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boxofbonesfic · 6 months

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Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [6]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why.

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

Word Count: 3,776

A/N: whew. okay. we’re back, we’re updating, and we’re getting back on track. i think the motivation behind the madness is becoming a little clearer. or at least, more clear. i hope you all enjoy, and as always, comments and especially reblogs are always appreciated. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics

It’s your wedding day, again.

You remember the soft white satin of your dress like it was yesterday—only it’s today, isn’t it? How can something happen again if it hasn’t happened yet? You look down at your hands, where the lacy sleeves of your wedding dress loop gracefully around your thumbs—your nails are picked raw and bleeding. You look back up at the mirror, and your own distraught face stares back at you.

I don’t want to get married.

No, that isn’t right—this is a good day, a happy day, why don’t you want it anymore? There is knowledge that dances just out of touch as you stare fuzzily at the mirror in your bridal suite. Something is wrong, but you don’t remember what it is. The mirror fragments, each component folding away as the world tilts on it’s axis, wood flooring becoming red carpet strewn with rose petals.

You stand at the altar, the priest beaming at you.

You will take him won’t you? As husband, husband and wife—Ransom splits in two like a cell, and both of them hold your hands so tight the bones creak and hurt and—

“I love you, Princess, Sweetheart, Darling, Mine—” One voice, two mouths, one person, two bodies. You don’t realize they’re pulling until you tear, splitting right down the middle like you’re made of tissue paper. too. Pulling you to bloody pieces as they repeat oaths of husbandly devotion.

My wife.

MY WIFE.

You wake up in darkness, your heart pounding in your chest. It disorients you, and you blink, expecting the cloud to clear from your eyes but it doesn’t. Immediately your hand goes to your stomach, and your frantic heartbeat calms just a fraction as you rest a hand on the gentle swell. The thoughts in your head are still an anxious jumble. Ransom, Lloyd, the party—

God, the party.

Your stomach churns as you recall Lloyd’s cruel smile.

Tell him. Tell me what he says.

You clap a hand to your mouth as an anguished sob threatens to escape. Ransom, Lloyd… where had they taken you? You frantically feel your way to the edge of the bed, your feet slipping a little on the cool tile as you stand.

“H-hello?” You call out into the darkness, but there’s no response. Trembling, you begin taking short, halting steps forward, your hands outstretched. “P-please, someone—fuck!” You curse loudly as your foot catches the edge of something, a table, a chair, you can’t tell. “Answer me!”

No one does.

You wander forward blindly until you reach a wall, and, feeling along it, you feel plaster turn to glass. You gasp, frantically dragging your hands along the surface until feel something—a switch. You flick it up, and there’s a sound like whirring gears. The lights don’t come on, but something else happens instead: the blackout shades on the other side of the thick pane of glass begin to lift, light creeping in underneath the edge. It’s blinding at first, spots dancing in your eyes as you throw a hand up to shield them, but after a moment, they adjust.

You see… a beach.

An empty beach.

The clear blue water comes straight up to the window like an aquarium. There are no people on the pristine, white sand—no one to hear you as you frantically beat your palm against the glass. Frantically, you turn around to take stock of the room, grabbing for a nearby chair. You knock over the little coffee table in the sitting area next to you, but you don’t care. It takes all your strength to heft it above your head, screaming as you slam it into the glass—

But nothing happens. It connects with a dull thud, the treated wood splintering as it cracks. The window is unharmed, barely even scratched. An anguished wail tears from your chest as you throw everything within reach that you can lift, beating everything into splinters until you’re left panting and sobbing in the wreckage.

“Sweetheart you know that really isn’t good for the baby.” You whirl around frantically, grabbing for the leg of a chair you’d broken into kindling against the indestructible-fucking-window, brandishing it threateningly. You hadn’t even heard the sound of a door opening—in fact, as you stare, wide-eyed around the room, trying to pin down his point of entry, you can’t seem to find a door at all in the lavishly decorated suite.

“Fuck you!” You snarl at him, your lip curling. “Let—let me out of here!” Ransom clucks his tongue at you like you’re an errant child.

“You’re a smart girl, Love. You know I’m not going to do that.”

“You can’t fucking keep me in here—” Ransom shakes his head.

“I can, Sweetheart. And I’m going to. We’re going to.” He casts a disparaging look down at the ruined chairs and table by your feet. “Lloyd did tell me not to put the good stuff in first—I underestimated your temper.” The casual remark makes you want to swing your makeshift bat at his head. “He designed it for you, you know. I thought we could just lock you in the basement, but now that I see it, I think this is better.”

“You’re a monster.” You’re crying, hard, hysterical sobs that leave your throat raw and aching. He actually has the gall to look hurt by your insult, his face crumpling as his mouth presses into a thin, angry line.

“A monster that loves you. That would do anything to protect you—even from yourself.” Your body seizes with fear as he crosses the room in a few easy strides, gripping your shoulders with furious hands. You whine as he squeezes, pressing harder and harder until you drop the scrap of wood you’re holding. You don’t know this Ransom, this maniacal, cruel man wearing your husband’s face, your husband’s ring.

“Do you remember what it was like when we got together?” He asks. Ransom shakes you a little, like he’s trying to jog your memory. “Living at home with your parents, helping them with every single bill because you were terrified your sister was going to graduate high-school on the streets—”

“So what?” You spit back. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“I gave you everything.” For the first time you see the same possessive madness in his eyes you’d seen in Lloyd’s. “And you think you can just walk away? Take from me until you’ve gotten your fill? That’s not how this works, Sweetheart.” He releases you and you stumble away, clutching yourself. He straightens his shirt, smoothing back the errant hairs that have fallen into his face.

“We’re going to give you such a good life, Sweetheart. You just have to trust us.”

“I will never trust you again.” You growl the words at him like a threat. “I hate you.” And then, inexplicably, he’s your Ransom again, his blue eyes soft as he looks at you, like he knows something you haven’t yet come to accept. Like an adult admonishing a child for fears they’ll soon leave behind as they grow to accept the way things are—the way they always will be.

“You won’t always.” His eyes flick down to the destruction you’ve wrought, and he clucks his tongue. “Maybe I’ll talk to Lloyd about bringing in some new furniture for you, if you’re good.” Ransom’s handsome mouth curves up into an amused smile. “Maybe something a little heavier.” He kicks at a piece of the table, before making his way back over to the other side of the room. A door the same color as the wall opens at his touch.

“Lunch in an hour.”

—

True to his word Ransom returns with Lloyd in tow, a tray held in his large hands. You’d waited for this moment with a dark sort of anticipation, and for a brief moment, their stunned, angry expressions as the door panel slides open fill you with a sense of profound pride.

You’d done your level best to destroy everything that wasn’t nailed down, methodically and systematically taking apart everything you could get your hand on. Even the mattress lies ruined, feathers and wood splinters littering the torn cover. Though the mirror had refused to break—and indeed proved too heavy for you to lift—you feel a smug satisfaction in seeing what you had been able to accomplish with jagged pieces of plywood.

Fuck you.

Lloyd steps in first, squatting down to inspect a piece of the smashed coffee table.

“I told you we shouldn’t have put this stuff in here first. Empty room, Ransom. You always have to start with an empty room.” His eyes flick up to yours, and he smiles softly—affectionately. “Hi, Princess.”

“Go to hell, Lloyd.” Ransom steps fully into your room then, shutting the door gently behind him before setting the tray on the windowsill. He sighs.

“I know it was stupid to hope your attitude had improved in an hour, but stranger things have happened.” He glances back at the tray. “You should eat something, Love. It’s been four days of—” His words become a static drone as the panic begins to set in. Four days? I’ve been out for four days? The questions fill your head almost faster than you can process them. Where are you? Your parents, your sister? What happened?

“What is this? What is this fucking place?”

The pride in Ransom’s eyes makes you want to vomit. “We made it for you. Just for you. It took—how long, Lloyd?”

“A year, give or take.” He rubs his fingers along the growing stubble on his upper lip. “And then finding staff…” He pauses. “The hotel, or just the Room?” The way Lloyd says room makes it sound singular, important. You cannot help but gape at them

“You’re sick—both of you. Y-you—what you did to me—” You shake your head. “A-all of this.” You gesture at the room around you. “For what?” Lloyd threads his fingers together, and you can hear the soft metal click of his rings tapping against each other as he does.

“I know you’re not deaf, Princess. It’s for you.”

Cold trickles down your spine. You’ve been doing it ever since you woke up, running through each moment in the past four, five and cataloguing each one you couldn’t make make sense. You’re doing it again now, thumbing back through the index cards of your memories and finding empty slots. Thanksgivings, Christmases, Easters—Ransom had told you it had been a year, but you can’t trust that, you can’t believe him, not after everything.

“My family won’t let you do this sick fucking shit, you know that.” You spit. “They’re not going to let you kidnap me—”

“How much is Nathalie’s school, Sweetheart?” Ransom asks, cocking his head. “Per year.”

“What?” The question throws you off, the freight train of words in your throat piling up messily on your tongue. “What are you—”

“How much is her tuition?” He repeats it slowly like you’re having trouble understanding him. You bare your teeth at Ransom as you grimace.

“I don’t know. She has a scholarship. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s $63,000.” Ransom gives you the figure so matter-of-factly it’s like he rehearsed it. “Per year.” Your stomach sinks, like your body knows before your head. “What, you didn’t know? No one ever reads the paperwork, do they, Lloyd?” He glances at his brother over his shoulder. “What’s it say on the checks? T. H. B. Inc., doesn’t it?” He licks his lips. “The T stands for Thrombey, Sweetheart.”

You almost want to laugh for the insanity of it all—you even try, but no sound escapes your tight, dry throat. Lloyd nods.

“Same as the ones your father gets. Funny how his company’s picked up these last few years, isn’t it?”

Your fists clench and unclench as you sit there on the floor, staring up at them. There’s nothing left to destroy, nothing left to break except the two of them—and you already know how that ends. Instead, you’re forced to sit there, hot rage coiling in your chest as the realization dawns cold and cutting—

Your family is already bought and paid for, even if they don’t know it.

“I never asked you for this.” You spit, nails biting into the meat of your palms as you press angry fists against the cool tile. “I didn’t ask you for fucking any of this!”

“I promised to make a home for you, didn’t I, Sweetheart?” He squats down in front of you, his hand out like he wants you to take it. “A good husband provides.” It isn’t supposed to feel like being cut into a thousand pieces to hear his wedding vows regurgitated like this. His gaze drops to the ring still on your finger. You hadn’t noticed it until he did, and as he watches, you rip it from your finger with a violent twist, and throw it at him. He actually looks upset at this, a hint of his earlier rage passing over his features like a cloud.

You hate the way it makes your gut wrench because you want him to fucking hurt. It’s like your body hasn’t realized yet just who he is—who they are, and it makes you even angrier. You turn away, loose nightgown bunching under your thighs as you turn to face the wall instead.

“Leave me alone.”

“Not until you eat something.” You aren’t sure if it’s Ransom that speaks, or Lloyd. You press your eyes shut and bite your lips to shutter the angry, frustrated wail that threatens to leap from your throat. “That’s not good for the baby.”

Good for the baby.

Good for the fucking baby.

You want to hate it now; the child growing inside of you, even if only to spite the men standing behind you. But you cannot bring yourself to—and you hate that too.

Shame is not a new feeling, not for you, but it feels new today as you pick apart the plain chicken salad sandwich they had brought for you. Assume it’s drugged. You hate yourself as you tear off chunks with stiff fingers, forcing your mouth open and swallowing it down with a grimace. Assume everything is drugged. When you’re finished, you drag the back of your hand across your mouth roughly, tossing the tray at Lloyd’s feet.

He doesn’t pick it up.

“Good girl.” You shiver. It’s involuntary, and you know he sees it, the way his mouth twitches with the urge to lift into the smug smile you know so well. “Your wish is our command, Princess.”

Ransom bends to pick up the ring wordlessly, and follows his brother out of your room.

—

They don’t come back that night.

You watch the sky outside the glass wall of your prison turn dark, and then brighten again with stars as you sit huddled against it, hugging your knees to your chest. You’re exhausted, but you can’t sleep. Your body won’t let you, jerking you back to wakefulness as soon as your eyelids start to droop. The thoughts won’t stop coming either, cycling through on a loop you can’t seem to stop.

I wonder what Nat’s doing.

I wonder if they’re worried about me.

I wonder what Ransom told them.

You want to pinpoint the time your life went off the rails but you can’t, you don’t know it. College, perhaps?

When you’d met Ransom? Lloyd?

You drag yourself away from the window after a few hours of staring bleakly out at the empty beach. It feels like too much to hope for that someone would happen by, not with the lengths they had clearly taken to secure you. The comforter bleeds feathers as you drag it to the floor beside the bed, wedging yourself between it and the wall. You know you aren’t safe—you’ve little control over that—but the solid press of concrete behind you makes you feel more secure.

It’s what allows you to finally fall asleep, though it is not restful. It feels like you wake every few minutes at every imagined sound, jolting back to consciousness and scanning the still empty room before quickly passing out again. You half expect Lloyd and Ransom to be back, waiting for you to open your eyes but when you finally do, you are still blessedly alone, but for the fresh tray in front of the door.

You wait for a few minutes, just to see if they emerge from your peripheral vision, the places in the room you can’t see from your vantage point—but they don’t. Everything is as it was before, the destruction from your earlier rampage still strewn across the floor. It feels surreal. Slowly, you pick your way across the debris and grasp the tray in your trembling hands. You don’t want to eat it, not really, but your stomach clenches and rumbles at the sight of food as you peek beneath the tray cover.

It isn’t anything special—another sandwich, a bag of chips, and a bottle of water. You check beneath the styrofoam plate just to be sure, there’s no note, no nothing, and you cannot help but wonder when they’ll be back. They’re messing with your head, you know they are—and you hate that it’s working. You’re rattled, upset, anxious—just how they want you.

The urge comes again to pick up the largest piece of anything you can find and smash it against the window until it breaks.

We made it for you.

Your stomach churns with disgust even as you take a greedy bite out of your sandwich. How hadn’t you seen yourself and your family waltzing right into the palms of their hands? How hadn’t you noticed? Lloyd had always been overly interested, overly gracious, even after you’d rejected him, and started dating his brother. You’re reminded of Linda’s curt smile and her slickly delivered barb. You tore them apart without even thinking about it. And Lloyd’s admission…

It was more than a little crush.

You don’t know how to reconcile the madness simmering behind your husbands eyes with the man who’d held your hands and said his vows. As he’d griped your wrists, staring into your eyes with his own fever-bright, you could barely recognize him.

You clean your plate, washing it down with the water before casting another look around the room. It’s blank, empty beyond the few pieces of furniture you hadn’t been able to destroy. No books, no television—nothing. You search the walls near the door panel, looking for something, anything that might make it open, but you find little. The smooth white keyboard does not respond when you push your thumb against the rubbery buttons, and the seam is so narrow you can barely wedge your fingernails into it to try and pry it open.

For hours you walk the perimeter of the room, running your hands along the walls, feeling no breaks in the smooth, cool surface. You have to get out of here—but you don’t even know where here is. How far you are from the resort, if you’re even on the same island. As the room darkens, you realize you’ve been pacing for hours like a caged animal, and neither Ransom nor Lloyd has come to check on you all day. Somehow, the thought fill you with apprehension. Not knowing when they might appear is unnerving, and you suspect they mean it to be.

You thread your fingers through your hair, tugging on it as you watch the sun sink into the sea, a panicked, claustrophobic feeling rising in your chest until you realize you aren’t breathing. You can’t stay here like this, you can’t—

Before you realize it you’re running for the door, beating your fists wildly against the panel.

“Let me out! Let me the fuck out of here!” Your frenzied wailing rings in your own ears. It’s like you’re numb to the pain as you swing with all your might. You’re aware-even if only dimly—of the fact that your fists will be sore and aching later, bruised and beat to a pulp but you don’t care. Not if it gets you out—not if it gets you away from them.

“Ransom! Ransom let me out! You can’t fucking keep me here! You can’t!”

Nothing happens. The door doesn’t budge, and there is no answer to your increasingly panicked demands. You scream for hours. Until you’re hoarse, and your trembling fists ache to raise above your shoulders. Still, you bang your open palms against the panel as your firm insistence becomes a stream of nonsense pleas.

“Please, please don’t do this, if you l-loved me y-you wouldn’t do this!” Tears and snot run down your face as you collapse to your knees, exhausted. “Please.” You mumble, curling in on yourself in front of the door. The tears come again, and you don’t even try to stop them, sobbing open-mouthed on the cold tile, your hands fisting in your nightgown.

“Please.”

You lay there until the room goes dark.

