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Us 🥰
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stillfrownyclownlol · 6 months
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Gonna throw up If I can't talk about them-
Bunch of Aiden analysis under the cut because he's just SO OBSESSED CODED AND NOBODY TALKS ABOUT IT 😭 (I will be very weird about it)
The way it's so doomed from the start. He's already so fascinated by her. It's in the little jump he does when she sits in front of him, like a secret they're both in on, like her sitting in front of him is some obscure way of her inviting him into a conversation.
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Why is he like this (not positive but not negative either)
He has such a cocktail of personality traits and, most certainly, mental disorders, and his own history that makes it so, when he's in love, that it WILL blow up in his face.
The fact that he's been homeschooled for his entire life- he has no idea. HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW. He doesnt realize that its not normal. of course he doesn't :( His parents obviously leave him alone for long stretches of time and he doesn't seem to mind this. He hasn't had the chance to develop his social skills at all-
It's why he's so, let's be real, creepy. Ash makes it very clear she's not interested and he just keeps worming his way into her life. He plots so that she'll go on the field trip, he follows her around, he goes to her fucking house on the first day. LIKE, HELLO? RED FLAG?
He's having evil thoughts here I swear 💀
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And already so quickly after meeting her he makes Ash his priority. He asks to sit next to her, he engages and makes an effort to talk to her. Tries to joke around with her. Gives her a nickname. Touches her. He's so touchy.
And defends her!!! When Tyler gets pissed at Ash, he honestly goes off on him even tho he KNOWS Ash can defend herself- and he's so...dark about it. There's a threat hidden behind his words. He's MAD here, right? Tell me I'm not crazy, please-
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He also very clearly has violence on the forefront of his mind 💀 He's the first one to actively attack the phantoms; not to defend himself, not to defend somebody else (well, he pulls Ash out of the way), but for fun. And he's disappointed when they don't scream. He's sadistic, he likes causing pain, it's something he relishes in.
I mean look at how he smiles!!! None of the other kids have such an...active ENJOYMENT in fighting the phantoms, but for Aiden, it's almost like he finds relief in it, some way to vent out his frustrations. He's eager for a fight, for a thrill.
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That's how Aiden sustains himself, he pretty much operates under "I'm here for a good time, not a long time." Everything he does gives him a boost of adrenaline, no matter the consequences. He got into a fight? Eh, who cares about all the bruises, at least it got his blood rushing. Broke a bone while doing parkour or smth? Whatever, the way his stomach dropped when he was falling as totally worth it.
It's a very dangerous mentality to live with, obviously. He's an adrenaline junkie. He's an addict. More than anything else, Aiden wants something that makes him feel alive.
And what makes you feel more alive than love?
Like not to minimise or anything but he's known her for like. 2-3 months- and he's already SO scared of losing her. Like I just don't think he would have had this type of reaction with anybody else besides Ben. He would have absolutely lost his shit if Ash 'died'.
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He's a straight up love junkie. He's obsessive. Nothing beats the high love can give you. It overrules everything else. If Ash (or whoever he's interested in) feels bad because of smth, he's done with it.
He LIKED dying. He LIKED the adrenaline rush. But he won't do it again. Not because he had some realization that he didn't want to die, that he still wanted to live and do things, but because Ash was upset. Because this, this rush of care from her part, the way she was so scared of him dying that she was shaking, nothing could fill the hole in his heart better than that. And now that he has a taste for it, he won't let go easy. He will keep on living- if it means Ash will be by his side.
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Which is a very dangerous position to put her in. Ash already feels responsible for her friends, and she doesn't even know that Aiden has "put" his life in her hands, not that it's her responsibility, because it isn't, but she will certainly feel responsible if Aiden does something FOR her.
Like He's so fucking obsessed and he doesn't even realize it- like look at how he sees her 😭 THE HEAVENLY GLOOOOOOW, LIKE SHES AN ANGEL AND HE THINKS SHE CAN SAVE HIM. BABY SHE CANT, YOU HAVE TO SAVE YOURSELF.
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He could spiral so fucking bad. He could do some absolutely heinous things. Because he just doesn't know. He doesn't know how to love truly, yet. For him love really is that rush of adrenaline, the knife carving out his heart, he could be putty in her hands, or her executioner. This love that can be so obsessive, that he NEEDS it to function, like its water, like its the air he breathes. Its a compulsion, a fixation, a longing that burrows into your very soul. Ash doesn't even know what she's getting herself into-
Godddddd, it makes me so sick/ pos, it's SO FUCKING INTERESTINGGGGGG. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.
I literally cannot function around this drawing 🫠
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The. The hand. That way he's grabbing her. He's pulling her back. Towards HIM. like "this is mine. And I'm not sharing." And that little fucking look in his eyes, he just looks SO fucking pleased with himself. And Ash looks so...resigned. they're so doomed-coded, i love them so bad.
I don't know how I was supposed to NOT make a killer au, when he's just...like that around her.
Love is a wonderful thing. But love is also cruel, it is vicious, it is possessive and obsessive, and it will leave carnage in its wake.
Romantic love is an obsession. It possesses you. You lose your sense of self. You cannot stop thinking about another human being. -Helen Fisher
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aynavaano · 1 month
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Tell me you want me
Hunter x f!reader
Rating: Explicit/NSFW
Wordcount: 3.5k
Summary:
You’re part of Clone Force 99 since a while and have an eye on your Sarge ever since you joined. When you are left alone with him skinny dipping in natural hot springs, things get steamy.
Notes:
Enjoy this little Hunterxf!reader smutlet while we all anxiously wait for the final episode to drop. Reader is part of the squad, she is their medic and has a nickname. All other Batchers make an appearance too. We have fingering and unprotected sex. All happening in the water.
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As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the landscape, you and the squad finally retreat back into the Marauder, weary from another grueling day of repairs after your crash landing a few rotations ago. Dropping your tools with a clatter in the corner, you sink down onto the floor, feeling the exhaustion seep into your bones. The day's work has left you covered in a film of sweat and grime, your skin sticky with oil and dust, again.
"If I have to endure one more shower with that recycled water, I swear..." you mutter under your breath, frustration lacing your words. Despite the pressing need to fill up your rations and change the water in the Marauders system or at least the filters, there was no way off this kriffing rock before you got the ship back up and running. The overly recycled water, depleted and stale, left you feeling far worse than without a shower since the last days.
Suddenly, Tech's voice cuts through the exhaustion, his tone matter-of-fact as he suggests an alternative. "There are geothermal hot springs just a couple of clicks south from here, they are perfectly safe to utilize for personal hygiene," he remarks, drawing everyone's attention.
Wrecker's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "So that's where you've been sneaking off to in the evenings," he says, earning a knowing nod from Tech.
"Why didn't you mention THAT before?" you inquire, taken aback by the revelation. Tech shrugs nonchalantly.
"Nobody asked me and you all seemed content with the ship's refresher,besides I didn’t sneak off I just went there, " he replies simply, earning an eye-roll from Crosshair and a sigh from Hunter.
"Well, looks like we're all going tonight," Hunter declares, scanning the room as everyone nods eagerly. However, Tech interjects with an apologetic tone.
"Except for Echo. I'm sorry, but the mineral composition of the water isn't compatible with your mechanical parts." Echo sighs resignedly.
"Well, Someone has to watch the ship anyway," he remarks, grabbing a ration bar before retreating to the cockpit.
Watching him leave, Hunter urges everyone else to gather their essentials as you prepare for the trip to the hot springs.
Following Tech's lead, you traverse through a dense thicket of trees and across a rugged terrain, the distant plumes of steam already signaling the promise of warm, rejuvenating waters.
When you finally arrive at the steaming natural pools, happiness surges through your veins, eager to immerse yourself in the warm, relaxing waters. You swiftly cast your bag aside and quickly shed your clothes, opting for a skinny dip - a necessity, given that swimwear isn’t something provided by the GAR. But the night is dark enough to conceal your naked body, the dense steam rising from the water further obscuring any view.
As the squad's medic, you've seen them in various states of undress during countless check-ups or emergencies, but you've managed to maintain your own privacy, determined not to stir up any trouble within the group. However, you can’t deny that you have a weak spot for your Sergeant ever since you joined them and enjoyed patching him up a bit too much.
The sound of water splashing nearby interrupts your thoughts, and you turn to see Wrecker paddling around eagerly. "Come on in Mini, it's amazing. We won't peek, I promise," he assures you with a boisterous grin. You chuckle at the affectionate nickname he gave you a while ago, and the others quickly adopted, not wrongly, given that you are barely more than half his size.
With a contented sigh, you lower yourself into the soothing embrace of the hot spring, feeling the tension melt away from your weary muscles. The clean, refreshing sensation of the water provides a stark contrast to the sticky residue left behind by the Marauder's recycled water and it feels incredibly good to finally get rid of it.
Occasionally, a gentle breeze disperses the swirling steam, offering you fleeting glimpses of your crew mates. Your gaze lingers on Hunter, captivated by the droplets cascading from his tousled hair, now freed from his bandana. You trace the lines of his tattoo down over his broad chest as they disappear beneath the surface of the dark water. Despite your best efforts to remain discreet, you find yourself locked in a momentary exchange of gazes with Crosshair, his piercing eyes betraying a knowing awareness.
Your breath catches in your throat as Crosshair maintains his gaze, his lips curling into a sly grin. Wrecker interjects, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Cut it out, Crosshair. You're making her uncomfortable. We promised not to look," he scolds, casting a wary glance in your direction.
“You did” Crosshair hisses at Wrecker before turning his attention back to you, his tone teasing. "Like what you see, Mini?" he quips, his confidence evident, that smug bastard you think to yourself and attempt to muster a confident response in return, but the slight tremor in your voice is betraying you. "Nothing I haven't seen while patching you all up," you retort, hoping to deflect his attention.
“Sure” he groans with a mischievous glint in his eyes but thankfully, he decides to let the matter drop, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief, sinking deeper into the warm embrace of the water, trying to hide your reddened cheeks. Casting a fleeting glance skyward, you marvel at the sight of two moons ascending over the horizon, casting a serene silvery blue glow over the landscape.
Before long, Tech emerges from the water, signaling for the group to prepare to depart. You, however, are reluctant to leave the comforting embrace of the hot springs just yet.
"Already? Can't we stay a bit longer?" you plead, attempting to negotiate for more time.
"It was ample time to get clean," Tech responds, his tone firm. "And we have another full day of repairs before we can leave this planet. You need at least seven standard hours of sleep to—"
You cut him off, feeling frustration bubbling up. "Stop it, Tech," you interject firmly, your disappointment evident.
"I'm only concerned for your well-being," Tech counters, his concern genuine.
"I know, I'm sorry," you answer, softening your tone. "I didn't mean to sound so annoyed. It's just... I can't remember the last time we had something like this. I'd like to soak in the warm water a bit longer. My whole body is sore from our crash, and this feels so good," you explain, hoping to convey your genuine need for relaxation.
