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bloody-peach · 10 months

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Initiation (BATIM smut: Sammy Lawrence x F!Reader fanfic)

Goodie Bag: vaginal sex, oral sex (m + f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, drug use (ink can do some crazy shit), wet dreams, hair gripping, big dick [if I forgot anything, please let me know]

TW: Satanic themes, religious cult stuff, sexual persuasion, slight brainwashing

Music I listened to as I wrote this: the Sammy Lawrence playlist I made:

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I saw that there wasn't enough Sammy Lawrence x Reader smut around this site, if any smut of Sammy at all. So I decided to be a pioneer and make one myself. I used a ChatFAI bot I made of Sammy to help with the dialogue and WHOO BOI, you are in for a feast! Again, thank you @omniuravity for introducing me to this man and my new priest kink. Also, I may edit this post here and there from time to time, but it shouldn't be too big a change. It's my fault for my mild perfectionism. Let's go!

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You don't remember when the dreams started.

It's been so long, you've lost track. But they all are essentially the same: a large slender eyeless demon with sharp teeth, dripping with ink, covering you with it as you feel a strange pleasure sink to your very core. Sometimes the demon watches as a man covered in ink takes you, filling your womb with his pitch-black seed. Sometimes the ink itself slithers onto you, covering your body and filling every one of your orifices until you were covered inside and out in it. You would wake up just before you could reach your climax, without fail. It's gotten to the point where you felt disappointed that you couldn't finish, ending up having to touch yourself to feel some sort of completion, but it was always only a fraction of the pleasure you felt in that dream.

You tried to look into what these dreams meant, what this demon was, but no answer. But then you discover something one night. You were watching a video and they talked about an old cartoon series with a character called 'Bendy' and his friends. The cute little demon reminded you so much of the demon in your dreams. You soon went down a rabbit hole of looking into these cartoons, finding out about the cast and crew who made it, about Joey Drew, and the studio it was created in. You also read newspaper articles talking about the various investigations into the studio, leading to its closure. You had to find out more, to find answers to all your questions.

But you also had to sleep, your eyes growing tired and your mind drifting off. You head to your bed and sleep for the night, and as you doze off, you're greeted by the ink demon once again. You ask it, "you're...Bendy..right?" The demon smiled widely and nodded, his teeth dripping with ink. He puts a hand on your head and you see an image of an abandoned, rundown building. You see the faded and broken signage above the door: Joey Drew Studios. You then recognized the place as one not far from your apartment building. You then hear a deep and demonic voice whisper to you, "Come home..." That's when everything went dark and you wake up back in your room. You may have had more questions, but you now knew what to do to get them answered. You had to go to the studio.

It was a cold and cloudy autumn day when you arrived at the old building. You could hear the leaves crunch and crinkle under your shoes as you entered the property. It looked like it had been almost destroyed by the years of neglect and exposure to the elements. Even the gates were so rusted, they crumbled to dust as you opened it. You cautiously walked onto the property, making sure no one saw you. You could see the signage above the door: Joey Drew Studios. Yep, this was definitely the place.

'Y/N....'

You hear a deep voice call your name. It wasn't the demon's voice, it was...someone else... it was like someone was whispering in your ear. You turn to see who it was, but you saw nothing. You turned your attention back to the entrance and everything inside your body was telling you 'go inside'. Your feet practically moved on their own as you entered the building. All the windows were shattered, faded pictures hung on the walls, old equipment covered in dust sitting on shelves and desks, and old sheet music and lyric notes were scattered all on the floor. You picked one up and read some of the lyrics. It was a song you recognized from one of the Bendy cartoons, and you saw the composer's name under the song title. 'Sammy Lawrence'.

'Y/N....'

You heard that voice again. You heard a door creak open and you saw some light coming from it. You can't help but go towards the door and open it. You go inside and you enter a hallway with dilapidated walls, covered in old posters of the Bendy cartoon, and ink dripping from the ceilings and puddles of it on the floor. You walked throughout the studio, finding old casette players with audio logs the cast and crew left behind. Jack Fain, Wally Franks, Thomas Connor, Susie Campbell, even Joey Drew himself spoke from those tapes. But there was one speaker that drew your attention the most, one whose voice you recognized as the one calling your name earlier. Sammy Lawrence. You were so drawn in by the sound of his voice, it was almost hypnotic. You listened as he spoke in his last tape,

'He appears from the shadows to rain his sweet blessings upon me. The figure of ink that shines in the darkness. I see you, my savior. I pray you hear me.

Those old songs, yes, I still sing them. For I know you are coming to save me. And I will be swept into your final loving embrace.

But, love requires sacrifice.

Can I get an amen?'

"Amen."

You cover your mouth, shocked at what had just happened. You didn't intend to say anything. It was like another voice was using you as a mouthpiece, controlling you. But it was your voice. You said it, but...

That's when you felt something warm and wet on your shoulders, it felt like a man's hands, but the smell of ink was almost disorienting. You froze up, too scared to move or speak or even breathe. You then sensed someone moving their head over your shoulder and you hear that same voice speak softly, almost seductively, in your ear,

"Ah, my dear Y/N. I see the Lord has finally brought you to me. How wonderful it is that we can share in his divine glory together."

You quickly turn around and back up to see who it was, and what you saw...was a black, slightly muscular human figure wearing a smudged Bendy mask with a hole punched into the mouth, where you could see a smile in that inky blackness. He had no hair, his body was completely covered in ink, and a pair of overalls stained with ink were the only clothes he wore. He appeared to be only a few feet taller than you, but you still felt small as you looked at him. You spoke, "What do you mean? W..who are you? How do you know my name?" The figure walked closer to you and responded, "I am Sammy Lawrence, a faithful servant to our Lord Bendy and his chosen prophet. I know your name because he has revealed it to me. He knows all who enter his realm.”

Wait...Lord Bendy? Was he talking about the demon you’ve been dreaming about? “O..oh.. well..what do you want with me?” “What does any faithful servant want with their beloved deity's chosen one? To bask in your presence, to offer you to our Lord Bendy, and perhaps...to indulge in some...” He plays with a lock of your hair then finishes his sentence, ”...personal pleasures.” The way he said those last two words and the way he smiled under that mask sent chills down your spine. You take a good look at him and think about it. You had to admit, even though he only had a mask and was covered in ink, he was pretty attractive as far as his physique and voice were enough to go by. You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of personal pleasures he had in mind, and what it’d be like to indulge in those pleasures with him. Would it feel as good as those dreams you had?

His voice broke your train of thought. “Would you be willing to join me in the glory of his name, Y/N?” You connected the dots and figured out that he was asking if you wanted to join him in worshipping the ink demon. But you didn’t know what kind of religion this was. What the scripture was, what the laws were, what Bendy’s goal was, nothing. Maybe it was a religion that sounded bad on paper, but when you looked deeper into it, it was actually pretty reasonable and preached things that weren’t actually bad. Plus, this may be the only way to answer all your questions and to figure out what he was talking about when he said you were the ‘chosen one’. Your curiosity outweighed your concerns and fear, so you responded, “I suppose...it’d be alright...” Sammy grinned, saying, “Excellent, my dear. Let us begin our journey towards enlightenment together. But first, we must make sure you are properly prepared for your initiation." "Initiation?" "Yes, we shall show our savior your devotion and your willingness to accept him in your heart and soul by performing this ritual. Follow me and I will guide you in all ways necessary to serve our Lord's desires.” He offered his hand and you stared at it for a moment. You saw as the ink dripped from it, as if the ink was a part of him. Was he a being of pure ink, a human and ink hybrid, or was he just covered in it? You looked at him, nodded, and took his hand. He led you through the halls and as you two walked, something deep inside you told you that this was the right thing. Was it, though?

Soon, Sammy led you into a room that was adorned with religious symbols and ink splatters all over. There was a giant satanic-like circle in the room, with black candles surrounding it. You could see a few Bendy cutouts leaning against the walls along with various writings on the walls in ink. Sammy guides you to the bed in the corner and has you sit while he gets everything ready for the ritual. You’re sitting there, not sure what’s going on and what will happen. ‘Don’t be afraid...Everything will be fine...’ The ink demon’s voice rang in your head, almost like he was right next to you. Then, Sammy walked up to you and knelt in front of you, looking up at you. He was serious about the ‘basking in your presence' thing, wasn’t he? “Are you ready, Y/N? To offer yourself completely to our savior?” His voice was in a soft tone, like he was a father soothing the fears of a child. You still weren’t entirely sure, but you did say yes, and you had the feeling this was the right thing to do, so you nodded and said, “I think so..” Sammy smiled and said as he offered his hand to you, “Then come, my dearest. Let us worship together in the name of our beloved deity.” His smile and how he was kneeling to you showed that he posed no threat, that what everything he told you was sincere. You also knew it was now or never to find out what was going on. You take his hand and you both stand up, him leading you to the circle.

He places you in the center and he lets go of your hand, walking away and grabbing what looked like an artist’s notebook with some words you couldn't tell crudely scribbled on the cover. Must be a bible, you figured. He smiled at you one last time before he started to recite some lines from the book. They sounded basically like lines you'd find in a regular bible mixed with what you’d say in a seance to summon something. As he spoke, his voice got louder and stronger with each sentence, he was putting his whole heart and soul into this. As the prayers went on, the circle started to glow and the room started to shake. While you were in the circle, it felt like it was sucking you in, keeping you inside like a magnet. No going back now. Once the chants were finished, Sammy entered the circle and held both your hands together with his and says, “Don’t be afraid...Everything will be fine...”

The same words the ink demon told you.

You nodded and then that’s when your hands and arms started to become covered in ink, and it was spreading. Sammy let you go and stepped out of the circle, having a fanatical look on his face as it occurred. “Yes, yes my dear Y/N. Let the ink consume you and become one with our Lord and savior. Give yourself completely to him.” The ink spread to your arms, your torso, your legs, it started to crawl up your neck and pool around your feet. Then something started to grow from the ink on the floor. It was a large mass, then it formed into a skinny humanoid shape, then it formed into the ink demon. You saw the demon look at you and smile, its maw and teeth dripping with ink. Just as it cradled you in its hands like a doll, everything suddenly went black.

You opened your eyes to find yourself in a pitch black room, no light or reflections anywhere. You couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face. You were able to stand up, but when you tried to walk, your feet couldn’t move. Then you saw a light shine down and there was the ink demon in front of you. It towered over you by about 5 feet more than your own height, and all you could smell was the sickening scent of ink. You looked at the demon and saw him offer his hand to you. You looked at him and felt a sense of safety with him, security. You knew that if you took his hand, no harm would ever come to you, not from him, nor from anything, or anyone ever again. And if you took his hand, you will find the answers that you seek. With all that, you make your final decision.

You take his hand.

He smiles, gently grips your hand, and everything fades to black again.

You start to wake up, lying on the floor in Sammy’s room, with Sammy looking over you, smiling. “Welcome back, my dearest. You have been blessed by our Lord Bendy himself. How do you feel?” He helps you up and you notice that your body is now covered in black ink, your arms, your legs, everything but your clothes. It felt...warm. Like you were in a warm bath that relaxed all your muscles, getting rid of all your stress, worries, and fears. “I...I’m not sure,” you stutter out. You weren’t lying, you really weren’t sure. If your life was forever changed, you find out that you’re some chosen one for some demon, and your skin is now covered in ink, how would you react? Sammy placed a hand on your shoulder and smiled reassuringly, saying, “It is normal to feel overwhelmed at first, my dear. But do not worry, our Lord Bendy has chosen you for a reason. You will soon understand your purpose in his grand plan.” He started to walk around the room as he continued, “Oh, you have no idea the full extent of the greatness of his plan. He is the one true god and we are but his faithful servants. Together, we will bring glory to him and all those who oppose us and any who trespass on this realm shall be sacrificed in his name.” He stared at the large ink drawing of Bendy on the wall and had his arms out like he was performing a sermon.

At this point, your lack of answers had made you a bit annoyed. "How am I the chosen one? Is there some sort of prophecy? What is Bendy's plan for me? Why am I here?" Sammy put his arms down and turned to you, sensing your frustration. He said as he walked up to you, "Our Lord works in mysterious ways, my dear. But you cannot deny that you have seen the signs. The visions you've had, of him in all of his glory. He has chosen you for something very special. I know that you were destined to be part of his plan. As for what he has in store for you, only time will tell. But rest assured, it will be nothing short of magnificent." Well..that explained why you had the dreams, but everything else was still left unanswered. Why were you the chosen one? What does that ink demon want with you? Is whatever he's planning your destiny?

Wait...what if...

You asked, "Will I find out his plan one day?" Sammy nodded and responded, "Yes, my dear Y/N. Our Lord will reveal his plan to you when the time is right. Until then, I will guide you and help you in any way I can." You felt a sense of ease as he spoke, relieved to know your questions would be answered one day. It may not have been now, but at least you'd be getting answers at all. And you were glad Sammy was here to help you understand this Lord Bendy and the rest of this religion. For now, it was best to wait and accept what answers you did get.

"Well..if you believe this plan is a good thing, then I'll believe you. But there is one thing you can help me with right now. What you said back there, about...indulging in personal pleasures...what did you mean by that?” A grin grew on his face as you mentioned his words from before. He chuckled and pulled you closer to him, his voice as sweet as honey, “Oh my dear, what I meant by that was exploring the pleasures of the flesh.” You felt a warmth grow on your cheeks as he continued, “Sharing our bodies as one under the watchful eye of our Lord. It is...” He wrapped his arm around your waist and whispered in your ear, ”...an intimate experience unlike any other.” You felt a shiver go down your spine from his voice. In that moment, you felt your body start to grow warm, you could feel your heat growing stronger. Was it your body reacting to his voice and touch, was it ‘Bendy’ doing this, or was it the ink having an effect on your senses? You weren’t sure anymore. Sammy could tell what was happening to you, and as he started to kiss your neck, he said softly, “No need to fight it, love. There’s nothing wrong with giving in to your desires. It's what our Lord wants for us. Embrace them and let us indulge together in the pleasures that he has bestowed upon us.” His voice, his kiss, and his touch just made the temptation grow inside you even more. You then remembered the dreams where you felt the immense pleasure. As images of those dreams flashed in your head, you remember the man covered in ink. That was when it hit you: Sammy was the ink man in those dreams. You wanted to feel that pleasure again, you knew he would give it to you, and this was your chance to do it. Besides, he said there was no reason to fight it, so why fight? “Ok..” With that, Sammy smiled and led you to the bed.

He then pulled you in and he kissed you passionately, his hands roaming over your body as he guided you towards ecstasy. You felt a sudden rush of pleasure as he kissed you. In fact, your whole body felt more sensitive to his touch. You realized this was the same feeling you had as in your dreams. Maybe this was what Bendy had planned... You let go and kissed Sammy back just as passionately, moaning softly from the sensation. He moaned softly as he deepened the kiss, his hands exploring every inch of your body. In between kisses, he said softly, "Oh my Y/N, you truly are a gift from our Lord..." The kissing continued and all of a sudden, you felt a liquid come from Sammy's mouth and enter yours. You recognized the smell and knew it was ink. You wanted to spit it out, but Sammy kept his mouth on yours and the ink flooded your mouth so much, you had no choice but to swallow it. You expected to start gagging from the vile taste, but...you noticed the taste was actually sweet. You also noticed the smell was no longer nauseating, it was...pleasant. You felt the ink coat everything as it went down your throat. Your arousal intensified and you felt your body growing warmer, all your worries, questions, and even thoughts slowly started to fade away, your mind starting to grow a bit hazy. Sammy broke the kiss and smiled. He whispered, "Let us become one for him." All you could say was, "Yes.."

Sammy kept kissing you as he laid you on the bed, took the straps of your dress off your shoulders, and slid it off to show your nude body. You slipped his straps off and once you did, he pulled away from the kiss to remove his own clothing, revealing his heavily inked body. You looked at him and were unable to speak as you looked at all of him. You could see his cock growing from the darkness of his body. It was much bigger than any man's you've ever seen.. It had to have been a blessing of some sort to be gifted with something as marvelous as that. But you wondered...would it even fit? Although...with how big it was, you knew it would certainly feel so good inside you. He grinned, knowing you liked what you saw, and started to grope your breasts, teasing your nipples with his fingers as he continued to kiss you. After a bit of that, he then slid a hand down your body down to your pussy, his finger tracing circles around your clit as he licks and kisses your neck. You couldn't help but moan from the pleasure he was giving you. He said softly, "My love, your body truly is a temple to our savior..." He moved his mouth to your breast, as he kept rubbing your slit. You moaned as you felt his tongue slide all around your nipple. The pleasure was so intense, it felt like your nipple was as sensitive as your clit. "Ahh..S..Sammy..." you moaned. He smiled and moved back up to kiss you deeply once again, his fingers still teasing your pussy. He says softly, "Oh how I've waited for you to come here..I've yearned for someone like you for so long... and now that you're here..I'm so blessed to have you be mine..."

He then slides two fingers inside of you, making you moan a bit louder as he started to finger you, his tongue exploring your mouth as he does. He felt your walls clenching around his finger, and it only made him more excited to be with you. "You're so tight, dearest..." you couldn't respond as the pleasure was clouding your mind. He just chuckled, finding your reactions to his touch simply adorable. He slid his fingers deeper into you, his thumb rubbing your clit as he does. He could feel you getting wetter and wetter as you moaned more and more, and he couldn't wait to feel you cum all over his fingers. Luckily for him, it wasn't that much longer, because just a few more hits and you were seeing stars. You moaned out as your orgasm caused you to cover his hand in your juices. Sammy just smiled and pulls his fingers out of you, licking the juices off them. You watched as he slid each finger into his mouth.

He then kisses down your body until he reached your pussy. "H-hey..w..what are you doing..?" You asked as he spread your legs open, but all you got was him looking up at you with a smirk and a low chuckle before he dove right in. He started to lick and suck on your clit, feeling your body still trembling as you continued to orgasm. He groaned as he tasted your sweet juices, his own cock growing even harder the more he did. "Mm...Y/N...you taste so sweet..." As he continued, you planted your hands on his head, feeling the ink partially meld with yours, and moaned as you rode the pleasure your lover was giving you. "S..Sammy..!" He grins and kept licking and sucking, his tongue flicking against your clit. He then slowly started to slide two fingers back inside you, feeling your walls still clenching around them. He knew you were close to cumming again, and he wanted to make sure you did. You felt another orgasm build up until it crashed into you like a wave, moaning out as more of your juices came out. He cleaned up all of the juice with his tongue and he continued to finger fuck you, his thumb rubbing your clit as he does. He can feel your body trembling once more, and he couldn't wait to make you cum again. But you couldn't take it anymore.

You flipped around so you were on top of him and you moved down to his throbbing cock, rubbing it as you licked up his shaft and sucked on the tip and slid him inside your mouth. He groaned softly as he feels your lips around his cock, your tongue rubbing against his most sensitive spot. He grinned and ran his fingers through your inky hair, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the sensation. He couldn't believe how good you are at this. You bobbed your head and sucked more, addicted to the taste of it as the ink coated the inside of your mouth. How could ink taste so good..?

He moaned softly as he felt you bobbing your head up and down his cock, your lips sliding down the shaft as you do. He couldn't wait to see what else you can do. He pushed your head down further onto his cock, making him go deeper down your throat. He moaned as he felt your tongue swirl around the shaft as you kept sucking him off. The force of him pushing you down on his cock should've made you gag, but somehow, something in the ink changed that. You sucked more of his cock and started to fondle his balls. He moaned a bit more, your fingers gently holding his balls as you suck him off and as he started to thrust into your mouth. You could feel his cock start to twitch, you knew he was about to cum, so you kept sucking to show that it was okay for him to cum in your mouth. He groaned and gripped your hair tightly as he finally came, filling your mouth with his cum. You swallowed all of it so greedily, you didn't even notice his cum was as black as ink, but it tasted so good..you licked on the tip of his cock to get each and every last drop.

Once you took him out of your mouth, he pulled you up and flipped you both around so he was on top. He grabbed your leg and pulled it over his shoulder and you felt him rub his cock on your pussy. He grinned and slid his cock into your pussy, letting out a shuddering sigh as he does. The action caused you to arch your back in pleasure and moan his name again. He couldn't believe how good it felt to be inside you, and he started to thrust his hips back and forth, his cock sliding in and out with ease. He groaned softly as he felt your pussy tighten on his cock, hearing your moans, your body writhing beneath him. The pleasure was so much more intense than you could ever imagine, even better than it was in the dreams. "S..Sammy..it...it feels so good..how...how can it feel this good..?" "Oh my dear, it's because of our savior. He's rewarding you for your obedience and devotion to him with pleasures non-believers can never experience. Just relax and let us enjoy this blessing." You did just that and let your mind go, letting the pleasure take control. Oh lord, it felt so good. You could feel his cock stretch your pussy out so well, it was like it was made especially for him.

