#also BIG despair tones man

[hoshigray]

Pleasurable Practice

Here's what I got: when you're left in headquarters to study for an upcoming language skit, your boss and work crush, Miguel O'Hara, does what he can to help his subordinate. And he does, in more ways than one...

A/n: It's been a week since I saw the film in theaters, and my brain hasn't been the same. I tried very hard not to write for this man, but here we are. Sighhhh, I swear I wasn't this bad when playing EoT (curse you Oscar Issac, and the ATSV art department!!!). And it doesn't help that my social feeds are full of him...Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece! It's WAY longer than I wanted, but I guess that's meant to show how much fun I had writing, hehehe~. Also, ty so so much for 600+ followers!!

Cw: Miguel x fem!reader - some ATSV spoilers so tread carefully - sexual context so minors DNI - fingering (fem! receiving) - cunnilingus - clitoral play (Miguel's fangs lightly brush your clit, but doesn't bite it) - praise - kisses on the stomach - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love; vida/my life) - sexual acts in public - outside intrusions, but you two don't get caught.

Wc: 2.8k

"Hey, Lyla. You sure you wanna leave me here?"

"Aww, you scared something would happen without me?" She chuckles when you shrug. "You'll be fine; everything's been taken care of for today. If something pops outta nowhere, you know where to find Miguel or give me a call. Alright, I'm outta here. Cya tomorrow~."

"Bye, Lyla~" With that, the pixelated woman signs off from your line of sight, and you slump into your chair with a sigh.

It's late at night in Nueva York. The Spider Society headquarters is still active, but fewer people occupy the halls and sectors in these late hours, you being one of them. You're sitting at a conference table by the teleportation room, taking in Margo's shift. But since things are quiet around here, you use this time to work on your homework.

Well, you would've if a pair of hands didn't suddenly come from behind and blocked your vision. "Guess who?"

You shake your head with a smile. "Aren't you supposed to be at Earth-50101 hanging with Gwen and Pav?"

The hands are removed, giving your shoulders a quick rub. "Can't say a quick bye before I'm off?" Hobie Brown walks from behind to sit on the table, avoiding the scattered papers on the surface. "What's all this? School?"

"Yeah," You pick up a paper with color-coordinated dialogues. " I got a reflection to finish and need to read this script for a skit in my modern language class on Wednesday."

"What language?"

"Spanish." You flip the script for him to look at. A giggle slips from you. "Suppose you can't help me, huh?"

Hobie grins. "Yo lo haría si pudiera." Your eyes go big. Of course, the guy who "doesn't believe in consistency" would know a thing or two about other languages.

".....Please stay and help me."

"Can't, perhaps next time." Another heavy sigh as the tall other gets up from the table and opens a portal to Pavitr's universe. "We'll save some snacks to bring back tomorrow. See ya then."

"Bye, Hobie." You groan with your head meeting the table surface as the portal vanishes with Hobie's dismissal. In despair, you lift your head up and proceed with your work.

It's about 11 p.m., and you were able to finish your paper in about two hours. It's now time to work on your Spanish script. Unfortunately, your class partner can't be here (obviously) to say his lines with you, but you two promised to highlight your lines and recite on your own downtime. So you follow through with the blue lines — your lines — avoiding the red lines and announcing all the words to the best you can.

After the third time around, you start to get to the rhythm of it. So in tune with what you're doing, you don't mind your surroundings as you circle around the table with your face glued to your script.

"What're you doing?"

However, it all comes to a halt when a voice startles you. So used to the silence and your own tone that you didn't notice a familiar man creep from behind you. Your eyes widen at the tall and well-built figure before you.

Miguel O'Hara, Spider-Man 2099 and the leader of the Spider Society — your boss who you have a major crush on and is still waiting for you to reply after nearly scaring you to death.

"O-Oh, Miguel, umm," you quickly straighten yourself up, but the heat in your face encroaches. "Sorry, didn't see ya there. I was just looking at this script."

"A script?" He slightly tilts his head, surveying your moves as you sit back at the table. He follows and peers behind your shoulder to see what you're working on. "For what?"

"It's for a skit in my Spanish class. I'm reciting my lines for Wednesday." He nods at your answer, glancing around to see you're alone. "Lyla signed off for a while, but she told me to tell you that if you 'need anyone to put a leash on you,' Jessica would answer the call."

The man narrowed his eyes and sucked his teeth, "of course she said that..." was all he murmured under his breath from his pixelated peer's words. With a heavy sigh, he turns back to the paper in your hand and extends out his. His silent request is answered when you pass him the sheet to skim. A brow is lifted. "Is the skit like some kind of married couple or—"

You confirm. "Yes. Our unit is on relationships, and my partner and I wanted to do a skit where the husband — my partner — comes home and surprises his wife with their favorite flower and then gives a nice speech on how much he loves her." Miguel still reads the script, but you continue on. "Luckily, our instructor said it's not our final where it's required to talk entirely in Spanish. So, we can say some English phrases or words if our brains go blank."

Miguel finally stops examining the script and eyes at you. "I can help."

Huh? "Excuse me?"

"You're the blue lines, right?" Correct. "Then I can be the red lines and help you practice."

Wait, no! "Oh no, there's no need for that, Miguel! I'm sure you're busy looking at the screens on your station and—"

"No pasa nada, Y/n," You gulp when he grabs a chair and sits close to you. "I'll say your partner's parts, and you reply with yours." There's no use in arguing with him out of this, so you just follow suit.

For the past thirty minutes, you and Miguel have been practicing. Sometimes he'll call you out on words you forget or mispronounce, which hurts your little heart being scolded like a child. But then there are times when he praises you for saying something correctly without second-guessing, or he'll ask for a pen to scratch off something and write a better phrase for you to say. And you can tell that your memorization's been improving thanks to his help. Maybe there was no need to be nervous.

The time is now 11:46, and you feel way more confident about this skit than before. Miguel can also tell by how much you've performed that you'll do fine on Wednesday. Guess that should do it. He puts the script down and gets up, heading back to his original post.

"Hey, wanna do the actual skit with me?"

Huh? "What?"

"Well, I was thinking," You squeak. "Maybe we can try acting out the skit without the paper now that I'm kinda getting the hang of it? But, I mean, that's only if you're okay with it, ya know..."

His brows trench down. Miguel knows he shouldn't do it; there are many universes in his post that he needs to keep an eye on in case anything pops off. He can't afford to just act out a scenario for some class. However, when he glances back at you, he faces mixed feelings. Your eyes look at his, nibbling on your bottom lip, and your fingers fidget with each other as you wait for his answer.

Miguel knows he shouldn't...but it won't hurt to comply this one time.

"Fine," your heart skips when he turns back to face you fully. "But don't mention it to Lyla or Jess. I'll never hear the end of it from those two."

"Of course!" You reassure him as you ready yourself, mentally calming the happiness brewing inside down. "You go."

He nods and plays the scene. He acts like he opens a door and holds an imaginary object. "Estoy en casa, cariño."

"Oh, bienvenido a casa, bebé!" You rush to Miguel and give him a hug. You feel him go rigid, and you freeze. Wait, he's still my boss and not my actual partner! Oh, God, I bet he regrets doing this now...Ughhh!! Commit now, cry later!

You quickly improvise and pull him by his spider suit to come close, placing pretend kisses on his cheeks. "Llegas pronto a casa, mi guapo muñeco. Is something wrong?"

Miguel stares at you for a few seconds before he blinks and coughs. "Ahem, Querida, vine temprano porque es tu cumpleaños. Y quería darte esto." The hand with the invisible object comes up, and you take it.

"Dios mío, ¿mi flor favorita en mi día especial?" You give the man a warm smile and place a hand on his cheek, stroking his skin lovingly. Miguel hitches his breath. "Eres demasiado buena conmigo, muñeco. Pero no tenías que regalarme nada."

It takes Miguel a moment, but he coughs once more and returns to the task. "Puede que la flor no fuera necesaria, pero tenía que conseguirla para ti, mi amor." He puts a hand on yours that's still on his cheek, now it's your turn to slow your breathing. "Cada vez que veo esta flor, sólo puedo pensar en ti. No sólo hoy, sino todos los días. Veo todo lo que haces por mí y nunca lo doy por sentado. You are my everything, Y/n. Tú eres mi mundo. Mi luz. Mi corazón. Mi… Mi…"

He stops, noticing your expression and shallow breaths. Your eyes never leave his, mouth agape, and your attention entirely on his words— no, on him. Even in this little act, you dare not move or say something out of turn. Listening to the man before you intently, your hand still in his.

He knows he shouldn't, but Miguel leans into you, and a small gasp leaves you before his lips press onto your soft ones. "....Mi alma."

Your brain short-circuits, the feel of his lips overtaking you. You awkwardly kiss him back, resulting in a moan from Miguel. He grabs your waist while pushing himself forward, making you walk backwards until you hit the table. The bump has you two break the kiss, forcing you back to reality.

Miguel says nothing, and so do you, your eyes honing in on his deep red orbs. Your thoughts go too fast that your head pounds. What? What was that? Did he mean to do that??

"Túmbate."

He captures your attention. "What?"

"Lie down, mi amor." He commands in a stern voice. Hesitance restrains you, yet you still follow orders and sit on the table with your back to the surface. A small smile creeps up on Miguel, and he leans down to plant more kisses on your sweet lips. "Good. Now, say your part."

Slow smooches from your chin to your neck leave you breathless. Although the heat in your face is unbearable, you play along and stick to the script. "My wonderful husband...Y...You are so thought—"

"Se supone que está en español, Y/n." He corrects you. Lifting your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Miguel kisses your exposed tummy while his hand snakes past your bottoms, pressing a finger down on the wet spot of your clothed vulva. Your toes curl as your first moan leaves puffy lips. "Try again."

You intake a deep breath. "Ere...Eres muy considerado con—Mmmm....conmigo." Your bottoms and undergarments are now off, your bare cunt out for Miguel to see. The older man props your legs upward with both hands as he brings his face close to your pussy. He lightly blows on it, and you bite your lip from the cold air. "Keep going, mi vida."

"Cuando....no haya luz en mi—Oooh!!" Miguel flicks your clitoris with his tongue before nestling it between your soaked folds, sucking and laving your essence. "Nnnmp! Mi-Miguel, I can't do thisss...Your tongue, it feels so, so—Oh Christ..."

His ruby eyes peek at your face. "But you were doing just fine, Y/n." The way he says your name feels so sinful, so forbidden. But so pleasing to the ears. "Repeat it."

His tongue goes back to torment your slit. The risque noises the wet muscle makes with your slick-covered chasm ring your eardrums. Ecstatic whimpers fill the space around you, and you grab tufts of Miguel's brown hair when his tongue flicks your clit again. He's impatient, so you concede.

"Cuando no haya luz en mi vida....Haaaahhh, sé que estarás ahí para protegerme." Miguel pushes your tender bud against his teeth. His canine brushing on your pearl, causing you to jerk. "Eres mi sombra...Mi—Ahhhh!....escudo....Mi rey."

He chortles, "Good job, mi alma."

Satisfied with your cooperation, the man sucks on your precious sex as his forefinger nestles between your folds, your slick providing lubricant to naturally push his digit through your entrance. You jolt with a sharp cry, tears falling from your beautiful face.

His tongue and fingers go faster, and your release climbs higher with every lick. The stimulation of your poor cunt and clitoris is hardcore that you come in a few seconds, the walls of your chasm fluttering around Miguel's fingers coated with your personal fluids.

Your heavy pants slow down to steady your body that subsides from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Miguel withdraws his mouth and fingers from you, standing upright to take in your figure.

He scoffs with a tiny grin, licking his lips. "Amorcito."

You open your mouth to say something, but a flash of colors and shapes captures the attention of both of you. Your eyes go wide. Oh no, someone's coming!

With haste, you immediately grab for your bottoms and underwear before taking cover under the conference table, using it to quickly put your clothes back on before someone enters through the portal. That someone was Jessica Drew, making her arrival known by revving her motorbike.

"Jess," Miguel puts on his usually serious face. But on the inside, he's almost as nervous as you. Because he swiftly pulls a chair out to cover his erection lower regions.

"Hey, Miguel! I thought I'd find you here." The woman addresses him when she's done a lap around the table. Her portal vanishes from the scene. "I've been trying to call you through your watch. You not wearing it?"

He looks down at his wrist where it was supposed to be. "...I was using the restroom, so I left it on my station."

"Mmm, I figured." Jessica then notices the paper and backpack on the table. "This is Y/n's stuff, right? Where are they?"

"R-Right here, Jess!" To her surprise, you come out from the table with your bottoms fully secured. "Sorry, I was looking for my pen before packing up." You smile to ease the awkward tension and your racing heart.

"Oh, okay then." Jessica nods to your words and turns to Miguel. "Anyway, I was calling you up because I need backup. The guy I was dealing with somehow switched places with another villain. Took care of the other one, but my guy's elsewhere."

He hums. "Lyla."

"That's me." The yellow-pixelated woman with pink heart-shaped glasses appears once more.

"Where are the coordinates of the anomaly Jess was handling?"

"I'm sorry, you want me to do what?"

"...."

"What's the magic word?" The tiny woman teases him while you and Jessica hold in your laughs.

Miguel's brows furrow with a slight pout. "....Canyoupleasesend—"

"Woah, woah, woah," Lyla gets closer to his face with each word, raising his irritation as she does so. "Little too fast there."

"Can you please give us the co—"

"Already gave it to Jess."

"Then what was the point—"

"You know how much I love to pester ya," her smile doesn't help squander his frustration, not when he also hears the exchanged giggles between you and Jessica. "And call that payback for not having your watch on you."

To avoid their eyes seeing Miguel's situation, he leaves and fetches his watch quickly after being repeatedly teased by the two women. He returns ready with his mask on and the device on his wrist. Lyla and Jess are waiting for him, same with you and all your stuff packed up. It's 12 in the morning now, you have to get home. "Ready?"

"Yup, see ya there." The woman on her bike starts it up. Lyla disappears when the dimension is opened. "Bye, Y/n!"

"Bye, Jess!" You wave goodbye to the woman, who does one final lap before entering the portal to her new destination. And now you're back to being alone with Miguel, who you find looking at you. You gulp and say your thoughts. "Don't worry, I didn't tell them! And, sorry that it happened. I was being a little too close to you in the first—"

"Hey." Miguel lifts a hand to stop you from rambling on further, and you listen. "Your skit. When is it again?"

It takes you aback that he asks, but you still reply. "Wednesday?"

"Hm. Alright then." And with that, he walks to the portal to his next mission. But before he exits, he peers from his shoulder and proclaims something.

