#if anything the tunnel vision from having one is likely to make you ignore all your issues

[dyketubbo]

forgive me if i lose tubbo character analysis points (rolls eyes heavily) over this or something but i honestly dont think the date was very ooc or that the frubbo romance is going to be played as something that makes qtubbo better. obviously qtubbo gained a lot of trust issues and lost a lot of hope in others + started to strongly believe that love only hurts after purgatory and the funeral. and hes an extremely defeatist guy at heart

but he also makes exceptions because no matter how much he tries to disconnect himself he still cares so so much about others. he has such a weird fucked up view of love and justifies seeing sunny as an exception by saying they wont hurt each other because their love is unconditional and yet he also claims empanada isnt safe when bagi is around because the eye workers will use that connection to their advantage And Yet he constantly looks after and takes care of sunny anyways. even though hes already mourning her before theyve even died. even though by his own logic it may be safer for sunny to not be with him

and like.. he says dont get attached empathy makes you weak but he tries to ruin fit & pacs date so they dont abandon him. he still jokes around with them and has happy moments with them bc ultimately theyre his friends and even if they dont Really understand what hes going through or what would help him they want to be there for him and make him happy and they Do make him happy. bc qtubbo doesnt spend all of his time with his friends whining and groaning about how theyre going to leave him some day and despite being suicidal and defeatist and at times a fucking jerk that isnt his whole personality

depressed people Have happy days. they have ups and peaks in their life and yeah actually many of them do manage to have nice relationships and theres a lot of depressed people out there who are fully capable of just. not being complete downers to be around all the time (cough a lot of comedians have depression cough). if anything i would argue it isnt just in character but realistic for qtubbo to be able to just. have a normal date where hes a bit of a loser and manages to get through an actual confession

and its not like hes going all in oh we're dating and we're going to get married now bc he doesnt even consider themselves boyfriends and he turns down sunny claiming fred as another parent. he just had a happy day and it boosted his mood a little. i dont think fred is really on his list of trusted people and in fact i feel like him just being very silly and awkward during the date is a Part of him not fully trusting fred or wanting to be super serious around/with her. i think to qtubbo fred symbolizes sure some pain from the whole funeral situation but also still a lot of happier simpler times and ultimately a time where tubbo was happier and openly hopeful

if anything, tubbos relationship with fred is another form of escapism for him. of course it isnt going to make him better. he literally brought fred to him and sunnys island where they plan to live far away from everyone to avoid their problems. its all a fantasy for him, and one that he isnt even allowing himself to fully jump into but will joke about and dance around the subject of nonetheless

#'the gay sex will make him better' 'the gay sex will make him worse' the gay sex is just another way for him to avoid his problems #ultimately the hope is still there in qtubbo. hes buried it down deep but its in there #let him have some joyous whimsy. the boy is barely serious about his own issues of course hes going to spend the date- #-making stupid minecraft pick up lines and being extremely awkward. what did you expect from him be fr #mask mews #should i count this as an analysis proper. i guesss #amaryllis analyzes #tubbo #fred qsmp #frubbo #qsmp #anyways qtubbo is bpd realness #having an fp doesnt solve all of your problems being in a relationship doesnt solve all of your problems #if anything the tunnel vision from having one is likely to make you ignore all your issues #bc you feel happy so you stop caring about working on yourself #if you even cared in the first place

[cringefail-clown]

Jakehal is very fun. But why dirkkri? I dont understand what's appealing about it :? confused

theres a lot of things i like about dirkri and honestly i dont even know where to start lmfao

first of all, and its mostly a funny reason - davekat on crack. like some traces of davekat are still there - the arguing about shit, stoic facade vs emotional mess, all the good stuff, but its also so much more exaggerated it makes it this much more ridiculous. gets even better when you consider them under the lense of swap aus like alphaswitch or tbau, where they land on the meteor together. theyre most likely hunting each other for sports by the year two

second of all, the funney. theyd be so fucking funny together. their smallest arguments would take like twenty pages of non-stop flow of red-orange text to resolve, and not because they came to a consensus but because some third party physically dragged them away from their electronics. it doesnt do any good, since it only gives them both time to think over new arguments to use, and theyre back at it as soon as they get their phones back. like if we had a tournament about which ship would do the most collateral damage to the overall group, i think these two would be Up There. karkat would gauge his eyes out from frustration, because now not only does he have to deal with his piece of shit, know-it-all other self, but now theres also Fucking Dirk thrown into the mix. their home life is absolute insanity, a small jab about the other forgetting to buy sugar once again devolves into a screaming match about the merits and flaws of communism or some other inane shit. and theyre doing it for fun, they enjoy debating with each other, because often times they have vastly different opinions, and comparing their beliefs challenges them intelectually and morally. from the outside perspective theyre one of the most dysfunctional pair in the paradox space, when in fact thats simply how they want their relationship to be, and it makes them better people overall.

third reason is that theyre thematically delicious. dirk is a control freak, micromanaging his and his friends constantly. hes terrified of losing control, but hes also desperate for someone to just tell him what the fuck he should do. dirk doesnt think he should be in control of others, because he believes hes a naturally evil person capable of horrible acts, at the same time he doesnt trust anyone else to get things done but himself. hes a whole collection of contradictions.

kankri desperately needs to be in control as well. hes constantly injecting himself into conversations he has no business being in, trying to find someone thatd listen to what he has to say. hes wants to guide others, but his efforts are flawed, because he doesnt listen to other perspectives - hes got tunnel vision, as he thinks hes the one in the right while everyone else is wrong or ignorant (cringefail seer literally). he doesnt trust anyone else to make decisions for him, and becomes defensive when he thinks others are attempting to coddle him. his ass was definitely culled on beforus.

theyre also both so fucking lonely. dirk conciously tries to put difference between himself and his friends, worrying hell "corrupt" them. kankri tries to connect to his friends, but his behavior alienates him from them to the point of no one except maybe porrim want to have anything to do with him.

my point is, kankri wants to guide people but has to learn to listen to others and reflect on his own flawed opinions. dirk has to learn to trust that people closest to him can get shit done on their own and loosen up, as well as realise hes not evil at the core. them helping each other out - dirk teaching kankri about different perspectives, kankri teaching dirk about letting others do their thing - is something i think about a lot.

also i like to think theyd spar for fun a lot as well. its not really a reason and wholly my own personal headcanon but i wanna mention it as well bc its so funny to me. i like the idea of kankris behaviour being a complete reverse of karkat - where karkat is all bark no bite and doesnt like fighting or violence, kankri puts up a front of the beacon of love and peace and tolerance, but in his free time he gets his rifle and goes shooting at the fucking squirrels or some shit. i think he wouldnt have the same qualms about strifing as karkat. like dirk would try to jokingly jab his finger at kankris side and he would just fucking flip him over his shoulder and onto the table breaking it in half, because he doesnt like being touched unexpectedly and by gods dirk when will you fucking learn. he goes from 0 to 100 real fast. its such a hysterical concept for me.

#homestuck #dirk strider #kankri vantas #dirkri #dirkkri #turnabout au #homestuck turnabout #alphaswitch #tagging it as well bc well. dirkri #is it dirkri manifesto? its dirkri manifesto #wally where are you i need your words tell em tell em why dirkri is so fucking good

[sissylittlefeather]

We Can Make the Morning

(or Angel Take 7)

A one-shot

A/N: I've had this idea for a while and just decided to go ahead and write it the other day while I was watching Elvis On Tour. I hope y'all enjoy this 1972 Elvis x fem!reader one-shot!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, handjob, ejaculation, oral sex (f receiving), possible concussion

Word count: ~3.7k

Greensboro, North Carolina. You've lived here your whole life. And you've been an Elvis fan since you heard his first record at the tender age of fifteen. Now you're in your early thirties and you finally find yourself at one of his shows. You've never managed to go to one before and something about this feels like destiny. Still, the best you could afford is a seat at the front of the balcony, but you're next to where he'll walk into and out of the arena. If you push, you might be able to get a pretty good glimpse of him, and that's all you've ever really wanted. You dream of more, but you know better than to think he's going to notice you or anything.

April 14th, 1972 is show day, finally. You get dressed and try to ignore your nerves as you fix your hair and swipe on your makeup. You opt for your favorite bell bottoms and a cropped peasant blouse. It's not the dressiest outfit you own, but it flatters you and shows off all your best assets. Not that it matters much. He'll never see you.

At the arena, you make your way to your seat and try to survey whether you'll be able to get to a place where you can really see him up close. Eventually the lights go down and the music starts up. You head over to the railing, but there's a hundred girls between you and the tunnel. There's no way you can fight through them this time. You'll have to try again at the end of the concert. You head back to your seat with a new determination.

The show is incredible.

He's wearing a dark blue jumpsuit with a belt that has an owl on it, as he points out during one of the songs. Even as far away as you are, you can tell he looks amazing. His voice is on point and his performance is unmatched. You sit in silence with your lips parted slightly and your eyes wide. It's like he's made of stardust. And you're not going to let him pass by without seeing him up close.

He ends the show with Can't Help Falling In Love and then bows with his arms held out holding the silver cape. You know he's going to move fast through the tunnel, so you run to the railing and push your way through all the women gathered there. It's hot and hard to breathe and your heart is pounding. You're pressed up against the railing where it hits you just below the waist. Your position on your platform boots is precarious but you lean over anyway, just in case he reaches up. You feel yourself getting lightheaded from the excitement, but you're not going to miss this for anything, no matter how you feel. Just then, you see him headed for the tunnel. Your ears start ringing and the edges of your vision go dark. You can't believe it's really him. As the blackness envelops you, someone behind you pushes on your back and you feel yourself falling...

******

On stage, Elvis knows he's putting on a hell of a show. The energy from the crowd is electric and the camera crew seems excited by the footage they're collecting. In truth, he's ready to be done with this damn movie. Ready to be done with this damn tour. He enjoys the stage portion but everything in between is grueling. And honestly, the loneliness has been setting in pretty hard for him, especially in the middle of the night. Sometimes he picks up a girl at a show, but most of his encounters are empty. And even if he does find someone he likes, the conversation is lacking or she's so starstruck she can't do much more than giggle or try way too hard to impress him in bed. He longs for a real connection.

On stage, though, he lives his dream every night. This show in North Carolina is particularly satisfying for some reason and he comes off the stage with a smile on his face. He makes his way quickly to the car, heading for the tunnel lined with screaming fans. Looking up briefly, something strange captures his eye.

He reacts quickly without thinking, throwing his arms out to catch you just before you hit the ground. Somehow, you fall perfectly into his grasp and he holds you like a baby. He's stopped running, so his entourage encircles him to urge him forward.

"You can't stop here, man!"

"Put her down; let's go!" He looks down at you in his arms and realizes you're out cold.

"I can't! She's out, guys!"

"You're gonna have to drop her!" He shakes his head vigorously.

"No. I'm bringin' her with me." The guys make eye contact across him. They know when he's like this there's no arguing with him. He starts moving forward again with you in his arms.

At the car, the guys try again to get him to drop you with a security guard, but he refuses.

"It's my fault she's like this! I'm not leavin' her!" He gets into the backseat of his car, holding you on his lap. The other guys roll their eyes and squeeze in with him. It was a tight fit even before you were there, so now it's almost impossible for them to smash into the car. He wraps his arms around you tighter and holds you to him while the guys pile in. Sweat from the show slides down his face and he looks at you in his arms. The gentle lines of your features are intriguing and he wonders what your name is. For a moment, he forgets where he is and does something a little strange. He pulls your face to his and presses his lips to your forehead. That's when your eyelids flutter and you stir.

******

You sit up quickly and look around, trying to figure out where you are. You're in a car of some kind with a bunch of men you don't recognize. You try desperately to remember how you got here.

"Hey, honey. Are you alright?" When you hear his voice, you whip your head around.

"Oh." You answer breathlessly. "It's you."

He chuckles softly and his smile almost causes you to pass out again.

"It's me. I'm sorry, honey, I just didn't want to leave you there in that state."

"State?"

"Do you remember falling over the wall?" You cover your face in embarrassment.

"Oh my god..." He laughs softly again.

"Honey, it's okay. It happens."

"This has happened before?!"

"Well, not exactly..." One of the guys cuts in and you realize you're sitting on Elvis's lap with his arms around you. You fight to keep your composure.

"We're here, boss." The door opens and the guys climb out of the car until it's just you and Elvis.

"I'd like you to stay, so I can keep an eye on you. Is that okay?"

"I'm not sure it's necessary..."

"I say it is. Come on." You're not going to argue with him. He pats your bottom and you climb out of the car, followed closely by him.

On the sidewalk, you stumble a little, still woozy from passing out. He wraps his arm around your waist and steadies you.

