#there is nothing on earth that would have changed his mind and dare i say he was even doing the right thing in a way

[spiderlyla]

Tensions — Miguel O'Hara

🕸summery: your tense relationship with your boss is blooming into something you two refuse to give into.

🕸tags: miguel o'hara × fem!reader. reader is implied to be shorter than miguel. lots of tension, part two is out now.

🕸a.n: this was inspired by @general-dweebous 's idea of Miguel having an Anthony bridgerton-esque tension before having a full blown confession. will be taking inspiration from the lake scene and the lavender soap scene from bridgertone. hope you enjoy!

Miguel O'Hara and you are not friends, that was clear from the start.

You thought him an oaf, harsh and unforgiving, a man with a rage inside him that burned within his core like a thousand suns. He was impatient, barely listened, denied any help offered to him. The words 'world's greatest brain' on his mug seemed so odd to you, considering how idiotic you thought he is.

He did not like you either. He thought you reckless, stubborn, always speaking what's on your mind and standing up to him when no one ever dared. Having you in a meeting guaranteed him a headache. You were harsh with him, lenient on others. You never liked him, he never liked you. Nothing ever was going to change your minds. He was unredeemable to you, you were unbearable to him.

Sure. You'd find yourself staring at him. At his plump lips when he talked, at his condescendingly beautiful ruby eyes, at his nose that he scrunched up whenever he was irritated. You'd find yourself staring whenever he runs his hands through his dark locks, pushing back his stupidly soft hair out of his forehead. You'd find yourself staring at his body, his slim waist and broad shoulders, staring at how his muscles and abs ripped and moved underneath the tight fabric, at how anything looked small when held in his big palms.

And yes, sure, Miguel couldn't deny the way he looked at you when you walked into the room. The way he'd glance at your lips when you were berating him, the way he'd glance back into your eyes, momentarily holding your gaze. He couldn't deny the way he looked at you when you brushed past him, at how tight your suit was around your curves, the way his eyes would droop to stare at your hips when you moved, the way he'd clam up and sweat after you'd accidently touched him.

But that didn't mean anything. To either of you. Miguel O'Hara was always going to be a prick, you were always going to be a pain in his ass.

"You two are very similar, you know?" One of the Peters once said while the two of you were arguing. Miguel's head snapped towards him, you sneered and rolled your eyes.

"We are nothing alike." You said in the same breath, before the both of you took off grumbling under your breaths.

His relationship with you was unchanging, even if you two were great work partners. The way you two worked together always guaranteed a successful mission. You were delicate and graceful, a good negotiator. You'd lead the anomaly right into the trap Miguel had set up for them, you'd have have them exhaust themselves to the brink, and that's when he would go in for the final blow.

It was a running joke in HQ by now that the two of you are utterly inlove with one another, just too prideful to actually admit it. When asked about it, the two of you had different things to say.

"Okay, LYLA here! Just wanted to ask you about the rumor that you and Miguel are actually inlove!"

"Inlove? With that—With that dickhead? Is everyone out of their minds? If he was the last man on earth, I would never love him—Jeez, LYLA!"

"Hey boss, did you hear the new rumor?"

"Where are the tabs I asked you to open."

"There are rumors that you are inlove with—"

"I know about the rumor, LYLA. Now, could you please—"

"What's your opinion about it?"

"Sin comentarios." [No comment]

This rumor began to fade away little by little when you were seen hanging around Webslinger. Miguel noticed that you were almost always in a good mood if you were sent with him on a mission, or if you sat with him during tasks. It was good that you were getting off his back, he was suppose to feel relieved, but all he could really feel, was this nagging twig in his chest. Like something was tugging on his heart. You started asking him if he could send the two of you on more missions together, and begrudgingly, he would, but just so he could hear your stupid voice yelling at him when he critiqued you for being slippery, always saying that if he was there, the mission would've had no faults.

"Oh, why is that?" You once spat out at him, folding your arms over your chest, your beautiful eyes narrowing at him. "Is it because you're so good that no one does anything better than you? Patrick and I are compe—"

The phrase 'Patrick and I' made his heart clench, for no apparent reason. "It's because you and I make a good team. Always have. I'm simply stating the truth. It's not a matter of pride." He rolled his eyes, and you started arguing with him again. You hadn't argued with him for weeks when that happened, and for some odd reason, Miguel felt satisfied when he saw you marching out of the room, angrily mumbling and cussing him out.

"Yeah, boss, gotta say this isn't healthy." LYLA appeared by his shoulder, painting her nails. "You could just admit that you like her—"

"I don't." His hand moved to swish her away, causing her virtual nail polish to 'fall'. "Hey——Then why do you care so much if she goes with Webslinger or not? They make a good team too, never failed a mission together—"

"Its about efficiency, LYLA."

"They seem pretty efficient together."

"Can you—" He shot her a look, noticing how smudge she was about it. "Can you not."

LYLA just shrugged and continued to polish her nails. This game of back and forth with the two of you went on and on, with Miguel and you head-butting more often than not. You spent all your time with Patrick and your friendgroup, not even attending meetings Miguel spesfically made so the two of you could argue even more.

"If that's your love language," Jessica said, "Then honestly, I'm not surprised she doesn't want to speak with you."

"It's not a love—" Miguel groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "I just want her to care about her tasks like she used to. Pay attention to them."

"Pay attention to you, you mean."

"Por el amor de Dios—" [For the love of God]

And when a month passed without Miguel nagging you or bothering you, you started to get a bit shifty. He rarely even put you on missions with him, not bothering to invite you to meetings useless to you like he used to. You were glad he got you off the hook, but it wasn't just that. He was avoiding you, and it became pretty obvious even when you were in the same room as him.

Something changed about him.

He stole glances at you but would look away as soon as you looked up, he'd not engage in the conversation if you happened to be standing, he wouldn't even respond if you barked an insult at him.

"Why are you doing that?" You said to him, finding him standing alone on his platform. He tried to walk away, but soon realised you'd put him in a corner. "Doing what?" He asked, putting down the rapture vile on his desk. "You're....not bothering me as much."

"You asked to not be bothered."

"And you listened."

"Are you upset that I did as you wanted for once?"

"I'm surprised you did as I wanted. Since when do you listen?"

"Since when do you care?"

He took a step towards you, and you towards him. His chest bumped against your nose, and be leaned down, eyebrows knit closely. He finally met your eyes, having been avoiding your eye contact all night. His irsis were cloudy, something was on his mind. Something was brewing beneath the surface, the way he was looking at you was not what you were used to. "I...I don't." You whispered out. Your nose was filled with the scent of his minty cologne, your body heated up. Miguel shuffled in place, his eyes trailing from your eyes to your lips. He leaned in further, you could swear you felt his lips brush against yours. An electrifying spark pulled you away from the trance you were under, and it seemed it had gotten to Miguel too. He straightened up, clearing his throat.

"What do you want then?" He asked, now completely avoiding your gaze. You looked at the ground, frowning. "I want to be included in missions and meetings again."

"Ah, the work you neglected? You are remembering it now?"

"Oh, I was doing work, you know that, you put me in Tech and I went on all those missions with—" You paused, hearing a low sound. When you looked up, Miguel's lips were curled up into a small grin, his fangs protruding just a bit from the corners of his mouth. He was chuckling.

You folded your arms over your chest, biting the corner of your mouth to stop yourself from smiling. "You...You said that on purpose. To piss me off."

"Yo no." [I did not]

"Don't give me that."

"It isn't my fault you can't control your anger."

"Oh, Oh, Who's speaking?"

"Ay, por dios, eres tan atrevido. Just leave." [You're so sassy]

"Whatever."

You rolled your eyes and turned around, jumping off the platform and heading to the door.

"Hey," His baritone voice echoed through the room, you stopped in your tracks. "It's good to have you back." The smile you've been hiding all this time spread wide across your face, as you continued to angrily march towards the door.

That man drove you absolutely mad.

"I'll see you at Jess's welcome baby shower."

a.n: hi! you can check out more of my writings on my main blog: @spider999sposts :)

#spiderman 2099 x reader #spider man atsv #spiderman into the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #astv #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #spider999sposts

[sataraxia]

you're losing me.

miguel o'hara x fem!reader

summary: 'you're losing me' by taylor swift.

genre: angst, so much angst. basically a songfic.

warnings: cursing, violence, hard violence at the end, the reader shows signs of bpd. it "continues" the across the spiderverse plot.

a/n: i wanted to do this for a while now, i'm a fluff fan but a taylor swift one first. english isn't my first language so pls let me know my mistakes.

w.c: 13.2k

You have been with Miguel for more than a while now, just without a confirmation in between, there was never an "I love you", much less an " I’m sorry", but you two knew it, you cared for each other, and it would always be like that, no need for words.

But it was later that you really got to know the man you loved unconditionally.

You say “I don’t understand and i say, “I know you don’t”

“Love, you’ve been with that for a whole week, don’t you think it’s time to stop?” you said with no more than sweetness and care in your voice.

He didn’t say anything, not even look at you.

“I know that it’s important, but you haven't been eating, or sleeping well.” letting out a sigh, you tried to approach him. “I'm going out on a long mission tomorrow, you know, we could get dinner, or something.”

“I don’t understand how you could think that getting dinner is more important than this, and you should be working too, get out.” it was like he had put a wall between you two, ‘cause you didn’t dare to get closer than you were.

And it’s been like that for some time now, since the events of earth 1610, he’s been a workaholic, but you could take it, you always could.

“We thought a cure would come through in time..”

You’ve been out on this mission for almost three weeks, you missed your friends, missed Miguel, ‘cause maybe, just maybe, he was being himself again.

Of course not. When you arrived at the HQ, more specifically his office, the first thing you saw of him was a man yelling at a kid that a citizen was supposed to be dead, and the same fate was meeting the kid’s father.

The thing was, you didn’t really enjoy talking about canon events with Miguel, because you don’t like the term, in fact, you hate that he invented a word that justifies all the pain you, and everyone here, endured.

You wanted to do something, help Miles, but your thoughts were blurry, knowing that every decision you take from now on can change everything with Miguel.

“..now I fear it won’t.”

“Remember lookin’ at this room, we loved it ‘cause of the light.”

The chase after Miles already started, and you just stood there, while every other Spider-Man was trying to capture a kid.

You wanted to scream, most likely to the man who gave the order, but you had to stay on his side, right? 

At least that was what your body wanted, ‘cause suddenly you were in the platform, the one where Miguel had brought you everytime you were injured, where you had your first kiss and the so many more that followed.

You didn’t even think about it, you started helping Miguel telling him where you saw Miles in the cameras, opening the path for him.

“Now I just sit in the dark and wonder if it’s time.”

This was the man you’ve fallen for? the one that was hitting a kid, telling him that he shouldn’t even exist? you knew part of his behavior was because of his feral instincts, but trying to justify this was making you sick.

You saw how Miles was running for his life, feeling betrayed by his own people, hurting like hell just wanting to come home to his parents, that’s when it hit you, you couldn’t do this.

He reached the machine that would send him “home”, you could hear your lover yelling at you from the ear piece that you two shared “Shut it off! Come on!”.

“Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?”

Your thoughts were colliding in your mind, the typical “my heart wants something but my brain another” line sounding everywhere.

But time took the choice for you, Miles was already gone and you didn’t do anything to stop it, nothing came from the other side of the communicator, but you’ve never heard a silence quite this loud.

The fear that you were experiencing right now was almost unrecognizable. almost.

“I’m getting tired even for a phoenix, always rising from the ashes”

It was the same fear that you had the day he found you.

Like every other spider person, you had been through a lot, but it came to a point where your family didn’t acknowledge you anymore, the only friend you had died because of you.

So, you’ve always known you were a failure, thinking about it now, maybe the relationship you’ve built with Miguel it’s just because he was the first person that didn’t see you as one.

It was hard at first, learning that everytime your parents insulted you, all the times that you were punished by them, all they took from you, all that was supposed to happen, hell, it had to be like that.

With time, and with Miguel by your side, you grew comfortable in your position, you could stay with him forever, just like he promised all the times you crawled to him after a bad day or a bad memory. forever, right? 

“You might just have dealt the final blow.”

You were facing each other, he was always taller than you, but right now, you feel like the smallest thing in the world, you’ve known this feeling, and you don’t want that to happen with him.

But it was too late to want and not want things.

“Why didn't you do it? It was a simple button.” his voice was raspy, probably from all the yelling before, but he’s being cautious with you, the feeling in your stomach confirms it.

“I didn’t think like it was the right thing.” you didn’t tremble, he knows that you need him, but he also knows the woman you are.

“What?” that was it.

Silence, it could have been just seconds, but it feels like eternity to you, maybe because eternity was beautiful in your eyes, and what he started to say, definitely not.

“It’s incredible how after all this time, all of the effort I put on you, you show up to be just a disappointment, i don’t care what you think.”

“Stop.” he didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean it.

“Stop, you’re losing me.”

“No, you dont get for me to stop, I've always been there for you, I saved you again and again for you to turn your back on me? really?” you could feel the anger in his voice.

“Miguel, it's not like that, stop.” a little steps to get closer, you needed him closer.

“Stop, you’re losing me.”

