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cod-z · 27 days

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[NSFW 18+] Pegging Series (Anon Reveal)

Your media consumption isn't my responsibility | TW: NSFW 18+, Title itself explanatory

Pairing(s): John Price x Stoic!Reader

| One-shots | A/N: My anon reveal and brain-rot. For those who knows said story, yes, I am THAT anon from said blog

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Price sits at his desk, pen in hand as he glares at the stack of paperwork in front him, the old man already getting tired of doing this on a daily basis. Though his mind is somewhere far than where it should be, ever since he and Simon had that fight and that… session with Stoic!Reader.

Price was so used to being the giver than the receiver, especially with this sort of thing happening to him, the one person he allowed to even touch him there was Simon and that was only on rare occasions when he needed to be grounded again.

The filthy image of when he was controlled like that replayed in his mind like some sort of parasite, infesting within him, making him clench his pen harder.

Poor Captain was getting hot and bothered, thinking about how Stoic!Reader relished in him without mercy and not even thinking about the consequences that were to follow, if he were to ever give Stoic!Reader some sort of punishment (he didn’t).

Dropping his pen and placing his elbows, on the table next to the mountain of paper in front of him, before burying his face into his hands. The oddity of what had happened was just surreal to him and the fact that Simon had went along with it (fuck, he loved taking control) just made his half-erection twitch in his pants.

Though the sound of Gaz and Soap moaning and pleading in the next room didn’t help at all.

The two Sergeants have been going to Stoic!Reader for release for the couple of weeks since they were back on base, normally the two would go to him or Simon but even Simon had asked Stoic!Reader for help with his sexual release. From what Price could see, Stoic!Reader liked/enjoyed being top, the giver barely being the receiver (hell, they didn’t even care if they didn’t cum).

No wonder Price finds himself in front of Stoic!Reader’s Office door after the session with Garrick and MacTavish, he assumed they were already taken care of and are asleep (like they always do whenever they had these sessions), fucked till they pass out.

Lifting a shaky fist, he knocks. Now, he doesn’t know what had happened but he finds himself over Stoic!Reader’s lap (mainly on the bed) and his mouth gagged.

“Do you want to disobey my orders, Captain?” voice so stoic and commanding even if it was just a question.

Price didn’t answer, a chance to prove that he was supposed to be the sole giver, the one who has control and he wasn’t letting it go without a fight, he’s proving that Stoic!Reader isn’t the alpha of his team’s pleasure. Though the cold, slimy feeling of lube hits his back, not realising his shirt had been taken off.

Price held back a whimper that caught in his throat at the sudden coldness and the sound of his belt being undone swiftly with one hand, before he felt his pants being pushed to his knees, the lube trailing down his side. Stoic!Reader uses two fingers to gather some of it up and gently rubs it against his rim, painfully slow, teasing their poor Captain.

“Ah, ah, only good Captains get rewarded,” growling into the gag, Price tries to move himself backwards, in hopes to catch your fingers to go in him, needing to control the situation. But you pull away, his head slumping against the bed as he fights back to whine in desperation, his hard cock already leaking pre-cum onto Stoic!Reader’s thighs, dampening the fabric :(

Price felt the smoothness of Stoic!Reader’s palm hit his right ass-cheek, making him groan into the gag and his body tense at the sudden impact. The disappointed tongue clicks making him slightly shrink in his place.

“Captain, I thought you were trained to be better than this,” Stoic!Reader stares blankly at him. He couldn’t see the stare but he could feel it, he felt so pathetic and so needy but at this point, he doesn’t know what he wants. His body ached for pleasure but at the same time, he wanted control, being Captain for so long, having that power was something he couldn’t live without. “Are you a good Captain?”

Shit. He used those words towards his team. Why was that question so good, hearing it from somebody else?

He squirms in place trying to get a small amount of friction against his weeping cock on Stoic!Reader’s bedsheets, which earns him another spank but this time on the left cheek, another groan leaving his throat. “Answer the question.”

Stoic!Reader’s other hand tugs at his hair, lifting his head up to hear him clearly (even if the gag was in the way.).

Price’s will to fight for any form of control digress, whimpering a pathetic ‘yes’ into the gag, before yelping at the sudden intrusion of his asshole. Stoic!Reader finally dives their index and middle finger into his ass, slowly but reaching deep inside him, making him moan into his gag, his toes curling at the slightest pleasure he receives. “Good Captain. Now let’s see if you can be good till you cum, at least twice on my fingers, yeah?”

Oh shit—

#cod z #john price #john price smut #captain price x reader #captain john price #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw x reader #cod x you #modern warfare x reader #call of duty fanfiction #cod fanfic #captain price #john price x reader #john price x y/n #john price x you

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saigawrites · 10 months

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My dear gelatin orb pet,

Seelie! Genshin x Platonic! Gn! Reader

Inazuma edition

Tags : crack, fluff, scenarios, headcanons

Warninigs : mentions of stalking, animal attack

Summary : you took home a strange creature that looked nothing like anything in your world. So you somehow try to live and be friends with the peculiar pet of yours.

A strange flying orb is now basking in your presence, observing you attentively. Uneasiness filled your entire being as you were stared down at, so you attempted to break the suffocating atmosphere by talking to the orbit. Minutes pass, and there is no reaction whatsoever, until the little thing flies off somewhere, only to return with a torn off paper sheet and a pencil in their tiny nubs.

Heizou ♥︎

"Hey~! I am Heizou, the great detective of Inazuma! It sure was a dream of mine to one day meet someone as odd as you! I hope we can get along with each other, even with our different physical traits. I was wondering, could I please make a psychological study with you? I want to know if there's any more oddities about you, especially your mind!"

Okay, why is this period blood blob trying to attempt psychological experiments with you now? You just met, and he's already looking through your soul 🧐.

You might suck at geography but you never heard anything about the so called 'Inazuma'. Wait, so he's an alien?

That theory have already explained why he was so interested in your psychology, and honestly, you were kind of scared of him after the realization.

But it was still hard to feel threatened by an dark red floating circle with a little bouncing antenna. Maybe he used that to communicate with his species?

You weren't familiar with the behavior of different creatures from another planets, but you discovered that these one seemed to be extra clingy.

He floats after you everywhere, always watching with the most attentive gaze, looking out for any type of quirks you might have. You became all the more aware of him, secretly staring at him with your peripheral vision so that he couldn't try anything funny🤨.

He would startle you a lot, annoying you and scaring you on purpose. He LOVES your reactions, whether it would be you losing your temper and tossing him around like a basketball, or you screaming at the top of your lungs when you feel something slimy wiggle under your shirt.

You're lucky that he doesn't do that all the time. Surprisingly, the cherry colored orb has his own business to do, which is just as strange as his appearance. He likes to go out, watch and stalk random people on the street. You found out when you caught him red-handed in the act, hiding behind a bush and looking at all the people passing by.

You tried to scold him, tell him that it's dangerous to go around for him like that, but to no avail, he would always nod in confirmation and then do the same thing on the next day.

So you decided to find him a hobby, something that would distract him long enough from harassing strangers on the streets. And that is, television. News channels in particular.

It was completely accidental when you found out about his interest. You were extra bored, and decided to finally watch the TV in like a decade. Soon you found your crimson red companion levitating in the hall, glancing at the TV and back to you a few times before flying to your side and nuzzling in your lap, making himself comfortable in your warm hoodie. Petting his tiny body, you both took in the situations happening all around the world.

Arataki Itto ♡

"HEY THERE!!! IM THE FAMOUS ARATAKI ITTO!! THE LEDER OF THE ARATAKI GANG!!! ITS NICE TO MEET YOU!!! WHATS YOUR NAME? LETS BE FRIENDS!! YOU LOOK SO COOL!!!! DO YOU WANT TO JOIN MY GANG?"

