#I figured out how to use the new generator now it’s a bit confusing but works!
Text
Original below cut:
#WE ARE SO BACK BABY#incorrct quotes#everhood#green mage#pink#I figured out how to use the new generator now it’s a bit confusing but works!
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Reader receives Nats nudes accidentally
Authors note: Just in case you didn't see, you can now buy me a coffee/commission something. See this post for more info 🥰
Authors note 2.0: trying out a new thing with a drabble series
Word count: 803
Marvel Masterlist Natasha Masterlist How They React To Masterlist
A while ago, Tony had been feeling generous and had offered to update everyone's personal computers. And Nat was definitely in need of an upgrade, she was still using the old laptop she was first given when she joined SHIELD years ago. It still ran, which she was grateful for, but it did lack speed and some other niceties. So she took him up on said offer.
Which is why she now finds herself sitting at her desk with two laptops in front of her while she transfers over her multitude of files and data. It's a bit of a tedious task to go back through everything and find out what is actually worth keeping, what's important and what can be trashed before she hands it back over to Hill, but in the end it’ll be worth it.
She's just finishing up now, sending over the last few miscellaneous things. But what she hadn’t realized was that she had not selected her new computer as a transfer location this time, but had selected your computer. Likely unnoticed because she had forgotten about even connecting her laptop to yours during your last mission, and because her eyesight was beginning to get strained after so many hours of sitting here. Regardless, off they went, and she was none the wiser
Meanwhile you're just returning to your desk from a much needed break when you see the file transfer notification light up. This confuses you, as you hadn’t asked anyone to send anything over, nor had anyone told you to expect anything. But since you apparently have some more things to attend to, you sit back down and open the file. This proves to be of little help however, because nothing is labeled. All you know is that it contains several documents and one picture.
You decide to open the picture first, as it would hopefully not require reading. It's clearly been taken in a dimly lit room so it takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the darkened screen to discern anything, but soon enough you're greeted with the side profile of a naked woman. This confuses you even more, but you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away. And that's how you spot it, a small scar to the left of the belly button
“Oh my god!” you exclaim as you register who you're seeing, and you quickly close the tab
Your hands start sweating as you wrack your brain for a rational explanation. You knew Nat was a playful flirt, the two of you did so all the time. But to send an explicit picture, unprompted, and by file transfer at that, just didn’t make sense. That's when you remembered the other contents of the file, and you quickly skim through them to see if they would be of any help piecing things together. When you discover that they are just after mission reports and weapons specs your hunch of it being unintentional is confirmed. Now, you just had to figure out what to do about it
A few minutes later, you're standing outside the redhead's door as anxiety bubbles inside you. But you fight through it and knock.
“Come in!”
She's turned enough in her desk chair to see who's entering and a wide smile spreads across her face as she registers that it's you. You feel guilty now, because you have a feeling your demeanor and what you have to say will cause that smile to falter, but you need to do this. Afterall, you’d want someone to be forthcoming if they received something like this of you.
“Uh, hi Nat”
She notices your nervousness, but sets aside the observation for now “Hey Y/n, what's up?”
“I think you accidentally sent me a few of your things during that last file transfer”
“Oh, shit. Sorry about that, I’ve been at this for a few hours now and I guess I hit yours by mistake” she explains, “I didn’t even realize we were still connected”
“Neither had I. But Nat, there was a picture of you among the documents”
“Yeah? I hope it was a good one at least” she jokes, not realizing what you were trying to say. You're silent for a moment too long however, because she fully turns her chair to look at you, with her brows furrowed with worry, “Y/n, what's wrong with the picture?”
“Nothings wrong with it!” you reply, a little too enthusiastically when you think about what's yet to come, “It's just that, well…. You're naked”
Her face turns a shade of pink you’d never seen before, and her head swims with insecurities and nervousness. But she manages to bring out an air of confidence and gives you a sultry smirk
“So, answer the question. Was it a good picture?”
Taglist:@wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha x reader#marvel#fanfic#marvel fanfiction
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Ghost King's Son
So! Cloning is a difficult process.
It takes time, lots of time. Sure, it's possible to accelerate the Growth of a Clone to make them older in a shorter time frame, but that often leads to Destabilization within weeks of completion.
And Cadmus didn't want to take any chances when designing their Kryptonian/Human Hybrid. They started growing him much earlier than they originally did, and let him grow at a semi-normal rate for most of his life.
This comes back to bite them in the butt however, when an asset breaks out of containment and ruins their Internal Power Generators. This causes a blackout that takes hours to resolve, and by the time they fix it all and reestablish the Security Systems, they notice one of the Clones is missing.
The Kryptonian/Human Clone has escaped.
...
Kr-1 is confused. He had woken up in a tube a few hours ago to some alarms, and decided he didn't like it, so he broke out. Then he wandered around until he ended up outside, and just kept on Wandering.
It had been hours, and he didn't know where he was. It seemed to be some type of Forest, but he didn't know what kind.
He just kept on wandering. It started to get boring though, the trees all looked the same and there weren't even any animals around. Then, something interesting happened!
A green thing appeared in the air! It was glowing and swirly and had a kind of pull to it. So, he touched it. And it sucked him in. And now he wasn't in the Forest. And this place seemed much more interesting!
There were a bunch of floating rocks, and the sky was green, and everything else was purple.
And there was a man. Looking at him hurt his eyes, he seemed to be a kid and then an man and then an old man and then a kid again whenever he blinked. He was saying something, but Kr-1 didn't understand him. He didn't think he had been taught language yet? What was language?
The Kid/Man/Old-Man lead him to a big building made of bricks and mortar. It looked like a big spiky building with towers and walls and stuff. Inside it looked cool, with candles and carpets and even more stuff.
He was taken to a room with a guy who didn't hurt his eyes to look at. He had white hair and green eyes, but his skin wasn't blue like the old guy. He had a piece of ice on his head, it looked like a crown but it was glowing.
The Guy walked up to him and pointed to himself, and kept repeating something. "Danny".
Eventually Kr-1 realized that it was his name. He then pointed to Him and said "name?"
He tilted his head confused, and the guy, Danny, let his head fall with a sigh.
"This is gonna be harder than I thought."
He wondered what those words mean?
...
It had been a few years since the newly dubbed Conner had begun to live with Danny.
He had been hesitant to adopt the Living 9 yr old Child when Clockwork had brought him to his Castle, explaining that he had run into a Natural Portal, but he had accepted in the end.
It took a while to teach Conner how to understand Language. He seemed to know very little for a kid his age, but after Clockwork had dug around his personal timeline they figured out that he was a Clone. He probably hadn't reached the Information Planting Stage of development when he escaped.
After learning about this however, Danny began teaching him everything he should have learned in his early life, such as Elementary level education and some social interaction. He even brought around Ellie to see if she had any advice for helping him develop into a healthy young boy.
She did help a bit, but was mostly preoccupied with spoiling her new Nephew rotten.
Eventually, Conner had caught up to the level he should have been at his age, and started living in both the Realms and in Amity.
He was having a good life, had some great friends, and was even starting to learn to use his Kryptonian Powers now that they were coming in.
He loves his new Family, his Dad is goofy and fun, his Aunt Ellie likes to spoil him rotten, his Aunt Jazz is the responsible one but still loves him, and even his grandparents are great in their own Insane way.
But not all great things can last.
...
It was supposed to be a normal Field Trip. Conner was 15 and his school was taking a Trip to Washington DC, to see the sights or to learn about history or something.
But stuff happens. They just so happen to pass by a certain lab, that lab just so happens to be testing out a new Yellow Sun Energy Detector, and one of the Scientists who worked on Conner just so happens to see him in the bus as it passes by and the detector goes off.
In the end, they manage to recapture him and place him back into his Pod, beginning to prep him for Reeducation. (Let's say they mamage to repress his memories)
Cut to 1 year later and a team of Sidekicks break into the Lab and successfully steal away the Clone again.
The Clone who knows he had a dad who had black hair and blue eyes, who helped him use his powers, who looks a lot like Superman.
Conner, in his slightly Amnesiac state thinks he has already met Superman and that he had raised him. Which makes it so much more hurtful when Superman outright rejects him. He thinks his Dad just rejected him, the Dad who he thinks he remembers loving him very much.
(Danny had been frantically looking for his son for over a year now. Where is he? Is he Okay? What happened to him? He knows at least that he isn't dead yet, but he really wants to find his son)
#Dp x dc#Dpxdc#Dc x dp#Dcxdp#Danny Phantom#Dc#Dcu#Ghost King AU#Conner Kent#Kon-El#Conner is the son of Danny#Since he was made much earlier on he had a chance to escape earlier in the timeline#Amnesia#Conner vaguely remembers his life with Danny but thinks that it was Superman cause they look similar#Angst#I wanted to let Conner still join YJ#This is how I decided it would work
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Fantasy Guide to Creating Your Own Language
When writer's set out to world-build, language has a huge role in creating new cultures and lending a sense of realism to your efforts. A world and people just feel more real when language is involved. As the old Irish proverb says "tír gan teanga, tír gan anam”. A country without a language, is a country without a soul. So how can we create one?
Do Your Homework
First things off, you should start by studying languages. Nobody is asking you to get fluent but it's important to understand the basic mechanics of language. You will start to see certain tricks to language, how verbs are conjugated and how gender effects certain words. It will be easier to make up your own when you know these tricks. For example, in Irish one doesn't scold but "gives out to" - "a thabhairt amach". In German, numbers are arranged differently to the English with the smallest digit arranged before the tens for example 21 - Einsundzwanzig. By immersing yourself in an array of different languages (I recommend finding ones close to how you want your language to sound), you can gain the tools necessary for creating a believable language.
Keep it Simple
Nobody expects you to pull a Tolkien or channel the powers of David J. Peterson (hail bisa vala). You're not writing a dictionary of your con-lang. You will probably use only a handful of words in your story. Don't over complicate things. A reader will not be fluent in your con-lang and if they have to continually search for the meaning of words they will likely loose patience.
Start Small
When you're learning a language, you always start with the basics. You do the exact same when writing one. Start with introductions, the names of simple objects, simple verbs (to be, to do, to have for example) and most importantly your pronouns (you will use these more than any other word, which is why I always start with them). Simple everyday phrases should always be taken care of first. Build your foundation and work your way up, this is a marathon not a race.
Music to the Ears
If your creating a new language, you're more than likely doing it phonetically. Sound is important to language and especially a con-lang because you want to trick your reader into thinking of a real language when reading the words on the page. I suggest sitting down and actually speak your words aloud, get the feel of them on the tongue to work out the spelling. Spellings shouldn't be too complicated, as I said before the readers aren't fluent and you want to make it easier for them to try it out themselves.
Also when you're creating the con-lang, it's important to figure out how it sounds to an unsuspecting ear. If a character is walking down a street and hears a conversation in a strange language, they will likely describe to the reader what it sounds like. It might be guttural or soft, it might be bursque or flowery. It's always interesting to compare how different languages flow in the ear.
Writing in Your Language
Now that you've written your language and created some words, you will want to incoperate them into your story. The way most writers do this is by italicising them. As a reader, I generally prefer authors not to go too overboard with their con-lang. Swathes of con-lang words might intrigue a reader but it can leave them confused as well. It is better to feed con-lang to your readers bit by bit. In most published works writer's tend to use words here and there but there are few whole sentences. For example in A Game Of Thrones by George RR Martin, has actually only a handful of short sentences in Dothraki despite the language being prevalent throughout the book. Daenerys Targaryen pronounces that "Khalakka dothrae mr’anha!"/"A prince rides inside me!" and it's one of the only sentence we actually see in actual Dothraki.
There's also nothing stopping you from just saying a language has been spoken. If you're not comfortable writing out the words, then don't make yourself. A simple dialogue tag can do the trick just fine.
Know your Words
I do recommend keeping an actual record of your words. Make a dictionary if you want or a simple list of words you need. This is one of the most entertaining aspects of world building, have fun with it, go mad if you like. Also here's a short list of questions you can ask yourself about language in general which might help your juices flow.
#Fantasy Guide to Creating Your Own Language#Con-langs#Con langs#Writing a con lang#writing#writeblr#writing resources#writing reference#writing advice#ask answered questions#writing advice writing resources#writers#Writing advice writing reference#Writing reference writing advice#Writing rescources#Writing resource writing reference#Fantasy guide#Writing guide#Writing how to#nanowrimo
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Dehya + Arlecchino Forgotten!Creator AU
A proper response to @ninjacomix sorry for the wait!
Dehya
You woke up in the deserts of Sumeru when you first arrived in Teyvat, so it’s no surprise that the first people you met were Eremites
Unlike the Traveler, you are not immediately attacked- half because of your divinity subtly making them more docile, and half because you’re covered in sand and dressed in foreign clothes and practically melting under the sun- and yeah, you look too pathetic to rob
They end up taking you back to Aaru Village, and that’s where you end up meeting Dehya.
