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b4mpyre-k1zz3s · 4 months

Note

Hey! Could I request a fic with Bam where the reader is a female skater?

Maggot’s Kiss

Being apart of Tony Hawk’s skate team sounded like a dream to Y/N- that is, until she met Bam, and an innocent thing turns into something darker.

Bam Margera X Fem!Reader

(Fluff, Angst)

2.6k Words

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, jealousy, crude language, very suggestive content, bullying, hate makeouts, nudity, fake dating, flirting, accidental vouyerisim, injury, blood

An: Thank you so much for your request and happy new year!! I decided to combine my love of darker fics and slow burn to create this for your reading pleasure ;) I just love writing banter like what Bam and Y/N have in this fic hehe XD This fic was also inspired by this amazing fic (one of my favorite Jackass fics on this website) by @asskickedbygirl, so please go check her out!! According to one of my beta readers this is one of the steamiest things I have ever written, and that was just based off of the first three paragraphs, so do with that what you will! Anyways, thank you for sending in requests and please keep sending more!! I love to read them and I enjoy writing them even more :)

You hated him. His edgy, crazy, rich boy schtick made you almost embarrassed to be touring with him and the rest of Tony’s team, knowing that no matter what, the spotlight was always on him. It was never Team Adio or Team Element- it was Bam and Company. Every time you saw pre-teens fighting tooth and nail over who got his autograph first or when chicks threw themselves at his feet for a chance to be graced by the presence of his less than average dick (you see a lot being on the same tour bus for two months), you gagged a little. You were seemingly the only person in America that didn’t fall for Bam Margera’s bullshit. Maybe hate was an understatement.

It was the evening before some exhibition you were supposed to do in the parking lot of a mall that you were pondering all of this, seething quietly in the tiny tour bus bunk bed you were trying to get some shut eye in. Trying being the key word, seeing as you weren't very successful at it. Sighing, you wriggled out of your middle row bunk, carefully stepping down and stretching, the claustrophobic sleeping conditions doing nothing for your already not great posture. There was a row of leather seats in the back of the bus you and the guys would usually sit around and play cards in or watch TV when you were on the road that you made your way back to, feeling around in the pitch darkness as a strange chill struck you. The only thing you could see was the glowing, orange tip of a cigarette as you sat down, knowing exactly who it was.

“Close the damn window. S’freezing.” Mumbling, you crossed your legs, tucking your feet into the backs of your knees to warm yourself up. He chuckled, taking another drawl on his cigarette, the embers glowing intensely for a moment before he exhaled, “Might wanna think ‘bout wearin’ a bra ‘round here.” You could practically feel Bam’s eyes on you through the darkness. “I had no idea y’were so fascinated by my tits, Margera.” His last name came out of your mouth like it pained you to say it, acrid on your tongue. Scoffing, you cooed with faux sweetness, sliding closer to him and whispering in his ear, “I-I mean, if you really wanted, y’could give ‘em a feel…” Two can play at that game. Bam found your jab funny, laughing bitterly as he playfully shoved you away, “Oh, no way in hell am I touchin’ you.”

So after a few minutes of small talk, you went back to bed, and so did he, but that exchange didn’t leave your mind. There wasn't an atom in your body that wanted to be felt up by Bam of all people, but you were still pissed that he wrote you off that fast. You saw the girls he took to the bathroom of the tour bus every night and they had nothing on you. Then there was the matter of why he was staring at your tits in the first place. Was he checking you out? Something hot bubbled in your stomach that you were sure was hate at the thought of that. God, it was too late to be thinking like this, you thought, pushing it from your mind and burrowing deeper into your sheets as you tried to get some sleep.

You felt like shit the next day, but the show must go on, three hours of sleep or not. Thankfully, the bus stopped at a Love’s truck stop on the way there- you would be surviving on a gas station coffee and a prayer. Everyone filtered out of the bus, buying snacks and toiletries or whatever they needed. That left you, lingering by the trucker showers with Mike Valley. You split a bag of Hostess Donettes while he waited for his turn, discussing some fight he got into at the bar last night. Smiling, you licked the powdered sugar off of your fingers and joked about it being the breakfast of champions. He laughed, but just as you looked back up from the now empty bag, your eye caught something.

Perfect fucking timing. The door to the men’s swung open at just the right moment for you to see Bam in all his naked glory, thankfully only from behind. It wasn’t rare for you to see him shirtless, especially when you were skating together in the heat of touring season, but you only just now realized how muscular his back was. His tan skin had contours like a bronze sculpture, shitty black fleur de lis tattoos winding down his sides as he toweled away the last glistening remnants of his shower. Before your eyes reached his ass you tore your gaze away, gagging in mock disgust, crumpling up the empty bag and throwing it in the trash.

There was this weird look in Bam’s eye as he handed off the shower key to Tim, taking his place next to you on the beige wall as he pulled his shirt over his head, “You got a little something there.” He gestured to the side of your face and you licked off the remaining powered sugar, cracking a smile as you mumbled, “Oh, fuck off.” Bam held his hands up in mock surrender as you could hear the shower turn on in the other room, the only noise in the otherwise silent hallway, “Hey, no need t’get all defensive! I mean,“ You could feel his long, half-wet hair dangle on your forehead as he leaned in closer, his voice teasing as he reached down to do up his belt, “especially with how you were pervin’ on me in the showers. I’d say you owe me an apology.”

You turned to him, glaring at his stupid grinning face under the fluorescent lights, “First of all, it was an accident. Second of all, I can barely stand the sight of your naked ass without hurling!” He just snickered at your joke that wasn’t even all that untrue as you rolled your eyes to keep them from lingering on the heartagram splayed out on his lower stomach, “And pull your damn pants up. Hope you bust your ass out there today.” Bam shrugged, walking down the skinny hallway, “Sure. Don’t break a nail out there, sweetheart.” That just left you, watching him leave.

The next time you saw pretty boy was under the signing tent, a respite from the blazing sun and asphalt. Your seat just had to be next to Bam, all sweaty and glistening from skating yet somehow not looking as gross as some of the other guys did. MTV star magic, you guessed. You were wondering why the hell you needed to do skate exhibitions in the ass crack of summer when some nerdy looking teen girl handed you a board to sign. Sure, you weren't Tony or Bam, who each had a line of their own nearly twice the size of the rest of the team’s, but you were generally pretty popular. The girl with the glasses was all smiles, leaning in close to you like she was going to ask you something secret, “Hey, I read somewhere that you and Bam, uh- that you had a thing together. Is that really true?”

Bam, who was sitting next to you and well within earshot, scoffed, leaning over with a sneer as you scrawled silver sharpie onto the board, “I’d rather tongue a maggot than Y/N.” You scoffed as you popped the cap back on the pen, “Yeah, the only maggot here’s that thing in your pants.” It was then, as you turned back to the fan who was awkwardly standing there, watching your little lover’s quarrel go down, that you got an idea. A malicious grin spread across your lips as you handed the signed board back to her, “But if you were wondering, I am dating Tim O’Connor. Thanks for being a fan!”

God, if you could see Bam’s face. As much as it pained you to not look over at him, you didn’t, knowing it would be impossible to keep a straight face seeing him all slack jawed. The best part of it was you weren’t dating him- well, not yet, but you didn’t even need to for what you had in mind. Hell, knowing Tim, he’d be game for fucking with Bam any day of the week, even if it mean having to hug and kiss and pretend flirt from time to time. This was the ultimate way to get back at Bam for fucking with you for so long, you thought- your ace in the hole.

You told Tim your plan and he was more than eager to get in on it. You would come up with ideas on the fly whenever you knew Bam was watching, whether it was having you wear one of his shirts on the bus or you giggling when he messed up your hair while you stopped for food on the road, or even the night you shared a bunk- one of your favorites, especially with how pissy Bam looked as he angrily slid the curtain closed on his bed when he saw the two of you. Basically anything you would see in a cheesy romance movie, you did.

But if you thought Bam was a childish asshole before, you had no idea how much worse he could get. No matter where you were, he always seemed to have his eyes on you, glaring under heavy lids across the room. Even though he was still performing well, off the ramps he was this little ball of rage, quietly observing with raised hackles. Gone were the pranks with the team and the playful banter between the two of you. Bam was a tyrant before and even more so now, only a little quieter. He avoided you like the plague, so the only form of communication between the two of you was the sporadic spitting of insults at one another just short of an argument- he’d say something about your appearance, you’d jab at some trick he messed up, and then he’d tell you to fuck off.

His behavior became so uncharacteristic that, at one point, Tony, who was often the only voice of reason, tried to take him to an urgent care because he was obviously sick. Yeah, maybe that’d be a good idea, you thought, a medical professional would probably know how to get that stick out of his ass. No, not in the slightest did you care that you hurt Bammy Boy’s precious little feelings. He was a jerk to everybody, you thought, so he deserved it. It was only after a few weeks of this charade that you started to wonder why the hell he was being such a baby about all this. Bam just seemed to radiate jealousy, especially towards Tim, but there was no way that was the case. It sounded like something straight out of third grade- that boys are mean to girls they like. But, knowing Bam, you couldn’t write that off immediately.

All this tension kept building for a while until it reached a fever pitch. The team had an off day so you all decided to stop by a skate park late in the day to kick back and chill for a few hours before you needed to get back on the road again. The chance to bust out a few tricks without the judging eyes of thousands was a breath of fresh air and everyone was all excited as they filtered out of the bus onto the concrete- that is, everyone except Bam. The little prince of darkness shot you a scowl before he ran off to the bowl with the rest of the guys while you ran off on your own. You were on the mini ramp, enjoying some rare alone time while doing a few simple tricks and thinking about how you could probably run to the Wendy’s across the street to get dinner- one of those baked potatoes would really hit the spot. It was in the midst of that thoughtful silence when you were poised on the coping in a nose stall that the clatter of a board slamming against the ground behind you hit your ears.

You were startled and, turning towards the sound, you felt the ground slip out from under you as you shifted your weight ever so slightly. The world seemed to freeze for a moment as you plummeted to the ground, landing square on the lip with a blunt packing noise, busting your cheek open. The air was knocked out of your lungs as a choked gasp escaped you, reaching up to grasp the raw skin pounded flat against your throbbing cheek bone. Your vision was a blur of orange from the setting sun as you wrenched your eyes open, tilting your head up towards the source of the shadow that looked over you.

“Nice spill.” Struggling to your feet, Bam didn’t even offer to help you, just standing there with his hands in his pockets, watching. Something red hit the concrete when you spit, rubbing off some of the hot liquid from your cheek as your gaze met his, “The fuck’s your problem?” Coughing, your voice was rough, words punctuated by heavy breath as you continued, “You’ve been all pissy for weeks, man. What’s goin’ on?” There was an edge to his voice but he still sounded calm as he reached into his pocket for his pack of Marlboro Lights, still not making eye contact, “Maybe I don’t like seein’ you and Tim eatin’ each others faces- ever thought about that?”

Snatching the cigarette from his fingers, his fingernails painted in that stupid black nail polish he always wore, you growled, “Is that it? Really?” You got all in his angry little face, close enough you could smell the shitty cologne he wore to impress chicks that always made you gag. MTV fuckin pretty boy, always looking his best. Your voice dropped low, murmuring close to his skin, “Maybe you’re just jealous’a him. That he gets to have me and you don’t.” Bam finally met your gaze, staring at you with newfound intensity as the lines between teasing and flirting blurred. He spoke through gritted teeth as he glared down at you bitterly, “Oh yeah? Yeah? You think I can’t fuckin’ have you?” You said nothing, defiant.

