Tumgik
#i mean i guess you could eat it plain but you don't and especially not in an indian restaurant im
d34dlysinner · 6 months
Note
Hi hi~ I can't get over the reaction of Ppyong after eating chocolate from human world, especially that it got compared to Beelzebub's cooking.
I'd like to request a scenario of Kings (and Sitri with Zagan, if that's OK with you) trying some human food~ I don't exactly know what dish or sweets to propose
Have a great day and best luck in gacha!
(Thanks! XD also wish you a great day and luck in gacha)
Satan loves snake venom wine. The moment you heard that you wondered if you should actually give him human food. Thinking that it'll be too plain for him. So you started small. Giving the human like variant of his favourite food. Just normal red wine. And you were right. It was too plain for him, but it didn't mean that he hated it. He then tried various desserts, donuts, cakes. He had to admit that he liked those more than the wine you gave him.
Beelzebub loved many types of food. He is a great cook after all. So when he tasted human food he wasn't all too surprised with liking it. What did surprise him was that good human food was on par with his cooking.
"You humans eat like this every day without any side effects?... I should come here more."
He does like the chaos that comes out of his decisions and creations, hut he had to admit that at times he probably doesn't have the greatest control over what exactly happens after eating his food.
Mammon favourite food was peach. So he atleast could easily enjoy peaches in the human world. You eventually introduced him to many desserts and dishes that contained peach or other fruits similar to peaches. He liked them all. He would even ask you to prepare some of those dishes from time to time. Or let someone who serves him master in cooking those dishes.
Leviathan would seem like the type to be a picky eater. He would take his time choosing what he wants to eat and when he doesn't know he'll let you decide. That's what happens when you offer him a menu in the human world. You both sat at a cafe as you waited for him to pick. He eventually went and picked what you took. "Human food is so confusing... but I'll understand once I ate some of it...", he says as he observes the dish in front of him.
Zagan was being his usual self. He didn't say much when you offered him some food. He didn't say much when he ate the food, but he did thank you. You kind of had to guess what he thought of the food with just his expressions. Him humming wasn't enough for you to decipher his thoughts. You were happy when he decided to close his eyes and silently enjoyed the food with a slight smile on his face.
Sitri is a man who loves tea. And there's nothing that goes better with tea than cookies and cake. So you promised Sitri to bring him some human worldly food for him to try with his tea. You started out simple and brought some cookies with you. He thanked you for the food as he observed the treats up close. He took one out and bit a little of the cookie as he savored the taste. "Sweet... It'll work nicely with some teas I have." He says as he thanks you yet again for introducing him to human world foods.
232 notes · View notes
el-huddpudd · 4 months
Text
It's the [honesty] climb
FCG, "I enjoy eating silver more than copper."
Imogen, "I am genuinely scared to meet my mom again."
Laudna, "Deep down inside, both Delilah and I kind of want the shard.
Imogen, "I love Laudna deeply. But I'm disgusted at the thought of Delilah looking at us all the time."
Orym, "I'm super lonely all the time, especially at night. Doesn't matter if I'm bunking with one of you guys."
FCG, "Sometimes I pity some of you because you have beating hearts and opportunities and you don't do enough with them."
Orym, "I've always laughed it off but I guess I do kind of wonder if Chetney is my dad."
Ashton, "I am the reason that the Jiana Hexum job went fucking wrong and the reason why I got thrown out of a fucking window."
Fearne, "I feel like we're very ill equipped to do this job and we're gonna to fail at saving the world."
Chetney, "While wood may be the superior material to metal I do fear that with the dwindling interest in it that children will find my toys and thereby myself obsolete every year that I grow older."
FCG, "So I think it's something buried deep down in my circuitry, but every time I hurt or kill something, I feel really good. It makes me sort of relax a little bit and some of my stress goes away."
Imogen, "I know we're supposed to save the gods but I've tried talking to them my whole life and none of them will ever respond. I think I'm tainted. I don't know if I want to save gods that don't love me."
Laudna, "You know we could all ripcord out of this at any moment, right? And I don't mean this scavenger hunt, I mean saving the world, right? Sometimes I fantasize about it all the time."
Fearne, "I sometimes I do stuff to you guys while you're sleeping. Not weird stuff. I just like to look at you closely."
Ashton, "Anytime it's too quiet, I start worrying one of us or most of going to end up killing another one of us, accidentally." (Orym, very gently.)
Orym, "I have all the faith in the world you guys, all of you. And I have also spent time thinking how to neutralize each of you."
FCG, "I kind of worry that I put all my eggs in the Changebringer basket and she might betray us all. I had a really weird conversation with her and I think she's just out for herself and she might not care about me at all."
Imogen, "Fearne, I was really disappointed in you for running away from your power. You should take the shard."
Orym, "I really miss Dorian and sometimes I think that's okay and sometimes I think it isn't."
Ashton, "I feel fucking worse that I just fucked up Fearne's life way more than mine and I should've died instead of that happening."
Chetney, "I grew up in the Bramblewood outside of Westeruun and when I was a kid, I came back from learning how to make toys and found that my whole family had left. All they left behind were toys. And they ran when the Errevon the Rimelord was running across the plains so I'm kind of afraid of dragons. I had five siblings: Alabaster, Pepper, Sugarplum, Hermey, and Chad. And I was so mad that they left I never looked for any of them and now I'm pretty sure they're dead. So I think any family I have is just gonna look for a reason to leave me, that's why I won't get attached to anybody."
Chetney 2, Laudna 2, FCG 4, Fearne 2, Imogen 4, Orym 4, Ashton 3
101 notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 1 year
Text
Seokjin: Memory Lane
Tumblr media
In which you find an old Journal of Jin's, where his past self has some pretty interesting thoughts about you.
Tags/Warnings: Idol Seokjin, angst, fluff, adult themes mentioned but not in detail
Length: mid
♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
You're sorting through old stuff when you find it.
It's really not even a journal- it's more like a very old spiral block, cardboard front decorated in old stickers, torn on the edges and faded. You can't make out the years at all on most pages- but the entries seem old.
It's Jin's. It's definitely his. You'd remember his handwriting even if you're sixty.
You really just skip through some pages. As soon as you see something personal, you attempt to close it, trying to conserve his privacy even though he's put his life basically out there for all to see anyway as an Idol now. But then, you catch your name written in bold letters. A heart accompanying it.
You can't help yourself.
You know that's unhealthy. Relishing in the past is never a good idea, especially when so many now harsh and painful memories accompany it. But with it in your hands now, it's already happened. The first words already have you back in a chockehold because even in writing, Jin had always been nothing but himself.
[Remember to always carry snacks around- she loves snacks, more than big meals]
He'd scribbled that one one page, as if it was an important note.
[How come she can forget to eat but never forgets how I tripped and fell face first into the mud when we went on that fishing trip together?]
You do remember that. He'd asked you to come along multiple times, and every time you'd told him you didn't even know how to fish at all. Even so, he still invited you every time, told you to come watch him at least, and that he would one day figure out how to prepare fish properly to eat it. He's always been like that. If he didn't know how to do something, he'd do everything to figure it out somehow.
[I like the inside of her arms. The skin is so smooth, and warm, and when my hands are cold, I can just sneak them into her way too big sleeves to warm them up (remember to ask for my sweater back)]
Even now you still love wearing too large sized clothing. It gives you comfort, warms you up, steps in for a person that could and maybe even should hold you during cold nights like these.
He never asked for that sweater back.
[She cut her hair and I told her it's weird. I didn't mean weird as in bad?? It's just different, and I don't know how to explain it. It's bad. In the way that I'm jealous. When I have to get my hair cut one day, can I still look as pretty as she does? I'd probably date her if she was bald, too. How unfair.]
It makes you laugh. You really thought he'd hated your short hair when it happened. You'd had to cut it because bleaching and coloring it too much had damaged it beyond any saving- and when Jin had seen it, he'd laughed, called it weird. You never let him explain, just left him standing there in the school's hallways.
[I can't sing well, and I can't play the guitar very well either. Jungkook had sung his girlfriend a song yesterday, and I never felt so bad. I want to impress her too, but honestly, what's so something I can do well apart from bragging?]
You never knew he'd felt that way about himself. If anything, you'd ways taken him for overly confident, sure of himself, both feet steady on the ground below. You had always thought that his insecurities were limited to just being fickle and unsure often. Maybe a bit messy here and there. But not.. This.
No matter if he was an expert at either singing or play g the guitar, that night when you both had drunkenly sang to the tune of the radio will always stay one of your fondest memories.
[I asked her out. I did it. And guess what? She said no.]
You sigh at that. It's clear from the plain sentence and the fact that there's a streak like a pen having been thrown at the paper tells you his frustration in that moment must've been huge. But you couldn't say yes.
He was on the wave of sucess. Their sales had been at an all time high. Suddenly, everyone was talking about the seven guys from south korea. Suddenly, he was finally being seen by millions. He would've given that up in a heartbeat for you, you know this.
It's exactly why you said no.
[I wonder how she's doing. I haven't talked to her mother in ages- would it be weird if I was to send her a present for her birthday this year? Maybe. God, what if she has a boyfriend now? What if she's married? Or has KID'S?!]
Theres a crying face scribbled on the side, together with the phrase 'i don't want to get old alone'.
It hurts to read. But looking at how far he's come now, you know it was for the best. You still checked his social media often, found yourself feeling weird at any dating rumor spread. As if the world was mocking you.
He's fine now, you know he is. He's got his family and friends around him. He's got all the love he could ever need, and someday, he will have his own little family as well.
There's a page littered with old faded images of the two of you. He looks incredibly young, wears glasses in some photos, and you trace the dates on them fondly.
Sometimes memories hurt. Other times they make you sad.
And sometimes, they let you relive what was, and daydream about what could've been.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"Yah, that's private you little gremlin, how did you even find that in the first place?! These photos look hideous, they need to be destroyed!" he yells, running after you, your hands still clutching the notebook tightly as you dash upstairs.
"Give that back!" he yells, laughing along with you when he catches you on the bed, your arms securely holding the book whe he leans over you. "you know, with the position we're in I could see myself getting in the mood for some loving my wife." he raises his eyebrows suggestively. You laugh, putting the notebook on the bedside table, his lips eagerly placed on yours as soon as you turn back to him.
Well aware that he cherishes those memories just as much as you do.
He'd never throw them away.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
129 notes · View notes
wafflebloggies · 3 months
Text
the long con - part 2/7
a Don't Feed The Muse/Captain Disillusion crossover story. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
*
When Mark finally lifted his head again, he realised that, of the few people who had been sitting at the long table, there was only one other guy left. He was only a few seats away, eating fries, his eyes fixed on the screen of his small laptop with a poorly-disguised air of conscious embarrassment.
Mark realised that his conversation with Anthony had not been very quiet. The guy had probably heard every word of it, although to his credit he looked as if he’d much rather not have. Feeling rather hot in the face, Mark was ready to just slink off and follow Anthony, except that right behind the first realization came another, even less welcome.
He knew the guy.
Recognized, was the better word. He hadn’t realised right away, because the last time he’d seen him, he’d been sitting alongside Anthony in the hot darkness of the main auditorium. Not only that, but in costume and with half his face painted bright silver, up on stage under a bank of bright lights, pacing, talking, he’d looked a whole lot different from how he did right now. He looked like an entirely different person, just a nondescript guy in jeans and a faded shirt with his lanyard twisted round the wrong way, awkwardly eating fries.
He glanced up, and their eyes met.
Mark didn’t feel like he had a lot of dignity left to preserve, but he tried, anyway, struggling for the first thing he could think of to say to make this less uncomfortable. He half-laughed, indicating the guy’s food, his own.
“Sorry, I was just thinking how I picked the bad ending. Those look way better than, um, this.”
(Cool, great, Mark. Smooth. Well done.)
The guy smiled. “Vegetarian?”
“Yeah.”
“Plain fries are usually a safe bet, even a convention food stall doesn’t have a lot of scope there to...” He gave the lasagna a sympathetic, mildly horrified look, and slid the fries a little way towards Mark.
“Oh, uh, no, but thanks. I guess you go to a lot of cons?” Mark shook his head. “I mean, of course you do. I- you’re Captain Disillusion, right?”
The guy gave a head-shake of his own, a wry, self-deprecating half-smile. “No, just his intern. My name’s Alan.”
“Right, yeah, okay. Sorry.” Mark felt a queasy stomach-spike of embarrassment. Of course the guy didn’t want to be called by his character name, his YouTube persona, when he was just trying to eat and probably catch some alone time. “Uh, I’m Mark. Mark Mayhew.”
“Hi, Mark,” said Alan, lifting his hand in an artless sort of mini-wave. He was older than Mark by at least ten years, a little grey just beginning to fleck his dark, curly hair at the temples, and up close he had the worn, mildly abstracted look of someone who hadn’t slept well for at least a week straight. He was pink around the eyes and slightly sunburned across the nose, and- like pretty much everyone else around them- dressed in a way that suggested his clothes had been screwed up in a suitcase for longer than was good for them.
Mark sat himself up a little straighter. The inevitable sick tension was starting to grow somewhere around the bottom of his throat, as he tried to pull together the enthusiasm, wind himself up for the pitch. It was the absolute last thing that he wanted to do, but with this kind of chance thrown his way, he couldn’t give himself the time to even think of passing it up.
“Hey, are- are you busy right now?”
“Not exactly I’m waiting for...” Alan hesitated, indicated his laptop with a fry. “Well, anyway, I’ve been watching videos of Korean jelly rabbit desserts for like an hour.”
Mark took a deep breath. “I saw your talk on Friday. Really good, the effects, um, especially the way you used pre-recorded stuff? I feel like you put in more effort for just a talk about-” For a nightmare moment, he nearly forgot what the talk had been about completely, but a memory of Anthony raving happily about it afterwards saved him. “-citing sources and stuff, um, than literally anyone else we’ve seen this weekend. Just, really great. A- a lot of fun.”
Alan looked weirdly, wincingly uncertain about the compliment, but Mark thought he looked pleased too. He would have taken anything as encouragement, just now. He’d been doing this (as Anthony had been so quick to point out) in various ways, with varying flavours of abject failure as a result, all weekend. It did not get easier with practice, certainly not for Mark, who in some ways was more sensitive than he would ever been able to admit. Rejection struck him deeply in a very vulnerable place, no matter how he tried to steel himself beforehand.
And sure, while the channel had just been fun, with no pressure and no expectations, he’d only ever wanted the next video to be better than the last. He’d really cared, like Anthony cared, about how good they were for themselves, and how enjoyable they were to make. Fun and creativity, two aspects he’d thrown aside, had to, in exchange for this, for how they could potentially…
“And,” he continued before he could lose his nerve altogether, digging into the front pocket of his backpack and pulling out a card, “I thought, maybe, you might be interested in a collab? I know,” he said, quickly, wishing his hands didn’t feel so immediately sweaty or his face so hot, “it’s not exactly the same kind of content, we’re mainly about the movie reviews so far, but I know you’ve touched on movies before, you did that Ghostbusters thing, so it’s not so much of a jump, right?”