Well, technically you meet Dehya the day after you arrive, when you rush outside during a sandstorm and spot her fighting monsters
It’s a bit surreal, watching an actual fight like this, and you’re frozen in awe
At least until you notice the Rifthound sneaking up on her
You’re panicking as you lunge forward, feeling something begin to expand inside you, and-
Everything is still
Both the storm and the Rifthounds are frozen in place, and Dehya is looking at you, extremely confused
“What is this?!?” “HOW SHOULD I KNOW?!?!” “YOU’RE THE ONE DOING IT!!!!”
Dehya dispatches the Rifthounds quickly, and the sandstorm resumes
And the next day, the both of you set out towards the Akademiya, wanting to figure out what your deal is
(You don’t realize that now the gods are remembering the creator, the Akademiya is Scrambling to find any and all information on you and why they forgot you)
During the journey the both of you grow close, and a few weeks in, the both of you wrapped in a blanket to protect from the chill of a desert night, you turn to her.
“Hey, let’s get married.”
And after choking on her water, she agrees to it
Congratulations! You have a wife!
The Creator, showing up hand in hand with an Eremite is not what an Akademiya scholar expected to see at four in the morning on a random day, but that is what he saw- and he thinks the subsequent panic is very understandable
Before you know it, you and your new wife are sitting in the acting grand sages office as Nahida uses some kind of Archon communication to page the other Archons
It takes about an hour for them to burst through the door
(In that time you’ve taught Alhaitham and Dehya how to play Rock Paper Scissors, Go Fish, Uno, and you’re in the middle of teaching them slapjack. Alhaithams hands are suspiciously red and Dehya is smirking)
They’re instantly fretting over you, apologizing for forgetting you and generally praising you, completely overwhelming until Dehya pulls you away
“Hey! Who are you supposed to be!” It’s Venti, disappointed that his god has been taken from him
“That’s my wife!” You state proudly.
And then everything clicks
“Wait, I’m a god?”
The room explodes in noise, but Dehya’s hand never leaves yours
Arlecchino
When it comes to Arlecchino, instead of taking you to Aaru Village, you ask them to take you to the border of Fontaine
You’ve only made it to the end of Sumeru in the Archon Quests- maybe if you head to Fontaine now, you’ll get to see the Archon Quest in person!
It’s only once you’ve taken the Aquabus to the Court of Fontaine that you realize you do not have a single mora on your person.
It’s after a day of exploring that you end up near the sea, and after being startled by a giant crab appearing from nowhere (It was Very Scary I promise) you end up tumbling into the water, you’re trapped under, and-
Wait… you can still breathe!
You light up with excitement, diving deeper, and that begins your life as a diver.
You end up becoming a collector, selling cool shells and oddities to anyone in the Court who’s willing to buy them (You’ve built up a pretty good rapport with the supply manager of Chiori’s Boutique)
It’s also underwater that you discover you’re the creator- finding an old abandoned temple with murals of a god that look just like you, helping you make sense of the power beneath your skin
But hey, if no one else was gonna bring it up, you wouldn’t either
And it’s underwater that you end up meeting your first Fatui member: Freminet
He was surprised when he first saw you swimming around- but now he’s grown pretty accustomed to you, and sometimes you guys even interact
Admittedly, sound doesn’t travel well underwater, so most of your communication is via charades, but the two of you end up growing close
Freminet shows you cool diving spots, you collect valuables from the ocean floor together, swim together in blissful silence, and play with all the friendly ocean animals you seem to attract
It only takes about a month for Freminet to begin mentally referring to you as mother (This boy is starved of a parental figure)
And after that it only takes a week before he slips up
He’s waiting in Father’s office, looking around as he waits for him to arrive
It’s pretty sparsely decorated- but there are a few ornaments still left around.
“Mother would like this…” Freminet muses, looking at a small model boat, delicate and intricately carved.
A flash of heat at his back. “… What did you just say?”
After a very long and frantic explanation, and a slightly shorter lecture on stranger danger, Arlecchino demands to meet you.
You first meet the harbinger after a day diving with Freminet, and he shoots you an apologetic look as you both surface to find a harbinger on the shore
And then you make eye contact
Your thoughts: That is a harbinger. From the Fatui. Huh. I’m going to pretend not to know that.
Arlecchino’s thoughts: That is the Creator that The Tsaritsa told me to look out for. They have the exact same appearance. I will pretend not to know that.
Arlecchino asks you to tea to get to know you better, and it devolves from there.
At your tea party, she introduces herself as a completely normal orphanage matron, and you’re polite enough to not point out that her brooch is a tiny Fatui emblem
You introduce yourself as a normal diver and she ignores the fact that your spoon has been stirring sugar into your tea without you even touching it
Your relationship continues in a similar fashion, with the both of you pretending to be a completely normal couple
After a few months, when both of you are getting married, you both ignore the oddities of your guests
“Ah, darling, the Fatui are here.” “Oh yes, they sponsor my orphanage, how polite of them to come.”
“Angel, Morax is here.” “Huh. Isn’t he supposed to be dead?” “Yes.” “Well, I’m glad he could make it.”
The both of you continue with intense purposeful ignorance
Venti: Your grace, do you really want to marry the harbinger? Is she threatening you?
You: What harbinger? I’m marrying a completely normal and totally average orphanage owner. So kind and generous she is.
Arlecchino, in the background, kicking Childe for trying to start a fight at her wedding, pausing to turn and wave: Hello.
Also Freminet is the flower girl
#genshin sagau#sagau#sagau genshin#sagau x reader#sagau forgotten!creator au#genshin impact sagau#sagau cult au#Sagau forgotten!creator au#sagau Dehya#Sagau Arlecchino#Sorry if my writing is inconsistent I won’t fix it#forgotten!creator au
656 notes
·
View notes
Text
Part 2 of Neighbor!Johnny!
(Feeling a bit ✨naughty✨ this Christmas Eve so… here.)
After the fight with Ryan, you try to keep your distance from Johnny — keep the peace and all that. The more you think about the accusations your husband made… the more that guilty pit in your stomach grows.
It’s all been platonic, at least on your end. Sure, you let Johnny get away with a bit more than the average stranger, but he’s a good friend! Nothing you wouldn’t let one of your other friends do. (Even if you would find the lingering touches and general disregard for personal space a little strange from someone else.)
Sure, you have a suspicion every now and then that Johnny has more than platonic feelings for you… but they’re fleeting. Every time you worry that he’s about to cross a line, he always draws away from it. Evens out his smile, break his gaze, drops his hand. You’re close, that’s all.
But… if it’s bothering your husband. Well, you’re obligated to take that into account, aren’t you?
Even if you ache, missing your friend. Missing his silly little jokes, his cheeky grin. Miss his company while you do laundry, a helping hand in the yard, even just someone to chat with over podcasts and tv shows.
Hell, you miss hugs. Ryan’s never been big on… affection. Especially not in public.
(Barely in the house, either, really. You’ve tried talking to him about it. He swears he loves you, he just doesn’t show affection that way. You struggle to figure out why that’s so with you when he has no problem hugging his mother, sister, hell, even his secretary.
Actually… you struggle to figure out how he shows you affection. So you’ve stopped trying to figure it out at.)
But Johnny. Oh, Johnny is just so sweet to you. A hug when he greets you, a hug before he leaves. A kiss to your cheek when you hand him a drink or a snack. A hand on your hip when he leans past you to get things from high shelves. Nudges to your thighs during good parts of shows.
You miss it. Him. The friendship you’ve built in your too-quiet home, where the other neighbors seem to like your husband so much more than you.
“What’s goin’ on, hen?” Johnny asks one morning. You’ve been keeping coffee dates meetups on the porch. Which is almost worse, because it’s cold and you find yourself cuddling up to the heat he exudes like a furnace. “Hardly seen you in a month; miss my best girl.”
“Sorry, Johnny,” you sigh, rubbing at your face. Ryan’s been working late most days this week, comes in so late and wakes you up. “Just… Ryan, ya know.”
His jaw tightens, eyes flashing dangerously. You’re reminded suddenly, inexplicably, of just what Johnny does for a living. How often you’ve seen him just back home with blood still buried in his nail beds.
“Dinnae, hen,” he replies. “What about ‘im?”
You fidget, eyes on your half-empty mug. It feels wrong, admitting relationship quibbles to someone outside of family. You used to have a policy that marriage matters should stay within the marriage. But… it’s hard when it feels like you’re the only one working on the marriage. It’s a lot of work to do alone.
“He just… he doesn’t think it’s proper,” you admit, “how… how often you’re over. How close we are.”
“That so?”
You hunch your shoulders, feeling wrong. Feeling guilty for a whole new reason; for disappointing Johnny.
“Look at me, bonnie?”
He has to tip your chin up with his hand to get you to meet his eyes. His expression is softer than you expect.
“What about you, eh?”
“Me…?” You blink, peering up at him through your lashes.
“Yer feelings are all I care about, hen.”
“Johnny,” you sigh, trying to reprimand, but sound more pleading instead. He shakes your head a bit, gently; his own reprimand.
“Answer me, bonnie.”
“I like spending time with you,” you whisper.
The corners of his mouth twitch up as he hums.
“‘Course ye do,” he hums, “‘n I like spendin’ time with you. It’s not fair of ‘im, is it?”
You blink, brows pulling together in confusion. Johnny continues, the thumb on your chin gently stroking.
“Not fair of ‘im to keep you all cooped up here, come home so late, neglect ye when he is around,” he coos. “And now he’s tellin’ you to keep away from your best friend.”
He tsks, that dangerous glint in his eyes again.
“Wastin’ his tongue for bullshite when he should be usin’ it to lick your pretty pussy.”
Your mouth drops open, shock and heat flooding you hotly. “Johnny!” You gasp, scandalized.
He finally cracks a grin again. “Tell me I’m wrong, bonnie, ‘m not! When’s the last time he worked you over the way you deserve, huh? When’s the last time he made you squirt all over your sheets?”
You shove at him and then cover your burning face, trying not to squirm. Can’t answer because it would be proving him right and you don’t want to encourage his scandalous teasing.
“Bet he’d try to make you change ‘em even if he did,” Johnny grumbles, shaking his head. “Disgraceful. You ought to be put to sleep on a nice, thick cock.”
Whack!
“Oi! What was that fer?!”
“You’re being a creep, Johnny!” Your stern tone in undercut by your embarrassed laughter. “Quit talking about my shitty sex life.”
“So it is shitty!”
“Shut up!”
When a discreet box shows up at your door two days later, you know exactly who it’s from.
…that doesn’t stop you from using the (shockingly detailed and realistic) dildo inside the packaging.
#cod#my writing#fanfiction#reader fic#dark fic#neighbor johnny#merry Xmas you filthy animals#more like xxxmas#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mactavish
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
chaotic unhinged lines from 2022-2023 (prompt edition).
basically in 2021 i made a list of prompts inspired by lines in tiktok videos and instagram reels that made me laugh so hard i cried! and now i have returned with another list! these may provide an alarmingly clear image of what my sense of humor is (aka broken) but i figure a little levity is always a good thing! more prompts are forthcoming, but in the mean time: bon appetit!
knowledge has always chased you, but you've always been faster.
no... no, that was mango apathy juice. from the farmer's market.
of all these people, you are the one i understand the least. i want to get to know you better, but like, not that much better.
i-i will CHEW YOUR MEAT!! WHAT are you doing?!
ooooh god, no, you wouldn't be long getting frostbit!
you are evil. like a hobbit.
WHY MUST YOU FAIL ME SO OFTEN?!?!!?
i have had a perfectly wonderful evening, but this wasn't it.
