frogonamelon · 20 days ago
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Early Adventure Time episodes: Ice King "kidnaps" Wire Princess, a vaguely humanoid heap of scrap with a smiley face painted on its "head" which he obviously made. Finn wants to stop him on the principle of kidnapping being bad, while Jake argues that since his "victim" is an inanimate piece of junk, no one's getting hurt and it might even quell his kidnapping thirst. After a series of shenanigans, Ice King attacks Jake, at which point Wire Princess speaks, revealing that not only was she alive, but consenting to the kidnapping as well, because of Ice King's fluffy beard. But now that she has seen him attack Jake, another fluffy thing, her heart is wavering and she must journey alone to find the true meaning of fluff. The end gag is Ice King screaming "She was alive?"
Middle Adventure Time episode: Raggedy Princess' kingdom is being attacked, and the assailant is revealed to be none other than Wire Princess, whose quest for fluff has turned destructive. PB appears excessively distraught by this, and it's revealed that she created Wire and Raggedy Princess (then known as cloth princess) in a recreation of the monkey experiment to best gauge her approach to ruling, in the early days of the Candy Kingdom. However, when the Wire Princess AI realized the candy people were more driven to Cloth Princess' caring nature, it logically concluded the only biological need of candy people is "fluff", and so tried her best to imitate Cloth's behavior, while Cloth Princess' deeply ingrained love for her citizens caused her to attempt to physically care for them. Declaring the experiment a failure, PB mind-wiped them both, gave Cloth Princess a new kingdom and name, and put WP in sleep mode, as well as left her in Ice King's junk pile. Jake, who has been listening, says "PB, that's messed up, man". Although they deliberate whether to reboot her again, she ends up being smashed by a gumball guardian or something. While everyone staress in shock, Raggedy Princess says "That's messed up, man. Also I didn't have time to say this earlier but I'm fine with either Raggedy Princess or Cloth Princess. So, um, yeah. Anyway, I'm going to call the cleanup crew"
Late Adventure Time episode: A strange techno-magical maze appears out of the blue in the Ice Kingdom. Finn and Jake explore it and find imagery of both softness and some sort of pre-apocalypse university, ultimately discovering it was created by Magic Woman/Betty mind-melding with Wire Princes, who was trying to reverse engineer an AI with love magic infused through Simon or whatever. She inadvertently mind-melded then, accidentally creating the semi-physical maze with her magic powers, and in turn realized that WP was, in fact, not only functional and aware this whole time, but she also had a slowed down perception of time. Finn and Jake sever the link after fighting some techno-nightmares. Magic Woman, despite only having been mind-melded for a day, has experienced a whole year, and appears distraught. But this is only momentary, as she declares that her accelerated madness means that her magic will grow exponentially stronger, and runs off appearing to have a plan. Finn and Jake are worried about Wire Princess going haywire (the pun is pointed out), but she clarifies (her voicebox is working now, but not much else) that actually, since she didn't have or understand emotions for most of her aware existence, she was just fine then. She then goes on a beautiful monologue about how, since she's now bonded to one, she finally, truly understands emotional beings and their complex needs. She renames herself "wire knight", and downloads her consciousnesses onto Finn's arm. A later episode has BMO and Wire Knight debating the trolley problem
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gretavanlace · 1 year ago
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Stars Collide
Josh Kiszka x reader
18+ only! Minors do not interact!
Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, adult themes, semi public sexual acts, dirty talk, pet names, digital penetration, etc.
First, special thanks to this ask who got my gears turning, I know it isn’t exactly what you asked for, but I hope you love it all the same. Second, I asked for josh pics and ya’ll 👏 came 👏 through 👏 Thank you so much for taking the time to help out with my little request, you guys are the greatest! They were all incredible, but in the end @jakekiszkasbelly-button killed it with this stunning pic featuring a camera flare-halo that stole my heart. Just look at him!
Photo credit to the lovely @indigo-starcatcher
You wake with a start, eyes wide with drowsy confusion, and he thinks you’re adorable. Like a tiny baby bunny, startled in the brush by rustling leaves. It makes him want to scoop you up, to hold you cupped in his hands, safe from the world. To peer down at you and soothe your nerves softly. To pet you and marvel at your softness, your warmth….
It also makes him long to corrupt all that innocence. To strip it away down to the bones of what you’re really capable of. That wicked glint in your eye that appears when there’s no one to bear witness but him - he wants to see it.
“Josh?” Your voice is gritty with the impromptu slumber you’d fallen into after the show. Curled up like a cat in one corner of the couch in the corner of his dressing room. He hadn’t the heart to disturb you.
Instead, he’d lost the satin suit and showered, and was now slipped into something a little more pedestrian, scribbling lyrics and ideas upon the lined pages of his notebook, sipping from a glass filled with honey-laced whiskey.
He speaks softly, as is so often his way “I’m here, princess.”
Your gaze swings over to him, and he watches the tension leave your form and loves you just a little bit more. They way you find solace in his presence softens his heart indescribably.
“It’s so quiet.” You sigh, arms reaching for the ceiling in a dramatic, feline stretch. “Where is everyone? Did I sleep through the apocalypse?”
He laughs gently, eyes trained on the page where he’s finishing a rough sketch to present to wardrobe. You’re right to ask questions, he knows. Normally the energy backstage is electric before a show, and even more so after. Voices booming from all directions, golf carts grinding up and down the halls, equipment being dragged across concrete, shouts of congratulations and instructions. The rock and roll circus of live wire sound is easily tuned out as seasoned as you all are. Silence, on the other hand, is deafening.
“They’ve all gone back to the hotel.” He shrugs, setting everything aside in order to focus on you. He loves to watch you do anything, but witnessing you inch your way out of floating dreams deserves his full attention. “I told them we’d just call a car. Wanted to let you sleep.”
You shimmy your shoulders in a mock shudder. “This feels weird. It’s way too quiet.”
A smile that it feels like he can’t help, shapes his lips beautifully. You resemble a fallen angel, all wrinkled skirt and tangled hair, a groupie who just clawed her way out of the pit, disheveled and out of breath, all for him. “It is sort of weird, isn’t it?”
An idea lights his face up, urging an unsure giggle out of your sleepy chest before he’s even shared what he’s thinking.
“You want to go walk around a little? It’ll be like being at school after a play. Remember that? When the halls and classrooms were dark and it felt like you shouldn’t be there…when it felt like some strange, alien, terrain…remember?”
His enthusiasm is catching, “No, I don’t remember that…I wasn’t a theater nerd.” You toss a tasseled throw pillow at him and, in retaliation, he rises and grabs your hands, tugging you to your feet.
“That’s what’s wrong with you, my love.” He nudges you closer to your shoes and smooths out your clothes while you toe them on. “Too much time bouncing around in your little cheerleader uniform and not enough time down in the trenches with the drama club dreck.”
“I wasn’t a cheerleader and you damn well know it.” You roll your eyes with love and swing open the door to find the hall desolate and dimly lit. “You don’t think we’re completely alone in here, do you?”
“Nah,” he steps out behind you. “They’d kick us out before all that. But even if they missed us, there’d be security. Still, probably the closest to alone we’re ever gonna be.”
You spin around, grabbing up his hand tightly in both of yours…the spirited fire in your eyes lighting his own. “Let’s go check out the stage. Think anyone will stop us?”
“Pfft,” he scoffs, waving you off like he can’t believe you even said such a thing. “Do you have any idea who I am, princess?”
“Humble, aren’t you, Kiszka?” You kiss the air at him and trot off ahead in the wrong direction.
“Hey, Lewis and Clark?” He calls out smugly, “Stage is this way.”
~
“Look at all these seats,” you marvel, staring out at a sea of now empty chairs feeling nearly worshipful. An incredible talent stands beside you. Warm as the sun, and just as revered. You’d kneel at his feet, a peasant before her king, if it might please him…though he would likely despise it.
Unbeknownst to you, he’s thinking the same thing about you. Wondering at your beauty, and how it threatens to steal the breath from his lungs, even in the shadows of the darkened arena. Loving you and your gorgeous soul. Adoring your light. You are an angel. His angel. His princess.
“You fill these seats,” you shake your head, amazed by him as if he’s brand new. “Ever think about that? You and your brothers, you fill these seats. It’s incredible what you guys do. I’ll never get enough of it.”
He sidles up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, chin on your shoulder. “You don’t get bored with it? Same show night after night? Rehearsal after rehearsal?”
“Same jokes…” you tease sweetly, “champagne, caviar, anyone?”
“Shut up,” he squeezes you with a quiet chuckle, “I haven’t used that one in a while. It’s a classic, though.”
“You look like a god, you know?” You’ve fallen hushed, picturing the way he shines, “Divine, a graven image come to life. Sometimes it’s like…it’s like I forget I even know you. You aren’t my Josh, how could that breathtaking spirit glittering under lights be mine? You’re magic.”
“Not to negate the poetry in which you’ve just showered me, but it makes my dick hard when you talk like that.” His lips have found the spot just below your earlobe that makes you shiver.
“Yeah?” You’ve begun swaying along with him to some inaudible song it seems you both can hear. “Well, what doesn’t make your dick hard?”
“Hey!” He nips at the side of your throat in punishment. “I put it away for this tour.”
You gasp and tingle beneath his kiss, but hold fast to your footing. “Mmm-hmm. We’ll see how long that lasts. You’ll get tired of tucking. Plus, you like it when they look.”
Now, his arms have loosened to allow his hands to explore the silken skin of your stomach…palms searching and slow, hidden below your shirt. “Maybe I do like it. Maybe there’s no maybe about it.” He pulls you closer and there is his cock, hard and inviting, no longer concealed behind a stage costume, but pressing into the small of your back like an offering. “Do you like it? When they look? When they want what’s yours? When they want to fuck what’s yours?”
He wants you to say yes. He wants to know that you find some sort of perverse pleasure in it, the same way he does. He wants you to love their need as much as he does. He wants you to be secure in his love enough to enjoy it all.
And he’s in luck.
“I do like it when they look. Sometimes it makes me want to go out there and drop to my knees right in front of them,” you confess, listening to his breathing pick up, “makes me want to suck your cock right in front of them. To show them that you don’t only sound pretty when you sing.”
He’s toying with the button on your skirt now, like he’s contemplating unfastening them, like he’s wrestling with the idea of something he knows he shouldn’t want.
And he is. He’s thinking about laying you right down, of giving it to you right there on the catwalk beneath both of your feet. He’s imagining how lovely you’d sound given the acoustics, he’s wondering how loud he could allow you to be. His beautiful mind is pondering how open you might be to the idea, whether you’d think about the risk of getting caught, whether you’d care even if you did think about it.
“When do I sound pretty, princess? Besides when I sing?” He gives in to how badly he wants you, but forgoes the buttons, choosing to slip his hand under your skirt from behind, instead. “Hm? Tell me.”
“Josh,” it squeaks out of you, and he’s never loved the sound of his own name more. His fingers inch under the hem of your panties in reward.
“You sound pretty when you can’t catch your breath,” the pads of his fingers circle your trembling entrance, gathering your warm, slick, desire, as his opposite forearm snakes around your throat to hold you in place. He listens with rapt attention as you whisper his praises. “And when you moan. When you get close and start to whimper, that’s pretty…the filthy things you say, pretty…even prettier when you cum. I think about it all the time, the way you sound.”
He sinks into you, curling and stroking, petting you from the inside. “Wish they could hear you. All those beautiful little whines when you’re right on the edge. You’re a star, princess. You’re a fucking star.”
Thankful for his centering hold on you, you reach back, gripping his thigh for a moment before grabbing at his cock as your body rolls and arches, free hand squeezing viciously at your breast, urgent and frantic in your need.
With a kiss bestowed upon your temple he brings his lips to the shell of your ear and hums, “Reach down and touch your clit. Rub her just right while I finger fuck your sweet little cunt. Want you to feel good. Can you do that, baby? Can you feel good for me?”
A hurried nod accompanies a breathy gasp of his name as he works you over on stage, on display like art for the gaze of anyone who might happen upon the both of you.
You can’t imagine caring any less. You want this, and you want it now. Let them see.
“Be a good girl and close your eyes, princess.” Your lids drift shut, instantly obeying his gentle command. “You listen so well. My princess likes to make me proud, doesn’t she?”
“Yes,” you thrust your hips forward, wanting, needing, him deeper still.
“I’m honored, my love.” His lips are kissing over your cheek, nuzzling and pecking tenderly as he fucks against that heavenly spot deep inside that makes you want to scream. “Keep your eyes closed. Picture them out there. Watching you. Watching you flush and squirm. Watching me want you, watching me touch you, watching me take you apart. Wanting to be you. Wanting to be the girl up here with her cunt wrapped up tight and wet around my fingers…making such a pretty mess of me.”
“Fuck,” the obscenity flits off your tongue as you gush into his palm.
“Yeah?” He taunts, biting tingles into your dewy skin. “You like that? Show them, princess. Show them what a gorgeous girl you are when I make you cum. C’mon, show them how pretty my favorite star shines.”
“Josh, please,” you’re balanced upon the razor, praying to be sliced open and bared to him. It’s so close, but…
“Please what, princess?” He’s rocking his clothed cock against the swell of your ass from behind, fucking those perfect, insistent, fingers into you at a delicious clip, coaxing you nearer and nearer as you soak his skin and your thighs. “Tell me what you need. I’ll give it to you, baby, I’ll fucking give it to you. You know I will.”
Your fingernails want to bury into his flesh, but you’re careful not to leave marks. “I’m gonna cum…” it breathes out of you wildly, as an uncontrollable desperation steps in to steal your sense. “I’m gonna cum. Talk to me, Josh. Talk to me while I cum for you. I want your voice…talk me through it.”
A feral sound growls out of him, but it dissolves into something weak, as though he can’t handle you. “I’ll talk to you princess, don’t you worry that pretty fucking head. I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you. You feel that?”
He tightens his grip, holding you upright, and you fuck against his hand faster in reply, thrusting your hand back to bury into, and pull at, his curls “Yeah you do. My girl feels it. She knows. She knows I’ve got her, and she’s gonna cum pretty just for me, isn’t she?”
You explode into sensation in response. Sparks fly and batter themselves against your nerve endings as you coil up sung around his pumping fingers…pouring and dripping against his skin like warm, floral bath water.
