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#we need a better tag for the three of them this is so silly
maskofnova · 15 days
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You weren't invited to this party but theyre gonna do a cool pose at you anyway until you leave the room.
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Follow You Anywhere 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You're online existence threatens to leak into your real life.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Note: I couldn't help myself.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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"So... this is what it looks like today?" You aim your camera at the sky outside your window, "sorry, the screen is kinda in the way."
You let out a nervous chuckle and flip the camera to yourself. You make a silly face. You were never overly fond of your image on the screen but the vlogs help. Like a little diary, mostly for yourself. You and your seven followers on Insta.
You bat your lashes and fix the clip in your hair, "oh, I got this free. Yeah, I bought a new hair oil and they threw this in the bag." You let your thoughts run wild from your tongue. You found a journal too daunting, the blank lines leaving you just as empty. This is easier. "Anyway, I shouldn't have spent the money to begin with."
You give another splintered laugh. The one you let out when you're anxious, or scared, or happy, or even mad.  You bite your lip and catch yourself in your digitized reflection. You stop and turn your camera to your bedroom.
"Today, I'm gonna clean this mess. Me and you guys together."
You scour the room with the lens. Your laundry is piled on the floor and you have a stack of books you need to put on the shelf. It isn't the worst it's been but it's getting cluttered.
"But first, we'll have breakfast, can't start the stream on an empty stomach," you chirp and nearly drop the phone, "oops, uh..." You fix your grip and check the number in the corner. You have one viewer; on a good day, it's three, most days, it's just you talking to the void.
You go into the kitchen, just down the short hall from your bedroom, opening into your living room. You go to the counter and prop up the phone so the camera is on you again. You tap your fingers and hum.
"What should we have for breakfast?" You ask. You don't feel as crazy talking to yourself even if there's really no one watching. "Oo, French toast. Gotta use up the eggs."
You go to the fridge and pull out the eggs and the milk. You bring them back to the counter, shuffling around for a bowl, a whisk, and the cinnamon.
You mix up your ingredients and dip the bread, one piece at a time. You put on a skillet and fry up the slices, presenting a stack of three to the camera. You smile and dust some icing sugar over the top.
“Probably shouldn't have all this sugar for breakfast,” you shrug at the camera, “alright, quick break…” 
You put the stream onto the ‘back soon’ page and take your plate to the small foldout table against the wall. You're not a fan of eating on camera. You finish and rinse up before snatching your phone up again.
You return to your bedroom and put the phone on a middle shelf and flip the stream back to live. Still that one viewer…
“Anyway, I'm back,” you wave at the lens.
You hesitate, looking around as you stand straight and spin. Cleaning, right. Before you can set to work, the phone dings.
A message?
You go back to your phone and squint at the chat bubble floating up.
‘Looked delicious too.’
“It was,” you agree with a grin, “thanks.”
‘Don't mean the toast.’
The next message has you blinking. Your nape burns. They can't mean… you clear your throat and giggle.
“Well, let's get started,” you back up and clap your hands, “you know, I've been so carried away with work. This place is a pigsty.”
You sit on the floor and sort through the clothes. You toss them into the basket as you sit in silence. You stop yourself and glance at the phone.
“How about some tunes?” 
You walk on your knees to your bedside and turn on your bluetooth speaker. You go to your phone and find a playlist before pulling the stream back to full screen. As you do, you hear a noise you've never heard before.
‘BourbonBear has tipped.’ Huh? Really?
“Oh, thanks, er, BourbonBear,” you giggle around the name, “how nice. Maybe one day I can afford a proper camera for this, huh?”
You smile and go back to the dirty clothes. You quickly ball up a pair of panties and shove them in the basket. You carry on until they're all untangled.
You move on and tidy your desk, bending underneath to gather up a few loose pens. You make your way around the bedroom, putting away books, fixing the blankets on the bed, and straightening the little figurines on the shelf above the bed.
You grab the stick vacuum and suck up the dirt and proclaim your task done. It took a lot longer than you thought. It's after eleven. The one viewer is still there.
“Whew, okay, I'm gonna get myself washed up and go to the park. Maybe I'll post that later,” you give a thumbs up next to your head as you talk to the phone, “thank you.”
You end the stream and let out a sigh. Your videos aren't much and you doubt they're very interesting but it's like venting for you. Almost like having an invisible friend. You think you will take some pictures of the flowers to share.
🧸
You take your usual path through the park. The walks help you unwind your worries. You try to come after work at least a couple days during the week and both days on the weekend. You find the mindlessness of the routine to be calming.
The deeper you get into the wooded length of the path, you slow to admire the birds in the branches and the critters crawling in the brush. You take out your phone and snap a few photos of a blue jay before it wings away shyly. You smile and flip the cam, smiling as you take a goofy selfie. You can add that to your post.
The path winds ahead and you follow it in the din, listening to the river just down the incline to your left and the tweeting from the sky. You lift your face and inhale the woodsy scent. The sudden crack of a twig startles you and you spin to face the noise. There's no one there. Sometimes you forget other people are free to just walk on through.
You chuckle at yourself and continue on. The path leads out to a suburban street where you like to look at the houses. They're much more spacious and pretty than your grimy brick apartment building.
You come out from the shade of the trees and wander along the avenue. There's a mailbox painted to look like the house it stands before and a little nook for second hand children's books to be borrowed through the neighbourhood. Sometimes you picture yourself living in one of those houses though you don't think it could ever truly be.
As you crane your head, you sense a shadow in your peripheral. You're walking a bit slow. You sidle to the side to get out of the way of the other pedestrian. When no one passes, you look back. No one.
You must be imagining things. You shrug and plod along. You're already thinking of what kind of tea you'll have when you get in.
🧸
You sit down with your mug of ginger citrus tea and set to editing your post. You add a light filter to the photos as you shuffle through them on your laptop. The process is slow as the computer is nearly five years old now and chuffing on its 4GB drive. You get to the selfie you snapped, a stop.
You lean in to get a better glimpse of the background. It's fuzzy but there's a figure just over your shoulder. How could that be? You looked and there was no one there. That's so strange.
You stare as a chill courses through you. You're thankful you hadn't put your earphones in. You wouldn't have heard whoever it was and they may have even snuck up on you. Or maybe it's just a trick of the light.
You hit ‘post’ and try to shake off the foreboding. It's nothing. You're being silly. Besides, you're home and safe now. Next time, you'll be more alert.
A message pops up. You stare at the dot over the chat bubble. You tap with your thumb and bring up the DMs.
'Stream tonight?' BourbonBear asks.
You tilt your head. You already did some today. You're tired and want to lie down and enjoy your time off. You type back 'sorry, not tonight. tomorrow <3' and another notification vibrates. A comment on your latest post.
'Pretty sweater', also from BourbonBear. You heart their comment and leave a thanks below.
You flip back to the selfie. You can't really see your sweater in the picture, just the scalloped knitting of the collar. Well, you suppose it does look cute. You put your phone down and leave it on your desk. That's enough Insta for today.
🧸
You time your shopping trip for the least busy hour. It's early and the store is almost empty except for employees stacking bread on shelves or wandering listlessly around the deli. You have your phone in the basket of the cart, aimed at you as you roll it along slowly and check your list.
The stream is just as empty. It's only just started but you don't expect too many people to be up at this hour. You stop and grab a loaf of sourdough, checking the date before showing it to the lens and putting it in the cart. You smile and announce the next item.
"Strawberries... you know I was thinking I might get raspberries instead," you say, catching the eye of one of the yawning employees. You must seem like a weirdo. It's why you typically don't film in public.
As you roll around to the fruit, you notice the count change. One viewer. You choose a basket of raspberries and show those. You see a message float up; morning.
You smile and return the greeting softly and place the berries down carefully beside your phone. You need yogurt to go with the berries.
You work down the list, making some substitutes as you tick off each item. You linger in the ice cream section a bit too long and talk yourself out of a gallon of rocky road. You lean on the handle of the cart and smile down at the lens.
"Going to check out," you say, "see you all later."
All? There's still just the one. You end the stream and take your phone out of the basket.
You wheel around to checkout and line up at the only open till. You put your items up as you greet the cashier with a smile. She seems tired as she gives a dull response.
As you put the yogurt on the belt, you sense someone join the queue behind you. You glance over as a large man stands only feet away. He's tall and burly and staring at you. Maybe he heard you talking to your audience, or he would think, yourself. You continue to unload your groceries.
"Never tried those," he comments as you take out a box of strawberry Pocky.
You pause and hold them up, chuckling nervously, as you do.
"Pretty good," you answer, "I eat way too many."
You notice the man doesn't have a basket or a cart. That realisation needles under your skin. Maybe he's just getting lotto or smokes?
"You like sweet stuff."
"Too much," you squeak even though it doesn't sound like a question.
He just stares, not saying a word. You swallow tightly and pull the last few items out of the cart and get behind it to wheel it through the lane. As you do, he looms closely, adding to the sweat gathering on your lower back.
You roll along and wait for the cashier to ring through the rest of your things. She bags them up neatly in two large paper bags. You pay with your card and thank her as you lift the first into your cart. The man behind you moves forward and grabs the second, startling you.
"Got it," he says as he places it with the other, squeezing by you, crowding you.
"Oh, excuse me, sir," you stammer, "oh," you lean on the cart to roll it to the end of the lane as you make space between you and the stranger. "Thanks, er, uh... thanks."
You turn and grab the handle, jittering. He's really weirding you out. Especially as you realise he's walked right by the cashier. He's following you.
"I can help get ‘em in your car," he offers in a drawl.
"Oh, that's alright, I... bus," you cringe as you realise you've said too much.
"I could drive you. I have a truck."
"No thank you," you walk faster, the cart rattling with your pace.
"Why not?"
"I don't know you, erm, sorry--"
"You don't?" He catches up and shoves his phone in your face, your Insta profile glaring back at you, "I paid for the milk, maybe the berries..."
"What?" You stop, just by the door and turn to him. "I don't--"
"You haven't eaten, have you? I'll take you for French toast. That's your favourite."
"Um," you blink at him as your eyes tinge, "I don't..."
"You got me through a hard campaign, just wanna say thank you," he adjusts his cap and you notice the pin on it. He's a veteran. Oh, 'campaign'. 
“Just got back home," he shifts on his feet, a meek gesture for such a large man, "and... your videos helped me remember it. Helped me hold onto it in the sh-- in the stuff."
"I... wow, okay, that's... I'm glad I could do that."
"I really don't mind giving you a ride. Lots of weirdos on the bus," he insists.
"That's nice but--"
"Please," he softens his tone, "been a while since I sat down and had breakfast without worrying about the sky falling."
You shudder and grip the cart tight. You don't know how to say no. You didn't think about who was watching. You always just assumed they were bots. Then you think of the chaching noise and the amount flashing on the screen.
"BourbonBear?" You ask.
"Yeah," he cracks a crooked smile and smooths his hand over his thick beard. "Everyone calls me Syv.”
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gremlingottoosilly · 10 months
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[If you need to be mean] chapter 2
Chapter 1
Konig decided to meet his new favorite civilian at the cafe you work at. Unfortunately for both of you, you're both socially awkward. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)
Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective
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— Did something good happen, colonel? You are practically shining. 
Horangi always had this special ability of telling nonsense with the most serious face and deep voice. He also was the only one in his unit to ever be brave enough to joke with his superior – even though all the other KorTac members usually don’t risk their asses to be put on fire list because of some silly joke. He is the closest König has to a friend – and it’s kinda sad, actually, that a broken gambling addict is the only person who can read his emotions so well, even with his hood and permanently sour expression. 
But something good did happen – you happen, of course. 
He spend a few days of self-reflecting, drinking and punching training manekens in the gym, trying so fucking hard to put your adorable civillian face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, but the way your features would get distorted into something even more adorable every time he closed his eyes, was concerning. He dealt with those little obsessions before – nothing that a few good rounds of jerking off until he would feel nothing but emptiness and hatred to himself couldn’t handle. He surely can’t fall that deep down, he only saw you for like an hour and it was literally three days ago! 
— I read your reports about the last terrorist encounter. Good job, Horangi. 
— And I heard about that civilian girl you pulled, sir. Thought we are bringing those to the police, not their houses. 
— I had to make sure she wasn't a spy. 
— And she wasn’t? 
König thinks – would be far easier if he would have an official, legal reason to keep you locked up on the base without the right to come out. Would be far easier for him to just think about you as an enemy, so he would have normal reasons for thinking about you constantly, and not feeling guilty. It’s normal to think so much about your enemies – this is what keeps you alive on the field, if you can determine their shortcomings early and make sure that you can fight them. He would love having you as an enemy – it would at least give him some info before starting obsession over little ol’ you. 
— No. 
— That would give us at least some lead to the terrorist cell. Feels like all locals are protecting them from it. 
— I understand your frustration. But at least they are not cutting our pay. 
— We might as well rebel if they’d try to. 
— We are not stepping on terrorist’s route. 
— I was joking, sir. Only thing that’s left here except for card games. 
Horangi hates stationing in this country as much as König is – and, given that he is a sergeant and doesn’t have as much rank expectations, can talk about this openly. This operation is perfect except for the lack of intel, lack of action and lack of basically anything to do – the local forces are handling minor threats, while mercs here are mostly to show off how the government has money to hire them. KorTac would pay for actually having to fight some bad guys around here – but the bigger ones are hiding and lower ones are already getting tracked down by the local military. 
The only interesting thing to do, seemingly, is to obsess over local girls – and König thought he is better than this. 
But he isn’t losing sleep over thinking about how scared and fragile you looked that night. Especially not even going to think about how adorable your little pout was, and the way your hands were trembling. He definitely doesn't want to know every tiny detail about your life, what you like and what you hate, what is your favorite position in bed and the color of underwear you are currently wearing – or even if you are wearing one. And he isn’t some sort of creep that would spend an obnoxiously long amount of time registering on social media – god, he is too old for this shit, it literally feels even more humiliating than his whole school experience – just so he can find your accounts and get instant masturbation material. 
You really shouldn’t post so much half-naked photos – yes, this is a reel from your last summer vacation and yes, this swimsuit looks beautiful on you, but have you ever considered that some creep(not someone like him, he is palming himself very respectfully) would use those photos as a way to get themself off? Terrible, scary, he can’t wait for you to post some new photos – maybe in something that he would buy you, way skimpier and more expensive, so he could protect you from those people. 
