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my-love-of-books · 3 months

Note

hey sorry if this is weird this is my first time requesting 😭 but can you do ftm flirty reader x five from the umbrella academy where that five is fighting some guys (you can choose who) and some how the reader gets in the fight to and helps five. Also the reader calls five pretty boy and some other flirty names like btw. Andddd thats all I couldn't think what comes after that sorry 😭 but you can continue off it tho!

Noooo I'm horrible at writing fight scenes😭 we shall try tho! The first fight I thought of was ofc the iconic gridy's donuts' fight, so wish me luck!!

Paring: five x ftm!reader —(honestly reader is pretty gn here, sorry ik thats not what you wanted anon😭)

Warning: cursing, NOT proofread (sorry), gun wound, really short

I huff and pull the stupid blazer –they said there was nothing else for me to where other than one of five's old uniforms– closer around my shoulders as I walk towards the donut shop Five had supposedly gone to. A small smile spreads across my face when I see my partner though the window, I let myself in and walk up right beside him; ignoring the older-looking man on the other side.

"Alright sweets, next time, don't run off and leave me at that house by myself, please and thank you" I say, pulling out a bar stool.

"you weren't by yourself, you had my siblings." he murmurs nonchalantly. "Right, Miss famous and the Junkie did directed me here, thought the latter would not shut up about my sex life." I laughed at the recent memory and smirked at Five. He sips his coffee; the Older man nods our way before leaving. "Gonna give me some of that?" I whisper, leaning closer to the school boy.

His eyes flicker to me, then to my lips, then back to my eyes. I raise my eyebrow at him, "In here? You perv!" I jokingly whisper. He scoffs and rolled his eyes, sipping his coffee again, but I see it's just to hide his growing blush and smile.

"You said it not me"

My devious smirk only grows "Oh come on, can't help it when you look at me so pretty-"

Suddenly the door behind us swings open and multiple men in black tactical gear with guns walk in, surrounding us. One man in particular moves to stand closer to us, almost between me and five. I sit up straighter, eyes scanning the room, looking for weaknesses; my eyes flick to the brown haired boy beside me who seems to be studying the coffee in front of him, rather than the room now full of men who want us dead. "Five" I whisper.

"that was fast... 'thought Id have more time before they found me." "Okay..." the black man's voice seemed to tremble a bit as he spoke; the corners of my mouth twitched, this would be easy. "...So let's all be professional about this yeah? On your feet and come with us. They wanna talk" "I have nothing to say"

"I do" I do my best to suppress a smirk as I stand up, Five glares at me. The mans gun swiftly moves to point at me. "It doesn't have to go this way. You think I wanna shoot kids? Go home with that on my conscience?"

"oh I wouldn't worry to much about that," I say "you won't be going home" Five finishes my sentence as he grabs a butter knife from the the counter and blinks behind the man, stabbing him in the neck. Guns start going off when I grab the, now dead, man and use him as a shield from the bullets.

"Hey assholes" Five calls from across the room, allowing me to run up to the closest man as he begins to fire at me and force his gun under his own chin in one deft motion. I glance around the room, where five is nowhere to be seen. "A little help here pretty boy?" With the attention now drawn to me I jump over the counter, hiding behind it for a moment when I here the signature *whoosh* of him blinking, this time outside of the shop, drawing their fire, before right beside me "I told you not to call me that" he practically snarled. I laughed a bit; as my shoulders moved I noticed a bullet had skimmed part of my arm. *Shit... Thats gonna hurt when the adrenaline wears of*" I think to myself, watching the blood dribble from the wound.

The lights were blinking, bullets still going off. I was trying to formulate a plan on how I could help when it all when silent. "Five?" I call out, standing up from behind the counter

"yeas darling?" He asks, tightening his tie and walking over to a still-moving man, instantly breaking his neck. "N- nothing just got worried for a second" my arm began to throb.

He helps me over the counter, "you okay baby?" "Oh so you can call me baby but I can't call you pretty boy?" He gives me a stern look. "It's different, you don't go out into the field, you could have gotten seriously hurt."

"excuse you," I murmur "I used to be one of the top field agents-" "-before they shoved you behind a desk, now come on we gotta get movin'." Five kisses my forehead and brushes my wounded shoulder as he grabs a knife and begins cutting out those trackers they put in all field agents. I do my best not to react to the pain caused by the bullet, he doesn't need to know right now, it would ruin the quite sweet moment.

#I didn't like explicitly say anything about reader being ftm #should I have? Idkidk sorry #I hope you liked it!#five x reader #five ask #number five #five hargreeves #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreaves x you #five hargreeves x reader #Five x ftm!reader #Five x male!reader #five x reader fluff #five x y/n #five x you #Tua #tua five #tua fluff

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void-ink-studios · 6 months

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Gala of the Gods (Part 3)

Alright, Part 3 is here!

You get art this time around as well, as I couldn't resist drawing their fancy outfits! Hmm, nothing like attempting to draw these characters for the first time in fancy clothing with patterns and shit, I'm a smart one.

Hope y'all enjoyed this little 3-parter. If anyone have more ideas, I'd love to hear it, because I like writing these two.

Also, before you read, just as a heads up, it gets a little suggestive at the very end. It's a firm fade to black, but it is a thing that exists. Look for a line of dashes if you'd rather not read it.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 -You Are Here-

Word Count: 2,300

The Organizer was not a god of... standard form. She wasn't a god of standard anything, to be fair. Scarab couldn't recall many run-ins with her, as their work very rarely overlapped, but that did not make sitting in her office with her staring down at him any more comforting or less nerve racking.

There was a constant noise, as her many, many arms carried on with her daily tasks. Some were writing, others were stamping, some were shredding, it was all happening at once. Her many eyes free roamed around the office as she worked, but she had decided to keep maybe half a dozen glued to the two gods sitting across from her desk.

Lucky them.

No one spoke for a long time. Scarab just nervously fiddled with his can, while Prismo seemed to be doing his best to will the floor to swallow him, shoulders coming up to his ears.

"I thought I had made the policy of fighting at my Gala very clear." Her voice echoed all over the room, rather than coming from some visible mouth. The both of them flinched at the sudden break of silence. "Scarab, while I might be less surprised due to past behavior, I must say I'm still disappointed with your recent track record. Prismo, I can't say I expected to see you in my office of all gods."

"But-"

"I-"

They both started at the same time, but were silenced by a single raised hand.

"However. I am not all-knowing. That is the Observer's job. Prismo, you are not one to cause problems often. And Scarab, despite your difficulties with others, you always filed your paperwork on time. So, I am giving each of you a chance to explain yourselves."

Scarab waited for some signal from her that he was permitted to speak.

"...Prismo, it was you who started it, so you will be first to explain yourself."

Prismo audibly gulped.

"O-Okay... I'd just like to clarify, Scarab and I were not fighting, not in the way you might be expecting. It was my fault..."

Scarab's eyes widened, about to jump in, but was silenced by a hard glare from the Organizer. She gestured for Prismo to continue.

"I lost control over an aspect of myself, and started lashing out. Scarab was just trying to neutralize the threat and calm me down. He wasn't trying to hurt me. Just stop me from hurting others."

There was more silence as the Organizer mulled this information over. Her gaze shifted to Scarab.

"Scarab. Can you confirm this story?"

"Yes ma'am. I was not trying to do harm onto Prismo. I had never seen that aspect of him act out, and I was not sure if or when he could regain control. So I worked to put a stop to it. The only weapon I used was a glorified flashlight."

"I see." Scarab saw distantly a set of arms start sorting through a filing cabinet. "Can you tell me why this aspect of Prismo got so out of control? Last I understood, Prismo, you had achieved complete control and cohesion with all aspects of your dream form. Has this changed?"

"No, no! It's, uh, different..."

"How so?"

"Well... my nightmare aspect only flares up under extreme negative emotions... Stuff life fear or really bad sadness or... when I'm really, really angry. That's what happened tonight, ma'am. I hit a boiling point and it... blew up."

She gave a pointed gaze toward Scarab, causing the beetle to sink into his seat.

"No! It wasn't Scarab's fault!"

"It wasn't?"

"No! I mean, Scarab's related, but it wasn't his fault!"

"How is he related, but not his fault, Prismo?"

Prismo ran a hand through his curls, trying to collect himself.

"So, Scarab's been under my management after the whole Fionna and Cake fiasco, right?"

"Yes, I remember signing that change of management form. I must say, I was a bit confused when I heard you had volunteered. My understanding was the entire incident was caused by a conflict between the two of you."

"It was but... well, the whole thing was my fault to begin with. I did make a rogue universe, and Scarab was just doing his job. He went too far at the end, and it was definitely more personal than his other cases, but I still did what he said I did, and he was right to try and do his job."

The beetle sighed. This was a conversation they had had many times. A lot of confusing feelings had needed to get detangled if they were going to live together. They had forgiven each other for quite a while.

"So, what did Scarab's assignment to you have to do with what happened tonight?"

"Well, Scarab and I have been getting closer. Bonding. We're actually really close now." The Organizer have him a very knowing stare. "I consider him one of my best friends and... I've been learned a lot about him. A lot about how he's been treated by our coworkers and... it wasn't nice and it wasn't fair. I've been getting more and more angry at the others for how they've been treating someone they don't even know, particularly Orbo."

Prismo's hands clenched into fists as he took a deep breath. The Organizer hummed. "What happened between you and Orbo?"

"Orbo cornered me tonight and tried to convince me that Scarab was changing me for the worse because I've been less than nice to him and others who keep trying to act like Scarab's some sort of monster. I got sick and tired of people acting like I was stupid for helping him, that I'm being manipulated. I'm tired of hearing 'Poor Prismo, getting stuck with Scarab, it's so sad for him', like I didn't volunteer for it!"

Scarab felt his mandibles tense... that's what had happened...? Orbo said that...? Was it... true... was he changing Prismo for the worse?

"Orbo making these comments are... interesting."

Scarab raised a brow. "Interesting how?"

"Because he filed complaints and write ups for you every Glob Forsaken time he thought he could."

All color drained from Scarab's face. His heart raced, and he started shaking enough for his carapace to click together.

"He what?!"

"He's submitted thousands of these things over the years. Pretty much none of them went anywhere because the Observer never confirmed the infractions described in the write-ups. Of all your write ups, only three have ever been acted on."

"...Three...?"

"Yes. The first two had notes that Orbo had the authority to discipline as he saw fit within reasonable boundaries. The third lead to the decision to move you into Prismo's management."

Authority to discipline as Orbo saw fit...

He touched the cropped stumps of his former antenna... he felt the lingering burn in his shoulders from his ripped wings...

"Do you... know what those punishments were...?"

"I was not privy to details. Just that they were carried out, and you returned to your duties."

There was a heavy pause, as both Prismo and Scarab processed that news.

"Well, if what you say is true, and I will be calling in the Observer to confirm, then it seems a meeting between Orbo and I is in order. However."

