#i was always right to love you anubis | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bruhhxiao · 18 days

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Like when we were younger

(sfw/nsfw)

paring Anubis x step-sister!reader

! warnings: paring sister reader x brother Anubis=incest (they are related by Osiris), depression, violence(?), (Y/N used) !

requested by @gongyunlian

“Try to convince him Y/N, please…”

“uncle Seth it’s not like I enjoy this situation, my brother looks like another person” You told him walking in circle as he sat on his throne.

“Osiris changed him! My only son…” you patted Seth shoulder.

“Hours… Hours says it’s better this way..” You whispered

“He’s wrong! And you know Y/N!”

After you left Seth you went to visit your mother Isis, she fall in a deep state of sleep since your father Osiris was killed by Seth. She loved your father and she raised Anubis like her biological son, like Hours and became gods. Osiris betrayed her after all the love she gave and showed to him… she forgive him after she knew about Anubis real father.

“I promise mother, I will try to take him back.” You caressed her right cheek.

A few days later you went to Anubis temple, it was a chilly night and it was quieter than usual.

“Anubis can I have a word with you?” You knelt in front of his statue, but this time he didn’t show up like he used to. You were the most close compared to Hours. You were siblings and we never been against each other. You were one thing.

“Please I have something to tell you..” You last said before leaving the temple walking bare foot on the cold sand of the desert.

“Can you please stop following me and talk normally?” You said looking at your shadow watching Anubis coming out of it. He just stood in front of you silent.

“Look at yourself. You never talk, you always hide your face under this mask even when we are alone… where did my brother go?” You tried to reach his mask to take it off but he snapped your hand leaving you speechless.

“Your father is worried! Hours knows something i don’t. Tell me Anubis, tell me please…”

“Seth is no longer my father I don’t need to go see him” he disappeared dissolving into the darkness of his shadow.

You were bathing playing with the blue lotus that you brought with you into the bath. You were a god, the god of protection, anxiety, perfection and purity. The blue lotus was your symbol, your blessing. You probably inherited this specialty from your father and you remembered how you and Anubis played with this flower when you were younger and far from the responsibility of your journey.

“Why are you so stubborn..”

“He is keeping you safe…” You look on the side you stop Hours sitting on the balcony of the chamber looking at the red sky.

“From what Hours? He is hurting himself standing by the one who made him like that”

“You don’t get it! He wants to see Seth suffer! Watching his most important ones standing by his side!” Hours shouted flying away leaving you even more confused, how could Osiris hurt his own son to take revenge over Seth.

“You said you wouldn’t never leave me..” You said thinking about the promise you and Anubis made when you were young.

You went to his temple again sitting in front of his well sculpted stone that was made for prayers towards the god. You left a gift like human do, you left a blue lotus.

When you went back to your mother you saw Anubis talking to her leaving a blue lotus. As he was about to disappear you dashed to him grabbing his mask revealing his long curly black hair, his shocked expression made you ran through the hallway leaving the servants confused. He chased you by the shadows trying to get his mask back.

“Now you know how I felt when I was younger!” That’s right he used to tease you taking away your toys or food and made you ran for minutes until you ended up crying but that was actually an excuse to be close to you, to cuddle you, to protect you.

“Y/N…” He groaned stepping close.

You took off your mask showing your features that Anubis couldn’t see after he became a god. He grew up so you did but he didn’t expect to find you as beautiful as the first time he saw you but there was something that he never felt when he was younger. You wore his mask was jumping around your chamber trying to escape.

“I look good right? You can take mine if you wan-“ He grabbed you by the gold necklace and he pinned you to the wall.

He took the mask and he threw it on the floor, you were surprised by his actions but he didn’t give you time to realized what had happen that he grabbed your cheek pulling you against his lips. The kiss wasn’t aggressive but you could feel the desire. He picked you up caressing your hips to your breast. He snapped back making you land on your feet leaving you breathless.

He grabbed his mask walking out of the chamber. He was speechless, he was angry and guilty at same time… he hated himself for this.

“what about Isis? Please help her Anubis!” You shouted as he disappeared in the shadows.

You were walking in the dark desert a hand grabbed your ankle from the could orange sand. Anubis hand.

“Your mother.” He says as a tear falls down on your cheek

“she woke up.” He continued as his hand melted in shadows and sand.

When you arrive Isis was sitting on the edge of her bed next to her was Nephtys consoling her.

“Mother!” You shouted running towards her but your aunt Nephtys stopped you.

“Y/N! Have you seen Anubis?” She asked a bit worried looking first Isis and then back to you. You nodded.

Your back laid against the cold wall near the balcony, head lost in thoughts until a cold hand holds your shoulder.

silent as always.

“What is wrong with you!” You say angrily without even turning to see who he was. You knew, you could tell by his touch. You stood up taking off your mask grabbing his black tie pulling him near you.

”What happened to you…” You started again until he snapped his black soft curls hiding his expression, teeth biting into his lips almost about to bleed.

“Anubis..” You called softly grabbing his cheek making him look at you as you freed his eyes from the hair.

As you leaned closer caressing his cheek trying to read into his eyes he liked his lips.

“He’s gonna hurt you…” he finally spoke leaning closer to your face.

“I don’t want him to hurt you.” He continued.

He leaned close, lips crushing into yours with his hand behind your neck. As you kissed him back he pushed off. He grabbed your hips picking you up.

“I won’t let him…”

He says as he reveals your breast massaging it as he kisses your neck. He brings you to the bed laying on top kissing every inch of your body.

“you’re so soft”

He said dry as he kissed you to your lips to your hips. He takes your bottom off making you jolt by his sudden action. You covered your body calling his name for once making him snap from his fantasy…

He doesn’t say anything he kisses you cuddles you going from your neck to your hips. He kisses your intimacy softly and slowly as brings a finger inside by surprise.

He added another finger thrusting slowly but steadily while his lips leave kisses on your tummy.

He pulls the fingers out and flip you with your belly against the mattress. His chest pressed against your back as he goes inside making you arch your back.

“I can’t hold it anymore” He says while your fists clenched on the linen sheets.

He waits a few seconds before he starts moving holding your belly with his hand while you cry out the pain that becomes pleasure in no time. Anubi is gently but gives you every inch of him as he kisses your back to your neck kissing it, sucking it, biting it. He slipped out making you turn and face him.

“my baby…” you mumbled you use to tease him every time back in the past, tease his protective side as the older brother.

He grabbed your hand and he kissing it before leaning down kissing your lips while caressing you cheek.

He hugs you tightly as he goes back in with his face pressed in your neck leaving marks and wet kisses trying to hide his moans. You arch your back as you’re getting closer and he thrusts deep. He bumps his nose into yours as the thrusts became slower but stronger taking away your breath. He holds tightly as you both came together.

After a few second he leans down and kisses your lips and then laying on top of you resting his head on your chest as you stroke his curly hair while you looked outside at the dark blue sky.

It reminded you when you used to spend time with him in the past where he would let you cuddle him so you would stop complaining, but it was an excuse for him to be close to you and spoil him with your affection and cuteness. He knew that in the future you would cuddle him with stronger feelings.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Henlooo guys this is such an unlucky day! First I want to apologize to @gongyunlian for taking months to upland their request but I had some family issues. And I finished the story this morning but I was such in a hurry that most of the finale got deleted so I had to rewrite it, so apologize if it’s boring or doesn’t make sense at all. Small reminder, English isn’t my first language so ignore the grammar mistakes if there are any. LOVE YA<3 and feel free to ask something request are open!

#ennead #ennead anubis #seth ennead #ennead seth #ennead x reader #anubis #horus #egyptian gods #manwha characters x reader #manhwa #webtoon #seth x reader #horus x reader #anubis x reader #ennead anubis x reader #god anubis #fictional characters

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astroboots · 1 year

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RED FLAGS ║ PART 11

CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Pairing: Steven Grant x female reader x Marc Spector (x hints of Jake Lockley)

Summary: You overhear things you were not meant to hear. Or alternatively: The girls boys are fighting.

Content: mild angst, lots of eavesdropping on secrets.

Word Count: 6.9k words

Series Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | Thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[PREVIOUS] - [NEXT]

The music box sits atop of the wooden counter. For a love song, it’s such a sad and melancholic melody. Made sadder by the off-key note that clangs jarringly five seconds in, after you've wound up the music box to watch the little deformed Anubis inside twirl.

It's oddly mesmerising in a meditative sort of way, how it keeps spinning round and round with nowhere to go.

Doing the same thing over and over again.

Stuck.

Has Anubis always looked so unhappy?

Steven's hand brushes against your back, interrupting your musing, and you jump in your seat despite the gentleness of his touch. Looking up, you find him standing in front of you with a worried frown.

"You're going to be late for work, love," he says, "It’s nearly eight-forty."

"Shit." You’ve lost track of time, fiddling too long with the music box.

You glance at the table where Steven has already stacked your plate. Two pieces of charred marmite toasts sit atop his emptier plate as he's walking over to the sink. A pang of guilt sits in your chest at the sight of it.

Despite the effort Steven had gone through, getting up early and having it ready for you by the time you woke up, you've hardly even taken a bite of your breakfast.

You rush forward, wanting to at least help him clean the plates, but Steven waves you off with a shake of his head.

"It's all right, love. You go ahead, don't want you to be late. I'll clear this up. Donna can't possibly get madder at me than she already is."

There's a forced smile twisting his lips, and when you don't make any moves to go, Steven sets down the dishes in the sink and walks back over to you.

"Have a good day at work today," he says and tips his head, pressing his lips to your forehead. "I don't want you to worry about anything alright? Everything will sort itself out."

It feels like deja vu when he says it, and for a second you worry, because the last time you heard this sentiment aimed at you, the man who said it disappeared without any physical trace.

As if he can sense your apprehension, Steven continues, giving your hand a gentle nudge. "Go on, love. I'll pick you up after work, and we’ll order something nice for take out tonight."

Despite your hesitance, you find yourself nodding as you head towards the front door. The sound of porcelain clinking together and kitchen clutter continues in the background as you click the door shut behind you.

The hallway is dimly lit and gloomy as you make your way down to the lift.

Once inside, it’s quiet except for the whirring of mechanical gears from above. It’s almost like being trapped in a music box of your own, except that Steven’s building isn’t fancy enough to have elevator music. There's nothing to distract you here. No twirling Anubis. No melodies. The only thing keeping you company is your own thoughts and memories.

‘Marc, I mean it. I miss you.’

The memory of your own words seems to echo between your ears, and you cringe, shaking your head in an attempt to make it stop. You're restless, the cuticles of your nails itching to be picked as you try to push yesterday's telephone call from your mind. Trying to mute your own pleading voice from playing on an endless loop.

‘I'm in love with you– ’

You’re desperate for a distraction, but the cramped lift offers no distraction. There are mirrors on both walls, and endless Xerox copies of your own reflection stare back at you, repeating off into infinity. There’s no place here to hide from yourself.

‘–You don’t have to love me the same way. Just come back.’

Your hand comes to your left wrist, seeking something to fidget with to calm your nerves, but the familiar leather strap of your watch is missing. Your forearm is bare.

Oh, for god's sake. Where have you gone and lost the bloody thing now?

As soon as you think it, you realise where it must be. Can see the watch in your mind's eye, sitting on the porcelain edge of the bathroom sink, right where you left it when you took it off to shower last night. You sigh, pressing the button of the lift back to the fifth floor. This time as the lift ascends the floor, you fix your gaze on the menacing bright red LED sign indicating the floor level, refusing to look into the mirrors on either side of you.

‘Please. I miss you.’

The lift door pings open, mercifully interrupting the replay, and you briskly retrace your steps. You’re so focused on retrieving the watch—and ignoring the unwelcome memories—that you barely register that Steven’s no longer in the kitchen. It’s not until you’re brought up short by the closed loo door that you realise it’s not going to be quite that simple.

Looking down, you can see the light streaming under the door is cut by a shadow’s flickering movement inside. Steven’s gone to the loo. That’s all well and good—nothing out of the ordinary— except the fact that your watch, which you would very much like to wear to work, is in there with him.

You sigh.

You’re already going to be late as it is, but you can’t very well barge in on him in the loo, now can you? The poor man would have a heart attack.

You contemplate your options, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, and you have to resist the impulse to tap your feet like some grumpy old biddy. Trying for patience, you take a few steps back, dragging your eyes away from the bathroom to stare blindly off towards the empty kitchen corner.

