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yoon-kooks · 1 year

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the airdrop incident | myg

🗿pairing: yoongi x reader

🗿genre: fluff, neighbor!au, f2l, childhood friends, best friend's brother

🗿summary: You accidentally AirDrop a racy photo of yourself in strappy lingerie to your hot and arrogant neighbor Min Yoongi.

🗿word count: 1k

a/n: yes this is for yoongi's bday and yes im 471298 years late🥹

An onlooker might be wondering why you’re standing outside your neighbor’s door at ass o’clock in nothing but an oversized tee, but the answer is simple. Mistakes were made. You’re an idiot.

But then he has the audacity to answer the door. “He” as in Min Yoongi, your childhood friend slash nemesis, the older brother of your best friend, or, in the simplest terms, your hot neighbor.

“Yes?” he raises a brow, staring at the way you’re shivering outside his door, the way your perky nipples are most definitely poking through your shirt. You’re sure he sees it all. But given the fact that he’s also seen you practically naked, you don’t even bother covering up. What’s the point?

“Did you, by chance, get an AirDrop like five minutes ago?” you get straight to the point. It’s fucking freezing, after all.

“Depends,” he hums, eyes still very much on your chest. You’re pretty sure he’s dating that pretty brunette you’ve seen sneaking in and out of his house lately, so why’s he looking at you like that? “What was the AirDrop?”

“A picture of me,” you mumble. It was freezing a minute ago, but now your face feels hot. That’s weird.

“Hmm, not sure if the one I’m thinking of is you or not.” The bastard puts on his most exaggerated thinking face—basically the thinking emoji with the hand on his chin. “What were you wearing?”

“Nothing!” you squeak at him. Both of you know no one fucking uses AirDrop except old people. He’s obviously playing dumb and knows what’s going on. He just wants to hear it from your mouth to make his ego bigger than it already is. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Pretty sure you were wearing something…” he furrows his brow, unlocking his phone to “confirm” what he saw. Like your favorite villain Swiper the Fox, you snatch the phone out of his hand. (He actually just hands it to you, but you like the Dora reference.) “Ah, yes. Black strappy lingerie, right? I didn’t know you were like that, Y/N.”

“Fuck you,” you hiss as you search for the pic in question. AirDrop must have its own stupid section on the phone because you can’t find it anywhere.

“Relax, I already deleted it,” he chuckles. You’re not falling for it. Surely he’s already leaked the photo on OnlyFans. You don’t have a whole lot of faith in Min Yoongi. He’s never been The Nice Guy. “Who were you trying to send it to?”

“None of your business.” He has a girlfriend, after all. Why should he care about who you’re sending those kinds of pics to?

“My sister?”

“Fine. Yes, her.”

“You’re sneaking around sending nudes to my sister? On AirDrop?” he narrows his eyes. Why does he seem more disgusted at the AirDrop part? You’d laugh if you weren’t so stressed. “She’s in a very committed relationship, you know.”

“I’m aware.” You don’t know what’s worse—him thinking you’re hitting on his sister aka your best friend, or admitting the pic was from a photoshoot for your new job. There are no winners here. Might as well come clean. “She requested the pic so she could show support for her lingerie model best friend.”

“My little Y/N grew up and became a lingerie model?” He tilts his head, intrigued. He might’ve deleted the pic from his phone, but you bet the image is still ingrained in that fuckboy head of his. You wonder how his girlfriend feels about him thinking about other girls in that context. You’d feel shitty. “In that case, I’d also like to show support. Mind if you send the pic ag—”

You cut him off with a growl.

“I kid, I kid.” He waves his hands so you don’t pounce on him. But then something occurs to him. “Wait, so AirDropping it to me wasn’t ‘an accident’?” he asks with air quotes.

“No, it was a real accident, Yoongi,” you scoff. You can’t believe he thought you’d intentionally sent that pic to him. He’s so full of himself.

“Well that’s no fun.”

“Elaborate.”

“It would’ve been kinda cute if you did it to get my attention,” he shrugs. “Just like when we were younger. Remember how you’d always tug on my arm and pout until I acknowledged you?”

“No, but it’s kinda weird that you remember it.” You finally cross your arms in front of your chest. “It’s also kinda weird that you want my attention when that’s what your girlfriend is there for.”

“It’s kinda weird that you keep up with my love life and know I have a girlfriend,” he fires back at you. “I’m breaking up with her, by the way. Just in case you wanted to know.”

You pause the petty war for a second. Min Yoongi is breaking up with his girlfriend because you accidentally sent him one (1) risqué pic of yourself? To be fair, you do look pretty hot in that photo. But still! You’ve known the guy your entire life, and all it’s ever amounted to was banter with a hint of feelings on your end. You’d always assumed Yoongi thought of you as nothing more than his little sister’s friend. Surely he’s just toying with you right now. Because that’s what fuckboys do.

That’s what Min Yoongis do.

“Good to know,” you nod, the cold breeze coming back. You better leave now before you do something stupid again. Stupid AirDrop. “Well, I’m gonna go now. It’s fucking cold.”

You drop his phone into his palm, your fingers grazing his in the process. They’re so warm. But your fluffy blanket is warmer. And it’d never betray you.

“Thanks for only being a slight dick about the pic,” you say, scurrying off to your doorstep.

“Anytime,” he smirks. Asshole. “I’ll AirDrop you later.”

“I don’t want your dick pics, sir.”

You hear his laugh before closing the door.

A minute later, you get an AirDrop of what you hope is not in fact a dick pic. You accept it immediately.

It’s a blurry selfie of him on his bed, flipping you off with an emphasis on how much extra mattress space he has. That has to be the quickest breakup of all time. They don’t call him a fuckboy for nothing. You shouldn't feel this tempted.

He accompanies the pic with one simple text:

Yoongi🗿 [2:03AM] “Your loss”

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts imagines #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #yoongi fluff #bts f2l #suga fanfic #suga x reader

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mage-ical-character-person · 3 months

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You know I was wondering what the heck the Vees thought they were talking about when they mention a power vacuum in their bit of the song in The Show Must Go On. Like what are these idiots hoping to accomplish?

and I just now realized.

They say “Overlords hanging by a thread”. “Overlords” plural. Which is weird, because that would mean they’re not just talking about Alastor, but the battle was entirely focused on the hotel.

The only other Overlords even slightly involved are Rosie and Carmilla. So let’s take a look at that for a second! Both of them put a lot of resources into the battle, even if they weren’t present for it themselves.

First of all: Rosie

Rosie’s entire population was sent to the battle. When she’s talking to Charlie before Charlie’s first attempt at her speech, Rosie says

“I can’t exactly command all of Cannibal Town to follow someone else into battle”

“This group sticks together, so in order to convince any of them, you’ll need to convince all of them”

So it seems pretty clearly implied that all of Rosie’s Cannibals were sent into battle. We know that some of them perished, and more were probably injured, which would probably leave Rosie at least a little vulnerable. We don’t know exactly how many Cannibals were lost, and saying she’s “hanging by a thread” seems like a stretch, but the event likely did set her back, and her Cannibals will need time to recover.

I do also feel like the fact that they all ate angel meat will have some sort of effect. Not sure what kind, but angel blood glows and it seems like there would be some weird properties there. Not sure if it’s good or bad.

Either way, Rosie loosing some of her Cannibals would leave her more vulnerable than usual after the battle, even if only slightly. And her association with Alastor means Vox probably has beef with her, so it makes some sense for the Vees to see this as an opening, especially coupled with Alastor being injured and, at the time, missing. He wouldn’t be able to provide Rosie with much backup in that state. (Alastor’s back now and pretending to be fine but I doubt that.) Having both of them in a weakened state at the same time is probably unheard of.

And with how weird Vox is about Alastor, targeting Rosie to mess with him is something I could see happening. I don’t know if that would go well for the Vees, because we haven’t seen what Rosie is capable of, and we haven’t seen much of what Vox is really capable of when facing off against anyone other than Alastor, who has a talent for making Vox act stupider than usual.

Then we have Carmilla, and her case is very interesting, because while she only provided weapons for the battle, that’s still a big investment of resources. Angelic steel is very, very hard to come by in hell, and she provided quite a lot of weapons. While she’ll probably get a good number of them back, there’s a bigger issue here.

Carmilla’s business and by extension her status as an Overlord relies on selling weapons made with angelic steel. Carmilla gets angelic steel from weapons left behind during exterminations.

and uh

Yeah I’m not sure how that’s gonna go for her. Cause it seems like her supply of the materials she needs to stay in her position of power just got cut off completely. Especially since Heaven now knows that leaving behind weapons is what provides the only method of killing angels. After Adam’s death I really don’t think they’re making that mistake again.

So Carmilla seems to be on a track that leads to her power dwindling as she runs out of resources. Sure, she can just work in dealing normal weapons with high craftsmanship, but without her claim to fame of selling weapons that can permanently kill, she will lose a lot of power and influence.

I’m sure Velvette will enjoy that.

Overall, though, while I still think the Vees are dumb and impulsive and biting off more than they can chew… their part of the Finale song makes just a little more sense to me now. Three Overlords in weakened states might leave them some sort of opening.

They really shouldn’t mess with Alastor, though, because not only does Vox lose all logical thought around him, but Charlie considers Alastor a friend by this point. And she is the Princess of Hell, and very protective of her friends. Though she probably wouldn’t hurt the Vees unless she absolutely had to. She’s definitely not a fighter except in extreme circumstances. Katie Killjoy notwithstanding.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rosie #carmilla carmine #the vees

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 10 months

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You're waiting for a train...(2)

To Build Cathedrals

Robert Fischer x reader, Arthur x reader (if you squint)

description - You leave your dad to go look for a new architect as you and Arthur set up the workspace. But your mind is plagued with dreams of its own.

word count - 2.7k (ooo we're getting bigger)

warnings - allusions to sexual assault, mentions of death, allusion to child abuse

a/n - This chapter looks more into how y/n's mind is shaped much like her father's and we also see a hint of Arthur and y/n's relationship (and yes it is weird that she sees him as her uncle). I've realised this is gonna be a slow burn for Robert x reader because of the chronology of the inception plot I'm trying to follow; I promise it'll be worth it!

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Dad and I stood as statues outside the university. It all felt so familiar from my youth but when I walked through, I felt as absent as a stranger.

“He’ll want to see you.”

“I’ll leave the conversation to you. He doesn’t want to see me.”

“That’s not true.”

“I know what he thinks of me. You didn’t have a choice, I did. In his eyes, I chose wrong.”

Dad let his arm rest on my shoulder in a silent act of comfort. I sucked back the tears, so he thought I was okay. The reality was I wanted nothing more than to run in there and jump into my grandads arms. But I couldn’t, in good fait,h knowing he thought of me as the girl who abandoned her siblings for no life at all.

I wiped away a rogue tear.

“Anyways, Arthur needs me to help him set up. But I’ll be waiting at the warehouse, okay. And I promise I won’t leave to go anywhere without Arthur.” I raised my hand to cup his cheek, so he felt the sincerity of my words. I went to leave my father to his search.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find someone as good as you were.”

Without turning back, I shouted. “Find someone better!”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Cobb’s pov*

“You never did like your office.” Dad raised his head surprised to hear my voice, even more shocked to see my body.

“No space to think in that broom cupboard.” He quipped. “Is it safe for you to be here? Where’s y/n?”

“Extradition between France and the USA is a bureaucratic nightmare. Y/n is fine, she’s with Arthur.”

“I think they might find a way to make it work in your case.”

I made my way down and sat the meek gesture of toys on his desk.

“Look, y/n bought these, she thought the kids would like them. Saw them in Amsterdam.”

“It’s gonna take more than the occasional stuffed animal to remind those kids that they still have a father…and a sister. Y/n knows that.”

“She’s trying her best. She wants to make the best out of the situation she’s in.”

“The situation you put her in.” His voice became stern, and I cowered like a small boy.

“It was her choice. She said that she couldn’t let me go just like that.”

“She was your child; you shouldn’t have let her have the choice in the first place. The choice was life or death and you let her choose death just so you could imagine you still had a family and that it all hadn’t crumbled before you.”

“Yes. I am being selfish because I like that she’s still with me. I like having her here because without her I couldn’t cope.”

“You let her follow you into this life and it seems she suffers the consequences the most.”

“She told you?”

“She told grandma.”

“What the projections or the subjects do is unpredictable. Sometimes they respond to the presence put in front of them, in her case, a beautiful young girl.”

He looks down, ashamed of what he’s hearing.

“Look I’m just doing what I know. I’m doing what you taught me.”

“I never taught you to be a thief.”

“No, you taught me to navigate people’s minds. But after what happened, there weren’t a whole lot of legitimate ways to do that.”

He suddenly felt the meaning of my visit and retreated back into his chair. He punctuated the silence.

“What are you doing here, Dom?” I paused, wondering how to phrase this without inviting a lot of questions.

“I think we found a way home. It’s a job for some very very powerful people. People who I believe can fix my charges permanently. But I need your help.”

“You’re here to corrupt one of my best and brightest.” He taunted me by brandishing the end of his pen.

“You know what I’m offering, you have to let them decide for themselves.”

“Money.”

“Not just money. You remember, the chance to build cathedrals, entire cities, things that never existed. Things that couldn’t exist in the real world.”

“So, you want me to let someone else, follow you into your fantasy.”

“They won’t actually come into the dream. They just design the levels and teach them to the dreamers.”

“Design it yourself.”

“Mal won’t let me.” I saw his face droop at the mention of her. Already sighing at the sight of my delusion.

