#again you underestimate my constant thoughts about these characters.

[rottingcompost]

Oh god for the ask game I need you to tell us about every tf2 merc please (or just the ones you want to do) !!!

Hoooo lord this is going to be long so i am sincerely sorry lol

Heavy

First impression: Kinda looks like my biology teacher i had in school at the time i first discovered tf2 (2011 or 2012). would look at birds (like my bio teacher).

Impression now: Lovely big bear of a man, but very happy to kill. Absolutely looks at birds tho.

Favorite moment: the comics. both when he took the other mercs to his house and later when he beat up classic heavy

Idea for a story: Heavy retiring and having a nice life, maybe with kids and his partner (Medic more than likely lol) and being with his family.

Unpopular opinion: probably the best at base at cooking and its not explored nearly enough imo. also him being protective over the rest of the mercs, not just medic, isnt explored enough. he's a big brother to three little sisters and an old mother, and he even expressed not wanting to leave them for the mercs because he wanted to protect them, and he sees the team as his family too and thus would be protective of them all.

Favorite relationship: Medic. just everything about their relationship is amazing. if not him then honestly? i really like the idea of him and scout having like a big brother and little brother sort of relationship. i like to see them all as a big family.

Favorite headcanon: if it isnt obvious already i'll say it again: he sees the mercs as his family and he would die for them. he loves them all like family.

Engineer

First impression: My first impression was literally from seeing some weird GMod video (cant remember what it was tho) and i just thought he looked like a weird bob the builder lol

Impression now: Smart but still mad scientist. good at playing the guitar. likely would sit you down and give you life advice but wouldnt be afraid to probably chew you out if you did something bad.

Favorite moment: i really like his meet the video. it's just nice and his voice is calming even if he talks about how he could make weapons to murder people. also him and medic together doing mad science stuff is amazing. like the halloween comic and expiration date. just love them working on stuff together.

Idea for a story: engineer on a day off. he needs a break. everyone always makes him overworked :(

Unpopular opinion: he is a mad scientist. i refuse to let people tell me that he is a cool and collected and totally hinged man. he is a little unhinged and he told me himself.

Favorite relationship: Engineer and Medic. either that or engineer and spy to be honest. i like the idea of him and pyro being close friends though!

Favorite headcanon: Engineer and the opposite team's spy having a friendly rivalry more than being actual enemies.

Demoman

First impression: this man is depressed. please give him a hug.

Impression now: this man is depressed. please give him a hug. but also he is very misunderstood.

Favorite moment: him playing the piano in expiration date. also him in the comics is just. so good.

Idea for a story: Demoman and his team hanging out and having fun together! maybe just having a night off and playing some games together? it would be nice to see...

Unpopular opinion: maybe not super unpopular since i have seen other people on here say it, but him being reduced to only being drunk, and him being drunk used as an excuse to exclude him from the work, or just really excluding him in general, and leaving a conveluted reasoning for it. we dont see enough love for him. ALSO the fact that he is RARELY brought up as a scientist as well, when he makes his explosives himself and definitely knows his explosives, as his family have worked with them for ages! he is a scientist as well and we need to see him more with Engi and Medic doing sciency stuff!

Favorite relationship: demo and soldier, but i also really like demo and sniper!

Favorite headcanon: he really likes animals. he would have a pet cat or dog or something.

Medic

First impression: unhinged. why do people like him so much?

Impression now: unhinged. i understand why people like him. he's a funny and menacing man.

Favorite moment: meet the medic! it's just such a good introduction to him! it gives him so much personality! it shows that he is powerful in a terrifying way! it has some really funny jokes! also him fucking over Satan in the comic and then killing classic heavy with the power of mpreg is... a choice, but it was a funny as fuck choice. i just love how this madman just. stole the other mercs' souls and stitched them to his own soul so he KNEW he could fuck over Satan when he inevitably died. I also like the meet the medic outtakes, even if they might not entirely be canon. they are just grwat and i like to think of them as canon, since it was still made by valve.

Idea for a story: honestly i would love to see stuff from his past. like him making his first deal with the devil, how he stole a skeleton, or anything like that! it's fun to imagine that!

Unpopular opinion: he is seen as too much of an uwu soft boy. he is a merc and he is perfectly capable of killing, just like his teammates. he has the capability to cause a lot of harm. he slashed classic heavy's face open with his übersaw! HE STOLE SOMEONE'S ENTIRE SKELETON AND THEY LIVED! he is a strong dude and he could kill people. seeing people treat him like he would always be bullied into being submissive and him being entirely non-violent unless really threatened is... eh. let him cause some bloodshed! also i REALLY wish they had given him more weapons, like the concept art where he has a fucking SMG1. we could have had that.

Favorite relationship: heavy. i also really like medic and engie tho. they are great. i also do like medic and soldier, even if they are quite a rare-pair. other than that i just like that he still sees the mercs as his family, and him being nervous when classic heavy said they were hunting his old team shows that he still cared about them!

Favorite headcanon: im not sure. maybe the idea that all medics have some sort of animal lol. i like the many different headcanons people think of for how medic got Archimedes for example.

Sniper

First impression: who is this australian cowboy looking dude? Is that piss in those jars? nah it cant be.

Impression now: that's definitely piss. also he's a stinky man but he's a cool dude. this guy is in his 20s somehow but he looks like he's 40 something. how did this guy age so badly?

Favorite moment: cant exactly think of much, but i like when he goes to new zealand in the comics and meet his parents and realize they are. shitty lol. also a moment like nobody else knows about is when i dreamt the mercs were having a party or something and Sniper just. fell off the fridge like a GMod ragdoll. the rest of the dream is so hazy but him falling off the fridge is. weirdly memorable i guess lol

Idea for a story: would be fun to see him on a camping trip and see him fish or hunt. maybe he could bring scout or demo.

Unpopular opinion: you dont see him enough. he's sadly kinda forgettable when he actually has so much character.

Favorite relationship: Sniper and Demo. i also like Sniper and Scout tho. Sniper just feels like a pretty lonely dude and like he would stay away from the others mostly. maybe they can help him come out of his shell. also like. my brain refuses to accept that he's not like 40 so i do like him and spy in contexts where he's just written as older. i really had no idea he was in his 20s until i looked at his wiki page and it still just feels like such a weird thing.

Favorite headcanon: he uses a lot of australian slang and stuff, much to the confusion of his teammates. also just the idea of him having THE WORST ability to dress himself when he isn't wearing his work uniform is funny. he would wear socks and fish sandals and a hawaii shirt with some cargo shorts. prove me wrong.

Spy

First impression: why is he wearing such a nice suit and such an ugly skii mask?

Impression now: horrible bastard but also a good teammate and also a bad father figure and a good dad. definitely has stink lines radiating off of him. he never cleans his stupid skii mask and is never seen without it, and he smokes all the time. he can't smell pleasant.

Favorite moment: expiration date! i like how he took it upon himself to get the mercs to write down their last wishes and attempt to help them with it, and that he forgave scout for messing with him and then took it upon himself to help scout achieve a date with ms Pauling and you even see him weirdly proud of scout when he tells him he will be able to do the date himself! i also like meet the spy, i like how it feels like he's the ONLY one who actually takes the matter seriously AND understands WHY their situation is. not great. also the rant he gives sniper about his stupid suit jacket in the comic is great. AND the scene between him and scout in the comic where he tells him he’s scout’s dad while disguised as Tom Jones is also a great part and it’s sad.

Idea for a story: honestly more dad spy moments. him actually telling scout that he's his dad, catching up with him, maybe trying to fix his mistake of leaving scout as a kid. he has been shown to still care about scout's ma so i kind of feel like he maybe didnt exactly WANT to leave his child without a father.

Unpopular opinion: written as too mcuh of an asshole, when he's not JUST an asshole. he's an asshole, but he also cares A LOT about his team and he knows when to not fight some battles! i dont LIKE him as a character but i think he gets too harsh treatment from some people.

Favorite relationship: spy and engi, and spy and sniper (in contexts where sniper is OLDER), but i also really like the entire father and son relationship with scout. please he needs to have his relationship fixed!

Favorite headcanon: he still checked in on scout for YEARS after he left him and his ma. he was still watching over them in the shadows and made sure they could support themselves.

Pyro

First impression: menacing but cool looking person! i wonder what they look like under the mask.

Impression now: STILL absolutely COOL and MENACING! also a sweet person, but ultimately capable of a lot of destruction.

Favorite moment: the comics. i love how they became the CEO of a company and made every employee into millionaires. also they got a dog! and ALSO meet the pyro!

Idea for a story: honestly just a story with them hanging out with different teammates!

Unpopular opinion: too infantilized. the meet the pyro video is a little to blame for this, BUT that still doesnt excuse it! pyro is a VERY destructive merc! you cant just have the sweet and innocent side without having the destructive and violent side! show pyro committing more crimes! also i dont entirely like the pyro unmasked thing? like. i like it being a mystery! at least the canonical pyro, if you have a maskless pyro oc that's entirely fine! i have two of them and like. that's cool! i just prefer just not knowing much at all about how the canonical pyro looks like!

Favorite relationship: im not sure! i dont entirely ship them with anyone, but the idea of them being really close friends with scout, engie, and demo? amazing! i love it!

Favorite headcanon: i think the idea of pyro being some other creature entirely is fun! i wouldnt put it past them to make pyro into an alien or some shit, we already have so many weird things in the tf2 canon! we havent had a lot of alien and UFO representation in tf2 even if its set in new mexico quite some years after the roswell incident! maybe one alien got out and ended up having a huge affinity for arson and rainbows and just so happened to join a team of vicious mercs? we got robots! we got metal that extents people's life span AND make them grow a mustache and australia shaped chest hair! we got ABRAHAM LINCOLN INVENTING STAIRS ONLY TO DIE FROM ROCKET JUMPING ON THEM! why WOULDNT we have an alien anywhere in the game? we have MERASMUS! A BURGLAR PUMPKIN! we even have a ghost sword who wants to kill people and talks about wanting to harvest heads. please vlave i beg just add some aliens or UFOs i would die happy.

Scout

First impression: this guy seems cool. wait no he’s annoying. wait no he’s cool. wait no he’s-

Impression now: he’s annoying, he’s a cool dude, he’s caring, he’s a bastard, he’s a wet dog of a man, he’s fast as fuck boy, he’s respectful, he’s disrespectful-

Favorite moment: the part where he’s dying in the comic and spy tells him he’s his dad, and scout actually believes that Tom Jones is his dad. also scout spending all his life savings on Tom Jones merch is such a stupid but extremely funny moment of the comics. ALSO expiration date is just a great short with him. i’m actually really sad that expiration date is the closest thing we will get to an actual tf2 series since valve and adult swim didnt end up taking it anywhere and i would kill to see more episodes. ALSO i like scout in end of the line. End of the line is great in general, and i like that valve just liked it so much that they made it canon.

Idea for a story: Scout and Heavy having a sibling relationship. just Heavy teaching scout how to lift weights or make sandviches or taking him to see some bears or something. i just like them being siblings. maybe they could play catch together? Heavy teaching scout how to be a proper adult.

Unpopular opinion: scout is DEFINITELY reduced to just being the fast loud and annoying dude with no respect for anyone, which yeah, fair, he might come off as that, but deep down he’s insecure, cares deeply for his team, he knows when he might go too far, he does respect people, and he probably knows he cant really get ms Pauling. ALSO while i did really like him when i first got into tf2, i dont entirely get the hype for him nowadays. he’s not a bad merc or a bad fave but he feels a little overhyped.

Favorite relationship: scout and sniper, and friendship-wise him and pyro. his son/father relationship with spy and the potential for a little brother/big brother relationship with heavy. there’s just so much potential there.

Favorite headcanon: scout still having a fucking bird in his chest. it’s just so stupidly funny. technically not even non-canon since when you kill a scout there’s a small chance a dove flies out of his chest. 10/10. i also like to headcanon that he is a pizza delivery boy in his free time away from the base, mostly based on the concept art of him. also he would 100% be a gamer bro who drinks only monster (or bonk in this case) and i dont know punches drywall and tells people he fucked their mom over voice chat, and then he would feel bad and apologize soon after. 

Soldier

First impression: this dude is pure insanity. i love him.

Impression now: this dude is pure insanity but he's also so much deeper than that and i love him even more. pretty much my favourite merc.

Favorite moment: honestly? everything lol. the main comics, doom-mates, a smissmas storyn and WAR! are the most amazing ones. him in meet the director is great too, as well as gargoyles and gravel. he is absolutely great in the meet the videos, especially in meet the spy and meet the soldier. expiration date has a lot of amazing and funny moments, which is why his moments are the most meme-able ones from that short. he's also really great in end of the lines. i rotate this funky helmet man in my head all the time. 25/8. there are also some great GMod animations and SFM shorts with him, and he was ALSO my first introduction to freak fortress, which is basically fan-made cryptid mercs. THE BEST fan made animations are the ones by the winglet, specifically his fedora chronicles, where soldier plays a huge part, and Turbulence by Dunkle is also great. not canonical stuff but they are just really great. the first GMod animations i found that i really liked were the ones by rubberfruit, who made some great ones with soldier, like soldier thinks he's a robot, soldier thinks the sentry is american, soldier makes hamburger, and his SFM animations orca trouble and dude time are funny. they are pretty random xd humor, but they are a great time capsule into the early 2010's. again, while these are not canonical, they are some great moments and just add to why i love soldier so much.

Idea for a story: him spending time with the other mercs, like him hanging out with demoman, him and Zhanna together, him and medic hanging out, him and engineer hanging out? just anything, man. could be serious or could be funny or could be sad, i will eat it up. give me more soldier.

Unpopular opinion: sadly usually dismissed as just an asshole or only violent and horrible or like. extremely dumb. he obviously knows how to strategize, he cares about his team, and while he is dumb and kinda loud he is just. more than just that. he is also extremely funny, but sometimes he is only reduced to just a joke, when he is more than just haha funny helmet man. i still love the jokes with him and him being a funny dude but i wish i could see more... normal stuff with him? also people hating on his and Zhanna's relationship is just sad, because they genuinely are so cute together!

Favorite relationship: soldier and Zhanna, soldier and demoman, and soldier and medic. i also like his and heavy's relationship and brother in laws, since it's just funny. i also think that soldier and engi is a cool pairing. i also really love his ex room-mates relationship with merasmus, it's just great.

Favorite headcanon: soldeir and merasmus just being divorced. if you look really closely you can see some signs. also soldier having the most cartoony logic out of all of them, making the others look more realistic and more grounded than him. this man can rocket jump and also teleported bread for three days straight, probably not even taking a single break. this man can turn his own organs off and go into autopilot while hyperfocusing on one singular task. also i like to think that he's just much calmer when around some of the other mercs, and i love his little raccoons and i like to imagine he's like a disney princess but with only raccoons.

Ms Pauling

First impression: did the administrator get replaced? or is she the administrator's daughter?

Impression now: still dont know if they are related but i love this girl and i want her to have more than one single day off a year. please someone give her a break. she needs one.

Favorite moment: THE COMICS! i LOVE her trying to get the team together and then also trying to get the australium that's all running out. i also like expiration date, but honestly? the art of her just doing different work in different parts of the world.

Idea for a story: PLEASE just her having a break. she deserves a break. she needs a break. just a day off. please.

Unpopular opinion: while i understand why they have started using her to give the mercs missions, i still miss the administrator doing it. i LOVE ms Pauling but it feels weird to hear her so often? also i personally dont like the ship between her and scout, seeing as she has been confirmed to be a lesbian.

Favorite relationship: i like the ship between ms Pauling and Zhanna. it's just sweet in its own little way. other than that i like the idea of her just being close friends with the mercs, and them often going out to fun events, like in the comic where ms Pauling mentioned her and her friends doing things together. that's her and the mercs.

Favorite headcanon: ms Pauling being related to the administrator. either being her daughter, granddaughter, clone, sister? cousin? anything really. i think it's sweet!

that should be it, and again, im so sorry for this long post, and if you read this all i am impressed.

[ann4zw]

My Perfect Girl.

N/a: Let's start with an apology. Because English is not my native language and I know there can be a lot of mistakes in English. I would appreciate if you could inform me about this error.I've written a thing or two before, but this is the first time I've written something like this and it's about Hayden and one of his characters. I've never written anything NSFW either, but I hope you like it, kisses from Ana. (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

Content warnings: NSFW content!! Sam Monroe x reader, mention of drugs (marijuana), explicit sex, characters of legal age.

You were returning from a long walk to clear your head. Before leaving the house, you had a heated fight with your parents. Immersed in a sea of emotions, you found yourself weighed down by the overwhelming weight of being constantly underestimated. His weakened self-esteem reflected the lack of recognition from his family, who inadvertently focused more on expectations and demands than on his true qualities and efforts dedicated to them.

Every benevolent act you performed seemed to disappear in the shadow of family demands, without receiving the praise and recognition it deserved. The constant pressure left you immersed in a feeling of devaluation, as if the light of your achievements were constantly dimmed by the incessant noise of demands.

The bitter melody of lack of recognition echoed in his heart, even as he struggled to provide support and care to those around him.

In the middle of this tumultuous path, his eyes met those of Sam Monroe, his dear neighbor, who was on the porch of his house smoking marijuana. The moon cast a soft light over the scene, and when their eyes met, Sam gave a small wave in his direction. With nothing to lose, you decided to get closer, you didn't want to go home anyway.

"Are you humble enough to share the dram?" he asked, staring at Sam with a smirk as he leaned against the porch. He replied with a sarcastic smile, "I didn't think Miss Perfect was into that kind of thing," but he eventually gave in and shared the joint.

"Perfection is overrated, don't you think? Sometimes we need to escape the pressure and just live." You with a yellow smile as you took the joint to your mouth and took a light drag, you feel Sam watching you as you do so.

