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kairiscorner · 8 months

Note

So I was watching the live adaptation of the addams family (released in 1991)

AND MHIEEEE,,,,,,,,

There’s this one scene where Gomez is looking down at Morticia

And his dialogue…..

“Look at her. I would die for her. I would kill for her.”

AND I CANNOT, FOR THE LIFE OF ME, STOP THINKING ABT MIGUEL IN THIS SCENE

Like babes have we ever considered gothic!miggy b4 bc

Bc….

ATE NALOLOKA NA PO AKO SAYO /hinimatay ngl i can't see current miggy as a goth, but younger miggy? oh hell yeah, he'd probably try out a goth aesthetic huhu MMMMMMM I WANNA WRITE THIS NGL ACK

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

i mean it when i say... i'd kill for you, i'd die for you. – miguel o'hara x reader

there are times when he has to ask himself, really get himself thinking–"why am i still spider man? for what am i saving all these people who i've never even met before, taking hits from overzealous, insane villains so nobody else gets hurt even though they don't even thank me in the end... living despite the pain of living, loving despite the risk of having my heart broken–that i would be the reason of a loved one's heartache and suffering?"

there are hardly any times when questions of severe existentialism are ever answered early by the vast universe; the answers are hidden, muddled by the cosmos that keep expanding, never to be known by any living mortal–at least, not directly. miguel's dilemma is such, for truly, what is his life when put into the perspective of the grander scheme of things? what is the meaning behind the life he lives when he cannot even get a moment of rest until he's in the grave? what does he come home for, only to leave that home all over again and come back who knows when?

as he swings home, making minimal noise and conspicuous movements towards the window of your bedroom with miguel–he stares for a moment into the room. he's greeted to the very familiar sight of you sleeping soundly by your side, hopefully not suffering any internal turmoil that would discomfort you in your slumber. as you lay there, with your eyes shut and mouth slightly parted–gently snoring and mumbling in your sleep–with the moonlight illuminating your gentle figure, fragile frame... miguel has the answer to a his pondering answered in that one scene of his evening–of his life.

he mustered the courage to enter the room, quietly crawling in like a thief in the night. he shut the window closed after entering and dissipated his suit–leaving him in a pair of dark color briefs. he got under the covers, hoping not to wake you from your seemingly peaceful sleep, and once he snuggled up next to you... he found himself holding his breath in, as if anticipating that at any moment, the multiverse would part you from him and keep him as he always was before you came: miserable, lonely, and empty–without meaning.

your sleeping face was turned to his side, your eyelashes and lips looking so ravishing to miguel to pepper with kisses–your nose looking so... biteable. he smiled to himself slightly and gently pushed back a small lock of your hair behind your ear, shifting his face to move closer to you, to gaze into your lovely face and just soak in all of you.

"look at you... oh, the things i'd do for you; i can't even begin... to tell you..." he muttered, having a one-way conversation with your sleeping figure. he brushed the back of his finger against your cheek slowly, savoring the feeling of your warm skin. "i do all these things, all these things nobody thanks me for, to keep you safe–to see you in this very bed, to hold you another night, see you another day and hear your voice speak my name and tell me you love me..." he murmured, moving his face closer to yours–your lips almost touching, his nose poking yours.

he exhaled and smiled gently up at you. "i mean it when i say i'd die for you... i'd kill for you. nobody else matters to me, not anymore, when all i have left is you." he whispered as he leaned his forehead against yours, giving your nose a small kiss, taking your hand in his and gently squeezing it. whether you heard him or not didn't matter, miguel had finally gotten his answer from the universe somehow–and miguel would repeat to you that answer from the universe again and again and again.

you're the only one he has now, the only one who's never left him and has defied what the multiverse has in store for him–you're all that he loved, loves, and will ever love–until the end of time and space itself, you are all that he wants and needs.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck @melovetitties @arachnoia @fictarian @yuridopted0 @ophanimgold @meeom @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @popeheywardssecretgf @smokeywhalee

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comshipbracket · 8 months

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Antis DNI

Remember, you are voting for the ship you prefer, not the ship you find more problematic

Propaganda for both ships under the cut.

Kaeluc Propaganda (Pseudo-incest)

"I love them. In terms of canon -- they have very friends -> enemies -> lovers energy to me. It's not canon when exactly Diluc's family adopted Kaeya, but I like to headcanon Diluc got his vision BECAUSE of Kaeya in some way. And if you know about Genshin lore you know that's a crystallization of his soul and therefore represents his desires and goals. I like to think Diluc's loved Kaeya before he even really understood what that meant - that's why Diluc was so upset when he thought Kaeya had "betrayed" him during the fight they got into. They're both the sort to blame the fight on themselves and think their love is unrequited because of said fight; Diluc because he seriously hurt Kaeya (in canon even injuring his eye) and Kaeya because he picked a day where Diluc was already raw and upset to reveal he'd been keeping a pretty big secret from him. These two men are so very sad and I think they should kiss about it."

"listen red and blue sad bitches are always peak but these two are PRIME angst and healing material, and the game and its extra content consistently go out of the way to make sure we associate these two with eachother. fire and ice, light and dark, kaeya is currently in the knight position that diluc specifically gave up because of what happened to their father, this shit is SO biteable."