“What about y/n, she was always better than you were anyway.”

“She refuses. She’ll help with a maze or a paradox occasionally when she gets bored of our architects incompetence, but she won’t build herself anymore. I don’t know why. She won’t tell me.” He sat forward in his chair. Eyes pleading with me to bring y/n home.

“Come back to reality. Please.”

“Those kids are waiting for their father and sister to come home. That’s their reality. This job-this last job- that’s how we get there. I would not be standing here if I knew another way. I need an architect who is as good as I was.”

“I’ve got someone better.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“Ariadne?” A perky petite girl runs to meet Miles’ inviting hand. “I’d like you to meet Mr Cobb.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

“If you have a few moments, Mr Cobb has a job offer he’d like to discuss with you.”

“A work placement?”

“Not exactly.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

I made it to the warehouse and walked in to see Arthur fiddling with different pieces of equipment.

“You look funny handling tech equipment in that suit.” I loudly teased to get his attention.

He turned towards me with a smile. “Thought you’d be with Cobb and the new recruit.”

“He can do it without me; besides I didn’t fancy the third degree from grandad.”

“He’s just protective. This job isn’t exactly made for you.”

“What? You don’t think I can handle myself?”

“Oh, don’t worry I know you can. The scar on my eye proves it.” We laughed together in a way we hadn’t done in a while. I’d always found comfort around Arthur. When I first left with my dad, I was young and innocent. I had no idea what I’d signed up for. So, once we started working with Arthur I began to loosen up a little as I felt I had someone I could truly trust. Yes, there were people like Eames who came around for the odd job and who I could rely on on the mission. But Arthur was different. I trusted him in a way that encapsulated my whole heart.

We began to unpack the equipment, preparing for when dad would be back to introduce the new recruit to dream-walking. I had just found some old deck chairs stuffed at the back that I dragged to the centre. They made a horrible squeak as the metal scraped on concrete.

“Are you okay?” Arthur pondered.

“Yeah why?”

“Just after Nash and that last job, I worried you would shut down.”

“This could be Dad’s chance to clear his name, I got no time to shut down.” I put on a confidence and winked his way before punching his arm as I passed for good measure.

“Anyways,” I spoke facing the window. “It’s not like I’ve not dealt with that before. It’s old news.”

“I know.” Arthur said solemnly, refusing to look my way. “But you shouldn’t.”

“Well, it happened, it happens, and it’s going to happen again.” I giggled through my tear-filled eyes. I felt Arthur’s presence behind me, bringing me into the lightest hug.

“You know I’m here for you. And if you don’t want to tell your dad when it happens, that’s fine but promise you’ll at least tell me. You know I love giving a guy a good punch, especially on your behalf.”

I turned around in his arms and found our noses almost touching.

“Thank you, Arthur. My knight in shining armour.” I could see the muscles in his neck strain as he very gently leaned in. I copied and moved until our lips softly grazed.

*SCREEEEECH*

We jumped back from each other, in a spook.

“That’ll be them I guess.” I quickly fled the scene and brushed my fingers against my lips. That was about to happen, wasn’t it?

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Ariadne gasped as she awoke. Her eyes were flamed, and her pupils darted around the room, trying to make sense of it all. The music bubbled throughout the room adding a flare of theatrics to the situation. This was her second time under, so I assumed her jerk meant she hadn’t woken up in the most pleasant way.

“You’re okay, you’re okay.” Arthur quickly reassured her. Calming her down through gentle caresses.

“Why didn’t I wake up?”

I answered whilst making sure Dad was okay. “Because there was still time on the clock, and you can’t wake up from a dream unless you die.”

“She’ll need a totem.” Dad announced, already leaving the room.

“Dad give her a minute, geez.”

“What? Dad? Wait what?” Ariadne was shaken and looked between Cobb, and I confused.

“A totem it’s a small, personal-“

“That’s some subconscious you’ve got on you, Cobb! She’s a real charmer.”

“Ah I see you met my mom.”

“She’s, his wife?” She asked breathlessly, looking up at me. I nodded sadly.

“So, a totem, you need a small object, potentially heavy, something you can have on you all the time.” Ariadne covered her eyes to mentally acknowledge what she had just been through. I knew none of Arthur’s words were registering. It was too soon. She needed to go away so she can see how addicting it feels. I remembered my first time. I was so scared, but it was a delicious fear. “Something that no one else knows.”

“Like a coin?”

“No, it needs to be more unique than that. Like this is a loaded die,” Arthur brought out his totem, similar to mine. “I can’t let you touch it, see that would defeat the purpose. Only I know the balance and the weight of this loaded die. That way when you look at your totem, you know that you’re not in someone else’s dream.” I stuck my hand in my pocket to feel my own. It was a picture of me, James, and Philippa but it has a small mistake on it. In the picture I have braces, when in reality I’ve never worn them.

I left Arthur and Ariadne to talk and went to check on my dad. He had the spinning top again. We both watched it spin out, helpless to do anything else. When it fell, he loudly exhaled. I knew he had to do it, I just didn’t know why.

We both re-joined Arthur to find that the girl had left. It was probably all too much for such little time. And any run in with Mal’s projection would make anyone uneasy.

“She’ll be back. I’ve never seen anyone pick it up that quickly before.”

“I’ll try not to be offended.” I said with a smirk. Dad kissed my forehead. “Of course, except you, sweetie.”

“Reality’s not gonna be enough for her now, I remember the feeling.”

“When she comes back, you’re gonna have her building mazes.”

“Where are you gonna be?”

“I gotta go visit Eames.” I quietly clapped and celebrated in the corner. Eames was my favourite person to work with and we’ve always had a great partnership since our first time when I was only 15. He was the one who taught me impersonation and forgery, much to my dad’s admiration. If Arthur was like my uncle, then Eames was my rebellious older brother, letting me get away with anything I wanted.

“Eames? No, he’s in Mombasa, it’s Cobol’s backyard.”

“It’s a necessary risk.”

“Well, there’s plenty of good thieves.”

“We don’t just need a thief. We need a forger.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Arthur had reluctantly gone home for the night. I promised him I would be fine sleeping in the warehouse since my dad was away. He didn’t trust me, but he knew he couldn’t argue with me. I mean I didn’t lie. I did want to sleep.

I got myself comfortable on the deck chair and let the sedative seep into my veins.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your dream space*

I opened my eyes in the lobby of the hotel. Over the years I had fashioned my subconscious in this specifically navigable layout. I could bury things on different floors, and revisit things in different rooms.

It was empty. Just how I liked it. Projections of your mind are easier to get rid of than you think. I clipped my heels all the way down to the large metal elevator. I entered into the 1920s style tiled lift and looked at the numbers. -3, -2, -1, 0, 1, 2, 3.

My painted finger pressed harshly down into ‘1’.

The lift rung to life and pushed me up into the crevices of my mind. And as quickly as it started the doors were back open on to a brightly lit white corridor. The hall was as clean and perfect as I wanted to keep these memories. I opened up the door ‘101’.

Inside I saw James, Philippa and I dancing at the beach. As my projection pushes her feet through the sand, I curl my toes as I feel it soft beneath me. We are running about playing a game of tig as mom and dad look on from the picnic blanket laid out with food. The colours have faded like an old photograph, and I struggle to make out the different faces.

I decided to jump ahead a little and reach for room ‘111’.

I walk hand in hand down a beautifully decorated woodland path. Mom and dad flank me on either side. I stand tall, a child of 11, in the midst of my very own dream. That was the first time. Like the previous one it’s colours have all but gone.

I hurry back into the elevator and change the floor to number ‘2’.

This floor is harshly painted yellow, and its lights flicker incessantly. I trudge down the disgustingly patterned carpet to room ‘204’. My hand questions itself as it reaches for the handle. The door flies open into the living room of our house. I stand face to face with my mother in all her beauty. She is shouting.

“You are not my daughter; don’t you think I’d know if you were.”

My young voice shakes as it answers. “Mom, please, it’s me. You have to believe me.”

“You. Are. Not. Real.”

Her hand grasps the kitchen knife and raises it. I slam the door shut and hear the yelp of my self projection. I wait to calm my heavy breathing. I don’t want to remember her like this but it’s the only room she frequents now.

My limp body returns to the lift, and I finally reach for ‘3’. The box whirrs to life and almost gently raises me up into the final floor. This is my newest creation, where I store the unexplained and the prophetic.

I walk out onto the beautiful sage green corridor, adorned with expensive antique decorations. I make my way to room ‘301’. The door softly creaks open, and my eyes are blinded by a white light filtering in from an open window. The transparent net curtain hinders my eyeline. But in front of me I see the silhouette of a man. He is only wearing a pair of briefs and I am able to make out the lean but structured outline of his body. His hair is thick and luscious. A few chocolate strands have fallen to kiss his sharp cheekbones. I struggle to discern a face, yet I still feel stuck in this man’s gaze. Like his eyes have me in their grip. I push my way through the netting, but it works against me, rooting me to the spot. I struggle and I struggle. The constraint of the curtain becoming too much to bear. It’s difficult to breathe in my panic.

“Are you alright?” The strangers voice is the last thing I hear permeating the darkness before I’m woken up by the clock. The sedative wore off.

I sat there for a minute, gathering my breath. He was there. Again. He’s always there. No matter what I build, or where I hide, he finds a way through.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I wonder who that mysterious man could be ;)

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage

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ftmsteveraglan · 3 months

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big daddy (trans bear william afton x amab reader)

this one goes out to all the trans william enjoyers! i've been in desperate need of both big bear william and trans william, so here i am doing both. also, before anyone says anything, i know matthew lillard is on the skinnier end. this particular version is inspired by the fantastic fanart by keikoyume (not tagging her just in case she's not a fan of that!) because holy FUCK i'm feral for her rendition of him.

contains: dom william, trans bear william, sub reader, seriously the reader is submissive as shit, cunnilingus, under the desk shenanigans, daddy kink, praise kink, size difference, getting caught masturbating

you didn't know what you were getting into when you walked into the office.

it wasn't like you had anywhere else to go. your luck with your last job had run out after you'd cursed out your manager for scheduling you on a day you'd specifically asked to take off for a doctor's appointment. now, desperate with nowhere else to turn to, you'd decided to come to the job counseling office, hoping you'd find a solution.

the secretary called your number, and you jumped up to follow her into the back office. you weren't quite sure what to expect when you got there.

you didn't anticipate the man sitting before you.

even as you entered the room, you could feel his presence dominating the area. sitting before him, he loomed over you, even though he was sitting back in his chair. he had to be at least six feet tall, if not taller. he'd combed back his hair, dark brown and graying at the temples, in an attempt to look professional, but a dark part of you wanted to see how it would look unkempt and messy. he looked like he hadn't shaved in while, with a scruffy, salt and pepper beard on his chin.

no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't ignore was just how big everything about him was. broad shoulders, muscular arms, meaty hands, sizeable paunch; it was like every part of him was built to be domineering. you couldn't help but love just how much bigger he was than you, how strong he looked before you.

the nametag on his desk read "STEVE RAGLAN".

mr. raglan read through the papers in your file, humming as he flicked through the pages. he tsked, shaking his head, and said your name a few times, rolling it on his tongue. piercing eyes gazed through aviator glasses, over the pages, and straight through your soul with a look only a disappointed dad could make.

"care to explain what happened with your last job?" he asked, leaning back in the chair. you swallowed, trying to compose yourself, before talking.

"i cursed out my old manager," you said bluntly. "he scheduled me on a day i'd told him in advance that i needed off for a doctor's appointment. he wouldn't take no for an answer, so i swore at him and walked out."

mr. raglan hummed as he looked down at you over the file. "your previous jobs all have good things to say about you," he said, "but you haven't lasted at them for very long. what's that about?"

"i've been moving," you explained. "i've only now just settled down. i'm looking for something i can do to save up money so i can go back to college."

mr. raglan stayed quiet as he leafed through your file. he looked like he was about to say something, but stopped and raked his gaze over you. you tried not to squirm as his eyes moved down your body. you couldn't tell if he was checking you out or scrutinizing you.

"i might have a job for you," he said, setting your file on the desk. you perked up at the mention of a job, watching him as he got up from his desk and moved to the coffee machine at the back of the office. "want some?" he asked as he poured himself a mug.

"sure, thank you," you said with a nod. mr. raglan poured a second mug, and you took the opportunity to ogle him from where you sat. your eyes were drawn to his thick thighs, and you wondered just how big everything else of his was.

"normally, i'd try to find you a job somewhere else, at a place that fits your qualifications," mr. raglan said as he set your coffee before you. he sat back down in his chair, took a sip, and said, "but i've actually been looking for someone to fill a position around here."

curious, you drank your coffee and listened as he continued. "i'm looking for a personal assistant." with a nonchalant shrug, he explained, "it's nothing complicated, just keeping track of scheduling, sorting paperwork, things like that. pay's alright, $12 an hour." he sighed and said, "but, if you want, i can try to find you something more your speed-"

"i'll take it," you blurted out. mr. raglan looked down at you, one eyebrow raised. his expression looked more intrigued than anything.

"that was quick," he said with an amused smile. "you sure?"