“There you go, sweet girl…” he praises softly, in contrast with the relentless pace his hand is working away at you. “You let it all go, alright? Yes, baby, that’s it. That’s it. Let it out, princess, just for me, let it all out. good girl, fucking sing for me just like that.”
You’re wailing into the empty space, likely alerting anyone still wandering the halls, but you can’t hear yourself and he can’t be bothered to care.
His voice carries you through, groaning your praises as he ruts his aching cock against you, holding you fast and safe in his embrace until you fall limp, a rag doll with his blissful fingers still filling her throbbing cunt.
“That’s my girl, princess…” he kisses along the curve of your jaw, bringing you down gingerly. “So, so good. You’re an angel.”
Head now descending from the rumbling clouds of the storm he’s created, you realize suddenly what you’re faced with, “Josh, I was so loud…we have to go.”
“Not now,” he protests, languidly slipping his fingers in and out of you still.
“Yes, now.” Your thighs tighten, barring his movement, until he shakes out of his stupor.
“Okay, Okay…” he lowers your skirt and sucks his fingers into his mouth, licking you from his wrist and inner forearm as you begin yanking him towards the stage exit. “But I’m about to make sure the whole hotel knows how pretty you can sing, too, princess. You’re a star.”
Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @gretasmokerising @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordie-gvf-admin @calumspretty
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talia-the-gemini · 5 months ago
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ℭ𝔞𝔩𝔪 𝔟𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯m
𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚙𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎?
°•Prologue•°
Summary: After the near apocalypse in 2019, in a last stich effort to save the family Five blips all of you into the past, you and your siblings get teleported in between 1959 and 1963.
You were transported to February 1959.
You are the 8th Hargreeve member, your power is the ability to foresee the future (basically alice from twilight just better).
Paring: The swedes x reader poly
Word count:395 (very short ik T-T)
Warnings: None
Masterlist
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Flashback
On April the 1st, 2019, the earth was destroyed in a cataclysmic event. Billions of people were wiped out in a matter of minutes. Ironically, the seven survivors of the apocalypse were the very siblings who brought it on.
10:00 AM
LOCATION:UNKNOWN
DATE:UNKNOWN
Falling through Five’s big bright blue blip onto hard, solid concrete in an alleyway was not what you were expecting. Wincing from the impact, you look at the blip anticipating for your siblings to fall with you. “KLAUS,DIEGO?”
You call out desperately for your family but to no avail they don't respond. After a few seconds more, the gateway closes, leaving you without a way out or siblings. Shifting to stand you survey your surroundings.
“Fuck, where am I?” Stumbling down the alleyway. “Holy shit..” You stare in awe at the historic sight in front of you. Different colored Cadillacs, Plymouth Barracudas, and Ford Mustangs, People wearing old timey clothing, many shops and a few diners line the streets as well. Glancing to the left of yourself you notice a discarded magazine with the date ‘FEBUARY 2ND 1959’.
END OF FLASHBACK
That was almost four years ago, so far you’ve acquired a semi stable job, a decent sized but cozy house and the cutest house cat (a fluffy black cat named Cinder).
After four years of barely paying bills and living by yourself in a different timeline you decided to get a roommate, to maybe ease the loneliness and help around the house and with bills, so you come up with an amazing idea, why don't you put up and add for a room for rent? Honestly the best idea you’ve had for a long time.
8:00 AM
LOCATION: DALLAS, TEXAS
DATE:JANUARY 4TH 1962
It's early in the morning, a soft breeze ruffles the trees in the backyard. You simultaneously stir your tea as you're lost in thought as you stare out the kitchen window, Cider hops onto the bench, purring while rubbing his head on your arm.
‘Thump,Thump,Thump’ The sound of soft but heavy knocking breaks your train of thought “Coming!” you hastily make your way to your front door, peeking out the side window next to the door you notice three figures, most likely male by stature. Opening the door cautiously you look at the three blonde men in front of you. 
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urfavenarrator · 2 years ago
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hi hi could you please do top rick grimes x bottom male reader who has a praise kink?? If so, tysm!!
YeppI Didn't add build up but I hope you still like it
---Nights like These---
Your get on your shared, bed your ass in the air your face on a Semi-cool pillow. rick get behind you with a bottle of lube in hand, he drowns middle and ring fingers in it and pushes the in at the same time. "Christ, rick." you memmer, your face hard to read because you bit down on the pillow. "You alright baby?" He says kindly.
"Yeah 'm fine just wasn't expecting it" you relax and melt into his touch, he keeps prying around looking for your sweet spot. He leans over you, your backs now flush against his chest. "Yer doing so good" rick says and leans down to kiss your shoulder blade, it was nights like theses that you live where you could get a brake from the apocalypse and have a hour or two of mundane life, you rick, the kid off with gleen and Maggie.
A soft relaxed sigh leaves your mouth its cut off by your breath hitching when his fingers curl on your prostate "Mmm~" you hum and Bury your face in the pillow.
He curl and scissor his fingers til he thinks your ready "ready hun?" His voice soft and lazy "mhm" you hum in a lax tone, he pulls his fingers out and stokes himself a couple time making sure he's completely coate
You flip over to you back and watch him a soft smile appears on your face, how could it not, the prettiest guy you've hand the pleasure of dating is with you.
He lifts your legs arw wrapped around his wait and lines himself up, he moved slowly not wanting to hurt you; you both let out a small gasp when he bottoms out in you. He leaned down and kissed you
His thrusts aren't weak but arnts rough and rushed. He wasn't to make you feel special and that what he's gonna do. He angles himself so he can hit your prostate.
"Your so beautiful" he says before ruining you
"Mmm~ good boy" rick groans
You melt into a pile on the bed yous bodies hot and lightly coated in sweat, after a while of this blissful torture " 'm close" you pant softly, rick picks his pace up "be a good boy for me and come" 'good boy' run in your head on repeat for a bit, he know the power that names holds on you.
You drag him in for another long kiss, he comes inside you and you follow shortly after. The sound of skin on skin and panting slowly leave the room "think we're gonna need another shower" rick laughs, picking you up bridle style and bringing you to the bathroom, yeah nights like these were your favorites.
Sorry it's so short I didn't have a lot tj go off of and I didn't know what to do for it 😔 I'll probably rework this later
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illunicae · 7 months ago
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When the Light Goes Out
Was rewatching The Last of Us and got inspired so I wrote this in a single sitting. (Also found on Ao3)
Pairing: Rise Donatello x Female Reader
TWs: Semi-graphic description of wounds, Character death, Passive suicidal ideation, Loss of a child, The Kraang apocalypse, Mentions of past character deaths
Plot: The world broke when you were just a child, but you learned to survive and every day since has been a constant fight. Despite the hell outside your door, you found solace in your husband, Donatello, and you had a daughter a few years into the apocalypse. You did not like the world you brought your daughter into, but you promised her one day the war would end. But hope is a dimming candle, especially when you're losing family left and right: including your beloved Donatello. What more could you lose?
or
Sarah's death scene from The Last of Us, but with you and your daughter instead.
"Mom, will I ever see the stars?" 
You looked down at your young daughter, barely the age you were when the whole kraang apocalypse started. Lenore's eyes sparkled with curiosity, but you could see the small flash of doubt and sorrow that seemed to cling to your daughter these months of late. You cupped your daughter's green-scaled cheek in your palm, swiping your thumb across the purple spot on her cheekbone. "Oh, my sweet little light, that is why we fight this war. Because when we win, I will show you all the stars." 
Lenore didn't quite look convinced. 
"And my little light, it is so beautiful. There are more stars in the sky than you can count. And they shine so brightly that it's like the sun never set, lighting the world with a silver glow where shadows spill secrets and the world is at peace." You pulled Lenore closer, and you two touched your foreheads together in a silent expression of love. "I promise. At the end of this war, I will show you the stars and tell you all their names."
Lenore sank into your embrace, and the two of you sat together on your small bed, listening to the workings of the resistance around you. This was the world Lenore was born into—a world where you constantly had to fight to survive, where food seemed to always be on the verge of running out, where the sun burns red, and the moon drowns in dark clouds.
✧*
"Look out!" Leo shouted, and you were on the move instantly, trying to reach your daughter right as the blast struck the ground. Your feet left the ground as the explosion scorched the very air. You could hear your daughter scream as she hit the ground. Your body ached, your ears rang, and your head spun.
You groaned as you felt a spike of pain in your side. No doubt, something grazed you. You came to your senses just as a kraang hound loomed over you. Its maw was wide and dripping with bloody saliva; the low growl in its throat seemed to shake your bones as you groped around yourself for a weapon of any kind. Like a tightening spring, the beast moved, preparing for the kill. 
The singing of metal through flesh caused you to flinch slightly as the hound yelped a pitiful sound before slumping dead with a familiar katana through its skull. You could feel the relief wash over you as you glanced up at Leo; gratitude was on the tip of your tongue, but it died as Leo's horrified look swept over you to something beyond. 
"Oh, god." His voice was barely audible above the sounds of war around you, but you heard it, and the fear it brought struck you like the blade he wielded. You flipped over to see what caught Leo's attention. 
The battle continued around you, but all you could see was the limp form of your daughter, Lenore. The bright and brilliant little girl who was always smiling despite the hell that resided outside her window. The little girl you would tear the world apart for. 
"Lenore?" Your voice was soft as your vision spun; the blast had knocked you clear to the floor causing you to hit your head, but your focus was zeroed in on the rapid rising and falling of Lenore's chest. All other sounds fell away as Lenore's rapid panting echoed in your mind.  
As fear and a cold grip of dread crawled under your skin, you pulled yourself up, and only then did you see the blood slowly soaking the already red earth. Alarm bells rang, blaring in your mind as you scrambled forward. 
"No. No, no, no." Your knees dug into the soft ground as you crawled desperately. "No, no, no." Like a mantra, you repeated the single phrase over and over. 
Lenore had landed on her carapace with her gaze to the sky as her eyes glazed over unfocused. Her hand clutched her side, where blood was freely pouring from the wound in her plastron. The dark ground drank up her blood greedily as if it hadn't had enough already with everyone the resistance had lost. You wouldn't let your daughter's blood feed the soil as well; you couldn't bear to sink your daughter down into the infected dirt like so many family members before her: Splinter, Raph, Casey…him.
No, you would not lose your daughter, too. You couldn't: you were still healing.
"Let me see, baby. Let me see." You begged, fighting to keep the thick tears from clogging your throat and silencing your voice. 
Looking into your daughter's eyes bright with pain as she focused on you instead of the hellish sky, you gripped Lenore's hand. The warm blood glazing Lenore's skin swiftly coated your own palms as you moved the appendage. The sight that greeted you threw a bundle of barbed wire down your throat. There was a large gash in Lenore's side, along with a crack and hole in her plastron where a piece of shrapnel tore right through her muscle and shell. Blood poured freely from the wound as Lenore cried out. 
"Shh. Shh, you're okay." You placed your hand over the wound to apply pressure in a desperate attempt to stall the bleeding. "You're gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay, baby, I promise." The wound needed to be patched now, and you two couldn't stay there in the middle of the battlefield. 
You moved quickly as your heart hammered in your chest. You got your arm under Lenore's neck, but the movement jostled her, and Lenore cried out while attempting to fight you off, to push you away. 
"I know, baby. I know. I know. I know. I know." You kept pressure on the wound while trying to get your daughter into your arms. Lenore's arms flew up and latched onto your shoulder and your forearm. She cried out in pain as another movement jostled her. "I know it hurts, but we gotta get you back. We gotta get you home. I gotta get you up."
Lenore shook her head as tears flowed down the sides of her face. Her breathing was still sporadic and rapid as she cried.
"Momma."
"I know. I know. I know. I know. I know, baby." You could only keep pressure on the wound as you watched your daughter gasp for breath. "I know it hurts, but you're gonna be okay. Okay? You're gonna be okay." You threaded your arm around Lenore's shoulders and pulled her up. Lenore gasped and wheezed in pain while shaking her head. 
"I gotta get you home. I gotta get you home. I know, baby. I'm sorry." 
Lenore cried out again as you shifted to get her more in your lap. A small, bloodied hand left a trail on your cheek before Lenore grabbed around the back of your neck. Eyes screwed shut in pain, Lenore's breathing was getting faster and more shallow. "I know. I know. I know." Lenore whimpered.
"LEO, HELP ME!" You whipped your head up toward the slider standing a few feet away surrounded by more hound bodies. 
"(Y/n), we can't stay here." His voice was soft and heavy with an ugly mix of grief, pity, and authority.
Shaking your head, you pulled Lenore closer as her grip was becoming lighter and her breaths quieter. "Come on, baby girl." The limp arm fell off your shoulder. "Come on. I gotta get you home." You pulled your little girl closer to you and more fully into your lap. 
Lenore wasn't fighting anymore. 
"Come on, I gotta get you up. Lenore, we gotta go home." You held your daughter close as you cupped her cheek with your hand, only leaving a smear of blood along the skin that once seemed to glow with infectious joy. "Come on, baby. Come on. I–I can't–" Your breath wheezed out, a shaky exhale as hope dimmed in your heart in time with the light dimming from your little daughter's eyes. "I can't lose you too." Silent sobs shook your lungs as you clutched your daughter to your lap, blood soaking your shirt and cloak. 
"Oh, my little light." Your voice was soft and scratchy as the barbed wire in your throat tightened. Lenore's plastron dug into your skin as you hugged her tightly, but you didn't care. You held on, arms tight around Lenore's soft, leathery shell. Refusing to let go of your once shiny star, you began rocking back and forth as sobs were building in strength. 
Unfocused, dulled eyes stared at the sky above. No longer would they twinkle with mischief. No longer would they sparkle with that ravenous need to learn, much like her father. No longer would they shine against the dark, leading you to the hope against this never ending hellfire. 
The ground shook as the battle crescendoed. There were screams and shouts, gunfire and explosions: all of it white noise to your drowning heartbeat as you lowered Lenore slowly away from your chest. There was no movement from her body and no color in her skin. The overbearing urge to let a kraang find you and finish you off weighed down on your shoulders. Your whole fight, this whole resistance against the kraang, was for Lenore and children born into this unfair world. So that they may have a chance to see a world that is not torn apart by red skies and live a life that is not dictated by fear. 
Your fight was gone. Your reason was gone. 
What motive do you have now that your daughter will never see the end of this war? What could you possibly live for knowing that you'll never show your daughter the stars?