He groaned louder as he hears you moan, your body writhing beneath him as he fucks you. He leans down and kisses you, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he does. He thrusted his hips back and forth faster, his cock deeply sliding in and out of your pussy. You wrapped your arms around him as you kissed, you could feel his tongue coat the inside of your mouth with ink and you felt it slide down your throat again, making your mind even more foggy. Sammy moaned as he felt your tongue slide around his, your mouth tasting so sweet. He lifted you up so you were in his lap as he thrusted his hips faster and harder, his cock going even deeper. The man just couldn't get enough of you, he was completely addicted to you. Your touch, your voice, your eyes, your taste, your pussy, everything.

He broke the kiss to say in between moans, "Oh Y/N... you're so perfect... I'm so glad Lord Bendy chose you to be mine.." You look at him and say, "M..me too..I..I'm so..so happy..!" Sammy smiled as he kissed you again. Soon enough, you could feel your inner core tightening. "I...I'm gonna cum..!" "That's it, dearest..don't fight it...let it happen.." And with a few more thrusts, you finally came. It was the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced in your life, your mind entering a new realm of bliss. Sammy felt your body shake beneath him, your pussy tightening around his cock. He grinned and continued to thrust into you. He held you as you rode your orgasm, your body writhing beneath him. You could feel his cock starting to twitch again, he was so close, so very close. Just a bit more..

He let out almost an animalistic groan as he felt your pussy clench around his cock as you came once again, your juices coating his shaft. That finally brings him to his release, moaning as he cums inside you. You could feel his hot cum fill your belly so much, the man must have been backed up for so long. He grinned as he feels you cum, his cock throbbing inside you as he fills you with his seed. He leaned to you and kissed you one last time as his high started to fade away. He still could not believe how good all that felt, it was almost like reaching Nirvana. Soon, he broke the kiss and held you close to him, his head resting on your shoulder, his breath hot on your neck as he panted. You both laid on the bed and let the afterglow consume you both as you held each other close. He whispered into your ear, "You're mine, my little angel...no one else can have you..."

And you couldn't have been any happier.

#batim #batim sammy #sammy lawrence #batim sammy lawrence #sammy lawrence x reader #sammy lawrence x y/n #batdr #bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revival #batim fanfiction #batim smut #sammy lawrence smut #sammy lawrence x reader smut #sammy lawrence x y/n smut #i hope this is all to your liking #i also hope i did Sammy justice in this #batdr sammy #batdr sammy lawrence

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runwayrunway · 10 months

Text

No. 10 - Dodo Airlines

Well, @vultureworth, I suppose you can.

For reference: I’ve never played Animal Crossing, so I actually had to do research for this. I saw an interesting thing or two in the process, though, so here’s what I learned! This took me down an entirely different rabbit hole, so two posts are going up today. Enjoy.

(image: Animal Crossing Twitter)

So, to begin with, just looking up the liveries I’ve seen a few mentions of the DAL logo being a nod to JAL.

I don’t not see it. I mean, they’re both circles and both follow an XAL format, but that’s true for like a fifth of all the airlines in the world. Both have a bird facing to the left. The fonts used are similar in width and color and both appear to be italic, but the spacing and typeface are visibly very different. I probably wouldn’t have picked up on it had it not been pointed out to me but the Tsurumaru logo is definitely iconic and it’s a neat little detail.

The only type DAL operates looks like this. It’s too stylized to discern an exact model but my guess would be that it’s meant to be a Cessna 172 or one of the many similar-looking Cessna models. They’re extremely common and frequently fitted with floats. I’ve flown on a Cessna 180 floatplane myself.

Yep, that’s sure a Cessna 172 on amphibious floats. DAL’s plane isn’t amphibious, only capable of taking off and landing on water, but you can do that too (I imagine it’s even easier); I just had a weirdly hard time finding a picture of a fully aquatic Skyhawk.

(image source: ahunt)

I’m actually pretty sure it’s specifically one of the very old models which had a much more angular tailfin and no rear windows, but maybe by this point I’ve thought more about this than the art team did when designing the plane. That said, I have to question the decision to add a third prop blade to a plane that can barely pull 200 horsepower with aftermarket engine changes. That’s just inefficient.

When it comes to the DAL livery, I enjoy the way that the curve of the main fuselage’s paint is repeated on the pontoons. The logo placement feels weird to me initially but I suppose upon reflection it would be strange to put it anywhere else and it looks fine. It would probably look a bit less fine on a real airplane but this is not a real airplane, this is a cartoon airplane flown by a silly cartoon bird in a video game.

This is making me appreciate just how hard it is to find somewhere to put a logo on a single-engine high-wing plane.

But the DAL fleet are actually jellybeans! That’s right, they come in four different colorways!

all images taken from either the Animal Crossing wiki or bidoofcrossing.com

I’ll be honest - I like the blue trim on the yellow and the green models, but it looks sort of bad on the red/orange. My favorite overall, surprisingly, might be the yellow. I don’t know - I like the contrast, but the yellow somehow feels less bright than the green.

Overall...A solid C for Dodo Airlines.

Just one thing, though. We’ve gotten basically every angle except directly from behind, but I don’t see a registration anywhere on these planes. Whatever aviation authority the Animal Crossing world is bound to is going to have some words for DAL...

#tarmac fashion week #grade: c #requests #dodo airlines #fictional airlines #jellybeans

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nebulousfishgills · 11 months

Note

let's talk about Diplopia!

what prompted you to write it initially? How did you come up with the idea to have them cross into another dimension? Why Twilight and not another of JCB's roles, like Shadowhunters or Sweeney Todd?

would you write another universe-crossing fic like that, either still with JCB or with other actors?

what was your favorite chapter or scene to write in Diplopia? Was there a scene you especially struggled with? Did writing it come in bursts of inspiration or a continuous stream of motivation? Or with the idea, was it a bolt of inspiration or a gradual build?

If, instead of Emily, you'd chosen to create a new OC to complement Caius, what characteristics would you give them? (Emily is fantastic and I love how she works into the story, but I'm curious to see what a "from scratch" Twilight OC would look like)

Do you like Emily's relationship with Henry or Caius better? Which relationship does SHE like better? Does she ever regret leaving Henry behind? If she were to encounter another of their "doppelgangers" (Jace Wayland, Anthony Hope), would she consider a relationship there too?

Ah yes, the strangest thing I've ever written that turned into one of my most complex fics to date... yes, let's absolutely talk about it! Thanks for the ask!

There will be more shitposts because I want to share my stupidity.

How it Began

I think most people know that I hadn't ever planned on touching Twilight with a thirty nine and a half foot pole. I'd grown up hearing about how god awful it was and that it had no redeeming qualities. For god's sake, the final battle never even actually happened! What are the stakes?? What's the point??

Then, of course, Summer of 2022 comes along and we all know what came with it. The further I fell down that rabbit hole, I came to realize that the pretty (fucked up) blonde I was starting to get eyes for... also happened to be in Twilight, among other things. I told myself, quote, "I'm not breaking my No Twilight streak over this."

Then, my roommate and I made the executive decision to celebrate our first week of college by watching Twilight since neither of us ever had. That was a very strange week and I remember having mixed emotions watching all five movies... the main one I remember was watching New Moon and then realizing that this is where that one meme came from:

Fast forward to that Sunday, I had finished Breaking Dawn (roommate dropped out after New Moon, I don't blame them) and was ready to move on with my life. But of course I can't leave well-enough alone. I was talking with a friend over snapchat about just how awful the movies were, providing examples such as the horrid cgi used when Caius' fake death happens and the Denali's rip his jaw off (I'll spare you the imagery). This friend knew about Emily and was very enthusiastic about her, and that's when this happened:

So that's how it was born. A friend from high school theatre gave me the idea, and it all went back to the arson. In fact, she gave me the idea for the fact that Emily had red eyes at this point in time could be a consideration.

The very original idea I had was a lot less serious and more goofy than it actually ended up being. In fact, one of my very first incarnations of the idea was essentially akin to (and this is such a niche reference) the Goof Off from that one episode of My Little Pony where Pinkie Pie and Weird Al try to one up each other to win over Rainbow Dash to prove who's the better Party Pony:

youtube

Except, of course, it's Caius and Henry trying to one-up each other to impress Emily. A flower, new clothes, human souls, arson, you get the picture. And Eddie was always going to be there to bear witness to this insanity, keeping essentially a tally of who was "winning" this asenine contest.

Of course, however, a fic like this needed research. I know, it wasn't supposed to be taken super seriously and I could have probably gotten away with using the bare minimum characterization and knowledge the movies gave me, but I don't know how to half ass fics. So, I just opened the wikis and started reading. The information I discovered was... actually a lot more fascinating than I had expected. In fact it taught me more than I had thought to ask.

I remember laughing stupidly hard at Marcus' "death" because I genuinely thought he was just so over everyone's shit that he was like "thank fuck get me away from these weirdos" but NO, this dude's story is so fucking tragic I sort of feel bad for finding that scene as funny as I do. That, and I realized that my central focus, Caius, was just a, quote, "Trigger Happy Wife Guy" who just wasn't fully realized... which of course brought up said wife, but that's a later issue.

Armed with more knowledge, I needed to figure out how this was supposed to go. I couldn't just plop Henry, Emily, and Eddie in Volterra and have this pseudo Goof Off without rhyme or reason. How did we get there, how did this happen, why did this happen, and so on.

I can't put into words how far this fell from my original dumb idea. I repeatedly say even now that the original joke got lost in translation along the way. The primary source of comedy was supposed to be these two guys with almost identical faces fighting over Emily... and then that posed the question. Why would Emily even consider Caius at all? It's a contest of who's in theory the better lover, but why would Emily give Caius any thought other than the uncanny resemblance and maybe the shallow, superficial gifts he could give her?

Answering this question in the place where all my big writing ideas come from (the shower) could arguably be considered my biggest mistake/triumph.

She and Henry had to get into some kind of fight.

It took me a while to figure out what that was about, but eventually the 'joke' helped me figure it out. Diplopia (I was always proud of the cleverness of the title. It's the medical term for having double vision/seeing double) takes place after the events of Stranger Things 4, so by all rights Henry should look like Vecna, right? No, because then the joke wouldn't land the same way. So, you know, for the sake of the story I came up with an explanation. Consuming enough human souls allowed Henry to shed this gross, viney, fleshy skin, which probably meant Emily not only had to work double time to help the effort, but give up sustenance she could have used. Then it all just fell into place, her insecurities about her own Upside-Down modifications, some simmering issues in their relationship they hadn't dealt with, all that shit.

And suddenly pure comedy turned into an angsty valliant effort on Henry's part to win Emily back because he accidentally fucked up. There are still elements of the original idea in the fic, the gifts Caius gives Emily when she's giving Henry the silent treatment, and the tally board Eddie uses is seen when they're trying to figure out how Henry can fix his oopsie...

Which leads me to the fact that the very original one shot I had uploaded to my Stranger Things one-shots book on Wattpad had a different ending.

(Side note, my character arc has been all but abandoning Wattpad except as a means to store drafts. Friendship ended with Wattpad, now AO3 is my new best friend. It only took so long because of interface familiarity; I stopped reading any fics on there aside from my friends' years ago)

Originally, Emily realized all the effort Henry was going through to make her happy again was proof he was the one who knew her the best, her perfect match despite the fact that Caius provided her things she could also find the appeal in... and then I decided to be cheeky and say the entire one shot was a vision Emily had like how Breaking Dawn 2 ended. Armed with foresight, she could decline Caius' offer for them to stay for dinner and she and her two companions could just go home.

So I posted it and left it alone for about... three months.

Then I watched Breaking Dawn 2 again with, actually, @ohitshoneybee and before I knew it, I felt the familiar horrible tendrils forming.

A new hyperfixation.

Of course, before this I had once in a while thought about what would have happened if Emily had just... decided to stay with Caius, but I never went much further with it than small ideas. But NOPE, my stupid ass decided to write a whole continuation that went through all the movies just to see how they would change if Emily became a factor. That became a small winter break project, writing what I called "The Director's Cut" and posting it to an untagged story on Wattpad because originally I just wanted close friends to read it.

This allowed me to get more extensive and creative with the lore. I had The Wife Problem to deal with, sure, but I fixed that quickly and then could proceed with fully weaving Emily into this... frankly mediocre story and making my own improvements (namely trying to make Bella seem less... you know, flat faced and stupid by making her knowledgable about Hawkins, for example). Now Emily could wreck shop and I could get revenge on the franchise that had begun to ruin my life by taking a fat piss on it and putting my OC into it to make it better.

That original version of the longer story had multiple endings, like video games. A Bad Ending, A Neutral Ending, and a Good Ending. The Bad Ending was basically if Alice's vision was a reality and Emily really had lost Caius, the asshole she gave up everything for... it doesn't end well for anyone, lemme tell you. The Neutral Ending was the closest to the movie, the entire battle being a vision and the Volturi just walk away (not without complaints from Emily and Caius of course)... and then because I really wanted to be an asshole, suddenly Emily woke up back in the Upside Down, none of it having ever happened in the first place.

Once I finished the full story, I waited a bit and then decided I'd be brave and not only upload it to Archive of Our Own, but clean it up and try my hand at smut since I figured I was about to turn 19 and I'd wanted to put on big girl shoes for a while at that point... of course it had to be this fic, but you know. I chose to just use my original Good Ending since I had always viewed that as the "canonical" ending, with the Volturi kicking Cullen ass.

So, now here we are, several months later, and I have a sequel in the works. What started as an idea for a comedy one shot has now become arguably my most notable fanfic series with emotional gut punches and general weirdness.

And that's that.

So, that was a lot, but let's keep going with your other questions.

Why Caius?

I can't really provide an honest reason that sounds clever or complex. It's not like I spent hours deciding to go this route out of several others. I suppose the least complicated way to put it is just that Twilight was my first step into branching out to Jamie's other works and the idea grew because of that specifically. Diplopia was always written to make fun of Twilight and because I noticed that both Caius and Emily had this shared trait of liking fire. That's literally it.

Also I think one of the other reasons was the slowly budding desire to expand upon these characters that Stephenie Meyer, frankly, half assed. I've had the discussion with many people about the wasted potential these characters had and how I, in particular, take offense to it beyond the superficial reason that I think Jamie's more talented than such a one note character like Caius was written like displays.

The Volturi is literally a coven of dramatic, theatre kid, art and science nerds that also happen to enforce vampire laws. Since they stand in opposition to the Cullens, naturally that makes them The Bad Guys since what kind of Monster would stand in the way of Bella's happiness? So why should they get any depth?

Thing is, the few traits Meyer gave to the Volturi are traits that describe me exactly. She created the bones for characters that seem specifically curaited to me and my tastes. So their lack of depth and information bothers me excessively because I want to know more and she won't give me that information.

I'm serious, this is part of Caius' page in the Official Guide Book she wrote herself

"Sometime before 1300 BC" "Unknown" "Unknown" Ma'am this is your official guide book that has everything one needs to know about your series, you can fill in these unknown dates! Not to mention the utter lack of respect she gives the wives. They get ONE sentence, and it just says who they're married to.

Stephenie Meyer, you named Caius' wife after Athena (side note, always been my favorite of the Greek Pantheon, another reason I feel a very strong connection with these characters), she's obviously a badass, not a trophy wife who gets high.

A pet project I wanna start is to write my own guide book about the Volturi using the bones she gave, but adding my own ideas, giving these characters depth, including ideas from fics and blogs that also feel the same way as I do.

All this to say, aside from the main reason I gave, I chose Caius because, in a sense, he and his wacky, weird coven chose me. I feel very protective over these characters and I want to give them their dues. I don't claim to be the ultimate say in this since I'm a baby in the fandom and others have wonderful ideas I subscribe to, not the other way around. But still.

Other Universes?

I don't want to rule out the possibility, but Diplopia/Necrosis really feels like a one-of-a-kind phenomenon. I don't think the same effect could be felt if, say, they ran into Alicent Hightower for some reason.

(Ironic, considering I did actually find a fic shipping Alicent with the Three Stooges Kings... unfortunately it's written in Spanish soooo...)

This has been a trope I've liked to at least play with a little bit in the past, though. I remember a long time ago I thought it'd be a funny idea if my Avengers OC ran into Thomas Sharpe from Crimson Peak, a character played by Tom Hiddleston aka Loki (who she's shipped with). I never did anything with it beyond a few texts with a friend discussing the idea of Olivia and Edith duking it out.

However as of right now, I don't really forsee another forray into the Doppleganger Crossover realm anytime soon.

The Actual Writing

Favorite Scene/Chapter - Honestly I love many scenes in this fic for many different reasons. There was a certain satisfaction that came with writing Henry and Emily's big arguement and inserting Emily into the events of the actual series was wildly fun.

Although I think my favorite scenes to write in this story are as of yet unpublished scenes in its sequel, Necrosis, that I can't talk about for spoiler reasons but have been written because I'm impatient. There are two chapters in particular there that I'm immensely proud of, one where Emily is a complete girlboss and the immediate aftermath where she has a long talk with another character about her past, why she did what she did in the previous chapter, and her feelings about everything she's done as a whole, it's a very touching scene...

That's probably cheating, though, so for the sanctity of the question, I think my favorite scene in Diplopia is either the scene where the secretary has to find plane tickets to get the coven to the Cullens and the computer is infuriating everyone or the scene where Caius and Emily are talking, ah, "post coitus" about their pasts and, specifically, what happened to Athenodora.

Struggles - The smut, for one, since I'd never written smut to actually post before, and I hadn't even written anything smutty at all in a very long time. I'm getting more comfortable with it since it's something I want to include in my writing, this one in particular. It just takes me a whiiiiiile to hype myself up enough to do it. Plus, I know there's the question of whether smut is "necessary for the plot," but trust me, for Necrosis in particular any spicy scenes are important. The reason why will become more obvious as the story progresses.

Also, writing Henry and Emily's goodbye was extremely hard. I'm very protective of them and their relationship and it's something that's very important to me. I think the goodbye made the situation more real to me. I wanted to do it because then I could move on to the fun stuff later in the story, but that scene was very hard on me emotionally. I suppose that brings up the question as to why I did this in the first place, but the only real answer I can give is "shits and giggles." I'm not ashamed to admit I was crying while writing it, and the fact that "Slipping Through My Fingers" from Mamma Mia happened to come up on my shuffle while it was happening...

Motivation - The motivation was strange for sure. Nine times out of ten when I write my fics the motivation to write comes in bursts after days or even weeks being absent. Diplopia was no different. I remember it took me a while to get the original one shot done, but that wasn't necessarily a motivation issue, more like a... "once I go through with this, I can't go back, I'll have officially written Twilight fanfiction" and it was... kind of a battle to come to terms with that, and then overcoming my motivation wave.

This also brings up how I plan my fics... usually I don't plan aside from mentally, but for this one, once I decided to go full send on the Director's Cut, I knew I had to somewhat shape what I wanted to do and have it written down. So I started my trend of writing long messages to myself on a Discord server with only me in it devoted to sending myself stuff or writing down ideas. There are pages worth of notes on Diplopia and Necrosis in there. And when I get more ideas, I just add to it. The idea train never stops with me.

Emily vs. Another OC

Being honest, there were a few times where I had an errant thought or two about coming up with a whole new OC to ship with Caius aside from Emily. I never went anywhere with it other than an idea or two about a backstory or a personality, though, and I don't plan on going further than that. Here's why.

By far, Emily is my most developed, well-rounded OC. As a Twilight OC, she has an entire, fully fleshed out backstory that comes from her "past" as a Stranger Things OC. She works incredibly well as a match for Henry, but she's also very compatable with Caius. My ability to ship her with both of them very seamlessly just feels natural and my best route to go with. For all intents and purposes, Emily is my OC for Twilight just as much as she is my OC for Stranger Things.

The only thing I can think of that makes her Stranger Things ties... we'll say stronger is that she can exist as a Stranger Things character without her additional Twilight lore, but she cannot exist as a Twilight OC without at the very least her base level Stranger Things lore...

I say "base level" and I mean basically everything up until she meets Henry (so her mother giving her up, her shitty orphanage she eventually runs away from etc). I have another one shot planned where Emily manages to avoid the trauma of HNL entirely and skips right to Italy with Caius... and an additional detail but that's another conversation.

So, wouldn't it be easier to come up with a whole new OC without those Hawkins ties?

Well, maybe, but the thing is that she wouldn't be nearly as developed as I would like. And I feel like at a certain point she'd just feel like Emily, just without the baggage. It's just not in my interest to do such a thing.

However.

There are some ideas that I have that just don't quite work with Emily. She's so developed that there are things that just aren't in character for her. Her personality and presence is so unique that at a certain point there's no room for additional base level nuance. She can only change slightly with a "hypothetical" character development, and emphasis on the "slightly."

But you know who could benefit from this base level nuance that Emily can't use? Who is in desperate need of some filling to her character?

Athenodora.

Let's get something clear, Thena is Stephenie Meyer's character, I'm not saying I'm just straight up stealing her character and calling it an OC. But remember how I said I wanted to make it a project to expand upon these near empty husks of characters with my own ideas and headcanons?