Sebaciel Propaganda (Age Gap - Ciel 11 and Sebastian 1000+, Species Difference)

None that fits the bracket provided - feel free to Reblog with your own propaganda for this ship's advancement in the bracket

However! Propaganda has been added by @lecalcifer and @greta-monroe Here and by @alfiely-art and @gearbox-dollhouse Here (Yes, one of the propagandas is legitimately a Roomba.) Check them both out!

#comshipbracket #antis dni #antis do not interact #comship #comship safe #proship safe #comship bracket #comshipbracket round 2 #Kaeluc #Kaeya Alberich #Diluc Ragnvindr #Genshin Impact #Sebaciel #Black Butler #Sebastian Michaelis #Ciel Phantomhive

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anauro · 2 years

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hi roc!! i finally have the time and emotional capacity to type my very long "Thoughts" re: dass into your ask box :) i sent you the previous ask right after finishing my reread and i kid you not -- life immediately dipped right after. sooooo, here i am. a few days late :[[ -------------- 1) Regulus as a doctor. Okay, OKAY. I cannot tell you how much i appreciate the way you've written regulus as a doctor. Dass!Regulus -- through representation -- provides such an honest insight into some of the pits of most healthcare systems. I've never gotten to see the depth in his characterization as a doctor until MY sister started having trouble with hers. There is one flaw to regulus as a doctor that i think shines: The way he falls back on textbook knowledge when it comes to james. It's such a good and well thought out flaw. He likens, the hit of nicotine from a cig to that of what james usually takes -- or at least thinks they're somewhat comparable. And james finds this amusing. He refuses to acknowledge the doctor in charge of the clinic concerning James' dental visit. He falls back to what he knows as hard facts through what he's learned in med school, thinking it simply is the most logical approach, when simple, rigid, textbook knowledge often lack/s important insight. what happens? james ends up in pain much, much, faster than he should've had. when james was clearly struggling with withdrawal, the way regulus simply offered anti-sickness medicine and paracetamol to james just. felt. so. off. detached? and i know, in that particular scene, it may also have something to do with his and james' early relational distance. but, it does, very much tie into the fact that regulus, even with all his medical knowledge, has much to understand regarding james' needs and current condition. he thinks the science is "sciencing" but it's not. the thing is, regulus isn't stupid! gosh he's so far from that. and you've continuously established reg's prodigal skills. aside from him being a junior anaesthetist, dass!regulus simply mirrors today's reality. we see doctors as great scholars. surrounded by all that knowledge, sometimes it's hard for them to see how what they know, isn't always enough. they're not all-knowing. and for the science to science -- you need insight and empathy. otherwise, there can be observational gaps. for doctors, it's a tight line they have to walk between asserting their professional knowledge and, well, taking into account a patient's unique needs. when they lean far too much on the former it's the patient who suffers.

i think, the way you've taken the time to write regulus out this way is so... very cool of you. i wish i could've noticed much sooner. P.S. this ask was supposed to have more than one item but -- hehe i've made this one wayyyyyy too long!! sorry T^T i do believe that i have to send this one out first ~

Hiya!

Omg, thank you so much for popping back!! 🫶🏼 I do hope life picked up again now 🤞🏼

This answer turned out to be a bit long so I’m gonna put it under the cut and content warn it as addiction talk and inequalities in healthcare (also pls do not reblog)

So yeah, doctor Regulus and addict James really can be summarised as “science isn’t sciencing”. You’re right, Regulus is smart and not just smart enough to be a doctor, but one of the smartest in his hospital (I think it’s Marlene who mentions it that he’s the youngest to pass the exams and anaesthetics is known for having the hardest exams) and yet James puts him in his place really easily.

Regulus tries to break down James’ problems into biteable chunks and fails to realise that’s not how James experiences it. He doesn’t want anything for the nausea or the pain or the insomnia, and part of it is cause he genuinely doesn’t want to bother Regulus and doesn’t think he deserves help with these, but also that’s not what bothers James the most. He’s not gonna go and take drugs cause he’s vomiting, he’s gonna do it cause he can’t cope with the Harry situation, his parents, his crush on Regulus…. And Regulus’ sole reaction to it is “everybody has problems. Go to therapy.” Which is probably very reasonable and kind of what James needed to hear, but also does highlight Regulus’ lack of understanding of how people who struggle with addiction process things and deal with problems.

And James remarks on how Regulus already treats him better than doctors at the hospital did, whilst at the same time Regulus chastises himself for not being understanding enough. And as Regulus’ feelings towards James develops, he starts to compartmentalise James into his and addict, failing yet again to realise these two are the same person. Which. As you may have predicted, will cause issues further down the line as James can’t hide the addict side of himself deep enough.

But the overarching theme of doctors and other healthcare workers in all healthcare systems lacking to distinguish textbook knowledge from what’s in front of them is a huge topic and a sad one. It doesn’t affect just addiction, but also ethnic minorities, people with disabilities (ask any diabetic how easy it was to do their insulin whilst in a hospital and you’ll know) and members of the LGBT community, especially trans people. Ranging from basic nomenclature issues (only having F or M as gender or font on paperwork being too small or otherwise inaccessible for disabilities) to blunt oppression (not respecting pronouns, asking questions not related to current health needs).

