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lovelybunchof-roses · 1 month

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The Mansion and Its Residents - 2nd Person POV Story

You come upon a mansion, one that had never been here before. You look at the paper you were given, the address scribbled across it, almost intelligibly. When you first read it, you recognized it as being for a large, abandoned lot, one that many people used to dump their trash or claimed was haunted. However, when you mentioned it to people, they were confused. They stated that the Mansion has been there for years, housing a group of rather... interesting people. When you argued, they showed you pictures of the Mansion, established ten years ago. It was well-maintained, not a single empty beer bottle on the ground, or grocery bag flittering through the wind. You've been summoned to the Mansion, and against other people's suggestions, you are now here, at the bright red doors.

You reach out to the doorbell and press the button. You're not sure what you expected, but a regular-sounding doorbell ring wasn't it. Maybe something more.... grand? Original, even?

Not even a moment later, the door swings open. Standing there is a man with dirty blond hair. You remember from the photos seeing him, but you can't recall his name. He looks confused seeing you there, and you don't blame him. You don't know why you're here either.

"Uh, hi? Can I help you?" he asks you. You explain you received this address and what appeared to be a summons here. You take the written note out of your pocket and offer it to him. He accepts the paper and looks it over. He then sighs and shakes his head.

"Sorry. We don't get a lot of visitors here, however... it seems you've been made a guest of honor by the Mansion. Come in," he states, stepping aside to grant access into the building. You ask him what he means by that while you step inside.

"It's difficult to explain, not without starting from the beginning. However, it seems the Mansion would like to introduce itself, as well as us, to you. I'm Leon, and you've been cordially invited into our worlds," he goes on. Before you can ask another question, he starts leading the way deeper inside. You figure that it would be best to follow him, you don't feel like getting lost, and Leon seems trustworthy.

"First off, you seem to already know this place didn't use to be here. You're right, it didn't, but in bringing all of us here, something's happened to this world. It's like we've all been rewritten into it even though for us, we only got here a few days ago," Leon goes on, looking around the rooms himself. You notice a series of signs and labels either on or above the doors, as well as sections or pathways that were dark, the lights turned off. You ask Leon what he means when he says 'this world' and how he and apparently "the others" appeared here.

"We're not from here like I already said. I'm from what's labeled as the Raccoon City sector of the Mansion, whereas others are from places such as the Overworld, the Mushroom Kingdom, all sorts of places. All of our worlds are different, different stories, even different rules of reality. I don't have magic in my world, but many of the residents here do. I have man-made viruses that created entire zombie apocalypses and disasters, but their worlds don't. However, we all ended up here." While Leon told you this, you notice he was bringing you to the aforementioned Raccoon City sector. There's one room that has his name written across the door, and across from his room was another one with 'Wesker' written across it. Another one of the residents of the Mansion, you assume. Deeper down the hallway, there were other doors. How does this one hallway have so many doors? You didn't realize you asked the question out loud until you heard Leon chuckle.

"Believe you and me, we didn't get it either. According to one of the other members here, they muse it to be a timeline. Apparently, those are common in their world, and they're part of the group that seems the least fazed or bothered by this. Most of us are still taking time to process and adjust, but they've carried on life as normal. Along with these timelines are also a door to take us to what is called our... "canon" timeline? Apparently where we came from, where we can go back to at any point. It's not a hostage situation here, we're not forced to stay, but we have a bedroom to rest in, mostly free access to everything in this world, and the oddest part... receiving mail from others also in different or similar worlds."

You've basically just been told that multiple universes exist, and apparently, all of these people have been brought to a place that has bent reality to encompass all of them in one spot. You have no idea why you're being brought into this, and you're sure to point this out to Leon as well. You also ask again about the Mansion, and why he refers to it like it is a living thing.

"The Mansion is a living thing. They're an entity and the one who brought us all here. We don't know why, how, or for what reason. We've currently chalked it up to them being lonely, bored, or interested to see what happens when people of differing worlds come together. The Mansion set up ground rules and such, and we're expected to follow them. They're not malicious but definitely.... confusing," Leon states casually. You suppose you should have guessed the Mansion truly was living this whole time with how he talked about it. Or them?

"As for why you're here... who knows. I may be the head of the house, but that doesn't mean I know the ins and outs of everything here. I can only assume the Mansion has decided you're playing an important part of their story," Leon adds afterwards, continuing to walk through the Mansion, showing off the different areas. You then proceed to ask what Leon means about being the "head of the house" in this case. You guessed it wasn't the same as what most people meant it by.

"Oh, well I was one of the first residents to show up to the Mansion. I was given the responsibility of both keeping the peace and making sure the rules of the Mansion are followed. Not much else to say about it." Once shown the different places, you're brought back to the front of the Mansion. You didn't run into the other residents, so you ask about them as well.

"Oh, they're likely in their rooms. Like I said, this has been a big adjustment for most people. Personally... I feel like I remember being in this situation before, whatever that may mean. If you decide to come back, you'll likely see them. That's part of being the Guest of Honor, you're allowed in and out as you see fit. So... I suppose we'll be seeing you again. Or not. It's up to you."

#roleplay blog #rp blog #; drabble #m ; the government agent #Literally just wrote this to explain how I think of this idea of my multi-muse blog cause why not #I also just wanted to write something pfff

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kaypeace21 · 3 years

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Idk if this is possible or not or if you've done it already but could you list all the rainbow references in the show?

Haha- talk about pandora’s box. Sure, personally i think the rainbows have multiple meanings -3 meanings to to be exact

1) Rainbows being associated with psychics + Will’s powers plot twist

*We see in the stranger thing novel 'suspicious minds' when overusing powers you may hallucinate rainbows (which are also associated with the void/ monsters in the series) .

Terry: “Spots bloomed behind her eyelids. Every color … as the sunlight turned to rainbows” ( p44-45), “streaks of rainbow appeared (p47)”,“The rainbow stayed with Terry for a long while, but eventually it faded and in its place: darkness. A pit.”(p. 48).

Alice (who sees visions of the future) : “Snarling, snapping monsters,RAINBOW LIGHTS playing in the air around them” (p. 121).

cough Will being in the upsidedown/being chased by “monsters”. And Joyce communicating with Will via “rainbow lights.”

The rainbow room (from s2) also has a rainbow on the door- according to the novel kali drew that rainbow. Similar to Will's rainbow drawing. Kali in the book also creates a rainbow allusion with sunflowers (Terry ref).

Kali: “field of yellow sunflowers grew up around them. A rainbow arcing over the golden tops.” (p. 139). “He noticed she’d drawn up there, a rainbow with her colored pencils. Maybe he’d suggest that for the playroom” (the rainbow room we see in s2) (p. 298)

I also already talked about how Terry saying "breath, sunflower, rainbow " is actually a reference to s1 Will- here (in link including pic of Will and Terry being told to “breath”.

*El in s3 also thinks of papa, her mother , and the rainbow room- cause she sees a cereal box with a rainbow (on it).

Dustin and susie sing a song from the film adaption of the book "never ending story". Which indicates how Will is subconsciously creating the supernatural creatures & people in the series . Before they sing, we also see susie is next to a ‘wizard of oz’ posters & she reads & talks to Dustin about the book "wizard of earthsea'. 2 of the 3 examples have rainbow-related songs (in their film adaptions) & all 3 hint at Will’s powers.

* wizard of earthsea:

It’s about a pre-teen wizard named Ged who has a bowl cut (Will) who casts a powerful spell, but the spell goes awry and instead he releases a shadow creature (by opening a portal between the living & dead- Will is a zombie boy remember?)! The new Archmage, Gensher, describes the shadow as an ancient evil that wishes to possess Ged. But the ‘shadow’ turns out to be a representation of the darkest aspects of his personality. It’ only when he calls the shadow monster by his own name “Ged”(cough mf=will the wise) does the monster stop acting out. The only way to save the world is for ged to then merge with the shadow(and for Ged to accept himself-and “become whole”).This also reminds me of the “Jungian shadow”

* never ending story:

Bastian ( who has a bowl cut- and is from single parent house hold) subconsciously creates a fantasy world being over run by darkness (symbolizing the loss of hope and dreams). One of the characters he creates is Atreyu (El). Atreyu ( was the child deemed the ‘chosen one). “Atreyu is knocked into the sea of possibilities. There he wakes on the shore of abandoned ruins. And Gmorick (mindflayer) then latches his jaws onto Atreyu’s (El’s) leg.”Pretty much what happened to El.”The Empress in the story later tells Atreyu, that despite being told he was the chosen one (he never was). And that it was always Bastian (Will) who was the chosen one-since his imagination created Fantasia (so he’s the only way to stop the darkness from over -running it).”

Will has mental health issues and accidentally writes a “story” about the shadow monster (reflecting his tra*ma). Bastian is depressed (over his parent) and subconsciously creates a story about darkness over-running everything. Like how Hopper describes his depression- like a black hole.

song Dustin & Susie sing:

“Written on the pages is the answer to a never ending story” (cough the books susie referenced - are explaining the answer to what’s causing the mindflayer/upsidedown/the lab...this story )

“DREAM a dream. And what you DREAM will be” ( Will’s imagination making his nightmares come true)

“Rhymes that keep their secrets Will unfold behind the clouds.And there upon a RAINBOW Is the answer to a never ending story.”

(the lyric “rhymes that keep their SECRETS” purposely pans to Will both times the song is sung). Because the ‘SECRET’ is -he’s causing everything. And thus he’s the only way to stop it- or they’ll all be stuck in a never-ending story. The only way to stop it is for Will to face his shadow/the mindflayer (aka the other Will) who is always shown within the STORM CLOUDS . Will needs to create a RAINBOW (out of those storm clouds). Like rainbows that show up AFTER a storm.He’d do this by accepting himself , his tra*ma/mental health relating to his dad, and or his gay identity- then the story will be able to end.Dustin even says “ defeat his RAINBOW of DARKNESS” (and later says a “rainbow is the answer ”(to the story). st book:”The RAINBOW stayed with Terry for a long while, but eventually it faded and in its place: DARKNESS. A pit.”AKA: Will has to face his symbolic darkness and the storm/and than create a rainbow from it- for the story to end...

When Dustin says ‘rainbow of darkness’ he talks about my little pony- where one of their friends became a dragon. in d&d wizards can become dragons &Bastian also summons a dragon with his imagination powers in ‘never ending story’. And Will is associated with dragons: s1he has dragon comic & drawing, s2 Will has dragon poster in his room + watches his friends play dragon game. And again... dungeons & dragons.

Also tw for s.a/parental ab*se (so skip to ‘wizard of oz’ if you prefer ). In the 4th book of wizard of Eathsea (20 years after the original, where ged was the protagonist). The new main protagonist - was r*ped and burned by her father as a child (and in the sequel she became a dragon as a form of empowerment ). which goes with my lonnie theory-sadly.

*wizard of oz:

it’s about a Dorothy creating a mythical world based on people she both likes and dislikes . Dorothy sings in the movie a song about a ‘RAINBOW’ and references ‘DREAMS’ coming true in a mythical land -much like the ‘never ending story’ song (referencing “rainbows”/”dreams” coming to life).

“There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby Somewhere over the RAINBOW, Skies are blue, And the DREAMS that you dare to dream, really do come true...”

We see in s1 Hopper cop-partner calls the lab “emerald city”. Murray in s2 says people “don’t want to look behind the curtain” (to see what’s causing the supernatural -in the film what was literally behind the curtain was a wizard-cough like Will). We also have -lion, tiger, and bear stuffed animals (as a ‘lion, and tigers, and bears-oh my!’ quote )from the film. And David harbor (Hopper) when referencing the s4 rainbow room (quotes the song) and he also quotes a speech from Dorothy-when posting about the cabin the mindflayer destroyed.

2) Rainbow cups (hinting at Lonnie’s return)

We see 2 rainbow cups in the series.

in s2) when Mike & Will are sitting together & saying they’re “crazy together” . This cup next to them says “happy birthday” in rainbow. Later that season- they talk about Will’s birthday-rainbow drawing, Mike&Will meeting & Lonnie leaving. And in s2, we also see in Will’s room a card that says “sorry, I forgot your birthday”(most likely from Lonnie). So both Lonnie & Mike are associated with Will’s bday.

in s3) We see a woman yell “I don’t want her in my house!” (while she sits next to a rainbow cup). reminiscent of Joyce saying to Lonnie “get out of my house”. We also know there are rumors s4 takes place during Will’s birthday & Lonnie’s actor may have been spotted on set. Along with the fact (it’s pretty much confirmed) Mike will be visiting the Byers in s4. However, the woman (next to the rainbow cup) also says “2 visitor only. 2!″

THE 2 VISITORS ARE MIKE &LONNIE (for Will’s b day).

Also, in s3, when El is drinking from cup- she sees a rainbow. And what’s the first word she thinks of? “Papa.”

so rainbow+cup= shitty dads (lonnie & brenner) probably returning

*And of course if that’s the case -Lonnie (the same guy who called Will h*mophobic sl*rs) will not be supportive of Mike & Will’s “friendship”. And will not be nice to Mike (to say the least). Like... imagine Hopper in s3 - but we know he’s not bluffing and the audience won’t have the option to take it as a joke... and yes the s4 movies hint at that...

3) gay symbolism

First we have Mike wheeler. He in s1 has rainbows sheets, rainbow bedroom blinds , and in his basement there’s a heart propelled by a rainbow. This is like how in s3 Mike kisses El and there is a drawing that says "Mike'. And on the drawing is a heart propelled by a rainbow. I already explained how its symbolic of him trying to be straight/fighting his feelings for Will, but wherever he goes a rainbow still follows (even when he tries being romantic with El). He’s trying to hide his “rainbow heart” by dating El- why in s3 (the rainbow-heart in his basement) mysteriously disappeared from his room (but a similar symbol follows Mike even when he kisses El).

Even in s2 when talking about Will (in the AV tech room): Mike is placed in the center of 2 objects : an object with 11 on it & on the right a rainbow apple (this apple is supposed to be an ode to the gay father of computers- but also about the forbidden apple). Hinting at the love triangle of Mike (with El/Will). PLUS, in the ST book ‘worlds turned upsidedown’ they literally show Mike in the AV room- and put the caption “FALLING IN LOVE- with tech” (and placed rainbow flags next to the caption). And of course we have Mike & Will pose next to the rainbow apple- in the AV room.

We also see when Mike and Will says they’re “crazy together” (aka LOVE-as Flo stated) and they’re next to a rainbow cup that says Happy birthday .

And later that season they ref the rainbow ship Will drew for his birthday-which Joyce was "proud" of. And while dancing with a girl (Will according to the script was looking at Mike instead of her) . That girl is wearing a rainbow heart hair pin. This is essentially a parallel to Mike . Will (next to a rainbow heart) is dancing with a girl, but is secretly thinking of Mike. Mike (next to a rainbow heart) is kissing el but secretly thinking of Will (and immediately goes on a movie double date with Will after this). The lyrics of both these scenes indicate they're not happy pretending to be straight. The lyrics for Will are "every smile you fake". And Mike while kissing el is "just a little uncertainty can bring you down" (and during this lyric is when El puts her hands on him-and he removes her hands from him *aka he’s not as confident in the relationship as he pretends to be.

We see in s4 bts that the rainbow heart hair pin (worn by the girl Will dances with) is also worn by nancy while standing next to Robin (who is gay). So being near a ‘rainbow-heart’ is prob a hint a character is gay. Aka robin & Will & Mike.

tumblr user “awhstrangerthings” pointed out the nancy -hair clip detail.

In s1 when troy is calling Will h*mophobic sl*rs (in front of Mike) he wears a rainbow shirt. And max while often critiquing m*leven (in s3) (to Mike) often wears rainbow shirts. I talked about how I thought Troy and max subconsciously remind Mike he isn't straight - so they're associated with the rainbow iconography-post here. Like we see Max with rainbow sheets (like Mike) and than she immediately talks to him on the phone. I mean she could be queer- but I lean to that theory at the moment.

