#cause just imagine if we'd gotten THAT

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hear me out.

It's angst.

I think I used 2/3 characters but it's mainly a brief mention of CatNap and a brief Poppy mention + scene. Just dogday and reader afterwards.

---

Poppy runs to Dogday , maybe after the part where CatNap takes the gas mask , because we haven't contacted her in a while.

He finds us from where we passed out in game , but we haven't woken up yet, due to the heavy dosage of the sleeping gas.

When he does find us , we're also partially injured due to the effects of the gas by proxy- Aka. we probably scratched ourselves during the nightmare.

He takes us to Poppy's glass room , which they can probably use as a hideout when they need to rest.

He watches over us as he feels guilty --- having not been there to protect us as we stressed that we'd be okay , so he could go do a different job in the task list to make things faster.

We wake up maybe a day later or you can leave that up to the reader's imagination.

Rapture

Note || AHHH- this is such a neat idea 💕

WC || 945

Sypnosis || feeling injured and for lack of a better word — comatose, it left DogDay in feelings he didn’t want to experience ever again.

She didn’t know what to do, this was inconceivable. Many questions ran through the depths of her fabricated mind, but all she could do is alert DogDay to find you. 

You hadn’t responded for a long period of time, she was beginning to get worried. Sure, you sometimes didn’t respond at times, dealing with certain situations that had left you with a bitter taste on the tongue. Poppy was distressed more than ever, worry was a common feeling when you are in a place like the Playtime Co. Factory. But this was something different, a pitted feeling in her gut that this was something different.

She couldn't slow down however, she needed to tell DogDay. Poppy clambered through the familiar vents, trying to find the large dog. Finally, she came to a stop and had found the very toy she was looking for. 

“Psst-” Poppy climbed through the vent completely, exposing herself to DogDay’s view. “DogDay!” 

DogDay yelped, growling as he whipped his head around. His false temperament faded away quickly enough as he realized that it was only Poppy, the small toy. “Poppy?” His strewn voice echoed, laced with clear exhaustion. He certainly didn’t expect her to make an appearance so soon after the last time they all met up with each other. 

Poppy’s face had presented fear and worry, which was something that had instilled a shadow of fear over his heart. Her red brows furrowed as she thought for a moment, a way to articulate her words without making it even worse than it needs to be. “I know something’s wrong, what is it?”

“Uhm, you know who?” Poppy began, her tiny hands crossing over each other as she stood with a presentable stance. “I haven’t gotten word for some time now, and it’s worrying.”

Those very words struck a fear in his heart that DogDay didn’t like, he didn’t like those words at at all. You were in trouble, and he was gonna find you. He needed to find you at all costs, DogDay didn’t waste time, leaving Poppy where she stood. Poppy had understood his time of hurry, not resenting the sunny dog at all. DogDay walked in fast and large strides, having gotten better use of his legs now that they are attached again.

“Angel..” A small whimper escaped him, not wanting to know what kind of state he might find you in. “Please be okay.”

Not at all, were his wishes true. The state you are in had left DogDay dumbfounded, he straggled over to you, strength slightly sapped after he had struggled the door that had opened to you. The room was full of Poppy Gas, no doubt trapping you in a nightmare – not a dream. You were injured, he had no doubt it was because of CatNap you were desperately trying so hard to escape it. 

DogDay cradled you in the warmth of his arms, trying to not move you too much due to the extent of your very clear injuries. CatNap had stolen your gas mask, which had in return caused you to fall asleep to the effects of the sleeping gas.

 He was surprised you hadn’t awoke yet, later on he had assumed it was due to the heavy dosage of the Poppy Gas. This was a sight he had so desperately wished to escape, but for your sake he had continued onward to the glass room with you in his arms. 

Once he had finally arrived, DogDay opened the door and walked into the room and set you down with a gentle tenacity he didn’t know he had in him. For a moment, he dared let his attention stray from your being as he had walked back to the door and closed it. His head thunked against the wall forlorn laying atop the door, as he was quite tall. A noise, between a groan and a whimper had escaped him, “I should’ve been with you..”. You on the other hand were still asleep, you had been through enough as it is. Even though he remembers your insistence that you would be fine and right by yourself. 

“DogDay, it’s gonna be fine,” You grin at him. “Besides, it’s not gonna take that long..” Your hand wanders over to his arm, patting it as you want to reassure him. He frowned for a moment at your stubbornness. 

“Okay?”

DogDay should’ve been so much more clearer, more defiant at most. So that your grim situation never happened in the first place, he could’ve been there to protect you against CatNap. You saved him, and he could’ve saved you. That much he should’ve been allowed to do, but for now, he had to watch over you. In order to make sure you were okay and could continue onward and stop the Prototype once and for all. 

Minutes passed, perhaps even hours. But he hadn’t paid proper attention to the passage of time, only you were on his mind constantly. DogDay could feel a churning fear of guilt and sadness in his chest, building up so far that even he was surprised at how big his emotions could go. 

The one thought that continuously ran through his mind is that he should’ve been there for you, so that you weren’t injured, that you weren’t in such a deep sleep because of it all. DogDay had allowed himself, only slightly, to tentatively rub reassuring touches upon your head as if he were caressing your cheek. 

He did that to ground himself, and maybe to see if that were to elicit a reaction out of you. 

It was only within the fifth hour that you had finally woken up.

“DogDay?...”

#poppy playtime #dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #x reader #poppy playtime dogday #catnap poppy playtime #poppy poppy playtime

[teenwolfmarvel-obsessor]

Who Did This To You?

Full Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist

Summary: After a long and stressful hunt, all you wanted to do was take some time off at a local bar, primarily you and Dean rather than Sam. So, while Sam is at the motel, you and Dean decide to hang out at a bar in town. The two of you hang out for a while before it's time to head back to the motel. While Dean is in the restroom, you get an unwanted conversation from someone, but you can handle yourself, right?

A/N: Not sure if I like this that much, but I thought I'd post it anyway. Stay tuned for more imagines!! If you'd like to be a part of the tag list, there's a form in my bio you can fill out, or you can DM me!

Notes:

Y/N/N: Your Nick Name

Established a relationship

Not set during a specific season

Warnings:

Unwanted flirting (guy at the bar)

Dean Winchester x-reader

The music played in the background as everyone talked around Dean and me. We had mostly kept to ourselves, occasionally speaking with the people around us. Since we were never really in town for long periods of time, Dean and I thought it'd be funny to make up different stories.

For instance, this time, 'we' had just gotten married in Las Vegas, and we were doing a road trip across the United States. It was stupid, but it was always fun to make different lives that we might never have. "Wow, so, this trip must be fun," Maria said, the woman we met. I smiled and nodded my head.

Dean had his arm around my shoulder, leaning to the side to kiss me on the cheek. "You two are just adorable," Maria said, grinning. The two of us thanked her, telling a few more fake stories about how we had met. "Well, as much as we would love to talk more, we have to head home," Maria said.

She and her husband, Jeff, stood up from the table. "It was so nice meeting you two. Congratulations on the marriage," Jeff said. The nice woman winked at me before leaving the bar. Dean kept his arm over my shoulders. His smile never left his face as we sat there. He sighed and checked his watch.

"Shit. It's eleven-thirty," Dean said. He took his arm off my shoulders to have the last bit of his drink. I grabbed my purse from the chair beside me, putting my arm through the strap. "I'll be right back," Dean stood up, "You good to take the bill?"

I nodded. Dean winked at me and kissed me on the cheek, then headed to the restroom. I shook my head at his actions. The bartender stood to the side as she was tending to some other customers. I pulled out my wallet to close our tap.

We had kept it open for a bit since we had bought Maria and her husband a few drinks, with them doing the same for me and Dean. Lexi, the bartender, spotted me. She held up a finger to tell me she'd be right with me. I gave her a nod and leaned against the bar. I still had a few sips left of my drink.

The music had died down a bit as the night went on. Dean and I hadn't planned on staying out this late, but we had a long day, so it was worth it. Surprisingly, we hadn't drunk that much, mainly because we knew we had about a nine-hour drive the next day. I grabbed my phone to text Sam that we'd be over in a few.

He replied with a thumbs-up icon before telling me that he'd probably be asleep by the time we got to the room. I chuckled at his response, putting my phone into the back pocket of my jeans. "Well, hello," a man said, sliding to the spot beside me. I nodded at him and continued to wait for the bartender.

"Why're you here by yourself?" he asked. I was able to see him from the corner of my eye, noticing that he was already out of it. I looked over my shoulder at the bathroom door. Part of me hoped Dean would spot what was going on, but the other part of me hoped he wouldn't, knowing that he'd cause a whole scene.

"I'm not," I replied. As soon as I said that, I realized that answering his statement gave him even more reasons to continue. The man looked around to find whoever was with me. "Well, I don't see him," he said. "Well, he's in the restroom, so.." my sentence trailed.

I tried to fly down the bartender, but she was now talking to another customer. The man chuckled and turned to the side to get closer to me. I took the last sip of my drink, trying my best to hint that I wasn't interested. He sighed, reaching a finger for the loop of my belt. My hand put the glass down on the counter and tightly grasped his wrist.

He was taken aback by my reaction but gathered himself and tightly pulled my hand away from his. "I'm not interested," I said, "I've got a boyfriend." Now that he was closer, I could practically smell the strong scent of alcohol on him. I mean, we were in a bar, of course, but this was an unpleasant smell.

The man's grip grew tighter at my response. He flipped his hand so my forearm faced up. I looked him directly in the eye before stomping my foot onto his, thanking myself for choosing heavy boots. "Lexi!" I called the bartender. She turned to me with raised brows, her expression changing when she saw the man beside me.

Lexi walked over and glared at him. The people she was speaking to stepped to me, taking the unwanted man away. I thanked Lexi, giving her some money for our drinks tonight. She nodded her head after making sure I was alright. I glanced down at my arm, taking notice of the red marks already forming.

I quickly pulled the sleeve of my jacket down, covering my arm, just in time for Dean to step out of the restroom. I smiled at him as he approached me. "Ready?" he asked. I nodded. The two of us said goodbye to Lexi.

_________

(The Next Day)

I stood in front of the mirror in the motel, doing whatever I could to stop the red marks from becoming visible. But as expected, there wasn't much I could do. Rather than wearing the T-shirt I usually wore. I thought it was best to just keep the sweatshirt I had on yesterday.

The boys had already packed up and were in the car waiting. I told them that I was going to look through the room just in case we forgot anything. Since last night, I hadn't told Dean or Sam what happened, mainly because Dean would freak out and spend the day trying to track whoever that guy was.

I didn't want that, and I knew Sam wouldn't either. We knew how Dean got around things like this. Especially when it came to guys flirting with me. I grabbed my backpack and left the motel room, making sure that my sleeve wasn't pushed up by the backpack strap. "There she is," Dean cheered, gesturing to me with wide arms.

I smiled and got into the backseat. Dean got into the driver's seat while Sam, as usual, was in the front passenger seat. I set my backpack beside me. We were headed to Kentucky after getting a call from a friend of the Winchesters. As Dean was driving, I kept an eye on my arm, wanting to hide it at a good time whenever it began to bruise.

A couple hours passed, and it was time for lunch. We still had about two hours till we arrived at the motel. The three of us found a booth in the back of the diner. Typically, we'd try to find a secluded table in case anyone heard us. Sam pulled out his laptop.

During the whole drive here, Sam and I had been doing some research while Dean drove like usual. "I'm gonna head to the bathroom," Sam told us. We nodded and looked down at the menu. I kept glancing at my sleeve, worried that it would slip down.

I probably should've worn a better jacket, but I had limited choices. Every so often, I noticed Dean glance at me. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Nothing," I answered. He stared at me for a few seconds before scanning his eyes over the menu again. Dean didn't take long to figure out what he wanted for lunch.

"Y/N/N, I've known you and hunted with you long enough to know what's wrong with you," Dean said. He set the menu in the middle of the table, taking mine out of my hands. My boyfriend ignored my glare when he prevented me from choosing my lunch. "Nothing is wrong," I replied.

His unamused expression never dropped. Instead, Dean leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed. "Don't bullshit me," he said. "I'm not bullshitting you, Dean," I replied. Before the two of us continued, Sam came back over to the booth. Pam, our waitress, made her way over.

