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chimerahyperfix · 2 months

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RECIPE OF THE DAY

[OR: This was the most upsetting alternate looper option]

Long post because i have been cooking this in my brain for like, two months, and it's all-consuming. Also I'm not in the Discord yet because Anxiety so my ramblings had to go somewhere, and what better than one big fucking post yknow. I cast spell of fuck you mind blast on the tag/lh /j

TLDR for below: Siffrin words his wish differently, Bonnie gets trapped in a time-loop, and despite saying they're in a timeloop repeatedly nothing works and no one can help them. The normal ISAT absolute horrors ensue.

CONTENT WARNINGS: the normal ISAT tags [death, violence and trauma, suicide, self harm and unreality], Notable Pin on child endangerment and death, poisoning.

most of these get discussed ^ even if shortly

SO. THIS AU.

This is it this is my big one. Ignore me pushing the literal 12 other isat aus I have into a pile pls this is THE big one. I’m looking at the note I’ve stored all this lore in on my notes app,and it’s like. 35 fucking pages?

I've looked at a ton of alternate looper aus [that's part of the hyperfixation babeyyyy I need to consume ALL content forever and ever and ever] and I was like “oohhhh I wanna do that!!” So I literally just listened to music until I caught an idea and yikes. Looking at the AUs playlist now [it’s about 100 songs! Oops!] and I’m like [cartoony image of me laying face first on the floor]

This is a bit scattered because I wrote it over 3 days instead of working on the fic I’m supposed to be writing ooopsieeeee. Ramblings belowvvvvvvvvvv

It begins as simply as the game does. No one knows how to wish properly; so Siffrin wishes, because they know how to. The same folded leaf, repeated three times wish. Close to what is said in canon; different enough for the Universe to read it differently. No longer does Siffrin loop, because the wish isn’t about him, it’s about Bonnie and their sister. Siffrin’s wish is construed as “I wish Bonnie’s wish would come true,” and even if the Universe can’t hold onto Bonnie’s wish as they did it wrong, it CAN hold onto Siffrin’s.

And that’s the base point: EVERY LOOP, Siffrin wishes, because he wishes after he talks to them and that's where they loop back to, and its wish craft goes to Bonnie. A recipe for disaster with how much time they have!

They loop back when Siffrin gets crushed by the rock, because they can’t win while being down a party member. When they touch a tear, or when the sadnesses get the jump on the party and they all go down, or when they use the dagger equivalent [a poisoned snack], or when they get to the King. They Never Beat The King. Think SASASAaP but ISAT.

Bonnie doesn’t fight with craft, but rather craft-infused weapons. The wok and their pan for rock, a pair of kitchen shears for scissors and a cookbook for paper. Snacks for healing and buffs. And they have a cool friend that lives in the favor tree! [they get in fistfights like every five loops. Maybe it would be funny, someone just as willing to spar with them instead of trying to find the right words they can’t find because they’re a kid, if their friend wasn’t ALSO another version of themself, which bonnie clocks pretty late.] They pick up little quirks from their friends, like biting their nails like Belle, and puffing up to look bigger like Isa and stealing Dile's curses and closing an eye to match Frin's in focus. And maybe they start forgetting a little bit, just a little! The same thing over and over will get to you.

So everything essentially boils down to this. Bonnie specifically needs to be strong enough to beat the King, as the rest of the party doesn’t keep experience through loops. For a good chunk of the loops, they take advantage of Siffrin asking them if they need help and drag him into a training lesson that slowly goes from a whole emotional conversation to them quietly listening to Siffrin’s every word. [Siffrin fills this silence with random star facts that pop into their mind. This Is Important It WILL Be On The Test] Eventually the training becomes too tedious, so they start sneaking off to go fight sadnesses— and eventually just punch trees, which busts their knuckles— to get stronger faster! Everything goes downhill from there, with them forgetting to make food to them sneaking out at night to fight more to them getting reckless and uncaring; it snowballs down into “oh this could be considered suicidal confidence”.

Every loop, you say "hey, I'm trapped in a time loop", and EVERY time it is a big emotional thing that exhausts you to the point of going to bed immediately after, and everyone gets antsy and worried, and in the end the anxiety and trouble NEVER ends up mattering because the King still flattens the party every time. [And (shuffling through the sea of my notes for the au), imagine this from their situation for a second; Today, you tell your friends you are trapped in a time loop. They drag you into a long, uncomfortable conversation that makes you cry, and you go to bed with a full stomach and the knowledge they will protect you, and you will protect them. You make sure he doesn't get squashed by a boulder, you make sure they find the key, you make sure they don't die. Tomorrow, you will tell your friends you are trapped in a time loop. They will drag you into a long, uncomfortable conversation that will make you cry, and you will go to bed with a full stomach and the knowledge they've failed to protect you, but they're trying this loop, and you'll still protect them anyway.]

And then the King fight. He grabs them and he kills them and it fucks them up. [it fucks them up, until it too happens again and again, and eventually it simply is just another obstacle you must pass, because the second his stupid hand wraps around you like a ragdoll it’s over, so you just spit in his face to make him press the trigger immediately and not drag it out for forever- imagine the most traumatic event in your entire life, repeated over and over, until it looses all meaning. It’s still traumatic, it’s sewn into your brain forever you will never forget this.]

They tell the party ‘hey, I just got murdered’, and if this au was ISAT, it would go from having a memory that gave everyone a defense buff to a memory that literally stops you from winning, randomly attaching to a party member. You couldn’t get rid of it. They’d take every hit for you, and you’d have to loop back, because you couldn’t win with an unremovable memory like that. and that’s why they stop saying things, because if the people you loved would die to protect you, something you don’t want and have the ability to stop, would you stop them?

And so everything collapses, and from that point [the start of act 4] it collapses fast.

WHICH LEADS US TO ENDLESS MY FAVORITE LITTLE THANG

if this is transparent or not I don’t fucking know and honestly. After 2 hours of fighting ibisPaint X to make it transparent I stopped caring. o7

Slight design notes tangent: the fucking. Wispy things around their limbs just kinda move around them- yknow because black holes pull things in and they are one. Their like,,,, face spike design??? Question mark on what 2 call it? It’s designed to look like their hair lol. The little star-dot things on their knuckles are important smile. Eventually I’ll post a full thing 4 them (I have like 2 pages of random doodles of them it’s craaazy)

Endless (or Ness, later on) is Bonnie’s loop-alike. They’re a little angry hater and I based them on the song Black Hole Sun [therefore they double-dip in the space theming, the little scoundrel! Imagine being both a black hole and a partial eclipse!! Damn why you taking all the space theming for!!] which was the song the whole AU was based on! Woah! Damn you carrying ALL the out of AU lore in you! They’re anger over fear while Bonnie is fear over anger.

They make me SO fucking upset. Like. I’m not being funny anymore. This is THE most upsetting character I’ve ever written. They make me cry. My entire schtik is making horror and this little creature is the most upset I've ever been at a creation of mine.

Endless is a Bonnie who, without exaggerating, literally imploded from having too much wish craft in them— hence the black hole theme. They went through an unreasonable amount of loops [i think I noted down 400??? Probably not that many, but hey, leveling is slow when half the time you rely on a scripted event that has like 3 enemies. Never really pinned anything down, but it’s a CRAZY upsetting amount.] and just couldn’t win,, and they eventually broke, and begged for it to stop— and, well, with so much wish craft in them, even without the proper rituals the Universe just couldn’t ignore ALL this wish craft, overflowing, in one spot. They asked for help and it killed them.

And then they were at the tree! And they’re helping a DIFFERENT Bonnie, who they’re upset at because what. What why is this happening? They asked for it to stop, not for a whole NEW Bonnie to exist and to do it all over again, what is this what, stop stop it. And they have to keep watching Siffrin wish, and doom them to their endless loop, and they have to tell Bonnie no, the party can’t help them like they want the party to do because the party never could help them, and it’s just going to bring them distress and heartache. Bonnie does it anyways, until the very beginning of act 4: it goes downhill from there, until they’re worried This Bonnie will end up like THEM.

They’re not the most self-confident type. They give themself the most un-nicknameable name [Bonnie still finds one that fits— Ness. They reluctantly accept it.] [Endless vc: Ness? Like? From Earthbound???] they can think of because nicknames are a love language and they speak it, and they don't think they deserve it anymore because they've Changed, and trade out the nicknames they have for the party for things they learned from Siffrin in their own many many training loops: The Sun, The Moon, The Star, The Sky, and Bonnie is Supernova, because its cool as hell and Siffrin told them that’s what happens when a star dies, and they died. Open foreshadowing. They take to closing the same eye they made Siffrin the Star loose, because if he doesn’t get to see anymore neither should they— even if that eventually becomes a natural thing, something they do now to focus. They talk about a sister they have— had, because their world is gone and she never got unfrozen, they never learned if she was alive under all that icy craft or not, and they’re not Bonnie anymore. Ness is Bonnie, but Bonnie is not Ness.

And so, when act 5 hits, they’re desperate. They can’t see it happen again, because it erased them as a person and it was terrifying enough why would you want to see it happen again? they prepare to storm the house, bevause theyre strong enough to tear it apart themself, get stopped by the party, and essentially they’ve replaced Bonnie for a loop; which would be okay, if failing didn’t mean there would probably be Two Endlesses and No Bonnie’s. By the end of the au, Bonnie, lvl 99, is like bringing a brick to a stare down. Endless, in comparison, is like bringing a bazooka to a fistfight. They can’t face the King, they can’t, it would probably mess something up [the party has them pinned as being a kid by this point— wether they realise Ness acts a lot like Bonnie or not, who knows] so they panic and wave the party off into the King’s room and fights off the remaining sadnesses to calm down.

And the Party brings Bonnie down, and they fight a fake version of their sister [who they win against, even if barely, because Nille is their sister and damnit, Nille would never hurt them, not after giving up her life for them] and they have a breakdown, and then there's two of them. There's Bonnie and there's Ness. Bonnie confronts them and they get in ANOTHER fistfight, bveause how else would two angry ultra-powerful preteens settle things, and Bonnie convinces them to come along, because their identity has been found out and damnit Nille really won't care, Ness is her sibling too.

[Nille approaches the situation carefully, but Bonnie is right: Nille sees the two of them and immediately decides she has two siblings and she wants to protect them. Both of them went through so, so much, and they saved the country and damnit it would be monstrous to throw Ness out to the wolves because they Changed. Aka I was physically incapable of letting Ness dissapear or have a bad ending they deserve the world too.]

I just I jsutt. Auguhghghghhh. au too big in my brain spill it out on the floor it goes everywhere. When you hyperfix on your own au

#isat #in stars and time #isat au #isat bonnie #<- this is abt them. uh oh.#recipe of the day #anyways the au title is based on a shitty joke I made once #also “”’hey chef what’s for dinner? slop! slime!’#something something the recipe of the day is timeloop soup. yknow. a timeloop au. and soup…….#who let me in the kitchen. someone take me out before I burn the place down #I have. so many thoughts about this au #most of which boil down to me screaming and crying #I know there are multiple other AUs where Bonnie loops but counterpoint #has an alt looper au ever not had the looper wish?#[pushing divine intervention behind me. no that does not exist in this question]#I really like twisting au tropes on their heads :)#‘I don’t want to tread on other ppls ideas’ handshake ‘three month au hyperfix lets fucking go let’s yap’#they can and will coexist heart emoji.#I think about this au a lot. I’m cooking so much art #(yknow. aside from being the worlds slowest artist. oop)#I’ll prob post abt it every now and then (aka when I finish the fucking art)#but for now. laying my au cards down #endless is my favorite little being ever rn they’re such a little hater

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midnightponderingsblog · 3 months

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What we once were. Part 1.

(Set after the Prisoner of Azkaban)

After Buckbeak landed deep in the forbidden forest, Sirius dismounted the magnificent creature, approached his hiding spot, and waited for Remus to appear. To take him home.

Remus told him via owl to wait in their hidden spot, a hidden cave tucked deep inside the forbidden forest. A place they had frequented then they initially began…whatever their relationship had been back then. A relationship full of secret touches, stolen kisses and midnight visits.

He waited anxiously for Remus to come, night turned to day, and then to night again. Just when he began to fear Remus would not come, there it was, the crack in the night air to announce Remus’ arrival through apparition. Their reunion was brief, Remus scanning his face searching for something, he must have found what he was looking for as he confidently stated “come on Pads, let’s take you somewhere safe.”

He tentatively took Sirius’ hand, and with a crack, both men stood outside a small cottage nestled in a rolling set of green hills. The smell of grass and something distinctly earthy rolled over the pair, the wind creating a sharp chill in the evening air and the sound of long blades of grass rustling due to the weather surrounded the men. Remus pulled his cloak tighter around himself and quickly glanced at Sirius, concern evident on his face due to the temperature and him being dressed in tattered prison robes.

Remus opened the door of the cottage and both stepped into a small hallway, immediately Remus flicked his wrist, using his wand to alight the candles in the hallway.

To the right of them, a small front sitting room in brown and red hues, the walls covered in bookcases. A small brown sofa along the far wall, with a maroon armchair to the left of the door. On the wall on the right, a small window with old brown curtains and a pinboard adorned with photographs.

To the left of the hallway a small staircase led upstairs, Remus hung his old cloak over the end of the stair banister.

Remus led Sirius to the end of the corridor, into the small yellow kitchen. White cupboards that needed a fresh lick of paint ran to the left and straight from the kitchen door. Plants littered the windowsill, upon closer inspection Sirius realised they must be used for cooking? Basil, Thyme, Mint and many others where the neat, handwritten labels had worn off through watering and repotting. A pair of pink scissors sat in a small metal pot at the end of the windowsill, he remembered buying them for Remus over a decade ago, he thinks?

“Tea?” Questioned Remus.

With alarm, Sirius turned to face Remus, surprised at the question that had pulled him out of his thoughts. Memories of happier times he had so carefully shoved deep down suddenly were at risk of bubbling to the surface.

“Of course, I haven’t changed that much Moons” Sirius retorted, anything to force a sense of normalcy between the two.

God he had missed his Moony. His beautiful, kind, compassionate and caring Moony.

Remus carefully set two steaming mugs of tea on two mats, on the blue wooden table in the centre of the kitchen. He waved his arm encouraging Sirius to sit next to him. Sirius’ stomach began to churn, he realised then that all he had eaten on the run were small mammals his animagus form had caught. And that was days ago.

“Small sips darling,” Remus murmured, his hand on Sirius’ right arm. Remus turned a deep shade of red as he pulled his arm back in embarrassment.