—

“I hate seeing her like this.” The cameras are good—too good. He can see the pain on your face too clearly, hear the betrayal in your voice just a bit too well through the speakers.

“You think I like it?” Lloyd asks irritatedly, and Ransom sighs. “She’ll even out soon. If not, you can up the mood stabilizer. She’s cleared for it until the second trimester.” Ransom knows his brother, knows that’s his version of comforting reassurance. “Besides, you’re the one that decided to play keep-away.”

Ransom looks at the camera again, at your softly moving shoulders. He’s both thankful and irritated at the hair covering your pretty face—but at least it blocks the sight of your tears. As he watches, you shudder—like you’re still crying, even in your sleep.

“I know. We have to make her grateful. For us.” He says, still looking at the screen. And he does. He understands the necessity of it—it was his plan, almost more than Lloyd’s. “I still hate it.”

“I don’t anticipate she’ll keep it up more than a week. Two, tops.” For the most part, Ransom has seldom ever found himself envious of his twin, but now he felt his lip curl with irritated jealousy at Lloyd’s confidence. “Don’t worry little brother,” he grins. “Our Princess will love us again.” He turns back to the cameras. “I’m sure of it.”

To be continued…

next chapter

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

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apollodarling-writes · 1 year

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pls that one pulse motion fic pt2 with könig or ghost from cod I am BEGGING 😭😭🙏🙏 any reader idc I JUST NEED MOREEETETE

tws: possessive behavior, slight delusional behavior, reader is cornered, konig uses intimdation tactics, very obvious threats, slight manipulation??, kind of bloodthirsty könig, mentions of creeps, könig bypasses his coding and his eyes change :)) lmk if i missed anything.

you glide the tips of your fingers against the scratchy material of könig’s arm, marveling at how sturdy his bicep was with burning cheeks. in his left hand was a manila folder titled handling and instructions. you pry it out of his grasp, struggling a bit against his stiff grip, but succeed in acquiring it. you settle beside him, sitting in a position most comfortable for prolonged seating, and scan over the instructions.

you flip through a few pages, going over what all your cyborg needs to be properly functional, finding that he only really need charging once a week and he will inform you of any updates that he needs. könig doesn’t require any food, but he is able to eat if be so desires. basic information about updates, coding instructions for people who are into that, blah blah blah…

"ah! there it is."

you follow the instructions step by step. first, press and hold the button on the top of his head for five seconds. you lift his mask, turning your head and blindly sifting through locks of his hair to find said button. it takes you a few frustrating minutes to find the small button embedded at the very top of his scalp, huffing as you push it. you quickly place his sniper hood back into place, keeping your eyes elsewhere. second, state your first and last name. third, state your preferred pronouns and state your use for him. then, enjoy!

you hear a faint hum as the cyborg whirrs to life, eyes lighting up behind his sniper hood and taking in his surroundings.

“you must be [name].” könig says, a thick german accent showing in his vowels. könig stands and you follow suit, extending a hand with a giddy smile.

“yes, that’s me. it’s a pleasure to meet you.” you murmur, dazed at how tall he was compared to you. the two of you spend the rest of the day getting to know each other, finding that you get along swimmingly, and when you turn in for the night, you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

months fly by with the large man by your side, your crush on him growing more and more apparent by the day. you felt a little perverted— he was a cyborg. wouldn’t it be wrong to be with him? did he even feel the same way? and so, to move on with your life, you decide to find someone else, downloading a dating app while sitting in the living room and setting up your profile.

swipe after swipe after swipe, you struggle find someone that matches your preferences. after another thirty minutes, you finally find someone. ecstatic, you quickly swipe right and within minutes the two of you matched. the conversation goes exceptionally well and with the two of you hitting it off quickly, you set up a date for tomorrow night.

“what are you doing?” königs voice startles you, sounding slightly strained. you flinch at the sudden appearance, spinning around and excitedly telling him about your plans for tomorrow evening. könig is oddly quiet after that.

“…könig?” your voice sounds small as he slowly rounds the corner of the couch, his footsteps silent as he moves. he comes to a halt in front of you, leaning down as his breathing grows labored.

“why would you go out with that… man when you have me?” könig grits out as he places each arm on either side of you, caging you between his broad chest and the cushions of the couch. your eyes grow wide, your throat drying up as he utters his next sentence. “oh, i see. you’re just playing hard to get aren’t you? you wanted me to be jealous, didn’t you?”

könig straightens up, laughing a bit before his eyes narrow. “if you go out with that man tomorrow, who knows what will happen, kleiner hase*. you don’t want to find out… do you? it will be on your hands after all.”

könig’s hand shoots out and snatches your wrist, your mind reeling. wasn’t there coding that prevented this? surely he couldn’t have altered his coding… right? you have to send him back. you need to get him fixed and maybe you’ll even keep him gone altogether. this isn’t-

“schätzen*, you chose me. that means you love me, right?” the cyborg’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. your eyes instinctively meet his, realizing that what once glowed with the company’s symbol was now not glowing at all, and in fact looked as if the symbol had never been there in the first place. how was this even possible…?

a shiver ran down your spine as könig’s eyes squint behind his mask— seemingly smiling. you hadn’t been aware of his intimidating presence before, even when he protected you from creeps on your grocery runs. but now that you were on the receiving end, you couldn’t help but regret ever letting your friend talk you into this.

notes:

*kleiner hase — little bunny

*schätzen — treasure

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danikamariewrites · 1 year

Note

Can you please do fem reader x injured Manon?

Iron Nails and Pale Skin

Manon x reader

Warnings: descriptions of injuries, angst

Vesta lead you down the hall to the infirmary. You could see the healers rushing in and out, their arms full of supplies to stop Manon’s bleeding. When one of them came out, her apron drenched in blood you picked up your pace passing Vesta.

In your hurry to get into the room you crashed into a healer. You didn’t bother apologizing as you pushed past to get to the giant clump at the far end. Manon was on that bed. You needed to see her with your own eyes.

When Vesta burst into your chamber fifteen minutes ago to tell you Manon was gravely injured you didn’t hear anything else she said. You just blindly ran out the door, your mind going blank and your body moving like you’d been possessed.

You couldn’t lose her. Life wouldn’t be worth living if Manon was gone.

Pushing through the clump of healers your eyes landed on Manon’s injuries. You were almost sick on the spot.

The pale skin of her stomach was shredded. You got flashbacks to when the Blackbeak matron did the same thing, but this time it was worse. There was almost no skin left. You had never seen her writhe in pain like this. Manon had never liked to show weakness.

You knelt next to her cot as the healers rushed around her trying to mend the skin. Grabbing one of her hands you squeezed until Manon squeezed back. There were tears flowing from your eyes quickly. Your face contorted in pain for your girlfriend.

“Manon please,” you whispered frantically, “please I need you.” The Witch Queen slightly turned her face towards you. Those burnt gold eyes full of pain. It broke your heart to see her like this. She was always the strong one.

Manon’s grip began to weaken on your hand and you started screaming. “Manon please!” You heard one of the healers say something behind you but you didn’t register what she said. All you heard was your pleading screams for Manon to stay with you.

Next thing you knew Asterin’s arms were lifting you up, pulling you away from Manon. You thrashed against her screaming for Asterin to let you go. You didn’t stop until she put you down in your chambers using all her strength to keep your arms pinned to your side.

You bared your teeth at Asterin, growling through your tears. “Let me go gods damn it!” “I can’t do that, y/n. We need to let the healers work.” You could see the pain in her face.

Your knees buckled as you let out a sob. Asterin caught you, bringing you to the floor carefully. You gripped her tunic as she let you cry on her. It felt like you were there for hours. You didn’t stop crying until your throat was raw.

You were lifeless in her arms. It was well past sundown when the head healer came to give you an update. Manon was stable. They managed to heal her but the scars were still healing.

You jumped up from the floor, rushing out the door again before Asterin could stop you.

When you entered the infirmary it was much calmer. Only a few healers and Manon cleaned and resting. You put your hand over your mouth holding back another cry.

You sit on the edge of her bed and hold her hand gently. You stay with her all night. When she finally stirs the sun just started rising. You held your breath as she blinked her eyes open. Manon groaned, wincing at her bandaged stomach.

She tried to sit up but you gently placed a hand on her shoulder forcing Manon to stay down. “Absolutely not. Your skin is still healing, it could rip if you move.” She groaned again. “Can you let up on my hand, baby.” “Oh, sorry.” You softly lay her pale, slender hand back down on the cot.

Manon gave you tired smile. “You look tired. Have you slept.” You scowled at her. “Of course I haven’t. I’ve been worried sick about you. Manon I thought,” you choked on your words. You didn’t even want to say it. “I thought you were going to die.” You shook your head as new tears fell.

Manon reached a shaking hand up to wipe your tears away. “But I’m right here baby. And I’m not going anywhere.” “Promise?”

“I promise.” You rest your head on her chest to listen to her slow beating heart. Manon was here. She’s alive. And you were never letting her go.

#throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass fic #throne of glass manon #manon x reader #manon blackbeak #manon fanfic #manon blackbeak x reader #manon blackbeak angst #manon x you #manon blackbeak x you

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animeyanderelover · 1 year

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Hi, can i request Narancia Ghigra with the prompt 56?

I changed the Prompt lightly because his Stand fits very well with this. Also, studies have started once again for me so expect slower updates since I'm going to be busy.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusion, clinginess, abduction

Prompt 56

You had miscalculated. You hadn't known that he would return a whole two hours earlier than he had just told you this morning, the prospect of leaving you clearly upsetting him. Because if you would have known, you would have planned everything differently. Painstaking days of scheming how to escape from the mobster, indulging him in his delusions to earn his trust, sneaking around the house to carefully collect and hide the things you would need to break free.

Practicing how to pick open locks when he was gone so that everything would go smoothly the next time he would have to leave you for his next mission. Successfully convincing him to only lock up the doors, a minimum of security. All this hard work, all the act of being nice to him. Only for him to prove to you once again that you truly couldn't count on him.

A fleeting image of colors was all he could see from the corner of his eyes when he returned before it disappeared into the dark streets, leaving him standing there shocked for a second or two before his purple eyes shifted to your home. The door gaping wide open, a sloppy move you wouldn't have committed if he had just come back home later, only leaving you with the option to run as fast as you could.

One second of silence. Two seconds of silence. Three seconds of silence.

"(y/n)!! (y/n), please don't do this!!"

Lowly dimmed street lanters which barely allowed you to figure out where you were even going. To you that didn't matter though as long as you could get away from him and out of this town as soon as possible. It was your only goal.

At night the streets reminded you of a maze more than anything, you took countless turns left and right to shake your pursuer off, the quickening footsteps behind you and the hysteric cries ringing in your ears fueling you on. Long forgotten had been your plan to try to find the outskirts of the town as you lost count of how many times you turned left and right, running blindly around. It seemed to pay off though as eventually the footsteps behind you faded and so did his voice yet you still didn't dare to turn around. Your legs just kept on running and running until eventually you stopped, feeling nauseous and dizzy all together as you leaned against one of the walls, heart burning in your chest and your ears ringing. You couldn't allow yourself to rest though as you quickly looked around, eyes squinting together as you tried to spot even the slightest hint of Narancia around you.

Only darkness seemed to be there though. Darkness and utter silence. The silence should have been soothing but in this situation it frightened you as the abyss of any noises was nearly deafening, causing your own heartbeat to sound like thunder. Moments of silence passed by where you flinched even at the slightest of sounds yet nothing happened.

Had you lost him? If yes, would it be wiser to continue running or stay for now here and wait? What if he would find you again if you were to continue running? But he could just as well catch you if you would stay still.

Making a decision had never seemed more difficult to you than right now as you stood there, pressed against a wall and thinking about what would be the best move. Every time you were a milisecond away from making up your mind, doubts started to fill your mind again, plunging you back into the dangerous circle of overthinking. Your freedom depended on this situation, an insane pressure.

"(y/n)! (y/n), you're here, aren't you?"

Your train of thoughts was shattered when you heard his voice, sounding out of breath and indicating that he must have run around like a maniac this entire time. His voice didn't sound too far away and you knew almost instantly that if you would try to run away now, he would most definitely spot you. He was surely out of breath but you were quite tired yourself and not confident that you could outrun him.

So you did the nextbest thing to hide from him as you moved deeper into the alleyway, back pressed against the wall so you wouldn't be spotted by him. There were no lights at all and your heart dropped when you realized that you had entered a dead end, your leg bumping against something solid. When the smell hit your nose, you knew that it was a trash can. You quickly crawled around it, making yourself as small as possible to not be seen if Narancia would pass this alleyway by. It was terribly frustrating but the only thing you could do now was praying, praying that he wouldn't check out this small passage. All your plans thrown out of the window and wasted thoughts only, now all you could do was rely on luck. It was unfair.

He had gotten quieter and that scared you, you could only make out his footsteps from somewhere near you yet he didn't utter a sound anymore, focused.

"(y/n), let's-let's just talk about this all, alright? I'm sorry if I did something to anger you. But if you just tell me what made you so upset, I'll try to make you happy again and fix the problem."

Your problem was Narancia himself but you knew that he would never accept your truth as his own obsession kept him from realizing the truth. He was demented.

"Sweetheart...where are you hiding? Come out, come out, wherever you are."

He was met with the same deafening silence, one that consumed this night as not even a breeze was heard.

"Babe, please don't do this. I don't want to use ropes and handcuffs again to tie you down when I'm gone."

Your wrists throbbed upon recalling the rough material against your sensitive skin, peeling it away and leaving you with burning marks at the end of he day. Narancia had never intended to harm you but then again, he had also been the one who had kidnapped you and had tied you up in the first place so you had little sympathy when he apologized with tears in his eyes, trying clumsily to bandage your wounds and apply ointment on it to help the healing process.

You gave no answer, only made yourself smaller. You didn't want to return. You simply couldn't.

He had stopped moving, you could tell by the absence of footsteps which spiked your anxiety. He was standing in front of the alleyway, an unknown sensation crawling up your spine that caused your skin to erupt in goosebumps, your hair standing just as much on edge as your nerves did in that moment.

"I'll find you anyways. I can see your breathing."

What did he mean by that? You didn't know but you felt yourself only that far away from crying when you heard him stepping into the alleyway as the feeling of defeat settled in. He had found you. You didn't know how and why but you knew he had even before he spoke up with a shaky tone.

"Let's stop this and just go home together, okay?"

You remained frozen in your position though, a wave of despair crushing you as you bit down on the insides of your cheeks infuriated. You had failed.

#yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere jojo no kimyou na bouken #yandere jjba #yandere golden wind #yandere narancia #yandere narancia ghirga

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aaaaaaaaagenloser · 10 months

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(Tw: kinda transphobia? Use of it/its for a character who hasn’t declared what their pronouns are yet. Arguments over whether a character is a person or not; that ties into the pronoun thing here. Bonus points for descriptions of canon-typical gore yipeeee)

An update from after writing this: oh this. Got. This one got away from me?? I think I started this at 4 minutes past the hour. It is now 43 minutes past the hour. shitt.

Update; it is now 17 minutes after the NEXT hour. 26 minutes after th last update. I have seen god in the past hour and she shook in fear of both my power and audacity. I have lunch with my family scheduled in like 6 hours and I have not yet slept. This wasn’t meant to be as long as it is but I was possessed and this is the result. I may edit it and make it smoother later but I’ll make that a separate post, I want this sleep-deprived chunk of words to be here as like a monument to the fact that I could have been playing stardew valley during this time but I chose to do this instead

TLDR: long ass story ahead written by a sleep-deprived and hyperfixation-driven author. Who is now going the fuck to BED

“We can’t just keep it! What if it has a tracking device? It won’t let us fucking touch it so there’s no way of knowing it has one unless it leads them right to us!”

“Ok, I hear you but think. That hasn’t happened yet. It’s been about what, three days? and that hasn’t happened, and they haven’t been violent towards any of us at all. They haven’t tried to go back either, so there’s no risk of them telling or leading Showfall where we are.”

“Why do you keep calling it ‘they’?”

“Well they can’t be an “it” now can it? …wait.”

“Ok can we figure out the gender of the thing in the other room after we figure out if it’s a threat to us or not. It’s not even a fucking person, you remember what those things did to you back there, don’t you?”

“Those people were not themselves, they were just doing what he wanted them to do—“

“They’re not fucking people! Those things are all part of Showfall, just like Hetch was! It’s just waiting for the right time to turn us in, or pull some shit on one of us like they did before.”

“They weren’t… they weren’t in control.”

“Yeah like fuck they weren’t, I saw it fucking happen!”

