#but we'll be back to our regularly scheduled programming soon enough...

[emjiroki]

Arthur Morgan brainrot is hitting me very hard right now...

[xx-rpr-obsessions]

Been down in the dumps for a few weeks now...I just want to tear my skin off.

[baocean]

flirt

nice!rafe x reader college au

when rafe cameron finally takes an interest in you, you think its just another one of his one night stands

warnings - smut, swearing, partying and drinking

get comfy, grab a snack, because baby its longgger. i spent all day on this :) (hahaha ha ha h a) anyways, i wanted a nice, possibly even goofy rafe instead of him being batshit crazy all the time. so please forgive the personality change, we'll be back to our regularly scheduled programs soon.

when rafe cameron entered the room, everyone swooned. the football star of unc chapel hill, the hottest guy on campus, the flirt. everyone would gladly drop to their knees for him, except you.

it was like something was wrong with you. because you absolutely did not understand what everyone was always going on about over him.

sure, he was tall and handsome. he was good at football. but he seemed like a complete jerk.

you were a sophomore at unc, rafe was a junior. you’d become very familiar with the horror stories of being around and getting with rafe cameron.

he fucks girls then leaves them on read, picks fights for no reason, drinks way too much, and has a god awful ego.

you just did not get it.

at the party, in some worn out, dirty frat, you stood with your friends in a corner, people watching and giggling.

it had been a fun night so far, meeting new people and having a few too many shots.

but when rafe cameron and his friends walked into the room, everyone’s attention was on him.

you saw him, and wanted to scream ‘boooo’. rolling your eyes, you walked away from your enchanted friends towards the makeshift bar.

a drunk frat brother poured you another drink as your phone dinged. you went to check it, and when you looked back up, there he was, in all his materialistic glory.

“hey angel.” rafe lifted the corner of his lip, handing you the cup the brother just filled.

“thank you.” you smiled for only a second, hopefully fast enough he didn’t even see it, then started to walk away.

“hey, wait!” rafe called behind you, useless. you took a guess that tonight, it was your turn to be the special girl in rafe cameron’s life. you didn’t want that title.

your friends stared in bewilderment as rafe cameron stalks behind you, and pulls on your arm ever so gently to get you to turn around.

“what’s your name?” he asks, his face blank of any little smirk he had before.

“depends on who’s asking.” you shrug, taking a small sip of the juice from your cup. it was strong.

“me.” he clarified, a look on his face telling you should have already known that.

“oh. then, no.” you give him a sweet smile. he scoffs, shaking his head.

“and if it’s for my homeboy over there?” his long finger sticks out and points towards one of his friends, one you’d seen on campus before, but couldn’t put a name to his face.

“oh, if it’s for him, get him to come over here and i’ll tell him myself.”

“what’s your problem with me?” rafe’s face scrunched up, crossing his arms over his chest.

“i don’t have a problem, im just not interested.” you give him one last sickly sweet smile, before returning to the group of friends, patiently waiting to interrogate you.

it had only been a few days since your’s and rafe’s interaction. you hadn’t thought about it much, after getting home to your apartment and debriefing your friends, it had slipped out of your mind completely.

that was, until, you saw him walk into the coffee shop you were studying at.

immediately, you ducked your head, hoping not to get spotted.

he went up to the counter and ordered, fiddling with a straw in his hands, back turned to you.

you thought maybe he had missed you, so with a sigh of relief, you went back to your schoolwork.

“hi, angel.” you cringed at the voice. looking up, there he was.

he was wearing a bandana, tied around his head, some old carhart jacket. he had good style, you’ll give him that.

“oh, hey.” you tried your best to not sound so sincere.

“how’ve you been?” he asked, inviting himself to take a seat across from you.

“great. how about you?” his smile lit up his face, thinking he was finally getting somewhere with you.

he went to answer, when you cut him off, “i’m so sorry, i don’t know your name?” it came out more of a question, a dare.

his smile faltered for a second, and you took that as a win, before he stuck his hand out in between you two.

“i’m rafe cameron.” despite protests, you took his hand in yours to shake it, ignoring how much of a difference in size there was.

he raised his eyebrows, “your turn.”

“still not interested. lovely to see you, though.” you let go of his hand, putting your focus back into your schoolwork.

he scoffed, stood over you for a second, appearing to be looking at something on the table in front of you.

he chuckled, low, then bent down a bit. “i’ll see you later, yn.”

he picked up his coffee and walked out the door without a second glance. alarm bells were going off in your head. how could he possibly know your name?

you grabbed your cup to take a sip, and realization hit you like a brick. on the side of the plastic, your name was written in simple black sharpie.

recently, practice hadn’t been fun. especially since rafe realized the football team practices right next to the women’s soccer team. and also, since rafe found out you were on the women’s soccer team.

he’d made every effort to get your attention, calling your name and throwing footballs towards the soccer pitch, more or less annoying you. your teammates would squeal and giggle, and you groaned.

coach called practice, and as you were packing up your gear and getting ready to make the trek back to your locker rooms, you heard the distinctive voice from behind you.