The whole being near rainbows when associating with a queer character makes sense (it’s like a ‘gay-dar”). Similar to Nancy’s hair clip when being near Robin/ that Girl having the same rainbow hair clip when dancing with Will. If we assume this theory than see a pattern with other characters (when speaking about/being near queer coded characters)....

it’s similar to how : When lucas (via subtext) criticizes m*leven- he is also next to a rainbow (in Erica's room). I explained here- why it’s about m*leven.

or when Jonathan says he’s going to hang out with Will (it’s near a rainbow).

This Jonathan moment -Is similar to when Steve ( who has a rainbow bandaid-from the Byers’ house) calls Mike “Nancy” (which is slang for a gay guy)

*another addition: you see in the comments of this post ghostgirlsatin mentioned Dart has a rainbow blanket. But, I noticed a couple of other things.

notice Dustin says "we have to talk- its about my friend ,Will". As Dustin is near rainbow lights and a rainbow bed sheet. Like how

A) rainbows are associated with the supernatural creatures + Will

B) rainbow lights associated with Will

C) rainbows near straight characters when talking about /near queer characters... similar to how Jonathan is near a rainbow when talking about Will

*also can’t tell if that is a ‘rainbow ship’ poster?

We also see Erica has a sunflower & rainbow drawing in her room... at the moment not sure if its just a random easteregg , foreshadowing something supernatural we're not aware of yet? or just for the m*leven diss?

(although given the fact i think some characters were created by Will- and given all the Max &Billy/Will & jonathan parallels ... the rainbow stuff may be a hint Will created them? I mean they even made a Troy comic just to show his dad is a bully.) But, at the moment, i still lean to (some) characters having rainbow iconography because they’re referring to/are near a queer character.

#will byers #byler #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #el hopper #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #jim hopper #joyce byers #stranger things #stanger things theory

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imagine-lcorp · 3 years

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Make You Feel My Love (One Shot)

MarvelsDC22 1K CELEBRATION!!!

Prompt

Person A falls through thin ice into sub zero water; person B rescues them and tries different remedies to prevent hypothermia.

A/N: Hello my dears!!! long time no see, but here I am once again and this time with a little piece celebrating my little rascal @marvelsdc22 since she reached the wonderful follower count of 1K!!!!!! She’s awesome, amazing and so so great, so go follow!!! and please enjoy this little piece I wrote for her writing challenge (hope you enjoy it too lil rascal). So here it is, thank you all for your patience and let me know what you think! love y’all!!!

Lena Luthor x R//Word Count: 3, 515

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When you invited Lena to your little cabin in the woods, the last thing you expected was for her to actually accept the invitation.

Not that you didn't want her to come but, after you uttered such invitation, you had realized just how awkward and creepy it sounded. You had been quick to explain your little cabin was in fact located within a little compound, around a small lake other little cabins shared.

"I would love to." She had said after listening to your little rambling, with a little smile forming in her face as you tried not to blush too hard.

Now there you were, trying to open the now stuck wooden door of the shack.

It was an early morning during the late winter when you made the trip but it was colder than you had expected it to be. There had been a couple of snowstorms a few days back and everything around was covered in snow. Fortunately, the roads had been cleared of snow and you had no trouble reaching your place, but the cabin had also been covered by snow and icicles. The door was stuck by it all and you kept pushing with your shoulder, and hoping the inside of your cabin wasn't a complete mess inside.

"Need some help?" Lena's voice startled you for a moment.

You turned around, watching as she approached you with your bags in hand. You had told her you would go to help her with them as soon as you opened the door but it seemed you were taking a bit more than expected.

"It's alright." You struggled for a moment, feeling your shoulder ache as you tried pushing the door once more.

With that and a little grunt, the door opened and you smiled triumphantly as you looked back at Lena.

"Uh, welcome to my crib?" You shrugged and Lena chuckled.

"Thank you." She handed you your bags.

You took a quick look around, noticing the little dust particles dancing with the rays of sunlight.

"Sorry if it is a bit dusty inside. It's been a while since the last time I came."

"When was the last time?" She stepped in and observed the place were you were supposed to spend five days together.

There was a big sofa, with a couple of cushions and colorful blankets, placed in front of a little fireplace. A big Persian rug adorned the floor between them and the walls around had paintings hanging from them. She followed as you walked inside and placed your bags in the floor except for the big one.

"Almost a year." You said walking through a short hallway Lena noticed lead to the kitchen. She left her bags along with yours and followed you.

You opened the big bag and started to fill the couple of pantries with the groceries you had bought for the trip. Cans of food, bags of snacks, bottles of water, and some more.

"A year? Doesn't look like it." She went to your side and started to take a couple of items of her own, helping you put them in their place.

"Well, I lend it to my friends from time to time or rent it for the holidays."

"So, you let a lot of people in here?" Lena questioned with a raised brow. "Strangers?"

"Sometimes." You thought for a moment before leaving a couple of snacks back in the bag. Only then you realized you missed a safety protocol.

For the past couple of years, since you have known each other, you had known Lena to be very cautious about the places she frequented. She wanted to make sure no one around was in danger, including herself, and that everywhere she went had at least an emergency exit in case she needed one. She always worried about people.

Your cabin, however, was surrounded by miles and miles of woods, had a lake in the yard, and the neighbor next door was at least ten minutes away from you. There was no emergency exit and practically no one around to help you if you turned into someone's target. You were living in a place for terror movies, of course she was worried you let strangers inside.

"Uh, I should check if everything is okay."

"We can go check after we're done with this." Your heard Lena chuckle again. "Don't worry, (Y/N)."

"You sure? I mean, I could make a quick scan or-"

"(Y/N), really, I'm sure there are no hidden dangers here. I was a bit surprised you would let other people stay here."

"Oh, okay." You said taking the last couple of food cans and opening one of the pantries. "It's just that, if there's someone else here, I can keep the cabin in good shape."

"Instead of leaving it abandoned, you get some money from it, right?" Lena smiled. "Who would have thought you were an entrepreneur of your own."

"Well, I may have picked a few things from you." You finished putting everything in place and closed the pantries. "But I think I still should check around, make sure everything is in place, and then we could light the fireplace. How does that sound?"

"Fine by me." Lena nodded. "But we should light the fireplace first, I can't feel my fingers." She raised her hands, showing you how her fingertips were slowly turning purple.

You made a horrified face and quickly went to grab some matches. Thankfully, the last visitors you had were kind enough to restock your little woodpile and leave some fuel. In a matter of minutes, the living room was filled with the comforting warmth of the fire and you and Lena sat for a moment in the sofa getting used to it.

You talked for a moment, mostly you, about the things you could try while you were there, which were essentially hiking, chopping wood for the fire, leaning how to cook with little food, and spend your days close to the fire.

"I know there isn't much to do, but that's the idea. Peace and quiet for a few days." You said pulling your head back to rest it on the sofa.

"It may not be much but that's all I need. I was starting to feel suffocated with all that was happening." Lena looked sad for a moment before leaning and taking your hand in hers. "Thank you again for inviting me."

You tried not to blush at the contact, remind yourself you and Lena were friends, close friends now, that were in the middle of the woods, sharing a little cottage for a week. Just the two of you. Alone. Nothing extraordinary. Something friends did all the time.

"Yeah, anytime." You said smiling and even when Lena noticed the redness in your cheeks, knowing perfectly it wasn't because of the cold, she smiled too. "Should we check the house now?"

"Sure." She said and you both stood from your seats.

First you searched the living room, where nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You even remembered it being exactly that way since the last time you had been there. You moved then into the kitchen, although you had already filled the pantries with food and snacks, there wasn't much to look into. Next, there were a couple of rooms, placed behind the living room and the kitchen and separated by the hallway. There was a bed in each one and Lena was a bit disappointed when you told her you would have your own rooms.

"No need to share a bed." You laughed a bit awkwardly and moved to check under one of the beds.

"Alright." She replied with a small sigh that you could hear.

You would have wanted to ask what that sigh meant but thought best of it. "All clear."

"Good."

You stood and walked to the door. "Alright, so, uh, this is your room and I don't know, I still haven't showed you the lake so maybe we could go for a while after we unpack."

"Okay, I like how that sounds." Lena said meeting you at the door. She was a bit closer to you than you would have expected and you felt your heart skip a beat. "Let's go for our bags."

"Right." You moved to the side and walked with Lena to the main door, unaware of the grin that had formed in her face. You took your bags and headed back to your rooms.

An hour later, you were out of the cabin, walking through the dirt road that lead to the shore of the lake. You had to kick your way through the snow that had accumulated around but you managed. The lake itself was frozen, the blue and white of the surface contrasting with the clear blue sky and the dark brown trees. The light reflected on it, making everything around brighter. It reminded you a bit of Lena's smile.

"It looks beautiful." She said stopping near the shore.

"It is." You said while looking at her.

"I get why you like this place." She turned to look at you and you couldn't help but smile.

"It's a little piece of paradise." You said stepping near her. "And I gotta show you a little thing."

You started to walk past the shore of the lake into it frozen surface, waking a couple of yards away.

"(Y/N), what are doing?" She said worriedly.

"It's alright, the lake stays frozen until spring so I can show you a little something."

You bent down to clear some of the snow on the surface and smiled when you got a glimpse of the fishes that could still swim in the cold water. Every time you stayed in the cabin you tried to fish under the ice out of curiosity and stubbornness. Many locals tried it too and although you had never caught anything, it was fun to try anyways. Maybe this time, with Lena's help, you could actually catch something. So you had, in fact, another thing you could do during your little vacation.

"Show me what?" Lena raised her voice. She was still standing along the shore of the lake, unsure if it was safe to follow.

You were about to answer when you heard a loud crack under your feet and Lena watched with horror as multiple fissures made their way on the surface of the lake where you stood. It seemed you had miscalculated the resistance of the ice you were standing and now you were in trouble.

Just like the lake, you froze in place, trying to keep yourself calm. If you could move slowly and steady enough towards the shore, this would be nothing more than a little scare.

"(Y/N)." You could hear the worry and fear in Lena's voice as she approached the lake.

"I'm fine." You raised your hands, trying to keep them out of your body for some balance, and looked at Lena with a little smile, reassuring her as much as possible. "The ice is a little soft here so I'm gonna move to the shore."

You took a short step forward but instantly regretted it as the cracks expanded along the ice. You felt the panic raise in your chest.

"(Y/N), please don't move." Lena said looking equally scared. "I'm gonna get you out, okay? Don't move."

"I won't." You swallowed hard, taking a couple of deep breaths, filling the cold air with a warm mist.

Time seemed to stop for a moment as you tried to calm yourself and watched as Lena approached the edge of the lake. She was going walking towards you and you feared this would only worsen your situation but not just for you but for Lena too. If the ice could hold her weight then you had a chance to reach her and get out of the lake without further problem. However, if the ice kept cracking it would put the two of you in danger and falling into freezing waters was not something you wanted to happen on your first day of vacation.

Lena took the first step into the lake, slow and steady, testing the ice under her feet. She was looking down, making sure she wasn't stepping on some other cracks, and raised her eyes towards you from time to time to make sure you were still in place. She was a couple of steps away from you when you both heard a loud cracking.

There was a look in her face you had seen a couple of times before but never directed towards you, a mix of fear and worry that let you know you were in trouble. You felt the ice move, so subtle at first but then like a tremor under your feet, and you were about to jump to the other side when you were sucked into the frozen lake.

First you felt the pain, as if thousands and thousands of shards of glass were being thrown at your body in a second. Then you tried to take a deep breath, which only made everything worst. You tried to move your arms and legs, to swim out of there but you couldn't. You had no control over your body and after the initial pain you started to feel numb. You couldn't breathe, you couldn't move. The only thing you felt was cold.

Suddenly, as you still fought for air, you felt even colder, with the winter breeze hitting your already frozen face. You coughed the water in your mouth and tried opening your eyes. Beside you, a tall greenish figure was dragging and pulling you from towards the edge of the lake, grabbing you by the back of your winter jacket. Only when you reached land the figure moved you, placing you flat on the dirt and putting her hands under you. They carried you all the way back to your cabin and, even when you couldn't think, you wondered where Lena had gone and if she was okay.

"I'm fine, (Y/N), I'm here." You heard the green person say and you wondered why they sounded so much like Lena.

You still couldn't move, or feel, when Lena reached your cabin door. She knew you were barely aware of what was happening as she carried you inside and placed you on the rug. Using the weaponry in her Lexosuit, she reignited the dying fire of your fireplace and found herself in a little moment of panic as she watched you lay there, trembling and hugging yourself.

Of all the things she imagined could happen, Lena never thought that you falling into freezing cold water was one of them. She had to think quick and fast before the symptoms of hypothermia started to take a hold on you. Leaving to get some help was no option, even using her suit to take you to a hospital would take considerable time you didn't have. So she did the only few things she knew could help you.

She took off her Lexosuit, something easy as she had modified it with nanotechnology to appear and disappear as quick as possible, like she had done with Kara's suit to use in case of emergency, and ran to your rooms to get all the blankets she could. She even found a towel for you head and took it with her. She put them in front of the fire to warm them while she moved you once again to take your own clothes off. You were soaked and hadn't stopped trembling.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N), I have to take this off."

She removed every piece carefully off your stiff body, your jacket, your sweater, your shirt, your boots, your socks, your pants, leaving you in nothing but your underwear, and tried not to get distracted by your sudden bareness. This was not the way she had expected to see you like this the first time. She put your clothes aside and put the towel around your hair to help it dry.

You still hadn't opened your eyes by the time she had finished, and were a bit unsure of what was happening, but you didn't complain since you started to feel a bit of warm. Your brain seemed to get back to working as you realized Lena had placed some blankets over you.

"Y-you hav-ve a s-supers-suit." You said through clattering teeth.

Lena, who feared you might be losing consciousness, let out a relieved breath.

"I have." She started to take her clothes off too and kept talking to keep you awake. "What do you think?"

"I-it's c-cool." You replied.

"Thank you." Lena finished putting aside her last piece of clothing and moved down towards you.

You could feel the blankets being lifted and a sudden mass of warmth pulling itself closer to you. You tried opening your eyes and in a second you could feel your own temperature rise like a boiling kettle. Lena's face was a couple of inches away from you, the mass of warmth you had felt was her own body, her own semi-naked body.

"L-Lena?" You said and this time you were sure the trembling in your voice was not due to the cold this time. "W-what are y-you d-doing?"

"Sorry but we have to keep you warm, alright?" She moved her arms, wrapping herself around you. "We need to stay like this for a little while."

"Just a l-little?" The words left your mouth before you could think better.

"As long as it takes." Lena said with a serious tone. "I'm not leaving you, (Y/N), so we better get comfy."

"I already a-am." You replied.

"Good. Now, you need to stay awake."

"A-awake, yeah." You nodded, closing your and feeling Lena's nose rubbing gently against yours. You were incredibly close to each other.

"I'm serious, (Y/N). Don't fall asleep."

"I'm not." You assured her.

Watching as you couldn't keep your eyes open for too long, Lena decided it was best to at least keep you talking.

"How do you feel?" She asked.

"Cold." You said still shivering.

"Can you feel your toes and fingers?"

You tried moving them. "A b-bit, I think."

"Good. Can you feel this?" You felt Lena as she moved her arms so she could held your hands within hers.

The contrast between you two was abysmal, you felt like a block of ice against a heater. She radiated such warmth and you were grateful you were there with the smartest and kindest woman in the planet or you would have been swimming with the fish.

"Yeah, I can feel it." You said and noticed some of your tremors had stopped.

"Okay, can you feel this?" Lena moved her legs this time, covering yours.

"That too." You felt the chills at that.

"Okay, we're making progress."

"Sorry." You opened your eyes with a pained expression in them. "You shouldn't be worrying about me."

Lena was a bit taken aback by your declaration but reassured you as best as she could. "There's nothing to be sorry for, and as for worrying about you, well, I'll do it gladly every time."

"Every time?" It was your turn to be surprised by her response.

"Yes." She said looking into your eyes. "You may not have noticed but I do worry about you, (Y/N), a lot. Maybe more than I should."

"You do?" You didn't know if your brain had suffered some damage but this conversation was taking an unexpected turn. A great and wonderful unexpected turn you had never imagined was possible for you.

