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j-reau · 3 years

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a hiatus or something

I didn’t want to post this. I told myself to give it until morning and sleep but I’ve been laying here for over an hour and I can’t sleep and I know I’m not going to sleep until I get it out. And I decided I’m not going to do the pretend things don’t bother us mentality that tumblr likes, the don’t show emotions on the dashboard, don’t let people know you’re hurt or angry out of fear it’ll be seen as ~drama or whatever thing stop me from just saying how I feel. Because I feel pretty shitty? I’ve been feeling shitty for a few days now. Maybe more. Last week I told myself that the drama that had randomly cropped up was just too much and I wasn’t going to let tumblr be something that made me cry or panic or kept me up at night over bullshit like arguing with someone over things that happened years ago. So I set my focus on my friends, on my dashboard, on reminding myself why I love RP and why I’ve been in it for this many years, for so long, with all of these people. Those Valentines I posted were part of that project for me. It was a reminder, for myself and my dash about all of the human connection that happens here, all the people we meet, all the little pieces of each other we take on and take with us, all the ships, all the conversations, however brief. From the people we just see on our dash to the ones we talk to about all our fears and insecurities. And how all of it matters.

I know how much we all love to say calm down gregg, it’s tumblr RP. I know how we all loathe this hellsite when we’re being our worst. I know how we all talk about how we’re too old for this now or we’re tired. We’re just here to write. I’m just here to write. I love writing. But what brings us all back time and time again, what keeps us here is the fact that it’s not just tumblr RP. It’s a community. Whether you have a real life that keeps you busy or your whole life is here, whether you have plenty of friends offline or all your closes people live on discord, we’re all people. And we all take this with us. We make friendships and we talk to each other. We open ourselves up to the constant trust and fear of interaction, of plotting, of who is going to reach out or send the meme. We build friendships based on that, we care for each other, we see each other’s bad days on the dash, and great days and inspiration. And it means something. It may just be tumblr RP, but it matters to us. Because of the people here, because we give a fuck about each other. Or at least I’ve always liked to hope we do. I have friends on this website I’ve had for ten years, some just for 3, and others just a few months. It always floors me how we can always come back to it, how we stick with each other or don’t, how we see the good and the bad and the ugly.

So to get on with it, I wrote those Valentines. I hit refresh on my blog and put the weird random drama in the past and moved forward. I made this blog for JJ only about 3 months ago. I don’t know how I got 500 followers in that short time but I did. And it’s. been the wildest experience I can possibly explain, having that happen so quickly, finding so many people out in the RPC that I hadn’t before on my other blogs. I felt fucking good. I was excited. Not just to write a character I had wanted to and loved for years but to find so many people who I vibed with. I remember writing a post about a month in and being so fucking ... floored. By how much I loved you all, by how amazing it was to be received like that still, to find people my age and who wrote things I liked and loved their female characters. I fucking love JJ. I LOVE THE SHIT out of my partners on this blog, even the new people I’m still itching to write with. And yet, I did that little refresh, posted my valentines , got ready to go and felt .... sad.

I tried to explain it. I tried to tell myself it was a bad mood. I hoped maybe it was medication. But I couldn’t shake the weird funk. And everywhere I looked it seemed like things were .... not good. My friends taking breaks, people feeling sad too, relationships splitting, people I liked and respected separating themselves. Tonight, one of my closest friends I’ve made on this blog blocked me. Someone I adored and trusted and absolutely loved to write with. Tumblr says we’re not supposed to care. That we’re supposed to let people draw their lines in the sand and take their leave and maybe we are. Maybe it’s important to let people make their choices. But I also think it’s important as fuck to talk to your friends, to mean what you say when you tell someone they’re important to you. I think it’s important that we remember on the other side of every blog and discord user is a person. Who has bad days and bad feelings and cries and feels insecure and tells themselves it’s just tumblr RP even when they know somehow it feels heavier when it’s bad. This was a friend I had talked to at length about all of those exact things, about how personal the community can feel sometimes, about feeling replaceable or invisible, even for the toughest most confident most take no shit people. I’ve always considered myself a pretty tough, confident, take no shit person. I think anyone who has known me for as many years as I’ve been around has seen that first hand. I don’t like how sad I’ve felt lately. I don’t like the insecurity that’s making me want to know why things feel way or why people vanish without so much as an explanation. I had to block a mutual last week I saw making fun of me on their twitter. A mutual. Someone who chose to follow me and on a public place where my other friends could see it made fun of what I posted. And I just don’t know what we’re doing anymore. It didn’t bother me. I don’t have hurt feelings over it. That’s the kind of stuff I definitely know I’m confident about. But .... it did really fucking floor me. Because here we are, on a sight where users talk about positivity and not sending anon hate, and we can treat each other like that.

I’ve been sitting up in bed for hours trying to figure out what to say or what to do. That’s what I do I guess. I try to figure out what to do, how we fix it, like somehow there’s some unified we and some responsibility to make things better. A lot of you have only known me for a few months so this probably sounds all kinds of nuts. And you’re probably going JJ you’ve been an emotional mess since the moment we met you. Because I feel like that’s how it’s been for the last few months. But that’s not how it’s always been for me. That’s not who I am. So for now I guess I’m just trying to figure out what I do. Instead of sitting here and spinning and trying to figure out how we as a community fix these gaping holes and the way we talk about each other like we’re disposable and treat each other like names on a list instead of people.

For now, I think what I do is take a little break. It’s the very thing I don’t want to do. Because it feels like quitting and it feels like being scared away. So I feel the need to promise whoever has read all of this and myself that that’s not what it is. Maybe I’ll be back in two days, maybe two weeks, who knows. But I need a break. From whatever this feeling is that seems to have come over things lately. I’ve loved these few months on this blog so much. And maybe that’s half the problem. Maybe I got spoiled and this is the come down. Maybe I’m just an idiot who thinks what we all want on this website is to find people and love each other and write together. I never knew that me -- the person often accused of being aloof and feelingsless and distant would somehow turn into the emotional bitch on this website but here we are I guess. I just don’t know how to navigate this anymore. I don’t know how to put my heart into relationships and friendships that can just be switched off like we can just stop caring about people. I don’t know how to ignore people who say horrible things and do horrible things to each other just because we don’t want to see it on our dashes. I don't know how to give enough of everything to everyone so that every single one of my mutuals and partners knows they’re valuable to me. I don’t know what I hope to accomplish. I don’t know when I got to be so much of a raw, frayed edge on tumblr dot com but that’s how I feel. And I hope in a few days or sometime soon I’ll have an answer or at least get my hard shell back.

I want to keep writing. I want to keep talking to you guys. I don’t want to lose anyone. I truly mean what I say when I say you’re all important to me. I plan to still be around on discord. I’ll write on discord if anyone wants to keep writing. If we aren’t discord friends yet and you want to be, send a message. I plan to come back. I don’t want to abandon anything. I’m so deeply fucking sorry for this rant, for all the overflow of feelings lately, for anyone that’s had to listen to them, for putting them on your dashes, for fucking all of it. Please be good to each other. Please talk to each other. Please remember that if we’ve crossed paths at any point on this blog, I value you. I value all of your friendships, your writing, your shitposts, your dash commentary, your tiktoks you dump at me on discord. I love you. Every last fucking one of you.

#💛✌🏼💛✌🏼💛✌🏼💛✌🏼💛✌🏼✌🏼✌🏼💛#i am dead fucking serious please feel free to stay in touch i just #need my dash closed for a while #message me if you want my discord

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knifefather · 3 years

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KnifeFather’s Kinktober 2020, 18+ NSFW ➼ Day 13: Breeding or squirting ➼ Pairing: Kars/Reader ➼ Word count: 2.2k ➼ Reader is AFAB and female pronouns are used. ➼ Also available on Ao3. ➼ Warning: This chapter contains dark themes such as kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, major character death, and abuse. Proceed with caution.

Kars, as the strongest of the remaining Pillarmen, makes a decision for the future of his race. You are made into one and only queen.

*Author’s note: This fic takes place a month or so after the events of episode 20 of Battle Tendency. Caesar was killed by Wamuu, and Kars kidnapped you. He killed the rest of the protagonists, secured the Red Stone of Aja, and took over the world. He keeps you locked away as his prisoner, but also his lover. They remain in Switzerland because why not.

You looked out the wide, luxurious window at the gentle snow falling over the Swiss mountains. The plush room you sat in was oppressively lonely. Your captor-turned-lover was away, and you were left by yourself. Even with that considered, you were still acutely aware of the presence of the stone mask vampires that resided on the floors below yours. When you heard their hissing from behind your closed door, it sent a shiver down your spine and bad memories flashing through your mind. You had thought to read one of the many books that lined the shelves of the room to distract yourself. However, after thinking it over, you realized that you had read most of them all already. A few months ago, you were taken from Lisa Lisa’s group during the team’s assault on the first dilapidated mansion the Pillarmen had resided in. After discovering that Caesar was dead, you made a grave mistake. The actions you took were foolish--you tucked yourself into a far-off corner, hiding in the shadows, sobbing over the death of your friend when you were taken. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. You felt an iron grip across your midriff, and suddenly you were being stolen away deeper into the mansion, only one shrill cry escaping you before you were fully engulfed in darkness. The last thing you heard was JoJo screaming your name. You never forgot the way his voice sounded as he watched you disappear.

When you came to, you were laying on the cold, hard floor of the manor. You noticed that an attempt had been made to warm you. The quilt you laid on was soft, and you were wrapped up tightly in the fabric. Your bleary eyes opened slowly only to fall on another set of eyes, watching you intently. Red eyes. You jumped and quickly made to scramble away, a whimper of fear leaving you. You were a Hamon user like your friends, but not nearly as strong as the rest of them. If you tried to resist the Pillarman, then it was certain that you would be a goner. A second gaze fell on you as well, but the silhouette of the second person as much farther away from you. “You’re awake.” The silky voice spoke condescendingly, the being it belonged to having no need for sleep. The being stepped closer to you into the dim light, revealing the form of a large man. Kars.

He explained his reasoning for capturing you and that he had intended to keep you even despite planning to murder your friends. You tried to fight him at first, swiping your fingernails across his face, charged with Hamon, but he deflected you easily, breaking your wrist in the most agonizing way possible. It took quite some time to heal, and it was never the same again. You knew from then on not to challenge him further.

Your relationship with your captor turned sexual quickly. Many nights after the deaths of your friends were spent with him cradling you to his gargantuan chest, his cock inside you, carving out his place in your womb. He never came inside--he always pulled out of you in favor of painting your body with his spunk instead. It always left you needy and wanting more. He taught you many things about the female form and how good he could truly make you feel.

He taught you other things, as well. When he took you, your Hamon was weak. You were a poor excuse for a warrior. He trained you, educated you more on the science of the practice, and in a short time, you were strong enough to have taken on Joseph, Caesar, and Lisa Lisa all at once and won. Their absence made you train harder. What would have happened if you were skilled enough the first time always lingered in the back of your mind. Kars beat you mercilessly during training. Even with how much he held back, you were still no match for him, and it took much fortitude to even stand up to a fraction of his power. There were many nights where he was the one nursing you after he had been the one to bloody you. It fucked with you emotionally in ways that you had never thought possible before. You questioned the superhuman's intentions, even now.

Back in the present, you made your way over to the bookshelf anyway. You trailed your fingertips over the various titles that Kars and Wamuu had collected for you. The selection ranged from encyclopedias to fictional novels to cooking books. Curious, you grabbed one of the F volumes of the encyclopedias. You wandered over to the chair in the corner of the room and opened it to a random page. You scanned the book, recognizing many concepts that you were already educated on. A particular phrase caught your eye--"Freedom and free will". You swallowed thickly and read over the entry, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as you stared down at the page. Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the door close against its frame. Your head whipped up to see Kars standing there, in all his glory, large and imposing. Quickly closing the book, you tried to ignore the feeling of dread that pooled in your stomach. You hoped that you didn't look guilty as you shoved the book away from you.

“Kars,” you said lamely, rising to your feet. “I’ve missed you… Where have you been?” you ask, drawing close to him. He accepted you into his arms, and you cuddled into his chest on instinct. “What’s important is not where I’ve been, but where I am now,” he said smoothly, holding you close. Even with such an intimate gesture, a flicker of fear lived in you. You were quiet and nodded in response before he pulled back from you. He held you away from him at an arm’s length, looking over you. Under his gaze, you felt as if he were undressing you in his mind, and it made you shiver. “My pet… We’re going to do something very important this day. Lay on the bed,” he instructed, his red eyes flashing inhumanly. You swallowed and made to obey his wish, laying on the lush sheets. He stripped himself of the simple collared shirt he wore, and you felt the apex of your thighs begin to grow damp already. He always had a certain air to him when he prepared to mate with you, and it made you shiver with anticipation. “Yes, my lord? What would that be?” you dared to question, watching him now move to his trousers. “As you know, Wamuu and I are the last of our kind,” he said simply, taking his time removing his belt and trousers. “Even with the company of you and the vampires, we’ve grown quite lonely. As the strongest of the remaining Pillarmen, I’ve made a decision.” His slacks fell to the ground and you were met with an eyeful of his impressive member. It didn’t surprise you that the superhuman went commando, but you still weren’t expecting the erect cock that hung in front of you. You stayed silent, eyeing him and waiting for him to continue. He moved towards you silently, his movements perfect and unfaltering. He settled himself in front of you and you opened your thighs for him absentmindedly. “We’re going to make more?” you asked softly, your question more of a statement than anything. Kars’s long, sentient hair began to curl around the both of you, lengthening and writhing on the mattress. “Correct, my pet. I’ve made arrangements for us to bed as long as we please with no interruptions,” he whispered, helping himself to free you from your clothing. You sucked in a breath of anticipation as he stripped you bare. Your body, covered in scars laid bare to him, and he licked his lips and he watched you. The Pillarman cut right to the chase. Already, he directed your body in the way that he wanted it: you were on your back, and he hiked your ankles up to your ears, you holes on display for him. You whimpered under the heated gaze he gave you, embarrassed even though he had already seen you in every position imaginable. “Prepare yourself, little human,” he warned, his words dissolving into a soft moan as he pressed the head of his girthy member inside you. Even though he had taken you before, you never became completely accustomed to the stretch of his manhood. You controlled your breathing as he sheathed himself inside you, the Hamon training working in your favor. Your palms itched with the urge to touch the god, but they flinched away before you could make contact. Kars chuckled at your reaction. “You may touch. This is a special occasion,” he said evenly, holding your legs up to your head. You whimpered and moved to grab his powerful arms, anchoring yourself as he plunged his impossibly huge member in your dripping opening. He was too large to hilt inside you fully, but he filled you as much as he possibly could. You were already on the brink of orgasm, the stretch doing wonders on its own. “Are you ready?” he asked you.

You nodded at him. “Yes, Kars…” you confirmed weakly, your cunt clenching around him. “I’m ready to… to breed,” you whispered. This seemed to set him off. Without further ado, the Pillarman brought his hips down to yours, dragging his cock sensually along your walls, and you cried out from the intensity of the action. He began with a slow, steady pace, watching your pussy lips stretch around his member. His breaths were deliberate, keeping a check on himself even during the throes of pleasure. “Please, Lord Kars, I can take more,” you moaned, your voice sounding more sure than you felt. He gazed at you through his thick, black lashes and laughed, the sound more of a growl.

“Good pet. I’ve trained you well,” he spoke before canting his hips faster into yours. You thrashed against the mattress as the head of his cock assaulted your G spot, and your first orgasm washed over you. You grabbed him for support, and his powerful body didn't falter as you did so. Kars’s endless amusement over how passionately you submit to him showed all over his face. The horns peeking from the mane of purple hair on his head made him look like a perfect devil, but the focused and serene expression on his face made him appear angelic. It was beautifully confusing, but the details were lost to you as his heavy balls slapped against your ass. They pulsed against you, and you knew his climax impending. “You can feel it, can’t you? I’m going to breed you, my dear… Fill you with my seed,” he promised. The ultimate lifeform spread your legs impossibly wide, fucking into your womb with amazing strength. Your head grew empty, leaving you only able to cling to him and thoughtlessly beg for his essence. Kars stilled to a slower pace as he emptied himself inside you, the carnal nature of the god commanding him to dig himself as deep as he could into your pussy. Your mouth dropped open in a soundless scream, moaning and beaming up at him. He recovered from his orgasm quickly and was already beginning a moderate pace once more.

You trembled as he continued pounding away at your core. You could feel the fullness of your tummy as it began to swell with his cum, your breasts jiggling as he snapped his body into yours. If you were full from just one load, you couldn’t imagine how you were going to feel by the time the day was over. In a rare moment of sentimentality, Kars leaned over you to plant a passionate kiss on your lips, his large thighs meeting the backs of yours rhythmically. He swallowed any noises of lust you produced, and your eyes slipped shut as he took you. The sheer amount of power that rolled off of him made you fold in on yourself, and he tsked when he noticed you shrinking away. “Come now, love, don’t be shy,” he encouraged, gazing down at where your bodies connected. “This is a significant moment. You’re going to be my queen, the mother of a race.” The god looked elated to be reminding you of that fact as he ground his hips into yours, the tip of his member pushing lovingly against your cervix.

You squeezed your eyes shut, reveling in the amazing sensations. “M-My lord… Thank you--” Your words of appreciation were cut off as another rush of his semen filled you again, sending your back arching off of the bed. Your head lulled to the side as he marked you, claimed you, and you let yourself be overwhelmed with bliss as you spent the rest of the evening being filled with his tainted love.

#kars #jjba #battle tendency #kinktober #kinktober entry #not sfw #day 13 #my work #backup #minors dni #tw abuse #tw stockholm syndrome #tw death #spoilers for part 2 #spoilers #tw kidnapping

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estoniacobaltpayne · 3 years

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Judgement Day

Chapter 1: Devising Deceit

Summary: Desperate, a force user bargains for her freedom; if she acquires the ‘asset’ deemed top priority, she would be free from the life that has enslaved her. Years of training has prepared her, but she’s stubborn and unlucky and more often than not she’s biting off more than she can chew. Maybe pulling the long con is the only path to freedom, but if it is, there’s a Mandalorian blocking it.

Warnings: language, implications of creepy old men

Pairing: Din Djarin X Reader

Prologue: Here!

Arvala-7 was hot. Despicably so. It was as if its creation was solely intended to irritate her on her quest. She would have thought she would have been more accustomed to the heat, but even the stuffy cargo holds on the dingy and dank ships she stowed away upon weren’t as unbearable as the waves of oppressing heat radiating from the red sand.

Hell, even Jakku hadn’t been this unbearably hot.

Luckily, Darth Ragna didn’t have long to linger in her suffering for too long. An isolated base appeared before her, and along with it brought the beginning of her journey towards freedom. Taking out the guards would be quick work, especially with her abilities. Really, what could they offer themselves for protection? Blasters? A canon at most? Surely, nothing to suppress her unnatural abilities. A forgotten base such as this one would in no way be equipped with such advanced, expensive, and rare technology.

