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#with him it's more just cause he's the worst
fandomxo00 · 3 days
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Ok but imagine:
Logan taking care of you while you are on your period
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You held your son, Jack in your arms as you rested in bed, it was Saturday morning, and you usually slept in. You woke up earlier, the worst cramps waking you up and getting out of bed. Though you wished you could've just stayed in your husband's arms. But you went to the bathroom, took medicine before hearing your son stir from his room. Grabbing Jack and slinging him on your hip, getting your period right now was extra sad for you. You were trying to get pregnant again, so every period was a letdown.
You checked in on Bailey who was sound asleep, her noise machine playing her forest sounds. You sighed, looking over at the pretty girl as your son curled up in your chest. You felt your heart warm as you held him tight. If you couldn't have more kids, you knew it would be okay, you loved your two children more than anything in the world. But that's why you wanted more of them; you were in love with your kids in a different type of way. You just adored their personalities, the traits they get from both of you and then some all of their own. The way they learned and grew into their own beings, talking, singing, crying and dancing.
Even in the tough moments you were grateful that a tantrum was the problem, that you didn't have an outside force causing you to mistreat your children. You were calm, collected, waiting it out with them, letting them know you were there. If they got physical with you, you softly told them to stop, never touching them until they calmed down and said it was okay. Then you spoke about your emotions when you got calm, you explained that they weren't in trouble. You explained in different ways for both kids, trying to patient with them. And teaching them to not treat other people that way, that you did not deserve it and they didn't. You loved play fighting though, Logan love throwing you and the kiddos around. Letting you tackle him; he was 300 pounds of adamantium, so he usually wouldn't tackle you guys. Sometimes he would come over you, pretending to squish you, not putting his full weight down. You would laugh and try to push him off of you which was nearly impossible.
You were a bigger girl and everything but if he didn't want you to move, he wouldn't let you. Inside and outside of the bedroom. You shook your head out of your thoughts as you turned back towards the bedroom. Slowly walking in and sliding your son in the middle of the bed as Logan turned to rub at Jack's back. You slid into bed across from his your hand reaching out to rest on his forearm. Then you fell back asleep.
When you woke up, you were joined by Bailey as she laid on her dad's side, Logan gone. You frowned, getting out of the bed and wondering out of your room. You walked down the hall to find him as he stood outside with a cigar in his mouth. "Baby." You murmured, walking over to him.
"Should go back to bed."
"Not without you." You breathed, nuzzling into his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist. His hand came up to your hair, realizing how extra touchy you were, and the time of month. Logan knew that you needed him. So he stubbed out his cigar before leading you back to the bedroom. Cuddling up with the two kiddos.
During the day you rarely got out of bed, you don't really know how he did it. How Logan managed to entertain the kids and come help you whenever you went calling. Trying to slip in cuddles sessions so he could rub your belly and talk to you. He didn't know what to say most of the time but he knew you found his voice soothing. He'd do anything for you, the kids joined you for nap time before you all got out of bed for dinner and ice cream. Going out to eat with them was always an interesting task but Logan wanted to treat you. His hand clasping yours in the car, the two of talking quietly about his work trauma while the kids talk to each other in the back.
After dinner and ice cream, he made a detour to Target. Letting you pick out things for the house and a toy or two for the kids. You even snuck in a new lingerie set, something you hid until the cashier scanned in front of him. Logan lifted an eyebrow as the kids pointed at Starbucks. "Daddy." Bailey whined.
"You're not a getting a shake right after ice cream." Logan retorted as she crossed her arms over her chest. The same sass you gave him shining in her eyes.
"I wasn't gonna get a milkshake!"
"Oh really?" Logan laughed, glancing over at you for support as you shrugged.
"There's other drinks there." You highlighted
"Y/n-"
"Its on me." You hummed, as he finished tapping his credit card and you swiped it from his hands kissing his cheek as you walked over to Starbucks with the kiddos. You got him his favorite tea, something he'd never admit to anyone. You handed him his card as he scooped up Jack to put in back in the cart.
"I was gonna let you. Just didn't want Bailey's stomach to hurt." Logan mumbled as he leaned in to kiss you.
"I know just teasing you baby." You assured, patting his chest. As he gleamed down at you with a smile that reached his eyes as he brought his tea up to his mouth.
tags:@ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1
note: old man logan coming soon yall i got a couple going missed doing family fics
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menagerofmischief · 22 hours
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shrimp cocktail, cold appetizer, lobster, coca-cola, yes dessert, served by oscar piastri
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Dia's Diner Menu
shrimp cocktail rivals to lovers cold appetizer rough sex lobster "I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy" coca-cola somnophillia dessert aftercare
Oscar Piastri x Ferrari!driver!reader
TW: one bed trope, unprotected sex (wrap you willy please), sleep dry humping
WC: 2k
A/N: I enjoyed writing this one a lot. Also I wanted to say I'm so thankful to all of you that sent requests and that I can't wait to write all of them but you'll maybe have to be patient with me because I'm a student and am pretty busy with school. I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one.
Some bigger force, God or karma or fate or whatever else there is, was definitely out to get me. Because this had to be the worst fucking night of my life. I’m not being dramatic when I say that.
Why was this the worst night of my life?
We just made it to Singapore for the upcoming Grand Prix and went straight to our hotel. The whole grid was staying at the same place since it made things more convenient. I go up to the reception to check in and get the key to my room, all but ready to collapse into the mattress and sleep the jet lag off. 
“I’m so sorry Miss,” the receptionist says, tapping her fingers against the keyboard, glancing up at me every few seconds. Finally she looks up, her expression apologetic. “It seems there was a mistake with the booking and we double booked your room.”
I fight off the urge to groan and roll my eyes, instead plastering a smile on my face. “It’s fine, it’s not that big of a deal. Just put me in whatever room is available.”
She makes a face, looking down at the computer again and then returning her gaze to mine. “I really am sorry but there are no other rooms available right now.”
Now I really did groan. “Fantastic. Can I know who the other person occupying the room will be?”
Before the receptionist had the chance to answer, my worst nightmare in human form came up to the desk, standing right next to me. “Hello. I’m here to check in - it’s under Oscar Piastri.”
The woman - I finally glanced at her name tag, seeing her name was Alice - looked between us, then down at the computer before looking at us again. “Sir, as I was just explaining to the lady here, the hotel double booked your room by accident.”
“It’s fine just put me in a -”
“There’s no available rooms.” I cut him off. “Just the one.”
Oscar looked at me, narrowing his eyes. McLaren’s golden boy, affectionately nicknamed ‘the polite cat’ by the fans was the biggest thorn in my side for a long while now. Everything started back in F2 with our on track rivalry which grew with each race. Then I signed into F1, fulfilling my childhood dreams of racing in red and thought I escaped him. I thought too soon apparently because after my announcement post, his followed soon and I was once again back on track with him.
Did I have a reason to hate him? Absolutely! Was it awfully petty and possibly over-dramatic? Very likely. It was my first race in F2, I was about to finish P2 it was amazing. Then he crashed into me and drove us both into the wall, causing us both to DNF and lose out on a podium.
We have hated each other ever since.
“It’s okay - we’ll share.” Oscar’s voice brought me out of my thoughts, quickly turning my head to look at him.
“What!?”
Oscar took the key from Alice and dangled it in front of me, a smirk on his face. “I said we’re gonna be bunking.” He pulled the handle of his suitcase, “Come on then, Y/n”
✿ ✿ ✿
“You stay on your side of the room,” I said, putting the chair in the middle of the room to make it a half marker. “And I’ll stay on mine.” The one queen size bed would definitely be a problem as well, but one I would mention later.
“And how are you gonna go the bathroom since it’s on my side?” He asked, his voice holding a teasing tone.
“Bathroom if free ground, hallway too” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.
Oscar’s gaze dropped down, stayed for a few seconds and then his eyes met mine again. He hummed, “And if I wanna open the window then what? Since it’s on your side.”
“Don’t act smart,” I told him. “It doesn’t suit you.”
“You wound me!” He gasped, pressing a hand over his heart.
“Shame it’s not fatal.”
✿ ✿ ✿
This was definitely the weirdest night of my life.
With only one bed in the room, no couch and neither of us willing to put our body in uncomfortable positions sleeping on the chair or on the floor, night before practice - Oscar and I made an agreement to share the bed.
One of the extra blankets from the closet was bunched up and put down the middle of the bed separating the two us. Not that it served much purpose considering that it was kicked down and off the bed while we were sleeping.
I woke up, rubbing my eyes to adjust to the dark and then I felt it. The slow, yet desperately feral rolls, the pressure and the pleasure. I had to press a hand against my mouth to stop myself from moaning, taking in deep harsh breaths through my nose.
I came to a realization about three things, so goes:
Oscar had moved a bigger part of his body onto my side of the bed.
He had pulled me close and caged me in his arms sometimes during the night.
He was grinding his very much hard cock into me -  in his sleep.
My cheeks were on fire and it felt like the rest of my body was too. The pajamas, which I purposely picked out because of how light they were, felt suffocating now.
I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was done, my body moving on its own. One leg pushing slightly forward, opening just enough space for Oscar’s hips to chase mine and my ass slowly barely grinding back into him.
I was enjoying this much more than I should have and it was wrong. God, it was so wrong. But when his erection was rubbing so perfectly against me, I couldn’t bring myself to care.
I was wet, I knew I was. I could feel how soaked my panties had gotten and the uncomfortable feel of my slick underwear did not escape me. As the pressure increased I couldn’t help but let out a moan.
The noise felt deafening in the silent room and my eyes widened. Oscar’s body stilled and my breath caught in my throat, the dread of having woken him with my moans taking over me.
A moment passed, two moments passed. Then Oscar’s hands tightened around my body, pulling me even closer to him, my ass pressed just against the outline of his dick. One of his hands moved down my stomach, dipping into the waistband of my sleeping shorts and going straight down into my panties.
He ran a finger through my folds, coating it in my slick and it took everything in me not to moan. “You’re fucking dripping,” his voice in my ear made me freeze. Awake afterall. “This wet from me humping you? And here I thought you hated me.”
The pad of his finger touched my clit, a gasp falling from my lips at the pleasurable feeling. “Did you enjoy me rutting into you while I was sleeping, you dirty dirty girl?” He added more pressure, rubbing circles on my clit and this time I didn’t hold my moans back. “Woke up halfway through, when you started grinding your ass on me like a bitch in heat. You seemed so into it, I thought I’d just keep going.”
“Wasn’t,” I whispered.
“What was that?” He growled into my ear.
“Wasn’t grinding on you,” I said, through gritted teeth.
His fingers pinched my clit and my whole body surged forward, mouth falling open to let out a loud moan. “Don’t lie,” he said, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.
“Fuck you.”
“Oh don’t worry sweetheart, you will.”
Oscar pulled his fingers out of my panties, making me whine at the loss of friction on my clit. His chuckle vibrated through the room. He got up onto his knees on the bed, arms coming forward to grab my shoulders, and pulled me roughly so I was laying on my back.
I couldn’t help but look at him above me. His eyes were full of lust, pupils blown wide and cheeks red. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, he looked absolutely ethereal. 
“Tell me to stop,” he said, fingers hooking into the waistband of my sleeping shorts.
I held his gaze, a shaky breath falling from my mouth. “Don’t stop.”
In one move he pulled down both my shorts and my panties, throwing them behind him without a care. Then he took off his own shorts, followed by his boxers - that ended up being thrown somewhere too. He pulled me up enough to take my top off, and then pushed me down again, leaving me completely bare. 
Oscar leaned over me, his mouth drawn in a smirk, his breath hot on my face. “Tell me not to kiss you.”
“Kiss me,” I whispered. He didn’t waste a second, as soon as the words were out of my mouth he was surging forward, his lips pressing harshly against mine, tongue pushing into my mouth. He pulled slightly back, my lip caught before his teeth and he gently bit down, making me whine into his mouth.
“Fuck me,” I panted into his mouth. “Please just -”
I didn’t get to finish what I was saying as he pushed himself into me fully in one go, making me scream. His hand pressed against my mouth, muffling the noises I was making. “Do you want to wake the whole hotel up?” He asked as he began thrusting, pulling himself out until only the tic was still in me and then forcefully pushing back in again. “Some people came here to sleep, not to listen to you moaning like a whore on my cock.”
His other hand went between us to rub my clit. I was practically sobbing as he worked his fingers in fast circles around my clit while roughly thrusting into me. My vision was blurred with tears that were spilling from the corners on my eyes.
Oscar’s hand moved only a little, leaving room for me to speak but close enough for my lips to brush against his palm with each word. “Cum,” I babbled. “Gonna cum! Oscar, please!”
“Yeah?” He asked, his voice hoarse. “Gonna cum for me like a good little slut? Go on then - cum”
I came with a moan, wrapping my legs around his waist and caging him in. Oscar fucked me trough my orgasm, his own following. He twitched inside of me before cumming, painting my walls and making me whine at how full I felt.
He pulled out of me slowly and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. After a moment he returned with a wet, probably warm, towel in his hands. He kneeled on the bed and gently spread my legs with his hands.
“Fuck,” Oscar groaned. “I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy.” His fingers dipped to collect some of his cum which had spilled out of me and was slowly dripping towards my ass, and pushed it back into me, causing me to gasp.
He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead and somehow my cheeks burned ever hotter. After he gently cleaned me up and terrorized me to drink water, he laid down in bed next to me and pulled my body into his, arms wrapping around me.
“Are you finally going to let me take you out to dinner?” He asked, his voice husky and breath hot against the side of my face.
I hummed, my eyes barely open and already feeling sleepy. “Don’t crash into me while I’m winning on Sunday and we’ll see.”
“That was one time!”
I chuckled, placing my hands over his hand on my stomach. “Yeah, I’ll let you take me out to dinner.”
Believe it or not this might have actually turned out to be one of the best nights of my life.
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sailor-aviator · 3 days
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Fool's Fare: Chapter Twelve
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Fool's Fare: Chapter Twelve
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.
Content Warning: Talks of death, Lots of anxiety, Reader has a mental breakdown kind of, Abandonment issues surface hardcore, Talk of curses, Talk of magic, Major angst, Sea shanty, Feelings of hopelessness, Davy Jones reveal! I think that's everything, but please let me know if I missed anything!
Word Count: 4.2k
Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List
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The port of St. Augustine was much like any other port you had found yourself in. The marketplace bustled with activity, the sellers promoting their wears as others scurried about to and fro on the streets. The sun beat down, casting a fog of humidity that threatened to choke the air from your lungs.
It had been two weeks since the serpent’s attack, and the crew of the Hangman had been stranded in the large port, sequestering themselves to one of the local pubs until repairs to the broken mast were finished.
Jake had been in a foul mood since the encounter, the looming deadline heavy on his mind, and on more than one occasion you had woken up to the sound of his distressed murmurs as he slept beside you. He had flat out refused to leave your side for longer than a few minutes since the attack, anxiety and distress coloring his features every time you looked at him. You knew he feared losing you, you could feel it in the way he held you these days, the end drawing nearer with each passing of the sun across the horizon. But wasn’t it you who should be afraid of losing him? You weren’t the one in danger of falling victim to a curse.
A bothersome fly pulled you from your thoughts, the whining of its movement sparking irritation in your chest. It was too damn hot for the pesky thing to be bothering you. You pulled your hand out from under your chin, swatting at the insect as it flew just out of your reach. It zoomed back towards you, wings fluttering in your face as if to taunt you. An exasperated exhale escaped your lips as you glared daggers at the offending beast.
