#I wasn’t quite sure what you wanted here so I hope this format is okay!

[pronoun-checks]

Hello. May I Have A Separate Name And Pronoun Check With The Name(s) And Pronouns, Lain && Sewine, It/Its/Itself Byte/Bytes/Byteself Zomb/Zombs/Zombself Idol/Idols/Idolself Pup/Pups/Pupself Frill/Frills/Frillself Melt/Melts/Meltself Lamb/Lambs/Lambself Ribbon/Ribbons/Ribbonself Divine/Divines/Divineself.

Sure thing!

Lain it/byte/zomb/idol/pup

Wait a second, is that Lain? I think I see Lain over there! Do you see it? It’s the one sitting by itself with its headphones on. I wonder what byte’s listening to? Anyway, you’ve met Lain before, right? No? Well, you’ll have to meet byte sometime; I think you’d get along nicely with byte. I’ve only spoken with byte once or twice, but zomb seems pretty neat. Zomb didn’t say much about zombself, though. You don’t see zomb? Idol’s the one sitting by idolself on the red chair. Do you see idol now? Yup, that’s Lain! Oh, hey! Idol’s looking this way now! I think pup’s waving at us? Yeah, pup’s definitely waving at us. Do you want to go meet pup? Sure, let’s go say hi to pup! Hey! Lain!

-

Sewine frill/melt/lamb/ribbon/divine

Wait a second, is that Sewine? I think I see Sewine over there! Do you see frill? Frill’s the one sitting by frillself with frills headphones on. I wonder what melt’s listening to? Anyway, you’ve met Sewine before, right? No? Well, you’ll have to meet melt sometime; I think you’d get along nicely with melt. I’ve only spoken with melt once or twice, but lamb seems pretty neat. Lamb didn’t say much about lambself, though. You don’t see lamb? Ribbon’s the one sitting by ribbonself on the red chair. Do you see ribbon now? Yup, that’s Sewine! Oh, hey! Ribbon’s looking this way now! I think divine’s waving at us? Yeah, divine’s definitely waving at us. Do you want to go meet divine? Sure, let’s go say hi to divine! Hey! Sewine!

[stardustloki]

Being Useful

When Wrecker is injured, the entire Batch agree that he needs time to rest and heal. This is why, when Shep asks the Batch for help with a task that will be sure to make his injuries worse, Omega is baffled when her brothers agree immediately.

The Batch know that they're safe on Pabu. However, they haven't quite understood that their safety doesn't rely on them always making themselves useful.

Tags: Gen, Omega and Wrecker POVs, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Found Family, Past Trauma (Kamino was NOT a good place), Non-Graphic Description of Minor Injuries

Read on Ao3 here.

Or under the cut...

“That should do it,” Echo said at last, securing the long bandage he’d wrapped around Wrecker’s torso. “It’ll heal up fine, but-” he fixed him with a stern look- “only if you rest and give the bacta time to do its job.”

Omega watched as Wrecker visibly deflated.

“You mean I’ve got to sit around doing nothing!”

“If you don’t put any strain on your muscles for the next rotation, the bacta will do its job and the tears in your trapezius will heal.” Echo folded his arms. “If you don’t rest them, if you go around lifting heavy things, they won’t heal, and you’ll be bored for much longer.”

Wrecker stared up at the ceiling, letting out a frustrated sigh. “ Fine. ”

“Lyana was going to teach me how to make sushi today,” Omega spoke up. “You could come with me, if you want. It should be interesting, and we’ll be eating a lot.”

As she waited, hoping her brother would say yes, she caught the grateful look Hunter was sending her out of the corner of her eye. Getting any of her brothers to take it slow after an injury in the field had always been a difficult task, and Wrecker, with his boundless energy and need to move, had always been the worst of them. If he said yes to this, at least she knew he wouldn’t put any strain on his back for the next hour or so.

Her brother looked thoughtful for a second, before smiling at her. “Yeah, okay. I guess that could be fun.”

“Awesome!” she replied, feeling the excitement swell within her, jumping up slightly on the balls of her feet.

She waited, hoping she seemed far more patient on the outside than she felt on the inside, as Hunter helped Wrecker get his shirt back on and Echo packed away the medical supplies. Crosshair was sitting on the bench near the door, chewing a toothpick and tinkering with the settings for his prosthetic hand.

Without warning, Hunter seemed to freeze, glancing at the wall of their home, moving his head slowly towards the door, as if tracking someone. A few seconds later, there was a knock. Omega shrugged and went to open it.

Shep was outside, grinning widely at her through the doorway. She couldn’t help but grin back at the man she was slowly coming to consider her uncle.

“Omega! How are you?” he asked.

“Great, thanks. Looking forward to hanging out with Lyana! What about you?”

“Eh, I’m alright. But there’s been a couple problems I’m hoping your brothers will be able to help out with. Can I come in?”

“Sure!”

She stepped aside to let him in, but as she turned back towards her brothers she found herself frowning, brain stuttering in alarm. 

Hunter, Crosshair and Echo were all standing in between Shep and Wrecker. With the way they’d staggered themselves, the pattern appearing almost natural, perhaps to an outsider like Shep it wouldn’t look as if they’d placed themselves in a defensive formation, clearly attempting to shield Wrecker, but to Omega it couldn’t have been more obvious.

What wasn’t obvious, however, was why they were doing it. This was Shep. One of the nicest people they’d ever met. There was absolutely no need to protect Wrecker from him.

“Good morning, how are you boys today?” Shep’s voice was as welcoming as ever, but Hunter was far more guarded when he spoke.

“We’re all fine, thank you.” Omega frowned at Hunter’s words, she wouldn’t class Wrecker as ‘fine’. “How can we help?”

“There’s a house down near the coast, it got damaged real bad in the storm last night. I was hoping you’d help rebuild it. Wrecker would be a real help bringing up some of the building materials from one of the ships in the dock.”

“Sounds good,” Hunter replied. “Just tell us where the house is and we’ll be there.”

Wait, what?

She waited for Echo to speak up, to repeat what he’d told Wrecker just a few minutes before. Neither Echo nor Crosshair opened their mouths to speak. Instead, they watched Shep with neutral expressions, clearly waiting for him to carry on the conversation.

“Awesome, I’ll send you the address on my comm and-”

“Wait, stop,” Omega interrupted, because if everyone was gonna act like they’d lost their minds, at least she could be the voice of reason. “Wrecker can’t help you, he’s-”

“He’s fine, sir,” Hunter cut across her.

She could literally feel herself gaping at him, but he didn’t spare her a glance, keeping his steady gaze firmly on Shep, who surely must be realising this was weird, right? Hunter had just called him ‘sir’, for kriff’s sake. Hunter had never called him ‘sir’.

Thankfully for her sanity, Shep did seem to find this weird, because he was frowning at Hunter, his head tilted slightly.

“If Wrecker’s injured in some way…” he began.

“It’s nothing,” Wrecker said.

“Nothing serious,” Hunter added, the ‘s’ on serious a little too stuttered for Omega to believe that he hadn’t been about to call Shep ‘sir’ again before cutting himself off.

She stared at him incredulously. Not serious? Okay, it wasn’t serious like a blaster wound was serious, or like a chip in your brain was serious. But, even though he’d tried to hide it, she’d known that Wrecker had been in agony before Echo had applied the bacta, and he’d only stop the injury from healing, or even make it worse, if he started lifting things now.

Besides, Shep considered a small cut serious. She knew because of how he’d fussed over Lyana the last time they’d cooked together and Lyana had nicked herself when her knife had slipped. He’d also been way too concerned when Omega had fallen down the stairs during a game of tag with her friend - she’d only had a couple of bumps and grazes after all, they were basically routine on missions! There was absolutely no way he’d consider letting Wrecker hurt himself more by helping - so why weren’t the others telling him?

“If you’re sure,” he replied, an edge of uncertainty in his voice.

“No, he’s-” 

Hunter made a clearly frantic but barely noticeable gesture in battlesign, with one of the hands he was keeping firmly by his side, telling her that she needed to stop, now. She cut herself off, scowling at him.

If Hunter was using battlesign that meant this was important, that his orders needed to be followed. She knew it also meant he must have an explanation for this, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be frustrated, even as she obeyed. It wasn’t her fault his orders made no sense. 

“Omega’s upset because she invited Wrecker to make sushi with her and Lyana,” Echo said, eyes flickering down towards the floor as he struggled with the lie.

Shep fixed her with a kind smile. Omega did her best to look like it didn’t irritate the hell out of her at that moment. “I’m sure he’ll be able to help next time. So,” he addressed the others, “I’ll see you boys in half an hour or so. If anything changes, or you’re not able to help for any reason, just let me know.”

After he’d left, Omega let her brothers feel the full force of her glare.

“What the hell was that?”

She was surprised to hear Crosshair speaking those words, considering they were exactly what she’d been about to ask the four of them.

“I could ask you the same,” she snapped, folding her arms. “Have you forgotten that there are small tears in Wrecker’s back muscles. Do you want him to get hurt worse.”

Crosshair took a step towards her. Omega only narrowed her eyes further.

“Have you forgotten that they allow us to live here, that they protect us from the Empire even after it invaded their home, because we’re useful to them?” He replied. Omega felt her mouth drop open for the second time that day. “Have you thought about what happens when we stop being useful to them?”

“They invited us to live here because they like us, because they care about us!” Omega protested.

Crosshair scoffed, and, as she glanced at the others, hoping that they’d back her up on this, she could see they looked a mix of wary and uncomfortable.

“I’m sure they do, at least a bit,” Hunter told her, voice gentle, as if he was telling her something difficult to hear. Omega supposed it was difficult, if only because they were being so ridiculous. “But they’ll probably like us a whole lot less if we don’t help them.”

“He wouldn’t want Wrecker to be in pain.”

“I’m fine, Omega,” Wrecker said, walking over to wrap her in a hug, which she gracelessly accepted. “I’ve had to deal with worse, way worse. I’ll be back here recovering before you know it.”

“He probably wouldn’t want Wrecker to be in pain,” Echo agreed, “But-”

“There isn’t any ‘but’ to this!” Omega snapped. “He cares about us, he cares about Wrecker. That isn’t going to change because Wrecker can’t help out one time.”

“Sorry, kid,” Wrecker told her, gently ruffling her hair. “You aren’t going to win this one.”

She sighed, allowing her head to rest against his chest. “Fine,” she groaned. “Guess I’ll go make sushi with Lyana myself then.”

The frustration and anger remained within her throughout her walk along the sunny streets of Pabu. It hadn’t abated by the time she reached Lyana’s, not when she was aware that Wrecker should have been there beside her, not walking in the other direction, about to start doing an activity that was only going to hurt him and make his injuries worse.

Whatever Omega might think about Echo’s lying skills, hers weren’t much better, and Lyana could tell something was up almost as soon as she’d arrived. Well, Omega wanted to know the truth, and she didn’t much feel about hiding what had upset her anyway, so once they were both sitting in the comfortable wooden bench on Lyana’s patio, sipping on the smoothies her friend had prepared, she asked Lyana if her dad had ever stopped liking her because she hadn’t helped him.

Lyana was horrified. “No! Why would you even ask that, Omega?”

She shrugged, but felt her heart lighten at the answer. “Has he ever stopped liking someone else?”

“No! Omega-”

“Wrecker’s injured, he’s hurt his back really badly,” she explained, relieved that she’d been correct. “But my brothers think that if they don’t help your dad, then he’s gonna stop being kind to us or something.”

Lyana gaped at her. “But he’d never do that! He loves you guys, we both do!” She thought for a moment, eyes flickering from side to side. “I’ll comm him, let him know what’s going on. He’ll know what to do.”

For the first time in the last twenty minutes, Omega felt like the world was slowly starting to make sense again. And, as Lyana’s call connected to her dad, she let herself smile at that.

Wrecker walked down to the house near the coast, flanked by his brothers on both sides. He felt sad for Omega, for how upset she’d got on his behalf, but really, he’d be okay. Sure, this was going to be difficult, and it was going to hurt, but he pushed through pain on missions all the time. Besides, he knew with absolute certainty that it was going to be nothing compared to the tests the scientists and trainers had put him through back on Kamino. Sooner or later, his injuries would heal and he’d be fine again. It didn’t really matter that making sushi with Omega had sounded nice.

As they approached, Shep waved to them, and they waved back, before making their way down the steps towards him.

