#uh just captivated by this moment that's all don't mind this post

[csswingandeasy]

#uh just captivated by this moment that's all don't mind this post #*fish noise* #tobias menzies #the terror #the terror amc #gifs

[joelmillerisapunk]

Girl Next Door

Neighbor!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 3,646

Summary: Joel finds himself overwhelmed by the desire to possess something that belongs to you, leading him to indulge in a secret fantasy.

~Or~

What Odette dreams about

Warnings: 18+, mentions of Tommy being in jail, underwear/ underwear sniffing kink? Unprotected bathroom bar sex, hair pulling, no physical description of reader minus hair being pullable, oral - m!receiving

Notes: NERVOUS AS ALL HECK TO POST THIS AS MY FIRST FIC IN A MINUTE. didn't know I had this kink until I had a similar dream, so don't look at me, but also, if anyone else likes this, please let's talk so I don't feel weird 😂 thanks as always @saradika-graphics for the divider

Joel is restless as he mindlessly tosses his clothes into the washing machine in the shared laundry room of his apartment complex. He can't stop thinking about the woman he saw moving in across the hall. There's just something about her that captivated him, and he can't shake her from his mind.

As he goes to add the detergent to the machine, he notices a basket of laundry sitting next to his. His eyes scan over the pile of clothes until they land on a pair of lacy panties. A thrill run through him as he realises that they were hers - yours.

The ones he saw when he was watching you move boxes, the ones he watched appear when you bent over and your shirt exposed the small of your back.

And before he can talk himself out of it, he quickly grabs the panties, stuffing them into his pocket. He turns around just in time to see you walking into the laundry room.

"Oh, hey there," you say with a friendly smile. "I didn't realize anyone else was using the machines right now."

Joel feels his face flush with embarrassment as he stutters out a response. "Uh, yeah, was just finishin' up."

You chuckle softly. "Well, don't let me interrupt you. I just need to switch my load over to the dryer."

As you bend down to transfer your clothes, Joel can't help but steal a glance at your body. He feels a stirring in his pants, and he quickly looks away, hoping you don't notice.

When you straighten up, you catch him looking and raise an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

Joel feels his face grow even hotter. "Uh, yeah, sorry. I just got a little distracted."

You smile knowingly. "Well, I hope it was a good distraction.”

You make small talk as you wait for your laundry to finish, and Joel finds himself even more drawn to you.

As you’re about to leave, you turn to him. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what is it darlin?"

"Well, I seem to have misplaced a pair of my favorite underwear. I was wondering if you might have seen them around here?"

Joel's mind races as he tries to think of a response. He can't very well admit that he had taken them, could he?

"Uh, no, I haven't seen them," he stammers, hoping you don't notice the lie.

You look disappointed. "Oh, well, thanks anyway. I guess I'll just have to buy a new pair." And with that, you're gone. Shortly after, he gathers his things and leaves.

As soon as he’s outside the room, Joel lets out a sigh of relief. The adrenaline rush from stealing your underwear sends shivers down his spine. He can’t believe how easy that was. This is definitely the highest he's ever felt.

But as he walks away, a wave of guilt washes over him. What kind of sick fuck gets off on stealing women's underwear? He knows how wrong it is, but damn if it doesn't turn him on like nothing else ever could.

He walks aimlessly for a while, trying to distract himself from the thoughts in his head. But every time he thinks about those lacy panties clinging to his thigh, he feels his cock throb.

He needs to do something with them. He needs to feel them against his skin, to smell them, to touch them. But what? Should he hide them away in a drawer? Or should he just keep them nearby for whenever the urge struck?

Joel hesitates for a moment before finally making up his mind.

As he walks back into his apartment, he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to feel those panties on his body. The idea of feeling your softness against his skin makes his cock throb even harder.

Joel decides to try and sleep it off. Maybe by morning, the urge would pass, and he would be able to put this whole thing behind him.

He walks toward his bedroom and strips off his clothes before he climbs into bed. But try as he might, sleep eludes him. The urge to grab those panties and explore them with his tongue is too strong to ignore. He continues to shift restlessly in bed until finally giving in to temptation. He reaches down grabbing the soft fabric from his jeans wrapping one hand around his hard cock and using the other hand to bring the fabric up to his nose and inhales deeply.

Joel's hand moves up and down his shaft, stroking with a rhythm that he knows will bring him to climax in no time. He focuses on the sensation of his own hand, the softness of you on the lace, letting out a low moan as he feels himself getting closer to the edge.

But then, just as he's about to come, Joel hesitates. What if you found out? The thought makes him pause, making him wonder if it’s worth the risk. He decides to take a break for now. Throwing the panties to the floor, he lays there for a few moments, trying to catch his breath. But then he can't resist. The urge takes over slowly and then, all at once, crashing over him like a tidal wave about to suffocate him. Joel picks up the panties one more time and brings them close to his face, inhaling deeply.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath as he licks them slowly, savoring their scent. He runs his tongue over every inch of fabric before finally taking them into his mouth, sucking on them hungrily. "You taste so sweet baby."

He stops to hold the panties in front of his face, admiring their form, admiring the cut and color. He imagines how it would taste if he were to lick your pretty lips and your pretty little clit, imagining how it would taste when he slips his fingers inside you as you’re making a mess all over his face. It almost makes him come right then.

He moans softly as he imagines all the things he would be doing to you once he gets you alone. How you would feel wrapped around his cock, moaning as he pushes into you. His eyes light up as he envisions how you would feel, naked against him, begging and whimpering as he fucks you. He knows the perfect way to drive you insane; torturing you for pleasure before finally plunging into you, making you scream his name, begging daddy for his big cock. He pictures you writhing and crying underneath him as his seed spills all over your soft skin, filling the air with the musky scent of sex.

His fantasy is interrupted, however, as his phone rings, shattering the illusion of the forbidden paradise his imagination created. Joel groans in frustration, reluctantly answering it.

"Ya?" He demands, his voice rough with need and lust, not bothering to ask who it is.

"Hey, big brother. It's me." it was Tommy, and Joel could only guess what this was about. Tommy had seen himself in jail, his fair share these past few years, and Joel was tired of bailing him out.

"Tommy, I swear to god -" Joel starts, ready cuss out his brother and give him the old "I'm gonna kick your ass..." spiel, but Tommy cuts him off.

"I know what you're gonna say. You're gonna kick my ass. But it wasn't my fault this time. The guy had it comin. He was gonna hurt her. I was just tryin' to help. You gotta respect that, Mr. Southern gentleman himself." Tommy says, sounding sincere enough for Joel to believe him. He relaxes slightly. Tommy never did anything particularly bad, but he always manages to get himself in trouble somehow. Even as kids, he was always bailing Tommy out.

Joel rolls his eyes. “That's what you said the last time. I'm gonna kick your damn ass Tommy. I should leave ya in there."

"Alright, alright, look man-"

"What? Make it good, or I'm goin’ back to bed." Joel says impatiently.

"You bail me out this one last time, and I'll buy you the next round'a beer." Tommy bargains.

Joel can't help but laugh at his brother's proposal. "You're really tryin’ to bribe me with beer, huh? Fine, I'll bail you out one last time. But you better not fuck this up, Tommy, you ain’t gettin' another chance." Joel warns.

"Thanks, Joel. I won't let you down this time, I promise - promise on our mamma," Tommy replies, sounding genuinely grateful.

Joel sighs and hangs up the phone, shaking his head. He can't believe he was letting his brother talk him into this again.

But as he gets dressed and heads out to bail his brother out of jail, Joel can’t shake off the feeling of excitement that still lingers from his earlier encounter. The memory of those lacy panties, the scent of you on his fingers, the taste of you on his tongue - all of it is still fresh in his mind.

As he drives, Joel's mind starts to wander. He can't stop thinking about you, about the way you probably look in those silky panties, the way you feel and taste. He feels himself getting hard again just thinking about it. There’s something about you that draws him in, something that makes him want to possess you, to make you his own.

With one hand on the wheel, his free hand pulls out the underwear from his pocket, his hand shaking with desire as he holds the lacy panties up.

He lets out a low moan, his cock already rock hard in his pants and without thinking, he begins to rub himself through the fabric, imagining it’s your hand on him instead.

The sensation is overwhelming, and Joel can feel himself on the brink of climax almost immediately. He tries to hold back to savor the moment, but it’s no use. Within seconds, he’s coming hard, staining his jeans with his own release.

Panicked, he starts feeling around his truck for something to cover up the stain on his pants. He rummages through the glove compartment and the back seat before finally finding an old sweater that Tommy had left behind on a previous visit.

Joel quickly places the sweater over his bulge, hoping it would be enough to hide the stain.

When he arrives, he parks in the loading zone and jumps out of the truck, still trying to act casual while tying the sweater around his waist. But as he approaches the entrance, he can feel the eyes of the other visitors coming in on him, no doubt noticing the bulge in his pants and the sweater tied around his waist.

As he walks into the jail, his face flushes with embarrassment, and his mind still preoccupies with thoughts of you. He makes his way to the visitor's area, scanning the crowd for Tommy.

When he finally spots his brother sitting at a visitors table, looking bored and impatient, Joel approaches him, trying to act as casual as possible.

"Hey, Tommy," Joel says, as he sits across from him.

Tommy looks up and does a double-take when he sees the sweater tied around Joel's waist. "What the hell happened to you?" Tommy asks, with a smirk on his face.

Joel feels his face grow even hotter with embarrassment. "Nothin’, just spilled some coffee on my pants.”

Tommy raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced.

Joel shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to discreetly adjust the sweater tied around his waist. He can feel Tommy's eyes on him, still skeptical about the "coffee" stain.

"Sure thing, big brother. Whatever you say," Tommy says, chuckling to himself.

—

Joel and Tommy walk out of the jail, the weight of the situation heavy between them but still Joel can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him as they step out into the cool night air. He had done his duty as an older brother once again, bailing Tommy out of a sticky situation.

As they make their way to Joel's truck, he can’t shake off the thoughts of you that have been consuming him all day. He wants you, needs you, in a way that he has never felt before.

Tommy notices Joel's distracted state and ribbs him about it. "Hey man, you got a girl on the brain or somethin’? You've been acting weird since you got here."

Joel hesitates for a moment, as much of a dumbass his kid brother is, he’s really all he’s got, "Uh - yeah, there’s this girl... Can't stop thinkin’ about her."

Tommy chuckles. "Well, maybe you should ask her out or somethin’. What's the worst that could happen?"

Joel shakes his head. "It's not that simple. I... I don't even know her name."

Tommy raises an eyebrow. "Well, where’d you meet her?"

Joel hesitates for a moment before admitting the truth. "I saw her move the other day across the way. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Just sat there starin’ for a bit, I just couldn't help myself.”

"Well, maybe you'll run into her again sometime. And this time, you can introduce yourself like a normal person."

Joel nods, feeling a glimmer of hope. Maybe Tommy was right. Maybe he would run into you again. And this time, he could do things differently.

—

The next evening, Joel finds himself at the bar down the street, hoping against hope that he might see you again, somewhere, somehow. He sits at the bar, nursing a beer and scanning the crowd for any sign of you.

As he sits there, he can't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. Has he been here before? It was like a fog had settled over his memory, making it difficult to recall the details.

And then, just as he's about to give up hope, he sees you walking towards the bar, your eyes scanning the crowd. And then, as if by some miracle, they land on him.

You smile, a shy, tentative smile that makes Joel's heart race. Joel can't help but feel a wave of nervousness wash over him as he sees you approaching him at the bar.

He's always been awkward around women, especially ones as beautiful as you. He tries to play it cool, taking a sip of his beer and glancing up at the TV, but his eyes keep flicking back to you.

"Hey there, cowboy," you say, a playful smile on your lips. "I haven't seen you around here before."

Joel feels a wave of nervousness wash over him, but he tries to hide it with a grin. "Oh, I'm just passin' through," he says, hoping he doesn't sound as awkward as he feels.

But you seem to be enjoying his discomfort, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, I'm glad you stopped by."

You lean against the bar, your body close to Joel's. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, and he finds himself struggling to focus on anything but you.

"So, cowboy, tell me what really brings you to this little dive bar?" You ask, your voice low and sultry.

Joel takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. "Just needed a break from the rodeo, I guess," he says, trying to play along.

You laugh, a loud, genuine laugh that makes Joel's heart skip a beat. "Well, I'm glad you found it. Maybe we can make each other's night a little more interesting."

Joel feels a thrill run through him at your words. He knows what you're suggesting, and he can't help but feel a surge of desire. "I'd like that darlin."

You lean in closer, your lips brushing against Joel's ear. "Follow me."

Joel follows you through the crowded bar, his heart racing with excitement. He can't believe what's happening, but he doesn't want it to stop.

You lead him to the bathroom, pushing open the door and pulling him inside. The room is small and dimly lit, but Joel can see the desire shining in your eyes.

You push him up against the wall, your body presses against his. Joel can feel your breath hot against his skin, and he finds himself struggling to breathe.

"I've wanted you since the moment I saw you."

Joel feels a surge of desire run through him. He's wanted you just as badly, and he can't believe this is finally happening. He reaches out, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing together as you explore each other's mouths.

Joel's hands move down your body, sliding under your skirt and finding their way to your panties. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, and he knows you want him just as badly as he wants you.

He slides your panties down your legs, his fingers lingering for a moment before he lets them fall to the floor.

You break the kiss, your breath hot and heavy. "Take me."

