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hollybell51 · 10 months

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here me out. Adam Warlock and sex pollen.

It's ok - one

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Part two

Adam Warlock x AFAB!Reader

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 (outside canon)

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: foreign flora has an unexpected effect on your human physiology.

Content: sex pollen and associated DUBCON, fuck-or-die, smut, maybe very slight perviness (but I don't think it's creepy or really triggering), Adam being down bad, SMUT. Gratuitous smut. Non-explicit masturbation, handjobs (kinda), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Adam's a virgin, reader isn't, bit on angst, unresolved, there will be part 2. Maybe some out of character-ness, but it's hard cause he only had like 10 minutes screen time so what I've written is based on my own interpretation and what I've read since I watched the movie

Notes: I hear you anon! I actually haven't done sex pollen before, though I always found it kinda fun, so this was new to me. I actually wrote a part 2 which I'll post with this, and that's much of the same xx. Also sorry I haven't done anything in ages, I've been super under the weather and busy so I haven't really had time lmao. Anyways, have fun with this!

“Hey, did you get through those notes?” Your voice echoed in the stillness of the forest, seeming to bounce off the lush petals of the giant flowers towering overhead. The local flora was all supersized, bigger than anything Adam had ever seen, and filtered the harsh light of the planet’s nearest star in sickly sweet hues of pinks, greens, yellows and even blue.

“Breathable atmosphere, mostly docile wildlife. Predators are nocturnal.”

“Ok, just… How much longer are we gonna be out here?”

Adam turned, letting the machete you’d armed him with – “bush bashing. Gotta learn those life skills, huh?” – hang by his side. You were panting, face flushed and beaded with sweat as you planted your hands on your hips and frowned at him. Even like this, speckled with bright yellow and orange pollen and clearly uncomfortable, Adam couldn’t ignore the odd swooping sensation in his gut. It was like someone was constantly pulling a rug from under his feet.

He checked the time displayed on the tablet. “Two hours. Maybe less. Are you ok?”

You groaned, but nodded and walked the few paces to stand beside him. “Goddamn flower dumped its load all over me. You sure this shit is breathable?”

The atmosphere. Right, you were joking about the humidity. “If you don’t mind a bit of a steam,” he tried, smiling at the short bark of laughter the remark conjured.

You tapped his machete-holding hand, jerking your head towards the wall of fleshy greenery. “Nice. Let’s just get this over with.”

Adam simply nodded. The falling feeling had been replaced by something warm and sticky, the simple touch and your laugh flowing like syrup to sit low inside him. It had been like this for a while now, since he’d started really talking to you, spending time with you, noticing things about you. Like your hair, now dusted with fiery plant spores and stuck to your forehead, and how it caught the lights of Knowhere just right when you sat down beside him to eat. Or the little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you smiled – really smiled. The High Evolutionary had disliked wrinkles and other physical signs of ageing, viewed them as imperfect and a blight on existence. Adam could have stared at yours all day.

“Can I see that?”

Again, Adam stopped and turned. You were craning at the tablet, your hand absently running around the collar of your suit.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just… It’s really hot. Do you feel that?”

Adam shrugged. Temperature wasn’t a huge concern to him, but you looked truly uncomfortable now. “Humidity can often make it feel hotter than it is.”

“I know, but…” You grimaced, pulling your collar down further and wriggling your shoulders. “I feel really hot. Worse than before.”

Adam frowned. He knew humans were often sensitive to their environment, much more so than was practical, but you seemed more affected than you should be. There were places on Earth hotter than the current reading, you’d told him that, so why were you–?

The comm on his wrist buzzed, Rocket’s voice crackling across the emergency frequency. “Warlock? You copy?”

“Yeah,” Adam replied, still watching you. You were taking a semi-restrained drink from your flask, no doubt aware that it had to last the whole trek and back.

“Is (Y/N) with you?”

“Yeah, why?” As he watched, you held the back of your hand up to your forehead, then your cheek, then your neck. The suit still seemed to be bothering you.

“Are you on the ground?”

“Yes.”

“You need to get out of there.”

Adam didn’t think he was imagining the urgency in the raccoon’s voice, distorted as it was over the distance. He was in an entirely different corner of the galaxy, after all. “Why? What’s wrong?”

A pause, then, “The flowers, they’re… uh, they’re kinda…”

“They are very powerful aphrodisiacs!” Ah, Kraglin, just as worried-sounding as Rocket. “They can be harmful to humans!”

Your other hand had joined the first on your face, but it didn’t seem to be doing a lot. You’d managed to get the zipper on your suit down, the neck pulled down to expose your shoulders and collar bones, the skin there just as flushed as your face.

“What?”

Rocket groaned, but Kraglin either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Aphrodisiacs,” he repeated. “If she breathes the pollen her body temperature will rise until she develops a fever, and if she doesn’t have sex she could die.”

His entire (relatively short) life, Adam’s mother – and pretty much everyone else – had been more than generous in pointing out that he was lacking, that he was slower than he should be, that he was not up to the same speed as they were. It was because he’d left the cocoon early, he knew that, but he’d never really felt that much slower. Maybe a little, but he’d always understood where he’d gone wrong and why. This was totally different. For the first time, Adam felt like he was lagging behind.

“What?” he asked again. “What do you mean if she doesn’t have sex she’ll die?”

“Makes ya horny, genius. Means what exactly that. Fuck or die.” Rocket took over, clearing his throat. “I’m reading off the notes, bit further down. It’s small, so you might have missed it. It says it works normal for most species, but humans are more fragile so…”

Yes, that made sense. Adam couldn’t remember that in what he’d read, but he’d also been distracted by your legs slung across his and the little wrinkle that had appeared between your brows as you’d carefully packed your bag, sliding everything perfectly into place. He’d wanted to just reach across and run his thumb over the line, smooth it away forever.

Now, that same bag thudded as it hit the ground and you frantically fanned yourself, eyes closed. There was no telling if you’d heard the conversation, but Adam didn’t want to waste time finding out.

“Ok, I’ll, uh, get her back to the ship.”

“She ok?”

He paused for a moment, then settled on, “yeah, she’ll be fine.”

“You got this, golden boy.” The radio crackled and fell silent, and that was that. What a great help.

“(Y/N)?” he ventured, picking up your pack. “Did you get all that?”

You nodded, wriggling to get the zipper further undone. Your back was beaded with sweat, and in any other circumstance, maybe Adam would have let himself dwell more on the soft contours of your spine, the roll of your shoulder blades, the harsh line of your bra strap in contrast to your smooth skin.

“I’m really… It’s so hot, holy shit. Why’s it gotta be so hot?”

“I think that’s the fever bit. Come on, we should get back.”

You drew a sharp breath when his hand met your back, your whole body tensing.

Adam withdrew at light speed. “Sorry, I didn’t–”

“No,” you cut him off, “no, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Ok.”

It couldn’t have been more than half an hour since you’d set out, but it felt like a long time to get back. You were slower, for one, stumbling and muttering apologies whenever you became disorientated – which was often – and wriggling like your clothes were full of insects. Your breath came heavy, your skin becoming more and more flushed as you drew closer to the ship, and you looked so uncomfortable it made something twist inside Adam.

“I heard it,” you panted, stepping clumsily over a root. “What Kraglin said.”

“Oh,” was all Adam could think of.

“You don’t— You shouldn’t— You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Hey, no, it’s ok. You’ll be ok.”

“I’m– fuck, Adam.”

“You’ll be ok, (Y/N). We can sort this out.”

“I don’t wanna force you to do anything–”

How cruel could the Universe be? Adam wondered as he patted your shoulder – then regretted it when you stumbled. You were the first person he’d really wanted anything with, the first person he’d thought about and imagined and, dare he say it, fantasised about, and now you were worried you were going to somehow hurt him or make him do something he didn’t want to. It was sweet, bitterly so, and ironic enough to feel like a punch in the stomach. If anyone should be worried, it should be him. After all, how were you ever going to look at him the same way after this? How was he going to look at himself the same way?

“I’m so…” You broke off as you emerged into the clearing where the ship was parked, a sob – relief or something else, Adam couldn’t tell – torn from you.

Your legs were shaking now, your skin so hot Adam could feel it through the material of your suit. He helped you quickly aboard, avoiding your eyes as you peeled the suit from your shoulders and pushed yourself against the cool wall. The pollen still lay over your hair and clothes, insultingly cheerful and innocent.

He sighed. “We should get rid of that.”

“Huh?”

“The suit. It’s got pollen all over it.”

“Oh, right.” You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, peeling the material from your body without a second thought. Well. Adam hadn’t expected that. Trying not to watch as you sunk down to the floor, he shoved the offending clothing into the disposal to be dealt with later.

“You should probably take a shower. There’s pollen in your hair and… on you.”

You nodded, legs pressed firmly together, arms spread over the cool surface at your back. “Yeah, sure, I… Can you… Fuck, Adam, I’m sorry I—”

“It’s ok, (Y/N), don’t worry.” It felt like a ridiculous thing to say, but seemed to help a little. “What do you need me to do?”

“I need…” You trailed off in a low whimper, your legs shaking now. You didn’t even seem to notice you were in nothing but your underwear. “I…”

Again, that twisting feeling. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with a relieved sigh, your head tipping back.

So Adam went with you, helping you into the tiny decontamination spray shower, trying to avoid touching you as much as possible – not for lack of trying on your part. You seemed to gravitate towards him, pressing your body into his hands wherever they lay, leaning hard against him. Your breath was still laboured, your face still pink, but it seemed less painful now that you had direction and were free of the suit. You’d stopped wriggling, anyway.

You sighed as you sank down to the floor, your fingers vice-like around Adam’s. His free hand found the taps easily, turning on a cool jet and directing it to the pollen in your hair. It flowed down your neck and shoulders, an orange river spiralling into the drain.

“I’m sorry,” you said for what must have been the millionth time, your own free hand pressed between your legs, tension radiating from every line of your body. “I’m so sorry, Adam.”

“Hey, no, don’t be. It’s going to be ok.” He crouched, ignoring the water as he reached across to lay a hand on your forehead. You practically whined at the contact, your fingers tangling even harder with his, skin hot despite the cold water.

“(Y/N)?” he said softly.

“Hm?

“Rocket, uh… Rocket said the pollen’s an aphrodisiac.”

“Yeah, I – fuck – I know. Trust me.”

“He said it works, um, strongly on humans.” Adam paused, heart pounding. Why did it have to be you, of all people? And why him? “If you don’t,” he continued, “you know… The fever might get high enough to kill you.”

“Oh fuck, come on!” Water sprayed where your foot slapped the shower floor, your voice echoing.

Adam had never felt worse about anything. “I’m sorry, I should have checked the notes first, I didn’t even consider–”

You didn’t seem to care. “So now I’m gonna overheat and die?”

“Unless you have sex. With someone.”

Your head thudded on the wall, a sob flopping wetly from your throat. “Fuck this. Does it have to be with someone? Will it work if I just… do it myself?”

“Uh, actually, I don’t know. Maybe.” He paused, unsure, then, “Do you want to try?”

“Yeah, yeah I—” You took a shuddering breath, blinking through the water dripping over your face. “Yeah.”

Adam nodded, standing. “I’ll… I’ll be around. If you need anything.”

“Thanks.” It was barely a whisper, so wretched it made his heart hurt. You released his hand, and he turned quickly to leave you alone, your relieved moan following him out the door. Adam didn’t like this, not at all. You weren’t quiet, though he supposed that wasn’t your fault, and he hated, really hated the heat your moans and gasped curses sparked in him. It was wrong, so wrong, and he should not be here. But he couldn’t leave you.

“Fuck, fuck oh my God–” you cried eventually, a wet thud echoing through the wall. “Oh my– fuck fucking fuck!”

Adam listened carefully, unsure whether or not he should…

“Adam?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t…” You broke off in a sob, genuine fear lacing your voice. “Fuck.”

“(Y/N)?” He stepped back into the shower, pausing only for a moment to take in the mess that was you. Your hand was still between your legs, thighs spread wide, panties crumpled in a wet bundle in the corner and your bra pulled halfway down your torso. In any other situation, it would have been the hottest thing Adam had ever seen.

“I can’t… It didn’t work, I’m still so hot, why am I so goddamn hot?”

Adam cursed as he crouched beside you, taking your free hand only a little gingerly. He cursed fate and circumstance, himself for not reading the notes properly, Rocket and Kraglin for not miraculously having a cure, and you for still looking so fucking beautiful while you were quite literally dying. He swore that if – when – he and you got out of this, he was going to burn that whole jungle.

“We’ll fix this,” he assured you, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

You sighed at the contact, shifting closer.

He frowned. “Is that…?”

“Feels better when you touch me,” you murmured.

That was going to haunt his dreams, he just knew it. This whole ordeal was going to haunt him, and probably not in the way it should have. He already knew he’d be seeing your shoulders silky with the water, your back slicked with sweat and the smooth curve of your thigh for months, let alone everything else. Wrong wrong wrong wrong, he reminded himself.

“Do you…” He stopped. It was absurd. It was wrong. It was not something he’d ever live down.

Your eyes were open, overly bright and dark with want, searching his face like he held all the answers. You were still so flushed, hair plastered to your forehead and dark with the water, lips parted and so, so pink.

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

“Yes.” The syllable was torn from you, ragged and desperate, followed quickly by another sob. You shook your head. “I don’t want to pressure you, don’t wanna make you do something you don’t want to.”

He could have laughed. How were you still so focussed on that of all things? It brought that syrupy feeling back, only now it was darker, hotter, and tinged with guilt.

“It’s ok,” he said softly. “(Y/N), it’s ok. Don’t worry.” He carefully moved his hand to your face, pushing the wet hair off your forehead.

You leaned into it as you had before, your eyes closed. “Then yeah, I… Fuck, Adam, I want you so bad. You have no idea how much I want you.”

It wasn’t you. Not really. He did his best to ignore the spread of the tingling warmth, his own want, as he helped you to your feet and did his best to dry you – again, as gently as he could. You just let him, casting your bra away when he paused at it, still struggling to stand and trying your best to get as close to him as you could.

Vaguely, Adam wondered how the hell this would actually work. He hadn’t had a lot of experience with much of anything before he met you and the other Guardians, let alone sex, and he had no idea if you had either. He somehow doubted you were in the same position as he was – you were gorgeous, after all, and so friendly it was a wonder he hadn’t ended up head over heels for you sooner.

He really wished this wasn’t happening. He wished you really did want him, that he’d worked up the guts to ask Quill about Gamora and how that had gone before he’d taken off, then told you about his feelings properly. If he’d gotten that far, he was sure you’d have shown him how it went with the same patience and care you’d shown him everything, and he’d have liked to have taken his time. He’d have liked to kiss you, touch your pretty hands and hold you close, feel you all over and let you take the lead, tell you about the things he thought about you and everything you did to him.

But it was happening, and you were probably not going to want to talk to him after it had run its course. At least you’d be alive.

You’d stumbled to a bed – one of the standard fold-out ones – beside him, and now he sat you down on its edge. You hadn’t released your hold, pulling him down with you, hands flying straight to the fastening of his own damn suit.

“Is this ok?” you breathed, practically vibrating with anticipation. Your hands were flitting everywhere; his hair, his neck, along his jaw, his face, his own hands. You were very clearly trying very hard to make yourself slow down, wait, and Adam’s heart melted.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s all ok. You do what you need to.”

A sigh of relief, a soft “thank you,” and then you were clambering into his lap and peeling his clothes off like it was nothing, your lips hot and hard against his. Adam hadn’t kissed anyone before, but he’d seen enough movies – most of them with you – to know that this wasn’t how it usually went. There was little technique or rhythm, more your tongue licking into his mouth, teeth occasionally knocking against his, so forceful he wondered if it was hurting you.

You’d completely stripped him remarkably fast, and now your hands explored his shoulders and arms, trailing goosebumps down his chest and stomach. You fit perfectly over him, and he allowed himself to run his own hands up your back, down again, over your hips, finally settling in the curve of your waist. How often had he wondered what it would be like to hold you there?

You moaned, the heat at your centre slick and wet against his own rapidly hardening dick. And now you were moving, too, grinding against him like your life depended on it and why had nobody told Adam it could feel like this?

You’d broken the kiss, your lips swollen and even redder than they’d been before, your hands now in his hair, fingers tugging ever so gently. Adam had to stifle his own little sound of pleasure, bending his head to kiss at your neck and those collar bones he could look at forever. You gasped a “yes” when his tongue darted out to taste the skin, the faint tang of sweat mingling with the sweetness of the water that had dripped there from your still-damp hair.

Your fingers tightened in his own hair, the delicious pull sending more heat straight down. You directed his head in that direction, too, arching your back until his mouth found the soft mound of your breast and he licked, then on a whim, sucked.

“Oh, yes, Adam–” you panted, your movements becoming even more frantic.

“Hm?”

“Oh, that’s– that’s so good.”

Did you know what you were doing to him? Adam supposed you didn’t, sucking again at a different spot, licking it, placing a kiss there, moving on. Rinse and repeat.

Then your hands disappeared from his hair – that was a shame, but this wasn’t about him – and the next moment your fingers were wrapped around his cock and you were stroking it better than he ever had, your palm a million times softer than his, sliding easily with your own slick.

“Can I?” you were asking. “Please, Adam, can I?”

You could do whatever you wanted, Adam didn’t care. If he’d thought about it, he’d have realised that he actually liked the idea of you having your way with him, using him for your own pleasure, taking what you needed from him. But he didn’t think about it, he was too caught up in the smell and taste of your skin, the little sounds you were making, the wonderful movement of your hand.

“Yes,” he breathed, “yes, go ahead, (Y/N). Please, just– just go ahead.”

You were moving, rising on those wonderful thighs and your hand was moving too, something hot and slick rubbing over the head of his dick and then holy shit Adam’s mind went blank. If he’d thought you felt hot before, it was nothing compared to this. He groaned in unison with you as you sank down, taking him fully and gripping his shoulders, your breath fanning his face. You fit perfectly around him, squeezing spongy and smooth, and nothing could have prepared him for it.