“Where do you want us?” Hunter asked.

Shep explained their tasks, one by one, until he got to Wrecker. He passed him the fishing rod he was carrying. “I’d like you to sit on the jetty and catch us some fish for lunch.”

Wrecker could tell by his brother’s reactions that he wasn’t the only one confused by that. “I thought you wanted me to carry building supplies?”

He shook his head. “Change of plans. I got some other guys who’re doing that.”

And, okay, maybe that made sense. But wouldn’t Wrecker’s strength be more useful helping with the rebuilding work instead of sitting around catching fish? He opened his mouth to ask why and was rewarded with a sharp elbow in his left side. Right, Crosshair had a point there, it would be stupid to get himself hurt worse when he was being given a way out.

About half an hour later, Wrecker sat by the sea, holding his fishing rod steady. As the minutes passed, he could feel the pain in his back lessen as his feeling of relaxation grew.

He looked across as Shep moved the bucket of fish backwards, before taking its place beside him.

“Looks like you’ve been doing good work,” he commented.

“I guess.”

“We’re repairing Nixret’s house,” Shep continued, as they both stared across the ocean. “Nix is old, he can’t see, he can barely walk anymore, he relies on the kindness of his neighbours to help him out everyday. But he’s one of the most interesting people I know. Do you think I don’t care about him because he can’t get around by himself?”

“No,” Wrecker replied, brow crinkling. It was obvious that Shep cared, he wouldn’t be organising all this if he didn’t. Then his brow creased further. “Omega told you what we talked about, didn’t she?”

Shep nodded, and Wrecker found himself tensing in a way that sent shocks of pain across his shoulder blades.

“She did, and I’m glad she did. And you should be glad you’ve got such a good sister.” Out of the corner of his eye, Wrecker could see that Shep was smiling at him, eyes full of concern. “You are a part of this community now Wrecker. And that won’t change if you can’t lift heavy objects. I like you because you’re you, not because of what you can do for me. And I’ve been told to tell you Lyana likes you because she thinks you’re her funniest uncle.”

“Oh,” Wrecker said, staring down at the water. He didn’t know what to say. It would probably have been easier to come up with something to say if he’d even known what to think.

“I don’t know what you boys have been through exactly,” Shep continued. “But I know whatever it was, it can’t have been easy. Even so, I’d appreciate it if you told me in the future when helping me out would hurt you.”

Wrecker nodded, still feeling blank.

“Alright then. Shall we get these fish back to the others?”

This right here was easily much firmer ground. “Sounds good,” he replied, managing a smile.

As they walked together, back towards the house his brothers were working on, Wrecker found himself thinking about what Omega had said earlier, and what Shep had said just then. It didn’t feel true, not exactly, and he knew that he’d have to discuss it with Hunter and the others later. But even if it didn’t feel true, that didn’t mean that it wasn’t true.

Maybe, they could be safe here, even when they weren’t useful?

[justiceforfoxface]

i agree we need more sfw coriolanus fics

can i request a fic where corio and reader are acquaintances in university, until they slowly but surely become closer and closer

i just want to read your depiction of coriolanus and what he’d be like in uni 😍

ok a) amazing idea b) i did not know what format to put this in so it sounds weird to me but i hope it sounds okay to yall c) enjoy :)

*I DON’T HAVE A CREATIVE TITLE FOR THIS*

:) 

Coriolanus Snow x Reader

Warnings: none. no use of y/n. this is sfw because were severely lacking in coryo fluff.

tried to keep coryo mostly canon here but i hope you like it :)

……..

Coriolanus Snow.

Everyone knew of him.

No one knew about him-or, that is to say, what he was really like. Just that he studied under Dr. Gaul herself and didn’t have any friends.

You had worked together once before, and you walked the same route to school. Every day, you would acknowledge each other, with just a nod, and that would be it. 

It probably seemed like just another thing to cross off on his daily to-do list to him, but to you, it was genuinely nice. You didn’t have many friends either, so even though he was acknowledging you out of pure manners and no actual friendliness, it made you feel a little happier.

One day, you got to University for breakfast like you did any time they served it. It didn’t taste good, but it was edible and filling, which was all that mattered to most students of the University when they had to get up early and clean themselves up to attend school.

You got yourself some food and then sat at a table, prepared to people-watch like you always did. Not in a creepy, stalkerish way. Just in a way that, if you had a camera and a permit, would be completely normal.

And your first people-watching subject, like it was most of the time, was none other than Coriolanus Snow himself.

He ate alone at the opposite corner of the room, his eyes never leaving his meal. He was the only student that didn’t have some sort of constant gossip about them, and yet he interested you the most because of that very reason. 

And then, his piercing blue eyes looked up and went directly to you, catching you in the act of staring at him and startling you. When he looked at you, you tensed up. You weren’t quite sure what you were bracing yourself for, but it couldn’t be good.

Instead, he just looked back down at his meal and continued to eat as if nothing had ever happened. 

Strange.

Your eyes traveled over the crowd of University students to move on to watching Lysistrata Vickers.

………

You get your breakfast the next day at the University like any other day, only to find Coriolanus Snow sitting at your table, directly across from where you normally would sit.

You consider walking over to his normal table and sitting there, but your curiosity overcomes you and you sit across from him. You eat in silence for a minute or two before he speaks.

“You were watching me yesterday.”

There was no point in denying it. “I was.”

“Why?”

There was no point in lying, either, not really. “Because I was interested. As to why you don’t have any friends, and why you sit alone every day.”

Coriolanus goes silent, and you begin to wonder if you’ve said something wrong. But then, he stabs at his meal with his fork and says, “I’m sitting here right now, aren’t I?”

You don’t know how to respond to that, and you doubt he’d take kindly to you saying, “That doesn’t count,” so instead, you stay quiet.

And it’s the best breakfast you’ve had since you began university.

…..

This becomes part of your daily routine as well. You and Coriolanus walked to school together, and sat and ate breakfast together in silence. No one else noticed the change, or they just didn’t ask about it. Sometimes, you would greet Coriolanus, or ask how his day was going, but you wouldn’t get long responses. He didn’t seem one for small talk.

You were one for small talk, but you could respect that he wasn’t. 

He spoke to you sometimes in class, as he did to other students. If he disagreed with anyone-or agreed-everyone would know it.

One day, after class, your things fall on the floor, and as you pick them up, Lysistrata approaches you, hands your book to you, and says, “I don’t know what you did, but it’s working.”

“What?” you say, very confused.

“Coriolanus.” Lysistrata explains. “Haven’t you noticed? He eats with you. He actually talks to you, and it’s not just to call you a failure. I think he likes you.”

“That doesn’t mean he likes me, it means he tolerates me.”

Lysistrata raises her eyebrow. “With Coriolanus, tolerating you is just him expressing his love for you. Trust me.” Her voice changes slightly. “I’ve seen it.”

You weren’t a mentor, but you remember once hearing that Coriolanus had some sort of something with his tribute last year. Lucy Gray Baird. From Twelve. 

You decided to ignore Lysistrata and ask Coriolanus about it the next day. She was joking, right? Or perhaps she was serious and just very wrong. Coriolanus didn’t love you.

Although, if he did-you wouldn’t turn him down.

……

The next morning, you build up your confidence on the walk to the University. The silence seems more awkward than peaceful.

When you get to breakfast and sit down comfortably, you slowly begin with, “You know, yesterday, Lysistrata was talking to me.”

“Hmm?” Coriolanus said. He was uninterested, which was clear as he took a bite of his food and largely ignored what you were saying.

You pressed on. “She said something…strange. About..you.”

That got his attention. His eyes went straight to yours, and you felt heat rise in your cheeks. 

Why couldn’t his eyes be brown or something?

“What’d she say?” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin and putting his fork down.

“She said…” You started losing all your confidence as his eyes read your soul. “She said she thought that you, um, loved me.”

There was no reaction on his face. “What did you say to her?”

“I said I thought she was lying.”

You cleared your throat, already drying up from nerves. “Was she?”

“What do you think?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

You became slightly irritated, even though you knew it was never good to be irritated at Coriolanus Snow. “I just said I thought she was lying, was she?”

A small smirk curved up the edge of his lips as he put another forkful of food to his mouth. “Yes.”

Your smile was pasted on your face on the outside, but on the inside, your face fell. You really thought you had something. That maybe you could’ve gotten the elusive Coriolanus Snow to show emotions. But maybe it was just a stupid idea.

“Right.” You whispered this, trying not to let your voice crack.

Why am I crying? Don’t cry. It’s a little thing. Don’t let it get to you.

You felt a surprisingly warm hand on your face, and you saw Coriolanus gently wiping a tear off of your cheek. 

“Don’t cry,” he said with a surprising gentleness. 

“Sorry,” you said, nodding and yet trying not to shake his hand off of your face. It was a nice, warm touch. “It’s a-it’s a stupid thing to cry about, I know.”

“Love’s not stupid.” Coriolanus said it almost angrily, and yet the anger was not directed at you. “Trust me, it’s not. It’s not stupid, but it does make you do…stupid things.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” You were praying that the next words he said were, Like saying you don’t love someone when you really do, but instead he just said, “…lots of things.”

…

Your daily routine stayed mostly the same. Except you talked during breakfast. About what? Everything. Some days, political conversations that bored you to death and made the spark in his eyes light up more than anything. And some days, conversations about the most random things that made both of you laugh.

Coriolanus’s laugh was what made you understand why people found rare things so precious. It was hard to get him to laugh, but you tried as much as you could every day, and relished in the little burst of happiness you got every time his small smile expanded and his eyes lit up.

You began to think he had maybe been lying about not loving you-but you tried not to think about it often, just in case you jinxed it.

But…he wouldn’t move away if your elbows or knees brushed against each other. With each passing day, he seemed more interested in what you had to say. 

And sometimes, when you walked to school together, your hands would brush, and he’d wrap his hand around yours, your hand disappearing in his, your fingers intertwined.

He’d always let go when you got close to the university, leaving your hand warm.

But you hoped one day he would walk up the stairs still holding your hand, or maybe even all the way to breakfast, and he’d sit next to you instead of across from you. 

It would happen someday, you hoped. But you knew Coriolanus wasn’t going to do that for just anybody. And even though you hoped you were more than just anybody to him, you were willing to be patient.

Word Count: 1,494

[vibratingskull]

Hey! :) saw you were taking requests and I got one for you. 👀

Thrawn's Jedi wife (she/her) takes herself and Thrawn away from Lothal (like Ezra does) with the help from Purgils. They're both stranded alone together, they talk about a lot of things and they make love and just decide to start a family together during the 10+ years. 👀👀

Thrawnxf!reader

You turn off your lightsaber and wince in pain.

Your baby just gave you a new kick in your stomach. You caress your tummy tenderly, sighing dreamily, they are already so strong! You regret that the Chimaera isn't equipped for pregnant women, it would make things easier.

But you have the Force to guide you. So it will be okay.

You didn’t tell it to Thrawn yet but the Force whispered to you they are twins. You go sit on the bench of the dojo to wipe your sweat off with a towel. Exercising with a pregnant belly truly is something else! But you don’t want to lose your touch so you grit your teeth and continue to train.

“I was sure you would be here, cha’cah.” Thrawn voice raises next to you.

You look up to him and smile tiredly.

“Do not overwork yourself.” He gently chides, sitting next to you. “We do not have the equipment in case something goes wrong.”

“I know, dear. But I know what I’m doing, do not worry.” you soothe him, wiping your face.

“I trust you. I am simply encouraging you to be more attentive to details.” He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Everything is okay! They even gave me a kick!.”

His gaze lowers to your swollen tummy and presses his warm palm on it. The babies give another hit and his smile grows larger. You look at him with love pouring out of your eyes.

“They already so full of energy…” He mutters almost to himself.

“Yes.” you smile blissfully. “They are like you, I can feel it.”

“I hope they are more like you, it would be best for them.” He counters.

“No, why? I want an army of little clone of you! That would be adorable.” You nudge him.

“It would be absolute chaos, cha’cah.” He leans forward and kisses your stomach reverently.

“Yurk. Are you doing your disgusting adult things?” a little voice makes you both jump of your skins.

At the door of the dojo your daughter looks at you, pouting, disgusted by this physical demonstration of affection. She pinches her nose, sticking her tongue out.

“Well, hello to you too, miss.” you gently mock.