I understand there’s only so much that can be taught at universities (or else the courses would be 10 years long lol) and just the pure clinical knowledge is heaps to learn, but I think that’s a poor excuse for not teaching healthcare workers basic empathy and understanding of challenges they might face whilst looking after patients outside of the “white, rich, able bodied and cishet” population.

Anyway, its a topic I could talk on forever and I don’t think anyone would be particularly interested, but the bottom line is: healthcare workers are amazing and brilliant people, but they need to constantly educate themselves on topics that are not pure science, but yet are inseparable part of their jobs. And the healthcare system should encourage that, both by providing resources as well giving time off to learn all those things and reward those who do. Needing to go to a hospital is stressful enough without having to worry about being, bluntly put, disrespected.

#roc answers #dass #drugs and surgical scrubs #tw addiction #tw drugs #tw transphobia #tw ableism #tw healthcare #do not reblog #please

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itsybitchylittlewitchy · 3 years

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The New Arrivals- Part 2

Thank you all so much for your lovely comments on the first part! as promised here's part 2. It's past 3am here and I just couldn't stop writing once I started. Please let me know if you want me to continue writing this, because I'm loving it so far!

Part 1 here!

Part 3 here!

Pairing: Loki x Female reader

Summary: you are Y/N the Goddess of Victory, niece of Tony Stark and you run the Avengers training facility based in the highlands of Scotland. Some unexpected visitor arrive and interesting events follow...

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: SMUT (18+ Don't make me ban you horny teens) Female receiving Oral and some bad language.

Any Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all the love on the first part. You guys are amazing!

The look on the famous God of mischief’s face was a picture, he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from the niece of Tony Stark, but he certainly wasn’t expecting a Goddess. Much less a Goddess he had never heard of before, especially one so beautiful. Snapping him out of his thoughts was the hand extended to him from this beautiful creature he desired to know more about. “Lady Y/N” Loki purred into her hand, “what an unexpected pleasure to meet a beautiful Goddess I know nothing about” he gushed as he placed a kiss on your extended hand. You blushed unexpectedly and involuntarily. You knew the silver-tongued God by reputation alone and of course what Thor and Uncle Tony had to say about him, but you where pleasantly surprised by the beautiful, eloquent God before you. Nothing at all like the rumoured monster who had attempted to conquer New York in the years past. Captain Rodgers took point ensuring the Asgardians disembarked and got settled into their temporary accommodation, as you took Thor and Loki to the main office to discuss what had happened and sort out a plan of action for going forward. As you walked ahead with Thor, discussing what he would need from you to look after his people you could feel Loki’s eyes on you as he walked behind the two of you in thoughtful silence. Once you arrived at your office: a large room, furnished with a sleek black glass desk, purple velveted furniture with gold accents and a wall of floor to ceiling glass windows that overlooked the exterior training grounds, rolling hills and surrounding woodland, all glistening in the mid-afternoon rain. As you took a seat behind your desk, with a wave of your hand your laptop appeared out of the purple haze and a black and gold tea set appeared on the table in between Thor and Loki, including a large stein of cold beer for Thor. “You’ve had quite a day” You finally say to break the silence, looking at the two exhausted and beaten Gods in front of you. “Uncle Tony tells me he’s made arrangements for your people to be housed at a local village on the coast, but it will take some time to ensure there’s suitable accommodation for everyone, and your people will need to be debriefed on what to expect now they’re living on earth.” You say attempting to distract yourself from Loki’s alluring gaze. “Focus Y/N!” you internally yelled at yourself, “you have a job to do here, a lot of people are counting on you, so stop looking at his damn biteable lips!” you thought while desperately gulping down your tea, like the thirsty bitch this God was turning you into. Loki began to smirk again and supress a laugh while maintaining an amused look at you, smirking into his tea. Your blood ran cold and your cheeks where on fire as you remembered the other skill the God of mischief possessed. He can read minds. “Shit” you thought, “Caught out”. “My, my, darling don’t shy away now, you were quite keen on ravishing me just a few moments ago, why disappoint me now. Don’t tell me the Goddess of victory is shy.” A sultry yet mocking voice in your head purred, interrupted by the booming voice of Thor excusing himself to leave with the reappeared Captain Rodgers, to check on his people and visit the infirmary to deal with his missing eye. Leaving you alone with Loki. “fuck”.

