#will tumblr crunch the shit out of this? let's see
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you ever find urself face-down in an alley at like 2am nd you realize, "oh, this might be how i die". every hope and dream ive ever had and everythng ive ever wanted to do and could ever do is all gnna be snuffed. oit right here in some rsndom street on a sunday night while im wearing fuckifjn spandex. and i have school tomrro1w but maybe i wont.
❆ · ( open starter ) · ❆
With a groan, Miles lets his phone fall out of his hand; it somehow being the only thing on him that didn't get broken.
Maybe he's being overdramatic. He doesn't care. Doesn't... really care about much at all, actually. Shock makes you do crazy shit-- like make a vaguely concerning Tumblr post after a bungled patrol then immediately shut his phone off rather than call for help.
Not like he could feasibly do the latter anyways. Last thing he wants is for Spider-man to have a medical record, much less at his mom's hospital. Would the bite have messed with his body enough that he couldn't go through normal medical procedures?
... besides, if Spider-man has to call for help, that doesn't make him much of a protector, huh?
What kind of a protector, a good one at that, gets his ass beaten within an inch of his life on what was supposed to a normal, routine patrol? Crawls away to a random back alley to lick his wounds alone? If anyone saw him like this, he'd never live it down-- assuming he were still alive to see the headline anyways.
Fluffy snowflakes start falling, ever so daintily landing on Miles's overheated body, on his eyelashes. (huh. When did his mask lenses get shattered?) They contrast with the night sky like stars. The city noises turn into a hazy blur, like it's all a million miles away. The cars, a dog barking, the faint background buzz of electrical wires.
Not a bad place to die, Miles thinks with startling calmness.
He didn't expect what he believes is the end of his life to be so.... calm. Atmospheric, almost. Not like he's complaining though; too out of it to be worried. His eyelids grow heavier and heavier. His thoughts slow to what feels like sludge.
He doesn't register the crunch of shoes on pavement approaching him.
#(( open angsty ass starter cs im BORED ))#𑁍 how my story's supposed to go#open rp#open roleplay starter#atsv#spiderman roleplay#miles morales rp#marvel roleplay#miles morales#roleplay#spiderverse#atsv miles#across the spiderverse#atsv miles morales#atsv rp#atsv roleplay#marvel rp#spiderman#spiderman rp#spiderman atsv#spiderman: across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse#rp blog#roleplay blog#rp#cred: cafekitsune
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oh, round and round we go~
#cathy limbus company#heathcliff limbus company#limbus company#canto 6 spoilers#will tumblr crunch the shit out of this? let's see#i actually finished this like a month ago and kept forgetting to actually upload it lmao#kitsch art#canto 6 rewired my brain. so did canto 7. i cannot wait for canto 8
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Snowed In - Yeti!M!Leon x GN!Reader (NSFW)
Merry LATE Chrimmy guys!!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR GUYS!!! (yeah... that went well) guys the fic is very long so I MARKED THE SMUT IN BLUE JUST SCROLL FOR IT
I was brainrotting with my best friend EVER and I came up with a terrible terrible thing (You're welcome) so hear me out, you're camping out in the snow, looking for, idk, self torture, and suddenly you catch the eye of a certain Yeti...
Long story short, he rescues you... eventually, and warms you up inside! I wanted to make this GN because although I am an F who LOVES F fics, I thought it'd be nice for y'all not Fs out there! I'll try keep it short so there's more chance of me finishing it! EDIT: IT's VERY LONG, JUST LIKE HIM!!!
THIS IS INSPIRED BY THE BRAINROTTINGLY NSFW GAME CLOUD MEADOW WHICH I HAVENT PLAYED BUT I WANT TO PLAY!! iN THE GAME THERE'S A CUTE YETI GUY AND HE LOOKS LIKE LEON A BIT, NO?!???!??!!?
guys I tried to edit this like 2000 times and every fucking time tumblr deleted my edit I am going insane but I pulled through for YOU! (eventually)
Honestly guys i'm not happy with this one it by far isn't my best work so read at your own peril. What I really want is for people to love the idea, not the fic, you know?? xx Pls do something with it if you like it! <3
Characters: GN!Reader, Yeti! Monster!Leon Kennedy
Warnings: NSFW, mentions of penetration, kissing, licking, cuddling etc, cumming iinside toooo, Reader is GN for inclusivity, and I've described the sex as P-in-Hole lol. He fucks you and you imagine where ig. !! Leon is kinda monstrous and not too human, and also in the start he kinda wrecks ur camp and scares the shit outta u so if it'll trigger pls dont read. Leon isn't monstrous he;s just big, furry and a bit primal. Kinda switchy / sub leon so at the start he lets you push him around n then he rails u v hard sooo uhhgjjj and also u have no condom dont be so naughty!!! NOT PROOF READ THERE WILL BE ISSUES OK BUT i CANNAE BE ASKED SORRY
Stay safe n happy this Winter!
"Just picture it! The fresh air! All that snow!" A naive relative tells you, patting you firmly on the shoulder. You stare down blankly at the brochure in your hands, all about a family getaway to a ski resort in some snowy, far off mountains. You didn't doubt them when they told you it'd be a good family exercise, but all you wanted to bond with was your warm bed and all the other things you had to do.
Only a week later, there you were. The sigh you let out dispersed into a cloud of white vapour before your eyes, leaving you to gaze upon your surroundings. Before you sat the exact sight from the brochure you held only a week ago, and it was beautiful. Crisp snow crunched beneath each trudging step, snow-tipped pines line each iced hill and valley as far as your eye could see. No longer mere inky blotches on thick paper - the wind howled past, whistling through each tree, and sending shivers up your over-clothed spine.
You learn the hard way that you won't even have a warm cabin and hearth to laze by during your chilly nights as you follow your family to pick up the camping gear they would be renting. You supposed it'd save money, but at what cost? Pneumonia?
And as you're all setting up camp, you can't help recall being at home wrapped up in your warm covers and revelling in the endless wonders of your Tumblr "for you" page. You also can't help feeling as though you're being... watched, and not by fellow campers in their tents.
"There's nothing out here but adorable rodents and birds!" your guide would exclaim for the fourth time now, in a screech which rivalled that of any of the feathered friends he'd referred to. He means to reassure you, and whilst you'd love to trust what he says with his years of experience in mind, you can't help but doubt him.
Eventually, night falls, and after a good few hours around a make-shift campfire sipping hot drinks of your choice, you and your family finally resign to bed. It's freezing, and despite your warmest sleeping-bag and thickest pyjamas, your teeth chatter and your body shakes. But you're convinced to fall asleep. The sooner you do, the sooner the cold fades away. So, eventually, amidst the wind battering your tent, and night-time ambience, you drift off.
You wake with a start, surprisingly warm, but quickly realise you're alone. Oh no. That's terrifying. After trying (and failing) for a good while to get signal (ever the priority (maybe this is too self-insert)), you crawl out of your tent. The sun hangs high in the sky. You were out for a while. Your sigh of relief must be audible once you find a scrawled note pinned to the makeshift seating surrounding your lit campfire.
"Good morning Sleepyhead!" It reads, and you can tell by the writing exactly who wrote it.
"We didn't want to wake you up so we've gone to get some food! Be back soon! xxx"
Well, at least you knew they couldn't be far away. You're not at all ready for the cold winds that begin to gnaw at your skin again so, groggily, you crawl back into your tent. You stretch, get back into your cocoon, and try once more to get signal.
He'd been watching you for a while now. He watched all the humans at the ski resort as they went about their festive holidays, completely unaware of his presence and he wouldn't have it any other way. Once like you, Leon was just like any other man, or government agent. That was until he encountered a strange virus on one of his missions. Years ago now, the virus caused him to significantly grow in size. He became taller and slightly buffer, and began to grow white fur on most of his body. His hair also became white.
Amused, Leon referred to it as the Y-virus (Y for Yeti) to anyone who'd listen, but, afraid of any negative side effects and any testing, hid away in some distant mountains. If you'd see his face, anyone who knew him might recognise him, and he dared not admit it to anyone, but he enjoyed being free, living off of wild animals and things. That, and, any snacks he could pilfer from unattended camps. He enjoyed his tranquil life, but grew to hate the years of loneliness he'd subjected himself to. As time went on, however, Leon slowly forgot what it was like to interact with other humans. And then, he forgot how to speak well too.
He watched as humans had their holidays, and spent time with friends and family. He was content in the knowledge that you were all happy, and, once the people cleared off, he'd investigate the area to see how far humans were developing, and whether he was still in the papers.
He'd been watching your camp too, and he was certain you'd all left. This was his chance to investigate.
You've been laying on your makeshift bed for a few minutes now when suddenly, you make out the soft sound of trudging through snow towards your tent. The footsteps are slow, but you chalk that up to any exhaustion a human would experience after facing the monster of a hill your tent was precariously placed upon. At first, you think it could be family, until you realise there's only one set of steps. It was probably someone on their way to wherever they were going. Nothing concerning you.
The sound approaches though, each footfall sounding loud, heavy and far apart. You'd think they were just walking slowly, if not for the speed at which the volume of each step increases. Before you know it, a large shadow almost eclipses your tent. A male figure. A tall one at that, and he seems to be about to walk straight through your camp.
Bit unnecessary...
Except he doesn't. The man just stops outside your tent. He looks around a bit. Maybe he needs some help, you think. Groaning quietly, you crawl out of bed, and peep through the unzipped door of your tent-
Tall. Really, really tall. At least 6ft. And you're staring right at his ass. And he doesn't... have clothes on.
Before you stands, quite proudly, something you can only describe as a yeti. He's covered from head to toe in thick, soft white fur. He's broad, muscular, and his waist forms a sharp V as it reaches his hips. Even through his glossy, well kept coat, the definition of each muscle and delicious shoulder blade catches your eye. You're terrified, hoping it's just some sort of elaborate cosplay to scare people. There's definitely space for someone to be hiding inside that... realistic suit. Ducking into your tent, you continue to observe with only one eye peeking from the tent, hoping you won't be noticed.
The man begins to look around, two catlike ears upon his head are perked as he scans his surroundings and eventually, he looks in your direction. He's far too tall to even register you while his eyes are at their level, but oh boy do you register him. You drink in his form, and, as he turns, his face. He's chiselled, certainly a sight for the sorest of eyes. His face is simply the cutest, softest almost feline looking one, and his jaw juts out as he analyses his surroundings thoughtfully.
You know how Leon looks, so I don't need to go into detail about the way his piercing blue eyes reflect the sun, shining through his silver fringe. I don't need to describe to you how his fluffy bangs sway dramatically as he looks around, or how he playfully blows a soft puff of breath upwards to clear some stray hair from his eyes.
Fortunately for you, I also don't need to tell you that he doesn't see you. He seems almost in a trance, stepping around carefully, analysing the tents and each miscellaneous object littered around. It seems as though he's checking up on things- the quality of them, the materials they're made of. He seems curious.
And then you see it, a small burst of flame at his right ankle. He's stepped too close to the fire pit. The yeti lets out a startled grunt, jumping into the air like a petrified cat. His hair bristles and stands on end as he tries to stand one legged in the snow, trying to bury his leg to put it out.
Then he loses his balance, the gargantuan man stumbling forward before suffering an untimely meeting with the guy line of a nearby tent. He yelps, trips, and with a loud thud and a few pings, lands face first in the snow right outside your tent. His collision with the strings holding up your tent sends them pinging out of the soft snow, and suddenly, your tent collapses around you, trapping you in.
Even in weak flails, he'd managed to tear his claws through another tent. You were terrified. What if he saw you?
In his clumsy efforts, the man had thrown quite a large amount of snow into your tent, and you gradually become colder, damper and more panicked as the freezing wet fabric of the tent pins you down. Scared to move, you only shiver as you completely hide inside now, not wanting the abomination outside to find you. You'd seen enough now to be certain that wasn't a costume. He was too... real.
You hear frantic fumbling and crunches of snow as the man outside extinguishes the last of his afflictions. His breaths are heavy, and gradually slow to a calming rate. And, after a while of sitting there still, perhaps shocked, he works up the courage to gaze around at the tents he's toppled. When his eyes at last land on your entirely ruined one, his heart sinks straight to his gut. His shoulder slump and he just stares in your direction, guilty being an understatement. Maybe if he just stares at the tent for a little longer, everything will undo itself, he seems to think, ogling your direction as his mouth hangs open.
Instead, it draws his attention to your shivering form beneath the soaked fabric. He swallows thickly, eyes widening and pupils narrowing.
"Fuck..." he groans meekly, muscles tensing in anticipation before stumbling to his feet. He kicks snow as he makes a series of small, unsure steps towards the tent. Then, in a flurry of inevitable motion, he crouches and throws what's left of your tent off of you. And just like that, with a yelp, your prison of a disguise is torn from you, exposing your skin to the cool, dry air. You shiver, duck away and curl further into a ball. Some small part of you prays for this to be just a nightmare, but the rest of you knows it's very real.
As soon as you hit hit his eyes, Leon falters. He leans back in surprise and his brows furrow in pity and regret. He could tear you apart so easily, and he'd just proved it. Sniffing the air a little, eventually he moves in, reaching out to you with large, clawed hands. He's almost pouting at you, eyes narrowed in concentration as he moves in. All you can do is hold your breath. You ball yourself up tighter. You have no idea how you'll survive this - you're past the point of playing dead. All you can do is stare up at him, silently pleading for mercy.
His hands are warm where they touch you. They're large too - large enough to almost encompass each of your upper arms in their soft grip. He just stays there for a while, gently holding your arms as they shiver. His gaze is locked on them as he focuses, gently adjusting the force at which he holds you, rhythmically squeezing you a little, just to get a feel. His tongue darts out in his focus, and after a while, his eyes are back on yours.
You wondered when your family would be back. You wondered if they could even save you. And then it hit you. You wondered if they'd never be back.
Gently, Leon pries your arms away from your face where you'd shielded yourself so desperately. When I say gentle, well, to him it was. He barely had to exert any force to bend you to his will. You were like putty to him. He could easily overpower you, and he didn't dwell on whether it was down to sheer strength or your fear.
Emotionless eyes scan you up and down a few times, ultimately resting on your face once more as a slow hand wipes your clinging hair from your forehead. Then, he reaches out again. Large clawed hands find purchase under each of your arms. They slide in easily as you comply, not wishing to enrage him. He hoists you up with ease, save a small grunt. Next thing you know, he's standing and you're held at arm's distance from him like a cat. He peers up at you, smiling for the first time. He chuffs, hot breath landing on your face; he seems proud of his catch.
Terrified and uncomfortable, you continue to shake in his grip. All you can do is stare at him pleadingly, and even if you had the willpower, you doubted you could escape him. Your clothes are soaked through now, and if you had to thank him for anything, it would be for warming your arms and not killing you... yet. His blues stalk you through his silvery fringe, and after sniffing your air a few times, he sighs and pulls you in.
You're terrified. You can't look. You squeeze your eyes shut. What if he eats you?? You couldn't even begin to picture it, but after a few seconds of being pressed against his warm body, a gentle caress of your thigh coerces you to open your legs a little to allow him space between them. He grunts, wrapping your legs around his waist and carrying you more supportively now, like a child.
Buried in his chest, you can't see the small awkward smile he gives you, or the look of relief he sends your way as you seem to warm up to him (literally.) Through small rubs and caresses up your back and where he holds you by your thighs, he slowly rubs his warmth into you. Mind so frazzled by fear, all you can really do is let him hold you. You shiver occasionally, afraid of what he may do to you, but otherwise remain still. You don't want to get on his bad side.
After a while of peace, he gently places a finger below your chin, and guides your face up to meet his. He leans in, nuzzles your cheek a little with his nose, and takes a deep breath in. He lingers on you for a while - eyes closing in either bliss or contemplation, before walking once more. He scowls at the firepit as he passes it, beginning to carry you off in the direction he came in.
Where was he taking you? You go a little rigid, now realising you're being abducted. You panic, and it manifests in small squirms, trying to ball yourself up again and push away, levering yourself away from the yeti. You strain against him, and your small noises of fear and exertion perk his ears. He glances down at you tenderly, ceasing his stride to raise a gentle finger to your teary eyes. He swallows thickly and puffs out another deep breath, thinking for a while. He's not at all sure what to do, and doesn't want to risk failing to speak of his own accord, so instead just bounces you softly like a father cradling a child.
You feel warm and cared for, and become distracted wondering if he can actually understand you. However, your surrender was enough compliance for him to continue walking, and he carries on carting you off to goodness knows where. You wouldn't know this, but in truth, Leon was so confused. He hadn't come face to face with a human in years, nevermind one who was so brittle and terrified of him. Somehow, after all these years, he still imagined himself to be the hero, not the monster.
He hadn't intended to face you. He didn't mean to destroy your tent, or to plunge you into the freezing cold... What he'd meant to do was leave you there, before any of that could happen. He'd felt guilty. He wouldn't let his actions affect you and your sweet holiday so negatively. It was decided for him, he was sure he was helping you. He was going to fix things, and warm you up.
The cold and fear had left you weak. You sit in his arms, limp, knowing you couldn't get away even if you'd tried. The gentle rock of his body against yours as he powers through the snow soothes you. His warmth and strong scent clouds your judgement. Before very long, you find yourself snuggling into him somewhat as you watch your camp grow further and further away through tired eyes. He squeezes you gently as he feels you sink into him. One hand rubs up and down your back soothingly. It was ironic, as your captor, how much reassurance Leon was trying to give you.
"C-can you understand me?" You whisper eventually, raising your head to gaze up at the large man's jaw. His ears twitch a little and then he hums. He peers down at you, thoughtfully.
"Hm.. yeah." His voice is gravelly, rough and deep. It's quiet though, like he doesn't use it much.
"You can?!" Your eyes widen and you pull away a little. Leon was becoming quite nervous now. He feared this moment. He didn't want to talk to you at all. He knew he'd fuck up. In response to your question, Leon smiles sheepishly, revealing his sharp teeth. You get straight to the point. "Where are you taking me?"
He frowns and peers down at you. "My... home?"
"Why??" you feel hopeless again. He seemed human enough to appeal to, but then again, you had no idea what he wanted with you.
"...It's warm here" he eventually mumbles as you notice your surroundings suddenly getting a little darker as he carries you into a cave. You'd been so entranced staring up at him, that you hadn't taken in your surroundings for a while. As you do, you notice several random objects lying around. Some looked natural and from the forest like pinecones, sticks and berries. Others seemed very human. Smartphones, newspapers... clothes.
Oh no. You were going to die here.
At least none of the belongings seemed to belong to you or your family... yet. That was still terrifying though. Where was all this stuff from? Some of it was even torn... That's it, you're getting out of here. With a newfound vigour, you begin to claw at his shoulder and back, climbing out of his arms. For a second, it works, until he catches on and wraps his burly hands around your waist, yanking you back down to where he has a good hold on you. He ducks down to look you in the eyes, almost pleading. "Not gonna hurt you." His voice is a soft hum now, claws prodding you as he holds you still.