Joel doesn't need to be told twicn.sbb

De. He helps you up onto the sink and your legs wrap around his waist as he slides inside of you.

You moan with pleasure, your head thrown back as Joel thrusts into you. The bathroom is small and cramped, but neither of you care. All that matters is the heat and the pleasure between you.

Joel can feel himself getting close, the pleasure building up inside of him. He knows he won't be able to hold back for much longer.

But just as he's about to reach his climax, you pull away, your body sliding down his.

"Not yet, cowboy," you say, a playful smile on your lips.

Joel watches as you sink to your knees in front of him, your eyes never leaving his. He feels a surge rush through him as you reach for his hard cock, you wrap your hand around it, stroking him slowly. Joel lets out a low moan as he feels your hand on him, the sensation almost too much to bear.

You lean in closer, your breath hot against his skin. He can feel your lips brushing against the tip of his cock, and he holds his breath in anticipation.

And then, finally, you take him into your mouth. Joel lets out another moan as he feels your lips around him, your tongue swirling around his cock. His thoughts are consumed with desire as he watches you pleasure him.

He reaches down, tangling his fingers in your hair as he begins to thrust his hips, fucking your mouth with a roughness that takes you by surprise. You moan around his cock, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. He can't believe how good it feels and how much he wants you.

He feels himself teetering on the edge, and he knows he's about to come. He pulls out of your mouth, your saliva glistening on his cock.

Without a word, he pulls you up and turns you around, bending you over the sink. He can see your face in the mirror, your eyes wide with desire and anticipation.

He slides inside of you, your wetness coating his cock as he begins to thrust. He can feel you clenching around him, your body trembling. Joel reaches around, his fingers finding your clit. He begins to rub slow circles, hearing you moan with pleasure as he hits the right spot.

He knows he won't be able to hold back much longer, and with one final thrust, he spills his seed deep inside of you, filling you up as you moan with pleasure.

Joel watches in the mirror as you come with him, your face flushed with pleasure, and your eyes glazed over with desire. He can't believe what just happened, but he knows one thing for sure - he needs more of you.

He pulls out of you and helps you to your feet. You lean into him, your body trembling with pleasure.

"Wow," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel chuckles, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over him. "Yeah, wow," he says, pulling you close for a kiss.

He helps you straighten your clothes, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment before he pulls away.

You reach down, picking up your panties from the floor. You hold them out to Joel, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"A souvenir," you wink.

Joel takes the panties, his heart racing with excitement.

You lean in, your fingers putting a pre-written note in his pocket, and your lips brush against his ear. "Call me, cowboy," you say, your voice low and sultry.

And then you're gone, leaving Joel alone in the bathroom with nothing but the memory of your body and the scent of your panties to remind him of what just happened. He can't believe what just happened, but he knows one thing for sure - he's never felt this alive before.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller x f!reader

[chronicbeans]

I know this might sound weird but hear me out- I just saw a post of a home if he was humanized and now I came with this idea: How will wally react to reader flirting with home? Specially after it locked both of them and reader is desperate to get out? I'm sorry if this has grammar mistakes! English is not my first language.

Yippee! This is an interesting idea!

Wally Darling Reacting to Reader Flirting with Home:

TW: Captivity

🍎 It is day... neither of you know, now. Home hasn't let either of you out in so long. Wally has been clinging onto you, as if you are the only thing keeping him from completely breaking down. The worst part is, you are pretty sure that is the case. You have seen how he has acted if you are out of his sight for just a moment. He completely breaks down, thinking that you somehow escaped and abandoned him.

🍎 You know you have to do SOMETHING to get either you or him out of here. You remember all those movies you watched before Wally dragged you here, where one person seduces another person to get what they want. You don't know how you would seduce a house, and you have never even seduced a human before, but it is worth a shot!

🍎 You lean against one of the various tables, looking at the wallpaper. You take the first thing that comes to mind, and try to say it in the smoothest way possible.

🍎"That's some... uh... very attractive wallpaper you have, Home! Very uh... colorful and... full of patterns..." ... oh GOLLY THAT WAS HORRIBLE.

🍎 It seems to get the attention of Home, at least, as you feel its eyes looking at you. You smile wearily as you hear a creak. You don't know if it is good or bad, but you continue. "Yeah...! You must um... have a very high property value! Realtors would be dying to get a hold of you, because they would make millions! Heheheh..."

🍎 Meanwhile, Wally peeks into the room, his little puppet heart shattering! How dare you flirt with the enemy like that?! Are you that desperate to leave him? He can't take the sight, sprinting upstairs and to his room, tripping over his own feet as he does so. He's going to mope all day, now.

🍎 The idea wouldn't work, though. If anything, you would only want to make Home keep you longer. Its not necessarily that it likes you for the compliments and flirtation, it just finds the attempt funny. So, you are going to be stuck here for a while. That means you are going to have to deal with a heartbroken Wally who feels betrayed by your actions.

#welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #wally darling x reader

[lookismaddict]

Lookism Chapter 440 Memes/Thoughts I Have:

(SPOILERS !!! I don’t own any of the Lookism panels and the translations. Only the memes that I made.)

Wooooo weeeeee, another chapter this week! LET'S GOOOOOOOO!!! Also, I'm so sorry for worrying y'all for my absence these past few days but after this review is posted, Imma disappear again. 😭 At this point, my chapter reviews might not be posted on time and will be late to post frequently now. Also, don't mind me changing the color of the title every 10 chapters... *Ahem* Anyways-

RIGHT OFF THE BAT, THESE HOTTIES:

Ughhh... God, the fan service here. Thanks PTJ, you the man. 😩✋🏽 Also, the way Jibeom just acted like nothing happened by saying, "SORRY!" UH HA HA HA HA HA HA... 🧍🏽‍♀️💢 Nah, we allies now. Gotta forgive, right? And Jihan too... 🧍🏽‍♀️💢💢 Man, y'all just got your asses beat for no reason. This reminds me of those anime with the MC's fighting the enemies, and then they end up becoming allies with the "power of friendship". Behold, the power of friendship everyone.

Ok, but Imma be honest. Every time I see Hudson now, I squeal like a fangirl at a BTS concert. And suddenly seeing him... NAKED? RIGHT OFF THE BAT? My loyalty for Gun is REALLY being tested. Wtf man. Also, the snakes though? That's wild. 😭

Yeah, that panel really wrecked me. Physically and emotionally.

Oh, of course. Also, debt? Huh? 🤔

Yeah man, we need to know!!! WE'VE BEEN DYING TO KNOWWWWWWWW. Whenever I hear "Young Master", it reminds me of a butler saying that. As if Daniel is being treated by a butler. 💀

YESSSSSS FINALLY DANIEL GOT A LEAD TO JINYOUNG!!! 💪🏽

"At least eat before you go." That's so nice of them. Also, "At this rate he'll live here." KSSLDJLFSDHFSLFHDSFH JIHAN PLSSSSS- 💀💀💀💀💀

Oh? Daniel coming up with a big brain plan...? 👀

LET'S GOOOOOOOO DANIEL!! BIG BRAIN MOVE!!! 🤭

Daniel being acknowledged by, not only the man who ended the era of the First Generation, but also, the STRONGEST FIRST GENERATION KING???? Oh god, I love his growth and character development so much. He'll always have my heart forever. 💖 ALSO, THIS WHOLESOME MOMENT WITH JICHANG??? THIS IS TOO CUTE. MY HEART- 😩💗 I WAS SOBBING AT THIS BECAUSE THIS WAS TOO CUTE TO WITNESS. LIKE, LOOK AT HIM PETTING DANIEL'S HEAD, LOOKING LIKE A PROUD UNCLE.

Literally, one of the cutest things I've ever seen in a long time in Lookism.

YUUUSSSSSS, JICHANG IS GONNA HELP HIM EVENTUALLY. 😭😭👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 I hope they actually do make it to the First Affiliate though. But, if the Elder knew where he was, then does that mean that he knows that Jinyoung is not in his right mind? And does he know that he has people held captive in his little basement? 👀 *coughs* Daniel *coughs* Johan *coughs* Samuel... Sorry guys, I might be getting a cold. Idk what's going on with me.

Ohhhhhh shiiiii... Pls tell me we gonna see Jake here...

AHHHHHHHH I KNEW IT, JAKE!!! BABY BOY IS BACK!!!! 😭💙 Oh shit, I wOnDeR who THAT could be...

Tbh I'm not surprised that he said it was James Lee lol. It has been emphasized by Eugene before when he said in Ch. 432, that he was aware of the murder case that caught the attention of a lot of people. And he also mentioned how Charles Choi had been using blackmail on James Lee to control him in exchange of covering James's part of the murder. Also, earlier in that chapter, I was wondering why Charles would even bother to help in covering up a murder for James if that person that James murdered wasn't so important in the first place. If it was just a "nobody", then he would've just thrown that person somewhere, buried him, or burnt his body and converted it into ashes. Clearly, it all makes sense now. (Also, the red picture gave it away. lmao) AND JAKE, WITH THE TYPICAL "death stare" EXPRESSION WHEN HE FOUND OUT WHO THE MURDERER FOR HIS FATHER'S DEATH WAS??? Is he going to get revenge or something? 😭

But oh boy, James is really gonna get it eventually. Both him and Charles Choi. Actually, DEFINITELY Charles Choi. The guy is literally walking scum in the first place.

You see, Charles Choi is a clown... 😀 *end of argument*

I hope he does. Because if Charles Choi intercepts their operation, I'm going to sue. 😡

Ughhhh, bro... Don't make me cry again, please. 💀💀💀💀

Oh great, speak of the Devil. 👿 FUCK OFF CHARLES, AND STOP RUNNING AWAY FROM YOUR CRIMES, YOU ASSHOLE! 😤

NOOOOOOOOOO FUCK YOUUUUU CHARLES!!! GET AWAY FROM THE ELDER!!!! AGGHHHHHDSFHSDFHASDJDSHFLSD JICHANG!!!! BEAT HIS ASS!!!! TAKE HIS LIMBS OFF!!!! 😤😤😤😤😤

IT'S NOW OR NEVER, MF. I WANT THIS MAN TO SUFFER.

Wait, an "unknown car"? He MUST have a driver with him. Please tell me that his driver is none other than Gun/Goo... Ik this is wishful thinking, but I want to see them again. 😳

YEEEEEEESSSSSS JICHANG, SLAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYY. SLAY KING, SLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY. 😩👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 HERE'S YOUR CROWN, KING OF CHUNGCHEONG'S KING OF SEOUL'S WHITE SNAKE!! 👑

By choking...? 💀 I mean, I've seen a big ass snake devour a huge animal before, so it's possible Charles. Don't doubt Jichang's abilities, because you might be surprised at how he could MURDER YOU ON SIGHT. 😡😡😡 (And oh god, looking at Elite's face still reminds me of my professor. 😭 *sobbing* But also, with a twist of Manager Kim too.)

I just want his ass to be wiped off the face of the Earth. Both him, and Eugene. But, wait... If Eugene and James Lee are conspiring AGAINST Charles Choi, and everyone else are conspiring against Charles Choi too, then... WHY CAN'T EVERYONE JUST UNITE AND BEAT CHARLES??? They all have a similar goal, yet they decided to do things their own way? Well, I get that they have ulterior motives/goals for them to take down Charles Choi, but at least make it easier for yourselves instead of just handling the crap on your own, right? Fight later, unite now. 🧍🏽‍♀️

Man, idk anymore. Just do whatever tf you guys want at this point. 😭

#lookism #lookismaddict #lookism 440 #lookism spoilers #lookism spoiler #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism memes #lookism meme #kwak jibeom #hudson ahn #ahn hyunseong #kwak jihan #jay hong #hong jaeyeol #daniel park #park hyungseok #noh bakgu #kwak jichang #choi beongae #jake kim #kim gimyeong #charles choi #choi dong soo

[kudzuoath]

Further Research Required

Temperance explains an embarrassing aspect of tiefling body language to Gale. He immediately decides the topic requires further study of the hands on variety.

*This is smut. If you know me, no you don't. In fact, if you happen to know me, this post is blank. Shoo.

“What does it mean when your tail lifts up into an ‘s’ shape like this? I have been meaning to ask but it slipped my mind until now, what with everything we’ve had to handle just lately.”

And then Gale demonstrably ran a finger down the length of her tail. Startling her nearly out of her skin – not to mention the pleasant daydream that had stolen her concentration. It also made her squeak.

Temperance wasn’t the type to squeak. And yet there really wasn’t any other word for the sound that escaped her throat.

She looked over her shoulder at Gale, face about as red as Karlach was normally. He had his chin in one hand in his ‘thinking’ pose and was looking at her behind with his head tilted and rather more academic curiosity than she thought appropriate.

“Gale,” she half growled.

He looked up at her – then blinked. “Are you alright? You’re looking a touch over warm…”

Human, she reminded herself. He’s human.

His fingertips were still brushing over the skin of her tail. It had her heart beating too fast in her chest. She knew he wouldn’t have touched her at all if they weren’t in a relationship. No matter how curious. Even so he probably thought it no more sensitive than an arm, or a leg.

“When my tail does that it’s – uh…” Mortification. She hadn’t felt embarrassment this keen since she’d been a teenager and Eldrey started poking fun at her for her ‘fuck me’ tail every time the older tiefling pulled her into a hug. Nothing on or under Toril could get her to call it a ‘fuck me’ tail to Gale. She stumbled over her words. “It, um, indicates – attraction and, uh, desire. So.”

