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catnipster69 · 2 years ago

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J2 Fic Recommendations Full List

My wincest rec list was getting so long, I thought I’d break out the J2 ones since that’s not everyone’s cup of tea.

Wincest rec list here.

Light

Black Cat Mercantile by deadlybride @zmediaoutlet

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19348303

Searching for materials for a new sculpture he's planning, Jared gets sent to a magical salvage shop in a bad part of town. The proprietor's got a great artistic eye, a criminal conviction, and an attitude that could earn him a punch to the face. Jared finds himself coming back, anyway.

One of my favorites, very literary; I can just imagine this as a regular book if it were expanded.I just want to point out that a scale for wincest fic from lightest to darkest could skew pretty dark, so although I put this in “Light,” it’s not exactly without angst and background trauma. I’m not totally feeling my darkest category right now...

The King’s Hound by tryfanstone

https://archiveofourown.org/works/488844

To the victor goes the spoils, and Jensen's about to find out just how victorious Jared's feeling. Bonus: D/s, spanking, rimming, felching, creampie, bareback, orgasm denial, nipple play. Make it hot. Jensen eventually learns his place.

This one is a more recent discovery. My ability to find first-rate fics has slowed down quite a bit with the amount I read, so it’s always a delight to find one! Tryfanstone has many others worth reading, but this one is my favorite. I know, “light” for forced servitude? I dunno, it ends well.

Get Some [Ink] by BewareTheIdes15

https://archiveofourown.org/works/215362

Most high school kids who got lewd, cryptic notes from their bosses would probably have said bosses sued for sexual harassment. Most high school kids don't have bosses like Jensen.

Just insanely hot.

Prime by @hellhoundsprey

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8792401

Jensen watches Misha’s pet for a week.

I find the whole “humans, but they’re animals?” genre pretty interesting. Like, this can only work on the page, because a visual representation would be jarring. And what's really going on here? It's a mood.

Gray

Do I seem bulletproof to you? by fleshflutter

https://fleshflutter.livejournal.com/43577.html

When he can't find any acting work, Jared takes a job as driver and bodyguard to Jensen, who is an extremely expensive prostitute with a bad habit of attracting crazy people.

Fleshflutter has the ability to make what should be boring, everyday interactions totally compelling. Not that this story has no plot, but it's kind of leisurely in its storytelling. I do wish this were on AO3.

Fate is a Traveler by @bangingpatchouli (sylsdarkplace)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7822885

Jensen lives apart, destined to never mate. His only purpose is to service the sexual needs of the alphas of his village. His survival is predicated on the good will of those alphas until the night he’s expected to service a stranger who is just passing through.

I don’t usually go for A/B/O, as I’ve stated, but I was pleasantly surprised by this one. I put it in the gray zone, but (spoiler) it has a happy ending.

Over the Wall by cherie_morte

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13479252

The achronological he said-he said account of Jared and Jensen's jailhouse romance.

I just want them to be ok! ok?

Don't Touch What's Mine by Anonymous

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35278282

Jensen's cock belongs to Jared. Jensen is not allowed to touch his cock at all, and Jared never touches it when they fuck. According to Jared, Jensen needs to learn to come from being fucked in the ass or he won't get to come at all. Ever.

Why Anonymous, my dear writer?

Into His Hand by drvology

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31783861

JR Ackles is a professional bullrider at the top of his game. He's got one thing on his mind: winning the championship belt buckle and the right to call himself the best in the world. His unwavering dedication and focus is finally put to the test in the form of JT Padalecki, an up-and-coming rider new to the professional ranks, who has his sights set on winning the PBR finals - and Jensen. Cowboys ride and get by on grit and tough determination - the question facing Jensen is if they have to do it alone.

This is gray simply because all of the bull riding is scary and dangerous! I can’t say I care at all about rodeos, but this is a gripping read.

stars above, earth below by @hellhoundsprey

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45961108

Back home from an intergalactic war, Jensen struggles to reintegrate himself into society. His childhood best friend Jared is the only one who gets through to him—and not without trouble either. With his back to the wall, Jensen begrudgingly accepts Jared’s help.

I advise you don't read the tags, as there's a twist. Just, very sexy and hopeful.

Dark

Dark and Deep by @bangingpatchouli (sylsdarkplace)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2286690

Jensen has issues, which he manages with carefully staged public sex acts, and thinks he’s in complete control until a stranger comes along with other ideas.

I like stories that are off the beaten track.

Gunpoint by felisblanco

https://archiveofourown.org/works/861978

Jensen got his childhood stolen away from him when he was ten years old. Along with his memory, his voice and every emotion that wasn’t fear, hatred or anger. Question is, can Jared help him get any of it back? And more importantly, does Jensen really want him to?

Couldn’t put it down. Love how the power of love helps, but there’s no magic cure for everything.

Kink Corner

These are the fics I was afraid to post as being too outré; but hell, you’ve made it this far! Your kinks may not be my kinks, but if they are, you’re very welcome.

Life Lessons by Anonymous

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9538715

Jensen is an Alpha who turns humans into omegas and sells them to the highest Alpha bidder. He has saved up quite a fortune and is ready to retire except for one more turning. He wants an omega for himself. He has found the perfect male. He has done his research all he has to do is catch him and turn him. He is hesitant because some humans don't adjust well. He has had repeat customers who put down the original omega they bought because they couldn't accept their fate. Jared has no idea what is about to hit him.

This Anonymous author “gets” me. I still think they should unveil their wonderful selves.

Training Jared by Anonymous

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22060132

Jensen has a large cock. Jared is the one destined to take it. Eventually.

Hello Anonymous again. This author really likes giving it to Jared.

Kennel Training by @bangingpatchouli (sylsdarkplace)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/567716

Jared owns a kennel where he trains very special dogs. Jensen is the newest addition to his kennel. This is very dark fic/horror porn including bestiality.

I get the impression that Syls Darkplace starts their stories as an exercise in kink satisfaction, but then they always turn in an unexpected direction and gain depth as they go. This is super kinky, but also a meditation on victim/perpetrator dynamics and shared trauma.

#catnipster69 recommends #full list #j2 #wincest fic rec #fic recs #fan fiction #my posts #j2 fic rec #wincest

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savage-rhi · 1 year ago

Text

Mending Shadows // Chapter 5

Summary:

Y/N was a simple Scavenger of Lucis, until meeting a deadly blow at the hands of an infected creature. At the crossroads of death, they are found by Niflheim’s cryptic Chancellor with his own agenda. Now bonded to Ardyn Izunia, and tossed into the world of Niflheim, Y/N struggles to cope with their new life as an Imperial Icon all the while battling their feelings toward their fate and that of Ardyn’s.

Click here to read on AO3

Ardyn stretched his arms and yawned. He was leaning up against the front of the Vixen while casting a scrutinizing glare toward the gas meter. The sound of the ocean near the road, and the distinct calls of birds swayed against his ears. He watched as the pump slowly continued to fill the car, and he hummed in thought. The price of fuel these days was abysmal. Then again, the Lucian economy had taken quite a hit due to Niflheim’s war.

“Suppose I can’t blame the royal family for wanting to rob everyone dry,” Ardyn chuckled, amused with himself. The total came to around 2,500 gil. Barely a dent in his pocketbooks, yet he could imagine how trifling that would have been to a small family. Choosing between food and fuel was a product of the modern world that Ardyn didn’t care for. Gone were the days of living within one’s means, and trading goods for other products. His mind started to wander, recalling simpler times and pleasures. As much as Ardyn adored his car and modern world decadence, nothing could ever beat the freedom of riding on the back of either a horse or chocobo from the days of yore. He smiled thoughtfully to himself, remembering the first time he rode such beasts. He shook his head and grimaced when he lingered for too long.

“Sentiment will get you nowhere, old boy.” He muttered to himself with contention.

Ardyn’s eyes peered over to the market next to the fuel station, and he debated with himself about getting a snack and a drink. Furrowing his brows, Ardyn let out the most dramatic sigh one could muster and waltzed to the entrance. There were present-day indulgences that he was addicted to, and he both loathed and prided himself on the fact.

Once inside, Ardyn wasted no effort in creeping around at every item, even down to the little knick-knacks that tourists often bought for keepsakes. He raised a brow at a row of snow globes next to a bag of chips. Each piece contained the Crown City’s iconic towers of the citadel. The temptation to break them all itched at Ardyn’s spine. His eyes cast a glance at the cashier who was counting money in the till. It would be so easy to play the scenario off as a clumsy mistake. Alas, he reminded himself he came here for one thing and one thing only, and sighed in defeat.

After meandering, Ardyn smiled big when he saw row upon row of Ebony in the back fridge. His amber eyes carded over all the black cans with awe when he approached the glass doors. Ever since Accordo put an embargo on Niflheim, he had been months without the brand. Ardyn wasn’t normally one that enjoyed coffee. Caffeine had an unpleasant effect on his mind. With there already being thousands of other occupants behind the wheel, the last thing Ardyn needed was his brain frying under the weight of daemonic energy, and having a high. Ebony was the one brand he made an exception for.

Spotting an unsweetened version of the brand, Ardyn opened up the glass door and crouched down. His fingertips touched the cool texture of the can. The charismatic smile he carried into the market faded.

In what felt like a bad flash from a camera, Ardyn witnessed his fingers touching the chilled texture of a corpse. He saw a woman with her jaw nearly cleaved off. Two men nearby were mangled in a similar fashion. A feeling of dread jolted his nerves.

Ardyn blinked several times, and the can of Ebony came back into view. He paused. His fingertips lingered upon the can, hesitant to pick the beverage up. The deep glare he cast toward the fridge could’ve cut through steel.

In all his years of acting upon the scourge’s influence, and taking the souls of the unwilling into himself, Ardyn believed he’d never get spooked when it came to absorbing the memories of his trespassers. He had performed the action so many times, that it became second nature. This new development troubled him a great deal.

Y/N’s face came to mind. A deep exhale left Ardyn’s nostrils. His eyes closed.

Smoke and chemical grime burned the inside of Ardyn’s nose. Wheezing, he took several steps back from the epicenter of the explosion. His right hand covered his lower abdomen. Blood oozed from a horizontal slash by a sword that cut through his clothes like butter. He gasped in an agonizing groan, feeling a wave of nausea hit. A throbbing sting coming from Ardyn’s neck had him shaking his head back and forth every so often in a vain attempt to tamper down the sensation. Fingers trembling, Ardyn felt his vision begin to fade in and out. He nearly buckled under his own weight. This shouldn’t have been happening. He was immortal. The godforsaken Adagium. Physical pain was something he was more than accustomed to after 2,000 years of solitude, and then additional years of experimentation. He had been shot, stabbed, burned, peeled, and maimed without so much of an expression. Yet here he was near weeping while desperately trying to find a way out of the flames and debris. As Ardyn stumbled, slouching against a wall nearby, he let out a dry heave upon feeling a heavy object hit the middle of his back. He fell forward and caught himself from tumbling at the last second. Ardyn turned around to face his attacker and ducked his head when a long spear attempted to strike his face. This dance played out for a time. His black and yellow eyes flared with vengeful contempt as he inhumanly screeched at the foe. The bottom end of the spear struck his jaw, and the impact sent him flying. Ardyn rolled over a few times before his back slammed against a wall of glass. Shards cascaded around him.