Prismo took hold of Scarab's hand.

"You two did break one of my only rules of the Gala. While it might not have been a true fight, it did cause panic and damage in the Judgement Hall. While it was not either of you who instigated the conflict, it was you two who escalated it to physical violence. It needs to be addressed."

The Organizer pinned the both of them down with a withering stare. Scarab would never not feel like he was a child around her.

Especially now. He saw the way her hands moved, the relentless precision with which she worked. It would be... frighteningly easy for her to pull his arms or legs off... He cast a worried glance to Prismo. His mortal body was much... softer than Scarabs... it... wouldn't survive getting plucked apart...

"...As punishment, you two are going to be my assistants for the time being. Prismo, your job as Wishmaster is still in effect, and you both will be allowed to return to the Time Room. However, you should expect paperwork to periodically be teleported into the chamber. I expect you both to work to complete that paperwork in a timely manner, as accurately as possible. You will be granted limited access to the divine records room for reference. Failure to perform this new duty will have me dragging the both of you back in here. And I won't be as nice next time."

There was a decisive stamp suddenly in front of them, as the Organizer slid a piece of paper in front of them.

Scarab read it. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He almost wept. Paperwork. He could handle that. He wasn't getting pulled part today. Prismo wasn't getting pulled apart today.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes ma'am" they both said together.

"Good. Now, off you go, I have a Star Core I need to speak with."

Before either could say another word, they were warped away in a rainbow of light, and deposited quite ungracefully on the floor of the Time Room.

"Ugh, that sucks a lot when someone else is warping me... Paperwork's gonna suck though, right Scrabs?"

Prismo rubbed the back of his head as he sat up. He spotted Scarab in the corner, huddled down, making himself as small as possible. His heart squeezed as he crawled over to him.

"Hey Lovebug..." He tried to put his hand on his shoulder, but the beetle shied away from the touch. "...Are you okay...?"

Scarab sighed a tired chirp. "No Prismo... I'm... not okay. You were... so angry... you were angry because of me... You're... you're very frightening when you're angry..."

Prismo frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. "No, Lovebug. That wasn't your fault..."

"But it is... You've been so... so kind to me, Prismo... So accommodating and forgiving and sweet... You're making enemies out of friends over me... And... what have I done? What have I done to deserve any of that..."

"Scarab, no-"

"Look at me, Prismo" he snapped. "I'm... not worth this... I'm not good, not like you. I've just been... a problem. An obstacle. Something to work around..."

Scarab's voice sounded so small... Prismo wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed.

"Scarab. You are not an obstacle. I do those things because I want you to feel safe and cared for. And... tonight, you've done more than anyone really has before."

"...How...?"

"Look... When Nightmo takes control, there's not much hope for me coming down on my own. He's a protective measure, but he works too well. He feeds off of negative feelings, the fear and anger around him. He just gets bigger and bigger and more hostile, until there's nothing left to feed on. He has to be subdued or he'll destroy everything around him. I've... I've never seen him back down willingly. Not until tonight."

Scarab looked into Prismo's eyes, wide and uncertain.

"But... but he didn't back down, I had to neutralize him..."

"Scarab, you talked Nightmo down. Yeah, you had to get him small enough to pay attention, but it was your words that got him to fall back. He... He knows you're safe. He'll retreat because he believes you'll protect me. And that's... never happened before. Ever."

Scarab saw the tears pooled in Prismo's eyes, a sad and tired smile spread across his face. He pulled the beetle closer to give sweet kisses to his cheek and neck.

"You've been opening my eyes, Scarab. I was only everybody's pal because they thought I was... in on the joke. I didn't even realize what complete and total wads they were, because they thought I was "cool" or whatever. I don't want to be friends with people who could do the things they've done to you, just because they think no one will care. I have standards. And now I know they don't meet them. I'm not losing friends over you, I'm just finding out who really is and isn't a friend."

Prismo placed a soothing hand at the base of one of Scarab's wings.

"So no, Lovebug. You're not making me worse. You make me, even the worst parts of me, feel safe. I love you. All of me loves you."

Scarab should've been a bit embarrassed by the noises he was making, but it didn't particularly matter now. Not when the two trapped each other in a tight embrace, and a loving kiss. Mandibles threaded through gray hair, talons touched the soft skin they found, and gentle hands soothed aching shoulders.

"I love you too, Prismo" Scarab whispered as they separated for air. He chirped softly as the Wishmaster continued kissing at his neck, his wings twitching and fluttering as best they could.

-----------------------

"...You're so beautiful. You look so beautiful like this..."

Prismo's hands held his waist firmly, thumb rubbing at a seam in his carapace.

"Hmmm... What are you planning, oh great Wishmaster?"

"Well... We do have these bodies. For a little bit longer. I've got no plans for right now. But I could. Or, we could cuddle. Up to you, Lovebug."

Prismo busied himself with Scarab's neck again as the beetle thought. Or, well, as he tried to, but his own shell was suddenly feeling a bit warm. One of his claws traced around the Wishmaster's neck and shoulder.

"I... I think you're quite beautiful as well, Prismo. I'd be... willing to explore whatever plans you might come up with."

Prismo gave him a peck on the cheek, a maybe slightly smug grin on his face.

"I think that can be arranged."

And he closed the door of the Time Room.

#prohibitedwish #my art #digital art #scarab x prismo #scarab the god auditor #prismo the wishmaster #prohibitedwish fanfic #wrath of the wishmaster

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 10 months

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Crossfire Jack Reacher(Alan Ritchson) x AFAB/F!Reader Excerpt

General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given.

Specific Warnings: This is pure smut with story (but it’s mostly about the smut), Size kink, teasing, mutual pining, angst, P in V unprotected (birth control and trust re STI’s(get checked up and keep your partners informed frens)), drinking, swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of war/war fighting, mentions of PTS/PTSD, trauma, military terminology, strip teasing, rough sex, size kink, (small) praise kink, feisty Reader.

No mention of Y/N, Reader has nicknames, Teach/Bambi, was in the army with reacher, still doing covert stuff as a mercenary.

Finished a OneShot that I couldn’t get out of my head, might become Multi-chapter but we’ll see. Here’s an Excerpt.

““You two ever actually fuck?” Frankie asks you and you almost choke on the dregs of your beer.

“No, never, fucking hell Neagley, you trying to kill me?” You splutter, well aware that you’re far too flustered. Reacher notices it too and you see the vein on his neck pop as he stifles a triumphant smile.

“You should have, would’ve made things easier.” She shrugs as she takes another swig of her beer.

“That’s rich coming from you.” You needle back, knowing well that your relationship was tight knit enough to make that joke.

“Fair, but you’re a slutty little bisexual, either fuck him and get it over and done with or get over yourself.” Frankie says with a twitch of her lips. She has you there. The only thing that ever stopped you from fucking Reacher was your own ego.

“Fuck you.” You grumble as you gesture between your empty drinks before asking the obvious, “You want another?”

“As long as you’re buying.” Frankie says with a dazzling smile.

“Always, be back in a flash.” You say with a smirk. You love Frankie, you’d even, sort-of kind-of, dated for a while when you left the service, but Frankie being such a haptephobiac scuppered things for you both. You loved each other dearly but you’re a tactile, sexual person, and having to supress your own instincts wasn’t healthy for either of you. But it didn’t stop you loving one another, and that was something neither of you denied, you just expressed it differently, and that was ok.

You make your way to the bar, waiting patiently as the other, dressed up women got served before you. You’d grown used to it, you never dressed up, not for weddings, not for funerals, not for anyone. It had it’s perks, but in a bar, it meant you were served when you were served. You drum your fingers on the edge of the bar after a while, slowly getting tired of waiting.

“Hey,” Reacher’s low rumble makes you shiver as his large form cages you in. His navy shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as you see the firm, thick cords of his forearms hem you in as his large hands rest on the bar, “How’s Civvy life treating you?” He breathes into the shell of your ear as you shudder beneath him.

“Shit, I can’t be as lucky as you and land myself in the middle of murder investigations and big ol’ conspiracies like you J.” You say, using the nickname you know he hates.

“It cost me a brother, so I don’t know if you can call that luck.” He growls against your skin as he inches forward slowly. You feel the brush of his fucking marbled pecs against your shoulders as he tries to draw you in. This was a dance you had both done many times, riling the other up, pushing the limits to breaking point. But there was always an angle, exploiting each other’s vulnerabilities to get what you wanted, or needed.

It’s the toxic part of your relationship with Reacher you never allow yourself to admit to, but it’s also the only thrill you get anymore. Years of the brass putting warfighting over warfighters meant you were numb to just about any stimulus. Except Reacher.

“Fair,” You nod, trying to keep your mind clear as your whole body screams to push back against Reacher, goad him on so he can finally give you what you’ve craved for over a decade, “But we both know you’re not here for sentimentality and feelings.” You breathe, trying so damned hard not to grind back against him.

He wants something, whatever this is will cost you.

“Correct.” He grumbles before a hand falls from the bar, resting against your hip instead, “Tell me to stop, tell me you don’t want this and I’ll walk away.” He pants against the clammy skin of your neck as you try to wrestle control from the primal part of your brain that would let him rail you right now, against the bar in front of everyone.

“Why now?” You ask, the logical part of your brain interrupting at just the wrong time, you want to take it back, let Jack play his game, maybe let him win for once, then let him fuck you into oblivion but that simple question shatters the illusion.

“Never mind, have a good night, see you ‘round Teach.” Reacher’s tone is clipped as he detaches from you with surgical precision. His body melds back into the crowd instantly as he flees from you retreating back to reality once more.”

What do you think? Do you want to read it? I hope so as I had so much fun with this one.

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friendly-alien-fucker · 2 years

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Wee woo! I was wondering if you could write a male Yautja with a protective human mate? Even tho humans are WAY weaker.

What if another Yautja was insulting y/n, they doesn’t really care, then y/n’s mates comes out and is about to start shit. Then the rude Yautja insults their mate, before hubby can do anything to protect their honor little y/n knocks the guy tf out. What did we learn? Don’t talk shit about y/n’s mate.

Alien husband be like🧍‍♂️hold up-

Sorry if that was super specific, it’s been on my mind for a while and I haven’t been able to pleasingly write it for myself T^T

Your writing gives me something to look forward too at the end of a long, exhausting day. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. <3

A Yautja with a very protective human mate

Thank you very much for this request, @looseratinthegarage , I hope I met your expectations! 💖

Warnings: cussing, insults, fighting but nothing too serious

________________________________________

You weren't quite popular amongst your alien shipmates. Not that it was much different from when you lived among humans, but at least they usually had the decency to wait until you left the room to talk shit about you.

Here, yautja would talk about you in plain sight, often looking at you while they did so. And instead of insults being muttered under their breath, they'd sometimes even stop you in your tracks just to let you know how little they valued your existence. They were obviously trying to get under your skin, which is why you tried so hard to just ignore their comments.