Somehow, he comes across as quite trustworthy. You couldn't be scared of him just because he's big, not when he's so clumsy and cute. And certainly not when he holds you and watches you as if you were the most precious, sweet individual he'd encountered. It was hard to ignore him, too, with his smooth voice and handsome face, and the careful way he leans over you as he carries you deeper into his cave to shelter you from droplets of condensation.
"Can you please let me go?" you plead.
"I'll take you" he hums, missing the way your eyes widen in shock and confusion. He jostles you up a little to make sure you stay wrapped around his waist and no lower, before eventually laying you down on some soft-makeshift bedding. You're so far into the cave that most of the light from outside is gone. Nobody would find you now, even if they saw the small gas lamp Leon lit beside you. He's about to lay down right beside you when he realises, perhaps, it's not the right thing to do.
Sheepishly, he motions to a spot on his own bed beside you. "Can I?" You have no idea what to say, so, you nod. You were in his home, if you could even call it that, you weren't gonna anger him. You felt as though you needed to make friends with him if you planned on getting out of this alive. And so, as the large man slowly got onto his knees before laying down on his side beside you, it struck you just how "Beauty and the beast" this situation really was. He groaned a little and his joints creaked somewhat as he slowly got down, propping his head up with one hand as he watches you.
Huge was an understatement, and whilst he did have monstrous features and strength, he seemed like the type to at least give you a kind death should he want to eat you-
No, stop. Why are you thinking like that?
You shiver, replacing his amused hum with another thick swallow. His wide eyes scan you.
"Still cold." his lips tug disapprovingly as he watches you lay there, and when you nod, he wraps a blanket around you that he got from goodness knows where. His voice echoed in the small cave, even if he seemed to be whispering now. Leon didn't like causing you fear, but he also didn't like ruining your shelter and warmth, and so, he sought to provide those for you.
You lay there, facing him. Slow and heavy breaths continue to rush over your face, fanning you as he invades your personal space. Yet for some reason, you can't bring yourself to move away. Turning your head momentarily, you eye your camp in the distance. Maybe if you could just get up and run now, you could escape him. Maybe he'd be kind and let you go. You shake again, the cave only rescuing you from the wind, not the biting cold his body provided you shelter from only moments earlier.
Suddenly, his burly arms are back on you. They wrap around you and pull you close, leaving you no space but to open your legs a little for him to get in between. He blankets you in a weighted embrace, head rested in your neck, pressed intimately close. "You're still shivering" He murmurs, silently noticing how your hairs stand on end at his proximity and gravelly tones. You feel his soft fur against your face, between your fingers. You can almost hear his heartbeat.
It's at this point, reluctantly, that you start to allow your attraction to him to manifest. The signs had all been there before as you admired his figure and strength, and basked in his voice. But now, you had no way of escape. You might as well just give in and enjoy the ride. So, you relax against him, wrapping your leg around him again, and letting him give you all of the closeness he can.
Leon knows this is wrong. He, at heart, is still very human, and knows that he should have abandoned you about 20 minutes ago after he destroyed your tent. Heck, he shouldn't have even gone to investigate. But he couldn't fight how good this felt. He couldn't fight the slow boner he was developing as you snuggled up to him so innocently, and he couldn't help wondering what a relationship with a human would be like, after all these years.
He also cant help the small shocked whimper he makes when you move down a little to snuggle up closer to him, and not-so-accidentally press quite firmly against his little issue. His hands seize your waist, threatening to move you, but when you tense in protest, he groans and goes limp, wrapping them around you again. He falls under the impression that if he keeps still, and if he keeps you still, you won't know what's really going on.
It was difficult to keep your morbid curiosity at bay, about fucking a literal Yeti. It was also difficult to not get too attached to the soothing warmth of his shimmery fur and hot skin. His slow breaths and small smile had you in a sleepy trance. You could fall asleep like this and rest. It would be the warmest night you'd get out here, and in all honesty, this was all starting to feel like a nice, cuddly dream.
Too much so.
"What do you want from me?" You lean back to look into his eyes which shoot open. He seems sleepy too. Your presence comforting him more than you could ever know. He stammers a little.
"W.. N- Nothing." he pleads, leaning in to press his forehead to yours. He thinks for a long while, articulating his words. "Just wanna... keep you warm, n safe." he sighs. You're digesting his response when his eyes shoot open in terror as he feels his cock kick against you once. He loosens his grip. This was terrible. He was being selfish. Maybe he should take you home now.
"Are you gonna let me go back?? I have a family out there, please." You whimper, giving him the eyes. He can't say no, he never wanted to hold you hostage. He just wanted to make sure you were ok and-
"Are you warm now?" he huffs, looking down at you to gauge your expression. In all honesty, you were warm, physically and emotionally. He was cute, too cute, and you could tell that he cared. For the first time since you'd met, you almost felt sure that he would actually let you go. And so, you wanted to test him. You pretend to think for a while.
"mmm, no." you smile up at him.
"No??" He seems shocked, running his hands over you to check, nuzzling his nose against your face. "You feel so... warm" he chokes out, eyeing you worriedly. He presses his finger tips to your forehead "you ill?" he grumbles "Where?" His huge hand works its way up and down your body, pressing everywhere he can whilst still being decent, checking for warmth. Then, when he identifies that your leg is a little cool, he wraps his around it.
You stare up at him. The answer is very simple. "Inside." you hum. He short circuits. Leon stares down at you, a faint blush just becoming visible beneath the fur of his cheeks. Inside? What did that mean? How was he meant to warm you up there???
Oh.
Leon stares at you in shock. He swallows thickly, and you decide he's just not sure what you mean, so, you decide to be a little more genuine about it. "Look... I'm... I'm not even sure if this is real. But I've never seen anything like you before and I'm just curious." There's a stunned silence as he eyes you up and down, thinking to himself.
"If you don't want to- it's fine." He wanted to. Oh boy did he want to. He just wasn't sure if it'd be right. He never imagined this day would come. He never thought he'd be able to fuck someone ever again. Leon hums down at you.
"Really shouldn't." those words pop your balloon instantly. You pout at him, but you're willing to take his answer.
"Why not?"
"No condom..." he sighs "Unless you-"
"No."
You both lay there in silence for a while before he crumbles, head falling to reside in the crook of your neck once more. You can tell he's thinking about it- taking you in, soaking into you. He's not felt more content in years. Cuddling up to you, he croons before placing a chaste kiss to your throat.
...Maybe he does want it...
You cover his cheek with small kisses, and sneakily reposition yourself against his throbbing cock. He whines, bucks into you once, and buries his fanged mouth against your skin where he feverishly kisses, trying to hide his sounds. Leon couldn't even admit to himself, let alone you, how pent up he'd been, and now? He wouldn't at all be able to let this opportunity slide.
One of his hands roams your body, sliding down to grip your waist possessively, tugging you hard against him. Then he retreats, realising his mistake. You grab his hand and return it to where it was, earning a playful chuckle and another shy buck of his hips. He runs that hand up your body twice more, watching entranced by the way it glides over your hips and chest, before using it to cup your face. He makes you look up at him.
"You sure?" He's hesitant, a little shaky. You're both very aware that this could end terribly. He could crush you.
"Uhuh.." Just like that, your fate is sealed. He leans in, and pulls you close for a hungry kiss. Expected from a mythical creature, Leon was a walking antithesis: His physical size and strength made him dominant and scary, and yet each of his actions was soft, caring and calculated... and needy. He whines as your lips meet his searing ones. He was so cute, so pliable. You're sure he'd do anything you wanted at this point, and so, testing your luck, you gently grind against him.
He instantly reciprocates, moaning a little as he clutches you tightly. Leon's ears sit flat to his head as he ruts against you, eyes screwed shut, mouth willingly opening enough for you to use some tongue. You've been making out for what, 2 minutes? And the man is already panting, groaning, rock solid against you as he humps desperately. When you slow down on the tongue, he licks eagerly into your mouth too, and moves to pepper kisses and licks all over your cheeks and neck while you catch your breath.
He's so cute, practically begging for you with his mouth but no words come to his aid. Instead, all the gentle giant can do is stare down at you with pleading giant puppy eyes. You want to go further with him. Guiding his hand down towards your sex, you intrust him to ready you. And oh boy does he. He swallows thickly, eyes locking onto you as if you're some mission or target, and he begins to work on you, slowly at first. He groans, cock kicking against you as he licks his lips. Eyes closed tight, kissing you all over, he doesn't even notice you undressing your bottom half until he hears you shimmy the fabric down your legs.
But that's when you feel it too. His hard cock poking out from his coat, slowly drooling copious pearls of precum, smearing his fur. He ruts it against you, the force of his huge hips shoving you so hard that you wrap yourself around him again just to stay put. Suddenly, Leon picks up his pace on you just where it feels best, rubbing with more force and energy than before. Unbeknownst to you, he had a plan. You let out a moan, mouth open wide enough for him to suddenly jam two huge digits in there. It didn't hurt, he wouldn't hurt you, but for a second, you feared for your life.
Even half way in, his fingers had you gagging, choking and drooling. You got them nice and wet for him, and as thanks, they'd be going inside you. Replacing his fingers with his tongue again, he needily whimpers and whines into your mouth.
"Fuck, you're w.. g-great... You're great" he groans, toying with your entrance, eyes shut once more as he grinds into you. He's slow, he understands his fingers are huge, especially by the reaction he didn't mean to elicit from filling your mouth with them, and so, once he breaches you, one finger at a time, makes sure to go slowly. He tries a bit of everything, thrusting, curling them, scissoring you open, all gently until he thinks you can take more.
He fills you so perfectly, so deliciously with just his fingers alone, and he knows what to do even whilst kissing you all over, but you don't dwell on where he got the experience. Leon nibbles a little at your lobe, trapping it gently between his sharp fangs, and moves towards teasing other parts of your throat and shoulder in this way until you begin grinding against his fingers, chasing something more. You snapped out of it a little when you realised just how large his member was. Easily over 7, maybe 8 inches.
And now, he was lining it up with you, holding his breath as he lets it slip, teasing your entrance a few times. It was thick too. The whole thing was just pretty, and due to his strange skin colour, where it would be red and angry it was tinged with a soft purple.
The last thing you see before he stuffs you is his brows furrowed in concentration as he lines himself up. As soon as he slides in, you groan and buck from the stretch of just the first few inches. He shakes, he twitches a little, and he curls up to you, holding you oh-so-dearly. His hips buck shallowly a few times but ultimately he's patient, waiting for the go ahead until he can continue to slowly fill you up. A few shallow thrusts and he works his way deeper, then he gives you a minute or so before repeating.
As bottomed out as he can be, Leon begins a torturously slow pace. He watches closely for you reaction. He's wondering what you like, what you want from him. Eventually, he's groaning with each slow thrust, apparently more edging for him than you. He quickens his pace, leaning over you, propping himself up as he pounds into you a little roughly now. He barely pulls out, each slow roll against of his hips against your sex making you want to cry out.
It's having an affect on him too. Before long, Leon is groaning and growling with each thrust. He's on his knees, body forcing your legs up against your chest as he pile-drives into you. His head hangs by your ear, occasionally nipping and sucking at you, but for the most part, growling like a feral animal. He slows down a little before driving a series of hard, strong thrusts into you with merciless force. Snarling and snapping his jaws, each smack of his hips shifts your body across the bed until he has to grab your ankle to pull you back to him.
He knows you're close, but he wants this moment to last and he's sure you do too. His breath tickles your ear between breathless chuckles, his voice deep and sultry, "H..heh... you ever... ridden a yeti?" As soon as you shake your head no, he purrs. "You want to?"
You nod. He picks you up with ease, temporarily leaving you empty and collapses onto his back. He's quick to fill you to the brim once more as soon as he's comfortable. He groans and throws his head back as you slide down him. And then, lets you work your magic. He groans under you, arms folded behind his head to cushion himself. His eyes follow you, watching you almost predatorily as you bounce on him, and occasionally, his hips snap up to meet yours.
"Fuck, you know, you're so... gnnn... good at this" he whines, trying to force his eyes to stay open so he can watch you.
He bites his lip, bucking up to meet you as his hands reach out for you. They're huge. One feels your body, supporting you, the other holds your ass, guiding you up and down. He smirks, clearly about to make another comment, when you reach down caress his chest, digging your nails into his pecs as best you can. His head falls back and he lets out an almost roar. "Fucckkk" he hums, staring up at you.
You're close again, but you're getting tired. Luckily for you, he understands. Leon sits up, wrapping his huge arms around you. He snuggles into your neck, littering it with growls and kisses as his hips go wild, pistoning into you with a force somehow he hadn't used yet. You were amazed, for such a large man, how hard and fast he could rabbit into your hole. His breaths deep, laboured and lustful as he lost himself in you.
It wasn't long before you were cumming on his cock, gripping his fat length like a vice. He groans, plugging his mouth with your shoulder, but not biting hard. You know exactly what's coming as he adjusts his legs, thrusting hard, almost throwing you up into the air if it weren't for his arms pinning you down to him. His growls and groans shake your core, rutting up in a similar fashion a few times as he pumps you full of his seed. And then he collapses, falling back against his bed. He pants and blushes furiously.
A small grin litters his face, he looks like he's about to pass out as he lays there, eyes narrow and chest heaving. It takes him a while to come down, cock still throbbing and kicking inside you. With how tight you are around him, there's no chance you'll spill a drop before he pulls out.
"Mmmm, fuck" he hums contentedly, hips jostling you upwards a few more times as he carefully reaches up to hold your face. His hand dwarfs your head easily, and he smiles. He's hesitant as he strokes your face. He knows what he did was probably wrong, but it felt so good. It delights him when, as he gently pulls you towards him, you come readily, leaning down to meet his lips.
This kiss isn't hungry or greedy. It's needy and loving. It's an apology, and a thank you, all at once. And when you pull away, his eyes flutter open to gaze lovingly at you.
He sighs, realising his time is up. "Alright, Take you back now, as promised." You're not having it. Playfully, you roll your hips against his and sigh down at him. His cock is half soft inside you now, and still feels great. He stares up at you, confused, ears perked. "What's wrong? Why not?"
"I'm cold outside again..." you pout. He chuckles, leaning up to grab you in a tight hug before laying down once more, this time with you as his captive.
"Well then, allow me to warm you up again."
And that he did.
Eventually you returned to your camp. With Leon carrying you, that is. If he'd given you anything, it was a severe case of jelly-leg.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
guys I just awnna have a little rant at u rn I'm sorry this fic is late and not christmas and Im sorry but I tried to write n edit this like 3 times and each time tumblr deleted my fucking edit im so fucking mad I had internet and I saved it as a draft the works but tumblr was a penis grrrr also, also, the times I edited it like and wrote some I had such good ideas for jokes and puns and things and good writing and now because iM fed up all my good ideas have left me so sorry that this fic is shitty bye thanks for existing ily.
the fic is so long im sorryy i hope you like him
#resident evil#re leon#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#re4 leon#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil leon#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy fanfic#yeti#fanfiction#fanfic#smut#leon kennedy smut#leon s kennedy x reader smut#gn!reader#yonten#cloud_meadow#cloud meadow
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❥ ❥ ❝ miss me already? ❞
ace trappola x gn!reader | wc: 6.8k~
summary: your boyfriend (of now approximately a minute and 47 seconds) makes a bet with you: “those idiots”—your best friends of first-years—won’t even notice a thing even if we weren’t dating.” and the funniest part? he’s probably right.
warnings: pure fluff! shenanigans! lots of cursing! friends (idiots) to lovers. one joke gendered term of milady but i think that meme is gender universal lol (coming from a masc nb)
a/n: this is for @dulcesiabits's “who is the prefect dating?!” collaboration on tumblr! thank you so so much for allowing me to write for ace, the little man, the stinky guy. also MAJOR shoutouts to lily and ct for wading through this mess, i appreciate you more than you know
“Thanks for covering me.” Your sigh is accompanied by a satisfying crunch beneath your shoes, a stray leaf the unfortunate target of your latest frustrations. “Even if you were late to class.” It wasn’t like being caught on your phone by Trein was the worst of your worries, but a death sentence of papers and reprimands was, in fact, preferably avoided if you could help it.
“You owe me one.” Ace replies airily, slowing his stride to bump your side with his bag. “What’re you going to do without me?” Like he wasn’t the asshole who made you check your phone because of his sudden impromptu reenactment of an earthquake via spam text.
08:30 [ ace ]: fuck im late
08:30 [ ace ]: HELP
08:31 [ ace ]: distract him
08:31 [ ace ]: catch something on fire idc
08:33 [ ace ]: i cant believe ur gonna make me take the L
“Have an easier life, that’s for sure.” He makes a vague noise between a squeaky trumpet and a chicken, looking as if you’ve insulted generations upon generations of the Trappola bloodline with a single throwaway comment. “What was I even supposed to do?” Several expressions cycle on his face—focused, thinking, trouble—before he makes a decision and steps closer to you to ‘accidentally’ swing his bag into you again... only to eat shit as you retaliate and shove it back.
“Told you, catch something on fire.” However, the movement is enough to make you lose your footing and free fall to the ground; about to meet miserable, sweet, concrete Death before Ace grabs your arm and catches your face with his chest. “Not that.” Whatever you say next comes out muffled, noise and mind distorted by the smell of cherries?
But, the peace doesn’t last long, especially with Ace, as he pulls back enough for you to catch his lips twitching with another one-liner. “Oooh, can’t take your hands off of me.” He instantly catches your next fist, “if you like me this much, just say so.”
“Oh, Ace.” Time to switch tactics. You latch onto the front of his shirt, tightening your fists with enough force to wrinkle both his blazer and vest. “You’re totally sooo cool and don’t pick your nose and I am sooooo deeply in love with you that I just,” he begins cackling as you shake him, “can’t-help-but-choke-you-out!”
“What happened to boundaries? No safe word?” It doesn’t matter that he’s practically being rag-dolled for all of NRC to see, no matter how much you try to shake and activate that one brain cell of his, giggles continue to keep spewing out, taunting and delighted.
“I hate you—just! Shut! Up!!” You’re gonna throttle him. No one’s gonna find his body, not if you can help it.
“Wow, love you too.”
“Sure don't act like it!”
“What? I do!” You let up and he doubles over, gasping as he breaks into another fit of giggles. “How can I not?” He rubs his hand over his face, winded as he looks up at you, red eyes shining.
“What? Say that again? One more time for the audience in the back.” It’s meant to be an innocent tease, but for some reason, it sparks a knee-jerk wide-eyed reaction from him as a simple word slips from the depths of his very soul.
“Shit.”
“What?” You repeat, squinting at him. “What you just said, right? Going on about how I’m so lova—”
He begins to bounce restlessly in place, words coming out harsh and forced. “I didn’t say that.”
“Are you seriously trying to gaslight me? In broad daylight?”
“No. That was just a normal thing, you’re making it weird. Geez.” His iconic smirk warbles and it almost seems as if the heart over his eye begins to grow runny.
“What does that even mean?”
“Definitely not what you’re thinking.”
