#i had this idea before the [redacted] stuff happened | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

teamatsumu · 3 months

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purple and pink. (rafayel x reader)

summary: you and rafayel cover yourselves in paint and (redacted).

word count: 3450

warnings: porn without plot, smut, swearing, nsfw, mdni, fem!reader

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

a/n: my brain is rotting for this man so this is just self indulgent crap atp

You weren’t exactly an artistic person.

You just never indulged in art before. Of course, you admired the craft and thought it was extremely difficult to actually create meaningful art. But you didn’t think you were a particularly creative person, nor did you think you had an eye for such stuff.

Ever since you began dating Rafayel, you would say your appreciation for art had definitely improved. How could it not, considering he spent all day creating it, and in the time he wasn’t, his world was still colored by the lens of it. Rafayel saw art everywhere he went, in the gentle roll of the water where it rippled in fountains, or the timid but pinpoint light of a lone star in a dark sky. He loved describing it to you, and the way he put it would make you look around twice. He had really changed the way you viewed the world.

What you were about to do now wasn’t exactly the kind of art that made you think deeply of the universe, but hey, not all art can make you question your existence. Sometimes you need to create….. lighter pieces.

Stepping back, you stared down at the bed sheet sized canvas you had stuck to the floor, sure that you had used enough adhesive to keep it temporarily in place. The clock on the far wall of the studio told you that Rafayel would be home in a little while, which meant you needed to start the next phase of your plan shortly. But first things first, you needed lighter clothes.

After you had switched your jeans and button down shirt for a thin, short robe, you began pulling down buckets of paint from the storage closet connecting to the main studio. You chose only two, a light purple and a light pink. Both colors you knew Rafayel liked using in his pieces. You might not know a whole lot about art, but you knew him inside out. And you also knew he would love this idea.

You spent the next few minutes going over the canvas with the two buckets, pouring a few globs of paint over it. Small, but dense, with lots of blank canvas around them so they could be spread. You decided to only do two or three globs of each color. After all, wasn’t the art in how the colors would move and slide on the canvas? This should be enough paint for that purpose.

Your face was heating up at the thought of what was about to happen, and you felt almost giddy. When was he going to be home? You couldn’t wait to get started.

As if on cue, the door of the studio clicked open, not making a single sound as your boyfriend lumbered in, closing the door behind him. His white shirt was loose, black pants tight, and you couldn’t help but admire his ass when he turned around to shut the door with a light snap.

“Hey-” He stopped almost immediately upon seeing you, eyeing the half empty paint can you were setting down and the flimsy robe covering your body. A body that was definitely naked under it.

“What are you doing?” You saw his eyes flick over you and then behind to eye the massive canvas you had laid out, along with the little circles of paint looking fresh and shiny on it. You gave him a grin.

“I was hoping we could collaborate for your next piece.” You tugged at his shirt until you both stood closer to the canvas, taking special joy in how confused he looked. His eyes kept darting all over the place to try and make sense of what was going on, and you had to stifle a giggle.

You thought to elaborate on your suggestion by slowly unbuttoning his crisp white shirt. Rafayel raised his eyebrows but didn’t stop you, probably curious to see what you were cooking. You tugged his shirt off his toned shoulders, before going to work on his pants. His hand finally seized yours, tilting his head so your eyes would meet his.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” His tone was amused. You hummed almost in thought, pulling your hand away. You tugged on the belt of your robe until it slipped free, and the front fell open. You saw the tips of Rafayel’s ears turn red, and his expression blanked a bit.

“You have paint. You have a canvas. And you have me.” Your voice was a low whisper. You reached into the bucket next to you, palms stretched, until they were both covered in paint. Then you reached one hand up and dragged your fingertips over his bare abs.

The cool paint made them contract a bit, and you heard the way his breath hitched under the touch. Four long streaks of pink now stood out against his pale skin. Finally, you looked back up to meet his gaze, his face inches from yours.

Rafayel’s blush had extended from his ears down to his neck, but the corner of his lip twitched up into a slow grin. His hands were eager as he undid the button of his pants, and you felt a thrill run up your spine. You watched him undress quickly. He was slow, smooth, as he lifted one precise hand to tug on the shoulder of your loose robe until it was falling off your shoulders and pooling at your feet.

He looked around and his eyes caught the second can of paint. Purple. He dipped his hands into it, and you watched him walk back over to you.

“Where did you get this idea, baby?” His voice had lost its confusion, coated in honey now, sultry and low, nearly a whisper, and you shivered when his breath hit your bare neck. He took advantage of the fact that your hair was pulled up and away from your shoulders, tracing gentle lips over the slope of your shoulder. Instinctively, your hands smoothed over his torso, and you were reminded of the paint on them, still wet, now swiped onto the man before you.

Rafayel hummed at the feeling and proceeded to return the favor, his hands set on your hips. The paint was cool on your skin, and you almost jumped at the temperature if it weren’t for his warm hands taking the feeling away in the next second. Your boyfriend gave your naked bodies a gentle tug backwards until you were stepping on paper, slight crinkling noises hitting your ears.

Gentle lips now made contact with yours, and you sighed in relief. You had missed this, just the feeling of him kissing you. You had been thinking about it- and other things- all day, and you were so excited to start. Hands caressed over each other slowly but eagerly, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how much paint you had managed to get on each other.

Your kisses became more hurried, more firm, and you could feel Rafayel’s body temperature rise a bit. His breath stuttered when you moaned into his mouth, tongues dancing together in a synchronized battle. He nibbled at your bottom lip and you arched deeply into him, nails digging into his biceps.

“Fuck, the paint is drying.” You managed to gasp out when your lips separated, his mouth finding the skin behind your ear immediately. He sucked hard on it, until you shivered and let out a long, shaky breath. Your knees were so weak, and you were glad for his strong arms wrapped around your waist, since it was the only thing currently holding you up.

He hummed against your skin, not letting up on the marks he was marring it with. You had discovered pretty early on that Rafayel was a biter, and marks on your skin was another way he created art. It just so happened that you enjoyed the feeling more than you could ever think to describe.

“Good thing you laid more out for us then.” He responded, referring to the globs just below your feet, before tugging you down until you were sprawled on the canvas below you. It was cool under your skin, and you felt something wet just under your shoulder. Oh. Your eyes met Rafayel’s before they finally traveled down his body for the first time since you two had started. You gulped in a deep breath.

His pale skin was covered in purple and pink streaks, like smooth color streaked over brilliant porcelain. The ridges and bumps of his muscles stood out even more under the paint, and you could tell in a few places the exact route your hands had taken, pink running over his waist and down his V-line. The remnants of the journey your fingers took stood before you, proud on his skin. You felt a thrill run through you at the sight, something stirred in your core.

“This is turning you on.” Rafayel observed, a light smirk resting on his face. You felt your body burn at the teasing lilt of his voice.

“As if this isn’t something you’ve dreamed of doing.” You retaliated, opening your legs so he could fit himself between them, resting his elbows on either side of you so your faces were a hairbreadth away. He hummed and sighed, lowering his body until his erection grazed right over your center, making you gasp.

“Believe me, I’ve dreamed of this.” He sighed, reached for the paint to the left and just above your head. You watched him cover his palm with it before he reached down, hooking a hand under your knee and pulling it up until it folded against your torso. The paint was wet on your skin, and you were learning to love the feeling more and more. His cock prodded your entrance, now on full display for him. He gave you another mischievous smirk.

“Baby I’m about to ruin you so bad.”

The first slide of him inside you had you crying out and arching into him, his cock carving its way through your unprepped hole and bringing with it a burn so delicious it made your head spin. When he bottomed out, he moaned unabashedly into your ear, hot breath hitting the shell of it and sending shivers through your spine. Your core clenched and unclenched rapidly, trying to adjust to the glorious intrusion. Your brain screamed at him to move, to slide in and out, do anything at all. You needed to feel him rock into you. Your hips twitched and jerked, making your boyfriend moan before he finally started moving.

His thrusts started out languid, smooth, gliding in and out of you at a reasonable pace. You sighed, head leaned back and reveling in the feeling it brought, leg tensing under his grip. Little tendrils of pleasure zipped up from where you were connected, heavy cock stretching you open until your pussy was adequately wet, ready to take the pounding you knew was inevitably coming your way.

And oh, did you receive it.

Slowly, steadily, Rafayel picked up the pace until his hips were smacking hard into your pelvis, knocking every breath from your lungs. You cried out, one arm thrown over his shoulder while the other seeked desperate purchase under you, used to the feeling of silk sheets but now met with nothing but smooth, stretched out canvas and the wet sensation of sticky color. Rafayel used the grip he had on your knee to twist your leg out further, inviting him to hit that one spot that made you see stars. A broken wail left your mouth and your back arched impossibly high, hearing a low moan hit your ear when you clenched tight around the cock pounding into you.

“F-fuck, Rafi-” His head lifted, just enough to connect your lips in a desperate slurry of rushed kisses, sucking and biting on your lips as his pace didn’t so much as stutter. Your moans dissolved straight into his mouth, little pornographic ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’s slipping out with every thrust. You didn’t bother muffling them, knowing exactly what the noises did for Rafayel’s ego, and with how he was ravishing you currently, you were okay with giving him a little ego boost.

(You would deal with the consequences of that later.)

“Gonna cum-” You managed to choke out just as your orgasm rammed into you with no warning, effectively silencing any other words as you cried and shook through it, muscles seized tight and legs kicking in the air.

“God- fuck,” Rafayel’s first words. “There you go. Fuck, that’s it.”

He fucked you through the last vestiges of your high before his arms slipped under your arched waist and lifted you up, rolling over until you were perched on his hips, throbbing cock still nestled inside you. The change in position made him slide in deeper, and you let out a broken moan. Your orgasm was still lingering around the edges, encouraging you to prolong the feeling, to chase after it again. And so you did. You rolled your hips, placing your hands on Rafayel’s abs as leverage to push your body up and down. You finally took a good look at your boyfriend.

