#even if i am a squeamish little guy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strang3lov3 · 11 months

Text

Tis’ But a Scratch

Kinda brat tamer/dom! Joel x stubborn fem Reader

Summary: when you’re injured and refuse to accept Joel’s help, he decides to adjust your attitude.

W/C: 4.3k

Warnings: brat tamer joel kinda, dom!joel, smut, rough sex, blowjobs, orgasm denial. Slight dubcon. Degradation. A little bit of fluff, implied age gap, spanking, cream pie, a bit of come play. Descriptions of injuries, but not too bad! I’m super squeamish and was able to stomach it for the most part.

A/N: based on this request by @speckledemerald ! I had a lot of fun with it and did not expect it to take this turn, but you guys know me well enough to know I’m a sucker for some rough Joel smut!

Master list

As always, comments and reblogs are very appreciated. If you like this story, let me know! I am thankful for each and every one of you who support my work ❤️

The slam of the kitchen door behind you makes you jump, you feel your blood running cold. Joel’s an angry guy, but you’ve never been directly on the receiving end of his anger. At least, not this much anger. He is fucking pissed.

“Coulda’ gotten us fuckin’ killed. You realize that, right?” Joel spits out at you, chucking his backpack on the kitchen island sharply. You startle at the sound. His eyes are piercing and full of anger when you look at him. Hatred, even. You feel your heart drop to your stomach, fearful and full of guilt. “You never watch your fuckin’ back. Always dawdling or somethin’ else. You don’t take anything seriously, do you?”

He’s right. You know he is. “We’re fine, though. I was handling it,” You don’t know if your words are meant to be a comfort to him or yourself.

You and Joel were in an old store on patrol together, going through it to see what supplies you could scrounge up. Joel was constantly scolding you for not keeping up with him, not watching your back at all. He was sick of babysitting you, he told you. Too old for it, he said. You rolled your eyes every time he complained.

So yeah, handling it. That’s what you’re sticking with. When a raider snuck up behind you and your back was pinned to him in a bone crushing embrace, his knife pressed into your side. And all you could do was kick and scream for Joel and thrash your body. Handling it.

“Yeah?” he asks you, his tone sarcastic and full of venom. “Had it all under control, is that right?” Joel is pacing around the house, making sure there’s no other raiders or clickers. This is a known safe house, far away from any civilization.

You and Joel spent plenty of time here together, often playing cards or just talking. The last time you were holed up here together, he watched you closely. The way your eyes traced his face, how they traced every line and curve of his muscled body. You thought you hid your desire, but Joel knew better. He knew just how you craved him.

“Yeah, that’s right,” you spit back, enunciating your words harshly. You’re lying, you know it and so does Joel. The truth is, if Joel hadn’t shot the raider in the head and dragged you out of there, you don’t know if you’d be alive to be having this argument right now. But you’ll never tell Joel that.

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be bleedin’ a goddamn river into the fuckin’ floor right now,”

Your brows furrow. “What are you–” you trail off, eyes darting to your side. You didn’t think the raider actually stabbed you. You lift your shirt, and nothing. But then it catches your eye.

The adrenaline must have kept you from realizing what happened to you. The raider managed to knife the top of your left thigh pretty good, a long cut all the way across. You couldn’t tell how deep it went or what. “Fuck,” you mumble.

“Blood everywhere. You know, that’s pretty fuckin’ close to your artery, genius,”

Don’t remind me, you think. Blood was never your strong suit. You press your hand into your thigh, your eyes flutter shut and your breaths become shallow when you see the liquid crimson painting your palm. Quickly, you walk to the couch in the living room and sit down with your head between your knees. You’re getting dizzy. “Just a scratch,” you mumble, to him or yourself, you don’t know.

“Get back here,” Joel barks at you. “You’re hurt. And I ain’t finished with you.”

You really don’t need Joel punishing you more than you’re already doing to yourself. You can’t take any more of his disappointed and angry looks. Any more of his words that cut so deep inside of your body.

“Fuck off,” you whisper, trying to compose yourself. Your vision is going spotty as you unbutton your jeans and push them down your legs, wincing as the rough fabric brushes over your wound. Your head is getting fuzzier, and Joel’s shouting something about other raiders being there at the store but you can barely understand him. He sounds miles away and underwater.

Joel follows you into the living room, reaching for your leg once he meets you at the dingy old sofa. It’s a dusty rose color with yellow and blue flowers. You kick his hand away and grit your teeth at the action. It fucking hurts. “Leave me alone, Joel. I’m fine,” your voice is weak and your eyes are getting glassy. Your lips lose their color. “I’m sorry. I don’t wanna talk about this right now.” you pant.

“Oh, shit,” Joel whispers in realization, watching you lose yourself. He’s seen it all before. “You’re faintin’ again.”

Again.

You really didn’t handle blood well.

Once, Joel accidentally sliced his hand open trying to open an old can of fruit. You watched the entire thing and fainted right in front of him, ended up falling flat on your face. You have a scar on your chin from that night, now.

He spent the evening trying to bring you back to earth, feeding you the old fruit to get your blood sugar back up. Grumbling something about how you need to get it together if you’re gonna continue to be his patrol partner.

“No, I’m not,” your voice is barely above a whisper. You can’t admit defeat, admit that you should have been more conscious of your surroundings back at that old store, or else you wouldn’t be moments away from unconsciousness right now. You absolutely cannot let Joel win.

Joel lets out a deep sigh and crouches in front of you, trying to remove your hand from your thigh. You fight him, still. He can’t wrap his head around why you’re being so. Fucking. Stubborn.

“Stop it, Joel. I can take care of myself,”

Joel just grabs your wrist again, moving it away. You don’t have the energy to fight him off this time. “Let me see,” he mumbles. He takes in your injury, then leaves to grab his backpack. Once he’s situated, he begins his work. “Don’t need to be so proud. You’re hurt.”

He begins by pulling out a bottle of alcohol. You reach forward to take it from him, do it yourself. Deny him the satisfaction of picking up the pieces of the mess you’ve made of yourself, yet again.

He glares at you. “Knock it off,” he says gruffly. But you don’t, you just wiggle and avoid his touch. Pull away from him and push into his stomach with your foot. “Quit your squirmin’, for fuck’s sake. Too goddamn stubborn, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Your cheeks go red at the pet name, your squirming comes to a halt. Joel takes notice of the effect his words have on you. “So that’s what it takes to get you to behave, hm? Call you sweetheart?”

He’s testing the waters…curious.

“No,” you lie. Yes.

There is an immediate change in the room, a tension between you and Joel in the atmosphere. It’s palpable, like you could reach out and grab it. Feel it between your fingers, even. Hot and heavy and impossible to ignore.

Joel reaches forward, covering your eyes with his hand. “Keep those eyes closed f’me, sweetheart. Don’t look. That’s it, now,” He removes his hand and your eyes are still closed, you know better than to look at the gore of your injured thigh. He continues, “Need to pull these pants down some more, alright?” You nod lazily in response, he pulls your pants down your legs and nudges your thighs apart. The cut goes further inward than either of you realized.

Joel gets to work then, dumping a bit of the alcohol over your wound. You groan and cry at the pain. It brings you back from your state of near-unconsciousness. “Fuck, Joel,”

He tries to ignore the little moans and fuck, Joel’s you let out as he disinfects your cut. “I know, I know,” he croons at you. “It’ll be over soon. Promise.”

He reaches for a rag and dumps some of his canteen’s water on it, then gently scrubs away the blood. He starts on the outside of your thigh and washes the blood off of your skin.

And then it happens. White-hot sparks of electricity deep in your core.

He reaches the inside of your thigh and accidentally brushes your center, covered only by the thin cotton of your panties. You let out a gasp in response.

“Sorry,” Joel mumbles. “Your wound is real close to yourself there. Might happen again.”

“No, it’s okay. I trust you,” you reply. And you do, but a part of you is hoping he touches you again.

“Doin’ so good f’me,” he mumbles, and his words have an intoxicating effect on you. Does he know what he’s doing to you? How he’s making you fall to pieces?

It does happen again. And again. And each time, you let out little gasps and moans. You almost wonder if he’s doing it on purpose, but you don’t mind. You wonder if he knows how aroused you’re getting with every brush of his fingertips.

He works for a while longer, then wraps up your wound with gauze. “All better now, sweetheart. I was feelin’ nice for some reason and didn’t torture ya with stitches, but I’ll check on it later and we might need to do some. Depends on how it’s holdin’ up, but I’ll be gentle if it comes to that,” He says softly, apologetically. His words are his olive branch extended to you, his apology for being too harsh with you in your injured state.

“Oh, how kind,” you bite back. And just like that, your feistiness has returned, you’re right back to being your stubborn and sarcastic self just like before. And you don’t really know why you build your walls back up, but you do. You’re not gonna take any pity from him. His words echo in your mind. Too proud. “I would’ve been fine without all your help, you know. And I won’t need any when we get back, so drop it.”

Joel’s soft gaze leaves and is replaced by another fiery look of offense. “Oh, fuck you. Jesus, would it kill you to say thanks?”

“Fuck you!” you spit. Joel blinks when your saliva hits his face, he wipes it from his cheek, then examines it on his palm. Slowly, he meets your eyes, his gaze dark and lustful. The tension in the air strengthens, you feel your heart begin to beat rapidly. You didn’t mean to spit on him, but you’re gonna stand your ground and not take any of his shit.

Joel rises to his feet, so big and radiating power and masculinity above you. “You wanna try that again?” he asks, his voice is low and dark, lacking any semblance of amusement.

“I, fu-” you stutter out. Your confidence is beginning to dwindle as you choke out, “Don’t need your fucking help. Don’t need to be a part of your fucking savior complex.”

Joel laughs dryly. You’ve really pissed him off now, you can see the pure hatred in his eyes. They’re icy cold, piercing right through you. “You’d better swallow your pride before I shove it down your throat myself, sweetheart. Sick of this attitude, you fuckin’ brat,”

“Make me,” you retort, challenging him. “How’re you gonna do that?”

You wonder just how far he’ll push you. What boundaries he’s gonna test…

“I don’t think you wanna find out, sweetheart. Not gonna be nice about it, I promise you that,”

“Big surprise,” you snarl, “There’s not one nice bone in your body. You’re a fucking ass–”

“Gonna start by fuckin’ that pretty mouth of yours, teach you a lesson,” he interrupts you. His voice is cool and collected, you watch his hands make their way to his front, he palms his growing erection. He eyes you questioningly for a moment, using them to ask you sincerely if this is okay. If it’s too much. You nod, understanding his silent question. He nods back.

