#I killed many hours and what little allowance I got on the one at our local theater. Never got gud but that never mattered much to me

[the-forgotten-jack]

Ignis Tempestas

*part 14 of ??*

*chapter 2*

*reminder: --- marks a change in perspective*

"APATHY!"

My voice echoed harshly through the hall as I screamed my brother's name. His footsteps followed shortly. I smirked as he came scrambling into my room.

"Yes, Empathy?" His voice was quiet and shook slightly.

"I'm going into town. Go tell father I'll be home before the eighth hour of light."

"Empathy-" He started to protest, but I held my hand up to stop him, my smirk turning to a malicious grin.

"Yes, dear brother?" He faltered when I spoke in that sickly sweet tone I used before forcing him to do the worst jobs around the palace.

He swallowed his words and nodded stiffly before walking away. I waited a little, then left my room as well, going down to the stables. I snapped at any servants as I passed them, taking pleasure in how they flinched away from me. One poor girl even fell over herself as she was carrying a bucket of water to the kitchens. I laughed as she picked herself up, soaked thoroughly.

When I got to the stables, I spoke to no one. I didn't need to. My shoes made a distinctive clicking sound, and my yelling had given me away. The stablehand already had my horse saddled and ready to ride. He offered to help me up, but I smacked his hand away from me.

I reached the market quickly and dismounted, beginning to wander the shops. I didn't need to tie up my horse or anything of the sort, no. I was Empathy Mae. You'd have to be a brainless fool to try stealing from me.

Nothing in particular caught my eye, but I liked sensing the nearly tangible fear when people saw me. They knew my reputation, and based only on my appearance, it could easily be proven.

I was wearing a cream colored dress with deep blue embroidery on the ends of the sleeves, which clung to my arms and flared at the wrists, and lace at the bottom. Under my dress, I wore simple leggings of the same colors, so I didn't expose anything while I was riding. My boots were a lighter blue, made of soft leather with a steel heel. I wore no jewelry, but I didn't need to.

Out of nowhere, there was an awful commotion, and a voice screamed for the guards. I rolled my eyes. It was probably just a robbery, I thought. There were lots of those. But then I saw the vulture standard, and for the first time in many years, fear struck me.

---

I raised my standard high, laughing as the other bandits spread out around me, wreaking total havoc.

"BRING ME THE BOY CALLED APATHY!"

My brethren responded to the command, surging forward in all directions to clear my path and assist in my search. I kept a facade of merely enjoying the raid, but deep inside me, I felt nauseous from excitement. I'd been meeting in secret with Apathy Minn for a few months now, and I'd fallen hard for him. A few days ago, I decided I'd take him as my own. His father and mother would never allow our relationship, so I told him I'd come up with something. This raid was that something.

Not too far from my own position, I heard a haughty voice speaking oddly calmly for their situation.

"What are you looking for my brother for? He's worthless, really."

I turned incredulously to face the speaker and broke into a grin. I raised my hand, pointing to the girl who'd insulted my beloved.

"Kill the girl first."

---

I paced nervously in my room as I waited for the inevitable knock at my window. A guard had just come running from the market with news of a bandit attack, and something in me knew it was Ven Skull, the bandit who'd been visiting me for the past few months.

To be honest, I was worried for him. He was already always in dangerous situations, but his love for me made him reckless. I was sure he was going to get too hurt to get me out of here, but I had to have faith in him. He was smart, even if he was reckless. I just had to be patient.

My father burst into my room, a wild look in his eyes.

"Where's your sister?"

#Ignis Tempestas

[inga-don-studio]

Hello old friend 🖤

#🎃 cryptid sighting #Adventures around Portland #Okay I’m (predictably) in love with Ground Kontrol #It wasn’t the vapor wave paradise arcade I kinda hoped it would be -definitely more of a utilitarian vibe #-but that wasn’t a detraction because it was still fabulous #SO MANY PINBALL MACHINES! #Tbh that was the main draw for me- I’m not very good but I love weird/gimmicky pinball and they had more than I’ve seen 1 place in eons #And THIS! This machine! The Bally Addams Family machine holds a special place in my heart as the one that got me into pinball as a kid #I killed many hours and what little allowance I got on the one at our local theater. Never got gud but that never mattered much to me #I spent some time on the video game cabinets too but they were more in demand & I didn’t want to get in anyone’s way #So glad I finally went! #Now I’m going to hide in my nice quiet apartment for the next few days hdhdhdh #Alas no Polybius cabinet- I half expected one of the ‘recreations’ to be tucked in a dark corner in one of the side rooms somewhere #- what with it being a local conspiracy theory/legend and all

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 2

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (still not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon what canon

Word Count: 2k

A/N: So... this was posted prematurely a couple hours ago. This is the actual finished longer version. If you don't know what I'm talking about, thank god. Sorry this took so long, lmao

Just letting you guys know that my knowledge of the lore is purely based off of the movies and the Dune wiki rabbit hole I fell into right after watching part two. I also took a few liberties with the canon here.

I'm super open to constructive criticism, or any criticism at all (feel free to absolutely roast me). Like I mentioned, I've never written fanfic before so I'd love to hear your thoughts!

The evening of your first day in Giedi Prime was celebrated with a banquet where you were introduced to the most important people on the planet. You've heard many stories of the ruthlessness and brutality of the Harkonnens, hence surprised by the courtly welcome during the dinner. Although you did your best to politely ignore the Baron who floated at the head of the table being fed by servants.

You were sat beside his nephew who, despite your mother's education, has evaded your insight. You couldn't quite get a read on him.

Feyd-Rautha whispers to you amid the buzzing conversations of the banquet hall, "are you enjoying the food, little hawk?"

You shoot him a questioning look.

"I like your hairpin," he sneers.

You resist from reaching to touch the Atreides symbol affixed in your hair.

"We don't see such ornaments often here." He quietly laughs in his devilish way, only too amused with himself.

Ah, you realize. He means to torment you.

"Seems early for pet names," you say, picking at your plate, "we've only just met."

"Oh, and yet we are to be wed in less than a week's time," his raspy voice rings in your ear, "I should like to be familiar with my future wife, Lady Atreides."

The marriage pact had been signed when you were only a little girl. Inheriting your father's inclinations, you swore you would uphold your duty, undeterred by the gruesome and abhorrent stories about the Harkonnens—because you knew that centuries of conflict could end within a generation with this union. You were a willing bride.

And yet.

You give him a smile that, to those not privy to your conversation, would seem genuine, "You know nothing of me, na-Baron."

"I should like to learn," you doubt his sincerity but care not enough to discern it. He takes a smug bite of a forkful of meat, "perhaps tomorrow, you shall learn something of me."

The following morning Iassa helps you into another black gown, this time with a veil in anticipation of the black sun.

"Is it not dangerous for Feyd-Rautha to wager his life for a show?" you question.

"The na-Baron is a skilled fighter, my lady. He will emerge victorious," Iassa is straight-faced as she drapes the veil over you.

"Yes, I do not doubt it, but given he is the Baron's heir. Does it not seem a touch irresponsible to even risk it at all."

Not that you actually cared for his life, you just expected that the Harkonnens would be concerned with the preservation of their house regardless of their brutality. You recall your grandfather who got himself killed fighting bulls for sport.

"The na-Baron will be fighting war prisoners. They will be drugged beforehand. It is perfectly safe, my lady."

"Oh." You couldn't decide if you were disappointed or not, "I see."

Iassa seemed intent on dropping the subject, so you do.

You stand before a mirror and take a look at yourself. It is impossible not to be reminded of your mother. She was never one for vanity, but you like to think there was a part of her that always enjoyed the elegant dresses she and you 'had' to wear. You allow yourself a somber smile behind your veil.

"You look beautiful, my lady," Iassa curtsies.

"Thank you," you look at her bowed figure, gray robes made more dull by the stark black choker on her neck. You were sure she was at least 2 standard years younger than you are and it had only been a few months since you came of age. You wondered if she liked pretty dresses too.

Before you can ask her, there is a knock at your door.

The house steward, Jaromir, clears his throat when Iassa opens it for you, "The na-Baron requests your presence before he enters the arena."

Heavy doors open for you in one of the chambers beneath the arena. You are greeted by the sight of a half-dressed Feyd-Rautha being helped into his armor by a servant.

"Lady Atreides," he looks you up and down, "I hope you slept well."

You bow your head in acknowledgment.

"Your knives, master," a large man whom you assume to be the bladesmith presents Feyd-Rautha with two daggers.

The young Harkonnen takes one and caresses the blade with his fingers.

"I've come to wish the brave na-Baron well before his fight in the arena," you say in false earnestness.

He smiles at your inflation of his ego.

"Though I must say, I am relieved it is all for show. I would not like to see my groom wounded before we are wed."

"For show?" Feyd-Rautha tilts his head and you see his arrogant facade show the slightest crack.

"Yes, I've heard your opponents will be drugged will they not?" your voice dripping with innocence, "to ensure your safety, of course."

His grip on the dagger tightens, "and where did you hear this exactly?"

You sense the awkwardness and tension in the servants. The one who had helped don Feyd-Rautha's armor has quietly retreated to the far side of the chamber. There is a subtle tremble in the hands of one holding a plate of towels. You finally notice the three women piled upon a raised platform glaring at you.

"Just voices around the fortress," you shrug.

A deep breath recovers Feyd-Rautha's smug expression. "Call for the warden," he orders one of the guards by the door, "tell him to prepare new prisoners. Sober ones."

"My lord, you need not endanger yourself," you feign worry.

"Nonsense." The na-Baron walks closer to tower over you, "My lady bride deserves to see my true prowess."

He sees through your challenge, but you don't care. Seeing his self-satisfied smirk wiped from his face for even just a second was worth it.

"Besides," he turns away from you to inspect the second knife, "my darlings enjoy meat that's fought for its life."

The three women sneer at this and you see their sharp teeth as they hiss amongst themselves.

You've heard of Feyd-Rautha's concubines long before you arrived on Giedi Prime. Tales of their taste for human flesh were one of the things that tested your resolve in fulfilling the marriage pact. You didn't mind that the na-Baron would keep other women. It would result in less of his attentions on yourself, you figured. It was their perverse appetite that nauseated you.

A look of revulsion hides behind your veil which you sense they would be all too happy to rip to shreds.

"I will see you in the stands, little hawk," Feyd-Rautha whispers to you as he waves for a guard to escort you out.

You do your best to drown out the noise of what seemed to be a countless audience that came to see the na-Baron fight. You could understand now why they uphold such brutal traditions. The people are so excited for it.

On the other side of the arena, you sense Vladimir Harkonnen watching you from the Baron's Box that towered over the whole arena. The blazing sun only helps you avoid looking in his direction. You were sat at a viewing box, still for nobility and separated from the masses, but much lower and closer to the sands of the arena. Jaromir had told you that you were to 'give the na-Baron your favor'.

Before long, the master of ceremonies announces Feyd-Rautha's entrance in Giedi Prime Speech. They are celebrating his betrothal to you and the union of Harkonnen and Atreides, you translate in your head. You wonder if the people care for the politics of the Great Houses. They seemed no less excited to cheer at your name despite the centuries-old blood feud.