Tech hesitates. “I understand, but it’s too dangerous to leave you here alone, besides the way back to the Marauder is …”.
"It's okay, Tech. You go. I'll stay here with her," a voice rings through the thick steam from behind you.
Hunter.
Your heart skips a beat at his unexpected offer, a rush of warmth flooding through you at the thought of him and you being here alone.
It takes a moment for the rest of them to processes his proposition. Finally, Tech breaks the silence "That is an acceptable solution," he states, his usual pragmatic tone cutting through the night.
Relieved you allow yourself to sink back into the soothing warmth of the hot springs, the steam enveloping you like a comforting embrace. In the background, you hear the others bustling about, dressing and gathering their belongings. Amidst the activity, you catch snatches of conversation and you could swear you heard Wrecker grumbling that he also wants to stay, interrupted by a sharp retort from Crosshair.
"Alright," Tech announces, drawing your attention. "We're heading back. I'll leave the comm open in case of unforeseen events. Regardless, please remember it is not recommended to stay longer than two standard hours in water with this temperature" and with that, the group begins their trek back to the Marauder, leaving you and Hunter alone in the quiet of the night.
As the sounds of their footsteps fade into the distance, a slightly uncomfortable silence descends, punctuated only by the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. It’s not the first time you’re alone with Hunter, but THIS, this is different and you are trying to control your heartbeat knowing very well that he can pick that up with his heightened senses.
“Thank you for staying with me Hunter” you whisper through the thick steam wafting over the pool. The thought of him naked in the water, just a few steps away from you sends a shiver through your whole body and you feel the heat pooling between your legs.
Stars, stay calm you try to control the visions overtaking you, flashes of his naked body and his hands all over you flickering through your mind.
You try to catch another glimpse at him past the billowing steam and through an opening you see him slowly treading through the water towards you, his eyes locking on yours, a look of concern on his face. The water reaches barely up to his lower stomach, exposing an ungodly amount of his luscious body, his caramel skin, toned chest and a tempting trail of hair running down his abdomen now illuminated by the silvery glow of the moons, you can’t break your gaze away but you are close to loosing control completely now.
“For someone happily relaxing in a hot bath your heart rate is concerningly high. Are you uncomfortable? Did you change your mind, do you want me to take you back to the Marauder?”
“No, I…I want to stay” is all you can stumble. Him being so concerned and caring is only adding fuel to the fire already burning inside you.
Hunter is right before you now, scanning your face for any signs of distress but the only thing he finds is your bright pink cheeks and dilated pupils.
He carefully brushes a loose strand of your hair from your face, his hand lingering a bit too long to go unnoticed.
“Is this because of me?” he whispers softly, a hint of trepidation in his voice. He lost count of how often he wanted to ask you this, when he felt your heart jump at his touch, when he sensed your eyes lingering on him, but he didn’t dare, knowing a no would destroy him. So he decided to remain oblivious instead of getting hurt. Until now.
You gaze up at him and there is no denying anymore, no hiding, so you nod, not able to voice what you feel for him. That you want him so badly.
And before you know whats happening his lips are on yours. His kiss is soft but quickly getting hungrier and messier. He pulls you closer to him sliding one arm around your waist and you intuitively wrap your legs around him feeling his already hardening cock pressing against your core.
He gasps at the sensation of you grinding your hips against him and breaks away from the kiss, looking deep into your eyes.
“Tell me you want this," Hunter's voice is a low, urgent whisper, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me you want me."
You lean back in to kiss him, desperate for his lips on yours and hungry for more but he breaks away again, searching your face for an answer.
“I’m your Sarge, I don’t want to take advantage of you, I need to hear you say it. Say you want me and I’ll give you everything.”
Your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his intense gaze. "I do, Hunter," you reply without hesitation, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want nothing more than you."
Before you can even finish your words, he pulls you closer again, his arms wrapping around you possessively. The warmth of his embrace fueling your hunger for him and when his lips crash against yours in another searing kiss, you melt into him completely, his tongue trailing along your lips pleating for access.
Your tongues entwine and Hunter's touch feeds the fire within you, every caress sending sparks of heat coursing through your veins. You feel his hands hungrily roaming over your body, down your chest, gently cupping your breasts, leaving a trail of longing wherever they touch you.
His hands slide down to your hips, one hand cupping your ass, pulling you closer as his lips trail down your neck, leaving a line of open mouthes kisses and soft bites in their wake. With each movement, you feel yourself melting into him, your body craving more of his touch and your pussy aching desperately for his attention.
"Stars, you feel amazing," Hunter murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "I've been wanting this for so long."
A soft moan escapes your lips at his words, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water around you. You feel his fingers trailing down to your throbbing core and you can't help but arch into his touch, desperately yearning for more.
He carefully slides his fingers between your slick folds, teasing your clit with a slow gentle rhythm that leaves you gasping for breath. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, quickly building a tension that threatens to unravel you completely in his arms.
He keeps you steady, his strong arms easily holding you up, the water flowing around you, fingers trailing through your slit and finally with a slow, deliberate motion, he slides one finger inside you, giving you a taste of what you so desperately want. You gasp at the sensation of him entering you and arch into his hand, aching for more friction.
"Stars, you're so wet for me," Hunter whispers, his voice low and breathless.
You can't help but beg for more, craving the sensation of him deep inside you, filling you up completely. And as he picks up the pace and slides in another finger, you feel your body tightening, getting ready to explode with pleasure.
"Kriff, I love how responsive you are to my touch." he whispers in your ear, nibbling on your neck.
You let out a few lewd moans and gasps at his words, the sensation of his fingers driving you completely crazy. With each thrust, you feel yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable in its intensity. The tension in your core almost reaching it’s snapping point, two fingers pushing inside you and his thumb rubbing your clit.
And then, with a flick of his wrist, Hunter finds that perfect spot that sends you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your release. Waves of ecstasy wash over you, rippling through your whole body, leaving you trembling in the wake of your orgasm as you cling to him for support.
“Stars, do you know how beautiful you look cuming all over my fingers?” he moans against your skin, looking at you as if you’re the most precious thing in the galaxy.
He slowly slides his fingers out of you to steady you against his chest while you catch your breath. You let out a low whine when he slips out of your core, leaving you feeling empty, and immediately desperate for more. You fumble around trying to reach his cock but he firmly holds you up, both hands under your thighs, his face buried between your breasts.
“Hungry, are we?” he grins up at you, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth and sliding his fingers over your wet folds aching to be stretched again, drawing a couple of lewd sounds from you.
You tilt your head back when he captures your other nipple between his teeth and finally pulls you closer until you're straddling him in the water, your bodies pressed together in a heated embrace. You feel the pressure of his rock hard cock straining against your core, fueling your hunger for him even more.
"I need you," you whisper, your voice barely above a breathless moan, impatiently wiggling around in his arms to line him up at your entrance. When he carefully bites down on your neck, leaving a mark, while squeezing your breast with one hand, you are completely loosing any kind of self control, you might as well just beg.
"Hunter, kriff…please…fuck me"
He looks up finding your gaze and without a word, he guides himself inside you with a single deep thrust, his huge cock stretching you in all the right ways as he fills you completely. You gasp at the sensation of your pussy stretching around him, your body arching into his as he begins to move, each thrust giving you more of what you’ve been longing for ever since you joined the squad. He starts slowly, not far from teasing you, pulling out almost completely a few times, until only his tip rest inside you and then slamming back in until he is buried to the hilt.
The water around you amplifies every sensation, the gentle rocking motion only adding to the intensity of his thrusts. He increases his pace and with each push of his hips against yours, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak, your pussy already clenching around him.
“Fuck, not gonna last long like this” he groans “ …y..you feel too good around my cock…so tight…been dreaming about this too often…”
"I'm close," you whimper, your voice barely above a desperate plea. "Please, Hunter, don't stop."
With a low growl against your neck, he increases the intensity, each thrust pushing you further towards the brink of oblivion. You cling to him, nails digging into his back, grinding your hips against his, to take him as deep as possible until you feel the tip of his cock deliciously pressing against your cervix with every thrust. You wrap your arms around his neck your fingers finding hold in his hair, as you begin shaking, and with a shuddering gasp, you feel the tension in you snap and the first wave of pleasure crashing over you with an intensity you haven’t felt before, stars exploding before your eyes, your whole body trembling as you ride out the waves of your orgasm on his cock without slowing down.
He keeps fucking you through your high, drawing more moans and gasps from you until you feel him tense too, his length pressing even harder against your walls.
“Where do you want me?” he gasps.
“Inside” is all you can get out with a loud moan, your pussy still clenching around his cock and you feel Hunter's own release echoing yours, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. With a final thrust, he spills himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his warm cum as you both ride out the waves of pleasure ripping through you together.
You cling to each other, panting, your bodies pressed together in a sweet embrace as you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You let your fingers trail through his hair and softly trace the lines of his tattoo looking at him in awe, completely blissed out. He let’s his forehead rest against yours and you are exchanging soft loving kisses when you suddenly hear your comms crackle from somewhere beside the pool.
“Hunter are you listening… Hunter…Mini… “
“noooo Tech…leave them” you hear clattering and a voice in the background
“Hunter do you hear me? Even though Crosshair suggested you are not solely bathing but possibly engaging in intercourse I recommend you get out of the water. The time you spent there is unacceptable and will negatively affect your blood circulation. Mini… I’m sure you know that, you’re the medic. Do you hear me? It’s clearly been too long. Get out of ther…” the comm crackles again, weird noises and mumbling in the background until you hear Crosshair.
“Sorry for the interruption Sarge, I couldn’t stop him, just give us a sign when you’re headed back” and with that the comm falls silent again.
You can’t help but blush, feeling a bit exposed before the whole squad not even knowing where this is going or if it was just a one time thing. You desperately hope it’s not, when you said you want him, you meant it but you’re to afraid to ask how he is feeling, so you just revel in the heat radiating from his body drinking up every scent, every detail while it lasts, legs still wrapped around his waist, holding him close, fingers trailing trough his hair. Hunter nestles his head in your neck, pulling you even closer to his chest, leaving a few soft kisses along the way while his softening cock is slowly slipping out of you.
“Let’s get back to the Marauder then” he murmurs against your skin, “at least it seems they already suspect whats going on and appear to be ok with us being together…sleep in my bunk tonight?”
Your heart beams at his question, pounding in your chest.
“Guess that’s a yes” he chuckles, giving you one last loving kiss before he sets you on the edge of the pool to get ready for heading back to the ship.
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grandlinedreams · 8 months
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Hii I just found out about your blog today! I really like your writing 🤭 Can I request a straw hat reader and law trying to keep their relationship a secret but they failed. Then the reaction from both crews! Thank you!
