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eyesxxyou · 1 year

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Backstage Show Pt.3

★🎸 {} .. hobie brown x groupie!reader

rating. m

word count. 3.5k

synopsis. hobie invites you to hang with him and his band for your birthday. They have the birthday present planned for you

hobie lets his band have their way with you

🍒・．❕warnings. the sexual tension is palpable, lots of group teasing, group is just different versions of Hobie's concept art, voyeurism (sex in front of hobie), clothed sex, ass eating (f receiving), fingering, praise, three on one, kinda foursome, titty play, making out with multiple people, hobie has a bit of a god/ superiority complex, y/n is a group who'd do anything for her idol, bit of a power dynamic fr

backstage show pt.1 | backstage show pt.2

Hobie had you on a leash. Metaphorically of course but you'd be more than happy to make it physical if he so desired. From that first night, you were hooked, waiting on every beck and call, obsessed was too light of a word to describe it. Fanatic maybe, in dire need of therapy is another option because you'd let him do whatever he wanted to you and he knew it.

Hobie took advantage of it in minor ways, asking you if you might send him pictures knowing that you would without so much as a second thought. He could ruin your life with pictures like that in his possession, your fingers in your wet pussy just like he instructed, so down bad that your own self preservation for any future endeavors was thrown out the window. But he had proved that he at least cared somewhat for you reputation and not getting you fired from your job by hiding your face from the tabloids when the two of you were caught fucking in an alley.

You were madly in love. Any fan would be if they were regularly fucking the person they idolized, the parasocial feelings you had suddenly becoming actualized and recognized by the one on the receiving end of it.

Never once did you try to place a label on things and Hobie appreciated it, you could tell. So often people will want to rush into trying him down to something he never really agreed to. You never tried to call yourself his girlfriend or claim him as your boyfriend because you were just happy to have him in any way he would allow. Maybe that’s why he was so comfortable letting you stick around, because you knew your place and didn’t infringe on those boundaries.

You were thinking about the long game, really. Not just the momentary gratification.

Hobie texted you after nearly a week of radio silence. For a moment, you feared he might be done with you even after the two of you stayed up texting into the early mornings about music and life, and all sorts of things. You ran through your messages time and time again trying to decipher if he had given any signs that he was upset with you. None were apparent. You told yourself that he was just busy to soothe your nerves and when you received his text, he didn’t address his absence. However, he did address something else of import.

Happy birthday, luv. You wanna come over?

Something you had offhandedly mentioned, something as important as you birthday, he took the time to remember. Even when you, who was too busy worrying about him to even remember, didn't.

It was hardly even a question you had to consider. You had tossed on a nice outfit as quickly as possible, did your hair and makeup. You grabbed your bag and left the house for the subway while asking him for the address. So quickly you had forgotten about him ignoring your text because you knew that in some way he was thinking about you and you were just lucky to even be acknowledged by him.

That’s how you got here, at this little building that was rundown but cozy, just how you liked it. The entrance was round the side and the door was left unlocked for you. You pulled open the rusting metal door gate before walking inside. You could hear the music from upstairs as well as the laughter emanating from the men and followed it up to their studio.

“There she is." Hobie's lead guitarist, Mace motioned to you as you entered the room. “Told ya she’s the punctual type.” He nudged Hobie who sat beside him with a joint. Their studio was a dim place, layered in a perpetual haze of smoke only illuminated by a red LED light in the corner. There were posters and decorations all over the wall, some spray painted art on the East wall. The boys were lounging around, listening to music while either drinking or smoking.

They were all beautiful and you’d have your pick of any of them, or rather, all of them if you could. Mace, the lead guitarist with his long locs he usually kept in a half up, half own style decorated in gold cuffs. He was cool, occasionally playful, and spent most of his time while you were around teasing. Cass, the rhythm guitar and backup singer, kept his locs in a ponytail with the font out and down his face. He was the quieter type, didn’t talk much, but he was kind when he did talk.Then there was Eli, the drummer, loud, eccentric with hair to match in streaks of white and red. He had the prettiest eyes, one blue and one brown. He was the one who brazenly flirted with you in front of Hobie.

But there was a way they all looked at you. It’s not surprising seeing as your very first interaction with them was getting fucked in front of them while they jerk off to it. Sexual tension was implied with an interaction like that.

Hobie smiled at you as you entered. “There’s ma girl. Com’ere, luv.” He motioned you to him with two fingers and you came. You slid into place beside him and he kissed you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip and his fingers tracing the curve of your delicate jaw. He kissed you like he knew you were in love with him, always kissing with just enough passion to keep you on the hook but never enough to make you believe that you’re entitled to claim him in any sort of way. "Happy birthday, baby."

“Aw, I don’ get to have a kiss, doll?” Eli came over, placing his hands on the back of the couch on their side of your head as he leaned in close to you. You hesitated, your eyes widening as you look at Hobie for what to do. He doesn’t give you any reassurance nor does he show any sign that he’s upset about the question. He just takes a drag from his joint while the other two see what you’ll do.

On the other side of the room, Cass sat strumming to the melody of the song playing over the hidden speakers on his guitar. “Don’ look so fuckin’ terrified. He’s jus’ pullin’ ya leg, dove.” He scratched behind his gauged ears, his upper lip pierced with fanged angel bites pulling into a lopsided grin. "Happy birthday by the way."

Eli sighed and fell onto the couch beside you, tossing his arm over your shoulder. You were wedged between him and Hobie, both of them with an arm around you as Hobie passed his joint to Eli. Oh the things you thought about. All the ways they could manhandle you into any position they so desired. They could pass you around like that joint they have and you’d have absolutely no qualms with it.

“Nice shirt. You make it ya’self?” Mace leaned over Hobie’s lap to get a good look at your crop top with the band’s signature and “The Mary Janes” written in bleached letters. You nodded. “Took me forever to figure out what kind of design I wanted to do but yeah.” You find that he's looking hard. Your shirt is tight, leaves nothing to the imagination though it's not like they haven't seen you in various positions. He's checking you out hard. They all are in their own way and it's nothing new but it flusters you every time.

"Stop starin' at 'er tits, pervert." Hobie jabs him in the chest with his elbow and earns himself a tug at one of his wicks in return. They squabble like siblings, bickering between themselves while Hobie moved his hand to your thigh subconsciously. You're wearing a low-waisted black maxi skirt with platform boots. A simple outfit your haphazardly tossed together in the moment to get out of the house as quickly as possible.

Eli places the joint in front of you as it sits between his long, slender fingers. "You eva smoked before, doll?" He asked in a hushed whisper beside your ear. You look up at him. “Once when I was younger. I didn’t like it all that much… but I’d be willing to try it again.” He huffs out a laugh at this and hands you the joint to take a drag of it. The smoke immediately makes you cough and your face twist up, nose scrunching in slight disdain. Cass laughs at you lightheartedly from across the room. “Maybe smokin’s jus’ not for ‘er.”

You hand it back to Eli who laughs as well, placing the joint back between his lips. “Mmh,” He hummed softly, “tha’ strawberry?” He could taste your lipgloss on the tip, savored it a little before taking a drag. “Like ma girl’s with a lil’ flavor.”

“I’m not your girl though, am I?” You say this still while leaning your head on his shoulder and looking up at him with the smallest hint of a smile. Sometimes you took it upon yourself to flirt with the others. It’s not like you an Hobie are an official thing, you two are free to flirt with whoever you so please (though you’re sure if he were to give the attention he gave to you to someone else, you’d lose your shit).

“Sure ‘Obes wouldn’t mind sharin’, would ya ‘obie?”

Hobie stopped his wrestling with Mace to look at his sporadic drummer then at you. “Don’ usually like sharin’ ma tings… but I also don’t believe in consistency.” He glances at you, something mischievous brimming on his lips as he leans in and kisses you, his hand comes to cradle your neck, his thumb rubbing over your throat. “She’ll always know who she belongs to at the end of the day, won’t you?” You look him in the eyes and nod.

"Das ma good girl." Hobie hummed softly and pecked you one more time. "My bes' girl. I gotta surprise fo ma favorite." Your chest swelled at his praise and the thought that he thought enough about you enough to gift you a surprise.

Hobie got up from the couch, leaving a dip in the cushion from not moving for so long. "Since it's your birthday and you must be tired just fuckin' with me all the time–" He made his way over to a recording panel, plopping himself down in a spinning chair. He was joking knowing you could never get tired of him. "So, the boys offered themselves up. Let them make you feel good, birthday girl, if you'd like. No fucking or blowjobs in return."

You never thought you'd be in a position like this, surrounded by the most beautiful men in the world and they were offering themselves up to you for your pleasure. For your birthday.

"I-I don't know…are you okay with it?" You wanted to, you wanted their hands all over you, wanted their mouths in any way you could have them but you had a creeping suspicion that this was all some elaborate test to see if you really were loyal to him. Hobie didn't like sharing his things. He already made it every clear.

"Baby, that's up to you. I only agreed as long as I was there to watch." Hobie looked at you for a moment, the way you sit squeezed between the large, warm bodies of Mace and Eli. Cass had put down his guitar and stood up. “You said ya good wit’ us sharin’ ya girl here?” He made his way slowly over to the table and around it.

"No but how could I deny my girl on her birthday?"

It was like their minds ran in parallel with each other because they all had that same look on their faces. Mace and Eli turned in to you and you felt even more trapped between the two of them and Cass standing right in front of you, looking down at you with a smirk ghosting over his lips.

It was intimidating to be trapped between three men so beautiful you felt you might pass out and they all looked about ready to devour you. What a dream it would be to be splayed open, let them pass you round, take their turns with you until you’re all dumb and fucked out. Then you want Hobie to hold you, tell you you did an amazing job while he cleans you up.

It was Mace who kissed you first. Softly at first to ease you into it. You panicked a little admittedly when he pulled back, immediately looked to Hobie for some kind of approval of the situation but he completely left it up to you to decide that for yourself. Fuck you how and who you’d like, at the end of the day the two of you had no commitment to each other. He took another drag and crossed his legs, waiting. Plus, he wanted you to accept his gift to you.

You turned back to Mace, everyone waiting to see what you might choose, all willing to back off if you gave any indication you didn’t want any of this. It takes you a second that in the moment, you have all the power and if feels fucking amazing. You kiss Mace again and that give the signal for all of them to attack.

So many hands are on you at once, tugging at your clothes, grasping at your skin, removing as much as they could to expand their access to you. It’s almost overwhelming how quickly they leave you exposed and whimpering. Cass is on his knees, his large hands grasping your thighs while Mace and Eli trade places. Eli's much rougher when he kisses, his tongue demanding absolute submission from yours, his teeth sinking into the supple flesh of your lips. Mace busied himself with those pretty breasts of yours, his long fingers playing with the pebbled peak of your nipple while his lips latch onto the nipple of your other.

"Be gentle. Don't like ma tings broken, mates." Hobie makes eye contact with you and smirks. "Go on an' slut 'er out. She's a stupid cockwhore anyway. You-" he finally speaks to you like you aren't just an accessory in the room. "don' you dare take ya eyes off me, got it?"

Your only confirmation was obedience. Your eyes remained on Hobie even as Cass's lips kissed the lips of your pussy and his tongue dipped to test the waters. Even as Mace tortured your sensitive buds with his own tongue and fingers, pinching and nipping and teasing to no end. Eli’s lips teased at your neck, feasting on the way your breathing hitched at every overstimulating touch.

Hobie was relaxed, not threatened in the least by the way you could hardly handle the sensation of all of them on you. Cass’s head was slotted between your thighs. He took his time to explore, spit on your pretty little pussy like he intended to claim it. Eli helped him out, his fingers playing in Cass’s mess, teasing at your clit while his mate's tongue went back and forth between your little cunt and the taut ring of muscle of your ass. Cass kept your legs pried open despite how your muscles fought to cover your modesty and hide from the overbearing nature of their stimulation. Together, they had your pussy trembling.

Mace fondled your breasts in his hands obsessively. You wonder how many times in all of this he's thought about tit-fucking you. Maybe from the moment Hobie first brought you around. He left red marks against the brown of your skin, all destined to blossom into roses of blue and purple.

"H-Hobie." You moaned his name like he was the one with his tongue in your cunt and his fingers playing your swollen clit like a fiddle. It seemed he was enjoying the show from where he was sitting. "What is it, ma pretty girl? You enjoyin' yaself?"

Enjoying yourself was an understatement. They were making your pussy sing, playing you like a fiddle. Mace was teasing your nipples raw and you were sure you'd simply combust at any moment. You could only whine in response, looking at Hobie as he smiled and continued to talk you through your pleasure. "They've all been wannin' to fuck you for a while now, you know tha'? All they talk 'bout afta ya leave."

You could feel Cass chuckle against your clit while his tongue swirls between Eli's soaked fingers. "Have 3 holes 'n a nice pair of tits fo a reason." He spits on your clit again, making a mess of his bandmate's fingers and your pussy before dribbling down the underside of your pretty little asshole.

"Oh the ways we've thought 'bout usin' you, lovely." Mace added on with a rumbling chuckle of his own as he kissed down your diaphragm. "How we talked 'bout takin' turns fuckin' this magical cunt Hobie was goin' crazy ova."

"I talk high praise ova ma girl." Hobie murmured from the side as he took another drag. "Bes' pussy this side of the Atlantic."

"Tas'e like heaven." Cass murmured against your saliva-coated pussy while Eli continued to pinch and flick at your clit. Your pussy is pulsating, you moans growing in volume and cadence. Mace's lips are on yours again, his tongue exploring yours and savoring your taste, his long, skilled fingers teasing their buds of your nipples.

There was a thin line that separated Heaven from Hell, blissful pleasure from soul-crushing pain and you walked that line like a tightrope, wobbling a little into each from time to time but never fully surrendering to one or the other. All those hands, all those tongues, Hobie’s piercing gaze as he watched them have their way with your body. Cass’ tongue soothed the ache of Eli’s aggressive fingers, Eli’s lips kissed the bites Mace left on your body, Mace cooed at how well you were for them all while Cass went places only Hobie has ever known.