Massive doors open as the na-Baron walks into the arena. His arms outstretched holding his knives like an extension of his limbs. He riles up the crowd as he walks towards the Baron's Box and kneels to his uncle. He then rises and walks toward you, smirking under the stark light of the black sun.

You may not fear earning the Harkonnens' contempt, but you were the Duke of Caladan's daughter and you knew that the favor of the people was invaluable.

You stand and walk to the edge of the viewing box. The glowing smile you reveal as you lift your veil draws cheers from the crowd that rival what Feyd-Rautha received. You produce a pure white handkerchief from your dress pocket and make a show of kissing it and waving the cloth at the buzzing crowd. You throw it off the edge and it floats toward the na-Baron who had moved both daggers to one hand to catch it. He looks up at you with what you think could be the seeds of respect and tucks the cloth into the tight armband around his right bicep.

He turns back to the audience and raises his knives in a war cry. The crowd explodes in guttural cheers and applause. Feyd-Rautha takes his position in the middle of the arena as his first opponent is released into the white sands.

You've heard of the Harkonnen heir's aptitude in single combat. It's time to see if the stories were true or if it was just another part of their menacing facade.

You were handed a pair of spyglasses to observe with. The two fighters approach each other, the prisoner wielding a knife of his own. Feyd-Rautha holds a taunting stance. The prisoner was sober, you were sure, but even without the spyglasses, you could see he was weak. You surmised the Harkonnen cells weren't very hospitable. He attempts a swipe but the na-Baron parries with ease. Another and the na-Baron dodges. Zooming in, you could see Feyd-Rautha's twisted amusement. He was toying with the poor man—and the people loved it.

The crowds cheered at the clashing of metal, thundering when the na-Baron drew first blood by slashig his opponent's arm. It wasn't long before Feyd-Rautha's dagger had impaled the prisoner's heart. There was no pause before a second prisoner was brought out to meet a similar fate.

Feyd-Rautha stood unwounded, seething with exhilaration. He enjoyed this; the thrill of killing. He basked in the roar of the crowd. You had never ended a life before, but some deep part of you could almost understand how he felt in that moment.

A third prisoner enters the arena. He looked older than the first two, bearded and taller. He reminded you of Gurney Halleck, the Atreides Warmaster. This man certainly wasn't at his prime but you could tell he would not go down as easily as the first two.

The warrior holds his blade out in a firm fighting stance, refusing to make the first move. You notice picadors in black suits have entered the arena, circling the na-Baron and his opponent. Feyd-Rautha lunges at the prisoner and a quick series of parries from both sides occur. You see the finesse in the na-Baron's movement. He recognizes his opponent's skill and he is taking this one seriously. You were not sure what you expected of the Harkonnen's fighting style but Feyd-Rautha was vicious but precise. The crowd gasps when the prisoner disarms one of the na-Baron's knives. The warrior manages to get a grip on Feyd-Rautha's armed hand and aims to pierce the na-Baron's neck with his blade. The na-Baron struggled against his hold and the arid air was thick with anticipation.

You were unsure what outcome you desired as you stared through your spyglass. Perhaps this warrior kills your betrothed. What then? Would you really be able to go back to Caladan's windy cliffs again? Return to the arms of your mother as if it were all a bad dream? You wonder if when Feyd-Rautha becomes baron, and you his baroness, could you convince him to let you see your family.

The warrior's blade was dangerously close to your future husband's throat when one of the picadors lashes at the warrior. The na-Baron growls at the offending picador as the warrior is weakened. Feyd-Rautha pushes him off and allows him a moment to recover, taunting him to try again. Blades clash once more and after a sequence of quick ferocious movements, Feyd-Rautha's blade slashes the warrior's throat. Blood made black by the infrared of the sun splatters onto the na-Baron. He licks the darkness that landed on his lips. Heaving, he takes your bloodied handkerchief off his armband and raises it to you and the roaring crowd.

You did not even realize you were already standing, breathless at the sight.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore

#feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune #dune part two #baron harkonnen #baron vladimir harkonnen #house harkonnen #house atreides #giedi prime #austin butler #space-mango-company #fic: stranger

[kinzis-writing]

Last Christmas | Rafe Cameron

Kinzi's 25 Days of Christmas: Blogmas day 3

Summary: It's Christmas in Outer Banks, the holiday where you got to spend time with your friends. It's hard to enjoy the holiday when your mind goes back to last Christmas and who you were spending it with.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warning(s): a few cuss words, hints at ward cameron being a unaliver, mentions of breakup, soft! rafe.

Disclaimer: in this imagine Rafe did NOT kill peterkin and he’s not psycho. He’s a normal boy who just needed some extra love. So in this imagine Ward will be the villain 100% and Rafe 0% (besides breaking up)

*Gif not mine* *Not proofread or edited!*

*Christmas Eve - OBX*

It had been 11 months since you had been in Outer Banks, your breakup with your ex-boyfriend had been too hard on you to stay. After that you felt the need to leave Outer Banks and your family had finally convinced you to come back and spend the holidays with them. You knew that they would try to convince you to stay and not go back to living with your aunt on the mainland, however, you were unsure if that would be the best choice.

"Y/N!" Sarah shouted as she ran to hug you. The big house your family parked outside of looked familiar, but no longer felt like home. It wasn't what you were used too, or maybe it was what was no longer with you. "I am so glad your back, we've missed you around here." she stated pulling away from the hug.

You were like Sarah, born a kook but turned into a pogue. The only difference is that your family did not make a difference between the kooks and pogues. There had been many times when your family had fed the pogues or gave them a place to stay when they needed it. Your family was very understanding, and you appreciated every little thing they did for your friends.

"Only back for the holidays." Y/N told her as the two headed into the big house that she used to call home. The girl's quickly made their way up to the room that was her’s so they could get Y/N settled in. “It feels unreal, being back in this bedroom.” She muttered memories of her and her ex flooded her mind. No one knew Rafe Cameron the way that Y/N. While he was trouble, most of the time, he was caring around her. Well, she thought so anyways.

Sarah gave the girl a small smile, “there’s a party, John B decided to have a Christmas celebration.” The Cameron girl spoke. “Your parents allowed them to use your guest house, out back…” she trailed off. Knowing that the idea of a party would make the girl nervous.

“Why would they do that?” Y/N asked going through her clothes knowing she’d be dragged to this party regardless of what she wanted.

Sarah shrugged, “John B said it was a “get together” type thing and you know how your family is about welcome home celebrations.” She explained watching the girl shuffle through the clothes that she was putting away. “You’re just back for the holidays, remember? Let’s make the most of it with our friends.”

🎄

By 10 that night the party was on, the guest house behind Y/N’s house was overflowing with guests who had greeted the girl back with open arms. She had showed up an hour late, due to worrying about what to wear, how to do her hair and makeup, and stalling in hopes of not seeing him.

“Y/N, the life of the party decided to come back to us!” JJ Maybank yelled over the music as the girl joined the pogues in the den. “Y/N, you know my girlfriend Kiara, right?” He asked smuggled.

Y/N’s eyes widen in shock, “really, you two? When did that happen?” She asked surprised about her friends becoming lovers.

“Let’s just say that you’ve missed a lot.” Kiara spoke before pulling the girl into a bone crushing hug, “it’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” y/n spoke with a smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to be rude so your guest of honor is going to go grab a drink.”

Y/N made her way through the crowd and into the cramped kitchen. She was pouring herself a drink and just thinking about her life. She had thought that being back made her feel out of place, that was until she was next to her friends then she felt at home.

“I’ll be damned,” a voice spoke from behind her as she slowly stopped pouring her drink. “I honestly didn’t think I’d see you again.” The voice of her former friend continued.

Y/N sat her cup on the kitchen counter and turned around to face the man behind her. “Kelce,” she greeted with a smile. “It’s good to see you.” She added as she stepped forward and pulled the man into a hug.

“It’s great to see you.” He replied as they pulled away. He glanced around the kitchen before looking back at her. “Have you seen him since you’ve been back?” He asked carefully unsure of how the the girl would reply.

Y/N shook her head as she turned around the grab her drink, “I was hoping to avoid him.” She mumbled before taking a sip of the drink. “It hurt, bad.” She shrugged thinking back to last Christmas and how close they were. “I had to get out and I don’t plan on ever coming back permanently.” She spoke the truth. At this current time, she had no plans of staying in outer banks.

Kelce gave her a sad smile, “I know Rafe puts on a facade, but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t hurt too.” The man told his best friend’s ex. He knew that the two of them were inseparable and truth be told, Rafe didn’t tell anyone as to why they broke up.

Y/N rolled her eyes at the man in front of her before playing with her fingers. “Maybe but-” she cut herself when she looked around kelce and locked eyes with the one man that she planned to avoid. “I have to go.” She mumbled after looking away from Rafe. She walked around kelce and made her way back to the pogues.

It was going to be a long night and she knew it.

The party had been going on for a few hours and everyone was either drunk, passed out, making out, or playing games. Y/N had only had two drinks, making her pretty much sober because she didn’t trust herself if she was to get drunk. No matter where she went tonight she felt as if Rafe was following her or he knew her next step. She had locked eyes with him many times tonight and each time it got her heart racing, her hands sweaty, and made her nervous.

She didn’t understand why he still made her feel that way. After all, she was over him! Or was she? “Hey guys,” Y/N called as she walked over to the pogues. “Thank you guys for this Christmas slash welcome back party, but I’m super tired so I think I’m gonna walk back over and head to bed.” She told them. She gave them all hugs and said good night before leaving the guest house and heading back over to her house.

She was beyond excited to be able to go to sleep. Her parents were going on their houseboat tonight with some friends, so she’d have the house to herself and could relax all she needed. She knew that in order to face tomorrow and the days to come that she would need to get herself together.

“Did you honestly think you wouldn’t run into him at some point?” She asked herself in her head. She knew that she would at least see him, but she was hoping that he wouldn’t see her back or that she could avoid him.

Y/N pushed open her bedroom door while unzipping her dress. She was beyond ready to get out of that dress and get into comfortable clothes. “Holy shit!” She jumped when she moved her head up. Her hand instinctively went over her heart because of how fast it was beating.

Sitting in her desk chair beside her bed was Rafe Cameron. He didn’t have his usually cocky expression on his face, but a soft smile did form when he realized he had accidentally scared her. “I’m sorry,” his voice came out quietly and soft. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Y/N scoffed eyeing the man in front of her, “you didn’t mean to startle me? Why are you in my room?”

“I wanted to talk and I knew you’d run at the party.” Rafe shrugged as he pushed himself up from the desk chair.

“You lost the privilege to come over unannounced when you broke it off last year.” Y/N told him as she felt her chest get heavy at the thought of how things ended. She would’ve done anything for Rafe and everyone knew it, so whenever he broke it off… it was a shock.

“You never let me explain,” Rafe started as he walked a bit closer, but Y/N just scooted back not wanting him to get close. Mainly because she was afraid she’d give in. “A lot happened after you left and some of it is still going on.”

“Maybe it has, but Sarah also told me about your new girlfriend.” Y/N replied seeing his eyes darkened for a moment before he let out a huff. “I was obviously the problem with something going on in your head.”

