#I had SO MANY MORE in my head but hhhh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mythicalmyles · 1 year

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A dream i had has been haunting me so here i am.

A jock any sport my dream wasnt specific just a popular jock is the reader and he is just so popular and everyone loves him and of course everyone assumes since his this big jock his the dom in the relationship between him and his boyfriend when in fact his the complete opposite.

The boyfriend can be in the band or a part of the cheer team again it depends on the sport and my dreams never clarify, He hears one of these conversations and has a brilliant idea that he was gonna put the reader in his place and everyone is gonna know that place.

I have no idea what kinks would be used, Just kinky and maybe some praise but ropes are involved or something, just use your imagination

Honestly just nerds putting jocks in their place 🤭🤭

U have in turn haunted me with this request 😤 i hope u enjoy since u didnt say who so i used toby bc hhhh i hope das oke <3 yall need to tell me more dreams ong (football is soccer) also sorry for so much toby but hes my cc and i need hims content

/tobys back story for today, put up w bullying met you, go to college together he kills his parents a couple weeks before instead leaving them in the basement and hiding their deaths, tobys already snapped but still has comprehension of who he was as a kid/

college au/jealousy kinda fic/comfort at start kind

/violence(toby gets violent too a character who doesn’t matter)blood/minor gore(?)/

You let out a gasping huff, bending over hands on your knees as your body scraped for oxygen. Sweat caused your football strip to stick to you, you dragged the wet clothing off of your sticky body, fanning it hoping to cool yourself down. “Thats it for today ladies!” The coach shouted, finally dismissing you all from practise.

You wiped the sweat off of your brow using your shirt as you jogged to the locker rooms. Mentally preparing yourself for the stink of many sweaty men crammed into one room, you pushed the door open immediately hit with the odour and cringing. You ignored it and made your way to your locker, you were convinced of the fact the cleaners had never stepped foot in here.

You all but threw yourself down into a bench after collecting your things, leaning against the wall and taking deep breaths. Your soaking hair clung to you and you brushed it away, the wetness helping it stay out of your face. A towel was thrown next to you and you cocked an eyebrow up at the intruder, trying to keep the scowl off of your face when the team captain came into view.

His cocky smirk drove you to the brink of insanity, the urge to knock it off of his arrogant face overwhelming. “Whats the deal with you and twitchy?” You glowered at him. “Dont call him that.” He had the audacity to laugh as he began stripping, the locker room falling silent as your voices bounced around the room. “Well?” He laughed armed raised and looking around as if he was confused. “You fucking him or something?” You tried not to flush, doing your best to cover any affect he might see with a glare. “If we were? So what?” You challenged, keeping eye contact with the prick.

He laughed and shook his head. “Calm down princess no need to get so angry, was just askin’.” Before you could respond your boyfriends voice had your attention to him, shock covering your face as you thought he still had band practise. “Speak of rats and they come crawlin’.” Your captain was incredibly lucky your entire life was banking on a sports scholarship.

“Fuck you want?” Toby’s deep voice always sent shivers running up your spine, the anger in his tone not helping. He sounded even hotter when he was spitting fire at someone. You took a deep breath, ready to tell Toby to forget it and to go home. “Yeah he was telling us alll about how he fucks you.” Paul chucked, arms crossed as he smirked at you both.

You could feel how angry Toby was getting at this point, dealing with his shit for way longer then you had at this point. What you didn’t expect was for Toby to lunge forward slamming straight into paul and slamming his head off of the ground, you froze completely as your teammates rushed to pull the scraping two apart, well, Toby was currently punching Paul and Paul was currently taking it while wailing for him to stop.

Toby had changed a lot recently, he seemed a lot quicker to react with anger then he use to be. Eyes holding something dark that scared you, you wanted to run and pull him off. You really did. But Toby barely looked human in that moment, blood covering his face as he continually wailed into Paul. Your team mates finally pulled them apart and when Paul stood you couldn’t deny the relief that flooded you as you quickly ran to Toby.

You ran through the corridors, your footsteps slamming against the ground and echoing off of the walls. Toby suddenly took over, dragging you instead. Surprise took over you and you tried your best not to trip as you both ran towards your home.

Luckily you didn’t live far away, having a small house your parents had left you. You both practically broke the door down and you paused to stare at the back of Toby’s head. “Yo-you could’ve killed him.” You choked out after a few minutes of silence.

“And so what?” He suddenly growled out, bloody face staring you down as his eyes bugged out. Rage was still burning through his veins, you could see his twitching worsen as his breathing got more laboured. He marched towards you backing you into a wall. His hands slamming either side of your head. “So wh-what, huh? Whu-what if i di-d-d-id!.” He slammed his palms against the wall as his stutter worsened. “What then?” His voice was normal, almost sounding hallow as he spoke. His dull brown eyes gazed into yours, you could see the unshed tears gathering in his lashes. You felt a warm heat flood inside of your chest, making a promise in that moment.

Your shaking hand came to rest on his cheek, causing him to flinch. Shock was written across Toby’s face. “I’ll always love you.” You took a second to clear your throat. “No matter what. No matter what wrong you do. I. Love. You.” You kept looking into his eyes, hoping with each word it’d work its way into his head.

Toby’s mind had went blank, his heart twisting almost painfully as he say the earnest look in your eyes. Shining, full of love for him. Toby pushed his lips against yours, tongue quick to push its way into your mouth. He gripped your ass tight and pulled you close together, grinding your hips together. His mood swings always threw you through a loop, this one happened to be the most unsettling. “You know who yo-you belong to r-r-ri-right.” He stuttered out, eyes glued to your face. You bit your lip. “I belong to Toby Rogers.”

That was all it took for him to yank your jeans down, scooping you up into his arms and press you against the wall as his tongue made its way down your throat. Moans poured out of you as he ground against you, your back scraping against the wall with the force. “Th-tha-ts right. Good boy.” He made quick work of his fly, his cock flopping out and hitting against you. All you could do was moan in excitement as Toby lined himself up, he found his way to your neck his breath tickling your skin. He licked his lips, tongue flicking against your skin and sending your body shivering.

“T-Toby.” You whined you, grinding down against his cock and moaning as he pressed against your hole. “Sti-still we-wett from this morn-morni-.” He cut himself off with a growl, slamming into you and relishing in your scream and the way your nails dug into his shoulders. Toby easily fucked you against the wall, almost acting as if you weighed nothing. You wondered whether it had to do with his disorder or not. Toby was quick to fuck any thought out of your brain, in love with the dumb mess you turned into when you had sex.

“Who ma-makes you feel thi-is good?” You kept eye contact as he used you like a flesh light. “F-fuck, Toby, only Toby. You!” You screamed out as toby railed into your prostate, eyes crossing as he fucked you stupid. Toby growled and bit into your shoulder, you let out a yelp. Pain flooded your neck and Toby pulled back to give you a bloody smile, the idea of being marked by Toby forever going straight to your heart and cock. “Do it! Ma-mark me up. Want every-on-one to know who i bel-belong to.” You moaned out, Toby’s thick cock wreaking you from the inside out.

You choked as your orgasm came quick, sending you screaming Toby’s name as you came on his cock. The tight heat of your ass was enough to make him cum, the feeling of you actually cuming on his cock is what sent him over the edge, desperately fucking into you. Part of him hoped he left a hole no one else could ever fill.

His knuckles went white as he clung to to you, deep breathing as he rode his high out inside of you. He fell into you, pushing you into the wall as you held him. Hand making its way into his fluffy brown hair, you tugged it lightly to get those beautiful brown eyes you loved so much to look at you. Everytime you looked into his eyes you felt breathless, despite the tired, cold, hardened look to them that had developed, they still made your knees weak. “I love you.” You whispered against his lips, slotting them together after he repeated his words to you.

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all-hail-the-crows · 1 year

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Just wrote some Lenzshire smut 🤙

___________

Wrong Number

The manor fell silent as Mr and Mrs Heelshire left for their evening walk, closing the back door gently in hopes that their son wouldn’t notice their departure. He did though. Of course he did, Brahms noticed everything around the house. It was his world, and yet the times when his parents went out, times like these, were some of the few times he was allowed to freely roam throughout the manor.

Brahms peeked warily out of a panel in the wall, one of dozens of secret entrances to the Brahms’s passageways throughout the house. The large man crawled out into the living room, eyes resting on the piano for a moment as he stood up before turning toward the kitchen. Whatever hobby he decided to indulge in today would wait till after he got something to eat.

He brushed a hand against his mask for a feeling of security as his eyes trained on the too-large-for-comfort kitchen windows as Brahms inched towards the freezer where his parents kept the leftovers. After selecting something that looked half decent and heating it up, the porcelain-faced man retreated to the comparatively safer location of his childhood bedroom, he settled on the floor to eat. Brahms glazed around for the wretched thing that his parents had replaced him with, though it didn’t seem to be anywhere in the room. He frowned, jerking his head to the side to kick the bedside table and knocking it over.

The mix of shame and jealousy followed Brahms as he left his, no the doll’s, room and made his way back down to the library, hoping to find a book to read. He selected a few that he hadn’t already and began reading the back covers while seated on the piano bench. Just as he was deciding which book to borrow for the night (his mum would notice if he took more than one, and he didn’t especially like being scolded), the phone in the guest bedroom upstairs began to ring. At first, Brahms didn’t move, no one ever called on the guest phone. The delivery boys and other off-location staff that the Heelshires had all called on the main phone, so it could only be a wrong number caller. This opened up a whole line of opportunity for Brahms, as he never got to speak to anyone but his parents, and even then under the forced pretense of still being their darling little eight-year-old boy.

Completely disregarding the books he had been examining moments before, Brahms stood and raced into one of his passages, he made his way out of the guest room closet just before too many rings sounded off, and picked up the phone. Brahms cleared his throat before saying anything, not wanting the person on the other end to be under the notion that they were speaking to a child. Before the could say anything in his real voice though, the person on the other end of the line started in.

“Hhhh, you pig. You fucken bitch…” The caller took a moment to gurgle off unintelligible words, almost like a choking animal. Brahms wasn’t sure what to say to all this, but he didn’t want to hang up just yet, wrong number callers were so rare.

“Billy’s gonna shove his fat cock down your pretty piggy throat… you’ll like that won’t you? Sucking on my fat cock, sucking… sucking till you can’t breathe. Then Billy’ll-”

“Sir, I’m afraid I don’t think I’m who you meant to reach.” Brahms interrupted, unsure if his cheeks had grown hot out of disgust with what the other had said, or out of shame that he hadn’t hung up already. The caller, Billy, paused. Then he broke out into chortle, followed by a string of words.

“Piggy has got such a voice, would sound even better gagging on Billy's cock though. Such a deep voice, bet you’d beg Billy for more with that pretty voice, beg for me to stroke your dick. You have a dick piggy? Billy wants to lick it, run his tongue up your shaft and lick it, lick it lick it, lick it, lick it.” Billy repeated that phrase for a while, long enough for Brahms to seat himself on the guest bed, his interest building, and any shame he may have felt long abandoned.

“Would you…mista?” Brahms asked, unsure of how exactly to respond to the depraved caller, but unable to ignore the fact that he was enjoying this, as well as the growing mound in his pants. Billy let out a shrieking giggle.

“You like that, you piggy slut?” He chortled, clearly enjoying that someone was for once indulging in his ‘hobby’. Brahms could hear a rhythmic movment on the other end of the line, a sound that he knew all too well from his own lonely nights in his attic room. Brahms reached down to rub against his still-clothed dick, palming himself as Billy continued to spill out degrading words, Brahms closed his eyes and furrowed his brows in pleasure.

“Pretty-voiced piggy wants Billy’s juicy cock inside him.” It was more of a statement that Brahms wasn’t about to contradict than a question. “Slamming at his insides and stretching piggy out, ruining poor piggy’s pathetic hole.” Billy set off on laughing, screeching jumble of noise, making Brahms wince and hold the phone away from his ear even as he bit his lip to hold back a building moan.

With reddened cheeks behind his porcelain face, Brahms ducked a hand into his trousers, clutching at his embarrassingly hard cock. He pressed the phone to his ear, letting out a whimper into the receiver as he used his thumb to circle his tip. Billy felt silent at the noise.

“Billy…” Brahms murmured into the phone, his breathing growing almost as heavy as Billy’s as he jerked himself off.

He could feel pre cum beginning to leak out as he imagined the vulgar man making good on his promises. Working Brahms’s cock with his mouth, licking long stripes up his shaft, and drooling all over his balls. Brahms moaned again into the receiver and thrust his hips upwards into his hand.