“Um,” said Alan. He looked immediately uncomfortable, and although he did take the card, it was very transparent that he was only looking at it as an alternative for looking up, or anywhere near Mark. “I mean, I don’t-”
“-and we’re not that big yet, but we’ve been growing pretty fast and if you could help us with some visibility I feel like our demographic would really-”
“Hey, listen,” said Alan, gently, “Mark- right?”
“Yeah.” It was on the card, along with Anthony’s name, their contact info, a nice professional embossed front which Mark was starting to really regret paying extra for. Nobody he’d managed to give one to had seemed too interested in actually looking at it. He had a wretched conviction that most of the cards he’d managed to give out over the weekend were lying around in various trashcans around the con, in corners, under booths, discarded in rooms.
Alan did look at the card, at least. He passed it uncomfortably from one had to the other, turning it over.
“This kind of thing really... wouldn’t be up to me,” he said. “You’d have to ask the Captain, but, um…”
He put it down on the table, on top of his own little pile of paper.
“I don’t think he’s looking to do any collabs right now.”
“Right,” said Mark. His stomach was a sick little lump, and his disdain for the guy sitting across from him was rising, despite his efforts to shut off, to not take it personally. Once the initial rejection was over, he was learning, it wasn’t always easy to extract himself without anything happening to make him feel worse. In this case, he didn’t appreciate this guy’s facetious tactic of hiding behind his own made-up character, like it was a joke, like Mark wasn’t even worth taking seriously. It was definitely the weirdest rejection he’d gotten so far, and probably the most cowardly. A kind of ‘you’d have to ask Management,’ when they both knew the Management in question was fictional.
“I guess ‘Captain Disillusion’ usually works with bigger channels,” he said, and the disappointment and humiliation – not just from this, more from this being a sequel of the entire miserable weekend- sharpened his voice far more than he intended it to.
Alan didn’t seem offended, though. He sort-of-laughed.
“I’m starting to see where the ‘Cynical’ part comes in,” he said. “It’s not really about that. When we make a video, we just kind of usually want to make a point, and if there’s a channel that wants to work with us that we feel like would help make it clearer, or more entertaining, and it’s relevant to what we wanted to do…” He shrugged. “It just kind of happens naturally, you know? It’s not always a great idea to push something just because you want to grow, or look better in the algorithm. It’s not how we work, anyway. I mean, it’s not how the Captain works, it… never has been. I really think, that if you just make the stuff you want to make, the right people will find it. It just… takes time.”
This was so close to what Anthony had said, that Mark felt his frustration and the fear in his chest kick up a notch just as if it had been Anthony sitting there saying it. He looked away, picking up his spork and poking at the rubbery cheese-adjacent substance on top of his lasagna. “Right.”
And then, ignoring the small voice that told him not to, the better instinct that whispered that it was a bad idea and he should just shut up about the whole thing and move on with at least a molecule of dignity intact, he said, “It must be great to have the option. Just work with whoever you want, right?”
“Uh-”
“We’re getting there, though,” continued Mark. On some level he was quite aware that he sounded stupidly petty, spiteful, the epitome of sour grapes, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. “I know you don’t do sponsors, I mean, I noticed you’ve never had one that wasn’t, you know, made up, buuut... actually we’ve already had an offer from a pretty big concern? I don’t wanna name-drop until everything’s hammered out, but there could be a lot of money in the kind of stuff they’ve been talking about with us.”
(With me.)
“I mean,” said Alan, thoughtfully, after a pause, “congratulations? Maybe? But, um…” He hesitated, rubbing an ear, looking past Mark and across the disarray of empty seats as if looking for the right words, then sighed and pulled in his chair, leaning in. He had not, initially, struck Mark as the kind of person who felt comfortable making eye contact, often or at all, but now he looked up and caught Mark’s eye. His own look was anxious, but steady, and kind.
“Look, I’ve probably been on YouTube for a couple…” He glanced at the card again. “...or, um, fourteen, years, longer than you have, and if I could tell you anything I’ve learned, it’s probably that if someone… okay, if anyone’s offering a small channel a lot of money up front or… talking about exposure, like, they’ve got big contacts behind the scenes, stuff like that? Maybe?”
He looked up, but Mark had control of himself again, and his face was a wall.
“Then, uh, they probably don’t have... your best interests? In mind. I’m not saying everyone’s like that, but… look, even just listening to you and your friend- sorry, uh, you guys were a little loud- but I can tell you have a lot of enthusiasm. A lot of ideas. And... sometimes that’s a problem, because there’s people who’d be happy to just take all of it, take all of your energy and creativity from you as if it’s all just fuel for…” He spiralled a hand, uncertainly. “I don’t know. Something you’ll never see any return for, anyway. Your creative identity, and- and your ideas, they’re the most important commodity you have...”
With one uneasy hand, he twitched a couple of half-hearted quote marks. “You know, if you want to look at it like that. A- a lot of people do, and I don’t… generally like? Those kinds of people. On YouTube. Or, um… anywhere, really. Not to be like, Old Man Yelling At Cloud about it, but it’s really pervasive, and I’ve seen way too much of it just this weekend.”
Having wandered to the end of such a plate of verbal spaghetti, Alan blinked, looked embarrassed, rubbed his sunburned nose. “I’m sorry, I don’t wanna lecture. You seem pretty smart, Mark. I’m not saying you’d fall for anything like that, but I’ve… I’ve seen it happen, okay?”
Mark hesitated. To some small and unsquashable part of his unhappy mind, Alan’s gentle advice felt like the most solid, inarguable sense he’d heard all weekend. He couldn’t have said why, and it didn’t feel like the why even mattered that much.
He was too weary, too deeply on his guard, too heavily under siege from a dozen directions, too desperate, but for a moment, it all went away. His mind cleared of the fear, the merciless noise,and he nearly found himself sitting up, laying his hands on the table, looking back into Alan’s tired, well-meaning eyes and saying, there’s a thing like a squid-ink soccer ball with eyes in my closet, and it talks to me, and it says it can help me save my mom.
He didn’t. But he almost, almost, did.
Some topics were conversation-starters. Some were conversation-enders. Some things, terrible and volatile, unbelievable and crazy-sounding and traitorous as they were, were more like universe-enders. If spoken, the known world- Mark’s known world, with all of its terrible borderline fragility, its pain and its promise, would just... cease to be.
The feeling, the threat of this severance, was too much. Mark nodded, forced a smile.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Anyway- look, thank you for your time. Really. I gotta go… enjoy the rest of the con. Nice meeting you, Alan.”
“Sure…” said Alan, uncertainly, as Mark hooked his backpack from the floor and bolted to his feet with nearly enough alacrity to knock his chair into the aisle. “You too. Good luck with-”
But Mark was already hurrying away.
*
Alan, left to himself at the long, empty table, watched Mark’s retreating back wind through the lobby and out of view. The thoughtful, vaguely worried look was jolted entirely off his face in the very next moment, as someone dropped into the seat directly across from him with enough jarring momentum to make the whole table lurch across the tiles, let out a long, exasperated sigh, reached over and started eating his fries.
After a first startled jump, neither the violent arrival or the fry-theft had much effect on Alan, who only put Mark’s card away in his back pocket, and said, “Hello, sir.”
“We’ve got an emergency, Alan. The web team have the vod from the talk ready to go up, but they say the audio’s out of sync.”
“W- I- it shouldn’t be.” If Mark had been there to watch, he would have been witness to an immediate and major change in Alan’s overall demeanour, as soon as the Captain had shown up. On paper, they were identical in terms of height and build, identical in appearance aside from the obvious difference of the Captain’s silver skin. The upper half of the Captain’s face- the mask- was identical to Alan’s, everything else the same right down to the colour of their hair and their eyes, although the Captain didn’t have grey hairs unless he felt like it, and the Captain’s eyes were bright and intense and sometimes caught the light in an odd, overly vivid way.
The biggest difference was in attitude. The Captain stood taller, moved quicker, spoke with curt, effortless fluency, an abrupt kind of grace in everything he said or did. With the Captain sitting across from him, Alan looked shorter, smaller, held himself with a perpetually tense, awkward deference. With Mark, he’d been thoughtful, ready to offer advice. With the Captain, he seemed immediately scattered, not so much defensive as defeated.
“I- I checked the whole thing. Are you sure you sent them the right fi-”
“Well, whatever you screwed up, just sort it out with them. I don’t need to know the details, okay?” The Captain stopped eating fries, as if he’d only just registered what he’d been putting in his mouth. He pulled a face. “Did you put mustard on these?”
“On… my fries, yeah, I did. Uh, I could get you some-”
“They’re cold.” The Captain poked around in the container for a moment, searching for mustard-less, untainted fry content, then gave up in disgust and pushed it away over the table. Alan only just caught it before it shot right off the edge, fielding it at the furthest reach of his arm like some Old-West bar patron catching a fast-slung finger of Scotch.
“Anyway, get on it.” The Captain pushed back his sleeve and tapped a few buttons on his comm device. It beeped urgently at him. “We’re supposed to be out of here in like an hour. Is the shuttle packed yet?”
“Uh, no,” said Alan, to the salt crystals scattered across the tabletop. “I was going to start after-”
“Start? I thought you’d be done this morning.”
“I- I couldn’t,” said Alan. “I didn’t have time, I had to- I had to set up for my talk.”
“Oh, right.” With a bored, somewhat petulant kind of emphasis, the Captain sat back, rolling his sleeve back down over his glove. “That thing. When is it, again?”
“Two hours ago,” said Alan.
He closed his laptop and put his notes and the rest of his fries on top of it, ready to go. Sensing a lack of movement from the other side of the table, he hazarded a look as he got to his feet and found that the Captain was staring at him with a very odd expression on his face. It was sort of blank, but there was panic in it, unmistakeable and rising, underneath.
He had seen the Captain panicking before, rarely enough, and almost always with very good cause, usually of the major-unexpected-catastrophe variety. He had never seen this look aimed directly at himself. He didn’t look annoyed, or impatient- just completely, genuinely caught off guard.
“What?” said the Captain.
“Two… hours ago?” repeated Alan. When the Captain said nothing, just continued to look at him as if something apocalyptic had happened, he started to get extremely nervous. For lack of anything else to say, he started, “I think it went pretty-”
The Captain made a sudden movement, tapping his hands together in a T-sign, cutting him off. “Wait, whoah-whoah-whoah, you’re sure?”
“Am I... sure my talk was two hours ago? I mean, yes?”
“No, because, that would have been at four PM, and it’s- six oh eight right now, so that would mean it’s… it happened, already, as in, it’s over, which-” The Captain broke off. “You’re really sure?”
“Sir, I- I was there.”
“But that would mean I missed it!”
Alan had no idea how to field this. The Captain did not tend to demonstrate a lot of unusual emotions in his presence, which was to say, he usually stuck with variations on the two most familiar ones, impatience and contempt. Certain things about the whole weekend had been… unusual, in general, and he really wasn’t sure what this weird display of… interest? Panic? Something, anyway, could possibly be tending to. He felt tired (and worried, still, somewhere at the back of his mind where Mark’s pale and hungry face rested uneasily) and confused. Rather than press the issue, he picked up his little tableaux of laptop and papers and fries and started trying to spot the nearest trash can across the emptying vista of the food court.
“It doesn’t matter, Captain. I’ll go get my stuff and get the shuttle packed. I’ve got the main web guy’s info, I’ll make sure he gets the right- I mean, I’ll fix the audio thing.”
“Alan, wait!”
Alan looked back. He watched, confused, as the Captain extricated himself from the table and caught up with him. That the Captain wanted to say something, was evident in his struggling face and the formless shapes his black-gloved hands made in the air, but all that came out in the end was,
“I- I… I’ll come with you.”
“Okay…?” When the Captain failed to start moving, Alan, who was painfully aware of getting in other people’s way and conscious that the two of them were blocking the whole aisle, took a couple of uncertain steps backwards and managed to spur him into following. He dumped the fries in the trash as they passed, heading for the elevators.
11 notes · View notes
Note
Hmmm, I'm not sure if this has been requested before so feel free to ignore this if it has. The brothers with a motherly and caring reader that always makes them breakfast, lunch bentos, and dinner, and is a master of textile work (sewing, knitting, etc.) but will beat up anyone who dares to test her patience.
Lucifer, who sometimes thinks coffee is an acceptable meal replacement, kinda needs someone like this in his life. At first he acted offended, all "don't coddle me. I am not a child. >:(" But quickly turned that frown upside down when he realised how much mc's kindness has benefitted everyone in the house. Including himself. He really appreciates no more arguments about cooking, and he also appreciates the only argument he hears about it these days is mc making sure he actually remembered to eat today. He always takes his packed bento box with him, the only member to never once forget his lunch at home. 
“How fast do ya think you could knit another one?” Is Mammon’s first question upon mc handing him a sweater they knitted. And regardless of their answer, he’s asking because he wants to own another so he can constantly show off to his brother’s at what mc made for him. Mammon always cleans his plate from mc’s cooking, swears up and down it is the best cooking he’s ever eaten, to which mc claims that it’s because they make it with love. He’s asking for seconds. Sometimes forgets his bento on purpose because mc always comes and offers to share theirs with him, meaning they get to have lunch together. mc has caught on and now packs extra in their own lunch. 
Leviathan, who already knows sewing tricks thanks to enjoying cosplay, learns a few other things from mc. When a fabric just isn’t cooperating, he’s calling them in for back up, and normally between the two of them, they manage to pull through. When mc offers to make him a bento box for lunch, presents them with his Ruri-chan bento box while on his knees. Yeah he doesn’t always go into RAD but he still needs a healthy nutritious lunch too, is what mc tells Lucifer, who shakes his head while watching mc shape Levi’s sandwiches into cute faces similar to his favourite anime characters. 
Satan proudly owns a knitted set by mc, that all have the matching themes of, you guessed it, cats! On cold winter days off he can be seen walking around with his cat beanie, gloves, sweater and socks. He also has a plain green set but he clearly likes his cat set more. I can also see him asking for mc to teach him how to knit so he can eventually knit them a set. But he’s probably terrible at it at first and nearly ends up throwing the knitting needles through the wall due to not understanding how mc can just make it look so effortless. 
“I can patch that up for you!” Is how Asmodeus finds out about mc’s sewing talents, especially their efficiency under pressure. He needed his outfit ready by 8 and they had fixed ten minutes before. He’s very grateful for everything they do, not just fixing up outfits, but all the cooking too, he always loudly thanks mc for their delicious food before eating or when they give him a homemade bento. But he also worries that they might not be taking enough time to take care of themselves, so he offers pretty frequently for them to come do something with him to relax. Spa days, shopping trips, brunches, he’s happy to offer as long as they come with him. 