“angel, how was practice?” you turned, seeing rafe, sweaty and red.

you probably looked the same at him. you’d been running on and off for two and a half hours today, you probably did not look your best. rafe would have disagreed.

“fine, thanks.” you wiped your face with a towel, taking your cleats off and finding your shoes.

“you know, when your face is all red like that, it makes me wonder what you look like when you’re getting f-” you hit rafe on the chest with the back of your hand.

“you’re appalling. does that line ever work on anyone?” you were completely disgusted by him right now, even if the thought did draw a little curiosity from you.

“sometimes. let me take you out on a date.” un phased, rafe cameron persists.

“why would i ever say yes after the comment you just made?” you laugh in his face, earning a shit eating grin from him.

“give me one chance. i don’t know what you think about me, but give me a chance to prove im not whatever it is.”

“no.”

“please, angel.” the way his voice upped an octave erupted thoughts, lot and lots of thoughts.

so, you’d finally give him a little bait to chew on for a while. “i'll think about it.”

with that, you left him standing by the benches. you rolled your eyes at the boy, but couldn’t help but smile.

three hours later you had a follow and dm from rafe cameron.

rafecam: have you thought about our date yet?

yourusername: no, not really

rafecam: come on angel

rafecam: one date is all i’m asking

yourusername: that’s all it’ll be since you’ll ghost me afterwards! it’s perfect!

rafecam: ohhh so that’s what you think

yourusername: the answer is no

rafecam: i’m not taking that for an answer

rafecam: it’s yes or yes

rafecam: i’ll be the perfect gentleman

rafecam: im the man of your dreams come onnnn

yourusername: you’re funny

rafecam: so does tuesday night sound good?

read

yourusername started following you!

deciding on something nice, but not too nice, you took your hair out of the rollers and sighed.

it’s your date with rafe tonight. you were feeling a lot of emotions.

you’d gone through rafe’s instagram the night he dmed you, had followed him back. there was even some 'get to know you' conversations somewhere in between.

pictures of his parents and sisters, his friends, pictures of them on a beach, all smiling. no pictures of him out at a party, or arms slung around girls. there was an image to maintain, though. the quarterback at unc, with forty thousand followers, of course he wasn’t going to post that.

you rolled your eyes and jumped up to show your roommate the black silk dress you were wearing for the dinner date at the fancy restaurant in town. anna was funny, bowing down in front of you like you were some god.

the doorbell to the apartment rang and your eyebrows furrowed. you thought, ‘no way he’d find a way to get up here, no way he’d find your apartment, no way he’d willingly come up here and ring my doorbell’.

but there he was, on the other side of the door, holding a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. your jaw almost dropped.

he was dressed nicely, a smile painted on his tanned features.

“how did you know where i live. and how do you know about the flowers?” you invited him in, giving him a undoubtedly suspicious look.

“don’t worry, angel. i have my ways,” he smirked, looking at your roommate. “hey anna.”

“oh, okay. got it. got it, thanks anna.” you shake your head, grinning as you put your head in your hands.

“we’ll put these in water then head out, yea?” rafe grabbed the scissors while you grabbed a vase to fill up with water, moving in perfect harmony.

the dinner went well, surprising you. he was a gentleman, like he had promised.

and as much as you hated yourself for it, you swooned, just like that.

his smile, and his jokes, and the lack of inappropriate ones. you thought maybe the bar was on the floor, right now you didn’t care. you could only thing about maybe, you could have been wrong about him.

he’d walked you back up to your apartment on the second floor, carrying his jacket and your heels over his shoulder as you walked together.

when you got to your door, it was unlocked, thank goodness, because you forgot your keys.

“these are yours. angel, i had a really good time. promise you’ll text me in the morning?” rafe asked as he held out your heels, a true, genuine look in his eye signaling he meant it.

you shrugged, love drunk, and pulled his arm so he fell inside with you. “we’ll see.”

he dropped the jacket and heels on one hump on the floor, grabbing around your waist and pulling you in.

the kiss was so desperate and rushed, but still gentle. one of his arms wrapped around your waist as you clung to his neck.

pulling apart, you grabbed his chin and lifted it upwards, placing light kisses on his neck, then sucking. his hands grabbed at your hips.