"True. Life is complicated enough. Sometimes a break is all we need." Sam responds by changing the direction of his gaze to the moon.

As you share light-hearted laughter and thoughts, the initial tension between you melts away. Sam, more seriously, asks, "What about you? What brought you here on this complicated night?"

You hesitate for a moment but end up deciding to share, once again, what do you have to lose? "Family, expectations... I feel like I'm always trying to meet their demands, but it's never enough."

Sam looks at you in a way you can't decipher and says. "I understand."

The conversation flows smoothly, and as the joint is shared, a deeper connection is established. You suddenly feel Sam's hand caressing his face, and then you turn your face slightly so you can meet his eyes, oh, those eyes...

"You're so..." he seems to get a little lost for words but ends with "beautiful." you feel a slight fervor on your face when you hear the praise coming from Sam, before you can respond he speaks; "I could kiss you right now." he said with an amused tone as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Then kiss.." I take the courage out of my ass to say that but I'm glad I said it.

Heart racing, hands shaking slightly. I look into Sam's deep eyes, feeling the electric energy between us. With a playful smile on his face, he leans towards me slightly, capturing my lips softly. The kiss starts out soft and tentative, but soon turns into something more intense and passionate. Sam's hands lightly cup his face, while I surrender to the moment, feeling the warmth of his touch and the sweetness of the kiss. It's a magical moment, where the world around you disappears, and you find yourself immersed in the intimacy of this special moment.

Your breathing gets deeper as Sam's kisses send goosebumps across your skin. You feel enveloped by a wave of desire, an intense fire burning within you. With a shaking hand, you caress Sam's face as he continues to explore every inch of your neck. Every touch, every movement, seems to electrify his body, making his senses seem to be on edge, completely surrendered to the overwhelming passion of the moment. Whispers of pleasure escape your lips, and you feel completely enveloped by this intense connection with Sam. The world around you disappears as you give in to the pure emotion of the moment.

With a quick movement, Sam traps you between him and the balcony, holding tight to your waist, while lowering his lips to his neck. You rest your hand on the back of his neck, lightly pulling his dyed black hair, feeling his body react with heat and fervor to the hot kiss that Sam places on his neck. His every touch is like a flame that ignites his skin, taking you to a state of ecstasy and complete surrender to the fiery moment you share.

Your breathing gets deeper as Sam's kisses send goosebumps across your skin. You feel enveloped by a wave of desire, an intense fire burning within you. Every touch, every movement, seems to electrify your body, making your senses seem to be on edge. Whispers of pleasure escape your lips, and you feel completely enveloped by this intense connection with Sam. The world around you disappears as you give in to the pure emotion of the moment.

Sam suddenly stops the kisses, and you look at him with a confused look. "We can't do that here, pretty." he says. You have a great idea and look at him with a mischievous smile. He soon returns the smile, curious about what is going on in your mind, and his eyes shine brightly as he waits to find out what you are planning.

With a quick, purposeful movement, you grab Sam's hand and pull him towards your house. As soon as you enter the main door, you hear murmurs coming from the kitchen, where your parents are busy with some activity that you don't even care about. Sam understands the situation and gives you a knowing look, smiling with admiration for your determined manner. Without hesitation, you lead him to his room.

As soon as they enter the room, Sam acts quickly by pressing you against the door and sharing a passionate kiss with you. You can feel his warm, calloused hands smooth your ass and then give them a firm squeeze. You push him gently, leading Sam to the bed.

"What's the plan now?" Sam asks, giving him a curious look.

You respond with a mischievous smile, "Well, I guess we'll make this moment even more interesting." Kneeling in front of him, he adds, "What do you think?" Sam picks up on the suggestion and returns the look with a mischievous smile, understanding perfectly. With agility, you unbuckle Sam's belt, taking his cock out. It was bigger than thick, it was red and with pulsing veins, which only increased his desire to shove it down his throat.

You then place his red head on your lips, sucking it like it's candy. Sam's loud moans fill the room as he throws his head back. With confidence, you welcome him completely into your mouth, making skillful back and forth movements, intensifying the connection between you while maintaining eye contact with Sam, you watch him moan, with his mouth half open, his forehead sweaty. You just smile, thinking if that's all for you.

Sam moans praise, saying: "Such a beautiful girl, such a delicious mouth..." When he tries to put his hand on his head to maintain a rhythm, you intensify the suction, forcing him to place his hands on the bed for support. and avoid collapsing in the face of the intensity of the moment.

Sam's chest rose and fell, his moans echoing in the room, you increase the suction even more and begin to massage his sensitive balls as well. "Pretty, I'm going to cum.." Sam's moans took on a desperate tone, he needed to cum. Sam began to moan his name repeatedly, increasingly euphoric, as if the words were a visceral expression of pleasure. The room echoed with your moans, he tries to push your head so you can let his cock free from your mouth but you hold your thighs tightly, feeling hot ropes of sperm in your throat, you swallow everything that Sam pours for you, without stop sucking him even more, even though he has already cum..

"honey, that's too much." He moans loudly from overstimulation as you continue working with his sensitive cock, he tries to push you away but he is out of strength from his recent orgasm. “pretty, I don’t…” a loud moan escapes his lips as he tries to stammer out the words. "I can't take it-" his breathing becomes even faster as he moans even louder, giving rise to his second orgasm. You insist on taking him until the last drop that comes out of that beautiful cock.

When you're sure you've done it, you slowly back away as you watch Sam recover. He looks at you with a mischievous smile on his face. "My God, you're perfect," Sam said with an amused tone and a hoarse voice, revealing a mixture of surprise and admiration. In response, you smile and go on top of him, fishing his lips in a wet kiss, sharing the taste of your own cock and cum with him. “You taste so good,” you say in a whisper as you continue to kiss Sam, sucking and biting his lower lips. Sam ran his hands over your body, taking off your clothes while you enjoyed his mouth with the best kiss you've ever tasted.

"I think mine comes from making you moan, don't you think?" He says with a smile, laying you down on the bed, climbing on top of you and running his tongue over your nipple, sucking it like a baby in search of your breast milk. Brushing his dick against your soaked entrance, he lifts his head to look at you and says, “Ready?” He asks with a horny smile, before you can respond, Sam shoves his entire length into your hungry hole, making you scream in a loud moan, the stretch giving you a pain that makes you arch your back. "Oops, it slipped.." he says with an amused tone. "I-Idiot.." you moan and he runs his finger across your lips. "Be quiet, pretty, you don't want your parents to come here, do you?" Sam teases and you remember that your parents are home, damn it, you completely forgot about that, but you have something more important to think about right now.

He immediately grabbed her hand and began to thrust hard and fast, dragging his tongue down her throat to her breasts and sucking them. Sam took his hand and lifted his head to lick his ear, speaking very softly in his ear. "Okay, pretty? I can do this all day." In response to his provocation, you let out an extremely loud moan, Sam covered your mouth and spoke. "Noisy bitch." He says with a mocking smile on his face. Sam kissed you, groping your breasts and pinching your nipples, making you shudder.

"Ah, pretty", he says between moans, "You're a complete mess, so perfect... my perfect girl."

He pulls you into a wet, dirty kiss and you whimper, drooling on his lips, your eyelashes fluttering as they touch your clit.

"Taking my dick so well with that perfect pussy.." He kisses you on the neck, giving light hickeys, never stopping to thrust hard inside you, reaching your sweetest spot, it doesn't take long for you to feel a familiar sensation in your core. "Sam.. I'm going to cum!" You say with a moan, your back arching as your chest rose and fell. Sam, upon hearing his words, pulls your legs to rest them on his shoulder and starts thrusting uncontrollably, making you scream even more, the impact noise of the meat hitting each other was loud and echoed throughout the room. “cum for me, perfect girl, pour your delicious honey on my dick” He says teasingly in your ear, he knows the effects it has on you. As you feel the knot in your core break, you moan Sam's name as you spill your cum onto his cock, after a few thrusts, Sam does the same to your pussy.

After the moment of ecstasy, Sam collapsed next to him, the bed serving as a silent witness to their shared emotions. Both tried to catch their breath, their sweaty bodies revealing the intensity of the encounter. The room, which had been too noisy, was now filled with silence, just the subtle echo of intertwined breaths, as tiredness transformed into a comforting feeling of shared intimacy.

Sam's gaze finds his pussy, which was dripping with both of your cum, and a smile forms on his lips. “Look at this,” he says looking at you, his lips find yours tenderly, he holds your chin gently. "You're perfect," he says, each word filled with appreciation. The intimacy of the moment transcends words, leaving only the sweet melody of shared connection in the air. "My perfect girl." , gently stroking your abdomen as he strokes your hair.

Sam looks at you with a smile after the shared moment. "Do you always have that amazing smile after a moment like that?"

"Maybe it's your ability to bring smiles." You respond jokingly.

Sam laughs softly, appreciating the answer.

"Well, I can only thank you for the inspiration. How do you feel now?" He asks and you reflect on the moment, expressing your feelings. "Like I'm floating on clouds, what about you?"

Sam shares the same sentiment. "The same. I think we managed to create something special here." Both recognize the uniqueness of the moment.

"Definitely."

As you enjoyed each other's caresses, a sound of footsteps echoes down the stairs, making you quickly look at Sam.

"Sam, you locked the door didn't you?" Sam looks at you confused, and for a brief moment, you share a look of mutual surprise.

"What? I thought you locked it."

[rosesfox]

✿ acftl review! ✿ (spoilers!)

🚨 i'm seriously warning you, it's a review and therefore there will be spoilers. read at your own risk! 🚨

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things i really liked:

❥ the rhythm of the book was perfect for me. i was able to dive into the story very easily and it's something constant for me in sg's books. the way she develops the plot is perfect. i thought everything was well placed and the pages were used wisely.

❥ the evolution of jacks and evangeline for me is something totally palpable; evangeline continues to have the same essence as always and i love that about her. she is a romantic girl, she is a soft girl and she is sweet. but she is also intelligent, she is strong and she doesn't let herself get carried away by situations. she makes her decisions and she is in control of her life. most of all, i loved that evangeline loves jacks and believes in her love more than anything. all she wanted was him and after three books, seeing them both embrace their desires so openly was extremely satisfying.

the same goes for jacks, who also had two other books to develop as a character. his essence is the same, he remains the sociopath we all love. but he is in love. he is desperately in love. and in this book there was no room for anything other than the two of them fighting for each other. it was everything evajacks needed, and sg delivered it to us perfectly.

i would like to add that i found jacks' povs completely necessary. i saw someone saying they weren't, while i thought they helped us understand his evolution, more of his character and the way he feels about evangeline. i particularly loved it and i don't know how Stephanie thought about not including it!

btw i think it's very important to read this book remembering that it's the third in a trilogy and stephanie is not underestimating our intelligence. she will act as if this is the third book and waste no time drawing so that we understand. she has already established that evangeline and jacks love each other, here they are just on the journey to actually be together.

❥ i loved the way jacks' curse unfolded. it was better than i could have expected and i also love the way eva managed to kiss him. there is no doubt that evangeline, throughout this time, was the only girl on jacks' mind. and she is literally the only one he has ever truly loved.

❥ apollo was disgusting from the beginning to the end. i think that, for what the character proposes, he was developed very well and to some degree i think his participation was quite interesting. aurora is a pest, but i like how stephanie decided to build her.

❥ chaos and lala! i really want the two of them to have a solo book (mainly to read more about evajacks), and i really liked their occasional appearances.

❥ i honestly thought it was an amazing closing for evajacks. there was absolutely nothing missing for me (mainly because of one of the epilogues), and i'm very grateful to stephanie!

some of my analyzes that were accurate: (im so happy about it)

❥ jacks says that since the day at his church he couldn't take his eyes off her. since that day he had to convince himself that she was just a tool. since that day, he started to care. i always said that since ouabh he cared, but i didn't even imagine that it would be from the literal beginning and i loved that.

❥ eva says that the first time jacks betrayed her trust, she felt her heart break. she says that she had been in love with him ever since, so, again, i was right when i said that the two of them fell in love right from the start.

points that I found strange:

❥ where is luc? didn't he even think about visiting eva? i understand that there wasn't time for him in the book, but i would have liked to have seen him.

❥ where is marisol? (do i really care? no)

❥ kisses! i would have liked a more descriptive kiss, but what we had was incredible and cute and really suited the context and i wouldn't trade it for anything. i just wanted others.

i give the book 5 stars and i'm very happy because my favorite couple had a worthy, brilliant and wonderful closure! i don't know what i'm going to do with my life now and what i'm going to think about.

[kiliinstinct]

The Stone Prince - Prt 3

Prev - Next

Well, wouldja lookie here. An update! I meant for this to post before I moved, but life got in the way. So here it is now to hopefully tide y'all over before The Flame's Desire Update. Hopefully I can get The Colosseum Updated as well!

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It wasn’t a prank. No matter how much Lucy begged for it to be.

What started as a raise to Lucy’s ire and disbelief soon derailed to utter bafflement with begrudging yet confused acceptance not far behind. The constant assurance from the others claiming that a practical joke to the degree of hiring a man feigning to be stone for a day was ludicrous. She knew it, of course, but was still desperately grasping at straws to explain the unexplainable. To have anything make the slightest inkling of sense. Only a day later, she caved to reality, not finding any logic behind her earlier assumptions.

The impossible had happened.

A stone man stepped out of time off his pedestal into the world of the living. He coughed dust from his lungs and stumbled about on very real legs of flesh and bone. And his appetite, to everyone's dismay, was voracious. Once he drank all the water he could, they fed him in small amounts despite his complaints for more. Mostly it was to stop him from choking on his food, but also to make sure he didn’t get sick from too much at once. Unfortunately, they underestimated the amount of times he’d end up whining for seconds. Even thirds. 

No, not whine: demand. 

If not for his inability to walk a straight line, Lucy or any of her peers would have gladly taken away the ability for him. (Gray had threatened it twice, with the same rock he’d brandished the day before that he kept close at hand.) 

He spoke as if they would respond to every beck and call, haughty commands that he thought left no room for arguments, expecting them to serve him at any given moment.

When they didn’t, he attempted to complete the task himself. More food? Explain the odd clothes in the nearest suitcase? Each time ended the same: A huffing so-called Prince struggling to rise, tripping over their luggage, boxed implements and tents. His own curiosity could not outweigh his frustrations as his tendency to drag himself to the doors to ‘inspect the grounds’ ended in failure. His incessant claims to nobility fried their nerves as his demands grew by the minute. A brat, Lucy had said - Gray and Levy muttering in annoyed agreement- and Freed, choosing not to add to the assessment vocally, merely nodded his quiet confirmation. 

And yet…

“Lucy, sit down, you can relax beside me.” He said once and patted the cushion he had claimed when Lucy’s confused pacing had made her dizzy. 

“I asked for the half-naked jester to move my things, not Lucy.” He had snapped another time when Lucy dragged a spare sleeping bag out for him. 

He scrunched his nose when she offered to prepare dinner. “Why are you making Lucy cook?” He pointed to the others, frowning, “Do it yourself. She’s not your chef!”

His entire character turned a 180 the moment recognition lit in his eyes and leaked into his voice. A bias that made Lucy uncomfortable, awkwardly so. And the entire group was quick to notice.  

It was a whirlwind. One that Lucy didn’t wish to ride. The earlier excitement of navigating new ruins had soured with the treatment of this so-called Prince; with his pushy demands and constant need for assistance. It sprouted a dreadful headache just behind her eyes. Fortunately, all he needed had been a day to recuperate. His strength returned, each step less clunky than the last, and his ability to move around reminded Lucy of a child with a never ending source of energy. He couldn’t sit still for longer than five minutes. And he, much to their chagrin, couldn't keep his curious fingers away from most of their things.

Even so, his stamina–apparently drained after disuse, sent him back to the floor again after less than thirty minutes of movement, which in his eyes was barely any time at all. It was becoming difficult to keep his mood level after his energy was spent so quickly and even more so keeping him away from the many implements and notes they’d brought along with them for the survey. 

When Levy decided to finally make her way into the decaying Library, Lucy dove on the opportunity to join her. Anything to get away from the mysterious man that kept ordering her to stick close to him.

“Erm, no offense, Lu,” Levy mumbled, fingers twitching as she wavered in and out of the doorway, “But it might be best if you stay behind until he’s a little less.. Um, clingy?” 

Her eyebrows moved, gesturing towards the formerly stone prince as he rushed to stand, ready to demand Lucy’s presence once more. “With his legs half as wobbly as they are, it’s safer for him not to go near any of the books or anything in there really. Especially if there's anything salvageable, don’t you think?”

Lucy’s heart sank, realizing the wisdom behind the statement, but still disappointed all the same. “Ugh, can’t we just…call someone to get him? Clearly, he needs a hospital or something.”

“Yes, I’m sure they’d love to hear, ‘please, get this man who's been asleep for 500 years to the nearest ICU. No, we’re not prank calling you, honest!’ I bet that would go over nicely.” 

Lucy snorted at Levy’s sarcasm, but the shorter girl was just as stubborn as she could be.She patted Lucy’s shoulder in support. “I know it's rough, but…maybe with him less likely to pass out from hunger, he’ll be willing to listen to you. It doesn’t hurt to try, right?”

“Ugh, but he’s so-” looking back at him, she flinched when he shouted another order at Gray, who snarled from his tent, ready to commit murder. Lucy quietly hoped he didn't have that rock nearby “-that.”

“Oye, Lucy! “ Natsu called, voice echoing. “Take me with you, I don’t want to smell this guy any longer then I  have to-”

Gray shouted from his tent, “I’m not the one who hasn’t BATHED in 500 years, you prick-”

“All right, all right,” Lucy hastily said, shoving Levy out the door, “At least take Freed with you while I deal with this.”