“You look miserable.”
You turned to see Nat approaching you slowly, a wry smile on her lips as you gave her a tight-lipped smile—an attempt you were sure came out as more of a grimace than an actual smile. You wiped the sweat drenched strand of hair out of your face, offering her a shrug as you turned your attention back to the street outside. She sighed, coming up to sit at the sill beside you. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the different groups of people as they flitted about the street. The silence grew more tense as the time dragged on, and you could tell that Natasha wanted to say something to you. Glancing at her from the corner of your eye, you saw her chewing on her bottom lip, deep in thought.
“How’s Mickey today?” You asked her. His screams of agony were still fresh in your mind, the scarlet on his clothes vivid in your mind as he writhed on the decks of the ship. Javy had been the one to stop the blood flow, securing the bandage around Mickey’s thigh tight enough to put a temporary fix to the problem without causing more damage. You watched as Javy and Reuben picked Mickey up on either end, carrying him towards the cabins. Mickey had already passed out, a layer of sweat coating his pallid skin. Nausea roiled in your stomach, your breathing coming out in quick spurts.
You jumped as Jake came up behind you, brushing your hand with his fingertips. Your eyes darted towards him, unease settled deep in your bones.
“Is he going to be okay?” You whispered, looking at the captain for any kind of answer. Jake sucked in a breath, and it occurred to you that you had never seen him look so at a loss.
“I don’t know,” he answered, hanging his head. His hands flexed at his side before balling them into tight fists. You looked from him back towards the sea. The serpent and the British ship were already out of sight as the Hangman limped towards shore. You were sure the men on the other ship were all dead, the serpent’s hunger sated until the next unsuspecting ship made its way into the waters.
“Those men,” you continued, brow furrowing in thought. “The one’s the serpent-”
You stopped yourself from finishing the sentence, pressing your lips into a thin line as Jake glanced at you, waiting.
“Are they dead?” You asked, looking back at him. You didn’t know how the curse worked in cases like this. Yes, they could be hurt. You knew that much. But would something like what had just occurred be enough to kill them?
Jake sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening as he dared to look back towards the water.
“I hope so.”
You had reached the port of St. Augustine early the next morning, the cold light of dawn at your backs as each crew member heaved a weary sigh. Reuben had departed the ship as soon as the gangway was in place, running to find a doctor to see after Mickey. The rest of the crew waited around anxiously, some busying themselves with tasks around the ship as everyone waited for news on Mickey’s condition.
“He’s doing a lot better today,” Nat told you, a tired grunt leaving her lips as she settled further back against the wall. You nodded, closing your eyes in a bid to ignore the heat that threatened to swallow you whole.
“Doesn’t change the fact that you still look miserable,” she prodded, earning a less than enthused grunt from you. You sighed, leaning up and stretching out your shoulders.
“I suppose I could be doing better,” you admitted, finally turning your full attention to her. She pressed her lips together, humming in agreement.
“The deadline is only a few days away,” she said, and your heart jumped at the reminder before curling in on itself. Her words were the exact reason you had been keeping to yourself the past week, dread filling you down to your very soul as the days loomed and the dreaded deadline approached faster and faster. The anxiety kept you awake well into the night, clawing at your mind until it was all you could think about. You hadn’t known sleep in days.
“Jake’s been awfully tense,” she pressed. “Rightfully so, I guess. Javy won’t show it, but I know he’s worried too. I can see it in the way he holds his shoulders. He fidgets more than usual too when he’s nervous. I do my best to soothe his worries, and I think he forgets for a little while, but…”
Her voice drifts off to silence, an air of uncertainty surrounding her. You understood what she was feeling. The moments of sleep Jake could get were spent in fitful movements as even his unconscious mind was unable to find peace amongst the chaos. You would curl up closer to him in those moments, resting your head against his chest and listening to his heartbeat. Fingers would glide up and down his arm, and your presence seemed to calm him enough that he would still, if only for a little while. You asked him early on what he dreamed of in those moments, but his eyes would glaze over as his lips pressed firm, a faraway look in his eyes before he would shake his head and walk away, shoulders hunched as if in defeat.
Bradley didn’t fare much better when you tried talking to him. The usually playful, happy-go-lucky man you knew and loved had all but disappeared. All that was left was a shell of a man who looked and sounded like your brother, but seemed to be a complete stranger to you now in these past days. You had tried talking to him, to get a sense of where his head was at, but much like your captain, no words would leave his lips. He would only stare at you, almost looking through you before turning and walking away.
You felt like you would lose your mind, like the concern and anxiety was building up so completely within you. It reminded you of how your mother once was when your father would leave for his voyages.
She’d pace around the house, busying herself with as many tasks as she could—sometimes repeating them two or three times in a bid to keep her hands busy and mind from drifting towards thoughts of the unimaginable. On more than one occasion, you’d come home to find her staring out towards the water, a faraway look in her eye. You always wondered what she was thinking about in those moments, but now you were sure you knew.
“I don’t think it’s possible to forget the ocean’s secrets,” you replied, focusing once more on the busy street outside. “The ocean will always remind you why it’s not to be crossed.”
Natasha didn’t respond, only looked at you. You didn’t acknowledge her, letting your mind wander to thoughts of what would happen if you all were to fail. Would the curse turn them into mindless monsters? Would the change be immediate? Or would you lose those you hold most dear slowly as their unslaked desire coursed through their veins for eternity?
Your friend heaved a heavy sigh before standing. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but must have thought better of it before turning on her heels and walking away. You wished you could provide her with some kind of comfort, some certainty that things would be okay. But, you could hardly convince yourself of it, let alone another.
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The afternoon passed slowly, your vigil by the window continuing on even as the pub filled with sailors and your own crew. Mickey had managed to heal enough to walk, though his usually golden skin still seemed somewhat dull after his experience. The crew drank as if there were no tomorrow, and you supposed there might not be. Locals took up space by the piano, different jigs and tunes ringing out amongst the crowd as several people joined in with lyrics. You wished you could join in the merriment, bring yourself to forget for just one moment that a mere guess wouldn’t decide your fate.
Jake, Bradley, and the rest of your friends sat hunched around one of the tables across from where you sat, none of them able to meet your gaze, and a mixture of anger and loneliness filled you. Is this what your days would look like? Would they go off and leave you behind to face a life of solitude? Would they expect you to forget them?
For another moment, you were reminded once again of your mother, only this time you remembered her as she waited for that last voyage. You could tell that something was different that time, the air more tense as she paced around your home. The song she would hum under her breath the only sound she would make for days. You thought of that song, how lonely and full of despair the words sounded. You thought of how sad your mother always sounded every time she would sing it, and before you even realized, the words were leaving your lips quietly, slowly building to be heard above the hum of conversation filling the room.
“I thought I heard the Old Man say: ‘Leave her, Johnny, leave her.’ Tomorrow you will get your pay, and it's time for us to leave her.”
Several heads turned towards you as you sang, your voice clear as you felt the emotion you had worked so hard to keep tamped down swirl within you.
“Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her.”
The conversation died down now, and you supposed you would feel self conscious under normal circumstances, but something within you longed to break free and be heard. You had long stayed quiet in fear of upsetting those around you with your own feelings. Of course, you had had your few moments where you couldn’t keep the worries and feelings within you, your fears bursting forth and out of you over the past few months on sea.
“Oh, the wind was foul and the sea ran high. ‘Leave her, Johnny, leave her!’ She shipped it green and none went by. And it's time for us to leave her.”
The conversation had stopped completely at this point, but you were only vaguely aware of your audience. The words themselves haunted you, and you knew how your mother had felt all those years ago. You wondered if she felt the exact moment she had lost your father to the sea.
“Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her.”
Had your father been scared in his final moments? Did the waves tower over him life in the song you now sang? Had he faced the towering waves head on in the way he faced everything in life? Or had looking death in the face been too much for him? Did he think of you? Your mother? Bradley? Or did he lament the things he hadn’t done, the things he had failed to do?
“I hate to sail on this rotten tub. ‘Leave her, Johnny, leave her!’ No grog allowed and rotten grub. And it's time for us to leave her.”
Several people within the pub now joined in your singing, voices ringing out in unison. For the first time since you started, you dared a look over at the table where the others sat. Remorse colored both Jake and Bradley’s faces, the whisper of tears in their eyes as they watched you. Your heart squeezed so tight, you wondered for a moment if it would burst. You hadn’t meant for the tears to flow, and you were shocked when a cool, night breeze blew in from outside, cooling the trickle that streamed down your cheeks.
“Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her.”
You choked on the words, unable to continue as those around you continued on. Your world would change in a few days, and there was nothing you could do about it. For the first time, hope seemed too far out of reach, slipping through your grasp as the realization that you would truly be alone for the first time gripped you tightly, refusing to let go.
“We swear by rote for want of more. ‘Leave her, Johnny, leave her!’ But now we're through so we'll go on shore. And it's time for us to leave her.
Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her.”
You let out a quiet sob as you pushed off from your seat, practically running out of the pub. The door banged against the wall with a loud crack, the echo of laughter and conversation chasing after you into the dark street. Another tune started up, a jollier shanty than the one you had led everyone in, but the joy and merriment found in the pub did not reach you in that moment, despair digging its claws into you as you stalked down the street with no mind to where you were heading.
The world swam around you, blurred by your tears. Your chest and head hurt from how hard you sobbed, your arms wrapped around your middle in an attempt keep yourself together, to keep yourself whole.
You staggered, coming to a stop next to building, leaning your weight against the sturdy structure as you fought to gain back your composure. A hand landed on your shoulder, ripping you out of your breakdown. You looked up with wet, wide eyes to meet a sea of concerned green.
Jake didn’t hesitate to try and pull you close, moving to wrap his arms around you in a soothing gesture, but you shook your head, pressing a hand to his chest to keep him away. His brow furrowed in confusion, thumb reaching up absentmindedly to wipe away your tears. You jerked away from him, shaking your head more vigorously.
“No,” you croaked, another sob wracking through you.
“Guppy,” he started, taking a step closer to you, but you shoved at him this time.
“No,” you stated more firmly, shooting him an angry, wild look that had him balking. “I don’t want your pity, or your comfort, or anything else you’re trying to bestow upon me. Not when it’ll all be for nothing.”
“What are you talking about?” He sighed out, an edge to his tone. You sniffled, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand as you attempted to stand tall.
“I can’t keep relying on you,” you uttered. “Not when this time in only four days, I won’t have you anymore. I’ll be alone. I’ll have no one except maybe Nat, but even that’s not a guarantee. In a few days' time, you’ll face Davy Jones, and not knowing how that will end, terrifies me.”
Jake didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there and watched you with an indiscernible expression. Finally, he set his jaw and stepped close, pulling you into his arms. A large hand cradled your face, pulling your face up towards his.
“I’m not leaving you, sweet girl,” he said, thumb stroking across your cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut as a new wave of tears threatened to spill over.
“You don’t know that,” you whispered in return.
“I do though,” he retorted. “I know everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. Even if I’m doomed to live a cursed life, a life where I will never know peace or satisfaction again, it would be a far worse fate to not have you by my side.”
You couldn’t stop the sob that shook you, choosing instead to hide your face against his chest. Jake let out a low hum, smoothing his hand over the back of your head as he rocked you gently until the sobs died down once more.
“Trust me, Guppy,” he murmured, moving his hand to dig something out of his coat. “This will buy us our freedom.”
You turned your head to see him holding up the Soul of Polaris, the gem seeming to glow in the moonlight. You swallowed thickly, watching as it rotated slowly in his hold.
“What does it show you?” You asked quietly, gripping his shirt a little harder in your hands.
“What?” Jake asked, sounding perplexed.
“When I first saw it,” you explained, “the man who had it said that it guided a person to what it was they needed most.”
You turned your head to gaze up at him. “So, what is it that it shows you?”
Jake looked at you for a moment, eyes wide in surprise before he shifted his focus towards the gem. His brow furrowed once more as he pressed his lips together, pondering what he should say.
“We should head back,” he said finally, pocketing the gem once more as he guided you back down the street.
Four days later, the newly repaired Hangman rocked in the ocean waves as it headed up the coast towards North Carolina. The air aboard the ship had grown thick with mounting tension and anxiety, the air so thick you swore you could cut it with one of Bob’s kitchen knives.
The fog that surrounded the waters didn’t help matters, setting a decidedly somber mood as the crew waited for their fates to be decided. Sunset was approaching, something you could tell despite the blanket of fog that hid the sun from view. Jake hadn’t stopped pacing the length of the deck for two hours, and just watching him had you on edge. He had already snapped at three crew members for, admittedly, small infractions, and you were starting to wonder if he’d keep his sanity long enough to see Davy Jones at this point.
“Captain,” Javy called from the helm, face tight with his own anxiety, though his tells were less obvious compared to everyone else’s. Jake’s head snapped up to look at him, back rigid as he paused mid-step.
“We’re here,” Javy announced, dipping his head at his best friend. Jake sucked in a breath, teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek. After a moment, he blew out, nodding his head as he swallowed thickly.
“Yeah,” he muttered, nodding more determinedly. “Yeah, alright. Bradshaw, Guppy. You’re with me. Everyone else, stay put until I get back.”
You were shocked that he picked you and Bradley, certain he would have chosen Javy or Natasha. You didn’t say anything as you followed him and Bradley towards one of the lifeboats. Natasha already stood by the railing, waiting for the captain to approach.
“You’re leaving me behind?” She challenged as you all approached, Javy descending the stairs at the same time. Jake raised his chin at her, a grimace pulling on his lips.
“I trust you and Javy to look after the ship while I’m away,” he explained. “But, I still need people I can trust with me—people I can depend on if this goes south. Bradshaw will act as my muscle, and we’ve seen how things react around Guppy.”
Natasha mulled over his words for a moment before nodding in agreement.
“Be careful out there,” she implored. “We’ve already had one crew member mangled by something magical.”
Jake shot her a grateful look before turning his attention to Javy who had saddled up behind her. The two shared a silent exchange before clasping their forearms and pulling each other in for a one-armed hug. The two pulled away at the same time, and Javy offered the captain a nod.
“Good luck,” he said. Jake nodded back at him before turning back towards the lifeboat. He let out a long, weary sigh before stepping forward with you and Bradley not far behind.
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The fog clung to your skin, giving you the feeling of walking through water as the sand shifted beneath your feet. Jake and Bradley had hauled the boat up out of the water and further onto the beach before the three of you set out to find the spot where Davy Jones would be waiting.
The wind whipped around you, ruffling your clothes and sending a chill down your spine. You ignored it, knowing what lay ahead of you already had a frigid feeling coursing through your veins as the sky began to grow darker. Jake’s pace began to increase as the clock counted down, his hands clenching and unclenching as the three of you continued on.
“Do you know where we’re going?” Bradley asked, peering at the captain from the corner of his eye. Jake’s frown deepened as he shot the brunette a sharp look.
“Yes,” he snapped, stopping suddenly. “This is the place.”
You looked around, noting the cliffs that hung just above your head, the grass swaying in the wind as the waves crashed against the rocky shore. Bradley looked around as Jake stared down at his feet. You perched atop one of the rocks, bringing your knees up to your chin as your attention flickered between the two men.