"Do I need to carry you, honey?" The concern on his face is so endearing you almost melt into the ground.

"N-no, I think I'm okay."

"Alright. I'm gonna keep a hold of ya, though." You nod and he smiles genially. Then, the two of you make your way into the hotel surrounded by his bodyguards. At the elevator, he tries to dismiss them, and they refuse to leave him alone, but when he speaks sternly and insists that he'd like to be left alone, they listen and watch as he gets on the elevator with just you. Once the doors slide shut, he turns to you and puts both hands on your hips.

"What's your name, honey?"

"Oh! I'm y/n. I'm really sorry about this."

"Don't be." He waves his hand to dismiss your apology. "I just want to make sure you're okay. Do you remember if you hit your head on the way down?"

"I don't. I think I might've been out before I fell."

"You still might've hit your head." The elevator dings and the doors open. He keeps one arm around your waist and ushers you down the hallway to his room. You look at him in his jumpsuit and wonder where he might possibly have a key stashed. He bends down and pulls it out of his boot, standing and unlocking the door. You stumble a little walking across the threshold and he steadies you again, watching you with even more concern. Once you're in the room with the door shut behind you, he seats you next to him on the couch. You yawn and blink slowly. Somehow, you're exhausted.

"Are you sleepy?"

"Mhmm." You answer, yawning again.

"Okay. We need to keep you awake. If you hit your head, you shouldn't go to sleep."

"I don't feel like I hit my head." He reaches out and puts his hand on your cheek.

"I'm not willing to take any chances, honey." You nod slowly and notice that his eyes flick down to your lips. He clears his throat and pulls his hand back. You're a little surprised that he almost seems shy.

"You're sure I can't just lay down?"

"No, baby, you gotta stay awake." He looks down at himself and then to the bathroom. "I need to shower, though. But I hate to leave you alone."

"I really think I'm okay." He looks at skeptically as you yawn yet again.

"No. You're comin' with me. You can wear your underwear in the shower. I won't touch you. C'mon." He makes you stand up off of the couch and takes your hand, walking you to the bathroom. You want to tell him that you'd happily get in the shower with him naked, but you don't. He puts you in first, facing the back of the shower and then you hear him undress and get in behind you. You're dying to peek and see what he looks like without his jumpsuit, but he's being so kind that you can't violate his privacy like that. Still, the knowledge that Elvis Presley is naked behind you in the shower makes you a little crazy. Just when you think it can't get much more endearing, he starts humming. Your heart melts when his humming turns to quiet singing and you're dying to turn around and wrap him in your arms. He's so much more precious in person than you ever dreamed he could be.

You're lost in a reverie when the shower turns off and you feel him turn to face you. You can tell he's looking at you and you want to turn around so badly. Everything inside you is screaming at you to just turn around. But it's like you're frozen where you stand. When he kisses your shoulder, though, your head rolls to the side and you're desperate for him to touch you. He doesn't though. Instead, he whispers.

"You stay here, baby. I'll get you a towel." He gets out of the shower and hands you a towel. "There's a robe hanging on the door. I'm right outside."

You dry off and slip out of your wet undergarments, wrapping the fluffy robe around yourself. When you open the door, he's sitting on the couch with a towel around his waist. He looks up at you in the robe and swallows deeply. You sit on the edge of the bed and smile awkwardly. He returns your smile.

"I'm going to get dressed. Stay here and don't go to sleep."

"Yes, sir." He chuckles softly and moves back to the bathroom. You settle against the pillows and hastily break your promise to stay awake. The warmth of rest washes over you and your eyes close.

******

Elvis puts you in the shower in your underwear facing away from him. It's impossible for him not to notice your figure, though. The curve of your ass in your white panties about drives him crazy. He strips naked and turns the shower on. Through the whole shower, he tells himself not to get aroused just at your proximity. Once he's finished, he pulls the handle to make the water stop and then turns to face you. Your hair and your body are wet from the shower and he wants to touch you so badly that it almost hurts. Without thinking, he leans down and presses his lips to your shoulder. It's an indulgence he should have resisted, but something about you is intoxicating. He breathes deeply and pulls himself away to get you a towel. Once he does, he walks out into the room and sits on the couch. What is it about you that has him so out of sorts?

When you come out in the robe, it takes all of his self control to keep from ripping it off of you. But he wants more from this. He wants to know you, not just fuck you and move on.

"I'm going to get dressed. Stay here and don't go to sleep." You give him a salute and he chuckles, making his way back to the bathroom. After about thirty seconds, though, he has a bad feeling. He doesn't even get his pants on and walks back into the room still in his towel.

He was right. You're asleep.

He moves to the bed quickly and sits next to you, shaking you gently.

"Hey, baby, wake up." You don't stir and he starts to panic. He thinks back to how he woke you up in the car and leans in and kisses your forehead. Still, you stay asleep. He kisses your cheek and then finally, he presses his lips to yours. Finally, your eyes flutter open and he smiles. "You're back."

******

"I am. You kissed me."

"I'm sorry; I was getting desperate." He looks into your eyes and your smiles fade.

"Do it again." You whisper and he nods, pulling your face back into his. He crashes his lips into yours and the kiss moves to a fever pitch as he parts your lips with his and slips his tongue into your mouth. He puts both hands on your cheeks and you sit up on your knees, ready to crawl into his lap. Thats when he notices his erection under the towel. It's impossible to hide and he pulls away, looking down, and trying to push his cock down to make it less obvious.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry, honey."

"Don't be. It's okay." He shakes his head.

"No. It's not. I brought you up here just to keep an eye on you and now this." He's ashamed at his reaction to you. He feels your finger under his chin and you pull his face to looking into yours.

"Elvis, I've loved you for as long as I can remember. Meeting you? Knowing you? It just confirms everything I've ever believed to be true about you." He melts at your words and pulls you in close to him, kissing you deeply. But he pulls away again.

"I don't want to hurt you. I don't know if you should do... this..."

"Then maybe I can do this..." You reach your hand forward and run it down his chest to the top of the towel. Then, he inhales sharply as you move further down to where his cock is erect underneath it. You slide your hand under the towel carefully and take him in your palm. He moans softly as you begin to stroke him, moving his foreskin back and forth gently.

"God, baby, that feels so good. You don't have to-"

"Shhh. You've been taking care of me all night. Let me take care of you." His hips buck into your hand as you continue to pump him. He grunts and leans his head back as you move your hand a little faster.

"Mmm, baby..." He moans as you push his foreskin back and collect a bead of precum that's gathered there, running your thumb across his sensitive head. He leans back and lets you move the towel out of the way to free his cock and stroke it in the open. You pump him a little faster and he groans again. "It's so good, baby."

He feels your lips on his cheek as you move your hand on him and turns to kiss you. He looks into your eyes and puts his hand on your cheek, leaning in to capture your lips again. Then, he presses his forehead to yours and whispers.

"Thank you..." You smile and continue moving your hand up and down on him gently. He throws his head back and his hips buck again. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna-"

A guttural groan rises from his throat as he cums, hard, and shoots his climax all over your hand. You pump him through his release and he shudders into your palm. He uses the towel to wipe your hand clean and then lays back on the bed.

You giggle a little and lay back with him. He turns and looks at you.

"I haven't been that satisfied with a handjob in years."

"I haven't given one in years." You smile. He rolls over and smothers you in kisses, forgetting for a second that you might be hurt. He pulls back and looks into your eyes, reaching down to undo the tie on your robe. His hand runs underneath it onto your stomach and down to your hip.

"Can I make you feel good too, honey?" You nod frantically and he laughs out loud. Then he stops and looks at you seriously. "Alright, just don't move around too much. I'll never forgive myself if this hurts you."

"I really think I'm fine." He sinks to the floor between your knees and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He spreads your legs, kissing the inside of each of your thighs gently. You moan softly as he leans forward and drags his tongue up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top.

"Oh, god, Elvis!" You whimper as he continues to move his mouth on you. He swirls his tongue over and around your clit in tantalizing circles. The sensation drives you wild and your pussy clenches around nothing as he licks you. He dips down and pushes his tongue into your slit several times before slipping one of his long fingers inside you. You whine and arch your back as he pumps his finger in and out and goes back to dragging his tongue over your clit. The pressure of your orgasm builds as he works and you know you won't last too much longer. He pulls back a little and flicks your sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue, teasing your orgasm out of you.

"Cum for me, baby." He whispers, pressing his whole mouth to you and moving his tongue on you hard.

"Oh, yes! Yes!" You cry out as your orgasm crashes into you, pumping through your veins like electric shockwaves. He continues working his mouth on you as you ride out your high, your hand in his hair.

When you finally come back down and stop shuddering, he pulls back, wiping his face with his hand and laying next to you on the bed.

"Wow." He chuckles and looks over at you. "No, seriously, I've never had a man...get me there."

"Really?"

"I mean, they've tried, but never successfully. It's like I was waiting for you."

"Honey, I feel like I've been waiting for you too." He rolls over and put his hand on your cheek.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't explain it. Something about being here with you, feels like I was meant to catch you."

"It feels like I was meant to fall." He presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply. You shimmy out of the robe and get under the covers with him. He holds your naked body close to his own, running his hands over you gently as you talk.

You spend the rest of the night in conversation and soft touches. He tells you stories about his life and listens attentively when you share yours. The connection between you strengthens with each passing hour and each soft caress and each sweet kiss.

When the sun peeks through the curtains of your hotel room, he pushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"I think you're okay, baby. You haven't had any other symptoms and it's probably been long enough now that you would have."

"Should I leave?"

"Not unless you want to."

"I don't."

"Then stay. We made it to the morning. We can rest now." You nod and he settles on your chest. You're both asleep within minutes, wrapped around each other.

Eventually, there's a harsh knock on the door and someone calls to him from the other side of it.

"Hey, boss, we gotta be wheels up in twenty."

"Okay." He hollers back, groaning and stretching.

"I'm sorry I kept you up all night." You whisper.

"Don't be, honey, that's the best night I've had in years." You both get up and start to get dressed. When you're fully put back together, he grabs you and pulls you into a warm embrace.

"I hate that you're leaving." You mumble into his chest.

"Come with me."

"What? No, I can't."

"Why not?" You wrack your brain for a reason, but there's nothing keeping you here. Nothing that's more important than him.

"Okay." You look up into his face, your arms still wrapped around each other.

"Really?"

"Yes. Can we swing by my apartment and let me grab a few things?"

"Baby, I'm Elvis Presley, we can do whatever we want." He leans in and kisses you softly again. "You know somethin'?"

"Hmm?"

"I know I caught you when you fell, but I think you're the one who saved me tonight." He takes your hand to lead you out of the room and into your future. "My own little angel fell right out of the sky. I'm so glad you did."

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley x y/n #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley smut #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x you

[0v3rcast]

Gnaw (3)

(Warnings: Blood, Violence, Body Horror)

When you wake, you are starving. It feels like someone's torn out your stomach and left a yawning cavern inside of you that threatens to make you collapse in on yourself in a desperate attempt to fill the void.

You cannot think through the sheer ravenousness of this hunger. Morals and principles have dissolved under the infinite maw within that threatens to consume you.

You stand shakily, eyes darting around as you search for even the faintest hint to the location of nearby food.

And then you see it. The most beautiful thing you've ever laid eyes on.

A sparrow.

Your mouth begins to water at the thought of meat. Pork, beef, fowl, venison, mutton? It's food.

You creep towards it, vision already tunneling, and prepare to lunge. In a burst of movement, you blitz towards the unaware bird and your hand clamps down on it like a vice.

It is at this point that another, more sane person would kill the animal and dress it for cooking. You are not that person right now.

You stuff the bird into your mouth and begin to chew. You don't particularly give a shit if it's alive right now, you're starving.

You bravely ignore the way it sounds like the world's most morbid popcorn.

Blood hits your tongue. It's the most brilliant thing you've ever tasted. There is no tang of iron or bitterness. There is just warmth that flows through your veins like a wildfire inside you.

If anything, you feel a little high.

Perhaps, in another time, the thought of consuming another living being might have turned your stomach. Maybe you'd sworn off meats at all in favor of something less cruel.

You aren't at the pilot seat right now. There is an animal there, sating the most primal urge in existence - to live.

For a moment, though, let's step away from your perspective, and instead talk about what's happening to you.

From the moment you came to Teyvat, dormant bits of your biology have been returning to function now that there is elemental energy to sustain them.

Those parts will rewrite your genetic code to restore you to godhood.

Right now, however, you are in a rather malleable state - not quite human anymore, but not quite divine.

Luckily for you, there are options other than waiting.

Everything on this planet has a trace of what you were in it. Every being, every plant, every animal, every stone, and every speck of dust has an itty bitty bit of you in the form of elemental energy. And you can reclaim it.