"Tell me how you did on Wednesday, then we'll continue with this talk."

#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔 #miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x f!reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x black reader #miguel o'hara fic #spiderman smut #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #spider man 2099 smut #miguel ohara #miguel ohara smut #edit: it's been two days and I'm STILL seeing grammar/spelling errors I'M SO FUCKING TIRED

[lordofdestructionm]

The fear behind the manic grin

I know I have a reputation as a feral Vikdecai account (I mean can you blame me?) but all the characters in Lackadaisy are amazing and the main cast all have their own interesting stories playing out

Case in point the musical, poetic and lovably derranged Rocky Rockaby who thanks to the Pilot (for what will hopefully soon become a full series) a new large audience being introduce to

But there is one moment where the feral energetic grinning persona slips and we see the face a of a broken young man in a state of total despair, before mercifully Mitzi decides to lighten the tone

This is key to understanding Rocky and his motivations

After being abandoned by his father and his mothers death from illness Rocky was raised in his early years for a period of time by his aunt Nina along with his cousin Calvin (Freckle)

However, due to some as yet unrevealed tragedy, Rocky was ejected from the Mcmurray house and spent the following years riding the rails

He stayed in touch with Calvin, writing him letters about his adventures, and as you would expect from a flamboyant personality he exaggerates what a big adventure it was how optimistic he was feeling at this time as he travelled from place to place working various assorted odd jobs between 1921 and 1924

The Lackadaisy Wicki provides a nice breakdown

But of course the reality is quite different. Having no home, no family and no friends outside what brief and fleeting acquaintances he made on the road took its toll

But that changed when he found himself joining Zib's band in 1925 which at that point was playing exclusively for the Lackadaisy Speakeasy. For the first time in years he has not only found somewhere seemingly more long term to be but back in the place he thinks of as home

But even this seemingly positive change does not get to last long. Atlas's death in 1926 throws everything into uncertainty and without its leader and despite Mitzi's best efforts things begin to decline both financially and in terms of manpower.

Those that remain do so for various reasons despite leaving arguably being the smartest option. Rocky does so because he is done with drifting and is determined to hold onto the solid ground he has found no matter what. He makes this desperation clear to Calvin

Though it should be noted while he wants the Lackadaisy to be saved he wants it done on certain terms. Specifically ones where he is the golden boy that saved the day. He is desperate to ingratiate himself to Mitzi. This is in part due to him having a crush on her, but even this is tied to his perception of her as a "damsel in distress" that he can ride in and rescue, and in the process secure a permanant place for himself

This is why in both the pilot and the comic he is so devastated when he sees that she is dissapointed with his efforts.

This is also why in both you can see a barely passive aggresive attitude towards Wick.

Its not just that he is a rival for Mitzi's affection, the friendly wealthy industrialist who clearly has a thing for the beautiful widow threatens to make Rocky and his efforts to be the Knight in shining armour redundant and equally so Rocky himself.

If he invested his money in the Speakeasy he would be the hero and Rocky would just be the clown that tried so hard (risking his life even) but failed, only for some handsome aristocrat to stroll in with his chequebook

Rocky fears being adrift again. Of feeling alone and unwanted again. He is willing to go to extreme lengths to prevent that from happening. To feel wanted, included and loved he will start as many fires and thow as much dynamite and dodge was many bullets as it takes

Lets keep spreading the good word and hopefully our lovable pyromaniac and the rest of the cast will get the long running episodic series they deserve to have their stories told (and of course get more love for the comic)

#lackadaisy #lackadaisycats #tracy j butler #rocky rickaby #calvin mcmurray #freckle #ivy pepper #viktor vasko #mitzi may #wick sable #pilot #comic #atlas may #1920s #cats #gangsters #prohibition #animation

[let-us-cultivate-our-garden]

I had a long argument with someone on whether or not stomping Belos before he dies was better than letting him die pathetically, and I asked myself if that is what fans really believe in... or if they would hail any Belos' death as the perfect one if Dana choose a different one?

They also justify the stomping as being part of horror-comedy genre and that Belos should not have any dignity what so ever because apparently letting him die in despair with no stomping is running the risk of making the audience feel "sorry" for him.

Honestly, these justifications make The Owl House feel more shallow. Like, why shouldn't the audience be allowed to feel sorry for Belos? What is the danger? That people would agree with Belos' views?

Or are we supposed to develop a black and white view of the world akin to a conservative view but inverted? And then hide behind the horror comedy genre to justify less drama? I hate to say it, but Nostalgia Critic is right about Belos being this strange outlier. The show seems to be afraid of actually doing a complex, tragic and yet irredeemable villain.

It doesn't make any sense to argue that Belos' death fits because of toh's genre as a horror comedy because the scene was neither played for horror nor laughs. At best, you have the image of Philip slowly being dissolved by the rain and then Raine's smug "that was satisfying" line. The overall tone of the scene is one of contempt as Philip tries one last plea to Luz only to be snuffed out (and weirdly validated) by the heroes. Its intent is to be cathartic for both audience (though as you know doubt know, YMMV) and the characters.

Frankly, despite its marketing, I don't see toh as either a horror or a comedy because it spends more time on slice of life stuff and high school teen drama and romance. And even when it does go for the horror and comedy, both are rather tepid. You want a real example of a horror-comedy for kids, then go watch Courage the Cowardly Dog or Invader Zim.

The reason why I argue the heroes validated Belos is because in the moment of his death, he clings to the idea that as humans, "we're better than this!" It's a moment of pathetic delusion that is appropriately met with silence but then it's ruined with Eda and Co. barging in with "Well, we ain't!" only to then prove his point by mercilessly stomping an already dying man to death. There's a reason why kid shows usually end with either the villain being imprisoned or not outright being murdered by the heroes. Evil has to die by its own hubris, not get killed by the heroes after the Big Battle when they're no longer a threat. I made a post about the importance of defeating a major antagonist twice.

Belos' death also doesn't work with a "Kill your oppressors" theme because the show isn't about that. The show barely spends any time showing why the EC is bad for the Boiling Isles and Eda is the only named wild witch we see getting harassed by them and even then, it's mostly played for laughs given how inept the coven scouts are (seriously, they're able to quit without fear of repercussions).

I think a reason fans are split on Belos' death is because of differing expectations; the fans who paid attention to Belos and the implication of his backstory and waited for every lie to come crashing down on him since that's what the show seemed to be building up to only to be unceremoniously ignored in the end were no doubt disappointed. Then you have the other fans who hated the character to the point that any gruesome death will do, regardless whether it made narrative or thematic sense or not.

Ultimately, I think the biggest reason his death doesn't work is because Belos fails as a villain.

Belos' status as a colonial puritan only works on a meta-level; it serves a cathartic release for marginialized people to see a representative of real world oppression beaten by queer characters as it fulfills the fantasy of finally overthrowing an oppressive system. The fatal flaw though is that none of this works on a narrative level because the coven system is either treated as a joke or simply a career path one must choose and we never see the disenfranchisement of wild witches. People largely get off scot-free opposing Belos, which undermines his credibility as both a dictator and a villain because no one cares about him until the plot needs them to. Luz doesn't even care about proving he's evil until Hollow Mind, which is halfway through season 2.

Belos as a villain only works if you project your own feelings and desires in wanting to see the Evil Christian/Evil Parent destroyed. While this is extremely satisfying emotionally, it does not make a sound story.

All the reasons why people like his death ("it's great the evil colonizer died so pathetically!" "omg, the white christian colonizer was killed by two queer people and their adopted son!" etc) are all meta reasons. And to be clear, it's totally fine if you thought his death was satisfying. But for many people, it did not work for a variety of reasons, including narrative ones. And that differing opinion should be respected instead of arguing some nonsense like "we have to make our villain as stupid/evil as possible or run the risk of people liking/sympathizing with him."

Belos should have died in a manner that connected back to his original sin: the murder of his brother. All of his lies and delusions and fear of being wrong should have played a part in the finale. He should have not died thinking he was right. He should have died realizing that all he did was for nothing. And that he is to blame. And that there is no one waiting for him back home.

#the owl house #toh critical #toh criticism #emperor belos #philip wittebane #long post #asks

[rose-tinted-glasses671]

Echo Chambers Inside A Neighborhood (ch.2)

read the rest: masterlist

Tag list: @junosbugs @lovelyladymayyy @specialagentmonkey

You fucked up. Big time.

You conveniently forgot to mention to that Simon guy that you had work in the morning, and now he’s on his way over to the flat in five minutes and you need to leave for work in fifteen.

You barely had time to brush your teeth in the morning, throwing on last night’s mostly clean uniform and brushing back your hair before putting it in a ponytail. Possibly the worst decision you made was to promise Erica you’d be at the restaurant this morning. Now you were even farther behind on your schoolwork and doubly stressed because you had a prospective roommate who was gonna see what a mess you were and decide he’d have to pass on living with you.

“FUCK!” you yelled as you hurriedly tried to put your shoes on, the back flap bending down and refusing to go over your heel. Frustration rose and you felt like a pot of boiling water about to pour over the lip of the pan; your anger, stress, misery…everything, amalgamating into a giant soul-crushing sob.

The pair of ugly black non-slip shoes that refused to adjust themselves to your feet were now laying on the other side of the room, the force with which you had thrown them leaving behind a brash scuff mark on the otherwise pristine wall.

An intense pressure built up in your chest and refused to release, your eyes stinging with the onslaught of tears that forced their way down your cheeks. You’d been able to hold it together for the last week, but it was time everything caught up to you.

Your situation, though it could be worse, was not where you wanted to be at this point in your life; twenty-six, looking for a roommate, working a job that barely paid just so you could keep a roof over your head and get the education you so desperately needed. You thought you’d have figured your life out by now.

And you were trying, dammit. There wasn’t a moment in your existence where you hadn’t had to fight for what you needed, and you were sick of it. For once, you just wanted someone to be willing to give something to you.

The despair you were feeling showed no signs of letting up, almost paralyzing you in place as you hugged yourself. Your head now hurt from how hard you were crying, slumped over next to the bed in a fit of sobs.

You didn’t know how long you had been sitting there like that when you heard a harsh knock from the front door.

“Right. How could I forget,” you deadpanned, trying to rid your voice of its croaky-ness as you made your way out of your room. You quickly wiped at your eyes to dry them, but soon realized that your five-minute sob fest probably left a more lasting impact on your face. Because when you opened the door and slowly shifted your gaze up to glance at a face, what you saw instead was a set of narrowed brown eyes peeking out through the holes of a black balaclava.

“Sorry,” the man said, looking at you suspiciously. “I must have the wrong flat.” But you recognized his voice from the call last night

“Simon, right?” you confirmed.

“Ghost,” he said, his voice gruff and assertive.

“What?”

“I prefer to be called Ghost.” Again, with the no-bullshit tone that was forcing you to comply.

 “O-Okay.” You didn't even question why; it was an odd nickname, for sure, but you didn't have the time to delve into it. So with a deep breath and a fake smile plastered on your face, you moved on. “Sorry ‘bout the mess you’re about to witness. I’ve had no time to clean.” You stepped away from the door to let the man in.

His staggering height was surprising to witness. You weren’t short by any means, but you’d also rarely ever come across people this tall. It was gonna become a problem if you had to crane your neck ninety-degrees every time you needed to talk to the guy.

It was also strange, and a little off-putting, that he was wearing a balaclava. You’d understand if he was wearing it outside because of the cold weather, but indoors? That’s curious. And also something you didn’t have the time to question right now.

Simon stepped inside the flat and walked over to the living room; you passed by him into the kitchen. “So down that hallway are the rooms.” You used your free hand to point down the hallway to your right, your other hand reaching into the fridge to grab your lunch for the day. “Yours is the one on the right, the bathroom is on the left. There’s only one, so we’ll have to share.” A brief pause as you threw the Tupperware and a water bottle into your purse. “Rent is due on the 3rd of every month, but you don’t have to worry about the rest of this month; it’s already paid.” The spare key that you took from Ethan lay untouched on the kitchen counter. You grabbed it and walked over to Si- Ghost, whose broad back was still facing you.

“Here are the keys,” you jangled them as close to his ear as you could, catching the man’s attention. He turned around to face you, this time his eyes showing nothing. You couldn’t read him anymore.

You acted as if Ghost had already said yes and you were just giving him a tour for the sake of it, but really, you hoped the fake confidence you exuded deterred him from your most likely puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

“That’s it, then?” he asked, eyeing the keys you held out but not making a move to take them.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re about to hand a man you barely know a set of keys to your flat. Hell, you’re about to let this man live in your goddamn flat without knowing if he’s a criminal or a creep.” Ghost’s tone was more livid than condescending, as if he couldn’t believe you were doing what you were doing.

And maybe you should’ve been more scared. Not only was Ghost tall, but he was muscular, and wore a balaclava, and had a deeper voice than you’d ever heard from a man. You should have been terrified.

But you weren’t. Nothing about Ghost, neither his demeanor nor his disposition, was giving you a bad vibe. He just looked like a man who really needed somewhere to live, and you were a woman who really needed someone to take the extra room in her flat. It was a win-win.

“Are you criminal or a creep?” you asked, pretending to do some sort of due diligence.

“Of course not,” Ghost replied, his dead eyes morphing into something of slight annoyance.

“Great, then here are the keys.” You shoved the metal towards Ghost’s chest, forcing him to take it. With that, you grabbed your purse, slung your coat over your arm, put on a pair of white sneakers that your boss would hate but would let slide for today, and started for the front door.

“Where’re you going?” Ghost sounded exasperated. Like you had suddenly become a nuisance to him.

“Uhm, work. I’m running late.” You twisted the knob and were halfway out the door when he got your attention again.

“You really wanna do this?” he asked, still rooted to his place in the living room.

You barely contemplated your answer. “Look, I’ll take my chances.” You breathed a heavy sigh. “For once, I need something in my life to go right.”

Not waiting for a reply, you closed the door behind you and sprinted out of the building.

Ghost stood in the now empty apartment, still a little dazed by the whirlwind of a morning he’d just had. He couldn’t bring himself to question why he was so exasperated by the thought of you letting him live with you. It was some sort of instinct within him that told him to reprimand you for letting a stranger reside in your flat with you, though he knew he wasn’t a threat to anyone but himself.

“Jesus,” he muttered into the messy space, forcing his feet down the hallway to take a look at his new room. The space was empty save for a floor lamp that was meant to illuminate the room in the dark. Ghost wondered what the area was used for prior to his arrival, though the conditions of the walls and floors made it seem like it wasn’t used at all.

A ding reverberated through the stale air of the room, Ghost realizing the noise came from his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket to see a text message. From you.

