a little warning next time???

so. the ranches were the last stop on their list.

sammy looks out of charlie's bedroom window (having been sleeping there a lot) and damn near breaks the hinges off the door as he sprints outside to them. looknat what you did, butcher, your son's crying. sigh.

#response #the-whispers-of-death #fave #so much fave...

0 notes

gruusha · 5 months ago

Text

ᴍᴏᴏɴ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ

𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔. 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎. 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛. 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍. 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞? 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜. 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔. 𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚕𝚢. ( 6 )

it's been twenty minutes since they abruptly left their hotel, and only now do they take a seat upon a stone bench at the edge of town. breath leaves their lungs as though someone smacked their back, courtesy of the roughness with which they'd sat. the hand which holds his cane remains in front of him, and the other now takes its place atop -- grusha's eyes close & he leans, resting his forehead against the backs of his knuckles. more weight is borne upon the object at this angle than he knows he should allow, but in this instance he can't bring himself to care enough to yield to caution.

lips part and the gym leader inhales, slowly (loudly; breath deep / desperate / steadying) and holds it within his chest 'til he's able to begin hearing his heartbeat (still erratic; medication yet to kick in) within his ears & feel it more strongly behind his ribs.

dreams are scary when they're nightmares, yes... ... but they are all the more horrifying when they are memories.

a hole of hell so dark & deep grusha saw no way out. pain, constant & mind-numbing, was all they knew. "thoughts and prayers" useless & grating echoed in their head with the reminder those that should've been support systems were minds reduced to empty husks & polluted by blind faith. not wanting to die but no desire to live -- watching the world pass by in a haze through agony & anger & anguish. no energy or motivation to keep their room more than minimally hospitable, any taste of willingness to try turning to ash on grusha's tongue the moment they saw something in their room that reminded them of the loss that was all too fresh. the dream had been a hell he'd lived & breathed for longer than he wants to admit. all this had been was a reminder.

... and it scared them.

because for even just a moment upon waking, they thought the life they'd begun to reclaim over the last several years was the dream, instead.

grusha felt as though their grip on reality slipped however slightly. but the longer they sit here / breathe the hearty scent of pine, the more he's able to affirm this is real.

they're no longer drowning in their own hell.they'd won that battle... they're not still fighting the worst of it.

finally, their eyes open. another laborous inhale is taken, and this time as the exhale leaves him, they sit up. their back cracks (loudly) in doing so, the entirety of their body already aching from the rough / haphazard manner they'd gotten themselves out of bed & all but dashed out the door. they'd needed to be anywhere but that room.

fingers curl tightly overtop the cane before one hand releases, falling to the stone bench's edge. after a moment, the other lifts the cane & sets it on the slab as well, and both hands are able to move to the ledge behind him... and he stretches, shoulderblades pressing together as relief for his upper back is found.

maybe they'd eventually try sleeping again... but that won't happen until they've calmed entirely.

#johtomoonfest2024 #uhhh some cw probably appropriate #suicide ideation cw #but also open? can be? just make a new post + @ me #idk what muses would be out at (looks at watch) Yes o'Clock but any 3am squad?

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cryptid-killjoy · 4 months ago

Text

GoGo didn't pull any sensitive offenses. Jetsam checked that off in his mind. CHECK. He was right about her. CHECK. Then she offered a possible dress swap at some point. DOUBLE CHECK. Then her suggestion was to go on a joyride? TRIPLE DOG CHECK YA. Hello. Jetsam just earthly approved of Scout's friend that fast.

"I haven't been behind the wheel of a car since I smashed up old coin hips' car. Do you know how many years ago that was? Me either. I don't keep track. Fuck calendars."

Then he reared back and roared a gutteral metal scream while beating his chest. It seemed like it shouldn't be able to be done without a mic and some petals but there he was like he had a natural reverb box in his belly.

"Let's go bitches!" He sounded off like he was commanding a chaotic army of anarchy even though he was basically only addressing Scout and GoGo.

That loudness got two more people's attention though. Chip and Dale. Jetsam's actual biological sons. Fire lit behind both their eyes. It was the thrill seekers' flame ingited in the both of them. Dale was loudest when he hollered back. He didn't get to see glimpses of his father like Chip did. Chip had a secret world with him in the middle-worlds with Savvy, but not Dale.

"Regulators!" Dale called out, an ol' thing his dad used to do when they were young to gather everyone up.

So Scout called out, "Mount up!"