Lena wasn't sure either about where the conversation was going, for someone used to getting things on her own way, she was finding it difficult to express what she wanted you to know. She had accepted your invitation thinking, that if you could spend some time alone together, you would realize how much into you she was. Now, there you were, almost naked under all the blankets she had found in your cabin and trying to get you out of your hypothermia, and you still didn't realize how caring and protective she was towards you.

If that was the case, she had to make a more direct demonstration.

"Yes, (Y/N), I do." She moved one of your hands against her chest, placing your palm where you could feel the beating of her heart. "Can't you feel it?"

Your own heart skipped a bit as you felt her pulse in your hand and your whole body seemed to shiver and not because of the cold. You felt you heart burst with warmth and, as you looked at Lena, you could tell she felt it too. No fire could compare to what you were experiencing and you thought to yourself that, maybe, falling into sub-zero water wasn't so bad at all.

"Yeah, I can." You finally said with a little smile.

#lena luthor imagine #lena luthor imagines #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor x you #lena x reader #lena x you #make you feel my love #one shot #writing prompt #marvelsdc22 1k celebration #marvelsdc22

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amor-immortalem · 3 years

Text

I Think I'm OKAY

genre: Angst, hurt comfort

length: two parter

warning(s): Feelings of abandonment, self-depreciating thoughts, suicidal thoughts (briefly), feelings of not being good enough, feelings of being unneeded and unloved

A/N: its just been a day guys. And Ive been think about this all day so I just wrote to get tge thoughs out of my head.

this takes place a few months after the epilogue of Everything Undesired where Azalea is still coming to grips with the fact that she's not her father's heir like she always thought she had been. Mammon and Arella really did try to make time for her but things just never worked out in their favor and it ended up giving their daughter abandonment issues.

She’s lost. Not physically but mentally- Azalea doesn’t know where to go or what her purpose is. Ever since her older brother returned from where ever the hell he’s been her whole life, she’s felt more alone than ever before. From her parents being busier than ever helping Cyrus readjust to life here in the Devildom to her twin brother being curious enough about their new older brother to spend all his time trying to get to know him, no one has time for Azalea any more.

Whenever she tries to reach out to either her parents or her brother she gets blown off. It’s always ‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t make it.’ or ‘I’m sorry, I forgot that was today.’ Forgot? How does one just forget about their child? And Azalea is sorry too. She’s sorry for existing. Maybe everyone is just tired of her. Maybe they didn’t need her anymore? After all, she was just her father’s back up plan. A back up plan. Yeah, it sounded as bad as it hurt- to think that’s the only reason he kept her around all this time. Despite how she might try, all she could ever do is fuck up. Why would her parents ever need a child like that?

She feels abandoned, unneeded. All she ever wanted was to make them proud- she pushed herself to maintain the perfect grades just for their praise. Hell, she’d even forced herself to take advanced placement and honors courses just for their approval but they hadn’t even noticed. And it’s not like she hadn’t tried to show them. The last report card she got in her last year of middle school had a note attached to it stating that when she entered RAD, she’d be welcomed into the advanced courses but of course they had been too busy to even look. Both of her parents assumed nothing had changed so they just didn’t need to see something they had seen hundreds of times already.

Why did they stop loving me? The half-demon thinks to herself, Was it all the fights? Was I not good enough for them? I wish I could make them happy the way my brothers do. I wish I was perfect like them, maybe then they wouldn’t have forgotten about me. Maybe I would still belong. What did I do wrong? Azalea can feel the tears dripping down her face. I’m crying? Again? Pathetic. People like me don’t cry.

She hurriedly wipes them away as she looks up at the stars that dot the night sky of the Devildom. She’s pretty high up on a rooftop. She wonders if a fall from this height might kill her or would it just leave her badly injured- the idea’s tempting. She’d come up here to clear her mind and sort out her feelings with how things had changed- how everything she thought she was meant to be had been ripped away from her, but it had just made things worse. She thought she was okay with all this change but after trying for months to find something new to do with the rest of forever, she found out the only thing she was ever any good at was getting into fights. Sure, she’d taken up sports on her uncle Beel’s suggestion but that led to even more pain when time after time, neither of her parents could be bothered show up.

Her phone lights up with a text from her father.

Dad:

Why weren’t ya at dinner today?

Azalea:

Why weren’t you and Mum at my meet today? Ya know like you promised ya would be?

Dad:

‘Zay c’mon don’t be like that. We said we were sorry but something important came up and we couldn’t make it

Azalea:

Sure whatever you say old man

Its what you always say

It's always something more important ain’t it?

Something more important than me.

Dad:

Azalea

Azalea:

Shove it old man. I don’t wanna hear it right now.

She always gets the short end of the stick. For parents that claim they care about her, they sure had a shitty way of showing it. As the family’s resident trouble maker, she’s not good enough for them. Whatever, she doesn’t even need them anyway. She deserves better than a family that doesn’t care. A family she no longer has a place in. And that was fine by her. Now that she’d finally admitted it to herself, she found it would be easier to ignore her entire family and live life depending on only herself.

With a shuddering huff, the girl shuts her D.D.D off and shoves it in her jacket pocket. She leaves the roof top, still in tears headed for the House of Lamentation.

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“Arella, I have to go and find our daughter.” Mammon sighs as he gets his jacket on.

“She’s still upset about the track meet, isn’t she?” The black-haired human frowns “If you’ll give me a moment, I can ask Aurelius if he’ll watch Mahlon and I’ll go with you. This is something we should address together.”

“I don’t think we got the time to waste, Hon. She stopped respondin’ ta my texts and isn’t answerin’ her phone. If I don’t go now, she might so something to herself. I’ll be able to cover more ground quicker if I fly since she could be anywhere- even up high where we wouldn’t be able to see her that easily.”

“Then go on, I’ll talk to her when she gets home.” Arella nods as her husband leaves.

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

She enters her room through the garage door entrance. She really didn’t need to considering Azalea was the only one home currently. She knew Aurelius and Zulima would be gone for the rest of the weekend but still she locked her door to prevent any unwanted visitors- mainly her parents as she knew they’d probably come looking for her after the message she’d sent to her father earlier.

She looked over at the stack of unopened akuzon boxes- all gifts sent to her by her parents as ‘apologies’ for various things. Yeah sure, gifts were nice when they were for things like birthdays or Christmas but not when they were used as a way to placate her feelings when her parents missed things like track meets or science fairs or school functions that they promised they would be there for. It felt like a shallow apology so Azalea never opened any of them. They were starting to collect dust now.

Just because greed is her sin doesn’t mean its satisfied by material objects alone. There was more to it than that. Her sin specifically manifests with being greedy for healthy interpersonal relationships- things like money or material objects only did the bare minimum to help keep it under control and satisfied. She wanted her parents’ attention and only that so when they failed to keep their promises, it hurts her deeper than either of them understands- Azalea doesn’t even have the words to describe how it hurts her.

As she plops down on her sectional and flips on the projection of stars and constellations from the human world to calm herself down, she thinks about the way her greed is eating her alive as she turns on some music- a song her friend from the human world showed her called ‘I Think I’m Okay’. It was a song she really related to for some reason. As the song plays on loop, she thinks about how when she was younger- before her youngest brother was born- she was always of healthy weight and body condition. Nowadays with the lack of ability to satisfy her sin, she was just skin and bone. Despite eating constantly, she always feels like she’s starving and she’d be lucky if she weighed in at 90 pounds soaking wet- all of it coming from the weight of her bones and muscle. Her body is just burning through everything too fast and at this point Azalea doesn’t know whether or not she even has the energy to waste to transform into her demon form anymore.

The half-demon hears a faint knock at the door. Maybe if she doesn’t answer then whoever it is will get the hint and go away. As she watches the door open, a scowl appears on her face. Of course her father would pick the lock on her door. She doesn’t know why she’s even surprised right now. He never knows when to leave well enough alone.

“We need to talk...” Mammon says as he sits down on the couch next to her.

“I don’t wanna. Get lost.” the teenager rolls on to her side away from her father.

“Too bad. I’m not leavin’ until we do.”

“Then prepare ta die in here cuz I refuse.” She can’t let him fool her into accepting his apology when she knows full well he doesn’t mean it.

“You really are just like your ma sometimes- stubborn as all get out.” He sighs. “I see ya never opened yer packages. Why?”

She continued to ignore him. How can she get out of this? Maybe if she closed her eyes, she could fool him into thinking she was asleep.

Just get frustrated and leave already. It’s what ya always do when I won’t talk to ya.

She waits an hour, two, three but still he doesn’t leave.

Man is this getting annoying! Why won’t he just give up and go home already?

“Well, since ya won’t talk, I will. Ya know, Mom and I really are sorry we couldn’t be there this afternoon... I know you’re upset about it but we got called to an emergency meeting at the castle and we... kinda... forgot what time it was by time we were done. I know we don’t have a lot of time to spend with ya anymore but things are just so crazy right now... it’s difficult and when ya act like a brat like this it doesn’t make things any easier.” And Mammon realizes too late that he’s said the wrong thing and put his foot in his mouth.

“Right... cuz that’s all I am is a spoiled brat...” Azalea can’t help the way her voice quakes. “I’m a brat because I asked for you and mum to pay attention to me over the boys just this once and you two let me down and now, I’m getting blamed for being as upset as I am. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.”

“Azalea, that’s not what I meant and you know that,” Mammon places his hand on her shoulder to turn her over and is shocked when all he feels is bone and muscles that are beginning to atrophy. “What are you doing to yourself? Yer nothin’ but skin an’ bone, Baby.”

“I’M NOT THE ONE WHOSE DOING THIS TO ME!” she roars as she hops up from the couch. “IT’S YOU TWO. YOU’RE THE ONES DOING THIS TO ME!” and then her voice suddenly drops. “But you would notice that if you spent more than five seconds with me. My greed is eating me alive and it’s your fault. I’ve tried for months to get you or Mum to spend time with me and I get forgotten about every time because something ‘more important’ comes up or you also make plans with Aurelius or Cyrus and choose to do that over spending time with me. It’s either that or you both choose Mahlon over me and it’s literally killing me. I get that they all need you guys too and I’m not more important than them but it feels like they’re more important to you than me. And I hate it because...” She lets out a sob as she sinks to her knees, “Because you two are the most important people to me.”

Mammon looks at his daughter with a horrified look on his face. His only daughter feels like she’s not important to them but she was right in a way. Both he and Arella had been choosing her brothers over her- not intentionally but he can see why she would come to that conclusion. This was a very crucial time in her life having had everything she thought she was taken away and she was lost with no clue where to go. He and her mother should have been right by her side, helping her find a new path in life this whole time but instead they got so wrapped up in work and other things that now their daughter was suffering the consequences.

“No, baby that’s not true.” The demon says as he wraps his little girl up in his arms. “You are so important to us too.” He rubs her back as he rocks her back and forth, “We love you so much and I’m so sorry we haven’t made ya feel like that. We’re gonna do better from now on. I promise, okay?”

Azalea is hesitant to nod. How many times had she heard the word promise and then had that promise broken but even now as she’s wrapped up in her father’s arms, she’s starting to feel the overwhelming weight of her sin slowly start to go away. She just rests her head against his chest as her puffy teary blue to gold eyes start to slip closed ever so slowly.

“Sweet dreams, Princess.” He says as he runs he hand through her hair and places a kiss to the top of her head.

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Find more on my masterlist

#obey me next gen #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me angst #obey me mammon #mammon angst #om! mammon #obey me oc #arella #azalea

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slippinmickeys · 3 years

Text

A Sequel: Amazon Archeologist/Scientist AU, Part 2:

You can read on AO3 here.

1. “How does it feel to have cured cancer?” asked Kathy Lee. Scully couldn’t take her eyes off the rim of the host’s wine glass; it was smeared with lipstick, and the wine contained therein had legs, running down the bell curve of the glass in thin amber stripes.

It was oddly, surreally quiet on the unnaturally blazing stage -- multiple cameras pointing at them, a team of professionals sitting in dead silence in the dark spread out below.

“I only wish I’d done it sooner,” Scully said, going off script a bit. “I think of the people that died while we were still searching, still researching, while the studies were being checked and… I just wish I’d found it sooner.”

The host’s face softened, and she reached forward and put her hand over Scully’s on the arm of the chair where it was resting. She gave it a squeeze and Hoda took over, “Up next, the group BTS is going to sing us their latest single!”

There was a dull bell that rang off to Scully’s right and the stage manager stepped forward, headphones clomped over his ears, his mic slung low around his jaw.

“We’re clear!” he called, “Sixty seconds!”

The show would be cutting to a co-host standing at a stage set-up outside 30 Rockefeller Center. Scully reached up to unhook the mic attached to her lapel, and a trio of sound technicians descended on her. In ten seconds, she was relieved of all equipment, and she was left swaying in the funnel of the Fresnels on the too bright stage.

“You did great,” she heard from her left, and the show’s host winked at her, and retook her hand, leading her to the dim cool just off stage.

She found Mulder standing before her once her eyes adjusted, just outside the reach of the stage lights, looking nervous and out of place, his hands clasped behind his back. He was wearing a turtleneck and a suit coat, looking every inch the tenured professor.

“And who’s this?” Kathie Lee asked, looking at Mulder brightly.

Scully shook herself, trying to remember her manners. It wasn’t always easy, having spent so much time in the field.

“Uh, this is Mulder,” she said, “Dr. Fox Mulder. My, um… my fiancé.”

The television host smiled warmly at Mulder and clasped his hand.

“I’ve heard the story of your meeting,” Kathie Lee said, “It’s a real pleasure.”

“I’m a big Giants fan,” Mulder said, giving her hand a firm shake, “the pleasure’s all mine.”

The host winked at him and then stalked off, and Scully exhaled, falling a little into Mulder’s side.

“I’m glad that’s over,” she said.

“The price you pay for changing the course of human history,” Mulder mumbled, squeezing her into his side and kissing her hairline. He led her off the soundstage and into a waiting limo.

2. It had been a whirlwind since the Nobel Prize Award ceremony in Stockholm. It was cold in Sweden in December — especially to a person who’d spent years in the humid jungles off the beaten paths of the world, and she and Mulder both felt out of place and perpetually in the clasp of a bone-clutching chill.

“I just want to be back in the field,” she’d whisper to him, and he would kiss her hand. With the prize money, they could buy a house, start a family — but they both would rather be in a jungle somewhere, sweating into the other’s skin on a too-narrow cot, in a too-hot clime. There was no science when they were in the cradle of the other’s hips, there was just each other. Sex made life more simple. Sex made life more fun. But sex didn’t cure cancer. Pleurotus Mulderatus did that, and the world wanted to hear about it.

3.She had a free ticket. Any university, any assignment.

“I feel pressure,” she told him, her nose pressed into his ear. “What do you do after you’ve cured cancer?” she asked, earnestly, “there’s nowhere to go but down.”

He’d taken her to Rhode Island, to his family’s cottage in Quonochontaug, creaky and drafty and smelling of mildew and old pine. No one had visited in decades and everything needed to be cleaned and aired out.

They kayaked and frolicked in the waves, drank coffee in adirondack chairs and listened to the pinched squawks of hovering sea birds. They’d find a place in the dune grass, down low where the wind wouldn’t catch them. They’d soak up the sun and then go into the cottage and make love between the knotty pine walls, their moans absorbed by the thick shag carpet laced with the grit of sand, faded drunkards path quilts nailed to the walls.

“Down is a state of mind,” Mulder would murmur into her ear, “Up is fighting gravity. You have nowhere to be but here. You have no one to impress but me.”

He would catch her lips with his own and they would sink into each other gratefully.

4.Mulder was burning pancakes in the kitchen when there was a dull knock on the screen door.

Scully was laughing at Mulder’s culinary ineptitudes when she turned toward the sound, her laugh fading when a well-done-up woman appeared on the stoop, holding her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun’s glare, trying to see into the murky depths of the house.

“Are you press?” Scully asked through the screen door glumly, her mood taking a nose dive.

“I’m Samantha,” the woman said, and it took Scully a full five seconds for her synapses to fire, to figure out the identity of the visitor.

“Oh my god,” Scully said, swinging the door open to admit the polished woman waiting on the other side. The door itself was swollen with humidity and didn’t shut all the way -- it caught like there was a second latch. “Come in, come in!”

