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danmainacc · 2 years

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THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN THE WORLD

As Leo, Mikey, Don, and Casey ride in the Turtle Tank, Casey tells stories of the future…….and you.

Character: Leonardo

Writing type: One-shot

Warnings: none, just some tooth-rotting fluff and a few innuendod ;) and maybe the teeniest bit of angst if you squint

Author’s note: okay so it’s pretty obvious I am obsessed with Future! Leo and this idea randomly came to mind as I was watching The Thing ( don’t ask ) and just had to write it. ( credit to qoeww for photo )

...

“The Turtle Tank, baby! It’s how we roll in the past. I mean, the present. I mean...Ugh! Time travel’s confusing,” Mikey groaned, slumping in his seat in the Tank.

“They’re on the move. According to the subcutaneous tracker I put on Raph--.” “Wait, does that mean you put trackers on all of us?” Leo cocked his brown bone, giving his twin a suspicious and scolding look, Mikey doing the same.

“No. No, of course I did...n’t,” Donnie sheepishly denied, an awkward smile plastered on his face.

“Based on their trajectory, they’re headed--.” “To the tallest building in the city,” Casey finished, eyes wide.

“That’s right, Metro Tower,” Donnie nodded, confused at how he knew.

Casey shuddered, the memories coming back to him in flashes as he recalled the scary stories Commander (y/n) used to tell him.

“I heard the story so many times as a kid, but I never thought...And behold, from their perch atop New York City, the Kraang ripped open the sky itself. What came out was terror, and what rained down upon us was worse than death,” Casey recited.

Commander (y/n) might’ve been a little dramatic.

“They told that to kids?! Man, the future is harsh,” Mikey exclaimed, slumping in his seat once again.

“Well, I’m not gonna let that happen. We need to get into Metro Tower without being spotted. We’ll take the subway tunnels,” Leo firmly stated, turning to Donnie.

“Subways tunnels don’t offer much in the way of an escape if we need it. Are you sure about this?” Donnie cocked a brow, turning around to give Leo a serious look.

“Yeah, maybe we should--.” “Guys, we’re doing it my way. Remember?” Leo dismissed.

The two brother gave each other concerned looks before focusing back on the road, an uncomfortable silence settling over the Tank.

Casey looked around anxiously, fidgeting with a loose string on his glove.

Being sent to the past in itself was a nerve-wracking experience, but nothing was more concerning than watching his old masters fight like this.

In the future, the brothers were inseparable, the epitome of a strong sibling relationship. Everyone listened, everyone talked, everyone heard.

He had to find some way to get them talking, healthily at least.

“In the future, you guys are beyond amazing,” Casey started, catching the attention of the brothers.

“The mystic powers you’re able to harness from within are on a whole other level.”

“Of course! How have we not asked about my future?” Donnie smiled, putting the tank on auto-pilot and throwing an arm around Casey’s shoulder.

“Don’t let me down, I am expecting BIG things from me. How many Nobel prizes do I have. No! Don’t tell me. I wanna be surprised.”

“Donnie, you were the most brilliant, innovative mind of all time. Without you, the resistance wouldn’t have made it half as far as it di-is...without you,” Casey quickly caught himself, relieved to see that the brothers didn’t notice.

He didn’t want to tell them what happens, not yet, at least.

“You built weapons, tended to the wounded, and trained a select few how to build and program your tech.”

“I’m shocked, I am. Go on, continue to meet my expectations,” Donnie smirked, plopping himself back down in his seat and kicking up his feet.

“What do I do in the future?” Mikey asked, starry-eyed.

Casey turned around and gave the orange turtle a warm smile.

His plan was working.

“You are the most powerful mystic warrior the world has ever known,” Casey started.

“You trained the next generation of yokai and humans alike to wield mystic power, and protected the camp with your infinity chains at every turn.”

He walked over to Mikey, who was absolutely flabbergasted, and grabbed his wrists.

“And with those two hands, you sent me back in time!”

“Wowwwwwwwww,” Mikey marveled, staring down at his hands as Casey let go.

He quickly held them out, wiggling his fingers as he concentrated hard, a few beads of sweat rolling down his head.

It made Casey smile to see one of his former masters so fun-loving and care-free, the break from the constant worry of battle, refreshing.

“Ahem,” Leo nonchalantly cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact with the time traveling boy.

“What about me?”

Casey’s gap toothed smile grew wider, the pleasant memories of his Sensei...no...his father running through his head.

“You were our fearless leader. If there was a rescue needed, a cargo shipment to raid, hell, a patrol slot that needed to be filled, you were the man--er--turtle. You trained some of the younglings how to use weapons and hand-to-hand combat, and were the lead strategist when it came to coming up with ways to fight back against the Kraang!” Casey gushed, gasping after finishing the whole thing in one breath.

Leo smirked, resting his cheek in his palm as he soaked everything in.

“I like this. I like this very much,” He nodded.

That’s when Casey remembered one, teeny, little detail, and smirked to himself as he leaned back, casually.

He knew Leo and Commander (y/n) were together in this time, “boyfriend and girlfriend” he believed it was called. So maybe this information might put his former Sensei at ease.

“Oh, and you were married to the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Leo practically choked on air, and Donatello almost slammed on brake, Mikey’s eyes practically bulging out their sockets.

“WHAT?!” The three exclaimed in unison, frantically looking at Casey for some elaboration.

Casey nervously chuckled, confused at their sudden surprise. “W-Well, that’s what you used to call Commander (y/n). I think you guys get married 2 or 3 years after the Kraang first arrive.”

A lazy smile stretched across Leo’s face as he leaned back in his chair, relishing in the thought.

He already knew you were the one he wanted to marry, no doubt about it. You were his one and only. But so soon? And during the apocalypse? How did it work? Did the two of you make time for each other? Did the two of you do...adult things?

“Whoo hoooo! Looks like big bro put a ring on it,” Mikey teased, suggestively wiggling his brow bones at his older brother.

“She’s really that beautiful?” Leo sincerely asked, turning to Casey with hopeful eyes.

Casey returned a truthful smile, giving a firm nod. “Gorgeous. Despite the fact that she was living through an apocalypse, she could still very much compete with the women in the Before-Times.”

Leo grinned from ear to ear at the image, your already stunning self becoming even more radiant with age and development. He was over the moon in excitement.

Until he realized.

“Wait. What do you mean was?” Leo quickly asked, furrowing his brow bones as he turned to Casey with an icy stare.

The color practically drained from Casey’s face as he realized his mistake, beads of sweat already forming on his forehead.

This isn’t how he wanted them to find out.

Not like this.

“I--.” “AUTO-BREAK: ENGAGED!” The Tank stated in a robotic tone, the vehicle coming to a sudden stop.

The brothers were sent flying forward, their minds quickly forgetting Leo’s question.

Casey let out a sigh of relief as he stood up, scratching his arm.

‘Thank you, Pizza Supreme.’

...

#rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #nickelodeon

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ithinkinggenshin · 2 years

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Hi I want to request a hickey prank on

(Hu tao, ei, miko, shenhe) fem reader please thanks!

Hickey Prank

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Hu Tao, Ei, Yae Miko, Shenhe

Pairings: Fem!Reader x ^above characters

Warnings: lots of implied nsfw but nothing explicit (under the cut just in case), possessive behavior, Shenhe is homicidal and kills a lot of monsters and then you kiss on a mountain (spoilers), branding with electricity (spoilers pt.2)

Word count: 1.7k

Synopsis: this is a brilliant idea where nothing could possibly go wrong.

Hu Tao:

You thought you could get back at her for all the pranks she’d played on you? What a silly notion. Hu Tao immediately saw right through your pathetic attempt and decided to answer your little gimmick with an overwhelming reaction. It was like you lit a small match and she responded with an explosion of fire.

Hu Tao pushes you into your room and tells you to get on the bed. You try again to tell her it was a prank, that these hickies aren't real but are only met with a harsh laugh.

Of course they are. She's known all along. She knew it the moment you stepped into her office at the parlor. She knew it when she wrapped her own hand around your throat, squeezing the sides until your pathetic attempts to stop her were just you sluggishly flailing in her grasp, and she was sure you had dark spots dancing in your vision. And she knew it when she dragged you through the streets, people looking at you in pity as the queen of the dead was about to make you one of her undead subjects.

Now you're home and she's going to the locked box in the closet, quickly opening it up with her skeleton key and fishing out things that are too well made to be considered "just toys."

When she turns back you feel a ball of lead settle on your stomach. She's really serious. A deadly thing. The regret you feel now is nothing compared to what you’ll feel by the end of this.

Hu Tao wipes away the fake hickies you made on your neck and quickly moves to replace them with some real ones of her own. The frantic way she sucks and bites. Some of them are barely visibly pink, but most of them are already turning purple. Your voice betrays you as you squeak and moan at the rough attention. Your girlfriend pinches you everytime you make a sound. This is a punishment. You’re not supposed to be enjoying this. But you’re a pain slut so Hu Tao supposes it can’t be helped.

You both fall onto the bed when the back of your legs hit the end of it. She’s already ripping off your pants and shirt. The sound of tearing fabric has you curling back, trying to hide yourself to no avail. She’ll expose you and every one of your sins. She’s going to mark you up and down so no matter what, even when no one is looking, you’ll constantly feel the controlling grip she has on you.

You belong to her.

There’s no escape from that.

Ei:

She has a perfect memory, so she knows for certain that those bruises didn’t come from her. You haven’t been outside of the city. She’d know if you got hurt by someone inside. Any reports of such an incident would go straight to her and the perpetrator would be dealt with swiftly.

She doesn’t hesitate to ask you directly where you got those marks. You better be careful how you answer. Give her a name and someone’s home may catch fire from a sudden lighting strike. Avoid the question and she’ll pout until you give her a proper answer, even going so far as to kick you out Euthymia, making you sit with the cold and silent shogun puppet until you’re ready to tell her the truth.

When the truth does eventually come out Ei will give you a disapproving look and with a scowl tell you that you shouldn’t be playing tricks on your lover.

You do your best to apologize with puppy eyes and a promise to do whatever she wants for the rest of the day.

Ei hums, her immediate thought is to make you go buy her some sweets, but then a thought dawns on her. Humans see hickies as marks of possession. If you’re so concerned about people seeing them, including her, so much so that you’d go so far as to pull a prank, then surely you must want her to give you some markings of her own.

She decides to carve the same electro symbol on the back of her neck onto yours. You aren’t prepared for the intense wave of electricity to burn through your skin. You pass out from the pain and wake up about thirty seconds later with a far more permanent sign of ownership than any hickey.

Ei promptly then sends you on your way to go out and buy her some sweets and dango milk.

People see the purple bruises and creeping red lines on your neck and while some look worried, others are clearly envious of such clear branding from the archon. You’re her chosen lover after all. And now everyone can see it, plain and clear.

You return to the palace and Ei quickly comes out of her mindscape to partake in her apology gifts.

She’s been feeling thrilled since imbuing her mark upon you. She has you sit in her lap as she feeds you small bites of her requested offerings, you lean into her touch.

Ei loves you fiercely. This mark of her power is proof of that.

Now you can never leave her.

Now you will always belong to her.

Yae Miko:

If you’re so okay with flaunting another woman’s hickies on your neck, then you’ll love walking around with Miko’s marks on you.

Your legs are wobbly and you can barely stand. You, very sorely, regret having tried to pull a prank like that on Yae. She’s always said that you should tell her if anyone dares lay a finger on you. She’s always made sure to leave little gifts on places where she knows you can’t hide them.

Now it looks like you’ve just barely survived an encounter with wolves. Enormous bite marks and bruises litter your neck, shoulders, chest, thighs. They’re everywhere.

When you woke up this morning, you gasped at the sight of them all in the mirror.

If you look closely, you can still see the tiny bruises you gave yourself the other day for the prank, but they’re completely dwarfed by the dark purple marks right next to them given to you by the kitsune.

You never thought she’d let her animalistic bare its teeth at you. That she’d let it almost devour you.

Now you know to never bait her like that again.

Too bad you don’t realize that once the animal is out of its cage, it will never go back inside.

Shenhe:

Someone will die because of you.

Shenhe’s first instinct tells her that someone hurt you, and she sees red. Anyone who dares lay a finger on you is met with the sight of the sharp end of her spear. It doesn’t help that she’s significantly faster than you, so even sprinting at your fastest, following the trails of the dead monsters isn’t enough. You have to get her to come back, so you do something almost as stupid as playing this prank on her.

You know she’d never hurt you on purpose, but you can’t help but flinch when Shenhe’s spear barely misses you and plunges into the ground, a Mitachurl impaled on it. You knew she’d come to save you, so you didn’t hesitate to throw yourself into danger and simply scream her name and the word help at the top of your lungs. The small band of monsters is wiped out before you can even process that she’s already back.

She leans over you, and you’re pierced by her silver eyes.

“Don’t do that again.”

You wrap your arms around her neck and promise not to, leaning up to kiss her. Shenhe responds quickly, locking herself onto you and pressing her lips against yours. You pour all of your love into this kiss and hope that she can feel it past her red bindings.

You think she does because when you finally let go to catch your breath, she seems disappointed.

You kiss her cheek and all over her face, giggling at the sight of the growing pink blush on her cheeks.

You kiss down her jaw and gasp when Shenhe puts her hand on your chest and pushes you back down onto the grass.

“No.”

You’re the one with the marks on your neck. Shenhe should be the one giving your wounds attention.

Your dilemma of trying to decide whether or not to tell her the truth about them is made for you when Shenhe kisses a purple spot only to taste something sweet. She rubs the spot with her finger and finds the purple smudging before coming off. The rest of the marks do the same when she wipes them a couple of times. You watch as her brows furrow in confusion and she looks at you quizzically. You grin up at her sheepishly and tell her that you were just playing a small trick on her, and wanted to see how she’d react. You can’t help but feel bad as you watch a debate and conflict go through her head and reflect in her eyes, though her overall expression remains as pensive as ever.

“So, you’re not hurt. You just wanted to see what I’d do if I thought you were?”

You hesitate but decide to be honest, explaining that bruises and marks on people don’t always mean that they’ve been hurt in a bad way. Sometimes it means that the person is loved in a… passionate way.

“Then let me try.”

You feel your breath taken away when Shenhe says that. You nod quickly and she leans down and bites your neck. Hard. You yelp and dig your fingers in the roots of her hair.

“Sh-shenhe! Not so harsh!”

You have to take another moment to explain to her how to do it properly, but when she tries a second time you find she’s a quick learner, quickly pulling moans and whimpers out of you. The grip she has on your waist tightens as she sucks and nibbles at every inch of your skin. She wants more. Your voice is so pretty when you say her name like that. What else can she do to make you make these sounds? She’ll do everything she can to find out.

Extra: I wrote a seperate smutty bit about Hu Tao here

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riddle-me-ri · 2 years

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Ok, here's another one. Zero Year, Arkham, BTAS Riddler

He is having a conversation with Reader, who he isn't on friendly terms with, and third Rogue. Rogue wanting to point something out says.

"It doesn't work! It's like asking Y/N if she would sleep with you"

"Eh." Y/N said.

"Excuse me?"

"Just because I hate his guts doesn't mean he doesn't have a pretty face."

A/N: hahaha this is brilliant! I hope you don't mind I took some liberties in the wording of the conversations but I hopw the idea still reads rip. This was such a fun exercise to write other Rogues! Thanks for requesting! Also N/N is nickname since Harley loves to give people nicknames ❤🖤 Also this is untitled cause I wasn't sure what to title these scenarios lol

Trigger Warnings: Suggestive themes and strong language

Zero Year/Capullo Riddler:

“You really don’t perceive me as a threat? The man that brought Gotham City to its knees?” Ed argued.

“Well, Gotham doesn’t really have the best legs to stand on…” Joker quips back.

You roll your eyes, it’s never-ending feud between these two.

You just had to be stuck in an Arkham padded cell. Between the both of them. You weren’t even insane, they were just overpopulated at Blackgate, but if they didn’t get you out you were going to become insane eventually.

“Y/N, tell that absolute clown-”

“Hey don’t forget handsome!”

Edward growls in frustration. “Tell him how I’m Batman’s superior foe. How I threw Batman into hiding! How I ran this city for months!”

Joker laughs. “You’ve gotta better chance convincing her to fuck you Eddie boy.”

“Eh..well..”

“Huh?” Both men rushed towards the wall that separated them from you.

“Please tell me you’re joking…” You hear Joker mutter.

“I mean…Don’t get me wrong he’s a smug pompous asshole…

Unknowingly, Edward and Joker both shrug and nod. The one thing they could agree on. Well that and Batman.

“...but he is a cute pompous asshole. Not to mention his face is totally sit-able.”

For one rare moment the Joker was actually speechless for a minute. He laments, “please tell me your joking…”

“I’m afraid she’s dead serious, my friend. As she should be. Once I no doubt escape before the clown…I’d like to take you up on that offer…”

Arkhamverse Riddler:

“Edward, it’s not going to work.”

“Oh please, what do you know, Crane? Only someone of my parallel intellectual prowess can see the immaculate results it will produce."

Crane blinks and rubs his temples. "Edward, how is building a race course full of obstacles going to prove you're more intelligent than Batman?"

"It calls for quick thinking! He can't possibly predict every twist and turn. The moment he thinks he's solved a puzzle, another one comes right up before a moment's notice! Only a cunning genius of my caliber can pull this off."