"i'm sure," you nodded. such a job was perfect, both because the pay would be enough for rent with extra to spare and because you'd be able to hang around this mountain of a man just about every day. "when do i start?"

mr. raglan took another drink and sat his mug down on the table, resting his hands on his belly. "how does monday sound?"

you could feel yourself smiling as hopefulness set in. "monday sounds perfect."

that was where your relationship with mr. raglan had started. it started off strictly professional for the first few weeks. he'd shown you the ropes, and before long, you were handling his scheduling with ease. he eased you into further duties, nothing more than you could handle. it was simple busy work, and eventually, you'd established a routine which allowed you to get things done with time left to spare.

at first, mr. raglan was cordial towards you, letting you have your space as you did your job and elaborating on anything you didn't fully understand. however, over time, you swore that his attitude towards you was shifting. maybe his opinion of you had changed. maybe he'd always felt this way towards you, and his mask was slipping. either way, he started behaving differently whenever you were around. sometimes, when putting paperwork in the filing cabinets, you'd feel eyes on you, and when turning around, you'd find him shamelessly watching you, a dark look in his eye. it wasn't anything malicious or angry; it was more akin to a hungry wolf eager to pounce on an unsuspecting rabbit.

it wasn't like you were entirely innocent, either. but then again, who could blame you? mr. raglan was the effortless sort of handsome, the kind where he could simply roll out of bed and still be attractive. you couldn't help but sneak a few glances at him when he wasn't looking, though you were sure he'd caught you on more than one occasion. thankfully, he didn't ever mention it.

the tension between you two hung in the air for a while, the both of you refusing to mention it, until one day when you had to come in early. sundays were usually the day you deep cleaned his office, so you preferred to start the work day an hour earlier. you found it curious that mr. raglan's car was in the parking lot, but you brushed it off. maybe he wanted to get work done earlier, too.

it wasn't until you reached the door to his office that you realized something was up. you didn't know if your ears were deceiving you at first, but you could've sworn you could hear mr. raglan making noise on the other side of the door. the door was too thick for you to fully make out what it was. maybe he was just moving a few things around?

you should've expected what you saw on the other side, but you didn't know how to react when you opened the door to see your boss sitting in his chair with one hand down his boxers, groaning softly, a blissed out look on his face.

startled, you nearly stumbled over yourself trying to back away, closing the door, but mr. raglan had already noticed you there. rather than lashing out, however, he opened his eyes halfway and lazily turned his head over to look at you. his eyes had grown dark with lust, his cheeks flushed with color. as alluring as he looked like this, the last thing you wanted was to get fired because you walked in on your boss jerking off.

"i-i am so sorry, sir," you quickly said as your eye met his. "i'll just-"

to your surprise, mr. raglan didn't seem upset. he just chuckled, shook his head, and said, "no, no, no, come on in, sit down."

unsure of what else to do, you stepped into his office and shut the door behind you. you started moving to one of the filing cabinets, hoping to get started on work, but mr. raglan spoke up, "you don't need to worry about that right now. sit down."

swallowing your nervousness did nothing to quell the simmering in the pit of your stomach as you took your seat in front of him. his soft groaning and the sound of wet squelching from beneath the desk sounded incredibly loud in the morning quiet.

"normally," mr. raglan said, "i take care of this before you come in for your shift." he laughed and said, "i guess i got a little carried away."

you weren't sure how to respond yet. as hot as you found it to walk in on your boss getting off, you didn't want to overstep any boundaries, so you said, "i can just go if you wanna... you know... finish that up."

now, mr. raglan met your eye, and his face filled with that same dark, hungry look he'd been giving you for the past weeks.

"actually," he said, "i could use a little help right about now."

your eyes widened, unable to believe what you were hearing as he said, "don't think that i haven't noticed. i saw the way you were looking at me when we first met, the little looks you've been sneaking. you're not as subtle as you think, sweetheart." the last word dripped from his lips like a snake's venom. "don't act like you don't want this as much as i do."

you weren't about to lie to yourself. rather than try to formulate some excuse, you instead asked, "what do you mean?"

mr. raglan laughed and raised an eyebrow. "i offered you this job for a reason," he said. "i mean, i've been hunting for someone to fill this position, but i couldn't just pass you up."

you couldn't decide if you were more embarrassed or turned on at the realization. either way, you weren't about to let this opportunity slide. "you said you needed help, sir?"

a wolfish grin spread across mr. raglan's face. "just need some help finishing what i started," he said, pushing his rolling chair back from the desk a bit. peering over the desk, you could see that his pants were down below his knees, and a large wet patch had spread over his boxers. he motioned you to come to him, and you nearly tripped over yourself moving around behind the desk with him.

"there we go," mr. raglan cooed. "that's a good boy..."

mr. raglan calling you a good boy in that scratchy voice of his made your stomach do flip flops. he seemed to notice how flustered you were, because he chuckled as he finally pulled down his boxers.

"right down here, that's it," mr. raglan said, spreading his legs apart. you quickly got down on your knees between mr. raglan's legs. you were a little surprised to find that he had a soaking wet pussy rather than a cock, but you weren't put off by it. it just meant changing tactics.

cautiously, you slipped one finger into his folds, then two, pumping them in and out. mr. raglan let out a satisfied sigh above you, relaxing in his chair as you experimentally played with his hole. you moved your other hand up and circled his tdick with your thumb, which made mr. raglan groan and grip onto the arms of his chair. you could feel him getting wetter and wetter under your touch, which filled you with an odd sense of pride.

"does that feel good, sir?" you asked him.

"you don't have to call me sir, baby," mr. raglan chuckled. "no need to be so formal."

an embarrassing idea flashed through your mind, but you figured you had nothing to lose in your position. "can i eat you out? please?"

mr. raglan let out something between a huff and a laugh as he nodded. "go ahead, baby. i'm all yours."

you quickly moved your hands to grip his thighs and dove in, running your tongue up his slit. mr. raglan let out a low, throaty groan and let his head fall back. his breath came in huffs as you lapped at his slit, eager to taste him. you could feel his thighs tensing beneath your grip, hear the squeaking of leather as his fingers dug into his armrest even tighter.

"fuck, you taste so good, daddy," you whimpered as you ate him out. mr. raglan tilted his head down, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd accidentally offended him or said something dumb.

but then, mr. raglan chuckled, something dark and hungry, and moved one hand to sink his fingers into your hair, almost petting you like an obedient dog.

"that's it, sweet boy," he purred, gently scratching your scalp. "eat daddy's pussy for me, that's a good boy..."

his praise only made you even more eager as you went from simply drinking up his slick to tonguefucking him, trying to reach your tongue as deeply as possible into his hole. mr. raglan started to eagerly buck his hips into your mouth. you could just tell that he was getting close. eager to make him cum, you moved your mouth from his hole to his tdick, wrapping your lips around it and sucking hard, making mr. raglan gasp sharply. he swore and cursed under his breath as you ran your tongue along his cock, muttering, "fuck, baby, i'm so close..."

your jaw was starting to ache from working at mr. raglan's pussy, but you didn't care. you wanted to see this much bigger man fall apart on your lips. you moved one hand from his thigh to his hole, eagerly fingering him in time with sucking on his clit. that seemed to do him in, and mr. raglan tugged your hair to bring your face deeper into his pussy as he came, clenching his big thighs around your head.

for a moment, you couldn't breathe, suffocated by his pussy. eventually, his thighs fell away from your head, leaving you free to lift your head and breathe again. you could hear mr. raglan chuckling as he moved his hand from your scalp to your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

"you did such a good job, baby," he cooed, running his thumb along your cheek. his chuckle grew to a laugh as he said, "you really made a mess of me, didn't you?"

he moved his hand to pat his thigh, motioning for you to climb up. you swiftly got up and straddled his thigh, and mr. raglan leaned in to kiss you, moaning as he tasted himself on your lips.

"looks like you enjoyed this as much as i did," he murmured, bringing his hand down to your crotch to palm your half hard cock through your pants. embarrassed, you turned your head away, but mr. raglan laughed and said, "it's alright, baby. i think it's adorable."

he wrapped one strong arm around you and pulled you in for a half hug. you leaned into the hug, laying against him, resting one hand on his belly as you regained your composure.

"you know," he said, his voice low and husky, "if you help me clean this up, and if you do a good job the rest of your shift, we can keep this going once our shifts are over."

your eyes widened as you looked back to him and stammered, "a-are you sure?"

there was that look in mr. raglan's eyes again, that dark, possessive look, a look that said you'd just walked right into his trap.

"why not, baby?" he asked. "it'll just be the two of us once everyone else goes home."

as much as you knew that a romance with your boss probably wasn't the best idea, there was no way in hell you would turn this down. "god, yes. thank you, sir."

mr. raglan smirked and raised an eyebrow. "i told you, you don't have to call me sir."

your cheeks flushed pink as you realized your mistake. "thank you, daddy."

mr. raglan grinned and gently kissed your cheek, his beard scratching against your skin. "good boy."

#MAN this thing was self indulgent as shit #lmk if you want me to write the follow up where you fuck him senseless #no beta so if you see any mistakes no you didn't #william afton #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #william afton x you #william afton x reader smut #william afton x reader #fanfiction #fnaf movie #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #matthew lillard #ftmsr

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thosehallowedhalls · 4 months

Text

Home Without

Book: Crimes of Passion 2

Pairing: Trystan Thorne x F!MC (Emma Rose)

Rating: Teen

Word count: 1880

Summary: Trystan and Emma solve Nadja's murder on the first night. But what's left for them as a couple now that she doesn't have a reason to stay?

Series masterlist

A/N: Fun fact: this is saved on my laptop as WITWC - What If They Were Competent? It's ridiculous how incompetent Trystan and MC were in the second book. There was no reason for it to take so long or for Sebastyan to die. An energetic rant with the wonderful @inlocusmads made me wonder... what if they solved it as soon as they could have? Would MC have stayed in Drakovia? This is the result.

This story fits @choicesjanuary2024, day 18: memory. @lilyoffandoms. I also included a prompt from @choicesflashfics, which is bolded below.

Tags: @dutifullynuttywitch @stars-are-within-me

Part 1

This is not how Emma expected to end the day.

Trystan is sitting there telling her he doesn’t appreciate her tone, like he’s her father instead of her partner, and he might want that damn throne.

“I’m finished with this conversation,” he adds, his dismissive tone setting alight the flame of her temper.

“Well I’m not.”

She follows him out of the library, Alice on her heels. She needs to get at least one last message across. “Let’s get one thing straight. This isn’t up for debate, I’m going back home this week. With or without you.”

Trystan’s steps falter, but he continues to advance towards his suite. The sharp intake of breath is her first clue that something is wrong.

The unmistakable smell of blood is another.

Emma quickly gets to Trystan’s side and places a hand on his shoulder, an unconscious show of support, even as she takes in the brutality of the scene in front of her.

“Nadja,” he whispers. She’s never heard him sound so lost before. “She’s dead.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“How…?”

“Trystan.” Her training takes over. “This is an active crime scene now. We need to call your parents and Ruby.”

Once they leave the throne room, Trystan takes her hand.

“Emma, wait. I’m sorry for freezing you out earlier. Today has been – and continues to be – overwhelming.”

The apology is appreciated, but they have bigger fish to fry right now. So she tells him it’s already forgotten, even though she knows they will have to revisit the topic soon – and neither of them is likely to appreciate the outcome of that conversation.

He nods, grateful, but doesn’t let go of her hand. “What you said earlier…”

She knows what he wants to ask. But she can’t let herself go down this road. Not yet. “Let’s focus on the case. We can… We can talk about it later.”

After they finish searching Lydea’s room, Emma turns to Trystan.

“One suite down, seven to go. Whose room do we search next?”

“Vasili’s is next door, but murder is hardly his type.”

“Murder is hardly anybody’s type. Until it is.”

“Be that as it may, I have a hard time imagining him as a murderer. Other than Mags, he’s my only sane sibling.”

“Then this should be over quickly.”

They smell the blood before they even make it through the door.

“No,” Trystan breathes. “It can’t be.”

But they both see it. The bloody smears on the floor. The sweater vest stained with blood.

“Vasili?”

“Right. Unless this is an attempt to frame yet another Thorne, I’d say this case is open and shut.”

Vasili looks almost resigned when they step into the throne room and turn to face him. He doesn’t attempt to run or convince them that there’s a mistake or he’s being framed. Instead, he gives Trystan a look of profound disdain.

“This is your fault, you know.” He looks at Emma. “Both of you.”

“Oh? Did we hold a gun to your head and force you to slit a woman’s throat?”

“As good as. You got him off the hook for Juliana’s murder. You got him reinstated as Crown Prince.”

“Wait. Juliana’s murder? How would you…” Trystan’s face slackens in shock. “It was you?”

“No, it was you! If Juliana hadn’t chosen you, none of this would have happened.”

The family has been mostly silent so far, most likely out of sheer shock. But at this, Sebastyan steps forward. He’s looking at Vasili like he’s a stranger. “You killed Juliana? Why?”

Trystan sucks in a breath. “The letter that Noemi read in court. Juli wrote it to you.”

“We’d made all these plans. We’d pass the Act, she’d talk you into abdicating, and then we’d finally be together. But then… she chose you. She decided she wanted to be with you. Never mind that she knew you would make a terrible king. Never mind that we talked about how your irresponsibility would run Drakovia into the ground. The second she fell in love with you, she forgot all about her principles.”

“That’s quite enough.” Queen Viktoria’s tone leaves a trail of frost behind. She shifts her steely gaze from her stepson to her daughter. “Lydea.”

Lydea’s eyes flash with something that Emma thinks might be pain. But then she sets her jaw. “Prince Vasili Thorne, you’re under arrest for the murders of Nadja Zoric and Countess Juliana Georgescu.”

“Well. That was fun.” Emika’s voice breaks into the stunned silence.

“Emika.” Although his face is a portrait of grief, Maksim turns to Eveline. She stands stock still, her hands pressed to her mouth and her eyes brimming with tears. “Let’s go, my love. You need to rest.”