"Afternoon, sweethearts. What can I get ya'll?" she asked, holding a notepad in one hand and a pink pen in the other. We each told her what we wanted. She smiled and took the menus, turning around to the diner's bar. I caught Dean looking at me as Sam explained what we found.

About an hour passed, and we finished our lunch. Dean left the money at the table, including a tip for Pam. As I was walking out of the diner, Dean grabbed my wrist and pulled me aside. I hissed in pain and took my hand out of his grip. Dean's face turned to concern when he heard my reaction.

The last thing he wanted was to hear me wince from his touch. He told Sam that we'd be right there. He waited a second before turning back to me, wanting to know what the hell just happened. He knew me too well that everything was fine, especially from what we do.

Dean didn't waste a second. He pushed my sleeve down, revealing the hand-shaped marks. Dean looked at the marks and then up to me. "Dean, it's fine," I lightly pulled his hand away from mine, but he didn't back down.

He carefully held my hand, not wanting to let me go. "Who did this to you?" Dean asked, his voice slightly stern. I was glad that we weren't in Virginia anymore since I knew that Dean would leave the diner to go after you know who.

His brows raised when I hadn't answered his question. "Who did this to you?" he repeated. "It was a guy at the bar. It's fine," I replied. I took my hand out of his grip. Dean looked at me and sighed as he put two and two together, turning to the side (GIF Above).

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, looking back at me. "I didn't want you to worry," I replied. Dean sighed, again, and took my hands into his. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head, bringing me in for a hug. "I'm sorry," Dean said. "I'm okay, I'm okay," I repeated.

Taglist: @nix-rose @nyotamalfoy

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x-reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x-reader #sam winchester imagines

[auramgold]

On Acht and Romance

going into side order, from the september direct trailer where Acht was first revealed i remember the joke at the time clearly being "and now Marina's ex is here".

the way this line [image description in alt] was written was basically the only evidence for this kind of idea, when the theories were kind of "Marina's order tantrum is sucking people in from her past and the DLC will be about going through her memories", so ellipses in a line like this is basically all theory crafters on no info need to go for shipping.

i'm not one who's super into plot theory crafting, i know full well the tendency to theorize something that's cooler than what you actually get and being disappointed that the story didn't live up to your imagination. the things i was obsessed with in side order promotional material was the obvious bleached coral theme, the symbolism of coral ejecting it that which keeps it safe out of stress being mapped onto Marina, the idea of her pushing those she loves (and those that keep her colorful) away out of a spiral (and it does turn out that was basically exactly what the prologue was going for)

so the whole "Acht and Marina exes" thing was kinda just a joke to me, wasn't even on my radar as something they were actually going to lean into, frankly i was still scared nintendo was going to make them kill pearlina by sending Marina to superhell or smth and we'd end up with a splatoonified destiel meme

so when the DLC comes out and it is legitimately a "they knew each other since childhood" thing, and the running bit is Acht feeling awkward third-wheeling pearlina, and it's explicit in text that one of the reasons they're coming back after the DLC is over is to scope out Pearl as the girl who took down the NILS statue who is now dating Marina... it struck me as really interesting.

at first it was me keeping up the "Marina and Acht are exes" as a joke, but as i kept reading dialogue lines, it slowly became less of a joke, they were to some degree dating because opposite but complimentary autisms, and then drifting apart as Marina got pulled away on the big girl assignment with DJ Octavio, and then the despair of knowing Marina left without even saying goodbye to Acht... it fits well into that reading, it slowly became less of a joke to believe that

but the thing that really makes me think this is intentional subtext is the final Acht diary entry you get from clearing Eight's palette. through the rest of side order talking about Acht's backstory, it seemed like they were retconning the OE lore that Acht had gotten themself sanitized intentionally, losing themself so they could explore their music deeper. but in the final diary, where Acht directly says they drifted into the deepsea metro to fall into their music, because, and i quote

"Hey, Marina. You can guess the chaos your desertion caused. I ended up without much to do except make music. "

they fell into a depression spiral when their girlfriend deserted their society without so much as saying goodbye, falling into their music deep away from interacting with everyone else, to the point that, as the old lore implies, they chose to give up their identity to escape the depression, but sanitization so thoroughly did it that they forget even making the choice.

so when they get brought out of that haze back into being themself again, with the only the barest strung-together horrified memories of what happened in the half a decade interim gap in their life, only to find themself replaced by some inkling they don't know at all, of course they're gonna be awkward seeing the two flirting.

they put on a stoic face because that's clearly their coping mechanism within this damaged body they barely recognize, hiding their eyes behind their tinted glasses so they can't be seen beneath. but the only time they let themself be vulnerable, the only time their eyes can be seen, is when they charge out in the climax when the world is at stake, diving in to try to save Marina, leaving the elevator and its protection behind to help the only person they remember ever caring about.

it's why i don't really like the aroace reading that much, because i think this reading is even more tragic and fits into the themes. the world has changed, it can't go back to how it once was, you can't put the octolings back in the canyon bottle. Marina abandoned Acht to the point they got their identity destroyed willingly to escape the pain, and when Acht came back they were replaced by the inkling whose voice they remember even through the haze of sanitized memories.

the lingering effects of sanitization have changed how they relate to everything (i think there's a fair argument to be made for the idea that sanitization took their gender can't have shit in the deepsea metro), but Acht clearly still cares for Marina and still, the slightest bit, resents having to be reminded repeatedly every time pearlina flirts in front of them how they were replaced.

#acht splatoon #side order spoilers #dedf1sh #side order #splatoon 3 side order #seriously i'm so normal about this you have no idea #splatoon #splatoon 3

[khaire-traveler]

This is not an invitation for discourse. I am just stating my personal opinions.

I've been seeing some posts going around lately about myth retellings and wanted to give my opinion on something: I think the helpol community (maybe other polytheistic and pagan communities, too) is honestly too critical and intense about modern retellings (and even some historical ones as well somehow).

I know what it's like coming from that critical point of view. I used to be highly critical of certain retellings and stories that used Greek mythology. They used to deeply bother me, actually, but overtime, I realized that staying mad and fuming about these things I can't change - that will always be created - is really exhausting and even causes me to miss out on some truly interesting stories.

Also, seeing how intense some people can be about retellings has actively discouraged people in the community from writing them. How do I know this? I am one of those people, and I happen to know several others in the same predicament. Some people in the community will rip and tear and claw at retellings as if the retelling murdered everyone they loved. People talk about these retellings as if they're literally destroying the earth itself sometimes - like, seriously, y'all, it's wild.

Once, I saw someone post a short story they wrote - a retelling of a myth that I won't name, as I don't want to give the identity of this person away. This person posted this story with good intentions and was a worshipper of the figures depicted within the story, but still, they got absolutely dragged by larger Tumblr blogs and were torn into and literally chased off of Tumblr. This kind of behavior is not ok for multiple reasons, but the main point I'm trying to make is that we are actively making it harder for people within the community to write retellings. You want retellings from people who actually worship the gods? Then maybe make the community a much less judgmental place because sharing creative works takes a lot of courage as it is. Imagine building up the courage to create and share a retelling just to be ripped into by the very community you are a part of. I'm not saying you can't mention to someone when they've gotten something wrong or have written something potentially problematic, but I am saying that you shouldn't ruthlessly dissect someone's work and rip them a part if they seem to be well-meaning but misinformed (assume the best; not everyone is out to get us; easier said than done, I know). You can give criticism while still being respectful to the original author.

For many of these other authors, however, they likely don't even know that worship of these gods exists in the modern day, and even if they do know, acknowledging it may not be relevant to their story, or even their point. Sure, in a perfect world, these authors would acknowledge our little community and pay homage to actual ancient traditions/culture/etc, but we don't live in a perfect world, and that's ok. It is ok, y'all. Not every author writing a retelling is going to be a literal classics major or historian. Not every author writing a retelling is going to be educated on the actual ancient -or modern - worship of these gods. Not every author writing a retelling is going to pay homage to original source material. Do those things suck sometimes? Yes, absolutely. Do we need to lose our heads over it? No, not really. We can choose to focus on other things - on material and media that we actually enjoy and that do depict things how we'd like them to be depicted.

Now, none of this is to say that there are no problematic retellings or that speaking out on problematic retellings is wrong because hoo, boy, there are quite a lot of those. Some retellings claim to be historically accurate and are, in fact, not; some retellings are written by authors with less than ideal values and ideologies; some retellings are even based entirely on misinformation which can be frustrating to hear about. All of these things are true, but it's also true that not every retelling is out to get us. Not every retelling is trying to attack our small community and the gods we worship. As alarming and offensive as it can feel sometimes, it's important that we take a minute and realize that honestly, authors write stories, and sometimes a story is truly just meant to be a story. It's nothing personal. It feels like we, or our gods, are being attacked, but at the end of the day, we still have our own practices, and we are still allowed to engage with those practices. We are still allowed to worship our gods respectfully, even if others do not. And it is important to acknowledge here that others do not worship our gods. These authors are most likely not worshippers of the Theoi. They most likely do not have relationships with these gods as we do, and unfortunately, they may not have respect for these gods either. It would be ideal if they did, but they just might not, and there's no controlling that.

Honestly, most authors are trying their best. They're trying their best to write an interesting, authentic story that will capture the attention of their intended audience. They want to tell a story based on a mythology that inspired them so deeply, so carnally, that they felt the need to write a whole ass book or create a whole ass game about it. They see stories of tragic heroes, powerful gods, and all those caught in-between, and they think, "This is fucking epic; I'm gonna do something with this." Greek mythology is fucking cool. There's absolutely no denying that, and the fact that so many creators of all kinds continue to create retellings based on the love and passion of a mythology from over 2,000 years ago is pretty damn awesome, actually.

#helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic pagan

[calumhoodgoss]

horror story of a teenage 5sos blogger

let me set the scene - its the mid 2010s, I'm 17, in the height of my 5sos fan career, im watching keek compilations all day and scrolling tumblr all night. Life is good.

Fast forward a few months and I start talking to this cute boy at school. we start going on dates, having first kisses - and first everything elses. we're falling madly in love. it's intense (and so cringy to look back at as an adult) but again, life is good! not a worry in the world!!

eventually.. it somehow comes up that my boyfriend and i both have tumblrs (of VERY different nature's mind you). we wanted to show eachother things we'd found online but we were both adamant we didn't want to see eachothers blogs (FOR OBVIOUS REASONS). instead of following each other, we would send each other screenshots of funny textposts, pictures, etc. - blacking out our respective blog names and url's to protect our online anonymity. life is good!

now by day, I'm spending all hours messaging my totally hot boyfriend but by night... by night, I'm reblogging hot gifs of calum hood, smut fanfics, imagines, general gifs of hot couples making out (ifykyk). it's the HEIGHT of tumblr fanfiction and imagine culture and I could not get enough. i was exploring things in real life with my boyfriend while also exploring online through fics. reblogging every single thing along the way. i was having my cake and eating it too and it was a fucking good time to be alive. life is so good!

of course, like any normal person, I was using my tags as a stream of consciousness. a way to get out my feelings about cal, about my boyfriend, about being a teenager, about LITERALLY EVERYTHING. Unfiltered, hormonal, teenage girl writing about the boys she likes. every. damn. night. life! is! good!

until.. all until.. my boyfriend and i were lying together in a park, under a tree, light filtering down on us as we talk and laugh and kiss - a perfect afternoon UNTIL he says there's something he has to tell me. 'what does *name of my blog* mean?'

TURNS OUT, the very first time I sent him a screenshot of something, I didn't black out my url properly and he had been SECRETLY STALKING MY BLOG FOR MONTHHHSSSS.

MONTHS

MONTHS!!!!!!