You braced yourself on his shoulders, rising off him – for a second he wondered if that was it, if you were pulling away – before you sank back down. You did it again, then again, and again and again until the only sounds in the room were your breaths mingling with his, your unrestrained little moans and his own half-stifled ones, the slap of your skin on his.

Adam held you close, hands still anchored to your waist, transfixed by the silken heat of you and the brush of your chest against his, the bounce of your breasts and solidity of your body on top of his.

“Feels so fucking good,” you panted. “No idea, so fucking – shit – good–”

“(Y/N),” he choked, unable to form a single coherent thought.

“You’re so good, Adam oh my God.”

Something was building in his stomach, he could feel it. The warm syrupiness was gone, something hotter and harder and so tight coiling in its place, growing with each moan and sigh and whispered curse from you. It was so much, almost too much, and half of his brain wanted you to stop right there. But the other half, the half that created those late-night daydreams, real dreams, half-formed ideas and scenes in his mind… That half wanted you to go harder, slam your hips down faster and say it again, tell him he felt good, he was doing well.

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you murmured, as if you’d read his mind. “You’re so… ah, fuck, Adam, I’m so close–”

Close to what? he wondered vaguely, but the praise was spinning that coil faster, faster, tighter and faster until–

“Adam, oh, Adam—!”

It snapped, electric and white hot and rolling up his spine like a damn shockwave. He could hear you crying his name, your movements slowing and your body spasming around his. He’d cum before, of course he had, but never like this. That had been small and so quick he hadn’t even realised what was happening until he was spilling into his hand or the bedsheets, confined to his dick, never spreading through his whole body and never with that glorious buildup. This was something else entirely.

After what felt like an age, Adam’s mind returned to his body. You were shaking, collapsed against his chest, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his around your waist, your face pressed into his hair, his own nestled in the junction of your neck and shoulder. You fit so perfectly against him.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice husky even to his own ears.

You didn’t lift your head, but he felt you nod.

“Are you sure? You’re shaking.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m fine. I feel better, actually. How about you?”

Adam just nodded, unwilling to move. He could feel himself softening inside you, but didn’t want to lose the warmth and the feeling that he was yours, that he was fully with you. But… “Do you want me to stay?”

No response, then a deep sigh. “Yes,” you whispered.

Adam ignored the butterflies and the spark of hope that conjured, opting instead for practicality. He could feel the rapidly cooling sweat on his own back, the coldness of your damp hair, the mess of spend around the place where your body swallowed his.

“I’m going to clean you up,” he said softly, “then I’ll come back. Alright?”

“Ok.”

Slowly, reluctantly, he lifted you off himself and set you down further back on the bed. You whined at the loss of contact, curling in on yourself and shivering. But you weren’t so hot anymore, the flush had been replaced by what he could only describe as a glow and the overly bright look had vanished from your eyes. You really did look better.

After a moment’s hesitation, Adam rose and turned away, making for the cabinet where the medpacks and other supplies were kept. You wanted him to stay. You’d told him he felt good. You’d held him afterwards, let him hold you, and had made no move to make him leave. If anything, you’d looked disappointed when he’d broken the contact. But still, you weren’t yourself.

He paused, a horrible thought crossing his mind. Was he going to end up like Quill? Hopelessly chasing a woman who didn’t feel the same way about him? He hoped not, he’d seen how miserable the man was. But you weren’t hard the way Gamora was -- as much as Adam knew her, anyway, which wasn't much. You were soft and open, and you did care about him, he was sure of it. At least you had.

Shaking his head, Adam returned to the room with a damp cloth in hand.

“(Y/N)?” he asked softly, pausing at the door. No answer.

You were where he’d left you, he saw as he stepped around it, still curled up on your side. Your eyes were closed, the rise and fall of your ribs deep and even. Asleep. The surge of tenderness surprised him, strong enough that he was sure he’d been swamped by an actual wave. You really were beautiful, even damp and naked, lips swollen and hair mussed.

He was careful not to wake you as he brushed the hair off your face, wiped away the worst of the mess, and then pulled a blanket over you. He wondered briefly if he should stay with you, slide down beside you and wrap his arms around your waist, warm you with his body heat and be there to tell you it was all alright when you woke up.

You shifted, heaving a deep breath and adjusting your position minutely, and that decided it. Adam couldn’t disturb you, as much as he wanted to, and there was still your suit and discarded underwear, not to mention the original task. On an impulse, he bent and placed a soft kiss on your forehead before turning, scooping his own clothes off the floor and making for the shower.

#adam warlock #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock smut #adam warlock x you #gotg3 #mcu #fanfiction #fanfic #shameless smut #smut #marvel #gotg vol 3

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1-ker0sene-1 · 3 months

Text

The Dead Do Talk

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish / Reader

(Wheelchair User Reader)

Chap1, Chap2, Chap3, Chap4

"Afternoon Traffic"

Word Count: 4.4k

CW: guns

Just like you told Johnny. You left with him. The two of you loaded as much as you could from the store into the truck outside. Taking the keys from Marvins back pocket. As much as you were cautious of living around another person suddenly, you were giving Johnny your trust. He has done nothing but help and defend you after all. Stubborn as you could be, you knew you needed him. But fuck was that terrifying.

Here you were in the passenger, a map in your lap as you two were trying to figure out where to go. Narrowing it down to the mountains or the coast, having the sea at your back could be useful. But going up in the woods would also have benefits, no city means less corpses. The woods mean hunting grounds, maybe fresh water. Indecision was a seemingly permanent ache in your brain.

You fold the map and drop it on the dash with a sigh. Letting your eyes drift over to John, in the driver seat, blue eyes on the road. His hand taps the armrest, before gripping the leather. As if keeping himself from mindlessly reaching over.

"Ye alright lass?"

He asks. You sigh a bit softer at his concern. Nodding, but realizing he's still looking forward you open your mouth to explain.

"Yeah. .. Yeah I'm fine. Just.. Figuring out our options.."

You mumble.

You watch Johnny purse his lips in thought, before his teeth scrape at his lower lip. Brows furrowing. Speaking up after a moments consideration.

".. Ye think 'da militarys still goin'?"

He asks. Making you frown quietly, looking forward at the road. Hand lifting to grip at your own dog tags.

"There used to be broadcasts.. Channels on the radio.. they went silent two weeks ago."

Johnny's jaw sets and his eyes look lost, your stomach flips watching him. It's like watching someone go through grief, the way his brows upturn, before pressing down hard in frustration. You suck in a breath before speaking again.

".. Doesn't mean it's gone.. they could be held up in older bases. .. Underground even.. maybe the frequencies can't get through."

You offer the possibility. Before staring at his tags.

".. You got a team huh?"

You guess.

He nods slowly, you see his arms tense. His fist clenches. You can't tell if it's anger, or an intense wave of sorrow.

"Did. They left me bon."

The words make your head tilt, you know the feeling of abandonment all too well.

"You.. Don't know for sure."

You try to comfort.

"You were shot in the head John.. Two months ago you probably still needed the machines. I don't know how anyone could have gotten you out. The door was barricaded right?"

{A/N:.. It was Simon.}

John takes a glance your way, taking in a quick uneven breath as he nods. You continue.

".. Maybe.. They were trying to come back for you."

Your words stir something deep in his brain, his head aches and his chest twists firmly at the thought. Then where the fuck were they? Was the 141 even alive?

He parts his lips to speak but beeping interrupts him, his eyes look down to the display of the truck. The sickly yellow light taunting him in irregular flashes. This was the last thing they needed right now, struggling for gas.

"Gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me.."

He growls seeing the low gas light. You groan and press your head back into the seat.

"Best luck to the worst in one day."

You mutter under your breath.

John had pulled the truck on the side of the road as soon as you two saw some other cars. There was a siphon in the back, Marvin must have been getting gas from the neighborhood each night. You've been driving for hours anyways.

"Let's take a break.. just to get our heads on straight."

You suggest. And he seems to agree, nodding lightly. Popping open the passenger door, you swing your legs to the side of the seat.

Johnny glances at the back of your head, before pushing open the drivers door, taking the keys and getting out.

"Ye wan' your chair hen?"

You shake your head and wave him off, no point in getting out if you're going to be staying around the truck anyways.

"How many nicknames you gonna give me Sargeant?"

You joke with a raised brow, he pushes his tongue on the inside of his cheek and let's out a breathy laugh, shaking his head.

"Habit."

He brushes off.

As Johnny gets the siphon, you hold your rifle in your lap. Watching as he kneels next to a small sedan left abandoned on the street. Keeping watch you glance around, it really was like a dead zone out here. Nothing but remnants of what the world used to be. Your eyes lock on a corpse down the road, dragging it's body on the ground. It's lower half crushed, near flattened, clearly ran over. You sigh at the sight lifting the rifle to aim. Johnny looks up at you.

"See somethin'?"

He asks. You shake your head.

"Just a dead one.. dragging along."

You watch it in your scope, it's face. One of an older woman, wrinkles and white curls. Her eyes are greyed over, you wonder how much of that was from before she turned. It's when you catch sight of the ring around her finger do you tear your eyes away. Lowering the scope. You turn your head and see John still looking at you.

"Not a threat.."

You tell him quietly.

That being the only corpse around, you rest the gun down on the seat next to you.

"Any luck on gas?"

Johnny groaned and shook his head.

"Barely anythin' in this one.. I'll have ta check tha van over there lass."

You nod in understanding.

"I'll keep my eye out. Go on."

He glances at the van, but seems hesitant to leave you in the truck. Picking up the siphon and gas can, he gives you a nod of affirmation and walks a few yards away to it. Across the street now. He knows you're not helpless, fuck you were fending just fine before you found him. But still. Now knowing what it was like in the world? Staying close to the one person who seemed to have his back felt like the right idea. He needed you, he wasn't lying when he said it at that store.

While he was off getting gas, you peek into the duffel he packed at the store. While you were food and water focus, Johnny seemed to be focused on supplies. A good balance between the two of you. You search the bag quietly, thinking of how to use the cheap, but fairly sturdy looking, tools and supplies. You throw your brows up when you find a battery powered shaver, didn't exactly seem like a necessity. Pulling it from the packaging, you find that there's already two round batteries inside.

You look up hearing John's footsteps coming back to you, you hold up the shaver and tilt your head.

"Planning on losing the beard?"

You questioned. To which he chuckles, putting down the gas canister and dusting off his hands.

"Aye, not really my style bon. I got a signature look-"

He says with a lazy grin.

You quirk a brow at him.

"A signature?"

"Mhm, a mowhawk."

Johnny says seriously, coming over to gently take the shaver from your hands. Clicking it on. You laugh and lean back a little, to which he blinks at you and crosses his arms with a smirk.

"Somethin' funny lass?"

You stop laughing and tilt your head, mouth opening after a moment.

"Oh god, you're serious? A mowhawk?"

"Aye."

"Shaving before the drive?"

You hum, leaning up comfortably against the truck door to watch him. Johnny nods, leaning against the truck next to you. Guiding the shaver over his chin and jaw. Took a little while, but he got it down to a nice scruff. Much more tame and you could see his skin clearer. Revealing a jagged small scar under his lower lip and just above his chin.

"Starin' hen?"

He quips, making you crack a smile and roll your eyes.

"You just look different is all."

You mumble. But notice his struggle at getting a good angle on shaving his head. Right.. the scar on his temple must be sensitive, hard to work around. You wave him over, reaching out to take the shaver into your hand again.

"Mowhawk right? Cmere John."

You offer.

Didn't take too much convincing, Johnny now standing between your legs. Sitting in the high truck giving you some height on the man, you could easily get the right angles. Placing a hand on the side of his head you guide the shaver through his hair, down the back of his head till the very end. Going the same in strips, getting rid of the tangled mess of the sides. You were careful around those sore stitches, fingertips grazing over the scar as you pull the shaver away each time he winces. Mumbling a few quiet apologies. The interaction is overall a near silent one, you're too focused, not wanting to hurt the scottish man. Johnny is just looking up at you through his lashes. A hand on the seat next to where you sat.

You pull back completely when you're satisfied, a thick mowhawk going down his head. Sides neatly buzzed down to a reasonable cut. It was close to winter so you left just enough fuzz on his head beside the thick strip. You brush off any of the dark brown hair from your legs.

"Well look at that.. you look a little less terrible than I thought-"

You joke with a wide smile. Making Johnny roll his eyes with a grunt.

"I'll have ye know- recruits shivered in fear seein' this hawk-"

"Oh I'm sure Sargeant."

He opens his mouth to quip back, but catches himself with a hard wince. The throbbing coarsed through his skull, letting out a tight breath as he clenched his fist on the seat next to you. Watching him you set the shaver aside.

"Easy soldier. Your meds should be around here somewhere.."

You mutter quietly, the last part mostly to yourself as you rifle through the bag. Johnny still standing in front of you.

"Dinnae worry bon-"

"Johnny, you lugged me around the entire trip. The least I can do is grab you a couple of pills."

Maybe it's your stern tone or maybe it's that having somebody care about his well being is what he needed right now. But he shuts his mouth and lets you search for the pain killers, glancing over at the road to check for any threats. He sees the corpse you mentioned, dragging along closer to them. Barely a yard closer than when you were looking. Wasn't a threat. By the time he looks back to you, you're holding a couple of white pills and a plastic water bottle out to him.

"Let these kick in and we'll be back on the road."

You give him a questioning smile.

The two of you traveled like this for weeks, settling on heading inland towards the mountainside. No matter where you were going you were going to have to travel through the city. It was a risk, a big one, but it was that or abandon the truck and walk. That wasn't exactly an option.

You and Johnny had fell into a routine, working as one unit. You would keep watch, shooting down any dead in his path when he needed to go outside the truck. Most of the time was just driving, getting gas again, continuing to drive. Nights, you two would pull over to find somewhere to stop. Usually a run down house, store, you've even stopped to sleep in a shed once. No matter how big or small, you slept in the same room, for safety of course.

You knew more of eachother too. Your ranks, call signs. Hell, you teased him the entire week when you found out his call sign was "Soap". You held your side with the most boisterous laugh he's ever heard from you.

"Aw Johnny you want me to call you suds too?"

"Awa' an bile yer heid.."

"No fucking clue what that means suds-"

Today was no different so far, sun was starting to set and gas was low again. This time you both got out of the truck, fuel was getting harder to come by. Checking each car if there was just a few drops to take at this point.

You were leaned into a chevy, turning the abandoned key to check the gas level. Sighing as it only sputtered weakly. Empty. You lean back into your chair, when Johnny calls your name you shake your head.

"Empty!"

You holler back to him. Looking to where he was checking an old pick up truck, you grit your teeth in hope he finds something. But by the way he grunts, kicks the wheel and turns away from the vehicle, it's clear it was just as barren.

Pulling back your chair from the car, you slam it's door shut. Turning back to check the car parked next to it. But your hands freeze hearing the bushes at the edge of the highway rustle. Your head snaps up. And through the windows of the car you see it. A corpse stumbling out of the woods. Gripping your rifle you raise to shoot, but your stomach drops- another corpse stumbles out. Then another. Another..

Your heart hammers in your chest. It was a fucking wave of them. You look in Johnny's direction, he was half in another car with his head down.

"John-!"

You cry out his name loudly, making him pull back to look at you instantaneously. His eyes flicker from you to the mass horde. Eyes widening. Those pretty blue eyes are panicking, he yells your name.

You start to push yourself, but just your arms and chair is only going to get you so far. He's closer to the truck.

"Get in-!"

You try to tell him. But your jaw clenches when he ignores you. Sprinting straight in your direction.

"Johnny get in the fucking truck!"

You scream. Please.

Leaving you wasn't an option to Johnny. Never was. As much as you think you could make it there before the horde, it's not a guarantee. That's not good enough for him. The cars around you were busted, Windows broken, it wouldn't be safe to hide in.

The dead are right behind you, upon realizing that the most you can do now- is turn and shoot. With your rifle you send a bullet through one- two- four- five corpses. They're getting closer. You're losing time. You can hold off a little longer. Just a little -

Your gun jams.

Flipping it around, you prepare to strike the next corpse that comes at you with the butt of the gun. But a knife plunges into the bastards forehead, before being pulled out. Next thing you know is Johnny is hoisting you up over his shoulder out of your chair. Running full speed back to the truck.

"I gotcha hen- I have ye-"

He mutters between heavy breaths.

Pulling the rifle strap over his shoulder, you reach down and pull the pistol from his back pocket. Taking down the closest corpses with some quick shots.

Getting to the truck he ripped open the back door with a pull, doing his best not to just throw you down in the back seat in his panic. As soon as he lays you back, you're grabbing him by the collar. Dragging him down right on top of you in the truck. His arm reels back, pulling the door shut. Slamming his palm down on the lock.

You both breathe heavily, your gripping his shoulders in tight fists of his shirt. Letting your head fall back on the seat.

"Fuck-"

You whisper. Johnny is equally run down, his forearms on either side of your head, holding himself up.

"Ye alright bon?"

He murmurs, you can feel his breath against the side of your head. You nod hurriedly, your hands slowly let go of his shirt, open palms resting on his back.

"I'm good.."

You whisper back.

He drops his head down on your shoulder as you two lay there catching your breath. But you jolt again as the corpses start wandering by the truck, sloppily bumping into it. There's so many out there that the vehicle sways at the passing. You pull Johnny down flat against you.

"Stay down.. They see us they'll stay pushing on the truck."

You mumble against his head. He nods into your shoulder, glaring hard at the leather beneath the two of you.

"Fuck.. The chair-"

"I'll get it bonnie. After they're gone I'll get it."

You sigh quietly and nod against him. Each shift of the truck has you tense, on a particular violent bump- your hand slides up to John's hair. Fingers knitted into his mowhawk. As all you can do is glare at the passing dead. Johnny whispers your name.

