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#but!!! here we are!!! now with like. double the characters.
grifff17 · 2 days
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Audiodrama Sunday 04/28/24
So much stuff this week! I think this is going to be my longest writeup yet!
@camlannpod what the fuck? Trying to avoid spoilers, but the ending of that episode was wild. The sound design for the last scene was so good. Also “You're good with an axe, right?” was brutal, I audibly said "oof". Only 1 more episode in the season, hopefully they get funding for a second one.
The first episode of @wanderersjournalpod came out this week. This was a promising start to a new show, I'm excited to see where it goes from here. The setting feels very mystical, I can't wait to learn more about the world.
@worldsbeyondpod was so tense. Suvi and Ame had the most awkward conversation in existence. This story has so much nuance, neither of them are clearly in the right, though I feel inclined to take Ame's side due to the "Geas + Alter Memory" double espionage scheme. Meanwhile Ursulon discovers that Orima of the Reaching Green is a short queen and gets a cool horse.
I'm now up to date with @lostterminal. Season 15 was great. I love Nia, and Daphne and Raffi were really interesting new characters. Also, the dragon was terrifying. This show doesn't usually have very much action, so the confrontation with it really stood out. The description of the automatic turret going "click, click" as it locked on to Maddie was so intimidating.
@worldgonewrongpod I loved this episode. The storytelling felt so natural and real, like someone telling me a story about a weird road trip they went on. I think I said this about the last episode too, but this was my favorite episode yet. It also sets up the backstory which was never really explained as to why Jamie and Malik are separated at all.
In @midstpodcast we finally had a nicer episode. No horrible fucked up Weep/Trust stuff happening, just Lark reunited with Zeila and Sherman. However, there's so much tension between these characters. I was surprised that Lark forgave Sherman for selling her out. Something to remember is that Lark and Sherman had been hooking up before everything went to shit, which was mentioned once and I think really changes their relationship.
New @keepitsteadypod! This is the first new episode of this show since I started doing these. This was a really cute episode. For how popular fake dating is as a trope in fandom spaces, you don't see a lot of it in audiodramas.
Fun episode of Mission Rejected this week. It was cool to see Bowden go from "vain actor" to "badass spy" when the stakes ramped up. We don't get to see him take charge very often, it was neat for him to be a competent leader. I wonder if the gang lying to Zelda(who definitely saw through it) and Chet(who probably didn't) is foreshadowing for more of a conflict with the new Secretary of Defense later in the season. Also I loved the squabbling gay couple running an illegal mining operation as the villains of the week.
@breakerwhiskey episode 200 wow. A letter from Harry! We learned that Harry has been listening to most of Whiskey's broadcasts, which recontextualizes a lot of the previous episodes. Also, the end was heartbreaking.
I started season 2 of @longcatmedia's Mockery Manor! I'm 2 episodes in and really like it so far. JJ and Bettie are employed in different parks, JJ is on the run from an organized crime ring, and Bettie became a monk? Also, it's clear that neither Hilda nor Jenkins stole the shipment, neither of them have motive. But I don't know who else would have motive either. Lots of mysteries this season.
Spout Lore had a great planning episode. I'm excited for the "saving Highspear" arc, the Highspear is so cool as a concept. A reverse Tower of Babel, that lets the whole world talk with each other. A literal monument to wizard hubris, which feels destined to fall. However I doubt it will, because, as the players mentioned, it would be really annoying from a storytelling perspective if everyone suddenly spoke different languages. This has actually made me realize I really want a story set shortly after some sort of "fall of the Tower of Babel", where communication is a struggle, but that's just because I think linguistics is cool. Anyways, the buffet talk had me rolling.
What a great week! However, it did not help my queue, which continues to grow instead of get smaller. I'll reach the end of it one day.
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Thoughts on a potential Sam & Benny relationship? Platonic or otherwise? 👀✨
Hi!!! thank you for asking this hehe. See Benny falls under the category of characters 'assigned' to Dean who personally, to me, also have a lot in common with Sam when you really look beneath the surface (Cas is another character who falls in this camp). And what he has in common with Sam is just. a lot more thematically meaningful to me lol. Also I'm sorry... this is gonna be mostly literary analysis because i'm a real freak who judges ship potential between characters according to ~themes~ 😔
Benny, like Sam, is a character who's born from liminality. He's forced to occupy that space by the nature of his existence, but just like with Sam, his ambiguities aren't allowed to remain within the narrative. I'm using liminal here as a catch-all to cover both the idea of ambiguous identity and ambiguous zones between bordered territories, regions that in essence don't 'belong' anywhere.
Both Benny and Sam are not-monsters. Sam is the human who's never quite human, Benny is the monster who's never quite a monster. It's interesting to me that on a narrative level, Benny has to be 'exorcised' from the story first before the show fully leans into the stable home territory of the Bunker. From that point in the story onwards, any ambiguities in Sam's identity get squashed too. He's forced to occupy a rigid, unquestioned sense of belonging now - to the hunter community and to his family. His monstrous associations are something purely referred to in the past tense (i'm not referring just to the demon blood arc here, but how his soulless and hallucifer arc frame him as something 'dangerous' to the narrative).
Benny's introduction alone renders him a liminal creature, he comes from Purgatory, an 'in-between' realm sandwiched between Earth and Hell, a place of perpetual fighting, journeying and movement. there is no real home to be found in Purgatory. There's no place for rest. And when we learn his backstory, we learn that he was a literal sailor, a monster pirate hunting on open waters. He is a displaced person without a nation, no stable 'home'. The ocean doubles as another form of Purgatory; a liminal space for travellers, where one is always journeying and vulnerable. In that sense, he's a metaphorical double for both Sam and Dean, stuck journeying forever in their car, moving from one liminal space to the next (for them, in the form of motel rooms. there's a great chapter in the book TV Goes To Hell: An Unofficial Roadmap of Supernatural on this).
On a surface level, Benny embodies the type of free, rugged masculinity Dean has always idolised and aspired towards. On one level, he fits neatly into the same category as Gordon, Ketch etc. under the category of guys who just hearken back to John. But the added dimension of him being a non-practising vampire is what ties him to Sam, and what makes him an engaging side character to me. (Like, the literal denying-themselves-of-blood of it all). Real belonging will always come at the cost of erasing some integral part of who they are, a part of them that marks them as non-human.
Benny's brief subplot also directly mirrors Sam's arc in early s8 - both of them try to settle down and try and place roots. For Benny, it's with a descendent in Louisiana (a migrant trying to reconnect with his roots? [sniper on the roof takes me ou-]). But for the both of them, Dean is the ghost of hunting who disrupts this false, temporary sense of settlement. For Sam, it's Dean's return from Purgatory that pulls him away from a 'false' peace. For Benny, it's his association with Dean that draws hunters upon him (through Dean comes Sam, then Martin). Hunting in Supernatural is the boundary enforcer, the border police, the violent vigilantism that draws strict lines in the sand between humanness and monstrosity - a functional metaphor also for the ways we define who gets to be considered a citizen vs. an illegal alien.
(Also all of this fits into a meta I'm currently trying to write where I'm parsing my own feelings on why Sam's isolation/ambiguity resonates so particularly with dilemmas around identity and isolation as an immigrant child of migrants, compared to a character like Dean. So a bookmark here for further meta on a deeper reading into migrant narratives present in Benny + Sam's arcs?)
tldr; imagine if there was a single person of colour in the Supernatural writer's room (lol) damn what could've been!
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NEW AND IMPROVED INFO ON UNIVERSE 1 AND THE FUNNY LITTLE GUYS WHO LIVE THERE
I decided to make an update to the original info post I made, since I changed the canon a lot since I made it. Plus, the old one was based on an even older character doc that didn't go into very much detail and omitted a few decently major characters. So, what the hell!! New year new info.
THE BASIC PREMISE:
A young sorta-goddess named Alice was born alongside her own personal pocket dimension to rule over and expand at her leisure. After many years of this, Alice decides she wants to make the perfect friend for herself, but in creating Mikayla, she accidentally makes her perfect nightmare instead. Mikayla turns against her creator, forming a pact with the monstrous Breaks to act as their commander in exchange for her world's eventual destruction, and Alice does not have the strength to create her own army to oppose them. In desperation, Alice turns her sights back to the Earth she was born to, and begins to build her army a different way - with the souls of those who died young and unhappy. The story follows the humans trapped in Alice's domain as they fight to survive in the hopes of one day thriving in this strange new world, while still struggling to deal with the scars from their pasts. The main story takes place sometime around 2016-2018.
SOME WARNINGS: mentions of death, abuse, school shootings, human experimentation, body horror, murder, bullying, car crashes and suicide. none of these will be discussed in depth (outside of the death part, since I will be mentioning how each of Alice’s soldiers died, and potentially the body horror part when it comes to describing Alice's guards), and will only be briefly mentioned, but I felt it was worth adding this warning nonetheless. let me know if there’s anything else I should add to this warnings list, and I’ll make sure to add that warning both to this and any future piece that may contain that particular content.
NOTABLE TERMS:
Authors - Someone with power over a Realm. The name is a shortened version of the word “authority”, as well as the term 'author/auteur' as used to refer to the primary creator of different forms of art. They look like normal people in their home worlds, but are reality-warping gods in their Realms. They can either be born this way (Founding Authors) or can be turned into an Author by a different Author (Inherited Authors). If an Author dies and hasn’t selected anyone to be their ‘heir’, their Realm crumbles and dies. The term has some variations - Alice, for example, refers to herself as an ‘Authoress’ as a more fancy and feminine version of it - though ‘Author’ itself is considered a gender-neutral term. They have a tendency to become fixated on making specific types of objects/creatures, and they become more and more
Realms - Miniature universes created by an Author’s birth, sometimes considered to be the Author’s twin. They are sentient to some extent, though are so different from most lifeforms that they cannot communicate aside from puppeteering creatures (usually Creations) to do their bidding. Their Author(s) keeps them stable, and if the only Author dies without picking a replacement, they do too. The majority of the story takes place in one of these Realms (exceptions being prequel short stories that take place on Earth). 
Creations - Living creatures made by Authors to serve a specific role in their Realms. Creations are given a ‘purpose’ by their Author that forms the backbone of their identities, which can range from specific tasks they must fulfill to simply live however they choose. Aside from that, they can look like practically anything, and their mindsets can range dramatically from "exists only to perform this particular task with no individual personality to speak of" to "smarter than a human with a clear and defined sense of identity". Think of them as biological robots - some are closer to androids in sci-fi media, while others are more similar to roombas, but they're all classified under the same umbrella.
Breaks - Hive monsters that spawn in the void between worlds, meant to be one part training and one part punishment for Authors who break the Unspoken Rules (which are unspoken because no one really knows what they are). They can form pacts with Real creatures as well as Creations to grant them powers in exchange for the individual becoming the focal point of their hive mind, and want nothing more than to devour Realms from the insides out. 
Life Force - The energy that keeps all living creatures alive. Humans are the baseline, with a reasonable amount of Life Force that can allow for bursts of incredible strength, speed and mental processing when in life-threatening situations; Creations have about half to three-quarters the Life Force of a human, as they typically do not need to ever use it and all of their Life Force must be provided by their Author when they're created; and Authors have the abilities they do because they have an abnormal amount of Life Force that only grows larger and larger the longer they live, and the ability to manipulate it at will. Life Force can only be drained by either using abilities that require Life Force, or by spending time in a universe that is not your own. If drained, the affected creature will grow more and more emaciated before beginning to decay alive.
CHARACTERS IN THE REALM/UNIVERSE 1:
(please note that even after all this time, a lot of these guys don’t have fully solid designs - I’m more of a writer than an artist and character designs don’t mean much when you’re not using a visual medium lol. I have at least vague ideas on how all of them look and I do want to give those ocs with less solid looks permanent designs in the future, but for now???? ehhhhhhhhhhhh I’d rather focus on the writing part lmao)
THE NEWCOMERS
Lydia
Age: 16 (nearly 17)
Role in the story: Protagonist
Appearance: Chubby girl with long, wavy blonde hair, warm-toned beige skin and blue eyes. Around 5'5-5'8. Wears a long, loose grey t-shirt with cut-out shoulders and a distinctive blue butterfly design with diamond-like wings on the bottom-left corner. This matches her prized necklace, which always hangs around her neck on a long chain, and her hairclip that pins the left side of her hair out of her eyes.
Rapid-fire personality info: -One of the two protagonists of the main story.
-Calm and friendly, always trying to see the best in others. Her life's motto is very much "hope for the best and prepare for the worst".
-Deeply committed to helping people, even at the expense of her own health - definitely fits the “paragon” archetype and will do anything if she thinks it’s for the good of those around her.
-Wanted to be a therapist someday so that she could improve peoples’ lives, and reads about psychology often in pursuit of that goal. She still wants to find a way to make use of her knowledge in her new situation, but isn’t sure how.
-Grew up moving from town to town after her mother passed away from a terminal illness; as such, she’s gotten very good at reading people and figuring out what makes them tick. (She’s not always as right about them as she thinks she is, though.)
-Feels her emotions intensely, and often cries when overwhelmed or scared, much to her own frustration.
-Can’t handle horror well at ALL, which makes it all the harder for her to adjust to her new life in the Realm. She never quite gets used to Alice’s side of the Realm, preferring to stick closer to the Soldier’s Camp.
-Just wants things to be okay and for everyone to be safe and sound. This is a much more complicated goal than it sounds, but by god is she determined to give it her best shot!
-Outside of reading about things like grief counseling and psychological disorders, she enjoys photography and doing little DIY projects to decorate her living space with; definitely the type to have one of those strings of Polaroids in her room that all the old aesthetic blogs back in 2013 loved.
-Has the ability to see the memories of others through her dreams. Big side effect is that whatever memory she brings up will be re-experienced by the memory’s owner while she does so, and considering almost everyone in the Realm has some sort of trauma, she needs to be careful what she makes them re-live. She also hates it in general because she really doesn’t want to breach her new friends’ privacy, but she doesn’t have a choice in the matter.
-Died in a car crash.
SINCLAIR HELLSPARK!
Age: 16
Role in the story: Protagonist
Appearance: Dresses more like they’re from an RPG than the same Earth Alice’s soldiers came from, or at least as close to that as they could get from the local thrift shop. (Dress for the world you want, not the world you have!) The most prominent part of their outfit is a long, slightly oversized brown leather trench coat that goes halfway down Sinclair’s calves, with a strip of red cloth pinned underneath the jacket’s collar roll to mimic a cape. The coat is left open to reveal a black t-shirt and black pants underneath, the latter being ragged at the bottom hems, with a pair of brown combat boots. (I could also see them drawing fake magic circles and runes and shit on the inside of their jacket or down the sides of their pants in gold fabric paint.) They wear a belt around their waist (unconnected to their pants) with a couple of satchels on it to store things, mostly small trinkets and snacks they’ve “borrowed” over time.