You gasped as a hand gripped your shoulder tightly, pulling you from the spiraling thoughts. You looked over your shoulder with unseeing eyes. Leo was shouting something, but you weren't hearing it. How could you over the rushing in your ears?
"(Y/n), we have to get out of here. You have to let her go." Leo's voice and the cacophony of battle rushed back to you in an overwhelming wave. Registering Leo's words, you shook your head, looking down at Lenore. Leo knelt down across from you and cupped your cheek with his palm, forcing you to look at him and not Lenore. "(Y/n), listen to me, she's gone. There's nothing we can do for her now."
A broken whine left your lips as you tried to look down again, but Leo wouldn't let you.
"I'm sorry, (Y/n)." He got to his feet and, in the same movement, lifted you from the ground, trapping you over his shoulder to take you out of the battlefield and back to base. 
"No. NO! Leo, let go. I need to bring her home. I have to bring her home! I can't leave her!" You screamed as you beat on the shell of your best friend. Leo just secured his grip on you while you thrashed.
"We have to go, (Y/n). If we stay here we'll die. I'm sorry." His voice was once again laden with a crushing mix of grief and authority. 
You fell semi-limp as you sobbed openly. You barely heard Mikey's or CJ's shocked voices as Leo called out the order to retreat. Deep down, you knew they'd be back to retrieve the dead once New York no longer feels like Hell-on-Earth, but you couldn't help but stare across the field at where your daughter lay, abandoned. You swore to protect her. You promised him she'd be safe. You failed. A once bright, shining star now lays dull and dark. 
A vibrant, beautiful light, now snuffed out.
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murdrdocs · 1 year ago
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5K/6K CELEBRATION
first of all, thank you for 5k and for 6k, so close together, too! it seriously means a lot. if you read for my blog, i want to also bring attention to other blogs and works that i like, and sometimes draw inspiration from! really work through this list and these blogs, show everyone here love !! xx
ꕥ represents no smut
ao3
mcu
: ̗̀➛ caroldantop's i could be your favorite girl
¡! ❞ wanda maximoff, babysitting, infidelity, milf!wanda
: ̗̀➛ talklokitome's the chase
¡! ❞ loki laufeyson, sex pollen, asgardian nature, hunter/prey, jotun heat
: ̗̀➛ endlessreverie's luck be a lady
¡! ❞ loki laufeyson, 1960s, vegas casino, loki is "some guy"
: ̗̀➛ con_fection's violence and intimacy are the only universal languages
¡! ❞ james "bucky" barnes, mean!bucky, so much just read it
: ̗̀➛ bellesque's sweet dreams
¡! ❞ loki laufeyson, incubus, creative sex, legit just read it
- ,,
star wars
: ̗̀➛ anon's this is where the fun begins
¡! ❞ anakin skywalker & obi wan kenobi, sharing is caring, voyeur anakin
: ̗̀➛ therealmaxrebo's a practical lesson in patience
¡! ❞ obi wan kebobi, some anakin akywalker, dom!obi wan
: ̗̀➛ laserbrain's exposure.
¡! ❞ anakin skywalker, public sex, possessive anakin
- ,,
detroit: become human
: ̗̀➛ precursor's deviant behavior
¡! ❞ connor, changed my entire life, one of my favorite fics of all time
: ̗̀➛ chaos_thirium's in dreams he came
¡! ❞ connor, incubus, monster fucking
- ,,
misc
: ̗̀➛ tinybluewitch's nothing's gonna hurt you baby
¡! ❞ carmen "carmy" berzatto, angst, slow burn, smut
: ̗̀➛ lettalady's a turn of the knife
I ¡! ❞ hugh "ransom" drysdale, very autumnal
: ̗̀➛ honeycombstrawberry's you are the only one
¡! ❞ adrian chase, fake/pretend relationship, haven't read yet tbh
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misc
: ̗̀➛ babbushka's poolside
¡! ❞ philip "flip" zimmerman, slightly public sex, protective husband flip
: ̗̀➛ hanasnx's final girl
¡! ❞ anakin skywalker, alternate universe, ghostface!anakin, murder
: ̗̀➛ matchmorphosis' hello, cowgirl
¡! ❞ carmen "carmy" berzatto, inspired me to get cowgirl boots
: ̗̀➛ carmybear's assembly required
¡! ❞ carmen "carmy" berzatto, established relationship, soft!carmy
: ̗̀➛ rassvetsky's carry you away with me
¡! ❞ carmen "carmy" berzatto, needy carmen >
: ̗̀➛ jangofctts's hot venom
¡! ❞ adrian chase, too much to mention, guided my adrian obsession
: ̗̀➛ love-toxin's shadysider sunshine
¡! ❞ tommy slater, one of my all time favorites, shower fucking, normal tommy
: ̗̀➛ keravnous' bathroom b!tch
¡! ❞ tangerine, bathroom sex, semi canon-complicit
nonpoppin's paul atreides works
¡! ❞ inspired me to write a 4k word essay about him
claireunoia's [8:00] mike wheeler
¡! ❞ mike wheeler, literally altered my brain chemistry
- ,,
mcu
: ̗̀➛ inklore's spectral tease
¡! ❞ druig, kept me afloat for months
: ̗̀➛ greenorangevioletgrass' only joy, only anguish
¡! ❞ druig, also kept me afloat for months
: ̗̀➛ silkscream's peter parker works
¡! ❞ just read them. all of them
- ,,
outer banks
: ̗̀➛ gxtitobxby's dark rafe blurb
¡! ❞ rafe cameron, changed my life, tw for dark!rafe and manipulation
: ̗̀➛ idcntlikedarkness's jj works ꕥ
¡! ❞ fueled my budding jj addiction, made me a jj lover, so srs
: ̗̀➛ folkloreslovechild's sweet nothing ꕥ
¡! ❞ soft!rafe cameron !!!, so so cute, literally my ideal scenario
: ̗̀➛ onsunnyside's innocent reader and jj
¡! ❞ jj maybank, drew inspiration from for 'teaching ethan how to kiss', love love love
: ̗̀➛ storiesbound's halley's comet
¡! ❞ rafe cameron, so super soft rafe, changed my life
: ̗̀➛ bettysupremacy's summer girl
¡! ❞ soft!rafe cameron prevails, channeling this when i go to isle of palms,
: ̗̀➛ forevermoreharrington's i looked at you like the stars that shine
¡! ❞ rafe cameron, love rafe begging for forgiveness,
- ,,
stranger things
: ̗̀➛ wtfsteveharrington's tequila & strawberry lip gloss + others
¡! ❞ robin buckley, steve harrington, smut with many feelings
: ̗̀➛ luveline's zombie apocalypse works ꕥ
¡! ❞ steve harrington, alternate universe, so cute
- ,,
scream
: ̗̀➛ slxsherr's feeling like i never should
¡! ❞ charlie walker, kirby reed, opened my eyes to charlie
: ̗̀➛ castieltrash's the devil has come home
¡! ❞ charlie walker, needy virg charlie>
: ̗̀➛ msgorrilagripcoohie's generous, tunnel vision, after hours
¡! ❞ chad meeks-martin, so chad the characterization is so good
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blogs
: ̗̀➛ @fleurfairie
: ̗̀➛ @arachine
: ̗̀➛ @idcntlikedarkness
: ̗̀➛ @forevermoreharrington
: ̗̀➛ @neo-novaa
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lords-of-mayhem · 6 months ago
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Lords Of Chaos Ships Playlist
A playlist of songs for various LOC ships. (Only one per ship this time <3)
Blackthorn x Varg // I Bet On Losing Dogs
I bet on losing dogs. I know they're losing and I pay for my place by the ring where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down. I'll be there on their side, I'm losing by their side.
Dead x Euronymous // Heaven Iowa
I've unspooled on the floor, I feel so A Star Is Born. Kiss my cheek, baby, please. Would you read my eulogy? I will never ask you for anything except to dream sweet of me.
Tell me when the party ends, will you still love who I am? Scar crossed lovers, forever. I'm checking myself out forever. Save your breath, half your life you've been hooked on death.
Faust x Varg // Cigarette Daydreams
Did you stand there all alone? Oh, I cannot explain what's going down. You sigh, look away. I can see it clear as day. Close your eyes, so afraid, hide behind that baby face.
Funny how it seems like yesterday. As I recall, you were looking out of place. Cigarette daydream, you were only seventeen. Soft speak with a mean streak, nearly brought me to my knees.
Dead x Euronymous x Hellhammer x Necrobutcher // Remember When
You were the first, so was I. Made love and then you cried, remember when? We lived and learned, life threw curves. There was joy and there was hurt. Life was changed, disassembled, rearranged. We came together, fell apart, and broke each other's hearts.
Faust x Occultus // Francesca
Do you think I'd give up, that this might've shook the love from me? How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily? If someone asked me at the end, I'd tell them put me back in.
I would do it again. If I could hold you for a minute, darling, I'd do it again. I could find you, darling, in any life.
Euronymous x Varg // Hum Hallelujah
I thought I loved you, it was just how you looked in the light. A teenage vow in a parking lot, 'til tonight do us part. I sing the blues and swallow them too.
My words are my faith, to hell with our good name. Remix of your guts, your insides x-rayed. And one day, we'll get nostalgic for disaster.
Blackthorn x Faust // We Fell In Love In October
Smoking cigarettes on the roof, you look so pretty and I love this view. We fell in love in October, that's why I love fall. Looking at the stars, admiring from afar.
Faust x Fenriz // Disloyal Order Of Water Buffaloes
Doc, that's a hole where something was. Put him in the back of a squad car, restrain that man. He needs his head put in a CAT scan. Oh, I'm a loose bolt of a complete machine.
What a match, I'm half-doomed and you're semi-sweet. Imperfect boys with their perfect ploys, nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy.
Metalion x Ann-Marit // Apocalypse
You leapt from crumbling bridges, watching cityscapes turn to dust. Filming helicopters in the ocean from way above. Got the music in you, baby. Kisses on the foreheads of lovers, wrapped in your arms.
You've been hiding them in hollowed out pianos, left in the dark. Sharing all your secrets with each other since you were kids. Sleeping soundly with the locket that she gave you clutched in your fist.
Euronymous x Faust x Varg // I Love You Like An Alcoholic
Cast that first glance. Your smile, my veins at maximum capacity, blood pumping so fast. My girl, if looks gave heart attacks. Some handsome dark stranger, you were standing there on the corner.
Kissed that first night and then the rain opened up the sky. You had those compelling magnetized eyes you must've lost when you got older. You laughed, but seemed a little sad. One last kiss, I love you like an alcoholic.
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cillivnz · 2 years ago
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cherry [murphy macmanus]
PAIRING — MURPHY MACMANUS 𝘹 F!𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙
WORD COUNT — 2181
WARNINGS — smoker!reader, cat-calling, mentions of threesome (we love connor boy), semi-public sex, cunnilingus, tongue-fucking, fingering.
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You worked night shifts at McGinty's when cash was tight. Though, Doc would lose his wits, cursing and screaming, "Fuck," when you'd escape your shift to fool around with customers, the old man appreciated your help.
Friday night was rowdy, but nothing you hadn't dealt with before. Except, it was St. Patrick's week, and the Irish were in the mood to party like apocalypse was upon them. Entering the pub a while before "Happy Hour" you made your way towards the bar and hung your coat on an idle rack nearby.
You breathed a breath of relief once the damned cloth clinging to your body was removed. Your black shirt had a considerably low-cut, and you could see sweat forming in the v-neck.
You ached to let loose before, possibly, your longest shift of the week, but to no avail, Doc wouldn't hear anything of it. He "confiscated" your pack of cigarettes like the father figure he became for you, and reminded you of your job.
Sighing, you began placing liquor on the glass table, until hearty laughs and rowdy cheers distracted you.
"They're early," you thought, paying no further heed.
You turned your back towards the entrance and began shuffling through the bottles of alcohol displayed. You heard ruffling behind you, shortly. People getting comfortable in their seats, you assumed.
Turning around, your eyes met with a pair you hadn't seen before.
Blue hues drowned your own in tidal waves that exuded out of him. He met your gaze and held it — amusingly anticipating your reactions.
"Where the fuck's your drinks? Don't tell me youse two are goin' sober?" 'Rocco' as you heard another man call him a few times, broke your enchantment and you began taking orders.
"Whiskey, neat— no, make that Guinness." The man beside your enchanter spoke. You noticed their resemblance; he was attractive, that was beyond doubt, but no one compared to the stranger in front of you.
"Comin' up." You began pouring drinks while the men chattered among themselves.
Everything was going smooth; even your urge to leave had subsided. Something about tonight made you never want to take breaks between shifts again, if it meant you could have him around to serve.
Everything was going smooth until a certain request.
"Could we get any cherries in here?" You hear a call towards your side. Turning around, you snickered at the request. "I'm being serious, love." He pleaded, "Ye can't blame a lad for wanting something sweet in his mouth, yeah?" He smirked, his last few words deeply amused the men beside him.
You sigh and begin looking around; Doc placed them at the bottom of the shelf. You groaned as you bend down to grab them. Your black jeans, stretched, seemed to have attracted the attention of the men behind you.
It seems the thing that piqued their interest the most tonight was you, down low. You chuckled at the whistles— you didn't mind it, but you did grow conscious as the man you admired was directly behind you.
"Finally." You groan as you pull them out and turned to him. "Uh-uh," he stopped you before you placed them down. He moved closer to where the cherries swung in the air, which you subconsciously did to prove your victory in finding them in the oddest of places. He leaned over the table and reached for the fruit. Your breath hitched when he wet his pink lips before they came in contact with a plump, deliciously crimson one.
His eyes stared right into yours as the world seemed to slow down. His teeth closed in on it and bit it off the stem. You whimpered softly. That was, singularly, the sexiest thing you had ever seen. He winked shamelessly, before moaning, "Delicious" under his breath, soft enough only for you to hear.
Saving you from embarrassment, Doc walked over to your side and inquired how the hell did you manage to suppress the urge to leave your shift? Interrupting him, your new favourite voice began, "Forgive me, Doc. But I'll be needing your gorgeous bartender to myself for a while." He looked at him and winked.
You felt a blush creep in.
"Of-fucking-course you fucking need her. She can't fucking finish her shift without fucking breaks." He stammered out, but let you leave, anyway.