You open your mouth to speak, but Joel wastes no time shutting you up. “You suck my dick like a good girl, and maybe I’ll consider makin’ you come. But I’m not feelin’ very generous yet,”

“What are you talking–” you trail off, watching Joel unbuckle his belt with his swift and deftly moving hands.

“You’re drippin’ for me, darlin’. Didn’t think I noticed? Could practically taste it,”

Your body betrays you and you let out a whimper at the thought of Joel’s tongue in your pussy. How he’d explore your folds with the firm and wet muscle. Joel chuckles in amusement, freeing his cock from the constraint of his jeans. He takes one imposing step in front of you, his thick and hard cock is held loosely between his thumb and his pointer and middle fingers.

“Not so tough now, hm? Not when your pleasure’s on the table, I see. Selfish fuckin’ brat,”

“Joel,” you moan. He shuts you up by shoving his cock in your mouth in one swift motion, your lips part around the soft and smooth flesh of his tip. He’s slow at first, making sure you can take it. When he’s satisfied with your readiness, he shoves it as far down your throat as you can comfortably take.

“Fuck, that’s all you needed. God, sweetheart. You’re so much nicer with my cock in your mouth, you know that?” he groans, his hands finding your scalp. He tangles his fingers through your hair and pulls gently, when you moan he tugs your hair roughly.

You hum in response, wrapping your hands around his upper thighs and squeezing his ass. He pushes them away with force. “You just don’t get it do you, you poor dumb thing? You take what I give you now, girl. Don’t be greedy,”

His words send pangs of desire through your body, you’ve never been so aroused in your life. His cock is hard and heavy on your tongue, and with each powerful thrust of his hips your nose nudges that tuft of dark hair surrounding his member.

“Fuck,” he hisses through gritted teeth. Your eyes are blown wide, tears pricking the corners. There’s spit dribbling down your chin and you look completely fucking ruined.

The dull ache between your thighs grows stronger, and ever so subtly move your hand to your center. Or so you think. Just before you can press your fingers to your clit, Joel pulls his dick from your mouth and grabs your wrist in a vice grip.

“God, you just don’t fucking learn, do you? I told you to suck my dick like a good girl,”

“I did, Joel,” you whine in protest. You move your other hand to your center in hopes of relieving the pressure, but he grabs that one too.

“God, you’re dumb. No, you didn’t. You didn’t listen, didn’t take what I was givin’,” he yanks you up by your wrists, drags you to the arm of the couch and shoves you. Hard. “So I’m gonna take what I want from ya now. And you can cry and beg as much as you want, and I still won’t let you come. ‘Cause you can’t follow simple directions.”

Your stomach drops, you realize just how serious he is. He’s gonna use you and toss you aside, leave you crying for release. “Joel,” you cry. He’s breaking you down.

“No point in cryin’ now. Just shut your mouth like a good girl and take my cock,”

You move to face him, but he turns you back in place. “Bend over,” he demands.

When you don’t jump at his command, he shoves you again, forcing your chest down into the arm of the couch. He roughly tugs down the fabric of your panties, and then you feel the sting of his big hand striking your ass, red hot pain spreading over your cheeks. “Fuck,” you yelp in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Shut up,” he tells you sternly, massaging the stinging flesh of your ass. It’s a gentle reminder he’s still here. “God, you’re stupid. Poor thing. How many times do I have to tell you to be quiet?”

You let out a moan in protest and he smacks your ass again. “Spread your legs. No back talking, now. Be a good girl and open wide for me. That’s it,” he croons as you shuffle your feet apart.

He drags his cock through your folds, purposely stopping just before your clit, denying you any sort of relief. He slips the tip of his cock in your pussy, then without warning, pulls you onto his cock. Hard.

You cry out and he shushes you, reminding you to keep quiet. He repeats the motion again and you bite your lip to keep your noises suppressed.

He fucks you with both hands on your waist, fingertips digging into your skin, surely decorating you with bruises. The room is filled with the noises of his heavy breathing and skin slapping skin, as well as the wet squelching of your pussy.

“Fu-” you start, moving a hand to cover your mouth.

“That’s it,” he breathes in approval. “Quiet.”

You bite back moans, feeling your stomach tighten. You’re getting close, just need a bit more.

His cock begins to pulse inside of you, his once calculated thrusts now sloppy and frenzied. “Feel that?” He asks. “Gettin’ close, now. Almost over, sweetheart. See what this pussy’s doin’ to me?”

You can’t help the wail that falls from your lips. You’re in agony, you need to come. And after this, you don’t know if you’ll be able to relieve yourself. Your fingers will never compare to his cock, you’ll never be able to match the pace or power with which he fucks you.

“S’matter, sweetheart?” He taunts you. “Breakin’ the rules again, you know. Do I need to remind you how good girls act?” He rubs a hand over your ass in warning, tapping his fingers on the swollen and still stinging flesh.

You shake your head no. It’s painful, the way he’s punching into that sweet spot deep inside you. So close yet so far from your orgasm.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I want you to nod your head yes or shake your head no, got it? Still don’t want you makin’ any noise,”

You nod in anticipation of what he’s going to ask of you. He’s still fucking you at a punishing pace.

“Been thinkin’ that you’d look real pretty comin’ all over my cock. Don’t you think?”

You nod again.

“Unfortunately, baby, you’re not allowed to. Which is a goddamn shame, of course,” he mumbles, his thrusts coming to a slowed pace.

He continues, “I was thinking if you said the magic words, I might make it all better for you,”

You whimper at the prospect of release, then quickly swallow your moans.

“You know those words, right baby? Please, thank you. Manners,”

You nod again, pushing your ass back into his groin. He swats at you with his hand, but not terribly hard. Just a gentle warning.

“Maybe all of this could have been avoided if you said ‘thank you Joel’. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this position, practically beggin’ me to let you come,”

You nod in response, not willing to argue any longer. “Say thank you for my cock down your throat. Did you a favor, anyway. God knows you needed to shut up,”

“Joel, fuck. I need to come,” you rasp out, breaking his rule.

“Say thank you, sweetheart. Come on now, mind your manners,” God, how sexy and low his voice is.

You don’t thank him. Not yet. You won’t thank him, not until he breaks down every ounce of fight left in you.

He slaps your ass once more, then moves his hand to your clit, gingerly rubbing light circles into the sensitive bud. Teasing you. “Thank you, Joel,” he instructs you to say. “Thank you for your cock.”

You ignore him still.

He pulls you off his cock, whips you around to face him and looks deep into your eyes, notching the tip of his cock in your pussy once more. He begins pushing all the way in. “Say it.” He says in a taunting tone, elongating his words. His thumb is on your clit again, and he’s thrusting in and out of you slowly. “I’m givin’ you an out here. Just say those words f’me.”

You groan in frustration. Are you really going to give in?

“Come on, sweetheart. Know you need it. Look at the fucking mess you’re makin’, needy thing. Soakin’ my cock,”

And there it is again, that sickeningly sweet pet name he so affectionately calls you. Fuck it, you decide.

“Thank you,” you whisper, finally. Repeating what he wanted to hear you say for him.

“For what?”

The words kind of just slip out of your mouth, “For taking care of me,” you admit.

Joel’s movements falter, and he looks at you with a puzzled expression. It’s not at all what he thought you were going to say, what he wanted you to say, but nonetheless he’s pleased that he’s managed to fuck away some of your pride. He just smirks knowingly, pulls you in close and kisses you.

It’s sweet and slow, he’s taking his time massaging your tongue with his own. “Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he murmurs against your lips, fucking you again. He’s rubbing concentrated circles into your clit and continues. “Not so hard, hm? Just listen to me and let me take care of ya. However I want.”

You nod feverishly and pull yourself closer to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His skin is hot and sweaty under your fingertips, the circles he’s tracing into your clit have your stomach tightening and your face contouring in pleasure. You’re right there, he can feel it. He’s not far behind.

“You earned it, baby. Let go now,” he whispers, hot breath tickling your ear.

And with that, you come harder than you ever have. His ministrations on your clit don’t stop, he keeps fucking you through it. “Joel,” you moan. “Oh, fuck. I’m there, I’m there.”

“I know you are, sweetheart. Ride it out with me. I’m right there with ya,” he assures you, his thrusts becoming frenzied as he chases his own orgasm. His neck and cheeks are flushed red, and in mere moments, he’s pulsing inside you, spurting hot and thick ropes of his seed that paint your insides. It’s a delicious feeling, one you’ve been craving for a while now.

He’s panting on top of you, his forehead pressed to your own, slick with sweat and sticky hair. You’re still holding onto him for dear life, catching your breath. He pulls out of you slowly, watching the mixture of your come drip on to the rosy couch. He pushes it back inside your worn pussy with his fingers, then brings them to his lips and licks them clean.

You giggle, your head dropping to his shoulder. He holds you like that for a moment, letting you steady yourself.

“I hope that wasn’t too much,” he speaks softly. “Didn’t mean to get out of hand. You okay? How’s your thigh?” His voice is full of concern, his hands on either side of your face. His eyes are sparkly and the darkest brown, the crease between his brows a little more prominent than usual. “Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me. I liked it,” you admit sheepishly, assuring him that everything is okay. You’re slightly embarrassed. Who knew you were such a freak? “My thigh is…I’m fine, I promise. It’s just a scratch.”

He says your name sternly, shooting you a warning look. “Let me see it. Can’t trust you,”

“Fine,” you concede, biting back a grin. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t flattered by his concern, the way he’s fawning over you.

He bends down in front of you, gently pulling back the gauze. Your wound is a little irritated in the rigorous fucking you and Joel participated in, but was mostly okay. He decides to clean it and wrap it again in new gauze, telling you he’s not wanting to risk infection. “So,” he starts undressing your wound. “Gonna listen to me from now on, right?

You nod your head. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to-”

He cuts you off, “I know you didn’t. Just need you to be careful, okay? Need you to listen to me. I’m lookin’ out for you, sweetheart,”

You wince in pain when he dumps more alcohol on your wound. “I just…I can take care of myself, you know?”

“I know you can. I know,” he says. Part of him wants to argue more, but he doesn’t. Instead, he silently works, wondering why you buck him on this, why you refuse to ask for help or admit you may need it. Whether it be on patrol or when you’re hurt, or fainting in front of him because you can’t handle a bit of blood. Thank god you’re never on nursing duty at the infirmary. He won’t press you anymore, though.

You share a moment of silence together, both unsure of what to say. What does this mean for your relationship in the future? Joel finishes wrapping your wound, and helps you stand up on shaky legs. He dresses himself, then tosses you your clothing. When he reaches for your pants, his hand falls through the massive hole on the thigh from where the raider knifed you

“Just a scratch, my ass” he mumbles, you hear the smirk in his voice. “Just a flesh wound, right?”

You smile as he tosses you the tattered jeans. “Yup. Just a flesh wound,” you say as you dress yourself again.

