#bc i have their main blocked since their writing is their side

[saetoru]

me and this one blog have each other blocked and i literally cannot rmr for the life of me who they are or why i blocked them 😭

[lovexdeepspace]

Hi ! Can you make a story where reader is not the mc and is in relationship with the boys who starts to act cold and indifferent bc of mc ? (i cant choose one i love all of them 😭)

summary; what happens when the l&ds boys have a run-in with the MC that changes everything.

warnings; angst, hurt, strained relations

note; my first request!! thank you so much for the love on my works, i’m so happy i can entertain with my writings!!

!! divider by @cafekitsune !!

༊*·˚ xavier

you were curled up on xavier’s couch, engrossed in some cable drama that you had originally put on for background noise while you tidied. you didn’t even blink when the front door open and shut, signaling xavier’s arrival.

"how was work, xav?" you called, glancing over at him as he tossed his jacket onto the loveseat. you subconsciously leaned over as he approached the couch, your lips pursed as you awaited the usual ‘i missed you’ kiss that became a routine thing. however, he walked right by you and headed to the kitchen, eyes on his phone.

"it was fine," he responded absentmindedly, pocketing his phone and rummaging through the fridge. "i’m real tired, though. think i’m gonna head to bed early tonight."

you turned off the tv and stood, coming up behind him. your arms wrapped around his waist and you pressed your cheek to his back, sliding your hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

"are you okay?" you murmured, giving him a comforting squeeze. "did something happen at work today?"

xavier shut the fridge and put his hands inside the pocket as well, over yours. "i’m okay. just tired is all."

he pulled your hands out of his pocket and turned to face you, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before shuffling off to the bedroom. you frowned and wrote it off as a tough day, thinking it was just a once in a while thing.

until it became an every day sort of thing.

over time it grew more and more obvious that there was something else going on with xavier outside of work — he would come home later, his already kind of spotty communication became worse, and then the affectionate gestures became a chore to him.

you would try to hold his hand? oh, he needs to hold his phone or it's in his pocket suddenly. want a hug? expect one of those brief side-hugs. expecting a kiss? quick peck on the cheek at most.

it was heart-wrenching, watching the man who had loved you like you had hung the moon in the sky for years suddenly stop. the thoughts of where things had gone sour commanded your mind day and night, searching for the answer tirelessly. then, one day, the answer presented itself to you out of the blue.

or, rather, she presented herself to you.

you and xavier were spending a quiet (not by choice) morning in the cafe when a woman approached, calling xavier's name. you noticed the way he straightened and the way his eyes lit up before he quickly covered it up. your heart shattered but you swallowed the hurt, smiling at the woman as she looked between the two of you and introduced herself to you. xavier invited her to sit with you two and she accepted, allowing you front row seats to watch the man who was supposed to love you fall in love with someone else.

༊*·˚ rafayel

work had finished early today, leaving you the afternoon to do as you pleased. seeing as your last mission was located just a couple blocks from rafayel’s studio, you took it upon yourself to pick up some snacks from the cafè to surprise him since he had been working hard for days on end now.

with pastries in hand you walked up the pathway to the mo art studio, a skip in your step as your excitement became palpable. as you go to open the door it swings open for you, revealing not rafayel but a woman you’d never seen before. you faltered for a second as she brushed by you with a muttered apology, heading the way you came.

probably just some fan of his work, you thought to yourself as you headed inside. kicking off your shoes at the entryway, you head for the main room and find rafayel lounging on his couch. he sat upright once he noticed you, squaring his shoulders and forcing a grin.

“you’re here,” is all he said to you, a stark contrast to his usual witty comments on how you just couldn’t seem to stay away for long.

“work ended early, so i thought i’d bring you some snacks,” you replied, placing the paper bag on the coffee table as you took a seat next to him. “how’s the painting coming out?”

“fine,” he replied, digging into the bag and pulling out a tart. you waited for him to continue, to whine and complain about thomas or some media outlet being on his ass about something but nothing followed his curt response.

“so,” you drawled, filling the silence, “another fan found your address?”

rafayel’s brow furrowed and he swallowed before asking, “what do you mean?”

“the woman who left when i came,” you pointed out, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. “a fan of your art?”

rafayel shook his head, leaning back against his couch with a wistful smile. “oh, her? don’t worry about it, just a deepspace hunter looking into some things about my paintings.”

you wanted to not worry — truly you did — but something about the whole thing just didn’t sit right with you. despite the nagging feeling in your mind, you went to place your hand over rafayel’s so you could focus on something else. just as your pinky finger was about to interlock with his, he quickly pulled his hand onto his lap.

with a small nod, you stood and mumbled, “i’m gonna head home.”

you hoped that rafayel would say something — better yet do something — to get you to stay but no, he was off in his own little world, staring out the window at the sea. fighting back tears, you take your leave, slipping on your shoes and heading back towards the streets.

the sunny day was no longer warm and welcoming but hot and suffocating with your heart drowning in pain at the idea of the man you loved with all your being and more having someone else.

༊*·˚ zayne

things between you and zayne had always been kind of like a scale — some days it would lean to one side, some days the other.

he was stoic yet sweet, soft and caring in just the right moments. the times you were together were some of the most blissful times you could ever have imagined. just the right amount of intimacy, domesticity, and partnership that a relationship needed to blossom.

this would be outweighed, however, by the days straight without communication but you always chalked it up to his profession and never really had too much of an issue with how things went. you couldn’t begin to imagine the amount of stress that a doctor took on, especially in the day and age of wanderers. so, like a good partner would, you did all you could to be as supportive as possible in every way he needed.

from homemade lunches to silently holding him in your arms after a rough day, there was nobody better for him than you.

one morning after you had stayed the night, you woke up to a text from him asking if you could deliver his lunch that he’d left on the table. after sending a quick reply to assure him you’d swing by in a bit, you got out of bed and found some clothes folded neatly on top of the dresser for you.

soon after getting yourself together, you grabbed zayne’s lunch and packed one for yourself, deciding that it’d be nice to have a meal together in his office again since it had been some time since the last one. you enjoyed the brisk walk to the hospital, soaking up the early spring sun.

yvonne gave you a polite wave as you walked past the receptionist’s desk and down the hall towards zayne’s office. you knocked once before opening the door, stopping short as you noticed a woman sitting on the couch beside him.

“my bad, i didn’t know you had a patient,” you said with an awkward chuckle before holding up his lunch bag. “brought your —”

“just leave it on the desk,” zayne interrupted, nodding toward the desk in the corner. “thank you.”

“yeah, no problem,” you replied, doing as asked. you stand there for a second longer and zayne cleared his throat, gesturing towards the door. “oh, sorry. i’ll, uh, see you later then?”

your statement switched to a question when zayne raised an eyebrow at you, quickly shutting down any confidence you had. with a curt nod you exited his office and left the hospital, mind clouded as you aimlessly wandered until you found yourself at the park. sitting on a bench you took out your lunch and began to eat until you couldn’t stomach anything anymore with the image of zayne and the woman on the couch burned into your mind.

the way they were shoulder to shoulder; her hand centimeters from his knee; his eyes, usually icy and reserved, looking at her with a sickening fondness that you only saw from time to time; the way he addressed you not as a partner, but as someone who had intruded on something so important to him.

the way he was smitten, fallen in a way you had never seen in the year and some change you’d been together.

[stitchthesewords]

Redstone for Writers and Artists Part 1: The Basics

Very long post ahead peeps. I tried to put just...as much information as I would want to refer to if I was writing a redstone mechanic into a fic, so. Here it is, along with future links to the other two posts [or three posts, depending on how many questions I get] and the Google Form to send in questions. <3

Let's start with the basics - Redstone dust, or as it will look for the rest of these posts -

I'm using Vanilla Tweaks resource pack addons to make all of the redstone stuff easily visible for the purposes of explaining. the mechanics. The reason there's a big 0 in the middle is because, as you may or may not know, redstone power can only travel 15 blocks before it has to be re-strengthened. Think of redstone dust as the wiring for an electrical component.

Here I demonstrate the distance redstone dust can be powered using both a Redstone Torch and a Redstone Block

A Redstone Block is a permanently on power source for redstone.

A Redstone Torch is a power source for redstone that outputs level 15 power and can both be toggled off and burn out, as shown below. The reason the torch burns out is because the redstone is activating and deactivating the blocks around it too quickly [8 times in ~3 seconds].

This image helps to show what's going on. The bottom torch is attached to an 'off state' block [the powered off redstone lamp] so it can be in an 'on state'. That torch then powers the block above it into an 'on state' [the powered redstone lamp] which then sends a redstone signal to the torch attached to it to put it in an 'off state'. This is one method to power redstone vertically. In the above video, the blocks surrounding the torch are cycling through these on and off states too quickly, causing the torch to burn out.

The next thing to cover is the Redstone Repeater. This little doohickey has 4 different states: a 1, 2, 3, and 4 tick delay, as seen from both the back and side in the below images. A Tick is a measurement of time in Minecraft, defined as 0.1 second for redstone purposes. The repeater puts out a redstone power level of 15 regardless of how strong the power going into it is.

In comparison, a Redstone Comparator maintains the signal stretch coming out of it. As seen below, when comparators are used in place of repeaters, the line no longer full powers.

Comparators can also be used to read the fullness of containers like chests. It's a little hard to see in the video [since I only have 1 computer and 1 account, I can't film this from two angles] but in the right-hand side you can see the redstone number ticking up as more items enter the chest.

Next up, Pressure Plates. There are 4 different kinds of pressure plates in the game - Stone [and blackstone], Light Weighted, Heavy Weighted, and Wooden.

A Wooden pressure plate is a standard pressure plate - drop an item on it, stand on it, or get a mob to stand on it and it will turn on to a power level of 15

A Light Weighted Pressure plate [gold] recognizes all entities but it ticks the number it outputs up by 1 every time there is another entity on it.

A Heavy Weighted Pressure Plate [iron] recognizes all entities but it ticks the number it outputs up by 1 every 10 entities.

[for reference, in the above image there are 9 items on the gold pressure plate and 11 [bc the first 10 count at '1'] on the iron pressure plate]

A Stone pressure plate only recognizes Players and Mobs, not Entities, but when activated also puts out a power level of 15.

Onto Buttons and Levers. In Minecraft, there are two kinds of buttons, Stone and Wood. The main different between them is that a Stone button is depressed for 1 second whereas a Wooden button is depressed for 1.5 seconds. The other difference between the two button types is that Wooden buttons can be interacted with by Arrows and Tridents but a stone button cannot. If you shoot a wooden button, it stays depressed until the arrow or trident despawns. A lever can be flicked on and off to act as a switch for a minecraft circuit.