It was a Young Guns thing when they got on their horses, but they always said it when they'd scramble for their atv's and go out in the wilds of Laveau Estate back in the day. Today they were being joyriders and finding something out there to ride in the wilds of Feral. Chip heard about all the zombies. It made him start to feel like a little piece of home was in him. He turned and gave his wives a signal he was outtie and went running after his brother and sister... and god damn dad. The dad he killed, yeah, this was going to be a good fucking night.

Dale jumped on a table and threw his Barbie Doll box over his head and tried to ring it around Ellie's whole body like a last party game as the group went running out to cause havoc in the Feral streets.

Babyface would turn in his cop outfit ready to smack a bitch down for fucking with Ellie when he realized it was Dale.

"That fucker." His eyes tried to keep up with the crew weaving around dancers jamming out to the exit.

"We should go see what the Hell they're doing." He suggested before taking off looking more like a cop after someone with his billyclub out than a criminal for once in his life. Halloween wonders.

The young Laveau crowd with GoGo had gotten the drop on him though. He was lagging behind when he got outside. His excitement was banking on a thrill himself with all the hussle he was seeing, but what he didn't expect was for his feet to stop when he saw the beach at the bottom of the castle. He stopped running.

"Ells?" Something about fresh water had a way of taking him back to the island. It became that moment where Babyface Beagle didn't follow the crowd and instead stood in his unhealed feelings. He hadn't meant to be a party downer, but it caught him right in the chest.

"We're in Feral." The reality of where they were started to truly dawn on him for the first time. They'd come for a costume ball, but how often were they really allowed in this place? It had access to Pleasure Island.

"I have to go there. We have to go. I'm going before Delta tries to put us back on that bus out. I have to see it."

It. He didn't say the words, but it ached inside him. Maybe she wasn't the same, but it's all he could think of now. To him she had to know.

---

Valerie said it like Thomas was special and the reason why because he absolutely was. He confirmed. She was fucking with him tonight. "I'm a house. It's my god damn house." She grinned. Not a box. Never in the box again. "I'm with you." She needed all those words tonight. Moreso she needed the expression on her husband's face, the way he paid attention. That's why she was with him. Never ignored. Never brushed off. This was where she felt like she mattered. She mattered.

She felt the rush of her family racing off for different fun. They all became a blur behind the order of her eyes. That was okay. Thomas was still front and center.

"I would love to dance."

She held her hand out to be swept off to the dance floor. It looked like someone was going to have a traditional night at this ball after all.

Then there was Pierre. Zero and Seven did step aside. If Zero was a long time coming, Piper was a whole other level. Pierre altered her forever. Paramour yes, but it was more. They were supposed to be family. No one cut this thread.

There was a literal inferno beneath her skin that only existed in her eyes because of him. It burned through doors to open magics inside her she could dream of controlling. But, that was the thing about fire wasn't it? Fire was dangerous and hard to contain. It ignited other worlds within her. Sleeping worlds were now awake in her veins.

"Nope. I should have known better." There was a smile. "I'm glad. I always had a soft spot for your face." She took the hug in and used it to her advantage. She was anything but appropriate. Piper didn't skirt anything after that. She slipped a hand down his front, soothed right over his cock with one hand and kissed him clean on the lips in front of everyone. "I really, really missed you." She'd say ever so sensually. But, she didn't let go of his cock when it was over.

"Shhh. Don't move. Don't try a time loop. You're already in one. You don't want to cross magics like that. They think we're still kissing."

She held not a knife, but her curled hand to his throat, like Vader began to squeeze his throat without even touching him. "That's all they see. But, you listen to me. I don't care if you think you're here for all Hallow's thin veil. I've been pouring the purple sands for a long time waiting for your grain to drop. Wishing. Manifesting. Summoning you. I think I know a way for you to come back here, but you have to vow to leave the Bellerose's in peace. Can you do that? For me? For fucking once, do right by me?"

Contradictory much? A little confusing. Probably. But Piper wasn't fucking around. She never did anymore. She wanted him to know he was wanted here, but it didn't matter, she'd fuck him the fuck up in this world or the next if he fucked with her sister's head again if she gave him this chance and it actually worked. Hell, maybe he didn't want to come back? Maybe he'd disappoint her all over again.

----

When Maddy explained to him Pierre was definitely still dead and reminded him of Frollo Bastien's heart sank. He didn't care about Pierre anymore. It showed deep down to Bastien Pierre wasn't a real threat, more a pest.