Weakly, Ardyn groaned while attempting to bring himself back to his feet. He panted heavily while blood and scourge leaked from his nose and mouth. He gargled on his own bile, feeling the tip of the spear press firmly to his throat. The owner of the weapon had venom in their eyes. The likes of which even made Ardyn’s daemonic expression look almost human in vulnerability. He had “died” before when people attempted to strike him down. The fear of death was lost on him, but at this moment he felt a dread that should never have gained prospect. “It seems the Gods have favored our side today, Chancellor!” The MedZin guard proclaimed in an exhaustive yell. He prepared to put his full weight against the spear so that the blade would slice Ardyn’s neck and spine in half. A bellowing screech emerged from the flames as did Y/N’s body, jumping into the air and landing on top of the MedZin guard’s back. Y/N’s legs locked around the guard’s waist, and sickle claws began to rip and maim at the back of the man’s skull. The guard fell backward in a desperate attempt to fling off Y/N, and their legs around his abdomen tightened like that of a snake fully dedicated to squeezing the life out of its prey. Ardyn’s eyes widened as he witnessed the altercation. The carnage happened so fast, that he barely registered Y/N being thrown off after the guard had pierced them through several times with the spear and flung them. The yellow in his eyes constricted as he let out a scream; finding motivation to shadow step and deliver the killing blow to the guard by striking their abdomen so hard, that bones cracked.

Spurting out blood and spit, the guard looked up at Ardyn fading eyes, and somehow through adrenaline or pure spite, the guard managed to throw his final words out to Eos. “You may live today, Adagium, but the world will know who and what you are soon. You---can’t keep hiding as Niflheim’s Chancellor---may Ifrit lay waste to----” The guard’s skull cracked and split open upon Ardyn’s left foot kicking downward in a fell swoop. He dug his heel into the cavity for good measure, sneering while his teeth grit. “Pathetic waste, the lot of you,” Ardyn muttered bitterly. His breath became ragged as more smoke began to pool into the heart of the MedZin labs. By his calculation, Ardyn figured he only had ten minutes to get out before being consumed in flames. Turning on his heel after removing his boot from the guard's entrails, he started to limp away, leaving Y/N behind. It was only when he got to the entryway did he stop. His head turned to the side and his eyes lingered on Y/N’s semi-lifeless form. Leaving Y/N to die in the flames of destruction was part of his plan. He’d literally kill two birds with one stone. The information MedZin had stolen about the scourge would perish and he’d keep his promise to Y/N with a quick death. The cherry on top of it all was that Y/N would be framed for Ardyn’s trespasses and crimes in the aftermath. The public would never know of his instigation and true identity. Once the bodies were found, and the evidence planted at the stronghold connected Y/N to both locations, any proof of Ardyn’s interference, of his godforsaken mission, would burn and die with them. It was as perfect as a bow on top of an extravagant gift, yet Ardyn hesitated to accept it. Through the bond of the scourge, he felt Y/N clinging to life. For someone that wanted to die so badly, their instincts to hold out were powerful. Ardyn could feel their blood running hot and cold as if it was happening in his own body. His conscience was almost made up until he heard it. The faint murmur of a plead left Y/N’s mouth. He made a fist so tight that his fingers trembled from the pressure.

Ardyn opened his eyes and he was staring again at the can of Ebony. A morose contemplation traversed his tired gaze. He grabbed a can for himself and hesitated before taking another. Holding onto them with one arm, he closed the fridge door with his free hand and made his way to the cashier to purchase.

Two hours later, the Vixen was parked in a rather large area inland from the coast. From the distance, Ardyn could make out a smaller imperial airship. Several soldiers greeted him with a wave from afar, and he returned the gesture. Nonchalantly, Ardyn exited the vehicle and approached his fellow countrymen with a lopsided smile.

“My, my, aren’t I popular these days?” Ardyn said mischievously. He saw one of the younger men of the group swallow nervously and chuckled. “I do hope that your crossover to Lucis wasn’t turbulent!”

“The travel was not an issue, excellency,” The commander of the group, a man no later than fifty-five spoke up. “We made sure to keep tracking and communications to a minimum so Lucis wouldn’t detect our presence with their magic.”

Ardyn nodded. “About how much longer do you believe that’ll last?”

“Chief Besithia determined forty-eight hours. That being said, the ship is ready for departure at your command, Chancellor. We can have your vehicle and belongings out of here in ten minutes.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Ardyn shook his head and waved the commander off.

“Sir, Chief Besithia mentioned that time was of the essence. We are in enemy territory and understand the great risk involved in assisting this mission. For your safety, I’d like to implore you to consider departing now.”

“You need not remind me,” Ardyn sharply replied. His gaze was so stern that the old man apologetically gave a bow with his head, not feeling up to snuff challenging the Chancellor himself.

“I am awaiting a guest to join us on the journey home,” Ardyn began. He kept his tone neutral, so as to not convey whatever ties he had to Y/N. “I anticipate their arrival will come at dawn. Word of mouth says we should have a fog coming in at that time. What better way to sneak past the Lucian Armada than to take cover in a hazy shroud?”

“I suppose you are correct,” The commander muttered. He cleared his throat. “In any case, we would be honored to get the Vixen on board along with whatever you have.”

“Sounds riveting,” Ardyn mused. He playfully tossed his keys to a young soldier nearby, resisting a smirk when said soldier almost tumbled over himself trying to catch them.

While walking past the group, and heading for the dock of the ship, Ardyn hollered. “If you fine gentlemen need me, I will be in the ship's quarters having a discussion with Chief Besithia on the network!”

“Yes sir!”

Once aboard, a sigh of contentment left Ardyn while he had a look around before traversing to the main quarters. These newer models were less like mazes inside, and Ardyn mentally patted himself on the back for convincing Verstael to invest in a better layout. It didn’t take long before he was alone in a wide room, with windows looking outward toward the land.

Ardyn stopped for a moment to take in the scenery and his brows furrowed into a glare. It wouldn’t be long now until the rich and fertile lands of Lucis would be replaced with the desolate snowscapes that notoriously covered Niflheim. Although he held great contempt in his heart toward the Lucian people and the kingdom as a whole, Ardyn would be lying to himself if he didn’t feel somewhat homesick for his former country. He was going to miss the view.

Sighing deeply through his nose, Ardyn shook his head. He ventured over to a desk with a computer and began setting it up so he could have a face-to-face conversation with his colleague.

“I take it that the war room meeting hasn’t been postponed?” Ardyn made a face as Verstael tiredly rolled his eyes and nodded on the other end of the screen.

“Unfortunately for the two of us, Aldercapt wishes for the meeting to commence when you are verified as healthy to continue to work,” Verstael bitterly stated. “There is also another trivial matter that you and I must contend with upon your return.”

“Oh?” Ardyn perked his eyebrows up. For the first time in the last two hours of conversing with Verstael over the Imperial Network, he felt legitimately curious. “Now don’t leave me on a cliffhanger! I do so hate it when you put on dramatic pauses for effect.”

Verstael’s dry lips curved into a smirk. “You’re lucky I don’t have the strength to call you a hypocrite right now. Alas, I don’t think you will be singing a happy tune to this matter. Aldercapt wishes to proceed with the empire's name day, and all the festivities that it entails.”

“You can’t be serious?” Ardyn’s bluntly said while his brows knitted into a glare. “Not that we don’t have the coin for such extravagance, but this will put a damper on the weaponry budget. Not to mention compensation for security will be tight.”

“There is also the issue of the Tenebrae Ambassadors,” Verstael continued. “Aldercapt invited them over for the ceremonies in the spirit of ‘showing off the splendors of the empire’.”

“More like showing off how much of Tenebrae’s resources we are wasting,” Ardyn snorted. He sighed, rubbing the spot between his eyebrows. “Looks like I have my work cut out for me when I return home. So many fires to put out, so little time.”

“Speaking of putting out a fire,” Verstael began. “You said you were combing over an idea. What has become of that?”

Ardyn remained neutral, even as he heard the eagerness in Verstael’s cadence. “I find myself ruminating on a few concepts. I haven’t made up my mind yet, sad to say. Alas, considering the fact the empire needs to make a good impression on our esteemed allies of Tenebrae, I believe this Lucian souvenir I picked up may come in handy for such an occasion!"

Verstael raised a brow, understanding Ardyn's playful hint and the dangerous implications it entailed. “Not that I don’t believe your twisted mind has conjured up a fool proof plot, but if you recall, you know the penalty of an uninvited Lucian setting foot on Niflheim soil while the empire is at war.”

“I’m well aware,” Ardyn said as a matter of fact and smiled. “However, I’m the Chancellor at the end of the day. I’m confident I can get Aldercapt to lift the penalty just this once for my generous offer.”

“Consider me intrigued,” Verstael chuckled darkly. “How exactly do you intend to use this Lucian?”

“It’s rather simple, I--”

Before Ardyn could finish his sentence, the airship began to violently shake. Through the metallic walls, Ardyn could hear the echoes of explosions going off.

“What in the six hells is happening?!” Verstael yelled from the other end of the screen.

“Obviously, it appears I am under attack,” Ardyn sarcastically quipped.

“Gods, it better not be crownsguard reinforcements!” Verstael’s tone slightly quivered with fear.

“I don’t believe that’s the case,” Ardyn reassured. “If the guard knew of my whereabouts, my being and the ship would’ve been nuked to kingdom come by now.”

“Whoever they are, don’t let them take you into custody!”

Another quake came, nearly knocking both Ardyn and the computer over as the ship tilted more to the left. He gathered himself, remaining composed while an array of chaotic yells and gunfire began to sound off from afar.

“I do so hate to drop our conversation, but duty calls!” Ardyn chimed and ended the call.

Alarms and sirens began to go off within the ship, and a stoic voice on the overhead intercom began to alert everyone on board:

Under attack. Under attack. The East side of the ship is under attack. Reinforcements sent. Under attack.

Ardyn immediately sprinted out of the room and bounded for the airship dock, wanting to assess for himself how dire the situation was. It wasn’t long before he arrived and received an answer in the form of dodging a round of bullets at the last second.

Ardyn sprinted and on his third step, his body molded into a dark mist that transcended over and through supplies and goods. Time came to a grinding halt, but for Ardyn's victims, he might as well been the only living creature that was moving abnormally fast. The yellows of his eyes turned a fiery orange while he zeroed in on several of the intruders.

Jumping into the air, Ardyn summoned his red blade Raksasha, and his assault began. The intruders had no idea what had hit them until their own bodies had tumbled to the floor. Not long after, Ardyn stood over a pile of corpses. Glaring begrudgingly, he crouched down and began to rummage through the clothes of one of his victims. His right hand gripped upon the shoulder pad on the soldier’s left side, and he sneered at the red patch.

“MedZin,” Ardyn muttered and sighed. He thought of Y/N for a split second. “It seems you and I weren’t as thorough as we thought.”

“Chancellor!”

Ardyn immediately turned his head to the sound. He stood up as soon as the commander came into his proximity and quickly waved him down, seeing the fear in his eyes.

“I’m quite fine,” Ardyn firmly stated. “I want a status report, quickly!”

“Y-yes sir!” The commander gestured for Ardyn to follow him outside of the ship.

Another round of explosives went off, making both men nearly lose their footing.