Rapid fire info: -One of the two protagonists of the main story.
-Boisterous, loud-mouthed, and generally seen as a pretty cheerful person, though they can also come across as a bit overwhelming and annoying without realizing; a large ham through and through.
-Grew up in a neglectful household and were never quite able to make friends. After a bit, they gave up on trying to get people to like them (kind of) (not really) (they tell themself that, anyway) and decided to just get real weird with it in a way they personally find cool.
-Likes to proclaim that they’re a powerful sorcerer, blessed by the spirit of a dragon to seek out the world’s oddities and protect the innocent with their powers and wit; they will threaten to curse people they don’t like and claim to cast blessings on people who are nice to them, though these never have any effect. Sinclair knows it’s bullshit but it’s FUN bullshit so they don’t plan to stop any time soon.
-Has a bit of Main Character Syndrome, fully believing that their life can and will play out like a story. They try to be genre-savvy in real life and have a tendency to assign character archetypes to people around them, no matter how little they fit that role. (For example, within an hour of meeting Lydia, Sinclair declares that she MUST be their rival.)
-Impulsive; they tend to leap before they look and don’t give enough thought as to how their actions might affect people around them. They’re prone to bouts of arrogance and can’t stand being underestimated.
-Genuinely wanted to get trapped in another world before ending up in the Realm, and are one of the few people to take to the Realm like a duck to water, though they quickly learn to be careful what they wish for.
-LOVES cryptozoology and parapsychology; their back-up dream if they didn’t get isekai’d was to start a cryptid-hunting TV show. They start off as sort of a bit of an overbearing fan towards Gamma, since he’s a figure in local urban legends where Sinclair once lived and they’re overjoyed to learn he’s actually real.
-Sinclair may be cringe but Sinclair is free.
-Died in a car crash.
ALICE’S INNER CIRCLE (+ Mikayla)
Alice
Age: somewhere around 14
Role in the story: Secondary character; an integral figure in the backstory
Appearance: Takes the form of an adorable young girl the majority of the time, with skin that both looks and feels oddly reminiscent of candle wax, owlish brown eyes and straight black hair that falls to her waist. She wears an opulent, knee-length dress reminiscent of a kid’s princess/queen costume. It has a square neckline, puffed sleeves with strips of brown fabric falling to her wrists, corset lacing in the shape of a heart on her stomach, a grey sash tied around her waist in a bow on her back, and brown skirt split in the center to reveal layers of translucent yellow fabric, surrounded by gold embroidery. Sometimes, Alice's soldiers have claimed to see her hair or pieces of her outfit move on their own. This is somehow one of the least weird things about her.
Rapid fire info: -Created the Realm and has god-like powers of reality-warping and creation; she refuses to let anyone forget either of these facts.
-Childish, and acts either cheerful or annoyed about 90% of the time.
-Callous and selfish, often disregarding human suffering as ‘not her problem’ despite being one of the very few people actively bringing them to her world in the first place; generally dislikes humans and especially adults (outside of Gamma, who looks and behaves like one), refusing to allow them into her home; she’d likely do this for all humans if not for the current situation.
-The only person she seems to care about besides herself is Gamma, owing to the long history the two share together and the deep trust that’s formed as a result, which tends to surprise people thanks to the two of them seeming like complete opposites. Gamma helps Alice work through her ideas and points out flaws in her plans, especially when it comes to aspects of humanity Alice is blind to; in return, Alice makes Gamma things she thinks will make him happy and helps to keep him grounded on difficult days, even if she doesn’t fully understand what he’s going through.
-Experiments with her powers for fun, with her most common experiment being the creation of a living creature without really paying attention and then taking it apart while it’s still alive to see what she got wrong. (This is essentially the Author equivalent of life drawing. Still more gruesome than it needs to be, though!)
-Hates admitting things that she sees as a blight on her reputation as an Author (i.e. caring about people, feeling emotions other than joy and rage, wanting to do things other than create, being wrong, etc.), as she takes great pride in her status.
-Morphs into a much less friendly looking version of herself when pissed off, and is prone to having her skin melt like she’s a wax figure when sufficiently annoyed. Even in her ‘normal’ form, her skin is noticeably cold, as though she’s a living corpse, and she often grins with a few more teeth than humans should have.
-She’s basically a weird little girl who was given god-like powers by chance and then let loose on the multiverse.
-If she dies, something terrible will happen…
Mikayla
Age: Has existed for 4 years (behaves and is generally treated like she’s in her late teens/early twenties)
Role in the story: Primary antagonist; an integral figure in the backstory
Appearance: Has replaced her face with a white, porcelain mask decorated with red swirls, and does not appear to have any hair. Her skin tone matches Alice’s - pale like candle wax - though it’s mostly covered by a long, hooded, ivory cloak and the black, veined bodysuit underneath that holds her body together as she regenerates. She’s probably around 5'8-5'10.
Rapid fire info: -Alice’s Creation, meant to be the perfect friend; unfortunately, to Alice this meant ‘basically a carbon copy of myself but taller’, which wound up backfiring horribly once Mikayla learned that she didn’t share Alice’s level of control over the Realm while still sharing Alice’s massive ego.
-Cut off her face to seal her pact with the Breaks, who gave her regenerative powers and limited ability to use portals; now wears a porcelain mask as a replacement face, and uses her cloak to mask her limbs as they regrow.
-Extremely manipulative, and does not take being told “no” well; she’s a massive control freak and tends to lash out without remorse when someone goes against her wishes.
-Switches personas on a whim, going from calm and collected to rage-fueled screaming on a hair trigger when she thinks it will keep people in line. She's very unpredictable as a result, and her soldiers walk on eggshells around her in a vain attempt to keep her from lashing out at them.
-Has a personal grudge against Alice, since Mikayla views Alice simply being alive as both a threat and an insult, and Gamma, since he made many attempts to stop her from achieving her goal to kill Alice. As such, she will do whatever she can to torment and torture them - especially Gamma, as a punishment for him not joining her mutiny.
-She’s basically the most destructive kind of sadism in humanoid form. Just an awful person who takes pleasure in hurting anyone she views as a potential enemy - including those on her own side, if she thinks it will keep them under her thumb.
-Has died at least three times before the main story starts. Unfortunately, this hasn’t stopped her.
Gamma
Age: Has existed for around 8 years (behaves and is generally treated like an adult)
Role in the story: Deuteragonist; a mentor figure for Sinclair; an integral figure in the backstory
Appearance: Very tall (around 6'7-6'10), extremely pale (to the point where other characters’ narrations have remarked he looks like he’s never gone out in the sun in his life), and muscular by necessity for his job. Has black hair that’s always slicked back to his head and golden eyes that never blink with noticeable dark circles underneath. Wears a black suit with a white dress shirt and golden tie underneath. While the suit repairs itself after fights, the lapels and wrists of his sleeves are permanently tattered due to his jacket being a prototype by Alice (Alice could make him a better one now, but he got attached to the original, much to Alice’s chagrin - it’s like a family member hanging an old piece of art you did in high school in their living room to her). His skin on his arms and legs is a slightly different shade from the skin on his head and torso.
Rapid fire info: -A Creation whose guiding purpose is to protect Alice and her Realm; this quickly extended to the human soldiers once he learned how fragile they truly were. He’s tasked himself with keeping an eye on Alice’s other guards to make sure they’re doing their jobs properly, too. 
-Also in charge of the transportation of the dead teenagers from their world to the Realm. Most of the soldiers don’t like associating with him due to this fact, and a good chunk of them outright despise him for being the one to directly trap them in this place.
-Reserved, serious, and excessively secretive. That last part is largely because he’s not one hundred percent sure what does and does not unnerve humans, and so he tends to hide information he thinks might cause them distress, even if it ends up being something benign.
-Constantly researching things like anthropology, sociology, psychology and history just for fun, since he finds Earth absolutely fascinating. It’s basically an alien planet to him, and he has a deep respect for its inhabitants. Alice has joked on occasion that he’d start a human fanclub “if he had ten percent less dignity and anyone who’d join it.”
-One of the few people Alice views as something close to an equal, which is more than anybody else can say. This is due to their long history together, which according to Gamma, includes her saving his life numerous times, and led to him becoming her bodyguard to return the favour.
-Has been through Some Shit before the wars even began, and his mental health is incredibly poor as a result; he blames himself whenever things go wrong in the Realm out of reflex, tends to have extreme fight-or-flight responses to perceived threats, has a self-esteem in the negatives and copes by being almost fanatically devoted to his given role compared to Alice’s other guards. Most notably, he seems to fall into extreme panic when surrounded by the colour teal…
-Seems to have some odd abilities that it’s assumed Alice gave him, since he’s much stronger than a normal human and has a tendency to know things he really has no right knowing (the latter is thanks to him constantly hearing the thoughts of everyone around him; it’s less of a power to him and more like a sense. He fully believed this was a Normal Human Experience for most of his life, and when he learned the humans weren’t letting him read their thoughts willingly, it freaked him out badly enough that he suppressed this ability as best as he could manage, to the point where all he hears now are muted whispers unless he directly ‘tunes in’.)
-Is absolutely bewildered by Sinclair not only tolerating him but actually seeming to enjoy his presence, and he warms up to them over the course of the story.
-this man has so much going on with him I swear to fuck. he's kind of the default protagonist for anything taking place before Lydia and Sinclair show up on the timeline, and he’ll probably be in a LOT of the prompt fills lmao
-Hasn’t died yet, despite the universe’s best attempts.
ALICE'S SOLDIERS
Cynthia
Age: 17
Role in the story: Secondary character, somewhat of a mentor figure for Lydia and Sinclair; an integral figure in the backstory
Appearance: No solid outfit design just yet. (Her old outfit was designed when I was around 14 years old and included a t-shirt that said ’#SWAG’ on it. I wish I was fucking joking.) What I know for now is she has olive-toned skin and a bob hair cut, dyed a dark blue/indigo, along with grey, almost silver eyes. She likely has a muscular build out of necessity, and probably wears something simple and easy to move in in case of a surprise attack.
Rapid fire info: -Co-leader of the Soldier’s Camp; also one of the very first humans in the Realm.
-Used to be somewhat snarky with a heart of gold shining through, but the massacre that was the First Break War made her withdraw to the point that she’s become extremely stoic.
-Asked Alice to remove her memories of her past life during the First Break War so they wouldn’t hold her back; some suspect Alice took a little more than just that.
-Hard to read, and comes off as cold to most people, only really opening up to Dylan since they went through the First Break War together, and forged a deep trust as a result. She’s usually the one to push him to go and rest when he starts putting too much on his shoulders (and he’s usually quick to point out how hypocritical it is for her of all people to say this, lmao)
-Focuses mostly on strategy, supplies and upkeep of the camp while Dylan takes care of the human element. Extremely practical and a bit of a workaholic, to the point of requesting a murphy bed for her bedroom so she could use it as an office (with her reasoning being, “there’s no point in having two separate rooms when one could serve the same purpose.”).
-Is responsible for multiple quality of life features for the Camp in some way, including walkie-talkies the soldiers can use to warn everyone of potential attacks and repurposing some areas of the under-populated camp to be for storage of emergency supplies. Spends much of her time considering what she could request to improve things further.
-Almost all the soldiers see her as the Realm’s ultimate authority figure due to her strict nature - considering Dylan’s more relaxed attitude and Alice being… well, Alice - though some (like Morgan and Sydney) aren’t afraid to talk back to her if they feel like it.
-Deeply despises Gamma for reasons even she doesn’t fully understand; it seems to stem from the time right before she got her mind-wipe. He’s the only person she’ll actively lash out against, and he never so much as protests.
-Has a love of music, and if she isn’t busy working to make sure the camp has everything it needs to keep everyone happy and healthy, she can typically be found in her room, listening to music on a pair of headphones and tuning out the world. (Though, naturally, she keeps her walkie-talkie on her at all times in case of emergencies.)
-Her cause of death is unknown, though it’s assumed she was stabbed or impaled in some way due to her death scar (a large, jagged cut just below her ribcage).
Dylan
Age: 18
Role in the story: Secondary character, mentor figure for Lydia
Appearance: No solid design just yet. What I know for now is that he has sepia/brown skin, short hair, and mostly wears a faded blue hoodie over a black t-shirt and a pair of navy blue jeans. (Outfit might change with time)
Rapid fire info: -Co-leader of the Soldier’s Camp.
-Generally a relaxed, optimistic person who does his best to keep the morale of the camp high; he’s basically what Lydia wishes she could be, and he quickly takes her under his wing once he realizes how much she reminds him of both himself and Cynthia when they first arrived.
-Helps newcomers get settled in the Camp, and acts as mediator for disagreements; some joke that he’s essentially the camp’s HR guy, or sarcastically call him the “Camp’s Counselor”. Most of the younger members look up to him like an older brother, and it’s a role he’s happily taken to (largely as a way to cope with missing his family from Earth deeply - especially his younger sister, Dawn, who he was once very close with).
-Doesn’t talk about his own problems much to avoid troubling people, though most are aware that he gets severe anxiety upon hearing gunshots and will warn him if a movie or game will contain them. Everyone in the camp thinks he came out of the First Break War unscathed because of this, since he doesn't really show any signs of trauma from it. He absolutely did not.
-One of the few who spoke with Gamma before they died; as such, he’s one of the few soldiers who isn’t all that intimidated by his presence, and often goes to speak with Alice and Gamma on the camp’s behalf. One of his weekly chores is to just gather everyone’s requests and bring them to Alice’s Manor, since he’s the only one willing to do it.
-Used to be in the swim team in his school and played in a band with his two best friends - Tyler and Kieran - since the beginning of high school (he did guitar and backup vocals). He was also often among the top five highest-scoring students in many of his classes. Unfortunately, most of these skills and achievements are completely useless in the Realm, much to his chagrin.
-Still enjoys playing the guitar and regularly requests sheet music to learn new songs in his free time, as well as coming up with new ones on his own. Sometimes, he plays for Cynthia while they’re relaxing. He knows all of her favourite songs by heart at this point.
-Died in a school shooting.