As though she’s on strings, she lets herself be led out of the room, but Emma knows Eveline won’t be doing any resting. Not tonight, not for a long time.

She looks at the remaining Thornes. The twins are talking animatedly, apparently delighted by this turn of events. Astrid is texting. Sebastyan and Marguerite sit close together, looking devastated. And Trystan… Trystan stands next to her, a storm of sorrow in his eyes.

She takes his hand, making a mental note to check on Marguerite later. “Trystan?”

“Did… did that really just happen?”

“I’m afraid so.” She takes his arm. “Why don’t we go outside?”

“Why? Is outside an alternate universe where my brother isn’t a murderer and didn’t kill two innocent women, one of whom was my late fiancée?”

“No, but outside has the benefit of being devoid of Thornes.”

He gives the tiniest of laughs. There is hardly any humor behind it, but she’ll take it. “It’s annoying how often you’re right.”

There’s something eerily beautiful about the palace gardens at night. Emma isn’t a fanciful person, but she almost expects to see faeries frolicking and witches casting spells. This is a place for magic. The harsh, unforgiving type you might find in a Brothers Grimm fairytale.

“I can’t believe this, Emma.”

“I know.”

“I always thought Vasili was the best of us. The only one I trusted more was Marguerite. But all along, he hated me.”

“Maybe not all along.”

“Long enough. And I never picked up on it.”

“That’s not your fault. He never meant for you to pick up on it.”

He looks out to the gardens, his expression haunted. “Two women are dead because of that hate.”

“No, two women are dead because Vasili is a murderer. He could have talked to you. Instead, he chose to kill two people.” She lays a hand on his arm. “Trystan, I’m sure learning that Vasili and Juliana were together was a shock, but…”

“A shock is a surprise. This falls more along the lines of full-on electrocution.”

The fact that he’s still cracking jokes gives her hope. “But don’t let that ruin the memory of what you and Juliana had. You heard him. She chose you.”

He smiles faintly. “I know, Emma. Don't worry, I’m not having an existential crisis over the fact that Juliana had a life before me.”

“Good.”

She wraps an arm around his waist and tugs him into a hug. Trystan sighs, embracing her in return. “Emma Rose, voluntarily hugging? I’m all aflutter.”

“I hug you all the time.”

“It doesn’t count when I start it.”

“Trystan?”

“Hmm?”

“Be quiet.”

He laughs and holds her closer. “How is it that you make everything better?”

“I’m irresistible?”

“Yes.” He’s no longer laughing. “You are.”

They don’t bring up their earlier fight. They don’t talk about the strong possibility that he will stay in Drakovia, or about her proclamation that she will go back either way. By tacit agreement, they focus on getting through the present moment.

Eventually, however, they have to face the future.

Early the next morning, Emma opens her bedroom door to find Trystan standing outside, a travel mug in his hand.

“I brought you coffee.”

She takes it, bracing herself for what she knows is coming. “Thanks.”

“Can we go for a walk?”

“Sure.”

They walk in silence for several minutes. The palace gardens are as beautiful as they were night before, although far less eerie. She finds herself missing the almost otherworldly beauty. It suited her current mood much better than the Disney-esque quality of daylight.

“I can’t leave,” he says finally. Although it’s not a surprise, Emma’s heart still squeezes in pain. “What Vasili said…”

“Nadja’s murder wasn’t your fault. Neither was Juliana’s.”

“Maybe not, but… he was right about me, Emma. What he and Juliana talked about… I would have made a terrible king. I spent the first twenty-two years of my life dumping my responsibilities on everybody around me. Lydea, Vasili… even Bas, and he was only a teenager when I was exiled.”

“You were barely more than a kid.”

“I’m not a kid anymore. I abandoned my responsibilities to Drakovia once before. To do so again would mean…”

“What?”

He shakes his head. “I have to stay.”

“I understand.” And she does. Even as part of her hurts so badly she’s vaguely surprised she’s still standing, she smiles at him. “You’ll make an amazing leader.”

Trystan takes an unsteady breath. “Would you… Would you consider staying?”

“I can’t.” She looks down at her mug, at her boots, at the grass beneath them. Anything to avoid looking at him. “My life is in New York.”

“You could have a life here.” He cups her jaw. “I promise to make it as good as I possibly can.”

“Trystan, you can’t be my whole entire life. What would I even do here?”

“You could open your own agency! You saved a beloved Drakovian princess from a serial killer and put a prince away for two murders. Clients would be clamoring for your services.” His eyes soften. “And we could be together, you and me.”

“Yeah, like your dad and Eveline are together. That would never be enough for me.”

“Emma, I would never…”

“Trystan. What are the odds that your parents – or Drakovia in general – would accept an American private detective as your partner?” When his face falls, she nods. “That’s what I thought.”

She isn’t sure who moves first, but before she knows it, they’re tangled together. The kiss is so desperate she doesn’t know how they’ll break apart, not that she particularly cares. Trystan’s arms hold her tightly enough that she would worry about bruises if she had the bandwidth to think about anything at all, and she sinks her fingers into his hair, trying to commit the feel of it to memory.

After today, that’s all they’ll ever be. A memory.

He insists on taking her to the airport. Luke and Ruby are staying a few more days, but she made an excuse about needing to help out Uncle Tommy at the bar. The longer she stays with Trystan, the harder it will be to leave him behind.

He lingers on the goodbye hug. Emma clings to him, every bit as reluctant to part as he obviously is. But eventually, she breaks the hug and steps back.

“Well, Your Highness. It’s been an experience.”

Trystan smiles back. She wonders if her own smile looks as forced. “Detective. That it has.”

She searches through her carry-on for her boarding pass, steps into the boarding gate.

She doesn’t look back.

@choicesficwriterscreations

#trystan x emma #trystan x mc #crimes of passion #trystan thorne #detective rose #emma rose #playchoices #play choices

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completeoveranalysis · 7 months

Note

Of Yūko's customers, which ones you find most memorable?

Most memorable customers, you say?

I hope you don't mind me using this as an excuse to make an arbitrary list by way of answer. (Arbitrary lists, my beloved...)

Yuuko's Customers In Order Of How Well I Remember Them

(Though I will exclude all the bigger characters for fairness. So, Syaoran, Watanuki, Lava Lamp, Fai, Kurogane, Doumeki, Himawari, Seishirou, Ashura, Tomoyo, etc, etc. Regular xxxHolic customers only!)

10. Birdcage Customer

What was this about? Was he even a customer? We just don't know!

But the thing most memorable about this whole situation is the most pressing question: WHY DO YOU HAVE EVIL WOLVERINE'S SYMBOL ALL OVER YOUR HOME? It's even on his front sign!

WHO ARE YOU?????

9. The Liar

Mostly at the bottom because I can't resist the irony. She's the first big customer we see - but what do we really know about her? Absolutely nothing, because she lied every step of the way!

What can we really remember about someone who never actually told us anything about herself?

Though I guess you could say her ending causes quite an impact.

8. Monkey's Paw Customer

Did I forget this had happened? Perhaps!

She's one of those cases where the cause and effect are so clear that the rest of the cast might as well not even be there - and I think most of her story IS told through scenes entirely from her perspective.

I think the most memorable thing about her is the Sheer Audacity of hunting down a monkey's paw and being convinced that, actually, she already knows what it does so it can't possibly go wrong. Love that for her. Would kill for this confidence.

(Not literally - but she kind of did that also)

7. Ame Warashi

Her impeccable style. Her winning charm. She's an icon.

I had just completely forgotten that she was also a customer at one point.

She makes up for it for being absolutely great in every scene she was in, but what are you going to do in a list based purely on how well I remember the customer part? Woops! My bad!

6. Karasu Tengu

They get huge points for this being a Central Event in the narrative, but also I completely forgot they were in this as customers. The entire plot scenario? Incredible! Character defining! Et cetera!

The actual Karasu Tengu themselves? Woops! I forgot they were there. My fault though!

5. The Computer Addict

I love this one. She's so ahead of the curve that she was addicted to the internet back when you had to be on the pc to use it. Honestly, relatable. I also went through a phase like this as a young teen, so the struggle was real.

Little did we all know that in the present day the accessibility of the internet would be so rampant that she literally wouldn't even need that pc to indulge her habits anymore. Oops!

But that aside Yuuko is peak during this arc and I love everything about it. Especially the fact that Yuuko just hangs out on message boards in her free time? Wonderful information. I can do so much with this.

4. Oops! All Ghosts

Another incredible storyline. The twists are preserved by some sneaky panels from Watanuki's perspective and Yuuko's morally grey approach to the whole situation is wonderful. What if you wanted to get rid of the ghost in your home, only to find out that YOU were the ghost all along? It has the DISTRESS. It has the CONFLICT. It has the TRAGEDY. 10/10

3. Haunted Photo

Another customer with Peak Audacity. Trying to wish away the consequences of your own actions? Committing something awful but being unable to actually look at the proof yourself? The ultimate wish being an anxiety inducing curse that is sure to fail? Love it.

It's also one of those juicy situations where the morality of the situation basically drives itself. The customer causes her own problems and can't actually be saved - and doesn't deserve it either.

And honestly I think CLAMP should get a lot of credit for having the haunting effects of a photograph slowly turning around in a purely static medium. They really pulled that off.

I still love the evil smile in the photograph the last time we see it. PURE memorable.

2. The Twin

WE LOVE HER? WE LOVE HER.

Being consistently cut off and run down and overwritten and slowly clawing your way out of the situation through the sheer desire to be your own person?

And then the answer is a haircut?

It's another glimpse into the side of Yuuko that really does try cut people a good bargain. The wish could have been taken in any number of ways, but Yuuko went for the easiest and most affordable way that would genuinely help the customer actually fix her life on her own. She didn't specifically need supernatural help for this, but it was the route that presented itself, and it was the one that got her the help she needed when she needed it. Very hitsuzen, very relatable, very identifiable storyline that sticks with you.

Just like the final entry!

1. Kohane

Listen do I even need to explain this one.

Kohane is like THE storyline. It's THE example of what it's all about. It's not entirely supernatural in nature but completely heart wrenching. It has Watanuki playing a central role in fixing the problem, setting up for his future (or at least, what I assume it will be). It ties xxxHolic to Tsubasa and hints at a secret tool that will help with someone later.

And it has Kohane! You can't go wrong.

#I'm not counting the ghost who tries to kill Watanuki #because she was lonely #Or uh... all the other ghosts that try to kill Watanuki #Didn't buy anything! Not customers!#replies #traditionalartist #not liveblogging the reservoir chronicle #xxxholic #Oh am I doing a ranking list for no reason?#YES ABSOLUTELY #Listen I love it #I'll rank anything for any reason #But also #The thematic links between all the longer Customer arcs?#The overlaps between the computer addict the twin and kohane?#The line between the haunted photo and kohane's mother?#Wonderful #I love how they play with themes all the way through #But in different flavours and in different stages

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child-of-the-sky-people · 7 months

Note

hi Ali! im looking for a new narrative podcast to get into, what's your current rec list? :)

Oh god it’s so long 😂

Horror:

Human Error - this one is mine so of course I’m recommending it 😂 it’s about a found family of survivors going on a road trip during a zombie apocalypse 12 years after the world ended!

We’re Alive - also zombie horror and was the show that got me into audio dramas! It’s very long and looks overwhelming but I promise it’s good!

Darkest Night - anthology horror where you find out how people died but each case is actually related and there is a bigger mystery and this show lives in my head rent free lol

The Waystation - found footage style show about a group of people on a space station that all died (the story is trying to piece together what happened). It’s along the same lines as The White Vault

DERELICT - a research group are studying a door at the bottom of the ocean, and then shit goes sideways. I binged this series super fact and I need season 2 immediately lol

The Eleventh Hour episode called The City of Statues - I made this! It’s about a group of survivors trying to make it out of a city filled with statues trying to hunt them down 👀

Someone Dies in this Elevator - mix of horror and thriller I think. It’s an anthology series where every episode someone dies in an elevator 👀 I composed for a few episodes and it’s v fun 🤩

Thriller

The Liberty Podcast - made by the same folks behind The White Vault and VAST Horizon. It’s an anthology series of stories taking place within and surrounding a tower where a civilization lives. Some episodes might lean more towards horror but I personally consider it more thriller

The Walk - made by the same folks behind zombies run! In this show you the listener are the main character, an individual making their way across Scotland with a package they were mistakenly delivered. I love this show so much omg

Primordial Deep - scientists are finding extinct dinosaurs alive and well under the ocean and they’re trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. I fucking love this show omg

Spines - woman wakes up in the middle of a cult ritual with no memories and is trying to figure out who she is and where she came from. Also there are powers!