And so she began her fight. The blasters were easy to manipulate into disintegration, and their users were easy enough to mindlessly toss aside without a single touch. The first canon was just the same. The second canon was a surprise, but took just as little effort. Then the crew of the base rolled out another 3 canons simultaneously. She was falling behind in her attacks. She now played the role of the defence, and damn, was their offence growing stronger? Or was the heat of the sun really that bad? How comical. The sun bringing down someone as powerful as her.

But it wasn’t the sun. It was the syringe sticking out of her arm. Did these unintelligent life forms really just... gain the upper hand? Did they really just have the audacity to shoot her with… what was it?

What was-

The last thing she saw was the same damned red sand kicked in her face by the boots of the soldiers running towards her. She couldn’t even feel it stinging her eyes, coating her skin, dirtying her hair. And after another moment in slow motion, she lost her ability to keep her eyes open.

The last thing she registered was the sharp voice that eternally plagued her head; “you should be better than this, pathetic child.”

And then, she was nothing.

——

Rumbling.

Outside.

Outside where?

Where is inside?

Darth Ragna pushed herself off the ground. She spit out some of the red sand that still lingered in her mouth. How long had she been out? Why couldn’t she feel the force? How did those buffoons even get the upper hand?

She lifted up her arms to shake some of pesky sand that was in her hair. It was impossibly tangled in every direction, and the sweat and sand coating her head was making the itching on her scalp nearly unbearable. But something was impeding her attempt to soother herself; handcuffs. A very familiar model of handcuffs.

“If you can’t control yourself, then I get to control you. Understand, girl?”

A tall man with skin as pale as his soul and a grip to match pulls along a young girl, not even old enough to have 2 digits in her age.

“Please! I can! I can be good! I promise! I-“

He turns around and cuts her off sharply, “no! This is the last time you disobey me! If you didn’t want the cuffs, you would have contemplated your actions before you enacted them! Pray I don’t devise a worse punishment!”

A pair of handcuffs encircled her wrists. They were a clean chrome colour, that, when paired with the glowing blue technology underneath their surface, suppressed every ounce of ability to connect with the force. She was alone now.

It was the same type of handcuffs that were forced upon Ragna now.

But now, they were such a small problem compared to the IG-11 droid imposing over her body that was limp on the floor. She backed herself up the wall, trying to put as much space between herself and the killer droid as possible. After all, her powers in the force were useless, thanks to the cuffs, and she was useless against the droid.

But its focus was not on her, anyways.

Its target was stubbornly aimed on the pram to her right. She couldn’t see into it, but she new from the intel she was given back home that, if it was the asset she was sent to acquire, it was a child. The droid had its blaster aimed into its center; but it dropped to the ground with a hole in its head as suddenly and as unceremoniously as it had been brought into this world. Its effortless destruction was brought upon it before it got the chance to terminate the child.

But whatever managed to take out an IG-11 droid so very easily was more concerning to Darth Ragna; and that’s when she noticed the Mandalorian.

The visor of his silver helmet was trained upon her. The chest plates the colour of the sand beneath his feet rose and fell in gentle breaths; too gentle considering the energy he must have exerted to take out the guards outside. Speaking of which: if he could take them out, why couldn’t she? If she couldn’t out-fight a few hired guns, how the hell was she supposed to take out this beast of a Mandalorian? Even if her abilities in the force had been unsuppressed?

She thought quickly; the only way to get out of this alive was to out-wit the Mandalorian. If she was able to successfully convince him that she was sent here to care for the asset, then she might be able to gain his trust. And once she did, she would, quite literally, stab him in the back, and take the asset as her own bounty. And so, in a rushed, nearly unbelievable string of jumbled words, she put on, truly, her best act. But her rushed stammering, she could tell, did little to sway the bounty hunter. After her speech, he simply stared at her, unmoving.

Finally, after Ragna began to think that he would just end her then and there, he let out a gruff, “how do you explain the cuffs, then?”

His voice was like nothing she had ever heard; rough, raw, authentic. It stunned her into silence. It wasn’t until he let out a tensed, “well?” that she responded.

“They didn’t believe me! Even after showing them that I, too, am a wielder of the force, they still locked me up here!”

The Mandalorian was really going against his better judgement when he helped her up off the floor. But for Ragna, things were starting to go her way. She just had to sell her feigned kindness and hope that he warmed up to her quickly.

“Thank you! You have no idea how refreshing it is to have someone sane at a time like this! Imagine if those gunman had just left me here. How rude! I can’t even think of it! Truly, you live up to the reputation of your people! Now, if you would oblige me once more and take off these cuffs?”

The Mandalorian was already halfway out the door with the child, when he bluntly replied, “no.”

Well, damn.

——

And damn once more. Ragna had really expected her situation to be much easier than it was turning out to be. A caravan of Jawas had raided the Mandalorian’s ship for parts (not that there was much worth scavenging, as she bluntly said to the ship’s owner). Her new travel companion enlisted the help of a former ally to try and remedy the situation. An Ugnaut named Kuill, who mentioned in passing his indentured servitude in the Empire. Ragna stiffened. Did he… did he know of her? If he did, he didn’t seem to let on, a relief to Ragna. If she were to be found out, she would be facing instant death via Mandalorian.

Honestly, it was the damned cuffs. This whole ordeal could have been over and done with had that stubborn Mandalorian just taken those handcuffs off her. But until he did, she could do nothing to help in any way. Not when the Mandalorian went to fight the mudhorn did he take them off, and not even when he was fixing his ship. She could have helped and this all would have gone much faster, and she was sure to make that fact known to the Mandalorian in a feeble attempt to win his faith, but he did nothing but ignore her.

More importantly, she couldn’t carry out her plan to kill the Mandalorian and take the child to the Imperials herself if she was still held hostage in the force suppressing cuffs. She attempted to reach out to him; to establish a faux acquaintanceship with him in order to sway him into trusting her, but as soon as she initiated a conversation, he took the child and hid himself away in the cockpit. He locked the doors and didn’t dare retreat for the majority of the ride to Nevarro, as she believed he mentioned they were going, which was her last chance to enact any semblance of her plan. But alas, he still did not remove the force suppressing cuffs, and she was still disabled to the force. The Mandalorian’s contact, however, proved to not be useless to her and her situation. He was one of the Imperial councilmen that approved her bargain; the child’s obtainment for her freedom. The amount of time the client spent talking to the bounty hunter was excruciating, however, as soon as he left, she made herself and her bargain loud and clear to the Imperial client.

“I bargained that should the child be brought into Imperial hands, that I would be freed.”

The Imperial was a plump man with a disapproving face. He was smart, and not one to easily let go of what he felt belonged in Imperial clutches.

“And yet, you were not the one to bring in the asset, so I do believe that your contract has been voided.”

Her jaw squared. She would be damned if some bounty hunter got in the way of her freedom.

“I helped him. I led him to it. There were too many guards. Neither could have taken them alone. My contract never said I couldn’t employ the assistance of another,” Ragna was seething. All she could do was plead. There was no way she would let go of her freedom now; not when she was so close, and she wasn’t below laying herself down at the feet of this asshat to obtain what she wanted.

“And yet, you’re sitting here in the force suppressing handcuffs I know your father so dearly loves to see you in.”

A shiver ran down Ragna’s spine. But she ignored the implications. She would weasel her way out of this.

“He wanted assurance that I wouldn’t kill him and take the reward for myself. After seeing the reward was beskar, I can’t blame him. Now, I believe my obligations are fulfilled. Please remove the cuffs.”

The Imperial client regarded her for a moment. Honestly, with how much Ragna made the Empire put up with - all her fits and acts of rebellion against her training - she’d have thought they’d be glad to be rid of her. A fact she made clear to him in his glaring silence.

After a moment he acquiesced, and ordered one of the troopers to remove them.

She was free.

——

And how beautiful freedom was.

For all of about an hour.

Ragna was enjoying some street food native to Nevarro when she heard a commotion on the next street over. She shouldn’t have investigated. Really, she should have stowed away on the nearest ship and bailed, but something pulled her towards the trouble.

And she really, should have known what was the source.

There he was, that damned Mandalorian (only now in a shiny new set of armour), carrying the child to his ship. He was conversing with someone, who, Ragna didn’t know, but before she could try and decipher their conversation, her comm beeped from her satchel.

“Come in! Ragna come in!”

She really, really, shouldn’t have answered the damned call.

“Ragna! The bounty hunter I was informed you worked with in obtaining the asset just made off with it! Tore threw nearly a half dozen troopers! Apprehend he and the child immediately!”

Rage coursed through her. She was no longer an Imperial toy!

“How dare you? My contract has been fulfilled! It is no concern of mine what happens in Imperial matters now!”

A dark cackle comes through the comm. The poor quality of the speaker mixed it with static to give it a truly horrifying and maniacal texture.

“I thought you wanted freedom in order to better carry out the will of the Empire? I see now that you have betrayed me and this entire organisation. Foolish girl. Apprehend the bounty hunter and bring us the asset, or there will be not a single crevice of this galaxy that you can hide from me.”

The comm went silent. Sigh. Should she disregard her commands and hide herself away, she would never truly be free. If she brought in the bounty hunter and child, she would never have to worry about hiding from her Imperial keepers ever again. Ragna regarded her options. She had no ship, so chasing the Mandalorian around the galaxy in an attempt to kill him was off the table. She still had her original plan though. And now, as other bounty hunters swarmed him from every angle, she had the perfect opportunity to help fight them off.

Hopefully, that would be enough for the Mandalorian to seal some trust in her.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfic #mando x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction

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deathnotesecretexchange · 3 years

Text

Title: Gift Exchange

From: @anakien

To: @user-null

Prompt: Mello & Near gift exchange without the other knowing

Word Count: ~3,800 words

A/N: Hi! I hope you enjoy this! :)

Mello will never admit it, but he's always liked Christmas.

He has fuzzy memories from being a kid, long before he was ever brought to Wammy's. On Christmas Eve, he attended church services with his mother. He remembers kneeling with her in the pews, clutching her rosary, and listening to her sing.

He can't picture her face anymore, but he remembers her there.

Christmas at Wammy's is different. Wammy's is always lighter, somehow. The place is decorated, all lights and trees and little ugly snowflake decorations up on the walls. Roger takes a carload to the nearest church for the Christmas Eve service, though Mello no longer goes. The chefs bake more, laying out plates of cookies and other spiced holiday desserts. And though all of the kids are too intelligent to truly believe in Santa, Watari's and L's Santa traps are kind of fun (though, as always, it's only a test for the successor path).

But Mello's favorite part of Christmas might be the gift exchange they do every year. Some of the older kids started it several years ago, X, Y, and Z, but every year the tradition continues.

This year, Linda begged and begged until the others let her organize the exchange. They pile into one of the empty classrooms after dinner, the others buzzing with excitement. Even Matt looks relatively excited, his GameBoy ever-present but sitting paused in his lap.

Even that little twit Near is around, sitting quietly in the corner. He meets Near's gaze and holds it for a moment. Near doesn't look happy really, but there's still something akin to excitement in his gaze.

Mello doesn't let that curb his good mood, his own excitement still bubbling in his belly. He turns away, back to Matt, and shoves him to go put their names in the hat.

Linda yells at everyone to settle down, hands on her hips. She trots around the room, waving the hat under everyone's nose.

Matt draws his slip first, and then Mello grabs his, under Linda's watchful eyes.

He leans back and peers at it. Linda, the slip reads. He snorts. Easy. All he has to do is get her art supplies.

He watches her flounce off to the next person, and Matt groans as soon as she's out of earshot.

"Damn. I wanted her," he says. He pushes his goggles up to the top of his head and sighs.

Mello smirks. He is no stranger to Matt's not-so-secret crush. He briefly flashes Matt his little slip of paper, and Matt's eyes grow wide.

"Switch with me."

Mello cackles. "No way. She's easy to buy for."

"Mello," Matt says pleadingly. He's practically begging, and Mello relishes in this newfound control. "Come on, man. Let's switch."

"What'll you give me?"

"A month's supply of chocolate."

"You were going to give me that anyway. That's my Christmas gift."

"Two months!"

"Six. And next time Roger gets on my ass, you cover for me."

Matt sighs and looks longingly over in Linda's direction. "Three months, but I'll do the Roger thing."

"Deal." Mello sticks out his hand, Matt shakes it, and they exchange slips.

Only that's when Mello realizes he never found out who exactly Matt had. He unfolds Matt's slip to see Near written in tiny letters.

"Hell no," he says immediately, trying to shove the slip back into Matt's hands.

Matt gives him wide eyes. "Come on, we shook on it."

Mello grits his teeth. He turns around, scouting for Near. Nowhere in sight; he must've left as soon as he got his paper.

"I hate that little sheep," he sneers.

Matt looks genuinely, legitimately disappointed, and Mello's resolve starts to falter.

"I'm a good fucking friend," Mello grumbles finally.

Matt's face lights up, and he slaps Mello on the shoulder, grinning.

They leave the room, and Mello fights the irritation that lingers.

------

One week before Christmas, Roger rounds up all the kids who want to physically buy their gifts to head to the closest department store.

He and Matt climb into one of the vans, followed in by Sura and Hermine. Both girls chatter away in the front row, smiling at Matt but ignoring Mello.

Mello scowls and looks out the other window. He can practically feel Matt's silent gloating, though he stays quiet as he pulls out his GameBoy.

"Got room for two more?" A new voice says. Mello turns, and Linda grins at them. Near stands next to her, looking as impassive as ever.

Matt lights up and immediately scrambles out of the back seat, making room for Linda.

"Come here," Sura says to Linda, beckoning her over. Linda gives Matt an apologetic smile and scoots into the middle row next to Hermine.

Near stands expectantly, looking up at Matt.

"We got room," Matt says to Near. Matt looks disappointed, but Near obviously doesn't care. Mello averts his eyes as both turn towards him, angling his body as close to the side as possible.

Mello stiffens as Near climbs in next to him. He remains still, holding his breath, even as Near straps in and ignores him. Matt climbs in next, sending Mello a silent expression that's a mix of amused and apologetic.

Near suddenly leans even more into Mello's space, digging into his pants pocket, and Mello chokes for a moment. Out Near pulls a small wooden toy and then moves back into his own space. He murmurs a small apology, obviously waiting on Mello to yell at him.

Instead, Mello could only focus on how warm he was, and on how soft his hair was against his cheek.

"Watch it," Mello mutters, but without any venom. It's also a beat too late, and Matt is staring at him with an eyebrow raised. He snorts on the other side of the van, trying belatedly to turn it into a cough. Mello glares over Near's head, feeling his cheeks heat in embarrassment.

Their staring match is interrupted as Roger climbs in the driver's seat, craning around to count them. He sighs, visibly exhausted, at seeing Near next to Mello.

"Mello, am I going to have to separate you two?"

One of the girls giggles, and Mello's cheeks flush even more.

"You don't have to worry about me," he says irritably. "Tell the sheep to stick to his seat."

"I'll be okay," Near says, not even looking up at Roger.

Roger sighs again, but turns around, cranks the engine, and they're on their way.

The girls chat amiably. Matt sticks to his GameBoy, occasionally leaning over to say something to Linda, and Near fiddles with his toy. Mello gets bored of ignoring everyone after about ten minutes and turns to watch Near.

He's playing with one of those wooden block puzzles, where the goal is to get one brightly red piece to slide neatly out of the entrance. He watches Near fiddle with it for longer than expected, until Near finally clears an open line and frees the piece.

Near huffs a little, pleased. Suddenly, he turns to Mello and holds the puzzle up. "Want to try?"

Mello cocks his head and reaches out to snag the toy. "I'm only doing this because I'm bored," he says, "not because I think your stupid toy is cool or anything."

Near jerks the puzzle back, but before Mello can say something angrily, he mixes up the pieces on the block, setting it up for Mello to have a fresh start. He holds it back towards Mello, who grabs it silently.

"It's more fun when it's a challenge," Near says simply.

Mello doesn't know what to say, so instead he turns his attention back down to the block and begins. Near stays quiet, simply watching.

It's kind of fun. Mello will never actually admit it, but it scratches the itch for challenge in his mind.

And damn, Near mixed the pieces up well.

He finishes the puzzle, sliding out the little red piece, just as the van pulls into the store parking lot. Grinning, he looks sideways at Near and holds up the piece.

"Got it," he says, radiating satisfaction.

The corners of Near's mouth tilt up, and he gently takes the piece and toy back from Mello. "On the ride back, you can attempt to complete it faster than me."

Mello snorts. His chest feels warm. "Yeah, right. I definitely beat that faster than you!"

Near's eyes are bright. "Perhaps with a little more practice."

Mello opens his mouth to shoot back another comment, but Near doesn't wait to hear it, already slipping out of the backseat and heading towards the store without looking back.

Mello sits for a moment, an odd feeling in his chest that only occurred when Near smiled at him. He brushes it off and climbs out after him. Matt, waiting just outside the van door, steadies his arm as he trips out.

"Well," Matt says, amused, "that was new."

"What?"

"Oh, you know. Just you sitting next to Near and not trying to kill him for once."

Mello scoffs. "Shut up."

"It's a Christmas miracle!"

Mello shoves him.

———

The store is ridiculously crowded. There's still another week left until Christmas, but people are already out in swarm.

He and Matt split up at the sight of the crowd of people. Mello heads straight back for the toy section, pushing and shoving his way through. Luckily, the puzzles aren't really picked over, and he picks out a 1,000 piece puzzle with some picturesque mountain landscape on it.

Well, that was easy.

Roger gave them an hour to shop. It's barely been fifteen minutes. Groaning, he trudges off in the direction of the craft aisle, in search of Matt.

Said friend is found squatting on the floor, looking between two identical green paints.

"I'm done," Mello says. "Come on."

Matt waves him off. "Go check out." He holds the tubes up towards the light. "I have to pick the best shade."

Mello rolls his eyes. "Those are literally the same color."

Matt shushes him and squints even more at the paint.

Mello huffs and turns to head out. As he leaves, the white paint catches his eye. Near's voice echoes in his head, "It's more fun when it's a challenge." He grabs a tube and heads to check out.

———

For the ride home, Near gets into the other van. Mello doesn't know why this actually bothers him.

———

Only a couple of days before Christmas, Mello actually gets started on Near's gift. It's painstaking - painting each piece white, front and back.

Matt ribs him a little about it and snags a picture of him sprawled out on his stomach on the floor, legs kicked up in the air and tongue peeking out. Mello threatens to break his camera, but Matt laughs and hides it away. Pretty soon, it's all forgotten as he has to get back to painting.

When he's finally finished, it looks pretty damn great, if he says so himself. He's never been one for puzzles, so he doesn't bother to put it together by himself. He somehow cons Matt into doing it with him, and when it's finished, both of them stare at it.

"I think Near'll like it," Matt says, stretching out the crick in his neck, "but you could never pay me to do that again."

"It needs something else," Mello says, squinting down at it.

Matt shrugs. "I think the white looks good."

Mello doesn't disagree, but it sticks in the back of his mind until he sees Linda the next day. She's an artist; she'll be a better judge of style than Matt, who wears that same ugly vest and goggles everyday.

He waves her over. "Come look at this for me."

She looks confused, but follows him back to his and Matt's room. He points out the puzzle.