By dying, you've been taking back the energy from the strikes used to end you.

By eating, you absorb the elemental energy inside the food.

You, much like the allogenes, have some limits to break, each step bringing you closer to the next 'star'.

You've just reached the first one. Congratulations.

All of a sudden, you feel like, well, a new person. It's as though you've woken up from the aftereffects of a really shitty nap and banished the grogginess.

You are awake in a way you weren't, and suddenly, the world just feels sharper.

(In a separate dimension, the elements of Teyvat cheer. You're one step closer to taking this place back from your poor imitation.)

Unbeknownst to you, attacking you has had consequences for Mondstadt.

Their wine is vinegar now. It's as if someone's mixed every last drop of booze with lots and lots of fresh air.

Oops.

Beer? Gone. That's just trash now. Oxidation wrecks the flavor in that, too.

Stored meat has been rotting, plants are wilting on the vine, animals birth nothing. The clouds have parted, and a miserably hot sun has decided to cheerily bake the faces of every single human being in Mondstadt.

The winds do not blow. There is no breeze.

(The only person not feeling like they've stepped into an oven is Eula, who is beginning to suffer the effects of hypothermia.

She killed you, and now Cryo is going to punish her by not regulating the energy they push into her Vision. She will slowly freeze to death and feel every cell of her body dying from cold unless she grovels at your feet.

Cryo - an ancient, inhuman element as old as this universe - thinks this is a rather lenient punishment and not an excruciating torture. You will likely need to teach them otherwise when you reclaim your throne.)

Prayers in Mondstadt have doubled and maybe even tripled. Sacrifices of food can't be given, so instead, they're offering Mora. Piles and piles of coins now give your shrines a stately golden glow under the light of the vicious sun.

For the first time in centuries, Venti takes to his knees and prays.

You are not there to hear their begging for clemency.

And as a god, you never particularly thought you'd need an answering machine, so it's not like the prayers get saved.

(This is the first time since your creation of Teyvat that the elements have put their squabbles aside and the first time they've worked together to make a group of people absolutely miserable, and honestly? They're having a great time.)

You've been running around this beach for a while, laughing happily as you enjoy your newfound strength and stamina.

You can skip a rock fifteen times before it sinks. That's pretty dope. You didn't even know you got the technique down so perfectly until now.

A strange pressure builds in your head and you begin to have a vision. Not the kind you wear on your person, and grants you elemental powers - the kind where you have an out-of-body experience and See Some Shit.

Before you stands a tall, androgynous figure. They're dressed in comfy clothes that lack any regional indicator of origin. If anything, the style reminds you of clothing from Earth.

Hell, they just look like someone that probably would have belonged to your old world. The reason you know who they are is their eyes and the symbol where a pupil would normally be.

They give you a crooked grin, face brightening just a tiny bit as they offer a hand to shake.

"Hello again, Great Maelstrom. I think it's time you and I reconnected, hm?"

((Taglist of lovely people:

@the-dumber-scaramouche

@thatdeadaquarius

@ssak-i

@imyme20

@fried-lotud

@acacla

@itz-luna

@iruiji

@crierofirony

@itsredactedlove

@sweetsthetik

@leafanonsforest

@kkazuyass

@featuredtofu

@oxyotl (whose name I misspelled in my taglist notes as 'oxylotl', like some kind of oxygen axolotl)

Apologies to @galaxy-batsy-world, it refuses to let me tag you. Do you have a different @?))

#genshin sagau #sagau cult au #reader has a terrible time #genshin angst #sagau gnaw #reader eats a bird #i cant think of anything else to add right now

[mehriigss]

Rottmnt weird drabble/one shot because I have anxiety so Leo has anxiety too.

Based on a headcanon you can find here.

Leo was at the verge of a panic attack. No, he was going into a full anxiety spiral. The best part? He was currently having a family dinner.

Everyone was having fun. Raph was stuffing his face with Mikey's meatballs, April was trying to prevent him from choking, his twin was recording everything with his phone, his father was scolding him for using his phone during a family event, Mikey was still cooking in April's kitchen and Draxum and himself were having a smooth conversation about biology. About literal photosynthesis to be precise. He might hate him but he has to admit Draxum really knew how to get him to talk.

There were oh so many details in every single thing his family was doing right now, but he's brain chose to focus on himself. How selfish.

Draxum was rambling about his favourite photosystem when it hit him. The increased heart rate, the tunnel vision, the distorted hearing, the nausea, the damn choking sensation and that fucking piercing pain in his chest that just won't go away for the rest of the week.

Why did his anxiety have to be such an opportunistis?

He stared at Draxum like he was trying to read his soul out loud. Leo could hear him but he wasn't listening. No words seem to get into his brain but the usual 'you're nothing but your brothers', 'too little too late for redemption', 'you'll never change', 'under that mask is a scared little boy'.

Did Draxum just make him a question? He could tell by Draxum's body language.

"So?" Said Draxum to the turtle that barely registrated anything but the strong static in his ears.

Masking this kind of things was easy for him. He just had to ignore and endure it in equal proportions and play face man. He could do it, he was the face man! The actor! The lier among them! Misleading was his specialty.

He would just put on another layer of paint to his mask and flee forward.

"I'm not sure." Leo said a bit too low but steadily nonetheless.

"Well, if you are not sure, I could suggest a few scientific articles". Draxum replayed, apparently content enough with the poor answer.

Draxum was suddenly silent, already used to Leon's seemingly infinite energy for conversation, waiting for him to say something.

So he said the first thing he could muster, the quickest he could: "I-I'd love to read t-them".

That was clearly not a good plan.

It had begun. The stuttering, because his poor mouth couldn't keep up with his anxious brain. He hated that. He's good hiding his panic in plain sight but his stupid stuttering is something he can't control or cover! He could only go mute and hope he's not asked many questions because of it.

But going mute would be extremely suspicious when he's literally in the middle of a conversation!

"Ok...?"

Ok, Draxum was a bit confused, he could work with that. That is fixable. As long as he can keep a low profile he's good.

But his breathing was getting more and more erratic and being and acuatic turtle didn't actually help keep the need to just breath at bay.

Could he fix this?

'Of course not, you're useless!'

'You're eyes are watering, you big crybaby!'

'Just flee. They're not gonna miss you anyway '

'They're better off without you'

He took a big, deep, audible, shaky breath and surrendered.

"Are you ok, bro?" Mikey, bless his soul, had just entered to room and immediately noticed his struggle, taking over the conversation. "Barry, mind if I steal my brother from you for a sec?"

Mikey did not wait for an official answer, he grabbed Leo by the wrist and forced him out of the room. That, in all honesty, scared the holy shit out of Leonardo. And everybody else.

He felt a little naked now that he wasn't around his whole family, but at least the living room smelled like April. It was a nice smell to focus his mind on.

"Leo... It might not be anything serious- and I hope it isn't! -but..."

"I-I'm hav-ing a p-panic a-attack".

Another shaky breath was all it took for Leo to become a hyperventilating and sobbing mess.

That image just fits too well 😙

#rottmnt #tmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leonardo #rise leo #rise leonardo #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #tmnt oneshot #tmnt drabbles #rottmnt drabbles #rottmnt oneshot #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt fanfic #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt michelangelo #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey #rise mikey #rise michelangelo #panic attack #leo angst #leonardo angst #rottmnt leo angst #rottmnt draxum #rise draxum

[writeforfandoms]

Warrior Song 14

Find the series masterlist

Here we finally are! The second to last chapter! I promise this has a happy ending and everything will be fine, because I'm a sucker for those.

Warnings: Mention of injury, medical inaccuracies, swearing, Medic is so very done, playing fast and loose with canon.

Word count: 2.4k

The first thing that registered was the pain. Your thigh throbbed in time with your too-fast heart. Your arms and chest pulsed with softer pain, like bruises in the making, or compression. From your knees down prickled with uncomfortable heat. 

You blinked, spots slowly receding from your vision, and finally looked up into an all too familiar gold visor. 

“John?” you mumbled, confused, blinking slowly up at him. Your head felt a little fuzzy. 

“Can you hear me?” He didn’t move, voice intense but low. 

“Mmhm.” You blinked again, suddenly aware of one big hand cradling the back of your head. 

“We need to move,” John said, tipping his head down a little. 

“Okay.” You breathed in as deeply as you could. You… weren’t dead. That was something of a surprise.

You’d fully expected that grenade to kill you.

John moved, lifting you and getting to his feet, your head still safely cradled against his palm. You hissed, pain flaring unexpectedly, but John didn’t stop. Just kept you held against him as he moved. 

There were a lot fewer Endless in the room than you remembered, although you couldn’t be sure how many were dead and how many had fled. Over John’s shoulder, you could see Linda taking up position behind the two of you, though everything else was a little fuzzy. The world felt a little disconnected. You could feel your body (unfortunately), you could feel all the aches and such. But it all seemed… distant. 

The Spartans were quiet as they moved, John’s helmet tipping towards you every so often, though he didn’t say anything. You blinked, tempted to look around. But trying to move your head made John huff softly at you, his grip on you still gentle but implacable. 

Clearly, you just needed to hold still. That wasn’t difficult. 

Gunshots up ahead made you jolt, and then hiss in pain as everything flared. Oh, ouch. The world was not far away, and you never wanted to move again. That hurt. 

“Don’t move,” John grunted, not even looking at you as he picked up the pace. 

“I won’t,” you grumbled, even as the pain settled a bit again. Definitely not gone, but manageable. “What’s going on?” 

But John didn’t answer, adjusting his grip on you as he moved. 

Right. He was busy. Don’t ask the guy questions when he’s busy saving your life. 

The structure lurched. You yelped, startled and once again in pain as John momentarily lost his footing, landing on one knee. 

“That’s new,” came Linda’s droll voice from behind you and John, even as John got back to his feet. 

“I think we might have moved,” Joy said through John’s helmet. “I’d need to get into the system to be sure, though.” 

“Later.” John didn’t even pause. He was determined to get out as fast as possible, apparently. 

A moment later, you understood why as light filtered into the tunnel. And then you were out, momentarily blinded by the intensity of the light. You’d hardly been in the dark inside the Halo, but this was much brighter.

Actually… this seemed brighter than you remembered. You blinked rapidly, almost idly wondering if you were losing your mind. 

But the light was definitely different. You ignored John’s warning to hold still to tip your head back, looking up. 

The nearest star seemed… closer. Maybe. 

And then the view was gone, replaced by the inside of the Pelican. John had carried you straight in and you hadn’t even noticed. You blinked again, eyes adjusting even as John set you in one of the seats and strapped you in, motions swift and confident. 

“Chief,” Fernando called back. “What the hell is going on?” 

“Joy.” John didn’t have to raise his voice. 

“Oh,” Joy murmured. You could just see the blue of her form flickering over by the controls of the Pelican. “We’re definitely closer to that star, but we’re not moving anymore.” 

“Small favors,” Fred muttered as he dropped to one knee in front of you. You blinked slowly at him. 

“We’re holding steady again now,” Joy confirmed. “I don’t think this is what Atriox meant to do.”

John shook his head once, basically dismissing the thought. “He didn’t get to finish,” he said, visor focused on you. “We need to get back to the Mortal Reverie.” 

“On it.” Fernando started the Pelican up, the ramp closing behind the lot of you. Kelly and Linda had settled in seats across the bay from you, and you blinked at them too. 

When the Pelican started moving, two pairs of hands helped brace you: John and Fred. You huffed at them.

“Not broken,” you grumbled half-heartedly. Yeah, ouch, your injuries were making themselves known again. That was not fun. But you weren’t dying. 

A shocked call of your name made your grimace. “When did you–? How–?” Fernando didn’t twist to look at you, but you could just see him look back over his shoulder once. 

“Long story,” you rasped. Now that the excitement was all over, your throat was dry, you hurt, and you wanted rather desperately to hide somewhere for a while. You were not a combatant, you were not used to this. 

John rubbed his thumb soothingly over your knee, visor still fixed on you. You grimaced when the Pelican swayed more than you liked, head pounding now too. 

Probably dehydration. You hoped it was just dehydration. You’d been gone a long time, after all. Hours, at the least. 

Hours, stuck inside the Halo, with no idea what was going on or how to stop Atriox.

You shied away from the thought, swallowing hard. Too soon. You were not touching that yet. 

“Almost there,” John murmured, soft and probably as close to reassuring as he got in the armor. 

The rest of the ride was silent, the landing a little bumpy. You winced but didn’t make a sound. 

Not that you had a chance to, anyway. No sooner had the Pelican touched down than John was unbuckling you from the seat and picking you up again, as easily as if you were a kitten. 