The little girl took so much from her father, blue skin, red eyes and regal features but her hairs are unmistakably yours.

“Can I play with your lightsaber, mom?”

“Absolutely not, miss.”

“Pleaaaaaaase…” She pleads, joining her two hand in prayer.

“Your mother told you no.” Thrawn intervene, “But I can train with you if you want.”

She looks at him with a deeply focused expression.

“Alright!” She exclaims joyfully.

Thrawn get rids of his white jacket and seizes a staff on the wall, joining her on the tatami. You cross your legs in a meditative position and stretch your back. You terribly need a back massage…

You make your spine pop as your husband and daughter exchange staff hits, circling each other in the dojo. Since you ended up on this wretched planet thanks to Bridger, training became a survival essential, even for the kids of the Chimaera.

You’re not the only couple that started a family, quite a number of stormtroopers and officers got together and babies started to pop up everywhere. Not enough to fill a class, around ten little ones started roaming around the corridors of the Chimaera. Thrawn wasn’t too sure about that but you only felt relief, knowing your baby daughter would not be alone, you know the presence of fellow kids is so important for a child brain’s formation. You made him the remark that it was pretty hypocritical of him to deny his troop the right of a family while starting his own. He recognized it and since accepted the situation. 

It is so new to you all, this mess of a situation forced everyone to adopt new roles and take on new responsibilities. As the highest authority Thrawn had to marry people and conduct ceremonies. It is not his field of expertise, not at all! His place is in the battle room, strategizing campaigns, not direct weddings… But he stepped up and accepted his new role. You remember him coming to you to help him for a speech, completely lost and on the verge of panic. Everything went well in the end, the ceremony was short but really touching, after the disaster the troops needed good news for morale, weddings and birth were perfect!

But you know what they really crave is Bridger’s demise and returning to the Empire…

It’s been 6 years already…

You never spoke about it with Thrawn, but you helped Ezra escape the Chimaera when you crashed on Peridea. A last nice gesture between jedis. You warned him next time you would cross paths as enemies, he nodded and disappeared into the night.

In your heart you know Thrawn is aware of that.

But he never confronted you or punished you.

Simply remained silent and started the hunt.

Because he knew you already had enough on your plate on your own. Making his troops accept a jedi as his fiance was hard enough as it was.

You’ve never been too popular on the Chimaera, and still are now. You are only tolerated.

You accepted it.

“Look mom! I hit him!” Your daughter shouts excitedly.

“My! Congrats, dear.” You applaud.

She throws herself at him with the ardor of youth and naivety, and Thrawn seizes her by the hips to throw her on his shoulder. She cries, indignant, but he only chuckles. You laugh with him at this charming display.

“Not fair! Put me down, dad!”

“No. You should not have plough forward without thinking.” He spins on himself.

“Haaaaaaa! Mom! Help!”

“You should have thought about it further, sweetie.” you laugh.

She screams as he spins, threatening to puke on him. He pulls her in his arms and throws her in the air. Your eyes follow her as she flies in the room before getting caught by her father. He launch her again and you catch her in the air with the Force.

“Alright, that’s enough I think.” You let her come down on the ground gently. She’s completely disheveled now.

“That was not fair, dad!” she complains again.

“May this be your lesson. Think before throwing yourself to an adversary.” He counters.

She walks wobbly to the bench and sits next to you, your circle her shoulders with your arm and press her against your form.

“It is for your good, sweety. There is danger outside of the Chimaera.” you explain.

“I know.” She growls, slicking her hair back. “I know, mom…”

Thrawn sits next to her, sandwiching her between you two.

“It will also be your role to protect your little brother or sister, you have to be ready.”

She looks up to him perplexed.

“Enoch won’t protect us?”

“Captain Enoch may die, as will me and your mother. We are preparing you for the future, dear.”

She let herself fall against his shoulder.

“Alright, dad.”

“Good girl.” And he encircles both of you in his arms for a big hug like you love them so much.

@Bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar

@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss

[amberstormblade]

Part two of the Viking Piglin AU is here!! If the formatting is off, I apologize! I’m doing this on mobile in my work parking lot. Also, I’m pretending the second level of Grady’s tavern has bedrooms in it because I don’t actually know what’s there so it would make sense.

One last thing! Probably! If you haven’t already, go check out @arckiaym ‘s really cool art that they’ve made based on the concept of this AU! It’s super cool and amazing and I wish to absorb their talent because it’s just that great!

(Hope it’s okay that I tagged you arck, I can probably untag you if you want)

Part One

Legundo had never realized how small Viking was before. He was alway moving around, phasing through things, almost like he was incapable of standing still. But now, as he sat there, shaking in his arms, it was painfully obvious. His jacket hung so loosely off his frame that he was practically drowning in it. The blood that was dripping from his mouth and the pain and confusion painting his eyes didn’t help either.

Speaking of the blood, Joy came over with a damp cloth and started to wipe it away, being extra careful next to the new tusks that were poking from his mouth. They were so short still, it reminded him of the members of his bastion that were fresh from training. While they were technically adults, they were all still so young. Looking at Viking now, he’d fit right in with them. He could see his new tail twitching behind him, as he and Joy now worked together to try and clean his face off. It was obvious that he didn’t have full control over it and that it was bothering him a great deal.

Exhaustion rolled off of Viking in waves. It was clear that the transformation had taken a great deal of energy out of him and that if he wasn’t moved soon, Legundo would become his personal pillow. Viking looked lost in thought in spite of this. He hadn’t spoken much after the initial reveal of his coming back to life, most likely due to the shock of the situation.

“You could set him in my bed for now.” Joy suggested. “Unless you think it would be okay to use the waystones with him. Not quite sure how teleporting would affect the newly revived though.”

Viking jumped at the sudden noise, almost as if he had forgotten that he wasn’t alone. He was quick to cut off any response Legundo had, however. “I’ll be alright. I can just,” He grunts as he shifts to stand, it’s a slightly different noise than what he would have made before and he can’t hold back a flinch. “I can make my way back to my place and then just-” He’s cut off as his legs collapse under him, Joy and Legundo being the only things stopping him from bashing his head on the floor. They gently lower him back down so he can catch his breath.

“Yeah, no offense bud, but I know I’m not letting you out of my sight for a while. Joy probably isn’t either.” She nods in agreement. “You just went through something extremely traumatic to say the least and you’re probably going to need some help. Who knows what’s going to be different now!” Legundo shifted a bit, trying to keep a good grip on Viking. It was a little difficult with the height difference but he and Joy were making it work for now.

“What other differences could there possibly be?” Viking asked, sounding at least slightly in denial of this whole situation. “I mean, I’m fleshy again, sure. That’s going to make it a little more difficult to get in and out of my house but I’ll get by. The tail, also a difference but it’s literally attached to me so I figure I’ll-” As Viking started to ramble, Legs slipped a gold ingot out of his inventory and held it in his face. The younger instantly quieted, all interest now focused on the gold. His pupils dilated until his eyes were practically black and he started making little rumbling sounds. Legundo then put the ingot back in his inventory and Viking seemed to snap back to reality.

“Well you definitely have some new instincts to deal with!” Legundo said with a bit of a chuckle. After a second however, he grimaced slightly, almost speaking to himself. “I’m going to need to teach you about those, aren’t I?”

“Where’d the shiny go?!” Viking was almost distressed, still teetering on the edge of his sudden fixation. “Why did that happen? Why would gold of all things make me do, um, do whatever the heck that was!”

“I’ll explain it to you, don’t worry. Just need to think of a good way to do it.” Legs sighed. He then helped Viking stand again, making sure to go slow just in case.

The small group made their way over to the waystone while Joy and Legundo explained that the transformation seemed to have given him some piglin instincts as well as the obvious physical features. Legs had decided that the best thing for right now would be bringing him to spawn so he could rest until the meet up that was happening that evening. Then they would bring up this development with everyone else and figure out where to go from there. Joy decided to stay back for now as she wanted to start researching into what had happened further and make sure that Viking would be okay. It was only after they had arrived at spawn that Viking noticed something else.

“The sun!” He stared at the sky in awe, almost as if seeing it for the first time. “It-it feels… It feels amazing!”

“Oh yeah, it kind of just hurt you before, didn’t it?” asked Legs, who was still supporting most of his weight. “Not catching on fire must feel nice, huh?”

Viking let out a hum, eyes closed and seemingly soaking up the warmth that he had been missing out on for a long time. He seemed to sag into Legundo as exhaustion threatened to drag him down once more, only to jolt back awake as a strange rumbling sound seemed to come from him. Legs sighed and scooped him up so they could travel faster, deciding to explain yet another new trait along the way.

“Us piglins are capable of making a wide array of noises. That rumbling is something similar to a cat purring, it can mean different things depending on the situation. Sometimes it’s used to help calm others or you make it when you’re calm or content. Sometimes it’ll happen if piglin feel sick but that’s mostly in younger ones. Although, I’m not sure how that would work with you, considering the circumstances.” Viking was doing his best to listen but all he could manage was a small grunt to acknowledge that he’d even heard anything. “Don’t suppose you’re awake enough to point me to your place, are you?” When Viking didn’t respond Legundo just sighed. “All the action today really tired you out, huh. Guess we’ll see if there’s space for you to rest in the tavern, I’m sure Grady won’t mind.”

[victimeyez]

Happy Birthday 🎂🥳🎁 (I also have a September birthday so I think that’s neat)

I think overall, the thing about p/v that keeps me hooked is the intensity of the whump. I’ve read other whump stories before and while what the characters go through in them is horrible, I’ve yet to find another character that goes through the kind of stuff Tommy does. The man’s life is just brutal, and as a avid horror fan I find that deeply compelling. I want him to one day get his final girl moment, even though I read early on that it’s probably not gonna happen.

I think the two whump moments that stand out the most for me so far are the meat hooks and the use of Agent Orange. The meat hooks scene was such a intense body horror moment it almost made me think about quitting, but I also couldn’t get it out of my head. I had to know what was gonna happen next to this poor dude. By contrast, the Agent Orange bit had me thinking to myself, “whelp Tommy and Caius better pray that stuff wasn’t real, otherwise their both dying of cancer lol”

Anyways I’ve rambled on enough. I hope you enjoy your birthday and that you get to do something fun with the people you love. (Tommy sure won’t lol)

Thank you, and happy birthday to you too!!!

Ooh, where to start. A few years ago, I discovered a writer online that wrote the most brutal content I had ever read. To this day, she makes my writing here look quite tame. We bonded over a mutual fandom that was difficult to find content for. One thing led to another, and I ended up helping write and edit her first original book.

I’’d never had someone before that I could talk to about enjoying really twisted stories. I was always admonished for a blossoming interest in horror by my mom, who believes horror is the work of the devil. It is still hard for me to share darker ideas. I get nervous about being judged for going too far, being too much of a freak. 

A big part of what made me decide to write Pro Vic with the design it has is that I wanted to be able to explore lots of different whump scenarios, without things getting too stale of the same things over and over. I have fun with Caius, but I can also explore whatever other forms I want to with clients in my own version of a monster-of-the-week formatting lol. Plus I can throw in extra time with Sam, or Rory, or Michelle, orrrrr whatever! As for the meat hooks and agent orange - Once again, I am sorry, and you are welcome lol. Can I blame Dead by Daylight and weirdly specific Vietnam War nightmares?

I love me a final girl! I actually have a shirt that says FINAL BOY in bloody letters lol. 

I have a long game in mind. Tommy is going through it – that’s not going to stop any time soon. But without wanting to say too much - Tommy has a future ahead of him where he plays a very different role...👀

I cannot tell you how much it blows my mind that people are actually reading this. I’m grateful for the readership, the notes, the tags, everything, I read them all a thousand times and lay on my bed kicking my feet while I write about it in my diary. Okay maybe not literally that, but mentally that is where I am. Getting to be the random person that wrote something you find compelling is the greatest badge of honor in my life. That’s not a joke. Sharing my creative passions has been the one thing I have known I wanted since I was three years old. When I was sitting on the floor of the kitchen, banging pots and pans together for drums and screaming my best “opera”.

[munsonownsmyass]

Dream a little dream of me

Tristan Thorn x reader

Notes: This is my first time writing for Tristan. I hope I've done him justice. But when @itwasthereaminuteago sent the ask, I couldn't say no. Thank you for the ask, hun 💜

Warnings: None. Pure fluff, although there is very little spice sprinkled over it.