“Filthy piggy,” Billy giggled almost sweetly into Brahms’s ear. “You want me to hold you down so you can’t go anywhere? Fuck you till you can’t breathe, piggy?” Billy let out a string of moans and wails that made Brahms’ heart race and his dick throb in his hand.

“Yes, please. I do want that.” He moaned, stroking faster, hand gripping almost painfully tight.

“Billy’s filthy piggy wants him to bend him over and fuck his tight ass till piggy squeals and screams and moans and begs for Billy to stop,” his breathing grew somehow heavier. Brahms stifled another moan, sandwiching the phone against his shoulder. He reached down with his other hand to press against his hole, fingers slick with his own precum as he massaged his entrance.

“I’ll fuck you till you’re cumming, till Billy’s creaming inside you, making a big mess out of poor piggy’s ass. Billy’ll fill you up with his hot cum, fill up his piggy’s hole until you can't keep it in and it’s dripping out and leaking all over.” He let out a snorting laugh that morphed into a lengthy moan that sent a rush to Brahms’s throbbing cock, the heat in him growing almost painfully. He had begun to press a finger into his ass, opening up his tight hole, stretching it nowhere near as well as he was sure Billy could, but whimpering under his own touch nonetheless.

Brahms continued to stroke his cock, throwing his head back as the heat inside him overflowed and thick, hot cum shot onto his stomach, the world going blank for a moment. When his mind drifted back, Billy had gone back to moaning and gasping, sounds of slurping and wet rubbing traveling through the phone.

“You cum piggy? Billy talk you over so well that you creamed yourself?” Brahms could hear the grin in Billy’s voice. Brahms moaned in agreement, fingers tracing through the spilled seed on his stomach. “Filthy pig, Billy’s gonna cum. Pretty-voiced slut wants Billy to fill him up, poor needy piggy.” Brahms squirmed with pleasure under Billy’s words as the vulgar man became increasingly sporadic. “Wants Billy to slam his juicy cock into him, fuck him till he can’t stand, Billy’ll fuck his pretty pretty piggy until it hurts. Filthy piggy… you fucken whore, Billy’s gonna find you, going to make piggy scream.” He snorted. “Scream piggy, scream for Billy… Filthy Billy... Nasty-”

Slam

Brahms flinched back as the other end of the line went dead. He glanced down at the cum across his midsection and his already growing-hard cock. Billy’s words bounced around his head as Brahms set the phone back into its place, staring at it for a moment, wishing that Billy would call back. His heart raced while staring at the phone, but after standing there for a moment, nothing happening, Brahms sighed, turning back to his secret passageways to hide away in his room once more. He could only wait for the next wrong number and hope it was as interesting as this one, and until then, the memory of Billy’s sickly sweet voice and the threats? Promises? He had made would stay with Brahms for a long while.

___________________________

I never post the smut I write, so I donno. If you made it this far, I guess you liked it, so thanks :)

#billy lenz #black christmas #brahms heelshire #black christmas 1974 #lenzshire #slasher smut #billy lenz x brahms heelshire #slashers #slasher fandom #the boy #the boy 2016

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elvenbeard · 6 months

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It's 8:42 in the morning, I didn't sleep, I finished Phantom Liberty.

MAN. OH MAN.

I have so so so many emotions, I'm so... HHHH.

Big big big big big spoilers below the cut.

I only played through one of the expansion endings so far (siding with Songbird), and I played the new main game ending... and I'm such a fucking puddle of feels now hhhh.

What I can say is that... I still love the Sun ending a lot for Vince, and that won't ever change. But this new one now... I don't even know where to start MAAAnnn...

I started my 12 hour gaming session yesterday briefly before shit went down like... Feels like it was all in a different life (HAH). I really liked the whole prep-work for taking on Hansen, tracking down the rental car, the convo with Songbird about her past, and man, I said that before, the lil scene with Alex had me bawling. The little human moments of connection in the face of all the horrors Cyberpunk does so well that get me everytime. Vince getting up to dance with her was so fucking cute, and internally both me and him and Alex probably too knew that that would be the last moment of peace - and potentially (and he ended up being right) the last night they'd play on the same team.

Like... Even after the convo with Song, me, the player, was pretty sure I'd end up siding with Reed. He and Vince had a lot in common with their backgrounds, principles, etc etc. and Songbird seemed out of control, in a way, like Reed had said. But that whole sentiment he kept repeating ("she doesn't know what's best for her", "I gotta save her" etc etc) was beginning to creep into Vince's head and rubbing him the wrong way (having grown up with an over-bearing, controlling parent, the whole control-shit at Arasaka, etc etc) - subconsciously at first, but it got to a point where he could no longer rationalize it away.

AND THEN. FUCKING FUCK. The faceplate. I had been dreading that shit so fucking much, I knew it was coming but yeah... I think Vince would rather die than having that done on him out of his own free will. Like... the tech is insanely cool for a spy ngl. But Vince is not a spy. Not really. With his background and opinions of cyberware and everything... getting your face replaced is a step too far, a step he wouldn't wanna take, ever, unless like, he got his face melted off in a horrible accident or something like that. Not for a one-off mission, more or less, for people he didn't even fully trust. Both he and me were hoping that somehow there would be a way around it. Like you can talk your way out of taking the oath and so many other things. But no, this thing is forced on you (for plot reasons, obviously, and again, I fucking love the concept of it and the options it offers for gameplay. I'm really just speaking for my V's personal experience here XD)

That whole situation felt so fucking invasive to begin with, and I'm not even speaking about the cyberware. There was so much pressure, from Reed and the Ripper, zero explanation as to what exactly the Ripper was gonna do, just how invasive the procedure is (that it's not reversible just like that, for example). V was never shown the thing beforehand, never got an explanation what it's made of, how it works, how to maintain it. There way not a single friendly word, nocalming him down. Worst doctor expereience ever, and that's quite the achievement with Vince's trackrecord of dealing with horrible doctors in the past. The whole thing was traumatizing as hell for him, the whole experience, just being knocked out without much of a warning, then not even fully and HHHHHH.

And then he stumbles back out of there, desperately clinging onto the hope and trying to tell himself that it's all gonna be worth it, all the trauma, the pain, questioning his identity even more than he already does. But the show must go on. And so he goes on to kidnap the Frenchies, and for some reason he wants to believe these two nobodies will make it out of this mess alive somehow, against all odds. Yeah. No. But not just *that* they died, but *how* they died was the final straw. So fucking cold and brutal. Vince was shocked how Alex was suddenly so cold and brutal, although not quite as much as Reed. And then when Vince gets rightfully upset about the situation, how it was handled, how inhumane... Like, he had to kill a lot of people working for Arasaka, and as a merc, but he would always wanna make it quick, painless, if it was really necessary to kill someone to begin with. Unbekownst to the victim, bullet to the head, precise and quick. Especially if it was supposed to be an execution, not something that happens in combat. But these two kids were scared shitless, dragged out of the car and not executed but butchered, brutally. And when Vince gets upset, complains, is enraged about how unprofessional these two alleged spys are, Reed says "they were just some criminals, why would you care?" - you know, to the lowly criminal standing in front of him. That was the line that shattered the fragile trust V had left in Reed for good. Like... he didn't trust So Mi either, but she had just as many reasons to distrust Reed and the FIA and Myers as V, and he would've rather taken his chances with her instead after this final display of something he could absolutely not stand behind any longer.

Damn. I loved the whole sequence with Kurt, the convo, pretending to be Aymeric (from a player standpoint it was amazing, I also cackled later when I played Run this Town and got to use the disguise in a different context xD but honestly, Vince was hating every second of the meeting, also knowing he was just about to betray the people that hat brought him there.

Kurt's death was... maaan. Epic and a letdown at the same time. He would've deserved so much more screentime and a bigger part in all of it. I would've loved the option to side with him xD but then the DLC wouldve been even larger and even more complicated. Loved it as is though, still but yeah. Needs more Kurt!!!

Vince had no regrets about betraying Reed and putting his trust in Songbird until the very end... even when she ended up betraying him one final time with her revelation of the cure only working once. I fucking loved the confrontation with Reed on the bridge at the spaceport, I had been crossing my fingers so so hard for it to come to a showdown like that. I was so tempted for the dialogue choice of "take her, and I don't want anything for it in return". Cause like... despite everything, Vince had no desire to kill Reed. It wouldn't have changed a thing. Too many people had already died on his behalf anyway, and his hope for a cure was lost either way. So he ended up surrendering So Mi. I picked the option "deal", because I absolutely wanted to see the new main game ending, and I'm not sure if maybe with the "I dont want anything" choice you lock yourself out of it, but I will definitely test that out next time around.

The whole stuff that happened at the spaceport in general... I'm still trying to process it. And of fucking course Mr Blue-Eyes has his disgusting creepy fingers in all of it (or one of his associates) by helping So Mi, offering her this way out. I hate it (I love it). But that whole sequence of getting her to the spacecraft, I loved it so so much. Like all the boss fights and main missions, it was so nicely paced and structured, I had so much fun and I'm speaking as someone who is not good at fighting in video games.

So Mi's betrayal hurt, but letting her down in the end hurt even more. URGH. UUUURGH. But like... in that moment Vince was also like "okay... no cure. fine. But I'm not without leads, I'm just so done with all this spy crap. I should've never agreed to help her in the first place." If anything, he was sorry for things not turning out good for any of them really, but when do they do in NC.

He was glad to talk things out with Reed in the end to a degree, say his farewells. Still not getting his hopes up too high about him, still not really trusting him all that much. In a way still sympathizing, but at that point he'd be certain that he's done with the corporate world and anything like it for good. Revenge and hard feelings were pointless, Reed suffering from his decisions was punishment enough for Vince in that case.

I'm not sure if Vince would end up asking the FIA for help realistically. Like I said, I love the Sun ending for him a lot from a narrative standpoint. And Johnny's whole "please, don't do it", and him getting wiped as the price for it for good... that was at the same time not as bad as I had pictured it, but simultaneously it was awful. So yeah... I really don't know if, with all the choices present, the FIA would be number one. Realistically he'd wanna hear out Hanako first, and I think with how time-sensitive everything else is beyond that, the FIA is propbably off the table. Either way though... I wanted to see the ending.

I was bawling my eyes out during the AV ride, V and Johnny making up, talking a final time... and Johnny calling him Vincent in the end fucking destroyed me asödhjfasfasdf ;______; Doctor detected heightened emotions not just on V but on me as well that was so... HHHHHH. My feels ;__;

And then... the new main game ending. God. Like... ever since those new holocall icons of Kerry and Judy appearing a while ago, with Kerry's 2079 world tour promo... We had to get a timeskip. And I feared the cure would be tied to working for the FIA long term or some shit like that, something that would drive a wedge between V and his loved ones for good. The cure being tied to all sorts of horrible things I kept imagining...

And then the reality was so much more gentle and in a way so so fucking happy if that makes sense? Like... fuck, two years have passed. And fucking Reed and no one else in fucking Langley apparently considered even telling anyone back in NC about the complications of V's operation and all. Y'know, keep his loved ones in the loop after even telling him "tell your friends you'll be gone for a bit, a month tops". And that's the worst betrayal of the whole expansion for me cause like... it was so pointless. Did no one tell anyone cause they had no hope? Cause they wanted to sever V's ties on purpose? Was it Reed's decision, someone else's? Was it intended as punishment? Or was it downright laziness and uncaringness for V as a person, and he maybe just an interesting yet complicated experiment. That one really really hurt. And Vince could not blame Kerry or any of the others for being hurt by that and having moved on with their lives. He would've in their spot, for sure. And no, Reed, he absolutely fucking will not work for the FIA, fuck off. And then Vince fucked out of there as quickly as possible and never looked back.

The whole "your body can't tolerate implants anymore" thing... Did not really hit him that hard. Like... yeah. Netrunning, hacking, which he was always so fucking good at, is not gonna be a thing anymore in this timeline. And that he'll miss sorely. Feeling really really fucking capable about something he built a big part of his life around. That was a central part of his life for all his life, really.