“You can’t just… Ok. Sneeg. Stop. You don’t speak for me, the one who, oh I don’t know, was the one that shit happened to? They were being controlled just like us—“

“No, no, not like us. We were wandering around and not knowing what the fuck was happening. None of us knew what was happening. We just went along blindly. Those things—on purpose—dragged you to that stupid wall and sewed wires into your hands—“

“Shut up, Sneeg—“

“No you shut up! You didn’t see it fucking happen! I saw them and Bitchface literally hold you down until you passed out! They were fucking choking you, they fucking—they nearly fucking killed you with just their hands, that’s not a little suggestion in the back of your brain, that’s on purpose! That is fucking deliberate, that is a thing those machines chose to do! You don’t remember, you weren’t conscious when they fucking stapled you to the wall and strapped your head in—“

Sneeg glanced at Ranboo for a moment in-between pacing as he ranted, and the far away look in their sibling’s eyes shut them up immediately. Ranboo was still present, thank fuck, but they were looking at their brother like he was holding up a knife to their throat.

“Fuck, Ran, okay, okay—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… shit. Do you need Charlie?”

“You don’t know when to shut the fuck up.”

“…okay. Okay. I’m sorry. Do you need me to get Charlie?”

“No, I’m fucking fine.” It did not sound like he meant that at all. His voice was less steady than before. “I don’t want him to worry about our… hitchhiker. He’s worrying enough about… well, everything.”

“The fact that it’s here, so close to us is the reason I’m trying to get you to see, Ran. What if it turns on him? What if it does that shit to him when we aren’t there?”

“We will be there.”

“And when it tries anything, we can kill it?”

“Sneeg!”

“You wouldn’t kill it, even if it hurt our fucking brother?”

“Of course we wouldn’t keep them around if they did that, could we at least just… just leave it behind? …wait, no, they couldn’t take care of themselves. If we had to leave it behind, maybe we should…”

Silence lingered for a bit too long.

“We should what, Ran?”

“…Sneeg, I was about to say that killing it would be a mercy.” The Hero laughed. “Doesn’t that sound familiar?”

The Taken didn’t reply.

“We have to help them. I don’t… I don’t want to be on the other end of a mercy killing. I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”

“Okay. I’m—are you okay?”

“…m fine. It’s fine. Just. Can you stop acting like they’re any different from us? Please.”

“What do you want me to think then?” His voice was softer than it had been a few minutes before.

“Just assume that they… that they were someone. Just like we were before. And they didn’t… they didn’t do anything on their own, it was all Showfall.”

“Okay. Fine. Let’s assume they were controlled, they didn’t mean to, so on and so forth. Why haven’t they talked yet.”

“I don’t think any of the drones even could talk. Wait, should we really be calling them a drone—“

“Shut the fuck up, Ranboo, we have got to figure out what to do with it. It probably doesn’t even know what is happening, what the fuck does it matter what we call it.”

“It matters to me! Do you want me to call you by your title? Do you want to call me by mine? …No? Then why are we treating them like all they are is what Showfall made them? We had lives before, we were someone, so they must have been too. They might not realize it, or… or act like it, but they used to be someone. They are a whole person, Sneeg. We have to help them, we can’t just leave them behind because that would mean we are giving up on someone just like us, and we cannot give up on each other. They… they would have hurt us by now if they were going to. And Showfall hasn’t found us since… you know, which means there aren’t any more trackers.

…okay, Sneeg?”

“…okay. If it,” he sighed at the look Ran gave them, “if they try anything, we have to leave them behind. I’m not letting a dumbass puppet be the reason we get taken back.”

“If they—ok, whatever, you’re not understanding. You can’t say one of us somehow wanted to be controlled, and they’re a ‘puppet’ but those rules don’t apply to the rest of us—“

“There is not an ‘us,’ Ran! That thing isn’t like us!”

“Guys?”

A sleepy voice shut the two of them up instantly. They had a split-second conversation with their eyes before looking to their brother. ‘We aren’t done talking about this’ ‘You’e absolutely right, so later?’ ‘Later.’ ‘We’re telling Charlie nothing happened?’ ‘Of course.’ ‘Ok good plan.’

“Why are you two fighting? I’m tired, can we please go back to sleep?”

“We weren’t fighting, we were…”

“…talking about plans for tomorrow. And you can go back to sleep.”

“I don’t want to be by myself.” Charlie looked at Sneeg pointedly, who sighed to Ranboo with a playfully annoyed expression.

“Well I guess I gotta go be a teddy bear again.”

“Have fun”

“Absolutely not.”

Charlie punched Sneeg in the shoulder lightly for that, who just giggled in response and led his little brother back to their room.

Which left Ran by themselves.

Some nights, he would join them, but some nights Charlie couldn’t stand to be anywhere near Ran, and the three of them had made a silent mutual agreement that Charlie trusted Sneeg more than he did Ranboo.

…Ranboo was okay with this. He wasn’t hurt by it. He didn’t cry on the nights he slept by himself.

He didn’t wish he could be the one Sneeg comforted sometimes. They were just fine.

They were fine, which is why they went to the living room where their… well. Their hitchhiker? They weren’t exactly a brother, or a sibling, more like a fourth wheel on a tricycle. Or a flyaway hair. Okay, maybe Ranboo needed to get tbr fuck to sleep, alone or not.

But he found himself in the living room, where their hitchhiker slept. Or, didn’t sleep, as they seemed to not need to. They would sit on the couch and stare idly at the tv. That was what had started the whole conversation with Sneeg in the first place; Ran wanted to leave some kind of entertainment for the fourth person so they wouldn’t be made to sit in the dark for hours. Sneeg took this remark as a perfect opportunity to explain all the reasons why the former drone should be abandoned, but Ranboo would have fucking none of it. Maybe the couch potato (shit, he really needed to come up with a name for them—) didn’t seem to sleep, barely ate, and stayed still unless actually verbally told to move, but they were still a person. Ranboo was sure of it.

Their hand wandered up to the fresh scabs where their mask had been. The fourth person had a mask, one that hadn’t been touched. Despite usually staying still, the person—(Ranboo thinks they might just call this person Couch for now. Maybe it’s not accurate, and they’re tired, but it’s something. C, for short.)

C would back away any time the others would try to get near them. And they did in fact try, but despite how creative or sneaky they got, C always ducked away. It reminded Ranboo of the drone who had followed them with a camera, always one step away and never letting the Hero get too close.

The mask turned to Ranboo, who stared back quietly. C hadn’t talked at all, so Ranboo didn’t expect them to suddenly start now. He wasn’t even sure if they understood what was said to them, but Ranboo wanted to try anyways. Better to be polite.

“Do you like the show that’s on? I think it’s called Lucy, or something. I don’t know, Sneeg said it was funny. And it didn’t seem, uh- scary or anything.”

The mask didn’t speak.

“If you want to change it, the remote’s right there, um, I showed you how to use it before. And there’s like, instructions drawn on there. You can thank Charlie for that one.”

…

“I think I’m going to head to bed.”

…

“Fuck it, can I stay here?”

The mask still didn’t speak, but the head hidden behind it tilted a bit at the sudden change in tone. Ranboo took this as an absolute win.

“So I just. I don’t want to be by myself. And I don’t think you sleep, I mean if you just sleep when everyone else is asleep that’s cool, but also if so how do you even? function? on that much sleep? It really isn’t that much but to be fair you don’t do much so maybe you don’t need it. …do you sleep sitting up? And just somehow wake up when we get close? I know, um. Sorry about that, again, we were just worried your mask had a tracker like mine used to.”

Ran laughed nervously. “I think I did convince them that it doesn’t, so that should stop now. If um. If we make you uncomfortable you still don’t have to be touched, it’s, it’s fine.”

Other than the head tilt before, there wasn’t a reply.

“Okay, since. You can’t talk, I’m just gonna… I’ll sit down beside you. On the couch. And if you don’t want me to be that close you can uh- you can leave. Or like, get up, and then I’ll leave. This is the only room with a tv, so I’ll let you stay here, but I can’t tell if you want me to be here or not, so. Okay, sorry, I’m rambling. Just… move if you want me to leave, okay?”

Ranboo waited for a response that didn’t come, then sighed. “Okay.” He kept his hands up and open while sitting down, waiting for a few moments before tucking his feet under himself to get more comfortable. “I’m just gonna stay here, okay? Like I said, just move if you want me to leave.”

The mask had tracked them to where they sat now, but the person—C—didn’t make a move to leave. Ranboo turned their attention to the tv, keeping an eye on their couch partner in their peripheral vision. During a moment of audience laughter in the show—I Love Lucy, they remembered—C turned their head back to the television as they had been before Ranboo walked in.

Seeing as how C (they needed a better name than that—) didn’t speak, this was the closest Ranboo could get to being told “you can stay here.” So they did. A few episodes later, his head was on the arm of the couch and his eyes were closed.

Five turned its attention to the Hero, who was now asleep. He had said it was a person, which was almost hilarious. And the Taken and the Hero seemed to think it couldn’t talk? They had to know it needed to be given permission first: any handler of a Drone or Prop knew that basic rule. It would wait until permission was given: it knew how to obey. It wasn’t meant to speak to a superior unless it was told it was allowed. It would wait.

…in the meantime, it studied its handler, the Hero. The other Actors, their two other handlers, called him ‘Ranboo’ but Five knew that wasn’t his actual label. The Hero was his character in the last show, and so that is who he was. Five didn’t know if Actors had a number, but he had been called the Hero in the script, and so the Hero he will be until the script changes.

It hoped to get new instructions, a new script for itself, something, soon. It was tired of simply watching the Actors go about their incredibly off-script show. It was sometimes told to participate, and since no other superiors were nearby, it had to obey its current handlers. But it was told to participate, to stir eggs, to help clean the kitchen, to attack small webs in corners with a stick with soft spikes on the end. Those sorts of things weren’t it’s usual directive, and so it found itself…

It didn’t resent its handlers. They were doing their best, and they at least knew that they were meant to give it orders. It simply wished they were familiar orders. It wished the Hero had told it to play dead, or play chase, or play camera, or caught, or prop. It would even listen if it was told to power down until needed. At least then it wouldn’t have to be conscious in this boring and unfamiliar set.

Y EA I know they probably don’t like tvs. Shhhhhh. I didn’t think about that until like. I had already written the tv part. At this moment it is 55 minutes past th hour and I want these characters to go the fuck to sleep so I can go thr fuck to sleep /lh

And yeah Five only uses “he” for glran. That is intentional. It’ll be talked about and shit later. Something about being put into a role, something about showfall being transphobic, something something I want to go to bed

Powering down = “sleeping” for a drone. Different but similar. I’ll explain how it works later?, anyway The others hav e told Five to “sleep” but it doesn’t understand because it is only ever told to “power down” so it’s like error.sleep_not_found and it stares at them like “bitch you said the wrong. Thing. You’re supposed to know how to control me so you don’t want me to power down I fucking guess” and it’s gonna be really funny after that miscommunication is taken care of.

If you remember the Five Gets A Cold And Wants To Throw Hands With Everyone post, this is wayyy before that. These motherfuckers are fresh out of showfall. Don’t ask how they got a house. I’ll figure it out

I am! Tired! I’m not proofreading this!! Goodnight please give me your thoughts if you have them. I need to know I didn’t sacrifice tbis much sleep in vain /nf /lh (I appreciate words but you are Not required to give them. Love you have a good nigt/p)

#five the genloss blorbo #let’s not talk about how many tries it took me to spell unobserved. let’s simplynot #update like 5 years into me writing this: i also cannot spell the word peepohe it would seem #that. that was meant to be the word People. you can see m #h my point stands #it is late as fuck yet I Have to make this. it has to exist so I must make it exist #I’m hamilton writing like I’m running out of time but I’m writing g #writing 51 essays in which assorted characters get the physical and/or emotional shit beaten out of them #and me running out of time is running out of sleepy. I am a sleep y man #take a break and get away says my pillow. I am Hamilton my pillow is upstate and this goddam mess of a short story I am trying to write is M #this story is Mariah Reyndolds leading me to her bed .#I haven’t slept in a while and I’m hyperfixationed on Hamilton so that metaphor makes. 0 sense #if you’re reading this far I’m so sorry. have a cookie! and fun fact an old lady held my hand and s #she said my (Very Androgynous!!) haircut is perfect. she used those words #i almost cried right then and there. genuine compliments from people make my fucking day . ok I need to go back to editing thisthing now #I wrote it. changed a plot point. started to rewrite it. changed ANOTHER plot point #so now I’ve got several s #several layers of Oh Shit I have to untangle #im. making my own goddam escape au apparently????? it won’t make any fucking sense but I will explain it later.#and! feel free to ask questions!’ and tell me if it make’s absolutely 0 sense #I do in fact want to be able to tell the story in a way you will understand. so ask questions! give a feedback! /gen /pos #I accidentally. deleted a tag so whatever I was going to say is fucking gone now. oh I think I memerbr #they are out of character ye. I’m sleepy and I’m making their escape au up as I go.#so far I have 1) the box scene was somehow Worse #2) they kidnapped Five (yippee!)#3) Charlie is the most traumatized out of the three. I don’t. I don’t know why.#I think that’s mostly because I didn’t feel like writing a conversation between Three characters. so my brain was like this :#why isn’t Charlie here? sleeping. why are these two not including him in conversation? protectiveness.#why protectiveness? he is the most upset out of the three of them and the other two have basically taken up the caretaker role. great plan #great plan hit the showers. I have reached. max tags. shit oh well back to writing tumblr says so!

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archivyrep · 2 years

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Two "keepers of secrets" in fiction

In their glossary of tropes, #ArchivesInFiction talks about a "popular trope in which the Archivist is portrayed as an unapproachable curmudgeon who views the archives as their own personal fiefdom and is therefore protective of their records and their knowledge" which they call "keeper of secrets." In this post I'd like to highlight some of those people, as I know them, in series I've seen up to this point. Even tough the second example isn't a curmudgeon, he still is protective over records in his care but for a different reason.

Reprinted from my Wading Through the Cultural Stacks WordPress blog. Originally published on Jun. 24, 2021.

Star Wars: Attack of the Clones

This is the quintessential example of this trope and it was the subject of one my first posts on this blog. Putting aside the archives-library confusion in this film, which I, of course, wrote a whole post about, Madame Jocasta Nu, seemingly the Jedi Archives lone arranger, first asks Obi-Wan if he needs help, but then declares the archives are totally immutable, thinking there is no way that anyone could tamper with the records. Don't they have records management tools or something to check the records? Why do they blindly trust that no one tampered with the records? After finding that Kamino DOES exist, was there any consequences for her? I sure hope so. There is no doubt that she, and the archives, were of little help to Obi-Wan, who was faulted for chasing something that didn't exist.

I have to disagree with what then-SAA President Randall Jimmerson said about the film: "George Lucas presents a more confident view of archives." How in the world can that be the case? Isn't this view of an archives very cynical? I mean, I'm taking away from this that archives shouldn't be totally trusted. And also the fact that if items do not appear in archival records, they do exist.

However, I can agree with him that this vision definitely "shows the limits of archival control" and the illusion of the power of the archivist, who has a powerful and crucial role.

Other than this, in that post, Samantha Cross is right to call Nu a person of experience and age, and says that her confidence and complacency are worrisome,and argues there "a distinct lack of scrutiny and curiosity in Jocasta that’s endemic throughout the Republic." In that post I also noted that she served as Archives Director for over 30 years, formerly on the Jedi Council for 10 years, and that she was reliant on data of the Jedi Archives. This also makes clear the impression, for archivists, that everything in their collections is, as I noted in that post, all there is, that they have everything, that records could not be tampered with, which is absurd, to say the least.

Nu sort of reminds me of Filis in Tri-Squad VoiceDrama, who is also a lone arranger. Currently, there are almost 300 fics which feature Nu on Archive of Our Own. However, only ONE fic specifically mentions her as an archivist, and even that fic doesn't seem that positive to me, when it comes to archives, from what I can tell. [1] I did like this one (even though it slightly confuses libraries and archives) where she wonders what is hidden from them:

... Two hours later, having returned the youngling - Charzi, of Pod Kwinn - to her teachers, Jocasta was staring at the blank space on what should have been a top of the line star map of the entire known galaxy. It was the best known star map of the galaxy, being updated daily as new information came in from the exploratory corps and other private enterprises. And yet, she was staring at clear proof that someone had sabotaged her archives. No, not her archives. Pride and possessiveness were traits unbefitting a Master of her years and discipline. Still, this was a problem that needed to be rectified immediately. ... Jocasta’s eyebrows went up, but the scouting and exploring of a newly discovered system and interacting with the locals respectfully were long accepted parts of the Trials for those who chose the archival path. ... She was going to need to audit the entire library. Top to bottom just to see what else they’d missed. It was going to take years, even if the entire Education Corps and Archivists worked on it. Which they would be. ... Jocasta stared at the archives, gaze scanning over the shelves and shelves of books, scrolls, datapads. What else was being hidden from them?