The Irish Devil then whispered something to the man beside him; who you were admiring a few minutes ago, was smirking at you while fidgeting with the inked skin on his hand. "Save me some," was all you could make out from the conversation, which was followed by him receiving a playful blow on the shoulder by the man who needed you.
"C'mon, cherry." He looked up at you and gestured for you to follow him.
Fuck.
"My name's Murphy." He told you as you walked towards the bathroom. "I'm—" "Cherry." He put a finger on your lips, both of you had your eyes fixated on it. "You're my cherry tonight," His finger caressed across your upper lip. "Aren't you my cherry?" He finally inquired, his thumb was now playing with your lower lip.
"Y-yes." You managed to whisper as he backed you against a bathroom stall. "Good girl." He praised before bringing his lips to yours and kissing you passionately. You fervently kissed him back, his tongue licked across your bottom lip, begging for entrance you gladly granted. He moaned as soon as your tongues came in contact with one another and moved rhythmically. The taste of cherries and Guinness on his tongue mixed with the aftertaste of a cigarette you smoked a while before was utterly delicious to you.
You tugged at his shirt, making your impatience aware. This caused him to chuckle deeply, and you felt like your knees were going to give up any minute. He grabbed you by the hem of your shirt and took it off of you. "I've been wanting to do that since the minute I laid eyes on you," He groaned, reaching for your jeans, next. Leaving you in your lingerie, he began undressing.
You were having the time of your life just staring at this man. Each and every move he made was so graceful, you could watch him simply move his hands around and feel aroused at the mere sight. When he finished, you were welcomed by the sight of him only in his boxers. God, you couldn't believe your eyes. Was this real? You often thought while he was thinking the same.
Murphy hadn't come across a girl as beautiful as you. He'd seen you a couple times before while drinking with Connor, but you never stuck around for him to truly get a glimpse of just how incredibly gorgeous you are. St. Patty's really is his lucky day.
He grabbed you by the arm and turned you around, swiftly, your face pressed against the door of the stall. You could feel his fingertips grazing your back, your hips, and now your breasts. He unhooked your bra, and turned you as you were previously.
If it was any other man, you would've remained confident and taken the lead, but with Murphy MacManus? No, you were flushed with your state.
Noticing your embarrassment, Murphy stopped you from hiding your breasts, "Don't be shy, now, love." "You're fucking beautiful, cherry." He caressed your cheek. "May I?" He asked, bending lower — just above your chest. You nodded eagerly, earning not a smirk, but a smile from Murphy.
He hovered above your bud, and just as his lips grazed it, he looked up at you while opening his mouth. The world slowed, yet again, as Murphy MacManus began kissing and sucking on your breast leisurely, while kneading the other with care. You moaned, his clothed cock throbbed at the sound. Switching the treatment on the breasts, he finally let go of you when he was satisfied with the lovebites he left on your skin. He grabbed your face towards him and kissed you passionately.
You could die a happy woman drowning in the oceans of Murphy MacManus. Whatever it is that you felt for him; lust, pure lust, turned out to be the strongest emotion you've ever felt. He pulled away from you and reached for your lace panties, ripping them away. Cold air hit you instantly and in your vulnerable state, you inhaled sharply at the feeling.
"Fuck."
Murphy groaned at the sight of your pussy. He immediately brought his face closer to your heat, and like a man starved, began lapping at your wetness. He relished in the taste of you, and began devouring your clit. His tongue wrapped around your swollen bud before he began sucking on it wholly. "Fucking hell, Murphy." You moaned out.
He smirked against your slit before pulling his face away. You whimpered at the loss of contact but were rewarded by him soon enough. When he brought his digits to where your mouth was, you understood just what was about to happen. Biting your lip before allowing him entrance, you began sucking diligently on his fingers, giving him a vivid idea of what that pretty mouth of yours could do.
His mouth agape, he wanted nothing more in this moment than to shove you down and have you take his cock down your throat, but no. You deserved pleasure before him, he thought to himself, constraining the urge to be selfish.
His fingers left your mouth with a 'pop' sound, and traced every voluptuous curve on your body, until he finally reached your slit and gave you what you so desperately needed the minute you saw him.
His fingers separated your lips, and he eased his middle finger in, inserting it completely to the hilt. He looked up at you, and the look on your face; one of pure ecstasy, urged him to continue.
He pulled his finger out, and shoved back in repeatedly, until you were ready to take another. Murphy took no time in inserting his middle and ring finger inside you, smirking at your lewd state. His mouth latched onto your clit which lead to him licking and sucking on it. He'd occasionally kiss your swollen bud which throbbed with sensitivity.
Your state amused him incredibly. The confident and sexy bartender at McGinty's was under Murphy MacManus, squirming in pleasure with her plump lips wet, furrowed brows, and radiant eyes shut tightly.
"You're a work of art, Cherry." He whispered against your thighs, looking directly in your soul.
Murphy heard your breath hitch, and knew you were close. He pumped his fingers faster and sucked on your clit with all his might. You cursed, trembled and shivered against him. Mewling, you begged him to keep going. He fingered you at an inhuman speed; your eyes rolled back, your back arched and your breasts bounced with the increasing speed pumping inside of you.
You didn't have time to comprehend let alone tell Murphy you're cuming, before you squirted all over him. He let out a hearty chuckle, flushed with embarrassment, you turned to look away but Murphy grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look down, at him. "Eyes on me, Cherry." He ordered, and you followed. Once again, his fingers impaled you, while his tattooed hand placed on your inner thigh firmly prevented you from moving too much. It seemed your squirming disturbed him from enjoying you in your most vulnerable state; so lewd, so beautiful.
He began nibbling on your clit, and you screamed his name loud enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear. You weren't sure how, but it seemed you were already close to your high, again. Just when you thought you were gonna drown in your own wetness once again, yelling and grunting interrupted your session.
Murphy knew what was going on, and that his brother needed him, but he just couldn't pull away from you. Instead, he picked up the pace, of both his fingers and his tongue that lapped at your clit.
You let out a string of curses as a moan, and screamed as you released for the second time tonight. Murphy pulled out his fingers and slipped his tongue in between your orgasm, which sent you over the edge. He tongue-fucked you through your climax and licked your juices clean.
After eating you out to both of your satisfactions, he kissed you fervently one last time. He left a series of love-bites on your neck and the valley of your breasts, making his way up to your ear between wet kisses and whispering, "Consider this something to remember me by."
When he was finished dressing, he kissed your forehead, and made his way out of the bathroom.
"We aren't finished, you and I." He turned to say to you. "You know I'll be waiting for you." You winked.
"Ah, my Cherry, I'll come soon."
"There's no way I can stay away from a pretty face like yours that long."
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pt. II. main masterlist. more of ‘the boondock saints’.
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soulofapatrick · 2 years ago
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Fighting to Survive - Joel Miller x Reader
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Summary: You get dangerously hurt on patrol and things are said in your state of semi conscious, what happened when you wake a few days later barely escaping death?
Words: 2.8k
Warnings: Blood and gore; near death; bruising
Y/N’s POV
I’m struggling to stay conscious as Dina’s half dragging me towards the gates, Jackson is only minutes away and looming into view but my legs feel heavy and the blood is still seeping past mine and Dina’s fingers as we hold her balled up hoodie to the gaping wound. The hoodie is already drenched and Dina’s yelling but it sounds far away, getting harder to keep my eyes open and continue walking, one of my legs giving out and we’re stumbling, almost falling which makes Dina cry out in frustration and anguish. 
“Come on! We are almost there!” Dina’s growling out and I try to make a witty response but my vision is getting hazy, “For fucks sake Y/N! Joel is waiting for you beyond those gates and you are going to tell him how much you fucking love him!” There’s a sting across my cheek and Dina is pulling me back up from my knees and I can hear the grinding of the gates a few steps later. 
I can see the blur of figures rushing towards us but my mind is struggling to focus, everyone blurring into each other and everything feels so distant and surreal. The pain in my side now almost unbearable and I can feel myself slipping away, consciousness beginning to fade into nothingness as I’m falling. Then, strong arms are wrapping around me, catching me under my legs and behind my back and I’m being pulled into a strong chest, the soft breeze ghosting over my face as words rumble from my saviour’s chest. I’m prying my heavy eyes open to see Joel, weatherworn face full of panic and fear as he’s practically running us somewhere and I can’t help but notice how pretty he is. My hand makes it’s way up to cup his cheek, feeling the roughness of his salt and pepper beard beneath my palm and his honey eyes flick down to mine. 
“Dina…” I try to speak, feeling a metallic tang in my throat as he hushes me gently, “You,” I tap his cheek as he begins to fade from my vision and my body gets heavy, “You, I love.” As the words leave my lips, my vision blurs and my body goes limp. The pain in my side fading away, replaced with a weightlessness as I pass out, the last thing I feel is my head falling back. 
*
I’m momentarily blinded by the brightness of the room when my eyes flutter open, the harsh florescent lights overhead making my head throb and I have to squint to adjust to the sudden brightness. My vision clears after a few more blinks and I take in my surrounds. I’m lying in a hospital bed, the sheets as crisp and white as possible in a post apocalypse world and the room is small and sterile, a window overlooking Jackson outside. I’m turning my head to the side to see Joel, he’s curled up uncomfortably in a chair next to my bed, fast asleep. 
He looks so young, his rugged and weathered appearance having been softened by his time in Jackson and despite his muscular build and broad shoulders, he seems peaceful and almost vulnerable in his sleep. His salt and peppered hair falling over his eyes, beard framing his face and adding a sense of warmth to his tanned features, drawing out the very faint freckles scattered over his nose. He’s in his usual attire: plaid shirt, jean and boots and his jacket is being used a pillow. I want to reach out for him but I can’t remember what happened before I passed out, I know I said something to him and feeling his heart increase against me but I can’t remember what I said exactly. 
My throat is dry and scratchy when I try to make a sound, nothing coming out except there’s a dull ache throughout my body, aggravated by moving my mouth. I try to sit up anyway but a sharp pain stops me, making me whimper in pain and shove the blankets off of me to see a bandage covering the gaping wound, spots of blood on it and it’s tender to touch when I ghost my fingers over it. It’s like the sight of the injury makes all the pain come flooding in and I’m crying out softly, causing Joel to jolt awake. 
His eyes widen in alarm as he seems me awake and leaning on my elbows as I’m finally registering my other injuries, the expanse of my stomach and hips are a galaxy of greens, blues, reds and purples and I’m guessing my face and legs are going to be very similar with a few more bandages dotted over me. I’m only in a pair of thin shorts that look like they could be Dina’s and my sports bra as Joel gets up from the chair, his movements sluggish from sleeping in an uncomfortable position. He’s at my side, calloused hand cupping my jaw as he sits on the edge of the bed, rough pad of his thumb soothing over my cheek as his eyes flick all over my face.
“Let me get Tommy.” His voice is deep and gruff, filled with concern and worry, “He’s been keeping an eye on you, he’s the one who patched you up darlin’.” I can only nod weakly, unable to speak as my throat still feels to tight and raw to form words. Joel gets up and heads to the door, pausing before he opens it and looks back at me, “I’m glad you’re awake.” He says softly before stepping out of the room. 
I’m sinking back into the pillows, my body feeling heavy and drained. The memories of the attack come rushing back and tears are welling up in my eyes as the fear and pain becomes almost overwhelming and I’m slamming my eyes shut, taking a deep breath. It does calm me down a little but then I remember what I said to Joel as he took me from Dina and carried me to the hospital. I’m flushing with embarrassment, did I really tell Joel I loved him? Was it just the pain and fear talking? Was it because of what Dina said when she slapped me to stay awake? 
Before I can dwell on my thoughts any longer the door open and both Miller brothers are stepping in, Tommy carrying a try of food and water for me. He places it on the table by the bed before he and Joel help me move myself into a sitting position, the younger speaking with a cheeky grin, “Well, look who finally decided to join us! How are you feeling kiddo?” 
I try and smile weakly, grateful for his light tone and teasing demeanour as I grab the water from the tray and down it as fast as I can, not caring if I end throwing it back up as it feels like my throat is filled with sawdust. 
“I’ll take that as thirsty.” Tommy laughs softly as Joel moves to sit back in the chair beside my bed, eyes still watching me with concern and like I’ll disappear if he looks away.
“You gave us quite a scare there,” He murmurs, leaning forwards and capturing my hand in both of his, “But Tommy did a damn good job with those stitches. You'll be as good as new in no time.”
Tommy begins moving around the room, grabbing things he needs before he’s standing on my left side where the bandages are. He begins to change them, a wave of dizziness hitting me when I finally catch a glance at the stitched up hole in my side. The wound is now closed but it’s a gruesome sight and I can’t help but grip Joel’s hand tightly, feeling the rough pad of his thumb rub soothing circles over the back of my hand. The pain is still present but it has become a dull ache compared to what it was before, realising Tommy’s put some sort of numbing cream on it and I want to cry. 
He’s so gentle but firm as he words on changing the bandages. His experienced hands move quickly and efficiently and I can’t help but feel grateful he’s here, knowing I owe him everything as he saved my life. He seems to sense my feelings, sending me a soft smile and squeezing my shoulder lightly when he finishes, speaking in a reassuring tone, “You’re healing up just fine.” 
I just nod, still feeling a little overwhelmed. It’s hard to believe I’ve been out for a few days. It’s like as I look between Joel and Tommy’s faces the reality of what happened really hits me and it hits me hard, tears prickling the corners of my eyes. Tommy’s bidding his goodbyes, saying he’ll be back soon with more water for me but I barely hear him because Joel’s by my side again and his hand is squeezing mine. I’m taking a deep breath before mumbling out a question that I need to know the answer to, “I-I was serious when I… what I said when I passed out.” 
His honey eyes light up with something akin to disbelief mixed with relief and a hint of amusement as he leans in closer, his hand slowly moving to my face again, brushing my hair from my face. 
“I know sweet girl,” He says softly, voice filled with so much love and tenderness that it almost makes me forget the pain and fear I’ve been feeling, “I love you too. More than anything.” 
He leans in even closer, lips brushing against mine in the gentlest of kisses. It’s like he’s trying to convert everything he feels fro me through this one kiss, all of the love and the care and the worry and the relief. It’s overwhelming but in the best way possible as his lips move against mine and I can feel my heart racing in my chest. It’s not just the pain I feel all over my body but also the love and tenderness that’s expressing in the kiss, his hands gently cupping my face and I can feel his breath mingling with mine as he deepens the kiss. 