If you're being honest, you didn't mind them that much anyways. It was actually kinda refreshing- having people tell you what's on their mind for a change, even if it was negative.

But even then, you had to draw the line somewhere.

Today was Saturday, or at least you thought it was. Dates kind of blurred together since you moved onto the ship, but you still tried to retain some sort of routine. You had made some plans with your mate today since they didn't plan to go on a hunt, and you'd long been waiting to do something romantic for them. Well, as romantic as it can be when your life is reduced to a ship on which most areas you didn't have access to.

Looking yourself up and down in the mirror, you flashed a smile before taking your pocketknife and hiding it somewhere with easy access. It was almost time for your mate to arrive, and you'd intentionally picked an outfit you knew they enjoyed seeing you in.

With a kick in your step, you turned around to leave and made your way to your mate's quarters, only to meet them about halfway there.

"ah, there you are." you said and extended your hand, them gladly taking it, purring audibly as they did so "Are you excited?"

"You always excite me." they purred, grinning as they saw the blood rushing to your cheeks. You coughed, pulling on their arm as you led them to your first destination.

"yeah, yeah. You can tease me later. Right now we've got better things to do."

They tilted their head at you, having no problem keeping up even with you practically running to get where you wanted to go. "Which are?" they questioned.

"Patience." You scolded them, before you two turned a corner and got to one of the more populated areas of the ship. Something they didn't seem too fond of, gripping your hand so tight it almost hurt.

You stroked it reassuringly, looking up at them with a soft smile. They always worried so much about you, especially when around others of their kind. And though you understood why, you didn't want them to worry on your date. You wanted to make them feel good.

"hey, it's alright. C'mon, let me show you what I've planned for us." you took their hand up to your mouth to kiss it, before leading them into one of the rooms, which was filled with hand weapons and a large training area.

You had to hold in your laughter as you saw the question marks appear above their head.

"You...want me to train?" They asked confused. They were training a lot already, did you not think they were doing enough? Were you questioning their strength? They quickly shook that thought away. You had reassured them many times that you felt safe with them.

Then perhaps...

"I see." they hummed, taking one of larger blades and flexing their muscles. "You wish to watch me train, then?"

You laughed at this, gently taking the weapon and putting it back in it's place before taking a smaller one for yourself. You placed it's tip to your mate's chest threateningly, but they didn't as much as flinch as they looked down at you and raised an eyebrow. Cocky bastard... You lovingly cursed them in your mind

"Sort of. I want you to teach me." you say as you put the weapon back in it's place "You always worry so much, I thought this would help you sleep better knowing I could defend myself if the need arises." with delight, you watched as their eyes lit up at this and they moved towards you, obviously liking the idea.

Though before they could give you your first instructions, a loud growl came from behind, interrupting your little moment.

Annoyed, you spun around, meeting with the face of a yautia you've had the displeasure meeting before, but neglected to tell your mate in fear they might start a scene. Though obviously your efforts were now in vain.

"Why are you here?" They growled, not bothering to bend their back to look you in the eye, and instead puffing out their chest and, quite literally, looking down on you. "Do you enjoy taking up others space, ooman? Do you not realize that nobody wants you here?"

You rolled your eyes at their words. Can't you guys come up with something creative for once?

Getting ready to make a snarky remark, you got pushed back by your mate before you could open your mouth. Growling at them and flaring their mandibles, they stood before you, ready to defend your honor. You sighed, there it is. The Scene.

The other Yautja imitated your mate's stance, now directing their uncreative insults at them.

"And you, do you think there's any worth in that ooman you're mating? Or are you that incapable with your own species that you have to resort to... this" they spat, nodding in your direction.

Okay. Maybe a scene wouldn't be too bad right now.

Your mate was just about claw at them, when you stepped in. And before either of them could react you lurched forward to grab at their shoulder, using your leg to trip them and send them flying on their back. With a loud thud, they met with the ground, any attempts to get back at you dying as they saw the knife pressed firmly against their neck.

It was quiet for a few seconds as both of them stared at you in awe. Eventually, your mate stepped forward to place a warm hand on your shoulder. Their tone calm, but the look in their eyes and the loud purring showing just how ecstatic they were with what you just did.

"You're right little one, this does alleviate some of my worry."

#- and then they fcked lol #okay no but seriously #I really enjoyed this request even if it ended up being a little short but sometimes it just be like that yk #i hope you still liked it!#alien vs predator #yautja #alien #slasher #💚original post💚#yautja x reader #the predator #yautja x human #(also thank you for the nice words they really made my evening <3)

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artsofmetamoor · 1 month

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Young Caleb and Diego.

Caleb and Diego were both found by Julian, a while after the rebellion against prince Phobos broke out, they grew up together in the middle of all the chaos, living the struggles that no child should be able to endure. Despite Julian becoming a caring father figure to the boys, he was also busy leading the whole resistance and thus he had to prepare Caleb and Diego for the upcoming war, which forced them to grow up far too quickly, relying on each other, and the rebellion for survival.

Caleb of course grows up to become the next rebel leader after Julian is lost in battle, and Diego his right hand man.

Their pose was inspired by the painting "The Princes in the Tower'" by John Everett Millais, 1878. The whole story and melancholy of the piece portraying the children facing the dangerous unknown together reminded me of our boys ❤️

@katerinaaqu 's written work featuring Diego (and Caleb), her portrayal of this original character of ours is always fantastic ❤️:

Uneasy Lies The Head

His Trauma and his Consolation

Hidden Truth Prequel: The Peak of Madness

I've not been posting much lately I apologize for that, life was keeping me... and recently much to my frustration my motivation is just dying, even tho I really want to draw... there's no better way to put this, I overall just feel like shit... just lost, empty and sad.

But regardless I decided to try and fight against all these nasty shadows over my head and force myself to create something, anything, hopefully more will come.

One step at a time I suppose, may it all get better.

Hope everyone is alright, take care ❤️

#caleb #diego #collab with katerinaaqu #chronicles of metamoor #rebellion #meridian #metamoor #w.i.t.c.h.#original characters #metamoor other

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phoenixonwheels · 8 months

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The ~discourse~ around the term cripple punk is so wild to me bcs from what I've seen the people arguing that it includes mental illnesses/disabilities are mentally ill people who are ALSO physically disabled explaining from experience that not only are mental illnesses oftentimes disabling in exactly the same way physical disabilities are, but that trying to draw a hard line between "physical" and "mental" conditions is reductive and unhelpful in terms of actually accommodating us and understanding our conditions, especially given that both have so much overlap that it's hard to distinguish what's coming from where in the first place. Like when I'm having a bad enough depressive episode I feel real, physical pain in my chest that's so bad I can hardly stand up, and the accommodations that help me when my hEDS or POTs is making it hard to stand help when it's the depression instead. And yet I'm supposed to believe these two things are completely different, 100% of the time, no exceptions?? Plus like, idk every time I see people argue that mental conditions are somehow different from physical ones it just reminds me of how often doctors will brush aside the physical symptoms of my mental illnesses bcs they're "all in my head" despite how much I'm clearly suffering. For me so much of learning to live with stuff like my bipolar and adhd is unlearning the idea that my brain is like, a separate entity from my body, and accepting that the physical stuff I'm feeling shouldn't be dismissed just bcs it's caused by my brain and not like, my POTs or hEDS. For so often I've seen positivity posts talking about how mental conditions do physically affect people and understanding and accepting that is important, it's wild to see a group that should be on top of that sort of thing fumble it so badly.

And god, so much of the world is already against disabled people, getting mad that the "wrong" disabled people are using the term cripple punk while society does everything in its power to make life impossible for us feels like we're just doing their work for them. We should stand united in our very much shared struggle instead of desperately trying to shove everyone in separate boxes and make sure they stay there, insisting that we have nothing in common and could never share a community. We have everything in common and we need to stand together, now more than ever.

All of this! And also it’s clearly never occurred to them that a huge percentage of the medical gaslighting we’ve all experienced is having doctors blow off our physical disabilities and illnesses by claiming we’re mentally ill. Gee hmm I wonder why that is? Could it be that mental illnesses and disabilities are even more discriminated against than physical illnesses and disabilities? And if we all fight together for respect and rights for people with all types of disabilities and disorders we all benefit?

This shit is absolutely wild to me. And it leads to things like people yelling at me - an actual wheelchair user who is currently mostly bedbound - that I hate cripples and am somehow trying to “steal cripple privilege” and insert myself undeservingly into “cripple spaces” because I refuse to join them in their bigotry against mentally ill and mentally disabled people.

MERDs are to the Cripple Punk and disability rights movements what TERFs are to feminism and the queer rights movement. They’re dragging us back decades.

*MERD: mental-exclusionary radical disabled

#cripple punk #CripplePunk #CPunk #cpunk discourse #disability #actually disabled #MERDs #exclusionists

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beesmygod · 2 months

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old hunters DLC also highlights some themes of colonial violence and exploitation too, imo. what’s been done to the fishing village and kos ties the beast thing up with this idea that like, the impulse to Conquer and Dominate another leads directly to the Curse. It’s not enough to understand the old ones and the blood and all that, they needed to control it, to take it for themselves, and exploit it however they can. And now there’s wolfmans everywhere.

And this is in the core gameplay loop itself, we extract all the vials and blood echos and blood gems that we can in order to become strong enough to conquer more and more powerful prey. When we’re hit, we hit back harder and take back the life that was taken for us. Sure it’s ostensibly to Break the Curse and seek Paleblood and all that, but we know why we’re really doing it. Because it’s sick as hell, and feels awesome to best these monsters. The old hunters knew that too, and it turns them into giant horse creatures unable to do anything besides violence. That thirst for violence and power makes hunters turn into beasts, now only functioning as a cog in a perpetual violence machine. They lose their humanity not through repeated death like in Dark Souls, but through taking life. It turns the characters into monsters, and the players into wiki editors and lore theorists (aka monsters) bc we also can’t let go of the feeling Bloodborne gives us.