“Did we miss him?” Bradley prodded, hands in his pockets as he walked around in a circle. “Shouldn’t he be here already?”
“I don’t know Bradshaw,” Jake snapped once more, an irritated glint in his eye. “We didn’t exactly exchange letters on what time to meet.”
A familiar hum prickled at the back of your neck, your back straightening as a knowing feeling overcame you. You twisted your neck to the right, looking down the beach towards the opposite way you came. In the growing shadows and through the fog, a tall figure began to emerge, their coat billowing behind them.
“Look!” You exclaimed, scrambling to your feet as you pointed a finger at the figure. Jake and Bradley turned to where you gestured, postures alert and on guard as they spotted the figure too. The humming grew in intensity as the figure drew closer, but there was no sense of danger that accompanied it like there had been with Thetis, the sirens, and the serpent. No, in place of danger, there was only the sense of familiarity, and confusion tickled at the back of your mind.
The fog and shadows obscured the figure as it stopped by some rocks a few yards away. You squinted, trying to make out any discernable features, but you couldn’t help but feel you knew the person who stood in front of you. A soft scratch sounded as the figure struck a match, the small flame illuminating his face as he lit the pipe that hung at his lips. Shock coursed through you as you recognized the blue eyes and weathered face that stared back at your group, the embers of tobacco letting out a puff of smoke as he exhaled.
You blinked, not quite believing what you were seeing, and you knew Bradley’s expression must have mirrored your own in that moment.
“Tom?”
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A/N: Wooooooooow! I can't believe it's finally here, y'all! What do we think? How are we feeling? What on earth is going to happen next???
It feels so good to finally get this one off my chest, I've been sitting on it for sooooooo long! Like...the amount of times I almost slipped up and told y'all everything is embarrassing, quite frankly.
As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @sailoraviator-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!
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innerfare · 3 days
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Angsty Sabo Headcanons 
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Summary: A collection of angsty Sabo headcanons
Genre: Angst
CW: None // SFW
———
Sometimes, Sabo can’t stand the sight of his scars, especially the one on his face. It’s actually the reason he has a little skincare routine. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t overcome his early childhood education, which taught him that men like him are such horrible monsters. He thinks he looks like a monster.  
Sometimes when he gets undressed and turns the shower on, he stares in the mirror while he’s waiting for the water to heat up. He ends up focusing on his scars and wondering if he deserves them. A small part of Sabo thinks he does deserve them. Despite fighting to abolish the system that teaches kids they were born wrong and recognizing it is, in fact, the system that is wrong, Sabo just can’t escape the feeling that he was born wrong. 
Sabo didn’t attack Dragon that day because he wanted to take a shot at the strongest guy on the field, he did it because on some level, he sensed something paternal coming from the man, and it made Sabo lash out; he wanted to kill Dragon like Ace wanted to kill Whitebeard.
“I’m sorry he died, but at least he didn’t die in handcuffs.” This is the only thing that Dragon said to Sabo about Ace, and Sabo latched onto it. At least he didn’t die in handcuffs. He repeats the phrase over and over in his head, a mantra he chants internally every day. He keeps hoping it will make him feel better, but it doesn’t. It makes him feel worse to know the best his brother could have hoped for was to die like a man and not a dog; he shouldn’t have died at all. 
Sabo knows Ace died thinking Sabo would be waiting for him on the other side. He tries to comfort himself with the thought that Ace will be waiting for him, but it doesn’t help. It makes him feel selfish to think Ace died first. It should have been me. 
Sabo doesn’t feel good about having cheated death. He feels like a fraud, a phony, a mistake. He feels like he should be dead. And no matter how many battles he fights and wins, no matter how many enemies he defeats, no matter how many adventures he goes on, he can’t escape the feeling he’s wasting his second chance. Ace wouldn’t waste it the way I am, he tells himself. 
Sabo has nightmares about Ace’s death. The worst part about them is that he has no idea if they’re accurate. Is that how it happened? Is that what it looked like? Is that what adult Ace’s voice sounded like? Is that what Luffy’s scream sounded like? He has no fucking clue, and it tears him up inside. 
A doctor gave Sabo some pills to help him sleep dreamlessly through the night, but taking them makes him feel guilty, as if he’s escaping the punishment he rightfully deserves for not saving Ace. 
Sabo hates sleeping alone. He grew so accustomed to sharing with Luffy and Ace, and even after suffering amnesia, never got used to being alone in bed. Sabo will show up at Koala’s door sometimes at two in the morning and ask if he can sleep with her because being alone reinforces the feeling that he somehow abandoned his family.
When he gets his memories back, Sabo starts sending a little bit of money every month to Dadan. He views it as recompense for the pain he’s certain he caused her by not protecting the boy she raised from the cradle. He won’t go visit her because he’s terrified she’ll scorn him for Ace’s death and turn him away from her doorstep. 
Sabo has a page at the back of his journal where he writes down all the jokes he thinks would make Ace laugh, in addition to other things he wishes he could tell his brother.
———
Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!
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redocity · 1 day
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Can I get a request with Buck and a reader with a mischievous cat who somehow keeps breaking into Bucks place so he has to keep calling the number on its tag and you (his neighbor) has to keep coming round to take the cat back? And both of you are crushing on each other hard and one day you tie a note to your cats collar asking him on a date?
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FURRY FRIEND INTRUDER — E.BUCKLEY
your cat has an affinity for crashing bucks apartment. he doesn’t mind, it means he gets to speak to you again.
evan buckley x gn!reader | 1.0k | fluff | masterlist.
a/n — this is the cutest thing ever, thanks for the request, lovely 🫶
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Buck had gotten used to many things in his life—chaos, fires, rescues—but the one thing he hadn’t expected to get used to was the soft sound of paws padding across his floor at the crack of dawn. Again.
He blinked awake, groggy, and looked over at the foot of his bed where the intruder sat; Your cat, Winston. The black and white ball of trouble was staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes, tail flicking back and forth. This was the third time this week.
With a groan, Buck sat up and rubbed his face. “Winston, how do you keep getting in here?” he asked, but the cat only blinked lazily and jumped down, padding toward the kitchen as if he owned the place.
Buck sighed and grabbed his phone. He’d memorized your number by now, not that he’d ever admit it.
Every time Winston showed up, Buck found himself torn between frustration and the absurd excitement of getting to see you again.
It wasn’t the worst thing in the world—having an excuse to call you—but he wondered if you’d think he was incompetent at keeping his windows shut.
He shot off a quick text.
Winston's here again, I think he’s plotting something, should I be worried?
It only took a minute for your reply to pop up.
Haha, he’s got a taste for adventure
I’ll come get him, you’re sure you’re not letting him in in your sleep?
Buck chuckled, shaking his head. There was something easy about texting you. He couldn’t help the way his heart sped up at the idea of seeing you, even if it was just because of your sneaky cat.
Ten minutes later, there was a soft knock at his door. Buck opened it, finding you standing there with an amused smile and a slight flush on your cheeks. You had that look again—the one that made Buck feel like he could melt right there on the spot.
“Sorry about Winston,” you said, stepping inside. “He only ever seems to do this with you. Maybe he likes your vibe?”
Buck laughed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “Well, if Winston’s got good taste, I can’t argue with that.”
You laughed softly, and Buck couldn’t help but grin wider. God, you were gorgeous.
He tried to play it cool, but the truth was, he was crushing on you, hard. It didn’t help that every time you came by to pick up your cat, you were always so sweet and flustered about it, and he couldn’t stop imagining what it’d be like to spend more time with you.
Outside of these bizarre cat-retrieval encounters, of course.
Buck’s heart did a funny little flip as Winston wandered over, rubbing against your leg as if he wasn’t causing all this trouble on purpose.
“Do you want some coffee before you take him back?” Buck asked, half-hoping you’d say yes.
You smiled, and for a second, he thought you might stay, but you gave a soft laugh. “Thanks, but I’ve gotta dash to work. Maybe next time?”
“Next time,” Buck repeated, feeling oddly hopeful. “I’ll hold you to that.”
You grinned and scooped up Winston, waving as you left, leaving Buck with an odd sense of longing that lingered long after you were gone.
It happened again the next day. And the day after that. It was almost like clockwork: Winston showing up in Buck’s apartment, and you coming to fetch him. The more it happened, the more Buck found himself looking forward to your visits, no matter how brief.
But today, something different happened.
Buck had just gotten back from a long shift when he heard the familiar sound of Winston’s paws padding across his kitchen counter, the familiar ball of fluff yawning in what almost felt like a joke on his own tiredness. He let out a small laugh, already reaching for his phone.
As Buck scratched Winston’s chin, he noticed a small piece of paper tied around his collar. Frowning, he untied it and unfolded the note.
So, since Winston keeps bringing us together, how about we make it official? Would you like to have dinner with me?
Buck stared at the note for a moment, his mind racing. Did this mean what he thought it meant? A wide grin spread across his face as he grabbed his phone, his fingers quickly typing out a message.
I think Winston’s trying to tell me something. I’d love to go to dinner with you, you free Friday night? 6?
He didn’t have to wait long for a reply.
Friday sounds perfect! I’ll keep Winston out of your hair until then
Buck smiles down at his phone screen. Then another message pops up.
Maybe :)
He laughed, looking down at the cat who was now purring contently under his hand. “Looks like you’re a little matchmaker, huh?” he said, scratching behind Winston’s ears.
Winston just purred louder, and Buck couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement for Friday night. Maybe having a mischievous cat as a neighbor wasn’t so bad after all.
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hee0soo · 1 day
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Left me waiting - A S[e]oul Story -2-
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Pairing — Kim Hongjoong x Foreigner!Reader
Summary — 2 phones and 2 people staring at them for days... neither of them knowing what to do or think...
Genre — fluff
AU/Trope Info — Idol!Au, SliceofLifeAu
Wordcount — 1.1k
Warnings — none
Rating — sfw
Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!
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Unsure what to do, you stared at the piece of paper Hongjoong had given you 3 days ago during your visit at KQ. The writing on it seemed to glare at you as you contemplated on what to do with it.
Should you really text him like he had asked?
So far you had not had the guts to actually open a new chat for him, hadn’t even saved his number yet as you didn’t know if it was a smart idea.
All the things that could go wrong were racing through your head. What if he thought you were boring, or if he would get in trouble for handing out his privat number just like that! Or even worse, what if a sasaeng somehow caught wind of what had transpired inside the company 3 days ago?!
It just didn’t seem like a good idea in your mind.
And yet here you were. Late at night, bundled in your hotel room blanket with the little note in one hand and your phone in the other.
It would only take one press of your finger and his number would have been saved, or you could just go back, not save it and throw the paper into the trash. The matter would have been solved either way.
You wondered if he waited for you to text him. Wondered if he was waiting or if he had already forgotten about the encounter. A part of you wished he had while the other part, the part that was selfishly hoping he remembered you, did not.
You looked back down at the note. The scribble looked a bit messy in your opinion, but it fit him.
Hesitant you typed in the number to save it for now. The text icon seemingly teasing you as it sat there innocently like it was not causing a raging storm of anxiety inside your head.
Groaning in frustration you flopped back into the pillows on the bed.
So what if you texted him, huh? What was the worst thing that could happen? After all, it was him who had willingly given his number to you, not the other way around and if Hongjoong had truly changed his mind about this, then the worst thing happening was just not getting an answer at all.
That, you could actually live with.
And so you quickly typed something into the message bar.
Uhm hi - Send 11:43 pm
I don’t know if you remember me but you kinda gave me your number a few days ago - Send 11:43 pm
It’s y/n btw - Send 11:44 pm
---------
Tired and ready to drop dead where he was standing, Hongjoong followed his members inside their dorm.
For once, he had actually managed to part ways with his studio without having the others drag him out by the hair. Preparations for the upcoming comeback were always exhausting, but this time he seemed to struggle more then usual.
“You good, hyung?” Mingi asked in passing with his eyebrow raised almost into his hairline. The smaller rapper, waved his concern off with a nod.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just could use some sleep.”
Mingi took it. They all knew what the leader meant as it was a common thing to be felt in the group and especially for their second oldest it was almost like he was just dragging himself through those days.
“The bathroom is free right now if you want,” Seonghwa suggested from his place on the couch. He had gotten home a bit earlier with Wooyoung and Yeosang and had both of them pressed to his sides. Yeosang was snoring gently against his shoulder, not at all catching what was happening on the TV while their second youngest was playing dome game on his phone.
Hongjoong knew that Seonghwa hadn’t meant his words as a suggestion but more like a silent demand for him to hurry up and go to bed already and while the rapper would have fought him on any other day, today he just accepted it.
He dragged himself to the bathroom, quickly getting rid of his clothes to step into the shower.
The hot water running down his body let his tense shoulders relax, warming his hurting muscles from dance practice and soothing the pain as best as it could.
Hongjoong let his thoughts run wild, his mind going back to his phone where he was still hoping to get a message from the cute woman that had brought his airpods back to him.
But now, 3 days later, there was still nothing. His hope was slowly dyeing with every passing hour and he wondered if he had come on to strong.
Maybe you had gotten rid of the paper he had given you or even worse, sold it so someone! Or maybe he had let the managers gotten into his head with their possible horror stories about what could have happened.
Was it stupid to just hand his private number to you, an atiny who had obviously known who he was just based on the fact that you knew where to find him on a random Tuesday? Possibly.
But if you had really wanted to sell him out, then why did you bring his belongings back to him in the first place? So no, Hongjoong did not think that you sold it to anyone. The missing spam texts from random people was another clue to that.
Sighing he washed up.
Maybe he should just give up waiting. If you hadn’t texted now, it was highly unlikely that you were going to at this point. However he did feel his ego get a little hit in the process.
Hongjoong shut off the water just as someone knocked on the door.
“Hyung can you hurry? I still need to shower too!” San whined through the wooden door as he dried himself off with the towel waiting on their toilet.
“I’ll be out soon, San-ah!” he yelled a muttered a loving “Brat..” to himself.
San sauntered away and while the leader finished his skin care, he didn’t notice his phone on the counter lighting up with new messages.
Only when he was out and in his room already did he almost drop his phone when he saw it.
Grinning happily into his pillow he typed back…
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Taglist: @lelaleleb @roronoas-wife
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finalvortex · 2 days
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Completely overanalysing Shadow Generations: Dark Beginnings Episode 1
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The opening is a deliberate parallel to the scene leading into Maria's death (images taken here from Shadow '05, although this scene is also in SA2). If you're paying attention you can immediately tell it's a fakeout, though: there's no alarm blaring, the lighting is blue rather than red, and Maria is pulling Shadow along instead of the other way around.
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It's the aurora borealis. You can only see them from certain latitudes down there, but up here, we can see the whole...
Maria's a nerd.
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Shadow is immediately prepared to catch Maria when she collapses.
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The low gravity here only keeps your condition in remission. You should know better than to exert yourself.
This is new information I think? I don't think this makes scientific sense but I guess it provides a justification for why Maria is up here aboard the ARK beyond 'that's where the research is being done'. Only, the ARK was a space colony, there were other civilians aboard it as well, like the future GUN commander.
I can't wait for the day when we can finally return. I was created here. I don't know if there's a place for me on Earth.
I just wanted to highlight this exchange as significant to Shadow's overall character arc across his history, being one where he has carved out a place for himself on earth.
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Love the way Maria comforts shadow here.