Joel leads you to the door, silently letting you know it’s time to get back to Jackson.

“You don’t even understand that reference,” he grumbles, shaking his head. “Jesus, kid.”

@swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @harriedandharassed @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @spideysimpossiblegirl

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel miller #the last of us hbo #dom!joel miller #brat tamer!joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #Pedro pascal #tlou

2K notes · View notes

princessbrunette · 2 months

Note

omg I love kitty!reader sm!!! she’s a lil weirdo just like me!! she’s probably v into witchy stuff and learning about the occult and magic! and jj is always letting her talk his ear off about whatever you’re hyper fixating on at the moment. I can totally see her randomly asking him super seriously if he’d ever taste her blood because she read in some spell book that it would bind them together forever and he’s just looking at her like “Do we wanna go to a graveyard to really seal the deal orrrr” because let’s be honest, that fact that you’re into strange stuff like him turns him on sooooo much it’s kinda funny

₊⊹ ᥫ᭡🐈‍⬛ ⁀➴

thinking about kitty!reader talking jj into making blood vial necklaces for eachother <3

it turns him on how devoted you are to him to wanna do something like that, so he agrees without much thought. only the next day you’re showing up at his place with a whole kit, little needles and syringes with empty vials tied to ribbons that you’d purchased all for this marvellous event. you’re giddy, and he’s increasingly nervous.

“and— and it’s even better ‘cos tonight’s a full moon.” you beam at him as you clean his arm, preparing to take some of his blood.

“okay so… am i like, gonna turn into a werewolf or somethin’?” he teases making you giggle.

you take his blood, pulling it into the syringe and he’s a total baby about it, yelping and wincing, rambling in order to keep himself cool. “y’know i watched this movie once about this crazy scientist who steals this guys blood and he like — he makes evil clones of him. i lowkey feel like you could do somethin’ like that, y’know. like — an army of evil boyfriends— i dunno—”

“jayj stop moving!”

“my bad.”

it comes the time to take your blood and he pretends he’s not feeling a little squeamish at this point, letting you lay against him as he slowly pulls the syringe up, filling it with dark red blood. you were never good at this kind of thing, getting weak and lightheaded, eyes fluttering as you drop more weight onto him. he blinks, craning his head to look at you.

“uh, hello— yoohoo— kittycat… this was your idea, rise and shine.” you smile weakly at the slight panic in his voice.

“m’just resting. feel a little weak.”

“okay, that’s normal right? yeah that’s — that’s like regular. this is a super normal thing to do.”

when he’s done he makes kissy noises, the same you would to a kitten to attract its attention and you open your eyes, sitting up and stretching your back a little. “mm, thanks jayj.”

“uh, yeah.”

you chat as he watches you pour the blood into the vials, so casually that he can’t help but feel in awe of you.

“now you have a piece of me forever.” you grin, canines glistening in the dim lamp light.

“y’know some couples just get matching tattoos but uh— this works too.”

₊⊹ ᥫ᭡🐈‍⬛ ⁀➴

#anon #kitty!reader #jj maybank prompt #is this too niche #tw blood

261 notes · View notes

lingering-42-long · 1 year

Text

141 + extra When everyone is sick

I am sick. And because I am sick, I thought about doing some thing dealing with some of the COD characters with not just you, or them, or your children sick, but Everybody sick. Let’s be honest one person just doesn’t get sick and then the other people are fine in the household most people if one person gets sick, the whole household runs with that same disgusting germ. If you are a squeamish 2, the usual illness that includes potential, throw up, fevers, coughs, mucus, and whatever else comes out of the crusty eyes of everybody who is sick, then this story might not be for you. Enjoy~

Also, if you want to leave a question, or ask for a theme for a head cannon, or a short story, please feel free to use the ask box! It’s always open!

COD x Female Character

Warnings: sicknes and other related things, fluff

Captain John Prince

• It started when the girls came back home from school.

• At first they just had sneezes which you didn’t think much about but then the next day their sneezes have turned into coughs and sore throats.

• There was no fever, so you still sent them to school with a packet of Halls for each of them and some kid friendly medicine.

• It was around 2 o’clock and you were almost ready to pick them up from school. When you receive a phone call from the teacher letting you know that your two children have a fever.

• A day later you had caught whatever bug they had caught

• And now your young toddler, son is also down with whatever.

• John is much more susceptible to colds and can handle them. He was doing his best to make sure that everybody was taken care of.

• It honestly broke his heart, saying that his whole family was practically crumpling underneath this little illness.

• He made sure to stay on top of the medication and would do his best to help you with the kids when they weren’t feeling good.

• To make sure that he didn’t get sick, he decided to sleep in the guest bedroom.

• Makes the best chicken noodle soup this side of England!

• Reads to his children while keeping a safe distance from them.

• If you’re burning up and not feeling well, immediately gets a bath going for you.

• He wants to be close to you and the children again and he misses hugging them and you.

• One of the only people that does not get sick.

Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

• You two had eaten some thing that did not settle well in either of your stomachs.

• While, Simon was capable of looking like he wasn’t in pain, you were a different story.

• You were throwing up almost every hour and your stomach hurts so bad.

• Did I forget to mention you’re pregnant with his first child?

• Simon does everything he can for both of you.

• He make sure that you both take the medication on time and he’s very precise with keeping you guys on track of drinking water and taking charcoal pills to eliminate any toxin in your body.

• He’s asking you if you are OK.

• Even though this wasn’t his fault, he still feels like it is.

• You remind him that there is nothing, he could’ve done since neither of you knew that the food was tainted with something.

• He rubs your belly at night, trying to ease the pain that you are feeling, and that your child are experiencing.

• At night, you hear him throwing up. You see him crouched on the side of the toilet, puking out whatever liquids were in his stomach.

• By the time he’s done, he all butt collapses on to the floor, exhausted.

• You help him up and he get him to brush his teeth then you to go back to bed with one trash can mirror each of your bedside.

Sergeant Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish

• Johnny and you had come down with some thing.

• It was a cold, rainy day in Scotland while he and you were hiking.

• You hadn’t expect it to rain so soon.

• It has been a beautiful day out on the highlands when suddenly you got drenched.

• You were now wet and cold and you had at least half a kilometer away from your car.

• Johnny made sure to get you warmed up with a nice hot shower and to make you guys both some soup.

• You could tell by his face he wasn’t feeling good either.

• Another good news was that you made sure to have the freezer stocked with soup bases, and stock as well as soups for cold days and emergencies.

• You to sit on the couch, cuddled together in your blankets, trying to stay warm and drink your soup.

• You take some Advil before heading off to bed.

• The next morning you feel worse than you did.

• You could hear Johnny moaning as he was puking up his contents from dinner.

• His puking caused you to have a chain reaction and you started to feel the bile rising up.

• Next thing you know you’re racing towards the bathroom to throw up as well.

• But it’s too late for you as you suddenly release most of your contacts on the bedroom floor, staining your carpet in the process.

• Johnny sees this and does what he can to finish up with his issue before coming over to help you at least make it into the bathroom before a second wave hits you.

• Your whole body is burning up.

• You decide to start a hot bath for both of you.

• You’re shaking for how cold you feel.

• Johnny does his best to keep you both warm.

• He lays a ton of kisses on your for head as he whispers that it’s going to be OK.

• He is very clingy and wants to be holding you and touching you at all times.

• Some thing about sharing body heat to keep you both warm.

• Just an excuse to hold you.

• He also promises to do a better thorough check on the weather the next time.

Sargent Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

• Gaz was the one that got sick first.

• You’re not exactly sure how he got it. He just came home with a cough and a scratchy throat saying it was nothing.

• The next morning, he woke up with a lot of pain in his throat, and it was making it difficult for him to breathe properly.

• Worried you take him to the doctors and you find out that he has strep throat.

• The doctor gives you the medication you need to help treat him and suggest that you stay away from him as best as you can.

• This hurts both of you since you both want to be close to one another especially in the time of need.

• Gaz makes a phone call to price letting him know that he won’t be in at base due to strep throat.

• Captain Price wishes him well and sends him a speedy recovery.

• Gaz hates taking medicine. He’s not a big fan of bitter stuff.

• But he will do anything if you get to play nurse for him.

• Slightly clingy, but not nearly as clingy as soap.

• Whines a little about not feeling well.

• He doesn’t complain much because he knows you’re doing your best and he doesn’t want you to feel like you’re not doing your best.

• He falls asleep faster if you’re in the room sitting in a chair next to him.

Commander Alejandro Vargas

• The commander is very similar to John. He rarely gets sick, but he hates seeing you get sick and more importantly he hates seeing his children get sick.

• His youngest daughter started not feeling very good a couple of days ago.

• His little baby girl was sent to the hospital to make sure everything was OK.

• She had just picked up the bug that had been passing around the area.

• Do you love watching your husband take care of his baby girl.

• He acts as if her life depends upon him solely to take care of her.

• The other two kids are advised to stay away from their youngest siblings room until she’s feeling better.

• They write her all cards, telling her to get well soon.

• Your two eldest children help you make fresh broth, so that their sibling could have some nourishment.

• Alejandro also knows that he is potentially at risk for catching whatever she has. So in order to keep the disease from spreading, he also sleeps in the guestroom.

• He does miss not being with his family.

Sergeant Major Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

• Your son has always been a weak child from the beginning.

• Since the moment of birth, Rudy and you had to go to the doctors office quite more frequently than what most babies had to go into because your son suffers with autoimmune disease.

• When he was first born, you almost lost him, because he was so weak and born as a preemie.

• Thankfully, he has gotten a lot healthier, but it still considered a very small baby even for his size.

• It was one of those days where he was not feeling very good. While a normal cough or sneeze doesn’t harm a person can absolutely destroy your son.

• Rudy and you are in the ICU making sure that your son is in good hands and being watched over.

• Rudy is nervous but he chose not to show it for you.

• He loves his son dearly and wants the best for him he wishes that he could take his sons pain away.

• His son had to get some IV drips into him.

• Both you and your husband will stay in the hospital for sometime.

König

• Nothing beats a good day, playing out in the snow in Austria, however; that day will be very short-lived as the whole family gets whammied with an illness.

• The only one that isn’t sick is your baby boy who is staying with his grandmother for the time being as the rest if you get healed up.

• König is not a very healthy person. He doesn’t necessarily have an auto immune issue, but he does catch colds a lot faster, and he sustains them a lot longer than most people.

• Unfortunately, this means that all the work is put on you.

• He really wants to help with the responsibilities, but he can’t even move out of bed without the world spinning, and he hast to collapse back onto the sheets or risk blacking out.

• His girls fare better and you’re doing OK with just a sore throat and a slight fever and mixed with a headache.