The warm liquid rolled across his tongue, heating him from the inside out. Sirius took this time surveying his Moony, although 12 years older, he was as beautiful as ever. A constellation of freckles across his face, warm reddish-brown curls across his head and silver scars across his face and neck disappearing below his collar. New lines, new freckles, new scars, new signs of ageing. But the same old Moony, his warm and comforting Moony.

“Pads, you need to eat. I have chicken soup or…”

“Soup sounds amazing Moons, Merlins beard I’d eat that plant on the windowsill if you’d let me!” Sirius moaned.

As the soup bubbled away on the hob, Remus swayed his hips listening to a slow, classical song on the muggle radio and rain that was pattering on the rattling windows. “Eat Pads,” Remus stated as he thrust a bowl of the steaming liquid in front of Sirius, before taking one for himself.

Once the soup had gone, and both men were fed and full Remus looked Sirius in the eye and sniffed. “Pads, you need a wash. The smell is repulsive!” Sirius rolled his eyes aghast, “Rem you have always found me irresistible don’t deny it” before shooting Remus a wink.

Remus took his hand, guided him up the wooden creaking stairs and guided him into the bathroom upstairs opposite the top step. “In” Remus stated before shooting him into the room and closing the door behind him.

Sirius turned on the shower, and stripped off his tattered, grotesque prison uniform. He shot himself a tentative glance in the mirror. Tattoos littering his body, matted black hair tumbling from his head and Merlin’s beard his physique. His arms thinner than ever before, his stomach concave inwards with ribs sticking out of the side. Collar bones pushing forcefully out of his skin and the muscle that once bulked his body out long wasted away.

Sirius stepped under the warm spray and watched years of grime disappear down the plug hole, the water ran black, then brown and finally, clear. The minty smell of his Moony’s body wash surrounded him as he scrubbed until his skin felt raw. Uncapping the pineapple scented shampoo, he massaged the foam into his scalp. Finally, he stepped out of the shower, wrapping himself in a navy fluffy towel revelling in the comfort of the fabric. Remus must have slipped the door ajar as he was washing, a neat set of flannel pyjamas lay just inside the door, under the pile was the large knit jumper Sirius used to wear on the cold winter evenings up in the dorm tower.

The clean, warm fabric clung to his body providing well-needed comfort. It almost made Sirius want to cry, bile filled his mouth and his heart began to race. Sirius wiped his eyes and took a deep breath deciding to search for something to wash his mouth out, he found a new blue toothbrush under the sink and used Remus’ toothpaste, the mint assaulted his tastebuds, revelling in the cleanliness Sirius washed his teeth again before placing the toothbrush next to Remus’ in the pot.

Finally, he pulled on a pair of blue fluffy socks that he must have missed when changing and, with a deep breath, went to open the bathroom door.

#wolfstar #marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #remus loves sirius #remus and sirius

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batsarebetterthanpeople · 4 months

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You made a post on how punks and emo's should customise their own stuff instead of buying expensive shit made by rich people.

Do you have any tips for making cool things or something?

Honestly? Go to the fabric store and just look around until you get an idea. And I'm not talking about the fabric section, I'm talking about the sewing notions section. Let me talk about this look.

So I am a drag queen so I did purchase some things here. The wig for instance, the gloves, and the boots and the earrings were all tip money, BUT I edited the boots and the rest were all thrift store finds. Let me tell you how I made this. We'll start with the boots.

They were just plain black boots I bought for 60$ online. I bought a pack of English 77 cone studs off angryyoungandpoor and used jewelry pliers to put them all the way around the top. Then I put safety pins all the way down the back. Moving up the leg the tights are black nylons I had when I was a kid that I cut and ripped holes in with scissors. Next up is literally just a pair of jeans I already had which I cut off, did a stitch along the bottom so they didn't fray too badly after being cut, and a pack of 50 pyramid studs from the fabric store applied to the front and back pockets

Moving upwards. Thrift store jean jacket, acrylic paint, an old black tee shirt, and studs and spikes from ayp originally silver but painted pink on the front there's a Siouxie and the Banshee's patch a Paramore patch an Evanescence patch a Joan Jett and the Black Hearts patch and an In This Moment patch. All of which are squares cut out of the old tee shirt, painted with white acrylic paint with the band name and logo, and sewn onto the jacket. The bra is from target and I just put the same pack of studs from the fabric store along the top of the bra.

But you don't have to spend as much money as I did, like I said that outfit makes me money so if I invest 60$ in a pair of boots I know if I wear those boots to enough drag shows they will end up paying for themselves. You really can make a lot of stuff out of things you already have. The tights my mom literally bought for me in 4th grade and I put a bunch of holes in them in 7th grade and there I am at 22 years old still wearing them in an establishment I literally can't get into unless I'm 21 plus. The only things I think you actually need to go out and purchase if you don't already have them are like scissors, a needle and thread, and safety pins, all of which you can get at the dollar tree, and all of which i think everyone should own not just punks, although certainly punks should have more safety pins. Basically everything you'll ever need for even more ambitious projects is at the fabric store or the craft store. They sell chain in a big spool for under 10$, they sell a pack of pyramid studs for under 10$, they sell rit dye for about 5 or 6$, they sell paint and paint brushes for cheap, they sell a pack of clasps for under 10$. They're great. If you go to hobby lobby you can just steal it they don't believe in bar codes or anti theft measures and do their inventory manually they literally will not notice. But crust pants are like literally whatever pants you already have with a bunch of patches sewn on. Bottlecap pins are bottle caps you paint and then glue a safety pin on the inside of so you can pin it to something. Cool tights are regular tights you take scissors to. Fish net tops are fishnet stockings (which you can get from dollar tree) with the crotch cut out so you can put it over your head and your fingers through the feet. All of this is cheap or free if you have supplies already which a lot of people do.

Also for some reason people getting into this as adults seem to be like... Intimidated when I tell them this as if it's a high barrier to entry so let me assure you that I started doing it when I was a 12 year old with unmedicated ADHD. When putting holes in things there's no wrong answers. Sewing is easier than you think it's just time consuming if you're doing it by hand. Studs are the easiest thing ever you just stab the sharp bits through fabric and then put them down with pliers. I would say the most complicated bit is painting on patches or pins, but for patches start wit a white pencil and then paint on you'll usually be fine.

Also don't throw shit away if you can help it. The crotch may have busted in a pair of pants but that is now fabric you can use for later

Anyway the point of that post wasn't that punks should never buy anything. One thing I find a bit ridiculous about this discourse is that people act like they're not buying clothes anyway. Obviously the online "goth" fast fashion is cheaply made and overpriced, but hottopic mens pants (do not buy hottopic women's pants they're terrible, the mens actually hold up somewhat tho) cost the same as Kohl's jeans, and if you've worn yours out and need new pants... Well I'm sure you could probably get them cheaper on the target clearance rack but ultimately you're gonna be contributing to somebody's bottom line either way. The point of that post was that punk has always been a poor man's movement and the idea that looking punk costs a lot of money is modern gentrification and entirely inaccurate.

Anyway I think that's all I've got for advice. People online have videos and wiki how's and the like for specific projects but part of punk is coming up with your own ideas. So like just take stock of your wardrobe and see how you can fuck it up.

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catamano · 2 years

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12:21pm - Charlotte

Two out of my three appointments are finished for the day. I’m here later than I intended to be. Erica hasn’t shown up yet, I’m not sure what time to expect her. My last appointment is at 12:30, I was planning to let Paige handle it, but I might as well do it since I’m here.

I’m in my office catching up on financials. I’ve been on my feet all day, it feels good to have a break. It was nice to see Margot this morning, I’m glad I was able to help her pick out a dress for her baby shower. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen her, I didn’t even know she was having another baby.

“Hey boss.” I look up and see Paige standing in my doorway. I told her to come get me when my appointment is here.

“Hey, is Christine here?” I shut my laptop. I got most of my work done. I can finish the rest tomorrow.

“Nope, but Erica is,” she says, “need me to steam anything while I’m back here?” Is it that obvious we’re fighting? Maybe she just wants to give us some privacy.

“You can open that box and get started on it,” I point to a large box next to my desk. I’m not sure what’s in it. This is the first of many shipments to arrive for fall and winter. We’re not going to stock it yet, since this is only the first package, but I want to get everything prepared for when we do.

“Will do,” she nods, grabbing a pair of scissors off my desk.

“Thanks, I’ll be right back.”

I enter the store and see my sister, hands crossed, politely standing by the entrance. I feel nervous all of a sudden. It’s fine, just say hello.

“Hey, how are you?” I ask, smiling. Despite everything, I’m happy to see her. I’m not sure she feels the same about me.

“I’m fine.”

“Nice shirt, I’m jealous.” We picked it out together a few years ago. When I go on buying trips for the store, Erica usually comes with me. The skirt she’s wearing is something she picked out on our last trip.

“Do you not have the same one?”

“I did. The dry cleaners ruined it.” A sad day for me. It was no longer in stock by the time I went to reorder it. That shirt was one of my favorites.

“Oh, unfortunate.” Her voice sounds distant. I don’t think she has any interest in talking to me. I’ll try anyways.

“Yeah, oh well. You should’ve been here earlier, my friend brought her daughter in, she-”

“I’m not here to chat, Charlotte,” she interrupts me, “I need my bag and I need to get back to work.” Shit. I forgot her purse. It’s still on my desk.

“Are you not on your lunch break?” Erica usually gives herself a couple hours for lunch, I’d be surprised if she went back to work this early.

“I am.”

“I thought you didn’t usually go back until 1:30.”

“Can you please just go get my bag?” Why is she acting like this? She’s treating me like we’re strangers. I sigh, I should just ask her. What if someone walks in? I don’t care. I’m asking her.

“Why are you acting like this?”

“I need to get back to work,” she dodges the question. I’m not giving up that easily.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” I state, obviously frustrated. I’m done trying to be polite.

“Charlotte, please.” Don’t ‘Charlotte, please’ me, answer my question.

“No. Why are you treating me like shit?”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with you.” Nothing to do with me, yet she decides to take it out on me.

“Then why are you treating me like it does?” If she let me, I could actually try and help her. She rarely comes to me for advice, it’s always bothered me. We’re both adults, I wish she’d stop treating me like her younger sister.

“I don’t have time to discuss this right now.”

“You’re not the only one dealing with things, you know.”

“I didn’t say that I was.”

“No, but you act like it.” Perfect. That’s the word she’s been using to describe me. She knows how much it bothers me when people say that, and that’s still the word she chose.

“I-”

I cut her off, “You didn’t even bother to ask how I am.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. How are you?”

“Would you even care if I told you?” I ask, regretting it immediately. Too far, Charlotte. I don’t have to make low blows just because she does.

She looks up at me, the first time she’s done so this entire conversation. She swallows, I can tell that hurt her.

“Of course I would,” she says, quietly.

“I’m not your enemy.”

“I know that.”

“Then stop treating me like it.”

She runs a hand through her hair and I notice she’s not wearing her ring. That might not mean anything, she usually doesn’t wear it while she’s working. She never lets her patients know too much about her. I hope it’s just that.

Neither one of us is saying anything. I think I said all I needed to say. Erica’s still staring at me, she seems like she wants to say something, but stays quiet.

I glance at the clock on the wall, 12:21. Christine is going to be here soon, asking me for a million different cocktail dresses. Now would be a good time to go and get Erica’s purse.

“Will you watch the store for a minute while I go grab your purse? Paige is in the back.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.” I wish this wasn’t so awkward.

“No problem,” she replies.

I turn around making my way back to my office. I tried. I don’t know if that conversation helped or made things worse.

#somethingmore #the sims 4 #charlotte #erica #paige #for a second #sm #pov

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prophbuilds · 4 months

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Totally Pro DIY: Spray Booth Mk.2

It’s been a joke with me that my gear is “Totally Pro". My dollar store brushes? Totally Pro. My craft store acrylics? Totally Pro. My makeshift SDCS box filled with cardboard scraps I use to hold my parts? Totally Pro.

All of it is just me doing what I can with what I got.

One area where this doesn’t really work well is my spray booth. It's a cardboard box that I used in the summer months to spray parts outside. It was - at best - a glorified windscreen. It is currently holding a bunch of random stuff as it’s too cold to do anything outside what with it being the middle of Winter where I'm at.

This left me with one option…

I needed to make a new Totally Pro Spray Booth.

The idea was simple: I needed an actual spray booth that I could use indoors with my acrylics. It had to have all the parts of a proper desktop booth without being big or expensive. I have been searching for something to fill this spot in my equipment for Years. My Art Desk has little to no room so most commercial booths are out of the question.

Even if it did, I needed something that could be packed up and put away no problem as I have little space to store things. Again, this knocks out most commercial booths out there.

Then there's the price. Small-ish desktop booths cost over $100 for the cheapest entries. You are getting $100+ worth of equipment for some of these but it's still too pricey for a bit of kit I'll use once in a great while.

On the Maker side of things, I’ve seen Plenty of DIY booths made from storage bins and bathroom vent fans and LED strips for lighting. Same with ones built from plastic foamboard. They're too big for my needs or needlessly expensive at some point in the process - usually the fan as it needs to be able to handle possibly flammable vapor.

Again, my biggest worry is Space – both packed and in-use. Those fans eat up the bulk of it. That particular way of building a booth was scrapped, too.

I needed a better solution.

Enter the Solder Fume Fan.

Although rare that I do electronics, I do love watching folks make stuff. I was going through some repair videos while writing one night and I noticed that the person was using a little boxy desktop fan – a 140mm computer fan in a little blue box with a filter - to pull the smoke away from them as they worked. It was a commercial product, too. Unlike a homemade piece, I could actually buy that.

This gave me an idea.

Find a cheap and super basic solder fume fan with a speed control. I toss that into a box big enough to hold a replacement booth filter. It's small enough to fit on the desk and I could use the fan elsewhere if I needed to.

And thus the Totally Pro Spray Booth Mk.2 was born! = D

I had a small 12 inch by 8 inch by 4 inch box from the last batch of parts I’d bought from Gundam Planet. It's shorter than most spray booth filters but a pair of scissors made the filter fit.

The fan unit I bought has a little wire base so I planned that into the design. It keeps the box from sliding around. The unit has bump out on the front and back with one holding the thin charcoal filter. That’s the side that pulls air and the side I had to cut a hole in the box to fit. A little slice and dice later and I can stick the whole box onto the fan with a good mechanical fit. It acts as another air seal, too. The filter just goes right into the box and the thing is ready to rock.

The easiest part was holding the flaps open so I could use the thing. I just unbent some paperclips and slid them in-between the layers of the cardboard to make everything both stay open and easily removable when it’s time to pack it away.