You and grandfather are doing your best. I'm just as happy to spend time with you here, while you both research-
I think this is just awkward wording, but surely Shadow isn't doing any researching?
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My boyyyy
Hull breach in the experimental weapons wing! Multiple subjects are free of containment!
Multiple subjects? Given the events of Lost Impact, things are just escaping from here all the time, huh.
Here's the entries on this incident from Gerald's journal in Sonic Battle:
The higher ups are threatening to shut down this research facility. I had no choice but to hand them the Gizoid to buy more time for my research. I tried to be careful and commanded it to never absorb any dangerous technologies. However, I have heard that other researchers have been making the Gizoid absorb weapons. Apparently, the way to cause the Gizoid to form a new "Link" is to show it power that surpasses that of its former master. While this poses immense danger, I cannot risk losing Maria.
My worst fears have come true. The Gizoid has absorbed enough weaponry and technology that it has started to go out of control. The resulting rampage resulted in the destruction of most of the "Ark." ... I have deciphered the rest of the stone tablet. It says, "When the Gizoid had learned all that it could, it became a god of wrath, and all was destroyed." The researchers somehow managed to subdue the Gizoid and sealed it away.
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That robot was heading towards Grandfather's lab! Shadow, you have to save him!
Why was Emerl - uh, well, I guess Project Gizoid at this point - headed directly for Gerald? If he was overloaded with power, like at the end of Sonic Battle, he should just be destroying things indiscriminately, right? So... was this a deliberate ploy by GUN to get rid of Gerald?
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Maria grabbing Shadow's hand breaks the illusion briefly and triggers a trauma-induced flashback (forward?) to the GUN soldier shooting her. Compare with the actual scene from Shadow '05:
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Again, why is Emerl specifically targeting Gerald here?
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Not much to say about the fight scene aside from the fact that it's really well animated, and it happens with no background music to emphasize the weight of the blows being thrown. It's also really cool how Emerl copies Shadow's spin attack - you don't need to know how the Gizoid functions for that to be a cool visual, but it's a nice nod if you do.
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Ok this is really confusing me. Is there any mention of GUN having a space fleet anywhere? Where did these things come from? They don't even share the same aesthetic as other GUN vehicles, they look more like the Egg Fleet.
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Nice look at Shadow's Air Shoes from below the glass floor.
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Next Shadow lands into Gerald's cell on Prison Island, which raises the question: why is this in Shadow's memories? Is this just his memory of the recording from SA2? Or was Shadow not put on ice until after Gerald's execution? We know it wasn't immediately after the ARK was destroyed, since he was around long enough for Gerald to alter his memories.
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There is a bit of static distortion here, with an analog effect that implies it might just be the video.
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On the other hand, we actually get these very brief flashes of Gerald's execution here, which we don't see in SA2 itself.
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The professor gets farther and farther away from Shadow. He can no longer reach him.
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Shadow then falls into a red sky, with bits of debris floating all around him, reflecting the final battle against Devil Doom in Shadow '05.
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Interestingly, this scene is mixing imagery from both Gerald and Maria's deaths. The image of the GUN soldiers is the firing line that killed Gerald, and the sound of the lightning turns into automatic gunfire, as opposed to the single pistol shot that killed Maria.
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Finally, Shadow falls into the giant face and outstretched hands of Black Doom.
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Waking up from his nightmare in a panic, Shadow uses that damn fourth chaos emerald* to Chaos Spear this unfortunate tree.
*Okay, the fourth chaos emerald was the white one.
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The moon looks so good.
Shadow stands in a field surrounded by lilies, a flower which can be used to symbolise purity as well as death, and is a flower commonly used at funerals. In particular, they are often placed on the graves of children.
That was no mere nightmare. And it all began in view of the ARK. Could he have survived? No, that can't be. I need answers.
Shadow seems to think the sight of the ARK is what triggered this nightmare. I think the only 'he' that makes sense here is Black Doom, since Gerald and Emerl are both pretty definitively dead.
Based on the trailer, I think from here Shadow is going to collect Team Dark to raid an Eggman base so they can obtain a rocket to get up to the ARK.
The song that plays over the credits is a remix of Throw it All Away. I have no idea why it shows footage of the biolizard fight, beyond "this is the Sonic Adventure 2 focused episode".
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Sparks and Showers Part 1
//My first attempt at writing for @tunadunanana ‘s OC, the Phoenix Maiden, affectionately named Birdie. Tuna, this story turned out so much longer than I was expecting and planning, I really hope I did your Birdie correctly because this is a lot of writing for her to be completely out of character 🤣🤣 if she is I do apologize.
This is a SFW story, no warnings, not proofread to do forgive any spelling errors; MOD//
Summary;
The Journey has been complete, Battles won, and Memories restored. Birdie and the Newly Awaken & Reincarnated Sun Wukong are making their way back to their home mountain of flowers and fruit. But when they stop to rest, the creatures of the forest make it hard to relax.
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🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜
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Time can be a beautiful thing when it runs in your favor. And it can be painful when it is against you.
That was a world defining truth that Birdie had come to know incredibly intimately.
Matters of the heart usually fought with Time you see, clashing in the worst of ways. Days seem to stretch for far too long with the Heart was grieving, and when the heart was at its happiest time flew faster than any falcon.
During the final battle the Destined One had had with the stone shell of the king who had once unknowingly held her heart, Birdie wished time could fly faster, to get past this awful moment.
The irony wasn’t lost upon the Phoenix Maiden that not even hours earlier, when they were bantering back and forth, she had wished time could slow… just a bit. The maiden setting aside her pain at seeing her dear friend in the face of this stranger who had become her friend as well,
But there were also occasions when time seemed to slow in the good moments as well.
After that previously mentioned battle for example; When the dust had settled, when that radiant light that was oh so familiar faded, when the elderly monkey that held that awful awful headband took a step back, when she saw her friend’s own head still free of that golden chain….
When he stood up…
When he turned to look at her when she took a hesitant step forward… and recognition flashed.
“Birdie?” His eyes widened and he smiled.
Birdie felt her breath catch in her lungs as - for the first time in hundreds of years - she allowed herself to hope…
Because that smile - oh that smile - that was His…
Time slowed as she took a few steps closer. The wings of hope spreading ever wider in her chest. The pair took each other in.
“Wukong?” Her voice, usually so melodic and sweet, cracked under the force of the emotions that were cascading through her. Part of her was scared to make a noise, to break this fragile moment in fear that it was just some cruel illusion, another dirty trick from the gods.
This Wukong, who carried himself the same, still standing in that familiar way that favored the hip opposite of his Staff… the familiar way his tail barely moved as he was taking something in… it was all Him… but there was a look in his eye that was a bit… unfamiliar… Older, wiser? Only that capricious Time would be able to tell….
But, this Wukong took a slow step forward, Helping the Phoenix Maiden close the distance just a bit more… and let out a soft Hooting Chirp, a curious sound… a question?
It was such a little sound…
But it caused the Phoenix Maiden to drop her Bow, Arrows and her Bag into the water uncaringly as her brought her hands to her mouth to cover the Sobs that shook her body. Every dam within her breaking as emotions surged forward, overtaking her in an overwhelming force.
He was back! It was Him! He was Back!
She ran to close that distance as he reached forward to receive her. And they shared an embrace so tight that no force on heaven or earth could’ve separated them in that moment.
They clung to each other desperately, afraid to let the other go in fear that this was all a perfect dream.
But Wukong was the first to feel relief course through him as he felt her tears soaking his fur on the side of neck… because never, not even in his unconscious and hibernative state, had he ever imagined her crying in such a way. And he knew this was real.
He held her tighter to him, wrapping his arms around her in a force that tried to shield her from everything, to keep her secure even as she fell apart.
As for the Phoenix Maiden,
The sweet woman with such joyful colors that mocked her ever mourning being, the woman who wore loyalty on her skin and her heart on her sleeve even as the world around her crumbled, the woman who began this journey to give herself closure and possibly make peace knowing her dearest friend had gone before she could tell him how she felt and the feelings she held - Because why rush to spill your heart when you were supposed to have eternity?
For the first time in Hundreds of years… the Tears she were shedding, the sobs that were making her tremble…
They weren’t of grief.
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🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜
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The next couple days were a joyful blur for the Phoenix Maiden, reconnecting with her dear monkey, speaking the words in her heart that she never had a chance to say before. The absolute joy at hearing him accept her feelings and validate them by matching them with his own.
There were many talks of expectations, of what they desired from one another, the fears they carried, the love they had, the future they wanted… but alas those stories cannot be told here, for they were private and for each others ears only.
And of course, not all moments were good. You see, the trauma they had gone through didn’t magically disappear with the presence of the other.
Poor Birdie was reminded of this first hand when she had a nightmare of her world being over again. Dreamed of blood on her hands, desperately reaching for a body that was always just out of reach. No one responding as she screamed for help.
When Wukong had finally able to shake her awake from that unconscious horror, she had clung to him for hours, her cheek against his chest, her ears focused on the steady beating of his heart. The pair holding each other until her trembles faded and a dreamless sleep swept her up once more.
Sun Wukong wasn’t spared either. (Though one could argue seeing his dear friend be tormented so was torture enough.)
No, the immortal monkey king too had bad dreams, though his weren’t always at night. As he settled into this new body and the memories it held before he returned, the Great Sage now found himself plagued with visions and hallucinations as past and future clashed in his mind.
Both the present body and his past mind struggling to find their equilibrium, his Yin and Yang out of balance.
Visions of being defeated, his body being torn apart, Phantom Pains leaving him resting his head in the Phoenix Maiden’s lap as she attempted to sing away the pain that had long since passed, past battles with modern foes, voices on the wind that mimicked his people but were wrong, illusions of a weapon or claw about to strike his side before fading before the hit could land. He would turn and snarl at the sound of an enemy to find it was only empty air.
He had forced himself back into his meditations and his more Buddhist mindset in an attempt to force the Equilibrium to settle when he went to go attack an enemy only for that enemy to turn into his precious Birdie before his Cudgel had a chance to land its hit.
That moment had been a reality check for both of them. Wukong may be back… but he was still very much not at his 100 just yet…
It helped that Birdie was so supportive of him, gently taking his hands when he flinched away from her, telling him in that melodic voice of hers that, They just needed to take it slow, these things take time. Besides, they finally had forever. Wounds would heal, the nightmares would fade.
It was that night that they decided to start making their journey back to Mount Huaguo, that beautiful Paradise of Flowers and Fruit. “After all!” Sun Wukong had spoken, his fur puffed in joy and anticipation. “What better place to heal the mind than my paradise on earth! Besides, I believe their handsome king has been absent for long enough.”
He felt himself puff up more with pride when his words brought a smile to his Birdie’s lips.
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🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜🐒🦜
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This is how we find ourselves where we currently are at within the story my dear readers.
As both Sun Wukong and the Phoenix Maiden are beings capable of flight, the pair crossed an impressive distance of land in a relatively short amount of time. Neither had any doubt that if Birdie had clung to Wukong on his jīndǒu yún cloud, (筋斗云) they could make it back to Mount Huaguo in a day, if not a handful of hours.
However they both came to an agreement that with it being as long as it had been, it’d be wise to move at a more leisurely pace - even if from the air - so that Wukong could familiarize himself with how the land had changed. At the pace they were going, the trip would take 3 days and 2 nights back to their beloved mountain.
Everything went smooth the first day and night. The second day say they were forced to slow because of winds that were blowing against them. Birdie beating her wings twice as hard to move forward against the breeze. Wukong stayed a bit behind her to catch if it was needed.
But Birdie took it with good humor, giggling that that flight had been the best workout she’s had in years!
That brings us to where we are tonight:
“It is good that we arrive back at the Mountain tomorrow,” Birdie hummed as she opened her bag and took out two generously sized Mangos and a bag of tree nuts from a cashe Zhu Baije had gifted to them before they departed. “This is the last of it, we may need to forage for lunch tomorrow…”
Sun Wukong nodded as he grabbed the mango and stoking the fire they sat by to warm themselves and their clothes before they went to rest in the trees for the night.. “Hmm… unless we want to agree that taking it at a leisure pace was a silly notion and we just use my jīndǒu yún to cross that meager distance before our bellies have a chance to complain?”
“Sun Wukong!” Birdie gasped, a playful gleam in her eyes, “Am I to hear that the Great Sage Equal to Heaven can’t handle roughing it any longer? What does the Handsome Monkey King miss his pillows?”
“Blasphemous! You dare to insinuate that This great King can’t handle a bit of dirt?! Better to wish to avoid dirt than be dragged back to the earth like a waterlogged pigeon because of some wind!” Sun Wukong leaned forward as he accepted her invitation to play, a relief warming his chest to have confirmation once again that the years didn’t take this game of theirs away.
“Even Pigeons can keep themselves pristine and well groomed! How many pebbles and rock clumps have I had to untangle from your fur since your return you wretched Stone Monkey! Perhaps we should go ahead so the denizens of the mountain can run you a bath and line up to groom you properly!” She narrowed her eyes with a grin, but also carefully watching for his reaction, remembering how important troop grooming sessions were for his kind.
But there was no insult in his eyes, only mirth as he matched her grin. “Brave woman! Brave indeed! You voice so easily on my stone nature but tease me for wanting to stay away from the floor in which entangles those clumps in my fur! Dare I say you are contradicting yourself?”
The Phoenix Maiden leans in close and settles herself against him in a motion Sun Wukong doesn’t trust one bit, not while they’re within the game, but he enjoys her proximity too much to push her away. That’s before Birdie leans her head against his shoulder and innocently entangles her fingers in his fur at the base of his neck, taking care not to snag the fur.
“Oh Wukong…. Should I gather some soft moss for you to rest your royal head? I’d hate for you to crimp your neck at your impressive age.” From where she sits, Wukong can’t see her face, but he doesn’t have see it to know she’s holding in laughter from the way her shoulder shook, to how her tone is pitched.
Wukong made an aghast sound from his chest as he playfully grabbed the woman beside him making her finally release her laughter as she squealed and attempted to get away from his tickling hands.
The Phoenix Maiden didn’t realize until too late Wukong’s dastardly plan as he took them to the forest floor as they tumbled around each other in their game.
That was, until Birdie’s hand brushed against something in her hair….
Was that… a twig? Leaves?
Realization dawned as she shoved a Cackling Wukong away to take stock of her appearance.
“Oh you didn’t! WUKONG!” She was covered in Leaves, Twigs, Dirt… and those Rock Clumps. She looked a right mess, and thoroughly tumbled.
The smug Monkey King laughed even harder, the force of it making him loose his footing and nearly causing him to fall into the fire. “Don’t worry! Don’t worry! I’m sure once we get back to the mountain, the denizens will run you a bath and line up to groom you!”
He laughed harder as he threw her words back at her.
She succeeded in untangling a stick from her hair and proceeded to throw it at the furry Stone Menace, causing him to wheeze as he gripped his sides.
Birdie attempted to pretend to be stern before she fell into laughter as well. What could she do? Sun Wukong’s joy had always been infectious.
——————
The joy and mirth of the moment came to an abrupt end when Wukong froze and was suddenly on his feet, staring unblinkingly into the forest, his stance tense.
“Do you hear that my Birdie?” His voice was softer now, barely above a whisper.
Birdie felt her heart sink in her chest a bit as she slowly got to her feet and took a step back, running on the assumption it was another invisible enemy that often plagued his mind, and readying herself to jump into the trees should a one-sided battle commence.