His chest was heaving with exertion, shining under the glow of the lights above you, catching on the swirling mixes of purple and pink. Under the paint, his skin glistened with sweat, tensing and straining under his movements. The paint had reached all the way up the side of his neck, and even into his hair, blending with the purple tresses. The purple complimented his eyes, half lidded and heavy with lust, his lip was tucked under his teeth.

He was a vision.

“Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice was fractured and strained, and in your staring you had forgotten that you were also the object of his gaze. You couldn’t imagine how you looked right now, slathered with paint and hot under the stimulation you were receiving, strands of hair leaving your bun and trailing down over your face and neck. You rolled your hips and tightened hard around his cock, watching the way his jaw slackened and eyes rolled shut. Another zip of pleasure ran through you, and you couldn’t help but keen, pushing yourself to go faster, to make him feel even better.

“I’m- I’m so close.” You could feel your vision swim, tears gathering in your lash line as his cock dug deep into your core, prodding into your spongy walls in all the right ways. Rafayel grabbed both your wrists off his chest, pulling them behind your back and then tugging you down until your body was pinned tight against his. You let him do as he pleased, planting his feet on the canvas before he started thrusting hard and fast up into your sopping cunt.

You screamed and arched, body tensing at the pace he set, chin resting on his shoulder and head thrown back as you let him carry you face first into another orgasm, gushing around him until the sounds of his thrusts grew impossibly wetter, sloppier than the paint around you and covering you, blabbering incoherent phrases and curses as tears poured from your eyes. With every thrust, the ecstasy prolonged itself, like an endless high that came with intense drugs, except all you needed was him, and he would get you there if it was the last thing he did.

Your perspective was shifting, Rafayel’s cock leaving you until you felt cold and empty. He maneuvered you onto your hands and knees, or rather, arms and knees since you felt that you couldn’t even hold yourself up at this point. A firm hand pushed on your back until it arched to his liking, spreading you until he could slide his massive length back into you with little to no resistance. You whimpered pathetically, eyes rolling unhindered in your head, cheek smushed into the paper beneath you. Briefly, you felt like you could almost taste the paint, but the thought left your brain faster than cigarette smoke dissipating on a windy day when Rafayel started moving again.

“Stop me if you can’t take it.”

You could never, would never stop him, not when your pussy keened at the feeling of his cock filling you up to fulfillment once more. Especially not when he planted a foot on your side that gave him leverage to thrust harder and stronger into you. Your body buzzed and reveled under the feeling of being used like this, basking in the sounds coming from Rafayel getting heavier and choppier as he finally chased his own orgasm instead of yours. You wanted nothing more than for him to warm you up, fill you with his seed until you couldn’t take any more of it. Your depraved mind was wiped blank of everything else except that crushing need.

“Cum in me.” You managed to whine, clenching hard around him. Rafayel moaned and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck. I’m gonna- I’m cumming baby, take it, take it, take it, take it-” Your body jostled at the strength of his thrusts, once, twice, and then he was slamming his cock deep into you and holding it there, hot spurts of cum hitting your walls. Painting your insides white like your bodies had painted your outsides purple and pink.

Your entire body collapsed on itself when Rafayel pulled out, dropping onto the paper heavily as you tried to catch your breath. Your vision was swimming and so was your head, unable to do anything but focus on the faint buzz in your muscles. You could hear shuffling somewhere behind you before you were being lifted into strong arms. You sighed and curled into them, seeking the warmth of your boyfriend after the beating your body just took. And he was happy to provide it- in the tub he ran for you while both of you settled into warm water.

You dozed in and out of sleep as Rafayel cleaned you up, giggling and humming along with whatever little anecdotes he was telling you. He knew you would barely remember most of it later, considering how dopey and spacey you got after sex. You pouted and leaned up to him every few minutes, stealing tiny kisses from his lips. And afterwards, you let him pat you dry and put you to bed in the usual “princess treatment” he gave you after one of your sessions. The only time he backed off from teasing you relentlessly and instead doted on you properly.

You couldn’t tell how long you slept, but you woke up feeling well rested. The bed next to you was empty but still slightly warm, and you could hear quiet shuffling outside in the studio.

Your muscles screamed when you forced them to move, your hips and thighs feeling like particular sore spots. You ignored the feeling in favor of pulling a shirt off the floor to throw over your body, realizing it was your boyfriend’s when it fell all the way to your thighs. You trudged out of the room while rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You saw him standing with his back to you, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. The muscles of his bare back shifted as he moved, now clear of all the paint you two had slathered on it. Oh right, the paint.

Your eyes shifted behind him to the canvas, which Rafayel had propped up against the wall now, and was observing silently. You walked closer to admire the streaks of pink and purple on it, watching it carefully. Somehow, the choppy strokes showed your desperation, your passion, and you felt your face heat up at the thought.

“Looks pretty.” Your voice was slightly rough. Rafayel turned around at the sound and gave you a soft smile, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you from behind as you both stared. You settled into his warmth as you swayed gently back and forth.

“Why’re you thinking so hard about it?” You asked.

You turned your head to watch as he huffed and pouted a bit. He looked so cute, you bit back the urge to squish his cheeks.

“Pretty sure there’s some cum in there somewhere.”

Aaaaaand the urge was gone.

You smacked his chest hard, making him jerk back and laugh, but not releasing his hold on you.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Not more than you.”

He kissed you before you could land another smack, hand cupping your jaw to tilt your head back. You fought to keep a grin down, but failed when you felt his lips stretch with a smile of his own, erupting into giggles.

#rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfiction #lnd #rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel smut #love and deepspace smut #rafayel x y/n

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normal-internet-user · 8 months

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Friendling!!! First off, *offers bouquet* and secondly, my (redacted) was PANICKINGGGGGG but then I got a hold of myself and that's why I'm here now.

I had the Saddest Thoughts™ about the Disaster Triplets, yeah? I had the fluff/crack train going!! I promise I did but then while we were running through the meadows of peace Angst clotheslined me and choke-slammed me into the soil.

Here's what they left me with! Remember when Shelldon essentially got destroyed? Around the end of S2, I believe; noted, I haven't watched S2 but I've seen clips plus some tidbits and stuff through here and I've come to the knowledge that Shelldon did indeed get ... well, deconstructed. 😔

And this is also very much inspired by a TikTok I came across a while ago!! To cut clear, it was a comic strip/fanart video of Donnie's reaction to his brothers breaking the news to him. Of how Shelldon got caught in the crossfire and... didn't make it. :(((

Broke my heart, truly it did. But then I scrolled through the comments and one mentioned how angsty it would be if Donnie found out that Leo's the one who told Shelly to protect Karai (?? I think! Like I said, haven't watched it 😅)

And. It had me thinking.

Angst scenario. So, so angsty. Much hurt. The boys break the news to Donnie. Donnie, of course, devastated. Probably goes into denial for a bit until the evidence is presented right in front of him. But then, Donnie finds out that Leo's the one who told Shelldon to stay behind. (THIS BROKE MY HEART TOOO LIKE MY POOR BLUEBERRY HE DIDN'T KNAUR)

Can you imagine how Donnie would feel? How utterly heartbroken, nay, betrayed he'd probably feel? The heartbreak would be shattering. Then, past the shock, the anger would filter through.

Donnie and Leo are twins. In this case scenario, Donnie and Leo and you are triplets. You're the one who'd be closer to Donnie, hands up in a placating gesture despite feeling extremely delicate yourself. You were so sorry. You were so, so sorry Donnie.

It's okay. It'll all be okay. Just, just don't —

You're probably the one to separate your twins from each other. I can't figure out how Donnie would react precisely; whether he'd become violent or turn terrifyingly cold. Would Leo approach his brother, feeling a rush of emotions just as strongly upfront and reaches forward for both, repentance and reassurance? Or would he shrink back under Donnie's gaze, shoulders hunched over to protect himself from forces unseen, his own realization catching up to him. It was... his fault? Him? No.. no, no it couldn't be. Shelldon was like a son to Donnie — practically was his son. And Leo had...

I don't know how they'd completely react, but I do have an idea of how Reader would. Or rather, completely my headcanon ping-pong tournament. 🤩

I know you'd be caught in the middle. (Someone said Donnie wouldn't talk to Leo for months and it was my 13th reason, basically-) You'd feel so strung between your brothers. Caught between placating Donnie, who becomes even more withdrawn and has an edge to himself that he never did before.

Leo? Leo's... terrified. Leo's so, so sad. Leo's depressed and he doesn't know how to cope and he wishes things didn't happen the way they did but it did and he just wants his brother back. He's still the face man, and his coping skills are still crap. But he's not making as many jokes, his smile is glass, his eyebags are horrendous underneath his mask, which is streaked and stained with tears he cried in the privacy of his room. You should know. You'd walked in multiple times.

The first couple of times, you'd left at his beckoning. The next, you strode right in and pulled him into your arms. He didn't say much outside of a territorial growl and chirrup (an insult to you, really) embracing his animalistic nature for a spell and pushed at your shoulders. But then you wrenched him back and straight up snarled in his face, snout-to-snout, and he broke.

He fully expected you to storm out, maybe spit in his face (get this man some therapy pls), treat him with the hatred he believed he deserved. You called him a dumb-dumb, tone biting in the quiet of the night, and crushed him against you in a hug that washed over him entirely.

He'd begged you not to hate him too in the shelter of your neck. He clung to you, shaking, apologies spilling out from the depths of his broken heart, whimpers and chirps and words slurring together.