Woah, that's one... energetic light bulb. Bouncing on your office table cheerily while his long vertical horns wobble a bit, he squeaks excitedly as if he just found out he won a lottery. Well, he kinda did though, if you're the one to take care of him.

At least that's what he thinks, as your demonstration of desiring to bathe him from all the dirt and dust he somehow gathered gave him all the right signals.

Even if he splashed and spilled all the water onto you, and wiggled and squeaked under the turned on faucet like an over-energized parrot, still, you would rub his soapy circular body with care, patting him with the softest towel of yours that he was sure you were the fittest blob-parent of all.

Did I mention parrots? He is one. An even more chaotic one. You have to hold him with your most strong grasp from him speeding across your house like a flash, bouncing off walls, ceiling and the floor like a deflated balloon. You always have to scold him like a concerned parent about how his form is not exactly unbreakable, and he still needs to be careful with surroundings.

And that escalated into him finding your bed as the best trampoline he can access. You want to stop him and tell him that he's going to break the carcass if he continues, but you just can't resist the sight of a palm sized jelly ball jumping on your bed gleefully, ridiculously rotating in the air as he lets happy sounds escape his nonexistent vocal cords.

Sometimes you would curse the universe for making your circle companion this cute, because he sure can cause a lot of trouble. Almost getting mauled by the neighbors dog because he wanted to pet it two days ago and almost breaking all of your glass dishes because he wanted to help you make the table yesterday. Oh boy, I'm sure excited for what's in store for the future😀.

Though, it was what you should've expected from a supposed gang leader. He even invited you to be a member of this band of his, remember?

You do agree now with all those shoujo mangas where the gangsta would actually be a softie inside, because your glowing orange ball friend sure is, no matter how destructive he acts.

Yae miko ♥︎

"My, my... such a interesting creature you are! It is sure a blessing for me to be in your presence, another amusing humanoid~. I am the Guuji of the Grand Narukami shrine, Yae Miko. I am also the owner of the Yae publishing house. As a grandee of the kitsune clan, it is a pleasure of mine to be familiar with such a high being like you. I am in your care from now on, my dear~"

WHAT IS THIS LIGHT PINK DOWNTURNED FOX EARS GAS FILLED BALLOON ON🗣🙌💯🔥🔥

On all seriousness though, you tried your hardest to understand atleast half of what she wrote, but so far what you seemed to catch is that she's nowhere near an earth creature. Oh and her name is Yae Miko.

Confusedly glancing at her then at her message, your nerve cells steamed as they tried to figure out what type of emotions you should be feeling in this case. The guuji seemed to be quite entertained by your puzzled face and somewhat judging side eye.

Her actions make you no less confused, as you question why would she harshly tug on your clothes at the most randomest times of the day. Out of nowhere, the pink squishy orb would just sail in the air over to you, and then pinch a spot on your clothed body and pull it with an incomprehensible strength.

Which leads you to chasing her, speeding up after her oddly fast self. With groans and screams you would finally catch up to her and squeeze her annoying ass to smitherins☠.

If you don't react to her antics, she'll keep being even more of an ass and pinch on your skin, hard. So far atleast half of your body now itches and pulsates because of your flying jelly companion.

Other than annoying you, the cherry blossom blob with ears likes to do research. Literally on anything. It ranges from politics, history, culture to bitcoin, nfts and all of the other shady stuff. She doesn't take half of the happening seriously, finding the stupidity of your kind ridiculous.

Oh, and she is going to shove it in your face. Always giggling when you two would watch an educational video on some topic, as if making fun of you. When she would write her opinion on your communication notebook she would always leave a snide remark like "the absurd that your kind ensues never ceases to humour me" or some shit.

She really just makes fun of your whole existence as if she's superior in any way. You do your best to hold yourself and not slap her into the oblivion. Oh, but she knows you would never do that. She knows.

Kokomi ♡

“I, Sangonomiya Kokomi, want to greatly express my gratitude towards your actions, human-like creature with a pure soul. Your kindness will always be remembered and appreciated in my heart. Now, as you read this, I shall, as the grand seigneur of Watatsumi affairs, be taken care of by you, as you are in capability to do so. I am one of the descendants of the Sangonomiya clan, and my full form being taken away from me is a major cause of danger for me. I hope you understand my demands, and I hope you will comply with them.”

A lot of confusing words and hard to spell names didn’t stop you from looking at her with puppy eyes and an ‘aww’ escaping your lips. Even though her tone might sounded a bit bossy near the end, your inner mother instincts still kicked in and your heart swore to protect the light globule that looked at you with anticipation.

Her colour pallet reminded you of aqua monsters, something along the lines of mermaids, sirens, and the similar. And you kinda guessed it, since the way your pink and ocean blue pearl like friend gravitated towards water was as if a magnetic pull was in between them.

The funniest thing is that at the first few days she didn’t even know you had water in your house. Modern furniture confused her senses and for a while she thought your biology didn’t require water.

Until one day you came particularly tired home, and the only thing in your mind was the thought of running a warm calming bath with the aroma of your sweet candles. Not noticing your dwarf merblob levitating right after you and watching you turn on the bath faucet, made you jump in your place when she plopped herself in the filling water.

You were about to groan and ask her to get out, up until your gaze fell on the itty-bitty joyous expression that she demonstrated while floating in the lukewarm liquid. With a snort, a small smile followed along with a defeated look. Letting the spheroid bathe instead of you, you contemplated about her otherworldliness.

It all escalated into a degree where she would spend almost all of her time in your bathroom, swimming in your bathtub hours on end. On your knees, with pleas and begging, you would query her to get out of the pear shaped tank, but to no avail, the deep sea creature would just ignore your whines and continue flowing around in the water.

“Komi please, I haven’t bathed in a decade.”

“Splash. Blub blub blub.”

And there she goes again, making bubbles and blowing them at your face as a response. Even so, you still let the marine pearl have her way, as she’s way too adorable to be mad at.

Kazuha ♥︎

“Come driving rain or winds that churn, I shall return, by blade alone, armed, if barefoot, to my home... I am Kaedehara Kazuha, a wanderer who roams the land. Fate alone has destined us to meet, thus it is a great gift for us to be able to communicate, distinctive individual. May I put a question to your origins, your story, and your name?”

What is he, a poet of some sorts? Such a distinguished gentleman, saying such extravagant things, but looking so ridiculous it could kill a person.

Guessing was probably your only best talent, as this japanese flag jello was immaculately successful at using all of the paper and stationary that he could find in your house to make his pieces of art.

Or the “haikus” as he calls them. Paper scrolls all over any hard surface, fully scribbled over with elegant handwriting. You wonder how the heck can a round strawberry marshmallow with nibs instead of hands write so much and also write prettier than you could ever manage.

Reading through those is one embarrassing of a trip as more than 70% of the writings are about you. The other 30% are about the environment, the furniture, the nature, the textures and sometimes about his homeland as you assumed.

And no you definitely didn’t bawl your eyes out while reading those and no you certainly didn’t feel sorry for the tiny little guy and no you for sure didn’t hug him in the most gentlest way and promise him that you’ll somehow get him back, no, beyond any doubt that didn’t happen.

On another note, this guy was unquestionably the cause of your literature grades significantly improving. Both you and your teacher are raising a brow at how good you instantaneously became at writing essays and other in the sorts. You even caught yourself in the act of speaking flowery, as if your 18th century self out of the blue found themselves in the modern world.

And that’s all thanks to Kazuha, and his litres of poetry inside your house. What’s outside your house though, is his music. Yea, turns out your spherical friend is talented in tunes too.

On one particular morning when you two were in a public garden, choosing an outlying area to have your picnic in, you came across a eerily wholesome phenomenon.

Holding a tree leaf in his itty-bitty arms, he seemed to be performing a tune with the help of the frond. You stared at your pal in awe, mouth wide open as a beautiful melody rang through your ears.

When your homeboy finished his little concert you couldn’t help but clap gleefully and throw wows at his excellent performance. Just how lucky were you to befriend such a talented jelly orb.