“It is like that, it's always like that, you always fail and let me down, you don’t care about the real things because you’re stuck to keep suffering for some stupid thing that happened to you years ago, i'm tired of you being a nuisance to me.”

“My heart won’t start anymore..”

“What?” now it was your turn, without letting the tears take over your face. “I’m a nuisance? And what about you? the only thing you’ve been doing is watching on that little screen something that you could never have again, holding on to the memory of your mistakes, jealous that a kid can know beforehand and actually do something about it!” you know you don’t mean this, you know his suffering, but this was just too much.

“What I do is my business, but you work for me, you have to do what I say.” his tone wasn’t cautious anymore, his words were as thin as a dagger, was it always like that for him?

“I don’t work for you, i’m your-” he cut you off, almost instantly.

“You’re nothing to me.” he didn’t look at you when he said that.

“..for you.”

“What are you gonna do to that kid?” your voice was kinda broken, but you glared at him with storms in your eyes.

“Whatever is necessary to avoid him destroying a whole universe.”

“And the air is thick with loss and indecision.”

“Then I'm gone.” you turned away, he didn’t say anything, he didn’t look back.

He didn’t care if you were gone, he was letting you go just this easy, when your whole body was screaming at you that you should crawl to him, beg for his care and for his love, like you always did.

“Now you’re running down the hallway, and you know what they all say..”

That night, Miguel went to his room, that was yours too, expecting to find you a crying mess, it was always like that, you two had argued before, and he knows that he can fix this, by fixing you.

Opposite of his imagination, you weren’t there, all that was left was all your stuff, the clothes that he loved seeing you wearing, the gifts that he made, the ones that you made, all of it was there, but not you.

He forgot what fear was like, until he saw the little note you had left behind for him.

“i love you.”

It was the first time that one of you “said” that, and he hated it, hated his vulnerability, hated the short tear that was crossing his jaw now, but mostly, he hated you, for making him feel all of this and being gone.

“You don’t know what you got until it’s gone.”

“My heart won’t start anymore (‘cause you’re losing me).”

It had been three months now, you were helping Miles and his band, they were your friends now and they cared for you.

Mostly Gwen, you talked to her a lot, and she’s been helping you with your feelings.

You were miserable, you hated this so much, hated him so much.

The truth was that you were dying to go with him, you were so attached that it was completely painful, and you were fighting with yourself every day.

Because not matter how much you loved Miguel, you were on your own now, and you had the right to think and act for yourself, so if that means you have to be against him, even fight him, then you were going to do it.

That was what you said to yourself, but when the moment came, when all of your friends were fighting against the corporation you helped build, when the love of your life was in front of you, claws and teeth out, you were paralyzed.

“‘Til we were too far gone to bring back to life”

He was getting closer and closer, and some part of you was hoping that this was the man that didn’t even need words for you to know he loved you, the man that you would give up on your life from, you would do anything or everything for the things to go back to how they were.

“I gave you all my best me’s, my endless empathy.”

And that thought alone bothered you, why would you do everything for a man that was about to kill you if necessary? you were done with this.

You threw the first punch, as it was unexpected, he didn’t block it at all.

“And all I did was bleed as i tried to be the bravest soldier.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” your voice didn’t come off as he expected, you weren’t fragile anymore.

And so it began, he was a fighter and he wasn’t containing, you were hurt but you didn’t stop,for now you were blocking his claws and pushing him towards a kind of factory in the city, the farther away he was from Miles, the better.

“You’re not gonna kill a child Miguel, I'm not letting you.” he didn’t even care to respond, god how you hated that he wasn’t giving any signal of regret in all of this.

“You can still come with us, with me, you know?” of all the things he could’ve said, he chose that.

“Fighting in only your army, frontlines, don’t you ignore me.”

You didn’t respond, he kept talking.

“You are my best soldier, come on.” you were under him, he could finish this right now, you were bleeding and sore, he was too.

“I’m the best thing at this party (you’re losing me).”

The only reason you couldn’t hate him was the memories of what you had, but that, the attitude that he has on top of you, like your life was only in his hand, that he was portraying himself as your forever savior, you were boiling with rage.

You moved as fast as you could, pushing him off of you with the studies you had collected of fighting beside him, now you were on top, hitting at him with blood nubling your “pretty eyes” as he called them.

With that, he understood there was not a turning the situation, this was it, this is how it’s gonna end.

He grabbed you with all his strength and started shoving your body against the columns in the old fabric, along with this, he was telling you how disappointed he was, villainizing you for leaving him alone.

You couldn’t hear due to the damage.

“And I'm fading thinking do something, babe, say something.”

Blow comes, blow goes, you weren’t thinking of what you were doing, you were so mad that he wasn’t saying something, that he prefers this before taking the risk of believing in you.

“I hate you.” you thought about every time, how he manipulated you, how he controlled every feeling and idea in your head, and you hated how much you would love to stop this and go back to that.

“Lose something babe, risk something.”

He wasn’t fighting back anymore, the floor was cold and every punch that touched his skin made him feel warm.

He was regretting everything, he didn’t care about Miles now, he didn’t care about another universe anymore, he only cared about you, the universe of his own.

“I did everything for you, I would've died only for you, I would've even killed Miles for you, and I think I would still do it if you just choose me!”

You were letting it all out, not even listening to the voice of the man under you.

“Choose something, babe, i got nothing to believe, unless you’re choosing me.”

You were tired, couldn’t throw anymore hits, and that’s when you noticed, he was barely breathing under you, mumbling some words that you haven’t heard.

Your body didn’t move, you freezed.

“Stop, you’re losing me.”

Miguel used his last strength to clean some of the tears that were traveling down your cheek, you could now hear what he was saying.

“I’m so sorry, amor.” it’s the first time you’ve seen a genuine smile.

“Stop, stop, stop.”

You know there was nothing to be done, and no one could help right now, it was just you and him like it was in the beginning.

“I love you.” you whispered to him, grabbing his hand.

“I love you too.” he closed his eyes.

“I can’t find a pulse, my heart won’t start anymore.”

#writing #spiderm #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #miguel o ' hara #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o hara x you #miguel o hara angst #angst #songifc #taylor swift #youre losing me #sataraxia #spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #hard angst #writers on tumblr

[droogiesanddiscourse]

“I’ll Fake God"

Pairing: Herbert West x GN!Reader [Re-Animator 1985]

Summary: A lab accident renders you on the brink of death with little to no hope for recovery. But Herbert isn't about to let the only person he's ever loved to leave his life so quickly.

Warnings: Body horror, death, the usual re-animator content.

A/N: we love the angst. Changing a little bit of the ending to re-animator (1985) to fit my sick little evil narrative. This was written in an odd dreamy like stream of consciousness thing im not exactly sure what this is or if its even good, but I hope you enjoy it.

Memento Mori. Remember that you will die.

When you feared monsters as a child, ones that hid in the deepest corners of your room, you would close your eyes and count to ten. The fear dissipating as your heart rate returned to normal, there was nothing that could hurt you in the first place.

Applying that same practice now, you squeeze your eyes shut; hoping to re-awake in the comfort and safety of your shared apartment. In bed. Waking up from a horrible, incredibly lifelike dream.

But the monsters were real, now. They walked among the same Earth you did. There was no escaping the re-animated monstrosities of flesh and bone that clawed it's way out of the dark makeshift laboratory deep within the basement. The sound of inhuman claws ripping through your flesh, right through your delicate insides.

It's not a dream.

The white coffee cup in your hand you brought for Herbert loosened from your grip, making a resounding crash on the concrete floor. Shattering into uneven pieces as the brown liquid pooled beneath your feet. You didn’t scream. Simply widened your eyes at the spectacle before you, as the monster’s hand continued to create a penetrating trauma; right through to the other side.

The way you looked up at Herbert will be permanently etched into his mind for the rest of his days; a mix of terror, shock, pain, and something else within your [e/c] orbs.

One that Herbert immediately recognized as betrayal.

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

Herbert and Dan’s worried faces loom over you on the gurney as you are pushed through the Miskatonic University ICU. Your hand desperately clutched to your chest, doing little more than coating them with the blood gushing out of your open wound; painting the digits a bright red.

You didn’t dare to look down at it. If you couldn't see it, it wasn't real.

Metallic iron and antiseptic.

The faces of horrified onlookers parted the aisle like the red sea. Each of them blurred into a mirage of color, unrecognizable as they merged into a single entity. Your colleagues, friends, and professors surely spectating the horror no doubt.

What will they say about you in the morning paper, what photo will they use?

"I'm dying, oh god this is it isn't it? I'm dying, Herbert. I'm sorry I'm so sorry I'm sorry”

You hold your bloodied hand up to the overhead fluorescent lights zooming by above you, marveling at the way the harsh light bounced of the ruby liquid. In other less dire circumstances, one might even find it beautiful. Your fingers grasp and coil in the air towards Herbert's direction, desperate to make skin-to-skin contact with the one you call your partner. Your palm presses flat against his cheek, transferring your sticky blood onto his flushed face.

“Shut up, [____], you’re not dying," he huffs out, the warble of uncertainty in his voice makes you doubt him. "Stop being dramatic." He presses his lips against the middle of your palm, giving the area a chaste kiss.

These usual terms of endearment do little to comfort you; having never seen Herbert look this concerned before. The most unhinged events he's encountered have simply been brushed off with ease; he is the only man to have stared down death in the eye and challenged its finality. Never in those intense moments did his eyebrows even dare raise in shock. You lull your head to the side, attempting to hold back a choked sob stuck within your throat.

"Is it bad?" you ask, your chest rising and falling as you let out a pathetic laugh. He doesn't even bother to respond. You know the answer anyways. You'll be entering oblivion tonight.

Pushing you into the empty examination room, Dan and Herbert already knew it was too late. They weren't quick enough, not fast enough. Your eyes glazed over as blood continues to pour from you -- trailing and spilling its way down the side of the now still gurney. A cascading river of crimson. Your arms were stuck with a crosswire of tubes, gathering your vitals. It seemed more a formality at this point, as your heart rate already starts to fade.

Dan, with all his optimism, understands any attempts to save your life would be futile at this point. Instead, his infinite mercy injects morphine into your iv bag - a type of drugged-out relief washing over you almost instantly. Kneeling next to you, he holds your hand as your labored breathing fades into short breaths as the medicine enters your veins. Still painful, yet not unbearable. Just enough to bring you comfort before your expiration.

"You're gonna be fine," he smiles, squeezing your hand. You don't have the heart to tell him he's lying. Instead, you just give him a closed mouthed smile back.

Euthanasia. What a beautiful word.

You can hear the rummaging of vials in between your haze, your stomach twisting as Herbert pulled out his precious container of re-agent. His facial features become illuminated by the sickly green glow emanating from the bottle, neon reflecting off of his wire rimmed glasses.

Herbert notices you staring at him, as he waves his hand in front of you, seeing your eyes already grow wide in fear. “It's okay, this won't hurt. You'll be okay in no time, back in our apartment, you just have to trust us-"

"Oh, no no no. NO. You've got to be fucking kidding me, Herbert. You're not doing that to [____!]" Dan interjects, jumping up from his kneeling position next to you. Lunging forward, Dan attempts to grab the liquid. Doing what should have always been done.

Where it should have gone the first time Herbert played God.

Smashed onto the floor into a million fucking pieces.

But Herbert's too quick, as he moves backwards away from Dan's rather pathetic attempt. He cradles his potion like a newborn baby, holding it to his chest for dear life. Lips pressed together into a harsh line; his eyes aflame with fury. "It's the only way Dan. This, or we lose them forever."

Dan stares stunned at his partner, his eyes welling. "You want to turn them into one of those monsters, Herbert? Is that what you want? You want [____] to turn into a snarling, disgusting reanimated beast? Because that's what will happen! That's what happened every FUCKING time before, Herbert! I know you want things to be different but you can't save them. I-I'm sorry," his voice waivers as a sob threatens to steal his voice. "It's not working. At least the way you want it to."

"NO. That's not true. It's different! B-Because this time it's a fresh body, Dan! It will work," Herbert explains, hands shaking, barely getting the needle to plunge into the green fluid. "It's different!! It's different this time because...because it's THEM, Dan! Don't you understand? It has to be different!"

Dan shakes his head solemnly. "But it won't be, Herbert. No matter how much you love them."

"Is that truly what you think? What if it was Megan, Dan? Wouldn't you do the same for her? Give a second chance to the person you love the most, breath new life into what was lost?"

Silence.

"Look me in the eyes right now and tell me you wouldn't. This is what we've worked so hard for, Dan. We will eradicate death altogether. There will be no more suffering, no more pain. No more grief."

He wouldn't admit Herbert was right.

"I can't lose anyone else, Dan," he emotionlessly states, turning his gaze towards you.

"Herbert, please," you beg desperately, a gargle from the blood invading your airways makes your speech difficult to understand. There wasn't much time left.

“You're a monster, Herbert."

“And you’re a hypocrite, Dan,” he spits coldly, flicking the tip of the syringe with his middle finger. “I don’t need your moral superiority interfering with this."

With what little strength you have left, you push yourself to the corner of the gurney, cowering with fear as he stalks towards you. You feel like a lab rat, as Herbert stands before you with an emotionless gaze.

This isn't what love was supposed to feel like.