It’s like time has slowed down and the only thing that matters in Joel’s lips on mine, his warmth and his love and the way he makes me feel. I can’t help myself when I ball my fists in his plaid shirt and yank, unbalancing him but he steadies himself, a light rumble in his chest as he gets the hint, moving himself over me so his hips are flush against mine and he’s hovering above me. I think my heart tries to burst as I realise just how much Joel cares for me as he makes sure not to put any of his weight on my battered and bruised body. He’s resting on his forearm next to my head and I feel like I might cry at it, feeling how gentle and considerate he’s being with me despite both of us wanting this. 
A soft moan slips from my cracked lips as he moves his lips from my mouth to my neck and trailing hot kisses along my skin, my fingers moving to tangle in his hair. He’s always known just how to make me feel so loved, even if neither of us realised it, how to ease my worries and calm my fears. In this moment, with him holding me oh so carefully, I feel like nothing else matters. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so loved and cherished before, the outbreak stopping me from having any romantically meaningful relationship but I don’t care as it’s Joel I want. Just Joel. 
“Thank you.” I whisper, voice still rough and scratchy, as he pulls back enough to meet my gaze. Love and devotion filling the honey colour and I know I’m safe in his arms. He smiles down at me, rough pads of his fingers brushing the hair from my face again before he’s gripping my chin between his thumb and forefinger. 
He surges down to capture my lips in another kiss, this one not a gentle but he’s still being wary of my body and how injured I am. The kiss deepens quickly and becomes more urgent, passion building between us as Joel’s hands start to carefully roan my body. I’m letting out a soft sound into his mouths arching up into him despite the pain in my side, needing to feeling him everywhere. It’s like we’re trying to erase the memories of the attack and the pain that came from it. His tongue traces the seam of my lips, seeking entrance and I eagerly grant it. Our tongues tangling together, hot and wet, as we explore each other’s mouths. I can feel his hardness pressing against my hip and it only spurs me on, my own desire building in response as I tug at his salt and pepper hair, drawing a deep rumble from his chest. 
We don’t hear the door opening again until there’s a clearing of someones throat and Joel is groaning, letting his head fall into the crook of my neck in a mixture of frustration at being cockblocked and embarrassment at Tommy’s shit eating grin at catching his older brother getting some action. 
“Sorry to interrupt lovebirds,” Tommy’s practically giggling like a child, shaking his head at the two of us, “Do I have to remind you that Y/N could have guests any minute and that you,” He points at Joel, “Should not be on top of her at the moment.” 
Joel pulls away with a defeated sigh, moving his body so he’s beside me instead, keeping me in his arms protectively. The heat rises to my cheeks as I try to compose myself, suddenly aware of my disheveled appearance and the fact that I am practically naked in shorts and a sports bra. 
“I brought you some more water and some pain meds.” Tommy is handing me the three small pills before pouring me another glass of water before pushing it into my hands. He stands with his hands on his hips as he waits to make sure I’ve swallowed the pills before he’s sniggering lightest again. 
“Thank you Tommy.” I say, feeling so grateful for Tommy’s kindness despite the awkwardness of this situation. He just nods, turning to leave the room still wearing that stupid shit eating grin and I’m flushing even redder with the close of the door behind the younger Miller. 
Joel’s turning my face to his, a soft smile gracing his features and he’s brushing his thumb over my cheek as he speaks, “I’m sorry about that sweet girl,” His voice is low and apologetic, “I didn’t mean to get so carried away.”
I just shake my head, feeling a little shy but also happy that he wants me the same way I want him. "It's okay," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper, "I kind of liked it." 
Joel grins, leaning in to give me a quick but searing kiss before he unwinds himself from my side to settle back in the chair, a sense of relief washing over me. Being in his presence makes everything feel a little less overwhelming and a little less scary. I can feel his eyes on me even though mine are slipping shut and it’s comforting to know he’s there, especially when his calloused hand slips into mine again and he’s speaking softly, "You rest now. I’ll be here when you wake up." 
The memory of the kiss still lingers in my mind, making my heart skip a beat or two as it's not just the physical sensation of the kiss itself, but the emotion behind it. Joel's love and devotion are palpable, and I can feel it in every touch and every word. I’m drifting off to sleep with a sense of gratitude for having Joel in my life. He's been by my side through this terrifying experience, and I know that he'll continue to be there for me no matter what. With him by my side, I feel like I can face anything that comes my way.
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The Last of Us Masterlist
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vshushmshu · 1 year ago
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live wires
your body ached.
laying in a bunk secluded from the rest of the camp, you sighed and rubbed your bleary eyes, trying to exhume any amount of willpower from within you to get up. you had learned to sleep on your stomach after the incident, not able to trust yourself not get semi-paralyzed again. your back hurt though, nerves on fire and yet so numb, and you could really use… something. anything, really, that would make the pain go away, even for just a little while.
there were probably a handful of pain killers left over in storage somewhere but… you figured any of the freshly injured and sick needed that more than you did. so you lay there trying not to writhe in agony, because that would only worsen said agony, until it faded to something duller and easier to ignore. you huffed, hoisting yourself into a sitting position and turning a blind eye to the tremors in your arms, trying to stretch the stiff muscles in your back. that effort quickly made it worse, though, so you bit back a pathetic whimper and sat still while trying to calm your breathing.
every time you thought you were getting better, the damaged nerves in your back liked to remind you that they were still there, impeding your ability to fight or even do menial tasks. such as right now; up in the middle of the night, and you weren’t even able to get some tea to help you sleep. everyone else seemed to be asleep, judging by the silence outside your shoebox of a pre-assigned room. you wondered if you could try to power through, make it to the common area to get something going for yourself.
an attempt at standing, and you stumbled halfway over to the door until there was another protest of your body. now, you sat in the middle of the room, silently cursing your feeble form while also thankful that you hadn’t landed on your back. didn’t want everything to seize up again, you grumbled to yourself internally. you would never regret what you did to cause this injury that kept you half crippled, though maybe you lamented the circumstances every now and then.
it was only fair to be able to mope, considering you were in the middle of a literal apocalypse. as mikey had said to you once, trying to ignore everything and force yourself to be upbeat would most definitely be more detrimental to you than being sad every now and then. albeit, you wished the sadness wasn’t always as ever-present as it was, but it was what it was. as long as you could protect what was left of what you love, you’d bear the burn seeping into your spine.
cliché, maybe even cringe, but you did very much care. you weren’t sure of how long you had spent swallowing down pain curled up on the hard floor, but eventually you heard footsteps. they weren’t ones that caused you any real alarm, however, since you had already memorized these to the best of your ability. they were trying not to be too conspicuous, carefully making their way over to your closed door.
you couldn’t help but smile a little when you heard him fiddle with the doorknob, frustrated whispers about how “doorknobs weren’t even needed, who invented doorknobs???” before it clicked open.
a green hand darted out to avoid the door creaking too loudly, slowly but surely cracking it wider until a sheepish red eared slider came into view. you always had to crane your head up to look at him now, your neck missing when the pair of you were around the same height in the past (he would always get pissy when you pointed out he was shorter than you, so you gave in to his delusions); though, you had to even more so now, considering you had been sat on the floor for a considerably considerable amount of time, “what’s good, blue?”
you heard a small laugh, which made your strained grin brighten a little more, and the turtle made his way in the room with a soft click of the door closing behind him, “not much, figured i’d give my favorite a visit.”
with a dramatic gasp, you propped a damning twitchy hand up to your forehead, “me?? your favorite?? how scandalous! you would think the resistance leader would have no reservations considering the amount of people that look up to him, yet here we are!!”
he squinted at you, setting a steaming mug in his hands (that you hadn’t noticed up until now) down at a nearby desk, and you knew you weren’t gonna get off that easy, “yeah, mhm.. why are you on the floor?”
the corners of his mouth quirked up at your very visible cringe, and your trembling hand fell to the nape of your neck while you smiled with the same level of sheepishness he had when he first entered, trying not to shrug as you rubbed a particularly achey spot jerkily, “what can i say? the floor is pretty comfy. ten out of ten, solid floor.”
he hummed, already crouching down to scoop you up with little difficulty, avoiding known tender spots as he walked you back over to your bed, “same old, huh?”
you huffed at being returned to the starting point of your venture, trying not to rest your head on his oversized prosthetic and letting your hand fall to your lap, it thanking you by lessening the searing pain that shot through you at every flex, “same old.”
the slider rested you down on your bed carefully, giving you his best empathetic smile while reaching over to the mug he brought, and brandishing it to you with a small “ta-daa!!” you laughed a little, eyes crinkling while you took the mug from his hands, catching a whiff of the tea within, “all for little ol’ me? fetched in the dead of night? aw, seems like someone has a little crushhh!”
leo gave you a deadpan look, biting back a snappy remark as he pushed the bottom of the mug up to your lips with a not-so rare silence, and you rolled your eyes at the fact he didn’t humor you this time. he had a smile on his face when you opened your eyes after your sip though, which made you in turn, flash one of your own. they were infectious, after all. you finished off maybe half the mug with him in a nice quiet when he tapped your knee, making you look up at him again, “i have a surprise for you.”
you cocked your head at him, setting the mug down between you two so that your arms stopped with their tremors, “now a surprise? jeez, am i lucky, or what?”
he grinned, but it was dampened around the edges from how excruciatingly tired he seemed to be tonight, almost every night, “hmm, i guess so. now, close your eyes and say “ahh”!”
doing as told, albeit with an attempted saucy wiggle of your eyebrows that he snickered at, you felt the side of your head being held by his over-sized hand. with the good one, he popped a pill into your mouth, and you instantly tried to recoil, holding back the urge to spit it out. the staleness of the little pill registered to your tastebuds, and your eyes flew open to glare at the slider, who still had the hold on you that had prevented you from shimmying away, “wh- leo! the pain meds are for the new recruits, the severely sick and injured?? why would you-“
the turtle’s face was a sight, definitely up there in the list of times leo was the most exasperated with someone as he pinched your cheek, “why wouldn’t i? do you even remember what just happened?? hell, sometimes you can’t even make it out bed without it hurting! you’re severely injured too, idiot, you need the meds as much as anybody!”
your mug was mighty interesting, and you sloshed around the liquid in it minutely before you took another sip, washing down the powdery taste with a grimace while you mumbled a complaint about your cheek hurting. leo seemed satisfied from that though, letting out a heavy sigh that made you grateful you actually swallowed the pill, and didn’t just hide it under your tongue till later in your stubbornness. he ran his good hand over his face, dropping the other holding yours after smoothing down a stray hair and patting your cheek in silent apology, and you didn’t miss how tense his shoulders still were, “…how long have you had that arm on?”
the red eared slider had been defeated, but he still sent a mildly sour look your way, “why do you deflect?”
you could laugh again, the burning coursing through your live wires of nerves beginning to numb just a bit from the medicine, and you took another shaky sip, “i dunno, why do you deflect?”
leo grumbled, “that proves literally no point you could possibly be trying to make.”
a wiggle of your eyebrows again, “how ‘bout you point at deez nuts?”
there was a moment of silence. then a strangled bark of laughter from leo, and you both devolved into chortles, knowing the joke was too dumb to be giggling at. you tried to catch your breath, clutching the mug to make sure it didn’t shatter upon contact the floor, while the turtle collected himself against the wall. he wiped at his eyes, and you let out a debilitating snicker despite needing air, “wh- are you crying?! it was a cock and balls joke! it doesn’t deserve tears!”
he wheezed, and you crumpled against him, both your shoulders shaking, “then d-don’t call it a cock an-and balls joke??? i’m-“
you signed a time-out playfully, lightly punching at his good shoulder with a fat smile and heaving breaths, “shhhh! i said w-what i said!”
he shook his head, and you both eventually came down from your testicle-induced high, the comfortable silence being broken by little giggles every now and then. you eventually got him to take his prosthetic off for a while, on the promise that you would do your best to rest through the night. the mug was put to the side on the table, as well as the slider’s arm, which he somehow fit onto the surface of said table. like that, you exchanged stories of your days while sitting on the bed, all the while grumbling over how you couldn’t hop up to grab ice or a hot pack for leo’s shoulder.
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sunflowersoldat · 2 years ago
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Pt. 1 Sunshine
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Task Force 141 x Fem!Reader(s)
Series summary: Imagine living in the modern world, your nightmares are only figments of folklore. Werewolves & Vampires don’t exist. Neither do flesh eating Ghouls, Elves or Spirits, Magic? Yeah that's impossible, a distant what-if… 
Only it’s not.
This is a mature fantasy series with 18+ themes, along with horror aspects, violence, light gore, & smut. We follow two friends(two readers) Sunshine and Terror in their fight to survive in this new reality.
Chapter Warnings: mild language, semi-apocalyptic world setting.
Word Count: 1030
A/N: This is a dual reader fic, we will have two readers. I am so excited for this series, and have so many plans! I hope ya'll enjoy, feedback is always appreciated, even if its just you telling me your favorite part! 💕
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Sunshine–
The late afternoon sun is warm on your face and arms as you pick another dandelion bloom from the ground, running its soft yellow petals between your fingers. You pluck them from the flower head, humming as they float into the wind. 
Tilting your head to the side, Terror lays on the grass beside you, her arms folded behind her head, eyes blissfully closed as she soaks up the sun’s rays. Her breathing is slow and even, in moments like this she reminds you of all the summers you had spent together when you were younger. She is carefree like this, a mere shadow of her former self; her once pristine skin now marred with scars and sun kissed from the hours upon hours in the sun.
You smile softly, before tossing the naked stem onto the ground at your feet, the soft swish of grass being stepped on pulls your attention from your best friend, your eyes traveling the length of Flynn as he leisurely makes his way toward you. A knowing smirk lifting his lips; Terror and you can almost always be found near each other, outside of the compound, but never too far off.
As he nears, he shifts his bow onto his back, the string stretching across his strong chest, rumpling the dusty blue shirt he wears. His auburn hair half pulled back into a low bun, the tips of his pointed ears peaking between the bright strands, blowing into his face.
He is stunning, for all you know he could have been Elven royalty before the world fell into bloody chaos, those strong cheekbones, and a beautiful dusting of freckles paint his nose and cheeks, dissipating outwards. He carries himself with an air of respect, but he is always one to humble himself to help anyone in need.