“Oh?” A beat. Then he blushed. “Oh! Yes, that would…” and then the wizard trailed off, eyes going a little distant. Surely remembering the many times her damned tail had made just such a motion while she was talking to him.

Temperance had never quite managed to control that sort of body language. It came from growing up without any older tieflings to model from or to teach her. Even Eldrey only knew what it meant because someone else had told her.

“This is certainly information worth knowing,” he went on. His voice dropping to a caressing tone. One that made her mouth go dry and the end of her tail – the traitorous appendage – wrap around his wrist. There was a gleam in his eye too, curiosity no longer merely academic.

“Gale,” she repeated. Incredible embarrassment warming her through. But not just embarrassment, oh no. There was a thrill of desire low in her belly that only went hotter and tighter at his tone and heavy-lidded expression. “Stop it.”

“I would like to point out, Temper, that it’s you wrapped around me. All I’ve done is make an… observation.” His smile as he said this had more than a touch of mischief in it. “Though I think this new knowledge requires further study on both our parts, yes? I can assure you I am as avid and thorough a student as I am a teacher.”

And then he twisted his captive wrist and curled each finger, one by one around her tail, sending a zing of pure heat directly between her legs.

“For example, you seem to be rather sensitive here… are you?” Still that soft, beckoning voice. The one that sent chills down her spine.

“I think… you’re clever enough to realize the – the answer to that question.”

Gale’s hand caressed along the sensitive skin near the base of her tail, seemingly fascinated by the way she gasped and arched into his touch.

“Is this an area of study you’re keen to explore?” he asked, pausing for a moment. Checking in. Something that only made her love him more.

“Yes,” she said, breathless. “Please?”

This was all the invitation he needed. Gale hooked the hand not currently held captive around her middle and tugged her back against his chest. “Now, might I have the use of both of my hands for this, love?”

It took a little concentration, but she unspooled her tail from his arm. It was still high, and even fully clothed and backed up against him she felt ridiculously on display. Which was sort of the point, really.

“Very good,” he praised. “Now lay back a little for me – most excellent, just like that –”

The back of her head rested on his shoulders, and her legs were on their side of his. A sort of backwards straddling, with one of Gale’s hands carding through her hair and the other splayed somewhat possessively across her lower stomach. Once he was certain she was stable, his hand moved from her belly to the hem of the long, split-thigh tunic she wore about camp.

“May I?”

Her heartbeat spiked again, and she squirmed. Terribly aware of how damp her underwear were. She had been entertaining a rather… explicit fantasy when Gale started all of this.

“You may.”

He hitched up the ‘skirt’ of her tunic and slipped his hand between her thighs, cupping her covered sex in an almost gentle movement.

“Why, you’re nearly soaked through, love. What ever were you thinking about? Not alchemy, I’d wager.” Those clever fingers of his dragged across the seam of her pussy almost lazily, causing the fabric to stick and creating just the slightest bit of extra friction. “Perhaps that novel Wyll was reciting earlier today?”

Temperance closed her eyes and whined. Sensitive. Needy. Not certain if she craved a firmer touch or more of this terrible teasing. She could feel his cock hardening against her backside, proving his own growing need. Something that compelled her to wrap her tail around his waist and pull tight. As if he could be any closer.

“I was thinking about you,” she admitted. Allowing herself to relax against him even as her thighs trembled and her hips lifted to press his hand more firmly against her. “Your, mm, your hands, actually.”

Gale’s breath hitched, and she turned her head slightly to catch sight of his expression. Something raw, and needful, and – fond. He saw her looking and pressed a lingering kiss to her temple. “Just my hands?” he murmured against her skin.

She let out a breathless laugh that turned into a moan as he pushed aside her underwear and slipped one finger between her lower lips. Just barely brushing over her clit on the first pass. “Your, ah, your voice. The night we spent together, in the stars. It’s… It’s terribly distracting.”

A second finger joined the first. The heel of his hand pressed down on her as he rocked them deeper inside her with such precise, careful movements.

“I do try to be memorable,” he laughed, crooking his fingers inside her and making her gasp. “Would that I had as many hands here as I could have there.”

She closed her eyes, humming in pleasure at his touch. At how very closely he held her. Close enough she could feel his heart beating against her back. Chills raced up and down her skin at the way he held her open and set her on display.

“You’re quite the sight,” he murmured into her hair.

Gale worked his fingers in as deep as they would go and stopped moving. He simply held her against him. Bending his head and pressing kisses full of tongue and teeth down the column of her neck that made her clench around his fingers and rock against them.

The possessive way he held her had her tightening her tail around him, and her hands fisting in the fabric of his trousers. As much a mutual claiming as she could manage in their current position.

“Now,” he said softly. “Research.”

Gale shifted so he could kiss the back of her neck, slowly leaning forward until she was on her hands and knees with her damned tail standing practically at attention when he managed to slip its grasp. She groaned when he pulled his fingers from her, trying to follow his hand as it pulled away.

“Ah, ah, I need you to stay still for me, love.”

If she’d felt on display before… Her face went so hot she thought she might catch something on fire. “As… as you like.”

“Very good.” There was a smile in his voice, and the praise made her shiver.

Gale flipped up the ‘skirt’ of her tunic and tugged her underwear down to her knees. Then he paused, looking her over with a pleased hum that had her pressing her thighs together and squirming. Something she realized just put on more of a show for him. But then, she wanted to. Even if she’d much rather he go back to touching her the way he had been.

“Are you going to stare, or are you going to touch me?” she huffed, flicking her tail at him.

He cast a spell that made her skin prickle with awareness, then reached out and caught her tail. One hand gripping at the notch just under its narrowest point, the other right below it and sliding up, up, until he reached the place where it met her spine. He lifted the appendage and kissed the underside at the very base. A place she hadn’t even realized would make her gasp. And when he licked her there her arms went out from under her and she half collapsed onto the carpet.

“Gale!” it came out strangled and far louder than she wanted it to considering they were in his tiny bloody tent right next to a godsdamned vampire –

Gale stroked his thumb through her folds and caught on her clit. He pressed down on it until her hips jerked and he pulled another noise out of her. Her pussy clenched around absolutely nothing and all she could think about was his lips and his tongue as they explored the ridges of her tail, and the two fingers he pumped into her.

It was so, so good. But not enough. Left her balanced right on the edge.

“Stop teasing me –”

“Have you noticed how you tighten around my hand each time I put my tongue to your tail?” he asked. Almost casually, if not for the breathless note in his voice. And the hint of smugness.

“I, mmff– fuck!” His teeth, scraping lightly over her. “Gale please, I need you inside me –”

“Well – if you’re saying please.”

There was a rustling sound and then his cock was pressing against her entrance. Her tail draped over one shoulder in a loose curl when he let go for a moment. Gale parted her lower lips and dragged the head of his cock up and down through the folds of her sex. Making her shiver and lift one hand to muffle the next too-loud moan at the sensation.

“Please,” she said through her fingers, voice cracking.

“You need only ask and I will happily provide,” he said softly.

He pushed inside her, then. So slow despite how he’d prepared her with his fingers, despite the fact that she was so wet she could feel it on her thighs. Decadent man. He took his time, sliding in and out of her, going a little deeper each time. Dragging out the stretch and the burn until at long last he was fully seated inside her.

“Good?” he asked, breathless, both hands on her hips. “I can take you to such heights if you let me.”

“I,” she had to fight for words. She felt too full, too sensitized. He was all around her again, just like in the stars. “I want you to. Gale, show me.”

“Then hold tight, love,” he said.

He tightened his hold on her hips and started to move. Slow at first, but moment by moment increasing the tempo. Gale was not a small man, but the angle as he covered her body with his and wrapped his arms around her made him feel bigger. Each thrust had her pushing back against him, chasing the pleasure. Wanting more, because she was so, so close.

“Don’t stop, please, I just need –”

One hand dropped down low so his talented fingers could play with her clit. Intensifying absolutely everything. Making each thrust feel like a match strike. Every muscle and nerve ending went molten and began to sing. So did she, crying his name out and coming with such intensity it made her vision spark.

Then her entirely insane wizard murmured a word of arcane power that hummed through her body like she was a tuning fork. And there was another set of hands on her. Or rather, another set of Gale’s hands, pushing her up while the ones at her waist pulled.

She found herself back in the position she’d started in, only this time seated on Gale’s cock with her probably ruined underwear around her knees. Flushed and flinching from the too-intense shocks of pleasure every time he moved inside her. His projection was kneeling in front of her, and leaned forward to kiss her throat with cool lips that sparked slightly against her skin. It was like being kissed by a stormcloud. Electric. It made her body hum. The projection smiled at her with eyes darkened by desire, clever hands undoing the belt at her waist and then… waiting.

“Gale?” she gasped, skin erupting in goosebumps.

“Do you think I would be content to watch you fall apart only once?” He said, rocking up into her again, something that made both of them moan. “The night is young. We’ve so much to explore together. Until the very moment you wish to stop.”

Temperance sighed when the projection pulled her tunic down over her shoulders and bared her breasts. It leaned forward and tongued at one of her nipples, a move that had her snatching at the real man behind her. The projection was relentless. And she quickly realized it didn’t need to breathe.

Then it moved from her breasts down her stomach, trailing its tongue over each hard ridge of her infernal heritage. And Gale continued to fuck his cock into her. Pulsing inside of her, hot and heavy. Just on the edge of too much.

An edge she was shoved over with a hoarse shout when the projection began to kiss her pussy. It’s tongue against her clit. That lighting-in-a-bottle sensation tearing through her. Too much! Too sensitive. She pressed back against Gale, one hand clinging to his shirtsleeve, the other to the mirror before her. Caught between them both as they brought her to the edge again, and again.

Until something snapped. A ripple of magic letting go as a spell broke, and Gale swore softly under his breath. The projection – apparently not the spell he lost – sat up and kissed her again. Swallowing her cries in its mouth as Gale’s hips stuttered against her. Harder now, without rhythm.

He buried his head in her neck and clung to her as he came in a sudden, hot burst. And when he did, there was another snap and the projection vanished. Leaving the two of them to gasp and tremble alone in his tent, still lit by the blue flickers of light in his chest.

For several moments they just sat together and caught their breath. Until Gale’s creaky knees began to protest a little too loudly and they had to part. Temperance couldn’t help but whimper when he slipped out of her, knees knocking together and tail snapping down to protect from any further touching. She could feel her pulse between her legs still, and wasn’t entirely sure that, if she were asked to in that moment, that she could stand.

Gale pulled her into his arms again and held her close. Careful to avoid the parts of her still singing and over-sensitive.

“Quite a mess I’ve made of you,” he said, clearly pleased with himself.

Temperance swatted at him with her tail, exhaustion dragging at her limbs. “Vengeance will be mine,” she mumbled. Still shivering a little.

“Vengeance? Really?” His tone was caught between laughter and softness. “Surely I deserve a reward more than a punishment? Did I not satisfy you?”

“Oh, you did.” Temperance nuzzled into the velvet texture of his camp shirt, eyes drifting shut at the way he was running one hand through her hair. Curiously, he seemed to know to avoid her horns. They weren’t always sensitive, but just now….

“Then perhaps it’s the broken promise of ‘all night’ you object to? Used to be I could keep three spells going much longer than that,” he sighed – sounding genuinely annoyed at that last bit. Because of course he would be.

“Three?” she tilted her head to look up at him.

“Silence, endurance, and our extra guest,” he said.

Temperance forced herself to sit back up so she could find his lips and kiss them. Soft and chaste. “I love you.”

He looked at her like she’d been the one to place the stars in the sky, lightly running his hand up and down her spine now. “You are everything to me.”

She pressed their foreheads together and watched him close his eyes. One day soon, she was going to show him that he was everything to her, too.

But first…

“Please cast prestidigitation before we both pass out.”

#gale #gale/tav #gale bg3 #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #despite this post i'm firmly in the 'gale is a switch' camp #im posting this and fleeing #nsft #how does one tag these #i dont know #ao3 is so much easier #not sure this one Works but oh well

[standfucker]

HELLO ZEN I hope you don't mind but I decided to send you my slightly unhinged work thoughts bc technically you inspired them

quin reminded me of white out anddddd idk if you've ever seen this image of marco

but uh. him as a marine. so my brain went brrr a little bc like, lets be real he'd probably be really really mean roleplaying as a marine (as would the others, I mean god, pirate scum duhhhhh)

listen. you can't tell me these pirates don't occasionally sneak into marine bases, and have the outfits on hand. imagine just rocking up to them post break in and they're still in them and being like oh and they just immediately catch on and there's some light teasing until another day when you show up and they're just all dressed up saying they wanna flip the roleplay from last time >>

and the marines are gonna get some info from their captive by any means necessary and marco gets to relive his little fantasy get on your knees moment and they're just MEANER as marines a lil more edging than pleasure and they're just saying the most degrading things and ugh

..... some light threats with knives too bc YOU PUT THAT IN MY BRAIN AND IT WONT LEAVE OK

cutting the clothes off tracing around like tell us what we wanna know or elseeeeee (some light cutting too but marco can heal it it's fine)

I had this open for a bit but i'm sending it now so I don't chicken out xD I was hoping to give you a little more but for some reason my brain/to text is not cooperating, I'm very tired but it's still buzzing around in there so maybe... there will be more... if that's ok <33

I reread some of white out when I got home and... that marco moment... zen your mind.... I mean it was ALL good obvi but MEAN MARCO makes my brain melt

Kazi, my dear Kazi, I'm so so happy you were brave enough to send me this. You are so smart and your brain is so big, I have gone a little insane thinking about this, it's SUCH a good idea so now it's gotta happen. Congrats, you single-handedly inspired a sequel for White Out. I've copy-pasted all this down into a new google doc for later.