“I KNEW you’d understand!” Levy gushed, winking conspiratorially. “I’ll tell you everything when I get back.”

“Yeah, yeah- “

Lucy regretted her decision within the first ten minutes.

Not only was the ‘sleeping prince’ so abrasive to Gray that the half-naked man rushed out the doors - shouting about exploring the remnants of an aviary but without any tools in hand or a shirt much less -, but his obvious attachment to her meant she couldn’t move five feet without his immediate questions raining down on her.

Where are you going? Why are you pacing? Just what are you doing with those old books? How do any of these strange mechanisms work? Is it magic? Are you -  on and on the questions came until she’d all but given up on any work she could manage in the room. 

Sending a rueful glance back towards the door, she yearned for the chance to explore.

"Traitor," she muttered under her breath, thinking of Gray’s quick departure, envious of those free to work while she remained grounded by a child stuck out of time. Coming here had been a dream come true. Now, she was reduced to a mere lookout and babysitter to someone who shouldn't even be here.

The realization rankled her, nerves firing in agitation as an oddly quiet Natsu leaned heavily against the lawn chair they’d brought with them, and began to fiddle with the thin fabric of his clothes. The light tearing of the aged silk pulled Lucy’s attention back to him and watched him frown at the hole in his sleeve, disconcerted by the apparent state of his clothes.

“I guess this is just further proof then,” he grumbled, voice a morose contradiction compared to his earlier imposing attitude. “I’ve….. really been asleep for a long time, haven’t I?”His rueful expression, eyes filled with a doubt that replaced his earlier confidence, sobered Lucy, who examined his clothes curiously. 

While a statue, his clothes had been pristine, immaculate. However, unlike him, they had begun to match their age, slowly deteriorating to loose threads that became stiff and brittle. Noticing the one tear, led to her catching a glimpse of more littering his pants and tunic, making him look bedraggled rather than a noble. 

“We’ll have to get you some clothes,” she answered, and swatted his hand away from playing with the new found hole in his sleeve. “Stop that! Do you want to make it worse?”

“Oi,” he squawked, imperious gaze flicking to hers in offense. “Who said you can touch- agh, you know what? Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”  His ire died as quickly as it came, eyes revealing an exhaustion beyond his apparent years.

Well, that…was not expected. 

Gnawing her lip, she met his gaze, stubbornly refusing to give an inch as she examined the cloth. “It’s finely crafted. Or was, I guess. But, unless you want to be naked before we can find replacements, you’re going to have to get used to being told no, buddy.”

“Tch.. that’s hardly the issue.” Glancing towards the nearest wall, he frowned deeply, examining the room, shoulders slouched. “Igneel would hate this.”

“Who?”

“You know who.” He stressed, rolling his eyes in annoyance.  Pausing, he caught himself and backpedaled. “Wait, no. No you don't. You’re not her.” 

Sighing, he held his legs up against himself and grumbled. “The King. My…my dad. This was his office. He would have never allowed it to get like this.”

Lucy didn’t stop to think before the words were already tumbling from her mouth, “I don’t think the dead have much control over-”

The gaze he cast her way cut her off, the words dying in her throat as the blatant mourning that watered the edges of his green eyes. “You don’t get it.” He whispered, but she caught it all the same. It was a voice that desperately choked back a deep, consuming sorrow.

Oh. 

Shame filled the depths of her stomach like rocks. Swallowing thickly, she bit her lip, wincing as she turned her gaze away. She couldn’t look him in the eye. Not after that.

No one deserved such insensitivity, especially not an out-of-time Prince mourning the loss of everyone he once knew. “Sorry, that was…I worded that poorly.” 

There were questions burning at the tip of her tongue. What sort of king had his father been? Did the people love them? What could have possibly put the castle into such a state that no history books covered its existence? How had he become stone in the first place? The reality that set upon Lucy’s shoulders made her almost delirious and dizzy, but she reigned in the urge to submerge him in too many questions. His predicament confused her enough as is. She couldn't imagine herself in his shoes, trying to figure it all out only to be bombarded with a multitude of questions.

“Tell me about….Lucy.” She opted for this instead. To serve as some form of distraction. A safe question that still could give her something. He glanced at her, cocking a brow in confusion. “Obviously, I look a bit like her, and it sounds like we shared the same last name, but I was never told my family had nobility.”

She hadn't expected the weakened Prince to answer her, not after her thoughtlessness. She half expected his snappy mood to return full force, but he took the distraction with ease. His lips pulled into a frown as he mulled over the question. “Her hair’s longer by a lot, but usually she had it up in a lot of braids and in some kinda thing the maids called a…snead?”

Lucy, mystified by his choice in words, decided he certainly didn’t mean the shaft or handle of a scythe. “You mean a snood?”

“Yeah, that. I saw her take it off once, complaining it gave her headaches. I couldn’t figure out how she didn’t accidentally sit on her hair when it was down. It was that long.” He shrugged, eyes glancing over her in one fell swoop, looking for other differences. 

“She visited a lot, being the daughter of a Duke and all. He came to call constantly, discussing business with my father. She was… uh…" Scratching the back of his head, his expression became uncertain, eyes clouded over from the memories, “I think we were… friends?”

“Isn’t that something you’d usually know?” she prompted, watching the myriad of emotions that flickered behind his narrowed eyes.

“It’s complicated," he grimaced. "Her dad wanted us to get married, but uh, we knew each other since we were kids, so it was strange.”

“Sounds perfectly normal for royalty and nobles.” But also awkward, she thought, considering they were discussing a girl that looked exactly like her, but she kept that to herself.

“Maybe, but he also tried to marry her off to every other lord in the area.”

Now it was her turn to grimace. “I may love history, but that’s the one thing that always bothered me. Please tell me he didn’t try to make her marry some old dude.”

He snorted, “Just their sons. Not that they are any better.”  She chose not to comment on his use of present tense. 

That was a relief. Somewhat. “So, was she interested in any of them?”

That question spurred an odd expression to stiffen his features.

He shifted restlessly, took another look around the room, and unexpectedly jumped to his shaky feet. When he almost fell into her, she sprang to her feet, balancing him from the side. Her voice raised in pitch , but he didn’t respond, just looked towards the exit as if the stale air was suffocating.

“You wanted to explore more, didn’t you?” he asked, the question tumbling from his lips once it became clear she wasn’t about to let him go off on his own. “How about we get some air? I’ll behave. Honest.”

Lucy wasn’t sure how much she could trust that statement, but found it hard to deny him. After all, he was right. She did want to see the rest of the grounds, and if Levy wouldn’t let her go with, then why not take him along on her own venture?

“Sure. If we go far enough, we might be able to find some spare clothes for you.” They may get lucky along the way and find a few of Gray's things scattered about the path. And if that didn't pan out she was certain they left behind extra items in the van. - but how would this embodiment of ‘blast from the past’ react to a horseless carriage?  She giggled at the thought.

At Natsu’s questioning stare, she waved him off. Glancing back towards the makeshift camp they’d made for themselves. Freed and Levy would be gone for hours and knowing Gray, he’d find other things to keep his interest before having to return. It was possible they’d return before the others knew of their venture. To be safe, Lucy moved to jot down a note, hastily leaving it tacked to the front of her own tent. There, now they won’t be confused if they return first! Lucy mentally cheered her own quick thinking and marched back to the doors, gesturing for the Prince to follow. 

If she noticed the knitted brow and curious stare he gave in response, she didn’t bring it up.

The trip was slow going.

With uneven floors tripping Natsu up every other shaky step, he caused Lucy to stumble with him as he clung to her like a cane. The two barely made good time. Down the decrepit halls they ambled.The dusty, moth-eaten paintings stole Lucy’s attention, gazing in wonder at the crumbling canvases while Natsu frowned, irritated by their poor state. He’d stop in his tracks for each one, muttering furiously about their original details lost to the ages, before moving on faster than Lucy was ready, only to curse when he toppled over his feet all over again. It was a repeating pattern and Lucy suspected, with a heavy pang in her chest, that anger was easier to express than the grief that dragged his shoulders down. 

They came across other passageways or doors leading to old, caved-in rooms and he’d peek his head around the corner or through the doorways with a crinkle of his nose, unimpressed by the scent of rotting wood and dust. Lucy tried to pick his brain, asked if he remembered the rooms and what they used to be. Each time he’d answer, but his replies were often distant and  hollow, unsure as he failed to grasp the foggy memories. 

She got the impression he wouldn’t have had much more to say either. His mind was weak on more than just his sleeping arrangements, as if memories fell from his mind in fractured pieces he couldn’t fit back together. Each new attempt to recall his past formed an irritated tick in his forehead and his scowl took a near-permanent residence on his face.

“You were asleep for a very long time,” Lucy consoled when he failed to remember what she could only assume was a drawing room for guests. “Maybe you just need some more time for it to come back to you?”

This didn’t mollify him as much as she hoped, but he nodded nonetheless, stubbornly pushing from her shoulders to traverse the entry hall on his own, hand causing a trail of dust as he steadied himself against the wall. She resisted the urge to chase him. Perhaps it was better to let him stand on his own until he no longer could.

“None of this looks right,” he grumbled, his mounting frustration evident. The Prince paused halfway through the hall to stare at a fallen chandelier resting lamely on its side. It was larger than he was tall, once pristine crystals yellowed with age, but the rusted metal still held onto a hint of its former opulence as hints of gold peeked through the decay.“Five hundred years…has it really been so long?” The whisper stuck in his throat as though the realization finally sank in now that the evidence lay crumbling before him. She wasn't sure if he meant for her to hear him.

“We didn’t lie about the current year,” she answered, almost offended. “But we all agreed that this place looks good considering its age. You’d think it wouldn’t be this sturdy anymore.”

“Guess that just shows how great the architects were in my time,” he boasted, a confident grin finally lighting up his once dark expression. Unfortunately, she noticed it didn’t reach his eyes.

Exhaling a sharp laugh, Lucy peeked out the large, creaky, double doors that barely hung on their single hinges, and spied the outer courtyard with a soft smile.

It was devoid of buildings , but she could see where each statue once belonged, where each bush had been carefully tended to. Just imagining what it looked like back in its heyday filled her with an enchanted awe. 

“Sure, we can go with that.” She answered his boast with a poor attempt to mask her condescension. His pride in his own home was endearing, she could admit, but she truly didn’t think the slow aging of the castle had anything to do with the architecture. 

He tsked, catching the tone, but held off on replying. He moved to join her instead, leaning over her to look into the yard. While he carefully stepped around the doors, Lucy thought she saw his body waver despite the strong, confident steps he took. A shimmer went over his form becoming translucent and fading in places. For a moment he looked as he truly should be, a ghost out of time traversing his fallen grounds. The millisecond she took to blink in surprise, the effect disappeared and he looked as fine as he could be. Perfectly normal, despite the odd circumstances. 

“I’ll say this much,” He stated, pulling her from her confused observation, “it smells way better out here.” He inhaled deeply, emphasizing his point.

“It’s a courtyard, it’s supposed to smell nice.” His light  expression darkened to a spoiled pout by her tacit reply. “It’s probably not supposed to smell like dried flowers, though,” She added. 

“Still way better than dust!” Her exclamation was met with a chuckle from him and their trek through the broken paths became far more relaxed than before.

With Natsu no longer barking orders and demanding assistance, his demeanor was slowly becoming more tolerable. At times, she noticed, he was oddly cute, but when he’d look at a broken statue, or back to the empty windows and heave a sigh, it left her feeling hollow, unsure where to even begin to help him.

From a distance, he still resembled the statue she’d come across. There was something so distinctly ancient about him despite barely looking older than herself. It was evident now as he explored the courtyard. He almost merged with the environment, part of it but still puzzlingly separated all at once.

The palpable grief in his eyes was a mirror she understood all too well, but couldn’t bring herself to voice.

Circumstances that made her feel caught up in a whirlwind, and the urge to share her own personal life was just as jarring. She stamped those feelings down and followed him through to the stone wall that towered above the grounds, separating the castle from the surrounding forest. 

“Now, this is definitely not right.” Natsu's voice broke through her reverie, brows knitting together in consternation. “Wouldn’t there still be signs of a city here or something?”

“Nature can be quick at retaking ground when people aren’t there to hold it off anymore.” She pointed out, but her answer left him unsatisfied. Though she tried to hide it, she couldn’t conceal her own bafflement. “But it is weird that it didn’t overtake the castle, too.”

“Augh, this is so confusing. I don’t like it!”

Lucy was compelled to agree. Looking for the busted gateway she and her peers had come through days before, she spied their van and other vehicles parked further down. There had been no direct road, though what once had been a road in ancient history still split the forest and kept the trees at bay just enough to drive down smoothly. Almost as if this Mystical Castle had purposefully made their trip easy. 

The most important equipment had already been brought inside, but left behind in the confines of Gray’s truck, Lucy knew exactly what to look for. Spying the silhouette of a forgotten duffle bag, still upright in the passenger seat, she pointed in triumph. 

“Yes! I knew it'd still be there!”  His penchant for forgetting clothes would be a win in her book this time around. He looked a similar height to Natsu, so there was bound to be something inside they could use. Gray would complain all night when he realized where his spare clothes went, but it's better than having Natsu near naked around their encampment.  “Follow me!”

Natsu’s questioning confusion went ignored as she darted through the gate, oblivious to the sudden temperature drop or the way all sounds from the castle courtyard dulled when she passed. She couldn’t hear the crunch of Natsu’s steps behind her or the birds that once sang from the overgrown bushes. There was the truck and only the chilling wind as Lucy approached, excitedly fishing her spare keys from the pocket of her pants. 

She knew he wouldn't understand what vehicles were and she expected the Prince to follow her lead, curiosity and amazement urging him to inspect the large machines with the same fervor that he inspected everything else. If she had the time to consider, she could have offered to show him how they work. That enough would occupy his mind for hours  and she wouldn't mind answering his assault of questions. But that could be saved for later. Swinging open the truck’s door, Lucy cheered as she retrieved the duffle bag, brandishing it over her head.

Only then did she notice the silence.

Gripping the bag tightly, Lucy bit her lip, a strange form of apprehension crawling along her skin that rose in the back of her throat.

She didn’t hear Natsu.

No demands for explanation. No snarky response to her exclamations, no ambling footsteps, nothing. A part of her expected to turn around and find him still stumbling after, slowed by his weakened limbs with a snarky retort waiting for her on his tongue, but even then, she couldn’t catch the shuffling through the waving grass. With a start it struck her also couldn’t sense the looming fortress she knew was behind her. 

As if nothing was there, but that couldn’t be right.

It wasn’t right.

Lucy swallowed.The strange sense of foreboding that took over a sour tang that left her mouth dry as she spun to view the gateway, hoping her paranoia was just that.

Of course it would be, she told herself. The spoiled Prince would be there waiting, leaned up haughtily against the gateway or on the ground after falling, stubbornly dragging himself back up to fall again. She’d help him up, apologize and- 

What greeted her wasn’t what she imagined.

The Castle still stood, picturesque in its faded brilliance and the gateway looked the same as ever.

Except for Natsu, struggling to stand by the entrance with a hand outstretched to reach her. His mouth was moving hurriedly, shouting something she couldn’t hear. In fact, she couldn’t catch the tones of his voice in any capacity. As if he’d been muted by a remote. But Lucy couldn’t keep her attention. Her feet took her back to the gate and Lucy noticed more and more the odd stance Natsu took, clawing desperately at the grass. His eyes were wide, filled with terror, his fingers still as stone as his feet scraped against the ground helpless in his attempt to pull himself back as his body worked against him.

This wasn’t right. Something was off. She sprinted back, the duffle bag forgotten by her feet once she grasped the fingers reaching towards her, just inches passed the gate. 

“Lucy! what's- what is this? What's happening?” Natsu finally reached her, his voice sounding far away despite their proximity, it wavered as he struggled and Lucy placed her fingers against his, recoiling when she felt the frozen chill of stone. 

“What’s happening to you?!”

[prince-kallisto]

ngl i did not like the crowley-levan theory when i first heard about it, i just thought it sounded too silly and i wasn't convinced by the evidence i had seen for it. but by now, you and my other crowley enthusiast friend have made me like it on the basis of 1) it would be absolutely hilarious because of what it would mean for malleus, lilia, and meleanor and 2) some of the evidence is pretty sus actually... there's so much i hadn't thought about before seeing you post about it, that actually does seem to line up in a really odd way. even if it turns out to not be true, it would still make for a fun AU to explore!

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ awww, thank you!! Haha, I remember when I first started posting about this theory several months ago, I was pretty casual about it. But my constant analyzing of Crowley made me realize how there’s so many, perhaps too many, things about him that are rather strange 🧐🧐🧐 His character is purposefully easy to underestimate and almost written to be forgettable- but I’m on the case! o(｀ω´ )o It’s funny how after months of constantly analyzing him, there is no concrete answer to what he’s actually up to. It feels like throughout the game, there is a trail of crumbs leading to…something about him. Maybe not necessarily the Levan theory, but he’s definitely more than what he wants the player to believe him to be.

I think the biggest thing that helped this theory survive for as long as it has is the vagueness surrounding Levan. We don’t even know if he’s alive or not, and I am suspicious that we yet to receive even a silhouette of him despite mentioning him periodically! Meleanor received a silhouette when she was first mentioned, and many other TWST parents at least get a silhouette too. So why didn’t he…unless we already have one???? 🤪🤪🤪🤪 Just kidding! The point is, that both Crowley and Levan being really vague doesn’t help with anything regarding theories. I don’t even know the next time we’ll get more crumbs about him due to Lilia’s dream ending in the latest update.