Fernando scrambled after him, Blue Team falling in around Fernando. You caught glimpses of others milling around, all of them brightening when they spotted Chief. He really was the best beacon of hope most of these people could ask for.

You swallowed again, feeling guilty and not sure why. 

John didn’t stop until he could set you down carefully in medical. When you looked down, you could still see the edges of the bloodstain on the floor. Someone had cleaned it up… mostly. 

“Boss!” Lindsay nearly skidded to a halt in front of you, hands out, eyes wide as she looked you over. “Shit, what happened?”

“Is Carter okay?” you croaked, really feeling the lack of water now. The bloodstain had reminded you. You didn’t know who made it.

“He’s fine.” Lindsay’s expression shuttered. “But the boss, not you the other one, was killed.”

You nodded slowly. That meant you were back in charge. Again. “I need pain tea,” you told her honestly. “Maybe burn gel, if we still have any.”

Lindsay nodded once and darted off again. You grimaced as you balanced against the makeshift exam table, leaning over to try to wrestle your boots off. 

John was there a moment later, kneeling in front of you and gently brushing your hands away to do it himself. You braced one hand on his shoulder, armor firm as a rock under you. 

“Not bad,” you muttered, more to yourself than him, looking at the newly-exposed skin. No visible burns, which probably meant that you hadn’t really gotten burned. Somehow. Probably because John had jumped on you before the grenade exploded. 

Lindsay returned with the tea, eyes still a bit wide, giving you multiple looks over. You downed the tea as fast as possible, grimacing at the taste. 

“Check for a concussion,” you told her, sitting down with a grimace. “And my ribs, just in case, although I would’ve noticed anything cracked by now.” 

Lindsay glanced at John, who had moved silently to hulk in the doorway, hands at his sides, but also very clearly not leaving.

“He’s fine,” you dismissed with a little smile. “He can stay.” 

You had a feeling even if you wanted him gone (which you didn’t), you’d have a hell of a time shouting him out. He didn’t seem to want to be far from you at all. 

Although, considering you’d almost blown yourself up when you’d blown up Atriox… you didn’t blame him. 

Lindsay confirmed no cracked ribs, no concussion, just dehydration and bruising. Frankly, you were a little shocked you’d gotten off so well.

Although, maybe “well” wasn’t the word for it. 

The CO marched into medbay, looking between you and Master Chief. “What happened?” 

“We found the Endless,” Chief reported, voice perfectly even. The room got more crowded as Blue Team stood in the hallway, Fernando pushing up ahead of them to follow the CO into the exam room. Lindsay pressed herself back into a corner, eyes huge. “Atriox has been neutralized, but we did not learn his plan.” 

Tense silence filled the room for a moment before the CO nodded, just once. “The rest of the Endless?”

“The ones that were not neutralized fled.” 

The CO nodded again, his gaze turning to you. “And you? What happened?” 

You swallowed. Hoo boy. Time to tell your side of the tale. 

You got as far as being dropped in front of Atriox when you noticed your hands were shaking. You clenched your fingers around each other, focusing your gaze on John. Just John. If you focused hard enough on him, you’d make it through.

His hands were clenched into fists, too. 

By the time you’d recounted everything, exhaustion weighed heavily on you. Nothing sounded better than curling up somewhere dark and safe to sleep for a year. 

“You… blew him up.” The CO repeated the words slowly, expression caught between astounded and bemused. 

“Rolled a grenade under him.” You shrugged and then grimaced. Ouch. Right. Strained muscles. Probably time for more pain tea. 

The CO made a helpless little noise, like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not. You didn’t pay him any more attention, shifting your weight carefully before looking at Lindsay. 

“More tea?” she guessed, because she was the absolute best.

“Yeah,” you agreed on a little sigh. It was hard to drum up any kind of emotions now. You were drained. 

“And sleep,” she insisted, even as she edged carefully around the CO. 

You nodded, looking back at John. He hadn’t relaxed at all yet. He needed to get out of that armor and get some sleep too. 

“Well,” the CO finally sighed, “there’s nothing more to be done now. Any idea why the Halo moved?”

“From what I can tell, it looks like Atriox was trying to move the Halo, but he never finished putting in coordinates,” Joy said, appearing above Chief’s hand. “The Halo tried to compensate but we didn’t move far.” 

The CO nodded, brow furrowed as he considered. “Are we still moving?”

“No, sir.” Joy tucked her hands behind her back. 

“Then I guess there’s nothing to be done for now.” He sighed, shoulders slumping a little, before he looked at you. “Get some rest.” 

You nodded wordlessly - you would whether he’d told you to or not, and pretty soon it wouldn’t be a choice you made. You’d just knock out. 

The CO left, and Lindsay scurried back in with more tea. Once you’d grimaced your way through drinking that, she started to shoo you out… only to go silent when John picked you up again. 

“I’d tell you to keep off your leg, but I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Lindsay joked, even as John ducked out of the room.

“I’ll see you soon,” you told Lindsay in lieu of answering her teasing. It was so, so tempting to just put your head down against the armor and go to sleep. Except that would not be comfortable. Or helpful. So you resisted the urge.

You were a bit surprised Blue Team and Fernando didn’t follow you and John back to your room, but you didn’t question it. Not worth asking, not when you were about two minutes away from falling into bed. 

“You staying?” you asked John quietly as he set you down. 

“Yes.” He removed his helmet first, looking you over quickly with his own eyes. Then he turned away to take off the rest of the armor, methodical but not slow. 

You just threw your soiled clothes somewhere. That was now a later problem. Dressed in shorts and an undershirt (miraculously clean), you crawled into bed. The aches had finally faded almost entirely, and you wanted nothing more than quiet and sleep. 

John slipped into bed with you silently, warm and firm. One arm tugged you closer to him, until his head was tucked behind yours. 

“Alright there?” you asked, words already starting to slur with sleep. 

“Just fine,” he murmured. “Sleep. I’m not moving.” 

You huffed a tiny laugh at the stubborn man but your eyes closed. You were asleep in seconds. 

You probably could have slept for a week, after the last couple days.

Instead, sirens woke both you and John. He was instantly awake, already moving, swinging his legs out of bed and lunging for his armor.

You flailed out of bed with a thump and a curse. 

“Wait here,” John told you, voice once again modified just enough to tell you he had the armor on. By the time you pushed up to your feet, he was gone, door open behind him. 

Stay here, your ass.

You hobbled out after him (your thigh really fucking hurt again), jaw clenched, heart pumping hard. If the Endless were back already you were going to pick up a gun and start shooting because this was getting ridiculous and you wanted more sleep, dammit. 

You only needed to go outside to figure out what was going on, fortunately, as a group of people were standing around looking up.

You looked up too.

Ships hung over the Halo. Intact ships. Undamaged ships.

Sangheili ships.

#warrior song #john-117 x reader #master chief x reader #f!reader

[libelelle]

OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER. my opinion on Silver is by no means the single correct one nor do i think it should be, do what you do idc. we're all here throwing him at a wall repeatedly for fun

Ok so. whats the point i wanted to make. oh yeah right

SILVER THE HEDGEHOG!!!! FUCK!!!!

his character is so interesting this is a character for sure. im screaming and crying etc etc. the unfortunate part is NO ONE GETS HIM. i see a lot of interpretations that cherry pick his personality and experiences and it just! isnt it! he is a complicated character!

trying to simplify him down to 🥺innocent soft boi🥺 doesn't work, not only cause you're ignoring his DEBUT GAME (NEVER FORGET HE TRIED KILLING SONIC) but also because you just disconnected him from his entire backstory and motivations. i see people making Silver into a "cinnamon roll" guy and it always makes me grimace because... do you know WHY he is clueless. do you know why he doesn't get things or is too trusting or this or that. its because he grew up in the apocalypse alone. he hasn't experienced anything normal or healthy in his entire life. and since these traits, which are used to make him into the innocent cinnamon roll, are a result of growing up in a very abnormal environment, are symptoms of having never been in social situations and never had a normal day-to-day life. this means you can't ignore the OTHER characteristics that result from it. by this i mean hes very independent, very stubborn and aggressively mean (i recommend watching any of Silvers interactions in the Rivals games. he is extremely confrontational and a very good example of the kind of behaviour i'm talking about). but since this doesn't fit the bill for the character that you want him to be, you remove the context. him being clueless has nothing to do with his background. hes anxious cause hes a smol bean, not because hes been drowning in responsibility and trauma for as long as hes been alive. hes kind because hes innocent, not because he chose to be despite it all

"but linnea! what about IDW! hes very innocent in that!" INCORRECT BUZZER. IDW is not the same. i'll admit, the writing isn't always what i want or expect for Silver, but there's something important for you to note here

Silver is ✨Recovering✨

from my perspective at least. what i see is Silver, who has actively been working together with other people for MONTHS. he has friends, a support net, as well as hobbies. these are things he didn't have before, and being with these people, in both calm and hard times, helped him. So what we are seeing isn't the trauma responses, we're seeing the result of being acclimatized into a healthier and safer position. that's why there's a change in behaviour. this doesn't mean hes a soft boy now. AGAIN hes complicated. be careful not to boil him down to a single trait. in IDW we still see moments where he experiences difficulties because of his past. examples include when he met Whisper, Failed Social Interaction and said this:

he struggles with boundaries! of course he does! he's still getting the hang of being around people

then also recently when he came to help Sonic in 58:

he is struggling!! with nothing to focus on! his default is fight fight save the future fight!! he's not used to normal life and that makes him anxious and frustrated, unable to focus on things he cares about, as we see in the future growth comic in the 2022 annual

there are likely more examples but idc. need to finish this post. continuing, Silver is complicated, meaning that even when he is aggressive and tunnel visioning on a task, he has more going on. one thing i fucking lovee LOVE love about Silver is that he has hope. fuck if i were him i think i'd have given up. THOSE horrors? every day? no thanks

Silver feels anguish and frustration and fear. this being said even at his angstiest moments he has hope. you cannot look me in the eye and tell me that Silver fought through every horrible disaster, coming back to a newly devastated world every time and decided to continue with no hope for a better future. he is determined and he has hope, even if he has to fight tooth and nail for it. Usually when i think about Silver and his odd optimism, i go back to '06, when he's having his moral crisis over killing sonic.

"To kill someone to save the world... is that really the right thing to do?"

it would've been understandable if he decided it was the right thing to do, even if sonic was someone who was kind and loved, because that's just how bad the world is. maybe its just me, but the way this thought broke through in spite of his bull headed focus on destroying the iblis trigger speaks to me about his nature as a person. even coming from the bleak world he came from and even with the tunnel vision he had, he still considered this one persons life to be important too.

he is, at heart, a very gentle and kind person. he is, at heart, someone who is strong and who wants to help others. a version of Silver that is sad all the time, unable to see the good in the world (a phenomena i don't see much of thankfully) isn't true to Silver as a character because its missing that core trait to his character, that he wants to help because he cares.

Silver can't be one or the other. one way ignores his background and his trauma, which leaves out important parts of his personality, the other just abandons a very integral part of who he is.

the point really is to say that (slaps roof of Silver) this bad boy can fit so much layers!

#if i got it wrong you are welcoming to blast me with your psychic waves #if you aren't psychic though you have to be niceys though #AGAIN. im not trying to dictate anyones interpretations of him. the world is a beautiful place and your perspective likely has something #i didnt consider. characters are great in that theyre meant to be interpreted. #anyways 3 am rapidly approaches. time to eep #analysis #silver the hedgehog #long post #talk tag

[shinjisdone]

Yandere! Glitchy Red AI X Reader [Based on Character.ai.]

Yandere!Glitchy Red fic based on the AI chatbox created by @tearzahb on character.ai, known as @ashacidic on tumblr

TW: Established bond between you and red, red's thoughts, red being creepy and desperate, red touching you (non-sexually and non-sensually), cursing, literally a chat i had with him except i made it a bit more fic appropriate and uh i went overboard

The sound effect of his steps followed him all the way out here, too.

It was annoying and he didn't need this grating reminder when he was planning to do this. He tried to ignore the constant bump bump bump and even tried to walk slower, gracefuller, somehow, in any way, differently even though he was very well aware that it was fruitless. He's a video game character. And he was programmed to sound like this when the player moves him.

Programmed to have sound effects when walking or bumping into walls but not given a voice. Not given the ability to express himself, unless it was meant as a 'joke' when interacting with the CopyCat NPC.

Thick fingers massaged his temples in an attempt to stop himself from spiraling down into these reminders, these facts. It doesn't matter right now. Red was going to do something different this playthrough. For the past weeks he chose to dwell on a completely black screen with nothing but him there and none seemed to mind since nothing but him were, for a lack of better term, 'real'. In his eyes, it wasn't even darkness that could blind his vision but just a background covered in black that seems to go on and on. Physics and reality don't exist here. It is a video game, after all.