Samantha had a full head of thick hair just like her brother, but it was curled and tawny, streaks of not-quite-blonde highlights running from the roots. She was wearing Lily Pulitzer pastels, and would have looked at home in a sun hat or on the pages of Coastal Living.

“You must be Dana,” she breathed, smiling widely. Scully nodded and looked around self-consciously. “God, this place hasn’t changed in thirty years,” Samantha finished, shaking her head ruefully. “Where’s Fox?”

“Kitchen,” Scully said, inclining her head toward the cooking space, though she knew Samantha knew right where to go.

“You’re using the cast iron?” Samantha said boldly and apropos of nothing, stepping into the sunny kitchen, “God, I hope you seasoned that thing.”

Mulder’s face brightened at seeing his sister, and he turned to her fully, enveloping her in a hug, a greasy spatula in one hand, held out so as not to soil her clothes.

“Like you can cook,” he drawled, turning back to the smoking pan.

“I know enough to hire a caterer,” she said, plunking down in an olive green vinyl kitchen chair, looking at ease but totally out of place in the dated decor of the cottage. “So. Who do I have to fuck to get a mimosa around here?”

“Me,” said a voice from the entryway. The screen door slammed ineffectually shut and Scully’s own sister Melissa stood awkwardly in the slant of sun showing through it, holding several plastic bags laden with glass bottles and juices, a hopeful, nervous smile on her face.

“Missy?!” Scully squeaked, and Mulder looked to the door, his face chagrined and pleased as Scully launched herself at her sister, wrapping herself in the earthy patchouli smell of the woman, the plastic bags clunking to the floor at their feet.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“I got ordained online,” Melissa said, drinking a Bellini from a yellow smiley-face mug, her feet tucked under her on a rough-hewn dining chair. “It’s perfectly legal.”

“But it’s--” Scully started, then abandoned her argument. She looked to Mulder desperately, who smiled and plunked a cup of hot coffee in front of her.

“It was only an idea,” he said, squeezing her hand and sliding an ancient sugar dish in front of her. The crinkles around his eyes had hardened in the ocean-reflected sun, lending him an air of easy humor she hadn’t witnessed much of in the jungle.

“Don’t you need two witnesses?” she asked, realizing how lame it sounded the second the words were out of her mouth.

Samantha leaned over and grabbed her hand, squeezing her fingers in such a way that made her feel bolstered and secure. “Not in Rhode Island,” Mulder’s sister told her, looking her square in the eye.

“We don’t have to do it,” Mulder said, still standing at her side, “but I thought…”

She felt overwhelmed with emotion, thinking of her father, who hadn’t lived long enough to witness her greatest achievement, which would have saved his life.

“Mom sent her wedding dress,” Melissa said, holding up a garment bag -- it was a yellowed ivory in the kitchen sun, the zipper up its middle aged and brittle.

XxXxXxXxXxX

They exchanged vows on the beach in front of the old cottage in a whipping Atlantic wind. Gulls hovered overhead and the sun was as bright as a brass doorknob, the air clearer than glass.

Samantha had read a poem by an amateur poet named Tim Pratt called Scientific Romance (Mulder having confessed to her later that night that it only seemed right to have had a reading replete with scientific notation for a wedding between two people such as themselves). Melissa had read words as old as the institution of marriage itself and they exchanged simple rings and had eyes only for each other. Scully handed her bouquet -- a small posy of wild swamp azalea and yellow flag that Melissa had picked the hour before -- to her new sister in law as she strode up the peeling wooden steps of the house. Mulder had insisted upon carrying her over the threshold and Melissa and Samantha had stood back thoughtfully, and were now sitting closely on the beach, heads bent together, talking in hushed tones.

Scully didn’t know quite what to do with herself, dressed in old lace in the heavy salt air, her left ring finger feeling as heavy and pendulous as an old bell. Mulder wrapped his arms around her from behind and told her they never had to leave.

“Nobel Laureates live in Rhode Island, too, you know,” he whispered into the hair behind her ear.

“Mmm,” she said happily, watching her sister and his dig their feet in the gritty sand.

He kissed the skin where her shoulder met her neck. “Life can be as simple as the state motto.”

“Which is?” she asked.

“Hope.”

5. She stood above the riverbank, the grass a trampled, muddy squelch. A monkey called from overhead, a high primate shriek that echoed through the canopy. Its compatriots soon joined in, the welcoming committee announcing the rare arrival of a visitor.

He sat in the back of the approaching hollowed-out canoe, his knees practically to his neck, the lanky bones of him jutting out at all angles. He wore jeans and chambray, all wrong for the climate, but the blue set off the dark mink of his hair, and his eyes -- as green as the river upon which his boat perched -- caught hers from twenty yards away -- they held her gaze as the craft glided to shore, and he leapt off with the galumphing grace of a power forward.

“Dr. Scully I presume,” he said, finding his balance on the slippery shore and reaching a hand forward. She clasped it gratefully, then brought it to her belly, which was protruding out like a carved fertility statue, a life-sized goddess, gravid and full. “I thank God, doctor, that I have been permitted to see you,” he finished, and they embraced on the shores of the jungle river, perspiring and damp and finally, finally feeling at home.

#fanfic #msr #my fic #the x-files #au #prompts #drabble ish

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thanekrios · 3 years

Text

A desert of his own

Summary: Shepard dreams of a dead planet. Irikah tells Kolyat a myth of creation. And Thane sees a desert.

Note: I wrote this many years ago. Posted it here when I was galifreyas, so the original post is lost. This is still up @ my much abandoned AO3.

Let us start with a planet that has been dead for centuries. Let us tell some fictions and some realities about it. It is up to you to believe which ones are true.

What about a woman who dreams of the deserts of Rakhana? Deserts carpeted with purple weeds that are inhabited by silvery lizards she has named the afa’el. In her dreams, the afa’el sing – no, that’s not what they do, the old melodies once sung by burning stars echo in them. Sometimes it sounds like they are humming and others, they appear to be reproducing three songs at once. She watches the ira, cactus-like succulents, glowing in announcement of the dawn of a new season as the cavernous voices of an ancient creature or a sinking sun make their way across the planet, from afa’el to afa’el and finally they reach her. She hears and understands their wordless mellow stories.

They tell her of the Endu, the biggest flower to ever exist in any world, which according to legend had bloomed in an unforgiving desert and was encountered by a group of nomads who sought it as a symbol of Arashu and built the biggest civilization around it.

She learns of how Rakhana came to be. How it was once a frozen egg, drifting away in the Sea of Stars, and how a maiden made of gold nourished it back to life.

The woman, whose name is Shepard, visits the great desert of Alasere religiously. She enjoys standing there, sinking her feet in a golden ocean, listening to the afa’el murmur words in Rakhani long forgotten.

She learns of fihanda, which roughly translates to the guilt a child feels when they recognize dishonesty in their parents or in an older authority figure. There is amuefto, the gift of finding beauty in a person and seeing it reflected in their faces, regardless of their looks. Taverena, an expression of gratitude only used when someone has made a true impact one’s life, making it out of the ordinary. And then, tah-sehe.

“I will miss you, Shepard. Tah-sehe,” had been the last thing she heard from Thane’s lips before he left the Normandy. For a while, she whispered tah-sehe to herself while embracing the mundane. It would fill the room in the form of a silly melody muttered while she watched the rain pour; or as a gurgling sound while she took a shower. It was imprinted on her mind. It isn’t until the afa’el sing morosely about the last chapter in their planet’s history, that she discovers tah-sehe is not a word to be said lightly.

She comes to understand why Thane, who turns the simplest of sentences into splendid verses, had felt it necessary to utter that word – because I will miss you was but a fragment of what he wished to convey. Tah-sehe meant more than to miss someone; it was a profound emotional state of infinite yearning, of not being able to experience life to the fullest, of having lost the most significant part of oneself. The concept originated during the great exodus of the 1980s, as the first generations of drell settled in Kahje carried the name of the tah’sehen, the ones who dwell in what’s lost.

It didn’t matter whether those were dreams weaved by longing. Tah’sehe migrated from her head to her heart.

During the days, as the Vancouver rain attempts to wash away her dreams, she convinces herself that if she can capture at least a fraction of the beauty of the deserts she wanders in and if she can translate it into a form, any form, the dormant planet of Rakhana will be awaken.

For a while, Shepard considers writing about every beast, plant and insect she has come across in her journeys but she has never been one to confuse her desires with her abilities. Writing, just like dancing, does not come naturally to her. And while she is a gifted saxophone player, she was never much of a composer. Yet, she tries.

Thane had caught her once practicing one of her unpolished pieces, one she referred to as “if calluses were a song, this would be it.” He had asked her to play it for him. She knew he’d listen, he’d truly listen, and not just that…he’d remember.

“Ugliness is abundant in this galaxy. Let’s not add up to it.” She said, putting down her sax.

“When you play, I hear a reminder of beauty and laughter and life. What you do is extraordinary, siha. To transform the dreadful slices of the universe, its eruptions and its vast darkness into a stream of ecstatic sounds, a blast of playful rhythms. You create things when there is but destruction around you. There is value in that. I hope you see it someday.”

Encouraged by his words, she composes a few songs that don’t come to even faintly remind her of the fierce and dry winds scattered across the planet. She can’t feel its vibrant colors in her slow and melancholic tunes, as they are permeated by the city she sees through her window and a sky that won’t stop weeping.

That is when she starts making terrariums resembling the deserts she visits. She thinks, if she is ever lucky enough to see Thane again, she’ll hand him a desert of his own. She can still hear him:

“I would much like to see a desert.”

* * *

After Kolyat leaves Huerta Memorial, so does Thane. He sees him walk away in a pristine white hallway and at the same time, a young Kolyat attempts to step on his father’s footprints. He can smell salt and iron and antiseptics and detergent, and hear machines beeping and waves crashing. Kolyat is saying something, he wants to be heard, but what might have been the most important words ever spoken are drowned by the roaring of the sea. He just stares at him and waits for his father to react and after a pause, disappointment is written all over his face. Thane asks him to hurry up and a young Kolyat walks reluctantly towards him, this time ignoring the trail of footprints left by his father.

He wishes his recollections were malleable, he often hears of humans enriching their past with fictions; or of conflicts among them springing from a poor recollection of events. But a drell’s memories are unforgiving –they can, on occasion, overlap with reality–but never be rewritten.

His mind takes him to that same evening, after Kolyat asked him to dance with him but he refused, as he was getting ready to go to work. He doesn’t see blighted hope but despondency in his child. Kolyat still wishes him a pleasant journey, as he always does, and runs to his room. He should have kissed his forehead. He should have made him feel like he was the brightest sun in the Zahel Sea cluster, the most vital spring of energy in his life.

As he is lacing up his shoes, he hears Irikah’s voice. Whenever she puts Kolyat to bed, her voice is soft and gentle. Like most nights, she is telling him a story. Irikah was always the better storyteller. Irikah was always the better everything.

“Now as everybody knows, the Land of Whistling Dunes was the child of a maiden made of gold, whose heart’s one desire was to drink from the Sea of Stars” says Irikah.

“The Milky Way” Kolyat mouths the words as his mother speaks them.

Irikah nods gently before continuing her story:

“The maiden, who shoned in silence in the skies, knew her womb was barren for a blazing flame lived inside of her. She watched the ages pass and her younger sisters descend to the Sea and drink from its starry tides; and one by one, they all bore and gave birth to the Sea’s children. And as eons passed, the children danced around their mothers; and the mothers swayed gently in the Sea.

The maiden, lonely and scorching, continued to long for the Sea’s kiss, until the day all eyes turned to the death of her older sister, whose cries of pain were carried by the waves, scattering them across the galaxy. And with her passing, her children came to perish too. It was then the maiden dove into the Sea of Stars and gulped its darkness greedily, for she desired children of her own.

The waves whipped her mercilessly as punishment for her insolence, tearing her flesh open. But the maiden didn’t yield; she drank until no more fire dripped from her mouth, she drank until the tides had dragged her sisters and nieces and she had swallowed them whole, she drank until the radiant sea was almost pitch-black.”

Irikah pauses. Something is happening.

Thane hears a gasp that doesn’t fit in their house, it doesn’t belong in the past. A horrified gasp. He recognizes the padding of shoe soles brushing against the floor and the sharp rhythmic piercing sounds of heels. There are many of them. Nurses, patients, visitors, doctors. They’re gathering near him. A man raises his voice, demanding everyone to be quiet. Another voice protests, only to be followed by Doctor Michel shushing the crowd and asking someone to turn down their hand terminal’s sound, so everyone can listen to the same thing.

Then, Irikah’s narration comes to him in long, heavy echoes.

He wants to be home as much as he wants to discover what is happening around his body. He can feel reality piercing its way through, the white pristine light of Huerta Memorial filtering through a crack in the wall he always meant to fix. Another voice slides in, distant and resonant, and he can’t make out what it says. He ignores it. He needs to hear the end of Irikah’s tale. That memory must remain unspoiled, uninterrupted. It’s the last story he ever hears her tell.

He hangs onto it; everything else must wait just a little longer.

“The Sea, heartbroken after witnessing the death of so many of his kin, felt conflicted as he desired retribution but didn’t wish to feel emptiness any further. He then presented the maiden with a choice: he would spare her life if she looked after an egg that had lost its guardian centuries ago; and if she was able to give life to a daughter who existed suspended in a shell of ice and yearned to see the light, her crimes would be forgiven. As the maiden accepted his offer, the pale egg rose up out of the sea. She held it tight, keeping it warm until the day it hatched and came to love it. And so, a winged silvery lizard was born. Her name was Rakhana.”

“Reports are coming in from the cities of London, Seoul and Vancouv—“

She is almost done. Let her finish.

“It’s said that Rakhana’s mother could not stand her daughter flying far away from her, for she was terrified that her only companion would abandon her. So Rakhana, who very much loved her mother and wished to make her proud, danced near her despite the sultriness she felt around her. Eventually, her entire body blushed with red desert flowers and her skin blistered and turned hot and dry. The lizard curled up and fell into a deep slumber as her skin turned to soil; and her breath became wind; and from her backbone a mountain range was born; and while she gave life to many, she failed to save them from the maiden’s fire. And so, Rakhana’s body continued dancing around her mother and her mother swayed gen...”

He sees a large group of people gathered a few feet away from where he is sitting. It takes him a moment to put together the pieces of the situation, of what it is being broadcasted through every terminal, of why Doctor Michel is shaking while she buries her face in her hands.

A myth of creation is replaced by news of destruction.

* * *

Thane always enjoyed looking at her fish. Once more, he sees them travel with glee from one side of the tank to the other. He used to feed them whenever she forgot, which was more often than she would care to admit. Half a lifetime ago.

He presses one of his fingertips against the fish tank’s glass and draws small invisible circles. A Thessian Sunfish follows his finger, even when he begins to trace unpredictable shapes. Shepard can’t see his face but she likes to think he’s grinning, greeting his old friends.

From all the stories and words that spun inside her head, tah-sehe is the only one she has felt pounding violently inside her. She wonders, even if she doesn’t know its true meaning, if perhaps there’s a word that encases an opposite feeling, the sensation of her chest being cluttered with emotions; and the impulse she is struggling to oppress, of talking about everything at once, the things she has seen and done and felt. And on the same time, she doesn’t want to talk at all, she wants to reach out and touch and caress and experience.

So, she asks.

“Is there a word in Rakhani for…this? Say…what you feel when you are reunited with someone? Like you with the fish right now.”

Thane turns around slowly; his hands are behind his back. The hint of a smile turns the corners of his mouth.

“I believe the closest word is sehifa. Even though I wouldn’t use it to describe my reunion with the fish. Is there a similar word in human language?”

“I don’t know if there’s a word for it in one of the human languages, but there isn’t one in English. At least the translator didn’t find an equivalent.”

“Ah. I see. Sehifa is a hard concept to condense into a single word. Perhaps it can be defined as the dusk of missing someone. Although it means more than that. It also refers to what you feel and what you do when you are reunited. The emotional closeness that is rekindled. Perhaps even physical intimacy. The warmth you feel in your chest. And what is exchanged. A memento or a present perhaps. Even the stories that your loved one wished to tell you for a long time, when they are finally said out loud and heard by the person who was meant to hear them. How each action or touch is meaningful.”