"We're alright.. they'll pass."

He soothes.

You gnaw on your lower lip. If Johnny just got in the truck, he could've left. There's enough gas that he could have gotten far from the horde- far from the shit show you're in now.

"You should've-"

"Dinnae even say it."

He bristles, already knowing the unspoken words. He sighs quietly. Turning his head you two can look at eachother from the corners of your eyes. You frown at him. He just looks at you with those same blues.

"That's never an option."

He states clearly.

You just nod slowly, your thumb mindlessly skims over the scar on his temple. It was healing a little better now through these weeks. Checking him over for any wound usually served as a good distraction these days, but this was a hard one. As each time the truck was slammed, you watch his arms tense and his fists clench. Pressing himself over you just a bit tighter, as if preparing for them to break through the doors. Use himself as a living shield. Fuckers will eat him first. He thinks. Maybe he can give them a good struggle while you fight your way out.

The sun is going down. Fuck. It'll be dark in fifteen minutes you guess. The horde is still passing, you wonder just how many of them are there. They must be from the city, wandering around in massive groups. Chasing the sounds of their own groaning, or the occasional car driving by.

"We're sleeping here for the night I guess."

You grumble under your breath. The sways of the truck is a little less violent now, but still consistent. Johnny shifts with a grunt, not wanting to hurt you, but trying to find a way to move without drawing the attention of the dead. You move with him, through small shifts and pulls. You both end up on your sides to make room.

"They probably trampled the damn thing.."

You blurt your thought. You can feel Johnny's breath on the back of your neck.

"What lass?"

"The chair. There's so many of them they probably broke it."

Johnny stays silent hearing you, you can feel his leg shift, trying to give yours some more room.

"We'll deal with it.."

"You shouldn't have to John."

You grunt.

He's quiet again. He wants to be angry with you. But it's hard to. You always manage to try to put himself before you and John just can't understand it. Half of everything he does is for you.

"Dinnae talk like that.."

He mumbles.

"We're a team yeah?"

He says.

He watches you, the way your shoulders rise. You're trying to keep him out again, you do it often. Each time he gets closer, just enough to bring you into the thought that you deserve to be put first just as much as he does. You push back just before you can start to believe it with him. No blue eyes and lopsided scottish smiles can convince you otherwise.

"You could get to the mountains faster without me-"

"I dinnae want to."

John says without a second passing. You blink at the back of the passenger seat in front of you. Sighing as your shoulders sink slowly.

"I want you safe."

"I want ye alive hen."

He responds and you don't fight him this time.

Johnny's arm winds around you, his hand open and splayed out over your stomach. This is pretty normal for him, you learned fast the big man is touchy. But all seemed just who he was, you were thankful he wasn't the creepy type. You sigh against him. Letting yourself be smothered by the scottsman.

You still remember the first time he did. He curled himself up around you at a house you both stayed the night in. You were half asleep and socked the poor bastard out of instinct, gave the man a nice bump on his jaw for a couple days. But you felt so bad that you just lifted the blanket for him and pulled him down into your hold. He just laughed it off and called you a good hit. His arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you into his chest. You called him an idiot. Yet you still held him just as close.

Now you peacefully let himself tangle up against you, a leg between yours. Arm encircling you. You sigh at the rocking of the truck. The doors are locked. You remind yourself. The dead can't get in even if they see you. With that in mind, and Johnny wrapped around you. You let your eyes close and fall asleep.

Your eyes blink open slow and heavy, the first thing you do is glance up at Johnny's face. Still asleep. Good, you know the bastard needs the rest. You've scolded him half a million times by now to get sleep at night, he's always trying to keep watch even when it's your turn to do so. You sit up slowly, his arm slipping down around your waist. Looking out the windows you let out a breath of relief. No corpses.

You look through the windows to get a good look at the highway. Clear of the dead, they definitely moved on through the woods again. The city has to be close by. You blink hearing a gutteral whimper leave the man next to you, attention completely moved to John.

His brows are furrowed, eyes squeezed shut. His chest stutters a slow breath, exhaling shakily. Your heart wrenches, he's had nightmares like this a lot lately. You can never quite pry from him what they're about. Your hand slowly slips over his chest where his heart is, rubbing soft and deep with your open palm.

"Johnny.."

You whisper.

In just that second your wrist is gripped in his strong hand, a type of hold he's never let touch you. Harsh and tight. You don't do anything against him however, just rest your free hand on top of his. Your thumb going round in soothing circles on each scarred knuckle. You waited patiently as his eyes opened and took in what was real around him.

"Easy.."

You soothe.

"Just me."

You mumble.

Johnny let's you go with a curse.

"Fuck- bon I'm sorr-"

"You know it's fine John."

You tell him sternly. Your hand comes up to skim the scar on his head again. Your lips purse in thought, it's like the man can catch you worrying. Groaning softly and patting your leg.

"It's not hurtin' I'm all good lass."

"You should take the painkiller. Don't think I haven't seen you wincing."

You tell him.

He chuckles with what you describe as a shit eating grin.

"Cannae get anything past ye?"

"No."

You say bluntly. But try to give him a little bit more of an understanding smile.

"We have to get up.. Wasting daylight is even less of an option right now. We have to get through the city."

Johnny stares up at you a little longer, his callous thumb toying with the belt loop on your jeans. Eyelashes flicking up at you.

"Aye I know.."

He whispers in response, before sitting up with a grunt. You're already putting two of those pills in his hand, holding out a water bottle too.

"Yer worse than a mum hen-"

"Yeah yeah take your pills Sargeant."

You roll your eyes at him, avoiding that pretty blue gaze of his.

You both sit just a little longer in the mornings silence.

".. This'll be hell Johnny. That city is gonna have even more than the horde last night."

You say, already picking at your nails at the thought of it. Johnny leans into the seat, handing you the bottle of water after he swallowed down his pills. Watching you take a long drink of it.

"We can get through it."

He says simply. You nod in agreement.

"We have to."

You were right. Your chair was busted. Johnny found it a couple meters away, trampled just like you thought. The wheels misshapen, the frame bent. You were in the truck waiting. Johnny gritted his teeth and slammed his fist on the hood of the car next to him. Fuck. They were going to have to go through the city without a chair for you. You were going to be near constantly vulnerable.

Johnny gnawed harshly on his lower lip. He could do this. Get you both through. The town wasn't hard. If worse came to worse he would carry you on his shoulders the entire damn treck through the city, you were a good shot. He never worried about not being able to shoot when holding you, you'd never let anything close to him anyways.

He walked back to the truck, picking up the gas can on the way back. Half full. They could make through the city on that, even if they left just on fumes. Johnny poured the contents into the tank. Before tossing the siphon and canister in the bed of the truck. Walking around to get in the driver seat again.

Shutting the door he looks over to find you already staring back at him. You raise a brow. He shakes his head.

"Chairs fucked."

He confirms. You take a deep breath and nod. Clearing your throat you look forward at the highway. You can already see the buildings of the city.

"I trust you. We can do this."

You say. Johnny watches you for another moment, his hand comes over to squeeze your knee. Before starting the truck and driving forward.

{Some fluff before the hell to come. I'm so glad you guys seem to be enjoying this! Definitely got more planned! If you need a hint. The next chapter will be called "Hell and High Water"♥️}

(Tag List: @sadstone-s @lolly145 @mangoguy @kaoyamamegami @waiting-so-long @ikohniik @bossva )

#cod modern warfare #cod x reader #johnny mactavish #cod soap #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw x reader #johnny soap mctavish x you #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #cod soap x reader #soap x reader #soap x you #soap x y/n #disabled reader #zombie apocolypse au

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hogwartsandhawkins · 5 months

Text

Prove Me Wrong

Chapter 13: The 13th

If you need to catchup, here's the masterlist.

Summary: Watching a horror movie with Billy goes better than expected

Warnings: Cursing, Slight angst for a millisecond, Mentions of blood and gore (from the movie they watch), mentions of death (again from the movie). As always let me know if I missed something.

Word Count:4k

Author's note: Sorry this post came late loves! My son got sick so that was fun to take care of. But good news, because I slacked you guys get two chapters this weekend 🤗

Also, as someone who also isn't a big horror fan, I watched this movie as homework and surprisingly, completely straight-faced this entire movie. Guess Billy's right, it was kind of cheesy 😂

Billy climbed his way to Jess’s bedroom with ease this time. With the knowledge that Jess’s parents were not directly below her, he took less care about whether or not he was silent and instead jumped quickly from the trash can to the last quoins, lifting himself over the gutters where he found himself once again in front of her draped covered window. He tapped the glass lightly and was immediately met by a still annoyed Jess opening the pane and quickly walking away. She was now wearing a faded cheer sweatshirt and a pair of cloth shorts. He looked over at the sickly green atrocity that held her TV just above her bed level, the VHS sitting on top of it. Her bed was littered with snacks, some from the store and some that she seemed to have provided herself, Billy taking note of the stack of brownies, which he hoped were as good as last time he snuck into her room.

She seemed to be pacing before he got there and was continuing to do so as he arrived. “Please tell me you’re not serious about wanting to be here for Christmas.”

“Doesn’t really look like that’s up to me. What? You don’t want me over? Where’s your holiday spirit, princess?” Before he knew it, a Charleston Chew bar hit him in the chest.

“For once, be serious. Steve is gonna be there. And I don’t want to deal with the two of you bickering like an old married couple.”

Billy picked up the candy bar and tossed it back on the bed, grinning to himself. “I’ll behave if he does.”

Jess stopped pacing and turned to him. “Right, because he’s the one I should be worried about.” Jess recalled earlier today how Billy purposefully blew smoke in Steve’s face right before successfully irritating Steve with the thought of him spending all winter break with her.

Billy walked over to the side of the bed he usually sat on and pushed the assortment of food to the other side and sat down, kicking off his shoes as he did so. He sucked in his cheek and bit down, contorting his mouth in a downward smirk. “Don’t gotta worry about me, sweetheart. I’ll be an absolute angel. Call it an early Christmas gift.”

Jess considered his promise for a moment, her eyes traveling from his smile to his eyes, which gave off a hint of playfulness but no level of insincerity. “I always have to worry about you,” she huffed before settling down on the opposite side of the bed, pushing snacks closer to Billy.

“That’s cute of you,” Billy teased before eyeing the cans of beer that were at the foot of her bed. He leaned forward and grabbed the pack, twisting a can out of the plastic ring that held it secure to the other five. He swiftly cracked it open and took a swig from it, earning him another annoyed glance from Jess. “What? You want one, Logan?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why? You’re cute when you’re drunk.”

The mention of her being intoxicated began to stir the memories from that last weekend, how she spent the majority of her night with Billy, and how that night ended. She began to feel light-headed from the memory of how close she stood to him towards the end of that song, how she was practically leaning against him for support. She was brought back to reality by the bed shifting, Billy placing the remaining five cans underneath her bed. “Let’s get this show on the road, princess. Not tryna keep you up all night…”

Jess shoved him, making his beer slosh.

“Aye watch it…”

She made her way toward her TV, taking her time to put the VHS in, not in a hurry to start hiding under her covers the whole time. She looked over the cover, “Friday the 13th, The Final Chapter…” Jess scoffed, placing the tape in the player. “Billy, I swear if this is as bad as the first one-“ She was quickly cut off by the tape being played where it was last on, causing Jess to jump at the sight of Jason killing the hitchhiker on the side of the road.

“Oohhh shit!” Billy laughed out, taking another sip of his beer before swinging his legs off the bed and quickly making his way to where Jess was standing. He watched her close her eyes, turning away from the TV as the ominous music played. “Go back to the bed, princess, I got it.” He squatted down, pressing the rewind button on the VCR as he stared down the TV, waiting til he heard a click, indicating it was done.

He turned back around to find Jess already underneath her blanket, the top of it bunched up by her mouth with her hands. He smirked down at her, able to see her eyes squint up at him in irritation. “Don’t worry, it’s honestly not that bad. I chose the cheesiest one of the two. Promise.” He chuckled as he made his way to her light switch, flipping it off, and began to sit back down on his side of the bed, deciding to take a brownie as adjusted himself back against the headboard.

Jess’s glare softened as he joined her on the bed. “You’ve seen this before?” Billy only nodded, turning his head to the side to look over at her, smiling for a moment before looking back over at the screen.

They stayed that way as the movie started, Jess bunching the blanket over her face, Billy smiling to himself as he continued to look over at her, sipping his beer contently. Billy felt the blanket shift suddenly, suggesting to him that the sight of Jason’s hand falling free from the stretcher startled her. He bit down into his brownie and smirked to himself, swallowed, and then turned to look back at her once more. “If it makes you feel better, Logan, we’re not out camping right now so it can’t happen to us.”

“Yeah. Great. Thanks.”

Billy chuckled out loud, looking down at the load of snacks that separated the two of them, silently cursing the barrier as he sat up straighter. He picked up the Charleston Chew that was thrown at him and tossed it on her lap.

“Eat a candy bar, you’ll feel better.”

Jess smiled lightly, grabbing the bar from her lap and slowly unwrapping it, not taking her eyes off the screen, lifting her knees to her chest. Billy continued to look from the snacks to her, watching the way the shifting lights from the screen illuminated her features, the way she cautiously bit into her snack, pausing with it still in her mouth when she was preparing for something that could possibly scare her. He continued to smile to himself as he noticed the way she squinted her left eye more than her right when she braced for oncoming jump scares and the way she slowly began to relax more throughout the movie. When they watched the hitchhiker get stabbed for the second time that night, Billy finally summoned the courage to start moving the snacks.

The rustling of the wrappers being moved made Jess finally remove her eyes from the screen and look over at the cause of the noise. He moved the bags of chips to the nightstand closest to him, along with the baked goods, seeing as he was the only one eating those, leaving the assorted candy bars where they were for Jess.

“What’re you doin’?”

“Making more room.” Billy shrugged as he coolly answered. He then playfully tossed the rest of the candy onto her lap when she didn’t make a move to remove them from the middle of the bed. “Think those belong to you.”

“Yeah, so did those-” She was now pointing at the Doritos that Billy had already moved, but then quickly shifted back her attention toward the TV when she heard a twig snap. “Oh, don’t walk alone…”

“Don’t worry, she doesn’t die. Yet.”

“Billy…” He only laughed in response but stopped immediately when she looked more annoyed than scared.

“Hey, I’m just kidding.” He scooted inches closer to her, the snacks no longer blocking his way. When she didn’t say anything in response, he offered, “You want me to turn it off?” He continued to look down at her, his tone was serious and softer than it had been tonight, which caused Jess to look up at him.

She furrowed her eyebrows at the sight of him and then began to shake her head. “No…” She then looked back at the TV for only a moment, “I guess you’re right, it’s not as bad as I thought it was gonna be.” When she turned to face him again, she noticed the smirk he was now giving her and rolled her eyes.

“See what happens when you try new things, Logan?”

“It’s still bad,” she rebutted. “And by the way. I do watch horror movies. I just don’t like them.”

“Whatever you say, gorgeous.” He then reached for the Dorito bag that he placed on top of the nightstand and moved it to the opposite side of Jess, where it wasn’t separating the two of them, making it a point to reach behind her as he did so. When the chips were secured next to her, he allowed his hand to linger longer than needed before resting his arm above the pillow she was leaning against. He cracked his knuckles nervously, his arm tensing up every time Jess shifted.

Get it together, Hargrove. He cursed himself, attempting to look down at her without her noticing, but she was too busy noticing the way her body burned at the close proximity to his, attempting to free herself from the blanket without making it too obvious it was now causing her to overheat. When she could have sworn she was beginning to sweat, she jumped up suddenly.

“Bathroom…” was all she said, assuming the word would explain itself.

Billy sucked in before clearing his throat. “You want me to pause it?”

“God no,” she laughed out, exiting the room before the TV became too bright and he was able to see the strong blush that she knew currently covered her entire face. Billy chugged what remained of his now warm beer once Jess was clear of the room, hoping maybe it would loosen him up slightly. But unfortunately, he knew it would take a lot more than one beer to do that, and he would definitely like to stay sober while he was with her, at least in her bedroom.

When he heard footsteps reappear in the hallway, a mischievous grin appeared on his face as he got up from the bed and walked to the door just as she opened it, grabbing her hips as he scared her, believing all she would do was jump. When she let out a loud, short scream, however, he quickly widened his eyes and placed his hand over her mouth, chuckling quietly.

“Shit, Logan.”

Jess smacked his chest, causing Billy slowly to take his hand off of her face.

“Dammit, Billy, if my parents heard me…” She was answered by the sound of a door creaking open and the shuffle of footsteps. She pushed Billy further into her room as she stepped back into the hallway and found Stan at the bottom of the stairs.

“You okay, kid?”

“Uh. Yeah. Just watching some stupid scary movie. Sorry.” She looked back into her bedroom for only a moment, but enough to see Billy’s smirk growing on his face.

Stan Logan gave her a strained look, but then shrugged his shoulders and turned away from the stairs, “Keep it down next time kid, it’s the middle of the night.”

“Sorry,” she then turned to look back at Billy before she continued, “It won’t happen again.”

She made it back into her room and shut the door behind her, refusing to break eye contact. “You absolute asshole!” she hissed, picking up another uneaten candy bar and chucking it at him, which he easily swatted away as he laughed, attempting to be quieter.

“How was I supposed to know you’d scream like that?”

“It’s like you want to get me into trouble.” She shook her head in exasperation, but when Billy could only laugh at the incident, it caused her to break into a smile as well, which she attempted to hold back once it appeared. “It’s not funny!” Her giggling, however, said otherwise, and she rolled her eyes once more, plopping down on her bed as Billy sprawled out on his side, now taking the candy that was thrown at him and opening it for himself.

The sound of glass breaking made both of them turn their heads back to the screen as they watched some poor girl get thrown from the top story onto a car by Jason, making Jess cringe.

“So they’re just all dying at once now, huh?”