Tl;dr: Bloodborne is like if Spec Ops had any subtlety or desire to leave itself up to interpretation (probably helped by the fact that very little of what I’m talking about is likely intentional and I’m just insane)

OKAY im back from my appointment and finished my little treat. anon ("anon" @chicknparm who should get credit for these good thoughts) i could not agree more. i mentioned this in a previous post but finding a strand of commentary about the evils of colonialism made me worried i was becoming dangerously online, but it's a relief to see someone else mention this idea. i think you are absolutely right that one of the overt messages in bloodborne is that spilling blood for your own benefit leads to ruin. its actually kind of shocking how, in spite of the combat being the draw to these games, the message of most fromsoft games is a message of anti-violence. like, how many times do we end up fighting something that, in hindsight, needed to be put out of its misery. oh. shit. thinking about it, our player character is explicitly an outsider. the role of hunter of hunter is filled by outsiders...

also lol you are so right about the wiki based insanity but i think that's the consequences of insight poisoning. literally every once in a while while trying to edit this stupid bloodborne doc i think to myself "oooeergg too many eyes" and take a break for a few days

anyway, turning this back around to the colonialism theme, hear us out ok: watching/reading the sekiro lore videos/posts by shetani of shetani's lair helped introduce a lot of esoteric buddhist and shinto concepts that were totally novel and unknown to be as a baka gaijin. now these ideas are impossible not to see in all of from's other works.

i did a few days of research on "shinshi" (mostly a lot of stuff that turned out to not be relevant, but interesting) after becoming aware of them and found they shared a lot of qualities with the augurs (or "phantasms", invertebrates that act as intermediaries to the great ones) of bloodborne. realizing this, i thought about the great ones not in the context of a christian god, as the MODERN yharnam does, but as kami. kami are numerous, everywhere, hidden, and are thought of as actively controlling or influencing the terrestrial world. the re-translation reveals that the "great pthumeru chalice" had some nuance lost in translation: "祀る - Means to enshrine or worship, but has connotations of doing it to appease spirits so they may reach nirvana or Buddhahood and avoid becoming evil"; this is simply translated to "deify" which is technically correct but the original feels like it's much more pointed about finally revealing to the player that the "gods" as we've been lead to believe them to be are not what they seem.

the healing church, a product of georgian to victorian era western beliefs, razed pthumeru, loran, isz, and the fishing village (and probably yahar'gul too) in the quest to become like their newly discovered gods. the framework by which they related to pthumerian culture was completely wrong and misunderstood the nature of "gods" as all knowing or all powerful and, thus, something aspirational. the reality was more that they are just another type of creature in the world with different limitations than a human. and they're still mortal.

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rxgirlie · 4 months

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The Girl Next Door part VIII

Pairing: Jeryd Mencken x OFC

Warnings: dubious content, affairs, sexual content, age gap, my improper use of commas. MDNI

A/N: When I tell you guys this chapter was a labor of love, I fucking mean it. We’re almost at the end, my friends. If anyone can predict accurately how this is going to end, I will give you one (1) forehead kiss. As always, thanks to @runningwiththefoxes and @vivalafae for dealing with my neurotic ass.

WC: 4426

My delusions hit an all time high when I woke up plastered to his chest the next morning. My hair, like inky black tendrils, spilled across his neck and shoulders, the rest of my limbs fitted to his, melting so dangerously close together that it was hard to tell where I ended and he began.

His gruff voice pulled me to the present, vibrating my caged chest.

“Hold still.”

I only hummed in response, too sleepy and drunk off him, his scent, to come up with any verbalisation that would’ve made sense at that moment.

We zoomed at one singular pace then, his hands finding purchase clasped together at the small of back, as I dozed back off.

When I woke again, I had rolled to my side, the comforter pulled up to the pillows where he had once been.

Walking around someone else’s house scantily clad made me feel dirtier than anything else we had done up to that point. Not that I was modest, heaven knows modesty was a trait I’d try my hand at and fail over the course of my life, but my presence felt like I was tainting someone else’s memories the cottage contained.

I floated lightly in the kitchen, tiptoeing about as I put a kettle of water on to boil. Jeryd was nowhere to be found and I only assumed he was out for a run or taking in the morning air. My curiosity getting the better of me, I eased down the hallway, to the first door on the right, my fingertips grazing across the penciled in heights and their corresponding dates along the door's frame.

Cautiously, I opened the door, revealing two twin beds, their comforters checkered in identical blue and black plaid, against two opposite walls. A photo of two young boys sat atop the small nightstand separating the beds. Simultaneously the kettle’s whistle and a set of hands on my shoulders caused me to shriek.

“You’re a bad influence!” I turned around and eyed him intensely before swerving past to grab the kettle off the eye.

“Never have I ever felt so sneaky and slithery!” I called from the kitchen, hearing his footsteps draw nearer.

He appeared behind me within seconds, leaning against the counter as I filled two teacups with scalding hot water, turning around to look at him as the tea steeped.

“Tell me, will I always be the blame for all of this or will you open your eyes and see yourself as a willing participant?”

I scoffed, crossing my arms. “You’ve got me up here, half naked, making tea at daybreak, trying to figure out whose house I’m in.”

He mirrored my stance, closing his eyes with a deep sigh. “Okay, well, I didn’t ask you to make tea.”

He reached forward and grabbed the box containing the teabags, reading the back label with squinted eyes.

“This shit has probably been here since the sixties.”

“No,” I shook my head, “I snagged it from the store yesterday.”

“The sixties?” I questioned, “Whose house is this?”

He reached beside me, grabbing his respective cup of tea.

“My mother’s,” he stopped long enough to blow away steam and sipped carefully, “Do you want to see the deed for the house or do you believe me?”

I rolled my eyes at him.

“I believe you.”

“Shocking,” He commented sarcastically as he made his way over to sit at the breakfast nook.

“You fight in your sleep.” He commented, his voice still gruff and laced with sleep.

“I had to pin you close to me last night to keep from taking a right hook to the face.”

“And here I thought you just wanted to cuddle.” I laughed breathlessly as I snagged the chunky blanket from the arm of the couch and wrapped it around myself, making my way over to sit across from him.

“Hardly.” He eyed me over the rim of his teacup.

“What do we do after this?” I thrummed my fingertips across the tabletop. “When we get home... Surely a mission trip can’t last more than a few weeks.”

I slyly laid out a chance for him to come clean about his wife’s whereabouts.

“What are you going to do after Georgetown?” He asked, leaning back in his seat to eye me with the curious coolness he always undertook when regarding these subjects with me.

“I asked first.” I countered, sipping my tea confidently as I stood my ground.

“In terms of love, marriage, and a baby carriage?”

I shifted awkwardly in my seat, “Uh, not exactly what I meant for us.”

“Then what did you mean, Liv?”

“I have a soft spot for PR,” I watched as he stood up, grabbing his teacup, carrying it over to the sink, “but I think going the corporate route might be right for me, I don’t know.”

“Don’t deflect, Olive.” He chided, rinsing out his teacup, shaking his head at my poor attempt to cover my scent.

“I’m not,” I sighed, “I answered your question.”

“I answered your question last night.” He walked over, placing a firm finger over my lips before I could open my mouth to speak.

“Go get ready. Let’s have a good day, yeah?” He nodded down at me pleased with my obedience as I tucked my tail between my legs and made my way to the bathroom.

_________________________________________

I didn’t realize the extent of his hypocrisy back then, but it was, and still is, very much alive. Maybe that’s why I was so attracted to him; the hypocrite in me recognized the one in him. Or maybe it was the way we both compartmentalized any real feelings. No regard for his wife, my reputation, his reputation. I could choose when to feel my feelings, simply sliding them back on the shelf alongside my reservations, my nervousness, my general ability to know right from wrong, and everything else in between that kept me awake at night.

I sleepwalked through the museum he took me to, the only thought occupying my brain was the way he held my hand, coaxing me along through each exhibit.

When he finally spoke, I shook my head.

“What?”

“They preached traditional family values,” he motioned up to the photo of Jackie O and her young daughter swathed in JFK’s arms, “but he definitely had a wandering dick.”

“You’re not doing much to help your case.” I unlinked from his arm, reaching out to stroke a careful finger across the canvas.

“Well, I’m not, and never have been, the president of the United States.”

“And if you were?” I looked at him from over my shoulder, a playful smirk appearing on his lips.

“You ever heard of the Code of Hammurabi?”

I shoved him playfully, “Oh, shut the fuck up.”

The rest of the afternoon took on an airy feel. We lingered in downtown Hyannis before hopping back in his car, aimlessly driving until I suggested we visit Provincetown.

“We used to stay here every summer before my parents split.” I told him, eyes peeled to the window as I looked for any familiarity in the sites around us as the city unfurled itself.

“Funny,” he looked over at me, his right hand once again finding its usual spot, cradled against the meat of my thigh, “I used to spend every summer with my family in Hyannis.”

“Is the cottage a family place?”

“Well, sort of. No one has really used it since my dad kicked the bucket.”

I didn’t expect him to reveal that kind of information to me but I went with my first instinct, questioning, figuring he wouldn’t have given me that sliver of an inkling if he didn’t want to talk about it.

“When did he die?”

“I was sixteen, maybe? Heart attack on Christmas day.”

“Ouch,” I squeezed his hand, “that’s personal.”

“He was older.” He added, fingertips thrumming the dash and his thumb held closely to the wheel.

I nodded along, not really sure if treading lightly or shutting up altogether was the better option.

“He was from Brookline. My mom is from Medford. They would meet up in Hyannis to, ya know, rendezvous. Away from his wife.” He glanced over quickly, his brow sloping at the arch as he watched my face change at the realization.

I looked over at him, my eyes wide, “That’s scandalous, honestly, but I’m more worried about the bed we slept in.”

“Pretty sure the sheets have been washed in the last forty years, Olivia.” He squeezed my thigh reassuringly.

“Some stains never come clean, Jeryd.”

Ironically enough, I wasn’t sure if I was talking about the stain that blemished my soul by proving that the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree in his regard.

He smirked at me as he parallel parked on a side street.

We decided to hold off on eating until it cooled off, the June heat hitting its peak around the time we set off downtown, making us both amble in and out of the gift shops littering Commercial Street for any relief from its bleating rays.

“I could’ve spent the afternoon fucking you in the air conditioning, you know?” He grumbled as we walked back out into the heat.

I stopped, looking over at him, “Didn’t know that was an option.”

“Well, it was,” he grabbed my hand, pulling me closer to him, “but now we’re here.”

He eased behind me, hands on my hips, walking single file as a sea of tourists came our way.

“I could be right here,” he purred into my ear, his left hand snaking around my waist below my navel, applying pressure right at my pubic bone, “right where you like me.”

I looked around, sighing at the prospect of fucking him in the bathroom of a building that appeared to be painted with every color of the rainbow.

“How fucking old are we?” I asked as he dragged me inside the multi flavor shop, forgoing a response to the lady behind the counter as she waved and greeted us, her glazed over eyes following us with curiosity.

“Old enough to know better,” he flung the bathroom door open, slamming and locking it behind him as I backed myself up against the sink, “too stupid to care.”

It wasn’t long until he was fucking into me from behind, his hands grasped onto the porcelain basin as his nose found a place at the shell of my ear, occasionally rutting against the hair there.

Each time one of us glanced at the other in the mirror, we would laugh, each thrust distorting the sound amongst the sea of stickers, particularly ones that said Fuck The Patriarchy and God is a Woman, plastered along the neon tinged bathroom, the nineties track blasting loudly into the confined space.

If god was a woman, I figured, she wouldn’t be too mad at me for what I did. What I would do in the grand scheme of things.