Walking round to the front of your desk you towered above the seated Loki, “Lets get one thing clear here Mr Laufeyson. I…”, “Darling call me Loki” he grinned interrupting you, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. “I’m the one in charge here Loki, and we need to set some ground rules here. Rule one is respect people’s privacy, I don’t appreciate you reading my thoughts”, “understood” Loki smiled, while raising his hands in defeat, “I apologise Lady Y/N, I was overly curious to know more about you as you have me at a disadvantage. I wasn’t aware there was a Goddess of Victory”. You relaxed at his explanation, leaning back to perch on the edge of your desk you begin to explain. “Well, I honestly don’t know too much myself, my mother was human, her name was Gail Potts, she died when I was born, and I never knew my dad. I can only assume that’s where the Goddess side came from, but to put a long story short I was raised by my Aunt Pepper and when she married Uncle Tony, I went to live with them, until I was sent abroad to the UK for school where I met Thor when he landed on earth and tried to fly off with my teacher Miss Foster. He was the one who told me he could sense I was a Goddess, specifically the Goddess of victory. Basically, I can control luck, among other things. I can influence the fortunes of others for better or worse. I can manipulate and transport objects making them disappear and reappear, I can glamour my appearance and have a natural ability to win fights, whether its verbally or *cough* physical…” you say feeling more and more flustered the longer Loki Kept his eyes on you. Loki got up from his chair and slowly walked towards you, “I know how difficult it can be to not know who you are until later in life…” he paused looking deep in thought, “and I know what it’s like to lose your family.” He looked at you, his eyes beginning to glisten, he placed his hand on your cheek and gently stroked it, “It’s good to know there’s someone here who knows what I’m going through.” He smiled at you gently. You smile back, genuinely surprised at the sincerity in his words and quickly close the distance between you, kissing him gently and sweetly. You pull away in a panic, apologising, “I’m sorry, I barely know you…” and your interrupted by Loki pulling you back in for a deeper more passionate kiss, the type of kiss that makes you forget where you are as you start tugging at the God’s leather shirt to pull him closer and close what little distance was left between you both. You closed your eyes and tilted your head allowing him access to bite, suck and kiss his way down your slender neck as your thoughts raced with all the terrible things, you’d let this man do to your body. Loki looked to you for permission, your Y/E/C eyes nearly black with lust and frantically nodded as in one swift motion he ripped open your suit jacket, popping the gold buttons off as he went, then ripping your purple shirt to expose your lacy black and gold bra which hugged the curve of your breasts perfectly. Loki pulled down your bra and began to caress, kiss, and nip your sensitive nipples until you were practically begging him to take you, your fingers running through his luscious black locks, lost in the growing heat that was building at your core. He ran his tongue down your abdomen until he reached the buttons on your trousers, quickly peeling them off growling the kissing as he travelled lower to the black lacy thong you were wearing, he pushed it to the side and gently ran his fingers through your already slick folds, he chuckled, “So wet for me already. May I finally taste the sweet nectar of a goddess?” he asked raising an eyebrow, his hot breath on your core making you tingle desperate for more of his touch. You grabbed hold of his curly locks and pushed him towards your aching pussy until his tongue contacted your begging swollen clit and sent sparks of extasy through you. He grinned against your slick pussy at the moans of pleasure his tongue was able to pull from you, your magic occasionally sparking out uncontrollably and

sending objects on your desk flying across the room. No one had ever made that happen before, in the past lovers had come and gone, but this, was something new entirely. No one had ever made you feel this helpless or willing to surrender to their touch. Loki took two of his fingers and curled them deep inside your core, curling them until he hit the right spot that elicited a moan from you and sent more stationary crashing into the large glass window. As you reached your high you gripped onto his hair for dear life as you felt a wave of pleasure engulf you and the furniture in the room levitated and then crashed to the ground as you came down from your high. Loki got to his feet and kissed you deeply, letting you taste your own arousal on his tongue. He pulled back and smirked, “Is that the first time you’ve ever been worshiped correctly?”, “You sighed satisfied and grinned at his tousled hair and smug face, and for the first time in your life, admitted defeat. “Yes” you laughed slightly embarrassed. Loki just smiled, cleaned you up and dressed you with a wave of his hand and simply said, “It’s a good thing I’ll be here to teach you how to control your powers then. Of course, it will be like everything else, practice makes perfect my dear.”

If you want a part 3 please let me know! thanks for reading! :)

#loki #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki smut #loki x you #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki fic #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #fan fic #avengers fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #mcu loki

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freewithyourtempo · 5 years

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Argue me tender, argue me true (pt.5)

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

Warning for homophobic language.

As far as Mondays went, that had been quite tiresome.

First of all, Charles had suffered all day from the usual, thundering headache caused by having spent the weekend without the collar. His telepathy always slammed non-cooperatively against the cage of his mind at the beginning of the week.

Then he had been harassed in the corridor during the short break after Sociology, which was unoriginal. This time he had been accused of winning the genetic lottery as the scum of the Earth, being faggot and mutie.

He answered calmly that whilst there was a high chance that mutation had a hereditary factor, his appreciation for dicks was his own merit.

Also, he was bisexual.

He had been pushed against the wall for his trouble before anyone could intervene. His headache had worsened.

He had been so exhausted during the following lecture that he had not been able to wipe the floor with Lehnsherr's opinions.

His greatest regret.

He had just sat there at the back of the class, lulled by that familiar, husky voice, and had answered with a pained “no comment” when the professor directly and quite awkwardly had asked him if he really had nothing to add.

Contrary to what he had believed would happen, Lehnsherr hadn't appeared satisfied at all. He had peered at him with his biteable jaw clenched and a hazy look in his stormy eyes, then had turned his attention back on the professor.

Charles had felt a pang of disappointment at the quick dismission. The headache had worsened again.