And Hobie— he was there to watch you fall apart completely and utterly. He took a drag from this joint before leaning forward to tap off the ashes as he stood. Your eyes were trained on him, muscles quivering from the onslaught of pleasure seizing them but you’d such a good girl that you never take your gaze from his pretty, slander frame.

He stood before you, partially over Cass who ate your pussy like a starved dog, lips wet with your slick ad saliva. Mace moves his hot mouth from yours and focuses more on your abused tits, littered in hickeys and bruises, nipples erect and slightly swollen from stimulation. Eli slipped his fingers down your smutty pussy and teased at the entrance of your cunt accompanied by Cass’ tongue. He used the heel of his palm to rub your clit as he sled his two long digits into your dripping pussy causing you to gasp sharply.

Hobie reached out, taking the opportunity to slide his thumb onto the wet pad of your tongue. “Close.” And you closed your lips around his thumb, suckling softly as you moaned in pleasure. You were so close to that high you sought everytime you were with Hobie. You looked up at his with those large eyes of yours, your body spasming as your tongue rolled against his thumb.

“You gonna cum, doll?” Hobie murmured at you, taking another drag as he pussed his thumb further into your mouth and down your throat until you gagged, your throat constricting. You nodded vigorously, your hips bucking uncontrollably against Cass’ face and Eli’s hand. Your hands were in Mace’s hair as he reached down and replaced Eli’s palm with his fingers now testing your clit. Your pussy jolted, throbbed with the beginnings of a climax as you moaned against his tongue. You drooled, Cass hands push your legs apart as you attempt to close them around the many fingers and single tongue against your cunt.

“Go ahead. I know they’re dying for it. They want my pretty, birthday girl to feel her best.”

Tears pricked the ducts of your eyes as your orgasm crashed down on you. Your cries were muffled by Hobie’s thumb as he weighed the pad of it down against your tongue. Your muscles spasmed, back arching off the couch as you shook. You kept looking at Hobie under the red LEDs and through the smoke from his mouth like a good girl, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips on yours.

When he pulled his thumb from your lips, a string of saliva connecting you, he ran the pad of his thumb across your southern lip and cooed at you. “My girl.” You feel back against the couch, fucked out and sleepy while they one by one retracted themselves from you, starting with Cass, then Eli, then Mace.

“You’ve ou’done yaselves, boys.” Hobie came and sat beside you, pulling you into his lap while you trembled against him. His fingers ran circles along your inner thing, growing nearer to your swollen, used heat until his fingers her dragging through the cum and saliva Cass left behind. “Ain’t this the bes’ birthday eva?” Hobie whispered into your ear and with your arms wrapped around his neck, you nod against his cheek with your lips pressed into his cheek.

#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #atsv #spiderman #hobie brown fic #hobie brown smut #spider punk #backstage show #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown my love #hobie x y/n #hobie x reader

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hargr0vefield · 8 months

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my boyfriend eddie munson headcanons ☼

a terrible cook. but for some odd reason, a very solid pancake and waffle maker

has a phobia of rusted rings, therefore all his jewelry is stainless steel

has a backstory and name for each of his leather coats. there’s not many, he’s very picky about which belong in his collection

uses very established products on his hair. he begged you not to mention it again after you found them in his shower

makes it a habit to light incense

is an avid back to the future fan

michael j fox IS his man crush

cereal lover, particularly picks out the boxes with the designs and games for kids on them

“baby, you can’t have any more cereal,” “y/n, it’s the healthiest thing i eat”

very touchy, in the most heartfelt and loving way

longs to make up for the lack of it he never received throughout his life

strange fascination with race cars

you bought him nascar tickets for christmas

he took a polaroid picture of the ticket and stuck it to his wall

owns multiple picks and combs

has a lighter collection

his favorite lighter he purchased in panama

likes interlocking fingers when holding hands

talks you through it

consent is the most important thing to him

likes his hair being pulled, only by you

plans extra, extra hard on d&d campaigns - any free time goes to you or hellfire

once was involved in a fist fight with gareth because he assumed eddie put no work into the campaign

“have you even worked at this at all? we’re all here busting our asses day and ni-“ *boom*

sits like an inch away from the tv

“eddie, that’ll ruin your eyes” “your face will ruin my eyes”

likes to open doors for people, especially you

meets with a tutor every wednesday, makes sure to let you know when he’s heading there and when he’s heading home

he really, really thinks ‘86 is his year

has an affinity for you in tight clothing

really is a slut, but the gentle kind

has an exceptionally tight grip

loves colder weather- leather jacket season

let’s you borrow anything from his closet

he’ll get really excited if you ask to wear his hellfire shirt

“i’m sorry if it smells like booze, dustin knocked my can all over me”

loves whispering to you

usually it’s sweet nothings

most of the time it’s as you drift asleep in his bed, metal posters staring down at you from above

usually smells like eucalyptus and cigarettes- mixed with essential hair oils

actually has a really, really sharp memory

“i don’t even remember what i said to her to make her this mad at me-“ “you said she was lazy and that it was seeping into her day to day life and through to your guys’ friendship.” “eddie-“

picks you over anyone, sometimes even over hellfire

“get your ass to gareth’s. incase you forgot, we have rehearsal today” “i’m with y/n, you pack of dumbasses can wait”

keeps a box of polaroids of you under his bed

most are appropriate, some aren’t

dustin almost accidentally opened the box once

eddie slapped him hard across the hand, leaving a red mark

he instantly apologized profusely

“god, henderson i’m so sorry bout that- just don’t- just don’t open that box, alright?”

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things headcanons #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n

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miserable-sarah · 2 years

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Sammy

Pairings: Sam X Reader

Warnings: None

Requested

"Oh Sam would be so mad if you called him that" Dean chuckles at you shaking his head

"I don't think he would, he actually likes me" You tease

Dean looks at you "Hey! He likes me too, I'm his brother" He says holding his chest like you hurt him.

"yeah but he really likes me" You give him a wink

"Oh my" Dean shakes his head "Will you two just start dating already" You and Sam have a back and forth game going on, you flirt with each other, you guys compliment each other all the time, You both try to save each others ass' on hunts, it's clear you both like each other but you don't want to ruin anything so you don't say anything. You're not sure why Sam won't say anything but if you had to guess it's probably because every time he got with someone they died, or were just bad. You don't rust it and to be honest you like the way things are at the moment.

"Y/n! you're doing the weird stare at nothing thing again" Dean says snapping you out of your thoughts

"Oh sorry" You say "Shouldn't Sammy be back?" You ask

"That's it, I dare you to call him that. To his face" Dean folds his arms across his chest with a smirk on his lips.

"Deal" You shrug wearing a confident smile. "I bet he won't mind at all" You both hear the door creak, you and Dean look at each other then look at Sam who is walking down the stairs with food.

"Hey guys" Sam huffs "Who's hungry?" Dean shoots up and grabs his food sitting at the table. Dean looks happy. You and Sam smile at Dean laughing a little.

"Thanks for going" You smile at him

"Of course, anything for you" He winks. Sam hands you whatever he got you and pulled out your chair so you could sit. You lock eyes with Dean for a second. You smirk at him.

"Thank you Sammy." you say to him loudly. Dean stops chewing, his eyes going big. He was nervous about Sam's reaction. Sam sits down next to you smiling, and blushing.

"You're welcome" He says quietly.

"Samm-" Dean gets cut off

"Dean, don't" Sam shakes his head at him. You giggle watching Dean's reaction, the poor man is so confused.

"But she-"

"Because I like her" Sam smiles.

"Because I like her" Dean mocks him quietly. You can't help but laugh at Dean.

#sam winchester #Sam x reader #Sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #Sam winchester fluff #dean winchester #dean w #dean winchester gif #sam and dean #dean x reader #supernautral #supernatural fluff #sam winchester gif

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0asisbliss · 3 months

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Darling why run?

Pt.2

Parings: Yandere!Chrollo x Cubby fem!Reader

TW: Kidnap, mentions of torture, other dark shit.

A/N: Sorry for any spelling errors. Pt.3 since you guys asked for this first.

You sat there in silence trying to concentrate on the door. Waiting for it to open. You needed to get out. The rusted old chains on your leg felt itchy, and you could no longer feel the weight of them because of how tight they were. The beating image of your friend still stuck in your head. It was horrifying. Your face still hasn’t changed. That same nonchalant expression that you had when she was asking you to put her out of her misery.

You play her screams over and over again in your head. Your head. It’s beginning to hurt. Though you try to ignore the pain. The door still hasn’t opened. You estimate it’s been two days since Chrollo left you to rot in the of the home you once loved so much. Chrollo had it all why would he throw it away like that? To ruin your life? Traumatize you? Did he no longer love you? Maybe, just maybe this all a little sick game to Chrollo. He probably found joy in your suffering.

You stopped looking at the door and stared at your legs. Could you still even walk? You were in pain, and you were really hungry.

You heard a creaking sound come from the door. It must have opened. Chrollo came into room with a plate of food and a glass of water.

The fucking nerve.

“Get. The. Hell. Out.” You muttered quietly, but harsh enough for him to hear. You were tired of being quiet you hated being down here, you hated being chained, and you even hated him.

“Darling, maybe you should eat hm?”

Chrollo sat the plate beside your hand. Even in your hungry state you refused the food from him to demonstrate your hatred and sorrow. You looked at it, and threw it on the ground. The glass plate shattering, and food plastering the floor.

Tears started to well at your eyes as you began to cry. Your sobs turned into screams. Chrollo sat beside you and rubbed circles on your lower back.

“There, there my darling it’ll be okay.”

You started to punch at his chest and you even slapped him. This was just your first week in this confinement so Chrollo didn’t get too mad at your behavior.

“Fuck you. I hate you, you crazy motherfuc-.”

Chrollo cut you off by slamming into your lips you didn’t kiss him back instead you bit into his bottom lip hard.

Chrollo didn’t hesitate to push you off of him when he pulled away blood dripped down from his lip as he looked at you in shock. Why the hell would you bite him? You didn’t do this before.

Chrollo backed away, and got off the bed.

“Alright since you failed to eat dinner how about I come back at a later time. Maybe when you have finally got yourself together.

You finally had enough two fucking whole days of bullshit, and pure torture, and he gives you this smart mouth bullshit?

“Y’know what Chrollo fuck you. I’ve been stuck in this filthy fucking basement for two fucking days. And you have the nerve to come and act like you’ve done nothing to me? Rot in hell.”

Chrollo stared at you with no emotion in his expression. Almost like he was starting you down, sizing you up. Why did he find delight in your present state? This is the most emotion you given to him in days. He wants more of it. He could even sense aura coming from you. It was sharp almost like the pressure of the air got lower, and the atmosphere got heavy. Then all of a sudden it stops. Maybe you were no longer angry?

He needs to feel this sensation again. Hell if he has to bring another one of your friends in here for Feitan to torture just for him to see this happen again he will. Maybe he’ll go deeper next time and bring your mother? He never liked that hag anyway.

“Darling be careful what you wish for, and for what you wish on people. For it could double fall back on you.” Chrollo shut the door behind him.

You watched him walk out the door and you huddled back into a ball on your bed and sobbed silently to yourself.

In your once shared bedroom Chrollo was planning. You showed such a strong emotion. He felt your aura without you even trying to show it off. Who knew you could bring your ability to life without even hesitating. He had to get you to feel that emotion again. He needed to feel your aura on his skin again. Though he didn’t show it he wanted to take you right there when you were yelling and crying at him. It made him feel close to being utterly happy?

You didn’t know a thing. All you felt was rage in that moment know all you can feel if restraint. You acknowledged that Chrollo showed no fear to you and that you wouldn’t win against him or even have him give you your freedom.

It was like all of a sudden the world outside was some fantasy realm you wanted to escape too. Maybe to escape your reality. There was no hiding from it, but maybe you could run if you were fast enough. It would take guts and an extra set of balls to even test Chrollo’s patience.

Though he had a lot. Everyone had their limits maybe you could used that to you advantage, and stretch his patience. Although the consequences might be hectic you had no other choice. You didn’t want to rot in this basement for the rest of your life. You had to get out. No matter what it took. No matter who dies. You needed to get away from him.

Chrollo knew your mindset more than you think so you had to be swift. Chrollo was already imagining the things you would probably do to escape. He was mentally and physically prepared. There was only one way out in his case. That was death. Even though that won’t happen to you anytime soon.

He has to train your brain, and get you to feel something again for him to conjure your nen out of the depths of your soul, so he can take it. It would be perfect, amazing almost. You’re giving him what he needs to be even more successful in his “career” that is enough to show him you love him.

And after all of that you can finally settle down and bear his children. Maybe two? A boy and a girl, or a pair of twins should do. Just the slightest smile appeared on Chrollo’s face thinking about it. Y’know what? That reminds him he needs a journal to write all of this stuff down. He couldn’t wait to feel your aura, and see the expression on your face when he finally gets to explain all of this to you.

#hxh x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #hxh chrollo lucilfer #yandere hxh #hxh phantom troupe #hxh 1999 #hxh 2011 #hxh #hxh chrollo #hxh kuroro #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh x y/n #hxh x you #hxh x oc #chrollo x reader #chrollo x you #chrollo #yandere chrollo

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jomamaofficial · 1 year

Text

An Empty Vessel pt.2 (Dabi x Fem!Reader Dark Angst)

A/N: Happy holidays my lovely toes. I am so sorry for this delay, my laptop broke down 😃😃. I urge you all to read the TWs and CWs because I have delved into dark topics. As always, my Ask Box is open for any requests or just a conversation. I absolutely adore all of you, and I want to take this time to thank you guys for your support. Seeing your comments and messages motivates me to write :) <3. Please remember to take care of yourselves, and enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts in the comments :). TW: Vague sexual harassment, substance abuse (weed, alcohol, smoking), death and bleeding. CW: SPOILER: Season 6, Dabi’s backstory, PFL, AFO and Shigiraki plot, swearing, vague mentions of intimate acts. Taglist: @marlenemckinnonsleftfoot @sukunasleftkneecap @istoleyourmanho3 @witherfag Masterlist Edit: Part 3 😼😼 Word Count: 2919. Summary: In the stories Rei used to read him, heroes always won. Reality wasn’t a story though. The villains won the Meta Liberation War after 6 years of fighting. With the death of Pro Hero Endeavour, and the reign of All For One, Dabi could finally leave his past as Touya Todoroki. He no longer had family. But what about the past that haunted him to this day. A family that belonged to Dabi, not Touya? One that escaped unborn?