You were a rock. Leo's used to you being so soft and warm, and over the time he had pushed you away, you grew cold. He'd misread the situation entirely (you had never left him, you were just waiting.) You didn't hate him, he comes to realize. It's a salve to his entire being. You nuzzle his shoulder, pet down his head and shell, press small caring kisses to his temple, assuring him that the bond between you all could never be broken. The world's big. This family is bigger. The love between you all transcends dimensions. It may seem small and suffocating right now, but it will all turn out to be okay.

And you weren't going anywhere. This is another obstacle- like the skate ramps when they first started out! It seemed big and scary then, hm? But then they conquered it, and now it's his favorite thing in the world. It's one of their favorite things in the entire world.

This is just another obstacle, you murmur as you press your forehead to his. Something you always do to calm either of your siblings down. Leo clung to you as you both settled and cuddled in his bed, and you held him close. Your brother. The color purple flashed through either of you guy's minds, and while it was an obstacle to overcome, you knew you'd all conquer it.

This wasn't like skateboarding at all — but the blueprint wasn't too far off. It'd just take time. This was a very delicate situation, and that's how you would handle it.

You squeeze Leo closer, let him cry it all out until he falls asleep. You'd get through this. Through the winding obstacle of thorns, you'd all get through this. But it was okay to not be okay, and you all were not okay right now.

One thing was for damn sure, and that was that you wouldn't give up on your family.

(The happy part of this is that once all's said and done, Donnie of course rebuilds him in the future because I said so and emailed so and texted so. I'm so spoiled by the au's and fanart on here of amazing artists and such giving Shelldon and Don-Bon their happy ending!! Also. Son™.)

You have RUINED me but I have been plauged by the thoughts... the thoughts...

CONFLICT

◇~~◇~~◇~~◇~~◇

Summary: Being stuck in the middle of a conflict is never easy. Especially when it's family. Especially when it's your twins.

Warnings: Angsty angsty angsty

Requested:

GN Reader!

....................................

How had things ended up this way? Your home was destroyed, your family was in shambles, and the relationship you held so tightly between you and your brothers was crumbling too fast to fix.

"That's not funny." Donnie had deadpanned when he'd first heard the news of Shelldon, "That is not a funny joke in any capacity."

"It's not a joke, Dee." You muttered, easing your hand onto his shoulder, "Shelly's... he's gone.. He's gone."

"That's not... it can't be.."

"Donnie..."

"He was supposed to be out of the way! How is he- He was out of the way!" Donnie shouts, his entire body tenses with an emotion he doesn't know how to express in the moment.

Leo however, seems to making himself smaller and smaller with every word from his brothers mouth, and the ever observant eyes of Donatello notice.

"Leonardo, what. did. you. do?" He asks lowly, shoving you away and stomping closer to Leo, glaring daggers.

"I told him to protect Gram-Gram. I didn't think he'd.. I didn't think this would happen!" Leo defends, trying to back away from Donnie, not daring to look his brother in the eyes.

"You... Shelldon..." Donnie seemed unable to put his thoughts into words, he balled his hands into fists, and you quickly stepped forward to put yourself between them.

"Donnie..." Leo started but Donnie shoved him away, causing Leo to fall back onto the ground.

"No, shut up, Leo! You... you .. Stay away from me! Don't you dare-" Donnie snarls, and you move to stand infront of him, your heart was pumping and tears pricked at your eyes.

"Donnie... please calm down.." you begged.

"Don't." Donnie mumbles, slowly backing up, "Don't." Then he ran off to some unknown hideaway, Mikey went to charge after him, but Raph caught his arm.

"Give him a minute. He'll... he'll come around." He muttered.

God if only he'd been right.

The hours turned to days, the days to weeks, and the weeks to months.

It was tearing you apart having to play the middle man, Donnie refused to even look at Leo, and Leo was heartbroken.

He never said so. But you could tell.

It felt like a thick fog was filling your lungs ans suffocating you slowly, you missed how close the three of you were.

You were triplets, the dynamic trio, the three musketeers- now it felt more like you were strangers, and you didn't know what to do.

The guilt was eating away at Leo, and Donnie spent most of his time cooped up and refusing to speak to anyone.

You quietly entered Leo's room, and he glanced up at you, but looked away quickly. At least he didn't tell you to go away..

You sat next to him, and he leaned over so his head was resting on your shoulder. Nothing was said, but no words were needed.

He just needed someone there so he wasn't alone, but you both knew he'd never ask for help. He didn't need too. You knew.

You rested your head atop his, the two of you sitting in silent comfort with the other. Time.

Fixing this was going to take so much time. But you were willing to take the time to fix it. You needed too...

....................................

Part two...? 👀 Maybe. Most likely. Hehehehe

I literally read this at like 2am last night and passed out right after. THE THOUGHTS PLAUGED MY DREAMS.

#normie writes #normies moots #tmnt #tmnt x reader #x reader #rottmnt #donnie x reader #leonardo x reader #platonic tmnt x reader #platonic x reader #disaster triplets #angst #sibling reader

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ejunkiet · 10 months

Text

you’ve got red on you

prompt fill for the wonderful @pinksparkl about Milo’s reaction to Sweetheart having a panic attack in front of him for the first time.

(special bonus points to anyone who recognises the title >:3)

redacted audio: milo/sweetheart, rated teen. cw: panic attacks

Milo comforts his mate after a panic attack. - “I’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re okay. Just- breathe.”

READ ON AO3

you’ve got red on you

All it takes is a moment of distraction while he’s prepping dinner for his grip on the kitchen knife to slip, the sharp edge slicing across his palm and sending the half-chopped vegetables scattering. “Shit!”

“Milo?”

“S’all good, sweetheart. Just, fucked up with the knife.” It’s an understatement, considering the state of the counters, the blood welling from the cut in his palm spilling over onto the hardwood. Goddamnit. He knew better than to get distracted while using the good knife. Christ, the shit his mother would give him over this-

He wraps his hand in a dishcloth before he stumbles over to the sink, a litany of curses falling from his tongue as he fumbles the taps to turn on the water.

He glances up to find the shape of his mate in the doorway, their features shadowed by the busted light in the hall he’d been meaning to fix before they came over. “What happened?”

“Nothing, just me being a fuckin’ idiot.”

They take a step further into the room, their eyes focused on the bloody dishcloth, and they’re not saying anything, although they look - strange. Off. As if they’re feeling sick.

He sees it when their hands start to shake, their breaths coming fast and shallow, as if they can’t get enough air. The way their eyes lose focus, pupils dilating, even as their aura flickers, their silhouette going hazy around the edges.

“Sweetheart?” They’re still not saying anything, and unease stirs in his gut, prickling at his skin. It’s not like them to lose their words like that - they always had plenty to say. “Hey, you okay?”

“I-” And just like that they vanish, flickering out of existence as if they had never been there in the first place.

Fuck.

He can’t see them. Can’t feel them, the warmth of their presence, their scent. But he can still sense them in the room with him - feel the quiet flicker of their aura, subtle in the air but distinctive, if you know what you’re looking for.

And he’s familiar with that aura now, familiar with finding it in a way that’s becoming second nature to him, and he steps away from the sink, crossing over to where they had been standing, where he thinks he can feel them now.

If he concentrates hard enough, he can see the faint shimmer of their magic vibrating in the air, like heat from sun-baked tarmac. He pauses, squinting. “Sweetheart?”

Every instinct in him is screaming at him to do something, to fix this. But he’s not even sure what this is. He’s got an idea - his pop used to get like this after a bad night, frantic and non-verbal, disappearing into his office for hours until his ma could finally coax him out.

She was good at stuff like that. He - he wasn’t. He didn’t have her soft touch, her endless patience. Shit, he’d probably make things worse if he tried.

Panic squeezes at his throat like a vice, even as he tries to swallow it down. “Sweetheart, can ya - can ya talk to me?”

A flash, and their hand appears, reaching out to grasp his wrist, gripping tight. A rush of heat floods his hand, followed by a sharp pinch that makes him curse, before the ache in his palm recedes, the wound closing.

He flexes his fingers as they flicker back into view, their mouth pinched into a tight line, eyes still too big but focused as they stare down at his hand.

It’s still bloody, the skin of his palm freshly pink, but he can feel the way their fingers tremble around his wrist, and fuck, it must be the blood. Christ, Milo. You’re a fucking idiot.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he focuses on his core, weaving the pattern of a simple cleaning spell, his breath leaving him as the magic runs through his system. He flexes his fingers once it’s done, checking over the clean skin. “Shit. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

They still won’t speak, won’t look at him. Their hold on him is tight enough that he can feel their pulse through their fingertips, still too fast, and carefully, telegraphing his movements, he reaches out, guiding their face up to meet his. “Hey. You still with me?”

They take a breath, deep and gasping. “I-I’m sorry.”

“None of that. You’ve got nothing to apologise for.”

They finally look at him, their bright eyes wide, slightly dazed but calmer now, a little more like themself. It settles something in him, although it's not enough - he needs more, needs to know that they’re okay, feel them against him.

“Can I hold you?”

They melt into his arms, soft and warm and perfect, like they were made to fit against him like this, and fuck. He runs his fingers through their hair, pressing his face against their throat until he can breathe them in, deep.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re okay. Just- breathe.”

–

“So, it’s the blood?”

They release a low hum, sinking further into him where they’ve settled on the couch, his arms around them, their legs across his lap and their body tucked against his chest.

“Yeah. I saw you standing there, and I couldn’t-” Their voice cuts out as they swallow, taking a moment to catch their breath. He holds them through it. “It just hit me, all at once.”

This was new, then. They hadn’t reacted like this to the shade - or at least, he hadn’t seen it at the time. There was that period after the fight, when they’d met with the department, but considering they were at his place immediately after that, he didn’t think it did.

