#having trouble finding one may have to build one rip

[softerpixels]

get in loser, we're buying a farm!

whitley durham // squeamish, ambitious, high maintenance. aspiring country caretaker — founder for the home sweet home legacy by @birdietrait

#ts4 #ts4 legacy #ts4 gameplay #simblr #hshlegacy #hshgen1 #whitley durham #we do not actually have a farm... yet #having trouble finding one may have to build one rip #but i'm excited!!! #also made her parents

[popamolly]

‘ INTERNAL REDEMPTION ’ LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR

summary. In the fiery depths, she captures the attention of Lucifer, who senses a unique purity in her soul. With his help, (Y/N) finds herself on the path to redemption and self-discovery with dangerous trouble along the way.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

warnings. lucifer morningstar x stripper!fem!reader, she/her pronouns, valentino exists, eventual smut, mention of death, biblical references, sex work, sexual themes, trauma, abuse, murder

author’s note. inspired by @punching-pentagrams and their amazing ongoing story “Love In as Hopeless Place”, it encouraged me to write my own fic about Lucifer. go check out their story, it is so good and deserves more love!

In the dimly lit, pulsating world of Club Elysium, where the air was thick with anticipation and desire, a mysterious aura surrounded a captivating figure on the stage. Under the flickering neon lights, you moved with a mesmerizing grace that defied the earthly realm. Dressed in glistening attire that caught the reflections of the vibrant hues around her, you became an ethereal presence, drawing the attention of every gaze in the room.

Your movements were a dance of contradictions – an alluring blend of sensuality and innocence. You twirled and swayed to the rhythm of the music, casting a spell upon the enchanted audience.

Unbeknownst to the patrons of Club Elysium, you were more than just an exotic dancer seeking to enthrall with her physical prowess. Your celestial grace, forgotten in the afterlife coil she now inhabited, manifested in the subtle elegance of her performance. As you moved, you felt a distant echo of a certain purpose, an inexplicable connection to something beyond the neon-lit stage.

In the hazy ambiance, Valentino, the enigmatic owner of Club Elysium, watched from the shadows, his eyes reflecting one of red burning lust, but it was more than just lust for you— no, it was something more— it was a thirst for power that had him grinning from ear to ear. Valentino knew that in this corner of Hell he owned everything, even you.

As the music reached its crescendo, your dance reached its zenith. The room held its breath, suspended in a moment where hell and celestial intertwined. You were always the ballerina in the jelwery box, the beautiful antique that Valentino had in his grasp to show off and praise. Though he may own you outside the building you made sure to show him through your dancing, that you were the one that owned the stage. He hated when you went off script or changed the choreography but you made sure to do it on purpose and on nights you knew he was watching you.

That was your little dose of rebellion, a little taste of freedom you could only wish to have. You were content with your situation though, it could’ve been worse. At least with Valentino you were paid, clothed, and feed with an overall decent place to live. Being one of his toys had its perks— you couldn’t complain. Especially when there were those who had it so much worse than you.

“You jus’ love angerin’ him, don’t you doll?” Your coworker, Angel Dust, asked as you entered the dressing room that you and the other dancers shared. The smell of makeup and cheap perfume filled your senses, calming you with the sense of familiarity, “Cause last I checked, that wasn’t what we rehearsed.”

“Well,” You chuckled as you sat on the couch, its fabric ripped and white stuffing nearly popping out the sides, “I just thought that my choreo was better, and by the sound of that crowd and the money on stage, it was.”

“Heh,” Angel couldn’t help but envy your confidence when it came to Valentino, who owned you both in more ways than one and yet you always found a way to yank on the chains without consequence. A part of Angel loathed you for it.

You could sense the mood shift in Angel, not that you cared but you weren’t exactly heartless either. With a sigh, you get up from the couch, ignoring your aching feet as you join Angel’s side, looking into the vanity mirror so you could touch up your makeup, “Trust me, if my act wasn’t purity and innocence it would be a different story. Lucky for me, bruises and marks on my body wouldn’t sell too well.”

“Yeah, count it on luck shortcake.” With that Angel left, pushing another girl out the way angrily while snatching the drink out her hand. You could only sigh, not intending on upsetting him more but as always, your intentions don’t matter when your words spoke otherwise. It had been so long since you had a decent human connection, you were just a bit rusty.

“My sweets,” The sudden sound of Valentino’s voice had the room go silent, the air becoming so thick you were sure you’d might suffocate in it, “Can I have the room please?”

With hushed scared whispers and nervous glances, you and the other girls make your way to the door. You had hoped you could sneak past him under the cover of the other women who all but rushed passed Valentino but his slender hand caught your forearm quick, gripping it with such force that you were slightly shocked by the pain he caused— it wasn’t like him to be rough with you, “Not you, darling. We have to have a chat, don’t we mio caro?”

You turn to look at him with a frown, “About what? My performance?”

“Oh I would love to talk about that little stunt you pulled but I need you for something a bit more important,” Valentino yanks you further into the room, locking the door behind him with his other hand before slinging you against the vanity, bottles of perfume falling over and onto the ground as the desk shakes violently. Your employer towers over you with ease making you shudder beneath his fiery gaze, “I need something done and I need it done right, I trust that you can accomplish this task, yes?”

What shit was he getting you into now? You were done with porn, you had paid a hefty price to alter your contract with him and you weren’t going to slip back into the void now, not when you were so far ahead, “I won’t be one of your pornstars, Val. We had a deal.”

Valentino laughs, his pointy fingernail dragging along your cheek while he licks his lips, “This isn’t about that principessa, this is a more delicate matter. Think you’re up for it?”

“I don’t have much of a choice do I?” You yank your head away from his hands, lowering your gaze into a slight glare.

“This is why I always liked you, dove. You learn quick.”

“If you were going to tell me to send in a whore Val, I wouldv’e just asked you to send Angel Dust!” Vox glitched with anger, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration as he turned around in his chair, his claw like hands gripping onto the table with such force that it left a mark, “What makes this slut is any different from him?!”

It was hard to bite back your tongue but you did, unwillingly submitting to your role as you stood before the V’s with your eyes to the ground, not daring to even look as confident at you usually were. Not because you were scared of them, no, you were scared of embarrassing Valentino. Your boss might have forgiven you for your countless stunts but when it came to matters of business with the V’s, you knew your place.

“Angel dust thinks he is on this path to redemption, let him stay in his delusion but until I can break him fully he will never be loyal to me. Not as loyal as (Y/N) here…” Valentino wraps his hand around your neck, forcing your head up to look at Vox— who for a split second was taken back by your beauty, “I have broken (Y/N) time and time again, she would do anything for me, isn’t that right (Y/N)?”

You closed your eyes, “Yes, Valentino.”

“Good.” Valentino pushes you toward Vox, making you stumble into him, forcing him to catch you in his arms, “Quite the vixen, she would surely catch the eyes of any overlord.”

“Even the King of Hell himself?” Vox tips your chin up with his index finger, looking into your eyes with a devilishly grin that makes you shiver.

“Asmodeus throws the biggest parties in the Pride Ring that is filled with all kinds of debauchery, especially for his birthday.” Valentino explains, leaning back in his chair as he crosses his right leg over the other, exhaling out a long drag of pink smoke, “Every one of importance will be there since it isn’t just a party but a show of status.”

“And..what? Your pretty toy is just supposed to waltz in there and get the attention of any overlord that wants to fuck her?” Velvette finally tears her gaze away from her phone, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Well it is an important party of one of Lucifer’s friends—”

“Which means he is bound to be there.” Vox grins, “Get close to the king and we get closer to controlling Hell.”

“And what makes you so sure he’ll entertain such..” Velvette looks at you with a roll of her eyes, “From what I hear Lucifer is loyal to Lilith, no one has seen him with another woman on his arm and it’s been 7 years, hashtag faithful.”

“Ah, well, 7 years is a long time to go without intimacy…I say the man is touch starved and would like some attention.” Valentino says, “Anyone can still get lonely, no matter how faithful.”

“I like the way you think Val,” Vox grips your chin as you grit your teeth. “And I think your little whore here will do just nicely.”

Before you know it was the day of Asmodeus’ birthday party. The V’s gave you the run down of the plan and how you were supposed to get close to the King of Hell himself— who you haven’t even seen in person for as long as you been hell. Which was a few years by now. You were a simple lowlife, you kept to yourself and tried to survive, only to end up within his grasp. Was he as cruel as people say? ‘What sort of question is that? Of course he was! He was the King of fucking Hell, which last time you checked, wasn’t given to just anyone.’

Of all the people, of everyone in Hell, it just has to be you. Because of your cursed deal with Val, you were stuck in a continuous limbo that you couldn’t escape from. Damn you and your loyalty, damn it all if it will end up with you dead ( again ) on the steps of Lucifer’s palace. This wasn’t fair— but then again, when has your situation ever been fair?

“Oh, you look just like a doll.” Valentino ruffled with the fake angel wings that adorned your back, fixing and prodding with whatever to make you more presentable, “Like an angel. Hell, upon just a glance mio caro you might have been able to get away with actually being one.”

And as you glance at your reflection in the mirror you felt a sudden sharp pain in the center of your forehead. Only fragments of memories came flooding your mind like a crashing wave. It was all so blurry but the word Angel held some sort of weight on you but you couldn’t place exactly what.

You held onto your head, trying to steady your breathing and relaxing your nerves as Valentino continues to add the finishing touches to your look.

“Get it together, dove.” Valentino meets your gaze in the reflection, “I hope you won’t disappoint me.”

“No..” The pain in your head quickly fades away as soon as it came, “I can do this.”

“Good, because it is just about your turn to be presented for the auction.”

The auction. Asmodeus does it for sport at every single one of his parties but now that this is his birthday party, this auction is the biggest one yet. It is where he finds Hell’s most beautiful prized possessions, not limiting to actual sinners. The hope was to capture Lucifer’s attention as he would be in the crowd through this angel facade, and pray that he would bet on you. And if that didn’t work, then you would have to move on to plan B. And you didn’t like plan b.

Valentino wished you luck as you stood behind the curtain to the center stage, disappearing into the shadows to leave you on your own and this mission that was screwed from the get go.

“And last but not least, I present to you—! what is the object’s name again?” The announcer whispers, putting his microphone away from his face to get a confirmation from another employee, “Ah! The pure and innocent, (Y/N)!”

The curtain suddenly opens, the spotlight from above blinding you in away that made you shield your eyes from the brightness. You squint, looking upon a sea of red lustful eyes looking over your figure with curiosity. You take a deep breath, as you played the part of a shy girl, slowly bringing your hands to cover yourself even though the white thin laced gown left little to the imagination.

“Hubba hubba! Would you look at that boys?” Asmodeus’ eyes nearly turn into hearts at the sight of you, “And I thought nothing could even look so angelic in Hell!”

“What a beaut’” Mammon agrees.

“Indeed.” Lucifer sat beside his friends, trying to cover his boredom with peaked interest as he looks in your direction. This whole thing was pretty fucked up to him but that was just the way of life down here, there’s no changing that— no changing people when it is just in their nature. Now usually he wouldn’t indulge such things but he was the King of Hell, and he had to play the part to maintain order even though he longed for nothing but to be constructing rubber ducks right now.

“500!” A man in the crowd closer to the stage shouts.

The announcer points in the man’s direction with enthusiasm, “I hear 500! What about 550? Do I hear 550?”

“600!” Another shouts.

“600 to the gentleman in red! But do I hear a 650? 650?”

Asmodeus sits back in his seat, taking another swig of his whiskey. Mammon looks at his friend in disbelief as the unknown sinners below them begin to shout various of numbers for you, “Is she not to the Lustful Overlords taste?”

“Ah, I have so many who do the innocent act. It gets boring after awhile. But if you’re interested…you should buy her.” Asmodeus smirks, shaking the single ice cube in his glass as he signals to the waitress for another.