The dusk of missing someone. That’s it. That’s what it is.

Her cheeks feel warm and her heart full. She smiles the brightest of smiles and starts to laugh. It is a deep, explosive burst of laughter. The sort that seems to pour out like liquid gold to illuminate an entire room.

When Shepard runs out of laughter, she holds his gaze:

“I have something for you. A memento or a present or something of sorts.” She disappears for a couple of seconds and emerges from the bathroom holding something round made of crystal, around the same size as a fishbowl. “Remember what you told me? About creating? It’s funny. All this time I believed all I could ever make were bad songs. But in truth, there were worlds I could create. I can’t really share them with you, not with words at least, so I made a thing. It’s not really finished and it’s not as pretty as what it looked in my dreams but reality rarely pairs up with your expectations, right? I wanted to work on it for a while longer but, after what you just said, I just can’t wait anymore. Here.”

She shakes her head and hands it to him.

Thane holds it up.

It’s a terrarium.

She had created a harmonic ecosystem, filled with lively-colored succulents and cacti, each of them she handpicked herself to resemble the desert of Alasere. She knows that Rakhana will remain arid and dormant; and the worlds that live inside of her aren’t supposed to be more than just dreams. Yet, somehow, Thane is holding a slice of one of them between his hands. One of the things he wished he could see with his own eyes has come to him. In a way, a dream they dreamt of together became real.

He puts the terrarium down with care, next to her terminal, and he reaches over and cups her cheeks with both hands. He calls her by her first name, as he rarely does. He leans down and presses his forehead against hers. He smiles a very rare smile. He is somehow doing it with his entire face. His eyes are deep pools of bliss and warmth and tenderness.

“A desert” he says. She can even hear the smile in his voice.

She nods calmly. He knows Shepard is good at locking her nostalgia away behind more curtains than just her eyelids, but right then, her voice breaks.

“I really wanted you to see that desert, Thane.”

He utters a word in Rakhani used to convey a specific form of gratitude. And while taverena escapes from his lips, Shepard hears him say:

“Thank you for giving me the extraordinary.”

#thane krios #shrios #thane x shepard #kolyat krios #irikah krios #mass effect #i wrote this 4728473 years ago and i’d change some things now after playing mele but i’m going to leave it as it is #also while i had a lot of shrios feelings when i wrote this #i just wanted to make up a few words!#long post #galifreyas writes

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mystic-poet · 3 years

Text

ROGUE PATHS

I wake up to find myself handcuffed to the hospital bed. The drug they injected me with to tame me seems to be wearing off. Ugh! This again. Better to get it over with, I guess. I drag my free hand into my bun and retrieve a small blade. As usual the dumb police never bothered to check in there thinking a man’s bun would just be a fashion statement. I twist to my side and turn the blade in the keyhole clockwise. My hand comes free. I learnt to pick locks when I was young, one of my many talents. I shake my hand hard to get rid of the stiffness and get up from the bed.

I stride confidently straight towards the door, not in the sneaky kind like a criminal would. As expected, a police officer stands at guard. His lips are on the verge of screaming when I silence him by waving a hundred bucks in front of his eyes. He raises his eyebrows at me and I throw in another four hundred to satisfy his thirst. That ought to shut him up. Money! The most deadly weapon and beautiful thing anyone can ever have.

□□□

Outside the hospital waits Beth. She teaches German in Crawford High. Well, it would be safe to say she taught me the art of viciousness. If angels can house demons, there isn’t any harm in a teacher being an evil mastermind.

“They shot you pretty bad in that leg, huh?” she says as I limp on one good leg. She gives me a look that was overflowing with pity. How I hate that!

“Enough with the puppy eyes already!” I snap. My right leg was hurting real bad and I would have stayed in the hospital until they mended it and made my grand escape later but I won’t want to deprive the world of its foul folks. Besides, I have business to finish.

“I must say, I didn’t expect you to be in the hospital,” Beth says unlocking her car and we sit in.

“They shot my leg in the encounter at the bank and I was losing blood by the second. Couldn’t get much out of me while I was thrashing in pain,” I explain.

“Did you find anything at the bank?” Beth asks raising an eyebrow at me as she drives the car out of the parking lot.

“I was close to. The property papers were in my hands before the cops caught up with me. Couldn’t read a word.”

“So, what are going to do? Got anything up your sleeves?”

“Well, I do. I am going to father’s house this Wednesday,” I say coolly.

“You do know that’s two days away, don’t you?”

“I have thought it through. You’ll see,” I say grinning.

Beth shakes her head. “Just remember I need my share of the money, Carl.”

“We talked about this a million times, Beth. You’ll get your forty percent,” I say casually leaning into the passenger’s seat.

□□□

My dad abandoned me when I was a teen. He is the owner of a multinational electronic company my late grandpa founded. Beth was the assistant manager. She was a frequent visitor in thehouse and shared a fine bond with dad until one day, she was fired when my dad accused her of a theft she never committed or so she told me.

When I was old enough, I tracked her down and discovered that she craved revenge with dad for all the wrongs done to her. She wanted to blow the lid off and reveal all the dark secrets behind dad’s firm. In a way, our common want of vengeance united us.

My dad is stinking rich whereas I was left in some community home and survived off donations. This is why I despise pity; I have lived with it all my life. I have my rightful place in the company and the fortune my grandpa left behind. But I need theofficial documents and my one chance of getting them from the bank slipped away. That’s where the part of infiltrating his house comes in. Ah! It’s been such long while since I did something of this kind. Infiltrating seems such a gorgeous word now.

□□□

“So, how are we doing it?” asks Beth pouring two glasses of red wine for the both of us. She drove us to her house for it’s probably the safest place to be.

“He is hosting some success party on Wednesday and there’s bound to be security. My idea is to go through as delivery persons. The rest will follow. You will tip toe to the computer room while I put up some distraction. I will catch up with you soon enough. Till then, find the papers,” I instruct taking a swig from my glass.

“It won’t be that simple, you know,” she says with a smirk.

“I was thinking you need that forty percent,” I say with mock seriousness.

“Fine!” she says exasperated. How I love when I am obeyed.

□□□

We are wheeling the cart that supposedly holds the cake but instead I just stuffed it with a wad of cotton. I ring the bell of the grand house with Beth beside me. The housekeeper, a woman in maybe in her thirties, opens the door. She gestures to where the cake should be kept. I look around at the magnificence of the place and its each and every adornment and decoration, from the mahogany coffee table to the velvet curtains and even the intricate designs on the glass vases, conveyed royalty. I feel a rush of hatred inside me. My father enjoyed all the money at his disposal and lived in comfort with rugs beneath his feet whereas I tossed and turned with unease in my bed every night wondering if my parents would ever make their way back to me. At least my mother passed away before she witnessed the return of her abandoned son.

“You know what to do,” I whisper in Beth’s ear. She nodded. I take my blade out and make a shallow cut in the back of my hand oozing out blood. That blade is indeed a good partner. I pocket it as swiftly as I took it out.

“Oh, I am bleeding. I am bleeding,” I say dramatically and hold my hand out purposefully for everyone to see the scarlet covering it.

“Oh dear, God. I will fetch you some ice from the kitchens,” the housekeeper says and disappears into a corridor. That’s the thing about kind people; they are easy prey.

I signal to Beth and she sets off in a half-walk and half-run up the stairs. She knows the way to the computer room from all those years of coming to dinners and teas in the house. As she turns into the corner, I rush behind her too wiping the blood on my pants.

I catch up with her soon enough as she looks straight ahead navigating through the rich corridor filled with a few guests. I walk behind her maintaining a safe distance; we can’t afford to attract any attention.

We walk into a long deserted hallway. I am sure the computer room is here and so does Beth, I suppose, as she carefully notices each door. She comes to an abrupt stop in front of the door at the far end of the hallway and opens it without a glance at me. In the middle of the room sits a computer that would be the cause of my dad’s doom. Beth turns it on and gets to work as I stand at the door occasionally peaking in. I was afraid it might have a password but it didn’t. Arrogance! Father must be sure no one could evade his computer. Well, I guess history is being made today.

“Do it quick!” I hiss at her.

“Does it look like I am not trying?” she says making an irritated face at me.

We are silent for five minutes or so when Beth says, “Carl, I found them!”

A smirk creeps across my face. “Transfer it to me. All of it,” I say in an excited whisper.

Beth turns back to the computer and presses send. The next few moments go by as quickly as the blink of an eye. I lock Beth in the computer room and somewhere a safety alarm triggers deafening my ears. I hear her muffled screams calling out to meechoing in the hallway but without looking back I descend the two flights of stairs.

I bump into the security on a landing and adopting my best worried voice I say, “A woman in the computer room. Upstairs.” The words barely escape my mouth and they run upstairs to find the trespasser while I walk out of the mansion with satisfaction.

Indeed, Beth taught me too much than she should have. Call me selfish but that’s what the world made me. I couldn’t have let Beth have forty per cent. After all, what would she do with it in jail? As for my father this episode would definitely motivate him to set a computer password. I whistle walking on the road thinking of the colour my bungalow would be.

Tagging:

@ruins-of-heart @witchpossessinghozier @some-broken-words @sinless-mind @luck1998 @ze-thoughts-are-stupid @random-lit @saamiya @colinisalright @thunder19sstuff @yalocal-deadpoet @asthetically-bookish @literature-is-my-religion @mrun-v @songfromstars @donapreachesart @i-snort-chocolates @duskobserver @apprielle24 @halfagonyhalfhop3 @klainebrittana @ray-of-darkness7 @balladofableedingpoet2112 @morticiapretz @vantaerayleigh1997 @sillylilbakaaa @church-of-burnt-romances @burn-like-starss @mjsespaces-blog @theleechwhodrinksbleach

Thank you so much for giving this a read dears!

Comments, criticism and suggestions are always welcome <3!!!

#story writing #spilled writing #writers and writing #poets and writers #writers on tumblr #writers and readers #writers community #writers and poets #story

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artistconk · 3 years

Text

The one who stayed AU

-Wilbur and Techno are twins, with Techno being 2 minutes older. Wilbur is Phil’s favourite. Wilbur and Phil often leave for long periods of time, leaving Techno to raise Tommy.

-This leaves Tommy with very anarchist views. He’s also able to work for himself instead of stealing, and good with swords. He’s also terrible at being alone.

-One day, Philza and Wilbur leave to create a nation, they call it L’manberg. In this nation, is Wilbur, Philza, Tubbo, Niki, Jack Manifold, Eret, and a boy that Wilbur adopted named Fundy. The country is a Communist Dictatorship, Wilbur being the President, and Philza being the Vice-President. [This idea is credited to @beeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaans ]

-They fight for the independence of this nation, and get taken to a small room, where Eret says she has things to help. At this time, everyone other than Phil has 3 lives. Phil is at one.

-Eret betrays them, all losing a cannon life, other than Phil, who is ushered out by Wilbur so he can live.

-Upon seeing this Massacre, Phil grows tired. He duels Dream one on one for independence. They use bows, the first to kill the other wins. Phil wins this duel, taking Dream down to two cannon lives. L’manberg gains independence.

-They live happily for a while, but after a few years, Wilbur confides in Phil saying he feels that no one listens to him anymore. Phil suggests that it’s because he was not democratically elected, and suggests they hold an election. Wilbur agrees with this idea, and they start a party called POG2020. This stands for the Politicians of Gaming.

-Upon hearing that Phil and Wilbur plan on rigging the election by being the only running party, Quackity runs for president, with his running mate, Georgenotfound. They create a party called SWAG2020. George figures Philza and Wilbur will win, as they’re beloved by the nation, and sleeps through any and all important events. This includes when Endorsements occur, and both Schlatt2020 and Coconut2020 become parties.

-Quackity, desperate for power, and seeing that Phil and Wilbur are most likely to win, forms a coalition party with Schlatt2020. This Coalition government wins the election by 1%. Phil and Wilbur are exiled from L’manberg. They form a commune called Pogtopia. Worried about Schlatt and Quackity’s government, they call Techno and Tommy for help.

-While being exhiled, Wilbur loses a second cannon life. He and Phil both only have two.

-While Techno and Tommy aren’t the biggest fans of the two, they give them a chance. I mean, they want to destroy the government, right? What could possibly go wrong?

-They grind, Techno and Tommy provide the revolt with supplies.

-This is where Tommy meets Tubbo! Tubbo is an undercover spy for Pogtopia. After Wilbur and Phil were exhiled, Schlatt welcomed Tubbo into his cabinet, hoping to influence his young mind into being like him.

-When Tubbo and Tommy meet, it’s great! I mean, a friend their age? Fuck yeah! Technoblade is the only one who notices their friendship. Wilbur is busy going insane and Philza really couldn’t care less about Tommy. [Talk abt a shit parent amirite] [Idea from @strawberrylemonz ]

-Tubbo, instead of picking up Schlatt’s ideologies, picks up Tommy’s! He feels bad about having to help reinstate the previous government, however. Tommy and Tubbo are really close!

-Tommy teaches Tubbo about his spy towers! They’re well built, hidden towers, that are hard to recognise unless you know exactly where you’re looking, So far, only Technoblade can recognise them, however Tubbo slowly begins to recognise them too.

-Wilbur is slowly losing his sanity, threatening to blow up lmanburg as more and more people join pogtopia. It gets to the point where the only people on Schlatt’s side are everyone on his side in cannon.

-The day comes, and Techno and Tommy bring the group to a vault. There is enougn supplies for everyone to be fully stacked.

-They go to war, Schlatt fuckin dies of a heart attack, you know how it goes.

-Phil goes to make a speech of how he’s proud of everyone, but especially Wilbur. He doesn’t even mention Tommy and Techno. This makes them slightly angry, but it’s nothing they aren’t used to by now.

-Wilbur comes up on stage, and he hands the presidency to the son whom he is so proud of, Fundy. Wait, another presidency? What the fuck? Didn’t they just overthrow the president? Are they fucking dumb? They just saw what power does to people.

-Fundy makes Niki his vice, renaming POG2020 to Coconut2020.

-Wilbur leaves, and Fundy gets on stage to make a speech. Tubbo silently mutters apologies to Tommy, and promises he will be on their side no matter what, and that he isn’t happy about the government either.

-Phil notices Wilbur’s departure, and follows him. He finds him in the button room, about to press the button. Phil attempts to convince him not to. Think of all they’ve built together. Wilbur laughs, and asks Phil if he ever notices his other children.

-Techno and Tommy rage. How dare they build a government in front of us? Everything they just fought against? Did they not see how much effort the two had put into helping their revolution. Had their own family just used them as tools? Lackeys to do the dirty work? What the hell? They begin to build a wither. Fundy and Niki attempt to convince them not to.

-Wilbur presses the button, blowing up L’manberg.

-This makes Tommy and Techno overjoyed, once again proving that power corrupts. They release the withers, forcefully take the items they grinded for, and leave. Tommy offers to take Tubbo with him. Tubbo declines, saying he knows they’ll rebuild, and it’s best to have a spy on the inside, just in case. Tommy agrees, and they part ways.

-Wilbur begs Phil to kill him. It’s what everyone wants, right? He just blew up their home. Phil, in tears, obliges, taking his final life.

-Tommy and Techno retire to the antartic, creating the antartic commune. They decide that until necessary, they’ll retire. They build a cabin together, and Tommy builds another spy tower in the hill. Techno builds his wither skull vault, in case of emergencies.

-In rebuilt L’manburg, there are wanted posters of Techno and Tommy. No one seems to have noticed Tommy and Tubbo’s friendship.

-Dream starts to put input into L’manburg. Hey Fundy, why is Phil still here? He killed Wilbur. Exhile him, or I build this wall higher and higher.

-Phil gets exhiled. He realises that Dream had him exhiled because he just never seems to die, and he’s pretty strong, isn’t he? Phil uses this time to debate on him killing Wilbur. He sees that he should have killed him anyways, and that he could not be helped. Phil works on mindless tasks, and Dream visits him daily, secretly blocking other visitors.

-Phil collects supplies to fight back to Dream. Ghostbur joins him, providing some angsty moments ;]

-Quackity, Fundy, Ranboo and Niki form the Butcher Army. They can’t have Tommy and Techno interfering with their country. They just had it blown up.