“Don’t. You promised...you wouldn’t." You feel the cold metal of the needlepoint run against the delicate flesh of your inner arm, and you jump. Your sobs of pain slowly materialize into ones of pure terror. "Don't turn me into one of those creatures! Please!"

The pleads fall hopelessly on deaf ears as every ounce left of your body thrashes in protest, fists weakly hitting against his chest. Your voice hitting a shrill octave that was unfathomable and almost out of the human sound waves. Dan turns his head, unable to bear witness.

"PLEASE, PLEASE HERBERT LET ME DIE. PLEASE!!!"

This was for your own good. You couldn't leave him now, not yet. There was so much more to accomplish, so much more that you had to experience together. You are the exception.

Reversed human decay. Memento Vivere. Remember that you must live.

Your clinical death was called at quarter to twelve.

You rose again at midnight.

#herbert west x reader #re animator 1985 #herbert west imagine #re animator imagine #slasher x reader #gn!reader #this sure is something that I wrote #we got a hot priest break

[yaut-jaknowit]

Our Hands Together

Pairings: Male Yautja/reader

Summary: Together, off in the universe, you and your yautja lover stop at a space port. Vic'tao is a massive, towering male but he's not one to hurt you. You make a small notion of that.

Word count: 1755

Note: Here's another random story from a writing prompts. If you guys enjoy these, I'm open to ideas. I like writing for these guys. It's fun!

Ao3

Masterlist

Aliens bustled around the two of you. The market was a bit quieter than usual, when you’re alone. With the burly, bulky, and grumpy alien striding next to you, everything changed. Many know not to mess with him, let alone his kind. Everyone gave a wide berth at his passing figure. They didn’t dare cross his path, or yours. Not unless they wanted a threatening snarl thrown at them. That alone made any sane creature beat it.

Not you. You understood he would never hurt you, unless you called for it; with humans words specifically. There were a few scars that decorated your body because of him. All that were wanted. He also wanted you to show them off, especially around his hunt brothers.

Gout-ti, Xew, Iopu’tor, and Rhi’v have come around and accepted you. The others… let just say, it’ll take a lot longer for them to warm up to you. Nothing was easy now, but a challenge you liked to enjoy. It’s much different compared to earth. The pace and dangers. You liked it better out here then stuck at home or work. This was your life now.

The two of you continued to travel down the crowded pathway. Vic’tao walked with pride in his every step, head held up high and shoulders square. The perfect image of a Yautja in his prime. And that, he ensure you knew at every open opportunity. A smirk graced your lips at the thought. A big upgrade compared to earth, again.

Some alien chittered to you in their own native language. The others around them tried to hush them as quick as possible, but it was too late. Few aliens actually don’t know what or who the Yautja are. “You’re strange looking. What are you?” The translator behind your ear, underneath skin, was quick to do its job.

Their words made you stop. You usually wouldn’t pay them a lick of attention when you’re alone. But in front of your alien hubby, you won’t let it slide. Similar to him, you liked to act strong around him. Showing off the muscles and strength he helped build over time.

Your head turned calculated over to the group. The ones around them had put their heads down or found something more interesting.

Everyone in the vicinity also turned to watch this whole seen unravel before them.

Vic’tao was right behind you, not stepping in just yet. His heat kissed your back softly. He knew you could handle yourself. He, also, knew you hated when he would intervene when help wasn’t needed or called for.

“Human. I’m from the planet called earth, in the milky way system. Or, more well known as 429 system,” you responded with a light tone. At this point, you couldn’t tell if this alien had bad intentions about what you were. This was test.

One grey alien to their right nudged them then spoke softly. The words far too quiet for your translator to pick up. You felt Vic’tao tense up behind you. Your hand touched his rougher side, feeling the cloth that hung from his waist. It took him a moment to settle. Then, he placed one of his own massive hands on your shoulder. Reassurance.

Their buddy must have gotten it through their head who and what Vic was. Someone you don’t mess with. They profusely bowed their head and put their four arms out in front of them. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. I didn’t know. Please accept. Sorry,” they sprouted out nonsense.

That’s one of the things you don’t like when Vic comes with you or you went out with Vic in public. You simply raised a brow. “Everything’s good. Don’t mind him. He has no reason to hurt you.” Suddenly, you spotted a book in German on their table. Reading was one of your most favorable past times.

You rushed over to the table and picked it up. Two years of German and self-learning taught you to understand the language. Not completely fluent, but enough to keep a conversation. “How much for this book?” you questioned excited. Vic has a scheduled mission coming up. The time before would be spent mostly with him in your home back on Yautja Prime. Afterwards, you needed something to keep you busy.

They slowly raised their head, three eyes staring fearfully at you. “Free. You can have it!” the alien stated and carefully put their arms down. You shook your head.

“No, please tell me.” There was no answer from them. “Just tell me how much, please,” you requested again. Your honesty was something Vic loved about you. It was an honorable thing to be honest in life, even in the face of temptation.

Finally, the unknown alien softly stated the price, a little low for your taste. To help with that, you added a hundred more credits to it. That was about twenty in US dollars if your math was correct.

Now, with your book in hand. You turned back around and strolled over to Vic. The hunter tilted his head down to stare at you. It would be difficult to leave you once more after that little show. He knows he picked a mighty fine mate to be with until the end of his days.

The pair began down the pathway once more. Everyone’s eyes that had been on you were quick to turn away when you two started to move.

This time around, you slipped your hand in his and squeezed. Vic returned with a gentleness that’s not usually seen with him. Not out in public. This is as much as you could get out of him when there’s this many people around. This included his own species. He told you why and come to understand and respect that wholeheartedly. He, in return, knows you like a little contact, reassurance. So, he allows hand holding or his hand on your shoulder.

Vic comes to a stop in front of a vendor you two were friendly with. Jekor stood with her usual grumpy face, an arm missing, and nasty scar running over her chest.

At the sight of you two, her hardened façade cracked. “Look, it’s mah favorite two gun-lops!” That last word doesn’t translate doesn’t into English but you take it lighthearted. You knew she meant no true harm to you or Vic.

“Jekor, how have you been?” Vic greeted and slapped a might hand on her shoulder. His other still holding yours. You held onto your book as you stared up at the taller aliens before you. A bright smile on your face.

Mentioned alien rolled her eyes. “Tryin’ and goin’. Na one has an eye for the goodies anymore. Bu’ I know wha’ yer here for Vicy. Don’ worry youngster, I have safe and sound,” she said and turned away from you guys. Underneath Vic’tao’s mask, you knew he rolled orange eyes at her. Jekor was a character and a half to be around. You learned the hard way after a drink with her. Don’t drink hard stuff out here, you’ll end up somewhere thought to be impossible. Don’t ask.

That comment Jekor made you laugh. Vic’tao, in your eyes, was far from a youngster. When it came to the lean alien before you though, she was ancient, older than even the ancients back on Yautja Prime. Yet, she barely looked a day over thirty in human years. You wanted to know her secrets.

“I would hope so, Jek. I paid extra,” Vic fell into a teasing tone with her. Jekor swiped something from underneath the table and handed a box to him. You didn’t know what it was yet. Your partner deflected what is was. In time, you dropped it. You trusted Vic. “And that’s where you did it? You think that’s safe?”

Jekor rolled her eyes and rested a fist on her hip. “It’s in yer hands, ain’t it?” She had a point. Plus, similar to the Yautja, people don’t like to mess the Yarreki. There aren’t many left but they are strong and vicious.

Vic’tao huffed but knew she was right. “Yes, it is. Thank you, Jek. See you around.” With that, your little duo started the journey back to the ship he has. Your hand still encased in his. The sight made you smile.

For such a large and dangerous alien, he was so sweet and gentle with you. Most mornings, he’ll have your favorite coffee already brewing. Sometimes the reason you woke. When the days got rough, he would drop everything for you and help you through the troubles. It was the same with him.

These Yautjas may seem tough and nearly unbreakable on the outside, but they were similar to humans. Mental illnesses do run through their kind, more than you would think on the outside. Vic has his days where he breaks down. He needs someone. That someone is you. You drop everything, even in front of the elders and ancients, and run to your lover. You’re always there for him, off planet or not.

You playfully knock into his side then rested your head against his arm. The warmth easily seemed into your bones. He was truly a powerhouse for warmth. The best for when you’re on planets like this, where a jacket is necessary. Plus, space is cold.

“What is it, my mate?” he questioned and squeezed your hand. That draws your attention down.

A strange thought comes to mind. Before you could truly think, the words are already passing your lips. “I like the way my hand fits in yours.” His engulfed yours. The claws that tipped each end were sharp enough to kill you with one swipe. But he would never do that. The scene was sweet and perfect in your eyes.

Vic clicked his laugh and shook his head, short tresses smacking against one another. “You, my mate, are very strange.”

“But you love me!” you stated and bumped your hip into him. Love shined in your eyes.

“I show you my weakness and lay bare for you.” In short terms, that meant ‘I love you’ in their language. Those simple three words don’t mean much to them. Unless it was coming from you, then Vic knew it meant the same to his.

Unfortunately, with the crowds still around your pair, there was no chance to give him a kiss, quick or not. Making Vic uncomfortable was the last thing you wanted to do. Words were enough in the moment.

They didn’t mean as much as actions though.

#yautja #yautja writings #predator #alien vs predator #yautja x reader #got this from a writing prompt #another writing prompt #male yautja #vic'tao

[imagionationstation]

This box is getting old, guys.

*This is a more aggressive stance on a subject. If it upsets you at any point, I recommend clicking away. Coming at me with a knife will not change my mind. Taking a breather and then offering your thoughts without challenges attached may go over better*

For those debating clicking, it’s regarding Donnie’s crush on April and how the fandom needs to start looking past the “obsessive, stalker tendencies that ruins his whole character”.

“For Donnie’s honor!” (Leon, 2018)

Ya’ll can feel your feels about Donnie, but stop repeating the same ol’ message to others. It’s corruptive and makes it hard for all levels of fans to see him as a person, rather than a misused storyline.

I can’t for the life of me understand the obsession with stamping Donnie with a his character was brutally murder by the writers and he’s a stalker and his only character feature is “I love April” stamp and closing it up.

Because that fits in the same box of Casey is just a rude idiot or April is only there to be a toxic female love interest and Mikey is nothing but the butt of every joke and amounts to nothing else or Leo is just a bossy, arrogant main character who doesn’t have a personality and especially Raphael is an abusive, angry bully and he deserves to be kicked off the show.

Yes. Someone has told me that Raphael deserves no place on the show because he’s physical and loud. What? Raph’s character feature in most iterations involves anger? How dare he be angry in 2012!

Kick him off the show. Bad writers.

But anyway-

These are newbie, close-minded remarks. And they aren’t fair to the characters. There’s so much more to these guys than the fandom pet peeves and the personality that sticks on the surface.

Yes, Donnie has an intense crush, but she’s the first human girl that he’s ever met. The first anyone outside his family that he’s ever seen! The only human girl who might ever accept him as a person or boyfriend. And she’s purrty.

How can everyone in this fandom look me in the eyes and say they’ve never done anything dumb for a person they admire/are crushing on? Or that no one else in their lives have?

Yes, he tries way to hard and it is often cringe, but that doesn’t sum up the entirety of his personality!

This box that the fandom stick characters in is honestly toxic! If the fans would focus less on the crush and more on the desperate boy who just wants to be noticed and appreciated, maybe this box could finally be broken.

Did you guys miss all the moments Casey proved himself to be intelligent and caring? Or April’s entire character growth as she learns to accept that her life is never going to be as normal as she wants it to be so she might as well embrace herself and the crazy?

How did you overlook all of Mikey’s moments of being in the limelight and showing his own brand of IQ and battle skill? How about Leo’s entire character struggle through the series as he grows to understand how to lead, working up from eldest to leader to sensei as he battles the weight of the world on his shoulders?

Why are EARTH are we ignoring every single time Raph risks his life for his brothers, or comforts them in their times of need, or refuses to join his pet and “best friend” because his brothers come first and no turtle left behind and THIS BOY LOVES HIS FAMILY MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF, DANGGIT.

Donnie is more than his crush. They are all more than the labels that we are helping the writers stick on them. Every. Single. Time. We ‘wish their characters had more to them’ because they were ‘misused’. The only reason that I stuck with this show past season 2 is because of Donnie. The only reason that I love this show as much as I do is because I adore this idiot nerd who is loyal to a fault and works so hard in return for so little and just wants to make the world a better place with his family.

I can make plenty of analyses on all the moments from every episode for all the main crew. Every choice that the fandom deems ‘wrong’ can have a purpose or meaning. Donnie’s crush isn’t black-and-white or dumb and I will not hear anything otherwise.

It’s cringe, obviously, and endlessly exasperating- but there’s reason for everything if you look past the box.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. Go change lives.

Or yell at me. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2k12 #See what I see TMNT #teenage mutant ninja turtles #2012 donnie #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 #tmnt fandom #tmnt donnie 2012 #tmnt raph 2012 #tmnt leonardo 2012 #donnie 2012 #donnie tmnt 2012 #tmnt leo 2012 #leo 2012 #raph 2012 #2012 raphael #tmnt 2012 raph #tmnt 2012 raphael #tmnt 2012 mikey #2012 michelangelo #2012 mikey #tmnt mikey 2012 #tmnt 2012 donnie #2012 donatello #tmnt 2012 april #2012 april #2012 casey jones #tmnt casey 2012

[sdyd]

* THE MODERN PROMETHEUS. sentence starters from mary shelley's novel, frankenstein ; or, the modern prometheus. from the original manuscript, the original published edition, & the 1831 revision. feel free to change pronouns / terms / tense / etc.

do you understand this feeling ?

