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mickmundy · 11 months

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okay so i half-answered this on cc itself, but i wanted to further elaborate and upload pictures to talk about what i mean and to give more of an "in depth" answer/advice so here i am! gonna stick this under a cut since it's a little lengthy BUT i hope this helps! ;__;!! also obvious and necessary but irritating disclaimer i'm not a professional writer (or even among the best out there lol) so this is just what works for me and how i write and how i Enjoy writing (as opposed to it feeling like you're "hitting a wall")!

my writing style is just writing the way I would want to read a fic, if that makes sense? i wanted to read a bushmed fic that read more like a novel and less like a movie or a comic book script (if that makes sense!) that focuses on symbolism, setting and the character progression of each person involved (in this case, medic and sniper) as well as their progression as a couple. i think ship stuff often suffers greatly because one character often ends up diluted down to “Love Interest For Character A” and not portrayed as someone who is Also an important part of the series as, you know, the second main character!

that’s not to say my writing Flawlessly Executes This (or even does it at all! but i hope it does sobs) but that’s a huge goal of my own personal writing. i want medic and sniper to feel "Strong" on their own (because they are!), but not without their own sets of flaws and vulnerabilities that are talked about and dealt with as they fall in love and "become a couple" (... hopefully! >:) heh!). i think doing "character studies" for the characters you want to write about is really helpful! for me, that encompasses a LOT of things so if you were curious about that too, just lmk and i'll happily make that a separate post! ^u^

for Structuring fics themselves and delving into "actual writing advice", i'm someone who LOVES making really formal "essay-like" outlines/charts/etc for my fics, but it's ultimately not something i do until much later as a post-writing notation function (Remembering important plot points/devices as opposed to Fleshing Them Out).

idk if literally anyone else does it this way but i have a discord channel in which i just ramble (to myself and my gf if she wants to weigh in!) and blab just to Chunk Stuff Out. i'll be using some examples from the planning of my completed fic Malus as examples! while Sometimes i can just "sit down and write" my fics (as in just hopping into the doc and Writing Very Formally), a lot of my fic's Key Moments (except for the apricot dream in Fever. that i wrote in under an hour almost exactly as you read it on ao3!) are done very casually! this is quite literally how i plan/"write" my fics:

like just a fucking. MASSIVE series of run on sentences (often because im just Literally typing what my mind is thinking), emoji use and just. as fucking sloppity slapdash as you can possibly imagine. and that's alright! it's the first draft after all! what's most important is that you're getting your thoughts down. so you can read (and be appalled SDFKSFD) at this Extremely Massive wall of text, but i will let you into the Enigma That Is My Mind (that one patrick meme but its a picture of medic and sniper kissing in the thought bubble):

first of all the most essential part of my writing process is having a beautiful femme wife who gives commentary and encourages you to write the butchfemme bushmed romance of your dreams ☝️u__u! so i recommend beautiful crazy-enthusiastic femmes to inspire you as they have inspired Me (both bee and medic of course)! HEHEH

but also, i've notated some parts of that run on mess that Sticks Out (without getting wrapped up in bullet notes, highlighting etc which can feel a bit Too analytical for your first draft imo!):

in red, i'm conveying the "tone" or "emotional pull" i want to have in this scene and in yellow i'm just Notating things that are Significant to the series. the flour print on sniper that medic would eventually catch sight of at the end of the fic and envy, how medic and sniper See and Observe each other, which is obviously important to how i write them because my fics put emphasis on how they see each other and their respective differences (imagined or real)!

so then i usually take these Massive Walls Of Text (this is a short one! LOL) and dissect them and space them out, get a better visual on what i'm trying to say, and then fill things in accordingly. i find it works a lot better than trying to "bullet point" them since i just write how i think, and that's a lot less "stuffy" than trying to work off of a really Formal/"Academic-feeling" outline.

i think it's important to play around with different styles and what kind of method makes sense for you personally and to spend time honing that! even if i just write run on stuff like this ^ it helps get my brain in an easy, "rolling out writing" mode that thoughts just kinda come more naturally!

i also heavily advocate for how i post my fics (ie writing them to completion and treating them as "seasons"/parts and posting one chapter per week) becuase it allows you SOO much time to continue to write and to continue your story while preventing burnout! again i can elaborate on this in a whole other post if you wanted, but i've already prattled on so much i don't want to Ramble! ;-;

as far as keeping writing fun (or keeping it from feeling miserable at least), i sincerely advise just writing about what you like. put aspects of yourself or things you like into the characters you're writing, make your story interesting to YOU! would You want to read your own writing? i think you should!! ^v^ write the writing you want to read, and skill and technique and everything/anything else will come.

in the wake of people literally feeding fics to those stupid chatbots i emphasize even more to please put your heart into what you write and it will show and be wonderful, whether its Epic Novelizations or One Shot Smut or Whatever... it was made by you! and that's awesome! i'm so happy you're here and writing and posting, it's very brave!! <333

I LOVE YOUUUU YOU ARE EPIC AND I AM SO PROUD OF YOU!!! I know what you write will be amazing and i really appreciate you asking me something like this, i hope i can hear from you (anonymously or not!) sometime soon and that this might have been at least a little helpful? ;_; ILYYYYY <3333

#dutchfoolery #thou giveth fever #tehcnicaly?

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holisticsoulhealer · 1 year

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Angelic Help - A Spiritual Story

I’m sure we’ve all read many wonderful, inspiring stories of receiving help from the Angelic realm. Some of those stories saved lives, while others steered people onto the right path, or helped them find love, or prevented them from being in danger. I love all those stories, almost as much as the ones I’ve experienced throughout the 30 plus years of showing up in this extraordinary, sacred work.

One of my favorites cut through my own humanity, illustrating to me how I could be a better version of myself. Here’s the story………………

It was a Saturday and we had two clients on the books, and then my mum and I were going to do a little shopping for fun and have a meal out. It was unusual for us to complete a Saturday this way, and we were both pretty excited at the prospect.

The first client came in and had a beautiful session. It began with massaging her brilliant spirit deeply into her physical body, and she lifted off so high, that she wept, laughed and then heard messages guiding her into her life. She got so peaceful and the room we shared was filled with grace. My timing went over a little because right at the end when I’d turned her over to lay face up, she was softly weeping and I needed to allow more time for her to complete. I loved every moment of her session and she did too.

I walked out to the reception where my mother gave me a look that spoke a thousand words ( she was always good at those looks). The agitated client that was waiting for about 20 minutes, was hopping mad. She glared at me, letting me know that she had somewhere to go and I was ruining her Saturday plans. I asked her simply if she still had time to have a session with me. She wasn’t sure and walked outside to think about it. I shared a look with my mum. We were definitely curious to see what she would do.

She’d driven over an hour to see me, and she’d taken a stressful call from work, which placed her in a very bad mood. She returned in a huff, telling us that she’d go ahead with having a session. My client came out, had a quick hug from me, and sat to drink tea and tell my mum about her experience ( my mum loved it when clients did that.)

My next client followed me into the room, where I changed out sheets and sprayed the table clean, asking her what she wanted to focus on. She rudely told me to get out so she could undress and get on with her appointment time, before she changed her mind and chose to leave. I felt quite attacked, leaving the room in a hurry, shaking with the energy of anger she was tossing out. I stood at the door, wishing I could tell her to simply leave and get on with our lovely plans. Instead, I asked for Angelic help.

I begged them to help me as I wasn’t feeling like working on her. I didn’t like her at all in that moment. I was told to begin a mantra of “I love you, I love you, I love you.” I was told to simply say it over and over in my head until I felt it.

I walked back into that room, repeating that mantra while massaging her back as she lay on the table. After a while the words came out, out loud and she could hear me saying “I love you, you are worth loving and I love you, right now and right here, you are worth loving and I love you right here and right now.” I kept saying it and within a few moments, she began sobbing and sobbing. She cried for the whole hour. I saw the sweet one, the pure one while the layers melted through her tears. The Angels had told me to love her, just love her, and we turned hate to love. The space was sacred with Angelic help.

That session changed my life forever. I knew how. I remembered how to return to love.

As always, please share this post with anyone that you feel can benefit from it! Please like us on your social media channels and subscribe to our mailing list if you haven't already done so! We are mailing out a monthly newsletter and a recap each week of our blog posts and interesting tidbits! This is how you can stay informed with what is new in the world of The Holistic Soul Healer!!

Love & Blessings,

Ruth

Get personal with your Angels!! Connect with me and see what they have to say!!

BOOK NOW!

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oliviajdjarin · 3 years

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Chapter 8: An Apology

Warnings: depression, suicidal thoughts, references to an incredibly painful past, references to murder, references to torture, lots of crying, references of being shot/stabbed. This is really heavy, so please proceed with caution.

Author’s Note: Thank you to EVERYONE who has shown any support for this! I am very proud of this series and it makes me very happy people are enjoying it 💜

(I cannot remember where I got this gif from, so if it’s yours please let me know so I can credit you!)

After Mando left, you sat in your silent sobs for what felt like hours.

It could have been hours for all you knew. It’s not like you cared anyway.

All you did was sit in your guilt and shame, allowing yourself to digest all you’ve done. You have been pushing this down for so long, and now it feels like there is no stopping it.

A person can only pretend for so long, and you would give anything to just go back in time and reverse it all.

So many faces flash in your memory of people you’ve killed and cheated for the Empire, and it’s an absolute hell. None of these people deserved what they got. None of them. And yet you still did it.

No matter how many excuses you make for how you became a part of the Empire and all the torture they put you through, you still did it. You are still an enemy to the people you held so dear after so little time.

You are a monster.

After a while, you hear Mando’s footsteps entering Kuiil’s house again. You don’t even know where Kuiil is, you honestly forgot he even existed.

Maybe he will forgive me, you think to yourself. We were in a similar situation?

You see Mando’s helmet enter through the doorway and you feel the smallest, tiniest fraction of butterflies you once had for the man returning.

But the butterflies are immediately squashed when you remember you are about to be thrown out. Again.

Just because you handled it once before doesn’t mean you have the strength to go through that now. Especially after everything you’ve done.

You feel his eyes scanning your pathetic, patched up form on the ground, and the storm inside of you starts to rumble again.

Please… please not again.

He sits down on the opposite side of the ship, resting his hands on his knees. He folds his hands, and you swear you hear him take a deep breath.

“She needs to calm down, that’s all,” he says, referring to Cara, and you find some strength to nod. Your eyes are burning and your muscles want to explode from exhaustion. Your mind is keeping you awake, while the rest of your body just wants to sleep.

“I…. I wouldn’t have let her kill you,” he says, and you shut your eyes, feeling the tears start to rise again.

Why, you think to yourself. It would be easier for everyone if I was just dead!

You still somehow keep yourself together, wiping your nose with your sleeve. He can see how much pain you are in, but you were praying he didn’t pity you. You didn’t deserve it. Especially from him.

“I have only heard stories about red lightsabers. They belong to an evil, dark side of the powers that the kid has,” he says, and you nod.

He has to understand. You know he understands. He always has.

“They’re called Sith… right,” he asks, and you finally make eye contact with him.

“Yes,” you croak out. Your voice sounds like you hadn’t talked for a hundred years, but Mando just nodded.

Yes, you think to yourself. I am a Sith.

The fact that Mando knows who and what you are now is the weirdest combination of feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders, but at the same time, one double the weight has been added.

He was talking so gently. Like he didn’t want to rub it in your face.

He has to be doing this so I don’t kill him when he kicks me out, you think.

Why else would he have any respect for me? No one else ever has?

He takes a moment to process, and then he asks, “The Emperor was a Sith… wasn’t he?”

You feel like a sword has been stabbed through you one final time, but you don’t want to make him feel like he’s hurting you, so you just nod slowly.

You have to save your strength for when he asks you to leave. You know he will ask you in that calm, gentle voice that will haunt you forever.

He understands you fought for the Empire. You killed, destroyed, and lied for them. Their blood is forever stained on your hands, and now you got Mando bloodied.

He deserves an explanation, or at least an apology, so you mumble a quiet “um,” signifying you were about to speak.

Even if he doesn’t believe you, he needs to know you didn’t want this. Ever.

“My uh… my parents sold me,” you mumble while sniffling.

You can tell his interest is peaked because his entire body leans forward, silently asking you to continue.

How can he even look at me right now?

You proceed to tell him the story of how your parents were servants to an evil family who never gave them a fair pay. They were incredibly poor, and they had you outside of wedlock, so they were looked down upon even more in their society. They hated you for it. They took any chance they could get to get you away from them.

When the Empire came to your planet looking for recruits, your parents jumped on the offer. They didn’t mind the extra handful of credits that came with it too.

“No matter how much I hated them, they were still my parents,” you say.

“I didn’t want to leave them, so when the stormtroopers went to drag me away, I got so angry. I didn’t know it at the time, but the force channeled through me in my anger. I used all my strength, and sent them all flying through the air,” you say, while laughing uncomfortably at the memory.

Your eyes still burned and your muscles screamed for relief, but you had to keep going. Mando deserved to know the truth.

“That’s the last thing I remember of that day, and the next thing I knew, I was sent into training. I went through countless masters, but none of them could control me. I was just so angry. All the time,” you said with a sigh.

“I would refuse to do what they asked, and even when I did what I was told, I would hurt them instead. I never listened.”

You took a deep breath. This next part was going to hurt.

“They finally realized that I could not be controlled, so they….. tortured me,” you say, trying not to allow the weakness in your voice to show through.

If you got emotional, it was more likely Mando would think you were crazy. You had to keep pushing.

You cleared your throat, and continued.

“They made me do everything, Mando. They made me tear down towns, cities, planets. And if the people didn’t succumb to the Empire’s rule…,” you say, and you can’t even finish the sentence.

“I finally got away years later, and I escaped to Tattooine. They tried to stop me, but it was no use. I could beat any stormtrooper or Imperial guard they threw at me,” you say.

“They hurt me enough to know that I wouldn’t come back…… I hadn’t even come close to helping anyone but myself until I met you,” you say.

You take a deep breath and rub your eyes.

You did it, you think. He knows.

You let him digest your story. He listened intently and respectfully the entire time you were speaking. He never interrupted, he never became angry, he just stared at you and digested it all.

It was quiet for a while, until he stood up.

“The Empire killed my family,” he said, and all your composure went out the window.

You assumed that the Empire hurt him, it has hurt everyone, but this is on another level. It felt like you had been shot again, but this was way more painful. Your heart shattered for him.