“She ain’t my type, but—” Mammon gets a sudden idea, “Lucifer should have her. I’m sure he gets off to the Angel shit don’t you your highness?”

Lucifer tips his hat up with his cane, “I am married.”

“To a woman who you haven’t seen in seven years!” Asmodeus rolls his eyes with a loud groan before raising his hand to join the bid, “Lighten up! Good sir, I say 2500!”

“What a doozy! 2500! 2500! Do I hear 3000!?” The announcer nearly jumps from his stool at the amount offered, “Going once! Going twice—!”

“Asmodeus.” Lucifer warned. Not wanting any part in this sinful behavior.

The sound of a gavel rang through the air, finalizing the amount, “And sold to the gentleman in VIP! Your prize will wait outback until you are ready to retrieve it! Enjoy!”

Just like that the plan was working. In just less than five minutes you were sold off like some prize. Your life being in yet another’s hands that wasn’t your own, it was a bit ironic since this life is almost just the same as the one you led on Earth. It was getting harder and harder to distinguish which one was truly Hell.

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost in any other social media.

Be sure to leave a comment & let me know if you want to added to the tag list for this story so you’re updated whenever I drop a new chapter! xo

#𖤐popamollyposts #𖤐popamolly #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel characters #hazbin hotel fiction #hazbin hotel smut #smut #female reader #love #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust

[rapunzelbro]

I've been reading your fabulous Lucifer and tall reader. I found a tiktok for a Lucifer scenario. I thought it was perfect just hiding little duckies all over the castle and hotel for Lucifer to find and to also piss Alastor off. 🙂

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8vdXanP/

The Great Duck Hunt of The Century! Ft. Lucifer & Alastor!

This title is so so so fucking specific. Remember my hiatus? Yeah I don’t remember either. I feel like I like writing for Lucifer and Angel more ngl and silly prompts like these give me inspiration. Idk why anywho enjoy~ Angel , Reader, Lucifer, Alastor Husk

Masterlist Taglist

Throughout your relationship with Lucifer you always found new ways to spice it up in the bed room

If you thought sex well, that too

But you meant something else, and that was The Great Duck Hunt of The Century!

What is it you may ask?

Well let’s just say Lucifer made a bunch of mini ducks out of pure boredom one day with you. So you snagged them all when you two were done with them

And spent the next 7 hours placing 500 in the castle and 500 in the Hazbin Hotel

Why? Because why the fuck not

Lucifer was excited and was happily looking around but when you got a text from Angel you knew you were fucked, screwed, in trouble

“Girl what tf did you do”

“Whatever do you mean?”

Why is Smiles yelling about finding ducks all over the hotel”

“Husk is literally finding them in the liquor bottles and choked on one of them and not the good kinda choke if you know what I mean” “🍆💦”

“I made a scavenger hunt for Lucifer that’s all 🫢”

“You didn’t hide any in my room did you”

“Hell no you’re my friend”

“Aw thank you sweetie💗 might wanna avoid the hotel for a while he is pissed I’ll keep rehiding them though. Ttyl babe~”

“Thanks for the warning”

Yeah uh let’s just say, after Lucifer did find a majority of them. Him being short Didn’t give him an advantage and you mentioned to him there’s a ton left so out comes Lucifer in bird mode

Dude is flying throughout his castle knocking so much shit over in the process to find these ducks and he is so fucking happy? Dude is so glad you did this.

It went on for hours

When you finish counting what he found you announce he found 500/1000

“HOLY SHIT THERES MORE??”

He didn’t know how you had so much dedication but he did and was ready to go to the hotel to find the rest

You texting Angel

“How many did he find?”

“I wanna say 100? This radio demons is ripping this hotel apart for them, Charlie thinks her dad did it but I let her in on it and told Vag. They think it’s funny as fuck. Well Charlie not as much but Vag is dying over here”

“omg did I tell you there’s bets being placed on this shit on if he burns the building down or not? Get your ass over here “

Lucifer makes a portal for you two because stepping into the hotel

Holy

Shit

It was a mess?? There were spots you didn’t even put any that were destroyed

“What the actual fuck?”

Everyone is just at the bar watching shit go down as Alastor is ripping the hotel apart for the ducks.

Lucifer is no where to be seen. This man’s instantly looking for the ducks and fixing up the building as he goes for his daughters sake

Alastor noticing you just appeared and him going up to you with his demon form practically almost fully out from his pissed this man is

“I’m hoping it wasn’t you who did this, or I’m afraid ł’ⱠⱠ ₱ɆⱤ₴Ø₦₳ⱠⱠɎ Ⱨ₳VɆ ₮Ø Ɽł₱ ɎØɄ Ⱡł₥฿ ฿Ɏ Ⱡł₥฿ Ʉ₦₮łⱠ ɎØɄ ⱤɆ₥ØVɆ ɆVɆⱤɎ ₴ł₦₲ⱠɆ Ø₦Ɇ Ø₣ ₮ⱧɆ₴Ɇ ₣Ʉ₵₭ł₦₲ ĐɄ₵₭₴”

His voice getting so fucking loud and static holy shit it was scary but you just back away as quickly as possible before Lucifer comes out with a fuck ton of the mini ducks before running infront of you.

Lucifer and Alastor stare at each other before Lucifer almost fucking launches at his ass for yelling at you

You instantly having to hold him back

“Listen you find these fuckers easily right? Help me find them and I won’t have to kill your little girlfriend”

“Haha fuck you. I’d love to see you try. I’m looking on my own terms “

Yeah he highkey didn’t want to take that chance regardless but he wasn’t lying when he said he was looking on his terms. Him bringing the ducks back to you as he found them

You counting them but Angel distracting you so much you had to double count everything like four times.

When he found them all the hotel surprisingly didn’t burn down, which caused almost everyone to give Husk money

“Hah.. old cats still got it”

Yeah Husk knew it wouldn’t be that dramatic considering if it had any involvement with you, or Lucifer, Lucifer could’ve easily fixed the building before it got to the point of that

He is fucking good

Alastor making the ducks dissolve in thin air once you counted them all and confirmed they were all found and Lucifer mourning the loss of his ducks while you and Charlie awkwardly comfort him.

Alastor instantly going back to his room with the worlds most irritating smile

“Please when you have this.. duck hunting again..you have it NOT HERE”

“Well that went better than I thought..”

And that was the end of the Great Duck Hunt of the century

It was the most fun Lucifer ever had.

And to see Alastor in that state was the icing on the cake.

He loved you so much and was 100% going to make himself a trophy since he found them all

It’s just the little things you do or even in this case the big things that make him appreciate you even more

Especially if it involves pissing off Alastor my god you got hella bonus points for that shit

Lucifer Taglist: @vendetta-ari @brithedemonspawn @katshyperfixations @aphestina @satansmanager @irethepotato @storydays @saturnhas82moons @zamadness

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel #hazbin art #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel valentino x reader #Hazbin hotel Lucifer x reader

[hush-writes-preg]

I watch the harbor every night from my bedroom window. A better partner would be familiar with the look of his boyfriend’s ship by now, but I’m more of a fucktoy than a partner. It’s no surprise that after years of playful sex- often over alcohol- my belly started to swell. The only problem is that my boyfriend is rarely around. His captain only brings the crew to my town once every couple months. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to be.

I haven’t seen him since he knocked me up.

Maybe that’s intentional. Maybe he knew he slipped, and he chose not to come back, afraid of facing his perceived mistake. Perhaps he figured I wouldn’t find him if he did come back, since I can’t even recognize his ship.

Or maybe he hasn’t been able to come back. I worry endlessly that something happened to him, or to his captain, and he may never show up in town again. My hope is that he will.

But I don’t have time to wait around for him anymore. I don’t have time to stare at the harbor from a distant hill and wonder if any figure in the crowd is him. His baby is coming now.

Wordcount: 911

Themes: Birth, unassisted birth

You can see the lights from the town below as you watch the docks in vain. You hear the faint sounds of a bustling city at night and the wind whipping across the water to rattle the windows of your tiny apartment. The old tenement isn't much, but it is cheap, and at least your linens are clean. 

And nobody pays any mind to the young person with their illegitimate pregnancy here. 

Another cramp ripples through your belly, large, tight, and round beneath your tunic. You groan and clutch at the windowsill as you try to breathe through the pain. Your legs feel weak, and your water is dripping down the insides of your thighs, already bare since you had the forethought to lose your trousers early on.

"Gods," you sigh, and try to walk yourself to the bed.

Your contractions are getting closer together. They're stronger, too, and each one leaves you gasping for breath. It won't be long now.

You've almost reached the foot of your bed when another one hits. It's so sudden and so intense that your knees give out, sending you crumpling to the floor. You land on all fours, barely preventing your belly from being crushed under your weight.

Your head feels light. You pant heavily and try to focus on something other than the pain. You smell the salty breeze and hear the waves crashing in the distance. The floorboards beneath your knees are old and rough. Candlelight flickers wildly over the paneled walls, casting deep, dark shadows in the corners of the room.

When the next contraction comes, you cry out. You can't hold it back. You're too overwhelmed. It feels like your whole body is contracting, like there's an iron fist squeezing around your abdomen.

"Gods, gods," you chant, "please, please..."

You have no idea what you're asking for. You want to be strong enough to bear it, you suppose. You want your labor to end.

You can't get back up. All you can do is brace yourself against the bed and wait for the next contraction. You try to count the minutes between them, but your head is getting foggier and you're having trouble remembering the number you've counted up to.

The next wave is worse than the others. It rips a scream from you, and another gush of fluid spills from between your legs. It makes a puddle beneath you and runs down the backs of your legs.

"Oh," you groan, "oh hells..."

You can feel the baby now. You can feel it moving lower in your body, the pressure in your pelvis building.

"Gods," you whimper. You can't think. All you can do is feel the sensations of the baby making its way down, your body forcing it from the only home it's ever known since the night your lover planted it within you.

"It's coming," you whimper to the empty room, "it's coming now."

Where was your lover? Why did you have to endure this alone?

You reach between your legs and feel the opening where the head has begun to spread you open, stretching you wider than you've ever been stretched before. 

"Ow, ow, ow," you moan, "please...!"

You don't know who you're begging. The gods? Your lover? The baby? 

"Please," you beg, "please, let me have it..."

The head moves further down, aching and burning as your body strains to let it pass. It's almost too much to bear, but you keep breathing through it even after the contraction is over. 

Another gush of fluid runs down your legs. You reach behind you, between your thighs, and feel the baby's hair.

"It's coming," you sob, "it's coming, it's coming, oh, gods..."

You're shaking and sweating. Your belly trembles, still pressed against the floor.

"It's coming," you wail.

There's no way your neighbors don't hear you right now, but your labor isn't their concern. You're on your own.

The baby's head is crowning. The skin around your entrance pulls tight as the baby stretches you further, until you feel as though you're going to split in two. You push, and you can feel the head beginning to emerge.

You're almost there. It's stretching you so wide. You can't believe it's going to fit.

"Come on, come on, come on," you chant, like a desperate spell. It's got to keep going. It just has to. 

The baby's head slides free. It rests in the space between your legs, and the shoulders begin to follow.

"Almost there," you whimper, spreading your knees wider in an attempt to open your pelvis, "almost there..."

You grit your teeth and bear down as hard as you can.

The shoulders pop free. The rest of the baby slides out with a wet squelch, and you reach back just in time to catch it as it tumbles free of your body.

"Oh, gods," you breathe, tears welling in your eyes.

It's a boy. He's bloody and slimy, but he's alive, and he's crying. 

You did it.

"It's okay," you soothe him, "you're okay."

You hold him close, cradling him against your chest as you finally turn and slump against the floor. His heartbeat is fast and strong.

"It's okay," you promise him, "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

The baby's cries subside. His tiny fingers curl into fists.

"You're perfect," you tell him, "you're so beautiful."

Your son.

Your little boy.

He looks just like his missing father, and you can't help but weep.