Other methods of outputting a redstone signal include things such as:

Turning a page in a book on a Lectern[it involves some very complicated math so just know the more pages a book has, the weaker the signal it puts out so you have to flip more pages to output a stronger signal][a book with 1 page outputs a level 15 signal, a book with 15 pages outputs a level 1 signal on page 1 and a level 15 signal on page 15]

Being in the vicinity of a Sculk Sensor [the closer you are when it triggers, the higher the power level it outputs],

Shooting a Target Block[Most projectiles output a signal for 0.4 seconds, whereas an arrow or trident output for 1 second, and the closer the projectile hits to the center the higher the power level it outputs]

A Daylight Detector changes its signal strength based on the time of day, whereat noon it is a full strength signal and it goes down in eithe direction from there. A daylight sensor can also be reversed, wherein it checks for darkness and at Midnight outputs a signal strength of 11 [because of how the game checks the internal skybox] [I am not gonna lie to you. It is more complicated than this. Just know that if its cloudy or raining or storming the signal strength weakens. We're not actually building redstone mechanisms here]

A Lightning Rod outputs a level 15 signal when struck by lightning

A Tripwire acts as a pressure plate if there are tripwire hooks to either side of it. They output their signal into the block they are attached to.

Pistons and Sticky Pistons are fairly simple contraptions. They can push blocks and entities, and sticky pistons can then also pull them back. This list tells you everything a piston cannot push or pull though. We're writing fanfiction and drawing fanart with this information and I tend to...ignore it at my whimsy. There is a very popular mod which a lot of the Hermits have used in their one off videos that allow pistons to interact with containers, for example.

Related to Pistons are Honey and Slime blocks. Functionally these items are identical. They can be pushed by pistons and sticky pistons, and any blocks stuck to their sides will come with them. They do not stick to each other, so they're often used for making things like doors and flying machines[which are redstone mechanisms that move themselves, generally used for more complicated machinery] Below they are combined with sticky pistons in order to move back and forth.

Dispensers and Droppers are both items that can disperse entities into the game. The difference here is that Droppers will always spit out the item and Dispensers can dispense certain items like water [seen below], lava, arrows, and eggs, along with placing Shulkers. Droppers can deposit items into containers directly infront of them, including other Droppers, and make a thing known as a dropper pipe to move items around in a system. You can remember which one is which because a Dispenser looks like an :O face whereas a Dropper looks like a :> face.

Hoppers are containers that can pull items from containers above them and push them into other containers. They can receive a redstone signal in order to 'lock' them and keep from moving items around. <- More information about these specifically will be in the Adjacents post.

Trapped Chests are containers that output a redstone signal when they are open. If you place a trapped chest on top of a hopper, the hopper wont pull items until you close the chest. This can also be used to effectively make traps, hence the name 'Trapped' chest.

Observers are a block which can observe changes to blocks in front of them. The little face on an observer is where it's 'looking', and the little red dot on the back of an observer is where it outputs the redstone signal based on the changes it observes. This list tells you what an observer can and cannot detect, though I also play fast and loose with this list as I need to.

And that about wraps it up for the basics. Don't see what you were hoping to see in this post? In the next day I will be doing - Redstone Adjacents are things like 'Why do Redstoners use so much wool?','How do minecarts interact with Redstone?', and other fun tips and tricks

Part 2: The Adjacents can be found here

[kasdan]

𝐸𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟’𝑠 𝐹𝑢𝑟𝑦 {𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 1}

join the taglist | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

a/n: hello! welcome to my first story I am posting on tumblr (i would like to apologize if it is suckish) I have had this story plot in my mind for a while and i’ve been on a frank castle craze recently and figured i’ll just write about it. so please read at your hearts content and i would love your lovely feedback and we will see if this story goes anywhere. i had to split this chapter into another part bc it was getting too long so oops.

Summary: you are experimented on and are trained to be the perfect weapon but you’ve decided that you’ve had enough and rage takes over.

Pairing: eventual frank castle x reader

Warnings: torture, needles, blood, mentions of kidnapping, child abuse, death, murder, trauma, slow burn, language, tasing

Word count: 4.5k

Chapter song: Ember by Katherine McNamara

~

I hear the muffled clack of footsteps getting louder and clearer as I work to open my eyes. The room is bright, and I have to squint as I go to pick my hand up to block out some of the light.

However, I can’t move my arm. My breathing gets heavier as I work myself awake and try to figure out what's going on. Then I remember. I remember exactly what’s happening, and I relax under the bindings since I know there is nothing else I can do as I stare at the ceiling above me.

The footsteps stop right in front of my door, and I close my eyes again, not wanting to face what I know is going to happen as the door slides open. The person comes through the door and says nothing as they walk up to me. It’s silent until I hear them start typing loudly, the sound of the keys echoing in my ears. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, wanting to drown out all the noise and go back to a noiseless slumber.

Suddenly the typing stops, and I hear rustling on the left side of the table I am strapped to. Then everything stops, and all that is heard is the faint clicking of the clock somewhere in the room, where I can’t bring myself to remember where exactly it is.

I feel the person roughly grip my arm, and my eyes shoot open. Not caring about the brightness of the room anymore, I turn my head towards the perpetrator. I can’t see their face; they’re wearing a mask that covers the bottom half of it, with only their eyes showing as they stare down at the arm they grabbed.

"Please." I open my mouth and manage to get out a plea when I see the needle that they’re holding in their hand. My voice cracked in three different places with just that one word, and it came out as more of a whisper, but I know that the person heard it when they look up at me.

I see their mask move, and the corner of their eyes move up as if they were smiling at me. I get a nauseous feeling in my stomach at the sight, and they say nothing as they look back down at my arm and bring the needle to my skin.

My mind is screaming at me to do something, anything, as I see the needle get closer and closer to my skin. I try to move away, but the bindings are keeping me in place, and my entire body is sore, I'm not even able to move a muscle. I can’t get away even if my life depended on it, which in this moment I am sure it does.

I turn my head to look away, and I feel the needle pierce my skin as a tear rolls down my cheek at the knowledge of what is to come. I can feel the liquid coursing through my veins, and I know it’s just a matter of time before I start feeling the effects.

I brace myself on the table as my skin starts to burn and my veins feel like ice is going through them. I have been through this process hundreds of times already, and it still has a growing effect on me, as if it changes every time.

I soon feel unbearable pain as the icy feeling in my veins turns into a burning sensation that makes my skin feel like it’s boiling. I open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out. My throat is raw from only screaming and barely any talking for days on end.

Tears streamed down my face as I struggled against the binds holding me down. I know that I’m barely moving them and have no chance of escape, but my body was moving impulsively, trying to get out.

Small whines are the only thing leaving my throat, and my eyes are blurry from the tears. I see the outline of the person in the room with me walking around my body on the table. I don’t have to see them to know that they’re writing their ‘findings’ down.

I close my eyes again, praying for the pain to go away, even the slightest bit. It’s gone on for hours at a time before, and I just hope that I pass out early this time.

I don’t know how long I’ve been on the table in pain for; it can’t have been more than 20 minutes, but it felt like hours. I can vaguely hear the door to the room opening before everything goes black and the pain in my body is left to a dulling heat in the back of my mind.

When I wake up, I’m back in my cell, laying on my bed—a single blanket and a worn-out pillow laid out on the ground of the cold room. It takes me a minute to be able to move my arms and legs. I can still feel the dull throb of pain in my joints as I move myself to sit upright against the wall.

There’s not much in my room, that being a small table in the corner with some paper and writing utensils that I never seem to really use, and a small toilet in the corner. I usually spend the day staring at the white, blank walls, waiting for the pain in my body to go away fully. It never completely leaves; there’s always that dull ache in my body, reminding me of what’s been done to me and mocking me, saying I’ll never be able to function with my body like it’s supposed to. Well, apparently this is what it’s supposed to be: a rag doll getting picked up and pushed around for other people to poke and prod at.

I’ve been in this place since I was born, and I have no idea how long it's been since. I have no concept of time in here besides the glances at the clock in the operating room, as they call it. Not that I can read the time on it anyway; I was never taught. Sometimes I would stare at the clock in the room while I was being worked on, trying to figure out the time, but they were always fast glances, and I couldn’t bring myself to focus that well when I was being injected with stuff.

Reading the time on clocks isn’t what I was made to do anyway. I hear the voices and conversations in the hallway pass by; it’s not like I have anything else to do anyway. I’ve heard several instances where they’re talking about a military weapon that would be very helpful, and I can’t help but notice that the weapon that’s been constantly talked about is me. They’re making me into a weapon.

I guess it would be obvious to any outsider looking in what they are trying to do, but I don’t think of it that way. I’m here trying to understand why this is happening and why it’s happening to me. I didn’t ask for any of this, and I often find myself wondering what a normal life and childhood would entail.

The only vivid memory I have of being in this place is Ellie. She was brought into my cell one day when I was younger, with nothing said from the guards as they threw in an extra blanket and pillow. That’s when I found out that there were other children here too, not just me.

I watched as the guard closed the door and heard the lock click into place. I glanced over at the little girl who came in with me. She didn’t look at me and instead opted to claim the corner diagonally from me.

It was silent in the small cell, as if another person hadn't been put in with me and it was still just me. I kept looking at her from the corner of my eye as time passed and my position sat up on the wall. She never moved from where she was; only the occasional small hiccup was heard after a muffled sob.

The guard came back later with two trays of food that consisted of a couple pieces of bread and a small cup of water—not nearly enough to be able to healthily sustain ourselves on, but I was already used to eating like that for years.

One tray was dropped in front of me, the little water that was in the cup sloshing out over the edges onto the ground. I looked up and gave my best dirty look to the guard, but they didn’t acknowledge me. The other tray was dropped in front of the other little girl in the room. She flinched away and tried to curl into the corner she was in more, even though her body was already fully pressed against the wall.

I start to drag the tray towards me and hear the thud of the boots from the guard leaving the room, the lock clicking into place. I pick up a piece of bread and start picking off the green parts of it. I didn’t know what it was exactly, but it didn’t feel right eating it, so I made it a habit of carefully picking the parts off every time.

I started nibbling on a piece after I'd picked off the green from both pieces. I noticed movement in the corner of my eye and turned to see the girl reaching for the food on her tray after some hesitation. She looked down at the bread and also started to pick off the green parts and place them back onto the tray. I watched as she practically shoved the bread into her mouth and gulped down what she had for water.

I could visibly see that she was still hungry, so I moved my tray closer to hers after I finished the piece of bread and had some water. She jumped when she heard the scraping of the tray against the ground, as if she forgot there was someone else in the room, and finally looked up at me with wide green eyes. I nodded towards the tray and pushed it closer to her, motioning for her to take it. She just shook her head and pushed herself back into the corner she was in, her eyes still locked onto mine.