ARGGFDDDDGJSFICGGV IM SORRY FOR BEOMG SOOOO SLOW😭😵😰😓 I’m currently in a middle of a whole makeover of my house so it’s kinda unmotivating for me to do literally anything but no worries, your homegirl will always find a way to deliver🔥🔥🔥🔥

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euphorictruths · 8 months

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Slimy Oddity

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 1 month

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[Corrupted Anon]

Reminder, I am one of your moots. >:) *cackles evilly*

The prophecies shall be revealed through the anon!

Also I didn’t see the other fan-mail, whoops! But glad you enjoyed it 🔪 anon.

All of you have awakened the pegging corruption 😈 Speaking of which.

—————————

Price was so used to be the giver than the receiver, especially with this sort of thing happening thing to him, the one person he allowed to even touch him there was Simon and that was only on rare occasions when he needed to be grounded again. The filthy image of when he was controlled like that replayed in his mind like some sort of parasite, infesting within him, making him clench his pen harder.

Poor Captain was getting hot and bothered, thinking about how Stoic!Reader relished into him without mercy and not even thinking about the consequences that were to follow, if he were to ever give Stoic!Reader some sort of punishment (he didn’t).

Though the sound of Gaz and Soap moaning and pleading in the next room didn’t help at all.

Lifting a shaky fist, he knocks. Now, he doesn’t know what had happened but he finds himself over Stoic!Reader’s lap (mainly on the bed) and his mouth gagged.

“Do you want to disobey my orders, Captain?” voice so stoic and commanding even if it was just a question.

Price holds back a whimper that caught in his throat at the sudden coldness and the sound of his belt being undone swiftly with one hand, before he felt his pants being pushed to his knees, the lube trailing down his side. Stoic!Reader using two fingers to gather some of it up and gently rubs it against his rim, painfully slow, teasing the their poor Captain.

Shit. He used those words towards his team. Why did that question so good, hearing it from somebody else?

He squirms in place trying to get a small amount of friction against his weeping cock on Stoic!Reader’s bedsheets, which earned him another spank but this time on the left cheek, another groan leaving his throat. “Answer the question.”

Stoic!Reader’s other hand tugs at his hair, lifting his head up to hear him clearly (even if the gag was in the way.).

Price’s will to fight for any form of control digress, whimpering a pathetic ‘yes’ into the gag, before yelping at the sudden intrusion of his asshole. Stoic!Reader finally diving their index and middle finger into his ass, slow but reaching deep inside him, making him lowly moan into his gag, his toes curling at the slightest pleasure he received. “Good Captain. Now let’s see if you can be good till you cum, at least twice on my fingers, yeah?”

Oh shit—

CORRUPTED I DESPISE YOU

I WILL COME TO YOUR HOUSE AND EAT YOUR DRYWALL 🫵🫵🫵🫵

/S /POS

#asks #just corrupted anon #pegging is a topic i need a tag for now #pegging john price #john fucking price ladies and gentlemen

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just-a-silly-little-whumper · 15 days

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Recollection

Masterpost | Read on Ao3

Elze'ith confronts Lord Denholm about his mental manipulations.

For @whumpril Day 15: Mind Games.