“you look so good. holy fuck, angel.” he returned the favor, kissing down your neck and shoulder, playing with the strap of your dress with his teeth.

you pulled him towards your room, and at first, he didn’t hesitate.

he faltered once you got to your door, pulling back from you.

“angel, i’ve wanted to fuck you since the moment i saw you, but i want to do this right.”

you were taken aback, not believing the words that were coming out of rafe cameron's mouth. you almost thought he was kidding, letting out a anxious chuckle, met with a confused stare.

"did you just say no to sex?" you questioned. he nodded, looking just as surprised by himself as you were.

he doesn't fucking like me, you thought. how could you be so stupid? of course, of course rafe cameron doesn't want you the same way you want him. do it right? what does that even mean?

and there it was, surprising you again, because since when did you want rafe? have feelings for rafe?

"okay, um well, goodnight, then." you tried, tucking your hair behind your ears and grabbing your heels from the ground.

"okay. goodnight, angel." he took a step forward to try and kiss you, but you crossed your arms over your chest and shook your head.

he faltered, heart shooting out of his chest. the one time he tries to treat a girl right, and he's fucked that up, too. he grabbed his jacket, stood up straight, gave you one last look and closed the door behind him.

rafe: good morning

rafe: do u maybe want to get coffee with me

rafe: or i could get it and bring it to u

read

rafe: helllllloooooo

read

rafe: angel what's goin on

rafe: text me back yn

read

it had been three days since you spoke to rafe. it'd been three weeks since you met him, officially. your emotions had been twisted, confusing. he’d been gone for an away football game. he stopped texting you after that.

you watched the game with your roommate anna, rafe throwing pick after pick, completely off his game. you sighed, hoping that the small flame inside trying to convince you you're the reason he keeps messing up is wrong.

the game ended, they won by one point. the team cheered on the field as number forty six walked off the field, helmet in hand and head hung low.

rafe: can you please talk to me

rafe: i would take you telling me you hate me over this

you: can you come over?

rafe: be there in ten

he was there in seven minutes, actually. looks of hesitation painting his features when you opened the door for him.

"you've been okay? you didn't text me back on wednesday."

"yea, we should talk about that." you nodded. his face slumped, he looked defeated.

"what? what is it, angel?" he took a step towards you.

"listen, i really only said yes to that date so you'd leave me alone," rafe felt a little bit liked he'd been punched. "but that entire date i felt so good, and i was honestly just fine with having one night with you and never speaking to you again. but then you said you didn't want to and whatever you meant by that, i'm not sure, but it, like, threw me off." you rambled, arms crossed over your chest in defense.

"i wasn't gonna have sex with you if it meant i never talked to you again." his blue eyes hidden under thick lashes, unable for you to get a good read on them.

"but rafe, thats like all you're known f-" your hands went up in defeat as you tried to finish your statement.

"was, it was. i wish you'd just talk to me instead, angel. but this-" he waves a finger between you two- "is different. i don't know if its because you give me shit every time i try to flirt with you or that you're just unlike anyone i've ever met, i don't fucking know. but id rather give this an actual try than pretend i could treat you like you didn't mean something more."

speechless, thats what you were. taking two steps forward and pulling him in. he tasted like mint gum, smelled like wood and vanilla. his lips parted, letting you familiarize yourself with his mouth.

he pulled back, "go on another date with me?" you laughed, then nodded, then pulled him back into you.

he pulled back again, "be my girlfriend?"

"you're pushing it, rafe." giving him a peck on the lips.

"well, just using my logic, here. if you're my girlfriend, then that means were giving it a try and we can fuck all we want." he shrugged, a hand finding its way under your t-shirt and onto your hip.

"you sound insane. ask me again later." you whispered into him, pulling him into your room, this time he didn't budge. rafe cameron, in your small, student housing bedroom, pulling your shirt off.

he kissed your neck, bit at the spots he'd sucked, picking you up and rolling onto the bed with you, earning a laugh from you.

you grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it up, rafe helping you out. your hands found their way to his upper arms, he closed his eyes and flexed under your touch, almost unconsciously.

"you look so pretty, angel. always do." he whispered, leaned down to kiss you again. he pulled your thin, loungewear bra to the side, let out a quiet groan, and kissed.

and he would have done anything to hear that small moan from you for the first time again. your hand reaches up to grab his hair as one nipple is in his mouth, the other being rubbed between his fingertips.