Days like these were your favorite. Nothing much to do, but you got to spend it with your favorite person in the whole world. Ever since childhood, you and Tristan had been inseparable, doing everything together. Even if it was something as simple as laying in the grassy fields together, watching the clouds drift by. There wasn’t always much to do in Wall, but you did quite enjoy watching the clouds, dreaming.

“Doesn’t those skies look like someone kissing?” Tristan points excitedly at another small cloud formation. You can easily see it, nodding in agreement.

“I do see it. Reminds me of a dream I had a few nights ago.” You smile at the memory, still remembering one of the best dreams you’ve ever had.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Tristan look at you with a wide grin. “I also had a dream like that, but I want to hear yours first.” Teasingly, he pokes at your side. “I want to know who can make you smile like that.”

You don’t even dare answer, cause how do you even tell your best friend that it was him you dreamt about? His mouth against yours in a passionate kiss. His hands exploring parts of your body you only want him to touch. Your skirt pushed up over your hips, Tristan’s fingers traveling up your inner thigh towards-

Shaking your head, you try to seem indifferent, knowing very well how red your face must be. “It’s nothing. Tell me about your dream instead.” You smile, doing your best to lie convincingly.

“If you insist.” He frowns a bit, probably not buying your poor excuse. But he doesn’t push it, just getting more comfortable in the tall grass as he looks up at the sky. “I dreamt I kissed you. It was at the harvest dance, and we’ve had too much ale. You asked me to dance and then… I kissed you.”

”You… dreamt about kissing me?” You can barely form the words, let alone believe them. For years, you’ve had a small hope that one day Tristan would realize that Victoria didn’t care about him. Not like you did. In fact, you had been hopelessly in love with him, but he never saw it because of her. But he dreamt about kissing you, so that must surely mean something. Right?

Tristan turns to you, a small nervous smile forming on his lips, those perfect pink lips you’ve dream about kissing more times than you could count. “Yeah, okay, so what if I dreamt about kissing you?” He shrugs, pushing up onto one elbow, looking down on you, one finger swirling around in the grass. “Don’t we all do that to our best friend?”

Just when you think he can’t get any more adorable, he has to look at you like that. His beautiful hazel eyes, so innocent, so oblivious to the desire he awakens in you.

“No, Tristan.”

“No? What do you mean ’no’?” He smiles nervously, swallowing hard as you look deeply into his eyes, wondering if you should just give hell to it all and finally kiss him. There’s nothing you want more, but you’re afraid he’ll never look at you that way again. But wouldn’t you rather know now if he feels the same, than spend more years wondering?

“I mean… I’ve never dreamt about kissing Clara. Or Yvette. But…” You look away, just for a moment, trying to settle your nerves. Here goes nothing. “I’ve dreamt about kissing you too, Tristan. But not-”

You pause, feeling like you’re on fire under his gaze. Tristan gently takes your hand, the warmth of it bringing your gaze back to his. “Not what?”

“B-but not as a friend.” You breathe out, looking into his eyes as his mouth drops open. He just stares at you, unable to form any words. Maybe he’s shocked, maybe he just doesn’t know how to tell you he doesn’t feel the same. But before he can regain his thoughts, your hand flies up to cup his cheek gently. “I think… I know… that I’m in love with you.”

When he still doesn’t answer, you fear you blew it all. But all you can think about is blurting it all out, getting it all on the table.

“You don’t have to say anything. Or even feel the same way. I know you’ve always been in love with Victoria, but she really isn’t good for you.” You ramble, unable to stop again, too mortified in yourself to even look at Tristan. “You deserve someone good. Someone who loves you. Not someone who just-”

His lips on yours stop you. It must be a dream, but it’s not. Tristan is hovering over you ever so slightly, one hand cupping your cheek so gently almost as if he fears you might break. His hazel eyes find yours and in that moment, it is as if time stands still.

“Truth is” He finally speaks, smiling nervously as he tries to find the right words. “It’s always been you. For as long as I can remember, it was you in my dreams.”

“But… Victoria?”

“Let’s be honest. Your father has never been fond of me, knowing you deserved better. And…” He pauses, stopping you gently when you move to make a rebuttal. “I always knew you were too good for this place. That you’d leave Wall one day. You’re destined for more and I won’t be the reason that-”

This time is you stopping his ramble with a kiss. This one deeper and more passionate than the first. Timidly, his hand moved to your waist pulling you a little closer. It’s not much, but the feeling of his body against yours make you feel on fire, every part of you screaming for more. Just as you move to deepen the kiss, Tristan pulls away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Trust me, love, there’s nothing I want more than…” He stops, grinning from ear to ear. “But I won’t give your father another reason to dislike me. Let’s do this right. I… I wanna court you. Properly. If you’ll have me.”

With tears swelling in your eyes, you giggle, still unable to believe this isn’t a dream. “There’s nothing I want more.” Peppering him with soft kisses to his cheeks and lips, you feel happier than you’ve felt your whole life. Sometimes dreams do come true.

TFC girls: @mindidjarin @e-dubbc11 @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @pedrito-friskito @saintmurd0ck @mattmurdocksscars @thisishellfire

Tagging: @lucy-sky @missbeewrites

[sighs-deeply-and-dreadfully]

Hello! I don't know how this works, but anyways, I wanna make a request n.n

Can you do any character you like X neighbor who's sensitive to loud sounds?

If you don't want to feel free to ignore xD Thanks!

No worries at all, thanks for requesting!! <3 /p

I’ll just do this with Wally since I’m itching to write for him rn :] if you’d like to see a specific character later on feel free to re-ask!! /nf

Catastrophic Cacophony

Wally x GN!Reader Who’s Sensitive to Loud Sounds!

Headcanon format (.. Drabble length. I am a fool.. /lhj) , relation can be interpreted by reader!

As long as you could remember, loud noises got to you. Whether they startled you, or however you reacted, they got to you. It’s just how you were, which is perfectly okay! But to say it didn’t pose an issue sometimes would be.. difficult.

From a particularly loud laugh from a friend, or a screechy microphone at an assembly, to concerts, to movie theatres— loud was everywhere. It could be mediated with headphones, of course, but it was still everywhere. So when you moved into the quaint, sleepy neighbourhood? It was quite relieving!

Sure, the denizens would sometimes get a bit rowdy and loud— but they all seemed to understand if you withdrew, or needed a break— which was very relieving! Besides, they weren’t too loud— nothing going inside your quaint little home couldn’t remedy!

Today was one of those days. The sounds had piled up, and it somewhat felt like everything kept getting louder. Sure, you could maybe brush off the occasional screech— even if it rustled your jimmies a bit (/j), but today? Far too much, far too fast.. So off you took! Bidding the others farewell, you’d take off— taking to idly strolling around the town, today!

As you took a moment to breathe in the newfound silence, settling on one of the rickety, brightly coloured benches of the town— you’d soon hear a small creak from its backrest. This was soon followed by a familiar voice, slow and quiet.

“Helloo.”

It was none other than Wally. His impeccably quiet walking had gotten the better of your senses today— ignoring the fact you.. weren’t actually too sure where he showed up from!

Peeking up, you’d give a brief smile and a hushed greeting before looking away from his unwavering gaze. Slightly intimidating, but by now you knew he meant no harm!

“Do you mind.. if I join you, neighbour?”

You glance over again, immediately meeting his gaze again, and give a small nod. Soon, he’d settle on the bench beside you.

Over time, you had noticed that he seemed to notice your issues— though it wasn’t like you tried to really hide them all too much, anyhow. You noticed as, when he was alone with you, he seemed to make an extra effort to not be loud— which wasn’t too hard for the puppet, anyhow, but I digress.

His voice wouldn’t raise much further beyond his normal talking voice, and his tone would stay steady— never skipping up too high. He wasn’t really sure if pitch got to you, too, but better safe than sorry! Not like he minded to speak somewhat flatly, anyhow— it was already how he spoke, to an extent!

Seemingly, though, he had just followed you out here for your company. He didn’t mind comfortable silence, and he surely hoped you didn’t, too.

Even if that silence was.. a smiiidge less comfortable due to the fact, unless he got momentarily distracted, he was just.. kinda staring at you, idly. Why, he’s an artist, he can’t help but to observe (/j)!

But, with that, you two would just.. sit. Maybe you’d chat a bit, when you had calmed down— he’d let you lead when that conversation would start. But until then? He was perfectly happy to sit in silence with you. Especially on such a nice day!

Hihi!! So sorry if that wasn’t great <:] I wasn’t too sure what to do with the prompt— but I hope the way I took it was satisfactory either way!! Thank you again for requesting!!

I also kinda,, maybe a smidge based this off of my own sensitive hearing HAHA — but I’m hoping I didn’t make it too specific! Tried to make it able to apply to a majority :]

… if you saw me post this early on accident because my finger slipped; nuh uh, no you didn’t /lhj HAHA

[moriartyluver]

Hello dear! It's always refreshing to discover blogs which give William the love he deserves 😌

I'd like to request a William x f!reader oneshot, where reader has been repressing her femininity since she was a child and supposedly hates anything feminine, but, one day William accidentally discovers her in front of the bathroom mirror, putting on red lipstick.

Reader is very embarrassed about it, but William comforts her and tells her it's alright to express her femininity

(hope this made sense)

Thank you and good luck with your exams! 🥰🥰🥰

A/N: this is a super cute idea and honestly hits quite close to home :) I’ll make sure to do it justice and thank you <3

Character: William James Moriarty x Fem! Reader

Genre: fluff, mild angst at the beginning

Prompt: when William sees his lover putting on lipstick after years of repressing her feminine side

Format: Oneshot

Warnings: Reader is explicitly female, established relationship but no mentions of which stage, misogyny

William had just finished off marking some of his papers that his students had done earlier that day and although he was one to feel guilty that he wasn’t working on his breaks, he decided to go look for you, hoping you were free to have tea with him and read some books together.

He checked the garden, the lounge and the library, asking around for where you may have been. He eventually checked in your shared bedroom, opening the door quietly and planning to surprise you with a hug from behind.

The door had creaked open and your concentration had broken. You hid the lipstick in the drawers of the vanity in your en-suite bathroom and peaked out of the door which was wide open. Your blonde lover was stood there, looking at you, or more specifically your lips.

William was surprised for once, and it took a lot to surprise a man like him. He stood there, unable to hold back the small smile forming on his perfect face while you rubbed furiously at the red pigment on your lips.

It was known by everyone around you that you hated- no- despised anything feminine and girly, so seeing you putting on red lipstick with the most concentrated face in the vanity mirror was…shocking..

Growing up, your parents were constantly reminding you of ways to be more ladylike. Amongst your peers, you were seen as boyish.

As you grew into a teenager, your mother enrolled you in extra etiquette lessons. Yet no matter how much you walked around with books on your head, which you would much rather read instead, or how much your tutor told you which fork you were meant to be using, you still remained true to your ways.

To you, femininity in the era you lived in was a sign of oppression.

“Ladies can’t work. They must get married and take care of children.”

“Women cant go to university. They aren’t smart enough.”

“Young girls mustn’t wear trousers. They’re too revealing. You can see an outline of their ankles.”

You defied against all of these rules of course. When you weren’t meant to be at social gatherings and were in the privacy of your own home, you wore trousers. You studied with William. You didn’t want children.

Keeping this image up, whenever you wanted to do something girly, it would be out of character. It wasn’t to say that the sexist old men were right but more that femininity itself was okay. It’s just the way it was utilised against women that wasn’t okay. This meant you suppressed your feminine side to the point it was probably killing you.

“William- what are you doing in here…?!” You stuttered

“This is our shared bedroom, love. I was looking for you. Didn’t expect to see you putting on lipstick of all things.” He teased

“I…Sorry I just wanted to see how it looked-“ you buried your face in your hands, ignoring the sound of footsteps approaching you.

“You mustn’t apologise, dear” a pale hand lifted your face up and the other wrapped itself around your waist. He placed a soft kiss on your temple and stroked through your hair with care.

You didn’t know what to say. Nobody had ever held you like William did. Nobody had ever comforted you like William did. Especially not like now. What did you ever do to get so lucky?

“Feminine or masculine..it doesn’t matter to me, my Angel.” He whispered in your ear “It shouldn’t matter to you at all. You’re perfect whenever…it’s a shame you can’t see that. I wish you could see what I see.”