There’s not much to look at, just the morning sun streaming in the window to illuminate the pile of sauce-stained dishes waiting to be washed. Your eyes linger anyway. Your mind fills in the gap with an echo of Marc as you’re used to seeing him, standing at the sink or stove, his back to you, outlined in the soft early light. All that’s missing is his voice calling out a soft greeting.

And for a moment, you think you can hear him—his all-familiar American accent echoing from your memories. Better his than yours. Better the voice you've been missing like an amputated limb this entire time he’s been gone.

“You need to stop.”

You jerk upright because that’s new.

You’re no stranger to the flat, demanding tone, but you can’t trace the words back to any memory of what Marc has said to you before.

That means it’s real.

You whip your head back in the direction of the loo where the voice is coming from.

It’s muffled. The volume muted by the door, but you’d recognise that grumpy, impatient voice anywhere. Been replaying it enough in your mind, that you could pick the owner out of a blind lineup based on sound alone. And you can definitely identify it now in the quietness of Steven’s flat, where it’s just you and him.

Marc.

The room seems to narrow to a needle point, the colours blurring into each other until all you can see is the bathroom door. Excitement rushes to your head and everything feels fast and slow all at once.

Marc is in there.

Your legs threaten to buckle, and the wooden flooring underneath your feet seems to sink and warp into porous sand with each step forward. Then you’re standing there, in front of the loo, separated from him only by a few feet and the thin wood panelling of the accordion door, so ancient and flimsy-looking that a gust of wind could knock it down.

You want to knock it down. You raise a shaky hand to hover just above the surface.

All you want is to grab the handle, fling it open and see Marc again. Not as you have these past months, through the lens of the memory—either your own wistful, wishful thinking or the echoes of him that have been haunting your daily life.

You need the reality of him. To see him in the flesh and bone. Marvel at the ever-present scowl as he tips his head in irritation. That deep furrow between his brow when he’s consumed in some task. The rare half-smile that never fails to make you feel like you’ve won a rare prize at the carnival when you’ve manage to coax it out of him.

But you can’t.

Because you know how that will go. Even if Marc is in there, cornered in the loo, the moment he knows you're here and aware of him, he'll spirit himself away like he did last time.

So you stay there, hand raised, feet frozen to the floor, staring down at the shifting shadow visible through the wide gap like it’s shadow puppet theatre, trying to discern the plot as you listen in.

“This is how things are now. It’s better for both of you that I’m not around.”

He sounds tired, weariness weighing down his words, and your throat aches. You don’t need X-ray vision to guess how Marc’s shoulders must be slumped, his hand rubbing over his face and jaw in frustration.

The worst part is that you know Marc well enough to know that he truly believes what he is saying. Believes that his presence is a burden. That just by being here, he’s causing everyone trouble.

He thinks he’s doing everyone a favour by not being around, and there’s nothing you or Steven can say that will make him believe otherwise. You know that. But it doesn’t mean you want to say it any less.

You want to break down the door, take him by those broad shoulders, and shake him until his head wobbles as you scream that he’s wrong. That he would be nothing but good for you.

Because being around Marc makes you happy. Sitting next to him, watching him sip the “rubbish” coffee you’ve made him, makes your chest light up. Seeing his puzzled expression when you make a pop culture reference he doesn’t know makes you smile. And even though you’re not a morning person, he makes you look forward to waking up early because you know you get to spend those extra ten minutes with him. Marc makes you happy.

It goes quiet behind the door, and you can’t hear his voice anymore. Maybe Steven is arguing back. You hope so. You hope that Steven is rebutting Marc’s misguided beliefs the way you desperately want to.

Maybe for once Marc is actually listening.

"She doesn't know what she's asking for, Steven.”

Maybe not, the stubborn bastard.

His voice is pained, and you tilt your forehead forward until it makes contact with the doorframe, hovering as close as you dare. It’s not like it makes any difference; not like he can sense you from behind the door—nor would you want him to, given the flight risk. But your heart hurts for him, and you just want to be closer to him in any way you can, despite the divider between you.

“If I'm around it'll just mess everything up for–” He stops suddenly like maybe Steven has cut him off. Then there’s a grunt of protest, followed by, "Steven… That's not– Steven."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Steven!" This time he sounds almost angry, his voice is low and venomous. And whatever Steven says next must really strike a nerve, because Marc hisses, “Shut up, shut up! Shut UP!" the volume rising to a crescendo with his agitation.

It takes you by surprise, and you jump back, nearly tripping over your own feet in the process. Then you scramble back to the door, pressing as close as you dare. Worried that you’ve missed part of the conversation because you can’t hear Marc anymore.

“Look, maybe if you just, like... chill the eff out for a second, we can talk things over, yeah?”

That’s not Marc at all.

Instead, it’s Steven's warm South-Londoner accent spilling through the door. They must have switched.

“You can't keep doing this. You know that right?” Steven demands. “What's your grand master plan here, mate? Hiding during the day and sneaking out like a burglar in the dead of night...? A bit cowardly, isn't it? You have to know that’s not gonna work long term."

If Marc was angry, then Steven sounds properly hacked off, his patience on the last string, worn so thin it’s a surprise it hasn’t already snapped. This is clearly not the first, or even second time, they’ve had this conversation. Apparently the fact that he's been talking to Marc is one of those things Steven "can't tell you right now." You wonder how many times they've had this same argument. From the sound of things, you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Steven has tried again and again without being able to even inch Marc to budge from his stubborn position.

"It's not the perfect life though, is it? Not when you’re being a right proper idiot about all this. She wants you here. I want you here, you great pillock!” Steven’s voice is loud and indignant, and you can hear a rattle in there that you’re pretty sure is Steven grabbing onto the sides of the mirror in a frustrated attempt to throttle Marc through it. “And you can stop trying to peddle ‘normal,’ all right? Nothing about this situation is normal, and I for one am perfectly okay with that!”

You can always trust Steven to come through with the honest truth.

God, you love that man.

You can’t help but smile as he quite loudly voices everything you’ve been dying to say to Marc in this moment. You agree with all of it, even the throttling. Because Steven’s so very right. Who needs ‘normal’ when you can have something better together?

“Just–” Steven cuts himself off, and you hear the deep inhale as he takes a calming breath before he continues.

“Listen, Marc…” His voice is softer now, almost cajoling. Trying to negotiate and soothe.

You lean up on your tiptoes and in closer to the door, until you’re practically pressed against it. In your eagerness, you forget about how flimsy the material is until it gives slightly under your weight, and you flinch back. Honestly, it’s probably a miracle the flimsy thing didn’t collapse altogether.

“You’re not fooling anyone, all right? I can feel what you feel when you’re around her.”

You wait with bated breath for Steven to continue, selfishly hoping that he’ll spell it out further because you desperately want to know what exactly it is that Marc feels around you. For you.

“When you wake up next to her, and–” his voice spills from the bathroom, the dry sarcasm unmistakable, “when you drink that bloody awful coffee.”

Again with the sass about your coffee!

You scowl at the door, any goodwill towards Steven’s efforts in this conversation quickly evaporating. Surely, your coffee can’t be as terrible as all that. It’s just beans and water! How much of a difference can the ratio make anyhow?

“Or… Or the way you clutched onto that jacket for weeks after she wore it. Treated it like some bloody teddy bear, didn’t you?”

His jacket? The one that gave you so much grief and guilt after the almost-kiss in front of the fishtank? And Marc had… what? Snuggled with it? Your mind boggles at the very idea, even as it warms your heart.

“‘Don’t?’” Steven challenges, obviously repeating something you can’t hear. “Don’t what, exactly, Marc? Don’t state the obvious?” He barrels on, apparently unwilling to give Marc time to reply, "I know how you feel about her. And I know what you think about when you spend those extra ten minutes in the shower."

Extra… minutes? You frown to yourself. You don't understand. What could Steven possibly mean by ‘ten extra minutes’ in the–

Oh.

An invading image pushes to the forefront of your mind. Of Marc's stern and focused eyes closed in concentration. Wet curls plastered to his forehead. His fingers wrapped in a tight fist over his hard cock. It’s true that you’ve not ever seen Marc less than fully clothed, but you’ve seen Steven without a thread on his body, and your brain is more than happy to fill in the blanks.

Heat curls into your stomach and settles there. Your chest feels tight, as though the thought of Marc in the shower is squeezing the breath out of you. Your vivid imagination clings onto the image, no matter how hard you try to think of something else. Your brain is too enamoured with it and refuses to let it go.

All you see as you close your eyes are his perfect cheekbones flushed a rosy crimson as he shudders in pleasure.

"Well if you don't want me to tell her, you’d best stop playing hide and seek then," Steven continues, clearly exasperated, "You’re being ridiculous, you bloody plonker."

Despite the fact that he's still technically whispering, he's so agitated that he might as well be shouting and the volume would be comparable. Steven never could keep a lid on his emotions. You can just picture the animated expression on his face.

“She wants you too, you know.” It’s quieter, comes after a second or two pause, as if Steven’s deliberately tamping down how loud he was.

More silence follows.

You wait for several torturously slow seconds, but there’s still nothing from behind the door. Is it because Marc has been replying to Steven, you wonder. And if he has, what has he been saying? Is he angry? Brushing Steven off? Or is it like it was on the phone last night—silent because he’s not replying back at all.

Why is that somehow the worst scenario?

You don’t hear anything else. Perhaps this is how it’s going to end today as well. Another stalemate. Stuck in a loop, like Gus II’s endless pilgrimage back and forth across the tank, forever spinning in this box that you have gotten yourselves into, with no way out.

How long can the three of you keep doing this for?

“Did you know… she had a sex dream about us?" Steven says.

A cold shock grips the entirety of your spine, and you jolt like someone threw a bucket of ice water over your head.

"That’s right, about both of us, together—said she couldn't choose."

Oh god. God! What on earth is Steven saying? Has he lost his fucking marbles? He can’t tell Marc that!

Embarrassment burns with a fury in your cheeks. You bite down on your tongue, trying to keep yourself still, fighting every nerve in your body that wants to ram down the door.

“Actually, I quite think you do need to be hearing this, mate. If you would just–” Steven breaks off, then tries again, raising his voice like he’s trying to talk over and overpower someone else in volume.

“If you would just come back and talk to us about it, I'm sure she would… Marc. Take your hands off your ears, Marc. If you would just listen for one bloody second. Can you please just– Oh, right, that’s really mature!”

“Oh, that is bloody well it!” Steven shouts, and harsh fluorescent light floods your vision, momentarily blinding you, as the bathroom door is flung open.

You stumble forward, nearly falling through the doorway. The only things that stops you from going arse-over-tits are Steven's solid frame and the fact that you faceplant square into the middle of his chest.

His hands go to your shoulders, helping to steady you, and it only takes a second to regain your footing. And then you find yourself staring up at your fuming boyfriend.

Steven’s cheeks are flushed, chest heaving, and his beautiful messy curls are bouncing wildly on top of his head. He must’ve been well and truly hacked off at Marc, but at the sight of you the anger melts off of him.

"Oh,” he says, blinking down at you in surprise, “hello, love. You’re back?”

Turning back to the bathroom, Steven narrows his eyes pointedly at the mirror, then turns off the light and slides the door shut firmly behind him.

"How... uhm… how much of that did you overhear?"

"Quite a bit," you admit, not bothering to beat around the bush. "I'm guessing Marc’s still refusing to come home then?"

Steven gives an exasperated shake of his head.

"He's being stubborn, as always."

You nod, but there’s a bitter clump stuck in your throat that you can’t quite swallow down. Steven must notice your struggle, because his hands trail down the length of your arms until he finds yours and weaves your fingers together, squeezing lightly.

"Don't worry, love. He'll come around eventually, yeah? He just needs time."

Steven likes to say the two of you have all the time in the world, but you're beginning to wonder if even that would be enough.

The flickering light from the telly is swathing the bed and surrounding surfaces of Steven’s bookshelves in blues and whites. You’re staring blindly at the ocean scenery playing out before you, without really hearing any of the narration as Attenborough drones on about whale wildlife.

You feel listless. You try to tell yourself that it’s just been a long day at work. Between Poppy stealing your lunch, (which she denies) and that three hour Teams call that nearly ended your will to live, it’s no wonder you’re ready for this day to end.