Now… you might wonder if this was a good idea. Well, the suction from the fan is more than enough at 2/3rds speed to draw the paint spray from my little airbrush. The filters catch any particulate that’s at risk of making my Art Desk a pain to clean (I placed a bit of paper behind it to check if it was doing the job I needed it to). The fan is theoretically Electrostatic Discharge (ESD) Safe so that should make it less of a fire risk.

The whole thing cost me like $50. Only extra thing I didn’t need to do was bring a different box to this project. You could literally buy the stuff and just use the box it shipped in.

Overall, I’m happy with this. It works like I need it to. I can now use my airbrush on stuff and in the comfort of my own home, no less!

Totally Pro equipment, indeed. = )

#Totally Pro #DIY #Desktop Spray Booth #NG

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audioaujom · 9 months

Text

12: Stabbed by Tohko Alt [wrong end 2 ★3]

Corpse Party Hub, < prev, next >

This is an alternate version of the previous write of wrong end 2 ★3 from Chapter 4. Like I said in the last chapter, these two felt very short so I decided to just post them together. Enjoy!

Pairing: Ranboo, Bill, Niki

Word Count: 718

Chapter TWs: Major Character Death, Blood and Injury, Violence, Mind Manipulation (“Darkening”)

Gently sliding open the infirmary doors, Ranboo cautiously stepped through with Bill in tow and the two let out relieved breaths as they saw Niki still standing in the same corner as when they last left. She turned to stare at the pair with wide eyes lacking any recognition of them, her stumbling back into a nearby desk with a shout.

“Ah! Have you… have you come to kill me too?!”

“What? No— no! Of course not!” Ranboo took a couple steps towards her, keeping both of his empty hands in view in an attempt to calm her down. “We just talked, get a hold of yourself!”

“It’s alright, we’re friendly!” Bill tried to help, keeping close to Ranboo as he eyed her erratic movements warily.

“I may not be done with my homework, but I’m not just going to sit back and let you kill me!” Niki was hysterical, knocking stuff on the desk off before clutching desperately at a pair of scissors like a lifeline. Her eyes locked onto Ranboo in front of her, both hands trembling around the weapon.

“H-Hey, wait! Put those down you’re going to—” Also eyeing the scissors, Ranboo tried to keep his voice level but was abruptly cut off by Niki lunging herself forward, scissors first.

“Ranboo, look out!” Bill noticed the moment before Ranboo did, shoving him hard to the side so he toppled over onto the floor and out of Niki’s way.

“Bill, don’t—!” Ranboo coughed—winded—as he landed on the floor, glancing up to see that Niki had missed her original target, scissors buried up to the hilt in the center of Bill’s chest. “Bill!!”

“Oh… Wait, no! I’m so sorry!” Niki grabbed at her head, stumbling back and dislodging the scissors without removing them fully as she fell back into the desk, gasping for breath and sobbing.

Ranboo barely noticed, struggling to get back to his feet as Bill sank to his knees with a groan. “Bill?! Bill! Stay with me, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, right? Yeah, you’re gonna be okay…”

Bill shook his head slowly, steady streams of blood staining the front of his shirt and leaking down his shirt in fast, thick ribbons, both hands going up to pressing at the wound even as he almost seemed to black out from the pain. He coughed a little, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth as he mumbled, “It’s… deep. I… can feel it…”

“I can see that, idiot, but we’re— we’re in the infirmary! We can patch it right up and you’ll be good as new, right?” Nothing on the desk was useful, and the first cabinet Ranboo opened only held a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a bunch of empty glass bottles. He knew he was on a time crunch—How long does it take to bleed out?—so he was recklessly searching every crevice of the room for something useful.

“Am I supposed to be this cold?” Bill asked after a long moment of silence—save for Niki’s panicked crying, Ranboo’s stomach dropping as he frantically opened more cabinets to look for any sort of clean bandages or any other supplies he could use to help his friend.

“No, that’s definitely bad.”

Ranboo only looked away from his fruitless searching when he heard a thump, turning to see that Bill had fallen completely to the floor. The scissors fell out of his chest completely, a concerning amount of blood accompanying the loss as his eyes began to dull.

“No, no no—! Just stay with me!” Ranboo dropped to the floor beside him, not caring about the blood soaking into his jeans as he tried to press his hands over the wound where Bill’s were slacking, blood leaking out faster even as he tried to keep it in.

“No! No!! NO! I’M SORRY!” Niki screamed from behind him, clutching at her head and sobbing louder as Ranboo watched the weak smile disappear from Bill’s face, his body going still.

“Bill?” He asked, despite knowing he wasn’t going to get an answer. His friend’s eyes were closed, thankfully, as he fell back to sit on the floor in the ever increasing puddle of blood.

If only I’d been faster… He thought miserably, staring down at his blood covered hands guiltily. Maybe it would’ve been me.

#corpse party au #corpse party #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #cross posted on ao3 #whump #angst #ranboolive #ranboo #ranboo fanfic #billzo #billzo fanfic #niki nihachu #nihachu

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

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MC is Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar

(Lessons 1-5!)

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 5-6 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

So we obviously know that things would run a little differently with L!MC instead of a normal human MC, but just how differently do things go?

No Mammon, you are not allowed to babysit!

Unlike in canon, Mammon needs to be kept away from MC at the start. Why? He’s known this kid for less than a day, he’s gonna try and use them for scams.

Everyone else in the house? Well, they’re of... observing MC. This is a first, a half human kid just wandering around the house...

MC and Lucifer, despite their amicable meeting, were in this really awkward beginning stage where they didn’t really know what to do with each other.

“So...” MC resisted the urge to twiddle their thumbs as they followed their father through the halls of the House of Lamentation. This was their home for the next year. It was very grand... and also very creepy in some places. “Where’s my room?”

“Right here.” Lucifer stopped suddenly in front of a door in the hallway, nearly causing MC to crash into him. He opened up the door, the room was very very pink. “Asmodeus decorated, you can redecorate as you see fit.”

MC popped their head in and looked around, there were approximately a thousand pillows scattered around the bed. It was the perfect amount! The very pink colour scheme was... okay. Maybe they’d be able to switch some of it out for a nice blue.

“It’s nice! Thank you,” MC was about to say Lucifer, then father, then just shut their mouth. What were they supposed to call him? They had known each other for like... an hour. He seemed like the type to want to be called father, he was too posh to be ‘dad’ or ‘pops’, and calling their father by his first name seemed way too casual as well... Parental Figure..? Guardian? Sir..? Should they call him sir???

The fact that MC ended their sentence like they were going to continue it left the two in a very awkward silence. A+ job at conversation.

“Anyway,” Lucifer finally broke the silence. “If you need time to settle in, we can pick up the tour later.”

“N-no, it’s okay! I didn’t really bring anything so...” MC was in the middle of mentally cursing themselves out, they thought they had successfully avoided falling into the awkward middle schooler stereotype! “We can keep the tour going.”

“Alright then.” Lucifer turned and motioned for MC to follow. Wow... he was very... curt? Was that the right word to use? MC hoped this was as awkward for him as it was for them.

The next stop was the portrait staircase, Lucifer explained each one down to each minute detail, MC listened in rapt attention.

“We received that one from a painter from the sixth layer of the Devildom, it was quite a rare find.”

“How many layers are there?”

“Nine, we’re in the centre most layer. This is the most highly defended part of the Devildom.” Lucifer explained.

“Oh,” MC smiled. “Cool, so it’s like how Dante described it in the Divine Comedy?”

“Mostly, some changes have been made since that time.”

“Ah, okay.” MC nodded, a thought came to them which made them clear their throat to suppress a giggle. “May I ask a question that might bother you?”

Lucifer turned and raised an eyebrow at them. “You may ask one such question.”

“Why did Dante say you were frozen in an ice lake?”

Lucifer looked around, once he was sure that no one was listening, he turned back to MC, his voice was slightly lower when he answered. “I was ice skating with Lord Diavolo, I fell through the ice and into the lake right as Virgil and Dante arrived. Of course, Dante had to embellish or I’d smite him, if only he left out the ice part.”

To MC’s credit, they didn’t laugh, but they weren’t doing a very good job of hiding how hard it was to not burst into laughter. “Oh my... how upsetting...”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I’d tell you not to tell anyone but,” his lips quirked up into a smile. “No one would believe you if you said anything anyway.”

MC gasped, but the gasp ended up releasing the laugh they were holding in.

The half demon noticed some of the other portraits on the wall, each of the brothers had a portrait, there were two demons that MC didn’t recognize. So that was their family... they wondered if their picture might be on that wall one day...

“Who’s he?” MC pointed at the portrait between Mammon’s and Satan’s.

“That’s Leviathan, the third eldest, the Avatar of Envy, and the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy.”

‘Oooo, so he’s a military guy!’ MC thought to themselves. ‘And the third most powerful brother? Wow... he must be crazy scary...’

“What about him?” MC pointed at the seventh and final portrait.

It may have just been MC’s imagination, but they swore they saw Lucifer’s expression sour slightly.

“That’s Belphegor, the youngest and the Avatar of Sloth.” Lucifer explained. “He is currently in the human world as an exchange student.”

“Oh,” MC studied the portraits a bit more. “Cool! I hope he’s having a good time up there.”

“As do I.” Lucifer replied. “Now we should move on to the Underground-”

“LUCIFER!” Asmodeus cried. “MAMMON’S BEING STUPID AGAIN!”

Lucifer sighed and dragged a gloved hand down his face. “We’ll continue this tour later, MC. Feel free to explore some more, try not to break anything.”

“Because the things might be cursed?”

“That and the things are old and expensive.”

MC spends the rest of the day chilling in the house with Asmo, who peppers MC with ALL the questions.

They does their best to answer... but it’s clear Asmo was hoping for something a little more interesting.

“So, do you run the human world?”

“No. No I do not.”

Finally, Mammon escapes whatever punishment Lucifer’s got him caught up in and tried to get MC involved in something that’ll probably make them lose their money.

Mini HC! A demon’s wings, tail, or horns might pop out randomly if they aren’t paying attention! The demon doesn’t even need to be in their true demonic form for this to happen. It happens more often with younger demons like MC!

Mammon stops his little scheme when he notices that MC’s wings have popped out and left a few stray feathers lying about... he can hear the CHA CHING sound already.

Our favourite dummy tried to Mission Impossible his way into MC’s room but MC caught him trying to make off with some loose feathers after they came back with a dustpan to clean them up.

Eventually, it was dinner time, and Levi was still camped out in his room. Mammon got sent to get him out, and he decided to drag MC along with him.

“I don’t think we should bother him-”

“Sh! We gotta get him out of his stupid room or he’s gonna stay in there until the exchange year’s over.” Mammon snapped, stopping in front of Leviathan’s door.

“I still don’t think we should-”

Mammon rudely interrupted poor, aghast MC by slamming his fists against the door. “LEVI! GET UP! DINNER’S READY!”

The only response was someone increasing the volume on whatever show was playing behind the door. Wow, petty. MC suppressed a snort until they realized exactly what they were hearing.

Was that...

“Is that the Sailor Moon theme?” MC turned to Mammon and asked. The moment the question left their lips the pair heard someone practically bolt to the door. It swung open and hit Mammon right in the face.

“MOTHER FUCKER-”

“You!”

Ah, so this was the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy. MC didn’t know that track pants and headphones were a part of the uniform.

“You like anime?!” Levi asked, MC slowly nodded.

“Y-yeah..?”

Quick as lightning, MC was pulled into the room, and Levi slammed the door shut, tragically, the door hit Mammon again.

“LEVI YOU ASS-”

Leviathan didn’t seem too interested in Mammon’s chorus of curse words and angry knocks, he was grabbing some figurines off shelves and showing some to MC.

“Do you know who this is?!”

“That’s White Blood Cell from Cells at Work. What about Mamm-”

“How about this!”

“Violet Evergarden from the show of the same name, now Levia-”

“Whose this?!”

“LEVIATHAN!” MC stomped their foot and pointed at the door. “Mammon said we need to go eat dinner.”

“Don’t interrupt me, human!” Levi hissed, MC rolled their eyes and snorted.

“Nice to meet you, by the way.” MC crossed their arms and let their wings appear and puff up behind them.

“...w-whu-WHAT?!”

“We have to go to-” MC was cut off yet again by Levi passing out. Wow... what a day...

Mammon was still pounding on the door, MC rolled their eyes and opened it.

“He passed out, can you carry him?”

Mammon was decidedly not careful with his dear little brother when he dragged him out of his room and into the dining room. When Levi finally woke up, he got an earful from Lucifer, and tried to kill Mammon.

Apparently money was owed that Mammon wasn’t about to pay.

So yeah, MC and Levi’s alliance did not stem from desperation, it stems from otaku-camaraderie.

MC and Levi planned their credit-card hostage situation over a fun evening of watching anime.

Mammon never knew what hit him...

“Okay Mammon, pay up or your credit card gets cut up.” MC playfully opened and closed the scissors before poising them to cut up the helpless credit card. Mammon let out a shriek and shook his head.

“NONONONONO- don’t do that!” Mammon put his hands up and let out a nervous laugh. “MC... wh-what’s with all the animosity..? We’re buddies, right?”

MC snorted and rolled their eyes. “Buddies don’t try and make money off each other’s feathers.”

“You heard them, Mammon.” Levi snickered. “Pay me back the money you owe me!”

“I don’t have the money right now!”

MC shook their head. “Pity... oh well, bye bye Goldie-”

“The money’s in my sock drawer- just please put the scissors down!”

They slowly lowered the scissors. “What do you think, Levi?”

“Hmmm... you have two minutes.” Levi said, Mammon took off in a sprint out of the kitchen.

“Nice job Agent L!” MC chirped, holding their hand out for a high five, Levi looked positively elated and gleefully hit his hand against MC’s.

“We did it! I’m finally going to have enough money to go to the live show! Couldn’t have done it without your help, Agent Near.”

“Wait- why am I Near?” MC asked. “You get to be L and I have to be Near?”

Levi crossed his arms and huffed. “Would you rather be Mellow?”

“No! I want to be Light! We agreed that I’d be Light!” MC hissed. Levi, literally hissed back.

Rude.

Anyway, Levi got paid, and everyone had a very entertaining breakfast. Well, Mammon didn’t have a very good time, but boo hoo he should have paid Levi back sooner.

I think MC felt legitimately bad for Mammon, all the insults and jabs being aimed at him made MC feel a little guilty...

MC took care to be extra sweet that day, and it made Mammon feel a bit better. You know what made both of them feel amazing?

Screwing with the dipshits that were talking crap about the two of them.

MC didn’t need super-hearing to notice that some of the demons at RAD found it to be peak comedy that Mammon got slapped with babysitting duty.