“Ace.” His whole body is flushing. It’s enough that you can make it out from his ears to the sliver of skin at his wrist. “Look at me.” He refuses, half a second from booking it. “Do you—”
Then, suddenly filled with resolve, he faces you properly... only to cup your cheeks and squish them together between his palms. “Ooooh we’re never going to talk about this! Let’s move on~” The voiceover is the worst that you’ve ever heard, high and lilted with fear and cheap falsettos.
The sound of your palms practically patty-caking Ace’s face into a sandwich bounces against the statues of the Seven surrounding you (what a familiar place). He winces but doesn’t let go as you two proceed to stand in an awkward, competitive deadlock. “I’m not letting go until you tell me what’s up.” You manage through squished lips.
“You’re annoying.” He grits his teeth in irritation, staring straight at your forehead like he was weighing the outcome of embarrassment and pain if he head-banged you and ran.
“No, you.”
“You’re such a kid.” Ace wiggles under your grip, attempting to escape only to fail to your stubbornness. “It took you this long to notice my feelings? Sevens, how dense can you get?”
You roll your eyes. “If you want to actually go out, the offer is about to expire in approximately three seconds.”
“Wait.” His grip slackens.
“Three...” You begin counting. “You’re kidding me.” His lips twitch, throat bobbing as panic begins to settle in.
“You’re not going to really make me—” You finish off in a singular breath. “Twoone.”
“Wait, that’s cheating—hold up!”
“Should’ve confessed your undying love for me.”
“You’re the worst. You’re literally the absolute worst.” His thumb traces hearts on your cheekbones, words coming out breathless as the tension finally drops from his body. “Is this what you do? Play with a poor man’s feelings? Heart breaker much?”
“Yeah yeah, let me go and hold my hand already.” He obliges, shaking his head disbelievingly as his fingers come down to intertwine with your own. His grip is tight, assured this time as his pulse drums loud and steady against your wrist. Without a word, he squeezes your hand, just once, unabashed affection making itself fully apparent with your permission.
Though, you only get four steps ahead before Ace interrupts, “You had a crush on me? That’s embarrassing.”
“Oh my God. I can’t believe I’m going to break up with you already.”
“Too late. You signed the contract, breaking it involves a fee of seven million madols by tomorrow.”
“Did I? Did I really? You didn’t even ask me out yet.”
With his free hand, he crosses his thumb and pointer, winking at you as he brings your interlocked hands up and presses a kiss to them. “Milad—”
“No.” He snorts, dropping it to swing your hands.
You see his mouth move, and the possibility occurs to you that maybe, for once in this lifetime, he’s about to say something profound. What comes out instead is: “Wouldn’t it be funny if we pretended we weren’t? Dating, I mean. Just for a week.” The grip on your hand gets tighter as he quickly backtracks, bothered. ”We’re still going to date afterward—no it’s non-negotiable—but I bet the guys wouldn’t notice a thing out of place.”
“Why?” Wasn’t Ace the type to hold it over their heads? Or, at the least, take the opportunity to be obnoxious about it?
“They’re the types who won’t notice even if you write it on their foreheads.” Reward of the year for I-Love-My-Friends goes to Ace Trappola, without a doubt. “Wanna see if they have a chance of noticing if we don’t tell them outright.”
You think about it for a moment, “Bet you’re gonna be the first one to expose yourself.”
“Says you.” He takes the opportunity to lean into you, lanky arms taking up space at your sides. “I’ll even bet Deuce on it.”
Not very far off in the distance, Deuce sneezes into his arm (properly! just like his mom had told him). “Ah, am I getting sick...?”
14:30 [ ace ]: “miss me?”
"What? Need me to say I do?” There’s an airy sort of tease to your tone, feather-light as it drifts down the empty halls. ”Down bad much?"
It’s entirely by accident that Jack—of all people—manages to overhear you as he scrambles to adjust his hold on a stack of boxes dangling precariously off of his arms. Did he just hear that correctly? The Ramshackle Prefect having a private conversation with... family (well, that doesn't make any sense considering your circumstances)? A long-distance friend...? Possibly?
“That’s not a no.” A lover?
“Loser, why wouldn’t I miss you?" His ears flatten with embarrassment, mentally cursing himself for having such good hearing as he presses his shoulder flat into the wall—a feeble attempt to stabilize the boxes. It worked, only temporarily, to slightly balance the cardboard already determined to give him several concussions.
After all, it’s not as if he could help the size of his ears or what they just happen to catch. It wasn’t like he meant to eavesdrop, especially on what seemed like such a private conversation. If he wasn't pressed for time or currently violating OSHA regulations, he would’ve absolutely upped and turned around to leave you to your privacy. You know... to be a good friend. But life (whoever said it was lemons didn’t consider it could be entire box fulls) was working against him. Dorm meetings, teacher favors, and the weight of the world practically rested in the room beyond—with you being the unintentional final boss blocking his way.
Whoever is on the other end seems to mirror his embarrassment, although for entirely different reasons. "Wow. It's almost like you like like me." The voice cracks, tinged pink as it trails off into a pathetic warble of a comeback.
"I mean... yeah? Isn't that obvious?"
The poor person on the other end starts to choke, "That's fucking cheesy." To each their own, but that sentiment was sweeter than it was cringe... at least, it was in Jack’s opinion.
Suddenly, something tips from a box and lands squarely on his head—right between his ears. The jarring sensation sends a jolt through him, lightning quick, and makes all his brain cells freeze to one singular thought: Wait. Like? Like... like? Can’t be. You literally said otherwise yesterday at lunch.
It was unclear how it exactly got from point “quit that, give my food back” to point “you ever think you’ll find someone here?” He really didn’t have any intentions, it was an absent-minded question. Really. But to say he wasn’t actually curious of your thoughts would be a complete lie.
“Relationships? At our NRC? Less likely than you think.” A fork hung from your mouth, suspended in your sarcasm. He distinctly remembers you squinting at him, huffing as your arms come out to gesture to the rest of the students surrounding you.
The fireplaces have exploded. A torrent of magic, roof high and smoldering, blazes unmercifully across students unfortunate enough to be close. There’s screaming. An entire portion of a half-eaten (and now charred) pastry lands directly on your lap. Someone breaks a window.
...All because a stray fire fairy in the kitchen got slop thrown on it.
Your brow goes even higher as if to further contest his comment.
Fair enough. Jack had thought, handing you a napkin and ending the conversation at exactly that.
Did you suddenly change your stance? Was romance blossoming right under his nose?
And... doesn't that voice sound kind of familiar?
“Like you don’t like it.” He hears you laugh sweetly, “You gonna break my poor heart and pretend otherwise?” He can hear something akin to muffled cursing on the other end of the phone, rising in pitch, denial, and excuses. ”Eh? Did he hang up...?”
There’s absolutely no way for him to prepare for the sequence of knob to hand to sheer, unadulterated pain as the door slams wide open and straight into your eavesdropper. "Jack?!"
Despite all his mental prayers to the Seven and a desperate grip, the boxes are knocked straight onto him and the floor, scattering an assortment of odd trinkets all over the ground. "Tsk—!" A broken bottle filled with some type of odd oil quickly spreads across the floors, making you both slip around and tumble until your knees pathetically hit the floor "Ow!"
“Jack... what the hell is this?”
Given up, no longer thriving, and lying face-down in the middle of the hall, Jack huffs out, “potion materials for Crewel.” His words come out loopy and muffled with a bit of a haze to them as his arm reaches forward and attempts to grab an orb spinning its way down the hall. He misses by just a hair and grunts in frustration as he begins to push himself up. “Were you...” He starts before abruptly stopping himself, that’s none of my business.
You snatch up a stray pen rolling away on the floor and toss it into a box. “What were you saying?”
“Nothing.” He dismisses you with a shake of his head, clearing away some of the earlier haze. ”I just need to get into that room.”
“...Oh!” You have to avoid grimacing or slipping as the oil seeps into your clothes, but gingerly the two of you slowly manage to become upright once again. “Here, let me help then.” He beams at you in appreciation as the both of you make quick work of the scattered materials. Recovering what you can of several broken bottles, everything gets put back into place and Jack is sent back on his merry way to his dorm—only a minute pressed for time.
When he arrives, out of breath and with shirt sleeves stained olive oil yellow, Jack groans, unable to hold back his immense disappointment. Was the whole catastrophe earlier for nothing? Were they really having a dorm meeting about someone making “snowmen” out of people’s shedding?
Pause. Wait. That is really weird.
Several Savanaclaw students squabble, pointing fingers at each other while Leona lazily watches on uninterested. Jack begins to astrally ascend out of sheer disbelief, scuffing his foot into the floor as someone attempts to sneak away—only to have multiple shoes thrown at their head. Loud conversation floats vaguely in and out of his head, but something much more pressing catches his attention. The Prefect dating someone... couldn’t be, I’m overthinking it.
📞 [ call ended ]
Somewhere, on the other end of a phone, a certain someone throws an arm over his face now burned crimson—his thumb still hovering right where the screen blinks your name. "Fuck, didn’t mean to hang up but...” He slumps down further over his desk, wanting to melt in shame. “At least it's over phone, but argh—! This is lame." He drags his hand down his face, internally debating if he should jump out the window or just call you back.
“Ace. Your phone. Now.” Trein’s voice echoed from the front of the detention classroom.
Shit.
Epel makes a face like he's swallowed an entire handful of sour cherries. "What's got you looking at your phone so much?"
Your fingers stop over the keyboard, "Uh." With a very deep gravity, as if the answer was something he couldn't afford to hear, you reply in the gravest tone possible, "Your mom."
You practically have to throw your body out of the way to avoid the round-house kick Epel aims at your head.
You're out shopping together, juggling the assortments that you've gotten from Sage Island’s most popular tourist spots. With your hands full and mouth muffled by a snack, you order, "Camf fu sorch up wheof the fefenal," yeah, he has no clue what you're saying, "onmf phon?"
Phone. Got it. He digs your phone from your pocket and, with much difficulty, swipes it open after nearly butchering your passcode to lock point. "For Seven's sake, put yer snack down already and properly speak!" He grumbles, grabbing your thumb and pressing it to your phone to open the damn thing up and search the location for... fefenal?
Though, as he types it up, your past searches float and bubble up.
> why does my cat keep drooling on me
> if i boil an egg in gatorade does it taste like gatorade
> date spots
Cause yer cat loves ya dumbass... why in the Sevens would you even think about that... wait. Wait. Date spots? He looks at you, then at himself in a shop mirror, then back at you. No... you wouldn't force someone to spend hours debating fruit freshness for a date... right? Though, to be very fair, he was good at telling which fruit was ripe and the tastiest. But you'd do better than that for a date, right?
"What were you looking for again?"
Finally, you answer him with a clear mouth. "General store." He gives you a weird look when you return a "what?"
"...Wouldja go on a date for fruit?"
"...Huh?"
"Nevermind."
"I mean—" Suddenly, a notification flashes across your screen. "tomorrow at noon, right?"
"Huh?" You repeat.
Epel simply shakes his head, "Clown emoji... second place emoji? Just texted you that and n’ a bunch of flame emojis." You look at him confused. "...One of the hearts is on fire?"
"Oh... Oh! Can you send back an image from my gallery?" He obliges and looks through the first five images.
"What the fuck is this."
"Don't worry."
"Whose mouth is this? Why do you have 15 photos of the inside of someone's mouth?!"
"Floyd."
"Ah." Makes sense. He sends the grossest one. A ping later and he instantly sees... a chin photo of Vil? Epel snorts, barreling down as he chuckles louder. "Pfta! Haha! Like this? Serves 'em right to look ugly for a change!"
"Hold up, lemme see." You lean over and start to snort too, "What do you mean? He looks really good right there."
"Don't kid! He’d kill ya if he saw this!"
"Never!" As the two of you absolutely rag on Vil (lovingly... probably) and proceed with your day, the thought that had begun worming its way into Epel's mind lingers even as the both of you miserably pile crates of apples into a carriage: could’ve sworn the number under that stupid nickname seemed familiar... and what’s with that search history?
It’s horrible that such a nice sort of day was spent preparing for the next interim level of Hell that Trein deemed fit to sentence everyone to during a lovely week that truly didn’t deserve such misery. After all, there was really only one way to make any possible preparations for the upcoming onslaught...
Studying. Oh, the… horror.
It was the three of you in preparation for Magical Analysis. Sure, Sebek and Ace seemed to have a knack for it, but it was a different matter altogether to apply it in practical form with a group.
Squabbling amongst yourselves, Ace, out of air from arguing, falls back onto you with a grumble. “Sheesh, it’d be so much easier if you just did it this way y’know.”
“And stoop to rewriting the work of an upperclassman’s past project? Of course, humans wouldn’t have any understanding of what dignity might mean.” His prattling continues as he sweeps his pencil over a scrap piece of paper in frustration. “Nevertheless, integrity.” Wow, he was really taking it out on that miserable little pencil—the eraser gone to the metal line.
Ace rolls his eyes and looks at you. Knowing him better than anyone, you can tell he wants to ditch or at least shovel more work unto Sebek in unwarranted revenge. Without even bothering to hide it, he mouths to you, “C’mon, if he wants to be so righteous, he can do this damn project himself.” You kick him under the table, but he easily defends himself with the flat of his shoe. “Loser.” He taunts, low enough for you to barely catch it.
Oh? So, it’s like that today.
By the time Sebek actually notices is when you finally go silent. He turns his head up in confusion to see your face fluster and Ace looking at you with smug victory that Sebek mistakes for rivalry. "Hmph! Children! Are you so dependent on one another that you can't separate?" Sebek grunts, peering under the table to where Ace's hand rests squarely on your calf, dipping under the fabric to firmly stop your attacks against his stomach as your legs—practically in his lap—kick at him to let you go.
Your voices reach him in almost perfect sync,
"Something like that."
"I’m twice the man he could ever be...!"
Sebek only scoffs and tears another sheet of blank paper out. “That simply proves my point. Two idiots make a pair.”
Ace snorts, pressing deeper into your leg to tip you slightly onto the ground. On instinct, you reach out, grabbing onto his neck in what would seem like a romantic interaction if it didn’t jerk his head and cause him to nose dive down straight onto the table. “Fuck!”
“Sorry! Shit, you okay?” You fuss over him, patting his face and forehead despite his wincing.
“If you really felt bad, you wouldn’t be smirking.”
“Oops, was I?”
He sulks and leans closer to you, reveling in the pampered treatment for a minute more... until he pulls out your chair and unceremoniously nearly drops you to the floor before childishly catching you last minute. “Ace!”
Sebek, exasperated, watches this all with a sigh, he wasn’t ever going to get anything done with you two, huh?
....But to his surprise, you guys do make timely work somehow and manage to finish everything with time to spare. Sebek doesn’t even give a second thought to your shenanigans nor how close the two of you were, opting to think: Seven, they’re idiots, completely unaware of Ace sneaking a kiss to your forehead in cheeky revenge.
Deuce pauses, sniffing the air. "What smells like cherries?" Unconsciously, he brings his shirt up to his nose, double-checking himself as he sniffs the collar of his shirt. “Do you smell it too?”
"We're in the middle of the Gym, there’s a lot more smells than that,” you reply absent-mindedly. A ball idly rolls by your foot, remnants of the game only a couple minutes prior before the two of you were forcefully assigned cleanup duty. ”Maybe you smell something from the cafeteria?"
"It's not that." His hands squeeze around a basketball, confidence assured in his words as he spins it around in his hands. "The cafeteria doesn't serve cherries on Wednesday. That’s a Friday thing."
"Huh, really? Is that why Ace always drags us to eat there then?"
"Yeah, you never noticed?" He turns back, genuinely curious as he watches your reaction. "That's why he always gets so excited."
"I mean, we always eat cherry stuff every other Unbirthday though? Which is like, literally, almost every other day of the week. Don't know why he'd get so amped at the cafe."
"Maybe it tastes better...?"
"Better than Trey's?"
"Hmm..."
As the two of you ponder, Deuce's eyes settle on your jacket. “Huh? Where’d you get a Heartslabyul varsity from?”
“Stole it,” you say simply, much to the baffled—near horrified—expression that dawns on Deuce’s face. “C’mon, you think I stole it from Riddle or something?” He looks so stressed that you’d even suggest something so terrifying that he almost stops breathing. “Deuce! No! Think.”
“...Diamond-senpai...? He’s nice enough?”
“I mean, I do have some clips he’s given me. But no.”
“Clover-senpai? Maybe?”
“Wouldn’t it be bigger?” He squeezes his eyes shut, using all of the power in his singular brain cell to come up with answers—but to no avail, even as you walk away to grab a broom. It takes him until another class change that, when you finally leave the locker room and you’re bending down to retie your shoes, Deuce rushes to you to boldly and confidently announce, “ACE!”
“Took you long enough,” you sigh, rolling up your sleeves as the sun beats down hard. “Speaking of, lemme text him that we’re done.” You pull out your phone to go into your recents, a long log of clown emojis filling it. Eh...? It seemed like you called a... clown a lot? Did you get something with the circus? Before he can ask, a clown emoji pops up on the screen. “Speak of the devil.”
“Wait. Am I a clown on your phone?”
“Maybe.”
“Hey!” He looks to you, pleading for confirmation. “I am? Really?”
“I would never...! Probably.” You maneuver the phone to your ear where inaudible sounds from the phone continue, vaguely the cadence of ranting. “Oh, hold up, he’s asking me to meet him. I’ll see you later, Deuce.”
"The clown...?" He watches you go in confusion, mind spinning as he thinks about clowns and, weirdly enough, a recent complaint Ace had about missing clothes. He remembers a wry, affectionate smile on his face as he shut his closet doors and sighed. It wasn’t like him to lose things and he seemed to know who took them. So... really, that guy relented enough to let you borrow something from him? He grimaced at the memory of Ace letting him walk around with his bright pink leopard print jacket, jabbing him without mercy.
Well, whatever. You guys were all best friends after all. It wasn’t a big deal anyway. Maybe you’d ask to borrow Deuce’s leopard print soon.
It is of the utmost importance that the highest council come together... for a sleepover to watch the latest horror movie that had appeared in home theaters. But, more than that, there was an immediate emergency of the highest level that needed to be addressed: drama. The tea needed to be prepped, served and spilled.
Or so Epel spits out (albeit in a much rougher manner), lifting his shoulders high in the air like he was ready to start his villain marketing monologue. "Is it just me or has the Prefect been weird lately? Not weird weird or nothin’, just that... ugh!" He shifts his eyes around, getting quieter with each frustrated syllable. Despite the fact that you were gone for a quick snack run, it still felt wrong to gossip in your house... place… dilapidated building. But he desperately needed to know he wasn’t going crazy.
"Really? They seem the same as ever to me.” Deuce chimes in, balancing a bowl of popcorn on his leg as he mindlessly picks off burnt pieces lining the top.
"They were searching some weird stuff—" Unconvinced, Epel spins toward Jack, gesturing to him and waiting like he knew the answer. "Ya think they're... fancying someone?"
“It’s their private business.” Jack settles firmly, replying with what he deemed as a solid, mature, and impartial response. “I’m sure that the Prefect isn’t interested anyway. Night Raven College is far too chaotic for romance.”