Mc cooks for Beelzebub, and he’s ready to defend them in every scenario. No but in all seriousness, he is so grateful. He will eat any dish they put in front of him, he will always say it’s delicious and clean his plate, as well as everybody else’s, after he makes sure mc has eaten something of course. He will always accept their bento lunches, and will send them crying stickers if he forgets his. “Mc I forgot my bento, I’m sorry.” Apologies to them because he feels terrible that all their hard work cooking for him was for nothing, only to be pleasantly surprised when they do out of their way to bring him theirs. He takes them out for dinner as thanks. He also really loves the sweaters mc knits for him, says they feel comfy and wears them all the time. 
Belphegor gets a handmade cow plushie made by mc for his birthday, to which he laughs dryly at. But for some reason, every now and then it makes it into his bed, along side his favourite pillow. Swears up and down he must’ve just accidentally thrown it into his bed. That it’s a strange coincidence he’s ended up hugging it. Not that he treasures a silly little plushie mc made for him as a joke. Yes he forgets his bento, yes sometimes he doesn’t even wake up in time for lunch and it stays in the fridge the whole day. But he is furious if anyone else even touches the bento mc made for him. Not even Beel is safe. 
111 notes · View notes
tenebraevesper · 3 months
Text
Five Nights at Freddy's: Nothing Remains, Night 20: Unfixable
Tumblr media
''Welcome my friend to a night in our circus world. We're looking for a technician and you're just the guy we've heard of. We're held away by wiring, now we're wanting out. Can you shock us? Can you tame us? But we want your body now! Now behave, for the voices in the halls will try to eat you up alive. So before the show begins, please don't hold against our sins, 'cause by dawn you'll be crumbling in your skin! We are the tortured! We're not your friends! So long as we're not visible, we are unfixable! We are the curses, crumbled inside! Look left or right, we're unthinkable! Our fate is now unfixable!''
– Unfixable by DAGames (Five Nights at Freddy's: Sister Location)
xXxXxXx
Sam sighed, leaning her head against the table. She was completely exhausted, but she still had to get her shift done. Luckily, aside from some complaints about the animatronics staring at empty spaces, they didn't seem to be malfunctioning. It didn't take her long to figure out what the animatronics were staring at either.
''I think that we should cut the night short,'' Springtrap told Sam, drawing her attention. ''I know that we agreed to stay here much longer in case the Drawkills show up, but after what happened today, I feel that it would be better for you to just go home once your shift is done.''
''Sure, but…'' Sam muttered reluctantly, yawning.
''If you want, we could stay here and keep an eye on the location,'' Michael interrupted her. ''After all, I used to work at Freddy's as a night guard, and I'm sure that Sammy and Elizabeth won't mind staying here.''
Sam smiled tiredly and looked up to see Sammy and Elizabeth running from one side of the room to the other, with the animatronics watching the two, moving their heads left and right and vice versa as if they were at a tennis match. Both Sammy and Elizabeth seemed to be quite enjoying their little game, weaving between tables and peeking out of their hiding spots to see if they were still being watched by the animatronics. Sam then turned back to Michael and Springtrap, who were sitting across her, both looking a bit worried.
''I'm fine with that,'' Sam replied, narrowing her eyes. ''However, I'd still rather go along with what we had planned, regardless of what had happened.''
''I know, but after seeing you get stabbed and tortured, I believe that it would be better for you to take more time to recover,'' Springtrap replied, his eyes glowing in a faint purple. ''Tell me, does your chest still hurt?''
''It feels sore,'' Sam admitted reluctantly. While she had managed to get some rest, she was still in a state of stupor, having to put a lot of effort into focusing on her surroundings and the people she was talking to. She was well aware that she was in no shape to confront the Drawkills in case they appeared. She took a deep breath, leaning against the seat, and noticed Elizabeth and Sammy approaching them. ''Nevertheless, it's not like this is the first time I had to experience the sensation of death, as something similar happened when I got accidentally injected with remnant. I met the other children, who basically told me that I should die so they could prove their point, that point being that William was a danger to me. They were quite frustrated when I refused to go along with it, especially since I had the chance to return.''
''That's awful-'' Michael said, only to get interrupted by Elizabeth.
''That's just plain crazy!'' she exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention. There was a look of indignation on her expression. ''Why would they want to do that to you?!''
''I guess that, in their head, the end justifies the means,'' Sammy said, turning to Sam as he and Elizabeth sat next to her. ''If it didn't, they wouldn't have gone for you. No offense, but you basically made yourself a target for them.''
''None taken,'' Sam replied. ''I am aware that I had unintentionally made myself their target simply by caring about your father, and I can live with that. However, what frustrates me is that they are simply refusing to move on. I mean, this is no longer an issue they need to deal with, as I had taken over it and I believe that I'm handling the situation quite well.''
''That may be true, but you're not handling the situation the way they want,'' Michael told her. ''Of course, it's not like their ideas ever worked.''
''Exactly,'' Sam said, adding in a softer tone, ''Speaking of which, have you ever found Phone Guy? He did say to check the heads in the back room.''
''Unfortunately, not,'' Michael replied, shaking his head. ''Although, I'm not surprised. Fazbear Entertainment had probably cleaned everything and disposed of the body long before I had arrived. However, I'm not sure whether they considered his death another tragedy to add to their record or just collateral damage they had to hide. Considering how they treated all of their employees, I'd assume that it's the latter.''
''I guess that I should make sure that I won't suffer from the same treatment,'' Sam said, glancing at the animatronics. She felt chills crawling down her spine when she realized that they were now staring at their table. She tried to ignore them and glanced at Springtrap, who was unusually quiet the whole time, having a somber look on his expression, his head lowered. ''Will, what's wrong?''
''Honestly, I don't think that really anything of that matters,'' Springtrap said in a crestfallen tone. ''It doesn't change the fact that I'm responsible for you getting hurt. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be in this situation.''
''William, it's not your fault for what happened to me, unless you want to say that you showing care for me was the wrong thing to do,'' Sam told him in a stern tone, with Springtrap looking a little anxious. ''I agree that, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be in this situation, and honestly, I wouldn't change anything about it. You haven't done anything over the past few weeks to warrant such reaction and no, I'm not going to count what happened before you came here, as you already got punished for that. I know that I'm just repeating myself here, but that kid acted less like someone who was on a mission to protect me and more like someone who was angry that their favorite toy had been taken away and that the person who got it wouldn't give it back, so they've been trying to come up with some kind of excuse why they deserve that toy.''
''I assume that one of those excuses included them hurting you and then saying it was the old man's fault that you got stabbed,'' Michael said, crossing his arms as he briefly glanced at Springtrap. At first, he looked troubled, but then his eyes flared up purple as he remembered the event, with the feeling of anger washing over him. ''Nevertheless, it was still disturbing to see you holding that knife in your hand.''
Springtrap was startled, remaining silent for a moment. Michael rose an eyebrow, figuring that his father was trying to come up with another nonsensical excuse or explanation, only to be surprised when he shook his head.
''I admit, I actually wanted to murder the kid at that point, even though they were already dead. They had hurt Sam, and honestly, I didn't really care about the consequences,'' Springtrap said in a steady and serious tone. He then added in a more quiet tone, ''I'm sorry you had to see me like that.'' He sighed. ''I kind of expected for you to leave after that…''
''Well, you did explain to us what the hell had happened,'' Michael replied. ''Frankly, I would've wanted to hurt that little bastard as well for what they did to Sam.''
He fell silent, noticing Sam smiling at him and nodded. Even though he hated his father, he couldn't deny that the kid would've had it coming for almost murdering Sam. Even though her physical body hadn't been harmed, she still went through quite a horrible ordeal and it was surprising that she wasn't a broken mess because of that. He was aware that she was much tougher than people gave her credit for and knew well what she was getting herself into, being willing to still carry on with this ordeal.
''Henry might decide to pay you a visit because of what had happened,'' Michael added. Springtrap just nodded, having already expected this to happen as he was sure that Henry wouldn't let this go without lecturing him.
''Don't worry, I can deal with him,'' he replied.
There was a moment of awkward silence, with all of the table's occupants trying to figure out how to carry on the conversation without sounding strained or hostile. Springtrap was well aware that Michael, Sammy and Elizabeth were only tolerating his presence because of Sam and Michael agreeing with him on the kid's treatment was something he probably didn't want to admit. Nevertheless, he was quite happy that they actually tried to talk to him, awkward as the conversation was, instead of giving him the cold shoulder and completely ignoring him. Considering how much issues he had at maintaining a healthy relationship and admitting his mistakes, this was a huge step in the right direction and frankly, he was quite relieved about it.
''There is something interesting to note, though,'' Sam suddenly said. ''Despite all denial, by deciding to harm me, the kid had essentially shown that they are aware that William actually cares about me.''
''Not that they would ever admit it,'' Michael added. ''I mean, they're obviously not the type of person who would listen to logical reasoning.''
''I say that they're a lost case.'' Elizabeth crossed her arms, leaning back on her seat. ''If they continue like this, it will only get worse.''
''They are going to eventually lose their mind,'' Sammy added, him and Elizabeth exchanging grim looks. Both of them were well aware of how it felt to give into your desire for blood and torture or be completely obsessed with revenge, as they went through the same; Elizabeth having her mind corrupted by a murderous animatronic AI and Sammy torturing Michael for causing his death. Neither of them were proud of what they had done and they wanted to move on from their past. He and Elizabeth glanced at Sam, Springtrap and Michael, who gave them a sympathetic look, already knowing what was going through their head. ''I'm afraid of what is going to happen once they do. Lizzy's right, this can only get worse.''
''We won't let it happen,'' Sam replied in a determined tone. Sammy nodded, but he was still a bit anxious. ''Listen, I know that you are worried about me, but I'm not going down without a fight. I will be careful, but I'm not going to let that kid tell me whom I should trust. Also, I noticed that the kid didn't seem to like you guys either.''
''Yeah, they don't,'' Elizabeth said, her green eyes sparking up as she gave Sam a curious look. ''But, you do like us, right?''
''I do,'' Sam replied. ''I mean, I enjoy talking to you and you guys are treating me nicely-''
''Awesome!'' Elizabeth interrupted her, giving her a mischievous grin. ''So, does this mean that you won't mind if I call you my older sister?''
Sam was stunned, not really sure how to respond to her request. Springtrap and Sammy were also surprised, while Michael just groaned as he remembered the argument they had yesterday.
''Elizabeth, I had already told you that it would be inappropriate to ask Sam that,'' Michael told her. ''You know, there is something called tact.''
''Yeah, and you had plenty of tact to spare whenever you played pranks on Sammy,'' Elizabeth replied snappily. Michael went quiet, albeit still giving her an irritated look, with Elizabeth smiling. ''Besides, Daddy had already said that Sam's like a daughter to him and she was okay with it.''
Springtrap looked rather uncomfortable, not wanting to be dragged into this argument. He had already heard enough complaints from Emma and Henry. Elizabeth, on the other hand, gleefully ignored everyone's reactions.
''Not to mention, she is still a better older sibling than you are,'' she sneered.
''I have to agree with Lizzy here,'' Sammy added, with Michael giving him a bewildered look. He then sighed.
''Why me?'' he muttered.
''Well, if you weren't such a jerk towards me, I would have defended you,'' Sammy replied. Michael glanced at him, a look of regret on his expression.
''You know, guys, I actually don't mind you acting as if you were my siblings,'' Sam said, drawing their attention. She shrugged. ''Considering how I'm an only child, it would be interesting to see whether this relationship is going to work out.''
''Trust me, living with siblings is a nightmare,'' Michael told her.
''Of course it's a nightmare, since we have to live with you,'' Elizabeth told him, with Sammy nodding in agreement.
''You shouldn't be the one to talk,'' Michael told Elizabeth, his eyes narrowing. ''Didn't those animatronics kick you out because you were too bossy?''
''I think that the word you're searching for is 'self-sufficient', dummy,'' Elizabeth replied. Michael snorted.
''No, I don't think so,'' he replied. Elizabeth just glared at him as she heard voices from her past echoing in her head. Despite trying to ignore them, she could still remember the conversation she had with the other animatronics that were part of Ennard.
''You are crowding us.''
''Be quiet.''
''You can't tell us what to do anymore.''
''Yes, I can. You will do everything that I tell you to do.''
''We outnumber you.''
''That doesn't matter, dummy.''
''We found a way to eject you.''
''You would be lost without me.''
''Ha ha! Say goodbye to our friend!''
''I can put myself back together.''
''It doesn't matter, since I was still fine being on my own,'' Elizabeth said, crossing her arms. She smiled. ''Besides, I remember you getting quite scared when you saw me sitting in that room.''
''I hope that you enjoyed the shock therapy, you needed it,'' Michael replied dryly, with Elizabeth suddenly standing up on her seat, slamming her hands on the table.
''You know that it hurt!'' she yelled at him.
''It also hurt when I got scooped, but did I complain?'' Michael replied.
''Actually, you did,'' Elizabeth replied. ''A lot, I might add.''
''Well, who wouldn't?'' Michael continued. ''You carved me out like a pumpkin!''
''I told you that you wouldn't die,'' Elizabeth protested.
''Lizzy, I ended up looking like a decaying corpse!'' Michael snapped. ''I think that death would've been more preferable.''
''Well, you got your wish granted,'' Elizabeth replied, with Michael rolling his eyes. Sam meanwhile glanced at Sammy, who observed the whole argument looking rather unconcerned.
''Do they often argue like this?'' she asked.
''It used to be worse,'' Sammy replied, shrugging. He then added cheerfully, ''Welcome to the Afton family.''
Sam smiled, well aware of the madness she was getting herself into. Nevertheless, she didn't really care and was actually enjoying herself. She glanced at Springtrap who, while listening to the conversation, was staring at the table, looking rather uncomfortable.
''Will?'' He looked up, a bit startled. It didn't help that Sammy, Michael and Elizabeth, who snapped out of their argument, were also staring at him expectantly. ''What's wrong?''
''Honestly, I'm not sure whether I should be happy to be able to talk to you again, or mortified for what I had put you through,'' he admitted dejectedly.
''Try a mix of both, it's less of a headache,'' Elizabeth told him dryly. Michael and Sammy chuckled, while Sam just had an amused look on her expression. Springtrap, on the other hand, looked like he just wanted to disappear.
Despite all of their arguments, when it came to their father, they would waste no time teaming up and turning against him, especially considering how much he deserved it. Nevertheless, despite the awkwardness and tension, the conversation certainly went better than expected. Sam knew that the three could've done much worse, but they kept things, aside from some snide remarks, relatively civil. She glanced at Springtrap and noticing a look of guilt on his expression. She knew that he was regretting what he had done, but it seemed that the really wasn't anything he could do to atone for his past.
''Believe me, I am sorry for what I had put you through,'' Springtrap suddenly said in a more resolute tone, his eyes flaring up purple. Michael, Sammy and Elizabeth didn't look convinced, but decided to hear him out. Sam, on the other hand, was aware that he was completely honest about it his feelings. ''I wish that there was a way to change the past and I understand that you hate me. I know that you don't trust me and that you will never forgive me, and I won't ask you forgiveness.'' He sighed, trying to ignore the anxiety he felt. ''Still, I hoped that our relationship isn't completely unfixable.''
''What?!''