All the traits I can't use with Emily I could in theory give to my revamp (no pun intended) of Athenodora. I mentioned a few asks ago how I had a one shot idea cooking that doesn't involve Emily. That one shot is basically going to be me writing out Athenodora's story. Who she was before, where she came from, how she was turned, how she met Caius, and so on. All the stuffing that could have gone into a half assed OC can be added to Thena, a character with bones who needs meat.

So, tl;dr, Emily is the defacto Twilight OC for me, but any and all energy that I could hypothetically put into a from-scratch character would be much better utilized in giving substance to a character that needs it much more.

Team Henry vs. Team Caius

Oh boy! Well, this is the real question for sure. I knew at some point I'd be asked for my opinion on the matter. And after a long, hard debate with myself, my answer is...

I can't pick.

I know, it's such a cop-out answer, but I genuinely cannot decide who's the better match for Emily at the end of the day. It's a cliché but it's like asking me to pick a favorite child. They both have pros and cons, and it's a completely subjective opinion based on the individual which of those pros and cons hold more weight. For example, I know you seem to prefer Emily with Henry for any number of reasons, meanwhile my best friend has a certain preference for her being with Caius for other reasons.

In an ironic twist, this is my Team Edward or Team Jacob in more than just the love triangle object. When it came to Bella, Jacob was the childhood friend who came with what was familiar and Edward was the vampire who came with the family that Bella had lacked to a certain degree.

Sound familiar?

For me, my preference changes with my mood on the situation, and that mood can change in seconds, back and forth.

Sometimes I re-read His Tenebris Moenibus or the other associated one shots and I feel like the absolute worst for taking away, quote, "the only thing [Henry's] ever loved" and how he wants to reshape the world for both of them just so he can make Emily truly happy because of that love he has for her. And I made her break it off with this man because I got the urge to create chaos?? The trauma bonding, the shared goals and ideas, the willingness to literally destroy the world for each other, it's endearing.

And then I take a look at the other side of things. I sometimes forget the base level circumstances as to how this happened in the first place because, to me, Emily falling in love with Caius also has a certain natural way about it. It feels like a legitament, viable option. Similar to Emily and Henry, they're damaged individuals who help each other essentially patch each other up. I think the only reason this fact can fall through is the fact that I just haven't been able to show just how badly Thena's death had affected Caius before Emily showed up since one, the aforementioned under-developing of their characters and relationship by proxy, and two, it's very hard to not only create that from scratch, but blend that in when I have to balance so many other more important plot threads.

Not only that, but as I said, Caius came with a family, something Emily's been without but secretly longed for. She has so many siblings and friends, "more than [she] know[s] what to do with," who help support her and provide a different sort of love to her. Aro's her strange older brother who she fights with, sure, but also sees somewhat of herself in (namely the fact that they're both batshit insane at times and have... spotty pasts). Sulpicia's her matronly sister who in many ways is a rock for Emily to keep her from going too wild, but also can act as another woman who can understand her. Marcus is... just there, unfortunately. He has his own issues and typically Emily's too haywire to pay much attention to him.

And the Guard of course! Her relationship with Jane is I think what Emily wanted her relationship with Eleven to be like. Even if Jane is much older technically, their older/younger sister type bond is incredibly special to Emily, Alec is just a bonus. And we have characters like Heidi, who help Emily branch out and be her own unique self or even yet unseen dynamics with Felix or Demetri. It's a whole support system and Caius is just the cherry on top, someone who genuinely cares for her and wants her to be her best self... even if they light things on fire along the way.

Now as for what Emily thinks...

I think like me, she's not entirely sure who she truly prefers at the end of the day. She knows and understands everything that I said a second ago, just much more personally which makes it an even harder choice.

What I do know is that she never regrets the relationships she had with either of them. She knows they both provided things she needed and she helped them in her own ways as well. Though, and I've said this before, when Emily's with Caius, a small part of her always will long for Henry because of the fact that she's essentially frozen in time still feeling that love for him. Nothing is going to change that. So by proxy sometimes she feels regret for leaving him, but that's not mutually exclusive to also regreting her relationship with Caius. She can regret leaving Henry while also being very happy as she is with Caius at the same time.

Caius also knows that Emily has this deep seeded love and longing for Henry and he will never ever try to erase that. He knows how much Henry meant to her and will never ever say Emily should never have been with Henry. He knows she loves him, and she also loves Henry. He can live with that.

I can't exactly speak on Henry's feelings since I don't exactly know what they are. That's not me just avoiding the question. Since I don't have season 5 to guide me, I don't know how his story wraps up. It seems odd considering this is fanfiction so why should I care about canon, but I feel like I need to know how Henry's story wraps up in season 5 so I know how it wraps up when Emily is with him, and then I have to remove her from that new equation. I'm making it harder than it needs to be, but that's how my brain is choosing to operate.

At least in part though, he feels like if she's happy, then he's happy. In a way, he did give her happiness like he promised, now that I think of it that way.

Some other possible Jamie Variants?

As I said, this story was very curaited to pitting Caius against Henry because that's just how it developed from the start. But I have thought about this question a little bit since clearly Emily Has A Type, so why shouldn't we think about Jamie's other characters?

I think the next most likely candidate would be Jace. Personality wise, he and Emily have similarities. Their snark, their I'll say off-putting demeanors, among other things. That, and their aesthetics are similar. Emily's got tattoos and dresses alternatively, same as Jace. Plus, I think Emily would also be Jace's type since Emily and Clary have some similar traits like their red hair colors and brown eyes.

The primary problem I see with this is kind of a big one, though. Jace is a part-angel demon hunter. Emily is quite literally, for all intents and purposes, a demon. It would make for an interesting variant of the "two lovers on opposing sides of a war" trope, but that seems like a reaaaaaalllllly hard thing to bypass... oh but goddammit Emily as a Shadowhunter sounds like such a badass concept.

SHIT

I'm gonna move on.

Sweet little Anthony Hope I feel like is a much lower candidate. Emily doesn't quite fit in his world, nor does Anthony fit in hers. Emily's far too much of a psychotic bitch for him. Plus, this would have to be like, a younger version of Emily since in Diplopia (our baseline), she's 38, a whole 20 years Anthony's senior. That, and there would also have to be time travel used since Sweeney Todd takes place 159 years before that. I shouldn't really factor in these logical aspects since nothing about Diplopia was logical in the first place, but I can't help consider it.

They don't seem that compatable to me. Anthony should just stick with Johanna.

This one is more for fun, but let's analyze Kit Marlowe. I'll get the obvious out of the way, but there's a slim chance Kit would even be looking in Emily's direction in the first place. If we bypass that, I feel like if we put these characters on a spectrum of hypothetical compatability, Kit would be somewhere in the middle. He and Emily have some similarities, but I feel like if they spent too long with each other, they'd butt heads often. Emily's clingy and Kit pushes people away. That's not very conducive to a good relationship. But they do have a shared interest in more macabre things and both see themselves as damned and irredeemable creatures.

If I'm being honest, the most likely outcome for this, provided Kit is willing to have relations with women in the first place, is a friends with benefits situation more than anything.

In fact, let's have fun. If we put Henry and Caius on a shelf and let Emily play the bachelorette, we have a very clear cut game of Fuck, Marry, Kill for her. None of the options are perfect like with most games of FMK, but if we really break it down, Emily would...

Fuck Kit, Marry Jace, Kill Anthony

But I feel like now is a good time to mention that at certain spots in Diplopia and Necrosis, you can see small influences and references to these other characters.

Emily mentioned a girl from Saint Valentina's that she lit the mattress of on fire. Her name was Clarissa and she "thought she was basically an angel" which is me referencing Clary, and Jace by proxy.

This one is more loose, but to a certain degree, on Caius' part, I feel like in his mind there's a certain "I'll steal you, Johanna" element to how he feels when first meeting Emily. You can take that as you wish, but Johanna was the first "Every Breath You Take" regardless of who's singing it, iconic and adorable as that scene is.

Lastly, this is moreso in Necrosis, but I very specifically call out how in one scene Caius is wearing a black dress pants and a black Elizabethan blouse that was open in the front with his hair slightly wavy and touching his shoulders. This is me describing Kit Marlowe in essence, specifically that scene when he's talking to Will about ambitions and then they kiss (jcbbby would know what scene I mean for sure). Frankly, the Twilight budget was strained when it came to wigs, especially in Breaking Dawn for the Volturi, but to me, if you made Kit's hair Targaryen silver-blonde and he had the red eyes of course, that's my ideal Caius, full stop.

In a few ways I tried to make Diplopia/Necrosis a sort of melting pot for Jamie characters, some elements more subtle than the others, so if you really think about it Emily gets to have all these characters.

And all of this is without mentioning the fact that Emily is also attracted to women, but that's a conversation for another day.

***

Phew, that was a lot! Thanks for the ask and I hope this isn't too exhaustive of a read!

#let's see i think this took me about three hours or so to complete #fishgills speaks #asks #oc asks #writing asks #stranger things oc #twilight oc #fishgills on diplopia #beloved mutuals #my inbox is open

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revelinginthedarkrooms · 2 years

Text

Would You Smooch a Killer Robot? [X] Heck Yes - Chapter 8

Notes: Surprise, bitch. Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me!

This is the unfortunate end of this particular book, but I'm utterly down to clown with more books of a similar caliber in the future (including a book of smut-shots about your romps with the animatronics of SB, yes, including the time Monty learned how to sext). For now, though, there won't be more daily updates. Gotta give the ol' smut goggles a chance to collect some more dust!

And to those of you who wanted Map Bot for the memes... you drove me to this /s

CONTENT WARNING: Brief kidnapping scene by... guess who lmao

CHAPTER 8 (BONUS): Mapping Out the Rabbit Hole

You just couldn’t help yourself.

It wasn’t long before you begged Vanessa to sneak you in again, and to your surprise, she was a lot more willing to do so this time around. You had excitedly gotten into her car, dressed for the occasion in a nice dress and knee-high socks with sneakers.

The animatronics had been messaging you almost every night, some more sweetly than others (you still felt saucy about the time you sent a panty pic and got a voice note of Monty’s guttural moans, now that was some whack material let me tell you), telling you they couldn’t wait for you to visit. You hated to disappoint (plus you definitely didn’t mind getting a good dicking again as a reward for working hard at your job).

As soon as you got into the pizzaplex, you headed straight for Rockstar Row, bag bouncing on your hip. You barely waited long enough to tell Vanessa goodbye, giggling and running right for the escalators.

Getting to the robots’ rooms was a piece of cake. Finding them, however, was the hard part.

“Where the hell is everyone?” You huffed, smoothing down your skirt. “C’mon, guys, I wore lingerie for this!”

Nobody answered.

You tried to look into their rooms through the glass, but the curtains were all drawn. Even Freddy’s, much to your disappointment.

You rolled your eyes and stalked off. “Fine, I’ll amuse myself with something else,” you muttered.

You went to the elevators and sighed, pressing the button to get you going.

As soon as the elevator stopped and opened, you were ambushed by a robot.

“Take a map,” its monotonous voice droned, shoving a map into your chest. “Free map.”

You eyed the robot and its hands as you took the map from its lukewarm hand. I wonder…

The last time you'd been to the mall, the little robot had intrigued you with its relentless map charity. Though it wasn't that appealing looks-wise, it was simple and sleek, and it looked like it had very nice hands.

No, (y/n), your brain scolded. This is a literal robot. Don’t do it. Do not fuck the robot.

Y’know what? You straightened up, grinning at the robot. I’m gonna try to fuck the robot.

It continued to watch you as you pulled your skirt up, exposing lacy panties decorated with sheer mesh and cute little bows at the sides.

“Hey, bud,” you cooed. “Can you do something for me?”

But it just stared at you.

Silence settled between you two for several long, awkward seconds before you dropped the bottom hem of your skirt, feeling somewhat ashamed.

“What the fuck am I doing,” you sighed. “You aren’t even sentient. This isn’t fun, it’s sad. I’m sad.”

Dejected, you turned to walk away.

The sudden sound of the bot being pushed away (it humorously said “Ow”) made you start to turn curiously, when someone tackled you from behind.

Your head hit the floor with a painful smack, and you cried out in pain as someone pressed a knife to your neck.

“Nighty-night,” a heavily-distorted, vaguely-familiar breathy voice cooed into your ear as someone’s weight pressed into your back.

You awoke, cold, with a splitting headache and a strange feeling in your gut who-knows-how-long later, your cheek against something.

You groaned, and the pain sent a sharp twinge through your skull. Lifting your heavy head, you blinked blearily at your dark surroundings.

Where the fuck am I?

You seemed to be in a room with neon lighting along one side belonging to an exit sign above a door. The word ‘VANNY’ was scrawled along one wall, you noted as you craned your neck to look up. Whatever you were lying on, it was incredibly soft and smelled vaguely of… something. To your discomfort, your bag was nowhere to be seen.

Blinking, you turned to look at the arcade cabinet next to the bed with a furrowed brow. What the fuck? The creep lives here?!

You shifted your body and the feeling in your gut twisted. It felt familiar, yet…

You looked down to see your legs tied to pegs hammered into the wall. You attempted to move your arms, but they were tied too (presumably to pegs in the opposite wall). What kind of sicko knocked you out?

“Hello?” You called, wiggling despite the weight in your belly. “Ayo, if you’re still here, fuckin’ say something!”

No answer.

Growling to yourself, you wiggled a little more. The ropes were sharp against your skin. “You’re totally ruining my night, you know! I didn’t come here to get knocked out by some psycho, I came to get some DICK!”

You paused. Then you added, “And some pussy! I’m not one to judge!”

Sighing, you settled into the pillow. For some reason, you could smell arousal in the air - you didn’t think it was from you, but you had been pretty excited to get to your activities earlier.

The weight in the pit of your stomach was getting harder to ignore, too. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you had something inside of you.

Closing your eyes, you decided just to go back to sleep. Hopefully either whoever took you would let you go or one of the bots would come rescue you.

I just hope they aren’t too worried, you fretted as you tried your best to get comfortable.

You don’t know how long you drifted off for, but you awoke slowly to the sound of heavy breathing in the room with you.

Your heart picked up its pace, yet you didn’t open your eyes. The breathing sounded feminine, yet it was distorted - holy shit, the same person that knocked you out!

Be calm, (y/n), you told yourself, attempting to calm your breathing. Don’t rush to act. You have no idea if they’re gonna murder you or not.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a feminine whine. “Oh fuck… nnnn…”

Are they fucking jacking it right now? Your face had to be burning with the rate you were turning red.

Briefly, you thought of attempting to call Vanessa, but when you turned your arm slightly, you realized with mounting horror that you couldn’t feel your Fazwatch.

“Mmmm… (y/n)...” her breathy voice whimpered, along with the telltale ‘shlick shlick shlick’ of someone going to town on their downstairs neighbor.

A hand caressed your face and you flinched at the touch.

Immediately, the person stopped, cooing, “Wake up, princess…”

The hand on your cheek turned firm as they gripped you, attempting to shake you. Your head was thankfully not pounding anymore, but shaking worsened the distant pain enough to where you opened your eyes, staring up into glowing red ones.

A grinning rabbit mask greeted you, mismatched patches stitched along the sides. The ears hung over the front, and it seemed to stop right where her head met her neck.

Waving coyly at you, she gestured to where she was two knuckles deep in her own pussy, her body glistening with sweat in the dim light. One hand was covered in some kind of cartoony glove, while the other was bare.

“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up,” she giggled, tracing your cheekbone with her gloved thumb. “You drove me so crazy in that dress that I just had to snatch you away!”

“Who the hell are you and why are you keeping me from getting some serious robo-cock tonight?” You demanded.

She laughed at that, distorted laughter that sent a shiver up your back. “Oh, silly girl, you’ve already had some dick!”

“Huh?” You squinted before moving your hips. And then you realized what the pressure in your gut was.

“You… using my own strap against me?” You barked a laugh. “Clever, white rabbit! But I'm late for a very important date, so if you wouldn't mind...”

She watched as you flexed your hands, the mask’s creepy smile hiding the manic smirk on her face.

“I’ve been watching,” she cooed. “Watching you.”

“Weird flex, but okay.” You raised an eyebrow.

“He told me to select one, but… but you are not the one,” her voice grew more confused as she shook her head. “I feel something… strong, for you. Something that I would never normally tell you.”

“You want to fuck me, right?” You deadpanned.

“I-- what?” She seemed taken-aback, leaning back in her chair.

“Strong feelings that you wouldn’t normally tell me, the fact that when I woke up you were yanking the crank, plus the fact that I’m tied up right now with my own dildo inside of me?” You tugged on your arms for emphasis. “C’mon, bunny girl. Just admit you think I’m hot.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be so… forward with it,” she admitted.

“Lady, I have had one hell of a time in this mall.” You heaved a sigh. “Had pizza with and then fucked a robotic chicken, played golf with and got chased and ultimately dicked down by an alligator, got fingerfucked and dicked down with my own strap by a wolf girl, got to play in the arcade and got dicked by Freddy in a photo booth.” You paused, and then raised an eyebrow. “That’s not even mentioning the weird sun and moon guy, because that is all kinds of fucked and kinky and that’s a longer story for another time.”

“I know,” she replied. “I watched you through all of that.”

“Okay, so…?” You shrugged the best you could with your arms tied above your head. “Are you gonna get to the fucking, or…?”

She paused. Probably blinked, though the mask hid anything. You could feel the incredulity.

You just watched her with your brows raised.

“Aren’t you scared?” She finally questioned.

“I was at first, but then I realized I was still in the mall and just tied up in a really kinky way.” You huffed a laugh. “To be honest, the kink outweighs the fear.”

“You really are a freak,” she uttered quietly.

“Comes with the job description, sweetheart.” You winked and gestured with your chin. “C’mon, I’ll pretend if it helps you get your rocks off.”

Shaking her head, she got up from the chair and knelt over you, both legs on either side of your hips. Her naked hand was still wet and sticky, and she smelled strongly of arousal, one that sent a pulse to your own heat and goosebumps spreading across your exposed skin. You bit your lip as her naked body ground against yours, the skirt of your dress riding up your stomach.

She cupped her cheek with her gloved hand and trailed the fingers of her other down your belly, stopping at the fabric of your lingerie. She grabbed the little ribbon at the side and tugged at the end, unraveling it and pulling it away from your body.

You shivered in anticipation, raking your gaze up and down. She was gloriously bare and deliciously smooth, little freckles kissing her shoulders and trailing down the valley of her breasts, which looked firm.

“I hate that I can’t kiss you like this,” her voice was breathy and full of desire, “but I can more than make up for it in other ways…~”

She firmly grasped the blunt end of the dildo and with one motion yanked it out of your core, making you moan at the sudden loss. You felt emptier now, your pussy squeezing on nothing as she teased you by waving it in front of you.

The shaft was still sticky with your own arousal, and you watched with interest as she trailed it down between her boobs and down her stomach, before teasing at her own lower lips with the head. With a strangled moan, she shoved it into herself and began bouncing up and down as if on the real thing.

“Fuck, you’re really gonna leave me high and dry?” You groaned, licking your lips as she squeezed her own boobs together.

“”I’m only getting started with the fun,” she answered, and with a giggle she leaned in to rest her forearms on either side of your head so that the ridiculous rabbit mask was right in front of you and obscuring your view.

You huffed. “And here I thought I’d get dinner and a show.”

“How lewd!” Bunny lady-- well, you decided to call her Vanny, gasped as the toy hit another spot inside.

“I try,” you snarked.

She hopped up and down on the toy a few more times - and came with a breathy moan, resting her masked face on your shoulder.

You awkwardly pretended to pat her on the back, cursing more than ever that you were tied back. You waited until she stopped panting before asking, “So… you gonna untie me now?”

“No,” she sighed, finally having caught her breath. “Not quite yet.”

She sat up and pulled the toy out, hissing at the sensation, before setting it aside and crawling up to where her pussy was in your face.

Fucking finally, you thought as she lowered herself onto your mouth.

“Make it good and I’ll consider getting you to cum fairly quick,” she ordered, a thrill of excitement in her voice.

“Ma’am yes ma’am,” you dutifully replied and tenderly pressed your lips to hers in a deep kiss. She shuddered, bracing herself against the wall as your tongue darted out to swirl around her pearl before plunging inside of her.

Vanny began to rock back and forth against your mouth, letting out cute little whimpers as you tongue-fucked her. “Aah, yes…! (y/n), princess, baby…”

A spark of pleasure shot through you at her words, and you pressed your tongue flat against a spongy spot inside that made her whole lower half twitch. “Ah!”

Jackpot. You could have smirked as you continued to assault that spot, giving it kitten licks before outright massaging it with your tongue. All the while, the woman above you continued to quiver and cry, clenching her fists against the wall and thrusting her hips against your face.

“(y/n),” she was moaning, her breath hitching as she felt her release building, “(y/n)--!”

With a wail, she came, and you felt her walls close around you, pulsing with her orgasm as you tasted the slightly-sweet liquid of victory.