“Typically how it goes,” Billy answered, biting into the candy bar and quickly swallowing, “Surprised she didn’t survive that.”

“She was thrown out of a window!”

Billy just shrugged nonchalantly, “Eh, the car cushioned her fall.” Billy then turned back and smiled at her, taking another bite.

“The car cushioned-“ Instead of finishing this sentence, she shook her head in disbelief and began laughing even harder. “You’re insane.”

“I’d survive that fall.”

“Sure you would, tough guy.”

Billy scooted his way closer as they continued watching the movie, making the excuse that Jess was ‘hogging the chips’. Jess stopped feeling the need to shield herself from the jump scares and gory scenes as Billy continued to make jokes and ridicule how each character handled the situation, making her laugh as if she were watching a comedy. By the end of the movie, Billy was practically leaning against Jess as he continued to eat more chips than he wanted.

“So what did you think, princess? Not that bad huh?”

Jess shook her head slowly. “No, not that bad.”

Billy beamed at her then tapped her leg with his hand before climbing over her, swinging his legs off her side of the bed, and heading to the door.

“Bathroom’s this way, right?” He asked as he pointed in the right direction.

“Yes, just please be quiet.”

“You got it, Princess.”

While he was gone, Jess took the time to remove the wrappers and crumbs from her bed, getting back under the covers as Billy was reentering the room.

“Alright, Logan.” He climbed over her again to make it to his side of the bed and then sprawled out, laying his head on one of the pillows, “Goodnight.”

“You think so, huh?”

“What?” He then looked at her with feigning surprise. “You wanna sleep all by yourself tonight? I guess you’re a big girl after all.”

“Shut up.”

Billy relaxed against the pillow he was lying on and moved his gaze to the ceiling and quickly changed the subject. “So have you seen the other ones?”

“Just the first one. Like I said, I’m not into scaring myself for fun.”

“You know what that means…” Billy nudged her side as he continued staring up, the solid blue light from the screen softly illuminating the room. “We gotta go on a marathon.”

“That is not what that means,” Jess responded, also settling into bed, lifting the covers so that it barely covered her chin.

“I thought you said it wasn’t that bad,” he teased, shifting his head so he could look at her. Her eyes met his, rolling to the side before looking back at him, peering at him through her eyelashes, making Billy feel as if his chest would explode if he didn’t look away. Despite his whole body pleading with him to turn away, he kept his eyes fixed on hers as he continued. “I’ll tell you what,” he smiled deviously at her, “we switch off. You show me one of your lame chick flicks, and then we’ll watch the first Friday movie, yeah?”

“First of all,” Jess pulled the covers back down to her chest so she could prop herself up with her elbow, “they’re not lame, and second, I’ve already seen the first one.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem to see it again.” Billy continued to stare at her, challenging her to accept. He also moved to incline himself, taking his pillow and folding it in half.

“Fine. But after Friday the 13th, we’re done with horror movies.”

“Unless I make you like them.” Billy widened his smile, opening his mouth a bit to allow his tongue to run along the bottom row of his teeth.

“Yeah right,” Jess scoffed, scrunching her eyebrows in disbelief.

“You seemed to like this one just fine.

“That’s only because you’re-“ She stopped abruptly, not allowing herself to finish that sentence, but when she looked over the expression Billy was making, the way his smile dropped and his eyes squinted, she knew she had to say something. “It’s only because you were making fun of it.”

Billy’s smile returned, but not as wide as it was earlier. “Then I’ll make sure to do the same thing next time.” He winked at her, settling into his folded pillow as he listened to her complain about how much she was going to hate this upcoming movie marathon, and how scared she was to watch the other two she hadn’t seen yet. But he knew better. He had watched how comfortable she had gotten after the first 30 minutes, watched how her shoulders stopped tensing. He liked to think he maybe had something to do with it, or maybe it was just the fact that he did pick the corniest movie out of the two.

He wondered what would have happened if he had picked a different movie, a more frightening one. Would she have cowered under her blanket the whole time? Would she have cowered behind him? He quickly shook the ‘what ifs’ away. He knew that’s not how he wanted this night to go. He didn’t want to be the default guy she cuddled next to, didn’t want her to feel like she had to get close to him. This was the same reason he didn’t fight Steve about taking her home so early into the party. And he knew this was why he chose this franchise of horror movies to introduce her to.

He continued to listen to her talk about all the movies she would make him watch. She figured she might show him the Star Wars movies since he was so adamant about making her watch a franchise as well, which he just scoffed at, but he knew watching some weird sci/fi films wouldn’t be the worst thing ever if it were with her.

They continued changing topics for hours, whether it be about movies, school, and again about California until the conversation moved to the party that was being thrown on New Year’s Eve.

“You’re going right?”

“If Steve goes, yeah.”

“Why does it matter if Steve goes? You didn’t even hang out with him last time.”

“Steve happens to be my ride. And plus, I normally hang out with him. He was just busy last time.”

“Yeah, I saw,” Billy replied bitterly, “You forget I have a car or something?”

Jess looked at him interrogatively, “You’d want to take me?”

“If you need a ride, I can give you a ride.”

“That’s not what I was asking.”

“Sounds like what you were asking.”

Jess sucked in and sighed, folding her pillow in half as well now and laying into it as her eyes started to get heavy. “I mean,” she paused for a moment, knowing exactly what she meant, just not how to say it, “I mean… everyone’s gonna be there. And everyone’s gonna see you taking me to this party. It’s not just you taking me to school anymore.”

“And?”

“You want people to see me in your car?”

Billy shook his head and chuckled sarcastically, “Seems like you’re the one who’s worried about it, not me.”

“No that’s not…” Jess began to backtrack but paused. He was right, she was worried about it, but not in the way that he thought. It was when Billy began to get up that she started to speak again. “What’re you doing?”

“It’s hella late, and I’m falling asleep.” He began to grab for his jacket that was on the floor next to his side of the bed, holding it at his side as he turned to face Jess again. “Look, if you don’t want me to give you a ride, then I won’t, that’s all you had to say. You don’t need to go into some lame excuse about how I don’t want to-“

“That’s not what I meant...” Billy stood there, continuing to look at her, finally shrugging his shoulders, exaggerating the movement as to tell her to keep going. “It’s just. Your friends don’t like me, okay? And I already had trouble when you first started taking me to school and-“

“Who gave you trouble?” Billy quickly interrupted, seemingly unamused by this bit of information.

“That’s not the point nor does it matter…” She sighed one last time, “The point is, I don’t want to be the talk of the school again, especially if your friends are the ones doing the talking.”

Billy took this into consideration, nodding as she finished, he then looked down at the ground, pondering what to say next, and looked back at her. “You know, Carol’s just bitter you don’t talk to her anymore. She doesn’t hate you.”

“That’s not really the vibe I get.”

“So who’s giving you trouble then, because I know it’s not Carol, she talks but she wouldn’t come at you directly. And Tommy really couldn’t give a shit.” Billy tossed his jacket down again and sat back on the bed, folding his left leg under him as his right hung off the edge.

“Who do you think?” When Billy continued to stare at her, just about ordering her to give him an answer with the raise of his eyebrows, she scoffed, “Your girlfriend, that’s who.”

Billy began to shake his head, laughing coldly at the news. “Which one?” he teased before releasing his downturned smirk, “Next time just tell her to fuck off.”

“I did.”

Billy nudged her lightly, conveying his approval. “That’s my girl.”

“It doesn’t make it any more fun though.”

“Getting to tell Jane to fuck off isn’t fun?”

Jess laughed at this, nodding her head in agreeance. “I meant the being talked about part.”

“Yeah, well, fuck ‘em.”

“Is that what you tell yourself? ‘Fuck ‘em’?”

“I’m starting to.” Billy drew a short, loud breath threw his nose, nodding slowly as he turned away from her for a moment. “It took me a while to get there but… yeah. Fuck ‘em all.”

Jess giggled at this statement, relaxing her shoulders at the thought of not having a care in the world of what others thought. “So is that why you’re such an asshole?” Jess teased, earning a snort from Billy.

“Nah,” Billy paused, staring at the foot of her bed, “No that’s not why…” He then tilted his head to look over at her, the light from the screen casting still shadows on her face. He smiled more to himself than at her before lying back down on the pillow that was now partially unfolded.

“I thought you were tired?”

“I am,” he said flatly.

“I thought you were leaving?”

“That’s because I was irritated, and now I’m not.” When she didn’t respond he tilted his head and asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

“No…” she whispered suddenly.

“Good. Because I don’t want to either.”

Taglist: @nix-rose @fandom-princess-forevermore @ooo---hazelgrimm---ooo @axionn @defenslessheart-main @the-lost-are-ignored

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skylarmoon71 · 5 months

Text

Raphael (TMNT 2014/2016)- Oneshot

No one told you that crushing on someone would hit this hard.

When it started it was purely because of your love for the arts. You always wanted to learn to fight. But your parents were protective. To them you were a delicate flower. You grew up a pretty sickly child. So when you were finally deemed a healthy individual, it was a life changer. You no longer had to limit activity or watch all the other kids run around as you stared from the sidelines.

But they were still constantly worried.

That’s why when you met the turtles, of course you never said a word to them. If your parents knew that there were large mutant ninja turtles out there, surely they would never let you leave home.

New York was messed up enough.

The second you realized that these crime fighters were experts in self defense and awesome butt kicking, you basically begged them to help you learn. After your constant pestering, Leo finally gave in. Splinter was sort of happy to have a new little apprentice. It had been a while since he was able to really teach. His sons have grown into incredible fighters.

Excelled.

So for your first day of training, you were decked down in shorts and a t- shirt, ready for anything.

“Remember Raph she’s a beginner so you have to-”

Raph kicked your feet from under you, and you tumbled with a grunt. He just smirked.

“Gotta be ready for anything.”

“Raph!!” Leo protested.

He should have known better than to expect Raph of all people to be a patient teacher. You pulled yourself to your feet, this time ready for anything he was about to dish out.

Since today was Raph’s to teach you, the others were told to look on and give pointers where needed. By the end of the session, you were sore in places you didn’t even think possible. You had a test to study for this week that you had an inkling feeling you would need to cram for because there was no way you would be able to even pick up a book when you got home.

Leo had given you pointers on improvements, Mikey flashed a grin giving you a pat on the back. Donnie slipped you some books to study on to help with technique and form. They’d all pretty much dispersed to enjoy the rest of the day until patrol. As you were packing, Raph was at the side removing his gloves. He caught the slight wince you made as you bent to lift your bag. You caught his stare from the side, and you played it off, straightening the best you could without looking like you were in pain.

“Today was a piece of cake.” You boasted.

Raph grinned.

“I knew ya were tough.”

You turn to him. This was possibly the first time someone had said that to you.

“Leo’s big on taking it easy but sometimes ya need a push. Guess ya aint that weak for a girl.”

He was still wearing that overconfident smile. You knew he was teasing. But it was flattering. Although he was basically taunting you, he believed that you had the ability to handle it. He wasn’t overly harsh today either. He’d applied just enough force that you had to put in effort to retaliate every attack.

“Don’t get ya butt kicked tomorrow.”

He tossed you an ice pack that you caught clumsily, looking at his retreating figure.

Maybe that was the first time that you knew you had a crush on the hot tempered male.

Your sessions continued.

The first few months were brutal. Because of all the inactivity as a child, it felt like you had to fight even harder to catch up physically. But you made it. In the span of eight months, you were just as skilled as the boys. Of course lacking the inhumane strength and crazy awesome build. But you were there.

You were strong. It was a bit comical that your parents had not caught on. When your mother noticed the tone in your biceps, you’d merely told her you were in the gym to stay fit to prevent any issues for the future. She ate it up, so you were in the clear.

Meeting the boys was quite honestly the best thing to happen in your life. You were also very happy to see a certain muscular mutant on a daily basis.

Later that afternoon you were expecting Raph.

You were always happy that your parents finally agreed to let you live on your own. You loved that they cared so much, but you spent too much of your life being treated like a glass that would break at any moment. You sat at the window, waiting for Raph to just swing in. You were honestly a bit happy he hadn’t caught on to your feelings.

If he did, you were scared that these days would somehow just vanish.

“Daydreaming again.”

You lifted your head, and he was just casually standing on your fire escape.

“How do you keep doing that? I didn’t even hear you jump down.”

“Ninja.”

“Of course.”

You stood to raise the window a bit higher so he could climb in, but there was a knock on your door and you stumbled. You grabbed the curtains.

“Don't make a sound.” You said to Raph, shutting the curtains hurriedly.

“Coming!”

You raced to the door. Not even surprised when your mother was on the other side.

“Hi sweetheart.”

She didn’t even wait for you to invite her in and you closed the door with a sigh.

“Are you eating well, taking your vitamins? You know how important that is.”

“I am mom.”

“Don’t give me that look. You know how hard it was for us when you were younger. Being that sick all the time, it was terrifying. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“I know, I know. I promise you I’m okay. I’m as fit as a horse.” You flexed for good measure and she laughed.

“Well that’s good. I just came by to drop some things. Your father has been doing a bit of spring cleaning. “ She placed the bag down, giving your apartment one more look. “

“If you ever get lonely just let me know. Ms. Laine has two handsome boys that would love to-”

“Bye mom!!”

“Okay, okay, I can tell when I’m not wanted.”

Leaving a kiss on your forehead, she waved, shuffling out the door. You placed your head on the door with a heavy sigh. At this point you shouldn’t even be surprised that she’s playing matchmaker.

“Ya mom sounds fun.”

You jumped at his voice, turning and sending him a glare.

“Don’t do that!

He just grinned, moving back to the window, fixing the curtains that had gotten blown around when he stepped in.

“Ya used to be sick?”

It’s a question that lacks the typical Raph teasing tone.

Of course he heard.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, you had no choice but to tell him.

“I had a heart condition. Doctors said I wouldn’t live to see fifteen. My parents were scared every time they looked at me. When I finally got the transplant I thought I would feel normal but they are just more overprotective. When I started college last fall I had a little more freedom. I wanted a chance to prove that I wasn’t weak. Then I met you guys.”

You smile as you both stare out at the sunset from your spot next to the window. You climb up, sitting there comfortably. Raph moves to your side, doing the same.

“You were the first person who ever told me that I wasn’t weak. Who never looked at me like I was some kind of fragile glass. You believed in me.” Your eyes shift to Raph’s and he takes in the way your eyes sort of sparkle.

“Thank you for believing in me.”

He looked down after a few heated seconds.

“Don’t go getting soft.” He grumbled.

It was cute how bashful he was being.

As you both sat on the window sill, your eyes shifted to his hand. This was possibly the closest you’d been to him with just the two of you outside of training. Swallowing your doubt, you reached over slowly, placing your hand over his. You could feel yourself blushing, and Raph became tense at the touch. Your heart was hammering against your chest. If you could take a million harsh tumble for eight months, you could tell the person you were crushing on how you felt.

“I..like you Raph..”

It was barely above a whisper.

Raph just stared for a while.

He shook it off.

“What, like ya got a crush on me.”

He let out a laugh as if he didn’t really believe you and your face scrunched up in irritation.

“D-Don’t laugh, I'm being serious!!”

He shook his head.

“Come on, quit messing with me.”

He pulled his hand away and nudged your shoulder. Your frown deepened, and you turned, jumping back into your bedroom. When you were safely inside, you shoved Raph out the window. He let out a yell, grabbing the edge just in time before he took a tumble. It wasn’t that bad a fall. You knew that.

“What's the big idea!!”

He pulled himself up the ledge with one hand, climbing inside.

“G-Get out I don’t want to see your stupid face!!”

“What the hell are you so mad about!”

“I poured out my feelings and you sat there and laughed at me!!”

He had to admit, your pouty face was cute.

“Stupid jerk.” You grumbled.

From your expression, he knows you’re upset. So he decides against teasing again and he just asks this time.

“Ya really mean it.”

“Of course I did, do you think I would just say something like that?”

You were mad, but when you look at his expression, that seems to deflate. His expression added to a steady increase of your heart rate. He took one step, and you could have sworn you almost stopped breathing.

“Ya sure ya know what you’re getting yourself into.”

You swallow.

It appears you did not.

“I-I’m not scared of you, remember. We’re equals.”

You’re far from equal.

Raph has crazy mutagen running through his veins.

“We are.” His words surprise you.

“I know I got a clear advantage, but ya strong. Don’t forget that.”

You can’t believe it. He’s actually praising someone other than himself.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Just take the compliment!!”

You smile.

“Thanks Raph.”

He turns with a grumble.

“Whatever.”

This crush might be a work in progress.

#raph #training #donnie #mikey #splinter #care #brothers #humor #raph x reader #bayverse tmnt #crushes

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viciouslyyearning · 1 year

Text

Fuck it big beefy cecaelia named Akos supremacy

I'm specifically having thoughts about little differences between him as a cecaelia (octopus merfolk, tentacles instead of a tail and in my thoughts literally 2x the size of regular merfolk) and his darling lil mate the very much handsome merfolk that is you! Flowey and shiny tail and half his size! There have to be things between species that he'd have difficulty with!

Like... Say for merfolk, intertwining tails between a mated couple. It's the biggest display of vulnerability and comfort and trust cause your inhibiting yourself from swimming if you gotta GTFO! And it's very close physically some close friends or family might wrap around towards the tail fin but there's still freedom to move if ya gotta but mated couples (romantic or platonic tbh) wrap their tails as much and as closely as they can.

Akos doesn't have a tail. You do.

He'll find you staring at his tentacles while you're lounging in his cavern, tail flicking lazily with this silly smile as you're -what he can assume- daydreaming about something.

It isn't until he reads more on merfolks courting habits specifically that he realizes why. And he's both a bit heartbroken that he can't do what your fellow merfolk can with you but also absolutely beaming with pride and just so much love that you might even be thinking about him in such context.

It isn't until you find the slate he had been reviewing the topic on that he finally confesses his thoughts. Once you realize he knows what it means, you easily reply that you've already figured out a solution.