“Well, if that’s the case, then why’d the Prefect search up somethin' like date spots? Huh? What’d ya got to say about that?”
“If you’re on Sage Island, date spots are practically the equivalent to tourist spots. Maybe they’re looking for nice places. Don’t overthink it, Epel.”
Epel, more worked up than ever, smashes his hand into a bowl of gummies, stuffs them all in his mouth, and viciously proclaims in one go: “Then why’re they texting so much! Huh? Huh?!”
“...That’s just texting?”
“I think they made a clown friend,” Deuce unhelpfully adds. “I saw them calling a clown emoji a lot.”
“It was a clown emoji...” A lightbulb goes off in Epel’s head as he slams the table in front of him, shaking off bits of popcorn onto the floor that causes Sebek to promptly scowl. “Don’t do that to the popcorn!”
“Oh, shut yer trap. Big talk from someone who’s not helpin’ anyway.” Epel huffs, but leans down and scoops the pieces off of the floor, popping them into his mouth without a second thought. The jab works well enough though as Sebek straightens up, a twitch on his forehead.
“On the contrary,” he begins, voice loud and booming at a decibel that makes everyone wince, “they’re too focused on playing to be dating. When I worked with them and Ace, they were lolly-gagging around without a care! If they’re going to bother dating someone, it’d be Ace and we’d all know already.”
Everyone but Jack nods in agreement. Imagining the Prefect and Ace, of all people, dating? Nah. They’d seen you fill his shoes with spaghetti sauce once because he used up all your salt and left the container. It just... didn’t seem like you had that kind of relationship. "True, I really only see 'em with Ace all the time, maybe he’d know something?"
On the other side of the couch, Jack frowns, opens his mouth, and then promptly decides to close it as he quietly surveys the scene with a pensive, furrowed brow.
There’s a clue now, a distinct, visible connection: Clowns. Of course, it had to either be a potential relationship or your career plans. “But about that clown emoji... I think I remember the number.” It’s gotta be the former, Epel decides. If it was the latter, wouldn’t you have tried honking your nose or something? "I’m gonna call it."
Jack puts his face into his hands, having a moral crisis as he mumbles, “...wouldn’t they think that you’re a spam number?”
“Doesn’t hurt to try,” Epel pops another kernel into his mouth as he chews it in thought. “Think it had a triple seven in it somewhere...” He slowly mashes a key string of numbers together, erases, retypes, cusses.
Peering over Epel’s shoulder, unable to hide his curiosity, Deuce points out, "Isn’t the first bit the Kingdom of Hearts area code? Are you sure you remember the right code?"
“How would the Prefect know someone from the Kingdom of Roses outside of NRC?” Sebek muses aloud, unable to help himself either.
"Shouldn't we respect the Prefect's privacy?" Jack attempts once more, seeming as if he was shrinking with every busy tone Epel got stopped at. Yet, he continues to be ignored as Epel only calls the number again... and again... and again. "Hey... it's not our business."
"I got it damn it!" Stronger than any military man, Epel, the lone soldier, continues to push forward in his self-made journey. "Just give me a bit!" He keeps typing away, accidentally calling up a pizza place that makes everyone collectively groan. "C’mon, I’ve just about got it."
"Even if the Prefect were hypothetically in a relationship. Okay. Courting takes much time and requires a substantial amount of effort and persistence. I have not seen hair nor signs of lovestruck gooey eyes. Trust me, my parents are disgustingly in love. I would know." The scowl on Sebek’s face deepens, "we would've caught the Prefect by now!"
Deuce startles up, wide-eyed and mouth gaping as he blankly stares at everyone in pure shock, “WAIT... what? The Prefect is dating someone?"
"It took you this long?"
"WHO?!" Sevens help him, Jack was going to come home with premature wrinkles at the age of 16.
After about ten minutes of furious tapping, Epel’s thumb slips over the worn keypad and lands on one. His eyes, hazed over in delirium, border madness as he maniacally shakes his phone in victory. "Got it! This is it! Didja see that one?!"
"You sure? Pretty sure your thumb just..."
"I swear if you try sayin’ somethin’ silly, I’m gonna take my—"
"Then... why's Ace coming up on the screen?"
"Huh?" He erases, squeezes his eyes really hard, and types in the number that he sees in his head again.
It's Ace.
“Nah, that doesn't make sense.” Epel sounds nearly hysterical at this point. He calls again and goes straight to a cheery-toned voicemail that mocks everything Epel had ever known.
Unaware of the literal red swirling in Epel’s eyes, Deuce, having calmed down, happily nods with complete confidence, "Oh, it's probably auto-corrected to his number.”
“Phones do that?”
“...Maybe?”
Epel furiously spams the number anyway, not caring even if it was Ace. His frustrations were immeasurable, reaching an all-time new high. The levels were exceedingly dangerous, beyond over blotting with only one possible outlet it could vent to: Ace’s phone (and his dumb voicemail). In an effort to somehow abate Epel’s rage, Deuce gently puts his phone down and makes his own attempts at calling the number. "Maybe your phone is wrong, let me try from mine." Sebek, who looks very lost, does so too.
Through very pointed, timed coughs, Jack taps the table to get everyone's attention. “...ack. The Prefect should—uheum—return any minute now.” However, being the group of idiots that they are, it only brings about a different change, somehow switching to the topic of who it could possibly be.
"Grim?" The little guy wasn’t around, somehow off meandering for the day or sleeping the evening away somewhere else in the dorm. "Maybe the Prefect's upped their pet pampering. Something like he’s being a grouch and they're having to give him more attention than usual."
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the Prefect succumbed to giving Grim a phone.” Would paw pads work on a phone screen though?
The answers quickly devolve, becoming more ludicrous as Epel casually brushes away Grim's possibility. "Think about it seriously won’t ya? If the Prefect is in love... No, Jack’s right—that wouldn’t make a lick of sense with...” He waves his hand vaguely around at the comfortable but still dilapidated state of Ramshackle. “What if the Prefect’s possessed? Having to step through life fulfilling the sad, unrequited love of a ghost..." It wasn’t as if the events of the whole ghost bride shenanigans were all that far away anymore—quite literally living in the walls of NRC. It was just yesterday that Idia, out of all people, was, for once, the most eligible bachelor of all the lands.
“Wasn’t that whole deal done and over with already?”
“Hm. Probably.” Epel concedes, still vaguely worried.
Sebek leaned forward on his knees, a perfect replica of The Thinker as he genuinely considered the possibilities. "I think... If we haven’t caught them, then it has to be someone who doesn’t go to the NRC. Perhaps it’s someone from RSA?”
“Like Neige?”
“Or, do you think it could—”
"Or maybe... you guys need to learn to quit it!" Ace, missing from the scene, all but tackles Epel as he shoves his phone directly into his face.
"It's important!" Despite his face mushed into a phone screen, Epel doesn’t hesitate to immediately throw fists as he scrabbles to knee the intruder. "We think the Prefect is datin’ someone and keeping it a secret!"
A look of complete incredulity passes over Ace's face. He momentarily stops squishing his phone into Epel’s forehead, twists his eyebrows, and then smoothly says with a shit-eating grin, "Yeah, you notice it too?
"SEE, I wasn’t goin’ crazy!" All is forgiven. Friendship? Restored. Epel, more than happy to present the evidence, drops his fists to recount the facts index to pinky. “They’ve been on the phone non-stop with someone.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s super suspicious. I bet they’re giggling and kicking their feet too.” Ace, grabbing a handful of Deuce’s popcorn with his other hand, pops it into his mouth and blinks doeishly while twirling his hair. “What else? Catch them making lovestruck eyes? Swooning? Are they writing love letters?”
“No. That’s the weird part.” Epel gets to his pinky, souring as he recollects your latest actions. “Searching up date spots...”
“Hm, really?” Ace, no remorse, continues to be a complete asshole, liar, and gaslighter. "Look, I think the cards are all on the table. The Prefect is head over heels no doubt. Sound agreement. Completely agree." He grounds his feet and pushes forward, back to his phone-spam vengeance mission, but Epel doesn’t budge. His resolve is only strengthened by sheer willpower and probably far too much adrenaline as he attempts to sock Ace directly in the throat.
Much to his chagrin, Ace dances out of the way snickering “sucker!” But the bated breaths of stars and divine karma decide, hey this guy’s a little too full of himself, and shake loose the grip on his phone.
“Oh shit.” It happens in slow motion, the cherry-colored phone spinning round and round until it slots perfectly in the middle of the table for all to see two perfectly immaculate coincidences appear. Ace’s phone opens—a beacon of undeniable guilt—to a sweet, innocent lock screen of him pressing a kiss to your cheek... in his varsity. Then, if that wasn’t enough, your conveniently timed texts appear, rendering Ace to repeat solemnly to himself, “Oh shit.”
18:16 [ y/n ]: hey can you open the door my hands are full
18:22 [ y/n ]: like. right now
18:22 [ y/n ]: you LEAVE prefect? you leave me in the cold? oh! oh! jail for boyfriend! jail for the worst boyfriend for One Thousand Years!
18:22 [ y/n ]: wait i didn’t mean it
18:28 [ y/n ]: babygirl please
Deuce can scarcely believe his eyes, barely registering the texts or the lock screen as he utters out a single, profound word torn out from the deepest depths of his soul. "WHAT."
Sebek, not registering the picture, reacts point-blank. "Did the Prefect call you babygirl?"
The most ardently passionate Epel stares and processes the new evidence quietly, “wait...” It clicks. “IT WAS YOU.”
"It was obvious guys..." From the very start, Sebek had even accidentally guessed it.
"YOU'RE DATING THE PREFECT?!" Et Tu, Ace? Just like this? Deuce had never felt such betrayal, never like this before. Such... deception!
"WHAT," Sebek’s voice steadily gets louder to match everyone else, baffled by the turn of events. “WHAT DOES BABYGIRL MEAN?”
Not knowing what to do with his hands or rage, Epel begins to put Ace into a headlock.
Jack leaves the room in second-hand embarrassment.
Ace, tongue in cheek and barely able to hold in his laughter, allows himself to be manhandled—but not without chaos. "Um? You didn't know? Wasn't it obvious?" He gives Sebek a smug smile in particular, "Didn't you catch my hands literally under their clothes?"
Sebek gawks, turning bright red as he flails, "ISN'T THAT NORMAL FOR YOU GUYS?"
The pieces all come together. It was the footsies in your study session, the recognizable jacket during gym, an eavesdropped conversation, a much-too-revealing search history.
It’s you finally coming in with the snacks—carefree as ever—opening the door with an "I'm back!" to only be blasted by a chorus of "YOU'RE DATING ACE?"
You blink. The snacks drop. You’re out the door.
Jack reappears to pick up the snacks while Deuce knocks over the table and falls to the floor as Epel flies over his head to give chase—barraging you with questions of “Since when?!” and ”Why are you running?!”
"It's only been a week!" This little man is chasing you so fast oh my God how is he so fast. “Stop chasing me!”
Deuce finally breaks out of his stupor to go, "Now, wait just a minute...!" and slams his head up into Sebek’s stomach where he chokes on the popcorn. The two first-years groan, rolling around on the ground and couch as Ace makes eye contact with Jack, shrugs, and runs to catch up to the distant screaming (you) and threats that most certainly break the Geneva Convention (Epel).
Well, more like a light, easy jog as he arrives to Epel finding a spare branch and full-on frisbeeing it at your head, fully intent on taking you down without care of any possible casualties. It was war. If this was how you went, death via a guy whose parents really thought it was a good idea to name their son Apple™, then you mentally decided all of your meager earnings as a janitor and de facto therapist at this cursed college would go to Jamil. Sevens knows he deserves it.
“Epel!” So worked up on adrenaline, Epel’s head instantly whips around to face Ace... only to realize his mistake a second later as you kick his knees in and run, Ace close behind as he passes by and tussles his hair for good measure.
“This isn’t over yet!” Epel hollars, cussing you two out with every name under the sun. “Y'all ain’t seen nothing yet, I swear when I get to you—”
Ace’s lips curl with mocking delight as he throws his head back and laughs from the rush of your moonlit escapade. “Yada yada, he’ll calm down eventually... probably.” He was this excited to dupe his friends? "Pfft... haha! Sheesh, took 'em long enough!" Ridiculous.
What a stupid, endearing idiot (your idiot). "Took you long enough. Where were you?" Ace’s hand is warm as it finds yours.
His timing is off by only a second before he replies, a little bit hopeful, “What? Miss me already?”
(Yes.)
You think, for a long moment, before reaching up and pressing a kiss underneath his jaw. “No.”
In response, Ace's hand squeezes your shoulder as he pulls you closer with a wide, genuine smile. “Liar.” Keeping you close as the two of you escape into the night, hand in hand.
♥♥
end a/n: hello! happy holidays!! i am also so late to the collab: i am so sorry—but i hope that this being longer makes up for it lmao. a lot has happened this year (not necessarily bad things!) but definitely. exhausting ones haha—so it made this piece really difficult to get out. BUT I DID IT. MA YA SEE THAT? I DID IT—so with all my heart, i sincerely hope that you enjoy this piece and maybe laughed a little. because ! that makes it all the more worth it! so, again, thank you for reading about this little foolish lil guy
#twisted wonderland#ace trappola#twisted wonderland x reader#ace trappola x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland imagines#twst#now to go lay down for a bazillion years#this is sincerely soooo much better to read on laptop#if you're reading on mobile i am. so sorry.
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what is up froods
lol i keep forgetting to like. actually write updates in my personal journal. i'm using this tumblr too much like a tumblr.
i went down a rabbit hole the other night in that i just opened my own archives and went back to 2013 and then realized i started this in 2011. i didn't say a lot, back then i definitely was still using my LJ for Big Personal Updates and Tumblr was exclusively for snappy shitposts, and then I abandoned the LJ and only blogged in snappy shitposts for a while, and I did some vagueblogging that I genuinely have no idea what it was about, and that's fun.
But there's some. Boy there's some real fossils in there. God everything stays the same but everything happens so much.
I know I've backed up this blog but IDK how much you can make it make sense, offline. Anyway. That's how it goes. I'm not in any kind of existential panic about the site I'm just reacting to the zeigeist here, it made me think of old times.
I go back to the farm in a couple of weeks-- just for a couple of weeks, but the Season is Starting. My physical therapist keeps giving me more exercises. She's right, my core strength is wretched, but when I said I'd tried to do crunches now and then, tried to stay a tiny bit fit but-- she was like omg no you can't do crunches, with that hip cartilage as it is, so I felt a little better. So she's teaching me what I *can* do, and the important thing is that she's like you cannot do this more than every other day or three times a week, you cannot rush this kind of thing, and it's wonderful advice contrary to all the other advice I've ever had in my life which was like every moment you're not doing more work you're being a lazy shit. So, that's nice. I'll cut because nothing else here is going to be interesting.
I'm not the youngest person at physical therapy but there's a lot of old people there. I haven't been masking, I've been being lazy and just using xylitol nose spray before I go, and it's been fine, but I know that's just luck. (I see no one but Dude, who sees almost no one but me, so the consequences of fucking up would be minor.) with a trip to the farm coming up, I'm going to go back to masking, at least in the lead-up to the trip-- because last time I had COVID I had almost no symptoms, and nowadays apparently the rapid tests aren't super useful. The way I'm coping is, I know, a logical fallacy-- since COVID wasn't bad the one time I had it, I'm just telling myself I'm resistant naturally and it won't hurt me, and I know this is not the truth at all but it helps me cope-- but I cannot stand the thought of spreading it to someone who would be more hurt by it, so I have convinced myself not to fear catching it but to fear spreading it. I figure it's effectively the same and lets me not just be fucking terrified all the time.
I also discovered that a former employee of the farm who's out here going to college is interested in carpooling, and we've already got a tentative date for him to ride back with me on my way back from the farm at the end of March, and this has lightened my spirits a great deal. It's such a long drive and it feels like such a waste of gas, and he does have a car but it's not actually that safe to drive on the Thruway. (He swears up and down it's perfectly safe but just not at sustained speeds over 60. I was like omg kid do NOT, I will drive, my car is brand fkn new. He's taking the train home and will ride back with me.)
Let's see. Oh I don't think I've kept up with posting about the kitchen painting. It's down to the last tiny fiddly details, and what I've got to do is do a half-stencil in the corner above the door, and I did one half yesterday and will finish the rest today. I had to custom cut out a copy of part of the stencil to make it work, and it's sort of janky and I am going to have to hand-paint it with a lot of masking tape, but it's such a small area that like, why not, I can be that fussy. It's fine.
Once I finish that, which if I do part in the morning and part in the afternoon I can do today, then I can FINALLY CLEAN UP AND PUT AWAY all the painting detritus. I can't tell you how excited I am to do that.
I've also been doing fabric dyeing, finally. I collected several of the muslin garments I'd finished and meant to do something with, and got out my dyes. I did a batch of ice dye solely because I forgot which ones I'd intended to use for that; now I have a pair of slightly ill-fitting homemade leggings that look like a clown threw up on them, and a cheerful sweatshirt to match. i then used the runoff to dye the cream-colored canvas work smock-- I sort of tie-dyed it because I pasted up a little bit of two of the component colors and poured that on a couple areas that I then rubberbanded, because I wanted tie-dye but did not want any white areas left. So it's a blue/purple/red smock now, and the rainbow stitching I constructed it with was polyester so it's still rainbow, huzzah. Subtle and understated and also I can smear it with filth and maybe it will still look intentional.
[image description: a canvas work smock with big pockets, hanging to dry, mostly a mucky dark purple but with some brighter splotches of red and dark blue, and some bits of paler purple.]
[image description: assorted garments draped over drying racks in a sunporch, in blotchy shades of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, all kind of run together but not murky.]
And then I did another batch of ice dye, this time with the dyes I had bought that are supposed to work well for this because they split. That dress is still in the wash so I don't have pictures of how it turned out, but mostly it just looks splotchy green. LOL oh well. The point was, I made all these test garments in undyed fabric, but I don't have a lifestyle where I can wear a white dress, so now I have some non-white dresses I don't have to be precious about. Some of them I should now probably hem and like actually finish..........
I have one dress and one shirt left, and a pair of light-wash jeans I don't like wearing, and I'm thinking about trying like. Ombre or something. We'll see if I get around to that.
My sewing area is still a fuckin disaster and I don't want to think about it. But I'm cutting out a vest from scrap denim, I want a quilted abrasion-resistant washable work vest for farm work next week and I gotta get a move on. All I need now is to cut out the batting and get to it. So hopefully today.
I took photos, I might try writing up how-tos on the dyeing and on the repurposed denim stuff, but I also might not. If I was doing this again I would probably not bother with the ice, for the rainbow one. We'll see once the properly ice dyed dress comes out of this wash, I can hear the washer spinning but I'm trapped under Chita at the moment.