He looks at your posts about work – and he hates this stupid blue bird app because it never works for him, always filled with some assholes who are trying to argue with literally everyone, and the way he can’t even see your posts properly because of the weird ads. No, he doesn’t need a “Thing that would make your dick longer” he literally has a problem with making it smaller. No, he doesn’t need some dumb T-shirt even though he kinda reflects with the funny pun about pokemons and would love to wear something containing his major interest even though it would look ridiculous on a 6 '10 killing machine. 
But König reads all of your short posts about the way you hate working in customer service, and his hand is almost slipping to the ad about wedding rings. You hate your job, he hates his – practically soulmates, even though he doesn’t really hate the killing part of his employment, he just doesn’t want to be in charge of people and making them steal the fun of destroying. He would, however, agree to get as many ranks as possible if that would mean providing for you. If that would allow him to be by your side and listen to your sweet voice, he would agree for the next promotion even if higher ups would want him to make some PR wawes and become a fucking fashion model. 
But he is completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing is wrong with him when he can’t even think about visiting you in real life, but he leaves a like on every of your posts in every social media he has – you have terrible online safety habits by the way, he can already see what the inside of your apartment looks like, your place of work from three different angles, and how the front door of your apartment is held together by a very easy to destroy lock. He could snatch it in one deliberate kick, not even speaking about just shooting it. Not like he would need to, he wants you to be with him willingly. Or, at least, don’t fight him too much in case he would actually lose his patience and do something drastic. 
It has already been three days and he feels like he is going crazy. He had those things before, overthinking about tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but even then he’d understand that he can’t be with them – it could be his school crushes that were, ironically, crushed because of his anxiety. It might be some casual flings with his fellow soldiers that would either get killed in the field or never happen because it would be fraternization. Some random people he saw at the airport and already imagined life with multiple kids and a dog. He always knew he had a problem – but it was never like this before. Never dangerous. 
The problem is – he knows that he can have you. 
Maybe not in a traditional way, he doubts that you would just marry him on the spot, but he can court you at least. He can shower you with gifts or ridiculous tips at your job, he can just snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate. He can make his men kidnap you, and while it is inhumane and you don’t deserve this, he would calm you down – and then have his happily ever after. 
He knows that he can have you – and it drives him crazy. He could stop himself previously, when he didn’t have anything for himself to be considered desirable – but now, with his rank and all the new opportunities and money it brings, he can’t stop but fantasize. 
You under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed from sweat and marked with his teeth.
You under him, so wonderfully tight, not letting him go even for an inch – and you are perfectly taking him, no matter how gigantic he is. 
You under him, smiling, cuddling after a long night – every night after a mission, where he could spend his free time deep in your body, listening to your melodic moans and little whines. 
You under…
— Can I…can I take your order, sir? 
He is a disgusting human being because lives of thousand people are on a stake, he would just doom them all if he wouldn’t find those terrorists soon – and he wastes time on sitting in this tiny ass cafe, trying to place himself on the small seat while being all too nervous to just talk to you. Like a person. Of course he had to go to your shift – he already determined which days you were working because it increased the number of angry “I hate my job and want to kill my manager” posts on that dumb social media, and he knows which hours you work at – of course it’s almost night time, the closing shift, because he simply can’t have himself not worry about you. 
He is a creep, weirdo and all that words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones all of these days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are munching on the pen you are using to write his order. Oh, yes, order. He is supposed to order something, he can’t just give you money for how adorable you look in that white apron – even though you are absolutely stunning and should get money. 
God, he would murder everyone in this building just for them to never look at your legs again. 
God, he would bury himself between them if only you’d allow him to.
— Sir, is everything okay? 
He served in the military for far longer that you lived, probably. Most of his life, he got used to being referred to as something honorable, or referring to other people like that – and he never thought that just being referred to as “sir” would make his dick twitch in his pants. He crosses his legs, hoping not to get too imposing – he already towers over the tiny table like a giant he is, barely even fitting in it. He thinks he has a healthy amount of self-control – then he looks at you again, and thanks all the gods he knows for the mask he is wearing – at least under the black surgeon piece and dark glasses you won’t really see his blush. Or that little twitching in his eyes that is indicating danger. 
— Sorry, I…can I, um, have a coffee? Bitte…please, I mean. 
He hates how nervous he is – like high school again, asking his crush out just to be ridiculed. But you look perfect like this – controlled environment, you can’t just laugh at him and say that he is a weird nerd from another class, you have a manager who is controlling of such behavior. He would never tell on you, of course, he wants you to be happy, even if this job makes you the most miserable – even though he kinda thinks of you as a weak for this, his job literally involves killing people and he doesn't argue that much! 
But you giggle – sweet, innocent sound, it drives him crazy even more than he previously was. It doesn’t feel like those girls at school – yes, he still can’t let that go, even though his therapist says he has to – and he loses all control at how beautiful you sound. He wants to take you away right now, pay you for your workplace however you get them, and just use you as he wants – no matter how socially unacceptable. He protects this country, he has the right for a little prize, right? No, this would be terrible, he shouldn’t just harass sweet little civilians like you, he should…
— What type of coffee, sir? Do you want some dessert? 
This is a typical question, he was at cafes and coffee shops a thousand times but, for some reason, it feels almost like you are teasing him. You bite the end of your pen with those adorable teeth of yours – he wants to feel it on his fingers, he wants you to leave bite marks all over his body as a sign of marking him as yours. He smiles under his mask, hoping that you would somehow feel it – how happy you make him feel, how hard it’s for him not to lose control. 
— No. Just coffee. 
— Sugar? 
He would like some sugar, of course – but the one he wants is probably not for sale, even though that adorable white apron of yours makes you look like a candy. He would love to unwrap you from those silly clothes and devour what belongs to him for the right of protector, but he knows how scared you might be. He is not a good person, he killed more people that he could count – countless fathers, sons, mothers, he shouldn’t even think about having a right for a family of his own after all of this. He is not a good person and his moral code changes with every kill he gets – but for hell sake, he wants to be nice with you. You deserve it, he knows. More than he is, for sure. 
König doesn’t really like sugary stuff, it was always too childish, made him too energetic, disrupted his very peculiar way of eating things. Sweets makes him only more hungry, makes him crave more, and he wants to be as serious as possible – so he usually drinks and eats stuff that is no tastier than a pile of dry sand. But he responds before he can think, too focused on that shiny lipgloss you have on your lips. He would lick and bite it all – soon, he hopes. 
— Ja. Thank you. 
— Good choice, sir.
Your lips are curling into a small, shy smile and he likes sugar now. He isn’t sure if you are telling everyone that their order is a good choice, maybe you just want to get more tips, but he hopes that maybe, he is special. Maybe there is something nice happening to him after all. A small reward for not being a total monster on the last mission he had, even though he could. He can’t do anything but to stare at you, his only saving grace is the dark lenses of his glasses – he can’t wear his hood in civil situations, unfortunately, people would stare, stare, stare and that would make him want to pull their eyes out. 
But you smile and he smiles also, even if you can’t see it. He is looking at your legs and, fuck, he is a disgusting old creature that preys upon younger women because he never had a positive experience before. He is a total creep and a monster that should be put down already – but he stares at your legs under that waitress dress, and he would pay your manager a few thousand Euros to cut the length of your skirt in half. 
Then he sees all the others looking at you the same way – old people, young people, there aren’t a lot of guests at this time in the evening, most people are afraid of going into public places while the war on terrorism is going on. There aren’t a lot of people while it’s almost closing time, but he doesn't even want to think about all the other men looking at you like this. Devouring you with their eyes, probably leaving sleazy comments as you go through the small cafe, just as overworked as your other coworkers. He wants to take you from here. 
You don’t deserve people looking at you like you aren’t even a person – only he can look at you respectfully, stripping you with his eyes. He can be soft for you, can be perfect – if you would just let him. 
König doesn’t want to be a creep around you, but he was looking at your legs for five minutes already, picturing the way your body would look under all of these clothes, and his cock gets painfully hard. He thanks himself for wearing normal, baggy pants, not something tighter – at least his embarrassment is completely covered by his clothes. 
— Here is your coffee. Anything else? 
You look nervous, of course – but he seems way softer than he was a couple days ago, at night. The absence of his creepy mask is obviously helping, and because he is sitting, you don’t have to tilt your head too high, causing your neck to stretch uncomfortably. He looks awkwards, like a big dog that still tries to fit into his old bed, and it causes you to smile a little bit more. You made sure to place a couple of sugar cubes on the plate, so he could decide for himself, if he wants to use them all – but the mere thought of that giant of a man, a colonel, hardened soldier liking something silly and sweet is making you giggle. 
He looks way softer than he was that night, and you can almost forget about how scared you were – how you were thinking that this would be the end for you, that one, overthinking part of your mind already making up the scenarios of getting martial lawed because of the broken curfew. You can even see his hair – and fight the urge to touch it a little. He is still who-knows-how-old and still a military presence in your peaceful country. 
You still want to ruffle his hair. 
He still wants to take your clothes off and make you his. 
— Nein, thank you. 
He stares at the cup for a good few seconds – if he wants to drink, he needs to actually take it off. He has many scars on his face, and his mouth sometimes feels like it has more dead skin than alive one – he doesn’t want to attract attention. Some people are already staring at his badge and how awkward a giant man like him looking in that cozy, tiny place – but he also wants you to see how much pain he can withstand without getting killed. How he can protect you from anything because there literally isn’t anything he won’t do for you. You would appreciate a man with scars, it’s a sign of bravery, right? 
Then he thinks about all the times he would take off his mask and how people around him would look at him – with pity, with fear, with disgust sometimes even though he is certain that his face isn’t as deformed as some other parts of his body. He even almost managed to grow a beard once! Then he had to scrub it all off because hair was growing in very uneven patches and he looked like something crawled on his chin and died. 
König fought in countless battles, spent his youth training to be the best killer possible, took part in many major conflicts and killed hundreds of people while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – except for talking to people sometimes, maybe, and even now he is trying to work on it with his therapist, instead of just killing anyone who looks at him funny. He isn’t afraid of the dark, of death, of uncertainty in his life. But he is afraid of you looking at him unmasked and thinking that you, in fact, find him disgusting. 
You almost want to take your time to look at what he will do – is he going to take off his mask? Is he going to drink right through the fabric? You have too much work to just stay at his table and stare, even if you want to – but you are trying to give him occasional glances as he just…sits at his table. Not even moving, just staring at the cup and sometimes moving his head to look at you – or just ornaments at the wall behind you. Yes, probably the ornament. 
König sits at the table and, well, he doesn’t even want to drink his coffee because just looking at the way your ass sways under that terribly short skirt is enough to set him on fire. He wants to take you home with him – even though his home is all the way up in Austria. He would take you, you probably wouldn’t even be mad at you – you could be a perfect little family. He already waited too long to start one, never finding anyone who would win his heart for a long run but he was sure that this three-days-obsession would last long. He isn’t sure, however, if he likes it or not. 
He ended up not drinking at all – he knows that he can’t just waste multiple hours, he already got his lieutenants covering the spot with paper work while their commander is away at searching for the love of his life. He wants to be with you longer, probably walk you home again and make sure to protect you from any creeps that would want to attack. He can’t have that, it’s obvious – he is a colonel, unfortunately, he is still on the hunt for those terrorists, he can barely give himself an hour of free time these days. 
He already indulged in his fantasies too much when he folds a 100 Euros banknote and puts it into the bill – not sure about how much money it is here, not wanting to give you any trouble with exchanging currency, he just hopes that would be enough for you to at least not worry about food for a few days. Or buy yourself something nice – what girls like these days? Guns, books, some fancy lip gloss, a hat for their adorable little turtles? He would buy you a pet turtle, he always wanted one as a kid – right before his father said that all lizards are products of sinful corporations and a lazy pet like a turtle, unlike a giant dog breed, is completely useless and unmanly. 
He doesn’t want to be here when you’ll get the bill – he is too afraid that he didn’t gave you enough, that you'd be disappointed. He would love to give you more, of course, but he doesn’t want to just shove you the money like you are some sort of cheap whore – he wants to give you gifts, something meaningful, to steal you from poverty altogether. König is an expert in infiltration and escaping arts, he can exit the location without anyone noticing a thing, even with his size – and then you look at him, directly into his eyes, covered by sunglasses – and your face is twisted in shock as you realize what exactly he left you. 
— Wait, sir! Please, I…god, I will get you the change right now, I’m so sorry, it’s closing shift, I…I’m sorry, I completely forgot…
You are almost begging him to stop and let you give him his money, a honorable deed really – but all he can think of is how nice you would look on your knees, begging him to fuck you already. How perfect you would look all whiny and spoiled, asking him for something expensive, whatever your cute head would want. You would look so complete on his lap, tugging on his shirt and asking your daddy for a new toy. You would…
— It was a tip. Take it. 
He wants to be able to tell you how perfect you look, how he wants to just throw you over his shoulder in a totally non-creepy way and make you his little wifey. How he would take multiple months of leave to just be with you, marry you, breed you. He wants to have a way with words, but they are useless to him – he can’t even say he likes you, it’s embarrassing, he is almost forty, he got his rank as youngest colonel in history of KorTac, he can literally have almost everything he wants – except for basic social skills. 
He feels like a creep, an old man trying to steal that perfect girl from the shiny world, and he hates himself for it – but then you blush and he can almost convince himself that yeah, you like that creep too. 
— I…shit, I mean, sorry…thank you, sir. 
— Don’t wander at night again. 
He feels like a scolding father and you giggle again, too innocent and naive to understand his thoughts. 
— I won’t. Promise. 
He then slowly leans closer, puts a hand on your shoulder again – goosebumps are running on your skin. His head is near yours now, he is whispering in your ear – and you are almost sure that you shouldn’t have come closer to him like this, that it’s unprofessional from your side, that everyone is staring at you. They are – and you try to ignore it, but…
— Wear shorts under your skirt next time. Never know who might look at your legs like that. 
You would slap him here and there. You would scream and run away right now, but for some stupid, dumb, completely terrifying reason, you…almost like how protective he sounds. And the money he gave you is also helping – even if just a little bit. 
König looks at the way you blush even more, and he knows already that he won’t ever let you go. 
Tag list: @iwritesjud3
Please write if you want to be tagged in the next chapter!