Morgan
Age: 18
Role in the story: Secondary character
Rapid fire info: -Medic for the Soldier’s Camp
Appearance: Has albinism, so her hair is a very pale grey (long, but often pulled back into a bun, with lash-grazing bangs), her skin is pale and pinkish, and her eyes are red (which is actually very uncommon for people with albinism, but considering her spite towards Alice… Yeah, they weren’t always that colour). She’s noticeably tall compared to the others - probably around 5'10 - 6'1. She wears a plain white t-shirt with pale grey jeans under a long, burgundy cardigan that falls to the back of her knees in a silhouette similar to a lab coat. Her fingers and lips are permanently discolored from her death, stuck a greyish-blue.
Rapid-fire personality info: -Both a soldier and the senior of the camp’s two medics; she wants to give up her medical duties to stick to solely fighting instead, but she can’t bring herself to dump those responsibilities solely on Trinity’s shoulders.
-Had a rough upbringing where she was put under constant pressure to succeed that burnt her out, and the First Break War killed the last remnants of any optimism Morgan once had; now, she’s resentful towards the world and everyone in it for her shitty circumstances, lashing out at anyone who dares come close to her when she’s in a bad mood (which she nearly always is).
-Known for her sharp tongue, harsh criticisms of others, and tendency to estimate to newcomers’ faces how long she thinks they’ll live - usually no longer than a month - giving her a reputation for being cold and cruel. The twins have nicknamed her “The Ice Queen” because of this.
-At the same time, she is the most skilled soldier the Realm has, considering her incredible combat skill and her high amount of medical knowledge, and she works tirelessly to maintain that status; a perfectionist to her core, Morgan cannot stand being “only” second best.
-Has an ongoing feud with Sydney due to their clashing worldviews - Morgan believing Sydney’s a complete idiot who’s destined to get herself (and possibly others) killed with her thrill-seeking, Sydney believing Morgan’s a killjoy who’s dead set on making a shitty situation even shittier, especially for the newcomers who are already in an incredibly stressful position. Neither are entirely wrong, but neither are entirely right either.
-Is unlikely friends with Trinity, due to Morgan appreciating her dedication to her unwanted role and far better bedside manners, and Morgan does her best to keep her abrasive side to a minimum around Trinity to keep the kid from getting scared of her. Every day, Morgan resents the fact that Trinity ended up in the Realm at all, and she’ll do whatever it takes to keep her from suffering any more than she already has. (There might be a little projection happening there...)
-Isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty if it ends the war faster; to Morgan, the ends ALWAYS justify the means, especially if that end is a future where no one in the camp needs to suffer anymore.
-In what little downtime she allows herself, Morgan can usually be found reading fantasy novels in the camp’s library. Every now and again she’ll also paint with Trinity, if the kid invites her.
-Died of hypothermia
Sydney
Age: 16
Role in the story: Secondary character
Appearance: Has sort of amber-toned skin that’s patched with burn scars from her death, most prominently covering much of the right side of her head and almost the entirety of her hands and forearms. Since the right side of her head can’t grow much hair anymore, her short brown hair is styled into a comb-over, and she has light brown, orange-toned eyes. Wears a black leather jacket over a yellow shirt (which likely has some sort of flame pattern on it that gets covered up by the jacket) and shorts with spiked studs on the left side, with purposefully-ripped black leggings underneath.
Rapid fire info: -A former delinquent with a love of fire who fights Breaks with a nailbat (and occasionally flamethrowers) for the thrill of it all.
-The most Chaotic Good member of the team by far; she doesn’t give a shit about any rules if it means having a great time with her friends. She's decided that if she's stuck in a bad situation, then she's gonna have fun with it and live each day like it's her last.
-Has the most prominent death-scars of any of Alice’s soldiers, and while she was pretty self-conscious of them when she first arrived, she doesn’t really care anymore, proudly wearing outfits that have them on full display. It’s half posturing to make herself seem more badass, and half Sydney trying to show newcomers that their scars are nothing to feel ashamed of.
-An adrenaline junkie at heart. When there aren’t enough Breaks to fight, Sydney will start doing stupid stunts to get the same rush, much to Morgan’s intense chagrin; this directly led to their ongoing animosity in the Main Story.
-Helps train newcomers alongside Dylan; newcomers often see her as a cool big sister figure, but don’t tend to look up to her as much as they look up to Dylan, thanks to Sydney discouraging it and being far more irresponsible in general. 
-She’s kind of the “if I just keep moving at all times then my problems can never catch me!!” type, and tries not to dwell on bad situations any longer than it takes for her to make a shitty joke about them.
-Has always had a certain love for fire, but the stressors of the Realm have turned it into honest pyromania; it’s well-known that when Sydney’s under a lot of stress or incredibly pissed off, she’ll gather random shit and start a bonfire somewhere out in the forest. She is single-handedly responsible for Alice forest-fire-proofing the woods around the camp.
-Is good friends with Troy and Bianca, and she often shirks her duties to hang out with them. They can often be found either in the Main Hall’s living room area watching movies, or in the Hall’s hidden rec room playing different party games with them. (Sydney adores action movies and fighting games the most, along with FPS games.)
-Died in a house fire.
Trinity
Age: 13
Role in the story: Secondary character
Appearance: Looks even younger than her age, with many newcomers mistaking her for being 10 or 11. Has fawn, freckled skin, and dirty blonde hair that’s always pulled into a tight braid over her shoulder, along with deep green eyes. Wears a short/cuffed-sleeve, green button-up shirt with a darker green scarf covering her entire neck, and khaki shorts with cuffs that just barely scrape the tops of her knees.
Rapid fire info: -A girl who turned out to be a medical prodigy, brought into the Realm when they needed medics most - which is all very convenient, isn’t it? :) As of the 'present day’ in story, she’s the junior of the two medics. 
-Extremely timid around people - especially strangers - due to a history of severe bullying; it can take a newcomer weeks to hear her voice for the first time. However, she takes comfort in helping others and is prone to showing a slightly more confident side of herself when doing her job due to the sense of agency it provides her.
-Very self conscious of the bruise on her neck left by her death, often hiding it with a green scarf that also acts as something of a comfort item to her.
-Since she’s easily the youngest and most fragile member of the camp, all of Alice’s soldiers are extremely protective of her, doing whatever they can to keep her away from danger - Morgan especially so, to the point where she’s known to push Trinity away from people who may be dying so that Trinity doesn’t blame herself later if they do pass on. 
-Tries to push Morgan to be less of a jerk to everyone around her; this works, but only when Trinity’s around, much to Trinity’s chagrin. Still, Trinity hopes that one day, Morgan can find some semblance of happiness, or at least peace. 
-When she’s not in the infirmary, Trinity can be found either in her cabin painting, or in the greenhouse with her sketchbook. Natural landscapes and plants are her favourite subjects, and working on art helps to soothe her nerves. She’s pretty good at it for her age, too! Morgan’s cabin is full of her artwork, and she’s also given a couple pieces to Dylan and the twins. 
-Died after falling out of a tree. 
Troy
Age: 15
Role in the story: Secondary character
Appearance: I’ll be honest, I have basically nothing for this kid. I know he probably has shaggy ginger hair, and pale, freckled skin. He’s also probably pretty scrawny. That’s it. That’s all I’ve got for now. I kind of just imagine him as your average freshman tbh, lol
Rapid fire info: -Bianca’s twin brother
-The Realm’s only marksman, due to both how close-quarters Break combat tends to be, and due to Alice not wanting to constantly be using her energy to create ammo (and also to limit the amount of people who can kill her from long-range, should that ever become a problem). He uses specially-made airsoft guns that shoot pellets containing an Alice-made substance; it’s harmless towards humans with a sedative effect after around three to five shots, but an extremely potent acid when used on Breaks. This is largely due to the other soldiers fighting with melee weapons, along with one of their best fighters (Dylan) having trauma surrounding firearms; these guns were specifically made to look and sound different enough that they don’t set off any triggers for him while still being effective long-range weapons, though they do still make Dylan nervous to be around. 
-Troy prefers machines and weapons to people; he can often be found tinkering with various devices around the camp or maintaining his guns to ensure they’re in tip-top shape. Meanwhile, he's often a bit awkward around people, especially those he's unfamiliar with, stumbling on his words and overthinking everything he says.
-The Resident Gamer of the group, with a particular love for retro arcade games. The most likely place to find him is in the camp’s hidden rec room, trying again and again to beat the nigh-impossible high scores Alice sets on each of the arcade cabinets when she makes them. He’s also a fan of FPSes and fighting games, and he and Sydney can spend hours competing to see which of them is the best. 
-Has a bit of social anxiety not helped by Bianca pushing people away from the two of them, nor the fact that they were killed by a classmate who seemed perfectly harmless and friendly at first, giving him some trust issues that he keeps firmly under wraps. 
-Knows he’s a bit boring compared to his sister and their best friend (Sydney), and it bothers him constantly, but he does his best not to let it show. He cares about both of them deeply in spite of this, especially Bianca - despite everything that's happened, she's still the closest person in his life.
-Knows that Bianca has issues due to their deaths, but doesn’t know just how bad those issues are, nor how to properly help her with them; he just does his best to be there for her and hopes it’s enough. (It’s not.) 
-Generally just wants to make the best of the shitty situation he and his sister have been dropped in and stop the wars for good.
-Died by being stabbed three times in the chest.
Bianca
Age: 15
Role in the story: Secondary character
Appearance: Has shoulder-length, ginger hair often pulled into two short pigtails, along with pale, freckled skin and green eyes. Wears a large headbow shaped like a bat, along with a short-sleeved, almost retro-looking, knee-length, plain black dress with a red belt. The belt holds a large pocket knife, as well as a small sack full of throwing knives, in case of an emergency.
Rapid fire info: -Troy’s twin sister
-She and Troy were killed in the same incident - one that Bianca feels responsible for, as she’s the one who trusted their killer the most. Not only that, but she was forced to watch her brother die while being helpless to do anything to stop it. This has led her to become severely over-protective of Troy and extremely paranoid that anyone around them could turn out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing without warning. 
-Acts cheerful and air-headed around other members of the camp despite this; while part of it is a ploy to get people to underestimate her, it’s mostly genuine - a bit of her old self peeking through the cracks. 
-Has a fixation on knives as a result of her death, seeing them as something powerful, but only as long as they’re in her hands. She’s even been known to threaten people she sees as threats to Troy at knifepoint, though she’s never followed through when called on her bluff. If anyone else wields a knife against her, she panics, sometimes even to the point of passing out.
-Came to trust Sydney after one such incident, where Sydney made it crystal clear to Bianca that she wasn’t about to hurt either of the twins. Looks up to the older soldier quite a bit, and she’s the only person Bianca full-heartedly trusts to be alone with Troy. 
-Was just beginning to really experiment with aesthetics when she died, and while keeping her brother around is her number-one priority, she loves to DIY new decorations for her cabin and often requests different clothing from Alice. 
-Died by being stabbed multiple times in the abdomen.
MIKAYLA'S SOLDIERS 
Dawn
Age: 18
Role in the story: Secondary antagonist
Appearance: I don’t have much for her just yet. What I know for now is that she has sepia/brown skin, eyes that are so dark brown they’re nearly black, has long hair tied into several braids tucked into a ponytail, and probably wears entirely black. I like the idea of her wearing a caplet of some kind. 
Rapid-fire info: -Mikayla’s first success in creating a ‘general’ for her army, through a torturous process that involved trapping Dawn in a series of ever-worsening nightmares that only Mikayla’s intervention would save her from. (Fun fact! This is heavily inspired by a pixel animation on YouTube called Marenol, as well as the song O Light by KikuoHana.) 
-Much like Cynthia, her experiences have left her severely withdrawn and seemingly emotionless, though Dawn is much more apathetic and blunt. She’s become a woman of few words, only speaking in short, clipped sentences when necessary. 
-Has grown resentful of her brother, Dylan, as after his death she felt he had to fill his shoes to keep her family happy; considering that Dylan was naturally gifted in a lot of different areas, this led to Dawn spiraling when she couldn’t live up to those same lofty expectations. 
-Half-believes Mikayla when she says the Soldier’s Camp is inhabited by Alice’s Creations and not real humans; as such, Dawn can be ruthless and cunning on the battlefield, though she hesitates to actually kill anyone. 
-Is deeply terrified of Mikayla, largely because she knows full well that Mikayla could trap her back in the looping nightmares at any point if she messes up. 
-Once each sibling learns that the other is in the Realm, they’re gonna be in for a rough time… 
-I don't have much for her yet, largely because I really wasn't sure what to do with her before this rewrite.
-Committed suicide. 
The Oracle
Age: 17
Role in the story: Secondary antagonist/character 
Appearance: A malnourished girl with unruly brown hair who wears a long white nightgown at all times. Her body is wrapped with bandages, the most notable of which being around her eyes; taking the facial bandages off is not recommended, as it typically results in the Oracle shrieking until they’re returned. 
Rapid-fire info: -A failed experiment of Mikayla’s to get a human to use Life Force the way an Author can, largely in order to create someone capable of seeing into the future. In some ways, she did succeed, though she absolutely destroyed the Oracle’s mind in the process. 
-The Oracle has lost all sense of self, forgetting her past life entirely and becoming incapable of truly perceiving the present when she isn’t being directly spoken to. As a meager form of coping, the Oracle has dedicated herself entirely to the idea of ‘destiny’, viewing it almost like a god. 
-Seems to view Lydia as a kindred spirit, which freaks Lydia out a bit. It makes her worry that her own powers could end up leaving her in a similar state (though that’s largely because Lydia doesn’t know what exactly led to the Oracle’s powers). 
-There isn’t too much to say about the Oracle, largely thanks to her playing a small role in the story and her lacking much in the way of personal agency for much of it due to her circumstances. 
-Cause of death unknown; assumed to be suicide. 
ALICE’S TEAM OF GUARDS: 
The Serpent
Age: Has been around for about three years. 
Role in the story: Basically set dressing lol
Appearance: A massive snake made of dark grey stone, about twenty feet long, with a human-like hand where the tip of its tail should be that it uses to hold onto the door to Alice’s Garden. It has two curved horns on the top of its head and a mouth full of sharp, stalactite-esque teeth. Its eyes glow different colours based on the feedback it's received; in its neutral state they’re light purple, when a riddle has been answered correctly they glow red (because Alice wanted to fuck with people, basically), and when someone has failed its test they glow bright green. 