When you hold your arms out to him and give the simplest demand of "Hold me." Happily, he wraps his arms around your upper body, the quickest of his inky black tentacles circling around your tail as they always do. It isn't until you laugh to yourself that he begins to question what you're thinking.

Once you point out how his tentacles wrap around your tail, all you have to do is easily swirl your tail in similar motion and you're effectively intertwined.

Akos stares at your tail curled around his tentacles for a few moments before letting out a Shakey breath.

At your sudden concern he just breathes in relief and tucks your form back into his. He worries so much that you might miss out on something you'd find in a relationship outside of him. It just scares him but he won't admit it.

I also like to imagine that cecaelia have certain habits of their own, such as longer resting periods and higher intake of food. A creature twice the size of his mate might not notice that whenever he prepares a meal he gives them a portion as big as they are, or that every time they sleep together, they'll settle down with him certainly but always have something to occupy their time as he holds them and falls asleep, and once he awakens again they're already awake and fiddling with something else.

Once Akos finally does notice he begins to ask if you're feeling well. In his eyes you hardly eating or sleeping and that's not good.

He almost ignores your desperate "I'm fine!" For a full day, instead doting over you as if you were sickly. Once you finally make him realize,

One: you can't eat everything he gives you because the portion is bigger than your tail most days and your stomach just isn't that big, neither is your second stomach.

Two: you require far less sleep than a far bigger predator, your light and quick and don't burn as much energy hunting or swimming as opposed to him, so you'll happily lay with him every time you both rest but you can't sleep as long, you'll just keep waking up

Then he finally listens and calms down, just differences in species figuring it out and making it work I live for this shit

#x reader #mermay #akos my beloved #monster x reader #cecaelia x reader #merman x reader #monster lover

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gaybananabread · 29 days

Note

Ooh Lego Monkie Kid? Don't mind if I do!

Do you have any headcanons for the Stonefruit Trio (MK, Wukong, and Macaque)?

⁠☆⁠—⁠⁠LMK Stonefruit Trio Tkl Headcanons—⁠☆

~Sorry this took me so long to get to! School is finding new ways to kick my ass every day istg- ANYway, it felt good to write for these goobers again! Thank you for requesting!~

🍜Mk🎧

General:

Sunshine boy is definitely a big fan of tickles. Laughing at just a few touches, bonding with his friends, watching them let their walls down for the sake of silly happiness? Yeah, count him in.

He likes both sides, though being tickled does have a special place in his heart. He’s a lee-leaning switch, but not by a whole lot.

He can only say the t-word on special occasions (extreme confidence, other lers/lees in it with him, drunken boldness). 98.71% of the time, he’ll go beet red at the attempt.

Lee:

When he gets lee moods, everyone around him will know. He can sometimes just ask for help if it’s someone who’s used to his silliness, like Red Son or Mei, but other than that, it’s tacit signals.

He’ll run a hand through his hair a lot (exposing his side in the process), get way more fidgety than normal, speak in a higher pitch, and very nonchalantly stare at his friends’ hands. Not that hard to get the message.

Kicks, flails and squirms when tickled. He really tries not to, but his nerves pretty much go nuts. It’s best to pin him or get him from behind if you don’t want an accidental bloody nose.

Worst spots are his navel and lower back. He absolutely loses it whenever anyone so much as pokes there.

Melt spots are his palms and shoulders. Tickly massages and palm kisses leave him a puddle of giggles.

Really bright and bubbly laughter when you get him going. When it’s light, lots of little squeaks and half-hearted “no!”s

Ler:

Sickly sweet while also a teasing mother-trucker. If you think that’s confusing, imagine how the lee feels-

The sunshine boy definitely has a fiery side, so watch out

“You’re ticklish here too? Seriously, this is adorable. You’re adorable.”

“Holding it in, huh? I think it’d feel a bit nicer if you let out that laughter. Don’t you?

“So many good spots, so little time… Guess I gotta get to work!”

“Your blush is so pretty! I think I’m gonna paint my nails that color…”

He’s incredibly considerate of boundaries, even if you’re obviously okay with it.

Checks in wherever you seem to be laughing a bit too hard, though you’ve only just got done giggling. It’s smart to set up a safeword so he actually does know when to keep going.

Confident lees will love him. He’s easy to fluster if you can say the t-word enough times, and he nearly dies if someone confidently asks him to tickle them.

An aftercare master. He makes whatever your favorite drink is, gets snacks, makes a cuddle nest and just hangs out with you. If you’re not big on touch, he’s fine to just watch some YouTube videos and chill out.

🍑Sun Wukong☀️

General:

We can all agree that he’s a straight-up switch. Loves wrecking people, adores being reduced to a giggly puddle of mush.

However, he refuses to admit any of that

He likes the feeling of being vulnerable around his friends, but the thought of saying that is terrifying for him (again, good luck getting him to say that. The great Monkey King allegedly has no fear)

Lee:

He’s giggling like crazy before you even touch him.

If you even give a small hint of what you’re gonna do, get ready for him to run.

When you do catch him (he will eventually let you), he curls up like a pill bug and rides it out. If you mention his tail wagging, he’ll let out a string of adorably squeaky profanities.

His actual laugh is a lot less obnoxious than his “Monkey King” one. It’s bright and bubbly, full of squeaks and the occasional snort.

His worst spots are his ribs and his lower back, specifically the base of his tail. Good luck keeping him still if you go there.

Melt spots are his ears and hips. His hips are a bit of an obscure spot, but he will dissolve if you trace them.

Once you’re done wrecking him, he becomes a cuddly, sleepy little mess. Be ready to stay with him for at least an hour afterwards.

Ler:

He’s such a chaos goblin I swear-

Loves the “Tickle Monster” trope. He can and will use his power to make clones of himself and/or shift his appearance for optimum tickle-ability

If he’s the one doing the tickling, he can say the t-word. This is a power he always abuses.

“The Tickle Monster’s gonna getcha, kid! Better run~”

“Oh sorry, couldn’t hear you through all that laughter. Did you say ‘keep going’? Perfect!”

“You know, I could stop, but where’s the fun in that? I think you can agree, can’t ya?”

“Your laugh is so fun! I could listen to it for centuries… But I think I can settle for five more minutes.”

It takes him a bit, but he does try to check in and see when you need a break. It’d be a nice idea to set a safeword or a clear tap-out beforehand, just in case.

He’s actually really good with aftercare. He makes the best lemonade tea, and he’ll attempt to make a good snack. Just watch out for any of his “inventive” cooking/baking methods.

🎭Macaque🏮

General:

He acts like he hates it. If you don't know him all that well, he'll seem genuinely done with it.

If you do know him, however, he has tells. The way his tail twitches when the t-word is said, the way just a hint of pink settles on his cheeks, the way his arms just barely clamp to his sides…

Yeah, he's not as slick as he thinks.

Prefers being tickled most of the time, but he isn't afraid to wreck a bitch just because.

Lee:

He will fight and deny it until the day his immortality runs dry, but he loves it.

Until you actually start, he'll act like he doesn't want it. Kicking, hissing, running, the whole nine.

The minute those wiggling fingers touch down, though? He melts.

All protest disappears, the only thing close being small “no”s through his laughter. His tail will wag adorably (be careful if you mention this).

He could just shadow-travel away, but conveniently “forgot because of the literal torture” he was experiencing or “couldn't focus enough” to do so.

Worst spots are his knees and his back. Him and Wukong share the infamous I-will-die spot at the bases of their tails, though this boy's is significantly worse.

Melt spots are beneath his chin and his ears. It is the cutest thing to just scratch beneath and hear his little purrs while he tries not to giggle.

Ler:

Puts his villain experience to use

He'll use his shadow travel to sneak up on you/cheat in a chase. Nobody said he had to play fair…

He definitely makes clones to help himself. One to hold your arms up, another to grab your legs, and a few to get the more annoying spots.

Teasing in a playful-yet-asshole sorta way. If you're feeling shitty, he'll be such a sweetheart, but he's a shit 80% of the time.

“Wow, ticklish here too? You're just a walking tickle-spot at this point.”

“You think this is bad? Just wait till I call in the cavalry~”

“It must be hard, being this ticklish and all. How have you survived so far? Thought you'd have laughed yourself silly.”

“Just a few little pokes and you're down for the count. Would suck if some of the villains found out…”

“Worst spot, huh? Better buckle up~”

Somehow knows exactly when to stop every time. You don't even have to say anything: he just knows.

Masterful aftercare. He honestly loves cuddling with his lee afterwards, so you're getting some unless you specifically tell him no. He'll send a shadow clone to go get you a drink and some snacks if you want. Peaceful music listening and most likely a nap (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

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captainschaos · 1 month

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ran late on this, but my last and biggest writing for @mcyt-aro-week! day 6: coming out / found family & day 7: free day!

just some really fun fluffy writing for the big ol polycule of a household I like to rotate in my head, a bunch of aromantics, queerplatonics, and family <3 really a very self indulgent writing but truly that's gotta be the point of it all yayyy ^_^ (includes joel, lizzie, cleo, bdubs, etho, and tango btw)

[ao3 link] words: 3002

(I'm also including a longer pronoun reference for this one since I use a lot of funky ones. like I said this piece is self indulgent LOL) Lizzie: she/her Bdubs: she/he Tango: he/it Cleo: she/they/rot Etho: he/she Joel: she/he

-/-/-

Lizzie felt quite lucky to have such a splendid garden behind the house. Full of life and fresh fragrances, light and color, it was truly an environment with instantaneous spirit-lifting effects. And even better- she’d built that!

Well, not exactly. She can’t take all the credit.

“What’s all this!” Bdubs exclaimed.

“Hm?” Lizzie peeked around the corner from the garden bed she’d been working in, and spotted Bdubs at the bed over. She was biting his lip, frowning down at the leaves he was inspecting.

Lizzie stood and made her way over to look over Bdubs’ mossy shoulder.

“Just a little dehydrated, isn’t it?” she said.

Bdubs’ frown remained persistent. “I’m not sure.” She looked up at Lizzie with those enormous eyes of his, head tilted just a little bit, questioning. It was very cute. “Isn’t the color a bit off for that?”

Lizzie had to work very hard to steer away from those beautiful brown eyes to look back at the sickly plant. “Hm… you might be right. I still think it could just be thirsty though, and that’s definitely easier to fix! So maybeee we just give it extra water for a few days, and hope it goes away?”

Bdubs immediately burst into his hearty laugh, and Lizzie found herself giggling along with her.

“Oh, yes~” he said in that funny way she did. “If we pretend it’s not bad soil or something then surely it will be so!”

Lizzie laughed, and brushed her knuckles over Bdubs’ cheek before stepping back to the plants she was working at. “Exactly!”

Bdubs’ gaze seemed to linger on Lizzie for a moment, smiling dopily, but she quickly hopped up and headed back toward the house. “Grabbing a watering can it is~!” Lizzie blushed just a bit, but quickly got back to work in the garden bed.

Lizzie liked this way they went about their… crushes, no use beating around the bush. Not having to hide it, but they had both agreed they didn’t feel the need to make it a standard kind of romantic relationship. It was for fun, more than anything else.

There was something very freeing about being the only two alloromantic people in a house of aromanticism, surrounded by webs of queerplatonic and otherwise non-standard relationships, when considering a thing like theirs. Both of them had their marriages, Lizzie in a happily constructed romantic relationship with Joel, and Bdubs the happy queerplatonic partner of Cleo, but they were also both very aware of their feelings for each other. Those feelings didn’t go much deeper than fluffy romance for the two of them, but the underlying friendship and their security in the net of other dedicated relationships around them meant they could feel just fine about that.

Funny thing about aromantic ideas, they’re actually a lot more freeing for everyone.

Bdubs pushed open the back door to the house, stepping into the mudroom behind the kitchen, singing, “I’m home~!!”

“You were in here 15 minutes ago, moss man!” Tango snickered from where he stood by the sink.

“And that’s a long time for people to miss my beautiful face!”

Tango set a sparkling clean bowl on the towel that had been laid on the counter beside the sink. It seemed the phoenix had ended up with the dish duties for the day. “Of course!” He murmured the next part under its breath, with a teasing twinkle in its eye, “would have liked another five minutes of peace and quiet though…”

“HEY!”

Tango burst into laughter, setting down the sponge as he flipped to face Bdubs, leaning back against the counter as he clutched his stomach. “Oh, it’s too easy!”

Bdubs put her hands on her hips, expression split between an offended scowl and a suppressed grin. “What’s easy?! Being- being rude!?”

With a last huff of laughter, Tango took two fresh towels from a drawer, and tossed one to drape over Bdubs’ face in a gentle attack. “Making you mad, mossy. Come help me dry, will ya?”

“Hmph!” Bdubs’ voice remained angry, but his big eyes were smiling when she pulled the towel off his face. “Only because I’m so nice. Unlike some people.”

“Yeah, yeah. Grab that pan.”

The two of them fall into an easy rhythm in moments, only the soft clatter of stacking dishes interrupting the comfortable silence. It’s like that with them, the teasing and ribbing flowing as easily as simple, undemanding company. Partners of the same partners, that’s kind of how it settled. There was something rather reassuring about the metamour relationship for them, where they knew what the other liked because they knew what they liked themself, a kind of mirror of affection. Maybe in a world where they hadn’t found themselves colliding from shared orbits, they would have run into each other on their own and filled the gaps. But probably not. It was too comfortable like this, why would they change anything? Held in proximity by the people around them, and happy to do so.

The drying was done in just a few minutes, and Tango giggling at its own last joke at Bdubs as she stepped back out into the garden, watering can in hand. The phoenix put his hands on its hips, surveying the now clean kitchen. Seemed everything was done here, so now to decide what to do next…

The phoenix jumped and let out a very manly squeak as a loud BANG sounded from upstairs.

“I’m fine!” Cleo’s voice followed.

“You sure?’ Tango shouted up, already hopping up the stairs two at a time.

“Yep, I’m sure! Just don’t come u-”

Whoops. Too late. Tango had already pushed open the door to Cleo’s workshop. In its defense, the zombie ought to have known he’d come running at any scary sound.

There were bronze feathers scattered across the floor, and a life-sized figure in smooth, blank clay laying awkwardly on its side. There was some kind of contraption wrapped around its torso to cling to its back, mangled wiring in two flared shapes. Wings. A few of the bronzed feathers hung from these outstretched tendrils of copper, still swinging from the momentum of the crash, and a few splinters of clay were still spinning where they’d shattered from the elbow that had taken the brunt of the impact when the statue fell.

“Turns out, wings are a real pain to balance!” Cleo said, shooting Tango a flicker of a smile before kneeling to gather the feathers that had come to a stop at rots feet. Tango’s own wings readjust as it kneels to join her.

“Wait, was this-?”

“Yeah, it was for you, silly,” Cleo cut him off with a chuckle. “Or of you. Something like that.”

“Whah! Wh-” Tango made a series of strangled sounds as his hair started to flare up, golden flames flicking to frame his flustered expression.

Cleo laughed even more at that, and began to teasingly shake one feather at it like a disapproving finger. “I do nice things, Tango! Don’t be so surprised.” But their smile betrayed that there was no real hurt.

It wasn’t everyday that the two of them did things like this for each other, but it also wasn’t rare either. Tango and Cleo exchanged the occasional gift, went on the occasional date, all in a platonic sense but certainly with gestures generally associated with romance. Their relationship was more based in much smaller gestures, like huddling up together when a storm had them on edge, or holding hands on the walk to stressful adulting business. They were founded on that kind of comfort, and it occasionally, naturally for them, bloomed into these kinds of things. They’d been jokingly called girlfriends enough times for them to be able to laugh about that kind of thing, so sure! They were “just” friends, but also did dating things. Why not? But it still managed to make Tango’s wings puff up with happy embarrassment about gestures like this.

Cleo particularly liked getting those kinds of reactions from Tango. As she watched the phoenix stumble for a response to rots jabbing, they laid a hand on his shoulder briefly. “I’ll forgive you for the rudeness because you helped clean up though.” They rubbed her thumb over his shoulder quickly before letting up and walking to the desk in one corner of the workshop, where rot very gracefully dumped all the collected feathers. Tango followed and did the same, finally seeming to recompose itself to jab back.

“You’d better! I gotta say, bangin’ around up here with a surprise, not even with the door locked? Rookie mistake on your part.”

“It was meant to be locked!” Cleo exclaimed with a playful pout. “I told Etho to lock it when she left a minute ago.”

Cleo then registered the footsteps that had been passing by a few seconds ago, but were now halted outside the room. A very quiet voice piped up. “I thought I’d locked it.”

Tango exploded with laughter as Cleo banged open the door, laughing too hard to even pretend to frown at Etho. His own eyes were smiling though behind her mask.

“Foiled! You have to help me fix it then, since Tango already took cleanup.”

Etho leaned over to peek into the room, eyeing the contraption on the back of the statue Tango was currently standing back up.

“Sounds fun, actually. You were having trouble with the balancing, yeah?”

“Yeah, extra limbs are always hard. And attaching the feathers is more of a puzzle than an art, really.” Cleo stepped to the side to let Etho into the room, and began to actually assess the damage to the statue. “I’ll need to patch up that elbow too… I’ll need fresh clay.”

“I can grab you some,” Tango offered.

“You’re my hero, that’d be lovely Tango.” The phoenix nodded, and hopped to the door, pausing in the frame before ducking out of sight and down the stairs.

“Coming right up!”

So Cleo was left to look at Etho while he looked at the statue.

“Well?”

“I would have thought that’d do the trick, honestly,” Etho began. “It looks even enough, particularly over the leg positioning.”

Cleo chuckled and stepped to stand beside her, crossing rots arms as rot assessed the structure. “Well, that’s what I’d thought too, but,” they gestured to the bits of clay shattering on the floor, “boom.”

“Yeah… not ideal, huh?”

“Nope!”

“Hm… have you tried anchoring it with some kind of extra plating?”