Time stood still, but in a second, he was on you. Bam’s hands seized you, tugging you impossibly close to him as his calloused palms traveled up and down your body possessively. It was like something snapped inside of him that was holding him back. You could feel the muscles under his clothes flex as your breath hitched, one of his hands tangling in your hair and pulling you closer. Bam kissed like a starved man, his tongue moving against yours in a lecherous mess of teeth and spit and a little blood on your part. The air swam with a mix of rage and lust as you pulled away from each other after what felt like an hour, catching your breath. Your eyelids fluttered as a weak smile spread across your kiss-sore lips. Whispering under your breath, you leaned your forehead against his, “Holy shit…”

Glancing down at the cigarette still in your hands, you slipped it between your teeth, looking back at him, “Gotta light?”

#jackass #bam margera #jackass fanfiction #jackass fanfic #jackass x reader #fluff #angst #bam margera x reader #I absloutely adore Love’s truck stops <3 #I took a six hour trip by car once and stopping at one of those was straight up magical

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terushimooo · 1 year

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BREATHER

A composition on the decomposition of mind, body, and soul

vampire!Jean x human!reader

t/w: lots of blood, open sores, vague allusion to self-harm and domestic abuse, implied tortured and depressed reader, activation of potential trypophobia, one bug eaten, eating/drinking of blood, noncon vampire bite, implied abduction. Please let me know if I missed anything!!!!

a/n: thank you to both @iwaasfairy and @seijorhi for inviting me into your collab! I’m super excited to be back for my yearly contribution! I dedicate this piece to Rhi, my wife, and the eternal victim to my fics. I swear this is one of my most normal drabbles!! Happy supper early birthday my love!!!

And, of course, thank you to @bontenten for being my ride or die beta for life!!

w/c: 1.3k

Check out the events masterlist HERE and the corresponding art piece HERE

Stagnant, lifeless, putrid decomposition.

None are words that should be associated with someone entering their so-called “prime”.

And yet, here you are.

Every morning slowly becomes harder than the last, every day more painful.

Unseen to others, sores wrack your body, oozing and scabbing over in an almost religious fashion.

And yet, unlike religion, or maybe more like it than anyone else would care to admit, no matter how hard you pray, scrubbing and disinfecting the lifeless skin of weakened limbs, your body refuses to heal.

But that’s just the way Jean likes it.

On dark days when the clouds block out the sun, when the cool drizzle of rain thumps heavily onto his sun kissed skin, Jean can’t help but catch a glimpse of an unspoken truth.

You’re just so fragile… so weak… so…

So painfully human…

But, that’s precisely the way Jean likes you.

It’s on days like today, with goosebumps prickling your skin and teeth chattering violently from miles away, that a gnawing voice burrows its way deep into the crevices of Jean’s mind. It’s like he can’t control it, can’t stop the compulsion that has him seeking you out in your only time of freedom, the only time he lets you out of your confinement.

Even a moment without you is too long.

The strong breeze carries the smell of rain, renewal, rejuvenation, but most importantly, reward. It carries the scent of you, his dearest companion… his favourite, most precious pet.

Although your lips never truly part, never except to cry out and whimper in pathetic attempts for mercy, you call to Jean. Like a siren’s song, the soft trickle of blood from wounds beaten open by the rain’s percussion lures him in. One step at a time. One foot in front of the other. Jean pushes his way through chest-high blades of grass, wet stalks brushing up against haphazardly buttoned flannel and his best denim. An odd combination, but you weren’t there to help him dress in the morning. Clearly, Jean thinks with a scoff, a scoff soon replaced with a smirk and throaty chuckle, clearly you wanted a head start in the game he likes to call life. Or rather, your battle for it.

As Jean stares down the traces of limp foliage, grass and branches disturbed by previous passage, he can’t help but wonder just how far you’ve gotten this time. His eyes light up with his first trace of reward, with a gentle puddle of blood cradled perfectly in the cracks and crevices of the abrasive bark of a towering oak.

He knows he shouldn’t, but how can he stop? How can he stop his tongue from darting out, from finding its place upon the crimson stained wood. A soft groan slips past his lips as Jean laps at your taste, as he furiously seeks out every last drop of your blood.

He can’t stand to waste it. Can’t stand for anyone else to have it, not even the earth or the trees that in turn, give you life, give you something crucial—breath and oxygen.

Pure ecstasy flashes behind Jean’s eyes with every drop. It’s almost enough to have him forget about the scrambling bugs and maggots, the beatles and bark shavings he crunches between his teeth in an attempt not to waste your treasure.

If he had a working heart, it would beat only for you. If he had a soul, it would be tied only to you. And if he had any sense of compassion, of a true fondness and love for you and your wellbeing, he would let you die.

But Jean doesn’t have a heart. He doesn’t have a soul. But most importantly, he doesn’t have compassion—not enough to grant you mercy.

His love is selfish. His love is unstable. And his love is everlasting. That much is made clear by the quickly hardening shaft of his cock, stimulated only by the quickly passing taste of your blood.

Jean loves the chase, the little game you two play.

It’s one you’re not even aware of.

Taking off through the woods, bare feet rubbed raw against the rough floors of the forest, nightgown torn to tatters, sores opened and oozing down your trembling body, rain chilling you down to your bones—this is no game. To you, this is real. This is a battle for life, at least, what you have left of it…

But this time, this time you’ve gone too far. This time, there's no coming back.

In his mind, Jean would find you thrashing through the thicket, eyes wide and heart racing, blood leaking steadily from unsealed and revisited wounds.

In his mind, you’d scream. Cry out. Beg on your hands and knees for mercy, for his love.

But never could he imagine the scene in front of him.

When he finds you, when he sees your wounds ripped open, and wrists torn ragged by a branch, he can only imagine you used to try and find freedom.

When he finds you, Jean’s not mad. He thinks nothing but how childish you are. How foolish you are for trying this. How much you’re going to regret this.

It’s clear now that he can’t trust you, that he can’t leave you alone for even a second. Not while you’re like this. Not while you’re still human.

Heavy lidded eyes begging to rest for eternity shoot open as you're made aware of Jean’s presence. He calls to you with soft coddling and reassurance, but all you hear is nails against slate, an agitating and grating sensation and you’re wrought from your slumber.

“P-please,” you beg, voice soft and inaudible to even your own ears. “Don’t.”

But Jean doesn’t negotiate with incoherency. Even if he claims to care, your pleas fall on entire deaf ears. Instead of evoking a sense of pity, they just serve to drive his cause, to stake his claim.

It’s all a flurry of limbs.

Wild, desperate, bleeding hands. Bare feet swinging in abandon. Mouth left open in mid scream. Fists covered in open wounds and split knuckles claw desperately at their captors embrace. Sharpened fangs piece through bleeding gums, only seconds before they find their way into the crook of your neck.

For Jean, it’s euphoria. It’s everything he’s always wanted, maybe even more. But for you, for the poor, weak, and battered body coddled tightly in your captors embrace, for you its torture.

Fire runs through your veins as your eyes roll back into your skull. Gritted teeth are cracked open in an attempt to rob Jean of what little pleasure you can, to rob him the pleasure of seeing your pain.

But inevitably, all your actions were in vain.

As you lay shaking on his chest, gentle convulsions wracking your already worn out limbs, blood continuing to flow freely from the numerous sores and wounds littering your paleing form, Jean can't help but smile in content.

This day, this hour, this moment, this second, on February fourteenth… It’s at times like this where he thanks the gods, the gods who cursed him to an eternal life of indentured sorrow and suffering.

The only sounds coming from your cracked lips are gargled groans of pain and distress. Tears stream readily down your face as Jean sucks from his own wrist to provide to you his one gift—the gift of life. Eternal life.

Forever by his side.

Cold, dead lips press against yours in anything but reverence. It’s hard, aggressive, and mixed with passion. But to Jean, to Jean it’s perfect. In fact, he could almost swear that your pain is really just pleasure. Your lips aren’t moving out of spite, but finally requited love.

As Jean continues to watch the seconds pass, to watch the life slowly drain from your quivering, whimpering lips, Jean thinks to himself that this must be the first time in the hundreds, maybe thousands of years in his pathetic existence that finally, with you turned and bound to him for all of eternity, finally, Jean can take a breather.

#yandere aot #aot x reader #jean x reader #yandere aot x reader #yandere jean #vampire jean #lee writes #tw lees infection

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cero-sleep · 6 months

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God's Favorite AU - La Vida x Reader (Angst)

Cw: Body horror, swarms of bugs, gore, major character death

Thanks to @chaoticxrobotic and @eyenaku for beta reading!

Your eyes fluttered open, a smile creeping up on your lips as you stood up with a small jump.

White covered every inch of your surroundings.

Perfect.

"My love?" You called cheerfully, announcing your presence. Not that it was needed.

You felt a hand gently lay on your hair as you leaned into the touch.

"Mi pequeña tórtola, back so soon?"

A chill ran through your body. You loved when he gave you little nicknames.

"I wanted to see you!"

She hummed thoughtfully. "You have been coming here a lot lately. I'm starting to think you like death more than life."

"Wh- What-" You stuttered, turning around to face her. "Of course not!"

Laughter, delicate and cheerful, the kind that made your cheeks turn vermilion.

He was beautiful…

You couldn't help but notice her soft smile, the grace in her movements, the bright orange flowers that decorated his whole being and the pretty jade eye that… was currently staring at you in question.

Had she asked something?

You were so lost in thought that you didn't realize he had probably been talking.

So you just smiled sheepishly at her.

A sigh. "Your tasks?"

"Oh!" You exclaimed.

"This just proves what I was saying, cariño… you have been way too distracted lately. You barely have collected any souls."

"I was just getting ready to do it, I swear! But I… I wanted to see you first…"

You didn't notice how his eye narrowed slightly.

A second of silence passed before…

"I'm actually glad you came."

"You are?" You asked, hopeful.

"Yes." He said thoughtfully. "I think it's time I replaced you."

And then everything crumbled.

"Wh- What…?" You asked confused, hurt.

"You see, darling, it was entertaining having you around for a while, but you have been nothing but a loyal little puppet and that gets boring."

"I… I thought that's what you wanted… Am I not your 'pequeña marioneta'?"

"Not anymore, cariño." She said with finality.

"Wait!" You shouted. "Just... Just tell me how to fix it- fix us. Please just... Just tell me." There had to be a way. You weren't ready to die.

"Us?" The god laughed. "There is no us."

"What…? But I thought-" You said, tears starting to form in your eyes.

"You only thought what I wanted you to think." She explained coldly. "But I don't blame you for that, mi azulejo. You are just a silly human after all."

"Then… The kills?" You started disbelieving. "Was I… Actually doing any good?"

"Of course you were."

You sighed in relief, but she continued.

"It was very entertaining to watch an innocent soul like yourself get down to that level."

And your heart sank.

"Now… It's time for you to be forgotten."

"No, please!" You shouted as she snapped his fingers. Closing your eyes as you expected the worst.

And… Nothing happened?

But then you felt something damp oozing from your nose and mouth.

You wiped at it with your hand but what you saw was a dark liquid unlike blood.