Hi bb!! Thank-you, I'm honored!! 🥺💖 but oh absolutely!! I hope this is to your liking, bb! (Ig this is a little non-canon? indeterminate setting)
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Palm up, you stare at the little square of white that inches across your skin at a steady pace. There are limits to vivre cards, you know that ㅡ but you can't help but silently will everything involved to move faster.
"You're not sneaky, you know." You whirl, finding Nami leaning against the doorway with an amused look on her face, arms folded across her chest.
"I don't know what you mean," you say warily, mentally kicking yourself for pulling the paper out without making sure you wouldn't be spotted with it, even as your fingers close around it protectively.
Nami's head tilts. "That secret candy stash," she says, "you're not very good at hiding it. You're just lucky that Luffy hasn't figured out where to look yet."
"Oh," you answer, trying not to sound too relieved that she doesn't mean the vivre card you've been watching for the last ten minutes. "Right. I'll have to move it around, then."
Nami studies you silently for a moment in which you're almost certain she knows, but then she pulls from the doorway with a sigh. "We're supposed to be meeting up with the Heart Pirates, so you might want to come out and join us before Luffy figures that something is up."
"Right behind you," you answer, waiting until she turns to put the vivre card away and moving to follow. Outside, you're just in time to watch the swell of waves break, exposing gleaming yellow metal.
"There they are!" Luffy crows excitedly from where he's perched atop his usual seat, waving to the Polar Tang despite the fact that nobody can see him yet.
"Remind me why we're still letting them hang around?" Zoro asks and you turn towards him, though Robin answers for you.
"Because it's important to keep good relations with our allies." She glances towards you. "You agree, don't you?"
You swear there's something in her gaze, a glint of amusement that runs deeper than watching you fumble to agree.
"Whatever," huffs Zoro. "Still think that guy's full of himself."
You bite your tongue, waiting until you're certain you won't say something you regret. "Luffy is our Captain, Zoro. If he trusts them, then we should too."
You feel a lot more than trust towards Trafalgar Law. But though it's gotten easier to keep those feelings under lock and key, it's still hard to not want to bounce forward and fling your arms around him the way Luffy does.
"Traffy!! Good to see you!"
"I've told you to stop calling me that, Strawhat," Law grouses, struggling to free himself from the rubber man's grip. "And get off me!"
Luffy seems far from upset by Law's greeting, cheerful grin still wide and bright as he lets go to offer the same greeting to Bepo, just a few feet behind his Captain.
You pretend not to notice when Law glances at you, your own attention pointedly fixed on some obscure point until you can't feel the weight of his gaze anymore. Only then do you lett yourself look back at him, fingers twitching at the memory of his vivre card on your palm.
Luffy's plan for the ally rendezvous ends up being to anchor both the Sunny and the Polar Tang at the back coast of a nearby island with the intent to keep either crew from being spotted and recognized. (It's more Law's idea, but all he does is roll his eyes when Luffy repeats it with much more enthusiasm.)
After that it's a blur of cooking food in the kitchen, platters laden down with piles of food and lowered down onto the beach, where a bonfire (small and carefully contained) is going at Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper's request.
"Is there a reason you're avoiding me?"
"I'm not avoiding you," you say from where you're picking up dry kindling for the bonfire. "Didn't we agree not to tell either of our crews we're together?"
"True," Law agrees as he approaches, "but I hardly think pretending that I don't exist at all is going to work either. They'll think you hate me."
"I think Zoro has that covered," you mumble. "But you know I don't hate you, Law."
"I do?" There's a hint of amusement in his tone, smirk tugging at his lips. He's teasing you, the jerk. "Could have fooled me."
You roll your eyes. "What if you're the one who hates me? Hm?"
He approaches, the height difference all the clearer for how he seems to tower over you, even as he leans down. "Hate is the furthest word from how I feel about you."
You've only shared a handful of kisses with Law and each time, you've been the one to initiate them. Perhaps a testament to how he's missed you, Law leans in, lips pressing against yours.
Your eyes close, and you're tempted to drop the bundle of wood in your hands in favor of curling them into his shirt ㅡ only to break apart at the same time as Law at the sound of your Captain's voice in tandem with Bepo's.
"Hey Traffy!! Where'd you go?"
"Captain? Captain!"
Law sighs. "So much for that," he says, pulling away from you completely and turning back in the direction that he'd come from. "Don't take too long coming back either, or they'll think you got eaten by a Sea King."
Watching his back, it's only then that you realize he's somehow eased the bundle of sticks from your grip and walked away with it ㅡ effectively leaving you with zero reason as to why you'd left in the first place.
"Jerk," you mutter, but you're smiling, bringing a hand up to trace your lips and the lingering warmth.
Sunset is a milky blend of reds and oranges, vibrant against the deep blue of the sea, inciting a deeper sense of contentment that makes you dig your feet into the sunwarmed sand.
"Comfortable?" Law seats himself beside you without preamble, the brush of his arm against yours intentional. You debate for a moment before you lean against him, gaze flicking upward to watch his lips curve into a softer smile when you rest your head on his shoulder.
"I am now," you mumble, let your eyes drift shut as you try to commit this to memory. "I wish we saw each other more."
There's a deeper meaning to it, a wholly selfish want for something more stable than what you have ㅡ going months at a time without sreing each other, vivre cards the only way of guaranteed safety. (It isn't safety, not really. Just the reassurance that the other is still alive.)
"I know." Law answers. "...every time I hear about whatever stunt you lot have pulled, I check your vivre card." Another deeper meaning, vulnerability where he usually can't afford it. "We could tell them, you know."
You snort. "Tell them what? 'Sorry, we've been dating behind your back for the last two years?'"
"You're dating Traffy?"
You feel Law tense under your head at Luffy's voice, and you turn to find him staring at the two of you.
Shit.
"Luffy, I, uhㅡ"
"Yes," Law cuts in, "we are." It startles you, how freely he's admitting to it now when he's the one who wanted to be so damn careful about it.
"Oh," Luffy says. And then he grins. "That's so cool! I mean, as long as you're not gonna steal [Name] and make them join you all the time."
You wonder if somewhere down the line, you've hit your head and entered a different dimension. Surely you have, for Law to be so blasé in admitting to your relationship and Luffy ㅡ well, that's on par for him.
Luffy takes it a step further, however, turning and cupping his hands around his mouth. "You guys!! Did you know Traffy and [Name] were dating?"
You flinch, Law's expression unreadable as there's an answering call ㅡ Shachi.
"No offense Captain, but we figured it out last year!"
"I thought they seemed awful chummy! Congrats, you two!" Nami.
And then Luffy is bounding off back to the others, and your shoulders slump. "Well, that was a lot of worry for nothing," you lament, though you reach for Law's hand, lacing your fingers before you stand, tugging him to his feet. "Come on, boyfriend. We have some explaining to do."
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koisuko · 5 months
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Based on a dream:
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Tw: angst, gn reader, mentions of blood, established relationship
“Ghost!” Your voice left your lips in nothing more than a whisper. The name echoing in the foggy nothingness surrounding you, reaching nobody's ears but your own. The space seemed obscured, a strange bluish tint, subtle but still noticeable with a careful eye. The nightlife you would expect seemed dead silent, furthering the unease you already felt. Regardless, you kept running. Your feet thumping against the wet grass beneath you, pumping your legs as fast as you could until the muscles burned and ached. The air in your lungs felt like fire with each heavy breath. Something lingered behind you, looming over your shoulder with the promise of harm. You don’t know what, or who, you were running from, but you know where you were running to. Keep going. Don’t stop, there will be a way, you thought.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of repeating scenery, you reached the lawn of a familiar homestead. Only taking a split second of a break before running again, tears streaming down your cheeks with each shaky breath in. Strangely enough, the heavy fog still blanketed the area, not once fading except to reveal the house you came across. It almost felt like running on a treadmill, hardly able to discern whether you were going forward or back.
You reached the porch of the small home, taking a breath at the stairs before once again pleading for an answer, “Ghost!” Nothing. All hope is leaking away in an open wound in your heart. Until suddenly, the familiar footsteps approached rapidly. Bursting through the door, he stood, looking off with wide eyes to the darkened woods around him. “Ghost, I found you!” It felt like a chore to speak, your voice coming out weaker than intended. He looked different, his eyes heavy with melancholy and lips plastered with a permanent frown. Bags of sleepless nights accumulated under his eyes, stubble covering his usually smooth jaw. Slowly, you moved to wrap your arms around his waist in a tender embrace. Touching him felt…different, vacant and cold. You sat there for a moment, holding him tight, yet he never reciprocated. Instead, you felt him shiver in your hold, goosebumps rising on his exposed skin. A quivered sigh left his lips, compelling you to lift your head from his chest and meet the gaze of those deep brown pools you love so much. As you did, you were caught off guard by the fact that he wasn’t looking at you. More like, he was looking past you, beyond your figure to the landscape behind you. Cranking your head, you looked to where he seemed to peer longingly, only to see nothing peculiar that caught your attention. “What’s wrong, love?” You asked, your voice was smooth and sweet, a voice you only used with him, your beloved. Nothing. He gave you no response as he turned to leave back inside. Did you do something wrong?
You followed behind him, your brows knitting together in concern of his odd behavior. He may be distant to many, but never has he blatantly ignored you. The thick fog from outside seemed to leak into the house. You found it odd, unnerving even, but focused your attention back to your husband. You watched him move to sit on the floor of the kitchen, leaning his back against the cabinets. His head fell forward, eyes closed presumably in deep thought. “Honey, talk to me.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze as you sat beside him.
You two often did this, sitting beside each other on the kitchen floor, talking for hours on end about shit no one else cared to listen to. It was your favorite pastime, your favorite activity after a hard day. He always gave you his undivided attention, dedicating his time to lending you an ear when everyone else brushed your words off like dust.
Once again, you were met with silence. However, you refused to give up. This wasn’t unusual for him, some days he felt no need to speak, or he was too exhausted to communicate. So, instead of pinning it on him as some form of punishment, you held patience and understanding. “Is there anything I can do?” You uttered, “I can make you some te-“ your words were cut short by his raspy voice beside you, “I miss you..so fucking much.” His voice was broken, a subtle sign of his deepest emotions that was all too foreign to anyone in his life but you. The way he spoke sounded more like a prayer to no one than a statement directly to you. You turned to look at him again, taken aback by the tears streaming down his face, painting his features in a somber display. You realized now, seeing him under the light of the kitchen, that he looked like a broken version of the man you once knew. What had you missed in the short time you were gone?
