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limey-self-inserts · 7 months

Text

Grounded

Word Count: 3k F/Os: Angor Rot (platonic) Summary: Wherein there is a small magic lesson and a crisis of conviction.

art tag crew: @bugsband @rexscanonwife @chimerakisses @faerie-circle-ships @carbo-ships

For the bare basic living quarters I’d expected when I first made land in Arcadia, this apartment wasn’t actually too bad. It had a whole mini-kitchen that blended into the dining room aka my study space, which made it a lot harder not to deny myself things like scrambled eggs or a grilled cheese toastie when I was goddamn exhausted with trying to read through Trollish texts on some magic stones or history of the Trollhunter. Something-something knowing your enemy to best weaken them, Strickler had said. I hadn’t been paying that much attention up until he’d shoved the books into my arms.

Considering how the Janus Order had specifically told me I needed to keep an eye on Strickler, and that Strickler was consistently intent on dropping something extra on me to keep me away from whatever he was working on alongside the whole ‘kill the Trollhunter’ business, I felt like the study sessions were intentional.

It wasn’t fun. Not in the slightest. Even when it came to finding parts of the text that tied into magic, it could become truly agonising in the process. Spending hours stuck in one room grinding through maybe two books at a time.

However Angor had come to realise that if he skipped on duties regarding directly stalking the Trollhunter to hunker down in my apartment and join me in my study sessions ‘in order to assist with the overall goal’, then it really, really pissed off Strickler.

At least it meant I wasn’t alone.

While most of Angor’s lessons required me to be outside (due to the inevitable surrounding damage and because getting thrown against a tree is miles more comfortable from being thrown against a wall), a little could still be done in the apartment. He’d had centuries to hone his magic, fine-tuning it to what he wanted - hunting, tracking, paralysis, manipulation. I was still in the process of trying to form my magic into goals, into tools. What I wanted from it hadn’t mattered until Angor had pulled me out of the dirt once too often and told me the necessity. Which then lead through to the core magic lessons.

According to the older books, wizards and witches normally used staffs or other foci to cast their spells. It was like formulating code - you decided your goal, adjusted the parameters of the world around you, and set the spell into motion. I did not have the comfort of a focus. It was a major part of why my magic could be so sporadic and volatile - curses shattered the moment my concentration wavered, if I created a weapon to fight with it could easily fall apart under too much stress.

But I did have a teacher who didn’t need a focus himself. Angor didn’t talk about the how or why, only the what and who. What did I want. Who was I aiming at. The only ‘how’ was ‘how quickly can I get this done’.

What did I want?

I wanted to go home.

Jerking awake abruptly, the ache of sleeping in a chair promptly hit my back muscles and legs. I blinked away the last dregs of the surprise nap, grimacing and hauling off the table to stretch myself out. Multiple pops echoed in the otherwise empty apartment. Delightful.

My most recent book lay open in front of me, partially haloed by pages of notes from this book and others, plus a bare basics Trollish translation cheat sheet. Most of the paper was now crinkled by the ghost imprint of my face. Across the rest of the table was the unwashed plate from a lunch or breakfast meal, a sad and cold half-drunk mug of tea, and an eyeball -

Oh. Bastard.

I leaned my chin on my hand, squinting at the obsidian eyeball.

“Good morning to you too,” I grumbled. The sun outside said that it was pushing into late evening. That counted as morning from trolls, I assumed. Like vampires. But then again Angor had his own shadow umbrella so he didn’t take as much caution towards the daytime.

The eyeball rolled further across the table, hopping onto the open book. Somehow it managed to look down and then back up in disdain. It didn’t have a face, but I knew Angor far, far too well already now. This was definitely a disdainful eye roll.

“Thank you for that enthusiasm,” I replied. Getting out of my chair was much harder than it should have been, as my legs remembered about blood flow and I stumbled to hold my balance. But after a mere second of embarrassment, I started the process of flipping through the kitchen cupboards to try and figure out what I’d be putting together for dinner tonight. It turned out even if you did sleep through your entire study session you still needed to eat food afterwards.

“Lessons or work tonight?” I asked the eyeball, glancing back over my shoulder. The eyeball rolled left and then right, before spinning around in a full circle. “...Yeah, I don’t know why I asked either. One hop for yes, two hops of no?”

“No.”

I flinched hard. Mistake. Turning quick with the thoughts of ‘shield’ on my mind, the shadows buckled and broke immediately when struck by stone claws. Angor crowded me, crammed down and partially crouched from the lower ceiling, leaving me squeezed against the kitchen countertop. For a moment my half-drawn breath rolled off stone, his eye matching mine and taking up the rest of the world.

Then his claw tip pressed into my forehead.

“Faster,” he commented, taking two steps back into the apartment space. My lungs released, along with the rest of my muscles, and I just about kept myself upright by bracing on the worktop.

“Asshole.”

“You will improve, or you’ll die. And you haven’t died yet, witchling,” Angor replied. After some consideration, he dropped down into a seat on the floor, hidden from the remaining rays of the sunset but unable to hide from their amber glow reflections. His eyeball rolled back to his open palm to be slotted into its proper place.

“Yeah, the court is out on whether you’ll kill me, either by hand or by heart attack, or whether Strickler’s plan to kill me by boredom gets me first,” I grumbled back.

“I am compelled to not kill you, for the time being.”

“You sure like to test the limits on that compulsion, don’t you?” I paused in my rummaging when I didn’t hear a reply. Angor’s grin met me in the middle of the room, a mixture of amused and hungry that slowly slid into a low grating laugh.

With mutterings of how reassuring he could be bouncing around, I returned to my first task.

“Question remains though, is it a lesson night or a working night?” I asked.

“The boy grows close to discovering one of the Triumbric Stones. We will need to learn what he has gathered and where he intends to go,” Angor replied. “I doubt it will be much work, but it will be a matter of…practical teaching, if you so desire.”

Making a small noise of understanding, I made a move for the ‘fast and easy to eat’ area of the kitchen. No point dilly-dallying over omelettes and peppers if we were going to be out the window once the sun was gone. Angor’s gaze remained on me, the cold prickling sensation finding a hold in between my shoulders.

He once described my presence as warm water. At the time I thought it was purely in the disgusting manner, but after time with him, and time reading about history, perhaps it could be better. Less revolting, with exposure.

He certainly seemed less cold sometimes, although that was a push.

Water in the pot began to bubble at the edges, a bath to drop an egg into and wait for the minutes to tick by. As much as I didn’t shy away from the cold on my back, I did chance a couple of looks back over to Angor. His hands held the Shadowstaff loosely, the metal and stone refusing to reflect any light in the room. A focus of the Pale Lady, but Angor didn’t channel magic through it, only utilising its shadow rending to get from point A to point B. A different witch could do great or terrible things with it.

I would not.

“Have you been practising?” Angor asked, catching my gaze and holding it.

“I - yeah, a little. I just - can we go over it when I’m not trying to juggle food?”

“Any moment can be a lesson when you are practising magic. Especially…” Angor trailed off as my phone abruptly pinged with a timer, I hastily scooped the egg out the pot to plop in another bowl, and then started pouring the hot water into my dinner.

“...What?”

“What are you doing?”

“My dinner! It’s very modern, Japanese fusion cuisine, all the kids love it. Tons of flavour, with added protein to boot.”

The silence was a distinctly flat sense of disbelief.

“It’s pot noodles with an egg on top. Look, I'll let you eat the pot afterwards if you want.”

Angor’s brow wrinkled inwards in disgust as I waved the pot in his direction. Shrugging in return, I set about the quick dinner with a fork and gusto.

“Disgusting.”

“You guys eat cats! And socks! I refuse to allow eating judgement in this house,” I snarked back through a mouthful of yolk and noodle.

That earned a very sharp scoff, Angor somehow managing to look even more disgusted at such things.

“That is simply the junk which trolls scrounge for now in your era,” he commented, his scowl sharpening his words. “In my time, we had far richer delicacies to hand than….socks. Deep cave mushrooms, rabbits, fresh veins of ore.”

“Human?” It wasn’t fair of me, and the regret raced in after the words escaped. I hunched my shoulders and prepared for the venomous or snapping response.

There was none.

Instead Angor’s face went rather empty for a moment. His gaze flickered away, falling back through memories. Slowly regret gathered in the corners of his mouth, a bitterness that pulled his grimace back into place.

“Never humans,” he replied. “Not hunting them was a kindness they never understood.”

That was more than a little unexpected. My shoulders slumped, the responses I’d prepared failing me. Quietly I scraped the cardboard insides of the pot in my hands, wracking my thoughts for something to say to break the morose weight that had settled in the room.

“It’d be fun to have rabbit some time,” I mumbled. Surprise caught Angor off-guard once again, but his composure returned much faster, a wry smirk coming free.

“Perhaps your lessons will show more promise if I teach you to hunt smaller game than trollhunters,” he chuckled. “It would be amusing watching you stumble around the woods in attempt to snare a bird or hare.” It was already a fun past-time for Angor watch Avalon struggling with the lack of light in most places. Hunting in the dark, the best time to catch prey unawares, would test them fairly. If hilariously.

“It’d beat pot noodles at least.”

“Anyone would heartily agree to that.”

“Okay. Okay. Look, it’s empty.” I waved the noodle pot in his face, earning not even a flinch but a blank disregard. “We don’t have to talk about that anymore.”

“And you can stop dodging my earlier question.”

Fuck.

Mirth could be so easily obtained with the witchling, Angor reckoned to himself. Try as they might to hold defences up, Avalon left too many open holes to reach through and prod and tug. That human weakness had dragged them here and dropped them at Angor’s feet. If he were to teach them well, he’d keep finding every other crack and either they would need to shore themselves or else they’d break apart.

A part of him didn’t want them to shatter though. If not just to take the fun out of a long game. So he’d keep teaching despite the flaws.

My face remained wrinkled in the cloying distaste of being caught out for a few seconds more before I exhaled a slow sigh, trying to ground myself. Time was short, however long until Angor decided it was time for us to leave. I’d need to do this right.

Magic bubbled at my fingertips. Angor’s instructions sat at the back of my head. What do I want? What carried me forward? Where was my conviction?

Angor watched in silence as shadows coalesced in Avalon’s palm. At first they were shapeless, barely a trick of the fading light. They rose and fell, then began to spread, forming a skeleton of a shape. A simple and efficient knife becoming more real with the passing seconds. It was a good weapon, to be approved of. The simplicity was apt for a beginner, the blade would be useful should they come to a fight. It would save them from their reluctance to kill. Given enough time, they would change, Angor knew that well enough. So he’d teach them enough to survive, in the short weeks before he finally got rid of the Trollhunter, and that would be all.

One eye cracked open. First I saw the knife, held together by shadow and the faint gleam of green, and I had to resist the urge to grin excitedly. Breaking my focus could untether the tool completely. Then I looked to Angor.

What did I want?

The green light fractured and overtook the blade, a thin line of metal becoming thick and rough and stone. Even while still simple, there were enough details to make it identifiable. But beyond that, it was heavy. It was solid. When gravity tugged it into my grasp and I had to grab it to keep it upright it didn’t fall apart without my concentration to hold it in one.

Stoic walls cracked at the edges as Angor squinted. His hand drifted to his belt, touching the handle of his own dagger, just for a moment. Avalon had succeeded, quite succinctly too. Their practice was paying off well. And yet the manifestation seemed…unwieldy. Surprise was too clear on their face. The way the dagger had formed had been unexpected but promising. And the similarities were far too uncanny to be ignored.

Would he call them out? Would he stay quiet?

Teeth ground together as Angor’s eyes narrowed. Despite everything, his influence was digging in faster than he’d planned. But it…wasn’t bad. A good knife would protect them better. Would dig deeper.

“A fine choice of blade,” he commented, a bare air of smugness encroaching his words despite the glower.

“I-I didn’t..” My words collapsed together, stammering over themselves. I knew the knife too well myself, I’d gotten to view it up close and personal enough times. The weight was lighter than the original, easier for my own hand. And it was still here, despite my thoughts going in every direction.

“But you have.” Angor drew himself up, not to full height but enough to be looming as he stepped closer. The Skathe-Hrün unfolded from its handle, almost my height and certainly jabbing a little close to my eyes for my own comfort. Instinctively I batted it backwards with the back of my magic knife, and even the gentle stone-on-stone tink drew toothy amusement from Angor.

It was like watching a small fox cub bat at a dead rabbit that its mother had brought to the den.

“You are becoming better at grounding yourself. It will be far more important the further you progress in learning magic,” he continued. “By far more important to keep yourself in the moment when you are in a fight.”

“For sure,” I agreed, quiet and nervous. That would have to be the main teaching point - whether the knife would stay for long enough with Angor or an actual enemy bearing down on me.

“You considered the questions I asked of you? What is it you want?” he asked.

The answer was there. I looked to the knife, then back up to Angor.

“Home,” I replied. “What do you want?”

You didn’t need a soul to experience the ache of loss. Angor’s grin faded rapidly, turning cold as the stone of his body. Even his eyes seemed to lose the golden glow.

“Something that I lost a long time ago,” he growled back. “That means little with my experience. You are the student here, you have far more to overcome and therefore you are the one who must focus on such thoughts.” Every ‘you’ was punctuated with a tap of the Skathe-Hrün to my chest, just enough to get the point across.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” I muttered quickly.

“The knife is a small tool. I will expect you to conjure something greater and stronger the next time I have you practise this skill.”

The conversation was done. Angor huffed out a growling breath before glancing to the windows. The sun was almost gone, the light a weak yellow streaking the ceiling of this box. By himself, he knew he would be able to travel unimpeded. With Avalon, the Shadow Realm made for a more reliable passageway. Turning to the wall instead, Angor pushed his focus into the staff, the location on the other clear in his mind.

What did he want?

Silence. He continued to stare into the wall, staff raised. I shifted my feet together, finally releasing the blade from my hand and my focus. The shadows fell apart before it could fall far from my grasp.

“Angor?”

There was a blink, and then his eyes were back on me. Lips curled, curved fangs bared, before he gestured with the Shadowstaff again more insistently and the air collapsed in on itself. The void was numbing, both to witness and stand close by to. I took a step towards it, only to be blocked by Angor’s hand.

“Don’t let go,” he growled.

“Of course,” I replied in low deadpan. My hand gripped onto his palm as best it could, while his claws dug into the sleeve of my coat. And then the apartment was quiet and empty, a table covered in notes and a book spread open on the history of Trollkind. A trident emblem painted onto the paper.

#writings #self insert #platonic self ship #world: trollhunters #ship: rotten magic

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shushiyuii · 3 years

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Giant!Ghostbur and tiny!Tommy fluff pls? handheld feels and cuddles will make me melt

I hope this is close enough! I actually really enjoyed writing this dwjndjadnd so thank you! I hope you enjoy it! Hope you don't mind i added some angst to it to make the climatic fluff more appealing :3

Warning: Description of injury, mention of character death and swearing

Words: 1.5K

Another day passed by. Another day of the same routine, a pattern that barely ever changes. So many explosions, he wasn’t sure how he was still coping or still had his hearing despite the damage done, the most he only got were burn scars.

It was the same cycle of Dream exploding his things, he’s tried so many different things to stop this endless cycle, yet nothing works. He’s Dream’s puppet and Dream’s the puppeteer, the manipulator, the one who pulls all his strings, the one who knows how he ticks.

He’s absolutely sick of it, the same shit over and over and over again! His eyebrows furrowed in anger, his eyes fighting back tears, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

He held onto the coat that was once his brothers, torn at places, patches of different fabric stitched onto it so that it doesn’t fall apart, it was really the only thing he had left of him after his death.

He laid in Logstedshire, or what used to be of Logstedshire, the only remaining thing of the place was a burnt chest that barely functioned and a half-burnt wall of logs, the only thing that served as ‘shelter’ as his tent was recently caught up in one of Dream’s explosions.

Built by what he wished was his brother, but merely just some sort of remnant that wasn’t really Wilbur, he loved Ghostbur, truly but he couldn’t help but grieve about what used to be, L’manburg, Pogtopia, His family, Friends, Home, everything.

Speaking of which, he hadn’t seen any visitors in a long while, not even Dream had shown up that day which made him question if something had happened? But knowing Dream he’d be completely fine, Dream was Dream, after all, he despised the man, he really couldn't care less.

He sighed as he thought back on his situation, no materials nor food. It didn’t that it was the dead of night, the only means of defence being a stone axe, at least he’d be able to hit hard with it, he just hoped it would last the night as the blade was slightly dull and handle loose. He knew that if he wanted to live, he couldn’t sleep.

He stood up, wincing from the pain coming from his back. He tried to soothe it with a quick rub but cringed as it didn’t work. Instead, he picked up his axe and made began his battle to defend the base from any mobs that dare come near.

He was actually surprised at how well he was handling himself in battle at the moment, killing multiple zombies and spiders, luckily no skeletons or creepers yet. It was fairly into the night so there was hope he’d make it, oh how he could’ve been more wrong.

Perhaps he jinxed himself at some point during his train of thoughts? Because as he was distracted by a couple more zombies, an arrow pierced his shoulder, luckily not deep but it did its damage fairly well with the injuries already on his body. He swung his axe, finally slaying the zombie in his way.

He turned his attention towards the skeleton and practically tackling it, making it drop its bow and falling to the ground, he raised the axe as high as he could, despite the arrow paining him and used as much strength as he could to bash it through the skull, efficiently killing it. A technique Techno had taught him a while back in Pogtopia.

He panted as he tried to get air into his lungs, his body exhausted with how many he’s killed, screw that thought about making it, there was barely a chance now. The sound of undead groaning caught his attention, making him swing back into battle. He managed to slay the two zombies but with the cost of losing his axe.

His head pounded and body ached, he could barely focus on his surroundings, vision blurring and barely hearing the sounds of the night, regrettably since those were practically the main senses he needed right now to survive, he knew he couldn’t get far with his bloodied shoulder.

Then, there was then a ‘hissssss~’ sound coming from behind, he immediately looked back to see a creeper about to explode, there was no time to run as he braced for impact, screaming his lungs out.

There was a swift movement, as he no longer felt the ground, he heard the creeper explode, he thought the creeper had flown him into the air but that wasn’t the case when he heard the words “Tommy?- A-are you okay?”. His eyes opened to see he was in the tight yet gentle fist of Ghostbur, seemed he arrived in the nick of time.

He felt uncomfortable with the arrow in his shoulder shifting, he tried to move his body and stop it but instead screamed again in pain as it went deeper into his shoulder. Ghostbur’s hand rotated into a gentle hold, rather than a fist to allow Tommy more freedom and to get a closer look at him.

He cringed in worry as he saw the shoulder, “Oh crap- Toms-“, “I-I’m fine Ghostbur, no worries. Nothing I’m not used to”. He looked into the ghosts’ eyes to show his sincerity, but it didn’t seem to ease the giant ghost’s worries instead his eyebrows furrowed even more.