-The Butcher Army track Dream’s footprints as he travels to give the Antarctic Commune a map to a woodland mansion. They get 2 totems each.

-Tommy and Techno now owe Dream a favour.

-The Butcher Army attack the Antarctic Commune, using Carl and a moth called Clemintine? Huh? How’d he get a moth? As leverage to get them to cooperate. [THE DISCS DO NOT EXIST IN THIS AU.] The two come peacefully. Tommy takes note of how Ranboo seems to not want to help the Butcher army.

-The Butcher Army give Carl and Clemintine to Tubbo, he seems as if he would be good with animals. Dream, who is one of the only people to recognise Tommy and Tubbo’s friendship, asks Tubbo to help him get Techno and Tommy out of L’manburg safely. Tubbo agrees, on the grounds that he is not caught, and his identity remains a secret. Dream agrees to these terms, and when questioned later, Tubbo tells the Butcher Army that Dream threatened him when taking the pets.

-The Butcher army attempt to execute Techno first, as they see him as the stronger one. He uses a totem, and Dream helps the two escape. Quackity gets angry, and the Antarctic Duo fight him, taking a cannon life. They leave for the Antarctic Commune, bitter about the loss of tools and armour, swearing to get it back. They are full of rage about being dragged out of retirement.

-Tubbo talks to Ranboo, and confirms that he did not wish to be in the Butcher Army. They both visit the Antarctic duo, and Techno gives them both back their armour. The Antarctic duo offer to allow Ranboo and Tubbo to stay. Tubbo agrees, joining the Antarctic Commune. Ranboo does not stay, leaving to go back to L’manberg, and apologising for helping the Butcher Army.

-Dream finds Phil’s secret supplies, and destroys it all. He says that as a punishment, he will be visiting less. Phil takes this as his time to escape Logstedshire.

-Phil turns up on the Antarctic Trio’s doorstep, apologising for being a horrible father. He asks for their help and for their forgiveness. The siblings agree to help them.

-Phil helps Tommy and Techno get their things back. Eventually, Ranboo tells them about a festival.

-Dream blames Phil for blowing up the community house. He attempts to defend himself, and explains that Dream was watching him because he knew he held power. He says that L’manburg is his home, and that he built it with his son. He would not leave, even if his son was dead. Techno explains that in re-joining L’manburg, he will be betraying his two living sons. Tommy states that Ghostbur told him that he confronted Phil about his blatant favouritism in his final moments, and that if even Wilbur, in his final moments, while insane, can understand that Phil is a poor parent, then he should know this too.

-Phil is adamant on joining his Grandson in L’manburg. Fundy is happy, Tommy and Techno are NOT. They rage, explaining that if he would not understand that he was abandoning his children for this, then he will not get his home. Queue Techno screaming “I’M A PERSON” at Phil. Dream asks the Antarctic Trio if they would like to destroy L’manberg with him. The trio agree.

-Doomsday comes, and L’manburg is destroyed. Niki an Eret join this destruction. [I’m not involving Fundy in this, as his character motivation is getting people to pay attention to him. Phil is paying attention to him] Fundy feels devastated about the betrayal.

-Ranboo is invited to join the Antartic Commune once again. He accepts.

-Tommy and Techno relax, knowing that L’manburg is not coming back any time soon. They settle back into retirement.

-Fundy creates a town named Snowchester with Phil. They are a commune, and wish to declare independence.

-Tubbo starts making nuclear weapons, to provide the antartic commune with even more power. Ranboo seems worried, and his memory is deteriorating.

-Dream threatens Fundy and Phil, saying that he will hurt everyone they care about if they don’t fight him. They start grinding.

-Dream wins the fight, showing he isn’t even trying. He shows that hes always had the upper hand

-Dream takes all of their supplies. Phil reassures Fundy that they’ll be okay, and that he won’t let any harm come to him.

-Dream shows them the Vault. He explains that Phil brought L’manburg, and that L’manburg brought attachments, whether those be between people or items. He explains how he was going to use

-Phil explains that Dream has made a fatal mistake in trusting a mercenary. Punz comes through the portal, with the server. They take Dream’s belongings and Sam takes him to the prison.

-Wilbur tells Fundy how proud of him that he is, and that Phil is still a horrible father, and emphasises how much he has hurt them. This makes Phil realise his actions, finally. He tells Fundy that his siblings are planning on resurrecting him, using how Wilbur also brought attachments to the server to convince Dream to resurrect him. He tells Fundy to join the Antarctic Commune, and that they will forgive him.

-Ghostbur dissapears, as making Fundy happy and standing up to his father was his unfinished buisness.

#the one who stayed AU #rightrambles #tommyinnit #technoblade #philza minecraft #wilbur soot #sbi #sleepy bois inc #dreamsmp #dsmp #fundy #tubbo #philza #tubbo_#ranboo #ranboolive

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annab-nana · 3 years

Text

colby brock oneshots

Place To Stay (1.4k+)

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Y/n has liked Colby for a long time and the fact that he is very clingy as a friend doesn’t help. One night at a trap house party, they get into an argument and she tells him how she really feels.

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Y/n’s been hanging out with the trap house boys for a little while and has been dating Colby for a month, but when she leaves them, she comes home to her monster of a father. She realizes she can’t keep her father’s actions a secret from her friends and boyfriend much longer.

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Colby convinces y/n to go exploring with him and Sam at an old abandoned hospital, but things take a creepy and unexpected turn.

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Y/n and Colby have been best friends for quite some time now. Both have a small crush on the other but won’t say anything because they don’t want to ruin their friendship. They get into the Christmas spirit before the Christmas party pizza night at Sam’s and of course, Sam has mistletoe hanging around. Guess who gets caught under it.

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Colby drags y/n to a New Year’s Eve party that she did want to go to in the first place because she has never had a New Year’s Eve kiss. When he figures out how embarrassed and bothered by it she is, he decides to do something about it.

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↳ Part 2 of The One That Got Away (4.2k+)

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Y/n compares her appearance to the other trap girls at a party and begins to doubt herself and look down on her looks.

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#colby #colby brock #colby imagine #colby x reader #colby fanfic #colby fanfiction #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction

382 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

95. you just witnessed me kill a guy and I have a really, really good reason for it, please don’t call the cops

Sternclay as a super/vigilante au? sfw or nsfw, please!

Here you go! This is NSFW

Content note: this fic contains mentions of murder, serial killers, knives. Brief description of a porn scene with implied dub-con (you can skip from the part where Barclay sees the TV to the next section break). But I included lots of fluff to balance it out.

This is the best hook-up Barclays had in years. Mr. Tall, dark, and handsome has done nothing but compliment him all night, from the fit of his shirt down to his kissing skills. So now that he’s facedown on the bed in this guys brownstone wearing only his boxers, he’s so excited he can barely think.

“Almost ready” a shcck of blinds dropping, “I just need to grab one more thing. Then the fun can start.”

“Can’t wait.” He sighs, shuts his eyes as his date moves across the room. Then the movement stops.

“Who the fu-”

Horrible, sticky warmth spatters the side of his face. Startled, he opens his eyes in time to watch his date fall to the floor, dead. Behind him is a figure in dark clothes with a tactical mask covering his face and a gun with a silencer in his right hand. A figure who has just noticed Barclay is awake.

In five swift, purposeful steps he’s at the bed, and Barclay doesn’t know what to do, whether to bolt for the window or knock the gun away or beg or, or or-

“Are you alright, sir?” The voice coming from the mask is calm and businesslike.

“.........what do you think?” Is the reply his useless brain comes up with.

“You look like you’re in shock. Which is understandable.” A gloved hand touches his face, “shit, I’m sorry, I was hoping none of it would get on you. Here, hold still.” He rifles through a pocket while Barclay’s mind drifts further from his body. Why isn’t he just killing him now? Is this part of some sick game?

“Turn your face this way just a bit” the back of his hand nudges Barclay’s chin, “good, thank you. I’m going to get you cleaned up, once that’s done I need to ask you to stay here until I’m finished cleaning up the scene. And also to not call the authorities for help when I’m out of the room.”

“Why?” Nope, okay, that’s it, that’s the reply that gets him shot.

“For one, you’re not in any danger from me. You were in danger from the now-deceased Mr. Martin, which is why I killed him.”

“I, uh, h-how can you be sure?”

“Let me show you” he helps Barclay up, guides him to the body, “you don’t need to look at him, just at that.”

He’s pointing to the boning knife clutched in the man’s hand. Barclay’s guts turn to sour milk.

“M-maybe he picked that up when he saw you?”

The killer shakes his head, gently guides Barclay back to the bed and, after a moment of studying the nightstand, pulls out the bottom drawer. It contains two more knives, duck tape, pliers, and seven, severed human thumbs.

“Oh fuck. What the fuck, what the fuck?” He whispers as the man closes the drawer.

“Mr. Martin is the Bear Butcher. I doubt you’ve heard of him, because that’s the name the authorities use among themselves while insisting that there’s no need to warn the public about him. He’s killed seven men, all gay and all on the bigger side; you would have been number eight.”

“I’m gonna be sick” He tips forward, feels gloved hands catch him and easily half-drag him into what turns out to be the bathroom.

“Wait here and do what you need to. I’ll be done in fifteen minutes, less if I can manage it. And, um, you might want to keep your eyes closed.”

Barclay has no problem with that order, though when the killer (his hero?) moves the body into the tub he discovers both the reason for the warning and that he does indeed have more in his stomach to throw up.

After an eternity of iron and bleach in the air and bile on his tongue, he’s helped back into the bedroom. The man hands him his clothes, turning his back as he dresses. He’s changed too, though the mask remains.

“I, I didn’t bring my car.” Barclay says weakly, knowing he won’t have the energy to walk home and the thought of getting in a cab or rideshare sets his nerves screaming.

“I assumed, since he wouldn’t want it being abandoned to lead to someone calling you in missing. If you’re okay with it, I can give you a ride home.”

Barclay nods. The man ushers him out the front door, pausing at the threshold for a final sweep. Then he pulls off his mask. Black hair sticks up until he smooths it back in a practiced motion, and blue eyes regard Barclay gently from a handsome face.

“It’s the Altima, right on the corner.” He says, folding the mask and tucking it into his pocket. Barclay gives his address, sits stiffly in the passenger seat as a pop station plays from the speakers.

“Do you want to change the station?”

“No” Barclay inhales fine, but the exhale comes out shaky, “jesus, how are you so calm?”

“Because if I’m trying to help you stay calm, I need to model the behavior. And, um, this isn’t my first time doing this, in case that wasn’t obvious. I’ve never had a witness before, for all the usual reasons and I’d prefer not to traumatize someone. But he went off his pattern and picked you up tonight, and I was not about to let him claim another victim.”

“Thank you.” Barclay doesn’t know what else to say. His adrenaline brain suggests propositioning the man in gratitude because it’s not everyday a hot mystery man saves your life. But the rest of him is well aware that if anyone touched him right now he might scream.

“It’s my job. Or it’s supposed to be.”

His curiosity peeks out from where it’s been hiding behind his sense of self-preservation, “What’s your name? Or can you not tell me?”

“It’s Joseph.”

“Barclay.”

“I wish we’d met under better circumstances, Barclay. Oh, here we are.” He parks the car, engine still running, “do you want me to wait until you’re inside to go?”

It should feel safe; it’s his apartment, his home above Amnesty’s new location, Mama’s own little house just out in the backyard. But his hand can’t make the fucking door handle go.

“Would, uh, would you mind coming up with me? Just, just for a few minutes?”

The man raises his eyebrows, but nods. Soon he’s standing in Barclays little kitchen, hands folded politely behind his back while Barclay tries and fails to start tea.

“If you want to just point to where things are, I can do that for you. You should eat something too, if your stomach’s settled.”

Barclay declines at first, but when his stomach growls Joseph moves through the kitchen--making distracting small talk all the while--not stopping until he’s assembled a plate of crackers, cheese and apples.

“Ooh, you got the good stuff.” He steals a piece for himself while Barclay nibbles a Triscuit

“Kinda a cheese snob; comes with the job.”

They talk about food and food writing until his plate is clear, at which point Joseph suggests he get ready for bed. Without being asked, he stays by the door as Barclay finishes getting changed and brushing his teeth.

“I, uh, I’m not really sure how to, uh, end this night.”

Joseph cups his cheek, “Lock the doors behind me. You don’t need to worry about anything else; you don’t owe me a thing. You’re safe. That’s what matters.” He smiles at him for the last time and heads out into the early morning light.

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

“Hey big fella, you’ll never guess who put in an order.” Mama clips up the slip from the table she’s working; Amnesty has been busy in the week since they opened here, so much so that she’s had to help with the crowds.

“Who?” Barclay flips the pancakes he’s watching, checks the bacons for tables 15 and 9.

“Your late night visitor.” Mama winks.

He turns, spots Joseph at the far end of the counter. He’s in a black suit, blue tie setting off his eyes, and his hair is fully slicked back. On his chest is a badge identifying him as working at the nearby FBI offices. He’s clearly as surprised to see Barclay as Barclay is to see him. He’s less surprised that Mama saw him leaving; she gets up early and her window faces his back stairs

“Hold on” Mama nudges him, “did he give you trouble? Because you look pretty off.”

“No, no, just, uh, didn’t expect to see him again.”

Joseph orders hash and poached eggs, and when Barclay sends the order out, he hands Dani a slice of cherry pie to go along with it. He peeks over his shoulder; Joseph is looking at the free dessert, smiling. Then he takes a bite and makes a face that’s borderline orgasmic. Barclay looks away before he drops a hot waffle on his foot.

Amnesty's restaurant closes at 3, and as Barclay is locking the front door, he notices Joseph waiting for him in an easily visible, well-lit spot.

“You know, I meant it when I said you didn’t owe me anything. Not even the most delicious pie I’ve ever eaten.”

“I give freebies now and then” Barclay smiles, “no rule that says I can’t give them to someone who did me a huge fucking favor. And, uh” he blushes, “glad you like the pie.”

“The whole meal was incredible. You’re a very talented cook. Would it be okay if I came back?” His expression is hopeful, almost nervous.

Barclay touches his shoulder, “Anytime.”

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

“So, uh, I’ve haven’t had a chance to ask but, uh, when you’re not working or chatting with me here, what do you do? For, like, fun?” Barclay leans across the counter as Joseph licks his form clean of meringue. Barclay’s gone through twelve different pie recipes in the last month just to see which ones the other man likes best.

“I read a lot, cultivate an extensive knowledge of old horror movies, try to make decent risotto in my apartment...oh, I play frisbee golf sometimes, I picked it up in college.”

“Any interest in seeing that new Godzilla movie? It looks terrible but in a fun way.”

“Oh yeah, I like what I’ve seen of the design they’re using for the kaiju.” He notices Barclays hand resting millimeters for his own. He runs his thumb along Barclays knuckles, “are you asking if I’ll go see it with you, big guy?”

“Uh huh.”

“I’d love to.”

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

“Holy fuck babe, when you said you were running out to get breakfast I figured you meant, like, McMuffins.”

“Only the best for you, big guy. Consider it a thank you for making dinner last night.” Joseph finishes laying out the donuts from “Holes in One” next to the plate of bagels and lox from the only place that Joseph insists does them right.

Barclay wraps his arms around him, tickling his cheek with his beard, “you’re fucking amazing babe.”

Joseph kisses him, coffee flavored and light, “So are you. Still want to play chess later?”

“Uh huh. Winner gets to blow the loser?”

“I like those terms, Mr. Cobb.”

It’s been like this for the last three months; evenings at the movies or tangled up in bed, mornings in sleepy hazes on the couch or out the eat, days upon days of Joseph spoiling, servicing, and just generally loving the hell out of him.

There are also the nights or, more often, early mornings, when Joseph returns steeped in grim satisfaction. At first he avoided having Barclay over those nights or going to see him the next day. Lately, they’re together so much that it’s unavoidable that Barclay will see the lethal edge lingering in his gaze or rub knots from his shoulders that he knows were earned in some darkened room where horrors had been playing out for weeks, months, even years. He doesn’t shy away from it; he loves Joseph, and that means seeing him clearly, though sometimes what he sees sends chills across his skin. Chills that feel less and less like fear.