Tears had started brimming in your eyes. Your lover had began peppering your face with kisses in a successful attempt to comfort you.

Nobody could ever love you like William did.

[psybe4m]

So, Surf and Turf Wars pt. 2 just dropped, and I’d like to do a mini-review again, just like I did for the first part.

I try to be as unbiased as possible when it comes to reviewing these, as I don’t want to have an “old good, new bad” mindset. I like legacy, and it’s quite different from the classic era. So I try to give everything a fair chance.

and now for the actual review:

_

5.5/10

Yeah, once again, like my first review…it’s just alright. The whole “lobster monster Matt” wasn’t really to my taste comedy-wise. The whole “big monster does big monster stuff” isn’t really funny to me.

And I feel like this eddisode suffered from separating the guys. I feel like the way Tom and Edd are written in beyond isn’t entertaining enough to carry long scenes where it’s just them. (Which *might* be kind of controversial? Maybe. Because I know a lot of people liked their scenes together in part 1.) But, even so, the two of them are sidelined HARD in this and I’m not even sure why.

Also…I’m not a fan of how many jokes are relegated to random one-off characters. Like, I’m here for the guys. Not randoms. And yes, I know that both past eras of eddsworld had jokes with one-off characters. But they were using pretty sparingly, and never felt like it took away from the comedy.

Not to mention that both of the ongoing plots: the Matt plot, and the Tom and Edd plot…were both a bit stale. Both plots didn’t really end in any satisfying way. It’s was pretty anticlimactic. If it were up to me, I would’ve just had Matt be with Edd and Tom on the beach doing the competitions. The eddsworld guys work great when they’re all together. Plus…lobster Matt doesn’t even interact with Edd and Tom?? What’s the point then?

And all the jokes were very…meh. I’m just gonna accept at this point that Matt’s writing style isn’t my cup of tea.

OKAY. I know I just tore into this eddisode pretty harshly, but there are some nice positives and improvements that I noticed.

-Better pacing. The first part, imo, had really strange and awkward pacing. Like it was so sluggish at points, but also moved too fast sometimes. But that’s been remedied somewhat in the second part, and I like that.

-Less awkward: By “less awkward”, I mean there’s more music. Something thats bugged me about the beyond eps is that they felt awkward and quiet due to lack of music. But there’s more music now, yay.

-Montage. I liked the montage scene. Very eddsworld.

-Sonic popsicle on the ice cream truck. Because I’m massive sonic trash.

-

SO…yeah. That’s the review. Sorry if this is formatted shittily, I did it on my phone in a hurry, lol. And if you happen to have different opinions on this eddisode, totally cool.

Kinda sucks that pretty much all of beyond hasn’t been what I’d hoped. Everyone else is enjoying it though, and I can’t help but feel like squidward looking out the window in that one meme. 😭 I wanna like it so bad, but I just can’t. Beaster bunny, and the surf and turf pt. 1 and 2 have both just been misses for me.

…Also, Matt doesn’t like icecream. What’s up with that?

[kolsmikaelson]

hey guys!! it's been a long few months that i've been gone (i can’t remember when exactly i started being inactive but that’s not the point) and i've been missing this hellsite so much in the time that i’ve been gone. there wasn’t ever really a reason for me going ia all of the sudden but what i do know is that my mental state definitely needed a longer break from here, and while i'm still not in the best place mentally i still wanted to hop back on here and give a bit of an update on my life and my blog and try to be a bit more active like i used to be.

writing and the future of this blog —

as i mentioned before, i haven't been in the best mental state lately but i’ve decided i want to try and come back here and start writing again! i love writing and i think getting back into it and getting into the groove of things here would help me out some. now with that being said, i’ll be going through who i write for and updating things, unfortunately this also means a new taglist most likely but if you’d rather i have a writing sideblog where i reblog all of my fics so if that’s more your thing go ahead and follow it @rodrickhefley !! i’ll still be writing for and posting about hockey so don’t worry about that, but i also want to try writing for other things (such as ted lasso, star wars, scream, avatar, hotd, etc.)  i have a few things up my sleeve at the moment but none are quite ready to see the light of day unfortunately. i’m hoping to gain some new, active mutuals from this as well :). i’m gonna be trying out some different formats for my fics so when there’s inconsistencies please ignore that! i’ll also be doing some social media aus / insta posts again!! with all of this being said, i've decided to either post all of the requests that are currently sitting in my inbox so that another writer can take over and write it or delete them all. i may or may not keep a few depending on if i feel inspired by them or not but we’ll see what i decide:) (poll maybe??)

personal life — 

my life has been an absolute rollercoaster of events since about mid april i’d say? ever since then i’ve been so incredibly busy and haven’t had a moment of peace honestly but now that i’ve got more time i’m back!!! i turned eighteen back in july, woohoo!! so i’ve been trying to figure out how to navigate life as a real adult now. it’s been going somewhat okay, i’m not in college at the moment (won’t dive too deep into this bc it’s so scary but i’ll have plenty of time to write fics so ;) ). part of my absence here was caused by the fact that i started getting really active on twitter, where i went through so much shit but also made a pretty good friend group!! a few days back i took a trip and saw arctic monkeys in concert (i had tickets for over a year and it was well worth it) . it was such a fantastic show!!! i’ve not got much of an update other than that so if you enjoyed my rambling and made it this far thank you sm. i’ve missed it here <3. 

also, not sure when this happened but thank you all sm for 1.8k followers?? that’s so crazy to me but it means so much <33

since i'm not sure which of my moots are active anymore i’ll just tag who i can think of off the top of my head — @ilyasorokinn @2manytabsopen @ang3lik @angryblondechick @boqvistsbabe @timstuetzle @lavenderacademia @conniesanchor @stfukie @sunshinefarabees @hockstuff @typical-simplelove @dmonchld + i know i'm probably missing so many people but it's been so long i don't remember everybodys usernames anymore

[orchestrated-serirei]

SeriRei Week Day 3: Love Languages (900 words)

Decided to change it up for today and write about them instead!

(I don't typically write and post it so I hope this formatting is okay lol and it's 4:27am sorry for any grammar or tense inconsistencies)

Reigen: Words of affirmation/acts of service

Serizawa: physical touch/quality time

Hope y'all like it~

Anyone that’s been around Reigen for any period of time will know that the man has quite a way with his words. Most of the time, he can talk his way out of any situation– which is a handy skill to have when dealing with all sorts of people in and out of the office. What actual psychic power he was lacking in, was made up for by the power his of words. 

A part of Reigen was grateful that he could be eloquent when he needed to be, but he knew more than anyone else that his words could and did cause harm to the people he cares about. This was a side of himself that Reigen hated, but being completely transparent with his feelings and being genuine through words is something that doesn’t come naturally to him. 

Reigen does his best not to hide behind his words as much as he’s gotten used to doing– but he finds that it’s easier for him to show someone that he cares for them by showing up and supporting them from behind. 

Before Reigen and Serizawa officially got together, they had spent several nights having conversations over drinks and ramen. After one too many lemon sours one night, their topic of discussion eventually devolved into Reigen briefly opening up to Serizawa about how he hated the side of himself that found it difficult to be honest and how he hurt Mob in the past. 

Ever since Serizawa started working at Spirits & Such, he had observed that Reigen wasn’t always the most truthful. He could also only recall at least one other time where Reigen unexpectedly confided in him, so hearing him do it again really caught Serizawa off guard.

Just as Reigen was about to move on after taking another swig of his drink, Serizawa piped up.

“Reigen, I know it’s not always easy for you, but I can see that you’re doing your best to change.”

He paused and stared at his drink before continuing. 

“Even if it doesn’t always work out, I know that you have the best intentions in mind, especially for the people you care about. I’m sure that Shigeo-kun can see that as well.” 

Serizawa finally breaks away from staring at his drink to finally turn to Reigen– who was now extremely teary-eyed and doing his absolute best to hold it all in. 

Maybe it was the lemon sours, or Serizawa’s genuine words of reassurance, or maybe it was both that got Reigen choked up; but whichever one it was, Reigen learned that it actually felt really nice to hear that he was doing something right.

— — — — — — — — — —

It had been about 5 months since Reigen and Serizawa started dating each other. Despite their hectic schedules, the pair made it a point to set aside time every weekend to spend at least a day or a couple of hours together uninterrupted. 

During this particular weekend, the couple decided to try out a new co-op game that had been released the day before. Reigen wasn’t much of a gamer in comparison to his partner, but he knew how much trying this game out together meant for Serizawa, so he gladly agreed to it. 

On the way home with the game in tow, Serizawa passed by a burger place that had recently just opened up. He figured it would be a perfect surprise for Reigen tonight, especially since he had mentioned wanting to try it out a few days prior. 

Eventually 6 pm rolls around.

“Taka should be here any minute.” Serizawa mutters to himself. 

As if right on cue, Reigen rings the buzzer to Serizawa’s unit. 

After greeting each other with an embrace and a short but sweet kiss, Serizawa invites Reigen to sit down on the couch. “Before we start anything, I figured you’d be hungry so I got you something.” 

Serizawa pulls out the bag filled with the burger and fries from behind his kitchen countertop. In an instant Reigen beams, gasping loudly and practically bolting over to where Serizawa was standing. “Tsuya! OH MY GOD YOU REMEMBERED.”  Reigen wraps his arms around his boyfriend before thanking him verbally and with another kiss. 

Once dinner had been consumed, they made their way back to the couch to start the game. A few minutes into playing, Reigen took the chance to snuggle into Serizawa’s side even more, resting his head in between Serizawa’s neck and shoulders. 

In turn, Serizawa pauses the game and re-adjusts himself and Reigen. He wraps an arm around Reigen and pulls him in even closer, fully enjoying the warmth between them. Serizawa then plants a kiss on Reigen’s temple and smiles at his partner warmly. “You make me feel so loved, thank you for everything.” 

Reigen’s face immediately flushes and for a moment, he is at a loss for words. Serizawa has been the only one so far to make Reigen forget how to talk at times with his sincerity– not that Reigen’s complaining. 

He regains composure and manages to respond. “I feel the same way, thanks Tsuya.” 

He smiles back at Serizawa, who’s internally melting at the sight of his boyfriend still getting flustered even after all this time.

“So how ‘bout that game? I wanna see what they’ve got in store for us. I was starting to get invested.” 

Serizawa lets out a small chuckle. “Alright, alright I’ll unpause now.”  

[ciaossu-imagines]

Finally responding to your messages. Sorry that they’re so late, just wasn’t able to gather the energy until now. Yes to you loving wikis because I do as well. Like it’s amazing that those people can always nicely summarise the chapters or episodes of the series since summaries are something I’ll always struggle with and they’re really handy when it comes down to needing a bit of info for my stories as well. And that makes sense. Thanks for saying that 😊 Yeah. Like it makes no sense and it will forever wonder why they decided to make that arc since yeah, like I said, the other ones are pretty decent. There is one mini-arc though, before The Key of The Starry Heavens arc, that I also didn’t rewatch because it’s for me just a bit too weird but yeah, the characters that appeared in that arc appear in the Starry Heavens one as well so if you also don’t want to watch those episodes, I definitely recommend reading those summaries so you’ve got all the context. But it is nice to hear that you’ve found some good fan fics that do succeed at doing it 😊 No problem 😄 Yeah. I have all these ideas of how many messages it might be and it’ll be nice to see which idea’s the closest 😅 I see. I don’t blame you. And that does sound so horrible and indeed out of character since all of their actions always just seem so real so it wouldn’t make sense. I’m currently at chapter 230 and nothing to do with what you said has happened so if it is true, it’ll probably also be quite late into the story with no good / long build up. But yeah, I’m seriously hoping that it isn’t because I don’t want that for Jyugo or any of the other characters involved (as in, for their characterisation).

I’m also going to answer your other admin chatter message here if that’s okay so they’re nicely together and I don’t have to send too separate ones. And of course it’s alright that it’s super-late since yeah, this message is really late and I never mind waiting. I see, that does suck. Though here’s to praising wiki editor yet again since every Haikyuu!! episodes has a manga-anime differences section that’s definitely useful. I really do hope that one of your websites / apps does get it because it’s really something that I’d love for you to read  at some point. It’s still a bit more than a hundred chapters and slightly over 400 if you want to read from the beginning but yeah, I hope that one day you’ll get the chance the read it because the arc after nationals is so good when it comes down to Hinata, but also nationals is so great when it comes down to Bokuto. Also I’ll forever love what he said before the match because it’s so funny in the way that he just confused everyone around and was so proud with what he said 😭 Can I send those images to you? He’s just adorable. But yeah well, after the Battle at the Garbage Dump of course and yeah, there’s another match besides Fukurōdani’s one that’s also really important so I’ll forever hope that you can read it for yourself one day. And yeah, I think you’ve been writing them pretty in character since I could always imagine the characters you wrote about in those scenarios.