Truthfully, you don’t remember anything past waking up in the woods. What had happened to you was entirely unknown to you. You decided not to think too deep on it, focusing on the depressing man before you. “Simon,” you gingerly wrapped your arms around his shoulders, “I’m right here, no need to miss me anymore.” He made no attempt to lift his head, his shoulders continued to shake with the sobs racking his body. You moved to place a finger under his chin, in an attempt to lift his gaze to meet your own, only for him to refuse to budge. Almost like attempting to rearrange a statue with your bare hands. This struck you, what did you do to hurt him? He’s never resisted your comfort, despite being a man of few words and an aversion to physical touch. Your mind spiraled slightly, and in an attempt to center yourself, you lowered your lips to his. Curious, it felt more like kissing someone in a dream, tingly and distant, as if your lips never actually connected. Your heart broke as his lips remained fastened in place. You leaned back, tears welling in your eyes as you glanced at him once again. His right hand held the necklace tight around his neck, his head lifting slightly to rest against the cabinets.
The necklace, the one he gave you on your second anniversary. Instinctively, you brought your hand to your neck where that necklace once was, only to find a vacant space of bare skin. He clutched it tighter before speaking, “it should have been me,” he muttered in a voice so heartbreaking. Then, it hit you. The memories came flooding into your mind like a tsunami. The forest, a man, bleeding on the cold forest floor at the dead of night. You were running from him, yet that wound you remember so vaguely seemed to be non-existent.
You stumbled back, landing on your backside as you scoot away in a frantic attempt to collect yourself. It all made sense now. The fog, the endless abyss surrounding you, the echo of your voice into nothingness, how he treated you like you weren’t even there. All this time, it was already too late.
You were already dead.
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ikkosu · 2 months
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IKKO, very very important question 🫡💚. How would Pharma act if both him and maybe Tarn or prowl (your choice🫶) were after one persons affection
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RAGGHH 🛐🛐🛐 MORNING COMPY!!! :D ❤️❤️❤️❤️🫂🫂
Important question indeed. And of the highest order too 😺☝️ long ramble below because I love those two to bits !!
I wasn't sure if you meant love triangle or individually 😭
Prowl wouldn't act on his affections. He'd hide it at first. And would would battle a long churning conflict between his logical side and his feelings — over countless cubes of engex Ratchet would diagnose him dead after
Mister-cold-to-the-bones-I'd-rather-die-than-ever-smile would definitely manipulate your surroundings to get him closer to you.
He'll move your schedule around, your seat placement (no harm in a little thigh touching, eh?) Maybe even discussing with Optimus about your 'work ethics' so he can flunk out your current superior to take his place. Yeah, sure. Totally because they were under performing. Totally.
He knows you yap alot, ranting about things in general so he purposely dawdles by until you notice him and just,,run your mouth
He pretends he's grumbling, saying it's wasitng his time but he's literally recording EVERYTHING you say so he can recharge to it at night (poor little pookie has nightmares, :( doesn't have anyone to coax him)
And you're always so surprised when he remembers an obscure fact about you,,,like sir,,,that's,,,a little 😅 um
but still you chalk it up to him being the strategic officer in charge of information, so not surprised that he knows
Despite his blatant attitude to you, you really don't fucking know what's his problem. Does he hate you? Does he think you're that bad at your job hes finally taking reign over your responsibilities?
So, confusing. He's like,,,got this stare that borders between his usual scowl and a squint.
And while you think you're about to get demoted, it usually means he's saving a picture of you in his processors. 😭😭 And a little note for it too (new shirt today, very nice.)
He's the type to be so stoned up and cold when he's approaching you, but the moment you smile at him (while imperceptible to you) Internally he feels like hauling himself off a bridge
Why do you exist, if not to make a fool out of him?!???2!#(
Pathetic pining. 100 percent
Doctor pharma on the other hand,,,,just invades your boundaries
🤨he's lucky he's naturally charming, you're not even suspecting why he's suddenly more interested in your wound stitching skills.
He's got his servos on you and guiding you through it and shit, whispering into your ear : "good little pet" for following his instructions to a t. He's obvious about his affections but not so vocal because while he recognizes hes caught some feelings for you there's no way he's going to be the one admitting it
So he showers you with gifts, flowers, and chocolates, waiting for the day you're going to realize what it all means.
Nope. You don't. Because a) you either think he's messing with you, ratchet did say he's kind of a flirt to everyone b) pharma being pharma c) asking you to cover another late night shift, which coincidentally, gets you stuck with him
Like prowl, since he's your superior, there's going to be a lot of schedule tampering and unlike Prowl he gets jealous, very easily.
(Prowl does get jealous. Nobody really likes him and he thinks you're obv going to like someone that's wayyy more genial and warmer than what he is. But he keeps it to himself because at least you're interacting with him)
Pharma gets,,, obvious about his jealousy in a very passive aggressive way which sometimes gives way to physical confrontations (pulling you away by your waist, getting in between you and the meh you're talking with, shooting daggers at the person who so much as to praise you)
Messy, messy doctor.
Oughhh so much things to add. Okay but more wholesomely, theyre both the type to put a blanket over you wen you're asleep at your desk, or giving you a drink when you're tired. Basically the tiny acts of kindness that's makes me go oughhh 🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭
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coalswriting · 10 months
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murder and rescue ii - natalie scatorccio
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summary – ghostface makes a return with a bit of help (approx. 1.6k words) >> part i <<
tw; murder, mentions of sexual assault, slight homophobia/fetishization of lesbians, natalie, reader, and misty are evil in a Fucked Up Way
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finding out that natalie scatorccio was ghostface was not something that existed on your yearly bingo. you hadn’t talked much about it since the night at the party, and some twisted part of you didn’t seem to mind that she was a murderer. in fact, you found it energising, exciting, intriguing. these, you decided one day as you listened to music and stared at your bedroom ceiling, were not the words you should have been using to describe your girlfriend. maybe you were as messed up as she was.
natalie had killed a few more times since the party. there was a guy that misty was having trouble with. he had felt her up in the middle of a lab and he didn’t stop even when she pushed his hand away. she couldn’t tell anybody because he was the son of a well-respected teacher. misty wasn’t his first, nor last victim. she found out who ghostface was (seriously, the girl was basically a detective), and instead of handing the information to the police, she actually asked nat to take care of him. this is how misty, natalie and you became a trio; your house was the hideout, natalie was the killer, and misty was the medic and brains.  
every time nat would show up outside your window at an obscure time, you always unlocked the door for her, let her run a hot bath, and hid her outfit. then, the two of you would passionately make out and love each other until dawn; the thrill was sickeningly addicting. this system had worked for a few kills, but eventually natalie stopped. justice was served, and you assumed that the predators of wiskayok high had ceased their ways. that was until two months later.
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natalie pushed you into a bathroom cubicle, pinning you against the wall. you moaned as her lips attached themselves to your neck, kissing you down to your shoulder of which she pulled the hem of your shirt to reveal. “nat,” you breathed heavily, warmth pooling into your stomach. your girlfriend smirked, bringing her mouth to your ear.
“shut up,” she whispered huskily before nibbling your lobe. your hands clasped themselves onto her hips as you pulled her closer. suddenly, a hand covered your mouth as natalie went stiff. you heard three or four voices enter the bathroom and then the unzipping of (presumably) a makeup bag.
“what is it that you wanted to tell us, allie?” one of the girls said, “you’ve been looking nervous all day.”
“well”, you heard allie’s voice, “you know patrick johnson?”, followed by a few ‘mhhmms’, “he forced himself on my sister at a party a few nights ago. i couldn’t go and protect her, i was sick. she’s been closed off ever since and she won’t tell me exactly what he did. i’m so worried…”
natalie’s eyebrows rose in curiosity as the both of you listened. you heard the girls reassure allie before one of them piqued up, “he’s really evil, i’m sorry. he did the same to tamara too… nobody believed her so she dropped out to avoid him. she was so lovely too.”
after consoling allie for a few minutes, all the girls went back to their classes. natalie finally took her hand off your mouth and whispered to you, “we need to get that bastard.”
you only nodded in return.
“i’ll tell misty to meet at yours tonight and we can plan it?”
“yeah,” you murmured, “looks like ghostface is back.”
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the three of you stalked your prey over the period of a few weeks. you found his phone number and took note of his patterns: he always arrived at school ten minutes before assembly and used his locker first, after third period, he always went the bathroom, and he walked a friend home every day. most nights, he was home alone because his mother worked the night shift. his lights were off by 11pm most nights, and he almost always forgot to lock the back door.
it was 3am on a tuesday when you rang his phone. with the help of misty, you had installed a voice changer into your own device, and he answered after the third ring, voice sleepy and tired.
“uhhh, hello?”
you smiled as you spoke, “is this patrick johnson?”
you heard a shuffling on his side before he finally answered, “who is this?”
you watched from the bushes as natalie slipped her way towards his garden, hugging the wall. she was donning the ghostface costume, knife hidden under a fold of fabric. “you need to tell me, are you patrick johnson? this is serious.”
“fuck off”, is all he said before he hung up his phone. your eyes darkened as you rang again, and he picked up faster this time.
“seriously, who is this? don’t mess with me.”
“patrick,” you said, voice barely a whisper, “have you seen any horror movies?”
“uh, yeah, a few. why?”
you ignored his question, continuing with yours, “do you know what motives the killers normally have?”
“they’re normally insane, like you,” he growled, and you heard him hang the phone up again.
so, you rang again.
“fuck off, leave me alone. i’ll come and kill you,” he threatened, seething from anger.
“you’re right,” you said, darkly, “they normally are insane. but they can have motives too. have you heard of ghostface?”
when patrick didn’t reply, you continued to talk, “ghostface only kills people that deserve it.”
his voice was shaky as he cut you off before you could talk more, “is this ghostface?! i didn’t do anything!”
“i’m not ghostface”, you said simply, “but you did, patrick. you hurt a lot of young girls, didn’t you?”
“wait, listen to me! they never said no! leave me alone-“
“i didn’t finish,” you growled, shutting him up, “as i was saying; i’m not ghostface, but look behind you.”
you heard shuffling again, and then a muffled scream through the phone alongside the sound of the device being dropped. there was an audible struggle as he pleaded for his life. your smile grew wider. the tussle appeared to last about three minutes until everything fell eerily quiet. then, you heard someone pick up the phone, and the voice of your girlfriend rung out, quiet and still, “come in.”
you sauntered in through the back door, entering his kitchen. the phone he had used to call you was left discarded, a few feet away from the counter. you stomped on it, breaking it to pieces before turning to your girlfriend. she stood over the body, breathing heavily. stepping over the corpse of patrick johnson, you ripped the mask off ghostface, watching as her hair cascaded down her shoulders like it had the first time she revealed herself to you. she looked like a goddess, basked in an omnipotent light. you felt your heart flutter, watching blood drip down her lips.
“he got me good”, she said, smiling at you. she then looked down at the deceased, an animalistic grin painting her features. her eyes were wide; not with fear but with fascination – the adrenaline of the hunt was taking her over, as if she wasn’t herself.  
snapping her out of her admiration, you wiped her bloody nose with your thumb before you brought your lips to hers. the kiss was passionate, and you could taste the metallic taste on her mouth, though that didn’t deter you. her hands trailed down your body before resting on your hips and before you could escalate the kiss, you heard the jingle of keys coming from the front door. you pulled away from your girlfriend as she put the mask back on and you pulled your hood over your head. taking the knife out of the corpse, she ran out the back door she had come in from, you following her. nobody saw you.