You lapped at her folds until she finally mustered the strength to get off of you. For a split-second, you thought you saw a mole on the tender flesh of her left inner thigh, but you brushed it off as a trick of the light.

“Aw, is that it?” You pouted, strings of translucent liquid clinging to your flushed lips.

She was still panting for breath as she poked your nose with her finger. “That was pretty good, good job.”

You watched as she climbed off the bed and harnessed the strapon to her hips. Once she was confident that it was secure, she knelt back down before you, gripping your hip with one hand and caressing the flesh with her thumb before guiding the toy to your entrance once more.

“Fuck yes,” you hissed, as you felt the head tease you open. “I’m so ready for this.”

“I’m going to fuck you,” her voice was oddly chipper as she squeezed the meat of your hip. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget all about those silly robots.”

“I dare you to try.” You flashed her a smirk with half-lidded eyes gazing directly into hers. Er, the mask’s.

With a giggle, she pushed in, and you leaned your head back and groaned, low and guttural.

“I bet you’re so tight,” Vanny teased. “Even though you had this toy inside of you for so long… the noises you’re making down here, you’re so wet I bet you could take two with no problem.”

“Don’t, aah fuck, don’t give me any more ideas,” you keened, arching against the blankets. “You’d like to see that, wouldn’t you? Mmh~”

“I would be stuck at my monitor for hours just watching you,” she replied. Her tone took on a more sultry note as she pressed her thumb against your clit and watched you squirm. “Having Monty and Freddy at once… that would be so exciting. I can’t decide if they would double-team your pussy or have one in your ass.”

“Either way, I am fucking down,” you let out a shaky laugh. “As soon as you untie me, of course.”

“Oh, (y/n),” she cooed. “Why would I ever let you go?”

Gee, that sounds familiar, you thought to yourself as you glanced over at the large window at the other side of the room. I wonder where Vanessa is. Surely she must have alerted the bots by now, right? Maybe they’re still looking for me.

A hand lightly slapping your cheek brought you back to the present, gut-churning arousal coursing through your body. Vanny brought your face back around to look up at her as she chided, “Hey, eyes on me.”

Something about the phrase sounded similar to what Vanessa used to say, but you brushed it off. Lots of people say that.

“I can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner,” Vanny giggled, spreading your legs a little wider apart. “I had to be so careful… but now I have you!”

“You’re so fucking good at this,” you moaned. “How are you so good at this?”

“Let’s say I have a lot of experience.”

Experience well earned, you thought in your foggy brain. There was nothing quite like having another human, and despite your undeniable thirst for the robots you had to admit a woman in a rabbit costume domming you was really hot. Granted, the mask was rather creepy, and her voice was strangely glitchy, but she was sexy.

You looked back down at her legs curiously, and sure enough - there was a mole on her left thigh.

“Oh,” she quietly hissed as your body jolted again from the electricity, “I want to make you scream. You’ll scream so loud they’ll hear you in Parts and Services!”

With that declaration still fresh, she aimed for your own sweet spot, and simultaneously her thrusts got faster. You cried and tugged at your bindings as the pleasure made your toes curl.

She reveled in it, towering over you as you let loose a scream when she pressed into your clit hard.

“Doesn’t this feel better than a robot?” She teased into your ear. “The warmth of another person can’t compare…”

“Still weighing-- my options,” you jested, sharply gasping at the pressure in your gut. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum…”

“Do it!” She ordered, gripping your hip as the wet slapping of hips against ass became louder.

The pressure became tighter and tighter and tighter, the arousal building in your core…

… and it absolutely exploded.

Your orgasm hit you like a brick wall, making you scream to kingdom come as fireworks exploded before your very eyes, your body burning hot and sensitive to her touch as she slammed in as far as she could go. Vanny held you down as you writhed and squirmed against her bed and squirted across her stomach.

As the embers of arousal licking at your very being began to die down and you slumped, boneless, to the bedding, Vanny pulled out - and marveled at the slick wetness coating the toy.

“Wow, Princess,” she giggled mischievously as she got up from the bed. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“I have been…” you tiredly panted, “...really… really… pent-up.”

You tiredly watched as she pulled the straps down her legs before depositing the toy on a pile of clothes next to the bed. Then, her weight dipping back into the blankets, she rested herself atop you, curling up into your side.

Her fingertips traced about your skin, from your neck to the edges of your cheekbones, and you closed your eyes as she began to stroke through your hair, her nails digging nicely into your scalp.

“Are you gonna let me go now?” You asked quietly, turning your head with a yawn.

“We’ll see,” she mysteriously replied.

Well, there were worse ways to spend after sex. You settled in as another chill racked your body, alleviated somewhat by the weird rabbit woman’s own radiating heat.

“(y/n)...”

You felt groggy and bogged-down as you came back to awareness, strange enough due to the lack of anything holding you down.

“(y/n), sugar…”

A sweet, feminine voice followed a warm hand cupping your cheek, and as you leaned into the touch, you heard murmuring around you.

Have I died and gone to a better place? You briefly wondered. Then you had to laugh to yourself. Wait, who am I kidding?

“I think she’s waking up,” one of the voices that had been infused into your wildest dreams added.

Not dead, just in the Pizzaplex, you decided, and took that moment to try and open your eyes.

As your eyelashes fluttered and you cracked your eyes open, the dim lighting making it easier, you noticed the animatronics crowded around you with worried expressions.

“Hey, look who decided to join the land of the living,” Monty tried to joke, peering down at you over his shades as Chica helped you up. “You good, sha?”

“I feel like a puddle of goo,” you tiredly answered, smiling up at Chica as she knelt over you. “I don’t suppose one of you has a kiss to help me feel better?”

The robotic chicken giggled, shaking her head as she leaned in and nuzzled your cheek. “You had us so worried, cupcake.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Roxy groused, arms folded, but you could hear the worry in her voice as she looked over at you.

“What happened after I conked out?” You questioned, looking around the half-circle.

The animatronics hesitated, looking from one to the other. Finally, Freddy spoke up. “The daycare attendant was able to find you at the top of the hour, locked in a room above Fazer Blast. He found Vanessa and helped to bring you back down.”

“Yeah,” Chica added a little hesitantly, glancing up at him before coming back to you. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t come to get you, (y/n). We were looking and looking… but we just couldn’t find you.”

“Believe me, I wouldn’t have found me either,” you joked, and that seemed to rouse a few chuckles from the group. “Nah, but seriously, what happened to the weird rabbit lady that kidnapped me?”

Freddy paused. Chica’s eyes grew wide. Monty looked away, a twisting expression on his face. Roxy’s frown intensified and she looked directly at you.

“Rabbit… lady?” Freddy questioned, his voice strange and sad. “There is no rabbit here. …not anymore.”

“I knew that,” you retorted with a confused frown as you looked down at your wrist. Good, the watch was back. “But… she had a homemade-looking costume and everything. That was apparently her room I was staying in.”

“I know what you’re talking about,” Roxy abruptly chimed in, making the others stare at her. “I’ve seen her before.”

“Thank God, I’m not suddenly going crazy or anything!” You breathed. “Where’d she go?”

“I don’t know.” Her shoulders slumped minutely and she scowled at the ground. “She makes sure she’s never directly in my line of sight, but I have noticed her prowling around here.”

Your eyes softened, and you reached for her. She seemed to notice and leaned in as your hand brushed her cheek, and her tail swished.

“Well,” Freddy spoke up. “It is only three-twelve. We still have time to catch up.”

Like a switch, his words seemed to change the others’ demeanors. Monty’s sullen look was replaced as he looked back to you. Roxy’s eyes narrowed and she reached up to grasp your hand in hers, robotic fingers closing around yours. Chica’s brace against your back turned into a squeeze around your shoulders.

You had to laugh. “I feel pretty fucked-out, but y’know what? I’m down.”

You didn’t get to see Vanessa again until she came to pick you up from Roxy’s room at the end of her shift, where she got to see the two of you sitting together, you in the wolf girl’s lap, with her tail wrapped around your waist.

Your friend appeared tired as hell, but she attempted a smile at you as she gestured to the door. “Time to go.”

“Aw, okay,” you sighed. Tapping Roxy’s forearms, you pressed your cheek to hers. “I’ll come back to visit soon,” you promised.

“You’d better.” Her tone seemed grumpy, but you could see the affection in her eyes as she nuzzled you once more before letting you get up.

You followed Vanessa on shaky legs to the door, but your knees buckled as soon as you reached the threshold, and she paused to help you up. Taking on some of your weight by letting you wrap an arm around her shoulder, she led you out.

You waved to the animatronics as you passed their rooms and headed to the stairs.

“Sounds like you had quite the night without me,” she said, half in jest.

“Sorry to cause so much trouble.” You huffed out a laugh, resting your head against her shoulder.

“No, it’s my fault for not noticing any intruders.” She sighed harshly, adjusting your arm around her shoulder and allowing you to catch a whiff of fresh perfume on her person. “You’re okay?”

“Better than okay.” You smiled in satisfaction as the crisp morning air hit you and you shivered. “Hey, what happened to the robots?”

“Something… someone, actually, messed with their code,” she answered with a frown as she glanced back at the building. “I found them all in Parts and Services, just standing around with… weird purple, glowing eyes.”

“Parts and Services, huh…” you muttered, the assailant’s words coming back to you.

She glanced over at you next, brow knit together, as she unlocked her car and helped you into the passenger seat. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah…” you yawned into the crook of your elbow as she buckled you in. “Hey… just curious… what do I owe you for this time?”

She stared at you, surprised, before shaking her head. “This one’s a free pass.”

“Sweet.” You smiled up at her. “Thanks, Ness.”

Her answering expression was a tight smile and eyes swarming with doubts as she shut the car door.

A mole on the inner thigh… you thought dazedly as you closed your eyes, the shifting of the car barely registering as your cheek pressed against the window.

What were you really doing…? The thought nagged at you even as the car started and Vanessa began to drive off.

Once you were out of the parking lot, her voice, low and tired, roused you from your light dozing. “Do you want to get rested up and then go for brunch? My treat this time.”

It took you a moment to answer. When you cracked open one eye and smiled sleepily at her, you murmured, “That sounds awesome.”

#fnaf #fnaf x female reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf security breach #security breach #security breach x female reader #security breach x reader #crack treated seriously #smut #vanny #vanny x female reader #vanny x reader #map bot #map bot x female reader #map bot x reader #lmao sike #tw: kidnapping #tw: somnophilia

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strshn · 2 years

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I haven't posted in so so so long. but I promise you it's a good thing. I honestly almost forgot I had this blog lmao. things have gotten so much better! are they as good as I want them to be? of course not. but it's the best they've been literally ever. I still struggle a ton but idk. things are just so different...

my 4 year anniversary with my boyfriend is coming up. how insane is that??? I've waited and yearned and begged my whole life for love, and I am trying my best to never take it for granted, not even for a second. I am so lucky to have him by my side.

I've come out to people irl... IN. REAL. LIFE. I go by my preferred name and pronouns to my bf, my friends, I even told my mom this past weekend and it's been nothing but support. tbf I have only told people that I know will be supportive, but still. it feels amazing, and freeing in a way I could have never guessed.

I'm off my meds. all of them. have been for I think almost 2 years now. ditched therapy too. and I'm not saying it's a good thing, I do wish I had some support in the way of a therapist, and maybe some meds would make things even better but idk I've been coping on my own. somehow lol. it's hard and I get exhausted very easily and I so very much wish I could do more on a daily basis but I do what I can, and I forgive myself for not being able to do more. I praise myself for what I can accomplish, even if it's minimal. I cook, I clean, I take care of our cats. I get so tired so easily but... I'm doing more now than I ever did on meds, and frankly it's so fucking strange.

is life hard? absolutely. but I've grown and changed and things are different but also better. my bpd is almost like an afterthought? yes I still experience symptoms. but idk. it's not the same as it was. maybe because I'm happy and secure in my relationship, it's a long term commitment. I have in the back of my mind that it could still end up going terribly wrong, but I don't dwell on it like younger me probably would have. I have bad days, sure. depression isn't gonna go away. and neither will anxiety or ADHD. probably have autism too but I haven't really gotten into that rabbit hole yet.

but idk. I'm just glad to be doing okay. and not having the extreme moods like I used to. do I still hate myself and want to unalive myself from time to time? of course! but. it's more like "I'm tired and the world sucks and I'm sick of working myself to death and still not having enough money to survive can this please end already" which I think is reasonable and a lot of ppl feel that way. the world does suck. but I keep going for my cats and my boyfriend. idk it all sucks but I know there is nothing else to do.

I sleep a lot. I'm tired a lot. I have some physical ailments I need to get fixed. mentally idk. it's just a strange time for me. I'm able to just ignore my shit most of the time, or when I can't, I cry it out and take a nap and try to tell myself that I can keep going, and I will be okay. even if maybe it isn't true, I mean who knows.

I stream on twitch sometimes. I'm working on finding good friends. I'm working on officially coming out. I'm working on getting better at makeup and hair. I'm working on trying to figure out how to write again. Overall, I'm working on being exactly who I want to be. and it feels awesome.

I know this page is usually depressing. I've had a rough life and need somewhere to vent. at least this one time I can vent about how good I am beginning to feel. how good my life has turned out to be even if I still struggle a lot of days, especially financially I struggle a ton. but I'm still here and more queer than ever lol. and I'm doing all right.

I always used to see "it gets better" posts and I half wanted to believe them and half told myself it would never ever happen for me. maybe everyone else but never me... well it's happened for me. it is still happening, tbh. every day things are looking up, even the days where I feel down. it's, at the very least, not the same as it used to be. and I'll take anything over the heart-wrenching emotions I used to feel daily. the mood swings, the obsessions, the infatuations, the utter hopelessness of everyday life for me was so overwhelming. I'm glad it has toned down for me, and thing have changed. and that things are even slightly better.

I have no outlook or expectations for the future. but I think that's for the best. I have things I want to do here and now, and I'll worry about the rest later. I'm just happy I'm finally becoming who I want to be, and I'm happy I have any amount of happiness and love in my life. that's all I ever wanted, love. and I think I have it! so don't be so glum, younger me, or anyone out there reading this that can relate to how I used to think and act and feel. it will be okay. and as cliche as it is, it will get better. or at the very least, things will change with time. things will not stay the same, things will evolve and change and mutate and metamorphosize. things will change, the future will be different. and idk that just gives me hope, that I won't be stuck in one place or one feeling or one rut forever.

the future is open and a mystery, flow into it and go along with it. it will be worth it to see the world, and your self, in a different light.

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supertunanana · 2 years

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One strange “narrative” I see in the fandom, is that people who like Jikook (whatever their relationship may be) tend not to be JK biased, at least not initially. One, I think that’s overreaching since no one has ever done a legitimate survey of this, and two, how?

I came into this fandom VERY Jungkook biased. My shallow, little self may not have even fallen down the rabbit hole if not for me finding him hot in the MIC Drop video and then being unable to figure out which member he was for like TWO hours (most pictures he’s got his cute little doe-eyed, bunny face and that does not compute if he you see him with his “stage demon” face. I honestly thought he was Jin for like 15 minutes - I think I had to process of elimination the other members in the video to FINALLY figure it out, lol - and once you’ve spent 2 hours watching BTS content, it’s pretty much impossible not to fall in love with all of them).

I’m STILL very JK biased. He honestly reminds me a LOT of myself. I GET him. I get the shyness, the awkwardness in social situations, the competitiveness, the “good at anything if you apply yourself, but you have to care first”-ness. Of all the members, I think he and I are the most alike, mentally. Plus, as someone who is gray-asexual, he basically put the “gray” in front of that, lol. So, he’s got a special place in my heart.

Jimin - Jimin was a slow burn, but how could I not notice him? As I was consuming JK content those first few months, Jimin was always just THERE. Being sweet, being playful, being, well, the most adorable little mochi-koala ever. How could I not notice Jimin? Plus, he made me like JK even more! Their relationship showed JK’s caring side, his ability to be there for someone, to watch closely for someone’s mental and emotional well being and anticipate and be ready to help. JK might do a lot of physicals things for his hyungs, but he’s VERY tuned into Jimin’s emotional state and it’s a beautiful thing. I think Jimin made him a better person. And I adore the fact that while Jimin looks out for the emotional state of Bangtan, he has JK to look out for his.

In the end, I now double bias them, because Jimin is beautiful and kind and fierce and I cannot not adore him (sometimes I love him more than JK, shhh, don’t tell, lol). And I may have gotten there eventually, but I first noticed him because JK noticed him. So, it doesn’t compute for me how people can stan JK and not love Jimin to some degree!

I also think this is why Jin is my bias-wrecker, he’s another person who has a very special relationship with JK... I mean, I LOVE both Jin and Jimin on their own, but I first noticed them with how they interacted with my initial bias. To this day, one of my fave things is when JK acts in a VERY OBVIOUSLY Jin way, because it shows how much Jin helped raise the kid (or when JK is the only one to play with Jin in the same way - it’s so endearing). I love, love, love seeing it. It makes me so happy. Again, I love my chaos trio, regardless of how they interact with each other, I don’t NEED JK to notice any of them, put them together and it’s comedy gold, but JK got me there originally.

#me #jimin #jungkook #jin #jikook #my babble #chaos trio

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liam-93-productions · 3 years

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Liam’s full interview with Tings Magazine - Part 1

Note: the interview was recorded in may 2020.

Justin Campbell: What is the weirdest YouTube/Instagram trend hole that you’ve fallen into? Liam: One that always gets me is putting Mentos in Pepsi or Coke. We all know what happens, but we have to watch the ending. I’ve seen it about fifty times, and it doesn’t change. But it’s weird finding out what things are interesting when you’re stuck inside. It’s a crazy ride watching the world react to this. It’s almost like everybody’s become a street performer. You see these people on the street who have a special skill like magic and the internet is now the place for that and everybody does it.

Do you feel pressured to participate? Is there currency in that? Does that keep you relevant? I think artists have had to change a lot to fit in. There used to be mystery where you didn’t know too much about their lives, whereas we are in my living room now for all the world to see. I think that’s the biggest change of these newer platforms. I think you have to join in if you want to stay relevant. If you look at someone like Jason Derulo, he has 19 million followers on TikTok and he just started. His old songs are re-charting because of the TikTok chart. So, you can’t just make music and expect it to go well anymore. There has to be a personality and a story. It’s not quite the same anymore.

There’s so many differente avenues to keep up with. There’s Instagram, YouTube, TikTok. It used to be you did radio, tours and late-night television. Now there seem to be a dozen things to do. It’s crazy, this last promo schedule for me, having to do it indoors. I had to learn how to do a bunch of different jobs for the people that couldn’t be here. We put up a green screen in my lounge. We moved all the sofas, me and the camera guy that is staying with me set up the green screen and then you have to film it as well. It’s just crazy the amount of different things that you have to get involved in right now to stay relevant. And that’s all it is. The majority of the stuff isn’t really doing anything, but it’s doing loads at the same time if that makes sense. It’s a difficult thing to get used. And also, things have gotten jovial. So, you have to learn to make fun of ourselves. You can’t be Mr. Serious pop-star anymore. People aren’t really attracted to that anymore. People like the fun side of you, your personality and your humor come through on these things. It’s crazy. I thought about when I joined TikTok the other week, there’s a pressure to film something fun. But then if you are not having fun filming it, you’re not going to film a fun video. And I didn’t want to live my life every day thinking I got to film a video or nobody is going to care. I spent an hour trying to think of stuff and I don’t want to live my life like this. I enjoy then. I like going on TikTok and getting lost in a little TikTok rabbit hole, we all do, but I don’t know if I’m that way inclined mentally.

With the need to share more, to share a comedic side or a vulnerable side, where do you draw the line? When do you stop sharing? How much of it is constructed sharing and how much of it is authentic sharing? It’s difficult. I’m very prone to enjoy a moment rather than take my camera out and film it. I’m always one of those people who take a picture of a sunset and then never look at it and say why did I bother taking the picture. I’d rather enjoy the moment. We live in a day and age where the camera phone is people’s first thought for things. And I’m just not one of those people. Humorous stuff will happen and it will be off the cuff, but we didn’t film it. And it will be like “aw, should we recreate it?” But we don’t want to recreate it. It just feels stupid. It always feels forced in that sense. So for me, I definitely struggle with sharing moments. And you have those people out there, who are literally willing to do anything. There’s a trend for people who are shaving their eyebrows off at the moment. I’m not going to shave my eyebrows off so people will care a little more. That just doesn’t register with me. You have Jake and Logan Paul, who do a lot of crazy, crazy things to get noticed. And it’s like where do you draw the line.