You always knew the universe was cruel, but you had done horrific things, so you always thought it was payback. Now you knew the universe was truly cruel.

“I am….. so sorry,” you manage to say through your burning throat. Tears were streaming down your face, but you managed to stay relatively quiet. It’s not like crying for them would bring Mando’s family back.

He moved to you slowly and kneeled down in front of you.

You couldn’t meet his gaze. You just stared at the floor and wiped your eyes. You were hurting him, just like you hurt everyone else. It felt like hell on earth and you were convinced you were the worst person that ever lived.

“You… you don’t have to believe me Mando. I know I hurt so many people, and even if I didn’t want to, I still did what they asked,” you say, trying to fill up the space.

“You can kick me out, kill me. Anything. I just want you to know that I didn’t choose this. I swear on everything I would do anything to be any other person in the whole galaxy.”

You finish and finally meet his gaze, begging him to say something. Anything.

He stands to leave, and you finally accept your fate.

He gets to the doorway, your final hopes of forgiveness leaving with him.

“I believe you,” he mumbles, looking back at you.

“We will talk more tomorrow” he says, and he leaves you.

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @pinkninja200 @bookloverfilmoholic @farfromjustordinary @440mxs-wife

#din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #mando #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

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COSMIC - S1:E4; Chapter Four, The Body - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘠/𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘥𝘥 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧.

WARNINGS: Cursing. Homophobic comments from Tr*y [his in script use of the word fa*ry once] Reader fucking SNAPS.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

The five of us rode our bikes down the road to school, El on the back of Mike's bike as usual. She seemed eager to soak in everything around her like she would never see it again. Wind brushed the wig aside and she clung tightly to Mike.

Mike was beginning to slow down, the group of us all growing tired from the ride. Soon enough, however, we were walking through the back doors to the schools. Mike was in the lead as he turns to speak to us as we walked.

"Okay, remember, if anyone sees us, look sad."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

'He is still missing, isn't he?'

My thoughts were interrupted by the crackling of the speaker.

"Attention students, there will be an assembly to honor Will Byers in the gymnasium now. Do not go to fourth period."

I looked to the ceiling at the mention of my best friend and by the time I looked ahead, we had made it outside the AV room. Mike was attempting to open the door but it must be locked.

"It's locked." Mike confirmed.

"What?" Lucas asked.

"Hey, El, is there any way for you to open it?" I ask.

Before she could respond, we all jumped at the voice of Mr. Clarke and froze.

"Boys? Lady." He nodded towards El.

"Hey." Lucas breathed, obviously startled.

"Assembly's about to start."

"We know. We're just, you know..." Mike works a solemn look on his face as he spoke and the others seemed to join in, including me although it wasn't that difficult.

"Upset." Lucas nodded, dropping his nervous smile.

"Yeah, definitely upset," Dustin muttered.

I opened my mouth to speak, but thought better to say nothing at all and even looked down to the ground. Channeling all my emotions from just hours before.

"We need some alone time."

"To... cry." Dustin hesitated.

"Yeah, listen... I get it. I do. I know how hard this is, but let's just be there for Will, huh? And then," Mr. Clarke reached into his pocket and pulled out a key.

He tossed the key to Mike who caught it upon instinct.

"the Heathkit is all yours for the rest of the day. What do you say?"

We all looked to each other, wearing subtle triumphant smirks. It couldn't have been that easy, could it?

Mr. Clarke seemed to finally notice that he had no idea who El was.

"I don't believe we've met. What's your name?"

El seemed shocked and began to say 'Eleven' when Mike panicked and cut in.

"Eleanor! She's my, uh-"

"Cousin!" Lucas jumped in.

"Second cousin," Dustin added.

I started to laugh but caught myself just in time to play it off as a cough. I pretended to clear my throat as I looked to Mr. Clarke who was looking a bit confused.

"She's here for Will's funeral." Mike sighed.

Mr. Clarke seemed content with this answer as he shrugged and turned to her.

"Ah, well, welcome to Hawkins Middle, Eleanor. I wish you were here under better circumstances."

She looked to us and Mike, then turned to Mr. Clarke nodding her head. "Thank you."

A small smile fought its way into my face. She was doing great.

"Uh, where are you from exactly?"

El shook her head, sighing exasperatedly. "Bad place-"

"Sweden!" Dustin cuts in.

"I have a lot of Swedish family."

"She hates it there."

"Cold!"

"Subzero."

Meanwhile, I had fought back another laugh at the whole exchange and I had to play it off as a cough yet again.

"Are you alright, Mr. Henderson?"

My head snapped up, but luckily I was fairly quick on my feet this time.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I woke up with a fever, haven't been feeling well all morning. But I insisted on coming. For Will." Mr. Clarke seemed satisfied with my answer and dismissed our odd behavior.

"Shall we?"

"Yep!" We all follow Mr. Clarke to the gymnasium in silence.

As we get closer, I can hear the principal speaking from inside.

"At times like these, it is important that we come together as a community. We come-"

Dustin swung open the gymnasium doors far too hard and the loud bang echoed throughout the gym that had drawn the attention of the crowd. I elbow Dustin. I feel him shifting on his feet beside me as panic sets in.

"Abort." He whispers, turning to leave.

Thankfully, Lucas stops him and shoved him forward.

"We come together to heal... we come together to grieve..."

As the principle continues his speech, the five of us wander into the bleachers to find a seat.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Will Byers' death is an unimaginable tragedy. Will was an exceptional student and a wonderful friend to all of us. It's impossible to express the hole his loss will leave in our community. I'd like to introduce you to Sandy Sloane. She's a local grief counselor from the church over in Jonesboro."

While the principal carried on, the five of us all looked to each other, all sharing the same thought.

'We need to get to that radio. And soon.'

"I just want those of you who are having trouble dealing with this tragic loss..."

"Look at these fakers." I heard Mike whisper.

"They probably didn't even know his name till today." Lucas scoffed.

My head whipped to the side when I heard hushed chuckling. I wasn't surprised to see Troy and his friend as the source of the laughter. I glared daggers into them and my hands gripped the edge of my seat until I was sure my knuckles would tear.

The boys and El seemed quick to follow my gaze because soon enough, we were all leaning over glaring at them.

"Who is interested in this? This is so stupid." He laughed.

I grit my teeth as my vision filled with red.

"Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah..."

"Y/n..." Lucas warned, reaching out for my arm. I wasn't paying attention, but for some reason, I felt his hand leave my arm almost as soon as he grabbed it.

"'Oh, he was such a great student. Oh, he's going to leave a hole in the community.'" Troy mocked, beginning to fake sob.

I began to shake with rage, wanting nothing more than to stand up and scream 'fu-'

"Y/n,"

"What?!" I hissed at Lucas, my head whipping around to face him, my jaw clenched.

I saw fear in his eyes as he glanced between my eye line and my hands. I looked down at my own hands to see the dangerously strong grip on the wood. I yanked my hands off the bench and rubbed my hands together, keeping to myself.

I was shocked to see the faintest imprint of the most vaguely shaped hand on the bench. It was hardly noticeable and I had to do a double take.

'What the hell?'

El was leaning over and she met my gaze. She briefly looked at my hands, seeming to dismiss whatever thoughts she had. Then looked to Troy.

"Mouth breather." She whispered.

I let out a strained chuckle and nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, mouth breather." I whispered, looking back and Troy.

Eventually, the bell rang, dismissing the assembly. Even though Lucas and Dustin seemed to have let it go, Mike and I were not finished.

"Hey! Hey! Hey Troy." Mike called.

I could tell he could hear us because he barely slowed down but was clearly laughing. I stomped towards him and called him out, loud and clear.

"Hey, jackass!"

He stopped in his tracks and turned around. He seemed like he wanted to be mad, but almost like he was happy he got a rise out of us.

"You think that shit was funny?" My voice never wavered and the boys and El seemed just as shocked as I was feeling at my newfound courage.

"What'd you say, orphan?" He asked, dumbfounded.

He only called me that when he was really pissed at me.

"You heard me! And how many times do I have to tell you, I'm not an orphan if I was adopted, you dumbass! Now what the hell is in that tiny brain of yours that would compel you to laugh at someone dying, huh? I mean, shit, you must really be sick in the head. I feel sorry for you." I spit out my last few words, my voice dripping with malice.

By now I was in his face, finally letting out all the pent-up aggression I've harbored for years. And it felt good.

"Get the hell outta my face, freak!" He yells shoving me back.

I get ready to strike but Dustin grabs my arm before my fist can collide with Troy's face. I struggle to get free but my brother was determined to hold me back, with the help of Lucas of course.

"Control your 'brother', Toothless. Or he just might lose a few teeth of his own." He glares at me and I still attempt to break free.

Mike seems to have found his voice as all of this happened because he was the next to speak.

"H-Hey, he's right! Laughing like that? That's a pretty messed up thing to do."

Troy, glares at us as his minion speaks.

"Didn't you listen to the counselor, freaks? Grief shows itself in funny ways."

"You little shit-" I attempt once more to get a right hook in but Lucas stops me.

Troy laughs at me struggling.

"Besides, what's there to be sad about, anyway? Will's in fairyland now, right? Flying around with all the other little fairies. All happy and gay!"

Lucas loosened his grip on me, silently letting me go as Troy began dancing around, mocking Will.

I swung my fist and I felt it collide with his nose with a satisfying crack. He stumbled back and grasped his nose in surprise, he pulled his hand away to find a few drops of blood on his hands. The crowd that had gathered while all of this unfolded, gasped in surprise. I even earned some scattered cheers among the students.

I seemed to realize the consequences of my actions, but I was prepared to face them. It was worth it. I watched as he stormed towards me, blinded by fury.

"You're dead, freak!" He stomped towards me at a shocking speed and I stumbled back, bracing myself for the inevitable retaliation but it never came.

All I felt was a sudden pair of hands on my right arm, harshly pushing me out of the way. I looked in time to see it was Mike who pushed me out of the way. I gakwed in confusion at what happened next.

Troy had just begun to raise his arm as he was only inches from Mike when he froze.

He completely froze in place.

He seemed just as confused, if not more than anyone. That confusion quickly bubbled into fear as his eyes scanned the room as much as he could without moving his head.

It finally dawned on me and I spared a quick glance at El, who was laser-focused on Troy, head tilted down and the smallest hint of blood dripping from her nose. I smirked and looked back to Troy, a smug smile on my face.

I couldn't hold back the laughter as I saw his pants begin to dampen with urine. A stream of it began pooling at his leg, and it even soaked into his socks and shoes. Other students caught on quickly and one boy in particular, began laughing.

"Dude, Troy peed himself!"

The circle of kids erupted into laughter as Troy stood frozen in a puddle of his own pee. I turned to El, who wore a devilish smirk on her face as she glanced between Mike and me. She quickly wiped her nose and started walking away. The boys and I enjoyed this brief moment of bliss.

"Hey! What is going on here?" The principle shouted.

"Come on!" I whisper, gesturing for the boys who all had the same idea. Before people could start asking questions we grouped together and made our way to the AV room unnoticed.

#you'll float queue #stranger things #will byers x reader #reader insert #will byers #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #cosmic #y/n henderson #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #x m!reader #x male!reader #the body #tw homophobia #tw fairy slur

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meshlasolus · 3 years

Text

Intelligent Insanity

7/?

Jerome Valeska X Reader

Okay children come hither I will tempt you with this chapter then take what you want before you can have it hehe.... i realize now that sounded like a witch lmaoo

Series Summary: Two lives can start very differently, but it's never the beginning that makes the story. It's the the journey the lives take that eventually bring them down the same path.

Chapter Warnings: jealousy, angst, sadness, almost smut (we'll get there don't worry)

Jerome and I sat with our backs facing the gate today, and practically gave ourselves whiplash when we heard the buzzer from the hall. There was a new inmate.

Walking down the stretch as if it were a runway, the most beautiful blonde woman entered our humble abode with with most beautiful sense of fashion ever known to Arkham.

She was lean, and tan, and though I couldn't see her eyes for the sunglasses that covered them, I would bet you they were brilliant blue, just to match the rest of her perfect self.

Jerome kept his eyes on her the whole time, smirking slightly when she disappeared into the other room.

Both of us waited a while to see if she'd ever emerge, but the little princess must have been very high maintenance, because it took an entire hour for us to see her pretty face again. Her model like figure pulled off her jumpsuit like a charm, and the closer she got to the gate I could now see her brilliant bone structure.

Every part of this woman was perfection and it scared me half to death. If someone like her could get thrown in here with us, she must have done something real bad.

She held a magazine in her hand as she made her way over to a table in the corner... the one that I used to sit at before Jerome had come. The day he first came in here he'd ignored literally every other person in this place, and walked over to sit by me... even when the others told him I could not talk.

I would admit it did hurt a little bit to watch Jerome strut over to her and hop in the chair across from her, spiking up a conversation even though she didn't share a shred of interest in him.

I sat behind, ingnoring the way he gazed upon her affectionately, no doubt caught up in her beauty. She must be a real psycho, too. Jerome was attracted to that, and told me himself I was the only girl he'd ever known that was so out of her mind she threw a relative off a roof without thinking about it. He was pulled to the insane, because he himself was filled with it's effects.

I saw the look he gave her, and though I was across the room I knew exactly what that look was. Lust. He was practically infatuated with her very being.

I felt lonesome again, with only a moment.

He'd told me he loved me, and he held me every night and kissed me. Why did I feel so unimportant then? Why did I feel devalued as a person? The answer was simple, and easy. Jerome lied. He must not have felt those things for me, if he did, he would not so forcefully fall over the feet of the first new woman to be brought here in months.

I furrowed my brows and felt my eyes get misty. I stood up from the table abruptly and with my head down to the ground, I quickly walked down the hall and into my cell. I needed to be alone for the moment. I needed to isolate myself so I didn't fall apart in the common room.

I sat on my bed, my tears came down my face but I refused to get all loud and sobby. Instead, my channelled sadness shot through the muscles on my hands, my fingers doing the only thing they knew how in a situation such as this. They spelled out my thoughts.

'Why can I not be happy? Can I not find a single good thing in my life? Why must every little piece of goodness be ripped away?'

The faster I spelled the more I was on the verge of sobbing aloud, but when I finally did decide to let it all loose, suddenly I couldn't make a single sound. I could not speak. I could only hear the thoughts my fingers were interpreting into the air beside me.