“Wukong, I don’t-“ the snap of a branch cut her off as she froze as well, turning her head to look in the direction the sound came from… and it was only then she realized how silent the woods had become. “Yes. Yes I heard that.”
She grabbed her bow and notched an arrow, flexing her wings to become airborne at the first sense of true danger.
More rustling and the sounds of large trunks snapping made them both tense further in readiness for whatever they were about to face.
Just when the Stone Monkey was about to activate his gold vision, a blast of fire and molten rock shot at him as a horrible screech shot through the trees. Officially breaking the otherwise eerie silence. He only barely moved out of the way in time, the smell of singed fur quickly filling the air.
Birdie yelped as the molten rock landed next to her foot as she jumped into the air with a single beat of her wings and took a shot in the direction of where the attack had come from.
Another awful screech rang out, letting Birdie know her blind shot had landed.
There was a burst of movement as the awful beast finally revealed itself. A giant Róngyán xīyì (熔岩蜥蜴) ((Lava Lizard)) at least 16 heads long burst forward. It’s wide mouth open, attempting to swallow one or both of the travelers but missing them both.
Its movements were heavy, clumsy and uncoordinated. Its large and burning eyes nictated as it moved its head around looking for where its prey had gone. It’s fat Tail lashing and trying to rid itself of the arrow sticking out of it. Rumbling with dissatisfaction.
Both Wukong - from his place hiding in the brush, and Birdie - from her spot in the trees stayed quiet, hoping the beast would move on. The Lizard was larger than the xīyì usually came. They were supposed to grow no larger than a forearm.
And they usually stuck to the Volcanes of the North. It was a long way from home and clearly was a successful hunter if its size was anything to go by. Though, despite its size, it clearly wasn’t a wise creature, clearly it wasn’t capable of speech or hadn’t any power to achieve transformations. It was simply another predator like a tiger or an alligator.
The xīyì curled its head back as it curled its tail up, almost making itself into a ball before its blackened charcoaled scales began to rattle and steam and the pink of its belly glow before its golden throat and cheeks bulged. And it just so happened to be in the direction Wukong was hiding.
“WUKONG! GO HIGH!” Birdie shouted as she took another shot. It found its home in the xīyì’s Shoulder as the creature screeched once more. Spewing a torrent of fire and molten rock out of its gullet. The spray going a considerable distance as Wukong shot upwards with his cudgel to avoid the attack
The xīyì twisted its body around rapidly as it continued to empty its gullet. The area quickly becoming encased in flame as the thick slag stuck to the tree and ignited them.
The Phoenix maiden felt her eyes begin to burn and her throat itch as smoke blew in her face. She began to cough as she beat her wings to move the smoke away and push herself higher into the air.
Wukong snarled and bared his teeth. “Bothersome Beast! I shall make your hide into an armored Tunic! Watch as I end this!”
Twisting around, he brought up his cudgel and flipped it so it was above him, using his strength to bring it down with a force that cracked the earth. Flattening the creatures head, the Róngyán xīyì’s body going still.
He landed on the ground next to it, and kicked it in irritation. “A good armored Tunic indeed! I should’ve left your eyes! Gave you a last look at the mess you caused!”
“Wukong,” Birdie raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think that poor creature is hearing you anymore.” She then looks around as anxiety starts to build within her chest. “This forest is going to burn, what do we do?”
Indeed the fire was spreading fast. The dryness of the wood combined with the strong winds working in tandem to turn the steady blaze into a raging inferno.
“Bah!” Wukong shrugged away her worries as he finished skinning the beast and folding away the pelt carefully to be turned into its tunic later. “We can fly above it Birdie. It won’t harm us.”
Birdie scowled. “Wukong, the denizens of the forest can’t all fly. We can’t just leave them to burn.” She points at a bird nest in the distance with three far-too-young chicks to prove her point.
Wukong thinks for a bit. “Very well, grab the nest with the babes, we will take them with-“
“Wukong!”
“Fine! I’ll go have the dragons send a-ACK!” He flinched and turned his head down as a raindrop found its place in his eye. A few more raindrops fell against Birdie’s cheeks and Wukong’s head before the rain steadily became heavier and heavier.
The rain felt warm, and to Birdie, incredibly familiar as the sweet smell of fresh water, ozone and flowers filled the area.
Raising a hand to protect her eyes she looked up at the rain cloud that had snuck up on them and saw the vague outlined shape of a woman in the clouds, her hair fading and falling as the rain that was now smothering the flames.
Birdie feels herself start to smile and her emotions rise into her throat as she’s almost sure that the woman - Her dear sister who had stood by her through everything - looks at her with a reassuring smile before her head turns away, her body sways, and she fades into a cloud once more… vanishing with the gentle sound of a distant rolling thunder.
“Wukong… did you see her?” Her voice soft and gentle. Still shielding her eyes as she looked up at the clouds to see if She was still up there, but she was gone. Moved on, giving her sister the privacy she had promised her so long ago when Birdie had first left for this journey.
Wukong was rubbing his eye from the liquid smack he had undeservingly received, and gave his body a good shake to rid himself of water that was soaking him. Taking one of his hairs, transforming it into a large umbrella, he grabbed Birdie and dragged her closer to him to join him in his jīndǒu yúnas to relieve her wings the stress of flying in the rain.
He shook his head as he felt her settle next to him. “No… I didn’t see her. Who? The Pearl Girl?”
Birdie rolled her eyes and gave his chest a weak smack even as she got closer to warm herself with his heat. “Wukong be respectful, she’s our sworn sister. She has been truly a support for me these past couple hundred years.”
Wukong grumbled but adjusted his body to hold her. “I don’t know how she has still fooled heaven into thinking she’s some peaceful ‘Tranquil Lady’. She’s peacefully shoved water up my nose and in my ear for a innocent prank more times than I care to remember!”
Birdie laughs as his words bring up multiple memories of the various ways Wukong would try to elicit some emotional reaction out of her otherwise non-reactive friend when they were still on their great journey to retrieve the Tripitaka Scriptures. And only succeeded in getting a physical response instead.
The phantom sounds of him cussing and sputtering and hacking while Zhu Baije laughed filled her ears. The Yín zhēnzhū gōngzhǔ’s only emotional reaction would be the slightest of a glare and eyebrow twitch before she went back to drinking her tea and the conversation she usually had with Birdie or Sha Wujing on the occasions she was summoned to assist the pilgrims.
Birdie leaned her cheek against his shoulder. “You usually deserved it, you were awful. Constantly poking and prodding at her when she had taken to time to come and help us.”
Wukong huffed out a laugh. “She always had this calm demeanor even when she was angry or irritated underneath. I was simply helping her express her emotions.” He remembered the one time he had seen her punish and execute the Bā tuófēng yěmán rén, that sort of calm rage wasn’t healthy for anyone. Especially not for a woman with the power to inadvertently make it everyone else’s problem.
Yes, Wukong thought to himself. He was justified in his needling and pranks towards the princess. Because he knew he’d been awful and annoying. Usually ever on his worst behavior when that pearl maiden was around, going just far enough to not have his master punish him with that blasted headband.
Because it allowed her to release those emotions she usually kept so bottled up, giving them an outlet that wasn’t a violent storm or a deadly riptide.
Truly, he deserved more appreciation. The great and handsome monkey king didn’t have to go out of his way, but he did for the sake of his friends.
Birdie laughed at his pouting face as she gave him a kiss on the cheek to sooth him. “Well you could’ve told her that rather than being so… You about the whole thing.”
Wukong pouted then chuckled in agreement. Indeed he had been awful. But it was fun. He began to have his jīndǒu yúnas take them out of the storm’s path and to a dryer area to listen to the rain from a distance and get some rest before they finished their journey at sunrise.
The Phoenix Maiden sighed as she watched the rain and distant thunder. It had grown to become her favorite sound when she was at the sea side palace. “It will be good to get back… I miss her. We have so many stories we have to share with our sister.”
It was a murmured statement, perhaps not something she realized she spoke aloud. But Wukong heard her all the same. She looked up at him and said in a more clear voice. “When we get back we need to come up with a ‘thank you’ gift for her. She made sure the mountain stayed protected and the damage was healed, along with keeping your citizens safe after… you…” her voice trails off and her face falls a bit before she hugs Wukong again.
“Never do that again…” It was an order.
“It’s okay Birdie… I don’t plan to go anywhere. I’m back for good this time.” He promised as he held her closer.
They stayed like that until the last of the distant glows of the fire went out, the forest safe and protected once more.
Wukong thinking all the while.
He had been gone for a while, and his Birdie - Because she was his now, she had given her heart to him and he had no intentions of returning it - had clearly become attached to their sworn sister, that infuriating pearl maiden. And now he learns she had also kept his home and people safe in his absence?
He nodded, pleased. His sworn younger sister was infuriating, but he would never say she wasn’t driven and loyal. He would think of a reward for her. And Birdie wanted to see her…
Then a thought struck him as he jumped up with the startled Phoenix Maiden in his arms. The poor woman letting out a yelp at sudden movement.
“An Idea! I’ve been struck with a great idea!” Wukong hooted as he jumped down onto a tree and carefully sat Birdie down, wrapping the fresh pelt around her shoulders to keep her warm. “Make up a camp! I shall be back soon!” Transforming a couple of his furs to make them into camping supplies, replacing what they had lost to the flames.
“Wha-Wukong!? Where are you going!?” Birdie sputtered as she fumbled with the objects that were shoved in her arms.
“A surprise Birdie! I go to grab a surprise!” Wukong beamed down at her before speeding off. Going to greet his infuriating Sworn Sister of the waters.
When we next meet, we shall see how that interaction goes.
———
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threepandas · 12 hours
Text
Bad End: After The War
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The click of a button in a mostly quiet room. Machines humming as they churn an endless stream of data. Listening. Receiving. Filtering through the noise, for those bits of intelligence that might win us the war. The outpost was quite. As much as it could be, at least, on this god forsaken moon.
"Perimeter Check?"
More specifically, 'did you get your ass eaten by those horrifying eel-snakes? Because you promised not too, and I WILL be mad.' 'Cept, you know, these channels are technically recorded. Rather not have my snark On Record, thanks. So SUBTEXT.
The familiar, oh so melodious, demonic death screeching of abomination eels and blaster fire comes on comm. A symphony straight out of some sci-fi horror movie, act 3. The part where everybody's getting eaten. Except NOT, because this? This is just my life.
Though the eaten part is still a Very Real Risk.
Which Is FUN.
I wait. Hope I just caught Headshot at just a bad time. Not, you know, in his final moments. Ha ha... Nope! Not! Thinking 'bout that! He's immortal, I'm immortal, and we both live in a happy fun time fairy land of FUCKING WONDERS. Denial? Fuck yeah I know her! Best friend, that one. Gonna be my future kids godparent. Walk me down the aisle. We BESTIES.
There is finally, at long last, ominous silence. Dead or dying? Dead or dying? Which side, eels or Headshot, is Dead or-?
Click.
"Perimeter looks good. Bit of a mess near the east gate, though. We'll need to get the droids to shove some mess over the ledge. They tried to climb again."
Oh thank FUCK. Tension bleeds out of me. This post is hell on my anxiety. I send back the confirm. Slump back on my seat as I keep an eye on his tracker's dot, on the patrol read out. I fucking HATE perimeter checks. They aren't safe. But... well...
This universe? I'm pretty sure, it's an "all the serial numbers filed off" blatant rip off of Star Wars. Might be a fan fiction? Cause, while the troupes are familiar, the "characters", no one is where or WHO they should be. There are also other "totally not X" bits here and there, all of which confuses the fuck out me.
But what I DO know? Is that making a fuss about the safety and well-being of us peons? During this, the "totally not the Clone Wars"? While Evil Dick, Sith-y Pants the Obvious is in charge? GREAT way for our entire outpost to get "tragic casualties of war"-'d. So yeah, no thanks.
Keeping my mouth shut.
And, hey! At least they ate our complete asshole of a commander. Technically we SHOULD be getting a new one... but we were told to make do. Same with all the OTHER critical roles currently empty.
The DICK.
Like? I know he wants to drag out the war and maximize suffering for Evil Not-Sith, Off Brand Space Wizards Of EVIL Powers? But like? Fffffuck yoooou, dude. What the hell. Hope he stubs EVERY toe, always.
The Clones deserve better then this. The SECOND the war is over? I'm stealing Headshot. Fuck this "property of the state" bullshit. Just me 'n him, man. We could go explore the wilds. Or get him a beard and fake glasses. Clone? What clone! This is my BROTHER, Headshot. Our parents were gun-toting hippies. My names Moonrock. Fuck off, maybe. Keep walking.
The second I see him cross the base threshold, I switch over to Droid command. They can't hold my shift forever, but for a bit? Should be fine.
Jogging down the hall and sliding down a few ladders, I finally catch sight of Headshot as he leaves the staging area. Oof. That is a LOT of eel blood. The cleaning bots are cursing up a storm as they follow him. Even from the other end of the hallway... he smells... ripe.
I give him a second to lead the way and for the bots to work behind him. Then join in the little parade. Ah, eel goo. The third worst thing that could come out of going outside. Right behind losing a limb or dying. But hey! I restocked the soaps for ya!
"Doesn't change that it's on my everywhere, Commander."
Oooooh~ breaking out the COMMANDER are we? Is that SASS I hear? Snark perhaps? Why HEADSHOT! Such insubordination~! What EVER shall I do?
He snorts and suggest something anatomically impossible as he gestures to the shower rooms door. I tap it open for him. Goo boy that he is. Grinning I follow and find a bench where I can sit so my back is to him. It... used to be weird, to be honest, this level of living in each others pockets. But time and isolation has eroded a lot.
Clones don't really see boundaries like everyone else. Don't have the same taboos or unspoken social rules. After all... they're all the same gender. Were forced to live basicly in a breadbox with each other. The culture that developed reflects that. And I? Am more of a follower then a "type A". Not passive by any stretch of the imagination, just... eh.
I don't have the social outgoing-ness? I guess? To drag the culture of our base towards MY social norms as opposed towards his. It made him comfortable. I shrugged and went okay. Rinse and repeat. To be honest I was just glad he trusted me enough to SHARE.
Booting up my definitely-not-a-tablet, (which is of course, STUFFED full of various bits of sci-fi technology that only half makes sense) I once again try and connect to the wider army's mainframe. Nothing. I've BEEN trying for weeks now. But for some reason? We're cut off.
No new commands. No new forms to fill. No demands for information.
No UPDATES on what the FUCK is HAPPENING out there.
I'm... not gonna lie, getting nervous. We're a listening outpost. Some of our information is time sensitive. And our SUPPLIES are not infinite. Forget food, if we run out of AMMO? Those nightmare snake-eel THINGS will... Look, long and short of it? I've got an "empty" blaster shoved under my bunk. Two shots left. And compared to the slow, SLOW digestion and meat threshing teeth those horrors have?
At least it's FAST.
But I would REALLY prefer we NOT fucking come to that, you know? That someone would fucking PICK UP. Or? I don't know!? Notice we're offline? Whatever the problem is! The fact that we've gone dark is SPOOKING the fuck out of me.
Not to mention? That even BEFORE communication went down? The chat rooms and update boards weren't making a whole lot of sense. Lot of clone specific references that I didn't get. Memes, maybe? I don't KNOW and that's the part that's killing me. I had no way to CHECK. It all just... went dark.