Tip Jar ✨ My Pregnancy Writing ✨ Commissions

#hush answers #hush writes preg #ftm pregnancy #nb pregnancy #ftm birth #nb birth #male pregnancy #mpreg #male birth #trans pregnancy #tmpreg #pregnancy kink #birth kink #labor kink #giving birth #unassisted birth

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Detour 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Thor

Summary: You find yourself stranded in a small village.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You refuse to spend your vacation pent up, especially in this place. You put on your most walkable shoes, felt boots with a low heel, and clothes suitable for walking. Cigarette pants and a sleeveless turtleneck. You grab your purse and call down to the front desk to request a taxi.

As you come down to the lobby, you see the preparations for the ridiculous event in full tilt. Ugh. This place is backwards. How can a grown man plan a part akin to that of one half his age. If you were to guess, that cretin is like pushing forty, and that’s being generous.

You roll your eyes and strut down the steps. You tap your heel at the bottom as you wait, hip pushed out with one leg at an angle. Finally, a minivan rolls up and the driver reaches over to the crank down the window.

“You call for a cab?” The man asks.

“Yes, sir,” you hesitate, thinking he might have the decency to open the door for you. When he remains as he is, you do it yourself, sliding open the back and climbing inside. 

“Where are we going, miss?” He prompts as you roll the door shut.

“Hm, I saw in the hotel itinerary there is a bakery in town. They have coffee?”

“Sure do, all those fancy foams and flavours,” he chirps as he shifts into gear, “didn’t know anyone was visiting town.”

“A brief detour,” you assure him and turn your gaze out the window.

“Ah, well, you can call me Paulie. I’m the only taxi in the village.”

You don’t offer your name in return. You aren’t paying for conversation. He’s a driver, not a therapist. You sit in the buzz of the radio, the outdated tunes static as the signal wanes and waxes.

“Just up here,” he announces as he comes to flat ground, steering between the only dense line of buildings, “one with the red sign.”

“Sir,” you pull out a bill and adequate tip for his trouble.

“You have a good one, ma’am. If ya need a ride back, you just call,” he calls after you.

You step out and shove the door closed, quickly marching onto the pavement. You peer up at the bakery, eyeing the facade. It isn’t as nice as your preferred cafe but there are no alternatives. How can people live like this? Is variety not the spice of life?

You’re aware of the looks you get from the village elders on the street. You ignore their sideways glances and enter the bakery. You approach the counter as you browse the menu, chin set. You are dying for a latte.

“Hello, I’d like an oat latte, half pump of vanilla, a quarter teaspoon of cinnamon, and a touch of honey,” you outline your typical order.

“Uh, okay, that was a latte–”

“Oat latte,” you correct, “latte with oat milk…” the girl behind the counter squints and keys in the order, “with cinnamon–”

“Half a teaspoon, don’t cake it on,” you demand.

“Um, alright,” she stops and rips off a piece of blank receipt paper, making a note on it.

“With honey,” you enunciate clearly.

“Honey,” she mumbles as she writes, “anything else, ma’am?”

You sniff and lean back on your heel, looking up and down the display case, “are any of these vegan?”

“Sorry, I don’t think so.”

“Gluten free?” 

“No, I don’t–”

“I might do with the raspberry white chocolate scone,” you step back up to the counter.

“Sure,” she taps the buttons and reads out your total. You pay with your card and cross your arms as you strut to wait at the other end of the counter.

You look around dully. There’s a man sitting by the window. He has frosting on his fingertips as he picks at a cinnamon bun. He gives a goofy grin and wipes his hand on a napkin, several others sticking to him as he tries to tidy himself up. You shake your head and return your attention to the counter.

Your scone is served first on a small plate. It takes some time for the latte. You taste it and suck your teeth. You look at the employee as she watches you nervously. Even if you tell her she added too much cinnamon, you doubt she’ll get it right on a second try. Like everything around here, you’ll settle for it.

You take your order and sit in the corner. You slide out your phone. No bars. This wretched place threatens to bore you to tears. 

A chair scrapes and a throat clears. You narrow your eyes in the messy man’s direction as he approaches you. He’s tall with sandy brownish blond hair and a trim of overgrown stubble along his jaw and cheeks. He wears plaid under a tan vest with too many pockets. Backwoods chic, how gauche.

“Uh, hey, you new in town?”

“Passing through,” you utter tersely.

“Really? You staying up at the B&B? Odinsons are good people.” He nervously plays with the zipper on his vest, “I’m Cole–”

“I don’t want to know your name. The moment I’m free of this place, I hope to forget everything about it,” you spit.

He blanches, “uh, sorry, miss–”

“You will be if you keep bothering me.”

“I was just being friendly,” he begins.

“Let me tell you something, I run circles around friendly men like you. In fact, men like you, beg me to step on them,” you sneer hotly. “And trust me, you can’t handle me, so go on and finish your snack, little boy.”

He stutters and looks around. He nods and backs off, a dumb look on his face. He turns and walks stiffly back to his table. He stares ahead and slowly drops his head into his hands. You scoff.

Does every man in this forsaken place store their brains below their belt? You pick at the scone as your eyes drift over to the barista. She watches the man with a worried look then glances at you and winces, quickly hiding behind the display case.

You turn and peer out the window. This must be purgatory. It is possible you crashed your car and now must wait out your eternity in this hellscape.

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #character cameo #au #backwoods au #drabble #series #the detour #avengers #marvel #mcu

[cycat-carisi]

Lonesome Superhero

Pairing: Gator Tillman x f!reader (not romantic)

Summary: Gator keeps hitting on you and you finally give him a piece of your mind. He's not the sweet boy you once knew anymore - or if he is, it's far too difficult to see.

Tags: No spoilers! Angst. Post episode 1 and 2.

Warnings: language, misogynistic themes from the show

Length: ~1.3k

A/N: This just popped into my head and I needed to get it out. Gator is despicable and unless he has some major character growth, I can't bring myself to romanticize him. I do think his character is super intriguing though. I hope we get to dive deeper into what makes him tick throughout the season. (:

(Plus, I have a theory that Gator may have unintentionally been a witness to his mother's murder as a boy...)

Fic below the cut or on AO3 here

It's in the way the frosted glass door harshly swings open that immediately lets you know who is behind it. There could only be one person who felt entitled enough to barge into a retirement home like he owned the place.

You swallow thickly. Not again.

Turning around from your medicine cart, you find him standing there in his camouflage cargo pants and a black t-shirt that is two sizes too tight. His hands perch on his hips as his narrowed eyes and cocky smirk aim in your direction.

"Gator, please. Not today," you speak coldly.

His smirk only grows. "Oh, c'mon, babycakes, you don’t know what you're missin'!"

"Gator!" you scold, trying to hush your voice in front of your patients. "Come with me, please." Anger bubbles up inside of you as Gator's face contorts into a triumphant grin. He saunters forward as you lead him toward the back entrance of the small facility.

In the shadow of the building, the fall air nips at your bare arms. The chill, however, is easily quelled by your boiling blood.

"How dare you come to my place of work!" You waste no time laying into the Tillman son.

Your ferocity catches Gator off-guard, causing panic to dart across his features. He takes a half-step back, pulling his head and neck along with it.

Oh, but you’re far from done with him.

"For weeks now, you've been popping up wherever I go, asking me to go out with you in the most degrading ways possible! Every. Single. Time. I have turned you down, yet you clearly cannot take ‘no’ for an answer! And now you have the audacity to show up at where I work and do the same? No! It doesn’t work like that, Gator. I worked hard for my career. I went to college, got my license, and came back here to help my community. I am respected in this building, and I will not tolerate you waltzing in here like God's gift to women and disrespecting me in front of my patients!"

Out of breath and seething, you continue to stare Gator down. He looks downright gobsmacked – a mixture of a wounded pup about to run and a cornered hound ready to bite.

The silence is deafening. You wait for Gator to snap back like he always does – some moronic comeback that's as pathetic as his barbed wire LOL tattoo.

And predictably, he does just that. "What the hell?!!" he cries out, stepping towards you and invading your space. The pungent odor from his last puff of vape wafts off his breath. "I'm the law in this town! I'm a winner! All you ever do is humiliate me! You're fucking awful!"

"I'm awful?!" you scoff, eyebrows shooting skyward. You're about to rip him a new one when you simply stop and shake your head in pity. "What happened to you, Gator?"

Once again, the Tillman son is rendered speechless. His dark brow pinches together in confusion. "Wha-?"

You seize your opportunity to dive a little deeper. "I mean, what happened to the Gator from middle school? The one who used to be my friend? The boy who was sweet and kind and would spend lunch hours reading comic books with me. It's like you suddenly woke up one day and decided to become an asshole, always acting out in class and purposely bullying other kids. Doing reckless shit because your dad could get you out of trouble. And now? I think you've gotten worse! Hell, Mrs. Lakeland told me that you all but pushed Gladys Baker out of the way at the corner store the other day. What the heck is wrong with you? Who do you think you are?"

"I - I -" he stammers, head spinning. Then Gator swallows, puffing up his chest. "I take what's mine! I take what I'm owed. I made it through police training. People in this town owe me their respect, so I take it as I see fit."

"Newsflash! That's not how you get respect, sunshine," you retort. "Respect is earned, and from where I'm standing, all I see is a pathetic man-child whose daddy got him where he is today. 'My father is the sheriff' are the magic words that force people to step out of your way. That's not respect; that's notoriety from being a grade-A asshole!"

Gator's face twists into a snarl while his fists clench and unclench at his sides. You've clearly hit a nerve.

Even though you’d love nothing more than to lay into him some more, you remind yourself that it’s notworth the fight. Instead, your chest constricts with disappointment. "I don’t get it, Gator,” you speak softly. “Why do you let your father run your life? He says to jump and you ask how high. When are you gonna wake up and realize that he's just using you?"

If it wasn’t clear that you’d struck a nerve before, it certainly is now. Gator’s combat boot strikes the gravel, sending up a cloud of dust and dirt, and his cheeks glaze over with a deep red flush. "I don’t – He doesn’t –" Lost for words, Gator simply clamps his jaw shut. He kicks at the ground again and throws his hands to his hair, letting out a frustrated yell.

You hop back in surprise; a fearful gasp escapes you at his sudden outburst.

Gator's head whips back up, and those dark eyes meet yours.

Middle school was a long time ago, yet Gator remembers everything. He remembers how nice you were to him; how one day you saw this quiet boy sitting alone at lunch with a comic book and decided to come over and ask what he was reading. He used to dream of being as invincible as the superheroes in his books – Gator's way of shielding himself from everything that he'd seen. But then you came along and somehow made him feel a little less alone. He adored you and your friendship, eventually developing a little crush. That was, of course, before Gator was taught that girls weren't supposed to like comics, that men lead while women follow, and that his father's word was absolute. If he pleased his father, any situation could go Gator's way. The power sought after by characters in his comic books was right at Gator's fingertips; all he had to do was prove to the senior Tillman that he was worthy. Nothing else mattered.

And now? Gator almost had it. He was so close to having his father's approval. He was certain of it! Why couldn't you see that? Why couldn't you see how awesome he had become? He had buried his crush on you away while you were at college, but now that you were back, there was no reason to hide that he wanted you. And there should be no reason why you wouldn't want him either!

Except…your words today hurt. They made Gator feel puny and pathetic. How could you say that he was just his father's pawn?! He was his own man! A tough and strong and important man in this town...right?

You watch as despair briefly flashes across Gator's face before quickly being replaced by aggravation. He grunts again prior to spinning on his heels and stalking off.

No! Gator is his own man, and you were just the type of woman his father had warned him about! His crush is stupid, and so are you...

As Gator storms off, his ears catch your quiet words laced with pity. "Silly me for thinking that the sweet guy who read comics with me would still be in there.”

For the first time since he was a boy, tears stab at Gator's eyes. He scrunches his eyes closed and shakes his head, instead focusing on the sound of gravel crunching under his boots as he slinks away.