I have seen that art btw, and I've [redacted]--I mean, saved it to my computer for research purposes :] (The blood splatters? Are you KIDDING me? It's like it's specifically been made to torment me!)

I'm thinking you walk in on them dressed up and Ace is like "look what we stole! :D Want to try one on?" But you're too dumbstruck by the sight of them in uniform, and Izou catches on first, mentioning that he thinks you must like what you see, and you start to protest "don't be silly, of course not--" but then Thatch stalks over to you and cages you to the wall with one arm, leaning over you just to see your reaction. The look on your face is a dead giveaway, all wide-eyed and flushed, breath caught in your throat.

"W-What kind of pirate would be interested in such a thing?" you try to defend yourself.

"You tell me," Thatch grins, and then grabs you and hoists you over his shoulder, carrying you back to the others. "Look what I caught, you guys~"

"Thaaatch," you wiggle and whine, but it's so close to a whimper that they know they have you. "Not in front of the crew--"

He sets you down, and Marco pulls you close to him, whispering in your ear if this is something you'd be interested in exploring further in private. He already knows your answer before you even say it. All you have to do is look at him, and your dilated pupils tell him everything he needs to know.

#replies #kazieai #knifeplay cw #I have to finish other fics first but I'm already going feral thinking about this

[ey-there-little-guy]

hello, goodbye, t'was nice to know you

Chapter 1 of 2: Daises - loyalty ; secrets between friends

Tubbo found a borrower in his flat a couple months ago, injured and in need of help. Now that Ranboo has healed it's time for them to part ways. (Unless?)

words: 2,183

finally decided to post this here. this all spawned from a prompt I found on a list by @a-tiny-frog-girl who is very cool 👍 It turned into its own AU haha. Next chapter will be Ranboo POV so that'll be fun ^_^ - cw: mentioned past captivity, past violence, referenced broken bones. tell me if I missed something! -

Tubbo looks away from the borrower that's been in his life for the past couple months, arms crossed over his chest in a way he hopes comes across as casual. "You can leave now. If you want to." He says.

"I-I can?" Tubbo can perfectly picture the way Ranboo looks when they say that; ears perking up, mismatch eyes shining in the light as they actually look up at Tubbo for once.

He shrugs "your arm is pretty much healed, so, yeah. Just— like, don't go straining it and shit."

"O-of course, yeah, mhm." Ranboo says, "and this isn't— you're not going to, like... stop me?" Their voice gets more unsure at the end.

Tubbo's eyes snap back to Ranboo, still standing on the shelf right where he set them, next to the hole in the wall. Their hands fidget with the tuft of fur at the end of their tail, attention still solely on the human.

"Why would I?" Tubbo says, frowning.

"Just— well, because. You, uh, y'know?" Ranboo waves a hand—the uninjured one—around the air between them and Tubbo in the most sweeping, vague motions possible.

Tubbo's frown deepens, "no, I don't know."

Ranboo winces and looks away at Tubbo's response, ears drooping immediately.

Tubbo takes a slow breath in, then sighs, expression softening. He thinks for a moment, trying to understand why Ranboo would ask that and what they're implying.

Ever since they took the makeshift splint off of Ranboo's arm yesterday, the phantom feeling of loneliness has been creeping back up on Tubbo, an invisible clock ticking down the hours, minutes, seconds until Ranboo finally decides to go back to their own life, taking up most of Tubbo's thoughts and causing a hollow feeling in his chest that he tells himself he'll deal with later.

He assumed Ranboo would be excited to finally go back to their normal life inside the walls, they were yesterday and this morning, why would they think Tubbo would stop them? Did they think he would...

Oh.

For a moment, the empty hole in his chest turns into a lead weight that interferes with his breathing.

"Ranboo," Tubbo tries to make the way his arms tighten around himself go unnoticed, aiming for a calm tone, "did... did you think I was going to keep you here?"

The borrower brings their tail closer, the end wrapping fully around one hand. Ranboo doesn't answer verbally, but after a moment, they nod.

The weight doesn't lessen. Tubbo keeps his hands tucked close, taking a deep breath.

"I'm not, I was never going to. You're free to go wherever you want Ranboo. I'm sorry if I made you feel trapped here, I just— it was partially my fault you broke your arm, so I wanted to help fix it." He says.

Ranboo nods as Tubbo finishes, "I-I know. And I'm... I'm really thankful for your help, Tubbo. It's just I've— I guess— it wouldn't be the first time a human changed their mind about, uh, that."

The duo let that statement sink in.

Ranboo looks smaller, if that's possible; uncomfortable, focused on brushing through strands of their tail fur while tension makes their movements stiff. Tubbo doesn't think he's much better, neither of them have ever really talked about things that happened in the past before. Ranboo has never asked Tubbo where his scars came from or why he feels the need to check every locked window and door late at night, and similarly Tubbo has never asked Ranboo why they wake up in the middle of the night gasping for air or why smiley faces make them freeze and go quiet.

(Tubbo did hide all the notes and things with smiley faces away after he noticed that though. Just because they don't talk about their problems doesn't mean they'll disregard things that are clearly distressing to the other.)

But just this once, Tubbo will ask just a little. "Are you saying a human has... refused to let you go, before?"

Ranboo nods.

Again, they're silent.

Tubbo has never been one to react with wild emotions, but that doesn't mean he can't feel the horror and fury broiling deep in him. Time and time again he's reminded just how bad people can be, he almost feels ill thinking of what that could mean for a borrower, someone that can fit in the palm of Tubbo's hand, bones snappable like twigs; what someone like the man that gave Tubbo his scars could do, without consequence because no one even knows you exist—

"...That's fucked up." Tubbo says after a moment.

Ranboo snorts, glancing back up at Tubbo, "is that, like, all you're gonna say?" They ask, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not going to force you to talk about something horrible that happened if you don't want to."

Ranboo's ears twitch, watching Tubbo take a quick breath before continuing.

"Ranboo, I promise I would never do that to you. Okay? You are my friend, and no matter if you leave and I never see you again, or if you stick around and I do, I will never do anything to trap you here." He finishes, watching Ranboo mull the words over.

The borrower sighs, "I guess I just... thought you might change your mind about letting me go like that human did. That human and I weren't— we never became friends, really, but I thought we got along at least, until he, um... yeah." They trail off, shrugging.

Tubbo nods, expression pinched. Despite still knowing practically nothing, it's a start, even if this is his last time seeing Ranboo so they'll never have a chance to continue beyond that.

As if reading his thoughts, Ranboo takes a step back towards the hole in the wall, Tubbo makes no move to stop them, he doesn't even twitch a finger.

"Welp..." Ranboo smiles, crooked and awkward and something else, making Tubbo loosen his stance and smile back halfheartedly.

"You're gonna go?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Tubbo blinks away an itch in his eyes, "it's about time, I guess." He says simply, no real coldness in his tone even as he shrugs.

Ranboo smiles larger, eyes squinting, "that eager to get rid of me huh?"

Not really, you've been the best thing to happen to me since Tommy left, a surprisingly big part of Tubbo admits.

He isn't going to say that though, he doesn't want Ranboo to feel like they need to stay, especially with the reveal they've always been a little scared Tubbo would take advantage of the borrower's small size to make that choice for them.

Besides, Tommy had his reasons; If Ranboo stays, maybe they'll find their own reasons too. So it's better to leave this way, with things left unsaid—a hollow goodbye, maybe, but better than the explosive arguing that was Tubbo and Tommy's last interaction.

"I mean, you do snore pretty loud at night bossman. Can't say I haven't missed my beauty sleep..." Tubbo says, trying to put on a considering face and failing miserably as Ranboo scoffs with their most 'are you kidding me?' expression.

"I am like, ninety-percent sure that you don't even sleep, Tubbo."

"Yeah, because you snore." He repeats.

"You are impossible." Ranboo says, smiling.

Tubbo grins, "thank you."

Ranboo laughs lightly, Tubbo lets it soothe some of his own feelings.

They let the moment linger. Tubbo takes in Ranboo's more relaxed stance, happy he could calm them even a little bit. They're not fidgeting so much with their tail anymore, just loosely holding it close, which is usual for them. Their ears turn and wiggle more freely too, no longer fully focused on one thing but content to listen to whatever draws their attention, something Ranboo wouldn't do if they were still scared Tubbo would do something.

Of course, even then, Ranboo manages to make everything sound like they're in a constant state of anxiety.

"It feels a bit awkward to just walk into the wall with someone watching, to be honest. Um." Ranboo chuckles, brushing one hand through their hair, "not bad awkward, just... Weird?"

"Mhm." Tubbo hums, thinking. "What if we left at the same time? Like—" he steps over a few paces to the arch leading into the kitchen, just down the wall from the shelf "—I'll go into the kitchen, and at the same time you'll go into the wall. Or I could just leave first, I guess." He doesn't want to leave first.

Ranboo shrugs, "the first option sounds okay."

"Cool. Alright then. On three?"

Ranboo nods.

Tubbo readies to start the countdown, but the words get stuck, his mouth stays closed. A few seconds pass, maybe a minute, eventually Ranboo speaks in Tubbo's place, taking a deep breath.

"Uh— one?"

"Two..."

"Three."

Tubbo sidesteps into the kitchen, the shelf with Ranboo on leaving his sight.

He stands there, feeling like he's holding his breath despite breathing evenly. The tile underfoot is cold and seeps into his skin.

Eventually, Tubbo sighs harshly, forcing himself to uncross his arms, resting his hands at his sides. Slowly, he shuffles back into the living-room.

Ranboo is no longer on the shelf.

Tubbo sighs slowly, blinking rapidly a few times. The little hope in him that maybe Ranboo would choose to stay dies, shriveling in on itself like a flower left on the windowsill to dry.

Speaking of, he should really throw those petunias out already.

Tubbo walks past the shelf, across the room to the short hall leading to his room. The wood floor creaks loudly as he enters the doorway.

The room is the same as always; two beds on his right, the closer one fixed neatly and the farther one stripped down to the mattress. His clothes are strung across the floor, figuring out whether they're clean or dirty is a guessing game. The faded dresser at the foot of the empty bed stands against the right wall collecting dust. Directly in front of him is the desk with chipped paint and a rickety folding chair, laptop in place.

To the right of that, in the middle of the wall is the window. It has light gray curtains with little designs and squiggles embroidered into it by hand, the one Tubbo's eyes catch on this time is a very nice cow stitched with brown and white thread in a bottom corner.

He walks over, brushing the curtain to the side to see the windowsill. Just like he left them, a handful of petunia flowers are dried up, not even in a cup or vase. Most of them are red, because of course they are, but a few yellow ones are there too, even if the colors of both are hard to make out when the petals are curled in and dead.

They were very pretty when Tubbo first received them, bright and soft to the touch, even if they were meant more as a 'kinda fuck you'.

Tubbo's never been that big on flower language though, so who knows what exactly Tommy was trying to say.

Now, this is the part where Tubbo grabs them, walks to the bin next to the door and drops the flowers in. There's really no point in keeping dead plants in the flat, just sitting there, it's not like they're something to move on from, Tubbo will find more flowers on his own. Maybe he'll even put those ones in vases, give the flat some more color.

Still, for some reason, it's almost too much effort to raise the hand not holding the curtain open to pick up the flowers. Tubbo blinks down at them a few times, willing himself to anyway.

He scoops the flowers up carefully, much more used to the slower actions after carrying Ranboo so much. The stems feel too light and brittle, Tubbo holds them in a loose fist.

Tubbo sighs, pulling the curtain back in place.

He doesn't go to the bin. Instead he goes to the dresser. He pulls the topmost drawer open and gently places the flowers at the very back of the empty drawer, sliding it closed after. He never used those drawers, and Tubbo is of the belief 'out of sight, out of mind'.

It doesn't work much with people, but oh well.

He climbs onto the stripped mattress and sits in the top corner where the walls meet, leaning against one with his knees under his chin, arms looped around tightly.

There's a hollow feeling in his chest, he said he'd deal with it later and well, Tubbo meant after dinner, but he doesn't feel like getting up to eat anything so there goes that plan to deal with it at all.

Tubbo's eyes, for some stupid reason, start to sting and blur. He tilts his head to press them into his knees, the material of his jeans feels odd on his scars but he's used to it.

He stays like that until he dozes off. If in that time the knees of his jeans become a bit more damp, he'll blame it on a shorter dryer cycle.

-

Petunias - resentment; anger / friendship (yellow)

[Chapter 2: Yellow lillies] | [AO3 link]

If you read this far a like or reblog is super beloved <3

#mcyt g/t #dsmp g/t #tiny!ranboo #borrower!ranboo #giant!tubbo #dsmp gt #mcyt gt #ey.writing #FFSO au #im happy with this there should be more giant pov of missing the tiny #it's fun weaving in instances of how the giant has changed bc of the tiny like gentler holds 'nd careful movements #then thinking how if the tiny leaves those reminders could stay with the giant long after #would they wonder if the tiny also missing what they had? #i have many thoughts but few words #just wait until i finish ch.2 that one has some Real longing in it haha #nervous to post this tbh but screw it. y'know?