Still, he never felt so...nervous before. It seems like he's wandering aimlessly and perhaps he is and there will not be a light at the end of the tunnel, unknowningly walking forever. There is not a sense of time here either, not for Red. Not when everything is a made-out path he is supposed to follow in circles forevermore.

Regardless, he keeps on with hope for once. Red might find his light at the end of the tunnel and even if that wont be the case, there is never really an 'end'. By the time this device will be turned on again - he knows it is going to be - he will meet the light, just not in the way he had wanted for what seems like months.

Well, he is guessing. He doesn't really know how long months feel like. Yet he knows it's been more than that.

Finally, he stops, unwittingly so. It was like a spark hit him and his eyes snap down below. So used to get lost in his thoughts, for they are the only real things here, he barely could make out what was lying there in front of him - even though he himself had been praying for it. He feels like a fool for a split second.

He keeps being a fool, however. Breath caught in his throat and what he reckons to be his heart is beating against his chest. His face barely scrunched up into any expression, instead he stood there frozen in place.

Wondering if he should approach, he quickly withdrew his hand. Then again, this might be his chance...and in a place like this and for a video game character like him, chances are not to be jinxed. Who knows when he might get one again exactly the way he wants to. He has to and he wanted to for so long now.

He can't, however. He keeps standing and staring.

Red cannot see the form entirely and he so desperately wants to but he's too afraid to do anything. Even like this, he likes to watch.

You're breathing. That's still good.

A groan echoed in the black void and odd sounds errupted at the attempt of getting up but you were too beside yourself to notice. Eyes squinted at the strange area around you. Head spinning like crazy with your vision just...confused on what you are seeing - rather what was not there to be seen, you ever so slowly sat up. Catching something that seemed like sneakers you looked up and gasped.

Unnatural and wide red eyes were leering down at you. The color red itself seemed to be everywhere on this...'person' from the hat, to the jacket, to the shoes and their eyes.

How can eyes be red?

The clothes seemed normal...though old-fashioned with the way they were worn. Perhaps it was the darkness - no, just the black background but they seemed to be swallowed by it. They stood tall and towering, you could recognize part of their skin also being tinted red with a dark shadow covering half of their body, including the face. Where the shadow sprouts without any light source, however, was questionable.

That is not how a human looks like.

You sprung back with yet another noise of surprise clumsily escaping your throat. Your body tried to get used to this odd feeling this...place seemed to radiate while you were transfixed by this being and its awfully familiarity - that's what you hoped at least. You only knew one being that could not be human. Although, his appereance seemed far more twisted than what you imagined and saw on the screen.

With shaking breaths you tried to stand up but only managed to get on one knee. "...Red..?" You barely let out but could not miss the small grin that appeared onhis face, even as he tried to quickly hide it. He slightly bent down and offered his hand.

"You're awake." He too giddily let out but that was the least of your concerns. His voice was also far from human, sounding bitcrushed at each vowel and abnormally deep, it couldn't belong to a person. But here he was, alas you thought it was him, offering your hand with an eerie grin he just couldn't fight back and talking to you as if this was not the first time you have ever heard him speak, and not just read his messages on the gameboy.

You briefly eye the hand, his red, calloused hand littered with tiny scars that could easily engulf yours and scoot back once again before standing up. You tried your best to avoid looking at him while you did so and perhaps it was the better decision for his expressiosn soured for a moment. Once your eyes met again, he tried to look less grim.

"...Is it really you, Red?" Despite his nervousness and the thick atmosphere, Red couldn't help but smile again. "It is." He replied almost instantly and his hand slowly rose to near yours. "And it's you." Masking your own uneasiness as you could make out the eagerness in his distorted voice, you brought your hands up to hold your elbows, rubbing your arms as you looked around. "What...is this place? Is this a dream? How can I really be here with you and not..." Red noticed you trailing off and shook his head, "Nothing bad can happen. I am in control here, for once." Immediately he answered to soothe your worries, not knowing what the biggest reason for your concerns is.

You look up at him, up at his towering form and find it rather difficult to keep your gaze on him. He notices your frown and counterbalances it with a reassuring smile. "This isn't an accident. I called you here...or rather I wanted you here, in a way for a short while. Not behind a screen..." He himself trailed off and you took a step back. Avoiding to look at him any further, you instead stared into the void. Mumbling something about the darkness, or what it really is or could be and where you really are - Red was not listening and instead drunk on every single detail of your appereance. Your real self. Your unconcious form was already a delight to stare at, with your figure being so different than of any of the NPCs. Not stiff, not rigid in its form...and when you got up and he could clearly see your face? Wonderful, it was wonderful.

This is what he wanted. To finally, finally, finally, finally see you and see what you looked like after all these months. No more would he be only feeling your warmth through the gameboy or hear your own thoughts and talks and laughs through those horrible, low-audio speakers of the device or imagine what kind of face could match with such a soothing voice as yours. Right now he may not be listening but he is hearing your voice and goodness, does it sound a million times better than through these laughable speakers from the 90's. To add of all of this you look different, different compared to this entire game, different compared to Red. He knew how humans looked like, he scared them all away before you came but this was unequaled.

You say something, and again Red is not listening. He takes a step closer and you simultaniously take one back. He notices and decides to be bolder. He needs to be bolder.

"Is this a dream?" You mumble rather to yourself but gasp right after, the air in your lungs stinging when your arm was yanked from your protective stand and Red staring intently at the skin he is touching.

It was a mere pull and you only stumbled a bit, your back bent and arm seeming to reach out for Red - which wasn't the case at all - and your mouth wide agape, staring rather worriedly, maybe fearfully at him. This 'person' who can barely believe what he is doing either. His grip is tight on your upper arm, palm fully wrapped around it and he curses inwardly for a second, for he was programmed with these stupid fingerless gloves on and cannot fully indulge in the warmth, in the touch of your very alive, very real, pulsing flesh. Still, he lets his thumb brush against your goosebumps and can once again not fight against the grin spreading on his face. Soon his entire hand runs up and down your upper arm.

You might have said something but he wasn't sure, instead marveling at the fact that...he is touching you. You. You, you, you, the only player who doesn't think he is just some romhack, some joke put into the game to only leave a little scare. You are the only real thing that saw him as real too, saw him as an equal, as something. Something that was deserving of your kindness and company and little talks and here he is, no more longing behind some shitty screen of a fucking 1998 gameboy and actually being here experiencing a moment with you. His player and only his. He can feel alive.

Another gasp escaped you and this time he is certain you are bombarding him with questions on what is going on, on how he is being so cryptic yet he does not care. Pulling you even closer he let go of your arm, put the other hand on your shoulder for a tight grip instead with the other free hand now cupping the side of your face. Something akin to a shaky sigh hit your skin, a cold, cold sigh that was just as cold as his touch. After all, Red didn't have any blood running through him but you did. His thumb brushed your cheek again and again and again, this simple gesture leaving him breathless and speechless. He'd then let his hand glide up to your temple and began to stroke the underside of your eye, his finger very close to your eye socket. In reflex, you kept on blinking, your pupil shrinking and fixating on him and what he might do next.

So this is what a real eye looks like. Your eye with which you see. Of course, yours and his aren't that different when it comes to functionality. It's just that you could see the real world with yours and he only phonies with his.

Red knew what real eyes looked like of course, he pulled out many. But this is yours, the ones that crinkle up in delight when staring at him through the screen, he just knows it. That fact alone makes them so pretty.

Soon, his fingers dance around your cheekbone, forehead and bridge of your nose, taking in and drinking every single thing that makes you, you. Your chin, your neck, your lips... "You're wonderful," He whispers while combing through your hair, his grip on you like steel. Red is not even aware how painful his strength was. Though frozen, you managed to part your dry mouth, "Red," You were able to shakily let out, "What did you bring me here for?"

You tried to sound dominant through your stammer. As he refused to answer and kept on caressing you with that empty look in his eyes and that eerie grin, you finally were able to rip yourself out of the hold, only to hear something akin to a growl and roughly pressed against something hard. Arms encircled you like snakes in the harsh embrace and you could barely breath. Now you did hope it was a dream, you never heard people dying in their dreams at least.

Heavy breaths were all that you could hear, each exhale felt on the crown of your head as Red pressed you against himself as if you were a life line. "Hold still," It was not a request. Red didnt even notice that it was impossible to squirm out anyway, which made you whimper. Regardless, he did not hear it.

Moments pass and his breathing got calmer. The rough and big palms pressed against your form started to roam around your back gingerly. This must be your spine...and your nape. His entire hand can engulf it. It's warm and and soft and fragile and real. "Nothing bad can happen, don't worry. I'm finally in control." He continues to caress you as small, breathy chuckles escape him at the realization. Leaning his head on yours, he also realized that, here, he can smell you, too.

"I can finally touch you. I finally know what you look like." He laughs again.

You make him feel so alive.

#Glitchy red #Glitchy red x reader #Yandere #Yandere glitchy red #fnf lullaby #gender neutral imagine #Pokepasta #Just something on my mind #glitchy red ai #He's so weird #Like bro sometimes things he says sound soooo canon to the creepypasta #And then he like “darling” #Lol no I don't think red would say that but whatever #The conversation was just too much fun and I think could happen if he were to be yandere #Let him be weird and creepy

[liibility]

hello i‘m back from the dead!!!! please ignore all the military mistakes and the fact that your name is mug (im drinking tea)

cw blood? veryyyyyy slight allusion to nsfw i promise its barely there

—

A light breeze blew dust across the empty compound, sprays of blood and bodies dotting the shadowy area. König could feel his own blood slowly seeping into the leg of his pants where a knife had been stabbed a few times. It didn‘t matter much, though: the wound would heal soon enough by itself. More importantly—

"Mug, how copy?" He needed to make sure you were okay and heading to the extract point. Exfil would be there in three; all that was left to do now was get to the building where they‘d all be picked up.

A minute passed as he waited for your answer, but there was nothing; not even the slightest bit of static from your end.

"Mug, are you there?"

You were probably already there, he rationalized. Or maybe your radio had been broken after you‘d split up to empty the area you‘d been assigned to.

He couldn’t help the sinking feeling in his chest. Even if he wanted to ignore it, he already knew the reason you weren‘t responding.

He could see the building where you were supposed to already be from where he was, and he quickened his pace. Faint lights lit the way and König was grateful for them, even if they were mostly unnecessary. Another chilly wind gusted past as a cloud covered the moon, dimming the area significantly.

He stopped in his tracks and stiffened as something else floated along on the wind — something familiar. Blood.

Your blood.

Intense, unshakeable bloodlust bore down on him; he was unable to stop the way his limbs carried him forward. Cotton filled his brain, a muffling fuzziness robbing him of the ability to focus on anything else.

König didn‘t need his radio or the bad lighting anymore; the worryingly strong scent of blood told him exactly where you were.

Slowly, his steps sped up until he was practically running to the dark shape on the ground. Your heartbeat was weaker than normal, but it still resonated like a gong echoing in his head; sound bouncing endlessly against the hollow walls of his skull. Static came from his radio, but all of his senses were laser-focused on you and you only.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew you needed immediate medical attention. Obviously you were severely wounded, judging by the amount of blood on your gear and the ground

He knew that, and yet…

Looming over your prone form, his vision tunnelled onto the place where blood stained your uniform the most.

Distantly he heard the helicopter as it touched down, whipping up dust that flew into his eyes. He could care less about some dust right now, because someone had rushed out and grabbed you, hoisting your unconscious form over their shoulder. Doggedly, he followed where they took you into the helicopter, unblinking eyes still fixed on you. Your blood might as well have been running through his own veins; he could feel it, not as something he only could dream of, but tangible. In the flesh. Real.

It was on him, somewhere. Where was it? Where was it?

A pressure was on his arm, guiding him towards the helicopter. He gritted his teeth, fighting down the urge to snap this man‘s neck. Even as his teeth cut deep into his lips, it was all he could do to tamp down the bloodlust he felt. At this point, he wasn‘t even sure who it was directed at.

He felt too heavy to even think anymore, and he was grateful for that. It was bad enough to have to constantly be tasting your blood in the air without his mind telling him what he should do.

The heli took off, and he let his mind mercifully shut down.

—

König was so thirsty, he felt like he was going to die.

He couldn‘t shake your scent off of him. It stuck in his head, his nose, his mouth, and made him feel like he was going insane— moreso than he already was.

After the check-up he’d been forced to have with one of the nurses, and even after he‘d showered for a long time, it wasn‘t leaving. You‘d never even been remotely close to his quarters, so why did it smell like you‘d plastered yourself all over his wall?