I desire the company of someone who could sympathize with me.

I shall do nothing rashly.

remember me with affection, should you never hear from me again.

I will not rashly encounter danger. I will be cool, persevering, & prudent.

will you have the kindness to inform me whither you are bound ?

I have lost everything, & cannot begin life anew.

you may easily perceive, [name], that I have suffered great & unparalleled misfortunes.

with what interest & sympathy shall I read it in some future day !

the world was to me a secret, which I desired to discover.

it was the secrets of heaven & earth that I desired to learn

no youth could have passed more happily than mine.

do not waste your time upon this ; it is sad trash.

I believed myself totally unfitted for the company of strangers.

have you really spent your time in studying such nonsense ?

I am happy to have gained a disciple.

remember, I am not recording the vision of a madman.

a resistless, & almost frantic impulse, urged me forward.

you must pardon me, if I regard any interruption in your correspondence as a proof that your other duties are equally neglected.

how can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe ?

how glad I am to see you !

it gives me the greatest delight to see you.

you look as if you had been watching for several nights.

how ill you are !

what is the cause of all this ?

oh, save me ! save me !

I dare say you wish to be indulged in a little gossip.

are you always to be unhappy ?

my dear friend, what has happened ?

even cato wept over the dead body of his brother.

I am afraid, tears instead of smiles will be your welcome.

I do not know what you mean.

no one believes it, surely ?

did the murderer place it there ?

I cannot go alone.

I did confess, but I confessed a lie.

I hope you do not believe I am guilty.

I cannot live in this world of misery.

Do you think that I do not suffer also?

men appear to me as monsters thirsting for each other’s blood.

I would sacrifice my life for your peace.

devil ! do you dare approach me?

begone, vile insect!

I expected this reception.

all men hate the wretched.

abhorred monster !

be calm ! I entreat you to hear me.

have I not suffered enough?

I do not wish to hate you.

I was benevolent & good ; misery made me a fiend.

make me happy, & I shall again be virtuous.

you, my creator, abhor me ; what hope can I gather from your fellow-creatures, who owe me nothing ?

cursed be the day, abhorred devil, in which you first saw light !

relieve me from the sight of your detested form !

I ought to be thy adam, but I am rather the fallen angel.

I stared back, unable to believe that it was indeed I who was reflected in the mirror.

was I then a monster, a blot upon the earth, from which all men fled, & whom all men disowned ?

cursed creator ! why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust ?

pardon this intrusion, I am a traveler in want of a little rest.

I thank you, & accept your generous offer

at length the thought of you crossed my mind.

to whom could I apply with more fitness than to him who had given me life ?

I do not intend to hurt you.

I am content to reason with you.

if I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear.

I will work at your destruction, nor finish until I desolate your heart, so that you curse the hour of your birth.

this is what it is to live !

where does he now exist ? is this gentle & lovely being lost forever ?

does it now only exist in my memory ?

I could pass my life here.

I had rather be with you.

hasten then, my dear friend, to return, so that I may again feel myself somewhat at home, which I cannot do in your absence.

had I the right, for my own benefit, to inflict this curse upon everlasting generations ?

what is it that you intend ?

do you dare to break your promise ?

I can make you so wretched that the light of day will be hateful to you.

beware ; for I am fearless, & therefore powerful.

I will be with you on your wedding night.

villain ! before you sign my death-warrant, be sure that you are yourself safe.

why do you answer me so roughly ?

why did I not die ?

are you better now ?

I am sorry that I am still alive to feel this misery & horror.

can I do any thing to make you more comfortable ?

on the whole earth there is no comfort which I am capable of receiving.

persecuted & tortured as I am & have been, can death be any evil to me ?

a fatality seems to pursue you.

do you not love another ?

it is your happiness I desire as well as my own.

if I see but one smile on your lips when we meet, I shall need no other happiness.

you are sorrowful, my love.

this night is dreadful, very dreadful.

why did I not then expire ?

I am satisfied, miserable wretch ! you have determined to live, & I am satisfied.

for many months this has been my task.

my reign is not yet over.

learn from my miseries, & do not seek to increase your own.

do you think that I was then dead to agony & remorse ?

you throw a torch into a pile of buildings, & when they are consumed you sit among the ruins, & lament the fall.

but it is even so ; the fallen angel becomes a malignant devil.

you hate me ; but your abhorrence cannot equal that with which I regard myself.

soon, I shall die, & what I now feel will no longer be felt.

#rp prompts #rp memes #sentence starters #rp meme

[mehiwilldoitlater]

"WHAT...DO YOU...WANT?!"

If it weren't for his friends, who were currently hiding behind him, Chingyun would have fled in the moment that your eyes met his figure. Xingqiu was trying to keep his composure, but it was clear that your terrifying aura was effecting him as well, just like Hu Tao and Xiangling. 

You were fed up with all of that nonsense. First you were sent to Teyvat, just after having found out that you were pregnant, and then everybody started to attack you, accusing you of impersonating their Creator or something. You were scared the first few days, but after the sixth time, you decided that you had enough. So, after having called upon the force of the elements and almost destroying half of the Millelith that the Qixing had sent to kill you, maybe they started to change their mind? 

Oh, but that was the drop that broke the pot. Now you don't want anything to do with those people, the Archons, or whoever tried to get close to you. And that was extended even to a bunch of kids that had enough courage to come to you, even calling upon you from your now so called sacred mountain.

"N-no please, your grace, we just want-"

Hu Tao voice was cut from a strong blast of wind, and her balance was almost lost.

"WHAT?! Do you want to kill me?!"

"NO! No no , we just want to-"

Xiangling had to cover her face again, that wasn't a wind anymore, but a soon upraging storm.

"I don't want ANYTHING from any of you! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?!"

Every step you take, the earth is rumbling. Now the group was shacking up, scared for their lives. You raise your hand, ready to strike until...

"AH! GOOD LUCK CHARM! "

Chongyun shut his eyes, extending his hand. After a few seconds, the storm calmed down and the wind stopped. And you were there, with a look of surprise on your face.

"...Uh?"

When he opened your eyes, you saw that he was trying to call upon his courage, gulping loudly, showing you what he was holding to you. a small sachet with intricate patterns and a circular symbol embroidered in the center. You sensed nothing from it... nothing malevolent, at least. After clarifying that you weren't ready to attack, he finally spoke again.

"It's a good luck charm for the pregnancy... In our family, the elderly usually make them for the future mothers, for protection and for the longevity of the newborn. I figured you'd need one, your Grace..."

He shyly extended his hand again, not daring to take the first step. Surprisily, you didn't flinch.

After a few carefull steps you take from his hand the little offering, letting your finger wonder over the little object. You didn't know what to do or say. He gave you a present! And not a simple one, but something very important for him and his family!

"T-this is... Chongyun, I don't know what to say i..."

Cautiously, Xingqiu takes a step, kneeling solemnly a meter away from you, presenting you with a wooden box, not very big and yet so meticulously decorated with flowery engravings.

"Your Grace...My mother once told me that, while expecting me and my brother, she suffered from various annoying problems. I asked her about it and I was able to find the best infusions that will help you in this matter!"

He opened the box, filled with dried leaves. His chest fueled with pride when you took the wooden box from his hands, analyzing the contents of the box. It smelled like mint and chamomile. Now that he mentioned it, you remember that, back in your world, your aunty did in fact say something about natural remedies against morning sickness with mints and chamomille.

"...It smell...nice?"

"I brought some lavander incense, directly from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor! You said once that you couldn't even sleep because of all the stress that everyone put you through! I'm certain that this will help your slumber! "

Hu Tao cheerily showed you a series of long violet sticks.

"Ehm, thanks! But, don't you use them for funerals? "

"Drastical situations call for drastic measures, Your Grace!"

You almost forgot how much you loved that girl. Hu Tao changed in a moment, from a scaredy cat to the lively girl you knew.

Xiangling was the last one, showing you a paper-wrapped box. It was quite simple, yet you had a little thought of what she wanted to give you.

"Well, they're not good for nothing, just for the heart! I prepared for you some sweet and nice fried milk. After all, you need to eat for two! "

Your hands were full of gifts. You were in shock. They travelled all that way just to give you some presents, and you even treat them like that? You start to feel some remorse after had treat them in that harsh way...

"I...t-thank you, I don't... Oh goodness, you made these things for me and i treat you like that..."

"To be honest, your grace." Xingqiu spoke again. “We're supposed to apologize for what our seniors did to you. Putting the Creator aside, they attacked an innocent! And even in your state! There are no excuses! "

"You had all the right to be angry with everyone." Xiangling was playing with her hands, embarrassed to look at you. "We just wanted to show you that we're not interested in hurting you... If you like, I can bring you some food! Something good for you and the baby this time! "

"Are you going to make it spicy?" Chongyun raised his eyebrows, looking at her friend. " Spicy foods are not good for pregnant women, you know? She needs something that will help her state, like Fish or...or berries or..."

"Oh my! Chongyun, you're quite the expert! Have you taken some lessons? " Hu Tao laughed a little, making the young exorcist blush.

You couldn't help but smile. They were a bunch of kids that wanted to clean up the mistakes of the elders, and their first step was just to show up to you, giving you something that they thought you would like. They were so candid.

"Uhm..."

Your voice stopped the little bickering that was created by Hu Tao and Chongyun.

"Do you... do you like to share some fried milk and mint tea with me? ..I'm afraid I don't have anything else to offer you for your kindness! "

The group freezes, unsure of what to do. At first, you mistake their reaction for fear. After all, you wanted to kill them a few moments ago. Chongyun, again, was the one that decided to take the first step.

"We would be honored, you Grace!"

Little did all of you know, that was the first of many visits.

#genshin impact #genshin sagau #Xingqiu #Chongyun #hu tao #xiangling

[reilliane]

Solidarity ★ Xiao

— ★ Scry: Ecliptic Umbra + Andromeda + Xiao — ★ Genre: Romance + Fluff & Angst + A saving grace appears in the middle of a battle — ★ Concept: You never really saw eye to eye with the Adeptus and vice versa. You're both simply too prideful to bother speaking with the heart. Truth and reassurance comes, however, one adversary later. — ★ Words: 3.5k A/N: Aha, I've always wanted to write two hardheaded people lowkey liking each other but not knowing how to express it so they're just being mad- anyway, do enjoy! Oh- and I changed the prompt a little, the saving grace still appears but it's not exactly in the middle hoho-

Adeptus Xiao, the most (handsome) reticent being to ever exist.

The most loyal to his Archon, the most passionate to his duties, and oh great heavens the most annoying man you’ve come to meet!

“What are you doing here?” as expected, he does not even turn to acknowledge your arrival nor your words, “I thought I made it clear that this territory will be mine to sweep over.”

Amid the battleground, a mitachurl infested with karma disintegrates. Vestiges of its curse are nowhere to be seen—another sign of successful, immaculate exorcism—as the weapon used to slay it is stabbed into the dry earth.

You trace his steps, already feeling under the weather with his response alone.

It’s not even the afternoon!

“You are simply taking too much time for the self-proclaimed swiftest. Can I not answer my concern because I finished before you? I came to investigate.”

Concern is a funny word. Although your words are laced with honest truth, sincerity is a different facet.

If he’s pressed with your insult, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t even turn back, instead, he kicks his polearm back into his hands and makes a beeline towards the next hilichurl camp in view.

“You’re in my way. Perhaps if you leave I can make use of the time instead of squandering by conversing with you. Have you no sense of duty?” his biting retort as always manages to encumber you.

So much for attempting not to be bothered. Never does he fail to get under your skin.

“You… !” he’s already walking away with no intentions to listen to whatever responses you have in store. Isn’t he being the rude one here?

Whatever did you do? His inimical disposition has been going on for centuries. Centuries!

The Conqueror is nowhere to be found by the time—a literal window of a second—your mind kicks in the gear to repine.

Almost as if he’s aware of what’s to come next and fled as soon as possible.

Ugh, how infuriating!

The Adepti knows just how much you two are… explosive in each other’s presence.

Throughout the times everyone has come to reunite—be it for a mere reunion or a summons by Morax—not once have they ever seen any lighthearted conversations be exchanged between you and him.

Ah, but they suppose that one good thing coming out of your partnership is that he’s talked to you more than the rest of the Adepti combined.

Is that really a good thing?

“Uncouth as expected. Perhaps if you refine your attacks a little more you would get less bruises, but I suppose that’s too much, isn’t it?” satirical as ever for his first words in the day.

“Excuse me?”

Did he just say that? To a Yaksha that his dear friend Bosacius mentored? How dare he affront the battle style taught to you—ah this is madness!

“You’re excused.”

“You—!”

Xiao leans off the tree he’s appeared at after ‘checking up’ on your work. What are the odds that he simply did so in retaliation for what you did some time ago?

“There are telltale signs of one of the sealed prisoners resurfacing from the stone forest,” he says, eyeing the nasty bruise on your arm, but does nothing to address it further.