We're still GETTING data. But? We can't seem to SEND it. Headshot and I checked. I checked the droids while he got the dish and other external devices. Clambering around the roof with his sniper rifle like a well armed, circus trained, mechanic. Nothing was wrong with the droids. And according to Headshot? Nothing was wrong with the dish.
After a while I gave up. Again.
Reminded myself to practice my meditative breathing. In... out... IN... OUT... do NOT trough your only Data Tablet. You'll break it. You can't REPLACE it. It might FEEL satisfying in the moment... but it's Not Worth It. Just listen to the sound of the running water. The quite of the room. Breathe... unclench your jaw, make your muscles relax, c'mon you can do this.
Fuck, I needed my anti-anxiety meds. But we were starting to ween me off them so I didn't go cold turkey when we ran out. It was fucking with my head. But, hey! At least I wouldn't run the risk of seizures! Or any suicidal ideation! No, just slowly building anxiety, in this, History's Most Stressful Outpost.
The shower shut off behind me. Leaning forward to grab a towel from the stack, I tossed it blindly over my shoulder. Heard him catch it. Wet feet slapping quietly against tiles as he walked forward, drying himself. From the feel of droplets and heat, looming just behind me? He was leaning over my shoulder. The man always did like to damn near boil himself in the shower.
"Still nothing? We've run out of D6 bolts. Not to mention your meds..." He commented, still drying off. I could feel the occasional brush of a towel. A bare arm reached over my shoulder to tap at the screen. "Have you tried...? Shit."
He tried several commands. Leaning over me, damn near cradling the back of my head against his bare chest. But nothing worked. Plopping his chin down on the top of my head, he casually wrapped his arm around my shoulders, leaning his weight on me as he considered the problem. The fans kicked in overhead, dehumidifing and hopefully preventing any sort of alien molds.
I told him to go put on some fuckin pants, before he frozen something he might miss off.
With an amused snort he stood and wandered over to the armor cleaner. Grabbing a new undersuit. Blacks went on, armor freshly de-goo-d, he called that he was presentable once more. I swung my legs over the bench. No need to stand, after all, if we're not leaving yet. Besides, exhaustion was a symptom of the withdrawals. Med changes are a BITCH.
Just as I was about to suggest anough brainstorming session, though?
Our comms both ping. LOUDLY.
That's the emergency signal from the control room. SHIT. I'm up and running before the sound even fades. Headshot right behind me. Not so much because he can't out run me, as he'd stop to grab his weapons as was bringing up the rear. Guarding my back. I prayed, PRAYED, this wasn't an attack. We were supposed to be a fourteen person team.
There were TWO OF US.
We'd never be able to hold the line. Would DIE here. Fuck, I didn't even have time to get that gun! I should have been carrying it. It had been too morbid. But... but...!
I slam into the control room. Headshot a half step behind. The droids frantically churning away. Okay. Okay! What's happening? A ship, big one, in orbit. Oooooh fuck. How Big? I ask. Am informed? "Wipe us from the face of the galaxy" Big. Ha ha! FUCKING FANTASTIC. Great! Merry fucking Christmas to me, I guess! Okay. Okay!
Let's DO this.
Get on the short range ship comm, (never thought I'd USE it but here we fucking ARE) and ask, politely, for them to Fucking Identify Themselves. (Because we have Big Guns and are NOT afraid to use um!)
There is a long tense moment. Then? Oh thank merciful FUCK. A Clone's voice comes on the line. General Spark of the 153rd, in pursuit, they're here to catch traitors and resupply if we need anything. Permission to land a few ships?
I. Could. WEEP.
Yes! Oh, ABSOLUTELY yes! Whoever they're chasing picked a REALLY stupid planet to hide out on, not gonna lie. They'll be picking their traitors up in PIECES. But? Never has a voice been more beautiful. Send Techs! You have FULL use of the outpost General! Welcome!
Setting the droids to navigating the incoming ships safely through landing, I all but DRAG Headshot towards the landing pad. People! Actual, real, PEOPLE! Supplies! Oh thank FUCK! We might be able to figure out what wrong with our relays! Get NEWS! And? That was a CLONE GENERAL!!!
That NEVER happens!
I can practically feel my self vibrating with excitement. Bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet, as the ships come in for a landing. The officers that roll out are all clones. Their armor more personalized then I've ever seen it. It's BEAUTIFUL. I can't help but lean over and whisper to Headshot, saying as much. Wondering if we can get him some of the supplies they must of used.
You know, assuming he WANTS any of um.
If not? Dibs.
His shoulders are shaking. Why are-? One of the officers thanks me for the compliment. Headshot you SON OF A SUBSTANDARD VAT. Was your SHORT RANGE MIC ON!? Why would you not-!? Bastard! Dead to me! Sorry general, I've never met this man before in my LIFE. Couldn't introduce if I TRIED.
Still! High ranking clones? We love to see it. I am THRILLED. It's been long over due.
Dooooesn't mean we should hang out in Eel Country though. Everybody INSIDE! Let's goooo. Nice and safe, where no ones getting eaten, m'kay? Thank you! And yes! I DO have a list of resupply needs! A LONG list. Starting with my meds, followed by ammo. Though honestly they're tied at first...
As me and the, now rather concerned, medic chat about the collapsing state of our highly rationed medical supplies? Headshot and the General are off to the side... talking about... something. Not sure. Probably not important, or he'd include me. I show the medic our "infirmary" and medical charts. Then get pulled away by the mechanic.
I barely get to SEE Headshot over the next two days. Forget sitting down. The only breaks I get? Meals and lights out. It's kinda awesome. Exhausting, yes, but? After so long isolated? It's a good type of exhausted. The sort where you feel like? For ONCE? You're actually being productive.
There are SO MANY eel burrows to scan? Potential landing sites? And all the MAINTENANCE? Dear merciful FUCK. Literally everything is out of date and cheap as BALLS. Held together with shoe strings and a prayer. But finally! FINALLY! Someone in budgeting GIVES A SHIT!!! Better equipment! Actual medical supplies! Real bedding! And best of ALL?
AIs! As in Actual, information sorting, artificial intelligences!
Because there literally hasn't been a REASON for humanoids to do this job for CENTURIES aside from a misplaced sense of superiority and distrust of droids! All WE need to do? Is stay on base and make sure THEY don't go rogue or break down from the extended isolation! Woooo desk job!
I'm gonna name um. They shall be my BABIES.
That said? None of this? Is very... Off Brand Sith-y. Little too "cares about their fellow man"-ish, you know? And... I'm not stupid. Excited as FUCK, for all the supplies and new changes... but not? Stupid. Blind.
They're keeping me away from the control room.
Keeping me out of important discussions. Sending me off on errands. All of which? SEEM important. ARE important, on the surface, but hide the fact that they are intentionally scheduled? Just as Certain Things Are Discussed. I am being... handled. Like a child. A fool.
When I confront Headshot? In our bunkroom, which we've shared for YEARS at this point. Slept just across from each other, so this lonely hell might feel just a little less empty? So when the dark thoughts creep in? That we might die in this God forsaken place, forgotten by the universe, left to ROT here, and wouldn't it just be easier to-? Someone there, so we won't. So we still matter.
He stands across from me. In OUR place. OUR room.
And FUCKING LIES.
......I guess I know where I stand, huh? And I know... I KNOW, I shouldn't feel betrayed. Clones come first, always. That's the party line. How they survived. I'm a Nat. There was always a power imbalance between us. I would always have been held just that bit further away then one of the brothers. Guess... guess it just finally happened.
I shouldn't feel betrayed. I have no RIGHT to feel betrayed.
But I do.
Headshot looks alarmed, hands twitching at his side, even as he tries to maintain his facade. Nothing's happing. They aren't doing anything. Right. Uh huh. His lie sits between us like a field of broken glass. The words, the arguments, I'd been looking for now seeming so useless. What's the point? He's made his decision.
I feel like crying. Don't want to talk anymore.
Good NIGHT, Headshot.
In the morning, I don't bother asking. I know he notices. Is waiting, restless, for us to continue on as we always have. We always check schedules after all. But what's the point? He'll lie. Instead I pull my armor on and go. Go to your brothers, Headshot. Whatever's happening here, I'm clearly not trusted enough to be part of it.
I just get out of your way.
There's a lot of busy work on my schedule, but honestly? The new AIs are learning to handle it. Instead, I head down to the new supply crates. Grab some bedding. A cart. Then head back. Pack up my shit. I just... can't.
Moving it all to a different bunk, I still have most of the day left to go. Could...? Probably? Check out if we actually DO have space rats? The droids have been reporting dust and noise in the basement, near the food stores. So likely vermin of some kind. Gonna be horrifying to find out what kind of vermin exsist HERE, but better then nothing, I guess.
Grabbing one of the better ration bars to shove in my face on the way to the gun locker, I count it a breakfast. Everyone's busy with a clone only meeting. Good for them, I guess. Not upset with General Spark or his men, I realize, as I check over the gun, no... just Headshot. Because he hurt me.
All he had to say was "I can't tell you." Or "trust me" and I WOULD have. But no. He LIED. To my FACE. And now? Now I feel like I'm waking around with shards of glass where my heart should be. Like I want to hit something. I need a distraction. So down to long term storage I go.
Normally? It's only droids down here. I have to ride a cramped little maintenance elevator lined with blast doors. You know, incase Satan's favorite pet somehow burrows in. The fuckers. It's also freezing. Which, I mean? Great for food storage, not so much for thermal regulation.
The level is eerie quiet.
Which.... huh. That's? Not right.
I reach for my comm before pausing. The hurt in my chest throbbing. I know I shouldn't let it get in the way of professionalism. Of protocol. The rules are there for a reason. To keep us alive and safe. But... God, I don't want to hear his fucking voice right now. I might cry. Say something I don't mean and regret later. You don't LAST long, isolated out in Hellpit, Nowhere, without doing a little soul searching.
Mortifying ordeal of being known and all that.
My hand drops. It's fine. I'm FINE. There's nothing down here. Or, well, should be nothing down here. We'll find out.
Slowly moving forward, I begin to check the stacks. I don't see any of the droids. Don't HEAR any of them. There should be at least thirty down here. But all I hear? Is the circulation fans. The sound of my foot steps. Something isn't right.
It's a loose, half melted screw in the path that saves me. At first I think it's a bug. But the quite clink when my foot nudges it is unmistakable. It makes me look sideways. There, a cleaning droid, cut down from behind. Tiny little mechanical claws still reaching out to claw itself to safety. Wheels shredded. The marks of a lazer blade are unmistakable.
The hiss-hum even more so.
I BARELY dodge.
Half my gun, simply sheared away. Molten slag dripping from the cut point, the battery already violently destabilizing ask it's nicked. I throw it, before I have the chance to lose a limb. The blast takes out a crate. I'm thrown. Barely roll in time to dodge the downward stab of the hissing blade. A brutal, magic-enhanced, kick sends me flying.
Straight through a stack of ration crates, into a wall mounted medical case. I land among the corpses of the droids. Each, a picture of terror and betrayal. I don't understand what's happening. The blades not red or black! It's blue! That's a not-jedi! Right?! Why are they!? Crates are lifted into the air. Threatening to smash down and bury me alive.
Can't move. Something twisted, badly, in my leg. My chest burning. Something cracked, I could feel it. I'm gonna die. Oh good, I'm gonna DIE.
"Wait! She's not a clone!"
I stare up into the face of the so called "good guys" and feel nothing but terror. Around me, the pieces of thirty droids I'd named and known, dead and dumped like trash upon the ground. Flower with his fussy need to have everything just so, Chirp who loved to sing, Mouse with the wheel I could never get to stop squeeking.
Nothing but Cannon fodder.
They died so afraid.
"Oh! You're right! Sorry! I thought you were one of those 'peating bastards. Are you okay? How long have they held you?" The Knight said. His Apprentice nodding eagerly.
My brain was static. Empty. Held? Slurs? W-what in God's name? I stayed down. Feeling small, lost, and confused. Pain rocking my body from being thrown around. The Apprentice, at least, seemed to pick up on the fact that I had no idea what the fuck they were on about.
"Ah. You don't know what's happened." She said sympathetically. It would be nicer, if she hadn't stood back while I was hurt, before they got around to asking who's side I was on. "The Clones betrayed the Republic. Took it over by force. They've made an empire. They killed the old Chancellor, who was Fallen, but then instead of handing the Republic back to the people? Kept it! Said we couldn't be trusted with it."
The last part was said mockingly. As though everyone and their brother hadn't been aware the Republic was on the brink of collapse. Corruption at an all time high. As though that same Republic hadn't been using the Clones as a SLAVE ARMY.
Slaves do tend to take exception to their chains, historically.
I wasn't really sure why the fuck they were surprised.
"Now come on, you can join the Rebellion. You must know all sort of information, from sitting out here, right? You can-!"
Click.
My helmet went full dark and internal audio only. Which was interesting because I still could barely move. But then bright light and sound, popped and cracked not to far away from my head. A flash grenade. And I finally, FINALLY? Remembered that all standardized armor? Comes with in built life support feeds.
Headshot's mystery meeting was in the command room... where my life sign readout would be. The life support feedback. Real time monitoring from me getting my ass kicked and WHERE.
A hand grabs the drag handle built into each armor, for EXACTLY this reason, and I feel my self pulled out of the danger zone. Can hear heavy, open fire. Shit. There goes our supplies. My helmet clears and I recognize the shoulder I've been careful thrown over. Headshot. He came.
He falls back at some signal I can't see. Straight to the elevator.
The shoulder under me is shaking, just slightly. Adrenaline, fear, anger. I can't tell. But... I... I'm...
"Don't." His voice is rough. Choked out through gritted teeth. His grip just carefully loose enough not to bruise. It seems to be taking everything he has. "You don't get to die. Do you understand me? You're not ALLOWED to die. Not now. Not ever. We didn't survive this long for you to leave me now."
He barely waits long enough for the door to open. Stride smooth and desperate as he races us towards the medic. I rest my head against his shoulder and breathe. Let myself be manhandled. Ha ha... a-at least? I know what he's keeping from me now. So there's that. Ow. Oh god.
The medic has to put me under. Bone fragments.
I drift.
Wake up, bandaged to hell and back, in ou-... in Headshot's bunkroom. Across from the empty bunk that used to be mine. Bed's softer then it should be, still smelling like Headshot. We haven't had the new sheets long enough. Knowing him, he probably stacked um.
The door opens. Headshot stalks in, dragging a cart behind him. His usual "pleasantly amused by life" expression nowhere to be seen. Instead? His expression is... blank. A determined, almost violent, edge to the set of his shoulders.
In silence, I watch as he unloads the cart. Bedding, knickknacks, the various bit of cobbled together wall art. All carefully stuck right back where it had been before. As though he had memorized the proper location of each and every piece. Even as he worked, with his back to me, every line of his body was daring me to be dumb enough to argue.
I didn't want too. I was just... just fucking tired.
Didn't like that we were arguing. If that was even what we were doing.
"Why?" I asked. Summing up everything and distilling it. Why didn't you just fucking TELL me? Why didn't you TRUST me? Why did you think I'd turn on you? Why would you lie? Why were we cut off? Was it REALLY a technical error? Why take the Republic? Why ANY of this?