And I’m being really honest- I’m okay if this theory isn’t canon! \(//∇//)\ Sure, I would really, really like it to be, but I also have faith that TWST can tell a really satisfying story for both Crowley and Levan regardless. There’s clearly something to be told with Crowley, and I’m really excited to see where TWST will take his character. I just want to see Crowley in the main game again lol 😭 I have a lot of fun thinking about this theory, but I don’t want to pressure anyone into liking or believing in it ^_^ Above all, I just value politeness when being interacted with- I’m not a stranger to receiving some rather scathing comments due to this theory, which surprised me! :0 But it’s okay, I’m just happy to share my thoughts with everyone and that others are having fun with it too 💖🐦‍⬛

I have so many more theories up my sleeve, and I’m so excited for Crowley’s card to drop, because my blog will definitely get hectic because of all the new lines to dissect 🤣

[crappy-lei]

this book, i mean this goddamn book.

i was reading "a little life" from the time i was feeling isolated and also not feeling anything actually. i truly underestimated and expected this book to be awful, considering it was 'overrated/hyped'. i was casually skimming til i finished the chapter one first section of the book, eventually i wanted to stop because it was just that good and i don't feel like ending it too soon. i thought about how i wanted to linger on this book as long as i can, if it meant reading and sticking around with these lovely sad characters and their not-so-little stories—to somewhow arouse a feeling in me and it feels like spending time with this book were like choosing to remain yourself on a complex relationship and as well as it feels like having a deep friendship and creating an intense connection or intimacy with someone close from home that you've been longing to love or idk.

this extremely weird attachment i'd developed within this book, i think t'was the sense of comfort and relief that i'm unconsciously relying on even tho i'm simultaneously perceiving the subtle joy and pain from the sadness itself.

and that's when i decided to read another book (daisy jones and the six which i unexpectedly hated it & the seven husbands of evelyn hugo like wow it was so good) that would kill my time by idle reading that would alter and forget this current novel i'm reading in order to reread again the first chapter and cost my time to restore those wholesome feelings that would feel like the first time. yeah i'm that desperate twat that would do everything to relive the nostalgia sensation. i've repeatedly visited the two chapters thrice and third chapter twice. still can't get over how disturbed and anxious i was that night when i was reading the half of chapter three - third section.

this is the kind of story you are expected to encounter all the saddest and traumatic moments so painfully numb to the point you won't cry for it which tears are solely reserved for the happy moments you'd wished for granted. crying for the small things is much more agonizing.

slowburn stories will always be my favorite and this one really tested my patience to the fullest. i mean it took 512 pages to see the characters finally- haha

page 690 u crushed my heart and it felt like its about to burst.

"dear comrade" wtf then "lispenard street' i've never ever brought some tissues while reading—in my entire experience. literally got nothing to say and i'm not even exaggerating.

feeling overwhelmed everytime i continue to read the remaining chapters, it was like this book was a reminder of my rigid life: constant pressures, collections of what-if's, things i should've and could've done while i'm still young and figuring shit out and sieze the youth energy in me but really at this age i'm already filled with solemn regrets in the sense of nostalgia, and again it feels like i'm having parallel feelings and visions of myself when i turn 30 and this story will be destined to mine. it is truly difficult to read but it has this little comfort i'm craving for myself or from someone i've been pining to attain but couldn't and this book provided the lack of emotions, social connections, and more specially this intense detachement i've been experiencing.

all i could think about is jb, mal, andy, harold, and mainly jude and willem. feels like the book is still not over yet, felt like their stories are still running in my head and i wanted to keep and them and feel their presence as long as i wanted and i'd cry for them but at this point i'm dead inside and i missed them already.

it's been 24hrs since i've finished the book and i still think about them. i tried to sleep the sadness off but still i was dreaming about them. i can't get them off my mind, i'm trying to put into words to somehow point out the aftereffects so that i could deal something regarding to this shitty feeling but til now i couldn't describe everything i'm feeling. it's not the trauma that stays with me, it's the characters in the story. albeit they're fictional but they were like my friends already; given the short time i've spent with them felt like years. they are so alive in my mind even though some of them actually died in the story but idk it is just weird that i'm a college dropout yet it seemed likw i was having the best college experience i've never had while i was reading and since i've reached the end, it left me feeling empty with all those years i've endured and suffered with jude, harold, willem, jb, andy, mal and even julia were already gone and now it seemed like i'm entering my 30's still lost like how lost i was in my 20's but the difference is this is the real adulting phase, a life not existing in a book without them and i could never ever restore those friendships again, i could never have those people; that kind of bond; that sense of belongingness and connection were eventually aging. it haunts me everytime considering that it really reflects the reality i'm living in. ever since i've finished the book, i'm not prepared to go back and be in the present and let the current life happens to me. all the emotions becoming resonant, echoing its sadnesses and peaknesses of life. but now i wanted to reel in for the company of the lows not with the highs and let them feel through my insides until it becomes fortitude as jude said at some point in his darkest moments. i really missed them and my friends from home. it is fucked up when u realized you are more alone than you think it was. i wish i could have something like them the four of them.

[titleknown]

KAIJUNE NEO: MR BRIGHTSIDE

First of all, I want to tell you, this was not at all my fault. If they'd have listened, if they'd have gone along with the fucking plan, none of this would have happened.

The stupid thing wasn't even alive when they brought it to me. But, even I will humbly admit, it was ingredients of high quality. Primeval flesh frozen by time and strange vapors, the tools of the United States government, the very eitir of the earth...

...Yes, I refuse to call it liquid God. Beyond the apellation of false notions of divinity, it isn't just one thing, there are nuances I would be willing to explain if I believed you had the capacity to understand it. But I digress.

Now, there were initial setbacks. There were the few interlopers, who suggested that I was ethically unfit for this project, that the resource expendatures could be better-used to prevent the beasts out there culling the expendable hordes, that the whole idea of the creation of one of these creatures was deranged vanity project. 

Luckily, the people providing the resources were of like minds, even if their sights was far too low. Leave it to the US military to avoid pretensions of compassion when they see a work to be compleated.

It was going well, at first. Why, I hadn't had this much of a fruitful field since my time with the Blue Rose! They let me be, they didn't say no, and I hadn't had this much access to subjects since... well. The Blue Rose.

I will tell you, it's far easier to test the processes of life and power when they know enough to let you use a few expendables, unlike some idiots.

And then one of these puritanical SHITHEADS had to break in for one of my subjects. I don't even know what the fuss was about, I'd already used up the one he was looking for. And the idiots didn't even shoot him! Just now you get cold feet?! Just now?!

And now it is awake. And ungrateful. What's wrong you giant oaf, I thought you were a god-being, lashing out like a child over a little pain is pathetic!

At least the combative capabilities were functional, as evidenced by the plasma "fires" they still failed to put out. A small blessing, amongst the carnival of incompetence as my handlers failed to handle it.

They use the pretense to call me a creature of hubris, a terminal miles glorosius. They underestimate my skill. 

They even had the gall to call me a Faustian figure, how fucking dare! I would never make a deal with anything I couldn't cut the throat of and sip the juices from their neck.

And I will regain control over this creature, and I will enact my special plan for this world. For who is greater, God or the chymist who built God in a bottle...

-The notes of professor Thomas F. Johnson

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

...So, when starting this I knew I was going to have to have some variety of dinosaur here. Lucjkily I found this cheapo toy at the Swap Meet and, as you can see, heavily modified it. This one out of all of them was one of my favorite models in terms of how it came out, I will say.

I basically picked the name of the poor tormented thing because I just thought Mr Brightside by The Killers sounded like a neat name for a kaiju, also the neon-on-black color scheme was probably a part of it.

If you're wondering why the profoundly evil professor (Who was heavily influenced by Dr Pretorius from Bride of Frankenstein and Jeffrey Combs' Herbert West, for the record) has my name, they're actually a pre-existing character from my Creepypasta Creatures of the Woods, who I made the choice to give my own name despite him being hilariously far from me. 

Again, like Devlin, this is this universe's version of the guy, not the exact same guy... maybe. It's always hard to tell with that jerk...

Ability Notes: One word: Plasma. Of all kinds and horrors, usually sort of a weird electrical fire-y green, though the fact that he's in constant pain makes it hard for him to focus on channeling it beyond wanton destruction. It's theorized where he mentally coherent, he could potentially output pulsar levels of power.

Bonus Trivia: If you want to know Professor Johnson's backstory, just watch the Behind the Bastards episodes about Scott Adams and note what they say about the man's early pre-Dilbert life. Now imagine he'd gone into mad science and things had... escalated.

And, in that grand (exceedingly late) Kaijune tradition, this character and all related narrative elements are under a CC-BY 4.0 license, as long as I, Thomas F Johnson, am credited as their creator. 

[behindthewox]

WoE part 1, the criticism

With a dozen WoE anons in my inbox, some very long and some repeating what's already been said, I decided to take the most relevant bits and pieces and make a summary instead of posting all of it in one massive block of opinions and feelings. This post is the first part, focusing on the criticism.

When reading, keep in mind that there's a second post with praise and appreciation over the same people addressed in this post. Criticism evokes feelings, and a good judgement should be based on rational thought. Keep an open mind and read both before you make up your mind about what you think about this.

Anon A, pt 1 I joined World of Elements as a result of the constant advertisement from most servers I was on. I don't like to constantly ramble but I feel as though the people voicing their concerns about the server are completely right. [...] For a start, there are very many users on the server who aren't respectful and considerate of your abilities and boundaries. This is aimed at both non-management and management. I think it's quite disappointing to say this but the staff on the server, have made me feel unwelcome. [...] Users being told there characters aren't good enough and staff going out of their way to let users know of this saddens me very much.

_ _ _

Anon B I agree, I'm a user who has only joined recently but it's pretty obvious the MoM and another staff member are really close which makes it very awkward when being on site. [...] World of Elements has also gone though a lot of drama although it's very new. Staff members are all telling you off at the same time which makes you feel targeted.

Never underestimate the importance of basic respect, consideration and positive attitudes, and never underestimate the damage of the opposite. This sort of social skills take some learning, but people won't learn unless there are clear guidelines to follow and good role models to look up to and learn from.

It's not easy to treat old friends and new strangers equally, you will be closer to your old friends and there will be inside jokes and banter that is part of that relationship. That's fine when it's just the old friends, but when there are other people involved that has to be put aside. An inside joke than only some people get makes the others feel excluded.

Again, it takes some learning to recognise your behaviour and be self aware enough to recognise when you're doing something that may make others feel excluded.

Anon C, pt 1 Someone stated to be patient with new servers, when it is still the WoX community. There should be an understanding of how to treat users and there should be an understanding of when and how to deal with certain situations. Rules are there for a reason. [...] A new server does not mean that staff members are new to the positions. Many of them have been around WoX for years and should understand when they're out of line. Staff, above everything, should be role models and they are severely lacking that when users are confused or hurt. Some staff members use AI for their notice boards, and others create situations with passive aggressiveness, sending users to react in a certain way, then causing that user to seem out of line and have even more people push it. The idea has potential, but the staff, so far, from what I've seen, does not.

_ _ _

Anon D You can not hold your friend up on a pedestal and treat the ‘normal users’ differently. You cannot allow behaviour in your friends, that you would not in normal users. That is not how it works.

What might help is to bring in an outsider whose job is to point out when this happens and nudge everyone towards a more equal conversation. And set up some guidelines for general behaviour and how to practise authority without being a prick.

Everyone deserves a chance to learn and better themselves, so let's give them the time to do that.

I'm ending this with the more personal opinions and accusations, the stuff that probably stings the most. Just remember, opinions are opinions and the statemtens might not be factually correct. Keep other people's judgements in mind, but always make your own if you can.

Anon A, pt 2 My final issue is with the MoM herself. Which I find has been the main issue with the server. Not only has she gone out of her way to make people I appreciate feel unwelcome and an overall disturbance to her journey with this server but she has not acted professionally and done what is expected of her. I'm fairly new to wox but I know this is not the sort of behavior you would expect of someone to be a possible head of site. She claims to be "open to criticism" yet she doesn't take it well. Instead, she continues to degrade users and make them feel less of their worth.

_ _ _

Anon C, pt 2 Admittedly, I feel like the MoM is close with some staff members and they know more than others. This should NEVER be how sites are ruled. [...] I really fear more things will happen if there's not some serious change, whether this is a change in staff or a change in behaviour is up to the MoM and HM, but if there is no change, I can assure you that the site won't even last.

[mycryptidisqueererthanyours]

WIP progress update

Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, I thought I would be done by now. I though, 'oh, this'll be cute. A little fucked up because I live for messed up character dynamics but short and sweet.' I underestimated the task I chose to subject myself to.

I have working on this for approximately 2 months. My Google document is now 29 pages long. I want to die /j

And I feel bad for the like five people who saw and liked my other post about my upcoming fic as this taking forever (I feel worse for my followers on Reddit; I've had a few ideas for things but nothing I've started properly writing out, poor sods). So, I'll be including another couple of snippets, the fanfic's title and a possible AU idea.

The fanfic itself is called A Star Is Just A Black Hole Waiting To Happen ([Redacted] x Recovering!Yandere) and it is a yan x yan pairing.

Here are a few more snippets to tide anyone over that actually wants to read this lol

---------

I hacked Teo’s Tesla and drove it into Lake Bluemoss.

Bullshit.

‘I did. Hold on…’ He fished his phone out his pocket and, after a few moments of inaudible muttering and tapping away, he turned it so they could see. Sure enough, displayed proudly on the screen was a picture of a half-submerged car in a lake, taken from relatively far away, with what looked suspiciously like a surprisingly panicked Teo in the background. ‘Told you,’ he crowed, triumphantly. 

----------

They reached up and carefully carded calloused fingers through his hair, revealing dark roots peeking through. Your poor hair. It must be fried to Hell and back. Please tell me you use coconut oil or-. Aster’s heart thundered in their throat, as [Redacted] leaned into the sensation, eyes fluttering shut. He gently gripped their wrist, holding them there. A silent plea for them to stay. A plea they couldn’t bring themself to refuse. Instead, all they could do was huff in amusement. Something. You really are like an overgrown cat, you know that? He said nothing, only nuzzling into them further.

And then suddenly, he pitched forward. Only for you. He burrowed themself against their shoulder, breath ghosting against their neck. Only ever f’you.

They leaned their head against his, fingers idly toying with the baby hairs on the nape of his neck. I know. I know.

---------

How did you want to crush her? He goaded. He was greedy. He needed to hear this.

Their lips curled in displeasure and, in the low gloom, their grimace looked like it was filled with blood-rimmed teeth.

‘I wanted to throttle her. Maybe slam her head into the fucking concrete.’ There was something bright and brilliant and vicious in their eyes, blazing like a supernova, as their nails dug into his cardigan. Spittle and acid pooled in their mouth. Before their eyes widened with realisation and they composed themself again. They bowed their head to hide their face, as they felt it heat up and crumple in embarrassment. Horror and shame curled in their stomach at their sudden outburst. ‘Sorry.’ (fix)

Don’t apologise, he soothed. His tone was agonisingly warm and promised patience as dauntless and unending as the void. It made Aster’s head hurt. Y’have nothing to apologise f’r. You know I would do the same for you.

(They stared at his jumper, the cable knit pattern suddenly deeply fascinating. Knitting had never made sense to them. Nor had he.

-----------

And an AU idea: I'm thinking of writing a Magnus Archives!AU, with [Redacted] being an avatar of the Spiral. I was originally thinking the Web, given his manipulative tendencies and canonical liking of spiders, but I think the Spiral would be more in line with canon abilities. These include distorting his appearance, the world around him and the overall narrative. He doesn't merely manipulate, he deceives. So, it seems like a better fit but feel free to disagree. Instead, maybe he can be deeply marked by the Web (and possibly the Eye, given his whole thing for surveillance cameras and keeping constant tabs on Angel) as a little treat :)

I am really sorry this is taking way longer than I expected. I hope this doesn't disappoint anyone when it comes out, even if it is just because of wait time alone lol Or shitty writing. More likely shitty writing.

[chaoticgeminate]

Kinktober 2022 - Chapter Thirty One

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit (If that was not entirely clear)

Series Summary: You’re a fanfiction writer turned novelist, which was great since it was the path you wanted your writing to take you down in life. What you never thought would happen was meeting the Javier Gutierrez, who you actively write smutty fanfiction about from his film with Nic Cage, and you especially didn’t expect him to have a crush on you.

Fast forward several months of dating, with a good chunk of your relationship being distance due to his constant traveling and having to go home to Mallorca, when he surprises you with a prompt list and a vacation planned around exploring it.

You haven’t even worked up the nerve to tell him about what you write and post to Tumblr about him as a character yet.

Notes: Going to be using prompts from @the-purity-pen for my meta as hell indulgence! There are feelings in this (I have no idea how they got there) and I may end up removing some possible chapters here and there depending on how I’m feeling, I apologize in advance if that happens because my brain is super mean sometimes.

Possible Warnings: Squirting, toys (butt plug), fooling around between trick or treaters (not advised EVER under any real circumstances this is FICTION for a reason), unprotected PiV

Free Choice - Toys (1.5k)

Underestimating Javi’s ability to source things was something you still found yourself dressed as Sally while Javi adjusted his bat bowtie, you’d chosen to forgo the full make-up and instead used eye pencil to draw the stitch lines on your skin and put on the shockingly bright red wig that looked like it was made from thread rather than synthetic hair. Red lipstick completed your look and you turned to see study your fiancé again; he’d gone full white make-up with dark black rings around his eyes with the extended lines at his lips, and since so much of his blazer was open, he’d made sure to bring the white all the way down.

Javi left his hair alone, the shape of his facial hair standing out under the white make-up, but otherwise he’d done a good job with the coverage of it. Your apartment had been decked out in a last-minute explosion of decorations, red shiny garland with fake cobwebs strung between candy canes lined your entryway where the door was left open to allow people inside.