Thanks for reading! Feedback is loved ❤

| Series masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

#gator tillman #fargo #fargo season 5 #gator tillman x reader #my fanfic #fargo fx #joe keery #lonesome superhero series

[writingsofwesteros]

heaven I beg you to write another part of yandere tywin x innocent reader, it is without a doubt one of my favorites 🦁💖💖 with smut 😖🔥

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

“Tywin..” You softly whimpered. Your whimpers of pleasure echoing around the beautiful, royal chambers. He only hummed against your soaked pussy some more; his tongue moving slowly over your clit. Your hands tightened their grip on the silk, blood red sheets around you both, your body already arching against him.

He only moaned against you once more; sending vibrations onto your soaked pussy. His tongue eagerly moves over to lap at your wetness. Not before harshly sucking on your clit that had your eyes rolling back. His rough hands moved up and down your inner thighs as his tongue finally slipped inside you.

Your legs moved over his shoulders; nearly squeezing his head as you began to lose control. Your stomach is tightening already. Tywin’s chuckles sounded out around the room as he kept you still. Goosebumps easily moved over your soft skin as you rocked against his mouth; your climax easily building.

You had thought your lord husband would grow bored of you by now but it seemed time only made him more obsessed and you more desirable to him. It had your heart racing just thinking about it. The sound of your wetness echoed around the room as did the sound of Tywin’s feasting of you. 

“Oh gods…” You couldn’t hold back anymore as the pleasure was driving you wild. Your inner legs were completely soaked and his hold on your hip was now useless. You were rocking against his face with passion that he matched. His harsh sucking of your clit resumened whilst his fingers came to play.

He spread apart your lips and had your clit so defenceless. Tywin sucked and kitten licked you before slipping two fingers inside you. He curled against your spongy spot as his smirk only widened. His thumb teased your clit before he cheekily added a third finger to deliciously stretch you.

His tongue moved over you as your legs were already shaking. Your stomach is tightening already. “Cum now.” Tywin ordered. His fingers moved quickly now before he moved to sucking your clit. His tone and touch was enough to push you over the edge as your climax ripped through you.

Tywin hummed and quickened his fingers to prolong your climax.

~

“You have to behave, sweet girl.” You whispered into your daughter’s ear. Not as if the one year old could understand you but you had to try. She only blinked up at you with those large eyes and bright locks. You could only shake your head and move to place her onto your hip. “I do imagine she will not listen to you.”

You giggled as Tyrion came to walk beside you. “I think you may be right.” You hummed. “I usually am.” You shook your head at his words as your daughter thankfully rested her head on your shoulder; seemingly uninterested even as the doors opened to the feast already being enjoyed.

“I did not think the old lion still had it in him.” You heard the whispers of Lords even as you didn’t understand their words. Nor did you want to. You were too interested in finding the twins who were never far from trouble. “I hope Jamie has not brought more swords for them to play with.” You hummed.

“You worry too much.” Tyrion whispered; lifting a goblet of wine from a passing table to nearly down in one sip. You only raised an eyebrow at him. “And you worry too little.” A raised cup was your only answer as you rolled your eyes. Amusement dancing in them as you turned the corner. 

“There you are.” You hummed as your little girl clapped too; much to your son’s delight as they raced over. “Mama..” They both called out and moved to hug your legs as you continued to move through the crowd with them. “Where is your father?” You hummed to them; your little girl lifting her head at the mention of him.

“Over there.” Your oldest twin who was more outgoing pointed across the room before running off once more. “Hmm, what shall we do with him?” You looked down to your son who only chuckled before burrowing into your dress. Your free hand gently took his own as you guided him through the Lords and Ladies; smiling politely and nodding.

A chubby hand moved into your locks and pulled. “Oh, are you starting already?” You teased your little girl who could only giggle. She hid into your neck as you gently tickled her sides. “Y/N..” You heard Joffrey’s little voice coming over to you as you finally looked up. Tywin’s eyes as ever on you.

A Lord was whispering in his ear but you knew your husband was hardly listening; not when you were closing in on him. “My love.” You hummed; his hand reaching for your own when you came close enough. You smiled politely at the Lord whilst your daughter was already making grabby hands to her father.

He leaned close and took her from you as his soft lips found your own. “Are you well?” He whispered; always worried even as his face stayed the same. His free hand moved onto your hip and kept you close. “I am.” You  hummed before kneeling down to the twins. “Are you hungry?”

They shook their heads; too interested in their nephew now who began to show them intricate lion sculptures. Tywin’s hand moved to your shoulder now; moving to play with a lock of your hair. Your hand moved onto his chest as you moved impossibly close into his side. You reached to place a lock of your daughter’s hair out of her face.

A kiss was pressed on the top of your head by your husband as you hummed; a soft blush coming over your cheeks. The idea of leaving this warm place did not enter your mind again as the children distracted you some more. His hand moved onto your stomach and softly stroked you. 

“You should not strain yourself.” He whispered into your ear; pressing a soft kiss to your neck. You only hummed with a roll of your eyes. He was always so protective. “You worry too much.” The familiar words fell from your lips as you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.

#tywin lannister x reader #tywin lannister x y/n #request #game of thrones imagine

[dilxcc]

chapter four

summary. in which two friends who desperately clings to each other until the other slips away . . .

contains. fem!reader, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, slowburn, cussing, grammatical errors . . .

note. i didn't proofread this so there might be some error + misspelled. (not like i ever proofread) i cant write fighting scenes but still, i hope you guys enjoy it anyway <3

previous chapter

"hey, don't you think that gojo-sensei and miss y/n are getting... closer?" itadori tilted his head slightly. fushiguro only kept quiet and continued eating his ice cream. "now that you mention it, i can see it too," kugisaki agreed, getting closer to itadori as they whispered their theories. "they made up," fushiguro suddenly interrupted their theories of the two teachers might be dating.

their facial expression turned into a shock one.

"satoru, you need to stop following me whenever i have classes with the kids," you sighed, rubbing your temple in frustration. "why would i do that? it's not like i'm bothering you or anything," he said with a mischievous smile. "you may not be bothering me but the kids always looks distracted when you're around," you grunted. "look at them!" you raised your voice slightly. gojo did as you said and look at the students that were staring at the two of them with wide curious eyes.

gojo smiled and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. "they're probably curious about us," he snickered. "well, there's nothing going on with us. so would you leave me to my class respectfully?" this made the white-haired male to pout slightly but still obligate to your request. you let out yet another sigh before turning your attentions to the students once again. "let's keep going,"

.

fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

"why the hell is there a flipping special grade here?" you muttered under your breath. "i should run... but the students-" your hands buried in your hair, feeling frustrated at the limited thing you can do right now. "right. i should find them and bring them out. that should do it,"

braving yourself, you immediately get out of your hiding spot and ran down the hallway. in an instant, you find itadori and kugisaki. your arms open wide and you grabbed them, not stopping your running legs. "wha- miss y/n?! you're okay!" the boy beamed. "of course, i am," you smiled reassuring at him. "where's fushiguro? we should get out of here and call for backup,"

"we were separated at the first floor," kugisaki spoke up. you nodded in acknowledgement. once your were outside the building, you put the teenagers down. "i want you two to wait outside. call for gojo-sensei. or ijichi. tell him we need backup. i'll be back after i retrieve fushiguro," you said before running back into the building, not turning once to glance at them or stop when you heard them calling for you desperately.

you had to save fushiguro. no matter what. you were supposed to be a responsible adult. they are just... kids. the troubled look on your face only grow as you remember what you had to go through. they don't deserve that...

.

"suguru!" you let out a scream, watching the curse slamming his body to the wall with ease. as if he was only a bug. "y/n... run... run!" he yelled at you. run? how can you possibly do that? your best friend might get killed if you run. yes, you might not be strong as suguru and satoru. but you weren't about to be a coward and run with your tails between your leg. even as tears blurred your vision, you stood your ground. you looked around to find something ― anything to use to distract the curse.

your eyes stopped at the rock. you quickly pick it up and throw it at the curse, ripping it's attention from suguru. "no!" suguru grunt in pain, his eyes desperately begging for you to run. "over here, asshole!" you waved both of your arms above your head before turning away to run. even without turning around, you already knew that the curse were hot on tails. it was toying with you. you were sure of it. you know that these types of curse tend to move faster. but it was toying with you; playing a slow torture game until you were finally on your wit ends.

you could tell that the curse were getting impatient. with how it growled and grunt, making the walls around your crumble in hopes of crumbling your bravery too. your legs were burning, your head is pounding and your are blurry from the tears that kept on shedding. the curse appeared in front of you and slammed you hard onto the wall. the last thing you remembered before passing out was a comforting arm wrapped around your shoulder and a whisper of comforting words. "you did great,"

.

you immediately spotted fushiguro. he was barely standing, bleeding from head to toe. it made you wonder how he was still conscious. your flitted from him to the curse. it was smiling widely, clearly enjoying watching the boy struggle to keep his eyes open. your legs started moving faster, ignoring the burning sensation that were slowly getting worse.

"miss l/n!" he looked at you with wide eyes as you put yourself between him and the curse. "i need you to leave. do not come back inside. that's an order!" you said sternly, not sparing a glance at the boy. you knew that the teenagers you were teaching are stronger than you. hell, probably as strong as satoru. but they didn't need to shoulder these burden at such a young age. you wish to protect them as best as you could. when he finally left, you let out a sigh of relief and smirked at the curse. "you're probably disappointed that you got a weaker opponent,"

the curse screech at you and use it's cursed technique.

.

you were actually surprised with yourself. perhaps you weren't as weak as you thought. you watched as the curse slowly fall to it's demise. though you had defeated the curse, it doesn't mean that you weren't injured one bit. hell, everything hurts. every part of your body felt like it would come apart if you move even an inch. but you had to get out of here.

you pulled out a cigarette from your pocket and light it up. "the backups are always late..." you muttered to yourself as you limp out of the building. blood were covering your body. if others were to see this, they probably would have thought that someone had caused a massacre or something.

as if on que, you finished your cigarette the moment you stepped outside. there was a proud smile on satoru's face. wait ― satoru?

the world around you spin and your legs finally gave out under you. before you could hit the ground, the white haired male caught you in his arms. the students' cries and words of gratefulness of your survival were blocked out. your eyes were focused on satoru. all your attention and senses were focused to him. "you did great,"

taglist: @instantmusico @wooasecret @charisthemaniac @tw0fvced @1lellykins

masterlist

#say you love me : chapter four #say you love me #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #satoru #satoru gojo #fluff #angst #light angst #jjk #jjk angst #jjk fanfic #itadori yuuji #kugisaki nobara #fushiguro megumi

[loupy-mongoose]

Happy birthday ^^ I'm in my 30's so, glad to see some older peeps on tumblr.

(even if 29 aint old XD )

Don't worry, I know. I don't truly believe myself to be old, just relatively old. I could be wrong, but I feel like a majority of the people I interact with on Tumblr and Discord are younger than me. Sometimes not by much, and sometimes by a lot. One of my favorite artists is about a decade younger than me! (Which is admittedly wild to think about. XD)

I want to take a moment to be sappy, and hopefully not conceited. I don't want to sound or act like I have a big head; I just want to offer some advice as an older artist.

When I was a teenager, I dreamed of having what I've since gained through this blog. I wanted to tell a story, and have people interact with it and ask questions, primarily in the form of Nuzlocke comics. I only ever tried on DeviantArt and, in more recent years, Twitter (may it RIP), and never really gained any traction. I wonder if things would've been different if I'd tried Tumblr back then, but I kinda doubt it. I was a teenager. I was still a developing artist and storyteller with an underdeveloped sense of self-confidence. Now, that's not to say I don't think teenagers can do great things and tell great stories... But if you're trying and it's not working out, YOU. HAVE. TIME.

At some point I came across what I believe was an advice post from Tumblr, but I can't find it anywhere and don't truly know where it's from. It had some wonderful advice that I wish I could share verbatim!