AHEM!! fill my cup.
may god ignore you like you ignored my greetings.
i will avenge you mister van gogh.
call off work bestie, we need you to solve a murder. here's fifteen dollars.
you're not in love. you may think you are, you dumb fuck, but you're not.
go ahead and put the ranch away.
sadly, "hopefully" doth butter no parsnips.
forget school, i want to be an italian sandwich.
you shouldn't skip work, you are a lawyer and he is a hamster.
you can stop roleplaying now. you're free.
her coupon game was so fucking raw.
i'm sorry guys... he's making a salad.
you could get a straight guy here if you learned to make a good pasta. i'll teach you how to make a risotto that'll get you married and out of my basement.
hey, do you want me to get together a plate of roast beef and hide it in our room so we can have night meats?
it's not the most ethical thing in the world, but in a pinch you can hand off a cursed object to basically any baby.
no, children, you're wrong. once upon a time, there was a piece of wood.
and i'm not saying she deserved it, but i am saying that god's timing is always riiiiight.
hydrate or die-drate, ya DICK!
why did the monkey fall out of the tree? because it was DEAD.
new york city is a fictional place written up by someone with a sinister mind and a knack for comedy.
this is grindr my guy.
wait, i didn't finish teaching you the difference between human and wolf anatomy.
it's time to tell your grandmother that she was wrong. do not be afraid.
vanilla vodka... you fucking child.
without ash to rise from, a phoenix would just be a bird getting up.
you are fucking alive. do what you want.
why are you cradling me like a baby, friend? this isn't how guys of my generation hang out.
i hope a hedgehog shits in your cereal, you difficult person.
you know, i am not as mean as i would like to be. and i think people should appreciate that more.
see, i am not a kangaroo.
well, i'd like to help, but... you see... not as much as i'd like not to.
rest in peace you fucking onion fairy.
when god sings with all his creations, will a turtle not be part of the choir?
i fight for a seat in heaven, every. single. day.
map maker? can you find me somewhere on the map where this big man thinks he's the king?
you bald-headed demon...
so... there are 24 million pigs in australia... and 24 million people... so if you ever feel lonely, there's like, a pig out there that's sort of your cosmic twin.
remember, alcohol is god's apology for making us self-aware.
i'm straight!! stop CONFUSING me!!!!!
you guys want something to eat? because... i know we'll die if we don't eat.
he is a BIBLICALLY gorgeous man. i wanna feed him grapes. i wanna fan him with the frond of a date palm from the forests of Lebanon. i wanna find the alabaster vial of perfume oil that one woman broke for jesus and comb it through his hair. like... he's stressing me OUT.
i'm not sad! i'm freaking HUNGRY!
maybe, if we wait a little bit longer, a fuck will fall into my hand, and i can give it to you.
it's not my fault you thought you lived in this IKEA.
let's leave my mother out of this.
jason may kill people but he's not bad enough to kick a dog.
i run for LUMP!
oh no, i'm all out of caring, baby!
you don't think it mcbe that way... but it mcdo.
what is this enticing bowl of white?
serious question, do his nipples sparkle?
what in the reese's peanut butter fuck is going on here?
if your parents don't buy it, stop loving them!
i just hope you know just how much you've decreased productivity today.
that was poetry at its FINEST.
and if you let that motherfucker shenan ONCE, you best believe they're gonna shenanIGAN!
may god bless the dinosaur that died to make the fossil fuel that was treated to become petrol in the car that took her mom to the hospital to give birth to her.
that's modern milk for ya. what a time to be alive.
you have attachment issues. please fix it.
remember when people had secrets? we should bring that back.
the moon landing was an elaborate marriage proposal.
i don't like the cobra chicken.
i didn't know eggs were this expensive? it's time to lay my own, i fear.
so you're saying the reason i don't have a girlfriend is because i'm not a big enough threat yet.
god gave him a top lip, that's why he's so powerful.
it's a common mistake, but frankenstein was actually the author.
i finally got a pocket-sized diary!!! also i don't get the concept of life.
if a beautiful woman disagrees with me, i will immediately change my view. i've no principles.
how did you all end up married to such boiled potatoes?
if so much as one tear drops from their eye... i will slap you back into your mum.
you are ringing a phone that does not like to be rung.
look how Dr. doofenschmirtz had a fucked up childhood but didn't project his trauma onto his teenage daughter. he projected it onto a platypus.
it is mathematically impossible for you to get a wedgie.
i'm breaking up with you. i love you, it's just... i don't think you could protect me from a mummy.
if you can't do fractions....... you will fucking die.
that's right; in the year 1791, all of our bottoms were killed in a Big Bottom Massacre.
people always assume i'm mean. like CAN you BELIEVE THAT CRAP?! like WHAT would make you think i'm MEAN?! I'M THE NICEST PERSON ON THE PLANET!
the chocolate milk is strikingly overpriced and at the same time very easy to steal; another of god's little tests.
someone's gotta tell the waiter that i ordered mashed 'taters and it sure as shit ain't gonna be me.
if i had a week i couldn't list all the reasons that wouldn't work.
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Humans are weird: What use is honor in war?
( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)
*Clouds of ash part to reveal burnt out husks of barracks complexes, shatter communication towers, and looming over all of it was the crumbling structure of the once proud command center itself.*
*Setting down in front of the command building a small squad of human soldiers approach and form a cordon to either side of the lowering boarding ramp.*
*General Marius Fimble slowly walks down the ramp flanked by a pair of black clad honor guard. His robotic left foot slamming against the ramp with a resounding cannon like echo until he reaches the bottom*
Colonel: *Salutes* General.
Marius: *Returns salute lazily while scanning surroundings* Colonel.
Colonel: You can relax sir; we’ve cleared the area of all resistance.
Marius: Complacency breeds overconfidence; never forget that.
Colonel: Sir!
Marius: Do you have him?
Colonel: We are keeping him in the main building to prevent escape.
Marius: *Confused* Have they made attempts?
Colonel: First one he killed three and injured twelve.
Marius: First?
Colonel: Second he killed seven and injured six, then again three hours later with eight injured.
Marius: He’s tried escaping three times already?
Colonel: Oh no.
Colonel: Those were all within the first seven hours of capture; we’re on twenty seven attempts by now.
Marius: *Grunts*
Marius: Let’s get this over with then before he kills any more of my men.
*Colonel escorts the general and his guards inside the command center. Descending three flights of stairs the group comes to an armored door guarded by twenty soldiers and an auto turret pointed at the doorframe*
Marius: Open it.
*The armored door slowly creeks open as all twenty guards take aim at the opening. The auto turret slowly begins spinning its turrets in preparation to fire as the general walks by.*
Marius: *Waves his bodyguards* Wait here.
Colonel: I would not recommend that, sir.
Marius: *Walks past Colonel and into the room* Noted.
*The door slams behind Marius as he takes in the surroundings. A single light hangs from the ceiling illuminating a lone figure secured firmly to the ground my numerous heavy chains*
Marius: Commandant Fring, we meet at last.
Fring: *Spits out glob of purple blood at Marius’s feet*
Marius: *Steps over it without acknowledging it*
Marius: I had heard tales of the great Grung military back in my academy days and I must say after fighting you, I am deeply underwhelmed.
Fring: *Low growl*
Marius: *Circling the room* Over a thousand years of military prowess and I took you apart in less than a day.
Fring: YOU STRUCK WITHOUT HONOR!
*Fring lunges at Marius who doesn’t flinch. The chains straining under the sudden pressure with Fring just out of reach of Marius’s throat*
*Marius watches in silence as Fring continues for several minutes before relenting*
Marius: I never understood that.
Fring: What?
Marius: Honor.
Fring: You do not understand it because you have never held it.
Fring: You preach of taking down our military when you attacked like cowards and thieves in the dead of night! Slaughtering my warriors while they slept rather than dying by their hands on the field of battle!
Marius: The purpose of war is to win.
Marius: Everything else takes a back seat to that one concept; because if you don’t win nothing you were fighting for matters.
Fring: And yet it is the manner of how you fight that defines who you are.
Fring: And you are a coward!
Marius: So you justify your incompetence by claiming I am a coward?
Fring: You dare!?!
Marius: You were unprepared for an attack despite declaring war on my people. They should have been mustering for war and already onboard troop ships heading out of system; instead they were…how did you put it? Ah yes, they were sleeping.
Marius: *Leans in close to Fring who lunges again only to be grabbed by the general’s hand*
*The general’s grip is iron and Fring claws at it as he gasps for air. There is no emotion behind the eyes of the human leader as he watches his foe*
Marius: Honor, is a novelty for those who can afford it. A justification to fight in a manner of combat they prefer regardless of how many souls die by the outdated ideal that is “Honor”. I fight to win wars, and though my victories seem beneath you I ensure that my men, my soldiers, will return home safe and sound because I fought using my head and not my heart.
*Marius let’s go of Fring who collapses to the ground*
Marius: *Looks down at Fring* You fought with your heart and you lost five field army’s worth of soldiers in a single night.
Fring: Do you keep me alive just to mock me? End me then, for I will hear none of this.
Marius: *Chuckles* I’m sure I had a reason for keeping you alive, but seeing you now I can’t for the life of me wonder why I thought it was worth the effort.
Marius: *bangs on door and the door opens*
Marius: *motions to the soldiers* kill him.
#humans are insane#humans are weird#humans are space oddities#humans are space orcs#scifi#story#writing#original writing#niqhtlord01
215 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello!
Could you possibly do a cute opposites attract for Billy Hargrove? Not like a nerd reader, more like a flower child in a way. I think the idea would be very cute and funny.
I hope you have a great day!
•Interesting. I've never written something like this but I'm determined to be happy to try. In any case, I am ready to satisfy your request again. I want to point out how the word "flower child" stuck in my mind, making the reader a true flower child, in the literary sense. I hope you like it!
Sunflower
Billy Hargrove x FlowerChild!Reader
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: The late warm spring afternoon in Hawkins looked spectacular. The flowers were blooming and the sweet breeze touched you making you feel like you were in a fairy tale. But the day had other plans in mind for you and you never thought you would find him.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Fluff, slight angst? fem!reader, no use of Y/N, your surname is Williams, bad language, opposite attract, sigarettes, daddy issue.
𝐀/𝐍: Request from @unamused-boss ,I hope I have satisfied your request! I apologize for any errors and I also hope that I have exceeded your expectations. Sorry for my english this is not my native language. Please support and reblog! Hope you enjoy this one. (DIVIDER NOT MINE)
It was a late afternoon in Hawkins. Spring had just begun and the flowers had just bloomed, coloring an isolated part of the forest forgotten by everyone. It was like an enchanted place, you had to go through the woods to get there but you didn't mind walking a bit. It felt like a real paradise, it was like your secret place. No one could get there, only you knew how to get in and you knew how to get out.
Every day after school you go there. School could be hard and going there among the greenery and flowers made you happy and let your emotions shine through.
The flowers that surrounded you were all sunflowers, a truly infinite field, with the presence of a few daisies.
You had always been a girl with elegant feminine tastes, high grades but also a strong and difficult character. Nothing could make you happier than nature and flowers in general. You had a nice green thumb, you knew how to grow and plant. This is due to the fact that your uncle worked for a long time in the countryside and when you went to visit him for the holidays there was always something new to learn.
Today you headed there once again, full of happiness. The sun warmed you as you walked through the green tall grass. You sat down, letting the fresh air and surrounding sounds carry you away. The wind, the birds singing..."Holy shit!" you heard in the distance. You reopened your eyes in confusion and saw something you never expected to see. Someone had managed to get to your secret place. The worst thing? It was Billy Hargrove.
Billy Hargrove was a boy who went to the same school as you, he was lazy, didn't work hard at school and only thought about having fun and going to parties drinking like crazy. Besides this, he was also a very attractive boy, with long blond curls and crystal blue eyes and a nice physique. In short, aesthetically he was very handsome, you couldn't deny it, but otherwise he wasn't really your type, he was your opposite, you couldn't hope to get along with him.
You hadn't spoken to him much, you had only tutored him last year to help him with his grades. Needless to say, he tried to persuade you by convincing you to do his homework but luckily you were smarter than him. Now he had improved, but it was clear that he didn't want to study or think about his future.
From the way he was fidgeting you could tell he got lost "Hey!" He screamed as soon as he saw you, most likely he didn't recognize you. You stood up from where you were sitting as the skirt of your white dress fluttered. Billy looked at your figure, you were more enchanting than ever and perhaps he had never noticed it until now. You got closer and Billy did the same thing. "Look who's here, Williams." he said sarcastically "Nice to see you Hargorve" you also added a note of sarcasm but still keeping a certain lightness in your words "You can call me Billy" he winked at you and you rolled your eyes.
To be clear. You don't hate him. You know he was teasing you and obviously you didn't get carried away by his games. He was just different and as much as you might hope for redemption from him, you had to accept the fact that Billy Hargorve was the same old bad boy who will never change, and that everything good he had is gone.
"Did you get lost by any chance?" You asked looking at the field and he took a cigarette out of his pocket and you ignored him "What do you say? Do you think I'm a guy who loves remote places?" He looked at you with an obvious look as he lit his cigarette. The nauseating smell of tobacco pervaded you while with one hand you tried to get rid of the bad smell "No, but apparently you love the woods. In short, to come here you have to go through the woods, so excuse me if I ask you, but what do were you doing there?" Billy didn't answer you for a moment, he could have said "it's none of your business" or "Don't mind any fucking business that doesn't concern you Williams" in a more vulgar way, but he didn't. Even though he could be harsh, he wasn't that bad after all and it wasn't appropriate to use such forced language in front of a damsel.
"I was... walking" he didn't add anything else while his curls fluttered a little from here to there. From his tone you felt like he wanted to tell you something, but he decided not to. Maybe he had a rough day? Or maybe he's just in a bad mood? You've started to speculate. Although curious about what that walk meant, you decided not to say anything else and responded with a simple "Okay" and then silence fell.