“They came from the North and then started to shoot off explosions to our East wing! Team three and Team ninety-nine are outside, fending them off! There’s two small aircraft! I think we can take them out once they get in range!”

“How many would you estimate are trying to kill us?” Ardyn mused.

“A dozen or so!”

“Concentrate on taking the carriers down. I’ll deal with whoever survives the aftermath!”

The playful yet sinister end of Ardyn’s remark had the commander freeze in his steps, taken back by the sudden change in demeanor. Before he could stop Ardyn, and beckon him to stay close for his safety, the latter pushed past and took off into the fray of battle.

Rushing by several infantrymen firing off explosives and other advanced weaponry, Ardyn kept his eyes on the sky. Sure enough, there were two carriers as the old timer said. One to his left and right, respectfully.

With an eager gaze, like that of a predatory animal watching for weak prey to fall, Ardyn observed the ships go down in a dazzling display of fire and grime after a sixth round of explosives were launched from the imperial troops.

The left carrier was the first to perish, it's pilot unable to dodge a rocket that destroyed its entire front. The ship sunk to Eos like a heavy rock to a large body of water. The right craft met a similar fate. The underbelly of that ship was torn apart by magitek weaponry, a powerful ray that emitted a concentrated amount of energy from various crystals that had been corrupted via the scourge. The carrier spun around several times in freefall before it exploded violently against the soil of Lucis.

Ardyn smirked with pride, getting to see one of his creations in action. He briefly thought back to a time when Verstael had opposed such an invention.

“I told that senile fool it was a grand idea!” Ardyn laughed. His moment of fame was cut short when he zeroed in on survivors making their way out of the debris from the left carrier. He could practically smell the fear emitting off of men and women who scrambled away from the wrecks.

“Oh, we’re going to have some fun!” Ardyn menacingly hissed. He once more shadow-stepped at a lightning pace and drew his red sword out of thin air. With a violent twist of his body, Ardyn began his onslaught.

Blade against blade, and pained howls against steel erupted throughout the battlefield. There was a point in time when Ardyn could scarcely hear the crackling roar of the fires nearby, too focused on the carnage at hand to take in how the environment was becoming hostile. Every so often, he had become burnt from debris that was being utilized as weaponry from the MedZin operatives. The pain was more than enough to keep fueling Ardyn’s anger toward his enemies.

Years of knowledge in fighting that Ardyn had under his belt from 2,000 years ago, on top of memories from the souls of the damned came to his aid while he made quick work of the intruders. He was an efficient killer, and Ardyn relished in the cold fact of the matter. The ego stroke began to awaken another beast inside himself. The scourge hummed in his body with a violent urge to consume. The sensation was so powerful, even Ardyn felt tempted to bend to its will as he approached who would be his twelfth victim.

Ardyn stabbed Rakshasa through the woman’s back, yanking her body upward in the process. She slid down the sword to where Ardyn's left palm could touch her shoulder.

“Let’s get a peek of what’s in your head!” Ardyn menacingly whispered.

A dark cloud of purples and blacks began to dance through his fingertips, and particles of light pooled from the wound he had inflicted. Little by little, Ardyn could feel the woman’s essence, her very life, become integrated with his. His whole body felt like a straw that was sucking up raw nectar, and his brain flooded with visions.

Euphoria in the kill began to sway Ardyn while he grinned, and just as he reached a precipice where the transfer was almost complete, a sudden wave of nausea hit him. He stumbled backward, pulling Raksasha out of the woman’s spine. Her body dropped to the grass, and Ardyn fell to his knees. He began to throw up. Scourge and bile desecrated the soil in front of him. Vertigo began to plague Ardyn’s peripheral soon after.

So lost in his misery, Ardyn didn’t notice a MedZin soldier taking aim for his head, having snuck up behind to take advantage of Ardyn’s moment of weakness. The soldier raised his long sword, intending to impale him until a thundering sound radiated in the air. The soldier dropped his weapon. His body collapsed, having been shot in the head from afar.

Ardyn jerked his head around. With astonishment, he observed the body at his side and gave a hesitant slap to it. When no reaction had come, he sighed in relief.

“Well played, friend. You almost had the jump on me!” Ardyn mused mockingly. He grimaced and lurched forward.

An electric shock cascaded down Ardyn’s nerves, causing his fingertips and spine to ache. His right hand instinctively reached for his neck, near the site where he had been injected all that time ago when he ransacked Outpost 98. He closed his eyes, remembering all too well what it felt like when his body short-circuited, and he lost control of himself.

Ardyn wasn’t one to feel dread, much less become scared. With 2,000 years to his name, and having been imprisoned in darkness, little could deter a creature such as himself from seeking his ends. Right now though, he’d be lying to himself if he wasn’t frightened. This wasn’t normal by any stretch. It became abundantly clear that something was wrong, but he didn’t have enough information to aid his woes.

Shouting from the distance began to grow, snapping Ardyn out of his thoughts. He squinted his eyes to get a better look at the horizon. Niflheim soldiers were coming to his aid. For now, his personal concerns needed to take a backseat.

Ardyn quickly wiped away at his mouth and internally worked on silencing the scourge. The last thing Ardyn needed, was to be discovered with his mask off. No one could know he was Adagium. It was years too soon for such a thing.

“Chancellor! Chancellor Izunia! Are you alright!?”

“You can silence your ruckus! I’m over here!” Ardyn hollered back, getting onto his feet to wave down his lessers. He coughed a few times and walked toward the large group after dismissing Rakshasa back into whatever plane of existence it dwelled within.

The commander came running up, panting heavily while he gestured for ground troops to scout the area for survivors.

“Are you hurt, sir?”

“No,” Ardyn shook his head and huffed. “At least, not in the way one would assume. I’m quite winded, however.”

“Sir, you should go back to the ship. Let us handle whoever is left. I don’t imagine there are many now,” The commander then saw the burns and winced on Ardyn’s behalf. “You need rest and to get those patched up.”

As much as he remained compelled to continue the hunt, Ardyn knew it would be foolish considering the odd symptoms at play in his body.

“I suppose I can concede this time around,” Ardyn murmured. He coughed again. “What are our losses?”

“We lost eight men thus far, and we are out of energy cores for most of our weaponry. The ship wasn’t well stocked, to begin with. As for the carrier itself, I have team ninety-nine working on repairs as we speak. From the damages, she might not be able to fly until evening tomorrow.”

Ardyn tilted his head back and sighed in defeat. “Grand of a time as any I suppose.”

“I’ve taken the liberty to notify Chief Besithia of the situation after the carriers had been shot down. He wanted me to relay a message to you to take shelter near an inn not far North. The owner is a Niflheim immigrant who will keep quiet about us being in Lucian territory. Two soldiers are to be assigned to you for protection, while the rest of us work on getting the ship back up and running. After we’ve combed through and determined the enemy is defeated, we’ll ransack their aircraft for anything that might speed up the process.”

“You talk too much and too fast,” Ardyn irately stated. He raised a brow at the commander, his gaze sizing him up.

“My apologies, I am only being thorough, sir. For everyone’s sake.”

Ardyn made a fist with his right hand until his knuckles turned white. As much as he was bothered by being commanded, he didn’t feel it quite right to take his anger out on the old man. Not when Verstael was using him as a puppet to bark orders.

“I will seek shelter at the inn at once,” Ardyn gave a half bow with his head out of respect toward the commander. “My phone will be on my person. I expect concise updates on the repairs while I recoup.”

“Yes sir, and what of your guest?”

Y/N...Ardyn froze for a moment, having nearly forgotten about them given the chaos. He made a face and waved off the concern. “They know to arrive here. When they come, give them the coordinates to the inn and I’ll take it from there. Escort them if necessary.”

“Yes sir!”

Ardyn began his descent back toward the airship. Every so often, he wiped away the sweat across his brow while deep in thought.

“They should all be dead,” Ardyn muttered to himself. He was so sure of it, that his mind had difficulty letting the truth of the matter sink in: that MedZin was after him. "Everything was destroyed. The whole facility burned to rubble. How could I overlook a mistake such as this?"

Such questions plagued Ardyn as did his thoughts about what MedZin had injected into his body the day Y/N and he attacked. Whatever the serum was, it greatly hindered his dark powers. Speaking of which, Ardyn felt depleted in a manner of speaking. The unlimited reservoir of power at his disposal was no longer tapped into. He had a limit, like any other mortal, and it both worried and angered him.

Feeding off Y/N got him somewhat back to normal, but Ardyn realistically wondered how much longer that would last. He then burdened himself with the painful truth, that he would have to confide in Verstael about the injection. Ardyn dreaded that as much as he dreaded eating cloned meat when Aldercapt ordered it for the imperials of the court. He didn’t like it one bit.

“I seem to be on a losing streak these days,” Ardyn mused with contempt, making his way to the dock to check on the Vixen to make sure her integrity wasn’t damaged.

Twenty minutes into inspection, Ardyn checked near the tailpipe of the car and raised a brow when he came upon a peculiar object. Bending down, he crouched and pulled at the flat round piece. A grimace left him, feeling the object had been stuck on there quite tightly with a paste of some sort. A few tugs later, and he had it off.

Ardyn carefully blew away the dust on the item. There were two lights at the top, blinking yellow and red, and a list of serial numbers toward the bottom. It didn’t take long before he realized it was a tracking device.

“Gods be damned,” Ardyn sneered as he broke the piece with his bare hand, putting all of his frustration into it. Once it cracked in half, he turned his head when a Niflheim soldier approached.

“Do you need help sir?”

“As a matter of fact I do,” Ardyn gestured for the soldier to have his left palm up and then placed the tracker into his possession. “Decipher any information left on this device, and report your findings.”

“You got it, Chancellor!” The soldier sounded a little too enthusiastic for Ardyn’s liking, but he applauded the boy’s efforts.

After the soldier departed to check on the ship elsewhere, Ardyn worriedly looked out the dock entrance. His eyes combed the road, leading back to Galdin Quay. A heaviness in his heart came and went, wondering if Y/N was fairing better than he was.

Coming around to the drivers side of the Vixen, Ardyn grabbed the paper bag that had the two cans of Ebony: one for himself, and one for Y/N. He then sought out his escorts for the inn.

#mending shadows #ardyn x reader #ardyn x you #ardyn x y/n #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #ffxv #ardyn ffxv #ardyn izunia #ardyn lucis caelum #ffxv fic

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amaryllis-sagitta · 7 months ago

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Kinda seems like the weight of the consequences of his actions has long exceeded his capacity to carry responsibility on his shoulders. Saving the ancient magic this, preventing the world from destruction that, Din'an'shiral spoken like it's some noble moral path, Tevinter Nights Solas tries to place himself in a spot of higher necessity and having no choice. The more bombastic the stakes that he perceives, the wider sweeps he permits himself to make. Of course he isn't a monster. The clarity that he has (but won't tell) about the causes, effects, stakes and costs has been accepted as something worthy of demise. His hubris manifests itself as some Chosen One complex. There's a morally masochist undertone to his regret, like the regret alone can not only bring some sort of absolution but also ennoble terrible deed.

I wonder if Mythal cryptically mentioning some looming universal fate on several occasions has fed into Solas's conviction of being absolved from the consequences of his terrible work. "I'm not a monster" sounds like such an attempt to absolve himself on behalf of regret and a supposed clarity of the stakes. In this context, "I am a monster" would equal a confession of personal accountability for morally immeasurable deeds.