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dvrk-moon · 3 months
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ENHYPEN OT7 ; 엔하이픈
PLAYING MINECRAFT WITH THEM
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requested : no
genre : crack, fluff
pairing : enhypen x reader (can be platonic)
warnings : cursing + the members being menaces
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heeseung ; 희승
absolute sweat
like speed runner esque
nags on you for being too slow and making him have a speed run time of over fifteen minutes
like you’re barely getting an oak log and he’s already in the nether. like u turn away for two seconds and he’s already built the portal
“heeseung where did you go” “i’ve almost killed the wither wait” … “CAN U CHILL OUT WE JUST CREATED THIS WORLD”
so u thought u were gonna have fun hanging out with heeseung on minecraft? NO
because as soon as he finishes his speed run and you finally got your first diamond, he’s decided to build a base
and u thought he was gonna be all cute and make u a room awwww!!! no.
he does make u a room, but the stairway up to ur room is a parkour course
(when the fuck did he have time to even make that?!!?!!)
first and last time playing minecraft with him
jay ; 제이
absolute knight in shining armor
literally
those mobs have nothing on his iron drip
protects u even if u don’t need it
“oh shit there’s a creeper” “ON MY WAY Y/N”
his netherite sword is CRACKED. like perfect enchantments
when he’s not protecting u he becomes ur farmer
the farm is so organized and beautiful jay is literally my husband pls
does in fact laugh when u die tho
like he’ll collect your stuff for you but the second he sees “[your gamertag] fell from a high place” he’s going to laugh for like two minutes straight
also he keeps an extra chest in his room for u
like in case u need something OR u die and he’s not able to collect ur stuff so it despawns
jay is so husband. even in minecraft
jake ; 제이크
he’s played before ok (trust him)
(it was when he was like nine)
like he’s very very. bad
he’s trying tho!!!
keeps dying. like every two minutes you see “jake_awesome2002 was blown up by a creeper”
he does not know how to change his gamertag so ur just stuck playing with jake_awesome2002
he starts getting the hang of it and immediately thinks he’s cracked at the game (he’s not)
so he disappears from you out of nowhere and so you try to help him :
“jake where are you” … “jake” … “jake sim where the fuck are you” …………. “i don’t know”
(cue “jake_awesome2002 fell out of the world”)
“JAKE HOW DID YOU FALL OUT OF THE WORLD” “I DONT KNOW”
he respawns and like sulks for three minutes before leaving and collecting dirt(?) for some reason
coincidentally you keep finding dirt blocks placed throughout your base afterwards! how silly of him!
sunghoon ; 성훈
he was so ready to show u how good he is
he’s not very good. but at least he’s better than jake!
he somehow is always in a cave or some sort of dangerous location
like say u found a village and you’re like “sunghoon come raid this village with me!”
meanwhile he’s trying not to die because of a pillager outpost
somehow he doesn’t?
he’ll go and do stuff like that or spend days in the nether and survive but his weakness is witches
like he doesn’t scream UNLESS there is a witch
and if you’re nearby ? he will 100% sacrifice you to the witch so that he can survive
womp womp
he actually sacrifices you quite a bit because he has like 36 levels
he thinks he’s funny when he does it too
sunoo ; 선우
honestly prefers to play in creative mode (me too sunoo)
but when you were like “let’s play in survival for once” he’s like “fiiiiiiiiinneeeeeuhhhh” (very dramatic about it)
he immediately builds a forever base when you spawn in
makes you do all the mining and stuff
he will tag along! but he won’t do shit
he’s the interior designer. he’s got bigger and better things to do
he only redeems himself when you go into the base and find your minecraft beds right next to each other
besides holding the house down, he also has an extremely high scale and successful farming system
so if you ever check in his chests, 100% you will find like 20 stacks of wood, stacks of wheat, of carrots, of beets, etc.
may be a homebody in minecraft but at least he’s fun to play with !!!! 10/10 would recommend to a friend
jungwon ; 정원
the miner
like you’re trying to get along with your day until jungwon stops and drops into the smallest cave ever
“what are u doing” “wait y/n we might need this copper” “jungwon don’t u already have like three stacks of copper” “yeah but we might need it”
lots of time spent mining
u eat your words tho when he is decked out in diamond armor from almost the get-go
when you guys build a base it HAS to have a little mine under the house (little as in huge)
somehow has like ten dogs?
“this one is maeumi, this one is maeumi’s friend, this once can be gaeul… maybe this one can be layla? oh! and this one is maeumi’s other friend. this one is bisco. this one is yours but you don’t get to name it. i will name it for you.”
they would be cats if it was really up to you but you’ll live
also refuses to elaborate on this thing he does
he makes tons and tons of signs and just places them around the base
some of them make sense and others just don’t at all
has a 2x2 fenced in area and the sign outside of it says “jail”
has anyone ever been sent to jail there? no. but as jungwon says “just in case”
riki ; 니키
possibly the worst yet most fun person to play with
at first you’re like “let’s play together” and he’s like “yeah sure whatever” but little do u know he has every plan in the world to turn the game into warfare
it’s even worse if you are playing on a realm rather than just a server
he abandons you from the get-go and immediately runs away and you can’t catch him so he builds a base far away from you
the base is in fact a dirt house
but it’s minecraft who said he had to be an architect
yes he abandoned you and is regularly attacking you at any given chance but he still keeps his tabs on where you are
walks all over your farm and kills your livestock
leaves signs saying “riki was here” “get rikrolled”
since he keeps tabs on you, u have to be very cautious of what you leave in your chests
he will steal anything. just for fun
threatens to blow up everything because he just wants to
little does he know if he wants warfare ur gonna give him warfare
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a/n : this is random but i played mc like two days ago and i thought this could be a silly idea
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sagesolsticewrites · 4 months
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hiya! ik it might be late for v-day prompts but could i request a buck x female reader with the prompts 'boo boo kiss' and 'pet names'? where he's gone on a mission all day and she's a base nurse? maybe he comes back all scraped up and a little delulu
thanks so much! xx
not too late at all, Nonnie! Thank you so much for requesting, I’ve been having so much fun with these Masters of the Air requests! (Reminder that requests are open! Feel free to check out some of my favorite prompt lists in my pinned post, or check the tag “Sage’s Valentines” for some special Valentine’s Day prompts <3)
Obligatory disclaimer that I know absolutely nothing about head wounds nor how they were dealt with during WW2, we are running purely on vibes here 😇
Kiss It Better? 💋
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Having been a base nurse at Thorpe Abbots for nearly three months now, you were no stranger to flirtatious soldiers. They would wander in between missions — usually to visit a friend on the mend in sickbay — and it became routine for them to try out one or two pickup lines on you. Sometimes they made you blush, but you knew it was all just a bit of fun for them. Had to get their entertainment somewhere, you supposed.
Major Gale Cleven, or “Buck” as everyone called him… he was different, though. The first time he’d come in to visit an injured comrade, you’d stood there frozen for at least a full ten seconds before coming back to yourself and leading him over to his friend.
It wasn’t just that he was handsome — though he absolutely was. It was the way he made real conversation with you in the rare moments where you didn’t have any pressing responsibilities, rather than a few silly lines to turn you red. He was… kind, and before too long you began to consider him a friend.
A friend you had a hopeless crush on, but a friend nonetheless.
Your fellow nurses, and even a few of the 100th Bomb Group took notice, and would quietly tease you whenever Buck came by — though he never seemed to notice how you blushed and swatted away the people who’d give you knowing smiles as they walked by.
Every time he went out on a mission, you held your breath, and thanked your lucky stars each time he wasn’t one of the soldiers being rushed to the sickbay upon their return.
Until he was.
You were in the middle of tending to poor Lt. Crosby after yet another bout of airsickness when Buck was rushed in. You froze, icy veins of fear gripping your heart, but quickly shook it off and went back to your current patient, mentally scolding yourself.
But Harry had noticed how the blood had drained from your face, and gently placed a hand over yours, stopping you.
“Go take care of him,” he smiled, nodding over to where Buck was being transferred to a bed, “I’ll be fine. Nothin’ I haven’t dealt with before.”
You eventually nodded, asking one of your fellow nurses to take over for you despite Harry’s protests that he was “perfectly fine, honest!” and made your way over to Buck’s cot in the corner of the room.
As you drew closer, you winced at the large bump that was clear on his temple, accompanied by various scrapes and bruises. According to the people that brought him in, the landing had been rougher than usual, and loose items in the plane had flown everywhere, leaving more than one soldier with bumps and bruises, but Buck seemed to have gotten the worst of it.
You attempted to remain professional, cataloging each injury and mentally checking off the supplies you’d need. Something seemed… off about Buck, though. Rather than a pained wince or even a brave attempt at his usual smile, Buck’s face transformed into a wide, uncharacteristic grin as you stood at his bedside.
“Hey,” he said in a dazed voice, your name sliding off his tongue with an ease that surprised you, given that he always called you by your last name and made sure to use the title of “Nurse” that you’d earned in wartime.
You nearly blushed at the charming, boyish expression on his face, wincing only slightly at the way the scrapes scattered across his face stretched with his smile, but remained as professional as you could, tending to his wounds with care and speed that spoke to your experience.
Buck rambled the entire time — this may have been the most you’d heard him speak since you met, and you soaked in every word. He rambled on about what happened in the air on this most recent mission, about his friends & family back home, about life in Wyoming.
“Got any pretty girls waiting for you back there?” You blurted out, fiddling with the bandages on his forehead and firmly avoiding eye contact.
“None as pretty as you, darlin’” Came his smooth reply, and good lord if hearing him call you that in that soft Southern drawl didn’t make you weak in the knees.
“Oh, hush, Major.” You bit your lip in an attempt to hide the smile fighting its way to your face, retreating back into the safety of professionalism.
“How are you feeling now? Those scrapes should heal up in no time, but you might have to hold off flying until that head wound clears up—”
“Might heal up faster if you kiss it better,” he grinned, dazed blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
Heat flooded your face, and your mind went entirely blank.
Several subtle glances around the room confirmed that your fellow nurses were focused on their own patients. Not a single eye was on you and Buck in the corner.
Taking a moment to gather your courage, you steeled yourself before pressing your lips to Buck’s temple for the merest moment. You were sure your cheeks were nearly as red as your lipstick as you pulled away, checking again to make sure no one saw— the teasing from your colleagues would surely be merciless if they knew.
“Thank you, sweetheart. I can feel myself gettin’ better already,” Buck drawled with that same boyish grin, his fingertips resting over yours at the edge of the bed.
You jerked away, suddenly even more aware of the potential eyes on you.
“You should heal up just fine, Major. The docs will just need to run a couple tests before you’re clear to fly again.” You said before excusing yourself.
If only you hadn’t been in such a rush to get away.
You would’ve remembered to wipe off the bright red lipstick mark lingering on Buck’s forehead.
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(Sorry, Nonnie 😇 I saw the opportunity for a cliffhanger here and I couldn’t resist… What could possibly happen next? 👀)
Read Part 2 here!
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everlastlady · 7 months
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Bloody Legend: Mammon X Reader 4
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✰- Author's Note: Hello! I'm really glad that you guys are enjoying this silly little story. Also I made a yandere Mammon bot on character ai so if you want the link to that let me know. Also the Juggling Is Cool song is stuck in my head 😭 Anyway remember to eat a meal or a snack, drink some water, get some fresh air, take your medicine, and remember that you are loved. If you loved this story remember to comment, click or tap that heart button, reblog with tags, and blaze if you can. Always remember to support your local writers. ♡♡♡
✰- Story Parts: Part One | Part Two | Part Three
✰- Story Contains: Mammon, Striker, Verosika,Asmodeus, & Rosemary (oc), Spoiled Reader, Romantic Dinner, Shopping Spree, Mentions Of Reader's past, Mentions Of Mammon's Past, & Cuddling.
✰- Posted: 11/2/2023
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" Alright, (Y/N) is looking much better just make sure that they take those vitamins every day and are properly eating. Some fresh air should help. I know they are your mascot but a break from the spotlight should help. A lot of people end up dying from overworking themselves especially celebrities. " Rosemary said. Looking back at your door and at Mammon who had been looking upset because he knew it was his fault that you were sick. " I understand thanks doc, I'll be sure to send you your payment. " Mammon said. " Good, I can use it for a romantic dinner for me and my boyfriend. But remember no work for (Y/N). " Rosemary wagged her finger at Mammon and before the plant demon woman could walk away, Mammon thought about what she said about a romantic dinner with her partner, maybe Mammon could set up a romantic dinner with you. " Doc, wait! " Mammon snapped his finger and with green smoke along with a honk appeared in front of, Rosemary who coughed and waved away the smoke. " Yes, your lordship? " She asked. " How would you go about asking someone on a romantic dinner? " Mammon asked using one of his arms to rub his chin. Rosemary smirked and adjusted her glasses. " Why? You got someone you wanna ask out? " Rosemary snickers as Mammon didn't want to say who. " Just answer the question and I'll pay you twice the amount I owe! " He said looking desperate for an answer. " Calm down, just simply ask the person you don't need to do something grand gesture to ask them out for dinner. " Rosemary said while closing her eyes and then opening them. " Listen my boyfriend is a bouncer at Ozzie's when I asked him out for dinner, I just asked him and we had a good time. " Rosemary smiled and blushed. " It was nice, just the two of us. I didn't do anything grand so just go for it. Anyway I have to go I hope (Y/N) feels better. And whoever you ask on that date has fun. Maybe ask Asmodeus for advice. " Rosemary walked towards the elevator before vanishing.
Asmodeus? Asmodeus!? There was no way he would ever ask Asmodeus for love advice especially after what happened at the clown off. Mammon would rather give an orphanage half a grand before going to Asmodeus for love advice. He would just take Rosemary's simple advice. Mammon didn't want to take you to a restaurant. He could set up dinner here in the dining room. He could have the cooks make up delicious meals and the two of you could talk, just enjoy each other company. But he didn't want this to seem like a date or that he had feelings for you. Even though he did, he wanted you to feel the same way; so he decided to use this dinner to impress you. Mammon walked towards your room and opened the door. He saw that you weren't in bed but could hear singing coming from the bathroom while water was running. Whether you weren't a good or bad singer. Mammon always loved hearing you sing. It made his heart flutter your singing was something he first heard when you would change in your dressing room. Mammon waited for you to stepped out the bathroom, once you did you we wearing an oversized green sweater that had Mammon's M on it and some black stretch pants. You almost jumped seeing him. " Mammon, sir, uh hi did you need something? " You asked. Mammon shook his head and walked towards you. " You and me are having dinner tonight, to talk and forget about work. So where something nice! " Mammon pinched your cheek. " I'll be back soon, I have a meeting with Lucifer, I can't wait to see my old friend; remember to take your vitamins! " Mammon honked and vanished.