• Since you are all sick, you decide to just all cuddle up together in bed.

• König is passed out fast asleep, and the two little girls are squirming around, trying to get comfortable.

• You’re doing your best that you can and you’ve already gotten the medicine from the doctors for the girls and your husband and yourself.

• One morning you wake up to somebody brushing your hair and you look up to see König with some hot coffee ready for you.

• He was feeling a little bit better this morning and wanted to do something nice for you.

• He feels really bad for not helping you with the girls even if you tell them it’s fine.

Alex Keller

• You’ve got pneumonia.

• Alex is like a Labrador retriever.

• He will get you anything that you need or want.

• He woke up in the middle of the night

• He then heard you crying, which helps him get up faster.

• You are in pain and the rattling in your lungs is the evidence of that pain.

• Alex does everything that the doctor prescribes you.

• You have to wear a nebulizer for a few minutes every handful of hours.

• He brings you clothes in his arms as you two are watching a TV show while your nebulizer is wrapped around your face, making a Low hum as it is pumping you with the steam.

• The way you’re laying on his leg is making him uncomfortable, but he’s not gonna say anything to you.

• Right now he’s focused on making sure that you are OK.

Philip Graves

• Philip has never been one really to get sick.

• He Springs back from a lot of things really quickly. It would literally take a bomb to put him under and even then he would still find away.

• He’s not feeling good but he’s got work that Hass to get done and no amount of stopping him is going to keep them from doing his work.

• That is until you get up into his face and pretty much force him back down on the couch when he tries to leave with a 102°f (39°c)fever.

• He grumbles about some thing for Work stating that he can’t miss on his job.

• So you make him go to a doctor and you find out that he has Covid.

• He gets a doctors note and calls in sick from work.

• Yeah, you’re petty.

• You make sure to get the bedroom set up nicely for him and also make sure to have water by his bedside so he’s not dehydrated.

• He grumbles more about how he can handle himself.

• You threaten to call his mom.

• He shuts up.

• He now begrudgingly has to deal with you, tending to his care

• The worst part is he actually enjoys it, and will find any excuse for you to be near him.

• He will ask five or six other times to bring him more tissues, or to fluff up the pillows or tuck in the sheets a little bit more.

• He tries to kiss you after every task, but of course you dodged them telling him he did not want to get Covid.

• He just gets grouchy again.

• Once he’s better, he plans on taking you out to dinner for all your hard work and making him feel better .

407 notes · View notes

kairiscorner · 10 months

Note

Hey! Got a lil request!

I feel like Hobie would love to watch horror/scary movies so I would like a fic of Hobie watching a scary movie with reader that doesn't like scary movies cause they hate hyper realistic gore. You can imagine how he'd react to them being squeamish.

Thank you for reading this (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

HI @k4tsu3 POOKIEEEE OFC I WILL MAKE IT >:DDD HOPE YOU LIKE IT BOO 🫶🫶🫶

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

no need to worry, i'm right here. — hobie brown x reader

summary: as much as you want to enjoy movie night with your boyfriend, you could never bring yourself to find peace and enjoyment at the prospect of hyper realistic gore and nightmare fuel for days on end. luckily, hobie understands that you don't enjoy this as much as he does, and even luckier, he's willing to hold you all night and change the movie if you want. word count: 586

you tried to put on a brave face, though it was nothing like the look of enjoyment on hobie's face as he awaited to watch the movie you two scrounged up on some shady website. he laughed every time a pop-up appeared and poked fun at it as he exited the tab, though you awaited those pop-ups like the sunrise to a long, restless evening, because it was your excuse not to see the barrage of dark atmosphere and frightening elements of the movie you two were watching.

you listened as hobie made live commentary in murmurs on how good the cinematography was, how realistic the makeup on the actors were when they were using gorey elements for the shots. you smiled uncomfortably at the sound of hobie's amazement towards the execution of the movie and tried your hardest to look away from the compellingly loud sounds from the film. you shivered and whimpered a little as you curled up next to hobie, who was initially confused as to why you were suddenly clinging on to him, but he didn't mind--in fact, he loved that you were clinging on to him. though something told him you were clinging on to him for reasons other than you wanting to hold him intimately.

hobie went over and paused the movie and looked at you with a confused yet concerned look. "y'alright, love?" he asked you with a head tilt as you nodded and tried to smile sweetly up at him. "of course! of course, hobes... 'course i'm okay..." you stammered as hobie smirked, not buying your faux declaration of being 'okay'. "is it the movie?" he asked you as he wrapped his arm around your waist and held you a little closer. shivers ran up your spine as you lightly nodded and leaned back on his chest in embarrassment. "...yeah. it's just, i don't wanna ruin movie night for you, hobes... we watch every movie i like, and, i wanted to watch something you like, in return. i'm sorry..." you muttered as hobie kissed the top of your head and brushed away stray hairs on your forehead and smiled.

"love, there's nothing wrong with being scared of a movie, let alone not wanting to watch it because of it. i'm glad you told me, and to be honest, i could go for watching a different, less violent, film right about now. you know me, i love me a good double feature." he said as he clicked off the tab you two were watching on and searched up a movie you were raving to hobie about, one you loved that he hasn't seen before. hobie grinned at you as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders again. "you alright with rewatching this masterpiece you told me about, dear?" he asked you with a wink, to which you chuckled lightly as you placed your hand on top of his and smiled at him. "i am if you're eager to see it, i could watch this a million times and still be blown away, especially now that you're watching it with me..." you whispered as you pecked a kiss on hobie's cheek. "thank you for understanding, hobes..." you told him as he kissed your cheek back. "don't worry, love. your comfort's always my priority. besides, this actually looks really promising, can't wait to see it." he said as he clicked play and you two laughed as the button redirected you two to an ad for hot single moms in your area.

a/n: (((y'all watched the barbie movie /hj)))

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @arachnoia @pixqlsin @solecitoszn

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown fluff #atsv #atsv imagines #atsv fluff #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff

272 notes · View notes

whumpbug · 3 days

Note

HI [WAVES]

i am once again here for your boys. your dudes. your guys.

now hear me out. just a thought. it's a little bit more on the gore/violence part, so if it's not your thing I totally understand but: you know that thing where someone gets pinned to a table by a knife through their hand? i think that should happen to archie in the middle of a battle or a Situation.

(also because Simon gingerly bandaging Archie's wounded hand is an Image I Want To See.)

i hope it's an alright prompt to send in? if it's not your thing I totally understand!

-@whump-kia (with glee!)

HI KIA!!!

okay so. this was definitely not too gory of an ask or anything and i actually was very Very excited about this prompt, so it's pretty short only because i didn't want to think too hard about the context and situation (-｡-;) i just kind of jumped in to the action because i couldn't think of a good backstory so i hope thats ok!!

hope you enjoy!!

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Archie never considered himself a squeamish person.

Sure, blood and gore didn’t make him particularly happy, but he and Simon both had pretty strong stomachs due to their lines of work.

So he can’t quite place why the sight of the blade currently buried in his palm was making his stomach lurch so dangerously.

Maybe it’s the overpowering smell of metal assaulting Archie’s enhanced olfaction, or maybe it’s the way he can quite literally feel his nerves shift whenever his finger so much as twitches.

It didn’t matter. He just wants it out.

The man he had been fighting was strategic. He knew how to get his enemy into the position he wanted them in while still giving them the impression that they were in control.

And that was how he managed to get Archie. Archie tended to fight with his legs. When the man pushed him to the table, he assumed he’d be able to throw a quick kick to end the entire conflict then and there, and.. well, he did manage to knock the guy out, but not before a knife was pinning him to the table.

Archie sighs and looks away from the hand before his lunch decides to make a reappearance.

He really only has one option for what to do. He silently hopes Simon is home.

He manages to scoot on the table enough to sit up and get a better angle at the wound. He takes his free hand and wraps it around the handle of the blade, intaking a sharp breath and gritting his teeth before slowly, carefully pulling it through the table, then his flesh, and then out. He feels the skin being moved as the metal slides against it, and it's enough to make him retch.

Unsurprisingly, blood begins to pour from the wound immediately. Every nerve is alight with pain, but also discomfort. His hand feels weak. He tries to make a fist, but finds that the pain flares instantaneously, and abandons the idea.

Alright. Think. What would Simon tell you to do.

Vague lectures of the dangers of opens wounds and blood loss come to his mind. He looks around for something to use to apply pressure to the wound, and eventually settles on ripping a piece of his (unconscious) assailant's shirt off.

He hesitantly brings his gaze back to the wound and grimaces. God, it looks so gross. He shudders.

After wrapping his hand in the fabric, he begins his journey to find the one person he knows can fix this.

••••

Simon had been sleeping deeply when he heard the knock at the window.

He’s still half asleep when he gets up to see how Archie managed to injure himself this time. His hair is mussed and his eyes are drowsy, but as soon as he sees the blood dripping through Archie's hastily-wrapped palm, he wakes right up.

“Fuck Archie, get in here..” He murmurs, voice still hoarse.

Archie climbs in, surprisingly calm for how much he is bleeding. “I’m sorry, were you sleeping?”

Simon stifles an eye-roll as he ushers Archie to sit on the couch.

“I was. It’s fine. You’re cleary in an.. urgent situation,” He huffs, gently taking Archie’s hand and methodically unwrapping the fabric. "How did this even happen?"

Archie instantly pales.

“Archie?”

“C-Can’t look at it. Gonna puke.”

Simon smirks.

“You’ve quite literally been impaled before and didn't bat an eye. You’re telling me this is the thing that finally gets you?”

“Less talking, more wound dressing please,” Archie means to sound demanding, but it comes out as more of a whiny plea.

Simon laughs softly as he begins to tend to the wound. His hands move quickly, but exceedingly gently. He cleans and sutures the wound, and by now, Archie is able to look at it without going white as a ghost.

While Simon is swathing his hand with proper dressings, he stifles a yawn. That interrupted nap was his first time sleeping in 2 days, after all. Archie picks up on it rather easily.

“Could we watch a movie or something? I need to get that image out of my head,” He half-lies, motioning to his now carefully wrapped hand.

Simon nods, but his eyelids are already drooping. They settle on the couch and put on a random Disney movie Archie's seen hundreds of times.

They're only sitting for a few minutes when Simon begins to nod off. Eventually, his head finds a place nestled on Archie's shoulder and Archie doesn't dare move an inch.