Rapid-fire info: -A living security system Alice set up over the door to her manor. At first, the Serpent only tested a creature’s ability to speak before allowing them passage, but Mikayla proceeded to alter the Breaks so a few could mimic human speech, so Alice altered it to tell riddles instead. If you fail three times, you’re eaten alive, and while it does slowly assimilate its victims into the raw meat that makes up its insides, any unfortunate human consumed would die of dehydration due to how long this process takes. Thankfully, Alice can typically figure out if a human’s been eaten within a day or so, and will usually get the Serpent to spit them out. She won’t help with the acid burns, though - that’s not her problem as far as she’s concerned.
-Largely lacks a personality, as it doesn’t require it to do its job. However, it does seem to have some opinions, as it respects Gamma quite a bit as the lead guard and has a mild distaste for the gargoyles’ antics. 
-Will gladly answer questions asked to it (once its riddle is solved, of course), though its answers can be cryptic and lead to even further questions. 
-Is the main reason Alice’s soldiers really don’t like visiting her manor, since it freaks them the hell out (and to be fair, the threat of being eaten alive would do that to most people). 
The Gargoyles (El and Ar) 
Age: About three years old. 
Role in the story: Basically set dressing lol
Appearance: They basically just look like dragon-esque gargoyles, made of the same grey stone as the Serpent, that are about the size of a large dog. Each has gemstones for eyes, with El’s being sapphires and Ar’s being rubies. (Fun fact! These two were inspired by two identical lion statues my grandma has outside of her house, framing her front door, though the irl statues are MUCH smaller than the gargoyles.) 
Rapid-fire info: -Created to guard Alice’s Manor personally once the human soldiers got their own camp, as well as clean up the mess left behind after Break attacks. They have pedestals outside of the Manor’s front door - El sits on the left, Ar sits on the right. 
-Absolutely inseparable, mostly because these two have a single brain cell to share between the both of them and it spends all its time thinking about meat. They have a penchant for speaking in unison and finishing one another's sentences. 
-Both of them have identical, almost manic personalities, and it would be impossible to tell one apart from the other if not for their differing eye colours. 
-They’re basically the Realm’s janitors, eating leftover Break flesh once attacks finish to keep the Realm (and especially the Soldier’s Camp) nice and clean. The humans aren’t big fans of them, due to their winning personalities, and Gamma shares this opinion, largely thanks to the two of them shirking their duties more often than not to go hunting in the woods together. (Alice thinks they’re funny little guys, though.) Fortunately, they’ve been specifically programmed to find the taste of human flesh repulsive. 
-The best way I can describe them is that they have seagull vibes. They’re like if you made a seagull the size of a dog and gave it the ability to speak. 
Diver
Age: Less than a year old
Role in the story: Basically set dressing lol 
Appearance: Its head is a massive, seven-foot-tall brass antique diving helmet, from which three immense tendrils made of some sort of black sludge protrude. It has no sensory organs to speak of, but it seems to be able to navigate just fine, even getting a bit too close to humans it gets curious about as if to get a better look at them. 
Rapid-fire info: -Alice originally created this funky thing as an experiment, then liked it so much she gave it its own fountain in her backyard and made it a guard. 
-Has about the same mental capacity as a toddler, and is prone to doing odd things when it gets curious about something; is known to climb on top of the Manor’s roof and stretching up as tall as it can in order to see outside of the walls surrounding it, which is mostly just seen as a nuisance. 
-It still has the craving for Break flesh, like most of its carnivorous peers. It can absorb any organic material it wants through its sludge, though it seems to be able to choose what it does and does not want to assimilate into itself, as it doesn’t consume things like grass by moving over it. 
-It isn’t allowed outside of the Manor’s walls like the gargoyles are - largely because Gamma fears it might consume a human if given the opportunity and wants to keep a close eye on any interactions it might have with them, just in case - and as such, the other guards need to regularly bring it Break flesh to feed on. (Something the gargoyles like to “forget” to do so they can keep it all for themselves.) 
Blitz
Age: Has existed for a little over eight years
Role in the story: Basically set dressing lol
Appearance: A mis-match of parts from different Earth animals, with the body and fur of an adolescent black lab that hasn’t quite grown into their paws yet, a feline head, a fox’s tail and large ears similar to a lop-eared rabbit’s. The tips of his tail and ears are white, as if they were dipped in white paint. Blitz also has a small clock embedded in his forehead (and maybe on his shoulders and flanks as well, haven’t decided yet), and through the gears you can catch glimpses of his brain. 
Rapid-fire info: -Calling Blitz a ‘guard’ is a bit of a misnomer, but he doesn’t really fit in any other category (aside from Alice’s Inner Circle, but it felt misleading to put him above Cynthia considering his unimportance to the narrative); he’s the first permanent Creation Alice ever made, and he’s around largely to be a companion creature, though he’s really just chilling. 
-Has no tongue (Alice got so caught up making sure the rest of him was perfect that he gained consciousness without one), so he’s easily mistaken to be more animalistic than he is by the humans, but he’s really got the mind of a small child and can communicate telepathically with Alice and all of her Creations with ease. Alice could make him a tongue, and has offered in the past, but Blitz prefers this. 
-Has not aged physically or mentally since his creation because he simply does not want to. Because of this, Gamma treats him like a beloved younger sibling despite Blitz technically being older than him by several months, even reading the little guy bedtime stories regularly. The affection is mutual, as Blitz admires his ‘Big Brother’ a whole lot. (Enough that Blitz uses he/him pronouns purely because Gamma does and Blitz thinks Gamma’s cool.) 
-Blitz is almost as curious about the humans as Gamma is, mostly out of childish wonder at these strange new beasts in his home, but Alice and Gamma won’t let him go outside any further than the Manor’s gardens since he’d be easy Break food. He’s very happy in the rare times that humans do come and visit. 
-Completely desensitized to gore and the like thanks to spending most of his time around Alice ever since he was made, but does get extremely sad when one of the humans or one of the guards die; he doesn’t fully get the concept of death, but he understands it just enough to know that it means he's never gonna see someone again.  -Quite literally exists to sit around being cute. He’s very good at it!! 
Some Random Timeline Bullshit:
Order of Arrival To The Realm: Cynthia (4.5 years before the main story (BMS)) -> Dylan (4 years BMS) -> Morgan (3.5-4 years BMS) -> Sydney (3 years BMS) -> Trinity (2.5 years BMS) -> Bianca + Troy (6-8 months BMS) -> Lydia + Sinclair (start of main story)
The First Break War happened around four years before the main story, lasting about a year and leading to the deaths of almost a hundred people. The Second Break War happened around a year and a half before the main story, lasting around six to eight months and leading to the deaths of a little over a dozen people.
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maerhiya · 2 months
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in regards to the constant dismissal of his aroace identity, i hate it when alastor 'fans' say and use the excuse: "he's fictional, he won't get offended."
like, you're right, but it can and will offend us.
when you see yourself being represented on screen, of course you'd feel enthusiastic about it — representation allows individuals to see themselves reflected in the media they consume, validating their identities and experiences. but when so many people take that representation and decide to disregard and discard it, it is so fucking frustrating. we finally have another character to be part of the tiny amount of representation we have, but then people don't even care about how much it means to us? like yeah, alastor won't get offended because he's not real, but it frustrates and annoys us. do you realize that it's also technically invalidating the aroace community? that you're invalidating our feelings? imagine feeling like you're finally being seen because your orientation is finally being represented in media, and people just decide to blatantly ignore, discard, and invalidate it.
media has such a powerful influence on real life, representation being a prevalent factor of it. there are numerous posts that dictate how people went to watch a movie/show or read a book just because a character depicts their identity in it — obviously, being represented is an incredibly uplifting and validating experience.
which is why seeing an aroace character in a popular show is so meaningful to us because we live in a world where romance and sex are literally everywhere and prioritized above all else. (and it's pretty obvious that alastor's on the repulsed end of the spectrum, but even if he wasn't, at least make an effort to acknowledge his sexuality instead of continuing to portray him as allo; aroace folks can be in relationships but it's not going to be the same thing with allos' experiences.)
any and every representation matters, but why does that seem to stop at people under the aroace spectrum? like y'all can't even let us appreciate the scraps of representation we have. we barely have any, so are we really that dramatic for being upset at how people easily disregard and dismiss our identities that are being depicted on screen just like that? is it truly wrong of us to want to defend and maintain the little representation we have?
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lovesickeros · 5 months
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☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]
{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]
Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.
It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.
Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.
She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.
She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.
Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.
And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.
She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.
So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.
Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.
..A dangerous prize, too.
She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.
"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.
He looked out of breath, she noted.
The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.
He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.
"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."
Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.
But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.
So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.
If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.
Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.
What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..
The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.
So if not the prophecy, then what?
Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.
She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.
..A draw, perhaps.
The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.
She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.
Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.
She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.
She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.
"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."
All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.
With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.
Each piece had it's purpose.
Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.
She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.
It was almost too easy.
She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.
The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.
She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.
With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.
Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.
She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.
Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.
The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.
Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.
..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.
She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.
"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..
Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.
Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.
It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.
She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.
For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.
And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.
She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.
"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"
Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..
The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!
"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."
Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.
"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"
..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.
She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.
"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.
Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."
Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.
"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?
She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?
"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."
The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.
"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"
Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.
"Have you no answer?"
The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.
Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.
"I will kill them myself."
Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.
"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."
They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.
"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"
Did she?
"Will you help me?"
She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.
"..Yes."
#sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin impact sagau#self aware genshin impact#fic tag#imposter au#genshin cult au#genshin impact cult au#arlecchino#lyney#furina#you do NOT wanna know what i got put thru writing this fic#trying 2 find out where arle was in the few times we DO see her and going down a rabbit hole of fuck fontaine and its layout actually!#I spent like 3 hours looking it up and checking in game it gives me a migraine thinking abt it. ew#anyway trying to write a really smart character is surprisingly difficult when ur as dumb as rocks#also used an actual chess match for this and gave myself an even worse migraine trying 2 make sure i didnt repeat moves or smth#furina doesnt get a spotlight yet just imagine her sitting in the corner trembling like a wet kitten you found on the side of the road#arlecchino goes thru a crisis more at 11#shes a tired single dad shes isnt getting paid enough for this okay#hands u a fic over half the length of the other THREE PARTS#ehe :]#is arle actually on ur side??? is she gonna double cross u???? who knows!!!!!#shes unpredictable she might stab u for funsies#anyway im gonna go nap in a ditch now this took SO LONGGGGG OH MY G-D#also just think acolytes who arent buddy buddy w reader and even resent them is so tasty#bc how r they supposed 2 know reader was a human vibing 5 minutes before their got eebied 2 teyvat..#reader gotta roll up their sleeves and get 2 WORK sometimes murder IS okay#they gotta fix some shit around here and that means committing several crimes all at once. sometimes more#a group can be g-d (just got here) their dragon (neuvi) their cat (archon) their dog (wrio) and their wolf (arle)
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blade gunnblade !!!!!!!!
via eliza simpson:
There are no words for this true warrior. They kill me. MMM: went in for a post show hug. Me:"ow!" Asia: "oh sorry, that's my bullet necklace." 😳........ 😍
#blade gunnblade#asia kate dillon#kapow-i gogo#eliza simpson of [angel & others in the mysteries] & [the mother line story project] & [saw ak dillon in triptych yes we're jealous]#& [princess cloudberry in kapow-i gogo]#here we also see stephen stout in the 1st pic but going ''!! surely our dear cherished blade gunnblade's back. hair's long though hmm''#only to have that cleared up by the 3rd pic thank god =']#i guess at some point blade gunnblade has blue hair & i do love that for them#i believe they're in part 3 but i have all the less information about that plausible appearance#(and of course still no info on [asia perhaps doubling roles with the longer black haired wig & ultracorp jacket in that one pic?])#one thing that would be fascinating & fun is if part 3 blade has more of part 1 kapow-i's look. the bright blue hair#looks like pink lipstick. Pure Speculation but i know the like [this is reaction to You Know How Media Is] element discussed like#part 1 thinking most [sat. morning cartoons experience; the legend of] part 2 is like when these series get sequels or just some#ep or turning point that upends its own previous established conventions. Darker more Serious / Mature Themes etc#part 3 like well sequel to That which adds yet another layer of the same factor there lol#i'm not really that versed in All This Media directly b/c i'm not that versed in / familiar with much of any media directly but#i am also not completely at sea & also one thing i could think of is like. blade is our revenge vengeance tragic anti antagonist lmao#what if after that they get to lighten up in delightful contrast to the torment & tragedy. turn more optimistic moral support bestie etc#but like i said utter speculation based on ''oh this is a look they have?'' & comments on [comments on material commenting on itself] so#could be anything! or nothing! except that it's Something enough to have been photographed a couple of times. thank god#oh hang on also we can see that that's stephen stout's character in the pic of Wearing A Black Longer Haired Wig & Ultracorp Jacket#who's to say it isn't also: yes that's blade disguised or something. underneath they have this bright blue shorter wig & Blade Outfit lol#i would cheer for that. compelling#(also noting that it didn't preclude a doubling of roles instead but; that figure Is wearing blade's necklace. makes it easy to switch to#Blade Mode backstage; makes it easy to switch to Blade Mode onstage....)#which: noted! bullet necklace! makes sense lmao. sort of#also pic 2 ft. director kristin mccarthy parker fyi. and the typical blade hair length i.e. simply asia's own.#''😳........ 😍'' soooooo true ''MMM:'' standing for ''most memorable moment:'' and also sooooo true as well#blade gunnblade is everything to me. if they died in part 3 i'm blowing this whole building up. they have bright blue hair now
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genspiel · 8 months
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artifact farming for lyney and fischl is going about as well as expected (which is to say, terribly)
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pokimoko · 2 years
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Thank you @thealterscrolls for tagging me to list my Top 10 favourite characters from different fandoms! (My first tag game...*wipes tear* I’ve done it. I’ve got a good grade in mutual.) So in no particular order, here they are:
Steven Grant (MCU)
Hunter (The Owl House)
Jon Sims (The Magnus Archives)
The Eleventh Doctor (Doctor Who)
Ella Lopez (Lucifer)
Peridot (Steven Universe)
Simon Petrikov (Adventure Time)
Percy de Rolo (The Legend of Vox Machina)
Castiel (Supernatural)
Logan (Sanders Sides)
I’ll tag @theophagism, @screechthemighty, @fdelopera, @kennydied911, @usaigi, and @ayratheaverage to join in (only if you want to). If anyone else who follows me wants to join in; just say I sent you. ;)
#tag game#*blushing as i tag people* is this allowed? are we mutual enough for this?#(some of you i'm not even mutuals with but like...we know each other. you're a friend from discord/my notes)#i would've tagged my polycule pizzee and kier but tip already tagged them for this so you're here in spirit#but yeah time to publicly announced my particular brand of Blorbo#'Oh yeah I got tagged can't wait to list all my fav guys!' *suddenly forgets every character i've ever liked*#but anyway here's my top 10 (at the moment)#honourable mentions to: donatello (trotmnt). huey (ducktales). data (star trek). steve (stranger things).#zuko (atla) finn/obi-wan/c3po (star wars). crowley (gomens). chloe price (LIS). catra/double trouble (she-ra). eugene (t:ts). toothless#also honourable mention to bucky barnes. loki. thor. leopold fitz. Lucifer. clara oswald and marceline the vampire queen#because I love them all too but I was trying to stick to one character per fandom#(and I'm realising a lot of my favourite characters are from marvel...hehe oh no)#and yeah i don't *love* spn now but i can't deny cas was my guy for a long while#(*sigh* in that vein i should also mention lance from voltron because before that went to shit i really liked him too)#god i've been through a lot of fandoms through the years#leaving behind a trail of traumatised and neurodivergent favs#(also i should be frank i did get tagged once for a tag game back in like 2018 by ayra and i just...never got round to it...oops)#(so trying to make it up to you now ayra by tagging you in this)#i fucking forgot samwise gamgee and bilbo baggins! also some honourable mentions!