I think one fic writer put it well, that after the Kamino incident, she "made a whole whack of archive backups and stashed them in increasingly unlikely places, which allowed at least some to survive long enough for Rey to get to them," adding that you don't get to be "Head Archivist by being casual about data integrity and backups, especially once you've been shown a problem!"

The same issues with Nu also are somewhat reflected in the animated series, although you could argue the series is a bit more fair.

The Joker

Carl, the records clerk, first shown. Look at those Hollinger boxes in the background! The records are being stored correctly in this scene. Did they consult any archivists when making this film? I sure hope so.

The archivist, er actually records custodian/clerk named Carl (voiced by Brian Tyree Henry) is not a curmudgeon but he really wants to stick to the rules. As I noted in the post, Arthur Fleck wants to get records about his mother,but the records clerk lugs in a heavy storage box and does some digging for Fleck. He ultimately, however, says he can't give the file to Fleck without the right forms, saying he needs his mom to sign a "patient disclosure form." Fleck won't stand for this, and he ultimately grabs the file and runs away.

Apart from the metal gate itself symbolizing, as I noted in the post, the division between those who can access records and those who can't, there are other takeaways from this. For one, in this film, the records center is literally part of the system which is oppressing people. Secondly, the clerks are prevented by bureaucracy from providing patrons with access to records in a fair, equitable, and efficient way. Thirdly,is the division between those who can access the records and those who can't access the records. I wish more series and fiction would discuss this, but sadly, they do not.

Notes

[1] This expands when you only use the term "archives," with some only mentioning it in passing as "Jedi Archives," (same here, here, here, here, here, and here), another which confused libraries and archives sadly, along with those about flirting in the archives, one more specifically about her, missing records, various archivists, interactions between Nu and Jedi, surprise in the archives, finding a stray Padawan in the archives, vastness of information there, Anakin meeting Nu, and her dying during Order 66.

#keepers #star wars #attack of the clones #jocasta nu #tropes #archives #archival science #archival studies #the joker #samantha cross #pop archives #pop culture #reviews #order 66 #tri squad voice drama #ao3 #fan fics #kamino #brian tyree henry

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bonky-n-steeb · 3 years

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none like you (ii)

— football player! bucky barnes x sports physio! reader

summary || Bucky Barnes has it all — money, success, looks, fame, women. But when he falls in love with the only woman who doesn’t love him, he starts wondering if he really has it all.

warnings || idiots in love. friends with benefits. fake dating. unprotected sex. sensual sex. oral sex. love making. petname (pumpkin). jealous bucky. possessive bucky. smut. angst. fluff. (the holy trinity) — MINORS DNI

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this is one of favourite things I’ve ever written and I really really hope you like this ;)

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You groaned and buried your head in the pillow as your phone rang loudly on the bedside table. Your hand blindly searched for it until you finally found the buzzing phone.

You were dead asleep when the phone had started going off. You checked the time on the digital watch and the red digits blared 1:00.

You picked up the phone only to see the last person who’d ever call you at this time — Bucky Barnes.

“Hello!” Your voice was a little scratchy after sleeping and you cleared your throat a bit. You were still on your stomach as you held the phone to your ear lazily.

“Be my girlfriend!”

You choked on your spit when you heard Bucky mutter those words. You turned around in your bed and rubbed your eyes, “What?!”

“I know this sounds super weird, but I really really want you to be my girlfriend.” You could hear your heart beating in your chest when you heard him say this.

“Bucky, are you drunk? Or have you fallen on your head?” It had been around three days since you two had fucked in the locker room and after that you hadn’t heard anything from him and now this call.

“You know I don’t drink!” Bucky was very health conscious and you did know that he didn’t consume alcohol. “I know Bucky, but I didn’t really take you for a man who’d propose right after I slept with you one time.”

“No it’s not that. But for the next two days I just need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.” You suddenly became somewhat upset that you just had to pretend.

“Why?” At this point you were confused with the unfolding events. “Ummm, my mom is coming here to visit me and… Uhh, I kinda lied to her about… you know,.. dating someone a few months back and.. now I need someone to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up in your throat. He was so bashful and shy while asking, unlike you had ever seen him before. Also it was a shock that a man like Bucky lied to his mom about some trivial matter like dating.

“Really Bucky?… Okay so you lied to your mom about you dating someone and you want that someone to be me? Are you serious?” You chuckled.

“Yes I am serious! I told her I date this beautiful, intelligent, gorgeous, kind, amazing, wonderful pumpk…. girl. And I want it to be you!” You could hear his desperate in his voice.

Also you noticed how he was about to say pumpkin but stopped himself from doing so. “Bucky, I’m neither one of the characteristics you just explained.”

“No. That’s not true. You’re all of those characters personified. I mean you’re the smartest person I know and you’re so beautiful I could just…” he trailed off.

“My god Bucky, you’re stroking my ego so hard right now. But back to the topic, why do you want me? You could have any professional actress play that role!” Bucky had dated some actresses before.

“I can’t hire someone like that, I mean after what happened with Nat, my mom was actually worried for me and I kinda lied to her to back then and since then I’ve continued that lie.”

Natasha Romanoff was Bucky’s ex girlfriend and a famous actress and though he wasn’t madly in love with her, the relationship ended on a bad term.

“Please pumpkin, please say yes!” He begged and you were honestly unsure as to what to do. “Bucky… umm, why don’t you just lie that you broke up with your girlfriend?” Your sleep was long gone now.

“Oh about that,.. my mom is smart and she asked me if my girlfriend was still with me and I lied about how much in love we are and the she suddenly dropped that bomb that she was coming to visit me tomorrow.” He sounded more worried than you had ever heard him.

“I already like your mom.” You said smiling to yourself. “So is that a yes?” Bucky’s voice was suddenly hopeful.

“Umm… I’ll think about it.” You said teasingly. “Please, pumpkin. Don’t do this to me, please say yes!” You were loving to see him so desperate.

“Hey, don’t cry, I’ll do it!” You heard him give a sigh of relief. “Thank you pumpkin! You had no idea what you’ve done for me.”

“Okay okay fine. Just tell me what to do.” You weren’t going to tell him but you were excited for it. “Why don’t you come to my house first thing in the morning and I’ll tell you the rest?”

“Yeah. That sounds like a good thing!”

~~~

You and Bucky both pounced up from your seats when you heard the doorbell ring. His family was supposed to arrive in the morning, but their flight was delayed and by now it was almost afternoon.

Apparently, it wasn’t just his mom but rather his younger twin sister Becca and her two kids, Marty who was around seven and Maddy who was four years old.

While you had seen his mom once, you hadn’t ever seen his sister and you weren’t really shocked to see she was a carbon copy of Bucky, after all, they were twins.

The instant they stepped their feet in the house, both Marty and Maddy jumped up to Bucky and hugged him tightly. “We missed you so much Bucky!”

Both of them were perched up on each of his arm. “I missed you too!” He kissed both of their cheeks and it was utterly refreshing to see Bucky as a family man.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you.” Bucky’s mom, Winnie, smiled as she took you in. You were feeling nervous and fidgety under her gaze while Bucky chattered away with the kids.

“Bucky has told us a lot about you.” His sister said. They’re just saying the regular dialogues, Bucky sure hasn’t told them about specifically you, right?

“He told us that you love calzones, so I had made them just for you because I happen to make the best ones in town.” You looked at Bucky while she continued.

“They were supposed to be hot and fresh when we arrived, but by now it’s too late and the kids ate it while waiting. But don’t worry, I’m going to make them tomorrow.”

So Bucky had really told them about you and that meant he hadn’t told them he was dating someone, he had told them he was specifically dating you.

“You didn’t have to take all those efforts. But I’m so glad that you made them for me, I’d love to taste your calzones.” You were still reeling from the fact that Bucky had declared you as his girlfriend.

“The calzones were tasty!” Maddy exclaimed as she came running towards you. She waddled up to you and tugged on your pants in an invitation to pick her up.

“I’m so sorry, mom made them for you but the kids got hungry on the way because of all the delay and…” Becca seemed worried and you stopped her midway.

“It’s absolutely alright!” Maddy was now resting her head on your shoulder as she sat on your hand. “The ride was so tiring though. The kids are so sleepy by now.” Winnie complained.

“And that is why I tell you to travel by a private jet.” Bucky said finally joining the conversation. “But Bucky it’s yours, not…” Becca started but was once again cut off midway.

“I’m not taking any excuse this time.” Bucky casually placed his free hand over your shoulder and it had started feeling a bit too homely.

“Hi. You are very pretty, pumpkin!” All the heads snapped at Marty when he said this and Bucky gasped. “Hey buddy, only I call her pumpkin.” Bucky playfully swatted Marty.

“But I don’t know your name! And Bucky always calls you pumpkin!” Laughing, you shared your name with the kids. “You’re so possessive Bucky.” His sister teased.

“Oh come on! Are you guys tired?” Bucky whined and you all collectively laughed. “We are actually very tired and hungry and you better show us our rooms!” His mom playfully scolded him.

~~~

“I cannot believe this!” You screamed once Bucky entered his bedroom. You had come here sometime earlier than him after having dinner, so he could get some private time with his family.

Bucky’s family was much more accepting and warm than you had thought. And it seemed as if they were more than overjoyed that you were his girlfriend.

“Believe what?” He casually asked. “Stop acting all innocent Bucky! You told them you were dating me, not some vague person!”

“Ohhh that..” suddenly the realisation seeped in Bucky. “I know I lied to about you without your permission and I know it’s bad but I had no other choice.”

“For a year? You’ve told your mom we have been together for a year and you didn’t even think of telling me? Not even last night? What did you say then?,, yeah, you’re dating someone intelligent and gorgeous like you could’ve just told me that it was me.”

“But then you wouldn’t have come!” You couldn’t believe how well Bucky knew you. If he had told you the truth last night, you wouldn’t have come today.

“I’m sometimes afraid of how well you know me.” You shrugged. “Don’t be afraid! I mean I really didn’t know you wear bugs bunny pajamas to bed.” He teased you.

“They are comfortable and soft and I won’t tolerate a word against my pjs. By the way, you make fun of me for wearing this, what do you wear while sleeping?”

“I sleep naked.” Bucky gave his usually asshole smirk. “Ewww….” You pretended to gag and Bucky pouted. “Now you didn’t say that three days back.” He wiggled his eyebrows and rolled your eyes.

You jumped on the fluffy bed, which was much softer than yours, and closed your eyes. “I’m tired and I don’t know about you, but I’m sleeping. Good night!” You aptly changed the topic.

Bucky was silent for a few moments before he started undressing. “Bucky are you really getting naked here?” You pulled up the covers and sighed contently as you were warm from head to toe.

“It’s my room and it’s my bed!” Bucky declared before joining you on the bed. “Bucky go sleep on the couch.” You protested.

“The bed is big enough for both of us to sleep comfortably, so go to sleep pumpkin.” He patted your head and swatted his hand away.

You weren’t worried about maintaining distance, you were worried about controlling yourself. Bucky was laying naked within close proximity and the memories of your past encounter weren’t really helping you in not getting aroused.

You both lay still on the bed in an awkward silence before Bucky spoke up. “You wanna have sex?”

It was a fairly casual question, as if didn’t carry weight at all. You knew you should’ve thought more about it but the word left your mouth before you could stop. “Yes.”

The next instant, Bucky’s warm body was draped over yours. His hands slipped beneath your sleep shirt and he groaned when he realised you weren’t wearing a bra.

His hands tweaked your nipples before pushing back the covers. He pulled down your pants and discarded your shirt leaving you as naked as him. “You’re so beautiful,.. god, I’ve waited so long to see you.”

His voice was deep and you shied under his gaze. His lips attached themselves to your neck before trailing sweet soft kisses all over your body.

“Bucky…” your voice was a breathy moan by the time he reached between your legs. He gently spread your legs apart and settled himself in between.

He kissed and nibbled on your inner thighs but refused to touch where you needed him the most. “Bucky, please!” You tugged on his hair and he seemed to have gotten the message.

You whined when his hot wet tongue licked a stripe straight from your quivering hole to your throbbing clit. His hands held your thighs and kept you from wriggling.

You nearly screamed when his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. “Shhh… you don’t want to wake up everyone else, do you?” Bucky said and you could clearly see his lower face drenched in your juices.

You shook your head unable to speak. “Good girl.” It shouldn’t have affected you like I did but you felt yourself growing wetter.

His mouth kept sucking at your clit and his tongue flicked it while his fingers prodded at your hole. He pushed in two fingers at once and you arched your back.

The stretch of his thick fingers and the attention he was paying to your clit was making you delirious with pleasure. “Bucky… I’m gonna cum!” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum for me.” When you came, it was unlike any other time. It was as soothing as a hot knife melting a slab of butter.

Your mouth was open in a silent scream as you breathed rapidly. Bucky finally came up from between your thighs and licked his fingers wet with your slick all while maintaining an eye contact.

The sight was so erotic you thought you could cum just from it. You ran your hands from his pecs to his abs, despite his hard look, his body had a soft give to it.

When he kissed you, it was soft and gentle. You two weren’t fucking, neither were you having just sex, this moment had somehow turned into soft lovemaking.

He stroked his cock to relieve some tension before guiding it to your pussy. He teased you again by rubbing his head on your clit and over your hole but never entering it.

“Bucky… please!” His blue eyes were deeper than vast pools of endless oceans as he stared into you. “Please what?” His voice was strained too.

“Please,.. fuck me!” He gave a pleased smiled before entering you. You suppressed your moans by kissing him as he slowly thrusted into you.

Unlike previously, he wasn’t possessive, it was almost as if he knew you were his. His thrusts were deep yet soft, this time it was more about intimacy than sex.

You nibbled and sucked on his neck leaving little marks of possession to which he didn’t protest at all. If anything, his moans were indication of how he loved it.

Bucky grinded his hips into yours, rubbing all the spots just right and you moaned a little louder. The next thing you knew, Bucky’s hand was on your mouth as he rutted into you.

The house was a bit too big and you knew your voice wasn’t going to reach the other rooms by any mean, yet the forbidden nature of this act was turning you on even more.

It didn’t take much time for you to reach your peak again due to Bucky’s firm thrusts. You tried telling him but all that came out was a muffled moan.

Bucky could feel that you were about to cum and he held you on the bed with his other hand. Being held down while being fucked was apparently a new kink you hadn’t yet unlocked.

Little tremors passed in your body as you orgasmed. You held on to Bucky tightly as you floated on the clouds of overwhelming pleasure.

You didn’t realise tears were slipping past your eyes until Bucky wiped them off with his thumb. You could tell he was close as he his movements became erratic.

His fingers pressed into your skin a bit tighter when he came inside you and his hips stuttered without a rhythm before pressing deep. Your legs tingled again when you felt his warm cum fill you up.

He laid back on the bed and pulled you close such that your head was resting on his chest and you could hear his heartbeat.

There was a moment where you two just stared at each other without saying anything. It wasn’t an awkward silence, rather it was a very comfortable one.

There was a serene bliss over both of your faces. Something that came only when you found peace. And you had found your peace in each other.

You pulled up the covers and placed your hands around Bucky just as he did he circled his hands around you. Together you fell asleep, wrapped up in your cocoon of affection.

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zintranslations · 3 years

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Kaleidoscope of Death, Extra 1

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Extra: What He Is

It was an afternoon after they'd both returned to reality when Ruan Nanzhu figured out that Lin Qiushi had likely detected his little secret.

Ruan Nanzhu had nothing to do that day, and was flipping through a book on the balcony. And when he found an interesting line, he had read it out loud to Lin Qiushi.

He said, "when you gaze into the abyss, the abyss also gazes back at you."

Lin Qiushi was napping at first, but when he heard this, he mumbled back, "anything you do unto the abyss will be reflected back at you, is that it?"

"Probably."

Ruan Nanzhu didn't think too much about it, leaning down to kiss Lin Qiushi on the mouth.

Then he heard Lin Qiushi say, "then maybe I should pull my zipper down at you…"

Ruan Nanzhu went still for a moment before chuckling quietly. In that moment, he understood that Lin Qiushi knew everything.

"That's right," was how Ruan Nanzhu answered. "So you should treat the abyss better."

Regarding the oddities in their life—at first, because all his attention had been on Ruan Nanzhu, Lin Qiushi hadn’t noticed. After Ruan Nanzhu returned though, all these oddities began gradually floating up to the surface, like icebergs hidden under the sea.

In Lin Qiushi's memories, he did not smoke. Even if he carried smokes on him, it was for the convenience of handing to others in his line of work. But after leaving the doors, he became fully an addict. He could smoke multiple packs a day, and felt none of the disparity of a first-time smoker.