"And you? Why are you here? Is the little damsel lost too?" You crossed your arms at his typical womanizer nickname "Oh no. I'm not lost. I come here often" He raised an eyebrow as he blew smoke from his plump lips "Why? What's great about being here looking at nothing?" You laughed slightly "You can't look at anything! Being here relaxes me and helps me to... detach myself from reality" you said the last words with a sense of sadness.
Life could be really mean and even cruel, and the worst thing is when you have no one to ask for help. When you think that nothing can help you get up and move forward, but in the end you understand that even something abstract or something concrete like an object, or anything that is not human can help you in your difficulties. Yours was nature, this secret place of yours that you wished you had discovered sooner. Few perhaps couldn't understand what you find so beautiful in plants or landscapes, and honestly not even you could explain it. Billy, on the other hand, remained silent and looked at you and then threw his cigarette on the ground and crushed it with his foot "Nonsense, you can't detach yourself from reality" his tone was serious and you looked at his features, he was angry? No. He was injured.
"As much as you try, reality is always there, you can't ignore it, much less detach yourself from it..." he continued and then he met your eyes and let out a cough "...so, Here. I find it difficult to understand what you find here Williams, maybe you're strange" he finished the sentence as if nothing had happened, as if what he had said before didn't matter. You approached him and Billy looked at you carefully "Can't you? Or maybe you don't want to?" Hargrove looked at you as if shocked "From the way you speak it's as if you want to detach yourself from reality, but you decide not to, is it perhaps because you're more worried about what happens in reality? As if every little distraction could cause something bad than not can you ignore it?" At that moment, a face never known to you formed on the face of the boy with golden curls, a different Billy you had never seen before. It was like vulnerable...
“I'm sorry, maybe this makes you uncomfortable.” You panicked. You hadn't even realized your words let alone that maybe it might make Billy uncomfortable in some way. You tried to compose yourself and walked away, changing the subject "Now I can take you back out of the woods, I know the way to-"
“My father” you were interrupted by his voice which now seemed to have taken on a different tone “What?”
"My father i can't ignore." You didn't say anything, letting him continue "I always tried to think about other things, maybe focusing on going out for parties or going to basketball games. But when I did that, my father made my life even worse, making it total shit" the wind blew was lowered and Billy in the meantime leaned with his back on a nearby tree "You're right when you say that 'I would like to detach myself from reality but I can't' because I realized that I can't do it..." his words were so genuine, so sincere, but at the same time so suffering. It was as if the Billy you knew wasn't there. They weren't his words, yet they came out of his mouth.
Instinctively you placed your light hand on his forearm and he looked back into your eyes "It's never too late to try again Billy. Don't let just one person ruin you, because then you'll end up regretting it" you replied and then you smiled. He wasn't convinced, but you were willing to let him know. You gently grabbed his hand and he let you do it, as if he was enchanted by your touch "Come with me" you said and together you walked through what was the field of sunflowers.
"You know, the first time I ended up here I thought how the day couldn't get any worse. I was lost too. But I don't think I found a better place to be" the blue-eyed boy looked around and he was like carefree "Here you don't have to fear anything, here you are safe and not even your father can hurt you" you reassured him and your hands melted. Hargrove continued to remain silent and then sat up enjoying the wind caressing his face and simply nodded.
"Can I tell you something Williams?" You nodded "Sure" he got up and took a sunflower and cut off the stem. You felt bad when the flowers were pulled down but you decided not to say anything. He looked at it carefully and then glanced at you "You like flowers right?" You nodded again "So much" Billy continued to stare at you and then with his free hand he placed a lock of your hair behind your ear, placing the flower in the same place "Then you will know what the sunflower means" your cheeks turned red admiring Billy's face with enchantment "I'll give it to you, it suits you" your heart stopped beating for a moment when the boy with golden curls smiled at you and then walked away.
You watched his figure. The sunflower symbolized the sun, therefore the light of life. When you gave a sunflower to a person it was to tell them how sunny and cheerful they are. You didn't think Billy was capable of such a gesture or even that he knew the meaning of the flower. Apparently you didn't know Billy Hargrove for all intents and purposes.
What was it you said? "As much as you could hope for redemption from him, did you have to accept the fact that Billy Hargorve was the usual bad boy who will never change, and that everything good he had was lost?" It turns out you were very wrong.
"So, will you help me out of the woods or not?" He turned around noticing that you weren't following him "Yes" You shook your head coming back to earth "You must not tell anyone what I told you, I would like it to stay between us, clear Williams?" You nodded, laughing.
From that day on you began to see Billy Hargrove with different eyes.
#stranger things#billy hargove x reader#billy hargrove fluff#stranger things billy#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x female reader#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove imagine#flowers#flower child#fem!reader
256 notes
·
View notes
Text
Joshua (Seventeen) | Nicknames
fluff | 0.9k words | gn!reader
A/N: @hanniedream we're even now, stop indulging my brainrot or we'll get stuck here >:(
You feel his eyes on you while you’re saying goodbye to his friends. It’s nothing new, Joshua generally likes to keep his eyes on you to make sure you’re alright, especially as the night draws to an end. But when you meet his gaze this time, something is wrong. It’s just a flash of something you can’t decipher in his eyes before it’s gone and he smiles warmly at you, inviting you into his open arms. When you close the distance between you, he pulls you close and kisses the top of your head before waving the guys goodbye.
Once the doors are closed, he holds you just for a second longer so you can’t escape, chuckling at your weak attempts to struggle out of his arms. You don’t move far, just enough to look at him.
“Is everything alright?” you ask him. He tilts his head a little.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” he seems confused, his thumbs stroking your waist to provide comfort.
“I don’t know, you looked a little upset for a second there,” you explain and he seems to immediately catch up, shaking his head with another smile.
“I think I’m just tired and wanted them gone already.”
You don’t think that’s all there is to it, but you let it go. You don’t have any proof, and besides - you’re a bit tired too. It’s easy to let the worry melt away when Joshua holds you in bed, your back against his chest and his lips meeting the skin of your neck between every word he speaks.
Truth be told, you forget about the incident the next day and don’t think about it anymore. Largely because Joshua now makes an effort not to make you worry. It’s childish anyway, and so he pays attention to his expression any time he sees you interact with your or his friends. It’s nothing, and you’re cute. No need to make you worry.
You only remember now that you see the same look on Joshua’s face that he had that evening after you get off the phone with your best friend. The slight frown on his face, his lips turned downwards. You wouldn’t say he looks hurt, but it’s not far from it. His eyes immediately grow wide like he’s a deer caught in the headlights when he realizes you saw and he opens his mouth to speak, but no words leave him.
“Shua, what happened?” you whisper. You put your phone down on the counter, but before you can go to him, he’s already standing in front of you. Wordlessly he helps you jump onto the counter before stepping between your legs and caging you in. You blink at him, suddenly flustered by his closeness and the position as he rests his forehead against yours. “Shua?”
“You never use any nicknames for me,” he states with a slight sigh. Better to rip the bandaid off, he figures. “You give everyone else one, though. Why not me? You don’t even call me Joshie anymore.”
You stare at him, stare at the soft look in his eyes, the slight pout to his lips. He doesn’t sound upset but it’s obvious it’s bothering him, and you wonder for how long did he let it steep inside him.
“Is that it?” you ask, not laughing, not judging, just making sure.
“Yeah,” he whines a little, “It’s stupid but it’s been on my mind for a while. Why don’t you call me anything but my name?”
“I heard you mention you don’t care about nicknames much, so I thought you’d prefer if I called you by your name,” you try to remember what was the occasion, but your memory fails you.
“Sounds like something I’d say,” Joshua hums in acknowledgement, soothing your worries by rubbing his hand across your thighs, “But I think I’d like it if you called me something sweet. Something simple.”
“My love?” you try immediately, laughing at the spark in his eyes when they meet yours. “Just love?”
He thinks it over before prompting you to say both again. His smile grows while he listens with his eyes closed, blindly leaning closer to you until his lips are on yours.
“I like when you call me yours,” he smiles into the kiss. He doesn’t pull too far away after you part.
“Just mine then,” you tease, cracking up at the sight of his offended face. His lips part and he scoffs.
“You can lose your partner privileges as fast as you get them.”
“I’m not the one who was whining about not being called anything but my name, Joshua,” you point out. However, seeing the playfulness drop from his face, you reach your arms out and hug him. “You’re cute, my love.”
He hums, his hands sliding down your thighs and to your back, returning the hug with more strength than you were prepared for. You squeak, but he doesn’t let go, not until he leaves a lingering kiss on your cheek. “I like that one.”
“I’ll experiment around with them, this one just felt right for the first one,” you promise, squeezing his shoulders, “Feel better now?”
“No longer feels like my own partner is excluding me, yeah,” he sighs dramatically, putting a hand over his heart. You smack his shoulder lightly and roll your eyes. You stop yourself from asking if he’s going to hold this against you for long - even though it was his fault for not bringing it up sooner. “I love you, my love.”
“I love you too,” you smile. It really does sound nice.
#joshua scenarios#joshua x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen reactions#svthub#svt x reader#svt scenarios#svt reactions#svt fluff#joshua fluff#drabble
402 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟒𝟐! 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 x Fem! Reader
Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.
Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡
Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.
Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ i thought about this plot over and over, and I hesitated publishing it since i don’t want to deviate so much from everything but i said fuck it, so now ere i am, greeting y’all with ‘wassup villain’
Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie @noetophat @proudgojofucker @depresssedcowboy @shuna-boin
⚠️ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⚠️ Mommy issues, mention of death,, profane language, plot progression. Pronouns keep shifting bc Miles thinks you’re a guy. A bit confusing? Anyways, congrats with your debut. I’ve got uh.. A little surprise? Enjoy.
FIC MASTERLIST
Previous Chapter || Next Chapter
"Park behind the building B, McLaren. I’ll have to deal with a separate matter, for now, call backup."
"Yes, miss."
Ring. Ring.
Your head pivots at the sound of your phone’s ringing, eagerly answering the call without having to look into the ID, knowing a thing or two about a certain someone’s timing.
“What’s going on so early in the morning?” Your father haggardly asks. You could already smell the stench of his morning breath from the car.
“We have trespassers in the Warehouse.” You start. “Two of them, partners. The duo we know as the Prowlers.”
“What?” You hear the morning grogginess laced in his voice. “Who leaked the information?”
“I’ve updated Morrison and he’s currently investigating the black market. I suspect a traitor.”
“Evidence?”
“There’d been no reports of outsiders entering the vicinity. All employees have been given fake addresses and all of their gadgets have been monitored— and so far, no one’s been flagged, so my guess is.. A higher up who’s sold us out.”
There you go.
“… I’ll look into it.” Your father mumbles. “Make sure that nothing is released into the media. The election is coming soon, we don’t want to do anything that’ll stir the public.”
“Understood.”
And the call ends just like that.
You blankly look at the road ahead of you, skin itching from the tightness and texture of your leather coat. Laid before your lap was a flat screen, in it were nine boxes— each playing a variety of scenes brought to you by the hidden cameras. Across every box, two swift figures maneuvered past the rooms with incredible ease. Several workers and scientists were sprawled across the jagged floors, motionless like corpses. You grimaced at the possibility of them being dead, but after seeing the thick gas emanating throughout every crevice of the building, you safely assumed that they were simply knocked out.
The Warehouse housed one of your father's investments; an Oscorp-Alchemax experiment funded by the elites, done underground and tested on prisoners to find some sort of super serum. When the new money folks thrusted themselves into the world of High society, most of the higher elites came to applaud the idea of one man.
Harry Osborn.
As a kid, you grew up aspiring to be like Harry. Always so friendly and approachable to anyone and everyone he’s ever met.
He did it so effortlessly that you recognized his niceness as a talent.
Harry came from second generation money— hailing this scientific empire called Oscorp. Having been brought up by his father, Norman, who was an industrialist, Harry was all things sciencey.
After his father's death, Harry sought out a blueprint of his father's past works, finding a journal containing the records of several hypotheses in regard to a variety of drugs. A sort of instruction to turn into a superhuman being, he claims, that his father had put into mind but never really practiced.
A handful of the higher-ups adored the impressionable idea, one of its primary investors being your father. You never really understood his reasons, but when the drug seemingly began showing fruitful results, your father set you up under Antonne's name to supervise Warehouse 317 after Harry entrusted your family to house the experiment.
So at that moment, you weren't you.
And Miles wasn't Miles.
He didn’t know what he was doing here. But he never bothered to really ask since his Uncle seemed tense all throughout the journey.