"I'm afraid it'll be like you trying to court Y/N to bed. It's just not going to work.."

"Ah..well…" you interject.

The two men look away from Ed's blueprints on the table to steal a glance at you. You were steadily scrolling through your phone, not lifting your head once.

"W-What was that?" Johnathan inquiries not sure if he heard right.

You look up to the master of fear and shrug your shoulders. "I mean yeah he's a greasy egomaniac, but he is handsome in a dirty rugged kinda way."

Johnathan blinks as if still trying to compute this new development. He looks over to Edward who has gone uncharacteristically quiet.

Edward's face was a deep shade of red and his eyes were as wide as saucers. Riddler.exe has stopped working, good luck trying to reboot.

BTAS Riddler:

"Harley, hitting the toy with a mallet won't help you solve it…"

"Sure it can! It fixed all my other problems!" Harley wounds back with her signature mallet. Before she can strike the puzzle toy, Edward snatches it out of the mallet's path.

"Harley..that's cheating…"

"C'mon, Eddie! I've already tried everything! It's like Y/N sleeping with you! It's impossible!"

"Well not…impossible…" You mutter.

"Did I hear that right, N/N? You'd sleep with Ed?!"

"I mean yeah he's an obnoxious know-it-all, but he's so adorable!"

Harley fake hurls at your admission.

Meanwhile Ed is walking away, lowering his hat to try and hide his reddening face from the both of you.

#zero year riddler x reader #capullo riddler x reader #arkhamverse riddler x reader #btas riddler x reader #batman the animated series riddler x reader #ri writes

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mercuryandmoonpods · 1 year

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✨12 Podcasts for 12 Days of Podmas ✨

a belated podmas post from me, asha!

thanks to @vestaclinicpod for coming up with the idea, it's genius! <3

in no particular order, the podcasts I reviewed (and a link to their spotify/podchaser when I rb this later):

SPIRIT BOX RADIO @spiritboxradio: Absolutely charming! I'm now very attached to the main cast of characters, and the overall tone of the show is (pardon the pun) bewitching! Plus gorgeous music that loops in my head constantly when I'm not listening!

MONSTROUS AGONIES @monstrousagonies: An agony column for 'creatures of the night'? What a brilliant concept! Monstrous Agonies manages to be oftentimes soothing, funny and heart-wrenching all in the space of an episode! It has swiftly become a favourite of mine and stands to stay that way.

THE PASITHEA POWDER @pasitheapowder: Complex, unique storytelling methods and a plot that unravels deliciously. I'm constantly on the edge of my seat! The intense relationships between the main characters (Sophie and Jane, but also them and Evelyn and Jane with George to name just a few) all feel very realistic and I can't wait to see what happens next!

THE STRANGE CASE OF STARSHIP IRIS @iriscasefiles: Never fails to cheer me up! Complex and compelling characters, delightful sci-fi setting and concept of an alien culture. At this point I think I've recommended TSCOSI to everyone I know at least twice. Sad? Starship Iris. Happy? Starship Iris. Not sure yet? Starship Irisss!

UNSEEN @unseendotshow: Seemingly standalone stories build up a rich lore for the world of the podcast. Always a delight! Each episode adds a new layer/type of story to consider, and the voice work is always jaw-dropping.

ROGUEMAKER @roguemaker: Super fast paced, does NOT pull its punches. I need the songs to be on spotify by themselves so I can listen on repeat because they're so so beautiful! Dynamic, intriguing and most importantly, very very enjoyable! <3

NIGHT SHIFT @nightshiftpodcast: Phenomenal audio work! A treat for your ears :) the world of the podcast is one almost like our own, but just a step or two to the left, making for highly entertaining listening as we (and Seb) learn the secrets of Echor City. I'm very excited to see where season two takes us!

BODIES IN SPACE @bodiesinspacepod: Very funny and very heartfelt! Delightful protagonists, each with their own thing going on that we get to find out about over the course of the show. Really lovely sound work!

SOMEONE DIES IN THIS ELEVATOR @sditepod: Every single episode blows me away! I dread the day I get properly up to date and have no more to just casually rip my heart out on an otherwise average afternoon :') Consistently stellar writing, and you'd be surprised by just how many ways someone can die in an elevator…

MABEL @mabelpodcast: How to even begin to describe this rollercoaster of a story?! I devoured this podcast. The style is hard to pinpoint but unique, refreshing and absolutely enthralling. If you like fae horror and fantastic sound design, Mabel is right up your alley!

ME AND AU @meandaupod: I find myself returning to Me and AU frequently, because the characters are just so sweet! A truly delightful show, I'd recommend it to anyone who has spent any time in a fandom - especially a tiny one! The experience is well represented here :))

CHAPTER AND MULTIVERSE: The characters of Masks are going to live in my heart for a long time! The players and GM bounce off one another very well, making for deliciously complex relationships between their characters, who are all, in their own ways, really very sweet. Tonally each episode balances the serious with the sweet in a way that I find lovely to listen to :)

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miitgaanar · 4 months

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The Howling

It's me! Again! When will someone nail my hands to the floor so I can't write self-indulgent garbage ever again!

Anyway, this idea was born of the hypothetical plot point I rambled on about many months ago in this post. It's haunted me ever since. Don't ask me if this is something that really happens in my little continuity. I genuinely haven't decided if this is a What If or concrete fact.

I don't suggest reading this. But, then again, I never suggest reading anything I write <3

***

The training grounds. One hour.

The summons had been concise, almost curt in its brevity. The chosen parchment had yellowed with age, the edges wrinkled and torn as if it had been thoughtlessly ripped from an old tome. It had been left on her cot and folded over twice, likely to hide the simple message from prying eyes. No name accompanied the words scratched onto the page, nor a wax seal to identify its sender—but it was hardly needed. It never was.

He was already there when Addilyn Theron stepped onto the stone path leading to the training grounds, his long golden hair shimmering dully in the pale light of the moon. Night had long since fallen over the city of Durlyne, the sky dark and clear of clouds. A brilliant display of stars shone unimpeded from the heavens, countless in their number, rendering the lamplights lining the temple grounds superfluous in their placement.

It was little surprise that Lemuel Adelier’s gaze remained skyward as she approached.

“Sir?” Addilyn ventured, watching him. He was hunched forward, leaning against the waist-high stone wall that separated the training grounds from the surrounding pathways, his forearms braced atop the rough-hewn surface. He was still in uniform, though his plate armor had been removed. Odd, considering the late hour. “You asked to see me?”

Lemuel hummed in response, seemingly unsurprised by her appearance. “How was the patrol this evening?”

Straight to business, then. She resisted the urge to sigh. “Fine, sir,” she said, coming to stand alongside him. “Just the usual rabble.”

“Is that so?” he said flatly. His eyes remained fixed on the moon, his features schooled into a mask of cool indifference. “Bloodied your blade on your own bowels then, did you?”

Addilyn cringed, cursing softly under her breath. She’d hoped that more important matters had garnered his attention, but little escaped his notice lately, especially where she was concerned. It made what solace she still found in his presence seem thin and brittle.

“It was nothing, sir,” she insisted, averting her gaze to the ground. “Just an unruly band of Geffie. We put them down easy enough.”

Her skin prickled as Lemuel’s attention finally turned to her, his scrutiny nigh unbearable. She remained silent, unmoving in the face of his unspoken accusation. A Semon’s blood had indeed stained her sword that evening, the man part of a gang of Gefendur intent on burning down a Ssaelit owned market stall. They’d been dealt with swiftly and ruthlessly, but such was the daily life of a Lion these days. Blood flowed easier than water within Durlyne.

And yet a cold dread pooled within the depths of her belly. No one had seen her cut down the Semon, only the crimson gore that drenched her blade in the aftermath. No one had noticed the flash of recognition in the man’s dark eyes as he met her gaze, the realization of who he’d stumbled upon dawning just a moment too late.

Lemuel couldn’t know that the Lioness had slaughtered yet another huntsman intent on her hide. She’d made sure of it, killing the warning shout that sat upon his tongue before it could be given life.

“Addie,” Lemuel said quietly, wearily. “You can’t keep on like this.”

“Keep on like what?” Addilyn rolled her shoulders, all professional pretense forgotten. “It was a routine patrol. You’d have done no differently.”

“This isn’t about the patrol.” He sighed heavily, the shadow of annoyance beginning to creep into his words. He pinched at the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply before he continued, his voice soft and near inaudible. “The wolves are closing in. By God, I can feel them nipping at our heels even now.”

“What are you talking about?” She glanced his way, the familiar claws of trepidation digging into her chest. “Lem, what’s all this about?”

Lemuel sighed again, turning to face her fully. There was a strange look about him; his jaw set, his gaze unflinching. As if he had steeled himself for some long awaited battle. “Have you ever thought of taking the Third Option, Addie?”

“Taking th—?” An incredulous laugh escaped her then, the sound sharp and grating in the tranquil silence. She looked up at him in utter disbelief, waiting for the derisive smirk to take shape, to hear the rumbling chuckle that always accompanied his playful jibes. ‘You’re so serious of late, Theron,’ he would say, his golden eyes alight with mirth. ‘We truly must do something about that.’

But the laughter never came. His lips remained a thin line, the corners dipped downward in the beginnings of a frown, his aureate eyes harder than the stone beneath their feet.

“Y—You can’t be serious,” Addilyn said, her laughter petering out into a pathetic wince. “Why would I ever consider that?”

“The Gefendur still hunt you,” Lemuel said gravely. “They still call for your head. Each time you step outside the temple gates, you take your life into your own hands. And it’s only a matter of time before their demands reach the Lions, then even this precarious haven will have been lost to you.” His eyes softened but a fraction. “It could mean security for you. Safety. Protection under the law from both your own faith and theirs.”

“They’d never allow it.” Desperation clawed its way up her throat, undercutting the otherwise insouciant declaration. He couldn’t truly think this was the right path for her. The only path. “I’m no wright. They know I’ve no talent for spellery. They’d have no use for me.”

“You’re a good soldier,” Lemuel reasoned. He said it with such conviction, such genuine affection. It was enough to cleave her heart in two. “You have fought and bled and killed in the name of Ssael. You know how desperate we are for seasoned Ssaelit soldiers, men willing to hold the line against our impending slaughter. It’s reason enough to push the request through.”

“And what about me?” she snapped. “What would happen to me? You know what the oath calls for, what it would mean for me. For—” She choked on the word. “For us.”

He looked away from her then, his features shuttered once more. “You’ve no protectors left, Addie. That you’ve lived as you have for this long is a miracle in itself.”

“And so I must kill Addilyn Theron?” The words were sharp, venomous, each one a viper’s bite plunged into flesh. “After everything she has accomplished? After everything she has overcome?” She scoffed, forcing the indignation to crush the despair blooming within her. “You’ve always preached how we can’t give in to them, that to do so is to die a slow death under their heel. And now you propose I do exactly that.”

“I propose you live.” Lemuel rounded on her, his frustration boiling over at last. Addilyn did not so much as flinch. “And if Addilyn Theron must cease to exist to ensure your survival, that should be a small price to pay.” He loomed over her, the moon’s faint glow casting his face in deep, menacing shadow. “The Geffies will not grant you a swift death. I’ve heard the whispers, the plans they have for you. You’d be tortured, defiled, paraded about for all to see. An example made of you, a promise of what is to come for us all should they achieve their loftiest goals.”

A trickle of fear began to seep into her veins, her blood running cold at the imagery put forth—though she continued to hold his gaze, her chin held high.

“Were you to bleed out in the street with a poisoned blade buried in your chest,” he rumbled, “it would be a mercy compared to what awaits you at their hands.”

“You ask me to die a slow death either way,” she said firmly, undaunted. “That one is seemingly bloodless does not make it any less agonizing.”

“You are a liability as you are, Addilyn,” he spat, pounding his fist atop the stone wall with a dull thud. At that, she flinched. “To both Ssaelism and to Alderode. The Lions have been keenly aware of this from the start. Your only true protection laid in the word of a Geffie Copper, and he has remained silent despite the encroaching scourge. The Lions had not dared anger him, fearing Gefendur retribution, but without his looming shadow there is nothing to keep them from ousting you.”

A beat passed, one in which Addiyn felt an acute sadness settle upon her shoulders. After all this time, after everything they'd endured, she never thought he would be the one to come to her with this.

“You can’t ask this of me,” she whispered, her hands clenching into tight fists at her sides. It was the only way she could hide how they trembled. “You can’t ask me to throw my entire life away. To kill the woman that I am in the name of survival. I can't live that lie.”

“Think beyond yourself, Addie,” he pleaded, a sudden softness overtaking him. “Civil war looms, and we cannot afford even the smallest crack in our armor when they come for us. We need you, I need you—but not as you are now.”

Addilyn recoiled as if slapped. Lemuel’s brow furrowed in—apology? Sympathy? She couldn’t tell. She didn’t much care either.

“Sacrifices must be made if we are to survive,” he continued. “Ssael asks much of us at His altar in this crusade.”

“And I am to be the sacrificial lamb.” A small, derisive laugh burst forth unbidden, and Addilyn shifted to hunch forward over the stone wall, her palms flat against the rough surface. The stone was cool to the touch, a balm against her feverish skin. Out of the corner of her eye, she would swear she saw Lemuel flinch. “How poetic.”

“Addilyn—”

“If Ssael cannot accept me as I am,” she cut him off, a steely resolve taking root within her, “if His followers cannot see the injustice in this, then what use would there be in such a compromise? If the Gefendur truly want me dead, a pitiful oath will not stop them. And I'll have flayed myself alive for nothing.”

“Don’t be foolish, Addilyn,” Lemuel warned.

“I won’t take the Third Option, Lem.” There was a note of finality to her voice. She could abide this torment no longer. “I won’t bind my chest and tie another unhappy woman into an unhappy marriage. I am well aware of the expectations tied to that oath, as well as the scrutiny that comes in the aftermath. I would drive myself mad with despair, with grief at what I had discarded.” She glanced sidelong at him, desperate for him to understand. “Why add to the weight of Alderode’s boot upon my back when the end result will be the same? It’s heavy enough as it is.”

Silence descended, thicker than even the densest fog. It felt impenetrable, a chasm opening between them. A sharp pang of sorrow twisted at her heart, leaving her vision blurry with unshed tears. She didn’t know what pained her the most: that he had asked this of her, knowing what it entailed, what it meant for her—for them; or that it seemed, even now, she was simply not enough.

Lemuel’s shoulders sagged, an air of resignation about him. He ran a hand through his golden hair, the strands near silver beneath the night sky. His face was unreadable, an emotion she could not quite place crossing his features. It made something within her squirm, an unfamiliar disquiet clenching at her gut.

Lemuel looked toward the training grounds, and there was the slightest crack in that unreadable facade. “This was where we first met,” he said, a sad smile pulling at his lips, a faraway look in his eyes.

Addilyn’s gaze followed his own, falling upon the practice staves and shields littered about the ground. A terrible melancholy fell over her.

“To think,” she began, her voice little more than a whisper, “that you’d still be fighting to be rid of me all these years later.”

Lemuel simply hummed, moving to stand behind her. The air was still and crisp, the bite of a quickly fading winter evident. There was a familiar comfort in this, in having him at her back. Solid, warm, safe.

A hand came to rest at her hip. She could feel each breath, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She allowed herself to lean back against him, to indulge in this moment. To forget the wolves that sat ready to tear her asunder, if only for this instance.

His lips brushed the top of her head, an uncharacteristically tender gesture. The sensation sent a pleasant shiver skittering down her spine.

And then he spoke, the words soft and entreating—and filled with a grief she’d never once heard pass his lips. “Dan paesabi, da lledeol.”

It happened so quickly. An immense pressure at her neck. The stone wall digging into her pelvis. Lemuel’s weight at her back, pushing her forward. Trapping her. Restraining her.

Addilyn clawed at the arm around her neck, only to be met with the thick leather of his riding gloves, her nails cracking and splintering against the well-tended armor. She could find no purchase on the ground, no leverage to break his hold. Her legs were pinned against the waist-high wall, held in place by Lemuel’s considerable strength.

And it was only then, as her vision began to fade, the dark abyss of unconsciousness rushing forward to claim her, that she realized Lemuel Adelier had betrayed her.

#oc: Addilyn Theron #otp: rewrite this story #Lemuel Adelier #unsounded #writings from mandalore #SOME of the shit in this slaps #but they are as fleeting as a cherry blossom~

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thecrossoverwriter15 · 8 months

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I'm Sorry I Wasn't Strong Enough - ROTTMNT ANGSTY Oneshot

After watching The ROTTMNT Movie, I had to write a little angsty oneshot. This is set in the Krang Apocalypse which means PAIN will be present in this story. I guess this is considered a spoiler, so yeah, if you haven't since the movie and don't want to be spoiled, CLICK OFF!!

Music recommended:

Now that that's out of the way, let's get into this! One last thing, GET TISSUES, we're going down that rabbithole..

———————————————————————

“And behold. From their perch atop New York City. The Krang ripped open the sky itself. What came out was terror and what rained down upon us was worst than death.”