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infizero · 5 months
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i have never known peace since egg memo 17
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isaacathom · 1 year
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thank god ive had my middle name set as alasdair for ages because sm1 in the gaming club is considering changing his name is Alistair and im like :x if id only picked alasdair recently that would've nixed it off the bat
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ddejavvu · 9 months
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'oh, you LOVE me!' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :)
The team visiting Spencer for one reason or another on their day off & reader opens the door (maybe even wearing one of Spence's shirts) and that's how they all find out Spencer is in a relationship?
The doorbell rings, and even if Spencer weren't hobbling around on crutches with a rolled ankle, you'd have bolted to answer the door. You've got new shoes coming, a treat from your boyfriend himself, and they're set to arrive today before 9PM. It's 6, and you're eager to finally put them on.
However, it's not the mailman at the door, not unless the US Postal Service has gotten a huge budget increase. The man that stands at the door is dressed in a fine suit, something you're sure cost more than double what your shoes had, and he seems mildly surprised to see you behind the door.
There's a posse of people behind him, and you wonder if this is some sort of special delivery system. But no one seems to have your package, and you tilt your head at an angle, "Can I help you?"
His eyes narrow infinitesimally, curiously, "Yes, we're here to see Dr. Spencer Reid," The man speaks up, his voice deep and smooth, "Did we have the wrong address?"
"No- No! Hotch," Spencer shouts from his place on the couch, and you hear the clatter of crutches, "Hotch, wait!"
"Spencer," You gush, ditching the door to make sure he doesn't tip himself over in his sudden pursuit of his callers, "Spence, go slow, you'll trip."
"I'm fine," He pants, moving as fast as he can to the door, his cheeks unusually rosy, "Uh, what- what do you guys need?"
Upon sighting him, the rest of the people behind the door exchange glances with each other, like they hadn't quite believed just his voice. You're hovering awkwardly behind Spencer now, looking up at your houseguests curiously, and waiting for them to speak.
"We brought you cookies," A blonde woman behind the man in the suit pipes up, hands decked out in jewelry as she brandishes a ziploc bag of treats, "And- and Morgan has medical tape he thinks you should use on your ankle, and JJ made a casserole, and we just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"I was going to offer to hire you a live-in nurse," An older man pipes up from the back, a suit jacket draped over his shoulders, glancing back at you with a small smirk, "But I'm not sure that's necessary."
"Thank you for the stuff." Spencer reaches out for the bag, keeping his crutch stabilized beneath his shoulder, "Y/N, can you- the casserole, um-"
"I got it," You jump forward to help, taking a dish from another blonde woman standing beside the first. The bottom is warmed, and she smiles kindly at you as she passes it off, nodding at your thnaks.
"Here's the tape," A man pipes up, muscles straining the t-shirt he's wearing as he sets a roll of medtape over the foil on the casserole. He grins at you, and the expression shifts more into a teasing one when he speaks to Spencer, "Sorry for interrupting."
"Oh, you weren't interrupting," You shake your head, "Are you- you're Spencer's coworkers, right?"
At their round of nods, you readjust your grip on the casserole, "Would you want to come eat with us? We could-"
"Our apartment is messy," Spencer cuts you off, hand already on the door to shut it on their shit-eating grins, "Thanks for the food, sorry you can't stay. See you tomorrow."
He shuts the door without offering them another word, and you gasp, "Spencer! That's rude, open the door!"
"They are relentless," Spencer locks it, heading towards you and backing you against the kitchen counter where you set the casserole, "If you let them in, they'll tease us both until our ears bleed, angel. They're not offended, and you can meet them some other time," He promises, kissing your forehead where you stand frowning at him, "When we're at someone else's house, and my ankle is healed so that we can run to the car and leave early when they lay into us."
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is it casual now?
Prompt: You and Eddie totally aren't dating, right?
Characters: Eddie Munson x Reader, brief mentions of Steve Harrington x Reader.
Word Count: ~5.5k
Author’s Note: Happy birthday @felteppsters
Playlist: Casual by Chappell Roan
Warnings: Smut & fluff.
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If you had a dollar for every time someone asked if you and The Freak were dating, you'd have made four dollars this week alone.
And it's only Tuesday.
You didn't go out of your way to spend time with Eddie Munson, and he never once asked if you wanted to hang out outside of school, but somehow you always managed to find yourself getting fingered in the back of his van in the parking lot during study hall. And he was known to drop a note in your locker on occasion asking you to meet him in that one bathroom that no one ever used for a quickie during lunch.
But that was neither here nor there.
The point was that people were beginning to notice.
It wasn't a bad thing. It's not like dating Eddie would ruin your reputation- despite what some people would say. It was just that when people asked if you and Eddie were dating, you didn't know how to answer because you, yourself, were not exactly sure what that answer was.
So you just said no, and you probably said it a little too defensively.
Does hooking up occasionally count as dating? No. In order to be dating someone you had to at least go out on an actual date, right? The night he took you to his trailer to 'fuck you in a real bed' and ordered pizza delivery didn't count, either, no matter how long you cuddled with him afterwards.
"I heard a rumor," it was Robin. She fell in step with you as you both exited fourth-period Algebra and headed toward the cafeteria. "And I just need a little bit of clarification, so forgive me if what I'm about to ask is-"
"I swear to God, Robin, if you're about to ask me if I'm dating Eddie Munson," you held up your hand and cut her off, stopping short in the middle of the hallway; your boots scuffing the speckled white tile floor, causing a slight traffic jam of bodies.
"What!?" She gasped. Either she was a really great actress or she genuinely hadn't heard. "There's a rumor going around that you're dating Eddie Munson?"
"No?" you deflected and picked up the pace. "What did you hear?"
"That you're dating Eddie Munson." With that, your face fell and she pulled her lips between her teeth to keep herself from laughing. "Well, is it true? Because Maria Fuentes heard from Charlie Dawson that Tina saw you guys in the parking lot last Friday and she did not hold back on the details."
"First of all," you said stopping at your locker. "I feel violated."
"Well, you were, you know-" Robin held up her fingers and made a lewd gesture causing you to cringe.
"Second of all-" You began again, only to be cut off by a folded piece of paper falling from your locker to the floor as you opened the flimsy, metal door. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as Robin quickly bent down and snatched the note from under you before you had the chance.
"You were saying?" She asked, a playful smirk pulling at her lips as she dodged every one of your attempts to take the note back from her. "Meet me. You know where. Signed, E.M." She read aloud. "Oh, look, there's even a little heart. That is so cute!"
"Second of all," you repeated after you had snatched the crumpled paper from her hands. "We are not dating."
Eddie's lips were on yours the moment the bathroom door closed behind you; before you were even able to flip the lock. You hadn't seen him since last Friday, and you could easily tell that he had gotten needy over the weekend. You wanted to enjoy the moment, but all that you could think about was this rumor.
He took a few steps forwards, pushing you back to the double sink until you were sitting on the counter; pushing himself between your legs, his hands falling to your sides, fingertips digging into your flesh. His lips were everywhere, biting and sucking hungrily as he squeezed every inch of your body he could get his hands on.
You placed your palm firmly on his chest and lightly pushed him away from you. He took a step back and you took in his appearance; tight denim jeans, a flannel wrapped around his hips, t-shirt just slightly messy enough to reveal a scruffy happy trail below his navel. His jeans were especially tight in the crotch, and his eyes were dark with desperation as he returned your gaze. He ducked his head to meet your lips once again, but you turned your head and ensured his lips fell to your cheek instead.
"Something's definitely up with you," he said softly as he placed another kiss on your temple.
He looked so good and made you feel so good, you just wanted to pull him back down to you and fuck him in this bathroom for the umpteenth time, but you couldn't. He stepped back and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket; looking so cool as he placed one between his lips and took a long drag, sending smoke billowing around the tiny room.
"You haven't heard?" You asked. He shrugged. "Someone saw us Friday in your van and now the entire school thinks we're dating."
"Oh," he let our a sarcastic chuckle. "And that's a problem for you, I guess? Can't be seen with the freak, right?"
"No," you rolled your eyes at the fact that he would even suggest that. "I just didn't know if- are we?"
He shrugs again, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I thought it was just casual."
"Casual?" You ask, and he nods. "Okay, well, I have to go. My next class is all the way on the other side of the building and I don't want to be late."
He can tell by your tone that you're upset.
"What do you want me to say?" He asks, making one last attempt to make you stay as you pick up your book bag from the floor.
"Nothing."
"You're pissed," he actually reached for you this time, but you shrugged him off.
"No," you replied. "I'm just-" you paused for a moment looking for the right words. "I'm casual." He winced. "Have a good day, Eddie."
You wanted to slam the door in his face, but it wasn't that type of door, so you opted for storming off loudly. As you rounded the corner you knocked shoulders with some girl from the Cheerleading squad who yelled at you to watch where you were going, but you didn't care to respond. Your legs were carrying you as quickly as they could without breaking into a full sprint down the halls of Hawkins High.
It wasn't a lie when you stated that your next class was on the other side of the school. You were sweating by the time you reached your desk. Robin had gotten there first, slumped back in her assigned seat with a smirk on her face as you sat down, trying to catch your breath.
"Long commute?" She asked, her voice laced with sarcasm.
"Shut the hell up, Buckley." You snapped.
"Uh oh," she held her hands up in defense. "Must be some trouble in paradise."
"I told you earlier, Eddie and I are not dating."
"Roger that."
The last bell couldn't come soon enough. All that you wanted to do was get home and get into bed- and preferably cry into a bowl of ice cream. You'd have never imagined yourself crying over the likes of Eddie Munson, but the thought of losing whatever it was that you had with him was upsetting.
He was your friend, after all. You had a lot in common with him. He could make you laugh and there was no shortage of conversation when you were around him. He was always getting shit from his friends, but you loved the fact that he never shut the hell up. And when there wasn't a conversation to be had, there was always music; whether it was his long list of cassette tapes or him strumming away on his guitar, there was never a dull moment.
And here you were ruining it over a label.
Robin held the door open for you as you both stepped out into the warm summer weather. Waves of students began lining up in the parking lot for their respective busses, but you typically walked home when the weather was nice.
"So since you're not dating Eddie Munson," Robin began and you couldn't help but roll your eyes so hard that it almost gave you a headache. "I was wondering if you might want to go on a double date with Vickie and myself?"
"A double date typically involves two couples."
"Right, you're absolutely right." Robin was stuttering. "I have this friend and he is also single. Problem solved."
"Steve?"
"Yeah."
"No."
"Wh- Why?"
"Because I have nothing in common with Steve and Steve is a prick," you replied bluntly.
Robin rolled her eyes. "He's actually not, like, at all. Besides, I talk about you all the time to him and he said that he would really like to meet you."
"He must have forgotten that he spent the majority of my freshman and sophomore year bullying me with Tommy H and Carole," you muttered under your breath.
Your friend reached out and grabbed you by the shoulder, stopping you in place and spinning you around to face her. A sigh escaped your lips as you looked her in the eye.
"That was a long time ago. I wasn't a huge fan of him when I first met him, either." She gave you a lopsided smile and you found her attempts to win her friend a date with you amusing. "I promise you that it's worth a shot. So, if you change your mind, we're going roller skating on Saturday night."
"You rollerskating?" You laughed and heard a car honk a few times as it pulled up.
"You're so funny!" She stated sarcastically.
Steve gave you a derpy smile as he rolled the passenger side window down. He was wearing his Family Video vest. "Good afternoon, ladies." He called out smoothly, you returned with a small wave.
"Sleep on it?" Robin asked as she opened the door to Steve's car.
"Fine," you rolled your eyes. "I'll think about it."
Robin smiled as she ducked into the passenger seat and closed the door behind her. "I'll see you tomorrow!"
Saturday came sooner than expected, and you had to admit that you were nervous. If someone had told you a year ago that you'd be going on a date with Steve Harrington, you'd probably punch them in the throat. Hell, if someone told you that a week ago, you'd still be swinging.
You had avoided Eddie at all costs throughout the rest of the week. Though, you'd be lying if you said that you weren't a little disappointed there were no notes left in your locker, or that he didn't find some way to talk to you after you left him standing in that bathroom Tuesday afternoon. You even waited up some nights hoping for a phone call or a pebble on the window, but none came.
It took over an hour and half to pick an outfit. Almost every article of clothing you owned was crumpled on the floor or tossed on the bed as you tried on a dozen different outfit combinations. It was the roller rink, so you wanted to be comfortable, but it was technically a date, so you also wanted to at least seem like you tried. Finally, as the clock ticked closer to seven, you decided on jeans, an off-shoulder top, and your Converse. You really didn't care to impress Steve Harrington; you didn't care in freshman and sophomore year and you certainly didn't now.
"I thought you said you had a date," your mother mentioned as you stepped into the living room. She was on the couch watching Who's The Boss, a jar of mixed nuts in her lap.
"I am," you replied as you shrugged into your denim jacket. She looked you up and down and you rolled your eyes. "We're going rollerskating; comfort was the priority!"