You noticed then that your hands were hurting, eyes widening in realization as you saw how the skin on your fingers started to blacken.

Flies started to swarm you as you could only stare in shock.

"Wait- la Vida, please!" You exclaimed as your legs gave out, forcing you on your knees, but he only watched mercilessly as you pleaded. "I- I can do better, please!"

Your skin started to melt off in parts in what was the worst pain you had ever experienced, you screamed as muscle started to be exposed. Liquid tissue running from where your skin had melted.

You touched your face and felt bone in place of skin in some parts, eyes forced wide open at the lack of eyelids.

Maggots hatched and crawled all over your wounds, you tried to remove them from your body, picking at the tissue in a panic, but they just kept coming.

You felt the sting of tears, but that was nothing compared to the horrific pain you were experiencing right now.

You finally fell to the ground with a sick squelch, melting hands tugging at the god's dress.

He took a step back, taking it out of your grasp. "This has been fun, but it's time for you to meet with la Muerte."

With that, she snapped his fingers again, as you caught in bright green flames that consumed your entire body, leaving only white in your place.

She hummed. "I think it's time to look for a new plaything…"

#god's favorite au #my writing

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sneakyfordethklok · 4 months

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Intro and Request Rules/Masterlist

Hey y'all! My name is Maggot or Michael (he/they/it). I am a huge fan of Metalocalypse, and also love writing and drawing. This secondary blog was specifically for me to post my writings about Dethklok.

MINORS DNI

Rules

I write headcanons, one-shots, and other such writings with the members of Dethklok. I will do:

Inter-romance between members of Dethklok

Dethklok x Reader

Charles Offdensen x Reader

If you would like Magnus, Knubbler, Rockzo, or other side characters I may not accept the request, depending on what you are asking for. However, I may be able to arrange it if I am not busy with other requests.

Unless otherwise specified, I will use gender neutral language, with an AFAB body architype. Gender identity, race, creed, sexuality, disability or lack thereof, body type, and brief descriptions of the Reader are all open for tweaking if so requested! :)

Examples of Accepted Scenarios and Asks:

Fluff

Angst

Major character death

Major injury/hospitalization

Unrequited love (within reason)

Smut (more on this later)

Pregnancy / Childcare

Poly romantic situations

Comfort for sickness, mental health, trauma, etc.

Examples of What I Will NOT Accept:

Any smut requests submitted by a minor (I WILL check)

Direct non-consensual smut. Dub-con and non-con specifically within the confines of consensual BDSM/Kink are acceptable, but are required to include aftercare.

Any Kinks including feet, scat, watersports, excessive gore, sounding, feeding, vore, inflation are all strictly disallowed. I will not make concessions on this.

Any asks depicting active abuse will not be allowed. Spousal, sexual, verbal, child, etc. Asks requesting comfort for past trauma borne from abuse are perfectly acceptable.

Any asks requesting age-play, age-regression, ABDL, etc will be denied and result in a blocking. No exceptions.

Incest, bestiality, and other illegal grossness is not allowed. Fuckin' obviously.

Some Accepted Kinks for Smut Requests:

BDSM/Kink in just about every form, except age-play (see above)

Pet-play, Master/sub, impact-play, bondage/shibari, doll-play, primal-play, training/discipline

Alpha/Beta/Omega (with exceptions)

Breeding / fixation on semen

Body worship

Oral fixation

Exhibitionism / humiliation

Voyeurism (CONSENSUAL)

Tentacles (If you can think of how to make this work with an au or something.. fucking good for you, do it). Also includes monster fucking, oviposition, etc.

Erotic asphyxiation (Choking)

Edging / denial

Roleplay

Wax-play

Happy requesting~!

William Murderface Headcanons

#metalocalypse #dethklok #masterlist #blog rules #ask blog #ask #send asks #answered #request #reqs open #requests open #taking requests #metal #adult swim

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ghoulishjester · 1 year

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"Frankenstein's Monster"

Song Fic - POINT OF NO RETURN - Lana Lubany Pairing: Platonic! Peony Vectrum (OC) x Thadeus Becile Summary: Peony, Thadeus' close friend, died due to unforeseen circumstances. He couldn't stand that a woman he cared for had been murdered at a young age, and a mother no less, so he uses Peony as the beta experiment to bring back another woman he cared for, Delilah. Genre: Angst Word Count: 3,240 Warnings: Resurrection, talks of death, arguments, descriptions of corpses, sad mother stuff, crying, and iggy being slightly traumatized along with peony, bug mentions

Goosebumps had decorated the middle-aged man's skin like a popcorn ceiling. He was staring at his own creation before him. It looked like an abstract masterpiece with all of the machinery he had crafted with his bare hands. "Finally, it is finally finished..." He sounded exhausted, physically and emotionally within his own vessel. He looked over to the darker part of the room, eyeing the silhouette that lay still on the floor like a mournful statue. It was Peony's cadaver.

She had her hands crossed over her form. The very same form that was dressed in a vibrant yellow dress of her time. A crinolette type of dress that was mixed with a bustle. Her hair was symmetrical, her deep brown hair with the bangs long and twisted and tucked behind the ears, and the rest of her hair is parted and ordained with swirls and braids. Her once lively peach-colored skin had been dulled to that of a dusted bone. Her makeup is now almost gone and stained on her epidermis. A silent sob wanted to rack his body, but he pushed that feeling down. He had to focus, he had to do this! For her, for Delilah. He knew he was being selfish but, wouldn't his friend want to aid him in bringing someone he loved back to life?? Wouldn't Peony understand how dire this situation was??? Isn't that what friends were for?? He walked over to her, thankful that her eyes were closed at this time. He couldn't have bared to do this if she was staring at him with those dark eyes of hers, once they were filled with the joys of life, now possibly filled with maggots, eating their way around her skull. He lifted her up gingerly, wincing at how stiff she was, feeling as if he was carrying clay to an altar as if they were acting in parts. She was Galatea and he was Pygmalian. Except there was no love here, just the sense of greed and remorse hanging in the air and swirling in a sickly tornado of emotions. A metal thud rang in the air, as her body hit the metal table, making him cringe with worry. It didn't sound good, but it had been nothing. He went behind the placeholder and flipped some switches, causing a high-pitched humming to commence. Next was the most dangerous part of the process, dealing with the green matter. This sweet rock candy-like mineral glowed within its container. This would be the key to her revival. He placed on thick leather gloves and grasped the rock, his hands forming a prayer stance as he shut his eyes, quietly slipping silent prayers from his mind to his mouth, praying that this would work. He placed it in a cylinder metal container, the stone thumping gently against the floor of the tube before being closed off from the outside. His feet retraced back to the switches. His finger was idle around the final switch that would start this process. Wincing and his body movements placed him back away from the lever, before finally pulling it down. An orchestra of blaring noises erupted within this space, and the giant metal chandelier from above the table struck down lightning against the young woman's carcass. The bolts of electricity danced along the nerves that laid dormant in her body. Something was happening. Her once stiff hands soon became soft and even slid down to her sides. Her plain brows now adorning a worried expression. "I-It's working!" He exclaimed, watching as her body was seeming to fill with some sort of life! His hope-filled orbs were soon replaced with a look of confusion and fear. The more the lightning bore down on her, the more she changed. Her skin slowly turning into a shamrock green, a dark ink like substance oozed out from under her eyelids, and creaky groans left her mouth. No no no! This is not how it was supposed to go! Thadeus tried pulling up the lever again, but it wouldn't budge! He tried and tried again but halted, even jumped slightly when screams erupted from the area where she lay. He glanced back over and his brows stitched together as he saw her eyes fly open. The sclera of her eyes now bore an onyx color, and the iris of her eye

was now a bright neon green that seemed to glow from how vibrant they were against the darker color palette she now bore.

With one final push, he was able to finally throw up the lever, stopping this entire process. The only audible noises that were now heard were the power off of the machine, slight sizzling from possible fried hair, and the moans she let out. Her moans were filled to the brim with exhaustion, and topped with pain.

Soon, this failure of a phoenix tried sitting up, failing, and opting to just lay there. "Where..." She tried to ask something but trailed off as her eyes struggled to adjust to the room. Thadeus walked over to her, grasping her hand in his, his thumb gently grazing over the unnatural color of her knuckles. "You're in my lab, Peony, you're safe-"

"Thadeus...? Mm, I thought you were in Africa...?" He paused, the cogs in his brain spinning around this question. Was that the last memory she had? Was the last memory not her being murdered by a mystery man? He brushed aside his inner thoughts and focused on her.

"No, I-I came back- How do you feel??" He couldn't string his words together correctly, just stumbling over his own speech due to the abundance of tangled-up nerves that now took vacancy within himself. "I'm hurtin'....my body hurts....why am I here...?" Her southern drawl came to light as she got more conscious on the hardened state of her hopefully not-permanent bed.

"You-" He pursed his lips together, trying to think of an excuse to say to his friend. "You had an accident...I came over right away-" He wrapped her arm around his shoulder, earning himself a whine from the funeral participant. "Let's get you to bed, huh? How does that sound?" He walked with her out of the room, flicking off the light with his slightly free hand. She gave a lazy nod, her head lolling to the side like a broken bobblehead. "Sleep sounds nice....I wanna shower...." She added, Thadeus gave her another nod. "Yes, I will draw you a bath- later though... you need to sleep right now, ok? You've dealt with so much while I've been gone..." He cooed, gaining another nod from her. "M'okay..." Once they arrived at the guest room, he gently placed her down, her muscles relaxing as she practically melted within the nest of blankets and cushions. "Anything else?" He asked, rubbing her arm. "No...tea... can I have some sweet tea...I want something... warm..." With the last words of her sentence, she struggled, but successfully wrapped herself up within the puffy ivory coverings. "'nd pajamas..." "Pajamas? Alright, you would have to wear mine, they might be quite bigger than you but, they have adjustable string- Well the pants do but-" She shushed him and nodded. "S'fine...I don't want to be in this dress..." He gave a curt nod and quickly exited the room. He would be making the tea himself and gathering the new set of clothing himself since he decided at that moment he knew what was best for her. He soon found himself in his kitchen, placing the kettle on the stove. He grabbed his mix of Assam tea. While making himself preoccupied with preparing her beverage, he found himself muttering to himself. "What if she rots the next day...no no, that's not how it works...but- she's green- I need to make changes...I need to-" "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

He dropped her flower-decorated fine china, the glass splayed out across the floor in a chaotic pattern of hazards. What he had just heard vibrating against his eardrums was Peony's screech. "PEONY?!" He shouted out, immediately rushing his body towards the stairs, practically launching himself upwards towards her resting area. Once he passed the threshold, he noticed she was no longer resting on the guest bed. Light, now shining out of the lavatory within the room, caught his attention. He walked in and saw the objects scattered and thrown around the place in a fit of panic from her. She was staring at herself in the mirror, looking as if she is face to face with a resident of the underworld. She might as well have been with the way her appearance radically changed. There's something in my mirror ~ And it lacks a soul ~