Y/N knew that Rafe had anxiety and depression. she also knew that he was yearning to make his father proud because Sarah was their favorite. She had been with him through everything and that’s why she didn’t understand why he left her.

Rafe ran a hand through his hair before taking another step closer causing Y/N’s back to hit the wall when she stepped away. “My father wanted me to do his dirty work and I was afraid that he would hurt you if I refused.” Rafe explained the girl that he loved, even if he never told her. “I broke it off so you would be safe and he couldn’t use you against me. The one Sarah told you about was a distraction I was with her to replace you and it never worked.”

Y/N could see the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke about his father and his ex girlfriend. “I loved you, Rafe. I would’ve done anything for you and you know it!” She spoke her voice coming out in a whisper.

“I know that, baby.” Rafe spoke back equally as quiet. “Which is why I broke it off, he was crazy and the things he wanted me to do… I needed you here and I needed you alive.” He took another step and that made him right in front of the girl that he had fallen in love with himself. “I’ve always loved you, Y/N. I never properly said it but I do.”

Y/N sucked in a breath, her emotions weighing down on her. He just admitted his true feelings, something that he never did when they were actually together. It was surreal hearing those words come out of his mouth, something that she had never expected. "Then why not try to get through it?" she asked the hurt in her voice showing. "Last Christmas was the last good memory we have, and we didn't even break up until New Years Day."

"If my dad didn't do what he did then we would still be together." Rafe promised.

Y/N's eyes teared up thinking about losing Rafe, she had been with other people and for some reason she had fallen head over heels in love with Rafe Cameron. She was slowly accepting the fact that she was still very much in love with the Cameron boy.

"When are you going to stop living to please your family?" She asked softly. "You are so much more than what your family thinks of you, who cares what they view you as. You deserve to be loved, Rafe. You need to believe that." she whispered softly so she wouldn't make his softness break.

Rafe's eye matched Y/Ns as both of them held tears threatening to fall. He knew that Y/N understood his situation and never once judged him for it. Making him know that she was definitely a keeper and the one for him. Without saying anything, he quickly slammed his lips to hers. Scared that she would reject the kiss if she thought about it too long. He knew his way around her overthinking, seeing as he had helped her with it many times.

Y/N did not object the way he thought she would, instead she yearned for him. She had wanted him since she left outer banks and she had wanted him when she locked eyes with him in her guest kitchen earlier. If he was willing to be with her, even just for the night, she was going to take it. Because at least for one moment, it can feel like the love they had Last Christmas was still alive.

Author's Note: So, I was originally going to base this imagine as "Last Christmas" by WHAM! Turns out I went a different direction and a part two will come out the next time I write for Rafe. I think that it's in a week or two, so if you enjoyed it, I hope you'll stay looking for that. I also feel like this could have been better and that it could have been smoother, but it is what it is. Also, sorry this is so late! I had the stomach virus (stomach flu) and I felt miserable and today is the only day I started feeling like myself and I have also finished all my finals so now I am back to full time writing, excluding my work shifts!

#outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #outer banks imagines #outerbanks #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe cameron imagine #obx fanfiction #obx fic #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #imagines #obx imagines #obx #drew starkey #kinzi's 25 days of christmas #christmas imagines #christmas imagine #kinzis 25 days of blogmas #kinzis 25 days of christmas #25 days of imagines #25 days of christmas

[shiny-kaibernyte]

Could you do a Drayton x GN!Reader, where reader is rather clingy,

(and possibly trying to avoid Carmine by sticking w/ Drayton, knowing that she hates him? This is opt but it'd be p cool if you added this)

Ooo this is so adorable! I loved writing this so much! And I did include the Carmine request for you, I love my girl Carmine. I got a bit carried away though so i do hope you like it 💜💜

Pokémon Scarlett and Violet Indigo Disk DLC Spoilers ahead!

After a long and ruthless day of training, Drayton wants nothing more than to just lay down with his s/o and chill. And his s/o wants the exact same thing but there seems to be a road block between them.

SPOILER WARNING AHEAD (Indigo Disk Main Story and a little bit of The Teal Mask)

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

Just this once | Drayton x Clingy Reader

“Is it just me, or is Kieran even more snappy today?” Lacey questioned as the door to the League club room opened. Drayton just sighed in response, holding the door open for the group, still feeling the strain from his training battle with Kieran.

Crispin was still fired up when he rushed into the room, hitting his hand against his pan. “What is his deal? Why can’t he get over himself!? I'm burning up just thinking about it. Who does he think he is? Revives aren't allowed, even in training battles!? Let alone two max revives.”

“Calm yourself, Crispin. Yelling about it won’t solve a thing,” Amarys calmly responded, pulling out her pocket watch and examining the time carefully.

“Sounds like you four had a fun time out there." Your voice chimed from the corner. A smile on your face when the group jumps from your response. Well, all except Drayton, who went from being stressed and tired to happy and tired. "Kieran giving you a hard time again?”

Drayton rubbed the back of his neck as he stretched his other arm up. “Hard time isn’t the word for it; I've never been so against Pokemon battling in my life. Apparently, a simple double battle isn’t good enough for our almighty  champion. "Rolling his eyes as he says champion before making his way over to you.

“I'm still all fired up from the fight! And I didn’t even fight Keiran,” Crispin chimed, crossing his arms in frustration, his fiery rage still burning. The whole place would be on fire if his rage continued.

“Crispin, I think you should get some fresh air. Come on, let's go find some Pokémon to battle.” Lacey calmly placed her hand on his shoulder before ushering him out of the room. Waving to her fellow members before her quick exit.

Finally putting the pocket watch away, Amarys sees herself out as well, giving nothing more than a simple farewell. Leaving just you and Drayton in the League club room. Drayton finally sits down for the first time in hours, pulling you onto the sofa with him. “I am beat... and not just mentally either; think Kieran landed one to many Super Sonic's. Ears are still ringing!” A small laugh escaped your lips as he banged his hand against his ear, acting as if he's trying to get something out, getting a bit too aggressive in the process.

“If you keep doing that, you’re going to hurt yourself." You smiled, taking his hand away from his face and into the grasp of your own before moving to sit on his lap, which he happily accepted, putting his free arm around you to hold you there. "Okay, so tell me everything that happened!”

Half way through his very long explanation about how Kieran decided to test the strength of him and Lacey to 'see if they were still worthy’ along with his max revive cheating when they began getting the upper hand on him, Carmine suddenly burst through the door, almost taking the poor thing off its hinges. “I WILL KILL HIM!”

“That’s one way to make an entrance... Are you okay over there?” Drayton questioned, his arms still around you, tightening when you jumped closer to him at her sudden entrance. You could see the steam coming off of Carmine as she paced aggressively around the room, mumbling something to herself.

“No, I am very much not an okay captain obvious! Kieran has crossed a line today, and I need to blow off some steam! Amarys won’t battle me, and I can't find Crispin or Lacey, so one of you two will have to do it, and I'm not taking no for an answer!” She demanded coming over to you both, not even questioning the fact that you're just sitting on his lap.

Drayton shook his head and sighed. “I'm all battled out for today, so you will be taking no for an answer!”

"Fine, then I’ll battle you!” Before you could even protest, Carmine grabbed your arm in a non-aggressive way and practically yanked you away from him, much to your dismay. Letting go once you were by the door. Immediately, you stepped away, wanting to head back for Drayton, who was now standing up, flabbergasted by the audacity. "Hey, no walking out on me; we're battling!”

“Carmine, maybe you should take another look around for Crispin or Lacey? I mean, they have to be somewhere, right?” You respond, hoping she will just decide to go find them and use wild Pokémon as her victims of battle rage. As much as you loved her, you really just wanted to spend time with Drayton; he was your boyfriend, and he needed you as much as you needed him. And now Carmine has burst into the room like a wild Rhyhorn and pulled you away from him.

“No way! You’re here; you aren't doing anything important, so let's battle! I need to battle you so I can go talk to Kiki with a calmer  mind. "She pleaded, fists clenched, as she finally gave her reason for being mad. “He can’t just blame me for one of his Pokémon fainting just because I was watching! I didn’t distract him from that fight; I didn't even say anything!” She continued to rant after that, not even noticing you weren't near her anymore.

Slowly continuing to back away, you somehow manage to make it back to Drayton's side as you hook your arm through his. Finally, You managed to get a word in through Carmine's rambling. “You know... maybe just this once you could go battle some wild Pokémon? I heard there was a Scizor outbreak going on in the canyon."

“Huh? A what? No, I don't care about any stupid outbreaks. I need a real challenge! And you are going to give me that  challenge. "Carmine once again protested, " If she's anything, it’s determined. “And why do you keep hiding behind toothpaste? I'm not that angry!”

"No, you are; I can see the smoke coming out of your ears.” Drayton mocked crossing his arms as he stepped forward, leaning against the wall beside him as you continued to stay almost glued to his side.

“Zip it, Colgate! You’re not a part of this.” She snapped, staring daggers into his soul when he began laughing. “Unless you’ve changed your mind, you shush it!”

“Carmine, breathe; you are stressed. Take a moment to cool down and just think about my offer; who knows, maybe you could find a shiny Scizor there. That would definitely be one up, Kieran, huh?” Once again, you make an attempt to sway Carmine’s favour, hoping she will take the hint that you really don’t want to leave Drayton right now. Yeah, the fight will be short-lived given the team differences, but all you really wanted to do was just cuddle up to his side like a Komala.

Completely unexpectedly, Carmine stops abruptly and places her hand on her chin, thinking intensely. The way she can just switch off her rage so quickly is scary but hilarious at the same time. “A shiny one would be cool... Plus, Scizor is a pretty tough Pokémon, so I would get some good training done. And Kiki doesn’t have a shiny, so when I talk to him later, I can use it if he gets too pushy again. ALRIGHT! I’m going to get a shiny Scizor!”

Without another word, she just bolted out the door as fast as she came in. Drayton is just confused as he chuckles to himself. "Well, that was something. I’m honestly surprised that it worked; you certainly have a better way of calming the beast than I do love.”

“I'm also surprised that worked! And don’t call her a beast. "You respond by laughing along with him. “Though I'm glad it did work, I was worried I'd have to battle her and miss out on my cuddles.”

“You know I'd never let you miss that! I’d be too lonely. Besides, what's gonna keep me warm when you’re not around? A blanket I think not.” He teased, pulling you against his chest with a smile, your hands resting on his chest. “Though just once, I'm actually glad Carmine interrupted us... Her yelling probably cleared off the whole corridor, so why don’t we head up to my dorm before the swarm files back in? I rented your favourite movie this week.”

“If I get to stay with you, then I am so in!” You cheer. Taking his hand into yours as you drag him out of the room, rush back to his dorm for the peace and quiet you both desperately want. So much yelling for such little time.

#drayton x reader #drayton #pokemon #pokemon x reader #pokemon dlc #pokemon indigo disk #pokemon sv spoilers #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon spoilers #shiny pokemon #Drayton Pokémon #dlc #pokemon fanfiction #fluff #clingy duo #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #carmine #fanfic #rival kieran #kieran #the teal mask #romance

[faulty-writes]

Hii! I apologize if you keep getting notifications from me at such an hour but I cant get enough of your posts! I love the way you write Tenya!