But it’s more than that.

‘It’s better for both of you that I’m not around’.

Marc had sounded so tired in the loo this morning, like he’s exhausted to the depths of his soul, and you hate that for him. Guilt swirls in your stomach, simmering until it curdles into irritation and then anger.

You’re furious at the whole situation.

You hate how angry and defeated he sounded. Can't stand the thought that he's doing something that hurts him to keep you and Steven “happy.” But most of all you hate that he’s alone again. By himself, trying to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders like the victim of some tragic Greek myth, condemned to a solitary existence by the gods for all of eternity.

But your anger isn’t helping you right now, and it certainly doesn’t help Marc.

In fact, nothing you’ve been doing has helped him, has it? All your efforts to get him to come back: spam texting him, poisoning him with your toxic coffee, confessing your feelings… The only thing any of it has achieved is to make him feel cornered and miserable.

It needs to stop.

You need to stop.

“You all right, love?” Steven’s voice near your ear pulls you out of your spiralling thoughts.

“Hmm?”

Steven frowns at you from where he sits beside you on the sofa.

“You seem… distracted. Is there something on your mind, love?”

“Yes, sorry, I think I’m just–” you trail off mid-sentence, the screen catching your eye when you lift your head. The credits are rolling and must have been for quite some time without you even noticing.

“Let’s go to bed, love. Call it an early night, yeah?” he asks with a gentle smile on his lips.

Curling up in bed with Steven sounds perfect to you in this moment and you nod at him.

It’s all he needs to start moving, Steven stooping to gather up the blanket that’s pooled by your feet and reaches over your lap for the remote to turn off the telly. The room dims without the brightness of the screen, and Steven takes your hand, pulling you to your feet. He watches your progress surreptitiously, keeping his hand steady over yours like he’s a guide dog worried you’re going to trip over your own feet.

He doesn’t let go until you’re safely sat down on your side of the bed, and even then he stays standing there with an uncertain look on his face, one hand hovering in mid-air, the other hanging by his side, fingers fidgeting.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Steven finally asks, the words bursting out of him as if he’s unable to hold them in any longer. “What happened today, that is. About Marc, and what you overheard.”

“Marc…,” you begin, and his name barely even leaves your lips before Steven is already nodding enthusiastically for you to continue. “He sounded really quite tired today, didn’t he? It must be hard for him to keep this up. I don’t know why he thinks he has to keep hiding like this.”

Steven’s chewing on his bottom lip, and there it is again, the feeling that Steven knows so much more than he’s been telling you. You can practically see the weight of the phrase ‘I can’t tell you right now’ perched heavily on his features.

You look down at your lap, fingers twisting into the blanket. But maybe, it isn’t hard to guess what it is neither of them are telling you. It’s Occam’s razor isn’t it? All things being equal, the simplest explanation is usually the correct one. And maybe the simple explanation here is that Marc just… doesn’t want to see you. Whatever the reasons, he’s made that much abundantly clear, and you’ve gone and ignored all signs and pushed forward regardless. You told the man you loved him, and he didn’t say anything back.

“I think that what I said on the phone–me telling him I love him—has probably only made things worse.”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as you raise your eyes towards Steven again.

“I just want him to know it’s okay if he doesn’t feel the same about me. It’s all right if he doesn’t want this or– Or me. He doesn’t have to hide to avoid rejecting me or to spare my feelings. I don’t want him to be alone because of that. Can you… can you tell him that?”

Steven's eyes widens, and he shakes his head vigorously.

“No. No, no, no, love. That is not what's happening here. That's not– The problem is– Marc is just–" He stumbles over his words a bit before spitting out tartly, "Just a right twit, is what he is."

You can’t help the grunt-like snort that escapes, and the levity feels good. It’s nice to be able to laugh with Steven, even as glum as you are over the situation that you’re all stuck in.

Your laugh must’ve pleased him, because he smiles back at you, eyes crinkling adorably. His shoulders relax too, and his hands stop their nervous fidgeting.

Climbing knee-first onto the bed, Steven sits in front of you. His hand comes to yours, and he settles both your hands on top of your lap.

“Marc isn’t hiding away because he doesn’t feel the same about you.”

Your face must show your scepticism, because Steven squeezes your fingers between his reassuringly as he continues.

“Same body and all that, remember? I’m aware enough nowadays that I can usually feel what he feels when I’m not the one fronting.”

"What does he feel?" You blurt out. It's a question that has been haunting you since your impromptu phone call confession. Longer even.

Steven hesitates, clearly torn, and it’s enough to make you realise what you've just asked of him. How unfair of a question it is.

"Sorry.” You grimace, your shoulders sagging. "I know you don't feel comfortable sharing things about Marc without him here. And I understand. It's okay. Really it is. It's..."

It's only right, isn't it? Of course it’s not for Steven to out Marc’s private matters. And what can be more personal than one’s inner thoughts and feelings?

"Oh, love," Steven says, voice impossibly gentle, “You're right that it's not my place to tell you.”

You nod, looking down at your lap, feeling like your whole chest has deflated. You know it's the right thing for him to do. You’re glad for it even—that he's looking out for Marc when Marc's not here to look out for himself—but you can’t help but feel disappointed all the same.

“Buuuut…” he continues, and your head whips up, searching his face with a tiny sprinkle of hope that perhaps there's still something Steven can share with you.

“You heard what I said to him in there, right?” Steven prompts, and you nod. His fingers brush over yours, giving you the time to process.

You try to remember everything you overheard, any other hints you’ve gleaned. How Marc always drinks your “awful” coffee. That he’d clutched onto his jacket after you’ve worn it. The shower. Your fingertips tingle all over again as the image of him in the shower tries to resurface in your mind.

“Surely it’s obvious by now how Marc feels about you, isn’t it?”

Steven looks so certain—like he can’t even begin to fathom why there would be any doubt about this—and you desperately want him to be right. Desperately want to think that Marc might care for you in return.

He says it like all of the pieces of the puzzle are plainly there for you to see. And they should be, you suppose. Marc has shown you so many different sides of himself, and the conversation you overheard revealed more. The problem is that no matter how hard you try to mash the pieces together to make them fit… They don’t.

What Steven’s implying makes sense, and yet here the two of you are, alone. And Marc is still refusing to join you.

Despite everything, the picture before you is still somehow… incomplete. You can’t help but feel that there’s at least one more vital piece of information that you’re still somehow missing.

“So why is he still hiding, then?”

And there’s something there, in Steven’s reaction when you ask him. A quick, blink-and-you’d-miss-it flicker towards the direction of the fish tank. The only reflective surface, lit up as it is in the darkness of the room.

“Steven?” you prompt loudly, fully intent on interrupting whatever tirade Marc is shouting at Steven. You lean forward, squeezing his hand for attention. “What is Marc saying to you? Why won’t he come back?”

Steven’s head whips back in your direction. His mouth is works, but no words come out, and he’s hesitating like he’s trying to decide how much he should tell you.

“There are things that we—that Marc hasn't told you,” Steven finally says, eyes flicking to the fishtank again, then back to yours, holding your gaze earnestly. “Things that you ought to hear about from him. He doesn’t think he deserves– Well. He thinks that once you know about everything, you’ll walk away from us both. So he’s staying away. I guess in some way, he thinks he’s protecting me again. Buying me some time before it ends."

“That’s ridiculous!” you shout before you can stop yourself. “He can’t possibly know how I’ll react until he’s told me!”

Your ears burn and you wouldn’t be surprised if there was steam coming out. Why can’t Marc just sit you down and tell you these things instead of making assumptions about what he thinks you would want? What he thinks would be best for you? It’s Steven and the goldfish all over again.

“And, Steven,”—you look him right in the eye, because you don’t want there to be any doubt about this next part—”I love you. There is nothing Marc could tell me that would make me want to leave you, all right.”

Steven smiles, and even in the dark it’s warm enough to light up the whole room.

"Yes, love, I know.” His smile turns wry, “Like I said… a right twit."

It’s dark.

Quiet.

The world isn’t awake yet, and you’re not sure if you are either. You can’t even hear the London traffic outside. There’s too little light in here, and you can’t make out anything except vague shapes in the inviting darkness. You close your eyes again, ready to drift back to sleep.

Fabric rustles nearby, a soft white noise like the raising of sails. It reminds you of visiting the beach as a child and putting your ear to the opening of a seashell. Everything sounds like it’s underwater.

The surface under you moves, rolling slightly, and then settles again, and it feels like you are out at sea on a small boat. Behind your eyelids, all you see is purple skies dusted with sugared stars.

Someone is here on the boat with you, warm and sturdy against your side. For a moment or two, drunk on sleep as you are, you don’t quite know where you are or who the person is. All you know is that you feel happy and safe with them.

The boat rocks again, the surface under you shifting, and the warmth moves away. You want it back. Before you can reach out, the soft weight covering you shifts like a wave, dragging against your hip as it rises up over your torso before settling again, tucked snugly under your chin.

There are quiet, almost careful footsteps on wooden planks. Then the clink of metal like chains being dragged across the floor.

It’s all so familiar somehow.

Didn't there used to be a time when you'd often find yourself like this? Drowsy and half-conscious, pulled towards awareness by the quiet sounds of someone moving next to you, but too far under to fully wake?

When did it stop?

Oh. Right. When Marc disappeared.

This must be a dream then. Your brain processing and recycling old memories. Why else would you be out on the open sea?

The noises stop.

You can feel the moment drift, pulled away by the currents, but you’re not ready to wake up yet. There’s a long silence, where the dream threatens to slip beneath the inky depth of a wave.

Squeezing your eyes firmly shut, you try to let yourself float gently on the current, hoping you can relax and prolong this dream.

The surface you’re resting on dips, and something settles onto your shoulder. A solid, comforting weight. You know this feeling. It’s Marc’s hand, and it inspires the same feeling of safety it did last time, the last time you and Marc were together in person, after you'd cried yourself into exhaustion and he'd agreed to let you fall asleep in his bed.

It feels nice. More than nice. It feels right.

You nuzzle your cheek into billowing warmth surrounding you that feels like a soft pillow and smells of fresh laundry detergent and coffee. You inhale deeply, sighing contently at the scent, trying to enjoy it while it lasts.

You don’t want to give this up.

The weight lifts from your shoulder, and you almost rise up in protest, but something sweeps softly across your forehead. Those gentle fingertips, brush the hair from your eyes before coming to linger on your cheek.

It's a bit funny, isn’t it? A bit cruel even, of your subconscious to conjure up a scenario where Marc’s touching your cheek tenderly like this. After all, isn’t this what you’d thought he might do that night? What you’d wanted him to do, even if you hadn’t known it then? To cup your cheek in his strong, warm hand; to hold you like you're precious to him, beloved, the same way that Steven does?

Marc’s hand moves away again, replaced by the gentle brush of soft lips and bristly stubble against your temple. It’s a barely-there touch, so light and fleeting that you might have imagined it, yet everything inside you aches like a tender bruise. Your skin tingles with an echo of lingering warmth.

You don’t dare to move; barely dare to breathe for fear that you’ll wake yourself up. Your chest constricts with a bittersweet longing that feels large enough to bury you whole.

"I love you too," his quiet voice says, filling the silence.

Warmth blossoms in your stomach, pouring and pouring through you until you feel filled to the brim with happiness. You think you would be content to stay here, in this safe, quiet space, just basking in his loving presence forever.

For long moments, you do, sinking into the feeling of being loved by this grumpy, stubborn, confusingly gentle man.

Then you hear the heavy sigh.

"That's why I can't come back," he says, voice quiet, resigned, “I need you to be safe. And happy. I’ll make sure of that.”

The sea rises as his weight lifts away from you. The whole of the boat shifts unsteadily beneath you, tilting with the tumultuous waves. Set adrift by the unexpected and unwelcome turn the dream has taken, you’re convinced that the boat is going to tip over and capsize. That you’ll slip into the cracks between the planks of the deck and fall into the abyss, never to be seen again.

You reach out to grab the railing, trying to steady yourself. But where you expected a wooden ledge, hard and wet from seawater, your fingers grasp onto something soft and warm instead. It gives way easily under the grip of your hands, like cotton. Like sheets.

Still you hold on tightly, bracing yourself for the inevitable descent, and then…

Nothing.