When Aaron told him to strap up for a sudden mission, he wasn't expecting a raid— nor was he expecting him to bring him to a hidden laboratory containing all these alien-like fuckeries. From glass beakers to drums filled to the brim with some sort of neon liquid, it all varied in levels of strangeness. Everywhere he looked, he could find the same circular, yellow warning sticker staring right back at him. Behind his digital mask, he skims past the unconscious workers— checking every crevice to see if anyone had escaped the incapacitating agent.
“According to the drive, the stuff are located in the north building.” His uncle’s voice snaps him out of the haze. “I’ll be heading there. I’m sure you can fend for yourself?”
“F’course I can,” Miles answered. “I can knock a bitch or two out with these.” He grinned while unfoldding his claw.
“You kiss your mama with that mouth? Watch yo tongue.”
“Yes, sir.”
Aaron pats his shoulder. “Record the evidence, I’ll go find the blueprints.”
With a single nod, Miles sets off with his mission in mind. When the holographic interface materializes from his wrist-mounted control panel, he activates the scanner with a light tap. The digitalized purple light cascades over the room, gathering physical data with each passing step.
He prided in his cut-edge tech— developed into great usage by his and his uncle’s hands. In a way, it reassured him that he had epically great potential, despite the current crisis going on in the city. But of course, his greatest pride was the fact that you liked the idea of the Prowler. That alone harbored him confidence he never knew he had.
Miles never initially thought of himself as a hero, no matter how much he’s worked to save the lower class of New York. Heroes existed in the confines of comic books and kids’ TV shows. He wasn’t super, and he wasn’t a hero either. The term was black and white. Narcissistic, as you would put it.
But he liked playing along to the idea of being a superhero to you.
He wanted you to gawk and admire his vigilante identity. He wanted you to look at the TV early in the morning with a mug of coffee in your hands, pointing at the screen with a squeal, ‘It’s the Prowler!’
Most of all, he wanted you to know about it eventually.
When he passes by the computers, Miles heads straight for the manila folders, unraveling his gauntlet just to grasp the files better.
[ 11 | 10 | 2020 ]
•[𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝: #𝟷𝟷𝟹𝟸] 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝟻𝟼
𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎. 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚡𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗.
𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝. 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.
With the slightest jolt of his palm, the paper crumbles, and behind it sat another file. He peers through it diligently, only to find a name signed at the bottom.
And it crumples from the clamp of his fist.
Anthony Primo-Chávez.
The surname, Primo-Chávez, was the household name of the family who owns the Primm Hotel, and a single mention of it alone only reignited the anger he was sparing for the upcoming plans. All of the rage he kept to himself was seeping out the cracks of his still-grieving heart, and the grief remained a permanent scar.
And with a whisper of the wind, the warehouse falls into darkness.
There was this chill crawling up his back, and it haunted him. And in the silence that surrounded him, he calls out for his uncle.
And it echoes, and echoes. No one replies. Only the silence answered to his desperate calls. At that point, all that he could hear was the sound of his own heart beating out of his chest— a sort of morbid reminder that he was still alive. It made him wonder if that was all his father heard when he was trapped beneath the fallen carcass all those years ago. Just like that carcass, in the midst of all that darkness, screams begin to bellow.
Oh. One of the scientists have woken up.
But all Miles could picture was all what could’ve happened that night, when everything fell apart. Did they scream like this? Call out for help like this? Did his father struggle to breathe like this?
A lone light shines above the metal rails— a watch window, large and square, gleaming in this daunt violent that flickered and flickered. There was a figure there, dark, willowy, and invasive in the way it stared.
Unmoving, watching. A gaze that lingered like the chill running down his back.
What did they do in here?
Like a croak, the question bubbles up his throat and releases.
“Who are you?”
Like a growl, the voice changer emits the query a too many tones lower. At that question, the being tilts its head.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
Velvety, low, exhausted— and it oozed from the broadcaster mic like a tease. You stared at the Prowler, almost amused by his size. From above, he seemed much tinier, like less of a threat. You feel your breath cascade against the lenses of your gas mask, sweat sticking to the leather of your gloves. There, you see the digitalized magenta and the gleam of his steel claws, as though he meant to intimidate. You stood partially befuddled at the fact that the vigilante everyone revered and loathed was likely a teenager.
“… You don’t know what this place is, don’t you?”
Ｂ Ｏ Ｏ Ｍ.
The wall beside him crumbles into dust.
Miles shields himself from the impact, the cement’s fumes blinding his sights. Upon the activation of his night vision, he searches in behind the violet screen, finding only his uncle emerging from the smoke and debris, rushing with a USB in his hands. Behind him, a flock of guards came rushing in with their ray guns— flames of red bursting into a shower as the man signaled him to run.
Miles casts a quick glance at the window above.
No one’s there.
“ＥＶＡＣＵＡＴＥ ＡＬＬ ＥＭＰＬＯＹＥＥＳ
ＩＭ ＭＥＤＩＡＴＥＬＹ. ＩＭ ＭＥＤＩＡＴＥＬＹ.”
The digital voice commands along with a blaring alarm.
The warehouse that housed this elaborate labyrinth, it continued on and on like a maze. Bland green tiles and white walls, glass screens— like a pattern he immediately grew to dislike. It all went on and on like a fever dream, but Miles’ head was ringing with the sight of the man he saw up the window.
And he lays it all out in his mind, trying to piece it altogether.
Ｂ Ｏ Ｏ Ｍ．
The walls click and collapse, and the floors shake, but Miles doesn’t look back. The sound of the guards’ heavy stomps cease though, eventually replaced with a sort of screech that irked his ears.
It was unfamiliar to him. He’s faced over a hundred bad people, but only the sight of that being unsettled him more than the rest.
“Up ahead!”
He watches as his Uncle heads right out the window with a fall, the shards ricocheting behind him like specs of snow as he throws a carabiner right back at Miles to snatch. His fingers thinly reach for the cord when he’s suddenly assaulted to the ground with a powerful force.
Ｃ Ｒ Ａ Ｓ Ｈ.
“Agh!” He grumbles in pain, rolling down to the ground. But even then, it wasn’t the pain that made every hair on his limb stand, it was the sound of your heeled boots clicking against the tiles, and the sound of your metal blade scraping against the wall.
“Mornin’, Prowler.”
Exhaustion made the delivery deeper. He senses it in you, and you sense it him. Though he was unaware of what your head was actually filled of, I’ve got a lecture at nine, I still have to do my literature essay, and I want to sleep. Miles wasn’t all that interested at all in what your mind bore. To be fair, from where he was, Miles only saw this figure towering over him with a long knife poking out its sleeve. Some gas mask, and a black leather coat. Even then as you stood above him, he could only watch as you fixed your gloves, pulling farther beneath your sleeve.
“It’s an honor to meet you like this.”
Fwip. With a crisp cut, the cord that connected him to his partner was severed. You throw it out the window along with the metal piece. “I’m not so usually cruel, but you’re trespassing my family’s property—“
“So this is your family’s property.” He stands back up, hands aching to fight. “Primo-Chávez. As I recognized.”
He claws at you, but instead, the metal meets the end of your unsheathed blade with a clink!
“You’re smart.” And when you pull away, he stumbles backward. “Let’s see if that’ll save you.”
Crack! The walls quivered as Miles narrowly avoided the blade aimed for his neck. He raises his gauntlets, lunging right at you with swift punches, to which you countered gracefully with quick blocks. Eventually, he manages to take hold of your shoulders, shoving you back with feet tangled like knots. You lower down and hook your heel over his ankle, pulling with force as he falters.
You crack your neck, pressing your heel over his shoulder to keep him down. “I’ll be honest with you, I think you’re awfully underwhelming.” You lean down to his level, musing yourself in the way he heaved.
“But I can forgive all that.” Your fingers fiddle with the strap of his backpack. “You’re useful in a way—“
With a gauntlet over your neck, he slams you against the wall.
“I ain’t working for nobody,” He churned. “And I definitely won’t be fucking working for people like you.”
“I never said you had to work for me.” You calmly replied despite his grip. “You just have to make better decisions from now on.”
“Fuck you mean by that?”
From the ache your neck bore, you knew it was gonna leave a bruise.
“Aren’t you supposed to be smart?”
He furrows his brows at that statement, holding himself back as he taunts. “… I wonder how your father is going to abandon you once I set this little investment of his on fire.”
Rather than the silence or panic he hoped, Miles heard you laugh.
“Do it.” You playfully suggest. “Do it, and kill all the other interns, employees, and guards in here.” Despite your façade, he could still sense the smirk creeping up your lips. “Then think to yourself, ask yourself; are you any better than my family?”
That alone catches him by surprise.
“… You’ve got a lot to learn.”
“What do you m—“ Before he could even finish off his sentence, a powerful strike ricochets into his stomach, sending him off to the other wall. A loud grunt emanates from his lips, hands gripping the lower of his belly as you set your foot down. “The next time we meet, do promise me that you’ll be much more of a promising opponent. Today was.. Eventless.” Your gaze sets sights on the camera hidden in the corner.
“For now, I’ll have to let someone else do the job.”
As though on cue, you see his partner rush in with the broken cord in his hand. The same broken cord you’d thrown out. Without another word, he lunges at you with lightning speed, and the way you collide with the glass wall sends ripples across the corridor.
“You goddamn son of a bitch.”
“Long time no see.”
Ｃ Ｒ Ａ Ｓ Ｈ.
And from then on, Miles watches as this figure and his uncle battled amidst the labyrinth. But your words struck him hard, ‘Long time no see’— what did that mean? Did his uncle have a sort of connection to the elites, or has he worked for the upper class before?
With how his punches flew, Miles sensed this sort of undying rage that crackled with the quiver of his Uncle’s fist.
Why did this battle seem so natural? Like the two of them know each other’s moves too well.
“I see you’ve resigned.” You curtly brought up, grunting as he mercilessly charges at you. “And seems like you’ve brought a little something with you.” Upon the mention of Miles, Aaron struck back with a blow, feigning ignorance at your words. Despite your state, you managed to put up a great fight. “Why did you bring him here? He doesn’t seem fit for the job—“
“Stop the small talk, Antonne.”
Antonne.
Anthony Primo-Chávez.
“I’m simply being polite,” You grinned. “It’s been a while, don’t you think so too?”
With that alone, Miles somehow confirmed that the figure was the heir of the hotel in the flesh. The man responsible for the deaths of many— the man responsible for the death of his father. But something felt wrong, like a sense that was gnawing at his guts.
He couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly.
Just of now, Miles realizes that he had no place here, at least, not yet. But he was just as confused as the other guy, why did his uncle bring him here if it was too dangerous?
“Is your sister also a piece of shit like you?”
Sister?
“She’s a little more pacifist than all of us.”
You lie so naturally, it was like second-nature to you— as though it was your second, utterly ridiculous hobby next to scheming. To play the part of Antonne was excruciating enough, but it was enjoyable in a way. You haven’t seen the Prowler for about four years— last seeing him when you were twelve, when he worked for the Fisks until his abrupt resignation. Next thing you and the elite knew, the mercenary who once worked for the high-class was now a vigilante working against them.
No one particularly knew the reason why. You somewhat guessed what it was.
And when the both of you crashed past the danger zone, you knew that the situation was way beyond your grasps from this point on, and the best you could hope for was a perfect gamble.
The man grabs all that he could in his anger, from glass beakers to steel rods, he figures splashing you with whatever thing he could find can help in making you perish from his sights.
You fight back, without the usage of anything else except the blade, only until Aaron repeatedly smashes your head inside a closed-off frozen cage. The two of you fall right in, breaking some sort of container in the process.
“What the fuck?”
Like a flame, it sears your skin— causing you to panic and recklessly pat away at the tar-like substance enveloping you in its sticky embrace. Without even a shriek, it consumes your system entirely, sending you down on your knees.
And the next thing you know, everything else fades into black.
Aaron pulls away, in shock of the dark matter unveiling before him. Immediately, he places a hand over Miles’ eyes, ushering him away.
From afar, they could hear the police sirens coming.
“Let’s— let’s go.” Aaron hurriedly commands.
“Uncle Aaron.”
Miles exhaustively calls out to him.
“Uncle Aaron!”
As his mask unfolds, Miles squints as the sunlight seeping from the tall trees welcomes him, shielding his face with his hands while trudging across the stones to meet his Uncle’s steps. Aaron pauses for a moment, taking only one look back.
“Why’d you bring me there?” Miles directly starts. “I wasn’t strong enough to be there— who was that guy? How- How did you suddenly know about the location of the warehouse, how did— I don’t— I-I have school in three hours, I don’t get why you had to bring me along—“
“That girl you’re seeing,” Aaron intervenes without a waste of breath. “What’s her last name?”
Miles takes a step back, furrowing his brows.
“[L/n].”
Aaron nods. “… It’s the same as the file.”
“What?”
“Bring her to dinner.”
Now everything further confused him, what did you have to do with all of this?
“I-I can’t bring her to dinner yet— what do you mean part of the f— we haven’t even gone on a date yet!”