But apart from that... he was always low on chrome. He wouldnt miss it nearly as much as other Vs I think. I think what he struggles with more is just recovering from the coma physically, how weak he is for sure for a while, the fact he probably will never be as fit as he used to be. But still... there's hope in that. Cause he gets to live. He never wanted to be a merc, he would make a damn good fixer for sure... but he'll find something else, something less dangerous. He won't be happy being just a nobody in the crowd, but he's also fallen from high places before and climbed back up, coming out on top every time, every time more himself, seizing new opportunities and making his way. He can make it out of that hole. Like, yeah, the timing sucks... But Kerry wants to see him again, and they can rekindle things. I'm sure they will. I'm so happy Kerry got to play at the Crystal Palace, he's so on top of his game, given how low he was when he and V first met. You know... he says he was hit hard by V's disappearance and potential death, but he's out there rocking the world. He's doing good, he didn't fall back into a spiral of depression and despair. And that makes me so happy. And Vince is gonna hold on to that thought of a future together not just not being off the table, but being so much more certain than before now.

Vince is upset about Panam being so upset, but he can understand her well. He wouldn't feel much different than her. He is sad about River not wanting to see him, but he hopes he can change his mind, somewhere down the line. He is so excited to meet Judy's wife, he is so happy she found peace and love. Hell, Vince would happily just be Kerry's useless trophy husband, if I'm being completely honest, and it's possible now. With no obligations in Night City left, no reputation to upkeep, they can do whatever they want. Rogue promises he wont be forgotten, he will be a legend of the Afterlife forever - one that actually gets to live a full life. Who can forget about all the horrors. He's gonna adapt and find his new thing and like, you know...

This little scene, and the farewell scene with Misty hit me so hard cause... remember this?

I actually... had something very very very similar planned for Vince in the long run that we get with PL now. I'm feeling extremely validated with my headcanons and ideas and concepts and just... Yeah. Not that that's absolutely necessary for fanfiction to be valid or anything, but I'm just... so happy.

I said it in a prev post, PL is the gift that gives on giving by granting me all my little wishes and confirming so many tiny random headcanons. But I didn't think it would also get me pretty much the ending I'd been working on already in the background, the one that he'd deserve. So yeah... idk. Cyberpunk can have happy (or at least bittersweet) endings, it does for me 100% now. V gets to live and survive, if you choose to, canonically.

#elven plays cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 #phantom liberty #phantom liberty spoilers #dont mind me it's just absolutely pouring on my face #I'm not crying about pixel men again noooo

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zensations35 · 1 year

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Cleaning Up Asgard (TVA Loki AU)

Between Quantumania and the new Loki season, I had to write a fic for my favorite trickster. This is based in the AU where Loki is working for the TVA, correcting timelines and stuff. Got some banter, some brotherly love, some action, and ofc, some illness.

The portal widens enough to step through. The entryway into Asgard is as mystifying as ever. Sure, he’s used to seeing places from the past--places that have been wiped from existence--but Asgard…it’s just different.

Different and the same.

Loki steps out of the portal, his boots clipping tiny echos across the marbled floor. He knows he’s alone in the chilly white blanched hall. Still, he must be quick. Patrols will be by soon. He inhales the familiar scents of magic, mutton, and nostalgia. That gripping deja vu he gets every time he takes a mission in his former home.

He doesn’t have time to reminisce though. He’s here because of…well, because of himself. What’s new?

This timeline is threatened because the Loki from this moment has received an offer from a higher power to kill Thor. Remove him from the playing board. Loki doesn’t know who is behind this--that is a whole other problem that Mobius is working on--but Loki’s mission here is to prevent himself, this other self, from taking action against Thor.

Currently, this timeline’s Loki is glamoured as Odin, presiding over Asgard as King. Loki feels he might be able to reason with himself. If he can’t convince himself to do something, who could?

Green light flickers down Loki’s body and his appearance is now that of a royal guard.

This mission shouldn’t be too difficult, even with the general weariness enveloping Loki like a woolen blanket wrapped tight. Mobius insisted he must be falling ill. But that’s nonsense. Yes, Loki has been more sickly than the average god, but he would know if he were sick.

It would be more than a scratch in his throat. More than a slight drip from his nose now and then. More than a sudden, unprovoked sneeze. More than a sense of vertigo when he camouflaged himself.

No, there would be more happening if he were ill.

As if to spite him, pinpricks blaze through his nose and he doubles over, “HN-gshk’T!”

Damn it all. He might actually be sick. The mere act of straightening back up sends twinges down his spine.

Very well. Even so. Loki has accomplished many things while ill. Malaise will never stop him.

He strides through the hall with purpose, heading toward Odin’s chambers. Or would he be on the throne now? Hm…

Paused in the center of the wide hall, Loki rubs his chin in thought. And he hears someone approaching. The footsteps sound aggressive, the sweep of a cloak snapping through the hall. Loki’s heart speeds. He whirls to see his brother storming down the hall, toward him.

“Where is my father?” he asks, voice booming.

Loki composes himself, doing his damndest to resist the urge to rub his nose. “I am not sure,” he quickly adds, “your highness.”

Thor looks peeved. “You are sworn to guard my father, yet you do not know where he is?”

Loki’s lips rub together. “He sent me on an errand. I am returning from the task.”

“What errand was so important to send his personal guard?”

“I…” Shit. Normally, Loki is quite good at improvisation. If his damned nose would stop itching-- “I am not at liberty to say, my prince.”

Thor considers him for a moment, then nods. “Very well. We shall seek him out together.” He takes long strides down the hall, expecting the guard (Loki) to follow.

Loki falls into step behind Thor, using the chance to swipe at his nose. His finger grazes his left nostril, but instead of controlling the itch, the touch ignites it.

“HHhh-!”

Loki squeezes his nostrils with his palm, but the fight is lost. He feels it peak before the sneeze spills out of him.

“HX-gnh” his shoulders shudder, but he’s confident he stifled well.

He sniffles thickly, head tilting back up to see Thor staring at him. Angrily.

“No,” Thor breathes. His eyes are a storm. Loki can see clouds. Rain. And...

Lightning.

Fingers wrap around Loki’s neck, making him gasp as he is shoved against the wall.

“Hgk--What in Odin’s name--”

Thor squeezes tighter. “Drop your illusion,” Thor commands.

Shit. Sneezing must have caused a flicker in his disguise. He needs to explain. He needs to think. He needs…khghhh…to breathe…

“Now!” Thor bellows, thunder cracking with his voice. The wall splinters and Loki’s vision darkens.

Loki flings off the glamour, revealing himself--an older version of the Loki Thor remembers.

Thor’s mouth gapes. “Brother?” he releases Loki and sucks in a breath. “How…” he takes a step back, “Where…” then, anger curls his lip, “I thought you were dead! I cried for you! I--”

“Mourned for me, yes I know,” Loki pants as he massages his neck. He straightens, “Well, I am alive, as you can see. But I have important business to attend to--”

“How long have you…what have you been doing?”

Loki sighs. This is going to take some time, time he does not have. He’s tempted to stasis his brother until he can get things taken care of, but it takes quite a bit of magic to hold a stasis bubble, and if anyone enters the magical dome, Thor would be released immediately. It is not a very efficient spell.

“Loki, if you are here for the throne--”

“Don’t be daft,” Loki waves his hand. “I am one hundred percent not interested.”

This seems to surprise Thor. “I don’t believe you.”

“I’d be shocked if you did, dear brother.”

“I will not let you roam these halls alone,” Thor says. “Tell me what you are up to. Or I shall detain you myself and bring you to Odin.”

Loki holds up his hands, “No need for that, I--hhh--” he closes his eyes, shaking off the tickle. I will not be interrupted by a damn sneeze!

“I am…” Loki’s teeth grind together. He was hoping to avoid this, but at least he can salvage it by erasing Thor’s memory of him later. “I’m from the future.”

Thor looks at him as if he just told him…well, you can imagine the look on Thor’s face.

“The future?” he looks amused now.

“Yes. This timeline is in danger. Odin has been brainwashed and is plotting to imprison and kill you.”

Thor belts out a laugh. “I see! And you, Loki, God of Lies and Mischief, are here to save me? From my father?”

Loki sags. All the times he’s lied and of course Thor chooses now not to believe him. Granted, he still is lying. But only a little!

“Brother, what I tell you is the tru--”

“I will not allow you to scheme your way to the throne again--” Thor takes a crackling step forward.

Loki needs to think--fast. But ihhh…it’s so hhhhhard…

Thor is still angry. He is as stubborn as ever. Loki needs to convince him not to imprison him or outright kill him on the spot. He does so have a temper. But…hhh--”hng”...first…

Thor’s body flashes green and he freezes in place. Loki is just a toe out of reach of the stasis dome.

Thank the stars.

Loki pinches his nose, quickstepping around the corner, shoulders tight as he sips air.

“Hhg’KTSH! Igxsshh! Exx’shh-ieh!” His cupped hand catches each one, the third leaving him sucking in a breath and groaning as his head lolls back against the cool marble.

Oh. That feels so much better. But now his bones are starting to ache, and he can feel his pulse in his temple. Drumbeats behind his eyes. Great…

He takes a moment to plan a rebuttal. He knows exactly what to say. He clears his throat and approaches Thor to dispel the stasis. It’s like pressing play on a film. Thor resumes his tirade, barely finishing his sentence before trailing off. His face falls, concern flashing through his gaze.

Loki’s lips part to speak but Thor is inches away from him, the back of his fingers grazing Loki’s forehead. Loki jerks back as if electrocuted. “What are you--”

“How long have you been ill?”

Loki’s eyebrows shoot up. “Beg pardon?”

Thor all but rolls his eyes. “Do you think I never notice when you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Stasis me so you can excuse yourself to cough or sneeze.”

Loki sputters, his tongue twisting. “I…” embarrassment flushes him as he remembers all the times he’s done this. “I haven’t…” he shakes his head, “Thor, it is imperative that you believe me. I am from the future, and I am attempting to correct things. I know you have come from Ijander, that you were sent to slay their Emperor, but you decided not to. I know you now seek the Infinity Stones.”

Thor’s eyes widen. His lips rub together and he gets a crease in his forehead, as it does when he thinks very hard. He stares at Loki, his fingertips trailing along a small scar on Loki’s chin. “You are different, brother. I see no malice in your eyes.”

Loki swallows. “I swear to you on Mother’s spirit, I am trying to help.”

Thor nods. “Very well.” He stands to Loki’s side. “Resume your disguise. And try not to sneeze.”

“Yes, well…” Loki coughs, “I need to do this alone.”

“I think not,” Thor laughs. “You wish to fight Odin yourself?”

“I was actually going to reason with him.”

“And that has gone so well in the past for you.”

“If you only knew.”

Thor presses a palm to Loki’s chest. “Let me go to Father. With this knowledge I can change what happens.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then what is your plan?”

“My plan is to keep you away from Odin. I will reason with him. Perhaps clear his mind from the spell upon him. Then all will be right.”

“That will not work on Father. It takes great power to alter Odin’s mind. You…”

Loki glares at him. “No, go on. You were about to explain that there is no possible way I could bespell Father, because I am not powerful enough.”

“Loki…that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, but it is.” Loki pushes past Thor, “Go, brother. Let me handle this.”

Thor grabs his wrist, “Why won’t you just let me help!?”

Loki whirls, “Because I refuse to watch you die again!”

Loki’s face is contorted with rage--but not his usual maniacal rage. This rage…it comes from a twisted soul who has seen too much. Knows too much. Thor has seen it on Odin’s face many times.

Loki withdraws, composing himself. His face slackens back to a neutral tightness, he smooths his shirt, tugs his tie, all while not meeting Thor’s eyes.

“How many times have--”

“More than enough,” Loki clips his words. He runs a hand through his tangled hair. “Very well. Enact your plan.” He turns away to leave, “Don’t fuck it up.”

Disguised as the royal guard once more, Loki enters the throne room with Thor at his side. Their trek has been in silence, much to Loki’s relief. It gave him time to think of a plan to get rid of Thor so he can confront his younger self alone. He knows if Thor joins the fight, he will die. It has happened before, it will happen again if Loki lets it. He will not.

They both kneel at the steps before Odin.

“Father,” Thor says softly. “I humbly request to take leave of Asgard. I wish to go offworld and seek the Infinity Stones.”

Odin’s lips purse and Loki can see the fire being stoked behind the facade.

“Thor Odinson,” the false King booms, “I have heard many whispers. Whispers that you intend to use these stones to thwart Asgard. To give them to the Avengers…from Earth.”

Thor blinks at him. “I…Father, you cannot think that I value them more than Asgard.”

“Do you?”

Loki doesn’t even know the true answer to that question. He remains kneeled at False Odin’s feet.

“Father, I would never--”

Odin slams his staff onto the ground with a resounding thump. “I have to take action. You will not be allowed off of Asgard. I will have you questioned as to your loyalty.” He gestures for the guards, “Seize him.”