Nothing happens. You’re still on steady ground. Still surrounded in the stillness of the dark night. The only sound is that of soft footsteps moving away and then the unmistakable click of the front door.

Wait, what kind of dream is this?

Your eyes fly open, and you’re greeted to the sight of the wooden planks, mostly lost in shadow. The bottom of the deck? Are you in the ship’s hold?

No, it’s the lowered ceiling over Steven's bed. You’re in his flat.

There’s an ache in your shoulder from having rested on it too long, and you force yourself upright. Your eyelids feel crusty and dry, as though a desert has sprung up behind them overnight. They sting as you blink, wanting to seal closed again.

Are you awake now? Or is this just another part of a dream? Ten seconds from now, will you find yourself back down on the mattress, forcing yourself to open your eyes all over again?

It’s dark in here, but that tells you nothing. In wintertime, dark can mean 5pm or 7am or anything in between. Turning to the side of the bed, you pat at the nightstand until you find your watch and raise it to your face, squinting in the darkness to make out the dials.

Eight-thirty? That can’t be right. You and Steven fell asleep well past eight last night, and it’s too dark outside to already be eight in the morning. You reach over to the small lamp, holding the face of it up to the dim light. The arms counting the seconds is taking much longer than a second to hobble forwards. It’s desperately trying to tick along but it’s not doing a great job at keeping time accurately.

You really need to fix the bloody thing. Or better yet, get a new one. Everything about it is falling apart. Still you fasten it to your wrist by habit before you move to get out of bed.

With a heavy sigh, you dip one foot onto the floor, and hiss out an involuntary breath at the chill of it. Your shoulders clutch at the quilt tugging it closer around your shoulder.

Wait, this is…

Real.

The biting cold is definitely real. Not a dream; not your imagination. As fantastical as your dreams can sometimes be, your subconscious wouldn't have the attention to detail to replicate the energy bill crisis.

Turning your head, your eyes drift to Steven’s side of the bed where he fell asleep curled up next to you. Except, he’s not there anymore.

You reach out your hand, resting it on the spot of the mattress where he would have been lying.

Still warm and toasty.

He must’ve gotten up mere moments ago. The door to the loo is open and dark, so Steven’s not in there. He’s not anywhere, and Steven wouldn’t have left the flat without telling you. Must’ve been Marc then, gone wandering off into the night again.

Your neck prickles.

And all of a sudden you’re wide awake, realisation slamming into you like a runaway lorry.

Oh bloody hell, that wasn’t a dream. It was real.

Marc was really here.

He really–

Oh god!

Shoving the comforter away, you leap to your feet. The cold draft in the room punches the air out of your lungs, but you ignore it and focus on trying to find your clothes and dress as quickly as possible. In your haste, you ricochet off one of the bookcases and have to clumsily pat things back into place to avoid an avalanche of Steven’s mess, picking the first pair of boots that is within reach and your coat. Then you’re out of the front door with a loud slam behind you.

~ Continue ~

a/n: to be notified of new writing updates follow @astroboots-writes and turn on notifs 🤡💖🤡

#oscar isaac #moon knight #marvel #marvel mcu #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant #marc spector #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fic #moon knigh fanfiction #jake lockley #steven grant x you #marc spector x you #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #cici writes

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weirdmarioenemies · 5 months

Text

Name: Tenshi

Debut: WarioWare, Inc.: Mega Microgame$!

I know what you're thinking. It's been four grueling days since the last post about some kind of fictional cube. Don't worry! Cube delivery right here! Even the most humble of gray blocks is a beautiful and valuable thing. Far too valuable for some schmuck like ME to touch with my oily, mortal, mammal skin. Only the divine can be trusted with delivering this block!

This gray block is the ground for our feathered friend Pyoro! He needs to eat those Beans, and if he can't stand on a solid surface while doing so... well, I can't stand to imagine such a calamity! The beans are ruthless. Just a single gently drifting bean can obliterate a poor block, making a gap Pyoro cannot cross, restricting his movement! What Bad Beans!

But even among Bad Beans, there are some Blessed Beans! When this funny bird eats the right bean, something happens. The heavens are notified. God must intervene. Even if He may have been watching over the entire universe, He knows something dire has happened in one small area. He can't let the beans prevail. He must send His angels!

That's what Tenshi means! It means Angel. This is one of those funny situations where an entity's name is just a regular word in Japanese, but it has never technically been referred to in English, so we gotta just accept the Japanese name as official until further notice. They come bearing gray cubes from above for Pyoro to scuttle atop! Anything to let him eat some more beans! It's a very important matter!

In WarioWare Gold's remake of Pyoro, as well as Super Pyoro, the Blocks have received a makeover! Please let me know if you were a Gray Block Enthusiast who is miffed about them now being made of real dirt and grass and looking kinda Minecrafty! I feel neutral to good about the change, though. It's a handsome block. Maybe it can be argued that it lessens the strange ambiguity of Pyoro's whole situation for the blocks to be more "realistic". But if that is a concern to you, then maybe you should think about other things. Sorry. Look, Tenshi now has a halo in game! Yay.

Super Pyoro introduces a few new mechanics to the classic gameplay, including a new Hidden Bonus Area in space! Here, beans abound on conveyor belts, being put there by food service Tenshi wearing little uniforms! Retail workers are the real angels!

To get to this stage, you must allow a beanstalk to grow by letting a bean fall through a hole in the ground... will you sacrifice one of our beloved Blocks to let this happen? Is it worth it? Does the presence of unique Cloud Blocks in the bonus area make up for it? It is up to you! And up to Anubis when he inevitably weighs your heart someday! I hope you made the right decision!

Tenshi is a very Ko Takeuchi character design, by which I mean it is one of those very simple Little White Guys he is always drawing. All the time! Rhythm Heaven is full of them, not nearly limited to just the Chorus Kids, and WarioWare gets its fair share of them, too! What can I say! The man just loves to draw Little White Guys!

#tenshi #angel #pyoro #super pyoro #warioware #warioware inc mega microgames #warioware gold #mario #mario allies #wario #wario allies #mod chikako

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multifandoms27-blog · 11 months

Note

if you’re still taking yugioh requests do you think i could get atem and kaiba comforting an s/o who’s afraid of storms (especially thunder and lightning)? thank you!! 🩷

OMGOMGOMG YES HI I just saw this in my inbox!!! I am absolutely still taking Yugioh quests!!!

Content: Atem x gn!Reader; Seto Kaiba x gn!Reader

Warnings: None

Notes: You didn't specify if Atem was in modern or ancient times, so I just went with ancient times......I'm a history/mythology nerd so I took the chance lol sorry. I also slipped in a small YGOTAS reference at the end of Atem's part lol

• ───────────────── •

❥ Pharaoh Atem

Normally, it was custom for the Pharaoh and his spouse to sleep in separate bedrooms. This allowed them both down time after being in the public eye all day. As much as you loved your husband, you needed this time away, even if it was to just rest.

After your servants helped you undress and get ready for bed, you were left alone with your thoughts. Although, you were so exhausted you just wanted to sleep. You'd be up and at 'em again in the morning.

You hadn't even realized you fell asleep until a loud boom woke you, practically shaking your room. Sitting up immediately, your heart beginning to thump rapidly in your chest, you opened your mouth to yell for anyone who was still awake.

"Guards! Guards!"

Almost immediately, a couple of the many palace guards entered the room, all three being armed. "Your majesty, are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"I'm-" You were interrupted by another loud boom. You screamed and shut your eyes. "Fetch my husband! Please!"

"Right away, your majesty!" The three left the room to get their king from his room.

Soon, Atem strode in swiftly, and the sight before him broke his heart. His spouse, curled up in a tight ball on their bed, scared out of their mind. He quickly approached them, and gathered his (Y/n) into his arms. "There, there...I'm here, my love. What's gotten you so afraid?"

Clinging onto him almost immediately, you answered, "The storm...I wasn't expecting it..."

"Oh, my love..." Atem gently moved a strand of hair out of your face. "It is only a storm, it will pass."

"No, Atem...I have always been afraid of them. Since I was a child." You shook your head, moving away slightly to look at him.

"Is there any way I can help you with this fear?" He asks, voice soft and kind, as always, and his hand gently rubbing your arm. "I can try to cover your ears, but I'm afraid my hands do nothing compared to the might of Set."

Atem adds a small giggle to the end of his last remark, showing you that he was kidding. It makes you giggle too. "Oh, Atem...how I love you so."

Another boom flows through the sky outside, making you jump and scream, scaring Atem for a moment. He tightens his hold to try and calm you. "My (Y/n), it's okay. As long as I am here, I will protect you. Set will not harm us."

"How can you say for sure?" Your voice shook with fear. "Set is a fearsome God, Atem...have you forgotten all of his stories?"

"Set would not harm the royal family, he protected my father during his reign, and his father before him, and his father, and so on." Atem then gave his spouse a smile. "We are safe. But, if you still feel scared, I can stay with you throughout the night."

You nod. "I...would like that very much."

Atem nods, then moves your head rest out of the way so you both lay on the bed, your face in his chest. "Is this okay?"

You nod again, then yelp and jump closer when another boom rings in the room. Atem thought for a moment. "There is one story that comes to mind about Set. You recall how Anubis killed him, yes?"

You nod. Atem carries on.

"Well, after going into the afterlife, Set had begun to do good things. My father once told me a story about how Set travels with Ra on his nightly trip to the underworld, and Set helps him battle the fearsome Apophis."

You focus in on what your husband is saying. The warmth of his arms around you and his body being pressed to yours, the softness of his voice as he tells a story passed down through generations, and suddenly you find yourself falling asleep once more.

"...and now, when people hear thunder, they are reminded that Ra is engaging in an epic battle, with Set by his side." Atem finishes not too long after, waiting for a response. When he doesn't get one, he looks down to see you've finally fallen back asleep, and the thunder seems to have gotten quieter. Set was moving away, possibly sensing the Pharaoh's spouses discomfort.

Sighing softly to himself, Atem placed a kiss on your forehead and taking in the peaceful look on your face, before finally falling asleep himself. Screw the rules, he's the Pharaoh.

• ───────────────── •

❥ Seto Kaiba

It was after hours at KaibaCorp, and Seto was still at his desk like usual. You, having finished work three hours ago, stopped by to try to coax him back to the house so that he could get some sleep. Of course, he didn't budge. Like usual. Knowing you were going to be sitting here for hours, you opted to order some dinner for the two of you.

"What about Mokuba? Where is he?" You asked Seto before ordering the food.

"He's with Yugi, he wanted to attend one of his game nights." Seto spoke without moving his eyes away from the screen.

After getting said food, you had noticed dark clouds rolling across the sky, with flashes of light in between the angry clouds. Clenching your jaw as your anxiety spikes, you quickly move back to your car and sped (as legally as you could) back to KaibaCorp.

When you got back to Seto's office with the food, he hadn't noticed your anxiety yet, or the rapidly approaching thunderstorm. You plopped the food down and curled up on the couch. Reaching over, you took out your food and begin to numbly eat it while scrolling through your phone, tensing as you start to prepare for the first sound of thunder.

Soon the storm begins, first with a flash of lightning, and then a loud boom soon after. You jump, dropping your fork. That gets Seto to look up as it makes a muffled thump against the ground. "...you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." You nod, going to pick up the fork from under the table. Another flash and boom sounded, making you jump and hit your head on the table.

Reeling back, you grimaced and held your head, and Seto moved over to you. "Are you sure?"

“I…” You sighed. “No. It’s the storm, I’m…scared.”

Seto didn’t do anything for a moment before sighing and pulling you back up on the couch. “I suppose I can stop for the day.”

“What? No, Seto, your work is important. Don’t-“

“Hush.” Seto tapped some more on his keyboard before shutting it, and moving over to you. “Mind if I sit here?”

He gave you a small smirk that makes your heart stutter. You nod and he sits down. Thunder sounds around you both, and you jump into Seto’s side. His heart warmed as you came to him for protection. He put a hand around you.

“It’s okay. No storm will hurt you with me here.”

You resisted the urge to cringe slightly. You loved your boyfriend, but sometimes he can say the weirdest things. “Thanks, hon…”

Seto’s grip tightened, then he leaned over to grab his food, and then grabbed your fork from the ground. “You can share my fork.”

“Thank you.”