"If Pierre and the Merry Men got in the castle then... Frollo." Bastien's hands actually started to tremble along with the side of his jaw when his mouth wasn't closed. This was a true Halloween fright to him and it was only a mere thought. "Let's stay close to Frankie tonight. It's a shields up night, Maddy." Bastien didn't even know if Frollo was really there, but he wasn't taking any chances, not with his little girl.

It was about then the Merry Men started to gather around one of their favorite castle couples.

It was Wulf who brought Agnes the piggie up to Maddy. "Someone misses you." To Bastien he'd say, "After all the times I've hooked you up I know you got something for me now."

Bastien would give him the, "Just let me get Frankie first and then I got you covered."

The whole crowd would start to distract them. Lance would ask people thought he could play music too. He wanted to hold a real guitar again in his real hands. All sorts of hub bub was going on.

River had needed that hug from Elsa. It went on so long it was like a Disney World character hug where the mascot refuses to let go until the patron did. River nearly didn't let go.

As much as River enjoyed Koda he was happy enough to sit with Elsa. It didn't even dawn on him to go running off with the others of his family yet because he'd been so attached to the house in New Zealand. He followed Flotsam/Valerie nearly everywhere they went watching out for entities that might try and slip into her necro-magnetic field.

He'd meant to spend a little more time with his siblings, but it seemed his other dad got to them first and had them on exit. "I uh... I already climbed that moutain once today. I'm not doing it again. I think I'll stay here." He said as he watched them all fleeing on some kind of excited high.

No. River would stay and dance with his parents. Elsa first. Then he might try to cut in on Thomas if they hadn't finished by then. He looked over at his mother-form Valerie and Thomas dancing. River hadn't gotten to see her in a big gown like that in real life dancing so happily before. Thomas always made her happy, but this was different. He could see she was living her fantasies in real life with him. Now if only Elsa would say yes to a dance with him.

"Ma. Er. I mean... Mother. We should dance. Will you dance with me?"

Back in the throne room. "School. Ew." Silas looked annoyed by the thought and blew it off. That was the thing though wasn't it? Silas had so much going on. Halloweentown High. He never wanted to do that. He did it to make his father happy. Oogie happy? He was following a lead that didn't exist for him. His real parent was gone. He was cut off from Oogie when he got trapped in Feral. He'd found out too much along the way. He knew who his biological mother was now. There were a lot of ways to feel, but he wasnt sure he felt any. What Silas did thrive in was his routines. When his way was thrown out of wack meltdowns would happen. He'd been in Feral a long time now and his new routines were in place. He still couldn't help but feel life was easier when he had a Jenner Chernabog to do things for him.

"You should give me my father back, and let us move in the castle, give us a room, each of us of course."

Delta's face couldn't have been further from contorted. Her hunch's whole body might have twisted into every line her face had. "Why would I do that?"

"I can't get out of Feral. I've tried. You have the best castle and it'll make my life a whole lot easier if I just have him back. He does things for me I don't like to do."

Delta looked over at Frank and she couldn't take it. She sort of wanted to do the expressionless thing, but she couldn't. She upchucked some real laughter deep from within. It jostled her so much her curls bounced upward on her sproingy head.

Then the face Silas started making due to her mocking him only made her laugh more. She couldn't breathe.

She had to hold onto the side of Frank's arm to catch her breath before she finally said, "So let me get this straight. You want us to give a shit what makes your life easier?" She even wiped her face on Frank's sleeve. They were actually watering it made her laugh so hard.

"Is this really happening right now?" Delta thought he might be mentally challenged.

Then Silas responded, "So you're saying I need to earn my keep to help you here?" He still tried to explain it to Delta. "That's what my dad is for. He's the one that does things for other people. Me too. He can't do them from in there. Just let him out and we can both get things."

"I've had him this whole time. If I wanted him out don't you think I would have?" Delta wasn't even sure why she was arguing with him. There was something about him that made her want to engage.

"No. He must have made you mad to put him in there. He loves me. If he has me here he'll do what you say because he'll be happy. It's a win-win, Delta, Frank. I can control him. I always do. I'm the joy of his life, his reason for going on without madness. He said so. Besides you, Delta. He always said that. There's Delta and there's me. His boy. We're the only thing that keeps his head above board after Hades. You know it's true."

Ok, now Delta's face was changing. She knew anything could go wrong with a plan like that. She thought of about a dozen ways it could go south in a matter of a minute. Still, she'd been trying to figure out how to safely handle him if she dared eject him from the vessel. Uncle Jenner. Delta was more sentimental about it than Silas was. Silas had attachments, but Delta actually cared in her depths. They weren't the same kind of emotions Delta had which was why this was walking a fence and Frank could probably feel it by all the sudden involuntary imagery in her head of her past.