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you closed the suitcase that contained natalies now clean costume, sliding it under your bed. she met your gaze as you entered the bathroom, slipping into the bathtub with her. natalie pulled you into her chest, brushing your hair with her hands as you both relaxed in the hot water. you hummed relaxingly, before looking up at her.
“i love you”, you confessed. though this was not the first time natalie had heard you say this, her heart still began to beat a little harder than before and you chuckled, “i can feel your heart!”
“shut up,” she gave you a playful slap on the thigh before sighing gently, “love ya too.”
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the next morning came faster than you had expected, and as you, natalie, and misty sat in your assembly, an announcement came through the speakers.
patrick johnson was dead; a suspected murder.
misty, natalie, and yourself gave each other fake confused looks as you peered around the classroom, a small hint of amusement in your faces. everybody burst into chatter and discussion, theorising who killed patrick. not many seemed to be particularly sad, moreso than they were curious. misty continued to doodle in her copy whereas natalie shrugged her shoulders at you.
“people seemed to be kind of hopeful”, you stated later, as you walked natalie home, hands interlocked.
“yeah, it was weird. i thought people would be at least a little sad that he died but i guess he wasn’t too popular with anybody from the beginning. he really did deserve it”, your girlfriend said, a small smirk on her face.
a car drove past you full of football players. they stopped on the road a few feet ahead and began catcalling you.
“why don’t you two make out? let us see some girl on girl action!”, someone yelled out. the boys erupted into laughter before continuing to drive on.  
you groaned, disgusted.
natalie squeezed your hand a little tighter, a reassuring glint in her eyes. “hey, hey, it’s okay. ghostface will get them,” she whispered deviously.
you looked ahead, watching the car drive off. maybe ghostface would get them; maybe he was back for good – or at least until you’d all get caught.
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comicaurora · 1 year
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Following off the last ask, do you have any advice on how to write a hard magic system? Since it usually has to be cohesive and fit together, how do you start?
First principles. Establish a set of unyielding axioms of How Magic Works and then start asking yourself what the consequences of those axioms are. It's very math-y to me - I think of it the same way as, for instance, defining a group as a set of values and an operation that combines elements of that set according to a specifically defined rule. Like how the integers can be built from the unit value 1, the addition operation + and its inverse. You can proof-by-induction your way through generating every integer from just those first principles, and everything that exists in the integer group follows from those facts. Extrapolating logically from established axioms is how a huge amount of algebraic shenanigans happen. Anyway, math is not necessary for this, but if you happen to be mathematically-minded, this approach of worldbuilding will feel extremely natural.
In ATLA, those first principles are:
There are four elements.
There are people who can "bend" one of those elements, giving them control over it that can be improved through training.
There is an Avatar, who can bend all four elements and is reborn when they die. The Avatar is a fixed point in the world and exists to maintain balance. The Avatar is also uniquely capable of interacting with a "spirit world" that almost nobody else ever directly deals with.
Everything in the magic system extrapolates from one or more of these axioms. What is lightning? Well, axiom 1 says there are 4 elements, so lightning is one of them, making it easiest to see as a form of fire, so we'll say some firebenders can use it. Can we do healing magic? Well, axiom 1 says there are only 4 elements, so the body must be composed of them, so it makes sense someone could manipulate them - and the body is mostly water, so we can suggest that waterbending would allow for healing. Can anyone bend more than one element? Nope, rule 3 says only the avatar can do that. Hey wait, if the human body is mostly water, can a waterbender puppet them? …Huh. Yeah. Well shit. Can anyone control metal? Well, metal is a form of earth, but it's a very pure one, so maybe earthbenders have a lot of trouble with it and it's used to make prisons and stuff, but maybe somebody could figure out a trick to it someday.
In Fullmetal Alchemist, there is only one principle:
Equivalent exchange. To gain something, something of equal value must be lost.
Can an alchemist make gold? Sure, if they have an equivalent amount of some other metal. But they're not supposed to, because it devalues local currency. Can an alchemist make a wall get spiky or turn it into a door? Sure, they're just turning an equal amount of one material into a different shape. Can an alchemist fix a broken device? Sure, if they know what parts of it need to be reshaped or transmuted. Can an alchemist create something from nothing? NO. Something of equal value must be transmuted. If it looks like an alchemist is creating something from nothing, they're draing the power/energy/value from something obscure. Can a philosopher's stone break the law of equivalent exchange? NO. It's providing power/energy/value from the human souls it contains, making it LOOK like the user can break the rules. Can an alchemist bring someone back from the dead? NO. What could equal the value of a human soul? Asking the question gets the attention of The Truth, a godlike entity that seems to exist in the balance of the law of Equivalent Exchange, who isn't exactly pleased when people fuck with it and tends to take its equivalent price out of the alchemist's body. Everything begins and ends with the single axiom.
I tried to build the elemental magic system for Aurora the same way, with only a few key principles:
There are six base elements in the world. They used to be six living primordial beings, one composed of each element. They are now each separated into a physical element and an ambient elemental energy that used to form its soul.
Some people have the latent ability to channel one or more elemental energies into the corresponding element(s), giving them command over them.
Each element has a physical property and a "higher property" that represents something about who the elemental primordial was when they were alive, giving mages abilities beyond just hucking rocks and fireballs at each other.
There is Soul Energy, which is omnipresent and forms structures in living things, does not belong to any primordial and can be used to impede elemental magic's effectiveness.
This is a bit of a mouthful for starting principles compared to how streamlined those other two examples were, but it gave me a lot of little details to work with. Can a mage manipulate someone else's body? Not if there's a soul in the way, because rule 4 says that structured soul energy can impede elemental magic, because otherwise it'd be way too easy to kill people and I want there to be cool fight scenes. Can a fire mage throw a super cool fireball at someone? Yes, as long as they have access to fire energy to channel according to rule 2. Can a fire mage channel fire energy into something else, like stone? Not really, because fire energy doesn't belong to the same primordial as physical stone, so they don't mesh according to rule 2. Can I have magic long-distance communication? Yes, because wind involves sound and has the "higher property" of communication, making it usable for sending magical messages according to rule 3. How do I account for weird materials that don't seem to cleanly fit into any of the six base categories? Since according to rule 1 there are six base elements, the things that don't seem to fit those categories must still be accounted for, so the answer we can construct is that most of them are "fused materials" that combine physicality and properties of two or more elements. Can anyone control all six elements? Yes, but let's say it's a rare thing, because those people would be very powerful. Hey, since Life's higher property by rule 3 is "survival and adaptation," is she actually really dead like the others? Huh. Kinda seems like she should be broadly unkillable in a way that matters, so I guess not - it'd be possible for someone to wake her back up. What would that do? Well, according to rule 1, Life is one of the six fundamental building blocks of the world, and according to our "fused materials" corollary, her material is woven into absolutely everything alive. So, waking her up and giving her command over her body again would be…… apocalyptically, catastrophically bad. Oh, but rule 4 says soul energy would help mitigate that a little bit! Enough to stop it from being a problem? No, definitely not, because life magic can be used to brute force mutation because I wanted to worldbuild cool mutant monsters. So that WOULD be bad. Okay, cool. Hey, are there other primordials? There's no reason why there couldn't be, since all these rules cover are the specific arrangement these six guys are in, and they must've come from SOMEWHERE, so yea, sure, there are other primordials. What kinds? Well, [SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS-]
Hard magic systems are great if you like starting from a very simple set of axioms and then just combining them in different ways to see what you can get. This is half the fun of worldbuilding - "what consequences arise from established premises 1 through n" - but it can also be difficult to get the sort of world you want out of a hard magic system, since first principles can extrapolate in unexpected directions. I had to work out the soul energy system because I didn't want it to be ludicrously easy for any mage to just boil someone from the inside out, because that is not the kind of world I wanted to make to play around in, even though it would've been easy to get that from "everyone is made of materials that can be magically manipulated." I worked out higher properties of the primordials because I wanted to have mages that could do weirder, more fun stuff than just slinging fireballs and mudslides at each other. Pure worldbuilding might involve starting from first principles and just seeing where the logic takes you, but I find it's helpful to have at least a few soft aesthetic concepts you want to build towards, and maybe massaging the rules a little until they produce the outcome you're set on seeing.
You can also have more than one magic system in a given world - that's what I did, technically speaking, and it's also what shows like The Owl House have. Owl House really makes it clear when a magic system has specific rules (Luz's runes combining in ways witches aren't sure how to do, but not working outside the Boiling Isles) and when it's a little more fluid and wacky (bard magic, wild witch magic, unique powers like Gus's eye and Hunter's teleportation, Eda's curse), and each individual magic system internally holds together, which is really all that matters for audience immersion.
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kimmiessimmies · 1 month
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📩 Simblr question of the day: Choose as many sims/ocs as you'd like for this question, What's something INCREDIBLY obscure and/or out-of-pocket about your sim/oc? Something that nobody (fellow sims and/or your followers and mutuals) knows 👀 (This could be things about their social skills, physicality and/or birth defects, or it could be something they vaguely remember, a dream they had that actually predicted the future, etc etc... whatever you come up with)
( p.p.s freely share this SQOTD around, anon or not, and use the # SQOTD ~ 💛 )
Thank you, Anon (who I sneakily suspect to be @eljeebee forwarding the SQOTD Anon 😉) and @nocturnalazure for the same ask (on the same day 😊). ❤️
Here's a list of very random facts about my student bunch and two bonus characters. Some things may be known to some already, but I think most can be considered obscure. It is, of course, an essay. Because I'm simply never a woman of few words, especially when it comes to blabbing about my characters. 😊
James wrote his first original song at age 8. It was titled "Parent-Free World", and sometimes he still hums it absentmindedly. He bites his nails when he's nervous and the only place he "self-services" is in the shower because that's the least messy.
Sarah has been considering breast reduction surgery because she has back pain often. She and James developed "twin language" as toddlers and still remember and use some words.
Daniel secretly hoped he would have siblings, but it wasn't on the cards. This made him closer to James and Sarah, though. He's on the verge of failing university. Not because he's not smart enough but because the lectures bore him. His learning style is more visual and kinesthetic, and the University caters more towards auditory learners.
Jill sometimes remembers smidges of a past she can't really place and is convinced these are memories from a previous life. She knows all the songs from High School Musical by heart, but she doesn't tell a soul about this because she's embarrassed.
Seth is extremely intelligent and is a member of Mensa. He doesn't want to be cocky, so he hardly mentions it. He avidly plays D&D online, and his character, a sorcerer, is named Zeno Morningsteam.