Literally just months worth of calum hood smut, so.much.smut, smut requests too!!!, soft porn gifs WITH TAGS LITERALLY EXPLICITLY ABOUT MY BOYFRIEND, countless text posts about our dates and whatever the fuck I was thinking or feeling that day, 5sos drama, EVERYTHING. EVERYTHINGGGGG. ABSOLUTELY EV ER Y THIN G

needless to say that blog was immediately scorched from the surface of the earth. and since then, I virtually haven't been on 5sos tumblr - until now. I was so mortified that I wasn't just throwing my thoughts into the void, I was literally scarred.

we're still together though lol I guess he some how liked me enough to look past the 5sos blog HAHA. he's a much stronger person than I because if the roles were reversed and he had some obsessed teenage fan blog, I think i would have gotten the ick straight away. Especially since I literally NEVER talked about 5sos with him because I was soooo embarrassed that I was obsessed with them (this was album one era guys HAHA and my boyfriend was way cooler than me in highschool). now I don't care, I play them in the shower all the time - he can deal with it hahaha

moral of the story is, idk don't tell your teenage boyfriend you have tumblr cause he will find your blog

#he showed me his blog to make me feel better #it wasnt even embarrassing #he would post his film photos on there #and some of them did really well #this was 10 years ago #before film really started having its hay day again in the main streem #he was way cooler than me #i just reblogged stories about calum hoods dick 😭 #5sos #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford #ashton irwin #***almost 10 years ago

[ravenxvamp]

Chapter 1: Colter

Unedited

1899 Current Location: Somewhere In Grizzlies West, Ambarino

'A Dangerous Winter Wonder Land'

White was the colour that covered the vast misty mountaintop of the terrain that we travelled in. The wind howled and roared around us dangerously like a predator hunting its injured prey lurking viciously in the thick icy haze waiting to attack and feast on our soft, weak, and debilitated flesh. We held our clothes tight but each other tighter to protect our feeble bodies from the frosty weather hitting us in the faces like a shot to the head with a rusty bullet. I feel my fingers numb as I try to blow on them to stop the sharp knife-stabbing tingling coming from my frost-bitten nerve endings as my body transferred heat to my essential organs to try and survive this weather but it only made my lips dry and crack and the sensation in my now purple fingers worsen.

I painfully listened to the horses' cries out into the 'everlasting void' as the snow melted into their once-warm fur coats as they pushed forward carrying what seemed like the whole world on their backs as they pulled the ancient decaying wagons through the 6-inch snowy blanket that laid comfortably on top of the earthy floor, with another loud agitated sequel they pushed on with only the amber lighting from the lanterns to guide their innocent pure eyes. The void would be the only word to describe this area of abandoned mountain range although it was as white as a Christmas night, snow was all that covered this land along with a couple of twisted, withered, depressed trees that seemed to have disturbing soulless faces seemed to be carved into their bark like they were once wanderers that had once tried to escape the wrath of the storm like ourselves but that could just be a mirage created by the heartless blizzard on my restless eyes. Sleep was the one thing everyone needed right now if the blizzard didn't get us now then exhaustion or starvation will. Everyone had it rough right now if you could only see us now we'd probably all look like the Walking Dead as there wasn't one person in the gang whose face wasn't zombified with exhaustion.

The men had it the hardest being tasked with scouting and hunting in this lethal weather, I could not even move without being disturbed and rattled awake by the harsh weather conditions so I couldn't even begin to imagine being sent off alone into the unknown. It was almost like sending a man to his death, a death so slow and so painful that in your last moments, you'll be singing like a siren with a gleeful glow in your pitiful child-like eyes happy the artic torment is over looking up at the white overcast as you draw your final breath. Nonetheless, I trust that Dutch knew what he was doing despite the 'rumours' about that girl on the ferry and the Pinkertons in Blackwater and how he lost his mind and slipped into the everlasting depths of insanity that slowly rot your brain until you're trapped in your mind, I could it was still fresh in everyone's memories just by looking around you could tell they were starting to question Dutch's intentions.

My three thick layers of clothing seemed to do nothing against the war that swarmed and spiralled around us, I felt naked as if my 'womanhood' was on show for the whole mountain range to see. I was starting to lose hope as was everyone else of ever getting out of the winter wonderland hell hole,

"Still a got your head in that journal of yours I see"

I flinch at the sudden deep buttery southern accent and quickly slam my journal shut causing a small gust of wind to hit me in my painfully rosy cheeks, it seemed like I had gotten to lost in the moment again and started writing like a mad woman, embarrassed I look over at the hunky cowboy riding next to the wagon as we travel through the tundra. He had that stupid smirk painted on his face as he just seemed to love antagonising me in sickness and health he was there just to harass me and make me miserable,

"Arthur, what are you doing here?"

I say holding a firm tone but the excitement in my voice was undeniable as I had been quite lonely the past couple of days thirsting for a real conversation with somebody that wasn't about starvation or the chilling cold. Arthur knew just how to lighten up the mood of any room he stepped into and he knew just how to cheer me up as well as making my cheeks flush an erubescent colour with this sheepish look in his eyes like ima' big juicy stake ready to be eaten. There had always been some undeniable sexual tension since I had the pleasure of meeting such a man but it's yet to be discussed so for now it just lurks in the cosy aura I feel when I'm around him and I know he feels it too. I stick my head out of the wagon and look ahead to see if Dutch has noticed him slip away from his duty, "And says you," I say as I degrade him as he smugly rode beside me "I sometimes forget what you look like Mister Morgan" I say with a big smirk on my face, he let out a deep stomach chuckle and then shook his head in defeat, that rough rugged manly laugh always erupted something feral inside of me and filled my stomach with butterflies and made my head all dizzy like one of them damsels in Mary-Beth's silly story books and made certain parts of my body eager, "Fair Enough" he spoke with a sigh as he brought his hands up to his face and blew hot air from his chapped lips into his gloves and proceed to rub his upper arms.

"So, how are you holding up?" verbalizing his concern that had been eating him up from the inside, he didn't have to tell me this it was written all over his face "I heard that you got hurt in Blackwater and I just..." he trips over his own words like a newborn fawn struggling to stand for the first as he struggles to find the right way to make his true emotions and intimate thoughts known this was one of the great Arthur Morgans weakness, the gunslinger was so more complicated under the surface if only the Pinkerton's could see him now, "Wanted to see if you were okay," he says in a near whisper scratching the back of his neck I knew he felt guilty for not being there for me but also for Sean, Jenny, and Mac "I'm fine Arthur really I am" his gaze moved towards my injured leg which had been poorly banged with small dark red blood droplets seeping through the loose material and imperfectly covered by the fur on my boots his eyes glistening with regret as he quickly looks back up to me almost like he was looking into the sun "If only I was-" he goes to drown himself in sorrow and pity but I cut him off before he can utter out another miserable word "If nothing," I speak with a powerful tone in hopes he would show attentiveness to my words "You didn't know what was going to happen in Blackwater so there's no point in beating yourself up over something you had no control over" The wrinkles on his face only seemed to intensify as he tried to process the words that I had spoken with an honest tongue "All them' deaths ain't your fault there on Micah, that ferry job was a curse from the start" Arthur's face visible twisted with disgust at the mere mention of that snake's name.

"I know" his words spat venom towards the 'man' if you could need to call such a person a man but also his words had hits of exhaustion laced within two simple words as the last six months Micah had been riding with us have been hell, "I guess I just wished it would have gone down differently" he sighed once more still despite my words still beating himself up over it "Listen we don't even know if Mac and Sean are dead they could have got away, Sean is a slippery Irish bastard and Mac well... he's well Mac, he's gotten himself out of worse" Everyone knew Mac was definitely a peculiar character he was or is vicious, short-tempered most importantly wild probably the most out of control man I've ever met, well him and Davey.

I watch as his tense shoulders relax a bit at my words, I think he knew this deep down but just wanted to hear someone else tell him that it was going to be okay and that we were safe. Arthur would never admit this but he needed validation, he needed security, and despite his cold and hard demeanour behind it all was a soft and gentle man but years of being surrounded by violence had made him sour and bitter, at least that's how he acts on the outside. There was a war going on in his mind that he couldn't escape from as he constantly battles his own nature but man is a part of nature, and his war against nature is inevitably a war against himself and he's losing, he has been for some time now.

We rode in comfortable silence as the frigid crystallised wind blew its harmonic tune around us causing our teeth to chatter in unison, I could feel him glancing at me now and again it was clear by his eyes burning into the back of my skull that he wanted to talk to me again but soon the building tension was sliced in half by a booming voice shouting over the artic storm,

"Arthur, get over here now!"

Dutch's sudden commanding voice almost made Arthur jump right off of his saddle he looked at me again his deep blue eyes twinkled like he had wanted to say something but he just tipped his gambler hat at me and gave me a cheeky wink making me blush before kicking his stirrups into the side of his horse and taking off ahead beyond which my eyes could longingly ponder fondly leaving me in an unpleasant silence and left an excruciating feeling in my chest that burned with admiration and blazing adoration for the simple cowboy.

After what felt like centuries of roaming this empty plane like the undead, Arthur under Dutch's request had gone out and found us an old abandoned mining town for us to camp out in just for a 'little while' to let Davey 'rest' Dutch had said but I think he knew just like the rest of us by looking at his red and pale sickly complexion that he might not make it another mile let alone another trot as his gasping for air got louder and louder and the cold temperature outside was not helping his lungs. Despite the rickety and decaying structure and the overall haunted aura the buildings had due to its emptiness, it brought me a feeling of warmth by just gazing upon its comforting wooden 'castle walls' As we slowly approached the deserted town more and more buildings became apparent to my vision I could already see the home we'd make out of this train wreck.

As the wagon came to a staggering halt as we approached one of the uninhabited cabins which surprised me that the wheels hadn't frozen over yet as the wood seemed to have been stained and chipped with a transparent glaciality blue, I eagerly but carefully jumped into the snow the fluffy blanket of ice trying to put to much pressure onto my injury as I did so, it reached halfway up to my knees my fur boots doing a good job a protecting my toes and legs from the snow that dared to melt through. I quickly grabbed the essentials like blankets, cans of food, and extra clothing as Ms Grimshaw and Dutch shouted at us like sheep and like

shepherds ushering us all into the run-down cabin so that everyone could get warm. It was no unsolvable mystery that hopes and the overall mood of the gang were low, lower than I'd ever seen, we had only just managed to slip out of Blackwater but it didn't come without the cost of Jenny, Mac, Sean and Davey who was currently being carried in by Arthur and Bill. His arms lifelessly dangling like a loose thread on an old cardigan but stiff like he was made from stone, if it wasn't clear to us before it was clear now that Davey had died in the storm it was clear now, with pale white and red skin with a blueish purple tingle and his eyeballs that seemed to drift away each other and his mouth seemed to be glued open like he had just broken his jaw.

Abigail approached the blue stone man who had been laid mummified on the table, she placed two gentle fingers to his neck checking and hoping for a pulse but when her blue eyes dulled to sombre inky grey everyone knew what she was about to say,

"Davey's dead."

Those were the two words people didn't want to hear right now, as of two seconds ago I didn't think that the gang could hint lower than this rock bottom but it seemed as of now doom and gloom was becoming the new norm. The gang desperately needed some inspiration to keep going so that we didn't have to dig any more graves than two and needed someone to give them hope, hope that they would die on some cursed frozen mountain in the Grizzlies. Bickering then erupted among everyone mostly about food, supplies and words of comfort towards Abigail as she fought so hard to help Davey make it out of this nightmare alive, I haven't known Abigail for long but she and Davey seemed close. I stood holding myself trying to stay warm, though we were inside my body still needed time to warm up from that whole mess outside.

My gaze then left the gang tired of listening to the same words getting repeated like a broken record player and I looked over at Arthur he looked like a mess but a beautiful mess, his hair seemed to want to escape from his scalp flowing in all different directions waving and spinning like royal swan ballet dancers but this was all hid underneath his hat. His gorgeous hazel eyes though glazed with sorrow as he looked over at Davey like everyone else he watched as they placed coins over his and shook his head. His focus shifted back to Dutch as he turned his head, I obsessively fixated on his sharp jaw and how his beard perfectly hugged his face tightly it made me secretly bite my lip.