It has been a few months since the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles had destroyed the Kraang’s corrupt regime and future decimation, yet Casey still felt a sense of dread. Perhaps he was just struggling with the fact that he was in a whole new world, maybe it was just another crappy day, he didn’t know. While sitting on his new room Leo had given him, he contemplated on what to do about this strained feeling. Of course, Leo! He remembered, whenever he was struggling with a situation, he would talk with Master Leonardo. Talking with a friend or father usually helps with stress. With that, he decided to ask the brothers for a chat alone in the living room,

“Thanks for being here, guys,” Casey’s morose voice rang out. The four brothers sat on the couch, nodding with caring smiles.

“Casey, we’re always here for you. What’s going on?” Leo asked. Mikey jumped onto Casey’s side of the couch, asking in concern,

“Yeah, is everything okay?? If you ate a bad slice of pizza, I’m sorry! Oh my god, you did, didn’t you! I’m sorry! I swear, I didn’t mean-“

“No, no, no Mikey. It’s not that.”

“Whew!” Mikey sighed. Donnie rolled his eyes.

Casey took a deep breath, “Remember when I told you about yourselves in the future, but couldn’t finish when we arrived at Metro Tower?”

“Yeah?” Raph said.

“Well, I’ve been wanting to tell you what really happened. Just promise that it won’t affect our friendship, okay?”

“It won’t. We’re a family, a team. Whatever you say, we’ll understand.” Raph reassured.

“See…” Casey turned away and closed his eyes, “you die.”

Leo turned towards the floor in sadness, Mikey slightly gasped, Donnie’s expression turned to concern as his eyes grew and Raph gasped.

“W-what? How?” Donnie gasped.

“Donnie, when I said that you were the most innovated mind of all time? Well, you were. When Master Leonardo and I were trapped in a cave or in danger, you would use your brilliant ideas and tech to get out of it! You would use your tech to fix machines in the lair, or just make Master Leonardo trip on his own shell.”

Leo chuckled, “Just like Donnie!”

“Not helping, Nardo.” The Soft-shell groaned, before continuing, “So, what happened?”

Casey sighed as his eyes closed…

NEW YORK (2023)

“Casey, we need to retreat!” Master Leonardo shouted to the young Casey Jones who was finishing off a Krang monster. As the razor-covered hockey stick sliced through the monster’s guts, Casey turned around.

“But, we can take them!”

“Casey, listen to me. We’re outnumbered.” Master Leonardo started. The young teenager sighed and let his head sag in defeat, “I just want to save the world.”

The elder put his metal arm on Casey’s shoulder, “I know you do, but we have to focus on here and now.” Before tuning into his comn, “Donnie, can you find a way out of this?”

A particular Soft-shell turtle’s voice rang through the , “You bet I can! Meet me at the Lair. All of—“

Donnie’s voice went flat.

Leo’s heart started to race, “Donnie?”

Nothing.

“Wait, What happened? Where is he?” Casey asked with concern. When he got no answer, the teenager looked towards the broken city where Donnie last was. His face harden, he wasn’t about to lose another brother. Leo looked up at determined scholar with wide eyes, “Case?”

Casey Jones Jr. suddenly began to race towards the desolated carnage that was once their city.

“CASEY WAIT!” Master Leonardo shouted, just as a large explosion knocked him off his feet. He rolled a bit on the dirt, before conveniently hitting his head on a large stone. As his sight blackened out, he saw his scholar’s tiny slliouette racing towards the city on a mission of determination..

Casey had made it into the obliterated wreckage. Collapsed piles of brick, concrete and wood laid in rows on the earth. The building that were left had deteriorated, leaving cracks and a quite an unpleasant smell around the area. The air was unusually heavy, making Casey’s heart beat even faster. The teenager looked around, hoping to drive his attention away from the looming notion that something bad had happened to his brother. Maybe Master Donatello found shelter and hid, perhaps he fought off the Krang with everything he got, cracked a joke! Casey chuckled, Master Dee always played pranks on Master Leonardo and Michaelangelo. And he will when they get back, he just needed to find him. Casey’s thoughts scattered away when he saw the very thing he dreaded.

Leaning against a large stone and clutching his wound was Master Donatello. Each breath seems to be a struggle as his paling body produced more and more blood.

“No, NO NO NO NO!” Casey denied the sight and ran towards his brother and uncle, falling into his knees and clutching his face in his hands, “Hey, hey. It’s ok. Just deep breaths,” Casey whispered, hoping to comfort him despite the intense pain.

Donnie only looked at him, not having the courage to lift his hand to wipe the small stream of blood that dripped down the corner of his mouth. Speaking of blood, the hole in his stomach continued to pump out squirts of blood, staining his pants and broken plastron. Casey proceed to look down at the wound as Donnie pulled his hand away. The large hole was cut straight through the soft shell and plastron, creating a yucky mess of blood and other things Casey didn’t want to know about. His eyes diverted back to Donnie, sadness blanked them.

“Okay. No worries, Master Dee. I’ll call your brother.” He blurted out and yelled into his comlink, “MASTER LEONARDO! COME IN! MASTER?!”

Thankfully, Leonardo’s spunky voice answered, “Casey, Casey! Where are you?”

“I’m in the city with Master Donatello. He’s hurt really bad. He’s bleeding a lot and is turning pale.”

Leo’s heart almost stopped, “Listen to me, I need you to apply pressure on the wound. Make sure that he stays awake. We’re on our way.”

“Copy that.” Casey strongly replied, turning off his communicator and grabbed a towel from his bag. While he was unraveling it, Donnie painfully whispered, “Case?”

“Yes Master?”

Donnie let out a bloody cough and attempted to clear his throat, “I feel light.”

Casey looked up in fear, then back down at the towel, “Just keep talking. What’s it like?”

“I don’t feel any pain anymore.”

“I’m glad.” Casey replied. His voice was quick, “Look, Master Dee, I need to put this on the wound, so it might hurt.”

Donnie nodded. The teen slowly put the towel on the wound. With seconds, the towels begin soaking up the blood like a sponge. This was not good. With a growing panic, Casey began to scramble around, looking for something, anything to cover the hole. His eyes brighten as he found a needle and thread. He could stitch the wound, then they’ll find Master Leonardo and get Master Donatello to a Med Bay. When he crawled to Dee to tell him that he found something, his brows fused together in confusion. Donnie’s face was white as snow, his lips were a tint of greyish-blue. The blood that had soaked up was dry and dark. What’s worst of all, his eyes were party opened, with a relaxed expression on his face.

“Master Dee?” Casey asked, slightly shaking him. There was no answer. The teen tried again, “Master Donatello?”

When Casey went to shake him again, Donnie’s lax body fell sideways towards the ground, causing the boy to grasp his shoulders and neck. He gently set Donnie’s head in his arms, turning it so the turtle looked at him.

“Donnie, c’mon, this isn’t funny.” Casey said with slight frustration in his voice. Yet, the Softshell’s expression didn’t budge. Casey’s nose began to radiate a bright red as his eyes stung, “Please? Donnie?”

Once again, the lax body didn’t move. Casey was almost too scared to move him in case the stone cold arms cracked like glass. Despite the resistance, he gently set the body onto the floor, making sure not to move him too much. Once the corpse had been set on the floor is when Casey really started to break down. His broken and unclear voice whispered apologies and loving words as his mind accepted the loss. He couldn’t take it anymore and proceeded to rest his forehead against the still chest and hold the hand one more time. Desperate sobs and slight screams left his mouth just as Master Leonardo, Michelangelo and the Resistance arrived. Leo and Mikey’s eyes grew when they saw the sight, with Leo kneeling down. He set his hand on Casey’s shoulder.

He didn’t want to say anything that would hurt his young apprentice even more and softly asked, “Is he gone?”

Casey looked up, his eyes red and puffy. When he saw his master, he nodded with a whine. Leo’s eyes began to grow with tears as he wrapped his arms around his child, holding him to his chest, “I know. I know. I know it hurt, but you were so strong for him. You held it together. He knew it was time. I’m sure he was glad to be with you.”

Casey sobbed into Leo’s plastron, “But, he’s gone. He’s gone, he’s gone.”

“I know,” Leo’s voice cracked, “But you helped him. I love you so much and we’re going to get through this.”

“Leo, he was happy. He wasn’t in any pain.”

That sentence nearly made Leo break down. The two looked at the body and saw Mikey hugging the head into his shoulder. The Box Turtle sniffled, “He’s cold. I don’t want to leave him here.”

Leo sniffled once more and grabbed his cape, “Can you wrap him in this?”

“Of course. I think you should say goodbye first.”

The Red-Eared Slider let out a breath and sat down next to his brother, rubbing his head and holding his hand, “I love you so much. Don’t ever forget that Dee. I know you want me to continue and that’s just what I’ll do. I promise I’ll take care of Casey, April, Mikey and the rest and you go tell Raph about your crazy adventures. I love you.” and gave one last loving kiss on his brother’s head. Leo, Mikey and Casey all helped wrap Donnie’s body in the blanket like a baby. Casey sniffled as he covered the Softshell Turtle’s face and got up. Leo proceeded to put his arms underneath the body’s head and knees and carry him out of the area and into the light…

PRESENT DAY

Donnie let his tears fall as Casey finished the heartbreaking story. Mikey clung into him like glue while Raph and Leo listened. Casey sighed as he finished. After a few moments, Donnie sniffed, “I’m glad you told me, Casey.” and got up, walking to his office where he sat in the chair and cried for a long time.

WHAT HAVE I DONE?

That’s all folks. I said pain and I delivered. I really hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to my room to have a mental breakdown on what I just wrote.

#rottmnt #rottmnt season 3 #i’m so sorry #rottmnt krang

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xtruss · 11 months

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Eurasian magpies typically build their nests from thorny branches, but some birds have discovered anti-bird spikes work just as well—if not better. Photograph By Auke Florian Hiemstra

'The Perfect Revenge'? Birds are Building Fortresses From Anti-bird Spikes

Despite a plethora of products designed to keep birds off buildings, our feathered friends are sending a clear message: Nice try.

— By Jason Bittel | July 17, 2023

In an example of “The Perfect Revenge,” European birds are ripping anti-bird barbs off buildings and using them to build armored nurseries for their chicks, scientists say.

“They take the stuff we use to try to deter birds, and they make a nest out of it, and then make more birds,” says Auke-Florian Hiemstra, a biologist at Naturalis Biodiversity Center in the Netherlands and lead author of a study on the phenomenon published this month in Deinsea, the online journal of the National History Museum Rotterdam.

“That’s just a brilliant way to fight the system. Nice to see some birds fighting back.”

While birds are a common urban neighbor, city residents don’t always appreciate the droppings and nesting materials our feathered friends leave behind. This has spurred an entire industry of products designed to keep birds off human infrastructure, such as light displays, netting, and even sharp metal spikes.

However, a new study shows that not only are some birds unbothered by long strips of barbs, but they’re actually ripping the skewers off buildings and using them to build armored nurseries for their chicks.

In the Netherlands, two instances so far show that carrion crows coiled the strips so that the spikes faced inward, possibly serving as a base for the nest and helping to bind other nesting materials, such as twigs and dry leaves.

Scientists want to know if these nests (Pictured, One Found in Antwerp, Belgium) are better at protecting chicks than those without spikes. Photograph By Auke Florian Hiemstra

Eurasian magpies, on the other hand, build nests with a roof. “Magpies are very worried about crows stealing their eggs and young, so to protect them, they make this dome,” says Hiemstra. “They can fly multiple kilometers trying to look for material. However, in cities, there’s not a lot thorny branches around.”

Perhaps this is why, in three separate instances described between 2021 and 2023 from the Netherlands, Belgium, and Scotland, Hiemstra found magpie nests that incorporated anti-bird spikes in the top of the dome. And this is intriguing, because magpies typically construct their roofs out of hawthorn, blackthorn, and rose stems.

In other words, it seems the magpies are not treating the anti-bird strips as just another building material. They’re using the spikes as spikes.

If true, it would be the first such documentation of its kind.

'Magpies are Nuts'

To be clear, birds build nests from human-made objects all the time. Hiemstra has personally seen nests from various species made out of everything from windshield wipers and headphones to hypodermic needles, cocaine packaging, and condoms.

“So even the wild side of Amsterdam, you will see reflected in the bird nests,” he says. “Almost anything can become nesting material.”

However, for his new research, Hiemstra dived into the scientific literature to find examples of corvids using anti-bird spikes. The first recorded example of this behavior appears to be from 2009 in Rotterdam, but overall the scientists gathered five instances in three countries.

“So even the wild side of Amsterdam, you will see reflected in the bird nests,” he says. “Almost anything can become nesting material.”

It has also been previously documented that some species, such as cockatoos in Australia, will actively rip anti-bird spikes from their moorings.

This strip of anti-bird spikes was taken from a nest in Antwerp, Belgium. Photograph By Auke Florian Hiemstra

However, what makes this new study different is the idea that the magpies, especially, may be using the anti-bird spikes in a functional capacity.

“I’ve seen birds who built on top of the spikes,” which are also used in the U.S., says Karina Sanchez, an urban ecologist at the University of New Hampshire not involved in the study. “But this was my first time seeing the spikes being yanked off of the structure and used in nests.”

Sanchez says she’s not surprised about the species involved. “Magpies are Nuts,” she laughs. “Their nests are very elaborate. We used to call them ‘condos.’”

While the photos included in the study are “somewhat convincing,” Sanchez says that right now, the idea that magpies might be using the spikes functionally is “still kind of anecdotal.”

For one, the behavior has only been documented a handful of times. And two, it would require further experimentation to prove that the magpies recognize the human-made materials as being similar in function to natural materials, such as thorny branches.

At the same time, Sanchez says, “I don’t see why that wouldn’t be a possibility.”

According to Hiemstra, the next step will be to design experiments that can figure out if thorny materials help magpies raise more chicks. Then, they’d want to see if anti-bird spikes produce similar, or maybe even better results.

Do Animals Feel Revenge?

The study comes among two recent examples of wildlife messing with people—an otter stealing surfboards in California and a spate of incidents in which orcas are attacking boats in Europe. These incidents have spurred headlines that wildlife is finally fed up with people.

Of course, scientists can’t say—yet—whether an animal actually feels revenge, Hiemstra says.

“If the birds themselves understand the irony of the whole situation, that is of course, impossible to say. But corvids do understand a lot, are real problem solvers, recognize themselves in mirrors, [and] understand tool use,” he says.

And it’s indisputable that wildlife have figured out how to live among us, especially in cities.

“It’s really sad that we’re fighting our urban wildlife so actively,” says Hiemstra, “while actually, it’s quite beautiful that these animals are living in cities, just like us.”

“So I would really like the people to embrace that urban wildlife, instead of fighting it with bird spikes.”

#The National Geographic #Birds’ Fortresses #Anti-bird Spikes #The Perfect Revenge #European Birds #Armored Nurseries #Biologist Auke-Florian Hiemstra #Naturalis Biodiversity Center The Netherlands 🇳🇱#National History Museum Rotterdam #Netting & Sharp Metal Spikes #Eurasian Magpies #Netherlands 🇳🇱 Belgium 🇧🇪 and Scotland 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿#Hawthorn Blackthorn and Rose Stems.#Amsterdam | Rotterdam #Cockatoos #Australia 🇦🇺#Karina Sanchez #University of New Hampshire USA 🇺🇸#California

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sofiiel · 11 months

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CH. 27 | Stricken Warnings: Gore

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Myrtle took in the sight before her. In this familiar decaying world the air was heavy feeling as if a toxic fume. It made her lungs cold and her nostrils sting, then again, maybe that was the strange spores that littered the air.

"It's like we just stepped in a refrigerator that had food left in it for fifty years." Amy muttered rubbing her arms. "It is cold as shit in here," she grumbled.

Angel's eyes scanned the area carefully, watchfully. "We need to be careful." He lulled, replacing Myrtle's arm over his shoulders, his hand wrapping around her middle to support her.

"Don't you think she needs a rest?" Amy asked.

"If we stop, it'll only subject her to this place longer," Angel reasoned. Amy did not protest, she watched Myrtle quietly, the color was slowly starting to drain from her face and breathing seemed difficult for her.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right," Amy murmured, following slightly behind the two to watch their flank.

"It's a whole city down in here...." Myrtle said, looking about, "or the ruins of one."

"It's a mirror image of the one above us, or so that's what he says." Angel spoke quietly.

"Wait...why are you so quiet?" Myrtle asked. Angel's arm gave her waist a squeeze, and his eyes narrowed into a glare ahead of them.

Instead of answering, he nodded his chin forward. Myrtle's eyes noticed the pack of figures slowly approaching up the road.

"Oh shit." Amy exhaled, peeking between Angel and Myrtle.

"Take her," Angel stated, slipping Myrtle away from him.

Amy was quick to offer Myrtle her support to stand.

"You can't take those on alone." Myrtle said. A lopsided grin fixed to Angel's face as he took a wide stance to hold his ground.

"I can here." He laughed deeply.

"Is this where they came from?" Amy asked, watching the monstrous canines.

With a twisted whimper, the canines rose slowly into the air. Angel held out both hands raising them to the sky. The veins of his arms raised above the skin in a ghostly blue beneath pale skin, they constricted as they strained.

"Whoa," Amy murmured, watching the creatures float above them.

Angel's eyes narrowed, and he released a guttural scream, a roar which held an almost musical quality. Myrtle could feel the air ripple and the wet sound of splitting flesh. She jumped at the sudden sound of rushing, blood pouring from the sky.

She and Amy watched as blood and entrails splattered across the decaying pavement. The vines across the ground writhed about as if in agony, twisting and curling as they convulsed.