"Oh! That looks good. For Near, right?"

"It needs something else," he says bluntly, "but I don't know what."

She hums. "What about his name? Or initial?"

Mello considers it. "Can we make it small? The white - he says he likes a challenge."

She looks at him, amused. "Oh, so you've talked to him some more?"

"Shut up. Can you sketch an N or not?"

She grins and grabs a pencil off of Matt's desk. In the top left corner, she draws the N, stylized in the same font that L does his.

"What about this? You can paint it," she says, leaning back on her feet when she's done. "I have black paint you can borrow to fill it in."

"Thanks." It was exactly what he had in mind. She drops the paint off and he spends the evening doing delicate, small strokes so each line is straight.

He leaves it out to dry. Even Matt grudgingly admits it looks better than before.

There's still a couple more days until Christmas, but Mello can't help but be excited, even though the gift is for Near of all people. He thinks about the weird way he felt the other day when Near smiled at him. It probably is just excitement for the idea, no big deal.

———

The gift exchange takes place on Christmas evening, after dinner. Mello's been antsy all day, but he only started to get a little nervous once the meal was over. He's pretty sure Near will like the puzzle. After all, it's practically custom-built for the little twit. Still, his stomach twists uncomfortably as he watches Near from across the dining hall.

As if knowing Mello's thinking about him, Near looks up and catches his gaze. Mello immediately looks down at his food. He forces himself to look away for the rest of dinner, though he can still feel Near's eyes on him every now and then.

Everyone meets back up in the living area fifteen minutes after dinner. It's enough time to go back and grab the gift. He'd wrapped it the day before, so all he has to do is pick it up and head back with Matt. Matt has Linda's gift tucked under one of his arms, and his GameBoy under the other.

There's already a crowd of people waiting and chatting loudly. Matt and Mello sit with some of the other guys. Mello keeps one eye on the door, waiting for Near to walk in. As more and more people file in, Near still doesn't show. He shifts, antsy.

"Dude, relax," Matt says. "He'll show."

"I'll be pissed if I put in all this work for nothing," Mello grumbles.

Matt rolls his eyes. "Sure. That'll be why you're upset."

Before Mello can spit something back, Near walks in, just as composed as ever. He holds a small brown box in his hands, a deck of cards resting on top.

Matt nudges him. "What did I say?"

"Shut up."

"Everyone, quiet!" Linda stands up, cupping her hands over her mouth. "Is anyone not here? I think everyone's here. We're about to get started! I'll read off the names. If you have that person, bring them their gift. Easy?"

The room buzzes, and she flaps a hand to get everyone to be quiet.

"Okay, first off... Ronan?"

There's not a whole lot of students, but the exchanges still seem to drag. Mello occasionally throws peeks towards Near, who doesn't even look like he's paying attention. Instead, he's building a tower with his cards.

Linda calls her own name at some point and looks ridiculously excited over her new paints. Matt practically glows all the way back to his seat, which only grows more intense as he opens Hermine's gift for him - some brand new game for his console.

"Near!"

Near looks up expectantly when his name is called. Mello slowly gets to his feet at Matt's prodding, feeling the eyes of every other kid in the room. He hears some of them whisper as he walks by - after all, his and Near's rivalry has always been the subject of much gossip.

"How did Mello get him-"

"Poor Near, I bet-"

Mello ignores them and comes to a stop in front of Near. He holds out the gift. "Here," he says, gruffly. "Merry Christmas."

Near looks up at him, wide-eyed for only a moment before he composes his expression into something more neutral. He takes the box and scoots away from his cards.

Mello cringes inwardly, looking down at his sloppy wrapping. Near doesn't seem to care, though. He just calmly unwraps the puzzle box, displaying the mountain landscape.

"Thank you, Mello," he says.

Mello swallows and gestures lamely. "Open it. It's uh, not the mountains."

Near tilts his head at that, but he does as Mello says and opens the box. The pieces are all mixed inside, but Near holds up one of the ones with the black initial on it.

Mello is well aware that everyone's eyes are still on him. He sweats a little. "It's an all-white puzzle. Except for your initial. I, uh, painted everything on it." He clears his throat. "You said it's more fun with a challenge."

Near's face is devoid of all emotion, but his eyes are bright. "Thank you."

That's as much recognition as he's going to get, so he nods and turns back around. As soon as his back is turned, he hears the telltale sound of all the pieces hitting the floor. When he gets back to his seat, Near is already hard at work on his puzzle.

Matt looks at him, smug. "Better than a baby puzzle, huh?"

"Shut up."

Near looks up and meets Mello's gaze. He smiles, softly. Mello lets one side of his mouth tilt up.

Linda calls the rest of the names. Mello waits impatiently for his own name to be called.

"And last but not least, Mello!"

Much to his surprise, Near is the one who stands up and walks over to him. Mello takes the box Near hands him and tears it open, no regard for the neat wrapping. Inside is a stack of chocolate bars, twelve in total. He lifts one up and flips it over to see that dark chocolate content is 82.5%.

"This is my favorite chocolate," he says, a little shocked. "How the hell did you know that? I never can find it in stores. L special orders it for me for my birthday."

Near looks satisfied and doesn't answer his question. "It would be a year's supply for anyone but you," he says dryly.

Mello smirks. Near walks back to his spot, and Mello immediately tears into the first bar. The room titters.

Linda stands back up. "I think we're done! Thanks for participating, everybody. See you next Christmas!"

The room gets loud again as people start to trickle out. One of the other guys leans over to poke at Mello, smirking and taunting him about how he and Near got each other's names.

"What, you think I planned that?" Mello scoffs. "Yeah, right."

Matt jabs at him with his foot, already plugging his new game into his GameBoy. Linda comes by to speak to Matt, and Mello ducks away because he really doesn't want to see Matt's sappy expressions. Instead, he drifts closer to Near, until he squats down beside him. Near doesn't look up from the puzzle.

"Did you know I had you?"

"No," Near says. "Nor did I suspect you knew I had you." He tries to snap a piece into place, but it doesn't fit. He grimaces slightly.

Mello preens.

"It took me four hours to put it together," Mello says. He conveniently leaves out the fact that Matt was helping him. "Beat me. I dare you."

"You don't want me to take my time, enjoy my present?" Near's voice is too innocent for Mello to believe him.

"Smartass. Sounds like something someone would say when they know they can't beat my time."

The corners of Near's mouth tilt up into a smile, though he still doesn't look up. "Merry Christmas, Mello."

Mello snaps off another piece of his chocolate. Damn, that's the good shit. "Near." With that, he turns and leaves him to it.

———

The next morning, Mello walks through the living area on the way to the dining hall. In the corner, in Near's spot, the puzzle lays finished. A piece of paper rests on top, and he bends down to pick it up.

Six hours. - N

Mello can't help it. He laughs. "Merry Christmas, Near. Guess I'm still better than you, after all."

———

A/N: I slightly changed up Near’s classic all-white puzzle for this fic. In the show, you see Near working on it in the episode where Roger tells them that L died. But it actually has an L on it, not an N! But I thought it would be cute to have Mello spend so much time working on it for him out of spite (though, it’s not spite, it’s more of a crush, even if he’s not aware of it yet). Either way, I hope you enjoyed this! :)

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justicebled · 3 years

Text

genshin verse .

basically, yuri is a traveler, just a traveler, and an infamous one at that. not much is known about yuri save his first name, and the title, the black wolf. he thinks nicknames are mostly laughable, but it’s grown on him. he is his post-game age, 22 (you can find the skit in the japanese version of the game) and his element is electro (thank you flan) until i test out combos when i’m not obviously focusing on vesperia? unknown. but it will always be the direct opposite of his best friend’s, flynn scifo, who is a knight stationed in mondstadt.

frankly, yuri’s reputation for both causing well-intentioned trouble, going rogue in facing off against the fatui who make him cringe because they’re as he says, ‘too edgy’, or following his own pure, unrelenting code of morals and justice, walks an entirely unbeaten path. some say he’s from liyue. others from inazuma. some think he might be like the main character, he’s entirely enigmatic and not known for staying in one place for too long at all.

details below in bullet point.

god-modding someone who has for years as very famous rpg character / fighter protag has proven to be a beast strategically / physically. basically respect my character as i will respect yours. he is entirely adaptable at any range be it in hand to hand, martial arts, random items, using his body as a weapon or simply the sword alone, which he is a monster at. he also can use axes just as well but chooses the blade. he’s constantly experimenting weaponry in this verse, but underestimating yuri is probably not wise.

it’s certainly gotten fatui who have crossed paths with the not-quite-but-getting there wandering avatar of justice and vigilante / wanderer to an early, rather brutally quick grave. if he’s met with higher rank members and faced off, he’s also not mentioned it. to him, it’s more his personal choice to see if ‘punishing the unjust’ his personal credo, is worth involving in certain matters as a purely chaotic neutral. he can be hurt! but all fights are plotted, no exceptions. the fact he’s been involved in all this is not known to canon characters unless say diluc’s network / permission.

that said if you have a fatui character oc or canon, and they try to invade his room? please note yuri is canonly an adhd riddled insomniac and please talk to me if they know this. he’s eerily intuitive and he will not make it easy for you at all.

can never abandon anyone in need. literally. also probably the best big brother you could ask for if you get in his graces, but don’t expect not to get moments of his kind heart leaking through his guard (more like bleeding heart) and also giving you equally tough love. you have to follow your own path, is something yuri very much believes in!

he is the warrior that will chase you until you or HIM are out of commission either permanently or temporarily. applies really only to the evil / adversaries of the game / fatui.

safe to say he’s become many a nightmare fuel to those deserving. and even mentions in canon content that he has a ‘rage’ that can only be quelled until he’s satisfied in a good fight. basically screwing with yuri will land you with a broken rib or worse, unconscious for a good week or more.

yuri and flynn from time to time will as opposing elements, put on a show of a duel in the square, promising not to use any elemental abilities. with yuri’s exceeding reputation as a warrior going behind him, and also fully mastering his vision, flynn is someone who while more sheltered having lived in mondstadt longer, comes highly close to tying with yuri and vice versa, making flynn also a nightmare albeit quite a bit more predictable due to being rather straightforward in battle / ever putting chivalry first.

for yuri, who has seen far more of the world, this is the one verse he’s a bit above the playing field instead of just tying with flynn, which pisses his best friend off to no end and makes him train harder to this time, instead of yuri catching up? it’s flynn’s turn to catch up to him.

he took up a job at the winery part-time to make ends meet while he’s lingering in mondstadt. tends to think diluc is a tightwad but genuinely is someone he respects. if he interacts with him, but generally for a man with his fair share of legends as a fighter, enjoys seeing someone equally unimpressed with the fatui / unjust. save he’s far more easy-going in nature and his low baritone drawl tends to put others at ease...or pissed off because he always tells it like it is. he’s gained a nickname of ‘one of the best temporary chefs of mondstadt’ because he can cook a wide variety of dishes, everyone ends up satisfied.

token big brother figure to many party members and a prankster, voice dripping with sarcasm. he tells it like it is but is arguably one of THE Kindest / Unselfish Characters / Party Members you will acquire and genuinely gives a damn about the protagonist and their friends. doesn’t coddle them and actually is itching to at least have a spar or exchange moves with them as a sign of friendship.

repede constantly follows him, usually gathering information of whatever he wills it as his partner, and has quite a reputation himself for being elusive, unable to catch, and always reporting to his partner news of things both abroad and afar. guy knows his shit thanks to his partner and his own insane street smarts. openly admits he’s an ‘orphan’.

carries a blade called second star, who he constantly makes up convincing stories of where he got it from. again, unknown. he jokes that if he were to be another ‘vigilante’ in this town ‘diluc would run out of a job save being bored behind a counter’ to those that know the information, or if yuri himself was in the loop about his uh...nightly activities and...interesting name choice.

doesn’t care about really the whole ‘seven’ thing, respects them as people, but unless one tells him ‘hey i’m an archon’ he’s generally just like ‘well the people are happy about you. so don’t let them down ok ‘ because yuri is an individualist, he doesn’t like to be defined by systems, organizations, or even faith. not that he doesn’t think they exist, he just follows his own brand of living but he generally does believe venti exists. that said i can see him completely being friends with people like venti, and...probably bantering with zhongli.

genuinely a really benevolent, sarcastic, tough, and disturbingly strong warrior with some stories under his belt and big brother figure who loves a challenge far more than he should.

may bite off more than he should be chewing, but a wolf’s fangs run deep and if he bites, there will be blood. other than that? he’s just chilling and enjoying spending time with his best friend every day until the ‘itch’ of wanderlust catches him again.

yuri’s element, thanks to flan’s reddit post link is apparently the ‘vision of outsiders / strangers ‘ electro. so yuri is an electro user, and unless a flynn or vesperia cast member joins, he would be hydro in opposition to yuri. he doesn’t use it often? but he’s lethal either way. or you know, mildly zapping flynn who accidentially zaps the whole town with the shock effect...

is actually constantly traveling due to the large fatui target on his back. back a few years ago, safe to say he killed an influential figure within the fatui / either a harbinger before there were eleven or simply someone of high influence and combat on par with one. i mostly go with the former but either are viable, and it is not something known unless you’re affiliated with them / allies. that said yuri wanders because he wants to. liyue is probably next. but as ever, he won’t ignore someone in trouble, which lands him in trouble. but he never stops.

#𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐒 ✴ —— blood pools beneath your feet; shadowed heart; ragged bone and moonglow.#𝐕; 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍: the enigmatic moon. hide your fangs but a wolf is a wolf; your might inevitable.

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heart-forge · 4 years

Note

I don’t know if you’ve already mentioned it, but did you perhaps have any recommendations for games in the Racial Justice bundle on Itch? I purchased it because of course, games plus a great cause is a no brained, but it’s now 1600+ games and I’m so overwhelmed! Which ones should I play first?

I’m SO glad you asked because I did shade post on my main about how annoyed I am that game journalists are covering games in the bundle like Celeste and Octodad as if we all don’t already know they exist and they didn’t all respective spend a season covering and recovering both games. They’re part of this like. Baby AAA, because they don’t have the budget or employee-power of AAA, but for some reason people still put them in direct competition with single developers working with only one or two skill sets (or the rare one that’s trying to do art, coding, writing, and sound all on their own).

So, I haven’t gone all the way through the bundle yet. Not only am I working atm so I have to get done the day before I can dig it (plus also trying to work on my own games) but I’m also on my laptop which just straight up can’t run some of these things peacefully. So this isn’t extensive but I’m happy to name a few who are getting ignored because why doesn’t anyone care about free games, small games, or games where you don’t kill someone to death as the main mechanic.

Also keep in mind that I don’t really do a lot of table top gaming. Not enough to understand a lot about the free ttrpgs included. This Tumblr user seems to know a lot more about tabletop in general (I think it’s actually his job but like I just follow him so idk) and I believe he’s gone over the bundle. He’s also Canadian. Broadly that doesn’t matter but it matters to me.

And finally, there’s a LOT of game assets included in here from music to sprites, backgrounds, etc etc. These, and I cannot express this enough, are all useful to you if you’re the sort to need them. There’s a lot of lessons to take from 2020 but one of them is definitely take what you can get and use it as well as you can use it.

It Has a Studio Budget So It Goes First Because It Doesn’t Need My Ads

Pyre

I’ve written fanfic for this one! It’s not the best story Supergiant has ever told, and is in fact kind of disappointing as a narrative. It’s got moments of incredible character high that seem sometimes contradicted or flatlined by other moments. It’s a beautiul, beautiful game, it’s super fun to play, and the story is fun to experience, but as I was playing it way back during it’s launch, there’s several character arcs that are deeply frustrating, set pieces that don’t make any sense, and an ending which is deeply obnoxious. I still recommend it. As I said in the tags of a fanfiction that became someone else’s viral tumblr post, it’s a game about taking a group of ragtag misfit political criminals and turning them into a family and a basketball team. Please note that when you meet Hedwyn, he wears that headband because he has nubby little horns underneath. A dev said that like months after it was released and I think about it once a day.

Oxenfree

Yeah I know everyone knows Oxenfree, but it’s a genuinely fun, wild experience. It’s good for exactly two playthroughs and then you’re done with it. I just see it getting sidelined in favour of Celeste and it’s frustrating because I get it mainstream loves the game that’s difficult and you can brag about being good at it and I’m positive Celeste is a great game but it’s one of those ones that were just beat to death in their season of coverage and it’s frustrating when game journalists hold them up as like the only one of their kind or similar to another super popular difficult game.

Okay Now On to Some That I Have Experience With

Night of the Consumers

The link is to a YouTube playthrough which doesn’t show any proper endings but does step through gameplay and stuff. I do like John Wolfe’s channel in general, as long as you don’t go too far past like 2015. Anyway, this game is basically, you’re trying to do your actual retail job of stocking shelves while people ferociously hunt you up in the aisles to help them find things in very clearly labelled aisles. You know, like real life. There’s also like this lowkey thread about a previous coworker going missing but the video doesn’t cover that.

Babysitter Bloodbath

Linked is another John Wolfe video, mind you he does complete the game so like...don’t watch til the end if you want a surprise?

Babysitter Bloodbath is the answer to the question “what if instead of dying in the first three minutes, the hopelessly trapped-by-a-serial-killer babysitter told her charge to run and then proceeded to go full Rambo”. Avoid a killer while trying to gather the means to kill him and escape, with what I believe is old fashioned tank controls although I can’t be positive.

Secret Little Haven

I just finished this one last night and keep in mind that it’s a deeply upsetting game. I don’t even really have any of the associated triggers warned for and it was still upsetting, and also a little visually difficult to parse sometimes (ie chromatic aberration, screen glitching), but it’s a nice story and it’s not a tragic ending no matter how bad things get. Some story instructions (ie do this to continue) are a little difficult, but there’s guides online. Just remember, it’s LS not IS.

Democratic Socialism Simulator

This was published in Feb 2020 and it does show, but not in a terrible way but just in the way where the progressive choice is to fund police training and not just getting rid of them altogether but to be fair to the developer, it wasn’t May yet. Otherwise this is a very fun game where you’re trying to manage money, the social power of the people, emissions, and your own hold on congress. Everyone is an animal. I’m a little bit in love with the Civil Rights Leader.

Catlateral Damage

Link to a Polygon overview of the game feat Griffin and Justin McElroy. This should probably be up there with Pyre because it received mainstream coverage but I don’t want to misinterpret the actual resources of the developer so I’ll put it down here. You’re a cat, knock stuff down. Pretty straightforward, I’m not like jazzed about it, but it’s notable.

Hidden Folk

This is a very fun find-it game. The difficult varies per level and afaik there’s no like, “okay I give up find it for me” button. Each “find this” prompt comes with a clue to indicate where on the map it is. I play this before bed.

Plant Daddy

A short and fun experience with a dedicated plant community. Grow plants, complete objectives, design two rooms, name your plants, buy some more stuff...I finished it in like three days but it was a wonderful, soothing experience.