They’re out for a walk around the lake, trading bites of gelato, when a question tunnels it’s way to the front of Barclays mind. He waits until they’re sitting on a bench far from any prying ears to ask it.

“What made you decide to, uh, do what you do?”

His boyfriend studies him, then sighs, “A number of things. Fear was the first one; you said you don’t follow true crime, so I’m guessing you don’t know of the Janesville Strangler?”

“Nope.”

“He killed ten young women over the course of three years. He’s also my biological father. Michael Stern is my stepfather and, at my request, my adoptive one as well; my mom remarried as soon as she was sure my father couldn’t get out. He, he never turned any violence on me, but I suspect he used me as leverage with mom; she was a smart woman, I suspect she noticed something amiss but was frightened into keeping quiet. I was six when they locked him up, eight when she remarried. Mike is a gentle man, he did his best to raise me the same. But I, I never shook the fear that whatever drove my father to kill innocent people lurks somewhere in my genes.”

Barclay’s arm rests protectively across Joseph’s shoulders.

“I joined the FBI because I felt if I was able to turn whatever killer genes I have towards understanding serial murderers, I could use them to help others. Keep people safe. Ambition and skill moved me through the ranks quickly but” he sighs, “the more I rose, the more I saw how little was being done. How cases were mishandled, how if there was the slightest hint it was a cop or veteran doing the killing suddenly the case went cold, how a killer could pick off person after person and no one cared because the victims were the “wrong” kind of people. It came to a head two years ago; I’d poured all this energy into a case where the killer went after sex workers. He was prolific and obviously cruel, I fought tooth and nail for every resource I needed to track him. Officer Alex Brown was my main suspect, I was so close to getting a warrant to search his property and then they closed the case. Insisted the deaths were unrelated. I...I went up and searched on my own and” he looks at the sky, rests his head on Barclays arm, “lord almighty the things I found. I was right, I was right and I couldn’t do anything about it, he’d get to just go on preying on people and I couldn’t handle failing his future victims that way. I waited until he went on a hunting trip. Alone. Lots of things can happen to a man in the woods. And it’s hard to find evidence when his body just happens to fall near a coyote den.”

A little smile, one he tries to suppress, creeps up his cheeks, “I’ve never felt so powerful in my entire life. I decided I’d still try to play by the rules but that if I knew, for certain, someone was guilty and being shielded by either ignorance or malice, I’d solve the problem myself.” He looks at Barclay for the first time since he started his answer, face turning to shame, “I’m sorry, I, I should have given the short answer. I didn’t, I don’t want to upset you, or scare you but it’s hard not to given-”

“Joseph” Barclay carefully runs his fingers over black hair, “it’s not like I forgot how we met. I...I’m not under any misimpressions about what you’re capable of. I just wanted to know how you arrived at the solution you did. It’s, uh, it’s not what I’d choose for myself, not something I could do but, uh, I guess what I’m trying to say is that this isn’t going to push me away from you. And that it means a lot to me that you trust me enough to explain it.”

His boyfriend curls closer, “It means a lot to me, too.”

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

Black gloves on his throat, weight on his chest and when he opens his eyes it’s Joseph above him, steel in his gaze and between his fingers. He’s in a muddled dream version of Bear Butcher’s apartment

“Hi, big guy.” The thin knife slices up Barclay’s pants, “let’s get you out of these.”

“Please, please I-”

“Shhhh” Joseph kisses him, “I removed the man who threatened you. But you’re so handsome laid out like this, a victim just waiting for someone to make you scream.”

“Babe, I-”

“That’s not my name right now. Call me..” the hand no longer has a knife, is running roughly up his cock instead, “call me…”

Barclay wakes up still humping the mattress as he cums. Blindly, he reaches for his phone to check the time. It’s the fifth dream like that in two weeks, and they always leave him so horny he tries to get it up and get off again if there’s time. No such luck today; he has to be up in ten minutes.

He tries not to think about it during work, just like he tries not to think about it the rest of the time. Especially in bed with Joseph, his attentive, indulgent Joseph who puts all his organizational skills and professional practice at giving orders into domming Barclay so sweetly he stays in subspace for hours.

He’s still very much not thinking about Joseph gagging him so his screams don’t wake the neighbors as he climbs the stairs to his boyfriends place. Dani was a sweetheart and took care of his orders for him, so he was able to leave work early.

The T.V is on, volume up loud enough that he can tell what his boyfriend is up to before he even walks into the room. He fully intends to tease him for not being able to wait until Barclay was there to jerk off before hauling him into the bedroom. But when he sees the screen, he freezes.

A man in what looks like a cheesy camp counselor uniform is tied to the bed, his shirt stuffed into his mouth as a make-shift gag. Straddling him is a man in a black jumpsuit, knife near his hand and cock buried in the counselors ass.

“That’s it sweetheart, wiggle and try’n get away; you ain’t gonna and it feels so fuckin good when you try. This is what you get for leaving the window open.”

The counselor shakes his head, fear so palpable Barclay barely notices the fact the boom mic is in the shot. The killer pulls the gag free.

“Please, please, don’t kill meAH, ohgod”

A dark laugh, “I’m not gonna kill you, sugar. Thought about it, but when am I gonna find an ass this good again? Nah, I’m gonna take you back with me, keep you strapped down because you’re the, fuck, cutest goddamn specimen I ever caught.”

On the couch, Joseph tenses, cumming in the sleeve he’s using with a cry at the same moment the killer on screen cums and bends to kiss his co-stars tear-streaked face.

Joseph hits the remote, causing the T.V to go dark and reveal Barclay’s reflection.

“Shit!” Joseph leaps up, making Barclay yelp in surprise, “oh, oh thank the lord it’s just you….oh god how much of that did you see?”

“Some?”

Joseph drops to the couch, head in hands, “shit. I’m, I’m so sorry Barclay, I, I never wanted you to know about this habit, I’m sorry it’s awful.” The voice between his fingers sounds like it might cry.

“I mean, that wasn’t like a snuff film, right?”

“Those aren’t real.”

He can’t help but smile remembering Joseph’s rant on the subject, “what I meant was: those guys are just actors getting paid to do a scene like that, not some actually getting attacked.”

“Of course not.” Joseph looks up, horrified, “I’d never watch something like that. The, the whole reason I like this company is that they do horror porn under very ethical working conditions.”

“Then why are you acting like I caught you pissing in my coffee?”

“Does the fact I get off to this honestly not bother you?”

“I mean, people get off to all sorts of shit. Like, um, like” he twists the bracelet on his wrist, “like their boyfriend tying them up and threatening to make them scream.”

Josephs eyes widen. Then he shakes his head, “No. No we can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I...I never, ever want to hurt you that way. Even in a scene. I can’t stand the thought of you being scared of me, of turning these impulses loose on you. It sounds fun until I picture it and then it makes me ill. No, this stays firmly in my head.”

“Okay.” He keeps his reply soft to hide his disappointment. Joseph is still on the couch, refusing to look his way, and so he circles it and kneels at his feet to better rub his arms. He thinks about the images on screen. About Joseph, blissed out then suddenly shame-faced. Joseph, two nights ago, calculated and loving as he worked Barclay over.

No, maybe the kind of scene he’s been picturing isn’t for them. But he can think of one that is.

“What if, uh, instead of giving into the desires that freak you out we kind of rechannel them. Like, instead of strapping me down to torment me, you’re doing it to show off?”

Blue eyes meet his for the first time all night, “Say more.”

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

“Ready?” Barclay bats his eyelashes at Joseph as his boyfriend finishes double checking the tightness of the rope he’s using to tie Barclays arms above his head.

“Ready.” Joseph stands, rolling his shoulders and closing his eyes as he takes deep breaths. Then he frowns, “can you start us off?”

“Sure thing, babe.” He nestles his head on the pillow, “okay, you found me tied up like this. What’s your first thought?”

Joseph opens his eyes, gaze sharp, “That I’m so lucky someone left a handsome specimen like you where I could find him.”

Barclays cock twitches at being referred to that way, “You’re not gonna let me go?”

“Not just yet. You’re so perfect, will you let me make a case for staying here with me?”

“Please” Barclay whimpers as Joseph straddles him, knife in hand.

“I’m very precise, for starters.” He cuts slowly up Barclays boxers until he can pull the strip of fabric off. Repeats the process, lips a firm line of concentration, with his undershirt, “see? There’s not even a scratch. I have to be careful not to damage my perfect specimen.”

Barclay groans, rolling his hips. Joseph smiles, shifting so his cock rubs against Joseph’s clothed crotch.

“Fuck, Joseph-”

“Shhhh” a gloved thumb brushes his lips, “When you’re like this, my name is Sir.”

“Ohfuck.” Barclay rubs his cheek pleadingly in his palm, “Sir, please, please, untie me so I can touch you.”

“Not yet.” Joseph pats his cheek, scoots backwards on the bed, “besides, you’ll have lots of time to touch me once I take you home and make you my sweet live-in plaything.”

“Holyfuckingshit.” Barclay fights off a dozen tantalizing images of what that could entail to focus on their plan, “Sir? What, uh, what was the guy who tied me up going to do to me?”

His boyfriend settles between his legs, “He was going to take you apart.” He lifts Barclay’s right leg, “starting with these, so if you got free you couldn’t run. This tendon first” he kisses the back of his knee, making Barclay giggle. He pauses, then decides on holding both legs up at once so he can repeat the kiss on the other side. His lips move slowly down to his ankles, right side and then the left, before a final one lands on his arch, “he was going to cut here too. But not me” the kisses continue, “I’m going to rub them every evening so you’re never sore.”

“Fuuuuck” He sighs as Joseph straddles him once more, leaning forward so he can kiss and fondle his arms.

“He was going to slice alllll along here” Joseph’s breathing is picking up the longer he lavishes Barclay with kisses, “then he was going to take your fingers one by one” Joseph kisses each knuckle in turn, his free hand petting Barclay’s face and hair, “then he was going to commit a cardinal sin by mangling these” Joseph toys with his pecks, sucks happily on his left nipple for a moment, “what a crime that would have been.”

“Sir” it’s a whine as Joseph nips and kisses his way down to his navel.

He raises slightly, mouth just above Barclays cock, “and because he had no imagination, he was going to cut this wonderful appendage off. Which is not the treatment it deserves.”

“What treatment does it deserve SirrrrrOHfuck, fuckyes” Barclay pants as Joseph licks stripe after stripe up his cock. As Joseph licks and sucks him to a hard-on, he feels the plug slip from his ass.

“I don’t know what his plans were for that” Joseph sits up, undoing his pants and pulling out his cock, “but I know what mine are.” He pushes Barclays legs wide, works his cock in with slow, steady thrusts while Barclay tries to remember how words work.

“Shit, yes, god your ass is amazing, what kind of person sees it and thinks its for anything but fucking?”

“Nngh” Barclay clings to the ropes as Joseph’s thrusts quicken.

“Lord, I thought you were a perfect specimen before but I was wrong, you look even better taking my cock.”

“Fuck, fuck that’s hot.”

Joseph grip his thighs tight enough to hurt, “well, big guy, will you stay with me?” His eyes glitter, his hair is coming loose and falling across his forehead.

“YesAH, yes, ohfucksirright there” He didn’t notice Joseph changing the angle of thrusts until his cock found his prostate, “I’ll be so good Sir, wanna be a good boy for you.”

“Oh good.” Joseph’s smile goes wolfish for an instant, “because I would have had to do some very mean things to persuade you if you refused.”

Barclay cums at that, staining Joseph’s shirt with white. His hands knock against the headboard as Joseph fucks him hard enough to make him sob with oversensitive pleasure.

“You’re going to be such a nice plaything for Sir, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Good boyOH, ohshit, shit.” Joseph pulls out halfway through cumming, spattering it on Barclays thighs and balls. Carefully, he lowers his legs. Then his boyfriend collapses into his arms, panting and giddy.

“That, that was so fun. I’d say who knew but every time we fuck you show me just how fucking fun all this can be.”

“Aw, babe.” He goes to hug him and rediscovers the ropes.

“Ohshit, here” Joseph sets to work undoing his knots, “are your wrists okay? Not too sore? How about your shoulders?”

“They all feel fucking great, baby. I feel great. How could I not? I got you looking after me.”

Joseph smiles, “and out for you.”

“That too. Now c’mere, special agent, your next assignment is cuddling your boyfriend.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #meet ugy #taz amnesty

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earendilslight · 3 years

Text

Soooo, I've been simping Thresh since 2014 and now I finally can be open about my love for him because of the cinematic, and since I'm about to apply for the C1 Cambridge certification and I'm in desperate need to practice my writing, it's a perfect time to write fanfics with Thresh 💖

It's just a very little text, maybe, if it gets enough love I'll turn it into an actual fanfiction. But in the mean time, enjoy!

Also, if you happen to notice any mistake let me know!

------—------------------------------------------

He came out of the shadows, where the dim light could reveal his features. It was a tall man, with long dark hair, dressed all in black, from the elegantly fixed necktie to the long-leathered trench coat that covered him down to the knees, a common attire used by the upper classes in Noxus. His face was slim, almost as the shape of the tip of a spear, with sharp cheekbones and a mouth that looked incredibly flexible as he smiled pettily at me. But it was not his smile that shocked me, no, it was his eyes. Eyes that shone like green, supernatural flames, like something evil lingered behind his mortal appearance.

The gaze of the monster in my nightmares. It was the same eyes that had terrified me for as long as I could remember, and now they were there, in the form of a devilman who smiled at me with cruel intentions. I suppressed a gasp, with trembling fingers, grasping at my robe while taking a step back.

I was petrified. How was I supposed to know this was the creature I pretended to make a deal with? I wonder If I would've been so bold to come here if I had known.

"Having second thoughts, miss?" he asked. His voice was deep, dark. The whisper of a phantom "You are indeed right to be frightened. Your soul would be in constant agony, roaming forever inside the lantern. Your friend made a choice, a very foolish one, I must say, and now he must pay the price of his own naive decisions. There is no point in wasting your life as a prisoner nor I'd like to carry a soul like yours."

"A soul like mine?" I said, trying to sound confident, but I could barely utter any words without stuttering.

"Do you wish to spend eternity in the lantern?" he asked, ignoring my question.

"No!" I replied almost immediately, without hesitation. The man looked pleased, even though there was barely a change in his expression.

"Then leave this place at once." He turned around,walking back to the inside of the house.

I realized how much of a mistake I'd made almost too late. I had been so scared that I was about to bail my plan and abandon Charles to his fate. I would never see him again, it didn't matter what choice I made. The only difference would be that, if I could convince that man to take me instead of him, Charles could be free and we could actually find a way to release myself and every other soul trapped in there. He, from outside, while I researched closely to the monster. And even so, I was shaking. Until that point, I hadn't considered the whole implications of being at the services of this devil, and the possibility of dying or, in the worst case scenario, spending the entire eternity in agony, was terrifying. But, hadn't Charles made sacrifices for me too? He was the only family I had left. The thought of my little brother suffering forever was unbearable, wasn't I supposed to be the one to protect him?

I couldn't abandon him like this...

"Wait!" I cried, so hard that it echoed across the entire yard and inside the manor. The man stopped at the door, turning slowly, first his head, then his whole body, now barely a silhouette in the dim light, staring at me without moving a muscle. I had my hand extended towards him, like trying to reach for his own, and I realized he was observing my gesture.

"Maybe... I could be of use outside the lantern..." I muttered, not even sure of what I was saying. He chuckled, almost amused with my comment. It was a muffled sound, not even a laugh.

"How come?" He asked with curiosity. Now I had his attention. It might have been a ridiculous thought, but I was starting to believe it could work.

"You're new to Noxus, sire" I said, straightening my back with an almost futile intention to appear confident. "People here talk a lot. In fact, most of them are already wondering who this mysterious visitor is. Where did he come from? What does he want? Noxus it's not a place who treats kindly it’s visitors, especially those who appear out of thin air and might be dangerous"

"Oh, I assure you, miss, I do not fret a bunch of drunken peasants who might try to trespass. Believe me, they are right to consider me a treat".

"I also consider you someone with a plan" I replied rapidly, getting to keep his eyes on me, and now, he seemed kind of... surprised "You don't strike me as a man who just wanders around this city in search for souls to torture. I believe you are here for a reason..."