Mirrors - same person behind Spines! Three women from three different centuries (who are all related to each other) discover they can communicate with each other through ghost like figures. It has a bigger mystery and the ending made me cry it was so good

InCo - a woman finds a prince from a world that shouldn’t exist floating in space. This show is a delight and is a micro series and I love the humor within it so much omg

Where the Stars Fell - the Antichrist is roommates with their guardian angel and they’re trying to stop the rapture

DUST - anthology series about science fiction and technology! Season 3 is definitely my favorite as it is one story but the entire show as a whole is very good

Feel Good/Light Hearted Shows

Unseen - this show lives in my head rent free and I ache for it to be real. It’s about magic existing in the real world and is an anthology! It’s made by the same folks behind Wolf 359

Joy to the World - holiday series I helped produce! It’s about an astronaut named Joy talking with different people on Earth about the holidays! It’s an anthology and v warm and I highly recommend it as a holiday series

Sidequesting - a person who is totally not the hero is avoiding the main plot and going on a bunch of side quests! It’s charming and lovely and made by the wonderful Tal

Back Again, Back Again - a woman is retelling her stories of his magical world she was transported into and about the prophecy she became involved in

If none of these are your jam lmk and I can suggest some more! If you tell me what you like to listen to/what kinds of stories you enjoy I can make a more personalized list

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farity · 1 year

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Enemies, part 3

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x you

Summary: Reader is Rhaenyra’s second child and her father is Laenor Velaryon (the only child they had together, the boys are still Harwin Strong’s)

Warning: Smut

You awoke earlier than usual, only to find troops patrolling the keep and to two guards who prevented you from leaving your rooms.

The guards closed the door in your face and you stood, in shock, wondering if Aemond had decided he was finished with you and you were being sent back to Dragonstone. Or worse.

This felt bigger than a situation that concerned you and Aemond, though, and when you looked outside your window, you saw more troops, and now you were sure this was not to do with the state of your marriage.

You washed and dressed, decided to wear breeches in case a swift exit on Bellerax was needed. Your sweet girl, you hoped nothing bad would happen to her, and wished you were with her to soothe and comfort her. You had just pulled the tunic over your head when Aemond walked in. One look at his expression and you knew something was very wrong.

“The king has died.”

You let out a breath. “Oh Aemond, I am very sorry.” You gave in to impulse and reached him, wrapped your arms around his waist. Slowly, he placed his arms around you and you stood there for a few minutes, simply holding each other.

“Aegon is gone.”

You pulled back, “what?”

He looked so stricken, despite his almost non-existent relationship with his father. Despite his animosity towards his brother. “I will go looking for him.” He untangled himself from you and began pacing around. “I have told the guards to let you out if you wish but to follow you,” he held up his hands when he saw you start to react, “I need to know you are safe. I do not doubt you, but in case someone feels that you being Rhaenyra’s daughter means you are a spy, or worse, a traitor, I need to know you are in no danger.”

“Would that someone be your grandfather? I know he did not look well upon our marriage.”

“I have spoken to him. Made it clear you are under my protection and you have my complete trust.”

“Oh well, in that case I am sure he is completely convinced,” you said sarcastically and Aemond gave you a look.

“Which is why,” he stepped closer to you, “you have not only these two guards, who are loyal to me, but also three others waiting for a signal to get you to your dragon. If need be, you must go to Driftmark, you will be safer there.”

You nodded, and looked up at him. “Aemond. I meant what I said, I will not swear allegiance to her.”

He took your hands in his. “I know. You would drive the holiest of Septons to madness, but I do not believe you are a liar.”

“Good thing you are not a Septon. Or holy.” You gave him a small smile. “Why are you looking for Aegon?”

You saw him steel himself before he answered, and his hands tightened on yours. “Because according to my mother, when she spoke to the king last night, he told her to crown Aegon king.”

Your jaw dropped, and for several seconds you could not speak. “That is why Otto may act against me,” you said slowly. “That is why you are giving me a possible escape, because you think he might do something.”

He shook his head, but you pulled your hands away.

“Do you believe her? Your mother?”

“She would not lie.”

You knew better than to argue on this point. If he could believe that you would not lie, when he had known you for such a short time, you could not argue that his mother, whom he held in the highest regard, would lie about this.

“Where do you think Aegon is? One of his usual pleasure houses?”

To his credit, Aemond didn’t bother to ask how you knew where Aegon could be. “I do not know. I must go now.” He looked upon you for a moment, as if committing your face to memory, and then left.

You sank onto the edge of your bed, wondering how Rhaenyra, who had been the heir since she was about your age, would react if she knew.

* * * * *

"I don’t want that girl at the coronation.”

Aemond didn’t look up from the map he was studying. “By ‘that girl’ do you mean Her Highness, who is a Targaryen princess by blood and by marriage and who is also my wife?”

“She cannot be there,” Otto Hightower insisted. “you know as well as I do how unpredictable she is. Do you trust her to bend the knee to your brother?”

“You know as well as I do, grandfather, how much of a wastrel Aegon is. Do you trust him to be sober for his own coronation?”

“I will not have this insolence from you!” Otto erupted, “is that girl worth the argument?”

“Father?”

Otto turned, as Aemond continued to make marks on the map. “Alicent,” he said, steadying himself, “all is ready, I trust?”

Alicent walked over to her son. “It is. I wish to speak to Aemond.”

Once Otto had left, Aemond finally raised his head, and turned to face his mother. “What did father say to you, exactly?”

“Aemond what were you arguing about?”

“He doesn’t want my wife at the coronation. What did father say to you?” he insisted, unwilling to let it go.

Alicent sighed and took her son’s hand. “He told me that Aegon is the prince that was promised to fight against the cold and the dark and that it was me who had to ensure it happened.” She watched him closely. “He was very insistent, Aemond, and it was a surprise to me, too.”

“Then it must be done,” Aemond replied.

His mother nodded. “What is this about your wife?”

“Grandfather does not want her there when Aegon is crowned, he thinks she will do something to disrupt the coronation.”

“Do you believe she would?”

“No,” Aemond replied. “She told me about Rhaenyra and Criston Cole.”

Alicent’s eyes went wide. “What did she tell you?”

“She has no love for Rhaenyra, mother, and she told me, even before father died, that she would not pledge allegiance to her.”

“I know this marriage is a burden on you, Aemond, and I know you believe what she says,” Alicent said slowly, “but should she turn, we can annul the bond of marriage, and you can be free.”

Aemond said nothing, and Alicent continued, “Rhaenyra has lied about a great many things for a long time. I would not put it past the mother to coach the daughter.”

“Is it exhausting?” he asked, standing up.

“What?”

“Seeing treachery and lies everywhere?”

He left, wondering if in the end, he would pay with his blood for trusting his wife.

* * * * *

At Aegon’s coronation, there was a great uproar when Rhaenyra, wearing her father’s crown, flew in on Syrax along with her husband Daemon, who rode in on Caraxes.

Alicent stood in front of her oldest son, as if she would protect him from dragonfire, but Rhaenyra’s eyes settled upon you, as you stood next to Aemond. She extended her hand and smiled at you, and oh you wanted to believe in that smile, you really did.

“Come home, sweet girl. You need not stand with the traitors.”

You had decided to wear a gown made to mirror Aemond’s clothes. The top half was nearly identical, same curved collar, same fastenings, but whereas his jacket ended at the top of his thigh, yours continued to the floor, opening to reveal a skirt of black silk.

Taking a couple of steps, you faced your mother and stepfather.

“By marrying me off you ensured that I am no longer a girl but a wife, and that my home is no longer in Dragonstone.”

“Dragonstone will always be your home, child.”

Your heart ached, and, tired of once more seeing your mother try to use you for her own benefit, you stepped back to stand next to your husband before you spoke:

“Welcome to King’s Landing, Princess Rhaenyra.”

* * * * *

Aemond wanted nothing more than to grab his wife in his arms and kiss her, proclaim to the realm that the woman next to him had just publicly defied his whore of a sister, and she had done so wearing his colors.

He had been left speechless when he had first seen her in their rooms, the seamstress still trailing behind her finishing with her needle and black thread. “Surely I can add some color, perhaps some red, Your Highness?”

“No, this is good, thank you.” She’d seen him standing there, scrutinizing her gown, and she’d stopped walking. Every stitch, every line the mirror of his, and when he’d murmured her name, so softly he was sure she didn’t hear it, she looked at him almost self-consciously. When she’d started fidgeting, he’d taken her hands in his and kissed her.

Now, he stood next to her and watched Rhaenyra and Daemon take the meaning behind his wife’s words. Suddenly, Daemon unfastened the straps that secured him to his dragon and stood up on the saddle. “This is how you repay her, ungrateful little bitch?” he bellowed, eyes blazing. “I should reduce you to ashes where you stand.”

Aemond stepped in front of his wife, took out his dagger. He could hit Daemon from where he was - neck, heart, the spot on the thigh where he would bleed to death in less than a minute, but then Rhaenyra turned to her husband and whispered something and after a few seconds, Daemon sat back down, and Aemond twirled the dagger in his hand before sheathing it again.

The two of them left on their dragons and he heard his mother’s deep sigh of relief. “Can we make sure no one is hurt?” she asked, and Otto signaled to a few guards. People had dispersed fast when the two dragons appeared, and they weren’t likely to return but aside from some bumps and bruises, there didn’t seem to be any great injuries.

“Let’s finish it,” Otto said, and Aegon and Helaena were crowned in the mostly empty dragon pit before the meager cheers of the few dozen people left. Aegon rolled his eyes, muttering something about wasting his time before walking away.

“You should feed them.”

“What was that, princess?” asked his grandfather.

“You had your guards shepherd the people in here and then they fled in fear for their lives. The least you can do is give them some food.”

Ser Otto smiled coldly at her. “They fled in fear of your mother and her husband.” He took a step closer and Aemond felt his muscles tense in preparation for a fight. “How did they know about the coronation?”

His wife laughed. “I wouldn’t know, Ser Otto, I am sure they have little birds throughout the city, much as you have them throughout Dragonstone.”

“Are you, princess, one of those little birds?”

“Grandfather.”

“I am merely asking your wife a question, Aemond.”

She tilted her head, still smiling. “Surely you know I’ve been under guard, and I would hope that pudding-faced milksop of a laundress you’ve placed in my service has kept you informed of the fact that I have written to no one, have spoken to no one, other than my husband and his family, and I have gone nowhere since king Viserys died.”

Ser Otto opened his mouth but Aemond stepped between his wife and his grandfather. “That is enough,” he snapped, and guided her out of the dragon pit, his hand on her back.

* * * * *

“Why have you not told me?”

You walked next to Aemond, two guards behind you, and felt weariness pulling at you. “That he has spies on me? Really, Aemond.” You smiled to yourself. “I would almost feel insulted if he did not.”

When you reached your rooms, the guards stayed outside as you walked in. Aemond was silent and the more time that passed, the more it weighed between you.

“What is it, Aemond?”

He turned to you, eyebrow raised. “I did not say anything.”

You began unfastening the front of your jacket. “I am well aware, as I am also well aware of the fact that there is much you wish to say..”

“I wish we could leave.”

You stopped, and looked up.

“I wish we could go somewhere without all this intrigue and scheming and always being on guard.”

Did he mean with you? Did he want a peaceful life with you?

You laughed softly, pushing the thought away. “I might not know what to do in a place where you can trust everyone and people say what they mean. What would we do to entertain ourselves?”

The look in his eye changed in an instant and just as quickly, you stopped working the fastenings on your jacket, frozen in place.

“I don’t know that I would call it entertainment,” he said, walking toward you, “did this take much effort to make?” he asked, running a fingertip down one edge of the jacket, until he reached the part where it was still fastened together.

“I do not know.”

He grabbed both edges and tore the rest of it open, revealing the long black silk gown underneath. The neckline was low, revealing the swells of your breasts and his eye went to the valley between them. He leaned down, and you felt the warmth of his tongue there. You tried to steady your breathing but quickly realized it was a losing battle, and then he tore the gown open, too, until every bit of fabric fell to the floor.

He began undoing his own clothes as he walked you to the bed until you were sitting on the edge. He stood before you, kneeing your thighs apart. “Lay down.”

“Will I be begging for mercy?”

Aemond smirked. “As much as I like hearing you beg, I would not waste your time.”

* * * * *

When they were together, Aemond thought, everything else faded. When she opened her arms to him, he had no doubts, and a weight was lifted off of him. It was the last thing he had expected from this marriage and he wondered if it would survive the turbulent times ahead, but he pushed the thought away, desperate to cling to her.

After, he did his best to stay still as she traced the planes of his face. She ran one fingertip down the center of his forehead, traced the bridge of his nose, the outline of his lips.

“Who does Daeron look like?” she asked suddenly, “I have not seen him in years.”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “Are you leaving me for my younger brother?”

“Leaving you?” she smiled, “why would I ever do that? It’s not like our families are locked in a potentially lethal conflict that might destroy each and every one of us.”

He wanted to laugh, and couldn’t. “I won’t let it.”

Her hand stilled on his face, and she cupped his cheek, turning him to face her. “Aemond, somehow I think this might be out of your hands.”

“So what do we do, take up arms and join the battle? You have said you will not swear allegiance to Rhaenyra, but you didn’t bend the knee to Aegon, either.”

“Because I learned long ago that there is only one side for me. Mine.” Her hand slid down the side of his neck, “and I will do all I can to protect what is mine.”

He wanted to ask if he was part of what was hers, he wanted to know.

Two great roars made him reach over and cover her with his body, as if he alone could shield her. Once they passed, he jumped off the bed, watching as she, too, began reaching for her clothes.

* * * * *

You knew one of the roars, had heard it many times during your life, and told Aemond which dragon it was. In turn, he told you who the other rider was.

When you ran out to the courtyard, Otto and Alicent were standing, looking up like everyone else. “Make sure Helaena and the children are safely inside,” she ordered Ser Criston, who nodded and left immediately.

The dragons exchanged fire and roars and your heart galloped, thundering in your ears. This could not end well. Alicent turned to you, her eyes filled with fear and desperation. “You should go inside,” she said.

Her son.

Your mother.

Alicent looked at Aemond. “Get Vhagar. Now.”