Contains: Intimate whump, captivity/gilded cage, temporary amnesia, mind control, begging, manipulation

~~~

“Milord?”

Elze’ith’s pulse pounded in his ears, but he held firm, knocking lightly at the door to Lord Denholm’s study. As nervous as he was, he couldn’t continue on without addressing the uncertainty and fear lingering in the back of his mind. Best to confront Lord Denholm now, when they were both calm, when Elze’ith could afford to take whatever consequences his boldness might bring.

“Come in.”

The fire in the hearth bathed the room in warm light, but did little to ease the chill in Elze’ith’s bones as he stepped into the study. Lord Denholm was sitting on the large, plush couch, a tome in his lap, a curious expression on his face. “Ah, my light. What brings you here at this hour?”

He gestured at the spot next to him; after hesitating for a moment, Elze’ith sat. It took an effort of will not to wring his hands. He wasn’t used to direct confrontation, but he knew it was unwise to let his apprehension show. “I… was hoping to talk to you, Milord.”

“Of course.” Snapping the tome shut, Lord Denholm offered a beneficent smile that did nothing to assuage Elze’ith’s anxiety. “What is on your mind, my light?”

He took a deep breath. Steadied himself. “I… have been noticing some… oddities.” Even after all of his time thinking and preparing, now that he was trying to bring things forward, he couldn’t quite find the words. “In recent… weeks,” he paused, struck not for the first time that he didn’t know how long he had been in the castle. Shoving the thought aside he pressed on, “I… have felt at odds with my own mind. Threads of thought and reasoning that I lose and cannot reclaim, emotions that are not fully my own…” He averted his gaze, trying to suppress the shudder that wanted to rip through him. “It has been… disconcerting. And it started when I came to stay with you here.”

There was no direct accusation that Lord Denholm was causing any of this. He didn’t dare. But the implication remained; something strange was going on in Elze’ith’s mind, and he knew that Lord Denholm had to have something to do with it, one way or another.

“I see.” Lord Denholm placed his hand on Elze’ith’s thigh, the gesture making him tense ever-so slightly. It didn’t matter than he didn’t want to be touched right now. It never seemed to. “I can see why this would be distressing, my light. I am glad that you came to me about this.”

Something like hope flickered in Elze’ith’s chest. He didn’t dare kindle it. “Of course, Milord. I… do not know who else I would turn to.” As painful it was to admit, it was true. And maybe admitting it would help get him the relief he sought.

“What must it feel like, to not be able to trust your own mind.” Lord Denholm’s voice was calm, as though he were idly musing, even as his aura thickened with animus. The small flicker of hope in Elze’ith’s chest immediately extinguished, replaced by dread. “To know you are forgetting things, to not know where your thoughts and emotions originate…”

Elze’ith swallowed. “Milord?”

The weight of malice in the air thickened. In the back of his mind, Elze’ith felt the lingering presence of Lord Denholm grow stronger as something seemed to slither inside, as though it were rooting around for something. A gasp tore itself from his lungs, his eyes wide with confusion and uncertainty and fear.

“I wonder just how frightening it could be.”

The slimy, slippery thing in his mind sunk into something and twisted. Pain lanced through his skull, making Elze’ith double over. Though the pain faded quickly, it was replaced by a wave of dizziness, a sense of overwhelming wrongness that settled over him and didn’t go away. It took him several long moments to collect himself, and even then the profound sense of unease didn’t fade, nor did the knowledge that he was far less alone in his own mind than even he was accustomed to.

Gasping and trembling, he looked up. He was in Lord Denholm’s study. There was a fire in the hearth. Lord Denholm was next to him, hand on his thigh in a way that made his skin crawl. There was a tome resting innocently on the table in front of them.

He didn’t recognize the book on the table, had no idea if he had read it. He didn’t recall coming into the study; it could have been minutes or hours ago. He didn’t remember anything beyond waking up this morning, and his eyes widened as he realized his entire day was one strange, hazy blur.

What had happened? Why couldn’t he remember?

(The presence in his mind burrowed deeper.)

“Light?” Lord Denholm’s voice snapped him out of his terrified thoughts. Elze’ith turned, eyes locking onto Lord Denholm’s curious expression. “Is everything alright?

No, it wasn’t. But he couldn’t say that, all of his instincts screaming that he wasn’t safe, that something was wrong. There was too much dark delight radiating off of Lord Denholm for him to feel otherwise. “I— I am alright. My apologies, Milord.”

“Oh?” Lord Denholm’s eyes seemed to sharpen. “Are you sure? Tell me what’s going on in your head, my light.”

Elze’ith knew it wasn’t a request even before he felt the pressure on his mind, almost painful alongside the dizziness that still clouded his thoughts. “I do not remember anything from today. I do not remember coming into the study, or anything we were doing prior to this moment.” His voice shook. His entire body shook. But he kept speaking. “I— I am very afraid. I do not know what has happened. I do not know if you took something, Milord, or if I just forgot, and both of those possibilities are terrifying. Especially because it could happen again, and I could lose even more,and I know I could not stop it. And I do not want to admit how frightening it is, and I do not want to lay the blame at your feet, because I am even more afraid of what you might do now.”

A hollow sense of dread gripped his bones the more he spoke, the more he was forced to confess. Sharing his fears, especially with the man at the center of them, was somewhere between mortifying and horrfying. More importantly, though, despite the fact that he had suspected for a while now that Lord Denholm had been tampering with his mind, this was not at all how he wanted to broach the subject. Such matters had to be handled delicately, not like this.But he could not hold back the traitorous words. All he could do was watch as a faint smile tugged at Lord Denholm’s lips.

“I see.” His slow, deliberate words made Elze’ith’s blood run cold. “You are afraid that I will take more, then?”

Elze’ith swallowed. “Yes, Milord.”

“Good.”

The tension in the air shifted, like a grip being released, and all of a sudden Elze’ith’s memories of the day fell back into place. Dizziness was replaced by pain was replaced by relief, but he was barely given a chance to collect his thoughts, to realize what had happened, to grapple with the implications of a day’s worth of memories being smeared and erased on a whim. Because the pain returned, sharper and deeper and more intense than before, as the strange foreign force in his mind surged and expanded and grew, roots branching out and implanting in every corner of his psyche. Letting out a strangled yell, he clutched at his head and folded in on himself, desperate for it to stop.

There were flashes, images, as Lord Denholm’s influence embedded itself within him and did its work. A face, one he knew better than his own, radiant and lovely and looking like home. A love, one he couldn’t bear to leave behind, despite everything that had happened. A person that he would do anything for, even this, because they (he) was worth every ounce of suffering. And Elze’ith screamed as those memories were pried from his grasp, pulled out of his reach, shrouded by a fog too thick to pierce.

It wasn’t like before. Even as the process ended, even as the dizziness and wrongness settled over him, the pain didn’t fade.He still ached. The pain was soul-deep, felt in every heartbeat, in every scrambled thought, in every lonely breath he took. As he sat there, shaking like a leaf, he distantly realized that he was sobbing, tears dripping down his cheeks and onto his lap. He was missing something, someone, someone so fundamental that he couldn’t fathom ever losing them, but here he was, with such a hole in his soul that part of him was surprised he was still alive.

Though he tried to find something to hold onto, some shard of memory to remind him of who had been so important, all he could grasp onto was too insubstantial to make sense of. It all faded fast, like a song heard in a dream, like dew in the morning sun.

(Like he will, one day.)

“Please.” He didn’t wait until Lord Denholm addressed him. This was too painful, too devastating, too miserable. He couldn’t do this. “Please, give them back. I— I can’t—“

Mustering all of his strength, he straightened as much as he could to meet Lord Denholm’s gaze. There was no mercy in those eyes, only cold regard, and satisfaction, and focus. “Oh? Are you sure? What if I told you that this was for your own benefit? This person has caused you so much pain, after all.”

Elze’ith might have remembered something like that, might have remembered something like betrayal and heartbreak. But he didn’t care about that now. Because he knew he had loved them at one point, loved them more than he loved the sun and the stars (other things he missed so, so dearly), and that love was more than worth the heartbreak of losing them.

Besides, the memory, however painful it was, had to be easier than this. Right now he was in utter agony, overwhelmed by a torrent of grief more potent than he had ever felt. He couldn’t imagine it ever getting any better, not without regaining what had been lost. At least if he remembered he would know what he was missing. At least if he remembered then he would have shards of happier times to cling to. This hollow nothingness was too much to bear. He wanted more than echoes and shadows of a past that had been his everything. He wanted—

(He wanted his partner—)

Please. I’m sorry, he called out in his mind, though he knew that this cherished, irreplaceable person would not, could not respond. I don’t want to lose you. I never wanted to lose you. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back. Just please don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me behind. I can’t bear to be without you.

“Please. I do not care how painful it is. I do not care what I have to do. Just— just please, give him back—!”