“Tommy you aren’t okay! Don’t lie! You know I hate it when people lie!”. He sighed, “Ghostbur-“. “That’s enough”. The ghost said sternly, quite the difference in tone from his usually happy one not that long ago. In fact, the ghost himself looked quite pissed off.

His world shifted as Ghostbur had moved his hand towards his chest, covering Tommy protectively. He could still see the floor as Ghostbur was slightly transparent and the next thing he saw shocked him.

Ghostbur was slaying the incoming mobs by stomping on them. It reminded Tommy of how protective Wilbur used to be when he was alive, it seems Ghostbur still had that small side of Wilbur in him, it honestly made him kind of happy.

Soon, the mobs went running away, cowering as they realised, they wouldn’t be able to hurt the two of them. After a moment’s peace, the ghost sighed as Tommy was once again moved but instead this time was in front of the ghost’s face.

“Tommy, why didn’t you tell me you were in danger? I would’ve come as soon as possible…”, “I- Ghostbur, I didn’t think you’d really do anything like- like that” He pointed towards the ground. “That’s only with people Toms, I- You know Alivebur promised to protect you right? I would’ve-”.

“YOU’RE NOT WILBUR!”. He yelled out of frustration but quickly slapped his mouth shut after he’d said it “Sorry- Ghostbur- Really-“. “It’s fine, I know what you mean”.

The ghost gave him a gentle smile, “We both know I’m not Alivebur, but I still have some of his memories, I remember the promise he made you back in the caravan to protect you from anything like a big brother, I know I’m not him but I still want to make up for Alivebur’s mistakes, that even includes his promises!”.

“I- Hey Ghostbur”, “Yeah?”, “Can we get out of here? Please? I hate this, I hate this place, I hate Dream I-“. “Shh- It’s okay”. The ghost shushed from, stopping him from carrying on his rant as he felt tears flowing down his face, he held a hand up to it.

He realised that his tears were falling onto the ghost’s hand and quickly began to wipe them away, not wanting to hurt the ghost but more and more just kept coming. He was practically sobbing.

“Shh- Shh, It’s okay Toms”. There was a rubbing at his back, “T-the tears will-“, “Shh just let it all out”. The ghost brought him closer to his face, to the point where he could hug the ghosts nose. He gladly accepted the offer by embracing his nose as much as he could, sobbing his eyes out.

They sat there for a while, his ghostly brother reassuring just like Wilbur once did, maybe Ghostbur wasn’t as bad as he thought.

“I’m sorry to break the moment Toms, but your shoulder will be getting worse if we down treat it anytime soon.”. “R-right, do we even have the supplies though?”. “I brought some since I hadn’t seen you by your- well used to be a tent, I figured you might’ve been hurt”.

Ghostbur sat down on the ground, placing Tommy on his lap as he went to search for the supplies. Once found, instead of letting Tommy take care of it himself, he took it into his own hands by carefully removing the arrow, much to Tommy’s dismay and gave the boy a healing potion and wrapping the wound accordingly with success.

He looked at Tommy’s posture as it was slumped, usually, it was quite tall as he wanted to seem superior to anyone else, so he gently picked up the boy and brought the boy to his chest. Even without a body, Ghostbur still gave off warmth, even without a heartbeat, his chest still moved like Wilbur’s. And with that Tommy fell asleep as the ghost hummed the familiar tune of L’manburg’s theme.

#mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #dsmp g/t #giant!ghostbur #giant!wilbur #tiny!tommy #shushi's writings

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hideawayintheimaginationworld · 4 years

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Alec is out late with friends on a weekend and he gets a text from Fetch to come home because Lefty is worried about him but won't text him himself because he doesn't want to come off as too controlling.

Tym 2 come hom

Alec didn’t initially understand the wording, he knew it was Fetch based on the strange texting language, he also didn’t understand why Fetch had texted him in particular, yes Fetch was synced to everyone's phone and would text them if necessary but he mainly communicated with Greg and Lefty.

His phone then received another message:

U need 2 come hom

Was Fetch asking him to come home?

He did see the time on his phone screen said 10:45 pm, he had been given permission by Lefty to go to the movies with some boys from school, the movie ended a while ago and Alec had decided to grab something to eat, he was just sitting inside the fast food place after eating just using the WiFi to watch videos on his phone.

Now Fetch was texting him.

Fetch had only texted him three times before, once because Fetch couldn’t get in touch with Greg, unaware Greg's phone battery died earlier.

RU on UR way now Alec?

Alec stood up, he had already decided it was time to go home but he decided to respond to Fetch first:

I'll be home in twenty minutes

Fetch responded:

C U soon

Alec checked the time before he went inside the house, he knew Lefty wasn’t particularly about curfews but Lefty did say before for everyone, which included himself, Ralpho, Sarah, Millie, Pete, Oscar, Stanley, Matt and everyone else, that it was a good idea to not be out of the property after midnight. The reason being that there were threats Lefty hadn’t captured yet, like Funtime Freddy, Alec hadn’t seen him aside from pictures but Lefty warned him enough that Funtime Freddy could potentially be stalking Millie and might be coming to watch the house after midnight for an opportunity to grab someone.

Creatures like Plushtrap, Eleanor, and Foxy were also problematic, and the reasons why the doors were impossible to break complete with multiple locks that would give enough time for Lefty to get a spell ready to repel them.

Nothing bad had happened so far, Lefty did say he was certain Eleanor showed up a few nights ago because Fetch kept barking at the window and Lefty saw a tall figure running down the street, obviously spooked by Fetch barking.

Alec pushed the door open, then closed it behind him, he immediately saw in the living room, Lefty was sitting on the sofa, and Fetch was next to him, he appeared to be asleep.

Lefty looked over at him, “Oh you're home...”

“Yes, I live here.”

“I just didn’t know when you would be coming home, that's all,” Lefty answered.

“Fetch texted me to come home,” Alec told him.

“I didn’t notice that he did,” Lefty looked at the dog who was at his side, Fetch slowly opened one of his eyes and looked at Alec.

Alec's phone buzzed, he figured Fetch had chimed in with something and looked at what he said:

Lefty was worried abt U

Alec nodded, Fetch then added on:

He won’t admit

Lefty don’t wna ctrl U

Alec interpreted that as Lefty wanting to let him have freedoms but not wanting him to get hurt by those freedoms.

He noticed from the very first time he met him that even with him unaware who he was, he saw Lefty was trying to protect Helpy from a potential threat. Then when Alec said who he was, Lefty was always looking out for him, at the time Alec was a two-foot Lonely Freddy and could disappear into the vents, Alec even got trapped in a pipe once after he fell into it and it wasn’t fun, Lefty did pull him out when he found him. Lefty was not just looking out for him, but protecting him like how a parent would.

Alec did realise after he was put back into his body that the family life he thought he wanted for several months wasn’t the one he needed.

That was months ago, and Hazel had followed him to this new life with Lefty and the others.

Lefty was still sort of new to being a parent, technically he had eight kids to watch out for, him and his sister included.

“You know if you want me to come home, just text me,” Alec said to Lefty, he didn't want Lefty to worry about him.

“Well, you know what I said... don’t be outside after midnight.”

The whole midnight thing wasn’t as much of a curfew as it was a safety rule, Alec was fine to follow any rules Lefty had because they weren’t unreasonable, Lefty expected him to do homework and chores but he was okay when Alec wanted to take a break, play games and go out for the afternoon, Lefty had never fought with him or scolded him.

“I wouldn’t,” Alec answered, “Because I know you don’t me to get hurt.”

“I don’t want anyone in this house hurt,” Lefty seemed to correct him.

“Not even Matt?”

Alec had spoken the name of an adult man they recently met, Alec knew Lefty was having arguments with Matt regularly but they seem to be less now.

“Me and Matt are establishing a better relationship,” Lefty explained, “He's starting to break a lot of bad habits, I think Spring could also to be thanked for that, I mean yes what happened wasn’t nice but it was a wake-up call, and in a way... everyone here has had some sort of wake up call.”

Alec felt like he had two wake-up calls:

When he realised Hazel wasn’t a manipulative brat, and when he realised he was a lot happier when Lefty was filling the parent role better than his own parents.

“Regardless no one in my opinion deserves to be attacked by a rogue robot.”

“What about the people created Lonely Freddy?”

“Well... I already showed those people their actions have consequences and Karma's a bitch.”

“Well, you are Karma then.”

Lefty chuckled at that, “I guess I am.”

“So not grounded for being out past eleven?”

Lefty shook his head, “Alec, I don’t really ground anyone, you know that but I'd like you to go to bed now, you need to have at least 9 and half hours of sleep.”

Lefty didn't particularly enforce an exact time for sleep, he did however liked everyone to be asleep by eleven, and he said Hazel and Chuck should have about 10 hours of sleep.

Alec nodded, “Okay, goodnight dad.”

Alec did occasionally call him Dad but not always, Lefty wouldn't force it, Alec never saw how Lefty would smile when he heard that.

“Goodnight Alec...” Lefty responded as Alec disappeared upstairs out of view.

Lefty looked at Fetch, who turned his head to him and gave him the innocent look like he did nothing wrong, he gave that look yesterday when he tracked in mud on the kitchen floor.

Lefty saw Fetch had sent him a message on his phone.

U need 2 jus communicate wn U'D lk him 2be hom

“I guess I need to do that... I mean... he's legally my kid now, heck I even considered him my kid long before, I put in the effort that his real parents never did,” Lefty said, ”I don't want to come off as controlling, however.”

I nvr met Alec's M&D but dey don’t sound gd like Greg's, U btr parent 4 them all

“Ian and Meg aren’t the same as Greg's parents...” Lefty told him, “I don’t like talking to Ian or Meg, but I’ve threatened Greg's father saying if he ever hurts him again then he better start running immediately because I won’t be held back this time by anyone.”

Fetch growled at the mention of Greg's father, something they both hated was Greg's father, he then shook his head and yawned.

Bedtime

“Yes, let's go to bed, Alec's back home now, just go to bed, I'm going to have a quick look, make sure everyone is actually asleep,” Lefty stood up from the sofa and went upstairs, Fetch followed behind him.

Lefty checked on Hazel and Ralpho first, he liked her for some reason so he often jumped on her bed while no one else was looking and fell asleep there, he then checked on Sarah and Millie, who were both asleep in their bed. Delilah also was asleep, with her alarm set for eight AM so she could go to work, Stanley, Matt and Spring were asleep.

The boys all were asleep, Alec obviously would still be conscious but his eyes were closed, the only things Lefty noticed was Pete didn’t take off his hat so it was still on his head and Oscar had his phone in his hands, he obviously fell asleep while texting Issac and Raj.

Lefty then snuck to bed, Fetch had already taken his place on the big dog bed in the corner near the door, Lefty walked pass him, he took off his hat and bow tie then laid down, drifting into a dreamless sleep.

That was until Fetch woke him at eight, asking for breakfast like he always did.

#Ask #I wrote about it but I might make it a short comic because this idea good #I wrote this in about 2 hours #For the record this probably would happen #Lefty trying to be a good parent but he doesn’t want Alec to hate him #five nights at freddy's #fazbear frights #Lonely Freddy #FNAF Alec #Lefty #FNAF Lefty #FNAF Fetch #Writing Drabble

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thefloatingstone · 4 years

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We’ve gone from Self-Isolation to Quarantine and in some places to gradual relaxation phases, but that doesn’t stop the need for more nonsense you can watch on youtube while you wait for things to get back to normal. And recommending things and making lists are some of my favourite things to do but I have not yet figured out how to start or structure a video myself, you guys get another rambling tumblr post of things you can watch on youtube.

This time I’m once again just gonna recommend individual videos rather than full channels like I did in part 2.

Part 1

Part 2

In no particular order;

LOCAL58: The Broadcast Station that Manipulates You

I recently started watching the Nexpo channel when I went on a binge of creepy youtube videos. Most of his videos are really good although the ones where he himself goes into theory crafting can be a little asinine. However, this video is REALLY good. And before you get nervous, LOCAL58 is not a real TV station. LOCAL58 is a youtube channel created by the same guy behind the Candle Cove creepypasta. This video by Nexpo covers the various episodes of LOCAL58 and discusses them. Just be aware going in that this is abstract horror, and will probably get under your skin regardless if you’re unaffected by certain topics or not. although cw for suicide mention.

I also recommend most of the rest of this channel, although be careful where you tread. I don’t recommend his series “Disturbing things from around the internet” as it can sometimes include real life crime, abuse and such caught on security cameras. Everything else is really good tho. (although I was really annoyed by his 2 videos on KrainaGrzybowTV)

The Search for D.B. Cooper

LEMMiNO has a new video out covering one of the most unexplained crimes in the past century of the US. LEMMiNO is the guy I’ve recommended before who did videos on the Universal S. He is very down to earth and not someone prone to conspiracy or even really that fanciful of thinking. (He’s like the one person I feel covered the Dyaltov Pass incident and was confused by why this was even a mystery because if you read the Russian Autopsy reports and documents associated with the case it’s all pretty logical and easily explained)

D.B. Cooper is the name given to a man who, in 1971, hijacked an airplane with a bomb, asked for a large sum of money, and after receiving it, parachuted from the plane and was never seen or heard from again.

The Austrian Wine Poisoning | Down the Rabbit Hole

Down the Rabbit Hole also has a new video out, this time covering the Austrian Wine Poisoning event from 1985. A scandal that involved literally the entire country of Austria, affected multiple countries, and forever changed the way wine was made world wide. As someone who is generally pretty allergic to most artificial substances this one made me personally very angry. But luckily, it has a happy ending and a better world for us all... if I could drink wine which I can’t do anyway.

The Turbulent Tale of Yandere Dev - A Six Year Struggle

The Right Opinion is another channel I only recently subbed to after watching his cover on Onion Boy. I put off subbing to him simply because of his channel name and I thought it meant he would come across as smug and elitist. Luckily this seems to merely be one of those “I chose a bad channel name and now I’m stuck with it” type of situations. (IHE has a similar problem).

Anyway, I have a weird interest in bizarre internet personalities, so I’ve been enjoying his channel as he simply discusses and presents a timeline of events of certain individuals. In this video, he covers the developer behind the much maligned Yandere Simulator. It’s a tale of hubris, arrogance, immaturity, and an unwillingness to accept your own shortcomings due to ego.

Oh and there’s a meme game about Japanese school girls with anime tiddies in there as well.

The Most Relaxing Anime Ever Made | Yokohama Kaidashi Kikō

Kenny Lauderdale is a youtube channel which is slowly becoming bigger which I’m very happy to see. He exclusively covers anime and live action Japanese television no younger than the mid 90s (as is the case with YYK) and which usually never saw a release outside of Japanese Laserdisc. I do wish his videos were a little longer, but if nothing else his videos serve as an excellent starting to point to find some older and underappreciated shows... or hot garbage fires. In this episode he talks about the 2 OVA episodes made based on one of my favourite manga, Yokohama Shopping Log. A Post apocalyptic anime about an android who runs a coffee shop outside of her house, and the quiet solitude of living in a world of declining human population, brief encounters with travelers and other people, and just... existing. The anime was never released outside of Japan and is only available on Japanese VHS and laserdisc.... but hey guess what!! Somebody uploaded both episodes, subbed, to Youtube.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2HCVOH6DtA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yqSTwfkobME

YMS’ slow descent into madness as he uncovers just how bullshit the Kimba Conspiracy is

I’m linking a full playlist for this one.

YMS is busy planning his review on the “live action” Lion King remake as the original 1994 movie is probably his favourite movie all time (and also self declared what made him a furry). As part of the 2 hour review, he decided to what all 2000 hours of Kimba the White Lion just to mention how The Lion King potentially stole the idea. ....until he actually watched all 2000 hours of Kimba and realised that if you actually WATCH Kimba, it has VERY little to do with the Lion King at all apart from having the same animals in them because AFRICA. Watch as one man slowly loses his mind as he realises just how stupid this conspiracy theory is, just HOW DECEITFUL and straight up LYING people can be. People who write BOOKS. People who teach LAW AT UNIVERSITIES. Because NOBODY bothered to actually watch the entire show and just parroted the “Disney stole this” lie which got started by like 2 salty fans on the internet.

The man set out to just mention how Disney stole an idea, and uncovered one of the most infuriating rabbit holes on the internet. Screaming for SOMEONE to provide him with sources or evidence.

YMS will be publishing his full Kimba documentary this month which he has said is around 2 hours long before he continues to work on the Lion King one.

Science Stories: Loch Ness eDNA results, Poop Knives, and Skeleton Lovers

TREY the Explainer has a video giving us some updates in Archeology from 2019. In this video he discusses the findings of the eDNA results conducted on the Loch Ness to see what animal DNA the lake contains which will tell us what living animals currently inhabit the lake, ancient knives made of poop and if this is a real thing that could have existed, and a skeleton couple found buried together which were at first thought to be lovers, then revealed to be both male, and then how in this instance we cannot let our modern sensibilities dictate what we WANT this burial find to be, but to look at the evidence as presented to us and place in context finds of this nature. The worst thing an archaeologist can do is look for proof to a theory they already have.

The Bizarre Modern Reality of Sonic the Hedgehog

Super Eyepatch Wolf is back and he’s here to talk to us about the very very strange existence of Sonic. a 90s rebellious “too cool for School” answer to Mario, a lost idea as the world of video games changes and culture shifted, a meme and punching bag amplified by a unique fanbase and poor quality games, a transcendence into a horrific warped idea of what he once was, and modern day and where Sonic and his fans are now. As usual Super Eyepatch Wolf knocks it out of the park.

Kokoro Wish and the Birth of a Multiverse: A Lecture on the Work of Jennifer Diane Reitz

I don’t even sub to this channel as I’m not entirely sure what Ben’s usual content is about. But every now and then he has a “101″ class, where he explains to a room full of his friends in a classroom setting (complete with Whiteboard) an internet artist and oddity, the timeline, and what it is they have created. (wait... didn’t I say this already?). Unlike TRO however, the 101 classrooms are not a dark look into disturbed individuals (although the CWC 101 is debatable) nor is it a “lol look at this weirdo” dragging. Instead, of the 3 he’s done so far, it’s usually a rather sympathetic look at some of the strange artists on the internet who through some way or another, left a very big cultural impact on the internet space through their art. Sometimes they may not be the best people, but their work is so outside of what we’re used to seeing that just listening to him run you through these people’s internet history is fascinating.

In this episode he talks about Jennifer Diane Reitz. And although it is titled Kokoro Wish, the lecture is more about Jennifer’s larger work back in the early internet when being a weeb was unheard of, how being trans influenced her stories and characters, and her world building that is so rich and in-depth with it’s own ASTRO PHYSICS it puts any modern fictional world found in games or movies to shame.