Seto ate with one hand, his other hand around you. You watched him eat for a moment before he wordlessly offered a bite to you. You took the bite, then looked to the windows as rain began to pour down.

“It’s okay, we’re inside. Nothing can harm us.” Seto reassured.

“I know, just…” You sigh. “I’m sorry, I know this is probably childish…”

“Is that why you never told me about this before?" Seto asks, taking another bite of his food.

"...kind of." You then jump as lightning flashes and thunder rolls loudly in the sky. "Although, I guess you would've found out one way or another..."

Seto nods, setting the fork down. "Well, I don't think it's childish. People have fears, always have and always will. It isn't something childish or new."

You nod, sinking into his side a little, jumping and yelping a little when thunder sounded again. Seto leaned back into the couch and moved you into his lap, one hand on your head as he cradled it against his chest. His other hand rested on your thigh.

"Is there anything I could do to help?" Seto asks, his hand that's on your thigh begins to massage it, and the hand on your head gently scratches your scalp.

You begin to relax, but tense up again as you see lightning light up the room again. Seto's repeated movements are accompanied by a kiss on the forehead. You focus back on him.

"This is fine...thank you." You move your face slightly, so that it's in his chest.

Seto hums, and you can feel the reverb. It feels nice. It feels warm, and safe. You still tense and jump at thunder and lightning, but Seto's hands help you settle down enough. He occasionally plants kisses on your forehead or cheek, and makes small talk to try and distract you. Before you know it, the storm clears and the thunder begins to sound distant, the lightning becoming less frequent.

"Seems the storm is going away. Should we get ready to go home?" Seto asks, looking out of the many big windows, then back to you.

"In a minute." You mumble, snuggling into Seto's chest. "Right now I'm enjoying myself."

Seto cracks a smile. "Was this your plan?"

"No, but I'll take the outcome." You smile, making Seto let out a small chuckle before tightening his hold on you.

• ───────────────── •

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to request, or look for more of your favorite character!

#yugioh #yugioh atem #yugioh seto kaiba #yami yugi x reader #yami yugi x y/n #atem x reader #atem x y/n #seto kaiba x reader #seto kaiba x y/n #seto kaiba x you #I love seto kaiba #yugioh men #yugioh duel monsters

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 24 days

Note

Ello! :3 I hope you're doing good. I'm a sucker for the Ragnarok family trope so I was wondering if you could write a fic with teen!reader who struggles to balance properly. Like ever since they were a child, they had balancing issues and they find it about reader after adopting them. Like reader was trying their best to keep it a secret but it became apparent really quick that they had balancing problems and when one of them tried to ask reader about it directly, reader just started crying thinking they're gonna be thrown out again.

Also happy mother's day, you're the mother of all our fanfic ideas 💀

-Carefully- carefully and slowly, those were the words you kept repeating to yourself as you were walking down the stairs of your new home.

-This family had been wonderful; they were so loving and had treated you with nothing but respect- you had never had a family like that before!

-All your previous adoptive families or foster families had always given up on you, claiming you were a burden for something you had no control over!

-You had issues with your balance, mainly with keeping your balance, but only right when you stood up or when you were on stairs, more going down than going up. You had gone to a few doctors, taken by your old families, demanding to know what was wrong with you, but when they couldn’t get an exact answer, that’s when they would take you back and abandon you.

-That’s why you were being so careful, walking down the stairs, not wanting to lose your balance, trip, and fall, because you didn’t want to be abandoned again. This was the first time that you felt like you had a home, a real home with a real family. You didn’t want to lose this!

-You were unaware that your family knew about your condition, as your case worker told them, as she legally had to, but they weren’t bothered, they were going to adopt you anyway, but you didn’t know that.

-When you made it to the bottom of the stairs you sighed deeply in relief, happy that you didn’t fall as you wandered around, looking for Anubis and Leonidas, who were going to teach you about the difference between their culture’s weapons.

-You learned that your family was kind of weird, as they were literal gods and warriors from all throughout history, but you didn’t really mind, as you found it fun to learn more about history and the different gods from around the world.

-You found the two outside, waving you over and you smiled warmly, greeting them before your eyes went wide, seeing all the weapons, “That’s a lot of weapons.” Leonidas chuckled at your shock, finding it funny before Anubis beamed, patting the seat next to him and they started the lesson.

-A few hours later, after watching them, and Hercules and Ares, when they came out, wanting to join in on the fun lesson, showing you how to use the different weapons, showing off their combat skills, Eve stepped out from the kitchen, “Lunch time!”

-They all got up quickly to rush inside and you did the same, forgetting and instantly you took a hard tumble, nearly hitting your head on the table as you landed hard on your hands and knees.

-Several voices called out your name and you flinched hard, quickly trying to stand again, trying to play it off nothing was wrong as you stumbled again, nearly going down again, had Ares not caught you.

-Your hands came to your head, covering it as you were quickly panicking as Eve ran out to help where she could as you were quickly panicking, “I’m okay- I’m fine- there’s nothing wrong with me!” Hearing your panicked words quickly had them glancing at each other in worry.

-Ares held you close as you were brought inside while Anubis ran to get the first aid kit after Leonidas saw some blood on your knees.

-Hercules was so gentle, kneeling in front of you, reaching up to cup your cheek, “Y/N- it’s okay. We all know.” Your eyes went huge as more fear seemed to appear, scared that they were going to give up on you again.

-However, Hercules was quick to see this, “No Y/N- we’re not going to take you back. We wanted you, even with this. It doesn’t make you any less worthy.”

-Your eyes widened before they quickly filled with tears, happy tears that quickly fell, and they all softened, trying to calm you down. You had never had anyone tell you that before, that just because you were wobbly and had balance issues, that you were just fine, and they wanted you, wobbles and all.

-You were never made to feel like you were a burden, your family was nothing but supportive, helping you where they could, making sure sharp corners were covered, basically baby-proofing the house just in case if you fell anywhere, so you wouldn’t be seriously hurt. They took you to actual specialty doctors and not just family doctors who didn’t know what to look for, standing by your side, learning along with you.

-It was so nice, having a real family, one that would support you, no matter what.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror leonidas #ror anubis #ror ares #ror eve #ror heracles

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raleigh-edward · 4 days

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You hating on set with a set pfp is insane

Why are these anons always fighting invisible demons!?

I love Set but it is kind of weird when his son (according to Egyptian mythology) Anubis is also a potential LI for Eva.

By virtue of the fact that Anubis exists, he might have a mother, right!? And that is 100 percent not Eva (with good reason) but perhaps Nephthys (Set's wife) and I'm not exactly most onboard with romancing a married? man with a wife and a son, who is also a god so not Eva's equal (even is set is charming and interesting and the loml)

I'm simply acknowledging the weird way the plot is woven in this regard. If you want a fight please fight the wall I've got no energy to deal with unnecessary bs.

#romance club #rc set #rc sotcn #rc song of the crimson nile #asks

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victorspindrop · 3 months

Text

Music Artists I think the HOA Characters (Season 1 Specifically) would listen to!

Note: First head canon type thing I am putting on here (yay!). This is something I have thought a lot just myself in my lonesome so Id thought Id share it here! If you have any other ideas of what certain characters would listen to I would love to hear!

Nina

-> I think we as a fandom have collectively decided that Nina would 100% be a swiftie (and I agree). Her favorite album would be either Speak Now or Folklore, however, her fav song would probs be "London Boy" off of the Lover album though (for obvious reasons)

-> I can see her listening to some other softer artists like beabadobee, Clairo, and Boygenius (shes a softie at heart what can I say)

-> "All American Bitch" by Olivia Rodrigo is her confidence booster song for sure

-> Her and Amber have 2000-2010's pop music dance parties in their room together (which make annoy some of the housemates from them jumping around and dancing; also get in trouble with Victor about it but its worth it to them)

->Ok I need you guys to HEAR ME OUT with this one, but...Nina definitely is a little (just a little bit) of a theatre kid. I mean let's be real, she wrote an entire play for the school AND performed in it,,,my girl def is a little bit of a theatre girl. So with that being said, she listens to some show tunes from musicals (mostly Waitress and Mamma Mia)

Amber

-> She would so be a Y2k pop listening type of girl

-> Favorite songs would be "Rich Girl" by Gwen Stefani, "Just Dance" by Lady Gaga, HEAVY ON "Stars are Blind" by Paris Hilton!!!!!!

-> Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, Gwen Stefani, Beyonce, if its an iconic pop girl, she listens to them

-> Marina and the Diamonds. IDK IT JUST MAKES SO MUCH SENSE TO ME I CANNOT EXPLAIN. Some of her songs just give that "it girl" energy and if there is an "it girl" of the Anubis house its miss Amber Millington. "Bubblegum Bitch" is blasted in her car with the top down (because she def has a convertible and its pink)

-> Ariana Grande stan. Probably had a stroke when Ariana came out with a makeup line and bought ALL OF IT.

Fabian

-> Fabian def listens to alternative music old and new.

->LOVES THE SMITHS! Like its almost the only thing he listens to

-> Favorite songs by the Smiths include "There is a Light that Never Goes Out" and "Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want"

-> Listens to the Arctic Monkeys for sure

-> Some other artists he listens to are Radiohead, The Cranberries, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, and TV Girl.

-> Fabian is my favorite awkward loser boy... he listens to Weezer

Patricia

-> Didn't Alfie call her like a "Punk rock/goth vixen" or something like that? (I can't remember the quote or the episode it is in for the life of me)

-> Regardless of whatever the quote was, this is our punk rock alternative queen right here

-> PARAMORE SHE LIKES PARAMORE (has a crush on Hayley Williams because I said so)

-> Had a Panic At the Disco and FallOutBoy phase for sure

-> Listens to the Smiths a little bit (because Fabian showed her some songs)

-> Also listens to some metal rock, loves Poppy and always liked her weird concepts

Alfie

-> Alfie listens to anything and everything I feel like

-> alternative, pop, rock, jazz, electronic, DISCO, hell even fucking dubstep.

-> If he likes it, that's all that matters to him. He doesn't care about the genre or style of music it is

-> I feel he would listen to a lot of artists from the 70s and 80s (idk if that's because of Jeromes quote about him being stuck in the 80s but it would make sense!)

->Loves ABBA, BeesGees, Earth Wind and Fire, and WHAM

-> When "Lets Groove" by Earth Wind and Fire was trending on tiktok, he played it every chance he could. That song has been banned from the house since.

Jerome

-> Like Fabian, he's an Arctic Monkeys fan

-> ADVID LISTENER OF I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

-> Favorite song by IDKHBTFM is Choke

-> I feel like he would also love Childish Gambino idk why I just feels right

-> Secretly listens to Mitski. That boy has been traumatized even BEFORE he was at Anubis, he deserves to cry to Mitski

-> The Neighborhood is a favorite of his (especially their song Daddy Issues because of,,, obvious reasons) Second favorite song of theirs would be Single (if you haven't heard that song highly recommend)

-> Hozier feels right for him idk

Joy

-> I think as a fandom we have concluded that she is also a swiftie. Her favorite album is Midnights and Reputation imo

-> HEAVY ON OLIVIA RODRIGO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-> The Sour album was life changing for her (same can be said for Guts)

-> Literally her top songs of the year were all from the album. Jealously Jealousy, Favorite Crime, Hope You're Happy, Good for You to be specific

-> I can see her being a Harry fan

-> Definitely forced Patricia to go to Love on Tour (Patricia liked it, but she definitely won't tell you that)

-> She was a One Directioner so naturally, the love carried on into the members solo careers (had to miss class when Zayn left)

Mara

-> LAUFEY LAUFEY LAUFEY LAUFEY LAUFEY!!!!!!!

-> Also just listens to old Frank Sinatra, Doris Day, Dean Martin

-> Listened to 5SOS during her brief "bad girl" era to help prove her point but she actually ended up really liking them!

Mick

-> Ed Sheeran and Jojo Siwa

*AUTHOR NOTE* I really hope you guys enjoyed this! Tbh it took a while because a few were tricky for me. Please fell free let me know if you have any you would add. Sorry some descriptions are longer than others

#alfie lewis #fabian rutter #joy mercer #mick campbell #mara jaffray #nina martin #house of anubis #amber millington #patricia williamson #jerome clarke #hoa

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amelee23 · 10 months

Text

Special | Lee Know Fluff

Pairing: Lee Know x Gender neutral reader

Genre: Romance, poetic prose, first person

Word count: 1k

Warnings: this is disgustingly romantic, reader is worshiping their love for lino basically, talks about mythology and gods

A/n: Please let me know if you liked this, since I do know this is a kind of writing that isn't really done around here (?) but I am a hopeless romantic so here goes nothing lmao

Synopsis: One day, you began to wonder: what makes your love story with Minho so special? As you struggle to find an answer, you only find more love.