Which explained his current location. In front of the door of the Infirmary well past midnight.

The corridor was empty, silent and dark. Charles could stretch his telepathy only for ten meters or so to scan his surroundings if he wanted to keep his head from splitting in two. All clear.

Now he only had to pick the lock, break in the Infirmary, grab some God-given painkillers for his otherworldly headache and go back to bed. Probably easier said than done.

But then again, his fellow students were able to smuggle in alcohol and joints, it would be dishonorable for him to fail to grab some medications and be caught in his pajamas with his nose in the Aspirin jar.

He was getting on his knees with his credit card in one hand and the torch of his cell phone in the other, ready to operate, when something fluttered against his telepathy. It was another mind, approaching.

Charles quickly turned off the torch and flattened against the wall. His heart was running wildly inside his ribcage, and he had to cover his mouth with his own hand to shut off his panting.

Fuck, he thought. And he kept on thinking it when the unmistakable light of a torch started painting a growing, yellow stain on the moquette in front of his crouching body. He seriously considered dropping everything and start running for his life, when…

“Xavier?”

Charles literally melted against the wall. “Lehnsherr?”

A blinding light showered him and Charles groaned painfully. “What are you doing over there?”

“Hiding from you,” Charles answered honestly, and got to his feet. He put the cellphone and the card safely away in the pockets of his oversized trousers. “I thought I was about to be busted.”

Lehnsherr finally directed the light on himself, showing a familiar frowning expression. Charles almost smiled at the sight. “Couldn't you feel me approaching?” He illuminated briefly Charles' torso. “You are not wearing your collar.”

“I could feel someone approaching, but I didn't know what your mind felt like before tonight. I should have dug deeper to get a hold of your name from your thoughts.”

And Charles realized that he actually had never sensed Lehnsherr's mind before. It was… thrilling. He couldn't help but poke lightly at it, as if testing its texture.

It was neatly organized, blunt and unyielding. It tasted vaguely of metal, which was deeply amusing, strong as steel, but also incredibly bright in spots that Charles started to follow like bread crumbs in a forest. He stopped abruptly on the threshold of one of Lehnsherr's memories of his mother and returned to the surface. “What are you doing here?”

“Same as you, I suppose,” Lehnsherr said, then smirked. His teeth glittered in the dark corridor. “Though not with a credit card.”

“It would have worked,” Charles muttered, and suddenly sobered. “Why the infirmary? Are you unwell?”

Lehnsherr fidgeted with his torch and very pointedly moved it away from his own face, but not fast enough.

“Darling,” Charles gasped, “what happened to your eye?”

“Darling?” Lehnsherr echoed, a choked sound, but Charles had already moved forward and was now holding his jaw with extreme care.

He gently turned Lehnsherr’s head so that an angry bruise the size of an apple was now staring at him. Charles instinctively traced its swollen rim with the tip of his index finger, light as a feather, and ended up caressing the paperthin skin of a temple. Lehnsherr shivered and Charles stepped away.

He realized what he had just done and the darkness swallowed his blush. He hid his hands behind his back.

It was surreal, talking without actually seeing each other; there were no physical proofs of existing boundaries between them, and no witnesses. Their voices rose from barely illuminated, ghostly bodies and lingered in the charged air of the night.

“It was a punch,” Lehnsherr explained with a shrug. “A couple of hours ago. I didn't notice it had landed quite so well until I saw the bruise. Was hoping some ice could still help.”

Charles’ chest knotted in worry. “Did someone assault you?”

More fidgeting. “It was the opposite, actually. Knocked politely on the asshole's door and less politely knocked him out. It was a fair fight.” Lehnsherr smiled and winced right after. “Still worth it.”

Charles frowned, conflicted. “I'm sure you had your reasons to be cross with them, but you must know that violence is never the answer, my friend.”

He expected a roll of eyes and a scoff, but they never came. Lehnsherr tilted his head and looked right at him. “I really wanted him to regret what he had said.” Then he grinned, wide and playful. Charles had never thought Lehnsherr could actually smile so much; it was astonishing to see. “Besides, you cannot really lecture me about morality right now. Were you not trying to break in and stole from the Infirmary in the middle of the night?”

Charles folded his arms on his chest and lifted his chin. “I would hardly call it ‘stealing’, we don’t usually pay for that st-”

“Who's there?”

The disinterested, unknown voice had come from a couple of doors around the corner, and Charles looked at Lehnsherr with what was probably pure horror. He whispered frantically: “Do we actually have a night patrol?”

He saw Lehnsherr rolling his eyes, then everything went dark.

He heard a mechanical click, the dragging of a wooden door against the moquette, and suddenly he was being pulled by his arm into the Infirmary.

They stopped just as abruptly after a few steps, and in quick succession, Charles collided with what was probably Lehnsherr's broad back, bounced, heard another soft click, and hit the closed door with the back of his head.

He oofed painfully, and something flew to cover his mouth before he could utter another noise.

He held his breath and listened. The sound of heavy steps stopped on the other side of the door, and Charles heard with his heart in his throat the shuffling of the door being pulled.

The door against his back didn't give in an inch, and a few moments later the steps went away.