He's gonna let Simon rest if it's the last thing he does.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

#i just find archie being more grossed out than in pain funny #simon is so sleepy guys #help him #whumblr #prompt fill #whump fic #whump community #hand wound #hand whump #cw: gore #but its nothing too bad #simon and archie #archie hates hand gore its his weakness i fear

15 notes · View notes

mulders-too-large-shirt · 5 days

Text

s1 episode 18 thoughts

i have been busy and my nightly watch sessions have fallen to the wayside, so i was really excited to watch this one! a great end to a busy day <3

so we open with a child reciting the bible to bring a dead burn victim back to life. i'm american so this was like an ordinary day for me ngl. like yeah yeah the child who believes he can resurrect, we've all seen it. nothing a good southern hallelujah can't fix in some people's minds.

the preacher says he found the boy on the banks of the mississippi which was SO funny to me. moses who?!

there was another scene of the ministry being cultishly devout and i wrote in my notes "like this isn't even really funny this is just the south i know people like this" and i stand by that assessment

scully wants to go investigate even though it's not an x file because they need someone with medical experience. she seems to think he won't want to come but mulder is soooo happy to join :D "when are we leaving for tennessee?"

(he needs to be out of his office for stimulation)

the preacher was dripping in expensive jewelry, had 4 cadillacs, again, many such cases here in the US of A.

when they meet the miracle healer boy (who has been accidentally killing people lately) he says to scully "do you deny the power of God?" and she says "no". i am storing that information for future use.

scully got deeply uncomfortable and tried to shut it DOWN when the miracle guy brought up mulder's sister, but he wanted to hear more. she even called the sheriff over. she said you are NOT going to mess with that man's head in front of me absolutely NOT.

then we had a plague moment in the courtroom. GRASSHOPPER ATTACK BE UPON YE!

mulder was reading from the old testament... this is so ethel cain coded

then he starts seeing his sister as a little girl and running toward her!!! he runs out during a chat with the preacher and scully is confused

she asks hey man. what did you see. he says "a girl". she says "who, jessica hahn?" (now i had to google who that is but she was a model.)

scully you are quick-witted and good at teasing this man. but he's sad and says "a LITTLE girl". making fun of mulder for having a crush has been temporarily POSTPONED due to his childhood trauma resurfacing.

i actually felt really bad for the healer guy who started killing people by touching them because i find it very believable that religious trauma will have you thinking that your evil hands made people choke to death because you are Sinful. again, seen similar things. in a less dramatic sort of way.

they return to the ministry event and mulder points out a seat in the crowd to scully then guides her with his hand on the small of her back. god, when is my turn? i have seen what you make the fictional men do.

the religious people are blocking an autopsy for religious purposes. which is something i will be googling later because tbh i'm curious if that is still a thing.

! SCULLY LORE REVEAL ! she was raised catholic! she is familiar with scripture and says "God never lets the devil steal the show!" mulder laughs and says "you must have loved the Exorcist" and she says its one of her favorite movies! (DANA SCULLY HORROR FAN?!?!)

we see a person in scrubs sharpening a knife for an autopsy and i did NOT like that so imagine my SHOCK AND HORROR to learn it was none other than scully herself getting to business!!!

mulder is also there and he is very squeamish so he's being a great friend by sitting on the counter while she cuts a body up. thank u for ur service king.

(she makes him look at some lungs and he does NOT want to do this. think of the poor man's stomach, scully!)

when he runs out to go see the healer turned killer kid in jail, i was like yeah he was looking for an excuse to get tf out of there

also scully... in scrubs... <3 yes the sharpening of a knife was impersonal and scary but it's still Her... she's in her Doctor Mode and i love to see it

the healer boy tormented mulder about his sister and had him in the jail cell yelling "IS SHE ALIVE" ohhh i was seated. i was on the edge of that seat i was sat upon. needed to know if he was going to crack some skulls to get answers about his sister.

well no skulls were cracked in THAT scene but in the very next one, the sheriff hires some henchmen to kill the healer guy in jail which is like. not really analyzed a lot throughout the rest of the episode. and i feel like we moved past this a bit too quickly. but okay.

i was worried they were going to make the shady pastor the hero of the episode and thankful they did not do that. we don't need that energy to be encouraged. don't we deal with enough as is? another megachurch pastor might break me.

(our duo breaks into the court room where earlier a plague of locusts had begun) "what exactly are we looking for?" "clues" okay cryptic scooby doo mulder. acting like the guy from blue's clues. dumbass. i love him. (blue skadoo, you can too!)

then he yells "SCULLY! it's potato" in a deadly serious tone. this obviously has Implications for the investigation but "SCULLY! it's potato" is a phrase that had me laughing until my sides hurt. the deadpan delivery. scully. it's potato. new phrase entering my mental roster. rotating it in my mind over and over again.

they realize it's the burn victim the boy healed as a child who killed all those people! and when they get to his house, scully takes a deep sniff of whatever he was drinking and announces it's poison. which again, important to the plot. but it looked like she was just:

(scully takes a deep inhale of some liquid that looks like water) cyanide...

like girl why are you sniffing that! they always tell you not to sniff unknown chemicals when you get to high school chemistry class!!! her med school training flew Out the window. she needs to sniff the poison.

we see them getting packed up to head home and MULDER BROUGHT A PHOTO OF HIS SISTER AND KEPT IT BY HIS BED. does he do this for every single roadtrip? holy fuck i was gonna cry. the impermanence of the hotel room but the permanence of his grief, trying to hold on to what he can remember, her photo as a symbol of what he works for, what he spends his life working toward, why he devotes so many late hours and sleepless nights to the job... because its about getting her back above all else. no i'm Fine it's totally okay.

i enjoyed that for once, this was just a good ol' fashioned murder. a guy was poisoning people and letting someone else take the fall. a totally rational situation! a win for the disbelievers from all backgrounds!

(okay, so we don't know exactly why the guy could heal people in the first place or cause mulder to see his sister. but don't think about that too hard! enjoy the w for skeptics and scully nation!)

#i especially enjoyed seeing scully get defensive about the dude bringing up mulder's sister #she still doesn't really know what to do about that whole thing but she's trying her best damn #and frankly like what would YOU do in such a situation. ur coworker believes his sister was taken by aliens. u don't believe in aliens.#a little “damn man that sucks :/” isn't gonna cut it #she's trying her best!!!!!!#anyways great to watch another episode and i hope i have more time to do so over the weekend because i look forward to it all day #juni's x files liveblog #the x files #txf

12 notes · View notes

muertawrites · 2 years

Note

Yeah Eddie’s love language definitely biting and/or licking you, he’s “marking his territory” and I also believe his LL is also acts of service, he’ll do things for you simply because he wants you to be happy.

I think his love language to receive(?) love is physical touch and quality time. He doesn’t mind the other things but revels in those in particular. He would physically melt if you touched him, scratched his scalp with your nails, stroked his hair, hand on his shoulder or arm (he definitely try to flex if you did that), head resting on his shoulder

i don't know much about love languages. i know that everybody talks about them and everybody has theirs but i'm like. as lost as i am about the myers-briggs types (which are actually just bullshit pseudo science BUT that's not what this post is about). i think it's because i've never had a healthy relationship to base my answers off of so any time i try to take the test i'm like "people are supposed to do this shit for the people they're dating? lmao that's wild"

but i do agree with everything you said

i think eddie is kind of like a needy cat. a siamese. he likes to be close to you at all times, even if you're doing separate things, and if there's free space, he will be in your lap. he gives you little love bites at random because he's a feral rescue and chomp = ♥️

and yes, omg, touch his scalp. run your fingers through his hair and give him a kiss on the forehead and his brain cells stop working. he becomes goo. could lay for literal hours with his chin on your chest while you stroke his hair.

he also loves to shower with you. not even for sexy reasons, he just likes feeling your skin against his and being in a place that's warm and safe and confined. gives you so many forehead kisses.

he really likes reading with you too?? like even if you're in the same room reading different books he loves to just snuggle up and enjoy the quiet and the comfort and hear your opinions about whatever story you're into right now. definitely the kind of romantic motherfucker to ask you to read poetry and classic lit to him. loves poe. does not cry every time over annabel lee who the fuck told you that.

and yeah this man will do anything for you. up to and including murder. if you need something, he will provide it. as sticklery about your car's maintenance as your average dad ("have you checked your oil?" "how are your wipers working?" "it's almost time to renew your registration babe don't forget"). he just cares a lot about your safety.

the only thing i can't see him agreeing to is getting you tampons / pads if you need them. he's still a guy and still gets kinda squeamish about that stuff. hiding a body for you? sure, easy. arson? he'll make it look like an accident. telling the difference between a panty liner and a pad? taking that shit to the register and having someone actually see him with it? he's ostracized enough he doesn't need another reason for people to judge him.

and yes he does flex his arm when you touch it. you've been dating for years but he still tries constantly to impress you. he's actually surprisingly muscular so you're not complaining

#eddie munson #eddie asks #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #writing fic to distract from the ✨problems✨

465 notes · View notes

docholligay · 12 days

Note

I know GoT only by reputation, and what little I've seen of it on tumblr, but... sometimes, I feel like fantasy, as a genre, has been absolutely ruined by the success of GoT. Everything these days seems to be about making settings and characters as nasty, brutish, and dirty as possible. It's incredibly tiring, and really frustrating, to the point of feeling like these sorts of tropes are being repeated for their own sake rather than because they actually do anything for the story or characters.

(Also, being the sort of person who easily becomes queasy at the sight or thought of blood, and has issues with everything being so darned loud, this tends to be a particular pet peeve in television, but even books aren't completely immune to this effect either, which makes it doubly frustrating.)

I mean this in the nicest possible way, please imagine me saying this with a big smile on my face and laughing as I take a swig from my beer, but you and I are SO diametrically opposed on this!

I mean, anything can be written BADLY, of course, but I fell out of reading fantasy as i got older not because it all became A Song of Ice and Fire but because it all seemed to be "a brave young woman!! IS the chosen one!! And she will prevail over SUPER DARKNESS. And only the parental figure will die, to motivate her, and everyone's intentions and clear and good, and also there are dragons I guess." There's so much narrative safety. There's so many last-minute asspulls to save someone. I would LOVE some well written political machination but there are dragons though. That's why I liked Locke Lamora!

I think we have a tendency to notice the things we hate. So for me, Fantasty now is fucking lousy with ~queer retellings~ that are all very life affirming and nice and all that but all the eating each other out in the world isn't going to get me over the hump of wishing there were actual, painful consequences for being an idiot, or even just unlucky.