And they’d been working, then. If he can remember well enough the stuff that had happened with his pop, then things like this tended to happen in the aftermath of an event - hours, maybe even days, later.

The fucking department. His grip around them tightens as he grits his teeth, tamping down on the urge to growl. “You’ll tell me, if this happens again? If there’s anything I can do-”

“There isn’t.” They wince, as if their words came out sharper than they intended, and they shift in his arms to look up at him. “But I’ll tell you, if it happens again.”

They lay their head back down against his chest, right over his heart, their fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. He can feel the rhythm of their breath match up to his, easy and quiet, and he loves them. He loves them so fucking much in this moment, it makes his heart ache.

He’ll ask his ma about this, and maybe… maybe get in contact with his pop. They’re long overdue for a conversation, anyway.

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #ej writes redacted #redacted milo #milo/sh #look i love them #sh 🤝 me with panic attacks apparently #luckily they're still rare #but did not expect blood to be the trigger #writing

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rallamajoop · 8 months

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Eveline, the Connections, and the buried D-series lore

A surprising number of unused text files can be found by datamining the RE7 game file (I found next to nothing in RE8, for comparison). Many look to come from an earlier version of Mia's sequence on the tanker, which I may get to posting about those later ‒ but by far the most fascinating are a series of three files about the the E-series project, adding names and a whole tragic backstory to a couple of humble key items that are still in the game: the D-series arm and head.

These three documents were presumably earlier drafts of those you can still find in the final lab, though they contain a number of details missing from the final game. I'll share all three below, but we'll start with the second, because it's by far the most interesting.

Biological Weapons Development 2 We've decided that the biological weapon should look like a young girl. That way it will be easy to slip it into groups of, for example, refugees. In early ■■■■, 1999, Dr. Olivia ■■■'s team infected a human embryo with ■■ from ■■■■, creating four prototypes. These were named, Dana, Dahlia, Darlene, and Dorothy. The D-Series was able to control the thoughts of others by making them ingest a mold-like secretion. The initial symptoms caused by this secretion are visual and auditory hallucinations, and ■■■■. The secretion also erodes the target's cerebral ■■■. As the infection progresses, the target develops strong feelings of friendship towards the girls, and actively seeks to serve them. It is also possible for the secretion to fuse with the target's somatic cells, causing mutations in the body's physical structure. D-001 Dana Deceased (■■■■) D-002 Dahlia Deceased (Decrepit at 319 days) D-003 Darlene Deceased (Infection) D-004 Dorothy Disposed of due to poor performance D-005 Dolores Suicide D-006 Diana Killed by D-005 D-007 Daniella Killed by D-005 D-008 Doris Deceased (■■■■■■) E-001 Eveline Stable [Progress under observation]

(Excuse the slightly-wonky table at the bottom ‒ it's the best I could easily do for tumblr.)

There's a real SCP vibe to all those clinical details and tantalising redactions ‒ far more is redacted in these early versions than in any file that made it into the game. What really killed Dana and Doris? We don't know, but the idea of causes worse than what's reported for other subjects is nasty stuff.

The most striking implication in this list is the story of poor Dolores, who killed two of her sisters (Dolores and Diana, D-006 and 7) before killing herself. We don't know why or how it happened, but Dolores was D-005, which is a number you might have seen before:

Well, shit. That poor damn thing.

The D-series arm belonged D-002 ‒ Dahlia, who was apparently 'decrepit after 319 days', so very likely affected by the same rapid aging as Eveline.

You find the arm attached to a horrifying corpse-doll-thing, the arm itself allegedly gifted to Marguerite by Eveline soon after her arrival. And speaking of this particular asset, the fact this arm seems to have tried to grow a whole new head even after being severed is a wonderfully creepy bit of detail.

I didn't find it strange that both components would have been on the ship with Eveline ‒ they're required components for making anti-infection serum, which might well be needed in transit or at their destination, and perhaps those components have a longer shelf-life than the serum itself. But the third document in the series tells us there was rather more to the fact that Eveline herself had that arm in her possession.

Biological Weapons Development 3 Eveline (E-001) has displayed remarkable results in performance tests against mice, ■■■■, monkeys, and humans. Finally, we have a biological weapon we can use. Unfortunately, her metabolic functions are lacking, meaning she still requires doses of ■■■■■. If ■■■■■ is not administered, the somatic cells age rapidly, and in a worst-case scenario ■■■■ may also occur. An attendant will be required to administer regular doses of ■■■■■ to Eveline. Having observed Eveline (E-001), we have noticed several interesting points: ・ Eveline has a tendency to regard the targets she gains control of as "family." It seems that gaining control of humans has a special meaning for her. ・ She treats part of ■■■■■■'s (D-0■■) corpse as a treasured possession. Perhaps she regards it as a memento mori from one of her sisters? ・ ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■. Perhaps ■■■■■■■■■■. Those infected with D-Series secretions can be treated with a special serum. The serum can be synthesized by ■■■■■■■■ing D-Series somatic cell tissue. In case of accidental infection, administer the serum as quickly as possible. Be aware, however, that the serum is only effective against mild infections. Administering the serum to those with severe infections can result in the infected cells coagulating and ■■■■, and may even result in death. Be sure to administer the serum at the appropriate time.

So apparently Eveline was in the habit of carting poor Dahlia's severed arm around with her, as some kind of twisted memento. Dahlia most likely died long before Eveline's creation, which does not make that detail less creepy.

Though it's much less interesting than the latter two, here's the first file in the series too:

Biological Weapons Development 1 This program started in 1997 with financial backing from ■ ■ ■ ■. The aim was to create a biological weapon that could take control of enemy groups without having to engage them in combat. This gives the program an advantage that differentiates it from previous biological weapon developments: it lets us turn our enemies into allies. Soon, those who once opposed us will voluntarily become our friends, serving us as required. With this program we can increase our allies while avoiding the costs associated with military engagements and having to deal with prisoners of war… The governments of ■ ■ ■ ■ and ■ ■ ■ may also be interested in this new program too.

Still no detail in any of these to explain why the two arms so very clearly attached to the D-series ""head"" were apparently not fit for purpose, but eventually you've got to just shrug and go with this stuff.

All these files are not so much "cut" content as older drafts that were accidentally left in the game, and they contradict the versions that did make it in in a few places ‒ for example, the draft version puts the project's beginnings in 1997, whereas the final version moves that date forward to 2000. But it's a real shame all that detail on the D-series was cut, because it adds so much context to elements that did make it into the finished game. The game still works without them, but I'd venture the whole picture is that little bit richer for knowing about them.

#Resident Evil 7 #Eveline #The Connections #Resident Evil #RE lore #meta #RE assets #unused assets #cut content

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frecklystars · 4 months

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Also tysm to the people who sent nice messages regarding my new F/O I haven’t named yet (I’m just worried about jinxing my ship with him since he’s very very different from the other characters I normally ship with, and idk if I want to keep him on the F/O list or if I need him to be some completely separate category). at some point I might post self ship art if my feelings remain steady hehe. just silly stuff. I like making him uncharacteristically flustered and nervous…

I think it’s funny some of you are trying to guess who it is, nobody has guessed correctly yet but you’re giving me ideas. hi camp counselor Jason I’m looking directly at you. Too bad I can’t handle horror movies at all 😂

Anyway. The deleted scene I vented about yesterday. I feel a lot calmer today; that scene canonically didn’t happen, since it was deleted, and even the director said “yeah, this scene was too cruel even for him, so we cut it”. Seeing it shook me up very badly, but I know My Version of [redacted] would never do such things anyways. I rewatched the ending scenes for his source material, I watched funny videos/memes about him, his canon stuff is absolutely nothing like the deleted scenes and I feel better knowing that.

And I suppose when I self ship with him, he’s very different anyways, regardless of what is on screen. He falls in love with me before he can commit half of his crimes. I can be the first meaningful human connection he ever has. I can save him from his own stupidity. I have never genuinely had the “I can fix him” mentality about any villain F/O until I started shipping with this guy. Rolling up my sleeves. I can fix him. I AM fixing him.

And in turn he’s helping me feel a little bit better about practicing self love without conditions: if I can genuinely believe someone as scary as this dude would love me unconditionally, then maybe one day I can ship with TF characters again ;w;

#if I didn’t have trauma I wouldn’t be shipping with him at all #but it’s helping. the other day it helped a LOT I was genuinely weeping with relief when I realized #I’m giving him a hug. baby doll we are erasing 90% of your murders. isn’t that nice!#we are taking the basic DNA of this character and rewriting it

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cashandprizes · 7 months

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Redacted-Tober Day 14: Milo and "Night"

Hello. It's me. I wanted to have more written for this but actually everything is crazy right now. Anyway it's Milo day and my birthday so let's get into this little... script-ish idk what this is.

So... I was thinking what if Milo had a date not long after starting to date Sweetheart and was like "shit. How do I talk about the mates thing? How do you tell someone you want to be serious?" and I had the genius thought of him calling his mom (aka @frenchiefitzhere The Real Marie Greer, will The Real Marie Greer please stand up) and generally just asking how she knew about Colm.

And then FRENCHIE BASICALLY SPOKE IT FOR ME???

SO ACTUALLY ALL CREDIT TO FRENCHIE

[Milo looking at his phone, his reflection in the mirror, and back at his phone as if tortured]

“Ugh. Yeah, time to phone a friend.”

Marie: hello?

Milo: hey ma, you got a minute

Marie: yeah I just - what are you doing calling me this late-

Milo: ma, I’m on a time crunch, I just need-

Marie: alright, alright, gimme [yawn] one second

[impatient Milo noises]

Marie: y’know kid they just don’t make bodies like they used to

Milo: ma-

Marie: I gotta stretch first

Milo: Ma, it’s just a phone call you don’t need to -

Marie: yeah I know it’s just a phone call and I gotta stretch

Milo: ugh.