You stood there for a moment thinking about what Mammon had said. Dinner with him tonight? You smiled softly; that actually sounds nice - You decided to call up Verosika and ask if she wanted to go shopping with you. To which the succubus agreed. Last time the shopping was cancelled due to you getting sick. But you were feeling better. You decided that you would buy a beautiful outfit for this dinner with Mammon, so when walking outside you saw Verosika's limo. Her driver opened the door. Getting inside you not only saw Verosika but Striker who was grinning at you. " Well howdy (Y/N), Mammon knew that you would be shopping so he called me up to protect you as your new bodyguard, thanks for giving him, my card. Sorry about what happened to your old bodyguards, may they rest in peace. " Striker said while bringing his hat to his chest. Trying his hardest not to laugh. " Thanks. " You smiled and sat down in between him and Verosika. " Are you feeling better (Y/N)? " Verosika asked as the limo drove down the streets of Greed. You nodded your head. " Much better, Mammon even asked to have dinner with me tonight, to wear something nice. " You said while looking down at your phone. You didn't notice that Verosika and Striker had exchanged looks of disgust. Verosika cleared her throat. " Mammon hasn't been working you or anything else? " She asked. " No, he's been making me rest a lot and having people bring me medicine, water, tea, and food. Sometimes I catch him checking up on me or that the old blankets have been taking off my bed and replaced with new ones, it's weird how he's been acting but it's also nice. " You sighed softly with a smile.
Both Verosika and Striker were shocked about this. When the limo finally stopped at the mall. You got out, Verosika looked at Striker. " So now he's concerned about their well-being? " Verosika said. " I'm sure he's only concerned because if they stay sick or die, he'll use money. Once they are 100% better he'll make them over again like cattle. " Striker grumbled and got out of the car. Striker made sure to keep close to you and Verosika so that no crazy fans run up to you. You looked down at the green credit card that Mammon had gifted to you a while back. Mammon aleatory spoiled you because he always wanted you to look nice and because he wanted you to feel like you could rely on him. You went all your favorite shops while sipping on the strawberry smoothie that Verosika bought for you. The two of you hadn't noticed that Striker killed fifteen people that were creeping up on you and Verosika, either trying to kill you guys or kidnap. Striker pulled out a new gun and saw how you tried on different green or white outfits. You soon came out wearing a white outfit mixed with some pastel green. " What do you guys think? " You asked while twirling. Verosika almost dropped her smoothie as she was blushing and Striker without looking shot another creep but his eyes stayed on you as he also blushed. The two of them didn't say anything which made you frown. " It's not good? " You looked down.
Verosika shook her head quickly and stood up. " No no, you look beautiful sweetheart, I'm sure Mammon will think you look sexy! " Verosika said looking at you while blushing. " And if he doesn't then he's blind. " Striker said. " Because you look absolutely stunning. " Striker said. Both their comments made you blush. You decided that you would buy the outfit, you were having fun with Verosika and Striker. The three of you continued to shop. Verosika had bought you pink rose pendant and Striker had bought you a cowboy hat since you kept taking his and wearing it. " (Y/N) you should hit up one my parties whenever Mammon doesn't have you underneath his thumb. " Verosika said leaving the mall with you. Letting out a small laughter. " That would be fun, I always see your parties on Voxtagram. " You said always wanting to attend parties. But you really didn't because Mammon had you attend other parties. " Great! My birthday is coming up, I'll be sure to send you an invite in the mail and just in case Mammon doesn't let you, I'll see what strings I can pull. " Verosika held your hand getting into the limo as Striker followed behind. " Wait till you see the bull riding, I always stay on the longest. " Striker smirked. " Don't forget, I'm also from Wrath, I did a lot of bull riding on my grandparents farm when I was sixteen. " You smirked as Striker laughed. " Alright, darlin', we'll see~ " Striker leaned back. The limo dropped you back off at Mammon's palace; you wave and say your goodbyes to Verosika and Striker. Your ears felt hot thinking about the fun shopping spree you had with Striker and Verosika.
Making it back inside the palace. Mammon still wasn't back from his meeting with Lucifer. But you could smell something delicious from the kitchen. One of the servants told you that you weren't allowed in the kitchen because dinner was going to be surprised. So you went to your room and put away everything you bought. The necklace that Verosika bought you, went in your jewelry box and you hung up the hat that Striker bought you. You hoped that you could go to Verosika's party. You really enjoyed their company. You kept out the outfit that you would wear to dinner with Mammon. Feeling tired you decided to take a nap so that you would feel more energized. You laid down on the bed and fell asleep. Meanwhile at the meeting Mammon had to ignore Asmodeus as Lucifer talked about the process of Hell. He thought about the dinner date he had with you. After the meeting ended Mammon stood up ready to leave only for Asmodeus to say something. " Already replaced Fizzarolli? " Asmodeus said still holding that same look of angry at Mammon. " Yeah, what about it? You have time to spend with him, I found someone better than him, someone who brings me more money than he ever did. " Mammon said glaring at Asmodeus, hoping that he wouldn't say anything harsh about you Beelzebub and Lucifer watched as if this was a drama show. " No, you found someone else to exploit, and when they get tired of your bullshit; they'll leave you too. " Asmodeus walked off humming, the humming irritated Mammon because Asmodeus was humming the song that Fizzarolli sung at the clown pageant.
Mammon sat in the limo sneering, he was upset at what Asmodeus said. He wasn't exploiting you, he was helping you. He cared about you! Asmodeus doesn't know what he's talking about. Mammon took a deep breath, he should be happy, excited because tonight he was going have a lovely dinner date with you. When he reached the palace. He already had the servants help him get ready and look all handsome just for you. The dark green tux with the gold that he had tailored so that he could look good for this night. Mammon asked the servants to help you get ready and meet him in the dining room. The servants woke you up and helped you get ready. You felt a pit of nervousness sitting in your stomach. You weren't the only one feeling this way so did Mammon. He would mess with the items on the table. Having the servants bring in better flowers or change out the candles. Even had some of the dishes switched out. He even requested fresh strawberries in the bowl. Once you walked in Mammon was blown away. You looked absolutely majestic. Mammon was speechless. " (Y/N) love, you look absolutely fucking beautiful! " Mammon stood up and pulled out your chair. " Sit sit. " He pushed in your chair once you sat down. And then appeared in his own seat.
The dinner with Mammon was full of laughter as he talked about his past. " When I first met Asmodeus, I hated him on day one. He thought he was better because he was the sin of lust. Always talking about how more people have that sin. Which is a big fucking lie. Bee, she's alright I know that me and her would always get high and eat some good shit. We still do, Luci is a real good friend of mine, I do believe I'm his favorite. I remember when I first became a sin of greed. Seeing what people will do for money and power. Was chaos a circus of chaos then when the humans started dying and finding themselves in the greed ring. They still hadn't changed their ways. " Mammon took a bite of his chicken. " News team always ask us sins if we will get a queen like Lucifer has his gal Lilith, or will we ever get a partner like how Bee has that hellhound, I forgot his name. Now that Asmodeus admitted to loving Fizzarolli. " Mammon said annoyed. " People assume that I'm next. " Mammon looked at you. " Have you ever thought about dating or ever getting married one day (Y/N)? " Mammon asked while drinking some of the golden liquid from the glass. " I'm not sure, I'm always busy with the career you gave me that I never consider marriage or dating, but eventually one day I would like it. " You smiled enjoying the meal in front of you. Mammon looked at you for a second. " Well, you got all this status and fame. That anyone would die to date you, but don't let people with you for that though; because you are a bloody legend a beautiful, smart, funny, and... Kind legend. " Mammon clears his throat. " This is boring! Wanna go watch a movie? " Mammon asked and stood up.
You smile. " Sure. " You stood up taking the bowl of strawberries with you. As you followed Mammon into the living room; sitting down on the couch. Mammon put on a nice comedy movie, a nice romantic comedy; you sat down next to him eating the strawberries from the bowl. Mammon kept looking at you from the corner of his eyes. Seeing how focused you were on the movie. He was trying to figure out how to cuddle you. He didn't want to make things awkward or weird. But his eyes widened when he felt you lean against him. He looked down to see that you looked tired. He remembered what Rosemary had said, just go for it. So Mammon pulled you closer and cuddled with you on the couch. This felt like a dream, this felt nice. Mammon's heart patters, against his chest, palms sweaty, and head dizzy. You eventually fell asleep cuddling Mammon, who watched the movie but kept you close. Once the movie was over; he picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, laying you in bed, he looked down at you. Before walking away, you grabbed his hand. " Please stay. " Mammon turned around seeing you look at him while holding his hand.
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Mammon's Bloody Legends Taglist:
@g0dwat3r
@stinkykittypet
@lucasisstupid
@pink-puff-bird
@universallyweaselwobblermuffin
@lizzywizzyeatsart
@queenfishie
@a-library-of-old
If you weren't tag its because when try to tag it says " No Blogs Found " which means you have to turn on tags or Tumblr isn't letting me tag ya. Anyway if you want to be added or removed from the Taglist let me know
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m00nsbaby · 8 months
Note
BABES HEAR ME OUT- Ever heard of the song "the moon will sing" by the crane wives?
I was wondering if I could get "I loved you like the sun; with no light of my own, I shine only with the light you gave me"? With the moonboys 🥺💗
I CRIED???? Y'ALL NEED TO STOP SENDING ME SONGS THAT SOUND LIKE THE BABIES BECAUSE I CRY LIKE AN IDIOTLKSDJFKLG
I LOVED THIS ONE, HERE WE GO
The moon will sing.
Moon system x reader.
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Tags & warnings. A bit of angst (you know me), fluff and some self steem problems.
Word count. 2.4k
Summary.
I loved you like the sun; with no light of my own, I shine only with the light you gave me.
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Over time, you came to understand that this couldn't be, at least not in a romantic sense, but you had no problem accepting that the four of you worked incredibly well as best friends.
You loved them, and there was no greater reward than seeing how your love had been a significant support in their lives. Sometimes, there's nothing like watching the love of your life grow. However, no matter how hard you worked, there was something they still couldn't shake.
But the silver lining was that many times, they just needed a little reassurance.
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In Steven's case, it was always his memory.
As it turns out, Steven, for logical reasons, didn't remember much of his life, and he never really thought about it until now when he was in this strange balance with Marc and Jake. Even though the three of them stood thinking, "Hey, this is better than how I felt in the past," there were things in his head that they never expressed because sometimes comfort gives you a false sense that you shouldn't complain about your current situation.
That you should be grateful.
And Steven Grant was thankful for many things. He was grateful for Marc and Jake, grateful for you, grateful for his life, and even grateful for Gus's new friend. So when throughout the day he heard or saw something that triggered a false deja vu, he suppressed the urge to cry, knowing that it was probably a memory of Marc that he wasn't identifying correctly.
Much of his life was spent questioning what had been real and what was a product of his imagination.
"Listen, listen," you whispered, looking at him intently.
Both of you were sitting on his carpet right in front of the sofa, your backs against the couch and your shoulders touching.
You were introducing Steven to the magic of Green Day, and he was the only one who could tolerate your habit of pausing every song to say, 'this is the best part,' in a short 3-minute period.
Well, this one was really the best part. The build-up during the 'Til then I walk alone' always gave you shivers, and it did the same for him, but for a completely different reason.
It was silly to think that a young Marc Spector, unsupervised and burdened with a thousand problems to deal with, didn't take advantage of every opportunity to distract himself in any way he could, like at parties.
In 2004, at just 16 years old, "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" was one of those things that made you say, "Woah, this is definitely the best thing humanity has ever created." It was at one of those ridiculous parties that Billie Joe Armstrong figuratively opened his eyes.
Suddenly, Steven wasn't with you anymore. He was on an uncomfortable couch surrounded by cigarette smoke, and the taste of beer lingered in his mouth. He could deal with the memory, but not with the flood of feelings that hit him like a runaway truck. The feeling of being a lost child, without parents, without friends, without his brother, and without any desire, fighting not to sink as the days went by.
Sometimes, it was a good reminder of how much of an anchor he was for Marc.
He ripped out his earpiece before the song could finish, and he looked at you with fear. You furrowed your brow, confused but not as detached from the situation as you had been in the past. It wasn't the first time.
"Steven? Are you okay?" you whispered, putting your phone aside to look at him.
"Yeah, yeah, I…," he stammered, closing his eyes for a few seconds just to catch his breath. "It was a… It's nothing."
You placed your hand on his cheek to seek his gaze, and he immediately melted at your touch, his head tilting toward your hand like a puppy seeking affection.
"What happened?"
"I… I remembered."
Oh, so that was it.
You nodded slowly, and your arms slid around his shoulders, he hugged you by the waist to pull you closer to his body. You learned with time that Steven's love language was physical touch.
You felt him squeeze harder with his arms, and his forehead rested on your shoulder.
"It's okay if you want to cry," you knew he was holding back.
Like clockwork, you felt your T-shirt getting wet from his tears.
"I can't anymore," he whispered with difficulty, his body experiencing small spasms from crying. "I can't anymore, I don't know what's… I don't know," he stammered, and you nodded slowly.
"I understand." The position was uncomfortable, but you weren't willing to let go. "I understand, Steven."
"I don't know what's real, I don't know." He took a deep breath. "I was at… at some kind of party," he tried to laugh at his silly memory while sniffing.
"And were they listening to Green Day? It sounds like fun," you joked back with a slight smile, your fingers combing his curls to your liking. "Marc definitely had a Green Day phase."
You managed to make him laugh, even with his difficulty in breathing.
"Maybe," you whispered, trying to get his attention again. "We can talk to him; he'll help you remember."
"He doesn't like to talk about it."
You moved away just enough to look him in the face. Your hands traveled from his shoulders to his cheeks, which you squeezed with your fingers while giving him a small smile.
"He'll understand," you whispered, the tip of your nose brushing against his. Finally, you saw him smile back.
"Do you think so?"
"I do," you confirmed, wrinkling your nose at him affectionately.
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For Marc, it all depended on embracing his inner child, both literally and symbolically, the one who was always scared and never knew how to express it.
The sound of one of his crystal glasses shattering made you look up from the sofa. He was looking at the floor in annoyance, and within seconds, you heard a second crash, him hitting the nearest wall.
"Shit!" he exclaimed loudly. You sighed heavily and got up to go to the kitchen.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I… yeah," he said, looking at his hand, which had a cut on the palm. You could hear his heavy breathing, his chest rising and falling in front of your eyes.
"Calm down."
"I am calm," he replied immediately, looking at the juice stain on the floor.
"Marc, it's okay." The glass crunched under your shoe, and you almost gave him a nervous tic. You were making an even bigger mess; you were going to get him in trouble.
But with whom?
Who was going to punish him?
"Look at that." Your voice was soft, and he found it ridiculous how your expression wrinkled in concern when you noticed the cut on his hand.
He'd been impaled once; this was nothing.
"It doesn't hurt."