Millions of people fall in love every single day, but what makes my story special?

My story, by all normal means, is not in any way special. I'm sure history has heard of stories like mine countless of times.

What could I say to make it sound special? That it was love at first sight?

Well, it was. But that's also cliche. I don't believe it to be as rare as it sounds.

That he thawed my cold heart and made it beat again? Even though he did - my ex made me feel oh so special, and when he walked out of my life, every wall he had knocked down were built right back up.

But then I met another boy, and he spoke to me with a sparkle in his eye, with hidden kindness and sensitivity beyond every word. And I fell in love hopelessly, on the spot.

What else could I say -? That he has a heart of gold? He does, this boy of mine has helped countless animals find shelter, fed starving children across the world and offered every little ounce of him towards the happiness of those around him. But does that make our story special enough?

He's not a king of ancient kingdoms, although secretly, when he sits down at his desk I imagine he could be. A heavy crown on his head, the garments of nobility, an aura around him that demands respect. Plus, he's never taken a selfish decision in his life, he's always looked after me and stirred me in the right direction.

He's not a knight in shining armor, although when we're together I feel so powerful - that we could indeed be slaying dragons! Both of us, clad in armor, standing back to back with wide swords ready to charge into battle, the background forgotten in a mist of smoke and ashes. There is no foe that could stand in our way.

Perhaps you could say, this story is special because he is special. But he would kill me if he heard me say that, that he's special and I'm not.

Because if you ask him, I've got it all backwards. He's just Minho, and I'm the star.

The star of his world.

He swears I must be famous, because although I don't see it (or refuse to admit it) everyone around me adores me. Or so he says. He always says I'm loved, oh so loved, and not just by him. He's merely my biggest fan, and sometimes-! Sometimes he acts like my manager. Marketing me to others, telling stories of how great I am. How cute.

But let's get back to talking about him. Since he's my favorite topic to talk about.

So he's not a king, nor a knight. Perhaps he's a seer, since he does seem to posses the ability to foresee the future! He always talks about such distant destinies, the names of our children, the color of our shared bedroom, the furniture of our kitchen, all these memories we're yet to have... Hmm, maybe he can predict the future. I doubt it's all wishful thinking!

Or maybe he's a magician? A healer, a witch, a mage - he must be able to perform some sort of healing magic, because once, when I had a headache, he kissed my forehead and the pain went away. That couldn't have been a coincidence-!

What else could I compare him to, to make this seem more magical? An Egyptian deity...? No, let's not do that, it sounds somewhat blasphemous to compare a mere mortal to an ancient God... although he should definitely try dressing as one for Halloween! Gold would look great on his honey-like skin, surrounded by his tightly protected kittens... From what I have read he'd fit Anubis the most, for he's such a good listener, so supportive, it's like he has the ability to bring people back to life, breathe motivation back into them when they feel they're at the end of their road - just like Anubis used to help in the process of reincarnation. It doesn't even have to be Egyptian, I could say he reminds me of Prometheus, the man who stole fire from the gods, to give it to humanity in an absolute tragic and noble sacrifice... (I did compare him to gods even though I said I wouldn't, right?)

Maybe he's a forest fairy? No, this one I am a certain about. He blends into nature, it's the place where he most belongs. What else could he be, other than a magical sprite of nature? Animals adore him, I'm sure he can communicate with them in languages only they can understand. And whenever we go camping, and he lies down on the grass, on our old and stained picnic blanket, it seems as though the grass grows; flowers sprout around his body and the sun seeps into his skin, making him glow. And then he smiles and beckons me over, to share with him of his fruit, and I'm sure it's actually ambrosia.

Yes, this should be the one. Being a human, being my lover, it's all just a cover for something so deeply mysterious, ancient and magical, living inside of him, running through his veins... I hope he doesn't lose his magic by settling for someone as simple as me, who could only admire, but barely comprehend the history of his existence...

If he were to read this, he would think I'm very funny. And probably check my temperature for a fever. But one thing's for sure - we could be anything if we tried to be, a supernatural story, a Greek tragedy, a new York besteller... But we don't need to. Because what we have is enough.

There's a million people who fall in love every single day. But there's a million reasons why my lover is made out of pure magic - and while this might not be the most special love story of all time, it is the most special story of my life.

A/n: Just a thousand words my game weak this time around I am sTRugGLINg

If you like my work, consider donating so I can continue writing!

©amelee23 do not copy or repost

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writingquestionsanswered · 6 months

Note

the book i’m currently writing has a character that is a traitor that later regrets his decision. however, this happens at the end of the book, and the repercussions of his betrayal lead to the entire cast, winning the battle, but dying in the process. How do I know this is the correct ending? keep in mind the traitorous character is meant to be redeemed through the burial of his friends and carrying their legacy, as his patron deity is Anubis, who is the god of embalming, death and burial.

How to Know if Ending is the Right Ending

Ask yourself the following questions:

1 - Is there any other way this story could end? If so, do any of those endings seem better or seem to make more sense?

2 - Does your gut instinct tell you that this is a good/bad ending?

3 - If you read a book with this ending, would you like it? Think of a favorite book of yours that has a big cast. Would you have enjoyed that book if it had ended this way?

4 - If you have a critique partner or writing friend, try bouncing a summary of the story (including the ending) off them to see what they think.

5 - Is there anything that bothers you about this ending? Is it anything you can fix?

Ultimately, you have to go with your gut instinct here... but you can do that more confidently by going through the above questions and considering the answers. :)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

LEARN MORE about WQA

SEE MY ask policies

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cervicrazed · 2 months

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da WHOLE HOG for bambi + whichever of your newer ocs pairs best with her ;]

Hell yeah, let's do it!!

I can already tell this'll be a long one so have a page break to save yourself some dash space

^This is Bambi! ^This is Jak L!

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

Bambi -> you actually gave Bambi her name if I remember right!! I think the logic was Wilton Rader (deer motif) + Walt (Disney) = Bambi

It was funny & fit so well that I didn't bother looking for any other names after that

Jak L. -> When I was making her originally all I knew was that I wanted a pitch black head & red eyes - the tall ears were a last minute addition that made her look like Anubis to me so....well, i just couldn't resist the pull of the pun

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

Bambi -> It kinds depends? I jump around her timeline a lot when i draw her so here's a good rule a thumb; if her hair is in pigtails, she's meant to be no older than 10, long ponytail caps at 16, and her shorter, shoulder length cut means she's 17-19

Jak L. -> Around 18 or 19 - a little older than Bambi to up her 'cool factor' in her eyes. They meet during Bambi's first attempt to go to (Human) school

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

Bambi -> Crushing hard on Jak but trying to play it cool. She's the poster child for a rebellious teen and Bambi is mesmerized by her confidence and defiance

Jak L. -> Not too keen on relationships after getting cursed by her ex during a messy breakup (she doesn't like to talk about it) Bambi's adoration is not lost on her, but she worries the curse may intervene if she gets too close

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

Bambi -> She absolutely loooovees Lake Trout. There's an abundance of them near her childhood home, so her dads cooked it for dinner often. She used to get sick of it but on long trips it's nice to be reminded of home.

Jak L. -> It used to be a lemon butter chicken thighs, but Jak's curse won't let her eat 'anything that bleeds.' She's found Chicken of the Woods to be a decent replacement, but it's just not the same.

💼 - What do they do for a living?

Bambi -> Money isn't really used outside of Human settlements, but Bambi will run errands for her uncle Warren in exchange for magical items she can sell or use. Due to the nature of his work, the 'simple errands' have a habit of becoming day long quests instead.

Jak L. -> Works part time as a babysitter for human/monster couples. Part of this job includes helping deliver the child to the other parent's home, as neither is allowed to live in the other's community. The journey can be dangerous, but she knows the trail like the back of her hand - meaning her fare can cost as much as she likes.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Bambi -> Loves wrestling and will never say no if challenged. The scruffier the struggle the more fun she has ((she also enjoys a bit of whittling due to her dad's influence but will never admit that to him))

Jak L. -> Secretly enjoys climbing up trees to write poetry. She feels her poems are too soft and melancholic for the mysterious punk rebel persona she's trying to sculpt, so no one's ever read em :(

🎯 -What do they do best?

Bambi -> Despite wrestling being her favorite pastime, Bambi is best at parkour! The Jek taught her how to take advantage of her digitigrade legs to give her a better boost in agility

Jak L. -> Jak is convinced she's the best at everything she does, but her true passion lies in lyrical prose.

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Bambi -> Other than wrestling, Bambi loves to fish! She doesn't use a rod or bait, preferring to catch them with her own hands and teeth (not always a successful method, but it's endlessly fun for her)

She hates feeling caged in or restricted, something she and Wilton argue about often.

Jak L. -> Despite how she makes it seem, Jak loves teaching and watching over the children she's put in charge of. She likes giving them the time to explore, vent, and whatever else they want but rarely have the freedom to do.

She hates authority in all it's forms, holding a strong belief that anyone in a position of power will abuse it. It's just a matter of when.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Bambi -> She'd been around 12 years old, on a visit with Wilton into a human settlement so they could sell his carvings. She caught one of the older boys trying to set fire to their stand and tackled him. She walked away with a few scratches while he limped away with a broken nose. Her father was displeased sure, but that was nothing compared to the pride she felt at winning her first brawl.

Jak L. -> A month or two after meeting Bambi, she had introduced her to her uncle; a necromancer. Jak had always wanted to learn magic but had never found a teacher patient enough to show her. It took the whole day to master but the Lich Doctor taught her how to heal minor cuts and scrapes. It may have only been a simple spell but it meant the world to her.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Bambi -> Wilton had gotten sick and stayed worryingly ill for weeks; it didn't seem like he'd get any better. Bambi offered to get the Lich Doctor to help but he was adamantly against it, resulting in a nasty argument and Bambi leaving anyway. By the time she returned, her dad had already passed. Sure, her uncle assured her that he could reincarnate him, but it didn't change the fact that her last words to him had been "I hate you"

Jak L. -> Jak had hidden herself in her favorite tree, happily writing poems no one would ever see. Her ex didn't like the thought of her keeping secrets from them, leading to a shouting match and a frenzied fight over the pages. Once read, he misinterpreted her poems as an admission to cheating; burning her work and cursing her to never be loved again. She's been looking for a way to break it ever since.

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

Bambi -> Not at all really. The only thing left over from her first design is her yellow flannel - it's her signature character color! she looks weird without it now!!

Jak L. -> Yeah, I made Jak in January so there hasn't been a lot of (if any) evolution in her design (yet)

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

Bambi -> Originally I wanted to make a non-canon fankid for Wilton & Walt / The Jek to explore what they'd be like as parents. I based her personality off a little girl I saw aggressively splashing in rain puddles and laughing evilly. the rest is history

Jak L. -> Design practice! She wasn't going to be an OC at first, just an exercise in character design but when I finished I liked the potential too much for her to just be a one off.

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

Bambi -> YA fantasy but preferably one that has more fucked up freaky little creatures ((like the spiderwick chronicles))

Jak L. -> Whatever genre Rebel Without a Cause was ((add in a fantasy or horror element so she can keep her face))

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Bambi -> Demigirl + Lesbian! ❤️🧡🤍🩷💜

Jak L. -> Transfemme + Bisexual! ❤️💜💙

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?