The White Door

Part of the Rusty Lake series, The White Door is a narrative puzzle game. The link is to another Wolfe video, who again completes the game so mind how long you watch the video for. It’s kind of dark and can sometimes be pretty gross, but I like that kind of game where you listen to the story and solve puzzle to send it along. The story ties in to a larger Rusty Lake narrative but afaik this is the only game of theirs in the bundle. If you want to know more about the plot, however, it’s out there. I also know that there’s some smaller scale I believe? Rusty Lake puzzle games that are free apps.

As We Know It

This one was free from the developer at the start of quarantine I believe (who can remember that far back?), so some of you may now double own it. That’s okay, because it’s a nice game about finding a place in the community and hooking up with someone while doing it. Highly replayable, narrative VN.

Game Development Cheat Sheets

These are PDFs for like...hey, do you like video games but no one ever told you how to make them or that it was a totally reasonable choice to begin making them? And you wanna do game development? Give these a review. If you’re a little more experienced they may not be super useful but if you’re just jumping in with the question “oh god what now?” then these have some advice for you.

Cardinal Chains

This is a puzzle game, you fill the whole box sequentially. So if some boxes have the number one inside, those have to be filled before the boxes that have the number two in them, and so on and so forth, Lately I find myself craving some puzzle games.

Golf Peaks

You get cards with numbers on them, which indicates how many boxes the ball can travel through. Putting those cards together, you build yourself a golf shot with the goal of sinking it before you run out of cards. Again, this is a nice relaxing puzzle game.

fugue

I like fugue. You do math, you make music. I didn’t know you did math. This game took me a long time to finish the first world. This game tricked me into doing math. One level took me thirty eight tries to get right. I’m not good at math.

Hot Pot Panic

Pretend to listen to your friend while you try to make hot pot. I was pretty good at this one but burning food is so distressing.

OH I JUST FOUND THIS ONE SKIMMING THROUGH:

The Twine Grimoire Volume 1

I haven’t looked through it but it covers some HTML and CSS for Twine so if yall were curious...

OH NO THE BUNDLE DOES INCLUDE IMSCARED. I remember being so fucking afraid of that game in high school. I watched a pt and I was less scared of it but also I wasn’t personally playing.

Play With Gilbert

Another cat simulator. I’m not their biggest fan but it can be relaxing for sure.

Anyway I’d love to do a deeper dive on all the games to pick out some real obscure ones but I haven’t had the time yet so I’ve been focusing on puzzle games that I can peacefully stop and start again.

#talkForge #itch bundle #Anonymous

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gukptune · 5 years

Text

— user: 95mochibuns, 2 (m.)

↛ jimin x reader

everyday you sit on the same overly expensive gaming chair and play games on stream, with the occasional trip to the bathroom, eating and well, watching your favourite camboy’s streams. never in a million years did you think you’d be chatting up your biggest crush, neither did you imagine he’d figure you out so easily

↛ genre: camboy!au, streamer!reader, smut

↛ warnings: explicit language, masturbation, phone sex, public sex, use of a sex toy, rough, spanking, thigh fucking (inspired by one of my other upcoming fics), oral (cunnilingus), etc.

↛ words: 5k+

↛ note: part 2 and end of mochibuns! hope you’ll enjoy and thank you for the patience for this part.

Hey. It was that hey that had your head ravelled up in a twist. How were you meant to respond to your ultimate crush and the guy who’s made your life so hard for the past few months or so, fuck. You didn’t know how to respond, so you didn’t.

You went through your day as if nothing had bothered you, well you tried. Constantly feeling an itch on the back of your head reminding you of something you weren’t confident enough to do, gosh, what were you so scared of. You finished your day at University like usual and made your way home with a fresh new game to stream.

Even though, it wasn’t your usual stream day you had to race against time, you didn’t want to see any possible spoilers or anything at all about the game. You wanted to experience it first and hoped that your fans would appreciate your enthusiasm for the game.

As you settled yourself down with a change of clothing for comfort your eyes glanced at the phone on your desk, at least if you responded now you had no time to be embarrassed or overthink you needed to stream.

Taking a deep breath you managed to respond with something quite lacklustre.

you: hey :) [21:23]

You rubbed your face with your palm, cursing at how lame that was. But you had to move on from it. Jumping on a surprise livestream as your fans joined in with speed.

“Hello, everyone, welcome welcome! I hope you’re all excited and happy about this surprise stream as you know I’ve been waiting for this moment since my childhood and finally it is here! It’s here early!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands still not revealing the surprise to your fans as they commented questions and responses.

With a large smile you continued, “Finally! I have in my hands the long awaited Resident Evil 2! Thank you so much to Capcom for sending me the game before many and allowing me to show the first part to you guys. Resident Evil 2 comes out tomorrow on all platforms so get your copy to play along with me.”

myherotodoroki: so excited!

ghoulingtokyo: holy shit you got early access! yesss!

joker_r: let’s all be prepared to cry in fear

“I’m honestly terrified but I have you all to carry me,” You laughed, knowing that you were definitely going to take your entire life to get through this damned game.

Reading the ever so flooding comments you couldn’t help but hear the constant buzzing of your phone through your headphones as nothing was playing through it but the title screen with low music.

You were hoping your followers wouldn’t notice it as you tried to ignore it, it must’ve been him it couldn’t be anyone else. You weren’t particular texting people all the time and well, most of your notifications were turned off.

You continued into the game as you interacted with your audience, seeing the rolling comments helping you through the game and praising you through tough moments. Any time a zombie would show up your heart would explode and well, everyone seemed to like it.

Then surprisingly a donation came through, which you forgot to turn off, your audience doesn’t donate as you’ve told them many times before you didn’t need them but you’d get the occasional newbie or weirdo who’d donate so you’d read their comment.

MOCHI has donated $50

mochi: Why don’t you answer my texts...? :’(((((

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head, you might’ve stuttered a little, the concerned comments of your audience had you worried that they might’ve thought it was something bad.

“It’s alright guys, just a friend I was playing hard to get with,” You eased the tension in the chat box. Eyeing that damned comment as it went away slowly.

As you ventured on you knew you’d have to answer him before he freaks everyone out again, you excused yourself for a second to go to the bathroom as you swiped your phone along with you nonchalantly.

You pulled the toilet cover down as you sat on it, looking at the few texts that Jimin had sent, immediately making you open it and read it.

jimin: Finally, i’ve been waiting! [21:23]

jimin: I see that you’re quite busy though. :( [21:24]

jimin: Am I not worth your time? [21:24]

jimin: I’m just kidding, that’s cheesy. [21:24]

You rolled your eyes at his visible clinginess that you never knew that he’d be for you.

you: you freaked everyone out you jerk. [21:48]

As if immediately like he was awaiting your response.

jimin: I’m sorrrryyy, I just wanted to talk to you. [21:49]

Gosh, he was cute. It was surely him, you had checked if it was him. His twitter was indeed himself with many followers and pictures of him. You just couldn’t believe it.

you: and it had to be right now? [21:49]

jimin: Wellll, I texted you last night! [21:50]

Right, he did. And you didn’t respond.

jimin: I want to call you. [21:53]

Fuck. You couldn’t say no to that, it was Park Jimin for fucks sake. You eased up and sent your phone number to him casually. He had seen it and seemed to be calling you. With a blink of an eye a random number was calling, must’ve been him.

You answered, hearing not much but heavy breathing.

“Hello?” You said, hoping for at least some sort of sign that he was at least a live and is himself.

You could hear a bit of a tussle before a response, “Oh, shit, hey, hello.”

His chuckle running through your ears, you felt as if you were watching his lives instead of actually talking to him. With that you could hear a tinge of his accent, “I’m so sorry, I forgot that I was the one that called.”

“How are you?” he adds quickly, his voice wavering.

“I’m alright, I was streaming until you know...” You teased.

You could hear him huff, “Ops, I guess. Aren’t you in the bathroom? Peeing?”

“Nope, I might’ve lied, didn’t want you to freak people out even more. They literally thought you were some stalker, Jimin!” You laughed, explaining to him the situation hoping he’d not do it again.

He lets out a groan for some odd reason, “Uh, could you say my name again, please?”

You didn’t see why not so you did, “Jimin?”

That’s when he lets out a rather strangled moan, fuck, was he really?

“_____, you wouldn’t have happened to notice how we’re so effortlessly casual with eachother? As if we know eachother?”

You swallowed, not really following in what he was saying, “Uhm, I’m not sure what you mean, I assume you know me since you do follow me— sorry for not noticing it before.”

Of course you had fucking noticed that he followed you.

He let’s out a chuckle, a breathy one, “Yes, I do watch your streams but you seem to be very friendly to me, even though you seemingly don’t know me, you surely don’t follow me, I’m just a stranger, right?”

His voice lingering in your ears as you tried to process what was actually going on. You must’ve taken your time as he spoke before you could.

“I do keep track of the members on my account, I check their profiles every now and then, I think you should change your email— the one on your twitter strangely matches that of one, peachbubbles.”

Oh for fucks sake. You were dead, ruined, you can’t come back from his. Maybe your silence fed into his victory, he’s exposed you pretty much, was this his true intention. Why were you stupid enough to use your own email.

“Don’t worry about it, only I can see the email, love,” He hisses as the end as if he was in pain.

Making you wonder, “Hey—are, are you in pain or are you...”

He lets out a laugh, an octave lower than his usual tone.

“You’ve figured me out again, I was wondering how long it would take it.” He reveals without a care in the world.

You nearly scream, but kept it in knowing your stream was still running, “What the fuck, how are you so shameless?”

“Oh come on, I know you’re damn kinky, _____, if you don’t remember I occasionally jack off to your pretty face and you just so happened to bless me with a surprise stream where I could see your pretty plump red lips scream, in fear but I pretend it’s for me.”

He was good, he knew what to do to make a girl squirm. God, you were squirming in your seat already, he made it hard, so hard. You were dripping, you could feel the wetness below you sinking into your sweatpants.

You needed to go now.

“Look, Jimin, I have to go,” You rubbed your head in frustration, “I have people waiting.”

Jimin whines audibly, “Wait, please. We could—”

“I really want to, god I do, but they’ll get suspicious. My fans are nosey... also I promised someone to play tonight—”

“Urh, who’d you promise, one of your guy friends, god, if you stream that shit I’ll get so fucking jealous,” He groans, you could hear the slapping of skin through the speakers he was going at it hard.

“Maybe it is, maybe I’ll stream it. I’m sure you could get yourself off just watching my pretty lips right, I’ll talk to you later.” You ended the call before he could respond, you could practically here the phantom of his own frustrations.

You tried to get your mind off the imagery of him jacking off, reminding you of last night and his glorious dick, you actually talked to him. Him. You weren’t about to fangirl over a damn camboy but you fucking are.

You woke up without a care in the world, stretching over your pillows, cozying into your fluffy sheets. Pretty much letting out moans at how comfortable you feel. Then of course, getting a sinking feeling knowing that you had to get up to University soon. It was always the worst part, getting up, after that everything was simple and easy.

That’s when you notice the message on your phone screen, blinking back at you.

jiminie: Where do you happen to live again? [8:12]

You blinked for a second wondering why he would ask that. You then proceeded to write back the city you currently study in, he seemed to be taking a while to respond after reading it.

jiminie: Well, isn’t it a coincidence that I happen to be here? :0 [8:15]

You froze for a second, he was here. As in breathing the same air as you right now. The question that stayed on your mind was why he was here, he lived in Seoul.

you: 0.0 [8:16]

jiminie: I happen to have been invited to a birthday party, of a friend. I mostly agreed knowing I’d be able to see you. [8:17]

jiminie: Surprise? [8:17]

It hadn’t been the longest time you two had texted back and forth, it was difficult with the time differences but both of you seemed to like staying up late in the night. He tuned into your streams as you did his as usual. Maybe making you feel a sense of pride knowing that every time someone would ask him how it was between you he’d pretend nothing had happened and play it off. Reading all those comments of girls wanting him, yet here he was completely and only focused on you.

He would even mouth your name as he came every now and then, as cheesy as it was winking to the camera knowing that you would be the only one to be able to catch that.

Maybe it made you wonder if he had anyone else, it would be strange to think that he wouldn’t have had anyone else. He didn’t seem like that type of guy but he must’ve had someone before right... or you had too much faith in him.

You guys hadn’t called or video chatted the same way that night nearly went, it was strange, he was only asking you about you. Maybe he did like you and want to know you.

In the end both of you were interested in each other first and for-most for each other’s looks, what you saw online.

you: i have uni :( [8:22]

jiminie: I can meet you after, I’ll pick you up? [8:23]

You wondered if that would be a good idea, after all you would get off super late.

you: uhm [8:27]

jiminie: Do you not like the idea? I could always wait elsewhere? [8:27]

you: it’s not that [8:28]

you: i have practice, it ends pretty late in the evening :[ [8:28]

jiminie: What kind of practice? [8:29]

you: volleyball [8:29]

jiminie: 0.0 [8:32]

jiminie: Really? [8:32]

you: yea... [8:32]

jiminie: Shit, that’s kinda hot. Am I allowed to watch? [8:34]

you: omg. and i think so? there’s no rules against it and we get parents around sometimes [8:35]

jiminie: Fuck, I honestly thought you just didn’t want to see me. And, now I get to see you in tight little booty shorts, am I dreaming? [8:35]

you: of course i want to see you loser! [8:37]

you: dreaming? thought you stopped being cheesy. [8:37]

jiminie: Never baby. [8:39]

jiminie: Get to school, loser. I’ll see you after! <3 [8:39]

At least he gave you some sort of motivation to get the day over with. You still couldn’t believe it, or believe him. Were you really going to see him, was he honestly even real. You won’t even believe it until you could see him with your own eyes.

Beads of sweat dripped down your chin as you leaned over on your knees trying to catch your breath. Eyes shut from the world as you tried to lower your heart rate. You of course were running laps around the court because your teammate couldn’t stop a spike, it was brutal.

Even if your spikers were some of the best in the country the blockers needed to be better or at least good enough to catch up. As a team you needed to take the punishments together and well you all hated laps and that’s what you had to do.

As you finished first you could hear your teammate chanting her apology comedically as she ran, maybe you laugh, though choking in pain as well from catching your breath.

You went over to the bench and pulled your shorts out from being completely attached to your bottom. Picking up your water bottle, you looked around at the spectators but nothing.

No sign of him.

Maybe he lied, you rolled your eyes thinking that you’ve just hoped for the best and go the worst which wasn’t something that happened often. You were taught to hope for the best but prepare for the worst, and you were prepared. Prepared to just walk your ass home after practice.

With that and a call out from your coach you jogged over to join the team as you finally began to actually play versus. Your team only had the best and weren’t so plentiful so you were to practice with the boys team which in all honestly was not as good as you. They are bigger, hit harder but that made your team extremely resilient and able to take physically larger opponents but well you can’t say much for their skills.

When practice ended you were still picking up the rest of the equipment with it being only you and a few of the boys left. Most of the girls had ran into the locker rooms and showered, leaving as quickly as they can to do what they needed after.

You took your time, knowing that you weren’t in need of rushing for anything or well anyone. You’ve put away all you could and grabbed your duffle bag including the rest of your things and headed into the locker room.

Humming a tune you looked around seeing no one in sigh, plopping your bag down on the ground you opened your locker and pulled out your school bag and extra clothes to change into.

You had thought no one else was here but you could hear rather loud cracking steps, turning around with your hands still fumbling through the locker you saw no one. Thinking it was someone rummaging through their locker on the other side.

You pushed the thoughts away as you finished up, shutting your locker until you left a strange presence. That strange presence of something behind you.

“You are truly good at hiding that ass in those sweats.”

You screamed before turning around, throwing your handful of clothes towards the voice. Having all of that just fall into the person’s hand as he caught it.

Jimin’s eyes widened before realising how scary it must’ve been, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His smile nearly blinds you as you stare back at him blankly completely still no knowing how to react to him being in here.

“I—uh, had to sneak in, I assumed your school doesn’t let guys into the girl’s locker room,” He smiled again, handing your the clothes as he hopped over the bench in between the two of you.

You took the clothes back, hugging them close to you, replying breathlessly, “I thought you ditched me.”

“I would never. Traffic’s a mess here.” His hand coming up to brush your hair off your face as you closed your eyes to feel his palm falling against the shell of your ear.

Opening them to see that he’s stepped much closer to you now, feeling his breath on your face.

“Why did it sound like you were wearing heels?” You teased, looking down at his choice of footwear.

He lifted his heel up to show you his shoes as he brushes fingers through his hair, “I guess they’re kind of heels.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t slip in here with those shoes.”

Jimin’s hand fell towards the base of your neck and his other hand made it’s way up your waist, “I’m lucky haven’t been caught getting in here with these clicky heels.”

“That is true, you’re lucky to have bypassed the boys team lurking around,” You smiled, feeling his hand squeeze at your side pulling you to him.

Finally, taking a fully look at him. He didn’t sport his coloured contacts, neither is his hair a light blonde, more of a light brown now. He looked even better in person and well, if you get to it he’s dressed so effortlessly well enough to make you crawl on your knees.

He must’ve noticed your silence and wandering eyes. Taking his bottom lip in between his teeth the man let his hand slide down towards his most anticipated attraction.

Taking a rather mighty squeeze at it, making you let out a breathy gasp right at his cheeks as he pulls you up.

His lips now skimming over your ear, “You make it so hard, you’re making me so fucking hard.”

If anytime was the time now was it. You placed your lips against his cheek, letting it attach and pull away with a pop, “Oh yea? Why don’t you show me.”

He lets out an audible breath of amusement as turns you around and pushes you down onto the spacious bench. Keeping himself stood tall, “I knew you were kinky as soon as I laid eyes on your Devil May Cry walkthrough, baby, watching me all those times before we talked too.”

“My dirty girl,” He bites his lips as he groans, his thumb playing with your bottom lip as he undoes his belt skill-fully with one hand. Allowing your excitement to brew as you squeezed your thighs together, arching your back with your head looking up at him.

Moaning into his thumb as he pushes it through your lips, letting your tongue play with it as your eyes batted at him lustfully.

As soon as he let his erection out of it’s tight holding you were shocked to see now strained the thing looked. He must’ve been holding it in for the longest time, “Painfully hard it seems, huh?”

Gracing your fingers against it, he shudders as he watches you ingulf his thumb, as if it was his cock you went hard. He could practically be drooling at the sight infront of him, “Like I said, teeny tight booty shorts on that juicy ass.”

He choked on a moan as soon as your hand took him, he was relatively large, thick more than anything. Wet and hot, enough to make you want to take him already, it would just fit so perfectly.

As soon as you began to pump back and forth on him you seemed to get stuck on the way to his pelvis, his long shirt covering the top part from your eyes. With that he takes his hand away from you, with a lewd pop he grins at the string of spit dragging between them.

He pulls up his shirt to show you what had been in the way, of course it was a cockring.

“Thought you’d like it, baby.”

You did, the tight band holding his cock making it enlarge in size by the mere pressure. You could see the small bullet on the top part of it, god, that would feel so good.

“I want you so bad,” You whined, pulling at his top and running your hand underneath it to feel his ripped body underneath.

He hummed in return looking around as if unsure of the choice of location, “I don’t know, baby, I’ve never done it in public before, are you sure about this. I won’t be able to stop if you let me.”