[jingledbells]

OH ALSO . for that one fandom/ship/character ask game!!!

6, 9 and 13 for gravity falls

2 and 11 for fiddauthor

anddd 17 and 20 for stan and mabel :3

gravity falls 6,9,13

6) I think I already told you but I loveeee Mabel and ford!!! sweater twins my beloved ahhhh I care for them deeply. I really do wish they had more interactions cuz when they do they're so sweet!!Mabel clearly is in awe of ford as much as dipper is and ford has nothing but kind things to say about his niece

9) Mabel and Pacifica DEFINTLEY. Ive seen a post explaining how mabel should've been the one to assist Pacifica in northwest mansion mystery and honestly I agree. they're so silly together aghhhh. also smth tells me that lumity may or may not have been somewhat inspired by them. to an extent

13) hmmmmmm probably dipper and Pacifica. I think they have a nice friendship but I don't like how they're overshipped a lot of the times

fiddauthor 2 and 11

2) LIKE HELL I SHIP IT. I think I've also told you this before but I am. so ill about them. hhhhhhhh. I ship them cuz....uh idk I just kinda SAW them and was immidietlay captivated by them...like I was hypnotized...even from before ford was revealed I went 'GAY' in my seat while watching em'...they also remind me of petrigrof a LOT which is probably why they enraptured me so(previous brainrot which messed up my mind/pos)...they're just so tragic and so queer coded and have my gay ass in a chokehold wahhhhh

11) I shipped them from before I even INTERACTED with the fandom. like the moment I watched society of the blind eye I thought they were kinda gay tm. and then I watched atots and the rest of the show and I was forever changed. and then I googled them to see if they exist(well ofc they do but I had my doubts) and then from that moment on I was insane. all happened in Dec 27th 2022. and then I joined Tumblr January 2023 and started to consume them even more

mabel 17 and 20:

17) honestly that's a tough one. I know on the outside depending on what genre Mabel would probably have a hard time at first but something tells

20) shes pan and enby+transfem!! she doesn't really care about gender(regarding hers and people she likes) and kinda just likes to have fun with it!! uses she/it/they/he/xe(uses a bunch of neopronouns but Im still thinking of them)

stan 17 and 20:

17) yeass he would indeed...the scareoke episode he was SERVING beating the crap out of those zombies. if he was in alien he would be Ripley and be one of the only survivors...that's if it was a slasher or a zombie movie I'm not exactly sure on psychological horror or ghosts yet

20) HE HAS *THE* AROALLO SWAG. he doesn't really feel romantic attraction to anyone but it takes him quite a bit for him to figure that out. I like to think Mabel definitely helped him :] wahh aro stan I'd kill for you. he's also very bi and very transmasc(LOOK AT THE FUCKING SHIRTS HE WEARS. YOU CANNOT TELL ME IM WRONG), but he's also genderfluid to me. that one bit where he's watching the dutchess and she says 'i may be a dutchess...but I'm ALSO a WOMAN!!' and stan cries and says 'its just like my life!!! in a way', that part did NOT escape me. like sir, care to elaborate on what you meant? there is nothing cis about that man I can tell you. he has such gender envy

#thankie ferret I had such fun answering these :33 #ask #moot tag

[tina-mairin-goldstein]

For the authors ask: 🍔, 🍭, 🥑, 🥠, and 🌮! Any and/or all

Thanks for the ask! These are going to be kind of hard.

🍔What's a headcanon that hasn't made it into a published fic yet?

This one is really hard! Uh...

That would be a Fantastic Beasts one (this was before SOD came out) and is that Credence/Aurelius is the magical love child of Dumbledore and Grindelwald. Through highly magical means, Dumbledore gave birth to Credence, sent him off to America with his aunt, and then thought he died when the ship went down. Grindelwald doesn't know this.

🍭What's been your most challenging story to write, and why?

That's a tie! That would All Night or a Hundred Years, and For Remembrance (Holes in the Floor of the Mind).

All Night or a Hundred Years is giving me the challenge of writers' block right now, because I know how it ends but I don't know how to get it there. It's an FB one about Percival Graves and Leta Lestrange being alive but held captive by Grindelwald. It needs to take place over the course of five years, and is confined to one POV and one room, which makes it extra challenging. I don't know what could happen for five years locked in a dungeon by Grindelwald. I'm thinking of laying a few things out and then doing a time skip.

For Remembrance was a challenge to incorporate a plant from the language of flowers and its meaning, and it was challenging to write because the initial story, told from the POV of Abigail Hobbs, was not satisfying me. It needed to be something more, and I had a self-imposed deadline to meet. It grew into a post-fall amnesia fic, and writing how that would change Hannibal's relationship with Will and Abigail was a challenge. It was also the first time I had ever written directly from Hannibal's POV, which was intimidating to me. I had a few meltdowns about it, but luckily some lovely mutuals allowed me to talk to them and give them pieces to read, and helped me get it to a place where I am just so happy with it.

🥑What are you currently working on?

Technically six stories right now, but three are on hiatus.

They would All Night or a Hundred Years, my Percival and Leta story, and it's on hiatus indefinitely at the moment.

Caraval, a Hannibal AU of the book Caraval by Stephanie Garber, where Will and Hannibal team up to play a magical game and track down Abigail. They need to win.

Untangled, a FB Tangled AU where Newt is in the roll of Rapunzel, and Tina is Flynn Ryder. Grindelwald kidnapped Newt as a baby because the flower magic Newt has fixes his magic, which was broken in a duel with Dumbledore.

The Third Day, a Hannibal AU based off the HBO show The Third Day. Currently on hiatus, because I haven't actually seen The Third Day and that's making things difficult.

Han+SPN, a Hannibal/Supernatural crossover co-written with Sarc. Sam and Dean team up with Will, a half-ravenstag, who is being pursued by hunters and needs to rescue his mate, Hannibal. Hiatus because I forgot to come up with the outline.

And The Great Red Dragon, a Hannibal knight AU where Francis Dolarhyde teams up with Will and Hannibal to save his love from a dragon.

🥠What's your approach to world-building?

If it's an AU based off something else, I lay it out how it was laid out in the source material. Otherwise, I just try to stick it in the front and lay out the facts to get that out of the way.

🌮How do you balance the desire to write for yourself versus the desire to write for an audience?

Uhh... I've never felt compelled to write for an audience. I write what I write and HOPE there is an audience. I experienced this with a critically endangered rare-pair I wrote fore. About an audience of 10 there, but I write the stories I want and get inspiration for.

Thanks for the ask! This was really difficult, but also really fun!

#ask games #ask answered

[lilacsandwhiskey]

Hello sweets! Don't know if you know but Drew is still in NC, hanging with his family to celebrate Mackayla's engagement and I just know you could write something so good about it. Maybe reader is a friend of hers but she's never met Drew, only saw him on photos and thought he's super handsome— so this would be the first time reader and Drew meet and there's just an instant connection there. Reader being so normal, not treating Drew any differently just because of his job and he's so infatuated by that so after, maybe, a little girls trip and Drew hanging with Logan and the rest of the men of the family all day all of you come together for a massive dinner and drink and eventually reader just blurts out how handsome she thinks Drew is, how he must have girlfriend and how she could never even try to shoot her shot because— look at him & he hears it and maybe they kiss? I don't know, I know you can do this just right. No pressure though if you don't want to write it. Love you!!! 💓💓💓

hi babe, i changed it up juuuust a bit, i hope you don’t mind 💛 being from NC, i absolutely LOVED writing this. thank you so much for sending it my way. ilysm 💛

Hometown Girl

Pairing: Drew x reader

Warnings: language, alcohol, cheesiness

Drew knew it was impolite to stare.

But the moment you walked through the door into the foyer, everything his mama ever taught him flew out the window.

Hands stuffed in his pockets, standing in the corner with the rest of the guys as the girls are gushing over Mackayla’s newest jewelry addition - an engagement ring - he finds himself drifting out of the conversation. His focus has found you in the midst of the waves of congratulations to his sister and soon-to-be brother in law. Logan catches him eyeballing, giving him a quick jolt to the shoulder, when Drew hesitates his attention, but eventually brings it back to the conversation in front of him.

“Dude, wanna men it anymore obvious?” Logan joins Drew for a drink in the kitchen. “Do you see her? Holy shit.” “That’s y/n. Mack is with her like all the time.” “Since when?” “Since like two years ago?” Drew fumbles with his mind, trying to regain any recognition. “I’d remember her.” Drew states. “You probably haven’t met her. Mack posts on her story all the time with her, but you know, social media is nonexistent to you. Just go talk to her, she’s super chill.” Logan urges before making his way back into the living room.

Drew catches your eye almost immediately as you walk into the kitchen. “Care if I scoot by you?” You give him a small smile as you cross by the kitchen island to grab a drink. “Oh yeah, sorry.” Drew keeps attempting to move his eyes anywhere but you but it doesn’t seem possible - you’re quite literally captivating.

“Have, uh, we met before?” Drew starts. You’re looking at the drink options, quickly grabbing one before closing the fridge. “I don’t believe so, but I can assume you’re Mack’s brother, considering the thousands of photos on these walls of you four.” You shoot with a grin. “Good eye.” “I’m y/n.” You stick out a hand for Drew to take, in which he simply does. “Drew.”

The conversation moves rapid as the two of you slump against the counter, others moving around the two of you as if either of your world’s only contained the two of you in this moment. Drew learned quite a bit about you - how you met Mackayla, how you grew up not too far away, just a few towns over. Drew asked many questions, never wanting to overstep, but he was completely and utterly in awe over you and he had no idea why.

“I see you’ve met Drew.” Mackayla grins as she walks into the kitchen. “I have, he’s nicer than you say he is.” “Hey!” Drew looks to his sister who is laughing. “He’s nice to everyone but me!” “That’s what brothers are for.” Drew moves quickly the mess up Mackayla’s perfectly set hair, earning a slap across his arm. “Shit, that ring has enhanced the power.”

As the three of you continue talking, Drew is pleased to find out you’re also coming with them to the Panthers game the next day. “Oh, so you’re a Panthers fan?” Drew starts as the two are left alone again. “Hometown team, you have to be.” You grin. “Or are you just a fan of McGaffrey?” Drew teases. “Psh.” You roll your eyes. “Come on, you gotta look at him and just know he’s good looking. Pulling tons of girls.” “And? That’s sexism, Drew!” You say with a laugh. “Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I can’t watch football without another reason other than it’s football. You’re handsome, too, you know. I’m sure you’re pulling girls all the time too, but you don’t say someone watches something you’re in because you’re hot.” You say, pushing back with a laugh. “I do recall you telling me you’re an actor, correct?”

Though Drew wants to push back, he’s completely stuck on the fact you just admittedly called him handsome. He feels heat rise to his cheeks as he shakes his head. “You’re right, you’ve got a point.” “What, about you being handsome?” You tease. “You’re something else.” Drew replies.

The night continues with you being pulled for pictures, Mackayla’s hints at early wedding planning, and plans for the next day. As the night comes to an end and you prepare to leave, Drew says his goodbyes last. You notice him linger around a little longer. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I might just wear a McCaffrey jersey just for you.” You laugh. “If you show up with a Cam jersey or a McCaffrey jersey, I’m going to politely ask you to go home.” Drew jokes. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

——————

As planned, you meet up with the girls before tailgating for an early breakfast filled with mimosas. After your prior conversation with Mack’s brother the night before, you felt compelled to… dress up a little.

Following suit with the girls, dressed in black and blue, you made sure to wear your best everything. You couldn’t deny the attention from the Starkey brother was nice.

As you walked up to the truck, coolers piled on the back, you didn’t miss the way Drew looked you up and down. You give him a smile, saying hello to Logan and Garrett as everyone falls into conversation.

“Okay, I’m dying to see the back of your shirt.” Drew says. You proudly turn around, feeling Drew sweep your hair from your back. “Can’t argue with Anderson.” You shrug, bumping your shoulder with his.

Many beers later and a climb through the stadium, the six of you are yelling at calls, laughing, and throwing back drinks. “I’m gonna go find some food.” You say, feeling the alcohol drive into your system. “I’ll come with.” Drew pipes up. No one questions the absence of the two of you as you go together.

The two of you stumble into each other, alcohol making itself present to the two of you. You find yourself hiccuping, causing both of you to fall into giggles. Drew pulls you beneath the stands as you almost run into someone. “Careful.” He half whispers. “Whoopsie.”

Drew has you pulled into his chest as the crowds of people walk around you. “I really wanna kiss you right now.” You raise your eyebrows and grin. “Take me on a date first, Starkey.” You jokingly poke his chest. “How do you know if you wanna take me on a date? What if I’m a bad kisser?” “Hmmm…” You draw out, hand on your chin. “Maybe you’re right.”

That’s enough for Drew to crash his beer coated lips against yours, the two of you giggling between kisses. As you pull back, Drew’s eyes flutter open. “Was that good enough for a date?” “I think so, but I’m not the one telling Mackayla.” You say pointedly as you spin around away from him, looking back only to wiggle your eyebrows. “Nose goes, Starkey.” You say, pressing your finger to your nose. Drew only shakes his head, running up behind you. “We’ll see about that.”

babes: @pogueslandia @luversgirl @gryffindorpouge11 @lurkymurker @marveloussensations @graysonsbde @k-k0129 @westrnwoods

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey obx

[ratcandy]

Subcon Forest Analysis

Hi everyone I'm here to spill my aggressive overflowing thoughts on Subcon Forest and what it represents because it's been driving me insane since I finished the Sleepy Subcon time rift. Okay let's go. Obvious spoilers for AHIT ahead so proceed with caution.