So if I may trouble you just a bit longer…

Since it’s spooky season, what would your take be on vampire Tenya x f (or gn) reader? And vampire Monoma as well?

[ Oh I like trouble, trust me. Haha. Thank you. I swear I get so many compliments regarding how I write Tenya, makes me so proud of myself. One spooky season request coming up! ]

Despite being what many assumed was a "blood-sucking" creature, Tenya had a sense of elegance and self-discipline because of his upbringing. Yes, he was what most would refer to as a "rich kid" but he was not spoiled in any capacity and often adhered to his own rules which included having manners even when thirsty for blood.

Most found Tenya to be intimidating, but you found him intriguing despite initially being unaware of his true nature. The two of you met in a bookstore late at night and you recall the way he stumbled when he rounded the corner of a bookshelf to find you and the way he bowed and said "Pardon, I was unaware there was another frequenting this shop so late at night."

The two of you began to meet frequently at the bookstore after that, and although you thought it peculiar Tenya only requested to meet you at night. You assumed it was because he was busy during the day but in all truth, he was struggling to avoid revealing his true nature to you and feared that once you found out he was a vampire you'd…well you would not want to see him again.

He slipped one night, after pushing himself too far. Yes, self-control was essential. But one could only contain themselves for so long and vampires were particularly dangerous when deprived of blood. "I…I apologize I…I did not wish for you to see me as such a…monster," while initially a shock, you tried to be accepting and understanding of what he was.

Being the person you were, his vampiric world fascinated you, and he didn't hesitate to teach you about the history of his lineage or his nightly rituals which typically included performing a series of prayers, chants, and such before he drank whatever blood he had managed to obtain.

Unfortunately, Tenya also informed you of the dangerous side of his world. Mostly the rogue vampires who strayed from the societal rules of their world and killed or injured humans during their bloodlust. "I promise, I will not allow harm to come to you. Ensuring your safety is quite a priority." Yes…he would go to whatever lengths he needed to ensure you remained by his side.

To double ensure your safety, Tenya presented you with gifts frequently. Usually, these consisted of protective charms, blessed holy water, and amulets that were believed to ward off bad supernatural threats. Of course, he would never tell you the hoops he had to go through to get such gifts.

Sometimes it was hard to keep up with Tenya's schedule considering he was more active at night. But he assured you that he enjoyed your company and often insisted that you could rest when you appeared extremely tired. Waking up in his bed or falling asleep against his shoulder became a frequent occurrence for you.

His parents were hesitant to accept you and your growing relationship with their son. On the other hand, his brother, Tensei welcomed you with open arms. "It's awesome that my little bro finally found someone! And just to let you know, it doesn't matter if you're human, another vampire, or even a witch. I believe that people who look past such things are the coolest!" It was safe to assume that Tenya got his beliefs from Tensei.

"I believe with enough effort, we may eliminate the prejudice that separates our societies to coexist together in harmony," one of Tenya's deepest wishes was to break the barriers between his and your kind. Although he had not intended to feel affection for you, he did. Yet, he looked at it as the first step to uniting your kind as he dreamed.

Neito, unfortunately, was out of blood and sought to get it fresh from an unsuspecting human. That human happened to be you and he was only attracted to you because of the intoxicating scent of your blood. However, he quickly found that you were not a frail human and stood your ground far more than he expected.

While some would be embarrassed, Neito remained his ignorant self after realizing you were quite the troublesome individual. "How dare you reject me! I am Neito Monoma, and I demand you provide me with your blood!" As far as you were concerned, underneath his vampiric nature was nothing more than a spoiled child and you were prepared to discipline him as needed.

He continued to stalk you, despite finding alternative blood donors because as much as he hated to admit it, he found you intriguing. For a human that is, and used his sharp wit accompanied by playful banter whenever you caught him in his stalking efforts. "Surely you didn't think I'd leave you alone, oh no my dear, quite the opposite. I do not stop until I get what I want and what I want is your blood," and your affection, but he kept that to himself.

Your opinion of him didn't change until you were attacked by another one of his kind. Your guard was down initially because you had mistaken them for Neito, and despite your skills, you were losing the fight until he showed up and saved you. He'd be damned if he let another taste your blood before he got the chance to.

You detested the idea of letting him finally drink from you but considering his courageous actions. You allowed him the opportunity and found that he was surprisingly gentle when feeding from you. "Surely you didn't compare me to such monsters as that rouge one who attempted to take what is mine, how insulting. I pride myself in presentation and manners," he stated, acting just a touch too offended.

Despite not letting many people in, the two of you continued to spend time together, and Neito began to reveal his past. How he came from a high-class family, their rather…unbelievable expectations of him, and how he wishes to break free and prove his own worth to the world. Of course, that was a challenge given the current state of discrimination toward his kind, but he was still determined to do whatever he could to make his dream come true.

He finds himself feeling peaceful when in your presence and this was new to him and something that gave him a sense of belonging. It was almost as if being in your presence kept his demons at bay and he partially wondered if you wore any protection symbols or amulets on your person.

On occasion, Neito would still struggle with the affection he felt for you and his nature. Vampires were strong, drank blood, and didn't hesitate to do what they wanted to obtain said blood. But even though he knew you would allow him to drink from you. He found that he didn't want to cause you any harm and thus the conflict continued but he kept this a secret from you.

Eventually, Neito agreed to allow you to meet his family. Although it was immediately apparent, they detested you merely because you were human and spoke ill of Neito for befriending and furthermore feeling the way he did toward you. "Humans are meant to be our food source, nothing more," they said which caused Neito to argue with them before ultimately dragging you out the door.

Despite your unusual relationship, Neito viewed it as fulfilling his commitment to protect and cherish you for as long as you lived, and from what he understood, that was for a short time. He planned to propose to turn you but decided to wait to bring that up. For now, he'd enjoy your company.

#tenya x reader #neito x reader #iida x reader #monoma x reader #tenya x you #monoma x y/n #tenya x y/n #tenya x female reader #iida x male reader #iida x you #iida x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #neito x female reader #tenya iida x reader #faulty writes: tenya iida: 23 #faulty writes: tenya iida: headcanons: 23 #faulty writes: neito monoma: 23 #faulty writes: neito monoma: headcanons: 23

[javarium]

Hourglass | Sirius Black.

Summary: Fate changes when you intervene and stop Sirius from trying to kill Peter for his betrayal. Sirius doesn’t go to Azkaban, and you and your husband up raising your godson Harry.

****

You barely made it in time. Your scream of hatred distracted Sirius and Peter long enough to petrify your husband — “Petrificus Totalus!” — mere seconds before Peter blew up the entire street.

It was all you could do. You couldn’t kill Peter and you couldn’t let Sirius kill him either. All you could do was stop Sirius, and you’d done it successfully. Even at the cost of him fully directing his anger at you.

“Do you know what you’ve done?!”

“I saved you from getting sent to Azkaban!”

“I would’ve rather!” Sirius yelled. “Peter deserves to die for what he’s done!”

“And Harry deserves to have his godfather in his life!” you fired back, tears streaming down your cheeks. “And I deserve to have my husband! Don’t let Peter do more damage and take you away from me — from Harry!”

Sirius’ face contorted, several different emotions passing through him in less than a second. He looked between where Peter had been, you, and the ground, half-heartedly pacing back and forth angrily. The Aurors would be arriving soon, and he wasn’t entirely sure if they would believe him.

They’d believe you… probably. With your deeper connections into the Ministry and the fact you’ve made many friends over the years, they had to believe your word that Sirius hadn’t killed Peter.

“They’ll check our wands to see what spell we’ve used last,” you mutter as you fix his hair. “Hope yours was—“

“Expelliarmus.” He grimaced, hoping the disarming spell wouldn’t be his undoing.

True to word, when the Aurors arrived, that was the first thing they did. You clenched your teeth together a little too hard when it looked like they were going to break yours and Sirius’ wands. You kept them on one side of you and Sirius, rather than let them circle around you to intimidate you.

Mad-Eye Moody was the one that vouched for the two of you. He also played a big part of scaring off the other Aurors when they got too close and too rude.

Moody side-eyes you with his fake eye and speaks lowly, “Go back to Grimmauld and wait. Dumbledore and McGonagall will be there to advise you on what’ll happen next. Harry should be there with them, too. Be prepared for a trial from the Ministry.”

After about an hour, you and Sirius were finally allowed to go home. The Aurors were erasing the memories of any of the Muggles that had seen anything remotely close to magic.

Apparating back to and inside of Grimmauld Place per Moody’s advice, true to Mad-Eye’s word, both Dumbledore and McGonagall were there waiting for your and your husband, the latter more visibly upset.

Wait, Hagrid’s here?

But you understood why Hagrid was there, seeing what was in his arms before Sirius did.

The half-giant smiled up at you from the couch. “Ah, ‘ere ya go, [Name]. One sleepin’ tyke.”

Hagrid hands you your godson as carefully as a half-giant can. The moment you adjust Harry in your arms, your heart melts and you almost begin to cry.

You want to cry because of how much you already love this boy. You want to cry because of what you’ve lost. You want to cry for Harry and what he’s lost, because he’ll never know his wonderful parents and their devotion and unconditional love for him — the very same love that’s the only reason Harry’s alive.

“O’, don’ cry, [Name].”

“How can I not?” You sniffle, trying not to really cry and get in your feelings too much while you hold the adorable infant. “How can I not be upset after all that’s happened? Harry doesn’t have any parents; he’ll never know them.”

Warm lips press themselves to the side of your temple in a loving kiss.

“He’ll know them as best as he can through us,” Sirius says quietly, but the room is so silent everyone can hear him despite that. “He has us, and we’ll protect him from everything that tries to harm him or come after him. We will protect him, love him the same way Lily and James would have.”

You turn to look at him and reply sadly, “But we’re not his parents, Sirius.”

“No,” he agrees, “but we’re all Harry’s got now. And we’re going to give him the as close to the same life that James and Lily would have.”

At the mention of his name, the baby in your arms shifted. He yawned cutely, then opened his big green eyes that reminded you of your best friend. Your late best friend.

And you wholeheartedly agree with Sirius, “We sure will.”

#sirius black #sirius black fic #sirius black x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #angst #angst to fluff #angst to comfort #angst with a happy ending

[fineghkst]

Too late

Once Rhysand invites Eris to the winter solstice, you got all the attention from the heir of the Autumn Court, making a jealous Azriel.

warnings: a little bit of angst, azriel being jealous.

again, english is not my first language so possibly you can find some mistakes ahead

part II

It all started when Rhysand decided to invite Eris to the winter solstice. Azriel wasn’t happy with the idea of having that male in Velaris and the High Lord of the Night Court was very much aware of that, so he made sure to have a talk to Azriel, considering the Illyrian male almost tried to kill the Autumn Court heir in the past.

“You will treat him nicely. If you can’t do that, you are not welcome in the solstice this year.” Rhysand said. He wasn’t acting like Azriel’s brother or friend, he was acting like a High Lord, and Azriel knew he couldn’t question him. “I can’t risk ruining this alliance.”

“I understand. I will do my best to treat him… decently.” Azriel said against his will.

“Good.”

Azriel wasn’t the only one thinking it was a terrible idea, since Mor almost runaway and decided to pass the winter solstice with Emerie.