Jennifer is not exactly a nice person... and in many ways can be seen as dangerously irresponsible, but she created something truly unique in a way that you kinda struggle figuring out if it’s terrible or a work of genius.

Anyway I think that’s enough for now

#Youtube #youtubers #recommendations #Self Isolation playlist #Long post #part 3 #videos #links

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bloodfromthethorn · 3 years

Text

Interrogation

A Musketeers angst fic as a Christmas present to myself. Inspired entirely by @why-this-kolaveri-machi‘s recent ficlet

As Richelieu’s manipulations went, even d’Artagnan had to admit this was a masterstroke. A combination of a few careful rumours, paying off a handful of mercenaries to stage an attack, and the oh-so-careful planting of evidence in his dorm room and suddenly d’Artagnan found himself surrounded by armed Red Guards in the middle of the street with no help in sight. Even when Treville had shown up, shouting something about the King’s orders and the authority of the Musketeers, the outcome had still been a swift, terrifying march to the Bastille and a series of freezing cold nights in a cell with no word from anyone.

In short, d’Artagnan was having a bad week.

The one positive of this whole awful affair was that apparently Treville still held enough sway with Louis to ensure his interrogation would be handled by the Musketeers rather than the Red Guard – keeping any dirty laundry in house, as it were – so he was probably faring better than he otherwise might. At the same time, it meant he found himself faced with the three men he would previously have said he trusted most in the world and being forced to look them in the eye as they questioned every decision he had ever made with open suspicion on their faces.

He shifted in his chair for the third time in as many minutes, wishing he could at least have his hands unbound so he could shake out the stiffness that had taken root. “I’ve told you,” he said again, weary, “I have no idea who Reynard is.”

“There are eyewitnesses who swear to have seen you meeting with him on multiple occasions.” Athos’ voice was stone cold, level and emotionless. Aramis and Porthos had at least had the grace to believe d’Artagnan in the beginning, before the evidence started piling up against him, but it was clear that their de facto leader had harboured no such hopes from the moment the chains were closed around d’Artagnan’s wrists. Richelieu had called him a traitor, and Athos had taken him at his word.

“Then they’re lying. I don’t know anyone called Reynard.”

“Did you know he was under the employ of the Spanish army when you met with him?”

“I never met with him,” he stressed, knowing it would make no difference. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise half a second before the cane in Aramis’ hand flicked against his shoulder; more of a warning than an actual blow, but enough to sting all the same. He hissed. “It’s the truth. I don’t know how to prove it to you.”

“When did you last visit the Rue de la Lièvre?”

He thought for a moment, long enough for Aramis’ cane to come to rest lightly against his shoulder blade. “About a month ago,” he said eventually. “Not long after I arrived in Paris. I was exploring.”

"Exploring? Why?"

It was obvious Athos had immediately assumed he was doing something nefarious, but the truth was simply that Porthos had suggested he get to know his new environment should any more trouble come knocking at his door. It had been good advice and he'd happily done as he was bid - somehow he didn't think that explanation would help.

"I was new to the city. I'd never been to Paris before. I wanted to learn more about it since it looked like I'd be staying."

Instead of shooting off another question, Athos took a moment to lean back in his chair to examine him, his eyes sharp and unreadable. d'Artagnan, half starved and gradually freezing to death, stared balefully back, too wrung out and exhausted to even offer up any malice at the speed with which his so-called friends had turned on him. He wanted nothing more than for this to be over, no matter what the outcome might be.

Behind Athos, leaning casually against the wall with a dark expression heavy on his brow, Porthos opted for a different approach. "d'Artagnan, you haven't eaten in three days. I can see you shivering from here. If you tell us what we need to know then we can help you - get you some food and blankets. Maybe even get you out of here altogether. Reynard isn't worth your loyalty. Let us help."

The act was good, very good. It might even have been believable if it hadn't been greatly overshadowed by Athos' presence looming large and the fact that yesterday, the cane had been in Porthos' hand.

Still, it was as good an opening as any.

"If I knew the answers to your questions, I would tell you. I am loyal to France. I would never betray my King."

I would never betray the Musketeers hung cold in the back of his throat, but invoking their name had historically not gone well during these little chats and d'Artagnan was good at learning from his mistakes. He swallowed it down.

"The first time I heard the name Reynard was when you asked me about him. I have never been to Spain. I have never knowingly had any contact with anyone associated with the Spanish army. I would never betray my country."

He was breathing too quickly, he realised with a start. He forced himself to take a deep breath and cursed himself when it shook. The cane brushed over the back of his neck.

Athos leant forward again with something unshakeable in his eyes. "Before your arrest, you were apprenticed with the Musketeers."

It wasn't a question, but he paused so d'Artagnan nodded.

"You had been with the regiment for about a month."

"Yes."

"Why did you join them?"

Despite his crippling exhaustion, he found the energy to feel a sudden surge of irritation. "It wasn't to uncover state secrets if that's what you're getting at."

The cane snapped sharply against his back with a thundering crack of sound. He cursed breathlessly, writhing until the pain ebbed enough to bite out a better answer. "I needed work and it seemed like a good fit. They were honourable men."

If Athos took issue with his use of the past tense, he didn't show it. "You agreed to risk your life in service of the King for so small a reason?"

"Athos," he breathed out, still shuddering with pain, "You know why I joined."

He had the gall to laugh at that. "It has become very clear that anything we thought we knew of you cannot be trusted. Answer the question."

It was the response he'd expected, but it still hurt to hear. Unbidden, he remembered how Aramis and Porthos had immediately and unflinchingly brushed aside his accusations against Athos when he had first met them, the ardency with which they held their ground against a tidal wave of suspicion. He'd had no misconceptions about his worth relative to their friend of many years, but their willingness to believe the worst of him still managed to catch him off guard.

"I had nowhere else to go. My family is gone and I didn't want to resign myself to a lifetime of farming. The only other skill I have any claim to possess is swordcraft." Although given that one of the guards had broken his finger on his first night here and he hadn't been able to set it right by himself, it was perfectly possible he'd never hold a sword right again. Not that he had any real hope of getting out of prison alive at all.

"You could have been a mercenary. I hear the pay's better."

"I wanted to serve my country."

"Which country is that?"

He sighed, deeply and with feeling, only to gasp in another breath when the cane came down again. He hissed through his teeth and pretended like tears weren't beading at the corner of his eyes. "France."

Athos hummed to himself. “It is very uncommon for apprentice Musketeers to be allowed the seniority you were by virtue of your relationship with us. Did you intentionally manipulate us to gain greater access to the King?”

He forced himself not to flinch and shook his head slowly. These questions were pointless - no one was going to believe a word he said anyway, even if he’d had the answers they were looking for. “No. I didn’t know anything about you when I met you. If I had, I probably wouldn’t have tried to kill you.”

"Why did you come to Paris?"

Not liking where this was going, d'Artagnan's answer was monotone. "My Father was hoping to petition the King for relaxing the taxes in Gascony. We'd had a few bad harvests in a row and people didn't have the money to pay them."

"Did you petition the King?"

"No. After my Father died, I abandoned his mission. I continued on to Paris in search of the man that killed him."

"Me."

"You."

There was a weighted, vicious pause, then, "Do you have any proof that your Father really did perish on that trip?"

The fury that overcame d'Artagnan was so sudden and so blinding that his muscles were trying to launch him out of his chair before his brain could remind him he was tied down. As it was, Aramis' hand caught him by the throat and slammed him back into his seat before he could do anything more than rock it violently forward. "Stay down," he hissed sharply, but softened the threat by turning to Athos and saying, "Porthos and I can confirm that, at least. We spoke to the innkeeper, saw the grave. His story's true."

The marksman's hand stayed curled around d'Artagnan's neck for several strained breaths, evidently a threat. As it was, d'Artagnan did nothing but try to breathe through the searing anger and crippling grief that had torn right through his centre. To be called a traitor was one thing, to question his Father's memory was altogether another.

This was not the time or place to break apart, but d'Artagnan could feel the fault lines threatening to tear open.

"d'Artagnan," Athos started, then hesitated. It was the first sign of uncertainty he'd displayed all day. "We just need to know what information you passed to Reynard, that's all. Tell us that and we can be done here."

He sounded earnest and that somehow hurt more, to know that Athos still cared just enough to not want to watch him starving to death, but too little to actually believe anything he said. d'Artagnan wished he had the strength to laugh. "That's easy enough," he said instead of trying to convince them any longer, "I told him nothing."

Porthos sighed heavily, pushing off from the wall to bring himself level with Athos, looming over the table like a dread spectre. "What is it you're protecting? What's more important to you than your own life?"

d'Artagnan briefly fought a losing battle against the urge to let his chin drop to his chest, his eyes slipping closed under the weight of his own exhaustion. When he spoke, even he could hear how defeated he sounded. "I'm not protecting anything. I don't know any Reynard, and whoever's claiming I do is probably who you're really looking for. If I could prove it to you, I would."

Athos' lips thinned, visibly unconvinced. d'Artagnan flinched a beat before the cane flicked against the meat of his arm and cursed loudly at the sting. "It's the truth," he bit out, letting the frustration shine through. "I don't know the answers you're looking for."

"d'Artagnan, there are four different people willing to swear that you met with Reynard on multiple occasions and we found missives with his name hidden in your room, along with more money than you could ever have made from your farm. Do you really expect us to believe you don't know anything about the Spanish plot?"

If he'd had anything to drink in the last two days, he would have wept with his own frustration. "I know you won't believe me. It's still the truth."

In the corner of his eye he saw the cane twitch, but Athos waved Aramis down before the blow could land. He pushed away from the table with a heavy sigh. "We're getting nowhere today. Let's see if another night here helps to jog your memory."

There was a certain relief in that, free from the threat of the cane and the judgement in his friends' eyes, but it meant another night cold and hungry with no respite. He barely resisted the urge to groan.

"He needs water," Aramis put in quietly. "He'll last without food for another few days but he has to drink if we want him able to talk."

Athos nodded easily, accepting his ruling. "Speak to the guards, make sure it happens." With that he was gone, sweeping out of the room without another glance at the young man he would once have called brother and leaving a thoroughly defeated d'Artagnan to be frogmarched back to his cell by Aramis and Porthos in silence.

His promised water didn't appear for another few hours, when a guard he'd never seen before dumped a bucket in the corner of his cell with a thump. Sunken down on his little patch of straw against the far wall, d'Artagnan didn't react even when the guard cursed his name and spat on the floor beside him, taking care to slam his door with enough force to shake the room. It was one of the least offensive encounters d'Artagnan had had since his arrest; that awareness in and of itself was almost enough to put him off drinking the water after all. As it was, he eventually decided that tomorrow's interrogation would be even more tortuous if he was critically dehydrated at the same time, and he hadn't quite reached the stage of trying to kill himself.

Just as he had for the last however many nights, d'Artagnan spent his time curled tightly in a shivering ball in the corner of his cell, desperately trying to ward off the pervasive chill that swept beneath his door. One of the few benefits of his previous occupation was that the guards were sufficiently wary of him to not trust him with a windowed cell, so he at least didn't have to try to cope with wind and rain pouring into his tiny little portion of Hell, but it was far from comfortable. Frozen stiff and hopeless, he didn't sleep a wink.

The Musketeers were back at dawn, dragging him from his semi-aware fugue state and back into his gloomy little interrogation chamber without fanfare.

"Sleep well?" Aramis asked snidely as he bound his hands firmly back in place. d'Artagnan didn't bother to respond.

Even though he wasn't the one who spent the night freezing in a cell, Athos somehow managed to look even more drawn than d'Artagnan did when he settled himself down across from him. He slid a piece of paper across the table towards him without a word, his face pale and tight.

A glance at the parchment showed a long passage of text with a signature scrawled at the bottom, followed by a very official looking seal. Unable to reach for it and far too weary to try to interpret the scratchy handwriting at a distance, d’Artagnan just returned his gaze to Athos and waited for the inevitable question.

“Do you know what this is?”

“No.”

“Do you recognise the handwriting?”

In an attempt to not anger Athos in the first few minutes of the day, he obliged him by casting a more searching glance over the page, but came away none the wiser. “No.”

“Do you recognise the seal?”

“Red Guard. Richelieu, maybe.”

The cane, back in Aramis’ hand, grazed against his collarbone. “Cardinal Richelieu.”

It was a testament to d’Artagnan’s sheer strength of will and his desire to not make things worse for himself than they already were that he was able to restrain himself from hissing, Like you give a damn. Instead, he clenched his jaw, and kept silent.

Seemingly satisfied, Athos withdrew the paper to look at it himself. “This is the sworn statement of Gaspard Vincent - a resident on the Rue de la Lièvre."

"One of my witnesses," d'Artagnan said lowly, starting to connect the dots.

Athos hummed in agreement. "He claimed that he had hosted you and Reynard on several occasions, under threat of retribution should he reach out to the authorities."

"Claimed?"

There was a long, still pause during which d'Artagnan doggedly crushed the hope threatening to spark to life in his chest. Eventually Athos sighed. “He recanted his testimony yesterday morning. Twelve hours later, he reconfirmed his original statement.”

There was no doubt something meaningful there, but d’Artagnan was starving and exhausted and he had absolutely no desire to play Athos’ games. “Meaning?”

The cane rested carefully against his shoulder, a gentle caution to watch his tone. That he hadn’t already received a blow was… unusual. “It means we have reason to doubt his word.”

“Why did he reconfirm?” There was a telling pause. “You think someone threatened him, don’t you? You’re just trying to work out which way the intimidation went.”

“I suppose you’re going to tell us that he only testified against you because he was being threatened?”

d’Artagnan couldn’t help momentarily raising his eyes to the heavens as though to plead for strength. “I’ve been telling you that for five days.”

“Buying off one witness wouldn’t explain everything else. We found evidence of treason in your room d’Artagnan.”

“You really think someone with the power to make a handful of witnesses appear on command couldn’t get into my room? I wasn’t even there the day I was arrested.” The cane snapped harshly against the meat of his back, but he forced himself to keep his voice level. With bruises layered over bruises, he found it faintly remarkable he could still feel the pain at all. “I spent that entire night in The Wren, watching your back when you decided to drown yourself in a wine bottle. Do you really think it’s an impossibility that someone snuck into the house when I wasn’t there?”

He heard the cane whistle through the air, but Athos flicked a hand up and the strike never came. d’Artagnan breathed out slowly. “You were in The Wren,” Athos confirmed quietly, his eyes far away and distant as though he was only just now realising this fact. “I remember you being there.”

If his hands had been free, he thought he might be tearing his hair out in frustration. “Why on Earth does that make any difference?”

When no immediate response was forthcoming, Porthos inched forwards to fill the silence. “It makes a difference because another witness claimed you met with Reynard that night.”

d'Artagnan blinked, breathed, then surprised himself by laughing sharply. "Of course they did."

"I-" Athos started, then halted uncertainly. He threw a wild look in Aramis' direction, clearly thrown. If he hadn't already known, d'Artagnan would need no more evidence that Athos had entirely forgotten about his presence in the inn that evening.

Porthos' hand landed on his shoulder, steadying. "We need to talk to that witness. No sense hammering d'Artagnan any more today if we're not sure about those statements."

For something that seemed as though it should have been a thrilling redemption, their session ended with remarkably little fanfare after that. Athos and Porthos disappeared before Aramis had even got him untied, and it was clear the marksman had absolutely no intention of offering him any further information. He had a vague sense that the man thought they had already said too much.

d'Artagnan knew that pressing for answers was futile and as likely to backfire on him as help, but all he could see was Athos' lost expression when he'd realised a second witness had been caught lying. Despite everything, he found himself turning to Aramis just before his hands came free. "Did he hesitate? When Richelieu called for my head, and I was arrested- Did he hesitate?"

His voice sounded raw to his own ears, and maybe that was why Aramis didn't immediately lash out. The tears shining bright in his eyes might also have had something to do with it.

"We all did."

There was nothing he could say to that that wouldn't hurt them both. He walked back to his cell in silence.

What followed was an awful lot of nothing. He heard nothing more from the Musketeers for three full days, but his outlook did brighten substantially when his now-daily bucket of water was joined by a hunk of bread and cheese, and a small collection of blankets was quietly deposited in his chilly corner. It wasn't comfortable by a long shot, but it was miles better than what he'd had and it was a strong sign his future might hold something more substantial than a slow, miserable death and an unmourned grave.

With so little contact with the outside world, he had no real idea what to expect when a guard appeared in his doorway and ushered him out without an explanation. For all his new-found comforts, he still wore the weight of days without food and water, spattered with bruises and aching in ways he hadn't known possible, so when he was led through a door into the sunlight he could do little more than blink, half-blind and confused. The guards flanking him retreated in silence and it was only after he watched them leave that he turned his head to see Athos, Porthos, and Aramis standing before him.

All three of them looked unsure of themselves, clutching their hats to their chests and watching him warily.

"What's going on?" He rasped, though he was starting to catch on quickly. He’d initially assumed he had been led into an inner courtyard for whatever reason, but as his eyes adjusted to the light it became clear he was standing in the square that fronted the prison. Well beyond the Musketeers, he could see the bustle of people going about their business like always. The guards wouldn’t have left him here, Musketeers or no, unless they no longer felt the need to keep him contained.

After an uncertain heartbeat, Athos stepped forward. “Your name has been cleared. The King has issued a pardon, and an apology for your treatment.” He hesitated, then added softly, “We need to apologise too.”

d’Artagnan considered that for a moment. He thought about every bruise he could feel prickling against his skin, every harsh word, every sleepless night, took a deep breath and held it. When he felt steady enough, he met Athos’ eye. “I’m free to go?”

“Yes.” He untucked a bundle from beneath his arm and held it out carefully - d’Artagnan’s sword and pistol. “The rest of your belongings have been returned to your lodgings.”

He had to force himself not to recoil at Athos’ nearness, but he reached out to reclaim his weapons all the same, tucking the belt back around himself like an old friend. He half-wanted to scorn the offering, but it was his Father’s sword and no amount of spite was worth losing it now; the moment it was back in its rightful place, he felt strength starting to leech back into his bones.

“d’Artagnan,” Aramis started, sounding wrecked, only to cut himself off when his eyes snapped to the marksman’s.

He looked around the three of them for a moment, taking in their guilt, then made a careful sidestep and walked straight for the main gate without a word. None of them tried to stop him, but he heard at least one of them suck in a sharp breath as he marched forcefully past him; he tried very hard not to take any satisfaction from finally, finally having the upper hand.

As cornered as it had made him feel, his friends’ ambush had served one purpose: he knew where he needed to go to collect his things. A quick stop during which he was viciously grateful his landlord and lady weren’t home, and he was free to put the garrison and its Musketeers at his back and start walking.

He was gone from Paris by nightfall.