She kept touching her face, as if she was made from clay and that she can alter herself, her skin felt as stiff as clay anyhow, and yet, soft and cold like water washed over her. "What...what happened to me..." She paid no mind to the British man behind her. It whispers in my ear ~ "You're all alone" ~ "Peony- you're alright, okay?" He took some hesitant steps towards her, his hands reaching out. "Everything will be okay-" He flinched when she whipped around to stare at him, her undead eyes boring into him, making a shiver worm up his spine with her uncanny valley outward form. Ana maek, ana maek (I'm with you, I'm with you) ~ "Why aren't you freaking out about this?!" She shouted at him, her brows forming together to make an angry scowl. Stammering was the only way he could respond to her frustrated question. She began to sob, the black substance roaming down her cheeks and droplets fell from her chin and onto the surfaces of the sink. There's someone in my mirror, and they're not at home ~ "Well- I- the experiment does have some side effects I suppose that I didn't expect to come up-" "Experiment?" She interrupted him, her voice was as cold as ice, yet as monotone as a machine. Her eyes continued to stare into the mirror but were now locked onto him, like an eagle. Raising the stakes To fill a void ~ "Yes- well um- you see-" "Spit. It. Out." He slightly winced at the cold tone she continued to use. "You passed away while Peter and I had our ... 'disagreements'." Her once angry guise melted into that one of horror and confusion, her eyes landing down at her hands. Outstretched and in front of her, flexing her fingers before they began to tremble. Ran out of space And out of choice ~ "I'm ... dead ...?" She asked, her palms now placed down on the cool sink island. Her face pointed down, so he couldn't read her expression. "You were dead! I-I revived you! I brought you back-" "You desecrated my corpse by turning me into a monster!" She turned around and threw the bar of soap at him, it hitting his chest and forcing a grunt to come out. Now my memory’s gone So I traveled far to the point of no return ~ "I-I had to Peony- I just had to-" She walked up to him, her pointer finger repeatedly jabbing into his pudgy chest with each word she vocalized. "You had to?? You HAD to?? What made you huh?? Don't you know what REST in PEACE means?!" She yelled in his face, her inkblot tears now flying onto his clothing. I tried, I tried but nothing's caught on I believed the faces by me ~ "I- I-" She got angrier by the second. "You- You- You what huh?? Spi it out! Why did you have to bring me back?! I-" "I had to bring you back for Delilah!" He finally redirected the shouting at her, soon regretting it as he saw her evident shock. "Delilah...? I... You used me as a guinea pig...?" Her bottom lip trembled. 'Til I saw them bathing in blood In the point of no return ~ He held her close, while her body shook around with tears against him. "No- no- I ... Peony I cared about you so much I had to bring you back ... " He mumbled into her hair, swaying side to side with her. "If you cared about me ... you would have let me rest ..." She mumbled into him, her hands gripping at his vest. Aswat hilwe bidanek (Pretty voices in your ear) Min awal yom (From day 1) ~ "I... I don't know what to tell you Peony ... I really don't-" "I cannot show my face to anyone, I am a monster, I-" This time, she let out a hard cry, her grip getting tighter. "I cannot show my face to my son- my Lulu... you should have let me rest, so he can keep the image of his mother as pretty as a flower... instead of as rotten as some dangum weed!" She gently began to hit him now, but he didn't budge. Baatiki illi biddek (I'll give you what you want) Bs arbi hon (Just come close) ~

"Callum and his father moved away after your funeral- I... " He refused to call him her husband, not after the way he treated her. He sucked in a breath before continuing his thought. "He said he didn't want Callum to grow up around death-" With this news, she cried harder than earlier, slipping out of her grasp and onto the tiles below, sniffling hard. Thadeus knelt and continued to hold her sorrowful form.

I don't want it, I don't want it ~

"I've lost everything..." She mumbled, her sentence laced with years worth of aches. He let out another trembling sigh, rubbing her back in a circular motion. "Well, Peony-" "Daddy?" The man froze, that was not her voice. That young voice came from behind him. He slowly turned his head and locked eyes with his only child, Ignatius.

Min alb il mayye shuftek (I saw you through the water) And now I'm yours ~

"Ignatius- w-what are you doing up, son?" The young child just rubbed at his eyeball, his other hand grasping his elephant plush. "I heard noises, and Auntie Peony ... did she come back from heaven ...?" He yawned after speaking his turn, Thadeus frowned. "She did but- shes tired- and so are you- why don't you sleep?" Ignatius shook his head quickly. "No, I wanna see Auntie... "

Raising the stakes To fill a void ~

"Auntie isn't in the mood-" Before he could finish his sentence, Iggy ran around him to look at Peony, but her face was hidden, veiled away in shame of her appearance. "Auntie! It's me! It's Iggy! Why won't you look at me?" Thadeus huffed in his child's way. "Ignatius, listen to me-" Peony peeped an eye at him, she did want to see her nephew, she really did. They were in no way related by blood, but her and Thadeus were so close as friends that Ignatius saw her as if she was blood.

Ran out of space And out of choice ~

Ignatius dropped his beloved stuffed animal, it hitting the ground as he let out a yelp and ran out of the room. This hurt Peony badly. Tears kept pouring and pouring out like a broken dam. "I told you I am a monster!" Thadeus looked between the two rapidly before letting her go gingerly to go after his son. "Ignatius! Ignatius come back!" He went to his room and found his son hiding under his blanket, the child was clearly scared.

Now my memory’s gone So I traveled far to the point of no return ~

"That wasn't Auntie...." "Ignatius, it was Peony- she's just... sick.... in a way you will not be able to understand until you are older, okay?" He tried to plead with his child, but he wouldn't budge. He rubbed his face and sat on the bed, Iggy peeking his head out a little to look at his father. "Listen, remember how those medical books I used to have said people can look different when they're sick, like pale, or even spotted?" Ignatius nodded his head at the question. "Well, Peony is severely sick and, she is here to stay with us."

I tried, I tried but nothing's caught on I believed the faces by me ~

"She's going to live with us? But-" "She can't go back to Callum, I know she is his mother but, she is afraid of scaring him, but she knows that you're a big brave boy, and you can act fine around her. She loves you, Ignatius." Iggy took time to process this answer his parent has given him. "Do you think you can be brave? Your Auntie needs comfort and, I think you can comfort her." Ignatius gave a slow nod this time, worried.

'Til I saw them bathing in blood In the point of no return ~

Thadeus called her in, and she came quickly but was hesitant to enter. In her grasp was the stuffed animal that he dropped in the guest room bathroom. Ignatius slowly came out, but even at his young age, noticed she was more scared than he was. "T-Thank you for bringing Stumpy... " He shyly said to her, earning a sob mixed with a chuckle in a quiet tone. "Daddy told me you were sick and... I wanna help!" He walked over to her and hugged her legs, making her balance wobble a bit. "It seems you're already helping me feel better, doctor Ignatius." She joked and kneeled down, hugging him and wiping away her 'tears', not wanting to stain his light forest green pajamas. He parted from the hug and flexed his nonexistent muscles. "I'm strong! So is my healing!" Peony felt herself smile for the first time tonight before just laughing. "Yes, you are." It was an hour later, and Ignatius is now asleep in his bed after being read another story to wind down his energy, the toy in his grasp. Peony was in the resting room, the fireplace in front of her and Thadeus. They both sipped from tea, but Peony did not so much. "So, what now?" She asked him, and in return, he placed down the cup of tea he prepared earlier. "Well, I am hoping you will stay here, with us, so I can monitor you and... make sure you-" "I'm glad that you are not going to compost me." She tried to joke but it caused a sour look on his face. "I would never. I brought you back because I genuinely care about you... also even if I did compost you, Ignatius would be mad at me." "Yes, he would. I'm glad to be saying, I'll miss my Lulu but... your boy needs a mother figure." Thadeus nodded, staring up above the mantle at his late wife in the portrait of his entire family together. Ignatius was standing, and so was he. His wife was sitting down in a chair. His hands were on both of them and a stoic look on his face along with his wife, that contrasted with the goofy smile his son had plastered on. "He does indeed." He took one final sip before continuing a mindless conversation with his freshly resuscitated friend.

a/n YEAHHHH ANGST, Peony Vectrum is an oc of mine that i've had for a while who is a master of yellow matter before her untimely death. I wrote so much for her, and ever since this song came out, I just had to write for her!

#spg #steam powered giraffe #spg oc #steam powered giraffe oc #spg thadeus becile #spg ignatius becile #thadeus becile #ignatius becile #angst fic #angst fanfic #spg fanfic #spg fic #spg angst fanfic

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capricious-bastard13 · 1 year

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Obsession

AO3

Rating: Mature

Pair: Zoro/Sanji

Tags: Alternate Universe, Stalking, Obsession, Possessive Behavior, POV First Person, Possessive Sanji, Yandere Sanji, One-Sided Attraction, Short One Shot, Minor Character Death, Not Beta Read

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We became friends through Luffy. A love-hate relationship of sorts that sprouted into something magical.

I looked at you with a grimace and derision on the tip of my tongue. You would glare and growl, scowl and frown, fighting me back with every word that I spit and hack unto your face; such fire never once dying down in the face of our childish idiocy.

Now, I look at you and see the beauty that you hold. The brightness of your smile and the life in your eyes. The vibrancy of your entire being fills a room to near suffocation.

I wish to hold your hand and whisper love into your ears, I wish to touch your skin and caress it against mine. My lips to yours, my mind to yours, my heart, my everything is yours.

I don't have the courage to confess, I'm sorry, my love for you. We are family first and I respect that.

But late at night, I wonder how it would feel to have you laying beside me, calling me by my name, making love between the sheets like the sun would never rise. And that comforts me. Holds me with the arms of darkness and vivid imagination. I touch my body in a way that I know how you would touch me, with reverence yet anger, fucking instead of loving but at the end of it all, you lean down close to me and whisper I love you. Because I love you too.

I love you so much.

I watch you even as you close your eyes to sleep, I stay beside you to feel the warmth of your body, I listen to every word you say and carve it deep within my flesh, a tattoo forever in your name.

And yet.

You have the audacity to show up, standing there with a grin, cheeks aflame and ears hot, holding hands with somebody else.

How? How could you?

I thought it was just us. Me and you, against the world.

Yet you've let in some fucking whore touch you where I should be the only one allowed to do so.

You come up to me and introduce this inferior, insipid, obtuse bastard to stand by your side.

Oh, you who is so bright, so wonderful, heavenly, you don't deserve to be mingling with a quack.

And you know what I did? I smiled because the smile you wear warms my heart so, beaten into my heart, with each blink, it is you and your smile.

I stayed by the side, watching the two of you, a god blessing a maggot on rotting flesh.

I see its true colors and I decided to help you. You deserve only the best, and such cutting it would free you.

You're living together, I found out later that week, living together when I should be the only one allowed into your space, allowed to touch the ones that you hold dear.

But I remind myself, with your big heart, this is simply charity, pity for a homeless fruit fly.

But did you know?

If you let one in to your home, it will leave its dirty little traces around, leave its offspring and create more.

Like all fruit flies, you leave it be for a moment, keep a close eye on it, watch as it lands on its weak knees, distracted and occupied before you come and kill it.

A harsh slap to its body, and it falls, dripping and staining your nice floors with its viscera and uselessness. I made sure to scrub between the cracks of your wooden floorboards, down on my hands and knees, worshipping the home you cherish, made sure not a single mark was left as I left it rotting in my home instead.

You came home, your face marked so harrowingly desolate of happiness that I knew I had to do something. I knocked on your door and made you your favorites, I pressed myself close as you cried on my shoulder.

You cried, He didn't even say anything.