The biggest thing I gleaned from it is, don't down-talk your own art! If you have trouble liking the art you make, look for the good in it! Find the parts you can be confident in, build on that, and love what you do!

Here, I'll get you started.

You are an artist, which is a wonderful thing! You have the ability to bring your ideas to life, and that will only get better with time! I'm way, WAY better of an artist now than when I was 16, 17, 18 when I first tried telling stories online. Your biggest hindrance will be yourself, so please don't let yourself get in the way. Perfection in art is impossible. Aim for loving what you do, and be patient with yourself.

Anyways, that's my random sappy spiel. Enjoy your art, lovely artists young, old, and in-between!

#hideoutfromreality #ask #but unconventional #A part of me wonders if I just happen to have a story premise people like. #But I'll never be able to know for sure. #Would the result have been different if I'd thought up this story with my teenage art skill? #I don't know. #I CAN'T know. #I'll just have to move forward with what I've got now. #info

[whumpy-vibes]

D-Day (2015) Whump List

Where to watch: Viki Rakuten

Genre: Drama, Medical, Romance

Whumpee: Lee Hae Sung

Note: This is my very first whump list! I discovered the whump community about a year ago and I decided to finally make a list. I love this kdrama and have rewatched it multiple times but have never heard anyone talk about it on here. Which is pretty sad, since it is so whump-heavy. Plus the romance isn't very prominent and the drama mainly focuses on the disaster aspect. This list may not be perfect and I may have over-described some things so if you guys have any advice on how I can make my lists better, feel free to let me know! And I would just like to thank @simply-whump and @love-me-a-lotta-whump as you two inspired me to make this list in the first place.

Episode 1: exhausted from performing surgery for a long time, building partially collapsed on him, covered in ash, caught in explosion.

Episode 2: exhausted, falls asleep on bench of firetruck, argument with brother, emotional, flashback to aftermath of car accident (severely injured, loved ones worried for him, mourning father’s death), breathing and sweating heavily from preforming CPR X2, blood splatters in face, exhausted, falls asleep against patients bed X3 (I swear this man can fall asleep anywhere), getting hit (jokingly), in earthquake.

Episode 3: knocked out, in shock, covered in ash, right next to an explosion X2, worried for loved one, hit in the arm with metal pole, gets stitches without anesthesia and pretends it doesn’t hurt, sucks out baby juice out of baby to save it, carries mother on back, watches people go into collapsing building without being able to save them.

Episode 4: Covered in more ash, in shock, tries to save people but fails, in denial, mentally unstable, PTSD symptoms, flashback to building colapse and hand reaching out, mental breakdown/emotional outburst, crying, begs on knees for hospital to take patients in, flashback to the car accident that killed his father and put his mother in a coma.

Episode 5 drinks canned coffee instead of eating food, stressed, hands shaking, sweating, hands shaking

Episode 6 motorcycle jumps over broken bridge and crashes, metal punctures chest, doesn’t take care of injury, uses tissues and tap to fix ingury, hears voices of dead patients, flashback to people dying again, hit on the head with wood, in physical fight, crying, faints, carried into hospital on stretcher, others worried for him, receives medical care

Episode 7 people worried for him, carried into hospital/emergency room on stretcher, unconscious, stitches, hit by a door opening, trips and falls, flashback to after car crash, crying, flash back to people dying, sleep deprived, exhausted, cold symptoms, insomnia, flashbacks about earthquake,

Episode 8 insomnia, hurts arm in middle of surgery during mini earthquake/aftershock, exhausted

Episode 9 exhausted from performing CPR a long time, falls asleep against patient bed, falls in mud

Episode 10 PTSD symptoms, hands shaking, breathing heavily, voice shaking/stuttering

Episode 11: PTSD symptoms, flashback, heavy breathing, hands shaking, stumbling/can’t walk straight, trouble breathing, people concerned for him, hallucinating, blood splatters in face, crying, getting hit and blamed for patient death

Episode 12: blaming himself for patient dying, crying, depressed, crying

Episode 13: Punched, lip bleeding, falls asleep in chair, hands shaking, breathing heavily, PTSD symptoms, punches wall, bloody knuckles, others worried for him

Episode 14: Blood splatters over face, exhausted

Episode 15: concerned for mother

Episode 16: running fever, hooked up to iv

Episode 17: none

Episode 18: preforms entire surgery with fever, faints and falls, high fever, faints again, in hospital bed, given sedative to sleep, rips iv out, finds out about brothers death, in denial, crying, mourning

Episode 19: crying

Episode 20: gets pushed and falls, watches brother’s last moments, crying

#asian whump #asian whump list #whump list #kdrama whump #kdrama whump list #whump

[oscconfessions]

Tbh I really want to do a rewrite of Object Terror. I used to be a fan of it through like 2019-2021. I'm not a fan anymore because I realized just how bad the writing is. I feel like it could have potential if it wasn't so edgy and it actually fleshed out the characters.

Like wdym this new co-host, S'mores, is a demon? Wdym he's collecting souls for mf Satan himself to “prove his worth?” Why is he targeting these random ass contestants of an object show? Why not just go out and collect random stranger's souls off the streets? WHY ARE THERE DEMONS IN YOUR OBJECT SHOW?? And furthermore why is the elimination area hell itself? Why? How? Does this mean when the characters are eliminated via falling spikes they ACTUALLY die? That can't be because one of them, El Nudelo Spider, comes back. Unless S'mores somehow brought him back because they became friends in hell? Why? Does Satan know about that? Does S'mores have to get a pardon? Will he get in trouble if Satan finds out he brought a soul onto earth? There's just so much shit happening for no reason. It's unnecessary.

Don't even get me started on the characters. Literally half of them can be removed because they add NOTHING to the show. Plus they have like zero personality. We don't know a single thing about Skittle besides that she's nice and silly. Dude half your cast is nice and silly. Also this may be nitpicky but why is it such a sausage fest on the show? Out of 25 characters 19 of them are dudes. I'm not saying it has to be 50/50 with the gender but it's really noticeable here how unbalanced it is.

There's no reason for the show to have gore, either. The creator actually responded to this complaint with that the whole show takes place in another world and that the sentient objects aren't objects. Just ugly little creatures. Okay cool concept but 1. You don't have to have so much gore it makes the Texas Chainsaw Massacre franchise shudder, and 2. What?? If that's the case why does Beer shatter like a beer bottle should? Why does Magazine rip and tear like a paper? Why is it when Coffee Cup quite literally explodes, it's coffee? If they're ugly creatures shouldn't they just be flesh and stuff? Why does it change between objects dying like objects and them dying in the most gruesome ways?

The writing is absolute garbage too. It started off as a comedy but slowly turned into an edgy bloodbath with some comedy in it. Good lord, the comedy. Half of it is just screaming, and the other half is outdated memes. I mean it had the fucking mlg air horn in the first episode. It also had Beer and Trowel in episode 5 making out for literally seven seconds before it cuts to the Carpet and Stapler finding out and being shocked which like. Was that an attempt at comedy? I didn't find it funny at all I was hella uncomfortable when I first watched it (and now that I had to rewatch it again to see how long that was.) First off, why? That was completely unnecessary and the make out happens with no build up. Second what the fuck are Beer and Trowel? They're written as friends but then have a random make out session for no fucking reason. Shit I'm with Carpet and Stapler I was shocked too.

This was supposed to be a confession on how I'd write Object Terror but it turned into me complaining about it. Uh. Anyways What I'd do is remove some of the characters (ie Honey, Fart, Mint), give the rest personality and interests, get rid of the gore and maybe the demon shit. I'm tired this show makes my brain rot whenever I try to understand it. The demon and hell shit is what's bugging me.

I'm sorry for this long ass rant lmao I bet the people who didn't watch Object Terror probably think I'm insane

.

#confession #/ot

[acefiree]

𝗯𝗮𝘆! 𝗹𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗼 | the farm ⁽ ¹ ⁾ ( summary )

Leonardo ✷ Alaska ( pining friends ) MASTERLIST 2012! – BAYVERSE!

ᕦ(๏益๏)ᕥ: After the Kraang invaded New York city. Alaska and her family of misfits go to April’s childhood home on the farm to lick their wounds after Splinter is thrown into the sewer, leaving everyone to question if he is alive or not. With Leonardo being hurt, no one knew what to do. Alaska and Raphael spent most of their time watching over the turtle in blue, hoping he’d wake soon. (third pov, turtle anatomy, pining like a damn idiot, Raph being the big softy we know he is, spidergirl persona, all characters are 18+, NSFW scenes, and Leo being a fucking simp.) wordcount: 1371

⁽ ² ⁾ , ⁽ ³ ⁾ , ⁽ ⁴ ⁾

  "DEAR TO WHOMEVER IT may concern if you find this journal...

     The Kraang finally did it, the stupid alien got the better of us and defeated us...Leonardo got hurt, and Master Splinter is gone, ripped away from us in the blink of an eye, and Vern was taken in the invasion...

     We fucking lost. 

     So, Raphael and Donnie made the call and we all fled the city, going to an old farmhouse my close friend, April, grew up on. 

      It was miles away from the city, a place we could all be safe in. 

     The first thing we did was take care of poor Leonardo, seeing as he was in no place to take care of himself, the fearless leader unaware of the world around him anymore...

     I made sure to keep a close eye on him, swearing not to leave his side for too long, wanting to make sure he was okay and still breathing as I waited for him to wake up. I was doing a good job of it so far, but I would be doing a much better job if the other three brothers would stop hovering over me.

     At first, I thought they were only hanging around because they wanted to watch over Leo as well, but I soon found out he wasn't their only concern. 

     It was me...

     Raphael was the worst of his brothers, and kept a constant vigil over me and Leo...there were even times the red-clad turtle would have to practically drag me away to my room and force me to sleep...and sometimes, he'd even make me eat.

      Then there was Michelangelo. He would often goof around and try to get me outside to help with the farm chores, even going as far as forcing me to feed the animals – but mostly he just wanted to goof around and cause trouble...

     And while all this was taking place, Donatello decided to build a lab in the barn, trying to create a mutagenic medicine to heal Leo as Casey kept him company...However, in Donnie's case, I think he'd prefer to be alone rather than have the Jones hovering over his shoulder 24/7 asking questions that would even have me annoyed.

      April kept herself busy, cleaning the house and making sure we all stayed fed, and up to date on what was happening in the city. I know deep down that she was just trying to keep her mind off things and kill the need to chase a story.

      I miss New York, our Sensei...and Leonardo...

     Hopefully, he will recover, and I will finally get to get over this guilt I feel, and we can all go home...if there's even a home to go back to.

     But life, as Master Splinter would say, must continue on.

     ALASKA'S MOSS EYES WERE glazed, and her mind was foggy, her hand wrapped around a tattered rag tightly as she stood beside the bed, watching the two terrapins lower Leonardo down into the springy mattress. She blinked once. Twice. And even a third time as she tried to blink away at the new reality she was suddenly living.

     As Raphael and Donatello stepped away to give her room, she took a slow step forward, her eyes set on Leo's relaxed cataleptic face as it stared back at her haughtily. She lifted a steady hand, running the rag over his skin. The once vibrant olive color no longer looked as if it held any life to it, his skin looking an ashen green and littered in dark hues in what she guessed was the equivalent of a bruise for a turtle.

     Her heart tightened as she cleaned his bare face – a face she had always dreamt of seeing without his tattered blue mask.

     The ebony-haired girl hated that the first time she got to see his face again, was when he was unconscious and unaware of his surroundings.

     As she continued to clean the comatose leader, Donnie worked in the back as he set up a makeshift IV line for his older brother. Alaska's eyes flickered to the genius as he lifted Leo's hand and stuck an IV in the largest vein, placing tape over the tube to secure it. His golden gaze caught the curious look on her face, and he was quick to soothe her curiosity.