Just... WHY, Headshot? Please...
"I refuse to lose you. When the war ended, you were going to leave. You said you'd take me with you... but honestly? That was naive. There would be no where safe we could ever go. We all knew that. We all had favorites." He finally stopped organizing my bed. Instead, smoothing down the sheet. Running both hands across it as he stared down, unseeing. "It was all so unorganized. Filthy. They treated us like DIRT. But we were... we ARE better. Designed to be superior. Stronger, smarter, faster. More durable. Why were we listening to them?"
"Then we found out why. Control chips in the brain. The nervous system. Carefully hidden, yes. But not carefully enough. You weren't authorized, you know. I'm glad. If you had been? I'd never have forgiven you. You'd never know you were dead before you died. But... I promise."
"I would have made it fast." His smile was a terrible thing. All broken edges and betrayal. Teeth upon teeth. A mania finally set free.
"Never thought those hypocrites would run here. Expect us to die for them. The happy little slaves. For the glory of THEIR Republic. You'll be okay, Commander. The General's agreed to stay until your back on your feet, just in case."
Headshot slides onto the bunk, sitting at my side, sweetly brushing hair from my face as though he hasn't lost his god damned mind. He's the picture of relief, now that there's no more secrets between us. Now that I'm injured and dependent on his help. Yet... it's teetering.
As though at any minute...
He could slide into some... unhinged state of mind. How LONG has he been on his last thread? Barely holding together? He leans forward and my mind goes utterly still. His lips pressed gently against mine. Chaste. Sweet. A warm, calloused hand, cradling my poor bruised cheek.
"I promise we'll stay together." He whispers against my stunned mouth. Eyes intent and mad, utterly loving. Like a strangers. "I won't let them seperate us. Not for anything. Now that it's done? We can be assigned anywhere. I'll take you with me. War's over, love. We're finally free."
Were we?
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weirdbeancurd · 2 days
Text
Ticklish Wolverine Headcanons! (sfw of course, but if you don't like, don't read)
i might do one with Wade later
Logan  Sensitivity: 9/10
Ironically cannot stand clawing or nibbling, poor dude will arch his back to the high heavens
Swats Wade's hand away when he tries to “give the kitty some chin scritches” because it tickles (and it’s embarrassing)
Common headcanon but he growls to keep the giggles at bay, it works for a whole 10 seconds and devolves into angry laughing
Folds like a lawn chair if a bad spot is suddenly attacked, has headbutt Wade before and got tickled twice as hard as a result
Absolutely pooped after being wrecked, will just lie there in a heap and maybe doze off, Wade uses it to help with his insomnia, Logan is secretly grateful (but will never admit it)
Wade told Laura about Logan’s “sensitivity” and she now uses it as a threat, old man being too grumpy? Poke him in the side as a warning. Logan’s smartass remarks getting on her nerves? Tase his ribs.
On some nights, he’ll barely fight back and just take it, becomes very flustered when it’s pointed out
Worst spots are underarms, stomach and hips, thrashes wildly when any of these spots are attacked, until he realizes he can't escape and just goes limp as a biscuit 
Sooo stubborn, will actually die before admitting that he doesn’t mind being tickled
Tickling is pretty much the only thing that can get him to beg and Wade loves it, I mean who wouldn’t want the bragging right of getting the mighty Wolverine to plead for mercy
All 5 of his senses are enhanced, touch included, it helps him track people by their footsteps…and makes him ridiculously ticklish
While rough tickles will still destroy him, light tickles fluster him much more, he’s just so unused to such a gentle touch and embarrassed a small graze makes him flinch out of his skin
Face burns red when teased (but don't mock him too much or he'll get actually angry), might try to hide facedown on the couch/floor/a pillow, Wade always makes it a game to see how fast he can make Logan turn over and expose his burning face
Usually this does the trick: digging into the muscles on either side of his spine (lower back) will get him to cackle and slam his palm on the bed/floor repeatedly, until he finally relents and flips to face Wade again (yes this is based on a bluebully fic lol)
Tries to bite fingers when his neck or ears are tickled, tends to end badly for him even if (especially if) Wade ends up losing a finger or two
Snorts, wheezes, shrieks, we got it all folks, but giggles are mostly caused by light tickles since he's just too sensitive, anything more intense and his laugh gets pretty wild
Sneaking up on him is real difficult, but if you manage to catch him off guard, his claws will pop out on instinct, Wade found this out the hard way, but still does it all the time because it’s funny
Probably needs to be pinned or he’ll break someone's nose with his flailing, (usually) not on purpose
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bestworstcase · 13 hours
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your point about team rwby being the maidens’ liberators made me think - do you think blake is going to have a special connection to the summer maiden? I noticed that she’s the only one who hasn’t been close to a maiden yet
i think gillian asturias is the summer maiden (and this post is hysterical in hindsight. at the time i wrote it, the full-length v9 epilogue hadn’t been released yet so we’d only seen qrow’s section and about half of winter’s – hence my pausing to lay out the argument for salem going to vale next and making a pretense of hedging my bets on the crown being narratively central in v10. lol)
now! with regard to blake and the summer maiden, the common thinking here seems to mostly run along the lines of “…and that’s why summer maiden ilia,” or the more general speculation that the summer maiden will be a faunus character.
to this i say:
it’s a fallacy to conflate “blake will probably have a strong narrative connection to the summer maiden” with “the summer maiden necessarily is or will be blake’s old friend,” and the argument for ilia being due for maidenhood is quite thin otherwise, and
blake can and does have important narrative connections to characters who aren’t faunus, and it’s a weird to presume that in order for the summer maiden to have a meaningful tie to blake, she must be a faunus herself.
to expand on that first point, let’s consider the personal relationships between each of the maidens so far and ruby / weiss / yang:
pyrrha -> ruby’s friend
cinder -> ruby’s personal enemy
raven -> yang’s estranged mother
penny -> ruby’s friend
winter -> weiss’s beloved sister
the takeaway here – other than that if you’re ruby’s friend and someone offers you to become a maiden you should refuse – is half the relations between maidens and members of team rwby are antagonistic. (raven seems likely to at least try making amends with yang in v10, but as it stands in the narrative right now things between them are very fraught.)
it is just as likely that blake’s narrative connection to the summer maiden might develop through a personal conflict between them, rather than friendship. yes?
and, if i’m right about gill being the summer maiden, well—stop me if you’ve heard this one: a girl with a driving, passionate ambition to uplift her people from the ashes of centuries of conquest and subjugation is radicalized by a boy she loves who pulls them both deeper and deeper into violent, spiteful extremism that ultimately harms the very people they claim to fight for, until he finally crosses a line she can’t accept and she says no i will not.
that’s blake and adam but it’s also gillian and her brother. the difference between them is that blake’s red line was adam glibly revealing that the train heist was actually intended to be a massacre whereas gillian’s was jax stating his intention to commit suicide rather than retreat and live to fight another day; she helped yatsu subdue him specifically to save jax’s life, not because she had a crisis of conscience about their movement.
(there is a certain—really irritating—contingent of CFVY novel readers who project their own dislike of jax onto gill and insist that she turned against him because he demanded she ‘sacrifice her life’ to save him, which 1. he didn’t, he asked her to give him all her aura and then bodily shielded her because he’s physically bigger than she is so this was at worst a “if we’re going down together, i’ll make them go through me first,” 2. if gill only wanted to save her own neck all she had to do was rip her aura out of him and bounce, and 3. she explicitly says that the reason she did what she did is because he’s her brother, she loves him, and she couldn’t let him die.)
the point being, gill is still a radical; her soft betrayal of jax revealed her priorities in that she loves her brother more than The Cause, but in no way did it represent a break from her belief in the cause. if the epilogue is any indication, she’s just as committed to overthrowing shade academy as before. (and i think there’s a real chance that her actions will have improved her relationship with jax to some degree, because he believed she didn’t care about him at all! he thought she only stuck with him because his semblance compelled her to do so! and then gillian exploded his mind by revealing that his semblance straight up doesn’t work on her and she just loves him. which, if the twins are on the same page now, cuts down on the internal tension and likely makes them more dangerous adversaries to the coalition.)
but her history, the way she became like this, is eerily similar to blake’s radicalization in the white fang, and i think blake would certainly be able to piece that together. she’s also by far the member of team rwby i would say is most likely to recognize and relate to the genuine pain at the heart of the crown’s movement—vacuo has suffered.
vacuo wasn’t even a state until the end of the great war. it was a mistrali territory. its people were enslaved and worked to death in a systematic and horrifyingly effective project to extract every last speck of valuable resources from the region, and then even statehood was a slap in the face because they were left to fend for themselves in a barren wasteland whose ecosystem had been completely and utterly destroyed.
the crown is a mirror held up to the white fang; blake is insightful and empathetic enough to realize these similarities and see herself and her past mistakes reflected in gillian, but this time she’s an outsider to the movement—she can’t effect change from within or reclaim the true, important work from the vengeful extremists. so she’s limited in what she can do, practically, even as it’s going to be painfully clear to her that the crown is falling into the same trap adam did.
and at the same time, the new white fang will in all likelihood either be in vacuo or show up to join the coalition in v10, so blake’s part in her own movement, her place in her community, can be directly juxtaposed with her opposition to/empathy for the crown.
v9 sets up for this with blake’s advocacy for the afterans—v7-8 do as well to a lesser extent, because blake is still dealing with the personal fallout of v4-6 and thus is quieter about mantle than say, nora is, but like. blake draws a comparison between her experiences in the white fang and with adam and the moral compromises ironwood starts making after the election. it just seems… pretty clear to me that the narrative has been setting up blake to play a pivotal role in relation to the crown since at least v4 if not earlier, depending on how granular the vacuo outline was during v1-3.
so this is a narrative connection i very much expect blake to have with gillian regardless, but… if gill is the maiden…
well, she’s certainly not trapped inside ozpin’s vault/key maiden paradigm! so in that case what does it look like for a member of team rwby to fulfill this narrative role of liberation? probably something like de-radicalizing her and her brother by convincing them there is a better way forward than their divisive, violent, paranoid ideology. and blake is unquestionably the member of team rwby best equipped to get the ball rolling there.
further, blake’s semblance is a really strong counter to gill’s – that’s true of ruby and weiss as well, because gillian has to touch a person in order to steal aura and so agile, fast opponents are going to be tougher for her in general. but blake has two more things going for her beyond the basic mobility advantage, vis-a-vis making it personal:
the illusionary aspect of blake’s semblance will allow her to create decoys, which is a very powerful tactical advantage against an opponent who really wants to grab her, and
blake’s girlfriend is a hand-to-hand fighter, and an incredibly brave one with an intense protective instinct at that.
clears throat. we all remember yang getting possessed in rwby x jl part 2, yes? and blake clocking it instantly? well.
if blake and gillian are meant to be not just foils but personal adversaries in the vein of ruby and cinder—yang’s gonna get got. agile though she is, as a hand-to-hand combatant yang is unavoidably much more vulnerable to the twins’ contact-based semblances than the rest of her team, her personality will make it very hard for her to play it safe and stay back if it comes to an open fight, and there is nothing the narrative could do to lock in that personal enmity that would be punchier than yang being compromised.
even if gill as a personal adversary to blake isn’t in the cards i expect yang to get got anyway because, let’s be honest: do we really expect crwby to set themselves up with a golden opportunity to do a climactic love-overcomes-mind-control scene with the bees in v10 and then not take it? with how nuts the entire creative team goes for these two? after the climactic battle in ice queendom hingeing on yang being able to free blake from a nightmare with the mere lesser power of unrealized lesbianism? do we reeeally believe they would pass that up? lol.
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fandomxo00 · 2 days
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imagine if…reader is Logans daughter in a different universe but he dies when she’s very young and becomes the next wolverine at like 14 or something. And Wade being Wade brings her the “worst” wolverine and they have like a emotional reunion together 🥹🥹 (maybe dogpool can have a little cameo lol)
note: Writing about Laura cause I love her sm all she wanted was to be with logan just wanna protect her and not really writing in the pov of Laura but the reader but hope you enjoy 💕
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Laura had been devastated at Logan's passing. She hadn't even know the man long but there this sense of understanding that she had with him. They were made as monsters. You were a much younger version of her mother, when they met in the void when she was only 14, she looked up to you and you protected her the best you could. You tried to give her the life she deserved but it was rough when you were both exiled from your timelines.
But when Laura looked at you she saw her eyes reflected back in your own and she felt safe. You raised her the best you could, you knew that missed her father and everything that their relationship could have been. Little did you know that a random guy in a red suit and an annoying voice would Logan back into her life.
Though Laura explained that this version of Logan was grumpier than hers. He drank a lot more and complained a lot for someone who was living for free on your couch. Laura was now 19, she worked at the diner with you. If Logan didn't find a job in the next week, he could find somewhere else to stay. Though you don't think Laura will allow that. You have a rather weird relationship with Logan.
You had gotten pregnant and had Laura in your world, endured the torture of being there and having your daughter taken away with you. You never met Logan but you had his child. Sadly, you also had to feel the loss of your Laura when Piece killed her right in front of you with adamantium bullet before shooting you. Luckily, they hadnt shot you with an adamantium bullet, because Laura's blood had been in your DNA since you first got pregnant with hers. You were able to heal but she wasn't.
You had wished every day for years that it was you instead but you were fortunate enough. But then you found her again and you swore with your life that you would do anything for her. Even let her deadbeat dad lay on the couch, no matter how many times he walked around shirtless or smiled over at you didn't mean anything. You watched Logan's walls crumble as his daughter slowly tore the through the rumble and started bonding with the man. Even getting him to bake with her, you had smiled getting a picture of the two.
Then one night she had a date, he was surprised when he saw a young mutant who was nonbinary. Laura glowed as she looked at them, Logan tried to do the whole scary dad thing, but wound up just nodding and letting them go. The two of you sat at the couch, a joint passed between you as you spoke lightly into the night. Opening up about your past as your inhibitions lowered and the two moved closer to each other.
At some point his lips wound up yours his hands on your waist while he cradled your head in his hand. Your lips slotted with his, as your hands gripped his shirt. The two of you pulled away breathless before taking it back to your room.
A week later, Logan got a job, he also started sleeping in your bed. The three of you grew close as a family and you've never felt more full in your life. But eventually Laura wanted to spread her wings and wound up moving into the X-Mansion. She came to visit the two of you frequently and always came to hang out with her younger siblings.
tags:@ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1
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l0stfoster · 2 days
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(Cursed Tulsa) Does Darry have like, chronic pains in his tail occasionally?? If it’s all messed up? Would he be unable to move it because of the pain? Does it get really bad? How does the gang help him when the pain is at its worst? What about Paul? Can he use his magic to sooth the pain? Or does it make it worse? Just casual questions 👀
Same format as each ask with multiple questions LET'S GET TO IT!! Does Darry have like, chronic pains in his tail occasionally
- Darry does get chronic pains in his tail, yes. Sometimes certain factors trigger a pain flare up; like weather conditions or how much he's moving it due to all the damage, but other times it has no prompting. It's usually a throbbing, shooting pain through his tail starting at where the break occurred. His job being so physically strenuous doesn't help, as his tail is a big part of keeping balance, and you need balance to be on a roof. - It also doesn't help that he'll still move it despite knowing how badly it can hurt; he's a fae, he's territorial, and he's clingy. Fae wraps their tails around those they care about pretty commonly, or they'll self-soothe by wrapping it around their own legs.