Michael, Sammy and Elizabeth gave him an affronted look, with Springtrap lowering his head, aware that this was the wrong thing to say and he understood why they reacted like this. Nevertheless, he had enough of being silent. He frowned, turning back to them with a determined look on his expression.
''I know that what I'm asking for is something you would never accept, and I don't blame you for refusing,'' he told them. ''After all, I had already lost you forever the moment I decided to put you through all that pain and abuse. Nevertheless, I felt that, if I hadn't said anything, that I would lose you again.''
''What do you mean?'' Michael asked.
''Michael, despite everything, I'm really glad that I was given the chance to talk to you and apologize for what I had done,'' Springtrap replied, then turned to Elizabeth and Sammy. ''I understand that you don't really believe that I want to become a better person, and I don't mind. Honestly, I don't trust myself either and you had already seen why.'' He tilted his head, smiling awkwardly. ''I'm still amazed that you're willing talk to me.''
''Don't worry, Daddy, you aren't the only one who is amazed that we're talking to you,'' Elizabeth said in a snarky tone.
''You know, Dad, you should've thought more about the consequences of your actions,'' Sammy added, glaring at him. ''Although, I guess that it's a good thing that you actually realized just how awful you were, both as a person and as a father.''
''If there's anything I could do to fix this situation-'' Springtrap started, only to get cut off by Michael.
''No, you can't,'' he said curtly, noticing the look of disappointment and regret his father gave him. Michael then exchanged glances with Elizabeth and Sammy, who nodded. ''Nevertheless, if you want to talk to us, we will be here. We had already told you that we'll be staying, hadn't we?''
''Really?'' Springtrap's eyes flared up, with him giving the three a hopeful look. ''Thank you, I-!''
''Don't get ahead of yourself, Father,'' Michael warned him. ''We decided to give you a chance, but if you mess up, we are gone for good and you won't have anyone to blame but yourself for, as you put it, losing us again.''
''I understand,'' Springtrap said. Despite his serious demeanor, he was incredibly relieved and even excited that Michael, Elizabeth and Sammy had actually agreed to give him a chance. He knew that this chance was more than he even deserved. ''I will make sure that you won't regret it.''
''Well, it's not the first time you broke a promise, so we don't expect much from you,'' Michael told him.
''I know,'' Springtrap muttered, resolving to work harder on fixing his relationship with his children. I cannot allow myself to make another mistake. He sighed, leaning back and glancing at the stage, noticing that the animatronics were still staring at them. He frowned.''Seriously, we need to figure out what's wrong with them. Not only do they seem to be self-aware, but are also able to either see you or sense your presence. Not to mention, they've been giving me weird looks as well, as if they don't know that I'm a spirit trapped inside an animatronic suit…''
''If you ask me, you should just leave them alone,'' Michael told him after briefly glancing at the animatronics. ''Every time you get your hands on an animatronic, you end up causing some kind of disaster.''
''I know, but-'' Springtrap said, only to get interrupted by Sam.
''No offense, Mike, but I don't think that we should leave those animatronics alone,'' she said. ''They have no reason to be able to sense or see spirits, since they're not haunted nor injected with remnant. Also, as Will pointed out, they were wary of his presence as well.''
''If you say so,'' Michael said, shrugging. ''At least they're not trying to kill you by stuffing you into a suit.''
''I wouldn't mind if they did that, because at least I'd know what I'm dealing with,'' Sam replied. ''Although, now that I think about it, they weren't the only ones who reacted to a presence of spirit, right Sammy?''
''Um, yeah… Plushtrap had chased me when I visited you yesterday,'' Sammy said, shuddering at the memory. ''He even managed to bite me, but the injuries had vanished.''
''Really? Why didn't you tell me about it?'' Springtrap asked. Sammy gave him an irritated look.
''I had other things on mind, or have you already forgotten about it?'' he said. Springtrap shook his head, feeling sorry for his son.
''Do you want to talk about it?'' Sam asked.
''I don't think that there is really much to talk about,'' Sammy replied. ''When I appeared in that room, I got scared by Nightmare Fredbear and then Plushtrap started to chase me.''
''Okay, but it still shouldn't be possible for Plushtrap to be able to hurt you,'' Springtrap told him, with Sammy shrugging. He wasn't really sure how to explain what happened to him.
''Maybe you being afraid had caused you to accidentally create a replica of the room and invited Plushtrap into it?'' Elizabeth suggested, with everyone giving her confused looks. ''I mean, we know that this works with Sam.''
''Yeah, but unlike Plushtrap, Sam isn't a soulless animatronic,'' Michael told her, only to give his father a suspicious look. ''On the other hand, none of us really know what exactly you had done to those animatronics.''
''Honestly, I don't know either,'' Springtrap admitted, a look of guilt on his expression. ''I shouldn't have ever tried to mess with souls, but it's too late now.''
''Maybe things aren't as complicated as we think,'' Sam said, drawing everyone's attention. ''I mean, Will had also managed to sense Sammy's presence, so Lizzy might be right about her theory.''
''You're right,'' Springtrap nodded, remembering the event. He then frowned, with something about the situation bothering him, even though he wasn't sure what exactly it was. ''However, I don't think that explains everything. There has to be more to it.''
xXx
''I assume that this is it,'' Drawkill Chica muttered as they reached the end of the road, quickly rushing past the last house on the street and into the woods behind it. ''We managed to get through one part of the town and we still haven't found anything.''
''The Boss won't be happy,'' Drawkill Foxy said bitterly, leaning against a tree.
''Honestly, I don't give a damn about him,'' Drawkill Bonnie replied being quite irritated. He crossed his arms. ''This search is pointless.''
''I had tried to argue with Connor about us searching for Afton and his friend wouldn't be efficient and that we should change tactics, but he refused to listen to reason,'' Drawkill Freddy told them, then reached for the communicator that was embedded in the back of his head, confirming that it was turned off and that they had complete privacy. ''Considering how we all agree that our creator has several screws loose and isn't worth trying to reason with, we need to find a way out of this situation.''
''What should we do?'' Drawkill Chica asked him.
''For starters, we need to disable all of the devices Connor had implanted inside us that give him full control over us,'' Drawkill Freddy told her. ''The communication device, the device that disables our AI and messes with our system… All of that needs to go if we want to be free from him. If we go against him now, he's going to fry our CPUs and we'd be unable to do anything against him. Hell, he might as well try to dismantle us and make another animatronic who would blindly obey his commands without the need of a distortion device.''
''How are we supposed to do that?'' Drawkill Bonnie asked as he sat down on the ground. ''Connor did tell us how to program the animatronics at Ricky's to be under his control, but he never told us how to remove those devices that were planted inside us. Obviously, he'd have a good reason for that, but honestly, I don't want to sit here fearing that my handsome self would end up having the functionality of a calculator once Connor decides that doesn't need us anymore. Or, we might just get turned into pieces of scrap metal; I'm not sure which one is worse.''
''Trust me, Bonnie, no one is going to be turned into scrap metal,'' Drawkill Freddy replied. ''Connor may-''
He suddenly cut himself off when he heard the door at the nearby house opening. He and the other Drawkills quickly hid behind the trees and the bushes, quickly closing their eyes so the bright light they was emitting wouldn't give away their position, as it was quite dark. A moment later, Drawkill Freddy, whose eyes were now dimmed, took the chance to briefly glance at the porch, noticing a woman looking around. She had a smartphone in her hand, using the flashlight function as a source of light and was probably searching for them.
Drawkill Freddy heard Drawkill Foxy growling and noticed the latter raising his sickle and creating scraping marks on the wood with his sharp claws, looking ready to lunge at the woman. He shook his head, gesturing to him to calm down, as they couldn't give away their position.
''Sam? Afton?''
They heard the woman suddenly call out and exchanged look of pure shock. However, they remained quiet, listening to the woman going down the steps on the porch and noticing the light being shined into the woods.
''Hello? Sam? Afton? Seriously, this is not funny!''
Drawkill Freddy had to note that the woman sounded quite angry. There was something in her voice, something that gave him the impression that she wasn't someone people would want to annoy.
''I could've sworn I heard someone walking past,'' the woman added, now in a more quiet and cautious tone. A moment later, the light vanished, with Drawkill Freddy looking back, realizing that the woman went back inside the house.
''Have you heard that?'' Drawkill Chica asked.
''Aye, and so did half of the neighborhood,'' Drawkill Foxy replied, with Drawkill Chica smacking him upside the head. His eyes glowed as he glared at her, growling.
''It seems that William Afton and the girl he was with, Sam, live at this house,'' Drawkill Freddy said. ''I mean, the woman did look rather familiar, so it can be assumed that she was either her mother or her older sister.''
''I don't think that it matters who that woman is, but that Afton lives here,'' Drawkill Chica replied. ''We have finally found him!''
''Shhh, keep quiet,'' Drawkill Freddy hissed. ''Do you want her to come out again?''
Drawkill Chica crossed her arms, giving him an annoyed look, but didn't reply. Frankly, she was just happy that their search was finally over.
''So, what are we going to do now?'' Drawkill Foxy asked eagerly. ''I assume that we are going to tell Connor about it. Or, should we go inside and wait for Afton and Sam to arrive? After all, that woman seemed to have been waiting for them.''
''No.''
Drawkill Foxy and Drawkill Chica stared at Drawkill Freddy with dumbfounded looks on their expressions.
''Say, what?''
''What do you mean, no?'' Drawkill Chica grew agitated. ''We've been searching for those two for days and now you're saying that we should do nothing?!''
''Calm down!'' Drawkill Freddy growled in a hushed tone, silencing Drawkill Chica by closing her beak. ''I'm not saying that we won't do anything, but honestly, I don't think that we should tell Connor about what we have found out.''
''Why?'' Drawkill Foxy asked.
''It's a bit complicated to explain, but I'm currently working on something,'' Drawkill Freddy told him. ''Nevertheless, I believe that it would be better if we keep this a secret from Connor, at least for a while.''
''So, does this mean that we are going to continue walking through the town, acting as if we don't know where they are?'' Drawkill Chica groaned when Drawkill Freddy nodded. ''I knew that this was too good to be true. There always has to be a catch.''
''Don't worry, it won't be for too long,'' Drawkill Freddy told her, only for him, Drawkill Chica and Drawkill Foxy to notice Drawkill Bonnie walking towards them, holding a red ribbon in his hand. ''Where have you been?''
''While you were busy arguing, I have found this,'' Drawkill Bonnie said as he held up the ribbon. ''There are more of those, all of them tied to the branches. It seems as if someone used them as markers.''
Drawkill Freddy took the ribbon and then glanced at the porch. He grinned, turning back to his companions.
''I believe that we should let them know that we were here, just to mess with their mind,'' he said, with the other Drawkills giving him a look of approval. ''Let's go.''
One by one, the Drawkills sneaked past the house and on the street, quickly leaving. Drawkill Freddy, however, cautiously stepped towards the porch and tied the ribbon around the guardrail. He then quickly left, hoping that the woman hadn't seen him. A few moments later, he joined the other Drawkills on the open street, with them trying keeping an eye on the other houses, making sure that none of the residents would notice them. Finally, they had managed to find an alleyway that, while not perfect, gave them enough cover.
''So, we really aren't going to tell Connor anything?'' Drawkill Bonnie asked Drawkill Freddy. ''Or have you forgotten what had happened the last time we went back empty-handed?''
''I don't think that we should worry about him,'' Drawkill Freddy told him grimly. ''Connor had already found another victim to occupy him.''
Links:
#Previous Chapter
#Current Chapter
#Next Chapter
#Five Nights at Freddy's: The Untold Story (Masterlist)
5 notes · View notes
septembersghost · 1 year
Note
Jess, honey, hey! How are you?? I'm so happy you're back!!! ❤️
Your post about Kim popped up and I'm gonna say that... yeah. Actually the longer time passes, the less right the final episodes sit with me. I mean they TRIED to give us the most hopeful possible ending, and the first time I watched it seemed really good, but now I just don't know. It truly seems like Kim became the ghost of her former self, like she is gone and I don't know if she's ever coming back. I'm happy that both her and Jimmy are alive and, who knows, maybe they have a shot at rebuilding their relationship, maybe Kim will become a lawyer once again, maybe she'll find herself and shine in her true light, but we will never know. I just want her to come back. I just want her to become brilliant and dedicated and passionate and larger than life again, she's honestly one of my two MOST beloveds female characters EVER, and thinking about her arc and how she appeared in Waterworks especially makes me sad.
Which also makes me think (I'm sorry for going off-topic here) final seasons and specifically the endings are hard, and the more we love the story, the more we love and connect with the characters, the harder those endings hit and the more difficult it is for them to be truly satisfying. I got into one show a few months back (as in podcast), and I fell in love with it so much and especially fell in love with two main characters who are also in love with each other. They became my number one favorite OTP (kid you not, even more than Kim and Jimmy, which surprised me.) I'm close to the final season and the anxiety levels I have about this and the actual finale are going through the roof. I've never actually talked about this, but I do worry. What if they destroy my boys? What if the whole thing ends up in a big tragedy and that is it? What if it's never gonna be okay? What if the final episodes are just... bad? It's been STELLAR so far but I know how shows in their final seasons can get.
Like, so far I can name only two shows whose finales really, fully satisfied me, and the others were either just plain awful, or sort of okay-ish, but I have my issues with them (BCS is the latter.)
Anyway, sorry for this rant and I would really love to hear your thoughts about Kim (that is, when your wrist is doing okay and fully healed.) Btw, you can call me Ellie!