As much as he was a self titled porn star, the boy only appeared to his fans by himself, never had he had a girl with him. Yet, here you were about to let a camboy fuck you against a bench in your team’s locker room, what had you become.

“Please, Jimin.”

As if animalistic-ally, he groans pushing you back into the bench allowing you to lay against the grooved surface. He pulls his shirt over his head with one motion and continues to pull his pants down over his thighs, giving you a full sight of all his glory. As he if was allowing you a moment to take it in, the boy’s abs flexing as he breathed, his unshaven navel dragging your eyes to his jewels.

You furrowed your eyebrows with a pout as if rushing him, making him sniffle a chuckle as he kneels over on the relatively spacious bench by your legs, pulling them apart to see your shorts drenched from your own juices.

“Baby’s all wet for me, huh? Fuck, I can’t wait to fuck your insides out,” He growls, reminding you much of his teasing when he’d do his livestreams. Your core clenching against itself, wanting some sense of friction with his holding your thighs back.

His hands made quick work of the tight shorts, grabbing them by the elastic on your waist he pulls them down along with your panties leaving you bare from the bottom and sporting only your long sleeve uniform top.

Instantly the man slid his finger down your slit, making your breath hitch as your body reacted to the long awaited touch. Your hips thrusting up at him wanting more, he listened and bites his lip dragging his fingers down towards your clenching hole not getting a touch on your clit.

“Uh—ah,” You moaned as soon as his fingers began teasing your leaking self, your lips parted letting out heavy breaths constantly. Trying your best to keep your eyes on the sight with your elbows holding you up.

Without a warning he plunges into you, two fingers dragging in and out of you with a curve, giving you only sensations of pleasure. You were fucking wet and he couldn’t wait to taste that.

Jimin pulled you up by the back of your thighs to hoist your bottom into his lap, feeling his large erection pressing against your ass as his tongue flattens against you nearly making you scream from simulation or the lack of simulation on your clit now having a full on twist and twirl on it.

He sucked and ate you out like he was starved, his fingers deep inside of your as he curls his fingers at the right spots, allowing your first high to come, “Fuck, come for me baby, I want you to drench me.”

And that you did, as you came down you wanted to feel him, rushing to place your hand over his shoulders as for the first time you two had your lips against eachother. You could still taste yourself against his tongue, but it didn’t matter, it was dirty, hot and wet. Your lips moving against eachother like no tomorrow, Jimin letting out grunts past his lips as you felt his cock twitch against you.

“Fuck me, Jimin,” You mumbled against his lips, he curses with a smirk on his face and pushes you down with his weight. Leaning over you he runs his lips against your neck, nipping and biting at the skin that he could before his hands push your top up over your chest.

He grunts from the sight of your breasts and immediately pulls the bra up over to free them, fucking them with his tongue as his hand played with himself. Pulling at his balls as he wetted himself with your cum.

Jimin hisses as his lips came back up and brushed against the side of your ear, “I can’t let you have me that easily baby, you should know, I fucking love teasing.”

Of course he did, you whined as you smacked him against his biceps knowing that you were hoping for it too much.

He picks up your legs and held them together as he lifted them to place them over his right hip, “We’re going to play a little more.”

He puts one of his knees up on the bench from what you could see as his other leg braces him against the ground, pulling his pants lower down his thighs to show you how nice they were, fuck, they were thick.

He takes a hold of your hands that were holding onto him and pushes them over your head, “Keep ‘em up or I won’t fuck you, alright.”

Dominant Jimin was the best kind of Jimin when he was horny, shit, his eyes were dark and his goal was to make you and himself feel good. You nod gripping onto the end of the bench with your arms up over your head.

Something you’ve never experienced began, he slipped his cock through your thigh brushing it against your lips. You rolled your head back at the strange new sensation of having his cock head slipping back and forth between your thigh and running against your clit so hard.

“Never done this before?” He grunts, thrusting back and forth as you watch his tip leaking precum.

You shook your head, your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head from the precise clit stimulation, “No-fuck, I feels so good, what the fuck.”

“It’s about to feel much better.”

He takes a moment to pause before turning on his cock ring, and going right at it. The vibrating ring hitting your clit whenever he’d fuck past the hilt, you watched as his cock head appeared and disappeared every time he’d thrust.

You couldn’t keep it in anymore, you mouth speaking for itself as your stomach clenched and shook from the insane pleasure. Overstimulation at it’s best, you wanted to scream but also didn’t want to get caught. Dropping your head back as you could feel yourself clenching so hard without anything inside, never had you felt like cumming so fucking hard.

Jimin’s breathing chokes up as he nears his high too, with his cock tip pooling with cum he skillfully slips himself inside of you, the rough and fullness making tears pool out of your eyes. Jimin’s pleasure was audible now, not able to hold himself in anymore.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, this ring isn’t making things-easier, fuck.”

Spluttering as he nearly creams himself, he leans over you and begins to kiss down your neck, whispering dirty things to you, “Baby girl, you’re taking me so well, fuck- come on, come real hard for me.”

God, he had his ways with words as your body reacts on it’s own. Clenching hard against his thick cock and with the added vibrating ring you were gone. Jimin didn’t last much longer as he thrusts a last time as he bottoms out inside you letting himself fill you whole.

He awaits your breathing and pulls out, watching the cum leak as he did. He squints turning off the ring as he pulls it through his dick and drops it against the ground. Rubbing his hand up and down your thigh as your collected yourself.

Pulling your bra down as well as your top, you sat up feeling the hot cum still coming out of you. Sitting on Jimin and your own hot cum felt strange, strangely hot.

You grinned, bringing a hand up to place on his cheek as you pulled him in for a kiss, “That was way too good.”

Jimin shyly laughed, rubbing his head.

“Honestly, I think you ruined plain penetration for me.”

He shakes his head, turning to bite your hand playfully, “I could still make you cum harder with just my plain dick and some hard fucking, baby, next time I’d prefer doing this in a bedroom.”

“Same, it’s so damn humid now.”

“Think that’s our fault, the heat and the wet floor.” You both looked down at the mess you both made, you laughed wrapping your arm over his shoulder and peppering his neck with kisses.

He chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist tightly, “You know, I’m obligated to shoot tonight.”

“Wanna give my audience a fucking lesson?”

c. 2019

#jimin #park jimin #jimin smut #bts smut

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ben-10-setting-omnicrom · 4 years

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Transhuman writing practice, Gwen exploration

This is just a practice piece for transhumanist descriptions. What better than someone who is wearing a meat suit and can shrug it off like how one shrugs off a coat?

Also this is going to be written like everything else I write, off the top of my head and no actual outline just a vague idea.

Do be sure to R&R if you like.

--------

The first time Gwen felt free, truely free like how she'd always imagined Ben felt whenever he stepped into the shoes of another species, was when she shed her skin and showed her true inner self in all it's radiant and terrible glory.

Magenta light scattered off her skin as the fragile nature of her biology was swept aside by the surge of her emotions as she saw the Highbreed stroll with even steps to finish off Kevin. Her needs to help, to preserve the precious life she'd grown attached to rent her cells and physical matter apart as the light shone like a star around her. In what seemed like both a instant and an eternity she was replaced with her true self, Life itself made manifest and given a persona of it's very own. For a brief moment she stared at all the things her human eyes could never show her, the thrum of life that beat to some cosmic song that was both familiar and hauntingly new. She could feel everything, the Mana field encompassing all of reality was open to her every whim and fancy. She could peer into the very nexus of Mana across the Multiverse, a place that felt more of home than any place she'd ever been.

She closed her eyes to revel in the sheer impossibility of her own senses as she understood the truth of the saying that Life always finds a way. She could taste the very essence of reality, the fear emenating from the Highbreed that dared to harm what was hers was quickly growing to be her favorite flavor of all. Her eyes snapped open as she glared imperiously at the gnat that had the audacity to snuff out Life, with a quick force of will she sent him flying as she turned to face the soon to be invading fleet of ships.

She knew if she drew on more of her power she could /unmake/ the fleet as simply as she unmade herself, with just the slightest thought she could command the very essence of Magic itself to jettison them to anyplace she chose... but something was holding her back. A little insistent whisper, a word of warning to not pull too much at the deepthless ocean of power at her command least she lose herself in it. With a start she realized the words weren't coming from within but from Kevin, his voice pleading for her to stop. That he didn't want to win, not like this. She looked down and frowned at how distant the sensation of his arms around her was, being only able to hold a small portion of herself spread through multiple realities all at once. That most of all swayed her to knit her body and clothes together, yeerning to feel his warmth and strong arms around her again, her cosmic awareness dimming to normal human levels leaving her to stumble back from the sense of immense loss.

She shivered slightly not because of her near loss of self but because a part of her yearned to be one with the universe even now.

Against her better judgement she found herself practicing it in the safety of her room warded from detection or disturbance from her parents, and discovered how Mana weaved into reality to bring forth the effects of her spells, each a diffrent etching and piece of art in it's own right. Each dip into the cosmos had her able to keep her sense of self more and more by the day, until she could step in and out of her body at a moments notice, herself just the same in either form having long grown used to the shock of her expanded senses.

The first time she entered the Ledgerdomain, Realm of Magic and source of all Mana, she found herself in the one place she could truely call home. She knew in the back of her mind that the power she felt here in her human form wouldn't be anything compared to how she'd feel if she slipped off her proteins and the spaces between atoms. She could feel the itch under her skin as the phantom feeling of being made of power grew harder to ignore, the only thing stopping her was the fear of being overwhelmed by the nature of her surroundings. Her mind flew back to her first glipse of it that fateful day she first shed her skin.

Even so far away it was the brightest thing she's ever seen, the most majestic and awe inspiring force she'd ever witnessed, endless potential and possibility like a big bang held in the palm of your hand. She knew instinctively that if she were to glow and set herself free, there was a very real possibility of her being swept away by the sheer potential of the Mana around her, it drowning out her cries and humanity leaving her nothing more than Life run amuck. Unchained and uncaring about right and wrong, a living cancer strong enough to consume all in it's way.

The first time she saw the Alpha Rune she could feel it's call in her very soul, the true origin of Life across every universe and linchpin of reality. She knew that if she grabbed it and possessed it her depth of power would be truly boundless, it sharing with her it's True Name and giving it's user admin access to the very foundations of Mana and Magic. It's insidious call was almost too much to bear, the only thing stopping her from grabbing it outright was her need to survive Adwaita's onslaught finding her magic irreverent to the tyrants overwhelming mastery of it and the unique biology his spacies possessed to be selectively magic immune.

Even upon escaping it's reach she found herself thinking of it from time to time, how it might feel to know things no one should, to be truly able to hold all of life in your grasp. She shivers to herself as she wonders if this is how Ben feels whenever he goes Alien X or if she'd be driven mad by it like Kevin has been from taking in too much energy. She shivers even more at the fact she can't quite stop herself from dreaming about it, stop herself from the phantom feeling of being not only in tune with life but able to shape it as she pleases, having full grasp over the 5th fundamental force that played the rest to it's tune and shaped all there was. She even sometimes finds herself casting out her senses just to stare at it, her subconscious opening up infinitesimal dimensional vortices to it's location before she comes to her senses and wills herself to not draw in the Mana within herself that seeped out like a siren's call.

-----

It's safe to say this got away from me... at least I tried. It's also great practice for that hypothetical Top Tier Team Ben one shot I've been meaning to write for a while now where all of Team Ben stumbles upon what I figure their max output could hypothetically be given the correct circumstances and the logical conclusions to their powers turning up to 11. Which if you're curious is Gwen fusing with the Alpha Rune and Charms of Bezel to allow her free reign of movement without destabilising Ledgerdomain (allowing her to basically BE the anthropomorphic realization of the True Name of Magic/Mana), Ben fusing with the Omnitrix with Ultimate Function and it's AI, and Kevin being able to freely shift into and control any matter/energy (which given the esoteric forms of energy in setting would basically allow him to be any when/where via time fuckery).

I'm not really sure how to end this so I'll just post it as it is.

It isn't strictly speaking complete but what do you think of what's there?

#ben 10 #ben 10 alien force #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 omniverse #ben tennyson #gwen tennyson #kevin levin #highbreed #magic #my writing #character exploration #charmcaster #adwaita

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starkerforlife6969 · 5 years

Text

Starker, Hacker Peter part 2

Read part 1 here.

Peter takes another huge bite of the fluffy scrambled eggs and the buttery toast and thinks, as far as interrogations go, this isn’t too bad.

He’s good, but he’s not brilliant, and there have been a few close shaves. Definitely a few kidnappings which led to interrogations which are nothing like this sunny breakfast at Tony Stark’s marble-top kitchen counter.

Those interrogations had involved steel chairs and tight ropes and a lot of bruises.

This involves pure deliciousness.

It occurs to him, on the fourth gulpful of OJ, that Tony is watching him with unmasked interest.

Peter licks the crumbs from his lips and pauses. “Uh…”

“No, no,” Tony chuckles, “keep eating, please.”

Peter does, because survival outweighs embarrassment and you can never be one hundred percent sure of where your next hot meal is coming from. He mops the plate clean with extra helpings of hash browns, all the while surreptitiously casting his gaze around Stark’s apartment.

It’s nicer than Osbourne’s by a straight up mile. Easily the tallest building in New York, it looks down over the city and sparkles with light as it catches on the surfaces. There’s inbuilt tech everywhere, and it looks so advanced that Peter can’t help but puff out his chest a little at the fact that he hacked it.

Sure, his code wasn’t perfect, or he wouldn’t have been traced. But still. He hacked it!

He finishes his orange juice and smacks his lips together gracelessly, trying to ignore the lingering heat of Tony’s gaze, as he wipes his hand on his jeans. His whole outfit had been provided by Mr Stark, and Peter had hesitantly accepted because being in just his underwear had really imbalanced the playing field.

“So,” Tony murmurs, resting against the counter, arms crossed and looking very at-ease. “A good nights sleep, a nice hot meal, clean clothes. Things sure do look different the morning after the storm, don’t they, kid?”

Peter frowns. “Was last night supposed to be the storm? Because you don’t have anything on me-“

“Hey, hey,” Tony shoots him a look, “C’mon. I know you said you wouldn’t rat, but all you have to do is give me a name. Someone paid you to hack me, didn’t they? You tell me who that is, and you’re off scot-free.”

“I’m already free,” Peter insists, “you haven’t got any proof that I’m ‘The Spider’, okay?”

Tony’s eyebrows knit together and he purses his lips in mild irritation. Peter wonders how far confidence-intimidation tactics have gotten him so far. “Your apartment was crammed full of computers-“

“I like to game.”

“MIT said they only had one student capable of coding like that, and he dropped out two years ago and-“

“That’s what you’re going to use in a court of law?” Peter scoffs, ignoring the sting of hurt at the mention of MIT. He’d loved that school so much- “Wow. I may not have a law degree, but I can promise that’s going to raise some reasonable doubt-“

“Cut the crap, Parker.” Tony snaps, voice thick with irritation. “I know it was you-“

“Billionaire, tech-giant, philanthropist, and omniscient. Quite the résumé, Mr Stark.”

“Little shit-“

“I’m gonna head home, then,” Peter beams, slipping off the stool and heading for the door. “This was really fun, though-“

The doors slide open before he can walk out, and it’s the man who was driving the taxi from last night. Mr Strange. “Peter,” he grins, looking ridiculously put together for so early in the morning. “Are you leaving already?” Strange turns to sigh at Tony. “You’ve already upset him? I thought I told you to play nice.”

“I was playing nice.” Tony huffs, “he’s a little shit.”

“Goodbye, Mr Kidnapper,” Peter waves cheerily, hopping into the elevator, only for Strange to place his hand firmly against the door to stop it from closing.

“Peter,” he murmurs, voice low and pleading, “I seem to remember you saying you were amiable to a trade.”

Tony nods eagerly. “Yeah. You’re saying you won’t give me the name, but you haven’t even seen what I could offer.”

Peter wavers. The smart thing would be to go home, but home to what? All his tech is destroyed and he’ll have to tell Norman and then Norman will know that Tony knows and Peter could be out of a job and-

He sighs, rubbing his hand over his face and gesturing for them to lead the way.

____

The look on Peter’s face at the sight of the newly-installed computer lab is enough to make Tony’s dick throb with arousal.

His eyes go obscenely wide, and they flicker over every monitor and wire, and his feet seem to carry him without consent over to processors and ergonomic keyboards. He looks like a kid in a candy shop. It’s the same look Tony gets when his lab’s been re-stocked and he’s itching to try to make something new.

Goddamn. It’s just another quality to add to the list of Peter Parker traits that Tony has found to be completely addictive.

The boy’s young. 22 and almost completely off the grid. He’s got no family, no on-the-grid friends, but ‘The Spider’ is infamous, and Tony can’t believe that it’s a pale, bambi-eyed boy from Queens.

“This set up is so much nicer than-“ he cuts himself off, and Tony looks up with a grin.

“Nicer than..?”

Peter glares at him, but the heat of his stare doesn’t last, because he catches sight of some fancy retina display and is immediately distracted.

His youth is his weak spot.

He’s good, really good, and clearly talented, but he doesn’t have the wisdom that only age will bring.

Because he’s just left his backpack in the guest bedroom, and Strange is looking through it right now. There has to be something incriminating in it. It’s the one thing Peter had taken with him when he’d run, his go bag, there has to be.

Tony doesn’t want to blackmail him. He’d much rather have a nice fair trade, because he’s unreasonably attracted to the spunky little kid, but still. A little insurance is always nice.

“If you gave me the name,” Tony croons, not wanting to startle Peter out of his appreciation, “you could work for me. Someone of your skill-set, nice high pay, regular hours, this would be your base of operations. Anything you needed…”

Peter narrows his eyes. “Would there be a contract?”

Tony smiles, pleased. “Yeah, all legal. No unlawful termination. How long’s it been since you’ve had a steady income? A job you could be proud of?”

There’s wavering in Peter’s eyes, and Tony thinks he might actually have him and the blackmail isn’t needed- when Strange walks in, clearing his throat and gesturing to Tony with a subtle nod of his head.

Tony heads over to him, and Strange bows his head and drops something into Tony’s hand.

“There was nothing in his bag but clothes and a passport. A real passport,” Strange whispers, and Tony grits his teeth a little, but it’s not the end of the world. Parker may actually accept his deal- “But I did find this.”

Tony looks into his hand to find a gorgeous pearl necklace.

It’s antique and expensive and there is no way Peter acquired it legally. It’s gotta be his safety nest for if he’s on the run. A quick pawn and some money to get away. Someone is surely looking for this baby.

“Good,” Tony mutters, trying to keep his voice down, “but we may not need it-“

There’s a sharp, audible gasp, and both men look up to see Peter staring at one of the reflective monitors.

From the way it’s angled, he can see the pearls in Tony’s hands.

“Well, nice timing,” Tony snarls at Stephen, who has the sense to look a little bashful. “Listen, kid, we weren’t gonna-“

“You went through my stuff?” Peter demands, face lovely and flushed and furious. He holds his hand out. “Give it back.”