You smile softly, he seems too sweet for this bloodthirsty world, most don’t take him seriously, but he’s as lethal as a lion. Most think the same about you, because you're ‘softer’ compared to Terror. You couldn’t remember the last time you were soft, the brutality of this newer world changed everyone, and honestly this was the only world you could remember, much of your memories prior to the coalescence are mostly smoke and vapor, each time you reach for one it evaporates. 
The past didn't really matter much anyhow, all that really mattered now was surviving, making the most out of the shitty situation that was this new life. The world now is a mixture of the old apocalypse movies your father used to watch and the dark folklore books you read back in school; it was like another universe collided with ours, and merged both worlds into one. 
A change in the genetic code of the universe.
When the coalescence consumed both worlds, there were those who remained as human, and those who morphed into something else entirely, like something hidden deep within their genetic code and from their ancestry came to the forefront. Their bodies and minds went through changes, some turned into elves, others ravaging beasts who craved violence and destruction during full moons, or even killers whose diet depended on the consumption of blood.
Cities were mostly uninhabited, nature taking its course to reclaim what was once its own, well at least uninhabited by humans or elves. Those who had survived the coalescence and were not immediately eaten, drained, or used as whores to both bloodlust and carnage, lived in camps scattered far from large cities. Some smaller towns like the one you came from transformed into sanctuaries and strongholds. The big cities, like Boston, where Terror had lived… Well, they weren't as fortunate, the beasts took hold in those places like wildfire. 
Everything we thought we knew about these mythical creatures wasn't quite right. They definitely preferred to roam at night, when they were less likely to be seen; like most criminals– Werewolves were the biggest problem, followed by vampires. The werewolves were actually more like mobsters, aside from turning into giant flea ridden beasts. They really seemed to enjoy the finer things in life, but they absolutely ruled with iron fists, quick to punish with little to no mercy.
Your thoughts wandered to your family, still leading a stronghold in the south. You hoped they were still doing alright, the attacks usually came at night, or at least became more frequent when there were only stars to light the eerie skies–
“Sun?” Flynn’s voice broke into your mind, scattering your thoughts.
You blinked, eyes meeting Flynn’s calm green gaze, his head tilted to the side, in curious wonder, “Where’d ya go?”
Shaking your head lightly you sighed, pulling your knees closer to your chest, resting your arms against them, you hang your head, “Back in time… Flynn, do you wish you could go back? Before our worlds collided?” 
He shrugged nonchalantly, “I don’t remember much of my world before that…” 
You lift your head, watching as the sun lowers, casting an orange and red glow over the horizon, the shadows from the woods around you growing, reaching for the three of you and for the walls of the camp; the impending threat looming.
You draw your brows together, “I only remember bits and pieces, like–”
Terror’s hand is shoved against your lips, cutting off your voice, her leather gloves warmer then they should be. She is crouched defensively in front of you, arm stretched back covering your lips, her other hand wields a huge hunting knife. Eyes trained on the woods to our right, as still as a statue, your body freezes with hers, next to you, Flynn tenses, slowly reaching for his bow, drawing it back. 
Your ears tingle under your ball cap, they’ve become more sensitive recently, you know something is coming, but as the dark figures emerge from the treeline your heart nearly stops, their eyes shining in the setting sun.
Werewolves.
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@daiseychaindisaster @texan-tazzy @tianamontag @betareader7 @silently-killing-you @ojouhama
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imslowlydisintegrating · 9 months ago
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MADE OF OUR OWN STORMS
He was alone now, dangling from the side of a building, clinging onto a thin metal wire that was tearing the skin on his hands open. Art swung his leg to the side until he managed to plant his foot on the sill of the window that's glass had long since shattered.
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genre: soft apocalypse (yes ik that's an aesthetic but that's bascially the genre)
pov: 3rd limited; switches between characters
setting: it changes a lot but i think mostly post-apocalyptic north/central america and some post-apocalyptic asia
content warnings: gore, death, violence, self-harm, sui ideation, swearing, depictions of panic attacks, descriptions of dissociation
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blurb, characters + worldbuilding under the cut
BLURB
Some say the virus brought it on. Some say it was global warming. Some say it was a divine intervention. Whatever it was, it tore the world apart. A torrent of natural disasters struck across the globe on December 21, 2023. Billions died, and the few that survived were left to pick up the pieces of a broken world. After 100 years of successful survival in the post-apocalypse, society has been re-built into something manageable.
But it's not perfect. Hardly anything is.
ART O'CAHAN is a boy who was raised on curious looks and unhappy fathers.
ARUN NIDHI is a person who was raised on 'quiet down' and 'stop moving around so much.'
CY SEGAL is someone who was raised to be a happy person and still wasn’t able to be.
DAYA DA SILVA IGLESIAS is a girl who was raised to have a smile on her face despite her sleepless nights.
AZI TYALI is a girl who was raised to understand emotions but never learned how to express them.
These people aren't made for each other. They weren't destined to meet. But they did, and they fell in love with each other.
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CHARACTERS
Art O'Cahan (he/him)
Art was raised in a nomadic group of mainly Irish people like himself and Polish people. The death of his mother in childbirth solidified him as a social outcast from birth. His father never stepped forward to take care of him, too angry and grief-filled, so his aunt Indie stepped forward instead. The rejection from the group as a whole and his father resulted in self-esteem issues that started nearly from birth. As he got older, he became more and more distant from the group until he ran away at six. A traveling Claude and Cy found him half-starved and took him in. Claude was the first person who actually cared about him beyond familial necessity and helped him figure out he had inattentive type ADHD and taught him Muay Thai. Art is semi-neurotic, kind of the "Debbie Downer" of the group (along with Azi), and a terrible insomniac. Although he's the one to snap his siblings back to reality, he's very protective of them, which works since he has a very intimidating appearance at 6'3" with nearly black eyes and taped hands. He's one of the most touchy of his siblings and is INCREDIBLY touch-starved (give this little guy a hug bro). One of his most prevalent symptoms of ADHD is memory loss and often loses gaps in his recent memory, leading to one of his biggest fears of forgetting the people he loves.
Arun Nidhi (they/them)
Arun was born in Chennai, India, one of the few Indian cities left on earth. They met Claude, Cy, and Art when they were seven after leaving Chennai and traveling Southern Asia with a few other nomads. Arun pretty much to one look at Claude, Cy and Art and said 'later' to the other nomads and let themself into their group. Cy liked them immediately and Art was annoyed with them immediately. Arun is a very energetic, self-confident person. They butt heads with Art the most, usually just because they can and Art humors them. They're one of the more eccentric ones of the group, and can be described as an 'acquired taste'. They love to talk shit about anything and anyone, and cannot keep a secret to save their life. With unfamiliar people, they're more sarcastic and rougher overall, but with their siblings, they're generally a proud nuisance. They have a fondness for stick bugs and generally only eat canned food even if better food is available to them. Their energetic and excitable nature is used as a mask to hide their depression.
Cypress "Cy" Segal (she/he/they)
Cy had been with Claude pretty much since birth. She was born and raised in Halifax, Canada until she turned five and then Claude basically hauled ass to explore to world with her. Cy is Art's best friend and very much fills the role of middle child to Art's oldest brother. He's more calm and collected than most of his siblings and he is very grounded and aware of what happens around him. Overall, they're just a very steady person, not really a head-in-the-clouds type. She has memory problems and often collects natural items from specific places she wants to remember. He always has some form of jacket on and is perpetually cold. They're the semi-peacemaker of the group, so when there are fights they put in a half-assed attempt to stop it and somehow it usually works. She's heterochromatic with one green eye and one brown eye and has different levels of vision in different eyes. Due to a fight as a child, his hearing got damaged in his right ear, which led to him and his siblings learning ASL after it eventually got worse and he lost total hearing in his right ear. They also struggle with suicidal thoughts.
Daya da Silva Iglesias (she/her)
Daya was born and raised by a nomadic group of primarly Chilean and Angolan people in Santiago de Chile, Chile. Eventually, they began traveling again when Daya was around six. When Daya was seven she accidentally wandered away from the group in the Guatemala-Belize area. After a few days, she managed to find a Belizean city where Claude, Cy, Art, and Arun found her dehydrated and confused and nursed her back to health. Daya trusts people to a fault and gives them too much grace when they take advantage of her. She's definitely like the youngest child of her siblings and is very much the happy sweetheart of the group despite the trauma she experienced. Daya is on the autism spectrum, and some of her stims include clapping, tapping, humming, cracking bones, snapping, clicking her tongue, etc. Her bones crack a lot, if due to some physical condition, she doesn't know, she never experiences extreme pain from it. She makes bracelets and crochets beanies for all her siblings and carries around a bag that holds the mushrooms, pretty rocks, bird feathers, and butterfly wings that she finds. Daya struggles with chronic nightmares and insomnia as a result. Art started staying up with her to help her fall asleep and eventually, insomnia stuck with him too.
Vuyokazi "Azi" Tyali (she/her)
Azi was born into a nomadic group in South Africa of mainly Xhosa and Zulu people. When she was seven, she snuck away due to treatment from the group and survived in Cape Town for a few months. When she saw Claude, Cy, Art, Arun, and Daya in the port she was interested and followed them through the city. A few days later, Cy found her and offered to let her join them. Azi hesitantly agreed but found herself perfectly at home with them. When she started traveling with them, Claude taught her how to throw knives. She’s a really indecisive person, usually letting Daya decide things for her. Azi is incredibly perceptive of other people's body language and can detect emotions relatively easily. Out of all her siblings, Azi is the coldest and the most intimidating with her hooded eyes and piercing stare. She has a certain fondness for subway trains and graffitied places. Similarly, she likes to paint herself and let it dry to feel the paint crack against her skin. She only ever wears necklaces she can slip over her head and never ones with clasps. Azi has a panic disorder and suffers from panic attacks, leaving her in the state she hates most — vulnerable.
Dominique "Domi" Larieux Morais (he/they)
Domi was born in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, where he was raised with his sister five years his senior. When they were nine, they moved to New Orleans, U.S.A. He left New Orleans to travel as a nomad when he was fifteen. Later, when they were nineteen, Domi met Art while he was separated from his siblings. Domi followed him until Art decided to just ask Domi if he wanted to travel with him. Domi agreed and the two traveled together for about a year and a half until Art found his siblings again. Domi isn’t necessarily social, but they do talk a lot when they’re alone by themself, to the point they’d started talking to themself constantly. When Art started traveling with him, he wouldn’t talk for hours, sometimes days on end. Eventually they loosened up and started talking to Art more. Domi is an artist, usually drawing natural items around him or random people that stick out to him in cities. They like the feeling of weight on their bones, so they wear large, chunky rings and baggy jackets with weights they have sewn into the collars. Domi carries a hollow metal pipe around with him as a form of protection (and almost broke Art’s ribs with it when he first met him). Domi also suffers from intrusive thoughts and occasionally SHs.
Naia Zorita (she/they)
Born and raised in Lima, Peru, Naia was raised by a group of women that owned a fightclub where they taught her Rumi Maki boxing. When she was twelve, she left the city to travel around South America. After traveling for about six years, Naia met Azi in Fortaleza, Brazil. After annoying her for several days, Azi finally relented and let Naia travel with them. She immediately got along with Arun, much to Azi’s displeasure. Despite her short stature, leading some to believe she isn’t a threat, Naia is a competitive, proud fighter with a knack for getting into situations Cy has to drag her out of. She likes to walk through the cities that haven’t been saved, the cities that were left to crumble into the ground, and examine all the old cars that are now ruined. Sometimes she sits in them and imagines what it would be like if she ever learned to drive. She adores old churches with stained glass windows, often breaking the windows with a dented metal baseball bat she carries around with her and stealing glass to keep in her pockets. Naia suffers from dissociation and struggles with depression.
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Worldbuilding
Cities
Cities only have one ruler, and positions of power are passed onto people through a series of games (with no official name, but most people call them the Election, even though no voting is taking place). that singler ruler works under the name King (regardless of gender) [insert first name] (ex. the ruler of Chennai would be King Tharahi/this isn’t true, it’s just an example). Of course, it varies by region, but rulers are often on the same economic level as civilians (as a way to deter people who would just participate to become richer) and are people that you have a chance of seeing in day-to-day life. Each ruler’s personality varies but they are always very involved in the happenings of their city.
Nomads
Large nomad groups (30-70 people) usually have a group of 2-4 people leading, with one main leader of that group. for ex. Art’s nomad group is led by Maja (she/they), Bazyli (he/him), and Ayda (they/them). Extra fact: in nomad groups, (adult) people w/ uteruses are highly respected as they are the only people who can reproduce and keep the group alive (including trans men/intersex/afab nonbinary people), which is why Art is an outcast, since his mother died in childbirth. Obviously no one is held to a higher status than others but the respect is still there. Extra extra fact: people are considered mature at 14, but only considered adults at 20.
Smaller nomad groups (5-20 people) don’t usually have set leaders, instead making decisions as a group. Extra fact: if only one family is traveling, no matter how big, they are not legally or culturally recognized as a nomad group, instead as just a traveling family.
Customs
While many nomadic groups have different customs, there are some customs used globally by nomads and city-folk alike. Following the apocalypse, many people started collecting shiny things as a beacon of hope for a brighter future. The tradition stuck, and collecting pretty items became a custom even long after major reconstruction. Nomads also started wearing more natural tones to blend in with the world around them. Traditional currency never resurfaced, leaving barter and trade the main form of buy-and-pay. Most forms of working appear as volunteering. Plants became one of the main destructors of cities not rebuilt, so, when religion resurfaced, lots of the deities were plant-oriented. Weather also became a prominent motif in religion post-2023. Dates were tracked in a new way, with a refresh on the years, making what was supposed to be 2024 now zero — (day, month), year (year number).
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illarian-rambling · 4 months ago
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Thanks for the tags @tildeathiwillwrite @drchenquill @sabewebb!
OC Questionaire
My questions:
If you were a cocktail, which one would you be?
You’ve been chosen to represent your home/planet/country/etc in a global competition. What sport or activity are you doing?
What’s the last thing you did for the first time?
Is money important to you?
What is the worst nickname someone gave you?
Are you an early bird or a night owl?
What genre of story would you rather be in? (as opposed to the one they are currently in)
Do you think you'd survive the movie A Quiet Place? (must stay as silent as possible or alien creatures hunt you down)
What's your idea of a quiet get-together with a close friend?