I missed this week's fic update because I'm progressing so slowly on both current active WIPs. I have a bunch written ahead in both, but each one has the back half of the current chapter just held up waiting for me to write them; I've overcome the structural decisions that delayed me, but I have to just sit and write them. And both of them are complicated scenes I've been waiting to write a long time, so I'm looking forward to writing them, and so like, paradoxically, can't make myself do it. Because once I've done it I'll have done it, see... anyway. Silly but there it is. I'll get through it once I decide I deserve that treat. I know! I know.
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A Gothic Cowboy
Agent Whiskey X Reader
Happy Valentine's Day @perotovar , I'm your secret Tumblr Valentine I tried my best to follow your prompts, please enjoy our Cowboy with a hint of Darkness <3
(Reader in my mind is in her early to mid 30s in this)
A dark castle looms over you, the violent wind of the storm swirling around you as you walk up the dark pathway, with each step you took the gravel crunch under your feet. The cool wind brushed passed your face, clinging onto the massive bouquet of red roses. “Okay this is the last delivery then book it back to the car” You mumble to yourself, walking up the cobblestone steps you looked around, the 16th century gothic style mansion was absolutely breath taking, finally reaching the door you see a massive rope, gathering its the door bell you pull it, a mass of bells ring out, you hear the noise echo throughout the entire house.
You stood there for about 10 minutes, before the door finally opened to a gorgeous man, his hair neatly combed back. “Hello I’m from the Silverbough Florist, I’m here to deliver the roses you ordered, you’re Mr Daniels?” Holding out the massive bouquet for him, he sighs as he opens the door wider to reveal him wearing a well fitted suit with several buttons undone, showing his chest with his tie undone.
“Shit I forgot I ordered those” He collected the roses from you, “You alright Mr Daniels? You seem unsettled” he looked into your eyes with a saddened smile, “Just found out my date decided to cancel on me” The dissapointment very evident in his voice, you were just about to speak back when a loud crack of lightning spread throughout the sky, the rain started to come down now practically partially drenching you, Jack pulls you by the arm and closed the door.
“Shit the storm hit pretty quickly, you alright Mi-” Jack turns to face you, your top half partially wet with droplets of water making its way dow your neck beneath your white shirt embroided work shirt clearly wet enough to see the colour of your bra, his eyes follow it down stopping him mid sentence “Mr Daniels eyes up here” his eyes snapped up from where they were staring from.
“Apologies Miss?”
“(Y/N)”
You smirk as his face turning lightly red, coughing while looking to the side to avoid your gaze. “Let me show you to the bathroom, so you can clean yourself off” Jack turns to lead you down the hall, looking at your legs he sees that they are also dirty due to the weather and you move your arms to rub your shoulders, just realising how cold you are.
You hum in agreement, "Yes please that would be lovely" you follow him down the hall until you reach a door. "This is the bathroom, please feel free to use anything in the shower" Opening the door he leads you in, shows you how to use the shower and where the towels are located. "I'll leave you to it Darlin' " He smiles kindly at you as he leaves closing the door behind him, he leans on the door and lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Fuck what have I gotten myself into" He walks down the hallway again towards the sitting room, going towards the alcohol shelf, pouring himself a glass of statesmen whiskey. His hand is shaking while holding the glass as he takes a sip, hoping the drink would calm his nerves of having a lady in the house. Sitting down he let's out a shaky sigh, rubbing his hands over his face "Why the fuck did I go on tinder, your 40 years old and get bloody roses for a one night stand" talking to himself as he's gotten used too over the years of being alone.
He finishes his whiskey, his knees cracking as he gets up from the leather chair. Walking into the grand dining room he sighs again at the site in front of him, he had gone all out tonight; gorgeous silver dinner set on the table, with multiple sets of cutlery on both sides of the plates surrounded by candles and rose petals scattered round.
"She must be a special lady for this romantic set up" Jack is startled by your sudden voice, he turns around to see you dressed in his massive fluffy robe, bare feet and damp hair, holding your even damper clothes bundled together.
"Sorry did I scare you" Your eyebrow raises slightly, his reaction being unexpected.
"No no not at all, its nice to see someone appreciate the dinner I put together" Jack walks towards you and holds his hands out to take your clothes, "Let me put these in the dryer for you, and please feel free to help yourself to the food set out on the table, it will go to waste otherwise" He shakes his head at his helplessness of needing company, wanting to please people.
"Oh don't worry it defiantly won't to to waste now" You grinned walking over to the table , sitting down you lift the silver dome from the plate to reveal the most deliciously appetising steak, drizzled with mushroom sauce with a side of glistening vegetables, which were sprinkled with herbs. Your mouth salivating at the sight, you spot the wine bottle and pour yourself a glass, "Ooooh red wine goes lovely with steak" you grin to yourself and dig in.
As soon as the steak hits your mouth, you moan out as the flavour bursts onto your tongue. "Shit this is so good" Jack walks in to see you devouring the steak, he grins at the simpleness of you eating, hearing you moan at the flavour breaks him a little, he clears his throat he looks towards you.
"What?" You ask chewing the last piece of steak.
"Nothing" He quickly says as you laugh softly, seeing him like this makes you feel warm somehow, "So what's the story" He sits down next to you, picking up his cutlery to start eating.
"This" he gestures to the dinner, "Is my attempt to get back into the dating game, my friend's made me a tinder and set me up" He starts cutting into his steak while you pour him a glass of red.
"Thank you" He smiles, looking into your eyes, the light from the candles shining off your face beautifully. "May I ask how long?" you take a sip of your wine as he responds
"About 10 years sexually?” Jack says as if it's common news, you choke on your drink.
"How your so attractive?!” You blurt out, not knowing how badly your words affected him, his hard ached at being called attractive. “Well being a reclusive rich divorcee affects your dating life” Your smile faded, looking around the dining room at how gorgeous the room was, realising how empty it must have been, there are no family photos or personal touches anywhere, making you realise how lonely he actually is.
“Mr Daniels-“ you started, “Please call me Jack” he interrupted as he continued to eat.
“Jack” Correcting yourself as you continued, “You put all this effort into dinner, massive roses and dressed up to the nines so you could get laid?” You press him, “I used to be so confident in myself, being rich and knowing I’d inherit this massive estate and run the ranch back in Texas, married my gorgeous wife, all for her to cheat on me” His faced crunched up as he continued.
“She called me a washed up cowboy, my confidence shaken a little, tried to date again only to be cheated on and called a washed up cowboy for a second time and left in the middle of dinner, haven’t put my Stetson back on since” he placed his knife and fork down.
“May have been some years apart, I feel like people forget I’ve got feelings” He chuckles to himself, “This is the most successful evening with a Lady I’ve had since then” He looks into your eyes, which are looking at him with an unreadable expression.
He watches you lean forward, your lips landing on his in a sweet kiss. His eyes go wide with his hands immediately grasping for your waist, you move to sit on his lap, he grips your thighs tight pulling your crotch onto his hardening bulge. You take charge rolling your hips, he moans out giving you the chance to slip your tongue into his mouth deepening the kiss.
He desperately grinds up to meet yours, his hands roaming your body, gripping you tightly as if you’d disappear. He breaks the kiss to moan out your name “(Y/N) Darlin’ your makin’ me hornier than a teenager, it’s been so long I may come from just this” You moan out at his confession.
“Fuck I’d find that hot” you start to kiss his neck, rolling your hips to emphasise your point, his groans spur you on. His hands reach for the tie of the robe your wearing, releasing it to show your body, top half naked, your breasts bouncing with the movement of your hips. His lips reach the nipple on one and fondles the other in his hand, the other gripping your arse, moving with your body. He rolls the nipple with his thumb while his tongue licks around the other.
You groan into his ear, grinding your pussy down, fastening the pace to chase your approaching orgasm. “Shit Jack don’t stop, I’m close!” Jack doesn’t relent, you grind especially hard triggering his orgasm, which breaks his concentration and makes him nip your nipple. The sharp pain brings you over the edge as well, following him in the ecstasy of pleasure.
You both pull away from each other, you both flushed and panting. “Darlin’ I can’t even put into words how good that felt” His arms gripped you tighter as he spoke his next words, “I-if you intend to leave, I won’t blame you” his voice wavers as he spoke, your next words stun him “Jack I may have just met you but I know I ain’t leaving until I feel that cock in me, plus the storm sounds like it’s going to last all night” you grin hopping off his lap, pulling on his hand to stand up.
“Besides I thought I saw your bedroom down the hall, please lead the way… I ain’t done with you yet” The look you gave him was pure lust, he leads you towards the bedroom. His room didn’t match the rest of the house, his personality shone through more, he sits down on the bed as you spy the Stenson on top of his dresser.
You grab it and put it on his head, sitting on him again. His breath is shaky as you speak your next words.
“I defiantly wanna see what this old cowboy can do” Your words stoked a fire that hadn’t been lit in a long time, he felt his confidence coming back, he flips you over, hooking your leg over his hip.
“Darlin’ I’ll show you exactly what this ol’ cowboy can do”
He smiled too himself realising he just broke his unlucky streak.
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DON'T LOOK DOWN -> the last of us
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi...so I'm absolutely losing my mind over this show. I have some friends who have played the game that are head over heels for it as well, but as someone who's never played, I'm SOLD. I'm in love with the world, with the characters, with the set design, EVERYTHING. Ever since I saw episode one I've had an idea rattling around in my head for an OC, so I did what I always do — come to Tumblr to flesh them out! I hope you enjoy this and please let me know if you do through comments or reblogs!! Remember that if you like a fic or any post for that matter, you should like and REBLOG it, because likes mean next to nothing. Support your fellow artists and spread the love!! Enjoy, my lovely readers <3
PAIRING: PLATONIC joel miller x fem!reader (I'm talking some SERIOUS found family stuff here) WARNINGS: Heavy use of guns and weapons, mentions of the apocalypse, DETAILED descriptions of violence, trauma, and death. Family member death. I definitely sobbed while writing this SUMMARY: After losing her family and getting found by the Fireflies, Y/n goes with Ellie and Joel on a treacherous journey to Salt Lake City.
"I spy with my little eye...something blue."
"Is it the sky?"
"No, dipshit, that's too obvious." Ellie said with an eye roll.
Y/n just scoffed, shaking her head. "Joel, you got any ideas?"
"How 'bout we start with making this the last round of this game?" he said gruffly. Ellie just gave him a glare and muttered something about him being a killjoy underneath her breath. Joel cleared his throat, looking around them — the open field to the left, the forest to the right. "You got me."
Ellie groaned, her head dropping. "It was Y/n's backpack, duh." she said. "Which, I'd like to add, has two guns in it. Not one. Two."
"Cause I actually know how to use them, genius." Y/n replied. "I'm kind of shit at aiming, but I can't point and shoot until the cows come home. If there's one good thing about the apocalypse, it's that it taught me some basic life skills really damn fast.
"Aren't you from Arizona? Hunting season's pretty much year-round down there. Didn't your dad take you out hunting or something?" Joel asked.
At those words, something in Y/n's eyes glazed over. "No. No he didn't." she said, her voice flat. After a moment, she sniffed and rubbed at her nose, turning her head away so as not to let them notice. But Joel saw. She coughed. "Come on, we should pick up the pace if we want to make it to Bill's by sundown."
With that, she sped up until she was walking a good ten feet in front of them. Joel watched her with confusion, which Ellie noted.
"She does that when she doesn't want anyone to see her cry," she explained quietly. "She's got some rough family stories."
"We all do." Joel replied.
But Ellie just shook her head, glancing back at Y/n. "Not like hers."
Ellie and Y/n huddled behind the hole in the wall, listening to the sounds of gunfire come and go. Pop, pop. Silence. Pop. Y/n could barely stand it. She flinched at the familiar sound of gunfire now.
Y/n popped out above from hers and Ellie's hideout and fired a few times into the open, not sticking around to see if she'd actually hit one of their attackers. She always figured it was better if she didn't know. Based on the number of shots coming from their end, she could tell that Joel was wildly outnumbered. They weren't FEDRA or Fireflies, but they had a big enough group to overwhelm one man. Glass shattered as a bullet from the other side shattered through the truck's windshield. Y/n peeked out as glass rained down on Joel. He was alone as the enemy approached. And Y/n couldn't let that happen.
Joel carefully made his way to the other side of the truck as someone stepped in through the obliterated doorway of the laundromat. Glass crunched under his feet. Every step he took brought him closer and closer to discovering Joel. They were running out of time.
Y/n turned to Ellie suddenly, startling her. She put her hands on either sides of Ellie's face, looking at her with an expression so serious that she knew it was in her own best interest to shut the hell up. "Listen to me, you need to stay here. Don't get up. Don't move. Don't even think about it. Don't get a bright idea and try to play hero, alright?"
Ellie gave a quick nod and Y/n stooped down, unzipping her backpack as quietly as she could and pulling out one of her pistols. She began to creep to the hole in the wall, but Ellie grabbed her sleeve before she could come into view. "What are you doing?"
Y/n turned back, trying not to let the fear coursing through her show to the younger girl. "I got a bright idea."
Y/n crept carefully through the hole in the wall as the man stepped closer towards Joel's hiding place. She held her breath, both hands wrapped around the pistol, her pointer finger on the trigger.
Crunch.
The man wheeled around, and Y/n, caught off-guard, abandoned the gun, placing a strong kick to the man's stomach. He stumbled back and the gunfire resumed, stronger now than ever. Joel used this moment to leap out of his hiding spot, jamming the butt of his rifle into the back of the man's head. He crumpled on the spot, blood pouring from the point of impact.
"I told you to stay there." Joel said angrily.
"I don't listen." Y/n said. A single gunshot whizzed past them and they crouched down to avoid it.
"If you go leaping into open fire, what's to stop Ellie from doing the same, huh?"
"She wouldn't follow me out here."
"How do you know?"
"Because I told her not to."
"I told you not to. And you didn't listen." Joel said, reaching up to fire. There was a yell as his bullet met its target, and the gunfire ceased instantly. He went to reload, but found the barrel had jammed.
Y/n stood up, glaring at Joel. "She listens to me. She trusts me." she said. "You're just the guy in charge of taking us from Point A to Point B."
"Trust isn't the point here, okay?" Joel replied, standing. "You're not setting a good example for her."
"You're not my dad, Joel!" Y/n replied, her tone low and harsh. "Ellie is the closest thing I've got to family. Once we reach Salt Lake City, I'm going to be the only one she has, and I'll be damned if I take that away from her. I can protect myself. So worry about yourself."
Joel had no answer for that. Suddenly the silence they were surrounded by seemed impossibly loud. Either they had killed their attackers or frightened them enough to make them turn around and run. Y/n wasn't sure which she'd prefer.
"Are you guys done arguing so I can come out now?" Ellie's voice came out muffled.
Y/n gave Joel one last pissed off look and turned around. "Hang on, I'm coming to get ya!" she said, heading back to the hole in the wall. "Here, hand me your stuff and I'll—"
The sudden sound of the back door to the laundromat bursting open silenced her. There was a gunshot and a yell — whether it was from Joel or his attacker, she couldn't tell. Y/n didn't wait to see what was happening before she practically shoved Ellie back into the hiding spot to keep her out of harm's way.
Y/n turned as someone in dark clothing knocked Joel to the ground, scrambling on top of him pressing his rifle to his neck to choke him. "Now you're gonna fucking pay! What you fucking did, you fucking killed yourself, motherfucker!" the guy shouted, his voice filled with rage. Joel struggled against him, but his grip stayed firm, pressing harder and harder down on his throat. His shoes squeaked against the floor as he tried desperately to move away, but it was useless.
The gun weighed heavy as Y/n lifted it. Arms straight out, finger over the trigger. Joel's struggling was becoming weaker and weaker with every passing second. Beads of sweat collected on Y/n brow. This was no time for indecision. No time for fear. She grit her teeth and gripped the gun even tighter.
Bang.
The man let out a yell as he fell to the side, slumped against the wall. Joel immediately began to gasp and wheeze, taking in heaving breaths of air. Y/n stepped closer, the gun still held out, and she saw that she hadn't killed the man.
He was leaning against the wall, his chest heaving violently. When he removed his hands from under him, they were slick, coated with blood. He struggled to get himself up, grimacing at the pain, and Y/n realized with horror that he couldn't have been much older than she was.
He was just a kid.
"No, no, no, no, no! It's okay! It's okay. It's over. We're not fighting anymore." he shouted frantically, holding a bloodstained hand out to stop her. His voice had completely changed from before. What had been violent rage was now desperate pleading. "I'm gonna go home. I'll tell everyone you're good." he said, his voice choked with tears.
Y/n swallowed, refusing to lower her weapon as a lump in her throat began to form.
Suddenly he sobbed, his voice becoming high-pitched in distraught terror. "I don't know what to do. My legs don't work."
She had shot him in the spine. She must've paralyzed him.
"My mom isn't far, if you could get me to her." he cried.
Joel slowly began to get up, but Y/n was frozen in fear. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. All she could do was watch this terrified kid beg for his life.
"We could trade with you guys. We could be friends. I didn't know!" he said, panting through tears. "I'm Bryan! I'm Bryan. What's your name?"
Y/n's throat constricted. Tears rushed to her eyes and she didn't stop them, but her body knew better. Tears were weakness. She pushed them away almost as an instinct, but something was still weighing heavy in her chest. Bryan.
Joel's hand suddenly reached out, grabbing the pistol from the top. Y/n suddenly became aware, her eyes darting to Joel's. He said nothing, but the look on his face said all she needed to know: You know what I have to do.
Slowly, she let go of the pistol and found that her hands were shaking violently. He turned back around, causing Bryan to panic. "Wait, wait, wait!" he shouted, doing his best to drag himself further away. all he was doing was backing himself further into a corner. Suddenly he reached into a holster and pulled out a large hunting knife, dropping it to the ground. "You can have it...It's a good knife." he said, his voice becoming even more ragged.
Joel bent down and took the knife from him. Y/n was feeling something she hadn't felt in a long time. Not since the time she watched her mother's eyes close for the last time.
Joel turned to her. "Get back behind the wall." he said.
"No, no, no, no! I'm sorry! Please, please. We could just talk! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Bryan shouted, holding his hand out as if to shield himself from them.
Y/n tried to speak, but choked on her words. She paused, not sure what to say. "Joel," she said finally, her voice coming out as nothing more than a rough whisper.
Joel's expression hardened. "Y/n. Get back."
But she couldn't leave. Bryan was crying out to her, apologizing to her, begging for help. There was nothing they could do to help him, and there was nothing he could do to hurt them. But he had seen their faces, and now he knew their names. And that kind of information was deadly.
Y/n just shook her head, her eyes glazing over just as they had earlier. Joel realized then that there was no convincing her. The damage had already been done. So he turned away from her and cocked the pistol.
"No, please! Please! I'm sorry!" Bryan's cries became even more frantic. "Please! You don't have to! No, no, no! We can just talk!"
He was babbling now. Y/n couldn't move. She looked at Bryan, and for and for one fleeting instant, she saw herself that one December night seven years ago. The night she lost everything but her life.
"Mom! Mom! Mom!"
Bang.
Two days. It had been two days since Y/n had said a word to Joel or Ellie. It had also been two days since Joel had put a bullet in Bryan's head.