On AO3 here

#angst #unhappy ending #Fic #fanfiction #fanfic #my fic #the musketeers #d'artagnan #crossposted on ao3 #bbc musketeers

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silver-wield · 4 years

Note

(1/3) Agreeing with the 🌼 anon. That blogger didn’t use “woman empowerment” but she did use “female assertiveness”, and she’s actually an abuse victim herself. Only problem is that she seems to invalidate people who’ve had different abusive/uncomfortable and toxic experiences with behaviors like Aerith’s. I think she raises some good points about the use of the word “abusive” in fandom spaces, but her assumption that the people speaking out haven’t suffered abuse is what makes me critical.

(2/3) She’s recently talked about how Tifa forced Cloud to do things as well. I’m of the opinion that the two situations are largely different for a variety of reasons. Cloud never outright tells Tifa “no” and has it ignored. His grumping is often just a front. With Aerith, on the other hand, he’s consistently uncomfortable. Forced to take little to no pay for his work, faced with people who don’t take no for an answer, and is prevented from leaving by Aerith intercepting him.

(3/3) I said “prevented from leaving” when I should have said she exhibited some truly stalkerish behavior and jumped out at him in the darkness from an alley as he was trying to go. It’s not exactly shining behavior on her part. Especially when she then delays his leaving even more. I think it’s strange to grasp for a lot of people because Cloud doesn’t put up more of a fight, but I also think some manipulation tactics were put into play.

(4/5) Anon who agrees with 🌼 again. The issue has been bothering me a bit because she does raise a good point: why doesn’t Cloud ask anybody else for help? I was wondering if you could answer that question (no pressure, of course). What bothers me the most is that this blogger keeps assuming people are mentioning this as a way to justify hating a character. She implies that the people speaking up haven’t experienced abuse and that they only know it as an abstract concept.

(5/5) That’s incredibly damaging to a lot of people. I myself liked Aerith as a character once I got to know her better, and actually ship her with Cloud (I’m a multishipper), but there’s no ignoring that Aerith acts very strange in chapter 8, at the detriment of Cloud’s consent, comfort, time, and stability. The fact that so many people have spoken up about this isn’t a coincidence. People with bad experiences are coming out and getting disregarded. That shouldn’t be happening.

Apologies for the long post 😅 I hope you don’t mind. I’m pretty impassioned about this issue, honestly. Because I do actually agree with the blogger on multiple points, but find that she seems to keep missing the issue and hurting other people in the fandom. Cloud doesn’t need to be held at gunpoint to be put into an uncomfortable (and possibly dangerous - he doesn’t know Aerith all that well) situation. She’s right about how certain words are misused, but she’s dodging the heart of the issue.

Honestly, it’s exhausting how these people take concepts they don’t understand and slap them on shit that’s the exact opposite like if they scream they’re right enough people will believe them.

It takes as long as your browser and typing speed to look shit up.

Assertiveness is the quality of being self-assured and confident without being aggressive.

WITHOUT.

Assertiveness is not gender oriented, so what the fuck even are people blabbing about now? Female assertiveness? Gimme a break. Being assertive is a character trait. Some people are naturally assertive, while others need to learn how to stand up for themselves. Like a particular spiky haired protagonist.

Aerith’s not assertive, she’s pushy because she doesn’t respect Cloud, and respect is part of being assertive. Being able to get your point across without being a douchebag about it. Like how certain people are constantly screaming how they’re right and dragging everyone else through the mud. Those people aren’t assertive because assertiveness is a positive trait. It implies confidence in oneself and one’s ideals. There’s no need to be a dick to people because they believe in their viewpoint and see no reason to pull others down.

Ex: I’m both assertive and can be a dick because one of my other traits is petty bench, but on the whole I’m assertive without activating that petty bench mode until people piss me off because I operate on a respect and respect alike policy. If people come to me and give me shit then they shouldn’t expect flowers in exchange.

Back to the thing.

Aerith talks over Cloud, ignores his opinion, bullies him into doing what she wants “this is the plan, Cloud, and you’ll learn to love it” and deliberately ignores the fact he says no. That line creeps me tf out and it obviously does Cloud too because he literally steps up to her and says “what?” in an aggressive voice. Cloud has a limit and Aerith was very close to going over it.

Cloud. said. no.

And guess what? Cloud’s not assertive. Not for himself. Not until he’s pushed beyond normal means.

He couldn’t say no to Jessie, despite not being happy about the job. He couldn’t refuse to help Aerith, despite not wanting to fight Reno -- he knows how tough Turks are, he’s not an idiot -- and then he got compensated with a date that made Reno call him a weirdo (and he never accepted it either, so Aerith’s yet another person in sector 5 who took him for a fool). So, yeah, no goddamn wonder Cloud’s reluctant to argue when Aerith could ruin his hard won reputation inside of an afternoon. He says “That wasn’t the deal” when she tries to force him to stay, but can’t keep insisting when that doesn’t work. Because Cloud is shy af. Were people not paying attention to the promise? To CC? That’s real Cloud and real Cloud makes up the core of soldier Cloud. He’s a shy, awkward boy who could barely speak to his crush. He didn’t get along with others because he’s introverted. He’s quiet and reserved. Just because he kicks all the ass doesn’t change that about him.

Cloud isn’t a talker. Everyone knows this about him. It’s a canon fact. So, not being a talker, being reserved, quiet, introverted, unable to speak up for his own sake when he wants something that together showcases someone who isn’t good at standing up for himself. He tries. He tried so hard to refuse Aerith, but he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He either got lost trying to get home or he put up with the pushy girl who keeps making him do shit he doesn’t want to. He sighs and pulls faces and doesn’t look happy. He wants to go home. He still said no several times to her whenever she tried to waylay him further. She didn’t care about what he wanted. That doesn’t make her assertive. It makes her the asshole because she has no respect for him.

People think that because he called Jessie desperate that it meant he wanted to stay with Aerith. That he’s capable of speaking up for himself. Nope With Jessie, he’d had a long ass day of work and longer ass night, been excluded by both Barret and the Avalanche trio, made to break into Jessie’s house (which doesn’t sit well with Cloud’s actual moral compass), then did a bunch more difficult shit fighting off Shinra and then literally jumped off the plate. Okay?! Cloud had a long ass day and it was like 4am by that point and he was tired. Anybody tries to say after that much work they’d be nice Imma call them a goddamn liar.

Aerith refused to tell Cloud the way home, absolutely prevented him from leaving, made him do a bunch of work for shitty or no pay, belittled and insulted him, then barricaded the hallway so he couldn’t escape and stalked him to the exit when he escaped. He literally pulls a yessh face after reluctantly agreeing to let her show him how to get home. And then when they get there she withholds vital information for how he can actually get into the sector (or did people not notice him saying the giant gate was shut too?) until she gets what she wants out of him. And he sighs. Again. He has no say in anything because Aerith doesn’t listen to anyone but herself. The only reason he starts being nice to her is she tries to get info about Zack out of him and Cloud’s a nice guy who feels sorry for her. He knows he’ll never see her after this (or did people also misinterpret that reaction to Elmyra? Probably, since the only person he’d want to make a normal life with is Tifa, so being told he can’t is gonna get a reaction duh), so why be a dick to a girl who’s obviously upset about her boyfriend? Literally the second he saw Tifa -- barely even saw her because he knew that was her from the back of her head, her shoulder and hands -- he ran to her. He forgot Aerith even existed. But, sure, please do focus on the fact that he respected Tifa enough to do as she asked after an entire goddamn day of being disrespected by someone else. He’s not gonna treat Tifa the way he was just treated by Aerith. He actually cares about her.

And what did they think the message in Stand Up was? It’s not about dancing ffs. Andrea’s telling Cloud not to be afraid to be himself. That means speaking up for himself too, not about being real Cloud, which is a message he wouldn’t even understand at that point because he’s soldier Cloud and not aware of real Cloud. Andrea figured out Cloud right away. He saw a boy who’d do anything for the woman he loved, even let himself get pressured into something he’d be embarrassed by. That’s what stand up means in relation to Cloud.

Tifa never forced Cloud to do anything. She asked him to go with her to collect filter money, then immediately backtracked when she realised she’d have to pay him for that too. Cloud agreed and smiled at her. She also let him keep all of the money they got, which in the end gave him a grand total of 2150 gil, not the 2000 he was promised, so they overpaid him to make up for the delay.

She also asked him after the first quest “what do you want to do now?” and he said “Dunno,” so she made a suggestion. There’s no force behind that. He could refuse and go take a nap or something. She spent the day getting him work and helping him with that work, so much so that he was fully prepared to split the fee with her. Unlike with Aerith.

I could go on and on about this because I’ve gone over that chapter so many times. I don’t just replay odd chapters to get stuff, I replay the entire game, so I get to see the development of everything as it unfolds and see those connections between things that I overlooked before because I was too busy looking at something else. People think because they spend umpteen hours in sector 5 that Cloud did too. Nope. Cloud was there for around 11 hours before he left.

It was morning when he woke and since in December the sun would rise around 8am, that’s the earlier possible time that it could’ve been. In fact it could’ve been later. Cloud and Aerith spend several hours getting back to the sector so that it’s close to dinner time when they arrive. She then makes him do odd jobs for a few hours and then they eat and Cloud has a nap -- because he literally has a dream. You know, that thing people keep clinging to. He can’t dream if he’s not asleep. When he wakes up it’s dark and since it’s past dinner time, it’s around 6-7pm when he escapes and makes for the sector 6 exit. And that’s chapter 8.

Chapter 9 takes around 4 hours for them to complete. They spend a couple of hours fighting in the coliseum, then Cloud messes around while Aerith’s getting ready, which from Madam M seems to take around an hour. That leaves the rest of the time for the honey bee inn show, getting Cloud changed, walking to Corneo’s and the bit in the dungeon. Then they get dropped in the sewers.

Do you see how little time Cloud actually spent with Aerith? He’s known her for like 15 hours total before he reunites with Tifa. And people think he fell in love with her? Ew. Even Disney knew better than to try that.

#ship war #for common sense #long post #for the cinnamon roll

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marlinspirkhall · 4 years

Text

Tomorrow Never Comes, Chapter 05: “Resolution”

CW: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Chapter Word Count: 2,298 words

[Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6]

“Tell me everything you learned when my memory kept getting wiped,” Jim says.

“There is not much to tell. Leland and I attempted everything you and I have-” seeing Jim’s face, he pauses. “It was not a waste of time. Failure on the first attempt does not preclude the possibility of success on the second”

The news that he was murdered multiple times hasn’t sparked any grand realisation as of yet. Mostly, it’s just made him angry, but he tries not to show it. Despite the recent realisation that their dilithium crystals have begun to drain, noticeably- confirming that they will run out, eventually- they sit side by side in a tense silence as the shuttle whizzes through space. Jim taps his fingers on his side of the dashboard, and turns to Spock.

“Stop here; I want to try something.”

They land on the same planet as their first outing; but on a different beach, with actual sand.

“For variety’s sake,” Jim says, with a slight smile.

“Variety,” Spock says, dryly, as they approach the shoreline. “I must admit; I thought you brought me here to kill me.”

“You- what?!” Jim wheels on him. “And you just- got in the shuttle?”

Spock tilts his head. “At the time, the reaction did not seem disproportionate.”

“Right.” Jim sits down on the sand, and looks up at him. “And now that you’re about to be- ah- executed?” He squints as he leans back, temporarily blinded by the iridescent sand.

Spock says nothing, and sits on the sand, a short distance from him. A strong breeze picks at strands of his hair, and Jim sighs.

After a moment, the sun begins to descend, and Jim looks up. “This is what I like about space travel. Even the sunset isn’t a fixed phenomenon. Theoretically- if you wanted to- you could manipulate it. Park your spaceship in a different position on the planet’s surface, so you could view it as many times as you liked. It’s not always spontaneous. But, if you’re really lucky, you get to experience this, with someone you-” he stops.

“What?” Spock asks, quietly.

“Care about,” Jim finishes, softly. He clears his throat. “I mean, how many other people do you think have got to witness this exact view?”

Spock considers for a moment. “The Klingons,” he says, firmly.

Jim laughs. “Spock, I-”

A twinkle catches his eye.

The purple sunset dissolves into the vast tapestry of night, and, as the sand twinkles out, the sky itself becomes a glittering canvas. At the last moment, Jim turns to him, as the last embers of sunlight illuminate his hair.

“So, what do you want to do?” Jim whispers. “Do you want to chase the sunset? Have another go?”

Spock rests his head against his shoulder, and almost smiles.

As the days pass- or, don’t pass- they continue their attempts to escape. Sometimes, it looks like they might be getting somewhere- as far as they can while still avoiding Klingon space- but, at some point every morning, no matter how far they go, the clock resets. Heirin pulls them backwards like an elastic band, and they wake up back on the planet.

“How far did we make it this time?”

“Five point nine light years further than our last attempt.”

Jim grits his teeth. “Then we should try going in that direction. Maybe we’re onto something.”

For the most part, the Iclixi have remained neutral in the Klingon-Romulan-Federation conflict, and, as a result, not much is known about them. Still, one thing is clear: they don’t like visitors.

“So, that’s why Leland asked me about base ten,” Jim says, breathless, as an asteroid explodes behind them. Escaping death has lost its excitement in some ways, but fleeing missiles- that’s fairly new.

Spock nods stiffly, his eyes locked on the controls, and Jim begins to use his own console to hack into the Iclixian database.

“Base six,” Jim murmurs, as he surveys the structure of the numbers on his console. “If it’s true that that these guys have four arms, then they must only have two digits on each hand.”

Spock runs a hand through his hair. “Jim-”

“I know.” Jim begins entering numbers frantically, and looks up. “What happened the first time you were here-?” The shuttle veers to the left.

Spock’s eyes dart to him, then back to the viewscreen.

“- Right.” Jim types faster. “Well, if I’m right, this should make us blind to their sensors.” And, if he’s wrong, they’ll find themselves back on Heirin.

With no memory of this.

He slams a button down at the same moment Spock pulls the shuttle into a nosedive. Outside the back window, the two missiles continue on a straight path, directly ahead. Jim waits with baited breath, but no more missiles are deployed.

He collapses back in his chair with an exhausted whoop.

They make their way through the rest of the Iclixi system without further disturbance, and Jim’s eyelids begin to droop.

“How long have we been awake?” He yawns.

“Twenty seven hours and… thirteen minutes,” Spock replies.

Jim pats him on the shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep first?”

“Negative. Vulcans-”

“Require less sleep than humans, I know.” Jim rises, and curls up at the back of the shuttle, with a tired smile. This time, he thinks, as he drifts off, we might actually make it.

Jim rolls over, and snuggles into something soft. He feels well-rested.

Which only means one thing.

His eyes snap open, and he sits bolt upright. “Spock.”

He rushes to the main bedroom, and throws the door open. The room is much more orderly than it was before. Spock opens his eyes, and sits up suddenly,

“Jim?” He reaches for him, frowning. “I did not fall asleep-”

“I know,” Jim murmurs, “But what happened? What’s the last thing you remember?” He takes hold of Spock’s hands, and kneels on the edge of the bed, checking him over- although, of course; there isn’t a scratch on him.

“I… blinked,” Spock realises.

Jim slumps.

They can’t take shifts blinking.

As they begin to search for alternate routes through Klingon space, Jim finds something which he’d previously overlooked.

Boreth.

‘There’s a planet in the Klingon empire called ‘Boreth’ which is the only place in the known universe to contain a mineral known as ‘poH qut’. Translated to Standard, it means ‘time crystal’.’ Jim had never heard of them before, but the more he reads, the more familiar it sounds. For the most part, research on them is scarce, but there are isolated reports- mostly anecdotal- of users becoming trapped in time loops, triggered either intentionally or accidentally. In both instances, though, the loop is triggered by the spilling of innocent blood.

Jim cross-references it with any references to poH qut in the Klingon databases, only to come up short: the Klingons abandoned all experiments with time crystals centuries ago, and the ones which remain on Boreth are closely guarded by an order of monks. There is something, though. Rumours that one of the experiments resulted in a time crystal being hidden at the very core of a planet, before

“...But, even if there is a time crystal at the heart of this planet, that doesn’t help us,” Jim muses. “We don’t have the equipment to locate it or dig it up.”

Spock raises an eyebrow, and says nothing.

Jim claps him on the shoulder. “We’ll find a way out.”

Jim’s desperation only increases as things begin to break around the stronghold. For the moment, it’s mostly small, minor electrical errors- a wire needs reattaching on an upper wall, one of the consoles in the server room stops working, but there are plenty of backups- for now.

They run into problems whenever something needs replacing. They salvage a couple of items from the basement, but the only replacement bulb they can find for the downstairs bathroom emits a bright, irradiated green. Spock begins to exclusively use the upstairs bathroom, explaining that such unrelenting green is every bit as unpalatable to Vulcan retinas as red would be to humans.

Seeing as the shuttle has never been blown up before, the possibility limits the risks they can take, and the experiment is understandably one which they are reluctant to proceed with. If the shuttle doesn’t regenerate, they’ll be even more stuck than before, without a means of escape. Just as Lewis McAllister should have been. The report implies that McAllister simply omitted the miraculous tale of how his dead crew and ship were resurrected each morning before his miraculous escape… But, given the state that the shuttle and the stronghold are currently in, he doubts that was the case. He sighs, and goes over the information that they have once again, from day one to now.

“I suspect,” Spock says, quietly, “The only reason Leland would have needed to learn the hacking procedure himself was if he was planning to kill me.”

Jim holds his hand out, and, tentatively, Spock takes it.

“Alright, new plan,” Jim says, as he steps out of the forest, his shirt spattered with blood. “We do what we came here to do.”

Spock blinks at him, possibly confused by the blood stains.

“I mean: I take the outpost down, then we travel out to meet whoever Section-31 is sending. I mean, what have we got to lose? If we get it wrong, won’t we just wake back up here again?”

“With no memory of this,” Spock points out.

Jim sighs. “I’ve thought of that. And- has it ever occurred to you that we

Spock shakes his head. “The first day I remember, the stronghold was as it was the day before. And, we can tell

“If we can work out some sort of back-up-plan, a way to send a message to ourselves in case our memories get erased again…” Jim glances at the shuttle, and heads towards the server room.

As they fly through space, Jim turns to Spock with a nervous smile.

“So. Who’s coming to meet us?”

A shadow flickers across Spock’s face. “Agent Georgiou.”

“Georgiou?” Jim frowns. “Phillipa Georgiou? Wasn’t she a Starfleet Captain? I thought she was killed in the battle at the binary stars?”

Spock’s eyes flash. “She is not who she appears to be,” he says. “Whatever you think; you cannot trust her.” As usual, his expression is unreadable.

The shuttle bleeps, as an unseen ship hails them. It pulls into view up ahead

There’s a strange, unfamiliar weapon on the top of the ship, jutting out at the font. It’s twice as long as the hull of the shuttle, and looks as if it’s been compacted down. The front of it is coiled, like some sort of drill-bit. Before Jim can question it further, Spock answers the hail- audio only.