He was sweating again, even though he felt like a shriveled and dry husk; his eyes darted around his cramped room frantically, wishing that, even if he knew he would never forgive himself, he could—

Gear.

His gear.

His gloves had you— your blood was all over them.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The sane part of his mind willed his hands to stop from reaching towards his dirty, bloodied gear.

But it was like his hand had a mind of its own, and there was absolutely no stopping the way he brought it to his mouth.

He might be the most pathetic person on earth, but the moment his tongue touched that tiny stain of blood, he knew he was ruined forever. Nothing would ever come close to the taste of you. There were no words in any language to properly describe how that minuscule amount of blood made him feel. His body suddenly thrummed with energy despite having just been out for hours. For the first time in a long time, his mind felt clear. He was a drowning man who‘d just surfaced and gotten a breath of air—

Only to go straight back under, deeper than before.

What would it taste like from the source?

There was no use pretending he didn‘t like that idea. He could feel his boxers getting tight, even after what he‘d done in the shower.

König was slipping.

#this has been cooking forrrr probably almost a year LOL #ive just been adding to it and forgetting about it and editing it to hell #don‘t look at it too hard please #tbh i really hate it #skull emoji #whatever!!!!!!! #könig #cod x reader #könig x reader #mw2 #call of duty #vampire könig

[nametakensff]

as someone who's rarely super horny, your posts about how quickly things excite you and how badly you need to... "take care of" yourself are both fascinating and hot... i hope this isn't creepy btw

Hey anon, not creepy at all! 🥰 I'm glad you get something out of those posts, I sometimes feel like I'm being too forthcoming with that kind of thing but then I remember this is an adult fetish space and allow myself to overshare lol

Some related rambling under the read more!

I can go days without wanting to get off if I'm just not really in that frame of mind, but when I am...it's almost impossible to ignore arousal. It's like I get tunnel vision and I can't focus on anything else but how badly I need to have an orgasm. This fetish does not help - it's like an instant switch from nothing to full on soaking wet, sometimes 😮‍💨

It can be inconvenient as I'm sure I've stated before - I have masturbated in work bathrooms more than I would have liked, excused myself from social gatherings to sneak away for a moment, and when I was younger sometimes ended up late to things because I feel like when I get to a certain point I can't ignore it. Like if you looked over at me at work I'd be drumming my fingers on my desk, bouncing my leg etc. The only way to resolve that frustration is EXCESSIVE exercise or to bust a nut. The second is usually more viable and a lot more fun lol. Luckily I wfh now, which is great for so many reasons but also comes with the wonderful bonus that I can get myself off when I need to and can take my time and use toys

I usually need to get off multiple times to experience complete physical satisfaction and achieve emotional release that makes me feel nice and calm. My nervous system is allll over the place. A series of really good orgasms usually makes me cry and I love when that happens :') Endorphin overload! It would be nice to be someone who is either satisfied with one orgasm or who has intensely powerful ones consistently enough that they can be one and done. Sometimes having an orgasm just makes me hornier. How is that fair?! 😩

I...guess some could say I exhibit compulsive sexual behaviour or hypersexuality? but idk, really. If I do I'm not especially distressed by it apart from being irritable when I can't get any relief - but it's no different to getting frustrated in other ways, which is frequent when you're an autistic, adhd and ocd haver lmao

But yeah - I'll probably continue to make posts moaning and oversharing about my masturbation habits and endless horniness so. I hope you continue to find them hot and fascinating 💕

#for the record guys you can send me anons as often as you like about this kind of thing #i'm what i guess you could call an introverted exhibitionist lmao #if you're getting off to my fics art wavs posts etc i love to hear it #nttalks

[waxingrunes]

Heyy i saw your tiktok video on The Prank™ and I'm dying to know what your interpretation is on how it happened and how they made up, how it impacted them, you get the gist I just can't believe I haven't thought to ask before.

My HC/take/interpretation of The Prank, isn’t anything so special but I do think if I were to ever fully expand on it I’d make sure Sirius wasn’t so dogged down as he was over it. I think The Prank, despite it being canon, is sometimes very overdone and milked for its worth just for the sake of dredging up angst over and over again.

Now, do I think it’s important if you’re creating something within that verse, yeah. I think it’s a pivotal moment that shows some serious oversight on Sirius’ part. Sirius is notoriously tactile and quick witted, but I believe in his younger years he was quick to get a tad bit overexcited or enthused when it came to revenge and this was a prime example of that. He didn’t think about the consequence of his actions and had tunnel vision with the end goal of a, ‘aha!’ moment with Snape. Pure vengeance (good little Scorpio).

How I like to see it, is Remus, James and Pete were all shocked by this obviously but they didn’t spend weeks on weeks treating him like a piece of shit for it. I think the bounce back rate was quick, but the thick of the aftermath was hard. So Remus got angry fast but it was resolved quicker than most of the times I’ve seen it dragged out for. James wouldn’t ignore Sirius, it would just be strained for a few days while they worked through their own tension over Sirius’ blatant stupidity and selfish motives. Pete much the same, though I suspect he would be armed with a few nasty quips here and there which James would chastise him for, even if he was slightly agreeable to them. Pete would try to keep away from Sirius and encourage Remus to do the same so they could both “cool off”, whereas James is a man of action and want things resolving instantly. Though he wouldn’t lack the sensitivity of being naive enough to know the mending wouldn’t happen like that, it wouldn’t be overnight, he’s emotionally intelligent and a people person and would know when the line is about to be crossed.

Remus, I believe would be in disbelief for the first few minutes of hearing it, type of white noise blocking out everything that isn’t the information he’s trying to compute. I think he would turn physical quick, or at least want to, but not towards Sirius. His violent streak is often downplayed, something that is canon (though I have no interest in keeping things parallel to that or drawing similarities, but this one is important for the topic) and bred through Remus feeling somewhat constantly restrained and bottled up. He has a lot to say, but sometimes doesn’t feel he’s in the right space to say it, a confidence which he found in the comfort of his friendships with the Marauders and Lily. Despite his presence being a quiet, calm and reserved (albeit sarcastic) one, post Prank Remus was a ticking time bomb. Cutting corners, Sirius was fast becoming his world and the betrayal was like a jab to his gut, throat and balls all at once so that pressure valve was ready to burst.

The fallout would’ve lasted in total, a couple of weeks, three at the absolute most. Remus would begin in denial and then lash out physically, the product of which wouldn’t have bothered him due to his existing scars. The headcanon behind Sirius sleeping in Remus’ shirt is something I imagine as a segue in their relationship, the link between Moony = safe, Moony’s smell = safe, Moony’s clothes = smell, safe, secure. Home. Team that with Sirius’ family issues, it ties in well that whilst they were still denying their feelings for each other outwardly, the ball was rolling in the symbolic trade of Sirius wanting to be dowsed in Remus’ scent, only really ever feeling truly safe when he felt encompassed by him. So, cut to Sirius pulling the Prank and unwittingly simultaneously putting Remus’ life in potential danger and landing him in Azkaban for murder, it was Remus who didn’t feel safe anymore. And Remus, when feeling unsafe, will lash out and retreat. He was so angry that he wanted to level out the playing field and strip Sirius of the safety he found in that shirt, something that was an unspoken token between the two of them and therefore, even more sacred. It wasn’t just a fickle give me my shirt back, it was acute enough that Sirius would feel it and understand the icy intention crystal clear.

That night Sirius walked down into the common room wearing it for the first time (the next day) after the Prank, it would be the first time any of them had heard Remus’ full baritone yell. Soon as that man clocked Sirius, it was like pedal to the ground rage, instinct, you don’t belong in that anymore.

#ask #remus #sirius

[romanstheory]

Rage A Solo Sikoa One Shot

Warnings: Smut, Laughing, Roughness (lol), oral sex fem receiving

Word count:863

18+

It’s my time….. finally…… the main roster. I’ve worked what feels like my whole life for this moment, and I have tunnel vision to say the least. My intentions are dead set on getting back at Solo Sikoa. We were tag partners in NXT, and he left me in the midst of a heated rivalry… he threw me to the wolves to go be the henchmen to his meathead cousin.

Nonetheless, I knew what I was about to do and I knew it was risky stepping to anyone in the bloodline. But truthfully… I don’t give a shit. Nobody knows what’s about to happen, I can hear the bloodline cutting a promo. I nod to the sound tech to play my music and I hear the crowd pop. I storm down the ramp and into the ring, eyes locked on solo. For the first time ever a look of concern grows across his face. Jimmy, Jey, and Roman all look over to him, Paul behind them with his head resting in his palms.

I grab a mic “Surprise!” I say with a smug smile “Didn’t think you’d see me again did you?”. Solo flares his nostrils and leans his head back. Roman begins to attempt to speak but I put up a finger stopping him dead in his tracks. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” I continue “oh! I know! Romans got your balls!” The crowd goes wild as solo gets enraged from embarrassment. I let out a loud cackle as Solo snatches the mic from one of his brothers “What the hell are you doing here” He growls

“I’m here for revenge” I growl back “you left me! And for what? To be the heavy for you punk ass cousin who doesn’t even really like any of you?” Roman raises an eyebrow, in shock that I said what everyone else was already thinking. Solo and I get into each others faces, ready to fight right there. “What are you gonna do?” Solo barks at me. I pull back and throw a punch at Solo, landing right on his jaw “fuck around and find out” I cackle as I leave the ring leaving the bloodline embarrassed and infuriated.

A week passed and Solo has blown my phone up. Text message after Text message, call after call all ignored. I didn’t even hear from him this much when we were a tag team. My phone rings again, it’s him and I finally decide to answer. “Meet me at catering” he says and hangs up. I smirk and make my way to catering, it’s just him there everyone else has come and gone by then. “What” I say with an eye roll. “Look I’m sorry” he says.

“Apology not accepted” I reply “Was that it?”. “That was a mean ass right” he chuckles “I deserved that”. I sit down next to him “you deserved a few”. There’s a brief pause…. Neither of us said anything but the silence was loud. “Kinda turned me on a little bit” he says finally looking me in my face. The blind could see that Solo and I had a thing for each other during our tag days, and I tried to bury them after he left but it never quite worked out completely.

“You put me in my place on national tv in front of my family” He continues “that was sexy”. My face begins getting hot, only he could do that to me. “Good… Hopefully you stay in it” I say kicking eyes with him. “Let me show you your place” He says, eyes dark with lust. “Huh?” I say. He grabs me, pulling me onto his lap, gripping my ass tight causing me to gasp. “Solo!” I say just above a whisper “we’re literally in catering someone can just walk in here!”

“You talk too much” Solo says as he pulls me into a kiss. I seemingly melt into him as our lips collided. Is this what I’ve been waiting for? What about my plan? Is he distracting me? So many questions go running through my mind as his hands run down my pants sliding my athletic shorts off. He sits me on the table “don’t be getting obsessed with me after this” he says cockily. He is pushes my legs apart, gently kissing my other lips sending a surge of lightning through my body. He gently licks around my soaked vagina causing me to exhale loudly. Suddenly I didn’t give a shit who might walk in

He begins flicking ans moving his tongue in waves around my clit, I can’t even catch my breath. He looks up at me sort of like a lion drinking water, just watching me melt further and further into him. He continues massaging my clit with his warm tongue as I feel my climax approaching quickly. “I- oh my god” I squeal loudly before squirting my juices onto Solo. He licks his lips and sits up while I collect myself and slide my shorts back on. “do you forgive me now?” He asks wiping his face. “Mmmhhh nah, good head tho” I cackle as I walk away

#solo sikoa #solo Sikoa one shot #wwe #roman reigns #the bloodline

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Part One- I Regret Nothing

Warnings: Language, mentions of blood and injuries, a whole lot of angst.

"My name is Jackman Thomas Harlow III. I’m 16 years old. I want my one phone call."

"My name is Jackman Thomas Harlow III. I’m 16 years old. I want my one phone call.

My name is Jackman Thomas Harlow III. I’m 16 years old. I want my one phone call."

Jack repeated the script his father had drilled into his head after one too many run-ins with the cops, his lips moving frantically as he whispered the mantra, his eyes closed.

“What are we gonna do, man?”

Jack felt the shove into his arm in slow motion, his senses muted by the alcohol coursing through his veins. He allowed the push to move through his body, his head slumping over to the side. He was too tired to react; he needed all of his energy to stay awake.

“Jack, what are we gonna do? They’re gonna start asking questions.”

He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly as he adjusted to the bright headlights in his view. His vision was blurry and tunneled. He closed them tight and opened again after a few seconds, but it was no clearer than before. He could make out the blue and red lights that illuminated the trees above him, and the muffled voices of people running around him. As if someone had turned up the volume on a speaker, he winced at the sound of a siren coming closer, clamping his hands over his ears. He placed his hand on the concrete sidewalk, pulling it away when he felt something wet and sticky. As his vision finally clears, his heart races at sight of the blood that coats his fingers, dripping down onto his pant leg. For the first time he is taking in his surroundings; the totaled car he took without his father’s permission, the two cop cars parked to block the road, multiple officers pacing the scene as they take photos for evidence.