"angel, you want this as bad as i do?" he looked up at you, watched you nod, and smiled, kissing down to your naval.

lifting your lips, he slid the shorts off you, then his sweatpants next.

he lined himself up, pushing into you slowly, memorizing the sound of your gasps and moans. surely, this is what heaven felt like. sounded like. "holy fuck."

two strong arms landed on each side of your head as he slid in and out of you.

his words came out all incoherent, with a lot of 'please', 'angel', and 'pretty''s thrown in there.

this wasn't the kind of sex you'd have with rafe, you thought it would be more rough, not sweet and caring.

your eyes closed, his hand flying to your face, gripping your chin. "open your eyes, pretty girl. i wanna see you. wanna see whats mine." you let out a moan, clenching around him, too deep in pleasure to care that rafe knew you liked that.

"say it." rafe moaned, his pace fastening, a steady hand still on your face.

"im yours, rafe." he pulled you up as you gasped for the millionth time. now, riding him, your face was an inch above his, his features looked perfect under the sunlight.

"are you mine?" you got out, in between moans.

"since the first time i ever laid eyes on you. all yours, angel."

[betterfettered]

Hello hello we'll be back to our regularly scheduled obey me programming soon but I'm so down bad for blade from honkai star rail right now so I wrote a real quick little thingy about him.

Your yandere kidnaps you

(Gn!reader x AMAB!yandere, please let me know if reader is gendered)(noncon)(violence against reader)(kidnapping)(forced affection)(masc rage)(plus size reader 💖🫡)(18+ readers only please, mdni)(Please let me know if I am missing a TW)

Part 2

[This is fetish content and rape and abuse are disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

You thought your master’s bondman was not just cute, but also harmlessly so. “Blade”, he called himself, which you thought was so melodramatic that you could not help but smile whenever you happened to see him. On greeting him, you bent your knee and lowered your face as a maid ought to, but surreptitiously peeked at him from beneath your fringe and pressed your lips together to hide a laugh at the stilted way it made him hold himself, the apathy in his expression stirred up into a vague discomfort. For all the chagrin his name heralded, you could not help but see an awkward man who liked heaps of sugar and a touch of salt in his tea, one who would nudge your arm with his knuckles before demanding in monotone that you reaffix his barrette and shivering when your hands brushed his scalp. A hissy cat, a moody kid with overgrown bangs – you were fond of him, and nowhere near as scared as you should have been.

In fact, that lack of fear made it hard to understand what was happening when he first locked you away. His expression not budging out of its typical hollowness, he simply wrapped his hand around your arm and began to lead you; you followed, as a servant did, through halls and down many stairs. You didn’t question it when he led you to a part of the compound you had never been to until a door shut behind you, hard, and you turned in time to watch him slide a bar into place to lock it. When he faced you again, it was to glare down his nose at you with his typical emptiness, this time with more intensity than you were used to.

There was a brief pause, then he raised his hand to your cheek, letting his fingertips ghost just above your skin until you raised your own hand to push his away.

“I o-ought to be going,” you said, taking a step back. “I’ve plenty of work to do.”

That was not the right answer. This time he seized your wrist, hard enough to make you hiss a little, and dragged you further through the hall you had been sealed in. It was hard to focus with your heart pounding so hard, but you tried to scan your surroundings to see where you were and only recognized that you were somewhere dark, poorly lit by dim bulbs and no windows, with his feet leaving prints in the dust telling you that no one had been down here for quite some time in a way that makes your stomach drop, because you have a bad feeling about anything he could need privacy for–

Your fears were validated as he pulled you into a tiny room, some defunct servant’s quarters you’d imagine, containing nothing but a small bed covered in threadbare sheets and a rickety nightstand. Panic overwhelmed you, and you immediately began to struggle against him like mad, your chest seizing up so hard that it took you a while to realize that that loud noise you could hear was you screaming, apologizing, promising to do anything else that he wanted if he just let you leave.

He had been uncomfortable trying to approach you gently, unsure how to do it with his hands reforged specifically for killing and only killing. Subjugation, however, was his only nature, and once you began to act like prey, he allowed his instincts to take over. The nails of your flailing hand caught his face but seemed to have no effect on him whatsoever; he wrenched you forward by your arm hard enough that you stumbled and then kicked your feet out from beneath you while still holding your arm so that he could press you onto your back as you fell. It was relatively easy to pin you after he did that, and he did so by planting his knee downwards into the soft flab of your stomach, driving it in a little deeper when you tried to squirm away and loosing a knife from his belt to remove your clothing with.