Don’t touch the Indian takeout in the fridge. That’s my dinner.

Ghost chuckled, shaking his head. If anything, at least you had your priorities straight.

He walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge, spotting said Indian takeout, some condiment bottles, a half-eaten sandwich, and some fruits. But no veggies in sight.

A moment of deliberation and Ghost new what he would be doing today, besides moving in, of course. He didn’t know when you’d be back, but he assumed it wouldn’t be for a while.

Perfect.

#simon riley #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x fem reader #simon ghost riley x fem reader #modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #cod #mw2 #x female reader #x fem reader #forced proximity #roommates #slow burn

[person-behind-books]

kakashi has been choking on flowers for longer than his lungs have been without. the seet developed when a small boy kicked him into a tree and grinned visciously at the victory and a flower bloomed when said boy, now a bit taller, yelled at him that leaving comerades behind made you worse than trash. not even two hours later the boy was dead. the flower didn't die with him but also didn't continue growing. kakashi, unable to let the memories go, kept it. with time he got used to the pain and found ways to work with the lessened lung capacity. then on a battlefield many years in the future a mask cracks apart and to flower stirs for the first time. there is hope, obito is alive, and despair, obito is trying to kill everyone, and the flower neither whithered nor bloomed but simply stirred. her roots having made kakashi's flesh their home too long ago. when the war is over and his team and his friends and obito are all miraculously still alive, kakashi collapses. more so for his lack of breath than his chakra exhaustion or his injuries. obito, limbs shaking from the strain is the one to pick him up and follow sakura along as she makes her way to naruto and sasuke. sasuke and obito, after an uphill battle with only the support of the kazekage are given in the sole custody of konoha, to deal with and punish as they deem acceptable. their case, especially obito's, are difficult ones. sasuke because he betrayed his village, killed a council member, and attacked the five kage but also helped stop the war. obito, because he played a big a role in starting the war as he did in ending it. in the end sasuke is released on probation, to be accompanied by an anbu guard at all times for at least a year, at which point his case will be revisited and re-examined. obito, meanwhile, has a permanent home in the detention cells for at least the next five years. most people know this is only because obito accepted the verdict. with his sharinganhe could eseasly leave even the most secured cell and sealing a persons chakra for more than a month was considered too inhumane even by shinobi standarts. so kakashi is the new hokage and the uchiha are dealt with. life moves on. the flower in kakashi's chest isn't contend with that, however. it's roots start to bury deeper over the coming months and the flower begins shedding petals that kakashi coughts up in bloody puddles. it's a whole now agony, to have the roots move and extend after his lungs had spend almost two decades growing around and fusing to it. it'd even worse than when they had first pierced found their home in his lungs.

obito notices when kakashi's visits trickle down from twice a week to weekly to bi-weekly. how he looks worse and sicker each visit. he isn't told that there is anything wrong with the hkage but even someone who hadn't stalked kakashi for years, someone who wasn't as obsessed with the man as obito was would be able to tell somethign was wrong. then, one day kakashi stands in front of his cell, his breath coming in loud, wet rhasps and tiny conculsions making their way through his muscles. technically obito could activate his sharingan and the chakra blockers on every wall wouldn't be able to stop him form seeing the injury but it seems wrong. to look at him with his sharingan without kakashi's wish to do so. obito had taken so much from kakashi in his lifetime and he daren't take more. "i have hanahaki." kakashi talks in a voice so hoarse it can barely be heard but a tone steady and composed. "i'll die within the week either way so i was commanded," a wry chuckle "to try the last option. I'm alright with dying and this isn't anybodys fault. do you get that, obito?" obito is frozen in shock but he's been a shinobi for too long to let that hinder his actions so he hesitantly nods. if kakashi wants him to not enact revenge on whoever he loves for not loving him back obito will accept it and mourn kakashi like he failed to for rin. "i'm in love with you." becasue it's kakashi the words are spoken with a calculated moncholance that stops obito from understanding their meanings for a couple of seconds. then he activates kamui and vanishes from his cell. the guards aren't fast enough and kakashi to ill to stop obito from grabbing kakashi when he re-appears and taking him into kamui with him. he doesn't love kakashi. not like that. there's only ever been rin and even his obsession with kakashi isn't love. obito is fond of him and needs him to keep living but he's not in love and now that will be what kills kakashi after years of surviving whatever the world threw at him. obito can't accept that. he has trained for years to only send some parts of his body to kamui. he has precice control and an almost perfect understanding of his body. and kakshi also has a sharingan. his sharingan. they are connected in a way no other two people are. he tries but when his chakra flows along and inside kakashi's ribcage he understands that to cut the flower out now, to leave it behind in a bloody, wooden pile would be to leave half of kakashi's lungs open. he would drown in his own blood before even suffocating. still, he manages to leave some part of the flower behind. and goes to the second plan. it's disgusting how madara's influence still haunts him. how it shapes his actions and guides his thoughts but in this situation he's grateful for it. kakashi is too smart to fall for it if he hesitates for even a second.

obito moves just fast enough that kakashi can see him move but not interfere and before he can act they're in the kamui dimention. his breath, inexplicably comes a bit lighter but hsi lungs are still being torn apart by flowers. obito takes a step back from him. then another. the he turns around and just screams into the void for a good moment. kakashi has no idea what's going through his head. at one point obito's shoulders begin to shake, his voice breaking, and when he turns back around he looks so vulnerable. "you love me?" his voice is tiny, small and terrified in a way kakashi never heard from him before. he nods because he promised naruto to do it and by now it's too late to back out. "and you're dying?" another nod "because of me." kakashi shakes his head because this is no ones fault. not his for falling in love. not obito's for not returning the feelings. "i- i'm sorry." kakashi has seen obito cry a thousand times. this time it's no different. big blubbering tears and a snotty nose are running down his face. kakashi doesn't understand how but something in his chest stirs at that, his chest filling with warmth. obito is an ugly crier, always has been, but to kakashi - for some reason - he is still beautiful. "i didn't know. i didn't know. if i knew i wouldn't have. i didn't know." he's still standing out of touching distance but everything in his body language is screaming a yearning to reach out. "i'm sorry. i love you, i'm sorry. i'm sorry. please stay. please don't leave don't die. i'm sorry. i love you i love you i'm in love with out. i didn't know i'm sorry. i would have told you. im sorry." obito is flinching further into himself with every word and pulling himself away, without moving a muscle. the flower in kakashi's lungs grows smaller, leaving chakra in it's wake that heals but not vanishing completely. kakashi believes obito when he tells him he loves him but he knows the rest is bullshit. obito isn't in love with him. it's obvious. still, it feels so good to have the pain vanish kakashi is floating. if obito want's to lie he'll accept it. he'll help him. they'll both just lie. it's enough for now. kakashi reaches out with his left hand. his right having entered too many ribcages between them to be considered neutral and at the brush against his arm obito collapses forward and his arms snare around him. this is fine. for now it's enough.

he'll keep lying as long as he needs to. as long as the other needs it. as long as the other accepts it. for the rest of his life if he needs to. to be able to keep the other's warm bodie in his arms. maybe they'll one day be in love maybe they'll die as liers. it doesn't matter as long he stays for now.

#that last paragraph is deliberately made to be able to be from both their perspectives #also you have no idea how hard it was to decide on a ship for this one. alternatives were kakagai with gai having hanahaki #yamakaka with either yamato or kakashi having it. sasunaru with naruto having the illness and while kurama can heal it's not enough to #survive the flower. madatobi with madara despite everythign having it and tobirama lying for his brother and out of guild #drabble #kakashi hatake #obito uchiha #naruto #naruto shippuden #kakaobi #obikaka #obkk

[2anxious2betrue]

Happy Marriage

Warnings: mature material, sex scene, future non-con/rape, dark fic, “dead dove do not eat”, the 1940s gender dynamics

Note: This is my first time positing a story of tumblr, you can also find my other works on ArchivesOfOurOwn, my username there is QueenSketch.

Summary: Soldier boy is looking for his wife, has anyone seen her? Its been many years, and he has come back ready to have a happy marriage. Too bad she doesn't see it that way.

Part 1:

The television light illuminated your cramped living room space, bringing dread and despair from today’s news. 

“A massive explosion occurred today in the middle of the city, a security camera was able to catch the scene in action. As we can see here, a blast of light bursts out of this man’s chest into the building, killing 79 innocent bystanders”

The video zooms into the person, showing a disheveled male with a beard and side swept hair. The video was blurry, but you had a horrible gut feeling telling you that you know that person.  

“We are currently not certain of who this person is, but there have been speculations that this person may be Soldier Boy. A once beloved hero. If this is truly him, what has happened? There has been no updates from Vought yet but channel 2 news will keep you updated”.

The concerned and stern face of the news anchor fades out as you click your remote to shut down the television. Your heart is racing. No this can’t be real, you were free of him. You have been free for over a decade. This must be a mistake. 

Your mind began to jump from one concern to the next, your breathing increased but it felt as if no oxygen was getting through your lungs. You were spiraling and you knew it, but nothing could help you now if he was truly back. 

You closed your eyes and tried to think, tried to brainstorm a plan. You could move, he wouldn’t be able to find you. You changed your name, no one knows who you truly are. No one knows your past or what you have done. Yes you could move and with today’s technology at your fingertips, you could easily be safely hidden away from him. 

1946 

The radio was playing a nice soft melodic song, you hummed along to it as you were preparing dinner. Your dress swayed with you as you moved your body to the beat of the song. You could hear the front door open, but you were so entranced with the song and your movements that you continued along. 

“Honey, I’m home”

The deep barrel of your husband’s voice took you out of your trance. You patted your apron down, put on your best smile, and went to greet your husband. He was still in the doorway, his dark green and black suit on defining all of his muscles and built. He was taking off his shoes, as you approached him. 

“Welcome home deer” 

He opened his arms as he welcomed your embrace, you stood on your tippy toes to hug him and give a small kiss to his cheek. He chuckled into your embrace. 

“I've missed you”. He says to you, your smile gets brighter. “I’ve missed you more, I have dinner almost ready. Clean up and come downstairs”. 

“It smells delicious, but I would rather eat you all up”. He sends you a smirk and a twinkle in his eye. 

You shew him away before he tries to grab you. “Oh silly you”, you laugh at him and head back to the kitchen, as you are about to pass the door frame you hear him say something. 

“What was that honey?” You yell back. 

“I have a surprise for you, I can give it to you after dinner. When we have some fun upstairs”. His tone of voice seems deeper to you, you think it's because he has a big appetite for sex. Especially after he became a supe. 

“Oh you didn’t have to, but can’t wait”. 

You hear his heavy footsteps going up the stairs, and carry on back to the kitchen to set the table and finish up. 

After dinner, you clean everything from the table as Ben goes to sit down on the couch and relax. He has such a hard job and passion of being a superhero, he does so much for the world, you just wish that you could be a comfort for him. You begin to wash the dishes, but you feel a heavy hand rest on your shoulder. That startles you. 

“Oh goodness Ben, I didn’t notice you”. He gives you a tight smile. 

“Is something wrong?�� You ask. 

He is a head taller then you, his height looms over you as he looks deep into your eyes. His hazel/gray eyes bring love and desire into you, but at this moment they seem off. He leans towards you and captures your lips with his own. His lips move skillfully with yours, bringing butterflies into your stomach. 

You lean away from him to catch a breath and smile up at him. He closes the water faucet and takes your hand into his. He leads you away from the kitchen, up the stairs, and into your bedroom. 

He seems more impatient today than usual but you comply with his actions. He pushes you onto your bed, forcing you to sit on the edge of it. 

“Strip” 

You slowly reach back to untie your apron but before you can pull it over yourself he stops you. 

“Keep that on”. 

You nod your head, and silently ask him to pull down the zipper of your dress. He sits close to you, his breath fanning on your neck as he gently pulls down the zipper. As he unzips the dress, he trails the zipper down and plants small kisses on the way. His final kiss was at the bottom of your back. 

You stand up to step away from the dress. Frilly light green bra and panties still on. You look at your husband sitting in front of you, your eyelids half open sending a sultry look towards him. 

“Aren’t you going to take anything off?”

He wags his leather gloved finger no at you. You could feel your panties getting damp as the seconds go by. 

You un-clip your bra and let it fall to the floor, the apron is still covering your front. You teasingly turn your back towards him, and slowly pull your panties down giving your husband a show. 

You hear his belt clink and then his zipper goes down. You glance towards him and see him stroking his girthy cock, pre-cum glistening at the top. You gulp down saliva, and go on all fours towards him. He gives you a knowing look, as he spreads his thighs for you to fit. 

You look up at him, his dark gaze looking deep at you. You nod your head and move closer to his inviting cock waiting for your attention. You first lick the shaft of it. Once, twice, three times. He shudders each time, a small groan escaping his mouth. That encourages you as you fully take his head into your mouth. It pulsates as you swirl your tongue around and put more of him in. 

He becomes impatient and thrusts his hips into you. You oblige and move your head up and down, while gently massaging his balls. Groans of pleasure escape him, and you know he is almost at his limit. You could feel your pussy throbbing and getting wet from pleasuring him. Before he cums into your mouth, he pulls himself out. 

His actions confuse you, as he pulls you up. He turns you around and pushes you on the bed on all fours. You spread your legs, ready to take him. He aligns himself towards your entrance and swiftly thrusts in. He begins with a steady pace but becomes more frantic with each stroke. 

You could feel your own climax coming, he would hit the right spot each time. One of his hands was massaging your right breast, twisting the nipple and bringing more pleasure towards you. Each sensation became more and more, until finally you felt release. 

The feeling of completion didn’t last long. You felt a sharp stab towards the middle of your back, a forceful injection. The pain was unbearable as this unknown substance was forced into your organism. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, burning, but also as if you were buried in ice. Tears sprung down your face as you sobbed and screamed in agony. 

Ben was still inside of you as he held you to himself. You could hear him saying something, but the agony was too much.  

The last thing you heard him say before you blacked out was “This way we will always be together”. 