Tony holds onto the pearls because it looks like a fair deal’s off the cards now. He and Stephen are both in front of the door, but Peter doesn’t look boxed in. He looks angry. “Where’d you get these, Parker? I thought your skillset stopped at hacking, but do you have a knack for stealing too?”

“Those aren’t yours!” Peter cries, and lunges forward clumsily to try to grab them. He misses, and Tony tuts.

“Calm down. I want to give them back to you, but I have to know who hired you. Was it Carlton Drake? The Life Foundation? Was it fucking Wayne Enterprises? Oscorp? Lexcorp? Roxxon?”

Peter rolls his eyes. “This city has a few too many tech companies. And like I said already, no.”

Tony shrugs. “Then you don’t get this necklace back.”

Peter curls his dainty hands into fists, before fishing out his phone. “I don’t wanna have to do this,” he warns, as he lights up the screen with his thumb. Tony frowns as Peter waggles it. “One press of a button and all SI users information is leaked. That sort of personal data loss…” he shakes his head and whistles in mock-empathy. “That’d be awful. I can’t imagine the way stocks would plummet. Can you, Mr Stark? I seem to remember something similar happening to LoweTube. But then The Spider hacked it and now- it doesn’t exist, does it?”

“When the fuck did you hack my systems again?” Tony gapes, “we removed all trace of your coding-“

“I was on your wifi last night in the guest room, old man,” Peter snorts, rolling his eyes. “Do you know how easy it was to get past your firewalls from inside your ip address? I mean, I was half asleep.”

His thumb hovers over the button and Tony tosses him the pearls.

Peter catches them with a gentleness that makes Tony think they’re more sentimental than monetary.

“Well,” Stephen croaks, face still wary as Peter holds the phone in his hand. “I’m hoping you can forgive us, Mr Parker. We’re still clearly underestimating you.”

Tony cottons on. “He’s right, Peter. I’m sorry. We’re- we’re useless when it comes to hacking defences. We need you on our side.”

Peter looks between them, jaw clenched but eyes softer now that he has his pearls back. “Your systems were pretty shit.”

Tony refuses to snark back a rebuttal, and instead nods. “My offer still stands.”

Peter is silent for a long time, before he speaks. “I’m not going to tell you who hired me to hack you, but I will toughen up your whole system to be pretty much impervious to attacks again. For a price, of course.”

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose, but he can already feel himself agreeing. This is the second best scenario. Obviously, with Peter strengthening his walls it means the kid’s going to be able to build himself a way in to hack Tony whenever he wants- but he can’t see another way. It just irks Tony that he can’t go after whoever it was. He has a niggling feeling it might be Lex but he just can’t picture him actually having the balls. “I’m going to guess your price is fairly high?”

“Don’t worry, Mr Stark,” Peter grins, cocky and far too pretty for his own good, “I only want to be paid in stock.”

___

@darker-soft-starker for being the inspiration and @starkerchemistryy for being my friendship soulmate.

@stark-stark-baby @sbiderslut @lilsoshie @harmonystarker @lurafita @awesomeimportantfan @the-mad-starker @meymourwhysstarker

#starker #peter x tony #hacker peter #rich tony #age difference #college drop out peter #bamf peter #snarky peter #protective tony #snarky tony #peter is a little shit #and we all love it #part 2

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freckled-words · 5 years

Text

MLB Rant - “Ladybug” *SPOILERS*

If you have not seen the newest MLB episode “Ladybug” please be warned for spoilers below

Ya’ll

Did you hear me screaming when Marinette NEARLY got Akumatized? I say NEARLY, because she did not morph into whatever her dark persona would have been. (I will forever ignore the fact that Hawk Moth went with the name Fairy Princess, cause are you fucking kidding me?! SHE DESERVES BETTER THAN THAT!)

I WAS EXCITED TO SEE HER MOMMA GO BADASS! “QUEEN JUSTICE” FUCK. YES. GIVE ME A MOM READY TO BEAT DOWN LYLA’S ASS!

Please note: I HAVE SO MUCH RAGE FOR LYLA AND THE FACT THAT HER LIES ARE SO FUCKING OBVIOUS AND JUST STOP. MAKE HER GO AWAY. PLEAAAAASE!!!!!

Something that I’ve recently been playing over is that Chloe AND Sabrina, were not caught by the Akumas. Why?

The obvious answer: Chloe was rejoicing that Marinette got expelled and was doing rotten things. Sabrina would have been reflecting these emotions, cause, Sabrina.

The ALTERNATIVE answer: As much as Chloe is a selfish, desperate for positive attention brat. She knows what is good and what is wrong. She didn’t have faith in Marinette, so much as some part of her might be doubting Lyla. If you look at the scene, she’s not only DARING those akumas to touch her, but she is PROTECTING Sabrina at the same time. I really believe Chloe has made small bouts of growth (itty bitty, tiny growth)

**I’m aware there was an episode where Lyla was manipulating Chloe to aid Hawk Moth, but I haven’t seen it yet, so all my theories are going off this one episode**

NOW

LET US REVIEW

THE FIGHT SCENE

WHERE HAWK MOTH STEPS IN, AND OMG HE IS ACTUALLY TERRIFYING.

Yes, his abilities are limited to controlling others to aid him. BUT. HE. STILL. GETS. PHYSICAL. NEAR. INVULNERABILITY.

Like all Miraculous users, he’s getting those physical boosts. I mean. The man leaped onto and off a building.....So....Yea.

and then

THE DOUBLE YEET!

That both Marinette and Gabriel decided to go with “Fuck it. YEET THE HOSTAGE!” Is both hysterical, and telling of where they stand on the mental war ground.

With all the Lyla bullshitting, and Marinette still biting her thumb at the little b*tch, I’m just itching to a write a fic of what could happen if Lyla managed to figure out that Marinette is Ladybug. It would be epic...in my mind...I might just write a plot breakdown...just to keep for later.

#MLB #Miraculous Ladybug #ranting with spoilers #thoughts and theories

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thelastarchangelaskblog · 5 years

Text

Redemption Deleted Scene 3

Here we see some more changes that occurred in the process of writing! Yeah, Gadreel’s still not here. Also, this is where I was still figuring out if Gabriel/Tony and Steve would be a thing because at this point I was at Point M and hadn’t yet gotten through Point D (or something like that). There’s a lot going on in the middle that influenced how things played out!!

Comment? :P

Redemption Deleted Scene 1

Redemption Deleted Scene 2

Redemption Deleted Scene 4

Redemption Deleted Scene 5

(Read more for mobile users)

Steve and Jarvis were slower in following, but only by a second. They were on his heels as Gabriel exited his room and ran to the source.

No, no, no, no, no. Why was this happening?

They didn’t have wards against angels.

And even then it didn’t block angels from entering dreams, as Lucifer so clearly had here.

Oh, Sam…

Gabriel almost collided into Dean as he left his bedroom, gun in his hand. He didn’t give Dean a second glance, skirting around him and to Sam’s door, pushing it open with a force that almost tore it off its hinges.

“Cover your eyes!” Gabriel shouted, gesturing back at the others.

Lucifer’s light filled every inch of the bedroom, but it was collapsing inward to a familiar human shape.

Gabriel reached for a knife, cutting into his arm and painting the familiar banishing symbol on the wall, only this time he added a personal touch to it: Lucifer’s name.

He didn’t finish it, a small part of him telling him to wait even as the rest of him begged to leave.

When the light coalesced into the figure standing in the room, the body of Sam Winchester remained, although there was nothing human about the way the being currently inside was stretching the muscles.

Lucifer gave a stricken Gabriel a lazy smile. “Ah, Gabriel.”

And that was all she wrote. Gabriel slammed his hand down on the middle of the banishing symbol, Lucifer vanishing in a flare of Grace and an enraged cry.

Gabriel felt Raphael leave, but he paid more attention to the shell-shocked hunter standing behind him. “Dean—”

He was slammed into the wall a second later by an enraged Dean. “What the hell was that?” he demanded.

Gabriel grit his teeth. “That was Lucifer. Or did you miss what just happened?”

“How—”

“The Cage’s broken,” Castiel said, pulling Dean off Gabriel.

“You should’ve left me down there,” Gabriel said, though his Grace quailed at the thought.

“Don’t say that,” Steve snapped.

“If you think we would leave you down there—” Loki began angrily.

“That’s enough.” The words were sharp. “We don’t have time for this. We need to ward this place now. Because that banishing symbol’s good until the morning, but Lucifer will be able to waltz right in here then. And we might not be so lucky to get that painted in time.”

“If we ward against him, will it not affect you?” Jarvis asked, frowning.

“Use his name.” Gabriel shot Castiel a look. “You know what I mean, Castiel. Show the others how it’s done.”

Steve grabbed Gabriel’s arm before he could leave. “And where are you going?”

Gabriel shot him a weary smile that he hoped wasn’t tinged with the terror he felt. “I’m going to distract him – give you guys more time to finish it up.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“I don’t plan on it—”

“You didn’t tell us the last time. Don’t go sacrificing yourself again. Please.”

“Steve.” Gabriel caught his face in his hands, ignoring the way the others were rushing around the bunker under Castiel’s harried guidance. “It’ll be all right. It’ll be fine.”

“You said that last time,” Steve said quietly, one hand coming up to Gabriel’s right and curling around it.

“I mean it this time,” Gabriel said. “I’ve got a plan. A better one this time. You’ll see me again, okay?”

Steve’s eyes were pained. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Do that.” Gabriel pulled him down to plant a light kiss on his forehead before letting go and heading to the exit.

He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to see Lucifer again. He’d hoped he wouldn’t have to – not again. But luck wasn’t on his side, and he couldn’t stop himself from shivering in fear.

His heart pounded against his ribs as he stepped out of the bunker into the cool night. Small shivers ran down his back, and he pressed his lips together as he walked forward.

His eyes dropped to the still form at Lucifer’s feet, and Gabriel bit back curses.

Raphael… He should have known what she would try to do. But it was too late now; the bloody mess on her back was proof enough along with the absence of her soul.

Gabriel met Lucifer’s eyes, fear skittering through him as he saw Lucifer’s Grace hiding behind Sam Winchester’s eyes. “Lucifer.” He was proud that his voice didn’t reveal his fear.

Lucifer’s smile was easy. “Gabriel. Decided to meet me?”

“Oh, yeah.” Gabriel’s fingers curled and uncurled nervously. “You know how it is. Long lost family member drops in for a visit. I just need to catch up with them.” His smile was tinged with anxiety.

Lucifer’s smile turned into a smirk. “Admirable.”

“Yeah.” Gabriel didn’t move any closer, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Lucifer was well aware of his terror; there wasn’t much Gabriel could do to hide it at this point.

He just needed to distract Lucifer long enough for them to get the wards up. And to do that he would need to talk.

“So.” Gabriel wet his lips, fingers itching for his sword. But he didn’t draw it. Not yet. “We haven’t really talked.”

Lucifer’s brow scrunched slightly in confusion.

“I mean, you talked at me, but I didn’t really get the chance to talk back.”

“Did you have anything to say?” Lucifer asked.

Gabriel pulled out a grin that was all teeth. “Oh yeah. Loads. For starters, I’ve got a message.”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, and he took a menacing step forward.

Gabriel flinched back before he could stop himself, hands flying up defensively. “Easy now!” He kept the fright out of his voice by sheer willpower. “I think you’ll want to hear this.”

“What makes you think I have any interest in listening to what He has to say?” Lucifer snapped, shoulders heaving.

“Because He’s sorry,” Gabriel said, both hands still up. “He made a mistake.”

Whatever he’d thought, Lucifer clearly hadn’t expected that. “What?”

“Dad made a mistake,” Gabriel repeated, tension vibrating through him. He shifted nervously, taking a small, fortifying breath. “When you rebelled, Lucifer, He made a mistake. And He’s sorry.”

Lucifer’s jaw worked. “That’s all? He’s sorry?” He dropped his chin, eyes fixed on Gabriel as he took two more steps forward.

“That’s not it!” Gabriel flinched again but stopped himself from taking another step back. He braced his shoulders, swallowing. “That’s not everything,” he continued in a calmer voice. He swallowed again, setting his feet firmly on the ground. Don’t move again. Don’t give any more ground than you already have.

Lucifer stopped moving, tilting his chin up in a manner that told Gabriel he had better start talking.

“He says you can go back,” Gabriel said. “Back to Heaven. It’s open for you.”

“Just me?”

“Everyone who followed you,” Gabriel said. “He’s sorry.”

Lucifer grinned shortly before breaking into dark chuckles. “What is this? A compensation package?”

“An apology.”

“Then why doesn’t He tell me this Himself instead than having you do His dirty work?”

Gabriel offered a broken grin. “He didn’t exactly stick around to let me ask.”

“Naturally.” The word was filled with venom. “Was that it?”

“Just stop, Lucifer,” Gabriel said, rather than blurt out everything their Father had said to Azazel. “Please.”

“Why should I?” Lucifer hissed angrily, nostrils flaring. “Don’t I have a right to be angry? He cast me down, Gabriel. He cast me down for an eternity and then turns around and expects me to forgive Him just like that?”

Gabriel restrained a terrified shiver, feeling his human soul quake where he had it bundled up inside his Grace. “It needs to start someplace. It doesn’t have to be this way, Lucifer. You…you were my big sibling.” He let out a breathless laugh. “You taught me everything I know. You think you were the only one hurt by what you pulled back then? Heaven wasn’t the same after you were gone. Why the hell do you think I left?”

“Because you were bored?” Lucifer grinned, quicksilver-like before it washed off his face, replaced by steely hardness. “I hope Michael hurt. But he didn’t stop, even though I asked him to. I did. But he didn’t want to. Too fixated on his destiny.” He spat the word out like it was poison.

“And what about you?” Gabriel nearly bit his tongue when Lucifer’s eyes snapped to his, sharp and deadly. But he couldn’t stop. “What have you been doing? You’ve been following the same script, Lucifer. Break the seals, leave the Cage, and start the apocalypse. Exactly word-for-word to what was laid down on paper. You can’t derail a prophecy without going off-script. And it only needs one person.”

“It was prophesied that Heaven would win, and that you would have your paradise,” Lucifer said, the words almost sibilant as they rolled off his tongue. “What greater victory would there be but for me to win? There would be no new beginnings; just an end.”

Gabriel worked his jaw. “And you want that? You want an end to everything?”

Lucifer smiled, slow and sweet, eyes crinkling in a way that only Sam could pull off and looked wrong with Lucifer staring out behind that face. “It would be a start,” he said gently, and then there was a sharp, stabbing pain in Gabriel’s chest.

#deleted scene #my writing #The Last Archangel 2 #the last archangel redemption

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isitkpop · 6 years

Text

Unexplainable Emotion Game

So, I felt like creating a new kind of game that would spark up my K-Pop writing spirit. ~ Admin Chas

So, the way how this will go is almost the same as my other games. Pick an emotions and let me know what member OR ship you would like for me to write!

I do have limitations for groups that I will do For this game specifically. THis is because some of the groups that I have on my Masterlist, are groups that I still don’t fully know. So, I’m putting a group limit on here. Please choose a member OR ship from the groups below (the emotion list will be below also.)

It’s under the cut since it’s lonnnnnggg

Groups:

A.C.E

BlackPink

BTS

Day6

EXO

GOT7

Infinite

Seventeen

Emotions! (W/Definitions. There’s 40 to choose from xD)

Onism - n. the awareness of how little of the world you’ll experience. Imagine standing in front of the departures screen at an airport, flickering over with strange place names like other people’s passwords, each representing one more thing you’ll never get to see before you die—and all because, as the arrow on the map helpfully points out, you are here.

Mal de Coucou - n. a phenomenon in which you have an active social life but very few close friends—people who you can trust, who you can be yourself with, who can help flush out the weird psychological toxins that tend to accumulate over time—which is a form of acute social malnutrition in which even if you devour an entire buffet of chitchat, you’ll still feel pangs of hunger.

Sonder - n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.

Hanker Sore - adj. finding a person so attractive it actually kinda pisses you off.

Chrysalism - n. the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm, listening to waves of rain pattering against the roof like an argument upstairs, whose muffled words are unintelligible but whose crackling release of built-up tension you understand perfectly.

Altschmerz - n. weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had—the same boring flaws and anxieties you’ve been gnawing on for years, which leaves them soggy and tasteless and inert, with nothing interesting left to think about, nothing left to do but spit them out and wander off to the backyard, ready to dig up some fresher pain you might have buried long ago.

Occhiolism - n. the awareness of the smallness of your perspective, by which you couldn’t possibly draw any meaningful conclusions at all, about the world or the past or the complexities of culture, because although your life is an epic and unrepeatable anecdote, it still only has a sample size of one, and may end up being the control for a much wilder experiment happening in the next room.

Ambedo - n. a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—briefly soaking in the experience of being alive, an act that is done purely for its own sake.

Nodus Tollens - n. the realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore—that although you thought you were following the arc of the story, you keep finding yourself immersed in passages you don’t understand, that don’t even seem to belong in the same genre—which requires you to go back and reread the chapters you had originally skimmed to get to the good parts, only to learn that all along you were supposed to choose your own adventure.

Liberosis - n. the desire to care less about things—to loosen your grip on your life, to stop glancing behind you every few steps, afraid that someone will snatch it from you before you reach the end zone—rather to hold your life loosely and playfully, like a volleyball, keeping it in the air, with only quick fleeting interventions, bouncing freely in the hands of trusted friends, always in play.

Vemödalen - n. the frustration of photographing something amazing when thousands of identical photos already exist—the same sunset, the same waterfall, the same curve of a hip, the same closeup of an eye—which can turn a unique subject into something hollow and pulpy and cheap, like a mass-produced piece of furniture you happen to have assembled yourself.

Kairosclerosis - n. the moment you realize that you’re currently happy—consciously trying to savor the feeling—which prompts your intellect to identify it, pick it apart and put it in context, where it will slowly dissolve until it’s little more than an aftertaste.

Vellichor - n. the strange wistfulness of used bookstores, which are somehow infused with the passage of time—filled with thousands of old books you’ll never have time to read, each of which is itself locked in its own era, bound and dated and papered over like an old room the author abandoned years ago, a hidden annex littered with thoughts left just as they were on the day they were captured.

Rückkehrunruhe - n. the feeling of returning home after an immersive trip only to find it fading rapidly from your awareness—to the extent you have to keep reminding yourself that it happened at all, even though it felt so vivid just days ago—which makes you wish you could smoothly cross-dissolve back into everyday life, or just hold the shutter open indefinitely and let one scene become superimposed on the next, so all your days would run together and you’d never have to call cut.

Nighthawk - n. a recurring thought that only seems to strike you late at night—an overdue task, a nagging guilt, a looming and shapeless future—that circles high overhead during the day, that pecks at the back of your mind while you try to sleep, that you can successfully ignore for weeks, only to feel its presence hovering outside the window, waiting for you to finish your coffee, passing the time by quietly building a nest.

Dead Reckoning - n. to find yourself bothered by someone’s death more than you would have expected, as if you assumed they would always be part of the landscape, like a lighthouse you could pass by for years until the night it suddenly goes dark, leaving you with one less landmark to navigate by—still able to find your bearings, but feeling all that much more adrift.