Using command hooks to attach them to the wall you had Christmas lights fixed in place but in the shape of spider webs, it had taken ages to get them to not only work but stay where you wanted them to, and everything of value was already stashed away while the television had a horror ambiance soundtrack playing and Javi finished putting up the last of the fake cobwebs.

With the lights off and the only lighting coming from the Christmas lights your apartment looked like a void zone of Halloween and Christmas, the mini projectors with the ghosts from Nightmare Before Christmas on the walls added to the last-minute décor and you loved all of it.

All night you got compliments from parents, awed remarks from kids, and between groups you and Javi teased each other or talked depending on what door In the building the next group of kids were at.

“Solecita it is hardly 4 are you sure the kids will be showing up?” “Yes, Javi, they’ve been starting the Trick or Treating earlier and earlier.”

“Did you see the Transformer costume? He was such a cool little Bumblebee!” “Perhaps next year we should aspire to go grandiose, mi amor, I could have fun planning a large event at the olive grove.”

“Fuck- Javi they’re next door.” “You were so close, Solecita, lo siento.” “Gloves on, Skeleton King.”

“Is someone upset?” “You are a wicked tease, when you said you wanted to see how good the lipstick looked on me I thought you meant-“ “Well you’re wearing white make up Javi, only choice to indulge would be to shade check in other places and there are children coming in and out.”

“I want one.” “Solecita-“ “She was so cute, Javi!” “I am allergic, but we could get a dog?” “Okay, that’s fair.”

When the last of the candy was gone -your custom modified Christmas chocolate mixed with Halloween treats proving to be a big hit- you and Javi put the sign up on the door saying you were out before deciding clean up would happen tomorrow. Heading right for your too small bathroom together, though Javi went to the sink first to get as much of the white makeup off as he could before he got under the water stream.

You were nearly done and getting out, since the shower was barely able to fit him comfortably on his own, and Javi caught your hand to pull you in for a searing kiss first.

Focusing more on drying than dressing, since there was little point, you felt a little tremor of excitement shoot through you at wondering how Javi would react to your surprise. It had been fun to slip away during set-up to get a plug in, how he hadn’t noticed when he’d slipped his hand up your dress between groups you would never know, but it meant more fun for you when he find it.

A rather fun idea made you giggle and lay back on the  so you were propped on the pillows, moaning softly when you began to let one hand glide down your body. The soft touch made you shiver as you imagined him hearing you and rushing through the rest of his shower, wondering if he would surrender control it take it.

Your next breathy sound was louder, loud enough that he definitely heard you since the water cut off.

“Solecita, what do you think you are you doing?”

His tone was sharp and deep, you looked up at him through hooded eyes as he stood in the doorway. You met his stare with a look of defiance and whimpered as you slipped your fingers down through your folds, earning a small sound not unlike a growl from him as he watched you part your lips for him. Letting him see how wet you were, see the shine of your arousal as it leaked down your slit.

His nostrils flared when your hips rolled up, as you circled your clit, and Javi crossed the room in maybe three strides to snatch your hand away from your body and roll you over onto your stomach. You felt him discover the plug, the way he gasped out a soft “bebita” before he was picking your hips up and pressing your upper body into the mattress, and since the last time you were in this position he had been driving into you with the intent to breed you… you clenched around nothing with a whine.

“Javi-“

“Look at you. So wet already, but you seemed happy to take care of yourself. You even have something to fill you here.” He pressed against the base of the plug, making you try to rock back for more of the sensation.

“Wanted t’ surprise you-“

“Oh, I am surprised, bebita. But I don’t want to interrupt your fun, I just wanted a better view. Go ahead, make yourself cum.”

He grabbed your hand, the one he’d pulled away, and lifted it to cup your pussy, urging you to continue what you were doing; your desperate little whine and the way your hand slipped through your folds with a wet sound had your knees widening as you rocked down against the press of your fingers.

Javi watched you touch yourself, and you could feel how close he was to you by his breath on your skin, the soft kisses to the backs of your thighs and the breathy little curses he was breathing against your skin when you would dip your fingers into your body to make sure you showed him just how wet and ready you were for him.

It was only when you were so close to that peak, when your breathing was erratic and you could feel it right there, that he slid his cock home; the fullness you felt of him and the plug was so much and you felt the hot rush of your orgasm soak him and your legs and definitely the sheets below. Javi didn’t even last two full thrusts before he was filling you, just as overwhelmed as you were feeling, and the two of you were left panting hard as your body trembled from the sensations.

“Fuck, you were so tight and wet- I couldn’t stop myself if I tried. Bebita, can you handle more?”

“Always, mi prometido.”

He grinned when you looked over your shoulder at him and when he moved again, he did it in a way that let him close his left hand over yours, allowing you to see your rings beside each other and catching the low lighting of your bedside lamp, and Javi pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Be careful, mi prometida, I am a greedy man.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He chuckled in your ear and ground himself inside of you, making you whimper.

“You can believe that I will keep all of my promises, Solecita, starting with the most important one of all. I promise to love you and be by your side from now until the end of eternity.”

He was such a fucking romantic, even buried in you like this, and you loved him so much for it.

“I promise to support you and love you and do anything in my power to make sure you have a reason to smile by my side, from now until eternity.”

Javi whimpered, a broken sound, and the tender way he rocked into you as he draped himself more onto your body was so all encompassing and perfect and you made sure he knew it.

“So good to me, Javi.” “Feels so amazing, the way you love me is always what I need.”

“You’re a good man cariño, I love you with all that I am.”

Javi’s choked off whimper in your shoulder, the feeling of his body going rigid and his balls drawing up, made you sure that for the rest of your lives and the rest of your eternity you would make sure he knew just how much you loved him and how glad you were that he had found you.

All Fics Taglist: @hardc0rehaylz @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @musings-of-a-rose @amneris21 @trickstersp8 @practicalghost @rominaszh @alwaysdjarin @alexxavicry @all-the-way-down-here

Just Pedro Taglist: @maievdenoir @beecastle @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms @AynsleyWalker @lovesbiggerthanpride @mswarriorbabe80

Alt Taglist: @imtryingmybeskar @fan-of-encouragement @grogusmum @sizzlingcloudmentality @deadhumourist @prostitute-robot-from-the-future

Kinktober Only: @nicolethered @katareyoudrilling

[piracytheorist]

I REALLY wish that we got a proper backstory for Ethan. No ordinary man would walk headfirst into danger like that, and I have to conclude that there was an incident or event in the past that made him so willing to get himself into these kinds of situations. He always puts other people before himself and we could've learned about what made him this way, but they killed him off instead.

I don't think the game implies there's anything special about Ethan's backstory before the games. Ethan was specifically made and written to be Just a Guy, where the lack of interesting backstory itself is what makes him interesting. He's one of us, we look at him and think "You poor bastard, what did you get yourself into?" and experience the horror with him. I don't play games (not for the lack of will), but I watch someone who does, almost every day, and in his playthrough of re8 it was one of the very few times I was thinking "It's okay Ethan, we're in this together." So I don't think there's any implication by the game that Ethan went through something that made him this way. Not that it's wrong for people to make their own theories, of course! It's fiction, we do what we want :)

That said, I feel that sometimes we underestimate what people can turn into if brought face to face with such dangers. Granted, in re7 the moment I saw the horse/cow/whatever it was leg art outside the guest house, I'd be running away to get at least a baseball bat or something before coming back. But I've also been in a situation where I was the only one able to take charge, and though the shock of it still hits me sometimes one whole year after the event, at the time I was able to stand my ground and do what I had to do, one of which was to help a loved one and make sure they're alright (it was nothing super tragic, but combined with the covid lockdown at the time it was even harder). I couldn't afford leaving them behind to go get supplies (like a flashlight; it was a complete black-out too) so I stayed and managed with what we had: candles. A few days ago a family member said I was very brave to handle that situation as I did, and sometimes I sit and think of that. We may think of ourselves as not-brave if we get scared by horror or thrillers, or even if we have phobias, but the human brain is unpredictable, and it all comes down to what reaction your brain will have; it's not cowardice or bravery, it's fight-flight-freeze. When faced with danger, your character traits have nothing to do with what your reaction will be.

So, considering the reason Ethan faced continuous dangers was to save someone he loved (both in re7 and in re8, more so in that one since Rose was a baby and couldn't defend herself), I don't think there was anything special about him implied. Just that his brain was on constant fight mode throughout the whole nightmare(s) and... again, my situation was nothing close to that (no human lives were actually put in danger) and it was much shorter, but I was also in constant "fight" mode, as in, do what had to be done and make sure my loved one was okay. Was it exhausting and traumatizing? Absolutely. But it was also human, from someone who gets super easily scared by horror. So I don't think Ethan has to have a special backstory for his actions in re7 or re8 to make sense. He was just a human who loved his family, and became determined to do what needed to be done to protect them. And trust me, that's way more realistic than you may think ;)

It's totally cool, though, if you think otherwise and want to come up with scenarios as to what made Ethan able to face such horrible nightmares. I'm just one person with one very slightly traumatic experience to draw a conclusion from, and since you asked me, I thought I could share my thoughts!

[jade-marie]

Heyyy. With all this supposed romantic jealousy and like you said ‘dick measuring’ game that Nick and Rio are playing, I think about the scene in the car after Beth got Rio arrested and Nick got him out. Rio said: “so what do you want to do about [Beth?] and Nick said “not what you want to do.” This scene makes it seem like they have a plan that they’re BOTH in on to deal with Beth. I’m at first I thought they were playing good cop/bad cop (I still think they are) but now Rio is clearly uncomfortable with Nick’s plan. What the fuck is going on because I am confused?

Also do you think the dynamic between Nick and Rio will become clearer by the finale? They seem to have a very complex relationship and wow, who would have thought utilising one of your best and most underused character that LITERALLY DRIVES THE WHOLE MAIN PLOT would make the show interesting again 🤔

Hi, doll! Ok, you’re gonna have to bear with me because my brain is messy at the best of times and I’ve had a non stop headache since yesterday morning, so making sense of my thoughts is hella difficult right now lol. I’m just gonna break this up into sections to help me keep track of everything!

P.s. I’m sorry this got long 🥴

Rio and Nick’s dynamic

So, from what we’ve seen so far, Nick is extremely narcissistic, manipulative, and selfish. In my opinion, he doesn’t really seem to have a very strong sense of self or morality, he just becomes whoever he needs to, in order to achieve the goal at hand. Whether it’s kissing ass at the golf club, playing politics, or having Rio thrown in jail/beaten with a stool. He’s always thinking about the long game, always about the bigger picture, he likes to use every situation/person to his advantage. He seems to have some sort of resentment and/or jealousy towards Rio and that comes out a lot in his desire to take from Rio. He took his dreams of being a boxing a boxer, his freedom, trivial stuff like the burger and the basketball. I also think he wants to take Beth but they’ve not made it clear in what capacity he wants to take her. Whether it’s because he’s clocked that Rio has/had genuine feelings for her, or because he thinks Beth is a business asset. Either way, he sees that Beth is a sore spot and he’s going to keep pushing as a way to exert power and feel like a man.

Rio, on the other hand, likes to see immediate results, and he can be pretty impulsive. He’s also very self-assured, he is who he is and he doesn’t change that for anyone. He literally has a giant tattoo across his throat which he displays proudly because he doesn’t care how anyone else sees him. But he has a natural charm and charisma that he can use when he needs it, without having to become a completely different person. I think he’s a very emotional person, regardless of how much he tries to hide it, which can make him pretty reactive to situations – see: basically every interaction with Beth.

They’re wildly different people and this would cause conflict in itself because they immediately want to handle situations differently, like with Annie being kidnapped. The girls owed him money, Rio was mad about it, and he wanted an immediate resolution to that problem, whereas Nick didn’t care so much about the short-term financial issues, in comparison to the long-term benefit to him of keeping Beth onside. Within their organisation, the structure is still kinda murky because he doesn’t seem to be the boss, but then he does and ehhh. Supposedly Rio handles all the illicit stuff and then Nick pushes through city contracts to shell corporations he owns and also makes money from that, as well as keeping Rio out of jail. The actual power imbalance between them still irks me because Nick is literally a councilman. He has no real clout. There’s no reason for him to have such a hold over Rio, especially when Rio knows exactly what Nick is and he also knows that Nick wouldn’t have dick without him. But I digress.

The conversation in the car

I definitely think that conversation is very relevant to what’s happening with Beth right now. In that moment, I think Rio wanted revenge, plain and simple but he was also thinking long term. I don’t think he was planning on going out to kill her, but that’s where Nick’s mind went because he severely underestimates how much of a “big picture guy” Rio can be hence telling Rio, “not what you want to do”. Presumably, there would’ve been a discussion between them off screen where Nick decided exactly what was going to happen and how they were going to use her. My guess is that going forward they were basically going to play a game of ‘good cop bad cop’. Nick offers himself up as the friendly local councilman, shows concern for Beth, helps her etc, while Rio is more menacing than ever. Rio is reluctantly going along with this plan because of the stupid power imbalance, but I think he’s got something up his sleeve. I think the discomfort we’re seeing from Rio stems from their difference in opinion on how to handle Beth, Rio chafing under Nick’s control and also the resentment Rio holds because of Nick’s constant routine of taking what’s his. I kinda spoke about it in this post.

Last time Beth got Rio arrested, he shot Dean - he’s not shy when it comes to payback. Typically, he’s always quite reactive to situations and that can (has) come to bite him in the ass but he knows this. He was there. He knows that every time he pushes Beth, she pushes back with equal force, so he needs to immobilise her. While Nick just wants to use Beth to benefit himself financially, by using her to push through contracts for shell corporations etc, I think Rio wanted to kill two birds with one stone. He can use Beth as a shield for his business and make money off her, then later on, I think he probably wants to use her to get rid of Nick and potentially let Beth go down with him as payback for her betrayal (at least, I think that was his original plan but he may soften to her and end up forming an alliance once Nick is out of the picture).

Romantic Jealousy?

As for the jealousy, it’s still not the word I’d choose to describe Rio. It probably fits, to a degree, but I always associate it with pettiness and wanting stuff you don’t have - i.e. Nick. With Rio, it feels more possessive over what he already has because he knows Nick wants to take it. This now extends to Beth because she was and is his, at least in a business sense. I don’t think he’s ever been particularly jealous of her in their personal relationship because neither of them ever truly gave into whatever it was. In business, she worked for him, she answered to him, if she needed help – she came to him, and he’s created that dynamic with Beth by keeping her isolated from his wider organisation. He was effectively trying to mentor her and make her in his image. Now, Nick comes along and suddenly Beth’s going to Nick for help, Beth’s doing what Nick says, and she’s looking to Nick as a mentor. So, once again, Nick is taking what belongs to Rio. That’s why I think he reacted the way he did in the strip club. He realised that he was about to lose to Nick again, and he wasn’t willing to let that happen, so he pulled out the ol’ carrot and stick. He took her money away as a punishment, made her think on her feet, and then rewarded her for a job well done. He showed her that she doesn’t need Nick because then Nick has no hold over her. He’s showing Beth that she can get shit done on her own, but also reminding her that he essentially made her what she is. He taught her. He believed in her. He asked her what she gained from being on the city council and doing what Nick tells her, knowing full well she gets fuck all out of it because he knows Nick. Then he gave her a reward to make ‘team Rio’ all the more appealing. Yes, there could well be some romantic feelings under that but I don’t think that’s what’s driving Rio right now. I think this is firmly about him and Nick, while Beth has become another toy for them to fight over.

[megsironthrone]

Torn Between Family

Based on this request:  Hello, would you write about a female Lannister reader that looks up to Tywin and wants to be just like him. She hast the same intellect as Tyrion and is Tywin’s favourite child. Though, she feels guilty because she loves her siblings and knows that Tywin underestimates Tyrion and Cersei. So she is always torn between her father and her siblings until she decides to take off and live as a hunter in the wilds in order to escape this. It needs Tywin, Tyrion and Cersei to take her back.

Here’s your fic! *Familiar Characters are NOT mine!*

Warnings: The Lannister family dynamic. A little family fluff??

Pairings/Characters: fem!Lannister reader, House Lannister

As the youngest Lannister, you were doted on. You were your father's favorite child and he didn't make it a secret. You appreciated that your father could show some sentiment, but you felt guilty all the same. While he doted on you, he was tough on Jaime. He also underestimated Cersei and clearly loathed Tyrion. Tywin was always comparing your siblings to you and to each other while they constantly complained about your father's treatment of them. You hated it as you loved them all, but you felt that you had to choose between your father and your siblings. You were torn.

         As you grew up, you felt like an outsider in your own family. You learned  strategy and hunting alongside your brothers as well as the skills all higherborn ladies were expected to know alongside Cersei. And you were close to your siblings, but your father's clear favor made you feel like you were betraying them somehow. And if you sided with your siblings, you felt like you were hurting your father.

         It got to the point where you decided that your family would be stronger without you. So, at the ripe age of 18 name days, you fled from Casterly Rock into the forest, determined to live off the land, hunting the way you'd been taught. You took none of your fineries with you. Only a little bit of gold to get you started and to commission some hunting gear better suited for a young lady.  You had no idea the turmoil your little idea had thrown Casterly Rock into.

         The next morning, the entire castle was abuzz with activity. When you had not appeared to break your fast, Tywin had sent a servant to check on you. You weren't in your chambers. Nor were you to be found in any of your usual haunts. Tywin was livid. How had the guards managed to let someone sneak passed them to get you out of the castle?! And furthermore, who had taken you in the first place?!