That's a looootta questions. I'll answer for Ivander :)
1) If you were a cocktail, which one would you be?
"Hmmm, what a curious question. I suppose I'd be a gin and tonic. Bitter, with a certain air of limelight elegance."
2) You’ve been chosen to represent your home/planet/country/etc in a global competition. What sport or activity are you doing?
"If I'm representing Illaros for anything, then we're truly in dire straits. Oh gods, what even are my talents? I'm a decent detective, I suppose. There aren't really competitions for that though. Given that, I'll go with sharpshooting. I'm no Shuari deadeye, but I've got a fair sense of aim."
3) What’s the last thing you did for the first time?
"Don't call me out in such a manner. I... I guess I tried orcish food for the first time a few weeks ago? I'm not really the Go Out and See What the World Holds type. It's hard enough to find comfort within my routine, so why would I go out of my way to break it?"
4) Is money important to you?
"Very. The pursuit of it might’ve ruined my life, but that's the funny thing about money; you always want more. To be perfectly frank, I grew up in the lap of luxury and I don't think I could survive anywhere else."
5) What is the worst nickname someone gave you?
"Do you know how many times I've heard someone call me blueboy? I swear, that was all I heard for my first three years at the BAI. I'm not even blue, really - I just have blue blood. Usually, I'm in too high of a tax bracket, but I've also heard a good old-fashioned cripple from time to time."
6) Are you an early bird or a night owl?
"Night owl. My curse gives me trouble sleeping, so I tend to stay up late reading rather than stay up late laying miserably in bed. I'm about the furthest thing you could get from an early bird. Left to my own devices, I'll usually drag myself up sometime after noon."
7) What genre of story would you rather be in? (as opposed to the one they are currently in)
"This whole 'Mystery' of the Mortal God stuff is bull. I have one chapter of detective work, and the rest is adventuresome nonsense involving far too much camping for my taste. Give me a real mystery, preferably with lots of juicy secrets and semi-legal meddling."
8) Do you think you'd survive the movie A Quiet Place? (must stay as silent as possible or alien creatures hunt you down)
"I'm not surviving any apocalypse, I assure you. Not making sound wouldn't be easy, but I could wrap the end of my cane in something soft and be fine. Once I can't order take-out anymore is when I starve to death. Monsters are one thing. Societal collapse is another, far more frightening, thing."
9) What's your idea of a quiet get-together with a close friend?
"Oh, I suppose that's the only sort of get-together I really enjoy. Ceyrel and I go out for dinner quite frequently. We talk shit over appetizers, then move on to baseless rumors by dessert. When we're both caught up on some choice gossip, we'll go out to see a play or opera or somesuch. I usually have to explain the opera to her - the uncultured meathead - but she sneaks in popcorn, so it's alright. By then, I'm usually rather exhausted, so she drops me off at my apartment, and we part ways amicably. ...These nights really are the highlight of my week, but I could never tell her that. I'm sure she'd rather be out dancing late into the night. It means much that she humors my limited stamina."
I'll tag @theink-stainedfolk @elsie-writes @honeybewrites and anyone else who wants in :)
Your questions:
What's your favorite summer activity?
What does home smell like?
What's your favorite thing about your favorite person?
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msfcatlover · 2 years ago
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I am never not thinking about my personal AUs. Which will probably never see the light of day, unless you ask me about them or I boil over into a handful of concept/rant posts to huck into the void like so many frisbees.
Please, ask me about my AUs.
Current AU brainworms (almost all batfam):
The Reverse!Robins AU, featuring Duke as the eldest, Nightwing!Damian, Oracle!Tim, Steph as the Red Hood figure, Jason getting the Red Robin arc, and Dick as Batman!Cass’s sidekick.
The Magnus Archives universe fusion, where almost the entire family are Avatars. Focuses more on the fun slice-of-life silliness of being a bunch of eldritch fear-eating monsters than the Horrors(TM), but also body horror & nightmare fuel are fun.
Low-fantasy Urban Fantasy AU. Supernatural entities are exceptionally rare, and that is why almost nobody in the family is one. Gotham itself is semi-sentient, the Wayne bloodline has a Fisher King style cursed-bond to the city, Dick is highly magic-sensitive, Jason comes back as a Revenant, Tim is a changeling.
Monster Batkids AU, aka “Every monster can’t be your son.” Dick is a living doll, Jason’s a gargoyle grotesque, Tim is a ghost echo, Steph is a dullahan (zombie edition), Cass is a homunculus. Bruce, Alfred, & Babs are still exceptionally talented humans. Damian’s a genetically-tweaked clone, which means he’s kinda straddling the line between the two groups.
Changeling!Jason. Catherine Todd had a little boy with eyes that sparkled like sapphires. Bruce Wayne took in a homeless boy with eyes like soft grey river-stones. They have the same Name, but they are not the same child.
De-aged RH. Jason made it all the way back to Gotham, but never kicked off his big comeback plan. Dick Grayson opens his door to find a very irritable 13yr old version of his dead little brother telling Dick that he’s been cursed & doesn’t remember anything.
De-aged Robins. Dick, Tim, Steph, & Cass went to bust a villain operation a few days ago before going completely dark. Jason kicks the door down, clears out the place, and finds four very fighty 10yr olds in need of rescue.
“If Worst Comes to Worst,” aka the time-travel AU. Robin lived long enough to see the entire family fall. Robin lived long enough to see the world, for all intents & purposes, end. Robin held the line for as long as possible, and when that line reached its end, Robin faced it on their own terms. Robin woke up again on the day Jason Todd was supposed to meet Bruce Wayne, and swore to fix everything that went wrong. The problem? There are 5 different Robins, from 5 very different apocalypses, with 5 very different sets of trauma responses, and 5 very different plans to save the world.
“Perchance to Dream (2, Batbros Boogaloo),” aka “Hey, what if that one episode, but Jason’s the one in the machine & Dick gets halfway stuck in there too while trying to rescue him, basically ending up an intangible, invisible specter in Jason’s dream?”
Talon!Jason. Shiela Haywood did not sell her son out to the Joker. The Court wasn’t happy to find themselves with the wrong Robin, but they made do. Five years later…
Talon!Dick. In which I say, “Hey, you know what there’s not enough of? Fics where Talon!Dick meets Street-kid!Jason, and they both go, ‘Oh, this loser definitely won’t survive on his own! Guess I have to adopt him now.’”
Platonic!ABO. Which is to say, a setting with the usual social & biological rules expected of A/B/O stories, but without any sex or romance. Because I have discovered that the found family hits extra hard, the sick fics are basically therapeutic for me, and I wanted to play with the family dynamics I kept seeing in other Platonic!ABO Batfam fics.
NTT coping. Please, ask me about all the brotherly bonding Dick & Jason could’ve had back in the 80s. I have many thoughts.
_______________________________________________________________
The Magnus Archives:
Archivist!Tim. Yes, seriously. Sick of this only showing up in crackfics, give Tim the respect (trauma) he deserves (desperately doesn’t)! (please, I have like 4 seasons outlined, please)
De-aged Archivist. Late s3, Jon gets turned back to his childhood self in both body & mind. It seems like it’ll likely wear off on its own, but in the meantime there is a child in the archives and nobody really knows what to do about that.
______________________________________________________________ Slay the Princess:
Slay the Monster. Death isn’t change, Death is stillness & stagnation. The construct is not frozen, it’s alive & ever-shifting. There’s a monster in the basement, and on a path in the woods there is a princess. She’s here to slay him.
Original Routes: The Dancer & The Dream (art)
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illunicae · 5 months ago
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You Can See the Stars
I've wanted to do a part two to When the Lights Go out since I first published it and I finally got around to it. Obviously this will have so much angst, but there is a little fluff mixed in there at the end. Also I might do more stories sent in this timeline so I'm calling the collection There's Always More to Lose. (Also found on Ao3)
Pairing: Rise Donatello x Female Reader
TWs: Semi-graphic description of wounds, Character death, The Kraang apocalypse, Mentions of past character deaths, Blood and injury, Death
The days passing were a hellish blur. You never left your room: there was nothing for you out there. You hardly ate: the soup Mikey had brought you earlier sat abandoned on your bedside table. Your skin was dull: you were withering away. Your eyes never shown with that once familiar youthful spark: what light is left in your life? Tear tracks were a permanent feature on your cheeks, even after your tears stopped falling. 
The photo clutched in your hands made your heart twist in a devastating way, yet you couldn’t look away. You were frozen. The picture wasn’t that old, only taken a year ago by a stealthy Michelangelo determined to document the fleeting moments of peace in this world. 
A young Lenore sat on her father’s shoulders, the brightest grin on her face as she waved to her mother. Her mother was sporting her own carefree grin as she looked up at her daughter. One of Donnie’s hands was wrapped around Lenore’s ankle to keep her balanced while atop his shoulders; the other was extended toward his wife, where she grasped it in her own hand. The glow of pure admiration in his eyes as he looked at his wife went unnoticed by her in the moment. 
The scene was pulled slowly from your hands and you're brought back to your desolate bedroom. Only this time you're not alone. Your eyes rose to meet Leo’s worried gaze. In his large hand he held the photo like a delicate flower petal, his gaze only flickered to it momentarily and his heart broke more. 
Leo and Mikey were extremely worried for you, hell the whole resistance  was worried for their commander. The blue branded leader understood your grief, but only to a limited extent. When they lost Donnie, he was there with you while you grieved for a husband and he for a brother. But now you lost a daughter, a child. He knew he could never truly grasp a mother’s grief.  Leo wanted to fix things. He wanted to take away your pain, your grief.
He wanted to carry it for you, but that was an impossibility. All he could do was make sure you didn’t fall apart. 
The bed dipped as he sat next to you. You hardly moved. Leo thumbed the delicate photo before he sighed. 
“You need to eat.” When he didn’t get any indication of a response he continued. “I know it’s hard. I’m not going to sit here and say I understand, because I don’t. I could never understand the type of grief that hurts you. But I do know that neither of them would want you to waste away like this. Hidden from the people who are here to help. So please, (Y/n). Eat something, just a single spoonful.” Leo’s voice trailed off, a slight desperate edge to it as he gestured to the warm bowl of soup Mikey brought in, though you never noticed. 
You shakily exhaled. Your stomach twisted into an ugly knot both repulsed by the idea of food and craving it. How long had it been since you ate?
Eyes unseeing, you looked at the bowl. 
“Just one bite, for her.” Leo spoke, softly urging you to take it.
Shaking hands reached for the bowl. Leo felt relief wash over him as you brought it back to your lap and lifted the spoon with a shuddering hand. Your lips touched the edge of the spoon and the small amount of soup disappeared. Once again you exhaled shakily. 
“Thank you.” Leo whispered with relief. It was a start, so he let you return the bowl to your bedside table. He wasn’t going to let his best friend fall apart.
“Leo.” Your voice was scratchy from disuse, raw from nights of long sobbing, and soft from fear of disrupting the small bout of silence. Leo almost didn’t hear it. He wouldn’t have if he wasn’t paying such close attention to you. 
“I’m here, (Y/n).” He looked at the side of your face as you were still facing the far wall, not looking at anything in particular. 
Tears you thought had long since dried up began bubbling at the lip of your lids. “I failed.” You uttered, soft, raw, and scratchy.
“What?” Leo held the photo a little tighter. 
“I failed!” A gasp burst from your lungs as a few tears rolled down your cheek. You turned to look Leo in the eye and he could see the pain, despair, and grief swirling around. “I promised him I’d protect her. I promised HIM!” You sobbed.
Leo understood then.
He had made a similar promise.
Your body shook with forceful sobs as you fell forward. Leo lurched to catch you. Your head hit against his plastron, but you didn’t seem to care. His arms came up to wrap around you as you cried.
“She was supposed to be safe with me. I was supposed to keep her safe.” Tears poured more freely down your cheeks as you repeated your phrases and sobbed. Leo held still, offering himself up for whatever comfort he could provide. His flesh hand rubbed circles onto your back as your tears wet his chest.
“It’s not your fault.” He whispered. “You did what you could.”
You pulled away enough to look him in the eyes but not leave the embrace. You shook your head. Leo cupped your cheek with his hand and wiped a tear with his thumb. You grabbed his wrist with one of your hands, the other rested atop the photo Leo was still holding. 
“Who am I if I couldn’t protect her?”
✧*
The pair of you had stayed like that long into the night. Leo didn’t want to leave you alone, and you didn’t have the strength to insist you wanted solitude. When you finally decided to leave your room, Leo helped you when your legs refused to hold your weight. 
“One step.” Leo had instructed softly. “Take it one step at a time.”
You sighed and after a moment you were able to walk on your own, but Leo still kept close to your side as you wandered out into the hall. The few resistant members you passed whispered to each other, but you didn’t hear it. You didn’t want to hear it. You had seen it all before, when you lost Donnie and everyone treated you like you were delicate glassware. You supposed you looked even more fragile now without your little light by your side. 
Few of the members held a bit of hope in their eyes seeing you up and about again. They didn’t say anything, but their silence spoke plenty. You didn’t spare anyone a glance, you were determined to get to the mess hall where Leo insisted he get you some proper, warm food. 
Unfortunately your path took you past the memory wall. 
Seeing it out of the corner of you eye, you froze. Leo stiffened beside you. He knew they had put up new photos for everyone they lost in the battle four days prior. He could see the photo they put up for Lenore from where he stood in the hall.
You were looking into the room, your eyes unfocused.
“You don’t have to go in there. Don’t force yourself. We can just walk away.” Leo reassured with a gentle hand on your shoulder. 
You took a deep breath and stepped toward the wall; you had to face the wall at one point or another, you couldn’t hide from it forever. And while Leo had said not to push yourself, something was calling you. There would never be closure, not truly, but you had to start somewhere.
You’ll start with the photos on the wall.
Leo trailed after you slightly worried, but he did not stop you.
Looming ominously, lit up with a dozen candles, the wall towered over your form. It seemed to stretch on for miles, but you knew that was impossible, deep down you still had hope to believe you hadn’t lost enough people to fill miles of walls with photos though your grief surely felt limitless. 