He fucked you like a punishment, pushing into you with no foreplay and holding you down by both of your wrists as he thrusted into you hard enough to make your fat thighs clap against his skin. He watched you rather emotionlessly, unmoved by the tears pouring from your eyes and down your temples into your hairline or the whimpers that occasionally escaped your lips despite how hard you were pressing them together. Wracked with pain and with humiliation at your body suddenly being so exposed and shock at how things had turned bad so quickly, how you were suddenly being pinned under him like this used like some disposable toy, you looked just beyond the side of his head and traced cracks in the ceiling while you waited for him to finish. The room had been quiet but for the hoarse creaking of the bed, so you were surprised when you suddenly heard a grunt from him: he freed one of your wrists to bring the back of his hand to his blushing face, covering his mouth as he finished, his eyes growing distant as he stared down at you and his cock pulsating inside of you, making you feel sick.

You expected him to fix his clothes and leave you there, back to his same nonplussed demeanor, but instead he continued watching you the moment that he came back to his senses. As though that would make him vanish, you squeezed your eyes shut and only felt what happened next. He grabbed hold of the bottom of your face with his horribly cold hands, the bandage wrapped around it feeling clammy with his sweat, and then his lips pressed onto yours and his fringe tickled your forehead. You recoiled in shock and disgust, retreating backwards into the mattress and turning your face away from him, wiping your mouth before you could stop yourself. You flinched, expecting to feel the bruising of his hands roughly handling you again, but instead he lied down on you a little gently, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Wrap your arms around me,” he commanded.

It took you a second, but eventually you complied.

“Now say that you love me.”

“I--… I can’t,” you whispered back.

“You will. Say it.”

It took a long time for you to finally comply, and to his credit he waited in your embrace without moving as he awaited you saying it; eventually, your disgust was outweighed by your worry that he would never pull out of you and leave if you did not obey, so eventually you did finally whisper it into his hair, tears welling up in your voice as you pried the words from your throat.

After what felt like an eternity, he eventually left, but you were not allowed to because he locked the door from the outside when he went. In fact, you were kept in that tiny room so long that you lost track of time. You tried to measure your days by the showers you took in the adjoined bathroom, or the times you’d get hungry and eat some of the food you’d been left the day before, but you could not stop the time from blending together into slop no matter what you did.

It was easiest to measure time in when he suddenly reappeared to see you.

The first few days, upon just the sound of him unlocking the door keeping you shut in here, you would shake uncontrollably and fix your eyes to the ground. Once he entered, you tried to put as much distance between him and you that you could, though that was only a few steps or so. That ruined feeling, the unfamiliar slickness and soreness between your legs would rush back over you in memory and you’d feel overwhelmed to the point of dizziness, your trembling jaw barely able to form “please don’t” as he stared you down impassively. The second or third time you did this, he lost patience with it and dragged you kicking and screaming back over to the bed, but this time he only lied down beside you and rested his head on your chest, then demanding the same two things: to put your arms around him and say that you love him. You obeyed, sobbing, but sooner rather than later you got used to your new routine and became proficient, or comfortable even, in the new ritual of greeting him.

“Welcome back,” you’d tell him when he entered, going over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck and swaying him back and forth. Then you’d say you missed him or you were thinking of him or you were happy to see him. You started to wonder if that was actually true: he was your only human interaction, and after (what felt like) a few weeks you felt almost excited to see him, especially when he bought you things you requested, like wine and puzzles and lube and books. You felt like you could kiss him when he brought you a video game from his companion, though he seemed not to be sure what it was.

Well, more like you could kiss him and want to, because you often kissed him, actually. After greeting him you often led him, still emotionless as he always was, over to the bed where the two of you would lie down in the same position, his head on your chest and your arms around him. When you could stomach it, you’d roll over onto him and press your lips to his and moan into his mouth and grind on him, doing your very best to arouse him. Your hope was that if you preempted his lust with seduction of your own, maybe the sex would be easier, maybe you would have fewer nightmares that woke you up screaming. Strangely, your success with this strategy was variable: often times, he allowed your ministrations and then let you ride him until he came, his hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise while his other hand covered part of his face. Other times, he seemed to grow overwhelmed with your affections, flipped you back over and rested his head on you again, burying his reddened face into your chest so you could only see the top of his head. You’d be confused, not sure what to do, and he’d quietly command you to do the same thing he always did: wrap your arms around him and tell him you love him.

Still, no matter what you did, you could not escape that often he wanted to hurt you. You could predict it based on how much blood he was covered in when he visited you or how he seemed to bristle away from your touch, but most reliably he was in this violent mood when he woke up from nightmares of his own, seemingly gripped with unwavering rage that drove him to want to destroy, whether that be furniture or himself or you. If you were unlucky and he went for you first, you’d be awoken by him striking you, hitting your face or dragging you by your hair or roughly tearing your clothes from your body. You learned better than fighting back quickly, as that only made him angrier, and so you just tried to shield your face and go somewhere else in your mind until it was over. Sometimes he’d fuck you dry, hard enough that you bled a little after, other times he’d hit you all over your body until it hurt to move, other times still he’d twist your arms painfully behind your back, lean into your ear, and tell you exactly how he was going to kill you in gruesome detail that made you want to vomit. He only seemed satisfied when your tears had run out and you stopped moving, overwhelmed by pain and despair, and then the room would fall into silence but for the sound of his panting, slowing breath.