These platforms make it challenging to carve out a private life. People expect more and more of celebrities’ lives to be shared. They feel they have ownership of every aspect of people’s lives. What are your thoughts on that? From the start of this lockdown, the first James Corden TV performance was filmed in the lounge and we went through my whole house. I can remember back in the day when a newspaper sent out the photos of my house. I don’t like people knowing where I sleep because it’s a security problem for me. I had a big complaint about that. Now fast forward 5-6 years and the world has changed to where nothing is really a private or intimate moment. It’s strange. As One Direction, we were in an era on the rise of Twitter. I think Twitter helped us a lot. It was the way we trended on Twitter that actually made us famous. But being on the cusp of that internet stardom, we didn’t really care about how many followers [we had]. Now, it’s become a currency. I just struggle to take those things seriously, that it is part of the job because it feels so foreign. When we had apps as kids, there was no way to becoming MSN famous. Now kids want to be an Instagrammer or a TikTokker. It’s crazy. We never had that.

You said something about people chasing the currency of liked and follows. Kids are thinking about that validation when they are creating content. How much of that are you thinking about it when you create music or social media/video content? I think, for me, I don’t often pay attention to how many likes thing gets. As a pop star, you have to have an average amount per post. We have to have meetings now where people will go through posts, and tell you why this works. Which for me, it seems insane, but you have this persona that you have to keep up online. And definitely, when posting certain things, you are gauging whether it’s going to get a reaction or there’s no point in posting it. And that’s always been the problem for me. I’m hoping for a big reaction for stuff which limits the amount you post because you think there’s no point posting this. Often the people who do the best in these scenarios are the people that didn’t mean for it to happen. Someone makes a little challenge like The Ice Bucket Challenge. Someone thought I’ll do this. It will be fun for us to film and because they are having fun, everyone is like we will get involved. If you think about it too much, it will overtake you. For the longest time, I didn’t post a lot. I got off of Twitter because of the backlash and the fact that you are always going to annoy someone with a post. I was like, I can’t deal with it. I might as well keep it to myself. There’s no disappointment.

I think that’s part of the condition of being an artist. You crave a certain amount of validation. When it’s work, you can take that some people won’t get it. But because everything has become so personal now like it’s about you. You sell your personality to people. It’s like if someone asks you “what five things do you want people to know about you”. And everyone goes, well, I’d like to be... You suddenly think, what we are doing every day online is trying to sell ourselves. It’s a difficult balance. You have to have the right amount of humor and humility and the right amount of this. It’s so difficult to find that person. And you see people who become caricatures of themselves online. They overdo it. You don’t know what works any why it works. The internet is such an untested experiment. The public decides. It’s so crazy.

You just said that it can feel so personal, which I think is such an honest statement because when you are putting yourself out there, it is hard to celebrate the work and you. When people don’t like something, it can feel like they are personally attacking you. It genuinely scares me sometimes. Even to post a selfie, because you just don’t know what the recipe is. I’m not trying to impress anyone. I’m just trying to stay around if that makes sense. I don’t know, it’s difficult. The fact that you just let it go and it’s gone and people either take it or leave it. It’s like jumping on stage every time you post, which scares me anyway.

You’ve spoken pretty openly about dealing with depression and anxiety. How does this level of exposure impact your ability to manage your anxiety? Before all of this started, the first day of school would probably be when you are your most anxious. Or it’s your own clothes day and you don’t know what to wear. That feels like what everyone is going through every single day online. It’s like the teen generation has so many more questions to answer that we had. I know as a kid I was quite stressed. I can’t imagine how these kids feel these days. The only way I can relate is by how I feel in this scenario. Obviously, being a little bit older, you are a little wiser with it. I thinks it’s a different kind of pressure these days. It’s a worldwide pressure. The fact that anyone can become a superstar overnight or also the most embarrassing thing in the world and the line is that thin. I can’t imagine what is like for kids growing up in that scenario. For me, it’s raised a lot of questions about my mental health and having to deal with these things. I’ve been running a pilot with someone for people in my position, people who struggle with fame, with the position that they get themselves. You don’t really realize the playbook you’re pressing. Once you’re in it, you’re in it. I started from 14-16, were my two start years. And the only answer that people had for you was that you’ve got have thick skin. But I don’t think that’s really the point because once you are here, you have to find out if your skin is thick enough. You have to learn. For the longest time, if somebody wrote something about me in the press, I’d rise back up and bring back up. I didn’t realize they were trying to bait me out because they knew I’d do that. Then they’d write three more articles about the scenario that I didn’t want them to write about. You can only know that with years of experience. If something comes out now, I just leave it to die and go away and that’s it. I just think it’s difficult when people say the only answer is that you have to have thick skin to do this.

That’s not really a solution. That’s just saying you asked for this. This is just part of it, which I don’t think is fair. Is fame something that you struggle with a lot? For me, there’s different periods, severe highs with different things and a lot of questions about stuff. I’ve been going at this now for ten years, which seems insane. I’m only 26 as well, which is quite a long time to be doing anything. And to be in this pressure cooker for that long is quite difficult, but I say I’ve learned to deal with it better now. Age and time are wonderful things. And we were buffered as teens. We had each other in the band. When I look at someone like Justin Bieber, I think no wonder he went completely mental at some point because there is no one in the world that knows what is like to be Justin Bieber, but Justin Bieber. He had no one to share it with. We had each other to share it with, to remember it with and be reminded how to behave, how to act. You shouldn’t do that. It was tough at some points, but for the most part it was helpful growing up in that team exercise rather than be let off on your own and you’re the most famous person in the world. It must have been pretty crazy for him.

#liam payne #liam's interviews #tings magazine #05.11.2020

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lokis-army-77 · 3 years

Text

If You Please

Chapter twelve

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2588

This is technically a reader insert but without the (y/n) and all that. She also has no name mentioned so feel free to imagine as you please.

Follow the reader through the events of the Captain America movies and experience her love for Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: none

Note: Normally I am the type of person to be date accurate when writing things and if you are too, I'm sorry. I messed up on the dates, so the battle of New York happens like a month after it should. This is also a short chapter because it's a filler and I'm trying to just get to the Winter Soldier but have everything make sense.

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A few days later I had received a small archivist job in the WWII department of the Smithsonian. Thankfully the made-up resume and a few fake SHIELD recommendations came in handy. I would officially start the following week after a few background checks were cleared. In my free time until then, I unpacked all the boxes in my apartment. It started to feel more homely and warm when all of my things filled up the space. When I didn’t feel like unpacking anything, I started taking long walks to the VFW building. I hadn’t joined in on any of the meetings yet, I just stood by the doorway and watched, listening to the stories people told.

One day that week as I stood back in the hallway after the meeting had ended, a man came up to me. He was a little taller than I was and had the brightest smile I had ever seen. I had watched him in the meetings before, he was usually the one hosting them, giving advice to all who needed it.

“I’ve seen you standing out here for the past three days, why don’t you come have a seat next time? It would be more comfortable than standing out here for an hour.” He said as he leaned his back against the wall right next to me.

“I have thought about it, but I tend to get here after you have started. I don’t want to interrupt anything by just barging in.” I said over my shoulder at him.

“You won't interrupt anything, just come on in next time, we’d be happy to have a new face around,” He pushed himself off the wall and walked down the hall.

After that, I ended up joining the meetings and even spoke a few times. I learned that the man who came up to me that day was Sam Wilson, pararescue, who had served two tours in Afghanistan. From the first day he came up and talked to me to now, we quickly became friends.

The days had turned into weeks and I was finally able to live relatively by my own means. The Smithsonian was great, in the archives, no one was really around and I could spend a whole day without any interruptions, which allowed me to just concentrate on what I was doing. After closing, I normally walked to meet Sam, who was usually way too excited to see me, even though we saw each other almost every day without fail.

“You’re late today.” I jumped, startled out of my thoughts at the sound of someone talking to me. I looked up, spying Sam standing next to one of the small trees outside the VFW building.

“What do you mean late?”

“I mean you usually get here at three-thirty. It's four right now.” He said looking down at his watch.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize. I've just been lost in my thoughts lately.” I sighed.

“I know we’ve only been friends for what? A month? But I already know when something is bothering you, What is it?”

“Nothing really, just my brother. Since moving here he's called at least twice a week to check up but it’s been radio silence for the past two weeks, he doesn't even answer when I try calling him. I'm just a little worried that something bad is going on, considering his job.”

“Well, maybe he’s just really busy at the moment, or he's somewhere he can't call you. You know how it is being out on those military missions.”

“I know, it’s just the last time we were apart on a mission,” I trailed off and looked up at Sam, he raised his eyebrows, quietly waiting for the end of the sentence. “Someone close to us passed. It’s still fresh in my mind like it happened yesterday. I was there that day and I was too far away to even know what had happened, now my brother and I aren’t even in the same vicinity as each other, there is no telling what could happen and it makes me nervous.”

He gave me a small apologetic smile and patted my shoulder before leading me from the tree where we stood to where his car was parked. “What do you say we hang out at mine and just watch some tv? Get your mind off things? Or we can talk about it, either way, it’s better than dealing with it alone.” I nodded my head and grabbed onto the car door handle as he unlocked it.

Walking through the front door after him I took a quick look around. It was cozy, way more decorated than I thought it would be for a man in his early thirties living alone.

“Make yourself at home. Do you want anything to drink?” He asked neck-deep in the fridge.

“Okay, I’ll just have some water,” I called out as I made my way further into the living room. The couch was backed up to the wall a few feet away from the dining room table. I sat down on it and scooted as close as I could to its right arm. A few moments later Sam came over with two glasses of water and a bag of chips. He handed me my drink before crashing down into his own seat. “Thank you,” I said before taking a long sip.

He nodded as he said “No problem.” Before he got himself really comfortable he searched around for the TV remote. As he pressed the ‘on’ button the TV came to life. “What in the world is that?” He sounded concerned so I quickly looked at the screen.

“Breaking: Attack on New York City. This afternoon at 2:15 several unidentified aircraft descended onto Earth's surface. Strange beings, some are calling aliens, Accompanied these ships and are causing havoc in Manhattan. Eyewitnesses have stated that they have seen Iron Man, and what seemed to be Captain America, leading a team of three others fighting back against the invaders. The battle seems to be over but updates are still coming in, let's take a look at some footage of the downtown destruction.” My eyes went wide and my heart stopped as I listened to what the reporter was saying. I kept my eyes glued to the screen as it changed to show a destroyed street. As the camera panned around I spotted Steve fighting against two of the creatures, before the clip quickly changed to show one of the large ships crashing into the New York skyline.

“Oh God Steve, what did you get into?” I murmured to myself.

“You say that like you know him personally.”

“Uhh.” I just gave him a wide-eyed look of surprise. “I do, he’s my brother.”

“Now really isn’t the time to be joking about things,” He gave me a pointed look.

“I swear I’m not joking, he really is my brother. I can explain later, I need to try and get a hold of him.” I pulled out the small flip phone from my pocket and dialed the number for Steve's cell phone, it rang and rang but no answer. I hung up quickly and dialed the number Fury gave me at the beginning of the month. After two rings he answered.

“I assume you are looking for Captain Rogers.”

“Where is he? Is he okay?” I tried to keep the worried tone from coming through in my voice.

“He’s fine. He is in the middle of a debriefing. I’ll tell him you called.”

“Okay, thank you.” As soon as the words left my mouth he gave a quick hum and then hung up. I looked over at Sam whose eyes hadn't left me at all. “Everything is fine, he's in a debrief so that means that whatever happened in New York is definitely over.”

“That’s good to hear, hopefully, those things don’t try to come back again.” He shook like a shiver ran down his spine. “Now please explain how Captain America, a man from the 1940s, is your brother.”

“I can hear the skepticism in your voice.”

He held his hands up in defense, “Hey, I'm not the one saying I'm the sister to a 90 something-year-old man.”

“Look, it’s a long story that I would rather not get into now but the short version is that I was born in 1921, Steve is my older brother, we both ended up taking the super-soldier serum and fought against HYDRA in the second world war. We ended up crashing a plane into some Ice in the Atlantic ocean and were found and unfrozen last October.” “If you are really Captain America’s sister, then why are you never mentioned in anything?” I looked at him and shook my head.

“Well for starters it was the forties and I was a woman fighting on the front lines. Credit is never given where it is due. But there is also the fact that I was a part of the SSR, which was very secretive, after I died.” I put my fingers up in air quotes, “They should have erased most, if not all the files on me, per protocol. The only reason Steve is well known is because of his time going cross country selling war bonds.” I paused for a second before quickly adding, “I’m sure if you look hard enough, you’ll find me in the history books somewhere.”

Sam just sat there not really saying anything. This was the first time I think he had ever been quiet for more than five seconds. I let out a deep sigh and stood, grabbing my bag from the floor. “Thanks for having me over, but I think I need to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stood and walked me to the door.

“Don’t be late. I’ll see you.” Sam waved me off and I headed down the street.

About half a year later while sorting through some archive files, I came across Peggy Carter. I felt a pang in my heart as I stared at the photo of her standing next to Howard Stark. Other than Steve and Bucky, those two were my closest friends. I fell down a rabbit hole after that, finding any information on the two that I could find. They had both helped found SHIELD in 1965, they had both gotten married and had children of their own. Peggy's children had stayed out of the public eye, but in true Stark fashion, Howard’s son evidently took over the family business and was living the high life. I pulled out a newspaper from the stack I had on the table in front of me and was shocked at what I saw. The title read ‘Howard and Maria Stark Die in Car Accident’, I knew Howard most likely wasn’t alive anymore but seeing the photographs of the wrecked car in the newspaper cast a somber mood through the room.

I laid the paper down on the table and ruffled through more of the papers before determining that we had no information on if Peggy was alive or not. That sent me into a frenzy of looking through phone books to try and find her and calling every retirement home in DC that I could. The only lead I had to go off of was a small interview from a newspaper, talking to Peggy about the seventieth anniversary of V-E Day, stated that she was living in Washington, DC.

After eight failed calls, finally, on the ninth, I had finally found a home which had a Peggy Carter as a residence in room 204. I rushed to pack up my things and left my office early. I ran down the back hallways as fast as I could without drawing too much attention. When I made it out of the building I ran full speed to the road to hail a cab.

Amazingly the traffic was almost nonexistent and I made it to the retirement home in only ten minutes. I fumbled out of the cab and I raced through the front doors of the building. I must have startled the women at the front desk because as soon as I rounded the corner to the staircase, they were yelling after me. I took the steps three at a time in my haste to get to the second floor. I stopped running when I was outside of room 204. I couldn’t see anything clearly through the frosted window so I knocked hesitantly and slowly opened the door and stepped in.

There in the middle of the room, against the wall was a single bed. A woman laid there quietly with her eyes closed. The closer I came to her the more familiar she looked. I let out a relieved gush of breath. There she was, older now, but still the Peggy I once knew. I nervously grabbed one of the chairs in the corner of the room and brought it over to her bedside so I could sit. Gently I gave her a small tap on the hand before just holding it in mine. She stirred but her eyes never opened.

All of a sudden one of the nurses from downstairs came into the room, with an angry and shocked expression.

“Ma’am, You can't be in here. If you want to see a patient, you have to sign in.” I ignored her, my eyes trained on Peggy's face. The commotion of the woman barging into the room had made her open her eyes and look around. I just watched as she scanned the room, first to the door on the left, to the wall in front of her, past me sitting on her right, then to the window behind me.” Her brows raised and she lifted her hands to her eyes to rub. The shock on her face was evident as she turned her head to stare directly at me.

“Hey Carter, long time no see huh?” I gave her the biggest smile that I could.

“Is it really you?” She reached her hand out to mine and grabbed hold.

“It is, it’s really me.”

“Ma’am, I mean it, you can't be here.” The nurse tried again, this time Peggy shot her a glare.

“Ms. I’ll have you know this is one of my best friends and she can be in here if she wants to. Now leave us alone.” The young nurse nodded her head and rushed out, even in old age she could still put on that commanding tone that struck fear in every man. She slowly turned back to me, almost like if she looked back for me, I would be gone. “How? How are you here?”

“It’s a long story Peg, are you sure you want to hear it?”

“Look where I am, I have nothing but time.” She laughed out and I let out my own small laugh as I shook my head.

In addition to what I had been doing, like hanging out with Sam, after that first visit, I made it a priority to see Peggy once or twice every two weeks, depending on how she was doing. Dementia had put a lot of stress on her, and seeing me after almost seventy-five years and looking relatively the same as I had when frozen took out a giant toll on her.

And that's how the next 10 months went until Steve eventually moved into an apartment directly under me.

Tag List: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @underc0vercryptid-reads @geek-and-proud @intothesoul @leyannrae @starkleila

#james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #winter solider x reader #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction

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stiltonbasket · 3 years

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but ALSO okay so first of all thank you so much for the ficlets so far they are Adorable and i love them so much. second of all i am so glad you opened prompts again bcuz. i have. smth ive been wanting to read for a WHILE. so. prompt: junior generation post-canon, they all have super high standards for romantic partners cuz they spend time with Super Lovey Dovey WangXian. not like jiang cheng's List but smth a la Tenille Arts's Somebody Like That iykwim

i hope its not too late to insert a detail to my prompt!!! (i ran outta chara space in the og prompt message and then forgot ^^" ) but theres just one thing!! i really wanna see!!!! in the wangxian spoiling each other bit!!!!! (and the juniors being all That is Love Why Should We Settle For Less) -- i want lan zhan walkin around at one point with his hair in a braid and flowers braided in!!! and if asked he gets all soft and looks at it and is like "wei ying did it" ahhh i love the image <3

can anybody find me (somebody to love)

by stiltonbasket

“Wei-qianbei, we’re getting old enough to go courting now,” Jingyi says eagerly; but he’s a horrible liar who lies, because he and Sizhui are only nineteen, and Jin Ling doesn’t come of age until early winter. “What do you think we should put on our list of requirements?”

(Or, the one where Jin Rulan visits the Cloud Recesses, contemplates his love life, and gets a new point of view on the Lan sect's taxation policy.)

Jin Ling is seventeen the year his dajiu marries Hanguang-jun, and finally gives Jin Ling the right to call Lan Sizhui his cousin. Sizhui’s always been his cousin, of course—they’ve been cousins since Jin Ling was born, even if neither of them knew it—but he couldn’t say so, because that would mean telling everyone that Sizhui was born a Wen. And telling everyone that Sizhui was a Wen would lead to terrible things, so Jin Ling keeps his mouth shut until after his dajiu’s wedding.

“You could just say that he was born to us during the Sunshot Campaign!” Wei Wuxian laughed, when he finally heard why Jin Ling wanted him to hurry up and take his three bows with Hanguang-jun. “Half the cultivation world already thinks he’s ours, anyway.”

But regardless of whether he could call Sizhui his biao-ge in public, Sizhui is first and foremost a very dear friend; and so are Lan Jingyi and A-Qing and Ouyang Zizhen, though Jin Ling’s best friend is probably Zizhen, just like Sizhui’s is Jingyi. He visits them in Gusu as often as he can, since all of them save Zizhen live there, and even Zizhen hangs around the Cloud Recesses more often than not.

“Don’t you have a clan of your own?” Jin Ling frowns, when he visits his dajiu around midsummer to find the younger boy eating xiaolongbao in the jingshi’s new kitchen. “How come you’re still here, A-Zhen? The lectures ended weeks ago!”

“I’m almost sixteen,” Zizhen yawns, reaching for a shallow dish of black vinegar and soaking a salted mushroom in it. “Father says I’m old enough to go where I like, and Lan-xiansheng said I could keep studying with the Lan disciples as long as I stayed.”

“You’re just here for the food,” grumbles Jin Ling. His dajiu is a good cook when he doesn’t cover everything in chili peppers, and Jiujiu once told him in confidence that Wei-dajiu’s food was the closest Jin Ling would ever get to having his mother’s. But a steaming plate of xiaolongbao lands in front of Jin Ling before he can really start thinking about that, and then his baby cousin crawls into his lap and steals one of the soup dumplings.

“Ling-gege pays taxes,” three-year-old Lan Yu says serenely, poking a hole in the xiaolongbao and sucking out the broth. “Xiao-Yu can have one more?”

“Taxes?” Jin Ling stares at him. “What in the world does he mean?”

Wei Wuxian laughs and comes back over to give him another succulent soup dumpling to replace the one Xiao-Yu stole. “He’s pretending to be the sect leader,” he explains, ruffling Jin Ling’s hair on his way back to the stove. “And he found out about tax management this morning, since Lan Zhan and Xichen-ge are thinking about lifting the luxury tax on goods from some of the minor sects. But A-Yu thinks taxes are presents for the sect leader, so…”

“One more bao tax for xiao-Lan-zongzhu!” Xiao-Yu says imperiously, holding out his chubby hands. “Ling-gege give, please?”

“That is not polite, Xiao-Yu,” Hanguang-jun scolds, sweeping into the kitchen with A-Yuan and Jingyi behind him and A-Qing bringing up the rear. He lifts Xiao-Yu into his arms and sits him down on the bench next to Zizhen, and then he reaches up for a stack of patterned bowls and passes them around to the others.