         "Father, perhaps the kidnapper left a demand for ransom in Y/N's chambers? Did the servant look?" Tyrion asked. Without waiting for a reply, he climbed down from his chair and made his way to your room as quickly as possible. Cersei and Jaime followed at his heels. Once inside, Tyrion looked in the first logical place for any type of parchment that may have been left behind.

         There, on your vanity was a note. But not from a kidnapper. "She wasn't taken. We need to get to Father." The three hurried back to Tywin, the elder two begging Tyrion to clue them in. "Y/N wasn't kidnapped," Tyrion said as soon as Tywin was within his sights. He gave him the note and Tywin read it out loud.

         "She just…ran off? So she wouldn't have to choose between us? Did anyone know that we made her feel that way?" Jaime asked in disbelief. Tywin pursed his lips. "So it seems. I certainly didn't. Granted, a daughter does not share much in the way of feelings with her father." Cersei shifted a little bit but nodded. "We need find her. Don't we?" Tywin agreed and Jaime offered to stay behind. "She listens more to you three. And someone should stay here. To make certain things run smoothly."

         "I agree. Perhaps then you will get the thought of knighthood out of your mind when your sister marries the king in three moons." Jaime grimaced, but gave a small nod. With that, your father, sister, and other brother left Casterly Rock to find you. They only hoped that nothing sinister had befallen you in the few hours that you had been gone.

*time skip brought to you by Robert's breastplate stretcher*

         One month. That's how long you managed to survive out in the wild before you were actually seriously hurt. You hunted, sold the meat and furs to people in a nearby village, and were able to purchase a small but well-made hut for yourself, all in a month's time. To say you were proud of yourself would have been an understatement. You proved that you could be self-sufficient. That you didn't need the family name to succeed. But then, the injury happened.

         You had been out hunting and gathering wood for your hearth when you got distracted. That one distraction ended with you being attacked by a doe protecting her young. You weren't fast enough with your arrow to take her down before she could begin trampling you. The only reason you made it out without worse damage was because someone else came along and scared the poor creature. You snapped your head in the direction of the intruders. "Father," was all you managed to say before you lost consciousness.  

         When you woke up, you found yourself in your own bed. How your family knew it was your hut, you didn't know nor did you think to ask. "Father, she's awake." You glanced over to see Tyrion next to your bed. He gave you a smile and patted your hand. The sound of footsteps caused you to look away from Tyrion to see Cersei and your father.

         "Foolish child," was the first thing your father said, causing you to frown. "I am not a child any more, Father. I may still be your child, but I am a woman. I have already made a name for myself here."

         "Why did you leave, sister?" Cersei asked and you frowned as you tried to sit up. "Because I couldn't take it any longer. The constant divide between you and Father and myself. I didn't want to argue with Father, but I didn't want you or Jaime or Tyrion to hate me either." You proceeded to explain exactly what you meant. As you spoke, your father's shoulders tensed and your siblings looked like they didn't know what to say.

         For a few moments, the silence in your hut felt stifling. You waited for someone to say something. In your opinion it said a lot about your family dynamic that none of them could find any sort of retort to your accusations or any way to try and console your worries and fears. After what felt like hours, your father finally spoke again.

         "We are returning to Casterly Rock." You felt your heart sink. He hadn't heard a word you'd said. "No. I'm staying here." Tyrion and Cersei exchanged a glance. The two never agreed on anything, but they agreed on this. You needed to come home. "Please, Y/N. You belong with us. We're your family. I swear, I shall do my part to make you feel like you belong. You're the best of us, Y/N. We need you," Tyrion said. Of all your siblings, he was the most eloquent. He knew what to say and when to say it.

         You glanced between your siblings and your father. What would happen if you chose to stay? Would your father begin treating your siblings worse? Would your siblings grow to truly hate your father? You didn't know, but you weren't sure you wanted to find out. "I will return, but I would like for there to be a few changes." Cersei and Tyrion immediately agreed. You were the glue that kept the family from falling into ruin. They knew that. For a moment, your father merely stared at you. Finally, he gave you a singular nod. "We shall discuss these…changes on the journey."

         You got up and walked over to him. "Father? I'm sorry for the trouble I caused." Before he could say anything, you wrapped your arms around him. At first, he merely stood there stiffly, but eventually he returned the hug. "Let's not dwell on it. I just want you home where you belong." You smiled before turning away and hugging Cersei then Tyrion. You grabbed your bag and headed out with them. You weren't exactly sure how things were going to work, but when you arrived at Casterly Rock and Jaime pulled you into the fiercest hug ever, you knew you were home.

(a/n: I hope this is what you were looking for!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard​ @brewsthespirit-blog​ @etherealpotter​ @line-viper​ @frozenhuntress67​ @cd1242​ @gruffle1​ @smalltownbigheart​ @igotmadskills​

[voiceless-terror]

Respite (The Magnus Archives)

Whumptober 2020 Day Twenty Three: Exhaustion

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Jonathan Sims, Sasha James, Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood, Elias Bouchard, Rosie

Summary: Archiving is hard work, but someone’s got to do it.

Or, five people who caught Jonathan Sims sleeping on the job.

“Alright Jon, I think I’m going to head out-oh.”

Sasha had been gone for five minutes, tops. And yet here was Jonathan Sims, fast asleep in his chair and using her messenger bag as a pillow. And snoring.

They worked late into the night on some hunch Jon had - once he got on a research kick, there was no stopping him. Sasha wasn’t much better. They encouraged the worst in each other sometimes, but that’s how they got their sterling reputations as researchers. So this was not an unfamiliar scene.

But it was ten at night and Sasha had been looking forward to finally getting home, putting her feet up and knocking back a glass of wine or two. They had hit a dead end and wouldn’t be able to continue until tomorrow, anyway. Jon had begrudgingly agreed and she popped over to the bathroom only to return to...this. 

It couldn’t be comfortable. Her bag was covered in buttons and pins, some particularly pointy. It wasn’t exactly clean either; it had been thrown on one too many questionable surfaces in the past few months. But Jon seemed comfortable, if his open mouth and the tiny bit of drool currently on the front pouch were anything to go by. Gross.

She contemplated waking him up. He would want to head home soon as well, the trains became entirely unpredictable the later it got and they boarded at the same station. But something stopped her. Maybe it was the dark shadows under his eyes, the small, wheezing breaths. The way his brow slightly furrowed even in sleep. The crankiness that increased as the week went on. If anyone deserved a quick rest, it was him. 

Sasha had been in the job for three years before Jon came on. She cut her teeth in Artefact Storage for the first six months- initially she’d been excited to delve into the dangerous and mysterious objects they had on site, but that excitement quickly faded into dread after a week on the job. She got the first transfer out into research, much more her speed. She was steadily making her way up the ladder and was now trusted to train new hires and interns. Ergo, Jon.

When she first met him, she honestly thought he wouldn’t make it far. He was fresh out of college, twitchy and short-tempered with an intermittent stutter. She didn’t fault him for that of course, but that didn’t save him from the judgment of others. No one wanted to get within a mile of him until Sasha volunteered her services in a rare moment of pity. His hand was dry and shook in hers when they were introduced; he was clearly not used to touch, though surely he must have shaken many a hand by now. 

Sasha was good at teaching, though she wasn’t very interested in it. “You should teach!” so many of her friends and family members said. Sasha hated being told what to do even more than she hated teaching.

Jon was a difficult student. He had constant questions that Sasha patiently answered. He did not take criticism well, once getting up and walking away for an hour after Sasha fixed his grammar. He couldn’t seem to focus, which was not at all promising in a career that demanded it. Still, she worked with him as a sort of pet project. If she could make a functioning researcher out of Jon, she could prove herself worthy of respect and perhaps a promotion or two herself. So she figured out how Jon ticked- what worked for him and what didn’t. It took some hard work but Jon opened up bit by bit, giving her more insight into the person he was. And he wasn’t all that bad, once you got past the prickly exterior. He was whip-smart with a dry, clever humor that Sasha could appreciate. When he got on the trail of something interesting, he followed it to the end with a dogged determination. Sasha found herself opening up in turn, talking to him about her past jobs in academia and her frustrations with the Institute. They had a lot in common, it turned out. Both were academics at their core, finding debate and discussion endlessly entertaining. They both had a soft spot for nice wine and greasy pub food. And they were both constantly underestimated and overlooked- Sasha, as a woman in her field with a tendency towards “aggressive behavior” which in any man would just be called confidence and expertise, Jon with his inability to read social situations, the stutter in his voice that undermined his points, and the painful earnestness in every word he said, no matter how pointed. So yes, they got on. He made her laugh. That was hard to do these days. 

Five more minutes, she promised, sitting back down at the table with a fond look to her companion. Thirty minutes later she woke him up, smiling at his panicked embarrassment and laughing in exhilaration as they ran to the station, just barely making the last train.

___________

What does Elias think he’s playing at, putting this poor young man in charge of the Archives?

Rosie had worked at the Magnus Institute for two decades and had seen many a manager come and go. She was Elias’s first and only secretary, coming in a bright-eyed young girl and now a tired, disillusioned woman firmly in middle age. You see a lot of things at the Institute. Sometimes you have to turn a blind eye.

When Gertrude Robinson went missing, Elias handled the situation with a bizarre aloofness that Rosie felt no need to question. Questioning things got you in trouble around here. But when he told Rosie of his plans for Jonathan Sims, she had to stop herself from scoffing. She had seen the way Elias spoke to him, mentoring him in a way he never had with any other employee. Perhaps he just had a fondness for the boy, though she wasn’t sure what he had done to earn it. Jon never got used to Elias’s presence, constantly jumping at a hand on his shoulder and laughing nervously through any of their conversations. It would be endearing if it wasn’t so pitiful.

But to make him Head Archivist? The man had only been here four years, there were plenty of other researchers and staff members who had not only seniority but the credentials to match. Jonathan Sims had an Oxford pedigree, impressive to be sure, but in Literature and History. It didn’t help that he seemed one missing file away from a nervous breakdown at all times. And they were going to give him an entire department to manage? A department that was in shambles and hadn’t been properly handled in the last fifty or so years? Good luck, kiddo.

She had been a little short with him the day he took the position- she had a monster of a headache and he wasn’t exactly making it easy on her, what with his questions about Gertrude and his ridiculous little proclamations of “I don’t believe in ghosts!” But the sincere gratitude in his voice as he told her to thank Elias for the opportunity came back to her hours later. You have no idea what you’re in for. It seemed almost sadistic to put a man like that in charge of the Archives.

The situation never seemed to improve. From what little she saw of him in the hallways, he always looked haggard and on edge. When he stood in front of Elias’s door waiting to be let in for another meeting (Elias had been scheduling a lot of them as of late), his hands fidgeted and his feet shuffled. She felt bad for him, when she remembered to. She had twenty years to get used to Elias, but he seemed to get worse with every visit to his office.

It was with a reluctant sigh that she took the paperwork from Elias and headed down to the Archives. Just a few things that slipped my mind on the last visit, so sorry Rosie. It was the end of the day and she was punctual to a fault, meaning she very rarely stayed past five unless Elias requested it. Even the Archives were empty- the assistants had all filtered out earlier and her footsteps echoed in silence as she made her way to the Head Archivist’s office.

“Mr. Sims?” she called, immediately regretting the choice of name. It sounded unnatural coming out of her mouth. “Jon, are you in there?” There was no one in his desk chair, though his bag and coat were still accounted for. She was not about to do a scavenger hunt through the Archives, the place gave her the creeps and it got worse with each passing minute. She contemplated just leaving them on his desk when she saw a half-opened door labeled “Document Storage.” I’ll just peek in, can’t hurt. 

“Jon?” she called again, creaking open the door and peering inside. It was not very well-lit; half of the lights were flickering like something out of a horror film. No one answered her. “Jon, if you’re here I have a few papers for you to sign. I’ll just leave them on your desk-” It was then she noticed a cot in the corner. That’s not allowed, she thought testily. It was rumpled- somebody had used it recently, she deduced. And then she looked down to the floor to find one leg sticking out from under the cot. She shrieked, grabbing at her chest as she slowly made her way over, unsure of whether she was about to die or if she had to call an ambulance. 

She kneeled down gingerly, her legs trembling as she found one Jonathan Sims entangled with a small, tattered blanket and snoring softly, completely lost to the world. She sighed in relief and no small amount of irritation- the man had just taken about three years off her life, at least. And what was he doing under the cot? Such a strange thing, that Jonathan Sims.

She reached out and grabbed his arm, giving it a good shake. “Jon!” He kept right on sleeping, completely ignorant to her entreaties. She gave him another, harder shake- nothing. This is ridiculous. She leaned in closer and opened her mouth to give one last deafening shriek of his name. “Jon!”

That did the trick. Too well, one might say.

Jon immediately sat up, which wasn’t a good idea- he only had a few inches of room left under the bed and ended up slamming his head against the metal rungs and leaning back down with a cry. “Agh!” he squeezed his eyes shut as she reached out her hand in apology.

“God, I’m so sorry,” she babbled, patting his arm. “It’s just, you weren’t waking up and- are you alright?” His silence was worrying. Oh god, Elias is going to murder me if I’ve killed his Archivist.

“Yes,” he hissed, awkwardly sliding out from under the bed in a sort of shimmying motion and rubbing at his forehead. Luckily he hadn’t broken any skin, it was just red at the point of impact. “What on earth- ah, Rosie!” The instant switch in tone as his eyes focused on her form would be amusing in any other situation. “So sorry, d-did Elias need anything from me?”

She paused, considering the man in front of her. He looked bad, really bad, like call-the-doctor-bad. Thinner than ever with dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn’t had a good nights’ sleep in weeks, if ever. And that look in his eyes, the change in his voice as soon as he noticed her- Elias had sway even through proxy. Suddenly Mr. Sims was all eager-to-please, as if he hadn’t just been caught collapsed under a bed in sheer exhaustion.

“What are you doing under there?” is what she asked, though she did not mean to. She wasn’t really supposed to care about anyone in the institute and she’d done a good job of it thus far. But something about this situation felt off, even to her. 

He ran a hand through messy hair (he’s going gray so young) and gave her a self-deprecating smile. “Ah, just a- I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.” He made no attempt to explain his odd choice of napping area. “If you could please not tell Elias-”

“Of course,” she assured, again strangely protective of the silly little man in front of her. “Think nothing of it- just need you to sign a few papers, is all.” She got up to allow him room to move, ignoring the creaking of limbs far too young to sound so bad. “Should probably use the bed next time, dear. That floor’s got to be horrible on your back.”

Jon blushed, grabbing at the papers and looking anywhere but her eyes. “Yes, well,” he shifted his feet, gesturing at the tattered blanket he had extracted himself from. “I’ve got that, so it’s fine.”

She fixed him with a dubious stare, but let him have this one. He headed back to his office to grab a pen, limping in obvious pain. The papers were signed and they said their goodbyes, Rosie heading home and Jon heading back to Document Storage, whether to sleep or work she couldn’t tell.

In her next round of discretionary spending, she ordered a few pillows and a nice knitted throw for the Archives. The break room had been looking a bit drab, it deserved a little sprucing up.

______________

“Mr. Stoker, if you could come get your Archivist I’d be much obliged.” 

“I’m on it, Janice.”

Tim sighed. Just another Wednesday night at the Magnus Institute.

Jon was running them ragged with investigations, following up on every statement he deemed ‘unsatisfactory’ in terms of research. So far, he had deemed almost every statement as so. It was not very fun. 

Tim had taken pains to finish his research bright and early, wanting to get home as quickly as possible and finish up the series he’d been binging. This plan included the added plus of avoiding the worms that had been showing up outside the institute over the past couple of days. But then Jon had come out of his office, looking sad and lost as he handed over another statement for Tim to work on. “Tomorrow is fine, Tim,” Jon said, in an uncharacteristic show of generosity. “No need to worry.” Tim was worried now, for an entirely different reason. 

He promised himself he would only stay an extra hour, just to make sure Jon got home alright. That was two hours ago. Jon had apparently snuck out to the library without him noticing, and now needed to be fetched for reasons Tim was pretty sure he could guess at.

Jon was never really on good terms with the librarians. What he lacked in charm, he did not make up for in well, anything really. He got upset when a book was in the wrong place; he was very short whenever something would take longer than a few minutes. He constantly hid from the librarians when it was time to close- one night he was quite literally chased out by Janice, and another night he was locked in (also by Janice) and didn’t even notice.

So finding him tucked in between two bookshelves fast asleep was not surprising in the least. It didn’t look comfortable but Jon seemed fairly relaxed, crammed as he was. This had happened more than a few times back in research but never recently. And never was he quite so hidden away, not even a limb giving away his position. He knew Jon liked his small spaces, but even this was pushing it. Janice hadn’t attempted to wake him, knowing what a fools errand it would be. “That boy could sleep through the end of days, I reckon,” she said as she opened the door for Tim and ushered him down the aisles. “I don’t know how he does it.”

“That makes two of us,” Tim mumbled as he crouched down in front of the man he previously called a friend and now a boss. “Jon? You up, mate?”

No response. Typical. Tim could keep this going for the rest of the night, or he could take matters into his own hands. 

Let it never be said that Tim wasn’t hands-on.

He managed to maneuver Jon into his arms without waking the man, a feat he’d perfected over the years. Jon, for his part, just slumped into his chest and muttered some nonsense under his breath that Tim couldn’t make out. Jon was a fairly vocal sleep-talker, something he found endlessly amusing. This situation was anything but amusing, however, and he could barely summon up a smile to give Janice as he carted his boss back down to the Archives.

Jon was falling back into old habits. He was becoming distant and moody, snapping at any inquiry about his health or well-being. It took all of Tim’s strength not to snap back at times. Sasha helped keep him in check, giving him warning glances whenever she believed he went too far, which was happening more and more often. He was afraid for the frail man in his arms. He had a strange sense of impending calamity that woke him up in the middle of the night, heart racing like it did after his encounter with the circus. It awoke a strange, primal fear inside of him that Tim couldn’t control and it crept in more and more by the day. 