She walked like someone possessed, eyes staring blankly ahead, face frozen with no expression.
Ellie did her best to goad her into conversation, but she may as well have been talking to a brick wall. Y/n never replied to her questions or laughed at her jokes. Ellie didn't scare easily, but now she was terrified. Nothing quite like this had ever happened.
The only time they ever heard a sound from her was late into the night, when she thought they were both asleep. That was when she allowed herself to cry.
Joel awoke on the third night to complete silence. As the forest floor came into focus around him, he saw Y/n sleeping bag laying flat on the ground, empty.
He sat up, images of the worst immediately coming to mind. He looked to his other side and saw Ellie, fast asleep in her bedroll. `That calmed some of his nerves, but left a lot of his questions unanswered.
The sun was just barely beginning to rise in the east when he got up, looking around himself for any sign of Y/n. There were none. So, after glancing back one more time to make sure Ellie was safe, he picked a direction and began to walk, hoping to find the elder Pain in His Ass.
He wasn't sure how long he had walked before he found her. She was sitting on the forest floor with her back against the thick trunk of a tree, her knees tucked up to her chest with Joel's jacket draped over them. She looked up when he came around, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen.
For a moment, neither of them said anything, merely accepting the others' presence.
"I'm sorry I took your jacket." Y/n said. Her voice was rough and gravelly, and Joel discovered with surprise that he had almost forgotten what it sounded like.
"Don't worry about it." he replied. "Mind if I sit?"
She said nothing, giving a small nod and turning back to stare off into the distance. Joel moved to sit down next to her, grimacing at the pain in his joints as he did so. Y/n continued to sit like there was no one else there, her blank gaze focused on the horizon.
Joel had a pretty good idea what was bothering her. She had shot someone. And what was worse, she'd left them in pain. He almost thought it would've been better if she'd have killed him with the first bullet.
"Y/n—"
"He was crying for his mom." she said suddenly, cutting him off. "He was crying for his mom and you shot him."
Joel went silent for a moment. He'd had to do things he never imagined himself doing — that had been one of them. "I couldn't take the risk."
She knew what he meant, of course. She understood why he'd done it. And, most of all, she was almost sure that if she'd been in his position, she'd have done the same thing. But seeing firsthand what it looked like to beg for your life reminded her of things she'd rather leave in the past.
"My father was a smuggler." Y/n said, her voice hollow. "We never asked what he did; we just knew that, because of what he did, we lived a lot better than a lot of other people. I'm not really sure what he did — if he had made a bad deal, or double crossed someone that shouldn't be crossed, but I woke up on Christmas morning to gunshots coming from my living room. I should've stayed in my room, I know. But I couldn't just sit there and wait. My whole family was down there. So, I went to see if my dad was okay. He was dead before I got down the stairs. My mom grabbed me and my sister as these three guys pointed guns at our faces. She was screaming at them, begging them not to take her children, begging them to take mercy on us. All three of them shot at once."
Her voice stayed firm and toneless as she spoke. "By the time the bullet hit, I had accepted that I was going to die. My eyes shut and I never once thought they'd open again. But..." Y/n pulled down the hemline of her shirt an inch to reveal a thick white scar just below her collarbone, "fate took pity on me that day. Marlene found me just before I bled out. She kept me alive. And when I woke up, I was in the worst pain I'd ever experienced. All I could do was scream for my mom, ask if she was okay. I never got a straight answer, but I already knew what had happened. I just didn't want to believe it."
Joel listened carefully, his and Ellie's conversation echoing in his mind:
"She's got some rough family stories."
"We all do."
"Not like hers."
She was only seventeen years old — he knew that from the beginning. But now that truly seemed to sink in as he looked at her, sitting with her knees tucked to her chest, huddled under his blanket like it was a coat of armor.
"You shouldn't have had to see that," he said. "No one should."
Y/n nodded in agreement. She knew that it wasn't fair. That none of this was fair. But that didn't change that it had happened, or that she'd have to carry it with her wherever she went. It never really got lighter — that was the thing. All the memories did was get harder and harder to hold.
Her glass expression shattered then as she turned to him, tears falling out of her eyes before she could stop them. "I'm trying so hard to hang on, Joel, I really am," she said, her voice finally breaking. She all but collapsed, leaning her head on his shoulder as hers began to shake with sobs.
It had taken Joel years not to see Sarah in every kid he met — but things always fell through the cracks. When he'd least expect it, a sudden laugh or sarcastic comment would take him back to Austin, back to his daughter, and for a moment he'd almost forget that she was gone.
This was one of those times.
"Oh, Y/n," Joel said quietly, wrapping an arm around her. This girl was not Sarah. No one would ever be Sarah. But right then, Joel was almost sure that she was the closest he was ever going to get at a second chance.
"I'm sorry I don't listen," Y/n said through tears. "I know I need to set a good example for Ellie, but if we lose you...I can't be sure I can get her to the Fireflies by myself. We need you. I..."
She stopped herself just short of saying I need you.
"Hey, it's alright. It's okay. You're not gonna lose me." Joel said. "And sometimes...sometimes you just can't listen. You can't take unnecessary risks, but sometimes the situation demands them. You have the sense to know when that is. The world needs more people like that. Like you.
"Don't even think about losing anyone, okay? You just can't. This whole thing, it's like walking on a tight rope. You look down, that's where you're going. So don't look down."
Y/n was coming back to her senses by now, her shoulders stilling and her tears coming to a steady stop. She nodded, wiping away at the last few stray tears and sitting up. "Don't look down," she repeated. "Is that why you're so grumpy all the time? Because you're always looking down?"
She sort of half-smiled in a way that reminded him so starkly of Sarah that he almost forgot to breathe. But he recovered, giving her a wry grin in return. "It's questions like that that make me want to throw you in a lake."
"Please, with your balance, you'd throw yourself in before anyone else."
#the last of us#the last of us hbo#joel miller#ellie williams#tlou#tlou show#tlou hbo#the last of us fanfiction
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Johoo, saw your post and just had to follow you you seem awsome
Question: do you have any criticism to race to the edge, if so what? I find it very fascinating to see different people’s opinions on the series
heyyy thanks for the follow! i’m glad you like my acc!
before i say anything, PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY OPINIONS SERIOUSLY! i’m coming to y’all mostly in a joking tone like it’s all chill. i like the show and enjoy watching it but yeah without further ado!
rtte. when i was younger i had a love-hate relationship with it. there were many things i didn’t like but i kept watching cause we still had a long wait for thw and i NEEDED httyd content. of course there were things that i liked but yeah.
rewatching it now, i realized i might’ve been over exaggerating! to be fair, i’ve always been a dramatic person so there’s no surprise in that.
there are still things i’m iffy about.
- first off, hiccup and toothless’ relationship. to me, toothless seemed more like a pet than a best pal to hiccup. like toothless was usually in the background for the majority of his screen time. they did have their moments like in dire straits, enemy of my enemy (i think … but i can’t recall well), and triple cross, but that’s pretty much it.
- heather’s whole storyline. it was good in the beginning but wow they just really let go of her character. like she had SOOO much potential and she was well liked within the fandom. i would suggest watching this video on youtube:
it pretty much wraps up all my thoughts on her.
- DAGUR! SHOULDVE! STAYED! DEAD!
and if they weren’t planning on killing him off THEY SHOULDNT HAVE MADE HIS “DEATH” SCENE SO TRAGICALLY BEAUTIFUL CAUSE NOW WHAT EVEN IS THE POINT
- hiccup was not supposed to see the ice spikes! again, 18 year old hiccup was NOT. SUPPOSED. TO SEE. THE ICE SPIKES! why? because 20 year old hiccup has NEVER SEEN THEM BEFORE!
- heathlegs. i’m sorry but i know a lesbian when i see one.
- this one i won’t get too worked up on cause i know the writers have said a few times hiccstrid was not going to be the main focus of the show (and tbh, as a hiccstrid shipper … thank god), but i wish their development from the friends to crush to lovers stage was more noticeable. to me it kinda just felt like BOOM! hiccstrid together!
at least the kisses were good. no no. the kisses were EXCELLENT! PURE CINEMA!
- listen i know they were in a time crunch when netflix just threw two more seasons at them, but johann? really?
- ASTRID NOT GETTING HICCUP A FAWKING MAP IN SANDBUSTED!
and that’s all i can think of for now, but all in all i love this show. i literally used to sit and wait for the seasons to come out at 3 AM MY TIME!! like this was my teenhood! i went to school sleep deprived for this shit so don’t you think for a second that i’m coming from a place of hate or ungratefulness.
i do have positive things about rtte but i’ll save that for a different post (also i plan to rewatch each episode one by one and make a tumblr post of my thoughts cause why not).
anyways thanks for asking this!
#httyd#astrid#hiccup#hiccstrid#httyd 2#httyd 3#httyd thw#rtte#race to the edge#snotlout#heather#tuffnut#ruffnut#fishlegs
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What disability do you have that prevents you from working?
Typically I would say mind your business, but, seeing as you're the apparent arbiter of whose disabilities are "bad enough," you of course must be informed so you can declare your ruling on whether my illness justifies my inability to work. And obviously your eminent anonymous opinion is what makes or breaks my entire lifestyle lmfao. But y'know what? Sure, I'll humor you, bc why not - have a peek at the hell that is my physical health and decide if I'm sick or just a lazy piece of shit.
I'm not giving you my full diagnostic history, bc you are not my doctor (unless he has tumblr but I doubt it) - I have multiple different diagnoses anyway, ranging from genetic to rheumatological to endocrine to neurological to gynecological, and rote listing them would probably mean little to you. What I will tell you is some of my symptoms, since those are more understandable to those who aren't aware of medical jargon and acronyms.
[Read more bc even symptoms alone are a huge list, no need for anyone to read all this, I just got going and it got long]
Let's start musculoskeletal: I have frequent falls from joint instability (and neurological issues like dizziness), and these falls often result in my joints (knees, shoulders, ankles, fingers, and collarbones are main offenders) coming partially or sometimes fully out of place and needing to be popped back in - I typically have to do this multiple times a day, and am very used to the cracks, crunches, thunks, snaps, and visceral squelch sounds that joints make when they move in and out of position. The pain of those injuries rarely bothers me anymore because I'm so used to it, so I just relocate joints and move on with my day - but the dislocations do inflame and damage surrounding tissues, and it adds up fast bc of how damn frequently my various bones decide they are getting divorced from their partners. I also have moderate scoliosis and bone-on-bone arthritis in my thoracic spine (meaning the spinal discs have degraded to nothing, so there's no cushion between the bones or around delicate nerves in the spinal cord, causing more neuro issues). My SI joints are degrading and constantly painful, and when they flare it gets to the point where I can't even shift an inch in bed without crying out. I have sprained/dislocated my right ankle so many times that it has permanent tendon damage, which would normally make me a candidate for surgery to fix them, but one of my conditions makes the surgery extremely likely to fail, so instead I'm stuck with chronic ankle pain and instability that gets worse with each proceeding twist or sprain (which are more likely to happen w the fucked tendons). My bone density is much lower than it should be in a woman my age. My hand joints are steadily losing their stamina wrt how long they can do things like write before the pain is really bothersome. My condition also just inherently causes muscle wasting, so building strength (though important in my treatment) can feel like an exercise in futility, and is incredibly frustrating. Nothing that I have mentioned in this paragraph can be treated at the root cause btw, symptoms can be managed and injuries can be rehabbed, but there's no fixing the disorder, these symptoms will haunt me my entire life.
Rheum: I am always high-inflammation, literally couldn't tell ya the last time my WBC tested in the normal range bc my body is constantly on high alert trying to fix the unfixable. Inflammation compromises your immune system, causes chronic fatigue, weight fluctuations, and just physically hurts, it's like a dull ache in dozens of areas on my body, and it moves around. That pain is also so familiar that it doesn't particularly bother me. What has been bothering me tho is that my thyroid is now overactive, which has led to new symptoms - I'm used to my typical set, I know how to cope, but new symptoms are a whole 'nother ballgame: I've been unable to sleep FAR too often, I'm now chronically sleep deprived and yet still alert and awake for 2-4 days at a time; I have lost 50 pounds in two months, and my body has been basically organically giving me Ozempic effects - no cravings, no appetite, no general urge or interest in eating - but the weight loss is still disproportionate and pretty shocking; I am anxious and fidgety all the time, to the point that my muscles get sore from fidgeting during the long wakeful periods; I hyperfixate even worse than usual on tasks (e.g. this fuckin ask response that you in no way deserve but I'm too engaged to not write it now). My healthy curly hair has started to feel brittle and frizzy, and some strands have broken (I have not used any bleach or heat since I had a buzzcut). The brain fog caused by the inflammation is also absolutely insane, I feel like I'm running in slow-mo even though the chemicals in my body are in high gear giving me energy and anxiety.
Gyno: I have PCOS and Stage III (of IV) endometriosis. Enough said?
Endocrine: my hormone levels have always been fucky (sky-high androgens) and when I went on testosterone a doctor medicated me incorrectly and made my hormonal imbalances drastically worse. my HPA axis is fucked, so all the different hormones/chemicals those organs produce are out-of-whack as well.
Neuro: Tingling/numb extremities, essential tremor, BRAIN FOG, balance issues, lack of coordination, nerve pain, vagus nerve dysfunction, icepick headaches. I have non-MS-type lesions on my brain, most likely caused by chronic physical and emotional stress according to my neuro. I have chiari malformation which means the bottom of my brain sags into the area of my spinal cord. I have endometriosis growing on my sciatic nerve, which is just as fun as it sounds; the sciatica pain is a different pain than I'm used to so it's much more uncomfortable mentally.
Systemic: Can't emphasize enough that I hurt All The Time. If my pain is at a 5 or less, that's a REALLY good day for me, I typically hang around a 7 on the pain chart. Pain stops me before strength or stamina, so I can't go on the walks my body wants to go on, I can't clean the apartment as deeply as I'd like, I can't even move some days, when the pain is all-encompassing and extra intense. I can semi-function with a LOT of pain by ignoring it, but I have had more and more days over the years when I just can't ignore it, or else I'll be punished with a knee dislocation or an SI joint flare for overdoing it. My autonomic system is an absolute disaster - this controls blood pressure, heart rate, digestion, breathing, temperature regulation, all the shit your body is supposed to do automatically. I can't rely on my body to do those things automatically. My stomach is paralyzed SOMETIMES because of my autonomic dysfunction; yes really. 3 gastric emptying studies, one was normal, one was very rapid, and one was basically immobile. The theory is that the fluctuations in my body and the storm of hormones/neurotransmitters/chemicals stimulate peristalsis unpredictably. Intermittent gastroparesis, and other times my stomach can't even hold onto food long enough to digest it and get nutrients before it moves on. And latelly I've had the fun little symptom of playing russian roulette whenever I dare to eat anything bc there's a 20% chance it will not be staying down - but also if I don't eat, I puke stomach acid and bile. I stock medical emesis bags like I'm a hospital, and have them stocked in my car, nightstand, living room, bag... bc I never know how my stomach will act, and when the nausea hits it is extremely sudden and intense so I need to have easy access to the bags. That's the reality of my gastric situation, eating holds no joy whatsoever, I've even lost a few safe foods after puking them up and developing taste aversion. My blood pressure is chronically low to the point that automatic BP cuffs sometimes are unable to detect it; my pulse is chronically rapid to the point that it goes over 3 beats a second sometimes, according to my watch. I even pass out sometimes because my blood pressure tanks even worse than usual (my father does the same thing, same disease).
Anything else you want to know? Social security number? Credit card info?
#y'all are so comfortable being invasive please engage w some people offline and remember how to act#unfortunately I am so comfortable oversharing so I enable you freaks who've forgotten that tact is even a thing#ask
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that whole article and all the discourse around it has me frothing at the fucking mouth with irritation like PLEASE
reducing it to a phone issue like the tumblr post does or "it's about identity politics now" as parts of the article posit makes me want to go outside and scream into the night sky like oh we want to take shots at students not being able to engage with complex ideas but sure alright lets reduce everything down to the most simplistic root causes imaginable so we don't have to look at the rotten structures producing these outcomes, fine
anyway
now, for the children currently growing up, kids are being fucking traumatized and overloaded by school systems and their homes and successive illnesses
for kids in the past twenty years or so we've seen systemic sabotage of arts education across multiple countries combined with rising cost of living and wages remaining pretty fucking stagnant resulting in less free time across the board as teens are either forced into work early or take over household chore positions while also managing their school workload
we've seen the course materials they need skyrocketing in price, and a given university course is often crunched in time, has to be fit in among many others, and still fit in with basic survival in a time when that's becoming more difficult than ever
we can look also to the humiliation and devaluation of literary analysis in mainstream cultural opinion
we can look to the consequences of predatory psychological practices involved in design of compulsion loops
we can look to the devaluation of curiosity and the shame that is baked into people who are enthusiastic and open about their interests!
blaming distance education is especially infuriating to me as someone who did my degree via distance education
that's fine
slapshod delivery of distance education and ableism surrounding it and requiring physical attendance so the lecturer can look into the eyes of students (this is repeatedly something i've seen put forward as reason not to do distance education, as if the lecturer being more personally comfortable is what matters over access to the material) also play a part
the focus on memorization and standardized testing
we have academic systems that were shit for students in the 70's and have further decades of institutional debris and also systemic cruelty baked into them to the point where professors don't see anything wrong often with publicly humiliating their students or making judgements about their Right to engage with the educational material - there's one version of that thread on here with a fucking math teacher chiming in like oh if i asked my class what their fave math thing is and someone said something related to bill nye i'd question whether they even understood why they were here, basically. and like! that's a wild fucking thing to say my guy!!!
it's not your fucking business!!
teachers will say they want passion and genuine engagement and then go out of their way to sabotage anyone ever feeling comfortable showing that and then turn around and be like who did this???
anyway
complex issues require interrogation from multiple fronts and interdisciplinary focus as fucking always
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so my tumblr front page has a lot of ghostface stuff for obvious reasons, he's obviously a big fave of mine and i follow a lot of ghostie lovin' accounts, as well as following the ghostface tag. typical stuff. but i. every time i see live action ghostface i cannot fucking help but think of that poor fucking scare actor who was dressed as ghostface at the haunt i went to last year.
important details: i am a 4'9 man and despite being a horror lover and connoisseur, i do not handle irl horror very well. that is to say, i'm chicken shit. i'm a fucking baby. i cry and hide behind my friends at haunts. i love going! don't get me wrong! i love going so much because i love being scared but also my fear reaction isn't to fight, flee, or freeze, it's to fawn n cry, baby, that's how i do it. but it's always like "wow that was fun!" after the haunt, yanno? it's scary but it's not real so it's not traumatizing or anything, it's just like, "haha man i am weak let's go again next year", whatever yanno. those details out of the way, if you know ANYTHING about haunts, you know seasoned scare actors are usually pretty good at telling who the scaredy cat is, and a lot of times, that's the easy target. some will go for the one they can tell is already fuckin tweaking lmao. and boy, is it not hard to tell with me.
so let me set the scene: it's 11PM, dark as shit, i'm dressed like a fucken slut bc i always gotta dress up for haunts, if i'm gonna cry i wanna look hot doin' it yanno. got my bunny hat on, for emotional support (doesn't everyone have a hat w/ bunny ears for emotional support?). i'm clinging to my friends shirt while they're dragging me through this corn maze. i hear something crunch behind us and instinctively cling tighter. i know something is about to happen and i'm NOT going to like whatever it is. i'm anticipating a loud noise. a scream. someone to jump out.