Lehnsherr turned the torch on again, and Charles’ just acquired looseness vanished in an instant.

The other man’s lithe body was hovering above his, tilted towards the door and effectively caging him against it.

Lovely people <3

@helene-of-spain , @youarerageandserenity, @why-cant-people-just-think, @auri-moon , @starkqnthony, @docty-strange , @starkxavier

(If anyone wants to be added, just let me know!)

Thank you all for liking and reblogging!

#cherik fic #my fic #amt pt.5 #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #cherik #cherik!au #college!au #enemies to friends to lovers #bickering

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bearsace · 7 years

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fatal attraction.

Summary: After a night of drinking, the chatelaine finds herself in the company of Akechi Mitsuhide and learns the meaning of fatal attraction.

Author’s Note: My first fanfic to this site! Usually I tend to publish on AO3, and I’ll get this imported on there at one point or another. I headcanon that MC’ll be able to match Mitsuhide’s alcohol tolerance in his route (this fic is strongly headcanon-based, seeing as we don’t have his route at all). ;) Hope you enjoy, and if you do, be sure to hit that like or reblog button for more content!

Pairings: Akechi Mitsuhide/MC

Genre: Romance, friendship

Rating: T for mild sexual content and alcohol use

Word Count: 2,400+

Read Time: 5+ minutes

Like a serpent blended in with the leaves, the danger had been there for hours by the time she’d noticed it. But the warning signs were there, and she should have seen them— from the first blackout (courtesy of Masamune slumping onto the table) to the last (Nobunaga, who’d excused himself to his room for a well-deserved rest), she should have known it would end up this way.

End up with her sitting cross-legged across from Mitsuhide, who calmly poured himself another cup of sake.

“Care for another helping?”

“Aren’t you the reason nobody else is sober right now? No, thank you.”

And so it went, the chatelaine snarking at the vassal through a half-intoxicated, half-sober scowl, the latter only chuckling with an amused “suit yourself” and treating himself to another drink.

Yet who knew that such a slender thing would be able to match a cultured, powerful viper of a man drop for drop in warm liquor?

The beginning of the party had been more vanilla than I had expected of warlords— the alcohol hadn’t even come out of the cellar until three hours in. It began only as a small celebration among Nobunaga’s vassals to celebrate a battlefield victory, if one could even call it that; it was more like winning a playground scuffle, but clearly one that was enough to merit a night in with drinks and card games.

It had been around eleven that the first red flags began to appear: Masamune had long since passed out and been moved to a futon in the far corner of the room, and Hideyoshi would clench in a hiccup every few seconds then disappear to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. It was then that I encountered him red in the face, smiling lazily, and chugging a glass of the stuff in an attempt to cool down.

“I’m surprised you’ve managed to last this long,” Hideyoshi quipped, biting his lip in a suppressed smile. “I never would have expected you to be able to outdrink all of us. You look more sober now than I was three drinks ago.”

“I can hold my alcohol, Hideyoshi.” I gave a grin of my own, following him back out to the main room, a platter of snacks balanced skillfully on my arm. “Where I come from, a girl learns to drink.”

“And good thing, too. You’ll want to be sober around the likes of Mitsuhide.”

“Mitsuhide?” I frowned, casting a sidelong glance in the direction of the man in question. “What do you mean?”

“Just what it sounds like.” A grudging laugh. “That snake could drink a thousand cups of wine and not even get a little tipsy.”

And with that warning, Hideyoshi gave a long stretch and sprawled across a cushion, tucking his glass close to his body, and closed his eyes.

A thousand cups, huh? I could feel my frown deepen as I observed Mitsuhide chatting wih Ieyasu, golden eyes as sharp as ever. No way I’m letting that rat get a one-up on me . . . I’ll just have to stay alert.

As with all women determined as myself, I focused on calculating carefully just how much I could drink without falling prey to drunkenness, and with great success. The hours ticked by, and so did our companions, excusing themselves to their rooms or simply passing out on the spot.

But there was one crucial detail I’d missed in my calculations: just what I would do with my sobriety when the only two still lucid were myself and the shifty vassal, Mitsuhide.

(Really, I could have thought ahead and avoided this altogether.)

Nerves completely fried, I wrung my hands on my lap beneath the table, avoiding eye contact with the man as he lapsed into steady silence following Ieyasu’s departure. And oh, how I dearly wished I could do the same— if it weren’t for my severe distrust of Mitsuhide with an unconscious Hideyoshi snoozing blissfully on the couch, I would have been out the door in seconds. But as it was, I didn’t have the physical strength to move a guy like Hideyoshi somewhere safer or the trust necessary to leave him alone with the man I was left alone with myself.

Even if a small, deeply buried part of me insisted there was more to him than I expected.

“Seamstress.”

An electric shock ran down my spine at the baritone voice, deceptively gentle and smooth and yet enticing at the same time. My senses snapped back to Mitsuhide— perhaps I wasn’t as in control as I thought— and I raised an eyebrow, questioning.

“Do you plan just to sit there the entire night? That’ll get incredibly boring for me, you know.”

“Be bored, then, Mitsuhide. Sorry I’m not your personal jester.”

“I wonder, then, why you’re still here.”