Part 2: https://2anxious2betrue.tumblr.com/post/688641447595016192/happy-marriage-part-2

#soldier boy x reader #dark soldier boy x reader #dark fic #rape/noncon #1940s soldier boy #the boys #dark soldier boy

[mod-kyoko]

Oooh~ how about Mukuro ikusaba, Maki harukawa and Kirumi tojo with a girlfriend that only feels safe when she's with them

mukuro, maki and kirumi with a girlfriend that feels safe around them

info: female!reader, established relationship, tw: creepy dudes, Sxual assault, violence

type: hc format, non-despair au

a/n: woah let others give banger requests (jk, ty for this request) also sorry about maki's part idk why I made it so damn dark

⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡

kirumi tojo

as you are her top priority, her main focus is to always keep you safe and happy

she happily drops everything she's doing if you need her support

whether you want to travel to your classes, your dorm or go to the market, she'll always come with you at your request

her tall frame, calm composure and gentle mother-like care helped to relax you when you felt anxious or uneasy

with the way she is, she usually does not act impulsively unless you request her of something; especially in the first stages of your relationship

however, when she notices you're getting antsy she'll curl her arm around you and pull you close into her side or if you're sitting down she'll guide your head on her shoulder and hold it

if you prefer to hold her hand, she'll take off her glove if you enjoy the skin-to-skin contact

she isn't one to make a big scene at all however if someone was bothering you and making you feel threatened she'll put herself between you and that person

"excuse me, I believe my lover isn't comfortable right now, please give her space."

her firm tone and straightened posture would be enough to make anyone uncomfortable and walk away

she'll gently take you to a secluded area, putting her hands on your shoulders and looking down at you

"are you alright...? mmm... do not worry, you're safe with me."

she double checks that you're okay before taking you to a nice cafe where you could relax and sip tea with her

although kirumi makes better tea than this...

maki harukawa

at first, maki doesn't give the impression that she was protective of you

she wasn't really much of a 'touchy' person either, your relationship was purely enjoying the presence of each other

however, one day you were in a really crowded train station with your girlfriend, shuichi and kaito on your way to the main city hub

it was fine at first, waiting for the train to arrive. maki was just standing at your side looking down at her phone

suddenly you felt a strange touch go along your lower back and your entire body stiffened

you turned your head slightly to see a man standing right behind you, looking forward like if nothing had happened

your entire face went white and you practically pressed your body against maki's side, which she looked at you strangely

"what the hell are you doing?"

her words were harsh but that was usually how it was, you looked behind you again and the man had disappeared into the crowd

she had noticed your expression and she quickly softened up, touching your arm gently

"hey, what's wrong?"

you told her what happened and you swear you saw death itself in her eyes

"where?"

"where is that bastard?"

honestly you weren't expecting her to get murderous like this, not over you

it had taken all of you, kaito and shuichi to hold her back from killing anyone that looked at you the wrong way for the rest of the day

after that incident she always kept herself close to you, linking arms with you or holding you from behind (especially if you're a shorter person)

no doubt you felt the safest you had ever been in your entire life, she didn't even let a stranger lay a finger on you... even though she wanted to hurt them so bad, she restrained herself to not get arrested and make you sad

but she does glare at them and say the usual "do you want to die?"

mukuro ikusaba

oh boy

you didn't even need to mention anything to her, she was protecting you from day one

she was practically your personal bodyguard and that suited her just fine

whenever you were studying in the library she would stand over you and watch your surroundings

if anyone even dared come close to you she would glare at them and flash her knife that was strapped to her leg

okay so maybe she's being a little over the top...

but you really did feel a lot safer when she was around you

she would walk you everywhere and rarely left you alone, unless you were in your dorm of course

on the rare occasion that she leaves you alone for a moment, the lack of her presence is definitely obvious

it was late at night and you were waiting for her outside a 7/11, she was grabbing you both a drink and snack before you head back to the academy

whilst waiting, a biker was parked up closeby and kept looking at you

"hey sweetie, all alone?"

you tried to ignore him, looking away as the anxiety ate at you

"hey, i'm talking to you! playing hard to get, huh?"

the biker got up and walked over to you, cornering you against the wall as he leered at you

he was going to say some more disgusting things, until he suddenly was punted to the ground by a very angry mukuro

"get your FILTHY hands off of her!"

mukuro kicked at him, in the face, at this stomach... wherever her foot could reach she would pummel him

you almost looked in awe, even if she was being violent, seeing her protect you made your chest squeeze

...but you had to quickly stop her when she pulled her knife out

despite being beaten to a near pulp the biker drove off on his bike whilst whimpering

she sighed, taking a deep breath before looking at you with a kinder expression

"you okay? he didn't hurt you, did he?" when you shook your head she nodded her head and hugged you. "good. you're always going to be safe when I'm around, okay?"

she took you home after that and you curled into her arms when you cuddled that night... she held you a little tighter than normal as well.

⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡⟡♡

-Mod Kirumi

#mod kirumi #danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa headcanons #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa v3 #kirumi tojo #kirumi x reader #maki haruwaka #maki x reader #mukuro ikusaba #mukuro x reader

[bellofthemeadow]

The Road Ahead - ch 5 | Frankie Morales x female reader

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.

But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 4.3K

Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty

Chapter Summary: An unexpected Sunday morning visit unveils the true meaning of family.

Notes: Hello my lovelies, thank you so much for all the likes and reblogs and comments! I love you all so much <3! Here is new chapter fresh out of the oven, I hope you all enjoy it!! A lovely mix of angst and fluff, exactly as I like it!

Also, I apologize but the next chapter won't come out until later next week as I have some assignments due for the summer semester I am taking at university. After this chapter, I am planning 2 more regular chapters and 1 epilogue.

Let me know what you think, and I hope you are all ready for an extra soft Will Ironhead Miller (Top tier Will Miller imo)

Family

As the door closes behind him, Frankie can hear you sob from inside the house. His first instinct is to turn around, rip the door open, and take you in his arms. He wants to hold you close, apologizes a million more times, and make a thousand promises to you—anything to make you stop crying. He knows he isn't worth your tears. You've always deserved so much more than him. You've given him everything, but all Frankie has given you is pain.

Numbly, Frankie walks toward his truck, his footsteps heavy with all that occurred in the last couple of hours. He mechanically opens the door and sinks into the driver's seat, his gaze fixed ahead toward the house. With tears streaming down his face, he reaches with a trembling hand into his pocket and retrieves his phone, fingers hovering over the familiar buttons.

His heart pounds in his chest as he contemplates dialling the number, knowing that the next few moments could shape the course of his future. The weight of his mistakes and the desire for redemption clash within him, battling for dominance. Taking a deep breath, he musters the courage to press the digits, each number feeling like a heavy decision.

"Catfish? Well, that's a surprise. Good to hear from you, man."

"Pope," he says the name with broken sobs.

"Catfish?! What's going on? Did something happen to the guys?" Pope's voice immediately loses its friendly tone as he switches into military man mode.

Frankie's voice quivers, his words barely holding back the flood of despair that consumes him. "I messed up, Pope," he confesses, his tone broken and defeated. "I messed up big time... with the coke. I couldn't stop myself, no matter how hard I tried. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!" His frustration erupts.

Pope's tone softens, carrying a blend of compassion and determination. "Alright, Fish. Take a deep breath. You know I’ve got your back, brother. Tell me everything. We'll figure this out together." His words offer a lifeline, a promise of support amidst the chaos that has engulfed Frankie's life in the past hour.

The weight of his failures hangs heavy in the air as Frankie continues, his voice tinged with remorse. "I promised I'd get better, Pope, but I'm so fucking lost. I've ruined the only good thing in my life, and now I’ve got nothing." The room seems to darken as he confesses his deepest failure, his words laden with self-condemnation, “I don't know what to do Pope. I don't know how to claw my way back from that fucking hole we dug ourselves back there!”

“I know that what happened in Columbia was…” Pope begins empathically, but Frankie cuts him off “FUCK COLUMBIA! It's not just about that. I mean, it is about that, but it's more than that. Her and Ella are the best thing that's happened in my life, and I couldn't talk to her. I was so afraid she'd see me as that... as that monster that I became back there, that I ended up becoming that monster with her. Fuck Pope, I brought Coke into my home. Can you believe that!”  Frankie hits the front dash of his car in anger “I BROUGH COKE into the home where I have a baby. The place my wife made into a home for us. How could I do something like? What is wrong with me?!?!"

Silence greets his outburst. Barely audibly, Pope asks, "Where are you right now?"

“I am in my truck, parked in front of my house.” Frankie's voice trembled with helplessness. "Pope, I don't know what to do," he confides, his words echoing the magnitude of his loss as it engulfed him, leaving him adrift in a sea of uncertainty. "Without her and Ella, what am I supposed to do? They are everything to me, my reason for pushing forward. I am nothing without them," Frankie admits, his voice tinged with resignation. The burden of past mistakes, tangled with the relentless hold of addiction and the haunting memories of PTSD, has reduced him to a mere shadow of who he once was.

"I'm just a washed-up coke addict," he confesses, the words carrying a mixture of self-loathing and regret. The image of his own deterioration gnaws at him every day. His grey reflection in the mirror is a constant reminder of the battles he had fought and the battles he had lost. The tendrils of addiction weaved their way into every fibre of his being, leaving him stripped of his former identity.

Pope’s heart breaks, hearing the words of his best friend. His brother. But Santi was always a pragmatic man and effusive shows of emotions were always more of Benny’s realm. "Can you make it to Will? Or Ben.."

"Not Benny."

Tense silence fills the air, "Did something happen?"

"I can't deal with Benny right now, not after... What happened today."

"Alright, are you able to drive yourself to Will?"

"Yes, I should be." Efficient and precise, Frankie resorts to the mode that comes easiest to him.

"Then drive to Will, and I'll meet you there. I'm jumping on the next plane that leaves today

"Pope, wait. What about your girl?"

"Hey, how long have I known you, Catfish?" Pope's voice is filled with unwavering support. "If my brother needs me, I'm going to be there. Besides, most of what happened is my fault. You wouldn't have touched that shit again if it weren't for my dumbass coming up with a shit plan that went to hell."

“Pope, you can't blame yourself for everything. The fuck ups I caused in my marriage and the fucking coke aren’t your fault. Those are my crosses to bear. But I appreciate you being there for me, brother. It means more than you know."

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line, as Pope takes a deep breath before speaking again. "Listen, Catfish, I can't change what happened, but I can promise you this: we'll do whatever it takes to make things right. We'll find a way to fix this mess, for you, for your lady and for your family. You're not alone in this, brother."

"Pope..."

"Don't say anything. Drive to Will, and I'll see you as soon as I can. Understood?"

"Roger. Pope?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"It's the least I could do. I know how much you love your lady. And you know how it goes with us, we leave no man behind."

1 week later

You had always been more inclined toward solitude. Even as a child, you found solace in playing alone with your dolls in your room, rather than engaging with your siblings. It wasn't as if your brothers had any desire for you to join their activities. With their significant age gap, they viewed you as an everyday nuisance at best or, at worst, the cause of all their problems. Your mother's words still lingered in your mind at times: "Sorry, boys, we can't afford a vacation this summer. Money is tight with the extra kid." "Sorry, boys, you'll have to share a room because your sister is a girl.” “Sorry boys, your sister needs to go on a diet so we can’t have cookies in the house, otherwise she’d pig out on them.” These constant barbs had shaped your life and fueled resentment from your three older brothers. Even to this day, they seldom reached out to you. When you got married to Frankie, the eldest didn't even bother attending, despite RSVPing for his wife and five kids. Your mother simply glanced at you and remarked, "Well, what do you expect? It's just a backyard wedding. No reason for your brother to disrupt his life.”

So yeah, you never minded being on your own. But, as you reflect on your years with Frankie, you realize that you had become unaccustomed to being alone. Although you were physically independent for most of your relationship, mentally and emotionally, Frankie was always there with you, sharing your life in the deepest and most meaningful way. But now, you find yourself truly alone in a way you haven't experienced in a long time. Frankie is not here, and you're uncertain if you should allow him to linger in your emotions. If it weren't for Ella, you don't know how you would cope. You feel like an automaton, mechanically going through each day's motions: waking up, feeding Ella, tending to yourself if time allows, taking Ella next door, going to work, completing your shift, returning home, feeding Ella once more, putting her to bed, pumping milk, squeezing in dinner if you're not dozing off on your feet, taking a shower, and going to bed. Then Ella would surely wake up at least 4 times during the night. As if your peanut could feel your distress and the absence of her father.

You had briefly considered taking a second job after Frankie's departure until you noticed the usual pension deposit from the army. While not a significant amount, it would be sufficient to sustain you and Ella without needing to work two jobs. Tears had welled up as you realized Frankie hadn't cancelled the deposit. Right after that thought, guilt had set in for even entertaining the thought that Frankie would do anything to harm Ella. You tried to convince yourself that Frankie had made that choice for the sake of Ella's well-being and preferred not to let your mind wander into other possibilities. And what they would mean for you and for you-and-Frankie. Better not to dwell on them, you think.

But today was Sunday, a day meant for being at home with Ella. Normally, Frankie would be by your side, flipping pancakes in the kitchen while cradling Ella and singing along to the radio. His singing voice might have been terrible, but you adored it, just like everything else about him. Once again, you suppress the budding regret that has threatened to take root within you multiple times over the past week. You couldn't allow it to grow and taint the decision you had made. It was the right decision—for yourself and for Ella. It was also the right choice for Frankie. He deserved a chance to heal, and you know that you were no longer fit to help him in that journey.

As you held Ella to your chest, she began to fuss. You cooed softly, and miraculously, she settled down, closing her eyes and nuzzling against your upper breast. With a smile, you planted a gentle kiss on her soft, fuzzy head, whispering, "Papa and I love you, my little peanut."

Suddenly, three soft knocks interrupt your tender moment with Ella. Glancing at the clock, it reads 8:15 am. Your heart skips a beat. Frankie? You can’t help but wonder. Carefully, you place Ella in her portable pram and quietly position it next to the couch.

Hurriedly, you make your way to the door and swing it open. "Will? Is everything okay? Is Frankie all right?" you gasp, trying to catch your breath.

Will looks at you with a sad smile. "I'm sorry for disturbing you so early on a Sunday. I don't think we should have this discussion in your doorway. Do you mind if I come in?"

Your grip tightens around the doorknob as anxiety courses through you. "Will, please," you pleaded. Seeing the desperation in your eyes, Will's expression softens. He extends his hand and places it gently on your shoulder. "Fish is okay," he reassures you.

Relieved, you let out a shuddering breath and open the door a bit wider. "Come in," you say softly.

Will steps into your house, and he hesitantly asks, "Should I take off my shoes?"

"It's alright. I need to vacuum later today," you explain awkwardly. Will hums in understanding.

"Would you like coffee?" you offer. "If that's not too much trouble, I'd appreciate it. Thank you."

"It's no trouble. I have a pot going. I always make enough for me and..." You stop yourself, clearing your throat and suppressing your tears. "I always make enough for two."

Will smiles sadly, expressing his thanks once again.

Pouring a second cup of coffee, you join Will at the kitchen counter. After a minute, he speaks up. "Ella seems well," he offers.