"Listen... listen to me all of you, for a moment "

Dutch had cleared his throat before he had begun to speak in a grieving, but assertive tone to draw everyone's attention to him, he took a deep breath as he looked around at our famished, depressed, exhausted faces before he began speaking, "now, I know we've had a bad couple of days" he pause for a second to take a breath to stop himself from getting emotional at his ex-gunner recent demise "I loved Davey..." his tone changed to one laced with regret and grief you could tell the deaths had really gotten to him, "Jenny..." he continued and as he continued he began to speak more clearly and less emotional as he knew he needed to be strong to help the gang lift themselves back up and proceeded with his speech "Mac, Sean... they may be okay we don't know" though he wasn't sure if the two were alive he spoke of them like they could walk through the cabin door behind him at this very moment but still keep it serious tone as we didn't need to get our hopes up only for them to be brought down by the news that Mac and Sean had been killed. "But we lost some folks... now if I could, though myself in their stead..." he used hand gestures to exaggerate and emphasise what he was say into the truth "I'd do it... gladly" he looked around at us and his eyes meet with Arthur's for a second and he nodded at him in agreement, "but... we are going to ride out and find some food" he pointed towards outside "everybody, we're safe now. There ain't nobody following after us in that storm" slowly everyone's face began to light up, not that Dutch had singled handedly erased the sadness and gloom from our brains it just left nice to know that we'd be safe it was nice to have security for once "by the time they figure out we're here, we'll be long gone" his voice got high and more confident "now all of you get warm, and stay strong. Stay with me" if you were a wanderer and just so happened to walk passed this cabin you would of thought he was hyping up a mob "we ain't done yet!" he said as he proceeded to walk towards the door with Arthur disappearing into the snowy mist.

New camp meant a whole lot of work had to be done to get things up and running again, luckily for me due to my leg injury I had been excused from working and got to snuggle up to the fire enjoying its warm comforting embrace while I get to avoid Ms Grimshaw's wrath unlike the other poor souls who's cry's I just drink right up like a fine wine as I watch them run around like busy worker bees but despite everything going on around me there was no room in my brain to care about think about anyone other than Arthur. I was worried sick as I watched the blizzard outside grow stronger and stronger my stomach began to twist in a vile sickly way but other than that I was enjoying relaxing for once,

"Oh [NAME], get your head out of that silly journal for one-second girly I need to talk to you"

Or so I thought... "yes Ms Grimshaw? what is it that you need?" I tried my best not to sound annoyed as I was having such a good time like the little sadist I was listening to the other's complaints about their labour and now I thought god was punishing me for having such impure thoughts, "I wanted to talk to you about your living arrangements" I raised and slightly tilted my head at the older woman "what do you mean?" she scoffed and rolled her eyes like I was stupid before grabbing me with her aged hands hard enough to leave some minor bruising but I didn't think that was intentional and pulled me into a more secluded area of the cabin tucked away in a corner and away from the cosy fame I had just been sitting peacefully in.

"Will you and Mister Morgan be sharing sleeping arrangements?" This question caught me off guard causing my mouth to open slightly with shock and my cheeks flared up an embarrassing bright rosy red like I had just eaten something spicy so red in fact that there may as well be smoke coming out of my ears "What on earth do you mean Ms Grimshaw?" I said move defensively then I would of hopped, she again rolled her eyes but with a bit more flamboyancy and irritation this time and with a bitch smacked look on her face with injunction strained in her voice she proceeded to say "don't play coy with me, girl," pointing her wrinkled finger at my chest like a mother scolding her child "you know better then to rile me up, you know damn well what I'm talking about!" I of course one hundred per cent knew that she was referencing mine and Arthur's relationship status at the moment.

The question alone had left me feeling flustered that other people thought me and Arthur were something more than we actually were. Hidden sexual and romantic interactions like teenager star-crossed lovers who only just found out that relationships can consist of more than just sloppy kisses were not rare in fact, they were so common people started thinking we were sweet on each other. If I could explain our current relationship in two words it would be 'business transaction' we had become so needy and thirsty like animals in heat we found each other for the first time in a time of luscious sorrow both being without partners for so long and whisky is a horrific combination for two lost heartbroken souls, Mary didn't want him and my love had passed. Ever since then, we have had this strange relationship where feelings weren't supposed to be felt between the two it was supposed to be purely lustful but liquor is a sober man's poison and Arthur has never been able to hold his drink or maybe he was too much of a gentleman to use a woman in such ways I guess I'll never know.

"Are you just going to stare at me like I'm stupid or are you going to answer me woman?" when I realised I was all up in my own little world again I tuned back into the single more terrifying expression that Ms Grimshaw just the look of the tint of impatientness in her eye made me want to jump out of my skin and run away with my tail tucked in between my legs like some skittish little street dog "It's hard to say... well, begin to say what we are" Ms Grimshaw still not amused by my flustered reluctance on my current relationship status huffed with annoyance "listen, girl if you're not going to give me a straight answer I'm just going to go on assumptions" I was going to say something to defend my hesitance, but it was too late she had waddled away throwing the cabinet door open most likely going to go work on the others sleeping arrangements.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours of pure grotesque torture my mind flashed of the 'assumptions' that vile woman Ms Grimshaw had made to make my life hell, I saw her messy bun and her elderly face peak back through the wooded door in which she had disappeared out of not too long ago, "Miss [NAME], get over her girly" she shouts over the wind and waves me over sticking half of her body inside the warm cabin, not wanting to keep her waiting I get up quickly causing some strain on my leg as I forget about its injury's and almost trip like some drunken fool as I followed her through the snow like she was a mother duck and a was a little duckling.

Ms Grimshaw led me towards one of the cabins the cosy's looking and the one with the most structural integrity at least from what I could see. It almost felt like home but home was what we make it like a homeless man would call a cardboard box a mansion if he was surrounded by people who he loved dearly. We make do with what little we have and are grateful to have each other to hold up together, a flower can't bloom without a little rain but I'd describe our situation as more of a flood.

She opened the door and warmth hit my face once again, I was great by Molly's uptight expression, not the usual snotty glare. She was standing by the fire well she wasn't doing much standing as her fingers were practically down the back of her throat like she was trying to make herself throw up after she ate something rotten. Molly jumped not expecting our company and clearly enjoying her time isolating herself from the rest of the gang like she so often likes doing, her eyes sparkled for a moment painfully obvious that she thought we were Dutch before realising we weren't she scoffed not in an arrogant way as usual but more in a disappointed manner to which Ms Grimshaw rolls her eyes at the young woman and waves me over to a room on the right.

I was shocked, to say the least, that this was one of the 'good' rooms. Paper was scattered all over the floor along with rotten floorboards that had come loose and had just been pulled out from the ground and thrown to the side like some used whore, along with that there were chunks of glass that littered the floor accompanied by some dried up leaves that had been blown in by the cold draft in addition to that there were some cool halloween decorations of tiny animal bones that looked like they belonged to a rat, there was no way one of us was going to be sleeping on that floor. Talk about sleeping arrangements the bed didn't look cosy either the mattress was all ripped and torn like it had been attacked by a bear but it looked big enough for two people though it was hard to tell with Arthur's bulky figure, "So here we are, this is where you and Mister Morgan will be staying, if you change your mind there is always a space for you in the main building" I smiled and thanked her for her assistance before she rushed out to attend to other things. She was such an amazing woman Ms Grimshaw and everyone seemed to take advantage of that or undermined her contribution to the gang, it was sad really. I lay on the bed, the mattress not being as bad as it looks it just needs some blankets and it would be perfect. I stare at the ceiling not properly being able to stop and process everything that's happened so far I start to feel drowsy until a voice breaks the silence,

"Hey everybody Dutch is back!"

I faintly heard Lenny's excited shout as my eyelids started to fall heavy but they sprang back open again and my mind immediately flickered over to Arthur.

I make my way over to the gang most of them had come out of the comfort and warm to see Dutch in hope that he'd brought back some food or something to help us survive, so there was a big penguin huddle around him and Arthur and a strawberry blonde woman who looked terrified, traumatised even she couldn't stop violently shaking like a helpless animal that had just been shot and I just knew it wasn't from the cold. If feel as if Dutch made the right decision bring her here but that was just a gut feeling and I tend to be a person who thinks with my head and not a silly feeling in my stomach. I later learned her name was Sadie Adler, poor thing had become a widow. I looked at Arthur from a distance and I could tell that he was burnt out, he had dark circles around his eyes and looked seconds away from nodding off. I wasn't really listening to Dutch speak as I was too worried about Arthur  and to be frank in this moment of time there was a vile depression swarming in my mind like a toxic black fog that made me cold and not care if we all reached the pearly gates or the fiery deeps of hell as much as I'd hate to admit it. he looked really bad like he was going to collapse any second now swaying back and forth like a drunken sailor and blinking slowly like a reptile in the desert, he was clearly in a world of his own. I waited impatiently for Dutch to stop speaking or in other words stop yapping out of respect for the old man I didn't want to ruin his amazing speech so that I could slither on over to Arthur.

"You okay cowboy?" I say as I hobble over to him and gently stroke his arm with my gloved palm moving it up and down on his cotton blue coat, oh how badly I wanted to press my soft warm virgin lips to his rough and scarred face and to hold him like a child in my feminine embrace as I run my fingers through his unkempt hair and whisper dove-like songs to him as I tell him 'it's okay' but if you haven't gotten the hint by know that wasn't how our relationship worked. He looked surprised to see me and grabbed my palm with his larger hands and gently like he was holding a rich china set moved my hand back to my sides rejecting but appreciating my touch at the same time, "you should be resting" he spoke in a straggly strained tone I found this very ironic coming from someone who had trouble keeping his eyes open "so should you" a sigh erupts from his dry cracked lips knowing he didn't go back and forth all day or too exhausted to give me lip, he gave in to me, "come on big boy, let's get you to bed" I say as my gloved hand tenderly gripped his and guided him towards the cabin. He tailed behind me like a giant puppy afraid to walk astray from its mother, it made me all warm and fuzzy inside knowing that Arthur had the strength and build of a bulky grizzly bear and the personality and charm of a cougar and could very easily over power me at any second and pull away but right now he was letting drag him through the bone chilling snow his grip on my hand was lose and soft as if he was holding onto glass, his touch though small and insignificant to those who didn't know the man but Arthur's touch spoke volume he was gentle with those who needed and rough to those who needed it but he had never been sweet with his touch it felt like an angel had came down and blessed my pure feminine hand with that of a rugged man's, like an abused street dog I didn't need him to speak as the silent language of touch alone told me that our relationship was growing into something more then a casual fling.

I help him over to the bed when we get inside the cabin his legs wobbling a bit as he goes to sit down, he lets out a long frustrated hot grunt as he throws he head back slightly revealing his Adams apple as he takes of his old dirty hat and runs his now un-gloved fingers through his hair as if he was aggressively petting a dog before his fingers traveled up to the bridge of his nose and he pitches it. With a thump he sits down on the elderly and rather uncomfortable bed, "I'm exhausted" he spoke in a worn out strained sexy voice and he really was quite a sight as of now... but much as I'd like to drool about him all day like a yearning virgin with a rotten blood red devil heart with the thick black wings of fallen hopes and the maggots of love and desire eating away at the fleshy wall that is fear and impurity, he was a real person at the end of the day a person that filled me with thoughts of lechery and complexed feelings that felt the need to be sexualised every second by some desperate lonesome woman in my mind that is me. "Would you like some help?" He didn't even have the energy to look up at me or verbally respond to my question so he just nodded, so I knelt down in front of his perfectly sculpted face. Him despite being sat down he still towered over me like a great old oak tree as one by one I pulled his boots with two great tugs, not the usual activity I get up on when I'm on my knees for him so it felt unfamiliar with the domesticity of it all but oh well, "so how was your day?" I ask standing up to assist him in taking of his coat and slinging it of his shoulders "well despite almost freezing to death, I think that... I'm just fine" he spoke with a bit of hesitance it was clear that he thought something else in that hollow head of his but I thought nothing of it and shrugged it off.