Bambi -> she tried really hard to get her dads to grow a new sibling but Wilton wouldn't have it (Bambi suspects Walt planted one anyway, but has no proof)

Jak L. -> She's unsure if she has any siblings. Maybe she does, maybe she doesn't. Jak doesn't know and doesn't care to find out.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

Bambi -> Loving but a bit strained. Her parents' over-protectiveness kept her from exploring anything beyond the river mill for years and their secrecy prevented her from learning anything about their pasts. She wishes they'd respect her autonomy and not keep so many secrets from her

Jak L. -> Cold and distant. All she knows about them is that they left her behind and disappeared. She doesn't know if they died, but she wouldn't be upset if they did. As far as she's concerned, her father is the sun and her mother the moon

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

Bambi -> all the potential pathways I could take her character! Her storyline isn't set in stone like some of my other OCs so I have a lot of fun putting her in Situations™

Jak L. -> her design for sure. She's incredibly fun to draw, especially her locs & baggy t-shirt

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

Bambi -> Getting back in the habit of drawing her again now that I've gotten over my second-hand embarrassed ab sharing my stuff. I've definitely got more notes about her than I do drawings

Jak L. -> Only very recently started fleshing her out via notes/short stories. It's been fun getting to know what her personality is going to be like

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

Bambi -> I don't think I've ever thought ab killing Bambi off, not even in an angsty one-off. She's got too much of a story to tell to cut it short like that

Jak L. -> kinda? But not really dedicated to it just yet. She's too new for me to want to get rid of so quickly.

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

Bambi -> She'll claim she doesn't, but she's absolutely Claustrophobic

Jak L. -> Not exactly Pyrophobic since she can be around campfires or a fireplace well enough, but she will refuse to interact with it in any way that doesn't involve putting it out

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

Bambi -> The Big Secret her family has been hiding from her ((she hasn't really met Him yet))

Jak L. -> Jak sees every established institution as her arch nemesis

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

Bambi -> oh man it's been a loongg while....I think since 2017 or 2018? That makes her about 7 or 8 years old....wow...

Jak L. -> Jak is about 4 months old ‼️

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC?

Bambi -> I was probably 16 or 17 when I first sketched her up

Jak L. -> Can confidently confirm that I was 22 when Jak popped onto my canvas

Phew! You made it to the end! Thanks!

#ask game #deadwood #Bambi Rader #Jak L.#this was fun!!#oc lore

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platinumrosetail · 8 months

Note

I hope you like my new application.

Yandere Seth x fem reader.

Warning: from many people who love Seth. The reader is also in love with him, with the difference that she is not as clingy or seeking to possess him. What I mean is that your love for him is not selfish. Lector hides his feelings, trying to see him as he is, his uncle (because I would also like Lector to be the firstborn of Osiris again, I hope it doesn't bore him too much) even denies having kissed him when his brother Horus. did. He visited him in the temple. While Seth mistook Horus for Anubis, a reader once, Seth mistook her for Nephthys.

In short: she tries to hide her feelings and get away from him. Willing to be rejected by Seth, but what if the reader managed to make Seth fall in love with her, without the reader realizing it? That's why Seth is the one who looks for her the most.

(I hope you understand me with this long request, I will wait, don't worry. Thank you)

Extra detail: Sorry, lastly, I would like the reader's personality to be happy, carefree, mischievous, and skilled in combat. thank you

I’ll try my best! Also I’m guessing the lector parts are supposed to be reader and the male pronouns you used for the reader were supposed be female as you have mentioned for a female reader at the top right? Sorry if I misunderstood.

Warning: noob author, female reader, yandere romantic characters, and others.

Character: Seth

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had loved your uncle, Seth; god of war and sand, but you noticed on your brother and father loves him as well so you try to not make it seem like you do have feelings when in reality you do plus Seth has been through a lot.

You understood more than you should growing which made you realize that Seth also might not love after what your father did to him in the past.

You were the eldest child of Osiris and isis and the older sister to Horus, so as the older sibling you make sure he isn’t getting into trouble which then lead you both to Seth’s temple.

Horus and you would usually visit Seth’s temple when you two were younger, Horus would always intoxicate Seth and impersonate Anubis and while you were there you noticed Seth started thinking that you were Nephthys even though you were and she had locked herself up.

One day while you two were at Seth’s temple you and him were alone together and Seth kissed you. You made sure to get him intoxicated enough so he would pass out as you needed to space on what had happened between the two of you.

You start to distance yourself from him as you knew that Seth wouldn’t be interested in you like you’re to him as you’re related to Osiris and if he found out that you were technically pretending to be his wife he would be furious most likely.

But nope! You were proven wrong when he found you and took you somewhere private, confessing that he knew you weren’t his wife while he was intoxicated; though he somehow didn’t figure out how Horus was impersonating Anubis is beyond you, and fell in love with you as you’re skilled in protecting you and your loved ones as well as what you stand for plus your positive attitude and how you know how to humor others and yourself, he also loves how you’re carefree and do what you want to do and not what others tell you.

(A/n: hope y’all liked it!! I don’t really have anything else to say so hope yall have a wonderful day/evening/night!!)

#anime #anime x reader #various x reader #x reader stories #yandere x reader

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yonemurishiroku · 1 year

Note

Give me a list of all your Nico ships,I don't care how long it is or even who you ship him with,I want to know (Favourite Nico Ship?)

Yeah I want to know too.

No seriously. At this point I can't even keep track of my pairing list. It also doesn't help that I can practically eat everything that has Nico in it - regardless of... everything else. Jesus Christ.

But since you asked, I gotta try my best. I guess it's also a good chance for me to wrap up my own messy thoughts too---

Welp. Let's see. A list of Nico ships I actively contribute in because I have no idea what I know of at this point:

Solangelo, Jasico, Percico: have written about/ have plans to write about

Nico/Alabaster: tons of ideas and headcanons but have yet to decide on a writing plan. I could kill for them tho.

Thanatos/Nico: written one fanfic. Would love to write more but I run out of ideas

SELFCEST NICO. I'M SERIOUS FIGHT ME.

Eros (Cupid)/Nico: once unhealthily enjoyed making Love-you-like-an-enemy headcanons. Still do.

Erebus & Nico: I wouldn't say this as a ship... unless the term 'platonic ship' exist. I prefer to think of them as... soulmates? What do you call two lonely souls seeking each other's company?

Now to the pairings which I leech from others' content, meaning: consume but yet to contribute

Magnus/Nico: It exists and it's true and it's AWESOME

Pollux/Nico: There're at least two fics out there that had me in a chokehold

Child of Persephone x Nico ahsdjkahdkjahdka it was just one fic C'MON

Cecil Markowizt/Nico: Again. ONE fanfic. And it was Portuegeues.

Lukico

Or just platonic in general because there's potential and no one's seeing it so I'm taking it.

primordial god! chronos x ananke! nico courtesy of @avaetin. I fell so hard for it and I'm not even ashamed

Poseidon/Nico: all's Happy's fault. Like. Really.

Nipollo ajdhsajkda Brig shares the blame ok fine I'm crazy about it too and just bc Apollo's a hoe----

Anubis/Nico: thank you @/LapisLazuli13 on AO3

Dionysus/Nico but only if it's by @/robindrake93 on AO3. They have a distinguished figure for Dionysus and I'm neck deep in it

Minos/Nico: shout out to @/silenttoad on AO3 because it's the softest thing ever omfg 😭😭😭 Just for the record, their Minos is worlds different from the canon one. He's actually really nice.

Tons of crossover ships: Arthur/Nico (legitimately my RELIGION), Ciel Phantomhive/Nico,... That time I say Nezha and Nico could be friends. Like I don't... quite ship them but akdsaksaj this proves that you should never hope anything from me

I'm sure this is not all of them... I mean. I have read more. And probably forget a bunch...

I wouldn't say I have a favourite ship... well there're times that I would invest more in a specific pairing, but that doesn't mean I like other ships any less. I have 5 drafts for Jasico and then I have a Nicobaster week and then a Percico-marathon. Generally speaking though, I would say I usually... prioritize (?) the rarepairs. Since you know, the canon one and the more popular ones alr have people building the empire for them. I might be the only one invested in a Son of Persephone with Nico, for example, so I tend to gravitate towards it, in hopes of contributing a small brick for this little tent compared to their nation; or sometimes it's just because there's someone else more invested in me and their dedication fuels me (yes you @drksanctuary).

Anw I hope this gives you an insight into how wild of a being I am LMAO. I'm a proshipper. I have no qualms when it comes to enjoying fiction - as long as I enjoy it. Be free. Trust me.

As I've said, I forgo everything when it comes to Nico. He's my exception. He's always right. If he's wrong I have a few words to Rick------ jk lol or maybe not---

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speedane · 7 months

Text

A Hidden Monster

Main Character: Leon (Vali) Supporting Casts: Hailey (Hephaestus), Hall (Hodur), Q (Eros) (Phanes version by @murkyike ) Very Minor Appearance/Mention: Drew (Anubis), Long Mian (Ao Bing), Bonnie (Eris)

Number of Words: 3,188

Tags: Occasional swearing, few thrilling scenes (in a horror kind of way), slight implication of (almost) pulling Leon's eye off as well as cannibalism

Summary: Leon, still dumbfounded that he wasn't able to kill off Q, decides to do a little research with Hailey. What answer lies within the pages of the books? Will he find the answer that he was looking for, or is his mind playing tricks on him?

I am so sorry if this is gonna be too much for anybody, I tried giving the most appropriate of warnings!!

____________________________________________________________

Silence fills the air, shelves left and right. The smell of old books fills the air as Leon rummages through the pile of books on the table. Hailey, who is currently climbing down the ladder behind him, glances at him with a puzzled look.

“Do you really need to learn about every single love god there is in existence?” She steps down the ladder with a stack of books in hand and paces towards the table where Leon is. “Like, seriously, you can’t just be reading ALL of these for the rest of the weekend?”

The inventor lazily dumps all the books before sitting beside the sniper, who seem to be setting aside any book that does not interest him. He seems to only scan the contents of each book, as if looking for a needle in a haystack. “Not all of them,” Leon replied. “I’m only searching for one.”

“Oh~?” Hailey places a leg on top of another, while leaning her torso towards the table with an arm resting on one of the smaller book stacks. “Do tell me Mr. Stoneface, which one of these could possibly fancy that eye of yours?” She asks with a rather sarcastic tone in her words.

With her free hand, Hailey picks up a random book with a rather interesting cover. “Eros and Psyche…” She pouts, scrutinizing the imagery of a winged man with a fair lady in his arms. Judging by the art, the two people looked like lovers. It’s sweet, maybe too sweet for her liking. “Eh, sounds cheesy.”

As if by reflexes Leon’s head perks up and immediately grabs the book from the inventor’s hand. “I’ll take that.”

Her eyes widened. “Eh?? That one??” Hailey stares at Leon with disgust. “Don’t tell me you’re into those soft... mushy, sickening love stories??” Her stomach churns, feeling like throwing up. Fortunately for the dusty old books in the Decree’s archives, they won’t get soiled today. The fiery-haired woman places a hand over her mouth, no longer looking at the sniper. “The more I learn about you, the less I want to…”

“It’s not like that,” Leon replied nonchalantly, his eyes on the person next to him. “It’s just research… for my target.”

“Your target?” She blinks. “Oh.”

“What?”

“I thought you’re looking for love stories to woo someone…” the inventor waves her hand around as she continues. “Liiiike we barely even talk and then boom! You asked me to help you with this love god research of yours!”

The sniper only blinks.

“What I’m saying is that… isn’t this all too… convenient?” Hailey moves her hand back and forth towards the man with her palm upwards. “You? Me? Alone in this empty archive? If this was about research then an advanced notice would’ve been nice.”

Leon only sighs. “First of all, I am not trying to shoot my shot at you.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, perplexed. “Second, you were the only one here to help me.” Lowering his hand, he faces her again.

“Aw dang, where’s that big bad wolf you’re always with?”

“In the training room, amusing himself.”

“And that Hall guy?”

“Not every book on the shelves is written in Braille.”

“Riiiiiiiight so you’re now stuck with me, I get it now.”

Haily starts shuffling through books. “So, books about Eros, huh?” Lifting a hardbound book, she squints. “He’s the target?”

“His esper,” were the only words he said.

“Huh…” The inventor chooses another book and opens the table of contents. “I think I know who you’re talking about…” Slowly, her finger slides through the titles, tapping on the very topic that grabs her attention. She starts flipping the pages. “Very popular internet guy, looks like a ball of cotton candy… got beef with him?”

The sniper only stays silent, his eyes fixated on the story book in his hand.

Hailey managed to locate the chapter that she is looking for regardless. “Thought so… oh!” Her eyes went left and right. “Eros, son of Aphrodite… Personification of Love… can forcefully bind two people into a relationship.” Squinting, she reads further. “I don’t get it, what’s so special about him? Sounds like just any other love god would do.” Soon after, she let out a big gasp. “Oh no! Don’t tell me… he made you kiss a fire hydrant!”