“...do you want to mess with them?”

“What?”

“Too late, I’m doing it with or without you.”

Mammon was totally in, obviously. A little magic to move some of the lesser demons’ things around and voila! They were all at each other’s throats and Mammon and MC got to enjoy a fun lunchtime show!

The Purgatory Hall crew got to meet MC too, of course!

“And this,” Lucifer gestured to MC. “Is the other human exchange student.”

MC popped up from behind one of the rows of desks and gave the three newcomers a toothy grin. “Nice to meet you!”

Simeon’s calm and serene expression dropped almost immediately as he quickly looked from Lucifer to MC. The latter just gave him an innocent smile and tilted their head.

“Is something the matter?” MC asked, through the corner of their eye they saw Lucifer smirk slightly.

“N...” Simeon snapped back to reality. “No, nothing’s the matter, it’s nice to meet you, MC.”

“You awful demons!” A much younger voice yapped. “You brought a human child down here?! Shame on you!”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I’m overwhelmed with guilt, put me out of my misery.”

“Oh!” MC gasped. “You’re the chihuahua!”

“Wh-what?!”

“What?” MC shook their head and shrugged. “What’s the matter with me being a kid? You look like you’re ten.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m well over-”

“Am I just going to go ignored?” The third and final stranger asked, a cheeky/very suspicious looking grin on his face.

“Right, you.” Lucifer sighed. “This is Solomon, another human exchange student.”

“It’s nice to finally meet the other... human exchange student.” Solomon offered a nod.

“Likewise.” MC pretended not to notice the pause before he said human.

The first bell that meant “haul your ass to next period because if the cleaning staff finds you skipping class you will be maimed” sounded. MC slung their bag over their shoulder and brushed past their fellow students.

“Have a nice rest of your day, everyone!” MC chirped as they and Lucifer headed off to their next class.

“What do you stand to gain by pretending you aren’t my child?” Lucifer asked.

MC snickered. “It’s funny! Didn’t you see their faces?”

Lucifer half smiled and shook his head. “Perhaps.”

—————

“That kid is Lucifer’s.” Solomon said the moment Lucifer and MC were out of earshot.

“Oh thank heavens someone else saw too... I thought I was going crazy...” Simeon sighed in relief.

“Hey! We’ll be late to class if you guys don’t hurry!” Luke called from down the hall.

Solomon chuckled under his breath. “This whole year just got way more interesting...”

A lot of MC’s time got devoted to getting to know their newly found family.

Satan was proving to be very... polite? Almost weirdly so? He’d address MC like he would address a formal acquaintance, not like one would address a family member... or even a roommate.

MC tried the delicate dance of trying to respect his boundaries and trying to get him to like them...

Once the glasses incident happened everything kinda caved. MC had been quite rudely shunned by Satan and they were quite done trying to be his friend! Hmph!

...hmph :(

At least Beel was nice... despite MC being a little intimidated by his size and resting bitch face, MC soon found out that Beel was a massive cinnamon roll.

In return for all the snacks Beel shared with MC, they introduced him to at least five human world cooking shows.

“MC, why is the music so dramatic? They’re just revealing the cooking supplies.”

“It’s a reality TV thing... everything is 10 times more dramatic than it needs to be. The music’s doing its job though, I’m very impressed by that pie dish.”

Overall, MC’s first week at RAD was pretty decent! Until... well... until Friday.

MC could only hide their demonic side for so long...

“That’s them?”

MC slowed their steps and turned to look for the source of the voice.

“Yep.” A second voice confirmed. “Human kid, like I said.”

Ugh... of all the times to have needed to stay late after school... the hallway MC was in was completely empty and they had no clue where anyone they actually knew was-

“Boo.”

MC whirled around to see the two gossiping demons standing right behind them. They instinctively took a few steps back before the taller of the two demons grabbed them by the wrist and yanked them forward.

“Geez, are all humans this tiny?” The taller one asked as he slowly lifted MC off the ground. MC fixed him with the nastiest glare possible, he tried to scowl back, but ended up looking away and laughing to the shorter demon. “Look at them, barely enough for a snack, no wonder Beel hasn’t eaten them yet.”

Turning to the shorter demon, MC gave them a similar glare. “Put me down.”

“Tsk, quiet.” The taller demon snapped, he turned back to the shorter demon. “So if we just nab them now, how much do you think someone’ll take for their soul?”

“I-uh...” the shorter demon couldn’t pry their gaze away from MC’s as they tried to sputter a response. “I don’t think we should...”

“Why not? The exchange program’s still in its trial phase anyway, we kill this human and they’ll just bring in another one.”

The way he was speaking about them made MC’s skin crawl. How dare he? How dare he talk about them like they were just common trash? Who did this... person think he was?

An old familiar feeling bubbled beneath the surface. It had always been there, the intense, sometimes overwhelming desire to let the whole world know that they were better. The feeling coiled its way up MC’s spine and wormed its way into their head where it settled.

“You can’t be spoken to like that.”

Every single time this feeling had flared up, MC had done their best to suppress it. They didn’t know what would happen if they gave in, and frankly, they didn’t want to know.

“Let them know you’re not to be trifled with.”

The burning desire to crush the two demons like ants was almost impossible to ignore. MC felt their hands twitch and sparks snap between their fingertips.

“I’m not going to tell you again,” MC growled. “Put. Me. Down.”

“Human,” the taller demon turned back and cooed, his mocking tone made MC want to rip his throat out. “I said be quiet.”

His grip on MC’s wrist tightened until a sickening crack echoed through the empty hallway.

Bile immediately rose in MC’s throat as they let out an earsplitting scream. Their wrist seared in pain and their heart began to race hammer against their ribcage.

The desire to give in only grew and became harder to control, MC could feel themselves slipping. The feeling only had one simple question to ask, one that MC knew the answer to.

“Are you going to let them get away with that?”

Their face morphed into a cheek splitting grin despite the pain, their head tilted to the left as they stared down the two demons.

“No.”

Horns twisted and burst out of their skull as they dug their rapidly sharpening nails into the demon’s arm. Their teeth grew and sharpened while formerly hidden fangs burst through their upper gums. The agonizing pain of their bones growing, snapping, and shifting in and out of place as their demonic form took hold for the first time numbed as MC revelled in their new power.

Through the reflection in the taller demon’s horrified stare, MC could see their pupils stretch into almost catlike slits. He dropped them onto the floor while he and the shorter demon backed up. MC’s impossibly wide smile only grew as they watched the realization dawn upon the lesser demon as he stitched together what he had just done. The human he had decided to bother wasn’t quite so human after all.

“Oh?” MC cooed as their wings split through their back and unfurled behind them. “Where do you think you two are going? We haven’t even gotten started yet.”

—————

Lucifer was jolted from his conversation by a sharp blast of blue light and the sound of screams from a nearby hallway. He instinctively rolled his eyes.

“Lord Diavolo, pardon me but I need to go deal with a disturbance in the halls.” Lucifer said, Diavolo sighed mournfully on the other end of the call.

“Alright, if you must, but make sure to come over later! There are events that need to be scheduled.”

Lucifer knew full well that Diavolo was making half of the school events up as an excuse for basic social interaction. Oh well, it wasn’t the time to think on his prince’s social woes, he had a problem to solve.

How many times did he have to tell some of those idiotic students to take their petty squabbles outside?

Lucifer made his way over to where the fight was happening, he wasn’t walking with particular urgency, a fight on school property wasn’t too unusual, until a massive shockwave spilled through the hallways and slammed into him.

The Avatar of Pride felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up, that was his magical signature... wasn’t it? No, it was just different enough...

“Dammit.” Lucifer doubled his pace, when he reached the end of the hallway, the sight was just what he feared.

MC stood straight in the middle of the hallway with their back to him, two other demons were lying in crumpled heaps on the ground, one was next to an incredibly dented row of lockers while the other was lying next to an almost completely broken drinking fountain.

Lucifer’s own true form was out in a flash as MC turned to look at him. their eyes glowing a shining blue. Their lips curled into a snarl as they let out an otherworldly growl.

“Go away.”

“MC, calm yourself down.” Lucifer said slowly as he approached them. “Return to your normal form.”

The half demon bowed their head slightly and took a few steps back as he stepped closer. Lucifer almost patted himself on the back for such a show of authority, until MC paused and looked up defiantly. The glow in their eyes doubled as any sense of fear left them completely.

“I said, GO AWAY!”

They lunged at him, which he easily sidestepped, only for MC to quickly turn and latch their claws into his arm.

The child packed a surprising amount of force into their strikes, but he was able to block and redirect almost every single one. If this were any normal fight, Lucifer would have just swatted them away and have been done with it, but this wasn’t any ordinary opponent.

MC was his child, the exchange student, and going through their first transformation. They weren’t exactly rational or directly responsible for any of their actions at that moment.

During a first transformation the demon is almost completely relying on base instincts to function, they’ll go completely ballistic for a while, trying to tear through anything in their way until they run out of energy and pass out. Which is why during a demon’s first transformation usually happened much earlier in their lives under the watchful eyes of parents or guardians.

It was clear to anyone with even casual knowledge of demons that MC had fully given themselves over to their pride and wouldn’t stop trying to prove their superiority until they passed out.

Even though Lucifer was blocking and avoiding most of the blows, MC had managed to get in a few good scratches.

They snapped at Lucifer’s right hand, narrowly missing it and aimed their elbow at his jaw. Almost casually batting the hit away, he hissed in frustration.

“Damn it... MC, control yourself!”

MC snarled and sloppily lunged forward, only for Lucifer to use his wings to bat them to the side. They slid across the floor, their glasses falling off and skidding away from them. MC lay still for a few moments, their chest rising and falling rapidly.

Lucifer stood in place, waiting for any sudden movement. For a few moments, the hallway was quiet, save for the massive gulps of air MC was taking and the occasional groan of pain from one of the demons on the floor. MC slowly sat up and blinked a few times, then looked from side to side.

Something important dawned on Lucifer, he didn’t know just how blind MC was without their glasses.

MC’s rapid breathing began to slow as they continued to squint and search the area around them for their glasses. Lucifer almost audibly sighed in relief as the blue glow in his child’s eyes began to dull.

“MC.” Lucifer allowed his demon form to disappear as he slowly moved towards them, making sure MC could hear him approaching.

The half demon stopped scanning the area for their glasses and looked up at him, they awkwardly covered a yawn with their hand as their wings sleepily fluttered behind them. It would have been much cuter if MC wasn’t spattered with blood.

Lucifer slowly offered his hand, which MC eyed suspiciously. “Come on, let’s go.”

MC blinked a few times, then yawned again and awkwardly accepted his hand. “Mmph... m’tired...”

“That’s good,” Lucifer said quietly. “Everything’s okay.”

MC half nodded and awkwardly stumbled as they tried to find their footing. Lucifer tried to help steady them, but it proved ineffective as MC collapsed into his arms. Sighing, he picked them up and began to walk back to the House of Lamentation.

Just before leaving the school, Lucifer passed by Simeon and Solomon, who looked from MC, who had curled their wings around themselves and was sleeping soundly, to Lucifer, who had a few scratch marks on his face and whose hair was a complete mess.

“Ah, you two, one of you do me a favour.” Lucifer said as he brushed past them. “One of you go to the biology hallway and pick up MC’s glasses.”

Simeon and Solomon nodded and mumbled out an affirmation as Lucifer left the school with MC. Hmph, it seemed MC was right, their confused/shocked faces were quite funny.

MC woke up the next morning with the worst muscle pain they had ever and hopefully would ever feel. On the bright side, their wrist wasn’t broken anymore :D

They had literally built their true form. Their skeleton just stretched and rearranged itself, horns grew out from their cranium, their wings broke through their back and a new set of fangs decided to break through their gums... and then all of that new stuff was gone as MC lay in bed in their normal form like a deflated beach ball.

Not wanting to seem like a wimp, MC dragged themselves to breakfast, and everyone was all: “MC, go back to bed, you can’t do anything when you’re like this.”

“Quiet, I’m fine.”

“MC, if you’re fine, then give Beel a high five, make sure it makes the slap sound.”

“Alright then, Beel, come here.”

Beel didn’t exactly think to take MC’s shorter stature into account when holding up his hand for a high five. He’s tall, okay?

MC then proceeded to grit their teeth and try not to scream as they lifted their arm to weakly hit their hand against Beel’s.

“It made the noise..!”

“No it didn’t, I didn’t hear it.”

“Fatherrrr!”

“Couldn’t hear it, go back upstairs.”

When MC trudged upstairs, Asmo practically squealed and pointed out that MC had called Lucifer father for the first time. It’s a shame no one took a picture of happy/surprised Lucifer.

Side note: after the whole event calmed down, Lucifer was crazy proud that his kid kicked the asses of two grown demons.

Funnily enough, this incident is what kickstarted MC and Luke’s friendship! Luke heard MC got into a fight and brought over get-well cookies! Sure... Beel, Mammon and Levi stole most of the cookies but they were still good!

At school on Monday... hooooooo boy... the two demons that tried to kill MC had lived to tell the tale thanks to MC getting distracted by Lucifer, and now the entire student body knew NOT to fuck with MC.

A few weeks into the exchange year, things had settled into a somewhat normal routine... until one really shitty night in particular.

MC was curled up in bed, their new comforter and sheets were a pain to put in, but they suited MC’s taste much better than the pink that had been there previously. Sighing in contentment, MC felt themselves drifting off to sleep-

Mother fucker who was texting at the ungodly hour of 10:30 pm on a Sunday? ‘Twas the lord’s day and the lord of the house stated that everyone needed to get their asses to bed at a reasonable hour.

MC picked up their phone and put on their glasses. After being blinded by the light of the phone for a brief moment, MC read the text.

Not-Rich Uncle Pennybags 💰🕶: Oi! MC! U want a snack?

Not-Rich Uncle Pennybags💰🕶: I’m in the kitchen! Get down here!

After debating whether or not to throw Mammon to the wolves and rat him out, MC decided that they did in fact want a snack and hopped out of bed to go to the kitchen.

“Hey kiddo!” Mammon said through a mouthful of something in a container, a loose note hung limply from a piece of tape that was stuck on the Tupperware. “Next time, hurry it up, got it? Ya can’t keep me waitin’ like this!”

“Mm...” MC grumbled, rubbing their eyes and looking around the kitchen. “What are you eating?”

“Custard!” Mammon smiled brightly. “Ya gotta try this!”

Oooo, custard! MC grabbed a spoon and practically skipped over to try some. Right before they were about to try a bit of the heavenly deliciousness, MC paused and finally caught a glimpse of what the note said.

‘Property of Beelzebub, you eat it, you die.’