And I said, I'm so sorry. Because he made you cry, made you sad. How dare it hurt you, when it had no such right. But I held you and together we fell asleep on your couch, with your head pressed to my chest and my fingers through your hair.

Coming back home, I dealt with the rest of a decaying roach, a vulnerable little thing, still breathing wiggling around. There's many ways to get rid of a roach; the method that I chose was to suffocate it, have it be bereft of air as it wails, gasping for breath that it will never get. Just like that, the disgusting little roach died. Threw it into the trash where it belonged.

We continued to thrive, to laugh, to live. I looked at you and you looked back. Happy moments where it would be just the two of us, walking down the shore of a beach, a bottle of beer in your hand while I made sure you stayed on the path. We talked about plans of a future in the floor of your lovely home, shoulder to shoulder, and I knew that I was in your future just as much as you were in mine.

That shattered however. Because like last time, a flea has attached itself onto you. A disgusted, bloated flea that made my skin crawl unpleasantly.

To rid of fleas, you have to clean the home as thoroughly as you can. Don't let it stay for too long otherwise, like a fly, it will multiply.

Vacuum and gloves in hand, I proceeded to treat your home back to its original glory.

I washed your clothes, your bedsheets, your pillows. I changed your mattress and wiped down your windows. I dusted the corners, the shelves, and the cupboards.

Yet the flea wouldn't leave.

Eventually, fortunately, I found the flea's little family, its little home.

And how will you get rid of a flea, if you don't include its relatives?

You came to us, your friends, to me, your Sanji. I opened my arms and welcomed you back, held you close as you murmured how it never replied back to you. I tucked you, my preciousness, into my safety and you held me back. Tightly with your strong, calloused hands that tried its best not to tremble and told you that there are others, things out there who are just that mean, that bad, for you.

You nodded and agreed. Then you smiled at me, with your adorable dimples and straight white teeth, cheeks bunched up into the widest of smiles. I knew I could trust you.

Yes, because only I can be trusted. Only I can give to you your utmost happiness. Only I know how to make your favorite meals, serve you your favorite alcohol, wash your clothes with the correct detergent, know where your belongings are placed.

It is only me. Only I know you to your deepest core. Only I know how to laugh and cry and smile and say your name.

Only I know.

#My Writing #One Piece #ZoSan #Zoro/Sanji #One Shot

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riseofthecommonwoodpile · 2 years

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I believe in living. I believe in the spectrum of Beta days and Gamma people. I believe in sunshine. In windmills and waterfalls, tricycles and rocking chairs. And i believe that seeds grow into sprouts. And sprouts grow into trees. I believe in the magic of the hands. And in the wisdom of the eyes. I believe in rain and tears. And in the blood of infinity.

I believe in life. And i have seen the death parade march through the torso of the earth, sculpting mud bodies in its path. I have seen the destruction of the daylight, and seen bloodthirsty maggots prayed to and saluted.

I have seen the kind become the blind and the blind become the bind in one easy lesson. I have walked on cut glass. I have eaten crow and blunder bread and breathed the stench of indifference.

I have been locked by the lawless. Handcuffed by the haters. Gagged by the greedy. And, if i know any thing at all, it's that a wall is just a wall and nothing more at all. It can be broken down.

I believe in living. I believe in birth. I believe in the sweat of love and in the fire of truth.

And i believe that a lost ship, steered by tired, seasick sailors, can still be guided home to port.

"Affirmation" by Assata Shakur, excerpted from Assata: An Autobiography

#holy shit tumblr's formatting has somehow gotten even more broken #poetry

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ao3feed-tf2ships · 11 months

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Medics Don't Grow On Trees

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/48224884

by purpledotcom

It's been approximately 1 month, 23 days and 11 hours since the RED team's previous Medic has been given the slip from the unforgiving Lady of the Speakers; and everyone on the team was starting to get real antsy from the lack of news from the higher ups about a replacement coming any time soon.

Soldier personally didn't see a problem with this. Working without a Medic wasn't all that bad. They had the toymaker's dispensers, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that blood meant bad and missing limbs meant imminent death.

And yet, Engie and Spy seemed the most pressed about their Medic-less predicament, constantly pestering the Lady of the Speakers about finding new Medics.

The Lady didn't really seemed to care about their growing distress, simply replying with a dry: "Medics don't exactly grow on trees, you know?"

At first Soldier didn't really get it, but looking back, it couldn't have been more obvious. Medics don't grow on trees, because they grow underground.

Words: 1193, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Team Fortress 2

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen

Characters: Medic (Team Fortress 2), Soldier (Team Fortress 2)

Relationships: Medic & Soldier (Team Fortress 2), Everyone & Everyone, Medic (Team Fortress 2) & Everyone

Additional Tags: Medic is so silly :), Soldier is also very silly, can you tell I love friendly team dynamics, everyone is nice to each other, no beta we die like men, long ass summary- my bad, more tags coming as story goes on, Buried Alive, Maggots, Blood

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/48224884

#TF2 Medic #TF2 Soldier #Medic&Soldier #Medic&Solly #Gen Fic

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crocchompers · 3 months

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I haven't drawn this freak in forever.

I haven't drawn this cutie at all either </3

I miss my baby (Maggot Beta, not that monster, he's hot and all but he's still evil lmao) I might draw them more because they just came back to life yesterday so ya

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jenesaisqu0i · 1 year

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AFFIRMATION

I believe in living.

I believe in the spectrum of Beta days and Gamma people. I believe in sunshine. In windmills and waterfalls, tricycles and rocking chairs. And i believe that seeds grow into sprouts. And sprouts grow into trees. I believe in the magic of the hands. And in the wisdom of the eyes. I believe in rain and tears. And in the blood of infinity. I believe in life. And i have seen the death parade march through the torso of the earth, sculpting mud bodies in its path. I have seen the destruction of the daylight, and seen bloodthirsty maggots prayed to and saluted. I have seen the kind become the blind and the blind become the bind in one easy lesson. I have walked on cut glass. I have eaten crow and blunder bread and breathed the stench of indifference. I have been locked by the lawless! Handcuffed by the haters.

Gagged by the greedy. And, if i know any thing at all, it’s that a wall is just a wall and nothing more at all. It can be broken down. I believe in living. I believe in birth. I believe in the sweat of love and in the fire of truth. And i believe that a lost ship, steered by tired, seasick sailors, can still be guided home to port. Assata Shakur

0 notes

sugamamacustard · 3 years

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Paparazzi

Pairing: Alpha! Toru Oikawa x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Atsumu Miya x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Yuji Terushima x Omega! Reader

Genre: little angst, ends in fluff

Request:Allow me to be chaotic for a minute 😌 Since Oikawa, Atsumu, and Terushima have fangirls, I’d love to request Hc’s or a small drabble of them crushing on a cute new fem!student who takes no shit and throws hands at the fangirls whenever they harass her (She tries to be nice to them at first and explain that she isn’t trying to steal their idol but you could only be so kind to rabid fangirls). The only cliche thing here is Y/N doesn’t immediately crush on the guys so the fangirls dislike her for how casual and nice she is to them but I’m just tired of Y/N never standing up to them or at least needing to be defended by the idol. This Y/N is friendly and kind to others but would punch someone in the throat with a smile on her face.Let’s say Y/N is partnered with the guys on an assignment and the fangirls see them together a lot and try to intimidate Y/N by ganging up on her or embarrassing her, so Y/N just decks one of them in the face with a smile before continuing the conversation with the guy like nothing happened. The poor guys can’t decide if they’re terrified or aroused but Y/N’s like “Put these maggots in their place or I’ll put em in the hospital. Do what you will with this promise 😃”

Author’s Note: I wanna read more stuff about the fangirls but I don’t know where to find it. :( Is it Tooru or Toru?

Requests: Closed!

Buy me a coffee?

Trigger Warning: Fighting, mentions of blood.

Toru Oikawa

➵ Honestly, we all know his fangirls are rabid. They are mean and cruel, and honestly its a wonder none of them have been like...arrested.

➵ You had heard horror stories from your cousin. She was the manager of the volleyball team and explained her and her, now, alpha had to deal with one that went straight up feral.

➵ God, you sometimes wondered how no one had snapped on them yet.

➵ They were everywhere you were too! Their so called idol was in your class and they followed him everywhere.

➵ You didn’t even see what the big deal was about. His best friend was way hotter in your humble, correct, opinion.

➵ You had to shove your way through crowds for every single one of your classes. It was painful at this point.

➵ Oikawa was no help either, egging them on by constantly flirting with you.

➵ You kept your head up high though, rebutting his constant flirting with snarky and snide remarks.

➵ Honestly the perfect girl in his humble and correct opinion.

➵ Of course, he always ditched his fan girls the moment he caught whiff of your salivating scent.

➵ They weren't happy about that.

➵ They also weren't very happy when Toru left his normally late practice, purring he had a study session with you for an upcoming project.

➵ Yeah, that was the start of Armageddon.

➵"Hey!"

➵Groaning, you prepped yourself for the onslaught of useless spats that came with the onslaught of his fangirls. Plastering on an all too fake smile.

➵"Yes, hello? I sure hope you aren't talking to me like that."

➵You really said :))) Test me bitches

➵"What do you think you're doing?"

➵"Trying to pass my English class?"

➵The answer seemed to anger the beta who tried cornering you.

➵ Her arm raised and swung and with all expecting outcomes, one would expect a smack to ring out.

➵ Oikawa did at least, as he had caught the tail end of the argument coming to find you as you were late for your meet-up. And you were never late

➵ He moved to try and break the 'fight' up, only to stand shocked when he saw you, the beta's arm caught in your tight grip with the same smile on your face.

➵ "I really hope you weren't trying to hit me just now." You purred, squeezing the wrist in your grip until the beta was whining under you.

➵ When you let go you shoved her away with a grin still on your face before moving on, passing Oikawa who stood shocked.

➵"Keep those fangirls in check, Oikawa. Wouldn't want their pretty faces getting hurt." You beamed, skipping off to the library.

➵ The alpha had to take a minute in the bathroom before catching up to you :)

Yuji Terushima

➵ OKAY THIS MAN-

➵ I feel like his fangirls would try and get close to you rather than get you away from Terushima.

➵ Like they would use you to get to him.

➵ If that makes sense.

➵ Of course you knew about this, your brain is super wrinkled.

➵ They would try to befriend you to get close to the alpha that seemed to hang off of you.

➵ You were in-training to be the new co-manager and almost immediately Terushima had latched onto you like a leech.

➵ Scenting you and preening you, making sure you made it to each of your classes on time.

➵ He just liked spending time with you okay?!!

➵ Anyway, so he knew that his fangirls presented a bit of an issue, especially when he tried sifting who actually liked him, not his persona

➵Was he worried? No-

➵ At first he was a little worried, but you proved him wrong like you often did.

➵ You had been doing your manager thing, cleaning up stray balls, setting aside flats, adjusting the net height, etc... when it happened.

➵ An omega a little taller than yourself had ran into the gym, angry and snarling. She had walked right up to you, making you furrow a brow.

➵ "I am sick and tired of this! I've been nothing but nice to you," One of her fingers waggled in your face. "And it's gotten me nowhere! You are just as useless as I thought you were and I'm so fucking sick of it.

➵"I'm sorry you feel that way-"

➵ "No your fucking not, you fake ass-" Her hand raised and swung, but you caught her wrist in your tight grasp, quickly using your other hand to smack her.