"You think you can walk in here and get me all stirred up for Uncle Jenner because you have Daddy issues?"

"Uncle issues much? Pot. Black."

Her eyes narrowed in on him. Then without moving her head she told Frank on their private frequency "I want him alive. But he's yours until further notice. Tower. Dungeon. I don't care. I don't care what you do as long as he survives it with enough surgeon's fingers left to surg. I have to think. Don't judge me right now, Lurch. I can't think. I need to think."

She shivered as she dared let her head test the waters of what Jenner once insinuated. That she had a brother. A cousin? Like family? Delta hated this shit. Right when she thought she was out a thread with a grapple hook would pull her back in. This was why she liked Hell. It was silent. Just her and Frank. All that longing for family always disappeared there. She suddenly felt like blaming her father for this.

Then she remembered Oogie. "Get this Oogie lover out of my face."

"Heyyyy, guys. There's no Oogie in Feral." He tried to reason.

Then she held up a hand for Frank to wait.

"You are seriously trying to tell me you don't care about Oogie and expect us to just forgive and forget you were with her before? Yeah, right."

"No. I expect you to understand I'm not what you think I am."

Delta was too fuming to understand it because he was getting under her skin. It was hard to do but he was close enough to know her triggers. But what he meant was he wasn't like others. He didn't feel inside like others. Nothing counted to him because in his mind nothing was real. In his mind all he did was walk up and offer his control services of his father in exchange for accomidations. But, that's because he couldn't feel what Delta did. His attachments always came with a use for him not an actual sentiment. He didn't like staying out where he had to keep figuring out his own food, doing his own cleaning. Life was annoying without a father to delegate tasks.

“Later,” Go-Go said to Nebby, much more distracted by this dead dad. He didn’t look dead, not like River over by the piano did. That made this a lot more interesting. Jetsam had a big grin on his face so Go-Go grinned too at seeing her best friend happy, and this crazy looking guy happy too.

“Yeah, that sounds accurate,” Go-Go nodded at the description of her. Beanpole, check. Computer chip? Check. Ready to go ludicrous speed? Double check. Call her a black 1970 Dodge Charger R/T because she was fast and furious, baby. She looked down at her dress, smoothing it over her small frame. “Yeah? Maybe we could do a swap sometime.”

She started to laugh at Scout’s joke too - she followed Koda on instagram after meeting him, even though they’ve never really spoken. So she knew who the horse was. And knew that there was one man in this room who would very much disagree that a horse would look good, ever. Which made her chuckle a little harder.

Think fast? Yeah, she was.

“I was thinking we could go o a joy ride with some of the cars that I saw down in town, have some fun with no speed limits and no annoying pedestrians?”

She was thinking she wanted to try car surfing too, even if it was extremely dangerous but the wind whipping through her hair? The adrenaline? Fuck, it seemed like it would be a real trip.

Thomas found it hard to concentrate on his own vision at times but he did practice a lot, especially while he was working on his projects at home. The little details in carvings from the bed frames to the statuettes he made, he had to have a precise eye. But he was’t looking at Valerie the same way that he looked at a project. He was looking at her like she was the finished product, and he was admiring it. She was more gorgeous and awe-worthy than the Statue of David, had more strength than the terracotta army, and more elegant than the Bust of Nefertiti.

More than her song - Thomas wanted her here for everything.

And he was pretty sure everyone else did too. Delta didn’t invite her here just to perform. She wasn’t here to provide the entertainment, Valerie wanted to do that. And now she could take a step back, relax, and enjoy the party, even with Jetsam here. He seemed preoccupied for now, anyhow. And when he would, invariably, make his way over, Thomas was going to be right there.

A smile widened on his face when she said those fucking powerful words.

“You’re goddamn right,” He said with a stiff nod. She had more right to be here than a lot of these people. Than these ghosts. But man his heart was touched and his cock was growing hard. She said that like he was special too. Like she was special because she was HIS fucking wife, when she had always had the capacity to glow on her own.

“And I’ll remind you every single time. You’re not a box. You’re a whole goddamn house,” He told her. Because there were bits of Valerie all over their home, from her loaded closet in the bedroom to the Nutella always kept in the cupboard in their kitchen. No one puts baby in a corner. No one puts Valerie in a box.

He squeezed her hand once hers had reached his. Her strength was incomparable. “Yeah - you’re here with me tonight, love, and I’m going to make sure that we have the best time.”