Even when Jon was safe and comfortable, tucked neatly into the cot in Document Storage, the fear didn’t ease. He wanted to stay and keep watch, though that didn’t make much sense. The Archives were probably the safest place to be. Nothing could reach them in this dank, dusty prison cell of a workplace. Not even Prentiss. But he was tired, so he decided to leave Jon to his dreams and chew him out tomorrow morning. Now wasn’t the time.

He took a quick detour to his desk and back to Document Storage before he left, throwing one of his cardigans over Jon’s sleeping form. Just in case he gets cold, he reasoned. In reality, he didn’t know who it was actually for- Jon or himself. Maybe both.

_________

This is ridiculous.

Initially, he had been happy and slightly proud to see his Archivist stumbling back into work, bleeding and freshly marked by the Corruption. He of course told him the opposite, encouraging him to take all the time available to him to recover. But his Archivist was nothing if not stubborn, and watching him limp about the Archives, paranoid and afraid, was a wonder to behold. 

Today, however, might not have been the best time to come back.

The Magnus Institute, on paper, had a fully functioning HR department. That this HR department only included one incredibly overworked woman who was willing to let many things slide in order to collect a paycheck was no matter. They still had to observe the basic requirements that came along with it, and that included having mandatory yearly training in things such as workplace harassment. The modern workplace truly was a marvel - as if anyone willing to commit these acts would be cowed by one seminar. 

But here they were on a Thursday afternoon, every supervisor gathered in the conference room to undergo ‘mandatory training’ in sensitive subject matters. The training wasn’t actually training at all but an instructional video of about thirty minutes. It was quite literally the least they could do- Elias wasn’t about to go wasting precious money on hiring more professionals to help them avoid inappropriate conduct. That’s what lawyers were for, after all.

Jon had stumbled in once the video had already begun, looking bedraggled and worse for wear. The only seat left was in the back, conveniently located right next to Elias. He gave his Archivist a short nod and glanced back at the screen with a bored detachment, watching from another pair of judging eyes as Jon stumbled and struggled his way around his colleagues, murmuring apologies.

He didn’t acknowledge Jon’s greeting, preferring instead to keep him at a distance. He didn’t want him to get too comfortable with him, not at this early stage. But he still noted the exhaustion in his features with some concern- he did need him semi-functioning, how else would they get any statements recorded?

Jon managed valiantly to stay awake for the first ten minutes before he started to nod off, his head jerking backwards in a sad attempt at consciousness. Elias rolled his eyes, clearing his throat several times in an effort to keep him awake. He didn’t much care for Jon’s dignity, but it was rather embarrassing for him to have an Archivist who couldn’t stay awake for a mere thirty minutes once the lights were down. 

But then it started to veer into dangerous territory. Jon was slumping down further and further in his seat, each jerk awake more distracting than the last. Elias would ask him to leave if he didn’t think he would collapse on his way out the door and cause even more of a commotion. No, it would be fine to let him sleep if his head wasn’t constantly listing to the left, further and further and- Christ.

Jon’s head found purchase on his shoulder and there he remained, finally content to doze in peace.

They were tucked far enough in the corner that nobody could really see unless they strained their eyes. Everyone else was either watching the video or falling asleep themselves. Elias considered his options- he could wake the man, knowing the force required to do so would only cause a scene, or he could let him sleep until the end credits rolled- credits he knew were incredibly loud, and thus would cover up any yelp the Archivist emitted upon waking. 

Both were terrible choices. If Elias had his way Jon would have collapsed back in the Archives and avoided this mess entirely. He would also have the added bonus of being able to scold him later- a win-win, certainly. But alas, it was not meant to be. He sacrificed his pride and let the man continue to sleep on his shoulder, tensing as much as he could to keep Jon from slipping further down into a more embarrassing position. The added irony of the subject on the screen- Unwanted Workplace Advances- was not lost on him.

At least the man was having unpleasant dreams. He contented himself with watching the Archivist flit across his nightmares, running from worms and spiders and whatever other horrors his mind conjured. It was much more entertaining than the video on the screen.

And then the credits rolled. A few seconds before they began, Elias placed a firm hand on Jon’s shoulder and shook him once, hard. Just in time, the outdated, cheesy music blasted from the speakers and nicely covered his Archivist's shriek of terror and subsequent heavy breathing as his eyes shot open, panicked. No one was the wiser to that little display. 

His hand turned light, friendly. Just a boss showing concern for an unwell employee. “Jon, are you alright?” he asked, schooling his face into a parental sort of worry. That always seemed to work well with Jon- he was much more apt to be agreeable when the authority figure in question made it personal. “Do you need to go home?”

His eyes could barely focus as everyone else in the room stood up, yawning and stretching and milling about. “I-yes, I think I just need a lie down.” Elias nodded in faux-concern, helping the man to his feet.

Jon didn’t say a word as he walked him past the front door and into the Archives. He knew he had work to do.

________

Jon was in the way.

This was not a sentence Martin Blackwood had ever thought before. Even when Jon was technically in the way, he wasn’t, not really. Wherever Jon was, was wherever Jon needed to be. Whether it was standing in front of Martin when he needed to get to the break room, or blocking the water cooler as he lectured Tim about ‘workplace standards,’ Martin wasn’t going to ask him to move. Fighting with the man was absolutely exhausting and a lesson in futility.

But Jon was literally in his way. As in if he didn’t move, Martin would not be able to do his job for the rest of the day. 

The man was curled on top of a box of files, the exact box of files that Martin needed to access. He wasn’t moving- Martin had thought at first that he was dead, but his slow, even breaths disproved that. Why would he choose this spot to take a nap? It couldn’t be comfortable- his back was hunched and his bad leg stuck out at an awkward angle. His arms were sprawled over the box as if guarding it. Sasha had told him a few stories from their research days, but he had never seen the man asleep over anything but his desk. Jon was looking far too vulnerable these days, and Martin didn’t know what to do with that.

“Jon?” he tried quietly. The man didn’t stir. Figures. He wanted to reach out and shake him awake, but his wounds were barely healed and kept opening up, probably from his nighttime escapades. He didn’t want to be the cause of more of Jon’s pain. So he stood there awkwardly, shifting from side to side as his boss continued his slumber.

“Something wrong?” Martin jumped at the sound of Tim’s voice- Jon did not. He was leaning in the doorway, looking almost as tired as Jon and definitely in need of a nap as well. He recovered a bit better, having taken every day allotted to him. But that didn’t mean he was back at peak performance. Tim followed his gaze to the floor and rolled his eyes upon seeing Jon asleep. ‘Really?” Tim was very irritated these days. Martin didn’t blame him.

“I didn’t know what to do!” he whispered back, though he probably didn’t need to keep his voice down. “I don’t want to hurt him, but I need that box-”

“Just move him,” Tim replied unkindly, making his way over. “He won’t wake up, he’s a very heavy sleeper, honest.” He reached out a hand to grab Jon’s shoulder but Martin stopped him.

“N-No!” he stuttered forcefully, well aware of Tim’s attitude towards Jon these days. “I’ll just, I can wait, I guess-”

“You said he was in your way.” With a wince Tim crouched down, placing an arm around Jon’s waist and hoisting him over his shoulder in one smooth, practiced move. “See?” he said, also whispering. “Not a peep.” It was true, Jon hadn’t stirred one bit. It was also very concerning. He watched as Tim slowly made his way across the room to the cot, placing Jon in bed with an infinite care he didn’t think the man capable of. Like hands at a piano remembering a well-practiced tune, Tim’s body played out a gentleness he no longer felt, not anymore. He even placed a blanket over Jon, pausing for a moment to look down at him. Martin couldn’t see the look on his face and couldn’t guess at what it was. 

“There.” He turned around and abruptly exited the room, not sparing another glance at either of them. When Martin looks back at this moment, he’ll wonder if that’s the last kindness Tim ever offered Jon, and how sad it was that he wasn’t even awake to see it.

________________

A year later and Martin finds himself standing over Jon, watching him sleep. He is curled around a tape recorder. The light is on, it’s recording. For what end, Martin does not know.

He slips an arm around Jon’s waist like he saw Tim once do. Jon shivers- Martin is very cold these days, so he doesn’t fault him. He deposits him in the cot he knows so well- he will be safe here. Warm. Basira is here, and Melanie- they’ll look out for him, in their own way. He pauses, looking down at the man in the bed. He is alive, but Martin couldn’t tell you if he is breathing.

He does not visit the Archives again.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162460

[just-horrible-things]

Here’s some old writing (probably 2014? gee.) from a tabletop game I was once in. This was backstory for my character.

Cameron Blithe remains one of my favourites, and I may yet overhaul the character and work him into something new. 

---

At Attention

"At ease!" the sergeant bellowed, and the thud of two score booted feet hitting the ground echoed round the courtyard. "Not you, Blithe!"  Cameron snapped back to attention, confused and a little apprehensive. Being singled out was never a good sign.  "You stay there. Everyone else, dismissed! Come on, move it along! Don't waste time!"

The courtyard emptied rapidly, footsteps echoing off the concrete buildings along with the sergeant's voice. Soldiers scattered, some walking, others jogging so as not to arrive late to their next posts. Cameron stayed still, eyes fixed on the peeling paint above the door opposite until the movement died down. 

He thought he'd heard the sergeant leave, but he couldn't be entirely sure. It wasn't worth looking round. Either this was some trick to fool him into moving so he could be called up on disobedience again, or he was just going to be left here for an hour or two. 

Well, he was no stranger to standing at attention. If that's what was to happen, then fine. He'd just deal with it. He counted time in his head, taking note of the five minute mark when he should have showed up for patrol. He wondered if the sergeant had reported that he'd left Cameron standing in the courtyard, or if he'd have to explain his absence later. Probably the latter, he mused darkly, and he'd more than likely be punished for that too. 

The air was cold and damp and smelled of sweat and wet concrete. As the warmth of exertion from drilling started to fade, Cameron became aware of the breeze. It carried the sound of men laughing somewhere, and the occasional call and response of patrols passing each other.

Ten minutes became fifteen, then twenty. Despite the demands of the posture and the chill of the air, Cameron found himself mentally relaxing and his mind beginning to wander. In many ways, the inactivity was a welcome break from the constant demands on his attention, time and stamina, and it was certainly less exhausting than drill. He let his gaze wander, examining the back of the barracks and what little he could see of the apparently empty courtyard. It was not so intimately familiar as the square more commonly used for drilling, and though he must have spent at least a dozen hours here, he'd never had the freedom to really inspect things. 

Here at the back of the compound, the lack of funding was even more apparent. Doors were battered round the edges, steps crumbling, and he even saw a window with a cracked pane. Things were clean, certainly. They tend to stay clean when there's a large body of soldiers kept around the place with nothing to do but busywork. Cameron knew first hand how much effort went into scrubbing the roofs clean of moss and mould. But all the cleanliness in the galaxy couldn't compete with a bit of fresh money to replace damaged structures. Fresh paint was cheap enough, but layered over damp concrete it never stayed looking fresh for long. 

The state of the buildings was a bit depressing, really. Clearly nobody cared about a back-end-of-the-galaxy posting like this. The status quo ruled here, second only to the slow grind of entropy tearing things down bit by bit. The future seemed bleak. 

If he were facing the other way, he might have been able to see the mountains over the concrete walls. The distant peaks were frigid, sheer and uninviting, but at least they were something to look at. Unfortunately, it still wasn't out of the question that the sergeant was standing somewhere behind him, waiting for Cameron to move so he could scold him and inflict some worse punishment instead. By necessity, his view was restricted to a small area of flagstones, the wall ahead, and a small slice of dim, clouded sky above. 

He hoped the sergeant was behind him, getting bored. He could suffer there in silence, he wasn't going to get the satisfaction of watching Cameron falter or give in. Of course, if he did get bored he'd be completely free to leave without giving Cameron the time of day, let alone permission to stand down. But at least Cameron would hear him leave, and then he'd know he could afford to fidget. Realistically, he was fairly sure already that he was alone, but at least he could get a bit of petty satisfaction out of imagining the NCO stewing in boredom, irritation and disappointment.

Time passed. The sounds of some other unit drilling rang out for a while, then subsided again. Though he'd long stopped counting minutes, Cameron estimated maybe an hour and a half had passed when the rain started. 

It was no surprise; the sky had been darkening steadily all afternoon. It was light drizzle at first and not unpleasant, though he knew it would soon soak through his clothes and make the cold worse. A bird flapped past somewhere above and behind him, presumably seeking shelter before the rain started in earnest. 

For a while, the rain relieved the boredom a little by giving him something new to look at. The ground darkened in spots, few and small at first, then larger and faster as the rainstorm gathered momentum. He wondered how long it would take for the water to seep into the sheltered spaces under his feet. Maybe when he finally moved away he'd leave a pair of pale footprints behind. 

Drips congregated on the edge of the roof, merged with one another, and fell to the concrete below. Puddles began to form in the dips where the concrete was worn or damaged. Drips gathered on Cameron too, running down his face and down the back of his neck. Standing still, he didn't mind the wet so much as the cold. Wherever the rain soaked in, the wind seemed to blow stronger and colder. Soon he was fighting the urge to shiver. It didn't matter that nobody was watching, someone was sure to come back to fetch him eventually, and he refused to be snivelling and miserable when that happened. Let the weather do its worst, he'd stand like a soldier and show no weakness.

Watching drips grew dull once all the surfaces were saturated. For a while he shut his eyes against the gusts of wind which kept driving the rain into his face, but he wasn't entirely comfortable that he'd hear it if someone approached, so he compromised by squinting angrily into the rain. The light worsened, and eventually he realised dusk was falling. It came as something of a surprise. He must have underestimated the time. He'd expected to hear more noise of people dispersing at end of shift, but it must have been covered up by ambient noise.

Daydreaming about all the ways he'd like to kill the sergeant, he watched night creep slowly over the courtyard. Electric lights flicked on in windows one after the other, but none were close enough or angled right for him to see in. It was a small blessing. At least nobody could see him standing here, trying to pretend he wasn't freezing cold and soaked to the skin. 

It was almost a relief once the rainwater soaked through the last of the warm, dry spots in his uniform. Sure it was cold and miserable, but at least it wasn't getting colder anymore and he could stop trying desperately to cling to the lingering warmth. Provided he didn't stare at the lit windows, his eyes adjusted well to the growing darkness. He consoled himself with the thought that at least he wasn't doing night training exercises, and thus didn't have to count mud, thorns to the face, or being shouted at as among his woes. Things could be worse.

The effects of fatigue snuck up on him quietly. The muscle ache and general sense of exhaustion he was used to as a standard consequence of standing at attention for a few hours at a time. Shivering was less welcome, especially once it set in in earnest and he could no longer resist it by sheer willpower, but not unfamiliar. 

What caught him off guard was the sense of general illness. At first he put the queasiness down to hunger. He'd missed a meal, it was to be expected. When it got worse, he ascribed it to life simply hating him. Clearly this was the perfect time for him to get ill, and thereby maximise his misery. Maybe he was getting pneumonia from the cold. If he got seriously ill, maybe the sergeant would get in trouble. It would serve the bastard right. 

Time continued to pass, and the nausea continued unabated. One by one, the lights in the windows went out. His feet were numb, though he couldn't tell if it was the cold or the prolonged immobility. He wriggled his toes in the hope of improving circulation, and dimly felt them move inside his boots. His hands felt strange too, oddly distant, and the sound of the rain began to echo weirdly in his ears. With a jolt, Cameron recognised the symptoms of an impending blackout.

He considered taking a break, sitting down and waiting for the feeling to pass. Nobody would see. He took deep breaths, trying to steady himself and to avoid throwing up. Nobody would see, but it would still be backing down. He wouldn't let them win. Breathing deeply helped a little. The oddness in his hearing subsided, and the nausea returned to manageable levels. Everything was fine. It was just a passing weakness, he was fine.

He woke sprawled on the ground. 

Rain still fell all around him, and it was dark. Though he was cold to the bone, his face felt flushed and far too warm. The cool, hard concrete was not unpleasant, but he forced himself to sit up and look around. 

He was still alone. Nobody had seen him collapse. 

He checked himself over brusquely for injuries and found nothing worse than a few bruises, a dry throat and a headache. He hadn't thought his uniform could get any wetter, but on standing up from the puddle he'd been lying in, water ran in little streams from the cloth. 

He had half a mind to curl up on the floor and wait for dawn, but he knew his pride would never let him do that. He'd been ordered to stand at attention, and come hell or high water that was exactly what he intended to do. 

Agony ran through his legs as he forced himself back into the correct posture. He gritted his teeth and waited for it to subside, shivering violently. He'd been lying still in the cold, of course he was stiff. The rational part of his mind reminded him that standing still in the cold probably wasn't going to be any better, but he clung determinedly to the conviction that the pain would go away. Surely he'd warm up soon, shivering like this. He'd remember to move his feet more this time, and flex the muscles in his legs to ward off cramp and fainting. 

To his satisfaction, and mild surprise, the strain did again become more bearable. He wondered how long he'd been out cold, but even when conscious he'd completely lost track of the passage of time. With the sky still dark, it could have been any time of the night, and anywhere between one and eight hours left to wait until dawn.

Holding out for the return of the light became Cameron's focus and driving motivation. He guessed at times in his head, building elaborate estimates of how long he had left to wait. When the rain slowed to a drizzle, he convinced himself that the change in the weather must be a result of temperature changes from the imminent dawn. By the time it started pouring down again, he'd moved on to a new hypothesis. 