"So will you joining me anytime today Miss?" I felt my whole body flush up a red crimson, my mouth started to fill with droll, my palms started to sweat and I felt my heartbeat in my chest and somewhere else he had never been this straight forward with me before so it surprised me and also aroused me,  "I... well, you see..." I slurred over my own words my fluttered state becoming apparent to the man as he looked at me with the biggest smirk on his face laying with arms behind his head and his legs crossed with his hat back on his head again but pushed down so you couldn't see his irresistible ocean blue eyes "nah, I don't think I see why not" his smirk growing with every second my face invents a new shade of red and shuffle my feet uncomfortably like a penguin "come here' beautiful" his buttery voice was like a siren's sweet lullaby to my ears almost making me buckle and melt like ice cream under the sun. I try not to look to eager as I kick off my fluffy boots being careful not to accidentally touch or knock into my injury but I think he could tell that I was eager my the way his sleepy eyes seemed to follow me around the room and have a tint of amusement in them. I walk over to the bed and lay next to him it was awkward for awhile as we don't usually share a bed together, so I wasn't used to the beds dip to the side Arthur was laying and the way it sort of pulled me towards him like a black hole but I tried to the best of my feeble ability not to roll onto his husky chest, or the heavy breathing that he huffed like a dragon in and out of his lungs as he relaxes into the bed but still seemed uncomfortable somehow. That was until Arthur wrapped his arm around me and pulled me into his chest "I don't want you hang' off the edge to the bed there darling, hope this ain't to awkward" I guess me being uncomfortable made him uncomfortable in a weird romantic type of way it wasn't awkward at all his touch was like a beacon that light up my dark soul or the fan to fuel my fames, it actually felt nice to be held a feeling I had once long forgotten of being in the arms of someone you love and care for "not at all..." I whisper listening to his steady heartbeat like it was a song played by god himself and his angels, the warmth from his body was ecstatic and helped lull me to sleep. The last thing I remember was the faint whisper of something Arthur had said to me in my last seconds of consciousness I being think my fine moments in the 'Wild West' back in the good old' days when we weren't on the run from what seemed like the whole world and the relaxation of my muscles hit and then I started to fade away.

END NOTE

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Author's notes: I hope you enjoyed reading Until My Last Breath as much as I did writing it. Unfortunately, I am slow writer so there will be extremely slow updates but I promise you it will come out.

I'd love to know if you love the story so far and what your views on it are so don't be afraid to leave a comment.

I am planning on writing a Dutch Van Der Linde fanfic if any of you are interested please let me know.

Also, it is unedited at the moment so please if you see any mistakes point them out to me, thank you!

Thank you for reading.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption arthur #arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur #rd2 x reader #arthur morgan x reader #wild west #john morrison #dutch van der linde

[circe69]

I read your rules and I hope this isn’t too dark but can you do a Simon x reader where the reader has an identical twin and they die during the graves betrayal scene and the aftermath is Simon comforting the reader? Like they were already crushing on each other and he’s comforting her.. thank you💚

I Wish For Simon

a/n - anon i am so sorry it took me so long to answer this, i'm terrible w requests! i want to make it perfect before i post, so hopefully this is what you wanted... wc: 1.1k cw: gore, violence, suggestive themes, probably the best thing i've ever written (yeah its a warning cause YOU'LL BE BAWLING)

fav line from the fic - “That voice could seduce anyone, I was sure of it. It was as if God himself had dipped Simon's vocal cords in a pot of warm honey, then lit it on fire.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Me and my twin had always been close, we had to be. "Best friends since birth", we'd been deemed from before we could even speak. Alyssa and I were quite the pair and had exceeded our hometown's problematically low expectations of woman in a whole when the both of us had been assigned to serve in the 141 Task Force.

It was a change of pace, but one that I wanted. I had prepared for something like this my whole life, training and worked myself to death just to have a chance to serve. Alyssa, on the other hand, wasn't as keen on the idea. Sometimes I wonder if she just joined because she couldn't bear to be apart from me. I love the sentiment, but we were grown adults, we couldn't afford to make decisions solely due to separation anxiety.

That brings us to today, March 3rd. I hate March 3rd.

My birthday. Well, our birthday.

I hate today because as of now, I have to celebrate it alone. It's been years since Alyssa died, and I still act just as immature and "kid-like" when March 3rd rolls around every year.

Her death had been nothing short of a "hostage dump", my sister had been counted as a waste of time to Graves, someone who wouldn't make a difference to anyone in the force, so why would he keep her?

I can't help but think it was my fault, but I didn't have time to feel sorry for something I might've done. All I felt was anger, hot rage bringing my blood to a boil, all which contributed to what I was about to do. Anger is difficult to overcome, especially when it's brought on by confusion, something happened that you barely knew anything about. I wanted to take it upon myself to strip Graves of all the "information" I felt I was missing, I wanted to skin him alive and make him answer questions as I did it, but as I rose my knife behind Graves’ wall of a body, a hand stopped me.

A silent move, not a scary one. I immediately knew who it was once I saw the fabric.

Ghost.

His hand was heavy around my wrist, his height towering over me, it was all too much for me to focus on, so I did what I'm positive Ghost was trying to make me do, I backed down.

I retreated as quietly as I could, putting my blade back in its embrace of a pocket and followed Ghost out the door, trying to excuse whoever that woman was in there that she hadn't had enough sleep, she was hungry and just wanted to feel something, but Ghost had none of it.

"It's okay, Y/N, to want to avenge someone. It's okay to be bloodthirsty and feel yourself make allowances for it. It's okay."

Ghost was a man of many attributes, but comforting was never one of them. He himself had attended multiple therapy sessions throughout the entirety of our relationship, but they only lasted so long before he strangled the shrink.

I liked Ghost. I admired him, I admired what his life had amounted to. Perhaps worthless to him, a soul placed in the wrong hands, but I thought quite the opposite.

"You're a good man, Simon."

His name slipped out of my mouth.

No.

Oh no.

I had gotten too emotional, I felt myself crawling into a hole of feelings and a strong desire to cry rushed over me. I suddenly imagined all the times I'd watched Simon do simple, mundane things, and stared at him long enough to read his dog tags over and over and over. I'd recited his name in my head, in my dreams, for so long and I still was shocked when I'd heard myself say it.

His eyes locked with mine. Dark, deep, dead, he'd like to contribute, but I chuckle mentally as I think about how the man who views himself as dead was the only one in the world who made me feel as alive as he did.

"What did you say?" That voice could seduce anyone, I was sure of it. It was as if God himself had dipped Simon's vocal cords in a pot of warm honey, then lit it on fire.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, I shouldn't have addressed you like that, my apologies." I started to walk away when his body came crashing against mine. My back hit a jagged wall and I groaned in pain, but I quieted down when I realized just how close he was to me. I felt him against me, and I couldn't feel it fast enough. My senses heightened, my pupils dilated, and my face flushed with a dark shade of aflame red. Both of our breathing was shallow and heavy, every breath he emitted made mine deeper, louder.

I could feel the confusion seeping off of him. He didn't want it to feel so good when his name left my mouth. He didn't want to enjoy it, but it was inevitable. A no-good name slipping out of a no-good mouth, it was bound to happen at some point.

I shook off my daydream, finding myself at an empty table in an empty dining hall, the only thing in front of me was a poorly made cupcake, pink frosting, sprinkles, all the works. I stared at a candle, half of it had already melted mind you, and my mind reeled as I stalked my mental drawers for wishes I hadn't made yet,

"I wish for Simon." My voice broke as I said it, and I realized I hadn't spoken all day until now.

I don't truly believe that's why my voice broke, however. I truly did love Simon, I loved him in everything he did and everything he didn't. I loved the fact that he never exhibited any sort of emotion except for denial and force. I loved how scared he was of feeling anything else.

A tear dropped onto the table below me, the chair screeched as I stood, and everything was happening too fast. Before I knew it, tears were pouring out of me at an uncontrollable rate. I turned around and started heading for the door, telling myself that I would leave that stupid wish behind with the melted wax, but I was stopped in my tracks when I saw who was leaning against the doorway with those beautifully built forearms crossing his chest.

He had heard it, was all I could think as I made intense eye contact with him. With everything else.

His mask was discarded. I couldn't stop my jaw from unhinging, I felt it click open slowly and it dropped until it couldn't anymore.

Simon smiled at the action. His white teeth contrasting his pink lips. I looked back at the table for a fraction of a second to see that the flame I had left untouched had been blown out, maybe it was the wind, maybe it was the spirit of my once-lonely-self making an appearance for the last time.

I looked back at Simon like a child on Christmas.

Maybe I'd keep wishing for stupid things if they'd work as well as this one did.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

a/n part two : happy new years everyone! i probably won’t post till monday, but i wish you all the best and love💕

#ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fluff #modern warfare #ghost fluff #ghost imagine #circe69scribbles

[topguncortez]

#BobFucks request: Bobby with a breeding kink 🤭 Innocent reader triggers Bob’s soon-be-discovered kink after playing with the kids at the family holiday gathering. It’s the first time she celebrates a holiday with Bob’s family.

Nah cause imagine it's the first time he's ever brought you home to meet his big crazy family. His siblings and cousins had been teasing him when he was going to bring you home. He didn't want to send you running for the hills quite yet.

But you got along with his family without a hitch. His mom loved you, his dad loved you, his sisters, cousins, even Aunt Karen loves you. Bob felt so comfortable having you there with him. You shined like you always did in these sorts of situations. Bob knew that he had made the right choice in making you his.

But what really got his gears going was watching you with the little ones. He knew that babies loved you. Whenever Payback brought his kids around, you were always holding them and playing with them. But seeing you hold his week old nephew sent something off in Bob. Something he had never ever felt before.

He could see the two of you a year from now, either you being pregnant with one of your own, or holding a little one in your arms. A perfect mix of the two of you. His mind was swimming with the thought of you being pregnant. The glow of your skin, the shine in your hair, the roundness of your stomach. Being so full of him.

Bob knew two things right then and there: one, he needed you in the most primal way, and two, he wanted to make you his forever.

The second that dinner was over, and his family started to mingle all over the house again, Bob grabbed your hand and drug you outside to the small apartment his father had built above the barn you two were staying in.

"What are we-" Your words were cut off by Bob smashing his lips to yours. The kiss was nothing that you had ever gotten from Bob. Usually his kisses were slow and sensual. This was bruising and full of passion.

"I need you," Bob said, nipping at your neck, "Fuck, I need you so bad, darlin'." His voice was thick with his accent which had appeared in full force since being back home. Bob walked you backwards to the bed, when your knees hit the mattress, he pushed you down on it. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them down above your head with just one of his hands.

"What got you so worked up?" You moaned as he grinded his hips into yours.

"You did," Bob said, "Seeing you with the kids. God, you'd be such a good mommy some day. We'd make perfect babies."

"You want to make babies with me?" Your voice was small and full of hope as you looked up at Bob.

"Fuck yes," Bob groaned, "I wanna have babies with you. I wanna knock you up, get you full of me. I wanna watch you grow every single day. Wanna see your tits get so full of milk for our baby."

You didn't know that this would be something you were into, but the heath spreading between your legs was a telltale sign that you were. Bob leaned down again, kissing the spot under your ear.

"That what you want? Want me to fucking breed you? Turn you into my perfect little house wife? Keep you fucking full of my seed?"

"Please," You cried out, "Please, sir. Fuck a baby into me."

That's all that Bob needed to tear your clothes off and fuck you so hard you forgot your own name.

#topguncortez #bob fucks #bob floyd

[raelle-writing]

DFF episode 5 thoughts:

Rambling some thoughts about the DFF characters, spoilers possible so I'm putting a cut

Jin - I was surprised that it seems like Jin isn't one of the bullies, I thought for sure he would be. Unless he's REALLY good at hiding how manipulative he is, he seemed to genuinely like Non (as a friend, I think) and wanted to befriend him. Especially since he fought back to his friends when they shit-talked Non... but then the question comes up, why is he friends with them if they're nasty and he's not? And why was he surprised at the way they talked to Non? Is he new to the group? Why did they accept him?

Tee - This episode made me a bit more sympathetic to him but also made me dislike him more at the same time? Because on the one hand he's in a really awful position where his uncle his using leverage of withholding the money Tee needs to help his sick father, and threatening to cut them off if Tee doesn't help with his criminal enterprise. And at the same time, Tee was so nasty and manipulative to Non I still had a hard time sympathizing with him. I'm interested to see how he and White got together, and if things with his dad resolve.

Top - Hated him, but I wish we'd gotten more depth. He doesn't seem to be part of the core of the friend group. He's just a mouthy hanger-on that doesn't have much beyond that, but I'd imagine his home life isn't good either since that's the direction the show has gone for the rest of the bullies.

Por - I felt bad for him, ngl. He had Regina George running the school vibes, but then his home life is tense. His mom babies and spoils him but his dad seems to disapprove of his entire life, and only care about Por as far as it extends to the dad's image. In the preview for the next episode, we see Por getting hit by his dad. It makes sense to me why he became the bitchy bully popular kid, since he has money but not love.