The two of them were quickly caught up in flowing discussion, as natural as water rolling downhill. Didn’t even have to think about it, they clicked so well, and ideas seemed near-telepathically tossed between them. They were built on understanding, like that. It’s why a partnership worked so well, why they were home to each other. Who cared if Etho was a good kisser or any of that, it was never a thought that crossed Cleo’s mind, or vice versa for the fae to think about the zombie like that. They didn’t have to think much about their relationship at all past the few establishing conversations they’d had about it, it just fell into place. They understood each other, in ways no one else did. If that’s not what “queerplatonic” was for, then what was?

After several minutes of this, Tango returned from digging through closets and storage chests with a package of fresh, soft clay, and Etho took a step back as Cleo reached out for it.

“Thanks, Tango!”

“No problem!” The phoenix glanced between the two of them. “You guys get it figured out?”

“I think so,” Cleo mumbled, already only half-focused on conversing, hands now occupied with smoothing over the clay patch on the statue’s elbow. It made Etho chuckle, noticing the way they stuck rots tongue out between her teeth just the tiniest bit in focus.

“I think rot’s got a handle on it now,” Etho said. “I’ll leave you to it Cleo.” The zombie’s focus broke for just a moment to shoot him a soft smile in silent thanks, before turning back to work. Tango seemed to be settling in to chat idly while she worked, but Etho turned on heel and headed downstairs.

There was a breeze coming in through the open windows near the front of the house, and it drew Etho toward them. She found herself wandering into the living room, where he picked a seat near one of the larger windows, and-

“RAH!”

“Joel!” Etho exclaimed with a laugh as he suddenly found one of the house’s two brown and green folk on top of him. Not soft enough to be Bdubs’ mossy form though, and the shout was definitely Joel’s. If it wasn’t for the sound and feel of her, though, Etho wouldn’t be able to identify him through the pile of person on top of him.

“What Etho, you stuck? Fallen into my trap? Seems like I win, Etho, if you give up that easy!” Joel was managing to poke one finger into Etho’s ribs with each sentence, so Etho started working on detangling her arms to poke back.

“I didn’t tap yet!” After a second the fae managed to grab what seemed to be Joel’s shoulder and tug him to the side, so the smaller figure was tucked somewhat into the spot in between the side of the armchair and Etho’s body. Somewhat. She was definitely still halfway on top of Etho, with one of Etho’s arms pinned behind him, but at least he could see Joel’s overly pleased grin now. “There.”

Joel pushed at Etho, partially readjusting and partially for the continued fight of it. “You’re pinching my leg, Etho.”

“Well whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” Joel said with a smirk. Etho flicked her ear.

“Okay, sure! Says the guy that jumped on me.”

But as much as they were poking at each other, verbally and physically, neither of them were really trying to get away from the other. They just needed an excuse, of course. For the closeness, for them to be able to sit like this- and the wonderful thing was, they always found it with each other. The both of them had old problems with putting up walls, with their reputations seeming to push out any room for moments of weakness, but all it takes is one excuse to knock those down. Double Life’s soulmate bond, of course, but past that, little moments like this. For whatever reason, it was able to override any protest their proud minds might make. This was a sparring match, clearly, so they could relax and be fulfilled by the contact and presence of the other. And there was fun in the game, and a kind of admission of love under Joel caring enough to “attack.” At this point, they’d broken the walls down enough they were far more comfortable with the casual and sweet, but there was still such a power to these kinds of interactions. The ability to completely ignore any kinds of social rules, and just lay on top of each other in a chair that really didn’t fit them.

“What are you two doing?” Lizzie piped in with a chuckle as she appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and living room.

“I’m winning,” Joel said, beaming as she reached back to poke Etho’s ribs another time to demonstrate. “See?”

Lizzie shook her head as the grinned at the sight of them. “You’re going to break that chair.”

“Joel might,” Etho said, which Joel of course repaid with an elbow to the gut. “Ow!”

“He might fall out of it, if nothing else.” Lizzie glanced to give Etho a friendly wink. “You can give him a good shove, I won’t tell.”

“Hey!” Joel shouted as Etho started to slowly push her in a way that would roll him over the chair’s arm and onto the floor if kept up. “You’re my wife, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I mean, I think being your wife is the perfect reason to want to see you pushed onto the floor,” Lizzie said with a last giggle as she turned away from the doorway. “Love you!”

Joel suddenly found himself on the floor. “Love you too.” He pushed himself up to sit criss-cross, and crossed her arms to match as she glared up at Etho. “Can’t believe you’d team up with my wife against me.”

Etho giggled as he peered down over the armrest at Joel, propping his cheek up with one arm against it. “Let’s be honest, I could get anyone in this house to team up to get you.”

Joel huffed, but not quite in an annoyed enough fashion to cover her own giggling. “Yeah, you’re right.”

And she was. Across the web of relationships stretching through this house, there were a million little reasons for anyone else to join in on the fun, to feel comfortable enough to get in on the teasing without worrying about anyone going to far, to have affection worth demonstrating in such a way. Because Joel may have been married to Lizzie, but Lizzie was kissing Bdubs, and Bdubs was linked up to Tango through partnerships with Cleo and Etho, and Joel was tangled back up into it through each unique, inescapable connection. None of them were the same, but they were all built on this household. This house, safe and vibrant and alive as it was, shared by all of them, connected all of them. It was a messy thing, all the complexities and relationships that didn’t fit in boxes or under labels, but it was their family of a strange sort. The people who were havens of safety, the place they’d built to just exist together, comfortable and happy. Far from conventional, always a blur of interwoven interactions, but at the end of the day, dinner was usually at six, and everyone would have a bed to sleep in at the end of the night.

What more could you expect from a home?

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m0nost4tic · 4 months

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someone's gotta hear me out here;

octopath traveler ii apocalyptic au.

it has SO MUCH raw potential, no matter which route you want to take for it.

soooo.... prepare yourself for a ramble on potential ideas. do keep in mind i divided it up by sections only after writing most of it though 💔

-- general concept //

i've mentioned the idea to a handful of friends, and most of them assume i mean an apocalyptic au placed in a more modern setting. that in itself is interesting and a whole other concept to explore, but what i've *really* been thinking of is one set in solistia.

at first, i wanted to use the stereotypical zombie virus. but when i further thought on it, that wouldn't really make sense in ot2's context. i mean, yeah, it could be a situation like castti's - but how would a mutated virus tie back to an overlooming shadow the same way trousseau's poison does?

there were a billion different ways to create or sever that tie. the virus' mutation could have been caused by the darkness, or the virus itself originating from a creature of it, or something else among the lines of that. i couldn't really settle on just one solid idea - until i remembered osvald's final chapter.

osvald's final chapter features people who are "possessed" by this shadow magic. they are unable to speak and appear violent to *some* extent. plus, after you're able to free them from this trance, they seem to be unaware of what had only just taken place.

in addition to this, while playing the game, you have a set chance of encountering a monster who looks *just* like one of the others, save for its darker palette and shadow-themed battle scenery. this also appears in ochette's final. and temenos' final, when that magic mutates kaldena into some sort of monster? AND the darkblood blade causing a similar instance with mugen?? ANDDD the dark akala/mahina for ochette's final???? and not to mention trousseau using "poisonous shadow energy" to cause fatal illness. the perfect set-up for a zombielike concept is literally all RIGHT there

-- hikari //

HOWEVER. using the shadow as a direct cause of it brings up a few questions that need solving. if we go with a "the last of us" sort of concept, where the people who are infected are *alive* but serve as "hosts," then what would that mean for hikari??? there's a bunch of different ways to explore that. would he technically be born infected and, therefore, have partial immunity?? if so, how would his infected state affect not only him but the other travelers as well??? i imagine it functions pretty similarly to the original curse, maybe with a few sickly symptoms?

i think one of the key differences with hikari and other forms of the shadow is sentience. with the people from osvald's ch. 5, they're reduced to just making animalistic sounds in place of speaking. in hikari and temenos' finals, both mutated versions of bosses have a VERY limited speech pattern and seem to entirely lose themself. in ochette's story, it afflicted animals. on the flip side, when it comes to hikari's curse, we have this shadow within that can speak and think for itself. while it is a possibility this sentience is limited because most (if not all) of what it thinks about is violence, it's perfectly capable of interacting with people (...if it ever wanted to without hurting them)

so...maybe it wouldn't act like the other infected whenever hikari loses control of it? but it probably still has a strong lust for blood. PLUS, being that this is set in an apocalyptic setting, being around violence is going to be an incredibly common occurrence. hikari'll have to be dealing with it. a LOT. i feel like at some point the other travelers start to notice that something's up, depending on which representation of the curse you wanna go for. like, if it's just partial infection immunity, hikari could be bitten at some point, start feeling a faint bit sickly, and everyone's grieving and preparing for his loss, and then...it just. doesn't happen. or, if you wanna go for something like the shadow being recognized as something similar to the infected, there could be an instance where hikari is struggling against it, and the infected they were in the middle of fighting charge toward him, set to attack, and— then they just walk around him, as if he didn't exist at all. this would probably act similar to the whole smell disguise thing in the walking dead or like the zombies ignoring the ill in world war z

-- throné //

the shadow's relation to the apocalypse would also raise a few questions for throné. for instance, if this widespread infection is marking the beginning of vide's return and the end of time, what would this mean about throné being a 'vessel?' what about her own blood ties to d'arqest (and the ones she shares with hikari)?

since throné doesn't have 1-to-1 interactions with her dark ancestry (the shadow), i wouldn't go quite as far as hikari's concepts. like, i don't think she'd be immune to them. buuuuut, as she was born as a potential candidate as vide's vessel, i can see her being better at handling the infected. maybe it'd be something like a heightened sense or intuition of their actions. there could be more of an understanding that's beyond just empathy of the tragedy. after all, these things are technically vide's creation, and she's not so far off from being considered one too. i wouldn't go off into fantasy land and say she can talk to them or something, but i can see her predicting some of their behaviors. if they ever try to sneak up on the cast, both because of her assassin/thief history and this trait, she'd be the first to notice them and spring into action-- even before they're actually near the group. it's like a feeling of paranoia except, most of the time, it's true

ochette could perhaps possess a similar ability (though not quite the same) due to the orign of the beastlings, and because of her being basically pure light LMAO. even vide couldn't find a way to corrupt her

another note- i feel like traveler stories relating to vide would be much more rooted in cultism than they were originally. you've probably seen films or shows of post-apocalyptic scenarios. cults spresd FAST. and, speaking of which...

-- the moonshade order //

THESE GUYS. eugh i both love and hate them sm i'm gonna throw them

anyway. so, in this version of what i'm describing, the only main world change is the timeline order. long story short, these guys managed to pull a lot of the big bad strings way back, maybe even before some of the travelers were born (glances at agnea) but i haven't fully arranged it out yet

ALTHOUUUGH, as we know, there are circumstances that were only capable thanks TO the travelers. (ex. kazan using the ku civil war to retrieve the blade). i think this is EXACTLY why vide has yet to fully return. maybe they've managed to get 2 or 3 of the flames out (i'm not completely sure which ones are possible and which ones aren't. i'd have to look back at it later... it's currently 12 am at the time of me writing this, so there's zero way i'm checking atm </3). in this csse scenario, i see this like a weakening on the seal, and hence, allowing for the beginning of the end to start

otherrr than that, post-apocalyptic, i see them functioning as a cult. ..well, they technically already are, but a more influential one. like, let's take kazan, for example. he would definitely use the apocalypse as an opportunity to 'advise' the king and general mugen. ...iiiin other words, basically manipulating them.

!! subsection about ku because i rambled a bit //

since ku's so war-heavy, after the kingdom falls (and, geographically wise, they'd likely be one of the last standing), i envision them having a survivor group ran by the royal family. kazan would use the chaos and conflict to paint himself in to a higher, more influential role in this group. as hikari would be pretty young when the apocalypse began, i can picture kazan becoming his mentor in this au. he'd probably speak to hikari and other people of ku about vide and the end of the 'cruel and ugly world' and such, and, because most people are willing to listen to just about anything in this stats of emergency, they start believing in it, too. maybe not as deeply as kazan, but it might influence them in behaviors or habits, like serving to only worsen ku's war-thirsty nature or people of the group beginning to adapt a more "ah, well, it is what it is. this cruel and ugly world will end soon anyway" mindset

also, on kazan mentoring hikari, this would definitely be another manipulation tactic. enough people of ku know about the curse (and, in mugen's case, about hikari's mixed ancestral bloodline) for it to be expected that kazan is fully aware of it. i wouldn't even be surprised if part of the plan was to use hikari to, at last, fully free vide. orrr, maybe kazan treats hikari as if he's vide's intended vessel? either way, this would cause much deeper rooted psychological problems for hikari. like...ku's violence meter probably went WAAAY up due to the stress and panic of the apocalypse. and then you add in the blackouts associated with the shadow within that he's not fully aware of until adulthood. and also a lot of the similar event sequences to his original storyline.

i just really quickly fetched a few small hypothetical concepts i sent to a friend about post-apoc ku late october;

" hikari's upbringing would therefore likely have a lot more of kazan's involvement in it, as well as all those bad behaviors.

ofc, just like he strays from his family's history of violence in canon, hikari often strays away from the path kazan tries to set up for him. he disagrees with all the violence and a good amount of the questionable behaviors clan ku exhibits

in facctttt

one idea i had for this version of ku, was that they sometimes keep others hostage for bargaining, torturing for information, cult-like related reasons, etc. but this would be pretty rare because ku would fucking murder most of their hostages

there was one scene i imagined would perhaps make a tie between him and another character (most likely partitio due to ku and oresrush's proximities)

in this case, lets say there's been a group near their area that they've been struggling to "sniff out," and they finally happen to find one of the members of that group. if this was as a tie to partitio, then this would likely be one of his friends - nikki, joe, maybe even alrond, etc.

young hikari realizes he's roughly the same age as the hostage and, ofc, feels super fucking bad. and hence sneaks out at night to bandage the captive's wounds and maybe try to free him

during that whole interaction, i imagine him saying something along the lines of "it's okay," offering out his hand to show the bandages and his intent to help, "...i'm not like them."

if/when he frees this person, kazan would definitely have the suspicion it was hikari and eventually find the evidence it was (likely through manipulating hikari to spill), and young hikari would get *a ton* of shit for it

to mimic a lot of things that happens in hikari's story, another thing i did sort of want portrayed was his mother's death;

but i thought it more similarly to a twd character, where his father clings onto a zombified version of her (and this could serve as another reason for the occasional captive and excessive bouts of manslaughter)

until, one day, she's found fckin dead. wound indicates a sword to the head and all. hikari personally felt a sort of peace with the fact, because he saw it as her *finally* being allowed to rest properly. he knew and recognized that the walkers were anything but human, and while they once were, the person they were before was most definitely *gone*. (hence he'd be the type to go out of his way to put an end to walkers that're trapped or hung, because he wants those people to finally feel a sense of peace instead of being trapped in whatever sort of hell that was. if the shadow was to have a big hold on him, it would also contribute to this sympathy because he'd *know* some of the hell they'd gone through)

....however, the rest of clan ku would *not* see it that way and treat it as an assassination. and that's another pointer to hikari that things around him are kinda lowkey fucked up

....and because of the way he viewed it, and him being young and not yet really knowing that view was VERY frowned upon, a lot of the clan ends up thinking he was the one who carried it out. henceee more of the shit hikari receives. the shit w/ jin mei would also be connected 2 this "

!! back to moonshade //

mindt may cause something sort of like that among the church, or be able to spread the word of vide under the disguise OF the proper church of the sacred flame. people are 10x more likely to listen to official clerics instead of some rambling lunatic, right?

okay i'm getting too tired to keep writing tjis it just turned 1 in the morning and i didn' sleep yesterdah. 😭😭. i MIGHT come back and revisit this if anything else comes to mind!!!! most of my thoughts have pertained to hikari and thr ku kingdom, so if this post somehow manages to pique anyone's interest at all, i'm really open to hesring any ideas you might have for any of tje travelers or ot2 chatacters! orrr any input about things i've already thought up. i really wanna find some way to implement ships into this too but i haven't gotten to think on it much. i'm personally a sucker for partikari, castthroné, and knightlight/crimenos. but also just relationships in general, like the close-knit friendship between throné and temenos. .....this is making me realize how much more thinking and planning i have to do 😭

ps i'm newer to tumblr so i'm sorry if the formatting in this is god awful💔. i wanted somewhere to rant about my silly little slow work in progress apoc au in the middle of the might and thought you guys would be best suited lmfao

#octopath traveler 2 #i really just spent like 2 or 3 hours typing all of this on my phone instead of sleeping #god i'm so ill about ot2 actually #hikari ku #octopath #alternate universe #throné anguis #kind of. she's mentioned #octopath traveler ii #this is so hikari centric atm #my bad guys #its the illness getting to me again /j

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simper-maximus · 1 year

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Courtiers Headcanons Yoo

Thoughts are flooding my head, here is me draining it out even though I have no experience in writing.

Now, warning: I only finished Lucio's route so these could contain inaccurate information. Since I basically know most of the story from memes. Oh well.

Today's topic is bodily functions and other slightly disgusting stuff. Enjoy.

Volta

➼Overall there is a common headcanon (or maybe it's canon? don't remember) that the courtiers do not need to eat, and thus have no bodily functions overall.

➼In my opinion, while that is mostly true, it only is to an extent. They don't need to eat, but if they do, you better believe it has to come out too

➼With that being said, Volta, with all her eating, practically lives in the loo

➼The first month when she got to the palace and became the darling lil procurator we know, she was overjoyed by being fed whenever she felt like it

➼(Which is basically all the time because everyone though of her as some sickly victorian child wannabe) (And hey, gotta feed the workers)

➼And at first everyone though it was because her scrawny body was just getting used to the now normal food intake

➼But nah she just had no control over herself and would go full sneaky mode and eat five cow's worth of food a day whoops

➼So the cooks and even Nadia got concerned

➼Why is this precious baby always running to the bathroom?? Is the food contaminated? But everyone else is fine??