"She's doing alright, as best as she can be. She decided to be a little angel this morning, so you chose very well," you reply with a small smile.

"And how is work treating you? Do you need any help around this place? Benny and I could lend a hand if you need anything—mow your lawn or fix screws here and there," Will offered.

"Thank you, Will. That's really kind of you. If something comes up, you'll be the first to know," you respond. A moment passes before you ask, "Is this why you're here, Will?"

Will sighs softly, taking a long sip of his coffee. "I guess there's no beating around the bush. First, I wanted to apologize for Benny's behaviour last time. He was way out of line, putting himself where he shouldn't have. I apologize."

"It's okay. I was angry, but not at you or Benny," you assure him.

"Regardless, this should have been a private conversation, not one held in a bar," Will admits. You fix him with a soft smile. "Thanks, Will."

"I came for two reasons. And, yes, before you ask, both concern Fish," Will begins, his gaze shifting towards Ella, who remains thankfully quiet in her pram. "Fish checked himself into rehab on Friday morning."

A gasp escapes your lips. "He did? By himself?" It was almost hard to believe. The possibility had been discussed before, especially after he lost his license. You had thought that seeking in-care help would be the best course of action. However, Frankie had been resistant, insisting that he could quit on his own. He didn't want to be separated from you, especially during your pregnancy, and felt he couldn't be away from you during such a crucial time. Reluctantly, you accepted his decision, believing it was the right choice since Frankie had managed to stay away from cocaine. Or so you had thought, until a month ago.

"And... is he alright? How was he?" you ask, concern evident in your voice.

Will looks pensive. "It was tough, not gonna lie. Pope flew in from Australia the day after... after the memorial. I think Fish called him. I wasn't there when Pope arrived, but whatever he said, it got through to Fish. The night after the bar, after it all went down, Fish crashed on my couch, and... Look, are you sure you want me to tell you? I don't want to make you uncomfortable or make you feel like any of this is your fault. For what it's worth, I think you showed remarkable patience, more than most people would have. None of what happened was your fault— What happens in the field, when we are out there fighting some enemy, really messes with the best of us. And Fish, well, he was always the most sensitive among us. He never meant, he never wanted to hurt you. But in the end, it happened, and I know he despises himself for it. He used to walk around the base, showing your picture to everyone, telling them how lucky he was to have his soulmate waiting for him at home. And you know… Shit, sorry, I don't mean to make you feel sad."

A small, teary laugh escapes you at Will's words. You reach for a tissue, dabbing at your eyes. "It's okay, Will. I want to know what's happening, for my own peace of mind."

"If you are sure, then alright. But stop me if ever it gets too much. So, when Fish got to my place that night, he must have cried from the moment he stepped into my apartment until Pope arrived. They went for a drive, and when they returned, Fish wasn't crying anymore. He looked me in the eyes and, honestly, that was the most transparent I’ve seen him be in a long time, he said: 'I am checking myself into rehab. I am getting my shit together for Ella and for my wife. That's what matters, nothing else,'" Will recounts.

You gnaw anxiously at your bottom lip, your eyes shifting to Ella. "He really said all that?" you inquire, seeking confirmation.

"Affirmative," Will responds. “You’re such a dork, you know that, Will Miller?” You snort at his overly formal answer.

Will smiles before his gaze turns to a now fussy Ella. "He left you with these as well," he adds, reaching into his old brown leather bag that had been resting at his feet since his arrival. With care, he retrieves an envelope and what appears to be a... recorder? Memories of your university days flood your mind, recalling how you used a similar device to record your professors' voices during lectures. "Those are ancient," you can't help but think, considering how iPhones have now made them somewhat obsolete.

"What's all that?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

"That," Will says, gently pushing the envelope toward you, "is a letter Fish wrote for you. He said you should open it when you feel ready."

You accept the envelope with trembling hands, fixing Will with an uneasy look. "Do you know... Do you know what's in it?" you inquire, seeking any insight Will could provide you with.

"I'm afraid I don't," Will responds with a sincere expression. "Fish wouldn't say. He was really secretive about it. He made me promise not to open it before giving it to you, as if I would do that. He said it's for your eyes only and that you would understand why he wrote to you."

"Frankie and I used to write letters to each other for years," you reveal to Will. "Even when he came back for good, we continued writing letters. It was our way of showing we cared. But we stopped writing them... It must have been around the time we realized I was pregnant with Ella."

"Then maybe Frankie wanted to show you that he still cared," Will cautiously suggests. "Maybe he wants to demonstrate that he wants to move forward, and that letter is the first step."

"Should I open it now?" you ponder aloud.

"Fish was adamant that you open it in your own time. If it takes you a year, he said he'd wait for you," Will explains.

You close your eyes briefly, but Ella's little scream pierces the room's silence, prompting you to rise and gather her in your arms. With a smile, you softly rock her. "Well, someone's a fussy lady," you comment, nuzzling her nose. Then, you turn Ella around to face Will. "Look who's here, peanut! It's your Uncle Will!"

Will smiles warmly as you approach with Ella, who continues to fuss in your arms. He makes some faces at her, and Ella seems enchanted by her handsome uncle. You settle back down in front of him, gently rocking Ella as you resume your conversation.

You gesture toward the other item in front of you and inquire, "What about the recorder?"

Will smiles gently before reaching for it and pressing play. "Hola Estrelita," Frankie's voice resonates from the small device, causing you to freeze in place. "I hope you're being good for your mama. You know how much she loves you. I love you so much, mi corazon. Papa loves you bigger than all the stars in the universe because you are Papa's favourite star!"

Tears stream down your face as Ella's fussing ceases, and she looks at you with curious eyes, as if silently asking, "Papa?"

"Frankie recorded around two hours of his voice on there. He said it was for Ella, so she wouldn't forget his voice while he was at... while he was away," Will explains. "You know how sentimental that old fish can be."

Overwhelmed with emotions, you struggle to find the right words as the recording momentarily stops, then resumes with Frankie's voice saying, "Hey Ella, mi amor..." In a rush, you press the stop button, needing a moment to collect yourself.

"This rehab... How long is it?" you finally manage to ask. "Frankie wouldn't have recorded 2 hours’ worth of content if it were just for a two-week stint, would he?"

Will takes a deliberate sip from his coffee, his gaze thoughtful, before he responds, "It's a four-month program. No outside contact for the first three."

You close your eyes, feeling a surge of anxiety as you tighten your grip on Ella. Sensing your unease, she pouts unhappily in your arms. "Four months? That... That's really long," you express, your voice filled with concern.

"It is," Will acknowledges, his tone understanding. "Frankie wants to make it stick. He doesn't want to half-ass it. When he sees you and Ella again, he wants to be worthy of you both. He wants to be worthy of this family."

"Is that what he told you?" you inquire, searching for clarity.

"His exact words," Will affirms, extending his hands towards you and placing them gently on your forearm. "Look, I know Frankie better than he knows himself. We served together for more than 10 years, and I genuinely consider him as another brother. But as much as I love him, I can see when Frankie is going down the deep end, just like I know you can. I guess we're all guilty of letting Frankie fall too far. We've always been accustomed to Frankie being the quiet, responsible one, so when he can't cope, we don't know how to help. But..."

"Will, please, you and the guys can't carry all that burden. I am his wife," you sniffle, your voice trembling. "I am his wife, and he has never come to me for anything. I thought I could help him heal, but I couldn't. It was my one job as his wife to take care of him. I even told myself that on the day we got married, you know," your voice wavers as you try to steady yourself for Ella's sake. "I told myself, 'You're going to care for that beautiful, kind man and you are going to make a home for him; he's been through enough.' Now tears stream down your face as you try to hide in Ella's tiny neck. "I couldn't help him, Will. I couldn't help him."

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor fills the room as Will makes his way around the table. He sits down next to you, pulling you close and wrapping his strong arm around you. "Come on, honey, let it all out. I'll hold you for as long as you need," Will says gently. And cry you do, releasing the pent-up stress, anger, and sadness of the past months, dissolving into Will's embrace. He remains sturdy, as he always has, holding you tightly while making sure not to disturb Ella, who rests quietly between the two of you. As you cry, Will softly hums, and strokes your upper back. Will has always felt more like a brother to you than your actual brothers. His love and kindness aren't contingent on anything. He is simply kind and understanding and oh-so wise. These days men like him, men who really listen are a rare breed. You know you can cry in front of Will without any judgment. In moments like this, when everything is dark and engulfing, it feels like the most precious gift to be heard and to be seen.

When your tears begin to subside, Will continues quietly. "Fish didn’t talk to you because he loves you," you can’t help but scoff at his words, but Will continues, steadfast as ever. "Now, wait, listen. I'm not saying it's right, or that Fish couldn't have handled things better. What I'm saying is that the things we've seen, the things we've done—it changes a man. The person we become out there, it's not the kind of person we want to bring back home. It's not someone we want to show to the ones we love. And you know Fish, he was never very good with words. But I do know one thing: Frankie loves you more than anything." Will lifts your head gently, meeting your teary eyes. "Fish made a lot of mistakes, and I'm not excusing any of them. It was unfair to us and unfair to you and Ella. But I know Fish, and you know Fish. I'm not saying you have to give him another chance once he's out of rehab.” Will continues

"All I'm saying is that it's really hard for people like us, and I know that even if you can't take him back, he will never regret striving to better himself for your and Ella’s sake" Will assures you. "And know that whatever you decide to do in 4 months, or in 6 months, or in a year, you'll have me and Benny in your corner, alright? We won't let shit go too far this time around. Yes Frankie will have us, but you'll also have us. We'll take care of you, and while Frankie is gone, Benny and I will hold down the fort. You won't be alone in this, I promise you."

His words wrap around you like a comforting embrace, offering solace and support. The weight on your shoulders feels a little lighter knowing that you have Will and Benny by your side. You glance up at Will, gratitude shining through your tear-streaked eyes.

"Thank you, Will," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion. "Thank you for being here, for understanding, and for taking care of us. I don't know what we would do without you."

Will's grip tightens around you, his voice filled with sincerity. "You don't have to thank me, sis. We're family, and family looks out for each other. We've got your back, no matter what. We'll weather this together."

As you nestle back into his comforting embrace, a flicker of hope begins to burn within you. Maybe, just maybe, with Will and Benny's support, you can find the strength to face the uncertain future and make the best decisions for yourself, Ella and for Frankie.

Next chapter

#fanfic #fic #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales fanfic #frankie catfish morales #pedro boys #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction

[divine-misfortune]

Mushy May, day 5. Personal grooming.

Rating: Everyone

Pairing: Rain & Copia

Words: 693

Summary: Personal upkeep can slip through the cracks when there’s so much thrust onto someone at once. The Cardinal does what he can to make it easier.

“Sit.” 

Rain could have curled in on himself from the sharp edge of the Cardinal’s tone but instead he slunk into the bathroom and sat himself on the seemingly precarious wooden stool in the middle of the room. It creaked under his weight. He folded his hands in his lap and subtly began to pick at a loose thread on his knee.

“You don’t need to-“ he started to whisper, throat dry. 

“Ah, but I do, pioggia…I can’t have my ghouls walking around in such disarray. It reflects poorly on me, but also you seem to be in need of the help.” 

Needles of cold shame pricked up his spine as Copia attempted to run his fingers through the water ghoul’s hair. A sharp tug on his scalp earns a wince as the man snags against a knot. Copia makes a soft and apologetic sound. In the mirror, Rain could see his brow furrow as he assessed the rats nest in front of him. 

It was the burn of humiliation in his cheeks that dragged Rain’s gaze to the tile floor. 

The time he’d spent topside had not been easy. He was run ragged, pulled every which way. Everywhere he looked, there was a new expectation to meet. The poor water ghoul was dead on his feet before the days could even come to a conclusion. It was exhausting, it was scary, and he couldn’t keep up. 

To say he felt inadequate was an understatement, the space he’d been set to fill was impossibly big despite the previous bassist being, well…Not very big. It was daunting. He wanted to crawl back to the pits and stay there where he couldn’t prove to be a disappointment. Most nights, he could barely bring himself to eat his dinner. Trying to care for himself was the last thing on his mind. It was all precious time he could be using to learn the instrument they’d thrust upon him. 

“I’ve noticed” Copia began as he retrieved something from the cabinet above the toilet “you haven’t been very present, during practice, meals, mass.” Rain braced himself for a lecture, a warning. “This has been hard on you, no?” 

“This?”

“Your summoning, your new place,” the man gestured vaguely with one hand as he returned to the place behind him. Rain looked up at the mirror to watch Copia. “There is much to adjust to, I know. Take me for instance, this is all new to me as well.” He took a comb and began to work at a particular knot in his hair as gently as he could, Rain knew it wouldn’t be pleasant. “I cannot say this has come easy to me either.”

“But you make it look…I don’t know, like, easy.” Rain said through grit teeth as Copia tugged a little too hard.

“I will let you in on a secret, ghoul…It’s all pretending. None of this is easy. You never got to see any of the Papa’s in their prime, but they left quite the shoes to fill. I could never hope to be them, so I instead hope to be me.”

“I don’t - Fuck! Ow!” He yelped and jerked away, reaching to rub at his poor abused scalp. “I don’t get why you’re telling me this.” 

“Because, we are both confused of our place here and that’s okay. But I’m afraid that allowing yourself to fall into despair because of that fact, is not. It won’t always be this formidable, and if it is, it is not something you have to stomach in silence.”

Rain ran his tongue over the inside of his teeth and looked back down to his hands. Copia’s eyes were kind, his voice was genuine, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“I mean…Yeah but,”

“Then continue to trust me. You must only have faith in Satanas, me, and yourself or none of it means a thing. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Cardinal.” 

“Very good, now sit still. This is…” He gave another tug at a snag, “going to take some time.” 

#mushy may #void writing #writing #the band ghost #the band ghost ficlet #the band ghost fanfication #ghost the band #rain ghoul #nameless ghouls #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #ghost bc

[ametistacollinsworld]

☼ Uzi x Older Sibling Figure! Reader that got missing years ago ☼

My 47 request! Hope you like!

◇───────◇───────◇

Uzi, a female Worker drone that is very strong, different and closed in her own bubble, but who also had a big sweet heart.

You, an ordinary Worker drone, but who had a caring and protective personality, always looking after Uzi when her father was not around.

Uzi and You, two drones that when meet could not be separated anymore, besides you didn't care much about what others said, as long two were together.

Until one day…

You were helping other drones with the installation of a new colony door, staying outside with two other drones to check that everything was ok.