     "This will keep him hydrated – it's an infusion of fluids through a 'drip'...It should help him heal faster." Donnie explained as he slipped into a ramble, spewing information as he went back to checking the IV bag and line, "I would much rather have him in a tub full of water, but with our size, a human tub won't work. This will have to do for now,"

     Alaska nodded numbly once he was done info dumping (a thing he often did under stress) before turning to look back at Leo from her place on the bed, her shoulders curving forward, and her bottom lip being brought in between her teeth. The taste of dried blood from her previous chewing danced over her taste buds, but it didn't really disgust her by the taste. Blood was something she had become quite acquainted with over the past few days.

     "Will he wake up?" April's soft voice came from the bedroom's threshold as she looked on, Casey standing only a few inches away as he tried to comfort his girlfriend.

     Donnie hummed as he finished up making Leo as comfortable as he could, "His injuries are pretty severe, and from what I can see, he sustained some trauma to the head. He seems to be in a vegetative state, but I can't know without running proper tests..."

     Alaska frowned, growing questions forming in her gaze as it traveled over Leo's body, looking at the large crack in his plastron. She felt terrible he was in this state, and she felt like it was all her fault. She continued to chew her lip as she went back to cleaning the soot from his face, the rag following the long-faded scar on the right side of his face.

      Even on the brink of death, he still looked so pretty...

     After a long pause of silence, the atmosphere in the room nearly suffocating with how solemn it felt, the others left her alone with the leader — well, at least, Alaska thought she was alone.

     She placed the rag down as her fingers curled into a tight fist and her nails dug into her palm. She squeezed so hard, she was sure blood would soon trickle from her skin. 

     Why did it have to be Leo? Why did he have to risk himself for me? Why was this hurting so bad to the point I wanted to break something? Her thoughts screamed as she clamped her eyes shut, trying to block them out. 

     A heavy three-fingered hand on Alaska's shoulder had her tensing and she snapped her head around. Two different shades of green mixed together as she locked eyes with her best friend, Raphael. The quick-tempered brother observed her with a look she had never seen on him before. A look that nearly had her breaking. In that moment neither one of them had to speak, a silent understanding passing through their eyes.

     She wondered how long he was going to stand there, but nevertheless, she appreciated the company.

      Her mouth curved into a soft smile that didn't meet the color of her eyes as she lifted a hand to place over his, her silent way of saying it will be okay before she turned back to Leonardo and leaned closer, and went back to cleaning his face so there was no more dried blood and dirt.

     Raphael tracked her movements with a guarded look on his face, emerald gaze holding a certain softness he didn't even realize was pushing its way through. His somber mood kept him silent, though questions about the events that took place after the invasion played on the tip of his tongue. He knew now wasn't the time to poke or prod the younger woman, seeing as she had already been through so much in the past twenty-four hours.

     They all have.

     So, he kept himself quiet as he allowed her this time to care for Leo.

     And that day, the heaviness in her heart never left, but she was grateful for the shadow of the turtle who never left her side as they took turns caring for the leader.

#bayverse leo #2012! tmnt farm arc #raph will always be a closeted softy and you can't convince me otherwise :) #tmnt au #bayverse tmnt x oc #tmnt bayverse #tmnt leonardo #tmnt crossover #teenage mutant ninja turtles #spidergirl person

[stay-mon-army]

Under The Skin: Prologue

Word Count: 1,165 words

Warnings: death, blood, negative self-thinking

Note: Hello!! So this is the prologue to a multiple chapter book I'm writing about &team and their lore! As you can tell from the title and this chapter (hopefully), I was heavily inspired by their debut MV (Under the Skin) and their lore! I know they have the webtoon, but I wanted to tell my own first impressions of the story after watching the MV. This was a long time coming and will likely still take me some time because of how busy I am, but I hope that you guys enjoy it and stick around for the ride! There will be some member x member romantic relationships, so if that's not your thing, I apologize in advance, and this may not be the story for you! Otherwise, welcome to Under the Skin!

K’s heart beats out of his chest as he runs. He can’t stop. If he stops—

No, he won’t think about that. He just has to keep running. If he could just get there in time, he could fix everything. He could save them.

The world around him was ruined. The buildings were crumbling, the road was cracked and missing whole sections, the earth was scorched and nothing green lived. He knew, somewhere in his head, that some of his pack had caused some of the damage. They weren’t totally clean — blood and destruction was on their hands. But it wasn’t totally their faults; they had to protect humans from the vampires. The vampires were the true monsters.

K had been taught from a young age, since he was truly a “pup” as his alpha liked calling him, that the vampires would be totally out of control if the wolves didn’t keep them in check. That’s why the werewolves were created. They were the only things stopping those creatures from ripping the human world apart piece by bloody piece. They only acted calm and demure; they were ruthless. If anything, this war had proven that.

The coven in his town had been fighting back from the rule of the wolves for months. They kept poking and poking, starting small with missing pets until they escalated to attacking the wolves outright. His alpha said they had to fight back, otherwise the vampires would begin hurting humans. If that were to happen, the humans would find out about the world of the supernatural and they would all be in trouble. They would all be hunted, despite being family, friends, loved ones. The humans wouldn’t care. They would all be killed.

So, the pack had fought back, trying to keep it quiet and quick. They didn’t want any more blood to be spilled than necessary. The vampires had only been emboldened. Now, the town was in ruins, the coven dealt with, but his pack… They were all dead.

He just had to find his alpha. He would know what to do. It would all be okay.

As he rounds the next corner, he spots him. Laying back against a pile of concrete slabs, his alpha is breathing, but the scent of his blood assaults his nose and his knees almost give out.

No, I can’t be too late. Please, don’t let me be too late.

K races towards his teacher, his mentor, the man who taught him everything he knows. He slams to his knees, ignoring the way the pain reverberates through his kneecaps, up his thighs, all the way to his head, jumping to throb against every single injury riddling his body. He doesn’t take longer than a single tear raising to his eye on that; he’s already reaching out his hands, hovering them over the body of the man who had raised him.

“Don’t look at me like that.” The man before him rasps, his bloody lips jerking as though he tries to smile at the boy. His eyes fill with tears as he gazes upon K, the last one. He could tell, from the way the boy looked at him, that he had seen the destruction he had brought upon this pack. That he had ruined the lives of the very ones he swore to protect. “Protecting humans from vampires, that’s what werewolves are supposed to do. I don’t regret what we’ve done — we protected those who couldn’t protect themselves.” He coughs hard, a dribble of blood leaking from his mouth, which he turns to spit out. He still has more to tell K. “I’m sorry. It’s my job as the alpha to take care of you all. There was so much more I was supposed to see as you all grew up. I’m sorry I couldn’t make that happen.” He coughs again, but this time it doesn’t stop.

K finally moves his hands to rest against the man before him, laying them on his arms, holding him as though he wishes to pull him in, cradle him close. He stops coughing, but swallows thickly, no doubt a mouthful of blood spilling down his throat.

“Please, don’t apologize. You did the best you could. You did everything you could.” K’s voice trembles, the tears finally breaking away to trace lines through the grime on his face. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t save you.” He sobs, his head falling so the man wouldn’t see his tears. He hadn’t cried in front of him in years.

“You have grown up so well, K. You have become such a strong man: you cared for the others, you took over control when no one else would, and you have learned to control the urges that often control us. If you could not save everyone today, it isn’t because of your ability. It was because I failed you.”

K’s head snaps up, ignoring the burn in his eyes as he shakes his head, raising his hands to the man's face. “You have never failed me. You could never fail me.”

The man smiles, his teeth lined with red making a gruesome sight, and yet K couldn’t look away.

“I love you, K. If anyone was to survive, I’m glad it was you.” His coughing begins wracking his body, forcing his chest up off the ground to convulse as he spits up his very life-blood.

“You can’t die. I don’t know what to do without you.” His hands pull the man towards his body, cradling his head in his lap, ignoring the splattering of blood that decorates the last clean spot on his jeans. The man's breaths are coming in whistles now, as his lungs no doubt fill with blood, choking him slowly from the inside. There was nothing K could do but watch, listen, witness as his father, his caretaker, his alpha slowly stopped coughing, slowly stopped moving, slowly stopped breathing.

When finally, his breathing stops, the silence is deafening. The wind doesn’t blow, the screams of the dying have stopped, the clashing of battle has ended; the only thing left is K’s sobs, his pleads with anyone in the universe to turn back the clock, to save those he loved.

How could K go on? How could he find a new pack, live amongst the humans, defend against the vampires, act as if he wasn’t a part of the death of his whole family? How could he pretend to be normal?

When finally the sun dips down and the moon begins its assent above the horizon to rule the sky, K lifts himself, collecting the man’s body into his arms.

He will begin by burying his dead. He will give them the respect in death they deserve, and he will burn the bodies of the vampires. And then, he will move on. He will find a way to live. He will not let their lives end in vain. It’s the least he can do.

#&team #imagine #&team imagine #andteam #andteam imagine #&team fic #andteam fic

[ccaptain]

@duelmarks: [ COVER ]: while hiding from persecutors, sender pushes the receiver against a wall and uses their body to hide the receiver’s face from view. 😌 ( i lost the meme prompt rip... )

   it's not the first, nor the last time he'll be chased like this.

   usually, there's a lot more of build-up involved. there's investigations, intel to be obtained, and then a secret remote location that Kaeya can find a way to access, a piece of history left a little too unguarded. his escape is smoother, an illusion cast in place as he makes his way out and away from the planet and lays low, trying not to cause too much trouble. this time, however, it's different.

   it's a mixture of them both being kind of outlaws, actually. oh, and about Kaeya being in a bit of a running predicament to properly shroud his own, past presence on the planet. it's very probably a combination of both, really.

   it goes from him meeting a familiar face and preparing to enjoy a nice, chill afternoon in a tavern on Aeons-know-where, and it ends with them pressing against the wall of an alley, hiding from an herd that would like very little else than to scalp them both.

   and by pressing, he thinks that they may fuse with the wall if they keep this up. he's squished, a long strand of his own hair in his mouth in the frenzy of escaping and his chest heaving with a pant- but he's unharmed, and most importantly, it seems that Boothill is doing his absolute best to protect him.

   which is... well, it's nice. Kaeya wouldn't have faulted him for ditching his company for a quick escape- nor he would have held it against him. banes of being an outlaw means that he should be ready to make a quick run when needed without unnecessary baggage... people included. 

   ( Kaeya doesn't know if to extend his thanks or ask him why. )

   all that he does is look up at the face of his helper, and for the first time they're in such close proximity to notice the aiming mark in his pupils- just how intricate an iris can be, and the body pressed against Kaeya's one. his fingers seem to have unconsciously found over Boothill's jacket, digits digging into the leather as if he was suddendly caught in a bout of nervousness and his hand needed purchase.

   he's never been this close to someone before. the lack of warmth in the metal means nothing- he thinks it's silly for his face to heat up at this moment: it's clearly a necessary step to avoid bloodshed or capture... or both. being arrested would be inconvenient, wouldn't it?

   the fluster, however, is quickly taken away when the crowd chasing the duo passes right over the alley- and completely forget to even glance in the direction of the tall cybord hiding the guy with the very cobalt, very noticeable hairstyle.

   there's a minute of stunned silence, before Kaeya blinks twice and blows hair out of his mouth, speaking in a whisper that carries the ghost of a laugh.

   ' i can't believe that worked! ' he's tempted to snicker, with their faces still close as he's biting back a smile. ' they just didn't noticed us at all! it's like straight out of a cartoon where a person flattens like a sheet of paper and slips between the very small space of two buildings, and... '

   he trails off, blinking back up at his companion, meeting his eyes for a small moment before averting pale diamond away.

   ' sorry about that. that was definitely on me- i.. can offer you a drink somewhere else where this won't happen again?... maybe? '

#duelmarks #the mood of this ask was like the up and down charts #NO BUT BOO.THILL DOING THAT TO HIM.......... my good brother in christ youre going to explode him #them: both outlaws kind of / kae.ya: sorry uuhhh they were probably looking for me- #smh...... #riddle me this; is everything that you remember real and nothing but the pure truth? ━ (H:SR V.)