And the family that had once been so distant began constantly contacting him, saying all this stuff like how much they worried about him. Bai Ming too—he was supposed to be Ruan Nanzhu's good friend, but now was acting like he’d known Lin Qiushi for years…

All these things, Lin Qiushi took in without looking in too deeply.

The answers to some questions weren't all that important to have. As long as Ruan Nanzhu was by his side, he felt like it was enough. As for what Ruan Nanzhu was…

Lin Qiushi reached out and caught his lover's earlobe in a pinch. Leaning his face in close, he murmured against Ruan Nanzhu's cheek: "My dear, what in the world are you?"

Ruan Nanzhu was reading, and glanced up at Lin Qiushi. Suddenly, he smiled.

"I'm your milk tea," he said.

Lin Qiushi, "…"

Ruan Nanzhu, "aren't you going to ask me why I'm your milk tea?"

Lin Qiushi lifted a brow. "The last time I heard this joke I was still a virgin. And now I'm already a mother of three."

And the two began to laugh, the atmosphere filled with the feeling of joy.

Ruan Nanzhu thought at first that Lin Qiushi would pursue the question, but Lin Qiushi only stretched and got up off the bed. He said he was going to take a shower, and ended the topic there.

Ruan Nanzhu watched Lin Qiushi go and parted his lips, mouthing a few words. Had Lin Qiushi turned right then, he would have found Ruan Nanzhu telling him one thing—I'm the door.

I'm the door. That's right. What Ruan Nanzhu said was, I'm the door.

He was the twelfth door.

But the truth was, prior to the night-time riot of a hundred ghosts, Ruan Nanzhu had not been aware of this fact. His memories were flawless, as if he truly was the leader of Obsidian. As if he—having started entering doors as a teenager, having surmounted countless obstacles and tribulations, and having finally made it past the tenth door with great difficulty—was a completely normal person. Ruan Nanzhu had possessed no memories regarding the doors, and had also been of the firm belief that he was a simple human.

This firm belief of his, after the night of a hundred ghosts had ended for him and Lin Qiushi, had been abruptly shattered.

Back then, the hours of the day were getting longer and longer, while their nights got shorter. The time Ruan Nanzhu and Lin Qiushi had together too had entered a countdown. When night no longer came, Ruan Nanzhu thought he was never going to see Lin Qiushi again—he’d gone crazy looking for the key and trying to escape, but very faintly, he’d also realized that some things appeared to have slipped out of his control…

What he hadn't told Lin Qiushi was that he also saw ghosts during the day. At first, this was because he didn't want Lin Qiushi to worry. After, it was because he realized these ghosts wouldn't hurt him. Terrifying ghouls lived on every corner, and even when Ruan Nanzhu opened his own suitcase, he would find the horrifying Hako Onna hidden inside—she had on such an innocent expression when Ruan Nanzhu dug her out, was all.

From the initial shock tinged with terror to the cold numbness that followed, Ruan Nanzhu went through about half a month like this.

By the time he truly comprehend that he would never see Lin Qiushi again, Ruan Nanzhu could already coolly sock the lady-ghost perched at the head of his bed onto the ground, telling her icily to not squat above his head, that he wouldn't grow tall this way…And perhaps he was seeing things, but he thought that after he said this, the lady-ghost looked a little bit wronged.

Angrily, Ruan Nanzhu had thought why are you feeling wronged? I haven't even had a chance to feel wronged.

At that point, though the situation around him was growing increasingly eerie, Ruan Nanzhu was still completely ignorant. He had no idea what was happening, and even thought that this was the doors punishing him. That was what he believed until one day, a little spirit in red guided him to a particular location.

When Ruan Nanzhu got there, he instantly recognized it as the apartment where Lin Qiushi had once lived. Only, the apartment complex hadn't been fully constructed yet, and it was all still ancient builds of tongzilou.

That little spirit-ghost was standing on the fifth floor, waving to Ruan Nanzhu. Ruan Nanzhu looked up at her, frowning.

"The fifth floor? What have you brought me here for?" He observed the ghost's appearance a little more closely, and said in disbelief, "you're not Satchan, are you?"

As soon as he said this, the little ghost before him smiled shyly…though, her making such an expression with that ghastly pale face wasn't cute at all.

Ruan Nanzhu was in a hurry to leave, but had no lead on the key still. So he figured he'd try any last resort, and went to see exactly what Satchan wanted to show him.

Ruan Nanzhu went up to the fifth floor and headed toward the room at the very end. He pushed open the barely-shut door, and found an abode. There was nobody in the room, only an old and dilapidated television sitting at the head of the bed. It seemed to be playing some kind of program.

Ruan Nanzhu's gaze fell on that television, and a bit of shock came into his eyes. He even thought he was seeing things as he sped over to the screen. Only then could he be certain that the TV really was showing him a young Lin Qiushi.

Lin Qiushi was walking on a small path. Two people appeared at his side, and they were both people Ruan Nanzhu recognized—Xiong Qi and Xiao Ke, whom they'd met in their first door. Ruan Nanzhu held his breath, eyes stuck to the image on the screen.

"Where are we?" The young Lin Qiushi looked very youthful, and harbored terror in his dark eyes. He carefully asked next, "who are you guys?"

The images kept playing, and Ruan Nanzhu watched it all. What the television played was how Lin Qiushi passed his first door without Ruan Nanzhu.

Ruan Nanzhu's fingertips grazed the icy screen, gently caressing Lin Qiushi's cheek through the glass. Even this young, Lin Qiushi was so easily entrancing.

He was just like raw, undiscovered ore; anyone who knew true value could see that there were dazzling treasures to be had inside.

So smart and brave and calm. Someone who wasn't blindly kind and yet maintained a bottom line—Ruan Nanzhu thought that under any and all circumstances, his lover still so thoroughly captured all attention.

The program on the television became a TV show, and it was all about Lin Qiushi. It was about how he entered doors, how he met a group of friends, how he took over Obsidian…

Ruan Nanzhu watched obsessively. A thought even popped into his mind, that why, when Lin Qiushi was going through all this, had he not been by Lin Qiushi's side? If only he could be with him, then how wondrous an experience that would be…And then Ruan Nanzhu startled back to attention, having detected his own odd state.

He had been at Lin Qiushi's side, and had gone through the test of the eleventh door with Lin Qiushi. But if that was so, then why had such a thought come to his mind just now?

Ruan Nanzhu could sense that something was wrong.

And that sense of wrongness grew broader, following the development of the TV show, as if an unstoppable pandemic.

Ruan Nanzhu saw Lin Qiushi's family in the show, and saw that the way they interacted was exactly the same as how he and his own family interacted. Ruan Nanzhu even saw Bai Ming, who ought to have been his own friend. On TV however, he was Lin Qiushi's sworn brother…

Lin Qiushi slowly grew up. Out of youth, he became a grown, mature man. The people around him came and went, yet his initial resolve never wavered, as if any darkness that was cast upon him couldn't even leave a shadow.

After watching Lin Qiushi for three days and three nights straight, Ruan Nanzhu finally realized something…He, didn't seem to be human.

He hadn't so much as rested in three day's time, but he didn't feel hungry. Nor did he feel tired. He was still full of energy, and had maintained his optimal state.

Time was null where he was concerned.

The ghost who had brought him here squatted beside him, staring up with big eyes

Ruan Nanzhu had been wary of her at first, but later grew exasperated. He said, "what are you showing this to me for? You want to tell me I'm not human?"

Satchan twisted her head, and said nothing as she watched Ruan Nanzhu.

Ruan Nanzhu had more to say, but Satchan pointed a finger at the screen, indicating Ruan Nanzhu should keep watching.

Ruan Nanzhu thought, it wasn't like things could get worse. So he'd keep watching. He couldn't leave, and he couldn't see Lin Qiushi—it hardly mattered at all if he kept watching.

So Ruan Nanzhu kept watching as Lin Qiushi's time ticked on forward.

He was like a voyeur, peeking into every corner of Lin Qiushi's life after Lin Qiushi began entering doors. He watched Lin Qiushi cry, and he watched Lin Qiushi laugh. Watched his brilliant smile when he made new acquaintances, watched him sob himself mute when he lost a dear friend. Time ticked on bit by bit, and the Ruan Nanzhu who didn't need to rest had already lost all concept of the thing.

Finally, the images underwent a decisive change.

Ruan Nanzhu watched Lin Qiushi enter his twelfth door, and when the scenery twisted, Lin Qiushi appeared in a familiar rental apartment.

And at the same time, the scene around Ruan Nanzhu too began to change. Ancient decor retreated, and his surroundings became identical to what was on TV.

On the television, Lin Qiushi lied deeply asleep in bed. A dark shadow appeared beside him. There was no discernible shape to the shadow. It was only a clump of dark umbra. The shadow extended a finger and very carefully touched Lin Qiushi's cheek. It went from forehead to nose to lips, all exceedingly gentle, as if it was scared of waking the sleeping Lin Qiushi.

Then the shadow's form began to change. Black retreated from his body as he began to look more and more like a person, until at one particular point, he looked completely identical to the Lin Qiushi lying on the bed.

But the shadow didn't seem to want to have the same face as Lin Qiushi, and so quickly changed its appearance again. The moment the shadow decided on its final form, Ruan Nanzhu, who was watching all this from outside the television, chuckled bitterly—that shadow looked exactly the same as he did.

That's right. The shadow was Ruan Nanzhu.

Had it been anybody else, seeing this might have driven them crazy. But Ruan Nanzhu remained calm. Honestly, watching Lin Qiushi's life these past days, he'd already fathomed such a guess. It was just that seeing it with his own eyes now was still a little bit shocking.

On the television, Ruan Nanzhu smiled so longingly at Lin Qiushi. Then he began to fade, disappearing from Lin Qiushi's side.

And when Lin Qiushi woke up the next morning, the first thing he discovered was that Chestnut wouldn't let him hold it anymore.

The cat that had been so attached to him actually hissed and puffed up its fur at him, as if it didn't recognize him at all. And cat-slave Lin Qiushi, after seeing such a thing, was at a complete loss for what to do. Against the cat perched up on high ground with such a look of disdain on its face, Lin Qiushi could only mope, saying, "Chestnut, why don't you want daddy anymore? Chestnut?"

Once Ruan Nanzhu saw Lin Qiushi in such a state, his shoulders began to tremble. And then hearty guffaws were spilling out, because he knew that the story that belonged to him and Lin Qiushi was about to begin.

Sure enough, a few days later, Lin Qiushi opened a door.

The inside of the door ought to have been a sight he'd already seen, but because his memories had been altered, his gaze was completely strange. And this time, the path that he walked on had a new, unfamiliar face.

Ruan Baijie in women's clothes shuffled pathetically up to Lin Qiushi with tears in her eyes, asking Lin Qiushi where they were.

And when Lin Qiushi asked for Ruan Nanzhu's name, it was the three words “Ruan Baijie” that came out of Ruan Nanzhu's lips.

This was how they met.

The Ruan Nanzhu back then had also thought he was a regular human. He'd gotten his wish; in another way, he'd become an addition to Lin Qiushi's journey, and became an integral character who could not be removed from Lin Qiushi's life.

This was very satisfying to Ruan Nanzhu. Only, everything had to come to an end. Even the twelfth door had to end.

Ruan Nanzhu had still not recovered any memories of when he'd been inhuman. He only knew that he wasn't human, but what in the world was he? Ruan Nanzhu was still thinking of this question when he glanced at Satchan blinking up at him.

He suddenly said, "I'm not the NPC guarding the twelfth door, am I?"

Satchan peered at Ruan Nanzhu, not speaking, but Ruan Nanzhu spotted a touch of disdain in her gaze.

Ruan Nanzhu, "…" Ah fuck, it seemed he was.

To tell the truth, wiping his own memories to the point where it was likely he'd never get it back seemed to Ruan Nanzhu like something he was capable of. And now, he'd obtained his objective; he'd gotten the affection of the one he loved.

"I'm a bit happy about this, what do I do." There was nobody here, only endless ghosts, and Ruan Nanzhu sat in the dark softly grinning. "I just think about all that we've been through, and I feel so blissed out."

Satchan naturally wouldn't give him an answer.

"But now comes the problem. How do I get out?" Ruan Nanzhu lifted his head, looking around at the unfamiliar apartment. "I can get out, right?"

He thought about it for a moment before looking at Satchan once again.

"What else do you know?"

Satchan peered at a clock on the wall.

Ruan Nanzhu, "the clock?" He stood up, watching the ongoing, twelve-numbered clock, sinking deep into thought. Then he took the clock down.

He took the cover off the clock, and when he found nothing inside, pressed the button that controlled the hour hand, starting to turn it. Suddenly, he thought of something, and asked Satchan one last question: "That's right…When Qiushi and I crossed the doors, if I didn't successfully pass, would I have died?"

Satchan's expression at this went a bit strange, looking slightly like pity, and also like she was looking at a mental patient. In the end, she nodded.

Ruan Nanzhu snickered, thinking this really was his style—everything had to be done to perfection, and approximate reality as much as possible.

Ruan Nanzhu turned the clock. Moments later, two keys fell to the ground. He picked them up, read the words on them, and couldn't help but smile again.

Illusory life, an authentic death. No matter what kind of world Lin Qiushi wanted, Ruan Nanzhu would give it to him.

He could choose a cruel reality, or he could choose a beautiful dream. And the power to choose, Ruan Nanzhu had already set in Lin Qiushi's hands.

Only now that he thought about it, it was all probably superfluous; Ruan Nanzhu hardly needed to think to know Lin Qiushi's answer. He grabbed the key and left the building. He opened the door and found only one door in the hallway. That door was filled with gentle white light. Ruan Nanzhu approached and stepped inside.

The world-line changed accordingly.

The members of Obsidian, who first had no memory of a person named Ruan Nanzhu, felt a little extra something in their minds. So when they saw Ruan Nanzhu coming downstairs in the mansion, nobody looked shocked—Ye Niao even called Lin Qiushi in a state of excitement, telling Lin Qiushi that Ruan-ge was back.

On the other end of the line, Lin Qiushi was of course ecstatic.

Ruan Nanzhu, on the other hand, sat in the living room, silently observing his surroundings to make sure that it was no different from the ones in his memories.

"Ruan-ge, you're finally back," Ye Niao was saying to him. "Don't you know how hard Lin-ge had it this past year?"

"Year?" Ruan Nanzhu startled. "It's already been a year?"

"Yeah," Ye Niao said. "It's already been a year."

Ruan Nanzhu thought that it was a good thing he didn't hesitate. Had he waited any longer, Lin Qiushi's kids would already be three by the time he came out…

The two reunited in joyous embrace.

Lin Qiushi actually never asked why Ruan Nanzhu was only showing up now. The truth was, as long as Ruan Nanzhu came out, Lin Qiushi would never fault him.

But even immersed in happiness, Ruan Nanzhu quickly discovered one unfortunate thing. Ever since he came out of the door, the twelfth door for everybody else appeared to have been sealed off. A paper seal was stuck on it, as if telling the outside that the door was now empty.

With Lin Qiushi's intellect, after linking such an incident to other oddities, it wasn't difficult to guess that Ruan Nanzhu wasn't human. When he realized this, Ruan Nanzhu felt a bit panicked. He couldn't be certain, after all, whether or not Lin Qiushi would mind. At the end of the day, questioning whether or not your lover was a door god didn't seem to be a particularly joyous occasion.

And so when Ruan Nanzhu took the phone that Lin Qiushi had been browsing the forums on, he'd closely observed Lin Qiushi's reaction. Only when he found nothing changed in his lover's expression—that Lin Qiushi didn't seem to have noticed at all—did Ruan Nanzhu let out a held breath.

Of course, only later did Ruan Nanzhu realize that it wasn't that Lin Qiushi didn't know, it was that he pretended not to know; he didn't care at all what Ruan Nanzhu was.

"So how did you befriend Bai Ming in the first place?" Lin Qiushi sat on the sofa, remote in hand and watching TV as he idly chatted with Ruan Nanzhu.

"He was in coincidental possession of a high-level door hint, and I needed to bring someone through. So we hooked up," Ruan Nanzhu answered.

Lin Qiushi twisted around to look at Ruan Nanzhu, saying, "so what's he coming to chat with me every day for?"

"Hey, can you two stop pretending like I'm not here, chattering away like that?" Bai Ming munched on the sunflower seeds that Ruan Nanzhu had just fried up, angry. "Go take your banter somewhere else! Also, it was love at first sight from me to you, Lin Qiushi, isn't that alright?"

"No," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Get your claws off him."

Bai Ming, "hmph. Selfish."

Lin Qiushi's lips curved up, saying nothing.

Bai Ming got up and took his leave, saying his dearest had texted, that they were getting dinner.