I laid my head against the wall as I cried my eyes out. The red color would sure to bring puffyness when I was finished. Anyone who'd see me would definitely be able to tell that I'd been crying the day away.

The sun went down completely outside my tinted and barred window, and by now I didn't see the point in leaving my confinement. I settled down into the woolen blankets and cried myself to sleep. The sleep was dreamless and all I felt was black surroundings.

I hoped I would sleep through the night, and not have any interruption, but in the wee hours of the morning, several hours after the last security perimeter check, there was rustling under my bed. I didn't even care to see what it was, for I could care less what happened to me anymore.

I did however jolt a bit when a hand was placed at my shoulder, attempting to roll me over.

"Hey, you were right about those tunnels being tight. I might have claustrophobia after that...." he chuckled, sitting down next to me when I did not roll towards him. "You never came back earlier."

'That was the point.'

"I got worried when you didn't come to see me tonight." He admitted, carressing all up and down my arm. Why did he even care if I came to him in the night? He clearly had something better to do.

'Just leave me alone.'

When he saw my fingers moving rapidly, he grabbed my hand with his own, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. My words came back to me, but I didn't choose to use them yet.

"Tell me what's wrong?" He finally got me to turn over, and looking him in the eye, I felt embarrassed to have the tear stains on my cheeks and red puffy eyes to match. "Have you been crying?"

His voice was fully of sympathy, and concern, but I didn't want to allow myself much leeway to get back into this when it was just going to fall apart. Still, there were very few times when his sanity shown through, and I could hear it in his words that he was thinking rationally right now, and not like the side of him that killed his mother with an axe.

"Why didn't you come to me?"

"I didn't think you wanted me to." I confessed, letting it out in the open, knowing what the following would contain. "You were too busy with Barbie all day."

He furrowed his brows in disbelief. He looked at me like I was crazy.... which I was, but that was not the point for the moment.

"I hope you're not jealous, you have no reason to be." He consoled me as the tears nearly resurfaced, but I pushed them down, making a way for my new words.

"I'm not jealous, J. I was worried you'd found a replacement." I told him, curling into his side for comfort. His warmth wrapped around me so well, it was a shame whenever I had to be without it.

"What makes you think you could ever be replaced?" He asked sternly, picking my face up with a finger beneath my chin so I would look at him again. I hadn't noticed I even looked away.

"Anyone can be replaced, I'm no exception."

He was both sad and angry to have heard this come out of my mouth. He shook his head with determination to make me realize.

"I could never replace perfection. If Barbara was half as pretty as you, maybe she would stand a chance... the thing is," he paused, and I saw it just now. The change in his personality. He was back to his old insane self within a split second. "I'm not interested in someone like that."

I giggled a small bit, and he smiled just at the sight of it.

"That's my girl. Never wanna see you sad like that..." he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine ever so gently, keeping himself hovered above me with his arm. My hands tucked into his thick locks of copper colored hair. I loved his hair. He could easily stand out in a crowd. He looked different from just about everyone because of it. "I love you, don't ever forget that."

"Never... I love you, too." I replied, pulling his lips back to mine again. The way he tasted was so satisfying to me, I couldn't get enough of him.

Somewhere along the lines of the heated kiss, clothing items had begun to get lost on the concrete floor. When they were discarded there, I could not remember, but as I lay beneath the boy I loved, nearly bare, I thought of only one thing.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" He leaned down into my ear, whispering the soft words as he stroked the side of my body. He pulled back to look down at the way I was sprawled beneath him.

I nodded my head prominently, but he already had an idea of what my answer should look, or rather sound like.

"I need to hear you, angel." He told me, leaning down just barely over my lips, hovering and waiting for my words.

"Please..." I breathed out, with not even a second passing until his lips came down on mine again. The way he held onto me now was different than before. It was hungry, and full of passion and purpose.

"You ever done this before?" I asked him. He knew I'd had no experience with these types of things, for he'd been the first one to kiss me. The only person who tried to touch me like this was dead now, and I could very well feel the difference in the way Jerome's hands were placed on my body.

"Only once..." he mumbled against me. It made me a bit nervous knowing he had a leg up on me when it came to this, but I knew he would help me along the way.

I fully released myself into his hands tonight. Whatever he wanted to do with my body was his choice now.

That night was one not easily forgotten, ever. I would think about it until my dying day. He did love me, and he stayed up all night to prove it to me. I'd never forget the way his lips felt on mine while our bodies were connected in such an intimate way.

Two crazy peas in a pod, in love with each other as we could possibly be.

Tags are open!

@gabile18

#jerome valeska imagine #jerome valeska x reader #jerome valeska #the joker #cameron monaghan #gotham #gotham imagine #batman #joker x reader #the dark knight

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rainingin08512 · 2 years

Text

Innocent

I challenged the guys over at the Discord that I'd write this if someone beta’d the next chapter of the crow fic. It got beta’d within an hour of saying that and now here I am. What are you guys doing to me?

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

It was around 11 at night when both apparatuses backed into the bay of the fire station, coming to rest in their usual spots. John opened his eyes as he felt the squad stop, raising up his hand and rubbing his face. He felt sweat stick to his hand, then drew it back and stared at his open palm. He hadn't managed to wipe off all the blood.

"Not sure I can sleep after this one," he commented, flexing his fingers. He didn't wait for his partner to respond before opening the door and hopping out, taking a second to stretch out his back.

John looked over to the rest of the crew as they departed the engine.

"Anybody else not sleeping tonight?" He wearily yelled out into the bay. He was met with groans and mumbling agreement.

Hank wordlessly appeared around the front of the engine, pushing and rubbing at his neck.

"I know I'm not," he simply replied. Taking a deep breath, he shrugged in defeat and trotted in the direction of the rec room, everyone else following along at their own pace.

Roy reached out and planted a hand on his partner's shoulder, spinning him around.

"You alright after that?" He questioned in a serious tone. John shrugged in return, his expression dropping.

"Drunk drivers. Always hated 'em." He spat out with as much anger as his exhausted self could muster.

"That's not what I'm referring to Johnny, you know that." Roy countered. He tightened his grip on his partner's shoulder. "It was hard to watch."

"More like disgustingly awful." John answered. He threw up his hands, palms out. "Look, I just need to distract myself for an hour and I'll be fine, alright?"

Roy didn't believe him, and he could see John getting frustrated at that fact. Blue eyes full of concern flicked over his partner's expression.

Drunk drivers were far too common in their coverage area for anybody's liking. Car versus car, drunk driver ran a red light over the speed limit and plowed into the driver side of another vehicle. The car hit flipped over and ended up on its backside, with the drunk driver's vehicle coming to rest in the middle of the intersection.

When 51 rolled onto the scene, the drunk driver was stumbling around, having freed himself from his car which had minor front-end damage. He was shouting at people and spitting venom about the other driver to all who could hear him.

John had volunteered to crawl into the other car, to which he found a terrified 22-year old kid jammed inside. Extraction took far longer than anyone hoped, and by the time the kid was freed he had lost a lot of blood.

The ambulance ride didn't fair much better, and the balance of keeping the kid alive was razor-thin. At one point, he reached up and planted a bloodied hand on John's face. Hot tears streaming down the kid's cheek, he sobbed out a weak request to not let him die, then promptly passed out. Not much else could be done, and he was pronounced dead at the hospital.

John had walked out of the hospital looking as if he was ready to find the other driver and punch him in the face. He had time to stew on the ride back to the station, his anger changing into sadness. The engine, having finished up with the scene, practically met them back at the station.

The two shuffled into the rec room, squinting at the light coming from the countertops. John looked over to see Chet fiddling with the television. Shoving his hands in his pockets, the paramedic walked up to him.

"All that's gonna be on is sign-offs." John commented, yawning. "That isn't gonna help me sleep."

"Nah, there's always something on..." Chet responded tiredly.

John watched in half-interest as the lineman flipped through channels. Sign-off, sign-off, sign-off...

"--deserve to be ascended to Heaven when you pass on from the world!"

"Ahh! No!" Hank commented from across the rec room, fully annoyed. "It's too late for religious pushing!"

"Repent my brothers and sisters, or be cast into the pits of--"

Chet flicked over the channel as John crossed his arms.

"I know a person who'd belong there..." he mumbled, making sure no one could hear him. If there was a diety who did pull the strings of life, John hoped the drunk driver would have his snipped from existence.

The paramedic heard Chet make a positive noise, and saw he had managed to find a channel that appeared to be showing an old, black-and-white foreign film.

Roy perked up at hearing the film. "Oh that's in French," he commented. Holding his glass of water in one hand, he grabbed a chair from the table and dragged it across the floor, planting it down.

Chet shrugged in response. "French, English, doesn't matter. I just need something to stare at for a while."

The rest of the crew couldn't agree more. One by one, they all pulled chairs over to the television, planting them down next to each other.

Roy leaned in slightly. Though he knew the film was in French, he barely understood enough to grasp the plot. Instead, he just paid attention to what was happening on screen, moreso than the dialogue. If he could understand what was being spoken, his brain was too weary to care.

A beautifully-dressed woman exited a house, brushing off her dress. She gripped it tightly and gave it a good shake.

She watched with a happy expression as a car drove up the terracotta driveway, stopping just short of the woman. A sharply-dressed man opened the driver door and stepped out, lightly grabbing the woman's hand and giving it a kiss. The women responded by giggling, stepping back and doing a curtsy. The two then embraced in a tight hug.

They both exchanged dialogue, sounding as if they were happy or even relieved to see each other. Laughing once again, the woman gestured for the man to come inside her home. Grabbing a bag from his car, the man closed the door and took the woman's hand.

"Huh," John commented, leading everyone to look his way for a second. "Wonder if this after some war and the guy's returnin' home."

"France was heavily involved in the Second World War." His partner pointed out. "You're probably not far off."

That intrigued the whole crew, who now were slightly more interested in the film. A couple leaned forward while Hank leaned back, folding one leg on top of another.

The two were at a table where food was laid out. The man seemed overcome with joy, wiping away tears. He spoke something, then took a bite of the food, seemingly remembering the taste. They ate and exchanged more dialogue, the woman's expression slowly changing into one of pure admiration.

The man then made an expression of realization. He got up from the table, walked over to his bag and produced a stack of letters. He pulled one off the top of the stack, saying something to the woman. He gave it a quick sniff, to which the woman laughed and spoke as she gestured to the letter.

"Looks like you're right." Chet commented. "Those have gotta be the letters they sent to each other."

"Why'd he...sniff it though?" John commented, eyebrows furrowing.

"What do you mean?" Marco spoke, leaning forward to look at John. "You smell letters sent to me all the time, mi amigo."

Snickers entered the space. John looked as if he wanted to disagree but couldn't come up with any good argument.

Silently, they went back to watching the film. No one really said anything else, all realizing they just needed something to stare at and hopefully fall asleep to peacefully.

Some time later, after the meals were finished and tea was drunk, the man was standing on the front porch, completely satisfied. The woman walked out to join him, grabbing his hand and leaning into him. He responded by kissing her on top of her head. They spoke quietly to each other, the woman looking somewhat sad.

The man said something, and whatever he said made the woman perk up. She looked up at the man with surprised eyes, tears running down her face. The man wiped one of the tears away, then ran a worn finger down her cheekbone.

He spoke something that sounded like a promise, then crouched slightly and leaned in for a kiss. The woman happily replied with her own, and they lovingly embraced.

All of a sudden, the sky lit up and both were surprised. The woman tried to open the door to her home but found it locked. The man laughed, then grabbed the woman and began leading her to his car. He was able to unlock it and they both hopped in the back seats before it began to steadily rain.

The gang watched as the couple embraced each other and spoke more dialogue. The first one to realize something was off was Hank, and he looked over at his crew to see no one else holding the same expression.

"Fellas, I think--" he began, but was shushed by John, who was clearly invested.

The scene abruptly cut to outside the car, where it was raining heavily. The couple disappeared from the view of the car's window, the only thing viewable being a set of arms sticking up.

The scene went back inside the car, where an army medal clanked on the ground of the vehicle, followed closely by a jacket and shirt. The woman was saying something, but sounded like she was crying at the same time.

The second one to realize was Roy, who could practically hear a snap as he came to the conclusion of what kind of "genre" they were watching.

"Uh..."

Multiple clothes were dropped, as the scene cut back to outside the car. Though hard to see through the rain, the car seemed to be rocking.

"Aw man!"

"C'mon, what!?"

"Dios mio!"

"Kelly, where did--how did you find this!?" Hank gestured hard to the screen. "This is something that's allowed on TV!?"

"Cap, the only other thing on is religious stuff!" Chet countered. "I think this is the lesser of two evils."

The only one not reacting was John, who rested his chin on his hand. He tried to ignore everyone as he continued to pay attention to the film. John watched as the scene cut back into the car, the sound of heavy breathing being muffled slightly by the downpour.

He raised an eyebrow as he realized everyone had stopped complaining and was looking at him.

"What? Wha-I-do?" He questioned, pulling his head back up from its resting spot.

The genuine confusion on his face caused everyone to break into hard laughter. They all needed it after the last run

"Uncorrupted soul!" Chet wiped away a tear from laughing so hard.

John was still confused, until his partner leaned in and whispered something to him. His expression changed instantly.

"What!? That's what they're--!" He looked horrified, to which everyone started back up their laughter.

John looked around, a smile slowly growing on his face. He stifled a laugh through his nose before losing the battle and joining in with everyone. He could mourn and be angry tomorrow--those emotions could wait. For now though, he embraced the much-needed humor from the crew.

#emergency!#writblr #writers of tumblr #writing #writers on tumblr #writers community #creative writing

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siegelst · 3 years

Text

Anonymous asked [

Curiosity - Passage of time [ Day 30 - escape] by Anonymous

Rated Explicit Mature 18+

clothes kink, major size kink, voice kink, karl has part lycan in him, scent-marking, tits, Karl's new roommate tries to escape.

warning: don’t know German but using google instead, sorry.

Day 30 - Escape

"Foreigners seem to have broke in your factory." said mother Miranda. I scoff at this siting back with legs spread out, puffed a cigar. A faint echo of panic went through me. But I had a lie ready to recited. Believe in the lie. It’s been a month since that happened and now she discovers it. "Why haven't you alerted me of these people?"

"Cause it’s very easy. They all dead! They f*cken died the day they broke into my factory." I barked, waving around my cigar in my left hand. "I would think super size bi^ch would have said something after i left their bodies outside her door,"

"Only 1 out of the 5 you gave me was good." said super size bi^ch.