“What?! No--Father!” Even though Loki told Thor this would happen, his brother still looks utterly shocked, as if he didn’t truly believe Loki. He likely didn’t.

Loki joins the other guards, pulling out shackles. A glimmer of green glints over the metal, Loki’s enchantment taking effect as he claps the chains on Thor. He leans far enough down to whisper in Thor’s ear.

“I’m sorry, brother.”

Thor’s blue eyes widen. “You--”

“It’s better this way,” he helps the guards hoist him up, “I will handle it.”

“No--stop, you can’t!”

“Guard!” Odin’s voice cuts through the moment. Loki stills, hoping he is not the target of that call. He turns and his gut twists when he sees Odin staring straight at him.

“Your highness?”

“Come here.”

Loki gives the struggling Thor one last glance before sweeping toward the false King. He dips into a low kneel, mind reeling with plans to use this situation to his advantage, flipping through each idea like a book.

The false Odin lifts his spear and tucks it under Loki’s chin. Loki tries not to gasp as his head is craned up to meet the false eyes of Odin.

“What is your name, guard?”

“I…” Loki’s lips come up dry. He takes in air to reply but the breath stutters. “Hhh--hih!” His hand juts up, fingers curling around the golden bar beneath his chin. He wrenches the spear away in time to plunge into his arm, “HK’SHHHT!” He’s not sure if his glamour held for that sneeze but he knows the next will drop it completely. Yet he cannot…”Hh-eh!” Stop it--

“XXSSHHT-eiu!” His shoulders wrench with it, spray coating the back of his hand. He teeters forward and catches himself with his other foot.

A grin coils Odin’s face, like a serpent winding between his cheeks. “Fool,” he thrusts the spear into Loki’s chest, knocking him back so the wind rushes from his lungs. “Did you think I wouldn’t sense my own magic?”

Loki pushes himself up as the Odin glamour sloughs off of the King, revealing the younger, horned Loki, that vicious grin splashed across his face.

Loki props himself up on his elbows and laughs. “Oh dear, did I truly think those looked good on me?”

The smile falters from King Loki’s face. “What are you? Some sort of clone?”

Loki pushes himself up to stand at full height, ignoring the twinges of pain in his ribs and back. “Listen,” he holds his palms up, “I’m not here to interrupt your rule. In fact, I shall leave you to your plots--just let Thor live.” He gestures behind himself, “Send him out to the stars. He will seek the Infinity Stones and find nothing. I assure you.”

“Sentiment for our brother?” King Loki scoffs. “When did that come about?”

“Bit of a year from now.”

“I see,” King Loki descends the steps, cloak billowing around his boots. “Well, unfortunately I have no intention of letting Thor live. It has been brought to my attention that his life is a risk to mine. So, I shall end it.”

Loki’s heart speeds. “According to whom? HRFFF!” the staff of the spear catches Loki in the side, tossing him across the hall, air whooshing from his chest.

“Do you honestly think I’ll stand here and monologue while you stall for Thor?”

Loki swears. He should have seen that coming. He pushes himself up and dodges another swing of the spear. It flies just above his face, making his hair rustle in its breeze. King Loki comes at him again, swiping the air with the spear. Loki dodges again.

“Seriously?” Loki can’t help giving him a sarcastic lilt. “Are you even trying?”

That pisses off King Loki. He sends five bolts of magic toward Loki. One catches him in the chest, but Loki is able to arc a spell to absorb the rest of the bolts. He splits himself into five illusions and tries to catch his breath.

A knife whistles through the air, catching one of the illusions, disintegrating it. Loki moves before he feels it--the sense of magic pressing around him. But he doesn’t move quite fast enough. A blade slips between his lower ribs and he hisses.

He takes a knee, pressing a palm to the wound, fingers sticky with blood. King Loki laughs at him. He aims the spear at the injured Loki. Loki casts a miosis-like illusion split and rolls behind the throne, tucking himself in the corner as his clone mimics his injury.

King Loki towers above the illusion and starts another annoying tirade about how doomed he is.

Loki wipes sweat from his brow and shivers. He just needs to catch his breath…then…

Ugh, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Loki had hoped to be done with this mission before the fugue of his illness affected his performance.

He can feel the extra effort the fight is taking, fatigue weighing his bones, the ache of each movement, the weakness of his spells. The “hhh” the absolute utter nonsense of trying khhhh …not to…hh--

He covers his face with his entire palm, hoping to muffle the sound. “HXMSH!” Tears leak from his eyes, he can feel dampness coating his fingers as he hitches into another, “Hih..ieh-HxSSkk!”

Loki has no time to react to the song of steel as the golden spear thumps against his throat. Loki coughs, chugging at the air, his wrist caught against the cold metal.

“Look at you,” King Loki spits from his left. “So weak! How did I let myself --”

THUNK!

Metal collides with metal as King Loki’s helmet flies askew by Mjöllnir.

Stars, Loki has never felt so relieved to see that blasted hammer.

The spear withdraws and Loki stumbles to the ground, hands splayed on the marble as he scoops air into his shriveled lungs.

He tosses his head back to watch the scuffle. And scuffle it is. Thor isn’t giving it his all. They’re going to end up losing if King Loki uses either of them for leverage--which he most certainly will.

Loki will not let it end like before. One more push. Come on.

His opening comes soon. King Loki uses the spear to blast Thor across the room. Loki slips behind him, dagger gripped in his hand. He grabs the false King and pushes the blade into the crook of his neck.

“Loki, no!” Thor cries out.

King Loki cackles. “He won’t do it. Kill himself?” Another maniacal laugh. “This is a ploy.”

“Wrong,” Loki breathes into his ear, feeling the edge of consciousness slipping from him. “We have spent our whole lives hating ourself. That’s what will make this so easy.”

He pulls the dagger across flesh and releases the false King to the ground.

The dagger clangs to the floor and Loki stumbles back. His side is slick with blood, his vision splotched with black ovals. He wings out an arm to catch himself on the wall.

His fingers scrape at the wall futilely, attempting to blink the vertigo from his eyes, but he feels as though he’s spinning to the ground.

Arms link under his, thick and strong. His brother’s voice soothing in his ears, “Loki, I have you…”

Then it goes black. Silent. Warm…

Before Loki even opens his eyes, he can feel the aching throb of his muscles, his shoulders, his head. Ugh. The pounding of his head.

He groans and reaches to massage his temples. His throat is dry and his lips crack open, breath shivering from his lungs.

He sits up, pausing when his head spins. When he looks around he sees that he’s been taken to Thor’s room. Thor is not present though. A tray with soup and an herb pouch sit near the bed. Much as he would love that soup, Loki cannot stay. He needs to reset this timeline. And it would be better if he didn’t see Thor first.

Okay, it would be easier.

Loki slips from the bed. Every movement rattles him, his arms and legs feel like lead. Standing is not easier. Loki wobbles on unsteady knees. He can feel tremors in his hands.

“Loki?” Thor’s voice makes him turn to see his brother entering with a frown. “Tell me you are not planning to leave. Not yet.”

“I..” Loki’s voice cracks. He touches glowing fingers to his neck and clears it. “I’m afraid I must.”

“You’re quite ill, brother.”

“Not for the first time, I assure you.”

Thor cracks a smile. “Little Loki, always sick with something.”

Loki chuffs, “At least I do not whine and act a toddler when I fall ill.”

“I do not do that!”

Loki folds his arms and laughs.

Thor hands him the bag smelling of spices and herbs. “I know what Mother used, but you have to enchant it yourself.”

“Thank you…” Loki hefts the palm-sized bag, nostalgia’s grip like steel on his heart.

Thor puts a hand on his shoulder. “Stay here, Loki. Help me put things right.”

Loki sweeps out of Thor’s grip and wobbles to his feet. “I cannot, brother. Things have gone…awry. I have to fix them myself.” He tucks the herb pouch into his pocket. “I am sorry.” He flicks a knuckle under his nose, realizing his nose is dripping.

He sniffles thickly, eyes flitting. His nose scrunches and he curls a knuckle under his nose. “Hhhh-iek…”

Thor’s arm stretches out, offering a handkerchief. Loki snatches it and dives in, “IT’CHHZZieu! HTCHssss--ik!” he lets out a string of coughs, bending lower and lower over himself. Then a sigh pulls him upright, blinking away the fatigue.

“Will you be alright, brother?” Thor asks.

“Of course,” Loki quips. “How many times must I come back from the dead before you believe I will survive a cold?”

Thor chuckles. “Keep that,” he points at the handkerchief.

Loki looks down at it. “Hm. I’m surprised it was not only clean, but folded in your pocket, rather than crumpled on the training room floor.”

“I stopped doing that years ago!”

“Upon Mother’s insistence.”

“Hmph.”

Loki steps toward the door but Thor blocks him.

“Loki, please--”

Loki places a hand on Thor’s arm. He looks into his brother’s eyes--eyes that will likely fill with hatred upon their next meeting.

“I’m sorry, brother.” Loki rears up and kicks him across the room. Surprised, Thor crashes into a table just as the stasis dome flashes over him.

Loki bites back a whimper as an invisible hand squeezes his insides. He forces himself to look away. He readies the tempad and reset charge.

He gives the room one last sweeping gaze. He looks at his brother, frozen in stasis. The version of Thor who might love him. “I hope to see you again, brother.” He balls up the cloth and tucks it in his pocket. Then he hits the button to reset the timeline.

Back at the TVA, Loki opens his desk and places the handkerchief next to the dozen other items gifted to him by his brother in a dozen timelines now erased.

He melts into his chair, eyes lagging closed, finally able to rest.

Perhaps one day…he might return those items, in exchange for forgiveness.

#sicfic #marvel #loki #tva loki #snz #illness #snzfic #fanfic #loki and thor #zenfic #sickfic #angst #mcu loki

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delilah705 · 3 months

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That scene in your fic where Kni carries the Reader to bed naked ;;uu;;

Words really can't describe how true to the characters I feel your fic is. I truly mean that. There are lots of pieces to break apart in Trigun and its main characters, and you manage to write their entire universe perfectly, beautifully! That includes emotionally and physically, Trigun is a tragic story of merciful morality vs total justice, and it reflects here even in the simplest words.

Another thing I appreciate is that you never beat around the bush with the details, I could sense the investment, you say how it needs to be said, I couldn't name a flaw if you paid me millions to seek one out. You don't need to read between the lines to read your fic but you do need to keep your ears open and your mind steeled. Because you need those things in a merciless dying world like Gunsmoke, with the way we were raised on the ships and how Vash and Kni will grow apart in the future you can't approach their topic without hardening your heart as their inevitable 'war' begins, the Reader feels so human and realistic-how we process trauma, dreams and emotions. We are very vulnerable, still at Kni's 'mercy' matterless if he really does love us, and I can practically feel it bleed through the lines.

Their war spams over a long period of 100 years, and I deeply doubt the Reader will live that long, I'm not ready for the future angst, for tragedy we will absolutely face! OOooh, I'm so excited.

I'll likely make more fanart later, now I'm gonna eat up more of your fics now >;33.

When I tell you I almost cried seeing this just now- His conflicted blushy face!! This is so good! I love it so much! The anatomy! The clothing details and the shading and all the little lines!! I feel like this really captures how he feels about reader. You did so well portraying it through posture and expression! I'm putting this in my little folder for fanart people have made for my fics so I can look at them forever.

ASf;sdh- 😭 I was over here making little whines and sobbing noises and happy little laughs this entire message. aaa- I had to fix so many typing errors before I posted this asoug- Thank you so much!! Trigun really touched me when I needed it most and I'm still so invested in the 98 twins' personalities and dynamics most out of the three Triguns! I worry so much writing this fic and From The Past Or Future? Your Guess Is As Good As Mine about how well I'm portraying the characters and the world around them, so it makes me really happy to hear it comes across as I intended in Where Wild Roses Grow. I even bought these little BESM guidebooks for guidance and rewatch the episodes for a refresher, to get myself into that world and mindset for these two fics in particular to try and get myself into Vash's and Knives' heads. I so, so love how tragic the story is for Trigun because I think it speaks a lot to real life. There aren't always easy answers, and your options are sometimes even bad option a or bad option b. And oh boy are there things I really wanna hit on that I won't be able to in WWRG in FTPOF concerning Vash's growth throughout the 98 anime because I appreciate it so much. He's still so much like that little boy he was when he lost Rem in some regards. And it grieves me so much that he only had one year with her and he clings to that so much. Trigun just keeps stomping on my heart even though I've already been on the anime journey three times now. XD It still hurts!