Marie: ok, ok, what’s going on that you needed to call me this late?

Milo: ma it’s 9pm - whatever, look I just think tonight I’m gonna tell them about you know, mates and that and like they already probably have some idea - I mean cmon they’re empowered they have to know some stuff and so they probably know but like I want to talk to them about you know what that means and-

Marie: Milo - Milo slow down, slow

Milo: I just I don’t know how to bring it up

Marie: So this one’s special huh?

Milo: Ma, focus

Marie: None of my business, ok, alright. So you’ve been on dates before, what’re you calling for?

Milo: I guess… you know, what did… How did you know… with dad.

Marie: your father, well you know how we met, you’ve heard it a million times. I mean it’s nothing to write home about, it wasn’t that impressive. But you know what stood out is that he stood up for me. Lots of times.

Milo: He stood up for you?

Marie: I know I don’t need anyone to stand up for me - that’s kinda the point, you know, that he did it anyway. I don’t know if you know this about me, but your ma’s kind of a tough broad. But sometimes when you’re tough people forget you got a softer side and you could use caring for to - but not your father. From that first day we started going out you know - he knew I could handle myself and got between me and some idiot and almost got beat up for it anyway. And - how did you meet this person, huh?

Milo: Ma, that’s not what I’m here to talk about

Marie: You’re not gonna tell me? How long do you think that’s gonna last? Enjoy your little secret while you can, cause I’m gonna figure you out. You know I’ve sniffed out every little secret of yours since you could talk.

Milo: Ma, can you please focus.

Marie: Yeah, yeah, I’m gonna figure you out. I got your number Milo Greer. Anyway, after that… Well I can’t tell you everything that happened or else you’re gonna lose your lunch-

Milo: oh my god, gross, GROSS

Marie: Oh grow up Milo, you asked. Anyway, your father had the classic moves, you know, took me to dinner, a walk in the park. Nothing fancy but it was classic - and that’s what you’re gonna do. You got this Milo, you don’t gotta worry about all this. I mean, you like this person right?

Milo: Yeah… yeah I do.

Marie: So you’ll be fine, you’ll be a little nervous and a little off your game but you’ll land on your feet. You can’t do everything perfect, you gotta let it happen. And if they like you, they’ll like that it’s imperfect.

Milo: Are you sure?

Marie: Oh Milo, did I pop your bubble? Did you think you were perfect?

Milo: Ma-

Marie: I mean I think you’re perfect but that’s because I’m your mother-

Milo: Ma-

Marie: I don’t think everybody else is gonna think that-

Milo: Shoot, ma I think I gotta go. Sorry to cut you off

Marie: it’s alright - look, call me if you’re getting yourself up in your head again but you got this. You’ve done this a million times, but maybe this one’s a little bit different. This might go somewhere, huh?

Milo: Oh my god, bye Ma

Marie: What? Okay, alright-

Milo: love you Ma

Marie: love you too, be safe, bye

#speed run #redacted audio #redactedasmr #redacted asmr #redacted #redactedverse #redacted-tober 2023 #hey lexi. did i tag this right? plz confirm #EVERYONE GIVE IT UP FOR FRENCHIE PLEASE ONE OF MY PARTNERS IN GATING BALDURS #writing tag

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esther-dot · 7 months

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GRRM Interview from 2011

I: Well, one thing that always came up with Lost was this idea of, they better have the ending figured out. I want them to know right from the beginning what the plan is. As a storyteller, do you believe that that is what you should be doing? Is it even possible?

GRRM: I think it’s possible to an extent. Well first of all, there are different kinds of writers. I’ve given this lecture in many of my talks. I like to say that there are two kinds of writers, there are the architects and the gardeners. And the architects plan everything ahead of time before they write the first word of a novel. They do all the world building, they know how many rooms the house is going to have and they know how they will flow to each other and how high each floor is going to be and where the electricity and the plumbing is going to go and everything. Before they even nail up the first board.

And then there are the gardeners who just sort of dig a hole and they put a seed in it and they water it with their blood and then something starts to grow. Now, they usually know that they plant a peach tree or did they plant a cactus. But the precise shape its going to take they don’t know. I think all most writers are somewhere in the middle, you know. I’m much more of a gardener than an architect and so was Tolkien .

But I like to compare my books to a journey. Like that map there [gestures to a U.S. map on the wall]. If you were going from Los Angeles to New York, you would look at a map like that and you would say, well, okay, I’m going to leave and I’m going to follow the route through Albuquerque and I’m gonna go north to Denver… So you know your eventual destination and the main roads and some of the big landmarks you’re going to go through, but you don’t know where you’re gonna stop for dinner the first night, or where there’s gonna be road construction that will force you to take a detour, where a hitchhiker is going to show up on the side of the road and tell you a fascinating story. These are the things you discover during the journey.

I know the ultimate destination, I know the principal landmarks and things that happen along the way, like [big event redacted] which had been planned from the beginning and all of that. But some of them I discover in the writing. Essentially I know the big stuff, but a lot of little stuff occurs in the course of the writing. And of course some of the little stuff is very, very important. The devil is in the details. The devil is what makes the journey more than just an outline or a Cliff’s Notes kind of experience. So I may know the ultimate fates of Jon Snow and Daenerys and Arya and some of the other principal characters. But I don’t necessarily know the ultimate fates of Dolorous Edd or Hot Pie, you know. Well, I have a few ideas about those, but still. (link)

#grrm

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bratty-telepath · 1 year

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It has come to my attention that people often don't consider I'm poly and I am a multi-shipper meaning that if I see a range of characters, I will devise a way for them all to be happy together in some way, shape or form, with each other, this includes redacted so…

Bratty Telepath's Poly Redacted Stuff/Multi-shipping shit

(I am a disgrace for not coming up w a better title)*

In this, I will be giving you, dear reader, my poly headcanons and thoughts regarding the redacted universe (this will probably come up again as time goes on). If that's not your cuppa and you prefer monogamous content then that's great! I'll just be over here making people have feelings for each other to make myself happy and you can be over there! Also none of this is organized. It's me rambling off about the things that invade my brain

David /Angel/Asher - happens after David meets and dates Angel and he's able to actually loosen up enough to see that Ash has always cared for him before he starts realizing "oh shit, I'm in love with my best friend" before they go on a bout of him avoiding Asher to avoid his feelings as Asher think David's drifting away again. Angel is who pulls these idiots back together and is like "fix yo shit".

Darlin/Sweetheart/Sam - is long running and went on for a while before Darlin left Dahlia. They were highschool sweethearts who were still dating while SH was at DAMN. At the same time, SH was also seeing Sam unofficially before he got turned and dropped out. Both these bitches really ran and SH was like "I am never letting you shits go" when they met again. SH/Darlin is very much a danger duo situation while SH/Sam is a flirty old roommates situation.

The DAMN polycule - them bitches hanging out and FL was like "what if we dated each other" cuz like they were all not actually seeing anyone they figured "eh, we can try", it started out as a joke...but then they caught feelings and now they're all dating :3

Aaron/Bäbe(aka Smartass)/Asher - Bäbe's old job was with Aaron where they met Asher and when they got a new job, they started dating Aaron. Asher and Aaron know about each other and hang but they're not dating

DAMN polycule/Lovely/Vincent - I think Lovely should know more people and more people should know Lovely. I also think Vincent and Gavin have fucked and they both push Damien's buttons and Huxley has them both on a leash. They'd all be cute together, I know it.

Milo/Lasko/SH - All of my loves, in one ship? Absolutely. After inversion, Lasko started talking to Milo when he was isolating from the group because Milo made him feel bigger than he ever felt when they met and not long afterwards, Lasko ended getting pursued by Milo and SH. It's a very fun relationship.

Sam/FL/Darlin - *Ahem* FL finds Sam w Lovely's help and they ask him to teach them about healing magic. He takes them on as their tutor because he recognizes the same spark he had in them and they both start falling for each other. Darlin is chill w it and doesn't join in the relationship until they get to know FL better and are like "you are amazing and I am going to keep you close forever now".

Milo/Darlin/David/Asher - THEY ALL USED TO BE BEST FRIENDS GROWING UP AND NOW THEY'RE IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER AS ADULTS. That's it. That's the plot. That's the idea.

David/SH/Milo - Milo realizes he likes David when he talks to SH about him and SH's like "you should tell him then" but Milo's hesitant because they're not as close as they used to be. David however does like Milo but he also likes SH because of their small back and forths with each other and how much he respects their dedication so SH who's noticing all of this is like "He likes you, and he likes you. I think both of you are idiots but you're hot and have a good personality sooo let's all date".

Asher/FL - They're so good together, I promise. Asher and FL bounce energy between one another like a particle accelerator of sorts so they multiply each other's vibes but they both know how recognize and help each other through their shit.

Guy/Seer(Honey)/Morgan - Honey has been a seer obscura all along and was fine dating Guy cuz he was unempowered and they never needed to worry about him finding out about seers but when they have the inversion vision, they meet Morgan who's like "I can help". Morgan requires stress relief which Guy is great at, and Guy+Morgan are also amazing at helping slow down Honey.

SH/Vince/Lovely - These three have a dyanmic where Vince used to get in trouble with the department and used to flirt w SH a lot but SH always kept him ar a distance cuz he didn't have any damn sense. Then SH started liking the person Vince was when he was actually with Lovely. Vince has always liked SH but they just never visibly returned his feelings so he thought they weren't interested but Lovely was like "maybe, talk and like figure that shit out so my boyfriend can stop acting like a fuckin' loser". Vince's dyanmic w SH is absolutely flirty back and forths in contrast to complete adoration of Lovely.