"Oh? No thank you for me?" I sneered back, leaning forward.

"I thought there were 6?" muttered fish freak.

"You'll can't have all the fun! I wanted fun. So I used the last one before she met her end to Sturm." I gloat as i sit back, blew smoke before saying "She screamed wonderfully."

"Ugg you horrible disgusting man thing." She screeched. I rolled my eyes as i puffed my cigar. As if she wasn't taking in maidens in to do live experiments and have them bleed dry for her wine. At least when i do experiments they are dead subjects. Device on me, made a noise. Motherf*cker. The meeting didn't end until 20 minutes later.

female p.o.v.

After managing to pick the lock, I started for the elevator before studying the map of the factory. I went for the stairs that went down. I ran into some rooms, some had medical tables. having no idea where i was even if i had a map with me. I get lost easily. If i find more stairs i get out of here right?

The factory was noisy and the temperature was getting hot humid. An Hour later i was still going through random halls. 30 minutes later i’m falling into a pit full of metal scraps. I climbed through the wreckage before finding a ladder high up. I had to jump to the first bar before pulling up and walked along the metal beam. To find a landing with a machine with a level on it. I pushed it down. Nothing happened. Darn. Must not be enough energy.

I found another walk beam that connects to main flooring. 20 minutes later i was in end of hallway before I looked down to see a bars blocking a tunnel that could be moved. After pulling i finally get it to move before crawling through the cobwebs tunnel. I hear static as if from out of tune radio as i pulled myself out. Ending up in a narrowed hall.

"Oh Buttercup, you better not be escaping. I will find you." Oh no i thought he was gone for the day. As i crept toward other end of hall, go through another room, to see one his creation to be laying on table behind cage fence. I couldn't get through. "Best to turn yourself in and no one gets hurt"

Maybe i could break down the cage fence. Or go back into the tunnel. a snicker was heard. "You're lost again, buttercup?"

I went back through the tunnel before going down a hallway. Crap, didn't i go through here before? I’m back in the rooms where medical tables at again, second guessing myself. I open 1 door to see the walls littered with various sharp knives and saws before closing it. "You going in circles, darling. You're lost! admit it!"

"Shut up" I muttered as I started to try any door to get away. A booming laugh echo though the speakers. I took too many turns and find myself falling falling down until hitting cold water.

I gasped & cough after resurfacing. It was dark where I’m at. I find stable ground to pull myself out of the water and looked up to see how far I fallen. pretty dam* far apparently. Looks like I’m at rock bottom. I didn’t hear boss over the speakers. Maybe the speakers don’t reach down here? walked some steps away before remembering i did have my phone on me. turning on the flashlight feature - i moved it around to see where i was. Seems like these metals were abandon and i could see a old motorbike connected to a tank wheels, but didn’t seem to be finished yet. I moved around some more before accidentally bump into a metal contraption. Stepping back and walking around it i could make out that the metal contraption was a metal horse. Now that is neat and pretty. if only boss makes something like this instead of using dead bodies.

I turn around the humongous room before pausing to see shoes. for a second i thought it was my boss. but noticing that the shoes look old, ripped, and way bigger than his, and hearing a animal growl got my heart in my throat. Moving the light up up up to barely see a hairy man with the wildest mane of a lion that been fried from the snow. I gulped and started backing up. I barely make out the sharp fangs, canines, the ripped clothes and the blood splatter on him and the gigantic hammer he was holding only shown slightly when reflected from the light cause the flashlight can only go so far. The dude looks to be 13 ft tall. I met my first lycan.

The lycan picked me up in one hand, looked back to see the floor getting further further away, as i turn back to be inspected by the lycan. i raised my arms to cover my face. hearing the loud sniffing sounds filled my ears before we were interrupted by a voice.

“Now now Urias, don’t eat her.” said my boss, his voice dripping like hot caramel, as lights began to flicker on. I see the lycan clearer and more terrifying, see metal scraps floating around the room and see. . . my boss - using the metal scraps to walk down to us like a escalator. I glanced at the lycan as if to say ‘You seeing what i’m seeing?’. the lycan gave the an unimpressed look. Boss landed on the ground, walking towards us, talking lower, his eyebrows raised up slightly. “Give her to me Urias. Now.”

There seem to be a warning in the way he spoke that line. If i had looked around I would noticed something was aiming at the lycan. but was too busy looking at the teeth on the guy. they were smeared with blood. The lycan didn’t want to for some odd reason. I’m cold from the water being held up 12-13 feet in the air by a lycan and I’m tired, and my shock is almost over so i could scream anytime. I covered my face again as the lycan went near to sniff at me again before feeling something run up my face quickly, warm wet. . . . did the lycan just licked me?? Feeling i was being lowered before boss snatch me back, shoving me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. was it me or did he sighed in relief? nah my tired mind just playing tricks on me. “Thank you Urias. Go back to your den.”

He turned away to walk somewhere. I push on his back to glanced back at the large lycan, he was still standing there and the hammer was huge, dripping with blood against the floor. sh*t maybe boss was worried about the lycan eating me.

I was back at square one in the cell as boss threw me onto the old mattress. Leaning over me, his hand grip my face, him furious.

"You’re dam* lucky that Urias didn’t see you as wolf chow, Buttercup.” He hissed at me. His forearm was hot against my wet cloths. “Otherwise I be mopping up your remains of your bones if it wasn’t.”

A metal chain cuff clicked my ankle. He pulled me right up against him my body leaving the bed slightly. “How the F*ck did you get out?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, giving him the look of ‘I ain’t telling you.’. Next thing i know i was, thrown over his thighs - his thighs against my stomach and felt a hard smack on my backside. D-did he just spank me?? once the shock of him spanking me I start to yell and struggling but he wasn’t budging. He was yelling in German.

Heisenberg. p.o.v.

The bi*ch brought this on onto herself. i thought as I laid a harsh hand against her cloth backside. “Du undankbare Schlampe, du hättest getötet werden können von Urias. Oh, jetzt bist du wütend? naja ich bin es auch. Hör auf herumzuschlagen, Scheiße.”

Finally i get to see my new roommate mad. she was drench from her trip in the water channel, wetting my clothes in result of it. Her cloths sticking to her like second skin leaving nothing to my imagination. view of her nipples perked through her thin layer of tank top and my button up shirt dripping with excess water onto the cell floor. I pulled her back by her hair to drag her up to see if she’ll tell me. she shook her head. Darling i could do this all day. I felt myself stiffen. Her cries and angry shouts means nothing.

Knowing where she was roughly when she fell, still didn’t stop my heart skip in panic. Arriving to sight of her in the hands of a12 ft lycan in the air, water glistening on her skin, her collarbone, neck, face, her tits tightening due to the cold, practically begging to be touch, and seeing Urias taking an interest in her was enough for me to start sweating. Of course she runs into the tallest lycan there is.

Her shocked face was barely make out with Urias hand snaked around her middle easily. F*ck even I was getting nervous. Urias licking her was a heart-stopping - almost had me shoot a rod between the bunny and the giant wolf. as he lowered the lass back to me, gave me huge relief she was back to me unharmed. her wet body bumping against my back, shoulders and chest as i stomped back to the cell was torture. I was brought to present as her finally breaking, sobbing over my lap. I felt myself twitch.

“How the F*CK did you get out?” I growled, my hand cupping her under her chin to raise her up. I feel burn of her skin, my forearm brush against her tits briefly, making my cock jump in interests.

“Bobby pin.” she hiccuped, trying not to cry in front of me. I glanced down toward the door of the cell, and sure enough see a non-metal bobby pin on the ground.

I shoved her off my lap, her hitting to cold cell floor, another chain attached to her other leg, her cold body shaking. I nudge her so she lay on her back, and pressed my shoe lightly onto the side of her stomach. She looked up at me in daze confused as she glanced at my shoe worriedly, her body displayed for me. before I removed my foot.

“Better get comfortable Buttercup” I said, as I stood, walked out of the cell. “You going to be here for a while.”

Closed the cell, after obtaining the bobby pin and walked out of the room, ignoring her yapping, I have business to take care of.

translation:

You ungrateful bi*tch, you could have been killed by Urias. oh now you're angry? well so am I. Quit thrashing around, f*ck

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #curio

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lucy-the-cat · 3 years

Text

Lover’s Curse Chapter Two - The Queen of Pawns

Content Warning: Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Intent

Mare

They didn’t save me.

I stare listlessly at the food on my plate. My arvens brought it to me an hour ago, muttering curses after I shattered the accompanying glass. If only they missed a shard.

Maven is always near me now, perched at the doorway or pacing at the window. He almost lost me. He already lost his mind. And if I play my cards right, he’ll lose his war, his throne, and his life.

Empty victories.

“Eat.”

I burrow under the covers, closing my eyes. Hunger gnaws my insides, but it doesn’t move me. My bones ache, my heart cries, my blood burns. What’s another layer of pain, if it will make it all end?

“Eat.”

“Choke on Farley’s boot.”

“Eat or I will make you.” He rips the blanket away. “You’re not dying.”

I screech, cackling, shrieking, and sobbing as he clutches his ears. “That’s great. Tell another.”

“You’re not dying.”

“Oh, colors.” I wheeze. “Too good. You’re killing me, Maven. You’re kill--”

He pulls me against his chest, trembling. “I’ll hold you down if I have to. I’ll hold you against the wall and force you to chew and swallow until I trust you will do it without me. Is that what you want?”

“I’m so fragile. You’d probably break me.”

He grips me tighter. “Samson. Don’t make me--”

“Do it. I fucking dare you.” I haul him down until our noses touch, until he has nowhere to look but my eyes. “Let a whisper into my head again. Let him scrape into my skull until I can’t tell what is him and what is me. Let me become a walking corpse. Sound familiar?”

I’ve never seen him cry before.

“Please.” He traps me in his gaze. “Don’t do this.” Tears splatter onto my cheek. “Don’t kill yourself to spite me. You’re worth so much more than that.”

I want to throw the words back at him. He’s bled all the worth out of me. Why shouldn’t I kill myself?

I’m killing myself.

HOLY SHIT I’M KILLING MYSELF

Why am I framing this as his victory? I’m sure he’ll be very sad, but I’ll be dead. Dead! I won’t see my family. I won’t see Cal. I won’t get to watch Maven suffer, so why the hell am I doing this?

My life is my own. No one can take it from me.

Not even myself.

My body shakes, and I lunge for the fork. I don’t taste the food before swallowing, nearly choking in my haste. Hungry. Colors, I’m hungry.

Maven backs away to the door, fumbling for the handle. “Get some rest.”

I give him the finger.

He leaves, and I scream, so loud my Arvens tell me to shut up. I polish off the rest of the plate, regretful I spurned the water.

I shatter it against the wall.

I eat.

I sleep

I count 823 ceiling tiles.

I don’t stare at the door and will him to enter. I don’t imagine conversations with him, examining what pieces I’ve gathered to predict his reactions. I don’t want to know where he is, what made him lose interest and condemn me to rot.

I can’t be that desperate.

Screw it. I am.

“Hey, Egg.” I tap the shoulder of the nearest Arven. “How do I request a visit from His Majesty?”

“My name is--”

“I don’t care.” I try to channel Mareena Titanos, but my voice is too hoarse and flimsy. “I would like an audience with Maven Calore. He won’t object, I’m positive.”

“You’re a prisoner. He’s a king.”

“What’s your point?”

He sighs. “Fine. Don’t whine to me when he refuses.”

“I probably will.”

“Bitch.” He skulks away, disappearing.

It doesn’t take long for footsteps to come, halting and unsteady. Maven creaks the door open. “What do you want? I have a meeting in twenty minutes.”

“I’m bored. Entertain me.”

He grits his teeth. “Mare, if boredom is your biggest problem--”

“My biggest problem’s the searing agony of dying from silent stone, but I’ve accepted you’re not gonna do anything about that, soooo . . . “

Pause. “How about chess?”

“That move’s illegal.” Maven restores my rook to its previous position. “As I’ve said fifteen times. Really, Mare. I expect better cheating from you.”

“Says you.” I fold my arms. “There’s no way I lost twelve games.”

“Says the rules.”

“You set the rules on fire!”

“By accident.”

“Sure.”

“They were bone-dry! I couldn’t help it.” He makes a face. “Like you’ve never incinerated a rulebook before.”

“I guarantee I haven’t.” I slide my bishop six spaces, knocking his queen over.

“That’s ill--”

“No. No.” I snatch his queen from the board, scowling. “You’re messing with me. Bishops move on a diagonal. You not liking it doesn’t make it cheating.”

“I’m king. It’s illegal if I say so.” Colors, he’s insufferable.

I chortle. “Only knaves cheat at casual games. Also, you lose.” I mark the first tally under my name, giddy. “I stole your king.”

Maven glances down at the board, corner piece suddenly absent. “Excuse me?”

“I plucked it while I grabbed your queen. My queen now, I suppose.”

He extends a hand. “Another round?”

“As long as you stop lying about the rules.”

“Me? Lie?” Maven laughs. “Never.”

We trade captured pieces back to each other, one eye to the board and another on our opponent as we reset. This isn’t fun. It’s unpleasant, frustrating, anxious to a near unbearable degree. But there’s a thrill, a richness to sparring with him, and the recognition unsettles me.

“My birthday’s coming up.”

“You’ll be one year closer to death. An event worth celebrating.”

He moves his pawn two spaces ahead. “Did you get me anything?”

I slide mine one space. “I have so many opportunities to go shopping.”

“Were you worried about money? The Crown will cover it.” A few moves, and he claims my pawn. “It’s the thought that counts. Mull it over a few days, and tell the guards what you have in mind. Make it good.”

My knight leaps over my pawn to claim his. “What.”

“You said you were bored.”

“Bored, not masochistic.” Another pawn falls to his rook. “That’s your business.”

“A business we share. C’mon.” His expression turns mischievous, unwavering as my bishop claims his rook. “It’s an opportunity to show your affection.”

“Would a gold plaque labeled ‘Fuck you’ be too much?”

His queen enters the ring. “How tame. You’re more creative than that.”

“Am I?” My pawns chase it across the board. “Considering how often you visit me, I assumed I’d grown dull.”

Pieces cluster around his king. “Never.”

I don’t have a chance to respond. The door opens as his queen claims my bishop, and Iris pokes her head in. “There you are. You had a meeting four hours ago, and you never showed up. I had to conduct in your place.”