Still, Rhysand had to strengthen the alliance with Eris, and inviting him only to the Court of Nightmares wasn’t enough anymore. If he truly wanted to have the Autumn Court by his side, he had to show he trusted Eris. Nothing would prove it better than allowing his presence in Velaris.

Days go by fast, and the winter solstice finally approached. Eris arrived almost one hour late, probably trying to make a big entrance, which almost made Azriel roll his eyes in disgust.

And since Eris has put his fancy shoes in the River House, his eyes couldn’t leave you.

Azriel was pissed.

There was so many people to hook his interest, but of course, Eris Vanserra had to pick you, the only one that Azriel craved for.

His mate. His unaware mate, who didn’t realize the bond until then.

That was torture for Azriel. Pure torture to watch Eris approach you, to give a warm smile at you and slowly kiss your hand.

That should be him.

But the worst part was to watch from far you smile at him, blushing at something he whispered. Then, when Azriel thought it couldn’t get any worse, Eris put a small box out of his pocket, and give it to you, receiving a surprised look in response.

He felt his wings twitch. His shadows seemed to stop moving for a moment.

“(y/n), I couldn’t come all my way to Velaris and didn’t bring a gift to celebrate this special date” Eris said, giving you the box.

“Eris, you shouldn’t had to…”

“Of course I should. Come on, open it.”

Azriel watched you open it, and take off a bracelet. A gold bracelet with a stone pendant that seems to glow with pure fire inside.

“This is a tradition in my court, we imbue our own power inside a stone, then give it to someone…special.” Eris explained.

Azriel felt his blood boil, he could kill Eris. He should. He would.

“Calm down, Azriel.” Rhysand’s voice said in his mind.

“Don’t ask me to calm down.” He answered.

“Let her decide what’s best for her. Don’t make a scene.”

“She’s my mate! I can’t watch her with another male. I can’t watch her accepting gifts from him.”

“She’s your mate?” Rhysand gave him a surprised look.

Azriel looked again to your direction, Eris was putting the bracelet on your wrist. He gently stroked your arm afterwards and you gave him a shy smile.

He couldn’t bare looking at that scene anymore. Azriel should have told you about the bond, should have tempted to get more more close to you. If he wasn’t so busy being scared, thinking he was not enough for you, you two could have been more than friends.

But he was late now.

“Azriel?” Rhysand’s voice sounded again in his head.

“Fine. I’m afraid I can’t treat your special guest the way you want me to.” His voice echoed cold in Rhys mind “Since you don’t want me to fucking kill him, I will leave.”

His shadows were moving frenetically, trying to get more close to you. They didn’t wanted to leave you alone with Eris, just like Azriel.

But he couldn't risk ruining his brother's plans. And as much as his soul fought for him to stay with you, to tear you away from Eris, Azriel turned away and left.

He wasn’t welcome there, after all.

#azriel x you #azriel x reader #eris x reader #acotar x reader

[damazcuz]

I've only had this account for about 5 years now. But I've been on tumblr for 13 years, since I was 16 and just starting to learn who I was, what transgender meant, what the world looked like at the time for a group I was swiftly realizing included me.

And for 13 years I have consistently used this site and stayed on, occasionally blog hopping when things felt stale or if things got bad. And things got bad sometimes. You'd get people calling you nasty things in your ask or replies or reblogs or tagging your username to sic their followers on you. And tumblr has always treated targeted harassment as a "Sorry you feel that way. That's not against tos though! Was this answer helpful?" issue whenever it's reported. They've never cared against abuse on their website, IN THE EXCEPTION of cases in which radfems and nazis have maliciously mass reported users for MAYBE hitting their breaking points and MAYBE snapping and saying something stupid that could be used as an excuse. Could be something today or four years ago in your archive but at some point, you had a bad day and posted something that could make tumblr say finally, we can get rid of a pest! or you were just transgender and said as much. A little too loudly in front of the wrong mod.

And this sounds so silly to say. But when you live in a website for 13 years and it's where you have your primary interactions with so many people and where you've met so many of your friends! It starts to feel like your community. Like an apartment building we all live in and visit each other's apartments and talk and decorate and laugh and play. And it's a bit of a dump and we all laugh about the crumbling peeling wallpaper and the slumlord that runs the place. We know the landlord isn't our friend, they just want us to pay rent until we're no good for it anymore. Produce the posts that make this site anything more than a hate forum, make the memes and the art and the posts that end up everywhere from your little sister's pinterest to your mom's Facebook to your uncle's meme subreddit. Keep up the garden and don't pile trash on the curb or you're out. This is "the queerest place on the net" only because queer people live here and hung on with our fingernails to stay here because if you have to leave, what's your fallback? You like your neighbors. They can't all come with you. They won't. Even the kind of crumbly parts feel like home after a while.

Like I want to clarify that Tumblr's reputation as a funny place to chill and scroll and meet people and see new things is not from the transphobes working on staff. Their job is to turn a profit or at least keep it LOOKING profitable, so the site can sell to the next moron to buy it out. The fun and joy of Tumblr is us. WE made this place. When you tear down our decorations and rip out our furnishings and toss us out on the street and look at what's left to show the next prospective tenant, it's a fucking dump. There is nothing left but the shittiest people in our neighborhood who are allowed to stay and make hate posts about us. There's the framework for "someone could make pretty posts here! It's a fixer upper!" But it's shit. It sucks.

I've been spiraling since yesterday over a couple of things I'm not taking well. One is work. "They can't fire us all!" I always joke. And people laugh. Last night my boss and I spent an hour and a half in this miserable fucking meeting, talking about the pressure pushing down on our load bearing team. We fantasized over all 8 of us being able to say "that's enough. I'm better than this. We are all walking out today and we will not come back. Don't text." And we can't. None of us can lose the stability of a full time job that pays kind of okay even though it's killing you. None of us can face that uncerainty. I left with chest pain. It was my first day back after major surgery. I went home and sat in one spot for over six hours almost unmoving, crying and just in disbelief of how unfair it is. We can't leave. But something has to give before my team dissolves and one of us puts a gun in their mouth. And then we all still have to make our shift. Who else will do all that? Who's going to cover, huh? Clock in.

And I spent the rest of my day, which ran to 4 am before I was able to sleep, wishing I could quit and hating what's happening on tumblr just as much. On a fucking blogging platform. Because this has been my fun sandbox for over a decade and it's always kind of sucked, it's full of cat shit and people throw sand at you and you're getting sunburned but it's fun here. You find your people to play with. And then it's like you remember oh yeah, other people here want me dead. The owner of this place wants me to die. He wants everyone that makes this place cool and fun to die. And he'll turn around and say "yeeeah well you shouldn't have joked about being mean to me." And it's like why am I here! Why am I making posts for YOU?

I can't leave employment. I'm only a couple of weeks, maybe a couple months away from homelessness at any given time, with how tight finances are. "Shoestring budget" would be generous. We're making it through sheer force of will. But I can't quit my job, and neither can anyone else.

But I can leave this place that I've hated and loved for so, so long. The other massive drain on my life that wants to see me shrivel and die. I can get up and go. We could all just go. Mass exodus. And I know it won't happen. Give it a week, ten days. People move along. Yeah, that sucked. Well, here we all still are. Still posting. Still tumbling. Still complaining about the landlord. But most people won't leave. How can you walk on your friends and community, knowing they won't all follow? But how do you continue to stay here watching this happen? I'm already listening to people tell me "so? that doesn't affect me. it doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. and of course this happened, duhhhh." It's like, feel stupid for getting comfortable here. You should feel stupid for settling in and making it a home and thinking it would be fun here. If you are transgender you are not safe and you are not wanted. Not in the queerest place on the web, either.

It's not about the funny hammer car explosion """threat.""" It was never about the hammer car explosion. That was a dogwhistle through a megaphone to transphobes. Tumblr's darlings. Don't worry. I'll take care of this one that thinks she can speak up against me. And against you. And now there's a defined "REASON" for the ban. Why, Matt hardly knew he was banning a trans woman. All he knew was fear! He had no choice! And you can ignore the ACLU and the claims of systemic transphobia, that's something else. We fixed that!

I want this place to die because it is already rotting. We are scraping at the bones at this point. Walls are crumbling and there's a hole in the floor to the room below and the windows have long been knocked out and the boiler hasn't worked in years. They aren't going to fix it. It has never been the intention to fix it. They want you to leave or die. Whichever. Don't matter. Just get lost. I will find another tenant. I will find another person who will give me more ad revenue. You are replaceable in that sense. Someone else will join tumblr tomorrow. And tumblr will make a buck off them instead.

But they cannot replace the ways in which you and I have made this site livable and bearable and fun. And I want us to leave so that the husk of this place can collapse and blow away in the wind. I want tumblr to take a major hit and I want the loss of ad revenue to HURT THEM. I want a mad scramble to figure out how to fix it all. They can't. They won't. The fix has always been there and it's always been refused. Terfs will never be turned away from tumblr. Neither will nazis. "Sorry you feel that way, but that's not against our tos. Was this answer helpful?"

You know how they say, "it there are ten people at a table and one is a nazi and no one stands up, you have ten nazis"? This feels like that to me. If 20,000 of us wait a week, shrug, and resume joking and playing and say, well, yeah, it's sad that another dozen trans fems were banned last night. But I like it here...

It feels like that. Why are my trans sisters' archives of 5, 10+ years of life and joy being wiped clean? I can't even tell you how many posts I've seen from an op whose url I recognize from last week, but whose username is grey and icon default, because she posted something less than a day ago to say "yo this sucks. Fuck this place and fuck this guy." They've never ever found the terfs and nazis to ban them because they DON'T CARE. Those are the ones they prefer. That they cater to. Post about the ceo being a dumbfuck and in 12 hours, risk losing your community and the ability to look back at your life online. Clean slate. As if you never lived there. Oh, but tumblr isn't a transphobic place. We fired the one and only naughty transphobe on staff who was taking bribes to send out bans. Pay to win moderation. That person's gone. So it's okay and you don't need to worry. It's okay, I promise. It's the queerest place on the web. Get comfortable.

I love my job and I love this place. One of them is going to push me to the edge. But I can choose to leave one. You can choose to leave with me. They can't fire us all.

#and i know that i am preaching halfway to the choir and halfway to deaf ears. #you either already care or you don't. #this either affects you a lot or not at all. #you'll either walk out or you'll clock back in and get back to it. #fuck though man. something has to give or it's going to snap. you know? #and frankly i just don't want to play here right now. it sucks a lot. #and it sounds like it's going to start sucking a whole lot more very quickly. #i hope the hellsite explodes. i hope the hammers go everywhere. #have a good night and all. #see you tomorrow or whatever.

[aaronieros]

fuck it. short tumblr fic because there's no way i finish this during The Laddening. this is the madatobi tsukuyomi idea i have been ruminating on. warning for implied/referenced past necrophilia and questionable consent due to genjustu hatesex but this is just a conceptual preamble and not actual smut anyway. cannot stress enough that they do not fuck in this it's just that they're about to

It's a mistake, looking up at Madara from the ground. Reanimated, his body is immortal, and the different pattern of Madara's eye doesn't set off Tobirama's instinct to avoid the Sharingan. That may be why he lets his guard down, why he looks up from where he's pinned to lock eyes with Madara one last time.