Part of why people named Doc, who are me, really like Song of ice and Fire (please note I actually DON'T like Game of Thrones) is that anyone COULD die. The books would not CHEAT TO HELP THE GOOD GUY WIN. And for me, that was everything. As a young teen who had read so so so much fantasy but was starting to feel really resentful of the way it never seemed to mirror the moments of difficulty and pain in life, it meant so much (I think the show edged too hard toward Cheating To Help The bad Guy Win, but that's another matter)

But obviously you and I are totally different people. You admit to being squeamish, so of course you don't care for things that involve violence. I, on the other hand, am an excellent person to have in any given bloody crisis, as I have Done Time in Ag. I am, to give a real life example, the person you calmly call into the kitchen to help when you've nearly taken your finger off with a meat slicer. I have a smile and a "We can handle this!" to give. I, on the third hand, have had life experiences that make, "the magical salvation of being nice and believing really hard" feel like an actual-ass insult. I never met a war that didn't take its chunk, and you don't get to pick where they come from.

These are just differences of personality. Fucking magical princess witches in the forest running from the bad guys but overcoming it all with sass and gay love because we're twelve I guess exists for you, and grimdark machinations toward a lead crown of thorns where evil brings profit and virtue none at all because fuck happiness everyone should be a German concrete salesman is for me. I think there's probably more of what both of us like than either of us are actually admitting.

However, everything is too loud for me all the time also, I really recommend eargasm earplugs, which come with a very small container and are nearly invisible and discreet when in. They block some of the sound but not all of it. Many people in my life casually don't even know I have them or sometimes put them in for louder places.

19 notes · View notes

idiasdiscordkitten · 2 years

Note

Hello again >:) Ok so prompt for Vampire! Trey, Leona, Floyd, Jamil, Malleus. Can be spicy if you feel like it ;) So, Reader doesn't know that the other person is a vampire and cut themselves pretty deep, thus bleeding. The twst character, being the only other person there, have to bandage their wound and help them. Are they comfortable? Stressed? Hungry? Horny? Up to you~

now this right here is the kind of content i live for. i love stuff like this! i'm going to do my best :) thank you for the request!

i think i am going to keep this mostly non-spicy, just because it wouldn't apply to most of them

you guys i love writing the boys as supernatural creatures

trey, leona, floyd, jamil, and malleus as vampires tending to an oblivious, bleeding prefect

Trey Clover

❤️ trey is a little uncomfortable with the fact that you’re bleeding, since it’s not like he has fresh blood all that often, but his priority is making sure you’re alright. his teeth ache, but he’s able to put those desires aside to tend to your wound

❤️ he cares a lot about what you think of him. he doesn’t want anyone to view him as someone (or something) to be afraid of, so he does his best to appear as “normal” as possible

❤️ you notice that he’s a little shaky, but when he tells you he’s just a little squeamish, he’s very convincing, and you don’t suspect a thing

❤️ after he makes sure you’re going to heal up just fine and you’re back at the dorm, he goes back to his own room to cool off. he wasn’t about to lose it, or anything, but he certainly feels dehydrated. moreso than usual

Leona Kingscholar

💛 his instincts immediately kick in, telling him to completely devour you, but he fights back so that he doesn’t draw suspicion. if anyone finds out he’s a vampire, it’ll just bring more attention to him, and he’d really prefer to be left alone

💛 leona figures that you’re too stupid to patch yourself up, so he grits his teeth and carefully bandages you up

💛 once he’s closer to you, the scent really hits him and he starts to zone out a little, just holding on to you for a second and staring. when he hears his own name, he snaps out of it. his excuse is that annoying herbivores like you are preventing him from taking a nap, so he’s extra tired (not that that’s a lie or anything)

💛 after you’re all fixed up, he orders you to go home. if you’re *that* injured, he’ll ask ruggie or jack to escort you. he needs some time alone to drink something, anything, to get your scent off his mind. it was just too good

Floyd Leech

💜 you may not know that floyd’s a vampire, but you do know he’s dangerous. if there’s anyone you don’t really want to be injured in front of, it’s him. and with good reason, too

💜 he glances at your cut and laughs a little, smiling. he wants a taste really, really bad, and he’s honestly a little turned on by your scent, too. he absolutely wants to take you

💜 when he grabs you, he takes a closer look and contemplates whether or not he should actually bite you. would it really be all that interesting? or is the punishment for such an action too lame, too much of a turnoff

💜 “aw, i didn’t know little shrimpies could bleed like that,” he says. he decides that eating you now would be too easy, and right now, you’re not really worth the trouble. he fixes you up and lets you go, but even though he does a good job bandaging you up, he makes sure to make it “messy” at first so he can get a sample of your blood for later

Jamil Viper

🧡 jamil has phenomenal control, since he’s had to take care of kalim his whole life, but it takes a lot of energy to maintain that composure. your blood smells so good to him, so unique, that he almost breaks character for a second

🧡 he fixes you up really quickly. you don’t think anything of it, since he’s basically a professional malewife, and he’s grateful that he’s got plenty of experience with situations like these

🧡 but god, is he hungry

🧡 all he wants to do is use his teeth. that’s all. it’s frustrating to him that he has these fangs and he can’t even use them... maybe someday

Malleus Draconia

💚 he knows you’re bleeding before you do. he could tell that your blood smelled good even when it was trapped beneath your skin, but now that it’s free? my, what a special child of man you are

💚 malleus knows that everyone is terrified of him, though. the thought of you being scared of him, too, is just too painful. he’s old enough to be able to restrain himself without issue, so he makes sure to be as gentle and warm as possible while he tends to your injury

💚 he knows his skin is cold, so he tries not to let his touch linger for too long. you two have never made skin-to-skin contact before, and he laments that it’s under these circumstances. he hopes you don’t suspect anything

💚 your kindness proves you would never hold judgment towards something like that, and he’s relieved that you didn’t seem to realize anything. after you leave, he realizes his own tongue is bleeding. has he really been pushing his fangs into it this whole time without noticing? it’s time to feed, then

285 notes · View notes

cult-of-the-eye · 7 months

Text

Ok so after MAG 80 and general spoilers from tumblr, here's a few of my thoughts on some of the fears:

The Corruption

ew ew ew ew

I hate it. I watched that one insect scene in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom and I'm forever horrified by masses upon masses of any insect or worm. It just makes my skin crawl.

(sorry Ms Prentiss, I have immense fear and respect for you)

The Lonely

Mmm delicious

Seems peaceful tbh

What do you mean you're worried about me? I'm not self isolating and depressed, I'm just becoming an avatar of the Lonely!

The Eye

Hmm

I never really understood the paranoia and the fear of constantly being watched but I guess if I was then I would.

I do understand the thirst for knowledge though

If I were to become a ghost, I'd spend my days listening to people's private conversations and finding out about their personal lives and drama

The Flesh

Oooh I kinda like this one

It does give me a visceral reaction though I hate the idea of raw meat so fucking much oh my god.

But the idea of us humans just being piles of meat? Oh yes. I've had many intrusive thoughts about that

I like it in a poetry kinda way cause I am actually so squeamish in real life it's what I told my dad when I told him I didn't want to be a doctor lol

The Slaughter

No.

The Hunt

Bro I have no stamina and also no motivation

I do have spite so maybe I would be a good avatar? Hmm

The Dark

Yeah I'm fucking terrified of this one.

Listen I have no motor skills, I can barely walk when it gets dark i am not equipped for this

Whenever I go upstairs in the evening, I sprint up so the demons can't get me

The Desolation

Ooh I do like this one

I like the idea that burning everything down

I also intimately adore and understand Tim Stoker and his Rage

The End

Yeah ok I'm kinda a fan of this one

I like the idea of ending things for other people

And things coming to an end for me

I think it would be cathartic

Calm even

Yeah I'd be a good end avatar

The Web

I'd be mad if I found out I was being manipulated by another person but if I found out a hot crazy lady was manipulating me? I'd be fine with that.

Not a fan of a huge number of spiders though (see the corruption one)

The Stranger

I didn't think it was that terrifying until like MAG 79 when the not Sasha was like I'm gonna wear your skin and it's gonna hurt

God damn I was traumatised.

I'd also absolutely despise being the one person who can tell someone is different I'd actually burn everything down and then myself

The Spiral

Michaels is just a harmless little guy

This is just what being genderqueer is like (I say as a genderqueer person)

Yeah I know madness.

That one statement about insomnia really stuck with me

I could be a great avatar of the spiral, my friend said that conversations with me are like trying to find your way out of a maze

What have I missed

The Buried

As hozier himself said, "Lay Me Gently In The Cold Dark Earth"

Nice.

I'd like to be compressed.

Oh wait I am kinda claustrophobic though.

The Vast

Similar to the lonely

I think it would be peaceful

I like to imagine sometimes that the world is just a 15km radius surrounded by an expanse of fog or trees

It's nice knowing I'm insignificant I guess. It means I only need to worry about myself.

40 notes · View notes

ammonitetheseaserpent · 1 year

Text

PENULTIMATE CHAPTER TIME! PENU-

Ahem

*whispers into mic* Penultimate chapter time. Also second TOTM Wednesday.

This one is a doozy. Easily the longest - and most emotionally intense/possibly darkest - chapter in this fic! No, seriously, this is gonna be heavy. There’s a moment in here you probably shouldn’t read if you’re squeamish.

It’s pretty much the climax of this fic, I’d say, and I am ecstatic to share it w/ you all!

Tide of Tide Minds

Chapter 5: Cosmically Opposed

Summary: The Titan Trappers finally make their way to what they call the carcass kingdom. Chaos ensues.

Chapter Word Count: 2,350

Trigger Warnings: Kidnapping (seriously there’s one scene that’s. kinda creepy when I reread it), character injury, character death, graphic (a bit)

The army drifts steadily across the Boiling Sea. An army with a single destination, a single goal, in mind.

They’re going to the carcass kingdom, to finish what they started.

A roiling breeze strokes the brine around them in the opposite direction - almost as if some force is trying to deter them, get them to turn back. But the army paddles forward, driven by solemn determination, a flame burning within each of them.

Before long, a series of barely audible thuds punctuate the night as each boat is gently jostled to a stop. A small, scruffy figure clambers out of one of the vessels, briefly scanning his surroundings, before motioning to the others to step out onto land. As the army gathers their weapons and makes their way onto the shoreline, the small figure gives a toothy grin.

Soon, their prey will be within reach.

“…aaaand that’s everything!”

The Collector waves their hands with a gleeful flourish, stepping away from the large mat, pot, and colorful winks they’d created per King’s instructions.

“Now we just need to set it all up!” the cosmic being declares.

King nods, rolling some stray winks back onto the mat. “Got someplace in mind?”

“Hmmm…” the Collector muses. His eyes shift over to a gulf a little ways from their current spot near the lower knee. “How abooouuut… there?”

King blinks, baffled. “The- you wanna play tiddlywinks- down there? I mean… do you want the shock rays to give us their complaints?”

“Maybe I do; you don’t know everything about me,” the Collector retorts light-heartedly.

King stifles a laugh. “Hey, just an idea - maybe we could… both look for a spot? Together?” King suggests, hoping to delay the notion of gulf-tiddlywinks as long as possible.