——————————————————————————————————

Musutafu, Japan– it made international headlines.

The Paranormal Liberation Force finally did it.

The nation observed a minute of silence for the fall of Pro Hero Endeavour.

Musutafu was now all for one. And the entire nation would soon suffer the same fate.

Dabi stretched his neck to the left, stretching his right shoulder as he fought the growing tingles in his body. Chills ran up and down his spine as his eyes followed the tears of rain flooding the dimly-lit road.

He loved how empty this street was: no cars, no news reporters. There were no signs of nagging parents and their brat children, and there were no heroes patrolling the streets, strutting up and down like they owned the place.

It was just him and the soft sound of the rain which seeped into his socks, staining them with the remains of what was now All For One’s headquarter city.

Dabi wished to hear the familiar croak of Tomura’s voice: the back and forth banter, the late-night clicks of the video game console. Back when it was just them, the League of Villains. Tomura, Kurogiri, Toga, Twice, and him. Back when he didn’t ruin everything.

Dabi never told anyone, but there was a tiny part of his soul that withered away when he was near All For One.

Dabi felt small. He was 5’9; he never felt small.

But that thing would always tower over him. His slimy touch was forcefully ingrained into Dabi’s skin— that thing touched him like he owned Dabi.

And Dabi hated the way his mind memorised the way All For One used his crooked fingers to tilt Dabi’s head up to inspect him.

“Oh he’s a little doll isn’t he, Tomura? Where do you find these pretty boys?”

He hated the way All For One laughed after; it was a broken wheeze that rang murder in Dabi’s mind.

He watched as All For One forced Tomura to laugh with him, and Tomura’s apologetic eyes wavered when he looked back at Dabi.

He hated Tomura for laughing that day.

But he hated that laugh much more; the laugh that tainted the fresh air they stood in.

Now, Musutafu’s entire air was tainted by that laugh.

Now… Musutafu belonged to All For One. And Dabi could only hear that broken wheeze.

It would follow him everywhere.

So despite the rain’s destructive nature, Dabi allowed the weeping drops of the sky to fill the emptiness inside of him. The cool drops were better than the air.

Dabi was just an empty vessel. Nowhere to go, no one to go back to.

The Meta Liberation War quenched everyone’s thirst for blood. The dirt was saturated with the blood of heroes and villains alike.

He found it amusing, he really did as he bore his vacant eyes into the rusting ground. Dabi watched as everyone’s blood mixed together under his foot.

He raised his eyebrows, and chuckled.

‘All it took was death for them to stick together’.

Dabi travelled further away from the battle ground, quite deliberate about the steps he took. He counted underneath a shallow breath.

“Fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty-seven,” until he reached the sixty-second step.

His heel pressed against the seeping soil surging scarlet.

And the world was still.

So still and silent that the gentle wind snuck up on the thin man, and he let out a broken gasp as his knees gave out.

The ringing in his ear struck a bitter note. His chest heaved up and down, up and down, and his eyes were blankly fixed on the ground beneath him. Thick, warm blood oozed through the thin cloth that covered his knees.

Enji Todoroki finally died. And Touya Todoroki was responsible for it.

Touya Todoroki, after 7 years of persistent efforts, was officially fatherless.

Finally, it dawned upon him: after 30 long years, Touya Todoroki couldn’t chase him anymore. He could finally find solace in Dabi.

And Dabi was alone. He had no family.

As the joint finally caught up to him, after four or five rookie puffs, the raven man started asking himself what he was doing here.

Surrounded by a group of homeless men who he caught rummaging in the dumpster, they were huddled away into the darkness of a dimly lit alleyway. It smelled like shit, offending his heightened state of smell. Flies picked on the waste scattered below them, their constant buzz creating a monotonous flow.

Dabi peeled his lips open as he felt each individual cell respire on his skin. His heart felt like it was growing inside of him, puncturing his dry lungs, getting louder and faster with each beat.

As a young boy, he saw Enji drink every evening for two years. Dabi used to sneak a sip when he was alone. Dabi was often alone.

He caught Enji with a lit cigarette in his fingers. Dabi stole one and showed it to his friends. Dabi coughed a lot that day.

Enji never touched drugs. He was against it.

Dabi never took drugs; the thought of it never passed him.

“How does it feel kid?”

Dabi’s consciousness was dragged back to reality, the bleak colours of his surroundings painting a vibrant picture.

“I can feel my skin breathing,” he responded, his lower jaw hanging open as he struggled to keep his neck straight.

Howls of laughter echoed in the distance, but the scarred man took no notice.

The joint was held to his lips, and Dabi took another puff.

Dabi wanted to individually itch the surface of his eyes with his nails. It was miserable.

But the ripple of the individual muscles in his cheeks felt so warm and happy when he smiled. That was less miserable.

So he kept on smiling, jaw still gaping. His staples pulled against his grafts, but the molecular traces of marijuana in his bloodstream shielded him from the pain.

Dabi was taken aback– gravity was working exponentially harder against him. A man touched the corner of his lips, the thick and coarse pad of his thumb sending him back, seven years ago.

Oh he’s a little doll isn’t he, Tomura?

“Boy”, the man slurred, “you’re bleeding.”

He shoved his bloodied thumb in Dabi’s face.

Dabi struggled to focus his gaze on the thumb in front of him, switching between double and triple vision.

“Can’t feel it,” he mumbled, his reactions delayed as he scooted away from the stranger.

“Everything’s breathing except these.”

Dabi was mesmerised by the feeling of his grafts against the pads of his fingers. It restored the faint twinkle in his hollow eyes.

“Why are you all fucked up everywhere, boy?”

It took a few moments to register, but Dabi did respond.

“Useless mom, dick dad.”

A unison of delayed ahhhs followed, and Dabi began to feel a knocking pressure trapped in the inner corners of his wide eyes.

“I was never his first choice,” Dabi chuckled. He wasn’t sure if they could hear him. They sure as hell couldn’t understand him, but he was fine with that.

“I was his first born son. No fuckin’ use. Dropped me like I was a waste of time and money.”

The offensive smell of the blunt dug him further away from reality. Dabi was content with his own company.

It would always be just him, forever and always. Because after everyone leaves, you’re left with yourself– your only support.

The more he delved into his loneliness, the louder he heard his skin breathe, it was deafening. And so the silence on his graft became even louder.

For a man who was considered dead all his life, Dabi wasn’t used to his living body. Senses upon senses, he was bombarded with the constant reminder that he was still alive. Even his dead, unresponsive skin felt alive. Because it was the absence of feeling that felt different.

Many people would describe euphoria as extreme feelings of bliss and joy. It was this boxed definition that led Dabi to believe that he could never feel euphoria. But in this moment, whilst Dabi sunk deeper into his conscience– his doubts finally quiet, time finally stopped.

And his body finally let go.

The familiar bud of the joint met his mouth again, and he inhaled the noxious fumes until he smoked his fears away into the midst of the neverending clouds in the night sky. The full moon gleamed down on his pale skin, bathing his grafts in a lunar embrace.

Unlike the sun, which beat its scorching rays on his sensitive skin, the moon shyly kissed it, leaving trails of beautiful markings that soothed his aches.

Dabi’s heart was working overtime. Blood rushed to his scalp, and his body completely shut down. There was one name that his heart called for.

A name that belonged to the past. The moon shyly casted a glow on that face too, but it averted its lunar eyes when Dabi defiled his past, leaving trails of burns that caused her aches.

He was wrong.

Touya Todoroki, after 7 years of persistent efforts, had no family.

But Dabi?

Dabi had a family.

Dabi woke up to blue skies and a gentle sun peeking behind the stained curtains. His body was sprawled on the tiny bed, his limbs spilling out the sides, here and there. He blindly groped for his phone in the midst of thin sheets, switching it on to check the time.

09:23 AM.

He groaned and threw a dark shirt on top of his eyes, blocking the obnoxious sun as he squirmed to find his sleep.

Moments passed and all he could focus on was the neverending tick of the clock in the corridor.

“Fuck it.”

Dabi slipped on some shirt, and put on some shoes, and slammed the door when he left.

09:36 AM.

No wonder he could hear the tick, the corridor was ghost-quiet.

Routinely, Dabi heaved himself over to the bar, scanning the counter for a quick shot.

09:41 AM.

Toga walked inside the lair, her hands hidden inside the cuffs of her cardigan. Dabi nodded at her as he let out a yawn.

“Everyone die or summin’?”

Toga stared at him, her eyes glazed.

Dabi immediately straightened up.

“Wait, did they actua-”

“She’s gone.”

09:49 AM.

Dabi’s jaw tensed up, gripping the shot glass tighter.

“Who’s gon-”

His body was jolted back into the counter, the loud glass shrieking as it fell from his hands.

“Don’t you dare Dabi. Don’t you fucking dare.”

Her eyes were red. Her fist was clenched around the loose cloth that hung on him.

Dabi averted his eyes from Toga, releasing a shallow breath.

Toga’s chest hiccuped underneath her cardigan, and she hid her face into his chest, staining it with stale tears.

“She’s gone,” she repeated, a broken record.

Dabi clasped his arms around her, his hands patting her head.

09:59 AM.

“She left.”

Dabi reached for the flask hidden in his inner pockets. Bony fingers struggled to open it, fine tremors running through his bones.

‘Twenty-one, twenty, nineteen, eighteen…’

Door number eighteen. A few strides away. But the growing feeling of heaviness in Dabi’s feet warned him: it was going to be a marathon.

Countless strangers pointed at the lone man in a tattered, thick jacket. Dabi grasped at the wire fence that separated the long stretches of the park and pavement, muttering something underneath his breath.

The sight of free cars strolling past him caught him off guard every single time. He had no sense of time, no sense of direction.

He was far, far away from Musutafu.

Here, the air felt fresher.

It wouldn’t be long before it was infested either.

But he had to owe All For One some credit.

His reign of terror gave the PLF members a huge leverage when it came to accessing government files.

Dabi flipped through piles of kojin bangō, particularly scanning through documents of 27 year-old mothers, registered births and quirk-hybrids, and a certain family name.

He found everyone’s name, everyone’s identity; no one was safe.

Yet the name his eyes yearned for was nowhere in sight.

Countless days and nights were spent silently begging for a lead. On day 18, Dabi finally left the building, clutching onto a piece of paper close to his heart.

Saira Uchiyama.

Names didn’t match, but it was the only name that he could trace her back to.

Dabi took the final steps up the road, feeling lighter than he had in days.

It was on his right. There was but a sliver of road that separated Dabi and door number eighteen.

His fingers started picking at the ripping cuticles on his nail bed, and the grown man started to track his breaths.

He took a step.

A car honked at him.

“Watch where you’re going!”

Dabi didn’t draw back.

He took another step, and another, and another. One more, maybe two.

He could feel the gravel underneath his boots. Dabi lifted his broken face and a perfect house stared down at him. Pristine brick walls stood proud; the bright toned paint complimented the thriving flora in the yard. It fit in so well with the lines of houses, strong and shielded.

This was someone’s home. Bonsai trees armed the right side of the yard, some trimmed, others growing wild.

There were two floors and a garage; more than enough for a perfect family.

Dabi was stopped by the fence gates that guarded the perimeters. He struggled to get past.

Encrusted in metal, his eyes laid upon the name beside the door.

Engraved in gold letters, it read Uchiyama.

He was a step away from Saira Uchiyama’s front door.

Dabi’s hand reached towards the door handle, but he stopped when he felt the unwelcoming chill of it.

He eyed the doorbell instead. He fisted his hand that was itching to press it.

The drowning noises of children’s laughter bled through his skull from the park that was behind him. The drones of parents buying ice cream, and husbands holding their wives’ hands. This was the type of neighbourhood he was in.

And someone told him. Since when did Dabi develop the need to preserve this?

He was a lone man, half dead. He was disgusting. He couldn’t find her name. Now he was outside some poor woman’s house. Saira Uchiyama. How would she feel seeing a decaying man waiting outside her front door? How would her husband feel if some uninvited scarred freak asked to meet his wife, hands empty?

He felt a thick substance roll past his cheek and drip onto the clean welcome mat.

Dabi pushed his raven locks out of his eyes, biting onto his knuckles as he struggled to maintain a steady breath

His nails moved to pick at the staples underneath his eyes.

He couldn’t do this.

‘I can’t fucking do this.’

Through his bloodied waterline, he looked at the doorbell one more time before turning around.

He couldn’t fucking do this. Dabi didn’t belong here.

He tried to move forwards but his legs were shackled to the pebbly footpath. His rhythmic heart couldn’t let go. His twisted mind forced him to go.

His desperate eyes latched onto the bed of perfect flowers on his right.

Like an open flame, the flowers stole all his attention. Dabi stilled.

Their indigo petals mirrored the deep colour of his dead skin. He was entranced by the bold opening, the beautiful colour bleeding out and reflecting the glimmering hope that built up in his cerulean eyes.

“What’s your favourite flower Dabi?” Toga asked as she played with her blunt knife, running her thumb across the blade.

“Typ’a fucking qustion’s that?”

“God Dabi, don’t you know how to have a civilised conversation with someone. I’m just trying to get to know you better!”

“And asking my favourite flower’s gonna do that?”