“Take it.” I insisted with a hoarse voice.

"I- I can’t, it’s yours." She said it in a small voice, shaking her head again. Her voice didn’t sound as bad as mine did, which is what would happen if you'd spent enough time here. I figured she was new and they just brought her in, and with that, I pushed the tray even closer to her, trying again to have her take the bread, but without getting so close as to scare her.

"I don’t need as much; I’m used to it." She just stared at me, as if processing my words for a moment. Then she slowly reached forward to grab the food from the tray. I let out a sigh as I leaned my head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling.

There was movement on my side, and I turned my head to see the girl standing beside me, holding out half of the piece of bread I'd given her. I opened my mouth to turn her down, but then closed it and carefully took the food out of her hand after seeing the look on her face.

I felt the corner of my mouth lift up slightly as she sat down next to me and started up a conversation.

"My name’s Ellie. What’s yours?" She spoke in more of a happier tone than what it was like earlier. I stared blankly at her question, my mind not coming up with an answer. My name? What was my name? The only answer I could come up with was the series of numbers that ‘patients’ are addressed as.

It seemed she noticed my hesitation in answering the question when she spoke up again. "Do you not have a name?" I looked at her and didn’t know what to say, so I instead opted to gently shake my head in denial.

She looked at me in confusion before a smile spread across her face. Well, that’s okay!" she said cheerfully, "we can share a name! You can have my middle name; it’s y/n; it’s not like I’m using it anyway." She finished her thought, a smile still on her face as she looked at me.

I found myself mimicking her smile while nodding my head in agreement. She clapped her hands in excitement while engaging in a different topic completely. We spent a long time talking about random things, with her mostly telling me about different things about the outside world. It was the first time in my life that I was having a full conversation with someone that wasn’t one-sided and had me enjoying the other person's company.

A tear falls down my cheek, and I work my sore arm up to wipe it off. Thinking about Ellie is the only thing in here that makes me feel anything other than pain, and I will make sure that I find out exactly what happened and who was involved.

Suddenly the door to my cell opens, and my trainer walks in with a smile on his face. I don’t match it as I stare at him with a deadpan expression.

"Come now, why the long face? I thought we were buddies." He says it in a cheerful voice, and I stare at him, not moving, with the same expression on my face. His face drops into a scowl, apparently done with playing nice for the time being.

He throws two pieces of clothing at me, and I let them hit me, still not moving. "Get dressed; I don’t have time for your shit."

"No." The first word I speak, he isn’t ready for, as he does a double take at me like he’s shocked at me saying anything. I usually don’t say anything and just move, like while getting dressed and following him to the training area. However, today I’m not feeling compliant, know I’m too sore to try and train, and don’t know how I’m going to fair.

"What did you just say?" He asks with a sneer in my direction when I don’t move right away. I know I shouldn’t push back and just do what he says, but today I don’t have the patience to pretend.

"I think you heard me and my shit." I respond, and I see his eyes visibly darken. I don’t have time to react before he’s roughly grabbing my arm and forcing me up. Pain shoots through my body as I’m forced up, and I hold in a whimper. I don’t need him to get any satisfaction from this.

“Listen here, you little bitch,” he practically spits in my face as his grip on my arm tightens even more. I can already feel the bruise forming where his hand is. He opens his mouth to say something before he’s interrupted by a voice coming from the doorway.

"Is there a problem here?" A guard passing by hears the commotion in the room and stops in the doorway. My trainer's face spreads into a smile as he turns around to face the guard. The guard has their taser out of their belt holder, holding it as if ready to attack at any moment. I go stiff as I’m attracted to the sight, knowing how that tiny stick can feel as the electricity courses through my veins. Unfortunately for me, it seems the trainer felt it.

He releases my arm and starts to walk up to the guard. “Yes, everything is fine, just a little issue with getting the equipment to cooperate." His back is turned toward me, but I can hear the smile in his voice when he talks. He walks forward and reaches his hand out to the guard. In this moment, my mind is screaming, No, no, no, please no. The next events happen in a flash as he takes the taser from the guard and strides back up to me, immediately connecting the taser to my ribcage.

I let out a cry as the electricity shoots through me, and I fall to the ground. I can feel the electricity throughout my entire body as squirm on the ground trying desperately to make it stop.

I see the trainer crouch down beside me and take ahold of my jaw, forcing me to look at him. "See what happens when you don’t cooperate?" I grit my teeth as I force out a response.

“Fuck. You.” He clicks his tongue in disapproval as he stands up and walks towards the door, giving the guard their taser back.

“I expect you to be in training in less than 20 minutes.” He then leaves the room and says something to the guard, causing them to nod and take their place standing against the wall outside the doorway to my cell.

I take my time getting up, with shocks still hitting me every once in a while. He knows I don’t know how long 20 minutes is, but I can’t bring myself to move any faster than I am. I can see the guard in the doorway from here, their hand resting on the taser in their belt, which causes me to try and move a little faster.

I move to change into the clothes that were thrown at me, cursing out the trainer in my head the whole time. The shocks from the taser have practically all disappeared by now, leaving behind fits of rage in their wake. I’m angry at the trainer for treating me like some piece of equipment he can hit and throw around when it’s not working to his standards. I’m angry at the experiments they’ve decided that I’m going to be the center of and the torture that I’ve had to grow accustomed to over the years. I’m angry at the people behind all of this, and I’m angry that I couldn’t have a life outside this lab that Ellie had told me so much about before.

I work to get dressed in my fits of rage, and throw the old clothes carelessly on the ground. There’s nothing really different about the clothes, both pairs include a shirt and pants that are all white, the training clothes maybe being a little more flexible for movement.

After I’m dressed, I walk out of the room and don’t even look at the guard by the door as I start down the hallway towards the training room, but I can hear their footsteps walking closely behind me.

The halls are long; the walls are all white and empty, with doors lining up on both sides. If you weren’t looking hard enough or were just passing by quickly, you probably wouldn’t be able to tell that there are doors here by how they blend right into the walls, with no doorknobs but light fingerprint panels built into the wall in order to open them.

Getting to the training room was a fairly long process, but you do it over and over again, and it doesn’t feel that long; you get numb to the feeling and just keep walking, and before you know it, you’re there. That’s what happens this time when I make it to the training room. I’m in front of the door in what feels like no time, and I push the door open to enter. This is the only place I’m authorized to enter like this, and I make my way towards one of the benches, ignoring my trainer standing on one of the mats in the middle of the room.

I sit down on the bench and lean forward with my elbows on my knees as I scan the room. It’s about three times the size of my cell, with various mats covering the ground. The walls are the same white color that the rest of the building is, but instead of being bare, there are walls with an assortment of different gun types and knives. However, all the weapons that are on the walls are props for show and won’t do any real damage. I learned that the hard way when training. One time I tapped into my rage and threw a throwing knife at the trainer, but instead of piercing his skin, all it did was bounce off his chest as he started to laugh at me.

Ever since that day, I have found myself not holding back my punches in retaliation, even though the trainer didn’t say anything about it. I could see that he was taken aback by some of them, especially when I got him hard in the eye once. I was particularly happy when he stumbled back from it, but I paid for it the next day when he was extra rough with me.

I watch as the trainer nods his head towards the door, and see the guard was waiting in the doorway for a signal to be released. They immediately turn to leave back down the hallway we came from after the signal from the trainer was given.

He looks at me expectingly at my place on the bench. I know I’ve been testing his patience today so I sigh, push myself up, and walk over to him. I stop when I’m in front of him, waiting for instructions.

“Today we’re doing solely hand to hand training.” He smiles at me and I know he’s still trying to push my buttons, he knows I get highly more aggressive when engaging in hand to hand combat. He’s also incredibly cocky, thinking he’s going to get away with a lot, especially since the day I got him in the eye.

He gives me no warning when he’s already taking a swing at me. I easily duck out of the way and brace myself. There’s no time to recover before he’s coming at me again. He throws swing after swing at me, and I work to dodge and block them. I can tell he’s not thinking of his movements and is just trying to get as many punches in as he can.

I take advantage of his carelessness and after he throws a certain punch, I push back. I bring my arm up to block his punch while pulling my other arm back to throw a punch into his unprotected stomach. He gets pushed back, not expecting the blow, and I jump at the opportunity to not give him the upper hand.

It’s my turn to throw punch after punch at him, and he isn’t as good as blocking them. He tries to punch back again but I don’t give him the chance to. I make sure he doesn’t get a chance to do anything but try to weakly block my advances.

He crashes to the ground after a particularly hard hit to the jaw, and he brings his arms up with a look of anger on his face. "Hey, you’re not supposed to—" he starts to say something angrily, but I cut him off as I jump on top of him and deliver a hard blow to his cheek. You could hear something pop when it happened, and his face turns to the side as blood starts to drip from his mouth.

I don’t stop as I tap into my anger and continue punching him over and over. His face quickly becomes deformed, swollen, and bloody as I don’t hold any punches back. He starts choking on his blood as he lays there, taking every single punch I throw his way. There are tears in my eyes as I start to scream my anger while still punching him.

I eventually bring myself to stop, tears still streaming down my face as I pant and look down at the beaten-up trainer below me. He’s not moving at all, as if—oh shit. I quickly bring my fingers down to his neck to check for a pulse. I wait for something, anything, but there’s nothing.

I quickly get up from the body and wipe my face with the back of my hands. Think. Think. Think. My mind is going into overdrive trying to figure out what to do. The guard would surely be back any minute; the training sessions don’t go on for that long. If they find me in here with a dead body, there will surely be drastic consequences. I can’t let them find me.

If I leave the room, I’ll be out in the open. You need restricted access to every room in the building. I’ll be stuck in the hallway, just waiting for someone to find me, unless I can get access to the doors.

I look down at the body by my feet and then up to the walls lined with the prop weapons. I quickly run up to the wall with rows of knives on it and try to find the sharpest one I can manage.

I find a switchblade that can’t be any sharper than the corner of a piece of paper, but it’ll have to do. I go back over to the lifeless body and bend down, spreading out his hand face down on the ground.

"I would say sorry, but I would be apologizing to myself for having to do this." I speak to the open air as I grip one of the fingers, holding it still, and bring the knife I have gripped in my palm up and bring it down as hard as I can. I cringe as I hear the bone in the finger crack. The finger is pushed up as the bone breaks, and I keep bringing the knife down into the skin in quick recession as blood splatters on me.

I feel the finger partly break off, and I stop striking the knife down in order to work to pull it off the rest of the way. I drop the knife and put the hand that was holding it on his arm so I can get more leverage on it. I push his arm back and pull the finger with my other hand, and the finger comes off his body with a pop. I stand up and lift up the finger in my hand, blood dripping down onto my arm from the bottom part of the finger where it was ripped off.