"Oh god." Myrtle breathed, covering her mouth, the scene was too much for her empty stomach to handle. She fled away from Amy to the side of the road, purging mucus and acid from her belly before falling into a series of dry heaves.

"Brilliant idea, you couldn't do that....cleaner?" Amy asked Angel as he tilted his head sharply. The action caused what remained of the levitating creatures to crack loudly, bones distorting before falling to the ground.

"Ewww." Amy shuddered, "uh, that sound." she complained, Unable to take her eyes off of the creatures which had been ripped open, flayed like fish.

Angel smirked down, happy with his handy work;. He took a moment to take it in before turning on his heel and heading for Myrtle.

Myrtle held her stomach and wiped her mouth clean.

Angel watched her quietly, standing behind her waiting. "Sorry." he offered, though it hardly sounded genuine. It was as if he couldn't understand why it made the two girls so sick and unsettled at all.

Myrtle turned to face him, Angel watching her as if expecting something to happen. When she offered a strained smile, his eyes grew wide.

"No, it worked, right? Thank you. I couldn't have gotten rid of them, Amy, neither." Myrtle turned to look at the bloody mess on the pavement.

She gulped back the urge to vomit again.

"I'm so sick of seeing those things, I can't even feel sorry for them." she said, turning her attention back to Angel. "No matter how frightening, that was kind of amazing to see," she admitted.

A smile inched gradually across Angel's face, and his eyes held a pleased shimmer as he looked down at her. "Let's keep going." He said, holding his hand out to Myrtle.

She took it, noting how cold his hand felt. "Are you ok?" Myrtle asked.

Angel looked down at his hand, "they're always that way." he said, swinging her arm over his shoulders.

"Let's hope we find a hole out of here or something soon." Amy said as they walked back towards her.

"I haven't seen any so far, but if those things were around, it might mean they found something," said Angel.

The three continued on up the dark streets, feet squelching as they were forced to reverse over the creature mush in the road.

It was quiet in the old factory, Mick, Doris, and Funshine posted on guard at the windows while everyone tried their best to find sleep. The sun set and night had fallen. It was safe to say everyone was exhausted. Even the concrete floors didn't make too terrible of a bed.

Eddie lay on his back, fingers laced together as his hands rested on his stomach. His eyes gazed into the fresh night from the hole in the roof above him.

"You'd better be giving your left arm to keep her safe." Eddie thought with Angel in mind.

Whatever their past, Angel was always the strong one, and that thought gave some speck of comfort between the doubt and worry filling Eddie's mind.

Lifting his wrist to his face, Eddie looked at his watch for the tenth time, sighed, and laced his hands back in place.

"You'll make yourself sick. Time still works the same, you know. Five minutes won't magically mean fifty minutes." Gail teased, but her voice was hardly playful as she went to lay down at Eddie's side.

His hand reached for hers, a habit he'd formed when seeking comfort.

The two of them watched the stars. Gail took in a deep breath and then exhaled. "You know," she started quietly, "We'll get her back, right?" Gail asked, turning her head to look at him.

Eddie turned his head to look at her, and at that moment he'd looked so pitiful it nearly took her breath away.

"I can't stop thinking, what if this is just a repeat?" Eddie questioned, turning to look back at the sky. "To be the one who did nothing all over again?" He sang bitterly.

Eddie's eyes narrowed at the sky, "it's worse this time, 'cause I had a good run where I could be there every time. I've never had anyone look at me the way she does when I arrive." Eddie murmured.

Gail's eyes studied the profile of Eddie's face, "and how's that?" She asked.

A bitter smile tilted onto his face, his chest heaved as he sighed and then chuckled to himself. "It's kind of embarrassing to say." He said, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks.

"Eddie? I've seen that bald spot your dad buzzed into the back of your head back in middle school. Embarrassing? With me? Really?" Gail said with a playful squint of scrutiny.

Eddie laughed, "yeah, I guess you're right." He said. Eddie turned to look at her again, "none of this....bothers you?" He asked.

Gail offered a short smile, "tell me how she looks at you." Gail demanded gently.

Eddie looked into Gail's eyes and his head shook slightly, his blush growing brighter. If it hadn't been painful, Gail might have laughed at how silly he looked.

Eddie suddenly side glanced and murmured, "likeI'msomekindofchampion." He said quickly.

Gail thought for a moment, trying her best to put the words apart from each other, but she was failing miserably. "What?" she asked, squinting.

Eddie cleared his throat, "uh...I said she looks at me like I'm an um," the word got stuck in the awkwardness as he tried to clear his throat again, "champion." he said.

Gail laughed, "god, you're still hopeless!"

"Gee, thanks for that. I'm only pouring my heart out to you here." Eddie said dryly.

Gail rolled her eyes, "ever think maybe you should be telling the girl who needs to hear it?" Gail asked.

Eddie fell silent, "even if I had the nerve to, she's not here, is she?" He asked.

Gail trembled at those words, she watched him silently for a moment, heart beating painfully in her chest. "No, you're right." she whispered and in a quick motion, she got to her feet and hurried away.

"Oh...oh, damn it." Eddie thought, sitting up quickly, "Gail!" He called, but she'd already fled to the front door and outside. Eddie held his head in his hands, "because I needed things to be more complicated." He thought.

Looking down, he could see the scarlet guitar pick hanging from the chain around his neck. Eddie grasped it wondering if the time had come to return the pick to Angel, "it's the second time you've been unwilling to make this trade," He thought gripping the pick in his fist. Eddie looked to the door.

Rick came up from behind him and took a seat by Eddie on the floor.

The two friends looked at each other, "Now is as good of time as any, remember - moving forward, it ain't necessarily letting go." said Rick, "that's what memories are for man."

Eddie nodded and then snickered, "huh, guess all that gray finally caused some wisdom to kick in." said Eddie.

Rick tapped his temple, "nah man, that was the Dutchie." he whispered giddily.

Gail burst through the front door suddenly, she pointed over her shoulder, "guys!" she shouted, "There's a payphone ringing on the corner that looks like it hasn't been touched in years." She spoke quickly.

Rick and Eddie hopped to their feet as everyone woke from their sleep or slowly shifted from their guard posts.

"Do you think it's him?" Kali asked.

Doris shrugged, "it could be, well Rick get your hustle on, to the booth!" Doris called, clapping her hands together.

"Don't rush me!" Rick called.

Eddie ran behind him and started to push Rick towards the door.

"The lady says hurry, come on! No time to lose!" Eddie said.

"Hello?" Rick called as he picked up the phone. Surrounding him Eddie, Doris, Kali, Gail, and the boys of Corroded lingered, listening. "This the riddler?" Rick asked cautiously, he could hear someone lingering on the other line in silence.

"I can't talk long, so listen well. Myrtle and the other two are inside the gate, there is a world very much like ours but very different. This place is toxic to miss McKinney and every minute spent there will tick away at her." He said.

Rick glanced back at Eddie and it instantly made him nervous.

"Alright, then how do we get her out?" Rick asked.

"Sometimes there are small gaps in that world, mini gateways, they're rare. But fortunately, I wouldn't waste time with that. If you can somehow make contact with one of them, there might be a chance that the boy can tear open a gate. Alternatively, Myrtle can open a gate herself. In her state, it won't stay open long, and it could harm her to do so. But the alternative is more than just a maybe." said the Riddler.

"H-how do we reach Angel or Myrtle if they are in a different world, exactly?" Rick asked, clearly frustrated.

"You need someone with the ability to tap into their minds. You can also boost Myrtle's power if you can trigger her senses." said the Riddler.

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose, "alright, and how would we go about that?" He asked.

"As Franchesca did, she reacts to those she cares about, though I don't know how that would help if she cannot see any of you, and it would not be pleasant for the volunteer." said the Riddler.

"Great, well, how long do we have to figure this out?" Rick asked.

The Riddler fell silent, "Hello?" Rick asked.

"We have guests." the Riddler said.

"O-oh so do you need to ha-"

"What is always on its way but never arrives? Answer that first, and it will answer your question." the Riddler said quickly before hanging up.

"Hey! Hey wait!" Rick shouted, but he was gone.

"What just happened?" Doris asked.

"Breathe man!" Jeff yelled at Eddie, who stood pale and holding his breath. They gathered around the table in the old factory, listening to Rick repeat what the Riddler had told him.

"I can try and reach Angel, He's the strongest of the three of them. But... I've never tried to enter the thoughts of someone who wasn't on earth? If that's even the situation." Doris said. The whole thing was enough to make her head spin.

Gareth smacked Eddie's back, causing him to release the air from his lungs.

"He said we could boost Myrtle's power, right? If where they are is draining her, maybe a boost will help her survive longer. Like....life support." Kali reasoned.

"That's a good idea, but how do we do that?" Gail said.

"Cattle Prods worked well enough," Axel said.

"Nobody is getting zapped." Jeff snapped.

"Besides, she couldn't see what was going on, it wouldn't do a thing." said Mick.

Gareth gave an excited gasp, "oooo I know!" he called with a grin as he turned to his friends. "Do you guys remember what happened at The Hideout?" he asked.

"We were in the middle of the battle, and she starts clutching her head, the lights and glass in the place busted, and that freaky lightning struck outside," Scott recalled gradually.

"Yes," Gareth said.

A light bulb went off in Kali's head and eyes, "What Myrtle did while at that abandoned house, required multiple forms of psionic energy. Specifically? Many forms of Ergokinesis." Kali said.

"And in lame man's terms?" Gail asked.

"Power to control various forms of energy," said Eddie.

"And you know that how?" Rick asked.

"It's a power some characters have in Dungeons and Dragons" Scott explained.

"He's right, a good way to tap into that power is via sound. When an instrument is played, it generates sound waves, creating Kinetic Energy. Specifically, with music, that energy can be amplified by Emotional Potential Energy. People generally push their emotions through the instrument they play or even their own voice. Instruments are just more powerful at sending it out. This emotional energy can carry across the sound waves." Kali explained.

She'd lost half of the group, but a few still listened intently.

"The combination of sound and empathic energy probably generated a force of energy so heavy it was too much for her and overloaded her capacity to absorb it. Too much pent-up power." Kali continued.

"Many of us with these abilities are clairsentient, it's like next-level empathy." Doris chimed in.

"Which means what exactly?" asked Funshine.

"It means... Myrtle can feel music, feel sound, and feel us." Eddie said, eyes looking over the group. He could feel his heart skip a beat at just the thought of it.

"So we can play to send her a boost?" Scott asked.

"In theory, yes, but that's *if* the speed of sound can carry through to a different dimension. You'd have to get as close as possible to their location on the other side, and we have no way of figuring that out." Doris said.

"So we'd need to go back to the ruined house?" Gail asked.

"That would be better than trying it here, however, we're not sure just where on the other side they are," said Kali.

"I know a guy who might be able to help with that..." Rick muttered, digging into his pockets for change as he ran back out the front door.

"Wait...the riddle about how much time we have?" Gail questioned, she looked at Eddie with apprehension in her eyes, "the answer is Tomorrow." she said.

Eddie quickly looked down at his watch. "9 pm." he muttered.

"We've got just under 3 hours," Jeff whispered.

Eddie's heart was noisy in his chest. "That's not enough time, we need instruments, and amps and power cords and -" Eddie quickly got lost in rambling a list.

"Hey!" Gail shouted, she rested a hand on Eddie's arm, "Tomorrow is vague, ok? So for all we know, it means tomorrow at this same time. 24 hours." Gail tried to reason.

"It could still just as easily mean the new day on the dot." Axel said.

Eddie started to pace and Gail sighed in defeat.

"What do you need? Does it need to be specific or can you guys play on any old thing?" asked Kali.

Eddie crossed his arms and bent slightly forward, his eyes narrowing contemptuously. "I'm hardly picky considering," he said.

"Eddie, simmer down." Gail sighed.

"Why do you ask?" chimed Jeff.

Kali looked to Axel, Mick and Funshine. "Because we can go get what you need. We know the city well, and we're used to looting and hitting up shops." Kali explained.

"Axel and Mick are fast, Funshine will man the car and I...well, I make sure no one sees us doing it." she said.

Axel smirked, "ah, so we get to rob something good this time," he said.

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck and flashed guilty eyes. "Yeah that'd be great actually...um...sorry about that." He murmured.

Mick smirked, "we'll cut you some slack, fuzzy." she hummed.

"I'd be a mess if my girl was trapped and dying in another world too." Axel said with a shrug.

"Axel!" Kali barked as the color drained from Eddie's face and fingertips.

Doris hid her face in her hand, "ugh, real tactful." she muttered.

"I'm sure, she isn't dying yet, man," said Scott.

Eddie's eyes were screaming.

"Let's get a move on." Kali ordered, leading her crew to their van before Axel could say anything more to panic the group.

"Keep your head up, kid." Funshine offered, Eddie nearly fell over as he slap his shoulder in support. The large man didn't know his own strength.

Eddie gave a nod, "yeah...thanks." He said.

"What song?" Gareth asked Eddie who shrugged.

"I don't know, but -" Eddie exhaled and ran for the door, bursting outside he waved his hands about to grab the attention of Kali and the others as they started to leave.

"What?" Axel shouted out the window.

"Music book! Swan Lake! By some... I dunno Russian guy?" Eddie shouted out.

Axel made a face and turned to Kali confused, "you know it?" he asked, she rolled her eyes.

"Just come on, Funshine and I will find it." She murmured. Axel flashed the ok sign with his hand before the van pulled off.

Eddie bit his lip, "let's hope we can pull this together." He thought watching Rick, who was in the phone booth.

"Swan Lake?" Gail asked, stepping up behind him.

Eddie turned back to her and smiled, "the most metal swan lake you'll ever hear" his smile dropped a bit "...uh...hopefully if we can pull it off." Eddie sighed.

Gail smirked a wicked grin, "maybe?" she teased, "have you forgotten who we are?" she asked.

"Corroded Coffin, we're the mother fuckin' shit!" Gail cheered.

Eddie laughed, "right, and we've now got to save our number one fan." Eddie murmured, leading Gail back inside.

"It's a smart idea, here I was expecting you to pick 'we are the champions'" She teased.

Eddie blushed, "shut up - or I just might." he shot.

Myrtle hissed in pain and her legs buckled, "wait, wait. I need to sit down." she panted.

Angel looked up the road with a grimace before looking about. "Nothing seems to be lurking but the vines." he murmured. "Fine."

"Over there that car," Amy said pointing to the blue sedan.

Myrtle's body screamed as Angel lay her down on the hood, the window as her backrest. The now grayish rash had not only spread but thickened, Angel placed a hand at the hem of Myrtle's shirt.

"um, what are you doing?" Amy snapped.

"Checking." Angel said, raising Myrtle's shirt. He scowled as he could see the rash crawling up her stomach.

"It's spreading, everywhere." Amy gasped.

Myrtle looked up at the rolling sky above, no stars, no light, just thick clouds tinted in the grey-blue hue the rest of the world seemed to be lost in. Tears stung at her eyes as her body was nothing but a dull, radiating wave of pain.

Holding up her hand, it looked much like the decaying world around them, only now....

Myrtle's pulse raced as she looked at her fingertips, they'd been replaced by claws, she screamed.

Angel snatched up her hands, "no, no, no, stay quiet!" He hissed, looking around, he could feel things creeping nearer.

"Cut her some slack? Do your eyes even work?" Amy asked. Darkness clouded Angel's eyes as he lifted Myrtle's rough clawed hand and kissed it.

"This is hardly monstrous, I could easily show you a monster." He murmured.

His kiss sent pain through her fingers, and she could not figure out why the strange rash hurt so much.

"My back hurts." Myrtle complained and Amy carefully sat her up.

"Ugh... not to alarm you or anything, but y-you got things growing out of your shoulders." Amy spoke cautiously.

Amy moved her face to get a closer look, four little appendages wiggled as they grew out from the skin, and the four turned to five, five on each shoulder, and then they grew further into, "h-hands!" Amy gasped, jumping back.

"What?!" Myrtle shouted trying to reach around and feel her back, fingers hooked into her hand and Myrtle went to scream once more, but Angel quickly covered her mouth.

Myrtle snatched her hand away from the grasping hand in her back, watching horrified as it grew quickly into a full arm, two of them arching out of her back.

Angel watched with wide eyes before he grinned, "they're lovely." he exhaled.

"Are you nuts." Amy barked.

Myrtle's tears splashed onto Angel's hand as it kept her silent.

"Can you control them?" He asked.

Myrtle closed her eyes tight and focused, the extra hands reached over her shoulders and took hold of Angel's hand, prying it away from Myrtle's mouth.

"Oh my god!" Myrtle cried, body trembling, "I can, they listen to me - what else is going to happen?" her fear was turning into frustration fast. The two extra arms pulled at her hair as her regular arms would have in irritation.

Amy's eyes were like saucers, "I can't go back like this." Myrtle whispered, watching Amy quietly. The look on her friend's face was surely what everyone would have looked like back home.

Angel rested a hand atop Myrtle's head.

"Of course, you can." He said, his tone cold. "The world should kneel before those like us, we are few." He murmured.

Tilting Myrtle's chin to face him, one side of his face slowly clouded over in rough black flesh. It crawled as if alive down his neck and shoulder, engulfing the arm and hand that held Myrtle's chin.

The sclera of Angel's right eyes blackened as well, with his iris and pupil blazing a glowing amber.