You refused to look at your husband. If he joined the fight, it would be to aid his brother, and they would win. Syrax was no match for the combined forces of Sunfyre and Vhagar. Just as you did not want to see in his face if he made the choice of fighting against Rhaenyra, you were sure he did not want to see yours if he indeed, made that choice.

But he did not move.

For in the distance, the dragons were entangled, their great bodies plummeting to the ground.

* * * * *

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katyspersonal · 2 months

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Anti-Clockwise is the power of 'Spiders'?

Rom's petrified 'real' body is used to bring Annalise back to her normal shape after Alfred beats her into a pulp! But it might also be an explanation of how Rom manages to keep humanity safe from horrors! Mensis Ritual is effecting everyone like a status effect even if they can't perceive it, but the time-reversal powers can pull backwards most of the transformations: beasthood or Kin!

Not everyone could be saved (cases in point: Gascoigne and Amelia turning before we defeat Rom). But at the same time, those two, as well as average Yharnamites becoming beastly upon the hunt, are likely falling for their own hubris! This is not Rom's domain, but she can protect people from what Bloodmoon would otherwise transform them into! Gilbert is an example off the top of my head, not having been corrupted by blood and hunt but being afflicted with Ashen Blood from within that comes in "reaction" with the Moon and otherwise is just frailty and bad coughing fits!

Basically, her protection could go beyond simply "not showing" people scary things! It also makes me wonder if better studying this power could, potentially, discover a way to turn people back into humans even after they've became beasts/kin/monsters/etc! Maybe that's why the strongest variant of this rune was found in Loran too, because they were looking for a way to stop the transformation: Ashen Blood beasts are abundant in Loran dungeons after all! Nightmare Apostles (what 'Spiders' are) found in dungeons, and Patches goes there too, and Amygdalas also were a thing since those times as they're bosses in there. It could be thanks to them why some Loranites survived to this day (Suspicious Beggar and Henryk come to mind)

Or maybe this power is only accessible to those that did make a pact with Amygdalas, and even then where is the guarantee you will be strong enough as a Spider to help everyone? Say, someone wants to turn victims of Healing Church's experiments back into humans and makes a pact with Amygdala..... ...but what if that very act wrecks their humanity, or sanity overall, to the point they no longer want to do that? Or they see some twisted bigger picture for why they should not. Or they lose their freedom and are not permitted by Amygdalas to do it: they are EVIL gods, after all!

#bloodborne #rom the vacuous spider #patches the spider #amygdala #use later #bloodborne headcanons #bloodborne observation #screenshots

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inmyfxith · 1 year

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Being a member of the Sully family (youngest child version) - Part. II

A/N -> Female reader / I am extremely sorry for what you will read below. The last part was written during a discussion with @eywas-heir… so I based my writing on her idea.

Warnings -> Angst

Part. I

Because you would be Neteyam's size when he is kneeling, whenever you are next to him, he would put his arm around your waist to make you feel safe.

This would be the case when Lo'ak would explain his budding relationship with the tulkun Payakan, whom you would call tukun or tlukun without really meaning to. The same evening, you would find him on the beach, lost in his thoughts and you would ask him to tell you about his friend the "tlukun".

At mealtime, while everyone was gathered around the fire, you would have a face fight with Tuk while Neytiri would be busy cutting your food or making it easier to eat. You would also have a competition to see which of you has the bigger tongue, to which Lo'ak would stick out his tongue to prove that he would win the competition hands down under your admiring gaze.

Helping your mom to cook, obviously she would give you simple tasks such as just handing her leaves, you would witness Kiri's bad mood.

As you stood in the middle of your hut, surrounded by the warm and inviting scents of your mother’s cooking, you couldn’t help but feel content and happy. Neytiri was by your side, showing you the art of preparing the ingredients, and praising your efforts as you handed her leaves with care and attention. But amidst this peaceful scene, you couldn't help but notice that your sister Kiri was sitting in a corner, with a frown on her face and her arms crossed."Mom, why is Kiri so sad?” You asked, with a hint of concern in your voice."She's just having a bad day, my little one." Neytiri replied with a warm and comforting smile. "But don't worry, she'll be alright.”

With your heart heavy with worry, you decided to take a walk with your Neteyam, to clear your thoughts. You walked along the beach, the sun shining bright above you, the waves lapping at your feet, and the sea breeze blowing through your hair. You collected shells, marveling at their different shapes and colors, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and contentment. Neteyam walked by your side, listening to your stories, and pointing out different shells that you might have missed. As you walked, an idea came to you.“Would you help me make a necklace?" You asked, with a sparkle of excitement in your eyes."Sure. What kind of necklace do you want to make?" Neteyam replied with a hint of curiosity."I want to make a necklace for Kiri, to make her happy." You said, with a sense of determination in your voice.Neteyam agreed, and with his help, you crafted a beautiful necklace of shells, strung together on a leather string. You were so proud of your creation and couldn't wait to show it to your sister.

You walked back to the village and found Kiri sitting alone, her feet on the water. You approached her, and held out the necklace for her to see.“I made this necklace for you. It's magical, and it will bring you happiness and good luck." You said, with a smile on your face. Kiri looked at the necklace, and a small smile appeared on her face. She took it from you, and hugged you tightly, thanking you for the gift.

As a curious child, you would introduce yourself to every Metkayina you met by telling them your name, age, and potentially your date of birth, like a memorized phrase you would repeat just to make sure you knew it.

You would play explorers with Kiri and Tuk when Neteyam would tell your sisters that Lo'ak was going to see Payakan. And of course, not to be left alone, Tsireya would take you on her ilu.

Because you would have been captured with Lo'ak, Tsireya and Tuk. It is obvious that you would have followed your sister in her quest to help Kiri. Although relatively fast, your inexperience would work against you and Quaritch would eventually catch you.

While he would hold you with Kiri and Tuk, you would try to hiss with your little teeth. Giving something more adorable than scary. Quaritch would frown, not impressed at all, and would probably make a remark like "as wild as her mother" while holding you by the chin.

Left alone with Tuk, you would have cried out Neteyam's name, while your sister would try to reassure you that your parents were coming. And that's what happened. Jake appeared, untying your hands and taking you in his arms to make sure nothing had happened to you or Tuk.

During the confrontation between your father and Quaritch, you would have put your little hands over your eyes, unable to resist the fear. Tuk would hold your hand while yelling at Quaritch.

Of course, you would follow your mom inside the boat. Because without your mom, what would you be? She would be holding you, using her body as a shield against anything that could hurt you while you tried to find a way out.

Once safe and reunited, you would go up to the ilu of Kiri to join Neteyam whom you had not seen since he had left with the signal.

Kiri's ilu came to a stop, beside the rock where Tsireya waited. Though your heart was heavy, the sight of your family brought a flicker of hope, a glimmer of security. Lo'ak took Tsireya in his arms as she wept, but you paid her no mind, assuming her tears were those of joy, at finding you once more.

But as you turned, your eyes fell upon Neteyam, lying still upon the ground. In your innocence, you believed him to be but resting. Neytiri, sensing your approach, reached out to hold you back, but with a gentle smile and a silent finger pressed to your lips, you shrugged off her grasp and climbed upon his chest.

Gently, you pressed your lips to his eyelids, as you had every morning, but this time, they did not flutter open. You tried again, confusion and fear creeping in. Perhaps he was simply exhausted, or taken ill? But as you looked upon him, your eyes welled with tears at the sight of the crimson that flowed like a river across his chest.

In a voice small and broken, you cried out to him, "Neteyam, what's wrong? Get up, please!"

Neytiri knelt beside you, her own tears flowing freely as she gathered you into her arms, shielding you from the harsh truth. "Neteyam has found Eywa,” she whispered. "He is no longer with us."

With hands small and trembling, you reached out to touch him one last time, to hold onto the memory of warmth that was now gone. Minutes passed as sobs wracked your tiny frame, still refusing to let go, to accept that he would not wake. You kept talking to him, calling his name softly, in the hopes that somehow, he would return to you.

From that day on, you would wear his rider's mask and ask your mother to braid your hair like his. You would stay on the beach for a long time, after the eclipse, to talk to him. You would tell him about your day and the problems you were facing. The spirit tree of the Metkayina would also become your favorite place, it would take you home to the Hometree where Neteyam would be waiting for you.

#avatar #avatar the way of water #awow #avatar headcanons #jake sully #neytiri #neteyam #lo'ak #kiri #tuk #tuktirey #headcanons #tsireya

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lottiecrabie · 26 days

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going off of your recent galatea ask - do you think she’d develop feelings for him again if they were in close proximity for an extended period of time again? idk just a theory :3

oh what a very interesting question! cracking my fingers Ok congress let’s get this discussion started (typical mad ramblings below the cut)

i think my first gut reaction would be yes, but solely because she would want to. when i went through a Very Galatea Moment this winter lol, i typed a beginning to a galatea take two in which they were working on her third album and she was specifically seeking him out as a producer to fall in love with him all over again and use that pain to fuel her. it was all written before sleep in one night so i don’t really know where i wanted to follow that emotional line, but i assume she would have revived her feelings — fully knowing and embracing she was pygmalion — and then maybe the pain of it would have been too masochist, or not enough, not album-of-the-year enough, and it’d feel meaningless. i don’t know!

thinking about it now though, i don’t really enjoy that idea, and i don’t think i would have ever followed it if i had actually decided to write galatea take two. much too straightforward, taking away all the nuance of the characters, all the tragedy that they accidentally fall face first into and realize only too late their mistakes.

this also brings up the question on if she ever actually loved him, the real him, and not the one she made up in her mind. we know that she romanticized him, that she made this grand summer love affair bigger than it was, and that by the end of august, she’s left reeling with the knowledge that she created him. it could make you wonder if it was all fantasy, if she really knew him, if she only loved the idea of him. then, if she was working on her third album with him, there would be nothing to fall back into; it was never there anyway. or, maybe, to the contrary, she’d know him without the theatrics she pushed onto him and fall in love with the real him. in which case it would theoretically be the very first time.

i don’t know if i’m satisfied with that one either. both side of the argument on if she loved him or not have merit (me saying ‘argument’ like it’s not just me and the voices lmao). i don’t think it’s as easy as saying people’s feelings are Fake just because they might have been mostly lived in their own minds. that’s still Something, and if it’s valid or not is up to you and your interpretation. i don’t think i’d ever had gone down the ‘ends up falling for the “real” him’ route either though, just because it’s a little too clean-cut and fairytale ending-y, the antithesis of galatea take one.

in the end, i do believe that she is, to her core, delusional and a dreamer and a romantic, and that she builds things up in her mind and invents meaning where there’s none. so yeah, i think she’d probably have feelings for him again, though it’d have almost nothing to do with him and more to do with her. she can’t help herself; she says she’s not listening to the instinct to romanticize him and wax poetics about his every little looks, but in the end it’s still there. at least until she’s worked on it, she’ll just fall back into her habits. but i think she could do it to and with other people in her life, not just matty.

tldr// yeah probably lol. but every theory is valid and has weight cos this is Galatea and it’s made to be Interpreted

#if u guys have different opinions lmk i’d love to hear them🤗#here she go again…….#galatea take one #ask

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katelynnwrites · 1 year

Text

series masterlist 💜

you were bigger than the whole sky (you were more than just a short time) was initially written during the nights where i couldn’t sleep, that’s how i got the idea in the first place.

i listened to a lot of music as i was writing it, music and writing were the two things that got me through the beginning of this year. it was a very emotional few months and i think this series reflects the emotions i was feeling at the time.

every chapter name is from a verse of the song that it is centred around. you’ll find multiple references to the lyrics of the chosen song in each chapter. there are six original chapters and five bonus chapters in this series

i actually think i left a piece of my heart in this fic. writing this was healing for me, i hope everyone who reads this completed work of 26,434 words enjoys reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it ❤️

⭒ Somewhere In The Haze (Got A Sense I’d Been Betrayed) ⭒

chapter one, your sweet dream with ona is over.

⭒ What Could’ve Been, Would’ve Been (What Should’ve Been You) ⭒

chapter two, you’ve got a lot to pine about and a lot to live without, now that ona has broken up with you.

⭒ Give Me A Minute (To Hold My Girl) ⭒

chapter three, in a crowded town or silent bed, you were always at your most comfortable with ona…you wonder if that still holds true now.

⭒ Look At Me, I’m A Star (You’re The Reason) ⭒

chapter four, it’s always the next person that gets the better version but maybe in this case you’ll be the one who gets the better version of ona.

⭒ Can You Keep Me Close? (Can You Love Me Most?) ⭒

chapter five, all you want is for someone to stay, keep you close and love you most. will ona be able to do so for you again?

⭒ I Find Myself Running Home (To Your Sweet Nothings) ⭒

chapter six, you find yourself running home to ona and her sweet nothings.

⭒ When You Are Young They Assume You Know Nothing (But I Knew You) ⭒

bonus chapter 1, when you are young, everyone assumes you know nothing but there’s one thing ona is sure she knows. she knows you.

⭒ I’m So In Love (That I Might Stop Breathing) ⭒

bonus chapter 2, when you’re with ona, it’s always like she transports you to somewhere else where it’s just you and her and the love you share for each other.

⭒ We’ve Been Doin’ All This Late Night Talkin’ (‘Bout Anythin’ You Want) ⭒

bonus chapter 3, an insight into the times where you and ona do a little late night talking, about anything you want until the morning and a briefer insight into the times where you and ona do a little less late night talking and more of another much loved late night activity.

⭒ Got My Mind On Your Body (And Your Body On My Mind) ⭒

requested, bonus chapter 4, you’ve constantly got ona’s body or more specifically her abs, on your mind and neither of you would have it any other way.