That, or it's an old habit resurfacing. As soon as his eyes graze across Madara's, there's a sudden freedom to his body, and the noise of the ongoing war has been quieted. Madara hasn't bothered to change the scenery otherwise, but Tobirama knows where he is.

He stands, waits for Madara to state his purpose, because he surely can't have brought Tobirama here for the same reason he always used to? Not now, not while the whole fucking world is ending at his hands?

"I know what you did to my body," Madara casually tells him as he approaches.

Tobirama has to admit he never thought he'd be confronted for that, particularly by Madara himself. How, exactly, does he even know?

"You just couldn't resist letting your hands wander, linger, once you could finally touch me for real. I was only a little put off when I found out. There was something triumphant in the implicit confession that you would have instigated after all, if not for your pride."

"If not for who you are," Tobirama corrects. "Dead, you were quite agreeable. No mood swings, no Sharingan. No danger."

"Please. As if the Sharingan didn't singlehandedly allow our secret little trysts. As if the danger didn't turn you on."

There's little point in lying to Madara within his Tsukuyomi. For all that he's done, he has managed to keep his initial word that whatever occurs in this world remains confined to it, never to be mentioned in the real world.

"If it didn't, I would have killed you for trying, that first time," Tobirama tells him.

"As if it's a given that you would be able to. As if the only thing keeping me alive was your mercy."

It was the opposite, he knows. From the first time Madara caught him in Tsukuyomi, claiming he only wanted to have a private discussion-- one that spiraled and spiraled and spiraled until Madara was touching him and Tobirama couldn't think anymore-- his life should have been forfeit.

A snap of Madara's fingers sees Tobirama's armor removed, but he likes slipping his hands under Tobirama's clothes too much to bare him completely. Tobirama never understood it. He never understood why Madara even started this, nor why he kept coming back for more. The simple triumph of leaving Tobirama a sweaty mess, impossibly hard and unsatisfied within those few mere seconds that pass in the real world?

He has no decency, this man. Madara once blinked Tobirama into Tsukuyomi out in public, choosing to represent the real world, bystanders and all, within the dream world. He had them all witness, had them all react, as he fucked Tobirama in front of the whole village, and all Tobirama could do was try in vain to hide how much he enjoyed that extra effect, lest he encourage Madara to try something so obscene for real next time.

But why even do this? He knows Madara holds no fondness for him, knows he alone bears the majority of Madara's hatred. It could be a release of frustration, but it isn't even real. It's essentially just a shared fantasy, one Tobirama feels all too intimately.

"We have eight hours in this world," Madara pivots, ready to begin. "I'll be using all of them to the fullest."

It's definitely some form of psychological torture. It's about humiliation, domination. It's the fact that he got Tobirama to agree to this so many damn times. Madara must take so much pleasure in watching Tobirama submit to the power of his eyes.

"I think I'll make you come a hundred times," Madara muses with a brush of his hand down Tobirama's abdomen, but the claim gives Tobirama pause even as he instinctually shivers.

"In eight hours?" he questions, gears turning in the wrong direction entirely for this predicament.

"Don't criticize my math at a time like this," Madara scolds him.

"Not only would that be terribly unpleasant, but you won't manage it."

Madara's eyes narrow, taking Tobirama's logic as a challenge.

"Have you forgotten that I make the rules in this world?" he asks, and then his hand slides up Tobirama's shirt, splaying on his abs. His skin is oversensitized, Madara's touch hot and electric. If it managed to feel like this the whole time...

Well, it's the last time they'll ever do this. Tobirama could indulge, since he's already here.

(He's thought the same thing a dozen times in the past.)

#madatobi #it's a little spicy. just a little #i would rate it M not E #ficlet tag

[yourfavoritebookclub]

WINGLEADER: A Xaden Riorson POV Fanfiction

CHAPTER 5

At this point, I’m completely exhausted, and the small writing surface attached to my desk looks exceedingly comfortable right now.

“Welcome to your first Battle Brief,” Professor Devera says, turning slowly to examine the entire room.

“In the past, riders have seldom been called into service before graduation, and if they were, they were always third-years who’d spent time shadowing forward wings,”

I can feel Garrick begin to shake with suppressed laughter in the seat next to me.

I reach out with my leg and kick his foot, which only makes him shake harder.

Fighting down the smile that’s trying to make its way to my lips, I remember our own shadowing last year. It was rare that second-year riders got to go, and we single handedly assured they never would again.

We aren’t typically trouble makers, and it wasn’t really our intent to do anything stupid, it just sort of…happened.

It was a near disaster, and ended with a two hour scolding from both Panchek, and our dragons.

I suppress a jolt of surprise as Sgaeyl barges into my mind, unannounced, “An absolutely shameful display from the two of you.”

“Oh? I don't recall you or Cliadh doing anything to stop it.”

“There is little we could do to prevent you both jumping from our backs in order to,” Sgaeyl pauses, “do what, I’m not sure.” she finishes irritably.

“I didn’t–” I start before she snaps, “Pay attention my little wingleader”

My eyes flick up, and from Garrick’s suddenly still posture, I can tell Cliadh has probably said something to the same effect.

It’s so quiet I can hear each of Professor Markham’s footfalls as he makes his way to the center of the room.

Professor Devera leans in to say something to the scribe, and my shadows are already there, pooling from the gaps in between seats.

“Ms. Sorrengail is present today, to the left of the podium, third row.”

So, right in front of me somewhere.

I shouldn’t care so much, but I do.

I scan the room, spotting her quickly. Her hair is in a long plait down her back and I again feel the urge to yank her by the end of it just to prove a point.

She’s already so weak in so many areas, why give anyone an advantage while sparring?

“First topic of the day,” Professor Devera says, highlighting Braevick on the map.

Fuck.

Garrick must be thinking the same thing because I can hear his breath catch.

Professor Devera continues, “The Eastern Wing experienced an attack last night near the village of Chakir by a drift of Braevi gryphons and riders.”

Not quite, but sure, that’s what happened. I wasn’t expecting the situation last night to go the way that it did.

It was supposed to be a regular supply drop, a small group, a quick in-and-out job. The fliers had been too far from our regular drop off in Athebyne, making Braevick Province the closest spot. Unfortunately for us, the fliers caught wind of Venin in the area. Even more unfortunate, they didn’t have time to warn us before we arrived.

Our one and only ally in the Eastern Wing was able to get word from us about what was happening, but Chakir still lost thirty-seven innocent people, and the Wing lost two riders.

And now it looks as though the higher ups have twisted the story, scrubbing the Venin from the brief altogether.

Professor Devera continues, “Naturally some information is redacted for security purposes, but what we can tell you is that the wards faltered along the top of the Esben Mountain. Allowing the drift not only to enter Navarrian territory but for their riders to channel and wield sometime around midnight.”

Well that part is true at least.

They were wielding magic, but the reasons were far from sinister.

“Thirty-seven civilians were killed in the attack in the hour before a squad from the Eastern Wing could arrive, but the riders and dragons managed to repel the drift. Based on that information, what questions would you ask? I only want answers from first-years to start.”

My eyes skate past the rest of the class to land on the back of Violet's shimmering silver head.

It’s silent for a handful of seconds before Professor Devera starts speaking again, no doubt attempting to rouse the first years into answering.

My gaze still on Violet, the class starts their string of obvious questions that you’d ask in a Battle Brief setting.

“Is this the first time the wards have faltered?”

Professor Devera says one word, “No.”

More follow up questions.

“How many casualties did the wing suffer?”

The usual bickering.

Violet leans in and whispers to her friend Rihannon.

Rhiannon sits up and asks, “What altitude is the village at?”

If it were anyone else, I’d assume they were playing a game, making a fool out of their peers. I don’t think that’s Violet’s angle though.

“Markham?” Professor Devera asks the scribe.

“A little less than ten thousand feet,” he answers.

“Why?”

There’s a beat of silence before Rhiannon catches on, “Just seems a little high for a planned attack with gryphons.”

Devera has an irritated look on her face.

“It is a little high for a planned attack. Why don’t you tell me why that’s bothersome, Cadet Sorrengail?” I can see Violet squirm in her seat, and I have to suppress a smile. It’s cute seeing her so ruffled.

Nope. No. Not happening. I’ve made her hate me and fear me. There’s no reality where anything regarding Violet could happen.

“And maybe you’d like to ask your own questions from here on out,” she continues.

My eyebrows raise, wondering how she’ll respond, as the class collectively turns to look straight at her.

“Gryphons aren’t as strong at that altitude, and neither is their ability to channel,” She says.“It’s an illogical place for them to attack unless they knew the wards would fall, especially since the village looks to be about what?” She pauses briefly. I can practically hear the gears turning, “An hour's flight from the nearest outpost.” She turns to the map, “That is Chakir right there isn’t it?”

As if she needed the map at all.

I don’t want to think about the feeling that’s made its way from my stomach up into my throat listening to her address Professor Devera with so much confidence.

And is that a little bit of smugness I hear in her voice?

She’s smart and she knows it.

I swallow loudly and Garrick looks over at me with a bemused expression on his face.

“I believe you humans call them butterflies.”

I swear she does this on purpose.

“Do you enjoy taunting me Sgaeyl?”

She chuffs but doesn’t bother to answer.

If I’ve got butterflies, not only is that horrifying, it’s absolutely unacceptable.

What is this woman doing to me?

There’s another round of questions from the second and third-years. All the same obvious questions that get them no closer to the root of the “attack”.

Time to remind everyone that I am much, much smarter than the rest of the people in this room.

“What was the condition of the village?” I say.

Markham, Malek help him, squints up at where I’m sitting.

“Riorson?”

“The village.” I say, keeping my tone respectful despite my annoyance at this lying game I’m playing. “Professor Devera said the damage would have been worse, but what was the actual condition? Was it burned? Destroyed? They wouldn’t demolish it if they were trying to establish a foothold, so the condition of the village matters when trying to determine a motive for the attack.”

There’s a good chance that Devera knows more about the Venin’s motives, and this is a perfect excuse to see if she’ll let something slip.

Professor Devera smiles, “The buildings they’d already gone through were burned, and the rest were being looted when the wing arrived.”

There it is.

“They were looking for something. And it wasn’t riches. That’s not a gem mining district. Which begs the question, what do we have that they want so badly?”

She has to know something. Anything about what the Venin have been decimating whole villages in search of.

Devera looks around the classroom, “Exactly. That’s the question. And that right there is why Riorson is a wingleader. You need more than strength and courage to be a good rider.”

I can see Dain’s shoulders stiffen a few rows below me.

Someone’s feeling insecure.

Professor Devera shrugs slightly, “We don’t know, just another piece in the puzzle of why our constant bids for peace are rejected by the kingdom of Poromiel.”

It takes a heroic effort not to roll my eyes. Bull. Shit.

“What were they looking for? Why that village? Were they responsible for the collapse of the ward, or was it already faltering? Tomorrow, next week, next month, there will be another attack, and maybe we’ll get another clue. Go to history if you’re looking for answers–”

I drown her out for the rest of the session.