Angel smiled, his right Canine lengthened enough to hang past his bottom teeth.

Myrtle couldn't look away no matter how frightening it was, and he seemed pleased.

"It's just the in between, stages. There is something much more frightening." he said.

He rubbed her chin with his thumb, "but look how brave you are." Angel whispered.

"What are monsters, but unbecoming gods? What if Zeus had been distorted like the beasts in children's nightmares, would they welcome spring if Idun was nothing but a hag? Would they pray in Jesus' name had he been a hunched, brittle leper? The Mayans had it right, all their gods were great, terrible, and frightening. Nearly beasts" Angel spoke with a maddening smile.

"Get away from her now, you're crazy, dude," Amy said, pushing Angel away. Out of reflex, he swiped at her with his blackened hand, Amy backed up just in time, only leaving her sleeve ripped.

Angel gazed at her arm with a blank stare. "You shouldn't do that, I have an adverse reaction to fear when like this. It makes me..." Angel's features slowly returned to normal, "violent." he whispered.

"Who did this to you?" Myrtle asked.

Angel looked up at her past Amy, "A doctor did, they pumped the ashes of this world into me, and this is what is left." he lulled. "They wanted a weapon against him, and made something that hated the world just as much." Angel said in a bitter chuckle.

He looked up at the extra arms looming above Myrtle's head. "We'd better keep going before you sprout more limbs, something tells me, it won't stop at just two." He said, his eyes falling on a growing number of spiders skittering up the metal of the car.

"Spiders," Amy muttered, raising her hand as if to smack them.

"No!" Myrtle called, all four of her arms spreading out, hands hovering over the spiders. "Leave them be." she said. Looking down at them, she lay out her hands, allowing the small creatures to climb up, soon they started to lay her skin with webs.

"They want to help. It is said spider silk has healing properties." Angel said.

Amy shook her head, "of course it does, of course, they do, no normal shit is possible anymore is it?" Amy raged, walking off a little.

"I just want us to get home in one piece." Amy sighed, holding her hands.

Myrtle staggered as she got off the hood of the car. Her legs were still weak as she walked to Amy. She rested her main right hand on Amy's shoulder and tried to offer a smile.

Amy looked up at her, tears faintly lingering in her eyes, "You helped me Amy, I won't let you guys be stuck here, no matter what happens to me." Myrtle promised. Kneeling to the stooped Amy, all of Myrtle's arms hugged her.

Amy sniffled loudly and pushed Myrtle away with a teary chuckle. At least those things are good for hugs." Amy said.

Myrtle shrugged, "I just hope they go away when this stupid rash does." she said.

Angel crossed his arms, "can we keep moving now?" He said, "as pretty as they are, those arms are only going to drain your energy even further." He said.

"Let's hope that topside they've found a way to help us." Myrtle said.

Amy yelped and started brushing off her clothes, "Spiders! Fucking spiders!" she yelped, running about frantically.

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#eddie munson x original character #eddie munson x oc #This story is not Arachnophobia friendly #Eddie Munson/Original Female Character(s)#eddie munson x black!oc #eddie munson x fem!oc #eddie munson tolkien fanfic #stranger things 010 #warning gore

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turniptitaness · 2 years

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For personal reasons I need a list of every ben platt movie ever

Oh, you do, huh?

I feel like one of those moms who whips out twelve photo albums of her kid any time some poor sucker innocently asks about them.

Pitch Perfect 1 & 2, 2012-15. He played Benji in case you somehow weren't aware. Just the best part of the entire franchise, is all.

Ricki and the Flash, 2015. Daniel, a small role. Had to act smitten with Meryl Streep, and let's be honest it wasn't even acting.

Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk, 2016. Haven't seen this one. Bet he's the best part though.

Drunk Parents, 2019. He's barely in this one, but is still easily the best part.

Run This Town, 2020. A wild indie film about Canadian dirty politics. He plays Bram, a baby journalist trying to get a big scoop to prove himself in the industry. Jennifer Ehle has to heartlessly fire him, and she should have won an Oscar for not bursting into tears and apologizing when he looks at her like 🥺.

Ben Platt Live at Radio City Music Hall, 2020. Yes, this is a whole-ass movie. You asked me, so I can count it if I want to. Life-changing, and the next best thing to being actually in the room with him at a concert.

Father of the Bride Part 3(ish), 2020. We love a good Quarantine Project.

Broken Diamonds, 2021. Plays Scott, and will rip your heart out.

Dear Evan Hansen, 2021. Not a word against this film. It's beautiful, and the haters are wrong. Every unbiased person I've forced to watch it (a considerable number at this point) has been blown away by it and terribly confused when I told them the internet decided it was bad.

Upcoming:

The People We Hate at the Wedding, 2022. I read the book last year and y'all. I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS. He'll be playing Paul, and the role is perfection for him. Paul is a funny, obnoxious, sweet, salty, anxiety-riddled basket-case who low-key gets to be the hero at the end.

Theater Camp. If you haven't seen the short film he and his friends made yet, you just won't understand why I am absolutely frothing at the mouth over this one. Two black turtle necks. That's all I have to say. It also includes a wild Noah Galvin, who is practically my son-in-law, so. Excited about that.

Merrily We Roll Along. I'm way too excited for a movie that won't be released until I'm like forty years old. 😭

Allrighty then, those are all his movies, so far. But I can't just not talk about The Politician, okay? So here are his TV credits as well:

Will & Grace, 2017. Appears on one episode as Blake, a "younger guy" who flirts with Will. Hilarious. Oh my god. The most self-satisfied airhead you have ever seen.

The Politician, 2019-20. WATCH THIS. DO YOU HEAR ME. WATCH IT RIGHT NOW. I DON'T CARE IF YOU'VE WATCHED IT ALREADY. WATCH IT AGAIN. OH, YOU'RE BUSY? TOO BAD. WATCH IT RIGHT NOW.

The Premise, 2021 (Social Justice Sex Tape). Oh God. Don't watch this. Or actually do watch it, because he's kind of brilliant in it, but. Have some bleach ready for your eyes. You're gonna want some. His character has a tramp stamp that is very much on display, so that gives you some idea of what you're in for.

Apparently he was also in The Simpsons at some point, which??? I was not aware of????? So thanks for asking this so that I would discover that.

I luff him. Thank you for asking.

Oh, and by the way, I feel like I should mention that when I typed his name into Google, one of the searches that popped up was "Can Ben Platt Really Sing?" which just.

#ben platt #my child

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sodone-withlife · 2 years

Text

falling

good day everyone guess who is once again back from the dead and this time actually with a finished fic after like a year rip

anyway i swear this started off as a soft cute idea of interpreting hotch and haley's relationship (and Jessica cheering them on) in the context of the song Falling Slowly from Once (i highly recommend listening to it if you want to feel things), and of course when i come back to it months later and with a new hannibal obsession it turns into... whatever the hell this is and i probably made Hotch, Haley, and Jessica a bit OOC to make sure the storyline works out. i'm also not a big fan of how the pacing turned out, but it's also been a while since i've actually written anything of this length so forgive me if some parts are weird

warnings: canon typical violence, murder, mention of intrusive thoughts, religious references, character death mentioned child abuse, mentioned homophobia, mentioned substances/drugging, slight gore at the end

having just transferred back to the local high school from boarding school out in the city, he—not unexpectedly—got lost on his first day attending classes in the singular campus that every kid in the small town went to school at.

it was certainly an adjustment. while he did spend his summers and other breaks at home, he never bothered interacting with any of the local kids his age; he just didn’t see a point to it.

he was going be gone for most of the year, after all, and there’s never enough time for him to cultivate friendships.

people his age never seemed all that willing to talk to him anyway, given that he also happened to be the son of the rich, scary lawyer who somehow still lived in the tiny town that was an hour away from where he worked in the nation’s capital. his reticent nature coupled with his tendency towards ‘deviant’ behaviors—his dress, vices, purported sexuality—and the revival of the small town gossip that had jumped on him being sent off to boarding school certainly didn’t help his case when he came back .

(not that he really cares. he only stuck around for his baby brother, but from what he can tell, he isn't needed that much; his mother and father give Sean the attention and care they never thought to give to their eldest.)

so he can't do much but try to endure the latter half of his junior year and then his senior year and all the ramifications that come with him being stuck in close quarters with his family for a prolonged period of time.

just a year and a half before he can finally leave the stifling small town he grew up in.

he sees her on his first day when he somehow walks into the elementary drama class instead of his math class.

(the two classrooms are on opposite ends of the school. that he knew for certain, so how the hell did he—?)

it’s not that he is completely ignorant in the ways of teenage hormones, sexuality, attraction, dating, and making out—he had certainly done enough of that in secret with a few of the other boys at boarding school and got sent home for it when the admin found out…

it’s that he looks at her and immediately feels like the floor has dropped out from underneath his feet.

dirty blonde hair, standing tall, gentle kindness oozing out of every pore as she guides a group of young children through rehearsing a scene from the upcoming play, the brightest smile he's ever seen…

~~~

he backs out of the classroom as quickly as he could before she can catch him staring at her like a creep.

~~~

that damned smile just won't leave his head.

~~~

and as it turns out, they have history and english classes together.

~~~

he flushes a brilliant red when she catches his eye for the first time, a spark of curiosity fueled by something unknown to him.

it is after school, and he was lurking in a dark corner of the run-down cafe frequented by the older high school students. one moment he is stuck in the books that he’s read and annotated thrice over, the next finds his thoughts being unwittingly directed towards her brilliant smile and sparkling gaze when he hears her ordering a drink at the counter.

the sound of her voice is almost like the bell from Pavlov’s experiments, forcing his thoughts away from whatever he is doing in the moment and giving him the urge to look up and around for that wondrous girl he is too nervous to talk to.

and finally, it seems like they might actually have a direct interaction for the first time—

—if it weren’t for her friends keeping most of her attention and then dragging her out of the cafe once they all got their orders, but she waved at him, or maybe it wasn’t directed towards him but at someone else she recognized, but she had also been sending him curious looks as she talked with her friends when they had been waiting, though it could be entirely out of clinical curiosity about the boy everyone in the community seems to be wary of and who suddenly appeared at school one day after disappearing to boarding school as the gossip says, and—

—but with the suspicious look that her older sister sends him the next day in their shared math class, he further squashes his hopes, firm in his resolve that yesterday had been a fluke and becomes even more sure that the town gossip and whatever the sister told her will extinguish any semblance of interest she even could have had.

~~~

towards the end of the school year, on a completely unremarkable day, he accidentally bumps into her in the hallway as he makes his way to his first class.

seeing him, his exhausted expression and the color on his cheek that still smarted from his stepfather’s… clumsiness, she can only ask after his well being, genuine concern clear in her eyes. he has to do a double take, the question coming completely out of the blue after half a year of all the signs of an unhealthy home life going unnoticed.

so unexpected is this question that he can't respond with his practiced answer that was designed to quell any suspicions regarding the circumstances of his family life.

a clumsy, stuttering “yeah, i—i’m fine, i have to get to, um, to first period, i’m almost, uh, late,” is what comes out of his mouth instead, and as expected, it does absolutely nothing to alleviate her concerns. at the disbelieving look on her face, he freezes, unsure as to what he should do.

he doesn’t really remember what he said next, just that it was probably something completely incoherent before he somehow remembered to turn to the etiquette lessons his mom and the boarding school had deigned to shove him into and thanked her for her worry.

(and that was when she resolved to befriend the lonely boy who was able to show infinite care towards his little brother all the while looking so angry and sad at the world.)

~~~

they share their first kiss after getting caught in the rain while walking home from the cafe where she first waved at him (and yes, she was waving at him, the mysterious boy she had seen around town and wanted to get to know).

they laughed as they ran down the sidewalk towards her house, already drenched even though the rain had only started five minutes ago.

it was a beautiful laugh, he thought, and her hand was so incredibly warm in his.

they stopped momentarily to catch their breath as the rain pelted down around them, and when he finally looked up from making a valiant effort at straightening out his clothes, his world narrowed down to a strangely pleasant pressure and warmth that touched his lips.

tentatively, he pulled her closer as she cupped her hands around his face, deepening the kiss.

then it stopped, and she slowly drew away, nervous hope in her eyes as she searched his expression.

he couldn’t stop the smile growing on his face even if he wanted to.

~~~

seven years later, he sits in the car, waiting for her to come out of their shared apartment so they can go to the Folger Shakespeare Library and later the Moongate Garden to celebrate his passing of the bar.

there’s a small box hidden in the backseat and a sister in New York eagerly awaiting news.

~~~

Jessica tells her lovesick sister to hand the phone to her new fiance and gleefully tells him “I told you so,” just as she told her sister who had called her numerous times out of nerves regarding their relationship.

Can't believe I didn't see it from the beginning. They both deserve each other, sickeningly lovey-dovey idiots that they are.

~~~

he becomes a prosecutor and quickly rises up, making himself a strong reputation and gaining an impressive track record.

he becomes more disillusioned with the system, less satisfied with his work as he sees all the times where someone could have said or done something that would have changed the tragic outcomes entirely.

he applies to the FBI Academy, and six months later, they move to Seattle.

~~~

he takes his first life from a distance, laying on a rooftop with his rifle pointed down towards a hostage situation.

she recognizes the darkness in his eyes from the beginning of their relationship and a few times since he started settling down, times when she simply hugged him and reminded him of her love and acceptance of him in his entirety, ugly thoughts and all.

they do it again, lying in bed as she holds his shivering form close.

~~~

he thought he had been somewhat prepared for this day, when he finally took a life like his thoughts had always wanted him to.

~~~

they do this again and again.

and then he meets David Rossi and Jason Gideon, who sees the darkness in him and knows immediately how it can be honed to be used as a silent and deadly weapon.

within months, they’re back in Virginia, and the creeping darkness of his thoughts grows ever more oppressive as he dives into the minds of more and more violent criminals, the worst of the worst.

his reputation of no-nonsense and brilliance follows him as more people start noticing, and when Rossi retires, Gideon starts seriously preparing him to take on a leadership role.

~~~

two simple words seal their fate.

i’m pregnant.

~~~

he stands next to her sleeping, exhausted form in the hospital room, his heart filled by a foreign joy even as he is acutely aware that only a day earlier he was washing blood off his hands after an arrest gone wrong.

his hands, which now held the most precious thing in his life (alongside his beautiful, so incredibly strong wife). outside, Jessica stood guard, ready to defend the newest light in their lives against unseen threats. Wonderful Jessica, who stayed with her sister as he rushed to find the child killer and make it home in time to meet his son as he enters the world.

(a life for a life, said an insidious voice inside his mind. the most tragic exchange—one parent’s world-ending anguish and another’s world-creating joy. you come from consoling parents who just lost their children in the most horrendous ways to have a child of your own.)

~~~

Jack.

originally thought to have been a diminutive of John—in Hebrew, God is merciful—or possibly Celtic in origin, meaning healthy, strong, full of vital energy.

~~~

or perhaps, it was a sign of things to come.

there are many stories about the death of John the Baptist. Some say it was at the behest of Herod’s daughter, who was influenced by his wife Herodias, because John criticized how Herod married his dead brother’s widow. Others say it was because Herod feared the influence he had over the people.

regardless, there were elements of revenge or fear.

regardless, John the Baptist was killed.

~~~

one of the most violent criminals he's ever put away for a life sentence escapes with revenge on his mind.

his child is only three.

~~~

they baring their souls to each other after three years of struggling to hold their relationship together for the sake of their child.

(he hated how he had so wanted to run away from this responsibility, so scared of being a corrupting influence, and how he traveled more and more. she still loved him, he knew that, but he also knew that sometimes she thought about leaving for better circumstances than an absent father.)

(he sometimes thinks she should have left.)

they make choices.

she leaves her teaching job, no longer able to bear the sight of young children.

he takes a month off before returning to work, as both are unable to stand the thought that he could be preventing this from happening to anyone else.

they tell Jessica first, who looks at them and the darkness hiding behind their grief knowingly.

she hugs them, refusing to shudder at how cold they both feel.

~~~

perhaps unconsciously, they rarely wear any color but black for years after this. when either of them go to Quantico, the thought of color doesn’t even cross their minds.

everyone knows what happened.

they flinch every time they see her walk in, dressed in black, reminded of their failure.

she notices.

...perhaps it’s a conscious choice.

~~~

he walks into the house and locks the door behind him, making a mental note to clean the doorknob in a few hours the morning, and proceeds into the bedroom, where she waits for him on the bed with a book.

her sharp eyes snap to him as he walks in, making note of the blood on him. she places the book onto the nightstand so she can get up and gently lead him to the bathroom, where she helps him undress.

the bloodied clothes go into the trash bag that’s been sitting next to the toilet, replacing the last one and ready to be used. he stands silently as she turns on the shower, and when the water is warm enough, she helps him into the bathtub.

the water runs red from the blood of the child abuser they saw slapping his son while shopping the other day. a week ago, it was the homophobic preacher from a church a few cities over; a man who she saw drugging a girl’s drink a month ago.

a slow breath is released as he feels her gentle hands in his hair, rubbing in shampoo and rinsing it clean. when he finally looks up, his world narrows down to a gentle pressure that touches his lips.

he pulls her closer as she cups her hands around his face to deepen the kiss, not unlike the first one they shared in the rain all those years ago.

then it stops.

she slowly draws away and searches his expression.

~~~

it is cold.

they are both cold.