“Agent Georgiou,” he murmurs.

“Spock. I almost shot you out of the sky,” the voice purrs. “You’re early. A day early.”

Spock straightens. “And yet, our mission is complete.”

“Hm.” There’s a bleep as she, presumably, verifies that claim. “You work fast.”

Spock exchanges a look with Jim. “Indeed.”

There’s a pause.

“Where’s Leland?” Her voice acquires a dangerous edge.

“He is- on board.”

“Hm. Unconscious, presumably; otherwise he would have answered me himself.”

“We had a- trying day,” Spock says, haltingly.

Jim’s heart hammers in his chest, and he squeezes Spock’s shoulder.

“Scan us,” Spock says.

“Oh, I did. There are two life-signs on your ship. One human, one half-Vulcan. I have no guarantee that Leland is one of them.”

There’s a pause.

“Unless you turn on your vidscreen, of course.”

“It was damaged in our escape with The Klingons.”

“How convenient. I assume Leland was injured, as well?”

“Yes.”

There’s a beat.

“How do I know that the boy isn’t on board with you?”

“Because we stuck to the plan,” Spock says.

Jim breathes shallowly, and twists his hands together in his lap.

Georgiou’s laugh is distorted. “Plans change. Still, I do not intend to deviate from mine. I was only instructed to meet you and Leland.”

“You were never fond of Leland.”

“That’s true. In many ways, you’ve done me a favour.”

“Spock-” Jim whispers, as the computer readout flashes up red.

“You can do me another favour.”

“She’s locked on weapons-”

The proximity alert bleeps. Spock’s hands find the controls the same time Jim’s do, and they slam the ship into a wild dive. A second later, something glances off the side of the ship, and they’re thrown sideways. Spock cries out. Jim crashes head first into the wall, and his vision goes double.

“Spock…” Jim says, as his eyes flutter shut.

The hum of an engine. Jim’s head throbs.

He sits up with a groan. The shuttle is adrift, and Spock is slouched over the controls, clutching his side and breathing heavily.

“Spock-”

He crawls over to him, and pulls himself into the seat next to him. He touches Spock’s shoulder, and his eyelids flutter. He groans.

“Come on, Spock.” He pulls Spock’s hand away, and it’s green with blood. Cursing, he pulls his jacket off, and winds it round his torso, but it soaks through quickly. Jim’s eyes widen.

If he remembers correctly, Vulcan hearts are further down than humans’.

Heart pounding, he runs to the back of the shuttle, and tears the medkit open. Though the bandages and the dermal regenerator have long since been depleted, he knows that he’s seen-

A hypospray. He grabs it. With one last glance back at Spock, he fills it with a cartridge of anaesthetic. Enough to knock himself out, he hopes. He takes a deep breath. He sits down heavily, places it against his neck, and discharges it with a hiss.

[Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6]

#tomorrow never comes #star trek fic #star trek discovery fic #star trek aos fic #spirk fic

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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years

Note

Please can I ask E, L, O and Z from the writer asks list.

Of course you can! I’m always up for answering things :D

E. Have you ever written a crossover?

Yup! I’ve written a handful of them actually, from my first and only bashing fic Vampire vs Shinobi (Twilight and Naruto - I have always hated Twilight) which ngl is only still up on my accounts because it’s something I’ve written and if I prune fics to only be the ones I’m currently proud of... many fics would not stay up very long. My second-biggest fic, both in terms of wordcount and popularity, it also a crossover. The Combat School was my twist on the super common 2012 trope “the exorcists from the manga D.Gray-Man take part in the Triwizard Tournament”, and was my first 100k word fic and I think still ranks highly if you look at Harry Potter/DGM crossovers on FFN by reviews/favourites/followers. I think at one point it was as high as 4th but I doubt it’s that high any more. Slightly sneaky is my TAG/Fight Rising crossover Stolen Shadows, because strictly speaking you could just call it a dragon!AU for TAG, but they’re based on the fandragons I’ve got for the Tracy boys+Thunderbirds on the site and FR does have its own category on AO3 and FFN.

I think those are my only published ones, but I do enjoy prodding at ‘what if these two ‘verses collided’ in my head so there are a few others floating around that’ll probably never be actually written, but they’re fun to play with.

L. What is your favourite fic idea that you don’t think you’ll ever write?

Oh boy, this one’s tough. I usually try to write everything I think is worth anything, but some of them are just huge, so whether or not they’ll happen is another matter entirely. Because I’m really bored I’ll talk about all the current ‘huge and too ambitious to probably ever finish’ ideas. If they do end up one day happening, ah well, you heard them here first :P

Love Makes Fools (One Piece) - A retelling of the Wano Arc (most likely to be scrapped because the daydreaming I call planning happened long before the arc started so none of it is anything like how Oda’s actually shown) that’s actually a shipping fic, unusually for me. Shachi saves Kid’s life and Kid falls in love with him, leaving Shachi to handle the Kid Pirates while the StrawHeart alliance are off doing their usual crazy shenanigans and winding Kaido up.

Fight Against the Tide (Boku no Hero Academia) - A retelling of the entire manga except it’s not Izuku that’s Quirkless, but Bakugo, and unlike Izuku, Bakugo is determined to make it on his own and turns down the offer of One for All (but still manipulates All Might into training him). Lots of Bakugo and Mei chaos as she gives him the support gear he needs to keep up without a Quirk.

If They Never Were (One Piece) - A retelling of the entirety of One Piece (ahahah) except if Luffy never met Shanks and therefore a) never wanted to be a pirate and b) never ate the Gomu Gomu no Mi. Follows Luffy’s adventures in the Marines, and explores what would have happened to the rest of the Straw Hats if they never met Luffy - or at least, never met pirate!Luffy. I actually have a cast of OCs ready to go for this but this project is so ludicrously big I doubt it’ll ever be finished.

TAGxPJO thing - The Greek Gods foresaw the creation of IR and agreed with it, but there was one problem: the Tracy family are all suited to the sky, but most of the Earth is covered in water. Cue Gordon Tracy, son of Lucille Tracy and... Poseidon! The Tracys all know about demigods and gods and stuff but still consider Gordon their full brother, and to keep the monsters away from the powerful young demigod they ended up on the island where Poseidon could protect them (and a promise from Zeus that he won’t blast Thunderbirds out of the sky for having a son of Poseidon in them). Chiron’s going crazy knowing there’s a demigod out there somewhere that he can’t find and train.

TAGxDCMK thing - Okay, so this one is probably my absolute favourite. Scott sees something on a rescue that the Black Org didn’t want him to, so he got APTX’d, and TB1 got stolen. Conan and Haibara take him in and hide him from the world (including his own family) and he joins the fight to take down the BO. Meanwhile, the Tracys are going crazy looking for Scott. In this AU no-one knows who IR really are, so Conan and co. don’t know Scott’s real name. However, the Tracys are still a rich family so they’ve rubbed shoulders with the Kudos before and Scott’s met Shinichi as a kid and realises who he is. At some point they end up going to Tracy Island? idk, not sure where it would go after that. And KID is involved because you can’t not involve KID.

O. Is there any fandom you’ve been into that you haven’t written fic for? Why not?

Many, usually because I’m just not inspired enough to actually write anything for them. If they’ve got a really complex canon, or something I just can’t get my head into, I tend to not write, either. Same with if there’s a character I can connect to enough. Examples include Homestuck, JoJo’s Bizarre Adventures (although I do have a vague wip for a Steel Ball Run fic, actually) and Miraculous Ladybug, but I’m sure there’s more if I think harder.

Z. Post an excerpt from either your first fic or your most recent one.

Oh hell, why don’t we do both so I can cringe and cry and what I used to be like vs what I’m like now. Going with posted only (wips are a whole other kettle of fish).

First ever posted fic, from September 2009: Unwanted (Naruto). The opening:

There was not a sound to be heard. For once, there was no breeze caressing the emerald leaves in the forest surrounding Konoha. Not a single bird sang; nothing stirred. The bright blue sky didn't contain one cloud - the sunshine was unbroken.

A raven haired teenager stood in the heart of the wood, gazing emotionlessly at the Village Hidden in the Leaves with cold, black eyes.

"It's changed," he murmured quietly. There was a rustle behind him and his three companions appeared.

"So there's your hometown, Sasuke," the silver haired shinobi said, violet eyes inspecting the village. "It's pretty busy." He was right - they could just about make out the general hubbub of village life. The dark haired adolescent said nothing.

"What's wrong, Sasuke-kun?" the only kunoichi in the team asked, putting one hand on Sasuke's chest where his shirt was open, and the other embracing him. He shrugged her off coldly.

"Quit flirting with Sasuke you cow, Karin," the silver haired ninja told the red head.

"I'm not a cow, Suigetsu you...you..." she spluttered, unable to think of a bad enough insult.

"Shut up you two," the final member of the team said quietly, his fiery eyes glinting in the sunlight. Karin and Suigetsu quickly stopped bickering. With much trepidation, Sasuke started to walk towards the gate. He hadn't eaten for days - starving himself, pushing himself further. His vision blurred slightly, but he carried on walking. It wasn't long, however, before everything went black and he fainted.

Most recent fic, from July 2020: Grounded (Thunderbirds). The ending:

"Scott?" Virgil sounded worried, and he opened his eyes – when he had closed them? – to look up at his worried brother. Alan and Gordon hovered nearby, and he looked at them all in turn, even John's silent hologram – his ginger brother hadn't been there when the test had started, hadn't been expected after he pointed out their holotech's range didn't reach that far. "Are you okay?"

Was he okay? He had a broken rib, was recovering from a near-fatal spider bite and its side effects of dehydration, bradycardia and hypotension, and the man who had almost killed his brothers multiple times was standing the other end of the same balcony.

But they were one step, one significant step closer to Dad.

"Yeah," he said, staring out past them, at the platform cradling the most important engine International Rescue had ever created. For the first time since that horrid trash mine day five weeks earlier, he could honestly say, "I'm okay."

I’ll leave you guys to be the judge on whether or not I’ve improved at all. I’d like to think I have.

#ask #hedwigstalons #not fic #unwanted #grounded

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silverlightqueen · 5 years

Text

Ruin My Life - Part 5

RML masterlist

fratboy!jimin - so much smut !!! fluff, angst to come

Summary - good news for y/n ! and then fratboy!Jimin gets angry after you tease him

Word Count - 5.8k+

Warnings - this is just disgusting ngl. explicit sex, unprotected sex, possessiveness, degradation, explicit dirty talk, DOM!JIMIN, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral sex (male and female receiving), overstimulation, use of toys, lowkey bondage, pussy slapping, tit-fucking, sexting, cumplay, edging, forced orgasm, basically e v e r y t h i n g lol

a/n: I know this is really quick after part 4 but i was so excited and it’s nearly 3am here and i was just on a mad one so here ya go. I am so sorry about how filthy it is (and the lack of editing too) lmao

silverlightqueen masterlist

‘Guess what?’ I exclaim, running into the kitchen. Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung are all in here, eating breakfast, and they all look up in surprise when I come in. ‘Good morning to you too,’ Yoongi says drily. ‘Okay, good morning. But guess what?’ I say, practically jumping on the spot. ‘What, princess?’ Jimin asks me, and I grin. ‘I got my period!’ I exclaim. Jin jumps up and wraps his arms around me in excitement, Namjoon and Taehyung doing the same. I go over to Jimin who grins at me, pulling me onto his lap and pressing his lips to mine. ‘Congratulations,’ Yoongi says drily as Jimin smothers my face in kisses, coaxing giggles from me. ‘Happy, princess?’ he asks, and I nod, smiling widely. ‘I guess little Taemin doesn’t exist, huh?’ he says, almost sadly, and I supress a laugh. I’ve already cried in the bathroom because I got my hopes up about having a kid with him, but then I realised that it’s better this way so I’ve put on a brave face and mustered up some excitement about it. ‘Aww, poor hyung wanted a kid,’ Taehyung says jokingly, and I shake my head at him in annoyance. ‘I’m relived though, to be honest. Now I can still wreck her shit without worrying about hurting our baby,’ Jimin says, the boys groaning. ‘Maybe I can join this time instead of Kook,’ Tae suggests, both Jimin and I sighing. ‘He’s already asked me twice this morning,’ Jimin tells me, and I laugh despite myself. ‘You’re nothing if not persistent, Taehyung,’ I say, and he nods in agreement, laughing.

‘Do you mind giving me a lift back to mine and Mija’s apartment? We’re going out for coffee in a couple hours,’ I ask Jimin, and he nods instantly, pressing gentle kisses to my jaw. ‘Oh, so you haven’t moved in here then? I thought you had?’ Namjoon teases and I stick my tongue out at him. ‘Not yet anyway,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘Where’s Mija?’ I ask Tae, and he shrugs. ‘When I went back upstairs last night, she was gone,’ he says, and I feel a little bit of panic. ‘Did you two… you know?’ I ask, and Tae shakes his head. ‘Clearly she’s not into me like that,’ Taehyung says, and I pat his shoulder. ‘She’s just closed off, Tae. I’ll speak to her later,’ I say, and he nods. ‘Keep visiting us, okay, y/n?’ Jin says, and I nod. ‘Don’t worry, you won’t be rid of me that easy,’ I joke. ‘We’re having a party next Saturday again, okay? Make sure you come,’ Namjoon says. ‘I will, definitely,’ I say. ‘And not just for a booty call this time. Actually spend some time with the rest of us,’ Yoongi says, and I nod, laughing. ‘Go get your stuff and we’ll go,’ Jimin says, and I nod, getting up. I run up to his room, trying to avoid anyone else on the way, and collect up all my stuff, putting into the big bag that Mija brought all my stuff in yesterday. ‘Ready?’ Jimin says from the door. He’s wearing just his black sweatpants from last night, socks on his feet too now. ‘Shall I take the morning-after pills and pregnancy tests?’ I ask him, and he shakes his head. ‘Leave them here. We fuck here more than at yours,’ he says. ‘I bet you just want them for your other hoes,’ I joke, and he grins, pulling me into his arms, our bodies flush against each other. ‘You’re the only ho I have,’ he says, and I gasp. ‘I love it when you’re romantic,’ I say, and he laughs, pressing his lips to mine. ‘You’re cute, babe. Take some of the tests and pills just in case,’ he says, and I nod, laughing. I pack them into my bag and we head downstairs. I’m dressed in the white hoodie Jimin gave me last night and a pair of black cycling shorts that Mija brought over yesterday.

‘See you guys later. Next weekend, yeah?’ I say, and the boys all nod, bidding me goodbye. Jimin and I head out to his car (a flashy sports car because who would expect anything less from fuckboy Jimin?) and he holds the door open for me. I thank him and take the passenger seat I’d sat in so many times, turning on the radio as he comes to take the driver’s seat. As soon as he’s started up the engine and reversed out from the large ASP driveway (doing that insanely attractive thing that has me actually salivating for him - when boys put their hand on the back of the passenger seat and look behind to reverse, manipulating the wheel with just the one hand), the hand that isn’t resting gently on the wheel comes to rest on the bare skin of my thigh. I don’t even flinch, because his hands are on me more often than not, and he starts to make small talk with me. We talk about our lessons and stuff, and then he brings up something very interesting. ‘So, yeah, I’ll be getting extra credit towards my degree and being paid if I teach this dance class to dance majors. It’ll only be for a couple months, I think, and it’s on a Thursday morning, which is perfect, because I spend my Thursday mornings in the studio anyway. And a few of our friends are in the class which is nice. Jeongyeon was the one who told me about the vacancy, actually,’ he says, and I try not to react to the name. ‘Jeongyeon?’ I ask, and he looks over at me, nodding. ‘Yeah. You two are friends, right?’ he asks. ‘Were. We were friends,’ I correct him, trying not to physically shake with anger. ‘You fell out? What happened?’ he asks, and I supress a laugh. ‘Nothing, nothing. We just grew apart, I guess. It’s not the end of the world,’ I say, and he looks at me curiously, obviously wanting to know the details but not pushing me for them. ‘Oh, well, recently, we’ve been speaking a bit more, I guess, and she texted me about it last night,’ he says, and I nearly laugh aloud.

‘Well, it sounds like a great opportunity. What time does it start?’ I say, and he grimaces. ‘7.30, until 11.00. We have a half-hour break at 9.00 until 9.30 though,’ he says, and I grimace too. ‘That’s tough. I’m free on Thursday mornings, though, so I can bring you breakfast or coffee or something during your break,’ I say, and he smiles softly, squeezing my thigh gently. ‘You don’t have to wake up that early,’ he says. ‘I go to the gym at 9 anyway. I can just delay it half an hour to come see you first,’ I say, and he grins widely. ‘That’ll definitely make my morning better then,’ he says, and I smile despite myself. ‘You flirt,’ I say half-heartedly, and he chuckles. ‘It’s true! Anyway, anyway, have you not got any cramps? You usually get really bad on your first day, right?’ he asks, and my heart warms at the fact he remembers. ‘I do, but I’ve been fine today so far. I’ll probably get bad later though,’ I say, deflating at the thought. ‘Well, keep me updated on when your bleeding stops. Just so I know when I can come over,’ he says with a grin, and I slap his thigh gently. ‘I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I was thinking I can come pick you up tomorrow night, and we can go out for dinner. I would suggest tonight but I’ve got training,’ he says, and I’m not even surprised anymore.

He clearly wants a relationship, without the commitment, which is something I realised this morning. He wants to do absolutely everything that’s involved in a relationship, especially the sex, but he doesn’t want the relationship itself. God knows why, because he managed to stay loyal to me when we were fucking a couple years ago. There’s no point questioning it anymore. It is what it is, I guess. I’m gonna end things soon, hopefully. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s just so hard. He can just shoot me that killer eye smile of his and I’m a goner. He’ll bust out a romantic line and I’ll be swooning. A flash of his abs and I’m slavering. How am I supposed to end things with him? I’m an absolute mess. A sucker for him. He could step on me and I’d probably say thank you because of how whipped I am. If he asked me if he could piss on me, I probably would let him. Okay, no, that’s a tad too far.

‘y/n? Are you even listening to me?’ he asks, pulling me out of my reverie. ‘Sorry, I was daydreaming. What did you say?’ I ask, and he smiles to himself. ‘I said, do you want to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night? I’ll take you somewhere fancy like you always wanted to?’ he says again, sounding nervous this time. ‘Yeah, of course,’ I say, smiling at him, watching as a grin breaks across his face. ‘I’ll book somewhere nice, and I’ll keep it a surprise,’ he says as he pulls up beside my accommodation building. ‘Okay. Text me what time we’re going,’ I say to him, getting ready to get out, and he nods. ‘See you later, princess,’ he says, pulling me towards him by my chin and pressing his lips to mine briefly. ‘Bye, Jimin,’ I reply, getting out of the car. I head towards the building, listening out for him to leave but he doesn’t yet. When I get inside the building, I turn to look back and he’s still there, grinning at me. I roll my eyes, waving, before heading up to my room, my head in a whirl.