"He still has time to get dinner with you?" Lin Qiushi commented idly. "Isn't he busy with his new movie?"

"He is," Bai Ming sighed. "But I like him making movies. Have you seen his The Way of Kings? I won't lie to you, on that set, we—"

"Shut it," Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu said at the same time, both of them hitting pause on Bai Ming's dirty joke at top speed. They didn't want unfortunate images coming to mind when they were watching the movie, after all.

"Damn." Bai Ming flipped up his palms. "You two are just getting more and more alike."

"Is it bad to be alike?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"You like dating someone with a personality so similar to yours?" Bai Ming said.

"I do." Lin Qiushi started grinning, but his tone was perfectly serious as he spoke. "My personality's great, why wouldn't I like it?"

Bai Ming, "…" He'd realized the two of them were intentionally stuffing him dog food, and so turned and left promptly, cussing out the two bastards all the while.

Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu shared a hearty laugh. Then, watching each other, they found in each other's gazes a certain profound meaning. Only, within that meaning, there was also love that couldn't be concealed.

Why must some things be so clearly thought out? Lin Qiushi thought. As long as Ruan Nanzhu was by his side, it was enough.

[Ch. 139] | [Extra: Shameless Couple (1)]

#kaleidoscope of death #xi zixu #cnovel #chinese translation #死亡萬花筒 #BAM #THEN SHE FUCKING DROPS THIS ON US #okay tho jesus christ i just forgot how tenses worked halfway through #i'm ESL :clown: if you spot something that needs to be fixed please please please tell me

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overflowing-with-words · 3 years

Text

monsters lurk in my dark | lloyd g., kai s.

ohmygod cat is giving us two fics that wasn't in the update list at all excuse: angst is addictive

haha enjoy this very short sleep deprived thing that I wrote two nights ago while forgetting the other stuff I had to work on and it's also very not edited

I just wanted to write pspspsps promise the other ones are almost done just a few more days probably

set in whatever time you want

tw: killing, injuries, blood, gunshot, wounds, crying, realistic nightmares, screaming.

• • •

Lloyd was standing in a abandoned street, listening to the wind howl through the leafless trees.

Behind him were the sounds of a fight through the city, screams fading away into nothing.

"You said you loved me." A low voice rang out behind him, and he turned, holding out a sword defensively, only to see his father standing behind him, staring at him.

"I-I do." He stammered, weapon slipping from his fingers.

"Then why did you do it?" Garmadon asked, and his expression twisted in confusion.

"Do what?"

The moment he asked, blood began gushing from his father's chest, dripping to the ground.

"D-dad?" He asked, rushing towards him. Garmadon gave him one last dark, accusing look, and promptly crumpled to the ground, blood pooling around him.

Lloyd looked at his hands, realizing they were stained a dark red.

His sword was buried into his father's chest, and Lloyd's mind spun wildly, thoughts rushing out of control. Darkness swept in from the corners of his eyes, and-

He found himself kneeling on the ground in a dark alleyway a second later.

Kai and Jay both laid in front of him, a gunshot wound through the former's stomach. The lighting ninja was curled up next to him, a deep puddle of blood pooling around his shoulder.

A gun was thrown aside on the path, wall behind him peppered with bullet holes.

"Kai?" Just as he whispered the name, the world turned blank again, and he was standing above Nya laying on a edge of the empty docks, blood gushing from the long wound on her throat.

The sea water was stained with red, mixing with the clear liquid.

He stood in shock, faintly noting the knife next to her. Blood dripped steadily from his fingertips, splattering onto the ground.

He didn't-

Everything starting twisting into each other, the docks melding into the water, and he lurched forward-

In front of him laid another one of his friends.

"W-w-why did you do it?" Zane stammered, and Lloyd saw with horror that his chest had been ripped up, a gaping hole in his body revealing the robot's inner works. Torn, mangled wires sparked for the last time,

The nindroid blinked one last time, and the light in his eyes went dark, accusing gaze turning into a empty, lifeless stare.

"Zane- I didn't-"

"Lloyd?"

The scene spun into black before him again, and he stood at the edge of a building before Cole.

Lloyd distantly felt the outlined shape of a brick in his hands.

"Hey, hey, hey- stop that—"

This time, the world didn't fade away, and he stepped forward unsteadily, feeling like he was watching himself move.

Like he was a puppet, but he didn't know who was moving the strings.

Was he possessed again?

"Lloyd?" Cole turned around, frowning at him. "Have you seen the other-"

The heavy piece of stone slammed into the side of his head, and he fell to the ground instantly-

Lloyd screamed.

"—wake up—"

He dropped the makeshift weapon, hearing it clatter loudly to the ground, and stumbled to the side of the tower.

Nobody was controlling his strings.

He was doing it . . . himself.

"—Lloyd! Wake up!"

He stepped forward blindly, eyes blurry with tears, not seeing anything.

And the crevice of pure black swallowed him up, heart catching in his throat—

—Lloyd sat up, gasping for air. Around him stood his teammates, everyone looking at him worriedly.

Kai sat next to him, hands on his shoulders. Lloyd stared at them, mind racing. Swiping a hand across his cheeks mindlessly, he realized they were wet from tears.

Hadn't he- hadn't he just killed them-

"Y-you're not dead?" His voice came out a whisper, and the other's expressions turned to confusion.

Jay shook his head. "We're not dead, kay? Nothing to worry about." He reassured him, voice gentle.

"B-but I killed you." Lloyd said in a painfully small voice, bringing his knees up to his chest. He hates feeling so young, so vulnerable.

"Nope. We're alive and kicking."Cole spoke up, from where he was perched precariously on a fragile side table, almost bending under his weight.

"My dad turned evil." He said quietly. "What if—" he couldn't bring himself to say the words out loud.

"Oh, Lloyd." Nya breathed. "Don't. You know you're never going to be like your father, right? You're not him."

"There's not a bad bone in you." Cole added, but Lloyd looked unconvinced, . He glanced over all of them, a sense of relief spreading over him at the realization that they were all unharmed.

His gaze landed on Zane, and he exhales sharply, seeing the same dead eyes and wires poking out of the robot's chest for a split second. But the nindroid's metallic skin is as flawless as ever, eyes lit up a bright blue. They almost looked sad.

"Why- why are you all here?" he stammered, looking at them all variously standing- or sitting around his room.

"Well-," Jay started "-you were screaming a lot. And crying. And you fell off your bed." He motioned senselessly, and Lloyd realized with a start he's sitting on the cold wooden ground, palms splayed, steadying himself.

His hands slowly curl into fists, nails digging in painfully.

"Oh." His cheeks heated up, not knowing that they could hear him in real life. "Uhm, sorry for waking everyone up-"

"It's fine, Lloyd. Are you okay?" Zane interrupted his apology, steady, quiet voice somehow calming his anxieties down more. He nodded listlessly, and everyone gave him a unbelieving look. He's fine. He's fine, he just needs to—

"It was just a nightmare. I'm good." He said, trying for a smile. None of them move. His eyes slide shut for a moment again, and all he can see again is the bloodied bodies of his brothers, haunting the dark behind his eyelids.

"Lloyd. " Kai spoke up. His soft brown gaze flickering up to meet his trembling green.

"It's okay to not be okay. You know that, right? We all get nightmares. It comes with the—" he hesitates for a moment "— things we have to do everyday. Every time we fight."

That's what brings down the walls that have been steady for so long. In the end, the tears threatening to slip out again win out in the struggle, and Lloyd breaks into ungiving sobs, shoulders shaking uselessly as he tries to stop.

Kai pulled him into a hug, and he suddenly can't remember the last time he held his younger brother like this. "It'll be okay. Don't bury it, Lloyd."

Lloyd sniffs quietly, Kai feeling his shoulder turn wet where his head leaning, and everyone looked at Kai, all holding a unvoiced question.

"Yeah, go." He mouthed, waving them out. They slowly trailed out of the room, headed back to their own beds. Pushing himself further, he hoisted the small teen onto the bed, and leans against the wall, grip loosening slightly.

He spends the night with his arms around Lloyd, fading off to sleep sometime in the night. When dawning sunlight breaks through the window, he wakes up to a still soundly asleep boy, and Jay standing over them with a flashing video camera.

"You guys look so cute."

• • •

But now, whenever the screaming starts again in the middle of the night, Kai is the first one found in Lloyd's room.

#kai smith #ninjago #ninjago fanfic #ninjago one shot #lloyd garmardon #jay walker #Cole brookstone #fluff?#angst

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anonymousfiction211 · 3 years

Text

Handcuffed together: 15

A/N: The story continues. I had a wedding on friday, so a day later than planned :) Hope you like it. Let me know what you think :)

Moving on? The seconds passed by slowly from the moment Loki left you, again. The seconds turned into minutes, hours, days, weeks and eventually months. The first few days you were angry, waiting for Thor to come back so you could yell at him about Loki. But Thor never came back, at first you were angry about that too. But Natasha reminded you that Thor probably had other duties to perform in Asgard and that you couldn’t hold him accountable for his brother’s actions. True.

When you heard nothing, you became sad and depressed. You had thought that Loki would have checked in, maybe leave a message in time. But nothing. It was like he and your entire relationship had never happened. It started with you only dressing in lounge clothes. You stopped hanging out with the team, and were mostly in your room watching tv. You didn’t spend any time on your other hobby’s. Eventually Steve was forced to put you on a break, meaning you didn’t actively take part in the team or go on missions. It took five long months, but that was the moment you decided you were done. You needed to be yourself again.

‘Morning (Y/N), you are up early today? And even dressed in normal clothing?’ Natasha greeted you surprised.

‘Yeah.. thanks Nat’ you replied a bit grumpily. ‘Look, I’m done being lonely and I want to help again. Do you know where I can find Steve?’

‘Good to see you finally coming to terms with everything. Once you are fully over him, we can go out together and snatch you up a better guy’ she winked at you. ‘I think Steve is in the briefing room’

‘Thanks… maybe in a month or two’ you said. Leaving her to find Steve.

Natasha was right, you found him in the briefing room. You knocked on the door and he told you to enter.

‘Hey, (Y/N)’ he said surprised, clearly not expecting you.

‘Hi’ you said a bit sheepishly. ‘Can we talk for a moment?’

‘Of course, take a seat. You are looking good. How are you doing?’ he asked.

‘Better.. I ehm.. actually, wanted to apologize for my absence and the mood I have been in and –

‘(Y/N), don’t worry. It was all completely understandable’ Steve cut you off.

‘Still..’ you said.

The room was silent for a moment. ‘I’m just glad you are doing better. Plus, we already agreed as a team that if we ever see Loki again, let’s say it’s best if he doesn’t show his face around here anymore’

‘Thanks’ you forced a small giggle. ‘I think it’s time to pick up my life and I wanted to talk about the leave you put me on’ you started.

‘You want to come back?’ Steve asked.

‘Yes, I think it is best to have a certain rhythm and get back in the groove, don’t you think?’

‘As much as I love to have you fully back, it isn’t that easy actually’ Steve hesitatingly started.

‘What do you mean?’ you stomach started to tie itself in knots.

‘You need to be re-evaluated, before you can fully join. I mean, you can help us in the meantime. But not actively participate on missions before you are cleared again’ he started to explain.

‘How much time will it take?’

‘The re-evaluation consists of two steps. The first step is a physical test to see what level you are on now. And after that there is a mentality test, to see if you are in the right mind set to function on missions. If you pass straight away you can join next week. But I have to be honest, you were pretty out of it and missed a lot of training So, I think it will be a month or three. But like I said, there is still plenty you can help us with, without actively join the missions’

‘Oh’ you said a bit disappointed. ‘But can’t we just skip it? I’m fine now, and I really want to be back on the team’

‘(Y/N), that’s not how it works’ Steve sighed.

‘Please? I need this’ you begged.

‘Answer one question for me: if we are in the middle of the battle with Thanos, and suddenly Loki appears. What will you do?’

‘I eh.. I..’ you stammered, to be honest you still didn’t know what you would do.

‘Exactly. As much as we love you, it is important to go through these test. We need to be able to trust each other blindly. And as long as you do not have the right answer immediately to that question, we can’t. I’m sorry’ he said.

‘I understand’ you said softly, trying not to break down. That surely wouldn’t help your case.

‘I’m sorry. If you feel up for it, I will start up the whole process. But if you need more time, then take all the time you need. I’m already super glad that you are doing better’ he said.

‘Thanks Steve, ehm.. start it up. And what can I do in the meantime?’ you asked.

‘I will catch you up’ he said.

Then Steve started to explain what the team had been doing the past months. They had tracked a guy down, named dr. Strange. Apparently he was a bit like Tony. He also possessed an infinity stone, and they told him everything that Loki had told them. Thor would hopefully be back soon, and than they would no more about how Loki was doing and if he knew where Thanos was hiding. In the meantime, dr. Strange had tracked down another stone on a planet by someone called ‘the collector’. Apparently Asgard had given them the reality stone for safe keeping. Dr. Strange had set up a meeting and would try to come back with the stone. The plan was to collect the stones before Thanos and then imprison him with them, so he couldn’t go through with his plan. Kill him if necessary.

‘So, if you could drop of these documents at the sanctuary, that would be really helpful’ Steve said lastly.

‘Am I supposed to be everyone’s assistant until I’m cleared?’ you snapped

‘You’re no-one’s assistant. But this is the only task I can give you at the moment. This and ask for an update on his work, it really would help’

After some back and forth you reluctantly agreed to go to the sanctuary. Before that Steve had called everyone to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and tell them that you are working on joining the team again. To your relief everyone was supportive and seemed glad that you were doing better.

That afternoon you walked to the sanctuary with the documents. Wondering if you would get to meet dr. Strange and what he was really like.

‘And you are?’ he said answering the door you just knocked on.

‘I’m (Y/N) from the Avengers, here to deliver some documents you needed and to ask how your progress is’ you answered politely.

‘Ah, so you are the one sleeping with the enemy’ he joked.

After seeing your not-amused-face he cleared his throat and invited you into the sanctum. He told you about what this place was and who he was. He had actually an appointment with the collector in an hour, just to meet up. He didn’t expect that he would be able to get the stone on the first try.

‘If you really want to help, you could actually tell me about Loki’ he said.

‘I don’t want to talk about it’ you said.

‘Look, I have reason to believe that Loki has already been to the collector. And I know very little about the guy. Maybe you can interpret some of his actions for me?’ he asked.

You sighed heavily. ‘I’m not able to explain every choice he made. But if he has been there you can ask me when you return’ you said bitterly.

‘Or… you could come with?’ dr. Strange proposed.

‘I can’t. I’m not supposed to join missions. I’m on leave with the Avengers and need to be re-evaluated first’ you explained.

‘But I’m not with the Avengers. So, technically I’m hiring you as a free-lancer. So, are you coming with me? Could be helpful?’ he tried to persuade you.

‘I can’t. If the team finds out..’

‘I promise I won’t tell them. If Loki has really been there, aren’t you curious to what he is up to?’ dr. Strange cocked one of his eyebrows.

That argument convinced you. Besides, it was one conversation with some guy you would attend. It really wasn’t a mission, right? What could go wrong?

At the collector Dr. Strange, who said to call him Steven, opened a portal and the two of you went through. The collector was a peculiar being, his assistant also. He and Steven were talking about the stone and Thanos, while you walked behind them besides the assistant. Walking through the collection of the collector you saw some amazing things. It did disturb you that there were living beings held captive here, even after the collector assured you that it was fine. You were drawn back into the conversation when you heard Loki’s name.

‘Yes, he has been here’ the collector answered. ‘What did he ask you? What did he want? When did he leave?’ Steven asked.

‘Ah, a lot. Quite the mischievous guy, but that is to be expected I suppose. Unfortunately for him, someone else already had required my services’ that made everyone stop walking.

‘What do you mean?’ Steve asked.‘Well, to answer you earlier question, he is still here. Now Carina’ the collector said.

Before you knew what was happening someone grabbed you and you felt a sharp needle in your neck. Steven looked shocked. You wanted to scream but every muscle in your body went limb. Your eyes felt heavy and you vision started to blur. Was the building tilting sidewards? Or were you falling? The last thing you heard was laughter and you saw Steven’s sparkling magic, and then it went black.

Some time later Your head was pounding, and your mouth was dry. Still foggy you tried to open your eyes. There was a familiar voice saying something in the background. One of your hands was immobile. Recounting everything that happened you tried to sit up right and open your eyes. It took a moment for your vision to fully return and your hearing to improve. The first thing you noticed was that one of your hands was cuffed. The cuff was attached to another hand. Looking up, you saw him. ‘Good to see you again, kitten’ Loki smiled.

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sweetestlamb · 4 years

Text

Temptation

Summary: Vincenzo is feeling parched.