“Thank you for your kind contribution.” I say as I inspect the dissevered finger in my grip. I hurriedly make my way to the door to leave the training room, but the door opens before I get there, and the guard that brought me there is standing in the doorway.

@sleeperthelazy @hathay

buy me a coffee ♡

[yanderepuck]

Can we please get a similar one of the arthur x self harm reader with maybe Shakespeare or comte (you choose)

I HAVE NO CLUE WHY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG. I think it sorta got lost in my inbox.

If you want to read the Arthur one is right here

ANYWAY!!! As I say with all of these depressing fics.. I HIGHLY APPRECIATE INTERACTION BUT UNDERSTAND IF YOU CANNOT. THESE FICS CAN BE TRIGGERING BC THEY DEAL WITH SELF HARM AND SUICIDAL ACTIONS

YOU'VE BEEN WARNED BUT IF YOU INTERACT I HIGHLY APPRECIATE IT

Also. This is going to be for Will. I will possibly do Comte a later time. I'm just not too in great at writing him

You lay on the bed looking up at the ceiling. Tears streaming down your face. You have locked yourself in the spare bedroom and now you are pondering. Overthinking.

This is never good. You say you have nothing to keep you busy but this is because you have no motivation to do anything to keep you busy. So you lay there and think. And think. And think.

You're spiraling. You and Will are far too similar. Putting on different masks, hiding who you really are. Hiding how you really feel. You're both good at it. A little too good.

The moment you turn the lock on that door your demeanor changes. One mask to another. Unlocked? You're happy and smiling and saying what you need to say so that no one suspects nothing.

But locked? The facade leaves. Your face drops and so do the tears. Your will to do anything evaporates.

You wish you could lower the mask when the door was unlocked, show Will that you hurt. Show him that you need help. But then you wouldn't be strong. What would he think of you?

He's the one that leaves and works at the theater all day. You have no real issues. What do you have to complain about? So you put the mask back on.

But now you lay here. You found more than just wine in the villa and decided to drink it. Drink it all. You thought if you drank enough that you could just go numb and fall asleep. Forget this even happened and wake up like normal when Will got home.

To feel something other than a heavy weight on your shoulders. Something that wasn't numb. Or feeling like a disgrace. He deserves better than you. Why would he keep you around? It can't possibly be your looks or your charm. He must feel bad for you.

He could drain you of all your body and you would only thank him. But you did that for him already. The alcohol was for more than just getting a little drunk. You simply hoped you would pass out. But since you didn't you grabbed a knife.

The empty bottle is on the floor. The knife is in your hand. But your hand? Lifeless on the bed next to you. The bed is soaking up your blood and you just feel dizzier and dizzier. Was it the alcohol? The loss of blood? You have no clue how deep you went, but the alcohol thinned your blood so there must be a decent amount.

Your eyes flutter. Feeling heavier and heavier. Until they close.

Oddly enough Will came home early that day. He wanted to come home and have lunch with you. He's been so busy and he feels bad that he hasn't made much time for you.

"Darling, I am home," he sounds so happy to be back early. But he gets no response. "Darling?" He starts walking through the villa looking for you.

"Has she went out?" He checks the main room, the kitchen, the bedroom. Nothing. But then notices the spare room door was closed.

They never kept it closed. He goes over and tries to open it, but it's locked.

"Odd," he tries to open it again. He was confused and went to walk away but got a huge whiff of blood. Too much blood.

"Darling?" panic settled in his voice. Did something fall and injure you? Is it blocking the door? He tries shoving the door open. Nothing. He steps back and licks the door. Once. Twice. The door flings open. Nothing was in front of it so what was-

He saw you on the bed and froze. The smell of blood was so strong that he went to cover his nose, but the moment his arm moved he snapped out of it and ran to your side.

"Wake up. Wake up!" he tried to shake you. He saw the knife and tossed it on top of a piece of furniture in there.

"No no no no no," tears start forming. He takes the scarf around his neck off and immediately starts trying it around your arm, as tightly as he can. Then the sash around his waist comes off. That goes around your other arm.

"Wake up!" He puts a hand on your cheek. You're still warm. That's a good sign. "Cometh on darling just move. Just a dram."

His hand moved to your neck to look for a pulse. Who is he kidding he doesn't know how to check for a pulse. So his head rests on your chest and he tries to be quiet, listening for a heartbeat. It's there. Barely, but it's there.

"D-Doth not leave me," the tears start flowing, and once they do they don't stop.

You feel yourself being shaken and groan softly. The first noise you've made in hours. You can't force your eyes open but you can tell someone is there.

What happened? Where are you? You can't move any part of your body, and if you can then you can't feel it.

Will gets so relieved when he hears that groan and hugs you tightly. Your body starts to wake up and as you start to feel the pain you remember what you did.

Oh no. No no no no. You didn't die. And he found you. You weren't supposed to be alive. The only worse than all of that pain might be having to deal with surviving.

"W-Will..." Your voice is weak and raspy.

"Shh. Doth not speak," he sits up and pushes your hair behind your ear. Your eyes opened for a moment and then shut again. Your breathing is heavy.

"Everything is fine anon. I am here." He can barely talk above a whisper. His voice cracks with every word. "Doth not move."

He keeps playing with your hair. Whether it be for his comfort or yours he isn't sure.

The blood is soaking through the scarf already. He wants to move you out of the blood but he is scared. He's scared to leave you for a moment to go get anything to clean your wounds.

"I am here.." he kisses you softly.

You pass out again briefly. You don't know how much time has passed when you wake up, but the room is lit up by a lamp.

Will is laying beside you, an arm around you, covered in your blood. You force your eyes open and look around. You look down at your arms and see that they are bandaged.

Did you really mean to take your own life? You just wanted a few cuts here and there to feel something. You've done it before. What went wrong this time?

You try to sit up and Will immediately shoots up. His face is all red from crying, pieces of his hair clinging to his wet face.

"Doth not move, darling," his hand cups your cheek, his thumb gliding across your cold skin.

You couldn't find the strength to sit up anyway. You can barely move your head to the side to look at him.

Fresh tears form at his eyes from seeing you in so much pain. "W-why?" His voice cracked. "Why? Did I-"

"Will.."

You weren't going to have him blame himself. It was nothing he did. It's all because of you. You're the problem. You were just trying to find a solution.

You move your arm up slowly and rest your hand on top of his that is on your cheek.

"Why did you not tell me? I hath-"

"No," you try to find the energy to talk. He's just going to talk in circles if you let him. "You did nothing wrong."

"Then why?" He wipes his face with the back of his hand the best he can, sniffling.

"Living...hurts," you drag his hand off of your cheek. You don't deserve his touch. Or his tears. You don't even deserve the bandages on your arm.

"That is whetefore I am here, darling. To help thee. We are to do this together are we not?"

Even after this he still wants to help you, but why? You're obviously a problem. You're too difficult to handle.

"Alloweth me to get thee another blanket," he gets off the bed, going through the storage boxes in the room to get a blanket.

You notice his clothes are covered in your blood. Choking back your tears, you close your eyes. Then you feel a blanket covering you. You talk just above a mumble. "I don't deserve any of this. You should have let me-"

"I love you," he wasn't going to let you finish that sentence. "I would not wish any companion in the world but thee. I never known love til thee," he kisses your lips. Your eyes open to look up at him, wondering why he's doing this.

"I would save thee again and again."

His smile is soft and warming.

"I-I'm sorry," the tears start pouring from your eyes. Now that they've started they won't stop. "I'm so-sorry."

He wipes your tears with the cuff of his shirt but they don't stop. "It is okay, darling. You are safe anon."

He kneels down next to the edge of the bed. You hold his arm, not yet strong enough to hold all of him.

"I pray thee. Doth not hide thy emotions," he rests his head beside yours, listening to your cries, and heavy breath.

After a few minutes he stands up, wiping tears from his own face. "Alloweth me to get thee something to eat."

You simply nod your head and let him leave the room.

~~

Tag list~

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @fang-and-feather @xalxtusxiao @namine-somebodies-nobody @ana-thedaydreamer @evil-quartett @ameyoruakiikemenseries @yrenesposts @p1nkpandomium @tele86 @damekathearasi @lokis-laugh @candied-boys @breadmercury @aquagirl1978 @xenokiryu @nightghoul381 @vampiricpancake @lulu-the-smol-floof @faust-bite @azulashengrottospiano

[teaveetamer]

I really don't want to be rude and I'm sorry if it appears that way, but why are you still engaging in all FE discourse? It's clearly not making you happy.

There's many cool project to focus on for FE ( there's a Blue Lions fanzine coming up!! ), and even outside of FE, I'm sure there's many games that could be to your taste? Idk if you already played it, but Baldur's Gate 3 has nearly everything cool FE have while being a really good game!

Discourse make us all miserable and we often end up doing things we regret, if not just for the time wasted talking to asshole. I know how it is, I was there before.

Blocking people and tag then moving on sometimes is for the best ( even asshole like Raxis, he might have stalker-ish behavior but the best that can be done is ignoring him ). I was sad to see your profile bc of random discourse, I would love to find you the same way but this time for speaking of something you love.

Anon I’m going to take this in the best possible faith here, and no I’m not assuming you’re being rude

1) I do have a blog which is ENTIRELY dedicated to just talking about things I love. It’s called my main blog, which used to be linked to this one, but I had to remove that link after one of the more deranged members of the fandom chose to follow it and comment pro-genocide stuff on my fun polls about which PNG is the sexiest. I also still write fanfic, livestream, participate in niche-r discord severs, and run several side blogs and accounts for events and tournaments, none of which I advertise heavily here because, again, a subsection of extremely deranged fans of a particular character seem to take it as an invitation to be extremely deranged.

2) I made this side blog explicitly to quarantine fandom negativity from my more positive endeavors, and frankly I have been trying (key word trying) to wind down its usage for years now because, frankly, I have better things to do and I don’t have that much more to say about 3H itself anyway but…

3) I have blocked the losers who are engaging in this kind of behavior. The problem is that they do not respect that block and continue to stalk, harass, and repost the things I say anyway to various social platforms, which has led to death threats made against me (among other things) because they are unwell beyond anything a block button can fix.

And 4) since I am not the only one these people do this kind of thing to, I figure the least I can do is warn people of their deranged behavior by using what little platform I have here.

So anon if you want to see me do something I enjoy, chances are you’ve already seen me doing it even if you didn’t realize it was me. And if you would like to see this blog stop posting, I highly encourage you to call out dangerous fandom behavior such as stalking, death threats, false accusations of pedophilia, harassment, etc. when you see it.