'' I think that's all guys. Let's continue the rest of the tasks after the break '' You spoke with a satisfied tone, wiping your dirty hands looking at the other two drones that were inside.

But then… disaster struck… with a Murder drone attacking one of your co-workers, which startled you all, with some screaming and starting to run for their lives.

" Close the doors! Now! " You shouted in a hurry, quickly running away from there, seeing your other companion was caught and now looked like a disgusting pile of scrap metal.

" B-but (Y/n)! What about you? " Your companion screamed in despair, which you diverted your attention but trying to keep your figure steady.

" JUST DO IT! WE DON'T HAVE TIME! " You scream in despair, scaring the poor drone more than scolding your other companion.

" Come on man! We have to leave them! The colony is in danger! " So, with that line they finally close the door leaving you there for a moment.

The Murder drone turns towards you slowly, seeming to find the situation at least amusing. Acting like a hero isn't it?

You blinked, just continuing to dodge gunfire and missiles in fear for your life.

'' Forgive me Uzi…I promised I would always be by your side. I guess I'm not a very good sibling after all ''

Uzi was devastated when she found out, why would you do that to her? You were one of the only things that was good about that colony…you had promised to stay by her side forever. You wouldn't break a promise would you?

So, time passed, with Uzi having more experiences in that chaotic place, both nice and not nice… she even got a friendship with a Murder drone… who would say it isn't?

" Uzi? Uzi are you okay? " N asked in a soft tone in front of Uzi, having a worried expression that brought the drone out of its trance.

" Ah.. what is it now N? " Uzi asked in a low tone, turning her head to the side.

" Well, you got so quiet all of a sudden.. I thought something had happened " N spoke in a soft tone, playing with his hands nervously. Uzi snorted rolling her eyes.

" I think… it's nothing.. " Uzi spoke in a dry tone, soon getting up from the ground going to the ship's door.

" I'm going for a walk.. you stay here and take care of V " Uzi spoke in a low tone, quickly leaving the ship not letting N answer.

Uzi started walking through the snow absently, just remembering a moment when you two were still together.

" Hey Uzi! Look at this cool thing I made for you! '' You said in an excited tone, walking into the room of the smaller drone, that at the moment was drawing.

'' And what would it be? '' Uzi asked, stopping drawing looking at you who now had a stupid smile.

'' Oh..no big deal really! Just a gun project I made for you '' You said taking the gun off your back, giving a bigger smile seeing Uzi's face light up in admiration.

'' Wow! Is that a real railgun?! '' Uzi asked admiringly, getting out of the chair she was sitting in to take the gun from your hands. You laughed softly at that, quickly ruffling Uzi's hat and hair.

'' Yes! And now it's all yours! You just have to make a few tweaks here and there, but I'm sure you can manage after all you're very smart, even if you're an emo teenager'' You said with an amused tone, giving a smile seeing how Uzi's expression seemed to fall.

'' Bite me! '' Uzi quickly replied feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment. You just laughed, giving her a few soft pats on the head, which Uzi gave a little cat smile.

'' Thank you (Y/n).. I appreciate that '' Uzi spoke in a low tone, giving you a hug which you returned.

Uzi sighed, stopping in her tracks and looking up, seeing how the sunlight glinted above her. She didn't hear the footsteps approaching her...

'' Uzi?! Is it really you?! '' You said with a smile full of longing, running towards the smaller drone with your arms outstretched. Uzi widened her eyes with no reaction, just feeling your arms wrap around her in a big affectionate hug.

'' I've missed you so much sister… '' You said in a soft tone, laying your head on top of Uzi's, which she finally reacted to, wrapping her arms around you in a hurry.

'' (Y/n)! I-I missed you so much- I- Where have you been? Why did you never come back to me? Why did you leave me here alone? '' Uzi spoke in a hurried tone, almost as if you could disappear at any moment.

'' I missed you a lot too.. why don't we go home first? That way I'll tell you better '' You said with a sweet smile, taking one of Uzi's hands, which she didn't complain about.

You and Uzi had many, many things to discuss and talk about. Uzi was happy to have you back, so please don't ever do that again.

#md uzi #md x reader #md uzi x reader #murder drones #murder drones uzi #murder drones x reader #murder drones uzi x reader

[kazukazuhas]

❝ 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ❞ —- [ 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 ] / 𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

𝐳𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⇢ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ; ; the night finally swindled into the shiny lights and the music lowered but just above everything, everyone else. a warm hand held yours softly as he gazed lovestruckly, eyes soft with his love and you take your first step together as a married couple.

⇢ 𝐜𝐰𝐬 ; ;  kissing ;; fluff ;; marriage things ;; zhongli is and way younger here (around after the archon war time) ;; this takes place wayyy before the fall of the exuvia ;; use of the name "morax" ;; god/dess!reader / venti's sibling ;; slight angst at the end

⇢ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ; ;  i'm not the best for this guy (and not down for him much) but my friend likes him so i decided to grace her with him for the event like diluc. also there are some inconsistencies with the lore, i apologize. i just want the yaksha to be alive. i forget they died okay–

⇢ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ; ; @spoopy-fish-writes // @spoops-inliyue ;; @decaffeinatedcloudkryptonite // @shaantiofher ;; @sunangelstears

it was no surprise that tonight he had finally wedded you, the only shock is that it took him so long to do so. the lights hung low and swirled like fireflies dancing in the grass at the perk of night, the smell of wine wavered on the wave with a gentle sweetness mixing in the air. it was no big event, liyue however did celebrate the occasion with bright colours lining the sky, despite the wedding itself not even in the city.

morax, though not by your side at the moment, laughed alongside his dearest friends with a boyish charm you only saw once before in the younger years of the friendship you had with him. it was pleasant seeing him so relaxed, so happy with the music lifted his smile higher than where he had flown. dancing playfully with the younger adepti alatus was fond of.

"i still don't approve of this." a blunt voice broke your trance of the scene before you, a light giggle still in his voice. "but– i'm happy that you're happy," the man you leaned on sighed with a sort of relieved tone before squeezing your hand.

"thank you, barbatos." a soft reply was all you granted him before continuing with the heart eyed staring back at your husband. your brother scoffed lightly before wrapping his arm about you, a simple side hug.

slipping away from the crowd to where you and barbatos sat watching, morax glared softly at your brother but kept a hand extended towards you. ignoring the tension between the archons, you shake of the younger god of the pair's arm off before holding your husband's hand and pulling him away.

"do not start a fight," you mumbled while smiling back to the young adepti conversing close by. morax groaned before mumbling a yes quietly, sending a glare back to the anemo archon swirling the wine in his cup.

abruptly stopping and facing him with a sincere smile and a glint of lovestruck-ness in your eye, you reach behind him to wrap your arms around his neck. your brush the short strands of light faded brown over around your arms and pressed your forehead to his shoulder. without needing to see it, you knew that he subconsciously shut down beofre he could wrap his arms around your waist and bury his own face in your hair.

the world slowed, he thought, or atleast he had his in his arms, swaying with the music played and in a trance of love and wine. he hummed softly agsint your ear and lulled you further in love with all his small actions.

"i will forever love you," you mumbled softly against the fabric of his clothes, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck with closed eyes and hummed along with him.

"as will i, my dear."

✧ — ✧ — ✧

sat still, in near shock of the news displayed for your view but hand still shaking at the realization of what you heard. the delicate teacup slipped from your fingers, meeting the ground and falling into tears of shattered despair. you stared at the young traveler and their companion with a wild fear in your heart, looking for answers.

"rex lapis– my husband is dead?"

"husband!" the companion screeched before flying around and hugging your shoulders, clearly distaunt herself by the news you heard.

you knew something was strange for the past weeks, he had no a word spoken you and disregarded all advances to your worry for him. a falling out of anger was the result of such disregard.

now you wish you tried harder.

𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩, 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙚𝙩𝙘. 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙧 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙧 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙡𝙚𝙙𝙜𝙚. 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚. 𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙧. 𝙠𝙖𝙯𝙪𝙠𝙖𝙯𝙪𝙝𝙖𝙨 2023

#[ 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 ] #genshin #genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli genshin impact #zhongli genshin #zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #zhongli angst #hurt/no comfort #morax #morax genshin impact #morax x reader

[littleeyesofpallas]

IM just curious, can you talk about gotei 13 and zero divisions'flower symbolism in BLEACH ?

I don't know that there's much to add outside of canon. I think Kubo mentions in various supplemental materials what his reasoning was, and I believe they all line up with pretty standard Japanese floriography, i.e. hanakotoba[花言葉] lit. "flower language."

I was cross referencing things with the Bleach wiki and I realize that I have no idea where Kubo actually confirmed his preferred/intended readings for there, and the wiki doesn't have any citations on it (because of course they don't) so I'm just going to list everything I found on hanakotoba.com and point out anything that feels appropriate...

Kiku[菊]: Chrysanthemum(Chrysanthemum morifolium)

Noble/Virtuous/Lofty

Truth (White chrysanthemum specifically)

It is also more broadly associated with Longevity, Rejuvenation, and Royalty as it is the crest of the royal family of Japan. Its use with 1st division is mostly likely just evoking a seat of authority rather than flower language.

Okina-gusa[翁草]: Nodding Anemone(Anemone cernua)

Unspoken love

Ask for Nothing

Treacherous Love(a love that betrays you)

Really just laser focusing in on Sui Feng specifically here. Aptly reflects her whole thing with Yoruichi, although I don't remember offhand when the first time we actually see 2nd division's flower insignia specifically. I do know we don't even really see Omaeda properly until right before the execution (and the lt. badges are the only place we see the flowers) so it could also have been assigned after their big fight and hsitory/relationship reveal.

Kinsen-ka[金盞花]: Marigold(Calendula officinalis)

Desolation/Loneliness

The Grief of Separation

Mourning

Loss of Hope/Despair

This one at least came up in the actual manga when Kira fought Abirama. But it does seem like another character specific and relationship based one at its inception. Reflects Gin's whole self isolation from Rangiku in his pursuit of revenge, as well as Kira's abandonment in the process.

Rindou[竜胆]: Autumn Bellflower(Gentiana scabra)

To Love the Grieving

Faithfulness/Fidelity

Sincerity/Good Faith

Justice

Reliability

I assume the face value reading here is meant to focus on the "Reliability" part as the medical team. That or maybe "Love the grieving" as a reference to a sort of doctor/nurse's bedside manor. The "Faithfulness & Fidelity" reading does suit Isane's quiet devotion to Unohana though.

Ase-bi[馬酔木]: Lily-of-the-Valley(Pieris japonica)

Sacrifice/Scapegoat/Victim

Dedication/Devotion

Self-sacrifice

Another rather personal jab. A clear indicator of Hinamori's fate. "Dedication" and "Devotion" on the surface might still suit the division, but ultimately Hinamori being a "victim" and "sacrifice" of Aizen's ambition very starkly foreshadowed in this.

Tsubaki[椿]: Camellia(Camellia japonica)

Pride/Honor

Modest Splendor/Modest Virtue

Unwavering Elegance

The red tsubaki is also kind of a classically samurai associated flower on its own, hanakotoba not withstanding. When the camellia dies the flowers drop off their stems without wilting and it's seen as a kind of metaphor for samurai ethics; Better to die quickly and with your good image intact than suffer the indignity of a prolonged wilting.

This I assume is a kind of adjacent meaning to "Pride/Honor" and "Unwavering elegance." And certainly that kind of fixation on the appearance of honor and dignity suites Byakuya's slavish devotion to law and propriety even at the cost of his wife's dying wishes, and indeed any pretense of familial obligation to Rukia as his adopted sister.

Gokurakuchou-ka[極楽鳥花]: Bird-of-paradise(Strelitzia reginae​)

pretentious love

to love a man concerned with his appearance

It took me a moment to really parse this. Most elaborations I found just danced around terms for a "fop" or a "dandy" in describing what I eventually boiled down to just "a man concerned with his appearance" so the particular tone of vanity was misleading. But I think the joke is just that Komamura hiding his wolf head under a series of masks and helmets does indeed count as "concern with appearance" just not in the otherwise implied flamboyant way.

Also the term "pretentious love" sort of fits with Tetsuzaemon's overwrought yakuza-like loyalty and deference to Komamura as his boss. It's not a simple modest devotion it's overplayed and loud and draped in pomp and ritual. He isn't just devoted in action, he has to give the express appearance of devotion as well.

every single time... I don't know why these two always tri me up. I even told myself when I was shuffling the images around, "remember you always screw up komamura and shunsui's flowers, so whatever your instinct is, remember to switch that." And apparently that means i actually had it right first and actively made it wrong

Well, in the very least this makes the various terms floating around like "dandy" and "fop" make much more direct sense, as Shunsui is very much a fashionable and frivolous personality when he's first introduced...

Ayame[菖蒲]: Siberian iris(Iris sanguinea)

good news

hope/desire/ambition/expectations

I dunno this feels weirdly absent of real relation to Kyoraku or even Nanao. I will come back to that "Hope/Desire..." one though. So stick a pin in that...

...However now I don't know what to make of the ayame in relation to Komamura.

(and of course people reblogged this before i could get around to correcting it, so likely no one will ever see this edit >:T)

Shiro Keshi[白罌粟]: White Poppyseed(Papaver somniferum)

thoughtfulness/consideration/compassion

pity/sympathy/understanding

death/sleep/forget/oblivion

I don't really know what to make of this... The specificity of White Poppy means the reading really should be "Death" or "Sleep" and I guess that kinda ties into Tousen losing his friend. But that feels like a stupidly loose connection. On the other hand the more general meaning of the poppy as "compassion/pity/sympathy" seems to match more of Tousen's actual relationships with his dead friend, with Komamura, and even to a lesser degree with Hisagi.

To "forget" or be lost in "oblivion" however feels like a very knowing and ominous point in the direction of Tousen having lost his way and forgotten himself in his quest for justice.

Suisen[水仙]: Daffodil(Narcissus tazetta)

esteem/respect/reverence

unrequited love

Another rather personal one. The general tone of Respect and Reverence and High Esteem could maybe refer to Hitsugaya's need to be taken seriously despite his age and stature, but that feels like loose and far too general fit at best. His unrequited love for Hinamori however suits this far better.

Nokogiri-sou[鋸草]: Siberian yarrow(Achillea sibirica)

to fight/to struggle

bravery/courage, but also healing/a cure/recovery

Obviously the "Fight" bit is super literal. Honestly that may be all there is to it though.

Azami[薊]: Japanese Thistle(Cirsium japonicum)

indepencence/separation

retaliation/revenge

strict/strern

not to be touched

I'm not actually so sure about this. The general theme of "sternness/strictness/discipline" I guess kind of fits? But I think the general kind of natural warning sign of "Do Not Touch" is really the best fit for both Mayuri and the department as a whole, although it feels oddly informal as a reading compared to the rest.