Desperation colored every word bright and sharp and potent. Lord Denholm studied him for a long moment, and Elze’ith found his fear surging. If Lord Denholm didn’t agree, if Elze’ith couldn’t find the right things to promise to get him to relinquish his memories, then—

But the swirling power and malice around Lord Denholm withdrew. The burrowing, writhing force in his mind went with it, causing Elze’ith to go rigid as everything cascaded back into its rightful place.“Very well. You may have your wish.”

Elze’ith cried for a long, long time after. In pain, in fear, but mostly in sheer relief. He had Altair again. No matter what else happened, he had Altair again.

He would never bring up Lord Denholm’s ability to directly influence his mind again. His point had been made more than clearly enough.

#flicker in the dark #silly writes #whump #whump writing #elze'ith sylrel oc #lord soren denholm oc #altair buchannan oc #captivity #mind control #amnesia #manipulation #begging #whumpril2024 #WhumprilDay15 #Mind Games

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novankenn · 2 months

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I'm a WHAT?!?!? (3)

Pyrrha as she watched Jaune try and steady the massive sword, realized something. Jaune was no where near as tall as he used to be. In fact she was pretty sure he was over a foot shorter that normal. As she pondered that oddity Jaune had gotten his sword in position and before Pyrrha could react he charged.

"AHHHH!!!!" Jaune screamed at the top of his lungs as he charged forward towards the gooey creature.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha yelled in alarm as the beast lashed out with multiple tendrils at Jaune's charging form.

"HIYA!" Jaune shouted as he swung the massive sword.

Everyone was perfectly still, and stared in utter shock as the sword's blade literally shattered, shower Jaune and the area around him with good sized shards of metal.

"Pathetic! You're mine now girly! the creature's gurgling voice filled the air as the tendrils that had shattered Jaune's blade snapped about and latched onto Jaune.

"EEP!" Jaune squealed as the slimy and gooey appendages touched him in places the shouldn't. "STOP THAT!"

"What a disaster." Onee-Chan groaned, as she watched the beast continue to molest it's captives, growing stronger with each passing minute. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

"We have..."

"If it wasn't for that IDIOT, you would have been the Magical Girl... and this would NOT BE HAPPENING!"

"Say what?"

"I was aiming for you." Onee-Chan admitted as she crossed her arms over her chest and adjusted her position in the air to appear to be sitting as if on an invisible chair. "You're the one with the massive magic potential... I have NO idea how my energy even allowed him to transform!"

"Well we have to..."

"AHHHH!!!! LET GO! DON'T TOUCH ME!" Jaune shrieked in utter terror, causing Pyrrha to just react. Reaching out with her semblance she latched onto all the shards of Jaune's destroyed weapon.

"So good!!! So much po.... URK!" The gurgling voice was cut off as Pyrrha launched the assorted jagged and odd sized pieces of metal at the beast... slicing it to ribbons.

"THAT is why I had chosen you!" Onee-Chan shouted as she clapped her hands in excitement.

Pyrrha paid Onee-Chan no attention as she watched Jaune and the other victims slowly stand, and the remains of the creature evaporated away. Seeing Jaune trying to rearrange his disheveled clothing, Pyrrha power-walked forward and grabbed him by the wrist.

"EEP! Pyr?"

"Change him back!" Pyrrha snapped fixing Onee-Chan a rather aggressive look. "Now!"

"I can't." Onee-Chan responded, her face showing her frustration at the situation. "Once my powers are used to make a selection that's it. There is no going back."

"What?" Jaune again shrieked, "You mean I'm stuck like this?"

"Of course not, idiot." Onee-Chan snapped. "You can transform at will. Just think about being yourself and it should..."

In a flash of light, Magical Girl Jaune was replaced... with normal Jaune much to Pyrrha's relief/

"Is it all over?" Jaune asked, his voice slightly wavering.

"No." Onee-Chan replied. "There will be more of those creatures, and you WILL have to step into stop them."

"But... I..."

"You're magic is too weak! You'll need to train," Onee-Chan snapped, before pointing at Pyrrha, "And you'll train him!"

"Me?"

"Her?"

"Yes! You! Train him!"

"How am I..."

"Teach him how to be a proper girl, that should increase his Magical strength when he transforms."

"Say what now?" Pyrrha and Jaune spoke in unison.

"You heard me." Onee-Chan snorted. "I'll be back to check on your progress."

"Wa..." before Jaune could finish Onee-Chan had vanished in a small burst of light, "...it!"

A/N: Okay I think I can step away from this now that I've set up the main idea... thanks for reading, and I will be adding more... at some point.

/== Table of Posts ==/

#rwby #magical girl kakeru (manga)#jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #one shot?#fem!jaune #henshin #ai generated illustrations

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birdbutt · 25 days

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personal tma episode today woohoo I suppose (uh.... cw for rotten/scary ?food? I guess)

I work in mail sorting. In one of The Big mail sorting plants, the kind of building lined with conveyor belts that take things across the building, up and down different floors, just wherever it needs to get to so it can leave in the right direction to the local stations and parcel carriers. A big mechanical nervous system. Filled with packages or letters instead of flesh or blood.

You find a lot of weird things in the mail. You just have to learn to ignore it. It gets weirder even on the overnight shift. Not just drugs or other illegal oddities, but those truly bizarre sights you know you'll have no way of describing later. If you even remember them after a long night.

8pm to 5am is when I'm there. We even sort on Sundays. Have to get the mail to your station by Monday you know? I usually like to listen to podcasts while I work. I mean, I'm just standing in place, waiting for that labyrinth of moving belts and conveyors to drop the next round of mail into my chute so I can start sorting the zip codes. I'll put each package on another conveyor belt, key in a code on a small number console, then watch the package get taken away and dropped into another cart or chute somewhere. There's four other drop chutes just like mine, lined up along the main belt behind me, with another equally bored or just plain tired plant worker waiting for the next round of endless deliveries to sort. All listening to their own music or books or even having a late night phone conversation. Today I was playing The Magnus Archives. It really didn't feel like it would matter what I listened to at the time. I was in the middle of episode 36 - Taken Ill, and as the narrator started describing the sickly horror of the scripted week a package at the top of my chute broke open and a slimy, pale yellow, almost gray fluid starts pouring out... well oozing out. It seemed slow, but happened so fast that I couldn't have done anything to help minimize it even if I wanted to get close enough to do that. It got over everything. The belt, the chute, the other packages, even the floor. It didn't just get my area either. When it broke it was still close enough to the main conveyor belt that it spread to the other four chutes after me too. The smell was so strong I almost couldn't move at first. Almost sweet. Before the strench of almost tangible rot slammed it's way so hard into my brain my legs nearly gave out.

Well the stench obviously traveled all over. Farther than normal I guess. Everyone on our floor level could smell it and was coming over to find out what happened. I mean everyone too which is impressive. This is not a small building, it takes about five minutes for someone fit to speed walk from one end of our floor to the other. So it was kind of a joke everytime we caught another brave soul wandering over from so far to try and figure out just what the hell they were being forced to smell.

We get people trying to mail cooked foods or meals all the time, it always turns rotten before the package even makes it to a sorting plant. Always. It's so stupid, but also so common you hardly notice it after a couple months there. A turkey sandwich in a manilla envelope, ham with mashed potatoes on a ceramic plate, a plastic baggy of homemade pickles. Almost makes me chuckle sometimes. Well, almost chuckle AFTER, the slime and smell of what used to be something consumable gets mopped up. So that full bodied stench of old organic rot isn't foreign to us in the plants by any means. Nobody could say for sure what had rotted though, but we all agreed it was definitely familiar. When we removed the box from the top of the chute we still couldn't figure out what it was. Usually when one of these busts we get to see what ever moldy, decomposed chunk meat or produce someone tried to mail ooze out of the soggy cardboard when picked up. This was somehow just slime. A molded pale yellow that almost seemed gray. There wasn't anything else. It looked like someone had packaged up only the decay while leaving out what originally fed it. If there had ever been anything else it seemed to have already completely liquefied. And it filled the entire box and more. It seemed to be too much for the package that broke. We all tried to joke about how long the package must have been lost in the twisted turns of the never ending veins of sorting machinery to get /that/ rancid, but we couldn't bare to keep our mouth open too long around it. Thinking back I don't remember anyone actually complaining about the SMELL, just how it was stronger than normal, strong enough to taste. All from a square box barely 7 inches long. A box that hadn't even smelled until it spilled open. Or we thought it had spilled, we couldn't see what might have been the tape holding it closed anywhere in the soggy mess.

Because it was just so... wet we almost forgot to check if the mailing info was still intact any any way before we binned it for another crew to inspect and clean. No chance of saving it at this point. The address had melted away into that yellowish sick of spoiled matter, but the postage mark was still dry. Pristine even. A bright unmarked spot of bright dry paper on a sea of decomposing filth where there sat a single fly. That lonely insect drawing my attention to the smallest bit of information that I would have never noticed, or thought to check, without the dance it seemed to do right on top. Pointing me to the punchline of a joke I never wanted to know.