#fanfiction #violet sorrengail #fourth wing #xaden riorson #xadenviolet #violet and xaden #tairn and sgaeyl #sgaeyl #andarna #fourth wing fanfic #shadow daddy

[holylulusworld]

New Kitten – Snippet

Summary: You are their new kitten.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Mafia!Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader, Mafia!Ari Levinson x fem!Reader, Mafia!Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, polyamory, soft mobsters, fluff, cuddling & snuggling

Badass kitten & her tamers

A/N: We have a look of the first months of their relationship.

Three years earlier, a few months after you got together with your men, …

“I don’t like it,” you whine as Andy, Ari and Ransom invited their business partners to your home. Now they reside in your dining room, making it their home.

You sit in Andy’s lap and run your fingers over this thick beard. He sighs as you hate having strangers at your home and would rather spend the evening with your men.

You scrunch up your nose at your guests’ behavior. One of them has his feet propped onto the table, another is stuffing the cookies you baked for your men into his mouth and one of them even dared to light a cigar.

“Darling, we will make things up to you,” Andy whispers in your ear. He runs his fingers over your neck, tickling your skin. “Promised.”

“You’ve got yourself a nice little distraction there, Barber. Can we have one too, or will your girl keep us all happy tonight?”

“Careful,” Ransom enters the room. He dips his head to glare at the man, “Y/N is our girl. No one touches her but us.”

“Oh, come on, Drysdale,” the man sneers now. “She fucks how many guys? Three. What’s one more? I can show her how to be a good girl.”

“She’s already a good girl,” Andy shoots back. “My good girl, and no one else’s. Do you honestly believe you can come here, asking for a deal and get our girl too?”

“I like me a good girl,” he just doesn’t stop. Not when Andy shoots him an angry look, nor when Ransom slams his fist onto the table. The man came to cause trouble, not for business.

“Do we have a problem here?” you hide your face in Andy’s neck as Ari enters the room. He looks at you in Andy’s arms, huffing as you cling to Andy once again. 

“Well, our guest tried to get his pound of flesh,” Andy jerks his head toward the man. “From our girl. He thinks we will share our lovely Y/N.”

“That so,” Ari turns toward the man, glaring down at him. “You think we will share our girl with you? Don’t you know our girl is off-limits? No one touches a hair on her head.”

“I-I didn’t want to offend you. Last time we were here, you had a girl for all of us,” the man mutters. “How can I know things changed? It’s been barely a few months.”

“I introduced our girl to you half an hour ago,” Ransom grits his teeth. “We invited you to our home. She offered food to you. And you sit there and try to get a taste of her.”

“I think you should apologize, and leave our home,” Ari concludes. He gets his gun out and presses it against the man’s temple. “I’ll count to five and then, you are better gone.”

“You better tell Hansen to send a better man next time,” Ransom adds. “We are not interested in doing business with bastards like you.”

“He will kill me,” the man gasps. “I cannot tell him so.”

“Well, this is not our problem. You came here and offended our girl. Get the fuck out of our home,” growling the words Ari taps the gun against the man’s forehead. “Go and never come back.”

“Darling, this will never happen again. Promised.” 

You giggle as Andy takes your toe in his mouth to playfully bite it. “I will not allow anyone to smoke a cigar at our home again.”

“Kitten, you know we would never share you with someone else,” Ransom purrs as he crawls onto the bed. “We will show you tonight that you only belong with us.”

“Your big bear is going to take you apart,” you shudder as Ari leans over you to kiss your neck. “Do you want us to make you feel good, pretty girl?”

“I want you…” you whine. “All of you…”

Tags in reblog.

#andy barber #ari levinson #ransom drysdale #ari levinson x reader #andy barber x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #polyamory #mafia au #mobster!ari levinson #mobster!andy barber #mobster!Ransom drysdale x fem!reader

[saints-who-never-existed]

Rereading The Terror

Chapter Forty-Eight: Goodsir

And so on to the aftermath...

Seven hours pass when Little's lead-scouting party should've been back within four, so the remaining exhausted men launch the boats and follow them.

There's mention here of Des Voeux commanding the last boat in the procession, and of him being "third in command of our overall Expedition now behind Captain Crozier and Lieutenant Little". Not sure if that's an error on Simmons' part or an implication that poor Hodgson has been removed from the chain of command entirely and remains a Lieutenant in name only?

As they make their way along the lead, there's talk of what might've befallen Little's party ("There ain't no way that Lieutenant Edward Little got himself Lost" shot back Charles Best. "He may be Stuck, but not lost.") Soon, however, when they emerge into that huge open lake, all becomes clearer... "The water was Red here." :(((

Initially, Crozier and the other senior seamen commanding the boats try to calm the men, explaining that all the gore on the ice is simply the sign of seals hunted and killed by polar bears. It doesn't take long for them to realise that that's not the case though, as they spot the bow of Little's whaleboat floating vertically in the water, the rest smashed to pieces. The whaleboat is named The Lady J. Franklin...

They continue their passage cautiously across the crimson lake, taking in more grisly sights. First, they find Mr Reid's headless corpse floating in the water, his fingers half-nibbled away by fish, then more nightmarish bloody streaks at the water's edge ("Oh, damn... You can see the bloody grooves of the man's Fingers and Nails in the Snow. The Thing must've dragged him backwards into the Water") Then, they find the remains of a body almost entirely consumed, unidentifiable because all that's left are a few ribs, torn scraps of clothing, and a fucking pelvis.

Then, they find Harry Peglar... :'''((( There's not a scratch on him - it appears that he's managed to climb out of the water and frozen to death on the ice without Tuunbaq ever touching him - yet the sight of him is as disturbing as every bit of gore that's gone before: "It was Harry Peglar lying there almost naked - his few remaining Clothes mere Underthings - Curled up on the Ice, Knee Raised almost to his Chin, Legs crossed at the Ankle as if his last energy had been spent trying to keep warm by pressing his body Tighter and Tighter, his Hands tucked under his Arms while he Hugged himself in what must have been an End in Violent Shivers." "His blue eyes were open and frozen. His flesh was also Blue and as Hard to the Touch as Carrera Marble." (That last line gets me most of all, and strikes me as an interesting reference, slightly Classical perhaps? Putting one in mind of Ancient Rome and Greece, Xenophon etc.?)

But even if there's no sign that Tuunbaq touched Peglar directly, that's not to say that it wasn't involved in his death... All around his body on the ice are Tuunbaq's gigantic footprints, circling again and again and again... "The thing had Circled Harry many times. Watching as poor Mr Peglar lay Shivering and Dying? Enjoying itself? Had Harry Peglar's last shivering Image on this Earth been of that White Monstrosity looming over him, its black, unblinking Eyes watching? Why had the thing not eaten our friend?" "The Beast was on two legs the entire time it was on the floe" was all that Captain Crozier said."

If ever they had any hope left, Goodsir feels it well and truly extinguished after the hasty funeral held for Peglar, Reid, and all the other body parts they've managed to cobble together. "All of us, I believe, were Thinking that these words were a Eulogy and Farewell for each one of us. Up until this Day...I suspect that many of us still thought that we might Live. Now we knew that the odds of that had all but Disappeared..." "The Ice will not give us up.""And the creature from the ice will not allow us to leave."

Nevertheless, they carry on. Later, Goodsir goes through the dead men's remaining personal items. Bridgens approaches him specifically requesting Peglar's comb and his famous Papers ("...just a Remembrance of the man.") which Goodsir hands over, despite his own confusion. The rest is left behind on the ice as they move on, "a sad little Cairn of Mortality".

The chapter ends with Tozer and the other four remaining Marines perishing in dramatic fashion as the ice opens up beneath them in the night and closes right behind them again with a deafening crash as they're swallowed up by "the Wine Dark Sea", another delicious Classical reference to end on. :(((

#The Terror #The Terror AMC #Observations #Random Observations #Meta #Rereading the Terror #Terror Spoilers #Harry Goodsir #Henry Peglar #John Bridgens #Edward Little #Solomon Tozer #Charles Frederick Des Voeux #Pain #Pure unadulterated pain

[bu1410]

Good morning TUMBLR. From today February 29, 2024, I have decided to publish a sort of memoir of my life in installments on TUMBLR. These are memories of travel and work experiences around the world, over a period of approximately 40 years.

The title is': ''Mr. Plant has owed me a shoe since July 5, 1971."

I hope to interest at least three or four readers.

Introduction Why this curious title, you will ask yourselves, my dear 3 or 4 readers. Well I have to think back to an evening way back in 1971, where I was one of the 20,000-odd spectators at a Led Zeppelin concert, the greatest rock group of all time. The concert, which had just begun for goodness sake, was interrupted by police charges, and we were forced to flee from the Vigorelli velodrome in Milan following the throwing of tear gas. Much has been said and written about that unfortunate evening. The fact is that despite Robert Plant's appeals for calm (Smile! Smile! Smile! he shouted into the microphone) which also sounded a little ironic, given the frequent firing of tear gas, at a certain point under the pressure of the human tide who was pushing us against the stage (we were among the lucky ones in the front rows) me and the 3 friends with whom I had come to attend the concert were forced to flee towards the velodrome track, and then to climb over the fence. In the excitement of the moment I lost one of my tennis shoes, but by then I was on the other side of the fence, and about 2 or 3 thousand people wanted to do the same thing, that is, climb over the fence! So I had to abandon the unhealthy idea of going back to the other side to retrieve the shoe. We somehow managed to escape from the velodrome, and took refuge on the floor of the FIAT 850 parked around there, in which we had come to the concert. Meanwhile the battle raged all around us. Every now and then we took a look out the windows, but the smoke from the tear gas and the burning cars didn't allow us to see much of what was happening. There were only big bangs and explosions of weapons and sirens that wouldn't stop screaming. I remember clearly seeing and hearing a lady from one of the balconies of the condominiums around the velodrami shouting at the policemen: ''Kill all those bastards…….don't leave even one alive….!! It all ended after hours, and all we had to do was sadly return home, happy to have saved our skin. The car - owned by the friend Eridano's mother - was full of dents, but the windows were intact. Later, when I finally got home, I threw the remaining shoe in the garbage.