The date set for tomorrow. The trick-or-treating date Miles had always longed for. Aaron tosses his hand upward. “Just make it quick and let me meet her.” He commands in a rush, pacing his steps faster. “We’ve got to get moving before they find us.”
“But— I don’t get it. What does [Y/n] have to do with all of this?"
Aaron stops for a moment, looking up before heaving a long, jagged sigh.
“… I got a file last night. Sent by an anonymous number. Someone managed to take a picture of you and your girl earlier when you were walking her home.”
Hearing this, a bundle of worries begin to churn in Miles’ mind. This whole night enough was messy for him, and he couldn’t understand why things were getting so complicated. Like what Antonne said earlier, it was ingrained into his mind, Aren’t you supposed to be smart?
“Along with the pictures, I got sent a file. [Y/n] [L/n], is..” Aaron consequently looks into his nephew’s eyes, a sort of hesitation imbued in his system. “Somewhat connected to the Primos.”
Miles halts entirely, and over and over, like how he’s always asked for the last hour. “What?”
“I.. I’ll just tell you when we get home.”
It was many years ago, when your mother endowed this habit of sitting you down by her vanity just to comb your hair and fix you up like a doll.
At that time, you were a tiny little girl with tiny little legs that were unable to reach the floor, instead opting to dangle them with light kicks from your seat— thinking you were some kind of mermaid. During those times, you could only spot at least the whole of your head staring right back at you, but rather than yourself, you marveled at the sight of your mother and her clothes.
The colors she wore were patterned in dates. Mauve, pink, white, and sometimes vermilion in special occasions. Those were the days she used to pick out your clothes for you, and whenever you complained about the color being too bright or dull, your mother would claim that she'd know your colors the best.
As you got older, and when you started dressing for yourself, in the colors you liked, and in the sort of mauve and pink that suited you, you watched as your mother would stare at you from afar with an irate frown, and silently, you'd think to yourself.
Even in the way I rebel against you, you still see yourself in me, because when you look at me, you see only a mirror of your younger self grimacing in disgust. You'd come so far to convince yourself that you're at the height of your being, but your daughter and your child-self only sees mediocrity.
…
“Miss?”
A flurry of people. Lots of talking. You despised that.
“Miss, are you awake?”
“[Y/n], wake up this instant!”
And at your father’s instruction, your eyes peel open almost immediately. You’re greeted with the sight of the ceiling, and your skin covered in warmth. You look at yourself, finding bruises all over your arms, still wearing your white dress shirt and formal pants. Silently, you force yourself to sit up despite the ache you felt, wincing as you spot several faces surrounding you. There was your father, pacing back and forth, certainly distressed about something; Antonne, with his arms crossed, sitting by the edge of your bed; some physician, silently standing by the side with her hands clasped together; and Harry Osborn standing alongside her.
“What’s going on in here?” You haphazardly asked.
“You almost died.” Antonne stirs the silence. “The Warehouse was set on fire, and you were still inside.”
“The warehouse was set on fire!?” You jolt up, only now realizing the dirty looks from your father. “That’s impossible, how could—“
“There were traces of gasoline.” Emerging from the doors, your father approaches you with a sort of chagrin in his glare. “Since you failed to capture or at least slow down the perpetrators, that happened.”
“… You’re placing the blame on me?” You ask, hardly believing your ears.
“We’re not—“ Just as Harry’s about to speak, your father intervenes. “Yes, we are. Because of your incompetence, we lost millions worth of money in damages!”
“Sir, calm down.”
“Father, this is what I’ve been telling you about.” Antonne pinches the bridge of his nose. “She’s sixteen! How could she have possibly fought against a mercenary!?”
“I did better than you.” Poison spewed from your lips, losing all sort of rationality. “This has never happened before. Whenever there was something any of you asked me to do, I did my very best. How could I possibly perform my best when I lacked sleep and I was dependent on coffee!?”
“Your brother is right.”
Hearing that alone was a nightmare.
“Although you’re talented in upkeep and information, you’re too young to fight against an ex-assassin.”
You helplessly scramble off the bed. “Daddy, you’re being unfair.”
Daddy. It’s like you were a ten-year-old fighting for his attention once again. You looked at Antonne, and then your father, shifting in complacency. “I worked for three years, ceaselessly. Even if it meant giving up my weekends and studying so hard that it made my nose bleed. I got the job done, even if no one paid me or thanked me, I still did everything.”
“We’ve lost a lot of resources,” Harry begins. “And we’ve been brought back to square one because of the fire.”
Before Harry could even finish off his explanation, you lift a finger and point at him accusingly. “This is because one of your people decided to leak information—“ In between your rant, Antonne attempts to soothe you. “Had it not been for the fact that you decided to let untrusted people into the faction, we wouldn— stop it, Antonne— we wouldn’t be dealing with this sort of thing. Mother warned you about it, and you brushed off her every warning— STOP IT, ANTONNE!” You finally yelled out. Your brother ceases, lifting his hands off of you after he sees that you’re shaking.
What’s wrong with me?
Why am I being more emotional than usual?
The way the rage consumed you left you in dismay. At a short moment of epiphany, you run your hands across your face and, like a switch, all of your emotions reboot.
“I apologize. I spoke out of line.”
That line alone was chilling.
“I’m sorry, [Y/n].” The tender way Harry called out your name was unfathomable. “I know it’s upsetting that your job is being taken away from you, and you have every right to get upset. However, for your sake and your health, you can pass on these responsibilities to Montrell for now.”
“Montrell’s in London.” You add. “He can’t possibly take over—“
“He’s not in London.” Antonne confesses. You furrowed your brows, shaking your head. “What are you talking about?”
“… It was going to be a surprise but..”
Oh no.
“Oh,” You blankly state, your mind rioting. “I see.”
“It’s an unplanned decision, really,” Your father explains. “Montrell also has no idea that you’ve taken Antonne’s place in taking care of the hotel for the last three years. It’d be better for you, as well, to take a break.”
You wanted to scream, break down, curse at everyone.
“I’m sorry for being too harsh on you, [Y/n].” Harry eases, placing a hand over your shoulder. “However, you have to understand that it’s also for the best.”
“I understand.” Fuck you, and fuck all of you.
“We’ll leave you to rest for now.” Yeah, leave me the fuck alone before I melt the fuck down.
As they step out, all the tension in the room leave along with the squeak of their fine, leather dress shoes. You’re left with the silent physician, whose presence you’d completely forgotten despite the wildness of her dark curls. She shifts uncomfortably, parting her lips to speak, only to find that she didn’t know what to say.
“What is it?” You ask, lowering your voice so as to not intimidate. Prompting to break the silence in her place.
The woman blinks at you, somewhat relieved by your words.
“Can I be direct, Miss?” She sternly asks.
“It’ll be better off that way, frankly.”
She leans a little closer, tugging on the sleeve of your arm. “When you first got here, your body was riddled with cuts, bruises, and broken bones around— oh, can I touch you?”
You squirm. “I’m not a relic.”
“Sorry ‘bout that. Most of the rich people I’ve worked with were usually snobby douches who think their skin shed gold.” She subtly laughs, raising the fabric up higher. “Initially, I believed you were exactly that kind of rich kid, but after seeing what happened, you don’t seem like anything they say.”
You raise a brow. “.. Have we met each other before?”
She looked at you as though you’d just insulted her, her eyes about to pop off her thick-rimmed glasses.
“.. I work at Alchemax. I’m the head of the research team in the particle accelerator project— we’ve spoken many, many times before.”
“.. You’re not my physician?”
Her lips tighten into a line. “I take what I said back. You’re exactly like all those other rich kids.”
“W-well, I’m sorry.” You grumbled. “I work with a hundred different people almost every single day, my mind usually shuts down when I’m at work.”
“Well, your father did just drag me out of the line and forced me to fix you up since they didn’t want to risk calling for a doctor who doesn’t know that you’re parading as your brother.” She spoke so quickly, it made you rethink what she just said three times. “Anyways— I needed to tell you that under my observations, you’ve healed yourself in a supernaturally fast rate that it’s groundbreaking.”
“What?”
“Six hours ago, you had broken bones in here,” She points her fingers at your shoulder. “Here,” Followed by your thigh. “And here.” Then your calf. “But after seeing your little drama session with your father, you were able to move yourself without any sort of pain. Initially, I concluded that you must’ve had some very high pain tolerance, but I noticed that so many of your cuts and bruises have all been healed, and that,” Her fingers trace a line over your neck. “That was red as hell just moments ago. Now, it’s gone.”
Oh, the mark you got from Prowler Jr after he choked the hell out of you.
You liked calling him that. Prowler Jr— a smaller, rustier protégée of the Prowler you grew up with.
“.. I wonder why so.”
There was a wily grin on her face that unsettled you tremendously.
“Well, without your father looking, I ran a test on you.”
“You what?”
Without even a single second to lose, the woman takes out few samples from her bag, laying them all out before you with a couple of handwritten documents.
“Here.” She states so proudly.
You marveled at all that she’s written— unfortunately for you, her handwriting was so messily done that you couldn’t understand a single damn thing.
“… You could get sued for this, you know that?”
“Your father wouldn’t. Unlike his children, he can’t find a replacement for me.”
Your mouth hung in disbelief at what you just heard. Rather than acknowledging the insult, however, she plucks out a print of what you assumed were tiny splotches of black tar on a petri dish.
“What the hell is that?”
“I got that swabbed out of your mouth.”
“Oh fuck, I thought I’d dieted enough for the performance!”
“It’s not sweets, sweetheart.” She answered defeatedly, clearly full of your unsure-weaponized-incompetence. “It’s a mysterious symbiote that we’ve recently caught hold of four months ago, and during your fight with the Prowler, it forged itself into your system.” Her fingers trace down your arm, grasping the center of your wrist while grinning. “And it can make you do this.”
As she squeezes your hand, a black matter ejects from your palm. You jolt away, slapping her hand off as you curse.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?”
“The symbiote.” She casually replies. “Isn’t it amazing?”
It retreats like a slimey being, pushing itself back into your skin as though it’d all been a mere hallucination.
“You mean to tell me there’s some alien slime living inside my body!?”
“Well, yes—“
“GET IT OUT OF ME!”
She winces at the loudness of your voice, moving back an inch away. “That’ll take a while for me to dissect. You have to come to my lab tomorrow if you want me to find a way to pull that away from you.”
“I can’t go tomorrow.” You had a date with Miles, and that alone was reasonable enough to miss anything and everything else. “I-I have practice for the fundraiser on Sunday, and I’m still the hostess, so I have to make sure that the preparations are seamless.”
“… I have a comment, but I’m not sure if you’ll like it since you probably hear it all the time.”
“What? That I’m just like my mother?”
She scrunches her nose. “I was going to say that you’re too young to be acting so old.” The woman turns away, beginning to pack up her things again. “You’re sixteen. You should be going out to parties, creating fake IDs, sneaking out to make out with your boyfriend— whatever other shit girls your age like to do.”
You try your hardest not to react at the last mention, since that was definitely what you just did a few hours before. You begin to rub your hands, the friction warming you up as your shoulders shrug.
“Well, as much as I want to do all that, I’ve got too much to do.”
“You won’t be sixteen forever, Miss.” She tosses the bag over her shoulder. “Take that from me. I’m forty-six, and I’ve went through a lot. I’d give everything to be your age again.”
As you watch her head for the door, you call out to her one last time.
“.. Call me [Y/n]. I don’t like it when people way older than me call me ‘miss’.”
She raised her brows. “Alright then, [Y/n].” Your name rolls off her tongue gently.
“How about you? What do I call you?”
With a hand over the knob, the woman beamed.
“.. I’m Olivia Octavius, but you can call me Liv.”
#miles morales#astv x you#42 miles morales#42 miles morales x reader#astv x reader#astv miles#astv#astv x y/n#miles morales x reader#miles morales x you#earth 42 miles morales x female reader#earth 42 miles x you#earth 42 prowler#earth 42 miles fluff#earth 42 miles morales x you#earth 42 miles x reader#miles 42#earth 42 miles morales x reader#miles morales 1610#prowler miles x reader#prowler miles#miles morales prowler#prowler x reader#atsv prowler#astv fanfic#spiderman astv
236 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fluent Freshman - Part 03
PREVIOUS
In the Fluent Freshman AU I could see a moment where Andrew kind of misses having Renee around. She was a nice quiet support for him during her time at Palmetto and now she’s graduated. Bee suggests that Andrew try and make a new friend, he can try with someone on the team even.
Andrew, initially, thinks it’s a stupid idea. He real hates pretty much every sophomore (Jack’s group) and pretty much all of the new freshmen irritate him since they’re always trying to steal Neil’s attention with all their fucking problems. The only freshman that he has no opinion on (and therefore is miles and miles ahead of everyone else) is the quiet one that he glowered at pretty early on for staring at Neil’s scars.