I’m horny. Hornier than I’ve ever been before. Normally, I would blame it on my period, but getting home yesterday, changing my barely spotted pad, only to wake up this morning and find it completely clean of any blood, has me believing that I’m no longer on my period. I’ve always been relatively irregular, and I’m slightly stressed at the moment, so maybe I’ve been blessed with a really short period. But maybe it’s a curse. Because all I can think of is the fact that I could be having sex right now, but I’m not. Because Jimin’s in a lecture. I’ve every mind to call Jungkook instead, but I know Jimin would punish me, and not in a pleasurable way, so instead I lie on my bed, trying to stop myself from either touching myself or texting Jimin until his lecture’s finished. Unfortunately, my self control’s never been fantastic and so it’s not long until I’m typing out a message to Jimin.

y/n: daddy

y/n: I really need you rn

It’s only a few seconds later that I see that he’s typing, and a shiver runs through me. Out of nerves or excitement, I don’t know.

Jimin: y/n I thought you were on your period ???

y/n: I was, but it finished already

y/n: you know how irregular I am

y/n: but Jimin, I’m so fucking horny right now

y/n: I need you so bad

I already know I’m in for it when he’s typing for a while, obviously not sure what to say.

Jimin: y/n I’m in a fucking lecture

Jimin: can this not wait another half an hour ?

y/n: but daddy I’m so desperate

I hesitate to send what I want to send but then decide. Fuck it.

y/n: I need your fingers filling me up

Jimin: y/n I swear to god

y/n: I wanna choke on daddy’s cock

y/n: I want daddy to fill me up and fuck me full of his cum until I’m crying

Jimin: y/n you’re playing a dangerous game

y/n: but daddy I’m so horny

y/n: I’m gonna have to touch myself if I don’t have your cock in me soon

He and I both know I never would, but I decide to push it that bit further.

Jimin: don’t you fucking dare

y/n: but daddy I’ll send you a voice note of my moans

y/n: I’ll send you a video of my fingers trying to fill me up the way yours do daddy

Jimin: I’m going to fucking ruin you when I get out of this lecture little girl

Jimin: you’re not getting away with being such a dirty little slut

y/n: more daddy send me more

Jimin: is my little whore getting off to these threats ?

Jimin: you want daddy to wreck you ?

y/n: yes daddy, please

y/n: make me your bitch daddy

y/n: fill me up with your cum

y/n: I want it pouring out of me

y/n: I want people to be able to smell it, to know that my daddy fucks me so good

I don’t send another, waiting for a reply, and when it takes ages to get one, I fear I’ve pushed him too far. And then he starts typing.

Jimin: I want you ready when I get there

A bolt of fear but also anticipation runs through me, and I instantly jump up from my bed, pulling off my sweats to run a razor over my legs (and other areas), just to get rid of the few stray hairs that seem to never want to leave. I run a brush through my hair and put on some perfume before putting on some pretty black lingerie. I quickly put a bit of makeup on, just doing my lipstick when I hear the front door open and close. It must be Mija, because Jimin won’t have been that quick (it’s only been ten minutes) and he can’t get into the apartment anyway. She usually gets home this time anyway. I feel sorry for her because I’m pretty sure she’ll be scarred when she hears me and Jimin in a little while. Just as I’m about to step out of my bathroom, the door flies open, Jimin stood in the door way. He looks fuming, eyes hooded and hair wrecked from his hand running through it. His also looks delectable, dressed in a black playboy sweater and blue ripped jeans, a black cap on his head and silver earrings and rings setting off his tanned skin.

‘In the bedroom, and on your fucking knees,’ he spits at me, and I feel the slick pooling in my expensive panties already. He moves to the side to let me past, and I do instantly, not daring to disobey him. I drop to my knees, facing him, and watch as he slowly walks towards me. ‘That shit you pulled, that’s not gonna happen again, is it, baby girl?’ he asks, voice lower than normal. ‘Depends whether or not I enjoy what you’re about to do,’ I reply in my sweet voice, the one that always gets him to do what I want. He strides towards me, bunching my hair up and tugging it down, forcing my head backwards so I look up at him, my neck bent at an awkward angle. ‘Whores always enjoy their punishment,’ he spits down at me, our eyes locked together. ‘Look at you, all dressed up, hair done, makeup on, just to get dick, right?’ he asks, and I nod as best as I can with his hand gripping my hair. ‘Fucking whore. You don’t deserve my dick,’ he says, releasing my hair harshly and walking over to my wardrobe. I already know what it is he’s getting, and I sigh internally. He pulls the box out from the top drawer, throwing the lid across the room. He pulls out the handcuffs and one of the vibrators, discarding the rest of the box on the bed. He holds out the vibrator to me and I take it in my hands. It’s the one that he controls with a remote. ‘You know where to put it, slut,’ he says, and I do, putting it in my panties, pressed up against my dripping wet core. He steps around me, bending down and cuffing my hands behind my back before going to the bathroom.

I watch as he gets the clean glass sat beside the sink (for the nights when I’m too drunk or tired to go to the kitchen to get water) and fills it up, downing it and putting the glass back down. He heads back towards me, undoing his belt as he does so, watching me with a smirk. If I could imprint this image onto my brain, I would. He pushes his jeans and boxers down slightly, rock hard length springing up against his sweater. ‘Open up, whore,’ he says, and I do so. He plunges into my mouth with no warning, and I splutter around him. With my hands tied behind my back, I can’t even grab onto anything to steady myself, and I feel myself trying to clear my throat around him. He watches me amusedly, the sadistic side of him coming out. ‘I thought you wanted to choke on daddy’s dick, princess?’ he says teasingly, and I look up at him, tears collecting on my lash line. ‘Ready?’ he asks, and my heart warms at the momentary break in his cruel demeanour. I nod as best as I can, and he pulls all the way out of my mouth before plunging all the way back in, balls slapping against my chin. ‘You don’t even know how angry I was in my lecture. Turned on but fucking angry. I had to leave so I told my professor that you’d had an accident and I had to go help you. You’re lucky I didn’t say what I wanted to say. That my princess wanted to act like a little whore so I had to go put her back in her place. I’m gonna fucking wreck your shit, baby girl. You won’t even be able to walk when I’m done with you,’ he says, voice strained as he thrusts into my mouth.

‘I don’t wanna hear a single moan out of your mouth, and if you cum before I let you, I’m gonna make you regret it,’ he says, his hand moving in his pocket before the vibrator in my pants starts to… vibrate. I clench immediately, completely forgetting about Jimin’s cock in my mouth, focused on the gentle vibrations against my folds. He stills in my mouth and I look up at him in confusion, knowing he can’t even be close to cumming yet. ‘Swallow,’ he says, and I do so, taking him further down my throat. He lets out a low groan, the sound going straight to my core, before he collects my hair up in one fist. The vibrations increase in speed and intensity, and I have to supress my moans. ‘And again,’ he says, and I do, taking him even further, my lips at the base of his thick cock. He increases the vibrations again, and I squirm slightly. ‘Ah, fuck, your lips feel so good wrapped around me. Letting daddy fuck your throat like a good little cockslut,’ he growls out, before pulling out of my mouth completely and pulling up his jeans and boxers again. ‘Get up. Let me fuck you,’ he says, and I get up quickly, my hands being tied not hindering me at all. He increases the vibrations further, my knees weakening, and I nearly fall the floor once more. He lets out a harsh laugh, grabbing me by my waist. ‘Look at you. Already struggling? We haven’t even started yet, princess,’ he chuckles, pushing me towards my bed. ‘On your knees,’ he says, and I get on my knees, resting my shoulders against the bed. He pulls my pants aside, removing the vibrator from my folds, and replaces it with his fingers. He scoops up my slick before reaching forward, holding out two of his fingers beside my mouth. I take them into my mouth, tasting myself as he laughs. ‘Look how wet you already are. Just from getting your throat fucked like a whore,’ he says, removing his fingers from my mouth.

‘I don’t wanna hear a sound from you, understand?’ he asks, and I nod. I hear him rooting around in the box again before the noise stops. He tugs my pants down just past my ass, pushing one of my knees slightly further away from the other. And then I hear it. The aggressive vibrations of Jimin’s favourite present that he’s ever bought for me (it was more for himself, let’s be real). I tense up completely, and he lets out a low chuckle. ‘Is my little slut scared now?’ he asks, and I don’t answer, not sure what to say. It seems he doesn’t want an answer, just pressing the Hitachi Wand to my folds. I instantly lurch forward, and he tuts, one palm landing on my ass before he pulls me back into position. ‘Move again and I’ll leave your fucking apartment. I can get myself off without you. It’s not so easy for you, is it?’ he threatens, pressing the wand against my core once more. I try my best to stay still, as he gradually increases his pressure, the head of the wand completely disappearing in amongst my folds. ‘Does that feel good, princess?’ he asks teasingly, and I nod, trying not to verbally convey the waves pleasure coursing through me. ‘You’re doing so well at being quiet, princess. I’m not used to not hearing your pretty little moans,’ he says, making it even harder to stay quiet.

‘Can I hear your pretty moans, princess? I wanna hear you,’ he asks, free hand gently skimming over my ass. ‘Mmm, daddy, feels so good,’ I whimper out, the vibrations making me so weak. ‘Feels good, baby? How about this?’ he asks, moving the wand to gently rest on my clit. I let out a high-pitched moan, back arching further from the bedsheets. ‘Fuck, daddy, don’t stop,’ I whine, and he chuckles before increasing the pressure, the vibrations much more intense. ‘Oh, God, daddy, feels so good,’ I moan, feeling myself nearing my high embarrassingly fast. ‘Does my little girl wanna cum?’ he croons amusedly. ‘Yes, daddy, please, I need to cum,’ I moan, already knowing he’s not gonna let me. ‘Too bad,’ he replies in the same tone, the wand disappearing from my core, my orgasm diminishing. I know better than to complain and so don’t move or say anything, just attempt to get my breath back. He turns off the wand, putting it back into the box, and wraps a hand around my hair, pulling me up towards him. I balance on just my knees as he pulls my body flush to him, his free hand appearing at my throat. Unable to stop myself, I grind back against him, feeling the bulge in his jeans press against my ass. His hand at my throat tightens and I gasp at the feeling, having never been choked by him this hard. ‘Don’t fucking play with me, princess, this is not the time. I’m still deciding what to do with you,’ he growls against my ear. He tugs my pants back up and pulls me up from the bed, waiting until I’m steady on my feet until he lets go of me.

He inspects me, probably looking at the saliva and tears on my face, the messed-up hair and the weak knees. He lets out a low chuckle before his hand appears at my hands, uncuffing me, before they move up, unclasping my bra and pushing it off my shoulders. He pushes the small vibrator back into my soaking panties again, and I try not to shudder. ‘Will you let me try something new with you, baby girl?’ he asks, lips pressed to my ear. ‘Yes, daddy,’ I reply, and he chuckles. ‘On your knees,’ he says, and I drop to my knees, ignoring the pain. He comes to stand in front of me, pulling down his jeans and boxers again. ‘Here’s what’s gonna happen, princess. You’re gonna get me nice and wet again, and I’m gonna fuck those pretty tits of yours. Is that okay?’ he smirks, and I supress a moan at the words, nodding with my lip pulled between my teeth. ‘Open your mouth, princess, gag on my cock again, get me all wet,’ he says, and I close my mouth around him. He thrusts in and out a few times before pulling me off him, his length already covered in my saliva. ‘Push your tits together for me,’ he says, and I do as he says, watching as he admires them. ‘I’ve always loved these. Always wanted to bruise them up, make them mine,’ he says, slapping the flesh of one breast, and I gasp. ‘Hold them together so I can fuck them, princess,’ he says, and I watch as he positions himself at the bottom of my breasts, slowly pushing up and emerging through my cleavage. The pink tip of him pushes through, and I supress a moan at the sight.

I feel the vibrator in my panties start up and I bite my lip as he begins to fuck me harder, his precum leaking all over my chest. ‘That feels so good, princess, hold them tighter,’ he says, and I push them closer in, hearing his breath hitch in his throat. He increases the vibrations again, and I let out a moan unintentionally. Wordlessly, he slaps my other breast, making me gasp again. ‘Shut it, whore, I don’t want to hear you,’ he says, and I bite my lip again. ‘God, I’m gonna cum way too soon at this rate. You’ve got such amazing tits, baby girl, better than any I’ve ever seen,’ he groans out, thrusting a few more times before moving away from me. ‘Hold them there for me, princess,’ he says, watching me in amusement. He lands a few more gentle slaps on each breast, and I know he wants to see bruises on them later. ‘Up, baby girl,’ he says, and I get up, standing in place and waiting for further instruction. The vibrator is still violently throbbing in my pants and it takes every ounce of my strength to not moan.

‘I think I wanna taste your needy little pussy, princess. On your back,’ he says, and I follow his instructions, lying on my back on the bed. Before I can even get comfortable, Jimin’s settling himself between my legs. He tugs my pants down my legs, the vibrator falling to the bedou . He picks it up, grinning, and presses it to my clit, his sinfully plump lips appearing at my slit. He laps up my slick like there’s no tomorrow, having me winding my hands into his hair and pulling him even closer. The long and quick licks from Jimin combined with the vibrator on my clit have me hurtling towards my orgasm. And then his mouth disappears, replaced by his hand sharply coming down onto my swollen lips. Before I can even register the pain of the slap, his lips begin to suck at my core again, curled up into a smirk. I let out broken gasps and moans, Jimin alternating between harsh slaps and eating me out. ‘Fuck, daddy, I’m gonna…’ I trail off, writhing beneath him. ‘You wanna cum, princess?’ he murmurs against my heat. ‘Then fucking cum,’ he demands, and it’s like my body is hanging off his every word, my orgasm hitting me instantly, with such intensity that I’m rendered silent, back completely arched off the bed.

‘That’s my good whore,’ he murmurs, replacing his mouth with his fingers now, pumping in and out of me at an almost painful pace. ‘Daddy, it hurts,’ I whimper, twitching at the overstimulation, and he chuckles. ‘I thought you’d have learnt by now that I don’t care, princess. You wanted to cum, baby, I’m only giving you what you wanted,’ he says amusedly, his fingers curling inside me. I clench around him, the pain slowly becoming pleasure, as the vibrator becomes even more intense, having me whining and whimpering with complete abandon. ‘You take my fingers so well, princess. Such a good little slut, aren’t you?’ he says affectionately as I feel yet another orgasm approaching. ‘Daddy, can I cum?’ I ask, and he laughs. ‘Already? Such a good whore, baby girl. Go on, cum for daddy again,’ he says, and, again, my body complies with his demand, my orgasm washing over me, leaving me completely still on the bed. ‘Did my little girl cum too hard?’ he asks mockingly as I pant, body tensionless. ‘You still haven’t had my cock in you yet, princess, like you wanted,’ he taunts, getting up from the bed and stripping off all his clothes. His dick rests against his abdomen, painfully hard and an angry red, the vein on the underside prominent.

He hovers over me, my legs instinctively coming up to wrap around his waist, and he chuckles. ‘Are you sure you want me raw, princess? I know you said it in your texts, but you were horny and stuff, so I don’t know,’ he says gently, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders. ‘Yes, Jimin, I’ve wanted you raw since you first fucked me,’ I breathe out, and he grins. He slowly sinks in to me, both of us letting out a moan, until he bottoms out, completely filling me up. ‘God, princess, I’ve wanted to raw you since the moment I first laid eyes on you,’ he says, beginning to thrust in and out of me at a slow pace, both of us savouring the initial feeling. ‘Wearing that short skirt and that tight shirt, I wanted to fucking rip it all off you and take you right there on the sofa. Eunwoo was all over you, marking your neck up, to claim you, and all I could think is that I’d do the same if you were mine,’ he says, increasing his pace ever so slightly. ‘You were such a pretty little thing, so good. You tried to push him away, embarrassed that it was in front of everyone, and you gave me the strongest desire to corrupt you. To make you the bad girl, the cockslut, the whore I knew was hiding inside. And look at you now. Texting your daddy to tell me you’re horny, waiting for me in pretty lingerie, letting me fuck your throat and your tits, and begging me to let you cum. God, you were freshmen-me’s dream, princess,’ he groans, his sentences punctuated with moans and whimpers from me. Being able to feel all of him inside me, the veins scraping against my walls and the tip brushing against that spongy spot inside me, combined with his confession has me unable to control myself.

‘Daddy, harder, please,’ I moan, and he chuckles. ‘Beg for it, dirty girl,’ he demands. ‘Please, daddy, fuck me harder, I want you to fuck me so hard I can feel you in my stomach, so hard I can’t walk for days. Turn me into your whore, daddy, make me your little slut,’ I beg, not even thinking before the words come pouring out of my mouth. ‘Fuck, you’re so hot,’ he groans, instantly increasing his pace, the bed beginning to move in time with his hips, the headboard nudging the wall with each thrust. ‘Fuck, I’ll make you into my little bitch, you greedy slut. Such a dirty little whore. So desperate for daddy’s cock,’ he growls, my nails raking down his back as his pace increases more and more, his hips meeting mine again and again. He slams into me, his cock feeling better than ever before, and I moan out his name repeatedly. ‘Cum over my cock, princess, show me how good daddy makes you feel. Soak my cock, baby girl,’ he demands, and only seconds later, I’m clenching around him, body tensing as my orgasm washes over me with a shout. ‘That’s a good girl,’ he praises as I tremble beneath him, body beginning to twitch when his pace increases yet again. I don’t even bother complaining, knowing he won’t listen, so I just lie there, letting him fuck me to his heart’s content.

‘Look at you, princess, letting me overstimulate you with no complaint. You really are turning into a good little cockslut, aren’t you?’ he praises, voice strained as he drills into me. ‘Rub yourself, princess,’ he instructs, but I shake my head, eyes rolling back with the overwhelming feeling of approaching my fourth orgasm. ‘I told you to rub yourself, slut, so fucking do it. I want you soaking my dick again like a good little whore, and I’m not gonna stop until you’ve milked every last drop from my cock,’ he growls, my limp hand appearing between our bodies and rubbing at my abused clit. ‘Cum for me, baby girl. I wanna feel you clench around me while you cum, princess,’ he groans out, moaning when my body follows his command. I see stars as I orgasm, screaming out his name. My vision is swimming and head spinning as I feel Jimin’s hips stutter, hearing him moan my name against my ear as he cums inside me. I can feel his thick release coating my walls as he cums, both of us revelling in the way it feels to have our releases mix together filthily.