ELLIE!!! omg it makes me so happy to be able to use your name because i have been too shy ALL these many months to ask what you like to be called?! HI! ILU!!! and i always love your long messages, rants or otherwise! my hand/wrist are healing a bit and not as painful, though i'm still trying to be careful, thank you for asking! <3
i have had many emotionally overwrought private discussions about kim and the way she was ultimately treated, and it's a couple of mutuals who have had me wanting to mull it over and work through it a bit more recently too, because they've expressed some thoughtful criticisms that have hit me hard.
it's curious, because i think we maybe had a bit of an emotionally shell-shocked reaction to the amount of things they threw at us in S6B, and while i did express some feelings of hurt/being disconcerted at the time, it has also gotten worse for me the further we've gotten from the show. they tried, but they also kind of...didn't?...and it leaves us in this odd liminal space where it feels like they 1. were painted into a corner because of brba and could not find a creative way around that; 2. they forgot the key principles that the show was built upon because they, at that last hour, prioritized plot over character; 3. they wanted to have their cake and eat it too by serving us both wrenching tragedy and some sense of hope, so ended up with a lukewarm mix of both while not entirely serving either.
i'm going to quote @boboodenkirk because she wrote such astute replies that i don't think i can phrase it better, i hope she doesn't mind (bold is mine): "as for me i guess at first i felt such need for comfort from the show, that i just tried so hard to find the good and forget the bad about 6b. i liked the ending at first because from 609 on i'd been feeling like every new ep was…painful for pain's sake. the breakup was so messy and rushed, 611 to me felt like "propaganda" trying to convince you jimmy's a monster, 612 was heartbreaking, so i guess 613 at first felt like breathing again. but then i look back at it from a "safer" distance. and i realized that there were to many things that just seemed rushed, forced and contradictory to me. and as you said, as time passes, the feeling of disappointment just gets more and more intrusive. maybe i'll try and voice them? you've got a break up that somehow doesn't sit well with me, maybe because it was too abrupt, maybe because parts of the script in 609 just seemed a bit… melodramatic. but i could accept it, i guess, if that was kim running away from herself as fast as she could…but the divorce scene? that is angst p*rn ffs. why would she stick around? why would he "become saul" so quickly? i know this is my personal taste, but still…it feels different and worse. which brings me to the characters arcs being suddenly dictated by the plot and not vice versa. after the messy and rushed breakup (followed by a divorce scene that just seemed a bit sadistic), you've got them trying and trying to paint jimmy as THE villain. don't get me wrong, saul is awful and did plenty wrong, but this universe was never about balancing morality and choices with the justice system. it was about balancing those choices with yourself those you love, and those you hurt. in my eyes, they went on a mission to demonize jimmy so you'd feel okay with him being 86 years in prison. but i don't. the rampage he goes into after kim's phonecall makes absolutely no sense to me, because that's not him. they made him worse and worse and i think it was just so that his final good deed would look "cooler". while kim? kim annihilated herself. and 612 is another perfect example of pain for pain's sake. and instead of, dunno, having her trying to figure out how much she's """responsible""" for jimmy's becoming the worst version of himself (which is something i'd have loved to see) and dealing with guilt, vince said hey!!! let's make her bf a misogynistic asshole but somehow funny!!! let's turn doubtful consensual sex into a meme!!! and, eventually, she almost felt like a means to an end. she was there so jimmy could "repent", but where was the depth of her new storyline? you can't show that level of complete and utter self loathing and sabotage and think that "yeah, but see? she's volunteering at a legal aid center now" will somehow be the right answer to all of the deep questions her annihilation raised." <- i legitimately feel like she plucked this from my brain.
one of my biggest problems was, and continues to be, the way they very quickly tore the characters apart and then tore them down, in a way that vilified one and utterly destroyed another, for...misery? to prove a point about morality? part of the strength and even genius of these shows was that they never moralized AT us, they were so brilliant and intelligent and challenged us without talking down to us in regards to the justice system, in regards to human failings, in the deep, murky gray of destructive choices and hurt/harm and the interplay of that with empathetic connection, and how those terrible actions and downfalls happened, and what the legacy left in the wake of that was. where the humanity could possibly remain. how "justice" doesn't necessarily lie in a system, and isn't equated to revenge. how certain amends can never be made, but where the decisions lie within that tragedy, and what one can do (if anything) to change, to look at those shifting sands and make something of them. it's why the end of breaking bad works so well - there is no absolution for anyone, but there is the heavy consequence and the hope of slowly building something else.
they were aiming for that in a way with bcs, but it didn't quite get there. all of us know logically that hope is absent in those 86 years, but we keep trying to convince ourselves it's there and a release is possible. we get hardly anything with kim because she is utterly stripped of her agency and her strength and she barely speaks. (as i've said, it's beyond my understanding why kim doesn't even get a flashback when she is literally the center for jimmy. we get those scenes between all the main men that verge on the cynical and yet...nothing with her to provide some realized meaning? really?) which is what makes her depressingly feel like a means to an end - they built up this incredible, empowering female character only to CRUSH her, force her to annihilate herself and run from everything she was, surrender her agency (which was the key to her character's existence), and never return any of her power to her. she's left to her silence and her paralyzed inability to decide anything and then to jimmy's whims - even though what jimmy conclusively does is for her and a kind of reclamation, she has no say in the matter, no ability to affect it. she's barely recognizable, but in a way that doesn't work for me. it just...it makes me ache a bit that such a brilliant, wonderful, complex female character was diminished in such a staggering way. that she's basically a plot device, when she was NEVER that. her existence boils down to being the catalyst, abandoning jimmy to force him into the final descent of becoming saul, and then having no power or arc of her own to lead to the ending. she deserved to be more than a ghost. she deserved to be an active participant, like she always was. and i can't get over the fact that it feels like a uniquely female punishment, to silence and make her smaller the way that they did.
It truly seems like Kim became the ghost of her former self, like she is gone and I don't know if she's ever coming back. I'm happy that both her and Jimmy are alive and, who knows, maybe they have a shot at rebuilding their relationship, maybe Kim will become a lawyer once again, maybe she'll find herself and shine in her true light, but we will never know. I just want her to come back. I just want her to become brilliant and dedicated and passionate and larger than life again, she's honestly one of my two MOST beloveds female characters EVER, and thinking about her arc and how she appeared in Waterworks especially makes me sad. <- you also could've taken this directly from my thoughts. :(
endings ARE very hard, no doubt! and i have immense respect and regard for vince and peter and these actors and this creative team, and deep, abiding love for this show, which is another thing that's made it hard to criticize. it's not a violent shock and horrific wound in the way certain other endings have been (you KNOW what i'm referring to). it's difficult to get a story to a right and fulfilling conclusion - i can think of a handful of shows that managed it and all are shining little exceptions to the rule (ironically, i still maintain brba is undoubtedly one). far more often, they're either disappointing, saddening, or utterly ruinous. it's challenging to get them just right, and maybe it's nearly impossible to satisfy everyone when our connections to stories are so subjective. sometimes we're forced to accept sort of okay-ish because at least it's better than irreconcilable pain and destruction, but i feel like we still have the right to criticize things that don't ultimately sit well with us. it's been harder for me to process with bcs because i did trust peter and vince so much and it was hard to realize how let down i felt, and because i just wanted to cling to the comfort i got from the show and the way i loved it, but the more i've stayed quiet, the more discomfited i've been and that hurt has festered a bit.
the more we love and connect with the characters, the harder those endings hit and the more difficult it is for them to be truly satisfying. agreed.
never apologize for your thoughts and rants! tbh i could talk about kim forever, and despite what happened, it doesn't take away how vitally important she is to me. i truly hope your show ends well and is satisfying and doesn't take anything away from the characters you love. let me know!!! *hugs you tight* 💙💙💙
7 notes · View notes
teecupangel · 1 year
Text
tag people you want to get to know better
tagged by @concerned-astronomer :)
Three Ships: (I... don't even know how I can pick 3 so I'll just pick the 3 most recent XD)
1. Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad x Desmond Miles (Assassin's Creed)
My current OTP. Can't really be sure how they became my OTP but I just love writing them. The fact that they're both morally ambiguous (especially Altaïr during his AC1 days) makes it fun to think of different scenarios to throw them in. Definitely have the 'I'll kill for you' and 'I'll destroy the world/timeline to save you' vibes which I'm weak for. Also, the fact that they're centuries apart means I could easily add in time-travel fix-its which I'm weak for as well and the Bleeding Effect adds a touch of 'to be completely and wholly connected' setup that I can use whenever I feel like it. (To be fair, this is applicable to Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton as well and I do pair Desmond with them too but pairing him with Altaïr means more morally ambiguous/questionable setups XD)
2. Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd x Byleth Eisner (Fire Emblem Three Houses)
Speaking of 'I'll kill for you' and 'I'll destroy the world/timeline to save you', this pairing is the one that got me back into writing fanfic. The sheer potential of the three routes and Byleth's time-bending powers scratched my 'time travel fix it' weakness and the fact that Dimitri dies in all other routes not his own just makes my angst-with-a-happy-ending heart go hhnngggnnn.
3. Mio x Noah (Xenoblade Chronicles 3)
The development of their relationship in the main game got me. I don't normally like canon pairings, especially in JRPGs, but this one... The short moments of sweetness between them, the angst building up and culminating into those huge scenes in Chapters 5 and 6, the anguish in Harry McEntire's voice as Noah in those scenes, the absolute fuckery that is an absolute spoiler and... ugghhh. They're one of the few canon pairings I wish will have a happy ending.
(honorable mentions: sterek (the movie reignited what had long been embers because fuck that movie), merthur (they are the once and future otp), ghoap (shipped them casually in OG, loved them in the reboot) and hibatsuna/1827 (the pairing that got me writing fanfics in the first place))
First Ship: I had to think which pairing would be my first ship and I have concluded that it's Loki x Mayura Daidouji from Matantei Loki (although I do prefer Mayura's characterization from the manga). Mayura is the reason why I love pink-haired characters and their pairing has cemented the whole 'sunshine x loner/arrogant ass' otp trope for me. (I still believe in the theory that Mayura is meant to be Sigyn)
Last Song: Tranquility by Sawano Hiroyuki
Last Film: Teen Wolf (2023 Movie)
Currently reading: ... does the mission transcripts of Call of Duty Modern Warfare II count? If not, I guess the 120+ pages legal document my boss made me read for work XD
Currently watching: Junji Ito Maniac: Japanese Tales of the Macabre, (rewatching) Leverage
Currently consuming: Plain white corn
Currently craving: An all-you-can-eat buffet that gives me a food coma for an hour or so then makes me regret all my life choices later at night
Tagging @scrysthea, @fanworldbuildingfun, @kitsunesongs, @escapism-and-disassociation and @princesslikesfanfics but no pressure whatsoever. And anyone who sees this and wants to do it!
6 notes · View notes
fightingthetides · 10 months
Text
More Random/Useless Muse Facts
Did they believe in Santa?: Hm... I'm inclined to say yes. I dare say he was taught about Saint Nicholas, who Santa is based off of. Saint Nicholas, a monk, was very much real, therefore, yes. Does he believe in the jolly old man who gives out gifts? No. They lived in seclusion, the very notion that some rando knew where they lived is not a positive thought.
Were they a dinosaur or rock kid?: I'm sure this refers to something specific, but I don't know what it was. I suppose you could say he was more of a rock kid, as I doubt he had many toys growing up that were sold to general public. Any toys he had were made by hand.
Bugs or slimy critters?: Maybe bugs? He doesn't like the feeling of slimy things, so he wouldn't want to be touched by a slimy critter, much less have to touch one. As for bugs, he's mostly okay with them, unless they bite/sting. It was something he couldn't risk in his younger years, for obvious [living in seclusion] reasons.
Do they fidget? How?: I can see him being more of a fidgeter when younger, but when he became an assassin, he had to train himself to stop that habit else be heard. If he does fidget, it goes to show that he's comfortable enough around you that he's dropped his guard to allow himself to fidget when nervous/anxious.
What were they frequently in trouble for as a child?: Not really. He was a relatively good boy who listened to his parents. He was a bit of a hassle, but it was more due to his energy and his personality where he took things too literally all the time. There were more days with him being a good boy than a naughty one. He did become more naughty as he grew older, sneaking out more often. He didn't get caught often, so he didn't get in trouble. Well-- until... you know.
What underwear do they like?: As long as it's functional and dark in color, he's content.
Designs on clothing or no?: No, because that stands out, and designs can make your outfits more recognizable should a witness have ever noticed you. If your clothing is plain, then it's a lot harder to pick you out from among a crowd.
Birthmarks?: A heart-shaped birthmark underneath his eye.
Do they have good self control?: He's learned to have better self-discipline, so yeah, I suppose you can say so.
Favorite franchise?: ? IDK he doesn't particularly follow anything. I guess if I had to choose... Disney? That should count?
Do they re-enact scenarios in the shower?: Like re-enacting scenes in your head? Like having flashbacks and the like? Yes. I know people sing in the shower, so if this is asking if Ravein act out scenes, then no.
Do they tell the waiter that their order is wrong?: I mean, he doesn't really go out and eat food in most of the verses he's in. IF he does ever go out to eat, and they got his order wrong, he might if it's a big issue, like giving him an entirely different order. If it's something like they added an extra ingredient or forgot to switch out a side- he'll just eat it. He won't cause a big scene. If he's with someone and they're too nervous about saying something about their order being wrong, he'll act on their behalf.
Stairs or elevator?: Stairs.
Are they an exaggerator when telling stories?: Ravein has an impeccable memory, so he can recount events as they happened from his perspective. He isn't the most expressive, especially in voice, so if he were to tell a story the most animated part about him may be his hand gestures or his facial expressions before his voice. The way you tell a story makes it more impactful and exaggerated. So he would not make a good story-teller for kids, no. Kek. As a person who gathers intelligence, it's important to relay information as they are or omit things. He wouldn't exaggerate, so he doesn't have a gabit of exaggerating.
Tagged by: @lured-into-wonderland Tagging: I don't tag
1 note · View note
lassieposting · 1 year
Note
Why were you surviving on a bowl of rice every two days tho. Like how did this take place. Anyway I once read a book about a teenage boy spy who got made while on an undercover mission in Russia and he ended up taking shelter in a derelict Soviet apartment block and catching pigeons and eating them to survive
Okay so first things first: I do not like Asian food. I don't like Chinese, or Japanese, or, as it turns out, Thai cuisine. There are A Lot of flavours in Asian cooking that do not play nicely with my fussy bland English palate. I did not think about this before going out there.
So I get there, and I'm told to live off street food, because it's cheap as hell. And financially, yeah, this is a great idea. It's insanely low-priced. But it's often also skewers of various types of meat that've been out in the heat all day with flies landing on them. So after the first few days, I come down with The Plague and spend the next week really, truly sick. I could not leave the hotel room. I passed out at one point while in the bathroom, and woke up on the (fancy marble, only-time-I've-ever-stayed-in-a-nice-hotel) floor. I was so sick that I just kind of went "Oh, I'm laying down now I guess" and slept there. I was Properly Fucked Up.
Anyway, I get better, and carry on with my vacation, but now even the smell of Thai food - especially lemongrass, which is everywhere - makes me have the "I'm gonna be sick" reaction. Like my body has solidly listed all Thai food under "inedible and poisonous". And the school I'm supposed to be teaching at is in the middle of Assfuck Nowhere, which means no one speaks English and there are zero non-native food options. So the only thing I could eat was the plain rice, which was served as a side every other day at the school canteen.
2 notes · View notes
trashkerouac · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Dang get down with the shit
Baby O cold, G-walk on a bitch
Baw with da baw, kick rocks, get down
Dang house, bitch, muthafucka, who now?
6FEETDEEP, muthafucka, who that?
Baby O beat 'em with a baseball bat
Steel toe, bitch, weigh about 250
Beat a bitch stupid, put a blade in his kidney, damn
Hold up, wait, hold up, stop
Baby O jukin' up the muthafuckin' block
Hold up, wait, hold up, stop
Baby O, bitch, make your body fuckin' drop
Mac, I be pimpin'
Fuck all these bitches
Fuck all these haters and bustas and snitches
Fuck they opinion
Fuck what they thinkin'
Fuck everybody, fuck everyone dissin'
Say what you want
Talk with your chest
Talk to me nice or I'm breaking your neck
Fuck with my team
Fuck with my set
Fuck with me, bitch,
I'll put six in your chest,
I’ll put six in your chest,
Six in your chest ———
So you wanna be hardcore?