C

Please, don’t feel at all bad for taking your time to reply! I’m the queen of super-late replies, as you well know and I fully accept that not only do people have lives outside of tumblr, but people can just have low energy, both mentally and physically, and just not feel up to responding right away and that is perfectly okay 😊 I really do think it’s really amazing how dedicated fans put in so, so much work into creating these wikis, doing the formatting, finding and making sure the information is correct and everything else that goes into creating a wiki. Which makes it a real shame when bots go in and destroy what used to be good wikis (*cough* KHR *cough*). I suck at summaries myself, but only because I bloat when writing. I couldn’t keep a summary short and concise, I know myself well enough to admit that. Of course! And yeah, most of the filler arcs in shows make no sense to me. I know it’s commonly done as a way to avoid catching up completely to a manga or to extend seasons of what they want to be big-name, super popular series, but in most cases, the filler arcs are generic, badly done, and nonsensical. That’s great to know, so thank you for giving me the heads up. If I get around to watching the Fairy Tail anime all the way through after reading it, I’ll try the mini-arc and if I don’t like it, I will probably just read the summaries. Honestly, there’s so much really amazing fanfic out there. I don’t think it’s really talked about or appreciated as much as it should be – that we have thousands and thousands of these amazing stories that fans have created for us, of so many different types and styles and genres, and it’s so incredibly easy, as of current day, to find a fic that scratches whatever itch you have. I have so much appreciation for the big name fandom writers, for the small little fandom writers who create these little hidden gems, for really all fanfic writers. I am proud to say I am finally caught up and have replied to everyone, including you. Now it’s just getting down to the task of clearing the inbox and building that queue that I need to get done and, as of writing this, that’s what I’m working hard on, when I’m not at my job! I’m really glad to hear that, as of the point you are at, nothing like that has happened. It makes me much less scared when it comes to doing the reread. Currently reading Iruma and One Piece now, then moving on to Saiyuki after I finish these last 50 chapters of Iruma (I read fast, thankfully), but Nanbaka is the next one after that.

I have no trouble at all with you grouping the messages together! It makes complete sense to me, honestly. And thank you for saying that, though I assure you that your message was not what I would consider late at all! I am with you in that hope, though like I said, once I finish all the series I can get for free, I might have to bit the bullet and pay the like, $10 a month for a month or two and use Shonen Jump’s manga reader to read Haikyuu!! and Demon Slayer both. It just sucks because, again, it limits me to only 100 chapters a day and if I’m seriously sitting down to read, I can easily do that and more. Of course you can send me those images and geek out about the scene! I like it when anyone does that with shared fandoms 😊 Thank you so much for saying that! That really means a lot to me and makes me very happy! I always worry and just want to do all these amazing characters justice!

[apparitionism]

Smoke

Here are some of the “Alarm” story outtakes I mentioned. I’m calling them “Smoke,” both because I can and because that’s all they are—evidence/traces of something, rather than the thing itself. I’ve tried to give a sense of where they were intended to fit, and why they didn’t... I do get explainy about process, but I hope it all at least suggests the shaping that (I think) is important for even a trifle such as “Alarm.” Format-wise, I’ve put my extratextual thinking in brackets, and I’ve left the “story” bits pretty rough. So without further ado...

Smoke

[In one of my stabs at the ending, the alarms went off not when Myka and Helena were on the elevator, but rather in the middle of the night, after they’d already sealed the deal:]

As Myka wrenched to consciousness, she recognized one element of the situation immediately: no smoke. Thus this was another malfunction, unless electricity, and walls... not quite as immediately, she registered another extremely salient element of the situation: she wasn’t alone. Rather than being able to revel in that astonishing new fact, she had to struggle to get out of bed and deal with the situation.

Helena sprang up as well—clearly disoriented for a moment—but then she too realized. She flung herself from the bed.

Myka: You aren’t wearing anything!

Helena: What does that have to do with smoke alarms!

Myka: I’m guessing that’s what set them off!

Helena: Flattery does not remove batteries! And you aren’t wearing anything either!

[I probably should apologize for being in love with the flattery/battery rhyme, but I have to admit I would totally have shoehorned it into the final version if I’d got the line itself right. Which I didn’t manage to do: what comes between “flattery” and “batteries” really ought to be another dactyl, and nothing I came up with worked at all in Helena’s voice. Anyway, after battery removal:]

Myka: Well, that was exhausting.

Helena: I thought you said I exhausted you earlier.

Of course, in response to the alarms, there came a banging on the door.

Helena moved as if she might be about to answer that door.

Myka: You don’t even have your dressing gown! Clothes—I have them! (This she said as she pulled on T-shirt and shorts, trying to ignore how inaccurate the term “clothes” was, given the inadequate coverage they provided.)

“I have them.” Helena said. She gestured vaguely around the bedroom, where it was true her clothes were. Most of them.

Myka: Okay, great. Put them on. You answering the door fully dressed at this time of night? What would that say about the masquerade?

Helena: Perhaps that we play particular roles at this time of night.

Myka: File that under ‘things I don’t want anybody thinking about me—or knowing, even it turns out to be true.’

That prompted a raised eyebrow from Helena, and how did Myka manage to notice that in the continued absence of clothes?

Myka: Just let me deal with this.

[Which she would have done, and Helena would have found Myka’s dismissal of Nate impressively emphatic. (I wrote her telling him off at least three different ways, and it refused to sound anything other than clichéd—one of several reasons I backtracked and had the alarms go off while they were on the elevator.) Myka would then have cautioned Helena thusly:]

Myka: I’m sure he can make our lives miserable.

Helena: If we’re truly together? I don’t see how. Won’t we be deliriously happy?

“Measures,” Myka reminded her, even as she was transported by “deliriously happy.”

Helena: (suddenly vicious) I’ll measure him right back. We’ll see who’s more persuasive in conversation with the super. We’ll see who, that is, might bring to any such conversation a professionally executed oatmeal scotchie. Of which I’ve been reliably informed the super is fond.

Myka: You seem alarmingly well prepared for this conflict. Armed for it, even.

Helena: Nate’s been pursuing me for some time, but your arrival intensified the situation. (Pause, clearly intended to recast what “the situation” actually meant.) The masquerade. I so wanted it—subtle as it was—to become real.

Myka: I have to push back a little on ‘subtle.’ Given the initial dressing-gown event.

Helena: Subtle between us.

[Something something something here. The conversation wasn’t working, but eventually:]

Myka: I wanted that too. For it to be real. For just about the whole time.

Helena: I hope we continue wanting the same things.

Myka: I hope we get better about showing it.

Helena: These hopes seem productive. And I know you have an affinity for the productive.

****

[Another version: in the kitchen, after Myka asks if they’re really talking about chairs, Helena initially gives no answer (just like in the “real” version), but then she’s the one who speaks into the silence, like so:]

Helena said, “I might be...” She winced. “Afraid.”

“Of?” Myka asked, as she prayed to the universe, Don’t let her say “you.”

What Helena did say, eventually, was, “Fire.”

Myka had never heard that strong word said so tentatively. An unexpected boon: it relieved her own fears of how differently she and Helena might be feeling, relieved her additional fears of how differently they might be weighting their feelings. She said, “Somebody told me ‘where there is no smoke there is no fire unless it is electrical,’ and while I’m not real clear on how the metaphor works here, I’m pretty sure you said you were going to hold your thought.”

“I intended to,” Helena said. Her fingers were fidgeting... a tell? “But circumstances change, and so does mood, and one begins to...”

“Lose hold?” said Myka, to which Helena nodded. “Okay. If we have to get back in the elevator for you to talk yourself back into something, then let’s go.” Myka took a step toward the door, but Helena didn’t respond.

[To which non-response Myka in turn responds with the suggestion that they bake cookies, and Helena has the same reaction to the expensive chocolate as she does in the “real” version. The bedroom conversation then had Helena rethinking, saying that “afraid” had been the wrong word for the moment. Myka counters with how she (Helena) had come up with the right word, before—“midnight” for the cookies—and Helena goes on to say that no, “afraid” really had been wrong; she should have spoken not about fear but about obstacles, e.g., time. My margin notes there were mostly just frustrated reiterations of “This is not right!” But in any case, there was never a version in which I didn’t call back to the “where there is no smoke” line.]

****

[There was also a draft that went on for longer—it didn’t cohere with the rest of the story at all, but in possibly positive news it did involve a bit more Claudia, and also some Pete, at various stages:]

They weren’t too busy, or too sleep-deprived, when it mattered.

They managed to find time to insinuate themselves into each other’s worlds.

Myka said to Claudia, in a moment of unusual candor, “She’s so important to me. I want to impress her—daily, hourly, minute-ly—but I don’t know how.”

Claudia: You could try to talk her into publishing her cookbook.

Myka: How do you know she has a cookbook?

Claudia: First, every chef has a cookbook. But second, even if she pretends she doesn’t, she’ll be impressed that you think she does.

This turned out to be true. All of it.

It led to Myka and Helena talking, seriously and not, about what such a tome should be titled. “How Not to Set Off Smoke Alarms,” Myka suggested.

“How to Repurpose Recipes As Attempts at Seduction,” Helena countered.

They eventually agreed on “The Midnight Baker.”

In lieu of immediately publishing said cookbook, Claudia booked Helena on one of her podcasts; giving Myka the scoop afterward, all she could say was, “She. Is. A. Smoke. Show.”

“I know,” Myka said, keeping to herself her many and varied feelings about, and theories of, smoke.

****

[As for the Pete-involved version: he works with Helena at the restaurant. He does the fancy chocolate work, sculpting and decorating and whatnot, at which he’s surprisingly talented, and he’s not allowed to touch anything else. On Myka’s first visit to the restaurant, I wanted Helena to introduce them, and for things to proceed kind of like so:]

Pete: So how did you two meet?

Myka: The smoke alarms in my apartment went off.

Pete (to Helena): Because she’s so hot, right?

Helena: I’m embarrassed to admit that didn’t immediately occur to me. It should have. (to Myka:) You in those quite-short shorts. (fanning herself)

Pete: Shorts? Quite short shorts?

Helena: Eyes up, reprobate.

“Does that mean ‘leg man’? Because I am definitely a leg man. Also”—he gestured at his chest—“a you-know man. Basically an all-parts man.”

Helena (to Myka): I’m incredibly sorry. All I can do is repeat that he’s brilliant with chocolate.

Pete said to Myka, “Here, I just made these.” He presented her with a small perfect sphere of a truffle. “It’s Mars,” he said, and it... was. Realistic rusty-red swirls decorated its surface, and it was so beautiful, so Mars, that she immediately forgave “you-know.” And everything else. In perpetuity.

She couldn’t imagine damaging its perfection by biting into it.

Pete said, as if concerned by her reticence, “I’ve got little model Oppys too, if that’s more your thing. They’re crunchy.”

[And then I have a note about how Myka would probably have remarked on how Oppy couldn’t possibly have been to scale, which... who cares, right? I had the Mars thing in there in the first place because I thought it was cool—who wouldn’t want a perfect chocolate Mars?—but of course it had nothing to do with the story. So then I wondered if he could have made something that would be germane in context... like maybe Myka’s Yellowstone-adjacent rock? But that would’ve required a lot of intentionality and surreptitious planning on Helena’s part, which I wouldn’t put past her, in a “Come to the restaurant because I have something special for you” sense, but that would probably have to have been a later visit, not the first.

However, if there had been such a chocolate replica-rock, somebody would have needed to note that it wouldn’t survive a fire unscathed.

The Pete part continued:]

Pete: So is the smoke alarm thing a joke or what?

Myka: No. Literally. Smoke alarms in my apartment, shrieking at four in the morning. Waking Helena up, across the hall in her apartment... but there wasn’t any smoke.

Helena: They were malfunctioning, and I reset them for her. The alarms. Because as Myka mentioned, there was no smoke.

Pete: But I guess there was a fire though.