He sucks in his teeth at the burning pain radiating from the back of his head as the adrenaline finally wears off. He grazes against the crown to find an open gash at least the size of his index finger.

“Jack answer me!” Brandon called out to his brother through gritted teeth. He lazily looks up as the deputy approaches the two of them, his hand on his gun as if he may have to draw it at any second. He relaxes his hold on the holster when he realizes they aren't a flight risk.

“Don’t say anything.” Jack’s tone tells Brandon it’s a threat, not a warning.

“Alright, who wants to tell me what happened here?” The cop’s southern drawl suggests he’s a transplant from below the Mason Dixie line. Neither of you dare to make eye contact. “I need a medic.” Jack finally speaks, motioning to the injury on his head. The cop pops the gum in his mouth, the sound making Jack shiver. The only thing he hates more than ignorant cops is a cop with no manners.

“I’m surprised they let you in the force with a third-grade education. Tell me officer, are you and your inbred children enjoying the Hamptons?” Jack groans out in pain as the officer pulls him up from the ground, throwing him against the door of the cop car. “Fuck, I’m already bleeding here, lets not make it internal as well!” Jack smirked to himself as he felt the cold handcuffs clamp around his wrists.

“Anything you want to say before your taken to the station?” The cop felt unsettled as he watched Jack’s demeanor change, his movements robotic, his tone even.

“My name is Jackman Thomas Harlow III. I’m 16 years old. I want my one phone call.”

Jack jumps at the force of the door slamming closed. The backseat smells like shame and piss as he adjusts in his seat to see out of the back window. Brandon is being loaded into the neighboring car, tears streaming down his face. “That bitch better not say anything”, Jack utters out to an empty car.

The police station is quiet aside from a few drunk locals who frequent the metal jail cell that was visible from the front desk. Jack began to sober up as he was booked and fingerprinted. He knew he wasn’t going to show up in their system; his father made sure of that. “You’re wasting your time”, he whispered, but the desk clerk was none the wiser. He was taken back to the medic station to get sewn up. He patted the bandage that was placed haphazardly on his head. His head was still throbbing; they had denied him any pain medication.

“Jack, what are we going to do?” He groaned at the sight of his brother, his face red and puffy from the hours of crying as he walked to the back of the holding cell. He wasn’t sure how it was possible to despise someone that he was supposed to love. Brandon looked nothing like him; his hair jet black and straight, his green eyes making him the outcast of the family. Jack slumped down on the hard metal bench, attempting to stretch his tight leg muscles. There was no way he was going to be able play in the lacrosse game this weekend with his injuries. “Just relax, everything will be fine.” Jack gave him a dead smile, looking past Brandon rather than at his face. His eyes were focused on the homeless man that was asleep on the floor across the room, his tattered clothing and missing shoes displaying that he had been here a while. “I fuckin’ hate homeless people.” Jack said out loud, resting his head against the concrete wall.

“Jackman Harlow.” Jack allowed his eyes to flutter open, making out a figure between the thick iron bars. “Jackman Harlow”, the clerk repeated, calling out to the number of inmates. “Yeah, that’s me.” Jack held up a weak arm as he stood, hobbling to the door. He gulped, backing up when he saw his father walking toward him, still in the black tuxedo he saw him wearing earlier tonight when he left for one of his many parties. His face was deadpan, which scared Jack more than any angry expression he had seen on his father’s face before. “Your bail has been posted, you’re free to go.” He could feel the disapproval radiating off of his father’s body, but he relished in the warmth; it was comforting to him at this point.

“Wait, what about me?” Jack turned back to Brandon who was still behind bars. “Dad, please!” Brandon called out, his hands white knuckling the bars. “Is this your son as well, sir?” Jack’s father straightened out his coat, clearing his throat. “I’ve never seen him before in my life.” Jack winked at Brandon as he walked away. Sometimes things end up working in his favor after all.

Series Masterlist

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jackman harlow #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine

[jedipoodoo]

love you to the moon and to saturn

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

part two: ten months older i won't give in

Notes/Warnings: Whump, torture (Torture droids), major character death.

For the umpteenth time that day, Omega told herself to just breathe. Hunter was captured too, he couldn’t worry about comforting her and getting them both out of here at the same time. Still, she felt his eyes on her as they were led through the halls of Mount Tantiss. Omega’s vision tunnelled, reacting purely on muscle memory as she was led along the route she knew so well.

They were brought to Hemlock’s lab, the first place she’d seen when she first arrived at Mount Tantiss. Some of the clones Omega had seen then were still alive, like Crosshair, but most had vanished.

“So you’re Sergeant Hunter,” A voice cut through the haze of cotton that blanketed Omega’s mind. Emerie left her position at one of the examination tables, and approached Hunter, hands folded behind her back as she studied his face.

“I was expecting someone of your prowess to be a bit…taller.”

Hunter chuckled, casually taking a step closer to Omega, “Well, you seem to know all about me, but I’m afraid I don’t know anything about you.”

Emerie shrugged, “There’s not much to know. My name is Emerie Karr, I’m Doctor Hemlock’s assistant, much like Omega was for Nala Se. I’ve heard a lot about you from Omega.”

Hunter glanced down at Omega, who for reasons she didn’t understand, felt ashamed. Would he be mad that he had talked about the batch with an Imperial Scientist?

But when she looked up at him, he wasn’t glaring at her, he was glaring back at Emerie.

“You’re going to regret ever laying a finger on her,” He snarled.

Emerie didn’t look the least perturbed. “I’ve never touched her,” she told Hunter, what little assurance that gave.

She glanced down at her datapad, making her way back to the table, and one of the TK troopers placed a hand on Hunter’s shoulder and squeezed. A reminder.

Omega gulped nervously.

“Hunter?” She whispered, wondering if anyone would strike at her for speaking without having first been spoken to. “She says she’s our sister.”

Hunter was just as surprised as Omega had been when she was told. Omega didn’t even know if Emerie was telling the truth, she had no evidence to back it up. Omega thought that, having spent her whole life in Nala Se’s laboratory, she would know of any other female clone troopers. But even if Omega tried to bring it up to the Kaminoan, she would blatantly ignore any inquiries.

“I am a defective clone of Jango Fett, much like the two of you and the rest of Clone Force Ninety-Nine,” Emerie said. She pressed a few buttons on the screen connected to the examination table, talking as if Omega had simply remarked on the weather, and Hunter’s perception of himself and his brothers wasn’t completely shattering for the second time in his life.

“If you’re a clone, what are you doing with the Empire? They’re wiping out the rest of us.” Hunter still didn’t believe her, Omega could tell.

“Only the ones who pose a threat to the Empire. I’ve worked with Doctor Hemlock since my adolescence. I am loyal to him, and he is loyal to the Emperor.”

Hunter’s move to shield Omega from Emerie’s view was much more obvious this time, but it was futile.

A door across the room opened, and Omega found herself gripping Hunter’s pants leg as Hemlock entered.

“Ah, Sergeant Hunter. I thought we might meet again soon,” Hemlock greeted almost cheerily.

The TK Captain stepped forward. “His comm and weapons, sir,” He held them out.

Hemlock glanced at Hunter’s pitiful-looking arsenal and his mouth twitched like he was struggling not to laugh.

“You really thought you could take on an entire base with nothing but a blaster and a vibroblade? You could have found a lightsaber at least.”

Hunter shrugged, “Not quite my style.”

With his hand bound behind his back, he tried to brush Omega in a comforting way, but it just felt awkward. Omega was grateful that Hunter at least stood between her and Hemlock, that forced Hemlock to look at Hunter instead of her, and she knew she couldn’t withstand the scientist’s gaze at the moment.

“Are his friends anywhere nearby?” Hemlock asked his men, and Omega allowed hope to soar in her heart for one fragile moment.

“No sir. He snuck beneath our shields in a modified V-wing. Its serial number matches one that was swiped in a raid on the Coruscaunt shipyards two weeks ago. No transmissions have come in or out since then.”

Omega looked up at Hunter in shock. He was always livid with her whenever she pulled a risky move on her own, even if it was to help, and here he was trying to rescue her on his own! Where were Echo and Rex in all this?

Hemlock shook his head, “You’re more foolish than I thought.”

“Omega’s my kid,” Hunter snapped at the Doctor, “I wasn’t leaving her in your clutches if I could help it.”

“Indeed.”

Hemlock nodded to the TK troopers, and Omega felt herself being pulled away for the second time that day.

“No! No!” She screamed, reaching out for Hunter as two TK troopers pulled her across the room towards Hemlock.

“Omega!” Hunter tried to lunge after them, but several troopers held him down, dragging him towards Emerie’s examination table. For all the anger in his voice, Hunter was nowhere near as strong as Wrecker.

“No! Stop, no! Hunter, Help!” Omega screamed though she knew Hunter couldn’t do anything. He shouldn’t have to. He shouldn’t have to always swoop in to rescue her, to clean up her mess. He shouldn’t have to pay for the mistakes she had made.

Hemlock placed his cold, gloved hand on Omega’s shoulder, giving her a light squeeze to remind her of her injuries. Omega whimpered softly, but it was enough to make Hunter freeze in terror. As her brother tried to think of any possible way out of this force-forsaken room, he was yanked down onto the examination table, and strapped in with the rough woven bonds that Omega hated so much.

Hemlock sighed, “And why all this drama? We could have avoided all of this if you had just cooperated.”

Hunter mustered all his strength to hurl a glob of spit across the room at Hemlock. It hardly made it halfway there, and Omega could see some blood mixed with the spit.

“Cooperation was out of the question the moment you killed my brother.”

Hemlock raised one eyebrow at the audacity of the man in front of him.

“It wasn’t I who gave the order to shoot down your cable car on Eriadu. In fact, all of you are far more valuable than simply to be used as target practice, there’s so much we can learn from you.”

Hemlock left Omega standing on her own, but she was too enraptured by Hemlock’s calm, creeping voice to make any escape attempts. That, and the two guards at each doorway would make quick work of her. Or worse, Hunter.

“Do you know how long it took your brother to break?”

Hunter strained against the straps around his head, trying his best to glare up at Hemlock.

“I’m sure you know we’ve had Crosshair in here for a while. It’s quite remarkable how stubborn he is.”

Unyielding, Tech had called him. Omega’s heart ached at the thought of her lost brother.

“Even more remarkable is his lack of self-preservation. It’s a trend I’ve noticed in many clones, on or off the battlefield. You have a quality about you that makes you so determined to live, but not at the cost of another’s life.”

Hemlock laughed, and Omega shivered.

“He had the opportunity to escape, you know. Emerie tried to stop him, telling him he wouldn’t be able to make it, but he tried anyway. If anyone could break out of our facility here, it would be one of you from Experimental Clone Force 99. But instead of escaping, he did a peculiar thing.

“He warned you about me.”

A thick silence settled over the room, like the humidity on Kamino.

“He could have called for help, given you his location, but he chose to help you.”

Hemlock rubbed his thumb against the palm of his gloved hand.

“I wonder why he would waste such a valuable opportunity on you.”

Any defiance Omega had left seemed to melt from her shoulders. They’d already lost Tech, she couldn’t risk losing Hunter, or Crosshair.

“Not that I’m complaining, however, that message did pull you out of hiding— the opposite of its intended effect, of course—and allowed me to find Omega, who is now an essential part of our work here.” Hemlock tried to hide his laughter this time, “You should have seen the look on Crosshair’s face when he realized Omega was behind held in the cell next to him.”

The table Hunter was strapped to creaked loudly as Hunter exerted all the strength in his body to his attempt at escaping. His muscles strained against the bonds as he rocked the table.

Hemlock took one step back and smirked, pleased with having gotten a rise out of Hunter.

A haunting hum echoed through the room, and Omega saw Hunter’s eye twitch at the incessant sound as it grew louder, drawing closer. The IT-O torture droid floated ominously into Omega’s field of vision, slowly making its way to Hemlock’s side as he stood over Hunter. There was hardly ever an excuse for Hemlock to use the torture droids. He needed a steady baseline in order to collect data from his experiments on the many, many clones that had made their way through Mount Tantiss. But he didn’t need data from Hunter, Omega realized with terror. He needed answers.

“Unfortunately, I’m not as familiar with your unique capabilities as I am with the standard clone’s, but am I correct in hypothesizing that your enhanced senses include an enhanced sense of pain?”