And sorry this took me a few days. I spent most of the week with a nasty sinus infection and I spent all my energy Thursday on going to work and class

[hoodie-buck]

Weekend WIP Game

Tagged by @wikiangela @thewolvesof1998

Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more)

WIP List:

active (mostly) wips

—murder!boyfriends

—chris doesn't come back au

—baseball au 2.0

—prision!buddie

other wips that are in the abandoned wips folder...maybe i'll return to them one day...

—author!buck

—insurgent au

—platonic fwb

—fwb buck 1.0.2 au

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?

—chris doesn't come back au (a little shy of 14k)

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?

—probably chris doesn't come back au. i've barely gotten into things and am already at almost 14k 💀

4. Which WIP is your favorite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?

—hmm i'm actually having so much fun writing the murder!boyfriends au! i just love making them unhinged 😈

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?

—probably the murder!boyfriends, just bc it is so dark, and i don't want people to hate it. idk i'm afraid i won't be able to pull it off 😩

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?

—the author!buck one. it was just a silly little idea, but writing all the smutty parts for it became kind of intimidating and i ended up hating it and throwing it to the side. i haven't looked back since

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why?

—i've never used a beta reader tbh. i usually just send my friends snippets or things for vibe checks!

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block?

—see above the abandon wips, or any of the ones you haven't seen me posting about lately 🥲

9. Which WIP has your favorite OC? Tell us about them?

—i don't have any OC atm, but i would love to play with that in the future!

10. Which WIP is the sexiest?

—hmm probably the author!au from what i remember or murder!boyfriends just bc i think them being covered in blood and stabbing ppl is sexy 🙊

11. Which WIP is the angstiest?

—chris doesn't come back au. its a pretty heavy one. i love all the threats i get whenever i post a new snippet 😆

12. Which WIP has the best characterization (in your humble opinion)?

—hmmm maybe the chris doesn't come back au? i've had to really deep dive into both their heads for this one

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)?

—chris doesn't come back au bc tsunami episodes my most beloved, but also murder!boyfriends, bc the dark settings are so fun to conjure up!

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?

—chris doesn't come back au. it's the one i've put the most time and effort into as of late. she's been in my ideas for forever and has a special place in my heart <33

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why?

—chris doesn't come back au, mainly for the reason above. she's my babygirl, ok 🥹

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

—mm not that i can specifically think of or remember, but i'm sure i have at some point!

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that that your other fics don't?

—murder!boyfriends is definitely darker than anything i've done before

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humor?

—author!buck is the only one that comes to mind

19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process?

—not currently. i've played around a little with that in the past though. it's always fun diving into others heads!

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs

—i do have a secret wip not listed anywhere above 👀

tagging: @loserdiaz @redlightsandicedtea @honestlydarkprincess @monsterrae1 @onward--upward @barbiediaz @spotsandsocks @buddierights @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @witchesdiaz @jacksadventuresinwriting @wh0re-behavi0r @spaceprincessem @wildlife4life @daffi-990 @hippolotamus @giddyupbuck @disasterbuckdiaz

[cptg00s3]

All the injured soldiers

Gn reader she/they and she/her dni you will be blocked, you have enough fics for yourself.

Tw for this fic:

Lowkey unfinished since I couldn't find the correct words to merge the two prompts I wrote. Might edit this someday but idk. Definitely not proofread. Like no actual romance

Fic doesn't make sense bc I never played cod.

Further no heavy heavy gore and torture of reader (not writing but very much written amd acknowledged)

Now please enjoy

Task Force 141 was on a mission to retrieve a high-value target, a Russian arms dealer, from an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Moscow. The team currently consisted of Soap, Price, Roach, and [Y/n], a skilled field operative with a knack for infiltration and espionage.

As they approached the warehouse, they noticed that the enemy had set up a complex defense system with multiple layers of security. The team split up, with Soap and [Y/n] taking the main entrance while Price and Gaz went around to the back to create a distraction.

However, as soon as Soap and [Y/n] entered the warehouse, they were ambushed by a group of heavily armed soldiers. They fought their way through, taking down one enemy after another, but it was clear that the opposition was better prepared than they had anticipated.

As they made their way deeper into the warehouse, [Y/n] noticed that Soap was starting to get increasingly agitated. He seemed to be more concerned with finding the target than with their safety, and [Y/n] had to keep reminding him to stay focused and stick to the plan.

Despite their best efforts, the team was eventually overwhelmed by the enemy's superior numbers and forced to retreat. As they were making their way out, [Y/n] was hit by a grenade and knocked unconscious.

When [Y/n] woke up, they were in a dark and dank cell with no idea how much time had passed. They were badly injured, with broken ribs and a concussion, and could barely move. It was clear that they had been captured by the enemy, and [Y/n] knew that they were in for a world of pain.

(Supposed timeskip prob)

The team quickly gathered their gear and prepared to move out. Price led the way, his mind set on getting [Y/n] back safely. As they made their way through the dense forest, they could hear the distant sound of gunfire and the occasional explosion. It was clear that [Y/n] was in the thick of it.

The team finally reached the edge of the enemy's compound. Price signaled for everyone to get into position. Ghost and Roach moved to take out the guards at the entrance, while Soap and Price made their way to the back of the compound.

They could hear [Y/n] screaming in agony from inside one of the buildings. Soap felt his blood boil at the sound. He knew they needed to move quickly before it was too late.

Price kicked down the door, and the team rushed in guns blazing. The enemy soldiers were caught off guard and quickly taken out. But as they moved deeper into the compound, they encountered heavy resistance.

Bullets whizzed past their heads as they ducked behind cover. Soap felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as he was hit by enemy fire. He gritted his teeth and continued to fight, his mind focused on getting to [Y/n].

Finally, they reached the room where [Y/n] was being held. The sight that greeted them was gruesome. [Y/n] was tied to a chair, covered in bruises and cuts. Their eyes were swollen shut and blood dripped from their nose.

Soap felt sick at the sight. He had seen his fair share of injuries in his line of work, but this was different. This was someone he cared about, someone he couldn't bear to see in such pain.

Price quickly moved to untie [Y/n], while Ghost and Roach covered their backs. Soap kept his gun trained on the door, ready for any more enemy soldiers that might show up.

As Price freed [Y/n], Soap moved to their side, ready to carry them out of the building. But before they could make their escape, a group of enemy soldiers burst into the room, guns blazing.

The team was outnumbered, and the fight quickly turned into a bloody melee. Soap felt his adrenaline pumping as he fought off the soldiers, his mind focused on protecting [Y/n]. He took a few hits, but nothing could stop him.

Finally, the team emerged victorious, but not without their fair share of injuries. Soap was bleeding from several wounds, but he hardly noticed. All he cared about was getting [Y/n] out of there and back to safety.

As they made their way out of the compound, Soap carried [Y/n] in his arms. They were barely conscious, but Soap could feel their heart still beating. He promised himself that he would do everything in his power to keep [Y/n] safe from now on.

Back at the base, the team worked to patch up their injuries. Soap couldn't stop thinking about [Y/n] and the torture they had endured. He vowed to never let them out of his sight again, to always protect them from harm. He realized that he cared about [Y/n] more than he had ever thought possible, and he wasn't going to let anything happen to them again.

[ccrites]

about me

Hi, i'm CC (she/they), i'm in my 20s, and i've decided to create this side-blog to post my writing, bc my Google docs is getting cluttered, and I want to make a step in feeling less self-conscious about my work. We'll see how long I last

I've been writing since i was like 6, and have gotten into a bad habit of never finishing stuff unless I forced myself to post it somewhere, so I'm hoping this blog will help me go through with it. some stuff will be edited, some not, some ideas, some plots, some horny pwp, some dark stuff, whatever, I just want to get my stuff out there.

currently writing about: call of duty (i know, shocker)

MDNI. 18+ only, if you don't have your age in bio you will be blocked

You can find my old fics on AO3 here and any new stuff from this blog cross-posted on AO3 here or on my Tumblr writing tag here (if the link does not work, it's tagged under "cc writes").

(more info under the cut!)

this is a sideblog, so follows and asks from me don’t come from here. If you find my main, I don't care.

i am not a native English speaker. If you ever think something sounds wrong please tell me

i am both a full time student and have an adulting job at 80% for my master's. if i ever disappear for a few days do not worry, if I post a lot out of a sudden, i might have a deadline coming up and that's me procrastinating (pls yell at me to go back to work)

might be presumptuous of me to assume my stuff would ever get plugged into AI but if it does I will haunt you and move all the stuff in your house one inch so you always stub your toes

if you leave a nice comment I might just combust

I will always try to answer asks, but like, I have to get them first lol

things i don’t write: I am pretty vanilla but depending on the mood I might venture into dark-er stuff. but if anyone asks for piss stuff I will not judge and gently redirect them away from my ask box

greatly inspired by @391780, @soapskneebrace, @ceilidho, @charliemwrites, @ohbo-ohno, @peachesofteal, and so many others talented writers around here i am forgetting right now. I am a big fan and read almost all their stuff, and it has gotten some of my own brain worms wiggling around in here. let's just hope I don't embarrass myself

[sistervirtue]

making a copy of this bc op disabled reblogs and i just got reminded it existed and would like to not lose it

ok so . im outing myself to the world but thats fine this is too funny to not share

so. ive run a roleplay blog for a few years. i keep it separate from my main, yknow, its just a side hobby and ive been doing it since i was like, 12. its cringe but hey yknow at least im not 30 and writing ya novels

now its pretty common for rp blogs these days to have rules. right? you dont want to just bag any weirdo on this website, and as you can imagine bnha roleplayers are batshit crazy (see: conversion therapy todoroki) so mine are pretty strict and detailed. because ive been doing it long enough to be exposed to what counts as carbon monoxide poison from a screen. one of those rules is "if youre mutuals with people who write porn of the kids even aged up im blocking you we're keeping a ten foot pole on this". because as a 20 year old man i have a healthy disinterest in seeing paragraphs of teenagers fucking

so the dash is astir with talk of a guy writing age up bakugou porn and im like ok whatever. make a post bitching about it . mutual likes those posts but then the mutual is turning around and being buddy buddy with this guy so i dm the mutual like hey whats going on here . mutual is like "well why dont you talk it out with him hes not as mean as he seems i prommy" and im like sure whatever i can have civil conversation and if it ends with One Less Person writing weirdo porn then i might be able to get into heaven

so i dm him and he loses his fucking mind. it lasted all of 10 minutes because he was sending paragraphs like this and i was too tired to give a shit

(take note of my icon thats a special tool thatll help us later)