Myka: I guess there was.

Helena: I’m glad it caught.

[That might have been an okay line to end it on, but that’s all it was: just okay, not particularly resonant. Also if they were going to retell their meeting to Pete, it would have needed to be more interesting. Why recap it unless it adds something?

In the ultimate end of the lengthier version, maybe everybody would’ve met everybody (except Nate), and they would have formed a restaurant and/or podcasting and/or publishing collective that had “13” in its name. But that would’ve been exhausting, and it wouldn’t have had anything to do with the story’s premise.

There was also a really boring ending where I punted and had Myka and Helena just shrug and say “Well, it wouldn’t take much more time to actually date than the masquerade takes, so hey, let’s go for it.”

And finally, I tried to make them go chair shopping for Myka (Helena continuing her insistence on the point), with the idea that it would start to seem obvious that they’d be sharing the chairs—the furniture salesperson would assume they were a couple and treat them accordingly, and it would essentially have been another case of a masquerade becoming real.

And so ends this excursion through some wisps of smoke...]

Oh, one last thing: If these were real outtakes, in the blooper-reel sense, I would hope they’d include somebody, or a couple of somebodies, coming real close to falling off folding chairs. (I had to restrain myself mightily to keep from knocking them off chairs in the actual story; I’ve had occasion to refamiliarize myself with some of Buster Keaton’s work recently, and it reminded me of the abject delight I take in slapstick. Not that I ever really need reminding, but even so.) Or somebody would be completely incapable of unfolding such a chair, and that would probably have been whichever random actor happened to be playing Helena—far be it from me to speculate about casting—when she’s supposed to be impressing Myka with how smooth and competent she is during the first alarm incident.

[chippedaxe]

Title: Loyalty To The Egg

Warning(s): cursing, NSFW, sub reader, tentacles, weird slime shit, rope bunny content, tell me if I should add more warnings.

Pronouns: They/Them, non specific anatomy

Synopsis: The reader gets fucked by the Egg’s tentacles.

Pairing: c! The egg X Sub! Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Note: unedited*

- if you’re not a dsmp fan and you see “egg fucks reader with tentacles” I’m rlly fucking sorry

- There’s a good chance that I’ll take this down since it’s like rlly weird but I’ll leave it up for now ig

- This was also not my original idea! I literally tried to look for who came up w this idea so I could tag them but I just couldn’t find them ??? If anyone knows who came up w the idea than pls tell me or tag them or smth ^^

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪

Tentacles curled around your legs and pulled you to the ground, you winced as you hit the floor. Your body curled up on itself as you tried to get away, another tendril reaching out to softly pat you and calm you down.

Your heart was racing and you weren’t too sure what was going on, the egg’s voice spoke to you and informed you of what was going on which was not only scary but disturbing. “Calm down, don’t you want to pledge your loyalty to me?” The egg asked in a kind of unintelligible voice.

It hurt your head and your ears to be listening to such a harsh voice, it pained you with how the sound rang and echoed around in your brain. You were starting to feel sick, you reached to hold onto your stomach.

Your head was heating up and you were starting to feel intensely dizzy, the feel of a slimy tentacle creeping up your leg bought you back to your senses. You slapped the tendril away and backed up against the wall, the egg hissed a bit at you but then quickly calmed down.

“Don’t you want to join me? Have all of your deepest wishes granted?” You shook your head, you knew the egg had a great influence on the people it came into contact with so you were trying to hold on to the last bit of sanity.

The tentacles slowly crept back up to you but you refused to move from your spot, shaking gently as they approached you and started to wrap around your feet. “Come on, I know what you really want..”

You sighed and lowered your head to stare at the ground, your eyes glancing up at the egg pitifully “and that is?” You asked “power.” The egg’s voice had distorted more as it answered your question.

It wasn’t wrong. You’ve had nothing but utter disrespect given to you since the moment you came to the Dream Smp, it’d be nice to gain some power and show these lambs who’s really in charge.

You crooked your head and glared at the egg “sounds intriguing, doesn’t it?” You were truly considering your options here. You could try to run and ultimately fail, running back to the world of people who hurt you or…

You could flee to the care of the egg, the thing that is promising you greatness. Looking at the two choices in front of you like this, seems like it’s not such a hard decision after all!

Your lips curled up into a slight smile “Fine. I’ll join you, what do you want from me?” You allowed the tentacles to fully wrap around the lower half of your body, your legs unable to move apart from each other.

The egg gently pulled you closer, dragging you across the floor until you’re sitting just beneath it. “I just need you to prove your loyalty” it didn’t sound like such a difficult task at first, you believed that you’d just be instructed to kill someone or recruit others but this task was a bit more complicated than that.

“Let me inside you..”

Your eyes widened “what??” You weren’t sure what you heard, you thought hoped it may have been a misunderstanding. “You need to willingly accept me into you..” the tentacles squeezed your legs tightly.

You gulled nervously and nodded “o- okay” you didn’t know what you were thinking at the time but you hoped this was a good choice. The egg seemed thrilled by your decision as it spawned my tentacles to engulf your body.

Your armour was tossed to the floor, a loud clacking noise echoing the halls. Your clothes were torn as well, most of the fabric still being attached to your body apart from the large holes that were created to expose your sensitive bits.

Your pants were ripped at and torn off, the thread loosening and falling to the ground along with the destroyed fabric. You whines when you started to feel the tentacles’ suction cups sucking on the soft skin on your thighs.

You moved your arms to push the sticky tentacles off your thighs but that only encouraged the egg to tie your hands behind your back, you gasped and tried to get them out of the egg’s grasp but to no avail.

“Let my hands go!” You complained, the egg ignoring you as it’s tentacles slid up your torso and started to gently toy around with your nipples. Your face grew hotter and a large lump appeared in your throat that you couldn’t swallow down in that moment.

The suction cups returned, pinching your nipples and suckling on them like a regular human would be able to. You cringed at the feeling of the tentacles starting to lactate a sticky slimy consistency, lathering your body in it as it touched you.

You had in fact agreed to this but it was still so weird to you!

Another pair of tentacles lunged at you and tore off your underwear, rubbing your crotch gently just to lather it up with the slimy lubricant before pushing into your hole gently “fuck!” You cursed out loud. You arched your back and clenched your eyes shut as you felt it penetrate you, it felt weird and you hated the feeling of the slime inside you.

You growled out loud “do you recruit all your followers like this?!” You shouted, getting no response in return. A gasp leaving your mouth as the tentacle dug a little deeper into your body, suction cups clinging to your tight fleshy walls.

You couldn’t help but start to enjoy the feeling of the tentacles fucking you, your face scrunched up and you tried to focus on your climax. The egg started to enter a second tentacle inside of you, both of the tentacles being quite the tight fit.

You screamed in pleasure and went to cover your mouth with your hand until you remembered your restraints, feeling embarrassed as your pleasurable noises left your mouth.

Your walls tightened around the tendrils, the pressure from your stomach bursting and leaving you a panting mess on the ground. Sweat dripped from your forehead onto the ground, a weird smell emitting from you now that you had just came.

The egg seemed satisfied as it pulled its tentacles out of you, a small but deep rumbling coming from the egg which shook the floor gently. You moved now that you were released, legs a bit too weak to be able to walk so you just stayed kneeling in front of the egg.

“You have proven your loyalty to me, thank you” you bowed your head down “what now, boss?” You asked.

———————-

*wrote this in my notes (copied and pasted) so it might be formatted/look different!

- also if no one could tell, I don’t rlly know the egg? I’m not 100% caught up with the dsmp so I got a lot of the info off the internet.

[fruggo]

I’m not gonna lie this would be the first time I requested something so if I do something wrong I’m really sorry,

Can I request Quentin, Leon, Steve, and Frank meeting a female reader who, before the entity took her, had already faced off her own killer?

And this made her kinda tough? Like she knows what she’s doing

oh my gosh thank you so much!! this is my first ever request to fulfill so we’re in this together :DD seriously i really appreciate you!

i decided to do a headcanon kind of format for this, i hope that’s okay! also these are my absolute favorite boys aaahhh this is so fun for a first request

the boys x tough f!reader (part 1) (part 2)

warnings: swearing, reader kicks frank in the shins

word count: ~700-1k each (sorry if it’s too long…i kind of got really excited and uhhh maybe i got carried away,, yeah. sorry)

(also i'll be honest quentin's is not my best. that was the one that got eaten by the tumblr abyss and i had to write all over again, and it just didn't come out the same way that i wanted it to at first :( i did the other boys hoping i'd get some inspiration to fix it afterwards, but i got kind of stuck. so it's not my favorite, but i hope you like it okay! i want to write better stuff for quentin in the future, he is my favorite sleepy boy <3)

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

when you arrived in the realm, everyone thought you would be the same as the others—frightened, confused, and overwhelmed. but you took this nightmarish challenge in stride, adapting to your surroundings quickly and learning far faster than anybody else had.

your past experiences had made you independent and sometimes distrustful, so once you had the gist of things, you didn’t need (or want) anybody to tell you what to do. and nobody was inclined to, either—your instincts naturally told you what to do and when.

the first time you met quentin was a little awkward, i wont lie. you were wary of speaking to the other survivors; you weren’t going to let yourself get hurt again.

it was the beginning of a trial. the nurse’s fatigued shrills could be heard all the way from the edge of the wrecker’s yard, but you immediately started work on a generator, unafraid. a few minutes passed, when soft footsteps indicated someone’s approach. it was quentin—he started to work on the wires without hesitation.

you were a little surprised, only because the other survivors usually left you to your own devices. you got the impression that maybe they were intimidated by you, which you didn’t particularly mind. but you wouldn’t particularly mind some company now and then, either.

it was comfortably silent for a while, before quentin spoke up.

“what’s your name?” he asked, gaze still focused on the wires.

hesitating a little, you told him. then you said, “and you’re quentin, right?” you already knew most everybody’s name just from observation.

“that i am,” he replied.

then it was quiet for a while.

very quiet.

well, what were you supposed to say now?

the silence was deafening and very, very uncomfortable to you. normally you were okay with a quiet atmosphere, but it was the kind of silence that buzzed in your ears, chewed at your stomach, filled the area as if it were something solid. man, what were you supposed to say—

it was then that you realized poor quentin had fallen asleep, his face smooshed onto the generator. his cheek was now covered in grease and grime.

it made you smile—only a little. you finished repairing the generator on your own, causing quentin to wake with a start and bang his head on the pole protruding from the machine. he swore like a sailor until he realized where he was, smiling sheepishly.

“sorry, i wanted you to have your nap. you looked really tired,” you said. you also couldn’t stop admiring the dark grease on his face—it was really quite funny. and no, you weren’t going to say anything about it. it could stay there a little longer.

you spent the rest of the trial running the nurse around the whole wrecker’s yard, only suffering one injury until the end. quentin had no idea how you had been here for such little time and already knew how to outplay the nurse, one of the most difficult killers to survive against. he still didn’t know how to do it well himself, so he was thankful for you.

however, once the exit gates were opened, you found yourself in a bad spot. the nurse had caught you in an empty clearing with nowhere to hide or predict her moves, and she downed you instantly. quentin cringed hearing your agonized scream as you were hooked.

there was no way you were dying on his watch. once he was sure the nurse was gone, he gently lifted you from the hook, pulling out his medical kit to begin patching up your shoulder.

despite the pain, you had enough energy to smile at him and say, “thanks, nap boy.”

quentin feigned offense with a wry grin, pulling out some gauze. “is that all i’m going to be to you? nap boy?”

you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “maybe you won’t be if you get me out of here.”

“that won’t be a problem," he smiled, quirking an eyebrow.