Matsuyuki-sou[待雪草]: Snowdrop(Galanthus nivalis)

relief/ease/comfort/solace

hope/desire/ambition/expectations

So the "Relief/Solace/etc..." bit certainly seems to fit Ukitake's demeanor as his terminal illness does indeed require him to frequently take an aside to lie down. But I was surprised to find that the "Hope/Desire/etc..." reading appeared here as well as with the Ayame, and I don't think it's coincidence that Kyoraku and Ukitake have matching themed flowers for their divisions.

Incidentally this also ties into Kaien as lt. since the Shiba name echos this same meaning of "Ambition".

Jinchou-ge[沈丁花]: Winter Daphne(Daphne odora)

Glory/Honor

Immortal/Indestructible/Eternal/Timeless

This one seems pretty obvious. "Glory" and "Indestructible" describe their reputation well enough, although they turned out to be far from indestructible, unfortunately.

It always kind of confused me that Kubo put their flower insignia inside the Gotei diamond, not only because they aren't supposed to be part of the gotei, but because it just seemed to break so many other design patterns... but then I realized that the only parts of the shinigami uniforms where the flowers are ever visible are on lt. badges(limiter stamps and the little sewn in tags being hidden) and there weren't any lieutenants in the royal guard.

Feels like a halfbaked idea to slap them on the coats just to make sure they show up somewhere, but then so was most of their introduction and role in the plot.

#bleach #bleach meta #shinigami #gotei 13 #yep.... #sure enough everyone is reblogging some version the unedited post #with my flagrant errors intact and on display #and none of the corrections #=______=

[lordofdestructionm]

The fear behind the manic grin

I know I have a reputation as a feral Vikdecai account (I mean can you blame me?) but all the characters in Lackadaisy are amazing and the main cast all have their own interesting stories playing out

Case in point the musical, poetic and lovably derranged Rocky Rockaby

There is one moment in the pilot where the feral energetic grinning persona slips and we see the face a of a broken young man in a state of total despair, before mercifully Mitzi decides to lighten the tone

This is key to understanding Rocky and his motivations

After being abandoned by his father and his mothers death from illness, Rocky was raised in his early years for a period of time by his Aunt Nina along with his cousin Calvin (Freckle)

However, due to some as yet unrevealed tragedy, Rocky was ejected from the Mcmurray house and spent the following years riding the rails

This is what we see the tail end of in the trailer for Season one

He stayed in touch with Calvin, writing him letters about his adventures, and as you would expect from a flamboyant personality he exaggerates what a big adventure it was how optimistic he was feeling at this time as he travelled from place to place working various assorted odd jobs between 1921 and 1924

The Lackadaisy Wicki provides a nice breakdown

But of course the reality is quite different. Having no home, no family and no friends outside what brief and fleeting acquaintances he made on the road took its toll

When he finally returns "home" to St Louis he attempts to reconnect with his deadbeat dad only to realize that he had skipped town quite some time ago and once again is not there for him.

Knowing better than to expect a warm welcome from Aunt Nina he is once again all alone with nowhere to go. Simply living on the streets with pidgeons as his only companions

But all that changes when he meets Mitzi May by chance around 1925 while busking in the street with his violin after charming her with his music.

This makes Mitzi his patron, and indeed his saviour from a vagrant existence when she lets him join Zib's band, then playing exclusively at the Lackadaisy speakeasy.

For the first time in years he has not only found somewhere seemingly more long term to be but back in the town he thinks of as home

But even this seemingly positive change does not get to last long. Atlas's death in 1926 throws everything into uncertainty and without its leader and despite Mitzi's best efforts things begin to decline both financially and in terms of manpower.

Those that remain do so for various reasons despite leaving arguably being the smartest option. Rocky does so because he is done with drifting and is determined to hold onto the solid ground he has found no matter what. He makes this desperation clear to Calvin

Though it should be noted while he wants the Lackadaisy to be saved he wants it done on very specific terms.

Specifically ones where he is the golden boy that saved the day.

He is desperate to ingratiate himself to Mitzi. This is in part due to gratitude to her as his "saviour", partly him having a crush on her, mostly its tied to his perception of her as a "damsel in distress" that he can ride in and rescue, and in the process secure a permanant place for himself

This is why in both the pilot and the comic he is so devastated when he sees that she is dissapointed with his efforts.

This is also why in both you can see a (barely) passive aggressive attitude towards Wick.

Its not just that he is a rival for Mitzi's affection. The friendly wealthy industrialist, who clearly has a thing for the beautiful widow, threatens to make Rocky and his efforts to be the Knight in shining armour redundant, and equally so Rocky himself.

If he invested his money in the Speakeasy he would be the hero and Rocky would just be the clown that tried so hard (risking his life even) but failed, only for some handsome aristocrat to stroll in with his chequebook

Rocky fears being adrift again. Of feeling alone and unwanted again. He is willing to go to extreme lengths to prevent that from happening.

To feel wanted, included and loved he will start as many fires and thow as much dynamite and dodge was many bullets as it takes

#lackadaisy #lackadaisycats #tracy j butler #rocky rickaby #character motivation #comic #season one #pilot #trailer #1920s #cats #gangsters #prohibition #calvin mcmurray #nina mcmurray #mitzi may #backerkit #freckle #wick sable

[snailsnfriends]

C!Tommy and Love, Despite, Despite, Despite: An Essay

Tommy’s entire life story on the SMP can be characterized by a lot of different things. You could see it as a coming of age story, where we watch as Tommy works his way through his teens in strenuous circumstances. You could see it as a story of abuse and the effects of it, the before and after of what Tommy undergoes during Exile. You could see it as a story of strength, of disappointment, of deterioration. You could see it as all of these. None of them are wrong. However, there is one key part of Tommy’s story that remains strong, from beginning to end. Love is what best characterizes Tommy’s story on the Dream SMP. Almost every arc has love at its core, and it is the biggest thing that shapes Tommy and his decisions. 

This essay was written under the assumption that Boundless Sands was Tommy’s finale. I know that it isn’t, but for the sake of this essay, that’s what it is. To maintain my sanity, I started with the Disc War. I am sorry early SMP fans. So with that out of the way, let’s begin. 

Word count: 3.2k

Tommy’s attachment to the discs is one of his first displays of extreme love toward something. He cares very deeply for the discs and finds that they bring him comfort. As time goes on, these discs become more and more important to him, which is why Dream going after them is such an issue. It really is the introduction of love as a larger theme for Tommy and Dream, and it sets the tone for the rest of their stories. Tommy fights tooth and nail to keep the discs in his possession, no matter how much the war presents issues in his day-to-day life. It would be easy to let go of the discs, to give them up and to live peacefully on his own. However, Tommy refuses to do this, not only because of his stubborn nature, but because of how much he loves the discs. As previously stated, they bring him comfort and they remind him of Tubbo, his best friend. Love is what drives Tommy to fight for his discs.

Love is also what drives Tommy to give away his discs later for L’Manberg’s independence. Despite how much the discs mean to him, Tommy is willing to part with them if it means that he and his loved ones can be free of Dream’s terror. No one asks him to do this. No one expects him to do this. Yet still, he gives away something he loves, he gives away what has essentially become a part of himself, in order to better the lives of his family. L’Manberg and the home it created is a big part of Tommy’s life, and the love he has for it is clear throughout his entire story. He grows to see it as a family, and he grows very close to Wilbur at this time, even seeing him as a brother. Tommy idolizes Wilbur a lot in this arc and really looks up to him as a leader. This is, once again, an act of love. L’Manberg provides a safe place for Tommy and Tubbo to fuck around, and the nurturing envoirment only feeds into Tommy’s love for it. Tommy dedicates himself to L’Manberg and even dies for it, not because he is asked to, not because he is pressured to, but because he genuinely loves L’Manberg and the people within it. 

When Tommy and Wilbur lose L’Manberg after the elections, it is love that spares Tommy from having a complete breakdown. His love for the country and for Wilbur is what fuels him to have a positive outlook in a time of despair. He knows that if he fights hard enough, if he loves hard enough, he will be able to return to the home that he helped create and he will be able to help Wilbur get out of the state that he’s in. Tommy’s time in Pogtopia is a very big test for him because he lost the two biggest beacons of stability he had: L’Manberg and Wilbur. There are many instances of Wilbur scaring Tommy, or acting “unkind” (in Tommy’s words). Moments like, “let’s be the bad guys,” “you’re never gonna be president,” “Tubbo? He’s lying to you man!” and the pit scene are moments of extreme stress for Tommy. He understands that something is wrong with Wilbur, but he doesn’t know how to articulate that or how to help. Despite seeing his brother in this state and facing the brunt of his spiral (because Tommy is the person most available), Tommy never gives up on Wilbur. Yes, he is upset with Wilbur, is scared of Wilbur, and is, in many instances, angry with Wilbur. But this does not stop Tommy from believing that Wilbur is beyond help or saving. He sticks with Wilbur because he loves Wilbur. He believes that by saving L’Manberg, he can save Wilbur. When it is revealed that a traitor is part of Pogtopia, he refuses to believe that Wilbur is a suspect, despite seeing the button room with his own eyes and restraining Wilbur after seeing him in a suicidal state. It does not matter that all the signs pointed to Wilbur. Tommy loved Wilbur, and knew that there was goodness in him, so he absolutely refused to let Wilbur go until he was no longer given a choice in the matter (he was never given a choice, but you get what I mean). There were many points in Pogtopia where Tommy had every reason to leave, especially after the Green Festival and Wilbur’s behavior in the aftermath. He was free to go at any time. But it was his love for Wilbur and for L’Manberg that prevented Tommy from giving up. 

Wilbur committing suicide on the 16th, though not a suprise for the audience, was a surprise for Tommy. As previously stated, he truly believed that if they got L’Manberg back, which they did, Wilbur would get better. Obviously, this wasn’t correct, and Tommy feels very mixed when it comes to Wilbur from now on. He feels betrayed and is suddenly isolated. He no longer knows how to view Wilbur. Idolization was easy for Tommy, but grieving was not. He understood that Wilbur was not behaving correctly, but he couldn’t bring himself to be angry with Wilbur for long periods of time, because he still loved Wilbur. It’s something that he really struggles to grapple with, how he can love someone despite being hurt by them. Tommy at this time was accustomed to black-and-white thinking, so this sudden shift was overwhelming. Despite his feelings toward Wilbur, he loves Ghostbur, who we’ll come back to during the Exile arc. Before that though, he burns down George’s house with Ranboo, and the Exile confrontation begins. Tommy believes that his friendship, or, his love for Tubbo will save him from Exile. Tommy being proven wrong on this front is something that changes his and Tubbo’s friendship forever. Even though it was proven to him before that love couldn’t save everyone, he still put his faith in it. This line of thinking is questioned even further during Exile.

Love being at the center of Tommy’s story is part of what makes Exile so horrifying. During Exile, Tommy is deprived of love and connection to other people, and this isolation is part of the reason why he attempts suicide later on. Dream has taken notice of Tommy’s love for others and for objects and uses this knowledge to abuse Tommy. He takes away Tommy’s items and blows them up in front of him because he wants Tommy to feel as if he has nothing to love. He is not allowed an outlet to feel any positive emotion. This also ensured that any item Dream gave to Tommy, like the trident, would make him have a highly emotional response, and then taking that away would create an even bigger upset. The compass Ghostbur gives to Tommy elicits this highly emotional response. Tommy considers throwing it away, but doesn’t, because he loves Tubbo, despite being Exiled by him. The beach party only further cements this feeling. Tommy is made to feel as if no one loves him. When love is a large part of what drives Tommy, this can only be a problem. On the final day of Exile, when Dream calls Tommy a bug, making him feel insignificant and like a burden, he feels most unloved. Dream had tried, and succeeded, in making Tommy believe that he was Tommy’s only friend. But by saying this, he has made it clear that he does not love, let alone care for Tommy, the way a friend should. This, along with the other instances of abuse during Exile, is what drives Tommy to attempt suicide. While on the verge of attempting, Tommy realizes that Dream is not his friend, that love is not present, that he has been starved of it for an extended period of time. But because he knows that it does not have to be this way, he wills himself to leave his Exile and to seek refuge in a place that will not only provide safety, but also love: Technoblade’s house. 

Tommy’s relationship with Technoblade, though complicated near the end, was one of love in care, even if that wasn’t explicitly shown all the time. Techno made an effort to include Tommy in his plans, even if he was more of a liability than a helping hand. He let Tommy live in his house and build on his land, even if these builds were an eyesore or a clear indication that Tommy was hiding in his house. He lied right to Dream’s face to save Tommy. These are all, at their core, acts of love, and ones that Tommy responds to positively. Throughout the arc, Tommy is in a delicate state; he is in the process of learning how to live without the threat of abuse looming over his head. It is this love that aids Tommy in his journey. Ghostbur is present for both this arc and Exile, and his friendship is just as important to Tommy. Ghostbur does stir up some bouts of sadness in Tommy just because he’s also Wilbur in a way, but simply being Tommy’s friend and showing him compassion helps Tommy feel better, even in darker moments. He helps Tommy’s grieving process, in a way, by being an outlet for Tommy’s emotions. Tommy doesn’t necessarily get the answers he wants, but he gets something, and that something is taken to heart. Later on in the arc, in the Community House conflict, Tommy says that the discs were worth more than Tubbo. This, obviously, is not true, and Tommy immediately regrets it. He realizes that he does not like the person he is becoming. He does not want to be violent or defensive. He realizes that love was missing in his actions and motivations, which was part of why he was acting in such a hostile way. Tubbo and Tommy go on to apologize for what they’ve done quickly before beginning preparations for Doomsday.

Tommy does not want New L’Manberg to be blown up because it was, at one point, his home, and he knows that people will be put in danger if it’s blown up. However, the even bigger part of this is that Tommy saw Wilbur and L’Manberg as the same thing, so if L’Manberg was destroyed, Wilbur would be destroyed as well. L’Manberg was one of the last “good things” Tommy had of Wilbur, so he didn’t want to see it be ripped apart. This, again, is an example of love as one of Tommy’s motivations; he does not want to see something and someone he loves get blown up for the second time. When the event actually occurs, he argues with Techno so much not just because he disagrees with what’s going on, but because he sees Techno as his friend. He wants to reach some kind of middle ground. Him fighting to make Techno, Dream and Phil stop is an act of love toward L’Manberg and Wilbur. 