I so, so love how Vash and Knives are portrayed in this version if I'm honest, and I think it really bleeds into this fic. The way they are set up as yin and yang with the guns and certain scenes just drives me absolutely feral with appreciation. The butterfly scene?! And the one where they're holding their guns to each other's foreheads?!? So good… Hhhh- 😭 Thank you so much! Omg. I'm so thankful to you and everyone who has left me kudos, comments, and bookmark comments on this fic, giving me inspiration and determination to continue it because I'm so happy with how it has turned out so far, and so happy it could touch and bring enjoyment to so many people. It all started as just a horny little idea of being in a twin sandwich (XD Which I didn't even use the original sex scene that spawned it all!) and just escalated from there. It went through several drafts before it became what it is now, and there are still portions I haven't decided whether or not to share in a final extras chapter or use for something else. I cannot say enough how, well, invested I am in these particular versions of the characters. I really wanted to touch on their trauma in this fic, the way they processed the cards they were dealt so early in life, and their wishes for the future. Bringing the reader into the mix makes things so interesting in my mind. And it's honestly just so fun to explore their emotions and the way things have changed with the events that have taken place. I'm so glad that it comes across as realistic! :'D I really did try to put myself into each characters' shoes, even if we don't always get much of the boys' point of view, I still think about what they're thinking at any given moment. And oooh boy, I hope I really captured that persistent dreadful feeling of Knives' will just looming ominously always. He's such a… Wild card and very controlling, and it's interesting to analyze his change and how he becomes by the current times in the series.

AAAAA- I can't say anything!!! XD I want to, but… I'll spoil everything. aspfa0su- I'll just be blunt and honest and say the answer comes pretty quick next chapter as to reader's fate. And do prepare for angst because boy howdy. Depending on how things go in the writing department, this might just be the last one. I would just say there's not much left to have happen, but with the way I write,… Sometimes it just gets really out of hand, so I can't say. I just think this chapter will be the last. There's still a lot of feelings to process, especially on poor Vash's end. Oh, I am too!! X3 I've already started writing it. It's only 6KB that's strung together right now for the start of the chapter, but the entire document is 103KB, so there's plenty of notes and scenes to shift through and put together. A lot of time and effort tends to go into this fic's chapters so it could be a month or more before I finish it, but rest assured I intend to give it a conclusion in the near future if possible! >:3 I'm so hyped to get into the ideas I've been holding onto since even before its post date! This ending has always been the one I've had planned for it.

As;jfa- >//w//< I can't wait to see it/them if/when you do and decide to share! Thank you so much for sharing this with me! It's so lovely! Have fun! XD I hope you enjoy them! I have a bunch more fics in the works if I can ever get the inspiration and time to finish them. Take care, alright?

#Sfw #Lovely fanart of my fic! :D #someweirdoreblogger #someweirdoreblogger's art!#Millions Knives #Where Wild Roses Grow #WWRG #Trigun 1998 #Reader is so smol in his arms! X3 Mans needs to be more gentle with and appreciative of her!!#Smh at him so much while writing him in this fic. He's so blind.#But boy howdy 👀 This next chapter is going to tackle some things. Prepare yourself.#Ask

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go-to-the-mirror · 1 year

Text

@a-mag-a-day,

Once again, this is a stream of consciousness ramble as I listen along. All quotes will be take from the official transcript. I have a lot of thoughts about this episode, so this'll probably be a bit more organized than a lot of my other streams of consciousness rambles.

Without further ado, enjoy.

Jonathan Fanshawe is writing such a salty breakup letter and I love him for that.

I could get was a sense of resignation and the insistence that his master, who I took to be Albrecht, wanted the tree dead. I am sure that he used that word, though. Not ‘burned’, not ‘removed’ or ‘destroyed’. Dead. I resolved to ask Albrecht about it when I saw him.

I wonder what that tree was. Like, Albrecht must have had some reason. Maybe it says what it is later, I've forgotten some of this episode.

an errand I remind you, Jonah, I undertook at your insistence.

He sounds so angry when he says that, as he should tbh.

Again, he ignored me. Instead, he took the seat opposite me and started to tell me a story. And then another. And another. A stream of strange tales began to pour out of him, and I just sat there, transfixed, desperately wishing I had the strength of will to stand and leave, but all I could do was listen. He told me of a seamstress who laced her body with fine black thread, and when she pulled it all out in a single swift motion, her skin dropped away like a loose shift. He told me of a man so scared to die he spent a year weaving a rope blindfolded, so that he would not know the length and could not foresee the moment it would tighten around his neck when he finally threw himself into the void. He told me of a fire that burns so hot and fierce that to even know about it is enough to burn a man’s tongue from his head. He told me so many terrible things.

I don't know what to say to this. Spooky? It sure is spooky. Obviously it has some similarities to Jon's whole thing, especially in the eyepocolypse, it's safe to assume Albrecht was an avatar, or perhaps just cursed by these books. The seamstress who laced her body with a fine black thread seems to be the only one that isn't connected to The Eye, however if these books were from before Smirke codified his taxonomy of fears, or at least before it caught on, then they're probably more interconnected, or separated in a different way.

“You do not understand,” he said to me in German, “I do not read the books. They read me.”

This reminds me of one of the books Mike Crew encountered.

I spent some time with a small grey volume, I think it was in Cyrillic, that decided it was at home amongst my bookshelves. I couldn’t read it, of course, but… when it tried to read me back, I buried it on a lonely stretch of moorland.

It's probably not the same book, but it makes sense that Mike's book would have been Eye aligned, in a categorization way to make it comprehendible way.

What shall I tell you, Jonah, about this fool's errand, that damnable journey we embarked upon? Shall I regale you with the awful experiences of transporting a library’s worth of books through the Black Forest? Perhaps I should write you an in-depth account of finding that ancient cemetery, of descending into that bleak and frozen mausoleum? Or would you prefer to hear about the hours we spent placing volume after volume on empty, grey shelves, ignoring how out of place the new bindings appeared against the antique stonework? No. I’m sure all you want to know was how Albrecht died. Why it was that, as I replaced the last book taken from that place, I heard his scream from the top of the stairs and ran up to find him sprawled and dead before the stone coffin.

This reminds me of a couple of statements, what first comes to mind is MAG 38 - Burnt Offering and MAG 102 - Nesting Instinct. The statement giver being angry at having to give their statement, or the person giving their statement. I like that. Anyway, Jonathan, get his ass!!

I hope they bring you much wisdom, Jonah, for the cost was dear enough.

HHHH!!!!

Do I need to tell you what I found, Jonah? Do I need to detail what covered his organs, his bones, the inside of his skin? What clustered together in their dozens, and all turned as one to focus on me as I opened his chest, their pupils constricting in the light, with irises of every hue and colour? Because whatever it was that did this to him, I know in my heart that it is your fault.

Chills. CHILLS! It's just. I love this statement. Love this barely contained rage. Fuck yeah Jonathan!!

Hm. Jonah Magnus. I’ve never really given much thought to him, not nearly as much as I should have. I suppose I had always hoped there was a chance he was… innocent in all this. I know, I know. But I had… I had just hoped that maybe the founding of the Institute was in earnest and not simply the foundation stone for all the terrible things that have happened here. But no. Whatever is happening now has its origins two hundred years ago, in the work of an evil man.

Oh, Jon, you don't know the half of it...

ARCHIVIST Just another scar for the collection.

First of all, Jon please treat your body with some respect challenge. You need to live in it. Being so cavalier about your physical health isn't great! Though, understandable considering your current mental state (bad). Secondly, uuhhhhh yeah sure, just another scar for the collection. Definitely not anything more than that. Don't Worry About It.

BASIRA You were sat on the floor for like four hours. ARCHIVIST Oh. No, I was, uh, I was… listening. You know, trying to see if any of the statements… called to me.

Basira just comes into Jon's office and sees him just lying on the floor lying on the celling and just backs away slowly asdfdaf

ARCHIVIST It’s… hard. It’s like there’s a, a door, in my mind, and behind it is, is the entire ocean. Before, I didn’t notice it, but now I, I know it’s there and I can’t forget it and I can feel the pressure of the water on it. I, I, I can keep it closed, but sometimes when I’m around people or places or… ideas, a drop or two will push through the cracks at the edges of the door. And I’ll Know something. BASIRA What happens if you open the door? ARCHIVIST I drown.

This is such a good explanation! I like how it ties in with some future lines, and all of that. It's got the door stuff, oh boy, and it just really helps me conceptualize what spooky knowledge is, you know? People have explained it better than I have, so I'd recommend just finding those if you want people to wow you with their incredible brain thoughts. This episode is just really good for thinking about.

BASIRA The part where you pretend you don’t spend your whole time watching us? ELIAS Sometimes I’m eating.

ASJSAJDKFA I HATE ELIAS BUT I LOVE THIS LINE

In conclusion, I love this episode, Jonathan Fanshawe my absolute beloved, Basira don't do it don't trust him please. I hate Elias sososososo much and this episode has like all the reasons <3.

Your obedient servant,

landscaping-your-mind

#tma #the magnus archives #mag 127 #jonathan fanshawe #jonah magnus #basira hussain #jonathan sims #a mag a day #tma spoilers #mike crew #landscaping your mind chapter one

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bteezxyewriter12 · 2 years

Text

Drunken Night

Pairing- Jin x Named Reader

Word count- 2.3k

Includes- drunk sex (consensual), missionary, cock riding, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxxmine

@yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana

@tannie13 @borntowalkaway @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝 BTS Masterlist

📝Jin Masterlist

Part 2

Jin POV

We stand in the liquor section of the supermarket, trying to decide if we want regular vodka or one of the flavor ones

She already got her tequila

I want to try whiskey so I got a bottle of that

"Mango", she says

"What no!", I shake my head

"Yes. I like mango"

"But mango really? Why not lime?"

"Boring", she sings

"I just have good taste while yours is sub par"

"Fuck off Jin. I'm getting the mango one" she scowls

"Fine then I'm getting the regular one"

"Fine!", she rolls her eyes

Sometimes she drives me crazy

No scratch that, she's been driving me crazy since we met a few years ago through Namjoon

She laughed at one of my jokes and I immediately liked her

We got to be really good friends, hanging out anytime I had time

And after coming back from tour, I have a few days off and I called her

She was gonna go out to a club with her friends but she changed her plans because she knows I'm not great with crowds and people I don't know

I felt bad she changed her plans, so I told her we could get some drinks and watch a movie

She agreed and here we are arguing over vodka

We both grab the bottle we want and head to the cash register

The cashier rings up the bottles and I pull out my card, paying for it

"Kim, Seokjin, no!"

"Oh c'mon Jo", I snort, "It's just some alcohol. That I'm going to drink too. It's not a big deal"

She scowls, "Fine but don't do that again"

I roll my eyes, "Ok Jo"

She sticks her tongue out at me and I just laugh, "Very mature Jo"

"Yes I am. Now let's go"

I grab the bags before she can, with her giving me a glare

I smile sweetly at her and we leave the store, heading for her apartment

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

"Ugh", I groan, making a face

"Ugh what?", she groans

"This tastes hhh...hhhh..horrible", I slur, leaning back on the couch

We both had a few shots of each liquor and we're drunk

We just broke out the mango vodka and I had a sip

Nasty

"You... you...don't...uh... like like like...mmm...mangoes?", she slurs

"Yesh I uh um do. But not with vvvv...vodka. Gross"

She starts laughing hysterically and I don't know why

"Not funny", I frown which just makes her laugh more

"Is this the same as how you like bbbbb...bananas but but but not things that taste like bbbb...bananas?", she babbles

She looks at me confused

What is she talking about?

She said so many words about bananas and I heard her say I don't like them?

She knows I do

"I llll...like ban...ban...bananas", I frown more

"Ok", she shrugs

"I don't llll... ah...like things that that that I'm um taste like bbb...bananas"

"I say that!", she yells, "Right? Right Jinnie? I said said tttt... that?"

Did she?