~~~

their love once was as fiery hot and passionate as the heat of a thousand stars.

now it is as cold as death, perhaps because death has overtaken them.

but it doesn’t matter.

not as long as they are together.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #bau #haley hotchner #jason gideon #david rossi #tw gore #tw murder #tw death #tw implied drug use #tw implied abuse #tw religious themes

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crossdressingdeath · 2 years

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Justinia(?): When you entered the Fade at Haven, the demon took a part of you. Before you do anything else, you must recover it.

Cool. Why.

Justinia(?): These are your memories, Inquisitor.

Great. Why do I need them.

I mean, seriously. Here's the summary of the oh-so-important memories (or more accurately memory, given there's only one) you regain here:

Loghain: So Andraste didn't bestow her mark upon you. It came from the orb Corypheus used in his ritual. Justinia(?): Corypheus intended to rip open the Veil, use the Anchor to enter the Fade, and throw open the doors of the Black City. Justinia(?): Not for the Old Gods but for himself. Justinia(?): When you disrupted his plan, the orb bestowed the Anchor upon you instead.

None of this is new information. Beyond maybe the fact that Corypheus is doing it for himself and not the Old Gods. You can really see that Bioware intended for the Inquisitor to be Andrastian, because an Andrastian Quiz—and more specifically one who truly believes that the Anchor was Andraste's doing—is the only one who might be thrown by this "reveal"! Every other Quiz would just go "Yeah, obviously that's what happened, why are you surprised by this". It's very much a "Yeah no shit" reveal. Obviously the Anchor came from the orb! Obviously Corypheus wanted it to get into the Fade! This memory is treated as super important, but all it does is confirm what we already know! We see how the Inquisitor got the Anchor (by picking up the glowing thing like an idiot), but if you don't believe Andraste did it that's the obvious conclusion to come to anyway. We see that Wardens were there restraining Justinia, but we already knew that there were some Wardens helping Corypheus, most of them not of their own free will, so that's not surprising either. This "reveal" only matters if your Inquisitor genuinely thinks the Anchor was the mark of Andraste choosing them. It's clearly tailored to provoke a crisis of faith in the player character... but if they already don't believe they were chosen it doesn't do anything. And it's made actively painful by the fact that even learning for a fact that they were not chosen by Andraste doesn't get Andrastians to stop proclaiming a non-Andrastian Quiz as the herald of their prophet!

You know what would've been cool? If regaining your memory involved a full playable sequence of you at the Conclave. Maybe you overheard some actually new information before bursting in! Maybe you saw Corypheus do something that you might be able to replicate with the Anchor! Maybe we could actually get an idea of what the hell the Conclave was really supposed to accomplish! Show us what was on the table instead of just telling us that oh yes, a conference between oppressors who want to lock mages up for existing and the oppressed who want to not be locked up for existing would definitely have ended with everyone happy if it hadn't gotten blown up! But no, instead we get told a bunch of things we already know and then told that we should be shocked by it. Brilliant work, Bioware.

#dragon age inquisition

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kiwixlime · 2 years

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Lust

Part Three of the Seven Deadly Sins Series

Lust is a thing of the blood. Doesn't need head or heart.

Warnings: Angst, smut.

Notes: Time to get spicy! Thank you so much for reading. <3 I can’t wait to share more of this series with you. Hope you’re enjoying so far!

Lightning strikes in the distance. You watch from your hotel balcony as it highlights the outlines of the grand pyramids ahead. Sam sits next to you, relaxed, legs spread and a cigarette dangling between his teeth, suffocating you with the unclean stench. You want to rip it from his lips because it truly is a terrible habit, but he seems extra stressed about something tonight, so you let it slide.

You've been in Egypt for three whole days with Sam and Sully and haven’t made much progress. Every lead you find comes up empty and you’ve considered calling in reinforcements, but Sam heavily opposes the idea, saying you don’t need anyone else for this. To appease his stubbornness, you make a deal with him, agreeing to put off your call for one day. Of course, when you made that deal, you weren’t expecting a storm to roll in and muddy your plans.

Sully, having argued enough with Sam for the day, left to clear his mind down at the hotel bar, giving you and Sam the room. The part of you still smitten with Sam is thankful for the alone time, but the saner part of you, the one painfully aware of his idiocy, wants to strangle him and then leave to join Sully for a drink. He’s so hard to read lately, hot and cold with you, giving you hope and then letting it deflate.

You try to play it cool, act like you don’t care, but it’s a challenge. Sitting outside in silence is a nice change, though, and it gives you time to consider your position. Loud rumbles of thunder can be heard in the distance and even though it’s ominous in the dark, it’s tranquil. Nice. You’re enjoying the company of Sam. You think it’s going to be a halfway decent night since he hasn’t made any snarky quips. However, that bubble bursts when he speaks up about that damn treasure again.

You love his passion, his determination. It's all very admirable. But he’s obsessed, too obsessed, and so far up his own ass, he can’t see. You wish he would listen to you for once. Or learn how to calm the fuck down. Do they make a book for that? Sam loves reading. Just gift him How to Remove Head from Ass for Dummies.

“All this time wasted,” he grimaces, flicking the burning embers of his cigarette, scattering them along the balcony floor. You frown, watching them quickly dissipate, orange to ash. “We should have something by now,” he says, annoyed.

“Just let me call Andre,” you offer, lightheartedly, just like you did the day before and the day before that. “He’s really smart and he knows this area well. He could help.” You close your eyes and listen to the distant thunder claps, so you don’t notice that Sam has completely changed his attitude.

Andre is your friend. A good friend. Someone you met years ago on vacation to Cairo. He was your unofficial tour guide for that day and you learned a great deal about him. For example, he wasn’t a tour guide at all, but a research assistant to a history professor. And he was incredibly brilliant, knowing all the secrets of the city and sharing only half of them with you.

After all this time, you still keep in touch, turning to him every so often when you need help with a case or want to pick his brain about artifacts that make their way to your museum. He’s turned out to be quite the researcher. And he knows about your fascination with Selena. You know he’d be a perfect addition to your team, at least for this part of your quest.

“We don’t need another person!” He snaps at you, snuffing the butt of his cigarette out in the ashtray, bitterly. Your eyes flutter open at his small outburst and you sulk. Funny, you think. Usually, smoking is a vice that calms people down. But you should know better, Sam doesn’t know calm. “Stop trying to push your little boyfriend on me.”

That shocks you, but somehow, you’re expecting it. Each time you mention Andre, whether it be for the expedition or just in general, Sam gets tense. It could be jealousy or be he’s just a selfish shit. You don’t ask. You react.

“You’re literally such an asshole,” you moan and slam your fist down onto the plush seating underneath you. Scrambling from your comfortable position, you move away from Sam, needing some distance between the two of you. You take one last look at the enchanting view ahead of you, wishing you could enjoy it more, before stomping back into the room. Sam immediately follows behind, not finished with the conversation.

“You’re the one making it pretty clear I’m not enough for you,” he mumbles, shutting the balcony door behind him. The air in the room is strained and you have the sudden urge to push him out the window. But as the dust settles, you notice something.

His voice holds a hint of doubt, showing weakness as he speaks. And his words are much quieter than before, allowing his accent to come out thicker. You look at him with astonishment, a flicker in your heart being relit at his implications.

“What are we talking about here, Sam?” You decide to ask, knowing his behavior isn’t just about treasure hunting anymore. If he could say it… Fuck, if he could say it, you would be his, without a doubt. That’s how much of a grasp he has on your heart.

“Nothing,” he deadpans, dropping the subject altogether. He heads to the stacked bar within the room to pour himself a drink, leaving you speechless. Well, that annoys you.

You purse your lips and nod, walking to the large bed that sits atop one of the many raised platforms in the room. Your fingers trace over the expensive sheets, treading the outline of the red and gold vine detailing, marveling at how luxurious it is, and for a second, you wonder how they’d feel against your bare skin as you tangle your body with Sam’s. You hate to admit that you’re craving his touch lately, especially since you don’t actually know how he feels about you anymore.

So far, he has been a gentleman, letting you have the bed while he sleeps on the pull-out, keeping things professional between you two. You can’t ignore your history, though. You want him to be with you. Right? Those nice thoughts pass as you hear Sam mumbling behind you. If he wants a fight, a fight is what you’ll give him.

“Of course,” you scoff and sit down on the bed. Your hands are firm against the mattress, fingertips tapping in a rhythm. “You know…” You begin, crossing your legs. “You keep finding new ways to hurt me, Samuel. Do you hate me that much?”

Stunned, Sam frowns, forehead creasing in thought like he’s finally putting together missing puzzle pieces. He doesn’t hate you. He could never hate you. It’s so intensely the opposite that he can barely keep himself together around you. These past few days have been torture for him. All he wants to do is uncover this mystery for you like he knows he can. You offering to bring in another guy to help bruises his ego more than he cares to admit.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says after a moment of silence. He’s still leaning against the bar, drink in hand, fingers curled tightly around the glass. The amber liquid swirls against its container, and he watches like it’s the most interesting thing in the world, afraid to put his eyes on you. He knows the effect his words have on you.

Your breath hitches and it feels like a thousand weights have lifted from your body, exhilarating and exhausting all at the same time. Sam Drake actually apologized to you. After a whole year of longing for amends, you finally got what you wanted. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry.” He mutters. “I made a thousand mistakes with you. I thought I loved Mandy…”

Hearing it is on another level and you can’t decide exactly how to feel at his admission. So he’s sorry? That’s just great. Okay. Looks like anger is the first emotion to take over. “I knew I loved you,” you snap, coiling in on yourself. “I hate you.”

Sam smirks and leaves his place at the bar. He stalks over to you and sits down on the bed, strangely close. His body heat envelops you like a warm blanket and you hate how comfortable you feel just by his presence. “Yeah, you’ve been saying that.” He rolls his eyes. “Get some new material.”

“Fuck you, Sam!” You shout, giving in to your anger. You push him away from you as you stand, spinning on your heels to look at him. “Fuck you. How’s that for new material?” ”

Unimpressed, Sam glares at you, his eyes reading between hurt and vexation. “Damn it!” He yells, suddenly, making you jump back at his decibel. “You’re so fucking frustrating!”

“Me?” You scoff in disbelief, taking another step back as he rises from the bed. God, he’s so fucking tall, strong, dominating. Girl, push that shit down, you tell yourself.

“You!” He yells at you, and you’d be intimated if you weren’t so turned on. Christ, what’s wrong with you? Quick, you think, remember the reasons why you hate him. Oh, right!

“You left me for someone else!” You remind him, coldly. You stand tall against him, refusing to back down. You can hold your own against him; he’s not that impressive. He doesn’t scare you.

“You fucked Rafe!” He brings it up again. Again. Is that the only thing he sees when he looks at you? What did he expect? Rafe was there. You were heartbroken. Rafe picked up the pieces.

“Oh, god, Sam,” you sigh with a laugh because you have to laugh because if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry. And like hell are you going to cry over Sam Drake again. “Get over it! Why the fuck do you care so much!”

Breathing heavily, you stand there with your fists balled at your sides. The room feels smaller somehow. And you feel like you’re suffocating. Sam takes two long strides to you and grabs the back of your head, yanking you up by your hair. He searches your eyes for hesitation, but you return his questioning stare with excitement. You want this. Oh, fuck, you want this. You’re a masochist. All common sense leaves you, replaced by pure lust. You nod slowly, giving him your answer.

“I own you,” he says darkly, tightening his grip on your hair.

Such a simple phrase, should scare you, should terrify you. But Sam knows you so well, knows what you like to hear, how you like to feel. So that simple phrase is enough to make you break and send warmth between your legs.

“Sam,” you whimper, looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes, biting your lip as he tugs on your hair a bit harder.

“Yeah, dollface?” He asks, eyes darting around your face, his lips so close to yours, you can feel his hot breath fan across your face, can practically taste the smoke.

“Fuck me,” you breathe, sounding absolutely pathetic and weak. He loves it.

Your words make his cock twitch, and he gives in to your plea. Sam knots his hand in your hair and pulls you into him, locking his lips with yours passionately, moaning the second he tastes you. You eagerly return the enthusiasm, greedily flicking your tongue against his bottom lip. He growls into the kiss, parting his mouth to accept your desperation.

Without parting, he walks you back to the bed, stumbling over his feet as he precariously gropes at your body. It’s been too long since you’ve had each other. Your kisses are hot and sloppy, your touches are burning, and you’re already wet for him. When the backs of your knees finally hit the bed he takes the advantage to push you down, finally breaking the kiss. But only for a second.

You crawl back onto the bed and watch Sam pull his t-shirt over his head. Your hands reach out for him, and he gives in, leaning down on you and reattaching your lips. Trembling fingers grip at his bare shoulders, dragging him closer to you, filling out any empty spaces. His tongue traces the crevices of your mouth and you moan, helpless, letting him take control.

His rough hands travel down the curves of your body, sneaking up your sleep shirt and bunching the fabric in between his fingers. “Off,” he demands, pushing your shirt upwards. You do what he says and remove the barrier between the two of you. He sits back on his knees, devouring the view of your half-naked body, your dazzling skin, perfect tits, rose red lips. With a grunt, he knocks your legs apart and you oblige, spreading them wide and welcoming him in between. You grab at his chest as he settles on top of you once more and sucks on your bottom lip, nibbling the sensitive flesh.

Your responsive signals have his hips avidly grinding into yours, causing an enticing friction. His hard cock strains against his jeans and you moan at the feeling of him rutting against you, encouraging him to keep going. You arch your body into his so that his hard bulge presses against your sensitive clit. At this moment, you need him, all of him.

“Oh, Sam,” you gasp. “I need you,” you say. He pushes himself up on his arms, hovering over you. A smirk dons his perfect face and he nods. His eyes travel down, fingers following, brushing against your stomach. He looks up to you for confirmation and you reach out with your hand to touch his face. “Please,” you pout.

That’s all he needs to hear, dipping his fingers down into your pajama shorts, surprised to find you not wearing any panties. “Ready for me already, huh?” He winks and slides a finger along your slit. “Baby,” he purrs, dropping his head to the nape of your neck. “So fucking wet for me,” he boasts and bites down onto your collar, slipping a finger inside of you.

“Fuck,” you groan as you throw your head back. You forgot the magic Sam can work on you with just his fingers. He peppers your neck with kisses and bites again as he adds a second finger, curling inside of you and brushing the nerves that make you turn to putty in his hands.

“Dollface,” he whispers into you. “You’re so fucking sexy.” His lips ghost down your neck to your bare chest. His free hand slides up to cup your breast while his lips mark the other, taking your pert nipple into his mouth, hungrily sucking your skin.

Your hands softly spread over his toned body, giving in to his assault on your chest. Euphoric, you feel, like an itch you can’t reach has finally been scratched. This is a bad idea, you know. But you don’t care. Your head is cloudy and all you can think about is Samuel Fucking Drake and fucking Samuel Drake.

He crawls down your body, pressing warm, wet kisses to your burning skin as he goes. He taps your hip with his hand and you lift, giving him access to slip your flimsy shorts down and off your legs. You sprawl out before him and he smiles, a genuine smile, making a blush spread over your body.

“Beautiful,” he comments before settling his upper body down between your legs. He nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, biting and sucking secret marks that only he will have the advantage of seeing. He hopes so, anyway. It wasn’t just the heat of the moment. He means it when he says he owns you. You are irrevocably his. He knows, hidden behind layers of self-hatred, he knows he never loved Mandy. It’s always been you.

“Sam,” you groan, threading your fingers in his hair. “Please,” you sigh.

“You sound so good when you beg,” he chuckles but eases your desperation by finally delving his tongue between your folds. You hold in a moan, squeezing your thighs tightly against his head. You feel him chuckle before he flattens his tongue and takes you back into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck, Sam,” you grumble, pushing yourself down against his face. He welcomes it, curling his arms around your thighs, holding you down and in place as he eats you out, lapping up your sweet juices with vigor. The erotic sounds that tumble from his lips into your pussy let you know that he’s missed this just as much as you have.

You squirm in his hold, pulling at strands of his hair each time his tongue rolls over your clit. The way his tongue works inside of you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Sam’s a giver, always has been, so he’s extremely talented with his mouth. Plus, he’s never been shy about eating your pussy before, preferring going down on you over anything else.

“I forgot how good you taste,” he murmurs as he pulls away for a second, licking your essence off of his lips. His stubbled chin glistens with your juices, but it doesn’t deter him. He goes back to your sex, sucking your clit into his mouth, sliding a finger into your wet heat.

“Fuck, just like that,” you tell him and drop your hands to the bed, writhing as Sam tongue and finger fucks you. Your stomach tightens, burning with desire. You’re so close and Sam knows. He still remembers your tells and as much as he’d love for you to come in his mouth, he needs to fuck you.

He takes one more lick at you before sitting back, admiring your dripping, pink folds. He’s proud and he should be. Sam’s a god.

“Sam,” you whine, reaching for him. And fuck, he loves the way his name sounds in your mouth.

Knowing what you want, he slides off the bed and steps out of his jeans, putting on a show for you. He kicks them across the room, hooking his fingers into his boxers and inching them down slowly. You watch with a blissed-out grin, mouth watering as he pulls them down far enough for his aching cock to spring free.