That's all for now, I'm tired of writing but if you're curious about my thoughts on a ship, shoot it my way in a ask🤷🏾‍♂️

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dominimoonbeam · 4 months

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The Fanfic Writer Questionnaire!

I was tagged by @ejunkiet to do this Fanfic Writer Questionnaire and now that I'm FINALLY getting back to my "normal" life and writing and talking to people again after the move, this seemed like a really fun way to start! I think I got waaaaaaaaaay to in-depth and confessional.

Tagging some people who I'd love to see play but also just anyone feeling like it! @glassbearclock @taelonsamada @romirola @zozo-01 @colloquialcolival

1 - How many works do you have on AO3?

130. I had to look up my stats and I had no idea! 92 of those are Redacted…

2 - What's your total AO3 word count?

Holy shit… 907,249

3 - What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Redacted, TOG, and 19 Days but I’ve dabbled in a handful of others over the years.

4 - What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Finally Alive (TOG), Waiting (TOG), Pieces of the Moon (TOG), Open (19 Days), and Kicking and Screaming (TOG). Look at The Old Guard dominating that particular stat!

5 - Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! There have been times where I miss one or too much time has gone, but otherwise yes. I love comments. For a long time I got in my own head about comments or even liking things because I thought I was bothering people, and that sometimes carries over to replying to comments when I’ve been busy and a week or two has passed, but then I just do it because nice things are always okay to toss out into the world!

6 - What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don’t think I do ansty endings… I do a shit ton of trauma and hurt, but there’s always comfort payoff. Lemme see… OH! Oh fuck, it’s Stop it. I love that tiny ficlet. Warden blows themself up to take Vega with them out of Elegy.

7 -What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Almost all of my fics have a happy ending… or at least the promise of happiness to come. I need a happy ending. I absolutely run from anything (fics, books, movies, shows) if I see any hint that they’re aiming to hurt/no comfort me.

Lemme see… who had the happiest ending… I’m going to say Come Home. It’s a Nightwing/Cassandra Cain fic I did ages back and something about that ending and them is just particularly satisfying to me. And Scars That Remind. I think the hard road and possibility of not getting that happy ending makes it happier... if that makes sense to anyone else?

8 - Do you get hate on fics?

Not usually but it has happened. Both the stuff that’s just someone taking a topic or character personally, or trying to make a statement, and actual vomit emojis.... hehe it was a particularly lewd fic and I think they were inspired to hate because I actually said I was proud of the work and I don't usually share those feelings/thoughts.

9 - Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh my, yes. Where's the stat for that? I'm a sucker for deep emotional connections and trust. Even when I set out to write porn, it ends up being emotional.

10 - Do you write crossovers?

Nope.

11 - Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12 - Have you ever had a fic translated?

Maybe? I had someone ask if they could translate one of my 19 Days fics for another site and I said they could as long as they weren't pretending they wrote it.

13 - Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. I'm not really comfortable co-writing like that. But I used to write on rp sites long ago (it's where I met my person) and even before that I used to write stories with a friend. We would actually trade notebooks back and forth between classes to read what the other had done and add to it.

14 - What's your all time favorite ship?

Oh shit... It's been a lot of ships.

15 - What's a WIP that you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I really hate the pressure to finish long fics. I used to only do long fics because I want to keep the world and keep adding but then there's the pressure where people ask if you've abandoned it. And I always feel like "no? it's not a couch I left by the street. it's a fic. i wrote it. it's mine even if it's unended forever." And I just really want the option to go back into that world and keep going even if it's years later (which I have definitely done). ...This is absolutely my way of not answering this question.

16 - What are your writing strengths?

I'm usually pretty fast when I'm in it? And dialogue? I think I'm okay at dialogue

17 - What are your writing weaknesses?

Remembering my own descriptive choices? Weather, dates, settings, side-character names... Fluff. I'm not good at writing wholesome everyday things. Some people are so incredible at that and I'm just not. I just straight to the meat of everything every time. I worry it harms the flow and build of a lot of things.

18 - Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I will usually dance around it if it's not a language I know, like just saying in narrative that the character said it in another language, assuming both parties understand or making a point of them not. I looooved this with Nicky and Joe in TOG and the idea of them using each others languages in the early decades to try to communicate better when what they were saying became important OR going back to their own when they're too upset to use a second language.

19 - First fandom you wrote for?

Technically... The Black Jewels Trilogy when I was a baby. Like I said, I was so shy and just, afraid of being in the way in the world. I had been reading fics for years but didn't even have an account. I start writing some for Black Jewels and made and account and posted... Someone rolled into the comments and picked it apart. I'm sure it wasn't as bad as I remember. I guess I'd used a lot of the terms in the books wrong? I was so horrified I deleted the fic and the account and didn't fic for a few more years. I even deleted the fic from my computer. I've dug around looking for it again since but it's absolutely gone. SO, the actual answer, is The Covenant over on ffnet. I couldn't find much of what I wanted so I started writing it.

20 - Favorite fic you've written?

Favorite of my own!!? I am surprised how uncomfortable I am answering that... Okay, the thing is, I love my fics. I am so scared to admit that because it feels conceded as fuck but I honestly write what I want to read for the most part. I do go back and reread my own shit. Soooo I'm going to say Pieces of the Moon. It short and sweet and feels like a fairy tale. But the answer would change week to week.

#fanfic writer questionnaire #i'm starting to see how i got to 900k i'm wordy as hell #<3 #dominimoonbeam #wallflower trying to do people things #fanfic

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jessequinones · 8 months

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Be kind to young writers

When I was young, I started my writing career through fan fiction and it was brutal. I didn't just get hate, my stories was put on a forum called the "The Literate Union". It was a group of gatekeepers who tried to keep Fanfiction.Net a "pure" website, or whatever. To make sure everyone followed the guidelines and my stuff was reported on mass.

Un announced to them, FanFiction.Net doesn't actually do anything when you report stories so nothing happened but some of the reviews were so nasty, I legit cried. I'm actually surprised I'm still a writer. This was one of the reviews I received and keep in mind, I had to censor most of these words because this "review" would violate every possible harassment guideline on any social media website.

I'm only sharing this as a reminder, I was a child who had no idea what I was doing. Be kind to young writers, they need support not harassment. Oh, and if you want to know what fandom I was in to received this level of hate? it was the Warriors Cats fandom.

"I'm not going to sugar coat this; your 'story' is so very, very bad that I would prefer being force fed a glass full of [redacted] that has been thrown in a blender with coffee creamer and toenail clippings and made to look like a smoothie before being heavily diluted by [redacted] and [redacted] and covered in [redacted]. It is reminiscent of a kindergartner's first attempt at a story, minus the endearing spelling errors and five-year-old innocence. In fact, a [redacted] from the [redacted] could have done a better job of this.

Now that I've given you fair warning, you are free to stop reading at any time, as I'm sure your tiny little brain may have trouble understanding some of it.

This 'story' is a perfect example of how a twelve year old with a keyboard and half a brain cell can thoroughly [redacted] the English language, then laugh as it lays sobbing in its own [redacted] and [redacted]. I was fighting tears and vomit with every line, because quite frankly, this is the worst horror you could ever inflict on a person. A respectable author would have first written everything out, proofread it, realized it was shit, deleted it, tried again, and then sent it off to a Beta who would then tell the writer that it was shit, and repeat these steps until you have a story that is both readable and good. At one point I actually pulled out a screwdriver and began to take apart my computer in an attempt to destroy this plague against all works of fiction, when I realized that destroying my computer would not handle the problem efficiently. My cat's [redacted] has more creativity and format than this 'story' does, and it saddens me that no one has informed you of how extraordinarily awful this abomination is. I do hope that you'll find yourself a respectable Beta and some self-respect before you continue to ruin the eyes of whatever unfortunate soul happens upon this 'story' next.

Hugs and Kisses,

Ker0s3ne K1d"

#writing #writeblr #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction net #writing community #warrior cats #be kind

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darklight-owl · 4 months

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Owl Reviews Stuff She Just Finished: Ghost Trick

I cannot BELIEVE i hadn't heard of this game before the remake got announced. But at the same time I'm kinda grateful for that, because that meant that I got to play the game (nearly) blind!

But I disgress, man. What a good game. It's something that starts off as pretty small and charming but later when the story progresses it unravels into something way more ambitious and dramatic.

Speaking of first impressions, the gameplay mechanics immediately caught my eye. Preventing deaths by moving around objects and butterfly-effecting the world around you is such a fun idea and executed really well. It made something as simple as moving from point a to point b a mini puzzle and each area was unique enough that it never got old.

But let's be real no one plays Ghost Trick for the gameplay we're all here for the PLOT. Being a pretty big Ace Attorney fan I was very interested in seeing what Shu Takumi had in store for this and it did NOT dissappoint. But while AA's focus is on the characters rather than the story, Ghost Trick's focus is on the story rather than the characters.

This isn't a bad thing, after all the story is extremely compelling, but it explains why it took me a longer time to warm up to the cast than in some other games I've played. They're all pretty compelling and memorable with their own distinct personalities, but a lot of the time their development took a back seat to leave room for the larger mystery (the two exceptions being [NAME REDACTED] and Sissel), with the majority of the cast remaining static throughout the game. But for a story as full of intrigue as this it worked fairly well, and each of them had something that made them stand out which made their interactions really fun.

As mentioned before the story's pacing and buildup is immaculate. Being a mystery game it relies heavily on plot twists and its way of dangling the answers right in front of your nose and revealing them at just the right moment makes everything that much more exciting. The best mystery stories are not just ones that can surprise you but can make you feel like you should have seen that coming, and Ghost Trick definitely falls into that category. All of the signs were right there, but the game used the information that the audience took for granted to make the most jaw-dropping twists you'll ever see. New information can make your idea of what happened change at the drop of a hat which I thought was a great way to keep the player engaged and determined to find out what really happened.