Maven jolts. “Four hours? That can’t be right.”

“You were also to discuss war strategy with your generals, which you never did.” Iris steps closer. “Furthermore, there are two large stacks of documents on your desk which require your signature. Do you expect me to run this country by myself?”

I sweep his side of the board. “I win.”

Iris twitches. “Do not tell me you were playing a child’s game.”

“Hey, now.” I put up a hand. “It’s a very sophisticated, super mature--”

“I’m allowed the occasional break.” Maven packs the pieces in the box, barely looking at me. “I’ve been overworking myself for weeks. I needed a few hours to unwind.”

“A few hours?” Her gaze flickers to me. “Hm. Children do love to play with their pets.”

His hand lingers on my glass. “She’s not a pet.”

“Would you rather I called her your whore?”

It shatters.

There was no malice in her eyes, no jeer to her tone. “Would you? I find it crass, but men have strange tastes. Especially you.”

“I would rather you called her nothing at all.”

Iris takes my hand, curtseying. “Nice to meet you, Nothing-At-All.”

Maven grits his teeth, stepping into the hallway. “I have business to attend to.”

She doesn’t follow. With a hand, water sweeps across the floor, gathering all the glass shards in a sphere of pain. “So it has teeth after all.”

No anger. No hostility. No hatred.

I’ve never met a person more terrifying.

Iris chuckles. Then she leaves, taking the shattered glass with her.

I did not intend to make Maven neglect his duties. I did not consider how busy his schedule must be, how many hours it must take to run a country. But now there is a tension between him and Iris.

I forged this alliance. I can make it burn.

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kirieshhhka003 · 3 years

Note

I just wanted to say I love your writing a lot already. Would you be willing to do a yandere Illuso? If you need a prompt from that list I really liked “Killing for you is my favorite hobby”. That’d be a real interesting prompt for any of La Squadra! Thank you in advance ❤️

Thank you for your support and request, sweetie💚

Prompt 19: “Killing for you is my favourite hobby.”

Pairing: Illuso x reader

Warnings: gore, yandere behavior

Killing for you is my favorite hobby

You were sitting on a ground, your face was covered in tears and blood. You were watching your always kind and amiable boyfriend tormenting a corpse of a poor guy - well, that what remained of him. You couldn’t move a muscle, all you were able to do is quietly sobbing and begging god to end this madness up.

How did you end up like this?

It was a great day, you woke up in a surprisingly great mood, you were full of energy and strength for a new day. After taking a shower you decided to surprise your boyfriend with his favorite meal. You got to cooking and next few hours you spend by chopping vegetables, mixing ingredients, frying and baking. You tried to cause as little noise as possible, so you won’t wake up your boyfriend. And finally, your culinary masterpiece was ready so you decided that it’s time for your beloved to wake up.

- Honey, wake up, breakfast is ready and waiting for you. - You softly whispered in his ear while gently stroking his back. A young man slightly opened his right eye and looked at you kinda disgruntledly. For a few minutes he was just laying in your shared warm bed, enjoying a caress you were giving him, and when his mind was able to think properly, he asked:

- Why did you wake up so early? - you could hear a note of discontent in his voice, but moment later his tone switched to sweet and gentle, he looked at you lovingly and asked with a happy smile - What did you cook? - he looked like a fat lazy cat, waiting for his owner to feed him already, this sudden change made you chuckle a little.

- Lasagna, and you better hurry up, or it’ll completely cool - you answered and slightly pinched his cheek.

After breakfast you both, full and satisfied, decided to watch TV. As usual, there was nothing interesting to watch and Illuso was just mindlessly changing channels in an attempt to find something worthy. You were so bored, and a sudden idea came up to your mind.

- Hey, Illuso - you said in a slow drawl and ran your fingers through his soft brown hair.

- Whaaat - he replied in a same whining way, accepting your caress. He leaned towards your face and kissed you softly, what almost made you forget what you wanted to say.

- Let’s go for a walk, please? I’m so bored, I wanna go out somewhere nice. Maybe we’ll have a date, huh? - you said kinda clingy, slightly whimpering and looking at him with a puppy dog eyes. Your boyfriend gave you a “are you kidding me” look, you could see that he didn’t expect this question. He looked back at the TV screen and pondered about something for a while. When you gave up on the idea of taking a walk, Illuso said:

- You know, why not? It’s boring to stay at home all day long and do nothing. Moreover, an idea with date is cool, whe didn’t go out for a while. What do you wanna go? - your mood jumped up immediately, a happy wide smile appeared on your face.

- Shopping! - you shouted and hugged your boyfriend tightly. - Shopping! Shopping!

- Why am I not surprised? - replied Illuso and hugged you back.

***

Everything went well, you bought a lot of different stuff, your wardrobe was waiting for a few new things. It was a wonderful day, you two had a lot of fun. The evening was coming on and you decided to come home. You planned to buy some snacks on the way back and have a movie night.

Suddenly you heard male voice referring to you:

- Hey babe! Yeah, I’m talking to you! You wanna hang out with me tonight, huh? C’mon, you won’t regret it, I promise! - You turned around to see a person who was talking to you. It was a young man, maybe the same age as Illuso, he was slightly drunk, but you could see that he really meant what he said. You looked at Illuso but it seemed like he didn’t even notice someone talking to you.

- I-I’m sorry, but I’m with my boyfriend, so can you leave us? - You said stuttering, your voice was trembling.

- Boyfriend? This guy? Oh, c’mon, look at me, I’m way better than he is! So, let’s go with me! - He reached his hand to wrap it around your shoulder, but on the halfway it was intercepted by Illuso. He looked at the stranger with a purest smile on his face and said:

- Oh really? Well, I’d like to go with you too. What is that? You don’t like this idea? Well, if so, I want to show you something, let’s go! - Illuso grabbed both you and this guy and led you two somewhere. It took a few moments for man to realize what happened, but it was too late.

Suddenly you realized that something was off about this place, you were in a downtown area, but there were no people around. But how? Just a moment ago those streets were full of passers by.

- The fuck you want from me, you weirdo?! - A young man wrenched his hand out from Illusso’s grip and stepped back, ready to fight. When he looked down on his fists he noticed that something was wrong.

- What? Where the hell my left hand gone? - A few moments later a piercing cry split the silence of an empty streets. Dark, almost black blood gushed out of his wound, the man fell on his back and started to roll on the ground in pain and agony. You looked up on Illuso and saw that he was holding something in his hand, when you looked closer you understood that that was this guy’s missing arm.

A huge lump appeared in your throat, tears started to fall down your cheeks. Illuso came closer to man, swirling on the ground, and stepped on his chest.

- So you’re saying that you’re better than me, huh? Well, this whole situation proves that you were wrong - a smug smirk appeared on his face as he moved his foot from guy’s chest to his neck and than shifted all his weight on this foot. You could hear this poor guy’s bones cracking under the pressure that Illuso caused.

You backed from them two but your trembling legs weakened and you fell right on the ground. This poor guy was still alive when Illuso tore out his other arm. And again, and again, and again, he was tearing his body apart like a butcher carving up a carcase. Illuso didn’t even try to be tidy - he was covered in blood from top to toe, some of it got on your face and mixed with tears.

- See? That happens to everyone who gets in our way. But you don’t have to worry about that, I’ll continue to take care of it by myself. And, to be honest, killing for you is my favourite hobby - Illuso smiled softly at you and returned to the deed.

You were sitting there, covered in blood and street dust, trembling from cold and fear, quietly sobbing and watching your always kind and amiable boyfriend tormenting a corpse of a poor guy - well, what remained of him.

Masterlist

It was very hard for me to write all this violence scenes, so this was the first and the last time I wrote gore

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swaps55 · 3 years

Text

5 Favorites

5 favorite snippets from 5 reasonably recent stories. Or whatever. Rules are mere suggestions.

Tagged by @nug-juggler. Thank you! I love sharing snippets.

Tagging @pigeontheoneandonly, @shadoedseptmbr, @forlornmelody, @nightmarestudio606 and anyone who’s interested, no obligations!

1. From Cantata, Chapter 3 – Welcome to the Fire:

Shepard halts, pivots, corona blazing forth once more. He says something Kaidan doesn’t understand, but the mercenary pauses, then chortles and breaks into a sprint.

Anyone in their right mind would have quailed at the sight of a charging krogan. Shepard grins.

It’s feral.

Confident.

And utterly unafraid.

His fists curl. The gravity well somersaults as Shepard channels a maelstrom of dark energy. Kaidan sucks in a sharp breath, the sheer force of it enough to make him dizzy.

The krogan’s shotgun blares. Every hair on Kaidan’s arms stands on end as Shepard forms a wall of shearing mass effect fields and slams it into the krogan, shoulder jerking as his kinetic barriers absorb the full brunt of the shotgun blast.

The krogan bellows as the shearing fields chew through him. The shotgun drops from rigid fingers and clatters to the ground. Shepard races forward, own shotgun booming as fast as he can pull the trigger. When it overheats he casts it aside, and to Kaidan’s sheer horror, attacks the krogan with his bare hands.

He lands one hit, then two, using his smaller size and quickness to his advantage in ways Kaidan had only dreamed of when he and Shepard had their impromptu sparring session a week ago. Still, the krogan nearly makes it back to his feet before Shepard seizes the barrel of the massive shotgun, jerks it up into the krogan’s throat, then flips it around and fires point blank into the krogan’s uncovered head. Blood, grey matter and bone spray outward. The recoil kicks hard into Shepard’s shoulder, the same one that had already bled off the shotgun pellets.

Holy fuck.

2. From “The Words That Change Us”

Kaidan falls silent. Fuck his implant. Fuck the faulty wiring in his head. Fuck not remembering to bring his own damn meds. If only Anderson could see this. Keep Shepard on his feet my ass. Can’t even keep myself on my feet.

“Anderson thanked me today,” Kaidan says, cracking an eye open. Every ship in the Alliance is practically a darkroom. Why the hell is Arcturus so bright? He sucks air in through his teeth. “Can’t figure out why.”

Shepard gives him a bemused look. “No wonder you have a migraine.”

“Stop trying to be funny,” Kaidan grunts. “It gives me a migraine.”

“I’m delightfully funny,” Shepard informs him, “which you might notice if you weren’t so busy thinking yourself into a migraine.”

Kaidan tries to laugh, but immediately regrets it. Shepard tightens his grip on Kaidan’s arm.

“See? Funny.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“Quit noticing."

“Shepard.” It comes out as a mumble, and the way Shepard’s fingers dig into his forearm before relaxing suggests he’s listening now. “He said I keep you on your feet. Why would he say that?”

Shepard’s brow furrows. Instead of answer, he gets to his feet and pulls Kaidan back to his. “How about we get the icepick out of your head, and then talk about this.”

“No. If we talk about it now you’ll take pity and actually give me an answer.”

Shepard huffs, grips Kaidan’s arm and resumes course, footsteps slow and steady.

“I didn’t do anything to help you earn this,” Kaidan persists. “Why does he think I did?”

More silence. More steps. Each footfall ricochets off the deckplates, pricking at the base of Kaidan’s skull. Where the fuck is the airlock? It feels like they’ve been walking for hours.

“You’re stable ground,” Shepard says at last.

Stable ground. Maybe if his head wasn’t throbbing so hard he could figure out what the hell that means.

“You don’t…want anything from me,” Shepard continues. His voice is small, uncertain, as though now that he’s voiced the thought aloud he might find out it isn’t true.

It isn’t true.

You. I want you.

3. From Sonata, Chapter 10 - Unsteady

There are more well-dressed people in this one room than Joker has seen in his entire lifetime. It should be his worst nightmare, but he’s actually having fun. Turns out Tali has an exceptional gift for making unbearable social occasions bearable.

“And what about her?” Joker asks, pointing to a woman who looks like a canary covered in taffeta.

Tali leans against the table beside him and tilts her head, the purple and black sequined scarf that Mrs. Alenko had given her for the evening catching in the bright lights of the ballroom.

“Hmmm. A widower. Discovered her husband of more than thirty years had gambled away their entire fortune, leaving her penniless. She is here to mourn—not him, but his brother. The man she was truly in love with. She thought he did not love her back, but the truth is that he was too afraid to tell her. After his brother’s death, he swore he would, but he went down with the Cairo before he had the chance.”

“Damn, Tali, that’s dark,” Joker says with a chuckle. “You got a happy one? How about that guy?” He points to a random stranger who’s sipping a glass of wine and laughing too hard.

She swirls the liquid in her glass. Forget the geth. This is where she really shines.

“He professed his love to…” she scans the room. Eventually she points at another well-dressed man, who looks absolutely no different from any of the rest as far as Joker is concerned. “That man over there. They are desperately in love, but he,” she points again at the new guy, “is afraid of his feelings. He has a dark past, and doesn’t want to drag his true love down with his demons.”

“Happy, Tali. I was looking for happy.”

She raises her glass. “A few spins on the dancefloor and he’s going to realize that pushing him away will only snap them back together. Like quarks.”

Joker clinks his glass against hers. “That’s my girl.”

4. From Fugue, Chapter 4 – This Hole You Left

But while most of the galaxy is preparing to mourn Commander Shepard, the soldier standing next to him might be the only person he knows who’s grieving for Sam. Anderson swirls the remaining liquid in his glass.

“He was the most reckless SOB I’ve ever met,” Anderson says, watching a hanar drift along one of the intact pathways below them. “I’m pretty sure half the shit he pulled over the years was just to piss me off.”

Alenko raises an eyebrow ever so slightly in surprise, but doesn’t turn his head. “He’s always at his best when the plan goes to hell.”

“Since he was a kid,” Anderson agrees, not missing the fact that Alenko had referred to him in the present tense. “First time I ever laid eyes on him he was four. He’d wandered away from Daniel on Arcturus and he called in the cavalry to look for him. You know where I found him?”

Alenko shakes his head.

“In a fountain, playing with a model ship. I asked him what the hell his spaceship was doing in the water. He said, ‘I’m about to find out.’”

Alenko’s mouth curves in a brittle smile. “I didn’t know you knew him that young.”

“I doubt he remembered,” Anderson says. “His father and I were good friends. I dropped in on occasion while he was growing up.” Before Shepard was a soldier. Before he was the Butcher of Torfan or the Savior of the Citadel. Back when he was still Sam, all knees and elbows, so desperate to please he couldn’t sit still.

Anderson still misses that kid.