No one can possibly compare to him when it comes to being indifferent—to you—unless necessary.

“Be swift in your work. We’re to patrol Guyun afterward.”

The thought of Guyun Stone Forest does not weigh in your mind for too long—it’s a prison, a regular place to check on—instead, you’re more set on getting the final say on… on anything.

It isn’t a matter of who’s superior, to be honest, it’s just that he always has a bone to pick with you!

How can you not return that twicefold?

“Get back here, Xiao!”

He flickers away into cyan, gone in a fraction of a second, and you’re throwing your arms up in surrender—

“Darn little man!”

—Only to hiss in pain when pain receptors remind you of your recently acquired bruise. Heck, if he hadn’t showed up so suddenly you wouldn’t have gotten hurt!

Surely, if not for the fact that you both have sworn fealty towards the Geo Archon, you would’ve spent the ensuing years seizing each other’s throats.

Not like that doesn’t happen in each and every single sparring session—times where he is just as annoying.

But then again, when is he not?

He doesn’t run out of things to nitpick.

You’d think that since you don’t do it to him then he won’t do it himself, but no. In the end, you jump in on the boat to find minor errors in him, which is rather complicated, but no man is perfect.

Does he view himself as one? Heavens no, that one you can vouch for.

Is he being pedantic?

If he is, he has all the right to be, given his experience goes a hundred year beyond yours, but that does not mean he gets to do it every single damned time—

“I refuse to herald such news in light of you feeling affronted once more, but,” Xiao skids away following an interval between your clashes, “You’ve gotten rather under par. It wasn’t to my notice that you fell out of your prime so gravely.”

What the hell, you stand with a growl. That’s just being mean now! Oh, but I shouldn’t be surprised, really.

His glance towards your weapon—the same as his—isn’t as furtive as he would’ve liked.

“Or perhaps you are not taking this sparring seriously. Where’s your grand lightning?”

The faintest remnant of onyx and cyan flutters about the atmosphere, the revelatory signs of his windy, turbulent power sending a buzz of thrill within you.

Aha? He’s rather pressed today, isn’t he?

You wonder why. Oh, perhaps it’s because I took his serving of almond tofu?

It’s not often that you both decide to fight it out with elements. But if he so wishes… who are you to reject that? It’s been a long time.

Molten gold eyes lock against yours. It is seldom for him to engage in eye contact, but whenever it happens, it’s always acute. Intense.

“Afraid it’ll drown in the winds?” there’s a beat to his voice, challenging—almost domineering.

It makes you grind your teeth.

“Lightning?” the rumble of said element begins with a warmth in your veins before it succeeds with its outward manifestation.

A coat of bright azure, distant from the supposed violet, crackles between your fingers down to the base of your polearm.

Its sound clashes with the squall surrounding the other Yaksha, blanketing the atmosphere until nothing but blue and teal erupts in a skirmish.

You spin your weapon, weaving the harsh, raw element with adept skill. You think you see the corner of his lips tug upward a little, but you’re uncertain.

It can be another show of mockery—and that doesn’t ease you at all.

“I’ll show you lightning.”

If he’s not being annoying, then he’s being adamantly quiet for whatever reason that goes in that head of his. Or he’s thinking of something to throw you off-guard.

Oftentimes he does not talk at all, but there are exceptions when he does and it’s not sarcastic, though it’s as rare as seeing a certain boy be lucky.

Wangshu Inn stands as both of your sanctuaries—or, to be more appropriate, posts. Fronting the faraway shores of the Stone Forest, the main site of interest for centuries ago and centuries to come.

The atmosphere in the said forest nowadays is quite aberrant, hence the austere watch, and consequently, the dull time.

You aren’t used to standing idly but as of now all karma-infested camps in need of exorcising are thoroughly purged.

So what is there to do but stand beside a fellow Yaksha, who has taken it upon himself to be as still and silent as a rock?

“You’re brooding,” quietude answers your observation, “Is this because we couldn’t find out what creature has gotten loose in Guyun and hasn’t made itself known for the past week?”

That sounds about right. It’s shameful to admit but it’s nothing but the truth.

Of course, the rest of the Adepti have been informed of this alarming situation, but dread as you all may, no one is exactly capable of breathing underwater.

Thus, all that can be done is to remain vigilant and end the creature the moment it so breaches past an inch of the water surface.

“Celestias, Xiao, talk to me,” you grumble, stacking the empty plates that once held almond tofu, “Your feathers are ruffled and you’re not even—”

“I don’t think I’ve heard you be sincere in your worries for once.” he bluntly states, eyes flickering to yours.

His voice is oddly loud, not in a noisy fashion. It just seems louder than the usual mutters, and you later realize that it’s because of your closeness.

Perhaps you’ve been too engrossed, too distracted. His shoulder is touching yours, faces turned to look at the other. Despite the only skin contact being that of your shoulders, he emanates a gentle kind of warmth.

A warmth that’s incongruous to his cold hisses and frosty eyes.

A minute passes with him searching your gaze, and in a low voice, he whispers, “It’s…”

Though his voice does not continue, his eyes does, and they trail from yours, to your nose, then to your lips. Immediately, something inside you churns.

There’s an intense need to say something—oh what the hell, your cheeks are warming.

“It’s what. Come on, say it to my face, I’m right here,” he blinks as if coming out of a trance, “It’s off-putting? Exasperating? You—”

“It’s acceptable.” He completes and looks away, discreet with his tiny exhale.

You’re at a loss. Acceptable? What kind of answer is-

“Ugh! You’re so weird!”

“Such disrespect—”

Now, if you’re not at each other’s throats spouting passive aggressive insults—or you’re not sparring with the subtle intent to pummel the other, or you’re not grumbling at his silence and vice versa… then the assumption that you’re both mad is true.

And neither of you are swallowing your pride to even utter a word to cut through the tension and reconcile.

When this happens, usually it’s the elapsing of time that serves as a remedy. You’ve gone far with not speaking to him for half a century. Too much for the humans, but too little for Adepti.

But as a result, this event is also rather complicated.

Despite the urge to grab your hair and pull it out in chagrin whenever you so breathe in his presence, the two of you are surprisingly able to complement and maneuver around each other’s weaknesses on the battlefield.

Which says a lot, for Yakshas are supposed to have no weaknesses.

No matter the blunt dichotomy between, no known Adeptus speaks against your optimum camaraderie.

It is one of a kind. Truly, if one’s only to witness your feats with him in the grounds of war and battle, no one will know of how you both (value) detest one another outside the bartered oaths and promises.

One promise and oath blessed upon you, a comrade, is a call.

The Vigilant Yaksha keeps his word; he will appear to those who says his name.

It’s easy—one syllable; X-i-a-o.

You’ve said it many times, called him countless times.

So why are you not calling him despite being in a situation that can actually take your life?

The crackle of blue lightning befalls like a judgement from Celestia, striking down the abhorrent creature in a single flash upon your command—at the cost of a great repercussion that struck your heart.

It is an expedient you rarely ever use—a double-edged trump card—to impair upon yourself an extensive damage that will be dealt double unto the enemy.

Dangerous as it is, however, it’s a brilliant thing—necessary only now because there will be risks of civilians’ deaths had you not struck the monster down in the small, permitted time frame.

Swift as the beam of lightning and maleficent as the rumble of thunder, your enormous enemy of the waters disperses into nothing—and you drop from the sky.

The wound on your chest, the lethargy in your body, they’re all too immense. Too much, but such are the prices for a marvelous attack, a wonderful save. You’re not the least bit guilty.

Beyond the raging tides, you happen to see an explosion so bright—so golden. Ah- but should you worry about that when you’re splashing against the sea and descending into its blue embrace?

Your comrade in arms… the Vigilant Yaksha, why are you not calling for him?

Is it because of earlier? You wonder as you sink—down, down to the unfathomable deep of the sea, crimson ichor mixing in with the cerulean.

Before Osial revealed himself close to Liyue, before this other creature that has been in hiding for weeks—you think he’s called Shen—emerged from Guyun Stone Forest, there roused an argument like never before.

It had honestly been terrifying, to witness his face contort to show unadulterated anger. You can’t even recall what you fought over. But he’s gone by the wind the second Osial’s appearance is felt.

Plans to follow after have been dropped as soon as another vortex swirled in to reveal your own enemy at the waters of the stone forest.

It’s supposed to be an easy battle—but it had a ship in its clutch, unmoving with the crew trapped in its mirage of false serendipity.

The idea of having casualties isn’t entertained. No room is allowed for it.

The battle ended as quickly as it began, with the crew having washed ashore. Thank heavens they were near shallow water.

But you? Ah, no, you’re far from land.

Xiao—you’ve said his name so many times, far too many to be counted. He might be even sick of it, actually.

Now… now you can’t even whisper it.

Submerged in water isn’t even an excuse, for even if you call for him inside your head, he shall appear.

“Wherever, whenever.”

Those had been his words.

Why again?

Maybe it’s because you don’t wish for him to see you like this; weak, unfitting for a Yaksha that has served Rex Lapis for millenniums.

Maybe it’s because you do not wish to see the disappointment on his face when he berates you for another recklessly acquired wound.

Ah, would he even dare to scold you this time after you singlehandedly defeated one of those shape-shifting water dragons that sunk ships by creating illusions and mirages?

After you saved a crew that’s in its possession whilst the Adepti, Qixing, and the Traveler are fighting Osial?

No, no he won’t... you think.

A fitting demise this is, you mull, losing grip of your consciousness.

Honestly, you’re thankful that you’re slipping this way and not losing air and drowning—or perhaps you already are? You can’t be sure at all… but it’s cold.

So cold… so unlike the warmth you’ve basked in weeks ago.

A throbbing sensation reminiscent of the lightning you conjured lulls you to a state of stasis until the sensation of sinking—of the surrounding water, even, fades into nothingness.

And along with it, your life.

Or maybe not?

Something disrupts the tranquility of the sea that’s hitherto been turbulent. A fissure in the realm of azure, accompanied by a mass of bubbles and—ah, you don’t know anymore.

The darkness—the black—is serene. Feeling such peace almost seems like a crime for a Yaksha who has slain hundreds if not thousands.

It feels odd, verboten for a being of bloodshed, more so because you are aware that you’re leaving someone similar to you behind.

“… up!”

You do wonder how he’ll fare alone.

“[-me]!”

Hasn’t it always been a wish of his to get rid of you?

“Wake up!”

It isn’t long until you are driven back to your senses, awakening to the light as if a forbidden spell of old has succeeded in its incessant endeavors to retrieve your soul before it can pass through the threshold of purgatory.

Temerity is unrestrained, which is valid, given you did just breathe back into life.

Narrowed golden slits are the first things you manage to fixate your eyes on in the blurry haze. That, and the continuous dripping of water upon your cold cheeks that are yet to regain their usual warmth.

Someone is above—who—… !

Saliently moving, you gasp, only to feel something rise from your throat as you push the person away.

Registering the pain in your chest comes with a delay, far too focused on expelling the water that had invaded your lungs and robbed you of air.

Gone with the water, the blur in your eyes follows suit after a couple of blinks. Your head is pounding as well as your heart and boy does it hurt. It hurts.

You can feel it—which means you truly are alive but-

“Why did you not call my name!?”

The cry of pain from being whirled around so abruptly sounds out before you can repress it, eyes pinching shut as dots decorate your vision.

Immediately, you settle for quick, shallow breaths, though it does very little to attenuate the sting.

A flinch is felt, then the heavy grip on your shoulders slackens. Though it’s just for a little bit.

When you reopen your eyes, the Vigilant Yaksha is all that you see.

Xiao has never worn such a face of extreme worry—eyebrows deeply furrowed, lips parted, puffs of breath leaving, and-

“You…” you do not continue the obvious.

His drenched figure, the way his raven hair clings unto his face and how his clothes are a tad shade darker. He had saved you.

“We saw the conclusion of the battle just after Osial was defeated,” he’s breathless, so uncomposed, “It was bright—that raging lightning. You were nowhere to be seen.”

Distraught is not something you expect the man to wear on his face. Ever.

Or mayhap coming from a moment of near death has prompted you to hallucinate; to see him be worried as he appraises your form, to feel his fingers judder upon your skin…

But his voice is a reminder that you are in fact, not hallucinating, and he is here.

“Why would you—such an injudicious attack that would’ve costed you your life had I not-!” he stops, sunken with dread evident in his chunters, “You’re still bleeding.”

I forgot about that, is your honest answer. I can’t seem to point where it hurts, it’s everywhere. You do not sound it though, wary to set the already hysteric Yaksha off more than he already is.

Enfeebled, you are risen from the sandy shores up into a secure hold.

Warm.

You’re in his arms.

It’s nice—that is, if he can just stop holding you so unbearably tight.

“Xiao-“ your voice begins with an embarrassing falter, so unbecoming, so weak.

“Be quiet.”

“Be gentle, then!”

You’re surprised that you have the energy to raise your voice—it’s not that loud, honestly—but he’s much more surprised than you are.

“Hah,” the Yaksha is awfully expressive today, what with his little lopsided smirk, “I’m saving you and all you do is complain? What was I even expecting.”

He sounds relieved.