➵ Yuji and the rest of the team watched in awe (And maybe arousal for a certain faux blond) as the omega collapsed on the ground, holding her cheek.

➵ "Just because you and your dumbass friends thought your plan would work does not mean it's my responsibility to ensure it does." You sneered, snarling down at her to prove your place in the pack. "And it never will be. Know your fucking place."

➵ Yuji followed you like a lost dog as you left, making sure you didn't pick another fight while the others helped the other girl.

➵ He had no choice otherwise his teammates would tease him relentlessly for his lovesick alpha

Atsumu Miya

➵ His fangirls 1v1 Oikawa's fangirls.

➵Straight up, like it would be a blood bath.

➵ But you weren't scared. You were and are a bad bitch.

➵ Probably why you had Atsumu begging for attention tbh

➵ Love bullying is his love language and you can pry this from my cold dead hands

➵ You always, without a doubt, give him a hard time (Teasingly of course) and it drives him bonkers.

➵ Like you don't take shit from anybody

➵And having you paired with him for this upcoming project was a dream come true.

➵ It was a simple project but it meant he got to spend time with you!

➵you!

➵ Of course, he feared what his fangirls would do to you but he had a feeling you'd be okay no matter what.

➵ He'd be there as much as he could, and hopefully that would deter the fangirls from trying anything.

➵Right? Flawless logic despite what Osamu says

➵ ANYWAY-

➵He thought this to be flawless until you proved him otherwise.

➵ You had began working on the project since Atsumu was running a bit late (He texted you a teacher needed to talk to him, and you understood)

➵ What you didn't understand was the horde of angry betas, omegas and alphas approaching you. About six in total.

➵ "Stay away from Atsumu." One of them, a red haired alpha, snapped, slamming a hand on the lunch room table.

➵ "Look, I already have a feeling I know where this is going, but I'm not interested. I just want to finish the project-"

➵"Likely story!" A beta from the back yelled.

➵The alpha in front of you grimaced, snapping her fingers as an omega dutifully placed a milk carton in her hand.

➵ "Seems we need a little more than words to get it through your fat head." the milk carton was opened and raised over your head.

➵ You rolled your eyes before the carton began tipping. When the first drops of cold banana milk spilled onto your head you acted.

➵ Atsumu had run in only to see you grab the wrist above your head, push it so the milk whipped back at your assailant while your other hand landed a crisp smack on the alpha's cheeks.

➵ The group, Atsumu included, stood stunned as you gathered your bag, pulling out a change of clothes and moving to go change.

➵Atsumu felt his heart stop when you placed a hand on his shoulder, a sweet grin on your face.

➵ "Keep your fangirls in check, 'Tsumu, or I'll have to do it for you." You beamed before moving to go change.

➵ He only found himself nodding absentmindedly, trying to fight the red creeping up his neck.

➵ "Respectively step on me."

➵"I can still here you, 'Tsumu."

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awesomerextyphoon · 3 years

Note

I love your writing. May I have Loki x Reader? The reader is a sweet, delicate dreamer. Loki has come to conquer the world. He saw her and wants her to become his Queen of Midgard. He kidnapped her. She pleads with him to let her go while she is tied to the bed. He caresses her hair and says she will love him (he doesn't want to use the scepter on her).

***Can I have White Reader x Loki, please? Loki just escaped from the Helicarrier. He saw the reader who is a sweet and innocent creature. Loki doesn't want her dead when he will start battle. Loki kidnaps her and locks her up to keep her safe. When he wins, Loki tells her that she will become his queen.***

Hi! I decided to combine the prompts and make the reader plus-sized. I hope you enjoy!

His Match

Pairing: Dark!Loki x Plus-Sized Female Reader

Summary: You’ve tried to live by your grandmother’s rule of being kind to others, even when the world gives you the middle finger. What if a Norse God decided reward you by becoming his Queen?

Word Count: 1,745

Rating: 18+/Mature

Warning: Kidnapping, Implied Dub/Non-Con, Angst, and some Violence

A/N: Thanks goes to the amazing @angrythingstarlight for beta reading this!

Loki was walking around New York City, scouting Stark Tower making sure the final preparations of his plan was perfect when something, or rather someone, caught his eye.

She walked out of what looked like a women’s clothing store with a forlorn smile. She was plumper than the average female Midgardian last time he frequented the realm. His eyes did not miss the enticing curves that lied beneath her clothes despite her efforts to ensconce herself into the background.

She was a vision.

Her eyes met his for the briefest of moments and it felt like time stopped. His heart quickened in his chest and a rush of blood surged to his groin.

He had to follow her. His Elskan.

“Barton, tell the others I’ll be out for a few more hours. Proceed as planned.”

–––––

He found you entering a rather destitute apartment complex. Its lights and foundation were a bit unsound and gave off a seedy ambience.

Loki grimaced at her living conditions. When he ruled Midgard, she would have only the best.

Casting a simple concealment spell, Loki entered her fairly small apartment. She began mixing ingredients together for what looked to be ‘chocolate chip cookies’. He smiled as he inhaled the sweet aroma knowingly; Asgard had only recently started consuming the sweet. She soon laid out a batch of thick, scrumptious cookies with a satisfied expression.

They reminded him of better times when he and Thor would sneak into the kitchens and swipe confections from under the baker’s nose. Loki chuckled at the memory; those were the days.

Not ten minutes after she placed the last cookie onto the cooling rack did her phone ring. It was her mother. Loki felt dread coming off his Elskan in waves.

Loki could only make out bits and pieces of the conversation, if you could call it that. Her mother constantly nagged her about her weight, life choices, and her ‘pathetic’ attempts to get over her ex-boyfriend. His heart broke as he saw tears begin to fall and the croaking of her voice as she bid the odious creature goodnight.

Several minutes after she cried herself to sleep, Loki entered his Elskan’s bedroom. He spied her diary on the nightstand and decided to read a few pages.

He was fuming within two minutes.

How dare that caustic pig sow treat his Elskan, her own daughter, in a such ghastly manner! Her ‘perfect’ sister always slighting and reminding her on how ‘she’ll never be good enough for anything’ and her father’s callous indifference to her cries for help and solace only added to his rage. Combined with the way her ex-boyfriend, the repugnant gnat, treated her (he cheated on her with someone who ‘wasn’t built like a blimp’ and ‘the only thing you thing you had going for you were your tits’) and he wanted to speed up the invasion just to watch the horror become engrained onto their faces.

And yet, she endeavored to treat everyone with kindness harkening back to your grandmother. She strived to be the one light in one’s otherwise miserable existence.

Well, she can be his light as his Elskan and Queen.

Loki took a deep, cleansing breath. He needed to stick to the plan. When he conquers Midgard, she will be their queen. She will grace the undeserving masses with her elegance and beauty and he will worship her every chance he got.

He just had to make her see it that way.

Gently, the light forest green glow of Loki's magic flowed from his hand to the crown of her head like a halo. He leaned in and kissed her cheek with a smile as he left.

He hated to leave her, but he had a realm to conquer. Though he hoped she’d enjoy the introductory gift.

––––––

You were in your grandmother’s living room; spacious yet comfy with all of her quirkiness and splendor included. It was odd since you haven’t been in her house since your parents sold after her death seven years ago. You tearfully smiled remembering all the good times you had with her, the only member of your family you gave you any true warmth or love.

Her piano was in the corner, barely aged a day with all the music sheets, pens, a light scratches you came to know and love. You took your seat and started to play the piano version of one of your favorite movie themes.

You were so engrossed in playing, you failed to notice someone materializing into your dreamscape.

“What a lovely tune! What is it called?” A smooth, honey-tinged voice broke your concentration.

You turned your head and saw what had to be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He was tall (6’ 10” / 2.08m) easily towering over any man you’ve ever met. He had smooth alabaster skin, light rose undertones with a little blue-red just under his eyes. His cheekbones were immaculate, somehow looked sharp and soft at the same time. He had thin lips with a fair plumpness to the bottom one. His slicked-back, shoulder-length Ponzu/Shadow Purple hair kissed his lean, battle-hardened physique (if the way he’s filling out his outfit was anyway to go by). All of this deliciousness was clothed in a casual Palm Green suit with a Glossy Black tie and shoes.

It took you a full minute to stop ogling him, “Wha-What did you say?”

“I apologize for disturbing you, my lady. I asked what you were playing.” His voice had hints of mirth which was odd considering his appearance. Most people in his league would give you a thinly veiled sneer of disgust, but he seemed genuinely interested.

“Um, well, it’s called Merry-Go-Round of Life from the movie Howl’s Moving Castle. It’s a favorite of mine. I used to play it all the time until…” You trailed off, not wanting to revisit how your grandmother died.

“You do not have to tell me if it brings you such displeasure.”

“Thank you, um…”

“Loki. Please, call me Loki.”

“Loki,” he inwardly moaned at the way you said his name, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Please, continue playing.”

And you did for what felt like hours, all while your sexy dream companion asked about your hopes, dreams, anything he could think of really. You in turn asked him about his life and interests; you even laughed at a story of his brother having to dress like a bride to get his hammer back.

You soon became enamored with Loki. It was refreshing to be noticed with actual interest, not ridicule or pity. He seemed to taken with you as well, if his gentle caresses and not-so-subtle lustful glances he gave you were any indication.

You were glad this was just a dream. You didn’t want your heart to break like last time.

Loki was about to lean in for a kiss when everything faded to black.

–––––

You jolted up from the mattress and screamed once you realized you weren’t in your room.

No, this room was…spectacular for lack of better word. It had high ceilings, large windows, ornate chandeliers, and magnificent balcony. Luxurious dark greens, gold, and black covered the room in splendor. Extravagant pieces of furniture dripped with precious stones metal worthy of queens or royal mistresses of old.

“What is this place?”

You tried to leave but was forced back onto the bed by a force field. You tried to take calm breaths just like your therapist taught you in order to make an escape plan.

No sooner did you calm down than the door open to reveal-

“Loki!”

Only Loki was wearing radically different clothing; looked like he walked right out of a fantasy epic. And yet, his smile was enchanting.

“What am I doing here? I need to go back home.”

He tutted in response, “That would not be wise, Elskan Mín. This world is mine now and this is safest place to be.” He was right. His brother’s team of desperate souls were no match for his cunning and Chitauri Forces. Midgard’s pathetic leaders gave up in less than an hour once their beloved ‘heroes’ were defeated, broken, and laid bare before them.

“You can’t be serious, Loki. I need to leave.”

“And go where? Like I said, this realm is mine now. That rat poison of a dwelling is no more and I have dealt with your ‘family’ as needed.” Loki smirked at the memories. It gave him extreme joy squeezing the life out of that worthless pig of mother, breaking every bone in your father’s body one by one, and leaving your ‘perfect’ sister alive with partially rotten skin. Not even the scavengers or maggots would find or want the remains of the scurvy insect of an ex-boyfriend, though he was still alive..just barely.

Well, at least until he decided on how to destroy the blight of creature.

Though he did make sure to leave two of your real friend were treated well. You needed to have someone to talk to while he was away.

You gazed into his Spearmint colored eyes in one last attempt, “Please Loki! If you love me, you’ll let me go!”

For a split second, you could’ve sworn you saw hurt in his eyes and he glided across the room. You back hit the headboard in you sad efforts to get away from him.