LO AND FUCKING BEHOLD, who other than ghostface is suddenly fucking beside me. ME. this haunt isn't super strict about invasion of personal fucking space, it's not officially no touch but most of them won't really touch you. this guy, though, oh no. he says nothing, that'd be out of character of course, but i am staring. wide eyed. just looking up at him. my friends feel me pause. they turn back. THEY START LAUGHING. THEY ARE ANTICIPATING.
i am truly frozen, i am just looking at this man when he moves to press his (obviously fake) knife into my throat, tilting my chin up a little bit with it. i cannot fucking. i cannot function. i GIGGLE. i am a grown man and i giggle like a schoolgirl who's crush just picked up their dropped pencil for them. I GIGGLED. this man tenses, he did NOT expect that reaction. my friends are fucking cackling. this scare actor has been thrown for a loop. he once more says nothing, removes the knife, stares down at me for a solid thirty seconds, and then WALKS AWAY.
GHOSTFACE SCARE ACTOR IF YOURE OUT THERE I AM SO SORRY. I DID NOT MEAN TO MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE I SINCERELY DID NOT BUT I LOVE GHOSTFACE PLS UNDERSTAND YOU MADE A DREAM COME TRUE THAT NIGHT AND I STILL THINK ABOUT IT A YEAR LATER I WOULD APOLOGIZE IF I COULD BUT I WILL NEVER GO BACK TO THAT HAUNT EVER AGAIN OUT OF EMBARRASSMENT.
#this isnt even the most embarrassing interaction ive had at a haunt either#i have a TALENT for embarrassing myself at haunts#now that i think about it every haunt ive ever gone to#ive had smth either embarrassing or unfortunate happen#youd think id stop going#but its sm fun lmao#ghostface#scream#haunt#scare actor#pls if ur out there i am deeply sorry sir#but also never talk to me again i literally cannot handle the shame#i cannot fucking believe i giggled i am so fucking sorry you were trying to scare me bro and like i#wrong person?#i am so sorry#i wrecked your vibe#i did not mean to#hopefully you scared some other folks that night#ill die in my hole of shame lmao
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Chpt. 7 - Witch With A B
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: None in particular.
A/n: Sorry I forgot tumblr exists. In other words you get four new chapters so nice? Also, comment or msg me if you want to be added to the future taglist!
Your trudging through the snow is, as it always fucking is, miserable. Asa is in your arms again, because he can't walk with the rotting affecting him. He's chewing on a cooked piece of rabbit, silent as he watches you suffer.
And, shit, you are suffering.
As if God himself has come down from the heavens just to make you a little more miserable, the snow falls harder. White powder catches on your eyelashes, and you rapidly blink away the distraction. Your hands burn with the freezing air, the pressure you put on them after being literally impaled is not helping much. You were surprised they hadn't fallen off, from frostbite, infection or some other malignant disease.
Still, you trudged on. You were close to the hag's new hideout now, you'd started to see signs of her work in the woods around you. Hanging talismans, runes carved into tree trunks, an uncomfortable amount of skeletal carcases. You didn't know what half the things she did meant, but you knew they made everyone uncomfortable. Human and vampire alike.
The first part was probably intentional, the second part not so much. She'd welcome any vampire into her abode, and probably thought the bodies were welcoming. You wouldn't tell her they weren't, because you wouldn't like to bump into a blood-sucker on one of your visits. They fucking sucked well enough already.
The rustling of wood and feathers behind your ear draws your attention, and you huff. Looking over your shoulder you find Asa playing with your arrows, chewing on both feathered edges and rabbit bone.
"Asa, I told you to stop playing with those. They're dangerous," you chide, and he barely gives you a glance before going back to his incredibly fatal playtime. You sigh, shifting his head to your other side. He goes to cry, but the start of his wail is stopped by your stumbling.
He pauses, sniffing the air, and says-
"You're bleeding, Baba."
You take a deep breath of biting air at his words. That's probably why your hands hurt so much. Your wounds had reopened, and you were running out of bandages and disinfectant. Fuck, you don't know what to do.
You take another breath, like that'll make this all easier. Pausing in the wintery woods, you slowly let Asa down. The snow creaks under his boots, and you watch fang dig deep into bone. He leaves little bite marks along the side of it, another casual show of his supernatural power.
"Thanks for pointing that out, baby," you say, unwrapping your hands slowly from his little form. He pouts, but doesn't complain. You sometimes wish he would more, but not today. Today you were thankful for his careful silence, watching you like a hawk.
Looking down at your hands, you can see your bandages have cleanly bled through. You sigh at all the blood, wondering how much longer Asa could last before he had... an episode. If that's what you could call it, but you knew the true term the vampires used.
'Bloodlust.'
It was something you staved off with lots of raw meat and filling human food, but you were all too aware of the red eyes that followed your movements. Asa didn't want to hurt you, and you had faith in that above all else.
You didn't have faith in a child's self control, however.
After all, your blood was delicious, that's what he always said, anyway.
A crunch in the snow has your head whipping upwards, but when Asa doesn't pay the newcomer any attention, your shoulder's relax. Through the snow you see a familiar figure, a hunched crone with a staff in one wrinkled, many ringed hand. The woman you'd been looking for had come to greet the two of you herself. You feel a tired smile tug at your lips when you hear Asa's low growl.
Asa isn't scared of her, but he certainly doesn't like her, moving to shuffle behind you.
"My, my, is that you again, podzhigatel'?" the familiar Russian nickname falls from her lips, and you can't help the small flare of pride with the title. You had many nicknames, but this was your favourite. 'Hunter' didn't speak to your accomplishments, but the word the witch spoke did.
Arsonist. That's what it meant. Even if she spits it with disgust, you choose to take it as a compliment.
The crone's eyes flicker down past your legs to where Asa hides, and she gives him a grin with missing teeth. He hisses at her, reminding you faintly of the street cats you used to feed. Ah, damn this old bitch. She brought far too many memories with her sweeping robes and wicked grins.
"And malen'koye sokrovishche too, of course!" she reaches the hand not holding the staff out to Asa, but you slap it away.
She looks up, the smile she wore dropping into a scowl. You return her glare, knowing not to let this crazy woman a single step closer to you son. She leans back at this, giving an eye roll as she stretches to her full height. Or well, what she can, at least.
"Do you have anything for me today, or are you just here to eat my food and take up space?" she asks you, and you hide your wince. Your deal with the Witch of the North was a simple one. She helped you with Asa and all of his quirks, and you gave her... supplies.
Fresh ones, usually.
"...Rogues are skittish, an Abomination has been roaming," you reply, and she scoffs at that.
"They always are at this time of year. Your excuses are getting worse. Any blood?"
You bite into your lip, shaking your head.
She places her hands on the staff, nodding her head in a mocking way. This hag had never once cared for your life, and simply saw Asa as a way of furthering her goals. You didn't think she knew what empathy was.
"And you still won't give me the boy?"
In seconds you have a knife to her throat, rage burning in your chest. She laughs, waving her hand like you're old friends, not someone about to be slain and the slayer. She gives you a wink and says-
"I'd put that down if I were you. You well know I'm the only one who can help you - for whatever idiotic reason you've come here again," she croons, and you clench your jaw so tight that your ears ring. Still, you drop the blade to your side, not holstering it away just yet.
"I'll do it one day," you promise, and she claps her hands together, giggling.
"I hope you do! The great Hunter chasing me down and slaughtering me? My, it'd be a memory I'd cherish even in death!" she said with all the cheer of someone who had actually completely lost their mind. She was almost as irritating as Creel, and the only reason he was ahead of her was because of his simple obliviousness to how annoying he was.
You huff, shaking your head.
"I don't have anything to pay you," you say, and you suppress the shudder that rolls through you at the cunning grin she offers in return. She reaches her hand out again, palm splayed upwards to the falling snow.
"A debt then?"
Now, you weren't stupid. Debts were in the realm of the other, and the witch wasn't just called that for show. She had powers you didn't understand, and they terrified you. Her magic was closely intertwined with the same magic the blood-suckers used. Debts, truths and lies, names... All of it she wielded tight in her grasp.
An open ended debt was truly open ended. You would have to pay it back, you would be physically forced to by something you, human you, could never truly understand.
You were no fool. But you were desperate, and sometimes that was the same thing.
You take her hand, and with the other pull down your collar, showing the faded mark on your neck. In between the scars from the teeth digging into your skin shines a faint mark, almost glowing in the afternoon light.
The witch gasps, a delighted smile stretching over her cracked lips.
The inside of the Witch's house was as miserable as always. Rotted wood and foetid air, not to mention the miserable cold. The hag pushes at your back, shoving you further into the darkness. She takes a box of matches from her pocket and moves around the room, lighting a litany of candles. The warm glow doesn't make the space any more comfortable, revealing the interior of her hut.
Considering she moved so often it was a wonder why she always chose the most miserable places to shack up. You think it's a matter of aesthetics in this case. After all, a nice abandoned mansion wouldn't fit her jars of organs and fanged skulls.
She ushers you towards the table in the middle of the room, where you take a seat, pulling Asa into your lap. The crone takes to the back of the room, pulling dried herbs and strange salves from her shelves.
"So, who's the man of the hour? Or a woman perhaps? I don't know much about vampire proclivities when it comes to their fated-partners," she asks over her shoulder, and you wince. You weren't interested in telling her the details, merely in finding a way to get this mark off you.
You'd have carved a chunk out of your neck if you thought it would do anything, but the other humans you'd seen forced into this who'd tried that had just seen the mark pop up somewhere else on their skin. It was similar to a curse in that respect. And other ways too.
Because now that vampire would inevitably track you down, no matter where you ran. You didn't quite understand how the mark worked, but from what you did get, it seemed to almost have a compass-like system in it. He'd know whichever direction you were in at all times, as if you were his true north.
"That's none of your business," you cooly answer, and she grunts an answer.
"So be it. Blood sample, dearie?" she shrugs off your standoffish ways without a care, and you eye the needle in her hand. Your shoulders tense, your teeth dig into the skin inside your mouth, and you hear Asa growl. You take a deep breath, grounding yourself with the scent of mould and earth. The witch watches you with a predator-like curiosity, and that doesn't help your anxiety.
Calm down. Relax, relax, relax, relax, relax, relax-relaxrelaxrelaxrelaxrelax-
You weren't there. You weren't inside the Walls. Gradually, your shoulders drift from where they were bunched up beside your ears, and you summon the balls to continue this unpleasant conversation.
"Is that one new?" you ask.
She grins, reaching her other hand out for you to offer your arm. You don't, simply staring at her in waiting. After a moment her grins falls into a wicked scowl.
"You know I treat you with the utmost care. Frankly, I'm hurt by your actions, podzhigatel."
You give her a disapproving look, tucking Asa tighter in your grasp.
"You have a seventy percent mortality rate, witch," you reply, and she laughs, shaking her head.
"But I do not care about those patients! You, however, are as precious as our little treasure here!" she coos at Asa, wiggling her old fingers at him, and you wonder if he's going to try and bite her finger off. When he lunges forward, teeth sharp, you don't protest. You do sag a little when the crone manages to make sure she doesn't lose a digit, darting backwards.
Well, her words do seem true. Still, you don't offer your arm, and Asa doesn't offer any extra of your space.
She sighs, looking at you like you're a petulant child. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, knowing you've been doing it far too much lately. Maybe they'll roll into the back of your skull and get stuck one day.
You think Creel will be the one to doom you to such a fate.
"Yes, yes, yes. You stupid thing, of course it's a new needle. I can't have you dying of a blood disease off somewhere in the middle of the woods, can I? Especially not now with..." her words trail off, eyes naturally flowing to the hidden juncture of your neck. You hate how giddy she is about it, but there's literally no one else to go to, so here you were.
Extending your arm, averting your eyes from the syringe.
The tiny pin-prick in your arm is infinitesimally small compared to the rest of the pain you've experienced in the past few days, yet it feels like the worst you've experienced in your life. It doesn't make any sense, but it doesn't need to. Creel often talked to you about the affects of trauma in his gang, and he'd once even whispered to you about the nightmares that plagued his sleep. You knew why it was.
That didn't mean you didn't fucking hate this weakness, that you didn't hate the fact you couldn't lash out and kill this evil fucking bitch. That you didn't hate the memories that flick past you like one of the DVDs you and Asa sometimes find.
That you didn't hate the sight of white sterile walls and blood drips, the lines of weathered, weak humans ready to be harvested like livestock.
"All done!" the crone chirps, and you feel the words like a slap. You blink away visions of things that aren't there, head lightly craning as you get a feel for where you are. You're breathing heavily, and Asa is whining into your arms. You strangle down a rope around your fear, hand curling through his golden locks to reassure both him and you.
That you aren't there. Not any more.
She gives the blood a delicate look, hums approvingly, and turns to the rest of her workshop. She starts to assemble the gathering of herbs and your blood, pulling them over to the table which you sit at so the two of you can watch. She's that type of person after all.
Plucking apart leaves and grinding floral herbs in her mortar, she, unfortunately, opens her mouth again.
"So? Are you going to tell me about the bonding, podzhigatel?" she asks without looking up at you, going about her task in a surprisingly methodical manner. If she didn't you would never come to her, but it still shocks you every time she starts one of her spells.
She doesn't seem like a competent person, but everyone has their things, you suppose.
"Will that be necessary?" you ask with a grimace, and she tilts her head to the side, making a grand show of thinking. We all do it, woman.
"Yes, actually. I do think it will be. A bond is something even I don't quite understand, much less those fools locked inside their towers. It's a very personal thing, a welding of two souls-"
"Okay, that's enough," you cut her off, and she cackles.
"Was it not very romantic, dearie? I can't imagine someone like the great Hunter would be very willing to let a vampire bite them," she says, snickering at the very thought. No, you wouldn't call that regrettable meeting 'romantic'. Not that you knew what that was, of course, but you still didn't get butterflies in your stomach thinking about the way your home had been ransacked and you'd nearly been killed or enslaved.
No, that wasn't your idea of romantic.
"There were two of them," is the first thing you say, and even that makes the witch pause.
"Truly?"
You tilt your head to the side, analysing her suddenly shifty expression. You didn't like the look of curiosity on her face on a good day, and especially on a day like this one.
"Yes. One of them was the one who..." you gesture vaguely at your neck, and the hag seems even more interested.
"The other didn't bite you?" she asks, dropping a handful of garlic flowers into the mixture.
You think back, but can't remember if he did. You don't think he did, at least. But your memories were hazy, as was common with extreme blood loss.
"I can't recall if he did," you answer, and she hums under her breath. She makes a waving hand gesture, telling you to get on with what you did remember of the story.
"They were both elder vampires. I don't know how I managed to fool them, but for a while they thought I was a vampire too."
"Probably the scent of their soulmate messing with their heads," she says, her words muttered like she's thinking outloud. You frown, knowing that can't be it because only one - a flash of silver hair in your mind - marked you. And you knew enough about soulmates that you only got one of those, not two.
"But only one of them marked me."
She hums again, tilting your blood into the mixture now. Only a few drops fall in, but a wifty, dark smoke seems to travel upwards from the mortar. It looks like a black smoke, but you know it's something unnatural, and you have to suppress a shiver at the sight.
"My mistake, then. You must've gotten very lucky. Keep going, podzhigatel, I'm interested now."
Her response makes you unnerved, but you can't quite spot why. So instead, you continue on with your tale.
"I lured them towards where my best traps were, and then it's sort of... blank. I can't remember much else, but I know Creel saved us and one of them... bit my neck," you finish, and a glazed look falls over the hag's eyes. You wait for her to say something, but as you do, her eyes slowly grow white, and you realise something strange is happening here. Her eyelids flutter closed, and your shoulder's tense, something niggling at the bottom of your spine. Her eyes snap open.
"Duck."
And then, the roof caves in.
-
NEXT CHAPTER
#the bow and the arrow yandere x reader yandere x you#yandere oc#yandere male#yandere story#oc x reader#yandere oc x reader gender neutral reader
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Hiatus Thoughts Part 1
1. Go see a doctor. Preferably a black female doctor but go see a doctor. I recommend Dr. Sabrina Williams.
2. I’m finally getting help with my ADD. 🥂 Here’s to better focus.
3. “Anniversary Reaction” is a real thing. Mentally you may think you’re past it but your body has its own memory.
4. At this big old age, I still hate needles. POKE-ahontas got my blood work done as SOON as I sat down. Barely a connection or nothing, Jeezus. She was smooth with it too. Quick & no pain. Great work POKE-ianna. Just sweet talk me a little before you put it in, aight!? 🤝
5. Ear worm: Thotianna Cardi B & YG remix
6. I LOVE BEING AN AUNTIE!!!!!
7. I want Indy to stop going viral for the WRONG reasons. WE make the wrong shit go viral.
8. The Last of Us is FINALLY a movie! 🙌🏽
9. I want to lose 14 pounds before Pardi Gras Ball.
10. My favorites songs from Drake’s “Honestly Never mind” are ‘Jimmy Crooks’ & ‘Calling My Name’. There were other good ones but those are my “go-tos”.
11. Sweet Nothing - Calvin Harris (Diplo + Grand Theft Auto Remix)
12. I need workout gloves.
13. Back work outs are my favorite! I want a sexy back 😜
14. Making sure my nieces & great nieces hear Destiny’s Child’s “Writing On The Wall” is imperative. My nephew needs to hear it cause he’s a natural musician.
15. I need to attend some theater plays.
16. Venus in Pisces requires us to spend more time recognizing our emotions, enforcing boundaries, & receiving love. 🥰
17. One thing I loved about myself in my early 20’s is that I marched to the beat of my own drum music wise. On a regular, I didn’t listen to what’s popular with those around me. You’re guaranteed to hear something new.
18. My goal is decorate my room & bathroom to be like an expensive hotel & spa.
19. I need a full time job that I love.
20. This book about boundaries is bomb. The beginning of chapter 5 lets me know a conservative white man is writing it though 😒.
21. Focalin got my hunger suppressed like a mug! No more random snacking.
22. 👉🏽Results are always in the work we avoid.
23. Twerking over Squats. I’m working these thighs at all the parties/events I attend. I need to be twerking for at least a good HOUR!
24. 👉🏽Success is going from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm.
25. IM SO HAPPY TO BE BACK ON MY THYROID MEDS!!!
26. This tetanus shot is IRRITATING! 😣
27. I’m contemplating going back short & blonde 😩
28. Ain’t nobody engaged with me or reach out since I deleted the app. Ain’t no point in me having the app anymore. I put too much effort into engaging with folks for them to not want to engage with me. Time to become more exclusive.