(also he goes by the name rxgelord. WITH the x. thats also important just because its funny as fuck)

so the guys clearly bothered by the idea that people might possibly talk about him without his permission and im a little miffed after being misgendered (which hed do again later) so i just post our dms. swing first and hey batter batter lets play ball i dont give a shit this is bnha roleplay

once again: loses his damn mind. he makes a psa post about me talking about how im just some pussy infant and hes too HARD for me and shit and also they do bakudeku muffin roleplay in the comments of that post which is fucking insane

anyway. at one point while joking about the whole thing i called him a "wannabe bakugou kinnie" as a joke and apparently he felt a very serious need to address this

and im like holllllllllllllly fucking shit

you may have noticed that his posts are incredibly over-formatted. this goes for everything he does he is pouring a LOT of time and energy into typing his 9 paragraphs about how im an insane bitch or whatever. (if theres literally one thing i can give him credit on its that his graphic editing skills are kinda good. i will be honest) his rules document is also just as insane and features gems such as:

(this dude thinks hes pulling bitches on a bnha roleplay blog)

so we're just full on ragging on him at this point and hes getting MADDDDDDD MAD. he misgenders me again and when i point it out he has the following excuse:

(art by @/pcktknife. anyways)

after a certain point i get dmd an old copy of a 130+ page callout he had a year prior and im like WHAT and it included his yugioh rp blog career and various allegations like having been involved in gang violence, doxxing, etc. also a picture of the hickies he bragged about leaving on his uwu pink glitter gf which looked more like he was trying to go for the killing bite but hey. yknow. apparently im a toddler idk how that works

along in this we also find his twitch account, which was under the name rxgelord, and it featured edited graphics of his real life face with bakugou. he posts selfies a lot too i wont share them even if theyre public but he has knuckle tats and a goatee and uses the greyscale filter. if this gives you an idea. he also had 5 twitch followers and detailed his desire to be a rapper/dj and im like holllllly fucking shit this guy cant be a real person. holy fuck.

anyways. skipping a lot of unnecessary bullshit and paragraphs of text with gifs from 2013 attached hes constantly going on about how we wont just "say it to his face" which i think is hilarious bc i was, the entire time. but im like ok fine you want me so bad

so i send him this. he posts about how "he won when he got all might" (for some reason hes calling my ex mutual by the character name. i dont know) and then hasnt posted in 4 days. he deleted his twitch. im a little worried bakugou. dont say that. may have actually chased this man off the internet . to go have real life sex with his real life girlfriend so he isnt so mad

anyway we ended up turning one of his posts into an eminem uberduck

im honestly probably forgetting something this was so much and it was so fucking funny and honestly im glad to have been there

update: he has not in fact posted since last summer. god bless.

[lcvernat]

Insecurities | Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Request: hello you are one of my fave authors here i super love your works. can i req for a r x natasha where reader has this visual disorder (like her eyes' grade was 1000 and has astigmatism) thats why reader were wearing eye glasses for a long time then this moment when the team was asking for a picture reader takes off her glasses bc she had low self esteem, nat comforts her. thank you and i'll patiently wait for this ❤️

Word Count: 1.6k

Content Warnings: angst with happy ending, low self-esteem, reader is very insecure, some strong language, natasha is the best

A/N: i am so sorry anon this took so long but i hope you like it! fellow glasses wearers rise! this honestly lowkey turned into a bit of a vent but we aren't going to talk about that. i finally got another fic out after months i'm so sorry, but i think i've managed to get passed the writers block and i have motivation to write now! so send in requests or whatever, and expect more fics.

You had always been insecure. Ever since you were young, you hadn’t ever found yourself liking the way you look. Sometimes it even felt like your insecurities had been engrained into your DNA, so you’d always feel this way. You had always had terrible vision, and have been wearing glasses for practically your entire life, which is likely one of the main causes of your low self esteem.

It wasn’t as if glasses were the beauty standard either. Any time you opened a magazine, or looked on Instagram, none of the celebrities or models you saw wore glasses. If, by chance, a character in a film did wear glasses, they were mainly seen as the nerdy, geeky, weird and annoying outcast. None of the popular or 'beautiful' characters ever wore glasses. It sucked. Big time.

Despite that, you’d have to say it’s quite ironic how you were more than likely seen as a nerd in high school. You were extraordinarily smart, exceeding in all of your classes and being the top of the class in each one almost effortlessly. So, it was to no one’s surprise that you were smart enough to get a job as a SHIELD agent. You weren’t a field agent and you didn’t do hand to hand combat - your vision and glasses would’ve caused too much problems (contacts were too expensive, and you didn’t much like them either) - so you were one of the agents who hacked into databases and gathered intel.

At SHIELD is where you met who would unknowingly become your future girlfriend, Natasha Romanoff. To be completely honest, sometimes you sit and wonder how you had managed to make her fall for you. You certainly weren’t anything extraordinary, you were average (or less than average, in your opinion) but her? Natasha Romanoff had to be the most gorgeous, angelic and sweetest person you had ever met. You had fallen for her as soon as her eyes met yours.

Fellow SHIELD agents had warned you about the Black Widow; ‘she’s incredibly intimidating’, ‘someone once said she made multiple men piss themselves out of fear’, ‘she’s so scary, I would hate to get on her bad side’. While that part is, admittedly, true, under her hard exterior you saw someone who loved her family and friends unequivocally and would not hesitate to die protecting them.

She was the best girlfriend you could’ve ever asked for. She showered you with love and gifts that you didn’t need, she knew exactly how to cheer you up and she remembered the little things that you couldn’t even remember telling her. But you didn’t deserve her. She deserved better. You saw the way people looked at you, ‘why is she with them? what does she see in them?’, whether out of jealousy or spite, it didn’t matter, because you couldn’t help but believe them. No matter how many times Natasha tells you differently.

Dating an Avenger meant that you usually got to join in when the team have ‘fun days’, and you’ve practically been dubbed Honorary Avenger at this point. The team had the day off and had so decided to take a trip to an amusement park. You had split up into separate cars. In your one; Sam was driving, Steve was shotgun, you, Natasha and Peter were in the back. Peter had complained he’d been shoved in this car so ‘the adults could babysit him even though he’s old enough to take care of himself’.

It was going great, music was blasting, everyone was laughing and telling jokes and Nat had packed some snacks for everyone. That is, until it wasn’t going so great for you.

“Isn’t that right, specky?” Steve guffawed after telling a story about some form of shenanigans you had got up to one night when you were drunk. You couldn’t remember it, but it was the nickname that had made your smile falter and your voice quieten to a whisper. Even though you had been called it as a joke for most of your life, and you knew Steve only meant it as such, it also targeted your biggest insecurity. Jokes that target insecurities aren’t funny, at least to you.

Natasha had instantly noticed your change in demeanour. She put a comforting arm around your shoulder and turned her gaze momentarily to glare at Steve, “Steve,” she said, her tone stern. The atmosphere in the car immediately tensed, and Sam quietly turned the music down.

“What?” Steve asked, “It was just a joke!”

“That wasn’t fun-“

You interrupted Natasha, “It’s fine, really,”

She looked at you, and you could tell she didn’t believe you. You squeezed her free hand reassuringly, “I promise,” she still wasn’t convinced, but dropped it either way. You were quiet for the rest of the car ride.

Upon arrival at the amusement park, Tony had gathered the entire team in for a group photo. He had asked a random woman to take the photo, who looked equally starstruck and scared to be in front of and taking a photo of the Avengers.

"Y/N, you should take your glasses off!" Tony suggested as he handed the woman his phone and got into line.

Your head whipped towards him, "What?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, "It's just a suggestion, we've never saw you without them before,"

You merely nodded as you felt Natasha's hand squeeze yours, you glanced at her to find her looking at you with a soft smile on her face. You knew each other well enough that sometimes conversation wasn't needed, and you knew she was telling you to only take them off if you were comfortable.

You drew in a deep breath before carefully taking off your glasses, your vision immediately going blurry - it was impossible for you to see anything around you - but at least it was only for the photo. You placed them gently into your pocket. Natasha squeezed your hand again at the same time the woman said, "Say cheese!"

The only sound that filled your ears was all of the Avengers and you saying a chorus of 'Cheese!'. You had a big smile on your face, even though deep inside you your insecurities were gnawing away at you. Tony ran to check the photo as you put your glasses back on, following the rest of the team to see it.

They all tried to gather around Tony, crowding over a tiny phone to see a tiny photo - which obviously wasn't working - so Tony resorted to passing the phone to each person so everyone could get a chance to see it clearly. When it was your turn, your eyes immediately went to you, and you had to stifle a sigh. Once again, you saw nothing worth being called beautiful. Natasha beside you was radiant, the massive smile she had on was one of pure happiness due to being surrounded by the people she loved. She was glowing. You looked dull beside her. You quickly gave the phone to Peter, who was standing beside you, wanting to see it.

Natasha instantly knew something was wrong. "Go on ahead, we'll catch up," she said to the rest of the team who walked away, giving you two some privacy.

"Y/N," she said, standing in front of you.

You avoided her gaze, "Hm?"

The redhead let out a sigh before cupping your cheeks, forcing your gaze to focus on her, "You know I love you, right?"

You didn't answer, so she continued, "You're beautiful," you scoffed but before you could say anything she cut in, "no, really, you're gorgeous. Not just outside, but inside. You have such a beautiful soul. You are so kind to everyone, and everyone who knows you absolutely adores you. Trust me, I've heard the team and SHIELD agents talk about how amazing you are. I'm not bullshitting you. You are so smart, honestly the most intelligent person I've ever met and on top of that you are so pretty," she could tell you didn't believe her, but she pushed on, "listen to me, you only see yourself when your posing for photos, you don't see yourself when you have a genuine, real smile on your face, or when you're laughing at something funny, or when you have a spark in your eye because you're doing something you love. But I do. I see you in those rare moments, and in those moments I swear to you I think you must have been an angel sent down from heaven. It was only inevitable that I was going to fall for you."

By the end of Natasha's rant, tears had sprung to your eyes. She said it with so much ferocity, so much conviction, that you couldn't help but believe her.

"Plus," she kissed the tip of your nose, "I think your glasses are adorable. You might hate them, but some people love them enough to buy fake glasses when they don't even need them,"

She had a point. You smiled at her and she returned the smile, her hand moving down to grab yours. You entwined your hands together, "I love you," you said, placing a chaste kiss on her temple.

"I love you most, now let's go catch up with the team,"

You both walked hand in hand, shortly catching up with the team as they hadn't made it very far (Thor saw a cotton candy stand and insisted everyone get one). You were feeling a lot better than you had 10 minutes ago, the words Natasha said to you repeating in your head, squashing the insecurities that had plagued your mind today. Sometimes you wondered how you ended up with such an incredible girlfriend.

[myfairkatiecat]

I saw you reblogged the random asks post. And since I know you like musicals, what are your top 3 and do you have a least favorite musical?