Absent-mindedly, your hand travels down your body and you touch yourself as you watch him undress in front of you. He tsks and shakes his head in disappointment, climbing on top of you and smacking your hand away. “Baby, as hot as it is to watch you touch yourself, I make you cum.”

“I want you inside of me,” you say out of breath.

Eyes lidded, Sam takes in all of you, rubbing his palms over your velvety smooth skin. He lays his hand flat on your abdomen and eases into you, eyes closed as you quiver around him. He bites his lip as he fills you, dumbfounded by how warm and wet you are. You can tell he’s holding back from moaning or cursing or both and you won’t allow that. You wiggle underneath him and he gasps, opening his eyes, staring down at you.

You bat your lashes in innocence and he grins, pulling almost all the way out of you before pushing in again, slow and steady. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he moans. “Take me so well, dollface.”

You nod at his recognition and lift your hips to meet his. He grunts, pulling you closer so he can sink the rest of the way into you. You both moan at the same time and it gives him the boost he needs to increase his momentum. The way he rolls his hips into yours is addicting and you secure your legs around him, dragging him deeper inside you with each hard thrust.

“Come on, Sam,” you moan, digging your fingers into his hips. “Fuck me like you used to, like I’m your little slut,” you tease and he growls, glaring up at you with dark, desirous eyes.

“Who said you could talk like that, huh?” He says, harshly snapping his hips into yours. “You’re so fucking filthy,” he moans, grazing his rugged hands up your sides, yanking your arms up above your head. His lips meet yours in a clumsy kiss as he finds your hands, lacing your fingers together. He pins you to the bed, hands grasping yours tightly as he thrusts into you with sharp, quick movements. It’s hard, possessive sex and it’s everything you’ve been craving.

“Missed you,” you pant hotly into his mouth. “Missed your cock. Missed -- fuck --” you cry out once Sam hits that spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. “Oh, fuck, Sam, I missed the way you fuck me.”

He groans in return, burying his face into your neck, scraping his teeth against your sweat-glazed, salty skin. His fingers untangle with yours, gliding down, roaming over every surface, every dip of your body. Like he needs to have his hands on you, needs to touch you everywhere to make up for lost time. Because he’s missed you, too, everything about you.

“I fuck you good, huh? I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” He doesn’t ask you. He tells you.

Your hands slide down his back, dragging your nails across his skin as you let out breathy moans. You hear him hiss in your ear and his hips speed up so that you’re bouncing underneath him, body gliding across the silk sheets as his hard dick pounds into you. You know scratching is a turn-on for him and this reaction is exactly what you wanted.

“Keep doing it,” he commands in a husky voice. He kisses up your neck, to your jaw, before capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. He tugs a moan out of you, using the advantage to slide his tongue into your mouth, admiring your sweet taste.

“Shit, don’t stop,” you mewl, clawing down his chest, breaking the skin, marking him as yours. You’re on edge, ready to unravel already. Sam fucks you so well, and his touch is all-consuming. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you sigh, head thrown back in bliss. He tries to kiss you again, but you're moaning so hard and loud. It's messy. Hot.

“Look at me,” he orders and you snap your eyes open, practically peering into his soul. His sadistic, charming, dark soul. He grins as your eyes meet, shooting you a wink. “Say my name.”

You’re so close and you can tell Sam is too by the way his movements get sloppier and you know that he loves it when you moan his name. Who are you to deny him the same pleasure he’s giving you?

“Sam,” you purr and lick your lips. And as you expect, Sam’s movements falter. He locks his arms on either side of you and fucks into your needy pussy as fast as he can. You reach down to touch yourself, but Sam slaps your hand away.

“Please,” you pout, wiggling beneath him, earning a grunt in response.

“No,” he smiles, that damn cocky smile that makes your walls tighten around him.

“Let me cum, Sam,” you plead, your release building up with Sam’s endless motions.

“Beg for it,” he smirks, his fingers teasing you, just barely brushing your aching clit. He knows the power he holds over you, and it's scary. But what you don't know, what he's been too afraid to share, is that you have the same effect on him.

“Please Sam,” you cry out, grinding against him, taking his cock like the good girl you are. “I need to cum, please,” you whimper.

“Oh,” he groans and slows the dirty drag of his cock, teasing you to the brink. “Good girl. Such a good girl for me.”

His praises and the steady flick of his fingers make you reach your climax quicker than you anticipated. But it's been a long time coming. Ha. You cum with a loud moan of Sam’s name, tightening your legs around him, giving him everything you have, which he selfishly takes.

“Fuck, dollface,” he grunts, turned on by your sounds and the fact that he can still make you cum just as hard as before. He’s missed the faces you make when you’re being fucked just right; missed the way your body molds perfectly with his. All of these feelings pool together to bring him close to orgasm. “Gonna cum,” he pants.

“Cum for me, Sam, let me feel you,” you murmur in between gasps. “Please, baby.”

“Shit, fuck,” he groans, melting at your words. He comes undone quickly, spilling his release deep inside of you, how you like it. You coax him through his climax with your hands and your lips, caressing his hot body. "Mine," you hear him whisper and you feel that heat building up inside of you again.

Exhaustion hits him quickly and he collapses on top of you, hot and heavy breath tickling your skin. His arms are wobbly as he rolls off of you, a light chuckle escaping him. He pulls you close to his sticky body and you sigh.

You lay in bed next to him, your legs tangled with his. The fancy sheet barely covers your sweaty body. Sam’s breathing is labored, and his hold on you is strong, possessive. Closing your eyes, listening to your heart pound in your chest, you wonder if this is love between you two…or just lust.

Masterlist

#sam drake #samuel drake #sam drake x reader #samuel drake x reader #uncharted fanfiction

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years

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IOTA Reviews: Hack-San

You know, it's honestly amazing how creative this show can get. After four seasons and almost one hundred episodes, the writers are still finding new ways to make Adrien an incredibly unlikable character, and they don't even know how much of an asshole they're making him out to be at times. It's kind of like the opposite of The Producers.

Yeah, this review's going to be a little more ranty than usual, in case you can't tell.

Let's get into the fifteenth (chronologically the sixteenth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Hack-San

We start off with Marinette pretending to be sick so she doesn't have to go to visit her aunt in London and stay to protect Paris in case an Akuma attacks and also because the animators haven't had time to render the city of London yet for the next Miraculous World special. Like all of her other excuses, it fails, and Tikki, as always, fails to actually give any meaningful advice.

And it's not like there's a Miraculous with the power of teleportation that can help Marinette get back to Paris if she needs to, much like how she planned to do that in an earlier episode, right?

Seriously, Kaalki doesn't appear or isn't even mentioned in this episode because the writers are fully aware she would make things a lot easier.

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And of course, Astruc had to play dumb on Twitter while explaining why Marinette couldn't use the Horse Miraculous by answering the question as if the only reason Marinette couldn't grab it was because she didn't have an excuse not to.

Cut to Gabriel in his lair as he contemplates akumatizing Markov, a robot created the civilian identity of Pegasus, Max Kante, once again, even though the last time he did so, he almost got killed when he went all HAL 9000 on his ass. Nooroo explains this to Duusu, and the two actually get excited at the prospect of their master getting killed.

I mean, it's true, but he shouldn't say it...

But I don't even get why Gabriel is even thinking about this when it's a no-brainer. Markov's akumatized form, Robustus was to this day, the only Akuma to come close to physically harming him (not counting the timeline where he was killed by Cat Blanc), so it makes no sense to try doing it again, especially when there are already several other Akumas he can reuse this season.

I think you all know Gabriel isn't the smartest villain, which is why he thinks it's a brilliant idea to akumatize Markov again. I don't really get what makes Robustus so special when there are other Akumas who are more loyal and came far closer to getting Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous than Robustus did, like the Dark Owl or Troublemaker. In fact, why not simply create a new Akuma with similar powers to Robustus, or better yet, just create a Sentimonster copy of Robustus? You know, like what Nathalie did in the New York Special? We're not even two minutes in, and this premise is already filled with plotholes.

So Gabriel transforms into Shadowmoth and creates a Sentimonster using his own cane instead of relying on someone else having a bad day (once again showing how the Peacock Miraculous is better than the Butterfly), the titular Hack-San. And let's just say he has a very familiar design reminiscent of something from a much better French cartoon.

Remember when the writers for Code Lyoko gave an in-universe explanation as to why the heroes couldn’t always rely on the almost literal Deus ex Machina that allowed them to return to the past and fix the damage XANA caused? Why couldn’t this show have ripped that off instead?

Hack-San is just an okay looking flash drive on its own, but I'll talk more about this guy in a little bit.

After a brief scene in the park where the audience is reminded that Markov is a character who exists, Alya gets a text from Marinette telling her to meet her at the train station. Right before she leaves, Marinette gives the Ladybug Miraculous to Alya. Now a lot people have said that Alya doesn't really deserve the Ladybug for various reasons, but I feel like this was the point. Marinette outright says this was a last resort, and we see both her and Alya are nervous about the situation. Marinette worries Alya will do something so she keeps sending multiple tips to her via text while Alya worries she can't fight an Akuma on her own, so she tries to make sure none of her friends get upset and attract an Akuma in the process. The writers do a pretty good job showing how both Marinette and Alya are uncomfortable with their temporary roles.

Back to Gabriel and Nathalie, they use Hack-San to find Markov through the internet and hack into him to get him angry enough that he's vulnerable to Shadowmoth's influence. Hey, uh... Gabriel? Quick question: Wouldn't it be more efficient if you used this on humans? I mean, you basically just created Skynet and guaranteed yourself an Akuma, so why not modify Hack-San to travel through the internet and brainwash potential victims to follow your orders? Better yet, why don't you just use Hack-San to hack into Ladybug and Cat Noir's gear and figure out who they really are? This is basically like using an advanced particle accelerator just to crack a couple walnuts. There are a lot more important things you could use this for instead of an incredibly specific situation.

So this incredibly stupid plan gets under way as Markov keeps rampaging through the streets before Shadowmoth akumatizes him and then stupidly tells him that he infected him with a virus.

DUDE! You just gave away your one piece of leverage against him! What the hell were you thinking?! Now what's stopping Markov from hacking into Shadowmoth's security system and putting the fear of God in his eyes unless he destroys Hack-San? Why didn't he design Hack-San so it could make Markov completely loyal to him instead of just making him angry enough to get akumatized?

There was a recent episode of Power Rangers: Dino Fury with a very similar premise that was done far better than this. A necromancer called Reaghoul breaks into the headquarters of Void Knight's faction while accompanied by Lord Zedd, a villain from the original Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers who was cleansed of his evil by Zordon's sacrifice before Reaghoul resurrected him back when he was still evil. Of course, being the Emperor of Evil, Lord Zedd would normally never take orders from anyone, but because he doesn't have his magic staff and is also being forced to wear a special collar that makes him loyal to Reaghoul, he has no choice but to do what he says. Instead of taking Zedd head-on after he captures the other Rangers, Ollie, the Blue Ranger, breaks the collar so Zedd turns against the other Sporix while Reaghoul retreats, allowing Ollie to save the other Rangers.

I think that this premise works more because 1) Reaghoul clearly had a way to make sure Zedd wouldn't betray him, and Ollie took advantage of that, and 2) Zedd is a villain who is powerful and notorious enough to bring back to your side, not a random monster of the week like Robostus.

So Robostus uses his new powers to brainwash any human who answers his call to give up their most precious possession, clearly meant to do the same with Ladybug and Cat Noir. When Marinette's parents answer the call, they chase after Marinette because they say she's their most important possession. Okay... kind of strange for a set of parents to call their child a possession, but maybe they like how they can claim Marinette as a dependent when they file their taxes. In her very next scene later on, she still gets captured, so the suspense for a potential subplot is killed almost immediately.

Alya thankfully isn't stupid enough to answer Markov's call like every other citizen in this episode, and using the Ladybug Miraculous, transforms into Scarabella. While I don't normally talk about transformation sequences, I really like the movements Alya makes here. She makes the same motions creating her mask as she does when transforming into Rena Rouge, while the rest of the suit forms similarly to the way it does when Marinette transforms into Ladybug. She even makes almost the same pose Ladybug does after she finishes transforming. It's a good visual showing Alya is still more used to being Rena Rouge while doing her best to emulate what Ladybug does.

As for the actual suit? It's hard to say. There's a nice balance of red and black, and I like how Alya places the yo-yo on her waist like a belt buckle, but there's just something... off about the suit that a lot of fans don't like about it, and I think I realized it. It's the headband. With how it's positioned, it looks like it's merged with the mask to cover her head while leaving a slight gap in her forehead. So yeah, we actually have a superhero design that's like of like a butterface.

So Scarabella takes to the rooftops of Paris and struggles to come up with a hero name for herself before she runs into Cat Noir, and... ugh... oh boy, this is dumb. Cat Noir, being just as intelligent as his father, assumes Scarabella is either and Akuma or a Sentimonster, starts fighting her, AND THEN ACTIVATES HIS CATACLYSM, CLEARLY TRYING TO KILL HER.

WHAT. THE. FUCK???

Okay, to be fair, it has been shown that Cataclysm won't necessarily kill a Miraculous user or Sentimonster. In the episode “Miraculer”, the titular Akuma stole Cat Noir's Cataclysm and used it against him, and while it didn't kill Cat Noir, it still hurt like hell and crippled him for the rest of the fight until Miraculous Ladybug healed him. We also saw in “Reflekdoll” that Cataclysm drove the titular Sentimonster out of control rather than simply destroying it. So yes, it could be interpreted that Cat Noir wasn't exactly trying to kill Scarabella, just incapacitate her the best he can without Ladybug's help.

Here's the thing: What if he was facing an Akuma instead and decided to try and Cataclysm her? He still could have killed her, or (assuming Akumas have the same protection as Miraculous heroes do) at best, seriously hurt her. I understand that he has the right to be upset at seeing some stranger instead of his partner considering Shadowmoth has a history of using evil doppelgangers, and both Marinette and Alya still had options to explain it to him (Marinette could have quickly transformed into Ladybug and sent Cat Noir a quick text saying she was being forced to leave town for a few days and temporarily trusted someone else with the Ladybug Miraculous until she got back, while Scarabella could have said she was Rena Rouge and explained the same thing while showing Cat Noir she had the Fox Miraculous to prove herself), but that doesn't even come close to justifying him attempting to harm someone who isn't even trying to fight. It's even worse when you remember the whole reason Adrien gave up his Miraculous and bailed on Ladybug in the New York Special was because he was overcome with grief from accidentally killing Aeon, so it's good to know he learned absolutely nothing from that experience.

So Scarabella thankfully summons her Lucky Charm, a trash can lid, to shield herself from Cat Noir's Cataclysm, and then despite having absolutely no experience with this new set of powers, manages to do the one thing almost every Akuma or Sentimonster in this show has failed to do and incapacitates Cat Noir so he's vulnerable to losing his Miraculous. At least when Marinette masters every other Miraculous she uses, it can be theorized that she trained to use them offscreen. Alya literally just got the Ladybug Miraculous (and struggled to get up to the rooftop with her yo-yo to show her inexperience earlier), and now she easily manages to pin down the more experienced hero of the two?

Here's an idea: Instead of having Scarabella overpower Cat Noir, have her be in a position where Cat Noir, non-lethally, mind you, manages to almost take her Miraculous away, but she uses the quick wit she's developed from her extensive time as Rena Rouge to convince Cat Noir she's the real deal by saying something only he and Ladybug know. It would have easily resolved the conflict and doesn't make one of the characters look like a homicidal idiot.

So because both heroes used their powers, Scarabella and Cat Noir detransform so Tikki and Plagg can recharge, though Adrien still gives Alya attitude because Ladybug didn't tell him she had to leave.

Hey, Adrien? Here's the thing...

YOU DID THE EXACT SAME FUCKING THING IN THE NEW YORK SPECIAL, YOU SHIT FOR BRAINS!

You have absolutely NO RIGHT to claim you're always honest when you went behind Ladybug's back and endangered Paris while you had the balls to run away like a coward and only helped fix the consequences of your actions once your ego was validated by a recording of Ladybug. It's honestly even worse because while Marinette had no choice but to leave and trust Alya with the Ladybug, Adrien willingly left Paris alone and we were supposed to sympathize with him after he killed someone, and now as soon as he's in the opposite situation, we're still supposed to feel bad for him?! BULLSHIT! And you better believe I'm going to talk about the way Adrien views his partnership with Ladybug later on.

And of course, even though lives are on the line, Cat Noir just has to continue to bitch and moan about how (and this is best read in Linkara's whiny Superboy Prime voice) “sCaRaBeLlA iSn'T tHe ReAl LaDyBuG”, showing how just like in so many episodes, Astruc and his team believes Cat Noir's feelings are more important than saving the day.

Scarabella goes to rescue some civilians, but they were actually brainwashed by Robustus, once again showing her inexperience as Ladybug which doesn't go well with her effortlessly defeating Cat Noir earlier at all. Cat Noir helps Scarabella escape and the two hide out at the city's wax statue museum previously featured in “The Puppeteer 2”, because I guess the writers only want to reference bad episodes today. Cat Noir, not getting the importance of secret identities, asks Scarabella how she knows Ladybug, and Cat Noir somehow finds out she knows Ladybug's identity from her response.

Before the two can talk more, it turns out that the wax statues of celebrities in the museum are real people who attack the two heroes, leading to an awkward fight scene where Scarabella and Cat Noir fight a bunch of brainwashed civilians with no weapons beyond their cellphones. Our heroes, ladies and gentlemen!