The distant sound of a car horn honking interrupted the conversation, prompting you to glance out the front door. Steve, acting as the evening's chauffeur, awaited with Robin and Vickie in the backseat.
"Don't be out too late," your mother muttered between mouthfuls of peanuts. "But enjoy yourself."
As the heavy glass door swung open, a wave of familiar sounds and vibrant colors enveloped your senses. The Rollerdome was typically busy on a Saturday night, but tonight it seemed everyone in Hawkins had the same idea to go skating. The neon lights that adorned the rink's interior created a kaleidoscope of vivid hues; fluorescent pinks, electric blues, and neon greens adorned the walls, blending with the glow of disco balls suspended from the ceiling. Upbeat pop music and the thud of roller skates on the smooth, wooden floors flooded your ears as Robin and Steve bickered over which table to claim for the evening.
"I vote this one," Robin declared with unwavering confidence, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "That way, we've got front-row seats to all the wipeouts!"
"That is the exact reason why no one sits at this table, Robin," Steve countered with exasperation. "Everyone knows that the floor is slick there and when someone takes a spill, it's usually right into the table." He pauses before looking at you. "Bye-bye chili dogs."
You can't help but suppress a small smile, "I think it's perfect. If there's a chance one of those uppity assholes comes flying face first into our table, it'll be the highlight of my entire year."
"Can't argue with that logic," Steve added quickly. "Good choice, Robin."
She rolled her eyes and dragged Vickie off towards the rental counter. You casually tossed your bag on the top of the table; a clear marker that it was claimed. Steve removed his jacket and placed it next to your bag before running a hand through his thick, dark hair. It was clear that he was nervous as his eyes darted around the roller rink. He definitely didn't give off the same 'King Steve' aura that you remembered so well.
Maybe you'd give him a chance.
Just kidding.
You turned on your heel and walked off towards the snack bar, drawn in by the delicious aroma of extra cheese pizza and buttered popcorn, leaving Steve scrambling to catch up with your determined stride. Robin wanted a pretzel and a Coke slushy while Vickie had asked for cheese fries and an orange soda. You wanted nachos but agreed when Steve ordered to split a pizza, doing his best to impress you as he paid for everyone, but instead, all he got out of you was a slight eye roll. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Vickie lead a wobbly Robin out onto the rink. A chuckle escaped your lips as you witnessed their valiant attempts to navigate the rink without falling prey to the more seasoned skaters.
"So what are you into?" Steve asked as he filled up his drink at the fountain machine. "What do you like?"
"Uh," you weren't really sure what to say. You still couldn't really get past the fact that Steve Harrington was trying to have a conversation with you. "I like music."
"Yeah?" He asked. "I like music."
"Cool."
"This is a good song," he replied and pointed awkwardly to the overhead speakers while Another One Bites The Dust by Queen played loudly.
You couldn't help but think of the irony and did your best to suppress a laugh before Steve got the impression that you thought he was funny. Oh, how this date was failing epically; which you were already anticipating, so at least you hadn't gotten your hopes up about it. Steve was almost trying too hard to force a spark between the two of you, but without Robin around- which was often because she was too busy flailing about on her skates while Vickie tried her hardest to keep her from falling- it was absolutely boring.
At least the two of them seemed to be having a good time.
As the night continued on, you found yourself gradually shedding the initial reserve that had clung to you like a second skin. The pulsating rhythm of the music, the laughter of your friends, and the infectious joy of gliding across the smooth floor started to work its magic. A genuine smile tugged at the corners of your lips as Steve, Vickie, and Robin circled the rink alongside you, sharing jokes and banter.
"I need something to drink!" You yelled over the music at your friends before carefully exiting the floor onto the carpet.
Steve exited with you, gliding up to the table with ease; moving around you to the music, dancing on his skates. The hesitant glances you'd given him earlier transformed into playful exchanges, and you couldn't help but admit that his efforts to charm you had slowly but surely begun to work.
As Robin and Vickie continued to skate around the rink, something caught your eyes in the corner; a familiar, curly head of brown hair in the back towards the arcade. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his brown eyes pinned to you as his friends huddled around one of the pinball machines.
You smirked softly as the music changed. In the background you could hear Steve talking, but you were too busy having a staring contest with Eddie from across the room.
"So what d'ya say?" Steve asked.
"What?" You asked, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from Eddie.
"It's a slow song," he mentioned. You could see a blush creeping to his cheeks. "Did you want to couple's skate?"
You agreed, allowing Steve to take your hand and lead you out onto the rink. It was wrong of you to use Steve in the way that you were, especially since you were just starting to like him. But the satisfaction that you felt seeing Eddie roll his eyes as you and your date skated by was too good to pass up. And yes, you faked the giggles and latched on to Steve's arm a little more with each time you passed Eddie, really twisting that knife as much as you could.
But hey, it was just "casual" right?
As the song came to a close and Steve led you by the hand back to your table. You couldn't help yourself but to glance back to the corner of the rink towards the arcade, only to see Eddie push himself off of the wall and stomp off towards the exit.
"I'll be right back," you called over to Steve as the song ended. "I need to get some fresh air."
"I'll come with!" Steve offered but you placed a hand on his arm to stop him before he could unlace his skates.
"I'll be okay," you assured him with a sweet smile. "I'll be right back."
Hurriedly, you unlaced your skates and shoved your feet into your worn-down tennis shoes before chasing after Eddie. The summer air was still very humid as you stepped out of the cool air conditioning and into the parking lot. The sunset was barely lingering on the horizon and the sky was a mixture of periwinkle and orange. To your right, you could see Eddie walking away from you and towards his van.
"Hey!" You called to him. He turned around to see it was you and threw his head back dramatically before turning back to his van. "What is your problem?"
"Steve Harrington, really?" He spat, turning to you once again.
"Oh, come off it!" You replied, closing the gap between you. "Jealousy does not suit you, babe."
"Steve fucking Harrington?" He asked again. "I mean what do you even talk about with that guy? Different variations of the color beige?"
"At least he can stand to be seen with me in public!"
You were standing toe-to-toe with him now, chests heaving. His eyes squinted as he stared down at you.
"You want to be seen in public?" He asked. "Careful what you ask for, princess."
Before you could protest, his hands were on your shoulders, maneuvering you to his van; walking you backward until your back was pressed up against the side door. "Hopefully Harrington will wander out here looking for you." He reached a hand behind you, swinging the door open, and pushed you in. "He gives me the impression of someone who likes to watch."
Eddie crawled into the van after you, leaving the door open, not caring who saw or heard. His lips were on yours in an instant. You moaned as he ducked his head into your neck, working your nerves as he popped the button on your jeans. He didn't even care to pull them all the way off, or your shoes for that matter. As soon as he had pulled your pants down far enough to expose your pussy to him, he held your legs over his head and began thumbing your clit; spreading a slick coat of wetness along your swollen lips. He lifted you up, throwing your legs over his shoulder as his tongue hungrily delved into your core.
You gasped in surprise, hands flying to his hair, wrapping around the thick of his roots. You could hear him fumbling with his belt buckle as his tongue worked your dripping folds. Once he had freed his girthy cock, he lowered you down, still holding your legs over his shoulders with his arms now snaked around your thighs as he lined himself up with your core.
Without warning, he shoved his cock into the deepest part of you, feeling you tighten and loosen around his length. You moaned loudly, forgetting that the side door to his van was still wide open.
"Should I send you back to King Steve filled with my cum?" He grunted as he thrusted against you. "Let him hold your hand as you feel me dripping into those cute, little panties?"
Your eyes rolled back as he continued to pump into you.
"Look at you," he whimpered, so close already to finding his own release. He dragged his thumb across your bottom lip and you took his digit into you mouth. "Fuck!"
You could feel his cock pulsing against your walls as he filled you with warm ribbons of his cum. Eddie crashed on top of you, his face buried in your neck as he tried to catch his breath. Your hands moved to his shoulders, pushing him off of you with a sigh. You were already pulling your jeans up over your hips and fixing your shirt.
"What is it now?" He asked.
"It's nothing, Eddie." You replied.
"Oh, it's something."
You said nothing and stood up out of his van. Half of you wanted to just walk away and leave him there, like you had on Tuesday, but you couldn't do that again. You were miserable after the first time you did that- so miserable that you agreed to go on a date with Steve Harrington, of all people. This time you turned to him, looking him dead in the eye as you tried to find the right words.
"I'm not just some easy girl, Eddie." You spat at him. "I allowed you to fuck me in the parking lot, and in the bathroom, and in the auditorium that one time because I like you. I guess- I just thought that you liked me, too. I thought I was more than just some girl that you go down on in the passenger seat of your van, but I was wrong."
He opened his mouth to say something, but you held your hand up to stop him, wanting to get it all out.
"You just want sex," you continued. "You don't want to date me, you don't want me to be your girlfriend, you just want something casual, and I'm not that."
"What are you, then?" He asked.
"Leaving."
He said nothing as he watched you turn away, leaving him completely dumbfounded. For once, you felt like you had the upper-hand in this game the two of you had been playing for months now.
The walk from Eddie's van to the front doors of the Rollerdome felt like miles as the gravel of the pavement crackled beneath your feet with each step. You half expected him to run after you, take you in his arms, and confess his love for you, but you were met with nothing but silence. With a final glance over your shoulder, you reentered the roller rink, leaving Eddie to grapple with the unspoken complexities that lingered in the warm, Summer air.
The electric energy of the rink greeted you, once again; a stark contrast to the mood you had created in the parking lot. You didn't want to be here any longer and decided upon re-entry that you were just going to go home. Robin, Vickie, and Steve were all huddled around the table as another slow ballad played loudly through the speakers.
"There you are!" Robin greeted with a lukewarm slice of pizza in her hand. She took immediate notice of your changed demeanor and asked, "is everything okay?"
"No," you replied quickly as you grabbed your jacket. "I think I am just going to go home."
"Home?" Robin asked. "Now?" She stood up and pulled you over to the side away from Steve and Vickie. "Does this have anything to do with Eddie? I saw you running out after him earlier."
"Just forget it, Robin, okay?" You sighed as you turned towards her. You looked over her shoulder to see Steve and Vickie watching you. You lowered your voice, "It's over, okay? Yes, I'm upset about it and I hate that I'm upset about it. I wasn't expecting to actually like him."
Robin sighed, "I didn't realize it was like that, I'm sorry."
You shrug your shoulders and shove your hands in your jacket pockets. "It's fine, I'll get over it."
She gave you a half smile, "can we at least give you a ride. I'm sure Steve won't mind driving."
"I'm just going to walk," you muttered. "It's not far."
"Alright, catch you on Monday! Last week of senior year!" She exclaimed and raised her hands, mimicking pompoms for added flair. She outstretched her arms and wrapped them around you and provided a tight squeeze.
"Can't wait," you groaned unenthusiastically.
Monday came and went and before you knew it, the final bell of Friday rang throughout those hideous green and gold hallways as a sea of graduates congregated in the gym; tossing their shimmering green caps into the air, signaling the beginning of the rest of your lives. In one hand, your diploma and in the other, your yearbook filled with well-wishes and promises to keep in touch-- most of which you hoped would forever be unkept.
Robin found you outside in the courtyard after she had managed to escape her parents.
"Here's to the first summer of the rest of our lives," she said breathlessly. "Steve and I are going to the mall if you want to come, spend some of this graduation cash from my grandparents."
"I'm okay," you smiled at her. "Raincheck?"
"If you say so," she rolled her eyes. "Where are your folks?"
"My dad had a little too many of those little sandwiches they were giving out," you made a face. "Mom had to take him home early."
"I'm sure my parents could give you a ride home, if you wanted," she said with a soft smile.
Over her shoulder you watched as Eddie, still draped in his cap and gown, rushed off towards the back of the parking lot. "That's okay, I have a ride," you replied with a smirk.
You gave her a hug and slipped away; turning on your heel and escaping the crowd through the parking lot. As the cars grew thin, you noticed a familiar white van in the back, parked in its usual spot. The side door was open and Eddie was sitting in the back; a cigarette in between his lips and his guitar in his lap. His diploma was tossed up on the dashboard, and his cap and gown were tossed in the passenger seat.
He strummed skillfully as you walked up the side of his van. His eyes were lulled shut and his head was titled back on the headrest. He hummed softly and your lips couldn't help turning into a smile. He was so undeniably perfect and he didn't even know it.
"Is that new?" You had been hanging out with Eddie long enough now to know his songs by heart. He always asked your opinion on his songwriting.
His eyes fluttered open, but his fingers continued strumming. You could see his gaze taking you in as you effortlessly leaned against the passenger door. He shrugged lazily and tilted his head back once again, staring up at the scuffed metal ceiling of his van.
"I was feeling inspired," he finally replied as he exhaled smoke out of the corner of his mouth. "It's about a terrible, evil temptress who collects the souls of the men of the realm." You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Until one day, she meets a kind and handsome young man who doesn't have a soul to give. So instead, he gives her his heart."
"Sounds a bit dramatic," you replied as you tried to hide the smile creeping to your lips, once more.
"I was thinking about the other night," his fingers stopped strumming as he reached up to pull the cigarette from his lips. He exhaled another cloud of smoke.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, see," he took another drag from his smoke. "I do like you and I do want you to be my girlfriend, always have."
You threw up your hands, "It's hard for me to believe that, Eddie! We fuck nearly every day but you can't take me out on one date? How am I supposed to believe that you want me to be your girlfriend if you can't even respect me enough to take me out!?"
"We have too gone on dates! I bought you pizza that one time!" He exclaimed as he set his guitar back down in the case and snapped it shut. "And we watched your favorite movie!"
"We watched Troll," you deadpanned.
"Yeah, we did," he replied as he stood up out of the van. He towered over you as he stood up straight. "And after it was over you said that it was your new favorite movie."
"I was being SARCASTIC!"
"God damnit!" He spat right back.
"You took me back to your trailer because you were tired of fucking me in this van!" His jaw dropped at the accusation. "And the only reason you ordered pizza was because there was nothing else to eat and you struggle to even microwave a frozen TV dinner!"
His hand flew over his chest as he gasped. "You really are an evil and terrible temptress! Your words are venomous!"
You sighed, "Tell me honestly... is there something wrong with me?"
"You think there's something wrong with you?" Eddie asks, a small laugh escaping his perfect lips. He shakes his head and moves his hands up your arms to your shoulders, looking at your straight on. "Sweetheart, you're perfect."
A blush creeps to your cheeks and you can practically feel yourself melting in his hands.
"You're perfect, like, way too good for me," he continued, a bashful grin playing on his lips. "I should've said it before, a million times."