But that's enough of me rambling. Buy Ghost Trick. It's on Steam. I give it 9 Ghosts out of 10 Tricks 🥳

Anyway if y'all excuse me I need to go pick up my diploma:

#the review is spoiler free btw #i prefer writing these immediately after finishing the thing but i had to Do Stuff(tm)#anyway hope you guys enjoy my review of Ghos Tric Phanto Detectiv #i stole the diploma off Canva so if you want me to put your name on it lmk #you don't need to play DD or SoJ to graduate Professor Ghost Attorney college because i say so 🤭#ghost trick #owl reviews stuff she just finished

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spaced0lphin · 1 year

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My Fanfiction Crimes: WayfaringJedi

I run a SW focused sideblog, called wayfaringjedi, where I post art and fics and stuff.

Earlier this month, I found a list of “headcanons” about a Star Wars character, posted publicly, here on Tumblr. Looking to blow off some steam, I wrote a six thousand word narrative incorporating some of them. I credited/tagged the person who posted the list in the first place – I was hoping to make a fandom friend, and start a conversation. In my experience, that tends to be what happens when two enthusiastic creatives interact after one inspires the other.

For the past eight days, I have stayed silent as the grave on this issue, as one is supposed to when someone on the Internet decides to engage in behaviour like what this author has done.

I have been accused of plagiarism, ablism, and abuse. This author has publicly and on numerous occasions solicited their followers to bother me and attempt to disrupt my work. They are now engaging in malicious reporting, attempting to get my blogs flagged as Spam, and my accounts shadowbanned, or worse.

So, I am writing this. I find addressing all of this publicly to be an exercise in disappointment and exasperation; I had hoped for this incident to blow over and be nothing more than an embarrassing footnote in an otherwise enjoyable fandom experience. Yet, here I am, reduced to talking about this as if the complaints had any merit. However, at this juncture, I don’t want their voice as the only one dictating the narrative.

It all started when the author reblogged my original post sharing my work with them, essentially stating they felt I’d stolen from them. They explained they didn’t want to write in their story anymore, and threatened to stop writing in general, because of me. (I’m paraphrasing, the post was deleted.) My initial response was shock and dismay – no one had ever reacted in this way to me before, and the last thing I want to do is hurt anybody. As I’m quite a shy person and often seek to minimise myself, I apologised and deleted the work from Tumblr. The author blocked me without further comment.

I wasn’t able to get on Ao3, as I was out at the time, and busy. When I sat down at the computer several hours later, this author and their followers had run rampant with comments all over my work. Accusing me of being disingenuous, an “idea thief,” a plagiarist, and of being deliberately malicious and insulting by daring to have my work up.

My one and only statement was this thorough comment I left on my own work. (This version of my comment has the author’s username redacted, to protect them from any abuse.)

I enabled comment moderation to stop the arguments. I deleted most of the comments, particularly more inflammatory ones, and ones including mention of the author’s first name. I have acted to protect this person and I will continue to; their username will not be mentioned here, and all trace of them has been removed from my work as it remains on Ao3. It will certainly be possible to find out who this person is, but I will not assist in this, and ask that nobody name them, either.

Shortly after posting this comment, the author unblocked me on Tumblr and we had a brief, unproductive discussion. In it, I restated my points and confirmed that I would not be removing my work. The author expressed to me what I felt were unreasonable demands (to remove, or significantly alter the work by removing entire themes, etc) and whilst for the most part civil, their comments towards me descended into ad hominem (‘You’re not a nice person,’ etc.) once it became clear that I would not obey. Much noise was made about being neurodivergent – I am too, it’s a non-starter with me.

I explained in these messages that neither of us own the fictional character in question, nor do we own certain general themes and/or ideas, to which the author responded by calling me ‘cruel.’

They insisted I take personal responsibility and account for some 27 anonymous hate messages they claimed to have received. I asked for proof of them.

Initially, the author refused to provide me with any, on account of my own refusal to delete my work for them first – a line of reasoning I couldn’t understand, personally, but I’ll get to that in a moment.

They then disappeared for about an hour or so, and came back with screenshots of some anonymous messages.

Firstly, no one should be bombarded with messages like that, and given that I only had 10 followers at the time of this incident, their existence is shocking to the point of inspiring awe.

For several reasons, mainly contextually based – I believe this author wrote and sent these anonymous messages to themself, to screenshot and use as “evidence” against me.

I certainly did not send them, and I’m sure if Tumblr’s admin side looks into the IP addresses these anonymous messages originate from, they will be the same as the author’s. I would, at this point, be willing to bet money on it.

I received some messages as well, and in response, I turned off anonymous messaging. Then, I received messages from what I believe is one of the author’s sockpuppets, complaining that I had turned off anonymous messages. I received multiple messages per day. Initially, I didn’t block this account – I was intent on giving this person no satisfaction whatsoever, not even a block.

These messages run the gamut from goofy Internet rage, to vaguely threatening:

I find it extremely difficult to believe that a random friend of this author would continue to be angry enough about this to message me multiple times a day for an entire week – I think it’s much more likely that this is the author themself. Given this, there are certain unusual turns of phrase that this account and at least one other uses in common. “Have the day you deserve.” That’s all over the place in the initial Ao3 bombardment. (I'm unconcerned with censoring the username for the following two comments as they belong to a sock.)

The saddest thing I have found about this entire debacle is that the messages I believe this author wrote to abuse themself with are so much more scathing than anything they wrote to me – their supposed enemy in all this. In fact, the things they’ve said betray an immense insecurity about themselves and their work that breaks my heart. They don’t deserve to feel this way about themselves or their work, and I think they are using this incident as a catalyst for validation of some kind. During the discussion with me, they put themselves down a lot, and it is my honest belief that this person feels so aggrieved because, somehow, they think they can’t do ‘better’ than what I wrote. To be clear, that is a nonsense fear. They are an incredibly strong writer with their own style and sense of direction very distinct from my own. Even with some similar themes, our stories would never be the same.

One thing this author – or one of their sockpuppets – asked that I would like to answer is the question of whether or not I would ‘fight for it,’ were the situation reversed. The answer, friend or sockpuppet, is no. Other writers can, do, and have used my personal ideas, plots, and interpretations of characters freely in their own works, without asking. I have loved reading them. Illustrators have traced my drawings and my 3D models. Power to them. If someone else would like to write a story or make a mod with the same subject matter as any of mine, I would love to see and support it.

The author expressed to me insecurity about feeling that if they finished their story now, they would be accused of copying me. I assured them then, just as I do now, no reasonable person would think that, and if they did, I would be the first in line to tell this hypothetical gobshite where to stick it.

Further, they expressed interest in reporting my story to Ao3 administrators. I suggested if they really felt this way, they ought to. I requested they not delete the original post of theirs that I cited in my credit to them, so that the administrators could be fair to us both in reviewing all information in context, and comparing our works. The author explained they had already deleted it. I retain a full backup of the post, as well as my comments section in full before I made any deletions. I forwarded these to Ao3 myself in my initial report.

“Headcanons” have been put up by fan creators for other fan creators to build off of since time immemorial. It’s good to tag and credit where you found ideas – sharing is caring, and caring is fun. The crux of this author’s complaint seems to be that I didn’t ask them first. This is simply not how publicly posted ideas for fanfiction have worked in my twenty-odd years of writing it. Whilst I respect this person’s upset, I will not capitulate. My story is mine, I have interpreted these ideas in my own way, and I have stolen nothing.

The idea that a fanfiction author is attempting to take another to task with claims about intellectual property is a line of argument I find baffling, to say the least.

As an interesting point of fact, I have been made aware of what this author has said in the body of one of their messages reporting me to Tumblr. In it, they claim to have been in contact with Ao3 site administrators, who have “already agreed to ban” me, on the basis of “evidence” they have sent in. Also, they claim to have law enforcement involved in this situation, as ‘what I am doing to them’ constitutes a “crime.”

I can assure everyone that I have heard from no police, and my account is in good standing with Ao3. This author is attempting to strengthen their argument against me to Tumblr with fully disprovable lies, which at this point, seems to be a pattern.

Whether or not you personally agree with this author’s sentiment that I have violated some social norm, the fact remains that this escalatory, dishonest behaviour is unacceptable, and I will not negotiate with it. One only has to look briefly at my history of engaging with fandom on this site – whatever blog it happens to be from – to see that I am not the kind of person who behaves in the way this author is alleging. I have never in my life sent anonymous hate messages to anyone.

The author has explained to me that they have deleted their entire body of works related to this story that they were writing. They appear to want me to emotionally account in some way for this action, and I will not. This author’s actions and responses to this situation – every last one – are their own, and they alone are responsible for them.

Let me be clear in saying that when this is dealt with by administrators, it is likelier than not that this other author will fully lose their account due to their documented goofiness over this. I personally do not want that outcome for them. I want the same thing that I have wanted throughout this entire stupid mess; to write stories for fun, in peace, and share them with others.

I am very sure that the author will read this, or parts of it at least, as they have a fixation on me at the moment. I am sure they will have something to say about it.

I am not interested in hearing it, and I will not entertain one word of it. Everything I have said is true, I have documented it, I have saved it, and I have given it to whom it concerns.

At best, I have done absolutely nothing wrong. At worst, I have a genuinely different experience with fandom ethos. Either way, this entire business is utter nonsense.