“It’s called small talk, Dabi.”

He scoffed, pushing past the young girl to rummage through the cabinets.

From the corner of his eyes, he picked up on her amber eyes intently pressing him for an answer.

“For fucks sake. Fine. I’ll do your little small talk”, he gave in, evoking a small squeal from the blonde.

Dabi considered her question for a minute, pressing his tongue against his cheeks.

“I saw these flowers once,” he gulped. “They were blue, kinda like flames. My flames. I saw ‘em in one’a those gated areas. I guess they were pretty nice.”

Toga pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side as she tried to paint a picture in her head.

“Do you know what they’re called?”

“The fuck would I know? Probably one of those fancy rich flowers grown by fancy rich people,”, he shrugged.

“I’ll ask the newbie, she’ll know what they are.”

“Have fun talkin’ to lil’ miss know-it-all,” he scoffed, happy as Toga skipped away, leaving him alone. Finally.

A week later, Dabi found out what they were called as he was sharing a cigarette on the roof.

“By the way, they’re called Rindou flowers.”

Dabi quirked up an eyebrow, his lips curled in a sneer.

“Those flowers you like, they’re called Rindou.”

Dabi’s ears perked up at the small giggle that followed.

“I guess I could say being ‘miss know-it-all’ isn’t the worst thing, huh?”

Dabi’s chest heaved as he turned around, his pace fast as his hands inched closer to the doorbell.

Ring.

The wind stilled.

He could hear footsteps run down the stairs.

Click.

The handle moved.

The door creaked open.

It was 09:59 AM.

——————————————————————————————————

Keep a look out for Part 3, my angst-loving toes. If you would like me to add you to the taglist, please comment or message me :).

Edit: Part 3

241 notes · View notes

mychlapci · 5 months

Note

Sorry, I just got jumped by an idea due to this Tweet.

Tarn is assigned virgin by the author and now I want so bad to have Pharma get his virginity and break his nasty little heart. Or at least that's the intention but there's no way Pharma is getting away after wrecking Tarn so hard he thinks it's love.

I'm picturing the war ending slightly before the Red Rust, so Pharma is left with his reputation and unresolved rage. Post-Peace Treaty, Tarn is thoroughly collared and abandoned (dumped) by Megatron and separated from his division to "integrate" and Pharma finds him vulnerable and alone.

Tarn never did anything, but he certainly looked, and Pharma smells weakness and goes up to tell him bygones are bygones and seduces him. Something that Tarn is unprepared for despite talking a good game. Pharma goes full isolation and gaslight and getting Tarn drunk being sweet and pretty and pushing his tipsy body into bed and telking him to be good while he pushes his legs apart and pets him until he opens.

Tarn starts to atruggle to get up through the haze but Pharma plugs into him locking his fuel intake chip. Tarn is floaty and slow and very, very hot with Pharma petting his valve and cooing it him until his wet, says he must open his legs and shakes himself to be taken so easily and a regularly whore for an Autobot all while rocking his palm against him, grinding against his node and stroking his lips and jerking his spike while Tarn struggles to argue and overloads hard when Pharma leans forward and practically purrs "slut" and stops being gently slapping his valve and pinching his spike.

Tarn sobs through it squirting and Pharma calls him a slob, pushing his thighs further apart roughly and says if Tarn likes it so roughly he'll make sure he enjoys it and thrusts into once without any prep making Tarn scream as his seal breaks and his calipers are shoved open painfully quickly without anytime to recover overstimulated so much it transfers into painful and the edges back to pleasure making Tarn squeal while Pharma talks down to him not stopping saying how neglected he is and desperate and spike hungry and Tarn is melting.

He's hiccuping and moaning and rocking back against Pharma which only makes him get mocked more and Tarn is so overwhelmed and feeling something for the first time in so long and is so painfully lonely the moment Pharma pulls out and says he should leave Tarn there wanting and desperate, Tarn screams no and Pharma looks him dead in the eye and tells him to beg and he does.

Tarn by the end is just absolutely broken in and saying yes, i love you, and pharma over and over letting himself be moved and used until he's unconcious only to wake up and be used again. He is thoroughly under and by the time he comes out is absolutely desperate for Pharma's touch and orders.

And then Pharma leaves. He's smirking and proud of himself. He'd taken pictures and recorded Tarn begging and crawling for him and sucming him off and covered in transfluid and snuck them online anonymously.

Tarn, though, will not lose another master and tracks Pharma down to his distant new hospital waiting for Pharma in his house, and instead of being killed, Pharma, who'd sobered up and realized he might have fucked himself has a new murder sex kitten who is demanding orders and the power freely offered and devotion and plugs in pussy first.

OH holy shit I actually had a dream that i answered this ask with a fanfic i wrote. i did… not. i never wrote a fanfic about virgin Tarn getting ruined by Pharma. which is extremely sad.

Anyhow. Obsessed. I love to think about Tarn being knocked down a peg or two… Abandoned by Megatron and left to fend for himself, Tarn is so lost, he just needs a master to worship. Pharma doesn’t aim to become that but he couldn’t have guessed that pinning down Tarn when he’s vulnerable will make him “fall in love” with him. hrghhh I do want Pharma to tease Tarn when he feels his seal tear open as he pushes in, promising to treat him very nice since this is his first time. Not gentle, but nice will suffice. Tarn breaking down sobbing as he loses his seals, clinging to Pharma, valve hot and wet and staining the bed with squirt and lubricant… Pharma’s ego inflates so much seeing Tarn turn into a babbling mess.

When Tarn chases Pharma down again, he's on his knees in under a minute. Tarn’s never felt pleasure like that and he begs Pharma to pin him down and use him again. Pharma was not ready for a full-time commitment but this is honestly amazing, I mean, the power and control Pharma has over him now…

Tarn is clingy and constantly trailing after him, probably creaming into his panels every time Pharma gives him an order, and it would be a little annoying, but at least Pharma can order Tarn to stay in the bed like a good boy and wait for him to get back. He's always so desperate then, grinding into the bed at the sight of him... <3

#tarn is an incel though #virginity kink #texty #valveplug #dubcon

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strange-destinations · 8 months

Note

....I need you to break down which Game of Rassilon characters would survive Dracula now please.

ah fuck okay, here we go. going by @canyourfavesurvivecastledracula's set of critera at the top of the blog...

Riley!Doctor - Wouldn't take the crucifix because she's already got several spare ones in her pockets, somewhere, maybe, she'll go looking for them later. Of course she's sneaking around and getting nosy. It's what she does. Holds Dracula's attention well enough until he says something really blatantly evil, and then she promptly snaps and ruins everything and turns the whole deal into a survival horror game. Finds a rusting sword somewhere and beats the three vampire gfs back with it. Uses her scarf to rappel her way down the side of the castle, and uses a combination of Venusian Akido and clever sonic screwdriver technobabble to disrupt the vampiric influence on the wolves. She's the Doctor. She'll be fine.

Millie - the real-life Amelia Earhart was somewhat religious, so I can easily see her taking the crucifix if offered. Talking and climbing aren't what's going to save her here. Her greatest strength is piloting and repurposing things. In the absense of a plane or spaceship, she might very well hijack the carriage Dracula drove in on. 50/50 chance of her managing to pull this off.

Travis Killian - Travis's greatest strength lies in his ability to fuck with technology, and unfortunately castle Dracula is not wi-fi enabled. He's genre-savvy enough and probably knows enough vampire lore to get a good grasp on what's going on, but that's not going to save him. I don't doubt his ability to survive a few terrifying conversations with the Count, but I do doubt his ability to climb down a ladder, let alone a massive castle wall. Probably going to die without assistance, let's hope he asks for help.

Roman - Roman would try to shoot Dracula several times and miss, every time; but that only happens at the climax of this little disaster. Vampires and Time Lords are natural enemies, so he'd have a pretty good idea what's going on from the start. Being left in a creepy old building owned by a malicious entity that wants him to suffer and lose his mind is kind of already Roman's thing, so he gets bonus points for that. Roman can absolutely talk his way around Dracula and in fact I'd pay actual money to see those conversations. When things inevitably go to shit and he has to run like hell, the aforementioned bad Marksman score kicks in. He fails to even so much as wound Dracula, and probably isn't remotely equipped to climb down the castle walls. The wolves probably get him. Sorry, Roman. He dies, but don't worry, it's all part of the plan.

Carrie Vu - after ascertaining that someone really weird is going on in the town, would turn up at Castle Dracula's front doors and offer him girl scout cookies that she doesn't own in order to sneak in and snoop around. Dracula would not be fooled but would let her in anyway. Every conversation between Carrie and Dracula is the equivalent of getting beat around the head with a rubber chicken. There's no way to predict how any of this will go. Dracula is too bemused and off-balance to contemplate killing her at first. Gets very very offended when he calls her iPhone a foul bauble of man's vanity. Would manage to get at least one good whack in with her baseball bat. The vampire GFs do eventually get her and things look hopeless, but the Corsair swings in at the last moment to rescue her, and the resulting scene is like something off the front cover of a horny romance novel.

Dan!Doctor - Would take the crucifix, insist on paying or giving something back, comedic 5-minute sequence of him pulling random currency and bizarre items out of his pockets. Solemnly promises to do something about the babies getting stolen and eaten, and this is his entire life goal for the next few weeks. Probably manages Dracula marginally better than Riley!Doctor, can keep up and hold a conversation while carefully plotting his exit route. Locates every coffin and regretfully destroys them. Very thoroughly makes sure that no part of Dracula's cunning real estate plan will ever come to pass. Escapes Castle Dracula by jumping out a window because climbing is too slow. He's good at falling off things, he'll be fine probably.

Lita Fane - Lita's wary enough that I have serious doubts she'd even go up to the castle in the first place unless coerced or forced into it. She feels much more like the person to stay down in the town and try to help the people living there. Assuming she has to go to the castle anyway - I don't know if the crucifix would be even recognizable to her as an important item, so she'd probably just be really confused about it, might take it just to be polite. Engineering skills aren't really helpful to her here. I don't think she'd be great at talking to the Count, either. Dracula sets off every red flag possible for her - Lita's having a bad time. It doesn't feel like she'd be an especially great climber, either. Lita's a survivor, but probably not in this case. Vampires were never really the thing she learned how to survive.

Stanley Campbell - Oh, god. Sorry, but there's just no way Stanley would notice that Dracula is even remotely a vampire until it's way WAY too late. 50/50 on him taking the crucifix but I'm thinking maaaybe not. He'd probably end up wandering. Dracula would lose interest in his tangents very very fast. He ain't climbing his way out, with OR without crocs. One way or another, he's not moseying his way out of this one.

bonus: Joseph!Doctor - a stick is just a stake that hasn't been sharpened yet. Dracula's going down.

#the game of rassilon #dracula #bonus bonus: ka ren vs dracula. no details on that one i just want it to exist in the world

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smells-like-mettaton · 1 year

Text

Rating: G Summary: Sans treks through the laughterless Ruins to bring Toriel a donut. She has other worries on her mind. (Soriel, Exiled Queen Ending) Word Count: 2449

XXX

Sans is nothing if not a creature of habit. Routine means Not Thinking and Not Thinking means he can pretend everything’s okay for a little longer.

QC’s bakery is closed. The sheet of paper tacked to the door says her sister caught some kind of bug (metaphorical, unfortunately, or else he’d ask for tips). So no Cinnamon Bunnies he’d planned on gifting Toriel to make up for accidentally sleep-shortcutting into her bedroom last night.

(That better not become a habit. For someone who snores so hard, she’s quick to jump awake, fireballs in hands. She wouldn’t hit him on purpose, and bone’s not particularly flammable, but still.)

Habit. He’s not been on the other side of the door long enough to build new ones, yet, though he will. He has before. Not the first time his life’s up and uprooted like a grinning Vegetoid, and at least this time there are familiar places to backtrack to.

Too bad they’re not open.

He sighs, watching the artificial sunlight filter through the golden storefront window, before shortcutting out of the closed shop.

By habit, he almost ends up at Grillby’s before yanking himself back to the Ruins. Can’t throw those dogs a bone. They’ll have too many questions about the Ex-Queen—geez, even about him—and whatever he says’ll end up back to Undyne and he’s not ready for that.

Ruins. The Ruins are safe, for all that they’re unfamiliar. Papyrus would’ve loved exploring the place, with all its rusted traps and spikes.

He shuts his eyesockets for a moment. No habit to keep him on autopilot here. What was he doing again?

Treats. That’s right. Something loaded with sugar that Toriel won’t have to bake herself. Conveniently, his off-kilter shortcut landed him in the room with the bowl of candy… but pilfering the sweets she’d left out for the Froggits and Whimsuns just to give them back to her is too lazy of an apology, even for him.

Speak of the devils. A pair of Froggits and one shaking Whimsun hop-and-flutter through the door. The moth-like monster bursts into tears at the sight of him, fleeing back into the hall.

“Huh. That’s a first.” His grin tightens. “Normally pals wait to cry until after the joke.”

“Ribbit, ribbit,” one Froggit’s face-mouth croaks.

“(Joke?)” the mouth hidden in the shadows of its belly translates. Different from the Final Froggits Sans is used to, whose two mouths tend to speak in harmonizing tandem. “(I don’t understand.)”

Man. Tough crowd.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He shrugs his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Not everyone’s got a funny bone.”

Not even a groan at that. Just a couple of low, cricket-like croaks.

How has Toriel survived so long with this kind of audience? He can feel the humor leaking out his humerus already.

The Froggits are still staring at him. Warily.

“You know anywhere to get some grub around here?” he finally asks, because the silence is threatening to suffocate him and shortcutting around still-mostly-uncharted territory is a great way to spring one of those centuries-old traps. Just walking until he finds something is out of the question, of course. The Ruins are huge, and his legs aren’t.

“Ribbit…” “(Grub…?)”

Right. They’ve been stuck here as long as Toriel, with even less contact with the outside world.