Author's note: These two have been living in my mind rent free lately, I'm just shallow and they look so damn good together and when you add the chemistry, well I'm a goner. Just a little drabble based on today's episode, I'm taking a break from BMTL this weekend because it's going to be another 10k probably and it's the first weekend I'm off with my bf so I promised not to ignore him to write all day lol. Update soon though!

Bon appetit!

Wispy dark lashes flutter just above her high cheekbones as she awaits the blow, her pretty face scrunched up in anticipation as a minor twitch in her lip distracts him.

That's been happening far too often lately, more than he'd care to admit. It was easier when she was blindly following Babel and refused to see the insidious truth about the morally bankrupt company, it was easier to pacify his attraction when she was the bad guy. Not that he was the right candidate to judge, he'd done notifiable heinous things in his life. Her father had been the first person to look at him like he was worth something, like the evil that lurked under his skin could be used for something good.

But her eyes had been opened, in the end she had chosen her father. If only he'd been here to see it.

That decision unhinges the small grapple he has on his control, he finds himself looking at her all the time cataloging the many emotions that distort that expressive face. She's like a living caricature and instead of finding that off-putting he's intrigued and mesmerized. Constantly battling with his lips that won't stop rising in her presence, he's not someone who smiles lightly. Has never had much of a reason to.

Until now.

"What are you waiting for? Just do it." She whines impatiently, squirming side to side and pursing her full lips.

That small move captures all his attention, eyes locked on the rosy pink skin. Instinctively he steps forward until he can feel her body heat, her face is even more captivating up close. She was beautiful, that wasn't hard to admit he was a man after all and his eyes were functional. It was.... everything else that he couldn't admit, not even to himself.

Just do it.

If only she knew what those words did to him, he felt as if he was lit in flames by his own lighter; burning up just from his prolonged vicinity to the loud lawyer. She was being her usual brazen self but she had no idea, not the slightest inkling of what exactly he wanted to do to her. It usually ended in passionate screams in his dreams. Her wild abandon was a thing of beauty, he didn't even mind the mess on his silk sheets because his mind supplied such vivid imaginings.

Staring down at her he wonders how she would taste, perhaps like the spicy noodles she was so fond of or maybe something sweeter and forbidden, once you peeled back the many layers you would discover something so delicious it was addicting. She would be his ambrosia.

"Come on, you're killing me! What's taking so long?" She grumbles now pouting, plush bottom lip jutting out enticingly and his finger hovers in front of her forehead but he can't move, can't bring himself to hurt her no matter how insignificant the hit. Somehow this woman has weaved a web around him, he feels like a fly caught in a spider's deadly but beautiful trap.

What's wrong with me?

There must be indeed something wrong with him because he feels his hand unfurling and lowering until he's nearly cupping her jaw, the delicate point barely above his hand. He's so tempted. Taking another step forward he lifts his second hand, curling around the dip of her lower back. She's so petite despite her loud bark, her entire body could fit easily in his hand.

He wants to lower his hand, grab her face and her waist and.... And what? What is he thinking? This is not why he came to Korea. He wasn't supposed to get involved more than he needed to and he knows no good can come of this, there's only one outcome for men who are lured by seductive sirens. He has to ignore her song no matter how much his body aches when he's with her. Woman have never been elusive in his line of work, gorgeous Italian women who opened up for him easily, surrendering under his capable hands. They were nothing but a good time, a perfunctory scratching of an itch. But, Cha-young he wants to wreck her, take her apart piece by piece until she's putty in his hands.

"What are you doing?" She says sounding amused and he lifts his eyes to find her twinkling ones already on his face. She looks at the twin hands hovering above her body with a raised brow, face now turned into the hand adjacent to her cheek.

"Do you want to change the specifics of our deal?" She teases darkly and he gulps, finally lowering his hands but twisting them around his back to prevent himself from making a huge mistake.

"No." He lies, trying to douse the fire that is blazing in his blood.

"Aishhh. You're such a bad liar." She huffs, nose crinkled up in disbelief and he hates the way his heart smarts his lips twitching to form a smile. He feels so warm and he doesn't know what any of it means.

"Come here." She doesn't give him an opportunity to disobey before reaching out to grab his tie, her hands wrapped around the luxurious material and with a sharp tug he's pulled into her, their bodies colliding and everything feels right.

"Stop." He whispers throat feeling raw, his voice comes out rougher than he intended. His eyes widen at the red flush that it yields, he's not the only one affected it seems.

"You don't want to flick me," she states with certainty, eyes searching his face as she tightens her hold on his tie his neck strains under the slight pressure, leaning down to lessen the tension. Too late he releases how much closer that brings their faces, she's barely an inch away from him now her soft puffs of breath landing directly on his face. "What do you want to do to me instead, Mr. Cassano?" She boldly finishes her statement, dark eyes ping ponging between his lips and his eyes.

Mentally berating himself for his weakness he suddenly grabs her waist, his arm circumvents the entire circumference with room to spare. She gasps in surprise but doesn't look scared, rather she looks curious, biting her bottom lip as she earnestly watches him.

"Do you really want to know?" He bites out, bringing his hand to her jaw and then sliding lower curling it around her neck, fingers tickling the soft nape of head.

She smirks, unflinching in the eye of his storm. She stands on the tips of her toes, bringing them that much closer, "Oh you don't know how much I want to know, Vincenzo." His name is exotic on her tongue, the letters not quite settling correctly but it sounds delectable to his ears, he wants to hear her scream it loudly too.

"I'll show you then." He's done with words, it's clear that they're both cognizant of what's happening between them, the air is so charged it's nearly crackling. She isn't backing down and despite his better judgement he doesn't want to lose, he can't be the way to pull away now. Simultaneously they yank each other closer, him by her neck and her by his tie. He sees the passion in her eyes, finally bursting to the surface and that's all the consent he needs, if she wants him too then she can have him.

Twisting his head he surges forward, eager to capture her lips and devour her moans of pleasure, his hand is now curled possessively around the small swell of her tight posterior, her suit pants always putting it beautifully on display. He had been hungry to touch it, grab it and feel the plumpness in his hands. It's every bit as amazing as he's imagined, her lips fall open as he squeezes at the flesh and he leans forward prepared to eat her alive.

She wraps her free arm around his neck, dragging him down to meet her and he easily lifts her off the ground, grinning boyishly when she squeaks releasing his tie to wrap both arms around his neck, their faces are now level. His hand remains on her ass.

Silently they move towards each other, intent crystal clear.

He can feel the heat from her lip, just as he grazes the smooth skin he hears a loud crash from behind them and they both jump, foreheads knocking accidentally as they react to the sudden sound.

He unceremoniously drops her, but her arms still latched around his shoulder force him forward making his forehead now collide with her chin. She lets out a loud scream of pain, shoving him away and shouting obscenities. He rubs at the pained skin, wincing in discomfort before turning towards the loud interruption with a murderous glare.

Who the fuck was it?

Nam Joo-Sung stands quivering in apparent fear looking like he's seconds away from urinating himself, his knees knocking together viciously.

A deer in the headlights, his eyes are as huge and terrified as one.

"I--um well you see.... I forgot to water the plants....you both look angry. Scary. You don't want an explanation. I'm going. Gone. I'll just. Go." He stutters out nonsensical, suddenly grabbing the plants and he watches as the frightened man awkwardly lifts the pots, cursing when the soil falls out dirting his clothes and the wooden floors, then he falls to his knees scooping it back into the pots, crawling backwards until he's out the door.

They both stare at the door.

Awkward silence remaining even with the man's departure.

And then a vibration fills the air, she jumps as if broken from her stupor reaching into her tiny bag and retrieving her phone. He can barely hear her over the beating of his own heart but he catches the disappointed look she sends his way, they can't continue this.

"Yes. I understand, we'll be right there."

Grabbing his briefcase he takes a moment with his back turned to her to catch his breath, collect himself. He's Vincenzo Cassano, not some prepubescent teenager. He can control himself, control is his middle name.

Then he turns back around and loses all his hard worked composure.

She's right in his space, rubbing absently at her neck as she looks at him.

"We'll finish this later. Don't think I'm going to let you off easy, I always finish what I start." She promises, pointedly looking his lips before grinning then boldly she lightly smacks him twice on his cheeks, "Pick your jaw off the ground, we have to go."

Her long hair bounces over her shoulder as she skips away, his eyes locked on the hypnotic sway of her hips. Her hands are cutely by her side, her signature walk that he had found ridiculous before. He doesn't view it the same way now.

Next time, there will be no interruptions he will make sure of it. Even if he has to kill someone.

#vincenzo #vincenzo cassano #hong cha young #I live for their tension #that flick scene undid me #when they kiss I might lose my shit #they'll hear me scream in Korea #and Italy #I love teasing #Chazenzo #that's what I've been calling them #joo sung is their deer #🥴🥴

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anoutlandishfanfic · 3 years

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Metamorphosis Ch 28 - La Dame Blanche

Finally! An update!! Thank you all for your patience!! We’re slowly making progress -- and so is Claire!!

Many thanks to betas @thefraserwitch and @walkinginland for their help... and keeping my feet to the fire.

You can find previous chapters here on Tumblr or over at AO3.

Nearly 10pm — Still the 21st of February, 1744 Jamie.

“Talk to me, Murtagh.”

Claire’s directive reached over my shoulder and took firm hold of my godfather.

“Oh, aye?” he squirmed slightly, unsure of his task. “What shall I tell ye, then?”

Her grip on my arm tightened as she labored through another of what she called contractions, her brow deeply furrowed and her breath coming in short gasps.

“Tell her stories,” I provided for her. “Jus talk to her… anythin’ to take her mind off things.”

This was met with great approval and he launched into a tale — at my expense.

“Have I told ye of the time yer numpty there tried to teach his sister’s wee cheetie to swim?”

I could hear the unbridled mirth in his voice, could see the massive grin stretching across his face even though my back was to him. It was Murtagh’s favorite story of my youth — and I was certain he had told her already — but I honestly didn’t mind being the subject of ridicule if it brought some small measure of comfort to my wife in her agony.

“Christ, ye’ve told it a hundred times over,” I protested in jest, dipping my head to place a soft kiss behind her ear as I dug my thumbs into the place at the base of her spine as she’d shown me.

“Ye canna be borin’ her wi’ tha’ one.”

I caught the barest hint of a smile in her eyes behind the pain and my heart soared.

Murtagh harrumphed at my interjection, suggesting, “Well, I could tell her o’ the time ye ruined yer da’s—“

“Tell her of the wee gomeral, ye old coot,” I grumbled, interrupting him before he could explain just what had become of my father’s best shirt as a result of my trying to impress a particular lass in the village.

Our companion chuckled to himself as he settled in for a good tale.

“Jenny’d nursed the wee slip o’ a thing back to health, aye?” Murtagh begun slowly, savoring the memories. “It’d been the runt o’ the litter an’ it’s mam wouldna feed it, ye see, so the lass took it within the house an’ fed it milk an’ cream an’ the like…”

Claire’s breath caught in a helpless whimper as something within her changed and my heart turned over in my chest. Her fingernails dug painfully into my skin — just as the talons of that wee fiend had all those years ago.

“She’d named it Mungo,” Murtagh continued, entirely unaware of the goings-on within our nest — completely taken back to time and place of his story, “an’ the wee cheetie had complete command of the kitchen… patrolin’ the pantry for enemy mice like a braw wee soldier.”

“Show me wha’ to do, Sorcha,” I pleaded, pressing my cheek against hers.

She turned and kissed me — hard — taking me completely by surprise and stealing all the breath from my lungs. Everything around us melted away as her soul reached out for mine, tugging and pulling with all her might. I gave in readily, offering up everything within me… all the strength, the will, and drive I possessed.

I kept my hands busy, not lifting them to her face as I maybe would have otherwise, but continued my massage of her spasming muscles. My fingers traced along her spine as my palms moved up her back, giving attention to the unyielding tendons I found along my way. I found her shoulders hunched near up to her ears and I knew that could do her no good.

“Right here, mo chridhe,” I showed her with a gentle caress across her shoulder blades. “Relax your arms, lean in to me… I’ll hold ye up.”

She did as encouraged, the loop of her arms around my neck loosening as a low, murmuring groan began to bubble up from within her. Her face turned into me as she rested her head on my shoulder, curling inward as the tone of her protestations became almost growl-like.

It was a considerable change from before and I thought these were more productive… less fearful and altogether rather like those I’d heard time and time again from the births I’d witnessed in the fields and byres of home.

Christ, how she hated my comparison.

“Aye, that’s the way,” I crooned. “Make all the wee noises ye like.”

Murtagh still hadn’t noticed that I’d been having my own conversation with my wife and that neither of us were paying any attention to him… It wasn’t worth interrupting him and perhaps as the contraction eased, the noise would become a welcome distraction again, but for now —

Claire was in a world of her own.

Her shoulders now sufficiently relaxed, my hands drifted back down to her hips. She’d begun to sway them again — a helpful action, she’d informed me earlier — and the low growl had risen to a steady hum. Setting my thumbs back into motion forthwith, we moved together for quite a while before she once again fell silent.

…

Claire.

Jamie helped me turn, allowing me to sink down onto the mattress and rest against his solid chest.

He was laughing… but silently, the vibrations doing wonders to slow my racing heart. It took me a moment to realize just what was so funny, but it was soon obvious.

Murtagh.

Jamie’s godfather was fully invested in the tale he was telling, completely oblivious as to what we were doing and instead absorbed in every detail of the recalled situation at hand.

What was it?

Ah, yes. The bloody cat.

I slid my eyes shut, a soft smile tugging at my lips.

How many times had I heard that one while we were on Jamie’s trail?

But, still, he knew it was one of my favorites and by all accounts it seemed to be one of his too.

My husband’s hand lifted to my face, brushing back the curls that clung to my damp brow and cheeks. I sighed heavily and turned my face into him, placing a kiss in the middle of his palm. A low rumble of delight ran through him as he tipped my chin up for a kiss on the mouth, the last vestiges of my latest contraction melting away as he shifted me in his arms.

And, so, it was in this manner — dressed in nothing but my shift, the nearly transparent material of which plastered against my skin, my hair a riotous mess of curls around my face, and lying cradled in my husband’s arms with my legs spread wide — that the captain of the Demeter found us as he came bounding into the cabin… with half the crew hot on his heels.

Before I could so much as blink, Jamie had extricated himself from beneath me and was using his body as a barricade to block any access to my person, dirk drawn. Murtagh had done much the same and leapt towards the door with the speed of a snapping crocodile, a nasty snarl contorting his face into an expression of such ferocity that I’d never seen before.

“Ye gave me yer word, Captain,” Murtagh spat. “Ye said ye could handle yer men… tha’ ye’d no’ be violatin’ my lady’s privacy in such a manner.”

As if in confirmation that he could not, in fact, keep control of his crew, they began to speak as one, shouting over one another and lunging towards us until the room was an overwhelming cacophony of threats of violence. I couldn’t make heads or tails of any of it, save one repeating word.

Witch.

Oh, bloody fucking hell.

They blamed me for the storm.

“Throw her overboard!” A raucous shout broke out above all the others.

“Aye!” came another, “Send her to the depths where she belongs!”

The very air in my lungs vanished with these words and bright spots flashed before my eyes. I reached out blindly for Jamie, desperate to take hold of something steady — but came up with nothing but empty space.

His name rolled off my tongue, parting my lips with a scream that started deep within me and multiplied until the sound bore no resemblance to my own voice.

Lightning split the sky in two and the room was awash with an unearthly light as a mighty wave surged against the side of the ship as my husband turned back to face me, the impact of the surf sending the both of us sideways across the mattress.

Jamie managed to catch hold of me, taking the blow against the wall upon himself, and it appeared from my low vantage point that only Murtagh remained upright. The rest of the men had been bowled over completely by the might of the storm and they remained where they lay… their verbal assaults suddenly silenced.

“She is no witch,” Murtagh finally spoke, raising his voice to be heard.

“She is La Dame Blanche,” he continued. “If even one of ye approaches her out of harm, she’ll curse both ye an’ yer kin to come for many a generation… I’ve seen her do it myself.”

Jamie’s arms around me loosened, now that we’d come to a secure stop against the wall, and I struggled to sit up.

“No, Sorcha,” he commanded, his voice urgent as he scrambled over me, effectively placing me between his protection and the barrier behind me. “Stay there.”

I shook my head wildly, my eyes wide. The last place I wanted to be right now was flat on my back.

“Help — me — up,” I bit out as I tried to roll onto my side by myself.

He eventually did as told — guided by a swift pinch to a tender spot within arm’s reach — and helped me sit up against the wall. He then had the audacity to turn his back on me, settling himself into a defensive position.