Except now, with the knowledge that the kid is a foreign language major, he was probably just trying to figure out what language him and Neil were talking in since the kid isn’t phased at all when Neil absentmindedly used his shirt to wipe away sweat on his face. Everyone else had LOOKED but the kid had just continued on as if it were nothing.
Nicky likes him a fair bit and has assured both Andrew and Neil, after the fourth time the kid power walked away from them, that he’s not homophobic just due to circumstances public displays of affection make him deeply uncomfortable. The Foxes have pasts and if the kid isn’t going to make it their problem then Andrew isn’t about to get irritated over it.
(Nicky doesn’t elaborate that those circumstances being that he understands that Andrew is telling Neil all the places (geographical locations) that he wants to kiss Neil and where he’d do it. He’s really not a prude but how did watching Cars 2 result in this level of dirty talk?! He’s just trying to actually get to see these movies everyone keeps referencing so that he can join in on the conversation)
The kid’s quiet company the few times Andrew’s been in it and Neil has been making some slow progress on getting the kid to open up. Andrew knows that the kid has his own weekly meetings with Betsy and he’s not about to pry.
(It’s social anxiety and stress related. No he has not told Betsy about the whole Russian situation because she’d be mad at him right? Everyone keeps telling him that Betsy and Andrew Minyard are close and that Andrew is her favorite even if she can’t admit to having something like that. She’s nice but what if she gets mad about it and tells Wymack that he’s not fit mentally to be on the team? Then what? He can’t afford college without a sports scholarship. Oh god- Betsy spends a lot of time walking him through stress relief and not worst case scenario-ing every interaction)
Andrew figures that if nothing else this kid is fine with sitting in stony silence. If it doesn’t work then w/e he tried.
So, to Fluent Freshman’s absolute horror and dismay, Andrew Minyard starts to hang around him even when Captain Neil ISN’T AROUND. He becomes unbeatable at Poker and fluent in Japanese if not fully literate.
Once it’s just Andrew and Fluent Freshman sitting in absolute silence for an hour. This might be the nicest time Andrew’s had with someone not part of his family since Renee left. “You ever consider learning Russian?” Andrew asks.
Fluent Freshman’s award winning performance starts here.
“No, I have never considered taking Russian classes here.” He responds turning a page in his book on Esperanto (he thinks it’d be fun) because why take a class for a language he’s already fluent in. He’s bad at lying but he’s GREAT at just not saying the truth.
Andrew doesn’t say anything in response and they continue to sit in silence until Fluent Freshman has to get up and go quietly have a panic attack.
Everyone, except Nicky, all think that Fluent Freshman’s the second coming of Andrew’s general apathy. Bee is proud of Andrew for willingly sitting next to someone in almost complete silence. Andrew says it helps that there’s someone else like him (Bee is confused because Fluent Freshman is known to bring his own brown paper bag to hyper-ventilate into but she says nothing.)
Only Nicky knows the full extent. Fluent Freshman is doing breathing exercises, taking pepto bismol to help his stress related stomach ulcer, and considering using his art gen-ed for theater so that he can commit to this bit better.
Fluent Freshman kind of gets used to Andrew’s quiet company until one day they’re an hour and a half into their usual absolute silence when Fluent Freshman gets up to grab something Andrew looks at him and goes “Hey wanna learn how to use a knife?” And Fluent Freshman stiffens up and straight up faints.
NEXT
#Fluent Freshman AU#He wakes up 20 minutes later to Andrew holding one of Kevin's sweat socks under his nose#Like they're smelling salts#Andrew asks if they need to go to the hospital#FF looks down and sees that all his blood is still in his body 'No I'm good'#Andrew brings it up to Neil in earshot of Nicky#Who is a bro and also thinks this is kind of hilarious#He was the only one not even kind of aware of Andreil happening#So he's excited to be the only one aware of FF's secret#'He has a big test and a stress ulcer so it was probably related to that.'#Andrew comes to their next 2-3 hours of silent company with a whole tub of 'good for ulcer' foods#FF wonders if they are all poisoned but is too awkward to decline them. He eats the probiotic yogurt and hopes that his death will be swift#AFTG#AFTG shitpost#AFTG OC#Andreil#Nicky Hemmick#Andrew Minyard#Neil Josten#AFTG fics#My Fics#In a Masterpost#FF - Pt. 03
642 notes
·
View notes
Note
hiii!!! so uh, this is sorta about 'contradicting' (?) identities in general, but i only recently found out about, like, lesboys and gaygirls and all of that, but what is it exactly? like how does it work? or is that weird to ask? i'm trying figuring myself out but a lot of stuff i've seen doesn't exactly... explain it (or explain it well), and while i guess i do get why, it's just kinda hard to understand it myself for my own identity
also, probably a question you get a lot in a hating way, but isn't the definition of lesbian nonman loving nonman? so then how does lesboy work? like is it for people with more complicated gender identites, like fluctuating genders and bigender? just genuinly confused, my apologies...
sorry for not getting to this sooner- been busier lately and didn't have the time to collect everything I needed to respond!
About what it exactly means to be a lesboy or a gaygirl ('turigirl' is the more common term, 'turi' meaning turian, another word for gay attraction to men. so I'll be referring to it as that from now on), there isn't exactly....one right way to call yourself such. it really depends on the person, but I can give you a basic definition and a list of common reasons someone may call themselves such
im gonna put a read more because this ended up being super long so sorry
lesboy is a term for any lesbian who may have a connection to manhood and/or masculinity. turigirl is just the opposite of that, a gay person (mlm/nblm) who may have a connection to womanhood and/or femininity. common reasons I've seen are:
being multigender or genderfluid
being cusper/in between trans and cis gnc (in between trans man and cis gnc woman, in between trans woman and cis gnc man)
being a system who uses lesboy/turigirl as a collective identity or when identities blur together
a person who uses man/boy or woman/girl as a means of masculine or feminine gender expression but not actually identifying as such
being a trans man/ftm or a trans woman/mtf who still identifies as lesbian or gay for personal reasons
those are far from all the reasons, everyone has their own unique experiences, but the gist is these people may have some sort of connection to manhood/womanhood while still having a queer attraction. personally, I'm multigender, genderfluid, and transmasc. lesboy I find is a nice label to express being both my bigender self and being a lesbian, as it forces people to acknowledge both without separating the two. it's cute and makes me feel validated!
as for "nonman attracted to nonmen" definition of lesbian......it has its issues. it's received criticism all around from all sorts of lesbians in the community. this definition is very new - it emerged only in the recent years, and someone on twitter had date searched it and found it didn't even really exist before 2019. and having that as the one and only official definition that every lesbian has to abide by, when lesbian is a centuries old word with so much history behind it, is a bit ignorant. people who are multiple genders or ftm or bi being lesbian is not even remotely new, going back decades upon decades, and it never stopped existing too. It's a bit weird to have a whole new definition that doesn't include all sorts of lesbians that have been here for so long and just tell them they're not welcomed anymore, right?
that's not even close to the only issue there is with it. it's been disliked for centering lack of attraction to men, or defining lesbian in relation to men, rather than who we're actually attracted to. putting nonbinary people in a new binary of either being "men or nonmen," which not all feel comfortable putting themselves into. especially when considering a definition of gay being "nonwomen attracted to nonwomen," man-woman bigender people are simultaneously excluded from being both lesbian or gay. It inherently overlaps with mspec identity ("attraction to nonmen, which is more than one gender" and "any orientation that involves attraction to more than one gender" kinda obviously overlap), despite people insisting that a lesbian can never be mspec. people have found multiple loopholes in it, (which I can elaborate on if someone wants me to, for the sake of trying to make this as short as possible), and lastly, and term "nonman" (and nonwoman) were found to have existed before to describe the degendering of black people in society. this isn't the only source I've seen for this, but sadly I can't exactly find it (or find it without going back to that hellsite called twitter and I'm not doing that to myself)
oh and as the link points out, defining lesbian by these words also ends up excluding a lot of two-spirit people from ever identifying as lesbian, myself included. which is also really racist. I don't know how you're gonna end up excluding a whole cultural gender that's common for indigenous americans to describe themselves with and try to prove it somehow isn't racist, to be honest
and lastly, some surveys/polls have shown that the definition isn't the most widely accepted by lesbians as people make it out to be. there's this simple poll that someone posted asking how lesbians felt about the definition that received 1,529 responses, and 61.1% of voters said they disliked it. comments gave lots of reasons I've stated already. there was another survey put out that received 211 responses that for any lesbian who had a genderqueer or unique relationship with gender, and one of the questions asking opinions on the "nonmen loving nonmen" as a definition. the average among the group was slightly negative (average 2.838), and reported that the group who tended to feel the most positively about it didn't consider themselves to be trans, with the other positive leaning group considered themselves to be somewhat cis. the group that felt the most negatively sometimes considered themselves to be trans. and of the multigender participants, the average opinion was 2.255 (more negative than the overall average). When concluding, the original poster stated, "When divided by gender, the only groups to feel positive about this definition were "not trans" and "somewhat cis" participants. Multigender participants felt especially negative about this definition"
all of this shows that this definition isn't nearly the best for everyone who considers themselves a lesbian. I know it's been a way to include nonbinary people who are lesbian in it's definition, but I think it really misunderstands why nonbinary people are included in lesbianism in the first place, and just assumes that all nonbinary people aren't men and fails to recognize that multigender/genderfluid people are nonbinary too. and it's not like lesbian has to only have on definition- it can definitely have multiple and depend on each person's experience with it. if someone personally defines them being lesbian around being a nonman attracted to nonmen, and takes pride in not being attracted to men, that's totally fine. what becomes a problem is forcing all lesbians to define themselves like this and make it the standard, or else they're "not real lesbians." it is ahistorical and ignorant to require this or else you'll strip them of their lesbian status, and is really at the end of the day, lesbophobic. especially as a requirement that primarily exists in online spaces. im sure the lesbian who is not at all connected to these circles doesn't particularly care about strict requirements or whether someone is a "nonman" or not. in conclusion, it is not the best nor most accepted definition of lesbian, and deciding which lesbians are valid or not based solely on that definition is pretty exclusionary and ends up policing a lot of lesbians, myself included
#lesboy#turigirl#lesbian#gay#multigender#genderfluid#mspec lesbian#asks#tw exclusionism#tw queerphobia#lesbophobia#I can definitely elaborate on some points if asked#I do have some thoughts I've never shared before
82 notes
·
View notes
Text
In which the Tsarista wants Friends And Furina is the Unfortunate Target
A silly genshin au
So i was thinking, u know how every archon has nothing but respect for Furnia?
What if the Tsarista did too? After all, the tsarista wants to defy the heavens, ancthe only person to get away with that and live (that we know of) is Furina.
And its so hard to find archons to hang out with. She’s still not talking to Venti. Morax has to many shady contracts with celestia, Nahida is a child by archon standards, Ei scares her, and frankly the less said about Murata the better.
So when word gets to her through whatever highspeed knowledge that the archons a seem to have about what Focolors and Furina did, she instantly wants to bring her in as an ally.
But alas! Arrlecino has made an absolutely terrible impression on Furina! So much so that Furina refused to meet her without othwr parties present!
This is a huge failure!
She proceeds to tell Arrlecino that while she’s not in trouble, as she did bring back the gnosis, couldn’t she have been a little nicer?
Just look at Childe! He managed to make a good impression on Morax, and he didn’t even realize it was Morax he was hanging out with!
They still get drinks somwtimes!
If Childe can befriend a god by accident, surely Arrlecino could at least mend bridges with Furina? Furina would be sooo useful after all.
Arrlecino, who has jetted off after getting the gnosis with a sick Childe and most certainly doesn’t have connection to whatever instant gossip communication that the Tsarista has, is very confused
She’s still under the impression that Furina was a cursed human, archon impersonator, and all around waste of space.
Now her boss and archon she respects is passive agressively trying to get her to introduce her to Furina and mad she’s not in her good books?
WHY????
Her general attitude is to point agressively at Furina eating her cake and going “This is the ONE u want? THIS one?”
Tsarista, sighing dramatically, “She’s perfect”
But Arrlecino is a harbringer, and what her archon wants, goes. So she goes back to fontain and tries to arrange a meetinf with Furina
This is of course, completely rejected, and accompanied by a sternly worded letter from Neuvillette saying that Furina is retired and not to bother her anymore.
Arrlecino tries to just go directly to Furina, but is chased away by some very agressive melusines. Arrlecino didn’t even know Melusines could be agressive
At this point, Arrlecino is getting annoyed. Did all their personal meetings mean nothing to Furina? She spent so much time and money on her favorite cakes!
Sure she tried to kill her, but that was one time! She should be over it by now!
But she hasn’t lost her head yet. It’s tiem to use her trump card. The magic siblings!