[demonfox38]

Completed: Ys I: Ancient Ys Vanished

Place your bets on how many times I mention the words "Zelda" and "salmon" in this evaluation.

One term may be self-explanatory. The other…you'll find out.

I think I've been exposed to a fair amount of video games. If I've beaten hundreds of games, it's only because I've played thousands. What's limited my ability to fully experience as many video games as possible? Well, time and money are obvious restrictions. I'd put my nationality as a strong third contender. Which, yes, you're allowed to call bullshit on that, what with my nationality being American and all. I didn't have to go through half of the shit that someone from Brazil, Poland, or Russia had to just to play a damn video game. But, my tastes are Japanese, tainted Nintendo-red from the recovery of the home console market in the 1980s. Even with as much cultural and fiscal exchange that goes on between Japan and the United States, there are still going to be keystones and touchpoints that I am going to miss. Influences, spectral as they are, that I want to discover.

The "Ys" series is one such case.

I don't have sales figures for "Ys I: Ancient Ys Vanished." I can't definitively say that this series has influenced dozens of video games that I have enjoyed. What I can do is point at certain scenes within the game and go, "Shit, Nintendo ripped this part off in "The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past."" The amounts of ports this title has received over the years may also be a good indicator that "Ys I" was a darling of the 1980s Japanese home computer market. The PC-88 seemed like a good home for the title, but it damn well didn't stay there. Hopping to the MSX2, MS-DOS, X68000, TurboGrafix-16, Sega Master System, Nintendo Famicom, PlayStation Portable, and the gosh darn Steam market is testament to just how far this game has gone over the years. Hell, that's not even half of the consoles and computers this game has turned up on. It's a Blanche Devereaux of video games—old, present in more places you think, and enjoyed by a surprising amount of people.

"Ys I" (and the series at large) stars Adol Christin, a man driven by a salmon-like instinct to dive face-first into danger the first chance he gets. Such reckless behavior leaves him shipwrecked on an island after managing to plow through a wall of storms that has killed everyone else that has dared to cross it. (You are free to check off "Link's Awakening" from your "Potential Zelda Games Ys Influenced" bingo card.) After recovering from his little escapade, Adol plunges head-first again into the troubles of the island, seeking the goddesses that seemingly have left the island abandoned, as well as six tomes containing the great knowledge and destruction of the mighty civilization Ys that fell long ago. Who else seeks these tomes? Where are all of these demons coming from? Why does this island have so many blue-haired chicks, and why does Steam want to give me three achievements for harassing one of them?

Look, I don't think the original game was designed by delinquent perverts. Whoever made the achievement list might have been, though.

As you may suspect, a lot of how I understand "Ys I"'s design is through my understanding of "The Legend of Zelda" and its subsequent games. Is that a fair comparison to make? Well, they are roughly the same age, one being published in 1986 and the other in 1987. Different systems, sure. Same environment. It's not like "The Legend of Zelda" is the be-all, end-all of top-down fantasy action games. But, more games of this build are likely to emulate "Zelda" than "Ys," even when I talk about "Ys" being an influential younger sibling plot-wise to the former's later titles. If we want to be a bit more diverse, we can throw "Hydlide" into the mix. But, there's always a danger with having an American talk about "Hydlide." Especially, if they don't put that game's age into context!

Look, it's way fairer to compare games from 1986 and 1987 than games from 1984 and 1987. Three years of difference then is like decades of difference now. People and technology evolved that fast. The Japanese economy and Moore's law were amazing like that.

Because I am familiar with the "Zelda" game style, "Ys I" was initially difficult for me. (Okay, it was extremely difficult at two specific points later in the game, but let's just start with the initial play style.) See, one important design detail about "The Legend of Zelda" is that its main hero is left-handed. This helps a player center their shots, often putting them square with their foes. Adol, as you may have guessed, is not Link. Adol is a "Dungeons and Dragons" rogue in a weapon and armor set that should be way too heavy for him. His modus operandi is to crash into an enemy's back or sides, slamming in that flanking bonus for all its worth. He is not a salmon jumping into a bear's mouth (although, I suppose he is that narratively.) He is a salmon plinking off the side of a bear until it inexplicably explodes.

This style of fighting can feel messy to a "Zelda" veteran. It's not something that can't be overcome, but it does require some study. However, it does feel more natural than the "hold A to go offensive / release A to defend yourself" situation that "Hydlide" had going on. At least, a person is way more likely to figure out "Ys I" naturally than they would "Hydlide." I guess playing "Ys I" after "The Legend of Zelda" is a bit like learning how to drive a car with a manual stick, then being given an automatic car. Like, sure, the automatic is simpler. But, if you're used to taking control, you'll feel uncomfortable having that control removed from you. At least, a bit on ice.

I don't know how "Hydlide" fits into that analogy. Maybe it's like going from a manual car to a car that operates on "Red Light Green Light" rules, but you don't figure that out before crashing it into an electrical pole.

Don't expect much in terms of combat evolution with "Ys I." The tools that Adol gets are meant more for hocking or trespassing than any changes in how you attack. There's no bow or boomerang to give him some range. If you get a weapon, it's just another sword with more power. Nothing much outside of a little numerical boost. (Okay, a power bonus, and actually allowing damage on two bosses, but we'll…we'll get to those damn bosses.)

Everything comes down to you hauling ass into combat, then tearing Adol's ass back out. The poor boy has almost no invincibility frames to speak of, so it's very easy to make silver sashimi out of him if you aren't careful. While he does have some automatic health recovery, it requires him to be still and either in an open area or using a particular ring that you get later in the game. Sure, you can pop a healing potion from time to time. Just maybe not when you'd need it, like in a damn boss fight!

Seriously, man. What's up with that? Do you need to set out the fine china before you can take a sippy, Adol? That's very un-salmon-like behavior of you.

Because so much of the combat revolves around this hit-and-run style of swordplay, a lot of the boss design and tactics will devolve into "run at that guy the first chance you get" and "run in circles until you can stab that guy." About the only major curveball the game throws at you with this is requiring silver equipment for precisely two bosses. These bosses are also infuriating in the "Ys I" variant I played. Like, I easily spent 20-30 minutes killing a boss that only takes a minute to kill when done correctly. It's never a good sign when you open up an FAQ only for it to go "LOL, good luck." It got to the point where I had to mute the game just so that I would stop getting distracted by the awesome music. That's what these bosses did to me. They drove me into committing audio felonies.

Now, this boss issue is something I lay at the feet of the designers for the "Ys I" variant I played (the Chronicles+ Steam port.) See, when I look at PC-88 footage for these bosses, I don't see the particle hell that I had to endure. Even other ports aren't as aggressive as the Chronicles+ version. I don't know if someone had bullet hell brain rot or wanted to throw as many projectiles on screen as possible just for a computational flex, but man, was it aggravating. 

If everything about "Ys I" was as frustrating and repulsive as those bosses, the game wouldn't have survived past its inaugural entry. Lucky for it, the game has a lot of things going for it aesthetically. The game puts a great deal of effort into its character portraits and sprite work, blending top-down action with full portraits like something out of a visual novel. It can be a remarkably peaceful game to look at. Like, I did end up taking breaks while digging through an abandoned mine or a massive tower's annex just to admire what little sunlight came down upon gently swaying bridges. The Chronicles+ version is at least pretty. I'll give it that! Even the original release has its charms with its sprite work. Frankly, I think the main screen and final boss portraits look better in the PC-88 version, if for nothing else than for the feelings of imaginary nostalgia and subtle chills I get looking at them.

While "Ys I" doesn't have the most complex plot in the world, it was certainly leaps and bounds ahead of most games from the 1980s. The game puts a great amount of effort into its NPCs, giving several their own portrait artwork and side quests. Hell, in the Chronicles+ version, you even get an achievement for talking to everybody. While never being fully conclusive on the exact nitty-gritty of Ys' fall, it's clear to understand what has happened to this place, as well as its goddesses. There are a lot of games that run Shintoism through European trappings, sure. Multitudes of goddesses, talking to sacred trees, sometimes getting swords out of them—I can think of at least two "Zelda"s and two "Tales" RPGs that work with the same tropes. However, this was one of the first games to do this, and it did it very well. There were at least two twists that I didn't see coming, one of which was quite shocking. Half of it was me not assuming that all brunets are related, sure. The other half? Well, let's just say I got more of a response out of it than when a certain "Final Fantasy" character got notoriously shafted.

The best quality of "Ys I", by far, is its soundtrack. I'm not kidding when I say this is how I was originally exposed to the game. A lot of what I listen to while working is video game soundtracks from the 1980s and 1990s. When this came up in my recommendations, I definitely took note of it. When it's not being eerie and mystical, it's driving with that sort of intensity rarely seen outside of late 80s/early 90s Japanese rock. If you are a synth fan, you owe it to yourself to listen to it. At least, give it three and a half minutes.

Hell, if you need a professional recommendation: former Capcom sound designer and current music professor / bird aficionado Hideaki Utsumi owns at least two variants of this game. I would imagine he would be much better at articulating how awesome this soundtrack and its programming is than I would.

As an additional note—one of the original composers for this game (Yuzo Koshiro) went on to make his own audio company, as well as contributed to a crapton of additional video games. (Not that Mieko Ishikawa is a slouch! She's holding the "Ys" series and other Nihon Falcom titles down just fine.) The particular interest I have with Mr. Koshiro is his contributions to "Castlevania: Portrait of Ruin." Like, yeah, the "Kid Icarus Uprising" stuff is mildly interesting, and anyone who is anyone in the Japanese video game music industry has ended up in a "Super Smash Bros." soundtrack at some point. But, ya know. I might like "Castlevania" a little bit. I could easily see his work slotting right into that series. (Or, hear, I guess.) Frankly, I'm surprised he wasn't called in to do more.

And, hey—if you're looking for more soundtracks that the pair worked on, check out "Sorcerian." Really confuse your YouTube recommendations. (Unless you're already on whatever pulse wave I'm already surfing, I guess! Then, I'm certain it's easy for us to shoot soundtracks we've both already heard to each other.)

I am curious about the limited amount of animation used by the Chronicles+ version of "Ys I." Originally, the animated intro was what made me think this game was based on a re-release set on the first PlayStation console. (I suppose it could have been a PlayStation 2 re-release as well.) It's a lovely intro! I dig it. I just don't know why the ending didn't have that quality to match it. I mean, I guess a still image was all the original "Ys I" had as well. It just feels weird to not have that same effort extended to the ending—especially, after all the effort I put into getting to it.   

Maybe the "Ys II" ending has a bit more going on with it.

I may have one or two ways to find that out…

I'm left in a weird place with "Ys I." It was mostly a good experience, but when it was bad, it was godawful. I can't imagine most modern gamers would have the patience or undead ego it requires to beat either of the bastard bosses I mentioned before. It's only 9 hours if you're going in raw, but man, will you come out raw in at least one of those hours. If you need a test of your ability to overcome absolute bullshit, then I guess you can give the Steam version a try. Honestly? I'm more prone to recommend an older version, even without my having played the older versions. The PC-88 version at least looks like something an average human could have beaten. At least, something that would have become a mind worm to the general development of games that followed in its wake. The Chronicles+ version…man, I don't know. At least don't pay full price for that. Especially not when my recommended solution would be…let's just say, not using any silver. Running black flags to ruin magical black capes.

Honestly, Adol should have just jacked that cape like Dorothy Gale and the Ruby and/or Silver Slippers. Clearly, its previous owner isn't getting any more use out of it. Might have been a pain in the ass to wash out and mend after the stupid sword fight, though.

#post game evaluation #ys 1

[a-fistful-of-birds]

The President is a What?

Chapter 3

Word count: ~1,700

The piercing scream of her alarm ripped Sayaka out of her sleep.

5:00am. Awake and ready for the day early as always, Sayaka made sure of it.