This is also very, very long.

Disclaimer/warning: I will be discussing abusive/unhealthy relationships in this analysis. I mean. Vanessa. Come on. Also, there is a section on the nooses, and that delves, of course, into mentions of suicide. It will be sectioned off and easily skipped, but if you'd rather be safe and skip the entire post, that's completely understandable! Please stay safe. <3

Alright. Main point to be had here:

Subcon Forest is a giant extended metaphor for Snatcher's mind and character.

You all get to now listen to me spout nonsense about metaphors and symbolism because I'm a sucker for analysis and I'm given an opportunity to go ham. So perish.

The Ice

Let's start with the most obvious and most glaring thing in Subcon. The ice. It's everywhere. Not just outside Vanessa's manor, either; no, it's throughout the village, too. Shows up in the well and in random locations sprinkled about. When it comes to literal plot, we know that ice is just what lingers after Vanessa's wintery curse on Subcon. But going deeper and analyzing the meaning behind it?

Well, let's look at this from the perspective I've suggested. Subcon Forest being an extended metaphor for Snatcher's mind and character. A symbol for Vanessa then litters his mind, enough where it's certainly noticeable at first but blends in more easily once more of Subcon is unlocked to Hat Kid. This is clearly meant to be his lingering trauma, whether or not he wants to acknowledge it. Which he doesn't, as he never mentions it directly in his forest (that I can recall). Her influence plagues him, as to be expected with the traumatic experiences he went through with her. Breaking the ice is something Hat Kid must do in order to fulfill the wishes of the Fire Spirits (another subject I'll get into shortly), which, if self-indulgently playing with the found family idea, could mean that Hat Kid is helping him heal; if indirectly. Even if fulfilling the Fire Spirits' wish to die is... counterproductive, in that measure, which I'm now getting ahead of myself so hold on a sec!!

Vanessa. Ice. Everywhere. Traces of it all over his forest. That's the effects of an abusive relationship! Especially in a worst-case scenario where... yknow! One party in the relationship dies! So of course ice would be everywhere.

In and of itself, ice is a common symbol in literature and other forms of media. In this case, it's presented as an antagonistic force; emphasis is placed upon freezing and the harm that comes with it. The cold is unwelcoming, threatening, merciless. Snow can act as an insulating force, at least, but ice cannot. It can only make things colder.

A slight stretch: Seeing as this game deals a lot with time shenaniganry, I'm not sure if it'd be too out of left field to connect "freezing" with the theme of time. Yknow. Frozen in time. Both parties here, Snatcher and Vanessa, would be in this frozen state. One largely repressing it and never fully moving on, and the other doomed to her isolation ever since the event in question. They never moved past that moment after the Prince and florist's interaction.

The Fire Spirits (& the Portraits)

I'll put a slight warning here for suicidal ideation, if only because... it's the Fire Spirits we're talking about. It's not as grossly in-detail as the noose discussion will be, though, so make of that what you will.

To me, the Fire Spirits are a very interesting case. After all, they're fire. They're a direct contrast to the ice, thus being the only thing we're shown that could potentially melt it. The Fire Spirits, in my opinion, represent hope or a strength to continue. A strength to move on after troubles of the past.

...And that hope wants to die.

The Fire Spirits wish to burn out, to leave this mortal coil and abandon the forest to the cold. They make no effort to melt the ice, they simply dance, blissfully ignorant towards their surroundings. This being a metaphor for Snatcher's own hope for moving on is made all the more obvious by the fact he wants them gone. The first contract is to kill the Fire Spirits, to kill the hope. Perhaps he believes that sort of thing to be fruitless or naïve, so it only clutters his mind or has him foolishly optimistic at points. So, get rid of it. And the hope is happy to oblige.

(That, or their willingness to leave the forest to its own suffering and not aid in the ice's thaw angers him. Besides the whole "bark bark growl I can't get to parts of my forest because of them!!" which... also could represent a naïve hope clouding his judgement, not allowing him to see a bigger picture. But hope can't all be lost if one wants to move forward...)

A little side-tangent now on the portraits! And it's another slight stretch but the idea is in my head and I can't let it go. Portraits are another common symbol, usually being a physical representation of a memory or idea. For our purposes, let's say they're memories. I know in canon they appear to just hold souls captive or something but for now we're just Ignoring That(tm). The Fire Spirits have to burn the portraits to disappear. See where I'm going with this, maybe?

Instead of handling bad memories (or perhaps memories of the past in general) in any healthy manner, Snatcher chooses to forget/repress them, which just allows his hope to progressively die out.

I'm really hoping this is making sense because it makes a lot of sense to me but I might be insane rn

The Fact that this is a Forest

Forest symbolism breakdown! What's a forest usually mean in literature? "Traditionally, the forest has come to represent being lost, exploration and potential danger as well as mystery and 'other worldliness'." Okay. Yeah. Fair enough. That certainly works with the whole aesthetic we've got going on. Wood usually is life, growth and strength. But the trees of subcon are all dead. So what about that? It stands for death, big whoop, very spooky, we know Snatcher's dead and so are the children, yadda yadda wowie wowie. But. :) The trees in Subcon look a lot like trees that were scorched in a forest fire. Don't believe me?

(You could also argue they're just regular marsh/swamp trees bUT SSHHSUUHSH HANG ON HEAR ME OUT LOOK LOOK,)

What I believe to have happened was a controlled fire to rid the forest of the majority of its ice and snow. Likely done by Snatcher. It leaves behind a very desolate, depressing, barren scene... but. What else do dead/burnt trees symbolize? Rebirth. After all, controlled fires happen to make way for new trees to take the place of old ones. Some trees only drop seeds in fires/hot temperatures, so new ones take root and begin anew. Weird. It's almost like... I dunno. Snatcher was given some sorta second chance, given he's not just a corpse in Vanessa's cellar. So were the subconites. Another life given then by Snatcher. All connected I tell ya!!

Generally, aside from that, forests have many connotations. Mystery, isolation, claustrophobia; a place to dwell on regrets, or the past; to worry over one's future; to seek escape from or escape inside of... hmgmrnmm!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- T / W -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The Nooses

The t/w is given at the top and another cut-off point will follow the bottom of this, for those that would like to skip. This will delve into talk of suicide and abusive tactics used by abusers. Please don't read if it will upset you or make you feel unsafe!!!

Personally, I cannot stand the nooses, but that's just due to my own triggers. Were there a way to hide those from the game or replace the damned talking ones with anything else. I would take it. In a heartbeat. But I can still appreciate the potential analysis to be had with them. So now i'm gonna talk about it despite how uncomfortable it will make me to do so. yEa

So, what about 'em? There are three types of nooses seen in Subcon. At least that I remember but I didn't really go looking for them. Empty ones, ones containing empty subconites, and the talking ones.

Nooses in general obviously can hint towards suicidal thoughts or behaviors of the characters that interact with them. If saying Subcon is Snatcher's mind, it could suggest that he suffered from some sort of suicidal thoughts in life (or currently, if second death is possible... or if he never truly died... or maybe he's trying to figure that out...which has given me... a separate idea...uh oh). But. And hear me out. Different perspective.

A talking noose. I hate them with a fiery passion that is unmatched. But think of the packed symbolism of a noose that talks. And think more about what it says. "I wouldn't mind being strapped around a cute neck like yours." "Be careful now, I don't want to see you meet a miserable end anywhere, but with me." Oddly, a lot of what the noose says seems almost... endearing? One could argue it's a way of luring someone to put it around their necks, which in and of itself is a whole lot to unpack when it comes to suicidal thoughts beckoning one forward; painting itself as something romantic, almost. But. Here's a wild idea, now. What if the nooses, at least the talking ones, are another symbol for Vanessa?

They're tinted blue, after all. While Vanessa's scheme is more red, one could argue two things: One, ice. Blue. Ice. yeah. Or two, the fact that Snatcher's scheme is more purple. Blue and red... make... purple. So, for all we know, Snatcher's current state was a compound effort between suicidal thoughts and Vanessa's treatment of him. Perhaps he even found a way to put himself out of his misery before freezing/starving to death. (I know he has dialogue that argues against that, but... are we certain Snatcher would be the kind to admit suicide over freezing to death?... I don't think so.)

At any rate, a common threat by those in "control" of an abusive relationship is that of killing themselves should the other person not do as they desire. It's a cruel form of emotional manipulation to get their way, worse off if the other party is an empathetic individual. As a person who has been the empathetic individual in relationships like this... I would know. I've been here, unfortunately So, it's not completely out of the question to say Vanessa could've used some tactic like that, even before the whole... cellar ordeal. Did she? I dunno. I'm tossing ideas around. But if she did, the threats of such would sit around in the Prince's mind easily. Even if she has a reputation of not going through with it. It doesn't matter. That shit sticks with you forever, that scare, the potential of it ever being true, is horrifying and it ruins you. I'm projecting, Squirtle.

Still. A noose cannot hang itself. It has to have a victim.

...yea.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- T / W PASSED -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Misc. Ideas

- The spiders: Aside from the usual things spiders can be chalked up to symbolizing - toxicity, alluring danger, just... general pain - I like the potential wordplay that can happen here. Yknow. A black widow. Say the Prince and Vanessa were married when one died. What would that leave Vanessa? A widow. ...She's red and black, too. Yknow. Like a black widow. HA wordplay is fun isn't it?

- Snatcher's tree: Love this place, love sitting in here. But not the point! The inside of Snatcher's tree is such a harsh juxtaposition to the rest of Subcon that it kinda throws ya off guard. After all, the dark, purples and blues then contrasted with the bright warm colors of the inside. Even the music switches over. The thorns outside aren't present indoors. Ohh yeah this is gonna be on the nose as hell but the Tree(tm) is 100% representing Snatcher's appearance/put-on personality vs. his truer nature. Spooky outside with thorns, foreboding, unwelcoming. Then the more comfortable interior. VULnerable. Have I even mentioned that the tree is HOLLOW I mean COME ON. The sturdiness of that tree? Nonexistent. He's not a sturdy guy at all no matter how he fronts

- Intrusions are unwelcome: Snatcher does not like the fact that Hat Kid sticks around in his forest. His personal space. His mind. In fact he tries desperately to get rid of her after their fight, not wanting her presence in his forest at all. He has no problem providing more contracts later on with the Death Wish thing, and he finds great entertainment in messing around with Hat Kid, so it's not just a weird sudden hatred he has for her; it's the fact that. After she's finished being useful, he no longer wants her around, lest she find some things she shouldn't find. Now he's just uncomfortable with her in his personal boundaries. Could just be a denial that she's helped him heal (breaking ice, stealing from Vanessa, being something interesting for his kids to interact with) or just not really wanting a child to get wrapped up in. All that. Most likely the former. Considering the amount of joke-hints he drops regarding his background during his Death Wish dialogue. I see you funny man, making jokes out of your trauma as a coping mechanism. Punts him

Annnd I think that's all I got, for now! I'll make an update post if I get any more sporadic ideas. If you read this whole thing, thank you!! and also!! Wow that was a lot!! Hell world. Please feel free to elaborate on any of my points or debate with me on em!! I'm always open to other ideas, just be aware that if I disagree I am not shy when it comes to debate hehehe, tho I won't be aggressive to any extent I prommy!!

Alrighty. goes to sleep goodnight

#clamtalk #VERY long ramble #a hat in time #snatcher #ahit snatcher #subcon forest #vanessa ahit #ahit #analysis #the prince ahit #goes crazy. goes insane #ask to tag #i'm frazzled I can't add more tags I'll do so later

[burtlederp]

Writing Blurb 2

Heyyyy this is actual whump! Got an idea for a thing, decided to write it out and post it for all y'all to enjoy. It's not my best piece of writing, but it's better than nothing.

TW minor gore, violence, blood, knives... uh idk, if I missed something, someone tell me lol. Hope y'all enjoy!

Moe leaned against the wall, huddled in a corner, eyes squeezed shut. His brown, shaggy hair lay in clumps on his bloodied head, his hands bound behind his back, chest rising and falling with shuddered gasps. Broken ribs made every lung of air agony, while his head throbbed, his sore, raw wrists protesting being tied back any longer. But he ignored the pain, just trying to focus.

The demon, the spirit, the ghost, the monster that haunted his mind had been so much louder since the torture had started. It howled and screamed and bellowed constantly, slamming its claws against the mental cage he had put it in. It wanted out. But Moe didn't want to lose his body, not to it. 

The door screeched open, causing Moe to flinch, pressing his cheek against the wall. "N-no…"

"Yep, I'm back," His captor said casually, shutting the door behind himself. "Did you miss me?" He asked sweetly, standing over Moe's weak and huddled form. His face soured when his captive didn't reply.

"Open your eyes and answer me," He growled, a hard slap connecting with Moe's exposed cheek. He gasped, not expecting it, and did as he was told, forcing himself to raise his head and look his captor in the eyes, lip quivering.

"P-please, no more…" He whispered, voice hoarse from screaming. He couldn't take it. Not anymore. He had had enough. One more waterboarding session, one more set of lashes or beatings, and he'd lose control. 