Fluke - He seemed to be part of the core of the group but also really quiet? Like it seemed like Tee, Por, and Fluke were the original three friends and the core of the group since they were the ones to convince Tee. But beyond that scene, Fluke seems really quiet and reserved. He's also the one to show disapproval of Tee and Top bullying Non and blaming the camera breaking on him, but he doesn't say anything about it or back up Jin.

Non - I wonder about him. He was presented as an entirely innocent victim this episode - but is he? He's taking medication for mental health issues, clearly. What kind? It is possible that he eventually snaps and causes something bad to happen... he shows s*icidal tendencies this episode, so is it possible he goes all the way later because of some of the bad stuff that Tee dragged him into? Or maybe he snaps and tries to hurt someone? I don't know, I'm interested to see what happens next. Currently I feel bad for him and wish the others would leave him alone, but we'll see if that changes over upcoming episodes.

Keng - Creepy. I liked him up until he pushed a ride on Non even tho Non didn't look like he wanted it. Now I wonder if he spotted a lonely, isolated kid and easy target and is harassing him... he could be the ❤️ in Non's phone. Idk but I don't trust him.

Questions I still have:

How did Keng end up dead? IS he really dead?

How does Tee's uncle play into all of this, as well as the money laundering with Non?

Did Non commit s*icide, did someone kill him, or is he still alive?

How does the politics and money laundering play into the broader plot?

How did Non end up going along to the vacation home when Por clearly doesn't want him to be there?

How does the cult play into all of this, if it does?

Are the present boys being haunted, or is it hallucinations? If it's a haunting, why did Top try to kill Jin when Jin was the nice one to Non, unless something goes wrong later?

Does Non like Jin? Does Jin like Non back?

Who is ❤️ in Non's phone?

How does the group not know if Non is dead or alive? Did his family never report him missing? Do they think he's abroad? What's going on there?

#more questions than answers but I absolutely love it #I love not knowing what's going on #and I love all the complexity that each character has #super interested to see the next episode #DFF #dead friend forever #DFF episode 5 #DFF the series

[resurrection-of-soul]

Flashback | BIOHAZARD 5

Writer: Akira (日日日)

Characters: Rei, Koga, Kaoru, Adonis

Koga: Quit messin' around, "Vampire Bastard~!" The hell d'ya mean, pajama party, huh? Rei: My, what a nostalgic form of address. It has been quite a while since I last referred to you as "Puppy," did you miss it terribly?

[ For the best viewing experience, please read directly on my blog! ♪ ]

Time: That night.

Location: The accommodations provided at the AIIE Experimental Facility.

Rei: Yaaay, it's a sleepover with everyone from UNDEAD~ ♪ Fufu. We would have had a magnificent opportunity to host a pajama party during the SS preliminaries, but alas, Kaoru-kun was torn from our midst and cast into the desert. He alone had to suffer undue hardship. I am elated that the four of us can now enjoy a slumber party toge- woah?!

Koga: ......

Rei: Koga? It is impolite to suddenly throw steamed buns at people, yes? Or do you mean to say you wish to play ball with these?

Koga: Quit messin' around, "Vampire Bastard~!" The hell d'ya mean, pajama party, huh?

Rei: My, what a nostalgic form of address. It has been quite a while since I last referred to you as "Puppy," did you miss it terribly?

Koga: It ain't meant to be nostalgic! I'm insultin' ya, you asshole!

Rei: I would truthfully be quite troubled if thou were to abruptly begin disparaging me, so kindly refrain from venting thy frustrations on me. All four of us agreed to participate in this experiment together. What merit is there in complaining about the matter at this juncture?

Koga: I didn't agree to shit! We were basically coerced into it. If we'd refused to be used as guinea pigs, then those innocent Ra*bits would've gotten dragged in instead. Rather than havin' to sit around worryin' over whether someone out there is sufferin' some unknown fate cause a' me, it's way better for my mental health if I just run into the flames myself. Don't forget, I'm not actually on board with this shit at all.

Kaoru: Ah ha ha. This whole experiment thing is definitely a bit shady and off-putting, but don't you think it also sounds kind of interesting? When you hear about "AI Idols" and stuff — it really makes it feel like science has come as far as it can, doesn't it? Like those old sci-fi movies!

Kaoru: If this really had just been a movie— no, even if it had just had nothing to do with me personally, I might have really enjoyed hearing about it.

Adonis: Though I also find this all slightly uncomfortable, I do think it is interesting from a science and technology standpoint. The future which people envisioned when they came up with things like V*caloid and AI art programs is now unfolding before our eyes. When people in the past dreamed of the future for sci-fi stories, this is the world they imagined. For better or for worse, it's like living in a dream. It makes my heart pound.

Kaoru: Ahaha. It's like, totally a boy's romance, isn't it? I don't dislike that kind of thing. After all, I'm the son of a scholar who reached out to the sea in search of romance and mystery.

Adonis: I also do not dislike the idea of venturing out into the unknown.

Rei: Realistically speaking, had we spurned this request, there existed the possibility that our agency would have given up on us. Rhythm Link adheres rather strictly to the dictates of the corporate hierarchy, after all. To not be thrown by the wayside, our participation 'twas a necessary evil. Moreover, should the project prove triumphant, the prospect of substantial reward awaits us. Simply put, we stand to profit. 'Tis true that we still boast a surplus of funds, having garnered quite a considerable sum during SS, so the monetary reward is not so alluring. Yet, if the "artificial idol" experiment is successfully realized and publicized, the spotlight will fall on us as its primary test subjects. Such a scenario would prove quite advantageous for us, yes?

Koga: None a' that has a~anythin' to do with the real problem. They're just tryin' t'buy time cause they dunno how to deal with us. We'd better not end up lookin' like idiots who wasted all our time on this wild goose chase.

Rei: A most salient point. As Koga says, let us all carefully consider how we might solve our fundamental problem. Fortunately, we have plenty of time available to do so.

Kaoru: Yeah… I felt a bit nervous since they called it an experiment, but we, like, basically just have to spend the night here, right?

Rei: Indeed. We have been supplied medicine capable of inducing sleep for around half a day. During that time, data shall be collected through the devices affixed to our heads. While not sleeping, we are permitted to engage in exercise to prevent our bodies from suffering physical deterioration, as well as eat to maintain our vigor. We four shall live together harmoniously. The experiment shall last for approximately one week's time. For the duration of the testing period, all other engagements hath been prohibited to us, for extraneous stimuli may taint the data. Thus, our smartphones and other such devices have been seized, and we shall remain isolated from the outside world.

Kaoru: Kinda feels like we're hospital inpatients, or maybe prisoners… Oh well, it's an easy job where all we have to do is slack off.

Rei: Mm. There would be no harm in taking this chance to relax. 'Tis not a complete waste of time, as we shall receive our due pay regardless of whether the experiment succeeds or fails. Fortunately, the environment we are to live in is far preferable to that of a hospital or prison. Look here, we have been provided with cards and board games to while away the time. Until the time comes for us to work— Or rather, before we must answer sleep's call, let us play together.

Koga: Ain't you actin' waaaay too chill about this?

Rei: 'Tis good if you see it thus. As a child, I always behaved unnervingly like an adult. Thus I lacked experiences such as this, wherein one might have a sleepover with their peers. And so… Though the future remains uncertain, in this moment, I can confidently state that I am utterly delighted ♪

[ ☆ ]

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#enstars translation #ensemble stars #rei sakuma #koga oogami #kaoru hakaze #adonis otogari #undead #flashback #biohazard

[wetfungi]

Pre-op trans man gets fucked by boss. Focuses more on the build up to fucking and not really the fucking tbh. Trans guy is 20, boss is like 35-40. All genital and terms for body parts are used. No feminization. //

~

Want my boss to pull me into his office for some work shit and see him get a boner from just talking to me. I wanna see him get embarrassed and try his hardest to keep talking while I just listen. Have him stumble over his words while I nod and sit there.

I wanna hear him lock his door while he let's me out. I wanna go about my day like nothing happened cause.. honestly I don't know if what I saw was true.. did my boss really just get horny from talking to me? I wonder if he thinks I didn't see it.

I start to notice I have a lot more shifts with him. He says hi to me a lot more too. Somehow we run into each other a lot more. I'm really intrigued at this point. I purposely search for him to let him know when I plan on taking my breaks and he always starts a conversation when I tell him. He always tells me to have a good break after we've talked for as long as my break should be. It's like he's trying to interact with me as often as possible.

He asks me to stay later one day and offers to drive me home after for the inconvenience. Before we leave the parking lot, he brings up the thing I never thought we'd talk about..

"So.. I think you may have noticed something different at work. You've seen me a lot more huh?" He laughs.

"I just- I want to apologize. I want to say sorry for the time I called you in my office and I- there was a situation. I want to be professional about this. I thought that scheduling you with myself more and trying to talk to you more would get us to a level where it wouldn't be weird, but-"

He turns away from me.

"I'm going to stop scheduling you when I work because.."

I interrupt with "it's okay! Yah know I get things just happen. It's not a big deal. I didn't tell anyone. It's not weird! It's normal. Really we don't have to talk about-"

"I take my job very seriously but everytime I see you, I imagine that day and start to wish I didn't meet you."

I just sit there stunned. "Oh, um.. yeah I- okay"

"I wish I didn't meet you because then I wouldn't have ever gotten the urge to bend you over my desk and fuck you. If I never met you, I wouldn't have to deal with this fight in my head if I should risk it. Should I risk it? You can tell me. Look, I have an uber pulled up right now, I can get you a ride home, no questions asked, no problems. But if you tell me I should risk it... I'll drive you out of this parking lot, I'll drive you home, but that won't be it. So please. Just tell me you understand what I'm saying and let me know."

I don't even know what to say.

"I'm sorry, I can be softer." He looks at me now. "Do you want me to drive you home or would you rather me get you an uber? Either is definitely okay"

I ask him to drive me home.

He smiles and nods. He drives out of the parking lot and starts heading to a hotel. He parks and hands me a keycard and tells me the number to his room. I head to his room while he waits a moment. I just sit on the bed scrolling on my phone and after about 5 minutes, the door opens. He sets his stuff on the dresser, takes off his shoes, untucks his shirt and stands in front of me to take off his belt. I'm staring up at him with doe eyes at this point. I can't believe he's going to fuck me.

"I need you to promise you'll tell me to stop if you want me to stop. I only wanna fuck you if you want this too. Do you wanna continue?"

I nod and say "yes boss" because I think it's funny.

He smiles. "How about 'yes sir' and you'll be my good boy hmm?"

"Yes sir"

"Good boy"

And it starts. He unbuttons his pants. He takes off our shirts. He takes off my binder. He takes off his boxers. His dick is hard in front of my face. I open my mouth and he puts it in. I start sucking him while he plays with my hair, holding my head at all times.

"Be a good boy, lay face down okay?"

I don't even say anything I just eagerly lay back and flip over.

"You have to arch your back, ass up, I need to take off your-"

I move so quick so he sees how desperate I am for him. He gets me completely naked and pushes my ass back onto the bed. He mounts me and I feel bliss like never before. His cock fills me up perfectly. I love the feeling of his thrusts and his cock pumping in and out of me. The way he holds onto my waist and humps into me. The way he encourages me to touch myself while he fucks me. I've never felt this way before.

He flips me over and starts making out with me while his dick is just rubbing against my clit.

We fuck for hours. He cums inside me. We spit into each others mouths. I cum on his cock.

The night ends with him ordering room service and us making plans to fuck again. We talk about kinks and I feel like we've been doing this for years. Like I just feel so good after everything.

I can't wait for the time my boss fucks me again.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

I know this is asking too much from a series like black clover but I've been rereading the missing children arc and man I really wish we'd gotten some more insight into Neige's psyche. Like... sure he's soft and sweet, but let's not forget he got angry and struck Marie in rage because she OPPOSED HIM. He thought friends were just supposed to blindly agree his every word and immediately resorted to violence when frustrated. Which... I mean okay, it makes sense given that his only friends seemed to be his snowmen and that he was apparently raised by his brother who was verbally, emotionally AND physically abusive. But still! I wish we'd gotten to see his evolution beyond just "oh I was wrong to do all that, I'm going to be good from now on."

And let's not forget that he killed his brother??? He clearly cared about him despite everything??? Why are we brushing over all this???