5. From “The Way Back”

“You have a gun, Shepard, and it shoots mass-accelerated projectiles a hell of a lot more efficiently than you can shoot yourself. That was a titanic amount of energy you put out. How in the hell do you justify the cost of that on your own body?”

“Because it saved your life,” he snaps, dropping the barrel extension onto the bench with a clatter. “She had your head in her crosshairs, and I put her the fuck down. So yeah, it was worth the cost.”

Kaidan falls silent.

Shepard shoots him a reproachful look. “You know, I didn’t miss your fucking lectures.”

Kaidan holds his gaze, retort right on the tip of his tongue. Shepard shouldn’t need a lecture to know that fucking with his own mass as a combat tactic was reckless, stupid, and above all, unnecessary. But he did need one. And someone willing to get in his way long enough to do it.

Wasn’t that part of what had always made them so good together? Shepard charging into a china shop like a bull, with Kaidan standing at the door waving his arms? Shepard would run through him as often as he stopped or swerved, but no matter how it ended Kaidan was there to help him pick up the pieces.

He softens. “Yeah, well, I did miss what a complete idiot you are sometimes. You could have, just, I don’t know. Knocked me to the ground. Or knocked her to the ground. Using her own mass.”

Shepard’s brow furrows and he opens his mouth to protest before he sighs in defeat. “Yeah. Ok. That probably would have worked, too.”

Kaidan’s smile deepens. “You always did prefer theatrics out in the field.”

“Me?” Shepard huffs and pokes at the pieces of the Carnifex, chin low to hide his own smile. “Okay, maybe I occasionally enjoy a small flair for the dramatic.”

“Small. You call turning yourself into the most impractical mass-accelerated weapon I could conceive of small.”

Shepard’s smile turns into a smirk. “Say whatever you want. But just imagine being that sniper getting an eyeful of me coming right at her. That’s the kind of fear of god she’s not going to forget anytime soon.”

“You put a shotgun round point blank into her head. She forgot it pretty quick.”

#snippet #mshenko #mememe #tried to pick snippets with a variety of flavors #combat!#pining!#banter!#angst!#biotics!#oh my!

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charlthotte · 3 years

Text

Breaking Through The Iron Wall - Aone Takanobu x Reader

Chapter 10

Arising on the Saturday morning, the atmosphere rang out with the sounds of the late morning. I never really awoke at such a late time, but at that moment my body and mind were in a rather large need of energy, as I had been worrying about our match - which on that day, was less than ninety-six hours away. I must had slept for at least ten hours, a far contrast to the miniscule amount of sleep I usually got.

After making my way to the dining table, my dad greeted me with a warm and welcoming smile, my mother nowhere to be seen. Once again, it wasn't surprising, just disheartening. "Good morning, (Y/N)." He declared, sipping on his mug of coffee.

"Morning, Dad." I said unenthusiastically.

"What's the matter? You never wake up this late." He looked me in the eyes, genuine concern laced in his face.

"I guess I'm just a bit nervous about going to Tokyo." I suspired, hanging my head in my hands.

"(Y/N)... You'll be completely fine - you're only spending one night there." He reached out and patted me on the head, something he had been doing since I was a toddler.

"I guess so... Thanks, Dad."

Soon after that, my dad started droning on about how he'd been getting a large influx of customers in the last few days, he seemed so excited that his business was finally going somewhere. It was quite a nice sight seeing him in such a purely happy mood. Quite quickly, I grew uninterested in his chattering, so when the opportunity struck, I sneaked away from the dining table and rapidly trundled up the stairs towards my room. I didn't really feel like making an effort with my outfit so I just threw on the first items of clothing I could find. They weren't exactly the most fashionable combination, but at that moment in time - I wasn't in the right frame of mind to care. I studied for a while, rerunning over the topics that I wasn't one-hundred percent confident in.

Once the clock hit half-past three, I decided to end up my studying portion of the day. My throat was rather dry at that point, so the most logical thing to do was to head downstairs for a glass of water, so I did just that. However, when I opened my bedroom door - a little piece of paper fluttered down from it. It had obviously been written by my dad, my eyes flicked across the paper; smiling at the little message he had left for me.

'I've just left for work a little early, but I didn't want to disturb you. See you later. P.S. Have a good time with Aone today. :)'

As always, he had left a small smiley face at the end of his message - it was kind of a signature for him. But of course, he had to mention Aone, just like he did in nearly every conversation we had. He seemed quite supportive of our friendship, but just sometimes, his supportiveness was a little too over zealous.

Since I had nothing else to do, I turned the television on with a swift flick of the remote, however - there didn't seem to be any programs that interested me. Most of them were generic, run of the mill shows - most of which had been previously aired. I continued channel surfing until I came across a history documentary about Isabella, the 'she-wolf' of France. History was always rather interesting to me - as every little thing in the past had lead to the exact circumstances of the present day. I always imagined that if one thing in the past had gone down a different path, everything as we knew it today could have been completely different.

It only took a few minutes for me to become fully engrossed in the television, I couldn't notice or become distracted by seemingly anything. I barely even took notice of the ringing of my doorbell, possibly it rang around three separate times before I snapped out of my trance. Immediately, I sprang towards the doorway, almost rushing the twist the keys in the lock - somehow dropping them in the process. I was even close to slamming the door open, trying to greet the visitor as quickly as possible. I knew who the visitors would be, after all - they did come here everyday, my walks with Aone and Shiro were definitely the highlights of my week.

But today, there was only one visitor waiting for me to open the door. Only Aone stood there, his face almost wiped over with the slightest hint of melancholy. I almost crouched down expecting one of Shiro's ecstatic greetings - but all that was next to Aone was a void, completely devoid of Shiro's presence.

"I'm sorry for taking so long, but where's Shiro?" I asked, almost out of breath from my quick dash to open the door.

Aone's eyes almost seemed to prick with the flash of hurt, staying completely silent for nearly a minute - his body tensed up the the point that he looked as if he could snap in half. Every single hair on his head stood on end - perfectly vertical. Something was very blatantly wrong. Right before she whispered, his body shivered - presumably from the cold, but probably from what he was feeling. "...The …Vet..."

My heart skipped a beat upon hearing that, "Oh, Aone... I'm so sorry. Come inside and I'll make you some tea." He quickly obliged himself to my command, dragging his feet behind him, his head hanging low. Almost seeming like an empty vessel as he slumped down into the sofa, letting his entire mass sink into the cushions - he barely moved after that, almost as if he had been petrified.

As I stirred his tea, my hands were almost quivering. The sheer amount of nerves that were tweaking inside of me were indescribable, even though the dog wasn't even my own. Even while I handed the beverage over to him, the liquid swirled around in the mug - threatening to crash over the sides of its confinements. As he took the tea from my hands, the mug began shaking even more. I could see in his eyes just how terrified he was, my mind urged to know the full story. However, I couldn't dare question Aone about him, I was terrified of putting him under more stress - his expression was already pained to a point where it genuinely hurt me.

For what felt like an eternity, I stood inert - at a loss with what to do with myself. Without even giving it a thought, I plummeted down beside Aone, my hands grasping onto his shoulders - the same way he'd comfort me, our eyes deadbolted onto each other.

Giving his shoulders tiny little squeezes, I endeavoured to solace him with my voice, "Aone, I'm confident that Shiro will be absolutely fine, he can get over anything."

Silence was returned to me, he didn't speak nor make any gesture to reply.

"Shiro wouldn't want you to feel like this, he'd want you to feel happy no matter what."

Silence.

"I'm sure you'll be fine - it won't be long until you can see him again - all happy and healthy."

Silence.

"Aone... I'm here if you need anything..."

Everything was silent once again, the air stagnant and melancholy... Until Aone just let his head fall, fall onto my shoulder - feeling tiny little wet patches drop from where his eyes rested. The tiniest sound escaped from his mouth, the most heart breaking sob I had I ever listened to. I just knew that he was trying to conceal the noise, but all to no avail. Almost immediately, my arms wrapped themselves around his broad back, drawing little circles into the cotton of his shirt.

Straight after that, he unmasked all of his pain - tears began cascading from his eyes - the sound of his sobs rising in a rapid crescendo. His whole stoic persona has crashed onto the ground and shattered into millions of pieces, now he was the embodiment of a child whimpering in my arms. The vibrations of his lamentation shook my body to the same rhythm as him. Almost in an instant he wrapped his arms around me, as if he was searching for a way to curtail his pain, he was close to crushing me with his strength - but that wasn’t a problem at that moment in time.

My whole body froze, making me as solid as a diamond. But also flushed with an immense flash of heat, my interior temperature surpassing that of molten lava, wiping the slate of my brain clean. Almost as if I had short circuited right on the spot - the whole world passed us by, leaving me like a stone statue - as if Medusa had just stared at me straight into my eyes.

What seemed like hours flew by, with Aone still a crumpled heap in my arms. His whole weeping session must have exhausted him, gradually his tears grew close to a halt - calming down - if you could describe it as that. It took me a while to realise that he'd fallen asleep with his head still on my shoulder. Yet, his arms still remained wrapped around me, not an inch of strength was lost from his awoken state.

I couldn't move. I knew that if he woke up; he'd snap straight back into his lamentation. Even though I wasn't situated in a comfortable position at all, not once did I shift from that placement.

Several programs ran across the television, with each one passing, the sky grew slightly darker. Not once did Aone stir. As he slept, he almost seemed peaceful. No longer were tears streaming from his eyes, no longer was his breathing at an erratic pace. Once or twice, he even nuzzled his face further into my shoulder - his head almost resting in the crook of my neck, just like a baby. Little by little, signs of being in a dreamlike state exerted themselves from him - he began twitching, along with the movements of his dreams. One twitch in particular was rather violent, jerking him awake. Almost as if he had just been thrust out of the grasps of a nightmare.

He suddenly lurched upright, his eyes wide and worried. They almost had an element of shock in them, as if he was somehow confused about his current situation, after that he quickly shot up to stand on his feet - his flushed with an intense reddish hue. Almost immediately, he edged away from the sofa.

"What's the matter?" I inquired.

Rather than answering my question, he dodged straight around it - only to reply with something completely unrelated... "I'm sorry..." He darted his eyes away from me, trying to find some other object to focus on.

"Hey..." I sighed, moving myself into his line of sight, "There's nothing to be sorry about, you're just worried about Shiro."

Once again, he shifted his eyes away from me - folding his arms over his chest, as if to try and comfort himself. Hearing Shiro's name must have let a painful pang ricochet through him. Obviously uncomfortable, he swivelled around - trying to escape my company.

"Aone... You're not going anywhere without me going with you. You shouldn't be left alone right now." I attempted to keep up with him, eventually making it to the doorway before he could escape. I couldn't let him leave by himself.

He almost pouted as I blocked his exit, along with huffing out like an annoyed child. We stood in silence again, both of us unsure of what to do next, and after what felt like an age - Aone nodded - giving in to me. But after that, the atmosphere grew awkward with the stagnant silence. Desperately, I tried to break it. "...So... Would now be a good time for us to go see him?" I didn't mention Shiro's name in trepidation of upsetting Aone.

Aone stuttered, "I-I think s-so." His words were broken, mimicking the state of his mind. Without saying a word, I acknowledged his statement, grabbing my shoes and jacket - readying myself for the outside world, Aone too.

Somehow I could sense both of our anxiousness, I tried to ameliorate my mental state by taking a deep, deep breath. And with that, we stepped over the threshold to the outside world - ready for any news that could be thrown upon us. But even though we were ready... It didn't mean that the news couldn't break us.

#aone #aone takanobu #aone x reader #aone takanobu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader

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dragonsaphirareads · 4 years

Text

Smithing Hearts

Day 26 of @tsshipmonth2020 Fluffuary

Ship: Analogince

AU: Heartsmith

Word Count: 1821

Summary: Roman is a heartsmith, the best in the business. His secret is that he puts a little of himself into every repair he does. He doesn’t get anything back, until he receives two orders back to back that are unlike anything he’s ever done before.

(Like listening to podfics? You can listen to this oneshot on my YT channel here!)

Virgil clutched his parcel to his chest, hurrying through the busy streets as his eyes darted back and forth. He was looking for a specific shop, one he had only heard about through hushed conversation. It wasn’t a place he had ever wanted to go to, but he couldn’t deny anymore that he needed help.

A small wooden sign hanging over an unassuming door caught his eye, and he double checked that nobody was watching him before he ducked into the shop.

A cheerful bell announced his arrival, and a young man stood up from his workbench to greet him. He had dark skin and messy brown hair, with a smear of something across his forehead.

“H-hello, are you the heartsmith?”

The young man grinned, taking a small bow. “The best around! I’m Roman, how can I help you?”

Virgil tensed - the cheery smile facing him was overwhelming. “W-Well, I... I’m getting married in a few weeks...”

“Oh, really? Well congratulations! That’s wonderful!”

He swallowed, picking at the paper around his parcel. “Y-Yeah, well, it’s... not all that great, actually.”

He set it down, carefully unwrapping the paper and cradling the object inside. Virgil heard the other man draw in a soft breath through his teeth, and he nodded.

“It’s been like this for as long as I can remember... But the cracks have only gotten bigger in the last few months, and I can’t fix them.”

“I see. May I hold it?”

Virgil nodded, handing his broken heart over. “So... do you think you can fix it?”

There was silence as the heartsmith turned it over and over in his hands, gently prodding at the dark cracks that ran through the very center of it. Then he looked up and smiled confidently. “Of course I can! And not to worry, I’ll have it done before your wedding, I guarantee it!”

“Really?! You think you can do it? But it’s been broken forever!”

Roman shook his head. “I’ve never met a heart that I can’t fix! Stop by in a few days and I’ll have it ready for you!”

“T-Thank you, I will!”

Roman got to work as soon as Virgil left. Despite his feigned confidence, he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to meet his promise. He’d fixed a lot of cracked hearts in his time, but this was something entirely different. The heart on his table now was practically in two pieces, held together by pure willpower.

He could only imagine what Virgil had gone through in his life to cause such sizable cracks.

The heartsmith tightened his toolbelt, taking a seat and getting to work. Nothing would get fixed if he just sat there thinking about it, after all!

His shop didn’t have any windows besides the little glass cutout in the door, so he didn’t know what time it was when he heard the door open again. He’d gotten into a rhythm, fixing the smaller cracks that he knew he could fix before tackling the bigger ones.

Roman stood up from his stool, stretching before turning towards the door and greeting the man standing there. He was well-dressed and standing with his back straight - probably from a wealthy family, if he had to guess.