“Food,” he translates. Though Toriel would probably appreciate literal grubs, too, considering her bug-hunting hobby.

“Ribbitttttt.” “(Ohhh. Spider bake sale. Go out and make a left, then keep going until you reach the end of the hall.)”

He has no idea how far that is, so. Walking. Fun.

“‘Preciate it.”

His slippers scuff across the lavender stone, and he can feel all four pairs of eyes follow him out. Normally he only minds stairs, not stares. But for some reason it makes his vertebrae shiver.

Maybe it was just that Whimsun. The sudden crying, before he could even get a word out… he’s not used to that.

He’s not used to silence. He’s used to laughter and warmth and explosions and booming cries of “SANS PICK UP YOUR SOCK!” He’s used to being at the beating heart of wherever he is—lab or town or bar or, or. Maybe no one needs him, but they like him and want him and he wants them and he never realized how much being alone sucks.

And this is how Toriel’s been living. For centuries.

Maybe she likes it this way, he rationalizes, but he’s heard the excitement in her voice every time he arrived at the door, the faintest longing whisper any time he mentioned his brother or friends. He doesn’t know her at all, and he knows her too well to believe that.

The thoughts buzz in his skull up until his foot plunges through a false veneer of stone.

Normally, he has a healthy respect for puzzles, for all that they’re not really his heritage to claim. Today, as he lands face-down in a leafpile, all he can muster is a flat annoyance.

Maybe he could shortcut back to Toriel’s house and restart from there. But ironically, he doesn’t have a good enough sense of direction to find the bakesale from that angle. If he even can now that he’s fallen a layer deeper underground…

The leaves are pretty comfy. It’s tempting to just lie here. It’s what his old habits want.

Fortunately—unfortunately?—something chomps down on his ankle.

“Contains Vitamin D,” a Vegetoid says, its voice muffled by the tibia in its mouth.

“Huh. So this’s where the jokers’ve been hiding.” Sans grunts and kicks the sentient vegetable away. “No wonder I didn’t Cal-cium before.”

Cal-see-’em. It’s horrible. He’d bet twenty G he can get Toriel to shoot milk out her nose with it.

“Plants Can’t Joke Dummy,” the Vegetoid deadpans despite the grin still carved into its face.

Eh, he can’t begrudge it the grin. He knows how having a one-note facial expression goes. Couldn’t it have at least given him a pity “heh,” though?

“Nah, Dummy’s in a different room,” he glibs despite knowing it won’t get him any results.

“Eat Your Greens,” it replies unrelatedly as he checks the puzzle explanation on the sign and treks back up the stairs.

Ugh. Stares and stairs. They really should just close the curtain on him today.

This time, he pays more attention to the terrain, and makes it to the bake sale with only a few more awkward encounters.

(He hadn’t meant to pick on Loox. He doesn’t pull out the eye trick for just anyone. It isn’t his fault the optical monster had chosen to interpret it as an insult rather than a flashy display of solidarity.)

He blinks at the bake sale prices on the signs. Only seven G for a donut here? Maybe that’s a reasonable price, but Muffet’s Hotland stand was as much of a ripoff as his fried snow. When the Froggit mentioned spiders, he’d expected to have to haggle or barter his way into some baked goods—which was always a good time, with Muffet. She understood the art of a good deal and if she swindled him a bit too much, at least it was going to charity.

Of course, Muffet isn’t here anyway. He doesn’t know what kind of bargaining these spiders would be up for, if any—and considering his track record today, dropping fourteen G in the web is probably his safest bet.

Some spiders crawl down and silently hand him two donuts.

“Pleasure doin’ business with ya,” he says. Habit.

His words echo off of the enclosing walls, topple down like a cave-in. With ya, with ya, with ya.

Somehow, he hates that even more than the silence.

XXX

Routine is like habit’s second cousin. Close enough to crash family reunions, distant enough to flake out when you need it most.

There’s no routine to coming home, ‘nuts in hand, only to find Toriel sobbing in her armchair.

“Uh,” he grunts, too caught off guard to even curse.

Toriel doesn’t cry. She didn’t cry when she saw Asgore’s dust, or when Undyne threatened her at spearpoint, or when she stumbled back over the Ruins threshold, blank stare glazing over her mahogany eyes. And Sans—well, he can’t cry, no ducts to pump out saltwater with, so he doesn’t—doesn’t know what to do.

Now that’s an understatement.

“Spider ‘nut?” he offers weakly, because food never made anything worse.

A wheeze cuts through her sob. She shakes her head, but waves him over.

Mixed messages, here.

“I was gonna get ya a cinnabun,” he approaches with soft steps, “but QC was closed today.”

Toriel wipes her face. Her hands are shaking; her claws leave thin trails in the fur above her brow.

“Of course. Of course, that’s all it was.” Her laugh cracks over the words.

“Huh?” Another step closer.

He wishes he weren’t holding donuts; he’d like to take her hands, pull them away from her face before her claws decide they want to dig in any deeper. He’s not sure that’d be welcome, anyway, after the scare he gave her last night.

“Ap…apologies,” she murmurs. “I… s-so pathetic…”

“Hey.” His browbone scrunches a little. “Not sure what you’re goin’ on about, but I won’t judge. There’s do-nuthin’ to be ashamed of.”

After all of today’s failures, he almost expects it to fall flat, but this is Toriel he’s talking to. A wet bleat interrupts her tears—and boy, that’s a lot of snot. He’s impressed.

“O-oh dear…” She stares down at her slimy hands.

He shuffles the donuts to the dining table so his hands are free, then shrugs out of his hoodie.

“Here.” He offers it to her, and she blinks down at him sharply.

“What—no, Sans—”

“‘S due for a wash anyway.”

He drapes the hoodie over her hands before she can protest any further. Too late, he hopes she wasn’t protesting because she wanted something cleaner to wipe her hands on. Oh well.

“...Thank you.” She clutches the garment tightly.

Something squeezes in his ribcage. They’re both staring, and trying to pretend they’re not, and the fireplace is cold so the only thing he can hear is her still-somewhat-congested breathing.

“You, uh. Want me to give you some space…?” he finally asks.

“No,” her answer is quicker and firmer than he expected. “No, please. Stay.”

He nods. Then, hoping he’s not pushing his luck, he hauls himself up onto the arm of her broad chair. His legs hang off the side, his back pressed to her shoulder.

“Now ya won’t have to break your neck lookin’ down at me,” he rationalizes away the touch.

“How thoughtful.” She smiles with a wet snort.

Her hands tangle deeper into his crumpled hoodie. Her claws are retracted now, though. He’s pretty sure she won’t poke any holes in it. Not that he’d mind if she did.

“I… thought you…” she inhales a shaky breath, “I thought you had left.”

“Yeah, I went out to get snacks and—oh.” He blinks. “You thought I—why?”

She’d thought he left. For good. Not even that he was gone, which could’ve implied she thought a stray Froggit offed him for one of his bad jokes. That he could’ve understood. But left, on purpose?

Nope. Not happening. She’d have to throw him out the doors and recast the seal if she wanted to get rid of him.

“I—I nearly hurt you last night…” she trails off, brows furrowed.

“Yeah, ‘cause I sleepwalked into your room.” Sleepwalked? Sleptwalked? Technically it was sleep-shortcutted, so. Whatever. “That’s, uh, what the apology ‘nuts were for.”

Stupid walking with his stupid legs. He must’ve taken even longer than he’d thought if Toriel had thought he wasn’t coming back.

“Of course. Of course.” Another weak laugh. “I have been falling apart over nothing…”

“I’ll leave a note next time,” he says lightly, but he means it.

He knew he meant a lot to her, but this—geez, this scares him. And thrills him, in a messed-up way that sends guilt itching at his collarbones. Someone does still want him, and that someone happens to be the funniest, sweetest, most incredible monster in the Underground. Staying with her was the easiest decision he’s ever made.

The thing is, where he stays is rarely his decision. Not with his luck. If anything happens to him, and she thinks he left by choice—

He just. Won’t think about that. Honestly, he may look as tough as wet cardboard, but he’s not gonna fall down to any Froggit or Loox.

(And if any twist of fate tries to drop him somewhere new again—he’ll fight and claw with all the determination he doesn’t have. He’ll try.)

(It’s the best he can do.)

He burrows his hand into the hoodie with hers, because the joke he has in mind doesn’t work without touching her palm. That’s the only reason.

“Tori. I’m sticking with you.”

She looks up, and her hand twitches. Still sticky.

“Snot like you can get rid of me that easy,” he says, in case the first quip was too subtle.

And there it is again, that laugh he lov—likes.

(Cherishes. Adores. Wants to bottle and put on everything like ketchup.)

“Thank you, Sans. I am… sorry you had to see me like that,” Toriel says, having mostly recovered. He can’t feel her shoulder trembling against his back anymore.

“Hey, like I said. No judgment here.” He shifts, bumping his shoulder against hers with a grin. “What’re friends for?”

After a blink, a warm smile spreads across her face, uncovering the two sharp teeth poking down from her upper lip.

“They are for worrying me silly, apparently.”

He’s about to apologize when she cups the side of his face, hand still sticky. Her thumb brushes the curve of his cheekbone.

“Also, for making me laugh, and smile, and apologizing for things that are not his fault, and being kinder than I remembered was possible.”

“Uh-uh…” he blushes, warm and blue under her touch. His brain is short-circuiting a little, and it shows in the embarrassingly flimsy joke he comes up. “I know you are, but what am I?”

She laughs anyway. She always does. It’s enough to make up for every silent Froggit and Whimsun and Loox in the Underground.

“You are awfully handsome in that shade of blue,” she answers, and his brain’s short-circuit goes into full power outage—

Only to explode like Gyftmas lights when she presses her lips to the side of his skull, her protruding teeth scraping slightly in a way that makes him shiver.

That’s something he could stand to make a habit.

#sans #toriel #soriel #utdr #fic tag #tali writes

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barrenclan · 7 months

Note

Given that you’re a fan of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, do you have any ideas for a song/songs that would fit any character/s?

OH BOY! Absolutely! :D Here's a few;

"You Stupid Bitch" is obviously a perfect Slugpelt song; that kind of self-deprecation, especially the kind of sardonic hatred that it personifies. With the lyrics about Josh I can also imagine it taking place directly post-Cashew abandoning her.

"You ruined everything You stupid bitch You ruined everything You stupid, stupid bitch"

"Yes, Josh completes me, but how can that be When there's no me left to complete"

youtube

Hilariously, I can kinda imagine "After Everything I've Done For You" as a Ranger to Rainhaze song? Although not all of the lyrics fit I really like the tone of Ranger singing 'how dare you be so ungrateful, for me ruining your life'. It'd also pretty Dustfeather pretty well.

"After everything I've done for you (That I didn't ask for) Do you have any idea The work you're undoing?"

"What's that look on your face? You're horrified You think I'm a monster For doing your dirty work You think love is stainless and pure But beneath all the fantasy There's filth and there's gore"

youtube

And then as a complete joke how about "Let's Have Intercourse" with Deepdark. What a charmer! He's so early-season Nathanielcore.

I'm not adding lyrics... just listen to the song.

youtube

Yes, The Nowhere King is already on the PATFW playlist!

I do appreciate a good FNAF song, especially since Pizzaria is my second favorite game. (SL is first.) Hm, this one is interesting! I can see it fitting Rainhaze pretty well...

"It's a bright new day, and it's your time to shine Time to take your career into your own hands Spend all your money and the stars, they will align"

"Wait, I hear voices on every side And I wonder where And I wonder why Where do they hide?"

"I'm sorry, you've been misinformed This is just a never-ending labyrinth and nothing more Endless circles of fear Chasing cries of children that seem so near Out of reach, you will never find them Don't you see? This is where your story ends"

youtube

I can see it!

"Can't pick them out Can't press them in I'll never hide my scars"

"One unsheathed knife must glint In an alternate timeline's light One rust-ridden blade juts out Of a friendly moonstruck shape" <- I love this turn of phrase

youtube

We got a sleep motif reference boys! Pack it in!

youtube

Oh yeah! I've seen this song used for good PMVs before. I like this kind of music with Rainhaze, too; that stomp-clamp indie kind of sound.

"If they find the body in the basement In the very house that she was raised in" <- ohh......

"So when we get the sign From God I'll be the first to call them I'm taking back the number of the beast"

"Should I choose a noble occupation? If I did I'd only show up late and sick And they would stare at me with hatred"

youtube

Oh gosh yeah I do remember being a little confused by that ask. So ominous! But I agree, it's fitting for him.

"I roam these halls, search the night In hopes that I may see A remnant trace, a glimpse of you"

"There and then, I should have known It was me all along Nevermore to leave here Nevermore to leave here My love is the killing kind"

youtube

Rainhaze has this wonderful effect on people's brains where instead of Thoughts there is Rainhaze. Definitely adding "Her Sinking Sun" to the playlist.

"Torn apart from everyone Her sinking sun I watch it die"

"Animals begging to eat They can't survive Not meant to be"

"Flowers of skin and bone We're all alone Waiting to die"

"Water rushes through my heart It's torn apart By yr trusting eyes"

youtube

That's a cute idea, I like it! Well, not cute all the way, but you know what I mean. Or in another way... Pinepaw looking for Asphodelpaw after she disappears. A shorter timeline, but maybe more accurate to the song.

"Have you seen my sister, Evelyn? Dang, she's gone and wandered off again! I've been lookin' high and low Where oh where'd my sister go?"

"Is she studyin' Kabala? Did she win a million dollars? Or is she dead in a ditch somewhere?"

Boooo I ran out of links fuck you tumblr

#ask #music #rainhaze #defiance #deepdark #slugpelt #ranger #pinepaw #asphodelpaw

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backgroundelf · 3 months

Note

hello, can you tel me about “Source; it came to me in a dream”?