Because Hideyoshi will probably kill me if he finds out I willingly left him unconscious with you!

“I know what you’re thinking,” I retorted, lips turning downward into a scowl. “And no, it’s not for the pleasure of your company.”

“Then I suppose it’s to protect Hideyoshi from me while he’s passed out and vulnerable like that.”

This damn snake! I swear, is he telepathic or something?

“It’s quite alright.” Mitsuhide lifted the cup of sake to his lips— this had to be at least his eighth one!— and took a long sip, eyes gleaming over the rim as he regarded me with interest. I squirmed beneath the gaze, feeling like an ant under a magnifying glass. “Your mistrust is well-placed.”

Alarm bells flared in my mind, screeching and blaring like the inside of a firehouse. I narrowed my eyes. “So you admit it, then?”

I didn’t know what I expected of the man sitting across from me, demeanor calm and eyes teasing. But I didn’t expect this pit of disappointment in my stomach, so faint it was barely there, to settle so surely. Disappointed. Not surprised. Yet a flicker of what I could have sworn was sadness flashed through those gold eyes, gone before I even registered it was there.

Mitsuhide didn’t answer. instead, he let down his cup and twirled it on the table between long, elegant fingers. He smiled at me— that crafty, secretive smile that made my muscles tense up each time I saw it. Yet it was almost friendly and genuine, as if we were two long-time friends sharing an inside joke.

An inside joke? I found myself intrigued at the notion, seeing as my feelings for him were certainly more intense dislike than anything else. Hideyoshi and Nobunaga wanted so much to believe that he wasn’t a traitor that I found myself doing the same, but the frustration that he always brought about was nothing to be ignored. I blinked, realizing I didn’t know much about him at all. Come to think of it . . .

“I think this is the most time I’ve ever spent alone with you, Mitsuhide,” I blurted, breaking the silence. He seemed surprised as I felt, that I was the one to initiate a new conversation. Nevertheless, I leaned forward. “Everytime we’ve spoken, it’s in a group and I’ve never really bothered talking to you.”

“Never bothered? That stings.” The way his smile didn’t waver told me it didn’t sting at all. “But you’re right. You and I haven’t ever gotten to know each other.”

Quicker than I could comprehend, he leaned forward across the table as well, propping himself up by his elbows until we were almost nose-to-nose; I became acutely aware of the way the distance between us seemed to grow infinitely smaller, and I could see what felt like every detail of his handsome face.

And I’d never noticed before, but Mitsuhide had a very handsome face.

It was impossible to deny the allure of his fine bone structure or his knife-edged jawline, or the way his eyes were tilted at just the precise angle that, as he studied me from beneath those lashes, I couldn’t help but lose myself in the lamplight reflected on those gilded hues.

Mitsuhide’s warm breath mingled with mine, smelling faintly of cinnamon and honey and sake. His well-defined cheekbones seemed so sharp and yet so soft at the same time, and I resisted the urge to reach over and caress them— a sudden heat came over me, and I slammed backward and away from him.

The outside world came back to me in full force at the sudden distance. I hadn’t realized that I, too, had been leaning forward, closer to him, until I registered how far back I had to move to be at arms’ length. I was hit with the smell of the common area— a smell of alcohol and smoke and strong incense— not unpleasant, but rude compared to the way I’d felt like I’d been getting intoxicated off Mitsuhide’s sweet scent of cinnamon and honey and sake. My mind drifted to risque images of being surrounded by that aroma, feeling him overpower my senses—

I broke off the thought with a groan and pulled my hair back, fanning my face and ignoring my pledge to stay sober. Mitsuhide lifted a brow when I desperately snatched away his unfinished cup of sake and greedily downed it— I would do anything to chase away those thoughts from my mind, memories of a long, biteable neck and the desire to kiss away that smile.

Who would have known that of all the men here, it would be Mitsuhide to turn me into a creature of lust?

“I’m leaving,” I rasped, my voice sounding needy and fervid to my own ears. I stood abruptly, face hot with anger. I refused to look at him— I could almost see the triumphant smirk on his face, how he surely knew the way he affected me.

But then he echoed,with genuine curiosity, “You’re leaving? Where?” and I looked his way to snap at him before the words died on my tongue. Because there, written clear as day on that face, was disappointment.

My mind launched into an immediate list of scenarios— he’s only pretending he doesn’t know what he just did, don’t think he’s innocent— before I shooed them away, desperate to make my way to the cool night air.

“I don’t know. I’ll go into town, probably. There are still some shops open, and so I might just buy some food there.”

“Don’t go.” He spoke it with such commanding force that I faltered for a moment, wondering what he meant by that. “It’s dangerous in town. If you really are that restless, then go take a walk in the gardens, inside the gates. But please, don’t let me be the fool who let you wander around so late at night. A pretty little thing like you is sure to come across trouble.”

Where that comment would normally wind me up, the new flavor that heated his sinful grin as he said it sent a fire raging through me, and all I could manage was a half-hearted, “Fine. But this pretty little thing thinks you’re a fool anyway.”

He let out a warm, throaty chuckle as I fleeted for the door, slowing only once I could look up at the moon and let out a sigh.

What the hell was that?