Uh oh-

———————

Okay, the next few bits of this WILL come out in order, I promise! Kinda... not really... eh... but it matters not! I hope you all enjoyed this! I didn’t leave you with a cliffhanger this time considering Lessons 5-6 are already out ^_^

So uh- wanna fight the demons that tried to hurt MC? I’m bringing the pitchforks, who’s driving?

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blves-love · 2 years

Text

𝙆𝙞𝙨𝙨, 𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙨, 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚.

Dear J,

We barely talk.

We don't talk at all actually.

You just nod and say hi. I do that too.

In a friendly way, of course.

It wasn't much, but I am lonely to the point of romanticizing someone I haven't even had a decent conversation with.

It wasn't love at first sight.

I don't believe in shit like that.

But, it felt so much like that.

I saw you.

One day.

Just standing there.

With your friend beside you.

You were greeting everyone you saw.

Including me.

And I greeted you back, as I talked with a friend about if we had homework or not.

You looked beautiful.

I love the way your eyes squint as you said hi.

It told me you were smiling.

Your smile was very evident.

Every time you smiled, your eyes would squint.

I'm in love with your smile, even if we had to wear masks.

I loved your eyes when you smiled.

And I know I would love your eyes even if you weren't smiling.

But I've never your eyes when you're not smiling.

Whenever you looked at me, you smiled.

If I approached you, and you were talking to a friend,

I can see from the side that you weren't smiling.

But when we made eye contact,

you smiled.

Sometimes I feel damned,

because every time I see you,

it's the same damn half-face.

And sometimes I feel special,

because every time I see you,

it's the same damn half face.

I remember passing by you,

you were sitting,

working on your laptop.

You looked up at me,

and you smiled.

I can still picture it.

I heard you speak a lot.

Every time you say hi to me.

But I once had a class with you.

You probably don't remember.

But our two classes were put together.

I heard you talk.

You sound wonderful.

I want to hear you whisper in my ear.

Anything you want to say,

I don't care.

It could be something hateful,

you could ask me to back off,

you could tell me to get you a pair of scissors,

I don't care.

Just whisper in my ear.

Say something to me,

so intimately close.

As if we have something just for us,

our own little secret.

I love your hair,

and the way it covers your eyes lightly.

I loved how fluffy it looked.

I wanted to rake my hands trough your hair.

I wanted to brush the hair out of your face, so I could see your face.

I love your posture.

I remember how it was relaxed,

how your hands were swaying at your sides.

How you kept clapping your fist to the palm of your hand when they meet.

You usually greet everyone you see,

or nod out of respect.

But today,

people passed by you.

People you know,

people who've talked to you 10x more than me.

But you passed them with a glance.

And while I was right behind them,

you greeted me.

You nodded.

And that was nothing for everyone.

But everything for me.

It was weird,

but I am lonely to the point where I romanticize a small smile.

It was creepy, yes.

It's what lonely creeps do everywhere.

But I'd never make a move.

That's why I publish this letter anonymously to the internet.

Where hopefully you'll never find.

But, somewhere deep inside.

I want to send this to you.

In a letter with burnt edges and tear smudges.

Calligraphed messily with a glass pen.

I want you to get it anonymously.

And fall in love with my words,

the way I write.

Then, maybe, one day, you'll have to read an essay I made,

and you'll see the similarities.

Then maybe, you'll suspect it was me.

But you were uncertain.

So you notice me more.

And we'll get closer.

And you'll start to fall for me.

Fall for my humor,

fall for my intelligence,

fall for my curiosity,

fall for my weird thoughts,

fall for the way I sit,

fall for the way I smile,

fall for the way I look at you,

fall for the way I love.

Then,

on one lucky day,

I’ll find the letter you kept away in your cupboard.

And you’ll try to take it away from me,

embarrassed someone wrote you an anonymous love letter,

not wanting me to know that you kept it because it made you smile.

And I'll tell you I wrote it,

and you’ll be surprised,

in the best way,

and we'll finally kiss,

confess,

love.

Sincerely,

me.

12 Mei 2022, Thursday

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jessicajonesrp · 4 years

Text

Public warning

Patricia Walker does not do well with lack of control. It’s a tendency passed down from life with Dorothy Walker, easily the most controlling non super-powered person she had ever met. For the first eighteen years of her life, most of Trish’s actions, from her clothes to her work to her every public word and expression, had been chosen for her by Dorothy, and the only real choice she had for herself was whether to give in and make life easier for herself or rebel and suffer Dorothy’s wrath.

Her desire for the control she had lacked had left her with severe insecurity, eating disorders, and self medication through drugs, all issues she struggled with for a good ten years before channeling her need for control into efforts at bettering herself and helping others. She had finally reached a place where life was stable, heading in a direction Trish could be content with, if not fully satisfied.

And then Kilgrave happened. First to Jessica only, without Trish having any idea why her best friend had suddenly vanished without contact for eight months, and then with the shattered mess it left her once Trish did know and struggled to support her. Then to Trish herself, when she, against Jessica’s orders and even pleas, involved herself in trying to draw him out and capture him.

Trish knew she had not suffered anywhere near the level that her sister had from Kilgrave, but it was still enough to make her feel sick and cold when she remembered. She still occasionally had nightmares of his cold, snapping voice, telling her to shoot herself in the head, telling her to kill people she had never met before out on the docks. She still shivered in disgust when she remembered the feeling of his hands on her face, his lips on her skin, the terrible ambivalence of wanting to kiss him, enjoying it, even as every part of her true self screamed out in horror. And she could never forget Simpson’s hands around her throat, choking her nearly to the point of death at Kilgrave’s command.

She had hated and feared the man from the first moment Jessica managed to stutter out what he had done to her. No, she had hated him before then, when she first saw the unnaturally shocked, broken state of her sister when she finally broke free from his initial control. Anyone who could hurt Jessica so deeply and so permanently earned her hatred without needing to know their identity.

And now he was back. Again. As much as Trish feared for herself, for being used or even killed in his obsessive pursuit of Jessica, she feared even more that Kilgrave would damage Jessica even more deeply, that he would continue to pile up dead and damaged bodies around himself and place the blame at her feet. Jessica didn’t need this, not again. And if Trish could do anything to help or stop it, it would help her feel just a little bit more of a sense of the control she knew she didn’t really have.

She made her way to her recording studio after first sending some of Heroes for Hires guards ahead of her to thoroughly check out the studio for any signs of danger from Kilgrave or any of his like, giving them a code phrase to use to insure that they would be able to alert her if he did show up and control them or others. Trish had already called ahead to insure that all people were thoroughly searched for any possible weapons and passed at least twice through the metal detectors already installed before being allowed entrance. After receiving the all clear, she went, Jessica insisting on accompanying her, via one of Danny’s cars to the studio, passing through the checks put in place and heading straight to her recording studio and instructing the techs to set up for a live broadcast. She was aware of Jessica skulking behind her, hands shoved in her pockets, as Trish rapidly read from the speech she had just finished churning out.

“Good afternoon New York City and beyond, this is Trish Walker with an urgent report coming to you from Trish Talk, by way of myself and all our associates at Heroes for Hire. Soon, a follow up broadcast will be coming your way via Channel 5 News with more information, but please, listen very carefully to this announcement for your safety and those of your loved ones.”

Trish paused, swallowing, and snuck a glance back at Jessica’s impassive expression before facing the mic again and continuing. “Most of you may remember the terrible events of last summer, when the man whom called himself Kilgrave provided mass terror and destruction in our city and in far too many of our own lives and homes. It is to my great sorrow that I inform you that Kilgrave is not, as was believed, deceased. Kilgrave has made personal contact with myself and with-“

Jessica made violent throat slashing motions behind her that Trish saw out the corner of her eye, and Trish edited her intended words smoothly.

“With myself and my colleagues, and we have evidence to support that this is no hoax. Please be aware of yourself and those you love at all times. Know their whereabouts, establish coded phrases and patterns of behavior in order to test out the level of control the people in your life may have at any given moment. Kilgrave is a white male with a British accent, last known to have short medium brown hair and brown eyes. He tends to dress in a professional manner, especially in dark purple suits and ties, and he is considered a threat of the level of nuclear war. Do not approach him should you see him; instead do all you can to get away and call in our hotline at Trish Talk or Heroes for Hire to report a possible sighting. If you suspect that someone you know may be controlled, treat them in the same manner, do all you can to subdue them without causing permanent harm to them if necessary. Kilgrave’s powers last up to 12 hours, so do not under any circumstances try to reason with anyone you suspect to be controlled. If at all possible, wear ear plugs or head phones or listen to loud music when necessary to go out in public. Kilgrave cannot gain control of those whom are not within his direct path and whom cannot hear his commands. He-“

“Stop,” a voice suddenly came over the ear, and both Trish and Jessica jumped, recognizing the voice after a moment as not Kilgrave’s, but female and American. Trish quickly identified the voice a second later as belonging to one of her tech support assistants, Chloe Ash. “The information is over.”

“What the fuck?” Jessica hissed, shooting Chloe a vicious glower and striding towards her quickly. “Will you shut up, even I know to shut the hell up on a live recording, over something this damn important!”

Trish tried to recover, giving a somewhat forced chuckle and speaking over them. “I apologize, there are some technical difficulties, but if you’ll bear with me I will make sure you all get the information you need. As I was saying, Kilgrave cannot-"

“This information is too much, this recording is over,” Chloe repeated, more loudly and forcefully, standing up and taking the headphones off of her ears. She fairly shouted out her next few words, speaking loudly enough that Trish’s words were drowned out.

“Loyal listeners, you will now hear the sound of a suicide by Chloe Ash, Patsy Walker’s employee. More are to follow in the names and as a direct result of the avoidance and rejection of Jessica Jones. Goodbye, loyal listeners, and know that Kilgrave is a patient man.”

She head butted Jessica in the face when Jessica grabbed for her arm, ducking under her and weaving to the other side of Trish. As Trish leaped up, expecting Chloe to grab or try to harm her, the young woman instead ran to a small cabinet against the walls containing little more than sound equipment and various office supplies. Throwing it open, she grabbed a pair of scissors from its contents, opened the blades wide, and closed them around the front of her throat.

She made no sound, showed no pain as she dragged the scissor blades more deeply into her skin, sawing back and forth to make as rough and deep a wound as possible. The live recording now picked up the sound of Trish’s horrified scream, her outcries of “Oh god, no, no!” as blood spattered in a wide arc just short of reaching her, and the noisy scuttle of multiple feet moving towards Chloe as others tried to reach her before it was too late.

Jessica got to her first and wrenched the scissors out of her hand, breaking them in half and throwing them down so Chloe could not get them and use them any further. Tearing off her oversized sweatshirt, she pressed it against the woman’s throat, grimly noting how the blood immediately stained through its thick material and onto her fingers, how it had sprayed hot and thick over her arms and chest before she could touch her at all. The woman didn’t try to speak, likely couldn’t have, but she was losing all color in her face, her eyes already growing glassy and lifeless, and as Trish sputtered and tried not to vomit or pass out in the background, Jessica held onto the almost useless bloodied sweater, as though she could somehow keep the woman alive just by holding on tight enough.

It didn’t matter. Within another minute the woman was clearly dead, limp and unmoving under Jessica’s hands, and she could hear the shrill noise of sirens in the background. Jessica let her drop to the ground, stumbling back and nearly yelling out loud when she bumped into Trish and felt her hands latch onto her arm.

“We have to go, now,” she mumbled, giving her sister’s arm a rough tug.” Before someone else of his comes through in the aftermath.”

Even as she lead Trish out of the room and building, she could still hear the dying woman’s words echo in her mind. More are to follow, as a direct result of the avoidance and rejection of Jessica Jones…

#jessica jones roleplay #Jessica Jones #Luke Cage #luke cage roleplay #trish walker roleplay #trish walker

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avengerscompound · 4 years

Text

The Surrogate - Chapter 12

The Surrogate: A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count: 1911

Rating: E

Warnings: Pregnancy, smut (MFF Bisexual threesome. Oral sex, tribbing, vaginal sex, pregnancy sex)

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people. When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want. Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Chapter 12

Following Clint back down to his apartment was somehow the most terrifying and most exciting thing you’d ever done. You had a whole storm of conflicting emotions running through you that were all amplified and mixed thanks to the pregnancy. Clint kept his hand on your shoulder and it felt both comforting and a little like you were being led down to your imminent destruction.

You had finally admitted to Clint that you were falling in love with him and Natasha and rather than telling you that they had no room for anyone else outside of casual hookups, he’d told you they’d felt the same way. So as you walked down you weren’t worried about her rejecting you. Thanks to Clint, you knew that Natasha was going to take the news of your feelings well. What you were worried about was that with the baby on the way it was too much pressure. They were already an established couple. An established couple who were about to be parents. Adding a new girlfriend to that, even if it was their best friend and the person carrying the baby for them - it was a lot. There was a lot that could go wrong and in that ‘big horrible explosion with body parts flying everywhere’ way.

When you went into the apartment, Natasha glanced up from the couch with a look on her face that seemed to cover pity, concern, and expectancy. You weren’t even sure how she could manage to convey so many things in just one look, especially when she was usually so good at hiding those feelings. Then again, maybe you were just projecting.

“Hey,” she said. “He talked you down?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, taking a seat and grabbing a piece of pizza. “He did.”

“You gonna tell me what was wrong?” She asked.

You looked at Clint for help and he laughed and flopped down on the couch beside Natasha and slung his arm around her shoulder. “Oh, Nat,” he said playfully. “You’re gonna love this. Our buddy over there has been having some feelings. You know… of the romantic kind?”

Natasha's mouth dropped open and a huge smile crossed her features. “With us?”

“Yes with you,” you said. “Who do you think?”

Natasha pounced on you and her lips crashed into yours. You froze startled for a moment, your eyes wide and your arms held out awkwardly. When your brain caught up to what was happening, you wrapped your arms around her and melted into her. She kissed you deeply and lovingly but with a little bit of frantic excitement that you couldn’t quite keep up with. You broke the kiss with a gasp and started laughing. “Nat, you're crushing the baby.”

She pulled back laughing and leaned down and kissed your stomach. “Sorry, little one,” she whispered. “Mommy got a little excited.”

“So is that a yes then, Nat?” Clint asked. “You want a girlfriend officially?”

“Yes,” Natasha said. “Of course I do.”

You smiled and leaned in, nosing her neck. You wanted to just sit here and enjoy the fact that after all this time you were in an actual relationship with Clint and Natasha. It wasn’t as easy as that though. There was a child involved. Anything the three of you did would affect that baby too.

“How are we going to do this?” You asked. “I mean… should I move back out? Do we date? What about the baby?”