Yesss I love random asks, and I’m excited about this one bc I love musicals!!

My favorite of ALL TIME is wicked, and anyone who calls me a fake theater kid for that is the real fake theater kid bc they aren’t secure enough in their theater-kid-ness to like a popular musical. Yes, almost everyone knows it, but the reason I like it is because I am a SUCKER for villain backstories/tragic heroes/antagonist redemption etc. This is why I am obsessed with Anakin Skywalker’s story and also can’t stop writing Good Nathaniel Benedict fanfic? So Elphaba is just amazing to me because she has such a believable side of the story while also doing things we know are morally questionable, AND she sings the coolest songs about it. no good deed is quite possibly one of my favorite musical songs ever. All of wicked’s music sounds like epic movie soundtrack but with lyrics and I’m HERE FOR IT. You wouldn’t believe how much wicked fanfic I’ve read.

My second favorite is newsies!! My five year old foster brother is currently obsessed with it and can sing all the lyrics to most of the songs, which is the most adorable thing in the world. The newsies are all adorable, and in the movie version Jack is Christian Bale and in the proshot he’s Jeremy Jordan so like, main character is easy on the eyes either way lol. Also Katherine is so relatable. She sings about writer’s block, she sings my soul!! All the ensemble songs are so powerful and the L Y R I C S! I could do a whole other post on my favorite newsies lyrics. You go Feldman. It’s good stuff.

My third favorite is probably Next to Normal, because not only is the music fire, it’s amazing at the way it portrays how mental illness affects the people who surround you. Also, Aaron Tveit is in it, and his voice is hot (and also he is hot) so that is an automatic YES!

My least favorite is SpongeBob the musical. The music is bad and my perfect pitch can’t handle Texas Song.

Thank you for the ask :D hope you enjoyed my ramblings!

[chayscribbles]

chayscribbles’ monthly writing update ☆ august/september 2023 double feature

☆ STATISTICS.

words written: 4273 in august; none in september BUT that's because i did a lot of revising

projects worked on: Gemini Heist in august; Andromeda Rogue in september, then procrastinated so hard i ended up writing a few paragraphs on Third, Secret Wip

proudest accomplishment: i compiled all my AR1 beta feedback without giving in to the urge to set the book on fire and also myself

books read: Network Effect (Murderbot Diaries #5) by Martha Wells

☆ GENERAL COMMENTS.

so basically i started off august decently solid, working on gemini heist while andromeda rogue was off being torn apart by the betas. (i'm joking. it didn't get torn apart. i think you guys were being way too nice actually.)

and then all kinds of shit hit the fan in my personal life all at once in mid-august. both good and bad. it was a lot.

anyways the first half of september was spent recovering from all that, BUT i took a week off work mid-september to catch my breath and also get back into writing, and it was really good for me.

on another note! i am very seriously considering making an etsy shop for some of my art, because as much as i loathe the thought of monetizing my hobbies, we are living in a cost of living crisis, and i don't wanna be in my ice water soup era forever, ha. anyways stay tuned. (and if you think it would be a good idea/you think yourself or others would be interested in buying things PLEASE LET ME KNOW. EXPLICITLY. because otherwise i will assume no one cares and the idea will fizzle out.)

more specific wip-related comments + featured excerpt below.

☆ COMMENTS: ANDROMEDA ROGUE (draft 2 editing)

i went through all the beta comments during my week off and while i am glad it doesn't look like i'll have to do any more BIG rewrites, editing sucks and i want to give up.

☆ COMMENTS: THE GEMINI HEIST (draft 0.5. okay fine it's draft 1 but i feel better about myself if i call it draft 0.5 okay)

honestly when i was working on this feels sooo long ago i don't even remember what there is to say?

i hit 20K at some point in august. i think.

OH YEAH i "finished" act 2/7. the quotation marks are because i absolutely did not finish it, i only finished writing all the main plot-relevant scenes and skipped anything else. which means there's like a whole chapter and a half that haven't actually been written bc they're probably gonna be exposition or character building stuff that i haven't figured out yet and i'm hoping will be easier once i know what actually happens in the rest of this story. (reminder that i am a plantser.)

anyways i suspect this wip will be going dormant again for a while as i focus on getting AR ready for publishing. (sidenote it's been over a year since i started the GH draft and i feel like i've done fuck all on it besides come up with useless lore and make extremely specific playlists. world's slowest writer. the playlists slap, though.)

☆ FEATURED EXCERPT.

uh have this random snippet of Euna about to pop off!

Somewhere far, far, away, Leo was shouting, “Just get your ass out of there, Li!” but her voice seemed muffled in Euna’s ears, blocked out by the rage that had been steadily mounting ever since that guard shot her arm and ruined the fight for her. All she could hear was the blood rushing through her own ears, the buzz of the guard’s electrified gauntlets, the crackle of the electricity in her own hand. She reared her good fist back and slammed it into the guard’s face. Their nose made a sickening crunch against Euna’s knuckles. Blood flowed down over their mouth and chin as they staggered back, but Euna wasn't done. Her right arm, still spouting sparks, swung into the side of their head, finally bringing them down. Before they could get up again, Euna dropped on top of them, pinning them to the ground with her knees on their chest. She grabbed their shoulders and yanked their upper body off the floor, preparing to slam them down one last time— Purple light surrounded her. For a frightening second, she couldn’t move. Then she was thrown off the guard and dragged, upside-down, through the air towards the exit.

☆ TAGLISTS. let me know if you want to be added/removed to any of them.

general taglist:

@nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @onomatopiya @quilloftheclouds @ashen-crest @writeblrfantasy @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @extra-magichours @avi-why @lefttigerobservation @chazzawrites @bardolatrycore @innocentlymacabre

andromeda trilogy taglist:

@bebewrites @nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @onomatopiya @akindofmagictoo @quilloftheclouds @nora-theteawriter @ashen-crest @corpsepng @writeblrfantasy @toboldlywrite @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @cheerfulmelancholies @extra-magichours @writeouswriter @cilly-the-writer @lefttigerobservation @rose-bookblood @drowsy-quill @chazzawrites @cynic-and-chief @enchanted-lightning-aes @aesa @outpost51

gemini heist taglist:

@florraisons @akindofmagictoo @cream-and-tea @nicola-writes @memento-morri-writes @antique-symbolism @rose-bookblood @afoolandathief @pepperdee @avi-why @zonnemaagd @chazzawrites @analogued @enchanted-lightning-aes @innocentlymacabre @kahvilahuhut @celestepens @cilly-the-writer @extra-magichours @onomatopiya @outpost51

[ace-malarky]

Golden Years

It's a writing share Thursday I have decided so have some of the Feral family and Llinos being a Whole Badass bc I wanted to explore some Fun lineage powers

~~

 The building was a burnt-out husk, but Tamhas could imagine what it might have looked like in its heyday.

 He almost remembered it, actually.

 “This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” Tadg asked, echoing Tamhas’ thought.

 “Like a memory,” Tamhas agreed. “But I don’t…” He stiffened, ears twitching as he heard something.

 Tadg stopped a second later, tilting his head towards the old building.

 There was someone in there.

 They exchanged a glance and tightened their respective grips on their weapons.

 “Hello?” Tadg called out.

 “Ah, boys, you came!” Tilde stepped out through what once would have been the building’s main doors. “How delightful.”

 “Where is she?” Tamhas asked. “Where’s Llinos?”

 The human smiled. “All in good time, boys. Let me show you around first. It has been a long time since you stepped foot in here, isn’t it?” She looked back up at the ruin.

 Tamhas looked up at the structure, taking in the skeletal remains of the upper floors, the roof beyond them gone. It would have been grand, once.

 “This is our home?” Tadg asked. “I remember… burning. Maybe.” He glanced at Tamhas.

 Tamhas shrugged. They followed Tilde inside the burnt walls.

 “That was a nasty business. All in search of a legend.”

 “What do you know of it?” Tamhas trailed behind Tadg, keeping a careful distance from Tilde.

 The walls were scorched black and bare, and the ceiling was broken through in places, letting the stars shine through. There was nothing left but ash. Either everything had burnt or been stolen.

 “All in good time,” Tilde repeated. She led them without pausing through the corridors towards the back of the building. Of the mansion.

 There was a door that had not burned. It wasn’t even marked.

 Tilde knocked at it, and the door swung open. She turned to the twins and beckoned them to enter first.

 “Is Llinos in there?” Tamhas asked. He sniffed at the air, but all he could smell was ash, somehow. Still, after all these years.

 “All your questions will be answered,” Tilde replied. “But please, enter.”

 Tamhas fought to keep his ears from going back. His tail twitched against his legs.

 “Don’t keep him waiting.”

 He pressed up against Tadg’s side.

 The room beyond the door was large, opening up far more than either of them expected. There weren’t any windows, and the ceiling was intact. There were paintings along the walls, of people both human and fox-bonded. Some of them looked familiar, in that they shared features with each other. With Tamhas and Llinos and Tadg, more so the ones that were simply human. Tamhas saw his eyes, saw Llinos’ courtesy smile, saw Tadg’s grin.

The floor was polished wood, and a rug had been pushed to the side to reveal an inset block of white marble. Beyond it was a desk, and against the desk leant a cloaked figure.

 “My, you’ve certainly grown since I last saw you. Such is the passage of time, I suppose.”

 “Who are you?” Tamhas asked.

 “And where’s Llinos?” Tadg scanned the room, leaning as if to see around the figure.

 “I remember this place in its golden years,” the figure said, ignoring their questions. “Or – well, I remember the stories of it. They were failing already when I was young, and when you two were boys – well.” He shrugged, spreading his gloved hands wide. “But you can help me restore all that. I just need one thing from you.”

 Tadg pulled free his short sword. “Where is our sister?”

 He laughed. “You know, I have no idea. I really thought she’d be here by now!” He stood up. “I hope she hasn’t been too badly waylaid. Otherwise, this really isn’t the family reunion I had thought it might be.”

 “What are you talking about? The rest of our family’s… dead.”

 “Open the vault, boys.” The figure touched a foot to the marble. “One of you should be able to. Then we’ll see about that claim of yours.”

 Tamhas stared at his foot. It was more of a paw, really, covered in white fur. “You’re – like us?”

 “Open the vault, boys.”

 Tamhas let out a strangled yelp as Tilde grabbed his arm, twisting it back and pulling him off-kilter before he could do anything.

 Tadg whirled to face her, short sword raised, but she had a dagger at Tamhas’ throat.

 “Do as he says,” Tilde says, her voice silky in Tamhas’ ear.

 “Alright, alright!” Tadg set his sword on the ground, crouching to examine the slab of stone.

 There were no markings on it.