He turned completely around, with an annoyed expression in his sharp face. As if I were a ridiculous fly trying to explain to a deadly spider how to seam its web.

"Your reasons are unknown to me" I continued "but I do know that once the people of Noxus begin to suspect you, Gods forbid, those who roam in the shadows, you would be the target of much more dangerous creatures than just drunken peasants."

It was true, actually. Unfortunately, Noxus was a city where you could disappear while walking back home just for people to find your dead body around the market the next morning and no one would bat an eye for you. Not to mention the multiple cults that made human sacrifices to the forgotten deities, besides robbers, assassins, rapists, the spirits that still roamed the streets late at night. Not to mention people had seen members of the Black Rose being more active than before. If this man was careless enough, some of them would notice, sooner or later, that there wasn’t something right with him.

"And what does this have anything to do with the liberation of your dearest brother from the lantern? And with you not taking his place inside of it?"

"I can be of good use outside the lantern, like I said"

Oh, dear God, what was I doing?

"If you let him go, I will be at your service, sire. You can keep me alive, not... dead and I can do anything that implies going outside the manor. People would suspect much less if they see actual movement in the mansion. It's not weird for a lord to have people at his services, even if it's just one harmless housekeeper..."

He seemed… intrigued by my proposal. I could tell he was analyzing every word that came out of my mouth, trying to find a deeper meaning or maybe ulterior motives behind my desires. Keen eyes watching my every move and reaction, almost as piercing through the flesh, into the darkest parts of my soul.

"Imagine I agree to your proposition” he speculated “What makes you think I would just let you go outside as you please?" he started walking towards me. There was this dreadful air around him that made my skin crawl. Like my heart was sinking down my throat and my blood froze little by little in my veins, with every step he took down in my direction.

The glowing, flame-like eyes coming closer, slowly, like the inevitable march of time and death, until the man stood there, five meters away from me, and I could smell the scent of his clothing, carried by the wind. Incense and the sea. Not the dry wood and dust of the hills of Noxus, but a fragrance I almost had forgotten, the one I smelled when I was a child, in a ship...

"I'm pretty sure you have ways to keep me bound to this place" I said, without escaping his glaring and hiding under my robe my shaking hands, while he studied me like a specimen he was about to dissect. "I do not doubt you could trap my brother again, and me, if I betray you. Or to even kill me, if it comes that way"

Maybe he was amused by my daring, maybe he was surprised at how much of a imbecile I was. Either way, he didn't utter a sound. The wind started to blow, much more cold than before, a voice that sang between the trees and the grass, moving the branches of the cypresses and the oaks as if they were to start dancing with the breeze, dragging with it heavy, grey-colored clouds announcing the impending storm.

“Do you wish so much to become a prisoner?” the man asked once more. The surrounding darkness of the clouds made his eyes brighter, like wildfire in the middle of the sea, blurred by the mist of the bay. “To never set a food without being watched? To know the true depths of the despair that brings with it the lack of freedom?”

I smiled, softly. Even when his face showed no change, I could tell he was, at least, studious to my reactions. I believe he was expecting me to be frightened by this, or to a certain degree intensely disturbed. For better or worse, life hadn’t treated me kindly. Since I was ten years old I had been at the service of people who considered me little more than trash and a burden, the next master worse than the last. Ironical, isn’t it? Seemed life had prepared me to serve a monster.

“Sire, I have served my whole life as a prisoner. From one Master to another, I’ve been tied to Bilgewaters my entire life” I admitted, looking directly into his cold gaze and when thunder started to strike, his eyes weren’t dulled by their light. “I do not fret to serve one more time, even if it’s forever…”

There was something that changed in his air. I cannot point out what it was, but his semblance was different, as if the winds of the storm had finally made him feel cold, even though I doubt something like him would be able to feel coldness. His previous smile had disappeared, and his mouth was now a grimace, a straight line, which made the jailer look much more severe than he already was.

“What is your name, miss?” the man asked, with a muttered, calm voice, with both hands behind his back.

“Senara Raion, sire” I responded, trembling not only because that man made me feel paralyzed, but because a very thin but chilling rain had started to fall above us.

He stared at me, thoughtful, almost as if he were expecting a reaction on my behalf.

“Miss Senara, tell me…” Suddenly, he extended his hand towards me, with no alteration to his face. “Do we have a deal?”

I looked at his face, the diabolic eyes, his gloved hand. There was no turning back…

“We do, sire.”

Had I known the future consequences of my choice… I would’ve never set foot on that hill...

-------—-----------------------------------------

Hope you liked it!

#Thresh #Thresh x oc #League of legends #League of legends fanfic #I'm a simp for that man #Daddy pls chain me #I should be studying instead of writing this but it gives me lifeeeee

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rhys-rambles · 3 years

Text

FIGHT CLUB | 1999

I was introduced to the movie Fight Club around 3 years ago. It wasn’t until recently I’ve become interested in it. So here’s my Fight Club breakdown :) WARNING FOR SPOILERS!!

For those who don’t know, Fight Club is a cult favorite novel that was later adapted into a film released in 1999, directed by David Fincher. Starring Brad Pitt, Edward Norton, and Helena Bonham Carter.

The story of Fight Club revolves around three main characters. It’s told from a first-person perspective by a nameless character that’s commonly called ‘the narrator’, who has a dead-end white-collar job at a major car company and has fallen prey to what he calls the ‘Ikea-nesting instinct’. Dictated by social norms he walks perfectly in line like a docile sheep, which translates into an inauthentic, repetitive and empty life.

He suffers from a bad case of insomnia, which causes him to be neither fully awake, nor fully asleep. Sometimes, he entertains self-destructive thoughts: as he flies around from state to state for his job, he prays for a crash or mid-air collision every time the plane bankes too sharply on takeoff or landing.

During a flight, he meets an eccentric and hypermasculine character named Tyler Durden.

Tyler seems to be the direct opposite of the narrator. He’s a wolf rather than a sheep, disentangled from society, and impervious to social norms. He takes what he wants, without asking, and whenever he pleases. He’s self-sufficient, has no superiors, and doesn’t care about material possessions.

The movie later reveals that Tyler and the narrator are the same person, as Tyler is a product of the narrator’s imagination, that’s probably induced by severe insomnia combined with dissatisfaction with a dull, meaningless existence and a lifetime of repressed urges.

The narrator is addicted to going to support groups for specific illnesses because these give him the opportunity to cry, which seems to be a remedy for his insomnia. The downside of his behavior is that he isn’t genuine; he has no testicular cancer, or blood parasites, yet acts as if he does, so he can reap the benefits of these sessions.

But these benefits come to an end when another non-genuine visitor starts to join the sessions as well. This is a woman named Marla Singer, and her motive for joining these sessions is, and I quote: “It’s cheaper than a movie and there’s free coffee.”

Marla is a self-destructive, chain-smoking fatalist, who’s expecting to die at any moment, but finds it tragic that it never happens. She steals food and clothes for a living and attempts suicide by overdosing Xanax.

Even though the narrator, Tyler, and Marla are totally different personalities, they all live their lives accompanied by a nihilistic undercurrent.

Tyler seems to have figured out what causes this emptiness, and during the course of the story, his solution unfolds. Unfortunately, his character slides from a sage-like father figure to an anarchist terrorist, who’s out to destroy modern civilization. Nevertheless, he exposes a series of harsh realities about modern life that are worth contemplating.

Anti-consumerism

The anti-consumerist stance of Tyler Durden becomes obvious when he verbalizes his concern about the modern way of life. Shortly after the narrator meets Tyler, he discovers that his apartment went up in flames. After this unfortunate event, realizing that he has no friends to call, he calls Tyler. The two meet, and the narrator complains about losing his furniture, and his respectable and almost complete wardrobe. Tyler responds rather indifferently and slightly sarcastically before he begins to express his views on the matter. Quote:

“We’re consumers. We are by-products of a lifestyle obsession. Murder, crime, poverty, these things don’t concern me. What concerns me are celebrity magazines, television with 500 channels, some guy’s name on my underwear. Rogaine, Viagra, Olestra…”

It becomes clear that Tyler has quite an unconventional view of what’s good and bad. Murder, crime, and poverty are generally considered bad things, while consumer goods like televisions, clothing from a certain brand, products that help to hide aging, enhance bedroom performance, and help us with weight loss, are considered preferable.

Tyler has a contempt for the artificial, as opposed to elements that have been a natural part of the human condition, probably as long we exist. This way of thinking touches upon an ancient Cynic philosopher named Diogenes of Sinope, who believed that modern, civilized life hinders our natural state.

At the end of the movie, it appears that the narrator has destroyed his apartment himself when he was taken over by his alter ego, Tyler Durden. This deed was the first step onto the road of detachment from his property, into a more authentic way of life and to (how Tyler puts it): “reject the basic assumptions of civilization, especially the importance of material possessions.”

The narrator moves in with Tyler, who lives in a dilapidated house with ongoing leaks, power failures, and no Ikea furniture. Slowly but surely, the narrator indeed detaches from his previously destroyed property. “Things you own end up owning you,” Tyler tells him. And this simple piece of wisdom probably hits home, when the narrator realizes that he doesn’t need all these worldly goods, and is actually much happier without them.

Non-conformity

Tyler Durden is a non-conformist, and shows, again, similarities with Diogenes, who not only purposefully lived in poverty, but also rejected social norms. For him, social constructs are nothing more than a superficial layer of culture that represses our true nature.

Diogenes lived in a barrel, Tyler lives in an abandoned building. Diogenes urinated in public, Tyler urinates in the soup of a restaurant.

The narrator, on the other hand, seems to be the embodiment of conformity, as he adapts his lifestyle completely to societal expectations. The problem with this behavior is that we dedicate our existence walking the paths that people other than ourselves have laid out for us. This need to conform, the fear of falling by the wayside, this sickly preoccupation by what others think of us, this necessity to keep up with the Joneses: what an exhausting way of life, just to feel ‘accepted’.

So, what if we stop caring? What if we reject the generally accepted norms, and choose our own values, elect our own leaders, determine our own goals, regardless of the social expectations? This is a fundamental difference between the narrator and Tyler Durden, who puts it like this: “I am free in all the ways that you are not.”

Ironically, later on in the story, Project Mayhem, a terrorist organization led by Tyler that grows out of Fight Club, is a textbook example of conformity, as it’s members wear the same clothes, are absolutely equal, abolish their names, and are referred to as space monkeys that sacrifice their lives for a greater cause. We could say that by rejecting one doctrine in order to be ‘non-conformist’, we often imprison ourselves in another one.

Fighting and masculinity

Fighting and the experience of pain play a significant role in Fight Club. At the beginning of the story, Tyler asks the narrator to hit him as hard as he can. He explains his strange wish by saying: “How can you know yourself if you’ve never been in a fight? I don’t want to die without any scars.”

So, the narrator hits him. Tyler hits him back, and the two engage in a fistfight. Both seem to feel surprisingly pleasant afterward and decide to do it again. Their nightly activities on a parking lot attract the attention of other men, that are also interested in joining these non-hostile fistfights. And thus, Fight Club is born.

It’s widely known that voluntary exposure to certain forms of pain makes us stronger in the face of adversity, which could be a legit reason to partake in these fights. As the narrator states: “After fighting everything else in your life got the volume turned down.”

However, Fight Club is more than just a metaphor for dealing with hardship through exposure: a physical fight, and the violence and aggression that goes with it, resonates with the primal part of our being.

Not only the men in the story are attracted to the violence of fighting; Fight Club as a movie and novel was so impactful on its audience, that real-life Fight Clubs started to emerge.

The story shows an experiment in which the members of Fight Club pick fights with random strangers (and are supposed to lose), which isn’t as easy as it sounds; most people do everything to avoid physical conflict.

But Fight Club makes us wonder if it’s a good thing that we’ve lost touch with these primal tendencies. Should we repress this part of human nature? Or, perhaps, integrate it in healthy and constructive ways?

Self-destruction

When the story progresses, Tyler and the narrator begin to see the world through a different lens. Tyler criticizes the modern self-improvement hype by saying: “Self-improvement is masturbation. Now self-destruction… ”

This statement is slightly confusing, as the increasingly destructive nature of Fight Club, in which faces are permanently mutilated and teeth are knocked out of people’s heads, doesn’t seem to be a sustainable way to live.

But Tyler might be onto something when we look at self-destruction as the destruction of a false self.

‘Self-improvement’ often points to the accumulation of external goods: a better house, a better job, a better body, more money. But why should we endlessly want to improve ourselves? Why can’t we just be happy with how things are, and take life as it comes? Or as Tyler states:

“I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let’s evolve, let the chips fall where they may.”

We create an identity through material wealth, and social status. And as far as Tyler is concerned, this false sense of self must be destroyed, before we are free to do anything we want. Therefore, the ‘space monkeys’ of Project Mayhem live by a mantra which goes like this:

“You are not your job, you’re not how much money you have in the bank. You are not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You are not your fucking khakis. You are all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.” - Tyler Durden, Fight Club

Tyler makes a so-called human sacrifice, namely a man called Raymond who works a dead-end job in a convenience store. Raymond wanted to be a veterinarian, but didn’t make it because it was “too much studying.” Tyler threatens Raymond, saying that if he doesn’t start studying within six weeks, he’ll kill him.

In this scene, Tyler points to another aspect of self-destruction: the act of letting go of fears, negative self-talk, and all distractions, so we can fully focus on our purpose. It’s the destruction of everything within ourselves that holds us back from living life on our own terms.

A near-life experience

Many people go great lengths when it comes to pain avoidance. The problem is that running from pain means running from an inevitable part of life.

The prospect of incurring pain makes us anxious, and often leads to self-indulgent decisions. That is: choosing the less painful path, even if a more painful path guarantees more success and pleasure in the future.

Tyler Durden deals with this by inflicting a chemical wound on the narrator’s hand using lye.

As expected, the narrator does everything to escape the pain: he uses visualization techniques he learned at a seminar, and retreating in his cave to find his ‘power animal’. But Tyler slaps him in the face, forcing him to stay with the pain, saying: “This is the greatest moment of your life, man. And you’re off somewhere missing it.”

For the narrator, Tyler has one central goal: he must reach bottom. After putting him through suffering, and destroying his false identity, there’s yet another aspect that must be crushed: hope. Losing all hope is freedom. And, therefore, he must reject what has rejected him: his father, and God. I quote:

“Consider the possibility that God does not like you. In all probability, he hates you.” - Tyler Durden, Fight Club

Tyler states that we don’t need God. That we shouldn’t care about redemption and damnation. And if we’re God’s unwanted children, so be it. Thereby, we lose all hope, but are also liberated from religious doctrine and fatherly authority.

Now we’re truly free. Now we can create our own meaning, and live how we want to live.

Tyler emphasizes the importance of knowing what we want in life. To achieve this, we must be willing to get out of our comfort zone and jump into the unknown without safety brackets.

The narrator, however, has difficulties letting go of security. He begs Tyler to not mess around when he lets go of the steering wheel in a driving car while hitting the gas. Tyler calls the narrator ‘pathetic’, and yells: “hitting bottom isn’t a weekend retreat. It’s not a goddamn seminar. Stop trying to control everything and just let go!”

After an inevitable car crash, Tyler states that they just had a ‘near-life experience’.

Wrap up

Fight Club is a story about rebellion against the status quo and a plea for the simple life. It criticizes the ways in which we are so hung up on security, and material possessions, and how people let social norms dictate their lives.

‘Stuff’ has become our religion. The idols we worship are Ikea and Starbucks. And the more we immerse ourselves in such an empty and unfulfilling existence, the more we start to resemble the things that we produce: manufactured products rather than authentic human beings.

Tyler shows us a way out. And even though his insights are profound, the execution is questionable. Fight Club, and its terrorist branch Project Mayhem, show us how easy it is to oppose one ideology, in order to fall into another, and how a cult-like echo chamber built on rigid beliefs could become very destructive.

Nevertheless, Tyler challenges us to be self-sufficient and disobedient to the authorities that let us down, to live authentically and in the moment, to confront our fears, to boldly step out of our comfort zones, and let the things that don’t matter truly slide.

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