Natasha sat back and huffed, blowing a stray lock of hair off her face. “Well,” she said. “Clint and I didn’t date.”

“No?” You asked.

“Nah,” Clint said, shaking his head. “We just hung out all the time and then hooked up a lot and then we realized that we were each other’s favorite people.”

“Kinda like we have been,” you said.

“Exactly like we have been,” Clint said. “So I don’t know that anything needs to change except, we can get a really big bed and squish together in it.”

“And -?” you pointed at your stomach.

“Okay, that’s a big ‘and’,” Clint said.

“But the first question is, do you want to be a parent? Or even to do this,” Natasha said, gesturing between the three of you. “If we are parents?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I think it was something I thought would happen but I’ve barely been seeing anyone. And since the surrogacy, no one, so it’s not been a pressing issue. I just… if we’re living together and it doesn’t work out, I’ll be attached to them and vice versa, and then if we don’t work out, then what?”

“Oh, dorogáya,” Natasha soothed. “All families run the risk of being broken up. I was adopted by a group that trained little girls to be assassins. Clint’s parents were killed in a car accident and he was raised in the circus. People get divorced. I think for now we need to just worry about us. When they join us, we can decide what role you’re comfortable with and work it out then. But chances are, if we are together you will be a mom.”

You nodded and chewed the inside of your cheek. “What if the breakup is messy and I am a mom?” You asked. “I already signed away all my rights to this baby.”

“Babe,” Clint said. “I promise we can sign anything you want after the baby comes if you’re worried we’d ever hurt you like that.”

“I don’t think you would,” you said, frowning. “But I know you never really thought that I’d try and keep them when I offered to be a surrogate and I still signed the paperwork.”

Natasha rubbed your thigh. “I love how worried you are about any of us getting hurt,” she said. “Clint and I, we could be friends with people. But when it came to romance, we just blew it up every time. With each other though? It’s just us. We didn’t try to force it. We knew our limitations. Yeah, we have our moments but we’re friends first. That’s how I feel about you too.”

You smiled and cuddled up next to her. “Okay. I guess we just… do it.”

“That’s what she said,” Clint teased.

“Then,” you continued, trying not to laugh. “When things look serious we work out the logistics of one kid with three parental figures.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Natasha said.

“Now,” Clint said, reaching around Natasha to play with your hair. “You walked off in a huff before because you were very, very horny. I’ve got good news for you. You now have both a boyfriend and a girlfriend who are here and willing to take on every little kink of yours.”

You leaned into his hand and closed your eyes. Just like that, your whole body felt like a live wire again. You hummed and bit your bottom lip. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

“So polite,” Natasha teased. “Why don’t you go get comfortable in bed and we’ll take good care of you.”

You got up and they quickly followed after you. Inside your mind, a veritable porn collection was playing with all the different possible ways Clint and Natasha could fuck you in your present state. You crawled up on the bed and they flanked you, Clint quickly pulling your shirt up over your head, while Natasha pulled down your maternity sweats. He started to kiss you hungrily as Natasha removed your panties and ducked her head down between your legs. As her tongue ran up your folds your whole body shivered and you moaned softly into Clint’s lips.

He broke the kiss and as you leaned back and arched your back, he kissed down your neck to your breasts. A low moan escaped your lips as Natasha lapped greedily at your cunt and Clint sucked on one of your breasts. With the pregnancy and the buzz of excitement from the start of something new, you were over sensitive and soaking wet. Natasha collected up the arousal as it dripped from you. It soaked your folds and ran down the inside of your thighs, smearing on your skin.

Clint sucked a patch of skin just at the base of your breast hard enough to bruise. You gasped and bucked your hips. Even as pleasure surged through you, making your body buzz and your muscles clench, your back began to ache due to the pressure on it.

“I need to move,” you half-moaned/half-panted.

They both pulled back, giving you room to change position. You rolled onto your side. Clint began to rub your cunt as Natasha quickly shed her clothes. When she was naked she lifted your legged and scissored her legs around you and began to grind her pussy against yours. The rub of her soaking cunt against yours maintained that slow buzz through you, keeping you right on edge without pushing you over. A sheen of sweat clung to your skin and you whimpered needily, squeezing and massaging your breasts in an attempt to add more to the sensation.

Clint watched you both as he slowly removed your clothes. When he was fully naked and you weren’t sure you could take any more of the frantic but drawn-out teasing, Natasha pulled away from you and Clint gave your ass swat. “Think you can do hands and knees?” He asked.

You nodded, still breathing heavily, and got onto your hands and knees. Clint moved up behind you and began to tease the head of his cock up and down your folds. Natasha moved in front of you, laying back with her legs spread, the thatch of red hair on her pussy glistening.

You dropped your head and sucked hungrily on her cunt and as the tart and musky flavor filled your mouth, Clint thrust hard into you from behind.

The sound of your moans was muffled by Natasha’s cunt, but even as Clint pounded into you as behind, you stayed focused on Natasha. You thrust two fingers inside her and curled them, stroking her internal walls and drawing out more of her wet. The pads of your fingers touched down on the spongy spot inside her and she cried out loudly and bucked up against your face. Behind you, Clint wrapped an arm around your waist and began to rub your clit as he fucked you. You moaned louder and doubled down on Natasha, digging your fingers into her g-spot and dragging them over it. As Natasha got louder and louder so did you and Clint, until the room was filled with the sounds of your moans and cries.

Natasha came first, her whole body curving of the mattress as she cried out and gushed on your face. You relaxed, collapsing down on Natasha’s stomach as the last of her orgasm ran through her. She ran her fingers through your hair and you gave yourself to Clint.

“Fuck! Yes!” You cried as your orgasm hit, and all your muscles clenched at once. Clint’s hips began to stutter but he kept fucking you through your orgasm as he held you in place. With a grunt, he held you in place and came inside you.

When he slipped out of you, you rolled onto your side and sighed happily, finally all your cravings having been sated. “That’s what I needed.”

Clint and Natasha spooned you from each side and kissed your neck. “Trust me, there’s plenty more where that came from,” Clint teased.

// NEXT

#clint barton #natasha romanoff #clint barton x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x natasha romanoff #clint barton x natasha romanoff x reader #clintasha #clintasha x reader #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #black widow #black widow fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #pregnancy #the surrogate

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thebestofoneshots · 4 years

Text

Princess

Pairing: Dean x reader

Prompt: In which you and Dean can’t help but want to be around each other and find little excuses to do so. Also reaserchung for a case and watching TV together.

Warnings: Located on early season 12, there are some mild spoilers to S2 of The Walking Dead but nothing serious.

A/N: This is fluff, just a bunch of fluff because I needed some Dean fluff real bad

You laid on your stomach with your feet crossed, knees glued to the headboard of Dean’s bed as you read the digital book you’d found a few days back. Dean sat beside you resting his back on the headboard reading as well, he held a book in his hands. You were both listening to some soft rock as you continued your research to trap Lucifer on the cage.

Hours passed, Sammy had gone to check up on a possible case and promised to call if it was something of your kind of thing, meanwhile you, and Dean decided to go to his room since the library chairs were hurting your backs from so much reading.

You took a deep breath and sighed before moving on to the next page of archangel lore, and you thought the economy readings back at uni had been boring.

“Hey!” You heard him exclaim excited from behind. “I think I’ve got something! Check this out.” He handed you the book and leaned towards you as you read.

You closed the computer and grabbed the book from his hands, reading from the point he told you to start.

As you read about the tools God had used to lock Lucifer on the cage you felt a small finger pressing near your shoulder. It made you raise an eyebrow and turn your eyes towards him but continued reading when you noted no further movement, a few minutes later you felt it again. You ignored it just the same. And it just kept happening. He’d press his finger on different sides of your back, and rather than being annoying to you, it was pleasant, almost like a massage. You almost dragged your eyes in the words longer just to avoid finishing fast and lose the gentleness of his touch. You were only friends so, these kinds of tokens of affection weren’t all that common.

After a few pages and a few minutes of heaven, he stopped and leaned even closer “So?”

“So what?” You asked confused, you were still a little numb and distracted, his touch had an effect you were not expecting, even if you liked it.

“You think it’s going to work?”

You were about to ask ‘what was going to work?’ until it dawned on you that he was talking about the reading you’d barely payed attention to “I mean, I think it could work, it’s not such a long shot.” You were as ambiguous as possible with your answer.

“Right?, I’ll send the pictures of the book to Cas, he’ll know something about it.”

You nodded and passed him the book, you tried to open the computer again but your will power was out of sight “I cannot, for the life of me, continue reading this! It’s the most boring piece of lore I’ve found in my life! It’s like the writer thought of the most boring way to write something and decided to double the boringness at the end.”

Dean chuckled “then stop for a bit, let’s see what Cas has to say about what we found, take a break.”

“Awesome! If anyone asks, you said I could stop,” You chimed grabbing the computer on your hands, you did NOT want to stand up, even if it was minimal, you enjoyed the company and without the reading, you had no excuse to stay in the same place as Dean.

“Do you want to watch something?” He asked then.

You were about to jump like a little girl in excitement but managed to keep your composure “sounds nice, why not?”

You opened Netflix on your computer, trying to find something to watch “Hey, walking dead seems fun,” he motioned towards the screen.

“Hmmm, I don’t really like zombies.”

“Wait, what? I’ve seen you hunt dozens!”

“Yeah, we’ve hunt zombies, but our zombies are not like those zombies, you don’t get bitten and turn into one because of a scary invisible virus that kills you and turns you into a blob of walking, hungry, brainless meat. And there are also no zombie apocalypses where all the people you love die.”

“Wait a minute! Are you scared of zombies?” He teased.

“That’s ridiculous! I hunt zombies,” you defended yourself.

“You ARE scared,” he continued “I’d never thought they say would come where I would find something that scares (Y/F/N).”

“Shut up! Winchester,” you grunted "I’m not scared, and I can prove it!" You sneered as you clicked on the little icon to play the first episode of the show you’d been dreading to watch for years.

He had a little smirk on his face as you did it, he knew you were scared, but he also didn’t mind being the only one there to comfort you, in case the zombies were too much.

As the episode started you had your left hand, the one on the other side of him, clenching the bedsheets expecting a jump scare on every scene. By the end of the episode, you’d gotten around to it, since you’d seen jump scares weren’t all that common on the show you managed to relax a bit.

"You’re not as tense anymore," he acknowledged.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about, Winchester, I was never tense," you responded playing dumb.

He rolled his eyes but you both continued watching the show. By episode three of your little binge-watch the computer showed the classic 5% battery left which meant you had like a minute before it turned off.

"Shit," you mumbled, you still didn’t want to stand up, so you looked around the room to see if by any chance you’d brought the charger, which you had, only it was close to the plug, on the far side of his little concrete shelf. You gave him a look. He denied with his head. You breathed again and positioned your hands on the classic rock, paper scissors start.

"Seriously? princess?" He asked, you knew, he meant it in an annoying way, but even then your stomach fluttered.

"Do I look like I’m joking?"

He let a breath out and positions his hands too. rock, paper, scissors, you both the said in your heads, both choose rock. You stared at each other for a second before trying again, rock, paper, scissors, now you were both papers. You got the same answer two more times. "This is the one!" He said. You nodded, rock, paper, scissors and he crushed your scissors with his rock.

"Son of a bitch!" You mumbled.

"Language, princess!"

You made a face at him and looked at the cord again. You really, really didn’t want to stand up. So it occurred to you, maybe if...

You nodded to yourself and kneeled on the bed, using your hand on his nightstand to stabilize yourself, you basically crossed Dean with half of your body and extended your arm as far as possible to get the cable. That was the easy part, the cable wasn’t nearly as far. But the plug, that was another story.

Meanwhile, Dean sat there, sipping hard trying to ignore the fact that your ass was just inches away from his face. He tried, boy he tried not to check you out, you had been friends for the longest time, and while he had checked you out before (when he’d met you for the first time), he’d avoided that now that you’d grown closer. But you were wearing yoga pants, he could not resist yoga pants. As he was dumbfounded looking at your ass you continued trying to get the cable to the plug, causing you to stretch even further, giving Dean an even better view.

Eventually, you managed to connect the cable, and as you tuned to rejoice in your success the book on the shelf you were using as support gave in, and you started falling face-first to the ground.

Luckily, Dean who was very attentive of your movements at that point, managed to grab you by the hips and pull you in, causing your chest to collide with his, faces inches away from each other "It’s alright, I’ve got you." You could feel the warmth of his breath on your face, you breathed carefully, swallowing hard at the closeness.

“Umm... thanks, I uh... wasn’t expecting to fall,” You mumbled.

“No problem, that’s what friends are for,” he smiled, you stared at his mesmerizing green eyes for a little too long before realizing you were still on top of him.

“I... am... I’m going back to my place,” you whispered rolling off of him and sitting on your side.

“Hey listen, if you don’t want to continue watching the zombies, it’s perfectly fine for me, all right?”

“What? Are you scared now? princess?” Was your only reply.

He chuckled slightly and you both continued watching the show.

As the second episode of season two came to an end you were both in awe “Shit Carl!” You mumbled.

Dean, was also very tense beside you, Carl couldn’t die, he was one of the main characters. You kept telling yourselves that throughout the next episode. At some point even, both of you started holding hands, in reassurance to each other.

You wanted to continue watching but both of you were falling asleep “maybe we should call it a night?” He asked.

You nodded, and you headed to your room, it was just beside his, but you’d miss his warmth either way.

“Good night, princess,” he smirked.

“Good night,” you replied rolling your eyes “ass,” you smiled and closed his door as you left.

He let a breath out as he saw you walk out and placed the computer on his nightstand. He’d miss you laying by his side, both of you fell asleep soon after, wishing you were still together.

Dean woke up a few hours later to pee, and he heard you as he was coming back to his room, he knocked first but after no answer he opened the door and entered your room, you were asleep, but not peacefully, although quietly you mumbled words, “get away from me”, “nooooooo” and “Dean!” were only some of them.

“Hey!” He motioned towards you, he sat beside your bed and gently moved your shoulder, you were still trapped in your own nightmare “hey! princess! Wake Up!” He motioned again.

Still, no answer from you, after the third try you abruptly opened your eyes, your breath hitched and your eyes watery “Dean!” You smiled as you saw him. You quickly pulled him into a hug “Oh, you’re all right, you’re perfectly fine!” you whispered as you pushed him even closer to you, by now he’d returned the unexpected hug and made circles on you back with his palm.

“I’m fine princess, you were the one moaning about zombies” he teased.

You answered with a light hit in the shoulder “I wasn’t dreaming about zombies!”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say, princess,” he cooed, you wanted to argue, you really did but was it really a better thing for him to know what you really were dreaming of? Losing him to Lucifer. So you just rolled your eyes and let him have this one. “We can always stop watching it.”