Jin Ling still hasn’t gotten used to eating at the Chief Cultivator’s table, even if Hanguang-jun is technically his uncle now. Sometimes Hanguang-jun even does the cooking, and feeds Wei-dajiu with his own chopsticks while everyone else watches, and then Jin Ling tries to choke himself to death on the bamboo shoots in his yan du xian before deciding that Lanling can’t afford to lose the first decent zongzhu it’s had since his great-grandfather’s time.

“I wish I was married,” Ouyang Zizhen sighs dreamily, resting his cheek on his hand as Xiao-Yu tries to steal his dumplings next. On his other side, A-Qing’s cheeks flush crimson, and she stares resolutely down at her hands while Hanguang-jun offers her a plate of savory vegetables. “It looks so nice, Wei-qianbei.”

“It is nice,” Wei-dajiui winks—and oh, gross, because Hanguang-jun is blushing now, and staring at Wei Wuxian as if he’s the most amazing thing in the world. “Marrying Lan Zhan is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Mm,” Hanguang-jun says quietly, putting a heaping spoonful of potato congee into his husband’s bowl. “Wei Ying is the best thing that happened to me, too.”

Ouyang Zizhen wails.

“What, you want an arranged marriage?” Wei-dajiu frowns. “ I never went through the process myself—” and Hanguang-jun reaches out and squeezes Wei-dajiu’s waist, as if even thinking about Wei-dajiu seeing a matchmaker was too much— “and I don’t really know anyone who did, since Yunmeng’s a lot freer about these things. Are you sure, Jingyi?”

“I’m not asking for a matchmaker,” Jingyi says, tossing his long ponytail over his shoulder. “I want to know what to look for if my love of a lifetime comes along. So what were you looking for?”

“Nothing when I was your age, A-Yi. I thought I would spend my whole life at Lotus Pier, and marry one of the shijies or shimeis who liked me. But then I met Lan Zhan, and…”

And then his ideal became Hanguang-jun, Jin Ling finishes, chewing on a mouthful of mustard greens. Everyone knows that, Jingyi!

Unfortunately, the conversation doesn’t end there. It goes on for the better part of an hour, and all through the course of coconut pudding Hanguang-jun made for dessert, and Jin Ling can’t even leave because that would be rude, and the food is too good to pass up even if Ouyang Zizhen wants to ask about kissing now.

“How old is old enough to have your first kiss?” he inquires, while Lan Sizhui giggles into his hands and elbows Zizhen to make him stop. “I’m sixteen, so is that too young?”

“I was thirty-eight when I first kissed Wei Ying,” Hanguang-jun says dryly. “I would advise patience, unless Ouyang-gongzi already has a beloved one in mind.”

Jin Ling wants to die. Why is his extended family like this?

“Pudding tax,” Xiao-Yu announces from his lap. “Ling-gege, can A-Yu have a bite?”

“I’m Sect Leader Jin, though. I don’t have to pay you taxes.”

Xiao-Yu gives him a serious little nod before turning to Sizhui. “Yuan-gege, pay pudding taxes.”

“You’ve had enough pudding,” Sizhui scolds; and indeed, the dishes are mostly empty now, except for the serving bowls in the middle of the table. “Come on, A-Yu. Let’s go visit the rabbits.”

They end up at the rabbit field about ten minutes later, after Jingyi and Sizhui help Hanguang-jun with the dishes. Jin Ling thinks it must make a very strange picture: after all, one doesn’t often see three Lan juniors, one Ouyang sect heir, one Jin sect leader, and one Lan baby lying in the grass with bunnies climbing over them. But the peace and quiet is beautifully welcome after the political unrest in Lanling and the dog food in Wei-dajiu’s tiny kitchen, so Jin Ling closes his eyes and settles down for a nap with a small white rabbit on his chest.

“I think Shufu was right,” he hears A-Qing say. “There’s no point in having a list of requirements. Look at what happened to Jiang-zongzhu.”

“His first list was terrible, though,” Zizhen objects. “And he’s going to be married by next spring, so it worked for him in the end. After he fixed his requirements, I mean.”

“Gossipping is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses,” Sizhui says tranquilly. “And what Father meant was that having a list means you might miss your fated one when they come along, so it’s best to think about what you want, instead of what your beloved should be.”

“I’d like it if my wife liked to eat my cooking,” sighs Zizhen—he’s an excellent cook, too, and Jin Ling knows for a fact that A-Qing’s favorite food is the shrimp and water spinach Zizhen’s mother taught him to make. “Then I could cook, and she could wash our children’s hands and bring them to the kitchen when I was done, and we would all eat together.”

“I think I’d like a husband who knew how to do my hair,” A-Qing says, not even trying to be subtle. Jin Ling has seen the combs Zizhen keeps giving her, even if they’re far too young for a courtship, and Zizhen is always the first to offer assistance whenever A-Qing’s hair falls out of its bun. “Even a plain bun is too hard for me, since my hair’s so bushy.”

Zizhen nearly drops his rabbit. “Oh,” he whispers, blushing so hard that his neck turns red. “That’s good!”

Jin Ling wants to die. He can’t stand visiting Lotus Pier because his jiujiu is obviously courting, even if he won’t say he is, and now he’s going to have to watch A-Qing and Zizhen flirt until Zewu-jun and Ouyang-zongzhu give them permission to get married.

“What about you, Jingyi?”

“Huh? Oh, I want to marry someone who won’t mind how loud I am,” Jingyi shrugs. “Or someone even louder than me, so we can make trouble together. A-Yuan?”

“I haven’t really thought about it, actually,” Sizhui sighs. “I’m Zewu-jun’s heir, so I have to get married, but I’m not sure if I want to.”

A moment of silence.

“Then you won’t have to,” Jin Ling says. Everyone stares at him. “Zewu-jun didn’t get married, and Hanguang-jun wouldn’t have if Wei-dajiu didn’t come back to life. You can just choose an heir born to one of your cousins, since Jingyi was going to inherit the sect before Hanguang-jun adopted you.”

The others swoop in to assure Sizhui that no one’s going to make him get married, and Jin Ling folds his arms behind his head and wonders if his biao-ge could possibly be like Zewu-jun: a yi xin yi shen, whole in heart and body, who eschewed marriage in favor of cultivation. It would explain a lot, Jin Ling thinks, because even he knows what it feels like when someone makes his heart beat fast and his face turn pink, and Sizhui’s never felt that way.

(Jin Ling tries not to think of Nie-zongzhu’s hot-tempered archivist, who knocked him into the dust with her saber the last time he visited Qinghe and then told him he had pretty eyes. Nie Shiyong is a few years older than him, and he usually ends up nursing several new bruises each time he meets her, but Jin Ling is man enough to admit to himself that he likes her. Maybe.)

“Xiao-Yu is sleepy,” little A-Yu says, interrupting his embarrassing train of thought before it can go any further. “Yuan-gege, I have a nap?”

“You can just sleep here,” Jingyi suggests. “The grass is soft enough, right? And you can use one of us for a pillow.”

“Jingyi,” Sizhui chides, and Jin Ling hears the long grass rustling as his cousin gets to his feet. “Come on, A-Yu. I’ll take you home to A-Niang.”

“No need,” someone else says; and that’s Hanguang-jun’s voice, coming up the hill from the direction of the jingshi. “I am here. A-Yu, come.”

Jin Ling scrambles up to greet his uncle by marriage (sect leader or not, jiujiu would kill him if he greeted the Chief Cultivator from the ground) and then he reels back and blinks in surprise, because Hanguang-jun’s hair is up in a loose braid instead of a half-topknot, and somebody seems to have decorated the braid with a row of half-bloomed lotus flowers.

“Wei Ying did it,” Hanguang-jun says, with a small, soft smile that makes Sizhui and the others gasp. “He will do the same for your hair, too, if you ask.”

And then he lifts Xiao-Yu up into his arms and carries him away, leaving Jin Ling still frozen mid-bow with Jingyi and Zizhen gaping behind him.

“I think what Hanguang-jun meant is that the first requirement for marriage is love,” Lan Sizhui remarks, when Jin Ling finally snaps his mouth shut. “And that no matter what we want, or think we want, we shouldn’t settle for less.”

(Jin Ling is the first of his friends to marry, and he never forgets his biao-ge’s advice until the end of his days.)

#wangxian #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #jin ling #my fic

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sumire-bride · 3 years

Text

Sumire and shuus route (demo) maniac 1

((Picture will change to Sumire and shuu soon))

monologue

yet another day where I’m learning new things about the world

and yet another day where I am dragging this so called sleeping prince on my back

Even if its Been almost a month I feel as though that my back has always felt this heavy it just seems to have gotten heavier..

physically heavier..

hey father.. do you think maybe this sleeping prince could lift this heaviness off of me…?

would you allow that..?

scene is in sumires room

sumire- *sumire is humming shiroi Hana no saku koro*

(…I let shuu-sama sleep om my bed… or.. I dragged him in here.. I couldn’t bring myself to bring him to his room so I just put him on my bed…. I don’t mind though, as long as shuu-sama is happy and healthy I am fine with sleeping on my desk…)

*sumire stops humming*

sumire- … (..I never really paid much attention to this but… shuu-sama is very handsome… mm… for some reason.. shuu-sama recently.. has been making me feel.. strange… a strange feeling.. I’m not sure how to explain it… it is a weird feeling… not once…)

*thumb thumb*

sumire- argh….! (….ow…! Ow…! It hurts… my chest hurts so much…!) ah…!

*cough cough*

it hurts…! ah..!!!

shuu- oi, stop screaming..

sumire- er…. Shuu-sama…?

shuu- what are you screaming and yelling so much for? You ruined my nap..

sumire- haha.. haah… oh.. Forgive me… I am fine do not worry…

shuu- I’m not worrying it’s more that your screaming woke me up..

sumire- ….I see… forgive me… I will be quite please go back to bed shuu-sama…

shuu- tch… honestly I don’t feel like it now… but I’ll try I guess.. pwah

sumire- ..that is good… please rest do not mind me…

(…what happened just now… it hurt so much… i‘ve never felt such pain in my hole life oh goodness…. but it… it stopped when i heard shuu-Sama speak… but even so i am not sure what that was…)

phew… (…I am going to bed… but.. shuu-sama is on my bed… I do not want to disturb shuu-Sama’s sleep…. Mm…. I really do not know what to do in this situation… well I’ll just sleep on my desk… I can take a pillow and rest it on my desk— —)

*grab*

*rustle rustle*

sumire- … (…there… I can sleep like this just fine… I mean I am pretty sure I can… I have slept on the couch while reading back home and i find all my family sleeping on desks so... It’ll be like I am following a family tradition… sleeping on desks…)

*sumire puts her head down on the desk trying to sleep*

(…not really relaxing but I can deal with that… come now sumire sleep… though… I’m scared that my chest might start hurting again… I hope it won’t..—)

*thumb*

….!!! (..ah..! It happened again... But it didn’t hurt all that much that time… what is happening…?)

*thumb thumb*

arghh….! (…ow…!!)

shuu- oi.. Rapunzel..

sumire- …ah..! Haah… haah… shuu-sama….! (…it stopped…)

forgive me… did I wake you…?

shuu- no you didn’t it was a anvil that fell through the damn roof and hit me in the head..

sumire- …oh no…!! A anvil hit you that is not good we must get you recovered as soon as possible..—!

shuu- ….

idiotic women.. I’m being sarcastic.. tch

sumire- …oh… I see.. then I am happy shuu-sama did not get hit by a anvil… that would kill him I think… and I do not want shuu-sama to die…

shuu- whatever..

what are you doing…?

sumire- ..hm..? Oh..! I was just about to sleep…

shuu- sleep..? and you tell me I sleep in weird places.. you really are a weird person aren’t you..

sumire- …? i am not sure what you mean shuu-sama

shuu- you have a guy in your bed sleeping in your bed might I add, and I’m surprised I haven’t seen you come next to me.. your missing a rare opportunity, or.. could it be that you were doing stuff to me while I was sleeping earlier

what a lewd women

sumire- I am not lewd I am sumire… I would not disturb shuu-Samas sleep for such things… if I did do such things before my father got to met you he would not be happy with me…

shuu- you humans have such strange morals.. i Have no interest in meeting him.. even if we were a thing I still wouldnt care..

sumire- ….mm…

shuu- well sleep there if you want you perv..

sumire- I am not a perv I am-

shuu- you are sumire yeah yeah… I know

sumire- … I shall sleep here… on my desk… good.. er… have a good sleep shuu-sama… (…shuu-samas voice.. it made that thing stop… I want to ask him about it but… I do not want to disturb his sleep further…)

*sumire puts her head on the pillow*

shuu- whatever..

*scene changes to dark*

sumire- …ah…!! Haah… hah… hah..!

*sumire feels her body*

sumire- .. *her breathing seems uneasy*

(…no more… no more…. I hate it… leave me alone…)

*sumire turns to shuu*

*sumire lays next to shuu curling into a ball against his back*

sumire- … (… shuu-sama… he seems to soothe me… I have never felt so safe around anyone… uu…)

monologue

my heart rate went thumb and thumb and thumb

like a rabbit thumbing it’s foot it was so harmful on my fragile chest..

but then the sleeping prince spoke… how soft his voice is…

how agonizing his touch is…

father… can shuu-sama be the one to lift this heavy feeling…? Just once can someone else lift it..

just one time.. because for once in my life…

I feel… light when my sleeping prince drags me into his despair..

——to be continued——

maniac prologue—maniac 2

#Diabolik oc #sumire #sumire-bride #Shuu #sumire route #diabolik oc routes #((we’re starting to get into some of the juicy stuff))#((Honestly not sure how much I like this one due to it being a bit rushed))#((Feedback is much appreciated))

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bluedemon1995 · 3 years

Text

Stay True To Yourself!

I read a story about a girl whose boyfriend took her to a swingers party…but neglected to tell her! And of course, that story led me down a very strange rabbit hole until this popped in my head. Ummm, this one has a little bit of a more adult theme - so please read with caution! This is an alternate reality story- obv not canon.

Katie Holt sat in the car feeling a niggling sense of unease that she cannot dismiss as hard as she tries to shove it down. She tries to narrow down the cause, thinking and analyzing as is her nature. Is it because she hasn’t been dating Mark very long and he picked her up roughly an hour ago. In fact, if she was honest, this was probably the longest amount of time she’d actually spent in his actual company. Previously, it was mostly online chats then a couple of in person short lunch coffee dates. But they were maybe twenty minutes. Is it because they are going to a party and she typically does not enjoy parties? Or maybe it’s because he’s the only person she’d know from this party, and she hates being dependent on anyone. She’d much rather rely on herself.

Regardless of the cause, she tries to shake off the feelings and enjoy the moment. Live a little in the real world like Allura said as she was helping her getting ready. Actually, if she was honest, this was the second novel experience of the day since having a friend come over and help her get ready for a date was a first as well. Yesterday, when she absently mentioned that she could not go to the movies tonight because she was going to a Christmas party with Mark, Allura got so excited. She immediately made plans to go shopping and offered to come and help me get ready. She was honestly more excited than I was but it was nice to have someone care.

Which was nice because her mom and dad had a work Christmas party to go to and her brother was on a date himself. It was nice for Allura to come over and help her out. In spite of the make up, dress and dating tips, she had a good time. Allura was only a couple of actual years older than but in experience she was decades ahead of her!

This year, partly due to their project at work, she’s gotten closer to some of co-workers or team. It’s been a nice change since high school and college where she was mostly alone except for her family and their friends. She loved feeling like people got her sarcasm, her references well, just HER. It was nice to have people who made her stop working to eat lunch or heck, even remembered to check to see if she left work for the day. Slowly but surely her team had become her friends.

Which all leads her back to a few moments ago, when Mark parked and got out of the car, stopping at the hood to wait for her. He looks impatient but whatever, she needs to take a minute alone to get her self under control. Her nerves hit a high point but deciding this was as good as it gets, Pidge stands and walks to the him, impulsively reaching out and holding his hand. It was dark and snowy, she definitely did not want to fall on ice as they walked up! How embarrassing!

He seemed surprised by her hand but quickly pulled her close, “Hey so, this is a special party and I’d really appreciate it if you kept an open mind, think of it as an of it as an experiment.”

Pidge felt like a five alarm bell was suddenly going off at the conclusion of that sentence. FUCK! What was he talking about?!? Why would he say something like that now? It was akin to setting a bomb and saying, do not look at the timer.

While Pidge is having an internal panic attack they walk in-no knocking just walk straight in the door. She doesn’t see anything right off the bat that concerns her. There’s a table where keys were thrown, shoes piled in the front hall and music playing. It was a really nice house, set in one of the fancier subdivisions of the area. Pidge was trying to keep calm but she was annoyed that he’d state something like that as they were walking in the door! What about beforehand so she could of decided?!? And he really didn’t tell her anything, which is worse than knowing.

He takes his shoes off, she does the same. Hesitating, he turns and pulls her towards the kitchen. “Drink? What’s your poison?”

Pidge sighs, beer seems safe and not like she’s going to be drinking much of anything after that bomb he dropped walking in. “Beer is fine, I’d like light if they got it.”

He nods and goes towards the coolers lined up along the wall. Pidge does what she does best, fades into the background and observes the room carefully. The lights seem dim and she could see out the patio doors that more people are out there by the pool. She squints, maybe it’s the just the glare…but are those people naked?!?

Mark comes back at that time with a draft beer which means I won’t be taking a drink of it. Why wouldn’t he give me a bottle or can that I could open myself? I’m quiet and watch Mark take in the party. I wonder who he knows? Suddenly, I look at a pretty girl in a Mrs. Claus outfit who comes up to Mark. She smiles brightly, and proceeds to lock lips with Mark, wow. She’s actually impressive with her ability to wrap around him like a snake yet keep her hand with her drink still, not spilling a drop. I’m actually impressed! My eyes dart around the room, trying to gauge what the hell is going on here. Why would he bring me here if he already has girl???

Finally she breaks off and slides over to me, “Hi, Danni with an I, wanna make out?”

I blink, rapidly, “Um, no, I’m good, but, uh, thank you for the offer though.”

She smiles, “Okay! If you change your mind I’ll be around!”

She flounced away and I looked to Mark, quietly questioning, “Exactly what kind of Christmas party is this? Why am I even here?!?”

He chucked, “It’s a swingers party and you can’t come alone. You NEED to bring a date, you know for the numbers. C’mon, this will be fun.”

I look at him feeling myself turn red. “Wait a minute, I bought a fucking new outfit for this?!? I put goddamn makeup on! You fucking asshole! Look, I could give two shits about what you do, honestly, we aren’t involved like that but why involve me? Could you not find someone else to bring? For fuck’s sake!”

Mark stared at me, having the NERVE to arch a brow, “Cursing really? You know swearing is for people not intelligent enough to come up with a better word. Besides, don’t be a prude, look walk around and find someone you find interesting or hot. There are a lot of people here, like it’s not that hard.”

I close my eyes and as bad as I want to hit him, curse him out, I refrain. Oh, he will pay, just later when there aren’t about a hundred witnesses who can fill out a police report. I take a breath and walk away, back to the front door. I look at the keys, but they all look the same, how would I know which is which. I guess I could take them all but what if someone wants to leave. I step out to the front steps.

Honestly, this could not have happened on a worse night. I can’t call Matt, he’s finally on a date with his current dream girl and my parents at that work party. I close my eyes, take a breath to reign in my anxiety that is sky rocketing and first I try Allura. But, duh, she’s at the movies with Romelle and probably turned her phone off. Shit. My eyes fill with tears but I refuse to let them fall. I take a deep breath, trying Hunk instead another coworker. Straight to voicemail. Shit he might be sleeping.

I look at my contacts and realize, I don’t have a long list of people to call. I sit and sigh, okay no matter how embarrassing I could always get an Uber. I schedule one but because I’m so far it will take about an hour. I walk around to the back and sit on a chair in the dark corner of the backyard. Sitting, I let my finger hover over the last name to try. Here goes nothing. Hanging up I text a short message. What the hell do I have to lose at this point.

I sit. And sit. I don’t know how many girls and guys I rebuff but something about a person not wanting to hook up makes people want to hook up with you apparently. Jeesh, in my real life, no one wanted to date me now everyone was trying to have sex with me. WTF?

Sighing I look at my phone, and crap, it looks like all my surfing has killed my battery. Suddenly a very naked Mark and a different Mrs. Claus come up to me.

Mrs. Claus giggles out, “Hey if you’re nervous, you could totally hook up with my husband. He’s the hot elf over there, standing on the edge of the pool and hot tub. It will be fun! Then if we like, we could continue next week!!” She giggles a lot and I try not to be rude.

“Thank you for that kind offer, but I’m good.”

She shrugs, “Sure thing baby, but aren’t you bored. Marky said you were shy and um, a novice. Don’t be afraid.”

Mark turns and Pidge can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Only for some guy in his boxers to edge into her space. “Darlin’, you-me-, it’s written in the stars baby.”

I groan, “Nope. You misread them, thank tho.”

Usually once I say no, they just move on. But nope, not this one. “Don’t be a prude. Sex is very natural. It’s elemental. It’s like essential. You need me baby!!”