The blur in your eyes returns, indicative of another possible drift out of consciousness, but you cling onto it harder this time.

You cannot… pass now, certainly not when you’re being carried back to where there is hope that you’ll be saved.

“Thank you.” You say, a little out of it.

Oh no, you’re not a little out of it.

You’re definitely out of it because you can’t help but admire your comrade’s otherworldly beauty as he’s enveloped with tealish winds that aid him in his swift travels.

His eyes meet yours in the briefest of seconds then his lips move to utter something you didn’t catch. Curse admiring him when you’re probably minutes away from fainting.

“What?”

“I said that it’s useless even if you didn’t call me. Though it would’ve been better if you did.”

His hold on you gets tighter again—though he’s much thoughtful this time, and doesn’t grip as hard as he did a while ago.

“What are you getting at?” your world is spinning, “I don’t think I can stay awake for much longer..”

His response comes with a voice that’s uncharacteristically soft.

It lacks jaundice, the sarcasm, the indifference—similar to the time when you were both at the inn, watching over the distant forest of Guyun.

“Even if I harbor ire, I would’ve come to you.”

Adeptus Xiao is a vexing man.

He gets under your nerves and he bites harshly with his critiques. A day doesn’t pass when he does not scowl your way, nor does an hour pass when he does not scoff at your whims.

But outside all of the things that infuriate you—and beyond what makes you maddening to him, there lies a mutual truth neither of you would admit.

“I would’ve saved you, regardless.”

In the end, you will always have his back, and he will have yours.

a/n: sweet, sweet, Xiao. Oh he can be so sweet with his words sometimes he's so pRECIOUS GRRRRRRR-

@cherryflushz @e7t3 @scarlet-halos @lordbugs @nebulaera @annoying-and-upset @hanniejji @applepi1415 @tjjjrsj @azirajane @koi-chairowo @uwu-dreams @yvechu @hey-comrade-hold-stil @limelightsuperhero @chloeloe @loptido @windyventi @nejibot @ganyuqrt @justrinnn @yasunamilk

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬

#m-event #xiao fluff #xiao angst #xiao x reader #genshin impact fluff #reader insert #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin angst #female reader #xiao is a shucking tsundere here #AND SO IS MC LMAO #wait are they- they're just mad and pissing each other off honestly lol

[loverforfanfiction]

[This is my first request]

Imagine the marvel men getting a plus size girlfriend

Tony stark

:he wouldn't have a problem

:but I think it would be his first time

:he would think your pretty and weight wouldn't matter

:he loved every thing about you and your weight just adds to it

:he would praise you for being you

Steve rogers

:as you know from back in the day he had the hots for Peggy so it took a long time to even notice you

:you were a friend of Tony's and he had invited you to a avengers party

:he would always see you around but what caught his eye was what you were wearing

:he thought you were beautiful

:and sooner or later he asked you out and yes he shocked himself

:he didn't think weight matter [ he is a super solider]

: your weight didn't make him love you any less

Bucky barnes

:when he first saw you ohhh he had never seen someone more beautiful but then his insecurities came back

:sooner or later he got the courage to talk to you and the rest is history

:he never really thought about your weight though

:but when he did nothing changed he thought you were like a pillow full of love

Clint Barton

:since he was usually on the job it took long for him to notice

:you were a shield agent and nats best friend

So once he noticed you he thought of you as ever other girl nothing special till he got to know you

:and your weight didn't affect him he thought it was cute and loved to see u in his shirts

Loki

: since he was from asgard he didn't think about it as much

:he saw it as rare beauty because we're he was from he only had

The most finest of fine throwing thereselves at him

:but when he came to earth he saw you the star avenger but also the quietest

:but when he started dating you if anyone dare talk about your weight he turned them into a pig

:again weight didn't matter

Peter parker

:since he was still a teen he didn't really care he still had exploring to do also in dating

:so when he say you he thought "wow she must be new I should help her "

: you know how it goes friends to lovers and that was what you guys were

:your weight didn't matter he thought it helped you out it made you look better than the basic girls at school

Thor

:as also since he was from asgard he had the basic girls throwing them selves around

:but when he got to earth he say you for your true beauty your mind

:again weight didn't matter but his favorite things on you were jeans

Quicksliver

:he would find It very attractive

:he wouldn't care one bit about it

:if it didn't bother you it didn't bother him

:it was like a fluffy beautiful cuddle buddy

:he would fight if anyone said anything about your weight

Bruce banner [ I had the limit of gifs ]

:as you know he was the hulk him self so he felt like he didn't have a say about it

:but it didn't make him less attracted to you

:he would hulk if anyone talked about your weight

Sam wilson

:he really like really didn't care

:but if you cared he would be your talking buddy making sure your ok and knowing your loved

:and he would feed you alot [a bonus to dating the falcon ]

Last but not least ..... ant man

:again since he had problems himself he had no room to talk

:he had met you while you were walking and bumped into making you spill your drink

And offered to pay

:after that he asked for a date

:he loved you for your weight and it made him want you more

[This took me a hour to make so a like or a follow would be nice but you dont have to I write for fun so pls like so I know you want more this is my last writing tonight because i posted about 4 today but I will write tomorrow and I still am taking requests]

#avengers x fem!reader #ant man #steve rogers x reader #hulk x reader #tony stark x reader #loki x reader #bruce x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x reader #bucky x plus size reader #peter parker x plus size reader #avengers x plus size reader #sam wilson #marvel x black!reader #marvel x reader

[greatbritishsimchallenge]

"Beau? What are you -"

"Don't say a word. Just kiss me."

Story continues under the cut (NSFW: Sims Spice)

"What brought you back here?"

"Believe it or not, something my brother said. And it was something else that my brother said that has confirmed for me that this cannot happen again."

"Why do you play with me like this? You make love to me, then you deny me, again and again," asked Nicholas. His voice was not angry, more of a gentle curiosity, as if he didn't believe her words and wanted to understand why she even attempted to create the pretence.

"I know. It is wrong of me. I should never have allowed this to carry on."

"No, my love - I never want this to end. Why can't you stop denying me and just love me?"

Isabeau thought back to her brother's comments about his wife and replied bitterly, "Because I'm already fat and I'm not far off of getting old."

"What?" Said Nicholas, aghast. "What are these awful things you say? How dare you so belittle your magnificence?"

Isabeau couldn't help but smile at his outrage. He could not be more different to her brother.

"I just mean... this is temporary. Affairs of the heart are always temporary. It is better to end things now, before the bitterness and hatred can set in."

Isabeau moved to the edge of the bed to get up, but Nicholas stopped her.

"Isabeau - nothing I feel for you is temporary. If you would just let me, I would love you until the very ends of this earth."

"You don't know that. But I know love does not last - I have seen it with my mothers, with my brother, with countless marriages in court. The heart is too fickle."

"Not mine. I do not believe yours is either," replied Nicholas.

There was such a depth of sincerity to his voice that Isabeau felt herself weakening. She wanted to believe him, to trust him. But she couldn't. Nicholas could sense it too.

"If you truly want this to end, I will respect your wishes," he said. "But should you change your mind, I will be here. I will always be here, waiting for you."

As the morning sunlight began to stream through the curtains, Nicholas and Isabeau kissed once more, Nicholas fighting to hold on, Isabeau fighting to let go.

Start (Iron Age) | Start (Roman Britain) | Start (Anglo Saxon) | Start (Medieval) | Start (Tudor)

Previous | Next

#Isabeau is not as dull as Cassian thinks #sims 4 history challenge

[alix-is-o-a-k]

alix!! fluff fics are always a nice start, and I’ve had painting my room on my mind. you could get the nark boys painting nick’s earth-apartment? lark started painting when mercedes got him into art therapy (henry suggested it to merc, but yk how lark is) and does little flowers on the baseboards, maybe?

anywho, best of luck with posting fics!! I’ll be sure to hype you up :)

ASBSINSOA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! This was soooo fun to write! (Went a little longer than I meant it to lol)

“Lark? What’re you doing here?”

Nick’s standing in the open doorway of his new apartment. He’s wearing black shorts and a loose grey tank, both splattered with dark red paint that could be mistaken for blood from some distance.

“Uh.. sparrow told me you were painting your apartment and I figured- do you want some help?”

“Yes.”

Nick opens the door wider and steps back to let Lark in. Splattered on the walls in uneven brush strokes are streaks of the same red paint on his clothing. The color’s dripping from the walls onto the floor.

“Nicky, what the hell is this?”

Nick’s face goes red and he scratches at the back of his head. “I… can’t paint. You know that.”

“Nick, this is an absolute disaster- were you seriously not planning to get anyone to help you?” Lark looks at him incredulously.

“I thought I could do it! And you’re here anyway!”

“Luckily for you,” Lark grumbles, picking up one of the abandoned paint brushes on the floor “let’s get started.”

Nick picks up the second brush and follows Lark’s lead, bringing the brush down in even strokes along the walls. They’re finished with the first in half the time it would have taken Nick, and Lark puts his brush down with a sigh, running a paint-covered hand through his hair and smearing the color into the brown strands. Nick laughs and Lark looks at him questioningly.

“What?”

“Nothing- just, your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?”

“You’ve got paint in it, see?” The demon brushes his hand through Lark’s hair and purposefully smudges the paint even more. Lark lets out an outraged noise and picks up his brush, flinging the droplets of paint at Nick, who raises his arms in front of his face to protect himself.

“Oh you are so on.”

The two begin to wrestle, the paint staining their skin and clothes until, panting, Lark collapses on the floor. Nick pins him down with one hand, sitting on his legs to keep him from moving.

“So you admit I win?”

“Fine, you little shit,” Lark pushes Nick’s hand off of his chest and leans up to kiss him. Nick happily melts into the kiss and lowers the two of them down until they’re parallel with the floor, Nick’s  arm wrapped around Lark’s waist.

“Got you,” Lark whispers into Nick’s ear and his pulls his hand from the demon’s face. Nick touches his cheek and grins when his hand comes away red.

“How dare you,” he says playfully, and stands up. Lark makes a noise of protest, but Nick just sticks his tongue out and heads towards the bathroom to wash the paint off. When he gets back, Lark’s doodling something in pink on the base of the wall, and Nick crouches next to him to watch. The moment Lark sees him he turns bright red and smudges the paint.

“No I wanna see! What were you drawing?”

“Nothing!” Lark says hurriedly. Nick narrows his eyes but changes the topic.

“Where’d you learn to paint anyway?” Nick asks, sitting against the wall to look at Lark.

“Art therapy. Mercedes signed me up for it a few years ago.”

Nick lets out a noise of contentment and the two sit in silence for a little longer until Lark leans over and presses his lips to Nick’s again, and then Nick’s up against the wall as the paint from Lark’s hand bleeds into his shirt.

Below them, just barely visible is a couple of doodled flowers, with N+L written in pink.

—————————

hope you enjoyed it! I haven’t written in a while, sorry if it’s bad lol

#Alixwrites #dndads #dndads season 2 #dungeons and daddies #dndads s2 #Writing ask #fanafiction #Nark #nark nation

[dracwife]

🎲 for summerisle. in honor of summerisle saturday.

ship: a love immeasurable -> summerisle/heidi word count: 1170 summary: howie takes issue with the nature of heidi and lord summerisle's relationship. i didn't mean for this to become a full fic.

41. a kiss out of spite.

“Surely, a man of your status and self-respect wouldn’t…” Howie lets out a nervous laugh.

“Wouldn’t…?” Summerisle prods him. Though it was little more than a question, between the two they both knew well it was a challenge, a dare even. Go on, he’s saying to Neil Howie, say it.

“Oh, come on now. You are subject to a Christian nation, as you well know. And -- and you may be teaching this heathen religion of yours to these poor, unfulfilled youth and…Well, I can allow that, because they may still see the err of their ways when they mature and get a little common sense, but you cannot run around, no matter private property or not, and spew this absolute perversion! Everywhere I look, it gets worse, but I draw the line here, I do!”

Summerisle tilts his head curiously, an amused grin tugging at his cheeks with rather disinterested eyes. The gathers his thoughts for a moment, exhaling audibly, that forced, friendly smile not for a second faltering as he stands tall, much taller than Sergeant Howie, and looks down at him as he begins.

“I fail to see what you refer to, Sergeant. I believe in the fluidity of life, its many facets altogether, in my opinion, are ever open for change. Do the flowers not bloom in spring, and wither in the autumn? Does the tide not ride high one day, and run low but hours later? The moon, even, runs in cycles, never stagnant, and that’s not even to reference the rest of our earth. The caterpillar metamorphoses into a butterfly, the egg hatches into a chick. The leaves change color through the seasons, and birds will migrate in the winter. Nature adapts to what best suits its needs, and I do believe we humans try to do the same. Who is to say what the ‘correct’ way is for us to find content in our own cycle of life? Perhaps you, Sergeant, find comfort in the routine of your own normalcy. Personally, I would much rather experience as much of what this great earth offers to me as possible. What you may call deviance, I would call the culmination of what has been offered to me. You are engaged, are you not? From what you’ve said, you worship regularly, too? As do I, dear Howie, though under different conditions I can only presume. The desire for companionship is felt all the same in either case, yours or mine, I’d imagine.”

“An outstanding misinterpretation of devotion!”