“Elskan Mín, I promise to always love, cherish, and worship every part of your glorious body. You will become Midgard’s queen and my goddess. No. One. Will. Ever. Demean. Or. Slight. You. Again.” he punctuated each word of the last sentence with soft, open-mouthed kisses to your face, neck, shoulders, and collarbone.

You tried to fight him, but it felt so good. His touches sent shots of lightning to your core; plus his lips and fingers were cook to the touch provided excellent contrast to the spike in heat.

You started crying realizing how pathetic this was, to have the first person to profess such feelings be a kidnapper. You were actually contemplating whether or not he was telling the truth.

Loki sensed your sorrow and kissed your tears away. “I know this might be ‘difficult’ at first, but you will love me in time.” He hoped he did not have to use the scepter.

You thought about your dream and all of the effort he was putting into this. It was frightening, but it came from a place of love.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay.

–––––––

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#loki (marvel)#loki x reader #marvel loki x reader #dark loki #loki x female reader #loki x plus-sized reader #mcu imagine #dark!loki #dark!loki x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu au #loki imagines #loki imagines angst #mcu fanfiction #his match #oge answers #tom hiddleston

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i-imade-a-thing · 2 years

Text

Amphibia The Hardest Thing Details!

I cried like 3 times this episode and a mess emotionally rn, this one of the greatest cartoon finals I've ever watch. It is such a bittersweet ending and knowing that there won't be another episode is...really hard. I really love this show and all the details and themes put in to it. Here's to one of the greatest cartoon of all time!

Core being the embodiment of not wanting to change, fearing of being irrelevant (idk y but its kinda similar to ss1 hop pop)

Toadie in the crowd is in his old uniform (animation error i guess)

When the camera is turning we can see the amphibian(s) that took care of their respective girls in background (plantars for anne, grime for sasha, olivia yunan and andrias for marcy)

Sasha's design is similar to her beta designs

Anne's boots and crown have leafs theme over it

During the Calamity fight scene, No Big Deal leitmotif is played throughout the fight

The power they use reflect who they are: Anne summoning tennis racket, ball, cats and having leaves aura when summoning stuff....Sasha summoning pom-pom and wings (like her sword) and moving like cheerleader.....Marcy summoning the DND dice, the background being the pin that she gave to andrias and the fluffy character from her fav game, and the explosion being in shape of weapons from her fav movie

Also Anne's cats missile thingy is similar to Andrias' lizard lazer thingy from the last episode

Andrias saying "Something I should've done a long time ago, standing up to you!" parallel Anne during reunion

Plantars, wartwoodians, wally's dad, the small frogs, olms, apothagary, percy and braddock, beatrix, trintorio, newtopian townies, EVERYONE IS HERE!

"you're my everything, you've change my life" "and you've change mine" ;-;

god damn sprig's crying destroyed me

After gaining all stones power, Anne's body start to crack

When Sprig said "Cmon, you'll be ok" he was smiling and coping, hoping everything will be ok

This look exactly like the painting in Anne's room

There's tennis racket, plantars sign, tennis ball as small will mill, the thai-looking post box, small farm, and anne's glowing sowrd

Picture of Plantars, her parents, domino, and her friends, the pen and cane (from Cane Crazy), sprig's figurines, the plushie (from the domino effect) and figurine (from froggy little christmas) that sprig made, the tea pot (from hopping mall), glowing stars from her room, donut pillow (from beginning of the end), the lamp having butterfly theme, her curtain having the flame pattern (similar to her ss3a outfit), and the wallpaper being leaf pattern

Anne seems to born in 2007

When Anne chat with the Guardian, music box's theme is played

"I have my whole life ahead of me to make bad choice and learn good lesson from them," kinda summarize ss1

DOMINO IS THE ALPHA AND OMEGA (mentioned adventure in catsitting)

Anne gonna lived up to 91 years old lol

Frobo learning not to tackle hug ppl this time, also Anne's theme played

The girls receive the crown with the same color as their gem

When Marcy receive her crown, Marcy's theme played

YUNANLIVIA CANON

Andrias is surprise that Marcy somewhat still care for him

When Sasha start crying after receiving the crown, Sasha's theme played

Sasha still cares about Percy and Braddock

During the scene where Anne said goodbye to Plantars, Anne's theme played

HOP POP CALLING ANNE HIS GRANDDAUGHTER

"Family always finds each other" (from The Day at Aquarium)

"Spranne against the world" is the final message between Anne and Sprig

I will not emotionally recover from this

Andrias having Barrel's warhammer, Leif's pin, Marcy's pin, and leaves in his beard(similar to anne)

Triple B can be seen helping Andrias regrow plants

The dude that was kidnap by dragonfly in the first ep is still up there lmao, also that scene playout similar to first ep: camera panning down on Stumpy's and Wally leaving

Stumpy's now serve Thai Tea Pancakes with maggots

Bog & the boys now have job as moving junk & service with Jacinda (kinda make sense since, u know they move stuff out of wartwood back in ss1)

Polly have a wrench in her pocket

Chuck now have a Tulip Emporium

Jeremy is now with the other mushroom (in a pot)

GRIME BEARD

BESSIE AND JOE HAD KIDS

HOP POP KEPT HIS AVOCADOS

Hop Pop and Sylvia hanging out~

Bunch of callbacks/reference: moss man, Amphibia theme song lyrics, domino 1 & 2, calamity anne form, cursed Anne, roadtrip arc map, anne's leaf, tomato monster, grub hog, Thai Go, and the runes that we never even figure out what the letter "v" and "z" is

The hidden continent Ivy mentioned later seems to be on west of mainland

Ivy still abushing Sprig...and got the red seashell to match sprig's blue moon shell~

When Ivy talked about hidden continent, Anne's theme played

Anne Boonchuy's statue sign also said: "We miss you, girl!"

Marcy having Sakura(naruto) and Bakugo(my hero academia) keychain

Sasha having the 2 swords symbol on her jacket, the 2 swords keychain, bi heart sticker, and her guitar sticker

Marcy is a web comic artist!?

Sasha is a kid therapist!?

Anne having leaf pattern scrunchie

Anne's theme playing in her monologue

each species exhibit reflect Amphibia: frog's modeled after Plantar's house, toad's after Toad tower, newt's after newtopia, and olms after Proteus

End credit stuff:

The end credit cycle from Marcy's theme to Sasha's then to Anne's

Anne's tennis racket, Sasha's pink sword, and Marcy's crossbow was placed where they left Amphibia

Toad tower never seems to be rebuild....plus there's plants growing on it now

จบบริบูรณ์....which means "The End"

Also notice how Anne's is in middle of the picture now

Annnnd that's the end of the show! This show is surely smth special! Can't believe we spent 4 years with this show and seeing it from beginning to end is just...quiet bittersweet. Seeing how everything came together and make this master piece is just, WOW. I really hope we can see these characters and this world some day again in the future, but for now it's time for a rest.

On other notes, thank you for reading the Amphibia Details posts throughout the show lifespan, I really do enjoy looking for details in each episode and cherish everything the crew gave us. So, once again, thank you, and I hope we see each other again in some random post in the future.

...

Also I've been crying for around 6 hours straight my eyes feel so dry AHHHHHHHH-

#amphibia #the hardest thing #amphibia details

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cigardadmasterdj · 3 years

Photo

Look how good your former friend looks. He's so much better looking than you. You follow him around. You're a beta. He can talk to women and you stumble over your words. You are bad at pretty much everything but you try really hard. You approach being good at your job but you lack any confidence. Meanwhile, your buddy is charismatic and totally attractive. You're homely and you are lucky to even be in his presence. He's so brilliant and hot. He realized after a while you could be something more than a friend....you could be his own personal faggot! He could make you do his laundry and you work in his yard. You yearn for his approval. You yearn for him to approve of your work. You cook for him. Sometimes you make dinner for him and a lady friend of his and then you get out. You began to do a lot of extra work from the office where you are both employed. Doing your work and some of the grunt work he's too important for. He's up for promotion now. He's skyrocketing ahead and you..well, you're a fag. That's what you are. That's okay. You should try and make Alphas happy. You want them to approve of you. You’re not as good as they are.

Say that you're a fag and the only thing you are good for is serving Alphas. Go on. Say it.

Say you’re a fag and the only thing you are here for is to serve Alphas.

MY NAME IS MASTER DJ. I AM A CASHMASTER, AND I HAVE ENSLAVED HUNDREDS OF MEN OVER THE YEARS. THEY ALL BOW TO ME. THEY WORSHIP ME. THEY CRAVE ME. THEY LOVE ME. I DESERVE IT ALL.

LIKE MY BLOG, STORIES AND CAPTIONS?

THANK ME VIA AN AMAZON GIFTCARD.

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Send it to:

[email protected]

I KNOW ALL. I SEE ALL. I SEE INSIDE YOUR FAGGOT SOUL.

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ALL FAGS LOVE ME. ALL FAGS WORSHIP ME. ALL FAGS CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF ME. YOU CRAVING SOME ORDERS, YOU LOWLY MAGGOT? HUH? COME MESSAGE ME ABOUT HOW MUCH YOU WANT TO SERVE. MASTER DJ IS HERE, AND I’M BETTER THAN YOU IN EVERY WAY.

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therealsaintscully · 3 years

Text

Mary and butterflies - the inevitability of death, murderous calling cards and collectors

Some ramblings with links to other people’s excellent meta, in which I suggest that butterflies (and/or moths) symbolize Mary as Moriarty’s reincarnation and or calling card, while also hint at her inevitable death.

Disclaimers: credits are below the cut. I’m not an expert in any of these topics. Thank you, @thewatsonbeekeepers for the beta. In this post I’ll be using moths and butterflies interchangeably, apologies to any entomologists.

Mary’s appearance in the show brings with it new imagery we haven’t seen prior to The Empty Hearse - butterflies. Once Mary’s in the picture, there are butterflies in some very strategic locations, all are either visually or subtextually leading to her. The show has done that previous to season 3; Moriarty is connected to some well established symbols like magpies, apples and IOUs.

When I first started reading meta I used to think these themes were a bit of a stretch, but I’ve since accepted that this is a show that puts barely noticeable phoenixes in a restaurant scene that shows us Sherlock rising from his death.

Here are some of the butterflies I spotted so far:

Butterflies (and in the case of this piece of meta, moth) symbolize most commonly resurrection, change and renewal. Behind the symbolism stands the transformation of a small, ungainly creature into something full-grown and unbound. In that case, in the simplest way, one could argue that butterflies were chosen to symbolize her because the ‘Mary Morstan’ persona was a stillborn’s identity that was stolen and used ‘reborn’ to create a new person.

But more than this simplistic idea; butterflies carry multiple symbolisms. When it comes to Sherlock, I and many others tend to look at Victorian symbolism, considering the detective’s Victorian roots.

I find the appearance of butterflies interesting in Mary’s context, much like I find the skull interesting in Sherlock’s. The skulls, in Sherlock’s case, serve plenty of purposes, but one of them is the idea of memento mori.

Memento mori (Latin for 'remember that you [have to] die') is an artistic or symbolic reminder of the inevitability of death. These are representations that can appear in any form of art such as paintings, literature, poetry etc. It’s a concept that existed in many ancient cultures but is also deeply rooted in early Christianity. It serves to remind people of the inevitable; that even if we choose to ignore it, not think about it, it’s always there lurking, and the purpose is not to scare us but to encourage us to make good use of our time when we’re alive. Memento mori was the philosophy of reflecting on your own death as a form of spiritual improvement, and rejecting earthly vanities.