Poetically enough, he pushed me to my knees, shoving himself into my eagerly waiting mouth. As his cock thickened and his whole body tensed, he pulled my head down to his root so he could come deeply down my throat.

A shrill knock on the door startled me and quickly scrambled to my feet, dragging my underwear ungraciously up my thighs.

“Uh, just a second!”

He clasped his belt and readjusted his shirt, reaching out to push my hair away from my face.

“Go and I’ll meet you out front.”

I nodded, cracking the door open enough so I could slide through the opening.

From behind, I didn’t immediately recognize her, but when she turned around, hands full of paraphernalia and niknaks, we both stood still, looking at one another in shock.

“Good god, Olivia, what are you doing here?!” She shoved her trinkets on an empty shelf by the bathroom door and pulled me into a hug.

“Hey, Kimmy,” I patted my step mother’s back whilst simultaneously feeling the blood drain from my face.

She pulled back to look at me, “Are you okay?”

I nodded profusely, reaching out to close the bathroom door as Jeryd tried to exit. The door unceremoniously bobbed open a few times, my hand applying more and more pressure against its spine as he tried the doorknob and I watched in absolute horror as Kimmy looked from me and over my shoulder as the door pounded on its frame.

“Had some bad oysters. You definitely do not want to go in there.” I lied, rubbing my stomach for a dramatic effect.

She nodded, eyes widening as she spoke, “Looks like they’re really putting up a fight.”

Once Jeryd really put his back into it, I went flying forward, the door creaking open as he walked out.

“Those aren’t bad looking oysters.” Kimmy commented, a smirk appearing on her face as she sized Jeryd up.

_________________________________________

Once Kimmy paid for her loot while I stood awkwardly to her side like a lost child, we followed her outside and down the block where my father sat unsuspectingly under a large parasol. Jeryd had tried and failed to walk the opposite way down the street, Kimmy giving us both a look as I pulled him back to me, knowing full well what had transpired in that bathroom, loving nothing more than to watch me sweat.

“Look who I found,” Kimmy announced as my father’s head swiveled around at the sound of her voice.

“Ollie!” He was on his feet in an instant, arms wrapping around me, lifting me off the ground momentarily.

“Hi,” I squeaked out, finding my footing as Jeryd shoved his hands deeply in his pockets. An unsettling smile pulled at his lips as he watched the scene unfold.

“What are you doing up here?” He asked and I looked over at Jeryd again like he was about to be my savior through the awkwardly crushing scene.

“Field trip,” I shrugged, “We broke off from some of the students to grab a bite to eat and ran into Kimmy.”

“Liv had bad oysters,” Kimmy added with a sympathetic nod, “She was absolutely dying in the bathroom when I knocked.”

Jeryd's eyes narrowed at me and I closed mine long enough to regain blood flow to my brain as it misfired along with Kimmy’s recounting of what happened.

“He’s a professor at Stony and I’ve been working with him. A bunch of us decided to, uh, come see Plymouth monument and hit the Kennedy museums.”

My father turned slightly, the heavy chair dragging across the pavement, and looked at Jeryd.

He stood, offering his hand, doing the awkward white male handshake that men of their age tend to default to.

That’s when it hit me. Seeing them together, how close in age they were, wondering how many daddy issues I had to have for this particular moment to happen to me. Was there a set amount, like a ticket token, to hit the fucked up jackpot that I seemed to have won in that very moment. If I could have shed my skin and slithered away, I very much would have.

“Why don’t you guys sit and eat with us?”

I looked at Jeryd for any sign of confirmation but he very much let me know, silently, of course, with a look, that I was in the lead here. When I sat down, he pulled a chair from the table beside ours and pushed it next to mine.

I heard my father explain something about an annual car show and if I spoke to my dad regularly, maybe I would’ve been able to avoid running into him altogether. Other than that, their words were muffled. My inner monologue bleating, debating on fleeing the scene altogether, I wished for nothing more than to be a man in that moment. Men don’t care when things are awkward, and from an outsider’s perspective, nothing was wrong at the table. But the way Kimmy looked at me, the way her eyes dragged along my face, I knew she would eventually want to know what exactly I was doing and who I was doing it with.

Somewhere between the constant droning about the weather, the political climate, and shared similarities, Jeryd and my father finally shut up. Their constant chatter had been filler for me, and I suddenly felt small when they all looked at me, waiting as if I was supposed to chime in.

“I think that dinner reservation is ready, Professor.”

Jeryd cleared his throat, “Right, of course, it was nice to meet you both.”

We both rose, him stepping back enough to give me space for goodbye embraces, listening to me make excuse after excuse as to why I hadn’t been to visit them.

“Make sure you stay away from those bad oysters, Liv.” Kimmy called out and I waved sheepishly back at her as Jeryd and I walked in the direction where he had parked the car.

_________________________________________

The ride back to the cottage was tense and quiet. He didn’t reach over to touch me, nor did he make any effort to speak to me.

“You looked like a little kid at the adult’s table back there,” he finally said to me when we were inside the cottage, staring silently at one another across the kitchen bar.

“What?” I shook my head, scoffing at him.

“You just,” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “you locked up. I’ve never seen you look so small.”

I shrugged, looking away from him in what I would describe now as hot, bubbling shame.

“I fucked up by bringing you here.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked into the living room.

“What was I supposed to do?!” I cried out, following him closely. “She saw us basically come out of the bathroom together.”

“You could have, I don’t know, let me walk away like I was trying to do.” He turned around and looked at me and for the first time, I saw him genuinely upset.

“But, no,” he continued, “you had to drag me right down with you, didn’t you?” He spat.

I laughed incredulously at him, all the while stepping closer and closer to where he stood. “Yeah, like you haven’t been dragging me to hell everyday since I’ve known you!”

He let out a shrill laugh, his canines showing, before leaning down closely into my face, “You know what this has always been about. You made your choice. You’re happy to take the perks that come with being my mistress. Don’t act like you’re some poor, innocent woman. You always knew exactly what this was, what we are.”

“Perks?! There are perks,” I let out a shaky laugh, “Please tell me what they are and where the fuck I can find them!”

He shook his head, walking over toward the window, maintaining a safe amount of distance from me.

“I swear to god, the only thing that would make you happy is if I slapped a collar and leash on you and led you around town all night.” He said with a groan.

“The only thing that would make me happy is if you weren’t such a lying hypocrite.” I stalked back towards the bedroom in a fury, grabbing my overnight bag, stuffing my strewn out contents wherever they would fit, dragging it to the bathroom to grab my toiletries and dirty clothes.

“What are you doing?” He appeared in the doorway, a look of discomfort and disdain painting his features at my very presence.

“Going home,” I brushed past him, making my way towards the living room.

“Like hell you are,” he jerked the bag I was holding, effectively pulling me back to him like a rubberband threatening to snap.

“Is this how you act every time your wife leaves?” I jerked the bag again but I was no match against his ironclad grip. “You do her like this?”

I watched as he unzipped the bag, dumped it upside down, the contents hitting the floor like broken glass at our feet.

“A fucking mission trip?” I laughed at him, “She fucking left you and it’s no goddamn wonder!”

He pressed me against the wall, his forearms resting on either side of my head as he seethed down at me. His jaw clenched and for a moment, I closed my eyes, gearing up for whatever he was about to unleash upon me.

“You let my mother fill your head with fucking delusions and get disappointed when I don’t meet your expectations.”

I shook my head, “I had expectations for someone I knew couldn’t meet those expectations, so that’s my fault for expecting anything from you at all.”

He moved away from me, allowing me to sidestep him, easing my way into the bedroom across the hall. When I locked the door, I heard him sigh, a heavy hand smacking against the door caused me to jump.

“I’ve never cried because of someone’s lack of feelings for me, you know? I’ve never had anyone to cry over in that regard. You’re the first, and you’ll also be the last, or so help me god through this embarrassment.” I yelled at the door, hearing him sigh again, footfalls growing more distant as he walked through the house and away from the scene.

Eventually I fell asleep in one of the twin beds, its stale sheets and comforter providing me with a false sense of comfort amongst the discord.

_________________________________________

I woke up on my side facing the wall. For the most part, I slept contentedly, only waking when I heard Jeryd messing with the door, the knob jingling erratically as he tried unsuccessfully to pick the lock. I thought about asking him to stop a few times, wondering why he even gave a solitary fuck about getting inside, but realized my silence was far more personal than any words I could mutter.

“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care, because I do. I fucking do, and that’s what makes this even worse.”

I jumped as he spoke from behind me, rolling over to see that he had crammed himself in the opposite twin bed, legs bent and arms crossed against his chest, his words making him grimace as if his own honesty was poisoning him.

“Don’t,” I shook my head, “it’s too late for a death row confession.”

“I just spent three hours breaking into this room to get to you.” He sat up and looked at me, head cocking to the side when I didn’t flinch at his declaration, “I thought about leaving you here last night, you know?

I rolled my eyes, sighing. “I wish you would have.”

“I made a shitty decision and you’re a testament to that matter, but you don’t get to decide my feelings for you.” He said, finally looking comfortable enough to continue, “I may not sail a thousand ships for you, but if I didn’t give a fuck, I wouldn’t have continued this past the first night.”

Somehow over the course of us staring at one another silently, gauging eachother’s temperaments, he made his way over to my respective bed, climbing in behind me, molding himself around my body.

I listened intently as he told me about his train wreck of a marriage, “I chose my wife because she provided stability and consistency and safety and kindness and support. We were not exactly madly in love when we married. Our marriage was based on a set of rational, mutually beneficial criteria and we’ve built it from there. I make no claim that it is a passionate, fiery love. But we do love each other,” his long term political goals, cackling shrilly when he told me he would be president one day and would take me to the White House with him.

“She will wise up and leave me in the next few years.” He said in regards to his wife.

It was stupid to indulge myself in his fantasy but it felt good.

He told me how he and his brother used to lay in the twin beds, cooking up ideas on how they could both be President at the same time. Jason, who I later learned was the other set of initials on the doorframe, gave up and decided on being a professional baseball player sometime after he turned fourteen, giving it up altogether to become a lawyer once most of his childish notions left him. But Jeryd, he clung to his dream, and I felt somewhat flattered that he decided to share it with me.

It was far-fetched, but so was the idea of us laying together, spinning our web of lies, content to fall even deeper without any regard for how hard the impact would be when we landed.

Eventually we both fell asleep with his aspirations in full force in the background.

_________________________________________

Leaving the cottage felt almost bittersweet. On one hand, I felt like I had survived a war, and on the other, I felt like we had made a breakthrough of sorts amongst the rubble we were leaving behind.

Before we left, though, he made it a point to back me up against the guestroom’s door frame, marking my height against the wood, my full adult height paling in comparison to the teenage boy’s marked far above.

“A little pointless, don’t you think?” I asked as I turned around and watched as he marked my initials above the new line.