The Collector gives a drawn-out shrug. “Mm’kay.” They scoop up King and rise into the evening air, far enough so that they both have a full view of the Isles.

As King’s eyes drift across his father’s landmass form, he spots something that makes his heart skip a beat.

After a moment, he shakes his head irritably. Great - the sunlight’s playing tricks on me.

But he could swear he’d seen…

He looks in that direction again, more tentatively.

And there they are.

No.

No, not them.

How? How are they here??

The Collector seems to notice King’s stunned silence and frowns in a bit of concern, waving a hand in front of his face. “King? You there?”

King doesn’t respond. After a long moment, they follow his gaze, eyes glowing as he uses his powers to zoom in their vision. As soon as he does, the Collector gives a start, eyes widening. “Whoa- I know those guys!” Then their eyes narrow as he adds, “They’re weird.”

A shudder runs down King’s spine, making his fur stand on end. “We have to go back. Back to the Archives.”

“What? Why?” The Collector asks, baffled. “We haven’t even started the game yet!”

“If they find me…” King chooses his words carefully, trying to find some way to phrase them in a way that’ll help the Collector understand the urgency of the situation.

“They’ll take me away from you. Permanently.”

During the afternoon, Bill had sent out three search parties of four Trappers each. Their orders: search the kingdom for their quarry, making sure to lie low. As soon as the Titan child was reported found, they would all return, taking it to their rudimentary base in order to complete the ritual sacrifice.

Bill himself had taken three Trappers along for a fourth group, and they’re trudging along the ribcage toward the head. The youngest one of the group holds the task of clambering up each rib they come across and using that vantage point to scout for any sign of the Titan’s son.

Navigating the Isles has proven more difficult than they bargained for, as the entire place is glitter-ized with a cosmic pastel aesthetic, part of which being massive, floating blue star structures with menacing red eyes that turn anyone they zap into dolled-up, vacant-eyed versions of themselves. To top it all off, there’s some sort of structure balancing on the tip of the Isles’s horn, one shaped like a massive crown.

It’s well into the night before they finally spot what they’re looking for.

The young Trapper is peering through his sin-oculars when he lets out a shout from his perch. When the others approach, he says, “I saw something - some sort of… flat star? But the Titan child was definitely on there.”

Bill gives a start of surprise. “Wha-? Let me see!” he orders, snatching up the sin-oculars and using them himself. Zooming in, he sees the star the young Trapper described, and following it, he realizes it’s heading for the crown-like structure on the tip of the Titan’s horn. He grins.

That’s where we’re going.

Through some trial and error, the group is able to enter the structure. Bill commands them to split up and search every nook and cranny of this place until their prey is found.

Soon enough, he reaches a hole leading to a floating bedroom in the shape of a small moon.

From the bed on the right comes the unmistakable glint of horns.

There he is.

Bill feels almost lightheaded with delight.

Ducking his head out of the hole, he scrambles several paces back, then pulls out a contact crow. “Get everyone back to the base,” he whispers gruffly. “I found it.”

He returns to the bedroom almost at a run, aiming for the moon - overshooting and promptly crashing into it. Shaking his head, Bill clambers up the right side until the bed is in view.

Slowly, carefully, he creeps up to the bed to peer at his soundly sleeping quarry. After a moment, King flinches in his sleep, as if sensing something looming over him - then sits bolt upright in bed, leveling a startled look at Bill.

He opens his mouth, presumably either to call for help or blast the Titan Trapper away with one of his raucous shrieks.

Oh, no you don’t.

Quick as lightning, Bill lashes a hand forward to clamp the young Titan’s mouth shut. His now-muffled cries won’t be heard by anyone. Bill scoops him up.

“No one’ll be around to help you this time,” he growls, narrowing his eyes.

The Collector had been sleeping nice and cozy, until shadows had come and poisoned his dreams, turning them sour.

Pictures that they instinctively knew came from King - the small Titan being dragged off by a short, scruffy guy wearing a Titan-like skull thing, looking terrified. A whole room of what looked like Titan skulls that came with a vague but intense feeling of horror and finality. The whole thing was punctuated by King’s throat-gripping fear and despair.

It’s these that jerk the Collector rudely awake, panic prickling along their spine. Part of them hopes it had been a dream, though he knows that’s not likely.

That hope goes out the window when they glance over at King’s bed and find it empty.

Their core leaps into their throat.

He doesn’t completely understand everything he’d seen, or what they’re supposed to imply, or the feelings around them - he just knows it’s bad, and that King is in more danger than even they could know.

He suddenly remembers, too, that King had warned them something like this would happen. What had his friend said…?

“If they find me, they’ll take me away from you. Permanently.”

The line is punctuated in the Collector’s mind with another flash of the room full of Titan skulls - ones that are all close to the same size as King’s - and the overwhelming sense of foreboding that had come with it.

No. No.

They vault off their bed and through the hole to the rest of the Archives.

I have to find King right now.

The Collector searches the building, his panic growing by the second, but finds nothing. When they finally blast out of the building, they decide they need to narrow down the search and tap into his powers.

As he looks around with zoomed-in sight, it isn’t long before something catches their eye.

A group of people.

When the Collector looks at the Titan skulls - ones that are close to the size of King’s - the group are wearing, that sends many unwelcome thoughts his way.

They’ve been acting weird lately, talking about something bigger and better they could do against Titans.

They took King away.

They might have done something awful (permanent) to him.

They may have done something awful (permanent) to a lot of the little Titans I used to know.

Something finally snaps.

The Collector screeches, a pained cry of rage, and falls upon the Titan Trappers like a storm.

They barely notice the roar of the earth quaking and splitting around them, barely make out the words in the Trappers’ cries to one another. All he can process is a chaotic din of overlapping noise and a mass of swirling figures wearing (King-sized) Titan skulls.

He’s consumed and driven by a single, primal need, a need that burns in every fiber of their being, to blast, tear, hurt something, hurt anything, take all the pain they felt from King and all the pain they themselves feel and let it all out on something, make them feel it all tenfold. He needs to shake the figures around him to their core, cause them all such fear as to make sure they get and stay as far away from everyone he holds dear as possible.

He’s able to focus through the haze around his mind just enough to pin down a Titan Trapper at random, just enough to form his agonized screams into three words.

“WHERE IS HE?”

King doesn’t know how long it takes Bill to reach the Titan Trappers’ base on the Isles - not that he wants to know. Every second that ticks by is torture when he knows it’s a second closer to his own execution. He’s beyond the point of panic; his most overpowering emotion right now is sickening despair.

Suddenly, they both hear something - something faint but unmistakably chaotic. Bill hears it too; he stops and raises a clawed hand to where his ear is underneath the skull he wears. “What the …?” he mutters, starting forward again with more measured steps.

It doesn’t take them much longer to reach a close view of the base. Bill stops again, and King tilts his head forward to have a clear view himself.

The sounds almost aren’t enough to prepare King for the sight.

The base is in complete shambles, the earth cracked and jutting all around it as if a massive fist had collided with it. The Titan Trappers themselves are sprawled and scattered all over, some running away. At the center of it all, floating in the sky, is a familiar figure, intense and moving wildly.

Bill buckles forward upon seeing them. “He’s… free.” His voice is hushed with awe.

King feels the grip on him suddenly jerk tight as Bill rushes down to his camp, the Titan Trapper leader practically radiating manic jubilation. A few of the Trappers see Bill on his way down and their eyes light up, but he pays them no mind as he dashes to the top of the tallest piece of jutting land.

“At last!” He cries out, exulting. “Fortunate smiles upon me, for the day of reckoning has finally come!”

King sees the Collector turn in the air at Bill’s shout, their face blank for a brief second - before it twists into all-consuming rage, his teeth bared and gritted, his eyes blazing. With a shrill, wordless shout, they rocket down toward the Titan Trapper.

Bill looks up at the star child arrowing in his direction; he must be too wrapped up in his euphoria to notice their anger, because he tosses King roughly to the ground and raises his arms to the sky in glee, as if waiting for some sort of reward.

He gets one, but not the one he expects.

The moment the Collector collides with Bill, a sickening crack blasts King’s eardrums.

…

Several moments pass. If there’s not much noise, or if he just can’t hear it over the fading ringing in his ears, King can’t tell.

When he finally opens his eyes, the Titan Trappers are retreating - hurrying back to get their boats together and leave, making sure their wounded are set securely onto the vessels. Tarak in particular carefully takes Bill with him. King only flicks one glance at him and immediately wishes he hadn’t, as the scruffy Trapper’s head is at an angle it definitely shouldn’t be. They seem to be in some sort of daze, not completely knowing what to do with themselves without their leader, but clearly intent on getting out of the Isles as fast as they can - which is just fine with King.

He glances over at the Collector. There are stains of red on their right hand, as well as a few flecks on their face. They’re curled into themselves, shaking - King can’t say if it’s more from shock or their dissipating rage.

Upon realizing that he’d instinctively sent the cosmic child a mental cry for help, King didn’t know what to expect. He certainly didn’t expect to hear them rain calamity down on the Trappers the moment he got close to the base. He’d had a sense that the Collector may genuinely care about him, and what happened to him, but it would appear he’d underestimated just how much.

Tentatively, King approaches his friend and sits by him, wrapping his tail around his hind limbs and resting his chin on his knees. He feels a slight weight as the Collector leans onto him a bit, and looking up, sees their face crinkled with an internal knot of emotion.

Two godlike children sit silently over a shore. One looks at nothing, the other carefully observes everything.

#the owl house #the owl house au #toh au #tide of tied minds #the owl house fic #toh fic #toh the collector #the collector toh #the collector #toh king #king clawthorne #toh titan trappers #titan trappers #toh bill #toh tarak #my jottins #tw character death #tw kidnapping

63 notes · View notes

hazbinhotell0v3r · 2 months

Text

Look At that! (Hazbin Hotel tkl tumblr)

Before I explain everything thing, I wanna thank the people already supporting me. I’m learning the stuff so that my stuff will be more interesting for you guys. The original idea came from: https://www.tumblr.com/alastor-simp/739903161734660096/ticklish-my-dear-alastor-x-reader-oneshot?source=share

——————————————

Summary: As Alastor was walking down a hall, he passed by to check up on Charlie as she was in her room deciding a dress. Alastor give her some suggestions about which one she should wear. Helping Charlie zip up the dress of his choice, he ends up hold her sides making Charlie let out a squeal. Charlie tells Al how sensitive she is and Charlie quickly regrets it.