I don't remember

I shrug, I don't know

She huffs at me then takes my shot glass and down the rest of my vodka

"Hey! That. Is...uh.. mine!", I yell

She drank my vodka

Without asking

Not nice

"Yyy..you....you said you no...", she trails off, stuttering, "No like"

"But...but...but"

It's so hard to think of words

My brain thinks them but my mouth isn't saying them right

"But it still mine!", I whine

"More?" she asks and I nod

She holds my glass trying to pour more into it but she keeps missing

"Jinnie, help!", she whines

"Uh ok"

My hands are wobbling and my vision is shifting just as I try to pour the vodka

And I get it all over her hand that's holding the glass

Shit

"Jinnie! My hand!", she protests

"Ssss....sorry"

She just takes the bottle and drink from it

"Hey! That's.....yuck", I mutter

She hands the bottle to me and I drink from it too

"Ugh!", I say, tasting the nasty flavor and swallowing it

"You..you said you want more", she says confused

"No no no more. Gross", I declare

"Then gimmie", she says reaching for it

"No", I shake my head, leaning back and holding the bottle out of her reach

She's gonna smell like mango and it's gonna make me throw up

"No more this. You have have have mmmm...mango breath"

She looks at me shocked, "You too"

"No"

"Yes"

"No"

"Gimmie", she shouts lunging for the bottle

But she misses and lands on top of me

"Ow", I complain, her elbow hitting me in the stomach

She glares at me like I did something wrong, her face so close to mine

"Then give me!"

"No!", I snap

We glare at each other for a few seconds before she moves closer

Her lips crash into mine in a kiss

How did this happen?

How am I kissing her right now?

I don't know but kissing her feels good

She pulls back looking at me confused as I feel

But I want it again

"More", I ask

She moves so fast, her mouth on mine, her arms around my neck, hands in my hair

I drop the bottle, hearing a crash as it hits the floor

I don't care

Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her to me tightly

I slide my tongue in her mouth and hers touches mine, feeling so good

Feeling her on top of me and kissing her makes me hard

Fucking hell I want her

I haven't had sex in awhile and I'm so horny

I pull away for a second, "Want you", I say, then go back to kissing her

"Want you too", she says, then kissing me again

She wants me too

Thank God because I need her right now

I sit up making her sit up too

Grabbing her shirt, I lift it over her head quickly

Reaching around her I try to undo her bra but I can't get it

Fuck it

Using both hands I pull, ripping the back of it, the fabric tearing in my hands

Grabbing the front of it, I tear it off her, then stare at her body

"Holy shit. Fuck", I breathe looking at her

My drunk brain registers that her body is fucking perfect

And so hot

I just want to touch her so I run my hands up her body, slowly

"Fuck Jin", she moans, grabbing my shirt, pulling it off

Her mouth drops staring at me

"Fuck Jin. Yyy..your body...uh.. fucking sexy. You're make me...so uh so... fucking horny"

"Good", I growl, pushing her back against the couch

Immediately hooking my fingers under the waistline of her pants and panties, I pull them down

I get off the couch and get everything off her

Then I take my pants and boxers off, getting back on the couch

Opening her legs, I suck in a breath

"Oh my my uh my fucking ggg...god", I moan staring at how wet she is

I just got harder

"Now Jin!", she yells, reaching out and touching my cock, "Want you now!"

Fuck yes

Leaning over her, I kiss her lips and bury my cock inside her

Oh god she feels fucking amaizng

"Fuck yes", she yells, holding onto my upper arms tightly

I start moving fast and hard listening to her moan and scream

"Jin oh my god Jin", she yells, "Fuck so good Jinnie. So fffff...fucking big and so fucking hhhhh.....hard"

Oh god she's turning me on so much

"You gggg...good. So tight. So wet", I groan

"Harder Jin. Fffff....fuck me harder", she demands

I nod, opening her legs more, slamming hard into her

"Yes Jin fuck!"

I feel her getting tighter on me, making everything feel so much better

"Jin, Jin, JIN!", she screams, squeezing my arms so tightly as she cums on me

"Holy shit!", I gasp

Oh my god it feels incredible

I fucking love it

I'm not going to be able to get enough of it

Bending her leg, I lean on it and holding her other leg open, I thrust harder into her, going in deeper

She screams loudly, her body shaking and moving up the couch

I want to hear her scream more, so I pound back into the same place

"Fucking hell Jin. There! Right there there there Jinnie!"

Hitting that spot again, I tease her, "There Jo? You want uh there?"

She nods her head rapidly

"What going to happen if I keep...keep....keep fucking you there?"

It's hard to think of words but I want to know the answer

"I'm gonna...fuck.... I'll cum on your...your ..uh...your cock", she shouts

"Promise?", I ask, getting excited

I want to feel her cum again

I fucking love it

"Yes!", she moans

"You sure? I'm going to mad if you don't ... don't...cum on me", I slur

Fuck it so hard to talk between being drunk and the massive pleasure I'm feeling

"I will. I pppp...promise. Jinnie!"

"Good uh girl", I answer, snapping my hips and burying myself in that spot in her over and over

It doesn't take long before she screams again, her pussy throbbing on my cock so fucking hard as she orgasms

"Seokjin! Oh my god, Seokjin!"

Fuck, I never loved hearing my name as much as I do right now

When she finishes she pushes me back

"What?", I ask confused

"Shh", she says kissing me and pushing me on my back, "Wanna ride uh ride you. Want too?"

There's nothing I want more than that

I nod quickly

She kisses me hard again, going on top of me

She sits up, getting me inside her and sliding down my shaft

"Fuck!", I moan as I watch her shake on top of me

From getting me in

Fucking amazing

She grabs onto the back of couch, leaning back and grabbing my thigh tightly, holding on

Fuck the pain feels so fucking good

She starts moving, bouncing hard and fast on my cock

Pleasure blasts my body as I watch her ride me so fucking well

My eyes are glued to her breasts which are bouncing hard from how hard she's fucking me

"Fuck Jin. You're fucking cock. Is uh fucking amazing. You feel so ..sss....so good. I love you cock inside mmmmm....me"

I whimper listening to her

Fucking hell, she loves me inside her

I love being in her

But the pleasure is so intense I can't speak

She get so tight on me making me gasp

"Sss...shit. Ddd don't let go", I moan

"No? Bbbbb..baby likes my pussy this ttttt.....tight on his cock? Feels good?", she teases

"Yes. Yes. Fffff...feels so good", I pant, breathing hard

"Does baby boy want mmmm...me to cum on his bbb..big hard cock?"

"Yes fuck please please please. Yes!"

She smirks, riding me harder, slamming herself down on me

"Fuck Jin", she moans, as I feel her get closer

"Want watch Jinnie?", she asks

Yes

Yes I do

I nod

She moves her hand from my leg, burying it in my hair and moving my head down from looking up at her

"Watch my pussy cum on your cock Jinnie", she orders

My eyes immediately move to her pussy fucking me

"Fuck", I whisper

My cock is fucking soaked with her cream as I watch her her slide up and down

Her legs start shaking and she screams my name coming

I watch her soak my cock with her cum, every time she slides up

"Fucking hell", I whisper

She lets go of my hair, grabbing onto my leg again as she keeps slamming down on me

I snap my hips up when she comes down, going in a lot deeper

"Fuck", we both yell at the same time

She's so tight, making every move we make feel out of this world

Sliding my hands on her hips, I hold on to her tightly

God the way she fucking moves is driving me crazy

It's like she's making sure I'm feeling so much pleasure

I fucking like that

"Good Jinnie?"

"The..bbb...best"

She smiles down at me, "Good. I want my Jinnie to ffff.....feel so gggggg....good too"

"I do Jo. You making sure I uh I.... I do", I moan

"Want my Jinnie to cum"

Fuck I want to cum too

"Yeah princess?"

She nods

"Wwwww....here do you want me to cum?"

"III....inside"

Oh god yes

I slam up into her, trying to make her cum first

"Oh fuck Jin!"

After a few more slams, she screams loudly, her body shaking on top of me as she cums

Her hand is digging into the couch while the one on my leg is gripping me hard

"Seokjin!"

She comes down again and I cum hard inside her, pleasure taking over

"Joanne, oh shit", I yell

"Jinnie, Jinnie, fuck Jinnie", she screams

And I stare in complete shock as she cums again, shaking and sweating so much

Holy shit!

Did she cum from me coming?

Is that possible?

No girl has ever orgasmed from me coming

Only her

That's fucking insane

I lay back on the couch, breathing hard as we finish

She's still on top of me, her head back against the couch back cushions

I watch her chest moving hard up and down as she breaths heavily

Reaching up for her, I move her on top of me, her head on my chest

"I can hear your heart Jinnie. It's beating so fast", she says softly

"You made it that way Jo", I laugh

She giggles too and it's so fucking cute

I play with her hair as we lay on her couch

After a few minutes I hear her breathing evenly

She fell asleep

On me

I can't get up now, I don't want to wake her up

I'll just stay for a little longer before I leave to go home

Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her to me, closing my eyes

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saltv2 · 1 month

Note

That makes sense! I was thinking some of it had to be inspired off of the Palestinan struggle as well as other similar struggles for freedom. but the point still stands even if it was a search for freedom, because really the queer community is only looking for freedom, although nowhere near the same as people who are actively oppressed for where they were born, by a group that has their heads so far up their ass they can't see their own flaws in their logic while they murder children. I feel very strongly about this. mm.

I do have gotta say this though, if you plan on making the sub-zone as a metaphor for the search for freedom and the minority, you probably need to make sure that it's PROPERLY done. I've seen so many sci-fi dystopian stories with suppressed groups that end up always the same- liberation due to one person's/one groups efforts.

I am begging you to not let nerika win oh my god I hope she girl-fails so bad. Not because I don't believe it can happen (I hope desperately it can happen. I really do. And I KNOW it can happen, but it cannot under the conditions you have set.), but it's obvious it's a deep social issue rather than the entire sub-zone hates the big city kinda deal. They cannot liberate themselves if they cannot unify. Nerika, by fighting gangs and making herself a local danger to society, is only worsening the issue.

(don't spoil your story because I'm being pissy btw, just wanted to throw my opinion out.)

Also, does outside cities gaf about SubZones issues? What is the size of the SubZone, and how is it split itself? I know this might be answered in the comic but it's good to note that the two area map isn't realistic at all- each will have little SubZones of their own, areas controlled by gangs and areas more controlled.

Not everyone in the SubZone is gonna be miserable, and not everyone in nerom (cannot spell lmao) is gonna be living the life. There are no black and white. There is only grayscale.

Sorry if this got a bit ranty but there's some questions sprinkled in here. I have a lot to say but I'm hoping this ends up as good as it's promising to be, it's a neat concept and has a lot going for it. But it's also easily fucked up. Dystopias are difficult as FUCK. Ig if you'd like recommendations of what id personally consider well done and realistic dystopias, it's gotta be Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury, 1984 by George Orwell, and Brave New World by Aldous Huxley (warning on all of these btw these are WILD. And all of them are men leads but hhhh it's hard to find good ones with woman leads bc of the 2000's YA novel phase unfortunately. And I'm a whole ass dude dawg. Also these are old as fuck.) none of these fit the "vibe" of DaD (these are about individual freedom, what a human is really capable of, and how humanity prefers comfort over reality, but hey, examples are always good.)

Thank you for the recommendations!!! I was actually looking for things that could set an example and stuff i could learn from!

But yeah, I won’t spoil the story but i assure you, a victory because of 1 person will not be an issue.

Nerika’s actions will haunt her in some way, that’s literally why alaria exists. And that’s why winfrey and amelia exist.

Outside cities are not entirely aware unless they’re in partnership with Neom in conducting the experiments, the SubZone is disguised as basically a glorified shelter. I guess the best way to put it, do you know the fake town made for people with dementia? The SubZone was made to look like that, but the Size of texas.

And yes the “little SubZones” statement is in fact true, there are areas controlled by certain people.

And that’s correct, not everyone is miserable in the SubZone, and not everyone in Neom is happy.