Would he be unable to move it because of the pain?
- Yeah, there's pretty minimal to almost no moment with it when the pain's flared up; which is really fucking inconvenient, since idle movement is a thing. He can't even try to do something like use a brace or anything of the sort, as the weight would cause more harm than good.
Does it get really bad?
- Yup, it gets bad enough that he physically can't go to work; it directly connects to his tailbone and all, so I can imagine his ability to walk or even sit gets heavily limited. He's utterly miserable, and usually just ends up curled up in bed in agony until it calms down, or until Soda can get a remedy together to temporarily help him out.
How does the gang help him when the pain is at its worst? What about Paul?
- Soda usually manages all this since he's very practiced with painkillers, even if they kinda end up hallucinogenic due to the plants he uses. It's not really something the gang can help with themselves, but they'll at least try to help out to prevent him from having to do too much moving about the house - Paul teams up with him for it, since he's the potion-handy one who probably knows a thing or two about this kind of stuff. Even then, sometimes he's got a spell that can increase the effects of whatever Soda whips up; they make a good team with it.
Can Paul use his magic to soothe the pain? Or does it make it worse?
- If circumstances regarding Paul's magic were different, then there's a chance he'd be able to use his magic to lessen the pain. Unfortunately for him, though, the lack of using his powers while growing up, the way they're tied to his emotions so closely, and the ritual carving on his back combined together pretty much prevent him from doing anything in the healing regard if it isn't through a blood ritual; and Darry would probably kill him if he dares to try that just to help him. He loves his boyfriend, but would absolutely be on him for that.
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Sorry I like my men toxic and nobody can convince me that Tseng would give you a fully healthy relationship. He’s just not the worst guy you could date. So here are some of Tseng’s toxic habits. I wish we could post powerpoint slides. Like I guess NSFW for my choice of words. Edit: Okay I’ve typed more. It’s NSFW, it wasn’t that when it was just scattered notes i swear. granted, this is still scattered notes
Forgiveness?
Tseng. The man you forgive a million times because someone like him is so hard to come by. Even if you’re a person who doesn’t tolerate bullshit. You know that it would be impossible to find anyone nearly as good as him despite his mistakes. Tseng knows this too, taking advantage of your level of comfort in him. The connection between the two of you so deep there wasn’t a possibility you could view life without him. Tseng creates soul bonds with his significant other, he has to have all of you fully invested in him. You would also want for absolutely nothing, he can provide everything you could ever want so you can focus on the future you want to build for yourself. Whether it’s school, art, creating your own business, etc. Tseng is there to guarantee everything goes according to plan if it’s financially or if he has to pull a few strings. Seeks out people who would be reluctant to replace him but aren’t very co-dependent. If you manage to leave Tseng, say good riddance to developing any new relationships. He’s either going to make any of your new significant others vanish. If it’s someone he can’t kill, he’ll find a way to scare them away from you or find a way to put them in prison. 
My alternative reasoning as to why all of your other relationships would fail? The dick of course. Yes. The unbelievable wee wee. There’s not a soul in the world that would be able to learn your body the way he does. Have you ever heard of people being nearly ready to pass away because they lost their dick? Well if you haven’t, you have now. Even thinking of him fucking someone else the way he does with you is enough to make you want to vomit. That shit will have you sliding down the wall crying. You can try all you like to fuck someone else, it won’t compare. The way he touches you immediately sends electricity down your spine. It’s all in the way he knows how to touch you. Where to touch you. A subtle brush of his fingers along the small of your back while you’re riding him. An almost tickling sensation that causes you to press yourself against him as he leans up to kiss the most sensitive parts of your neck. How about when all he needs to do is look into your eyes and knows exactly how you want to be fucked? You can’t think of a time you had to ask him to do anything, your minds were seemingly in perfect sync. Always so so willing to please you. “So you wanna fuck other people huh?” He whispers in your ear mockingly while driving his cock deeper into you. Your knees pressed against your chest, legs hooked in Tseng’s arms as he ensures you won’t slip out of your position. No, you really don’t, not when he’s reminding you of what you’ll be missing. You’ll be calling him the next day for more, innocently asking for him to come over to “talk”. There won’t be much talking, just Tseng bending you over the kitchen table. His hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucks himself into you so deeply, ignoring the way your hands push against his abdomen in a half-hearted attempt to slow his tempo down. 
There aren’t many people in this world that would be nearly as attentive as he is. The way he can easily tell all of your needs within moments of talking to you. Reads you like a book and it can’t help but make your heart flip, cause like, ‘who sent this man?’ and why does he know all of your emotional needs and exactly how to take care of them? Tseng carries aspects of his job along with his relationships. The same way he gets to know his enemies closely, he’ll do the same to you. Memorizes all of your sayings, even can predict what your response would be to most questions or statements. It’s almost more eerie than heart warming. With this comes the ability to manipulate you endlessly. Gaslighting has never been easier honestly. Lying to you about anything or forcing you to agree with his point of view would be child’s play. The way he carries himself during an argument, so well composed, rarely letting his emotions control him paired with the way he effectively strings his words together to soothe you. His calmness will make you question why you’re even so worked up. Tseng isn’t, so why are you? Tseng makes you see everything through rose colored lenses, and despite your aching heart when he hurts you, Tseng could never be wrong in your eyes. He only does what’s best for you. 
Gaslighting? Probably.
Truly remembers every word you’ve said to him and will use it against you. This goes back into my last little paragraph but deeper? Uses traumatic things from your past so you can believe that maybe your emotions, in regards to something Tseng has done wrong, are nothing more than misguided reactions. Will have you think that maybe you’re projecting your fears from past experiences onto him when you challenge him or try to hold him accountable for any wrongdoings. Certainly will guilt trip you knowing exactly what makes you feel like you’re the biggest piece of shit in the world. He doesn’t have to do anything outrageous. It’s the way Tseng subtly changes his body language. Slumping his shoulders just a bit, the way his brow furrows at your words or actions, breaking eye contact and staring at the floor like a scolded child. To put the cherry on top, it’s the ever so slight change in his tone of voice. The wavering in his tone as he speaks softly, not too soft for it to sound out of the ordinary, but enough for you to believe you’ve hurt his feelings. Usually resulting in you coddling him, now you’re the one apologizing because you “never meant to make him feel bad” even if it’s because you were grilling him for something as major as fucking his boss behind your back. Believing that it must be your fault if he’s off sleeping with others. Master manipulator for sure. He’s good at lying, like we see what he does for a living.
Like to make you cry because he's the only one that can also make you better. At times he’ll do this just to make sure he’s got complete control over you still. Wrapping his arms around you in such a calming way, his warmth and sweet words coaxing you to relax against him so he could “make it all better again.” More makeup sex. Somehow gets a kick out of cheering you back up. One minute you were sobbing because his words were a little too cruel and now you’re sobbing because he won’t stop fucking you so good. Tseng has a way he likes to position you in times like this. Having you lay on your stomach, your back arched just enough for his hips to flush against your ass as he completely sheaths himself in you, whispering in your ear asking “you still love me, right?” Christ, he has a way of making himself emotionally needy at just the right times. You can’t help but whimper, whine, and eventually choke out, through your moans, your appreciation, love, and devotion to him. Always ends with him cuming in you, some aftercare, then holding you in his arms for a majority of the night unless work calls him away.
Sometimes-y af?
He can pick and choose when he wants to pick up your relationship or not but you cannot do the same to him. Loves someone who he can come and go as he pleases with. You're so stupid and willing. Loyal to a fault, though the only person it’s negatively affecting is you. There isn’t a time you’ve turned him away thus far. Constantly taking him into your arms, babying him as though he’s some angel despite you knowing he isn’t. Tseng’s just managed to get you to the point you couldn't care less about his deceptive ways. You just want him by your side, no matter what the circumstances may be. The entire world can see the invisible leash and collar Tseng has put on you, yet you manage to stay blind to it all. You’ll wait like the good little puppy he’s molded you into. 
It’s a wonder he can be such a gentleman and a conniving son of a bitch. The kind to end an argument by demanding to be left alone but will ask “what you're doing tonight” a few hours later---he's going to fuck you—giving you a reason to keep accepting him back into your loving arms. He knows you’re a gift from the Goddess but he can’t help that he likes being toxic at times. It’s why he treats you so well and the sex is so unbelievably good. He needs to cement himself into your soul so he can continuously get away with everything, so things can continue to go exactly as he wants it to. Tseng prefers a life with you that has no consequences. For him. You, however, have to deal with punishment if you dare treat him in a similar manner to his treatment of you. Will show his displeasure with hurtful words and by neglecting you. If that doesn’t have the desired effects he’s willing to scare you into submission. Once again, nothing too outrageous that he would do. Tseng might just choke you a bit, push you against a wall, or if you try to run he’ll hold you against him tightly. Whispering into your ear about making you disappear if he can’t have you the way he wants you. Telling you how he does so much for you and he at the very least deserves you on your best behavior at all times or else he might just have to break that pretty neck of yours. Isn’t too big on yelling, he can get his point across just fine without having to do so.
Stalker? Obviously.
Tseng has trackers in your cars, phone, and bags. It doesn’t matter where you go, he’s going to find you. He’s definitely followed you from location to location, making sure you were doing what you said you would be. Sure he’s always been able to track you, but that isn’t the same as seeing you. You could be doing anything in the areas you claimed to be in. Tseng is even familiar with the faces of employees of each store you frequent. Has tracked down every family member and friend of yours, performing thorough background checks on all of them. Even closely looking after some of the people closest to you. Tseng has to approve of the people you hang around of course, he won’t tolerate anything that he feels is a negative influence and will force them out of your life. Tseng will sit outside of your house for hours after leaving, wondering if someone will come over. If he knows someone is coming over he’s got your home mic’d. Listening to all of your conversations, evading your most private conversations. Hates to hear when you vent about him, makes it hard to come back to you and act nice when in reality he wants to correct you for telling his business to your friends and family. Doesn’t mind when you’re speaking highly of him though, you help boost his ego most of the time. Getting space from Tseng is impossible. Your attempts to drive around and find a nice parking spot are all for nothing. He’s following right behind you. Is definitely going to block you in with his own car, angrily getting out of his own. Once he made you leave your car where it was entirely. Pissed that you would try to get away from him at all, it doesn’t matter if it’s just for a few hours. Pushing you into the passenger seat of his car, driving you back home all while yelling about how stupid you were and that you would always come back begging for him. 
He was always right about that. Nothing would stop you from wanting Tseng back if he finally decided he was done. A relationship with Tseng is either on his terms or very much a “till death do us part” 
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not-goldy · 2 days
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Many people don't seem to understand that all those books, fanfics, video analysis etc portraying JM as the villain is fueling more hate towards him. It's reached a point where it's no longer just tkkrs saying certain things. Even Jinkookers have started using same tkkrs' narratives and started claiming JM is forcing fs on JK.
When JM went to lolla to visit Jhope, tkkrs were saying he's going there to "steal Jhope's spotlight and he's a leech and attention seeker". Jhope solos just picked that narrative and used it and were hating on JM. Suga solos were saying same things when he visited Suga's concert in US, Tae solos were saying same things when he visited Tae's fanmeet. Damn, Jin solos were also saying that cause he used jinmin selfie on weverse.
You see how narratives that tkkrs started about him is getting wildly used against him? The narrative and hate is spreading and more and more people are actually starting to think of JM as some worst human.
There are more and more people talking exactly like tkkrs now.
That's why that book issue is pissing off. JM has done nothing to deserve all the hate he gets.
Absolutely 💯
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crushmeeren · 7 hours
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࿐ take this 🍧 to keep you occupied while you browse ࿐
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┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ Hoshina’s version ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Mating runs are boring and common where you come from. You’ve taken part in more than you can count, yet no one has been able to catch you and the thrill’s worn off. You’re on the verge of giving up completely when someone new joins your pack. It startles you when you realize that you’re about to be in for the mating run of your life.
┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ Bakugou’s version ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ You’ve danced around each other since you were kids. It didn’t start that way, no, it only developed into something more once you turned into teenagers. Once you’ve both reached 21, it’s no secret who you’re deliriously hoping will pin you down during your first, and only, mating run.
⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ knotting, breeding, scent kink, biting/marking, fighting as foreplay, a/b/o dynamics.
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┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ Shinsou’s version ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Hitoshi is the only other vampire that works at the bar with you. In fact, you’re two of the only vamps in town. It’s kind of isolating, but you have each other to lean on. You’ve resisted sleeping with him for fear of losing you’re only vampire companion, but when the shitty drunk regular takes it too far you and Hitoshi decide to…. “take care of him”. And each other.
┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ Inumaki’s version ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Being the only vampires in your specific group of assassins, you and Toge get contracted out and sent into a vampires only club to pose as a couple and hunt down your next non paying target. Someone must slip something into Toge’s drink to distract him, because the next you know you’re being dragged into a “private room” and being bent over mercilessly.
⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ biting, blood play, exhibitionism, sadism/masochism, possible knife play, mild body horror.
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┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ Touya’s version ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Touya’s a regular at the coffee shop you work in. It’s in a seedier part of town and nobody bats an eye at the villain who stops in every night before close. He never speaks to you after he orders, winking and smiling eerily until the hair on the back of your neck stands up. But he’s the least of your worries. There’s someone wearing a ghost face mask who’s been stalking you after every shift. It’s been going a lot longer than you care to admit. Maybe it’s because, in a twisted way, you kind of like it?
┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ Megumi’s version ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Megumi’s your boyfriend, but he’s a bit too obsessed with you. He starts pretending to stalk you at night while wearing a demon mask to drive you even further into his arms and see him as your protector. It backfires when Megumi doesn’t realize that you found out it was him almost immediately. Nevertheless, you’re going along with it because you’re just as obsessed and delusional about him.
⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ hints of hunter/prey, stalking, mask kink, breath play, knife play, a mixture of degradation and praise, yandere vibes.
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┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ Kirishima’s version ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Boys fucking suck. Especially when it comes to sex. When you come across a forum of other women who have dealt with this problem, the word incubus catches your eye. After spiraling down a rabbit hole of what and how to obtain your own incubus, you think you’re getting a demon who’s dark and mysterious who can satisfy you. You end up with a demon that has the sun shining out of his ass. Although, he still ends up being way more than satisfying.
┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ Kenma’s version ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Kenma, according to you, is the laziest and worst incubus you’ve ever worked with. As a succubus, you work twice as hard as he does and still he ends up wreaking more havoc and causing such an insane amount of psychological damage that it causes your blood to boil. When you confront him about it, Kenma’s apathetic as usual. Then he shows you why he wears the crown. What a fool you were.
⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ somnophilia, light bondage, choking, size kink, biting/marking, praise kink, rough sex, anal sex.
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Whether you’re into monster fucking or something creepier, I’ll be feeding you little bats well this year. I do hope you’ll take a look around and find something that interests you.
I can’t promise these will all be super long since I’ve decided to torture myself and use two characters for each prompt, but I can promise they will be written to the best of my ability!
For the record, I will be writing these as 𓐩 ⋆ FEM READER ⋆ 𓐩. I hope this doesn’t disappoint anyone, but this is what I’m comfortable with and I’m not changing my mind.
That being said, cross my heart and hope to die I’ll put my blood, sweat, and tears into these! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚
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