—————————————

In the evening, Alastor was going through the halls of the hotel on his daily dawn stroll. As he was walking, he heard some noise in Charlie’s room and decided to stop on by to check on her and see what’s happening. “Ugh! I can’t decide which dress to wear. There both so nice!!” Charlie groaned. “Oh, evening Al!” as Charlie saw her good friend from the corner of her eye. “Good evening darling! I hear some problems are going on. Is everything okay?” Alastor asked worriedly. “Oh I’m fine, I just can’t seem to pick what dress to wear today, Vaggie went shopping and she bought them for me, so I really wanna wear one! I just can’t seem to pick one!”

“Well, may I see them?” Alastor asked delightfully. “Sure! There’s a two piece, and a red dress with a cute head band. I have a little black neck tie to wear and they go nice with both!” Charlie answered in a bubbly tone.

“I think the 2 piece would look quite charming on you!” Alastor suggested. “Okay, I’ll go put it on and fix my hair. As Alastor waited, he sat down on an armchair looking at the wall of pictures Charlie had of all the fun times her and the crew had. “Okay, I put it on and I did my hair, how do I look?”

“You look like the princess you are!” Alastor stated. “Thanks Al! Oh, and can you zip the side of my skirt? It’s a bit far back and I can’t reach.” Charlie asked Al. “No Problem!” Alastor said as he walked over to zip up the skirt infront of the mirror. “Purfect my-“ Alastor was interrupted by a squeal that Charlie mad when she jumped. “Is everything okay darling, did I hurt you?” Alastor asked in a nervous voice. “ No no Al it’s just, just that my sides are sensitive.”

Alastor asked, “Sensitive meaning?” “Very ticklish.” After hearing that, Alastor stared wide-eyed to Charlie, “Ticklish?” he reapeted after Charlie. “Yeah…” After Charlie saw his face, she knew exactly what he had been thinking and she tried to run out the room but before she knew it, The Radio Demon had snapped her right back to her bed. Charlie could feel something crawling on her skin realizing that it had been Alastor’s shadow tentacles holding her legs down. “ALASTOR” she screamed angrily as tentacles caught her arms before she could throw a punch.

“Ahal, you don’t really have to do this. Rehembee when you said I looked like th princess I am?! W-well now IyAHAHAHAHAH” the princess couldn’t finish as the Radio demon already started to lightly scitter his claws against her sides. “I just got my claws sharpened, let’s see what they can do dear!” Alastor teased as he slowly went from his sides, to her belly. Charlie’s laughing, turned to screams of joy. “Look at that! Our young princess I squeamish when her belly is scratched the right way.” Alastor’s chuckled, teasing wasn’t very helpful to Charlie as her face was heating up from blushing.

“AHAHAL, IHIHTS NOHOHOT FUHUHUNHEY!!” Charlie scream in joyous laughter. Soon, he had only told the shadows to release her legs and go up and cover her eyes. “ALASTOR” is all she screamed once she saw nothing but darkness as the Radio Demon had stopped scratching her stomach. “Hmm, I wonder if these little hoofs are ticklish dear, don’t you?” But the only response he got was giggles siente he had been spidering from her hips, slowing down to her shoes.

“Ahahal, p-please don’t do this!” she said nervously as she felt the Demon pull up her one of her shoes. “3…2…” and before Alastor could get to while Charlie was pleading, he already started and she has been scream and blushing her head of turning her face away from the Radio Demon. “How adorable! Don’t hide you pretty face from me darling!” Charlie couldn’t even open her eyes, nor speak. She was so helpless and vulnerable, she hates how ticklish she was because it was a major weakness she had.

“Okay, I think it’s time I give you a break.” Alastor said as the shadows crawled away and Alastor slipped the shoe of the princess back in her foot” she was panting and could still feel the tingle of the giggles on her foot. “Seems like the princess had a fun time now, did you darling?” He chuckled and teased. “Yeah, totally” the Princess said sarcastically and rolling her eyes. “Well I have to go some work to do, I’m supposing that you’ll be in your way to the Radio Station?” Charlie smirked and walked out the room.

They both went there, Alastor who has been satisfied, and Charlie who had still been holding her stomach.

FYI: I don’t get any of my pictures of this app, I got it off google, so if I used your art, I’m very sorry.

Should I make a revenge story?

#hazbin hotel tickles #hazbin hotel #tickle #wholesome

8 notes · View notes

whumpsday · 11 months

Note

Not so much "torture the character" as "put that guy in a situation" ask. Go into this assuming I am a friend of Jim who sorta knows Kane during the third arc.

I show off my pet leech to Kane sometime, while Jim is in the room. Her name is Mildred and she lives in a little fish bowl. I don't hesitate to tell him fun facts.

'"All leeches are biologically both male and female. They produce anti coagulants to keep blood of prey flowing, which makes their very shallow bites dangerous. Some of them eat meat and/or insects instead of solely drinking blood. They live on every continent but Antarctica. There are hundreds of subspecies of leeches worldwide."

I say all of this in a tone of pure joy, occasionally cooing at Mildred and telling her what a good little parasite she is. I feed her some little bits of meat while Kane watches. I offer to let him hold Mildren for a few moments because they're semi-aquatic and can survive out of water. I hold her first so he knows she won't bite, since she's already eaten.

I don't think for a single moment that this could possibly bother him, unless he or Jim directly points it out. I'm very pleased to be showing off my unconventional pet.

-Abraham ♡♡♡

Jim makes you promise the leech won't be biting anyone before you bring it over, because he's squeamish about that stuff. Unaware of the specific vocabulary involved in Kane's torment, he also has no reason to think it'd be an issue.

Kane is wildly uncomfortable when you say leech, and even visibly flinches the first time you say it, but he's too nervous to say anything. As you continue going on about the leech, he notices that your tone is joyous and loving. He's never heard the word used that way before. He slowly starts to become more comfortable with the situation, and even accepts when you offer to let him hold her.

#ask #k&j ask

31 notes · View notes

verdemoun · 20 days

Note

I know that the time warp is mostly just VDL gang but hypothetically if it wasn’t how do you think characters like Hamish and Albert Mason would act in present time? They are my absolute favorite side mission things and I already finished them :[

Albert Mason would struggle so much god bless him but man could barely survive 1899 let alone trying to cross a street in any major city in modern era.

Arthur just has to pick him up by the scruff of his shirt to stop the poor guy getting hit by a car 90% of the time. albert mason needs a monkey backpack for his own safety moreso than sean does.

it's so fun imagining albert interacting with the rest of the VDLs. lenny would help teach him about photoshop and photo editing and after the initial moral dilemma of 'am i doctoring photos to suit my own goals? :c' albert would love photoshop. cackles maniacally as he removes his thumb from photos.

he would have multiple phones just because he liked the cameras on them differently. honestly he would just have a shelf of cameras. side point when people time warp they have everything that was on their persons at the time so he would still have his original camera but the struggle to get prints for an 1880s camera would force him to convert to modern technology. his favorite would be disposable film cameras even if the guilt over the environmental impact would keep him awake at night.

albert would also get along with kieran super well because he has such great vibes and they could infodump on one another. you know when two people with wildly different hyperfixations both just listen to one another talk? that's kieran and albert.

they adore sitting in the backyard as a little window of flourishing nature in the suburbia. arthur is still supervising nervously in case either one of them finds a way to get themselves killed but kieran is merrily tending to his vegetable patch while albert is taking photos of hummingbirds and butterflies

ALBERT WOULD GET SO INTO ENTOMOLOGY AND MACRO PHOTOGRAPHY HE WOULD BE SO PASSIONATE ABOUT SAVING THE BEES. he wanted to save the environment in 1880 imagine him learning about how much diversity there was in insects. this would have only started because there was a spider in his place and he was too scared of it and squeamish to kill it.

he would be a freelance photographer who would still hate pomp. hates taking wedding photos, any kind of formal event, even pet photography would bother him because he's used to real, wild animals not overgroomed dogs that barely look like dogs

but the second other creators asked him to take photos he would be so excited he would really struggle to ask a fair price for his services.

if he had a gun and knew how to use it he would shoot influencers on sight but he loves cosplayers and those hyper-realistic fantasy posable art dolls. he can be caught at any convention very much wondering how much to charge people because he's just so honored to be able to take photos of their creations like artists supporting artists he doesn't want to take their money but he's hella tired of instant noodles too

his true passion would be trying to photograph cryptids he would have an x-files i want to believe tshirt and arthur would go on expeditions to find mothman with him

phew one down lost my mind a little there I ALSO JUST FINISHED HAMISH'S QUESTS I LOVE HIM

he adjusts the fastest purely based on levels of 'do i look like i give a fuck'. oh, we're in the future now? wild.

getting a modern day prosthetic after walking around with a slab of wood for decades would be so mind boggling. let hamish sinclair get a running blade and after a realistic learning period he would love running and getting to enjoy the outdoors and hiking trails with far more independence than 1899 could afford an amputee

he would still share stories about the civil war making it clear he was talking about the civil war and people would just roll with it because what are you meant to do when an otherwise super chill and friendly veteran seems delusional. he has such a captivating way of telling stories it's frankly worth it

he haunts local fishing spots complaining about folks these days and their fancy high tech gear and no one knows how to make their own lure anymore but they all love him

he has the most hideous souped up all terrain all weather fwd mobility scooter he also named buell and he absolutely should not be allowed to drive it because he never received lessons and just decided to figure it out himself at the expense of every pedestrian in his way but he would love being able to go shopping by himself and not needing to rely on people

isaac calls him grandpa but always calls him hamish to his face because hamish would hate being called grandpa but hamish does 110% believe the kids are alright. he lets isaac tie a rope to the back of his scooter and hoons around with the kid on a skateboard.

pulling up to the matthews house blaring the shrill horn of his scooter 'get in loser we're gon' hunting'

he would still live on his own in a prefab cabin arthur very illegally helped him build on public land by the water in his own house building chapter. the fact it is still standing by the time john gets there is a miracle and they practically have to rebuild it from scratch

hamish is blissfully aware/pretending to be blissfully unaware of the absolute glare hosea gives him because arthur will always complain and whine when hosea wants to go fishing with him but if hamish asks arthur's skipping out the door with his fishing rod

no one is allowed to hate on hamish. as much as hosea is bitterly jealous of how well hamish and arthur get along because 'that's my son' hosea, hamish, javier and kieran would all meet up and go fishing on the pier together sharing tips, bait, handmade lures and cook fish on an open fire on the shore

when charles gets there arthur is as nervous about charles meeting hamish as a kid introducing his partner to his parents for the first time. they would get along so well but it wouldn't seem like it. they go hunting together and arthur is so anxious because charles and hamish have pretty much only said hello to each other and are otherwise silent the entire trip but asking each privately later they absolutely adored the other's company and can't wait to see each other again.

#rdr2 timewarp au #hope you expected an essay thank you i love these men

6 notes · View notes