Somewhere deep inside, the motif of hubris & nemesis might be what underlies the Solas & Mythal dynamic. Hubris represents excessive confidence, going where one should not go by divine ordinance (whether we perceive gods as mystical or political), but also: ignoring the dignity of another for self-aggrandizement. Nemesis represents retribution for hubris after the victim's cries are heard - a form of justice that is always punitive, never preventative; conversely, it requires hubris as its object of pursuit (if you wonder what was likely the nature of Mythal's "protector" status...). But it can as well represent unrelenting vengefulness that never moves on, destructive envy and the kind of scalding criticism that drags the entire person down as soon as they do something slightly wrong.

I lean towards the interpretation that this concept of moral absolution through duty, the promise that Solas's pride can totally survive his deeds without being crushed by accountability (/s) is something Mythal has taught him and keeps dangling in front of him, and if he takes a hard look inside and doubts himself while there's still time to turn back, we will see sheer devastating wrath from whatever form Mythal still exists in.

Yeah, not a fun thought at all.

Narratively, the most terrifying thing Solas says is “I am not a monster” because there are two types of monster husbands— 1) where the monster husband denies he is a monster (like the Phantom of the Opera) by saying “I am not a monster” and is then narratively punished for hubris or 2) the ones where the monster husband sees themselves as a monster and accepts that they’ll never be accepted because of it, who is then proven wrong (like Beauty and the Beast).

“I am not a monster” Solas I’m begging you not to say that particular phrase. Those particular words in that particular order. If you would please instead deride yourself and say “I am a monster” I would feel better and your trajectory would be better

Solas you can shapeshift into a giant wolf. Please.

#solas critical #mythal critical #dread wolf #fen'harel #dad #da meta

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aminiatureworld · 3 years ago

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Hiraeth

From the prompt to celebrate 900 followers.

Word Count: 1,314; Kazuha x gn!reader

It was so hard to think of Inazuma; it was so easy to remember Inazuma.

The claws of nostalgia were waiting in every budding tree in the spring, and in every golden leaf in autumn. Every breeze that brought with it a scent that was unplaceable and yet so familiar, every drop of rain that fell, unforgiving and unstoppable, every piece of slightly burnt fish cooked after a long, cold day at sea. These things were a beautiful sort of torture, keeping a memory alive, cruelly tormenting the exile with things he could no longer touch.

It was hard not to grieve, and Kazuha knew there was a great deal to grieve about. A friend gone forever, a land that had turned its back on him, friends, family, enemies, archons, people Kazuha would never meet again. Sometimes anger rose at these images; anger and spite which threatened to consume Kazuha from the inside. On those days he dreamt of plans to sneak back into Inazuma and find whatever resistance was active at the time. He would rush into battle, regardless of risk, he would find the Raiden Shogun and challenge her to a duel, he would avenge his friend’s death. Other days there would be grief, a waterfall of it. Tears, regrets, sadness, it would come rushing over the cliffs of Kazuha’s memories and then the exile would find himself wishing none of it had happened, wishing that he could’ve lived in blissful ignorance, in the land of his birth. Kazuha didn’t know which of these two mindsets was the most damaging.

It drove a wedge between him and the outside world, and Kazuha knew that. Still, it was difficult to find the energy to break that wall down, to cross the every widening gulf. What did it matter if he was alone. He was an exile after all, was that not to be his fate? Why should he continue to get hurt, continue to hide his sorrow, when he could just as much sit in the crow’s nest, the wind in his face, pretending like he was the only living person in the world. It was rather freeing to be alone after all. You could trust loneliness, it never changed after all.

So why was it then, despite all these promises, these wishes, these cynical proclamations, that people had still managed to worm their way into his heart? First it had been Beidou, that indefatigable captain who laughed despite it all and who never failed to read Kazuha, despite his cryptic poetry and his attempts to eat at the table farthest from the other sailors. Then it had been the sailors themselves, then the traveler, then the traders at whose ports Beidou did business. Slowly, surely, Kazuha began to find something to ease the longing, something to make the pain bearable.

And then he had met you.

How Kazuha loved you, loved with the sort of recklessness that only some sort of intimacy could create. You were a friend, you were more than a friend, you were something even more than that. You were the soulmate that young romantics liked to imagine right before they went to sleep, hoping their perfect half would somehow appear in their dreams. You were the person with whom Kazuha could have utter, total trust, the kind of platonic soulmate that was so few and far between. Yet his love for you also burned in different ways, as if his feelings for you couldn’t concentrate themselves in one aspect, one facet of love. Kazuha loved you utterly. Regardless of flaw, or temper, or good or bad, he loved you.

However if real love is supposed to fix every problem, then perhaps real love is simply overrated. For as much as Kazuha loved you, he could not stop the ache in his heart, the pieces of him that cried out for his homeland. Inazuma, there was always Inazuma. You never begrudged him his moments of loneliness, the fact that he couldn’t simply leave behind the only place that was his true home. You merely sat next to him, hand on his, breath tickling his hair as Kazuha leaned on your shoulder, mourning the homeland he’d surely lost.

It seemed selfish, to dwell so much on something in the past. Like he was dragging you and everyone else down, bringing something up that you surely didn’t care about that much. There were only so many platitudes a person could say after all, until it all became unbearable. Yet the days that he told himself he should no longer complain, the days that he promised to himself he’d keep it all locked away inside, you still managed to coax all the grief out of him. If Kazuha was unfailing in his longing, then you were unfailing in your kindness, your determination to listen, to tell him that he wasn’t being a nuisance. And slowly, things began to feel a little better.

The first time you had to go on a trip for a long period of time was a shock to Kazuha’s system. Who knew that something that looked so close on a map could be so far away? Mondstadt, as much as it shared a land border with Liyue, felt as far away as the moon. Every day was a trial, every night desolate. He missed your presence, your smiles, your warmth, your even breath as the two of you drifted off to sleep together. Kazuha hadn’t expected this to happen, and for two weeks he waited in bated breath, his every thought consumed by your absence, by the strange feeling of having an integral part of one’s life missing. He wondered if you felt the same way, if you lay awake at night in a Mondstadt in, wishing that he were besides you. He wondered if you needed him as much as he needed you.

The day that you came back Kazuha spent in tears. They started the moment your silhouette was spotted on the docks, mixing with the surprised embarrassment, the wonder of whether it was too much to run to greet you. It was as if he was newly in love again, and Kazuha didn’t know whether he relished the feeling or whether it made him uncomfortable. Ultimately he met you halfway, walking slowly, a dopey smile plastered on his face.

“Welcome back,” he declared. Then there was an embrace that no one could sure of who initiated, as the world fell into place again.

“I realized something while you were gone,” he revealed. It was the evening now, and the two of you were cuddling together in bed, relishing the feeling of limbs once more entangled.

“What is that?” There was something in your voice, a sort of excitement that hadn’t faded throughout the entire day.

“I realized that Inazuma isn’t the only place that I long for.”

“Oh?”

“When you were gone, it was like I was grieving two homes. The home that was long gone, and the home that I had just found.”

“That’s very poetic,” you giggled softly. Kazuha could sense the slight shift in your expression, as you continued. “But funnily enough. I also felt that way. I knew you were important to me darling, but I didn’t realize how important.”

“Despite all my, complaining? Despite how self-centered I can be sometimes?”

“Grief isn’t self-centered Kazuha. And you aren’t complaining by talking about it. I’d rather you cry in front of me every day than keep it to yourself. Okay?”

“Are you sure?” Kazuha couldn’t help the question.

“Of course I’m sure! Believe me, I know my feelings about you very well.”

“And they are?” Slowly the confidence, the candidness that Kazuha felt around you was coming back.

“Love, of course.” You leaned over towards Kazuha, kissing his gently on the lips.

There was very little conversation after that for a while.

#genshin impact #kazuha x reader #kazuha #genshin impact fanfiction #900 prompt game #my writing

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queenof3ferrets · 11 months ago

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The people have spoken.

The poll has now closed.

Riddle has been deemed lawyer.

You have sealed Riddle’s fate. Will I tell you how? No.

>:)

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst riddle #riddle twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #disney twst #totally not being cryptic about his fate #definitely not #>:)#hehehe #evil laughter

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 4 years ago

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It's Delicate: Part II

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author’s Note: Here's the second part in It's Delicate, my first chapter fic. I've planned out kind of where I see this eventually going! Thank you to anyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs. It really means the world to me.

Content Warnings: Expletive language (3 uses), mentions of drug use, sexual innuendo

READ PART I

It's Delicate Masterlist

It's Delicate

Sitting on the plane, Spencer looks out from the little window. For hours, there’s been nothing but corn fields and clouds. It’s eerily peaceful, being there high above the clouds. His whole life Spencer has felt this distance between him and everyone else, but nothing makes that feeling more prominent than being strapped in a glorified metal box 35,000 feet off the Earth’s surface. But the thing is, Spencer does need to be flying above the trees to feel lonely. He can do that with two feet on the ground.

Luke sits across Spencer, the table between them and a deck of playing cards are spread out across its surface. He has to nudge Spencer’s leg from under the table, trying to bring him back to reality as he stares out the window.

“Whatcha thinking,” Luke asks, Spencer has been noticing more and more that Luke is one of the few people that actually listens to him.

Spencer, whose mind is racing too fast to even formulate an articulate thought, attempts to dodge Luke’s question with a noncommittal shrug.

“Reid, these cases are hard for all of us, you gotta know that man,” Luke says, laying down a four of a kind.

Spencer narrows his eyes, shocked that it hasn’t clicked yet for the rest of the team. He cracks his neck, preparing to answer Luke.

“We almost locked up an innocent man, Alvez. I almost sent another man to the same fate as myself. What kind of fucked up message is that?” Spencer says, throwing down the cards on the table. He doesn’t wait for Luke to respond.

“I fold,”

Spencer walks off into the small kitchenette to make a cup of coffee. He doesn’t want to think about his increased reliance on coffee, because he knows it’s a hot cup of coffee or a cold needle of Dilaudid in his veins. Spencer checks his watch, it’s 10:17 pm, maybe too late to find a meeting at a church or rec center somewhere.

He sneaks a peak at his phone, which was still unfortunately on Airplane Mode, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to see if Y/N has responded. He doesn’t know much about her, just as much as she knows about him.

It’s a brave new world for Spencer and he’s knee deep into the unknown.

Spencer can feel Luke’s eyes on him. He just knows that the minute he gets home, a certain tech expert will be ringing him. He knows that it’s Luke’s way of caring, but for someone who’s been alone for so long, having people that actually care is almost drowning.

Walking back to his seat, Spencer hands Luke a coffee. He smiles slightly; it’s the awkward smile that he used to make when intimating police chiefs and idiot cops would look him up and down like he’s a TA. It’s a peace offering for Luke, who despite his tough looking exterior, is one of the kindest people Spencer knows.

“Look, Reid. I’m sorry that we didn’t put it together. It’s just that man that we caught, he’s not like you. He’s not innocent of crimes, he’s just innocent of this crime,” Luke says in an attempt to make Spencer feel a little bit better.