A few months ago I had a dream where instead of taking the ring to Mordor, Frodo and the Ring stayed in Rivendell, which went about as well as could be expected. Sauron's forces laid siege to the valley. During a heavy bout of fighting, the defenses of Rivendell are broken. Frodo grabs the ring, intending to run away and it slips on. Instead of turning invisible, he is sucked into the ring and comes face to face with Sauron himself (I tried to put this under a readmore but tumblr was being stupid)

“Well, aren’t you a curious little thing?” a voice, as smooth and deadly as poison, purred. Frodo scrambled to his feet and turned towards the speaker. He was lounging in Elrond’s chair, red hair spilling out from under a rusted iron crown. He wore robes that were once white, but the hems and sleeves had been stained black with ash. One eye burned like fire, but the other was nothing more than an empty socket with cracks spreading out from the wound. Despite all this, he was still beautiful, fair in a dreadful way. He stood and stretched, lazily making his way to the pedestal in the center of the ruined courtyard. “I suppose I should thank you,” he said. “Because of you, I will be able to reclaim what is rightfully mine.” He reached out towards the pedestal where the Ring lay. “No!” Frodo yelled. Sauron smiled. “It’s a bit late for that.” He lunged for the Ring. Sparks flashed against his fingertips and he yanked back his hand. He looked down at the burned flesh, then to the Ring, and finally at Frodo. “Interesting.” “You cannot have it,” Frodo said, stepping closer to the Ring. “Are you going to claim it then?” Sauron asked as if he had no interest in the answer. Frodo looked at the Ring, then at Sauron. “Go. Leave us, and never come back.” He spoke with a strength he did not feel, and a strength Sauron clearly did not believe. “Very well,” Sauron said. “I will leave. When I get my Ring back. You have no claim to it.” “I inherited it from my uncle. It came to me by right,” Frodo said. He may be terrified, but he was also a hobbit, and hobbits were annoyingly thorough when it came to legal matters such as inheritance. Sauron laughed. “Oh, this is rich. A masterwork into which the crafter has poured his very fëa is stolen, and then is passed on to a thief’s heir. Then, when the proper owner of the piece comes to reclaim their stolen property, they are told they have no right to it, because thievery and inheritance trump everything else. Eru does have a sense of irony after all.” “You cannot have the Ring,” Frodo repeated. “Oh, but I will have it. It’s just a matter of time. You will die, likely very soon, and that barrier will fall. I’m in no rush, I can wait.” He settled back into Elrond's chair. “But you? Each moment we are in here is bought with your allies’ lives. Spend them frivolously, I don’t care, but I’m sure you do. Creatures of the light are always so…sentimental. Of course, you could save them. Renounce your claim, lower the barrier, and once the rIng is mine, I’ll leave. You have my word.” Frodo shook his head. “You will leave today and return with a greater force tomorrow. I cannot let you have the Ring.” “Then it seems we are at an impasse,” Sauron said. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers. “Shall we play a game? The winner gets the Ring, and the loser leaves.” “A game?” Frodo said. He thought of Bilbo, his heart aching to think he would likely never see his beloved uncle again. “How about a game of riddles?” “Riddles?” Sauron asked with a grin. He looked around at the living shadows. “In the dark? I was thinking of something a little older. Do you know where your riddle game came from? It used to be a challenge of songs. Trading verse and weaving words until the mightier singer stood victorious. But time passed, as it is want to do, and the songs devolved into riddles. What once was a true contest of wills became a children’s game.” “You would have us sing at each other?” Frodo asked. Sauron nodded. “Indeed. A proper challenge, worthy of such high stakes. I’ll even be a good sport and let you go first.”

#my writing #ask game #lotr #frodo #sauron

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ovwechoes · 2 months

Text

Dareia's Masterlist Hiya! I thought I'd finally make a masterlist organised by post type (headcanons and fanfics); I'll update it as I go and if you can't find anything you're looking for, send an ask through!

Headcanons:

FYP / What's on their FYP (SFW/General) Jealousy & D.Va, Sombra, Junkrat, Venture, Ashe (SFW) Illari x D.Va / Sunset Mecha (SFW) Talon & After Date (NSFW) Ashe (NSFW) Venture x Junker Queen / PunkRock (SFW) Lucio x D.Va / BunnyHop (SFW & NSFW) ED Partner x Moira (SFW) Worst Habits & OVW Members (SFW) Lucio (SFW & NSFW)

Zarya (NSFW) Relationship with Moira (SFW) Love Languages & Tanks (SFW) ‘Home’ & Supports (SFW) Moira x Transfem Partner (SFW & NSFW) Venture (SFW & NSFW) Concerts & DPS Men (SFW) Concerts & DPS Women (SFW) D.Va x Sombra / CyberPulse (SFW & NSFW) Widowmaker x Sombra / SpiderByte (SFW & NSFW)

Juno (SFW) Mei x Echo / MECO (SFW) Movie Night & Tracer, D.Va, Mercy (SFW) Songs to cry to: DPS Women (SFW) Sub, Switch or Dom & OVW Women (NSFW) - DPS / SUPPORT / TANK Widowmaker / Amelie Lacroix (General) DeadlyTriad / Ashe x Widowmaker x Sombra (SFW) Juno, Kiriko & D.Va (SFW/General)

BoomBox / Junkrat x Lucio (SFW) Supports & Guilty Pleasures (General) BlossomWraith AKA MoiraWeaver / Moira x Lifeweaver: SFW / NSFW MekaMechanic / Brigitte x D.Va (SFW) Tracer, Widowmaker, D.Va & Brigitte Pinocchio Curse Tracer & Brigitte (Platonic) Carpets and Drapes: OVW DPS (NSFW) AFAB / AMAB IronGauntlet / Mauga x Doomfist: SFW / NSFW Symmbra / Sombra x Symmetra (NSFW) OVW Tanks & Home (General)

Novels & Supports (General) Solaris / Juno x Illari (SFW) Talon & Secret Talents (General) Mauga / Maugaloa Malosi (General) Bapsiddy / Baptiste x Cassidy (SFW)

Fanfictions, Drabbles, One Shots:

Binary Hearts: Ramattra x Gender Neutral Reader (SFW) Shadows of Compassion: Brigitte x Gender Neutral Reader (SFW) Twin Obsessions: Sombra x Fem Reader (NSFW/Suggestive Themes) A Cozy Encounter: Lifeweaver x Fem Reader (SFW) A Lesson in Love: Zarya x Fem Reader (SFW) Close Call: Mina Liao x Gender Neutral Reader (SFW) Crown of Rust and Ruin: JQ X Fem Reader (NSFW/Suggestive Themes) Games in the Shadows: Sombra (Evil) x Gender Neutral Reader (NSFW/Dark Themes) A Song of Courage: Lucio x MTF Reader (SFW) A Night of Loss: Hanzo x Gender Neutral Reader (SFW)

An Unwritten Rule: Ashe x Fem Reader (NSFW) True Self: Ramattra x GN Reader (SFW) Past the Point of No Return: Ramattra x Fem Reader (NSFW) Trading Places: Zarya x Fem Reader (NSFW)

#overwatch #overwatch headcanons #overwatch fanfiction #overwatch x reader #ovw fanfic #requests are open #asks are open #darieaspeaks #masterlist

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minniethemoocherda · 2 years

Text

After All is Said and Done

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR EARTHSPARK!

Summery: "Please tell me I wasn't this bad when I was a sparkling." Bumblebee sighed. "No. You were a lot worse." Optimus teased.

ao3

Bumblebee was exhausted by the time they got back to the Malto farm. And it wasn't all due to the battle with Mandroid.

On the way he'd had to stop Jawbreaker from adopting the raccoon that seemed to follow them everywhere, Hashtag from fighting an inflatable wavy arm man and Nightshade from trying to chat up the non-sentient speed train. And now, despite the dark of dusk creeping over the horizon, the new young Terrans were in no rush to get some recharge, having started a game of hot cube with Twitch and Thrash, whilst using the human children as hot cubes.

Bumblebee collapsed onto the bed of hay, keeping one optic on the Terrans through the open barn doors. He felt the warm chuckle of Optimus' baritone as the Prime sat on the haystacks besides him.

"Please tell me I wasn't this bad when I was a sparkling." Bumblebee sighed.

"No. You were a lot worse." Optimus teased. His gaze was also on the choas outside but Bumblebee didn't think that it was the Malto children that his former mentor was seeing. "Do you remember when you trapped yourself in our rust stick cabinet? I worried that the Deceptions had kidnapped you."

Bumblebee groaned at the memory. He'd barely been a vorn old and had wanted more of the treats Ratchet had given him when Optimus had first brought him to the Arc. He'd managed to break open the supply cabinet in Rachet's medbay, only for door to lock itself when it swung shut behind him. Not wanting to face Optimus disappointment he'd stayed hidden for the next few jors until Ratchet eventually opened the cabinet again. Elita later called it his first scouting adventure. Although the stomache ache from surviving off rust sticks for jors hadn't been worth it. Neither had the guilt when he had grown old enough to understand the consequences of eating their ration supplies.

Bumblebee was glad at least that the new Terrans wouldn't have to worry about rations. At the dimming of Optimus' optics, Bumblebee guessed that the Prime had probably had a similar train of thought.

"Stop." Bumblebee told him.

"I'm not doing anything." Optimus replied in that polite mask he used when talking to politicians.

"No but you're thinking it so don't. It's not your fault I was born in a warzone. You did the best you could. So don't appologise for it because I will only ever be grateful."

"It is because of me that there was a war for you to be born into." Optimus sighed, but Bumblebee wasn't going to let him drown himself in unneeded guilt again. He tugged at the big bots arm, forcing Optimus to look at him.

"Hey, it's thanks to you that the Terrans weren't. Besides it was Megatron who striked first. You were the one who fought back. And no matter how long we debate over who started the war, everyone knows that you were the one who ended it."

The light returned to Optimus optics as he gazed down at him.

"How did you grow to he so wise?" Optimus asked.

Bumblebee shrugged, letting go of Optimus' arm.

"Well, I did learn from the best."

"Don't forget, after a battle like that it important to recharge. Rest, I will watch over the Terrans." Optimus said, wrapping an arm around Bumblebee and tucked him against his side.

At the sight of Optimus' smile Bumblebee couldn't hide back his own grin. It had been a long time since he had seen Optimus smile like that. It warmed his spark to be the one to cause it. Even if the moment was slightly ruined by his sudden yawn.

Although for some reason it seemed to make Optimus' smile grow even larger.

And for the first time since he was a sparking, Bumblebee let the beat of his mentor's spark lull himself to sleep.

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c-jay-s-text-posts-only · 1 year

Text

A Rusted Redemption

Written with permission from @jboy44

Jaune felt heavy and groggy when he opened his eyes.

Pushing himself up with a start, he shook himself and looked around. The calm and lush of the dark, colourful forest seemed to thrum, like the heart of another beating in time with his own.

He was alone now.

Alone again.

'Naturally.' He supposed.

Jaune shook his head and grunted, rising up straight to stand up.

'What happened?'

He remembered . . . Juniper . . . Alyx . . . and Lewis . . . Sitting around the bonfire . . . The Cat.

It was all coming back to him.

Jaune had been worried. Those few thoughts he'd had before the memory faded into the deceptive, greying abyss of forgetfulness.

"Come on . . ." He urged himself, "It's not that hard. It's not that hard, REMEMBER!"

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Herbalist had clearly told or showed Alyx something. Likely something important. But he didn't know what.

He wouldn't know what.

Because he hadn't heard.

Whatever Herb did, all Jaune knew was that Alyx had changed. She hadn't trusted anyone after seeing the Herbalist. Not him, not the other Afterans.

Not even her own brother.

Jaune tried to keep out of Herb's cloud, but to no avail. The smoke enveloped the little back room and choked him when he dared to breathe; when he recovered enough to raise his head, he saw nothing.

Just a dark, empty, smokey space.

He didn't know what that was supposed to mean.

'How could nothing mean something?' He would have asked.

He never got the chance.

The clouds faded, and before they knew it, they were in the little back room again. Jaune figured that had something to do with finding himself.

But how could he find himself if he was being someone else?

Growing up, the Rusted Knight was a favourite character of his and his sisters. A selfless, righteous hero whose actions were an inspiration to millions across the whole of Remnant.

Of course, it had been years since he'd last touched the book, and a few details were a little fuzzy. But he remembered the best parts well; his favourite character was in them, after all.

But now that Jaune knew who the Rusted Knight truly was, he began to feel . . . Fake.

How could it be him?

Yes, he'd accepted it.

In fact, he'd been so excited when he realised it.

He knew he was the Rusted Knight.

He knew from the story how he was meant to act.

How the Rusted Knight was meant to be.

But was that right?

Did he really understand what it all meant?

. . .

He did.

. . .

And it was stifling.

Like playing a never-ending game of pretend, with children whose boundless energy syphoned him of any strength. He could never be himself, not as long as the game was on; but when it finally came to an end, as it inevitably had to, who would he be then?

Would he go back to being Jaune Arc?

Would he remain the Rusted Knight?

Or would he simply . . . not be either?

Had he truly been the Rusted Knight?

Had he upheld the image of his favourite hero?

Had he done him justice?

Or had he ruined it all?

Had he changed the story completely?

Jaune had done his best to keep it going the way he remembered. And it had all come terribly apart.

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaune sighed. Deep thoughts like this took a lot out of him. He laid back on the log and steadied himself, just like he used to practice so long ago.

Deep breath in.

Deep breath out.

More of his memory slowly filtred back to him.

The soup . . . having the soup . . . And then . . .

Nothing . . .

Again . . . nothing.

Only . . . waking up here.

The fire had gone out, and he was all alone.

'That was mean.' He thought, 'Why would they just leave me here? Especially after eating?'

They had stopped along the path to the tree. They were tired and hungry, so Jaune and Alyx set about foraging while Lewis and the Cat made up their campsite. Within the hour, a hearty soup had been prepared.

Something about it tasted wrong though, as if some unnecessary ingredient had been thrown in for a laugh. But who would do that? And why?