“Nah,” he shook his head, “You’ll be back and we will see if you’ve grown any.”

I rolled my eyes, “Maybe they’ll turn this place into a museum once you’re president and I will forever be emblazoned into American history.”

He managed to crack a smile at me before carrying my bag out to the car.

The ride back to Stony Brook felt shorter than it had on the way to Hyannis. We stopped once for gas and another time so we could climb in the backseat and fuck once we both realized we had gone twenty four hours without touching one another and the prospect of reentering secretive society really took hold.

We made plans to run together the following morning as we said our goodbyes in the university’s parking lot. I took the long way home once I was back in my car, timing it perfectly as I watched his front door close as I pulled into my driveway.

Only this time, his car wasn’t the only car parked in his driveway.

Taglist: @aurorag98

#jeryd mencken x oc #jeryd mencken fic #jeryd mencken fanfiction #jeryd mencken x ofc #jeryd mencken x original female character #jeryd mencken #justin kirk

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ultimateunidino · 8 months

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now before I get into lore shit about this fuck I just gotta preface this.

Sariel lore applies by @muzzleroars fallen gabe Au and you can probably see a lot of inspiration from them in Sariels design and the other fallen angel ocs that are to come. (I've got another in the works but I'm trynna do get their fallen design completed)

THIS FUCK TOOK SEVERAL HOURS OF MY LIFE. I had to redesign his pre fall design (trust me the orginal looked like shit) and now that I'm so glad with how the redesign came out I wanna redesign his fallen design now. WHICH SUCKS.

Anyway lore and stuff below

Sariel before his fall was a high ranking virtue (like the highest rank a virtue can be before being an archangel). Sariel also was a highly skilled Archer, at one point being kinda the head of heavens archers.

This is the reason why the council decided that during the lust renousance that he would be one of the angels sent on a reconosanse mission just to see what was happening in hell at the moment.

During this trip he fell in love with a mortal women. Eventually though he did have to go back to heaven because the mission ended, but he'd still make special trips for them just to see them. Infact this affair lasted for a long while.

But eventually the council decided the lust renousance was to be ended. They appointed sariel to lead heavens archers but sariel refused. After a bit of prodding sariel eventually flat out protested ending the lust renousance. Which like pulling a loose thread on a sweater quickly lead to this affair being revealed.

But here's the neat part, when the council was about to inflicted his punishment instead of kneeling and accepting what was going to happen to him like most angels he did something different. He ran, he ran right out of heaven. (Which is considered a big nono!) It's considered cowardly not to accept defeat and specifically run from a fight or something like this. So if he wasn't in trouble before he's super fucked now.

So sariel ended up running to Hell. He went and found his love and then immediately told her to get the out of lust as fast as possible as heaven was going to burn the place to the ground any day now. This would be the last time he ever saw his mortal love again.

They hug and have a sweet moment before sariel rushes to try and get to where King Minos is to warn him of the impeding doom that is to come.

Unfortunately Sariel wasn't able to get to Minos Before heavens armies arrived. In the chaos Sariel ended up being caught and brought back before the council. Where he had his light ripped from him.

Now here's where Sariels story gets REAL interesting.

(but of a quality drop from the last one but eh)

Sariel some how managed to survive his fall and become a "fallen angel". Now since he ran instead of accepting his light being torn from him he wasn't treated with nearly as much respect as other fallen angels who get their own tombs. Sariel was left to rot where he lay. Only being dumped in the remains of lust.

Now here's the part where I answer the question on everyone's mind "why does fallen sariel look so human when he's a virtue?" Because it's his punishment.(I noticed that muzzleroars post about fallen angels didn't have a punishment for fallen lust angels but I kinda get why tbh so I had to come up with it myself)

Fallen angels of lust's punishment is to be forever trapped in the form they worshiped. Aka, trapped in their human disguise . Now to a human that doesn't seem that bad but that's since their human.

For an angel (especially less humanoid ones) it's highly uncomfortable to be in their human disguise for long periods of time. It's like wearing clothes several sizes to small. And now I wasn't able to convey this in the drawings but pre fall Sariel is taller then his human form by a couple feet minimum. Now from an outsiders pov there is no desernible difference from him being human. It also feels incredibly claustrophobic. I wanted to give Sariel a second pair of arms but I wasn't able to add it to the drawing.

But that's enough about his fall it's self let's get to what happens after.

So Sariel fell and is now in the middle of lust after it was decimated by heavens armies and now the corpse of king minos. At this point he's hopeless, he may have survived but to what?

Eventually he decides it would be better if he just descended into deeper into hell. On his adventures he started trying to build himself a replacement for his old armour which no longer fits him as it's designed to fit his much taller and more abstract body.

Although this had a surprising outcome. A pair of Street cleaners, being social creatures, noticed him one day going through junk to try and add to his armour. Well since he's an angel he's not techn biological. So they thought he was also a street cleaner. Just a heavily damaged one. They thought he couldn't beep and such because he was broken and that's why he didn't have aFlame thrower. And so Sariel completely defenceless in his human form was totally freaked out by these two machines.

But it ended up being like a wet stray cat being forcefully taken off the streets.

Eventually Sariel kinda ends up being the mechanic of the crew. He even ends up learning the language of beeps and boops the Street cleaners make although that took years.

They did eventually figure out he was an angel and not a fellow street cleaner but they all had known eachother for so long it did not matter.

This trio ends up going to wrath at one point (not sure why yet, probably blood).

But that leads to the next OC I've got lined up so no spoilers.

I'd also like to think at one point Sariel was by himself in heresy looking for machine parts probably singing to himself YMCA before he heard the distinct sound of one pissed off archangel, barely hiding in time. Only for Gabriel to like rage walk passed to get to the organ he was playing when he met V1 a second time.

He got the fuck out of dodge immediately after though.

That was also his closest encounter to any of the main four archangels in muzzleroars Au.

He had known of them maybe been in the same room as one of them but that was it.

#ultrakill gabriel #ultrakill #ultrakill fallen gabe au #muzzleroars fallen gabe?? idk what to tag this #muzzleroars fallen gabe #ultrakill oc

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le-trash-prince · 6 months

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Only Friends (But It’s a Jazz Musical)

Here is the 100% self-indulgent project that I have been working on since the series started! This began when I realized I was adding a lot of jazz songs to my regular OF playlist that didn't flow with the vibe of the other songs, so I separated them and realized how much they really worked on their own. I narrowed this down to a selection of ~40 tracks to just 11 to make it album-sized.

I think, despite the fact that these songs aren't modern at all, they fit the series really well. As musical theatre is wont to be, though, this would be very anachronistic—not tied to a particular place or point in time, and with a range of music genres utilized. It's the type of thing where producers would say "Who cares? It's Broadway!" while critics write scathing reviews on how musical theatre is the lowest form of art.

Mostly it's just meant for fun. 😊 Listen on YT

Tracklist + Scene Breakdown

I’m Gonna Live Till I Die

(YT / lyrics) The opening number. The scene at the bar where we meet the cast. I love the long opening vocal note to this song and can picture each of the four main friends standing under a solo spotlight as the music builds, until the beat drops and the curtain parts and the stage bursts into life. The instrumental break in the middle would be lengthened in order to give Mew a chance to introduce the cast to the audience.

Something’s Gotta Give

(YT / lyrics) This is the scene of Top hitting on Mew during trivia night. The irresistible force (haha) meets an immovable object. The line "something's gotta give, something's gotta give, something's gotta give" would easily be a recurring leitmotif sung by the chorus ensemble in the background of some of TopMew's tense moments and arguments.

You Go to My Head

(YT / lyrics) This is the SandRay theme of the show. Ray starts off singing this to Sand when they're at Ray's house that first time. The direct comparison to alcohol shows that Sand is Ray's new fixation. An instrumental variation of this would play during most of their scenes, with a refrain sung by Sand later in the show ("Still I say to myself, get ahold of yourself")

I Put a Spell on You

(YT / lyrics) Nick sings this while Boston seduces Top—through dance of course. This number is about both Boston coercing Top ("I put a spell on you") and Nick’s possessiveness over Boston ("because you're mine").

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

(YT / lyrics) Mew sings this about Top's betrayal. This was about how blind he was at the beginning, and the song culminates in Mew setting Top's drawing on fire.

I’ll Be Glad When You’re Dead (You Rascal You)

(YT / lyrics) Both of the pool fights are combined in this scene, Mew going after Boston and Ray going after Top. It’s a little physically comical with lots of people chasing each other back and forth across the stage, but Mew and Ray are absolutely out for blood.

If I Didn’t Care

(YT / lyrics) Sand is singing this onstage at club YOLO while all the boys try to process their unresolved feelings for each other. Lots of longing glances and loaded looks across the room.

I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire

(YT / lyrics) This is Boeing's "I'm too hot for you to blame me for the chaos I bring and I'm going to set Top's life on fire" song. I absolutely envision this as a casual tap dance number, and he does the entire thing with his hands in his pockets and a shit-eating grin on his face.

If That Ain't Love

(YT / lyrics) This one is on Sand's shuffle playlist in Ep 12, but I thought it really fit for a Boston solo! And I wasn't gonna not include the only jazz vocal playlist in the series. This is Boston trying to convince Nick that he loves him, even though Boston has no experience with romantic love.

You Always Hurt the One You Love

(YT / lyrics) All of the boys are singing this song. Hurt people hurt people. Top, Ray, and Boston are singing together on one side of the stage, with Mew, Sand, and Nick on the other, with all three pairs meeting in the middle and clasping hands at the end. (circa ep 10/11)

My Way

(YT / lyrics) This is the closing number and a duet between Mew and Boston on their final meeting. For a musical theater adaptation, compared to the original series, there's going to be more of a bang than a whimper at the end of this friendship, with both of them standing proud about who they are, faults and all. People were hurt, crimes were committed, questions remained unanswered, but Only Friends did it in a way no one else has.

I hope y'all can give this a listen because I really enjoyed working on it. Doing a more theme-specific playlist was new for me, since I usually just throw anything and everything into my playlists, so I'd definitely like to try something similar with another fandom in the future. I hope y’all enjoy 😊

#only friends the series #only friends #only friends series #ofts #ofts playlist #only friends playlist #bostonnick #sandray #topmew #music #long post #fanmix #my stuff

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pseudonymphomania · 11 months

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This is the first time I've made something for my own MC. "Dear Love" refers to my IRL partner, whom I pretend to write to about my adventures in the Devildom.

I play the game as everyone's platonic friend. I am asexual and enjoy Queer Platonic Relationships for myself. I also play matchmaker in my own Devildom universe.

My attributes: average height. Black hair styled with a medium hold matte pomade. Brown eyes. Beauty mark under my nose. Dimple on one side of my face.