After these rages were the only times he’d hold you and tell you that he loved you in a way you knew was meant to be comforting but only sounded flat and disturbed.

Eventually, he let you go (later you learned that it had been around two and a half months after you’d been captured). It was unceremonious – he simply left one day and did not shut the door behind him. It took you nearly an hour to summon the courage to leave, as you could not help but fear that this was some sort of trap, that he’d be waiting just beyond the threshold to punish you if you left. In the end, though, it was not, and after some walking you found yourself back in a central corridor of the compound with business as usual happening around you. It was hard to comprehend how other people were talking, laughing, cleaning, working without bone deep, paranoid fear strangling them. You’d dreamed of your freedom for a long time, of the relief you’d feel to be out of his clutches, but there was no relief to be had.

You could not sleep with any semblance of normalcy after getting out, so you often lied awake at night and wondered why he had gotten rid of you. Had he grown tired of you, bored? Had he moved on to someone else? Had he seen that there was something within you that he had irreparably broken that made you not worth using any more? Part of you worried about this so endlessly because if he was angry that you failed him, you needed to figure that out so you could prepare for him to return in one of his rages.

But another part of you, one that you could not bear to acknowledge, had grown used to making him and his comfort the center of your universe, and now felt lost without him. You wished that he had just kept you until you died.

[martian-messages]

We are now into The Lost Sols!

If you haven't read them yet, you're in for a treat -- The Lost Sols is a short series of entries that were released for the tenth anniversary of The Martian's publication. After that, we'll be back to our (not-so) regularly scheduled programming!

As for the couple of asks sitting in my inbox -- don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you! I love the idea of a community and I'll definitely put some thought into it later. Concerning the other short stories -- great idea, I'm still looking into it, as I haven't had much bandwidth for that kind of research. As soon as I have time, I'll respond to your asks with more concrete answers!

I have one more mass posting run to make that will get through May, and that's the end of the 2023-25 season! I'll have more info at the end of May, but expect your subscriptions to be rolled over to Wordpress before we start up again in November. With this migration I'm hoping to start also posting MM entries to this Tumblr account -- so expect a few test runs before we get underway.

As always, thank you so, so much for following Martian Messages! This has been a really cool project to work on and I'm excited to continue this fall. I hope you're all enjoying Mark's final journey, and I'm excited to being him home together.

Alright, I've talked long enough. Have a wonderful day and I'll see you on Mars!

[fromsidereal]

We'll be back to our regularly scheduled program soon enough, I just have them on my mind a lot recently.

I'm going to give them both some more outfits so they're not always wearing the same thing. For now I think this is fine.

[npdkondraki]

sorry for liking kind of mainstream tv shows we'll get back to our regularly scheduled programming of niche internet horror insanity soon enough

[ourlittleuluru]

Another IRL post and we'll be back to our regularly scheduled program of game focused ramblings/landscape mode-ing/reblogs etc! (ngl can tmr come any sooner? QwQ itchy fingers wants to gacha for Lumiere)

~+~+~+~ IRL time ~+~+~+~

Thankfully! Today! Thank you booth mate for needing to leave early so I don't go walking around to spend my money any more than I need to ToT

But I did do one last final damage to my wallet! and it's this cuteeeeee sticker sheet >w<

With this, it's safe to say... I can officially make the Xavier Observation Journal thing... Time to make this a reality! Especially since I have so many stickers and some photocards to start off with~!

Now... I just need to find time outside of work and merch making and all the art WIPs to do 🤣

Side thing, Imma be opening up the online store like after another convention in June which I would be joining the artist alley yet again ><;;;

More side rambles, I'm... not too sure of the reason but there wasn't much people going around looking for LnDS merch??? Only 1 Rafayel got adopted ToT

But I did manage to meet another Xavier Constellation and she was just diagonally to my left at the booth! 🥺 It's always nice to meet another fellow Constellation ❤ (and I'm trying to pull her in here 🤣)

Okay, that's enough irl ramblings from me tonight! Xavier is literally asking me to go and sleep soon as I left the game idling on the home screen~

[thatonemarvelchick]

Apricity - Twenty-Five

Ok, for plot purposes I did this chapter in Apricity's POV again, but the next one will be Peter and we'll resume our regularly scheduled programming.