Anyway thanks for the rant, i’m more than open to more of this or criticism in general

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tuxedaaron · 1 year

Photo

This pair of pics was intended to reveal the design of Hobgoblin I came up with for the Spectacular Spider-Man animated series, just to give everyone a little preview of a series of Spectacular Spider-Man fanfics I wanted to write. Because I had so many stories in this series to write, there was simply no way I could POSSIBLY do it on my own. So I took it upon myself to draw some pics of some of the broader concepts I have in mind, in the hopes that it might draw interest from other fanfic writers to help me. Hobgoblin was definitely one of the first pics I wanted to get out there, because I plan for him to play a BIG role in these stories. Those who are well-versed in their comic book history will undoubtedly recognize the first image as being inspired by 1983's "Amazing Spider-Man", issue #238, “In the Shadow of Evil’s Past”, which marked the Hobgoblin's first appearance. Granted, on that cover, the Hobgoblin is seen destroying Spider-Man's costume, but replacing it with the Green Goblin costume, to me, was far more significant in its symbolism. After all, let's be honest, folks. We ALL know that Roderick Kingsley is the ONLY Goblin that matters.^_^ I have to admit, though, that is the most dubious I'd ever been on any art project I've worked on to date. While I refused to be deterred and continued to press onward, even as I moved from the pencil work to the hard lines, the whole thing just looked like a jumbled mess and I really couldn't tell which way was up, just by looking at it. It wasn't until I started adding the color in that everything started to finally come together. Still, while I was reasonably pleased with the outcome, the final product still seemed overly cartoonish, even by SSM design standards. The second image was definitely better, as I sat down and started putting a proper design together. The head turned out to be the easiest part. Just like with the comics, I simply took the original Green Goblin face, gave it less exaggerated features, demonic red eyes and voila. It was maybe two minutes of work and I was just like, "There. That's it. THAT'S my Hobgoblin". But THEN, I had to start designing the actual COSTUME and THAT'S when I ran into problems. Most of the issues stemmed from the fact that I was getting too focused on "classic" Hobgoblin and those elements I wanted to have from the comics. I even wanted the curled-up, pointy shoes. But as I went back and looked over the SSM Green Goblin design, I realized just how many things were radically different. For one thing, he wasn't wearing the pointy elf hat, but more like a flight cap without the goggles. And he didn't have a tunic over his chest, either, it looked more like chest armor. And then, there was the jack-o-lantern belt buckle and the loincloth and the big, honkin' space booties. And I was just like, "Uuuh-hhhh...how do I make THIS work?". Because I couldn't get tunnel-visioned on the classic stuff and end up doing a total tear-down of the design. One of the aspects of Hobgoblin was that both he and Green Goblin shared the same basic design elements in their costumes. So how was I going to maintain the spirit of the new SSM design and still input the things I wanted? That was when I realized I had to take a step back and look at the whole concept objectively. And when I was at work that night, I started thinking about Roderick Kingsley's mindset in the comics when he started knocking around the idea of becoming the Hobgoblin. While he liked the whole Goblin concept in general, which is why he kept the basic elements intact, the one thing he knew he DIDN'T want to be was another GREEN Goblin. Because as far as Kingsley was concerned, Norman Osborn was a clown and he LOOKED like one. And Kingsley decided right out of the gate that if he was gonna DO this thing, he didn't want to look like a clown. He wanted to look like a BADASS. So that's what got me thinking, how do I take all the elements that made the Green Goblin look GOOFY and turn them around to make the Hobgoblin look DANGEROUS? And that was when all these ideas started flooding into my head, which I just HAD to get on paper the next morning. I took the jack-o-lantern belt buckle and turned it into a skull, ripped up the loincloth and the cape, threw in some chains and leather straps and even added spikes on the boots...which, if you notice, actually allowed me to give Hobgoblin the curly boots I wanted without ACTUALLY making them. And as for the glider, I went and added horns. Basically, the whole idea was to make him look like some demon who had just escaped from Hell, and despite the cartoonish look of the SSM character designs, I think I pulled it off quite nicely. All-in-all, I'm quite happy with this pic and even if the stories never get written, I hope everyone else at least likes the image. ^_^

#tuxedaaron #fanart #marvel #spectacular spider man #hobgoblin #marvel comics #spider man

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linksthoughtbrambles · 1 year

Text

Not counting the enemy.

Part 13 of Adventure Log+ (sequel to Link's Thought Brambles - it will be better if you read in order! Warning for some strong language).

Tired.

Doesn’t matter. She needs to rest.

Erl does too, I guess, but she’s the critical one.

Again.

First house: four.

Second house: safe. Two people.

Third house: safe. Kids. Lots of kids. Don’t forget. Safe kids. 9 kids. 13 people.

Fourth house: one. One safe.

Fifth house: five.

Sixth house: three.

Seventh house: seven. Numbers. Match.

Master.

Eighth house: four. Again. Like we came back.

Master.

She needs to sleep.

If they’re not- not here when she wakes up, we go. Can’t keep waiting for them.

Master!

For all we know, Daile never made it. He could’ve died on the way, and then there’d be no one rushing here to meet us.

Please, master, listen.

I’m listening.

You were not responding.

To the word ‘master?’ What was I supposed to say?

A simple acknowledgement perhaps.

I’m not up for snark.

‘Snark’ is not my intention, master.

Fine. What IS your intention?

To suggest you wake the Princess to take a short rest yourself.

Not a chance.

You need rest too, master.

I’m used to hunting. Used to going without sleep for a long time. Used to being… watchful. She’s not.

She is every bit as resilient as you are.

Doesn’t mean I’ll foist burden on her.

YOU are foisting nothing. You never have.

No cryptic words now, please. I don’t have any room to think about it.

You have… I’ve never had a master behave as you have.

Sorry to disappoint you.

I did not indicate disappointment.

Surprise, then.

Yes. That.

Another 15 minutes or so. Then I wake her up. And I’ll feel terrible because it won’t be nearly enough sleep but we have to go. She needed a little. She needed to process.

We head west. Next farm over. Hope they aren’t all like the last ones we found…

25 dead. 16 safe. Safer. Alive at last look. Yeah. That last one’s true.

Stupid hard farmhouse logs. Hurts to lean on for long. Wiggle. Better.

Shoulder. Head. Ouch.

I need to lean. Just for a few minutes. Can’t afford to lay down. Just a little… little breather.

Glow’s still far off. Hasn’t moved.

Zelda’s safe. Nothing here. Not anymore.

NNN!- no…

Stand up straight, Link you dumbass. F#$%.

You are more tired than you claim.

No ‘master’ this time, huh?

You did not respond well to it before.

I figured it was like Zelda. Where you HAVE to call me some title because it’s not in your protocols or something.

Very nearly. Use of your honorific is certainly preferred.

By who?

Hylia.

You’ve spoken to her.

I have.

Recently?

…Yes.

Damn. What… does she say?

Many things, master.

I… “Oh GODdess.” Fi, I am getting so tired of having to beg for scraps of information from you. Please. PLEASE. Can we skip the part where I ask you s@#$ and you don’t answer until I find the one thing you’re willing to say? “Hh-hh-“ I’m-

Breathe, Link.

Master-

Wait. Just wait.

Breathing.

Better.

I… am… so grateful for what you told us. I’m sorry I’m so short with you. I’m not usually like that.

It is stress, master.

“Heh. Hehehehehhh- hhhh- yeah.” Yeah, I know. I don’t like finding people dead. Apparently I like it even less when the dead walk again and I have to put them down.

Master-

And you know what I really, really hate?

…

I hate all of her effort having been for nothing.

Master-

Nothing.

The slate. The shrines. The guardians. The Divine Beasts. All of it. A trap?

That is the most likely-

Yes. I know. You said so. An 89% probability the spell around the castle was cast by the fortune teller. Who also said the power to oppose the calamity was dormant underground.

The Sheikah’s now-ancient technology made the battle 10,000 years ago swift and decisive. It had never been so easy for… any of my masters or the spirit maidens. They had never had such an abundance of power aligned with them. And yet even then, the dark beast which emerged tore the land asunder and injured my master.

So you’re pretty much saying any trap sprung means I’m dead.

Not-

I won’t make it.

Do not jump to that conclusion, master, I implore you. Past iterations… have overcome seemingly insurmountable odds.

But none of them have ever failed. Right?

…

RIGHT?!

Fi-

I hesitate, master. There are inconsistencies.

How can there be inconsistencies? It seems pretty simple, you’re in your master’s hand either way, right? Either they win or they don’t.

On the surface, master, I would agree with your supposition. But reality does not bow to thoughts—not even mine. Not even Hylia’s. Reality insists upon there being ‘calamities’ which you have both won and lost.

What- what do you mean? How do you KNOW?

My memories, master. I possess three distinct sets of one particular event. And… multitudes of other, less critical ones.

You.. “Hhhhhah…” You remember the same thing three different ways, you mean?

Correct.

Well… how do you know it was real? I mean… memory isn’t perfect.

MY memory is perfect, master.

Okay, fine – but what about dreams? Do you dream?

I do not.

Skies.

In those memories, one version of my master prevailed. He destroyed the evil one, known as Ganondorf at the time, allowing the kingdom to heal. However, that was not the end.

…I’m listening. You have about… 7 minutes, though, before I wake Zelda.

That should suffice.

I hope you can accept the knowledge that it is possible to travel backward and forward through time with certain magical artifacts.

“What?!”

Please, master. They’re sleeping.

My master returned through time to seven years before the event. I existed in my pedestal through that time, without the happenings from before occurring at all – no evil. No Ganondorf. No removal from my pedestal. No great battle. Not until over a century later. And yet the first memory must be real in order for the second to have happened…

…Yeah, okay, I follow you there.

And yet, master… and yet… I recall languishing. Languishing in neglect and despair, for… my master was gone.

You mean because he put you back in your pedestal?

No, master. He was gone. He had returned through time to before he’d ever removed me from my pedestal, and yet…. I remained. In both places. Languishing in one world, my spirit broken with his absence, and waiting in the other for the next time my master would take hold of me, whole.

In the world where I languished, I did so for many centuries. I diminished. I became less than I was after my first Hylian master re-forged me in the fires of the Sacred Flames, and less even than I once had been before that, when the Goddess forged me for herself, for the great war against Demise. In that world, I never had a true master again. Once, a child’s hands took me, a power entering me from sages’ magic, a power neither my own nor my wielder’s—I was merely its conduit, and my wielder a set of hands to aim me. I could not speak to him. I could not speak to anyone. I was all but dead.

And yet… there was a third world emergent from the others, one amongst multitudes coalescing from many small points in history, many places in which my master unintentionally caused small paradoxes.

I appreciate you not interrupting master.

I’m riveted, please don’t stop.

Very well. In this third… conjunction of worlds, the evil one cast me from the hands of my master and erected a magical barrier. My master could not reach me. The Spirit Maiden attempted to penetrate the barrier and failed. My master fought and fought and fought but without me, he tired and could not deal a killing blow.

He lost.

This, as I said, was one of the three, a conjunction of many paradoxical events in time. It is the only one in which my master has succumbed to his ancient foe.

The Spirit Maiden-

The Princess-

She took me up.

She and the sages of that era slowly drove the evil one back into the dark realm from which his power sprung and sealed him there—undefeated, but contained.

She used me as the final lock on that seal, as another had before he breached the realm itself, but the dark power flowing from the evil one’s dark world shot through me, festered within me for unimaginable ages—for so long these events were obscured by the mists of time and became legend. The power damaged me, master, after so many long years. By the time my next master took hold of me, I was no longer capable of communication. I had barely any power left in me at all, and his circumstances were so dire he never flourished. He never was able to fully restore me. He did try.

… Are you… I mean, is that the whole story? Are you done?

It has been seven minutes.

WH- “Gph.” Eight is okay, seriously-

I could go on for days. Years. Suffice to say, master, in two of these sets of memories I was far less than a mere shadow of what I am now. In only one did I remain… whole. Yet here I am. I contain these memories. I know these worlds.

And so do you, master.

“Pff. No, I really don’t.”

You have… channeled… at least one quite distinct memory from that last world I mentioned. Something regarding a distinct pink lagomorph which was incapable of ‘hopping.’

“Huh?” What the frick is a lagomorph?

A rabbit, master.

…What?

Hippity hoppity.

WH- no, no. You don’t get to be cute.

You are smiling, master.

“Heh-hh.” Yeah. Good job.

I exist to aid you, master.

I don’t remember any pink bunnies.

You did while you were delirious—when the arrow still lay within you.

Ah.

But I was delirious.

The memory was quite distinct. I recognized it instantly. I was not with my master at the time, but I have access to the memories of my wielders. I know of it from that.

… Okay. So, I can remember things from your previous masters.

You can. You have.

She is so trying not to outright tell me I AM all of them, isn't she? All of her previous masters. They’re me.

...It is complicated, master.

That’s closer to a ‘yes’ than I’ve gotten out of you yet.

It has been ten minutes, master.

Right.

We can get back to this later.

I’m really, really sorry to have to do this, Zelda. “Hey. Hey-“

“Mm-m.”

“It’s me. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry but we can’t keep waiting. It’s almost dawn.”

“Mmmm. Hh. Link.”

“Yeah.”

“Dawn?”

“Yeah.”

“H- heaven- I didn’t intend to rest so long!”

“It’s okay, it… it must’ve been later than we thought. I definitely didn’t let you go much more than an hour. You needed it, though.”