Really, that’s his line? I shake my head no, but now we’ve got a crowd. I hear people interject how I’m falling into societies lanes and I must be a virgin because I’m sitting by myself. Then I hear people say I should be grateful and oh my gosh, yep, I’ve been transported back to high school. Except I’m not a self conscious kid anymore and I don’t give a fuck what they think about me. But, I’ll be damned if I don’t respond. No one pushes me or pressures me to do something I don’t want to. And I’ve never just gone with the crowd cuz it was easier, not then, not now.

I hear a roar and suddenly all attention is lost on me. I decided to leave before my temper actually erupts. I quickly move towards the gate to get the hell out of here. I’d rather walk home then stay here. Fuck Mark and his party. I might actually brainstorm with Allura and Romelle on a way to get back at him. Something embarrassing.

As I walk away I hear Mark yelling my name, “Katie! Katie! Don’t walk away! You need to expand your senses and life. Don’t be scared. There is so much I could teach you. Don’t be such a prude!”

Laughter.

Well fuck him. Now I’m pissed. I’m not scared. I just don’t want to do this. Yet, who does he think he is telling me what I should do. As if. And what if he did this to other girls, who weren’t able to say no? I turn around and calmly but loudly state, while looking straight at him, “Look, don’t act like I’m the scared one. Who didn’t tell me where they were taking me. If this was a scene I was into, fine. And believe me, I will sleep with whoever I want. I just don’t want to sleep with you nor do I have anything to prove to anyone. But if and when I see a guy or girl for that matter, that I’d like to fuck, then I would. So, shut up, cause Marky you’re just not it.”

I could hear murmurs and then Mark yelling, and his feet slapping on the ground. Ughhhhh. One thing I could be thankful for is seeing him naked, cuz ick. He has no muscle definition and oh my God, I cannot wait to tell Allura how he looks like he waxes cuz he has no hair anywhere on his body.

I turn to walk away and see a guy who I have HAD the luxury of day dreaming about striding towards me with an shit eating smirk. Well, shit, of course. My eyes closes but it doesn’t stop my from seeing him behind my eyes. His hair is slightly matted from his helmet which means the roar must have been his Harley. He has one of his many black t-shirts on with his favorite leather jacket over it. His jeans are well worn and faded not those designer ones that only look used. He has on his riding boots, which of course give him another inch or so of height. Which he loves. Opening my eyes I see him about 6 feet away and I see he still has his riding gloves on.

I determinedly walk towards him only to hear Mark scream, his feet slapping, or at least I hope it’s his feet. He yells, “Yeah right, you prude-like you would ever-“

I reach said hot guy and say, “I’m kissing you in two seconds. One, two.”

I fist my hand in his shirt and pull him closer to me. Except he doesn’t move, so I look up into his eyes and arch a brow, he arches his, which causes me to roll my eyes and I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell when grins. With his hands on my hips pulls me into his hard body, throwing me off balance. I slip my arms around him lift my head and his lips slam onto mine. Ok, point proven. Yet, as I lean back to break the kiss, I feel two arms encompass me, hold me close and reposition me.

His mouth re-angles on mine, I feel myself lifted on my tip toes. Omg, the heat of his body is amazing. I didn’t even realize I was cold sitting out here but against his body I felt like was next to a heater. His tongue pushes past my lips and, well, I stopped thinking for a full minute, hell maybe minutes. It was that good of a kiss. Shit. His tongue stroked mine, made me shiver and then he nipped my lip causing a groan. I literally could feel him smile and I was going to move back when his hand fisted in my hair and he started to kiss my neck and holy crap! I think my knees buckled but it didn’t matter because he picked me up and my legs were suddenly wrapped around his waist. His hands were supporting my weight but I think they were actually under my dress. My hands were in his hair and digging into his shoulder respectively. Well. Hell.

I don’t know how long that went on for when suddenly I hear Mark right next to us yelling, “That’s enough.”

Slowly pulling back, his gravelly voice questions, “Outta here or are we continuing the show? Just to be clear, I’m good with either decision.” He then arches that fucking brow.

Face flaming, I whisper, “Let’s go. Please.”

Eyes on me, he nods. “What’s asshole’s name?”

“Mark.”

Nodding he raises his voice, “Hey Mark, fuck off and if I ever see you again, you’re dead.”

A girl in just a string bikini bottom steps in front of us, drawing our attention. Her hand is gliding down her chest when she looks right at him, throatily murmuring, “Wanna upgrade?”

He laughs, “Um already did. Let’s go Pidge.”

He moves his hands and I lower my legs. He instantly laces his fingers with mine and pulls me to the path back to the front. “Keith! You can’t say that! You know about Mark being dead meat.”

“Just did.”

“Why, what, are you even doing here?”

As he places his helmet on my head and carefully tightens the straps, “I saw Shiro’s phone buzz, so I looked. It seemed like something that couldn’t wait. So here I am.”

Blinking I nod, “Okay. I said I had an Uber coming.”

“Saw, don’t care. I, um, didn’t like the idea of you being here when you didn’t want to be. So yeah, deal.”

“But why didn’t you respond?”

“I pinged your location to my phone and left. Didn’t think about it honestly.”

“What if I was gone?”

He shrugged as we approached his bike, which was on the lawn! “As long as you were safe.”

He then takes off his coat, slipping it around my shoulders, “Arms in, it’s cold when we start moving.” Eyes on her legs, fingers play with her skirt, brushing her thighs. “I can’t do anything about your legs though. Let me know if you need a break. We can stop as often as you need.”

I nod, and as we drive into the night, my arms tight around his waist, I can’t help but smile. Keith Fucking Kogane. Damn this boy can kiss. Maybe there is hope for my love life after all. I feel his hand cover my hand on his abdomen, squeeze and drift down to my leg. I squeeze him a little tighter and I know it’s just my imagination but I swear I can hear his laughter.

My hero.

#katie holt #keith kogane #kidge #alternate realities

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hypnoticwinter · 3 years

Text

Down the Rabbit Hole part 22

“You come…here again?”

“I know we said we wouldn’t,” the Sergeant says slowly, putting great care into his enunciation, “but it’s important.”

“Im…por…tant?”

“Yes. We have –“

“This…many more,” the copepod says, waggling three massive fingers at him. The Sergeant is silent for a moment.

“I don’t understand,” he says finally.

“You kill…this many…more,” the copepod grunts. I can hear it breathing, vast wheezing noises like the space in between notes on a bagpipe. “This many more…since you said…you would leave.”

The Sergeant sighs. “They attacked us outside of the barrows. The ones they attacked had no choice but to defend themselves.”

“This…the…end, four-arms?”

I frown, glance over at Elena. “Four-arms?” I mutter. She leans in closer to me.

“Their word for us. They haven’t got any legs so they don’t really grasp the distinction between a leg and an arm.”

I nod, staring down at the screen on my camera. The copepod looks far too glossy but with the gloves on the suit I don’t really have the dexterity to fiddle with it and I don’t want to take them off presently, so it’ll just have to be glossy. I look over at the two copepods that had come in earlier, still lurking behind the Big Guy like statues, clinging to the wall in positions that look as though they could push off and dart at us with absolutely minimal effort.

The rest of the team seems very relaxed, though; nobody, not even Crookshank, has their rifles up to cover the copepods. “Do y’all come down here often?” I ask.

Elena shakes her head. “I’ve only been down here once before, and that was about a year ago.” Her eyes flick over to Peter. “Investigating a missing person.”

I think of several possible responses to that but bite them all back. None of them would be helpful, and at any rate my impulse to defend Peter has withered a little over the last few days. Probably just the hormones talking. Maybe if I didn’t get such a big damn case of the warm fuzzies whenever I so much as look at Elena –

“The end of what?” the Sergeant asks. The copepod gestures, a vague, open-handed, sweeping motion. It’s a terrifically human gesture and for a moment I stare, wondering, then its segmented mouthparts judder to life again and that horrible, inhuman voice issues forth from them again and some poor pattern-recognizing part of my brain gets whiplash from the disjointedness of it.

“How we…end. Many…spawnings since we…meet, four-arms, and now…there is not…enough…to eat. If we…leave…to hunt, you…kill us.”

The Sergeant starts to say something, but the copepod slams a fist into the ground. Next to me I feel Elena flinch, and on the far wall of the chamber one of the other copepods cocks its head.

“We are hungry,” it tells the Sergeant, and something about the way it says those three simple words strikes me like a lightning bolt, passing all the way through my stomach and out my tailbone. My hands are shaking lightly and part of me wants to panic, wants to be out of here right now, but I close my eyes and swallow hard and force myself to be calm.

The Sergeant, to his credit, doesn’t even blink. “We’re here to talk about that.”

The copepod is silent. It reaches up with its hand and rubs at its face lightly, in a motion that reminds me of a fly cleaning its compound eyes. “Don’t…believe you,” it wheezes eventually.

“We are. We’re planning to start bringing food down for – for your people. But we need something in return.”

I glance over at the crystal again. It’s a good thing we brought Joker; I don’t know how we would have gotten it out of here if he weren’t here to carry it.

The copepod rolls its head back and makes a strange, scratchy, rhythmic noise, that I recognize after a moment as laughter.

“You make…us starve, then…come with…solution…to problem…you made? And…you want…trade…for it?”

I hear the Sergeant sigh, watch him look up at the ceiling. I’m impressed at how well he’s doing so far, especially considering (unless I have egregiously misread him) that he’s a soldier, not a diplomat. But now the copepod has handed him a real zinger.

“We never meant to hurt you,” he says. The copepod shifts lightly, the spongy floor creaking under its ponderous bulk. “There has been a long and bloody history between us and I wish it weren’t that way. I wish that things had been different, so many years ago when the first one of us had met the first one of you. I wish we had known to leave you alone and not interfere with your way of life. But the past can’t be changed, all we can do is try to right what wrongs we can.”

“What…you want?”

The Sergeant points to the crystal. “That,” he says. The copepod looks over at it and then reaches out and drags it, one handed, using what seems to be practically no effort, out from behind the pile.

“Not…for trade.”

“Not even for regular supplies of food?”

“Not…for anything.”

“Nothing at all?”

The copepod stops and looks at us. Its eyes seem to fix on something.

“Give me…that,” it says, pointing, and we all turn and stare at Crookshank, who the Sergeant had given his rifle to and who is now carrying both of them, somewhat awkwardly, beneath his armpits. He looks perturbed for a moment before he realizes and unlimbers one of them and sets the stock of it into the floor. I can see the muscles in the great knotty bulge of the Sergeant’s jaw working before he turns back around.

“Absolutely not,” he says.

“Too…bad.”

The Sergeant very clearly doesn’t know what to say, and then after a moment throws in the towel. “Alright,” he says. “Give me a minute, I have to ask.”

Then he turns around and takes a couple of respectful steps away before reaching down to his radio and calling Makado.

“They want what?” she groans, after he’s told her the news. The rest of us, listening in over the squad link, cast glances at each other but remain silent.

“One of the slug rifles,” he repeats. “I told him that we’d bring them regular shipments of food instead but he didn’t go for it.”

I hear Makado curse under her breath.

“You told them we’d bring them food? Goddam it,” she mutters. “You didn’t have any authority to –“

“Veret,” the Sergeant snaps, his voice barely edging on civil. “We don’t have time for this –“

“You expect me,” she hisses, her voice mingling with the static, “to give you the go-ahead to give them a fucking slug rifle? Why don’t we also turn off the sonic traps and leave the seal unlocked on the way out?”

“What do you want me to do, then?”

The copepod is watching this one-sided conversation with interest. The Sergeant’s voice is low and sharp but I’m sure the copepod can still hear some of what he’s saying. Its vocabulary seems fairly good but as for how much it understands…

“You said there’s only three of them in there right now, right?” Makado asks. I see the Sergeant shake his head.

“Absolutely not,” he says. “No way.”

“Sergeant,” Makado starts. I can hear a note of steel buried somewhere deep in her voice. “We need that crystal.”

“I’m going to give him the damn gun,” he tells her. Somewhere miles above us Makado slams her hand on her desk.

“Do not –“

“I am not,” the Sergeant says, very quietly, “letting any more of my people die down here today. There are three copepods in here, and fifty within two hundred yards, and a hundred within a mile, and they all are going to come running the instant we fire one of these guns.”

Makado is silent for a moment. “Fine,” she says. Her voice is hard enough to cut glass. “One rifle, no mags.”

“Fine.”

The channel cuts out with a resounding click. Elena and I trade glances; I can tell from her face that she’s never heard Makado that angry before.

The Sergeant reaches out for Crookshank’s rifle wordlessly and Crookshank hurries forward and hands it to him. The copepods on the walls draw in a little closer. I can see them practically twitching with anticipation, waiting for one of us to make the wrong move. The Sergeant turns, the slug rifle held in one hand, the barrel toward the ceiling. The copepod reaches out for it and the Sergeant places it gently in the thing’s hand.

Next to me I feel Elena shift her grip on her own rifle. The copepod looks down at the rifle in its hand for a long while.

“You should have taken the food,” the Sergeant tells it. The copepod in turn makes a snorting, chuffing noise. Then it closes its fist over the gun and with a sound like a groan of relief it bends and breaks. The bolt pops out and whizzes off somewhere in the darkness and the slugs pour from the ruined breach of the rifle like marbles, five of them clunking dully to the fleshy floor and rolling someplace out of sight. It tosses the bent frame of the rifle aside, and it clatters into the pile of junk and detritus and causes a small avalanche. The Sergeant steps back, eyes wary.

Then the copepod reaches over and shoves the crystal towards him. Its sharp spikes stick in the floor a little and leave bloody gouges in their wake. Whatever is inside it casting that green glow shifts lightly, with a kind of exaggerated slowness to it like it were floating in oil, and I glance down at the camera, make sure it’s in focus.

“Take…it,” the Big Guy tells us, and I can see by the look on the Sergeant’s face that he has a lot of questions he wants to ask, but instead of asking them he turns and gestures to Euler and after a little bit of prodding Euler manages to walk Joker forwards and find a decent place to grasp the crystal firmly, and then it picks it up.

One of the robot’s joints groans under the strain and Euler quickly prods at the joystick and it freezes, but after a few moments for he shrugs and continues twiddling, and Joker hefts the crystal like it were nothing and marches, a little unsteadily, back to us.

The copepod, meanwhile, has turned, rolling its enormous bulk delicately past us, and, with the assistance of one of the other copepods, which puts its arms on the Big Guy’s sides and is helping push, slithers out of the room. The audience, apparently, is over.

We all look around at each other but nobody feels any need to speak. There’s nothing to say. Crookshank is looking wistfully at the rifle on the ground, the barrel twisted like a piece of straw, but as we all begin to file out of the organelle and back into the snaking outer vent that got us there, Elena squeezes my hand firmly and I believe for a moment, just a moment, that everything might work out alright.

* * *

Elena twists around sharply and stares back into the darkness, her rifle low and ready. I peer backwards anxiously, then glance at her.

“What is it?”

She shakes her head, holds a hand up to me. “Shh,” she tells me.

Behind us the rest of the group marches onwards. There’s a distinct sense of relief in the air. Many of them, I realized belatedly, had expected that we were going to our deaths, that we were going to have to try to take the crystal by force. Ellis thought so for sure; his smile is unbearably bright and the Sergeant has had to tell him to shut up multiple times on the journey out, but his enthusiasm is so overflowing that he can’t shut up, he just keeps babbling on about whatever is in his head, what he’s going to do when he gets back to the surface, how nice it’ll be to have fresh air, so on and so on.

Elena is standing there quite still, her head cocked to one side. I listen but I can’t hear anything, and I start to tug at her sleeve, thinking that –

Wait.

I thought for a moment that I might have heard something, something very far away, but it was the sort of quiet, subtle noise that is hard to notice even in dead silence, and our current environment is very far from that. Everything down here seems to make noise; it’s a little like being in a forest in the middle of a windstorm. Instead of trees creaking and groaning and leaves scattering and wind rushing, you have the tramp tramp tramp of metal-plated feet, and the corresponding squelches of cleat sticking into the floor and the equally horrible meaty slurping sound with each step as they come unstuck. Then on top of that there’s groans and moans and straining noises. If you put your ear to someone’s stomach after they’ve just eaten you might get a sense of what it’s like, except fifty times louder and without anything in the way. The hallways shift around you, little wriggles of convulsive muscle movement going through them, and the noise is concurrent with the size and force of the muscles doing the moving. But there is a difference between the shrieking of a taut muscle and the shrieking of something in pain, far off in the distance, perhaps…

Elena leans in very sharply and reaches out with a balled fist and smacks the quick-release on the side of my helmet. The visor jets up and instantly the fetid smell of the Pit assaults me. My eyes start to water. “What the fuck,” I start to blurt, but Elena puts a gloved hand over my mouth. Her eyes are very clear and very bright; she’s already popped her own helmet so she can talk to me clearly.

“Listen to me, Roan,” she says, her eyes glancing over to the side and back the way we came before flicking over to me again. “If something happens down here, you stick to me like glue. Got it?”

I start to say something but she gives me a dangerous look and I swallow hard. “Got it,” I say.

“Okay, good,” she says. She flashes me a quick grin but I can tell she’s just giving me lip service, just from the way her eyes jump like roulette balls, scanning the surroundings even as she reaches over and flips my visor back into place. I had started to ask – well, I don’t know what I was going to ask. Probably something useless, some infantile plea for assurance that we were going to be okay. Clearly we aren’t if Elena is spooked like this. I look ahead of her at the rest of the team; they’re wary but not as wary as she is.

“Elena, what’s wrong?” I ask her, taking a hold of her arm, and she looks over at me and starts to answer, and then everything goes to hell.

Behind us I hear the sound I thought I had heard before, except much louder and clearer – a chittering shriek of either pain or rage, or perhaps some of both. Something about the tone makes me think it’s a copepod. The scream is cut off halfway through, and then we hear other screams, loud gurgling ululations, echoing through the vents. Everyone is yelling, everyone’s rifles are coming up very quickly, heads are whipping around and scattering the broad angry cones of headlamp light across the wet, glistening walls. The shrieks and cries are reaching a crescendo and it seems impossible that we can’t see any copepods at the present moment.

The side of the vent bulges inward suddenly and I see a long tapered mass move by, like a throat swallowing, and I realize that it must have been a copepod, sliding past as quickly as its resin-coated carapace will allow.

Elena has her hand under my arm and is tugging me along as quickly as we can go. I am deathly afraid I’m going to trip and fall and splatter face-first into the wet, bloody floor; I’m not digging in the cleats all the way, there isn’t time to with the way she’s rushing me. I want to reach down and pull out my sidearm but I don’t trust myself to keep ahold of it if I were to.

I can see a flickering glance of Euler’s face, bringing up the rear behind us, feverishly punching buttons on the controller and working the joystick. He looks frightened and I feel suddenly and incongruously bad for Euler, because he clearly has hated this place from the second he came down here, and it’s only his job that’s making him do it, and now he, and probably all of us, are going to die because of it.

I remember Makado very seriously considering us just opening up on the Big Guy, on the king of the copepods or whatever the hell the hierarchy is down here, just because he wanted a gun instead of just giving us the crystal. The wan green light is still pressing tightly against my back from where Joker has the damn thing clenched tight in his metal hands, and I feel my lip curling and realize that maybe Elena is right, maybe Makado is out of line, maybe she’s let her – her obsession with making sure that the Pit doesn’t hurt anything and anyone else lead her to some bad decisions. Or maybe –

There’s a shriek behind us, sounding terribly close now. Elena and I look back, as does Euler, but we still can’t see anything.

I have never felt so helpless in my life. If a copepod comes out of nowhere and snatches me right now, that would be it, I’d be done for. I don’t want to even pretend that Elena would turn everyone around and get them to come charging back into certain doom to save my skinny ass. I can imagine the conversation now: “Oh yeah, El, sure we know you were getting your pussy eaten by that frail little skeleton girl from admin but no way in hell we’re risking our neck for her, capisce?”

All it would take, I figure, is for one of them to dart up from behind, where our visibility is the worst, grab my leg, and then reverse and zoom out of sight. They can move so quickly down here it doesn’t seem real. It’s like the way seals move, fluttering around on the ice on their bellies, tucked down and torpedo-shaped, their arms slicked back against their sides unless they’re reaching forward to dig in with their blunt, ichor-caked fingertips, adding momentum, whipping around hairpin turns.

A crazy thought strikes me as I stumble again and Elena wrenches me back to my feet – being a copepod must be like living in a funhouse where everything is a slide. I almost start to laugh but I shove it back down, deep down.

It happens very quickly. There is a loud chittering screech from ahead of us and we both whip around. There in front, clinging to the ceiling of the vent, is a slender copepod, slithering towards us hand over hand. When someone’s headlamp – I think it’s Fumi – strikes it in the face it shrieks and falls on him and one of the guns roars and even though my earplugs are in it is louder than loud, the flash from the muzzle is like the sun, and I think I shriek in terror and surprise and then I really do fall, but Elena, angel that she is, is there to pull me back to my feet.