Sadie is a wonderful singer and has a great musical ear, but it bothers her that she doesn't know how to play an instrument. She has a tiny birthmark somewhere on her body shaped like a heart (when seen up close). Her parents' marriage is going through stormy weather, but they hide this from their children (for now).
Rachel does yoga every day. She secretly liked it when Sadie spent every night with James because, as much as she loves Sadie, sharing her personal space with someone every night is very demanding for her. She's written seven chapters to a fantasy story, but this is a well-kept secret. If she tells someone about it, they may want to read it! 😱
Finn has a nut allergy. This was discovered when he was three years old and had to be rushed to hospital after sneaking a taste of Nutella. After his hospitalisation, "know what you eat" became a huge topic in the Richardson household, and this is actually what inspired Jill to want to become a chef. Since lots of food contains traces of nuts, Finn is very careful what he eats and always checks the packaging.
***Bonus characters (since they're fresh on everyone's mind)***
Joshua actually hasn't sworn off religion like his sister Martha has. He still has faith but is finding his own way. His crush on Joel is slowly fading, but he's happy about this. He hopes to find love soon but knows this is difficult in a small town. He ordered a free information booklet from The Rainbow Alliance entitled "Boys." which very openly and very detailed (in drawings) explains anything and everything boys who like boys need to know. It left him extremely flustered, but it's also his favourite thing to read now. 🤫
Morgan named Jonah after the love of her life, Jonas, who died in a car crash many years ago. Morgan has a subscription to OMGYES. Aside from writing, she has another creative passion: playing the violin. She's very good at it too. She's not looking for a relationship right now, life is too busy as it is.
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nocturnalazure · 1 month
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📩 Simblr question of the day: Choose as many sims/ocs as you'd like for this question, What's something INCREDIBLY obscure and/or out-of-pocket about your sim/oc? Something that nobody (fellow sims and/or your followers and mutuals) knows 👀 (This could be things about their social skills, physicality and/or birth defects, or it could be something they vaguely remember, a dream they had that actually predicted the future, etc etc... whatever you come up with)
( p.p.s freely share this SQOTD around, anon or not, and use the # SQOTD ~ 💛 )
Oh, thank you Anon! What a lovely question!
I love daydreaming about my OCs and I can come up with a thousand little details about them. I also love integrating those details into my story whenever possible. But the game is sometimes limiting and I can't show everything that I'd like to show, that's why I'm so grateful for OC asks: I get the chance to mention all those things that make up my characters and that would never get mentioned otherwise.
(I'm writing a whole essay again, I'll try to make it short)
So here are a few facts from previous character development questions/oc asks in which I've mentioned a detail that was simply never mentioned or shown in the story, directly or indirectly. :)
Nathaniel: drives too fast and gets speeding tickets. Would have liked to be a piano teacher.
Theo: got the 'heart of stone' lifetime reward. Likes Carmina Burana.
Ralph: was an alcoholic at some point. [NB: that's actually more or less induced in the very first scene in which he appears, which is in a watering hole] Listens to country music. Likes to sniff Pippa's belongings (like a dog!).
Sam: is a fan of Lily Allen. Has a husky voice. Tried to make latte art but failed. Uses "moron" a lot. Is a spendthrift.
Noah: was supposed to become a gigolo in my original storyline for him. Is a repressed Borderline.
Ash: actually strongly autistic-coded. He described love as being (I quote) "a four-leaf clover". Forgets pens everywhere he goes.
Uli: is scared of pigeons.
Ivy: her mother died of cancer when she was a baby. Is scared of old age and her body failing her. Likes sex toys.
Seth: the car he repaired at some point in the story was bought by Yu Wong (Anh's grandmother). His greatest fear was that Erik would suffer from something he's done. Doesn't like people touching him (except his wife).
Tristan: his rings are signet rings (the one on his thumb bears his family crest, the one on his little finger has a rather unidentifiable gemstone coming from his mother). Met in person King Louis XIV of France, Bach and Charlie Chaplin.
Laurie: his favorite drink is Gin & Tonic. Has a Discord account.
Anh: loves mooncakes. Watches anime.
Eloise: doesn't like video games. Loves the holiday season and listening to Tristan playing the piano.
Erik: is a fan of Deadpool and Wolverine. Loves the smell of gasoline and cinnamon.
Romeo: went by Federico in gay bars. Would like to adopt a cat. Is an excellent swimmer.
Jamie: dips his chip back into the salsa after taking a bite. Doesn’t call ahead when he’s late. Chews on his fingernails.
Omar: loves pistachios and Candy Crush.
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glassprism · 4 months
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I may not explain this the best but are there any sort of unofficially "public domain" bootlegs? Like older ones that have been posted to YouTube or have had so many clips posted from them that people simply don't care anymore? Or are people who post clips without explicit permission but they aren't really leaks because they've already been publicly shared? I'm only asking because I'm unfamiliar with the expectations of trading and curious about how those things are viewed
No worries, I think I get what you're asking, and it's something I've discussed in other places, like Discord, but not so much here.
Anyway, I think Phantom is an interesting show in that it's so old, and the people in charge of copyright striking bootlegs are so lax, that I think there's less fuss in general about people uploading clips or even the full show to YouTube compared to newer shows where the creators are more likely to go after bootlegs and their recorders. So yes, it should count as a "leak", but as the saying goes - if a bootleg is uploaded and the filmer is no longer around, does it create any sort of trouble for them?
Another thing too is that many of the original filmers have long since left trading and unlikely to care what happens to their videos, which again, is just because Phantom is an older show (I know of one Phantom filmer who has actually passed away, that's how old some filmers are). It also helps that Phantom has had many international productions that closed years ago, which again, means it's less likely that there's anybody in the company who's going to come after a bootleg being uploaded. Like, do we really think the original Hamburg production, which closed in 2001, is going to go after the filmer of a bootleg from 1997? Probably not, so nobody's really going to be be a bother if you upload a video of it.
(Incidentally, this is also probably why members of the cast and crew will start leaking audios and videos - after enough time has passed, who cares? I'm almost certain the Mexico City proshot of Phantom was from a cast or crew member, as was the monitor video of the original Stockholm production, and I think everyone knows by now that it was Anton Zetterholm himself who decided to toss out the proshot of the Stockholm revival.)
Additionally, other filmers might be around but are not on social media because again, an older show means an older generation of filmers, meaning even if they did care about their stuff getting uploaded, well, it's unlikely they'll find out. Compare this to a musical like Six the Musical where the fans tend to be newer and younger, meaning it's very likely that the filmers are newer and younger, are still in the trading and bootlegging scene, are very active and adept at moving about on social media, and will take serious umbrage if you go uploading their stuff, especially combined with the fact that the company is more likely to come after them for bootlegging.
And yes, with some bootlegs, they have been uploaded so much it feels like you're fighting against the current to even go against it, especially when there are no repercussions. For example, the video of the original Broadway cast of Phantom has been posted so much, and by multiple people, that I don't think anybody cares at this point. That can certainly count as what you might consider "public domain" videos in that so many people have it, have uploaded it, or have seen it, that it's just taken as a free for all, do-what-you-want video.
That said, there are some unofficial rules that people tend to follow. Stuff filmed by people who are still active in the trading scene tends to not get uploaded. Stuff from post 2019 or so is a bit uncommon, again tying into the fact that people who filmed more recent boots are still very much around. If a filmer asks you to take something down, take it down. Name it something obscure (but that does not involve the words "slime tutorial" anywhere).
Anyway, I hope that answers your question!
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i-did-not-mean-to · 3 months
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Dream and Fantasy & Handholding - Thingol x Finwë
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Dear @the-red-butterfly, my friend, my partner in pairing crime...I dedicate this abomination to you!
This is further proof that I have no OCs, they're just knock-off, 2 penny depictions of people I know and love.
I give you...Old, decrepit men! Have fun!
Words: 1 065
Characters: Thingol x Finwë
Warnings: Geriatric grouches, barely veiled OCs, pudding, hint of bittersweet, innuendo to sex in the winter of life...
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The middle-aged, chain-smoking nurse, lovingly called L at work, walked into the “quiet room” briskly, her eyes sweeping mercilessly across the softly bobbing ocean of hairless pates in search of the two most contrary residents of the retirement home.
After lunch, the inhabitants of the renowned facility came here to have a little chat before inevitably nodding off for their daily afternoon nap. Evidently, they could not be left alone—lest they choke on their own tongues or fall out of their ergonomic, cushioned chairs to their demise—so she knew that her favourite co-worker couldn’t be too far.
“Abril?” she called softly, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as soon as her cheery young colleague appeared with a tray full of tiny pudding cups.
“Yes?” the youthful woman chirped in her melodious, soothing voice that had earned her the privilege of handing out gelatinous treats rather than wrestling wayward doters back into their rooms.
“Where are the two pests? Are they in time-out again?” the older nurse asked gruffly.
“Oh, leave them be. They really are so sweet, aren’t they? And they’re such great friends too,” Abril protested in a hushed tone, quick as ever to defend their resident troublemakers.
“They’re more than friends,” the other retorted not without a hint of humour. “I’m pretty sure that what they do beneath the table when playing bridge goes beyond your usual run-of-the-mill cheating, if you know what I mean…”
“You’re filthy,” Abril complained, balancing her tray on her shapely hip to gesticulate expressively, thus leaving no doubt as to her mild disapproval. “They’re just old men! And they’re so lonely!”
Remembering her colleague’s initial inquiry, she frowned, her gorgeous face the very picture of doleful commiseration.
“The holidays are coming up, and Thingol had a bad dream about…”
They nodded in wordless agreement. It was a well-known fact that Thingol had fathered but a single girl-child who had promptly decided to move with her strange husband to some remote spot at the end of the world.
Nobody here had ever laid eyes on the woman, but they’d all seen pictures of Lúthien whose beauty was, as Thingol never tired of repeating, paralleled only by the pulchritude of his wife who had chosen not to follow him into his assisted living arrangements.
As far as L could remember, the old curmudgeon had always shared his room, board games, and pudding with a similarly distraught old man who seemed cursed by the very opposite problem.
Indeed, Finwë had one too many descendants. Having been married twice, he’d fathered one irascible son with his first wife as well as two sons and two daughters with his second who had, in turn, brought forth a whole slew of legitimate grandchildren and great-grandchildren, as well as a few more obscure scions claimed through strange patchwork-family situations.
The chaos these complex interpersonal relationships—ranging from outright, murderous loathing to deepfelt adoration—between the different members of that sprawling family tree bred was indubitably enough to drive any wretched bugger mad.
This was even more severe for poor Finwë because Thingol, his partner in geriatric crime, didn’t exactly get along well with his various kinspeople.
It was a surprisingly tense and fraught situation, a riveting drama playing out against the calming, beige background of an idyllic nursing home.
“Finwë took him to their room. Be a dear and take them their pudding; they love it so!” Abril said, jerking her chin at the tray encouragingly.