Oh- slate. Yeah.

“Oh- my. You two have been talking.”

“Yeah.”

“Link, it’s not dawn yet.”

“But-“

“Look!”

4:47 am. “Wait, what?”

“Why did you think-“

“Well, look!” Damn sky’s red!

She’s giving me a funny OH! OH S#@$- “What the hell?!”

“Link. The Sun does not-“

“Rise in the West, yeah, yeah I know!” Holy crap, why am I so stupid?! “Is it fire?!”

“Smoke. I- I don’t see any.”

“I’m waking him up.” Up, Erl. Sorry, man-

“Rr-rh.”

“Get up, man. Sorry. Really, though, we have to MOVE.”

“Nn- need to sleep more.”

“Sorry, man, you just can’t. Look!”

“Oh- ohhh. Oh no, no. No-“

“Yeah. Rionee!”

“Link, wait-“

“What?”

“We’ve no plan!”

“We go there and we hack whatever’s doing that to pieces.”

“You- you can’t do that, Sir! Princess- it’s a fire, it’s fire, it’ll spread on the plain. We all need to move out right now, right now or we’ll be burned to death!”

“Erl, man, that’s NOT fire-“

“I can’t. I can’t chance it. No. I go back.”

F U C K.

“You cannot take Rionee away from here. I am quite sorry, and I shall see to it the crown compensates you for necessitating your involvement in our mission. But I cannot allow you to take Sir Link’s horse.”

Dammit. Dammit man, don’t you keep inching toward her.

“Ww- w-w-we’ll all be killed!”

“I don’t know what to tell you to make you stop moving toward Rionee, but you have to. If you don’t stop, I stop you.”

“You wouldn’t do that. Sir. Sir Link. You- saved me. You wouldn’t harm me, you wouldn’t.”

“Didn’t say I’d hurt you. But I’d stop you.”

He’s still eyeing her. Looking all around. Trying to figure a way out that gets him the horse.

Dammit, we can’t even trust him to ride her WITH us, now. He could try to bolt. I’d have to ride with him, or Zelda would.

Ah.

Yeah, that’s it, isn’t it? “You and I’ll take Tass, Erl. Zelda takes Rionee.”

“I’m not riding into that with you, no Sir. Sorry, Sir. I can’t do that. I c- c- ant.”

“With all due respect, good sir, the only other option is for us to simply leave you here. Is that your preference?”

Aw- no, no way-

“Y- gmph- y- yes. Yes, please. I can’t go there. I can’t do that.”

Holy s#$@. “Man- come on. Seriously, for your own sake, what if there are more of those things coming this way?”

“Y- you didn’t- didn’t see what I saw!”

“We saw plenty, believe me, and you do NOT want to be alone out here trying to deal with it! You got lucky once!”

“N- no. NO. I won’t. I don’t want to see him again.”

“Good sir… your brother is gone.”

“NO, not HIM. No- no. Waiting. WATCHING. In.- in- the RED.”

“What?” I thought that was his brother waiting outside, turned into a ReDead. What the hell is he talking about?

“The- the- the- the- MAN.”

Specifics would be good.

Don’t be a dick, Link.

“Erl, there was someone else? Not your brother?”

“Of course- of course- not- not Mizral MizRAL Misral, my brotherHH hh- hhh- hhhhhheehhhh-“

We should’ve been more careful. I didn’t realize.

“Who was it, sir?”

“I don’t know. How would I know? Just a man. Someone. Thought- but n- no. Not Sheikah. Hair. Hair wrong-“

“Well, actually not all- Sheik… ah…” …have white hair and why is Zelda glaring at me like that?!?

“Please ignore my knight and his highly insensitive interruption.”

Oh. Ohhhh.

“Why did you believe him to be Sheikah?”

“The- he had- a thing.”

Waggling your finger at Zelda’s hip isn’t going to help much. It’s the only slate in existence.

“He had a piece of ancient technology?”

…Oh.

“Y- yes, Princess.”

Maybe I should’ve taken a nap after all.

“What kind?”

Indeed, master.

“D- dunno. Round.”

Snark…

“Round? How large? Was it lit, like the slate?”

“Lit up, yeah, not like that. It was gold and then it was that- that- horrible purple- the- the mud-glow.”

… Zelda’s thinking-face.

“P- princess- this big. Like this.”

“… Zelda?”

“It- sounds like an ancient core. Except for the color, of course. I could be wrong.”

What is an ancient core, Princess?

“Fi asks what an ancient core is.”

“It’s- the energy source. The one which powers a guardian. They vary in size and capacity, it seems.”

…I would like to examine the properties of such a core.

“In good time… very well, Fi, but at the moment…”

Her eyes look lost on mine for once, looking back and forth as if one of mine will have the answer she’s looking for. I’m sorry. Really sorry, I don’t have it. What does it matter if this person has an ancient core?

Those lost eyes on Erl, now.

“Good sir… please forgive me for continuing to pry, but what did this man do?”

“He- he just- watched, Princess. I swear. He smiled. And he watched.”

“Did he see you?”

Yes? … Really? “He didn’t try to hurt you?”

“He didn’t do anything but watch, I swear. That mud, it was all around him. And THINGS came out of it. One grabbed my brother, and it was like everything was just sucked right out of him, like. All the blood. Moved through the air. Hit that- thing you- the core.”

“Which… this man held?”

“Y- yes.”

I have next to no information on the operation of the Sheikah technology. My master did not wield me long in that age. However, this would seem to suggest the object held by this man was able to absorb spirit energy.

“Is that a thing?”

Master.

“… Sorry. Yeah, you said so, so it’s a thing.”

Thank you, master.

“… Like a poe?”

Astute, master.

“Wow. Okay.” I really wish I could sit down. I think if I sit I might not get back up for a while and that’s just not okay.

Rionee- here, girl…

“Y- you’re leaving?”

“Is… there anything else you can tell us, sir? Any idea why you were spared?”

“I- I ran. Hid in the house.”

It doesn’t sound right, does it?

Not right at all.

Why would this guy get away with just hiding in the house if whoever or whatever this was was looking right at him?

Okay, Link. Think about this. Check Rionee over- check her wound like you would anyway but keep an eye on Erl, too.

I mean there’s no reason not to trust him, right? He was with us this whole way and he never tried to hurt us or anything. Right?

Right?

And he wants to leave. Can’t say I blame him.

But why would this watching-man let him go?

Maybe so there’s a witness. Maybe someone wants us to know what’s happening? But why would they want to do that? What would they get out of it?

Fi?

I am uncertain master.

Am I being paranoid?

…No.

…No?

No.

S#$%.

F#$%. I can’t seem suspicious. I can’t.

Zelda’s checking the slate, it’ll seem-

“It’s still only 4:58 am. We- we ought to decide soon. What to do.”

She’s looking at me.

I think that’s the first time she’s ever given me a look I didn’t like.

What does she want to do?

Can I incapacitate him without really really hurting him considering he might actually just be a helpless farmer and totally innocent?

Master.

Yes?

If he is not aligned with you, if you strike him with my energy he will be affected.

Oh.

Okay, s$%$. I need an excuse. An excuse to pull the sword.

You are quite quick master.

Yeah, but he’s… almost in arm’s length of Zelda and I need time to focus energy either way, right? I’m not unharmed so it takes me time. You don’t do it for me.

I regret to say that’s correct, master.

“Hhh. Ah, well. Either way, Link and I must be off and shortly. Tass-“

Yes. Yes, good. Good, keep moving and he’s looking at me like he’s terrified but now that I don’t believe him something doesn’t look right does it it doesn’t

Draw-

“S- Sir Link?”

Oh f@#$.

Looking over his shoulder. Zelda’s acting casual. Good… good.

“I- have I offended you?”

“What? No. What makes you say that?” …Shit, did I JUST SAY THAT?

Damn, Link. I guess you CAN lie if you need to.

“You- your sword-“

“What about it?” Focusfocusfocus don’t telegraph

“You’ve… drawn it, Sir!”

don’t telegraph just like the melee “I need to pray” when I was against the wall “for you.” Focus focus harder this time

“F- for me?”

Attention split “Yeah, man- you kidding?” talking acting casual “You’re staying here” serious but casual “so if anything shows up” focusfocus “you’ll need all the prayers you can get” focusfocus almost I feel it

“I- I- th- thank you. Thank you, Sir Link.”

Nodding focus nodding “You’re welcome.” Focusfocusfocus grip heSEES “AAAH!”

“AAAAAAH!”

“ZELDA!” IT BLEW HIM BACK!

IN THOSE TREES “S#$%, can you see him?!”

“I cannot!”

Holy S#$%, Link! This guy- he- “He was with us the whole time!”

“I know, Link!”

“The whole TIME!”

“I know!!”

“Hh-hh- hh-“ where the hell did he go? He could be unconscious. Or running. You’d think we’d’ve heard something, though.

I don’t- dammit, if we turn and ride away from here he could intercept Daile and the others!

INTERCEPT DAILE AND THE OTHERS.

“Zelda. Daile.”

“Yes. It occurred to me, too.”

“We can’t let him go.”

“No.”

Into the copse then. No, not copse, really- it’s the head of a heavily wooded area and dammit, if I’d circled westward I could’ve shot him in front of the house instead. But no, instead I’m a total total idiot and Zelda and I TALKED in front of this guy for hours!

…No. No, we didn’t.

Because he only heard a little of the conversation.

The slate.

Praise, praise, praise Hylia. The slate! We were talking to Fi so much. Half the time I didn’t even BOTHER to talk out loud, Zelda was reading. Praise you, Hylia. You’ve already lifted my dumb ass out of the sands of stupidity, haven’t you?

So… he heard Zelda. He did.

But not the rest of it.

Not the rest.

And there’s not a f$#$cking sign of him. “I don’t see anything.”

“Nor do I.”

And her sight’s way better.

But don’t say it out loud, Link. Don’t. He… might be listening.

Rap her shoulder.

Yeah. Back out. Come on – just in case-

No, he’s not back out here with the horses, but they’re freaking out, they trotted east a bit.

Good.

Zelda – rap rap – come on, mount. Rionee and Tass. Alone. The way we should be. No third rider. I’ll explain later, but we… we have to ride…

Not the way we were going to.

But toward our allies.

Daile.

Margil, Beraya, Chee, and the tech lab.

He let us take our slow half-circle. He was trying to pity-convince us to let him take a horse back south toward them.

He was going to kill them?

Why not kill us? He was with us so long.

Maybe he was going to misdirect them, too.

And if he was trying to misdirect them, then he WANTED us to go west, toward the red sky, while he got to separate from us.

…I think.

I’ll check with Zelda later.

Fi?

It’s reasonable master, but I do not understand this person’s motivations. I, too, do not understand why he would not take the opportunity to strike.

Unless his description of the man watching with the ancient core or something was just a flat-out lie. Maybe we really have no information about it at all except that this guy’s against us.

It’s possible, master, but I have noted in my long life that those of wicked dispositions frequently enjoy bragging. I find it likely he did, in fact, describe himself.

“Good girl, Rionee. Sorry. Sorry about that. Zel-?”

“I am well. Up and on.”

“Yes.” Good girl. South by southeast. “Hup, girl!”

“On, Tass!”

We ride like the wind this time again. My goddess, I’m sorry Rionee.

And I’m so sorry—whoever is to the west. I don’t know how to choose except to pick what seems to be worst for the bad guy. I just don’t know anything.

Keep looking, Link. Turn. She’s doing it too. Good. Let’s do that in a pattern, Zel. Yeah, she sees me. Keep watching.

I don’t know what I’m looking for. A man who can outrun a horse? I have no reason to expect he can do that. I don’t even have a reason to expect he’s magic.

Yes you do, master.

Do I?

This entire situation displayed signs of advanced magical prowess. Dark magics similar to that of the Sheikah in far ancient times—the magics in the ancient Shadow Temple. Dead Hands. ReDeads. Masterful illusions. It’s possible the face we saw on the man calling himself ‘Erl’ was in fact not his face.

Yeah. Yeah. I’ve heard the Yiga can disguise themselves, too.

The members of the Yiga clan at the festival successfully disguised their weapons’ appearance, but could not disguise the fact that the illusion existed. I detected it. I detected nothing in any of the locations on this plain. And… there is the presence of Malice, master. There is magic at work here—dark magic.

Dark magic.

Hiding his face. Maybe.

My count might have been wrong.

Not 25.

26 dead. 15 alive at last look.

Well… technically that last number’s still 16.

I’m just not counting the enemy.

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