Pâro - n. the feeling that no matter what you do is always somehow wrong—that any attempt to make your way comfortably through the world will only end up crossing some invisible taboo—as if there’s some obvious way forward that everybody else can see but you, each of them leaning back in their chair and calling out helpfully, colder, colder, colder.

Midsummer - n. a feast celebrated on the day of your 26th birthday, which marks the point at which your youth finally expires as a valid excuse—when you must begin harvesting your crops, even if they’ve barely taken root—and the point at which the days will begin to feel shorter as they pass, until even the pollen in the air reminds you of the coming snow.

Adronitis - n. frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone—spending the first few weeks chatting in their psychological entryway, with each subsequent conversation like entering a different anteroom, each a little closer to the center of the house—wishing instead that you could start there and work your way out, exchanging your deepest secrets first, before easing into casualness, until you’ve built up enough mystery over the years to ask them where they’re from, and what they do for a living.

Rigor Samsa - n. a kind of psychological exoskeleton that can protect you from pain and contain your anxieties, but always ends up cracking under pressure or hollowed out by time—and will keep growing back again and again, until you develop a more sophisticated emotional structure, held up by a strong and flexible spine, built less like a fortress than a cluster of tree houses.

Silience - n. the kind of unnoticed excellence that carries on around you every day, unremarkably—the hidden talents of friends and coworkers, the fleeting solos of subway buskers, the slapdash eloquence of anonymous users, the unseen portfolios of aspiring artists—which would be renowned as masterpieces if only they’d been appraised by the cartel of popular taste, who assume that brilliance is a rare and precious quality, accidentally overlooking buried jewels that may not be flawless but are still somehow perfect.

Fitzcarraldo - n. an image that somehow becomes lodged deep in your brain—maybe washed there by a dream, or smuggled inside a book, or planted during a casual conversation—which then grows into a wild and impractical vision that keeps scrambling back and forth in your head like a dog stuck in a car that’s about to arrive home, just itching for a chance to leap headlong into reality.

Keyframe - n. a moment that seemed innocuous at the time but ended up marking a diversion into a strange new era of your life—set in motion not by a series of jolting epiphanies but by tiny imperceptible differences between one ordinary day and the next, until entire years of your memory can be compressed into a handful of indelible images—which prevents you from rewinding the past, but allows you to move forward without endless buffering.

Gnossienne - n. a moment of awareness that someone you’ve known for years still has a private and mysterious inner life, and somewhere in the hallways of their personality is a door locked from the inside, a stairway leading to a wing of the house that you’ve never fully explored—an unfinished attic that will remain maddeningly unknowable to you, because ultimately neither of you has a map, or a master key, or any way of knowing exactly where you stand.

Anecdoche - n. a conversation in which everyone is talking but nobody is listening, simply overlaying disconnected words like a game of Scrabble, with each player borrowing bits of other anecdotes as a way to increase their own score, until we all run out of things to say.

Catoptric Tristesse - n. the sadness that you’ll never really know what other people think of you, whether good, bad or if at all—that although we reflect on each other with the sharpness of a mirror, the true picture of how we’re coming off somehow reaches us softened and distorted, as if each mirror was preoccupied with twisting around, desperately trying to look itself in the eye.

Anemoia - n. nostalgia for a time you’ve never known. Imagine stepping through the frame into a sepia-tinted haze, where you could sit on the side of the road and watch the locals passing by. Who lived and died before any of us arrived here, who sleep in some of the same houses we do, who look up at the same moon, who breathe the same air, feel the same blood in their veins—and live in a completely different world.

Mimeomia - n. the frustration of knowing how easily you fit into a stereotype, even if you never intended to, even if it’s unfair, even if everyone else feels the same way—each of us trick-or-treating for money and respect and attention, wearing a safe and predictable costume because we’re tired of answering the question, “What are you supposed to be?”

Monachopsis - n. the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place, as maladapted to your surroundings as a seal on a beach—lumbering, clumsy, easily distracted, huddled in the company of other misfits, unable to recognize the ambient roar of your intended habitat, in which you’d be fluidly, brilliantly, effortlessly at home.

Semaphorism - n. a conversational hint that you have something personal to say on the subject but don’t go any further—an emphatic nod, a half-told anecdote, an enigmatic ‘I know the feeling’—which you place into conversations like those little flags that warn diggers of something buried underground: maybe a cable that secretly powers your house, maybe a fiberoptic link to some foreign country.

Énouement - n. the bittersweetness of having arrived here in the future, where you can finally get the answers to how things turn out in the real world—who your baby sister would become, what your friends would end up doing, where your choices would lead you, exactly when you’d lose the people you took for granted—which is priceless intel that you instinctively want to share with anybody who hadn’t already made the journey, as if there was some part of you who had volunteered to stay behind, who was still stationed at a forgotten outpost somewhere in the past, still eagerly awaiting news from the front.

Daguerreologue - n. an imaginary interview with an old photo of yourself, an enigmatic figure who still lives in the grainy and color-warped house you grew up in, who may well spend a lot of their day wondering where you are and what you’re doing now, like an old grandma whose kids live far away and don’t call much anymore.

Fata Organa - n. a flash of real emotion glimpsed in someone sitting across the room, idly locked in the middle of some group conversation, their eyes glinting with vulnerability or quiet anticipation or cosmic boredom—as if you could see backstage through a gap in the curtains, watching stagehands holding their ropes at the ready, actors in costume mouthing their lines, fragments of bizarre sets waiting for some other production.

Avenoir - n. the desire that memory could flow backward. We take it for granted that life moves forward. But you move as a rower moves, facing backwards: you can see where you’ve been, but not where you’re going. And your boat is steered by a younger version of you. It’s hard not to wonder what life would be like facing the other way…

Kenopsia - n. the eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that’s usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet—a school hallway in the evening, an unlit office on a weekend, vacant fairgrounds—an emotional afterimage that makes it seem not just empty but hyper-empty, with a total population in the negative, who are so conspicuously absent they glow like neon signs.

The Tilt Shift - n. a phenomenon in which your lived experience seems oddly inconsequential once you put it down on paper, which turns an epic tragicomedy into a sequence of figures on a model train set, assembled in their tiny classrooms and workplaces, wandering along their own cautious and well-trodden paths—peaceable, generic and out of focus.

Jouska - n. a hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head—a crisp analysis, a cathartic dialogue, a devastating comeback—which serves as a kind of psychological batting cage where you can connect more deeply with people than in the small ball of everyday life, which is a frustratingly cautious game of change-up pitches, sacrifice bunts, and intentional walks.

Ecstatic Shock - n. the surge of energy upon catching a glance from someone you like—a thrill that starts in your stomach, arcs up through your lungs and flashes into a spontaneous smile—which scrambles your ungrounded circuits and tempts you to chase that feeling with a kite and a key.

Heartworm - n. a relationship or friendship that you can’t get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smoldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire.

Xeno - n. the smallest measurable unit of human connection, typically exchanged between passing strangers—a flirtatious glance, a sympathetic nod, a shared laugh about some odd coincidence—moments that are fleeting and random but still contain powerful emotional nutrients that can alleviate the symptoms of feeling alone.

#kpop #ace #bts #blackpink #day6 #exo #got7 #infinite #seventeen #ask game #drabble game #emotion game

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anorptron · 7 years

Text

The Down Fall of Good Men

Beck felt Tron's hand land on his chest, stopping him from falling on his face. Users. He did not want to be here again, especially not with Tron here.

Tron's low growl cut off his thoughts. “Touch him again and I'll derez you all.”

He heard the guard snort. Idiot, he thought. Only fools ignore a threat from Tron of all programs. But then again they didn't know that it was Tron's, if they did they'd be in a very different situation.

“Good luck with that, program.”

He felt Tron take a step forward, but the door rezzed before he could do anything. His mentor's sharp gaze immediately snapped to him. “You okay?”

“I'm fine,” He shrugged off Tron's concern, “They only shoved me.”

Tron gave a sharp nod of acknowledgment and began to search the small room they were in.

Beck sighed and sat down on the floor, leaving the bench for Tron. “There's no way out.” Users, he hated this place. The mechanic thought closing his eyes. He remembered Cutler sitting beside him, telling him the hope that he brought to him and others. Rilo in the cell next to theirs with programs he had never gotten the chance to know. They had still been in the beta stages of life. Derezzed for sport. His stomach clenched at the thought, it made him nauseous to think they had never gotten the chance to enjoy life. Because of him and his bold ideas of freedom.

“Stop, Beck.” He heard Tron say beside him. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Beck raised his head to raise a questioning brow in his direction.

Tron shrugged, “You told me once that this is when you comfort a friend.”

He let his head fall back onto the floor. He hadn't thought Tron had actually listened to him. “Do you mean it?” He asked after a beat of silence.

“Yes.”

The tension in his shoulders lessened. He didn't know why, but Tron telling him everything was going to be okay, made him feel better. If Tron thought it was going to be okay, then it had to be.

He heard Tron sigh, “Get off the floor Beck.”

Beck didn't look at Tron, “It's fine, Tron. You need it more than me.”

“Ow!” Beck exclaimed, his head shooting forward when something hit his head. “That hurt!”

“Then stop suggesting that I'm old!”

Beck grinned, “I'm not suggesting it.” He laughed, “You're old!”

Tron inwardly smiled, he successfully got Beck to stop brooding. “Keep it up and you'll be too scared to sleep.”

The mechanic rolled his eyes and let his head fall back while Tron sat on the bench behind him.

“Go to sleep, Beck.” Tron said quietly, “I'll wake you if anything happens.”

Beck appeared to do as Tron said, his body was lax as his head laid beside Tron, but his eyes popped open and his body tensed as he looked at the timer outside of their cell.

Tron rose to his feet. “What?” Body tense as he looked around for the threat.

Beck forced himself to relax. If Tron knew what happened, he'd go berserk and damn them all. “Nothing.” He lied, a reassuring smile on his face, “I just remembered that Mara’s going to be pissed at me.”

Tron's eyes narrowed, “Do not lie to me, Beck.”

Users, he felt as sick as a virus at having to lie to Tron. “Trust me.”

He watched Tron stiffen in the corner of his eye. It was his turn to reassure Tron, “You're going to get out of here, Tron.”

He didn't know why Tron stiffened more, he meant what he said. He was going to get Tron out.

Beck stood as the clock struck the new micro. Tesler would be here in mere nanos, prepared to take away the unlucky program deeper into the ship. To have unknown things done to them. Most didn't survive the first round.

Tron winced as the grid screamed to him, Run! Protect the young one! Monster!

Tesler.

Tron yanked Beck behind him. He was not going to let them touch Beck.

“Stop.” Beck’s breath was warm on his ear, “It's okay, Tron.”

Liar!

Suddenly the walls in front of them disappeared, but no program moved to step out. In fact, they seemed terrified to move.

“Programs!” A voice that was the unmistakable voice of Pavel rang throughout the speakers, “Who would like to volunteer today?”

Tron tensed and his fingers itched to draw his disc, as he watched programs back away from the door.

Behind you!

Tron began to turn but was pushed further into the cell. He was confused until he saw the cell door rezz shut. And Beck was on the other side.

“I volunteer!” Beck's voice rang throughout the cells, no one ever volunteered. They all knew it was a one-way trip.

No.

Tron's shaking fist slammed on the light wall. “Stop!” His voice had begun strong as if he was giving a command, but by the end, it had turned into a shameless plea as he begged like his life was ending. “Stop! Stop. Please, Beck, stop.” Tron gasped for air, not caring that his voice was cracking or that he was crying. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Beck was sacrificing himself and there was nothing that he could do.

Beck struggled to breathe as Tron begged for him to stop. Every word was like a punch to the gut. Tron wasn’t ever supposed to sound so scared. Tron wasn’t ever supposed to beg. He didn’t even beg when he was being tortured. But he was begging now. Like he was in the worst pain he could ever experience. Like his world had come crashing down and he couldn’t do anything to fix it.

With clenched eyes and sweaty hands, he forced himself to not look back. It was too risky, he might lose his nerve and try to stay. And that would put Tron at risk. He couldn’t lose his resolve. It would cost Tron his life, and that was not an option.

“I’m sorry.” With a heavy core that rivaled his mounting fear, he stood tall and allowed the guards to cuff him and force him to his knees. He could hear Tron’s roar of rage as the guards dragged him out of the cell room. Finally, once he was almost at the door did he look back, his gaze latched onto the last time he’d see his mentor.

Tron collapsed to his knees the moment the doors slid shut behind Beck. Why would he do this?

Tron turned as a voice spoke to him. “I'm sorry for your loss.”

Users please no.

The old program dropped onto the bench. It was too much. The grid screaming at him, Beck sacrificing himself, his grief was too much.

Tron sat there as if he was frozen, his eyes never straying from a spot on the floor.

Trust me.

You're going to get out of here, Tron.

Tron.

“Tron.” He blinked as a hand shook him.

Beck.

He pulled the younger program into a tight embrace, this idiot boy. The embrace didn't last long as Beck hissed in pain and wiggled out of the hold.

“What did they do to you?” Tron's voice was dangerously low, like thunder after lightning struck.

Beck ran his hand through his hair and tilted his head and allowed Tron to fully see his body.

His face was almost completely purple. His right wrist was bent at an unnatural angle and he kept the other arm wrapped around his stomach. He had open wounds on his knuckles, chest, and legs.

“They beat you.” He stated numbly, beginning to pace. “They beat you.”

Beck grimaced and shook his head. “They ‘tested’ on me.”

Tron froze. “...They did what..to you?”

Beck winced at the pure astoundment and unaltered rage in Tron's tone. “They wanted to see how long a healthy program could last against outside pressures. This time it was other programs. Next time-”

“There will be no next time!” Tron snapped. “They aren’t ever going to touch you again!”

Beck winced as he shrugged, “So long as I go, they don’t send you to the games, and you aren’t tested on. So, yeah, I’ll go next time. And maybe you can get out when they open the cells.”

“And leave you?”

The younger program looked away and that’s answer enough.

Tron reached out, careful to avoid Beck’s injuries, and placed a hand on Beck’s arm. “I’m not going to leave you here. Do you understand? Either we get out together, or we don’t get out at all.”

Beck peered up at him, “When did you get all sentimental?”

“Sometime after I met you,” Tron replied, guiding Beck to the bench. “You’ve got that effect on programs.”

He snorted in response before he groaned.

Tron instantly, gently helped him lay back onto the bench. “Why in Flynn’s name did you do this?”

Another groan escaped Beck, “I already told you. To protect you.”

“I’m supposed to protect you, not the other way around,” Tron told him, hands carefully inspecting the bent wrist.

The mechanic whimpered when Tron touched his stomach, “I'm not sorry.” He said softly, weakly batting Tron's hands away.

“Stop.” The monitor responded concern flickered in his eyes. “I need to see how badly you're hurt.” Beck grimaced but stopped fighting Tron.

To say Beck was in bad shape was like saying Clu likes perfection.

Tron had nothing to use to bandage his cuts or slow the bleeding he didn't have anything to check Beck for internal bleeding or a concussion. No ice pack to soothe Beck’s bruises. No chamber to heal his wrist.

He had nothing.

Tron looked up from his prodding when Beck took a chest rattling breath. He needed a healing chamber.

Beck’s eyes bleary looked up to him, “It hurts.”

“I know, I know.” Tron soothed, thumb rubbing the back of Beck’s neck. “Go to sleep. I’ll get us out of here.” He paused, “I promise.”

Beck nodded, and his hand loosely latched onto Tron’s wrist. “Wake me for the next round.”

Over my dead cubes. “Sleep, Beck.”

Tron looked up from where Beck was asleep in his lap to the countdown. It was almost time. And if Beck thought he was actually going to let him go in there again, he had another thing coming.

Carefully, he slipped out from underneath Beck and knelt down beside him. “I’ll come back. I promise.” He whispered, voice soft and warm. “Just stay alive. Please.”

Tron let his head rest against Beck's forehead. Frown deepening as he feels the heat radiating from it. “If you die-” Tron closed his eyes and took a breath, “-wait for me.”

Behind him, he hears the cell doors power off. It was time. “See you soon.” The monitor stood and walked out of the cell. Only once he was in the room where they beat Beck, did he allow his rage to consume him.

Beck blearily peered towards the door where his mentor was covered in red and orange cubes.

“They're dead.”

The younger program closed his eyes and nodded. “Can we go home now?”

Tron nodded back, as he bent down to pick Beck up. “Yeah, Beck, we can go home.”

Beck ducked his head underneath Tron's as his mentor picked him up. “...you lied to me.”

“Oh?”

“You were supposed to wake me for the next round.”

Tron readjusted his hold on Beck as the younger program curled up closer to his chest when the cold air hit them. “I never agreed to that. In fact, I recall telling you that they'd never touch you again.”

Beck shivered, eyes drooping, “I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“Lying to you. I knew you wouldn't have let me go if you had known. I'm sorry.”

“Just-” Tron sighed, “It was a noble thing to do, it's something I would have done. Just, please, don't do it again. I thought you were dead, Beck.”

Beck doesn't respond, there's not much he can say to that.

Tron awkwardly rezzed a jet before easing Beck into a seat and buckling him up. Right after, Tron sat down and begun the flight towards the hideout.

“Are they going to come for me?”

“No.” Tron told him, “I handled it.”

Beck doesn't question it. Instead, he relaxes as best he can without upsetting his wounds. A hiss escaped his lips when he moved the wrong way.

Tron glanced to him, “Lay on your back,” He instructed, “It'll take the pressure of most of your wounds.”

It was silent after Beck readjusted himself, save for his labored breaths. Until Tron spoke again. “Thank you, I didn't say it earlier, and I should have.”

“W’lcome,” Beck mumbles as he drifts into sleep mode.

Tron shook his head fondly, noble idiot. Before focusing on the clear sky around them.

#tron fanfic #tron #tron upising #my work #beck #Trons kicking ass and taking names

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castawxayaway · 7 years

Text

our unexpected life: p3

right, it is very long- and I mean it. but I can say wholeheartedly that I am proud of this little series so thank you for reading- and to the anon who requested in the first place.

enjoy!

(and I have got my last 2 days of writing sorted, thank you to those who requested and as I said I’ll be back in July)

p1/ p2

Sitting down in front of each other, a tea in grasp and blowing lightly against the ripples forming, observing the steam glide towards him and away from me. “There’s plenty of successful couples with big age gaps.” He insisted as he wore a heavy look of confusion between his brows.

Placing my mug down I keep my hands wrapped around it for warmth as I tuck my legs under each other behind the metallic chair. “Come on, like we are the first ones.” Sarcasm rolled off of my tongue, resulting in a small smile to form on his face momentarily before going back to a harsh look of concentration.

“Name a couple then.” He retorted and placed his hands around his mug, eyes locking with mine with such intent it was as if I were back in school being asked to answer the question in maths that no one knew.

Rubbing my lips together I bit my tongue as my mind scanned through every celebrity couple, playing an elimination game. Lingering on one I blurted it out, “Trump and his wife.”

His eyes dropped along with his shoulders, unable to hold back the disappointed sigh. “Not the best example.” I began to chuckle in response, only triggering him to join in.