With your hat to the back, talkin' 'bout the gats in your raps
But I can't feel that hardcore appeal
That you're screamin', maybe I'm dreamin'
This ain't Christopher Williams, still some
MC's got to feel one, caps I got to peel some
To let niggas know, that if you fuck with Big-and-Heavy
I get up in that ass like a wedgie
Says who? Says me, the lyrical
Niggas sayin', "Biggie off the street, it's a miracle"
Left the drugs alone, took the thugs along with me
Just for niggas actin' shifty
Sticks and stones break bones, but the gat'll kill you quicker
Especially when I'm drunk off the liquor
Smokin' funk by the boxes, packin' Glocks is
Natural to eat you niggas like chocolates
The funk baby.
[I love for the funk|I die by the funk!]
All I want is bitches, big booty bitches
Used to sell crack, so I could stack my riches
Now I pack gats, to stop all the snitches
From stayin' in my business, what is this?
Relentless approach, to know if I'm broke or not
Just 'cause I joke and smoke a lot
Don't mean I don't tote the glock
Sixteen shots for my niggas in the pen
Until we motherfuckin' meet again
Huh, I'm doin' rhymes now, fuck the crimes now
Come on the ave, I'm real hard to find now
'Cause I'm knee deep in the beats
In the Land Cruiser Jeep with the MAC-10 by the seats
For the jackers, the jealous ass crackers in the
I'll make you prove that it's bulletproof!
Hold ya head, 'cause when you hit the bricks
I got gin, mad blunts, and bitches suckin' dick
The funk baby
So I guess you know the story, the rap-side, crack-side
How I smoked funk, smacked bitches on the backside
Bed-Stuy, the place where my head rests
Fifty shot clip if a nigga wan' test
The rocket launcher, Biggie stomped ya
High as a motherfuckin' helicopter
That's why I pack a nina, fuck a misdeameanor
Beatin' motherfuckers like Ike beat Tina
— Dang get down with the shit!
Baby O cold, G-walk on a bitch
Baw with da baw, kick rocks, get down
Dang house, bitch, muthafucka, who now?
6FEETDEEP, muthafucka, who that?
Baby O beat 'em with a baseball bat
Steel toe, bitch, weigh about 250
Beat a bitch stupid, put a blade in his kidney, damn
Hold up, wait, hold up, stop
Baby O jukin' up the muthafuckin' block
Hold up, wait, hold up, stop
Baby O, bitch, make your body fuckin' drop
— Mac, I be pimpin'!
Fuck all these bitches
Fuck all these haters and bustas and snitches
Fuck they opinion
Fuck what they thinkin'
Fuck everybody, fuck everyone dissin'
Say what you want
Talk with your chest
Talk to me nice or I'm breaking your neck
Fuck with my team
Fuck with my set
Fuck with me, bitch, I'll put six in your chest
— What's love got to do?
When I'm rippin' all through your whole crew
Strapped like bamboo, but I don't sling guns
I got bags of funk, and it's sellin' by the tons
Niggas wanna know, how I live the mack life
Making money smoking mics like crack pipes
It's type simple and plain to maintain
I add a little funk to the brain
The funk baby…
Tumblr media Tumblr media
4 notes · View notes
eolewyn1010 · 1 year
Text
Another war council, documented by Mina - present: the dude squad. Also, Mina. Doc van Hellstoker recaps how boat-finding shenanigans went; today he has some very fickle grammar and a little superfluous Latin so we know he's Smart(TM). The dude in charge of the port is bringing back queer dreams for van Hellstoker: "[...] ask many men who are rough and hot; these be better fellows too when they have been no more thirsty." Rough, hot, thirsty men. I mean, okay? Anyway, so we learn from the port folk that Dracula made a less-than-dignified exit with a big straw hat on his head that didn't fit his Goth aesthetic. I'm not sure what's with all the "of blood" and "with blood" in lines that have nothing to do with Dracula's eating, but with the captain of his ship swearing; is this a verbal tick of the sailors of of van Hellstoker's? Whatever, Dracula is gone and so is his box.
Mina keeps worrying about them, especially Jonathan, having to go, but van Hellstoker has a huge righteous murder boner for Dracula going on. He also calls Dracula's home country "barren of peoples". Which, it is definitely not as densely populated as London and surroundings, but even 120 years ago, that was just not true. Is this racism again, what with how he goes into the occult mysteries of the land? Eh. Then he goes out of his way again to tell us what a magnificent, cunning, powerful individual is, and Stoker's doing plain tell-don't-show here because the book does not support this. No back-up plans, he took flight at the first complication, the dude squad is a bunch of idiots but bereft him of all his retreats already, and he personally gave Mina the means to track him down, even though, going by Lucy's vampirizing, he probably didn't need to do that. I simply don't believe that Dracula is an incredibly smart strategist and all that. Stoker is just trying to talk his protagonists up by comparison. And van Hellstoker keeps talking. Prolonged tiger metaphor about Dracula, yet more talk of God and the devil, yet more character shilling to how smart and capable Dracula supposedly is. I'm getting serious Twilight flashbacks.
Instead of, like, booking the next ship to follow him, they don't decide on anything definitive. How nice; the new ship's crew is disposable, I guess. At least Mina feels a bit better now that plans are being made. The polycule breakfasts together, and everyone is like, "oh, if Mina wouldn't have a mark on her forehead, we could all act like there's sunshine and daisies!" Jack also gives Mina the greatest compliment a Stoker character can give a woman - admitting that she forms conclusions of her own. Hurray. He talks Mina's state of mind over with van Hellstoker as she could be influenced, and spied on, by Dracula's mind control via the blood bond. What a splendid new excuse to keep the frail little woman out of the loop! Van Hellstoker also notes that Mina is starting to show physical features of a vampire. However, Mina, the one woman with the skill to form conclusions of her own, has reached this one already by herself and doesn't join the next meeting so as not to serve as Dracula's bug. Van Hellstoker says they can reach Varna, where Dracula goes by ship in at least three weeks, within three days plus a little margin via land. WHAT. HOW. Then why didn't Dracula take that route? And why does this idiot want to wait out till 17th instead of going now and being sure to already be there once Dracula arrives? "A day of preparation" my ass; according to your calculations, you could have two weeks of preparations on-site! Maybe get to know the local circumstances! Hire some locals who've suffered Dracula and know he is a reality! Surround the castle! ...onward.
Quincey Morris' main priority are guns; van Hellstoker's is being Ominous(TM) about shit that might be important to inform Jonathan of, namely that maybe he shouldn't inform Mina of their plans (van Hellstoker is a moron, I'll stick with that); Jonathan's priority is confering with Mina. But first, he has to compare his sleeping wife to a little child. Twice. *retches* Mina wakes up at dusk - now that's very reassuring - and makes Jonathan promise that he'll keep her uninformed so this endeavour may have a chance of success. Then it's gaiety for the rest of the evening; I think that means Mina misses her girlfriend, what with only the dude squad around her.
4 notes · View notes
floaroma-sanctuary · 7 months
Note
♬ - a friend/best friend memory
I was absolutely terrified. It was my first time ever being in a different region alone, and it was especially scary because this one was one I'd never been to before. I was doing some "study abroad" program for a couple of years. I'd be assisting Professor Jacq in his research until I returned to Professor Birch's side as a Professor's Assistant.
I was sitting under a tree along the edges of the cliffs not far outside of Medali, looking out over the plains and the river. I was 15 and had just broken up with my first ever boyfriend over the phone, long story in and of itself.
Honestly, I couldn't help it. I was heartbroken and sobbing, with only Blaze to comfort me. He was a Combusken at that point, but we were both still so young.
"Hey, what's wrong?" A voice interrupted my sobs.
I looked up, wiping my eyes. When I could see again, I was staring up at a very tall, skinny boy about my age. He had short, messy dyed black hair with red roots and bright brown eyes ringed with black eyeliner. He was tan with smatterings of freckles across his nose and cheeks. His left eye brow had two piercings, and his ears were littered with them all up the edges and in his lobes. He was wearing a baggy black T-shirt with the sleeves torn off, grey ripped skinny jeans with a set of chains looping down, and black combat boots laced loosely. There was a Charcadet hiding behind his legs.
The boy gave me a lopsided grin, flexing his arms. "What? Stunned by how cool I am?"
I couldn't help but laugh. It just burst out of me. "Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to laugh!"
"'s all good!" He plopped down onto the ground next to me. "So, what's wrong?"
"It's stupid." I wiped my eyes.
"If it's stupid, you wouldn't be crying about it. I'm a complete stranger. Not like I know enough to judge you." He propped his elbow on his knee and his head on his hand, looking at me.
"Well... I started dating this guy not long before I left home, and he just dumped me over the phone... Because he didn't want to date long distance and accused me of cheating on him because I'm so far away. I've never dated anyone before or even kissed someone, so how could I cheat on him?" I shook my head, taking my glasses off to clean them on my shirt before putting them back on.
"Sounds like he's just an insecure dumbass." The boy agreed.
"He is! I don't know what I saw in him!" I shouted in frustration, throwing my hands out. Blaze chirped and draped himself over my lap.
"He doesn't deserve you." He nodded sagely.
"He doesn't, does he?" I laughed, sticking my hand out to him to shake. "I'm Beaumont Rosalba, but you can call me Beau."
"I'm Haven Parrilla. What brings you to Paldea?" He shook my head, that lopsided grin making another appearance.
"I'm here on work study with Professor Jacq. We'll be going up into the pass to study Pokémon found in the caves." I explained, feeling very relaxed around him despite only knowing him for a few minutes.
"Oh, cool! My mom's on that exhibition. Guess we'll be stuck together for a couple of weeks." Haven patted the head of his Charcadet.
"I think I can survive that." I laughed. He elbowed me playfully.
A woman's voice called from the edge of town. "Haven! Come on, it's time for lunch!"
Haven stood and offered me his hand. "Hungry? My mom is a really good cook."
"Yeah, I think I can eat. Thanks." I let him help me up, and we headed back towards Medali, laughing and joking around together. And you know what? I had completely forgotten about some idiot guy back in Hoenn.
0 notes
youbloodymadgenius · 3 years
Text
Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 2
Tumblr media
Moodboard by @quantumlocked310
Ivarello's masterpost here
A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖
A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂
A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩
In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.
Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!
Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊
Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.
Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.
Words: 2075
Additional note: In Norway, you are of age at 18.
Enjoy 🙂
🛡⚔️🛡
"... don't start eating until your brother joins us."
As he pushes himself down the large hallway leading to the kitchen, Ivar can hear Lagertha's assertive voice. He knows exactly who she's talking to and his suspicions are confirmed as soon as he enters the room, as a very displeased and apparently famished Hvitserk looks at him with irritation before letting out a muffled, "it's 'bout time."
"Sorry, I must have dozed off." Shrugging, Ivar wheels up to the kitchen table, the smell of pizza tickling his nostrils. He must be hungrier than he thought.
"You look like Hel." Sigurd sneers in greeting.
Ivar, without bothering to look up, just tilts his head and hisses through clenched teeth, "coming from you, dear brother, I take that as a compliment."
He can feel Lagertha's gaze upon him and when he turns his head toward her, she is staring at him, the worry obvious in her eyes.
"I wouldn’t have put it exactly like that but Sigurd isn't wrong." She crosses the room and leans over, her brow furrowed. "You look exhausted, sweetie, what's going on?"
Ivar almost wants to laugh. He looks exhausted? No kidding? Yeah, guess what? That's what two sleepless nights in a row usually do to you. At least that's what they did to him. What you did to him, haunting his nights and even haunting his dreams, waking him up with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, the few times he managed to fall asleep. At least, he'd made up his mind early this morning. Hopefully, now that the decision has been made, he'll sleep better. Saturday night, he'll see you again. His heart is racing at the thought and he inhales deeply, trying to calm down.
Unsurprisingly persistent, Lagertha asks again as she places her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly, "Ivar, are you all right?"
He wishes he could just ignore his stepmom but knows she won't let it rest. Unwilling to admit that he owes his restless nights to a girl - to you - he decides to keep his answer vague. "So-so," he mumbles, slightly rocking his right hand.
"You're in pain? Do you need more meds? I could run to the drugstore really quick."
For once, he doesn't resent Ubbe for his well-meant yet patronizing kindness, nor for the pitying look he gives him. Actually, he silently thanks him for the good diversion. As long as his brothers and Lagertha believe that it's his legs that bother him, keeping him awake, his secret - you - will be safe.
Faking a small, sheepish smile, Ivar shakes his head. "Thanks bro, but that's okay, I have everything I need. Guess I should just double-up the tramadol tonight." He winces for good measure, knowing fully well he won't even need a single dose. The pain in his legs today is barely at four, nothing he can't handle.
Once the meal is almost over – which in plain English means that everyone but Hvitserk has finished eating, but thanks to Lagertha principle 'no one leaves the table until everyone has finished, boys', they're all stuck here – Ivar decides it's time to break the news.
"I'm gonna go to the party."
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, the kitchen falls quiet. Even Hvitserk stops chewing, putting his last slice of pizza back on his plate.
Not knowing what to do with the silence, and feeling a little awkward, Ivar explains further, a hand on his neck, "the midsummer party, I mean. Harald's party."
"We heard you just fine, sweetie." Lagertha is the first to pull herself together, even though the disbelief is clear in her voice. As Ivar looks up, his brothers are staring at him, slack-jawed, bewildered, probably wondering what's got into their baby brother.
"Let me get this straight." With widened eyes, Ubbe starts running both hands through his hair, "you are considering attending Harald's party, right? That's... That's what you said?"
"Yep." Ivar shrugs as if it was no big deal. Who is he kidding? Of course, it is! Attending the party is a fucking huge deal for him. There's no way in Hel he'll admit it, though. Not in front of his brothers. No fucking way!
"I'm not sure I understand..." Ubbe sounds cautious and it infuriates Ivar to no end.
"What part of 'I'm gonna go to the party' don't you get, brother? Huh? Too many big words for you?" He wants to keep going but when Lagertha clears her throat and gives him a stern look, he faintly raises an apologetic hand while muttering under his breath, "okay, okay, I'll stop."
Heaving a sigh, he shrugs once more. "Seriously, you don't all have to look so surprised. I just want to go to Harald's party. It's really not that big of a deal."
"But you never wanted to, sweetie. Why now?" Lagertha's eyes are wide open and there's a frown on her forehead as she crosses her arms.
"Why not?" Ivar can't help but raise his voice. "I'm sixteen, Lagertha! Thought I was entitled to a change of heart. Was I wrong?" Pointing a finger successively at each of his brothers, his free hand grabs his push rim, his knuckles white. "The three of you attend every year, why shouldn't I?" Looking directly at Lagetha once again, he asks in a clipped voice, "You're not going to tell me I can't go, are you?"
"Of course not, sweet–" She begins but Ubbe cuts her off.