"Yeah, sorry. Not an option." The captor reached down and grabbed a handful of Moe's hair, yanking him to his feet. He whimpered, knees barely able to support himself, muscles weak. His captor smiled at him, turning his head slightly to see all of Moe's face.

"I like how you're looking, Momo." He nodded. "We're not quite there, but close," He suddenly yanked Moe's hair again, knocking Moe's skull against the concrete wall. He gave a choked gasp, sliding to the floor. 

"I just want to make sure, for this next video we send, you," The torturer punctuated his word with a kick to Moe's stomach, knocking the wind out of his chest. "Look," Another kick, right on top of the first. "Like," Yet another. "Hell." The captor hissed with glee, and his kick went higher, into Moe's upper chest. He coughed, gasping for air, curling into a ball, struggling to focus, but it was difficult when your brain wasn't receiving enough oxygen.

Breathe, Moe, Breathe… Don't… You can't let him win… He thought desperately, but the beast disagreed. 

Let me out, and I can save you from him, It tempted. Moe swallowed, peering weakly up at his captor, who was reaching for him.

"No…" He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut again as he was lifted by the shirt and dragged to the middle of the floor.

"Now let's see you, yes," He crouched, turning Moe's head side to side, rough fingers squeezing his bruised jaw. Moe clenched his teeth, trying to bite back tears. What was going to come next? How long would this last? Was anyone coming for him? 

"Oh, come now, you can cry," His captor's voice was full of false kindness, a hand gently brushing hair off of Moe's face. Moe looked up at him, heart pounding, trying to breathe without choking on blood. 

"Please… P-please… No more… I can't…" Moe begged, voice cracking. The captor pulled out a pocket knife, flipping out the blade, smiling as they leaned in close. 

"Y'know, you're rather handsome," He said, wiping blood off his captive's chin, who tried to pull away from his grasp in vain. "Too bad that won't be the case anymore. I want to know what you look like with a scar…" The knife's point pressed against the cheekbone, just below Moe's left eye. He whimpered, trying to jerk away.

"Ah-ah, don't move, or I might put out your eye," The captor warned, and Moe held still, eyes shut, tears beginning to well up, waiting, waiting, waiting for the knife to go in. 

Let me take the reins, A slimy voice said in the back of his mind.

"No…" Moe whispered, and the knife sunk into his flesh, causing Moe to let out a pained cry. 

I will protect you, The voice insisted. 

You won't, you won't, Moe tried to remind himself. "No, no, no…!" He wailed behind his teeth.

"Yes! Very yes," His captor grinned, dragging the knife down his face. Moe shrieked, trying to keep his jaw still. He felt hot, sticky blood, his own blood, flow down his face, pooling in his ear and crawling down to the back of his neck. He could feel his hands being crushed beneath him, bent and twisted in the wrong way, threatening to give at any second. His gasps only made everything worse, forcing broken ribs to expand with his chest, pulling the pieces further apart.

The captor twisted and yanked the knife out from Moe's jaw, prompting another gasp. Tears began to flow down his face. He couldn't help it. 

Let me out! The voice shouted. 

"No…" He moaned, and screamed as suddenly the knife was buried into his arm, and twisted. He arched his back, trying to pull away, but he couldn't, a hand painfully gripping his other arm to keep him in place. His captor was enjoying this, loving every second of Moe's pain. 

LET ME OUT!

"No!" Moe sobbed, and howled as the blade was removed, then was pierced through his ear. He couldn't do this. Moe just couldn't. 

LET ME OUT!!!

"No! No, I can't, please…" His breathing hitched with every sob, every breath a gasp for air. 

"We're almost done," His captor said softly, and began to drag the knife across Moe's forehead. 

LET ME OUT!!

Moe just cried, unable to fight anymore. He drew into himself, eyes stinging as blood flowed into them. 

"There," The captor leaned back, closing the knife. "You look half-dead. Perfect." He got to his feet. "I'll be back in a minute with the camera, you baby. Don't move an inch!" He laughed, exiting the room.

Moe lay on the floor, feeling his grip on the chains of the beast loosening. He couldn't do this. He couldn't. It was too much.

"I yield," He cried to the empty room. "I yield."

Steven hummed to himself, fiddling with the camera as he walked down the hallway. He had washed his hands, he had his cool mask, the tripod was tucked under his arm. He wouldn't film too much, he didn't really feel like editing today, all that was needed was an update, anyway. Keep the buyers aware that every second they weren't here, every moment they spent unable to find him, their friend was closer to death. 

He opened the door to the cell, cheerily calling to his captive. "Moooe, I'm ba--" He stopped. Moe wasn't here. There was blood on the floor, still fresh, where he had just been, but he himself was not in the room. Steven turned, looking down the hallway, feeling anger bubble in his stomach. How?! He thought, about to step back out, when a drop of warm liquid plopped onto his head. He stopped, reaching up to his face to gather the wet on his fingers. Pulling away, he found blood there. 

Steven looked up, and didn't have enough time to scream before a dark body slammed down on him, smashing him into the concrete floor. Teeth sunk into his shoulder, clawed fingers digging into his throat, but he wasn't able to cry out, all the air knocked from his lungs. The attacker yanked back, taking a chunk of Steven's flesh with them in their teeth. Feeling the grip of it loosen slightly, Steven scrambled free, cutting his hands on the sharp pieces of the broken camera as he crawled to the opposite wall, pressing himself against it as he tried to breathe. Finally able to see his attacker, he involuntarily shrieked in fear. 

There was his captive, but it wasn't. Moe sat, or rather crouched, but his eyes were black, glowing yellow rings set on their prey. His back had warped, a couple vertebrae too many now, his limbs seeming longer than before. His fingernails had disappeared, instead his fingers now giant, sharp claws. The bloodied, mutated form of Moe grinned at him with razor-sharp, needle-like teeth, holding his flesh in its mouth.

It suddenly stood--yes, it was definitely taller now, its feet had grown longer and were clawed too--staring down at Steven. The light behind its head, he could only see the yellow circles of its pupils, the rest of its face in shadow. He heard it swallow.

"It's been a looong time since I was in control," Moe's voice came from it as it stretched, but it was drier, raspier, more sinister. "Feels nice, I'll admit. I see why you were enjoying it." Blood dribbled down its face and its neck, from new cuts and from its lips.

Steven stared up at the monster in fear, wishing he could sink into the floor. He hadn't prepared for this. He had no plan. But he wasn't going to die without a fight. He swiped his leg under those of the monster, knocking it off balance. It stumbled to the side as Steven pushed himself off the wall, staggering out of the cell as fast as he could, breathing hard, holding his shoulder with one hand. Blood was already spilled down his front, but he ignored the pain of it. He had to run, he had to get away.

He heard the sound of clawed feet scraping against the ground, heard snarls of something inhuman behind him. He tried to run faster, but it felt like a bad dream, the sounds getting closer no matter how fast he ran. He screamed, panic rising up into his throat. He was silenced abruptly as he was tackled, those awful, wicked clawed hands wrapping around his throat, tight enough to cut off air. He struggled, flailing in the beast's grip, but it was so much stronger now. It turned him over, staring down at him with those terrible eyes, that horrifying grin. It moved its hands, one slipping quickly up to his forehead, and the other pressing down so hard on his chest he could almost feel his ribs snap, leaving his throat exposed. Steven's eyes widened. 

"N-no, no, please, no, NO--!!" The dying wailings were cut short as those sharp teeth ended him. There was no voice now, just the sound of a monster, feasting. 

#whump #torture #mine #my writing #whump writing #writing blurb #burtleblurb #monster #possession #inner demon #gore #blood #whump community

[cero-blast]

Your post about Gin "messing with people's heads" makes me think, doesn't this also apply to Ulquiorra? He also psychologically tortured Inoue, don't you think it's hypocritical to say Gin's actions don't nullify the bad things he did, but say that UH is good/not toxic? I'm not trying to hate on you, I don't ship anything in Bleach, I just wanted to know why Gin is considered a bad inexcusable guy but Ulquiorra's relationship with Inoue is glorified?

This will get… really long. I’m genuinely sorry it’s this long.

I never said Ulqiorra did nothing wrong (though it’s fair to say I didn’t happen to specifically point it out), or that UH is a ship with many positive feelings associated to it. That would be… an interesting take. I hope you don’t think I think that. But I also need you to understand that I don’t base my taste in ships on what I desire/consider healthy in real life. They exist in the context of the canon — not interchangeable with reality considering the existence of superpowers, ghosts, semi-human creatures and time warping — and that’s where it ends for me. Applying the dynamics in my ships to any situation other than the precise one of Bleach’s canon would make them fundamentally different.

I’ve wanted to mention this about Ulquiorra for a while now and I’ll take the occasion to do so. It’s a mistake to put him in the same framework as a human or shinigami. (The latter two also have their differences but based on observation shinigami seem to behave in a much more human-like manner compared to hollows/arrancars.) He’s practically incapable of understanding what empathy is or find any good reason not to hurt other people, which is why it’s surprising when he manages to grasp even a shred of the concept right before dying. Hollows are born from experiencing such severe pain that it distorts their whole ‘essence’, so something has gone terribly wrong with them emotionally by definition, whether they evolve to arrancar form or not. Ulquiorra’s aspect of death, his ‘theme’, is emptiness — characterized by complete neutrality towards everything. Since a person with a healthy mindset tends to focus on danger and negative events, neutrality often comes across as immoral for being equally conceding towards moral right and moral wrong. The point is, Ulquiorra’s motivations for provoking Inoue had nothing to do with him taking joy in causing pain to her. In fact, it’s hinted he’s not even fully aware he’s doing it, like the scene where he tells Inoue he’d laugh at her friends’ foolishness in her place. He’s unaffected by most things AND has difficulty placing himself in others’ perspective, which results in him assuming everyone around him would be unaffected. The only thing that factored into him doing just about anything was curiosity, the need to fill the void, however you want to put it. If a human or shinigami behaved the same way he did around Inoue, it would come across in a vastly different way and I’m not sure it would even interest me as a ship. Ulquiorra is not only a hollow, but a hollow with a particular impediment in understanding how others feel, and this is an integral part of him as a character, of his interactions, of UH, of anything regarding him. I know it’s funny as a fandom meme to act as if he were human, but he’s NOT and this needs to be kept in mind.

This applies to any arrancar or espada, really. It’s tempting to judge them on the same basis as enemies who are closer to humanity, mainly because of their appearance and intellect. But this is the trick itself the narrative plays, a progression that has been present in Bleach since the start: it created a human/monster (shinigami/hollow here) dichotomy, then spent the longest arc deconstructing it by blurring the lines between the two. It doesn’t matter how smart and eloquent the espada manage to get, the only productive way of interpreting them is as people who are missing a very core part of their personality, so someone severely psychologically ill. (I say this as someone who has their own problems, before it gets misinterpreted as condescension.) Should this absolve them from punishment? Bleach says a very clear no. They almost all get killed by shinigami, in Ulquiorra’s case Ichigo specifically — Ichigo, who, by his own admission, empathized with everyone he fought and even gets angry at Yammy for speaking ill of Ulquiorra after his death. (I don’t want to start arguing about how he was in hollow state when he defeated him. He would have killed Ulquiorra either way if he continued to stand in the way of protecting his friends.)

In summary, the espada aren’t human. Ulquiorra isn’t human. It’s unrealistic to expect him to behave like a human. You’re free to pick who you want to have compassion for among Bleach’s positive and negative characters and if you decide Ulquiorra is irredeemable in your opinion, that’s fine — many characters would agree. But at the very least it can be objectively said that Bleach spends a lot of time presenting ‘evil’ characters’ perspectives as nuanced and explicable instead of writing them off. It gives the audience a choice in the matter. A core message of the entire story is that we’re subjective and maybe we’ll never manage to see the world the same way as someone else, but that’s fine and it doesn’t make us all that different; hollows can become *almost* shinigami, shinigami can become *almost* hollows, and they both have ways to relate to one another while retaining the insurmountable differences and even fighting and killing each other.

Now, onto Gin. First off, you seem to be under the impression that I don’t like him as a character. That couldn’t be further from the truth; I only said it in the tags because I figured saying it in the post would have sounded like making excuses, which is not what the post was about. I don’t know if I would call him a ‘good’ or ‘bad’ person. All I know is that I really enjoyed him as a character and I could see how he evoked sympathy — in the tragic way antagonists do when they get some sort of redemption. I noticed it’s a common tool in fiction to make an impact on the audience, I suppose because we’re happier when we see ‘bad people getting fixed’ rather than someone already good doing more good things. It’s a Prodigal Son type of thing; can be argued about but it definitely makes an impact.

Gin is a quintessential ‘mysterious type’; he has a long-running plan that he executes throughout almost his entire life without ever consulting with anyone (an important detail). He had a hypothesis on what would be the most effective way to kill Aizen and constructed a convoluted plan based on it — a plan where the ends would have justified the means in many, many situations, and that required causing problems to a lot of people. He had, however, no certainty that what he was doing would lead to the desired results (which it then didn’t…). A lot of his provocation was a means to create a certain image of himself and there’s a big question of where to draw the line there, whether all of that was absolutely necessary. Leaving to Hueco Mundo and technical demonstrations of loyalty were, sure, but mocking Rukia on her way to being executed? He considered keeping everything a secret a prerequisite for things to work out — presumably because if he talked to anyone, Aizen could have noticed — but was it, really? Many of his actions were based on his personal judgement on what would and wouldn’t have ruined the façade, subjective and hunch-based since he didn’t know the outcome for sure.