“Welcome! How can I help you?”

The man cleared his throat, setting a small box down on the counter.

“I have heard you are capable of fixing broken hearts, is that correct?”

Roman raised an eyebrow. “That it is! I’m a heartsmith, it’s my job!”

The man swallowed, his eyes darting down at the box on the table. “Are... you able to fix a heart that has never been able to love?”

The heartsmith blinked as the man reached for the box, taking off the lid and carefully lifting the heart inside it. Roman bit his tongue to keep from gasping - how was it possible for a heart to look so dull?

“It has been like this since I can remember. I always thought it would fix itself with time, but I’m getting married soon and it has not changed at all...”

He sighed, clasping his heart over his chest. A small, sad smile graced his lips as he stared at the empty box, his eyes unfocused.

“My fiancee is such a wonderful person... and I want to be able to be a good husband, but I cannot do that if I’m unable to love...”

Roman tried to discreetly wipe away a tear. He was a romantic, and a sucker for the stories that his customers came in with. “I’ll fix it!”

“Y-You’re sure you can?”

Roman bobbed his head. “Yes, I know I can! Please, allow me to help you!”

He nodded, placing his heart back in the box and allowing Roman to take it. “Thank you.”

“Thank me when you come to pick it up! Come by in a couple days and check on it!”

“I will see you then.”

After the man left - he learned that his name was Logan - Roman locked the door to the shop and turned the “Open” sign to “Closed”. He needed all the time he had allotted himself if he was going to fix both of these hearts.

He had to let Virgil’s heart sit - the special glue used in his craft took hours to dry, and he didn’t want to risk breaking it further by handling it before it was done.

Roman set Logan’s heart down on his worktable, spending a minute to observe it. He had seen dim hearts before, during his training with his mentor, but never one as dull as this. Usually, a dull heart was the result of isolation after many years, and only seen in older hearts. But Logan couldn’t be much older than Roman himself, and yet...

Roman sighed, grabbing his tools and setting them to the side, getting them ready. He would be pulling a few long nights to fix it, but he would get it done. He had promised them he would, and Roman didn’t plan on breaking his promises.

The heartsmith was practically asleep at his workbench when Virgil arrived several days after their first meeting. The chiming of the door bell woke him up, and he rubbed at his eyes and smiled sleepily at the worried-looking young man.

“Are you alright?” Virgil asked, and Roman nodded.

“Peachy! I was up late working, but it was worth it.”

Roman grabbed his heart and offered it to him, hearing Virgil gasp audibly.

“No way... how did you do this?! It looks like it’s brand new!”

The heartsmith beamed, a hand over his chest. “I pride myself in my work! I promised you I would fix it, didn’t I?”

“Y-Yeah, but I didn’t think... this is incredible! Thank you!”

Virgil stared unbelieving at his heart, tears in his eyes. Roman smiled, but the door opening behind them took his attention as his other customer walked in.

“Oh, Logan, come in! Perfect timing, I just finished your heart as well!” Roman grinned, running to his workbench and making sure that everything was dry and set.

“...Logan?”

“Virgil? What are you doing here?”

Roman blinked, turning around to see his two customers staring at each other with confusion and a little bit of fear in their eyes. All at once, he realized that they were the “fiancee” they each spoke about.

“I... I wanted to... make sure that I could love you... I’ve been in bad relationships in the past, and they’ve left me unable to trust people... but I wanted to be a good husband! Because... you deserve it...”

Logan reached out and took Virgil’s hand, running his thumb along his knuckles. “And you deserve someone who’s capable of loving you!”

“W-What?”

“My heart... it’s never been able to love... I never thought it was an issue, until I met you. And I didn’t want you to know I had come here, because...”

“Because you both deserve each other.” Roman interjected, handing Logan his heart before stepping back. The minute he saw the brilliant red his heart was glowing, Logan started sobbing.

“Aww, L...” Virgil murmured, pulling his fiancee into a tight hug with tears in his own eyes.

Roman could only stand by and watch as they collected themselves, leaving him with a large sum of cash and an imprint of their smiles in his mind.

After they left, he locked the door behind them and sat down on his stool, reaching for his own heart that was sitting there.

If his mentor was still alive, he knew he would scold him for how he handled the tougher jobs. Roman had always been told to guard his own heart, to not let his feelings get in the way of his work.

He laughed softly, cradling his dimming heart close to his chest. It was laced with cracks large and small, filled with golden glue. “Sorry sir, maybe I wasn’t cut out for this job after all.”

Roman kept the shop closed for a week or so after he fixed Virgil and Logan’s hearts. He had fallen ill from using his own heart to fix theirs, more so than normal since he had fixed two hearts instead of just one.

He took a walk late one night when the streets were mostly empty. The air was clear, and it helped to lift the heaviness in his chest.

There were a few couples walking in the park with him, and there was one he recognized a little too late.

“Roman!” Virgil waved at him, walking hand in hand with Logan directly towards him. Roman quickly looked around for an escape route, but there were no branching paths and he had to accept his fate and face them with a fake smile.

“You two are out late!” He commented lightly.

“As are you. We tried to stop by earlier this week to thank you again for your incredible work, but it seemed like you were closed?” Logan asked.

Roman scratched the back of his neck. “Heh, yeah, I just got a little cold, that’s all!”

Logan hummed, then he and Virgil shared a glance. “I see... well, there was actually something we wanted to tell you, besides thanking you for your hard work.”

“And what’s that?”

Virgil took a slow breath, smiling nervously. “After we met you... neither of us could quite get you out of our heads.”

Roman raised an eyebrow as Logan finished the thought.

“We were wondering... if you might be interested in going on a date with us?”

“But... I thought you were getting married!”

They both smiled. “We are. But there’s room for one more... if you want.”

Roman had to let it sink in for a moment, but he didn’t take longer than he needed to agree.

Somehow, the weight in his chest seemed to disappear the moment he started walking side by side with the two of them.

#analogince #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #saphira writes ts #saphira writes #tsshipmonth2020

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

Text

COSMIC - S1:E4; Chapter Four, The Body - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Gender Neutral!Reader Series

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘠/𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘥𝘥 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘰��𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧.

WARNINGS: Cursing. Homophobic comments from Tr*y [his in script use of the fa*ry word once]. Reader fucking SNAPS.

||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"Okay, remember, if anyone sees us, look sad."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

'He is still missing, isn't he?'

My thoughts were interrupted by the crackling of the speaker.

"Attention students, there will be an assembly to honor Will Byers in the gymnasium now. Do not go to fourth period."

I looked to the ceiling at the mention of my best friend and by the time I looked ahead, we had made it outside the AV room. Mike was attempting to open the door but it must be locked.

"It's locked." Mike confirmed.

"What?" Lucas asked.

"Hey, El, is there any way for you to open it?" I ask.

Before she could respond, we all jumped at the voice of Mr. Clarke and froze.

"Children," He nodded.

"Hey." Lucas breathed, obviously startled.

"Assembly's about to start."

"We know. We're just, you know..." Mike works a solemn look on his face as he spoke and the others seemed to join in, including me although it wasn't that difficult.

"Upset." Lucas nodded, dropping his nervous smile.

"Yeah, definitely upset," Dustin muttered.

I opened my mouth to speak, but thought better to say nothing at all and even looked down to the ground. Channeling all my emotions from just hours before.

"We need some alone time."

"To... cry." Dustin hesitated.

"Yeah, listen... I get it. I do. I know how hard this is, but let's just be there for Will, huh? And then," Mr. Clarke reached into his pocket and pulled out a key.

He tossed the key to Mike who caught it upon instinct.

"the Heathkit is all yours for the rest of the day. What do you say?"

We all looked to each other, wearing subtle triumphant smirks. It couldn't have been that easy, could it?

Mr. Clarke seemed to finally notice that he had no idea who El was.

"I don't believe we've met. What's your name?"

El seemed shocked and began to say 'Eleven' when Mike panicked and cut in.

"Eleanor! She's my, uh-"

"Cousin!" Lucas jumped in.

"Second cousin," Dustin added.

I started to laugh but caught myself just in time to play it off as a cough. I pretended to clear my throat as I looked to Mr. Clarke who was looking a bit confused.

"She's here for Will's funeral." Mike sighed.

Mr. Clarke seemed content with this answer as he shrugged and turned to her.

"Ah, well, welcome to Hawkins Middle, Eleanor. I wish you were here under better circumstances."

She looked to us and Mike, then turned to Mr. Clarke nodding her head. "Thank you."

A small smile fought its way into my face. She was doing great.

"Uh, where are you from exactly?"

El shook her head, sighing exasperatedly. "Bad place-"

"Sweden!" Dustin cuts in.

"I have a lot of Swedish family."

"She hates it there."

"Cold!"

"Subzero."

Meanwhile, I had fought back another laugh at the whole exchange and I had to play it off as a cough yet again.

"Are you alright, there, Y/n?"

My head snapped up, but luckily I was fairly quick on my feet this time.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I woke up with a fever, haven't been feeling well all morning. But I insisted on coming. For Will." Mr. Clarke seemed satisfied with my answer and dismissed our odd behavior.

"Shall we?"

"Yep!" We all follow Mr. Clarke to the gymnasium in silence.

As we get closer, I can hear the principal speaking from inside.

"At times like these, it is important that we come together as a community. We come-"

"Abort." He whispers, turning to leave.

Thankfully, Lucas stops him and shoved him forward.

"We come together to heal... we come together to grieve..."

As the principle continues his speech, the five of us wander into the bleachers to find a seat.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

While the principal carried on, the five of us all looked to each other, all sharing the same thought.

'We need to get to that radio. And soon.'

"I just want those of you who are having trouble dealing with this tragic loss..."

"Look at these fakers." I heard Mike whisper.

"They probably didn't even know his name till today." Lucas scoffed.

The boys and El seemed quick to follow my gaze because soon enough, we were all leaning over glaring at them.

"Who is interested in this? This is so stupid." He laughed.

I grit my teeth as my vision filled with red.

"Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah..."

"Y/n..." Lucas warned, reaching out for my arm. I wasn't paying attention, but for some reason, I felt his hand leave my arm almost as soon as he grabbed it.

"'Oh, he was such a great student. Oh, he's going to leave a hole in the community.'" Troy mocked, beginning to fake sob.

I began to shake with rage, wanting nothing more than to stand up and scream 'fu-'

"Y/n,"

"What?!" I hissed at Lucas, my head whipping around to face him, my jaw clenched.

I was shocked to see the faintest imprint of the most vaguely shaped hand on the bench. It was hardly noticeable and I had to do a double take.

'What the hell?'

El was leaning over and she met my gaze. She briefly looked at my hands, seeming to dismiss whatever thoughts she had. Then looked to Troy.

"Mouth breather." She whispered.

I let out a strained chuckle and nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, mouth breather." I whispered, looking back and Troy.

Eventually, the bell rang, dismissing the assembly. Even though Lucas and Dustin seemed to have let it go, Mike and I were not finished.

"Hey! Hey! Hey Troy." Mike called.

I could tell he could hear us because he barely slowed down but was clearly laughing. I stomped towards him and called him out, loud and clear.

"Hey, jackass!"

He stopped in his tracks and turned around. He seemed like he wanted to be mad, but almost like he was happy he got a rise out of us.

"You think that shit was funny?" My voice never wavered and the boys and El seemed just as shocked as I was feeling at my newfound courage.

"What'd you say, orphan?" He asked, dumbfounded.

He only called me that when he was really pissed at me.

By now I was in his face, finally letting out all the pent-up aggression I've harbored for years. And it felt good.

"Get the hell outta my face, freak!" He yells shoving me back.

I get ready to strike but Dustin grabs my arm before my fist can collide with Troy's face. I struggle to get free but my brother was determined to hold me back, with the help of Lucas of course.

"Control your 'sibling', Toothless. Or he just might lose a few teeth of his own." He glares at me and I still attempt to break free.

Mike seems to have found his voice as all of this happened because he was the next to speak.

"H-Hey, they're right! Laughing like that? That's a pretty messed up thing to do."

Troy, glares at us as his minion speaks.

"Didn't you listen to the counselor, freaks? Grief shows itself in funny ways."

"You little shit-" I attempt once more to get a right hook in but Lucas stops me.

Troy laughs at me struggling.

"Besides, what's there to be sad about, anyway? Will's in fairyland now, right? Flying around with all the other little fairies. All happy and gay!"

Lucas loosened his grip on me, silently letting me go as Troy began dancing around, mocking Will.

I swung my fist and I felt it collide with his nose with a satisfying crunch. He stumbled back and grasped his nose in surprise, and he pulled his hand away to find a few drops of blood. The crowd that had gathered while all of this unfolded, gasped in surprise. I even earned some scattered cheers among the students.

I seemed to realize the consequences of my actions, but I was prepared to face them. It was worth it. I watched as he stormed towards me, blinded by fury.

"You're dead, freak!" He stomped towards me at a shocking speed and I stumbled back, bracing myself for the inevitable retaliation but it never came.

All I felt was a sudden pair of hands on my right arm, harshly pushing me out of the way. I looked in time to see it was Mike who pushed me out of the way. I gawked in confusion at what happened next.

Troy had just begun to raise his arm as he was only inches from Mike when he froze.

He completely froze in place.

He seemed just as confused, if not more than anyone. That confusion quickly bubbled into fear as his eyes scanned the room as much as he could without moving his head.

"Dude, Troy peed himself!"

"Hey! What is going on here?" The principle shouted.

"Come on!" I whisper, gesturing for the boys who all had the same idea. Before people could start asking questions we grouped together and made our way to the AV room unnoticed.