“You wish! I have to know what happens to Carl,” you replied.

As the two of you stopped embracing each other you suggested “maybe we can watch a bit more? I’ll put it on my phone, just so we can get sleepy again.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he smiled as he motioned for you to move so he could fit in the bed. He took off his robe, setting it in the side and accommodated himself underneath the covers. Your bed was smaller than his, so you were even closer that you’d been in his room with the computer.

“Your pijamas are extremely soft” you said as he fumbled around inside the bed to get comfortable, you’d feel his muscles flexing underneath his pants and shirt as they touched your bare skin, you only had a pair of shorts and a short sleeve pijama top.

He frowened, and gave you a side eye, he had no clue how to respond “thanks?”

“I’ll steal it from you one of these days,” you said feeling the hem of his sleeve “it’s stupid soft.”

The idea of you wearing his shirt made him shiver in his mind, but he had to keep up the aparences “you can’t have my shirt!”

“I wasn’t asking for it Dean,” you smirked.

You gave each other a defiant look and then you put play on the episode that patently waited for you two on the screen of your phone.

You were attentively watching the episode when you heard a light snore, you turned towards Dean but he was fast asleep. You smiled slightly and denied with your head. Placing your phone on the nightstand and letting a breath out. You’d have to wake up the Winchester now, but just when you were about to motion him to wake, you felt his hand pulling you down from where you sat and towards him.

“Stop moving princess, I’m comfortable,” you heard him mumble in between his sleep. He pulled you in and snuggled against you, making you completely trapped with his arm and a few seconds later, his leg was also on top of yours, leaving you looking at the ceiling, without being able to move.

You took a deep breath and decided you’d just enjoy the moment instead. Falling asleep just a few minutes later, with his warmth comforting you this one night.

A/N: hope you enjoyed this little thing, opinions and feedback are always apreciated, much love -Rose.

Find more Dean Fluff here

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just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years

Text

Soulmate September - Day 6

Day 6 - When your soulmate is injured you will experience pain in that area

Pairing(s): Analoceitmus [ambiguous, can be read romantic or platonic, or a mix], QPR Royality

TWs: Injury mention, swearing, Remus being Remus near the end

–

“I’m going to sue him.”, Logan hissed, attempting to sit up in his hospital bed, “Soulmate or not, how can one man possibly be so irresponsible?! I’m definitely going to sue him.”

He winced as he tried to get comfy, but the tough mattress and uncomfortable bunching of the sheets said suffer.

And boy, was he.

Logan Sanders was an immaculate, careful man. Had been since he was a child. A neat and tidy lad who - upon learning of the rules of fate - made it his utmost mission to spare his soulmate any pain or anguish for as long as he could manage.

His soulmate, however, didn’t seem to share that sentiment.

From childhood, Logan found himself with sudden knee pains from scrapes he never fell for, abrasions he had caused no friction to gain, and the occasional shoulder or back pain as if he’d been pushed over when he was standing perfectly upright. At least the universe had decided to spare humanity the anguish of leaving soulmates with the physical injuries that came with the pain, but it was only a minor comfort.

Logan couldn’t say he hadn’t expected a lot of rough and tumble from his soulmate after his elementary school years, but really; a broken leg, facial burns, and a splintered forearm? “This is absolute bullshit.”, he bitterly muttered, “Barely hours apart! How is that even possible?!”

His ranting went ignored by the nurse who came to administer his medication; thankfully science had worked out a wonderful little clear pill that could banish the pain from particularly debilitating soulmate pains. The little bastards were expensive - the true pain is always capitalism within the medical world - but Logan’s job paid handsomely. Say what you will about computer nerds and whatnot, but programming for the right people lets you make some seriously high end bread. None of that homemade farmer’s market shit.

Unfortunately, he’d have to wait about a week for his pains to ebb gently into nothingness until the klutz of a man fate paired him with got into MORE trouble. Thus Logan couldn’t get back to his work. His leg was, for all intents and purposes, broken so the staff couldn’t let him go home. He couldn’t simply drive home himself either, his splintered forearm saw to that. And Logan couldn’t even ask his roommate Emile to bring him his work laptop to try and keep his workload at bay, his left eye was too cloudy and painful to concentrate on a screen.

Yes; his soulmate BETTER be paying his hospital bills.

Realisation struck Logan; his soulmate is obviously just as injured, ergo it’s a high probability that he could be somewhere within the hospital too. Using his good hand to reach for a pen, and absolutely dreading adding to his pain, Logan poked the tip into his good arm, wincing as he first attempted to contact them with simple morse code, “My/ Name/ Is/ Logan. Who/ Are/ You?”

He waited for a response, fearing he would have to start scratching his name onto his arm when he felt the little jabs in response, “Janus.” Great. He FINALLY had a name to put on the lawsuit. Logan, already wincing at the bee-sting pain from the pen, he jabbed out another message,

“Are/ You/ Currently/ Staying/ At/ Stokes/ General/ Hospital?”

The reply came cryptically,

“Yes / I / -”

Logan wasn’t sure why his soulmate had suddenly stopped replying. Had a nurse confiscated whatever his soulmate was using to poke himself? Either way, Logan would have to be content with the knowledge his soulmate was at least close by. He truly had no idea how close until two very disgruntled voices were within earshot of his room door,

“Brilliant, I just adore being ousted from my comfortable bed so I could spend even longer looking at your delightful face.”

“Oh, like you’re the victim here, asshole! You’re the one stabbing yourself and fucking up my unbroken arm!”

Logan watched them both argue outside of his room door. Both men were sporting similar injuries to his own; the first one that had spoken, refined looking gentleman with sharp features and neat blonde hair, had the left side of his face bandaged heavily. Meanwhile the other man, sporting raven hair and eye bags that could carry a month’s worth of groceries, was fitted with a cast on his left forearm. Both of them were on crutches, though Logan couldn’t see if either had a genuine cast.

“Ahem. Gentlemen?”

Logan called to them, watching as both turned to meet his gaze. He lifted the pen in his hand and asked, “I take it one of you is Janus?”

The man with the bandages over his eye, Janus, nodded, “That would be me.”

The man with the broken arm looked confused, “Wait, so, you’re the one who was ramming a pen into their arm? Damn.”, he turned, begrudgingly to the first man, “I guess I owe you an apology then.”

“Really you needn’t-”

“Then I shan’t.”

Janus glared at the other man’s snark, but Logan found it rather delightful. Clearing his throat once more, he breached the topic, “I take it that means we three are soulmates?”

“Four.”

Logan and Janus looked to the third man as he explained, “Your leg doesn’t have a proper cast on it, this asshole doesn’t have one either,”, Janus gifted the man a half glare and a middle finger before he continued, “And since I don’t have one, it’s pretty obvious there’s a fourth musketeer.”

Fair to say, Logan was impressed, even Janus was hiding the tiniest hint of admiration as he retorted, “And are we to call you Sherlock or D’artagnan?”

The man rolled his eyes, “Ha ha, fuck you. My name’s-”

“VIRGIL!!”

The man, Virgil, nearly lept out of his skin, jerking his arm and giving the three of them a jolt of pain. Logan felt relieved he’d only have to put up with it for a few more days once the medicine took effect.

In the doorway stood a man who could only be described as unnecessarily handsome, clad in a burgundy bomber jacket and a Nightmare Before Christmas shirt that seemed out of place on someone who stood poised like the protagonist of a romance anime. Logan noted he and Janus both checked to see if his leg was broken; good to know they had similar tastes even if the man’s lack of a cast dashed their hopes. Said handsome man made a beeline for Virgil, only to receive a swat and a motion to back off,

“Jesus fucking Christ, Princey, you nearly gave me a heart attack!!!”, Virgil hissed and took a deep breath. ‘Princey’ let out a fond huff, “You should be so lucky, Bring Me The Depression, do you know how worried Pat and I were when we couldn’t find you!? This, dearest Emo Nightmare, is karma at its finest-!”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up, Roman. Where’s Pat? He’s gonna wanna meet my soulmates.”

Roman blinked, finally registering Logan and Janus just watching the two of them reunite. Clearing his throat, Logan made the introductions, “I’m Logan Sanders, this gentleman is-”

“Janus Delgado. Charmed I’m sure.”, Janus butt in, “Really, Logan, I can introduce myself. Unlike some people.”

Virgil flipped him off just in time for Roman to frown in confusion, “And…. you’re all sure you’re soulmates? I mean, no offense but you don’t...”, he picked his words carefully, his face contorting at the effort, “....act like soulmates?”

The three of them looked between one another and shrugged, “To be perfectly fair - Roman, yes? - we have all literally just met today under…. Less than optimal circumstances. I doubt you and your soulmate, assuming you’ve found them, hit it off instantly.”

Roman blinked, “Kind of, we didn’t have any problems like this, quite honestly...”, he almost sounded guilty at that notion, “The worst we have to deal with is his cat allergies-”

Out in the hallway, a couple of nurses hurriedly walked past and allowed another man into the room who immediately lit up at the sight of Roman and Virgil, “There you both are!!! I got held up at the vending machine, but when I came back you were both gone!”

“Patton! How glad I am to see you once more!”, Roman beamed, pulling the taller man into a hug and planting a dramatic kiss upon his cheek, to which Logan, Janus, and Virgil simultaneously met with an ‘ugh’. Perhaps they were more alike than they first assumed.

Patton turned to meet Janus and Logan’s gaze, looking back to Virgil who explained, “They’re two of my soulmates, Pat.”

For a moment, the tall excitable ball of sunshine looked like he was about to pop with joy when Roman held up a hand to interject, “Pardon me, but ‘two of’?”, and cast his confusion towards Virgil who explained, “Our last soulmate has a broken leg, it’s the only injury we can’t account for.”

Patton and Roman shared a momentary look, drawing Logan’s attention, “Roman? Patton? Are you both alright?”. The two seemed to play eye contact rock-paper-scissors to decide who would answer, with Roman losing apparently.

“When exactly did you feel the pain in your leg?”

“Couple hours ago” “Around three?” “Precisely 3:27 pm.”

Came the chorus of answers. Janus and Virgil both shot Logan a look, to which he quietly murmured, “It never hurts to provide a little extra clarity.”

“Apparently so,”, Janus began, before shifting his partial gaze to the couple, “So, are you lovebirds-”

“Qpp’s.”, Patton corrected quietly, to which, Janus did apologise, “Pardon me. So, are you queer platonic saps going to clue us in to why exactly you asked us such a specific question?”

Roman sighed, “I ask because my brother, Remus, broke his leg at that exact same time today. Pat and I were going to visit him right after we’d checked in with Virgil.”

The three soulmates shared a collective look, but the first one to pipe up was Virgil, “You have a brother?! Why am I only finding this out now, I’ve known you for 12 fucking years, Roman! What the fuck!?”

Logan exasperatedly ran a hand down his face as he tried to maneuver himself out of his bed and into one of the hospital’s wheelchairs, Janus offering a hand to him, “Virgil, as much as I would love to listen to you and Roman bicker back and forth, could we possibly save such trivialities for after we meet our fourth soulmate?”

This time Patton piped up, “Oh, um, you may not want to do that just yet-”

As if on cue, roughly six or seven medical staff rushed by, causing Patton and Roman to quickly look around the doorway, only to turn back to the others, “Well, no time like the present. Patton, if you help Virgil, I’ll help Janus once Logan can shimmy into that wheelchair.”, Roman assigned as he offered an arm for Logan to hold onto while he got himself in the chair. Noting the context clues, Logan was rightfully worried, especially as he felt a new pain in his hand, only to note that while Roman and Patton helped them move, Virgil and Janus seemed to be experiencing more pain in their legs than before. In the moment, Logan did feel a little bad that the pill he’d taken hours earlier was saving him from too much additional pain. Approaching the hospital room the medical staff had gathered within, the group were greeted with a wild scene.

A scruffy man strikingly similar in looks to Roman - albeit sporting a thin moustache and silver hair streak - wearing a leg cast was holding a crutch in one hand and an honest to god butterfly knife in the other, standing atop his hospital bed, raving like a lunatic and gesturing frantically to an empty space in the room,

“NOW WILL SOMEBODY FINALLY LET ME OUT OF HERE?! ME AND THIS BEAR WANNA GO CATCH HORNY FISH AND SHIT IN THE WOODS!!”

Charming.

Logan glanced over at Patton and Roman, the question clear on his face just like their answer. That was Remus alright. He watched Roman talk with a nurse trying to calm Remus, “We gave him some painkillers to ease his leg pains, but it shouldn’t be affecting him this much!”

“Oh, Remus has always been like this with medication, I should’ve warned the nursing staff.”, he groaned, “But that doesn’t explain-”

“He must’ve pushed the blue button behind his bed,”, Logan sighed, already anticipating Roman’s question, “The medical staff likely assumed Remus was coding and thus went into action. That’s why they’re here right now.”

Roman’s expression confirmed that was indeed going to be his question. As Roman went to help the nurses tranquilise Remus’ wild flailing, and while his other two soulmates stood by to watch the chaos - in varying degrees of worry and strange admiration bordering on attraction for his disregard for social norms - Logan tried to come to terms with the facts.

He had three very different soulmates, and by the looks of it? He’d have to get used to frequent hospital stays….

--------------

This one’s probably on the weirder side, but uh, yeah, I hope it’s still a good read! [Also sorry these have been a little late lately TTvTT] @tsshipmonth2020 Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses

#analoceitmus #logan sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #royality #qpr!royality #roman sanders #patton sanders #my fics #fanfics #tsshipmonth2020 #soulmate september #this one just went wild #i dunno what to tell you #reads a little more like analogical and demus if i think about it #but whatever it was fun

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 years

Link

It was as if the world came to a stop after the attacks on the World Trade Center and Pentagon on September 11, 2001. Nothing was the same after that. Three thousand people lost their lives, and our lives as Americans changed forever, or so it has seemed.

Every single one of us is still living with the results of what 19 terrorists did on a single day 20 years ago, especially when it comes to travel by airplane. We’re all familiar with the way TSA inspections have changed air travel. There are the long lines at the security gates at airports. Unless you have TSA “precheck” or have been lucky enough to get a boarding pass that lets you pass through a special line, you have to take off your jacket, belt, and shoes for screening. You must remove your laptop and put it in a separate bin from your carry-on luggage. You cannot travel with anything that the TSA thinks might be used as a weapon, including wine bottle corkscrews, fingernail files and clippers and scissors, screwdrivers…essentially anything sharp and pointed. You can’t travel with any liquids in containers larger than 3 ounces, and you’re limited to only a few of those. You have to pass through a scanner, and if you have any kind of surgical devices in your body, you have to have your body physically patted down to be allowed on an airplane.