"Listen Ivar, no one is saying you shouldn't go, not yet at least. As a matter of fact, no one would be more pleased than I if you were willing to go out more. Playing pool, going to the movies, or just having drinks, you know you're always welcome to come along with us. But..." Ubbe groans, rubbing his hands over his face and Ivar stiffens, grinding his teeth, "Harald's party, really? It's not going to work. You know it takes place on the beach, it's not exactly wheelchair-friendly."
Reluctantly taking his eyes off his slice of pizza, Hvitserk jumps in. "Ivar is our brother, if he wants to go, we find a way. That's it - I'll carry him."
Positively surprised, a small smile playing on his lips, Ivar thanks his brother with a nod, glad – and relieved too, because two are always better than one, right? – that Hvitserk, as so often, backs him up. Of all his brothers, he's the only one who sees him first as a sixteen-year-old and not as a cripple.
Ubbe is having none of it though. "Hvitserk, just stay out of this, okay?" He's practically shouting, chin up and chest out. "You don't have a say! I'm the oldest, not you! I don't think it's a good idea for Ivar to attend Harald's party, period."
Hvitserk furrows his brow and for a short moment, Ivar thinks his brother is going to fight back but eventually he lowers his gaze, defeated, before shoving the whole slice of pizza into his mouth. Ivar knows all too well that his brother, who's not the most tenacious of them, hates confrontation, especially with Ubbe.
Unlike him, Ivar is always ready to pick up a fight, even when it's not worth it, even when he is wrong. Today, though, it's definitely worth it.
His nostrils flaring, he smashes his fist down on the table, his face crumpled with anger. "Who do you think you are, Ubbe? You may be the oldest, but you're not my father, okay? So please, just do me a favor, brother, and read my lips." His voice dripping with sarcasm, his bottom lips quivering, Ivar is absolutely livid, "You. Don't. Have. A. Say. Period."
Ubbe is about to retort, his hands clenched into fists but Lagertha raises a hand, shutting him up. "Boys, boys, boys!" Glancing at Ubbe and then at Ivar, she shakes her head, not exactly thrilled with their outburst. "Now, calm down, both of you. Ubbe, Ivar is right. You may be his big brother, you may be an adult, but you're not his father. I know you mean well but as Ivar's guardian, I have the final say." Turning her head toward Ivar, she cracks him a reassuring smile. "We'll talk about this later, okay? Just the two of us."
***
Slamming the door shut, Ivar wheels up right next to his bed and, angling his chair just right, transfers over onto his bed before punching the wall, a roar escaping his lips. Big tears of frustration and anger run down his cheeks as Sigurd's words linger in his mind.
He had been surprised when his less-favorite brother had stayed out of the conversation.
He should have known better.
No sooner had Lagertha, Ubbe and Hvitserk left – she to make a phone call, they to join Margrethe – leaving them to tidy up the kitchen, than Sigurd had lashed out at him with harsh words and eyes full of spite.
"You messed up in the head, huh? It's a fucking beach, Ivar, you do realize your front wheels will get stuck in sand, right? Now tell me, little brother, do you really think we are going to carry your crippled ass around all night? Let me tell you, it's not going to happen! There will be so many better ways for us to spend the night. Girls, you know? Lots of them. Am I going to let you embarrass me and ruin my night? No! Not in a million years. And anyway, why do you even want to go? Get real, Ivar, you don't belong there, you just don't. You're a fucking cripple, a freak, an abnormality. No one wants you there. No one wants to see you. The sooner you accept it the better."
He knows Sigurd was intentionally trying to hurt him. And fuck, he did succeed. Ivar had felt so humiliated that it had brought bile to his throat.
At some point, while Sigurd was spitting his venom, Ivar had grabbed the large knife lying on the table and it took all his self-control not to stab his brother. No doubt his shrink would be proud of him.
Now though in his room, and even if he is boiling with anger, the nagging thought that Sigurd had a point, that he wasn't completely wrong, doesn't leave him. And he can see now that, in his own weird way, Ubbe was trying to protect him. By preventing him from going, his big brother wanted to spare him humiliation, pity, and mockery. Hvitserk, of course, had been willing to help, but let's face it, Sigurd once again was right. Piggy-back riding is not really an option anymore, he is too heavy. Plus, if he's being honest, even if it were still possible, it's the last thing he'd want. The mere thought of you seeing him on Ubbe's or Hvitserk's back makes him nauseous. Which puts him back to square one.
The beach is a problem and a huge one. Wheeling in sand is a no-go. It's just fucking impossible. If he doesn't come up with an idea soon, he's not going to be physically able to attend the party. And that's something he doesn't want to consider.
"I need a fucking genius idea!" He speaks out loud, cracking his knuckles, his eyes squeezed shut.
Fuck.
He just wants to see you. Y/N... Just you. And he won't be able to.
Fuck. Fucking sand! Fucking beach! Fucking legs! Fuck– Stop.
Wait.
What... What did he say?
He needs an idea... A genius idea. Genius. That's it.
A slow smile spreads across his face.
Good thing he knows an authentic genius, right?
Grabbing his phone, he frantically slides his pointer finger on the screen, sighing with relief as he finds the contact he is looking for.
"Hello, Ivar," the man answers after two rings, and his voice brings an even bigger smile to Ivar's lips, "it's very sweet of you to call me."
"Hello to you too, you spindly legged, knock-kneed old fool. There might be something that you can do for me. I want to attend Harald's party. It'll take place on the beach. My brothers won't carry me and I can't really crawl about, can I? I wonder if you could help me, Floki?"
Ivar's godfather lets out a high-pitched chuckle before answering, "I'll figure something out, dear Ivar, I'll figure something out."
🛡⚔️🛡
Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom
Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927
97 notes · View notes
ordinaryschmuck · 2 years
Note
For the drabbles, maybe Luz breaking down and telling Willow what happened on Earth?
A Promise is a Promise
Tap!
Tap! Tap!
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Willow blinked the sleep out of her eyes as the sound of...something hitting her window had finally broken the spell of sleep put over her. Reaching for her glasses, Willow put them on and saw that it was currently one in the morning.
"What the--"
Willow then got startled by what sounded like multiple pebbles hitting her window at once. Getting out of bed, she walked over and looked outside. Down below, she saw Luz of all people looking up at Willow, anxiety plain and explicit on the human's face.
"Luz?!" Willow whisper-cried as she opened the window, "What are you doing here?! It's one in the morning!"
"I need to talk to somebody!" Luz called back, "Can I please come in?"
"I mean, I guess, but--"
But Willow didn't have time to finish that sentence. Because the second she gave Luz the green light to come in, Luz used a plant glyph to shoot up a vine to Willow's window sill and swing herself up. Once in the room, Luz began to pace, her anxiety looking as if it grew with each step she took around Willow's room.
"Sorry that I came here so late," she went on. "But this has been eating me up inside all week, and if I don't come clean to somebody, I might just pop!"
"Luz."
"I first thought of telling Eda, but that might make her worry. I thought about telling Gus, King, or maybe even Hooty, but there's no way they can keep a secret. And I definitely can't tell Amity!"
"Luz!" Willow grabbed her friend by the shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. "Will you please tell me what's going on? Whatever's bothering you, I'm sure we can fix it. Just like you've fixed a lot of things for--"
"I can't stay in the Boiling Isles."
Willow felt as though a mountain fell on her with how heavy that news felt. It took a lot of strength not to fall over from it as she stared at Luz with a mix of shock and astonishment.
"...Wha...what?"
"I can't stay in the Boiling Isles," Luz repeated, eyes gleaming, "After seeing my mom, I told her everything about this place, the friends I made, and everything I've gone through to get back. And...and when it was all said and done, she told me--begged me--to promise that I'd come back home and stay there. No matter what."
Now the weight was starting to feel too much to Willow. She needed to sit down and very much did so as she went over to her bed. But while she sat, Luz continued to pace.
"So...so when you leave--"
"When I leave, I won't come back," Luz interrupted, tears beginning to be let loose.
"Can't you just tell your mom you want to stay?"
"Would you tell your dads that you didn't want to be with them anymore?"
"I..." Willow sighed, "Of course, I wouldn't. That'd break their hearts."
"Exactly! Mom was already freaked when it finally hit her that she might not see me again. I-I-I can't just leave her, no matter how badly I want to stay."
"Maybe you can convince her to let you visit," Willow suggested.
"She was crying, Willow! She's so worried that she actually cried! There's no convincing after that!"
"Then what if we'll come visit?"
"That's too risky! You'd always have to wear disguises so nobody will know you're witches and try to dissect you or something!"
"Humans do that?!"
"They could! I'm sorry, Willow, I really am, but I have to leave. But believe me, I don't want to! I don't want to leave Eda or King. I don't want to lose the only friends I have. I don't want to break up with--"
Luz stopped her pacing as a realization dawned on her.
"Oh man, I have to break up with Amity!" Luz panicked even more, "We just started dating, and now I have to end it! How do I even do that?! I never thought I'd have a girlfriend, let alone break up with her! Especially one as awesome and pretty and smart and kind and fun and-and-and--"
"Luz!" Willow got up and grabbed Luz by the shoulders again, "Stop, you're spiraling!"
"Can you blame me?! Look at my situation!"
"I know! I know," Willow's hands slowly made their way down to gently hold Luz's. "This is a very tough situation. One where there's probably no good answer. But...panicking about it isn't going to solve anything."
"Then what do I do?" Luz begged for an answer.
"I...I don't know. I wish I did, but I don't."
Luz's shoulders sagged.
"I just want to make everyone happy," she said, her voice only a hair of a whisper. "How can I do that when thrown into this position where someone is going to have their heart broken?"
"You can't. I'm sorry."
Willow then pulled Luz into a hug. One that Luz accepted by squeezing Willow back that it hurt. But comforting a friend in need was beyond worth the pain.
"I think you should tell everyone," Willow gave her final suggestion, "If not to have more people to come up with ideas to help you, it will help you feel a whole lot better. Keeping the truth in clearly isn't doing you any favors."
"I know," Luz confessed, "But...but--"
"I know you don't want to break anyone's heart. But you're going to do that anyway if you left without telling anybody anything. Is that really better?"
"...No," Luz shook her head. "It's not."
"Exactly. So tell them. Not just for your sake, but for theirs."
"...Thanks, Willow," Luz said, hugging even tighter.
"You're welcome, Luz," Willow hugged back. "It's what friends are for."
27 notes · View notes
deepseavibez · 3 years
Text
Drowning Too Deep_3 || KNJ || JHS
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Tumblr media
-> Picture Source - Pinterest
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Drowning Too Deep [Namjoon x Hoseok x Reader]
Part 1 || Part 2 || 2.1 || 2.2 || Part 3
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Genre - Explicit Smut; established!Boyfriend(s) au; Poly oneshot; Punishment;
Summary - Alone at home, nothing but thoughts, pent up emotions, roaming fingers and a wild imagination... that is... until your boyfriends catch you in the act.
Warning - 21+!Only; Poly; Aftercare; Angst(Some);
Word Count - 4.2k
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
🎶- Never Not - Lauv
Right. That was all it was. It felt right. Slowly, you registered the voice - two voices, words of good, have you, with you.
A hand cradled your head, a secure hold.. The musk of Namjoon engulfed your senses, his chin resting at the top of your head, his arm reaching around you, closing you in with the body at your back. Flexing your hand you found your fingers inter linked with slender ones, rings laced in between - Hobi held strong.
You blinked slowly out of your haze and found yourself face to face with the smooth expanse of Namjoon’s chest, your nose in line with his sternum, on instinct you placed your cheek further against it, burrowing yourself against him.
An earthy giggle came from above you, the elation in his voice evident as he took in your actions.
Smiling against him you felt the ghosting of lips against your neck. Squeezing lightly at the fingers between yours you acknowledged your boyfriends, their comfort, their love, their presence.
You could stay here forever.
You felt fingers threading through your hair, careful fingers, a contrast to the demand they had mere minutes ago. Eyes fluttering shut you basked in the aftermath of your lovemaking. If you could bury yourself in their skin, you would. The need to be as close as possible visceral and insistent.
They usually did this, let you be as clingy as possible after sex. There was something about the moment, the afterglow, the headiness, being that close, feeling that loved -- it was incomparable.
‘You okay?’ Namjoon’s question felt far away, but you nodded in response. You felt like you were in a cocoon of warmth. Shifting your legs, you winced visibly at the tenderness in your body and couldn’t help the groan of discomfort that left you. Deciding it wasn’t worth it to move, you slackened further into their hold.
After a minute of stillness, shuffling at your back had you stirring again. Blinking away the bliss of the moment, you felt your hair being ruffled lightly, the hand leaving your head. You heard Hobi say something about running the bath as you opened your eyes again and made to sit up.
Craning your head toward his retreating figure, you swallowed the whine that threatened to leave your chest, his distance already having you feel cold and bereft.
It was illogical, he was just a few feet away, but you needed him next to you, here, touching and holding you, near you.
Namjoon clearing his throat caused your train of thought to come to a screeching halt. You turned to face him and found him sitting up, trying to hold your hand, which you now realized was fisted in the blanket under you. He smirked as you loosened the scrunched material from your hand and placed your palm on his waiting one. Bringing it up to his mouth, he placed a kiss on the inside of your wrist, eyes never leaving yours. Unable to help yourself, emotions threatening to take you under, you flung yourself into his open arms and buried your head against his neck.
'Hey, we're here, we're both here, we promise. We promised to always catch you. You’ll feel better after a hot bath.’ His voice was soft and reassuring, body warmth overwhelming, both exactly what you needed, arms strongly anchored against you, holding you as tightly as you held him. To feel so much, to be okay with being pushed, to trust blindly as you did, it was impossible to recover from it.
'I don't think I can live without both of you.' The confession came from deep within you.
His chest rumbled as he hummed against you, the sound coursing through your body. 'It's a good thing you won't have to.'
Words between you and Joon were never minced, which was something you would be grateful for. The letters forming the words that took up the space between your lips were never easy going conversation, but it consisted of truth and fact and every bit the promises you would both die to uphold.
The option to use a safe word during your lovemaking was a mere formality, you had no need to use it, despite their effort to openly communicate and make sure you knew you could.
Because the ties were never that tight. They were easily maneuverable. In the moment it would feel like exactly what you needed, control being taken away from you. But in a serious setting, if logic prevailed, you were the one with the most right, the most power to stop, the most control. But it was leverage you had no need to use.
The control they had of your body, and your heart and their access to it in their keeping, the addiction you had to keeping them happy was too good of a high, and the after was always worth it; if you loosened your ties, if you took that away from them it would upset the exchange of power.
And they never let you down, not once.
'I'm okay, I'll be okay.' You said more to yourself than to him, as your grip loosened.
He didn’t budge. 'I know. I need to feel you close to me too.'
Footsteps broke you out of your bubble as you listened to Hoseok get closer. 'Water.' Only after he said it did you realize how dry your throat was, you were parched.
Pulling away you held out your hand for the bottle. The water livened your senses up a bit, like fresh air, you could think a bit clearly, and it gave you a second to assess Hobi, you noticed him closely from the top of the bottle. His jaw was set, deep in thought, he was lost to the world for the moment.