My vision began to cut out again in great, black blobs and I grabbed for him. My fingers brushed against his shirtsleeve and I latched on, yanking him back towards me by a fistful.

“Aye, ye’ve got me,” he assured dryly, moving only marginally closer as his attention was still firmly affixed on the ship’s crewmen and his fingers anxiously tapping against the hilt of his dirk. “I’m right here.”

“Put — that thing — down — and help me,” I bit out, using what little oxygen I had left in my lungs as my lower half once again threatened to be separated from the rest of me.

Jamie turned and looked at me — really looked at me — and nodded slowly, moving until he was right in front of me. He lay the knife within easy reach and offered himself up to me.

But the contraction had now settled in with an intensity that shook me to the very marrow of my bones. It assaulted me from all sides: making Jamie’s touch suddenly painful, the woolen fabric beneath me transforming to needled barbs, and the ruckus of the men bent on my destruction an endless, agonizing cacophony of damnation.

“Claire?”

I had shut my eyes up tight some time ago, willing my surroundings to melt away, to be suddenly back home at Lallybroch with Jenny at my side… but it was not Jenny’s voice that called to me now.

“Mo chridhe, ye mustna hold yer breath like that.”

I felt my leg jerk in reflex, my foot connecting with something solid before recoiling and heard a correlating ooof.

“Oh, aye,” my husband muttered. “Kick me all ye like, Sassenach, jus’ open yer eyes for a wee bit, aye?”

I did no such thing, incapable of even the slightest voluntary movement.

“Christ, ye’re as stubborn as any Scot,” he sighed and I felt a small measure of accomplishment, but Jamie was not about to give up his case.

“Kick, pinch, hit… I dinna mind… do anything ye like to me, mo nighean donn,” Jamie tried a different approach. “I willna touch ye if ye dinna wish it — ye ken I willna — but I’ll be ticklin’ tha’ wee foot of yer’s if ye dinna open those bonnie eyes an’ look a’ me!!”

I cracked one eye open and glared at him with all the force I could muster, but the look of relief that washed over his face as I did so had me opening the other in short order.

“A Dhia, ye ken how to scare a man,” Jamie shook his head slowly, a rueful smile now tugging at his lips as he realized I was returning to semi-consciousness of my surroundings.

“Forget them, mmm?” He passed a look back over his shoulder towards a dwindling crowd. “Murtah’s tellin’ ‘em of all the wondrous things ye can do… they’ll be back about their business in a moment or two.”

He shifted, returning his gaze to me as he moved even closer — though making no move to touch me.

“Just focus on me, aye?” Jamie offered, his blue eyes as deep and strong as the ocean surrounding us. “We’ll take it one pain at a time.”

Lifting a trembling hand, I reached for him, my sweaty palm open and empty. He took it between both of his, squeezing it tight.

“Aye, Sorcha,” he swallowed hard. “Tha’s the way.”

Together.

He sat beside me like that, steady and calm, until my contraction began to ease.

My breath was coming easier, but still ragged as I pulled him closer. Eagerly obliging, he took me back into his arms, helping me move so that I could recline against him.

I felt a slow but steady trickle of warm fluid trail down my thigh as I shifted and quickly tried to stop my bladder.

“Fuck,” I spat, pulling my shift out of the way of the flow.

Overtaken by a hoard of men and you piss yourself.

Brilliant, Beauchamp.

Jamie grabbed for something to mop up my mess — coming up with an already half sea-soaked petticoat — and made a halfhearted comment of reassurance.

“Oh, shove it,” I hissed, eyeing our company. “I could have at least made it to the bucket.”

My husband stopped what he was doing and looked down at me with an odd expression dancing in his eyes.

“What?” I demanded.

“Well, tis jus’ that I dinna expect ye to catch all yer waters in a bucket, Sassenach,” he chuckled to himself. “Even if ye were in a room that didna sway an’ had a midwife by yer side.”

“My… oh,” the truth of what he was saying hit me quite suddenly.

Jamie’s bemused smile bloomed into a bonafide grin, having properly identified amniotic fluid before I did.

I shook my head slowly, letting it tip back to rest against his shoulder as I muttered, “Jesus H Roosevelt Christ.”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #metamorphosis au #chapter 28 #la dame blanche

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spirits-child · 4 years

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Index/ Master list

PDF HELLENISM MASTER POST OF LINKS IG: https://linktr.ee/thisismesolar

Informational posts in English and Spanish (not all posts are translated, just started)

Hey guys! This is mainly masterpost was created to help you find my posts, They are divided and organized so i hope this helps a little!

Here i’ll add my other social media because i do not want to do a post just for that so.

personal blog @royactuallystudies

Casting a circle - Versión en Español

Warding

Visualization

Grounding

Banishing masterpost

The elements

Materials being a witch

Is being a witch dangerous?

theban alphabet

Correspondences of the days of the week

A spiritual slump and leaving your path aside for some time

The importance of a personal practice and not following blindly what others say

Working with deities in general

What are epithets and their importance

Research on Sulis (Roman deity)

how i think you should start with hellenism (an ask)

There are not beginner deities

Vocabulary regarding hellenism

Categories of the theoi

The myths of creations and science

Everything about offerings

Devotional acts in a nutshell

On prayers in hellenism

Changing from x religion to paganism

Apollo offerings

Apollo epithets

On Yannick Vernet considering Apollo a chthonic deity

Why is Apollo confused with Helios/ a sun deity? (he is not the sun god btw)

Apollo and Artemis as the archer gods and what it represented for the greeks.

Aphrodite Offerings

Aphrodite epithets

Ares Epithets

Dionysus offerings

Kinda poetic shit my 8 y/o wrote

The truth on communicating with deities

Deity signs

deity visions (ask)

Bonding with deities ( a rambling)

On fearing the gods (more rambling)

Reasons to not do oaths you can’t fulfill

Xenia

The rage of the gods

How to pray in hellenism

Pantheons

Myths

Theurgy

Offerings for deities

How to communicate with deities

How to find your patron deities

Spirit guides + how to find them

Wheel of the year:

is it ok to celebrate sabbats without being wiccan/pagan? (badly written ask because of bopping to bts and sleep deprivation)

Yule

Samhain

Imbolc

Ostara

Beltane

Litha

Lammas

Mabon

Spirit work

Spirit work is based on research

Types of spirits

Familiars

Am i ready for spirit work?

Negative/positive entities

Spirit work books, tips, and posts to use as resources

How does energy work

Aura colors + anatomy of the aura

Pentacles

Tarot

-the major arcana

Read fire yes/no

Types of divination that are not tarot

Runes

Scrying

Stichomancy

Tea leaves and tasseomancy

Bone reading

Spells

Types of spells

Enchanting jewelry + spell

Create your own spells

Self confidence spell (ask)

Sigils

Create your own sigils

How to charge sigils

help me deal with people i don’t like sigil

help me focus sigil

May my anxiety end sigil

I will stop overthinking

Astrology

Lunar cycle

sun signs

moon signs

raising/ascendant signs

Plants/herbs/crystals

Poisonous herbs

Gardens when you are a city witch

Crystals

Special care of some crystals

Crystals correspondences

Counting crows

Lucid dreaming

Energy

enchanting objects

Visualization while meditating

Shadow work

Black salt

Dream symbolism

Dream interpretation

Spirit healing

Faery magick

Moon spells

How to develop psychic powers

Clairvoyance

Clairsentience

Clairaudience

Claircognizance

Alchemy symbols

Ancestor work

Possessions

Angel numbers

Empaths

Color magick

Types of salt

Graveyard etiquette + protection

Types of water

rose water

Navigation through my blog

written by me (all the informative blogs that are written by me... if it’s not obvious)

asks i have answered

the random things witchy (sometimes not witchy) related, mainly me ranting about things, or jokes but im not funny

Last update: 18th of January

#witchcraft #witchblr #baby witch #beginner witch #hellenism #hellenic pagan #hellenic deities #written by me (roy)

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appleflavoredkitkats · 4 years

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dream smp war 2 updates

doing a second chain post! i thought it would be appropriate if i did since it seems like there’s a new era of wars coming our way.

(this post will keep updating by reblogged additions, so feel free to save this post somewhere or follow me to check for new updates every now and then!)

and ya’know, i thought wouldn’t be able to do this, but i realize that where else am i gonna infodump but here? so yea. here i go again.

(if you wanna check the first dream smp war post-war updates, it’s here!)

without further ado, time to explain whatever the heck just happened last stream! timeline of events might be funky because a lot of things happened, but i’ll try my best to at least mention everything that went down in the streams.

wilbur, tommy, tubbo, eret, quackity, and a confused hbomb’s stream - september 22

summary: schlatt and quackity win presidency, tommy and wilbur are exiled, some friends have become traitors, some foes have become allies, and technoblade joins the game.

the first streams that came from this honestly were very calm. legit the calm before the storm. tubbo was hanging out with niki, eret, and hbomb and eret reveals to tubbo that his first pufferfish that was stolen by fundy was actually in eret’s possession all along. eret gladly returns the beloved pufferfish to tubbo, and they rename it back to it’s original name “phukkit”.

then, everyone begins going in the server as each campaign stands on the podium waiting for the event to begin. wilbur, tommy, and tubbo first stray away from the group for a bit to watch l’manberg one last time. tubbo introduces to them his secret bunker in the lake for them to seek refuge just in case pog2020 loses. inside the bunker’s chests are some freshly brewed potions for wilbur and tommy to use in the future.

tubbo then brings tommy to the benches outside tommy’s little house and they play one more music disc together. here, tubbo gifts tommy the pufferfish he just gained earlier today, and tommy promised to treasure it dearly.

now, the event begins, and wilbur begins announcing the results. luckily, everyone is here this time. in last place is coconut2020. a funny thing about this is that fundy actually committed tax fraud and got around 100,000+ votes to be counted in the google form just from coding some bot to vote for them. in third place is schlatt, in second is quackity, and pog2020 wins the number one vote.

here’s where the plot twist happens: quackity and schlatt apparently agreed to combine their votes if pog2020 doesn’t win. therefore, quackity and schlatt got 47% of the votes as pog only got 46%, making schlatt and quackity the shared president of l’manberg. tommy protests to these decisions, but wilbur accepts it with ease, and the two merely step down the podium in shame as they watch schlatt take a speech.

schlatt went on full dictator mode-- the first decree he signed as president is to revoke wilbur and tommy’s presence in l’manberg, exiling them. tommy was confused at first before wilbur demanded him to run to the bunker. schlatt immediately conducts a search party for him, electing tubbo as his right hand man to personally hunt the two down. obviously, tubbo would do it hesitantly, and he doesn’t actually get to meet the two in the bunker at all.

a lot of the nation was quite torn from the election results. quackity and george seem to be supportive of schlatt, niki, tubbo, and eret seem to despise schlatt, and fundy and jack seem to just blindly support him as well despite being l’manbergians. punz, ponk, and hbomb were there as well, but it was quite difficult to know who they were siding with since they kinda just got pushed around by everyone at the end.

using invisibility potions, wilbur and tommy escape the bunker to go somewhere in the forest to find their new home. they find a nice hill to make a small house in, and they later name this new nation “pogtopia”. they run into some conflicts though as wilbur and tommy forget to bring an enderchest with them, and they need some of the materials in them now if they want to build up a defense.

and then, in the middle of nowhere, techno tweeted:

wilbur claims he doesn’t want to trust techno right away because he was american, but they do consider having him as an ally later on.

firstly, let’s get back to l’manberg. upon schlatt’s request, the walls of l’manberg are being torn down. i heard somewhere that this might’ve been done thanks to fundy’s suggestion, but i’m not sure. everyone complies, and wilbur and tommy visit l’manberg one last time before it gets taken apart. as they watch fundy and tubbo tear down the wall, wilbur sings the l’manbergs national anthem. (the wall also eventually gets expanded past l’manberg, but i’m not sure how far they’ve built it)

speaking of fundy, fundy’s kind of in a weird place right now. he seems to unhesitantly side with schlatt in this election, and allows his policies easily as if he didn’t care about anyone else in l’manberg. knowing this, wilbur actually disowns fundy. it wasn’t in front of him, but he does say that he is extremely hurt by him in front of techno and tommy.

before i talk about the rescue of techno, we gotta go back to quackity and schlatt for a bit. quackity actually caught tommy visiting his place to get an enderchest, but i believe he doesn’t tell schlatt about it. quackity is quite interesting because while he does believe in some of the policies schlatt believes in, he also believes that schlatt is taking this dictatorship too far. even he thought exiling tommy and wilbur was a big deal, and he aims to be the voice of reason to be able to change schlatt’s mind about his policies. moreover, he wants to discuss matters with tommy and wilbur as well to get on their side too, but wilbur doesn’t wanna talk to quackity because, fourth wall break, he believes they’re progressing far into the story too much if they do, and honestly, valid reason lmao.

do note that quackity is trying his best to tear down schlatt’s evil dictatorship. he’s secretly been advocating for niki and is helping her escape schlatt’s grasp when she needs it, and he eventually talked to schlatt near the end of the stream to be more mindful of quackity’s opinions because without him, schlatt wouldn’t have won. there’s some toxic relationship plot device being used here between schlatt and quackity, and i’m interested to see how this will all play out.

back to tommy and wilbur, they call techno and actually consider his help. tommy says he will run back to spawn and tell him when to join so that he can bring him to their secret base. eret tries to help them and supply them with goods, but tommy and wilbur refuses his help profusely. finally, when tommy reaches spawn, techno joins, and my god, all the three streams i watched just went “TECHNOBLADE????” all at once.

on schlatt’s end, he claims that techno’s arrival was part of schlatt’s plan all this time. on the other hand, techno claims he’s only here for wilbur and tommy. i fully believe techno would be with wilbur and tommy, but of course, i can never be sure. just don’t discount the possibility of a traitor!techno happening sometime soon.

even if ponk tried to kill techno and tommy as they tried to escape, tommy was able to kill ponk before techno got hurt. they eventually arrived to pogtopia, and there, wilbur declares that he will be a different man from what they know of him pre-election. i’m thinking there’s going to be more violence surrounding the war, and also some strategic planning. they want to get tubbo as a secret agent for them to tear schlatt and quackity apart, eventually leading to the downfall of the dictatorship. niki might also be someone crucial here because she and wilbur have been exchanging messages secretly, so there’s going to be some niki action too.

then, schlatt makes another announcement. after the walls have been torn down, he declares l’manberg gets a new name-- manberg. niki protests, and wilbur and tommy and rightfully disgusted, but schlatt wasn’t going to do anything about it.

everyone in pogtopia, before they can stack up on some resources, have to go back to the dream smp because they comedically have to get a visa for one day for when ninja joins the minecraft server. they were greeted peacefully (and techno steals some potatoes!!!), and it was definitely fun to see so many people in the server all at once. evetually, schlatt does grant them the visa, and they leave. they talk to tubbo one last time, and tubbo warns them about techno being allegedly “paid” by schlatt to betray tommy and wilbur. tommy regards it for now, but after that, they leave to return to pogtopia.

in pogtopia, they begin mining for resources. in the ravine they found below their base, tommy found a strip mine that leads EXACTLY BACK to his bunker. this will be used for a secret passage for them just in case they discreetly want to return to the dream smp.

this is kinda where the main plot stuff ends for wilbur and tommy’s streams, but in eret’s stream, apparently he and bad found pogtopia. they find techno silently, gifting him with potatoes, and leaving promptly after.

on quackity’s end, he’s really trying to convince schlatt to become more open-minded about this entire presidency. there’s some real tension going on between these two, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if they break it off for quackity to join pogtopia. it really seems like they’re hinting it to become that way.

now, it seems like everything’s done, but nope. on eret’s stream, fundy single handedly burned down the l’manberg flag that niki built. FUNDY BETRAYAL AND ERET REDEMPTION ARC. niki is LIVID at fundy, but she wasn’t able to talk to him as he left the server immediately. we don’t know what fundy’s true intentions are, but it’s assumed that he’s siding with schlatt for now. eret at least tells niki they’ll try to rebuild it with concrete so it can’t be destroyed.

JUST AS ALL THIS SHIT CONCLUDES, SAPNAP JOINS. he only joins so he can catch up with everything he missed. eret and niki explain everything to him, and sapnap says he will have to talk to dream about this. he then leaves afterwards.

conclusion: BE HYPED. BE HYPED FOR PLOT. SHOW YOUR APPRECIATION TO THE ENTIRETY OF THE DREAM SMP FOR THIS AMAZING PLOT. DON’T SEND THEM HATE; MAKE CONTENT FOR IT INSTEAD. these people probably worked hard improv-ing/making plots for these, so show your love and appreciation for them!!!!!

#dream smp war #dream smp #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #tubbo #fundy #nihachu #theeret #jschlatt #quackity #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #technoblade

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