#putting words in specific orders #i quietly released chapter 3 this week #chapter 4 is on the way #if you are here on my blog because of this thing #then this is for you #wayfaringjedi

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taelonsamada · 1 year

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Tid-Bit Tuesday

It’s been a hot minute since I posted any wips!! Figured now was a good time to do so, since I’ve been consumed with a new oneshot idea, and for a boy I’ve pretty much never written! Poor Vincent, he gets so little love from me, considering he’s the gateway that led me to redacted in the first place 😅

I’ve been missing my grandpa pretty hard the last couple weeks, so this is my way of working through that lol my grandpa lost his leg from just below the knee, and while he handled it with grace and great humour (Ooh, the way he’d scare the grandkids with it… love that fucking man LOL) there were still days that were hard on him, and I’d get to see how my grandma would help him through it. It was always really sweet, being able to see the bond between the two of them as she helped him.

So this is kind of like a tribute or me paying my respects to the love between my grandparents that I got to see growing up, I guess 😅 it should be up later today, so long as I don’t get trapped in editing hell or distracted by woodslife stuff lol

Tagging @romirola @zozo-01 @ejunkiet & @darlincollins because they’ve all tagged me recently in their wonderful wips and I need to catch up! XD ♥️ also tagging @dominimoonbeam @lovelylonerliterature @glassbearclock @dollscircus and @sollucets cause I’m nosy and wanna see what you’re working on LOL

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It would pass. It always did. He’d been enduring phantom pain like this for the last two decades, he knew what was going to happen. He just had to be patient, ride it out.

William would know. It didn’t matter how long he gave himself to recover, to settle and recoup before heading out to be with the rest of the clan. William knew when it was a bad day. Something he could see or smell, something so minute that Vincent couldn’t disguise it. The bond between progeny and Maker, perhaps. He’d know, and it would break his heart.

Vincent wished, yet again, that he could take back all those words he’d said in the first few years towards his maker.

He knew that William still blamed himself for not being able to save his leg, still carried guilt for Vincent having to mourn the loss of a limb on top of all the other pain and grief that came with adapting to life as a vampire. A guilt that Vincent had absolutely played on in his early days, hurling curses and accusations that he now felt awful about.

For all his power and strength, even William wouldn’t have been able to save his leg, not after the damage the crash had done. Vincent’s outrage over the loss had merely been another way of exorcising his grief for the life that had been taken from him.

He’d grown to accept this change alongside all the others in his new existence, and on the good days it was something he almost embraced and celebrated. Treating it as a badge of honour, a testament to what he’d survived. As well as using it as a way to fuck with the new members of the clan whenever they joined.

The faces they’d make when the Solaire Prince collapsed in front of them and screamed as his leg, to quote Alexis, ‘flopped about below the knee like a badly gutted fish’, were priceless.

#my writing #writing excerpt #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted fanfiction #redacted vincent

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ijumpbridges · 6 months

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Conferences

Happy Birthdayyyy to meeeeee, so im making a weird story.

@nayafenix15

Bridges was at a conference at the Vegas hotel, turns out he made friends with a guy who was also a higher rank with him and apparently he knew Bridges, and so they hit it off together.

Bridges lean into one of the windows and then jump a little when he felt something hit the windows.

“Pero la semilla” He said turning around and sees Billy.

Bridges opens the windows and Billy gets inside.

“Bruh, we been looking for you” Billy said getting inside the window.

“Billy.. this is a 7th floor, how are you here?” Bridges said.

“It was by accident but that doesn’t matter”

“It matters, you are on a conference and the weirdest thing no one has notice you came through to the window, you can’t be here. Let me take you out of here” Bridges said touching his shoulder.

Billy didn’t say anything, just follow Bridges lead as they both head to the door. A man from afar sees them and chases after then, he grabs Bridges arm and stops him from leaving.

“You leaving so soon, friend?” He grabs Bridges arm to which scares him and flinches it away, hiding it, the man still notice but rather not bring it up.

“Ah, sorry, but i had to take this one back, not sure how he got in, this is my Nephew” Bridges lies and the man smiles.

“Why are you-“ Billy gets hit by Bridges and stays quiet.

“Ah, what a lovely young man, he probably is going to grow up and be a fighter just like you”

“Oh no, he already is, he has been in combat before” Bridges said, Billy just watched the man, feeling a weird vibe from him.

“That’s very nice, [Redacted] can i have your number? You and your work experience can help us for our next meeting. You could teach more young kids about law enforcement, what do you say?” The man said, he smile unlike Bridges, he wasn’t happy.

“I’ll give it to you in a sec, I’ll be right back” Bridges said hurrying with Billy. Billy notice his grip has tightened on his shoulder

“What’s the matter? Why did you lie? Your hands” Billy asked him and pointed the hand.

“That guy, he said my name. I never told me him my name, we have to get out” Bridges said in a low tone, taking him to a table, where there was a towel, a bag that was open. Bridges went through his stuff.

“What” Billy said shocked.

“Billy, we need to leave. I brought my phone.. i cant find it” Bridges said taking out a phone.

“You have it, isn’t that the one?” Billy pointed out.

“No, i brought another one. Y’know how people have two phones one personal and another for business, i cant find the business one” Bridges said looking around for it.

“Did you go anywhere else? Before we met?” Billy asked Bridges, giving an ideas of where it could be.

“Bathroom, let’s go” Bridges said grabbing his bag and once again taking Billy with him with the same grip on his shoulder.

As they went to the bathroom, someone else follow them withou tthem notcing them.

“I was in here before you got inside of the window…” He said getting inside of a bathroom stall.

“Bridges!” Someone called, it was a woman, catching Bridges attention for the familiar voice.

“Hello?” Bridges said confuse.

“Bridges what the fuck” The woman said approaching him with mixed feelings. “Why did you came back!?”

“Sammy, how are you?”

“Bridges there no time for hellos you are wanted by 7 states, and 3 military branches” She said making Bridges face go pale

“Holy shit, what the fuck has happen”

“You seriously asking me? They are saying that you were involve on a riot that you cause, infiltration, a attacking and giving confidential information, these men are here cuz they were planning into hunting you”

“Im accuse of what!? You know im innocent right?” Bridges said shocked.

“Of course i do, i got your phone, but you have to get out” Sammy said showing him his phone, she threw it for him to catch it.

Bridges catches his phone, they al start talking on how to get out of this whole mess.

“That should keep them occupied” 999 said, as the others kept themselves busy.

4840, 076, 2396, Allison, Naya, Ivan, and everyone else where trying to find Bridges, one is to keep him away for a surprise and two is to know where he was, he went missing for 5 hours.

“Now, we can plan a small surprise for him” 076 said.

“How do you remember it was his birthday?” 2396 asked 076.

“Before i killed all the agents of omega we had a birthday party for him, that same day the birthday boy was covered in cake and blood” 076 said.

“That’s a bit dark” Ivan said throwing his cigarettes on the floor.

“Yeah, not my proudest moment” 076 said.

“Well, no sad moments, if we tried making a birthday party there shouldn’t be sad moments” 2396 said.

“Yeah, so lets get to work” Naya said.

Everyone started to plan around, buying a small cake, some small gifts, and booking reservations to get for the small gathering. At 5pm, half of the things were done.

“We are all done” Allison said.

“I guess we can tell Billy or Bridges to come by now” 2396 said.

4840 used his phone to call them

“They are not picking up” Seth said.

“What do you mean they are not answering the phone” 076 said.

~~~

Bridges jumps out of a window with Billy who was clinging onto his arm now mutated arm and side, to protect himself from getting harm. They get in the rough ground, mostly Bridges hitting the ground, and preventing Billy to get hit. A few seconds pass, Bridges looked.

“Billy! Are you okey?” Bridges asked him, touching and moving him with his other hand.

“Yeah, im okey, but…” Billy pause to look at Bridges, covered in blood, glass, and looked at his mutated arm.

“Yeah.. don’t tell anyone” Bridges said in pain, noticing Billy looking at his arm, letting Billy go with his mutated hand and transform his arm into his old purple looking arm and hid it.

“Those that hurt you?” Billy asked him.

“Yeah, i barely tried to control it, i use painkillers, most of the time they work, but not all of the time.” Bridges said.

Billy only looked at the arm and Bridges looked away visible uncomfortable, hiding his arm from him.

“We should head back to the others and.. don’t tell anyone..” Bridges said and Billy just noddedz

Billy and Bridges came back, still holding his grip onto him, they were covered in blood although unbothered by it.

Billy guides Bridges to where the rest of the other were at, instead of taking a long way and hoping Bridges doesn’t notice it.

“Happy Birthday Bridges!” Everyone yelled, Bridges closed his ears from the noise.

“Wow, Billy i didn’t know it was your birthday” Bridges said.

“Are you deaf? We said Bridges no Billy” 4840 said.

“Oh my bad” Bridges said.

“But its not my birthday”

“Its October 14, you a Juggalo, don’t you remember you share birthday with Shaggy and the 076 incident was also on your birthday”

Bridges started thinking, his head was on the air.

Bridges and Billy looked at each other.

“Sooo…. Question. Where those agents trying to kill me stage or should we worry?”

“Agents?!” Allison yelled eyes wide open.

Then an explosion happen.

~~~

“Grandpa… what are you doing?” Asked Billy, slowly waking up and coughing up as he saw Bridges smoking.

“Protecting you, Silly” He responded with the Cigarette on his mouth.

“What” Billy said and he felt the heat of the fire behind him. He turns to see it, there were multiple people on the ground and a strange man in a suit, he was the source of the heat, this guy was floating, twisting his head.

“Bridges what’s going on?” Billy said looking back at Bridges he looked strange, he was glowing, but also visibly blurry, that’s the last thing he saw before passing out.

____

The end.

I might continue this or nah, this isn’t much canon, but oh well XD.

Happy birthday to me.

@nayafenix15

#op talking #scp 076 #scp #scp foundation #captain bridges #serpent's hand #scp 4840 #hollyhollynigthmare #scp fandom #scp oc #scp au #scp 076 2 #scp 999 #scp 2396 #scp ocs

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