As our laughter faded we went back to the quiet, it no longer being quite so comfortable knowing we had to talk about it sooner or later. This being the latter of the options having suppressed the urge to blurt it out or suggest it as we walk by the beach. “I’m going to go back home the day you go.” I want to mutter it, let it be spoken without the feeling of it hanging in the air heavy. Instead I speak loudly, making him finally here it.

“No no I get it, it’s your summer break and you have friends back home wondering about you.” He was mumbling, distracting himself, being uncomfortable and avoiding my gaze.

Leaning across the table I hold my hand out to which he picks it up, drawing invisible triangles into my palm. “It’s not just that Dan, I mean we’ve been together for a year now and this is your biggest part of tour.” The triangles stopped, instead he held it lifelessly. “You’ve got to prepare and all since you’re going in three days.” Sighing I struggle to hide the irritation that itches away at my thoughts, never ceasing as the day grows closer. “And I, I’m nervous.” I mutter the last half, unsure how else to possibly word it.

His grip tightens on mine, “Why’d you be nervous? It’s only four months.” I can’t help but let out a dry laugh to his response. Pulling my hand away from his with some force as he grasps onto my fingertips, not wanting to let go.

“Do you hear yourself?” I retort to him as his eyes remain blank, “Four months, that is almost half of my course in second year done.” Still, nothing besides him retracting his hands, cupping the mug tightly instead of my hands. “That is four months of me trying to not come across as needy, not wanting to seem desperate in wanting to hear from you.” Sighing I push my hair out of my face, taking a deep breath.

“And I’ll spend those four months trying to not coddle you from thousands of miles away.” His voice falters as he tries to maintain eye contact, struggling to evidently. “We did it before with two months, we can pull through.”

My eyes searched his for anything besides optimism as mine held reality, how the two of us would probably feel miserable one month in. We barely scraped out of the last leg of tour, only having dated for six months then. Smiling supportively I reach my hand out to intertwine with his and sip my tea, “We’ll be okay.” I mutter more for myself as opposed to him.

Waking up knowing what today would bring feels demotivating. It makes my chest heavy, as if I can’t move out of his arms and want to treasure every minute we have together as if it were our last. Turning around to face him I tried to take internal snapshots of his sleepy form, how his brows creased together leaving small lines like those on his suit shirt. The way he wore a small smile as I shuffled closer into him and subconsciously his grip tightened around me and rested his head in the crook of my neck, mumbling nonsense.

Smoothing his hair back I refused to let the tears fall, to allow the emotion to creep in. For the time being I have to be strong, defiant. I refuse to be weak, but deep down he knows I’m crumbling. Last time I saw him off for tour I was excited for him, enthusiastic to see his adventures when he got home but the second I saw him depart I broke down. I remember having him come up to me, tap my shoulder and hold me tightly in his arms, kissing me one last time and wiping my tears as his eyes watered.

It’s not easy, saying goodbye to those you love. Four months can seem like nothing or everything. Neither of us are sure which yet.

The two of us began to get ready in silence, neither of us able to commit to a conversation as all I could do was focus on the suitcases we had laid out before us. Going down the stairs I got a single message from Will, ‘how are you?’ a fair few responses came to mind as I looked at the message. Physically, able. Emotionally, struggling. Mentally, close to breaking.

‘I’ll be alright, always am.’ I typed back and placed my phone away as Dan came down the stairs, his eyes gloomy like the London weather outside despite the early hour it is. “Tea, coffee?” Breaking the silence it sounds too forced despite me standing by the kettle. He shrugs in response and sits down, looking at his phone with an unreadable expression, refusing to shift his focus away from the brightly lit screen. “Look Dan, how does this help either of us?” I clench my teeth, unable to hold it back.

The silent treatment on the day we both leave, I go back home, he goes around America. “What’d you mean?” He asked as his eyes remained on his phone.

“I mean, you sitting on your phone. Me trying to not get upset about someone I love so much ignoring me in the last hours we have together before you leave.” Sighing I turn my back to him, waiting for the kettle to boil.

The chair scrapes across the floor as I hear him huff, “Now who is acting like a child?” Quick to retort I turn around, glaring at him as my eyes blur with tears.

Blinking I shake my head to him, the anger melting from his eyes as he realises what he’s done. For months I put up with his friends teasing me, I dealt with the comments online, I tried my best to keep it lowkey at Uni but somehow I couldn’t. Someone called me naive, that I had no idea what I was doing. That was the start of it all, the turmoil that followed through. Whatever I did I was called names, a ‘sugar baby’ a ‘hoe’, ‘slut’, ‘user’, ‘bitch’, ‘desperate’, ‘fake’, ‘kiddy’, ‘pathetic’ and so many more worse names.

He knew how much hurt I went through, not that he didn’t get out of it with a clean slate but those fans adore him too much to hurt him, so they hurt me instead. Muttering my name as I ran past him up the stairs he held back, he knew his mistake. Picking my phone up I ring the first number I see on my phone, “I’ll be in touch soon, I’m sorry in advance.” I gush to him as he follows with various questions, completely caught off guard. “Just listen Will, I don’t think you’ll be seeing much of me anymore. But thank you, thank you for the friendship and constant kindness.”

Hanging up I grab ahold of my suitcase, passing the photos of the two of us and the others on nights out, on our trip to Rome that I always dreamt of. As I reach the top of the stairs he hovers at the bottom, eyes cast over and hiding the blue sky, the sunlight I could use. He notices the suitcase in my hand and sadly shakes his head. “Please don’t go, not like this.” He whimpers and sniffs loudly as I pass him.

Grabbing a hold of my arm and I turn to face him. His face is tinted pink at the cheeks but consumes his eyes, the once fluffy white clouds surrounding the stormy blue darkens, as if the rain is soon to come. “I can’t do this Dan,” Sighing I pull my arm away. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think we can make it through like last time.” Placing my cold hand against his warm cheek I catch a tear as it falls and feel it weave through my fingers.

Removing my hand before he had the opportunity to hold it one last time I pick my bags up, ignoring the rings of my phone and walk out of the door. Hearing it shut slowly and lock I can feel it rising in my chest, the pain, the regret and the instant heartache as tears fall silently, no sound to be heard.

Tapping my pen I rest against the fabric chair, staring at the title of my essay unsure how to begin. ‘How does Plato use the world of forms effectively to create an image for society and does this reflect in modern day?’ It was too wordy, bloody Plato and his world of forms. Sighing I put my pen down as I reach for my phone, a month of radio silence from him but a phone call every other day from Will. The day I left I phoned him on the train, the anger I’d never heard from the one with the soft voice. It took me a while to ease into conversation, then one night we FaceTimed. Immediately he pointed out how much of a mess I looked, in the background I could hear that laugh I subconsciously craved.

I regret shutting down after that, the look I gave Will of fear and ended our call. He tells me somedays how Dan seems brighter then other days all he wants is to talk to me but doesn’t know how. ‘Do you still have feelings for him?’ Something he tries to ask every week, some way to make me express the truth about it all. It is undeniable, I hear a split second of his voice on someones phone and dwell over it all day, the heartache that is etched into my soul that increases with each passing day.

‘Would you want to see him again?’ Today’s question, courtesy of Woody as opposed to Will. Pondering the thought I glance back to my essay and write the introduction then flick back to my phone.

Yes. No. I’m unsure. I hate him. I love him. My heart can’t take the toying. My mind can’t cope with the abuse. My self can’t deal without him.

Thinking through all of my options I pick my text books up and leave, wander towards the one place I can get clarity. As I see it in sight my heart twists, it feels as if my intestines have wrapped around my heart, squeezing at the nostalgia of distance flutters I had when I first met him. The smell of salt and dry seaweed, ‘fresh’ fish and chips, seagulls squawking at any who interrupt their required meals.

All followed by the memory of our conversation, of the first time he spoke to me. The awkward stranger and the comfortable girl. Who’d of expected it, who’d of thought I’d return over a year later alone; me. Sitting down I hold onto my phone as I glance down to Woody’s message, I can’t imagine a life when I don’t hear his laugh or see that smile aimed at me. The way he’d listen to my thoughts like no one else would. How we’d dance when he was jetlagged, the glint in his eyes when I laugh or play the keyboard.

‘I’m afraid.’ Sending it I know it’s true, the apprehension that lies deep inside of my thoughts about the rejection, being unwanted by the one I want more than anything else.

Closing my eyes I can almost feel him here now, sat next to me admiring my photography. The two of us walking along here, exchanging names and pleasantries like it was nothing. Neither of us knew we’d get this deep, we were naive in it all.

If I’d been warned falling in love was this dangerous would I have backed out? No. As if I stayed clear I wouldn’t have lived, the memories I’ve made and the things I never thought I’d experience have happened. Someone I didn’t expect to love has left a hole in my soul unable to be fixed nor filled with anything sufficient besides his love.

Opening my eyes I text Will, the first thing I can think of that’ll make any apparent sense. ‘I will always love Dan, and have done since our fourth date. He’ll know why.’ Smiling as I sent it I walked by the old coffee shop, even today I remember all of the orders and take a trip inside.

Ordering myself a tea I sit down near our spot, I can picture us there now. Date number four, though we never called them dates as we were too nervous to title it so soon with something so official, serious. We continued to discuss paintings, my little knowledge and his combined into something else. Our conversations only got deeper, until he told me about the one night where he just stared at the sky and felt something else. He convinced me he was sober but I thought otherwise as he wore that mischievous smile. The more he talked the more comfortable he became around me, all barriers were down and we were fully exposed. There was almost a vulnerability about it that I’d never witnessed but loved. His eyes lighting up as we drank tea and laughed.

That was when I knew I loved him, and wished for it to never end.

Leaving the nostalgia behind me I went home, back to my flat and noticed a newly framed photo, one I’d never noticed. Suspicious I called out, yet there was no response. Letting out a hesitant sigh of relief I wandered through to my room, dumping my stuff but heard my phone ring.

“Hey Will.” I place my phone on loud speaker as I tie my hair up, a wave of tiredness hitting me hard like the water does to the battered pier I love dearly. “I’m at my flat, why?”

“Just wondered, you available to talk for a bit- face to face?” He suggests and I agree as normal. “Just open up your door then.”

Pausing I stare straight at my door, imagining my dear friend on the other side I hadn’t seen in months able to talk to me without fear of judgement or barriers. For once I didn’t have to wipe tears away and he’d be unaware, I could face him and laugh like old times. “Are you at my door?” Mumbling I edge closer to it, wishing I had a peep hole.

“Open it and find out.” He chuckles in response.

Gripping onto the door handle I speak up loudly, knowing he’ll hear it on the other side through the thin panels of wood. “If this is how I die then I will not be happy.” Opening the door I stutter on my words, unable to speak nor close my mouth.

“Have fun.” Will cautions and hangs up, leaving me alone.

Leaning against the door frame I tuck my phone into my back pocket, feeling as if I’m back to square one. His eyes remain focused on his feet, the same black converse and denim jacket as always. “Hi.” He mutters to me and slowly lifts his head.

As his eyes lock with mine the tightness in my chest eases, the warmth that thawed out the pain inside increased as I felt myself smile slightly, slightly. Analysing the other details of his face I can’t help but sigh, the bags under his eyes have darkened, the stubble forming a ginger beard that I always liked. “Hi.”

It’s as if we are on our first ‘date’ again, neither of us knowing where to begin. “Can I come in?” He politely asks and I move aside, holding the door back as he walks in, hiding his hands. “Before I explain everything I wanted you to have this.” Placing a thick book down on my small coffee table it is a simple black book, stuffed full and neatly tied with a black ribbon. “Go on, please.” His eyes widened with hope so sitting down on the sofa I took the deceivingly heavy book and untied the ribbon.

My cheeks instantly heated and a smile unexpectedly formed. Flicking through each page I heard a chuckle escape my lips and glanced up to him, the similar look reflected that I wore. Each page of covered in candids of me, of us that I had never seen. Little slips of paper and tickets or leaflets included to remember the day for what it was. “When, when-”

“The day I left.” He knelt down in front of me, holding my hands in his. “I knew I’d made a mistake in letting you go. I, I was afraid of losing you.”

Staring at him intently everything returned, the laughter echoed through the rooms, our late nights captured in these photos. Everything that I’d forgotten represented in this, tied up nicely with a bow- maybe even too nicely. “I, I love you Dan but I’m scared of getting hurt again.” This time I didn’t avoid his gaze, I kept a clear focus on it.

“One more thing,” Reaching into his back pocket he pulled out a folded up photo, making me laugh lightly as I held onto it.

The first photo I ever took of him, well the blur that he was in the photo. Smiling at it I opened up the book, placing it on page one. “It belongs there, as that’s where it all starts right?” I raise an eyebrow and he nods, a sweet smile forming, the one unique to any I’d seen since I wandered the campus.

“They’ve known this whole time haven’t they?” Asking him he merely smiles, the glint in his eyes returning. “And yet here we are, oblivious to it all until it was too late.”

“Sometimes those who are meant to be can’t see it. It is so unexpected that it is too good to be true.” Standing up he lifts me with him, wrapping my arms around his neck I move closer to him, “But then there are those who get lucky.” Smiling down to me I lean in, and it was true.

We were the lucky ones after all.

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creativitytoexplore · 3 years

Photo

[SerSun] Serial Sunday: Ignorance! https://ift.tt/3z243lj

Welcome to Serial Sunday!

Please be sure to read the entire post before submitting!

To those brand new to the feature and those returning from last week, welcome! Do you have a self-established universe you’ve been writing or planning to write in? Do you have an idea for a world that’s been itching to get out? This is the perfect place to explore that. Each week, I will post a single theme to inspire you. You have 850 words to tell the story. Feel free to jump in at any time if you feel inspired. Writing for previous weeks’ themes is not necessary in order to join.

This week's theme is Ignorance!

I’m retiring the overarching monthly themes for now. We’re going to focus on ‘ignorance’ this week. Is there information your character(s) are missing? Are they blind to a particular truth? How does this guide their actions? What happens when people—or a world—live in ignorance? Are there repercussions?

These are just a few things to get you started. Remember, the theme should be present within the story in some way, but its interpretation is completely up to you.

IP / MP

Theme Schedule:

I recognize that writing a serial can take a bit of planning. Each week, I will be releasing the following 2 weeks’ themes here in the Schedule section of the post.

June 6 - Ignorance (this week)

June 13 - Deception

June 20 - Hypocrisy

How It Works:

In the comments below, submit a story that is between 500 - 850 words in your own original universe, inspired by this week’s theme. (Using the theme word is welcome but not necessary.) This can be the beginning of a brand new serial or an installment in your in-progress serial. You have until 6pm EST the following Saturday to submit your story. Please make sure to read all of the rules before posting!

The Rules:

All top-level comments must be a story. Use the stickied comment for off-topic discussion and questions you may have.

Do not pre-write your serial. You may do outlining and planning ahead of time, but you need to wait until the post is released to begin writing for the current week. Pre-written content or content written for another prompt/post is not allowed.

Stories must be 500-850 words. Use wordcounter.net to check your word count.

Stories must be posted by Saturday 6pm EST. That is one hour before the beginning of Campfire. Stories submitted after the deadline will not be eligible for rankings and will not be read during campfire.

Only one serial per author at a time. This does not include serials written outside of Serial Sunday.

Authors must leave at least 2 feedback comments on the thread (on 2 different stories) to quality for rankings every week. ** The comment **must include at least one detail about what the author has done well. Failing to meet the 2 comment requirement will disqualify you from weekly rankings. (Verbal feedback does not count towards this requirement.) Missing your feedback two consecutive weeks will exclude you from campfire readings and rankings. You have until the following Sunday at 12pm EST to fulfill your feedback requirements each week.

Keep the content “vaguely family friendly”. While content rules are more relaxed here at r/ShortStories, we’re going to roll with the loose guidelines for now. If you’re ever unsure if your story would cross the line, please modmail and ask!

Begin your post with the name of your serial between triangle brackets (e.g. <My Awesome Serial>). This will allow our serial bot to track your parts and add your serial to the full catalogue. Please note: You must use the same serial name for each installment of your serial. This includes commas and apostrophes. If not, the bot won’t recognize your serial installments.

Reminders:

Make sure your post on this thread also includes links to your previous installments, if you have a currently in-progress serial. Those links must be direct links to the previous installment on the preceding Serial Saturday/Sunday posts or to your own subreddit or profile. But an in-progress serial is not required to start. You may jump in at any time.

Saturdays I will be hosting a Serial Campfire on the discord main voice lounge. Join us to read your story aloud, hear other stories, and share your own thoughts on serial writing! We start at 7pm EST. You can even come to just listen, if that’s more your speed. Don’t worry about being late, just join!

You can nominate your favorite stories each week. Send me a message on discord or reddit and let me know by 12pm EST the following Sunday. You do not have to attend the campfire, or have read all of the stories, to make nominations. Making nominations awards both parties points (see breakdown at the bottom of this post).

Authors who successfully finish a serial with at least 8 installments will be featured with a modpost recognizing their completion and a flair banner on the subreddit. Authors are eligible for this highlight post only if they have followed the 2 feedback comments per thread rule (and all other post rules).

There’s a Serial Sunday role on the Discord server, so make sure you grab that so you’re notified of all Serial Sunday related news!

Last Week’s Rankings

First place - u/ReverendWrites

Second place - u/stickfist

Third place - u/GammaGames

Fourth place - u/Leebeewilly

Fifth place - u/ATIWTK

Honorable Mention - u/Xacktar

Honorable Mention - u/Sonic_Guy97

Ranking System

The weekly rankings work on a point-based system. Here’s the breakdown:

Nominations (votes sent in by users): - First place - 6 points - Second place - 5 points - Third place - 4 points - Fourth place - 3 points - Fifth place - 2 points - Sixth place - 1 point

Feedback: In order to be eligible for feedback points, you have to complete your 2 required feedback comments.

Written feedback (on the thread) - 1 point each, up to 3 points (5 crits total on the thread)

Verbal feedback (during Campfire) - 1 point each, up to 3 points.

Note: Completing the max for both is equivalent to a first place vote. Keep in mind that you should not be using the same feedback to receive both written and verbal feedback points on the same story. Your feedback should be actionable and list at least one thing the author has done well.

Nominations: Making nominations for your favorite stories will now earn you extra points! - 3 points for sending your favorite stories to me, via DM, by 12 pm Sunday, EST. You may send a max of six nominations. (The 3 points are the total.)

Subreddit News

We’ve recently updated our subreddit rules. Please take a moment to read the Revised Rules announcement or take a look at our sidebar.

You can now post serials to r/Shortstories, outside of Serial Sunday. Check out this lovely post to learn more!

Sharpen your micro-fic skills by participating in our brand new feature, Micro Monday

Have you ever wanted to write a story with another writer? Check out our brand new weekly feature Follow Me Friday on r/WritingPrompts.

Looking for critiques and feedback for your story? Check out our new sub r/WPCritique

Join our discord to chat with authors, prompters, and readers!

submitted by /u/OldBayJ [link] [comments]

#June 07 #2021 at 01:27AM

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