Jimin starts to mark up my neck and chest, still buried to the hilt inside me, and it’s only when I get enough energy to swat at him does he cease his ministrations. ‘God, why didn’t we do this before?’ he grins at me, and I roll my eyes. He pulls out of me, coaxing a shiver from me, before moving further down the bed, watching our mixed releases slowly pour out of me. ‘Fuck, that’s so fucking hot,’ Jimin murmurs, fingers collecting up the release and pushing it back into me, filling me back up. He grabs my pants from the foot of the bed and pushes them between my folds, trying to plug our releases inside me. I shudder at the feeling, watching as Jimin gets out of bed, holding out a hand to help me follow suit. ‘How did you even get in?’ I ask, only just remembering the fact that he got in without me letting him in. ‘The key you gave me, two years ago. I kept it with my house and car keys in case of an emergency,’ he tells me. ‘And this was an emergency?’ I ask teasingly, and he nods seriously, before grinning. ‘Right, you need to get ready for tonight, baby girl,’ he says with a smile, reminding me of our dinner date later. ‘I need to have a shower first then,’ I say, and he chuckles, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards him, our naked bodies flush against one another. ‘No, princess, you can’t,’ he says, grinning, and I look at him in confusion. ‘Remember your text? You wanted my cum dripping out of you so other people could smell it and now your daddy fucks you well,’ he reminds me, my body shuddering at his words. ‘You’re gonna keep this panties in you until we leave the apartment later so my cum can keep you filled up all nice and then drip down your leg for everyone to see when we go to dinner,’ he smirks at me devilishly, hands roaming over my body, ‘because after all, your wish is my command, princess.’

#bts #bts series #BTS jimin #jimin #park jimin #bts park jimin #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #BTS au #bts angst #jimin fanfiction #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #park jimin smut #park jimin fanfic

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dogcircle-scans · 5 years

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Hi guys I’m really curious about your take on Matoba’s feelings towards Natsume. Matoba usually seems so sure of himself and unwavering. But considering moments like how he froze when Natsume said that he’s had good encounters & bad encounters both with humans and yokai more or less equivocating them, to which he responds by saying that basically natsume needed to experience being hurt by yokai to learn not to trust them, it does seem like he’s also affected by Natsume 1/

But I’m not sure why/how, esp b/c I think he’s affected differently than Natori is. I think if nothing else he sometimes gets uncharacteristically emotional when Natsume’s around (like the aforementioned angry(?) outburst or his sentimentality in some of the recent chapters) for the same REASON as Natori does – because Natsume’s taking a path he didn’t take. But while we could’ve expected this out of Natori as he sees power/exorcism only as a means to become the person he wants to be and was wavering to start with, because Matoba seems to see power more as an end/is so sure of his path, the meaning of them being shaken by Natsume FEELS different? Gah sorry for the super long question!

Hey, no worries about the long question! But I do have to remind you that, because we are a team here, there are quite a few of us… so it might be best to pin-point one of us when you submit asks like that (unless you really want to find out the views of all of us, then it might be best to mention that too).

Anyways, Jessica usually handles all the asks on the blog, but she said that she liked the analysis I did of Natori and Matoba for the Miharu arc, so she suggested that I take your ask.

We received this a couple months back, but because the answer ended up being super long, it took me a while to actually finish it. But now that we have returned to the exorcists again in the latest chapter (by that, I mean Chapter 100), I realise this is a good time to come back to this ask and finally answer it for real. ^^;;

By the way, THESE ARE ALL MY OWN ANALYSIS AND OPINIONS. Anyone is free to disagree or start a discussion about this. In fact, I greatly welcome it! >w

Anyways, since your ask compares Matoba and Natori to a certain degree, I’ll do a quick run down on my thoughts about Natori’s role and relationship with Natsume in the series.

Natori’s character arc is basically about him wavering between Natsume’s kinder worldview and Matoba’s (or the exorcism world at large) crueler worldview; he doesn’t entirely despise youkai, but he still sees them as a threat to humans. If he is ever pushed to make a decision, he would chose humans over youkai (but I doubt he would make that choice with as much conviction as he says he would).

Story-wise, he pretty much treats Natsume like his younger brother (hinted to be partly because he sees his younger self in the boy). As such, he sometimes come across as being a little overprotective of Natsume, watching over him and protecting him when need be, and trying his best not to get Natsume too involved with exorcists.

Natori doesn’t want Natsume to become too deeply entwined with exorcists, or even the world of youkai. Natori basically sees himself as someone who has experienced more of the horrible side of the youkai/exorcist world compared to Natsume, and is uncomfortable with letting Natsume see and experience these same horrible stuff, which might risk destroying Natsume’s kinder worldview. His reaction towards Natsume is usually a mixture of reluctance, acceptance and awe: that despite not wanting this boy to continue down this path, he also realises that he is not in a position to stop him; and ultimately, Natsume always somehow pulls through, and reminds Natori that there is indeed a different perspective that he can use to view this world.

Okay, so now that we got Natori done, let’s move on to our main topic…

Matoba is quite a complex character, and I have to admit I wasn’t fond of him for most of the series (he has had multiple instances of being manipulative, apathetic, and sadistic; and the fact that many of these were directed to the cinnamon roll that is Natsume doesn’t help his case). Ultimately, I think my apprehension towards him was due to my inability to understand his character and motivations, but after the recent chapters, I’ve started to see a little more into his psyche.

Matoba is someone that was pretty much born into his situation. He inherited the title of the head of his clan and had to shoulder all the things that came with it: the cursed eye, the hatred directed to his clan from youkai and humans alike, and managing the many people under him. His cunning and calculative attitude could be a result of both his innate personality and the highly stressful and dangerous environment he grew up in. And to uphold his position and role, it is no wonder that he would have to firmly believe that youkai would always bring harm to humans, and that his actions, no matter how cruel, were for a just cause.

But thanks to all this, Matoba is a lonely person. He can never fully rely on any youkai because of his distrust of them, and he can never reveal his vulnerabilities to any human because of his position.

In contrast to him, Natsume is surrounded by youkai that protect him to their very last breath, and kind humans that interact with him in his daily life. From Matoba’s perspective, Natsume is his complete opposite, and someone he can never become (they are basically each others foil).

Natsume’s view that humans and youkai are both important to him shakes Matoba’s beliefs that youkai bring harm to humans. But Natsume is also always incredibly empathetic to others, and always attempts to figure out what others are thinking. There have been a couple of instances where Natsume read Matoba’s sometimes cruel actions as concern for his subordinates/other humans, all of which Matoba dismisses.

So back to the thing about how Matoba feels about Natsume… In my opnion, because of this contrast between them, Matoba seems to have become rather fond of Natsume. I think his fondness is pretty obvious by the way he borrows his help when incidents happen, protects him when the boy stumbles into dangerous situations (Chapter 100 is an example), and in the case of the Miharu arc, even open up about a poignant memory in his past with Natori, something that is very out of character. I personally think that Matoba’s attachment to Natsume is a mix of his sadism (to see how long Natsume’s idealism will last), his desire for someone to see him more than the cold and cunning leader of the Matobas, and his own suppressed hope for someone to prove to him that there’s a way to see this world from a different light.

- Niji

#natsume yuujinchou #natsume's book of friends #ask dcs #Natsume Takashi #matoba seiji #natori shuuichi #holy that was one long ask #i'm sorry guys #i think i lost track of what i was trying to say halfway through typing this

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lucimorningstar812 · 4 years

Text

Review of the Decade

From the beginning of 2010 to the very end of 2019, this decade had certainly been a journey that has defined me, for better and for worse. So here’s a list of things I can recall that happened and have brought me to where I am now

Trigger warnings of self harm, suicide and manipulative relationships Also this is VERY long

2010

I went to Thailand for the 2nd time, with my grandparents and mum

I used to use my mum’s Facebook to play games and keep up with friends. She eventually gave me her account and made a new one for herself

I had my Year 6 prom, which I remember being a relationship counsellor for my best friend and her boyfriend while my own boyfriend didn’t even go. There was also an end of year residential trip for year 6 that was one of these adventure centres with abseiling and stuff

I left primary school with pretty decent SATs grades and got into the high school I wanted. Not many people I knew were going, and it was tough at first, but once I started making friends, it became a lot easier

I had my longest relationship (6 months) with said boyfriend I mentioned earlier I’d know for a few years now, and would continue to be friends with throughout high school and into college

I got some stick insects! It was fun to have them for the short time we did. I also kept snails and a caterpillar for a short period of time

2011

My mum had to go into hospital for back surgery

I went to France with school. Discovered I am AWFUL with boats and part of that trip was to Disney, but not even the main park and even then, I barely saw anything because my friends abandoned me

I joined the school netball team. Well, I think it was 2011 when I joined

I sprained my ankle. This damn injury still bothers me to this day if I walk too much, and it’s only just gotten better after recently aggravating it again

2012

I was part of a group at school that we called PAD (people are different) and it was essentially an anti-bullying group

I went on a coach trip to Newquay with my grandparents and mum, and part of the trip was going to the Eden Centre. I loved that trip so much

I got a pair of budgies. Lilith and Jasper were my little sweethearts that I trained to even sit on my finger

2013

I can’t remember if it was this year or late 2012, but I started learning to play violin, and then when I started my GCSEs, that became my focus instrument for the practical exam

The last time I went abroad. We (my grandparents and I) went to Bulgaria for the 2nd time. We stayed at the same resort so we had a decent idea of where everything was now, and it was lovely, but the weeks leading up to going troubled me a lot as all I could imagine was the plane crashing. The anxiety from that and being in the airport is why I’m not too nervous to go abroad

Honestly can’t remember what else happened

2014

I was part of an orchestra. It was part of my GCSE because my music teacher said it would help my friend and I improve, and she also convinced us to go by saying she would take us the first night and buy us KFC

Went to York for the first time with my parents, and then London with my mum, where we stayed with a family friend and did lots of touristy stuff

My Uncle’s dog Ki died. I loved him to bits and I still get upset sometimes thinking about him. He was the first of the 3 to die. I can’t remember when Nikita died, but Shamara was only a few weeks back

2015

I can’t remember if it was this year or 2014, but I did a keeper academy at my zoo and had some amazing experiences, like stroking a sea lion

Had my high school prom. Got to wear my dream dress and it was actually a lo of fun, just hanging out with friends and enjoying the night

Left high school with pretty good GCSEs and got into sixth form, but starting college was my downfall

Got into a relationship for the first time in 4 years with a manipulative asshole who tried to accuse me of manipulating him and forced me to do sexual things I didn’t want to because apparently if we didn’t, he couldn’t be sure the relationship would last. Also felt suicidal for the first time, and when I told my boyfriend, he broke up with me because I wasn’t the girl he fell in love with and it scared him

Had him and my two other friends fuck me over multiple times

2016

Had lost all my friends, so I had to cling to my best friend and hang around with his friends in order to not be alone. Ended up falling for one of his friends and getting into another relationship. Still a shitty one, but better and it hurt way more when that ended

My best friend got into a relationship with one of he friends who fucked me over the previous year. I made friends with her again for his sake, but then she fucked up his life and dragged me down too because I trusted him more than her

Went to Cardiff and the Doctor Who Experience for my 18th. An experience I will forever be grateful for because the place isn’t there anymore

2017

The worst year of my life by a long shot

My dog, my beautiful baby girl Sandy, was put to sleep at age 11. Losing her broke me, and I’ve never recovered, because she was around for over half my life and I never fully grieved, which caused me to unintentionally shut off some emotional reactions that I’ve never gotten back

I had my first proper emotional breakdown at a student day at the college I was looking to go to. I realised all these years I’d been following a dream I didn’t want anymore and was doing it to please everyone else as well as not panic about not having a plan b. I gave up the goal of being a vet, something I had worked towards since I was old enough to know what a vet was

Not part of the bad, but I went to a supernatural convention and got to meet a bunch of the stars which was pretty cool since it’s the first time I’d ever done something like that

Got the closest I ever have to actually considering suicide and throughout that day, spent so much time thinking of how I could do it. Couldn’t go through with anything obviously but it didn’t stop me using a tie to choke myself multiple times trying to make myself pass out, which left a bruise on my neck

I self harmed a lot more back then, from 2015 onward really, and I have all the scars to show

2018

Saw Mark and the guys on tour, and Mark blew a kiss at me. First time I’d ever seen any of the YouTubers I watch in person

Was supposed to get a rescue puppy, but she and her whole litter bar one died. I’d already been feeling iffy about getting a dog again, and this was the last straw that sent me into my worst depressive episode of feeling nothing for 2 straight weeks

Met Dan and Phil at their show during said numbness period. Meant I couldn’t feel anxiety which I guess was good

Ended up getting a puppy and the depression kicked in on day 2 that I waned nothing to do with this dog after saying for months I didn’t even want a dog

Nan got diagnosed with leukaemia and was in and out of hospital for the next few months, first with chemo and then for her bone marrow transplant. I saw her at her lowest, where she was just about ready to give up

Met so many amazing people at the HDWGH show, and got to ask Sean a question in the Q&A. The best day of my life, well until VidCon 2020

Had a massive fallout with my sister, essentially making it so I didn’t speak to her at all throughout 2019 unless I had to

2019

I outlined everything in this post, but there’s a couple of things I didn’t include

Me and my sister made up. Might not be a permanent thing, but at least at Christmas everything felt ok again

I embraced my sexuality this year. I had been questioning it since 2013/2014, and realised I wasn’t straight before June 2018, but 2019 was really the year I thought ‘yes, I’m panroace and proud’

I’ve missed a shit ton of stuff because things blur together and I don’t remember when anything happened, but this decade started with someone excited and determined. It’s ending with some who has that same passion but for a different path, after fighting through the darkest times I’ve had to face. I am who I am, and I am ready both for 2020 and for the next decade

#the last half of this decade has been hectic and a tough battle #but I'm here and I'm alive #and I'm ready

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hollowworldentertainment · 5 years

Text

Let Us Begin

Greetings, I am a deity of another world, born on Earth, reborn into the role of god for another universe. But for me to tell my story you are going to need to hear it from the beginning, otherwise nothing will make sense.

Let us begin.

My name is Nicholas, I was an avid lucid dreamer, now… not so much. The issues all started when I was rather young, I was around thirteen or fourteen, I do not recall exactly when. Much like all kids my age I hated going to bed, the more time I spent sleeping the less time I had to play games. Every now and then I would have friends over and we would pull an all-nighter, just to fall asleep half way through the next day, exhausted. But one summer holidays I decided that I was going to test myself, I was going to see how far I could go.

Every chance I had I would stock up on snacks and games, I would arrange for people to come over in a day or two, then I would start my binge. The first few tries were absolute failures, but I quickly learnt better ways of obtaining consciousness. It became apparent that good hydration was needed, I figured since I had to pee every few hours my body was working more, so staying awake to finish its functions. To my knowledge I am correct, I have never bothered to look up a more scientific reason behind that. Small amounts of food was also needed, but I do mean small amounts. Again, I figured if I was permanently a little hungry my body would stay conscious to look for food. Finally, I had to keep my brain active, the longer I was awake the more time I needed to spend engaging my brain.

Three or four good attempts down the line I had reached a high score of five days, I was impressed with myself. I knew I could have gone longer, but I was starting to hallucinate badly. Everywhere I went I saw hands, at first, they were human like. They had no scary factor other than there were floating hands everywhere. They would crawl on the walls, creeping around corners and giving me frights when I was not expecting it. But late into the fifth day they all started, dying. They lost all their colour, then the fingers started to snap and crack, bending in un-natural ways. Where they once used to run like cousin It, they then started limping around, staining the walls black with a sticky tar. At this point I figured I should go to bed, clear my head.

Sadly, I knew my holidays were coming to an end, with that my experiment came to an end too. I had to focus on school too much to allow myself multiple days of consciousness, but that was alright as I had just found a new goal, lucid dreaming.

A friend of mine at school was talking about lucid dreaming, a concept to me which was foreign. He explained it to me simply as, the ability to control dreams. Naturally I was interested immediately, the concept of controlling dreams was amazing. As soon as I had free time I researched lucid dreaming, I learnt all about reality checks and instigating lucid dreams all from blogs online. Throughout the rest of my high school years I would attempt lucid dreaming from time to time, but it did require a lot of effort so I seldom attempted it with very few successes. Eventually I left high school and started my journey into real life, in the form of tertiary education.

I moved to a city where I had family and friends nearby, both of which had moved in the pursuit of education. I was living by myself on the twelfth floor of an apartment building, it was ideal for me as I liked to relax by watching movies and falling asleep at the time. When I was not visiting friends, I would just do my work in my room, then I would chuck on a movie and slowly fall asleep. A couple of weeks into my time in the city and my friend from my home town mentioned lucid dreaming to me again. I did not have much on so I figured I might actually give it a go, a proper one where I don’t give up after a week.

A few weeks down the line I started to one eighty from my earlier self, once I finished my school work I would go to bed as early as possible. I started to look forward to sleeping, I was starting to gain some decent ground on my lucid dreams. Eventually I had it to the point where I would achieve lucidity at least once a night, not always lasting in length but I would get a few moments of being a god. Eventually I had a break from uni so I spent most of my time trying to master the power of lucid dreaming. Until one day when I encountered a… hiccup, with my testing.

One day while I was getting ready for bed I heard a knocking at my door, looking at my clock I decided that it was late enough that I could have said that I went to bed early, so I decided to ignore it. Five minutes later I heard the knocking again while I was on Facebook. This time it was loud, the door flung open and this thing entered my room. It dripped with tar and crawled all around my room filling it with its thick tar. I could feel myself suffocating, then my eyes opened and I was awake, actually awake. This time I ran through my reality checks and they cleared me, I figured I must have fallen asleep straight after hearing the knocking. That was the start of what was to happen next.

Over the next few weeks I started seeing more and more things from my dreams while I was still conscious. Not all of them were bad, most of them would just pop up in the corner of my vision, disappearing as I turned to see them better. I could deal with these flickers in the corners of my eyes, but I could not deal with losing my ability to lucid dream. While I could still reach the point of realising that I was dreaming, I had started to lose my control over my world, I was no longer the thing in charge.

Once again I started to hate sleeping, I started avoiding sleep. While the lucid dreams were not scary they had me on edge, the dreamscape would constantly change and door constantly appeared in front of me. I never touched them, I walked around them, or I sat waiting for the dream to end. Once I started to avoid sleeping the hallucinations got bad again, probably due to the lack of sleep. I was stuck in an endless cycle of being awake for days on end to avoid dreaming, then once I started to hallucinate I would go to sleep to gain back my sanity, then I would start again.