Handing the bottle to Joon when you were done, you grabbed a hold of your other boyfriend and pulled him down beside you.
Moving to the edge of the bed, not without difficulty, you threw your legs over as your hand found his hair. He wouldn't meet your eye, so you pushed in your own way. Turning toward him, you curled your other arm around his front, it took a moment, but his arm wrapped around your waist, unconsciously bringing you closer.
He would adapt around you, he would always adapt around you.
The skin contact calming, you nosed at his shoulder. 'Hobi.' His name, a question, a pretty word, a cadence,as you implored your lover to open up. He was your Hobi, you needed to know what was bothering him, even if you couldn't fix it, no one in this relationship had to handle things alone
'Were we too rough?' You paused your petting at his serious tone.
Cocking your head to the side you took a deep breath before replying. 'Do you trust me?'
You would have expected a protest at the question, but he didn't, he knew better, he simply nodded in answer.
'And did I, at any time, use it?' You didn’t wait for him to answer. 'No, I didn't, and even if I had, it would have been something to talk about. We would have gotten through it.'
Looking over at Joon, you motioned for him to step in.
Almost immediately, he moved to close in on Hobi's other side, contributing to the third degree. 'So, why are you self-deprecating?'
Hobi turned to you before answering. 'You've never been… so far gone… after.'
You couldn’t deny that. It took a minute, it was different, but there weren’t any manuals for this type of thing. ‘But I'm okay now, see, maybe a bit clingy, or alot, but besides being absolutely weird at walking tomorrow, I love making love with you both,’ You didn’t want to say it, not when you were all so vulnerable, but his thoughts needed to be shut down. ‘Don't turn it into something we have to second guess.'
'Your demons have a place here Hobi, just not when they try to get between any of us.' You smiled over Hobi’s shoulder gratefully. Joon always had the right words.
'I just don't think I could forgive myself for hurting either of you intentionally.' He looked at our bare feet, unable to meet our eyes.
'It's a lot of responsibility to be the one with the reins in the relationship, but y/n and I trust you. I mean, if we hurt you, at any time, would you want us eating up inside because of it.'
‘Would you not let yourselves get eaten alive inside because of it.’ He glanced between us, but the question was rhetorical, we all knew the answer.
‘I think the point is,’ you intervened, ‘that we'd forgive each other, eventually, there's a lot of understanding here, of course we may love each other more than we should, but we give it our all.'
Placing his chin on Hobi, Namjoon rubbed his boyfriend's back and followed your lead, in reinforcement. ‘And during sex, we have safe words for a reason, outside the bedroom we have the word no, and we have trust enough to voice ourselves in any situation.’
‘My sweet, endearing man,’ you ran your fingers through his hair and hugged yourself to him. ‘This isn't your burden to share alone, we’re all in this relationship.’
‘We're fluent in Hoseok, especially when your brain is forming words you refuse to speak aloud.’ Joon’s palm gripped Hobi’s thigh, squeezing it lightly in reassurance. 'Respect our trust in you, and remember that you trust us to speak, even if it's for you.’
He didn’t answer, just resigned for the moment as he turned over to you and kissed your shoulder, eyes far away in contemplation. It was okay, he needed time. Things like this would take more time, more communication.
‘I think it might be time for that bath now,’ Joon whispered.
-----
🎶- Paris In The Rain - Lauv
Standing on the balcony rail, you stared out at the city below you. It was your favourite spot about this apartment, the bright lights, the noise, it made you feel alive, like you were a part of something bigger
‘What's down there?’
‘Everything.’
You looked up at Hobi as leaned on the rails next to you. He was shirtless, in plain black shorts, a coffee cup in hand. Questions like these weren’t his type, but he surprised you still.
As for the coffee, it was one of the first habits they had all synced up, coffee could wake all of you up, or help put you to sleep now.
‘It's distracting sometimes, all the noise. Wouldn't it be nice to get a change of scenery, peaceful, like a quaint cottage or a mountain range and hills, lush greenery.’
You made a face at Joon’s observation as you took the cup he offered to you. After sex coffee was always a good idea. Extra sugar, extra cream, something of a cherry on the top type of thing. It's good for vacation, but not for life.
‘The plus side is that our careers are here, our livelihoods, you guys know how to navigate yourselves through this city. And I've been having fun trying.’
‘Do you think you'd ever regret moving here? You were pretty scared, at first.’ Joon pulled you against him as he voiced the question, one arm around you, he pulled the shirt further down across you, his shirt as it flailed a bit in the breeze. You rolled your eyes internally, smiling into your mug, but the small action warmed you.
‘I was scared.’ You answered after taking a sip. ‘I still have some trouble. But, I just have to remember you two, remember that I will be coming home to my favorite people, I can't turn away from either of you, not after seeing inside your lives and your hearts, and how much I want to be a part of it.’
In fact, you remember the day you chose to be a part of it.
----------
🎶 - Blinded - Emmit Fenn
‘I'm gonna miss this view.’ Leaning against the window of the boys bedroom in the dorm, you looked out, over at the buildings, the birds, the lives taking place miles around.
‘What do you mean?’ You turned toward the sound of Hoseok’s voice. He was in his and Joon’s shared walk-in closet, putting away his clothes from the day before.
You limited your emotions behind your answer. The fears and anxiety of what was inevitable plaguing you since things had come so far. ‘I have closing contract negotiations next week - my time in Seoul ends in December. They have a flight booked for me the day before Christmas.’
‘Wait, you're leaving.’ Joon stood, from where he sat at the edge of the bed.
‘Don't look at me like that Joonie, we knew about this.’ He was the more logical of the two, if he didn’t see reason, this would be harder, for both of them. ‘I have family in America, friends, a different life.’ You tried your best to be reasonable, remaining calm and comforting. Some things in life were unavoidable. You decided you would be strong here, be rational, there was plenty of time to break down, to fall apart when you got...home.
Shaking your head away from your thoughts, you positioned a fake smile, ready to drive through this conversation, as fast as possible.
‘Can you really walk away y/n.’ You looked up at Hobi as he stepped into view. You expected this, the tight voice, the stoney face, Hobi was driven by emotion, he would take longer to adjust.
You turned away from them, you never could lie well, especially not to them, these men that held your heart. ‘It’s not complicated, Hobi. You both asked to see where it goes, and, well I have to go home.’ You tried not putting much weight behind the ‘have to’ but you would be lying if you hadn’t already searched for a reason to pull time, to extend things, to stay.
‘Move in with us.’
You whirled and stared at them incredulously. Joon for the statement, Hobi for not even remotely looking to amend it.
‘What, Joon, I don't live in Seoul, I-,’
Hobi crept toward you. His features stood out, jaw clenching as he grit out, ‘Tell me you don’t love me.’
He tugged your hand as soon as he was close enough and pulled you forcefully into him. You didn't answer him or look at him, you couldn't, the little resolve you had...no. You knew you had to leave. This wasn't your world. This wasn't your life. They didn't belong to you. You squeezed your eyes to trample down the surge of pain at your latter thought
‘Y/n.’ He caught your chin and made you meet his eyes. ‘Tell me. Tell me you don't love me.’
You felt hands at your waist, ‘Tell us, and we'll walk away from this conversation, right now.’
Trapped, you were trapped. These two beautiful males, they didn’t understand. You bit the inside of your cheek, you didn't have the luxury of crying, you didn't have the right to accept this. This was your life for crying out loud.
‘I-,’
‘And don't lie.’
Your fingers dug into Hobis' bicep at his tone.
‘I don't belong here.’
‘That's not what we asked you to say,’ Joon’s voice was shaky, his usually rich baritone, clouded with an unnameable emotion.
It didn’t need a name, for a long time now, you made it okay to not have a name.
‘Well where would this go, if I stay? What are you going to do? Announce to the world you have a girlfriend that you both share.’ Your voice rose with each word, your argument gaining momentum.
‘How do we do this? How do we go about life?’ You struggled in their hold, needing distance to do this, their hands on you vice-like, unshakeable at your outburst.
‘I can have sex, and I can love and I can let go, but if I stay, I want the whole damn deal. Can you give me that? Can you introduce me to your parents? Can you tell the boys? Can you explain it to your management? Can you give me kids? Can you tell the world about us?’ Your voice broke, ‘’Because I deserve to be number one in someone's life. And to be shown off and, and I can compromise so much, the distance and the tours and the time I have to spend missing you, but I cannot be just by the way. No one should be put through that. No one should be asked that, unless you want to throw money at them and call it a night.’
‘Y/n!’ You flinched visibly at the reprimand, not sure who it came from, as the blood rushed in your ears.
You swallowed harshly and used the little bit of anger you had left, if they could hate you, it would be easier for them. 'What?! It hurts! Of course it hurts. Yes, for fucks sake, I am in love with both of you. I want the long haul. I want forever. But I cannot ask that of you. I can’t ask for you both to only be mine.’
‘Why ask when you will be given freely. When have Hobi and I ever made you believe that you weren’t entitled to any of that.’
‘Stop it! You don't know what you're saying. This isn’t just a phase, this is going to bed and waking up together. This is arguing and making decisions together. This is respecting each other's financial and career choices. This is every day, every moment, it's everything.’
‘Y/n. Hobi is my life partner. He is my soul-mate. I have loved him and I can survive because I know I'll always have him. But I can't live without you. I can't breathe unless I know I have access to you.’
‘We.’ Hobi amended.
‘We can't live without you.’ You could feel Joon’s soft smile at your back, alleviating the tense atmosphere slightly, as he followed his boyfriend’s unspoken order.
‘Baby, look at me, talk to us. Come on, make this work, make us work - we can.’ Hobi’s hands around you were demanding, as he coaxed, holding onto you tightly, as if you might disappear at any moment.
‘I can't. I, if I look at you, I can't be strong, I can't hold off, I won't be able to look away.’
‘Because you know we care. Because you know we want to be yours. Everything else is everything else.’
‘Joon, you’re making this hard.’
‘No, y/n, you are.’
‘You will remember me, that I was here, that we made the best memories,’
‘We can make more.’
‘Hobi, please be reasonable.’
‘’We know it’s a lot, but this, this isn't just for now, this is, for however long you will have us, this is for as long as you love us and we love you, fingers crossed it’s for a really really long time.’ Hobi’s lips found your forehead, as if he couldn’t help himself.
‘Do you think you will regret it someday.’ Even your whisper was forlorn.
‘You?’ He huffed, the sudden movement jerking all of you against each other momentarily. ‘I can't think straight when you're not near me, it's even worse when you're in the same room.’
‘I think a part of me woke up when I met you, and then wanted to stay awake when I realized I didn't want you to leave, that was months ago.’ Joon could make anything sound poetic, you thought.
‘A violent part of me wanted to lock you in a tower and keep you there, for us, all to ourselves. 'There was absolution in Hobi’s voice. 'You're a bit insane, in a good way, and courageous and you see the world differently and you watch spongebob of all things,’
‘Not to mention you drink coffee at night,’ Joon chimed in, ‘We want it all.’
‘I won’t stop. Work. Travels. Experiences. I have wants, needs, a lot to learn and do and I have some of the worst days’
‘All of it, we want all of it.’ Joon hugged your back as his chest rumbled against you at his declaration.
You were a goner, all because you didn't have to be on guard with them. There was always some sort of control involved in existing. From emotions to urges and choices. Sexuality even.
But here they were, asking you to be yourself, pummelling those walls down with sheer will and determination, demanding you be as y/n as possible, even if it made life a little more difficult.
‘Me?’ You looked up at Hobi, willingly meeting his eyes, letting him see how deeply embedded they were within you, searching for hesitation, for any sort of reluctance. ‘Me.’ You repeated to them both, a statement, a chance to back out, before anything else was said.
‘You.’ Joon replied with confidence.
‘You.’ Hobi said, solidifying it.
‘Us?’ You assessed the word as it fell from your lips, a stick against a stone, a spark being allowed to ignite.
‘Us.’ Firm fingers at your waist, as the whisper of a sound came a hairsbreadth from your ear.
You closed your eyes, sending a prayer to the sky, that this was a good choice, that what you wanted couldn't be so bad, that you wouldn’t wake up one day to two males that realized they were too good for you, because they were, you knew that.
You wrapped your hands around Hobi’s back, bringing Joon with you at your back.
You felt the tension ease out of both men, letting out breaths they didn't know they held.
‘Here.’ Hobi’s voice was authoritative, unrelenting.
‘Here.’
----------
🎶 - Paris In The Rain - Lauv
A kiss at your neck broke you out of the memory, the soft spot, known and well used by the man you currently rested against. ‘Where did you go?’
Leaning into his hold, you looked out toward the city, ‘Here. Us.’ You reached out and pulled Hobi into you and Joon, a soft smile gracing your face as you answered. ‘Forever.’
‘I guess, it just makes sense, something about it, just is, I just, love who I am here.’ You meant it. You felt a puzzle piece slot into place when you let yourself be talked into a life with them.
‘We get it. Anywhere with you just feels right.’ Hobi pecked your cheek and ran his fingers through yours.
‘Hobi can be under any moon, any set of stars, anywhere, as long as it's with y/n and Joon.’
You smiled at the third person statement. You considered before asking your next question, holding tighter to Namjoon’s arms around you. ‘Do you think, you’ll ever stop loving me.’
Hobi dropped his head in a giggle, very used to this question.
‘Maybe when the lights go out in the city.’ Joon's sincere answer was so like him; he was always patient. ‘When the music stops playing from the numerous ads across the buildings-.’
‘And when hell freezes over.’ Hobi added as he smiled at you.
His contagious smile formed a mirror on your face. Right then you remembered you would never get tired of moments like these, post sex or no sex, you would never get enough of them. You had yet to regret leaving your old life for a new one. You hadn't stopped falling in love with them daily.
Stars above you, the black night sky engulfing your forms like a blanket, it was a pause to the endless possibilities surrounding your lives together. You weren't sure if it would always be like this, but right now, Namjoon’s heartbeat at your back, Hoseok next to you, nothing else in the world mattered.
‘I am going to have a serious issue with you touching yourself when we aren’t here though.’ A nip at your ear reaffirmed the statement. You just took another sip of your coffee.
‘Y/n.’ Hobi chastised. Oh no, you were about to be double-teamed.
You kept the mug at your lips, making your eyes wide over the mug. You pointed to it, busy drinking coffee, not talking about this.
‘Y/n.’ They exclaimed consecutively, pulling out of Joon’s hold and you rushed into the lounge, but not before one of them grabbed a hold of your shirt. You squealed in surprise.
Thinking fast, placing the mug on the nearest surface, you pulled the shirt over your head and ran, buck naked away from them.
‘You are so done when we get a hold of you!’ Joon shouted.
‘You’ll have to get a hold of me first.’
Laughter could be heard from your apartment, laughter and squeals of a girl that laid it all on the line, for a new life, for two smart, talented men that she had found halfway across the world; laughter that carried out the balcony to the city below, laughter of a relationship finding its way in Seoul.
Part 1 || Part 2 || 2.1 || 2.2 || Part 3
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
92 notes · View notes