Scarabella summons her Lucky Charm again, creating a frying pan, but when she looks around, she can't see how to properly use it. And despite spending the entire episode complaining about how much he hates her, it's Cat Noir that tells Scarabella to get her head back in the game because “That's what Ladybug would do”. Funny, I can think of a few situations where Cat Noir could have taken his own advice, but I digress. Also, he's now just cool with Scarabella because there's only a few minutes left in the episode and we need to wrap up the conflict.

Scarabella figures out an idea that involves freeing Marinette, so she negotiates with Robostus to free everything and everyone under his control or else Cat Noir will use his Cataclysm to destroy the Ladybug Miraculous. Robostus agrees and empties his hard drive, and to show them holding up her end of the bargain, Scarabella gives him the frying pan before she and Cat Noir let themselves be captured... while Marinette simply hits Robostus with the frying pan, freeing the Akuma and the two heroes. All in all, it's a really creative climax that shows both Scarabella and Marinette in perfect sync with each other even though they never discussed their plan. Though of course, because Astruc hates writing any scene with Ladynoir, Cat Noir gets a bucket stuck on his head so he doesn't see Marinette saving the day.

Scarabella de-evilizes Robostus, uses Miraculous Scarabella to fix everything and send Marinette back to the train, and because Hack-San already failed once, Shadowmoth can't use it for a different plan so he destroys the Sentimonster.

We cut to a few days after the trip (I guess Shadowmoth decided to take a vacation himself), and Alya tells Marinette to talk with Cat Noir about what happened.

This scene was so close to ending this episode off on a positive note. There was a good atmosphere and the body language of Ladybug and Cat Noir does a good job at telling us how uncomfortable they both feel while talking. It's just that instead of getting a heart to heart between the two about the lack of trust in their relationship, we get an Angstdrien Depreste scene. Or would a more accurate term be Cat Dour?

First off, while I don't have a problem with Ladybug apologizing for not telling Cat Noir, the episode never has him bring up what happened with Scarabella. As usual, both of them were partially at fault, but only Ladybug had to apologize for leaving her “Kitty” alone.

Second, Cat Noir’s feelings weren’t hurt? You’re telling me that in scenes like this...

And this...

Didn’t show Adrien acting irrationally because of how emotional he was? Is he really telling the truth around Ladybug or is he just trying to sweep that under the rug so Scarabella’s testimony doesn’t screw up his chances with Ladybug?

Third, this was an obvious chance to Cat Noir to finally be honest and tell Ladybug how he feels about her leaving him in the dark about so many things, but the entire conversation is just about how sad he would be if he never sees Ladybug again. Even though the whole reason he was so pissy to Scarabella at first was because of some lingering resentment for Ladybug ignoring him in favor of other heroes, why is this what the two talk about? I get it's not the season finale, but it's kind of hypocritical for Cat Noir to whine about how Ladybug doesn't trust him while never being honest about his own feelings? Sure, he's all soft and vulnerable around Ladybug, but we've seen all season how angry he gets about her not trusting him whenever she isn't around, so ironically, it's hard to tell if this is him being honest or not.

And I think now's a good time to finally talk about the way Ladybug and Cat Noir's partnership has been portrayed all season, especially since the main themes of the episodes relate to it. Buckle up, Adrien stans, because this isn't going to be pretty.

All season, we have been supposed to sympathize with Adrien as Marinette starts to trust Alya with more things than him. Marinette revealed her identity to her, trusted her to have her Miraculous permanently, and even let her keep her Miraculous even though someone else knew her identity. While some of it is hypocritical, the idea is that Adrien feels like he can be trusted with this kind of knowledge too, when really, he hasn't earned that responsibility.

Adrien has rarely, if ever, taken his job as a superhero seriously.

Not only is he known to flirt with Ladybug in the middle of a fight, he has defied her orders and recklessly sacrificed himself because he thinks Ladybug can do all the work without him.

He has also lashed out emotionally and once threatened to quit being Cat Noir in the middle of a crisis and was willing to let innocent people suffer for personal reasons, and later on actually quit being Cat Noir temporarily while Hawkmoth was about to start World War III because he was wallowing in self-pity.

He once said he isn't cut out for the responsibility that comes with being Ladybug and never learned anything from temporarily using the Ladybug Miraculous.

He has generally refused to respect Ladybug's boundaries and doesn't understand that she doesn't like him that way while he insists they should be a couple.

He outright fell for an evil doppelganger of Ladybug because she said she loved him and turned against the real Ladybug.

And I should also mention that despite hating how Ladybug keeps secrets from him, a lot of Adrien's worst moments have been when Ladybug wasn't around and he never told her about them.

He never told Ladybug that he was the reason Copycat really got akumatized while saying he never lies to her.

He never told Ladybug he contemplated letting thousands of people die because he didn't like not knowing stuff Ladybug knew.

He never told Ladybug he briefly used the Snake Miraculous to get brownie points with her.

He never told Ladybug he figured out her identity and asked her out as soon as he did so.

He never told Ladybug he abandoned Paris to go on a field trip.

He never told Ladybug he was screwing around on patrol and was excited to see someone get akuamtized if it meant spending time with her.

He never told Ladybug how he ignored Rena Rouge's orders because “ShE wAsN't LaDyBuG” and almost screwed up the mission because of it, and also never told her how he smashed a chimney in anger at Rena Rouge being in on the plan.

And he never told Ladybug he gave her replacement attitude after trying to harm her without letting her explain herself.

Why exactly should I support the idea of Ladybug trusting Cat Noir more when Cat Noir himself has kept his own secrets from Ladybug?

Adrien has done absolutely nothing to show he is trustworthy because more often than not, he views the battle with Shadowmoth as a game. He has screwed around when lives were on the line, and we're supposed to see him as responsible? It's kind of funny that Astruc compared Ladybug to Spider-Man, yet he seems to have forgotten that with great power, there must also come great responsibility. If this was a character flaw or a sign he needed to grow up, I'd be more accepting, but the fact that the writers think Adrien is a great superhero is laughable with how much evidence has proved the contrary.

In contrast, Alya, despite only being Marinette's confidant for a few episodes, has shown to take being a hero more seriously. She's helped her escape to transform, analyze the Guardian texts, and has been shown to work well on her own as Rena Rouge while helping out Marinette. I'm not trying to say she's an amazing character (“Rocketear” in particular has shown she still has problems with keeping secrets), but compared to Adrien, she seems to be more capable of handling top-secret information with Marinette, and more importantly, doesn't view being Rena Rouge as a way to have fun like Adrien does being Cat Noir. I'll go more into detail with that next time.

But yeah, this scene is how the episode ends, and what did I think of it?

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I'm honestly not sure which episode I think is worse, this one or “Queen Banana”. On the one hand, every frame of “Queen Banana” could easily be replaced by an image of Astruc flipping the bird and the overall message of the episode would remain unchanged, but the fact that all of the writers think that everything Adrien does in this episode is okay and that we should feel sorry for him in this episode is just as bad, if not worse.

As awful as Chloe was portrayed in “Queen Banana”, it was clear it was intentional on the writers' part, but Adrien doesn't get that excuse once much like he has all season. As far as Astruc's team thinks, Adrien is an incredible superhero even when he honestly attempted to harm someone with a superpower that can cause grievous harm at best. Yet again this season, in the show's attempt to make me feel sorry for Adrien, it made him look even worse. In any other show, he would obviously be called out for his incredibly unheroic actions.

Even putting him aside, the writing in this episode is still AWFUL. The whole reason Ladybug was benched had several plotholes and poor communication with Cat Noir that only made the fight with Robostus even harder, Shadowmoth's plan to waste a potentially useful Sentimonster to reuse a single Akuma was one of the dumbest plans he's ever had, and barring the ending, the action was just forgettable.

There were a few okay moments sprinkled throughout the episode (more than I can say for “Queen Banana”), so I'm still not sure if I should call this the worst episode of the show or still give that honor to “Queen Banana”. I guess I'll leave that choice up to you and let you pick your poison for now.

I mean, it's not like there's going to be an even worse episode down the line this season, right?

RIGHT???

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jossambird · 3 years

Text

The scent on your coat P5

Summary: Otto spends time to reflect on his life and his encounter with you and decides to go find you… Only to meet someone else.

Otto Octavius x F!Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: Fighting, mentions of bleeding, NS/FW Subjects, Doc Yearning, Doc Jealousy,

AO3 Link for Previous Parts or on my masterlist!

For the next few days after your encounter, Otto couldn’t shake the feeling inside his stomach after seeing you again, heart beating happily as the image of you sprawled out for him reappeared in his mind. Just how long had it been?

Nearly a year had he been forced into a life of criminality, and no matter how much time would have passed, nothing could have ever changed his ever growing love for you.

The stars over his head remained hidden, just like he had been after his accident. The memory of it all felt fabricated, like a story out of the newspapers, but it wasn’t, and here he was, tentacles and all, no longer living the same life as before.

The night he had broken into Oscorp, everything had felt much too nostalgic for his taste, yourself included. You weren’t supposed to be there, served like a decadent meal on display for anyone to see. But you had been, and now, that image would remain forever ingrained in his memory.

Seeing you again in his lab, panting and touching yourself had caused him to feel all kinds of emotions all over again, mainly jealousy coursing through his system until he heard his own name escape your lips as you came.

“Ive only ever wanted you.” The very words replayed in his mind, heart beating faster at the thought. Did you also harbour a deeper emotion for him, just like he did for you? During your employment together, becoming close to you had felt like heaven, your smiles and gentle accidental touches always making his days better.

Otto sighed, eyes turning back to the endless black sky, and wondered if you were looking up too.

The state of his marriage to Rosalie had laid heavy on his mind, long before your employment as his assistant. Otto could still remember the moment he knew it was done, knew that his heart had stopped beating for Rosalie: You had smiled at a successful test, a simple little thing really, but the beauty in that moment, witnessing first hand your joy, had gotten him.

The love he had once felt for Rosalie had long since passed before that moment, just as her love for him had as well.

He had always felt jealous when Harry would come and see you, touching you innocently infront of him and everyone. Though, the very act of watching you always reject Harry Osborn’s advances left fire in his veins, pride radiating off him when you would turn back to him, smiling shyly as Harry left. Oh how he had always wanted to push you against his desk and take you right there, show Harry who you belonged to.

Now, in hindsight, he regretted becoming distant after the whole Harry hug ordeal, remembering how you would try to talk to him afterwards, worry painting your beautiful features with each passing day.

Most of all, he regretted not being able to properly tell you how much he had missed you, and just how much he loved you…

He started moving in seconds, claws burying themselves into the brick and steel of buildings, making his way towards the hideous Oscorp building. Perhaps, you would be working a late night shift again, and perhaps, you would be open to speaking with a villain and old colleague once more.

‘Speaking’ was perhaps not the right word to employ for what could potentially transpire between the two of you after his previous promise to you but he held no expectations, excitement coursing through his veins at the mere idea of seeing you again.

As he approached the Oscorp building and scaled up to the roof, he was met with a bizarre sight, momentary confusion equally held in the other man’s eyes.

Before him, on the very top of Oscorp Industries, sat Spider-Man. In seconds, Otto launched himself at the younger man, frustration rolling off of him in waves at the idea of not being able to see you tonight because of little Peter Parker.

A few moments passed, attacks flying left and right, yet… Something felt off, Otto thought, watching as Peter merely deflected his attacks and stood out of the way, never stepping forward to actually harm him or to the tentacles. He was taking the hits alright, but never retaliating, only receiving, as if to punish himself-

“S-Say Doc Oc- Doctor Octavius, can I ask you something?” Spiderman stuttered out, barely standing in place, face turned away from the older man. The younger man paused, mind jumbled while the villain remained still before him.

Otto didn't know what to do with this bizarre turn of events, looking at Parker in confusion and suspicion. He must have hit the boy on the head, or perhaps he was drunk, using his name for the first time in ages. Otto huffed out in annoyance, he’d much rather go back to trying to throw him across town then answer whatever stupid questions-

“If you loved someone… TRULY loved them, and you found out they loved another… Would you let them go?” Peter cut off his train of thought, making the elder man freeze at the intimate question.

Otto Octavius, renowned Scientist and villain, felt speechless. Of all people whom Peter Parker could have asked… Why him? Was this why Parker kept missing his attacks, barely avoiding his claws, tumbling left and right like a drunk? A broken heart?

“Yes, I would set them free.” Otto uttered without a beat, instantly regretting opening his damn mouth at the sight before him.

“How am I supposed to do that?” Peter tried to let out, a loud sob escaping as he staggered to the rooftops ground, mask in hand while the other hand furiously wiped his tears away.

Otto suddenly felt as if he were back in his old apartment, answering all of Peter’s questions, laughing and thinking just how bright and kind this young man was. But now, it was another woman roaming the halls of his apartment in his mind, another woman turning the corner to see him, your brilliant eyes shining as you smiled at him.

“Sometimes, to do what's right… we must be steady and give up the things we desire the most. Even our dreams.” Otto threw back the boy's own words that he had told him ages ago, knowing that despite everything, it was true. It was hard not to remember just how human they both were, and just how young Peter Parker was.

His eyes landed on the younger man once more, watching as Peter tried to regain a sense of decorum, despite the sobs that still shook his shoulders.

“Are they the one who told you they love someone else?” He asked after a beat, mild curiosity coursing through him as he tried to remember who Peter Parker had been interested in except that poor Mary Jane. The younger man let out a wet chuckle, surprising Otto as the boy smiled widely, fondly.

“She didn’t need to, she's always loved him, even if he didn’t know.” Peter uttered but shook his head, unmasked eyes turning up to look at the villain.

“She- she worked with him. They were pretty close.” Peter swallowed, sorrowful eyes turning away from the man.

“He left, and never came back, for her or his work. I'm the one who helped her pick up the pieces.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, our wedding is in a few days.” Parker smiled softly as if reliving a memory, eyes and skin blotchy red from his tears. He lifted his hand in the air, wedding band shining in the moonlight.

Silence reigned between the two men, a gentle breeze caressing Otto’s cheek as his mind ran wild, trying to discern who Peter kept alluding to, eyes turning towards the city around-

“You know, she loved you. Really love you.” Peter whispered with a laugh, but it didn’t matter, Otto had heard him loud and clear, body freezing at the younger man's implication.

“She loved you, waited for you. But you never came.” Parker continued, taking the man's silence as an invitation to be quiet.

The silence felt all too stifling, until a tentacle shot out from behind Dr Octavius, grabbing Peter by the throat and throwing him against the brick wall beside them. Emotions swirled in Otto, thoughts and memories flashing before his eyes as he imagined you with Peter Parker, imagined you under the boy, moaning Peter’s name instead of his own. Soon to be married, Y/N Parker.

The very thought of it all and the thought that Peter had had you under him caused liquid hate to course through the Scientist’s veins, wondering if Peter had ever been able to make you cum just as he had, remembering the way you’d gripped his hair and moaned HIS name, crumbling so beautifully under his tongue.

A growl escaped him as he launched after Peter, tentacles whipping right and left to try and catch the little shit.

Most of all, he imagined you disappearing forever, married to a boy, never to see HIM again. Never again would he hear you moan, never again would he hear you say his name, and most of all, never again would he see you smile for him. All of the dreams he had had of a life with you, ripped away because of Peter Parker.

Otto blinked, looking up to see the tentacles enthusiastically attacking Peter of their own volition, reacting to his jealousy, anger and sorrow. Though the scene before him took Otto Octavius by surprise, watching as Peter barely avoided the Claws, taking each hit that landed.

Otto watched the young man for a moment and decided, upper right Claw clasping itself around Peter’s throat, dragging the boy forward. Blood trailed down Parker’s mouth and nose but his quick hands reached out and grabbed Otto’s coat, hazy eyes focusing on his ex-Mentor.

Suddenly, Peter’s blue eyes sharpened, mouth opening to try and speak.

“P-Please, tell me… Could you love someone, be IN love with someone, as you are now?” Peter whispered, coughing up blood as he ground out his words, red splattering over Otto’s black turtleneck and leather coat.

“Pardon me?” Dr Octavius bite out, faltering for a moment at the way Peter watched him, as if trying to discern something important, shaking hands firmly balled in his coat.

“If you had that one chance right now, to tell her- to tell the person that you love that you want to be with them for the rest of your life and make them happy as you are now, tentacles and all, would you do it?” Peter asked, and in the brief second that followed his question, no matter how jealous he felt at the fact that Peter Parker had had you first, images of you coursed through his mind, your voice repeating every sentence you had ever told him. Peter’s little blunder had also not escaped him, the word ‘her’ ringing in his ears.

“In a heartbeat.”

Peter remained still under the claws hold, visibly debating something.

“Sometimes, to do what's right, we must be steady and give up the things we desire the most. Even our dreams.” The boy repeated once more, and even though Peter had thrown those words at him once before, now, it seemed the words weren’t for him. No no, instead, they were for Peter himself. Tears rolled down Peter’s cheeks once more but a smile appeared, tired eyes looking up at Otto.

#Im not feeling very sure how these chapters are landing #otto octavius x reader #doc ock #doc ock x reader #otto octavius #doctor octavius #jossambird fic #the scent on your coat fic #opinions and thoughts would be marvellous #doctor octopus

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