Lyney is a bit dubious on their new mission: “make nice to furina at all costs.” After all, their last two interactions with with her were Furina putting lyney on trial, and lyney and the gang putting her on trial. Not exactly easy to bounce back from.
But orders are orders, so they give it a shot.
They start with trying to ask Furina for help on stage management, give her invitations to their shows, etc.
Shared interests are important after all.
Bur Furina is not biting. She’s not good at magic she points out, so she won’t be much help to them and their better off seeking others to aid them.
She does go to their performance, but spends the entire time sandwiched between Navia and Clorinde. When lyney and lynette try to approach her, navia drags them into conversation instead as Clorinde escorts Furina out.
So that’s a no go.
Lynette then decides to take the more direct route, of breaking into Furina’s apartment to reach her. This goes understandably terribly, as Furina does not take well to a cloaked figure standing over her bed, saying “the Tsarista wants to talk to you”
She sends her water familiars to chase lynette away.
At this point Furina is getting very paranoid and the magic siblings are at the end of their rope. They break out their last hope: Freminet.
Sure he’s not the most social, but he’s by far the most adorable (in the twins opinion) and definitely nonthreatening.
Freminet’s turn goes as thus: Furina is sitting on a bench with her water familiars playing around her
Freminet sits next to her on the bench with Pers. He doesn’t look at Furina, instead staring at his feet.
Pers goes over to the water familiars and they start playing together. Furina and Freminet watch
Finally Freminet blurts out. “The Tsarista thinks your cool and wants to be your friend.”
Furina is startled, then switches into celebrity mode. Freminet doesn’t seem to mean any harm, but she doesn’t want to agree. So she sets an impossible task. She informs Freminet that she is a very popular person and if the tsarista wants to see her, she must come in person to Fontaine instead of sending minions.
Freminet nods and thanks her, saying he’ll pass on the message. He tells her Pers had a good time, and Furina smiles, certain that she’s handled the situation perfectly.
Exactly one week later, there’s a knock on her door. Furina opens it to see thr Tsarista dressed like a tourist with a bag of luggage. She informs Furina they are having a “girls” week.
Next thing Furina knows she and thr tsarista are sitting at a super fancy cake shop where the tsarista is piling Furina with all her favorite cakes with a beaming smile on her face.
As she resigns herself to her fate of lots of cake and spa activites with Tevats number one most controversial archon. Furina realizes she now knows where the Fatui get their crazy from
The end
#genshin impact#genshin impact au#furina#tsarista#arrlecino#arrlechino#why does her name has an h in it?#genshin lyney#lynette#freminet#pers did all the work#tsarista wants friends au#don’t take this too seriously
126 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tenzo is a replacement for Obito.
From Obito's point of view.
contents | introduction · the essence · similar story: Jinx and Caitlin
[ I mention the similarity with Arcane here, but if you haven't watched it, you can just not read this part, the essence won't change much. ]
here's the thing: It's a headcanon, and it is simple in formulation, but a bit complex in explanation of the certain image. below I discuss the reasons for some of Obito's reactions during the war, and his perception in general.
if Kakashi and Obito had somehow happened to be in the same place once during the ANBU period, or if Obito had known about the members of Kakashi's team, he would be jealous of Kakashi for Tenzo.
not romantically jealous (it's up to you though), rather painfully possessive, with resentment and anger. and not in a vivid way. it's more of a gnashing feeling inside, clogged enough not to recognize it, but not weak enough that it doesn't affect anything at all. why would that even be? their kekkei-genkai, appearance and bond with Kakashi.
CH 317 on the left; CH 605 on the right.
Tenzo's mokuton is smooth, malleable, these are neat bars of wood, and Tenzo has no difficulty making large houses or complex thin figures out of them, such as keys or eyes (ANBU arc in anime) or cute figures (almost any scene where Yamato uses kekkei-genkai).
Obito's mokuton is broken and sharp, it's branches with thorns, which rather embody his frustration, instability and anguish. such wood is easy to use to injure, kill, block the way, isolate yourself from others, but not to build anything out of it. this can not protect gently (to make a shelter or a useful object), this mokuton can only attack. the detail parallels very well with the personalities of both characters and their connection with Kakashi, with how Obito perceives it.
no matter what Obito says, he's a good liar. the old bonds he had in his "past" life remain important to him. his anger at Kakashi in the war, among other practical reasons, is due to the fact that Kakashi dared to acquire new connections that are more important to him than that bond with Obito. at least that's why, among other things, Kakashi doesn't go over to his side (while Obito hoped he would, I'll make a post about it one day). and the connections Kakashi has, subconsciously or not, are perceived by Obito as annoying, as a disregard for everything they've been through together, for everything Obito went through. this is a resentment that provokes anger, the root of which is as follows: "you should not have new connections, you should suffer, because I am lonely and I suffer for you" (for others in general, but this one is the agenda).
his anger is sometimes about "I did so much for you, I gave you the most valuable things I had (life, strength, the ability to care for others), and you ruined everything, well, maybe not you, but I thought it was you at first... and now you, bastard, are trying to stop me?" but not about that today.
and that's why not only Tenzo would annoy Obito, but anyone else who's close to Kakashi. the man consistently selected the people most similar to his past experience, and here they are all around him. then Minato appears in the war. so why am I talking specifically about Tenzo, whom Obito may never have seen?
Tenzo's kekkei-genkai makes everything more confusing. This becomes something personal, which Obito perceives in the way described above. That's just an interesting parallel between these two.
And that's not to mention Tenzo's appearance. He is in some ways still looks like Obito, at least because of the silhouette, hairstyle, etc.
And what this can be compared to? Jinx and Caitlin from Arcane.
Arcane EP 7, "the boy saviour"
Of Course Jinx experiences it much vividly, it's her canon event. for her this storyline is more important than something like this for Obito, but the essence is the same. It is a feeling of betrayal from a person dear to you, who showed with all his appearance that he/she would be on your side until the very end. And it feels like you've been replaced by someone who's really more comfortable, or better at something, or more socially approved. And you're just a lonely sick weirdo.
It is not surprising that both Jinx and Obito treat Vi's/Kakashi's kind words or regrets as something annoying - subconsciously, among other things, they can see it as a mockery. They just don't really believe it.
so here it is. just the way I see all of this.
what is the role of this hc? to show the subconscious in Obito, which is constantly manifested in war through his action or inaction, through his words, through the way he manipulates, through illusions that he shows or sees himself. I like that about him. I like his big vulnerable uchiha heart.
[ I should have written some other post about Obito first, otherwise you will now decide that this is the only way I see him... ]
#obito uchiha#yamato tenzo#obito x kakashi#kakashi x obito#naruto#naruto shippuden#arcane#kakaobi#obikaka
81 notes
·
View notes
Text
stargirl interlude - sodo x reader
masterlist.
a/n: *cracks knuckles* alright first fic of the new year lets go!!! also li hing mui is dried plum and they make a powder which is put on almost every dessert/candy in hawaii! it's delicious and everyone should try it because y'all are missing out (ok maybe i wanted to share a bit of culture with u guys)
warnings/things to note: afab reader but no pronouns used, sodo says the L word (no not leprosy), talk about pregnancy (nothing happens though), he's a big goofball and doesn't understand humans' societal dating rules, slightly suggestive (he's getting baby fever due to his heat cycle approaching)
enjoy <3
word count: 944
~
Sodo stared at you as you entered his room in the middle of the night, holding a bag. "I come bearing gifts!" you said triumphantly, causing him to crack a small smile.
"What's that?" he asked, eyeing the contents of the bag.
"Li hing gummy worms! You'll like it, it's tangy." you smile, tossing him the bag.
He caught the bag of gummy worms in one hand, his eyes narrowing to slits as he inspected the packaging before taking a worm out and sniffing it before nibbling on it. His eyes widened and it wasn't long until he shoved the rest of the candy into his mouth. "You're correct."
"You're welcome, ya goofball." you smiled, sitting next to him and holding out your palm. "May I have one?"
He nodded, tail swishing in satisfaction as he dug into the bag, dropping a red and blue worm into your palm.
"Wow, so generous," you joked sarcastically. "But thank you."
You popped the sweet candy into your mouth, mouth instantly watering as the li hing powder coated your tongue.
Sodo continued devouring a few more gummies before he turned to you with a crooked smile. "I have a question."
"Yeah? What's up?"
His smile broadened as he watched you finished eating your gummy worm. "Marry me."
You blinked. "I- what?"
He didn't hesitate as he got down onto one knee and took out a black ring box. "Marry me." he repeated.
"Er... no thank you?" you answered hesitantly, looking puzzled. "What are... you doing?"
He didn't seem offended by your answer as he sat back on the couch next to you. "You don't want to marry me?" he asked, tilting his head to the side in curiosity.
"Um, honey, we're not even dating."
His brows furrowed as he thought for a moment, nodding. "So... we're going to date first? When can we start? Now?"
His innocence caused you to laugh, shaking your head. "Oh, no, honey, that's not how this works."
He pouted but couldn't hold back a smile as he saw you laughing. "Then when do we start?"
You stared at him, letting out a chuckle as you shook your head. "Well, normally... someone asks the person they like to go somewhere together. Like dinner at a restaurant, coffee, even the fair."
Sodo's ghoulish tail started to wrap around your leg, pinning it to the seat. "So, you're saying I should ask you out on a date? Okay!"
"W-Wha- slow down!" you laughed, nudging his tail off your leg.
He moved his tail out of the way but was soon replaced by his hand as he pulled you close to him. "So. Date, now. We go, yes?"
"No, not now! Sodo, I swear on everything unholy, it's 3am! And get your paw off my leg." you tugged at his loose sleeve, lifting his arm away.
He frowned, slowly letting go of you. "But... but I love you." he whined.
That statement caught you off-guard, feeling your cheeks turn pink. "Er... S-Sodo, you, uh... you don't say that right away."
He shrugged. "I didn't know the exact rules."
He went silent for a moment, tapping his foot as he thought. After a moment, he figured it out, eyes lighting up. "So I should ask you out on a date, we go to dinner and then I say 'I love you'?"
You giggled at his silliness. "No, we're supposed to talk about ourselves at dinner, see if we're compatible for each other. That word doesn't come until later."
"Like... after we've kissed a few times and we both know each other's secret weaknesses?" He asked, confused.
"I... sure."
"Okay. So after that, I ask you to marry me again?"
"Sodo, hon. Listen." You grabbed his face gently. "Marriage doesn't happen that quick. It takes at least a year of dating."
His eyes flickered with confusion but nodded. "Okay, well... I'll ask you to marry me after our first date then. Okay?"
"Sodo. You can marry me later. After about, hm, one hundred dates and a few years." You said firmly.
"Ohh, so first date, then we ask to be engaged." His tail wagged slightly, his smile widening. "Is that right?"
"Ah, no." You shook your head. "Sodo, marriage doesn't come that quickly unless you want people to think you got me pregnant."
Sodo tilted his head, one of his eyebrows cocking upwards as a devious smile hint at his lips. "Is that a challenge, then?"
Your eyes widened and you gasped, lightly hitting his harm.
"Is that a yes, my dear?" his smile widened, moving his tail to snake around your waist.
"Sodo, I'm not having kids!"
"But I want some," he pleaded, giving you puppy-dog eyes. "Please?"
"I don't think a half-ghoul child is a good thing," you shook your head.
"Why not? Don't you want a little me running around to call your own?" He leaned closer, gently touching your cheek with his finger. "Our baby," he whispered.
What was wrong with him? He was never like this. Your eyes widened as you realized-- he was nearing his heat cycle.
"Does someone have baby fever? Is it because your heat should be coming soon?"
He grunted, leaning in and sniffing your neck. "Soon enough..."
You rolled your eyes. Great, now he was being clingy. You put your hands on his shoulders, gently pushing him back. "Alright, that's enough."
"But you look so tasty... please... you smell delicious." he whined.
"I'm gonna lock you in my closet for two weeks again if you don't behave." you warned, which did the trick as he shot back up and cuddled a pillow instead, letting out a small hiss.
#the band ghost#fluff#ghost#ghost band#ghost bc#gender neutral reader#ghost the band#sodomizer ghoul#sodomizer#nameless ghoul smut#sodo ghost#sodo ghoul#dewdrop ghost#ghost ghouls#fire ghoul#dewdrop x reader#dew ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#dewdrop#ghouls#sodo#nameless ghoul#sodo x reader#nameless ghoul x reader#the nameless ghouls#nameless ghouls#nameless ghouls x reader#cw suggestive#also i love li hing gummy worms y'all need to try them#hawaii moment
107 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
profitwarning
ProfitWarning
rayasroom
raya...꩜
suomiseb57
Caught in the Middle
03jjfn
03jjfn
blue-and-gilt
Blue & Gilt