It had been sent locally that same day.

You find a lot of weird things in the mail. You just have to learn to ignore it.

#The Magnus Archives #a true horrible coincidence #gross story sorrrrryyyyy (think ep 36)#didn't mean for this to become such a sTaTEmeNT but like..... hell no I noped outta there the second I saw the fly #there's always flies when food gets mailed but like.... iykyk. I was not hanging around for this coincidence after THAT tma ep #I belong to the eternal slumbering titan that is the ancient building where I am employed.#I am a symbiotic postal parasite that will sadly live to sort the life blood of usps for another day #most I've written in years. I don't even talk this much. who would I even talk to???

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lesbiansanemi · 9 months

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Shinobu character study going great Haha

One of Shinobu’s first memories was a worm coiling around her fingers. Her parents always scolded her when they found her out digging in the dirt and mud, picking at the grubs and worms she found. They scrubbed the dirt from beneath her stubby fingernails, and lamented having such a strange little girl. Kanae had never dug around in the dirt and brought worms in for them. Granted, most of the complaining was said with obvious fondness, as they found Shinobu’s oddities amusing, if not mildly exasperating at times. But they never really seemed to understand why she found slimy, squirming things to be so interesting. Shinobu remembered… She remembered digging in a plot of dirt, the plot of dirt that would become her eventual favorite in the yard. A myriad of dead leaves and foliage collected there, the flat stones were easily turned over. Insects and frogs and lizards were easily found. Shinobu dug her tiny fingers into the dirt, and pulled out a writhing worm. It twisted around her pinkie, and she smiled as she watched it. She remembered thinking the life of a worm must be a very simple one. She did not know why she thought that, considering she could have only been about four or five years old. What responsibilities did a child that age have? Not many. She might as well have been a worm herself.

#i haven't had the mental capacity to write SHIT the past couple of days #i've gotten maybe a couple hundred words into this thing #maybe like 50 so words a day or something #but hey! making progress!#can't believe i started out the lesbian shinobu character study with 'would you love me if i were a worm'#sorry i'm being obnoxious about this one-shot #i just know it's gonna flop on ao3 so i'm having fun with it here lol #kimetsu no yaiba #shinobu kocho #kaz rambles

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dzthenerd490 · 2 months

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File: Nes Godzilla

SCP#: ADG

Code Name: The Kaiju within a video game/ The Unheard Destroyer of Earth: Red/ [data expunged]: King of Nightmares

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: The sole copy of SCP-ADG is kept at the main storage unit of Site-AA. It is placed within a small cardboard box that is placed within a metal box with a lock on it. Any testing may be approved by at least one Level 3 Foundation staff clearance member or higher. Testing must ALWAY be done with a D Class as the test subject. During testing under no circumstances are any Foundation staff to be in the same room or are to make their observation be made aware.

SCP-ADG's metal box has been placed in a safe with explosive traps to ensure if someone with the wrong passcode entered, SCP-ADG will be destroyed. The safe is large enough that two AFA-2's armed with Foundation laser guns can fit inside and will ensure that anyone who enters with the right passcode will be shot on sight if they are not Foundation staff or don't have transportation clearance. Testing is no longer allowed with SCP-ADG as doing so might allow SCP-ADG-Red to breach our reality and cause an XK Class End-of-the-World Scenario.

Description: SCP-ADG is a video game copy of the 1988 game Godzilla: Monster of monsters. Now as everyone knows Godzilla is known by the Foundation as SCP-ABQ so you might be wondering how it's possible for the public to have made a video game about something that should be classified? That's because SCP-ABQ has been spotted quite a few times off the coasts of several major cities all the way back to its discovery back in 1954. Mobile Task Force Gamma-5 "Red Herrings" tried their best to erase its existence and when it was finally formed in 1980, Mobile Task Force Dionysus-1 "Fake News" helped. However, no matter what they did SCP-ABQ still managed to get caught and circulated within the ever-growing internet. To prevent this from getting out of control Toho Co., Ltd. was asked to create a movie franchise out of the anomaly and using sightings of SCP-ABQ as promotional material. Thus, a long and extremely confusing franchise was created that somehow made millions despite only being made for the purpose of hiding an anomaly in plain view.

Of course, what started out as a single movie generated a sequel then more, then spin offs and then getting their own franchises and finally videogames. This inadvertently led to the creation of SCP-ADG and quite possibly its anomalous properties as well. SCP-ADG is a seemingly normal copy of the game with a few minor glitches here and there. However, as the player progresses through the game, they will begin to experience strange occurrences. Such oddities include red glitching with uncomfortable noises, characters changing into obscure and grotesque versions of themselves, the appearances of even more disturbing looking kaiju characters, and the game actively asking the player strange questions every so often.

It seems that the more the player does the more their desire to finish the game increases. This increased drive to finish the game is suspected to unleash the evil entity known as SCP-ADG-RED. SCP-ADG-RED is a grotesque character within the game having 4 insect legs, a slimy bloody body with a short tail, two shriveled up and folded arms, and a face that resembles a human face if it was skinned. SCP-ADG-RED has the anomalous ability to always be aware of the player and what they say, even being able to send messages to them through the screen.

SCP-ADG-RED has the desire to taunt and torment the player by making the game more glitchy as time goes on and seemingly resemble where it originally came from. Research done by the Department of Technology, Alchemy, Science, Magic and Warfare has shown that SCP-ADG has been contaminated with [data expunged] a common partial found within Vibration Crystals when activated. Dr. Goetia believes this means that SCP-ADG-RED was not created by anything in our world but instead came from another reality. It just so happened to get trapped into a game while entering our reality and is currently trying to find a way to get out.

Unfortunately, some of the partials found on SCP-ADG have been identified as Abyssal partials commonly found within the Abyss where the Scarlet King resides. It is believed that because of this, SCP-ADG-RED is quite possibly a servant, or worse a spawn of the Scarlet King. The working theory is that SCP-ADG-RED was a kaiju created in an alternate earth and tried to use its power to enter our world as well. By failing and entering a video game instead, it tries to torment, kill, and even absorb the souls of those who play its game in order to grow in power.

According to the notes left by [data expunged] SCP-ADG-RED is able to trap the souls of those it has killed in the past and use them to gain power. It can even influence those who have only barely played it and make them kill themselves to take their souls even when they aren't anywhere near SCP-ADG. Furthermore, it seemed that the characters of Godzilla, Mothra, Anguirus, and most peculiarly Solomon and Acacius are also victims of SCP-ADG-RED. The working theory is that in this alternate world SCP-ADG-RED managed to kill SCP-ABQ and all of its allies using their souls and the souls of everyone else in that world to transport into our world. Now he uses them as a food source to keep himself alive as he hunts for more souls in our world.

What makes Solomon and Acacius so peculiar is that neither exist in our world nor do they exist in the movie franchise, so it is assumed they existed in the other world where SCP-ADG-RED came from. However, most peculiarly during testing when a D Class who managed to unlock Acacius, the Golden Light; at the same time, SCP-999 happened to be passing the testing chamber. Though he was at a distance of [data expunged] meters he somehow knew what was happening and clung to the wall saying "Brother, brother!" over and over again. Foundation observation staff mapped the Site and determined that SCP-999 was indeed looking at SCP-ADG while Acacius was on screen.

Because of this, researchers believe that SCP-ADG-RED is in fact a spawn of the Scarlet King and Acacius is his brother. More specifically, a spawn of A'HABBAT the one who rebels against the Scarlet King. Unfortunately, like most of her children, Acacius failed to save his world and had his soul devoured by SCP-ADG-RED as a result. Surprisingly it's only by unlocking Acacius within the game can one defeat SCP-ADG-RED and break from his control. It's for that reason that some staff refer to his character as SCP-ADG-GOLD though it's not official which is why it has not been written on this file. If SCP-ADG-RED truly is a spawn of the Scarlet King, it's impossible to tell which of the brides is his mother. However, Dr. [data expunged] believes that it might be one of those rare occurrences where the Scarlet King [data expunged] with three [data expunged] if this is true, all the more reason to never let SCP-ADG-RED enter our reality.

SCP-ADG was discovered in 2011 when [data expunged] sold the copy on Ebay for others to buy and play it. What drew Foundation attention to the copy was a bidding war that occurred between Groups of Interest: TotleighSoft and Arcadia. Ultimately Arcadia won but the package was intercepted by Mobile Task Force Alpha-4 "Pony Express" and sent to the Foundation right away. After several tests, some of which ended with SCP-ADG-RED unfortunately killing them and eating their souls, it was concluded that nothing else could be learned from SCP-ADG and that it must be contained forever from there on to prevent it from growing in power. It is unknown how many souls SCP-ADG-RED needs in order to break out of the game but if it ever reaches such an amount there's no telling if the Foundation has now or ever will have the capabilities to stop SCP-ADG-RED.