INCIPIT But who is Bruno Sironi? It's easy to say: a child of '68 and the so-called ''Economic Boom'' - one of the many (all…) who had been made to believe that ''life will always be better'' and that ''the future will belongs''(and the best is yet to come) One who saw Italians go from the Vespa to the ''500'' and from the 500 to the 600 and then gradually the 850 and then the FIAT UNO and the Ritmo…and the butchers' boys ride in Alfa GT Junior (1,260,000 Lire in 1970) . To then understand that this was not the case and suddenly, just as it had begun, the era of continuous ''progress'' could (and did) end (and end badly). One who had to hear Comrade ''in cashmere'' Bertinotti that ''For the first time since the end of the last war there is the prospect that children will have a worse life than their fathers''. And the lawyer Agnelli declared in the famous television interview with Mixer in 1984 - to a question from the journalist Minoli on what Italy's prospects could be - he first adjusted his sypholine leg, and then replied: ''But you see Minoli… I believe that if all goes well… within a couple of decades Italy will be able to aspire to a standard of living equal to the best of the so-called Socialist countries, namely Hungary''. And that son of so-called progress, who has now grown old, has now realized that there is never an end to the worst. Because trying to make things worse - beyond Murphy's Laws - is in the nature of man (especially homo Italicus) much more than improving them. And that perhaps human beings start out with the best intentions, but then along the way, when faced with difficulties, they choose compromise, circumventing the obstacle, and almost never overcoming it. And finally, at all latitudes, in every historical period, and under any type of regime, what characterizes human beings is the instinct of dominance. And man's obsession with dominance derives from the very origin of animal DNA, and binds the destiny of every one of us. With these premises, and with a lot of suffering, I began my working adventure abroad by leaving for Arabia (Not Felix…) on 5 May 1980. Yes, the day of the anniversary of Napoleon's death, which I remembered (and I remember still …) by heart the poem dedicated to him by Alessandro Manzoni: He was….since immobile given the mortal sigh….He stood the remains oblivious to such a breath. But before that first trip, there are things and events that are worth telling, because as always, nothing is as it seems. As often happens, a friend, a certain Figini Mauro, approached me one day at the bar and said: ''You know, I have an uncle who works for a large construction company in Milan, with activities abroad'' – Really? ? I answer immediately interested - and what's his name, give me all the details, put me in contact with him, I want to try to have an interview (in short I felt inside that it could be more than one possibility) No sooner said than done, the day arrives when I am summoned to the offices of the ''Great Society''. The headquarters was located at the end of a street in the south of Milan, the continuation of Via Savona, after Viale Tibaldi. I get there first by trolleybus 90 (the Circunvallasiun) and then by walking for a few hundred meters on a dirt road. Admitted inside, I am introduced to a manager by the famous ''Uncle'' - who sings my praises: ''a good boy, good family, I guarantee'' (never seen or heard from the ''Uncle'' before that moment…) It is agreed that, before leaving for Saudi Arabia (Saudi Arabia???), I should spend a few days in an architecture studio in Milan (in Via Pantano). Architect Sala will take care of me, and possibly judge whether I am suitable to be sent to Saudi to draw up the so-called As Built (an English expression meaning ''As built'') drawings, i.e. how any project has been completed, with the changes made during construction highlighted. I thus learn (from Arch Sala) that the Big Society is building a military hospital in Dahran in the Eastern province (a military hospital which later, during the Gulf wars, proved to be very useful).

I then spent a week in the famous architecture studio, which I reached every morning with the public transport of the time: tram from Nova M. to via Farini, then the 8, which took me to via Orefici on the corner of Duomo. And then on foot along Via Mazzini, Via Larga – Via Pantano. Declared ''Suitable'' for the purpose (after having designed a hospital stretcher beater) I was then hired by Big Society and sent to Saudi with the Milan Linate – Rome – Riyadh – Dahran flights: I have a vivid memory of the seat on the left on the plane that I occupied, and of the vision of the Pre-Alps when we turned towards the South: the mountains of my youth disappeared on the horizon… No, it doesn't seem to me that ''as if it were now'', perhaps the opposite: I have the clear perception how much time has passed, 40 or more years… even the century has changed…….

[bogusboxed]

Boxtober -  Day 12: “Mission; Failed”

Day 12: -Tim Wright/Masky (More CRP VER) X GN!Reader “You kept this?” x “You’re making my head hurt.”

-I do not own "Tim Wright" and do not take credit for him.

-

Trigger Warning: Slight Angst (happy ending) & Minor Violence/Description Of Blood.

-

It was supposed to be a simple in-and-out mission. A simple task was in your hands. It should’ve been a breeze, especially with Tim going along with you. This recon mission should have taken under an hour, but instead, it took you three. You managed to fail the mission even with a proxy guiding you. You messed it up big time by missing your mark and cues. And this had been the first time you’d messed up. And you've seen proxies mad at countless others, but never at you. And you were terrified of what was to come. Your mind recalled the long past. A particular thought rose to the one that someone said that it was life or death. That you'd be dead if you didn't become something in the eyes of the operator. And that was the first day you decided to be better than the rest, to be on top of everything even if it killed you. Because, if you didn't know, you knew. You knew there was a fate worse than death awaiting your arrival.

You pushed your human capabilities to the max by doing anything you could to improve yourself. You’d spend countless hours overthinking and preparing for everything. And you succeed in every aspect except today. On the mission, you could remember sneaking in through the window. You remember firmly putting your shoes on the carpet as you thought it was just too easy. You could remember how well everything was going until she arrived. Until a little girl came out of her room, watching you lightly walk through her home. You froze at the sight. Through your training and actions, you have been ruthless toward everything and everyone. You behaved like a soldier towards the proxies and were still fumbled by a child. The way that child screamed and her innocent eyes filled with fear were unlike anything else. You traumatized that little girl, and you felt it burn you harsher than any hydroxide. You watched as she ran up the stairs as fast as she could. And you knew she could never outrun you. But, you allowed the child to escape. You allowed her to dial nine one one as you quickly got out of the house.

You could remember that Tim just stood outside, trusting you entirely to get what you two needed and get out. But you didn’t do that. You couldn’t bring yourself to kill that child, so, instead, you grabbed what you came there for. and ran when the sirens rang. You felt your heart drop. You knew what was to become of you and you wanted to avoid it. But, you knew you couldn't hide from them; that was impossible, so you ran with him. You could remember seeing the initial shock on Tim's masked face. Originally, Tim thought the house had a security system he was unaware of, which was unlikely. So, it quickly led him to the idea of letting someone go. Which wasn’t typically forgiven in your new home. So, that left you, Tim, with fewer things than expected. Worse was the locket you had lost on your escape. And now, after evading the cops and returning quickly, it left you two in his room as he shut the door behind you, ready to give you a piece of his mind.

"You know, this wasn’t training?" "This was a mission." You hear his temper rise higher and higher the more he vents at you. You could physically feel the tension. You were certain that the tension was so thick that you could slice it. "A mission that entails him watching our every move," he muttered, his mask burning into you. From his posture to his tone, you could tell he was upset. You may not have been able to see him directly, but you knew. You knew better than to let your guard down. "So, why do you choose the innocent over your team?" He towered over you in so many ways. "I—" You tried your best not to stutter, but you couldn’t get anything out. You could physically see him recoil at your tone in general disbelief.

You soon felt your hands gently shake and you could feel yourself restraining yourself. You never showed most of your emotions to others, knowing they could use them against you. And you just wanted to show them you were capable of working with them without acting like a victim. You wanted to let them know you were cut out for it, but here you were. "Reader, you’ve never failed anything I’ve ever asked of you.' 'Yet, you couldn’t pull the trigger for me. " He blamed you fully, making sure you soaked up every ounce of disappointment he had for you. "He’s not forgiving like I am. ‘This should be counted as mercy.'" he ranted even more trying to make sure you knew every detail. He dragged it like he had a knife held against your neck and blood was threatening to spill.

You could feel the apparent tears building in the corners of your eyes. "I couldn’t do it.’ ‘It’s as simple as that." You spoke up as he froze, not expecting any back talk from you. You’ve done nothing but be willing for him, and now you've changed that against every bone in your body. "And you risked everything." The words that left your mouth only seemed to add wood to the fire. He could only lightly describe what you just put on the line. But, you knew he was right. You practically gave your home address to those cops. You knew every single word that dared slip out of your mouth would never be right. You weren’t sure what to tell him. He knew, but maybe he wanted to hear it from you. But the thought shook you to your very core.

"I-'‘I couldn’t kill a child." You could feel the tears streaming down your cheeks at a rapid pace. You could feel the shaking in your entire body, reminding you of what you just did. That you didn’t even notice him stop. You didn’t notice he seemed taken aback by what you just said? It was so much of a mood change he backed away from you, thinking about what to say. It was almost as if the situation had changed entirely. "I see." His voice was seemingly calmer than moments before, He was thinking deeply, but his tension rose from his shoulders. He seemed more intrigued than upset with you.

You hugged yourself together, having either of your hands on opposite sides of your body. You tried to maintain a professional stance without showing any signs of shaking. You didn't want anything emotional to come out that you weren't ready for. But, you still couldn’t shake the innocent eyes of that poor child. In that uncomfortable, heart-pounding silence, you'd let out a quick and uneasy breath that you knew he took note of. You could see him moving toward you in the corner of your eye. You didn’t think much of it. You thought of every way this could have gone as he just wrapped his arms around you. You could feel your world come to a halt in shock at what he had just done.

You could feel your cold, firm body instantly warm up and soften up to his touch. As he slowly pulled you in, almost giving you a second to process what he was doing. He placed you on his chest as he had his hands lightly pressed against your back. He was almost trying to comfort you while still trying to be safe with himself and you.

"W-What?" You didn’t move, not pushing him or giving in. You were confused by his sudden actions. "Sparing that child was a good move.' 'He isn’t fond of killing children." He seemed to return to his normal presence on hearing what you had to say. He seemed relieved as if you had dodged yet another life-altering action. "You’re making my head hurt," you muttered into his shoulder, still surprised that you weren’t actually in trouble for having mercy. "I’m sorry for yelling at you. It’s necessary but not in this case." He made leeway for you as you just stood there weightlessly. His voice had a cooling, soothing effect on you. As you let him completely console you from everything, Though you were still confused about why. He revoked your punishment and even rewarded you for it. He seemed extremely tense under your touch. He was probably pushing himself out of his comfort zone for you. "Still, you need to report to me instantly why anything went wrong," he muttered, trying not to ruin the moment but still letting you know his overall opinion on what you pulled. He was displeased with the mission's failure but understood why. But, focusing on the more interesting case at hand, you felt your heart race.

You were hugging Tim right at that moment. You didn’t completely get why this was making you nervous. You didn’t get why you could feel your heart pound as he had his hands against your back. His comfort was greatly appreciated after he made you freak out for a second. Your heartache was melting away by the seconds he got more and more comfortable. He slowly pulled away from you, ensuring you wouldn’t fall from his sudden removal. He soon rummaged in his pockets for a good moment before pulling something out. It rang as he held it up by the necklace. It was the locket you’d lost in the chase. "You kept this?" I blinked at him rapidly as he sighed. "When we ran, I saw you drop it," he said as he dropped the chain into your hands as you tightly held the locket. He glanced at you. "I was planning on keeping it as another punishment, but it's not needed now," he explained to you as your clammy hands shoved it into your pocket.

"I don’t get how you can be a proxy and still be humane," you muttered under your breath, hoping he understood you two were being friendly now. "Ask yourself." He pushed it away as he was fidgeting with something in his pocket. It had to be either his cigarettes or his pills. "Thank you for this," you said, motioning to the necklace, ignoring everything that had happened just moments before. He mumbled something that could have been guessed as an "ahuh" as he looked at you suddenly as if he was about to say something. He seemed nervous about whatever it was. You could hear him open his mouth until you heard three unmissable knocks. "Tim, Reader, we have another mission.' 'That we need both of you on stat," Brian mentioned as his knocking stopped. Both of you glanced at each other, almost knowing what the other was thinking. Here we go again.

-

#fictober22 #day12 #flufftober2022 #creepypasta #tim wright x reader #tim wright x you #tim wright x y/n #masky x reader #masky x you #masky x y/n #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x y/n