Realistically, he knew that there was no guarantee that dawn would bring any relief. It seemed increasingly likely that the sergeant had no intention of coming back to tell him to stand down. He must have had this planned out from the beginning. There was no reason to drill here rather than in the main square, except that here he could leave Cameron standing for longer before a senior officer found him and ordered him to do something more useful. 

Cameron had no idea how frequently this courtyard was used. For all he knew he could be here for weeks before anyone came back out here. Morbidly he wondered what they'd do to the sergeant if he passed out and died here before anyone found him. 

Of course, it would be ridiculous to stand here until thirst killed him. Technically, there was nothing stopping him from walking into the nearest building right now and getting a drink of water. He could come back out and nobody would be any the wiser, or he could just bugger off and get some sleep. What was the sergeant really going to do to him for disobeying an order like that, make him do press-ups? 

He could hear the conversation already though, and see that smug bastard's face in his mind's eye. Some people would think Cameron had done the smart thing, and some would think he was being an insubordinate idiot again, but he and the sergeant would know what had really happened. If he walked away now, he'd have backed down, and admitted that he was too weak to deal with standing at attention in the rain for a while. 

Well, fuck that.

When dawn finally arrived, it was subdued and miserable. Much like Cameron, not that he'd let it show in his posture. The greying of the sky that signalled the first light of the new day was accompanied by the noise of a few hundred people turning out of bed at half past five in the morning to present themselves for inspection. Lights clicked on in the windows of the barracks, then off again as the owners vacated the rooms. 

One lonely light stayed lit. Listening wearily to officers shouting, Cameron wondered if the room was still occupied for whatever reason, or if the inhabitant had simply forgotten to turn the light off. Trying to navigate a floor plan of the building in his head kept his mind busy, but not busy enough to shut off the stray thoughts still cataloguing all the reasons he had to be miserable. Thirst and pain fought for dominance, shadowed closely by cold. Hunger, exhaustion, boredom and the need to take a piss were all present, but barely got a look in in comparison.

Despite it all, as the light increased he did find his spirits rising. There were no more reasons to be cheerful than there had been all night, but something about the light made him feel better none the less. Maybe it was just the fact that once again he could tell what time it was, or that there was more to listen to and look at by daylight than by night. 

For an hour and a half, he counted seconds. The numbers got depressing and he kept losing count, but if he stopped he'd have nothing else to do and he wouldn't know what time it was.

Shortly after the ninety minute mark, he was interrupted by someone speaking behind him. "Drilling on your own, soldier?" Startled, Cameron took far longer to reach the correct response than he should have done. "No, sir," he managed, struggling to think of an appropriate way to phrase the reason for his standing at attention all alone in a empty courtyard. 

The man stepped round into his field of vision with an expression of equal parts concern and amusement. Cameron only barely recognised his face, but the lieutenant's stripes on his uniform told him all he needed to know. He saluted the officer, as sharply as he could convince his trembling muscles to move, and was quite pleased with his success.

"Do share then, why are you standing out here in the rain?" "Sergeant Yandle's orders, sir," he responded. Apparently running several seconds behind his mouth, his brain belatedly prompted him with a handful of witty lines he could have used instead. "I see. And when were these orders given?" Cameron's mind raced. Or rather, it felt like it did. From the difficulty he was having calling up mundane facts, he rather suspected his mind was moving at something of a crawl. "At approximately thirteen hundred hours, sir." "Yesterday?" "Yes, sir." "Good grief, man," the lieutenant still seemed torn between horror and laughter, "At ease!" Cameron couldn't quite stop his breath catching as he changed his posture. Every muscle in his body complained at being forced through another set of precise movements, but the relief of moving at all was worth it.

[cadomoisspokenfor]

Ya know thinking about it, maybe there’s nothing more to Syds weird amount of trust for Farouk than gullibleness and pride.

There seemed to be a pattern of her not really internalizing the severity of Farouks crimes, she mostly just thought of him as an “asshole” throughout all the seasons and not someone doing deep long lasting damage to the people around her.

In chap 11 when they find the music box David ask what it is she says, “Nothing just your asshole parasite messing with my head.”

As if its Davids fault Farouks evil, or as if Farouks only a David problem, and not ya know, an extremely powerful supervillain bent on world domination.

I’m trying to figure out what Syds perception of Farouk was, so lets look at their major interactions.

1. Discovers his existence, chap 5. She was wondering what the problem in her and Davids relationship was and now she has someone to blame. I’ll point out, it’s likely she was only thinking of Farouk as an obstacle in the way of her and Davids relationship, and not as a horrifying abuser who’s had a chokehold on David for his entire life. Now the “mission” is clear, snip Farouk outta Davids head, everything’ll be perfect.

2. David and Amys childhood home, also chap 5. Farouk jump-scares them a few times. And I think as far as Syds concerned, that’s a cheap trick. She sheds a tear but then puts on a brave face and keeps moving. Just a horror show after all. None of it “real”. But then Lenny actually jumps out and attacks her, telepathically ties her up then starts grotesquely kissing David while he’s unconscious. And the way she talks, I think Syd internalizes Lenny as being like... a jealous ex. The kissing, the “you stole my man” type language. Man, this relationship obstacle just won’t get out the way. And then...

3. Mental Clockworks, chap 5-7. In the white room Farouk reveals his true form and chases Syd down which scares the shit outta her. But, important note, he doesn’t actually touch her before the delusion is put in place. It’s still very much not real.

Anyways, what’s a horrifying display of control and power for everyone else worked a bit differently for Syd. She was the only one who noticed anything was off. And she couldn’t place it for a while, which worried her, and she eventually gets incapacitated by Lenny. But then, she’s woken up by Cary who takes her into a phone booth and tries to update her on what’s happening, only she’s already figured it out. I’ll point this out as a moment of overconfidence, she’s visibly proud that she was able to see through the illusion. She’s not like the others, she’s a hero archetype. And being that means when Cary hands her the glasses and tells her to go save the others she’s super confident in her ability to do so. She’s the hero after all. And when she does put on the glasses she remarks, “She thought it’d be more interesting.” She’s actively downplaying this nightmare. I don’t hold it against her but my point in saying all this is that it comes back later. This is another instance of her thinking Farouk’s “Not that big a deal.” Underestimating his abilities. I mean, she saw through it after all, she could probably do it again if she needed too... right?

To summarize 3, Syd sees herself as the hero who saw through Farouks cheap illusion. She feels stronger than Farouk here, like he couldn’t hurt her (really hurt her I mean) even if he tried. And in that, she can’t relate to the others who treat it like a big deal or like a traumatizing moment in their adventure. It was just a standard hero vs villain fight to her. Really hope the points getting across cause this’ll come up later.

4. White room, chap 8. Another interaction with Lenny only this time she’s on the ropes, looking a lot worse for ware. Syds not scared of her anymore, or so she tells herself at least. She saw through Farouks tricks. She can do it again if she has too. Nothings gonna get in the way of her and Davids happily ever after. Except Lenny has a good point... she’s still inside David. Still attached to his mind. She could explode his brain if they try to rip her out forcefully. And David can’t handle himself against Farouk, Syd knows this. Cause Davids never won against Farouk up to this point. Getting out of Mental Clockworks was a team effort from her, Melanie, Cary, and Oliver. If it hadn’t been for the crown they wouldn’t’ve gotten out of their. Syds role in this was to keep Kerry and Rudy safe until Cary could complete his end of the plan. And she did. But David was helpless in that, as far she knows. So she, the hero, needs to do something. Just sitting around isn’t good enough. So... she switches with David again. Using a true loves kiss too, a truly fairy tale worthy action, one for the books.

She’s fully possessed now, completely outta control of her own body, but Farouk only used her to get Kerry. It’s a very short moment for Syd, she might not even remember it. When she wakes up she says, “Did we win?” She honestly might’ve just blacked out after the kiss. Because they’re not telepaths their minds are probably much easier to push to the side than Davids. She might not’ve really... experienced the possession is what I’m getting at. And she’s once again most concerned with David.

D: “You should not have done that, as much as I like kissing you.”

S: “It would’ve killed you.” She says that last line not in a concerned way, but in a playful-ish way. As if to say “Obviously I saved you. I’d destroy the world myself if it meant saving you.”

Ya know what, I’ll point out here also that David once again failed to beat Farouk. Syd managed to get Farouk out of his mind but David still couldn’t stop him in the real world.

5. Plaque, chap 9. As explained in show, Syds been part of the team hunting down Farouk and trying to stop him from finding his body. Before chap 12 she and everyone else is under the impression that Farouk is the source of the “maze virus”. A psychological plaque that freezes everyone in their tracks and causes them to chatter their teeth. Disturbing, but... just based on other stuff we know about the character... she probably doesn’t care that much. Her main focus is probably still David. And when David comes back, she immediately blames him for disappearing. Her context here being that he was found in the club they followed Farouk to, next to a bunch of teeth chatterers mumbling, “Help them. Their in the maze.” Clearly, he’s been somewhat involved with the events of the past year, so why hasn’t he contacted her? Why hasn’t he included her in it? Why’d he abandon her? He says he doesn’t remember anything? Ptonomy says otherwise. Clearly he remembers something. He’s keeping secrets. She gets why from the others, but why from her? They’re supposed to be a team. And he abandoned her, to go clubbing with Farouk or whatever it is that he was doing their.

6. Music box, chap 10. Davids back. Maybe she can just pretend things are normal. He leads them to the middle of nowhere and they find her old music box. Farouk. That asshole. His little jump scares and memory tricks won’t get to her. He can’t hurt her, remember? This is all he can do. Illusions, trick. And she’ll see right through them every time. Besides, was reminding her of her childhood really the best he can do? Yeah she’s got a childhood, so does everyone. She’s over it already. (I’m starting to type more and more in Syds perspective.)

6.5 Syd the illusion breaker gets caught in the maze, chap 12. Only... she’s out of it before David even enters her mind to save her. She sees that he’s there, doesn’t know why, but decides to use this as an opportunity to teach him a lesson. We all know the lesson though. The headline in this particular case is, “David never saved Syd from her maze.” He never even saw it. She doesn’t know what he’s talking about when she mentions it. He entered her mind but she’s the one in full control. Scary good control even, props to her. The lesson she’s trying to teach him is sort of... her own thought process on heroism. “Love can’t save us, it’s what we have to save.” Up to this point “love” is all Syds been fighting for. It’s been the driving force behind her heroism. She’s done some messed up things in her past, sure, but all her problems only made her stronger. They made her the “truth seer” she is today. They led her to David, the best thing that’s ever happened to her. No villain can hurt her more than she’s hurt herself. This all... obviously doesn’t translate perfectly to David. That’s just... not been his experience.

(Skippable David Tangent) Farouk hurt David the most that any one person could. And David couldn’t hurt himself more even if he tried. And all Davids pain hasn’t made him mentally stronger, less gullible, or less sensitive. The opposite in fact. Davids minds been split, unbeknownst to Syd. He’s in a constant state of confusion. He keeps getting tugged around by friends and enemies and doesn’t know what to do about it. Davids pain hasn’t shielded him at all, just caused him more strife. He’s even still being manipulated by his abuser. The survivor story just doesn’t work on him, at the moment at least. As far as Davids concerned his “strength” comes from his powers, and he didn’t get a choice in those either. Syd doesn’t see any of this, she’s not a telepath. She hopes her story will help him but... it really only applies to her. Back into her perspective though,

7. Lenny’s back, chap 15. I know this isn’t a Farouk interaction but it is sorta important. Davids not listening to her. She’s trying to remind him of the mission, trying to keep him focused, but clearly it’s not working. Losing his sister really affected him. She understands sure, but he won’t even talk to her about it. Love is what’s supposed to be used to help each other through these dark times, to make sure people don’t feel alone. But he’s isolating himself from her. He isn’t “saving love” he’s pushing it away. That’s not what heroes are supposed to do. Farouk is once again in the way of their love. She can’t blame David, and she knows it’s not her fault, so Farouk.

But the headline there is she’s downplaying his sisters death. As if it’s just another trick to mess with him, an obstacle to be hurdled over. Like the music box thing. But... his sister died. In fact... Lenny was more immediately comforting to him about it than either of the Syds were.

Syd still isn’t internalizing the pain Farouks causing to others. All she’s internalized is her own wins against him and the fact that he’s never permanently damaged her specifically. Or so she says. He’s still just a ghost in a haunted house.

8. Lenny talk, chap 16. Syd comes over to gloat. She sees through Farouks trick. Lenny’s not gonna frazzle her, or David. She’s just another obstacle to their happiness. Only Lenny drops a hard truth on her. And Syd doesn’t seem to want to hear it. She’s stunned at. Tbh... I think she walks away deciding not to believe her. It must be another trick. She just said that to mess with her (again, Syds thoughts). She really really wants to continue thinking of Farouk as “just some asshole” who they need to work with and/or defeat so her and David can finally have their happy ever after. At this point, if she actually started thinking of Farouk as dangerous to her, as a major threat, it’d feel like giving him power. The power of fear, over her. She refuses to be afraid of Farouk, cause she knows that’s how he tricks people. That’s how he controls them. So she doesn’t listen to Lenny. She resolves to continue downplaying Farouks crimes. A dog barking in peoples ears.

9. The cave, chap 18. In between this and the last one David left her again. He really doesn’t get what “saving love” means. But she dedicates herself to him again. If he won’t save love, she will. She’s a hero after all. She’s beaten Farouk in the past and she’ll beat him again if she has too. And then... the cave. Incorporating what another fan has said, even if Syd does pic up on Melanie being Farouk, she knows her future self wanted to work with him for some reason. He was the key to saving the world. He may be a house haunting asshole, but if he saves the world, then there’s gotta be something more to him... right? Melanie complains about Oliver some more, she’s over it. But then Melanie starts showing Syd images. Syd doesn’t know how she’s doing that, but some of the images are from very private personal moments. And they’re all centered on David. These must be memories. Both her and Davids. How Melanie is doing this can go on the back-burner for now, what is she trying to tell her with these? That Davids crazy? No, Farouk’s the one who was behind all these things. Davids “her man.” Her one true love. The problem in their relationship has always been Farouk.

But then... there are all those moments after she got Farouk out of his head. Him keeping secrets. Him not confiding in her, or being there for her. Him constantly leaving her behind. That’s not how love’s supposed to work. A psychopath? Well, when you say that... and you show these images on the screen... and you show him torturing Oliver ( a victim) to get to Syd. And enjoying it, almost like he just wanted the excuse to go all out. Like it’s not really about saving Syd. Or love for that matter. Syd maybe admits to herself at this point that Davids fairly unhinged. He’s had a rough childhood though, there were bound to be some sharp edges here and there. He tortures Oliver for a long time though. And it really starts to feel like he just likes doing it, not that he’s doing it cause it’s “necessary”. It doesn’t even work.

And then... Melanie shows her Future Syd. She matches the description David gave her. And there’s David, in those same pajamas he wears. And... he’s kissing FS. He didn’t tell her about that. It’s not cheating cause it’s her future self. But... they talked about this. David was the one to say it might feel weird. Why not tell her? Why keep that a secret. Even if it’s not cheating, it certainly feels like it. It’s a huge betrayal. And he doesn’t have Farouk as an excuse. Davids just... a bad person. She’s starting to piece together the point of all this. “Legion, The World Killer” yada yada.

David hasn’t been loyal to her. He hasn’t saved loved, he’s not going to save love. The path he’s on is dark and selfish. Could he destroy the world? They’ve known he could since season 1. They never thought he’d actually do it. But wait no, you can’t give up on love that easily. He’s a good person. And then Melanie shows it all again. And she shows him kissing Lenny. And she shows FS telling Farouk about David. And Syd can’t help but concede. Davids too far gone. Farouk may be an asshole, but David lied about everything. He lied to Syd. Again, Davids not going to save love, he missed the mark on that. Davids going to end the world.

Very important to point out here, as I’ve tried to build it up, Syds internalized herself as a hero who doesn’t let anything get to her. Farouk can’t hurt her with his illusions and tricks. She’s seen through them before and she’ll do it again. But David betraying her? Keeping secrets? Playing with her heart? That hurts more than anything Farouks done to her. She invested in David. She was on his side no matter what, but he wasn’t on her side. So if FS says Davids evil and has gotta go, than she’ll believe her. He’s gotta go.

All of this hopefully explains my theory on Syds specific moment-to-moment reasoning thoroughly

I also wanna say though, if I’m right this makes Syds moment on the mountain make more sense. All the specific unexplained discrepancies.

She says she knows it was Farouk who showed her all that. Because she doesn’t perceive Farouk as that big of a threat and again, as mostly a house haunter. Those were clearly memories, she doesn’t care that the infos coming from him, and she believes she can tell the difference between an illusion and something real. so Davids gotta answer for that.

She gets a detail wrong, she says “He went to see her, after you quit.” But we all know he saw her before David quit and specifically set him up. Syd doesn’t know David specifically broke their rules after they set them. She thinks he kissed her beforehand and didn’t tell her for whatever reason.

And again, she doesn’t fully understand what everyone around hers been through. Hence, “The son of sam” thing. To her, Farouk maybe evil, but you can see through his tricks if you just try hard enough. Even though he possessed her she didn’t really register it happening. At a certain point the things you do when he’s in your head are on you (says Syd).

Oh, and also majorly, the “Farouk, your enemy” thing. She never really care about him all that much. He was just an obstacle. David was the one who had a weird complex about him.

Tl;dr Syd doesn’t view Farouk as much of a threat. She doesn’t register or internalize the pain he’s causing to the others cause he’s not doing any of it to her. Syds main focus is David and when she realizes what Farouk’s showing her are memories, and that David’s betrayed her and isn’t planning on “saving love”, that hurts her more than anything Farouks done. Thus, she turns.