It’s a well worn arc, your eyes drift across the wall. You looked at it countless of times. Your eyes first landed on the pair of expertly crafted sais to your right perched on a small shelf with a red ribbon and four candles. Your gaze traveled up the wall slightly to the various photos pined. Raph was smiling brightly in the first pic, his grin sharp and his eyes warm: he’s younger there, not as worn down with scars and still filled with inextinguishable hope. The next photo was of Casey: in typical Jones fashion, her grin was a little crazed as she wielded a titanium hockey stick high above her head. A second, smaller picture was pinned right under it of a tired Casey holding a small bundle in her hands. You couldn’t look at that photo for long and quickly avert your gaze to a very familiar object.
The violet battleshell was hung up on the wall, unused.   
Breath catching in your lungs like every time, you could only stare at the shell. Sometimes your fingertips would brush the smooth surface, but this hour your hand was heavy at your side. You could still feel the heavy clasps on your shoulders, a phantom weight that followed you constantly. Tensing your shoulders got rid of the feeling momentarily as you moved your gaze on. You could feel the sting as you looked at the photo of Donnie, he’s half asleep with a makeshift mug in his hand, maybe there’s coffee in the mug, you don’t actually remember. Coffee was a delicacy in the resistance. 
The next few photos are new. 
Pain pricked your eyes. You brought yourself there, you had to look. A soft exhale passed your lips as you lifted your gaze to look at the new photos. The first photo nearly pushed the tears over the lids of your eyes. Lenore bore a bright smile while sat at the edge of a roof. The desolate landscape stretched behind her, you could almost make out what remained of central park: a sad sight really, but the way the sun was setting made it glow almost ethereally and Lenore herself was haloed with golden light. She was so happy in that photo, almost carefree.
What life would she have had? In a world not ruled by grief and terror, would she have gone to school? Make lots of friends? Sneak out of the house to go to parties?
You blinked, there was no use worrying about questions with no answers. Twisting painfully, your heart thudded against your ribs as you saw the next photo, smaller than the first and nestled next to the battle shell.��
Lenore wore a lab coat, like her father. Both had goggles perched on their heads as they leaned over a piece of tech. Not just any tech, a battle shell–to fit a smaller shell, to fit Lenore. Lenore was biting her lip excitedly as she helped move tech into place. A proud smirk rested on Donnie’s lips as he watched his daughter work. Neither seemed to notice the camera. The photo was taken only a day before Donnie’s death. It’s the last photo you have of the two of them together. 
A tear slipped down your cheek as you stared at that photo, you hadn’t even realized you were crying again. 
They never finished the battle shell.
A strangled gasp broke the silence as you could do nothing more than stare. Leo’s warm hand came down to rest on your shoulder, a silent reassurance that he was there. You leaned into the small bit of comfort. 
“How am I supposed to go on?” You asked, your voice soft and distant and broken.
Leo swallowed, “You take the future one day at a time. One hour, one second if you need to. You keep moving forward, one step at a time. And know that everyone here will help you.”
✧*
You were in the lab. It wasn’t the first time you'd been in there and you hoped it won’t be the last. You had spent a lot of time in here after the death of Donnie, but you kept moving forward, for your daughter. Now you sat alone in the dim lab.
The unfinished battle shell still laid out on the table where Donnie and Lenore where once working on it. Lenore couldn’t stand the thought of finishing it without her father, even if it meant she would have been still standing here next to you. A thin layer of dust had collected on the tools left exactly where the pair had put them down when you had come to fetch them for dinner. None of you knew in that moment that it would be the last night you spent as a whole family.
If you looked hard enough you could still see your husband and daughter sitting around the table, muttering technical terms back and forth. 
Your thumb brushed over the cold metal, clearing some dust from the small engraved logo on the shoulder of the small battle shell. It’s been about a year since you lost Lenore, and a little over since you lost Donnie. Four short months was all it took for you to lose both the love of your life and your precious little light. 
“For you, my little light.” You mumbled softly. You looked around at the various screens and tech piled in the lab. “For you, my love.” Squaring your shoulders, you turned and left the lab, pausing briefly at the doorway to look over the empty space. 
Taking a deep breath you turned, letting the doors close and lock behind you. You'll be back. That’s what you kept telling yourself, but deep down you knew. Tomorrow is your last stand against the Kraang. 
You’ll either win or lose.
You don’t believe you’ll return to that lab again, but you’ll go into battle with determination. You will give it everything. If that’s not enough, then you'll see your husband and daughter again.
Muscle memory brought you to the rooftop exit of the base. It’s not a very tall building you've holed up in, but the roof still provided a half decent view. You didn’t care much for the horizon though, your eyes were always on the sky. Looking for the stars you so loved. 
But the world was too broken. The stars were hidden away. Though some nights when you couldn’t sleep or the eve of battle, you liked to pretend that you could still see them when you sat up there on the roof of the base. Usually you sat alone, wishing for something different: for a world not torn apart by a war, a world where your daughter could just be a kid, a world free from this pain. 
On a rare few occasions, Donnie would join you and you'd lay on your backs just staring at the red sky trying to catch a glimpse of the beauty beyond. Your hands would interlock and you would think back to that night you first showed Donnie the stars. 
You were 14. You were young and the world hadn’t been destroyed yet. You both had no idea what was waiting for you in the future, but it didn’t matter because all you cared about was there and then. You didn’t even know how much you mattered to each other yet. Your hands sat only an inch apart as you laid on your backs staring at the sky. Both of you wanted to slide your hand across to bridge the gap. Both of you were too afraid to do it. How little this moment would matter in the coming future. How many times you would return to this night.
You exhaled softly, you mind peaceful as you admired the sky above you. The glittering stars illuminating the field you found yourselves in. The city noise was only a distant hum.
“You know why I like it out here?” You asked softly. Donnie hummed and turned his head to glance at you. You were still watching the sky and he could see the stars reflected in your eyes. He could see your smile as you explained. “When all the lights go out you can see the stars.”
✧*
“Commander (Y/n), you’re hurt!” CJ shouted worriedly. 
The slash across your shoulder and above your heart throbbed painfully. Blood was gushing from the wound, staining your cloak a dark maroon color. You waved the boy off. “I’ll be okay.”
You weren’t sure how much of that was the truth. You and Leo shared glances, and you took notice of the blood pouring through the fingers of his prosthetic from a wound in his side. 
The howl of a kraang hound broke the two of you from your small stare off. You reacted quickest and sliced the hound deep with your sword, leaving the beast as a twitching pile of gore at your feet.
“Come on. We gotta move.” Leo instructed, and you all began sprinting up the hill. 
Leo stumbled, but CJ was right there to throw an arm over his shoulder and help Leo. You kept your palm on your own wound as you kept pace with the boys. 
All around them death and destruction ruled. You tried to keep focus as you sprinted. Briefly your mind wondered where April ended up. Oh you hoped she’s okay. Your head spun, the blood from your shoulder seemed like a river. Stay awake. Stay awake. 
You made it to the top of the hill. But you were far from done. You stumbled as did Leo and CJ in front of you. You could hear the kraang hounds behind you all. You all flinched, bracing for pain that never came, instead a familiar voice shouted.
“Bad doggies!” With relief you looked and saw familiar glowing golden chains protecting you all.
“Impecable timing little brother. Very dramatic.” Leo appraised. You could only dryly chuckle in relief as you let your head fall back against the red dirt ground.
A few feet away the boys were talking, but you couldn’t hear any of it over the sound of ringing in your head. Until Leo uttered the words you grew to fear: “That’s it. The Kraang won. The resistance failed.” 
A tear slipped down your cheek. So that's it? Was it all for nothing? 
You whimpered in pain as you sat up, across the way you made eye contact with Leo. The two of you seemed to speak with only your eyes. There was still a dim glimmer of hope. An impossibility really. One final shot.
When he spoke up there was resolution in his voice. “It isn’t over. We still have a ninja’s greatest weapon: hope.” Leo turned toward his younger brother. A smile on his face despite the circumstances. “That and a badass mystic warrior. Mikey we need a time gateway.” Leo requested, falling serious and somber once again.
Mikey’s eyes widened slightly at the request. “It’ll take everything I have.”
“I know, but this is our last chance. It’s our only chance.” Leo stated. You three adults all shared glances, each weighing the request in your own minds.
Mikey didn’t ponder the request for long before he nodded with determination and flew over toward an open spot to summon the gateway.
“Wait, what’s going on? Where’s he going?” Casey asked as you all watched Mikey.
“CJ you have to listen to us.” You said as you rose to kneel next to CJ and Leo. “The Kraang first came to our planet through a mystic doorway.” You explained.
Leo placed the picture of his family he was looking at earlier face-down on the ground and picked up a charred stone. “The key to open the doorway looked like this.” Leo sketched the image on the picture before picking it up and handing it to CJ.
“Why are you telling me this?” CJ asked, a worried edge cutting his voice.
“Because Mikey’s about to send you back in time to the day that the key was stolen.” Leo stated.
“Wait, he’s gonna what!?” Casey exclaimed in disbelief, his eyes were wide with thought of the impossibility. 
You placed your non-bloodied hand on CJ’s shoulder, he’s young and this is a lot to put on the shoulders of someone his age, but it’s your only shot of giving another timeline a chance. “The people who stole the Key opened the doorway for the Kraang. You have to find it before that happens.” You said softly, that day all those years ago flashing memories in your mind. 
“Find the Key. Stop the Kraang.” Leo’s voice was stern as he looked at the young teen.
CJ pocketed the picture with a frown, “But sensei–”
Leo cut the boy off with a hand to CJ’s shoulder. “Say it!”
“Find the key.” CJ repeated solemnly. “Stop the Kraang.” Both of you gave the boy a soft smile as you leaned back. CJ looked to be on the verge of tears as he looked between the two of you. CJ clutched the wrist of Leo’s prosthetic arm desperately. “I don’t want to lose you.” He mumbled.
With a soft sigh, Leo shook his head, “Casey, it’s not about me–”
The sentiment was cut off as a bright red light flashed down upon you like a spotlight from hell. Three large Kraang mechs loomed over you injured rebels. CJ jumped to his feet, revving his chainsaw hockey stick. You and Leo followed suit, but at a slower pace due to your wounds.
“They found us!” CJ shouted as he got ready to fight off the army. You could feel your heart shattering. You were out of options. 
Another light shone down on you from a mech crawling over the mountain of debris you were just using as cover. You were surrounded. This wasn’t a fight you could win. Realizing this Leo looked toward his brother, “Mikey.” 
The situation was daunting, Mikey only spared a glance at his arms cracking apart with golden light. With a shout, he willed more power to the portal. 
Noticing what was happening, CJ shouted. “Master Michelangelo, no! You're gonna—” He reached his hand out as Mikey glanced over his shoulder. Mikey winked with a smile before throwing the last of his strength into the gateway. The light was blinding. Your heart ached for you friend who was there one moment and gone the next in an explosion of brilliant golden flakes. The specks of light drifted past you remaining as you all stared in varying levels of grief. 
 Stark against the desolate landscape, a golden mystic portal beckoned you closer. It flashed and pulsed with Mikey’s magic. You took a deep breath. This was it. 
“When you’re done saving the world, do us a favor.” Leo set a heavy hand on CJ’s shoulder. “Grab a slice!” He shouted and threw the teen toward the portal. CJ stared wide eyed as he watched the two of you get farther from him. You and Leo offered one last reassuring smile before turning your backs to the portal.
“For them.” Leo stated with a tight grip on his sword.
“For all of them.” You repeated and you two dashed in opposite directions to protect the portal so no Kraang followed CJ to the past. Your wound screamed at you, blood pouring free of obstruction. But you didn’t back down. This world may be done for, but thanks to CJ another timeline may have a shot. 
You choked on air as something slammed into your back. Leo had looked over with wide eyes full of horror and grief. Glancing down revealed the sharp claws of a kraang mech jutting from your stomach. You tried to take a breath but couldn’t. You couldn’t feel the scream that ripped from your throat as the kraang threw you across the battle field, blood spilling in an arc following your trajectory.
When you finally stopped rolling, you looked up just in time to see the portal blink closed. You did it.
Your eyes locked with Leo’s before a blinding red light descended on both of you. You expected pain, but there was nothing. When you opened your eyes you felt nothing. Your body didn’t feel heavy.
You could rest now.
You looked up at the sky. You laughed without breath as you took in the beautiful sight. The battle field fell away, replaced with ribbons of color dancing and weaving through the sky. You sat in a thin layer of water. Was this the after life? It didn’t matter. 
“Mama!” A familiar voice shouted.
Your eyes flew wide as you turned to look, standing there was Lenore. She was glowing as she smiled, actually glowing as her ninpo surrounded her like a thin aura. You immediately jumped to your feet and ran toward your daughter. Lenore giggled excitedly as she too sprinted toward you, water splashing with each step she took.
The two of you collided roughly, but there was no pain, only relief and you hugged your daughter tightly. “My little light. My lovely Lenore.” You murmured as you cried and held your daughter close. 
“I’m here mama. I’m here.” Lenore hugged back just as tightly.
You sobbed with relief as you couldn’t say anything more than a few inaudible murmurs. Lenore was the first to pull away, much to your dislike, but when Lenore gestured to the figure standing nearby your heart leapt into your throat.
“Don?” Your voice whispered.
He smirked, a familiar sight. “Hello, love.”
You ran to him, heart soaring. He caught you as you leapt through the air. His arms caged you to his chest as he spun you around. “I love you.” You sobbed into his shoulder as you stopped and just stood in your embrace. 
“I love you to darling.” He responds, running a hand up and down your back in a soothing manor. 
You peeked to the side and pulled away just enough to reach your arm out and pull Lenore into the hug as well. “I missed you. I missed you both so much.” You said as you held your family close.
“We missed you too mama.” Lenore squeezed both you tightly.
“We’ll never have to be apart now.” Donnie stated as he pulled away slightly to cup your cheek and wipe away your tears. Lenore removed herself from the hug to smile at you both before rushing over to greet her uncles. You stayed glued to Donnie’s side as you saw Leo and Mikey surrounded by Raph, Splinter, April, and Casey. 
With a soft grin on your face, you looked back at your husband. He was already staring at you with a look full of admiration. His thumb rubbed idly across your cheek as he smiled. 
“You know why I like it here?” Donnie asked softly. You raised a brow in question. He just grinned. “When the lights goes out,” the dancing lights faded from the sky as Donnie lifted your chin slowly to get you to look at the sky. Your eyes widened as the lights were replaced by thousands of stars all glittering and twinkling. “You can see the stars.”
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