Side note: The one who sold SCP-ADG on ebay was found to be trying to tell his story online. He was found all his evidence of his personal encounter were deleted and he was given Class G Amnestics.

Update 2016 - Group of Interest: Several anomalous bounty hunters hired by Arcadia have tried to attack Site-AA in hopes of obtaining SCP-ADG. Security defenses and personnel have been increased at Site-AA as a result.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

#DZtheNerd #SCP: Horror Movie Files #SCP Foundation #SCP Fanfiction #SCP AU #SCP #creepypasta #Godzilla #nes godzilla creepypasta #Nes Godzilla #Site-AA #SCP-ADG #Safe #XK Class Hazard #Children of the Scarlet King

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spectralhunter · 11 months

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𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 / 𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒.

Did they believe in Santa?: Yes is what we want to see, isn't it? And yes it should have been, if Santa had ever been planted as a good seed in his heart. As someone who was raised in a low class family, Takumi's parents focused solely on bills, food, clothing and basic commodities. Since childhood, they clarified that Santa was not real, nor natal festivities were significantly important. They capitalized in such joint action in order to avoid yearly expenditures. So no, Takumi never grew up believing in Santa being actually real.

Were they a dinosaur or rock kid?: A rodent kid actually. Toys were a rare commodity he acquired, so he often resorted on crafting very basic toys for himself. One of the most significant, which resides in his special stash to present time, is a mouse. Takumi crafted one from pebbles, sticks, black filter pen and a string. It was his best friend throughout childhood, carrying on past teenage time 'till Hunter entered his life. Hunter's presence filled up the rodent slot, meaning Takumi did not have to carry his makeshift mouse.

Bugs or slimy critters?: Bugs, pill bugs specifically. He took an affinity to them when living with his parents, often due to the shapes on their back. Some appeared as special designs, some were like faded numbers. More often than not, Takumi spoke to them, and in such acts he found a strange satisfaction as if he wasn't actually alone. Bringing any bugs home was out of the question, unless he wished to be heavily disciplined by his father.

Do they fidget? How?: Takumi does frequently fidget, this is induced via high levels of anxiety or hyper focus. His right leg constantly fidgets, causing his foot to tap the floor. These event windows happen in quick successions, although controlling these episodes is something he persistently works on.

What were they frequently in trouble for as a child?: Academically and local communities for mischief. Exacerbated levels of neglect had caused Takumi to seek validation and attention by causing trouble. These acts were usually harmless, nothing short but annoyances. While it worked at the beginning, people began to pay less and less attention to him. His acts of trouble never went past that due to a few fears.

What underwear do they like?: Boxers only. He keeps a good dozen pairs in his drawer, colour variant. Anything with cute patterns or anything more delicate which might implicate his image with the outside public, he only wears during off time.

Designs on clothing or no?: No, not at all. Most of his clothing is plain by having only colour to them. He keeps a lot of this clothing oriented around his work in order to conserve spending.

Birthmarks?: Nothing.

Do they have good self control?: He has moderate self-control. As a charismatic individual, Takumi is capable of displaying credible levels of discipline, although, put under large stress? He will revert back to his primal instincts of self-preservation; yes, he will leave someone for dead in order to live on. Expect him to have great self-control when operating under normal circumstances.

Do they re-enact scenarios in the shower?: A resounding yes. Takumi will often re-enact speeches for plausible future scenarios. This is part of consolidating his charismatic prowess, so while showering, he will look on a mirror and act as practice. It is an oddity, although it works flawlessly for him.

Do they tell the waiter that their order is wrong?: I am ashamed to even speak about this. If an order is wrong, Takumi will whistle or clap in order to get the waiter's attentions. He will then blatantly point at where the order went wrong, and ask that he either gets a new one, or he will file a complaint. Sometimes this works to an extent that he receives free stuff as compensation.

Stairs or elevator?: Hell no to stairs, elevator all the way. The only time he doesn't take an elevator is if he is being chased by a ghost, or someone who wants to harm him. He's seen plenty of movies and knows how badly being stuck in an elevator can get.

Are they an exaggerator when telling stories?: Very much so. Stories recorded by Takumi will never come out accurate; he adds, subtracts and blatantly exaggerates in order to make himself appear bigger, better or smarter. For most part, he became convincing enough that people usually believe him, further fuelling his already oversized ego.

TAGGED BY: @s-talking thank you dear, a million kisses ~ TAGGING : @fallesto , @sheyearns , @dhahabibi , @respawningdetective , @fanaticist , @tragedicn , @lured-into-wonderland , @spookyooky , @vortship , @the27percent , @inseparableduo , @ensxrcelled , @royaletiquette , @awesomeuchuu , @chronicparagon , @cosmicdreamt

#✦ 彡︱ 𝙸 𝙶𝙾𝚃 𝙰 𝙽𝙴𝚆 𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙰 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚆 | 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 #this was a ton of fun answering!#thanks for tagging me in #I really need to keep writing these types up #They bring out so much good stuff about the character

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koopzilla · 11 months

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LITTLE MUSE FACTS.

Instructions: Fill out the questions about your muse, repost, tag as many people as you want.

1) What does your muse smell like?:

Sulfur, sweat, barbeque. The scent of burnt food often clings to his fingertips. Offensive- Like the guy at the gym who has been working out an hour too long and is ruining all the equipment.

2) How often does your muse bathe/shower?:

If Peach is in the castle, he will shower daily. Left to his own decision, bathing is on an as-needed regiment. Going through the trouble is too cumbersome to be worth it unless he catches a bad whiff of himself.

3) Does your muse have any tattoos or piercings?:

Kamek did not allow any of that.

4) Any body movement quirks?(EX: tapping heel, shaking knee)”

Most of his movement quirks are tied to angry outbursts. Some go tos are crossing his arms, clenching his fists, and flashing his fangs. Getting a neck snap out of him means he is about to go wild.

5) What do they sleep in?:

For the best sleep: birthday suit. Usually, they keep everything on.

6) What’s their favorite piece of clothing?:

Shell: it's clothing AND a weapon!

7) What do they do when they wake up?:

Stay in bed. Groan into the pillow. Minions are entirely responsible for producing a morning routine for him. That includes having breakfast ready, bringing him a scalding rag to wipe the drool off his face, and massaging out any muscle he states feels cramped.

8) How do they sleep? Position?:

He prefers sleeping upright to balance out his shell and breathe better (he snores heavy). His throne is the comfiest spot in the kingdom for him and he'll happily sleep there.

In bed, he usually keeps his shell on, limiting him to sleeping on his stomach or at an awkward side-position. If he goes through with taking his shell off, he'll sleep on his back and the whole kingdom will know it because his snoring will rattle the entire castle.

9) What do their hands feel like?:

ROUGH. His hands are tough and scaly-- even more than the standard lizard's. They are often slimy with sweat or grease. Sharp claws make even gentle prods from him threatening. Much like the rest of his body, they are always warm. No blemishes or oddities: his scales protect him from the consequences of weightlifting.

Tagged by: @simiansmoke

Tagging: @pichipie, @ladyofdelfino, @ghostbustingreen, @oraclememehacker, @you

#🔥 mischief & memes

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variousqueerthings · 1 year

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so based on the movie I just watched + multiple other alan alda movies:

the theory I have is that after MASH basically nobody was writing the right kind of roles for him (including, unfortunately, himself)/casting him in the right kinds of roles. no idea to what extent this was due to his "what a nice guy" persona (which, you know, he disliked -- funny how I got into ralph macchio and then alan alda, who both suffered from being basically just not assholes in the industry), but also his own movies play into that as well!

His least interesting movies are when he's playing the straight man in a completely ordinary life in which there may be others making out-there decisions that he reacts to (but not always, sometimes it's just a host of straight-men)*.

*when I say straight man I mean in the comedic sense, not the queer sense, although he should have played more queers, he did it well

he's far better suited to the oddities, the bad guys, the larger-than-life, the flamboyant, the not-fitting-in, or on the flipside the grand, slimy upholder/benefitor of establishment -- he's interesting as a character-actor in Big things, you can't take your eyes off him! the best I can say of him in all of these other types of movies is that, yeah, he does an alright job, and he's... nice, idk. nice guy that boring guy in that movie.

(the closest we get in his own movies is sweet liberty, but also... the character in that movie is just alan alda 😂 I do want to watch the one he did with carol burnett in 1974 though, I think they bring out the best in each other -- I think if someone had given him a strict structure around which to write, like MASH was, he might have been able to push it more. This is the guy who wrote and directed "Dreams"!!!)