"I suspect we differ in definition, then," Summerisle rounds the den to seat himself comfortably in one of the many chairs.

Howie follows as obedient as any dog, "It is completely unnatural." 

"But it is so very human to fall in love, isn't it?"

"Not in this way. Were the investigation of Rowan Morrison not taking precedence in my visit, I would have half a mind to arrest you both now -- I will certainly be reporting this to the proper department once I reach the mainland I assure you."

"Kindly, Sergeant, I believe you might have quite the case to make -- In almost all respects besides social representation, Heidi is female, and comfortable in admitting so."

This only flabbergasted Howie further, a sputtering mess of fury and disgust, "Sexual deviance at its finest! And with all the other indecent practices I have witnessed on the island!"

"There is nothing sexual about it, quite the opposite in fact," Summerisle tuts, which pauses Howie's rant for but a moment.

"And maybe, if you kept it in the privacy of your own home, I could look past it, but --"

"Need I remind you, Sergeant, that you are in my house. And I would expect that a man of your manner would, if nothing else, respect the dignity of his hosts. I understand that perhaps you are not so accustomed to the things that you may see here, but," Summerisle, standing now, and voice raised just ever so slightly, causing an already very small-feeling Howie to shrink even more; He realized then the impossibly imposing nature of Lord Summerisle, "You would have the decency to not speak ill of my family, lest not in my own home."

Though his inflection tipped upwards, phrasing it as though it were some sort of question, it was indubitably a command, one that Howie simply conceded to as he smoothed his lapel. A terrible blow to his ego aside, he sheepishly meets the eyes of His Lordship again, whose undoubtedly alarming anger had already melted away, back into that friendly, approachable smile Howie had been invited into his manor in the first place with, "But of course, I would never think it to come to that brutish sort of insult. Heathens as you may think of us, we are still civil."

It almost frightened Howie -- seeing Summerisle swap between the two temperaments so quickly, his brows furrowed more the longer he stood thinking, if he had so easily hidden his anger, what ever else could the island be concealing?

In that moment, a third joins them in the den, carrying a small platter. They offer it first to Howie, who simply shakes his head, turns and gazes out of the window again. He feels too ill even to meet their eyes. 

Heidi, however, shrugs it off and simply wanders coolly over to Summerisle, who with a small thanks takes one of the mugs of tea.

Heidi mumbles something about being nearly out of milk, and as Howie steals a glance towards the couple he looks over just in time to see him, half bent over, Summerisle's hand resting gently against the other's cheek as he presses their lips together in a relaxed, but delicate kiss. He watches as they part slowly, in both their eyes that same look, a word he could only -- and it pained him so to even admit such a thing -- describe as reverence, with the kind of sincerity and passion that he could only otherwise ascribe to the way a servant may worship it's master. He dare not call it love, not after he argued so violently against it, but the thought prodded at him still that it may well have been the same way he looked at his own Mary, and for a second he considered that he had been too harsh. 

Heidi clears his throat though, and pulls Howie from his reflection, and murmurs about needing to visit the market -- Howie thinks he even hears an affectionate name alongside the "Murdoch" he refers to the man as, Howie makes a note of his lordship's first name finally, befitting to the rest of him -- surely referencing the mainland. He bids a quick, soft goodbye through a warm smile, bowing his head again to Howie as he exits the room, tea tray still in hand, leaving Summerisle and the policeman alone once more. The pagan watches Howie carefully, eyes sparkling with the sweet sense of spiteful victory alongside taunting curiosity, at what Howie's next move may be. 

He merely sighs, "I hope you will forgive me of my rash transgressions. It was rude of me."

"I never held it against you for a moment, my devout friend. I simply hope you may learn a thing or two during your stay."

#ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴍᴍᴇᴀsᴜʀᴀʙʟᴇ | r. － l.s. #hashtag love wins. or whatever #howie voice 'you cant have GAYS. DEVIANTS!!' #summerisle voice 'begone. to the wicker man with you' #dex.writes

[my-soupy-brain]

Hey lovely! I was wondering what you'd think of the first dance at Ted's (and readers) wedding would look like? Work song by Hozier is stuck in my mind, but really I'd love to see any song you'd like!

Hello, lovely! I love this idea. Ted and reader would have a perfect wedding with friends. Nothing too big and too flashy, but full of love and laughter. I'm picturing Jason's 2022 Emmy tux for this story. This song is gorgeous - I had to listen and it's spot on.

---

Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader (f)

Warnings: None, just fluff

---

The room seemed to fade away in your periphery when Ted took your hand and led you to the dance floor for your first dance as husband and wife.

You've danced to many songs in your time with Ted. But when he played this song for you one night, saying, "It reminds me of my feelin's for ya darlin'..." you knew it was something special.

Boys workin' on empty Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? I just think about my baby I'm so full of love I could barely eat There's nothing sweeter than my baby

Ted's big hands went around your waist, then he took one of your hands in his.

You couldn't see all the guests milling about at the tables around you. Some were watching, some taking photos, some chatting with each other.

You didn't hear the chatter. You didn't see the flashes of cameras.

You only saw Ted's deep hazel eyes looking at you.

I'd never want once from the cherry tree 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be She give me toothaches just from kissin' me

You smile at each other, kissing gently. Your hand coast up and down the silky lapels of his tuxedo. He smells so good. His hair has flopped over his head a little now, and you don't dare change it.

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

His hand roams up and down your waist. The two of you talk quietly, only you can hear.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Ted murmurs, smiling. "You always are, but my goodness, sugar..."

He makes a small whistle with his lips and you giggle, biting your bottom lip.

Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin I woke with her walls around me Nothin' in her room but an empty crib And I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived But I swear I thought I dreamed her She never asked me once about the wrong I did

He kept holding onto you, his hand pulling your body a little closer, your chests pressed together.

The room may as well be empty other than the two of you. You didn't care a lick about the rest of the reception.

Just this moment with him.

When Ted leans closer to you, your cheeks nearly touching, his deep, Kansas voice sings the words softly to only you.

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

As the song winds down to the last remaining chords, Ted holds your face in his hands and kisses you sweetly. The crowd around you cheers, but you're still in your world with just Ted.

Your Ted. Always forever your Ted.

---

Yep, this song had me in tears. Stupid emotional hormones. But oh goodness, was it ever beautiful. I may need to do more wedding stories for reader x Ted. I think it would just be...exquisite. Thank you for this lovely prompt, friend!

#ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso x you #ted lasso in a tux would be ultimate

[i-have-insane-that-i-am-paper]

The life - Brienne x Faerys

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Visual of Faerys

Master list

Prompts: 40. “I have never hurt anyone. Yes, I’ve killed and I’ve damaged but those are things that you can overcome. Mentally, however, I’ve harmed no one but myself.”

Warnings: Angst, description of violence.

Words: 2.596

"You know I would move heavens and earth for you my little flame. Tell me what troubles you so."

"It's Viserys." She spoke quietly. Eldest sibling got confused. "What about him little one?" There was no mistaking bite in her voice, Faerys knew her brother has changed since their exile. But for Daenerys to look so scared of him. He messed up. Big time. "He wants me to marry one of Dothraki Khals." That was it, eldest one saw red at those words. "He. What." Anger, blinding, boiling, unmistakable in her voice. But at the sight of her little sister flinching Faerys forced herself to calm down. "I'm sorry my little flame. I didn't mean to frighten you. But I need to know. Did you accept?" Voice much gentler than before. She nodded. "I didn't have any other choice. He is to be king, and for that he needs army. The one I can provide by marrying a powerful man." She spoke. If Faerys was angry before she is absolutely livid now. But forcing herself to a calm state of mind yet again for the sake of not scaring her little sister. "You are already promised to him? How come I knew nothing of it?" Daenerys shook in her place, thinking she was about to be struck. "He told me not to mention it to you."

That was it. Red line has been crossed.

Gritting her teeth Faerys just nodded. "I see. I'm going to rest now my little flame, have nice day, and please do take some rest yourself." Faerys spoke as she hugged and kissed crown of her sisters head.

Daenerys appreciated softness her sister gave, always being gentler one of the siblings. Faerys was always the one to care and comfort Daenerys, no matter what, no matter how late in the night she came her arms were always widely spread and ready to engulf her in her comfort.

As soon as she was out of eyesight Faerys bolted for her brother's chambers. Bursting in without knocking se spoke. "You were going to give our sister away to some brute?!" Faerys was livid. "She told you? That little..." He spoke as he went for the door but was stopped with hand around his neck that pushed him back. "Yes. She told me, and you will not do anything. Unless you wish for broken bone that is." "How dare you speak to me in such manner. I am the King."

"Any man who must say, I am the king, is no true king. Do I need to remind you insolent child who is the elder one here. Just because I don't want the throne does not mean I won't take it from you if you continue being oppressor." He went deep red. "You dare-" "Yes. I fucking dare, because I am the one who wiped your ass, and took care of you. So you will shut your trap before I shut it, and speak when spoken to. Meaning I ask questions you answer. Understood." He knew better than to challenge his sister. She had quite a temper, so he nodded. "Now. You promised our sister. The light of my eyes and happiness of my heart to a dothraki savage. Do you care to explain why."

"He will give us his army. We can take our throne back with it."

"Oh. So it's our throne now, as far as I remember it was your throne until few moments ago. But my question still stands. Why. The. FUCK. Didn't. I. Know?" Faerys seemed more threatening than ever, her eyes nearly in slits, voice taking growling quality. Resembling a dragon more than a human in that moment. "Because you wouldn't allow it and we would loose perfectly good bargain." As soon as those words came out of his mouth Viserys hunched over, swift punch to the gut delivered by his sister sent him in to coughing fit grabbing his neck and pinning him to the wall. "OUR sister is not a bargaining chip you little shit, and what happened to others being inferior to OUR blood? Did you traumatize my sister with the thought of marrying you just to sell her like common WHORE?!" Faerys physical state is a mirror of her emotional one, veins on her forehead and neck protruding and pulsating, her jaw clenching and unclenching. Breathing erratic as she growled at her brother.

"You will call it off." She finished letting him drop onto his knees. "I can't." He wheezed. "What." Tone eerily calm. "I can't. She's promised to him, if we don't give her to him. He will find us and take her by force treating her worse than if she just accepted it." Seeing sense in his words and indeed it being hard situation. She nodded. "BUT. If she is hurt in anyway by him. You better find good spot to hide." With that Faerys went to her room.

Soon the day of ceremony came. The man that Faerys came to know as Drogo didn't seem to heavy on the eyes, but still...

"You seem concerned, my lady." Ser Jorah spoke, and she smiled. She found comfort in mans kind face and gentle voice. "How can I not be? My sister is off to marry complete stranger, and I can't do anything about it. I am the eldest of my family I was supposed to protect her." Faerys spoke but Jorah shook his head. "This is no fault of yours. From what I heard you didn't even know about it until few days ago. Stopping it then would cause great consequences for everyone included." Girl smiled and nodded.

The time of gifting the bride came, so Faerys stepped out. Her head held high as she presented her gift. A necklace, a dragon with greenish brown eyes. Pulling on her neckline Faerys showed off her own dragon with sky blue eyes. Daenerys knew meaning of her gift and nodded in gratitude. When she stepped back and stood beside Jorah he spoke. "That is a fine gift my lady, I hope you don't mind my asking but where did you acquire it?" She smiled and spoke "I made it. Took a long time about two weeks. But it payed off, I thought what better occasion that this to give it to her." The astounded look on knight's face was priceless and something she would remember for a long time.

Months passed, Daenerys fell more and more in love with her husband and soon...

"I'm gonna be an aunt? I'M GONNA BE AN AUNT?!" Tears of happiness prickled her eyes as younger girl smiled giddily and nodded. In matter of seconds she was lifted off the ground and twirled in the air. "Yes. You are gonna be an aunt." She knew how much Faerys loved children but this child was her own flesh and blood so it's even more special to her. From that day on eldest Targaryen would spend hours beside her sister. Hugging her, comforting her, petting her stomach and kissing it. Whispering to the baby and talking to it, promising the world and more to it. Truly and well in love with it even before it was born. Relationship between her and her brother in law improved significantly. They were friends, often joking with one another and teaming up against Daenerys in their teasing. Viserys was growing distant, insulting Danny much more and earning himself sharp glares sometimes even smacks from Faerys. But nothing could prepare the girl on the sight of her brother writhing in pain as molten gold burned his face and entered his inside. She was in shock but also pain. No matter what, how he acted and spoke, how he was towards her or anyone else. That was her baby brother, the very one she gently rocked in her arms and sang songs to. The one whom she played with and whose smile brightened her day before this world corrupted him. So she turned and left her soul burning with pain and anguish. Old memories rushing back, old wounds springing open. After she calmed she came back and spoke to her sister. Neither of them even thinking what future might bring.

Days turned into nights, and soon... It was day like any other that is until one of the Dothraki challenged Drogo wounding him, one of the witches offered her help but it was a trap. The man's wound got infected and as a result of blood magic preformed by the witch he got in to a state that was worse than death.

As Faerys walked in to the tent she saw Daenerys closing in on Drogo with a pillow in her hands understanding her sisters wish, she gently caught her wrists and took the pillow. "Why don't you take a walk my little flame." She spoke in gentlest of voices. As she walked out Faerys walked to the man. "Hello Drogo." He just stared at her but his eyes filled with sadness. "I will take care of her. I promise." As she finished that sentence she hit his throat as hard as she could, giving him swift and painless death.