It hadn't been him.

Then he realised.

Alyx prepared the bowl of soup he ate, and now, neither she nor Lewis, nor the Cat were anywhere to be seen. A line from the story popped into mind.

"The Rusted Knight drank the poison in her stead."

The pieces came together like a splintered plank of wood, securely clamped down and smeared with a globule of glue to dry it in place.

Panic sunk its hooks into Jaune, and he bolted upright at once.

"I will get out of this place." Alyx said firmly, "I don't care how, but I will. One way or another. I won't let anyone get in my way."

Jaune had heard her say that, but he didn't remember when it happened.

So . . .

Alyx had poisoned him.

She must have.

And, of course, Jaune understood why. This was the EverAfter. He knew it better than them, and he was desperate to leave, too. But he had to wait there, for his friends.

But if Alyx was so desperate to leave, why would anyone else want to stay here?

Then, a terrifying thought struck him.

'If Alyx was willing to go this far, then what else would she do?'

Would Lewis be okay?

What about the Cat?

Or anyone else she happened upon along the way . . .

Did he dare think about Juniper?

He remembered her part in the story as well. Alyx rode a big Jackalope to the tree, and it her there left to find the Rusted Knight again.

He dreaded to think.

But if Alyx had rode Juniper then-

The pounding of cloven paws drew nearer and nearer, until a worried Jackalope bounded into view.

"Juniper!" Jaune was pleased to see her again.

But the previous issue remained, Lewis, the Cat, and many other Afterans might be in serious danger.

"I've got to stop her!" Jaune wasted no time.

He quickly picked up Crocea Mors, slung it across his back, jumped up on Juniper, and together, they started looking for footprints.

The chase was on.

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the Tree, Alyx, Lewis, and the cat found the door. The frames creaked, groaned, and glowed as the panels swung open.

'Beautiful . . .' They thought.

The Cat appeared unamused, as if it'd seen this sort of thing too many times before, and wasn't keen to watch it happen anymore.

"I'm ready." Lewis took a deep breath,

"As am I!" The Cat trilled, suddenly excited,

Alyx, however, felt hesitant. An unwelcome, unfamiliar feeling had been tugging at her for quite a while now. Perhaps, for longer than she wished to admit.

She felt . . . bad.

Bad for stealing from the Jinxy Peddler.

Bad for cheating in that game against the Red King. Even though it had technically been Lewis' idea.

Bad for being so rude to the Lively Carpenter.

And even worse about how she treated the Rusted Knight.

The Jinxy Peddler was a thief as far as she was concerned. He'd stole from her first, so Alyx didn't feel too bad for him.

The Red King hadn't been too bad, but both Alyx and Lewis quietly agreed he seemed very skittish. Like he was worried something might jump out from the abstract shadows and end his reign then and there.

He'd even executed two guards who got too close to him.

But the Lively Carpenter was a different story. He was so sweet and had only wanted to help them. The Rusted Knight was the same, though much more personal.

He was from Remnant, the same as her and her brother.

He hadn't introduced himself by name to them, so both Alyx and Lewis called him Rusty - it suited him, considering the state of his armour and sword, and he didn't seem to mind.

Secretly, Alyx had to admit, she did think he was very handsome. Lewis thought so too, which rubbed her the wrong way for some reason.

Naturally, she never said a word about it.

Alyx set foot on the steps leading up to the door, but she didn't take another. Something stopped her. Her desire to leave faded, like a shadow when clouds blocked the light of the sun.

Overpowered by a force unseen; by something she was completely blind to.

Lewis hadn't noticed at first and made it to the top of the steps before Alyx realised she wasn't moving.

"You coming, 'Lyx?" Asked Lewis.

Alyx blinked and looked up. She wanted to go, oh how desperately she wished to return home, see her mother and father again. But now, she didn’t want to.

'Why?' Wondered Alyx, 'What's stopping me?'

The realisation hit her harder than she expected.

She felt guilty.

. . .

This was entirely new for her.

Why should she feel guilty?

The EverAfter wasn't real. Nothing made any sense here. No one here was really real! So why follow the rules? It was all just a dream! Who could figure those out?! She couldn't, so why bother trying to understand?

There was nothing to worry about!

. . .

. . . Right?

The Cat noticed Alyx and turned to face her.

"Alyx?" One of their ears wilted.

Alyx kept silent. She knelt down and touched the tree's root. Tightening her grip around it, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Yeah, I'll be there, Lew." She finally said, "Just- . . . you go on ahead."

"Are you sure?" Lewis didn't like the sound of that,

"Uh-huh." Alyx nodded mutely and stood back up, "I'm sure."

Lewis knew his sister, and this didn't sound like something she would do. He came back down the steps.

"What's going on?" He asked, coming face to face with her.

Alyx sighed.

". . . We did a lot here, Lewis." She began carefully, "And I'm . . . I'm kinda worrying if we may have messed things up too much."

Lewis raised an eyebrow.

"Messed up how?" He needed to know,

"Well-" Alyx gestured to everything around them, "Look how far we went! With everyone! I mean, don't you think we've ruined some parts of this place now?"

"That's a rich spin on it." Lewis knitted his brows together and crossed his arms,

"What?" Alyx was taken aback,

"Alyx, you know everything we did just as well as I do." He frowned and patted the leather book hanging off his shoulder, "You don't think I didn’t know what you wanted us to do?"

"But- then why didn't you stop me?!" Alyx felt betrayed,

"How could I have?" Lewis threw his arms up, "You never listen to half the stuff I tell you!"

"Well-! D- Eh- Hmph!" Alyx huffed and put her hands on her hips, "I just wanted to get out of here!"

"So did I!" Lewis reminded her, "I've been stuck here with you this entire time, don't you think I've had enough too?!"

"Listen, I don't wanna argue with you, Lewis." Alyx quickly shut him up, "I get it, you know better, you're the eldest, so I have to listen to you."

She took a breath and looked her brother in the eye.

"At least now, I know why Momma and Pop-pop'd always tell me to." Alyx shook her head, "Now I'm seeing it all from overhead, I don't like any of it. Anything I've done . . ."

Lewis calmed down a little.

"Okay," He conceded, "So what now then? You're just going to stay behind and . . . 'Fix' everything?"

"I have to." Alyx nodded, "A lot of this is my fault, I can see that now. I have to make it right."

The Curious Cat didn't like the sound of this at all, but remembering Alyx's promise to them was secret, they said nothing.

Lewis nodded back.

"Alright then." He paused, "What'll you do first?"

". . . I've got to get to Rusty." She decided, "We know he knows this place better than either of us. Maybe he can help me-"

"Even after-, y'know . . .?" Lewis raised an eyebrow and rolled his hand,

"I said I want to make things right!" Alyx reminded him, "That means getting him back and waking him up."

"And then what?" Lewis prodded.

Now it was Alyx's turn to pause.

"I guess we'll travel around and see what went wrong wherever we went." She considered.

Lewis nodded one more time. He didn't like this one bit, but his sister didn't seem to want him there for this stage of her journey. It hurt a little, but deep down, Lewis knew this was a step Alyx needed to take.

". . . Fine . . ." He relented, "I'll see you on the other side, 'Lyx."

"You can count on it, Lew." She smiled.

Lewis looked his sister in the eye, and threw his arms around her.

"You'd better be back home soon." He said quietly.

Alyx smiled and hugged her brother tightly back.

"I will." She promised, "Don't worry."

The two separated, looking into each other's eyes one last time, and let go. Lewis turned and jogged up the steps, the cover and pages of his journal flapping open and shut at the corners with every bounce.

Lewis was glad he locked his journal.

Reaching the top, he paused. Then cast one last glance into the EverAfter's forest, and with a wave, he disappeared into the glow.

Alyx took another deep breath.

"Alyx . . ." The Cat sounded very anxious, "What are you doing?"

Alyx winced, she had forgotten her promise. She tried to be gentle.

"I'm sorry, Cat." She said earnestly, "But I have to stay here just a little bit longer."

"NO!" Cried the Cat, "No-no-no! You promised me Alyx, you promised you'd take me back to Remnant!"

Alyx was caught off-guard; the Cat had never acted like this before.

"Uh-" She tried, "I- I'll-"

"You remember, don't you?!" The Cat pleaded,

"O- Of course I do!" Alyx recovered,

"Then what are you doing?!" The Cat demanded, "Why are you staying here!?"

Alyx felt terrible now. If the guilt from before hadn't been enough, then this certainly made it worse.

She had always intended to bring the cat back with her as something to remember the fun by. And even better, she would convince her parents that she and Lewis had actually gone somewhere.

And coming back home with a real-live, talking cat?

That was the cherry on top!

No one had one of those!

As an added bonus, she might turn them into a fat, contented house cat who'd sleep in the sun and chase mice around the yard. That's what cats were meant to do anyway.

But from how they were talking now, they didn't feel like the cat she always wanted to take. For a brief moment, Alyx wondered if this was how her parents often felt about her.

"Come on," She tried again, "We won't take too long. I can't leave everything the way I did."

By now, the cat had lost patience.

"You lied to me, Alyx." They snarled,

"No I didn't." Alyx looked hurt, "I still want to take-"

The Cat lashed out angrily.

"Ah- bad kitty!" Alyx batted them wildly back.

The Cat didn't take very kindly to that, and with a hiss, they knocked Alyx's knife away, badly cutting up the back of her hand with their claws.

"Ouch!" She gasped and staggered away.

She looked at her hand. A few layers of skin had been sliced through, and her warm blood swelled from the slits, trickling down her wrist.

. . .

The pain was real.

. . .

The PAIN was REAL.

. . .

Alyx's heart turned cold, and a weight promptly sank with it. For the first time since she arrived, she truly felt afraid. The Curious Cat stalked angrily towards her on their hind legs.

They had grown well over ten times their old size, their forelimbs were thick as tree branches, and their beautiful checkered fur rippled with every step closer, like the water of the pond where Alyx and Lewis used to skip stones.

From a sugary-sweet light blue and lilac to a starkly picked-out black and white pelt. The Cat snarled again, and its bent whiskers twitched.

Alyx was more frightened now than she could ever remember being. She scrambled to her feet and tried to back away, but something kept her rooted in place.

Alyx had frozen.

"You lied to me." Growled the Cat, "You lied. You're lying just like my creators did!"

Alyx wanted to speak, but her voice did not come out.

"I can see you now for what you are!" Continued the Cat, looming over her like an unscaleable cliffside, "You're broken!"

The Cat swatted her head, Alyx fell to her knees.

"You'll break everything you touch!" Another, harder swat, and Alyx was on her face, "You humans are weak! Lost! Confused! Incomplete!!"

They punctuated each word with every swipe of their paws. Alyx curled into a ball, trying to protect herself as much as she could. The Cat suddenly stopped hitting her.

"But that's alright." They sounded much kinder now than they did before and gently stroked her hair, "It'll be okay, little explorer . . . I can help you . . ."

The Cat forcibly straightened Alyx out and dug their paws into her chest.

"AGH!" She cried.

"I can help you find yourself." The Cat pushed deeper, and deeper, and deeper, "And if I can't do that, then I can mend you . . . Or better yet, I can be you, instead!"

Alyx was in tears; the Cat hadn't pierced through her chest, and she wasn't bleeding from there, but it was getting harder to breathe the deeper the cat's paws went. Like she was sinking in water and had no way to keep her head above the surface.

'Is this . . . the end?' Alyx dared herself to think.

But then suddenly the Cat roared and hissed in pain, wrenching their paws out of her. Alyx coughed and hacked as she came back to reality and scuttled backwards, away from the beast.

Then she saw it. Sticking out from the Cats' hind leg was the worn, brass hilt of a sword, wrapped in old, dirty blue leather. Alyx knew who that sword belonged to.

'Rusty!'

He had arrived with his helmet on; he flew into view and charged the Curious Cat with only his shield. A wide, deep purple wave shoved the Cat hard forward, sending them sprawling into a limp off the platform. The Knight's sword fell from the wound and clattered on the ground.

"Get away from her!" He barked fiercely, and he scooped up his broken blade.

Alyx was out of the way, and most grateful for that. Had she not moved a moment ago, the Cat might have crushed her underfoot when they stumbled.

The Knight spotted Alyx's knife not too far away and quickly snatched it up as well before chasing the Cat into the surrounding woods.

"Drat!" The Cat hated being interrupted, "Bother you, Rusted Knight! You'd dare stand in MY way? I'm surprised you're standing at all!"

The Knight readied both blades and his shield.

"You've told enough lies." He said bluntly, "Her mind isn't a ball of yarn for you to play with!"

The Cat, by now, was blindly furious and swung with every ounce of strength as they could bring down on their adversary. The Rusted Knight didn't even flinch, and tanking the blow with ease, he knocked them away.

Alyx watched with bated breath as the two battled within the trees.

'Rusty' was pulling every trick he knew: grip switches, head-butts, and high kicks, anything he could remember from his training to keep the Cat at bay.

He smacked his shield against the Cat's nose. And in an unexpected flash of light, their fight ended.

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When it faded, everyone realised they were no longer by the tree but somewhere else entirely. Jaune and Alyx looked around. It was early in the morning, and this didn't look like any place they'd gone before.

The Cat was still angry, but it wasn't as bad as before. They were back to their original, small size, but their light blue checkered fur had faded, blending in with the rest of their violet fur.

"Lousy meddling knight." They mewled, ruefully nursing their nose, "She made a promise to me. I merely wanted her to keep it."

Jaune knew how important it was to keep the promises you made. It was his family's creed, after all. But he knew that forcing others to do so wasn't always the best idea.

"She'll go back to Remnant when she's ready." He told them, "Not when you want."

The Cat wrinkled their snout and sneered, but Jaune just kept his guard up and glared.

"Leave her alone." He demanded, "Like I said, you've already told enough lies."

The hairs on the Cat's back stood up as they hissed at him one last time, then they calmed down and licked their forelimb.