Apricity kept her pace brisk, her eyes alert. “Bucky, what’s my status?” She asked quietly into the com that they had hidden deep in her ear. It was micro, so not even HYDRA would be able to sense it if they patted her down. She was told it was the same thing Peter had used when they’d come to get her. 

She cringed at the thought of the boy. She couldn’t think about Peter right now, about the way MJ had enveloped him in a hug that he’d immediately returned. About the way the two had looked at each other as if they were lovers long lost. 

But they were, weren’t they? 

“You’re clear right now, as far as we know there’ve been no detections.” Bucky’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts, making her focus once again on her mission. Infiltrate HYDRA, and take them down. “The man you’re looking for is named Jared Pritchet. There’s a photo of him coming your way. You’re going to go up to him, and you’re going to say Hail HYDRA. He’ll take you to the base. Or, he’ll call someone who will.”

Apricity nodded even though Bucky couldn’t see her. Or, maybe he could. She had no idea the kind of tech Sam had gotten them access to. 

“Ok. Thanks.” She sighed, looking around her. She’d pulled out her phone to look at the photo Bucky sent her, examining the face of the man. When she looked back up, his was the only face she was looking for. 

It didn’t take her long to find it in the mostly empty plaza. He was sitting at a table, typing something rapidly on a computer. He wasn’t paying attention to anyone or anything around him, completely zoned in on his laptop. This was good for Apricity, as it enabled her to walk directly up and sit down across from him before he noticed. 

He frowned, watching her closely for a moment. “Can I help you? I don’t have any change, I’m sorry.” 

Apricity chuckled softly, leaning in and pushing his computer closed, much to his dismay. “Hail HYDRA.” 

The man seemed to freeze at that, looking at her with widened eyes. A flicker of recognition ran throughout them, and he was suddenly swallowing thickly. 

“Come with me.” His American accent was gone, replaced with a thick German one. He stood, packing up his things and walking away without waiting for her to follow. 

“Good kid. Now just be careful.” She heard Bucky’s voice over the coms again, and a jolt went through her when he called her kid. She knew he would call anyone younger than him a kid, but it was different when she was actually his kid. 

“Apricity?” She heard Peter’s voice over the com next, something that also sent a jolt through her. She’d thought he was still with that girl, MJ. She hadn’t expected him to be there with Bucky and Sam, to still care about the mission. Or her. “I know you can’t respond, I just- Please tell us if you need any of us. I’ll be there. Don’t die, ok?” Apricity swallowed, bowing her head. She hoped that they could see her and that they would take this as a sign of understanding. She had no intention of dying today. 

Apricity followed Pritchet to a cab, getting in after only a moment of hesitation. He leaned forward, shutting the divider between them and the taximan, before turning to her. 

“You’re her? The Soldier’s daughter?” He asked, looking at her cautiously. 

Apricity jut her chin out, putting on an act already. “He took part in my creation, and then he abandoned the cause. He is no father of mine.” Her voice surprised even her. But Pritchet seemed to buy it, because soon enough he was smiling. 

“Good. We’ve been quite worried about you, Winter Sun.” A chill went up Apricity’s spine at the name, but she showed no outward reaction to it. 

Soon enough, they were walking into an unassuming government-looking building, plain on the outside. Apricity looked around, taking in every detail she could. Pritchet was let in without a code or scanning of any kind, but the guard at the door put a hand on her chest to stop her from coming after him. 

Apricity acted on instinct, grabbing his wrist and twisting until his arm was pinned behind his back and he was shoved into the wall. It was a move her father had taught her earlier that day, and she could hear his laughter coming through the coms. 

“Woah woah woah-” Pritchet held up his hands to the other guards who were rushing towards her with electrified batons at the ready. Her eyes flickered wildly between them all, her breathing heavy. For someone who was only acting power-hungry and wild, she was putting on a good show. “Let’s be civil. She’s with me.” Pritchet put a gentle hand on her shoulder, causing her to let the guard go slowly. “Let’s go inside and get you settled, yeah?”

Apricity’s jaw clenched. “I want to talk to him. The scientist who tested on me. I want to know what he put in me. I want more.” Her demands came quickly and brutally. Pritchet watched her for a moment, and for a terrifying second, she thought she’d oversold it, that they would catch on and realize that she was lying. 

“Right this way, soldier.” Pritchet grinned and her heart lifted. She let out the smallest sigh of relief, perceptible to only herself. She was led into the building and then into an elevator, Pritchet pushing an unmarked button. “This will take us to the labs. The man you’re looking for is Dr. Convoy.”