I don't know when he internalised the idea that he worked best just hanging about in these slice-of-life-with-nothing-happening comedy movies, but gosh do I keep wanting to go back in time and put him in something ridiculous like an over-the-top horror or voicing a silly character in an animated musical or some big drama film with Big emotions (and going by the ones I've seen, historical dramas suit him too).

why did they keep making him perform small emotions??? the guy grew up around burlesque performers, for goodness sake!

#alan alda #the alan alda movie thesis #alan! alan im going back in time and im making you do something ridiculous #im putting you in a robin williams movie to cure you of your admiration for dull *comedians* like woody allen #my guy you were around marlo thomas and carol burnett! you worked with jane fonda!#don't sell yourself short!

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narislotus · 1 year

Text

love washed ashore

a kokosara drabble ( ~800 words)

- sailor sara x mermaid kokomi (hbd queen!)

- love at first sight

- no warnings (rated teen)

A flash of light across the sky.

The first sign of trouble and the last coherent memory in Sara’s head. The moments afterward were in a miscellaneous jumble of thunderous bangs and a sickening feeling in the pits of her stomach. Even in her unconscious state, the sounds of horrified screams rang into her ears and elevated her already-splitting headache. Along with that pain is the aching sensation persisting throughout her entire body.

All Sara could feel was pain.

Well, for the most part.

Combating the distant screeches was the sound of a hypnotic melody that got louder along with the awakening of her consciousness. The heat from the island sun was nothing compared to the heat radiating a particular part of her arm - a soothing warmth rather than an agonizing one. Despite her battle with the heaviness in her eyelids, Sara begrudgingly opens them and was immediately blinded by the scorching sun.

Just as Sara reached up to cover her eyes, another hand beat her to it. She didn’t comment on this at first as she focused on regaining her eyesight. But seconds later, she recognized the oddity of the situation. She noticed the hand when her vision was restored - or, at least, what she assumed to be a hand. The limb was slimy with webbed fingers and scales scattered across what would be the wrist. It was an odd combination of human and aquatic.

As the hand lifted, Sara turned to her left when she noticed something flapping at the corner of her eyes. She nearly jumped when she saw a large fish-like tail at her side, extending under her head. As peculiar as it was, the appendage was quite majestic. The ombré of pinks and blues sparkled under the sun’s reflection, finishing with a crepe-colored caudal fin. Sara would have had a stronger reaction if she wasn’t so dazed but was still curious regardless. Her unexplained questions and light pressure on her arm led her to immediately turn her attention to the right.

And just then - that was Sara’s fatal mistake.

As her eyes traveled up the pale torso and seashell-themed bralette, she faced what could only be described as eerie beauty. It all started from the neck, being altered by what appeared to be many gills slashed across. Her eyes journeyed upwards to rose-colored lips that sourced the sedative tune. Behind them, Sara could see the tiniest fangs sticking out before being masked behind a tight smile.

Sara’s eyes continued upwards and passed by rounded cheeks and a pointed nose - both flushed light red. Her travel paused as she met another set of eyes - a gradient of deep indigo to the lightest pinks. Despite the lack of a pupil, these eyes were anything but soulless. Rather, it was like a vibrant spread of paints being mixed along a canvas. The more you stared, the more you were unknowingly drawn into the masterpiece. With the aid of the tranquilizing music, it became difficult to turn her gaze away.

A gust of wind brushed past them, kicking up the creature’s pinkish-blue hair. A hand reached up to tuck the hair strands behind a finned ear. Pearls were decorating the oceanic being’s ears, neck, and head. Once the shock started to wear off, Sara could piece every new sight together to get a complete visual of the artistry.

“How long will you keep staring without a word?” the woman spoke delicately, complimenting her angelic image.

“I-I apologize,” Sara stammered, sounding unusually nervous. “You’re just so…”

“You aren’t the first. But you’re certainly the most notable,” the woman smiled, stroking Sara’s cheek. “Although, if you had stared any longer, I would’ve suspected some sort of brain damage. You were in quite the wreckage.”

Sara attempted to move but every limb felt like it was being punctured with needles. She noticed that parts of her limbs were wrapped with bandages, with a part of her arm still being tended to.

“Since we’ll be in each other’s presence for a while, we should at least become familiar,” the hybrid woman continued. “Call me Kokomi. And you are…?”

“Sara…”

“Sara? Simple but endearing. Then, let me ask - are you afraid of me, Sara?”

Sara immediately shook her head, being compelled not to think.

“Then we’ll get along just fine - even better than fine,” Kokomi giggled. “Now, rest. I’ll prepare food for you once I’m finished.”

Sara felt coerced into following her every word, already being swayed back to sleep. She didn’t know where she was, if anyone else had survived, or even if she would ever make it home again. But all of those worries felt distant - just like the sound of hypnotic humming in the background as she closed her eyes.

#genshin writing #writeblr #writing #genshin impact #kokomi #sangonomiya kokomi #sara #kujou sara #kujou sara x kokomi #kokosara

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patwrites · 2 years

Text

Basically you walk into Red Lobster on a stormy Wednesday evening. You sit down with your wife and two kids. The waiter comes by to take your order as you hungrily ask for the endless shrimp.

15 minutes later everybody is served. Your wife and kids ordered the endless shrimp as well. As the night morphs into inky blackness outside you all talk and laugh and eat. You eat plate after plate after plate of shrimp. After a couple hours, you and your family are stuffed. You motion to the waiter to bring the bill and look down at your plate, letting out a small chuckle. It looks like you haven't even eaten a single bit of shrimp- a curious thing since you have been gorging yourself on shrimp constantly for the better part of two hours. But before you can puzzle over this small oddity any longer, the waiter bustles over to your table and hands you the bill.

As you reach over to grab the check your hand closes instead around a squishy pile of shrimp. There is no check being held out to you, just another plate of shrimp. A loud thunderclap booms outside as you look up at the waiter to ask why he brought you more shrimp instead of the check, when you are suddenly alarmed to find not the waiter, but a giant, human-sized shrimp in server attire staring blankly down at you. You spin around in your seat to see if your wife can see the shrimp waiter and are immediately frightened out of your wits. Your wife is no longer seated there next to you- only another human-sized shrimp wearing your wife's dress and hoop earrings.

Numb with horror, you quickly glance across the table at your two children. They are both shrimps. You let out a yell as another thunderclap echoes across the sky and it begins to rain. You distantly register the start of the torrential downfall outside, which sounds like large hail, as you spare a sweeping glance across the restaurant. There are no humans present. There are only shrimps seated at booths, shrimps seated at tables, and even a small group of shrimps at the bar. They are all eating large platefuls of shrimp and leering at you menacingly.

Your heart begins to pound in your chest like a war drum. You stumble backwards, half falling over your chair in your haste to get up. You sprint for the door and run outside into the dark stormy night. As you dash through the parking lot towards your car you feel something like a giant hot raindrop hit your face and bounce off towards the ground. Looking down you see a shrimp lying on the ground. You look out across the parking lot and see puddles of shrimp collecting in the cracks in the pavement and across the roofs of the closest cars. Another warm object strikes your head. It's literally raining shrimp.

You find your car and fumble, hands shaking uncontrollably, with your keys. Finally unlocking the car you slip inside and engage the door locks. The human-sized shrimp from the restaurant are now congregating outside the front doors, staring across the parking lot at you. Their pale orange-pink bodies eerily backlit from the light streaming out from the open doors behind them.

You try to cram the key into the ignition, but it folds against the ignition plate and squishes in your hand. You look down. There are no car keys, only several mangled shrimp on a keyring in your trembling hand. You punch the steering wheel in frustration accidentally setting off the car alarm.

The shrimps outside the restaurant hear the noise and hungrily start to advance across the parking lot towards you. You try in vain to cram the shrimp key into the ignition but you know it is pointless.

The shrimp slowly approach the car and surround it, rocking it back and forth, pressing their slimy bodies against the frame. You hear the fiberglass doors groan under the pressure as one of the rear windows shatters, spraying the backseat of the car with fragments of glass.

You know there is no hope left. There is no escape. White-faced and shaking, you reach across the console and open the glovebox. Crammed under the insurance papers and a pile of napkins is the Glock 19 you always bring with you when you leave the house. You pull the gun from its holster and pause for a fraction of a second that holds an eternity. With tears streaming down your face, you put the gun to the roof of your mouth. Trying not to imagine what it feels like to die, only forcing yourself to think of your wife and kids you close your eyes. Then you pull the trigger.

A singular shrimp comes zooming out of the barrel into your mouth. In your darkest hour, death itself refuses to end you. For death is not the end. There can only be shrimp- and they are endless.

#copypasta #endless shrimp

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