➼They took her to the head doctor, darling Valdemar to check for allergies because what if she is lactose intolerant? Or has gluten problems?? They can't risk losing their most accurate poison check worker

➼This obviously annoyed the other demon because damn it, WHY couldn't Volta just chill and at least TRY not to raise attention?

➼In the end Valdemar prescribed her some fake pills and got her her own bathroom. Problem solved, nobody is suspicious now

Valdemar

➼Another headcanon I see often is that their shell of a body is fused with their clothes, basically making it part of the disguise

➼Yeah, no

➼They work with blood and other non solid waste that could stain their clothes

➼If those clothes were fused with their body it would make it sooo much harder to keep it clean

➼Not to mention anything could get stuck in that delicate fabric. Geting all up in the nooks and crannies

➼Good luck washing it out if that is the case. They'd have to throw their whole self in the washing machine

➼That being said they have a normal body under the uniform, and take daily showers even if they didn't get particularly dirty that day

➼They do however use those very old block soaps that makes your skin texture feel sticky in a way too clean sense. Either that or the strongest one they can find. Doesn't matter that it makes their skin dry as hell

➼That being said their skin is unbelievably dry all the time. Please put some lotion on them

Vulgora

➼HOW are they always so sweaty

➼Maybe definitely that is the reason they are always so angry all the time

➼How can you thrive in an environment where your foes keep getting away because of your slippery body, huh??

➼Brings Vlastomil to shame

➼The Vesuvian temperature doesn't help one bit. Therefore this demon loves the winter, despite claiming to dislike it because "the colors don't go well with their outfits"

➼They definitely tried the "pads inside your clothes" lifehack to lessen the damage. Don't ask where the pads came from

➼Also those facial oil remover rolls? They got like four in each pocket

➼Weirdly cares a lot about skin care though, so they often brag that the oils are the cause of their baby soft skin

➼You could not find one (1) pore on this demon's face. And of course, everybody noticed that

➼They tried to profit off of this, and sold some wacky "skincare scrub cream" to the civillians. (For the purpose of buying some sick weapons with the cash of course) Didn't work. Had to wait for a whole generation to die off to escape the shame

➼So how does their makeup never get smeared? Don't ask an enby their secrets~~

Vlastomil

➼He, like Volta loves a good feast and always joins in whenever he can

➼However he hates when fish is served because it reminds him that worms are often used as bait to catch said fish

➼Glares at the palace aquarium as he walks by

➼He is probably the most normal one of the bunch

➼Doesn't have to deal with anything extreme

➼Good for him honestly

Extra: Valerius

➼He is slowly starting to go bald but admits it to no one

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lampmanliveblogs · 1 year

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GAH!

Not gonna lie, this did kinda spook me.

It got worse!

So Hunter is opening a package with a book about witch hunters from Gravesfield in the bathroom (the most natural of places to do so). He looks up into the mirror and sees not his own reflection, but the reflection of Caleb the witch hunter, the man he was made to resemble. He then sees Philip the witch hunter staring back at him. His own face finally flashes in the mirror and he recoils in horror, finding that he resembles them all too much.

Of note is that Caleb here looks pretty different from other depictions we’ve seen of him (which, to be fair, are not that many). His cheeks are sunken in and his eyes have dark bags under them. He looks sickly.

…almost as sickly as Philip, which I think is the point.

(in the shot where Hunter falls over, you can spot a scar on his ankle)

I was so distracted by how cute this was that I almost didn’t notice that Hunter’s face scar completely disappeared. Our boy blushing so hard the animators forgot one of his most important facial features. Is this animation error, or symbolic of how support from the people you love can help heal the wounds of abuse? You make the call!

I also notice a lack of toothbrushes on the basin and cabinet.

I feel like I should clarify that I don’t point out these continuity mistakes to be mean or complain. I do it because I think it’s a little bit funny.

And because the last screenshot of Hunter wasn’t embarrassing enough, behold this in-between masterpiece.

You guys know I don’t like to rush, but I gotta agree with the kids here, getting back to the Demon Relam is a top priority. The sooner Hunter gets back to the Demon Realm, the sooner Darius can officially adopt him and give him a new wardrobe, because my Titan does he need it. The shirt with the shorts with the crocs with the gloves, I can’t-

(i spy the hexas hold ’em cards on the new portal door assembly)

Vee is warning Luz not to eat it because she spotted broccoli. Because, as you all know, broccoli contains a chemical that makes it taste horrible to basilisks. At least there’s no garlic in there; garlic is one of the biggest allergens on the Boiling Isles after all, due to a large percentage of witches having vampire ancestors. Amity has a severe garlic allergy, for example. Luz was horrified when she found out. One piece of garlic bread, and it meant no more kisses for the rest of the day.

#the owl house #liveblog #the owl house liveblog #toh s3e1 #thanks to them

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hermesserpent-stuff · 1 year

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so... i mentioned a dream i had last night about my spidersona and so i decided to take the motivation to draw and write out ideas. Ill put it all under the cut cause its a bit long and goofy.

First things first. Not in New york. This takes place in a city more akin to richmond. or some other southern city. Not too big, not too tall, and near enough to tobacco that that is something that is thought about.

second things second, gotta clear this from my chest. Bitten by a beetle. A Lasioderma serricorne, aka Tobacco Beetle. Agrioscorp was developing and presenting pesticides to use against such creatures. Martha, our tiny hero, was there for a school project about crops and bing boom. Beetle that the pesticide was supposed to murder actually didn't murder the beetle and it gave the magic bite of powers.

Name: Martha Anne Taylor

Hero name: The Dynamic Tobacco Beetle. or Baccy

Alignment: HAHAHHA she watched too much a-team, red dawn, and Smokey and the Bandit growing up. while respectful, she does not see the system as the end all be all and often tries to talk to her villains. Drags them to a good meal.

powers: Climbing walls, super strength, enhanced senses, immunity to certain toxins, can digest less nutritious food (like rotten food) with no problem, good at riding horses (not a power... .. .)

toolkit: rope shooters, ginger cinnamon molasses cookies to offer villains. Armor (the dark brown bits under her jacket)

weaknesses: Cold!! gets slower and slower as she gets colder. at 39.2 Fahrenheit (4 °C) she passes out. she learns to layer pretty fast. Homemade Biscuits and iced sweet tea. offer those and she'll be distracted enough for you to go commit crimes

age: 16ish.

backstory: Lives with her maternal grandpa after most of her family was killed. by hurricanes. :/ dang. Her grampa runs a horse carriage service within the city and she helps care for the horses in her downtime

foes: mostly based on tssm versions. because beloved. BUT we have some changes and some dynamic shake-ups and name changes because.

vulture-> to Falcon (Adrian Toomes): He is an old inventor whose work has been taken over and over and he is done. Osborn (like in tssm) took his design and this was the breaking point. Hes bent on revenge. and Baccy is bent on getting him to calm down and eat a Snickers. eek.

Tinkerer( Phineas Mason): Owns a technology repair store and has underground dealings in tech that the store acts as a front for. Quentin lives with him due to him owing Quentin's deceased parents a huge favor. Quentin used to live in new york city and had to move with tinkerer down south.

mysterio-> Mysterium (Quentin Mason nee Beck): Northern City Kid who feels pretty out of water. Goes to the same school as Martha. They end up as pals. but that's a complicated story.

Tombstone: similar to tssm. crime lord. of a relatively small city so its a bit easier. Also!! Baccy cant go in his office. He keeps it too cold. He has no idea that's the case. She leaves notes on his window to threaten him. Like cut out letter ransom notes. He leaves some in reply on occasion.

---

other people ive thought about:

Ella Osborn is the sickly daughter of Norman. She can do some things but tires easily. Very easily. Martha is a tutor for her, as she is mainly homeschooled. it gives her a chance to interact with other kids her age. Not by her parents though. There are people they can pay to do it instead.

#spidersona #hermes speaks #spider oc #hermes art #digital art #world building #tobacco beetle au

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candyredappledragon · 1 month

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Very late Palentine's post

( long post ! Also, it's just kind of awkward writing, but that's better than nothing! x) )

The weather was fair and nice as usual in the terrarium. There were a couple of students there having picnics and bouts of laughter, and they were heard as it was carried through the wind. Kieran looked around, passing by somewhat familiar faces still holding onto Florian’s hand. He was nervous- no, he was absolutely just downright anxious but tried to keep calm and collect doing breathing exercises to help. They were heading over to where Crispin usually hangs out during his league challenge.

As they approach their destination, Kieran looks at the group in surprise, especially seeing Drayton there too. It’s tough getting him moving out of the club room, even having to make him move even an inch just to do something unless it benefits him to take a small nap. The elite four group was sitting at the picnic table and waved at the two as Florian returned it as well, but Kieran was pretty shy to do it. It’s been a while since he has seen them personally. The teen felt guilty as if he was intentionally avoiding them during the time he was in the academy. Well, kind of avoiding them. He just doesn’t like being in the club room.

“Hello you two! I’m glad you guys can make it.” Lacey said happily, clasping her hands together in a cheerful demeanor.

“Yo!” Drayton gave a small salute to the two as a greeting and grinned at Kieran. “Well, well, long time no see, little buddy!”

Kieran gives a meek wave at Drayton. “Y-yeah it’s nice to see you guys...”

“Please sit down, you two! Would love to hear your guys’ story about being together as a couple, hehe.” Lacey motioned at the empty spots of the picnic table with a smile.

As the group settled and had some laughs, Crispin stood having his trusty pan on one hand. “THIS GOT ME PUMPED UP! I gotta whip us up something spicy to make it more fun!”

Kieran gulped nervously. Oh boy, that's the last thing he wants to eat. He can already feel his mouth going on fire even though Crispin hasn’t even started cooking! Florian gave Crispin an awkward grin, feeling the same for Kieran. He can take a bit of spice, but Crispin’s spice tolerance is a whole ‘nother level of fiery pain.

As Crispin was about to get fired up with his cooking skills, a figure ran into him, knocking the teen flat to the ground. All Crispin could do is yelp out in surprise as it happened in such short notice.

Kieran looked at the person in question with a confused look, only to notice Florian making a face that is unfamiliar to him yet made him cower a bit in fear.

“Oh my gosh!! Florian,” The girl fixed her hair a bit and dusted herself quickly. She looked at Florian and batted her eyelashes at him innocently. “Didn't see you there—”

“Cut that shit out, Reina. You're here to battle Kieran, huh?” Florian glared at her.

“Hmph and so what? I'm battling him to win over your love, and this time, you will only be mine.” Reina replied, her tone all sickly sweet. Kieran shuddered at that.

The girl looked over at him and then walked up to Kieran, jabbing at him with her finger at his chest. “Just so you know you can't run away from this battle. It's all or nothing, you cowardly Wimpod.”

“Reina cut that out—”

As she was about to do another jab, Marshadow appeared between them and slapped her hand away, looking at her with anger in its eyes. Kieran looked at them in surprise as Reina held her hand in comfort as she was greatly injured by them.

“Urgh! Whatever! Get ready to taste defeat and suffer being alone again, loser.” Reina huffed in annoyance and then smiled at Florian in a cute innocent manner. “Do not worry, my love. I will get you back from this freak.”

“Yeah– no, that's not happening.” Florian rolled his eyes.

“I will make it happen, Florian~.”

The Paldean teen shook his head as the girl skipped away to get ready to battle. He turned his attention to Kieran and held both of his hands gently and in comfort. Kieran flinched at first but slowly mellowed out, realizing it was Florian with him. There was worry in his eyes clearly, and honestly, he was scared. Scared of losing the battle, scared to be alone, scared to lose Florian at most.

But deep inside Kieran, he wanted to prove himself that he's not weak anymore. He has come a long way in his life. It was somewhat difficult, but at the same time, the end result was worth it. Kieran doesn't want to give up, not yet and not ever.

“Hey,” Kieran tilted his head a bit at Florian as the other spoke. “just so you know. Even if you don't win, I'm never going to be with her. She doesn't know me. The me that is now in the present. She's stuck in the past and is still in her fantasy land.

And, obviously, when you do beat her. I hope this snaps her out of it in one way or another. Just seeing her is a constant reminder of who I was in the past with her and my old friends. Someone has to bring her out of the past and make her face reality. I know this is me asking too much, but you're the only person here that can do it.”

Florian let out a weary sigh. “I'm sorry about all of this, but she sees you as an obstacle between me and her. So if you are able to—”

“Florian.” Kieran closed his eyes in thought, then opened it, looking at Florian with a small smile. “It's okay. It's not really your fault. If anything, I will try my best to defeat her for you and for her, hopefully.”

The Kitakami trainer looked over at Marshadow as the ghost Pokémon gave a nod to the kid. “Besides I think Marshadow here would love to have some words with her Pokémon pfft.”

“Remind me to get some extravagant treats for this little guy.” Florian chuckled, Furret chirped loudly as to say he deserves a treat too. “And this lil bugger too.”

—

As Kieran prepared himself to battle, Furret climbed onto his shoulder, chirping a bit. He pats the furry Pokémon in thanks to keeping him company as he readies his pokeballs.

“Get ready to lose everything, brat! I will make you regret ever meeting and stealing my Florian from me!” Reina spat at the boy.

Kieran flinched at that, yet he brushed it off quickly. He sent out two of his Pokémon first: Marshadow and Whimsicott.

Reina looked at the two Pokémon in front of her and almost hesitated on sending out her two first Pokémon but quickly got over the feeling she was experiencing and sent out Vaporeon and Cinderace.

Kieran looked at her Pokémon in question. What an interesting setup it was.

—

As both sides battled their hearts out, Kieran only had two Pokémon fainted as Reina was down to her last two Pokémon.

She first sent out her Flapple while gushing about it. Kieran had to do a double take on the name she gave to the Flapple. Florian. The Paldean teen sighed in disbelief while facepalming in the background as Drayton pats the teen’s back in comfort.

“Surely I can pull this through! Zapdos don't fail me now~.”

As she sent out the legendary Pokémon thunder boomed as a shrill cry was heard. Zapdos looked at Kieran and his team with a glare. The boy gulped in fear yet held his ground.

He's going to switch out his Pokémon and finish this once and for all.

“Come back, Dragonite!” Kieran recalled him and sent out his beloved Hydrapple. The hydra Pokémon heads let out a unanimous cry as the leader stared down at the Flapple and Zapdos.

“You'll need some rest too, Grimmsnarrl.” Kieran recalled him as well, his hand hovered over Marshadow's pokeball, and funnily enough, the trainer forgot he caught them with a loveball. He didn't really pay much attention to that detail but realized it. It's endearing to him in a way and somewhat fitting at this moment.

The loveball shook as if eager to battle. Kieran nodded at it and grabbed it. “Come on out, Marshadow!”

The mythical Pokémon let out a cry and flared up a bit. There's really nothing to lose here, and Kieran felt confident for once. It's been a long time since he experienced this feeling for battles.

The two trainers locked eyes at each other and then shouted out commands.

—

Hydrapple charged up its Fickle Beam and went all out on the Flapple, knocking it out right away as both Zapdos and Marshadow traded blows, causing each other to faint.

As the dust settled, Reina fell down to her knees on the ground as she meekly recalled her Pokémon to their respective pokeballs. She tenderly held the pokeball that had Flapple in it and started sobbing.

Kieran stood there slowly, realizing he won the battle. The Furret chirped happily, congratulating his trainer, but was taken aback as Kieran started walking up to Reina.

He stood in front of her as Hydrapple was behind him just in case. “Hey, you really battled hard.. but it's time to let go, you know.”

The girl looked up at him as her eyes filled with so many tears. “W-why are you still being n-nice to m-me. I was s-so nasty to y-you.. Yet despite everything, y-you are still k-kind? E-especially to m-me? Why…”

Kieran scratched the back of his head in an awkward manner. “I'm not a horrible person y'know to just make fun of you or anything at your weakest moment. Though I hope you can change yourself for the better.

I fought with everything I got thanks to the people who genuinely loved me or cared about me. They helped me be the person who I am today. So…” Kieran did a small bow to her. “I hope you also get to experience that well and in a healthy way too.”

Reina sniffled as she gently wiped away her tears from her eyes. “I.. can see why Florian chose you. I-I'm sorry.” Reina got up and dusted herself off as Kieran stood up straight, looking at her eye to eye. “I-I'll just go…and thank you for being a kind person, Kieran.”

The Galarian girl walked away as Kieran and the rest watched her until she was no longer in their sight of view. The Kitakami teen turned around as he was about to let out a sigh of relief and was met with a hug from Florian. The boy squeezed the other tight, burrowing his face into Kieran’s shoulder.

Kieran didn't know what to do but returned the hug to Florian. “Uhh.. are you alright, Florian?”

There was a few seconds of silence as Florian finally let go and had a smile on his face. It was soft and warm. Kieran felt himself melt inside, seeing his boyfriend have such a radiant smile.

“Yeah I'm good.. I'm just happy that you never changed your kind self despite everything being thrown at you. It's pretty admirable, you know.”

Kieran started to feel shy as he started to play a bit with his hair as his eyes lit up with glee. “Ah uhm thank you…”

Crispin walked up to the two and had tears in his eyes. “Kieraaannnn I knew you could do it!!! Dude, you looked so cool too! Like wow!!”

Kieran blinked at him in surprise, now getting more shy from that compliment.

The other elite four members walked up to the three and started talking, then proceeded to continue on with their Palentine’s hang out as the air was once more filled with joy and laughter.

#rotomblr #text post #Palentines day #candyappleshippingau #long post #// UHHH HERE IT IS I GUESS.#// Enjoy?#// Time to do a clean up though! So yes there will be a timeskip. About a month later.#// Because Kieran was touching grass. ( He just wanted to relax after everything lol ) So he's never up to date with everything going on.#// “never” I MEANT NOT*. He's just confused. El oh el

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kryptonitejelly · 2 years

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Currently can't get the image of Jake taking care of u when ure sick or down.