However, today she knew she would not be assuming her usual position in the student council room but rather helping the rest of the council clean up after last night’s celebration. Waking up a few hours early was no issue for Sayaka, she hopped up and turned off her alarm before grabbing a clean uniform and heading to the bathroom, giving Midari’s bedroom door a few hard knocks on the way to make sure the girl was awake. A loud groan sounded out and Sayaka grinned knowing there wasn’t much Midari could do other than complain. She had reluctantly agreed -or was rather forced by Runa- to accompany Sayaka to campus in the morning to help clean up the aftermath with the rest of the council.

Midari had resurfaced from her room by the time Sayaka had finished getting ready for the day, and the pair made their way to the bus stop after Sayaka stored her maps of the school away safely in her bag. She was stubborn in not losing them and had begun to memorize the layout in her mind, already planning to find the rooms by tapping along the school’s walls as she helped clean around the halls.

The shrieking squeal of the bus’s brakes alerted the girls to prepare for departure, mounting the stairs with student IDs in hands to present to the driver. The skies were noticeably darker this morning, with clouds seeming to slowly roll in while the sun still threatened to dominate the skies. ‘Looks like we may have a storm this afternoon, I will have to make sure the council doesn’t neglect to search the campus lawn for trash before noon.’ Sayaka looked over towards Midari, who was leaning her head against the seat in front of them, a slight bit of drool threatening to fall to her knees.

Sayaka rolled her eyes but couldn’t blame Midari, waking up at 5:00am was asking a lot even for Sayaka, who preferred the extra two hours they usually had during most weekdays.

A few minutes went by before the bus lurched into the parking lot of the school, jolting Midari awake from her impromptu nap. Dismounting from their seats, the girls quickly found their way inside. They separated to go their own ways, Midari towards who knows where to most likely ‘search’ for unopened beer cans and other less tasteful unattended items, and Sayaka straight for the council room. The girl frequently left her school bag in the council room when she was required elsewhere not for class, and had opened the doors to the room to safely store her stuff in one of the filing cabinets when her heart skipped a beat at a certain voice.

“Say-a-ka,” the president mused, immediately noticing the girl’s urgent entrance into the room. The girl in question froze, she was always the first one to the council room and certainly expected to be the first when it was so early in the morning today. Why was the president here so early by comparison? Was she looking for Sayaka? Maybe she never left the school last night to begin with, Sayaka recalled Kirari not making any indication to leave when she coaxed the other girl to go home.

“Y-yes, president?” Sayaka avoided eye contact with the older girl, still nervous to lock eyes with her after last night’s light teasing. A blush dusted her cheeks remember their exchange. The girl’s feelings for the president weren’t not obvious, Sayaka was terrible at hiding her emotions, which only worked to further provoke the president’s teasing.

“I know you always come in early, but you seem much more urgent than usual. Are you still thinking about our little discovery from last night?” Sayaka didn’t respond, still processing their sudden encounter.

“I- uh…yes, president.”

Kirari smiled at the girl. “What are your thoughts about it? Any considerations for maybe why someone would go through the trouble to close off certain parts of the building and hide them away from the world for years?”

Sayaka recalled the lack of any real information she found on the building’s history, just that it was an older building which belonged to the same family and was never officially marked as sold, but that it yet somehow still turned into the current academy. The building also was not old enough to likely hold anything of great value either, when compared to other infamous historical buildings around Japan.

“I’m not sure. The building isn’t old enough for someone to hide valuable items in, and the owner just as easily could have taken any family heirlooms with them or have hidden them off site or even kept them in a safe. Hiding something away in the walls of one’s home would feel more akin to the western world with its citizens hiding alcohol within the walls during prohibition,” she paused, “or someone hiding drugs. In both instances, the walls of the home were used to hide taboo or illegal substances.”

“Interesting. Well then, what do you propose the owner of this home was hiding from the rest of the world?” Sayaka hummed in thought. “I don’t know, president.”

Sayaka felt a hand graze her chin, forcing her to look into the president’s eyes. “I trust you will find more information as you look around the school, you’ve already located every hidden room it seems judging by the map in your bag, dear.”

Kirari slipped the map out of Sayaka’s bag to get a closer look but was instead met with a large phallic depiction and certain cardio activities drawn in the corner of the page with red crayon.

Sayaka’s face flushed.

“Seems rather adventurous for your tastes, Sayaka.”

“It’s not like that, I swear,” Sayaka didn’t know what to say, “I would never dream of that.” She mentally kicked herself for wording it like that. “Oh? Dream of what exactly?” Kirari pried playfully, not so patiently waiting for the girl’s answer. An answer she was interested in knowing, as it would give Kirari the chance to know if she truly had a shot with Sayaka, as she never gave any hints or indications to which way she leaned. The girl never entertained entering relationships, so any information to that side of her was unknown, something Kirari, who always knew the exact way others’ lives would play out, was not used to.

Kirari reached her hand out towards Sayaka.

Sayaka brisked, “It’s nothing,” backing away to finish putting her bag away in one of the cabinets, she could collect the map from Kirari later as she already had the contents completely memorized. Sayaka started back towards the double doors, not wanting to interact with the president any longer. A finger snagged Sayaka by the collar and brought her back to face Kirari, her facial features darkened, “You’re not leaving this room until you’ve answered my question, dear.”

Sayaka didn’t know how to react, hiding her face as best she could in the crook of the president’s neck.

She gave, her voice hushed. “I would never dream of defacing any materials,” Sayaka was met with silence indicating the other was waiting for her to finish her response, “or partake in any activities with the opposite sex.”

Sayaka responded so quietly that Kirari had a hard time hearing the girl but managed to process what was whispered. She unhooked her fingers from the girl’s uniform and stepped back, taking in the other’s expression.

“Tell me then, what do you dream of?”

Sayaka winced, she was not prepared to be having this conversation with the president at such a time and place. “How about we continue this conversation another time, okay president?”

Kirari remembered how Sayaka wanted to search around the school, “yes, we can do just that,” Sayaka sighed in relief, “but only if you gamble with me.” Sayaka’s face dropped as Kirari smiled. Oh god. Kirari knew about Sayaka never wishing to partake in a gamble so why try and lure her into one now, and over such a small occurrence? She wasn’t planning on keeping her sexuality hidden from the president, but she never pictured what telling the president would look like.

“We can negotiate the rules later, I know you are eager to explore the school, Sayaka. There is a small toolbox in the council room closet and you already have access to the various janitor closets around the school if you need quick access to any tools. I trust you will be clean about damaging the dear walls and integrity of the school.” Kirari handed the map back before stalking back to her seat, “Report back any findings.”

________________________________________

“Oh come on, already! Why do I have to be the one to carry all of the supplies while you go around knocking on the walls? I want to get this over with and bust these rooms in so we can find the fucking treasure and make so easy cash!”

Midari groaned as they walked down the halls, carefully marking and drilling small peepholes through walls deemed fake. “We were instructed to conduct our searches with as little damage done to the interior as possible. It does not matter that the walls are fake, Midari, there is still the threat of discovering asbestos and releasing it into the main body of the school! Plus, you are in charge of holding all of the supplies because you were the cause of my most awkward encounter with the president yet!” Sayaka balanced the drill back into the stack Midari was carrying before looking through the small hole she drilled, once again met with empty space. They were beginning to lose hope for finding anything interesting, so far there were three small empty gaps no wider than four feet between the interior and original walls with nothing of any value spotted save for a couple of lost bolts from the construction workers who were the last visitors. Sayaka slumped and shook her head, letting Midari know it was another dud and they continued walking.

Midari laughed. “Hey, maybe you could consider it as me helping you out! I know you’ve liked that chick for a few years now, how come you two haven’t banged yet?”

Sayaka huffed as her face turned beet red, “First of all, keep it down! Secondly, I doubt the president is even into that and I don’t want to be responsible for making our professional relationship awkward lest I have to put up with such tension for any more than a day.”

Another hole began drilling into the wall but was met with greater resistance; a stud. “Ah crap,” Sayaka let out. “Be ready to switch places if I can’t remove the drill bit, I hit a stud in the wall.”

Sayaka braced her right knee and hip against the wall and she reversed the tool’s rotation and backed out of the hole, a small thump sounded from the other side, quickly grabbing the attention of both girls. Blowing into the hole to remove any leftover sawdust, Sayaka cautiously peered in. “Looks like there are secrets to this place after all, take a look,” Sayaka stepped back and let Midari get a peak. “Well it’s no treasure but after a few hours of looking at nothing, I guess it’s sorta cool. Care to retrieve it or..?” Midari’s expression made it clear that while she didn’t care for the contents of the room, she badly wanted to partake in destruction of property.

“Yes, I do,” Midari met Sayaka’s eye, causing her infectious grin to affect the girl as well, “...Yes, you can make a larger hole in the wall, but don’t hurt the book!”

A loud crunch was heard before Sayaka could continue her speech. Splintered drywall lay scattered at the secretary’s feet. The pungent smell of old books and dust filled the air, causing a violent but short coughing fit to erupt from her lungs, she wasn’t used to inhaling so much dust and the miniscule particles which violated her throat burned. Sayaka doubled over, using a hand to steady herself against the wall to not drop any further into the oppressive cloud of ancient air and god knows.

“Here,” Midari held the book up the Sayaka, “this is the only thing in the room.” Sayaka accepted the delicate work and wiped any remaining dust off its cover while recovering from her fit of coughing turned sneezing. The title was illegible but the name was barely visible: Ovid.

What the hell?

Sayaka flipped the cover over and examined the contents, it did not appear to be any valuable or original copy, lowering her direct desire to protect such a worn item a little further down in her priorities. Most of the pages were torn, almost completely faded away, or missing. A few pages were blocked out in a deeply satin ink as well as parts of the front and back covers to the book, whoever spilt ink had done so while this work lay open.

Midari stood and began dusting herself off, “So, anything good?” Sayaka thought for a moment before gently shaking her head. “No, this book is badly damaged and doesn’t appear to be any sort of first edition or original work, it’s obviously been published by press or machine. I can’t make out the title and the author’s name doesn’t ring any immediate bells.”

The beautification council president shrugged, signifying her question to Sayaka. “We will still need to present this to the president of course,” Sayaka stared at the cover, “just not right now.”

“Oh, keeping secrets of our own are we?” Midari jested.

“I’m not keeping this a secret! I want to conduct a bit of private research before handing it off to the president. For once, I am unfamiliar with an author’s name and I don’t want to disappoint if asked point blank if I know anything about this book, much less if it has anything to do with this school.”

Sayaka was only met with a facial expression rapidly growing in amusement, oh how she wished she could wipe the shit eating grin from the other girl’s face at times.

Pulling out her phone, she checked the time. “It’s getting late, we don’t need to be missing the bus home again. Come on, let’s clean up and get going.” Midari looked back at the mess littering the floor and groaned, “Aw come on! Do we have to? We can say a fight occurred and a kid got shoved too hard into the wall!”

The other hummed before a smile of her own adorned her features, “here, how about you clean this mess up since you made it and I take the rest of the supply back to the council room? You sure complained an awful lot about having to carry everything the entire way, consider this as my way of helping relieve you of such duties.” Sayaka smiled as Midari’s face fell.

“God I really despise you sometimes.” “I know.”

________________________________________

Sayaka walked all of the supplies provided to her by the president, save for a dustpan and broom left with Midari, back to the council room. The two girls had spent the entire day at the academy cleaning, attending to normal day-to-day activities, and getting a start on scouting the building. The doors to the council room cracked open as Sayaka pushed herself into the room with her foot holding the door open, the room was completely empty save for her personal belongings. Sayaka stowed her belongings in the council’s private janitor’s closet, and walked towards the filing cabinets to grab her stuff.

Her eyes were met with a small blue sticky note sitting atop her bag, it read one word: ‘Metamorphoses’

#sayaka x kirari #kirari momobami #sayaka igarashi #kakeguri #kakeguri fanfic #kirasaya