I’d had friends back home who’d always squealed on and on about the allure of dangerous men, but I’d never seen the appeal. Yet the picture of Mitsuhide in the soft orange glow of the lamplight was so vivid that I could still feel the warmth of his skin against mine.

Everything about him was deliberate. Every curve of his lips, every gleam in his eyes— it was all set with a purpose to entice, to lure thirsty mouths in with the promise of trust before clamping his jaws hard over anyone foolish enough to do so. I had no business falling for the trap.

Then why can’t you stop thinking about what happened in there?

I shuddered the thought away, trying to focus on the scenery around me and not the heated room only a brisk walk over.

The green foliage of the garden, colored navy in the night—

The stars overhead, brighter than they could ever be in the twenty-first century —

The crunch of gravel under a second pair of footsteps, and—

—and I was caught in someone’s arms, bent over backwards, my body pressed against his and his lips pressed against mine. It took me not even a moment to realize who it was; the scent of cinnamon and honey and sake engulfed me, the taste far sweeter than I would have imagined it to be.

Mitsuhide’s tongue ran along the top row of my teeth in earnest and I was kissing back with equal desperation, wrapping my arms around his neck and entangling my fingers in his hair and pulling him closer, closer. Our lips moved in starved desire: forceful on both ends and hot-blooded with the tension of the night. Lust exploded within me as I heard him respond to my involuntary moans with a carnal one of his own, deep and vibrating within the chest that was pulled flush against mine.

One large hand moved from my hip to grasp my cheek firmly, the other hand moving from its spot at the small of my back to trace a slow, teasing, burning line up the curve of my spine and between my shoulderblades, then back down. I could hear my own ragged gasps at the sensation, moving my grip desperately from his tangled hair to take fistfuls of the front of his kimono—

And just like that, it was over, just before I could get enough.

Mitsuhide pulled away, the cold night air that I’d desperately sought out earlier suddenly merciless without the warmth of being engulfed in him.

“What . . . what . . .”

I gasped for air, hair undone, kimono dishveled, as I gripped at my pounding chest while the insufferable man simply tidied himself and smiled at me like nothing had happened. Unbelievable.

“You never let me finish in there. Give what you hope to receive, my little chatelaine.” He gave a mocking bow, then straightened with a triumphant smirk. “I’ll be seeing you. I look forward to our next chance to get to know each other better.”

And Mitsuhide was gone like that, his tall form like a long cat striding back up the gravel path, leaving me behind.

I marched, indignant, to a bench and slumped onto it, catching my breath as a disbelieving laugh escaped me. So he knew what he was doing after all.

The nerve of that snake, talking as if there would be a next chance. But inside, I knew that whatever had awakened between the two of us tonight would refuse to go back to sleep.

“You know, Mitsuhide?” I murmured softly to myself with a smirk. “I look forward to it too.”

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #mitsuhide #akechi mitsuhide #ikesen fanfic #ikesen fic #ikesen mitsuhide #my fic #fic: fatal attraction #OTL i have three other fics i'm working on and yet i started this new one #why am i like this :')#anyway i hope you guys enjoyed!#i'd love to hear your thoughts ;]#it's very rushed and very unbeta'd but it had to be done :')#we're all a little thirsty for mitsuhide

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comshipbracket · 9 months

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Antis DNI

Remember, vote for which ship you DO want to see ending up on the official bracket amongst the other fandoms, only one Genshin Impact ship will make it through to the main poll bracket. Choose wisely!

Propaganda under the cut!

As always, feel free to reblog with your own propaganda and reasonings as to why one ship should move forward while another shouldn't!

Kaeluc Propaganda (Pseudo-incest)

NingLi Propaganda (Age gap, Species difference)

None provided - feel free to Reblog with your own propaganda for this ship's advancement in the bracket!

Lumaether Propaganda (Incest, Twincest)

"These two are such idiots about eachother and it is becoming the entire world's problem. You, playing one of them as The Traveler, are going on this ENTIRE journey to try and find the other twin. ALL OF THIS EFFORT is to be with them again. AND THEN WHEN YOU DO FIND THEM THEY TELL YOU THEY CANT COME HOME YET AND JUST FUCKING LEAVE LIKE BRO???? SIS????? GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE IM /SAD!!!/ anyways there's a lot of slow build to how you actually seem to be at odds with eachother's current goals, as you actually have to stop one of your twins' ridiculous evil/heroic plans.

At one point in the game we find out that the flowers in lumine's hair are the flowers of khaenriah, the nation the abyss twin is trying to revive. if you're playing as lumine, she mentions waking up with them in her hair…. which means abyss!aether had to go out of his way to find her while she was sleeping, put them in her hair, and NOT wake her right away. there's some reason to believe he was building the nation as a home for the both of them before things went south… what a sweet boy."

DottoScara Propaganda (Abusive dynamic, Age gap, Species difference)

None provided - feel free to Reblog with your own propaganda for this ship's advancement in the bracket!

#Antis DNI #Antis Do Not Interact #comshipbracket #Comship #Comship Safe #Proship Safe #Genshin Impact #Kaeluc #NingLi #Lumaether #Dottoscara #comshipbracket preliminaries

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