Victorians were obsessed with the concept (weren’t Victorians obsessed with everything?). They would take photographs of the dead and keep locks of hair of those who died in mourning brooches. It is said that they found these practices comforting.

Another expression of the ‘remember that you must die’ concept was vanitas art; vanitas is a symbolic work of art showing the transience of life, the futility of pleasure, and the certainty of death. The Latin noun vanitas (from the Latin adjective vanus 'empty') means 'emptiness', 'futility', or 'worthlessness', the traditional Christian view being that earthly goods and pursuits are transient and worthless. It alludes to Ecclesiastes 1:2; 12:8, where vanitas translates the Hebrew word hevel (הבל), which also includes the concept of transitoriness.

This concept reminds me, most especially, of the skull used in The Abominable Bride, which is actually Charles Allen Gilbert's 'All is Vanity' Illusion art.

Back to butterflies - butterflies are a staple component of vanitas art - paintings executed in the vanitas style were meant to remind viewers of the transience of life, the futility of pleasure, and the certainty of death. They also provided a moral justification for painting attractive objects - in a way, it’s a justification for the vanity, or the human need of enjoyment of beautiful things. Below is a vanitas by Jan Sanders van Hemessen:

But butterflies are also considered an omen of death:

“Butterflies and moths were associated with death, sometimes merely as omens, sometimes as the soul or ghost.” These butterfly omens came in many ways. For example, in the nineteenth century United States, some people thought that a trio of butterflies was an omen of death.” [x]

Oh.

But I also think there’s more to the butterfly symbolism than Mary’s imminent death; I suggest that, in keeping with @loudest-subtext-in-tv M-Theory (suggesting that Mary was planted in John’s life by Moriarty), they symbolize Mary as Moriarty reincarnated following his death in TRF. That Moriarty had indeed not disappointed Sherlock - there was a posthumous game after all! That Sherlock was supposed to understand that while one form of Moriarty died on that roof, another had emerged, continuing the mission of burning Sherlock’s heart. Mary is Moriarty’s calling card, left behind in the crime scene. They’re different, but not separate, which is why Sherlock is so obsessed with Moriarty between HLV-T6T; he’s both wrong and correct at the same time.

So far, what I’ve suggested is that in Sherlock, skulls are Sherlock’s symbolic memento mori - the skulls are associated with Sherlock in some very significant ways.

However, Mary’s character was doomed from the start - she dies during Sherlock’s hiatus in ACD canon. I believe many fans assumed Sherlock’s Mary expected the same fate when she was introduced to the show. Although the story of Samarra is told by Sherlock, who expects his own death in T6T, Mary is the one who ends up dying.

Butterflies in ACD canon

Searching for the significance of butterflies in the ACD and BBC canon led me to a number of interesting directions in meta written by others.

The first and probably the best place to start is this meta post by @tendergingergirl, which I strongly suggest you read in full: Butterflies, Sexual Deviancy & The Bloodline Theory in The Hound of The Baskervilles.

Stapleton also has a hobby. He collects bugs…Butterflies, to be exact. This can often be seen as purely academic, but depending on the actions of the hobbyist, they can indicate more disturbing things. That of holding something vulnerable captive, treating it as your hostage, pinning it down. The torture of animals has come to be a good indicator of someone who would do this to a human. He had already shown callousness by laughing as he recounts to Holmes of ponies wandering onto the Moor, becoming trapped, and dying. In 1974, there was a release of a new edition of Sherlock Holmes stories, with the forward of The Hound of The Baskervilles written by British author, John Fowles. He is responsible for several well-known works, including The French Lieutenant’s Wife. Another, was a novel that Mason finds himself wondering why Fowles doesn’t mention in his introduction, since the villain is such a close parallel to Stapleton.(but as we have learned through the study of ACD, most writers will not come right out and say where they got their inspiration. They like for you to guess!)

A lonely young man, works as a clerk, and collects butterflies, becomes obsessed with a pretty young girl, Miranda, an art student. He chloroforms, and kidnaps her, taking her to his cellar basement, to add Miranda to his collection. That book was called The Collector. But what else does it sound like?

“So yes, I googled. From an article on the release of the movie’s Documentary. "The docu proves a poor reference point for anyone who wants to understand the literary and movie links for “Lambs.” There’s no mention, for example, of how Harris partly based the butterfly-loving Bill on John Fowles’ kidnapper in “The Collector” …And here I thought Mofftiss added allusions to Silence of The Lambs into Sherlock just for fun. SMH.”

@tendergingergirl also added this photo to their post:

So what we have here is a chain of metatextualities/inspiration, starting with ACD’s THOB, where Jack Stapelton inspires a book about a disturbed butterfly collector (The Collector by John Fowles), which inspires a the author of Silence of the Lambs in creation of his character Buffalo Bill, a serial murderer who inserts a death's head moth into the victim's throat because he is fascinated by the insect's metamorphosis. Silence of the Lambs served as inspiration for Sherlock as analyzed by @garkgatiss in Bond, Hannibal, and Holmes (I suggest you read the whole Hannibal section) .

Let’s look again at some imagery from His Last Vow. Mary shoots Sherlock’s heart, essentially burning his heart out, and who does Sherlock meet in his Mind Palace in a very cocoon-like straightjacket? Yes, the dead dude who encourages him to die already (“one more push, and off you pop”).

What’s the next thing we as an audience see once Sherlock opens his eyes? Mary coming to the hospital to hear that Sherlock had, in fact, survived. And what is she wearing? Her butterfly scarf, one which will another appearance later in the episode, during the tarmac scene.

I also find it interesting that in the context of Sherlock and Silence of the Lamb, there’s an element of gender-switching between Moriarty and Mary. Buffalo Bill, the murderer from Silence of the Lambs, skins bodies of women to create himself a woman’s 'suit’; in Sherlock, Moriarty is a man-villain who transforms into a female-villain in the form of a bride and/or Mary.

By the way, who else is obsessed with his suits?

Also, let’s not forget the worms, maggots and other such crawlers in the grave scene:

Now, let’s go over some of the photos I included in the beginning of this post a bit further.

Mrs. Hudson’s butterfly tea set is first shown in TEH - she uses it to serve John tea when he comes visiting her and tellis her about Mary. We also see it near John’s chair on the day of the wedding. This isn’t Sherlock’s set - his set is different, featuring the British Isles. Moriarty drinks from it in TRF. The next tea set we see, now that Moriarty is dead, is the butterflies one. In TLD, Mrs. Hudson uses Sherlock’s tea set - the butterflies are gone.

Mary’s bedroom wallpaper is very feminine, with flowers and butterflies, both complementing symbols while also very common in vanitas art. Much like Mrs. Hudson’s wallpaper in Baker Street, Mary’s wallpaper is supposed to show the contrast between Mary’s flat/Mary and Sherlock’s flat/Sherlock.

There’s an interesting moth reference in The Empty Hearse, which in my opinion, is Mary & Moriarty related. In short, in a previous piece of meta I wrote, I suggested that the Jack the Ripper case in TEH is subtext alluding to Mary’s skeletons, which Sherlock ignores because he’s upset by his reception by John. And what’s one of the first things Sherlock notices about the skeleton? New mothballs smell, hinting at an attempt to get rid of moth/butterflies - maybe a hint to the fact that Sherlock has a chance to discover the truth about Mary but misses it. Also, in the context of Mary and the Jack the Ripper case, notice this transition:

Transitions are important on Sherlock - they’re nearly always there to draw our attention.

This, I think, is perhaps the most telling about a possible connection between Mary and Moriarty: we have both magpies (a Moriarty hint) and butterflies together here. This isn’t the only hint of Mary’s past we get in the wedding; there is, after all, the telegram from CAM.

Mary’s scarf is colorful, and it appears by the time Sherlock’s subconscious suspects Mary. Mary’s black butterfly dress - an ominous dress, I’d say - is the one she wears during the labour scene in the car. The third photo is a behind the scenes photo uploaded by Amanda Abbington, although I’m unsure whether this necklace is AA’s or Mary’s (but I couldn’t pass on including this).

Interestingly, the butterflies do not appear in Rosie’s context - either because it’s a telling sign that Mary won’t be with us much longer, or because Rosie is spared being considered a part of the ‘burning Sherlock’s heart’ plan. Sherlock, on the surface, seems to love Rosie and accepts her.

Also, another BTS photograph I came across during my research which I’ve never seen before and ties nicely to the vanity topic is this one (found here):

The Death's-head hawkmoth and ‘Death with Interruptions’

You’ll recall that I referenced The Collector and Silence of the Lambs, both featuring butterflies on their cover art.

The Silence of the Lambs cover features Acherontia atropos, otherwise known as the death's-head hawkmoth. It gets its name from the sinister-looking skull shape on its back. In many cultures it is thought to be an omen of death. In a bit of another coincidental but stunning piece of symbolism, all three species of the Death's-head hawkmoth are commonly observed raiding beehives of different species of honey bee; A. atropos only invades colonies of the well-known western honey bee, Apis mellifera, and feeds on both nectar and honey. They can move about in hives without being disturbed because they mimic the scent of the bees and are not recognised as intruders.

Anyway, the use of Acherontia atropos reminded me of the book ‘Death with Interruptions’ by Jose Saramago. Interestingly, this is another book about a deathly collector with a butterfly on the cover:

In Death with Interruptions death is a woman, and she falls in love with one of her future victims. She decides to spare his life: Every time death sends him his letter [notifying him of his imminent death], it gets returned. death discovers that, without reason, this man has mistakenly not been killed. Although originally intending merely to analyse this man and discover why he is unique, death eventually becomes infatuated with him, so much so that she takes on human form to meet him. Upon visiting the cellist, she plans to personally give him the letter; instead, she falls in love with him, and, by doing so, she becomes even more human-like.

It’s pretty common to read theories about Mary who maybe was one of the assassins due to kill John both at the pool and in front of Barts. So we have a death harbinger trying to kill someone twice and failing. She then falls in love with him.

But how does the butterfly fit in?

Well, at some point in the story, death (that’s her name, sans a capital d), contemplates that using the death head butterfly, instead of a violet piece of paper, would have sent a much stronger message to those whose death is coming for.

And here’s another last bit of coincidental reference to Sherlock: I’d argue shades of purple, among them shades of violet, are associated with Mary and her secrets. There’s the purple dress she wears in TEH, her bridesmaids’ dresses include various shades of purple (including what I would argue was a violet sash) and let’s not forget:

Oh and, by the way, remember the song Donde Estas, Yolanda from TEH, about a woman called Yolanda? Always thought it was a bit of an odd choice for a song?

Yolanda is a female given name, of Greek origin, meaning Violet.

Thoughts?

Credits: thank you @lukessense for directing me to @tendergingergirl meta about butterflies. Episode screenshots are from kissthemgoodbye.net.

@sarahthecoat @tjlcisthenewsexy @devoursjohnlock @inevitably-johnlocked @shylockgnomes @possiblyimbiassed @raggedyblue @ebaeschnbliah @gosherlocked @waitedforgarridebs @helloliriels

#mary mosrtan #butterflies #silence of the lambs #the collector #meta #sherlock meta #tjlc #johnlockendgame #jim moriarty

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