“The thing is Luke, I’m exactly like that man,”

Spencer returns to staring out the window. The cards and the coffee on the table are long ignored for the silence that is found when you’re high above the clouds.

Spencer hears Tara and Emily murmur quietly about going out for a round of drinks. Luke accepts, while JJ and Matt decline, eager to get home to their families. Emily looks over at Spencer, her eyes silently scanning him, his body language. Spencer knows that there’s nothing he can hide from Emily, so there’s no use in trying to pretend he’s alright when she can take one look at him and know that nothing is right.

“You guys have fun, I’m going to head home and get some sleep. I plan on visiting my mom tomorrow and mornings are usually better for her,” Spencer says, slinging his go bag around his shoulders and making the trek back to the security to check out.

He walks slowly, enjoying the sound of the crickets chirping as he trudges along. Spencer tries not to think about the man, Richard, who was almost locked up for a crime that he didn’t commit. Spencer is pretty sure that being the person to throw an innocent man in jail is worse than being the innocent man in jail.

Spencer’s phone buzzes loudly, disturbing the silence of his walk. He looks at the phone to see a couple of messages from Y/N. Spencer slides open the lock to his phone and hits the button to read her messages.

Y/N: Spencer...that has a nice ring to it. So tell me a little bit about yourself. Your big three, but as books. Go! 🌞🌙⬆️

Furrowing his brow, Spencer reads the message over again. He does not have a clue what “big three” means, but it seems like some sort of pop culture thing that he’s not skilled in. He wants to text Garcia for a translation, but he’s also not too keen on telling her how he came across Y/N’s number.

Y/N: I assume you’re working, but I'm kind of impatient so I’ll give you mine 🙃 I’m a Little Women sun, an Emma moon, and an In Cold Blood rising.

Y/N: Oh no….I hope my astrology didn’t turn you off

Y/N: Not that I was trying to turn you on

Y/N: omg Y/N please shut the fuck up

Astrology? Spencer isn’t one to judge, but he’s a scientist first and foremost. The idea that there is something written about him in the stars seems like ludicrous. He decided to ignore the other messages, particularly the ones with a little more than slight innuendo.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m sorry I just got out of work. As for my big three, I’m not sure about astrology. I don’t particularly believe in pseudoscience. But those are good choices. In Cold Blood is an excellent choice. Capote spent years researching the case. In fact his prose and technique inspired the entire “Nonfiction novel” genre. The world of journalism and true crime would not be where it is without Capote’s work.

Y/N: Oh my god. You are a total nerd. 🙀

That stops Spencer right in his tracks. He’s only a couple of yards away from the Volvo at this point, but somehow it feels a million miles away. You are a total nerd. The words replay in his mind as the small gray bubbles pop up again. Spencer can feel his heart constrict at Y/N’s words. It’s ridiculous, he’s nearly 34 and is getting upset that a stranger called him a nerd. Spencer unlocks his car and tosses his go bag, phone included onto the passenger seat.

After a couple of minutes his phone buzzes again. He’s half tempted to answer it, but the way his heart seems to beat faster tells him to ignore it.

Y/N: I fucking love it and I think you’ll love this too

Spencer’s entire demeanor changes as he reads the message. He’s always had difficulties reading emotion in writing, especially when he can’t analyze the handwriting. Sometimes, it’s even harder to judge inflection during conversations. Maybe that is why Spencer has spent all this time studying people, studying the way that their minds work. Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, another message pops up.

Y/N: Meet Capote and Second Cat

Y/N: They are the loves of my life

Spencer: They are very...distinguished looking. Capote is an excellent name choice then. Second Cat is also quite catchy.

Spencer hesitates before sending the message, he notices that Y/N uses what Garcia calls “emojis” quite frequently. He assumes that it’s some sort of “texting lingo” that expresses emotion in small graphics. Great, he thinks. He already has a difficult time deciphering Y/N’s cryptic wording and now he’s got to analyze these emojis.

Maybe he should profile her. He re-reads the message and settles on a “😄” because he figures that he can’t go wrong with offering Y/N a smile.

Spencer: I don’t have a cat, but when I was a kid I always wanted one, they’re quite good companions for those that live several different kinds of lifestyles. From active to sedentary, they are adaptable and independent. Honestly they are the perfect pet.

Y/N: Is this your way of telling you’re a crazy cat man? 😜 🙀

Spencer, still sitting in his car that’s parked in the parking lot, chuckles at Y/N’s response to his message. Maybe it’s just easier to ignore his rambling when it’s done through 1s and 0s and there isn’t a face to the words.

Spencer: I’m actually more of a fish guy

Y/N: Like a “I-like-to-go-fishing-and-post-picture-of-myself-kissing-my-catch-on-Tinder” kind of fish guy or...I can’t think of any other kind of fish men

Spencer, not totally understanding the obvious joke that Y/N is trying to make, settles on something that he hasn’t really ever tried: being himself.

Spencer: Not quite sure what a Tinder is, but I think fishing is terrifying and kissing a fish is something out of nightmares. But his name is Leo

Y/N: DiCaprio?

Spencer: Uhh, Tolstoy

Y/N: Good😉 ⚔️🕊️ 🇷🇺

Spencer glances at his clock on the control panel, it tells him that he’s been messaging with Y/N back and forth for nearly 22 minutes. He nearly forgot how tired he was.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m so sorry but, I just got to my car to drive home from work. I’ll text you tomorrow morning about the book club, maybe we can figure out some things.

Y/N: OMG Spencer!! you should have told me. I’ve been talking ur ear off. sleep well and yes please tomorrow we can talk about the book club

Y/N: Good night, Book Buddy 😴

Spencer wants to respond to Y/N, but he doesn’t know what to say. She seems to text so easily, and judging by that, she must be around Spencer’s age or a little bit younger. Besides JJ and Penelope, Spencer has never had a friend close to his age. It’s a strange new territory for him and he’s walking in head first into No Man’s Land.

He starts his Volvo, the check engine still lights but, reminding him once again to go get it fixed. Driving away from the parking lot, Spencer hands over his ID to Gina, the security guard. She checks his ID and gives him a tired smile. Spencer, as he drives home to his apartment, thinking about what books he and Y/N will read together. He wonders what kind of books are her favorite, if they have any authors that they can obsess over together, or if what she thinks a poet’s prose is.

The summer air rushing in through the window is nowhere as warm and as comforting as thought of Spencer finally having a friend that isn’t able to read the scars of his past in the text bubbles that pop up on her screen.

When Spencer opens his eyes for the first time that morning, he isn’t sure where he is. Sometimes, before he can stop his thoughts from travelling there, Spencer thinks he’s still in jail. He hates the feeling of terror that rushes over him but he hates the idea of being vulnerable a little bit more. But the softness of his pillows and the coolness of his cotton sheets remind him that he’s not sleeping on a hard cot with only a layer of fabric over his body. The light streams in through the half closed blinds, and Spencer judges by how brightly the sun shines in, it must be around 9:45 am.

He supposes that he prefers the way the sun’s rays paint horizontal bars across his face more than the vertical bars that cast gray shadows over his cell at Milburn Penitentiary.

It’s a day off from work, so Spencer didn’t set an alarm, instead allowing his mind and his body to catch up on some much needed rest. The nightmares have been getting better, but his dreams are still haunted by the way that he hardly recognizes himself anymore. Deciding that it will be a day spent in pajamas, Spencer goes to his bookshelf in his bedroom to pick out a couple of novels to read while he drinks his morning coffee and defrosts some of Luke’s strawberry pastries.

Before heading out of his room, Spencer stops himself in the doorway. He replays the events of last night. He declined to go out with the rest of the team, while he walked to his car he thought about the crickets telling the temperature, and he read over Y/N’s messages.

Y/N.

He promised he’d text her back in the morning about their book club. Last night, she didn’t seem to mind Spencer’s long messages and awkward phrasing. He still doesn’t really know how this Book Buddy thing would work, but since he found Y/N’s number on the flyer, he can only assume that she knows what to do. He leaps on his bed, landing with thud on his belly, to grab his phone that charges on his nightstand.

Spencer settles at his kitchen table, a cup of steaming hot Dark Roast coffee in a Captain Spock mug in one hand and, surprisingly, his phone in the other. He scrolls through the messages from last night, Y/N’s cat and emojis tempt a smile to Spencer’s face.

Not entirely sure how to start the conversation again, Spencer looks around for inspiration until his eyes land on a certain fish tank in the corner of his apartment. He snaps a quick picture of Leo and attaches it to the message.

Spencer: Good Morning from Leo & Spencer

Spencer sets down his phone after a moment when he realizes that Y/N is probably not going to answer him back in a couple of seconds. He takes out a strawberry pastry from his freezer and puts it into the toaster oven on a non-stick baking sheet. His thumbs run across the texture of the book he started on the plane ride after his and Luke’s ill fated poker game. It's a thin book of collected essays on the meaning of life. Camus, to Spencer, is a little pessimistic with his droning on about the meaninglessness of life. Though Spence has seen the absolute worst that humanity has to offer, he still has to believe that there’s a deeper meaning behind it all.

His toaster oven rings, altering him so that his toasted strawberry pastry is cooked. He plates his breakfast and pours himself another cup of coffee- he’ll need it to get through Camus’s section on Absurdism this early in the morning. But the flash of Spencer’s phone screen sends him reaching for his phone. Y/N replied to his message.

Y/N: hi leo!!!

Y/N: and you too Spencer :) Did you get a good night’s sleep. You got back late it seems.

Spencer, taking a bite of the strawberry pastry, ignores the burning sensation in his mouth. He types out a response to Y/N as he washes down the bite with a swing of coffee.

Spencer: I did, thank you. Can you tell me a little bit more about this book buddy thing. From what I gathered from the flyer it’s like a little book club of our own and we meet at the bookstore?

It doesn’t take long for Y/N to respond. The little gray dots pop up almost immediately after Spencer’s message is delivered.

Y/N: That’s about right! Is it okay if I call you? Kinda easier to talk that way 🤷‍♀️

Spencer reads over the message a couple of times. He doesn’t really like to talk on the phone and only does it out of necessity. He’s pretty sure that his voice is grating and his vocal fry is quite irritating. Yet, he finds himself replying “yes” to Y/N. Soon enough, his phone buzzes in his hand and Spencer has to remind himself how to pick up a call.

“Spencer? Um, this is Spencer Reid, right?” the voice says. It’s a woman’s voice and he can only assume that it’s Y/N, considering it is her phone number calling him.

“Y/N, uh hi. This is Dr. Spencer- I mean this is Spencer,” he says, nearly forgetting that Y/N doesn’t know him as Dr. Reid, but as just Spencer. It’s been a long time since someone has known him as Spencer.

“Oh great! It’s wonderful to finally have a voice to your name. So about these buddy reads. You seem to have a good grasp of what they are,” Y/N’s voice trails off a little bit at the end and Spencer finds it natural to fill in the silence.

“Yes, the flyer was quite informative. But I was wondering, do we read the same books or do we read different books?” Spencer asks, trying to restrain himself from scaring Y/N off. But something about her made him think that she didn’t scare easily.

Y/N chuckles lightly in the speaker of her phone, “that’s a good question, uh, I was actually going to ask you what you would rather. We can read the same books, or if it’s okay with you we can choose what the other would read for that week,”

“Oh really?” Spencer says, very much aware how his voice rises a couple of octaves. He can’t trust himself to hold back on rambling over the phone Y/N, so he resorts to using his strained, brittle voice that’s full of hesitation and restraint.