"You think?" You asked.
"Let's just start over, okay?" He pleaded and jutted his hand out to you as if he was asking for a handshake. "Hi, I'm Eddie. Will you be my girlfriend?"
You narrowed your eyes as you glanced down at his hand, pursing your lips in a futile attempt to suppress a smile. Fuck, you hated how goddamn charming he was. Giving up fully to him, you accepted his hand. Though, before you could utter a single word, he pulled you in for a lingering kiss that left you breathless.
"Say yes," he whispered as he pulled away, his lips hovering just above yours.
"Yes," you whispered as you look up into his dark brown eyes.
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signedkoko · 3 months
Note
Hello Koko! I Hope you had a good day/night, and that you are doing well and not overworking yourself:)
I think I saw that you didn’t have requests at the moment but that they were open so here a little request for headcanon/oneshot with Vox, Alastor and Angel dust separately with overlord gn!reader? (If you don’t take 3 at a time maybe only Vox & Alastor?)
They Thinks s/o is sweet, like they’re always smiling and being kind of everyone most of the time, they can’t believe they would even be able to hurt a fly even if they’re an overlord
but then they get told she just unalived her colleague (they were both leaders of the entreprise) because she wanted to be in full possession of their entreprise, maybe they owned a model enterprise or were music producers (like they were the one selling every musics in hell or sum like that?) how do they react?
(Really sorry if it’s unclear or if something is wrong, thanks for reading my request!)
-🐚
Alastor | Vox [Romantic]
In which you are their sweet little overlord who'd never be cruel! ...Or so they thought. Reader is genderneutral.
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Your company was your baby, your castle, your absolute everything
And for the longest time, you'd always shared it with the co-founder
They had a lovely personality but worked behind the scenes for the most part while you acted on the main stage
Hell, you'd even introduced them to your otherworldly partner, Alastor, and had only told him of the good
So it was in fact quite a surprise when you turned up home with bloody hands and the most joyous smile on your face, almost as wide as your wedding day
That in itself wasn't out of the norm; you were an overlord after all! Alastor knew you could handle yourself, as much as you opted to ignore it
" Oh Al, I have great news! "
" Do tell, my dear! "
When you explained that the company was all yours, he was quick to catch on
Now that, that managed to surprise him
" I really thought you loved the gal! "
Even more surprising is how you'd managed to hide your true feelings from him for so long; he was sure he could have sniffed out your malice
But you were just that good at hiding it
He probably makes a joke about how you could be plotting his murder as we speak
" Maybe! "
His smile falters a slight bit
But you don't notice
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By Vox's own request, your enterprise was kept unattached from his own; merely partners
This was because it meant better publicity if two companies got along so well, but also because he didn't want you to be overcome with the demands of his two co-founders
Yeah, Velvette and Valentino pissed him off to double hell and back, but he considered them friends
A few times, the V's and you and your co-founder would host lavish dinner parties, discussing economic growth and working together on projects
You never seemed to shy away from introducing your partner in industry, and as far as Vox could tell, you were as close as friends could be before anything got steamy
You were just the friendliest person he'd ever met; the number of fans you had showed that, but you'd even gotten favour from the other two V's with little effort on your behalf
So, of course, he was stunned when you called him in the middle of work
" You know you're the first to hear all my company news; I am now the sole owner! "
He could hear you smile through the phone, which almost scared him, and soon your phone was fizzling as he travelled through it
The first thing he noticed was that you were both standing in a puddle
A red puddle
Fuck
Ok
" Thats great and all, but lets get you out of here, and maybe—yeah, maybe we can call in a cleanup crew. "
He is your number one PR team; your overtaking of the company is seen as 'heroic' because you ' fought against a corrupt co-founder'
It surprises him, but he's almost proud of you; you are crazy strong and crazy capable
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Author's Note - I do accept up to three characters for headcanons, but as per my FAQ I don't write Angel! Either way, welcome to the blog (again) shell/conch anon! Your idea is very lovely 🖤
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holylulusworld · 3 months
Text
A different kind of Valentine
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Summary: Your fiancé breaks your heart on Valentine’s Day out of all days.
Pairing: former!(any male character) x fem!Reader, Mafia!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, break-up, mentions/implied cheating, making out with a stranger, language, drinking, tipsy reader, a little fluff
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Promises shouldn’t be broken.
Promises are meant to be kept. Right?
Love should be strong and unbreakable. If you swear to someone that you love and adore them, you cannot take it back so easily.
How could your fiancé take the words he whispered lovingly not months ago back?
“I can’t do this anymore,” he replied coolly when you asked why his suitcases were standing in the hallways. You believed he must go on yet another business trip.
That he wants to leave you never crossed your mind.
How foolish of you to believe that he wants to stay and keep his promises.
Shell-shocked you watched him grab your hand to slide his grandmother’s ring off of your finger.
You couldn’t think, speak, or even whimper. All you saw was the man you loved turn his back on you.
He stuffed the ring into his pocket, murmuring someone else’s name under his breath. You knew the name. Once in a while, he mentioned his assistant.
Of course, he had to turn your breakup into a cliché. He had to bang his secretary and leave you for a younger model.
If not for the tears running down your face, and the heaviness in your heart, you’d laugh at the fucked-up situation. It felt like you ended up in a bad rom-com slash comedy movie. The only difference was people weren’t laughing at the bad joke your life turned into.
“You can’t be serious,” oh, you finally found your voice. “Why are you doing this? Did you get bored? Is it the wedding? We could’ve talked things out.”
“That’s not it.” He grunted in your direction.
“Is she prettier? Better in bed,” you got angrier and louder. “Does she like it up her ass? Is it that?” You threw the next best things at him, making a scene. “What is it? Huh? Is her cunt squeezing your tighter?”
“You’re just not it!” He bit back and threw his hands up in surrender. “Can you not do this right now? How about you don’t throw a tantrum? People break up all the time!”
“Five years and that’s all I get?” You yelled. “I deserve better than a lame excuse! I want to know what happened to us!”
“I love her because I don’t love you anymore!” He yelled back, making you flinch at his outburst. “It’s not only that the sex is better. She’s all I ever wanted in a woman. You got too comfortable and want to cuddle on the sofa instead of going out and blowing me off behind a bar.”
“What?” You huffed. “I was the one trying to drag you off the couch! You only ever went out with your buddies.” He ignored your tears, and that your voice cracked. “I guess this never mattered. You had to fulfill the cliché. So, go ahead. We will see if she can make you happy.”
You stormed toward the door, blindly grabbing your keys and phone. It was impossible to stand there, staring at the gifts you placed on the coffee table in the living room.
“If you are still here when I come back, I’ll stab you right in the face,” you looked over your shoulder at the man who used to be your moon and stars. “If you touch my shit, you are a dead man. I will find you and your whore and turn you into dog food.”
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“Another one,” you slammed the glass down onto the bar counter. “Make it a double.” You placed fifty bucks onto the empty glass. “No, give me the bottle. I think I’ll drink it at home.”
“We don’t sell the bottle for you to take it home,” the bartender gruffly replied.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You glared at the burly guy. “I can drink the whole bottle at the bar, but I can’t pay for it and take it home?” Quirking a brow, you look at the man.
“House rules.”
“Fuck this,” you grabbed the fifty bucks and stuffed the money into your bra. “I’ll get more at the next liquor store. Fuck you, and all of you.”
“All of us?” The bartender asked with amusement.
Storming out of the bar you huffed again. “Fuck Valentine’s Day.” You muttered and walked away, almost running a guy over.
You glared at him and bared your teeth.
“Assholes with a ding-dong between their legs. You are all the same. Useless and worthless…”
“Hey, watch your step, doll,” the guy snickered when you threw your clutch at him. “Ouch, what do you think you are doing?” The man caught your clutch just in time.
“Fuck you too!” You poked two fingers into his chest. “You are no better than the bartender and my lovely fiancé. All of you are useless and have a limp dick. No man is worth my time.”
You snatched the clutch out of the man’s hands. “Language, lady,” he said, his voice now dangerously low. “If you don’t watch your tongue, someone might teach you some manners.”
“Oh, and you are that kind of man,” you slapped him across the face with your clutch. “Who do you think you are?” Usually, you wouldn’t attack a stranger in the dead of the night, but you were a little tipsy, and still mad because of the events of the day. “Threatening a woman.”
“Sweet cheeks,” he said while rubbing his face. It was still red from the slap, and he considered his next step. “I wouldn’t dare to raise my hand against you.” The man stepped closer to grab your clutch. “I said���” He grabbed you by your throat and slammed you against the wall, “I’ll teach you a lesson.”
“I’ll scream,” you began to race. Maybe you messed with the wrong guy. “Get off me.”
“Yeah, you will scream,” he smirked darkly and leaned closer to whisper in your ear. “I’ll make you scream my name, doll. So, what will it be? Do you want me to make you scream, or do you want me to make you whimper my name?”
“That’s not a choice!” You complained. “I have had enough of selfish men believing they can toy with me and my heart. I’ll cut yours out if you dare to touch me.”
“A cocky one,” he dropped his hand from your throat and pressed his hand against the wall, right next to your head. “Tell me, doll. Who hurt such a sweet girl?” He looked you up and down, hungrily roaming your body with his eyes.
“He—” You looked away and blinked a few times. “You’re not my therapist, and I’m not your problem.”
“You made it my problem when you attacked me because a douchebag hurt you. So, again. Who hurt you, doll?”
God, he smelled so good, and his lips tenderly pressed against your earlobe. You didn’t know what got into you, but you grasped for the stranger, taking him by supposed when you pressed your lips to his.
His hands grabbed your face, gently cradling it while he allowed you to dominate the kiss. “Doll,” he murmured against your lips. “You’re a little drunk, huh?”
“Make me forget about him,” you pleaded and fisted his jacket. “Here and now. Come on. Don’t be all talk.”
“I’d love to make you scream my name.” He pecked your lips twice. “I love me a crazy girl hitting me at first sight but, I won’t take advantage of you. You’re hurt, drunk, and a little lost. Let me take you home.”
“I don’t even know your name,” you gasped and stepped back. “I just kissed a stranger and asked him to fuck me. What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing is wrong with you, doll,” his features softened. “It’s alright. I’m a nice guy.” He smirked and laughed as you stepped back again. “My name is Bucky, okay. I’ll take you home if you want me to. Or I could call a cab for you.”
“Y/N,” you murmured your name, embarrassed about your actions. “Sorry. I didn’t want to attack you…or kiss you…or ask you to fuck me.”
“Y/N,” Bucky hummed. “A very nice name.” He said. “For an even nicer woman.” Holding out his hand Bucky waited for you to take it. “I won’t bite, promised.”
“Maybe I like it when you bite me,” you challenged him.
“Let’s stick to getting the alcohol out of your system,” Bucky wrapped his arm around your shoulders when you didn’t take his hand. “Doll, you shouldn’t stay here. We started on the wrong foot, but I’m not a bad guy.”
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“What the shit!” You exclaimed loudly while you looked around your apartment. “That bastard had the guts to unpack the gifts I got him before leaving our home to bang that bitch.”
“Hmm…that him?” Bucky lifted one of your picture frames. “He looks like a douchebag. I was right.”
“Why did you come with me again?” You glanced over your shoulder at the stranger in your home. “I’m good. Really.”
“I won’t leave a pretty dame in need alone on Valentine’s Day,” Bucky said. “Not after that man left you for some other woman.”
“I’m fine,” you lied. “Just…mad.” You shrugged. “I had the whole day planned; you know. Dinner at our favorite restaurant, the perfect gift, and naughty underwear to…” You shook your head.
“His loss,” Bucky shrugged while looking at one of the gift bags on the table. “It should’ve been him making big plans for Valentine’s Day. If you love your lady, you spoil her.”
“He found someone prettier and sexier,” you sniffled. “He told me so. The man I loved fell in love with his secretary because he doesn’t love me anymore.”
“Again, his loss,” he stepped closer to look inside the gift bag, taking the lingerie out. “Red lace, huh?”
“He liked red…” You snatched the underwear out of Bucky’s hands. “I wanted to turn him on. It’s been a while since he was interested in doing more than sleep in our bedroom.”
“I’d say white suits you more,” Bucky threw the lingerie over his shoulder. “How about you change into your favorite outfit, and I invite you for dinner. No strings attached, doll.”
“You want to take me out?” You questioned.
“Please let me take you out,” he stepped closer to grab your hand. “You deserve to spend this day with someone who cares.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“Yet,” he said. “Let me get to know you, please.”
You nodded and agreed to go out for dinner with Bucky. It was a risk, but one you were willing to take.
Valentine reloaded
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freyito · 7 months
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Can you do Smoke and Reptile, sfw, them burying their face in readers boobs, using them as a pillow and how they’d react to reader to reader doing it back to them? You could do somthing suggestive.
I'm curious also, besides Kenshi and Kuai Liang who else are you a fan of?
imma be honest anon, this is such a fire idea. when i was at this a7x concert me and my friend saw a guy with double ds. like. BODACIOUS bro. that was the first thing our eyes went to. he looked like jesus christ brother. he spoke like he had a message from the gods.
anyways. to answer your question. sentimentally i'm very attached to Kitana and Scorpion in general, i played Kitana when mk9 came out (i was 7, my dad let me play mk when i was SEVEN) and my dad played Scorpion and i always got my ass handed to me. but he worked a lot and playing mk9 was the only time we really got together when i was a kid. with mk1, we've been able to play a lot more together and it reminds me of those times, it's really fun. now i win about half the matches we play, but i just don't play Kitana anymore. i really do prefer Kenshi.
I am actually married to Johnny Cage and Kenshi, soooo Also, to be honest, the first characters to draw me into Mk1 were Smoke & Sub-Zero. Hadn't really been a big Sub-Zero fan beforehand, not of Bi-Han or Kuai Liang. So it was fun having that revelation. And Tomas is just super cute, I actually love that he's Czech. We're not the same, but hey, we're atleast both slavic. I dont know why, I just love finding Slavic characters cause more often then not I end up relating to them. Sorry for the monologue, anon. Here's your boob request :P
cw: gn reader cause everyone can have boobs brother, bonus character!, proofread
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"ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴘɪʟʟᴏᴡꜱ" || ᴛᴏᴍᴀꜱ & ꜱʏᴢᴏᴛʜ
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-Tomas Vrbada
Tomas loves nothing more at the end of the day than getting to bury his face in your chest. As long as you two are in private, he'll wiggle his way into you somehow.