“Sure thing,” L sighed. “We wouldn’t want them to go raiding one of the other peaceful old souls. They’re owed pudding, and pudding they shall have!”
Abril’s eyebrows twitched, but she was too polite to ever laugh at a badly executed impression of her beloved favourites openly. “Just take them their treat—they’ve been very good today. No forks were thrown, and Ingwë was so unfazed by them that he didn’t even try to scoot across the room with his chair!”
Resigned to her fate, the cantankerous caretaker took the proffered desserts and trudged out of the room.
Neither one of the two old sourpusses could be heard from outside their chamber, and she took a deep, steadying breath.
As she was alone and nobody was around to witness the slip of her mask of dispassionate professionalism, she leaned her puckered brow against the smooth wood in a silent admission of reluctant sympathy.
Between Thingol’s loneliness and Finwë’s overabundance of ranting and raving offspring, they were a much put-upon pair who would not know a moment of peace before the last deliverance was granted to their unrestful souls.
Steeling herself, L pushed open the door slowly and, at once, had to bite back a sigh.
They sat, hand in hand, in their armchairs by the window, looking inward onto their dreams and fantasies rather than observing the squirrels frolicking across the front lawn.
One was never sure whether they were really asleep, and L slipped into the room cautiously, knowing only too well with what startling abruptness old men could shake themselves awake as if afraid of the long sleep that would not release them ever again.
At this moment, though, their faces—muted echoes of a faded beauty that certainly had been galvanising and terrifying to behold—were serene and relaxed, and their fingers were intertwined in a knot of papery skin and gnarled bone.
Against her better knowledge, L found that there was a touching, delicate sweetness in this ephemeral semblance of tranquillity they had caught like elusive butterflies in their clawed hands.
“Good old boys,” she whispered, prying open the small fridge in the corner and stowing the sweet treats away for later.
Yes, they were troublemakers, and their endless whining and complaining about children they had raised to be just as insufferable as them was exhausting, but L couldn’t deny that she understood Abril a little better now, watching them.
Thingol whimpered softly in his sleep, and—at once—Finwë’s creaking fingers tightened around his cold hand.
L fussed briefly with their blankets before leaving as inaudibly as she’d come.
“They’re all right,” she reassured Abril when her colleague walked briskly towards her, empty tray swinging inquisitively at her side. “They’re resting. Maybe, we could let them have dinner in their room tonight?”
“Ah!” the young woman cackled, her eyes bright with triumph. “They’ve at last won your heart!”
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@fellowshipofthefics here's another cute one!
Have an abomination for your pleasure!
Lots of love and well-wishes!
-> Masterlist
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phoenixkaptain · 1 year
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Have you ever noticed that while we have a bunch of evidence that William explicitly told Elizabeth not to go near the Circus Baby animatronic, and the implication of the lines is that he said this multiple times and was very insistent on it, and the Fredbear plush (no matter who you think is speaking through it) told the Crying Child not to go near the animatronics in general, the lines here also suggest that it has given this advice multiple times, we don’t actually have any evidence that Michael was ever told not to go near any of the animatronics?
In fact, in regard to Michael, the only evidence we do have is Michael being explicitly told to go mess around with animatronics. “It was right where you said it would be.” “I put her back together, just like you asked me to.” These both tell us that 1. Unlike the other children, Michael was not only encouraged to go hang out with animatronics but was also encouraged to go mess around with animatronics and 2. Michael’s tone of speaking could imply that this is the first time he’s been told to go mess around with animatronics.
Now, I’m not saying that William, from the very start, took a baby Michael and just handed him over to Fredbear without worrying about it, but I do think William tried to get Michael invested in some aspect of the business. I believe this because Michael’s the oldest son. And while Utah doesn’t have heir apparent to the family title, it did, back in the seventies and eighties, have a common idea that young men should follow in their fathers’ footsteps. Or, at the very least, the oldest son should bond with his father through a shared knowledge of the father’s job.
This was exceptionally common everywhere, but especially in Utah, where the people have always been (as we will diplomatically call it) traditional.
(But, of course, the Aftons probably are not originally from Utah. That doesn’t actually have much of a sway in form of argument in this particular case, because Mormons have a long history of outcasting people they considered “other.” If you smoked, if you drank to excessively, if you didn’t go to church, if you did go to church but not the “correct” way (I have no fucking clue what the correct way is, I only know that I, personally, did not do it correctly as a four-year-old, I know, baffles the mind), you were other and therefore, nobody would speak to you. And, more importantly to my case, nobody would go to your business.
William, being the one who spoke to more people (if we trust the books) had to at least play at being charmingly British enough that his neighbours wouldn’t think he’s a bad person. In fact, they would probably accept that he doesn’t want to go to church if he just used being from another country to get out of it (but they would probably suggest it everytime he spoke to them anyway) but William would have to fit in in other ways so he didn’t come across as too other. Enter Michael.
His relationship with Michael, if it mimicked the common relationship of father-and-son at the time, would be enough to charm people into believing he’s a family man and going to his diner anyway. Having three children was already going to boost people’s opinions of him, but if, on top of that, his oldest son “helped” with animatronics or paperwork or even if he just occasionally wiped tables, that would add more to the public image of the business being a family operation, just this one included two families.)
Admittedly, we don’t know much about how Michael acts. But, since it’s a similar case to Ethan Winters from the Resident Evil series (1. Both first person. 2. Both keeping the face out of view from the viewer, even going as far as obscuring mirrors or leaving mirrors out entirely. 3. Both of them get taken over by an outside entity (Ennard and Mold, respectively). 4. Both seem to do incredibly stupid things (“I think I’ll go see my wife in this ominous house I was given the address to multiple years after her disappearane and assumed death. I want my dearest darlingest baby girl back so I am going to fight hell monsters with whatever weapons aren’t nailed down and if I have to fight a god, then I guess I have to fight a god. I inexplicably know how to put together a functioning flamethrower.” “Well, Dad told me to go down in his weird undergroudn bunker that he keeps behind the house where my sister who has been missing for some amount of time is apparently hanging out, so I guess I’ll head down there on the nightly.” “I will not make any noise of complaint or annoyance or fear or even pain as I am inconvenienced and hurt and even murdered.” “I inexplicably consider being used as a flesh suit by the possessed wires of multiple animatronics a win because I’m pretty sure my sister was in there somewhere, so great news, Old Man, I’ve succeeded in the task.”) 5. I like comparing media that technically is very different but is similar in key ways and that’s what I’m currently doing. Shh, go with it, my child, go with it) I’m going to assume that Michael’s face does the same thing Ethan’s does. As in, if you wait long enough, even in situations where Ethan should reasonably be terrified, he just looks sort of like he’s wondering if he left the oven on. I like to think that’s how Michael’s face looks. Like: “Oh no, Ballora could catch me at any moment and kill me! …I wonder if that bird I saw last week is having any luck finding worms? It’s been a bit of a dry year.”
Michael certainly seems determined, but he only seems determined if we assume that he’s in more than one game. Like, if we think Michael isn’t the guy running the pizzeria in Pizzeria Simulator, then Michael said “I’m going to come find you” to his father and didn’t do anything? If we assume he isn’t the nightguard of the first game, if we assume he isn’t the second nightguard in the second game, if we assume he is only the protagonist of Sister Location, then Michael is the funniest character of all time. Because he literally said “Father, I am going to come find you” and then went back inside and enjoyed a quiet life? Maybe he did look around but didn’t go to any of the obvious places, the restaurants his father worked and killed at? Maybe he knew exactly where William was and just said “Ah, fock it, I’m going back to my tele-novella, tell me when you’re dead, Father.” It also makes William screaming for Michael a lot funnier because oh my God, William, do you think he’ll just teleport there?
(Sorry, that was a tangent. I saw someone complain about the night guards all being the same person or related to the events of the game in some way and it kind of annoyed me. “Why must they be the same person?” you ask? Because that’s just basic storytelling. The characters have to be related to the plot in some way, or the storytelling is nonexistent. And besides, from a narrative perspective, it makes a more satisfying story if Michael is the night guard of at least one location, because it means that Michael isn’t the stupidest man alive. He’s looking for his father. If I was in Michael Afton’s shoes, looking for my father who I knew was a tad obsessive about robots, I would go to the robot restaurant. It makes sense. (I’m sorry, I went on a tangent within my apology for going on a tangent. I will get back to the actual point now.))
We know that William told Elizabeth not to go near animatronics (or at least not to go near one animatronic). We know that someone told the Crying Child not to go near any animatronics. But we don’t have any evidence that Michael was ever told any of the animatronics were dangerous. In fact, evidence suggests that he was not only told to hang around animatronics, but he’s basically used to them. He finds his brother’s fear of animatronics amusing, which, to me, suggests that he finds the animatronics to be the opposite of scary. It suggests that he’s around them enough (because apparently Crying Child and Michael just hung out at the robot restaurant nearly every day of their lives, for some reason) that he’s either ignored any warnings that they’re dangerous or he was never told they could be dangerous in the first place.
Why does any of this matter?
Because I am sick and tired of people complaining about Michael killing his brother. They say it makes him an asshole big brother, I’ve seen some suggest it makes him just like his father, and I respectfully disagree. Michael is certainly not winning any Brother of the Year awards, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t find his relationship with his brother to be unrealistically cruel.
Michael doesn’t hurt his brother. He only scares him. That’s his entire goal. He’s a dick, yes, but he doesn’t seem to actively pursue harmjng his little brother.
Michael was never told the animatronics were dangerous. Michael was never told to stay away from them, and even if he was, it wasn’t terribly convincing. (“Son, the robot performers are super duper dangerous and you should never ever not once go near any of them. Now, here’s a dollar, go play near the robot performers.”)
Michael, if anything, is trying to get his brother to see that he’s overreacting. He’s trying to prove that they aren’t dangerous. He’s trying to show his brother that the animatronics won’t hurt him. He’s making fun of his brother, yes, but the fact that he gets him so close to the stage and goes so far as to put his head in Fredbear’s mouth tells me that he was basically doing something similar to shoving a worm in someone’s face. He was trying to scare him, yes, but then his brother would, we assume, see that nothing happened and would be shaken, but ultimately admit that Michael was right, the animatronics aren’t dangerous.
This, obviously, isn’t what happens. But I’m pretty sure Michael didn’t purposefully kill his brother and I’m even more sure that he wasn’t even trying to hurt him.
I have three older brothers. And, it was a similar situation in that the four of us were left to watch each other a lot while our parents were at work. And while I know my brothers are not the mold for all brothers, I also know that there’s a reason people talk about the “Cain Instinct.” Boys roughhouse. And, while not actively encouraged in Utah, it’s certainly not discouraged either.
Michael was being a dick, yes. But, the behaviour is similar to a child who doesn’t think that guns are dangerous, whether because they’re not told or because they’re left unsupervised with access to guns. This sort of incident is not without precedent. And while it was certainly stupid, Michael didn’t do anything that a dumb big brother wouldn’t do.