The flames were wilding and burning everything, without a thought in her head Faerys rushed to protect her sister running into the flames. But they didn't burn her as she expected, no. They felt comforting as they licked her skin. Soon finding her sister also unharmed she rushed to her and enveloped her in a hug. Soon small cries were heard and two girls felt something brushing their skin as they looked down they saw four little dragons. Babies. Soon fire died down and people cheered when they saw that we were unharmed.

Three dragons were constantly following Danny but one of them... One of them was practically bound to Faerys with maternal cord. Never straying too far from her. It was night black she dragon with starlike spots on her and blood red eyes. Truly a beauty in her own right. So she deserved name worthy of her, she was named Layan.

Time passed, dragons grew exponentially so. All of them developing certain characters. While Drogon is less reliant on the other three and more headstrong and independent. He’s not aggressive, but he definitely goes his own way. Rhaegal is the most outwardly aggressive and ill-tempered. He fights with the others over food, Viserion is generally the mellowest of the three. Faerys and Danny would often call him lazy as a joke. Then there was Layan gentle and kind, always on Faerys shoulder when she was small, and when she grew she allowed Faerys to tuck herself in to dragons soft, warm belly as gentle giant wrapped her tail around her like protective blanket.

Many slaves were freed during years that have passed, Faerys even though older than her sister, surrendered throne willingly and instead was at her sister's side as her advisor. So when Jon Snow came speaking of walkers coming for the wall she was first to encourage Danny to hear him out, when conclusion came and they agreed on Daenerys coming to Winterfell, she marched along her sister.

Winterfell gates opened and soldiers walked in, Faerys saw unwelcoming faces of Northerners, but didn't take it to heart. Jon did warn them of the wairiness his people possessed towards outsiders. So she didn't give it much thought, when he said his hello to his family, he introduced us. His sister was a little bit cold towards Danny as she spoke. But again elder Targaryen understood what these people went trough and couldn't really blame them for their wariness. "It is honour to meet flesh and blood of the honorable." Faerys spoke as she bowed her head, at this Sansa smiled slightly and other lords seemed to lower their guard.

A man told them of the faith that befell Viserion, while both sisters felt their hearts shake and freeze in pain, Faerys decided to have some alone time as soon as her greetings were over. While Daenerys decided to keep those emotions for later in confines of her own chambers.

Soon the meeting of the lords started and all pledged their allegiance. The shock of Jamie Lannister coming to honour his promise of helping was surprise to everyone. He was accepted in to ranks and given instructions on what to do.

Brienne was taking a walk when she heard loud growl. It came from clearing nearby.

"We can't Layan, you know that. People might get scared and we don't need that girl." Faerys was trying to argue with dragon that obviously wanted to take off to the sky. But instead of hearing another complain from she dragon, Faerys was circled by her tail and loud growl emitted from deep within dragons chest as she glared into the forest in front of her.

A woman walked out with her hands in the air, she was exceptionally tall, with sandy yellow hair and./. Eyes bluer than the sea that surrounds Tarth. Soon it was like kick in to the face. Woman standing in front of Faerys was the very one who occupied her mind since she left Tarth.

"Faerys?" Came soft voice, barely loud enough to be heard. But no verbal answer came from silver haired woman, no. Only reply Brienne got was hard pull in to another's arms, and arms circling her but that was enough. Soon lady of Tarth returned the hug just as hard. Not believing that her friend was indeed alive and well.

Minutes turned in to hours as Faerys and Brienne spoke of their life up until that point. Layan became considerably calmer with Brienne when she saw that the woman posed no threat, even asking for pets. Which Faerys found very adorable, the fact that Brienne of Tarth petting a dragon like she would common hound and even more so when said dragon was constantly leaning in to her hand and slightly kicking his left leg. "She likes you. Very much so." Faerys spoke with slight smile and Brienne nodded smiling back giddily. Targaryen was glad that former somber mood that was brought by past and her words was extinguished.

“I have never hurt anyone. Yes, I’ve killed and I’ve damaged but those are things that you can overcome. Mentally, however, I’ve harmed no one but myself.” Those were words that Faerys spoke and that brought onslaught of unpleasant memories of her family dying and what was left of it being nearly killed multiple times. That was the moment when Layan decided to come in and ask for pets from Faerys and Brienne which brought them into their current situation. After seeing wide smile on the face of Brienne she decided to make it even wider. Bowing she then spoke "Would you care for a flight my lady." Face that Brienne made was priceless her mouth hung open as her eyes winded. She nodded nonetheless and soon they found themselves, high in the sky, Brienne's arms around Faerys waist holding on to her so she doesn't fall off. Laugh that emitted from blondes lips made Faerys wish it never stops.

"This is beautiful." Brienne spoke. "It indeed is my friend. Indeed is."

They landed after some time and when Faerys helped Brienne down from the dragon the latter spoke. "You just completely demolished horse riding for me." Laughing Faerys shook her head.

"You are welcome to come and ride with me any day."

"You do realize I am going to take you up on that offer as often as I can right?" Eldest Targaryen nodded with a smile.

#brienne x reader #brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth x reader #brienne the beauty #game of thrones #got #angst #oc #original female character #platonic love #romantic love #daenerys targeryan

[lake-archive]

Track 1

Fandom: Hypnosis Mic

Series: The Past Is The Past... Right?

Characters: Eli (by @watersofcamelot), Ichiro Yamada

AO3 Link

Track List - Track 2

Going out shopping for the day, the weekly big haul Ichiro would do while both of his brothers were busy attending school. He always did when managing to find some time in between. And besides, he couldn’t let his little bros starve. Someone had to prepare dinner and Jiro as well as Saburo would be too tired for it at the end of the day, given all the school work they have to worry about. Sure, they might also have the rap battles to worry about but at the same time they could not neglect that part either. Or rather, Ichiro was not going to let them do that. So he gladly took on some of the chores by himself, he had done so for years now. He was used to it. And thus, the day went on as usual… Or rather, it was supposed to go on as usual. If it had not been the encounter with a familiar face… 

Honestly, he had not expected to see him around Ikebukuro ever again. The last time was two years ago, shortly before The Dirty Dawg had been formed. He had been not just a well respected rapper in the industry but also during the battles, when it mattered more than ever to actively fight for your territory. The battles had been brutal and only a few prevailed, managing to stand out. The Knight had been one of them alongside his crew, performing outstanding results. More than anyone could have imagined. He was probably their strongest member and the other four were basically the equivalent of backup. But he probably could have not made it without the help of his team members. It had even proved to be difficult for Ichiro, him having managed to pull out a draw at the very last second. It was a close one, that was for sure. 

And yet, The Knight didn’t seem like a bad guy all around. He just wanted to have fun and even appreciated the challenge. “Your lot ain’t as boring as those other ones, congrats.” He had said with a laugh. And thus, whenever Ichiro would encounter the guy the two would duke it out, sometimes just for fun. And none of them minded… Well, that was until said Knight had disappeared from the face of the earth. Only few knew of his face apparently and Ichiro had been lucky to have seen it before as well as his name. And even after the years had passed, he didn’t look much different from before. Though… There was something different about him compared to before. Though he could only wonder what. But that had also not stopped Ichiro in the end to greet his old buddy!

“Yo Eli! Didn’t expect to meet ya here!” He would say, making the other male turn into the direction of Ichiro’s own voice. He seemed to wonder who it was, but only half–heartedly, In fact he shrugged pretty quickly, then saying: “Yo Ichi.” Though his own tone was as half–heartedly as his shrug earlier. 

Now, he was not someone who seemed to care about much but like this? Something seemed different. Eli lacked his… Usual energy. The energy Ichiro had gotten used to. That was already odd on its own and probably the first sign, yet he had decided to ignore the fact and shrug it off for now. 

“What’cha doing here?” He asked with a grin. And yet, Eli’s expression had not changed, at all. It was the exact same and would stay mostly the same.

“Nothing special. Just getting something for the Boss.” He responded, his gaze soon turning away to browse the wares inside the shop the two were both in at the moment, eyeing all the vegetables carefully, even mumbling something about them, commenting on them and debating which ones to get it seemed. Then, after grabbing some, he spoke up again. “She asked me to get something oddly specific. Any store nearby had to be of course sold out so I decided to pay some shops here a visit.”

“Your Boss?” Ichiro asked, yet dared not to say his guess out loud. Eli wasn’t exactly that type of person, was he? Well… 

“Oh, from the Soup Kitchen.” He responded quickly and bluntly, not hesitating with his words. “I’m working at one right now.”

“A soup kitchen?” That was the last thing Ichiro had expected in all honesty. A soup kitchen… Eli working in a soup kitchen… Well, he wasn’t exactly a bad guy. Far from it actually, yet that a guy like him would be fine with something like that. A passionate rapper who could defeat anyone at sight? It didn’t add up for him in all honesty… Actually, Eli’s entire attitude had not added up. He was different from before, very different from the Eli Ichiro had known. He almost seemed… Lifeless. Not caring about anything, or wanting to come off as such. And it was off putting, to say the least. “Anything else?”

For a moment he saw Eli’s body stiffen, for a split second. He bit his lip, as if having to think of a response. In fact, he was ready to squish the vegetable in his hand right then and there yet held himself back enough not to do that. Instead he just turned away, quickly. 

“No, nothing else.” He responded finally, his voice uncomfortably cold. All while refusing to face Ichiro. And before he could have even responded to a thing the other male quickly added: “I’ll pay up and then go. Boss doesn’t like it if I make her wait for too long.”

The conversation had been cut awfully short, so much so that one could not even catch up with Eli. He left, just as quickly as he had been spotted, clearly not wanting to continue this conversation. Did he have a clue where it may have gone? Or was he afraid to find out?

Questions Ichiro could not answer. All he knew was that Eli has changed, very much so… And yet, for such a passionate rapper, this change had been all too sudden… Hadn’t it?

Track List - Track 2

#Nimue's Lake #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #hypnosis mic #hypnosis microphone #hypmic #hypnosis mic oc #hypmic oc #ichiro yamada #yamada ichiro #hypmic ichiro

[pb-dot]

WIP Wednesday: Meet my new protagonist

So, in these days leading up to November I've spent some time trying to capture my vague and ephemeral plans for the unnamed horror project I really should settle on a title for one of these days. I still have a ways to go, but I figured it was time to talk a little bit about the poor sap who's going to go through my made-to-order horrors. Well, I say poor sap, but the fact of the matter is that our hero is a bit of a bastard in some respects.

Oscar H. Skerry would never dare to call himself an expert on art, but he will also be dead in the ground before he concedes that anyone on god's green earth knows more about art he likes than he does. From his home in San Franscisco, he has made a modest but sustained success as an art critic, paying the bills by a series of freelance consultant gigs, mostly for "particularly daft multi-millionaires looking to get some art into their portfolios," to quote the man himself.

While he may make a living advising people he has nothing but contempt for make what could be argued to be wise investment decisions, it is far from Oscar's passion. You're unlikely to hear him talk about his true passion unless he deems you to be of considerable intellect or in a position to further his goals, though. It's not a secret, exactly, but Oscar considers it "need-to-know information."

In short, Oscar is captivated by the work of one Tomasz Gildebrant, a reclusive artist who made his name with his unique visual style, other art critics than Oscar has called it "pleasantly unpleasant" or "containing angles and strokes evocative of the nightmare," and an unflinching dedication to his reclusivity that has him placed in the category of "outsider art" because nobody can figure out enough about him to put him anywhere else. Oscar believes himself to be the one to write the definitive, defining work on Gildebrant and form a thesis that'll open the art world's eyes fully to his beloved artist. So far it's not going very well, and Oscar is struggling to even explain why he likes the paintings.

Leaving the topic of Oscar's fascination for more biographical details. Oscar Henry Skerry was born to Linda and Harold Skerry in Rochester, MN on September 12th 1989. Oscar, named after his great-grandfather, had a childhood that was considered normal at the time, but that in retrospect probably contained more bullying than what's healthy. This bullying came to a peak in Oscar's early teens, around the time Oscar realized he was queer. Unfortunately for Oscar's tormentors, he also realized he wasn't going to take it on the chin anymore. Oscar grew into somewhat of a problem child as his many fights and waning interest in academia saw his grades decline.

Art became somewhat of a salvation for young mr. Skerry, as his sympathetic if not somewhat willfully ignorant parents, encouraged him to explore his artistic side as a possible outlet for what they percieved to be baseless aggression. Although Oscar did take to the creation of art, he seemed to rapidly change his mind through high school and towards college. Oscar is tight-lipped on this part of his life, but may be plied to confess that this was the time he saw his first Gildebrant painting, and have since been striving to understand the experience and the feelings this awoke in him.

So that's Oscar in a nutshell. He's not as fleshed out as I want him to be when all of this is done, but then again I'm planning to pants a lot of the finer detail since that worked pretty well with Clockwork Boy. Expect many ask prompts and tag your OC posts about this boy, the target of his obsession, and Mara, his bitchy-but-wise frenemy with benefits.

#writing #hitherto untitled horror project #Oscar H Skerry #my god I need a title for this goddamn WIP