“That’s the plan, so whatcha thinking, Spencer,” Y/N says playfully, like she can sense that phone conversations maybe not make him feel at ease. There’s something so natural and silvery about her voice; it reminds Spencer of an audiobook reader. While he’s not too keen on audiobooks, he’s sure that he’d listen to anything she reads or has to say.

“Um, I think it sounds interesting to pick out books for each other. I tend to gravitate towards more technical books or even books that aren’t in English so, uh, I think it would be interesting to get out of my comfort zone,” Spencer says, cringing internally at using the word “interesting” twice in a couple of sentences.

“Well, as long as you don’t pick out something in physics or anything by Ayn Rand then I’d say we’re good,” Y/N says. Spencer thinks it’s a joke, but he’s not too sure how to respond.

“Will you still be my Book Buddy if I read 1 out of 2 of those?” Spencer asks, hoping she’d get that he is trying to continue the joke.

“Oh no Spencer please don’t tell me you’re an Ayn Rand fanboy,” she says, and by the airy way she laughs, Spencer ventures to guess his joke landed successfully.

“So,” Spencer starts, he never has made plans with people outside of his team, and on top of that, there’s something about Y/N’s quickness that makes him a little nervous to meet her.

“I’m talking your ear off, aren’t I? Please Spencer, if you’re going to be my Book Buddy, you’re going to have to get used to me talking a lot, especially you pick out good books, which, I already have a feeling you’re going to be favorite Book Buddy,”

For once in his life, Spencer doesn’t really know how to respond. He lets out something in between a strangled laughter and a noncommittal chuckle.

“So,” Y/N says, mirroring Spencer’s earlier words, “so are you free tonight, I can meet you at the bookstore..”

Y/N’s voice trails off and Spencer leaps to finish her sentences. It doesn’t feel like his interjecting or interrupting, but like he’s snapping a puzzle piece together.

“Does 7 work?” “7 is great, Spencer. It’s a date,”

Those three little words send Spencer’s eyes flying wide open. He scrambles to come up with answer to louden the silence that falls, but he swears he can hear a string of quiet curses before Y/N manages to squeak out a small “goodbye,”

Y/N’s last words play back in Spencer’s ears. He scolds himself for being so weird and awkward that the very idea of going on a date with him would send Y/N in a tizzy. It’s not a date, because Spencer can’t think about it being a date. It’s not a date because of the looming photo above his mantle that freezes his future in the past. It’s not a date because of the nightmare of vertical bars that haunt his dreams

It’s not a date. It’s so not a date because Spencer would call Luke to come over to help him if it was.

“Hey Luke,” Spencer says, trying to control the nervous waves in his voice, “no man, I’m fine, it’s uh, easier if you just come over. I’m fine, really,”

Y/N: I really hope you're not an Ayn Rand fanboy 😉

It’s so not a date.

--THANK YOU FOR READING--

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #reid fanfiction

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modernchemical · 2 years ago

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@dimitrifan36 @realstrawssy

okay so if you are unfamiliar with the plot of wonderfalls it is about a disenfranchised 20-something named jaye tyler who works retail at a gift store in niagara falls and one day inanimate objects who have animal forms or animal faces (like a small wax lion, or lawn flamingoes, or a cow creamer) begin to talk to her and actually move their faces and speak out loud to her and her only. theyre super vague and tell her cryptic instructions that always end up helping someone else or like turning around a strangers life.

ex: a woman comes in and demands a refund, little wax lion tells jaye not to give her a her money back, jaye does anyway and then the woman's purse is immediately stolen. the next day jaye sees a person throwing a coin into a fountain and the lion says "find a penny, pick it up", so jaye goes to get the coin and it rolls into someones lunch bag, which they then throw away, so she goes to take it out of the trash and finds the womans purse in the bin.

anyway to the au part:

so very obviously jaye is going to be dirk. i was going to do rose but rose isnt jaded enough and the whole point of the show is the reluctance to help fellow man and rose cares too much. so dirk. (NOTE: dirk is actually extremely helpful and kind as a person but he also has trepidations about affection. and struggles to see things in grand scheme. so there 🫵)

i probably wont keep the setting of niagara falls because its not actually that important so itll probably be in some nebulous american city where dirk will do some boring job he hates. apple genius bar or a tech repair store or smth.

so im gonna keep the animals talking thing. because its so cool. but ill probably extend it to humanoid inanimate objects as well. i also think it would be cool if all the voices coming from the object are Dirk's voice, as to kind of tie in the li'l hal and or splinters thing. instead of having the world and people around jaye making her help people and learn friendship lessons n all that, its aspects of dirks self. in the process dirk learns about how he sabotages himself and forces himself to put on a front when he really cares about people and wants to help his friends.

so for the other characters:

eric who is the love interest would be jake of course. erics thing is that he was married but on his wedding day saw his wife cheating on him so he left and started working and living at a bar that jaye frequents. he really wants to escape his past and tries to reinvent himself but is constantly brought back to his past. hes also "mildly autistic" (real line) (hes just regular autistic) and is sort of dorky and believes in love and fate and all that.

mahandra who is jayes best friend doesnt have a lot going on character wise but she sort of enables jayes lifestyle so shes roxy duh. mahandra is basically a more spiteful and more driven jaye who actually has her life together. this scene is so dirk and roxy. https://youtu.be/CMYzWo9S01o (warning for general 2004iness)

additionally mahandra starts a secret relationship with jaye's brother aaron who i am going to give to jane. aaron is an agnostic comparative religion student who lives w his (and jayes) parents. hes a skeptic and becomes obsessed with jaye's weirdness and her relationship with the inanimate objects and stuff- so jane sort of becomes obsessed with trying to figure out why dirk is being weird, but then starts totally having an existential crisis as she tries to detective on her own friend (in this dirk <> jane is real)

there are one million characters and plotlines even though the show got cancelled only after 4 episodes and the other 9 episodes were released on dvd but these are my main ideas. pls look up this show its really heartwarming and fantastic and its ALL ON YOUTUBE IN RLLY BAD QUALITY BUT FREE!!! PLEASE WATCH THIS SHOW!!!! dirk learns the power of fate and love and friendship and greater powers and also the lack of greater powers and also that maybe all he needed to do ever was pay attention to the world around him and help his friends.

ok the end

does anyone in the entire world want to hear about my homestuck wonderfalls au. does anyone care for 2004 cancelled fox tv show and 2009 webthing kissing in an alley.

#homestuck #wonderfalls #dirk strider #wonderfalls au #long post

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floralseokjin · 4 years ago

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⤑ made-up love song drabbles

Seokjin tells his therapist he might have a little crush on you

kim seokjin x reader warnings; this drabble takes place during a therapy session but it entails a light hearted conversation words; 1,773 words

↪︎ read the series here / and drabbles here

“It definitely seems like a crush, Seokjin,” Mrs. Shin nodded, the slightest of smiles lifting her lips as she looked across at him, her glasses perched a little way down the bridge of her nose. She was teasing him. He knew her well enough by now. He’d been having a session a week for the past three years.

Admittedly at first he’d been sceptical. It was policy at the company. With such a stressful and demanding position he needed to have someone on hand to talk to regularly, just in case it all became too much, so he was unable to turn it down even if he had wanted to at first. He’d never been one for talking about his feelings, choosing to deal with them himself. He wasn’t a fan of sharing, not wanting to be a burden or risk unloading his troubles onto someone who didn’t really want to hear it but didn’t have the heart to tell him. He was still like that now in ways, but he figured this was Mrs. Shin’s – Chaewon’s – job, so she had to have a passion for it, right? Helping people…

And helped him she had. He didn’t know where he’d be if it wasn’t for her. She’d been there for him tremendously over the years, especially with his divorce and the strains of being apart from Arin. He was a busy man so these visits couldn’t be in person most of the time, usually done over phone call, sometimes video, but today he’d felt like getting out of the office. Taking a long lunch to confess something he hadn’t even had the balls to tell Namjoon, his best friend of twenty years.

See, the thing was, he had found himself in a bind. It had been two weeks since he’d backed out into your car. Two weeks since he’d embarrassingly taken it upon himself to take said car and pay his mechanic to fix the damage. Two weeks since he’d last seen you, waving you off at the subway station he’d driven you to, and two weeks since he’d been unable to stop thinking about you. He had it bad, and he had no idea if he was deluding himself or not. I might have a little crush, had been his opening line, and it made him want the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

He groaned quite loudly (definitely dramatically), throwing his head back. “But it sounds so juvenile.”

He wasn’t in high school. He was a near forty year old man, with a child. Crushes were for teenagers. In fact, the last time he’d had one he’d been in 9th grade. Moon Dabin, the daughter of one of his father’s friends. It hadn’t ended well, his feelings left unrequited which he feared was happening this time around too. Not that they were feelings per se. That would be foolish. He didn’t even know you properly. This was just an… attraction?

“Well, what else would you call it?” Chaewon chuckled, now not even bothering to try and hide her amusement.

“I have no idea.” He admitted. “I’m just…” he trailed off, feeling like an idiot having to say the words aloud. “I’m just very attracted to her, and I feel this sense of…” – another pause as he tried to think of the correct word – “admiration towards her?”

That didn’t seem right, or it sounded weird, something like that. You were dedicated to your job. The parent teacher meeting had made it obvious just how much you loved teaching. You also had this… tenacity about you. You were feisty, scrappy. He felt out of his depth around you, but oddly relaxed at the same time. He respected you. Not that he didn’t respect everyone, but well – God, what was going on with him? He liked you. It was plain and simple. It didn’t matter if you were virtually a stranger.

“I just like her.”

“What do you like about her?” Chaewon pressed, smiling innocently. “You know, other than her face.”

Seokjin shook his head with a slight chuckle. “She just has this way about her.” You made him laugh. You made him awkward. You made him flirty, as embarrassing as that was to admit. “I mean, I’ve seen her a grand total of three times but each time has been…fun.”

The older woman in front of him raised an eyebrow. “Fun?”

“Different.” He explained with a nod. “There was something there, possibly.” He didn’t want to delude himself after all. “I think we built up some kind of rapport.”

“You mean you were flirting.”

“Possibly.” That word again. “I mean, it’s been a long time since I tried, so I may have been doing it very wrong.”

Chaewon stifled a laugh as she shrugged. “Well, if she was flirting back.”

“I don’t know if she was.” He replied unsurely. “She was kind of annoyed at me, because I wouldn’t let her pay me back for the car but I think it was in a playful way.” He paused, thinking some more. “She let me give her a ride to the subway so she can’t think I’m that bad, right?”

Chaewon hummed in consideration. “Maybe it beat getting lost.” The look of horror on his face made her laugh. “I’m just kidding, Seokjin.” She didn’t give him time to reply, lacing her fingers together as she viewed him. “I say, why don’t you ask her out for dinner.”

“D-dinner?” He more of less spluttered, his shirt collar now feeling dangerously tight against his neck. “Like some kind of date?”

“Mm hm.”

He shook his head, “I can’t.” He was adamant. “It just seems… I’m not – I haven’t dated in a while, and besides, she’s Arin’s teacher.” It would be completely unprofessional. He couldn’t.