Ignoring the inventor’s boisterous laughter, Leon continues reading the story. Glued on the edge of his seat, locked on the words in the book. He is dead set to learn about the little flying baby that miraculously survived his bullet. When did he see his hiding spot? How did he survive? What makes him tick?

The young woman peers into the book. She sees a beautifully-illustrated picture book with words large enough for even her to read. “Huh, isn’t the Shadow Decree too old for these kinds of books?” Regardless, she bends closer. “Looks gorgeous though. So that Psyche girl was supposed to be sacrificed to a horrendous winged serpent!”

“Read your own books,” Leon coldly responds without even looking at her.

“Fine, fine, geez…” The fiery-haired woman slumps back to her seat, grabbing another book to read. “And when I was finally getting interested in that cheesy love story too… hmph.”

The sniper flips page after page, but he is more interested in finding weaknesses of his opponent than learning the story. As minutes passed on, he finally closed the book shut. His eyelids are drooping, his back sore… and yet he did not find what he was looking for. The person at the seat next to him notices his tired look on his face.

“You were so focused on that one story book.” She smirks. “Found anything?”

“I found no weak points…” Leon yawns. “It was just… a love story…” he groggily rubs his eye, resting his bust on the table.

Hailey notices his exhaustion and shakes her head. “You know what, we’ve been doing this for hours now. The books may have bored you to sleep.” She stands up and walks towards the door. “If you need me, I’ll be getting some snacks.”

The sniper did not reply. With the inventor out of the scene, there is no stopping him from closing his eyes and entering into a deep sleep…

As his world fades to black, he feels at peace. No distractions, no responsibilities, no worries. He even almost forgot what he was doing a while ago…

“LEON!!”

Hailey’s sudden yelling woke him up unceremoniously. His head is in pain, his vision rather blurry. He could not make out from his surroundings, but he could tell that Hailey had entered the room and was in a hurry.

Walking down the hallway, the pair notices more henchmen passing through them. Leon suddenly gets a feeling of uneasiness… like something worse is happening outside his view. Walking further, he finally sees Hall standing in the middle of all this. The two of them stop to meet him.

“Leon, you got a new assignment, and they looked like they urgently needed your help out there!”

The sniper rubs his temple sighing, looking annoyed. “Figures.” Standing up, he grabs his saxophone and heads out with Hailey.

“Hall, why are they sending more people out there,” Leon asks.

“From what I heard, there is a hostile entity steadily approaching our base…” Hall faces the two with worry. “We need more manpower before it reaches here.”

Hailey scratches her head. “Sounds like a tough cookie… is it some sort of a miramon?”

The blind archer shakes his head. “Reports say it’s an esper. The last thing I heard was that Bonnie returned here with minor injuries, and Long Mian is stalling.”

The inventor whistles. “Did the Esper Union have a secret weapon or something? Pretty bold of them to send a single guy our way if it’s really them!”

“No time for chitchat, I’ve heard enough.” Leon cuts the conversation off and switches his saxophone into the sniper rifle he always used. “Do what needs to be done.”

Hailey separates herself from the group, taking the route to where the labs are. Leon is now paired with Hall and heads to the exit. Outside was starting to get chaotic. Various men scrambled around, preparing for a possible onslaught. Whoever this ‘hostile entity’ is is becoming a serious issue for the Decree.

The sniper turns to Hall. “You stay here and guard this entrance.”

Hall gives him a troubled look. “But what about you?”

Leon lowers his hood and turns around. “I’ll be at the sniper tower where I can see what’s really going on out there.”

Without a word, he left in a hurry, with Hall standing still by the entrance. For a sniper, the tower would be the most tactical place for him to maneuver both offensively and defensively… but it would also be the loneliest place for him.

No subordinates. No partners. Just him, his rifle, and the vast outskirts of the ruins that was once Hazlitt.

Now in position, Leon looks at the barren wasteland through the sniper scope. He scans through the area, now currently quiet. Too quiet. “Odd… did Long Mian manage to subdue the target..?

Before he could lower his rifle, he spotted a pink light towards his direction.

“What-”

And just like that, it hit him in a flash of pink sparkles, sending him on the floor with a thud. The laser temporarily made him blind, his vision only filled with a bright hot rosy color. The man winces in pain as white noise fills his ears and dizziness hits his head like banging pots and pans. He groans, but nobody could hear him. What in the world is happening in the base without him? He’s just there, laying down. Helpless.

“Leon!!”

“... Hall?”

He opened his eyes. Vision was suddenly clear as day. He heard Hall’s voice from far away. The sniper slowly stands up, struggling to keep his balance at first.

“Hall? Hall!!”

But nobody answered back.

“...”

The sudden silence made his chest feel tight. Now regaining his full senses, the sniper immediately jumped off the tower without a second thought, landing on one foot before tumbling down. By the time he looked up again, he knew immediately that there was something horribly wrong…

The entire lot that was full of chaos before is now barren. Not a single voice can be heard from any direction. What happened to everyone?

“...”

Leon paces as he scans the area. Still nothing, except for the burn marks on the concrete. The red-haired man kneels down and lightly touches the marks. Warm to the touch, as if freshly-made. Getting up again, he heads to where the entrance is. Hall was not there.

“Where did you go..?”

He gazes into the hallway within. It’s just as eerily quiet as the outside. He decides to enter in high alert, with the rifle pointing ahead, careful not to make a sound with every step. Lights above his head flicker as he moves further down the path, his heart pounding louder the deeper he gets. When he reaches the intersection point, he stops. Soon after, all lights flicker and fail except the one on top of him. Everything beyond the light turned pitch black.

Within the darkness, the sound of a slithering snake can be faintly heard. Leon quickly aims at the hallway passage on his left. As always, there was nothing… but the sniper knows he’s not alone anymore.

“I can hear you…” He aims at another hallway. “Show yourself.”

All silence. Leon is quickly losing his patience.

“I have no time for games..!”

And there he hears the same hissing from a minute ago. A honeyed voice speaks from behind him.

“How delightful it is to see you.. Leon.”

In a flash, the red-haired sniper swiftly points the rifle from the source of the voice and makes the first shot. The sound of movement is noticeable after the attack despite the deep darkness, which he took advantage of in making out his opponent’s next move.

“Don’t hide from me…”

He makes his second shot. This time he hears the hissing of a snake.

Then his third. Wings flapping can be heard almost immediately.

“This bitch can fly-”

A slither on his top right. A shot fires again. A hard landing to his rear. And another shot resounds into the void. No matter how many shots he throws at it, the thing doesn’t seem to go down. The mix of adrenaline, frustration, and fear makes his heart pound faster than he ever felt for years. He’s a cornered rat.

“Your heart is beating so loud…” The voice became more venomous.

It finally makes its first move and flicks its reptilian tail towards Leon, disarming him in the same process. He let out a wince and tumbles down to the cold hard floor. He sees his rifle beside him, but as he turns and reaches for it, the tail has already coiled around his body and pulls him up in the air. Now binded, the man is now helpless in cold sweat.

“Let.. Let me go..!”

He attempts to wiggle out. However, it was of no use.

His opponent lets out a soft chuckle. “Resistance is futile, you know.”

The last remaining light starts to fail, and eventually leaves Leon devoid of light. He could still feel the tail that constricts him, and it only gets tighter. Almost choking.

“Who.. are you..?”

“You still haven’t figured it out? Poor you~”

Leon senses that his shoulders are being held with soft, human hands. The sharp nails poking on the fabric of his hood doesn’t make this fact relieving though. But he could still feel it in his skin. And it’s really unnerving.

In front of him has two purple eyes flashing right at his face, their slit pupils piercing into his soul. The voice becomes more distorted.

“I thought you did your research?”

“You..”

The once dim area gradually gets illuminated by a bright golden light, showing the wings of his assailant, and his true nature.

“Or have you already forgotten about me?”

“Tch… I should’ve known it was you…”

Lo and behold, the one who’s been attacking the Shadow Decree all this time is none other than his target… or what he thinks to be.

Unlike the usual youthful appearance of the cupid, the one that stands in front of him is much taller. And much more menacing.

“Ding dong!”

“What did you do to them? What did you do to Hall..?!”

‘Q’ gives him an eerie smile, showing both of his sharp fangs. “Oh trust me… you don’t wanna know.”

The red-haired man grits his teeth. “Is this what you’ve been hiding from me? Is this how you survived… my bullet?”

The other esper lets go of one hand and cutely pokes his own cheek with a matching head tilt. “Oh no, it’s no secret~”

With the same finger, he lightly pokes his nose. “You’ve read this, remember?” The man pulls the other closer to his eyes. “Or should I say, your lady friend?”

“H-Hailey…”

Three words resounding within his mind. Words he didn’t know were relevant until now: Horrendous. Winged. Serpent.

The snake tail, the sharp fangs, the feathery golden wings, and those monstrous eyes… It all makes sense now. This is no longer the small annoying target that Leon knows of. This is a threat of a high caliber, a threat that manifested from his inner fears, a threat he couldn’t kill.

The constricting tail continues to choke the sniper, and sooner or later he’s going to run out of air to breathe. Yet, he could do nothing but watch as the winged serpent in front of him gets amusement from his suffering. At this very moment, he’d pretty much rather be dead than having to look at his deceptively sweet face.

“Go on… kill me already-”

“Oh, not yet…”

Both of their eyes are locked on each other, and nobody would want to let go. Pure, visceral rage fills Leon’s heart as ‘Q’ stares at him mockingly. His arms are still binded, his feet frozen, and his breaths becoming shorter.

“You know, I’m feeling quite peckish right now…” The wings on the serpent’s head flutter lightly, happy thoughts in mind. “I was thinking of getting something sweet!”

Leon could feel one of this monster’s fingers gently brushing on his freckled face, like a little plaything.

“You know what your red hair and speckled cheeks remind me of?”

He leans closer to his ear and lets out a whisper.

“Strawberriiieeesssss…”

A soft gasp can be heard from the hooded man. There is no way this beast is thinking of what’s in his head right now… but the heavens are finally merciful enough to give him an answer as one of his clawed hands starts creeping into one of his eyes.

“I was thinking… hmmm… strawberry tarts.”

Leon wants to look away. But he can’t. The man’s body is unresponsive, like a plant. Not even a sound escapes from his mouth, not a tear from his eyes. He’s facing his death, and he can’t do anything about it… With no time to waste, the hand grabs his face and he lets out a loud, painful scream.

The next thing he knew, he could hear books dropping on the floor, and his eyes could finally see the light of the archives again. A familiar voice speaks.

“Aw man, I was about to make it to five stacks!”

He finds himself back at the same table he was sleeping on, with sweat on his face and a messy set of red hair. Nothing binding his body, no hands grabbing his face. He is where he was before everything started… or did he even leave at all?

“Am I back…?” The man stares into nothing as Hailey starts picking up the books that fell with his rude awakening.

“Back? Pff, you’ve been sleeping for an hour and a half!” The young woman places the books on the table and grabs her phone that has been opened for a while. “Anyway, while you’re asleep, I started doing my own research as well.”

She puts the screen directly at Leon’s face that currently shows a livestream of a flying baby and a butler jackal.

“You can put your preferred fruit on top of the tarts. Make sure that they are fresh and delectable to eat.”

“I want mine with strawberries!!”

Strawberries… strawberries. The word echoes in his head, bringing him back to that very moment in his nightmare. The inventor only laughs at the seemingly innocent scene of a small boy putting strawberries on his tarts, unaware of the ordeal that he had to endure in his sleep.

“You know, for a target, he’s such a comedian! Goofy-ass motherfucker.”

“I’ll get some milk…”

With no words left to say, Leon gets up from his seat and leaves the archives. Hailey’s eyes shifted from the door that he went through, to the pile of books left on the table, and back to the door with an unamused look.

“I am NOT cleaning this up.”

#jee writes #dislyte #leon dislyte #hailey dislyte #q dislyte #hall dislyte #second dislyte fic in and it's 3k words I am so sorry for that #also yes I wrote a leon fic #TOOK ME A LOT OF RESTRAINT WHILE WRITING THIS #cause I had to make sure that this is a Leon fic #not a Q fic #LMAO #dislyte fanfiction #fanfiction #shoutout to Murky for allowing me to writing about his blorbo

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