Half the time you two have together, he's face down in your chest, it is a regular occurrence and will stay a regular occurrence.
Does he do anything other than that? No. He's planking. He's in love, man, you can't blame him.
So, when you find him laying on the bed that one fateful night, defenseless, you give him the same treatment. You climb onto the bed, and slink your way into his arms.
He reaches out for you absent-mindedly, running his hands through your hair. Then you strike. You plank right into HIS boobs. He hasn't even registered yet. But you understand why he does it to you. Even if you can't breathe, it's somehow euphoric.
Tomas pauses, looks down at you. And his face flushes. You can feel his body temperature rise. He doesn't know how to react, he's been caught in just an inconvenient situaton.
He doesn't complain, though. He's just flustered. Real flustered. He holds you close after he can find his composure, still unsure but grateful of your touch.
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-Syzoth
Syzoth almost always makes a dive for your chest when you two are cuddling. He'll be tangled up with you- quite literally, the man really enjoys being as close as possible- and still find a way to bury his head into your chest.
Doesn't matter how much you dodge out of it, he's going to wrap himself around you and find your chest somehow, someway.
But, he thinks he's free of this torment. He gets to lay his head in your chest, and run off freely. He does it when you two nap, when you cuddle, wherever, whenever.
You find him one night, after a long day and seize your chance. And your boyfriends boobies. Without a second chance you throw yourself at Syzoth, aiming directly for his chest.
You can see him realize in that moment what's happening. And you can see the exact look of 'awh fuck', almost as if in slow motion. And when you finally get to lay your head onto his sweet, sweet, pillows, he gives up right then and there.
Syzoth accepts the love, completely. He might act all pouty because you robbed him of his favorite thing to do, but secretly he loves it. You can almost hear him purr.
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-Bonus Points! Bi-Han
Bi-Han doesn't really find himself buried in your chest too often. Mainly because he feels like he's controlled for that. He's thought about it, but refuses to do it.
But let's be honest, how can you not shove your face in his tits? They're massive, H cups AT LEAST. So you stalk your boyfriend, until you can find a private moment between you two.
He doesn't know your game, but he does know you've been following him. He's not annoyed, he's simply confused as to why you won't directly approach him.
So, when you ambush him, he's only slightly prepared. You go straight for his boobs. And you land directly in between them. Silence washes over you two.
Bi-Han doesn't understand. Part of him doesn't want to. So he simply wraps his arms gently around your waist and pulls you closer. He kind of thinks you're in need of comfort.
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© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS
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kkvqwrites · 1 year
Text
Bedside Manner
Reader goes into labor while Simon's away and calls the first person she can think of. The task force (and some other friends in high places) rally around the couple on the most important day of their lives.
Word Count: 2,587
Characters (in order of appearance): fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Capt. John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kate Laswell
CW: childbirth, hospital setting, medical procedures
A/N: Am I a Ghost girlie? Absolutely. Am I also a sucker for the found family trope? Til I die. This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I'm so glad I stuck with it. I love the way this came out and hope you like it!
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"Dear? Everything okay?"
The captain's voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. Both he and Simon had drilled it into you to never hesitate to call Price if you needed anything while your husband was away, but you couldn't help feeling a bit guilty.
"Um, I think so," you began, willing your voice to stay level and upbeat. "I think I just - oof.." Another contraction hit, stealing the air from your lungs. They were coming more consistently now, and hard enough to stop you in your tracks.
This could not be happening.
"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" You could hear movement in the background, him gathering his things to be out the door and on his way to you.
"I'm fine, John. I just didn't know who else to call. I think the baby might be coming?" The words came out pinched as you worked through the tail end of the contraction. The captain swore loudly.
"Stay put, love. I'm on the way - everything will be alright. Want me to stay on the phone with you?"
"No, no, that's fine. Stay safe and I'll see you when you get here." You hung up before he could argue and fuss like a mother hen.
______________________________________________________________
The knock at the door startled you. You looked at the clock - surely that couldn't be John already. The man lived across town. Not trusting yourself to make it to the door, you called out.
"It's open!"
Turns out it wasn't Price, but Gaz, who stepped into your living room and began taking in the scene. It was a sight to be sure: you, doubled over sitting on your yoga ball, rocking back and forth to try to alleviate some of the pressure in your hips, towel around your neck because you were sweating like a pig, ambient white noise filtering through the bluetooth speaker to keep you calm. For all his usual swagger and poise, Gaz looked a bit frightened.
"Kyle, did John call you? I'm so sorry - I'm sure you were busy-"
"Not at all, I rushed over as soon as I got word." The sergeant came to your side and knelt until he was eye level. "The captain's on his way but I was closer. We didn't want you to be alone any longer than necessary."
"You and your task force are worse than a quilting circle." The jab came with a joking smile, but the smile was cut short by the stab of another contraction. At the sight of your face screwing up in pain, Kyle's eyes got big.
"Can I do something? Do you need anything?" He wrung his hands as he fussed, seemingly unsure whether to touch you or whether you'd bite him if he tried. Admittedly, you weren't too sure yourself.
"Need you to reset - the timer." The words came out through clenched teeth as your muscles tensed and screamed. "Contractions - need to time them."
"The timer - right." He sprung into action, undoubtedly happy to have a defined task to accomplish. As he was fiddling with the device, Price stormed through the door, his demeanor all-business.
"Gaz? What's the situation?" The sergeant hopped to attention as if he was at roll call.
"Got here not long ago myself, Cap. Just reset the timer for contractions."
"Where are we at?"
"Thirteen minutes, sir."
The captain turned to you, assessing you from top to bottom. His expression and his voice softened considerably as he spoke.
"Ready to get to the hospital, love?"
"Can't - they told me to wait until they're five minutes apart." The man looked bewildered.
"And just let you sit here and suffer? Not on my watch. Gaz, grab my keys - "
"John," you interrupted. "I already called. They won't admit me yet. We just need to wait it out."
"Nonsense, love. You wait til I get someone's ear over there. Five minutes my arse." He moved to help you stand, but stopped in his tracks as he took in your face, your lip trembling. "Is there something else?" As if on cue, a fat tear rolled down your cheek, the first of its kind since the pains began.
"This isn't supposed to be happening," you squeaked out. "Not for a few more weeks. Simon's supposed to be here."
The men shared a glance, looking stricken. Price leaned down next to you, a broad hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke, a renewed slowness replacing his prior rushed pace.
"I know, love. I know it's not ideal, and I know you're scared. I know Simon would give anything to be here, that he'd split heaven and earth to be with you right now. But I also know he'd want you and your little one taken care of, yeah? He wouldn't want you to wait."
You nodded, despite more tears threatening. "Doesn't change the fact they won't admit me yet."
The captain's mouth quirked defiantly. "You let me worry about that. Gaz, help her up. I'll drive."
______________________________________________________________
Simon was tired down to his bones, feeling like a wrung out rag after the most recent mission. Despite that, the man was a ball of energy as he hopped off the plane, desperate to get back to you.
"Someone's antsy," Soap drawled, taking a more leisurely pace. He slid his sunglasses on as Simon switched on his cell phone anxiously. "Got somewhere to be, LT?"
"'Matter of fact I do - home." Simon impatiently hiked his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "See my wife, eat a real meal. Finally build that godforsaken changing table. Who knew a baby needs so much furniture?"
Soap barked a laugh, but Simon tuned him out as he put his phone to his ear. He'd gotten a voicemail from you, and everything else ceased to matter.
"Hey babe, it's me. I'm not sure when you'll get this, and I hate to worry you. I'm sure it's fine. It's just... I've been feeling some contractions-"
Simon didn't hear the rest, nearly dropping his phone as he broke into a run.
______________________________________________________________
True to his word, Price argued with the hospital staff until you were taken up to a room. You were sure he must have pulled rank, threatened to call people, but he refused to let you worry about it.
The ride had been smooth, despite John driving like a bat out of hell. Gaz stayed in the back seat with you, clinging to your hand and fussing. Later, you'd think it was funny how he seemed to need more encouragement and support than he offered, but at that moment very little was funny.
You had been able to stay in denial for an admirably long time. The past few days, you were able to tell yourself it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, not the real thing. That even when it became evident the real thing was starting, that it wouldn't progress quickly. That even though it was progressing, that Simon would walk in the door just at the right moment and sweep you into the car and off to the hospital and all would be well. Even when your gut told you to pick up the phone and call the captain, you had managed to make yourself believe that you were wrong, that it was a false alarm, that you still had more time.
Now, here you were, connected to monitors and being poked and prodded by nurses. Medical history, allergies, birth plan, you felt like you were in interrogation rather than a patient receiving care. And if it wasn't the nurses it was the two men standing off to the side, one wringing his hands in worry and one watching the nurses like a hawk and barking questions. The contractions were closer to eight minutes apart now, progressing quickly. Now the situation was very real, and as thankful as you were from the support from Price and Gaz, your heart threatened to shatter at the absence of the one person who mattered most.
______________________________________________________________
"Bloody fuckin' hell, no one will answer their phone!" Ghost barked, ready to throw his out the window. He'd had radio silence other than a second voicemail, this one from the Captain:
"Simon, Price here. Just got word from the missus that the baby's on the way. I'm headed there now. I don't want you to worry about a thing, I won't leave her side. I'll update you as I'm able."
"She knew to call the captain; he's probably with her now," Soap offered from the driver's seat. He'd practically had to arm wrestle Simon for the keys, but ended up convincing him that he'd be able to call for updates if he wasn't worried about driving. Silently, he thanked the saints Simon had agreed; who knows what carnage he'd unleash on the roads as worked up as he was.
"He better be, or I'll - not now, Laswell!" Simon rejected the third call from the station chief since landing and tried Price again. He was sure he'd hear about it for skipping debrief and jumping in the car, but right now he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. When Price's phone again went to voicemail, he was about to go nuclear when the car's Bluetooth lit up with Laswell's number.
"Shite; let me answer it LT." Soap pushed the button. "Laswell, it's Soap. Here with Ghost."
"I know," she said impatiently, her voice filling the space. "I've been trying to call all afternoon. I know what's happening and I'm here to help."
"What? How do you know?"
"Price called me as soon as he got word, asked me to find you. Anyway, you're wasting time heading in that direction; there's a lane closure ahead and you're about to be neck deep in traffic. I've mapped an alternate route for you. Take the next left."
The two men looked at each other in confusion before both starting to speak at the same time.
"Left? That takes us the wrong way-" "How do you know where we're at?"
"Boys! Boys, listen," she continued, exasperated. "Don't worry about how I know, just do as I say. We're gonna get you there as fast as possible. Now turn left!"
Soap cut the car to the left, ignoring the indignant honks of other drivers as he began to cut through the city under Laswell's watchful eye.
______________________________________________________________
"The doctor says you'll be ready to start pushing soon. How are you feeling?" The nurse was genuinely trying to be nice, so you bit back on your retort of how the fuck does it look like I'm feeling? My insides are exploding! and instead chose a weak smile and a head nod.
Once the nurse whisked away, Price was back at your side. You could tell by his expression he wanted to give you a pep talk like you were one of his soldiers about to head into battle, but he was searching for the right thing to say. You broke the silence first.
"I'm scared." Your voice sounded small, the words escaping almost of their own volition. The captain took your hand, blessedly avoiding sugarcoating the situation.
"I know. But you're doing great - a real trooper. Even with the needle in the back! Simon's gonna be so proud of you, love. And Gaz and I are gonna be right here. Right Gaz?"
"Right, Cap." The sergeant slid back into the room, cup of ice in hand. While the captain had taken point and begun advocating for you with the hospital staff and asking a million questions, Gaz had been dutifully making sure you were comfortable. Anything from getting you an extra pillow for your back, to helping you tie your hair back, to getting you ice chips since you couldn't have food or drink during labor, he was on it. If either man was uneasy about what was about to happen, they dutifully kept it under wraps and maintained their game faces.
One by one, the care team took up positions around you to get started. Price and Gaz got next to you, each taking one of your hands, ready to offer what support they could. You shamed yourself, one last time, for being ungrateful for their presence. A lot of people give birth with less, you tried to tell yourself. He’d be here if he could. 
 The doctor walked in, donning gloves and getting a quick status update from one of the nurses before meeting your eyes. “Evening, ma’am. We’re going to-” 
Her words were cut off by a commotion in the hall, a door slamming and what sounded like some raised voices. Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances, and Price motioned for Gaz to go investigate. He poked his head out into the hall for only a moment before returning with a big grin.
“You’re not gonna believe who’s here."
Then your husband was in the doorway, and then he was at your side, and suddenly those honey brown eyes drowned out every ounce of pain and fear you’d been holding onto, and that warm, calloused hand took yours, and you were ready.
______________________________________________________________
You would have thought it would be difficult to fall asleep under fluorescent lights, with monitors beeping and staff bustling around. But you had never known tiredness like this, and wanted to take the nurse’s advice and rest while the pain meds were still working their magic. The delivery had been uneventful once the show was on the road, and Simon never left your side, his steady presence grounding and his voice in your ear keeping you calm. Then there she was, a baby girl, the most precious tiny thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d stared at her and cried for hours, stroking her tiny hand and welcoming her to the world until you could barely keep your eyes open. And so, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss on your forehead from Simon, you found yourself drifting off. You were aware, as you floated off, of his slow pacing back and forth with your newborn daughter in his arms, of his whispers to her that were too low for you to hear. Of the guys popping in, as unobtrusively as possible lest the lieutenant tear them limb from limb for disturbing you and the baby, bringing him food and coffee and admiring the bundle of joy.
“Doesn’t look a thing like you, Simon,” said Soap.
“Thank God for that,” he replied.
“You should have seen it, Simon really - needle this long, right in the spine!” Price remarked, not for the first time. “She didn’t even flinch.”
“I’m just glad you made it for the gross stuff,” mumbled Gaz.
“Kyle, you’re in the military. You’ve seen arms and legs blown off.”
“Completely different, Johnny. Not the same at all.”
On and on they bantered, brothers in arms stepping into their role as uncles for your baby girl with delight. One of the last things you heard was Simon, his voice thick with emotion.
“Thank you, all of you, for being here. For today.”
“Oh come off it Simon,” replied the Captain. “These girls mean something to you, so they mean something to us. That’s what a family is. Now quit hogging her and let Uncle John have a turn.”
You wouldn’t remember this conversation when you woke up, wouldn’t be able to articulate where it came from, but you’d carry with you the bone-deep feeling of connection with this little makeshift family forever.
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