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thewolvesof1998 · 10 months
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green 4 for color prompts ❤️
Hi Lovely! I thought this prompt would work really well for my Mafia AU so I used it as an excuse to get some work done on my WIP. 
Green 4:  "They can't look at you like that."
 For you mi amor, I choose death (18+):
Buck looks up from the documents he was reading over as Eddie slides on the bar stall next to him. His shoulder and knee pressing into him, closer than he usually allow when they were out in public. Buck raises an eyebrow at his husband's behaviour but Eddie’s too busy glaring at something over Buck’s shoulder.  
“Everything okay?” Buck asks 
Eddie’s eyes finally flick to his, they’re vibrating with barely concealed rage, "They can't look at you like that,” he says before looking back to whoever was drawing his ire. 
Buck follows his gaze to a group of women, they’re clearly drunk, swaying and laughing at the other end of the bar. They’re shooting looks towards Buck and Eddie, eyes hungrily dragging down and then giggling to each other. He hadn’t paid much attention when the group had wandered into the 118, other than to notice that they were harmless, just out probably on a girl's night or something and hadn’t realised that they’d wandered into a viper's den.
Buck looks back to Eddie and takes in Eddie’s clenched jaw and balled-up fists. He’s only seen Eddie like this a handful of times before. The first was when nobody knew about them and Buck had been at Acadamy, it had been a busy night at the club and some young thing had made her way past the rope and into the VIP area. She’s taken a seat on Buck’s lap, chest pressing into his and hand dangerously high on his thigh. Eddie’s eyes met his across the room, with the same look on his face that he has now, he’d made a single sharp gesture towards the bathrooms. Buck had made his excuses, leaving a confused girl in his seat to follow Eddie’s retreating form. He was shoved against the door as soon as it swung close behind him. He heard the click of the lock as Eddie’s lips landed on his neck, sucking a mark onto the skin. His pants and underwear had ended up around his ankles as Eddie pounded into him from behind. It had been quick and rough and Eddie had come in Buck, claiming him in the only way he knew how at the time. Buck has spent the rest of the night with Eddie’s come slowly leaking out of him and an ache every time he sat down. It had been so fucking hot. 
Eddie didn’t get jealous much anymore, not since they had exchanged vows but he was the most possessive person Buck knew, other than himself. And it had his stomach flipping in anticipation. 
“How were they looking at me?” Buck turns his head to look back at the group of women, deciding to rile Eddie up a bit more. 
Eddie catches his chin between his fingers and tilts Buck’s head back towards him, in a move that it’s just on this side of painful, “Don’t be naive.”
Buck just scrunches up his eyebrows in an attempt to look confused, “I don’t know what you mean.”
Eddie leans, his face obscured by Buck’s, “You’re such a brat,” he whispers in his ear, biting on the lob before pulling away. 
A shit-eating grin spreads across Buck’s face, “Yeah but I’m your brat.”
Eddie squeezes his chin before letting go, “Get rid of them before I do something stupid, we’re going upstairs.”
Buck nods eagerly, standing up and taking a step towards the group but Eddie’s hand shoots out to stop him, “Not you, get Jose to do it, in fact, close the bar, send everyone home, I don’t want anyone hearing what I’m about to do to you.”
Ten minutes later Eddie had Buck naked on top of the office desk while he was still mostly dressed, shirt on but unbuttoned, his pants just down enough to get his dick out. He’s thrusting into Buck at a punishing pace and he’s thankful that Eddie suggested sending everyone home as he lets out a string of particularly loud moans and swear words as Eddie drives into his prostate over and over again. 
“You’re mine,” Eddie growls into his skin between sucking marks up and down his neck. 
“Yes, yours, only yours, fuck Eds, and you’re mine,” Buck says, placing one hand over Eddie’s matching band tattoo while the other keeps him upright.
Buck’s orgasm sneaks up on him, crashing into him like a freight train, his body lights up in pleasure as come streaks over his and Eddie’s stomachs and chests, some even landing on his chin. Buck collapses back against the desk as Eddie fucks him through it making Buck moan at the oversensitivity but he doesn’t slow down, they both know how much he loves the pain. Buck loses track of time as the oversensitivity slowly turns back into pleasure, his dick hardening again. Eddie leans down and takes one of Buck’s nipples into his mouth, sucks on it before biting down on the hardened nub and Buck moans and pre-cum squirts between them.  
Eddie pulls away, “Are you going to come for me again, Amor?”
“So close, Eds please I need-” Buck moans at a particularly hard thrust has him seeing stars. 
Eddie slows his pace until he’s just grinding slowly against Buck’s prostate, “What do you need?”
Buck pants, “I need you to come in me,” Eddie groans, his hands tightening on Buck’s hips hard enough to leave bruises. 
“Hold on then,” Eddie says and Buck instinctively wraps his legs around his hips, his hands coming up to the edge of the desk as Eddie picks up his brutal pace again, thrusting in harder and faster than before, chasing his own climax. Buck throws his head back, eyes closed against the ecstasy of pleasure swirling around his body as Eddie manages to hit his prostate with every drive of his hips. He feels himself teeter towards the edge but is unable to topple over. 
He sits up, slides one hand into Eddie’s hair and tugs, “Baby please, come for me,” Buck begs in a way that he knows drives Eddie crazy. Eddie shouts as he comes, thrusting in hard one last time before collapsing into him. Buck runs his fingers through his hair as Eddie comes down from his orgasm, softening inside of Buck but not pulling out just yet. He presses a kiss to Buck’s neck before leaning back and pulling out of him but doesn’t step away. Buck doesn’t know what he’s doing until he feels Eddie’s fingers at his rim pushing the come back in as it leaks out. 
He meets Buck’s gaze, “You are mine and I am yours, only I get to look at you like that.” 
...
Thanks for the ask xxx
If you want to know a little bit more about this fic post 1 , post 2 and post 3 I made about it!
30 Color Prompts
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pixelatedollhouse · 1 month
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📩 Simblr question of the day: Choose as many sims/ocs as you'd like for this question, What's something INCREDIBLY obscure and/or out-of-pocket about your sim/oc? Something that nobody (fellow sims and/or your followers and mutuals) knows 👀 (This could be things about their social skills, physicality and/or birth defects, or it could be something they vaguely remember, a dream they had that actually predicted the future, etc etc... whatever you come up with)
( p.s I'm [the SQOTD anon] planning on starting a separate SQOTD blog for these asks/questions, and I'm open for input on this :) ) ( p.p.s freely share this SQOTD around, anon or not, and use the # SQOTD ~ 💛 )
This is a fun one! Think I'll share a little more backstory for Andy and Jeff, as I'm at a point in this save where it's unlikely I'd digging into their backstories, and I hadn't really given a lot of thought to those two back when I started. Not sure if that counts as obscure or out of pocket, but I'll take any excuse to ramble about my sims!
Andy: As the offspring of a PT, Andy theoretically has thousands of siblings, but unlike them she was the only one sent back to her homeworld of Sixam, where she was raised by her alien dad, Captain Collins, instead of her sim one. As a result of this, she chose to move to San Myshuno as a young adult to get a taste of the life she might have lived if she hadn't been sent back.
While she's very open about her status as an alien and will freely tell anyone about life growing up on Sixam, she's secretive of the fact that she only grew up there because she was sent back. I imagine that when Jeff was later abducted and became pregnant himself, she feared he and Alec would also send the baby back in favour of having a biological science baby, and was relieved when they happily kept it (second surprise baby and all!)
Jeff: His parents are very career-focused, so with them working long hours Jeff was put into a lot of extracurricular sports to keep him busy, and his Aunt Kass looked after him during the hours school and sports didn't fill. Jeff found that his success in sports was pretty much the only time his parents took much notice of him, which lead to him becoming very competitive in fear of losing that source of attention.
He was sent to a (in my head, an all boys) private/boarding school in his teen years, where he figured some things out about himself. Not having a close relationship with his parents lead to him confiding in his aunt first. Summers and holidays were always spent with her in the city, which brings us up to his first rotation.
His parents aren't unaccepting, but their desire to put their careers over being a family has led to Jeff breaking off contact with them, and looking up to his aunt as a parental figure instead.
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astrum-aetherium · 11 months
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i just thought abt this omg pls pls do henry angst inspired by illicit affairs I BEG PLS - star
angsty secret relationship trope with henry, here i come. as a swiftie, this only multiplies my enthusiasm. you, star, are a genius. this will definitely be a longer post, because i simply cannot bear not including any exemplary passages. this is perfect.
not being exclusive with him, and yet certainly nurturing a relationship that couldn't be considered platonic in any way. keeping the nature thereof clandestinely hidden — sneaking around, evading any unwanted eyes, and still delighting in one another so passionately, so devotedly, so sensuously.
make sure nobody sees you leave, hood over your head, keep your eyes down; tell your friends you're out for a run, you'll be flushed when you return.
still appreciating him as a friend, as an acquaintance — cherishing your affinity and the fact he keeps letting you back into his life each and every time anew. being hurt by the harsh reality that he doesn't see you as anything more than an occasional warming force and an alleviation of his carnal desires, but nevertheless coming to terms with the fact it's the only way he would ever let you stay in it.
leave the perfume on the shelf that you picked out just for him, so you leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.
nobody knowing about it, and there being nobody you could therefore share it with — other than him. feeling unaccomplished in the happiness and elation you perceive when actually with him, and consecutively confined in the sorrow that follows shortly thereafter. and yet, reverting back to his touch with every opportunity you are offered — it simply being too irresistible not to yield to, perpetually.
take the words for what they are; a dwindling, mercurial high, a drug that only worked the first few hundred times.
the pleasure and exhilaration — no matter how grand — being fleeting, at best, and only leaving behind hurt in their wake. knowing it's not right for your heart to be messed with in this way, but being unable to do very much about it owing to your utter devotion to his charm and effect on you. eventually giving up on fighting it, that urge to cease all contact — realizing, slowly but surely, how futile it would be. being aware of how you will always recuperate, live placidly, and then relapse in the end — find your way even on the most darkness-befallen, obscure and obstacled of paths.
and that's the thing about illicit affairs, and clandestine meetings, and stolen stares — they show their truth one single time but they lie, and they lie, and they lie — a million little times.
settling into the knowledge of your powerlessness over time, reconciling yourself to your doomed, pleasure-undertoned fate. accepting the very few he gives you, never asking for any more. always settling for less; never expectant of anything grandiose — and yet, through it all, willing to offer him your undeniable all. baring not only your body, but your soul to him every time he gets to delight in you, only to watch him disregard that great sacrifice over, and over, and over again. understanding completely that he's aware of your much greater devotion, and yet unwilling to tweak anything about your situation. feeling stranded on a crowded flock of land. never feeling enough despite your utter and wholehearted submission.
and you know damn well, for you i would ruin myself a million little times.
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