“Not for long though, right?”

Seokjin pursed his lips. “Correct.” Damn him for being too easy with the information he’d already handed out. Chaewon had been pushing him to date for the longest time. She was loving this, the chance perfect.

“I’m too busy.” He insisted, but he knew it was an excuse. “What with work and Arin living with me now. It’s just not very plausible.”

“I’m sure you can make time for one little date. Unless…” Chaewon paused to look at him pointedly, “you’re holding out for more?”

“No!” His exclamation was loud. “I just… If things – Never mind,” he ended with a groan, flustered now. His face felt hot. His ears too.

Chaewon sighed gently. “Seokjin, you deserve some time for yourself too. I think dating will do you some good.”

There she went again.

“It’s been what, two years?” Seokjin answered her question with a nod, knowing what she was alluding to. “Don’t you think it’s time to put yourself out there?”

He hesitated. Deep down he knew she was talking sense. While not exactly minding the fact he was single, a companionship sounded nice. A romantic one at that. But who would want a divorced father? He wasn’t exactly a catch now was he?

“What could go wrong?” Chaewon prompted, sensing his reluctance.

“What if she’s married?”

He may or may not have already looked for a ring that Saturday afternoon you’d dropped off his car… Was that a strange thing to do? He hadn’t seen one, but that didn’t mean anything.

“Then she’ll simply tell you that and you’ll have to get over your little crush.”

If you were married, he’d feel like such a fool getting his hopes up like this, and if you weren’t, chances were you were already in a relationship. “What if she’s not interested in going for dinner?” He figured they were valid concerns. He hadn’t asked out a woman in near a decade, and even then it wasn’t comparable because he had known Nana was interested already.

“Again, she’ll let you know,” Chaewon smiled.

“Do you think she might be interested?” The thought of getting turned down would not only dent his ego, but he’d be extremely disappointed too. He really did like you. Maybe getting another woman’s perspective would do him good. “You know, from what I’ve told you,” he added.

Chaewon’s smile grew, gaze casting downwards as she began to tease him. “Well, with the rapport you’ve built up, and the way she was annoyed at you but playfully, then maybe.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, rubbing his fingers back and forth along his jaw. “Shit, you’re setting me up for failure.”

“I don’t think I am,” she said, shaking her head to turn serious. “From what you’ve told me, and granted she’s single, I think you’re in with a fighting chance.”

Seokjin liked the sound of that. “So you don’t think she’s still holding a grudge against me?”

“For what, stealing her car?”

“If you want to call it that.” He didn’t even try to fight it today. He already knew Chaewon’s views on the matter. She’d been appalled to find out that he’d just gotten his mechanic to tow away your car like that. Of course, he understood his mistake now, but back then he was blindsided, hellbent on sorting out the mess he’d caused.

“I guess possibly she can hold a grudge and be attracted to you at the same time,” Chaewon replied almost cryptically, but Seokjin was too distracted by the latter half. He hoped you were attracted to him, just as much as he was attracted to you.

“That reminds me,” Chaewon clapped her hands suddenly, gaining his attention back. “We should probably use some of this session to go over that impulsiveness you sometimes struggle with.”

Psychoanalysing himself did not sound like fun right now. Not when he had to make a decision about asking you out for dinner or not. Maybe he needed that impulsiveness right now…

“However, from the look on your face, I see you want to keep talking about Y/N.”

The sound of your name made him grin. It was such a pretty name, suited you well. Maybe he could do this. Date. It didn’t have to be a big deal. It didn’t have to be scary.

“Chaewon, do you think I’m ready to start dating?” He asked in all seriousness, as if he didn’t know her answer.

“I have been saying it for months now, yes,” his therapist nodded, but her voice was gentle. She understood his hesitance, she knew him very well.

“Right,” he murmured, lowering his head feeling a little bashful.

“So,” she nudged softly, “you better hurry, or you’ll be all out of chances. You did say the summer fate is tomorrow, didn’t you?”

Shit. He definitely told her too much.

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #fic:mls #floralseokjin:writings

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 4 years ago

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Dream SMP Recap (January 24/2021) - The Eggpire Makes Its Move

Today is the day of the Egg!

Fundy returns and theorizes a possible connection between the Crimson and Dreamons, the Eggpire exposes Tommy to the Crimson for the first time, and Sam runs into a bit of trouble at the end.

Meanwhile, Puffy is caught in the middle of everything, wondering what she’s to do about all of this.

Also, Tales From the SMP continued with a new episode set in the far future!

As usual, a short summary of the week’s total events is at the end of this post.

---

- HBomb hosts Badboyhalo and Captain Puffy’s episode of L’Cast!

- Fundy comes online after a short break! He is intensely confused by everything, especially the Blood Vines.

- Fundy speaks with Puffy, who starts filling him in on what’s going on with the Egg.

- Fundy goes around graffitiing the Eggpire propaganda like Ranboo did.

- Puffy leads Fundy to Church Prime to get hazmat suits to visit the Egg.

- They go down to the spider spawner. Fundy starts hearing Ranboo screaming. Tubbo has learned how to weaponize Catmaid HBomb against him.

- Puffy shows Fundy the Egg. A new Egg has appeared on top of the first one...

- Fundy realizes that he recognizes the room. Back in the second Dreamon Hunter stream, where they recruited Sapnap, he’d told Badboyhalo to dig out the room for a Dreamon Hunter base.

Tubbo didn’t think Bad should be involved, though, so they ended up leaving him out of it to continue digging the room anyway.

Fundy suspects the Egg...May be connected to a Dreamon taking advantage of Bad.

- Puffy shows him the Eggpire meeting place. Fundy thinks that Bad has gone bad.

- Ranboo comes by and Fundy and Puffy try to get his attention, but he doesn’t seem to notice them. He just keeps walking, picking up grass blocks and placing them elsewhere. Both of them are surprised.

- Puffy makes eye contact with him and suddenly she can’t move. Ranboo then disappears.

- Fundy starts creating a conspiracy cork board in the museum trying to figure out how everything that’s been going on could connect, from Ranboo to Badboyhalo to Dream in the prison to Glatt, Phil...everything.

- Puffy fills Fundy in on what he missed in the Finale. Fundy is shocked to learn of Schlatt’s book and Dream losing two lives.

Puffy tells Fundy that Dream’s now stuck in the prison.

- Fundy gives his hypothesis on how everything connects.

Dream cheating on Fundy is connected to Schlatt is connected to George not logging on which is connected to the nukes which are connected to Charlie which is connected to red which is connected to the Egg and BBH.

Red is the key.

And red + blue = green, which is why Dream is involved!

And Techno?

THIS IS THE POTATO WAR SEQUEL.

IT’S BEEN THE POTATO WAR THIS ENTIRE TIME.

- Fundy makes a BBH diss track.

- Tommy comes online. For some reason, where are a bunch of random grass blocks clogging up his room.

- Tommy goes to Sam Nook, who informs him about the red Egg and its danger to his construction plans.

- Fundy confronts Tommy as well and tells him about the red that’s been spreading around.

- Tommy finds Antfrost at the mansion. His eyes have gone pink.

- They speak. Antfrost tells Tommy about the Eggpire and asks if he would like to join.

- Bad comes over without his disguise on. Tommy notices it and he quickly puts on the disguise.

- Tommy asks Bad about the Egg, who also says it’s very great.

- Antfrost repeatedly speaks in Standard Galactic, sending cryptic messages about the Egg and Tommy’s fate being sealed.

- The Eggpire members attempt to bring Tommy under the influence of the Crimson by exposing him to the Egg’s effects in the Egg chamber. Though the Crimson upsets Tubbo greatly, Tommy is left unaffected by it, meaning he is like Punz and Sam and possibly resistant to its effects.

He doesn’t hate it nor love it, but is simply neutral.

- Sam Nook comes to the rescue and Tommy and Tubbo escape the Eggpire before long.

- Sam Nook orders Tommy to destroy the Reverse Coaster before he can continue with the construction of the hotel.

- Ranboo and Techno go exploring together. Ranboo uses his newfound powers to get a spawner and some cake.

---

It’s time for Tales From the SMP: “The Lost City of Mizu!”

Four average fishermen, hundreds of years in the future, who have heard the events of present-day SMP as folklore, stumble across some evidence that leads them to believe these old stories may be real...

---

The Cast:

Karl’s character’s name is Isaac.

Dream’s character’s name is Ranbob.

Bad is Benjamin.

Ranboo is Charles.

Quackity is Cletus.

---

- There’s a book left at their front door, telling them of stories that have been passed down from generation to generation.

There’s a lost underwater city that could hold information about the history of this world.

Signed,

- They hop into boats to travel to the coordinates.

- They reach the Lost City. There’s a welcome book there that speaks of the “Great Disc Wars” of the past.

- They find a strange man in the underwater city who comes to greet them.

- Ranbob tells them about how he’s been so lonely down here alone.

- He leads them to the Community Room. There’s a hallway that leads to a locked door, and Ranbob doesn’t know where the key is.

- Ranbob shows them the Cafeteria. He’s been stuck down there so long, his memory isn’t very good.

- There’s a room with a mural full of George portraits. Ranbob tells them the tale of George: greatest king to ever rule during the Disc Wars. The longest-reigning king over the SMP, as proven by the pictures found all over the ancient area.

Eret was the tyrant who tried to take over with an iron fist, killing George.

- There’s another chamber dedicated to a man named Ranboo. Ranbob is a descendant of Ranboo on his mother’s side, and his ancestors were the Book-keepers. The people with the best memories who wrote down the history books to know what happened. Ranboo was the greatest of scholars, a writer who documented everything. His memory was supreme.

- Isaac finds a key to Sapnap’s room, the room of the great warrior.

- Sapnap was a brute with a love of pets who started the great Pet War over his defense of them. There’s a historic axe reminiscent of the ones used to cut down Ponk’s Great Tree. He apparently had many wives.

- They find an abandoned farm. Someone poisoned the soil long ago.

- The people of Mizu held a Council meeting on their decreasing food supply.

- Bob leads them to the power room.

- Next, they enter the room of Fundy. The residents of Mizu were unsure if Fundy was a pet or a person. Perhaps Tommy’s pet?

- They find a key to the Quackity room.

- Ranbob says his memory has been damaged after years of loneliness and torment. For some reason he’s carrying TNT.

- Quackity was incredibly stupid, but very nice. A nudist bard who pranked other members of the server, who idolized Skeppy. He kept to his optimism despite all the chaos that surrounded him, perhaps because he was too dumb to understand the tragedy of what was happening.

- Next is Skeppy’s room. Skeppy had some type of poisoning that made him bright blue, so rich his skin was diamond-coated. He may have been married to Badboyhalo. He may have turned yellow.

- Badboyhalo’s room looks a little similar to the Crimson...Bad was a powerful magician and prolific swearer.

- The next room is a bit of a mystery. There’s an ancient cartoon on the TV. This character’s room needs access to the water. One moment he seems important, the next he’s nowhere to be found.

- Next is the Tubbo room, full of beehives and honey, and an ancient picture of a revolution on the wall. Tubbo was one of the great Manburg Warriors, a leader whose greatest follower was Tommy. Directly upstairs from Tubbo’s room is Tommy’s, who was married to his wife, the Queen.

Tommy liked to collect damaged plates with holes in the middle.