You ignored him, placing your hand under his to bring it closer to your face. Your other hand removed the tiny shard of glass stuck in his skin, and he hissed; it hurt a little, just a little.
Very little.
"Come on, let me…" You whispered, bringing his hand with you. This time, his shoes completed the mess beneath both of you. You turned on the sink and held his hand under the water.
He stayed still, obedient to you. He could feel the rhythm of his heart slowing down.
He watched as you put soap in his palm and then rubbed it with yours as if he were washing his hands himself. It stung, but he paid little attention when you were so close. The genuine concern you felt for him made Marc's stomach turn; this hadn't happened to him before.
The blood stopped flowing within seconds; it wasn't anything serious, just as he had thought.
"Do you think you need a band-aid?"
He thought you were teasing him until he saw you smile with your characteristic tenderness. He slowly shook his head, not knowing what to say.
His gaze dropped to the floor, and you did the same.
"Oh, that."
"Take off your shoes." He moved to the dry part of the floor, doing as he had asked you to do. His tone was so gentle that your smile unconsciously grew on your face.
This was the point you wanted to reach with him.
"Let me pick up the glass, okay? Get a towel to dry this."
And together, as if they were on a children's show, you cleaned up the mess Marc had caused, without raising your voices or arguing.
"Do you want to choose the movie for tonight?" You gave him a little nudge with your shoulder as both of you finished washing your hands, and he pushed you back in the same playful manner.
"I thought that was a given." It's amazing how quickly you can forget your mistakes when no one scares you for making them.
You were willing to stay as long as it took for Marc to understand that accidents were just that—accidents. If only someone had told him that many years ago.
The rest of the night passed as if nothing had happened. He hugged your shoulders, and you ate popcorn from the bowl resting on his stomach. Marc chose the worst action movie you had ever seen, but you enjoyed his silly comments as well as his laughter when the effects were terrible.
A broken glass wasn't the end of the world; it never was.
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Topics with Jake were always deeper, both literally and symbolically; the conversations you had about the existence of human beings always seemed like a philosophy class.
Because unfortunately, he still had trouble feeling like a person with autonomy, not just an extension of Marc and Steven's needs.
He wasn't just a tool.
"I don't understand why they need another room." He looked around with a furrowed brow, still not sure how you managed to get rid of all the clutter in that room.
It was completely empty, except for an old desk that Steven refused to get rid of. It was the perfect space.
"For you."
"Huh?" He looked at you as if you were crazy.
"For you. I talked to Steven and Marc, and they both agree that you deserve to have a space for yourself that isn't your car."
He rolled his eyes.
"I don't spend that much time in my car."
"Steven says you like the car more than him."
He thought about it for a moment.
"Well, that's true."
This time, you rolled your eyes.
"But…" He continued. "It's not necessary. I'm sure Steven's books would make better use of the space. Why do I need a room?"
"For listening to music? Reading? Watching those dramatic afternoon novelas? Watching pornogr…”
"Fine! I get it!" He wasn't thrilled with the idea. You could see it as he continued to look around the room, not sure if he was planning something or simply disdainful of the idea.
"Do you like it?"
"No."
He was the most difficult person you knew; that wasn't a surprise. But he gradually warmed up to the idea, especially when you brought him two different posters, each with a completely different painting printed on them.
Café Terrace at Night by Vincent Van Gogh.
Vs.
Las Meninas by Diego Velazquez.
It took him hours to decide; every now and then, he would stop to look at the paintings and examine every detail.
"Did you know…" He caught your attention as you organized some books on the desk, new books he had chosen. "Van Gogh didn't sign this painting?" He pointed at the poster, and you looked up to analyze it as if you were going to refute it. "Historians know it's his because he mentioned it in letters before."
Well, that was something you didn't know.
Steven probably said he knew it from the headspace.
"I had no idea."
"I think I'll go with that one."
"Then that's the one."
And so began the extensive collection of meaningless decorations on the walls of Jake's new room. He had a thousand photos with no order, pictures of Marc and Steven (anyone who walked into the room would think he just had very high self-esteem), pictures of you, cats he saw on the street, his car or cars he thought were cool but would never be his.
He had photos of the moon and Queen posters. Papers that made him look like one of those hoarders from the reality shows you watched with Steven, because when he realized he could find a bit of his reality in the smallest things, he didn't stop.
A parking meter ticket, some from the corner convenience store where he bought spicy potato chips that painted his fingers red, the wrapper from one of his favorite candies, some tickets from different movies at the cinema, that note you left on the passenger seat wishing him a good day.
The collection was so extensive that you'd probably never finish listing it.
Oh, he also had a shopping list from Steven.
He never thanked you out loud, but the fact that he started using the space was enough for you. Ah, and the way he lifted you in his arms to make you laugh.
"Jake! No, no, no!" Your legs were wrapped around his hips, your fingers gripping his shoulders.
"You're amazing, you know that, cariño?"
"Why?"
"Just because you are." He kissed your entire face, oh, never the lips; he didn't cross that boundary even though the temptation was constant, especially when your huge eyes fixed on him in this way, your forehead resting against his.
"Just because you are." He repeated with the same smile.
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The truth was, neither Steven, nor Marc, nor Jake had much in mind about what their life was like before you, and that's why they were afraid to think about what it would be like without you in it.
Maybe that was why they were so afraid to take that extra step, why they enjoyed your love the way they did, without giving you the exchange you deserved.
What if it didn't work out? Could they live with the memory of how well you had treated them?
What were they before you?
And what would they be if you weren't there?
None of them wanted to imagine it.
So every night, Steven held you tighter, praying that you would never realize that you deserved more than this, more than fixing someone broken; Marc told you stories you had heard before, as a way to let you know how much he cared, how confident he was that if someone wouldn't judge him, it was you; and Jake kept buying your favorite chocolates as if that would be enough to keep you, oh, and sometimes he kept the wrappers.
If you ever decided to leave, those would be proof that you were once with them.
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Mk's tag list :)@ninebluehearts @icreatedthisat317am @onefinnedwonder-fm @shousha133
this one wasn't that bad, right?
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francesderwent · 4 months
Note
my brain is fried i'm so overtired I've cried spontaneously at least once a day for the past three days will you please help a girl out with a soft cozy wholesome movie recc please and thank you
I’m so sorry my dear!! I dug to the depths of a bunch of old tag games and my film tag and this is what I came up with!
when I’m strung out I tend to gravitate to movies that will make me happy-cry so this list will at moments tend in that direction. I tried to sort by what was available to stream now, and the sub-lists are in no particular order
if you have amazon prime (the basic package):
Penelope (2006). highly recommend, a funny little modern fairy tale about a lonely young girl searching for a way to break her curse. this one heals something in my heart
Stardust. also highly recommend! a chaotic fairy tale about true love and what a person would do for it.
Street Gang. the Sesame Street documentary. sometimes people are good and they’re trying to make the world a better place and they’re doing it with their friends.
How To Train Your Dragon. it’s a perfectly executed film and the score and animation is gorgeous. (also available on netflix)
if you have netflix:
Feel the Beat. a dance flick about a seemingly cold-hearted ambitious young woman becoming a dance teacher in her hometown
To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. so so so rewatchable.
She’s the Man. the funniest movie on this list and possibly of all time. I have never shown this movie to a person who didn’t end up loving it. it’s Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night at boarding school as a soccer movie
if you have tubi?? you might not need a membership I don’t know how tubi works??
The Music Man. some of the best costumes and choreography my favorite age of movie musicals had to offer. a con man comes to a small Iowa town and starts to want to believe in the beautiful lie he’s selling.
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. this movie was written by Roald Dahl and it is buck wild. widowed inventor and his two children buy a broken down racing car and?? hijinks and musical numbers ensue
if you have disney plus:
Princess Diaries (1&2). we know them, we love them.
Sky High. if you haven’t seen this, I highly recommend it because it is silly fun but it understands the genre it’s playing with.
Newsies (1992). scrappy newsboys form a union, sing songs, punch each other, ???, profit
Holes. the single best adapted book to film ever? the cast commentary is also hilarious
Rodgers and Hammerstein Cinderella (1997). absolutely delightful. Whitney Houston as the godmother! Jason Alexander as the butler! Brandy as Cinderella! Bernadette Peters as the stepmother!
if you feel up for a trip to the library, things to look for:
The Hundred Foot Journey. I only saw this one once but it’s about a family who opens up an Indian restaurant across from a Michelin-starred French restaurant and it’s gorgeous
A League of Their Own (1992). sisters! best friends! married women and their disreputable drunk coach friends!
The Secret Garden (1993). highly recommend! this one fixes me down to my bones.
This Beautiful Fantastic. also highly recommend! a woman who’s afraid of the world falls in love with it.
Secondhand Lions. also highly recommend!! a boy gets dropped off with his great-uncles for the summer, hears possibly made-up stories of their wild and adventurous youth
August Rush. a young musical prodigy searches for his parents.
Sense and Sensibility (1995). if you need Austen energy, this is the one.
Cinderella (2015). this movie is so gentle and so lovely.
Little Women (1994). life is gonna be hard and sad but it’s gonna be beautiful and the love will endure!!!
I hope this helps and I hope you feel better! ❤️❤️
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veryace-ficrecs · 6 months
Text
Marineford fix-it fics
This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)
You Still Have Me by Rijus_Hope - Rated G
Ace is kneeling on the execution platform, ready to accept his fate. He wishes his father and crewmates hadn't come for him, but is glad that, at least, his older brother hasn't come to die for him as well. Or so he thought. Or: the Navy tries to execute Ace. Newly dubbed Emperor of the Sea Monkey D. Luffy shows the world why that was a mistake.
Retired doesn't mean weak by Dezace - Rated T
Gol D. Roger survived the illness that should have killed him, once again triumphing where he had no odds of winning. After Roger achieved his goal, he returned to the love of his life to live out his life with only calm days ahead. His son was born and doted on the boy, soon enough gaining two more sons in the coming years. He approved of their dreams and would not get in the way of them.
But he drew the line at executions.
The Marines better be prepared, because the Pirate King is coming, and he won't rest until his son was safe.
take these fists of mine (raise them one last time) by SkyGem - Rated G
Monkey D Garp is 76, and he's tired of giving up pieces of himself for the World Government. Monkey D Garp is 76, and his grandson is about to be executed. Monkey D Garp is 76, and his family is the one thing he will never give up without a fight.
The Sharp Knife Of A Short Life by Memories_of_the_Shadows - Rated G
Garp isn't the greatest parent in this world or any other by far, but he does try his best and he does love his boys.
Executing Family Reunions by RubyBlue2005 - Rated G
Executions are just less boring family meetups to the Monkey family.
You say there’s a monster in my past (but I don’t believe you) by Glaux_Bryonia - Rated G
The scheduled execution of the pirate Portgas D Ace, Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, did not go entirely according to plan… Or: what if Garp never told Ace he was Roger’s son?
All For One by missmungoe - Rated G
Some things never change. Except this time, one very important thing does.
the One Time Ace Turned Away by FMPtrumpets - Rated G
We all know Ace is well-known for never turning his back on a fight, but… what if Luffy managed to get him to walk away from Akainu at Marineford?
Emotional damage by Lerya - Rated M
Opening his eyes, Luffy found an oxygen mask over his mouth. What had happened that he needed that. He never needed something like that, Chopper was well aware that he would bounce back soon enough. Looking around now that his eyes were opened, he could see that he wasn’t lying in their infirmary. The lay out was different from theirs; from the way Chopper had decorated it.
The will to live is harder to keep than a will to die by Dezace - Rated T
Ace was chained down in Impel Down, waiting for his execution and death, knowing that nothing can change that. When Ace hears the news that Luffy was here and there for him, Ace couldn't sit still. Not anymore. Or: Ace decided that being the damsel in distress sucks and that if you wanted something done right, do it yourself.
there is thunder in our hearts by taizi - Rated T
He’s not close enough. He’s not going to make it. Even if he managed to shake off the soldiers in front of him and just threw his whole body at full-speed between Luffy and Akainu to take the blow, he wouldn’t get there fast enough. He doesn’t have enough time. He’s going to lose another brother, only this time it’s going to happen right in front of his eyes, from seven—five—three feet away. He’s ten years old again and learning what grief is. He’s ten years old and all that’s left of Sabo is the letter in his hand and a shared dream and the promise that Ace will look after their silly baby brother while he’s gone.  “DON’T TOUCH HIM!” Ace screams. It’s pure desperation. It’s the last human thing he’ll ever say if Luffy dies here. 
Whitebeard Pirates Guide to Gaslighting the World that Ace is Whitebeard's Biological Son by Thatoneanimequeen - Rated G
Ace being the brilliant genius that he is somehow convinces the Whitebeard pirates and others to get everyone to believe that he is Whitebeard's biological son.
walk the wire by Anonymous - Rated G
So they’re talking about the possibility that Whitebeard loses and Ace dies and Sabo can’t. There are locusts beneath his skin and a headache throbbing against his skull and a tick-tick-tick down his spine, a countdown, a warning, and he needs to go. “I can carry a black bag operation in Marineford,” he blurts, off topic, and the room blows up with noise. ///Sabo needs his memories, Ace needs saving, and Garp needs to rethink his life choices.
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three-dee-ess · 28 days
Text
three-dee-ess Frequently Asked Questions
How do you mod a 3DS?
just go here -> https://3ds.hacks.guide/
Will I get in trouble for modding my 3DS?
not really. Nintendo no longer officially supports the 3DS. they certainly don't approve of 3DS modding but it's not like they are going to take legal action against you personally. I'm not a lawyer though.
Will Nintendo ban me online?
Nintendo already shut down the servers, so effectively we are all banned- even if your 3DS isn't hacked.
Is hacking your 3DS illegal?
No, as long as it's your personal property, it's not illegal. It's not illegal to paint a 3DS, or throw it into a toilet, or eat it, and hacking is just another way of modifying the 3DS.
How do you identify 3DS's?
I look at them. I'll make a better guide for this later but pretty much every model of DS has a unique identifier that differentiates it from the others in a big way. (Example being the DSi's huge camera)
How do you get games for the 3DS?
hshop (AKA 3HS)
What is netpass?
It's streetpass but it uses the internet instead! Install it from universal updater, or from here.
How'd you make your banner/What's a miitomo?
I used photopea and Miitomo with the Kaeru patcher. Miitomo is an abandoned nintendo social media app where you could create a custom mii. The main feature is the ability to take photos of your mii in silly outfits and poses.
You forgot/mistagged X post (Or you missed a TW)!
oops plz send me an ask and ill fix it asap :3c
What are your pronouns?
she/her!