She nodded, swallowing thickly. She hoped Bucky had caught that and was doing a run on the name now.

“What did he put inside of me?” She asked, clenching and unclenching her fists over and over again. 

Pritchet glanced over at her and shook his head as the elevator doors opened and let them out into a purely white hallway, not a window in sight. “I don’t know, I’m not even sure he knows.”

She frowned at this, following him down the hallway. He opened a door that revealed rows upon rows of lab tables. Some of them had people strapped to them. Apricity resisted the urge to be sick, watching tubes of black and blue sludge being pumped into these people's arms. They were still experimenting on people. 

“Dr. Convoy.” Pritchet led them to a man that was all too familiar to Apricity. She tensed upon seeing his round, balding head. He still had that stupid clipboard in his hand. Much to her approval, he had a black eye and what looked to be a broken nose now. She would have to thank Peter for that later. 

Convoy turned, eyes going wide when they landed on Apricity. “You’ve got her.” He breathed, rushing over to them. “Why is she not in cuffs?”

“Actually,” Pritchet grinned at her as if they shared an inside joke. She didn’t return the look. “She came to me.” 

Convoy shook his head slowly. “My goodness.” He breathed, reaching up to touch her face. She jerked her head away. “A miracle.”

“I came to get more. I want more of whatever it was you injected into me.” She said, looking at him with burning blue eyes. She couldn’t see herself, but she knew that to these people, she looked utterly insane. 

Convoy laughed, putting a hand over his stomach and leaning back as if she’d just told the most hilarious joke she could’ve made. “Of course you did, my dear! You see, when you have that first taste of power, it’s all you want.”

Apricity stepped forward, grabbing him by his tie and yanking him towards her. “What was it?” she demanded lowly. His eyes went wide but the smile never left his face. She was starting to think he was more insane than she was pretending to be. 

“Come with me, my dear. I’ll show you.” He said, having no qualms with the fact that she was holding him in a manner that made it clear that she could snap him like a twig if she chose to do so. 

She was led further into the labs, past tables with people doubled over and throwing up into buckets. The buckets were all full of black sludge and something that looked eerily close to blood. She had to keep her eyes trained on the back of Convoy’s shiny head to avoid her stomach churning and making her join those people. 

“You see, we’ve been trying desperately to replicate what we had with you. However, we’ve never been able to reproduce the serum, so no meer human’s body has been able to handle it. But now that we have you, we can see just what in your blood has made you immune. We can create an entire army of super soldiers that the world has never seen. An entire army of you.” He sounded elated. Apricity felt sick. 

He opened the door to a room with a large clear tube taking up the entire center of it. Inside the tube was that same black sludge she’d seen before, but it was suspended in air, floating around and moving as if it wasn’t affected by gravity. As if it had a mind of its own. 

“What is that?” Apricity breathed, shaking her head. She stared up at the tube in awe, her jaw falling slack. 

“We don’t know!” Convoy sounded delighted. “It’s Asgardian. After their home was destroyed, we imagine it made its way here, looking for shelter. It seems to have a mind of its own, but its only thought is survival.” He grinned over at her. 

She swallowed, watching the way it twisted and moved. She walked over to the glass, drawn to it. The substance seemed to radiate energy and power. Apricity walked directly up to the tube, putting her hand on the glass. 

The sludge stopped flicking as if it sensed her presence. It flung itself into the glass she was touching, over and over, until it began to crack. Apricity jumped back, eyes wide. It wanted out, and it wanted her. 

She could hear shouts coming from out in the labs behind them. Convoy turned. There was a low rumbling sound, the sounds of things being knocked over and tossed aside, people screaming in pain and fear. Apricity stumbled towards the back wall, watching the doors burst open. 

It all happened at once. The goop in the tube burst through the glass. Whatever of the substance had been in the labs burst through the doors, knocking them completely off their hinges. The energy was enough to shove Convoy and everyone else back into the walls. All of it, compiled now, was heading straight for her. 

She felt as the substance entered her, filling her body, conforming to her. She felt like everything was expanding, she felt like she was radiating. A low thrumming sound was coming throughout the room, deafening. The last thing she heard was Convoy shouting, before she herself seemed to explode with the energy, letting it radiate out of her, and incinerate everything it touched.

Next Chapter

[roguedreadwolf]

Fair warning, I am going to be reblogging some GoT stuff. I am really deep in my Westeros feels right now, but not enough to make a side blog with 4 episodes left, lol. I'll tag everything "got spoilers" and "not da" if you prefer not to see them. We'll be back to our regularly scheduled programming (pro-Egg-gramming? har har) soon. 😁❤