Gin isn’t inexcusable, but I noticed a lack of emphasis on the damage his actions caused among fans, both because of the chronological order of the story and his affiliation with the protagonists’ side. Because the last thing he did was a good thing, that’s what he’s remembered by, without taking into account the sum total of his interactions with others. He posited himself as vicious until the last moment and did so consciously. Ulquiorra had a very, very gradual progression in the way he talked to Inoue, which doesn’t make it less rude and traumatic, but there’s a difference between him showing up and telling her she ‘has no rights’ and later taking an active interest in her views on the Heart. It would be equally reductive to interpret him by his last moment and nothing else, but all he did before led to that moment progressively, while Gin’s was a very abrupt twist.

My post was a comment on psychology on the most basic, technical level, not a moral judgement. The two are separate in the way we process trauma and that’s exactly what I find interesting. Having strong negative emotions associated to a memory (what I think Kira, Hinamori, Hitsugaya or Rangiku could have had with Gin’s betrayal) creates a very subconscious reaction that can hardly be fixed by suddenly finding out it was necessary for a positive cause, which is why healing from trauma requires years of therapy. Because *in that moment* you didn’t have that knowledge, the pain remains in your memory and it’s not a matter of logical reasoning. Now, I’m not saying Ulquiorra’s interactions with Inoue were numerous or productive enough to properly process the trauma he caused her — the canon info is ambivalent on how comfortable Inoue was around him towards the end of her captivity because there’s both scenes like the famous slapping one *and* her seeming more light-hearted towards Ulquiorra in Unmasked, plus no one has any idea of which came before which. All things considered, I think repeated discussion and an attempt at mutual understanding does a better job at elaborating something traumatic than one single piece of information on why what traumatized you was justified. And note that the *only reason* the understanding between Ulquiorra and Inoue could have been mutual is because Inoue was exceptionally patient, empathetic and willing to face discomfort, way beyond the base level or what should be expected from anyone. Even if it was a *small amount* of *not very productive* discussion, it’s better than one act in my opinion (which most of the people who had some sort of issue with Gin didn’t even directly witness). Which of them is *morally worse* depends on how you draw the lines and define morality and that’s not something I feel qualified to decide.

So, in the end;Ulquiorra:-working towards enemy goals overtly-motivated by curiosity, which can be considered self-oriented-gradual improvement-not fully conscious of the emotional impact of his actions-Inoue considers him an ambivalent presence but “Isn’t afraid”, in her words-half-succeeded, as in: failed the goal of killing Ichigo but sated his curiosity

Gin:-working towards enemy goals on the surface and soul society goals covertly-motivated by attachment to Rangiku and/or revenge, less self-oriented but still focused on close acquaintances -long-running façade of being a terrible person followed by a sudden twist towards the good side-completely aware of everything he’s doing, plan laid out hundreds of years in advance-Gotei 13 don’t interact with Gin throughout HM arc, consider the traitors a lost cause-failed to kill Aizen

Instead of this encyclopedia I could have just written “Gin isn’t irredeemable, I just said he did bad things before”, but I thought too much about it. And I might go through spelling mistakes once I wake up.

#anon #ask #long post

[phantomwarrior12]

And Then There Were Two

This one is for the RVB Angst War ( @rvbficwars ). I was prompted by the lovely @alphachurchiisms, thank you so much for this prompt! I enjoyed writing it! (Also, thank you for helping me figure out my ask box, I was noobing bad. XD) The prompt was: How did the mercenary trio break up? Put your own spin on it.

Summary: “He has a family, Felix. Let him go.” Isaac survives the fall from the Communication’s Tower and recalls their final mission with Mason.

The untold tale of the termination of the mercenary trio.

Warnings: Canon-style of swearing. Angst, cause that’s kinda the point.

Story will also be posted on AO3 under PhantomWarrior99.

Enjoy!

Saudade Masterlist

Part 2.5

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

It's a time he never wanted to remember, a time when everything was simpler, when he had a family, or, something resembling a family.

He could see the memories whenever he closed his eyes. Late night recon missions, witty exchanges over bottles of beer, even dinner with Mason and his family. A soft smile spread across Isaac's lips, quietly remembering Sam's first encounter with Mason's oldest daughter, Melody.

She couldn't have been more than three, an energetic, curious child who shared Mason's midnight black hair and her mother's emerald eyes. She'd wandered up to Sam, hoisting herself into his lap. Isaac would envision the look of discomfort on Sam's face, eyes widened in surprise, expression reduced to complete and utter confusion as the girl began the braid his hair.

He could remember Megan Wu's quiet chiding of the child and Mason's outburst of laughter. Sam had simply remained motionless, too stunned to react and unwilling to disrupt the child's efforts.

"Can I get you anything else?"

The sudden reappearance of the bartender thrust him from his thoughts. He slowly glanced up from his third bottle of beer, drained blue eyes dragging themselves away from the deep brown bottle to the concerned gaze above him.

He shook his head, struggling for balance as he fumbled for his wallet in his back pocket. His fingers clumsily slipping the bills out of the leather folds, lazily tossing them onto the bar, before snatching his drink up and heading towards the door.

"Uh, sir? You forgot your change--"

Isaac waved his hand dismissively over his shoulder as he stumbled out of the bar and started the short trek back to the abandoned apartment.

He was tired, so very tired of it all. The fighting, the nightmares, the bitter reminders that his best friend, the man he'd so cautiously named his brother, had betrayed him. Chorus had been a hell all its own, an agonizing reminder of the war he'd thought they'd left behind.

They. No, he was alone. Again. It wasn't they. It was him. It would always be him.

First, Mason had left. He could still hear Sam defending him, "Damn it, Felix, he has a family-"

"--and what about us? We're not good enough for him? We're not his family?"

"I don't expect you to understand. Just--let him go. His duty is to his wife and children."

He'd been wrong, of course. Mason had a responsibility. It wasn't just to Megan and his kids, it was to him and Sam too. Hadn't they been a family all their own before Mason met his wife?

First Mason, now Sam. Now--now he was all alone. Hell, hadn't been the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. 

He stumbled his way up the stairs, discarding the now-empty beer bottle into the lobby. He crashed through the aged door, shuffling along until he'd collapsed onto the worn mattress, until his heavy head met firm cushion, until his eyes drooped shut, begging sleep to overtake him.

Until his mind sent him back to that fateful day. Their final mission.

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

"Can we please just shoot him?"

"We don't get paid if he's dead, Felix." Sam returned shortly.

Isaac sagged against his seat, arms folded across his chest, irritation etched into his features.

"We're almost there anyway. It would be a waste of ammo at this point." Mason remarked, eyes drifting from the slim mercenary in the passenger seat back to the road.

"It'd be more satisfying." Isaac grumbled, scowling ahead.

"You're only saying that because he mocked you." Mason returned, a hint of humor gracing his tone as he turned into the police station.

"Unless you have a better idea to cover equipment costs, I suggest you keep your weapon pointed away from him." Sam supplied, climbing out of the car to retrieve their captive.

Isaac waved his hands sarcastically, mimicking his partner's comment with an eye roll. Mason smirked slightly, nudging his shoulder before climbing out of the car to assist Sam.

The process had been surprisingly quick. Their captive, a man convicted of multiple homicides, had been worth a large amount of money. It wasn’t until they reached the docking bay that the silence was broken.

"So, last mission was a unanimous success, huh?" Mason slung the massive duffle bag over his shoulder, avoiding their eyes, looking anywhere but his partners.

Sam nodded his silent agreement, checking the equipment in his bag, ensuring the weaponry was secured for travel.

"We'll find another one soon enough." Isaac returned, oblivious to Mason's hesitance, "I caught wind of a company looking for some mercs--something about a planet and alien technology--"

Mason slammed the trunk shut, catching the slim mercenary's attention, "You all right, Wu?"

His fingers tightened around the strap slung across his shoulder, eyes darting to Sam for help. The solemn expression etched into Sam's features mixed with a quiet nod provided little assurance, yet communicated just enough to urge him to speak. He redirected his gaze back to Isaac, "There's not going to be another job, Gates."

Isaac arched an eyebrow, arching an eyebrow, leaning against the door of the car, arms crossed expectantly across his chest, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm retiring. Megan's got another kid on the way, and--she needs me." Mason returned quietly, grey eyes darting to the cold cement beneath him.

Isaac's eyes darted to Sam, who met his gaze coolly, all emotion drained from his eyes, nothing more than a solemn stare. "You knew about this?"

"We've discussed it." Sam returned evenly, voice unflinching.

Isaac stiffened, surprise quickly replaced with rage, "And you didn't tell me. We're partners. We. Fucking. Communicate."

"Gates--Isaac, we didn't want to--" Mason began.

Isaac cut him off, "What the hell, Wu? How long ago was this decided?" His gaze flickered between his partners, his brothers, the only family he'd known in years.

Mason scratched the back of his head, eyes diverted to the cement, "A couple months--"

"A couple of months...that's fucking fantastic!" He paced away a few feet, turning suddenly to shatter the car window with a fury-induced blow, "Dammit!" He spun back to the face the two mercenaries, dismissing the dull throbbing in his hand, "We're partners. I don't care if it's minuscule details, we communicate! You're the one who taught us that, Wu, you said that partners communicate and what did you do? Oh, wait," Isaac allowed a callous laugh, cold, echoing in the quiet parking lot, "you communicated. You told Ortez over there, but not me. What? You don't trust me?"

"Gates--" Mason managed one word before Sam jumped in, thoroughly fed up. He stepped past Mason, hands gripping the v-neck of Isaacs dress shirt, tugging him close, "We didn't tell you because we knew this is how you would react. You're selfish. You're stubborn. We needed you to be willing to do your job, if you had known, you would have fought us the entire mission. We would have never caught that murderer because you wouldn't have wanted to let Siris go."

He shoved the stunned mercenary away, his back meeting the car after a few short, stumbling steps. "It was information that was on a need-to-know basis, and you didn't need to know until now." Sam's voice dropped, a sharp echo in the night.

Isaac started to respond, "I wouldn't have--"

"Wouldn't have what? Wouldn't have pushed Siris to stay? Wouldn't have altered the events of this mission? Wouldn't have fought this?"

Isaac fell silent, eyes directed to the ground, unwilling to meet either man's gaze. Sam watched him sternly for a moment before turning to face Mason.

"Take the ship. Felix and I will find another means of transport." His voice was cold, if Mason didn't know any better, he'd dare suggest tired or resigned.

"You sure?" Mason's question sounded almost tentative, gaze flickering past Sam to Isaac's defeated form.

Sam gave a quiet nod of confirmation, "Go." He held out his hand, giving Mason's hand a solitary shake, a wordless goodbye.

Mason cast one final glance towards Isaac, managing a quiet phrase, "See you around, Gates."

He was met with only silence and a cold shoulder.

Isaac sunk to the ground, glaring at the cement silently as he listened to the retreating boots on pavement. He sat in silence as Sam turned to face him, snatching his bag from the backseat and tossing it to the lean mercenary on the ground.

"Grab your gear. We're leaving." Sam commented shortly, lugging his own bag onto his shoulders by the strap.

Isaac remained motionless, stiff as he fumbled with the strap of his back, silent fury burning in his chest.

"Felix." Sam's tone was sharp, unrelenting, stern. "Get up."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, jaw set as he lifted himself off the ground, slinging the bag across his shoulders, gaze focused on their old ship lifting off and shooting skyward.

"Let's go." Sam started towards another platform, expecting Isaac to follow. Isaac started after him, allowing a few feet of space between them. He waited until they'd secured another ship, until they'd loaded their gear inside, until Sam seated himself in the pilot's seat, until they were roaring out of the space port before he spoke.

"Don't ever do that again."

Isaac's sharp remark caught Sam's attention, he noted the quiet, yet aggravated tone. He arched a questioning eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

"Don't ever hold information back. Next time it could get us killed. Next time--if you ever do it again, I'm out. You'll be on your own."

Sam stole a glance at his partner, the tension in his jaw, the solemn expression he knew was masking his rage, the way he stared straight ahead with a fury-laced glint in his eye.

Sam waited a moment before he spoke, "Understood."

"He shouldn't have left." Isaac murmured,  picking up the data pad, pulling up information about Charon Industries.

"Damn it, Felix, he has a family-"

"--and what about us? We're not good enough for him? We're not his family?"

"I don't expect you to understand. Just--let him go. His duty is to his wife and children." Sam settled back into his seat, hands carefully maneuvering the ship into slip space.

Isaac dared a glimpse of his partner, detecting the pain in his partner's eyes, the pain he no doubt took painstaking precautions to hide. He could never hide the emotion in his eyes, every other part of his body could be relaxed, but his eyes bled sheer agony.

After all their time together, Isaac could read him like a book, or, at least he thought he could.

After a long moment, Isaac turned back to his data pad, skimming over the information and gauging the profit.

He brushed aside the knot in his chest, the aching regret and forced his voice to its usual sarcastic, nonchalant tone before he spoke.

"So, how do you feel about genocide?"

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

Part 2.5

#isaac felix gates #felix mcscouty #felix #rvb felix #samuel 'locus' ortez #rvb locus #mason wu #mason siris wu #rvb #Red vs blue #rvb angst war #my fanfic #sam ortez #samuel locus ortez #samuel ortez #siris rvb #osiris rvb #phantom writes #felix series-saudade