Clothing: Prefer formal wear over casual. Suspenders over belts. Monochromatic colours or loud ostentatious patterns, no in-between. Comfy dress shoes in black or brown but open to other colours to match outfits; I'm wearing leather monkstrap shoes in the picture. Metal accents like tie clips are crucial. Got laser eye surgery but sometimes wears fake glasses to feel something on my face. Satchel contains good pens, quality paper, and workstation. Fitbit on my wrist to count every step I take to solve the problems of the day.

Personality: wry and dry humour. Workaholic. Lifelong learner. The Parent Friend. Always happy to help. Frontline tendencies.

Skills: technical writing, sewing and clothing construction, trades and mechanics, hair cutting, musician (piano and guitar), singer and actor (theatre), novelist, artist

Likes: obtaining new skills and making new friends. Justice. Equity.

Dislikes: misunderstandings, situations that could have been handled effectively but weren't. Unclear communication.

Occupation before I got Isekai'd: Director of Operations

Character I relate to the most: Lucifer

Character I would date if I was inclined: Diavolo, because he reminds me of my actual partner.

The reason I ship DiaLuci so hard: I love my partner the most and this is a mirror to that, right down to situations and actual conversations we have had in real life. The narrative potential. Other reasons.

My MC and OM Characters in my Devildom:

Lucifer: would smugly tell me that I've used a comma splice and I'd tell him to "shove a semi-colon in it". He's my bestest friend in the entire Devildom. We go to cafes and bookstores and go shopping for office supplies. I tell him to stop working so hard and he stares at me like "You're the one telling me this? The audacity." I needle him about his crush and he tells me to fuck off but his face is red.

Mammon: my other bestie but in a wildly different way. He brings out the shit-disturber in me. We play billiards together and play for treats. I disapprove of his gambling but am all-in on the shopping. He takes me out to all the best food places. "Try this, Beckett, you'll really love it." Meanwhile it's some sort of Devildom Atrocity, but somehow it's still good.

Levi: my nerd friend. I bring him offerings and leave them outside his door. We play games often with Mammon and I kick their butts at fighting games, but get wrecked when I have to make choices. We stay up hellishly late and I wake up with chocolate on my face. "Lets do this again: ive got the hottest new dating sim to try!" We are both groggy and destroyed and i have to go to work, but I agree to come back tonight.

Asmo: my favourite boy toy. He's stylish as hell and knows what looks good on anybody. Hes my personal stylist. I cut his hair in exchange. Just like with Mammon I go shopping with Asmo, except he knows all the good places for clothing and knows where all the thrift stores are. "It doesnt have to be new and expensive to look good honey!" I agree. I cuddle with Asmo the most because he loves touch.

Satan: my boy thirsts for knowledge and I do too. We skill-trade and fan over cats. Unfortunately I'm very allergic, but I appreciate them from afar and draw cats for him to hang in his book-filled room. "Do you want to come to the cat Cafe with me?" Oh Satan. He's his father's son alright, but he's just as much of a shit disturber as Mammon. He teaches me fun curses to use on people but I'm content with just knowing it.

Beel: when I'm tired Beel carries me back home and talks about the science behind calories and energy retention in relation to demonic body types. He enjoys cooking and I love testing recipes on him, but I have to swat him away from eating it before it's done. We do exercises together and buff up together. "I can almost see your six pack, haha".

Belphie: he's my sleepy boy. He can be irrational sometimes but I put a blanket over his head to shake him out of it and he snuggles closer. I play him songs on piano and guitar and sing him to sleep, but then I also end up quite sleepy. He's like a son to me and I lecture him often. I try to keep him and Satan from screwing with Lucifer too much. I'm a double agent in the anti Lucifer league lol

Diavolo: i enjoy it when he regales me with Devildom laws, traditions and customs. He speaks of how the executive branch and legislative branch operates in the context of his kingdom and I suggest to strengthen certain areas of his constitution to bring his vision of equity and interrealm relations to the forefront. I am also a shit disturber and needle him about his crush. "You are asking beyond your means, Beckett. Forgive me if I don't answer." Hm... yes, of course. Sorry.

Barbatos: I learn how to be the most efficient I can be from someone who is the most efficient. He is skilled in everything and I must learn from the best. I'm his best student and I'm a teachers pet so i love to hear it. He's been and seen everything and he is an excellent linguist. He is poetry personified in the every day. "Don't let Solomon ruin you too much." I won't!

Solomon: I use my knowledge of mechanics and trades and recontextualise it to be an artificier and create magical items. He is also one to bring out the shit disturber in me and I have almost become Thirteen just from the incidentally nonsense stuff I make. "Oh that's an interesting effect. I wonder what will happen if I give this to Barbatos". Solomon, dude. Do you want to get murdered. Is that what you're into.

Simeon: he is my sweetest and chillest boy. My bestie to talk about justice and relationality with. When I'm insecure and feel like people don't like me as much as they do, he reassures me and tells me stories of his own relationships. "There is nothing wrong with stepping back. Once you've regained your sense of self, you'll be able to pursue the path of friendship again and people will be ready to receive you."

Luke: he is like my son. I make sure he doesn't get nightmares because he seems to have a hard time acclimating to his demonic environment. He teaches me how to bake so that I can make some cakes that look like real inanimate objects and eat them in front of people, to their shock.

Mephisto: I am like Lucifer 2.0. He doesn't really like me but I have no hard feelings toward him.

Thirteen: my Bae. She's a delight but I have to make sure her shenanigans don't cause too much damage in the area or accidentally kill me. I would date her after Diavolo if I was inclined to do that.

I hope you enjoyed seeing my experience and interpretation of the game from my point of view. Everyone's MC journey is very personal to them and I do not believe there is a wrong way to enjoy the game. Thank you for reading. :)

#obey me dialuci #dialuci #obey me male mc #obey me main character #obey me shall we date #otome asexual #Obey me asexual player

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jennyandvastraflint · 4 months

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Xena Reactions S2Ep2

A RIVERRRR

"After all, it's a family thing" Gabrielle is her familyyy

GABRIELLE RIDES CLINGING TO XENAAA

the maiden, the mother, and the crone

"Xena, it's not your fault" T_T

She kebab'd that guy

I know you, you're Xena yes we all know Xena my guy

UHOH. Does she know him? Yeah it is harder when you look at their dead faces, not hidden behind masks

THE THREE FACES OF FATE

"Spill but a drop of blood and it all changes back"

"As a warrior, you can't."

Oh shit. EVERYTHING changed back, from the beginning. From back before she lost him. But she lost Gabrielle now...

She looks so DOMESTIC

Awww, she appyyy

Uuuuhhh.... NOPE DID NOT WANT TO SEE THAT

Ooooh, this is a Name of the Doctor situation where every one of Xena's victories never happened. So instead, a ton of people she would've helped are suffering...

Who...? I don't know this guy

OH HER MUM IS DEAD :c

"I never meant for this to happen. I just wanted that boy's life back."

"The hardest part is losing you and Gabrielle." AAAAAA I AM NOT CRYING YOU ARE

The world is very much nOT a better place without Xena to protect it

Ooooh, they realise something's going on...

Oh no, soldiers being shitteyy

"Good thinking" she's trying to do it peacefully.

GABRIELLE

Xena is SHOOKETH

She seems very uncomfortable...

"Gabri-" AAAAA

"You've gotta go along to get along. That's how the world works."

Argh, this hurts...

AHAHAHA SHE MADE THE DOG LICK THE BREAD

She getting information about when they leave

NOOO THE AMAZONS DEAD OR ENSLAVED...

"It's not your fault the world's the way it is" hhhhhhmmmm...

She hid in hayyy

Sdjdhd a bag of wine

She'll try to get Gabrielle out isn't she

"Yeah I remember. You tried to buy me." OUCH

NOOOOO

I'm trying so hard not to make a comparison to Planetoid 50 audio... Because it's killing Xena that Gabrielle isn't like she knows her

Oh she's fighting without blood...

SHE GOT GABRIELLE OUTTTT <3

"You're right though, there's a reason I'm doing this. You remind me of my friend." AAAA

"The purest, the kindest person I've ever known."

*cough* "Break this enchantment, my love, and remember." *cough*

GABRIELLE MY BABYGIRL I LOVE U SO MUCH 😭😭😭

FUCK THIS GUY. EW. DISGUSTING. I HATE THIS SHITHEAD.

Now they're all locked up :(((

Xena don't you see you're losing everything

"I'd rather die fighting these bastards than live with myself if I don't" ough...

GABRIELLE IS CRYING NOOOO 😭

"If it wasn't for you I'd have never been free again"

"You gave me hope" GABRIELLE SHE LOVES YOU AND YOU LOVE HER

Did whatshisface sneak in to free them. Yes.

YAYYY FREE GABRIELLE and the brother

Maybe these two bois should kiss

Oop the brother runs to be a hero... He's gonna die either way.

I'm guessing her brother will be mortally injured, she draws a small cut later, and everything reverts.

"Where are your table manners" KICK

If she made someone's nose bleed

HOLY SHIT GABRIELLE STABBED HIM

SHE'S BACKKKK, And she saved the boy

It's her brother's token

AAWWWW SHE HOLDS HERRRRRR 🥺

They're so cute 💕🥰

#v watches xena #xena warrior princess #xena and gabrielle

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klugenjoyer · 5 months

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thjoughts on clive. love from clive

Long post inkoming

Omd guys it's my twin?!? Anyways oh boy I h-h-HATE that guy... He's so 🤢🤢🤢UGGLY and B-BAD😡😡😡

Okay but in all seriousness bro I adore him more then y'all could know. Well uh ppl who follow this hmmm mysterious anon who I definitely don't know now know what the degree of Clive brain rot I have (can't mention it here but if you know you know). But like

I knew Clive would get me as soon as I found out who he was. So for context, Luke is the reason I started playing the PL series. Anyone who knows me personally would know how me bait Luke is, I am VERY predictable. So when I learned there was this guy who had the grand plan of pretending to be Luke from the future to infiltrate Layton's life I was like oooo boy (also yes I unfortunately didn't get to go into UF blind) . What rlly marked my Clive journey's real start was definitely learning his name. Clive Dove. I got the spoiler of bruvs name from when my dear mutual reblogged q picture of him with the Clive Dove tag on it and I was like "bro... HIS NAME IS CLIVE?!?!?!?". Then the devolvation into madness really started. Uh insert discord screenshots

When it comes to head cannons though I will definitely say we all know Clive is trans fr. When it comes to my specific trans HCs for them I really enjoy transfem Clive (its a comfort hc 4 me) but when I'm doing stuff like officially like my official HCs that I stick closer too transmasc Clive. Why? Layton parallels. My whole life is fighting to make as many parallels between the two as I can mate it's a problem. It's just too interesting to me.

Other HC wise uhhh CLIVE HAS FRECKLES FIGHT ME I love planting subtle inconsistencies between him and Luke sm.

When it comes to drawing Clive I will definitely say I do enjoy drawing him more than Luke namely due to him having a tie😱😱.