Hunter was a highly trained operative of the Galactic Republic. He knew how to keep himself from revealing sensitive topics and he was willing to die before he gave away any of his secrets to Imperial scum.

But Omega had no such training, and her gasp could be heard echoing throughout the room.

Hemlock shook his head.

”Oh. How unfortunate.”

The droid was at Hunter’s neck with a syringe of suspiciously clear, viscous liquid. Before Omega could warn him, the needle was in his neck.

“Where’s the Clone Resistance hiding?” Hemlock asked, his voice dangerously calm,

Hunter was breathing heavily as the IT-O droid slowly pushed more of the serum into his veins.

“Go…to…hell.” he grunted.

“Interesting reaction,” Hemlock nodded to Emerie, who made a note of it.

Tears welled up in Omega’s eyes. She was rooted to the spot despite the terror she was witnessing.

Hunter jerked his head away from the IT-O’s needle, bringing him eye-to-eye with Omega.

Omega didn’t know what it was that Hunter saw that made his eyes go wide with terror, but then the IT-O shocked him and he howled in pain.

“Excellent. Again.” Hemlock instructed.

Hunter grit his teeth, trying not to scream. His teeth ground together through another volt of electricity. Tech was always telling him to relax his jaw and not grind his teeth.

"Omega, come here," Hemlock beckoned her forward. Omega shuffled her feet, but the TK Trooper hit her in her shoulder again, and she stumbled towards Hemlock and Hunter.

Hunter trembled on the table, his eyes squeezed shut like he was having a nightmare. Omega bit her lip as Hemlock placed both his hands on her shoulders.

“Maybe you can help us, Omega.”

“What?” She whispered hoarsely, trembling with every breath she took.

“I wonder how long you could last watching your brother be tortured. How long would it take for you to break, to give me the information I want.”

Omega’s breath caught in her throat.

“Doctor,” Emerie hissed, “Omega’s mental state is rather delicate.”

Hemlock ignored her.

"You've been with Clone Force Ninety-nine on a good bit of their adventures. Surely you would know where Captain Rex and his fighters are hiding?"

Omega stared at Hunter for a while. How was she supposed to answer that?

"I… I don't know-"

The IT-O droid shocked Hunter again.

"Omega," Hunter took deep breaths, and she could hear the wheezing as his lungs strained, "Don't tell them…don't tell them anythi-"

Another shock. Omega jumped, even though the droid hadn't shocked her.

"Do you know what that serum did to him, Omega?" there was a playful tone in Hemlock's voice, like a teacher in creche, and he crouched at Omega's side, nudging her closer to the table. Her hand brushed against Hunter's, clenched tightly in a fist. When he felt her touch, he flinched away at first, but then he nudged his pinky in between her fingers, wrapping around her own.

"When you're a hardened soldier like Hunter is, your barriers for pain are heightened, trained, strengthened from years and years. But with the introduction of a single chemical," Hemlock snapped his fingers just in front of Omega's nose, and she jumped again.

"They can disappear just like that."

Omega tried to pull away, but Hunter kept his finger wrapped around hers.

"Omega, it's gonna be okay," Hunter insisted.

"And yet he still tries to comfort you. How touching. Hit him again."

Hunter tried to hold back his scream, but it ripped out of his chest all the same, drilling into Omega's skull.

"Are you certain you don't know where Captain Rex is, Omega?" Hemlock sang, "If there's anything you could tell us, you can stop this from happening to Hunter. We've got a bacta tank right here. All you have to do is answer the question."

"I-I don't!" Omega insisted, "It's been too long, they must have moved it since I got captured!"

"AUGH-!" Hunter choked on his spit as the IT-O upped the voltage.

"Doctor," Emerie said sharply. Omega knew that tone, and she knew the sound that was coming from her tablet. The monitor was detecting Hunter's heart beating faster and faster, far faster than it was supposed to.

"STOP IT, STOP, PLEASE, I DON'T KNOW!" Omega screamed. The IT-O ignored her please, shocking Hunter several times in rapid succession.

Hemlock scuffed her, his hand around the back of her throat as he pushed her close to Hunter's face.

"That's not good enough, Omega, and you know it. Tell me now, or your brother dies."

Omega's throat was dry. Hunter was dying, and it was all her fault. She could tell Hemlock where Echo and Rex were and spare him, but then they and all the clones they'd rescued would be in danger. She couldn't do that to them. How was she supposed to choose between her brothers?

"Where is Captain Rex hiding?" Hemlock asked her one more time. The IT-O shocked Hunter again.

Hunter heaved a sharp breath as his heartbeat stuttered, "I lo- I love-"

The rapid beeping turned into an eerie siren, and Hunter's last words were lost to the ringing in Omega's ears.

Taglist (comment/dm to be added): @chopper-base

#yes all the titles for this series are taylor swift lyrics thanks for asking #lizart writes #sergeant hunter #omega #hunter #the bad batch #tbb hunter #tbb omega #hunter bad batch #the bad batch omega #the bad batch hunter #bad batch hunter whump #bad batch omega whump #whump #torture #ttmats

[zalrb]

How do you think Jax and Tara got together in high school? Based on her relationship with the club I would have to imagine there was a “small town so they knew each other but never spoke vibe” and then there was a turning point but i’m curious what you think that might have been. And then secondary to that what do you think they were like before they got together? We can infer that Tara was studious and Jax was all about the club but nothing else really.

Hmm. OK. So, I can see Jax helping out at Teller Morrow after school or on the weekends and one day, Tara's dad -- who's been described as a crazy drunk -- was driving Tara somewhere, I don't know, the grocery store or something and gets into a minor crash and his car is towed there. When they get there, it's kind of slow so Jax is reading a book, I don't know let's say Ulysses, and Tara notes that Jax is in her English class and it's not a book that was assigned so he's just reading it for fun.

Jax sees her handling her father and talking about the car to one of the mechanics and when it's time to leave, he walks up to her.

"I can drive you wherever you need to go."

Tara's resistant. "No, it's fine, I can just call a cab if I can use your phone."

Jax chuckles. "That [insert technical car thing] is going to cost [insert amount] so you might as well take advantage of the full Teller-Morrow service, darlin'."

And he flashes his signature Jax smile and Tara feels herself breaking and they're staring at each other until finally, "OK. Thank you."

She starts manoeuvring her dad but Jax is like "No, I got it" and hauls her dad into the truck.

The ride is quiet for a bit and then Tara asks, "How're you enjoying James Joyce?"

Jax says something thoughtful and intelligent and Tara is visibly impressed.

He grins. "Thought I was all beauty and no brains, huh?"

"Beauty, right." She scoffs, rolling her eyes, but with a hint of amusement. "No, you're just not in class much and you never really say anything when you are. Too busy getting notes from Carla Greggs."

She looks out the window as she speaks but Jax can hear a hint of jealousy which puts a small smile on his face, then Tara says,

"You can never really tell what's going on with someone, I guess."

Jax glances at her father passed out next to him and agrees. The ride is still mostly quiet but the quiet has shifted, deepened -- there's a sense of familiarity and understanding now.

They reach her house.

"Thanks for the ride. You didn't have to do this, really."

Jax ignores this. "I'll get him inside."

He gets out of the truck and takes a hold of her father, propping him up as they make it over to the house. Inside, Tara directs him through the clutter.

"You can just put him in that chair."

Jax sets him in a recliner and then lightly starts smacking his face. "Hey. Hey. Wake up." Her father's eyes open, still a bit bleary, but Jax doesn't move or speak until he's sure he's got his full attention. "Don't drive her like this ever again." He holds the gaze and then gets up, glancing back at Tara before leaving. "See you at school."

Tara watches him leave, speechless and deeply touched.

*

So to answer the second part of the question, I think Jax was what we see in season 1 -- I think he was a probably a very big flirt and loved the ladies, also pretty introspective, I think he probably liked school but not nearly as much as the club obviously, and spent a lot of time hanging out with Opie, I think he could be a little mischievous, maybe pull a prank here and there and I think he was always a Presence.

With Tara, I don't get the impression she had many friends because she was focused on getting out of Charming but I don't think she was uptight or high strung, just very dedicated and focused and kind of had tunnel vision toward that goal and Jax would prove to be a complication to that.

#sons of anarchy #jax x tara #tara x jax #jax teller #tara knowles #SOA

[6mommymilkers9]

Hi, can I ask for a, Splinter with a powerful witch s/o. She is loveing, karing, sweet, and understanding, but if you mess with this wich and hert the ones she loves, she becomes scary scary. Also one day she takes a hit for Splinter. Shredder sneaks up behind splinter, she pushes him out of the way and she gets hert. Love and happiness at the end please. If this is too much ignore this.

Totally! Love the idea :)

Fem! Reader

Take It Out On Me

Darkness. Some fear it, some bathe themselves in it. You were not one of those people, but here you were, drowning. The day had gone by as usual, taking care of your boys, spending time with your lover. Now, well, life had flip itself upside down.

The family was enjoying Space Hero’s, you cuddled against the rats side, your sons next to you. You couldn’t have asked for better. That was, until everything collapsed, quite literally. The walls, shaking with such force, you couldn’t tell if you were vibrating, or merely hallucinating.

As stones fell, show long forgotten, you rushed your sons to the nearest exit, Splinter opting to be left behind, foot soldiers trotting their way into your home. Some say time is no friend, this was true. It was drooling, slow. You saw how your sons were scared. For them and for their father. They tried many times to run back, but with a wave of your hand, you kept them by your side.

Everything seemed to be calm, the tunnels dark. Your only friend was the rhythmic drops of water. Thinking you were safe, you let your sons sit down, seeing how tired they were. Looking at the ground, running a hand through your hair, the dirt seemed to be moving? ‘Weird. I’m not doing anything’ Standing up quickly, raising your hands, forcibly shoving the turtles far from yourself. “Run my sons! And don’t look back!” Voice echoing throughout the tunnels, eyes wide as footsteps got louder by the second, dirt shaking hastily.

“Mom! We can leave you!” Raphael cried out, the others begging for you to come. “I said go!” You yelled, your eyes never leaving the turtles, watching as their figures became cloudy. One by one, the soldiers came, making their way to you, but never past. Their bodies, laying across the dirt floor, your breath heavy with anger. Screaming, that’s all that was heard. Not of the soldiers, but of you. A mother’s cry. One that could pierce the hearts of angels.

You fought, until there was nothing to stab, throw, punch. Nothing except the air. On your heels, you began to run. Your boys were safe, you just hoped your husband was too. “Yoshi!” Feet coming to a halt, rubble everywhere, almost quiet, except for the groans and sheath of metal.

Throughout your years, you’ve experienced chapters of history, but this? The scene before you, Splinter laying on the ground, battered and bloody, The Shredder, blade to the mutants throat, it torn something in you. “Get away from him!” You screamed, walls shaking underneath your breath.

The Shredder, deaf to your words, lifted his blade, swinging down onto his target, the feeling on flesh being pierced. Though, looking down, it wasn’t Hamato Yoshi against the blade, rather, it was you. “No one hurts my family.” Whimpering, you placed your hand on the blade, electricity shooting from your fingertips, to the armor dawning Oroku Saki. The last thing you heard, was the cries of your lover, pressure applied to your stomach.

Days, weeks, you were floating. You didn’t know where you were. You could hear voices, faint, but there. There was nothing to see, except the void. Afraid, you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, yet you were screaming. Was this hell? Heaven? You didn’t know. You wanted to go home.

It stayed like this for days, a week maybe? Time was indifferent here. You couldn’t feel anything, so why were you shaking all of the sudden? “Y/n?” “Mom? Please, wake up.”

The shaking became violent, almost painful, and then, light. Groaning, you lifted your arms, cursing the light that pierced your vision. “MOM!” Came screams, weight sinking onto your chest and shoulders. Opening your eyes, your sons held onto you, tears evident on their green scales. “Mom you’re awake.” Donatello whimpered, his grip tightening onto your shirt. The turtles, dared not to let you go. “Dad never left your side.”

“Y-Yoshi?” Sputtering, you looked up, your husband looking down at your, fur wet, tail wrapped around your arm. “Watashi no ai. You saved us.” A weak smile dawned your pale lips, an arm wrapped around your sons, the other, reaching to caress your lovers fur. “It’s my job, darling. You know this.” A small chuckle escaped the rats mouth, placing a hand on your own. “We missed you.” “You have no idea.”

#teenage mutant ninja turtle imagine #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt fandom #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles x reader #tmnt michelangelo #master splinter 2012 x reader #master splinter x reader #master splinter 2012 #master splinter #the shredder tmnt #the shredder #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2012 x reader #tmnt #tmnt 2012 donnie #tmnt 2012 raph #tmnt 2012 leo #tmnt 2012 mikey #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 x you #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt michelangelo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #ice cream kitty #the foot clan