The Disc War Finale, as a whole, can be characterized by love. For Tommy specifically though, this takes many forms. While fighting with Dream, Tubbo is compromised and Tommy is forced to choose between the discs (which he thought were real), and Tubbo. It is true that Tommy hesitated, and it’s definitely not one of his greatest moments. But this hesitation takes place because of the amount of stress he is under. If he gives up his discs, he’ll have Tubbo, but he will not be free from Dream’s harassment. If he lets Tubbo die, which is what Tubbo is insisting on because he knows what the stakes are, then he will be free to live in peace. Despite the offering of freedom, Tommy rejects it in favor of saving Tubbo, his best friend. Tommy gave up what he thought was the only way to be relieved from Dream’s abuse in favor of protecting his best friend. This is an act of love. Later on in the stream, when Tommy was told of Dream’s plan to kill Tubbo, he pleaded for a different option, for any other resolution, if it meant that Tubbo could live. Tommy was willing to place himself in danger, in the hands of his abuser, if it meant that Tubbo could live. I sound like a broken record at this point, but this is an act of love. After everyone on the server piles in and Tommy kicks Dream’s ass, (“Dream, put your armor in the hole” will always be iconic) Dream reveals that he has the power to revive people, and would be willing to revive Wilbur. Here, Tommy is presented with yet another deal that involves his freedom. He can either kill Dream and never have to worry about being targeted by him again, or he could keep Dream around and run that risk for even the possibility that Dream would revive Wilbur. Tommy chooses Wilbur. Time and time again, Tommy chooses Wilbur, because he loves Wilbur. They lock Dream up in prison, Tommy takes his discs, and listens to them with Tubbo while Wilbur speaks to Tommy through the mortal plain. In this moment, Tommy acts with love, and receives it as well. 

The Hotel Arc is Tommy’s healing arc, and it is here where he learns how to direct the love he gives to others to himself. With Dream locked away, he has the opportunity to process his traumas and his actions, which he hadn’t been able to really do since Wilbur’s death. This process helps him reconnect with others and with himself. He gains a better understanding of how he reacts in high pressure situations, and he learns how to really live again, not just survive, without someone else watching over him. He builds the Big Innit Hotel and invites most of the server, including Techno, because he wants his hotel to be a place of refuge if things go to shit. He wanted to be there for others, even for those he wasn’t on good terms with. Obviously, this is an act of love. Tommy does a lot of introspective work at this time, and grants himself the patience to work through his issues. He allows himself to be optimistic, and he works very hard to get better. All of these are acts of love, just directed inward. 

Tommy’s acts of love do not make another appearance until Wilbur’s revival because, unsurprisingly, being killed and then brought back by your abuser does not leave a lot of room for love (though this can be its own essay). Tommy is very callous toward Wilbur when he is first revived, and even says that Wilbur should be dead. Not a great start. But it doesn’t take long for Tommy to begin giving Wilbur a tour of the server. Even when Wilbur says that he never cared for L’Manberg, even when he tries to physically fight Tommy, Tommy never stops giving Wilbur the tour. This is an act of love, because Wilbur is clearly antagonizing Tommy, yet Tommy does not leave when he has every chance to do so. This, however, is unhealthy, and really marks the start of their complicated relationship post revival. This behavior only continues when Wilbur and Tommy create Paradise next to Las Nevadas. Wilbur hurts Tommy here as well by fighting with Quackity over who was the “better choice” and by practically begging Tommy to stay with him. Right before he leaves, Wilbur says, “what could go wrong in a prison?” after Tommy repeatedly stated that Dream was dangerous, and that he died in the prison because of Dream. Clearly, Tommy isn’t being treated well, and he’s aware of that fact. Yet he still decides to stick with Wilbur, even if it’s against his better judgment. He loves Wilbur and now struggles to see himself without him. Tommy staying with Wilbur is an act of love, but like last time, is an unhealthy one. This unhealthy behavior doesn’t really stop at all, and frankly, it just gets worse. 

Tommy really trusts Wilbur, despite having no real reason to. This is an act of love. In the Inconsolable Differences stream, Tommy reveals that he was driven to suicide due to the abuse he endured from Dream. This in and of itself is an act of extreme love and trust. He has not told anyone about what happened to him in Exile, let alone the end result of it. The fact that he told Wilbur is an extreme display of trust. Wilbur then creates a plan to get back at Dream without telling Tommy any of the details. Wilbur just asks Tommy for the discs and to trust him. This is a huge ask. The discs are not only an attachment, but a representation of Tommy’s freedom. And Dream is a touchy, dangerous subject for Tommy. Yet still, he agrees to the plan blindly. This is another act of love. He trusts Wilbur enough to just say yes with little to no questions. Obviously, after the plan is enacted, Tommy is rightfully upset and pissed. Wilbur not only threatened to kill himself again, but he also got rid of Tommy’s discs. This is an extreme breach of trust, and Tommy digs into him. When Wilbur reveals that he didn’t get rid of the real discs, Tommy is stunned into silence. Wilbur explains that Tommy is now free, and Tommy thanks him. None of this stops Tommy from hanging out with Wilbur even more, which is a display of love, but again, it’s unhealthy. Wilbur is aware that he and Tommy are not good for one another at the moment. He knows that they are too reliant on one another, and that reliance hurts them both. He acknowledges that there is love there, but the hurt does not outweigh it. This comes to a head in their last stream together, Boundless Sands. Wilbur, purposefully vaguely, tells Tommy that he is leaving. Tommy notices that Wilbur is speaking the way that Tommy himself used to speak during Exile: vaguely, sadly, with the clear intention of death at the end of it without saying “death” specifically. This, understandably, freaks Tommy out, and when Wilbur does not let up on the vagueness, Tommy hits him with his sword. He immediately regrets this and says, “I never used to be this angry.” This is pretty much the biggest example of why they should be apart. One causes the other too much stress, and it ends with both of them getting hurt. Wilbur then drops the act and explains that he’s going to Utah. Wilbur tells him that he was L’Manberg, and that it was made to protect him. They exchange words and a book, and then Wilbur leaves. Tommy is really upset by this, but he doesn’t try to stop Wilbur from leaving. He doesn’t threaten him with violence, he doesn’t beg. He stands on the shore and watches as Wilbur rows out into the sea. Instead of fighting, he lets Wilbur go in the hope that he’ll be happier. This is the final act of love that Tommy gives to Wilbur, and it is the final act of love that is reciprocated.  Tommy is a story of hope, of friendship, of attachment, of triumph, of primes. Tommy is a story of grief, of brothers, of homes, of healing, of failed pranks. But at the heart of all of it, Tommy is a story of love. It is present in almost every part of his life. By loving others and himself, Tommy learns how to live, despite, despite, despite.

#dream smp #tommyinnit #this is my analysis magnum opus #i will never write something this long ever again #basic thesis but it needs that #because this is the entire smp. basically #anyways. time to go stare at a wall for five hours #snailtrail.slimes #tw abuse #tw suicide

[nat20composure]

Man ok sorry I am constantly being critical on here but I keep thinking about how the shift from body positivity to neutrality happened and what sort of people spear headed it and getting really frustrated so I'm just posting it here:

I genuinely understand that a lot of people want to decenter the value of beauty from their lives because of the superficial nature of beauty and the Genuine Earth Shattering despair that caring about beauty can bring but like? One thing I have noticed is that a LOT of the people who are speaking in favor of body neutrality over body positivity are people who....are relatively close to or in proximity to the beauty standard?

And don't get me wrong, things like body dysmorphia and the Beauty Standard TM can hurt all sorts of people- It's kind of the point of them. The fact that nobody will ever be good enough for the standard is what keeps people consuming things and products that will bring them "closer" to it. But it does not escape me that a lot of the people who are pushing for body neutrality are also people that don't necessarily benefit from trying to broaden what we define as beautiful? Like....even if you don't FEEL beautiful, if you were a thin conventionally attractive white person, your proximity to the conventional beauty standard can leave you feeling like there is no need or benefit to actually challenging these beauty standards.

To clarify the perspective I am approaching this conversation from: I am a POC who is pretty "ambiguously brown". I benefit from colorism in the sense that I am of a lighter-medium tone of skin. And I have experienced some pretty drastic weight fluctuations since I was a child. I struggle pretty badly with body dysmorphia, and so I have no idea whether or not I am ugly or beautiful or whatever, but I have been bullied and complimented on my appearance on and off since childhood as well. For me personally the body positivity movement has been the Most helpful because it's actually forced me to confront and break down the preferences I was taught to have, whereas with body neutrality it was REALLY easy to slip into just. Passively allowing ableist, racist, and classist mindsets to wear me down.

I think it's also really important to recognize that allowing yourself to continue to passively hate YOURSELF for these things almost always always always leads to you inadvertently looking down on others for these same things. And these general beauty standards DEFINITELY inform how society as a whole treats people who do not meet the current ones.... When you're not being bullied because people think you are ugly, of course you do not feel any urgency about trying to fight the idea that you are.

I personally really appreciated the body positivity movement because of the way that it was proactively challenging those beauty standards to point out that one) our perception of beauty is rooted in a lot of racist and classist standards and two) that because beauty is subjective, it inherently applies to all of us?

I just feel like body positivity was doing a lot more to actually work on rewiring ones brain to confront the biases that they have and to garner more of a proactive appreciation for all kinds of bodies...Whereas with body neutrality, it can sometimes feel like it is? A bit of an excuse to never put in that work to acknowledge that fat people, or people with big noses, or people with acne, or people with darker skin, are also beautiful? It's really frustrating with me because I feel like it allows a passive coasting by of these mindsets that we were all raised with, with the argument that these are mindsets we were all raised with?

I think additionally I am also just a bit frustrated with the idea that there is a "better" standard to use when judging the value of one's body. I understand the mindset of prioritizing it's function over it's appearance....Also as a disabled person that does not make me feel even a little bit better or appreciatiative about/for my body.

I think personally what I wish the mindset was when it came to bodies was more like this:

-We acknowledged that the value of our bodies is priceless regardless of how functional or beautiful we are.

-We still worked towards unpacking our conceptions of what is and isn't beautiful: Challenged these harmful standards and allowed room for personal growth in the way that we view ourselves and other people.

-Prioritized personhood over both form and function while still allowing room and grace for the human parts of us that want to feel beautiful or want to not think about beauty at all.....

Just. Blah I have a lot of feelings and opinions about it but my main points are like) consider how your refusal to endure the discomfort of challenging your preferences affects and informs your treatment of other people and)

#body posititivity #body neutrality #fat acceptance #fat activism #beauty standards #beauty culture

[little-shadows-story]

Little Shadows Volume 2 | Tale 1– "The Researcher"

Content Warning: Body horror.

His coworker had been replaced by another, and only he noticed.

He knew it when he grew a head taller from one day to the other, when his limbs became larger and nobody said anything. When his eyes changed its color and his voice its tone, he started to avoid even looking at him. To see him walk in the lab as if it was a day like any other, while his stretched body advanced barely moving its joints gave him goosebumps.

His suspicions only grew when he started asking him obvious things. When he had the bad luck of being in the changing room at the same time as him, the last one asked the first one about the scars under his chest, even though he had been there as moral support for his surgery. When he approached without making a sound from behind while the other used his phone, he asked him about the girl that showed his phone’s wallpaper, even though he had met his daughter many times before. And in several occasions he didn’t react when his name was called, as if he’d forgotten his own name until, when remembering it, he laughed with a smile so big it hurt to just watch.

As the days passed, the changes started to become more repulsive. The bulging eyes without eyelids, the ribs and the spine started to show of how much he was slimming down, the hair became thinner and the skin paler… And the height. The heigh that didn’t stop augmenting was unbearable to the sight.

When had that started? He tried to remember, in vain. Where did that good man, that had helped him in so many ways, had gone? He didn’t see anywhere the gentle smile, replaced now by a grin that tried to look like one, with falling yellow teeth. The wasn’t either sign of the hands that once made his heart beat faster with just a touch, now there were only some bony things left that cracked every time he moved them.

He couldn’t go to work with eased mind anymore. The sight of that being was too much, and he wanted to skip work many times. HE though of quitting, but he couldn’t; he was legally tied to that lab and that organization. IF he was alone, maybe he could bare the consequences, but his daughter? He couldn’t leave her alone, not force her to a life of persecution. He had no choice but to hold in the cold sweat that overcame him whenever that thing, once a loved man, appeared in front of his eyes.

He endured a month like this… Two… Three…

By the fourth one, he felt he was going insane. How come no one else saw it? Why? The creature had such a height that it’d started to bend to fit inside the building. Day after day he asked himself: where did it came from? What’d happened to his coworker? Where was he now, while that beast tricked everyone posing as him?

In a fit of despair, he sneaked towards the guard’s office to see the security recordings. He saw with horror that the creature was also reflected there and went back in time trying to figure out when the change had happened. One month ago, then two…three…four…

He found it. An accident in which their test subject had gone out of control and during which his coworker ended up in the floor, hit in the face by it. That was the only proof he had of something out of the ordinary happening to him. After it, they’d done tests, but didn’t find anything wrong with him. Had they missed it? Had he been affected by the test subject somehow? Or something worse had happened, something that ate at him from the inside and changed him inside out? Whatever it was, he needed to show that to his superiors, so they’d do something about it, thus he saved the record in an USB and turned around to leave.

The creature was by the door. He screamed. Then, with a voice like a grave out of tune note, it spoke:

“You can see me, right?”

Before he could run away, it extended its long arms and took him by the neck with its claws. A kiss he’d only dreamed about in another time, now seemed so repulsive that he stopped breathing. A tongue too rough and slimy extended through his throat, and tears fell from his eyes as he fought back to free himself. When it let him go, he fell to the ground, coughing and vomiting. He shook from head to toe, with the blood cold and the heart thumping.

He felt dizzy. There was a numbing sensation going through his body that made him lose his senses slowly. Where was he again? What was he doing? Uncertainty made him pale. Had that beast infected him too?

Little by little he stood up, but he wasn’t the one controlling his body. Neither was he who left the lab, got inside the car, and drove home. He wanted to scream, cry, ask for help, tear off the skin that didn’t belong to him anymore, all useless. He took out his keys and opened the main door. His daughter played with her dolls sitting in the living room’s rug.

When he hugged the child, the penumbra overcame him.

------

Start Vol. 1 / Start Vol. 2 (you're here!) / Next (coming soon)

#writeblr #little shadows #writing #writers #wip #lss #little shadows story #short fiction #horror #short story #fiction #tw body horror #hoooooo boi here we go #vol2 is like. like. like idk how things will turn out by the end of vol2 when it comes to if people will like it or what #I'm doing it anyways tho because im brnging again the Just Do It energy to this year