- Ranbob leads them to the Tree Dome Room. In it is a great tree, some swings, and a little wooden bench with a jukebox beside it. Ranbob goes missing.

- Ranbob returns and burns the tree after Cletus climbs it. Cletus burns to death. People don’t live after coming here...Ranbob blows himself up.

- There may be a way to survive, but no one ever returns from the City of Mizu.

- There’s a room full of lava and parkour. Benjamin is chosen to traverse it. Isaac gives “Benji” a kiss first. He doesn’t make it out alive. Isaac attempts it next. He makes it and obtains the final room key.

- Dream’s room.

- Ranbob appears in the doorway.

Ranbob: “Everybody here had an idol that they worshipped...and mine was Dream.”

Isaac: “Was Dream a good man?”

Ranbob: “...Yes...Yes, he was a very good man...depending on what you think ‘good’ is. Nobody...Nobody leaves here.”

- Ranbob kills them both, ending it.

...

- Karl is in his library, writing the tale...of the Lost City of Mizu. He puts the book and its poster in their place.

- He then writes the first entry of his diary.

Every time he travels, he forgets a little more. Maybe one day he’ll forget who he is entirely. He wonders if he should stop, but decides he must keep going, attempt to right some wrongs and steer the world in the correct path.

Don’t forget who you are.

---

- Bad comes online, thinking about the events of earlier. He’s surprised that Tommy, while NOT immune to the Egg, is neutral to it.

- Bad plans to carve a tunnel all the way to the Egg so that the Egg’s influence can flow unobstructed, hopefully speeding up the growth of the Vines.

- They planned to feed Tommy to the Egg, but it didn’t seem to be working.

- Bad and Antfrost confront Sam. Sam is fed up with the two of them getting muddled in the Egg business and wants them to put a stop to it. Sam Nook was acting on Sam’s orders.

As an affiliate to both Tommy and Tubbo through their building projectts, Sam has a personal reason to be upset with the Egg. Sam doesn’t want Tommy’s mental state deteriorating because he’s set to get a share of the profits of the hotel.

- Puffy is horrified that Bad would take children down to the Egg without hazmat suits.

- Antfrost’s eyes have gone full red.

- Bad tries to convince Sam that his priorities are backwards.

Bad: “Sometimes, in order to become a hero, you have to start off as a villain.”

- Bad insists that they need the Egg as a uniting force. Something that everyone can agree upon that it’s a bad thing, so that they can all come together to fight it as one.

- Sam is furious at the suggestion that Tommy needs to go. He’s aware of the things that Dream did to Tommy in exile because Dream’s been telling him.

- Finally, Bad gives in and agrees that the Egg has been influencing him too much. He asks Sam to put all his stuff in a chest. Sam refuses, but agrees to give his pickaxes to Antfrost.

- He leads Sam to stand in the middle of the Meeting Room. He gives Sam a hug and presses a button that opens a door directly beneath him, shooting Sam down into the Egg Room, right on top of it. They lock him in there until he learns to love it and attempt to kill Puffy.

Sam fell right into the obsidian objects that had appeared on top of the Egg, now trapped in it. Bad poked holes in there so that he could be infected through it.

- Puffy is horrified, saying that Bad is starting to sound like Dream. She runs to the Holy Land.

Puffy: “Everyone I care about’s getting locked up somewhere!”

- The two of them lead Puffy to the Egg.

- Puffy tries and fails to convince them that she’s come under the Egg’s control. They don’t fall for it and give her a ten second headstart to start running. Puffy escapes.

- Puffy makes it to the safe room. She needs to speak with Fundy and get things back under control. She digs a tunnel and starts making a new cork board to try and remember all the lines she and Fundy made to connect everything.

- Puffy is horrified at the idea of the Dreamons being involved. Is Dream connected to this too?

- Puffy writes an entry in the Captain’s Log. She’s done being a knight. It means nothing.

Puffy: “It’s time for anarchy. It’s time for the people, not for the factions.”

- She goes to the Crater to think of all the memories that had been wiped away. How did it come to this?

Puffy: “I’d rather have had Dream than this. At least Dream knew his limits sometimes.”

- She plans on trying to set Sam free tomorrow and perhaps seek out Technoblade eventually.

---

Upcoming Events:

- Everyone and their mom wants to visit Dream at some point

- Nuclear weapons test (January 26th)

---

END OF WEEK RECAP:

1/18: Founding of the Syndicate, Hannah joins the server, Eggpire propaganda

1/19: HBomb leaves home, Tommy’s last night, Punz’s discovery

1/20: SEASON TWO FINALE

1/21: Snowchester declares independence, Tommy’s visit with Dream

1/22: Slimecicle joins the server

1/23: The Fever Dream Episode, start of the capitalism plot

1/24: The Eggpire attacks, Tales From the SMP: “The Lost City of Mizu”

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #dream smp end of week recaps #long posts

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tinalbion · 3 years ago

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Hey Best Writer- (I really mean it 😔💕💕💕) If you take ask(ik your asks are open but I’m just making sure 😤💕) could u do a scenario/hcs (whichever you want) for Buckman and his S/O that have a L O T (arms, back and legs) of tattoos and is a heavy metal singer- If it’s okay 😂👉👈 I just had this magnificent idea Ps: I luv your writing so much 😔😔😤😤😤🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️👁👄👁

FRUTTI! YOU SWEET AND WONDERFUL DARLING, YOU! Best writer? You’re WAY too lovely, omg, bless you~

You’re always so kind and I love you so, so much! This is definitely okay and I cannot wait for you to read what I have, may you enjoy it! 💖 And I love YOU!!! Thank you~

Mayor Buckman x Reader who is a Heavy Metal Singer Covered in Tattoos

Rating: None

Length: 1.2k

Upon meeting

Coming to Pleasant Valley wasn’t exactly what you signed up for when you got lost on your way to the beach, but the detour sign was the only way you could have possibly gone what with the other roads being blocked or out of service. So here you were, staring ahead looking like a deer caught in the headlights as your car was surrounded by all of these people who had greeted you so kindly, some were even playing instruments as you sat in the driver’s seat. Then suddenly, they all parted to make way for an older gentleman who looked as friendly as the rest of them, his face giving you that sense of ‘everything is gonna be okay’. He was dressed very well and he looked really intrigued by your look.

“Well greetings there, darlin’, Buckman’s the name, mayor’s my game!” He held out his hand for you to shake, and you took it firmly, shaking it and surprising even him with your grip. “Welcome to Pleasant Valley.”

You stepped out from the car to speak properly and that’s when they all got a real good look at you in your tank top and shorts. Buckman had been rendered speechless as you stepped out looking up at the large manor as you shield your eyes from the harsh sun, his gaze glued on you as your attention was elsewhere. You really were a very unique creature and it almost shamed him to look at you like that, especially with his background and his personal beliefs.

It only got worse from there as he kept an eye on you throughout the day. Granny Boone caught you and gave you a glass of fresh lemonade and conversed with you, commenting on your tattoos.

“So darling, what made you think of getting all those tattoos on you? Seems to be a perfect way to ruin your skin…”

You smiled kindly and shrugged. “I’m an artist in a way, I sing, probably not the type of music you listen to, but this is another way to express my artistic feelings and I just think they’re gorgeous. I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, that’s totally understandable.”

Granny Boone listened as she sipped at her glass, quiet as she looked up and down your arms and legs, smirking ever so slightly. “Sounds like a very interesting take on it, dear, I respect that.” And that was that.

What neither of you knew was that the mayor had been hanging around, listening to you speak. It was a completely different way of thinking, he didn’t understand it to the point of getting it inked into your skin, but as Granny said, he could definitely respect it. But what really caught his attention was your confession of being a singer, though you mentioned it wouldn’t be something they may like. He was still genuinely curious about you. You seemed like this really hard, really aggressive-looking person, yet something in your face and in your voice was really sweet, it drew Buckman in like nothing ever had before.

He walked along the dirt roads of the town and gave instruction to the townsfolk for the other guests that so happened to stop into town thanks to their cleverly crafted detour sign, but he firmly instructed that the heavily tattooed gal was to be off-limits for now.

It wasn’t until the sun had gone down that you came out from your quarters and almost quite literally ran into Buckman as you were wandering around Pleasant Valley and enjoying the music that echoed in the air, and you caught your footing before stumbling, grabbing the mayor’s hand before he too fell onto the ground from the impact.

“Oh, I am so sorry, mayor!” you chirped as you dusted off his jacket for him, panicking that you may have upset him or offended him, but when you looked up, he was chuckling. "Oh, I'm sorry?"

"Well, well, if it isn't our little charming camellia," he greeted and placed his hand on yours. "Don't worry so much about it, darlin', you okay?"

You blushed a little and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine, thank you. What are you doing out here so late?"

Buckman looked around and gestured at the sky. "Well now, the sky is clear, the moon is high, and the evening is still early. Gotta relax and have some fun, ya know? Let loose a little. By the way, I heard about your music, what kinda music do you sing?"

You looked up at him and smiled, wondering just how much you'd scare this poor man with your preference of music. Though showing that he was interested was amusing in itself. "Well, as I mentioned to Granny Boone, I don’t think you’ll be too excited about it. You folks seem to like a certain charming genre while mine is uh, heavier... “ you explained with a grin.

Buckman didn’t seem to mind as he walked alongside you, his hands clasped behind his back as he listened. “You are an intriguing creature, I hope you know that."

You looked up at him and eyed him curiously, unable to hide your smile as you both stopped at the edge of the grassy field that stretched out before you. The moon pulled your gaze away from him and you couldn't help but really admire being out in the country like this and really being closer to nature. You were a city person, you didn't get the time nor the pleasure to get the chance to do this very often.

"Well uh," Buckman began, "I'd be willing to hear your music some time if you decided to stay for the next couple of days."

You looked back at him and smiled excitedly. "Yeah, I'd really like that, mayor."

"Oh now, do go ahead and call me Buckman," he cooed and slipped his hands in his pockets, walking away and making it back to the life of the party, leaving you to your thoughts in the moonlight. And that's where it all began.

Establishing a relationship

After capturing his interest, it ended up going from there and you two grew ever closer, so much to the point that he spared you from ending up on the dinner table that Jubilee. You were in the dark and had no idea of the fates of the guests that had passed through.

The more time you spent together, the more you allowed Buckman to see the real you; you told him your interests, you told him your likes and what drove you, what you were passionate about. He seemed to take interest in these things all without really telling you much about himself.

What seemed like days was almost a fever dream for you and then something had changed. He asked you to stick around even though he warned you that if you did, things would become complicated. You didn't know what that entailed, but despite it being cryptic it was almost sweet the way he asked you these things.

"Aren't I a bit too different for you, though? I mean, this whole 1800s thing, I don't know if I'd-" You were unsure of yourself and yet you were almost leaning toward the choice of staying here with him despite it being very far from your comfort zone. "You mean, you don't mind that I look like this?"

"Darlin', you're one of the most unique individuals I've ever come across, and I've seen a lot of different folk stop through here. I think this place will be good for your soul."

#tinalbion writings #slashers headcanons #slashers imagine #slashers x reader #slasher requests #mayor buckman #mayor buckman headcanons #mayor buckman imagines #mayor buckman x reader #tuttifuckingfruttifriday

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