Whats the tagging system?
#asks <- asks
#3ds post <- 3ds posts
#ds post <- DS specific posts
#dsi post <- DSi specific posts
#3DS inspo <- DS showoff tag
#cfw <- post contains reference to custom firmware (hacking)
#my thoughts <- ill tag any posts with my opinions on stuff here so yall can search through :3c
#<- assist needed • basically I need help with whatever question is being posed in the previous tag! go through this tag if you are knowledgeable about Pokemon games in particular for the most part.
#<specific 3DS model + color> <- if i've identified a 3DS it'll be tagged with the color and then the model. (EX 'red n3DSxl')
Can I submit a 3DS/DS image?
yes please do!! like actually if you own a 3DS even a bad photo is perfectly fine.
What does :3c mean?
it's just a cat face with a little paw. I use it a lot for funzies.
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imrowanartist · 3 months
Text
A silly little thing, based on a thought I had that Price looks a lot younger without his boonie XD
Set in the Rosie AU
Tags: Established PriceGaz, humor, fluff
-
It’s almost noon by the time John picks up Kyle from the base at Credenhill. His partner is later than usual, due to some unforeseen bureaucracy after the training exercises they just finished over several days, but it doesn’t matter. After three days of his absence, John is simply happy to see him again.
Kyle throws his duffel bag in the boot of the car and John smiles at his rearview mirror as Rosie starts wriggling around in her car seat in the back as soon as she realizes that her dad has returned.
John watches as Kyle pulls open the side door first, greeting a laughing Rosie with a kiss on her cheek. After three years, it still manages to ignite a warm feeling in John’s gut whenever he sees Kyle so affectionate with their daughter.
“You’re back!” Rosie proudly states, and Kyle grins at her.
“Hello, Rosie-Bee, did you miss me?”
Rosie spreads her arms as wide as possible and John melts a little on the inside as she proclaims, “Thisss much!”
She’s been getting better with Kyle’s absences. The first time was a struggle for all of them, as both John and Kyle had trouble adjusting to the reversal of their roles after almost three years, and Rosie did not understand why her da was now home all the time and dad suddenly left. The tantrums she threw about missing Kyle were not fun for either of them or her.
They’ve begun to adjust to it, though. And John is starting to understand why Kyle often sounded just as exhausted as he would after a long op. Full-time caring for a toddler is no walk in the park, he has found.
John wouldn’t trade it for the world, though.
Kyle closes the side door again, and slides into the passenger seat next to John, greeting him with a soft brush of his hand to his thigh. They’re still in the base’s parking lot, and public displays of affection have never been their strong suit.
“Was she good?” Kyle asks, and John hums.
“She was,” he says, then turns around to look at their daughter, “weren’t you, Poppet?”
“I was good!” Rosie confirms with a nod, and they both laugh at the way her eyebrows draw together in a serious expression.
The drive home to Gloucester is uneventful. Kyle tells John about the training exercises and how he feels he might be ready to deploy with the 141 again soon. It’s still something that puts John’s stomach in a knot sometimes, but after six months of retirement, he is slowly getting used to the idea of not being in charge of the task force anymore. Soap makes a fine captain, John made damn sure of that before he left. Kyle will be in good hands.
“Can we go to the park?” Rosie suddenly pipes up from the back of the car, once they’re getting close to their apartment. She’s clearly tired of their adult conversation, and John looks at her in his mirror before glancing at Kyle.
They don’t have much more planned for today, and they’ve both talked about trying to spend as much time together as they can, whenever they’re both home.
John knows Rosie has picked up on this too, the clever girl. She knows she’s much more likely to get what she wants when one of her dads has just returned home.
“I need to pick up some packages at the post office,” Kyle says after a beat, “So we might as well?”
“Sure,” John agrees, and can’t help the fond smile as Rosie claps her hands together in excitement.
There’s a playground near their apartment, and the weather is nice enough. Rosie refuses to let go of Kyle’s hand as they walk there, but when she sees some of the familiar neighborhood kids, she raises her eyes to both of them to ask for their permission to go play along.
“Go ahead, Poppet,” John nods, and after some initial hesitance, Rosie skips over to the other kids. Though she’s gotten more comfortable interacting with them, John has noticed she still always makes sure that she can see either him or Kyle.
“You heading across the street?” he asks Kyle,
“Yeah, won’t be long. Soap said he sent some souvenirs from their last op.”
John frowns dubiously at him. “It better not be more bloody socks, we’ve got enough of those already.”
“Well, the way you keep losing Rosie’s-“ Kyle snorts and John grumbles something under his breath before adding, “Not my fault the fucking laundry machine keeps eating them,”
“Yeah, yeah, blame the machine, sir.” Kyle pats his arm, “I’ll be right back.”
John straightens his hat and makes his way to one of the empty benches scattered around the playground. He sinks down on it, nodding politely at some of the other parents around.
Rosie seems to have gotten wrapped up in some imaginary game with rules lost on John, but she’s having fun at least. It does him good to see her interacting with the other kids. He watches her play for a while, content to do so, and almost doesn’t notice it when someone else joins him on the bench.
When he looks up, he sees it’s an older woman, who gives him a kind smile. Pushing down his ingrained distrust of strangers, John opens his mouth to greet her, when he promptly gets interrupted by Rosie scampering her way back over to him.
“I found a rock,” she tells him excitedly, pulling at his hand to open it, “it’s for you!”
John lets her drop the completely ordinary rock in the palm of his hand, then smiles at her. “It’s beautiful, love.”
Rosie giggles at him, very happy with herself, and John caresses her curls for a moment as he thanks her. He tucks the rock in a pocket as she turns around and hops back to the sandbox.
“Your granddaughter is lovely,” the lady next to him speaks up, and John is about to express his gratitude for the compliment when her words register with him.
Of course it’s also the exact moment when Kyle re-appears, dropping some packages on the bench and John swears he has learned to apparate from Ghost. Clearly, he has overheard the old lady too, because as John starts sputtering, Kyle gives his most shit-eating grin before bursting into laughter.
It’s gotta be the fucking hat. Kyle has been telling him for ages that it makes him look older, but he didn’t want to believe it until now.
He drags the boonie off his head, not caring about how his hair looks underneath, and turns to the old lady with what he hopes is a polite expression.
“It’s my daughter, but thank you.” He tells her between clenched teeth.
Rosie has spotted Kyle’s return too, because she happily squeals “Dad!” then scrambles towards him and launches herself into his arms.
The old lady’s eyes flit between John, Kyle, and Rosie in confusion, as she’s now visibly trying to figure out the relationship between them.
“Oh, I’m sorry, dearie,” She laughs, though it’s obviously uncomfortable. Whether it’s because of her error in judgment regarding his age or something else is unclear to John. “You just looked…”
She trails off and John huffs, fiddling with his hat between his hands.
“Well, I wish you all a lovely day,” she says eventually, before getting up and making her tactical retreat toward another bench. John looks at the boonie again, then after a beat carefully folds it and puts it in his pocket.
“Not a word.” he hisses to Kyle, who innocently readjusts Rosie on his hip, still wearing that stupid grin on his face.
“Alright, Grandpa,” he chuckles, and John gives him a flat look that hopefully conveys how much this whole situation displeases him.
“Where’s Grandpa?” Rosie asks, craning her head as she’s confused as to what they’re referring to. John gets up and reaches for her, pleased as she lets herself be transferred from Kyle’s arms to his without complaint.
“Sorry, Poppet,” he tells her, kissing her cheek, “Grandpa isn’t here right now. He’s back in London, with grandma. Your dad is just being silly.” He gives Kyle a look that dares him to argue with it.
“Okay.” Rosie chirps, her attention already having shifted to the packages on the bench. “For me?” She asks.
“Maybe,” Kyle muses, swiping a finger across her cheek, “I’m sure Uncle Soap will have snuck something in for you again.”
“Can’t wait to see what he’s deemed appropriate for her this time,” John grumbles, setting down Rosie again so she can go back to playing. Soap doesn’t have the best track record of getting age-appropriate gifts, something that’s almost become a running joke between them.
Kyle hums thoughtfully. “I think I was wrong. Clearly, it’s not just the hat that makes you old. I think Rosie just drags it out of you too.”
“You better watch yourself, sergeant,” John jokes back, no longer able to keep up his grumpy demeanor, “I might not be your captain anymore, but I can still put you down any time.”
“Yeah?” Kyle asks, stepping closer as he lowers his voice, “Better show me that later then, old man.”
John glances over Kyle’s shoulder, to where Rosie has gone back to happily playing with the other children, then looks back at his partner with a grin of his own pulling on his lips. They may have a kid together, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t missed moments like these.
“Challenge accepted,” he says, then remembers something else very important.
He levels Kyle with his most serious glare, even though he knows it doesn’t work on him anymore. “You better not bloody tell anyone about this.”
“I swear,” Kyle promises, but by the twinkle in his eyes John can tell it’s a filthy lie.
He already knows he’s never going to live this down.
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roxygen22 · 1 month
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Still Here (Chapter 12)
Summary: Timothée spends Christmas with you and your family. A happier chapter than the last two.
C/W: Brief mention of parent's death
Catch up on previous chapters here.
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Both you and your mother insisted that Timothée come over and spend the night on Christmas Eve so he would not wake up alone Christmas Day. It had only been three weeks since his father passed, and you knew the holiday was going to be hard for him.
Timothée showed up as you and Madison were making cookies in the kitchen. Long past the days of knocking, he let himself in. "Where are my favorite girls?" he called out in a sing-song voice as he made his way through the house. "Aha! Found you!" he shouted when he popped his head into the doorway, sending Madison into a fit of giggles.
He gave her a side hug and a kiss on the top of her head, then walked around to your side of the island counter. "You, uh, got a little something right...there," he said as he swiped the dot of flour on your nose with his index finger.
"Oh yeah?" You grabbed his face with your flour-coated hands and pulled him in for a kiss. "You have something - there," you snickered as you gestured to his entire face. Madison's laughter continued to fill the air.
"And what are you laughing at, missy?" You turned to her. "Seems like you are the only one with no flour on them. I think we should fix that, Timmy."
Timothée grinned ear to ear. "Seems only fair." You each grabbed a handful of flour and playfully stalked toward her. It turned into a messy game of tag as you all chased each other around the kitchen island.
You skidded to a stop when you spotted your mother standing in the kitchen doorway. She stood with her hands on her hips, just shaking her head.
"Oh, uh, hey Mom."
"We'll get this cleaned up, Mrs. [Y/N]," Timothée added, ducking his head in embarrassment.
"Where's the fun in that?" She quick-stepped to the flour jar to grab a handful herself and dumped it on your head.
Madison gasped, "Nana!"
"What? She was the cleanest of all of you. Figured she needed to be brought down a peg or two." She looked at you and winked.
You narrowed your eyes playfully. "By that logic, you're next!" You and your mom stalked each other around the island until until you caught her in a big hug and patted flour all over her back. You both could barely breathe from laughing so hard. The two of you had gotten much closer since you moved back in, and after Timothée lost his dad, you were determined to make the most of the time you had left with your parents.
<><><><><>
After you got yourselves and the kitchen cleaned up, it was time for Madison to get ready for bed. She came prancing out of her room in her footie pajamas to give goodnight hugs to her grandparents. She stopped at Timothée.
"Will you be here in the morning?" she asked.
"Of course! There's no place I'd rather be."
The girl smiled. "Good." She hugged him and headed toward her room. You started to follow when she turned back. "Can Timothée come, too?"
You looked at him and shrugged. "If he wants to." You held out your hand to help him up from the couch, knowing he wouldn't turn her down. He was wrapped around her little finger.
The two of you followed Madison to her room and flanked each side of her bed. You tucked her in as Timothée sat on the edge of the bed. She held out her arms for one more hug from each of you, to which you gladly obliged.
"Now, you better go to sleep or Santa won't bring your presents," Timothée said cheekily.
"Silly. Santa's not real," she stated.
He faked a gasp and pulled a horrified face. "He's not?! Hmm, I guess that means I can have the cookies you left out for him."
Her hand shot out from under the covers. "NO! No. Please don't, just in case I'm wrong."
"Uh huh, that's what I thought," he said as he booped her nose. "Good night, kiddo." He leaned down for one more hug, then stepped out of the room. You kissed her forehead, turned off her lamp, and followed suit.
You spotted Timothée at the end of the hallway where apparently your mother had sneakily hung some mistletoe while the two of you were occupied. He pointed upward and smiled at you. "Join me under the mistletoe?" You sauntered up to him, not expecting him to spin and dip you before kissing you yearningly. "Our first Christmas together. Again."
"Merry Christmas, love," you replied as he stood you upright again and nuzzled his nose against yours.
<><><><><>
The next morning, Timothée sat next to you on the floor by the couch, coffee in hand, taking in the scene as Madison dove into her stocking and the first of her presents. He leaned over and whispered to you, "I never quite understood why my parents got so excited about Christmas morning, even more excited than me, until now. All that joy on her little face. It's addicting." You squeezed his hand and leaned your head on his shoulder.
After a bit, once everyone had opened at least one gift, Timothée brought out a package that he had been hiding behind the couch and set it in front of the girl. "Don't try to pick it up. It's heavy. This one...," he paused to clear his throat, "is from my dad." She looked at him, then you, puzzled. "He was going through some boxes in the shed a couple of months ago and came across something of mine from when I was a boy that he thought you might like to have. He...he asked me to set it aside for Christmas."
Madison gingerly opened the wrapping paper to find a round brown leather bag.
"Go on, unzip it," Timothée encouraged her. She slowly unzipped the bag to reveal a blue bowling ball. "You'll need to grow into it a little, but it's yours if you want it."
Madison's lip wobbled as she wiped her tears with her sleeve. "This...this is perfect." She launched herself into Timothée's lap for a hug. When she pulled away, her face lit up as she looked at you. "Mom, help me find my present for Timothée! Please!"
"That's okay, kiddo, it can wait until we get down to it."
"No, it can't. You'll see." You and she dug through the piles of presents until she spotted what she was looking for - a rectangular present haphazardly wrapped in shiny blue paper and three different colored bows on top.
"I wrapped it myself," she said proudly.
Timothée carefully slid his finger under an edge of the paper in an effort not to rip it. Once he opened one side, he gently slid the gift out. It was a picture of him and Madison together at the bowling alley in a frame that she decorated herself. On the back was a short, handwritten note:
Dear Timothée,
I'm glad we found you at the grocery store. Merry Christmas!
Love, Maddy
Timothée wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "I love it, and I love you, too, kiddo." He pulled her in for a hug and buried his nose in her hair. "So, so much."