#you'll float queue #stranger things #will byers x reader #reader insert #will byers #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #cosmic #y/n henderson #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #x gn!reader #x gender neutral reader #the body #tw homophobia #tw fairy slur

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #385

“I am a human being, capable of doing terrible things”

Who in your family has been married the longest? (and how long?) Uhhhh. I don't know. Do you take your shoes off when you come inside? Yes. What’s your favorite movie series? I think Shrek when you consider all the movies' (well, I haven't seen the last one, but...) quality. No memeage here, I just genuinely love Shrek, haha. I would say The Lion King, but miraculously when you consider the focus on meerkats, I actually don't like 1 1/2 much. What was the first color you ever dyed your hair? Hm... I think I got purple highlights? Do you want to move anytime soon? Even though we haven't even lived here a year, yes. I don't like living in an urban area, and I also reeeeaaaally don't like our family friend being our landlord. I know that sounds very weird, but she's just a very controlling person who forcefully inserts herself into my family's lives now more than ever, and I have a pretty deep fear that a potential argument finally erupting will lead to us being kicked out. I genuinely don't think Tobey would ever do that, but the fear is still there. How good/bad was the quality of education you received in high school? Average, I guess? What was the most interesting year of your life, and why? "Interesting," maybe... 2017 or 2018? I learned a lot about myself in that time range. But at the same time, my life was (and still is) VERY uneventful. Just a lot of mental stuff went on. What was the first social media site you ever used? Myspace. Do you have any exes you really regret dating? REALLY regret? No. I wish I'd never dated Tyler, but it's not a massive regret or anything. He was still a cool guy that I have a few nice memories with. Have you ever lied on a resume? Or even in a job interview? Ha, I'd definitely stretch the truth about being more of a people-person than I am. I couldn't go too far with lying, though; I'm just not comfortable doing that, 'cuz like, they're gonna find out eventually that it's not true. Of all your friends & family, who has the most nicely-decorated home? Maybe my friend Summer. Her room has always been super cool. What brought about the end of the worst relationship you’ve been in? Apparently, not talking to him every second of every day two weeks into a relationship was a no-no. Where was the last place you spent the night other than your own home? The sleep study building or whatever it's considered in the medical plaza. Do you have any step- or half-siblings? I have both. What do people always seem to think is weird about you? The fact I don't watch TV. Do you ever braid your hair? It's way too short for that. Even when it was long, I didn't do it frequently at all. Is there any certain style of architecture you really enjoy? Roman, in particular. What was the last thing you gave up on? uhhhhhhhhhhh If you watch Parks and Recreation, who is your favorite character? I don't. What’s the last DIY project you did, if any? If you can’t remember, what’s something you’d be interested in doing? I'm not really into DIY stuff, honestly. I'd rather just buy products that were made better than I could, or commission someone who can. What's a song that makes you feel happy? I dunno. It's rare a song alone makes me happy. What is your favorite clothing store? Rebel's Market. How did you meet your best friend? YouTube, back when it was a more social platform. What is something you do well? Catastrophize any situation. Assume the worst of everything. What's a good idea you've had recently? Probably to re-engage with a calorie-counting app I used to use. I'm back to trying to use it consistently. Do you like to wear high heels? Does ANY person LIKE to? How many slices of pizza do you usually eat? Two or three depending on my appetite and the size of the pizza. Do you play any instruments? Not anymore. Do you always smile for pictures? Not always. What are you most excited about right now? To see the results of my TMS therapy. What's the last song you listened to? "Ex’s and Oh’s” by Elle King. What's the last YouTube video you watched? I'm watching an Erosium livestream rn. Newest channel binge, haha. Do you know anyone who's died in childbirth? No. Would you ever consider moving to another country for your career? No. I don't want to leave my family. Do you wear foundation? No, I hate the feeling of that crap. Do you know anyone who has run for public office? No. Do you have a cartilage piercing? I used to, but the hole closed when I had to take it out for the hospital. :/ I plan on getting it repierced. Have you ever been taken to the emergency room or urgent care? If so, why? Yes; for being suicidal, a suicide attempt, and when I had a horribly infected cyst and just existing made me want to sob with pain. Have you ever had to visit anyone in the hospital? Yeah, a few times. What is the most pain (physical, mental, emotional) you've ever felt? Physical: having the aforementioned cyst drained when I was not nearly numbed enough. Mental and emotional (what's really the difference?): my breakup with my first real boyfriend. What is the longest time you've spent crying? Oh, hours on end, fluctuating with intensity. Have you ever been stolen from? Yes. Have you ever been to a ghost town? No, but I would FUCKING LOVE to. Let me bring my camera and it's a field day. Has anything in your house ever caught on fire? Not in this current house. Have you ever been inside of a vacant house? No. Have you ever been attacked by a dog? No. What is the most disgusting thing you've ever seen? The massive cyst my late dog Teddy developed on his lower belly. That fucking thing hung on by a THREAD and was absolutely nauseating to look at. How old were you when you learned how to read? I don't recall, I just know it was earlier than most children. Do you prefer cats or dogs? Cats. Which book series was the first you read? I want to say Hank the Cowdog. I was hooked on it. Would you rather write a book or direct a movie? Haha, what a question, as I've considered both of these as potential careers. I think write a book. What dream that you’ve had has stuck in your head the most? Describe: A nightmare about my dad that I'm not going into. What emotion do you find yourself trying to hide from others? I'm very uncomfortable revealing jealousy or envy. How emotional/sentimental would you say you are? Extremely. What is the most fun game to play? Shadow of the Colossus, probably. What is your sense of humor like (dry, dark, sarcastic, etc.)? I don't know, maybe dry. How many languages can you say "hello my name is…" in? Two. What language do you think sounds the nicest? I don't know, it's not like I've heard every language be spoken. What language do you want to learn more of? German. Do you have any form of OCD? I'm diagnosed with OCD. Do you make promises often? No. I take promises VERY seriously and am not about to make one unless I'm certain I can keep it. What is it that you are responsible for? My pets, keeping my room clean, stuff like that. Do you have a lot of secrets? Not "a lot," no. Are you more likely to be verbally aggressive or physically? Verbally. I'm only physically aggressive in my nightmares. What warning has someone given you that you wish you’d have listened to? Hm. What warning has someone given you you are glad you didn’t take? I also don't know. What is your favourite video of on YouTube? I can't pick just one. Name one creature that freaks you out/scares you? Maggots. Just the word makes me squirm. What was the last thing you wrote down on paper? My signature. Have you ever watched Breaking Bad? No. Are your fingernails always painted? They never are. What color is your bed frame? A rich brown. Did any of your neighbors come over to welcome you when you moved into your current house? No. What's something you didn't realize how bad it was until it happened to you? Heartbreak. Do you like Taylor Swift's singing voice? No. It's squeaky and annoying to me. Does it bother you when people get super emotional? Why the fuck would it bother me? Let people be in touch with their emotions. Have you ever worked in a restaurant? No. What was the last drive-thru you went through? Ummm I want to say Starbuck's w/ Mom after my TMS appointment. Do you know anyone who claims they can see/feel spirits or other supernatural "things?" No. Does your house have any unoccupied bedrooms? Yes. Do either of your parents have a mental illness? My mom has depression, and she personally suspects something's up with Dad, but idk. He's never seen a doctor about that kinda stuff. What fun things are there to do where you live? Ha! Do you know anyone with a really poorly-trained dog? I know many like that. When you were growing up, did your family rent or own your home? My parents owned it. Can you see the stars at night where you live? I actually haven't paid attention at this house. I'm certain it'd be harder now living in an urban area, though. What job do you know you'd be terrible at? Like, everything? I'd probably be worst at promoting stuff to people and trying to push them into buying something. No being a salesperson for me. Do you do meal-prepping? No. Do you know anyone who got preggo less than a year into their relationship? Who doesn't? And now, for the greatest question of all time! Toilet paper- should it go over or under? I literally couldn't care less about this. Fun fact though to "end" the argument, the original concept art of the idea (the word for that is evading me...) has it designed to go over. Are you afraid of mice? Not at all, they're adorable. What type of souvenir do you usually purchase when on vacation? I don't have a specific "type" of thing I get, really. It depends. Do you vacation often? Not at all. Are you comfortable wearing your pajamas in public places? It depends on the place, really. Generally, I really don't care, so long as I put a bra on. What’s your favorite candy bar? That one that's a bunch of Reese's squares composed into a rectangle. It. Is so. Fucking. Good. Do you own more than one copy or edition of a book? No. If you could see any musical on Broadway right now, what would it be? I don't like musicals. Do you own a helmet of any sorts? No. Does your family generally decorate for most holidays? Just for Christmas, really. Do you eat soup when you’re sick? I'm not a soup person. Have you ever watched Doctor Who? I saw one or two episodes with Sara. If so, what do you think is the scariest creature yet? N/A Do you read tour guide type books before you visit places? No.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''run'' by awolnation

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the-u-s-s-enterprise · 4 years

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This is a long one, but I love Undertale.

Eighteen-years old, fresh out of their sheltered hometown and onto a liberal arts college with more diverse people than they had ever experienced in their life. They’re nervous about school, the up in ante, the new lifestyle, the new freedom. They found their place with some friends that they wouldn’t think about in a few years time, people that would come and go, and a couple that would stay, but the first step on their journey into adulthood.

This is fall of 2015. Their parents dropped them off with a teary goodbye less than a month ago, and Undertale comes out today. They don’t know about it. At least not until Steam Train plays it not too long later. They watch a cute game played and commentated by a duo from their favorite YouTube gaming channel. It’s exactly their style, a cute, fun game with interesting and lovable characters.

The first episode doesn’t even span the tutorial, and the kid doesn’t bother waiting for the rest. They load up steam and buy it, playing it well into the night, sobbing at the heartbreaking conclusion and not knowing that five years later they would break into tears over hearing “Home” for the first time in years.

I played Undertale because I thought it was cute, the designs were fun, the mechanics were interesting, the story was easy enough to follow. I liked video games, but not enough to spend money on them only to get bored halfway through, so I watched a few Let’s Play YouTube channels to experience them without having to devote my constantly overstimulated brain to playing them.

Undertale was different. I don’t choose the things I become obsessed with (do you think I would be thinking about It: Chapter 2 over a year later if I could?), but when I fall into something, I fall hard.

I played it through, and then I watched Steam Train, and then I watched Press Heart to Continue, and JackSepticEye, and Markiplier, and Dan and Phil, and streamers I don’t even remember the names of in order to see every single reaction and playthrough I could see. Don’t get me wrong, I played again and again, too, even forcing my friends not to play it if I wasn’t there to watch.

In fact, I distinctly remember a friend, I was watching him play and telling him where the secrets were and the background for every little thing that wasn’t explicit in the game. He loved it. We played the entire game in three sessions, the first involved us going through the Ruins and saving after meeting Sans and Papyrus, the second going about halfway through Waterfall, and the third was the rest of the game in a six-hour session.

All in all, I can’t even count how many times I’ve witnessed the game, nor how many times I’ve read the Wiki pages, clicking “random page” over and over again until I had circled back around to the start. If I had to guess, I’ve played the pacifist playthrough about ten times on my own, and watched it anywhere between 20 and 30 between different YouTubers and rewatches of the same playthroughs. I’ve seen the genocide run a fair number of times, likely close to ten, and various neutral runs in the teens.

Not only that, I spent hours in the library with my headphones on doing homework, listening to not the OST, but the ten-hour extended versions of my favorite songs, “Bonetrousle”, “Hopes and Dreams”, “Death by Glamour”, and the ever so aptly named “NGAHHH!!” just to name a few.

And don’t get me started on the glitch characters. The hours I spent looking up information on Gaster because I was too scared to mod my own game are endless.

So, I guess you could say I’m very familiar with the game. It meant a lot to me as a young adult with fresh freedom, a story about a lost child finding a family of their own. My first and only tattoo is of the delta rune (although people will try to tell me it’s from Legend of Zelda).

It’s hard to talk about, but I don’t have the best mental health, with constant long-running depression, social anxiety, and mild OCD, my brain tends to run a mile a minute, and I had a really hard time making friends in high school, which resulted in me not having any friends at all after my friends from middle school decided they were too good for me.

I spent the better part of my four years in high school eating lunch alone and not going out on the weekends because no one wanted me to. In senior year, I managed to make friends with a few people, but nothing deep or long lasting.

Cue college, a fresh start where I could be exactly who I was supposed to be. I came out as asexual on the second day there, not knowing that my involvement with the LGBT organization would lead me to realize that I was also nonbinary and a lesbian. But needless to say, I was an outcast looking for a place to call home.

I found it at school, making a couple lifelong friends (I love you girls!) and finding a place in coming to my own leadership abilities and my desire to be a role model and resource for young LGBT people. Always in the background was Undertale.

Here was this game, though with a few flaws, was the greatest game I had ever played, as I remarked on every little detail from the stunning backgrounds to the fun yet challenging fight mechanics to every little piece of witty dialogue.

I remarked on Toby Fox and his ability to create this game almost entirely on his own, coding and designing and writing music. He didn’t do it alone, but so much of the game was him, and seeing someone accomplish something that meant so much to me was an inspiration.

I looked at this game and saw a breathtaking story, hints of the twist being woven into every pixel, parallels at every turn, tidbits that you had to play the game ten times (like I did) to catch pieces of backstory that were so vital to fully understanding a character.

Not only that, but I looked at this game and I saw me. I saw the cute and honestly rather stupid love story between Alphys and Undyne, between a shy (presumably) bisexual lizard girl and a buff (presumably) lesbian fish lady. They were awkward and uncomfortable and bashful and I loved every part of their interactions. They cared for each other and their story being thrown in and accepted, not a word said about it except outside the game. And don’t get me started on the guards.

But beyond that, I saw Frisk, a child without a denoted gender, which many people took to mean you could impose the gender you wanted, but to nonbinary people, to people like me, they saw a main character that used they/them pronouns without it being a joke, without it being asked about, without the characters ever slipping up or even having to guess. They did it because that’s who Frisk is, and they love Frisk.

I see this game, this funny, heart-wrenching, sweet, and wonderful game, and I see found family. I see a child who we know went up Mount Ebbott knowing that children who went up there didn’t come back find people (monsters) that loved them, cared about them, even after only knowing them for what we can assume is a day.

Frisk finds these monsters and they loved them for who they are. The love these characters share meant more to me than I ever could have imagined they would, the background to my introduction to freedom, the meeting of my best friends, the discovery of myself, the growth of my leadership and motivation. They were there. They were always there for me, and now, today, on the day of the five year anniversary of my own self discovery, I listen to “Home” and I cry.

I cry for Toriel, who lived alone in the Ruins for years, I cry for Sans and Papyrus who take care of each other in more way than they know, I cry for Undyne who’s desperate to prove herself and protect her people, I cry for Alphys who lived with the guilt of her mistakes and wanting nothing more than to make amends for the monster she thought she was, I cry for Asgore who was so overcome with grief he became the worst version of himself.

I cry for Asriel for obvious reasons. And I cry for Frisk, a child that wanted love and found it in the journey, just like I did.

I listen to “Home” and I cry because it is home. It’s a story about love in the time I needed it the most, shaping me into the person I am today, even five years later.

Because despite everything, it’s still me.

#undertale

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