My biggest struggle in drawing him prolly uhhh the freckles I curse myself with along with just his color palette ig. I can never decide how dark I want his hair to be. But tbf I do just have inconsistent coloring in my art sooo what can you do.

Other stuff to talk about with this awful man.... OH RIGHT! I'm STILL not over him being British Yuri Lowenthal like bro💀. It's so bad randall is also British Yuri Lowenthal like stawppp💀. Anyone who knows about me and my interests knows that I have a trying relationship with Yuri Lowenthal. Clive atp is prolly my fav Yuri Lowenthal character but I don't think he can take up the og for my fave yuri lowenthal voice performance (I LOVE YOSUKE!!!!)

If I'd have to pick like my favorite Clive thing... Probably still Sallufix's 'This Hurts' animation holy shit that thing is so good. The fact that tumblr user sallufix is my mutual still baffles me I am so in love with and enchanted by their work like hold shit they are like... The Clive drawer of all time to me. Also uh he made Envicto and I am obsessed with that man to no end no one even knows.

Anyways funny pictures to leave this post off with

This first one is my fave, it's my banner on my alt I still haven't used yet 🤎

Secondly we have this screen shot of someone saying "why would Goro Akechi lie" which I replaced with Clive dove (the I get in ubers and start lying one was also originally Akechi). May I note I'm surprised but also glad that I don't see many Clive Akechi parallel truthers

And finally the picture that I made to match with my friend the other night because we thought it was funny idk

#clive dove #okay long post over god i nwed a break #gonna have to get onto the doodle asks now

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codenamehazard · 4 months

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.:In The Dark of the Night: Part 2:.

[TRIGGER WARNING FOR ARACHNOPHOBIA, OMMETAPHOBIA, TRYPOPHOBIA AND OTHER CREEPY CRAWLIES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!]

Chapter 25: In The Dark of the Night: Part 2

Hey guys, I hope you all had a Happy New Year and I hope I didn't make you all wait too long on a cliffhanger. Things got a little insane between the holidays and life things turning everything upside down for a little bit, but the wait is over and the helicopter has come to free you from the cliffhanger.

Without delay, let's jump in.

------------

Panic… Pure panic and pandemonium breaks out as Pangolin falls: screaming, writhing and powerless. A cold sweat mixes with the sparking rain-water on my skin as I see what a single sting did to the Brick Spartan. He’s defenseless to the oncoming swarm.

In his fear, Dove calls forth a massive wind gust to blow the menaces back, protecting his eldest brother from being eaten. Mako rushes over to help the fallen leader as Kestrel fights off more bugs. I can see Dove trying to take the lead, but with how freaked out he is and the fear making his voice crack and squeak, his commands fall upon deaf ears.

Time seems to slow as I watch the once well-oil machine fall to shambles. With Pangolin on the ground howling in pure agony and mutant hellish bedbugs scattering around, the team had no rudder. They were all clueless and damn near helpless.

As I thin the swarm, thoughts rush through my head. A headless team is a dead team. I remember the promise I made to myself as I ran from the army I had once led. Never again would I let shackles hold me back, including the shackles of leadership. If they can’t hack it without my help, then so be it. I could bail and leave them to their fate. Steal a jeep and let them be the distraction. Easy as that.

Then the logical part of my brain kicks that impulse sharply in the head. The Amp is still in shambles and needs to be fixed and the one who’s willing to do that is part of this team. There’s also the fact that… As much as I hate to admit this… I’m starting to grow quite fond of this motley crew of outcasts and it wouldn’t kill me to help them just this–

“ALRIGHT FUCKERS, LISTEN UP!!!” I turn my head sharply as a cross between a metallic boom and a barking command cuts through my thoughts, drawing my eyes to the source of the sound: Kestrel. “The situation’s gone FUBAR, fall back! Mako, get Pangolin into the Medi-Trailer! Dove, get a grip and head to the lead HEMTT, we need to book it and fast!!” I can’t help but to gawk for a split second, both in shock and relief. Well I’ll be damned; for once in my life I don’t have to play babysitter when things went to shit.

I shake my head to get back in the game before I get stung. Kestrel takes charge, getting Mako to focus on Pangolin as she clears a path. I make my way towards the panicking chicken of a Dove who’s still acting like he’s trying to take command, even though Kes gave him his marching orders. With how out of it he is, I’m not surprised he didn’t hear a word she said.

“Dove!” I boom as I grab his shoulders and shake him. Not the best way to handle a kid freaking out, but there’s no time for sensitivities. “Pull yourself together!” The bird stammers nonsense and I bonk him on the forehead with the meat of my palm. He yelps before staring at me with a look that said “what was that for?!” I look him in the eyes. “Good, now that I got your attention. Kestrel gave an order, get to the HEMTT and get ready to floor it. We’re falling back!”

“What about Thom-” He starts to question before I give him a red-eyed glare.

“Don’t worry about him!” I growl, my impatience starting to bleed through. “Mako’s got him covered, now do as you’re told and MOVE YOUR ASS!!!” I watch him stammer out an affirmative before scrambling off to the Convoy. I’m half tempted to give him a zap for good measure, but with the rain and the fact he’s the get-away, I decide against it.

The sound of grunting catches my ears as I turn to see Mako and Kestrel trying to move Pangolin while fending off the scittering hellish things. I quickly run over so I can help Mako.

“You taking over?” Kes questions, I nod in confirmation before we trade places. Oh Jesus Christ, he’s heavy and it doesn’t help he’s still flailing about. Thinking fast, I arc-restrain the writhing spartan. Mako gives me a questioning look, but when I explain it’s to make it easier to carry the giant of a man, she doesn’t argue. Kes provides cover fire before throwing what looks like a blast-shard wired to an explosive away from the convoy.

The shard seems to draw the attention of the giant Hell-Spider, getting her off the trailers and allowing us to get in safely. The sound of an explosion and screaming ring out as we shut the door.

As Mako gets Pangolin stabilized in a transport cot and I release the restraints, Kes gets on the comms and barks a single phrase.

“FLOOR IT!!!”

I can feel the trailer suddenly jerk as the HEMTT takes off, nearly taking all of us to the floor. The screech of the spider returns as she takes notice and gives chase.

The trailer rings out with the sounds of Warped and hellbabies being chucked onto the runaway caravan. A stark reminder that we’re not out of the woods yet. A Blink Scorpion almost slips in, but Kes is quick on the draw.

It's clear that without someone on the outside, the Convoy’s defenseless. With nothing but a quick glance and a nod exchanged between Kestrel and I, we know what needs to be done.

Though the emergency hatch on the top of the trailer, we climb out into the darkness to face the monsters.

The rain hisses and spits into steam on Kestrel’s skin as it makes black and red sparks arc off of mine. Bathing the hellish sight in a blood red hue. The scorpions scitter and screech as they charge towards us. Quick to react, we pop the bugs with slag and bolts, slashing them with blades and claws when they get too close.

As the air fills with soot, sparks and gore, I can see out of the corner of my eye something I hadn’t noticed before when the most that Big Momma would move was when she swung her stony arms around to swat at people who came near. Something that’s now plain as day with her running at ridiculous speeds for a creature her size.

Gaps in the armor where the joints connect.

“Hey Kes!” I call out as I punt one of the stinging cockroaches into another. “Check it! The big bitch actually does have weak spots!” I fire a missile at one of the knee-joints to point it out. The impact on the sinewy flesh causes the monster to scream in pain and slow down some, but with seven more legs moving, the hit only staggered.

“Good eye!” The Gunsmith calls back as she starts to focus fire on the exposed targets. We work together, but with the sheer number of babies the spider-bitch is spitting out, it’s near impossible to do both. These babies have got to go.

“Damnit!” I hiss out as I narrowly avoid getting tagged in the ankle. “There’s too many of these things!”

“No shit, Sherlock!” Kes snips back as she nails one that was leaping towards my head. “This is getting us nowhere and we don’t have the right equipment to kill the mother monster.”

“Got any bright ideas, birdie?” I growl. I see Kestrel look at the Rock-Spider-Thing and I can see the gears turning in her head.

“I might.” She replies. “One of us pops a charge while the other coverfires. It won’t kill her, but it should slow her down and thin out the herd enough to break free.”

“It’s a start, but who’s doing what?” I question. “Because if you haven’t noticed, my powers are as useful as a damn ashtray on a motorcycle against that thing.” I hear Kestrel groan before I pop a bug near her foot.

“I don’t know if mine will be of any use either, but I’ll do it. Cover my ass!” She shouts as she starts to shake her head, eyes glowing iron-hot. Probably trying to fire herself up. I position myself behind her, but give her space so I’m not touching her back.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” I grunt as I launch a few shockwaves to send the horde flying.

The sound of rain sizzling off of her body cuts through the chaos as her body throws off heat, causing the air around her to ripple and warp into the familiar heat mirage. Thank God I gave her the space, I would have gotten burnt from the rapidly rising temperature of her body. Steam hisses and spits off of her skin as smoke bellows from her mouth and jets from her nose.

I watch as I keep the bugs off of her. The shimmering particulates in the smoke start to move and gather, merging to become an entire swarm of shards the size of razor sharp, white-hot hornets. Kestrel’s arms move back into an open position before swinging them forward, commanding the shards to fly off towards the enemy.

The shards almost seem to buzz as they cut through the air, burying into anything that’s in their way. The metal is hot enough to make the blink scorpions pop like ichor-filled balloons and cook the shamblers and runners that tried to climb up.

The metal-bees couldn’t penetrate the rock armor of the Momma Bitch, but to our relief, some of them hit their marks and bore into the exposed joints. The living boulder screams in agony as its joints seizes from the onslaught, causing it to stagger and tumble from the momentum. Anything unlucky enough to be under-foot gets turned into a glowing purple paste on the red dirt as HEMTT leaves the bastards in the dust.

“Take that, bitch.” The Gunsmith pants out with a snarl and a smirk before her eyes cool and her body starts to wobble. I move to catch her so she doesn’t fall off the HEMTT. Damn, the combination of expending a large burst of RFE and the rain rapidly cooling her must be sapping her strength like mad.

“Hey…” She pants out. “Thanks for the catch.” I grunt in acknowledgement as I let her use my body as a support. We watch the monster-mash of a road wreck grow smaller and smaller as we escape. Out of the corner of my eyes I can spot light starting to grow.

Turning my head to see the source of the light, I gawk at the sight that is rapidly approaching.

Bright spotlights, all forming a barrier that burned and scorched any Warped that dare stray too close. Within the safety of the perimeter lies a city that looked like the fucking carnival took it over. Rides made of metal and scrap tower like skyscrapers and roller coasters snake through any buildings in maddening twists and turns. The crowning jewel of the sight? A large red and yellow striped tent with three prominent points, the center its tallest.

I turn to Kestrel and I see her face relax into a smile, the smile of someone coming home.

“Cole, welcome to Tri-Point.”

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