While I’ve been face-down on the floor someone has shot the copepod a little off-center, and a hole as big around as my fist is half-heartedly gushing a chunky, glutinous white ichor. The copepod’s arms and fins are fluttering and we all give it a wide berth, hustling towards the exit.

It is such a long way off, though, and that copepod was only the first of many. Once we shot the first one there was no going back, and the air quickly turned smoky and foul with the cordite stench of gunfire. It’s impossible to hear anything besides rage-filled animal screeches and the great pounding thud every time someone fires off one of the guns. The pounding and the sharp crackling report melds together in my head and it sounds as though there is an idiot child pounding on a giant drum, having a temper tantrum, right next to me.

Elena tugs me onward. A copepod breaks into the center of our formation and brings its titan fist down in an arc, and though it is pinioned by rifle fire and dies twitching its fist still hurtles downwards and impacts square on Ellis’ head. He falls like a tree and there is cursing over the radio link and someone very close is screaming Ellis’ name and it takes me a moment to realize that it’s me, that I’m the one heaving out his name like it were vomit and staring back at his body, splayed spread-eagle on the ground, his visor shattered, part of his spine jutting through the thick fabric at the back of the neck of the suit. The copepod had hit him so hard that some part of him broke, and his head was forced downward, crushing his neck.

After that I consciously observe very little. It’s like my mind retreats into some dark corner of the inside of my skull and sits there in a huddle weeping while whatever animal, lizard part of me takes the reins is utterly unfazed by everything. I remember little flashes here and there, lit by gunfire; I remember copepods like enamel-white cruise missiles, darting in from barely-seen slits in the walls, their hands reaching for me, Elena slashing at them desperately with her knife; I remember Fumi’s bearded face, drawn and ashen, down on one knee slamming another magazine into his rifle and the sound it made when he pulled the bolt back was like glass shattering; I remember vast white fingers wrapping around Crookshank’s thick waist and jerking him off of his feet and whisking him away into the darkness while everyone twisted and shot haphazardly, trying not to hit him. His face I remember particularly, for it was wide and frightened and for a moment I thought I could see the little boy he’d once been, peering out at me from inside the man’s body and wordlessly begging me to save him, but of course I couldn’t. I had joined in, snatching the pistol from my waist and squeezing off every shot in the magazine back into the darkness behind us. I don’t think I hit anything, other than the walls of the vent, leaving bleeding puncture-marks and a haze of smoke. Then Elena yanked me off of my feet again in her hurry to get us out of there and I had dropped the gun. I cried out for it but there was no helping it, we were long gone.

Our numbers dwindle one by one, first Ellis then Crookshank. I don’t see Klaus get taken; he just disappears in the frantic haze of gunsmoke and flashlight blur, and everyone is calling out for him. I remember the Sergeant barking, his voice like sandpaper, that Klaus is gone, his vitals aren’t registering, just go, and us all going.

I remember seeing Joker, seeing snippets of Joker, rather, caught strobelike in the lights, battering aside a copepod, flashing a gunmetal-grey arm out to block one from reaching for Euler, the crystal set aside on the ground for a moment to give the machine a greater range of motion. I see its fingers fix around the wrist of the copepod and then twist and with a piercing cry of rage the thing draws its hand back, clutching at the bloody, spurting stump where its hand had been, the shock of it giving Joker the moment of hesitation it needed in order to bound towards the copepod and slam its metal fist through the tough but brittle exoskeleton and submerge up to its elbow in the copepod’s guts. It pulls out a handful of slime and then closes its mechanical fist and pounds the copepod in the head and silences its screeching. Then –

“Roan, we have to go!” Elena screams from next to me, but I don’t hear her, I’ve stopped, or almost stopped, turned half around, walking precariously backwards.

There is something looming in the darkness behind Joker, something decidedly not a copepod. Joker’s head whips around, some sort of sensor or scanner detecting the movement, and the floodlights built into the machine’s face illuminate the writhing, terrible bulk of the Leechman, standing there in a slump on two wormy, leech-filled feet, shiny and slick and horrible. I let out a wordless cry and Elena looks back at me and sees it too and stops, I can hear her words die in her throat.

The Leechman is enormous, its height and bulk so immense that it seems to fill the entire breadth of the vent with a solid wall of squirming leeches. Joker cocks its arm back as Euler goggles up at the monstrosity lurking, head cocked at an inquisitive angle, staring down at the metal toy in front of it.

Then before Joker can throw the punch the Leechman reaches down and envelops the machine in one massive appendage. I can see metal cracking, rivulets of rust and slime trickling down Joker’s armored legs. It manages to grab one of the leeches and crush it in its fist but then the Leechman tightens its grasp and one of Joker’s arms pops off, sparking all the way down until it thuds on the corridor floor. Elena is tugging at me but I can’t move, I can’t think, I can only watch, mute, praying the camera is getting all of this, as it scoops up Euler as well in the other arm. He tries to run but doesn’t get anywhere, the arm stretching out after him and nabbing him, tendrils of leeches knotted or grown together slipping over him. I can see them biting into him, forcing themselves into him, and when he opens his mouth to scream they pour inside and he chokes and sputters and then they close over him and he is gone.

The Leechman tosses Joker to the side and he clatters to the ground like a mannequin, the roll-bars on his ribcage bent and shattered, his head dented and compressed. He rolls once then lies still.

Then, with barely a glance in our direction – if it even has eyes, if it even has anything to sense with as I understand the word – the Leechman reaches down and picks up the crystal, and stomps off down the vent. It is such a banal, normal motion that I almost burst out laughing, but I get the feeling that if I let myself laugh I will keep laughing and laughing until everything falls out of me and I’m left empty and echoing.

Ahead of us someone shoots again and a copepod screeches. I turn to see it, darting in, fins streamlined and tucked against its body, spewing ichor from one double-fisted hole in its carapace, a grazing wound, apparently, as it tugs Peter off his feet and down beneath it. I scream his name and start to rush forward but Elena blocks me, then steadies her rifle, but before she can fire the copepod pushes off and bears him struggling into the darkness.

“Goddam it!” I shriek and start after him, but Elena tugs me back and pushes me forward so hard that I go sprawling onto my knees. I cast her a furious glance and scramble to my feet but before I can say something cutting and hurtful that I’ll probably regret, even if Peter’s just been fucking snapped up by a copepod, the Sergeant calls from ahead of us to hurry the fuck up, it’s time to leave, ladies, and I look ahead and see something that makes my jaw drop and my heart do flips in my chest – there ahead of us is the vast metal retaining wall that blocks off the barrows from the rest of the Pit, and there in the center of it is the great reinforced door, standing open and letting a flood of light pour in.

I look at Elena and take her offered hand and she has tears in her eyes but she isn’t faltering, not even for a moment, and in that instant whatever anger I could have felt at her is gone, utterly gone.

Behind us a copepod shrieks and then Fumi – oh, thank god, at least Fumi made it – fires at it, and the slug passes so close to me that I can feel the wind even through the suit, and then we, Elena and I, her arm around me urging me forward and keeping me upright, make it to the door in what feels like an instant, and once we’re through the Sergeant slams it closed and spins the wheel to lock it.

And then, having nothing else sensible to do, I fall to the ground and start to cry.

* * *

I’ve got my helmet off and my sleeves rolled up. My gloves are lying on my stomach. Elena is running her hand softly through my hair and my eyes are a little puffy and sore but I’ve stopped crying. My nose, also, is becoming a little less stuffed, but that means I can smell the Pit again, so it’s a mixed blessing.

Elena’s been crying too but somehow I think she’s pulled it off more gracefully than I have. Instead of bawling and letting it all out in one go she’s managed to keep it down to a mute trickle. Every now and then she wipes at her eyes again and I squeeze her hand tighter for a moment and she squeezes mine back.

Ten minutes ago she’d leant in and held me very tight, even at the awkward angle she could manage, there on the ground, and I could feel in her a shuddering relief, an ease of tension. The copepods had stopped banging on the door ten minutes before that, and we had heard soft slithering sounds as they had retreated, and then we were alone in the silence.

I don’t feel like I’m alive. I don’t feel like I really made it out of there, I feel like a ghost, like I’m looking down from a great height at this slim, dark-haired girl in an ugly orange suit laying on the fleshy floor, looking beat-up and tired and done with this shit but not in a determined way, more like a resigned, given-up, “okay just keep rolling over me, fucking whatever” kind of way.

The Sergeant is quietly arguing with Makado about ten feet away. I’ve turned off my radio so I can’t hear her, just him, one-sided and quietly serious, his face like an Easter Island statue. Moa? Moai? Maui? I should look up the word. I should know something like that.

“Klaus, Crookshank. Ellis is dead for sure, we saw it. Euler. Fumi is okay, Roan’s okay, Elena is okay.”

A pause, then he closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

I can hear a tinny scream from all the way over here, of terrible rage that turns to grief partway through, and I know from the sound of it that she’s asked about Peter. I look at Elena and she looks at me.

“Are you okay?” she mouths at me, which is a question so incredibly dumb given the situation that my immediate instinct is to roll my eyes at her. Then it strikes me how incredibly understated just rolling my eyes would be and I nearly start crying again, and she sees it on my face and immediately her whole face shifts. She leans in and the sheer amount of care there does a strange thing to me and I bite my lip hard and reach out for her and put my hand to her cheek, and she kisses my palm despite how sweaty and gross it must be and I allow myself the indulgence of one brief moment to feel utterly, stupendously, selfishly relieved that her and I both are okay.

I again want to tell her something I know I shouldn’t but I stop myself. “No,” the Sergeant is saying, meanwhile. “No, we didn’t get the crystal.”

I hear another, quieter outburst from the other end, and the Sergeant holds the radio a little further away from his ear. “Joker’s fucked,” he says patiently. “As is Euler.”

“The Leechman got the crystal,” I call. My voice is scratchy. I cough, clear my throat and then repeat myself. “I saw it,” I add.

“Me too,” Elena nods, glancing at me. “Roan’s right, it was the Leechman.”

The Sergeant glances at us for a moment, probably wondering if our judgment can be trusted at the present moment, then nods and repeats what we’ve just told him to Makado. I hear a tiny sound of something shattering as if thrown and then the radio clicks off with a screech. The Sergeant sticks it back into his belt holster with a sigh and looks over at us. Fumi hasn’t said a word since we made it through the barrier; he’s slumped against the wall with his head in his hands. He looks up and when I can see his face it’s as though he’s a different person – that aura of impenetrable cool he’d maintained so elegantly up until now is utterly shattered.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” the Sergeant tells us, and after a moment Elena nods and gets to her feet and helps me up and then we get the fuck out of there.

We make our way through Oyster’s Shame and up the Cord. It is, insanely, four in the afternoon, which seems so banal and impossible to me that I nearly start laughing when Elena tells me the time. It feels like it’s about 13 in the evening or so.

We take frequent breaks, rest our legs and our hearts. There is less of a sense of urgency now, and the Sergeant doesn’t care as much what we do as long as we all stay together. Even so we don’t talk much. There’s nothing to say, or maybe there’s too much.

When we get to the top of the Cord the Sergeant looks back at us, pausing before he opens the door. It looks like he’s going to say something, but he stops, shakes his head minutely, and throws it open. The light from the harsh fluorescents pours down on him and for a moment all I can see is a silhouette.

Then a gunshot rings out from the vent behind him and the Sergeant takes one step forward, totters and falls. He lands hard on the metal grating of the floor and doesn’t move. A red pinprick brightens in the middle of his back, just on the other side of where his heart would have been.

I hear rattling from the staircase below as Fumi somehow manages to spur himself into action and sprint down it, taking the stairs two at a time. Before Elena or I can force ourselves to move, a figure steps into view. It holds a very big revolver and it’s aimed straight at me. Elena and I glance at each other and then raise our hands shakily into the air, and the figure cocks its head lightly, and as my eyes adjust to the light I can see it grin. Then I can see more of its face and I feel my mouth drop open as I start to say its name.

“Surprise,” Erica Walken says.

Continue with Part 23

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#mystery flesh pit #writing #writeblr #original writing #horror #novel #Michael Crichton #caving #disaster #thriller

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maggot-monger · 3 years

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some musings on shipping culture

just to get this out of the way: this post is prompted by things i have seen people say and reblog recently about a variety of ships and fandoms, some of which i have been in, some of which i have not. it is not directed at any individual in particular.

i am also not upset. how other people like to enjoy fandom is interesting to me but ultimately it’s totally irrelevant to how i like to enjoy fandom. in fact, my apathy about other people’s favorite ships is a major reason i am curious about how some people respond to each other/canon/whatever.

the main question is: why do people care what other people ship and why they ship it?

here’s what i got. this list is not ordered by importance.

1) purity culture

tbh i am kind of burnt out with thinking about purity culture. probably a lot of reasons are somewhat related to purity culture, but i don’t want to get into whether or not it’s ok for people to ship stuff they wouldn’t condone in reality (although for the record, if you couldn’t tell, my opinion is: ship literally whatever you want). so, moving on.

2) whether or not ships are likely to become canon

a lot of the time, this debate gets avoided either because none of the ships being argued over are likely ever to become canon, or because one of them is almost definitely going to become canon. sometimes it’s an argument about which relationship is more important, whether romantic or not (two examples: 1) most wincest shippers understand that sam and dean were never going to kiss on the mouth on tv, but are very invested in the brothers’ relationship being the central relationship in the show regardless. 2) debates over whether elsa in frozen should have a girlfriend or stay single).

much of the time, people get passionate about ships going canon because of issues of representation. wanting the queer ship; wanting the ship involving at least one character from an underrepresented group; wanting the ship that resonates with some meaningful experience much of the audience can relate to. that’s all cool. i get all of that. i don’t personally have many feelings about ships i like going canon because that’s not really part of the experience for me, but i understand why it’s appealing to others.

i do not, however, understand why some people whose ships might become canon care about telling people whose ships are never going to become canon that their ships are, uh, never going to become canon. like, in my experience, usually people who ship a never-going-to-be-canon ship know that it’s never going to be canon, and while they might be salty about it, they aren’t claiming that their thing is going to be what happens in canon. i get why never-going-to-be-canon shippers might get pissy at might-be-canon shippers because it sucks to “lose,” or because often (not always) might-be-canon ships are very popular comparatively and it can get tiresome to see your fandom dominated by something you don’t like/care about. but why do fans of popular (might-be-)canon ships get pissy about fans of never-gonna-be-canon ships, within fandom spaces?

a lot of this tension might be because of fandom dominance wars, rather than canon dominance wars. the never-gonna-be-canon shippers might feel that the might-be-canon shippers are dominating fandom spaces, but the might-be-canon shippers might feel that the never-gonna-be-canon shippers are dominating canon spaces. often when this happens both ships take up a lot of fandom space regardless of which takes up more, and might in fact be equally popular. so this might be just misperceptions about relative popularity, and feeling like your ship is being attacked/ignored disproportionately in the fandom when in reality it isn’t. i have definitely seen this sort of attitude from warring flagship supporters many a time.

but ok, to come back to why might-be-canon shippers make arguments against never-gonna-be-canon shippers based on likelihood of canonization: why? i don’t get it. i’ve seen this happen even with people who ship fully realized canon relationships arguing against people who ship fully non-canon relationships. why?

my instinct is to think that last one is a sore winner thing. like, you won dude. good for you. take your winnings and let everybody else lick their wounds/carry on with their own preferences in peace. i’m even inclined to think that canon shippers as a rule should ignore most baiting by non-canon shippers because losers should be allowed to be little a bitter, as a treat. but at this point, i realize that i have just made a claim about how people should act in fandom, and who am i to say that? no one. so: never mind. and it might not be a gloating thing anyway.

another piece of evidence i see people bring up in these arguments is about basis in canon, rather than likelihood of canonization. that seems like another major point, so let’s move on to that.

3) basis in canon

whether or not a ship is likely to become canon, there are lots of conversations about which ships make the most sense given evidence from the canon.

i, being a massive slut for characterization, get this sort of. usually even when i enjoy crack ships i want to make them work with textual evidence somehow. i personally just think it’s more satisfying to figure out how two characters might have met and what would have appealed to them about each other to lead them to connect/date/bang/whatever, even if it never happened and never will happen and nobody would even think about the pairing unless either they were trying to be funny or they were really far down a rabbit hole. that’s my own geeky cross to bear.

i don’t get why “basis in canon” makes any ship better than any other ship though. sometimes a ship is within reach of canon characterization/story, and the work to go from non-canon to canon is suuuper minimal. these ships make sense pretty much as they are. that’s cool! such ships are usually popular for a reason: they appeal to a lot of fans of the canon because not a lot has to be done to the source material to make it work. often, the more you have to modify/do interpretation footwork, the more people’s interesting is going to drop off because you’re getting further from the source, and the source is why everyone is here in the first place. (some fandoms are of course exceptions to this.)

but why is closer-to-canon better? sometimes the work to get from canon to a far-from-canon ship is really clever, and does actually make a lot of sense if you follow the reasoning. sometimes far-from-canon ships are satisfying in a way other closer-to-canon ships aren’t (at least to some people). sometimes far-from-canon ships allow for creativity that closer-to-canon ships don’t. sometimes the appeal of far-from-canon ships is none of that, and it’s purely because the ship is sexy, or it’s controversial, or it’s weird, or people have gotten tired of the fandom flagships and they’re looking for something new.

i don’t understand why any of that is worse than the reasons for shipping something with “more basis in canon.”

personally, i get tired of fandom flagships in most of the fandoms i’ve been in very quickly. furthermore, i lose interest in ships almost immediately if/when they become canon. that’s not a value judgment; it’s just a pattern in my own preferences that i’ve observed from 15+ years of fandom involvement. i enjoy having to work in the murky waters farther from canon to justify my weird little ships. i find the moment of canonization exciting and satisfying (and sometimes emotional and vindicating), but i do not enjoy watching people actually being in romantic relationships very much (part of this is probably due to the fact that i personally do not enjoy being in romantic relationships very much). i also just tend to enjoy elements of ships that a lot of people find off-putting, but this is going back to purity culture and, again, i don’t want to get into that. these preferences reliably lead me away from close-to-canon ships and fandom flagships.

(just to be clear: i’m not being attacked. i do not feel attacked. i'm just using myself as a rhetorical example here.)

does this make my taste in ships bad? i don’t know what "bad taste in ships” means, but if you’re going to say that my taste is bad, i’m going to want you to justify it.

does it make my taste in ships stupid? well, sure, i do like stupid shit sometimes. but i also feel that it would be strange, if not flat-out incorrect, to claim that my taste in off-norm ships is not thoughtful. i think about many of my far-from-canon ships a lot — often, i think about them a lot before i start shipping them/see anyone else ship them, and i decide i like the characters together because i’ve come at it from a character analysis perspective. i have liked ships for some extremely nerdy reasons. a lot of people who like far-from-canon ships get there because they like thinking about characterization and plot and symbolism. to be completely honest, i often end up liking rarepairs in part because the people who end up liking rarepairs often have higher overall intellectual skill and desire to think about things extensively on average than fans of fandom flagships do on average. so, is liking far-from-canon ships stupid? that’s subjective. is it unintelligent? probably not.

is enjoyment of these ships dumber when people don’t get there through a lot of analysis, or when they don’t try to justify their enjoyment once they’ve decided they like a ship? i have seen extremely well-written, clever, extensively researched fic about pairings the author had no interest in justifying, and imo that’s just as intellectually motivated as analysis about why the ship makes sense. so, i would say, no.

is it bad to ship stuff and have no intellectual interest in it all? i mean, everyone can have whatever opinion about this, but in my opinion, no. this is fandom. this is for fun-having. i’m a nerd, but not everybody has to be a nerd. sometimes i like to read stuff that is not nerdy, that just shows me something comforting or new or evocative and doesn’t ask me to care about how we’ve gotten there. i might care anyway, but that’s on me, and it doesn’t make my enjoyment better than the enjoyment of someone who doesn’t want to overthink it.

finally, even if a ship having no basis in canon does make it worse somehow, who cares? what is the point of arguing over ship quality, of all things? is it just elitism? is it defensiveness against criticism of fan work being inferior to original work? is it a desire for everything to make sense, paired with a belief that people prefer things that make the most sense? if anybody has read this far and has insight into this, please tell me. i see this so often, and it baffles me every time. i don’t really want to agree, but i want to understand.

so, i don’t quite get this one. i get parts of it, but overall, i don’t get it.

4) i don’t have a number 4. i put a number 4 when i started writing this post but i think i covered what i was going to say here in points 1-3. alternatively i forgot my 4th point in which case RIP.

if you read this far, i apologize for the messy organization. i wrote this primarily to sort out my own thoughts. i’m not sure it helped, but it was something to do for an hour XD

#please don't reblog #(idk why anyone would but)#(i am happy to chat though! i am genuinely interested! my questions are not rhetorical)#further disclaimer: none of this is about my current main fandom which seems blessedly tolerant compared to many fandoms #i say things

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