"Fine." Grunted the Cat, "I can see it's no use."

They got up with a grunt and limped feebly away.

"At least I now know what not to do." They sighed, "Thank you for this lesson, Alyx. Caroll. Explorer. I'll be on my way now. I hope you find what you're looking for."

And taking a few more steps away, the Cat disappeared from view. Now it was Jaune's turn to sigh, he was relieved. He trudged back over to Alyx and knelt down to properly look at her face.

She was still very shaken up by everything that just happened.

"Are you hurt at all?" He asked, trying to sound as kind as he possibly could.

Alyx didn't answer at first. Her eyes were wide, and she seemed too afraid to even speak.

"Here, let me see that." Jaune very carefully took her hand in his.

Tears welled in Alyx's eyes. She couldn't believe this was happening; she tried to kill the Rusted Knight, but here he was, still treating her kindly and gently.

"I'm-" Her voice finally returned to her, "I'm sorry . . ."

Her lip trembled, and her tears began to spill.

Jaune's stern expression didn't falter. He wanted to be upset. He wanted to be angry. But as much as he wished he could blurt his anger out for all to hear, he didn't.

He knew deep down that wouldn't help Alyx whatsoever. And so instead, he simply sighed and scooped her up in his arms.

"Rusty?" Alyx felt more nervous now,

"Your hand will be fine," Jaune said thoughtfully, "but you need more help than I can give right now. There must be a place we can get you patched up."

Alyx couldn't argue. She just clung to 'Rusty' as tightly as she could and properly began to cry.

"I'm sorry, Mister Knight . . ." She sobbed quietly, "I'm sorry!"

Jaune shook his head.

"Alyx, it's-" He wanted to wave her off,

"Don't tell me it's okay, I know it's really not!" But Alyx wouldn't let him, "I shouldn't've been so mean, I get it now!"

"Do you, really?" Jaune asked reflexively,

"Yes!" Alyx sobbed,

"If you knew it was wrong, then why didn't you do anything about it earlier?" Jaune wasn't as upset now.

He just wanted to know.

"I was scared!" Alyx didn't hesitate, "I just wanted to go home and- and see Momma and Pop-pop again! I didn't mean to hurt anyone, I mean it!"

Jaune could tell she was being sincere, and did what he could to pat her head. But he was still perplexed.

"Alright, I believe you . . . then why didn't you go back through the door?" He had to ask.

Alyx sniffled.

"I have to fix-" She insisted, "I have to fix all of it."

"All of it?" Jaune was even more perplexed,

"I know I did a lot of bad things since I got here." Alyx admitted sheepishly through her tears, "When I was leaving with Lewis, I- . . . I just . . ."

And she trailed off; Jaune found he really didn't have it in him to be angry at her anymore.

Not now.

Because he understood what she was trying to say.

And realised, had he been in her shoes, he might have acted the same way she did. Obviously not as he was now, but as a twelve-year-old in an unknown land where nothing made any real sense.

Without his parents there to guide him along.

Or the siblings he always wanted to be around.

Or the friends he'd made what felt like a lifetime ago.

How much of his younger self did he see in Alyx?

What about her reminded Jaune of his younger sisters?

. . .

There was so much. And yet somehow so little.

. . .

Jaune shook the thoughts from his head. And saw that Alyx was still crying.

"I'm sorry." She murmured again.

"Don't worry." He soothed, "It'll be alright now."

Jaune glanced around. The ground was white. Not because of snow, there was none around, and it was actually quite warm out. He took a step forward, but this time, he properly heard the sound from under his boots.

'It's paper.' By now, Jaune was even more puzzled.

Juniper trotted up to them, and Jaune carefully helped Alyx up her leg.

"Alright . . ." He put a hand to his chin, "You need bandages, and I need- uh, something for whatever I ate . . . So where can we go for that?"

Alyx wiped the rest of her tears with her uninjured hand and gazed ahead.

"Maybe that little star-thing can help us?" She suggested.

Jaune blinked.

"What star-thing?" He raised an eyebrow.

Then he looked the same direction she was, and he saw it. Waddling happily up to them was a little red star.

Jaune blinked in surprise. It was made of folded paper, and had little pink overlapping bubbles dotting its wings and legs. He'd never seen anything like this before.

"Hello!" The Star chirped with an elegant pirouette, "Welcome to our village! We hope that it pleases you. Would you be so kind as to tell me what you are so that I may serve you?"

Jaune and Alyx exchanged glances.

"Serve us?" Jaune asked carefully,

"But of course!" The Star answered earnestly, "As a Paper-Pleaser, it is my duty to serve all who come to our village!"

"Paper-Pleaser?" Alyx tilted her head,

"Indeed!" The Star chirped again, "Come with me, our village is only down the hill from here."

Seeing no other choice, Jaune guided Juniper after the little red Paper-Pleaser. But he couldn't really focus just then. His mind wandered back to those vicious thoughts he'd had before chasing after Alyx.

Growing up, the Rusted Knight was a favourite character of his and his sisters. A selfless, righteous hero whose actions were an inspiration to millions across the whole of Remnant.

For a moment, he felt bad for thinking she would do anything so horrible. Despite how reasonable it had been to do so.

Jaune knew who he was here in the EverAfter. He accepted it, but now he didn't feel as stifled.

Yes, there came an enormous pressure with being the Rusted Knight. And yes, that pressure had been thrust on him.

But the story hadn't played out the way he'd read in the book.

Maybe that had been his fault.

Or maybe, when Alyx wrote the book, she would change some things.

Anything was possible.

But with that in mind, he realised now he'd done more than what had been written about the Rusted Knight. And more than that, he'd been truly able to help in the end.

He'd been more than just a guide. He'd been more than just a shield. Sure, Alyx was hurt when he wasn't looking, but she was still safe from harm.

Although Jaune was sure he could've done more, he found he was glad to have done anything at all.

Perhaps in the end, he had done the Rusted Knight some small justice after all.

#rwby #rwby volume 9 #jaune arc #the rusted knight #alyx and lewis #the curious cat #get that motherfucker #redemption

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allycat75 · 8 months

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We see you and your handlers, Boston Dumb Fuck (probably more your handlers).

We have been noticing anons coming to various blogs with a couple of sets of storylines- either "what type of girl/woman would you be happy for Chris to be with?" and "I think he is an awful person and the worst actor in the world and he ruined Steve Rogers".

I am not one for conspiracy theories, but I have been here long enough to notice patterns. We just saw it with the anons asking "what would it take to believe it isn't PR". When the consensus was more organic sightings, we got the photoshopped GG party pics and mentions (by the way, I can't remember the blog, but thanks for finding the 2020 pre-Golden Globe party pics- blue blazer, rust turtleneck- which are clearly the original images, at least for you BDF, and probably why Vogue took it down). And of course we got the oh so romantic group date, with Gully overacting to highten the importance, all leading up to the "natural" double chicken peck with the mouth wipe dismount. I think we are still waiting on the score from the Russian judge, but you have strong odds to medal in the Pathetic Olympic Games. However, you will not be allowed at Whole Foods because scientific analysis came back and it was determined you are too manufactured and modified to be considered organic.

So now to the new intell gathering. One is seemingly to gauge how far gone we are as a fandom, perhaps? Maybe would we even welcome you back as Captain America? General feedback is that there is talent in you, BDF (not for the wifey, she is hopeless) but here is an odd concept- maybe you need to work at it, instead of planning and executing these stupid stunts that make you look like a fucking joke. Have some humility that you are not magnificent and take some acting classes, and probably engage in some intense therapy because whatever is blocking you in your personal life is blocking you in your professional life. And remember, Sam Wilson/Anthony Mackie is Captain America. Whether he succeeds or fails, you don't need to come back and look like the White Savior. Also, it would just be sad, like the guy who keeps visiting his high school long after graduating (and we all know why that isn't a good look for you, either).

As for whether another 26 year old would look good on your arm, if only she weren't an arrogant, childish, manipulative, racist, antisemetic, fatshaming clout chaser, my question is why does it matter what we think? If you and your team are thinking of "recasting", don't! Just cancel the show! You are not a character. Your life is not a script that needs tweaking. You should never do this type of arrangement again-EVER!

And as for your next "real" relationship, that isn't for us to decide. What I will say is that you need to get your shit together and be good to yourself or you won't be good for anyone else. This situation exposed how damaged you are by agreeing to it in the first place, with so little guardrails, and caused even more damage by exposing how much of your personality and character was built on matchsticks. There is so much to repair and build back stronger before you should even think about a partner right now. But a little tip- once you are ready, it is no one's goddamn business but the two of yours what you do and how you make each other happy. Hold it precious and don't stop learning and growing.

And finally BDF, fire your entire team- agents, publicists, stylists,... Start with fresh ideas. Even if they have been kind to you and don't have ill-intent, they have gotten you into a rut that you desperately need to be forced out of. Especially if their only solution to get you more work as an actor is to see which Netflix Chick they can whore you out to, they do not have your best interests in mind.

Also, this is just another example of where the fandom has been used and abused for emotional manipulation and free labor, so keep that in mind as you begin to balance the karmic scales again. We haven't forgotten.

#Ai in human form #brian wilson vibes #i don't like hypocrites #i hate manipulation #liars suck!#you are the company you keep #do better #get some help #is this the life you wanted

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cat-esper · 7 months

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I thought I'd redo my intro post and this time make it ✨pretty✨

I'm Cat [she/her | aroace] and I write sci-fi and fantasy with a dose of cosmic horror. I love mixing genres and general experimentation. Whether my work is marketable or not is less important than having fun. My absolute favorite things are found family, robots, and time travel, and I am a firm believer that platonic relationships can be just as fierce and important as romantic ones. Most of my novels are set within a shared universe I call the Starfish Saga and that's my main focus, though I do have quite a few exciting projects outside that.

I am quite shy but love making new writer friends and am open to tag games and ask games and other sorts of writerly socialization.

I have...a lot of projects. A worrying amount I try not to think about. But! Below the cut, you'll find the ones I'm focusing on for the time being, now with new and improved titles.

Books of the Starfish Saga

The Last Paladin | YA science fantasy | 12 part series

When Chelsea Seaver's parents are abducted by aliens, she embarks on a grand adventure across the galaxy--making friends and learning magic on the way--to bring them home.

Status: books 1-3 drafted

Intro | WIP tag

Incantations of the Mad Mage | YA epic fantasy | 6 part series

In order to honor her dead mentor, battle mage Arna Vaughn races against the Sforia Empire to locate six legendary magic spells that have the power to end a bloody war; whoever finds them first will change the course of their world forever.

Status: drafting book 4, editing book 1

Intro | WIP tag

Records of the Spiral | YA portal fantasy | 4 part series

Three misfits stumble into a surreal world inhabited by strange creatures and watched over by the eldritch Enochians; it's a place they belong to more than Earth and if they don't want to see it destroyed, they'll need to stop the very beings who created it in the first place.

Status: drafting book 1

Intro | WIP tag

Music of the Spheres | YA science fantasy | standalone

Shay Finnegan leaves everything behind when he decides to become a light-wielding Paladin, a protector of the galaxy, in order to find a higher purpose and avoid the fate that haunts him with the words you will bring everything to ruin.

Status: rewriting for the millionth time

Intro | WIP tag

Red Ghost | YA contemporary fantasy | novella

Mel Black joins a ghost-killing organization in order to free the spirit of her dead friend from a fate worse than death, but saving him might just mean the end of humanity.

Status: pending edits

Intro | WIP tag

Nightland Nexus | epic fantasy | 5 part series

As tensions rise across the worlds, a group of characters seek to satisfy their own ambitions, but they'll need to team up and unite the worlds to prevent a long-dormant Darkness from awakening.

Status: world-building

Intro | WIP tag

Sundial Fates | YA sci-fi western | 10 part series

A time machine crashes on the edge of town, launching three reluctant teens into the biggest adventure of their lives. They may be able to face down alien invaders, mad scientists, and unfathomable entities, but can they face the truth about themselves?

Status: overhauling the plot/updating the lore

Intro | WIP tag

Other Projects

The Zodiac Circuit | post-apocalyptic sci-fi | duology

Rhys Valencya reluctantly teams up with an android in order to stop her own family from resurrecting the lich that almost wiped out humanity centuries ago.

Status: drafting book 1

Intro | WIP tag

Androids Don't Rust | time travel | standalone

With human extinction inevitable, four androids are sent into the past to retrieve data for the Archive that will outlast humanity.

Status: very early planning stages

Intro | WIP tag

Robbery on the Hell Express | weird western | novella

Occasional partners and oftentimes enemies, Harlan Nye and John Callahan team up to rob a ghost train--betrayal, deadly wraiths, and a lethal race against the clock mean they may not make it out of this alive.

Status: planning

Intro | WIP tag

The Chronicles of Josephine Mercer | dark pirate fantasy | ongoing series

In a darker version of the 18th century Caribbean, mutineer and newly self-appointed Captain Josephine Mercer escaped the navy with a ship and ambitions that would see her become the bane of the British Empire.

Status: research/world-building

Intro | WIP tag

Liminal Spaces | urban fantasy | 5 part series

Caffeine fueled video game artist, Ref Sanderson, comes home one day to find his daughter is missing. Turns out, she's been making new realities in her free time. Now she's trapped in one and he'll need to learn how to enter and fabricate realities himself in order to save her.

Status: plotting

WIP intro coming soon

Other Starfish WIPs I'm technically working on, in the background, that I probably won't talk about unless someone wants me to:

The Siege of Coracaltone: a space opera about cinnamon roll wizard Flynn on a quest but gets sidetracked by space pirates (waiting for a rewrite)

Pirates vs Dinosaurs: cosmic horror about, you guessed it, pirates and dinosaurs and the slow dissolving of their sanity (drafted and just waiting for editing time)

Dreams of the Spiral: a prelude to Records of the Spiral about the band Red Tape Rocket and the summer things got really weird (still being planned)

If any of them pique your interest and you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know!

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