“show me the gates and then we’ll talk, nap boy.”

from then on, quentin became your go-to source for supplies and general comfort. you weren't scared of this place, but it was nice to know you had somebody who would really be there for you.

he would often fall asleep on your shoulder at the campfire--he really was a nap boy, and you would never let him live that down.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘

leon could not tear his eyes away from you the first time you arrived in the realm. your presence was strong; he could tell you weren’t one to back away from a fight.

most of the survivors had been (rightly) confused and disoriented when they popped into the realm, but you tried to accept it quickly. you didn’t like it, in fact all you wanted was just to go home, but you came to terms with it and jumped into trials headfirst like an insane person.

that was the courageous part about you—maybe you were scared, but you did scary shit anyways. in fact, you did scary shit to spite the fear, to prove to yourself that you were strong enough to overcome it.

and leon couldn’t lie, that was cool as hell.

you had tunnel vision and didn’t pay much notice to the other survivors; you were too focused on learning about this place and getting out of trials. having gone through some real shit, being here hardly came as a surprise to you. if you were going to be here forever, what was the point in mourning? might as well just accept it and try your hardest to survive. maybe someday this sick game would end, but for now, you were prepared to fight for your life and that’s all you could really focus on.

your first trial was not the best. even though you were resourceful, you didn’t know what the objective was yet, so you weren’t sure where to start other than analyzing your surroundings. luckily for you, leon kennedy was one of your teammates.

after being downed immediately by bubba’s chainsaw and tossed onto a hook, you were amazingly resilient to the pain. leon was the one to lift you from the hook, and he took out his medkit to help patch your wound, but you flinched away from him before he could touch you.

he was puzzled. “what’s wrong?” he asked. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he wanted to help you.

you hesitated and looked him over before mumbling, “i’m fine.” and you tried to stand on your own, beginning to limp away. you didn’t want or need anyone’s help.

leon sighed, following after you. “let me help, that must hurt a lot.”

“i told you, cop, i’m fine. i don’t want your help, okay?”

leon opened his mouth to insist, but decided against it. if you didn’t want his help, then he shouldn’t butt in. that wouldn’t keep him from watching over you, though.

but then leon called after you (perhaps a little smugly), “do you even know what you’re supposed to do?”

begrudgingly, you stopped walking. no, you didn’t know what to do. “i’ll figure it out,” you said over your shoulder. and you would; you had been through enough to survive any situation thrown at you.

but maybe one pointer couldn’t hurt.

“do a generator,” he told you, giving you a cheeky grin when you turned around to look at him. he was lucky he was cute.

the first part of the trial had been rough, but after that first hook you were doing a lot better. you managed to find your own medkit from a chest, and you learned how to fix a few generators. you found it came pretty naturally, and were satisfied that you hadn’t needed anyone’s help (except leon’s. but you didn’t have to admit that yet). when the killer came near, you skillfully avoided him and stayed hidden as much as you could.

you were also pretending that you didn't notice leon hovering near you. he was not very good at being subtle; he was obviously trying to make sure you didn't get hurt. it was cute. you didn't want to ruin his fun, so you didn't say anything about it.

it wasn’t long before the gates were powered and in the process of being opened. you saw a red glowing light in the distance, and assumed that must be your destination. you put all of your remaining energy into sprinting to the exit, adrenaline pumping through your body.

but then there was a heartbeat. a heartbeat so loud it filled your head, splitting your concentration. it wasn’t your own heartbeat--it was the killer’s.

the sound of the cannibal’s chainsaw roared in your ears and pain tore through your body; you collapsed to the ground with a cry of agony. shit, that really hurt, and you weren't sure you could ever get used to it. eternity sure seemed a lot longer than you had first anticipated. would you really be here forever? doing this over and over?

biting your lip until it bled, you tried to crawl towards the gate, dragging the lower half of your body with much difficulty. it was no use, though--you hardly got anywhere, and you could already feel the killer picking you up. just like that, you were going to die? you had been so close..

but as you were being placed on bubba’s shoulder, you saw a flash of a police uniform and a blinding light, and before you knew it, you had been dropped to the ground, the exit gate looking awfully lovely and much more desirable than a meat hook. you gathered all of your strength and began limping forward, when suddenly you felt an arm firmly wrap around your waist and your own was placed around someone else’s shoulder.

leon. when you looked up at him, all he did was give you a calm smile, which you felt inclined to return. with him supporting you, the two of you made it safely to the exit and began the long traipse back to the campfire, where you would find yourself spending a lot of time together.

from then on, you always remained quite unfazed by the events of the entity’s realm—the only thing that ever made you feel weak was being around leon. he was just so cute :]

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍

you had never met someone so persistent in your life. from the moment the entity stole you here, steve harrington was after you, and there was next to nothing you could do about it. he sure was living up to his self-proclaimed role of babysitter.

you told him you were fine, that you didn’t need him following you around, but the asshole did it anyways.

“how cool do you think you are?” you asked him at some point, to which he simply shrugged with that stupid grin on his lips.

“i can take care of myself.” “i really don’t need you to baby me, steve.” “steve, if you don’t leave me alone i’m going to break your kneecaps.” these were all things that had come from your mouth multiple times recently. you were seriously thinking about that last one now.

you knew you could make it on your own, and you only wished he would give you a chance to prove that to him so he would leave you alone. but it was like he had attached himself to your hip, and for some reason the entity seemed to really enjoy putting you in trials with him. great.

he was a dumbass and a sweetheart, and you weren’t sure which one of those took higher priority. you knew he only meant well, but god, you wanted to be independent for once. why did he think he had to protect you so much? you arrived here after running for your fucking life, fighting off your long-time pursuer, and living in awful, ever-changing conditions. you had seen your closest friends die, right before your eyes. you didn’t need to be sheltered or coddled, but you couldn’t seem to make steve understand that, no matter how much you fought with him.

steve would literally throw himself in front of the killer for you. he clicked his flashlight in the killer’s face if they were after you, and he would swear and cuss until they chased him out of pure annoyance. it got him killed countless times, and you didn’t know whether to call him stupid or selfless. probably both.

eventually you decided to just copy him and see how it worked out. you weren’t scared, you had no reason to be. you wanted to show him you could be just as flashy as him.

as you arrived into a trial, steve right across from you (of course), you smiled to yourself. you had brought your best flashlight, and you were prepared to use it. the two of you began to work on a generator together, making light conversation as usual.

“if the killer comes here, hide. i’ll take him away.” “fuck you, steve harrington.” “sure, if you really want to.” “why don’t you ever leave me alone?” “it’s a mystery, isn’t it?” “i could punch you right now.” “but you won’t. i’m too good to look at.”

you know, the usual friendly stuff.

you purposefully connected the wrong wires, making the generator spark and sputter. “oops. oh no, the killer must be on their way,” you dead-panned. steve gave you an unamused look.

and indeed, only a few moments later, you heard the sound of the hillbilly and his chainsaw roaring in your direction. the two of you split up, and the killer’s weapon collided with the generator, making an awful screeching sound.

and that was when the chaos started.

steve began hollering and flicking his flashlight into the sky as usual, and after a moment’s hesitation, you did the same. steve looked at you in astonishment, pausing, but then he started again, even louder. you tried to outdo him.

“HEY BILLY! FUCK YOU!” you screamed, ignoring steve’s attempts to get you to stop. “COME AFTER ME, SHITHEAD!”

steve started actually yelling, just yelling, while you continued to swear meaninglessly. the poor hillbilly looked confused and overwhelmed, and eventually he couldn’t take the noise anymore--he just left, opting to find the other survivors while the two of you sorted out whatever it is you obviously had against each other.

it was dead silent now that the killer was gone, and you and steve were both out of breath. but as soon as you made eye contact, laughter bubbled up from your chest, causing you to collapse against the tree and slide to the ground. your voice was hoarse from all the screaming.

and then he was laughing too, stumbling over to plop down next to you, and your giggling started up a whole new round.

after the laughter died down, you stared at your hands, ignoring steve’s gaze on the side of your face until you couldn’t anymore.

“what?” you asked, finally looking at him. he was smiling all stupid again. “what?” you insisted, fighting off a grin of your own. you hated when he looked at you like that, because it made you want to smile back at him.

“nothing,” he said coyly, laughing again. you punched his shoulder playfully.

“c’mon harrington, when have you ever held your tongue before? spit it out.”

he nodded, that was true. so he said it. “i just like you, that’s all.”

oh. oh.

realization dawned upon your face. “is that why you always--”

“yes,” he interrupted you. “i thought it was obvious. man, you’re clueless sometimes.”

oh.

huh.

you guessed…maybe…steve harrington wasn’t that annoying. maybe.

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍

to say you were feisty was an understatement. frank hated your guts at first because you were so good at evading him, which he would never admit. but the thing that made him really mad was that if he ever downed you, you would kick at him and try to trip him over, like actually bruise his shins. it hurt like hell.

this lead to his decision to constantly tunnel you, and he would laugh at you while you were on the hook, too. so you hated his guts just as much as he did yours. it was a mutual guts-hating situation.

your teammates always felt bad for you, but they also thought you were a badass and knew you could handle yourself. you hadn’t told anybody where you’d come from or what had happened to you, but they knew it was something interesting. there was a reason that nothing that happened here really got to you.

sometimes things escalated even further than shin-kicking. there was one time where frank had managed to grab the back of your shirt as you tried to vault a window, and as he pulled you closer to himself, you elbowed him in the neck and squirmed out of his grasp. while he stood stunned and lost for breath, you kicked the back of his locked knee so that he fell to the ground and bonked his forehead on the wall—the classic dead leg.

this was very funny to you.

not to him.

while you ran away, laughing to yourself, frank’s anger built and built. he was tired of letting you make a fool of him, and it was time to be serious about things.

he ignored you for the rest of the trial, forming a plan in his mind. there was something he needed to do after this, so he made sure to kill everybody else to please the entity—he couldn’t get caught up, it would derail his anger train. he also didn’t feel like getting kicked in the balls or some shit, so he let you out without a problem.

frank did some brooding at the ormond lodge before he was ready to go through with his plan. and his shins really, really hurt, so susie helped him ice them before he left.

the masked killer made his way to the survivor camp rather hastily. when he arrived, he saw you pacing around, deep in thought.

so he threw a rock at you.

it was just a pebble, really. maybe it could be considered a rather large pebble, but frank insisted in his mind that it was a pebble.

“ow, what the fuck!” you cursed, rubbing your sore shoulder and looking around to find the culprit. and then your eyes laid on him.

he looked so sultry standing there at the edge of the woods, arms crossed and mask smiling, you could almost laugh at him. he acted so serious, when really, he was just an angry and misbehaving twink.

you put on your best serious face, genuinely trying not to be amused by this, and strode over to the killer.

“what do you want?” you asked confidently, mirroring his body language and crossing your arms.

frank bristled at your approach, as if trying to make himself look bigger. he wished you were scared of him like everyone else, it would really make him feel better.

“i want a truce,” he said.

you almost burst into laughter at that. a truce? what the fuck for?

he said was willing to stop tunneling and camping you if you stopped beating the shit out of him with your sticky little hands. he didn’t say it like that, but you knew that was what he meant. you, a survivor, could beat up frank, a killer, and it upset him and his little ego :(

just to humor him, you agreed. and frank nodded.

“but,” you continued, raising your eyebrows, “you have to give me something else.”

he started to say “no, no way—“ but you interrupted him: “you’re asking me to stop fighting for myself and just give in when you catch me. i think i deserve something other than just not being tunnelled.”

frank glared at you under his mask, thankful that you couldn’t see. “okay. whatever. what do you want?”

“i want to see your face.” you thought this was a good choice, something you could lord over him forever. it was surely only a win for you. his face was something private, and you would be the only survivor to know.

of course you wanted to see his face, frank thought. everyone did; they wanted to find out if he was good-looking. which, according to him, he was. if you ever asked the other members of the legion, susie was the only one to actually respond. she felt obligated to compliment him as she was basically his sister. so she would say frank is handsome in a ruggedy, jess mariano kind of way. you wondered how she knew what gilmore girls was, since that came after her time, but susie would never give away her secret.

so with a sigh, frank agreed to let you see his face. he didn’t really care, all he wanted was to stop having bruises on his shins. it was kind of miserable, and the entity never did anything to help him.

when he said that you couldn’t do it here, and you asked why the fuck not, he said it was because some other survivor might see. you decided he had a fair point, so reluctantly you let him drag you all the way to ormond.

when he took off his mask, your first thought, whether you wanted it to be or not, was “wow! he really does look like jess mariano! but with tattoos! hot!”

you were lost for words. you didn’t really know what you were expecting, but you sure weren’t expecting him to be that attractive.

he could tell your thoughts from the look on your face.

this had been per your request, and you were planning on this being something you could hold over his head, but the situation had turned into something that he could hold over your head.

oh dear. frank morrison now held pretty boy privilege over you.

and soon you would find out that he was going to keep tunnelling you anyways.

listen i've been watching a lot of gilmore girls and i just get jess vibes from frank, except our boy is more of a twinky idk shdjfhsf i love this guy sm