Though the main show was over, Valerie’s singing, Black Arts’ playing, the dancers gone to their dates or frieds, Cheshire was still playing music over the speakers. He brought Valerie’s hand up to his mouth with a small smile making the corners turn upwards. “Care to dance with me?”

“Thank you,” Elsa said with a small bow of her head. The dress was quite dramatic, but it seemed to fit the theme. Normally she wouldn’t go through such rigamole for a single event but - this felt different. She was REALLY here with Koda, and everyone was seeing it this time around. Everyone, all together. So she allowed her credit card to get a little wear and tear.

And then River told them that he had been working on this, and he had been around and Koda’s amazement. It made her take a step out of herself for a moment and think about what River must have been up to. She had put herself in isolation for a large portion of her life, and it had been uncomfortable. River was a social being, and he had been forced into it, into being this invisible ghost that can only be seen during rare occurrences. Of course he had been practicing for this. It made her tighten that hug up once more.

The two boys - the two most important in her life, finished each other’s sentence in a different way and it even had her laughing a little. Seeing them together was just - good. Just like how she was going to be feeling good to watch this River interact with the rest of his family tonight.

“Yes, of course,” She said, nodding towards Koda. And then a small little smile at his double-meaning. She was always cool, wasn’t she? Though not as cold. “I’ll be alright.”

There was no ‘Tell him I say hello’ because Elsa just didn’t. She had nothing to say to Jetsam.

"You're still a charmer, River."

Stiffness - but not resistance. A part of him had expected a tantrum - but that was going off of the young man’s face rather than his mind. He just - very much looked the type. Spoiled soft. Rotten. But he didn’t resist, he walked without causing a scene. Another interesting thing to notice.

“I didn’t ask for a history lesson,” Frank said, lowly. “I’m out of school now, don’t need lectures.”

He wasn’t the only one with imagination. Delta had it in hoardes too. Turning the horse from a metaphorical thing into something real that their uninvited guest could be shoved into, he liked that. His mind went through the old gypsy-torturing technique of cutting open a horse’s stomach, shoving the owner inside, and then putting it over a burning flame to suffocate and heat to death at the same time? He’d like to do something like that. He didn’t have a great love for animals.

Oogie had been too pre-occupied to think about Delta. The Horned King’s spell had taken some of her best and brightest from her school, and she had to reassure many grieving parents that if their kids had any sense in their goddamn heads, they would have just stayed at her school instead of venturing out into NOLA. It was their own faults for leaving Halloweentown in the first place. There was a lot of victim blaming there. And then trying to groom the ones that were leftover. She had given Silas space in her new torture rooms to do as he wished, order what he wished, play with whoever he wished. But didn’t have the proper time to actually spend with him and share her own wicked imagination.

And then his acid girl spit through the shit, getting right to the point and he focused his eyes on Silas, waiting for a lie. He didn’t find one.

Well, it wasnt exactly the most exciting reason. But it wasn’t the stupidest either.

Pierre had been looking at Piper over Zero’s shoulder for a full minute now. Did a part of him love her, the way that it loved few other of his paramours? Yes. She lingered. She lingered hard, like lipstick on his skin, like perfume after she left the room.

And Seven and Zero stepped back like this was some kind of a movie and this was the presentation of the hot female actress. Perfectly centered between the two men and heading straight for him, like something out of a dream.

“You think anything could completely get rid of this beautiful face?” Pierre said, closing his eyes as he hugged Piper, taking in the rich smell of her hair, her perfume. Did this girl even sweat? Seemed unlikely.

She smelled of their burning tree.

And in true Pierre fashion, his hands didn’t just go around her shoulders or back in that hug. They trailed down past her waist, to where back turned into ass, just skirting being inappropriate.

Maddy wasn’t paying attention to Pierre anymore. She had been walking towards their group of friends, Wulf, Arthur, Little John, Lance, having already called the first two’s names but they were looking around the room rather than focusing on individual people, apparently. Then Bastien returned to her and laid out that question.

She put her hand on his arm. “Oh, he’s still dead, Bastien,” She said, slowly. “Some ghosts can gather their strength and come back during the year, the way that Frollo did. But most others have to wait until Halloween to take on any sort of form. He’ll leave. He has to leave. And I’m not wasting another thought on him until I have to.”

It did show her one thing though. It was possible to hug the dead. And there were people here she definitely wanted to hug.

#babyfacexellie #jetsamxgogo #dalexellie #scoutxgogo #chipxgogo #piperxpierre #valeriexthomas #bastienxmaddy #deltaxfrank #silasxfrank #wulfxmaddy #riverxelsa

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