⭒ If You Ever Wanna Fall In Love, If You Ever Wanna Bet On Us, If You Ever Wanna Be My One (I’ll Be Waiting) ⭒

bonus chapter 5, also known as the story of how you fell in love with ona and how ona fell in love with you.

#ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle #woso imagine #woso x reader #muwfc imagine #muwfc x reader #espwnt x reader #espwnt imagine #spain wnt x reader #spain wnt imagine #katelynnwrites #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #series masterlist #you were bigger than the whole sky

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everyl1ttleth1ng · 15 days

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For reasons I will blame on a tweet that said “I just saw someone refer to TS and TK as ‘The English teacher and PE teacher getting it on’ AND I LOST MY MIND” and one of Taylor’s many amazing new songs on TTPD, “So High School,” it appears that I have joined the ranks of the psychos writing fanfiction about real people. We do AUs pretty well here on tumblr so, in this alternative universe of mine, the names, appearances and some elements of what is publicly known about these real people have been borrowed from actual reality and used to populate an entirely fictional story about teachers in a cross-discipline romance. Obvs I do not know any of my “actors” in real life and obvs this is not meant, in any way, to speculate about any of the named people’s actual lives. Also, some of my “actors” are just identified by their first names here but they are all played by real people in my head and you’ll probably pick ‘em if you’re even vaguely aware of actors, musicians and prominent figures across and around the NFL. And it’s set in the high school that Devi Vishwakumar goes to because, why not?

…

“She’s back,” announced Dalton, slumping into his chair and dropping his head dramatically onto his desk amid a tangle of whistles.

Pat chuckled. “Sorry dude, I was going to warn you but I never thought she’d agree to sub so soon after getting back into the country. Tammy must be desperate to cover classes. The poor girl’s probably still jet-lagged.”

“She doesn’t look jet-lagged,” muttered Dalton without lifting his head. “She looks like her perfect Disney Princess self, just more tanned from a year under the Spanish sun.”

“Dude,” said Pat, shaking his head. “Sometimes I wonder if PE is the right spot for you. You’re still young, it’s probably not too late to switch to something more dramatic.”

Travis looked from one colleague to the other. “What am I missing here?”

“Dalton has a crush,” said Pat. “It’s kind of endearing. She’s only a full decade older than he is and completely out of his league.”

“Shut up,” groaned Dalton.

“Knock, knock!” called a voice from the staff room doorway. “Paging Mr Travis Kelce.”

“English teachers?” said Travis, getting to his feet, his tone incredulous. “Are my eyes playing tricks on me or is that a pair of lost English teachers at our door? What are you two doing slumming it over on our side of the school?”

Dalton looked up in wide-eyed horror which quickly turned to relief when he saw which of the English teachers it was, or rather, wasn’t.

“Hey, Trav,” said Jack, accepting the embrace the bigger man offered with a grin and thumping him warmly on the back. “Em and I are worried we might have developed some kind of Stockholm Syndrome since our shared week on Grade Seven Camp. We really miss you, buddy.”

“Jack and all his pretentious poet friends are used to looking down on jocks. Now that he’s embroiled in a bromance with one, he’s finding it all very confusing.” Emma waited until Travis had released her from her hug before she added, “And we’re here to use you for your access to sports equipment.”

“Hurtful,” said Travis. “But it’s nice to have you guys visiting me in my staff room for a change. I kind of stick out like a sore thumb in yours.”

Jack snorted. “You know those old ladies love you.”

“They’ve started bringing in packets of those chocolate cookies you like just in case you pop by,” said Emma. “Better not leave them hanging, Trav.”

“Cookies, huh? Ok, I’ll be round tomorrow recess.”

“Nah, that won’t work,” said Emma. “Taylor swans in for thirty seconds this morning in a sleep-deprived haze-”

In the background Dalton surreptitiously lifted his head off the desk, the faint imprint of a whistle on his cheek.

“- mentions she watched Dead Poets Society on the plane ride home from Spain and suddenly they're all selecting extracts of poetry, dusting off an old gramophone and sending us over here to you lot to borrow some soccer balls.”

Travis looked from Jack to Emma with a bemused expression on his face. “Am I the idiot here if I have absolutely no idea what you two are talking about?”

“I know!” piped up Dalton. “Are you guys gonna recreate that scene with Robin Williams on the oval?” He nodded knowingly. “Iconic. I should tell Taylor I’m a fan too.”

Pat laughed. “Yeah, Dalton, you should. And maybe Taylor could come over while you watch the movie with your girlfriend. Remember her?”

Dalton glared at him then resignedly dropped his head back to the surface of his desk.

“Who’s Taylor?” asked Travis. “Is she another one of the old ladies with the cookies?”

Dalton scoffed dramatically, muffled though it was.

Pat cackled. “You okay there, Kinkaid?”

Emma pushed on Travis’ arm to get him moving. “C’mon, we’ve all gotta get to our homerooms eventually. We’ll explain while you take us to the soccer balls.”

…

“You are a lifesaver, my girl,” said Tammy, patting Taylor fondly on the arm. “I cannot thank you enough for coming in today.”

Taylor pushed her blonde hair out of her eyes and blinked sleepily. “What if I fall asleep on them? You don’t understand. I think it’s a real danger!”

Tammy laughed. “Hard to fall asleep in PE. Besides, you’re just there for the supervision ratio given that this is all of Grade 8 combined. Travis will have it all under control.”

“Travis?” asked Taylor. “Am I so tired that I’ve forgotten the name of a guy I’ve worked with for six years or is this someone new?”

Tammy looked up from her laptop in surprise. “Oooh, no, you wouldn’t have met Travis yet. He’s an old friend of Pat’s from college. Apparently they used to play football together. When Bill retired at the end of last year, Pat put in a call to his buddy and this place has not been the same since.”

Taylor nodded. “Ok, yes, this is sounding familiar. Britt did mention that some old friend of Pat’s had started at Sherman Oaks and that he was always at their place. I’m a bit worried he might have muscled into my spot at Friday Night Wine.”

Tammy considered her a moment. “So did you meet anyone in Spain? On your big single girl adventure?”

“I mean, I did.” Taylor shrugged. “He was nice, I guess, but nothing really came of it. We went our separate ways after a month or so. If I’d found the one, I might not have come home.” Taylor narrowed her eyes. “Hang on, why do you ask? What does this have to do with PE?”

Tammy patted her hand and handed her the class attendance papers. “You’ll see. Let’s go introduce you to Travis.”

“Okaaay,” said Taylor warily, as she followed Tammy dutifully out of her office. “You’re the boss, Mrs Reid. I’ll just grab a coffee and meet you there.”

…

The local school district’s baseball competition had half the PE staff out at a neighbouring school for most of the school day and long into the afternoon but Travis wasn’t worried, even in the face of all the Grade 8 PE classes combined. Tammy would find him a spare adult or two to stand around the edge of the gym and take care of supervision and he would get to teach more of his favourite unit - Grade 8 Dance. Last combined lesson they’d learned the Electric Slide and totally nailed it. Today he was gonna make the kids partner up and learn the Cha Cha.

He plugged his phone into the sound system and cued up his playlist of Latin beats, cranking the volume as high as it would go, then headed over to unlock the gym doors and usher in the waiting students.

“Mr Kelce?” a familiar voice called from the gym entrance once the students had all shuffled in.

Travis turned to see the wife of his former football coach, now one of the Sherman Oaks deputy principals, waving to him. “Mrs Reid!” he boomed back, dancing his way over to her. “Come and cha cha with me. Let’s show these kids how it’s done.”

The older woman laughed and said, “Why not?” momentarily placing her ever-present sheaf of paperwork on a table near the door and giving him her hand.

The kids whooped and cheered as they watched Travis demonstrate how to be the perfect dance partner. He had particularly high hopes for these Grade 8 boys. They sorely needed a good example of how to treat other people, especially girls, and he hoped he could fill that role for them. The song playing came to an end and he spun Tammy out into the middle of the floor so they could both bow extravagantly, hamming it up for the student reaction.

“Let’s thank my extraordinary partner one more time,” Travis called. “Give it up for Mrs Reid!”

Tammy waved and curtsied then grinned at Travis and made her way toward her pile of papers and the door.

“Ok, get yourself into the grid we learnt last week,” Travis instructed as he walked over to the sound system to cue up Shania Twain’s Man, I Feel Like a Woman. “We’re gonna warm up with a few rounds of the Electric Slide and I know that you guys are awesome at this so make sure to give it your own flair!”

He cued up a few songs to follow, mainly chosen to give the students a laugh. He chuckled to himself as he selected Vanilla Ice’s Ice Ice Baby and Kool and the Gang’s Get Down On It.

Raising his eyes from his phone and looking over the heads of the line dancing students, he saw a statuesque blonde woman walk through the gym doors, a huge smile on her face as she took in their enthusiastic movement.

“Ms Swift?” cried out one of the girls. “You’re back!”

“Hi, Sophie!” she replied, waving as she made her way around the outside of the grid towards Travis. “Keep dancing! We’ll catch up later!”

Travis suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands. He barely stopped himself from shoving his phone into the pocket of his shorts and disconnecting the cable to the sound system.

“Hi,” she said as she drew near, smiling broadly and holding out a hand to him. “I’m Taylor.”

“Travis,” he replied, taking her slender hand in his. “Nice to meet you.”

…

“Hey Trav,” said Jack, wearily looking up from the pile of papers he was grading. “Em’s around here somewhere if you’ve come to get the soccer balls back. Thanks for that by the way.”

Travis waved a hand. “No rush. Was it a success? Should I be worried I’m gonna lose half my football team to poetry or whatever?”

Emma’s head appeared over the top of the partition dividing their desks. “Not if their essays are anything to go by,” she said dryly, yanking off her massive headphones.

“Oh, hey, Em. Didn’t see you there.”

She gestured with the headphones. “That was kind of the idea. I was laying low. But then I remembered how much I hate marking and how much more fun it is talking to you.”

Travis grinned. “So, it seems you two left out a crucial piece of information when you were talking up your pal, Taylor, this morning.”

Both sets of tired eyes lit up.

“You’ve met her already?” asked Jack excitedly. “What did we leave out?”

Travis rubbed at the back of his neck, smiling shyly. “Neither of you told me she was gorgeous.”

Emma whooped. “I’m gonna get some of those cookies.”

Jack grinned, shoving his pile of papers aside and leaning back in his desk chair. “Tell us everything,” he said.

#tayvis #travis kelce #taylor swift #travis kelce taylor swift #fanfiction

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ball0fhoney · 1 year

Note

i think I might be the one who asked for Lyle X reader, but for fuck sake I forgot what I wrote there, probably Lyle X human!scientist!reader where he caught feeling for her and trying to show reader this, but she is like am I making this up and yeah them finally understand each other and maybe some smut at the end. If I wasn't this person sorry for wasting your time, also that's shame that half of your fanfic disappeared, and I hope you have a wonderful day

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈➤ ❝𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩?❞

☛ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏

𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊: okay this one will be spread through more chapters because I suddenly got inspired. sorry it took me a while because I struggled with motivation for some time but I'm really trying!! there will be some smut in the later chapters so don't worry. anyways I hope you'll like it! love you!

𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘: fluff for now, goofy Lyle, therapy stuff, mentions of seizure

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭

✧. ┊ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭

⋆ ★

You yawned as you struggled to keep yourself awake in the lab. Empty cups of coffee were sitting further away on a table, and papers were scattered across the floor. Come on, stay awake. It'll be worth it. You tried to encourage yourself to gain a bit more motivation to finish this research as your eyelids started to close under their own weight. It was quite likely the greatest research ever done in history. You, along with your team, are working on a transfer of human consciousness.

It'll be the next miracle discovered by humanity. Another wall ready to be broken on the way to discovering the truth. Big questions lie behind this important research. What is consciousness? What comes after death? Is God real? In the end, what is the meaning of life and how is it created? You exhaled nervously as the key moment was nearing.

There was a body of a mouse swimming in liquid, peacefully sleeping in his artificial mother's womb. The key ingredient needed to complete this being was a soul. The mouse has to be taken out of the womb in order for the experiment to work. After that, you switched your attention from the mouse to the Soul Drive that contained this precious ingredient.

"It's currently 4:22 AM. Thursday. Year 2154. Location Pandora. Project Phoenix." You said after turning on the camera.

"I will now begin the test on a prototype mouse." By exhaling and inhaling deeply, you managed to keep yourself calm. You reached out to take the Soul Drive into your hands and show it to the camera. It was no bigger than a USB stick. You felt a sense of respect for that object, no matter how insignificant it may have looked at first. It wasn't some gigantic engine that could, by just looking at it, create a sense of awe and greatness in you. This small thing possessed the power of a human mind—well, in this case, a mouse—and a soul.

You plugged it into a nearby machine that had wires connected to the head of a mouse. It would transmit electric impulses into the brain, in turn generating consciousness. The machine started buzzing with electric energy circulating inside of it.

"The chosen subject is ready to undergo the final test." You flipped on the switches that allowed the electricity to pass through the wires and into the mouse brain. The mouse twitched and his breathing sped up. You checked the monitor, noticing the heart rate speeding up as well. This should be fine, for now. During the transfer of consciousness, the body experiences a small seizure. A body response to new and unusual things happening to it. It should calm down after a while, once it gets adjusted and the body accepts the soul that inhabited it.

And just as planned, the mouse's twitching and spasming calmed down. You felt a relief and exhaled the air that has been stuck in your lungs. Soon the mouse started wiggling and opening it's eyes, looking dizzy and confused. The monitor showed stable brain waves which meant the test ended successfully.