<><><><><>
Chapter 13
FYI: I am expecting for Chapter 13 to be the last one.
Masterlist
Tag List: @croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie, @groovyqueer
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spacedykez · 1 year
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violence? WOOO!! lifesteal.
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so, you heard about a silly little server called lifesteal. maybe u wanna try watching it. well what if i told u that we here at lifestealblr have put together a helpful guide to help you succumb to the poisons start watching the server?? join us we are very normal
so! lifesteal! first, a summary. lifesteal is a server where when u die, you lose a heart off your permanent health bar. when you kill another player you gain a heart. heres a list to sum it up:
dying loses you a heart
killing someone else gains you a heart
losing all your hearts = dead and gone from the series, unless youre revived
you can revive dead players through gay sex crafting a special item
you can withdraw hearts from your healthbar and give them to other players
still have questions? heres a better explanation. ok moving on
lifesteal smp has FOUR seperate seasons so far!! the players are the same, give or take a few people. so, where to start?
first, you don't need to watch the seasons in order. you don't need to know anything about previous seasons to watch lifesteal. start with whatever season you want!! that being said, i'd advise starting on season three or season four (the current season) as they are the most popular.
anyways, if you want to just start watching: here is the link to the playlist containing every lifesteal video on youtube, seasons 1-4 here is the link to the playlist containing every season 3 lifesteal video here is the link to the playlist containing every season 4 lifesteal video
[thank you to @a4g and @aroaceacacia for creating and maintaining the lifesteal s1-4 & lifesteal s3 and the lifesteal s4 playlists, respectively]
HOWEVER
if you'd like to start out slow, pick one lifestealer and start watching them!! honestly, the best way to get into it is just to find a guy (or ten) that you like watching and watch their videos!
a note- i am tagging the user who created each propaganda post so that if people change their urls, you will still be able to find the post. theyre definitely NOT the lifestealers themselves lol. also, some of these are not finished! however this has been sitting in my drafts for six months and i need to post it for my own mental health
i should make this a google docs actually. might do that sometime if i get motivation. but anyways, without further ado:
looking for redstone? mrcube (@tater-noodle)
want to feed the adhd? no rlly if u want adhd fuel watch ashswag (@cherubium)*
ever wanted to see capitalist technoblade? reddoons (@bearandhoney-com)
do you want a new cringefail streamer? itzsubz (@rendogdomesticated)
what about a paranoid escape master? rekrap (@vanivanvanilla)
loyalty and storylines to get invested in? leowook (@totallynotrico)
everyone's favorite special little guy? planetlord (@getwoold)
want gay people or pranks? then go watch branzy (@pacificseaotter)
the server's best PVPer? clownpierce [NEEDED] (NOT TAKEN)
1/3 of a whole idiot on a permanent YouTube grind? baconwaffles (@aroaceacacia)
local bird man done with everyone's shit? parrot (@getwoold)
the local funky hand guy? roshambo (@techno-in-a-boat)
background character incarnate? poafa (@simply-scrolling)
the special little guy who can and will kill you? spepticle (@cogmented)
quirky smiley guy who'll kill you? princezam (@vanivanvanilla)
incomprehensible violence! mapicc! (@cogmented)
sillay liddol guy? Creechur™️? pangi [NEEDED] (NOT TAKEN)
DRAGON GUYY!!! vortexdragon. (@vanivanvanilla)
lifesteal's local polar bear? woogie (@tater-noodle)
stuborrn, endearing guy who likes a challenge? jaron (@aroaceacacia)
cringefail foxboy streamer? vitalasy (@rendogdomesticated)
the walking pride flag guy? spoke (@a4g)
"annoying little brother" but endearing? mcclutch!! (@simply-scrolling)
chaotic rascal who loves doing events? midmystic!! (@xxswagcorexx)
awesome visuals and serious storylines? terrain!! (@cherubium)
*my girlfriend's favorite lifestealer and approved by multiple friends of mine with adhd. i really do recommend him just in general.
also, please do go check out the blog of everyone who helped me with this, they're all amazing!!!
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writing-for-life · 1 month
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Sandman March Mania: Winner Announcement
This is it, everyone! Since March 25th, you voted every day. Four rounds, 24 amazingly talented artists who qualified, and each time one of them had to go, it hurt a little.
But we didn’t do this because we truly see these artists in competition with each other. Our goal was to get to know them better, share what moves us about their art, also have fun with the… weird depictions and generally just acknowledge:
The Sandman wouldn’t exist without them.
They all gave us unique and wonderful interpretations of Dream (and not just Dream) and we’re so grateful for all of them. So without further ado, here are your winners (are you surprised?):
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1. Mike Dringenberg (50% of the vote)
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2. Jill Thompson (37% of the vote)
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3. Shawn McManus (13% of the vote)
And if you’d like to know how we got here, have a look at the recap of all four rounds—we really recommend you do, because each link contains all individual pairings with all the art, all the knowledgable, interesting, funny and sometimes heartbreaking stories people shared, and is generally just what fandom should be about:
Sharing the love.
Round One
Round Two
Round Three
Round Four
That’s us. We want to thank all of you who joined us over the past four weeks, because that’s also what this event was about: Something everyone can participate in. You didn’t have to write fanfic, you didn’t need to support a ship, you didn’t need to create art. You could just bond with other people over your favourite thing if you wanted to. Or simply vote.
And although we normally wouldn’t do so, we decided (after some agonising) to be annoying and tag @neil-gaiman in this to share what a small corner of fandom came together for over four weeks: To engage in, and bond over, art appreciation. We thought you might like it or think it was a silly thing to have a bracket match, or maybe both at once. But either way—we loved hosting it and joining in!
Thanks again everyone, and who knows, we might see you all again next year for something equally manic with a different topic.
Your hosts,
@tickldpnk8 and @writing-for-life
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Text
Frankenstein's Monster
Pairing: Neteyam x Fem! Human! Reader
Tags: slow af. Part two otw. Bitter, jaded reader. Stressed Neteyam. Slow burn. Reader is a reader.
You haven’t been yourself lately, and you think it might have something to do with how everything is just so blue. Ever since you were so disrespectfully given birth to, you’re almost always surrounded by blue. It wasn't annoying at first, except the color never seems to be out of sight, there's always something that's blue everywhere you look. Literal blue aliens talk to you. And nobody has any idea how vexed you are at how ridiculously blue the sky is. Now the sea. Everything is just so goddamned blue. 
But you say nothing. It would be unbecoming of you to complain (about something so silly too) after all, it was the Sullys who saved you, Jake had taken you under his wing and taught you almost all he knows about surviving here as a human, so it makes sense that they would take you with them in their self-imposed exile.
They saved you from Dionysus Red, Container 12 where you were known as Subject 003. Even your uniform as No. 3 back then was blue. No wonder you hate the color.
 You really do not know where you stand with all of this. You are grateful, yes. You now eat three times a day, and not those shitty slop they served you back in Dionysus. You had a room of your own and you were free to do as you like, study, learn, listen to music, read, and use the technologies so generously bestowed upon you at Hell's gate. But you didn't belong there, hell, you don't belong anywhere on this moon you were so kindly shoved into existence on.
But you were glad that there was another human there that was your age. His name was Spider and you think he's stupid, especially when he tries to hiss. You adore him, but he gets on your nerves sometimes.
"I wish I could breathe outside like you. It's so unfair," he said one day.
You were watching a video about earth when he strutted in, and stared at you for five minutes straight, before finally speaking. You peek over the screen in favor of looking him in the eyes when you respond. "Sorry we couldn't salvage any of the tech they used to experiment and torture me for an ability I did not ask for. Though it would've been better if you waited for them to make it to subject 14, maybe by then they'd be working on people like me but with tails so they can make tsaheylu."
He shook his head, unraveling his crossed arms. "Okay, sorry. But that wasn't what I meant. You know that."
You shrug. "I don't know what you need my lungs for when you can just stay here with me and just…not go outside, to a world where everything tries to kill ya." You see him giving you a pointed look.
"But you don't even stay here all the time like that, I also envy how Jake gets you himself and teaches you how to survive here. Like, are you kidding me? The Chief himself? And he's practically adopted you." He mumbles the last part.
 You wonder if he sees the arrangement as  special treatment. You don't see it as such but of course, leave it to Spider to overthink things. If he pursues this logic, as ridiculous as it is, he might even one day think that Jake sees you as part of his family. Fool.
"He tries, and I have no idea why. I'm just going with it because I respect him and I believe he's doing it because for some reason (you sigh) he sees me as his responsibility. He's got like what, six kids? Ain't that enough brats to handle?"
"He's teaching you all that stuff because it's all you need since you can breathe their air, all that's left is for you to learn skills and stuff. Y'know, stuff scientists can't inject on you." he says as he plops himself up on a table. "And he's got four."
You roll your eyes, before they flickered to his legs, freshly smeared with spartan fruit, dyed to mimic the Na'vi body stripes. He sees you looking and sighs once again. "You see what I do to try and feel like I belong with them?"
"You certainly belong with them more than I do, you grew up here, and you get along with his children too."
"More like they tolerate me." He rolls his eyes.
"Their mom tolerates you, the kids like you." You drop the datapad on the table to completely focus on him. "That's something, isn't it? At least the kids don't hate you. His eldest glares at me like I personally offended his ancestors."
"Oh, they don't hate you. You don't exactly make it easy to approach you."
"Yeah, well I'm not that interested in making friends, ok? I've got you already. In any case, I think you might as well be part of their family with the amount of time you spend around them."
"I still think being able to breathe the same air as them would help a lot," he replies. 
Sometimes you still miss him.
You do hope that he's still alive…unless he's in a situation where dying is much more preferable.
Naturally, since Jake Sully more or less became your guardian, you had to leave with them. You didn't mind really, and you felt a kind of loyalty towards him, loyalty that's bordering on obsequiousness, and it scares you because you know you would do anything he asks of you (so you've gotten good at hiding before he gets the chance).
And that same loyalty made you feel anger again for the first time in a long while. 
"Absolutely not." Ronal says, the moment her eyes landed on you, she's already decided. 
You feel blood rush to your ears, your fingers digging into your palms as you feel everyone's eyes on you. You knew what Jake's family was thinking. That Neyteri was right and that they shouldn't have taken you with them. Now, they were moments away from finally convincing the chief to let them stay, and your mere presence ruined it. You hated the fact that they would be rejected, and sent away because of you. You knew you'd cause an inconvenience, everyone did, yet they just had to drag you along.
You were seriously even considering friendship with them, since you don't have a Hell's Gate to hide in, no Spider. Now they're all you've got. And you thought that maybe they don't hate you that much. But now the inconvenience of your presence was palpable, you realize that you've got no right to even think about friendship.
"She's one of us…" 
You could hear Jake in the background, voice too muddled because you couldn't focus, you didn't want to focus, because if you did, you'd hear what they had to say, and when you do, you wouldn't be able to help but formulate a response, and then you'd never be able to keep your mouth shut like Jake practically begged you to. So you bit your lip, kept your eyes on the ground, and held your tongue.
⌛🌊⌛
You yawn as you stretch, popping a few joints here and there. You step out of your new home with the Sullys, which was what they called a marui. You look up at the blue sky, then down at the blue sea. Then you catch some of the reef folks giving you the stink eye. You glare back and they shuffle away with a grimace, all pride and indignation. You really wanted to give those blue, lanky-ass grumps a good throttling.
"Stop glaring at the locals, dad told us to behave." The eldest of the Sully kids say as he steps out, already geared up for the day. You look up at him. "He only meant it for you troublemakers. Also, it wouldn't matter if I behaved or not." 
It didn't matter because they would always find something to be displeased about when it came to you.
 
You knew that he knew exactly what you meant and you walked away. Then you went padding right back, then past him to grab the book you forgot from inside the marui. You feel his gaze at you as you leave until you rounded a corner, walking far away to go look for a hiding spot for the rest of the day. 
You plan on making the most of your freedom before Jake masters whatever water animal it is he's practicing on, because then he'll have time to spare on you. 
You hear someone call out your name.
You turn and watch as Kiri sprints her way towards you. You squint up at her, almost blinded at the bright smile she was sending down at you. What an angel. 
"Now, where are you skulking off to again?"
"Anywhere that's far enough."
She looks around comically. "I don't think dad would appreciate you migrating off to another island for your reading time."
"Haha, very funny." You say, trailing off awkwardly, not knowing how to further contribute to the small talk she was obviously initiating.
She giggles as she proceeds to walk ahead, slow enough to let you know that she wants to walk alongside you.
"Look, I just…" she starts, waving her hands a little as she looks for the words she wants to say. "I don't think separating yourself from us is a good idea."
You say nothing, so she continues.
To be honest, it wasn't surprising of her to approach you about this. Of course they might care a smidge about you, like one would normally feel for a stray cat they occasionally give food to.
"They might see that. That we aren't that close. They might realize the distance you're creating and use it to their advantage, to try and hurt you."
"Then you underestimate people, and their capacity for cruelty."
"I think they'd be too disgusted to even try and approach me."
"Oh, I'm well aware of cruelty, I never underestimate anyone's capability for it. But I know I can be just as cruel. You can count on me to not be a pussy and let them trample on me."
"I know. But I think it's better if you don't go looking for trouble…" she says.
"What do you mean?" 
"I think it's better if you stay close to us, don't give them the opportunity to approach you. Don't give them a chance to get a rise out of you and cause conflict."
Oh but of course. Of course she wasn't worried about you, she just doesn't want you to cause more trouble for them. Fair enough. It was presumptuous of you to think that you'd even be on the same level as a stray cat.
"But I don't think your siblings would appreciate my presence around them. Believe me, I also don't want to cause anything bad for your family. Why'd you think I keep my distance for? I stay far away from you, because I know that they'll attempt to provoke me, maybe possibly even try to hurt me, get rid of me, or kill me. I stay far so no one will get involved. The conflict would be contained. Just me. Get it? " 
You stop, and she turns to you with an even more worried look on her face as she scans your features. "That's a valid point," you say.
She stammers, struggling to reply as her cheeks darkened. What she was getting worked up for, you do not know. But you do hope that your genuine wish to not cause problems for them would set her mind at ease.
You walk off.
⌛🌊⌛
You think that perhaps they shouldn't worry too much about you causing trouble, when they can't keep away from it themselves.
You hear Jake's voice from inside the tent. He was seething, and you watch as Lo'ak, the second son, walks out of the marui, his face bruised. He huffs as he pushes past you. You decide against loitering around there like a nosy eavesdropper, not wanting to come face to face with anyone from the tent. Then Neteyam walks out of the Marui. He raises an eyebrow at you, then you turn your back, about to escape from the reaches of the flame, or at least tried to.