Logically I know not every side character can get developed but still. Frustrating.

Sorry for the rant, I just needed to get this out and since I always enjoy your insights and you recently talked about the snow baby I thought you'd be the best person to go to. Have a nice evening!

Flamelet I can feel your frustration, and I know (to an extent) how it feels when your blorbo doesn't get the character development, or doesn't get it in a satisfying manner.

Also, don't worry about the rant! I'm all for hearing thoughts and feelings for the show, and the characters, as long as it's, y'know, constructively formulated. Which this is.

And for what it's worth, I think that Neige's emotional growth is stunted to some extent. Like, a lot of the behaviours he displayed, made me think of the word "tantrum", so he has never probably been taught how to handle his own emotions. (Like with striking Marie when she didn't just go along with things. Reminds me of toddlers pushing each other on a sandbox.) It's something that can be observed in people well into their 40s too, but usually it's displayed in other ways. But it's still the temper-tantrum phenomenon.

I would imagine that living with Baro would have caused a severe enough of a trauma for Neige to stay in that mind-set and emotional/psychological state. Defence mechanisms of a kind to not explore those emotions and or handle them in any way, and acting out of impulse. But also it could be a behaviour pattern that Neige learned from Baro. So, if Neige didn't go along Baro's plan, then Baro hit him, or something along those lines. And yes, though Baro did a lot of horrid things to Neige, Neige cared for Baro. Probably out of a "conviction" of a kind to an extent (like "I need to care for him because he's my brother"), but also probably because Baro was the only person Neige had in his life. And without his brother, Neige would have been all alone. And being alone is scary.

A lot of these events were a lot for Neige too, I would imagine, which could have placed him in a kind of a shock, where Baro's death wouldn't have visibly shown in that moment either. Maybe a form of denial? (I'm not a psychologist, so I'm just guessing a lot here) Which is why Neige wasn't shown grieving.

But also the "okay, I will be good from now on" is an intention, which I think would go well with someone who isn't yet equipped to handle emotions, especially complex emotions, at least well. So, without really reflecting on what happened and why; how things ended up where they did, Neige just blatantly decides "I will be good". The emotional growth, and learning the tools to handle his emotions and live without the ""guidance"" of Baro, come later.

Though, granted, as you mentioned, that a lot of this is just due to not being able to focus on every side character. So, this theorization "goes too deep", because things just needed to be wrapped up quickly, and Neige was given a very, very rushed redemption arc.

I really don't know, I'm just making a lot of (more or less) educated speculations ^^'

Thank you for the ask!

#black clover #black clover neige #anon flamelets #I'm so happy you like my little thoughts and insights!

[house-of-mirrors]

@vonlipvig answering on this blog!

4. How easy is it to earn their trust?

Answered here for Orsinio but I'll talk about Samuel! He trusts everyone until he doesn't, and he mistrusts everyone until he does. "Well yes, but actually no." You understand. No one is barred entry from his bar, but if you cause problems, you get physically removed, no strong feelings, simple as that.

15. How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

Orsinio is talkative and impulsive, inclined to speak without thinking first. He can come up with words quickly on the fly, exhibiting a cleverness in arguments and verbal fights. If he has a more serious emotional thing to talk about, he plans out a scripted response but rarely actually winds up using it before breaking to a more spur of the moment thing. When he's stressed, it's common for him to lose speech, so sometimes he does not talk at all. A quiet O means there has been devastation.

Similarly, a Samuel who is talking means there has been even more devastation. Normally, Samuel tries to say as little as possible, unless he's telling a story, and he never phrases anything as a question.

20. If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

I, the author, struggle to explain the difference

Well, almost none of my ocs experience romantic love! Lucretia is the only one that does and is still demiromantic. Aro spectrum for the win.

40. How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

Orsinio is almost always introspecting. He's gotten better with time but still will dwell on mistakes or times he could have done or said or felt something better. He can have a black and white approach to morality at times. Obsesses over things and knows when he's in too deep but can't stop. Considers mental health issues to be a flaw because of the time period and blames it on "a weak constitution." Has a hard time letting people help. Orsinio is very hard on himself. Flaws he forgives in others are not forgiven in himself. He's really trying to get better though, especially since not studying the discordance and getting a handle on the grief process after nemesis. The Neath doesn't have therapy but does have cosmic horror vibe checks.

D. Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

When I first started playing, Orsinio used to have brown hair. He wore goggles everywhere and then his design got spectacles for outside the lab. I imagined him in adventurous gear, like belts and pouches and things, before switching to the more elegant outfits of the late 19th century, though he's always had a cloak. It was part of his character arc when he got a cane, when he got white streaks in his hair, and when he started to dress in heavier layers. In the future, he'll get a beard, and as he recovers from trauma will gain some weight. I've been seriously struggling with health since I started playing in 2020 so there's a bit of projection there but yeah. He deserves healing. Dilf Orsinio is endgame.

Everyone else has pretty much stayed the same! Orsinio was my first when I didn't know a lot about the game or how I wanted to roleplay, so he went through the most changes.

E. Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

We would be able to relate on disabilities and love for literature and music, but I'm not sure we would be able to get on more than that. Orsinio would annoy me with his lack of self awareness and reluctance to get help. I have self preservation instincts. We can both be stubborn and inflexible in thinking at times. If we were just meeting for an afternoon in a coffee shop, sure we'd get along. A passionate discussion about Shakespeare and astrophysics, and then I tell him about the marvels of the MRI.

Miles is a no, absolutely not. Ignoring all the robber baron things and dark magic, they have a social media influencer personality. They would dislike me for shopping at thrift stores and I'd make them wash one dish and they'd cry.

Samuel yes, totally. I sit at the bar and talk for an hour while he nods and provides interesting drink recipes. Great time.

Captain Min, sure, I'll be a space adventure story side character and can be very useful doing ledgers and maps

Lucretia is one I'm not sure how to answer. We're both pretty reserved. I think I could have a friendship with her like I have with some of my friends from grad school who are >25 years older than me. Pleasant and encouraging on both sides with a strong awareness of me being young for her to be my parent slakdsfdls

#thanks for the ask #oc: orsinio #oc: samuel #<3 #oc: miles #oc: lucretia #oc: the captain #new oc tags

[izzy-b-hands]

"Izzy! You've come to see my work," Stede works to keep his voice even as he clings onto the ladder. "Impressed?"

He watches Izzy peer over the side of the ship, brow furrowed.

"Can I ask what it is you did?" Izzy frowns.

"It's obvious!"

Izzy nods, then shakes his head. "Gonna need a hint."

"Well, I had some props that would have helped," Stede says. "Here's a hint: art."

"Did...did you try to repaint the side of the ship?"

Stede nods. "Lost the paint and brush though."

"I'd imagine," Izzy remarks dryly. "Love, did you consider waiting till we'd stopped moving?"

"I had, but then I thought if I was careful I could do most of it now, and that leaves us all more time to explore at the next port!"

Izzy sighs. "That's...wait. You're soaked through; how long have you been out here?"

"Only a few hours," Stede smiles to hide his chattering teeth. The waves are a stinging sort of cold today, but it doesn't sting so badly now that he's cold enough to feel numbed.

"For fuck's sake," Izzy scoffs and sheds his vest. His sword and belt go next; Stede can hear the metal of the blade smacking the deck and the rounded hilt rolling with the motion of the ship. "Edward!"

Stede hears a faint "What?!" from Ed.

"We need blankets and tea!"

"We have some already!"

Izzy rolls his eyes. "Hang on. Don't stop hanging on, I suppose."

"I can't feel my fingers," Stede says, staring at them pale and locked around the rope of the ladder. "I'm not going anywhere for now."

"New tea and clean blankets and towels, Ed! Now!"

"Why?"

Stede fails to stifle a giggle.

"Is it not enough that I'm shouting about it? To suggest there's due cause for you to hurry the fuck up with it and help?"

"You shout about lots of things! Most things, actually!"

Stede leans into the ship, avoiding the wet dripping paint as he hides his laughter.

"Forget it," Izzy mutters. "I'll come get you, and make more tea, and get a warm bath ready, and-"

He scoffs and grumbles his way to Stede, then works Stede's fingers off the ladder to wrap around his waist instead. "Don't let go."

The cold sinks in worse once he's away from the constant thrashing of the sea, over the railing and shaking on the deck.

"I've got-" Ed walks up and drops the clean towels in his hands. "What the fuck happened here?"

"Ship maintenance," Stede supplies. "Painting is done!"

He pretends not to notice Izzy gently shaking his head in response. As far as he's concerned, at least a decent portion of it is done, and that's a success.

A success that's making him shiver fiercely enough to hurt, but still. Success.

"Honestly," Izzy grumbles as he pulls off his shirt and wraps it around Stede. "Could have gotten yourself killed."

"It does look nice," Ed notes as he peers over the railing. "We won't have many touch ups to do."

"Ed," Izzy sighs.

"What? He did well!"

"He'll catch his death!"

"Both things can be true!"

Stede reaches for the abandoned towels, only to have his hand gently smacked away while Ed and Izzy pile them on.

"Lucius is in our room; I'll have him run a bath," Ed says. "I'll get tea and have Roach make something warm. Soup? Soup."

"As soon as I'm dry and warm I'll be fine," Stede mumbles, but from under the thick towels he can't seem to be heard.

"Out of the wet clothes first, then into a robe and more blankets," Izzy adds, seemingly talking to himself as much as them. "Maybe ask Roach if there's anything he can do for his hands; look at his knuckles-"

Eventually they lift him up and lead him into what he presumes is their quarters, but he can't see beyond the towels tossed over his head in a caring panic.

"I'm just wet and cold," Stede protests as he finally manages to free himself from most of the towels, leaving them on the floor. "This is a bit dramatic, really. Excessive, even."

Ed shakes his head. "Not really. How many robes do we have clean?"

"I can only wear one at a time!" Stede laughs. "Honestly-"

"They're all clean," Izzy interrupts. "Where the fuck is Lucius?"

"Taking in the scene," Lucius says awkwardly from the nearby chair. "Are you panicking so much over him you didn't notice me?"

"No," Izzy blushes.

"Aww," Lucius smiles. "Adorable. Anyway, they're right. It's cold and going to get colder soon, and cold can absolutely kill a person. I've watched you nearly die a few times now, don't really want to watch you add another near death experience to the collection."

Stede frowns, or tries to despite his chattering teeth. "I really think-"

"I'll get a warm bath ready," Lucius interrupts. "Anything else we need?"

"Soup and something for his hands from Roach," Ed replies. "I'll get the robes from the auxiliary wardrobe, and Iz, can you get him out of the wet clothes?"

"This is getting very silly," Stede fusses. "I hope you both know. I can undress myself!"

"Your fingers are still curled over from holding the ladder," Izzy notes.

"Ah," Stede looks to his hands. "Did not realize that. Well..."

"You're not getting a choice here," Izzy continues. "We're looking after you until you're warm and looking better."

"I would enjoy it, were it me," Lucius says as he stands and strides towards the door. "Just my two cents!"

"I would too," Ed says. "Also, Izzy's right. You need looking after, and we love you, so we're looking after you."

He's heard them say that they love him many times before now, but he still blushes to hear it again.

"There we go," Ed smiles. "Now, I'll be back with robes, and let Izzy help you."

"Is he going to throw all the robes over me?" Stede asks as Ed heads into the wardrobe. "He is, isn't he?"

A towel drops back over his head from Izzy's hand, which feels like answer enough.

--

"Fine," Stede grumbles. "I do feel better."

He's held down on his chair by the many robes tossed over him, his hands barely free so he can eat the (extremely good) soup Roach made.

At his feet, Izzy is still persistently trying to warm them, rubbing gently with one of the few dry towels left.

Ed is at the opposite end, playing with his hair as he brushes it.

"That said, you could both stop and have some soup with me."

Both sets of hands pause at once, and he has to fight off a giggle. No one is immune to the scent of Roach's cooking, especially the soups like this one.

"Only if you're really feeling better," Ed leans down and kisses his head. "Then I suppose I could be swayed to sit for some soup."

"Don't even start," Stede continues to Izzy. "I know you haven't eaten much. And this has dumplings in. Roach's handmade dumplings, that I know you love..."