You tried to control your excitement by biting on your tongue. If you could, you'd jump around, laugh and call everybody in to come and see it, screaming eureka down the halls. But this science experiment required a dose of formality. You smiled at the camera and quickly shifted your gaze down on the newborn mouse.

"The test is successful. It is indeed possible."

✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

Years later, after months of repeating the same test on mice and other, human like creatures, it has been approved to move onto experiments with humans. Similarly, the recoms, new bodies for human souls, were kept on a gentle blue light, provided in the tank that aided the recom's skin formation.

The fluid itself was of similar chemical composition to Pandora's oceans, a nutrient-rich broth circulating through an artificial placenta. After decantation, the artificial placental matrix and umbilical cord were removed and the wound healed naturally over the course of a few days.

When "born" they are not sentient and without personalities of their own. Their higher brain functions operate only through a psionic link with a human driver or a permanent transferal of consciousness via Soul Drive.

✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

You entered the room with sleeping recom bodies laid out naked on the tables, covered only in thin cloth. The job was to examine them for any health issues before they wake up. They have already gained consciousness but were put under temporary coma, for safety reasons. You took blood samples from every recom and checked their pulse and blood pressure, measured the length of their tails and ears etc.

They were all tall with blue skin, bioluminescent markings and large eyes with golden irises. Their names were written on each bed for you to memorize before they wake up. Mansk, Prager, Brown, Zdinarsk... ah, the leader, Quaritch. His face was muscular, chin chiseled and masculine. He even had thick brows that popped on his blue tan. The stripes looked dark and almost threatening. Like the pattern of a poisonous snake or a frog. Right next to him lay his right-hand man, comrade, and brother in arms.

"Lyle Wainfleet."

You caught yourself saying it out loud, and nervousness overwhelmed you internally as if you were scared that he and the others might've heard you even though they're are deep in sleep. You shook off the feeling and approached him a little closer to take a look at his facial features.

He had very expressive cheekbones and forehead muscles, looking buff and bumptious. His chin had a little trench that split it in two. Bald head stuck out the most. Not the most attractive feature, you thought. You sat next to him to feel his pulse. It's working all right. Check. The skin on his neck felt warm and soft, untouched and unscarred.

Next was the blood pressure. You reached out to grab the monitor and wrap up his biceps with a cuff. Recoms had massive arms, and so you struggled a bit to get it right. His biceps glowed in the white light of the reflectors. There was a tattoo on his shoulder showing a skull with a helmet on saying "No fear". This guy has interesting tattoos. There was another one on his chest saying "Born to kill" with didn't amaze you too much. Blood pressure. Check.

When all the tests were proven to be correct it was time to initiate their actual wakening of the recoms. Each recom woke up that day. Among first candidates being Lyle himslef.

He started to open his eyes with a drunk look on his face. It took him a while to snap into reality so he only grunted and blinked confusingly. Suddenly a rush of adrenaline overwhelmed him as he started to notice the environment around him shaking himself out of this fog.

There were humans watching him with exo packs on. He didn't feel it on his face though, and they all looked kind of smaller in comparison to him. Something is wrong, he thought. The sound was deafened and his vision still a little blurry but he could differentiate the humans around him.

A person flashed a light in his eye to check if they respond to a light change. He moved his head to the side and raised a hand to move the flash away from him. As he raised it in front of his face he realised - Wait, I'm- blue?

He felt the sudden need to get up and stand on his feet. The doctors and scientist encircled him, trying to prevent him from getting up.

"Sir, you need to keep on laying, this is a big change for you." Lyle sat up and noticed his blue legs. There was something moving in the back. He looked over his shoulder to notice a tail with a little dark puffy end.

"Uh oh, what is this? What have you done? Is this some trick?" He asked in a low tone, trying to stay composed but he had so many questions to ask and no answers to be heard. All he remembered was being a human and now he's suddenly in a body of his enemy. He noticed that his ears are more sensitive to sound, also able to move unlike human ears. The crowd around him became louder and doctors were running to sedate him.

Then you appeared, somehow manged to squeeze in between all the doctors and scientists to reach Lyle.

"Nobody is allowed here except for the recom science team! Everybody get out!" People slowly exited the doors and the crowd became smaller and smaller, giving more space for Lyle to breathe. He blinked a few times to take a better look at your face.

"You're going to be okay. I'm sorry, this was extremely unprofessional of them. I'm here to introduce you to your new body, give you a little tutorial on how everything works. I imagine you're very confused right now." Lyle was sitting on a table rubbing his eyes.

"Correct. Will you get to the point already? What happened? I was human moments ago." You were silent for a minute, thinking of a way how to tell him the information without triggering him.

"You're a recombinant now. Don't stress too much about it. I know it sounds silly but your memories will soon come back and everything will make sense. You're still in a dazed state. We'll do some exercises to help you regain your memories faster. Do you remember your comrade Zhang? He woke up moments ago just like you. You're not alone." You gave him a small smile of encouragement.

"Zhang? Zhang! Yes I remember him. We were together in a lab last time I recall." A lab? What was I doing in a lab, I'm a marine. Oorah.

"You can visit him later. Now, I gotta ask you some questions." You said, pulling up a script and clicking a pen. Lyle raised his brow in amusement. So professional.

"Look, let me spare you some time. I'm fine! I feel... reborn, literally." He chuckled at his own pun expecting to see a positive reaction on your face too. Instead, you just gave him a serious look and stared at him in silence for a few seconds and huffed. He felt stupid and his ears moved backwards subconsciously.

"Ears working fine. Check." You said in a monotone, disinterested voice and wrote a tick on your notes.

"Tsk. No, why don't you check out these muscles sweetheart?" He flexed and smiled cunningly looking down at you. Well, those biceps are big not going to lie, you thought.

"Don't call me that." You insisted with a glare as he scratched the back of his head, disappointed with your answer.

"Okay what can I call you then?" Lyle asked in a quiet voice leaning forward.

"You'll refer to me as ma'am, for now." You said while writing down some notes.

"For now?" He sniggered playfully and his tail wagged behind him.

"Okay, I can tell you're doing good. Very talkative, energetic and enthusiastic. Ready for a mission. I gotta go check on other recoms so-"

You pointed towards the door with your pen after closing the notebook and started heading towards the exit. Lyle got up to stop you and the wires that were connected to his head and neck got pulled on.

"Wait, wait, wait! OUCH! Damnit! What- what mission?" He jumped up after you.

"Think of it as a, tropical vacation. No but seriously, Quaritch should explain the details. See ya." You headed off, leaving Lyle with his thoughts. Quaritch...

Even though you told him he's fine and ready to go, the two of you still needed to go through the protocol and do the exercises. He must be ready for anything. All of them have to.

✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

As you walked down the halls with boxes and a bunch of paper work in them, you passed next to the recom gym. There were recoms working out, doing final touches to their already perfectly formed muscles. You noticed Zdinarsk getting up from a bench press and grabbing a bottle of water to refresh herself. Her place took Brown and you could tell on her face that she was feeling angry about that.

"Brown... I didn't finish my sets yet. I'm only taking a short break." She slammed the towel off her shoulder down to her knee.

"I'll be quick!" he brushed off as he slid under the weights and began lifting them above his naked chest.

"I know this trick and you've used it far too many times it's starting to sound naïve. Get off." She grumbled out. Brown only let out a huff of exhaustion as he pushed the weights up.

"My muscles are cooling down... Final warning." She threatened, wrapping the towel around her fist making sure Brown sees it. He let out short a wheeze as if saying 'yea right'. Then suddenly when he stopped paying attention to her, she threw a towel in his face and he was forced to put off the weights. He got surprised and sat up quickly, removing the towel and throwing it back at her.

"Are you crazy? Trying to kill me? It could've slipped off my hands onto my head, I could've died, do you realise that?" Brown exclaimed irritated.

"Yea yea, with those weights? Those are rookie numbers." She brushed off his whining and sat back down on a bench press as he got up.

"Well I didn't change the weights. You worked with them too."

"I was just warming up." She said as she was putting on the bigger weights, smiling at him and popping a gum.

"Don't mess with Z-Dog man." Lyle joined the show and pat Brown on the shoulder. Brown was prone to sulking for 5 minutes maximum and then forgetting about it later pretty quickly. You could say he was a real drama queen.

Lyle turned around and accidentally spotted you watching them. You made eye contact with him and felt adrenaline coruse through your body. Shit, this is embarrassing. He waved to you but you couldn't wave back because your arms were busy holding these stupid boxes and papers. Oh now this is even worse. You gave him an awkward forced smile not knowing how to react and hurried away before he or someone else decided to walk out of the gym.

"It's the science lady?" Quaritch asked after sitting down on a bench to take a breath, sweat dripping down his forehead.

"Yep." He said watching you waddle off awkwardly. "She is something you know." He said sarcastically then turned to face colonel and drink some water.

"Sounds very dedicated to her job."

"Boring." Lyle said looking away and Quaritch gave him a serious glare. He looked back at him and chuckled.

"You've got to see the look on your face." He said wiping off water that was sliding down his chin.

"You don't wanna do that again Lyle, but you got me gotta admit." Subtle smile appeared on Quaritchs face.

✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

On your first weekly meet up, Lyle came on time, wearing his usual clothes. Olive green tanktop and cargo pants. He made himself comfortable on a bigger chair.

"Greetings, ma'am." He said while sitting down.

"Good evening, sir."

He pushed his torso forward, supporting himself with elbows on the knees. His ID tag was hanging down his neck, swinging as he moved.

"Soo any unusual symptoms to report? Dizziness? Insomnia? Nightmares? Hallucinations?" You asked, speeding up when listing the symptoms because you remembered the awkward interaction.

"I'm good as new."

"Well that's good to hear. What about diet? Any allergies?"

"Had a good deal of allergies in my past human life, this new body seems to be imune to everything. Haven't found out if it's bullet proof yet."

"Yeaaa hopefully you won't have to find that out." You gave him a concerned look with widened eyes.

"You know I'm not really used to this, therapy session thing. I'm not, the type to open up and stuff. I'm a marine." He pointed to his chest, feeling proud of calling himself like that.

"Valid, but being a marine isn't supposed to prevent you from feeling emotions like every living creature."

"No, no, no, no. I have emotions and I'm pretty emotional myself have to admit but, like - I don't like venting. Is that what my squad does when they come over here?"

"I- I'm not allowed to talk about client's problems with my other clients. It's strictly prohibited." You clicked your pen.

"Right." He nodded slowly.

"Just know that, I'm a professional and I'm here to help all of the recom squad as much as I can. It is my job to prepare you for whatever it is out there. Not physically, but mentally. And if you want to be able to handle it, you've gotta clear your mind from all the other negative, unimportant stuff taking space in your head."

"Yea, I'm pretty sure I'm good. You don't wanna know the horror stories I already went through in my carrier. But thank you."

"Noticed that. Excessive humour proves it, it's a coping mechanism." You wrote something down in your notes.

You sneaky little- He thought and his ears went backwards.

"It's a talent, an art. That's a better perspective." He exclaimed, scratching his lower jaw.

The usual meet up looked something like that. They would come over to you. You'd question them about any health issues and after that you'd have normal conversation with them.

The recoms are indeed tough people and you had to come up with new tricks how to break their shell to get them to confide to you. Some were easier to break, some harder.

You had to admit, Quaritch was the biggest challenge. That man is made out of steel, nearly impossible to pierce through.

And then there was Mansk. He'd always come in wearing shades but the moment he took them off he turned into a different person. With shades on, you would've thought he'd be the same deal as Quaritch but once he took them off, a friendly look in his eyes sparked through and sometimes you even felt like he's the one having a therapy session with you.

Meanwhile, Lyle was charismatic and fairly easy to crack open. Whenever you got the chance to touch on the sensitive topic of his childhood you explained to him why he might feel that way now in the adulthood. He always brushed off with "Meh... Doesn't matter." but you knew it mattered to him and that he secretly listened to every advice you told him so that he remembers it.

"Wish I had this kind of mentality back then. I'd crack his skull open." He huffed in irritation as he remembered some past events in his life.

"No, it doesn't matter anymore what happened back then. You grew into a person capable of many things and that's what matters." You tried to convince him.

"I was a weakling..." He gritted his teeth.

✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

After months of interaction you two got closer and closer to each other. To be fair, he was really consistent in your weekly meetups, for scientific purposes of course. He was even happy to come over and chat just about anything really.

Whenever he came over he'd crack a dad joke in hope to make you giggle. It worked, sometimes, because for you that was a commodity. No time for jokes, no time for rest nor peace. He is a subject, not a friend. You fought hard within yourself and it was difficult to maintain a professional distance between you and him, specially with Lyle who's prone to making scandals and unpredictable actions.

He came to your office one day, smile wide across his face as usual and- "a flower?" You flinched as he stood in front of you impatiently, as if he had something to say to you but the words were stuck in his throat.

"This is our last meeting so, I decided to bring you this flower as a sign of... our, partnership and cooperation. Thank you for tutoring me through this, new bigass body of mine." He let out a chuckle.

"I really appreciate all of the effort you put in me for months and I appreciate your patience for a scumbag like me, who did all kinds of stupid shit, so please, accept this humble flower." He crouched down on your eye level and put a flower in front for you to take.

You stood still for a moment, thinking about all the memories you two made together. He leaned his head to the side, losing hope that you might not accept his gift, that maybe you wanted something grander than a simple flower...

To be continued... c:

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