Beginning in May of 2023, we will have to carry “Real ID” compliant identification to get on a federally regulated airplane – in effect, every commercial flight. There will be no exceptions.

And since the onslaught of the COVID pandemic, you are required to wear a mask in the airport and on the plane.

But I have a question: with all the other requirements we have to endure, why aren’t we required to be vaccinated against COVID to travel on airplanes?

Think of it. You’re locked into the familiar aluminum tube with a hundred or more other people. You have no way of knowing if the person seated next to you or across the aisle has been recently exposed to a COVID positive person. There’s no way to “socially distance” on an airplane and move away from other people. As far as masks go, medical experts are constantly telling us that wearing a mask is “to protect others,” because even KN-95 masks can’t be relied upon to protect you.

So why doesn’t the FAA, or the Transportation Security Administration, or the Department of Homeland Security, or somebody in authority anyway, issue a requirement that we are vaccinated? If we have to give up all these other “freedoms,” like the freedom to travel with an 8-ounce container of hair conditioner or a pair of fingernail clippers, why shouldn’t we be required to give up the “freedom” of traveling without protecting ourselves and others from this deadly disease by being vaccinated?

It’s madness. Three thousand people died on 9/11. But an average of 3,000 people have died from COVID every three days since the pandemic hit in January of 2020.

More than 660,000 people have died. That is nearly 100,000 people more than the population of the state of Wyoming!

What do you think would happen if terrorists flew an airplane, or even two airplanes, filled with some sort of deadly gas and crashed into a field in Wyoming and everyone in that state was killed?

That is essentially what has happened to this country over the last 18 months. An airplane filled with a deadly virus crashed into the United States of America killing 660,000 people.

Everything changed after 9/11: we started two shooting wars and launched a so-called “war on terror”; we formed an entirely new department of our government, the Department of Homeland Security, on which we spend $50 billion a year; we began a program of torture in questioning terrorist suspects; we built a special prison in Cuba to house suspected terrorists; we instituted a program of “rendition” to grab suspected terrorists off the streets and spirit them away to special “black site” interrogation centers where they were tortured and even killed; we allowed one of our intelligence agencies to sweep up billions of our electronic communications and examine them for “terrorist contacts”; we put the aforementioned requirements on air travelers; and we spent approximately 7 trillion dollars spinning our wheels in multiple foreign countries trying to insure that “the homeland” is not hit by another terrorist attack.

All of this because 3,000 people lost their lives.

With 660,000 dead, what have we done? Why, we’ve done what we usually do these days. We started a culture war.

After President Biden announced his plans for vaccine mandates that will apply to government employees and contractors and companies with more than 100 employees, Republican governors and attorneys general across the country lined up to sue to stop these new federal mandates. Today we read that certain labor unions have expressed opposition to mandated vaccines.

And they’re not even real mandates!

You can opt out of getting a vaccination by producing a test once a week proving you are not COVID positive.

What is this madness? With 660,000 dead, why don’t we have a whole new department of the federal government, “The Department of Pandemic Prevention and Treatment” or something like it?

With 660,000 dead, why aren’t we spending $50 billion a year on COVID? Why aren’t we dedicating another $50 billion a year to prevent the next pandemic?

With 660,000 dead, what are we doing arguing over masks? With 660,000 dead, why are we arguing over vaccines mandates? In the state of Texas alone – where the culture war over this disease thrives – 9,000 people have lost their lives from COVID since February.

All but 43 of them were unvaccinated.

Since April of 2020, there have been 5 million children infected with COVID. That is about 15 percent of all cases. In the last month – August – 22.4 percent of COVID cases were among children. In the week ending August 26 alone, 204,000 children were diagnosed with this terrible, deadly disease. As of September 8, the CDC reported a total of 486 deaths among children under 18. The rate children are dying from COVID is up 110 percent between July and September.

Children, who rely on us for protection from this disease, are getting sick and dying in record numbers.

What is this madness? Why isn’t the Republican Party out there demanding that masks be mandated in schools and businesses and other closed public spaces? Why don’t Republicans support a mandatory country-wide federal program to vaccinate every human being over the age of 12?

Don’t Republican governors care that their citizens and their children are dying from this horrible disease?

We pulled together after 9/11 and agreed to subject ourselves to all kinds of new mandates and requirements. Why haven’t we pulled together since this pandemic hit and took 660,000 American lives?

We know how to keep people from getting sick and dying. We know how to keep red states from having to back up trucks to be used as mobile morgues outside hospitals. After 18 months of experience with this disease, we know what works.

What is this madness?

#COVID-19 #global pandemic #Vaccination #Lucian Truscott Newsletter #Lucian Truscott

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years

Note

Hii Hailey ✨ I’m so excited for your Halloween blurbs 🍂 could I ask for a 12 enemies to lovers smut with Ash, pleaseee 😍❤️

I’m so happy you’re excited! I hope you like this and thank you for sending in a request🥰

warnings: slight dom!ash, a sexy maids outfit and a brief voyeuristic experience.

12. “Oh, bite me.” “Don’t tempt me.”

@littledrummeraussie i’m tagging you because of a conversation we’ve had about werwolf ashton, i hope thats okay🥺👉🏻👈🏻

• • • •

Ever since you turned into a werewolf, the Alpha, Ashton has been nothing short of hostile towards you. He’s always calling you out when you’re late for pack dinners at his place then quips back with how bad whatever dish you brought. One wasn’t vegan enough, or one had too much sugar in it.

He’d always have you run mundane errands for him like picking up his laundry from the cleaners or delivering a package back home to his family. One time he made you wash his precious car Frankie that you were oh so tempted to spit on rather than clean it.

He always pinned you out of the rest. Not once did he ask any other pack member to do his chores for him. Because he was Alpha, you couldn’t put him in his place without facing consequences.

Halloween is quickly approaching and you came home to a white box sitting perfectly on your bed. Ashton’s scent lingered in the room and with a huff you approach the box. On top of it is your name scratched in his scrawl on a folded piece of paper. Flipping it up you read what he wrote.

“For all the help you’ve done for me. Costume’s on me.”

Confused, you toss the note aside and lift the box tearing away the tissue. You set your jaw and a low growl emits from your chest as you stare at the black and white ruffled ensemble complete with a feather duster and little bonnet.

He’d given you a damn maid’s outfit.

Furious, you snatch the skimpy fabric in your fingers and stomp your way towards Ashton’s office which is adjacent to his bedroom. Without knocking, you barrel through the door and find him in a compromising position with some female. A female you’ve seen at other parties that belonged to another pack.

Ignoring his bare ass and the female’s shocked expression, you glare at the smirk on his face.

“Found my gift then, yeah?” he asks tousling his hair.

“What is your problem with me? Is this some kind of crude initiation that only I have to go through?” you snarl. You almost want to toss it in his face.

“Just showing my gratitude.”

“Go to hell,” you sneer then spin on your heels.

“Hey!” he barks, his Alpha voice booming through. You have no choice but to turn when he uses that tone. “You don’t speak to me like that, Omega.”

“I don’t care anymore,” you scoff, “Some pack family mentality you have in thinking you can single me out. I’m not your maid.”

You saw anger flash in his eyes at your defiance against him. No one speaks to an Alpha like how you are. Ever.

“Ashton,” the female whines trying to turn his attention back on her.

“Shush,” he commands and she squeaks into silence. “That outfit says otherwise. I expect to see you in that on Halloween.”

“Oh, bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

With a final glare down, you spin out of his office and slam his door in your wake. As you stalk back to your room an idea springs in your mind. You lay the maids’ outfit on your bed noticing the length of the skirt would go just to your knees and the bell sleeves on the shoulders were a bit obnoxious. Smiling to yourself, you decide you will wear the outfit after making a few adjustments.

It’s Halloween night and you’re taking a last minute look at your outfit in the mirror. You shortened the skirt so that it just barely covered your ass cheeks which you had on a ruffled black pair of panties. You added more tulle so the skirt bounced while you walked and you pulled on some fish net stockings with tall black stilettos. You chopped off the bell sleeves so they would hang off your shoulder and you got a push up bra that accentuated your breasts.

You finished the look off with red lipstick and fake blood smeared all over you. Some if it dripped perfectly between your breasts and you couldn’t wait to see Ashton’s face. As if he knew you were thinking of him, your phone buzzed in the tone you’ve set for him.

“We’re low on drinks.”

Rolling your eyes, you toss your phone to your bed then make your way downstairs. Green and purple lights flash across your skin as you descend the stairs. The party is loud and the people are enjoying themselves.

You sniff the air for his scent and find him near the small bar along the wall. The female he was pleasuring in his room earlier in the week is hanging off him in a skimpy outfit but his eyes lock with yours.

He’s in a simple suit with some blood smeared on him as well, was he a mobster? To bait him even more, you do a small twirl before strutting up next to him. You tell Michael your drink order, he’s the bartender for the evening, then tap your nails on the counter.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he asks lowly in your ear. The timber in his voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up but not in an intimidating way.

“The outfit you gifted me, isn’t it nice?” you smile up at him.

“That’s not the one I bought.”

“No, I made it better. You see, the blood here,” you point to your forehead, “and here,” you trail your finger down the drip into your cleavage. His eyes follow the movement slowly. “Is from the maid’s master of the house. She couldn’t take the abuse anymore and murdered him.”

Ashton growls and his female friend tugs on his arm. He holds up his hand to her face, palm up signaling her to stop her antics. You touch the blood that’s on his shirt.

“Are you the master I killed?” you ask then grab your drink and walk away before he can answer.

You could feel his eyes on you for the rest of the night as you danced, took shots, and flirted with some of the males in attendance. When you start to feel a bit warm from the party and the alcohol, you head outside in the back and make your way to the other side of the pool near the pool house.

When your back is turned to the pool house, you’re suddenly lifted off your feet and dragged inside the through the door. You start to scream and snarl at the attacker but then you’re pressed against the wall with a firm hand over your mouth.

As your eyes adjust to the darkness you’re staring into Ashton’s eyes. They’re filled with something you’ve never seen before, his cockiness is present but something else you’re unfamiliar with.

“Do you have any idea how mad you’ve been making me in this outfit?” he mutters releasing his hand from your mouth. You exhale loudly.

“That was the goal,” you smirk and he slams his hands on the wall on either side of your head. You laugh at how riled up he is then when you feel his hardened member against your fishnet covered thigh, you glance down. “This part doesn’t seem so mad.”

“Damn, you’ve got a lip on you all of a sudden,” he growls pressing himself against you. You moan at feeling his hot member on your leg and he smirks. “Seems like someone else is riled up. You’ve really been tempting me all night, do you know that?”

“No, how would I possibly tempt you when you have that female begging for you constantly?”

“Because you’ve been tempting me ever since you turned. You really think I sent you on those errands because I hated you? Oh, no,” he tsks shaking his head. “I did that so I wouldn’t be distracted from leading the pack. And I gave you that outfit as a joke but then to see you in it like this?” His eyes take you in and he trails his finger down the fake blood drip in between your breasts. “It took all of me not to take you in the middle of the floor in front of everyone.”

“What?”

He chuckles darkly then leans forward, his lips just barely touching yours in a teasing way. His breath tickles your lips and you desperately want him to close the small space. His one hand is still pressed against the wall by your head while the other one travels down your waist, his touch is burning you through the fabric until he pushes apart your thighs.

“I’m surprised you have anything on under here, little one,” he condescends then in one swift motion rips apart your ruffled panties. The pieces fall to the floor and you feel a slight chill then his hot finger presses against your center. “You smell so good right now...”

His middle finger slips between your folds and you jump at the contact, your hands grasping at his biceps. He laughs against your lips, his tongue teasing along the seam of your mouth. You open your mouth willingly but he pulls back slightly.

“Oh no, you’re going to have to use your words, little one. Wanna hear you beg for me.” The tip of his finger presses against your hole and you let out a cry at the tease of entry.

You mouth the word ‘please’ and he pulls back further, his finger stilling.

“Oh no, no, no. I need to hear you,” he commands.

“Please,” you choke out tugging him closer by the collar of his shirt. “Please, touch me. Kiss me.”

You pull the same time he pushes and your lips are hot and fiery on his while his finger plunges inside you. He’s quick to add a second and you’re moaning in his mouth as his fingers twiddle against your spongy wall.

“So wet,” he mutters moving his lips to your jaw, fingers still scissoring you. “You’re dripping down my fingers.”

You rock against his hand, rolling your hips and he latches his mouth to your breast. When you feel your orgasm approaching, Ashton moves his fingers faster, faster, and faster until--

You growl loudly when he removes his hands very quickly.

“What the hell?” You hiss watching him slip his two fingers in his mouth. He hums, eyes closing.

“Such sweetness.”

You hear the zip of his pants and then he has your legs wrapped around his waist, the head of his dick nudges your entrance and his hand creeps up your neck. He gives your throat a slight squeeze, not enough for pain but enough to make you gasp quietly.

“I want to feel you come around me, feel you drip down my cock and I don’t want you to be silent. Understand, little one?”

You nod the best you can, he smiles. The same time he presses his lips to yours, he plunges into you and you let out a loud groan at being filled. He keeps you suspended in the air with one hand below your thigh and his other still on your throat but his fingers push your lips together so he can slip his tongue inside your mouth.

He pounds into you at a quick speed, his hips snapping against yours as your back jolts against the pool house wall. Your moans become louder as he hits that sweet, sweet spot and his teeth close down on the skin of your neck. You scream his name, fingers pulling on his hair as he fucks your orgasm out of you.

You’re whining in his ear and when another electric shock of pleasure courses through you, you bite on his ear. He growls against you from the slight pain and then you feel him spill inside you. You’re hot all over, burning from the inside out yet you need more of Ashton. How were you supposed to go back to the party now?

As you both catch your breath, you’re clenching and unclenching around him and he groans.

“Give me a few minutes and we’ll go again, little one. Stop clenching.”

“Sorry,” you whisper.

He lifts his face from your neck then gazes at you in a different sort of way again. You’re seeing many different things in his eyes tonight but you want to explore more.

“I had a feeling you’d listen well,” he smirks then pecks your lips and rubs his nose against yours. “Would you want to continue this upstairs in my room?”

“How am I going to go upstairs when you ripped my underwear?”

“Run fast, sweetness,” he giggles and kisses you before you can retort. You melt into him once more.

Needless to say, you don’t head upstairs until two more rounds later and he offers you his suit jacket to cover up your bare lower half.

“You’re my sweetness now, no one else can have a peek.”

• • • •

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