Izzy sets aside the towel. "A break might not be bad. But if you start to feel cold at any point-"

"I will ask for some stockings or socks, and you can get me some to wear instead of killing your knees while rubbing my feet," Stede interrupts. "Lovely though that has been, thank you."

They help him move to the middle of the couch, joining him on each open side and reaching for the small tureen of soup on the table in front of them.

"I should paint the ship more often," he continues. "Look at what it ends in! Good food, being cozy with you two..."

He knows what he's starting, and he giggles and lifts another bit of dumpling to his mouth while they sigh and snuggle in and beg him to do anything but that.

#text post #steddyhands #stizzy #to be fair stede did get a lot done and you know how? Mary and Doug's painting advice #they figured it would be done when the ship was drier and docked but ya know #stede doesn't let things such as common sense stand in the way of success and i support him because ive Been There lmao #finally got this wip done holy shit lmaooo #long post

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Familiar Faces - Dinner and Discoveries Part 2

As Stefan stared at Damon across the Gilbert living room, taking no pleasure in Elijah’s sudden illness but relieved all the same as it kept him away from Damon for a little longer at least.

“Where’s Elijah?” Caroline asked after Bonnie and Elena joined them in the living room.

“He’s not feeling well.” Bonnie explained as Elena sent a worried look over her shoulder.

“Oh no! I thought he was doing so well.” Caroline said sadly

“What’s this?” Damon smiled at them all, Stefan was pretty sure Bonnie had also noticed the way Damon had frozen at Elijah’s name.

“Elena’s brother, Elijah, has these episodes where he’s sick.” Caroline started to explain. when Elena cut her off by reminding them of the football team, which distracted her.

Stefan joined in, telling himself he could worry over the fact that Elijah apparently remembered his death; later, now he needed to keep Damon from looking further into Elijah.

Caroline bringing the talk to Elena’s parents' death didn’t help but the direction that followed may have been the worst thing for Stefan.

“In fact, Stefan and I have watched almost every single person we've ever cared about die.” Damon broadcasted to the room looking at him.

“Stefan just told us about your brother.” Elena said cutting off what Damon had been leading towards, however Stefan could take a moment of relief as Damon froze as the words registered.

“What?” Damon asked, the mask of civility vanishing, as he stared at Stefan.

“We don't need to get into that right now, Damon.” he tried but Damon ignored him.

“What did Stefan tell you about our brother?” The words contained a cold threat that seemed unnoticed by the others, but Stefan hadn’t heard that tone since they had been alive, once only appearing around their father.

“He died when he was nine.” Elena told him slowly.

“He what?” Damon asked but Stefan heard the slight crack in his voice, Stefan wanted to look away but he was pinned by accusing eyes.

“You didn’t know?” Elena asked in confusion 

“I was told our father had sent him away, just before his own death.” Damon explained through gritted teeth, “Stefan?”

“I’ll explain.” he promised even as the thought of doing so, pained him.

“How about you do that now?” Damon told him standing up, detaching Caroline from him “Excuses us ladies.” he told them as he stepped through to the kitchen.

“Stefan?” Elena called before he could leave, big brown eyes looking at him with concern, he shook his head he didn’t have the words to explain any of this.

“What happened?” Damon asked, voice empty as he joined him in the kitchen, Stefan brought himself time as he moved himself to stand in front of Elijah’s door.

“I went back home,” he told him, looking at Damon who- in that moment looked like the brother he had once loved, looking the way he had every time Elijah’s illness had convinced father to call a priest.

It was that sight that caused him to falter as before he could get the truth out, finally admit what he had done, another lie escaped,

“Father told him we'd died, he didn’t take the news well.” The memory of a living teenage Elijah glaring at him joined the image he normally had of the blood covered nine year old, he was suddenly hyper aware of the sleeping boy just behind the door behind him. 

Eli had always loved Damon more, and he knows Damon loved Eli.

“He never left here.” Damon sounded and looked gutted, Stefan suddenly wondered what life he had imagined Elijah lived.

“I buried him,” he confessed “in his favourite blanket, after i- after.”

“I thought he had gotten to grow.” Damon said quietly, a pain that Stefan hadn’t heard from him in over a century, humanity that he claimed to no longer have almost visible. “I should have known better,” the humanity was gone by the time he looked back up pinning him with cold curious eyes “but why would you tell them when you’ve kept it from me?”

Stefan froze.

“Stefan?” Damon asked again.

“Damon.” he began forcing the words out of his mouth, it was better to warn him. “Elijah Gilbert looks like Eli”

“What?”

“The same way Elena looks like Katherine.” he explained, “Elijah looks the way ours would have if he-”

“Had lived, had grown.” Damon finished and Stefan didn’t like the sudden intense look in his brother’s eyes “their twins right, that makes him seventeen.”

“Leave him alone.” he warned, suddenly more concerned.

“You really think I’d hurt someone who looks like Eli.” Damon looked almost hurt by it, before the hurt vanished, “Caroline mentioned episodes, he has them as well, dreams too i-”

“Damon. Eli’s dead, Elijah-” Stefan tried again only to be surprised when Damon suddenly agreed.

“Yes, yes, fine.” Damon gave in too quickly for Stefan’s comfort.

“Damon. I mean it.”

“Come one, we’re being rude.” he called as he returned to the living room. “Sorry ladies.”

“Are you alright?” Elena asked, looking between them.

“I’ll get there,” Damon told her before Stefan could speak as he sank down to sit next to Caroline,  “I knew he had died, just thought he was older.”

“How didn- sorry it’s none of our business.” Bonnie started before she stopped herself.

—-

Stefan was right, Elena was different from Katherine, but that was suddenly rather low on his concerns.

“Somethings could matter again.” Elena had said, open, selfless and positive in a way Katherine hadn’t been, and he had replied negatively, even as the words kept echoing around his head.

He had been trying hard not to think about it too much while in the house. The house where a boy with the same name and who looked the same as his dead little brother was sleeping just a room from him.

Damon was soo very tempted to turn his emotions off, his feelings at the moment were almost choking him. 

Grief at Elijah’s death hitting him freshly, or maybe it was grief for the short but happy lives he had imagined his littlest brother had, he knew the current Salvatore descended from their bastard brother but he had thought it was due to their father's will bypassing him.

Had hoped Elijah had managed to outlive father the way he had their mother but no- he had been dead and buried before Damon had ever taken his first taste of human blood and lost his humanity.

Stefan lied to Damon, over and over, he could almost understand, he wouldn’t have wanted to have had to bury Eli, to tell Stefan the news but he would have. Instead Stefan had left Elijah to be forgotten and unmourned.

Worse than that, than the aching grief was the growing almost hope.

He remembered Elijah’s sicknesses the days he held his little brother’s hand while father refused to let Stefan in.

But more than that he remembered Elijah’s dreams; the ones he would whisper to him about another life, siblings he lost, a niece he raised, runes he used to draw but would cry when questioned on them because he didn’t remember what they meant.

He had questioned Katherine once, at the way she seemed to be so careful around his littlest brother, at her shock and almost fear the first time Eli has called her Katerina.

“He reminds me of someone I once knew.” She had confessed, watching Elijah from a distance as he read under his favourite tree, “When i was the human and he was-” she had trailed off before she finished and Damon had been distracted when Eli, getting up, had stumbled.

Ten years after he had left Mystic falls, when Elijah should have just been turning twenty, he had found himself in a gallery only to find a portrait of Elijah, in his thirties.

Of course he had gone looking for the artist, found out she had died but it was being sold by her cousin, a cousin who had told him the story of the man in the painting.

The uncle that had taken in his nieces, who had supported and raised them despite his poor health, poor health that sounded a lot like Eli’s episodes, who was haunted by nightmares of blood and another life, like Eli.

Whose death happened around nine months before Eli had been born.

He may not have believed it if he hadn’t remembered Elijah telling him about his niece.

Who he had introduced to painting, who had getting really good at it in his dream, with bright childish excitement when he was six, he had brushed it off as an overactive imagination.

He had kept brushing off his dreams and nightmares as such until he had discovered the truth of vampires and more being part of the world they lived.

He had tried to buy the painting when it was sold only to be quickly outbid, it was one of the biggest surprises of the auction, a ‘plain’ portrait from a lesser known local artist fetching the ending bid that priceless masterpieces made.

Damon would have been angry but he reminded himself that the woman who had ended up in tears as the bid rose, was his little brother’s niece once, he would have been pleased she was going to be set for life.

Now there was another Elijah born in the same place, with a similar illness. He had stolen a look at the photos around the living room.

His littlest brother, clearly healthier, the joys of modern medicine, arm in arm with mini Katherine and a smaller dark haired boy, a pair of loving parents draped over them in one photo.

At least Eli was luckier on the parent front this time.

He had another reason to get Katherine, answers he hadn’t thought to push for before.

He had two brothers to deal with now.

#tvd #fic #Elena Gilbert #Bonnie Bennett #caroline forbes #stefan salvatore #damon salvatore #Elijah Mikaelson #tvd fanfiction #au- Familiar faces #the vampire dairies au #fanfiction #the vampire diaries

[cinderella-ish]

(heads up, this post mentions death and suicide)

I started writing Bloom Within Us about 8 or 9 months ago, almost a year after losing a grandparent, as one way to deal with my grief from that loss. I hadn't written any fiction at all since high school, and I'd never written a story of more than ten pages (double-spaced), so it was very much a surprise to me that, despite being only about 2/3 complete, Bloom Within Us sits at over 220k words and nearly 600 pages. Writing it has led me down a rabbit hole, learning about the craft of fiction writing, and I'm so touched to hear it's resonated with readers. When I started, I truly thought I'd be lucky to get even one reader.

Though Bloom Within Us is based on a tragic premise (what if Tohru died after falling from the cliff?), it's meant to be a hopeful story. Kyo has faced traumatic loss after traumatic loss; would he really be able to survive losing Tohru after he told her about her mother?

I think the answer is maybe. He'd be devastated, for sure, and I don't think he'd be okay for a long while. However, even though it would be incredibly painful, this would be the first time in his life where he'd be mourning as part of a community. He'd have people there to support him, to grieve alongside him, and to tell him it's not his fault.

Kazuma was all but a stranger when Kyo's mother died, and he never knew what caused Kyo to lose all hope when Kyoko died. Kyo had no one who really understood, though Kazuma certainly tried, and probably saved Kyo's life in both instances.

But I imagine, if Kyo were able to mourn Tohru properly, alongside his cousins and friends and adoptive father, he might be okay one day. Maybe there's a way (or multiple ways) things could align that would allow him to move forward, and that's the path I've tried to take in my story.

In a lot of ways, writing about dark or tragic subjects is my way of trying to find (or create) hope. Things can feel unbearable, but they won't always feel that way. And while they do, you don't have to feel that way by yourself. There's always someone who can understand at least some of what you're experiencing.

For Kyo, whose arc really revolved around him choosing to live (both figuratively and literally), I think it would be really powerful to see that even after losing Tohru, he could one day be okay, and maybe even have a life he loves.

So, in many ways, I hope Bloom Within Us comes across as having an anti-su*cide message. That is my intent, along with the other ideas I'm trying to explore, such as the universal nature of loss, or the importance of having community during challenging times.

When I learned that a younger cousin of mine ended their life this weekend, it brought up a lot of feelings. I wasn't particularly close with this cousin. I wasn't "not close," either; they just tended to keep a distance, and I was anxious that I'd come on too strong, so I let them remain at a distance.

Hearing now about the things that felt insurmountable to my cousin, I wish we'd been able to connect. They'd felt insurmountable to me, too, at that age, but I made it through to the other side. And I know so many people who went through a crisis in their late 20s only to emerge from that crisis with a better understanding of themselves, and a life they actually want. Life can and does get better, for so many of us. I think it would've gotten better for my cousin, too, if they were still here. I wish they'd been able to hang on at least until they could see that, too.

I don't know yet if I'll need a break from writing, especially writing a story that deals with grief and suicide. I don't know if I'll need a break from fandom or social media. Right now, I've been going about everything more or less as usual, and that's been working for me, but that could change. I am okay, and I know I'll be okay, even though I'll be sad for a while. I have a good support network and I'm in a good place despite everything. If I disappear for a bit, it's because I'm relying on my IRL support network. ❤️

#not fruits basket #personal #grief #suicide tw #tw death #death #death tw #suicide #tw suicide