 Tadg pressed a hand to it, trying to find a seam. Nothing. “I… I don’t know how.”

 “How many tails have you?” The figure stalked forward.

 “What? Just the one.” Tadg looked up at him.

 The figure was wearing a mask under the hood of his cloak, but his eyes glittered faintly red through it.

 “Useless.” He kicked Tadg in the side, the force sending him tumbling across the floor until he fetched up against the wall. “You.” He pointed at Tamhas. “Open it.”

 Tilde let go of him.

 “Tadg–” Tamhas started towards his brother.

 “The vault first.” The figure latched his hand about Tamhas’ wrist.

 He was smaller, but as Tamhas took another look at Tadg – he was still conscious, trying to push himself up to sitting, hand at his ribs – the figure forcibly yanked him onto the marble.

 “Fine!” Tamhas dropped to his knees.

 He pressed both hands into the stone. There was nothing to it. It was a block of stone, nothing more. Barely even an edge where the wood stopped around it.

 “Come on,” Tamhas hissed at it.

 “Step away from my brother.” Her voice was a hoarse snarl, something animal and furious in it.

 Tilde gasped behind him.

 “Well, well, well… you finally made it.”

 Tamhas chanced a glance over his shoulder.

 Llinos had bonded since the last time he’d seen her. Her fur was more of a russet than her hair had been, her throat creamy white against the battered brown of her leather armour. Her armour was scarred and smeared with blood, but she was standing steady. Her ears were flattened back, her teeth bared in a snarl, and she had an arrow trained on the cloaked man’s chest.

 “I mean it. Step away.”

 Kaua and Jasper stepped into the room around her. Jasper went straight to Tadg, while Kaua stayed near Llinos, eyes on Tilde.

 The figure put his food down on Tamhas’ hand, pinning him there. “Or what, Llinos?” He applied pressure and Tamhas hissed out a curse, wrapping his other hand about his ankle. “You’re hardly going to kill–”

 Llinos shifted her hand minutely and fired. “Get fucked.”

 He stumbled back, not quite reaching the desk before he fell to the ground.

 Kaua charged to meet Tilde before she could turn on Tamhas, sweeping up her sword in a vicious attack.

 “Tamhas?” Llinos took another arrow from the quiver strapped to her leg. “You alright?”

 Tamhas flexed his hand. “Yes. But Tadg–” He twisted to look over at his twin.

 Jasper had him sitting upright, carefully feeling for injuries. Tadg gave Tamhas a thumbs up, even as he winced.

 Llinos stalked forward.

 Tamhas got to his feet, falling in beside her. “They said they had you, that if we didn’t come out here, they’d hurt you.”

 The figure was struggling, one hand on the arrow sticking out of his shoulder. “You missed,” he said.

 “I never miss,” Llinos pushed back his hood, pulling off his mask.

 He was another fox feral, mostly white with black ears and black markings around his eyes, which were dark blue with an encroaching red rim. There were fainter black markings across his head, disappearing under the collar of his cloak.

 “Uncle Domhnall?” Llinos froze.

 “Hello, niece.” He smiled. “How nice to see you again.”

 “We have – I thought everyone else was dead? They all died?” Tamhas looked at Llinos.

 “I thought so too.” She threw his mask away. “What the fuck.”

 “The family was fading, you wouldn’t understand. The power, the influence they used to have–”

 “So you burnt them all?” Llinos placed a foot on his stomach, keeping him on the floor.

 “I was trying to get into the vault.”

 “It’s locked to us for a reason,” Llinos snarled.

 Tamhas felt his fur reacting like static. It felt like there was a thunderstorm coming, but there were just Llinos beside him.

 As he watched, her single tail unfurled. Eight more formed like crackling spectres.

 “Llinos?”

 “You can open it!” Domhnall said, his eyes wide. “Bring back the golden years for us, Llinos!”

 The light in the room went.

 Kaua swore.

 Llinos was lined with lightning, her spectral tails like a banner behind her. She leant down to place a hand on the arrow sticking out of Domhnall’s shoulder.

 Tamhas reached out to her, unsure what he could even do to stop her. Unsure if he very much wanted to.

 “Those years are gone, uncle. They’re in the ground with the rest of our family.”

 A spark ran down the arrow. Domhnall cried out and went limp.

 Llinos’ spectral tails vanished, and they were left in darkness.

 “Fuck that was hot,” Kaua muttered.

 Tadg snorted and then hissed at the pain.

 “You really had to take out the light,” Jasper said, sighing.

 “Bite me, catboy, you have night vision.”

 “I don’t,” Kaua said. “I don’t think our friend here does, either.”

 There was a groan from Tilde.

 “He’s not… dead, is he?” Tamhas asked.

 Fire flared up from the edge of the room as Jasper lit a torch.

 Domhnall was lying limp at their feet.

 “No, he’ll be fine.” Llinos checked his pulse. “He’ll just be out for a while, that’s all.”

 “Remind me never to get on your bad side,” said Tadg as Jasper helped him over.

 “God, you’re all still taller, this is ridiculous.”

 “I told you there wasn’t any height difference.” Jasper laughed at her.

 Tamhas stepped around to stand on Tadg’s other side, putting some space between himself and Llinos.

 “What about this one?” Kaua asked.

 Tilde was on her knees in front of Kaua, sporting a swelling bruise about one eye and clutching at her wrist.

 “She was the one that’s been in contact with us. She said you were in danger,” Tamhas said.

 “Probably been spying on us for a while.”

 Jasper frowned at her, tilting his head almost as if trying to remember her.

 “Oh, she’ll have some answers for us as well then.” Llinos smiled, all teeth and hard eyes.

 “Fuck I’m going to marry you some day.”

 “You still haven’t?”

 Jasper groaned. “I’m trying.”

 “Try harder.” Tadg elbowed him and smirked.

 “Do you know what he meant by the golden years?” Tamhas asked. He tried not to stare at the space where Llinos’ spectral tails had been.

 Llinos shrugged. “Old and rich family. It’s always better for them in the Old Days. Before anyone alive remembers.”

 Tamhas looked down at the stone. “We’re not opening that, are we?”

 Llinos snorted. “I wouldn’t know how. Probably best left locked.”

 “Come on.” Kaua hefted the unconscious woman. “You can take him.”

 Tamhas glanced at Tadg, who was only slightly leaning on Jasper, and stooped to pick up their… their uncle. Llinos ducked under his other arm and offered Tamhas a slight smile.

 Tamhas glanced back once at the vault. Yeah. Probably better not.

[lgbtimelords]

Hiya

🍉🍎🍊🫐

Hi!!!! Thanks for the ask 🥹🥹

🍉 Do you prefer to write short fics or long fics? Multichaptered works or single ones? Why?

All of the above? All of the above!

I started up writing short one shots so I'm very fond of those but now it's hard to find an idea and not make them into a multichapter or a very long one shot.

Also multichapters are much more fun because you get to add a bunch of silly things and moments that maybe I wouldn't add into a one shot but the stress!!! The timelines!!! The unfinished works!!!!

Once a one shot is done and posted it is OUT OF SIGHT OUT OF MIND and I love that

So....both?

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🍎 Is there anything you straight-up won’t write?

You'll catch me dead before I write one of those dubious consent and personality red-k Kara that goes and fucks Lena. Like, I get people love them and all and I respect it but every time I've read one they've given me such ooc and bad vibes that I can't seem to like them. So I'd probably never write that. (I'm aware it's probably because ppl use red k to make Kara act in a way I wouldn't and our opinions of it are different but like I said, I respect it but I'm definitely not a fan of that trope lol)

Also I hate love triangles with a passion so most likely I won't write a long and tiring with a million backs and forths love triangle between anyone.

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🍊 Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more? (They’re so interesting! But maybe you have trouble pinning them down, or keep getting distracted by another blorbo…)

Kelly tbh. I adore her but I know any story with her would obviously have a lot of Alex and I'm not that big of a fan of Alex (I literally get a few days of writer's block if I have to write a big Alex scene with either Kara or Lena) sooo that's probably why I put it off. Plus imo the more interesting side of Kelly was her career in physiology and what she was doing with obsidian tech than being a vigilante (although that part is also cool but leaves me, personally, with less ideas for her) AND I always get distracted by my main girls and since writing takes me so much mental energy, I always focus on them

---

leaving 🫐 for another ask bc someone else used it 🫶

[anonofseasons]

Here I go...? Weird timing on my end, but despite a hectic weekend and Monday, I'm feeling chill. So. Reveal time? I hope I do not regret haha... I'm MCalhen (link to AO3). Yup, a couple of you know me bc I like your writing a lot. I'm the bringer of long comments! I'm so sorry, I've deceived you. 😔 Most of my work is currently locked in a collection, so there's not much still public. When I felt apprehensive about my writing last summer, a friend suggested a collection. A few fics will remain in "fic jail", while some might be brought out again if I ever edit them. Some are old and should remain privately archived, and one is a fan theory that has since been disproved. :P (And the Brain fic is also canonically wrong now. Thanks, KH.)

I have four blogs on tumblr but the writing one is @mcalhenwrites (also my main, so sometimes I reblog stuff to it, but I'm not active in fandoms lately) I do have a crochet blog that I seldom use and deleted nearly everything off of a couple of years ago. It's @mcalhencreations if anyone is interested... I currently only have one twitter account, it's for my writing. I keep deleting my fandom accounts on there. I'd remake one if I could transfer my massive block list. I have a goodreads that currently only gets used for reading, even though I am an "author" (and of my four books, only three are listed under this name and only my two attempts at erotica are even still for sale).

If you want to read the antithesis to Vivian's parenting, I have Wandering Souls. Sibling fluff? Language of Flowers. Rascal might be off-putting due to all the kink, but I assure you it has heartwarming moments, sibling bonding (takes some time to get there tho), and daddy issues. It's also complete, tho I have side stories and AUs I'm tinkering with~ I've got some more original work posted on my pillowfort, but I don't remember what bc it's been forever since I used it... Most of my other original writing hasn't been published yet, but I'm working on the edits for self-publishing my novel, Geckos, Automata. If you want a comprehensive list of my stories that are in progress, I miiiight type one up on google docs? (Not on tumblr. It gets mad if I make long posts.) I have an expansive dragon universe that covers several novels. The most recent I've been working on is called The Dragons' Cosmos, though Seasons sort of put it on hold. It's fantasy/scifi, and there are dragons, but also people. In fact, abuse is a pretty common theme in that series. Wayne is worse than Vivian, fortunately his son succeeds in running away - off the planet, in fact~ Feel free to peruse my bookmarks on AO3 or my read list on goodreads, there are damn good authors in there. ;) (Do not be surprised if I delete this in a fit of anxiety! Might be "too late" but that won't stop me.)