29. Eargasm: Broken Clocks - Sza
30. Marc Jacobs need to come out with mini backpacks 😒
31. Progress. My legs are not shaking while skating.
32. Adding skating to my workout regime.
33. Feminine & Flirty.
34. Playing video games until 3am is a lot 😫
35. WHY IS MINECRAFT SO BORING???
36. Everybody needs to get back on Tumblr
37. Hopped on FB for a zip, did a quick scroll, & remembered why I need to keep the app deleted. Smh Too Much.
38. I’m about to just get a regular degular job somewhere. I’m tired of the emotional roller coaster with these jobs.
39. Sit ups/Crunches in variations REALLY makes a difference in one week with your normal work out. 🤯
40. I’m not even vegan but Tabitha is about to get all my coins.
41. I really miss the EDM & Hip Hop days.
42. I can’t date a man that doesn’t prioritize his sleep. You don’t care about your health at all.
43. Before I get back active on FB I need to unfollow a BUNCH of folks for various reason. The only way I’ll be happy online is if I see stuff that makes me happy.
44. 👉🏽Anger lets us know our boundaries have been violated.
45. The Lat Pulldowns gonna slim this waist. 😜
46. I want y’all to stop walking up on peoples cars unless you asking for help because it’s an emergency.
47. Stop paying non-existent debts with folks & do what’s best for you!
48. So y’all going to Target in robes and house shoes????
49. 👉🏽 Sometimes the answer is in the process. - Megan Brooks
50. 👉🏽 Proof of desire is in the pursuit. - Megan Brooks
51. I know Vasa is all the rave but what I do love about Planet fitness is that when I go, it ain’t packed.
52. NOT EMILY IN PARIS CALLED INDIANAPOLIS BORING????😫😂
53. Emily In Paris makes me want to move to another city SO BAD! Or at least travel & stay for a week 😭
54. Got my STD/STI/HIV test results back & they were all negative/non-reactive. 🎉🙌🏽🤩
55. Emily in Paris IS the “Sex In The City” -ish show I needed.
56. If I can get my vitamin D levels elevated in normal range I can lose weight, get rid of my asthma, calm my allergies, & have better focus. 🙌🏽🤩
57. I’m really gonna lose this weight & get the breast reduction. I want to go down to a C cup.
58. Before I die, I have to see Paris, France.
59. Who is this fine caramel man in Emily In Paris???😍
60. 2023 = Overdressed, Mix Match Print, Polished, Out The Box, Head Turning, Main Character, Neutrals & Pop Of Color/Colorful
61. For every sandal/heel purchase I must buy a tennis shoe. Build your sneaker collection.
62. Black, Brown, Purple, Cobalt Blue, Green, Orange, Dusty Pink, White, Navy, Yellow, Red (order in that order). For every black version order the color version. For every color version order black.
63. The Husband & Wife of Mielle Organics are still the CEO & COO of the company. They have NOT stepped away from the brand.
64. Can someone bring Fabulous back to Indy? He’s my favorite toxic.
65. This year I’m twerking to Back That Thang Up Juve every time I hear it.
66. Emily In Paris gives me “Sex In The City” + “Devil Wears Prada”.
67. I’ll never forget how “Go DJ” by Cash Money Records had y’all in a chokehold in middle school.
68. If Erykah Badu had “punk” or “goth” baby it would be Rico Nasty.
69. I wonder if the offspring of Vietnam veterans that were effect by Agent Orange are the ones who also have ADHD & Autism as well. (Of course not all people with ADHD & Autism)
70. Done is good. Good is extra. Completion over Perfection! For people with ADHD it’s better to half ass it & get it done versus never starting due to procrastination/fear of not doing it perfect!
71. If you want to see some black father & son content, watch 2Chainz & his some on YouTube as well as another black father & son duo called Daddy Seed. I’m here for the black father & son content.
72. I also love the black man luxury self care content too.
73. I’m learning to not be afraid to ask the “stupid” questions. And to ask people to be patient with me.
74. Yagi World is giving me Baby Phat track suit popularity trend in the early 2000s.
75. Not being apart of anything going on with the NBA ALL STAR 2024 makes me feel like I’m not enough or haven’t done enough. Personally, I’ve been feeling both simultaneously for years & I think I’ve had enough. Im ready to let it all go & pivot to the nothing related to marketing, PR, communications, ……nothing. Im 31 going on 32. I’ve been working in this since I was in college around the age of 21. Altogether 10 years. I have nothing to show for & no more doors are opening. It’s just not in me or for me anymore. I quit.
76. I hope to be out of town All Star Weekend. I don’t even want to be in the city. Hell I hope to have moved out the city.
77. I think I’ve been fighting depression and it’s caught me.
78. Mental Healness on Tik Tok is a great guy. It’s refreshing to see a black male open up about his mental illness to help others. He is a diagnosed narcissist & has so many men & women in his comments who has narcissism that are getting help because of him.
79. Values over goals. Ex:. Instead of “I will work out 3-5x a week.” You will say “I value movement. I value being pain free in basic tasks such as walking. I value energy. I value an able body.”
80. I want to go on a cruise for NYE 2024.
81. Prostate cancer is on the rise due to low testing. Fellas start getting tested as early as 40.
82. Beyoncé - “Church Girl” should be played more often.
83. It takes one day to get married but a lifetime to stay married.
84. I got all y’all looking at my story to see this light chick with the big butt. With the amount of attention y’all ran to my story with, I don’t want to hear y’all say anything about chicks who get BBLS, wear make up, &/or brighten their skin. YALL LIKE THAT VISUAL! 🤷🏽♀️
85. I’m unfriending a lot of men when I get back on Facebook. If we not family, genuine friends, you’re not inspiring me, we not hunching, or making money together….then I don’t see the point of remaining Facebook friends.
86. I may be single but I ain’t out here physically fighting a significant other. 🙌🏽
87. Everyone should watch “Bao” & “Red panda” 🥹
88. I LOVE BEING AN AUNTIE!🥰
89. Stop having relationship conversations with people you’d never consider dating or that are not on the same wave length as you. You’re wasting your energy.
90. I feel some type of way about the “hot Cheetos girl” trend in Tik Tok.
91. RIP Grandma Holla 🙏🏾
92. Teaching kids to set boundaries, how to respect other people’s boundaries, & supporting them while they are practicing is important. It is also important for them to watch YOU set boundaries, respect other people’s boundaries, & see you receive support from your tribe.
93. “It’s clear that I’m not feeling you & you not feeling me. On the G, what comes after A? Just let that let that Nigga B.” - Freaky T
94. Sunday is not a rest day from the gym or from moving the body.
95. Go watch “Shadow In The Cloud” on Hulu.
96. I got new bras! 🎉
97. If they make you anxious when they’re around then they don’t need to be around. Id have to say that is one time I realize my anxiety was actually the way my body is telling me something is wrong.
98. 🔑 “Sometimes your point is in your silence.” - Megan Brooks
99. “High value but no core values.” 🚫👎🏽
100. “Drake wants a Ayesha Curry but is Drake a Steph Curry!?” - KnoForSure Podcasts
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My Self Blame Verges on Qualifying as Delusions* of Grandeur
cw: mentions of homelessness and (largely unrelated) self-blame
Picture, if you will, a situation. About 9pm on a Thursday, the train station; you are stressed after a week of work where you haven't yet done what you're paid for even once, on account of all the technical issues. You are also stressed about making your coworkers uncomfortable, and getting your supervisors in potential trouble, and the fact you haven't done the dishes so your flatmates must think terribly of you now- you could power a nuclear reactor with the tension, is what I'm saying.
Suddenly, a guy comes up to you. I swear if he tries to hit on us- he just needs directions, probably, smile, be nice.
He asks for some money to get food, as he's homeless and needs just about 4.50 for a meal. You don't have to, he says, and certainly not the entire sum. You have ten euros in your wallet, that is all the paper money you have. You probably don't have many coins- you spent them all weeks ago. Most of the cash you have, you have on card.
You tell him you don't have much but proceed to look in your backpack anyway. Selfish prick, just give him the ten euros. You find one ten cent coin. Apologetic, you give it to him, and look for more. He makes a joke about ladies' purses, clearly to ease your visible panic. Fucking hell, why can't I just have the body I want and have everyone fuck off about this lady shit.
You don't find anything more. You tell him so, apologise, awkwardly say 'ten cents is better than nothing, right?' like you don't have ten euros in your wallet and let him go on his merry way.
Your brain might as well be that gif of inner spongebobs running around with everything on fire. Selfish, stupid, weak, hypocrite, FIX IT, i can't very well chase him, THE FUCK YOU CAN. INTO HIGH GEAR YOU GO, c'mon, we can get more paper money if we need and it doesn't matter if people stare at us if some guy gets to eat.
You chase after him down the platform and fumble the giving of money, say you don't really need it anyway or something equivalent. Everyone is staring. You run away just as you came, halfway skipping and halfway power walking, maybe an anime run in the mix. Highly embarrassing.
What is your first thought(s) about this interaction now that it's done, dear reader?
I'll tell you what mine were.
Stupid bastard, you didn't show him proper humanity. You didn't give him much in terms of self-assurance, in terms of hope, in terms of validation. If he is cold on the streets in a year, you will be partly responsible. Insufferable, piece of shit, all that practice talking to people and you're still hopeless. You don't even donate to any of the fundraisers you see on tumblr, either. Fucking idiot.
I tried comforting ourselves, of course. Individualism is one hell of a drug, though, and never letting any self-praise- or praise in general, to be fair- stick certainly does a number on the psyche, so i don't think i really succeeded.
it doesn't matter cause this is just a demonstration. Everything is our fault if we were even tangentially involved. Thank u beautiful boyfriend for pointing that toxic belief of ours out, lmao, would not become cognizant of it so soon without your help /gen /pos
But yeah, point is that isn't an exception, that is our Normal. And today, on this tumblr post, we do solemnly swear to stop fucking doing that as much WHEEZE
it's not good for us and it's not good for others, stripping them of agency and treating them as incompetent children and fueling our self-loathing like crazy. So, we will,,, try to let go a bit. we deserve better, that isn't blasphemy to say. we won't hurt people if we don't misplace the responsibility for one guy's shitass life in the Crunching Orphans Machine like at least halfway on our shoulders.
that's obvi an extreme example and this isn't as black and white but i made my point. we need to 1) stop taking All the Responsibility Always and 2) fucking ask for recognition when we ARE responsible and did something useful and good for the people around us and/or ourselves.
like c'mon. improvement 1o1. you can't improve smth you have too little control over, lest of all alone. spend your energy wisely. you can't heal if you keep lashing the wounds for not closing faster.
all of us are fucking nerds lmao and tumblr is our theatre kid public diary. hell YEAH tbh
*'Delusions' here is almost certainly Not the clinically correct term, as far as we understand the definitions, but 'anxiety' was not cutting it and 'false belief' feels FAR too mild. if we had to put this on a scale i'd say this is like, halfway a clinical delusion and halfway severe c-ptsd. which tbh most lines in mental health study are blurred but- you get it
#slovo talks#self blame#self loathing#tw delusion#also tw possibly incorrect usage of psychosis terms. yeah sozz#recovery#plurality#we get angy ay ourselves in this one. sorta#second person pov#sorta WHEEZE#tell me if i missed anything!!
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Oh, I see now, somehow missed that link. Okay, so Changeling Karai and Donnie, and "That's not a scratch" instead, then. Maybe Leo or Splinter in it too if you want.
hsjgdh u must be kinda new to tumblr!! ya there's no real rules to ask memes but generally, ask memes stick to a specific post. They tend to be art related but there's some great writing prompt ones out there. Reblogger will reblog the post with the list of prompts, typically with a tag or comment giving free reign to their followers, and people can send in prompts off of the ask meme.
GENERALLY the reblogger will answer whichever requests they want, but it's not guaranteed as the reblogger just does whichever of the prompts they feel like doing. you know. Personally, I'll keep asks in my inbox if they have prompts I'm interested in doing, save em for if I wanna do them later sometimes. If I don't get the inspiration to use them I'll delete them right off the bat, or delete them like, several weeks later when I'm bored of the ask meme and/or just feel guilty that i never did them and then have to delete them to remind myself that this is all for fun and I can't hold myself responsible for churning out content 24/7 because I'm not a machine
ANYWAYS yeah ask meme this is from here!
"It's just a scratch. Probably." Karai grumbled, ducking down below cover as Donatello rushed over.
"Last time I heard you say that, you ended up losing an arm!" Donnie scolded. He lifted her arms out of the way so he could get a better look at the giant mess on her side.
Kraang laserfire continued to ricochet around them. The other three turtles were providing them safe cover. She hated fighting Kraang. Their stupid guns were actually capable of hurting her more than most human weapons. She hated it.
"In my defense, that was just a scratch." Karai kept an eye on their surroundings while Donnie took a wipe to her side, clearing the soot away so he could see any damage.
"That was a very bad scratch that resulted in you losing an arm." Donnie deadpanned. "And this? This is also not just a scratch." He hissed sympathetically as there was a distinctively large patch of damaged stone underneath the soot. "That one got you really close- it actually cracked up some chunks of stone, here."
Fortunately, he'd gotten more used to her pain tolerance and her lack of... pain response in general. Karai could barely feel this. It was akin to a sore spot. A very sore spot that stung when he kept pressing on it.
"Ah shit." Karai frowned. "They must be upgrading their guns, the old ones did more bruising than anything."
Donnie hummed in agreement as he grabbed a brush and began going over the wound to make sure there was no blood leaking. If Karai was bleeding, it meant the lasers had managed to actually break through her thick layers of stone and they would need to be very careful. If something actually managed to hurt Karai, it would hurt the turtles a lot worse.
Karai hissed unhappily at the bizarre feeling. She snarled and threw a knife at a Kraang that glanced their way.
"No blood." Donnie reported. "I think we can leave it for now and seal it up when we get back to the Lair."
"Great." Karai leapt up without a pause, blades drawn. "I've got a bone to pick with the asshole who got me."
"Is PR okay?" Leo shouted as the changeling became a blur on the battlefield.
"She's good!" Donnie shot him a thumbs up and yelped, dodging a laser blast. "We need to be more careful, they're upgrading their weapons!"
They all hissed sympathetically at the sound of crunching metal as Karai demolished a particular Kraang droid. The poor Kraang piloting it screamed and tried to sprint away on its own tentacles. Donnie made sure not to watch the resulting massacre. Raph let out a whoop.
When Karai had a grudge, she did not hesitate.
#my stuff#two daughters au#my writing#ask#ask meme#anonymous#not the exact phrase but they talk about it??#idk it's hard to do actual whumpy stuff with karai bcz she's v hard to hurt#and i wanted to give donnie a bit of a break ksghkdfjg#he got beat up a l o t in fic#2012 karai#2012 donnie#tmnt 2012#i should post these oneshots to ao3 soon#tw injury
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More notes! Please be aware that I could not follow a SINGLE damn fight scene in this manga, especially since I was reading it on a time crunch. This is going to be a recurring thing going forward. It's not Nightow's fault, I can't follow comic fight scenes for shit.
TriMax Notes: Vol. 5
TriMax #5.1: The City, and then the Banquet of the Dogs
Oh shit July Flashbacks!!!
OH. COUNT REVENANT. CONRAD!!! Vash was accused of murdering him!
They were…nice…to him…sobs???
Vash thinking of Meryl and pushing on…sobs…
Still unclear as to who zipped off Zazi’s arm but! Moving on.
TriMax #5.2: [Forgot To Write The Chapter Title LOL]
So…the Gauntlet had his…family? Loved one??
OH it was Gauntlet [who ripped off Zazie’s arm] so Zazie would stay out of it [Note: Seriously I couldn’t follow the action in this part at all]
…WOLFWOOD’S BEEN BLINDED THIS WHOLE TIME???? [Note: See previous bullet point lmao]
“Your only gift is the blessing of the gods of battle, yet you press on, inch by inch, you devil.” -Midvalley, about WW
“Found you, Player” *twirls hair* Soooooo there’s this undertaker
TriMax #5.3: Loss
“Even with your unseeing eyes…instinctively shielding her…how very intriguing!” THAT’S MY MAN
THEY WERE EXPERIMENTING I mean TBH this is just. Slightly less upsetting than TriSTamp now that I think about it.” [Note: I realized like halfway through writing the sentence that experimenting on Vash is just par for the course with Knives's bullshit]
“It’s okay. Just resonate with mine” what the FUCK [Note: I almost feel like this should be a CW but I don’t know how to phrase it. General Knives creepiness????]
“I hate you, Rem. You were the one who made him like this” YELLS
Grinding Millions Knives into the DIRT [Npote: I underlined dirt so hard it’s basically a solid black bar. I hate that man.]
TriMax #5.4: Villain
Oh he’s accidentally psychically feeding his memories to Gantlet and Meryl OH SHIT
Seems to be done through feather touch
WW pointing a gun at MIlly to try and scare her off and she WON’T GO AAHH
“Don’t talk to me about morals. We’ll both get our lips burned.” Okay Mildvalley that was pretty raw I’ll give you that
NO GO AWAY LEGATO
Wow tumblr wasn’t kidding he did not HESITATE to put Midvalley down when he tried to leave again [Note: He was probably looking for an excuse at this point tbh]
TriMax #5.5: Death Deal
OH HELL YES BIBLICALLY ACCURATE VASH
Oh hi New Body Zazie
OH…Legato has both Gauntlet and angle!Vash frozen and somehow his brain hasn’t popped??
This is THE most bonkers Mexican standoff
“Who’s going to play the next card?” IT’S MERYL STRYFE WITH THE STEEL DERRINGER!!!!
Legato you got shot in the face STOP TALKING
“If you cannot even be a pawn, then you die here, too!” -Legato
AND USING MIDVALLEY’S CORPSE TO SHOOT THEM LIKE!!!
Okay damn yeah good timing Elendira he was definitely about to angel arm blast EVERYONE
TriMax #5.6: Let Us Walk the Path to Redemption
“If I save one life, will it be as though I was born alone? Will that life be a good one?” (Vash) YELLS
“All that pent-up energy [is] looking for a way out” So yeah exactly like July in TriStamp
“He saved me. I’m as wicked as ever today. I was about to destroy that which he holds most dear” (Legato) There is. SO much to unpack in those 3 sentences
“The name I have tried to forget…the mistake I have tried to seal away…that which cannot be undone…I must…go on…” (Vash) saves this for the time travel AU…
“I don’t know! How can I know?! But [...] all those lives I extinguished…they were so kind…” (Vash) gnawing!!!
Okay yeah Legato is DEAD SET on killing Vash, and also was being carried by his…weird gimp suit servant until Elendira set in [Note: Again I have questions but I’m not sure I’ll like the answers]
“You…live and suffer. I won’t kill you. I’ll let you go on living, spitting up blood day by day in this shitty world” (Gauntlet) Oof
Vash burying the bodies and then bowing “incorrectly” so he can put more feeling into it ogghh!!!
AND THEN DRAGGING WW TO HELP FIX THE TOWN AAAA
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