I can see him bringing u a bowl of soup in bed, feeding u and all that. You tend to push him away when u get like this, for one u don't want him to catch what u have, but also because u don't like being seen at ur weakest. He doesn't care, obviously, and he just takes good care of you. If you're being honest with urself, it makes you very emotional. To think that you finally have someone to be comfortable with, feel safe with, yeah ure definitely emotional.

Also, don't imagine him showering u with bunch of forehead kisses and head massages 😀

Ahahaha i'm definitely not saying this because im stuck in bed, YET AGAIN. Turns out I get a fever (not like the bad ones) or my body just feels like it's burning from inside out, whenever i feel suuuper tired. Could kill for Jake to take care of me rn tbh. ALSO DW MY MOM SAID ITS AN INHERITED THING APPARENTLY??

inherited???????? come here now, i’ll fix you

he’ll MAKE THE SOUP if he has time - fitting into my hc that jake can cook (although maybe not fancy stuff) because with a body like that you gotta be able to cook…

but yes, 100% - he would shower you with all the forehead kisses and head massages in the world if you are sick 🥺 if you insist in lying on the couch to feel like a bit more of a person, and not a sickly blob in bed, he’ll have you put your head in his lap and massage your head / run his hand up your shirt to rub your back.

when you try to push him away, he’ll just sigh and be like “darlin, i don’t care if you have germs” and kiss you right smack on the lips, but gently because you are sick, to prove it (jake is a CHILD, don’t fight me on this) and scoff that they won’t get to him but can you imagine if he falls sick after - he would become this whiny little baby. all men are when they are sick!! and if he finds out that it is because you don’t want him to see you at your weakest, he’ll probably just be super puzzled - and to lighten the mood, and because jake is jake (he is always inappropriate to some degree), he might say something smart while bringing his face super close to yours, like “sweetheart, the number of times i’ve made you cum just with my tongue, don’t you think we are past that now?” but he’ll kiss you soooo sweetly on the forehead after that you’ll just let it slide and grumble and let him take care of you.

#i hope you feel better soon #<333333 #sending you love #and jake vibes #ilysm baby #kissin you!!!!!!!!!#not cm #k talks #asks #d!#jake seresin #jake seresin thoughts #jake seresin hc #jake seresin x you

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argentnoelle · 1 year

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Kira is Light Yagami’s Excuse

(read on ao3) The central interpretation that Death Note puts forth is that Light was just a teenager, an accomplished student who had everything going for him. He couldn’t handle having screwed up massively by accidentally murdering two guys, and ended up being non-magically corrupted by the power to kill. “Kira” is the name given to Light’s acts of murder by the general public. After quickly taking this in stride, thinking of Kira and Light as different entities explicitly allows Light to disassociate himself from situations that make him uncomfortable, as well as hype himself up with ideas about how grand his story is. You can see this actually happening in the early parts of the manga quite a bit.

During the Lind L. Tailor broadcast in chapter 2, L says to Light, “what you are doing... is evil!!” to which Light responds by completely flying off the handle. “Me... evil? I am righteous! I’m the hero who’s liberating people from fear. I’m the savior who’s going to be like a god of this perfect new world! Those who try to fight me... they’re the evil ones!!” and he unwisely writes down Lind L Tailor’s name and then gloats about it. “Now we’ll see what happens to those who offend Lord Kira.” By chapter 3, you have Light’s listless reaction to the epic fight between L and Kira that’s now in all the papers; he describes it to Ryuk as “take one step out of the house, all you hear about is L and Kira. You can’t avoid it, even if you want to... I guess it might be pretty interesting if I wasn’t Kira.” But after describing the stories that are in the papers, the radio, and TV, his dialogue changes to “if Kira pays too much attention to this stuff, it just stresses him out. Gotta give his mind a rest, once in a while.” When Light gets too close to the truth (being suddenly some kind of supervillain celebrity in a fight to the death with some shadowy entity “L” who has already figured out basically where he lives is stressing him out) he has to step back by not only framing his stress as a hypothetical, and his listlessness as logical, but also by putting the whole situation off onto “Kira” who has now in the space of a paragraph become “him” instead of “I.”

In chapter 3 you get another fascinating moment. When Light goes to the abandon building to practice his pyrotechnics, he talks to Ryuk about the danger he’s realized that the Death Note poses to him. “Until now,” he explains, “I was thinking if anyone in my family saw [the Death Note] I could explain it by saying I’ve been keeping notes on the Kira case, to practice becoming a detective...” but now that he knows that anyone who touches the notebook can see Ryuk it’s an entirely different matter. “Even without this headache, I’m walking on a tightrope here,” Light admits. “If I blow it... Kira... will have to kill his own family.” As he finishes his little speech the panel zooms out to see that Light is holding onto the Death Note with a sickly, uncomfortable look on his face, almost curled in on himself. He’s visibly sweating—not just one sweat drop to indicate discomfort but “shaking and sweating” levels of this is probably meant to be taken literally. Ryuk’s figure in the background looms over him, but Light feels trapped in this moment, stuck in his own head. It’s such a fascinating image, compositionally and in what it says about Light’s mental space. And it’s in the dialogue too. Once again, Light has used this conversational technique to try to distance himself from something unimaginably horrible to him. “If I blow it...” he starts, but he can’t finish it by saying, “I will have to kill my own family.” He can’t say that. He can’t even think it. No, “Kira” will have to do that. Kira will kill Kira’s family. But only if Light blows it. So Light has to be very, very careful. It casts Kira as an inevitability. Something that will just happen if Light fails. Light has no power over “Kira’s” actions. He washes his hands of the matter. In fact, he washes his hands so spectacularly that in the beginning of chapter 4, where the scene continues, he’s able to make a joke about Sayu having a heart attack just from seeing Ryuk’s face. The emotional minefield has been successfully sidestepped. “Kira” has the responsibility for all of Light’s unforgivable actions, “Light” can remain himself.

By chapter 22, when Soichiro affirms that L—who has found and accused Light of being Kira and is at this very moment sitting right next to him—is indeed L, Light has an internal panic which ends with him having to remind himself, “right now I’m Light Yagami, concerned about my father...” By this point in the manga, Light has gotten himself so deep into acting as Kira, and so many of his daily decisions are caused by whether it would make him look suspicious or not, that it’s his identity as “Light” that he has to consciously reaffirm.

The dichotomy between what Light’s two personas allow is perhaps never so well articulated than in the moment in chapter 32 where Light tells Ryuk, “Ryuga is Light Yagami’s friend. But L is Kira’s enemy.” Despite getting along well with Ryuga on a personal level and playing into the idea of them being friends in his ordinary life, Light is fully aware that L is and always has been trying to kill him, and their contrasting personas of “L” and “Kira” cannot both survive—it’s only a question of who will kill the other one first.

So if Kira is an excuse, then why does the Light we see in the first half of the manga, and the Light we see in the Yotsuba arc, feel so diametrically different? There’s a number of reasons. One is that, in the first arc, we’re given privileged access to inside Light’s head. We see his internal monologue, his plans, his occasional moments of weakness and doubt, his moments of triumph and despair—we’re like Ryuk, able to be up close and personal on the villain protagonist. Then, Yotsuba arc rolls around. What we see now is Light’s public face, and a lot of stuff about Yotsuba. Light doesn’t appear as much in this section—and when he does, we see much less of him. While we’re still occasionally given access to his inner monologue, much of what we see is him in silence and what he chooses to speak out loud to his father and coworkers and L. He’s also not the protagonist of this section. Yotsuba!Light doesn’t drive the story. He reacts to it. Even Misa has more moments of agency in this section than Light does. It makes for a profoundly different reading experience, and so the emotional image painted for the reader in the section is also going to be different. Light won’t feel like the same character not because he changed so fundamentally, but because we, the readers, changed position; and because Light is also in a different position. We’re seeing him from the outside, from a remove, in a situation where all Light can do is wonder about a truth we’re already aware of. For argument’s sake, imagine if the Yotsuba section had also been told with Light as the protagonist: we would have seen moments of him alone, moments where we learn about his reactions to being chained to L; we’d hear about his plans. Maybe L would interrogate him in private, and Light, who thinks he’s so innocent but who knows how bad the evidence looked, would have to react to this. There are ways to write Yotsuba arc where Light is still the main character, but that’s not how the story is being told. The plot of Death Note is about Kira (who happens to be Light Yagami). It has no interest in Light without the Death Note. Light without the Death Note is a plot device created by his previous self.

What we do see, in small glimpses (and it usually is “see”—the art shows more of Light’s interiority here than the writing does) is that Light is not as comfortable and confident and unruffled as he wants to project. In the background of panels, you see him react in all sorts of interesting ways. He also punches L in the face and has one of his most interesting speeches of the entire arc, which is enough to build an interpretation off of: “Don’t be ridiculous! Just because I’m not the true Kira... just because you were wrong, you want to give up?! You gonna sulk like a baby?!” He’s so mad at L.

L tries to explain that he just means that chasing after Kira doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere in the investigation so it might not be the most logical course of action, but Light can’t hear that. He’s still stuck in his emotional reaction. “Who’s the one who swore to send Kira to his execution?” he presses. Then he’s leaning forward, grabbing L by the shirt, like he’s going to shake him. “The police, the FBI agents, TV announcers, how many innocent people have been victimized?! You’re the one who put Misa and me in confinement!!” That’s the crux of the matter. Earlier, Light had said that Kira killing people was bad enough but he’d never forgive him for what he’d done to Light and Soichiro. Now you see what Light will never forgive L for. Getting locked up for fifty-three days.

There’s something really fascinating about this. The Light we saw in part 1 was a Light who was slowly being backed into an inescapable corner, but who had the hope that he would somehow win. The Light we see in the Yotsuba arc is one who still has the hope that he’ll somehow win, but he’s already suffered a defeat that the Light in part 1 could never even conceptualize. He’s been tortured. And he’s still technically a prisoner. Casuistor wrote the most amazing meta ever about Yotsuba!Light and his motivations, Hellscape. It’s the most in-depth I’ve ever seen someone discuss that version of him. As Casuistor says:

So to summarize in brief before moving onto an analysis of Light’s development during the Yotsuba arc itself, we have at this point a Light Yagami who feels as though he has he has endured a terrible injustice. He has spent the past couple of months accused of heinous crimes ranging from the deaths of thousands of criminals to potentially patricide. His integrity has been repeatedly attacked and slandered, and any defense of his own character that he has to offer is routinely disregarded. Light is his only advocate and naturally he feels quite seriously persecuted. [...] In fact, in direct reaction to bearing the weight of these accusations, Light becomes determined to prove he is not the monster people accuse him of being, and his actions during the Yotsuba arc very much reflects this desire to prove that he is a virtuous, moral and overall upstanding human being. What’s interesting is that this desire to prove himself is not just external. He wants to prove it to himself as well. This is not a driving motivation that Pre-Kira Light ever feels the need to act on; he knows and everyone else around him believes he’s a good person. Pre-Kira has nothing to prove; Yotsuba-Light has everything to prove. In fact, if Yotsuba-Light actually has more in common with Kira-Light than he does with Pre-Kira Light.

What Casuistor goes through beat-by-beat is how everything Light does in the Yotsuba arc is to shore up a certain image of himself and protect the idea of him as innocent, and to make sure that L can’t find anything else to pin on him. Anyway, there’s far too many good points in that analysis to go into, but...

The handcuffs themselves are interesting to talk about because they have different meanings to the people they connect. On the surface, it’s meant to represent the promise to catch Kira together. Not in the roles of investigator and chief suspect as was the case previously, but as equals. Two brilliant minds dedicated to the same purpose of putting an end to Kira.

But the grin reality of the situation is that even though Light’s own wishes are to stay and work on the case, Light has no choice but to stay because he is literally handcuffed to a person who will not release him.

But what’s interesting about this is that as shown in that panel above, Light chooses to speak of being chained and having his freedom restricted in sugar-coated euphemistic language. With a new solid lead on the Kira case, Light believes there will be a day when he can make L see that the handcuffs won’t be necessary. In a sense, the handcuffs represent Light’s promise to himself – they are something he can be positively motivated by. This is Light’s personal promise to be proven innocent instead of a sign of his continued imprisonment.

To an extent, this trick of shifting the framing and context makes it possible for Light to achieve a truce with L.

I would add only one thing to that really great discussion. Casuistor has a fairly non-romantic (in all senses of the word) take on L & Light’s relationship. And I think it’s a pretty legit take with a good basis in canon. Light & L really have no particular reason to be friends or to like each other and plenty of reasons to hate each other, be irritated, and get on each other’s nerves. But I take a slightly different interpretation in that think that Yotsuba!Light, despite all his barely-hidden resentment towards L, completely believed that he enjoyed L’s company. I don’t think those things are incompatible for Light to feel, and in fact I think Light has a very pressing psychological reason to convince himself that he enjoys L as a person. Because he can’t leave, and if he admitted that to himself all the time he’d be confronted day in and day out with the idea that he’s nothing but a victim. From the beginning of canon, we see Light reject any interpretation that hinges on such a thing. Anybody might say that Light finding a random notebook and then seeing that actually, he killed people by accident and now a god of death is going to follow him around until he stops being interesting at which point that god of death will kill him is enough to consider Light a victim. Not Light, though. Light is obviously a god. Light is obviously chosen for higher things. Light is obviously just doing all this because he wants to.

The relationship between Light & Ryuk and Light & L is really rather similar in some ways.

So that’s where my interpretation splits from Hellscape, (which anyone who is interested in Yotsuba!Light or what exactly the whole amnesia thing was should read, it is so awesome). Yotsuba!Light is L’s friend and he is perfectly a-okay with being handcuffed to him, even if he actually isn’t.

And then there’s also Light’s relationship with his father, which is a whole other amazing and interesting part of canon. Touched on both by that meta, and also by13Beyond13, who discussed the difference in Light’s motivations and in who he’s using as a role model in the different parts of the story (L vs Soichiro). It’s really interesting.

And then he gets his memory back. And he screams.

Back in chapter 22, L asks Light what his image of Kira is, and you get probably the most self-aware explanation Light ever gives of himself and his actions until the “Kira knows he’s evil” speech after his father’s death. Light says:

“I think Kira is... an affluent child. If, as assumed, he can kill just by willing it... if a human being had that kind of power—using it to get rid of criminals, and at the same time making it an example to others to make the world a better place, is something only a child would think of doing. I’d say he’s anywhere from a fifth-grader to a high-school student... if it was anyone younger than that, they’d either be too scared by the power to use it, or they’d use it to kill people they knew, people they didn’t like... and it if was anyone older than that, an adult, they’d only use it for their own personal gain. You could think of tons of ways to use that power and become really rich. Kira still has some purity about him. He’s an affluent child, who already has everything he needs. I’d say he’s probably a junior-high student who has his own cell phone, computer, and TV.”

With the distance that creating a criminal profile of Kira offers, Light is able to admit why he did what he did and even give a nod to how his social status influenced how he went about using the death note. The most crucial moment in this profile is the line “Kira still has some purity about him.” L picks up on this as an oddity—the only place Light’s profile doesn’t match up with L’s own profile of Kira. In context, this line of Light’s refers to his position at the cusp between childhood and adulthood, but also foreshadows the inevitability that eventually, Kira will not “still have some purity about him.” By the time chapter 75 comes around, immediately after his father’s death, Light’s description of Kira has changed to the extraordinarily depressing, “Kira is a mass murderer... evil. That’s true. But there are may people who support Kira... that’s also true. I think Kira understands this. That what he does is evil. But Kira will sacrifice even himself to change the world for the better... that is the true justice Kira has chosen... that is probably what Kira is thinking...”

Soichiro, perhaps the moral heart of the story, sums it up in chapter 22, after Light has already spoken: “Kira is evil... there’s no denying that... but lately I’ve been starting to think of it more like this... the real evil is the power to kill people. Someone who finds himself with that power is cursed. No matter how you use it, anything obtained by killing people can never bring true happiness.”

And that plays out over the course of the story until Light’s eventually unhappy death.

Plenty of people have talked about Light’s whole breakdown starting with “that’s right. I am Kira.” But what I think is interesting is how it happens right after he’s been literally backed into a corner. Everyone knows he’s Kira. He can no longer sustain both “Light Yagami” and “Kira” and “Light Yagami” is the one who’s been struck down completely and resoundingly. Despite everything Light’s been doing for years to keep both these things in balance, to “walk the tightrope” he ends up being pushed off and it’s Kira’s side he lands on. He has to. Everyone knows, now, that Light is a murderer and that he’s Kira. He has no excuse for his actions unless he believes them wholeheartedly. If he’s Kira, then he doesn’t have to be hurt by this, although he still is. He basically pleads for everyone in Light Yagami’s life to understand him. Why should he care about that? It’s not just because he doesn’t want to die. There’s more to it. He needs the validation of feeling like he’s not evil. If the people who know him personally can say, you know what Light, you’re right. I get why you did it. Then it would all make sense. He would have given up “Light Yagami” and everything that belonged to him—his future, his family, his morals—for a higher purpose. Near cuts that down pretty quick with his “you’re just a crazy mass murderer,” and then adds insult to injury by asking what everyone else in the room thinks.

And no one comes to Light’s defense. Not a single person. You see a number of panels that starts with an almost vulnerable shot of Light looking down, seeming almost like he feels bad. The moment stretches, there are close-ups on his eye glancing over at everyone, and everyone, one by one, condemns him with silence. After these rows of panels, Light’s eye, crueler than ever, tilts up to look toward the heavens—he can’t gain validation from anyone on earth. He’s going to have to get it from himself. He’s going to have to convince himself that everyone else is “a bunch of hopeless fools...” and it’s only then that he glances down at his watch and decides to completely lose it for the mere chance of killing Near.

(on ao3)

#Death Note #my stuff #my meta

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