I eventually made it through my year of uni with minimal damage, deciding that I did not like to study I left and moved away to another town where a friend lived. I flatted with him and his partner of the time, I got a job and everything seemed to be alright. Then, out of nowhere, nightmares. They were unrelenting, every night without fail I would have a nightmare. Never the same scenario, but the locations and the monsters were reoccurring. Each night I went to sleep I would catch glimpses of this horrible world, sometimes I would be in it, other times I was floating above watching as everything unfolded beneath me. This affected me, a lot. I started losing sleep once again, I was terrified of sleeping for a time. I sought help but their answer was to take sleeping pills, I told them the issue was not sleeping, it was that I did not want to sleep. No one listened, not really. Eventually the nightmares faded, leaving me to once again sleep with relative peace.

Fast forward a short while, I am living back in the city with a much better job. I am working and surrounded by friends and family. I could not be happier. It was around this time I started writing my dreams down, collecting them, learning how to write a story. Then, one day while some friends from out of town were visiting I had an incident. I went to the super market to grab a few things when I got talking to an individual in the underground parking lot, I do not recall what we talked about nor for how long. But I do remember blinking, and him disappearing. It was not until he disappeared that I realise he was from one of my nightmares. I went home and freaked out for a while before falling asleep. That dream, that was the start of it all.

In my dream, I sat facing an individual, I could not make anything about him out just that he was human, and a him. He spoke very quickly, always referring to himself as ‘You’, as in reference to me. He was adamant that we were the same, divided by the thin line of time. He said that he would show me the world I was to one day create, in return I had to tell his stories to the world. I saw nothing wrong with this, so we shook on it, striking our deal mere days before heading back to my home town.

Note for all who read, never make a deal in a dream. It is too easy to manipulate truths there.

I started to have nightmares again, it did not scare me this time, this time they were fascinating. I thought that would be the only side effect from our deal, but I had missed the fine print. Each time I was to walk near my room, I could feel eyes. Any time I was down that side of the house I could feel eyes, they would burn into the back of my head, but every time I turned around I was greeted with nothing. Again no one believed me when I mentioned this.

As time went on I found the less I typed the more I felt depressed. I found out that I displeased dream me when I was not typing, so he would mentally start lowering my mood. I tried everything to raise my spirits, exercise, friends, relationships, family, gaming, drugs, but nothing worked. Once I started writing again I would be pulled from the bad thoughts and return to being normal.

Now please focus, for we are nearly at modern day. This part is very important.

I said it before, I will say it again. Never make deals in your dreams.

Since moving away from the house with the eyes I have been free from its gaze, but now it is worse. I recently moved in with a friend, it has been great having a close friend for someone to live with. For the majority of the past months I have been great, but recently it has gotten worse. It does not matter if I am awake of if I am asleep, I see that other world, I see Hollow. When I sleep, it is a vivid world that feels as real as this world. When I don’t sleep I see parts of Hollow bleeding into this world. Regardless of whether I sleep I have the eyes on me again, but it is not only one pair, I feel hundreds. I can feel the worlds starting to collide, the worst part is, I don’t know which world is real. They both seem so large, and while I have memories from both I see more Hollow than I do Earth.

Each day I see more nightmares walking around me, I long for sleep at the end of my days. But I get no rest from my sleep, there I wait for me, telling me more and more. Every now and then the talks stop being about Hollow, they start to be about me. Every time the other me and I talk he becomes more possessive, he sends those he trusts to haunt me. While I feel the countless eyes watching, I can nearly feel the touch of those sent to ensure I last till my time has come.

I am afraid to sleep, I am afraid to be awake, I am terrified to be near mirrors for I know what lurks within. I keep busy during my days to distract myself, but distractions only last so long. I am nearing my breaking point, and I don’t think I will make it to my prophecy…

To anyone who likes my stories, you can find the full catalog on my website, additionally you can find me on a variety of other social media.

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#writeblr #writing #writer #hollowworldentertainment #letusbegin #chapter7 #horror #short stories #horror stories #short horror stories #horror writing #scifi #scifi writing #scifi stories #fantasy #fantasy writing #fantasy stories #dark

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taezhu · 6 years

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yandere!jaehyun

he’s so soft when he first speaks to you and introduces himself

he’d have a shaky voice which is genuine, he’s never met someone he’s so attracted to

attracted to isn’t even the right word for it, he’s enthralled by you

he’d give you his number and his snapchat and Instagram and everything he can think of

but you’d have never noticed at first

jaehyun is good at hiding things from people in general

but especially you

so when you meet him you’d never have suspected a thing

but when you meet him he’d know that he’d never let you go

he’d spend that night looking at everything he can about you so he knows what to say, how to say it

where to take you and what gifts to get you

and it wont take him a long time to ask you out

because he knows how to charm people

he’s done it before the right and wrong reasons

and he’ll treat you better than anyone else ever will because he’s actually in love with you

it’s the first time he’s ever been in love and it’s the last, too

he won’t leave you for anything for anyone

he’s too normal for you to have seen anything coming

he’d walk you home and he’d call you every morning

and his morning voice is enough for you to fall that little bit more for him

he’s just generally so sweet

flowers to your door and notes left around your place from when he last visited

it’s all the signs of someone who’s in love with you

even when he asks you to be his, you’d think that he’s indifferent

because he has no reason to act differently than normal

he hasn’t had a reason to show his true colours

it will start when you bond with taeil over something when you’re waiting for jaehyun to meet you

and he’ll not care at first because he’s not stupid enough to not let you have friends

but when he notices you and taeil have been messaging each other he’ll start to question things

‘what are you two talking about?’

‘are you that close?’

‘you can just talk to me about that, you know. why do you have to talk to taeil?’

and if you tell him that you and taeil are just friends, he’ll accept it for a while

he’s happy you’re friends with someone that he knows and spends time with

he doesn’t have to worry that someone else is taking you away from him

he’ll just spend extra time around you at other times

nights at yours when he just stares at you as you talk about your day

ordering take out because he doesn’t want you to have to show your beauty to anyone else

his worst nightmare is you falling in love with someone else

he’ll wake up multiple times in a cold sweat because he had a nightmare where he saw you with someone else

and it’s after that that he tells you he’s in love with you

you’re surprised at first, since he took you out to a fancy restaurant just to tell you that

though he has a peaceful sleep that night when you say that you love him, too

whenever you’re with taeil, or any other member that is, he’ll be around too

you’ll just feel his gaze over you and it can be distracting but you try to ignore it

and it can be suffocating to spend too much time with one person you know?

so you start to try and spend time with your other friends

jaehyun doesn’t mind at first

he’ll text you the entire time and keep an eye on your location

but when you stop replying to him cause you don’t want to be rude to the person you’re with, he’ll come find you

because he’s worried since you didn’t answer

when your friends stop wanting to meet up with you you’ll assume it’s just their school or work and brush it off

and eventually you’re left to only spend time with either jaehyun or the members of nct

and you’re friends with taeil anyway, so why not?

except jaehyun isn’t a fan of your friendship with taeil and will tell you that taeil’s doing this and that

‘he’s not good for you’

‘he’s just using you because he thinks we don’t like him’

‘he doesn’t care about you, baby’

‘not like I do’

so you’re back at square one with jaehyun being the only one you can turn to again

though one day when you're waiting for him again he’s held up with his manager and you end up bumping into taeyong

who notices that you’re not the same as before and asks if everything is okay

poor boy taeyong didn’t know what he was asking for, but he’d listen

he’d sit with you as you told him that you felt like jaehyun was secluding you, and he’d be honest with you

he’d tell you everything you didn’t want to hear about jaehyun and you

‘that’s not a good relationship, you shouldn’t think that’s normal’

‘you don’t have to stay with him, you should break up with him if it gets too much for you’

and taeyong is right, you know he is

so you plan on telling him you two should take a break

though it’s almost like jaehyun knew what was coming and he tries, you’ll give him that

he tells you that taeil wants to meet up with you and he says that he’s going to be busy the next few days, so you should see some of your other friends

which you do, but they’re not exactly happy about seeing you

they tell you that your boyfriend is harassing them and telling them not to see you again

and really, you’re not as surprised as you should be

and you decide to tell jaehyun that night that you two should take the break

it’s best for the both of us

jaehyun, you know I’ll always love you and that won’t change

but he’s not going to take things well

‘you can’t do this to me’

he’d be on his knees begging you to change your mind

‘I need you, I really do’

‘I don't want to ever be without you, I can’t lose you’

you’re so close to leaving, too

but he’s on the floor crying and shaking and begging and you’re so in love with him that you have to stay

you kneel down in front of him and hug him and stroke his hair

he’d still be crying but you don’t know it’s fake

jaehyun knew that you’d not leave him, he knows how to act

he knows that after tonight you won’t try to do that again

sometimes when he’s with you he thinks that maybe he doesn’t have to act this way to make you love him

he considers trying to change

to trust you, because even though he’s unstable he does have some sanity left in him

but that fades when he sees that you’re still talking to taeil

and he notices you have a chat saved with taeyong, too

he doesn’t care that you’re laying across his chest as he goes through your phone, arms strung around him

he doesn’t care that the only person you see is him

so he reads your chat with taeyong and laughs when he sees his name come up

you didn’t think that he’d check your phone one day?

he can barely sleep because he’s up watching you sleep

he can barely breathe when he’s not around you

it evades him that some of the texts you’re sending to taeyong are about how much you love him

he only sees the texts taeyong sends about you breaking up with him

and he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to kill someone so much before

though he’s not stupid, he’s not going to kill taeyong, he’s taeyong’s friends

to him though he can’t understand why taeyong would ever tell you to break up with him

so he brings it up one day when you’re with him in your kitchen and he’s watching you make tea

‘have you spoken with taeyong recently?’

and you’d be surprised, since you didn’t really seem close to taeyong in person, the two of you only really spoke over text

though you didn’t really think that jaehyun would have gone through your phone

he’s always asleep before you and wakes up after you

‘he was talking about you the other day. he said that he thinks you’re sweet’

and you’d really have nothing to say because you don’t believe it

so you don’t answer jaehyun and carry on what you’re doing

‘why would he say that?’

‘does he have a reason to want to compliment you in front of me?’

you telling him I don't know will never suffice as an answer for him

‘do you think he likes you?’

and jaehyun, again, is smart

he doesn’t see anything wrong with manipulating people

in fact he thinks that making people wish they were dead is easier than actually killing them

so when you shake your head and tell him that you don’t, jaehyun’s not going to stop there

he’ll walk towards you and he’ll look intimidating at first

you know that look he gives when he’s not happy

‘do you think he’d ever try to break us up? do you think he’d want us to stop seeing each other so he can be with you instead?’

you’d only say no because taeyong’s still innocent to you

he was only trying to help you out

right?

but jaehyun would get mad at you

his breathing is heavy and stare so cold it could freeze anything he looked at

though he wouldn’t touch you

he couldn’t ever touch you or hurt you

so when he’s shouting about taeyong and how he won’t lose you to taeyong, he keeps his distance

until he realises you’re not talking and you look scared

so he’d approach you and try to hug you, to kiss you and make you feel better

but he’s met with you taking a step back from him

shying away at his touch and shaking your head

‘are you scared of me?’

he’d know the answer is yes, and he’d be happy

but he calms down and tries to change his disposition so he doesn’t give himself away

‘please don’t be scared of me, I wouldn’t ever hurt you’

and he wouldn’t, he’s not stupid

you’re the last person he would ever touch

‘it’s not me you need to be worried about, it’s others’

‘I'm trying to protect you, people will use you and make you hate yourself’

‘I need you and you need me, right?’

and he knows you’re reluctant to come back to him, but he knows what to say to you

he knows your weaknesses and how to play them

he knows that he’s slowly convincing you that you really do only need him

so each and every time you’ll go straight back to him

‘love makes me a little crazy, but isn’t it the same for everyone?’

(2018) TAEZHU - DISCLAIMER

#jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun reaction #jaehyun smut #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct reactions #listen okay I love jaehyun and I had to write this because I had this idea and no one else has done it #pls read the disclaimer if ur mad #I was listening to mad city when writing this and literally took a break to shout YOU MAKE ME SO MAD IM GONNA BE SO MAD #watch me get told off on the train Friday for being too loud #A G A I N

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gayfrenchtoast · 3 years

Text

Part 2!

So if you haven't seen pt 1 it is here or in the vent tag on my blog

Continuing on! After I revived that text I lost my fucking m i n d over so many points in it, and I'm not gonna describe it to you, I'm gonna show you the result of my message after I took his message into Google docs and made a response to every point so long that when I sent it back it had to be split into multiple messages. Any additions or changes will again be in red ;

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Whatever (sister) has told me is none of your business and don't you date interrogate her about it when she gets back, you may not think you’re doing it but I don’t want her scared into not being able to open up to us. She's said nothing that I know myself is not likely the truth, if anything she excuses your behaviour because she doesn't know much better.

I do not agree with your "proportion to the offence" you do not even need to yell at the kids, getting down on their level and talking with them would be a much better teaching method than terrifying them and teaching them to be scared of you. Regardless you yell so much it hardly ever feels like you are ever yelling in proportion to a particular offence it just feels like you are yelling because of your own mood and it teaching nothing but to tiptoe around you, avoid you and lie to avoid your wrath. If you're yelling to "set boundaries" the only boundaries you set are massive ones away from your children that you then act like they aren't even there.

Yes because they're children and don't know any better. They're innocent and don't know what going or what they're going through isn't normal much like I didn't.

I do not deny my need for therapy, in fact, I am actively in search of therapy thank you for your concern and causation of that, however my need for therapy does not negate your need for it, perhaps if you had it you'd see why I feel this way though I doubt you'd ever seek it out because for some reason you believe you are a good person and a good dad and I knew going into this you'd never believe me or believe you were any different.

I know you loved me, it does not change the fact you had a shit way of showing it snd the fact your actions did affect me. And being annoyed at me because you care is a funny way of showing your love for someone.

I do admit I find it funny that the only examples you can provide of me big happy with you are when I was a very young child that didn't know any better and I worry if you can't see past the times where I was filled with childhood innocence and not after it was destroyed because you, again, made me hate myself. I don’t believe you are listening to me because I think you've glazed over things like how you told me I was stupid and selfish and wanted to hurt you which made me hate myself and think I was a bad person when I was only a child that didn't know any better. If you think that kind of stuff doesn’t affect a child I don't think you will ever get better.

Oh yeah, it does make things easier for you to blame things on the divorce, doesn’t it? Lemme shut that down right now; no. if anything it helped me get away from you.

And I think it’s unfair for you to treat your children the way you do but we don't get what we want all the time it seems. I'm sorry you feel I have to apologise for something I didn't do, as I said before o am happy to be used as a scapegoat, if (his finace) wants to blame me for (her daughter) getting back into something she never stopped doing then that's your problem and if now you want to blame me too it really is your problem!

Everyone? If you've told others about this that is also your problem and I'd say it's a wonder they are wondering since they know you but you do surround yourself with people like you so I guess I shouldn't be too surprised.

Fuck you, don’t you dare talk about my Mothers, the only good parents I have ever had, that way. Don’t you dare try and talk shit about my mother's, my mums don't need to talk shit about you because the only one that ever starts any of that kind of stuff is me! I don't need prompting! I know who you are, I worked that out myself, and if anything they've done nothing but encourage me to have a relationship with you and give you chances because you're my dad but if I didn't want to they weren't going to push me or force me which is so much more than I can say you have done in relation to them. I do not need to assign "too much meaning" to events, I was there! I felt them! Do not assume that I am some stupid child who just miss-remembering things, not only am I fucking not but there are way too many, way too much repetitive behaviour, way too much I had to learn to go through life to be just misremembering anything, not only that but repeating events, verbatim, to other people has confirmed that all of that shit was fucked up. I am sure you're fuming reading this paragraph, I'm sorry you feel that way, but not going to hold back anymore because how fucking dare you.

Do not try and emotionally manipulate me with the "Does it mean nothing, all the work I have done for you?" line, frankly that's weak manipulation for you, but considering all you've done to me in the past, how that affects me and how you've implied I'm crazy in this message, aNo. You feeding me and putting a roof over my head is rendered null. And god forbid I end up a dad like you, that has been one of my biggest fears for years, part of my mental breakdowns in college was me being scared if I had children I'd fall into being like you, continuing the cycle of abuse. I may not even have children purely because I'm afraid of turning out like you. Oh and thanks for preparing me to be an adult dad, the anxiety you gave me made me have a panic attack when I tried to register at a doctors in (uni town), good fucking job.

I've been feeling strange to you ever since I realised how you treated me was wrong, so since high school? Don’t think this is a recent thing and don't think this is anything but me seeing things for how they really are because they're not, I've had a long time to analyse that.

I can’t believe you called your dad a good dad and then talked about how you were a bit better than your dad was in the same paragraph. Congrats on your "Not as shit as you could have been" award. Perhaps if you went to therapy you might see how you’re not as different as you should be proud of than your dad. I remember you telling a story of him trying to tell you to drive which caused grandma to cry in the car, you should see that's fucked up. That's the only story I have of him and it’s not a good look.

Here's an easy one for you; when you're stressed, don't take it out on your children! And if you've only shouted when you were stressed you were stressed a disproportionate amount. Maybe that's something you should work on, in therapy. And this bit "Being a parent is stressful. Being one who really cares is really stressful." Is shit. Seriously? You're blaming me for you yelling at me? Do you even realise you're doing this? In case you don't realise it this is manipulation. And again just because you were stressed didn't mean you had the right to take it out on me, even if to you it was just because you cared about me.

I'm sorry you f e e l t h a t w a y

This last paragraph is a doozy

"Please don't let the past dominate your feelings for the present. For your sake" again implying how your actions have hurt me is my fault, I know you won't believe me but all the fault lays with you.

"If you have anxiety and depression it will be your choice to recover" this line really got me, it sounds like you're blaming me for my own mental health problems, implying that how I feel is a choice and that I am not actually trying to help myself. I am very much helping myself and this is part of that, something you almost acknowledged in the next sentence in the same paragraph!

The fact is you are so arrogant and up your own ass that you think you're always right everyone else is always wrong and you are the greatest person in any given room when in reality you are a presumptuous asshole whose perspective on the world worries me and who's parenting style is emotional and mental abuse and manipulation and now I've broken out of it I am not afraid of you anymore so I can tell you this; fuck off you arrogant ass, leave me alone, treat your children better at least, I’m not gonna ask you to improve anymore because I know you won't. Have fun playing house and making yourself think you're the best man in the world but I'm not gonna tell you you are anymore cus I don't have to! Get, and I have wanted to say this to you for so many years, fucked!

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So as you can tell, I snapped. One could say I snapped when I finally told him he was the problem but this, this was me snapping. This was me being donezo. This was me finally getting my cathartis and you know what? I deserved it. And I am so happy I did.

So happy fathers day! Happy fathers day to my fucking dad, one of the biggest pluages on my life and the man who made the worst part of who I am today! Good job! If you ever see this father, I have one thing to say to you and I think you know what it is

Fuck you, fuck off and go ffuuuuuck yourself!

#abuse tw #tw abuse #tw vent #vent #ramble

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