"And you," Jake calls out. 
You turn towards him, and you see Neteyam grab this opportunity to vanish.
"You're coming with me."
"...um, no. I don't think so."
From the corner of your eyes, you see Neteyam pause, then pivot towards you, probably with a 'the fuck?' look on his face, the usual one he sends towards you.
Jake narrows his eyes as he stares you down, and you gulp.
"What I meant was, I am not ready yet, sir. I would like to have more time to gather my  courage, please." 
You hear Neteyam scoff.
Jake's brows drew together, deep in thought. You knew you had at least a little bit of a chance that he might relent when he takes his time to decide. If you had no chance at all, then he wouldn't have to think about it. You knew he was too busy for you, and you were right.
"Fine. But prepare yourself. I won't be as lenient once your training starts. You have a lot to learn." 
You, in your relief, grinned up at him. He blinks, clearly taken aback, his stern gaze softening. How it baffled you even more, when he nodded and patted you on the head, before striding off.
You almost burst out laughing when you catch Neteyam gawking at you. You try to keep your lips from curling into a smug, shit-eating grin for his sake. You failed.
⌛🌊⌛
You hate how that exchange improved your mood so much. It was revolting, the way the world seemed so much brighter after receiving a pat on the head from your saviour. You must've been a lot more lonely than you let yourself realize.
Perhaps Jake knew, because he went ahead and dragged you with them to dinner. The dreaded communal gathering that you've been avoiding.
You should've attended these gatherings sooner.
You loved watching the reef folk squirm under your blank stare. And since Jake successfully mastered riding a skimwing, his reputation improved significantly. The reef folk are more careful not to offend him and his people now, at least in front of the chief. Now you can creep them out without having to worry about getting beat up (at least not right now).
The fun was cut off though, when Neteyam notices what you've been doing. He was onto you at once, smiling politely at the people he passed, then as he reaches you,  his smile falls into a scowl. He leans down to you and whispers "will you stop doing that." It was more of a hiss, really. His smile was back again as he pulls away.
For the rest of the night, you can feel his gaze on you. You don't see your life flashing before your eyes, so it probably wasn't a glare anymore. It was unnerving, still. Especially since he's also, quite obviously hovering around you. He wasn't even trying to hide it, like a reminder, a warning.
It was a pretty nice distraction though. At least it was a far cry from the kind of looks you always get from the reef people. Granted, you kind of deserve it for creeping them out with your perfectly practiced, blank eyes, but they wouldn't receive such disturbing stares if they weren't looking at you in the first place. Since the beginning, they look at you like you were a walking direhorse shit. Except for that one girl named Tsireya. You could practically feel her curious stares like laser beams. At least they hurt less than the usual repulsion. Ah. Hurt. Yes, of course it hurts. No amount of bitterness and pretense of indifference can protect you from your very human weaknesses. The desire to be a part of a community. How completely alone you are now, without Spider, without those agreeable middle-aged scientists back in Hell's Gate, who exerted so much effort into building rapport with you. Tsireya's curious gaze is refreshing.
And as if she was summoned with the mere thought of her, Tsireya taps you gently on the shoulders. You meet her squinting eyes, sparkling with mirth, with your dead ones.
"Hi," she says
"Hi," you answer.
She looks down, still smiling. Shouldn't you say something? But she's the one who approached you, if anyone's gotta say something it should be her. 
You watch as she purses her lips in thought. Then she meets your gaze again.
"I apologize. I've never met a human before, and don't really know how to say what I want to say exactly the way I mean them."
You feel a bit warm, right in the chest because she talks so gently and she's so nice and her voice doesn't bear any disgust or hostility…
"What I do want to say is that," she continues. "I would like to be your friend."
"No, thank you."
Observe, the way her eyebrows meet but with anger so nonexistent, its absence apparent in the way her lips form a pout, her eyes glistening in dismay. You know she feels guilty because of the way her villagers have been treating you. You start to feel a little guilty yourself, but her mortification at your unexpected rejection of her offer of friendship gives you that unhinged sense of satisfaction. It gives fuel to the tiny flames licking at the hollow feeling in your knees. It was exhilarating.
You knew Neteyam was watching, too stunned to try and save the day.
You also knew that her brother was watching, his body tensing at the sight of his upset sister. He was far enough away to give you time, and you wait as he pushes himself off the tree he was leaning against, his eyes burning holes at the side of your head.
"You wouldn't gain anything by becoming friends with me. If anything, it would probably upset your parents." You explain.
Tsireya shakes her head, and she grabs both of your hands. Your eyes widened at the contact. 
"I do not think you deserve the way you've been ostracized. You are different, yes. But you are not evil, not like the demons we've heard so much about. Let me be your friend, we can show them that you are not one of those demons."
You did not expect this reaction, and you look around, hoping that no one other than her brother and Neteyam was looking, fat chance because everyone in the village has been blatantly looking at the two of you the moment she took your hands in hers.
"How do you even know that I'm not one of them?" 
Aonung reached the two of you, his lips curling in disgust at the sight of your hand in his sister's.
"I have a feeling. And let us confirm this feeling of mine by spending more time together!" She gives you an earnest smile.
You wanted to shoot her down again and reject her, this time right in front of her brother, just out of spite. But with her round, bright eyes, her genuine smile and reassuring grasp, you couldn't do it.
"If you really want to, I guess." You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, even as she squeals, shaking your hands as she gleefully bounces up and down. You wanted to smile too.
"Do you wish to be one of us or something?" Aonung asks, clearly giving his all to appear civilized.
"No." You answer simply, and as fast as you can before you could think of a rude answer.
You notice everyone losing interest in your conversation with the chief's children. The reef people are slowly getting back to mind their own businesses. You don't want to gain their scrutinizing gaze once again, and upsetting these two kids would. 
"Then why are you trying to associate yourself with my sister?"
"Aonung," Tsireya groans. "I was the one who asked her first. I'm the one who wants to be friends."
Aonung ignores her as he steps closer towards you, his eyes flickering over to Jake before down again at yours. You couldn't help but steal a glance at Jake too, only to find him too busy talking with Tonowari, the chief. You meet Aonung's gaze once again, this time he was wearing a predatory grin.
"A human, a demon, trying to worm its way into somewhere it doesn't belong. That's what you are. Do not forget."
You take a deep breath, feeling the cool night air stretch your lungs as you try to resist the urge to deck him, right in front of his own village.
"What's up?" Lo'ak saunters toward your friendly group, both his arms resting on top of his head in a lazy manner. His clueless gaze shifting from Tsireya, then to you, then at Aonung. "Am I interrupting something?"
Simultaneously, the metkayina siblings answer a negative and a positive.
"Great, what is this? The gathering of freaks?" Aonung laughs. Neteyam winces, his eyes burning a fiery glare that you've become familiar with.
Kiri follow behind Lo'ak, sheepishly looking at you through her eyelashes.
"It must be, since you're here too." You say before Neteyam could even open his mouth.
The other three, Lo'ak, Kiri, and Tsireya blanches at your answer, the two other 'freaks' not even given enough time to feel offended. Silence ensues and you could almost hear the gears in Aonung's brain as he processes your unexpected retort. It definitely wasn't one of your best, and you cringe.
Lo'ak all but explodes in raucous laughter, causing eyes and heads to turn in your direction once again.
Aonung's sharp eyes flicker once again towards the direction where his father and Jake were, before huffing as he slowly backs away.
"That's right. Enjoy yourself tonight. It is a party after all."
He was definitely going to have you killed.
You know you've contradicted yourself when you told Kiri that you do not want to cause them trouble, only to later start provoking reef people. You managed to not make a scene (you kinda did) and ruin the party (you nearly did) though. That's something.
"What was that?" Neteyam asked, eyebrows slanted downwards in disapproval. You shrug. "Some guy walked up on me and started spouting shit?"
He huffs, clearly irritated. "You've obviously been annoying people on purpose," he says in a low voice, so as to not gain more attention. 
"It was me who approached her!" Tsireya whispers, vehemently defending you.
"What happened?" Lo'ak asks, also whispering, his head bent and leaning towards you.
"We all know you've been making others feel uncomfortable on purpose." Neteyam says to you.
You scoff. "Story of my life in a nutshell."
"What?"
"I only treat people the way they treat me, Neteyam. They glare at me and it doesn't matter if I ignore them, they'll still see me as a monster and treat me like shit. I just decided to have fun with it."
Neteyam sighs. He looks around before meeting your gaze once again. "Just stop with the troublemaking, it's the least you can do."
You wanted to rip your hair off. 
"Well, I'm sorry then. Sorry for terrorizing the metkayina people by mirroring their stares!" You flip Neteyam off, mouthing a very aggressive 'fuck you'. He gapes at you, mortified. You shake your head, muttering a tiny "shit" as you leave, already regretting the way you handled things, but still leaving as fast as you can to escape.
"You kinda deserved that." Lo'ak states.
Neteyam gives him an offended look, before also shaking his head as he walks off to the opposite direction, his head filled with thoughts of you.
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thisapplepielife · 5 months
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.
Elf You
Prompt Day 20: Magic AU | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Sentient Toys | Tags: Elf on the Shelf AU, Elf!Steve, Elf!Robin, Elf!Eddie, Elf Magic, Platonic Stobin, Crack Taken Seriously, Silliness, The Magic of Christmas
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'Twas the night before December, and all is quiet except for the grandfather clock in the corner of the living room tick, tick, ticking as it edges ever closer to midnight. December is approaching, with only seconds to spare as the small town of Hawkins, Indiana sleeps.
When the clock strikes twelve, two little sets of eyes snap open, alive and alert for another holiday season. 
Two little Scout Elves, but no shelf to be found. No, sirree. That's amaetur hour, and they've grown past those early pranks. No, these little elves use their magic to put on big productions. Bigger and grander each night, leading up to Christmas Eve.
They were born for this. 
But right now, they've got to get their bearings after nearly a year of slumber.
Steve stretches, pushing his little fabric arms over his head. 
Robin stands, trying to work the kinks out of her back. She'd been twisted in the tote of decorations, and now her back is killing her. 
"Hey, Robbie, you okay?" Steve asks, walking over and looking at her. 
"They've got to be more careful with me next year, I'm getting too old for this shit," she complains, sitting upright. 
Steve helps her to her feet, and they dust themselves off. Being an elf is fun, but it's only for twenty-four days a year. The rest of the time they're shoved in a box in the attic. Dormant.
Shitty parents tell kids they flew back to the North Pole, but that's a goddamn lie.
The first night is hard. They don't have a plan for their nightly chaos. They have to do it on the fly, so they better get started, right away.
"Marshmallow mini golf?" Steve suggests. 
"We did that last year!" Robin whines. 
They're running out of new ideas. They've done everything twice at this point. 
"How 'bout a messy kitchen?" another voice asks, and they snap their heads towards the sound. 
"Who the hell are you?" Steve asks, putting his hands on his hips. This is their territory. "And…where the hell are you?" Steve asks. 
They can hear him, but they can't see him. 
"Yeah, interloper! Who do you think you are?" Robin demands, backing Steve up. 
Steve looks around, but there's nobody there.
Not until Steve spots the box on the counter, brand new and unopened. Slightly wobbling.
Together, they pull open the cover, and there he is. Another boy elf, with dark eyes, and long hair, trapped behind cellophane.
"What's your name and what are you doing here?" Steve demands. 
"I'm an Elf on the Shelf. We're gonna be friends 'til the end."
"Oh brother, he belongs on The Island of Misfit Toys," Robin says, snarky. "That's a Good Guy line. That's a whole different kind of magic doll. Not our department. So, clearly evil."
"I'm not evil," he says. "I'm an elf."
"That's what they all say," Robin says, looking at Steve. "Let's just leave him wrapped up. Problem solved."
Steve sighs and rubs his forehead. 
There's a little name tag on the counter: Eddie.
"Well, you were an idiot, when you showed up, too," Steve tells her, crossing his arms, annoyed. Looking back through the plastic, "Your name is Eddie."
Eddie just nods.
"Why aren't you out of your box?" Steve asks him. Eddie has elf magic. He can teleport. Surely, he can get out of a fucking cardboard box. If not, oh, brother.
Eddie looks unsure, and Steve rolls his eyes. If Steve had fingers, he'd snap them, but he doesn't. So, he just thinks really hard and uses his own elf magic to get Eddie out of his packaging.
Robin looks at Eddie, "Well, it was nice to meet you. But we've got this house covered. They've got two kids, and we're two elves. We don't really need a third," Robin is explaining, when they all hear a baby cry.
Well, shit. There's three kids now. That's what happens when elf magic keeps you dormant most of the goddamn year. You don't find out about big changes until way after the fact.
So, new elf. Steve went through this when Robin showed up after the last kid, and now they're best friends. So, maybe this will be okay. 
Then he sees Eddie dangling from the light fixture. Maybe not. 
"Stop that, asshole," Steve says, jumping up, grabbing Eddie, sending them both to the floor. "Stop messing around, and help us think of something to do tonight," Steve demands.
"Cookie baking mess?" Eddie suggests.
"Been there, done that," Steve says, "that's first year shit."
Robin puts her hand on her chin, thinking, "We really don't have much time. We'll be able to plan better tomorrow. Marshmallow bath in the sink?" she suggests.
Steve groans. It's easy. But the kids like it, and their mom always has marshmallows in the pantry.
"How about a ski slope," Eddie says, and they both turn to look at him. 
"Tell me more…" Steve prompts.
Eddie is looking around the kitchen, a little frantically, clearly trying to come up with a fully formed idea. Steve waits. Robin waits. 
And finally Eddie pops up onto the counter and grabs the full roll of paper towels and takes it to the living room, and the couch, right near the tree. He stacks up two pillows from the couch on the floor, and stands back, thinking.
"Like this," he finally says, and gives the paper towel roll a good shove, unrolling it down over the pillows and onto the ground. 
Steve looks at it. 
Robin looks at it.
This could work.
"We could rummage through the Barbie clothes," Robin suggests and Steve nods. That's a really good idea. 
Steve gets in the box with the Barbie stuff, and digs around until he throws out a snowsuit, some skis, goggles. A Christmas sweater. This will do just fine. 
They all get dressed, and in place, ready for the kids in the morning. 
Eddie might not be such a bad addition, after all.
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Notes: Yeah, I don't know. They're elves. Magic elves. 🤣
This is the ski slope idea Eddie came up with.
"Friends 'til the end" is a Chucky catchphrase. Also, a magic doll. Just a very different one, lol. The Island of Misfit Toys is from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!
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