#miscellaneous short stories
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Spoiled Rotten
Synopsis: Have you ever asked yourself what the typical morning is like for a supervillain who is also single father? Wonder no more. The morning of another big attempt to conquer the city, Lord Obliterator must first face the second greatest challenge: feeding his four-year-old daughter.
This is a pretty old story. Hopefully is suits your supervillain needs. ^^"
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Ah. Nothing more refreshing than the promise of crushing enemies, conquering the city, and sweet, sweet revenge, in the morning.
No sooner had Lord Obliterator opened his eyes had an explosion sounded, rattling the house. Oh, shit, they’ve found us, he thought to himself. In a rush of adrenaline, the supervillain armed himself with an electro-gun and threw himself out of his bedroom into the hallway.
Lord Obliterator aimed his firearm to fry the trespassing superhero to a crisp, only to look down and sigh in relief.
“Now what did we talk about?” The villain stooped down to pluck a magma gun from a child’s small grip and wagged a finger. “No handling firearms without my supervision, Bonnie!”
“Aww!” Bonnie whined. “But I was gonna take it to show-and-tell today!”
It took everything in Lord Obliterator’s power to control his paternal pride as he lowered himself to one knee and placed a massive hand on her head. “Look darling, I understand why you want to take a family invention. We’re incredible. However, it’s just not safe to disclose our weapons to the lesser people of mankind. People would be greedy, manufacture more but slightly tweak its design to pass it as their own. Next thing you know, we’d be stuck in the middle of a multi-million dollar lawsuit! Do you understand, my little imp?”
“Okay,” Bonnie said dejectedly, kicking out her foot. “Then…can I bring my taxidermy collection instead?”
“Wonderful alternative, darling!” Lord Obliterator beamed. Then, he clapped twice before saying, “Now go ready for kindergarten, while Papa gets himself ready to fire the Ultra Death Beam in the city square today!”
“Okay!” the little girl squealed, her thick braids bouncing as she skipped merrily to her room.
Meanwhile, Lord Obliterator gazed at the sizzling, melted hole in the wall. Yet another repair to add to the bills, he thought mournfully.
Well, it wasn’t proper to take over the city looking like a hot mess. How embarrassing it would be if he looked like a zombie on the front page of the newspaper, when he took over the city!
Lord Obliterator changed out of his “I’m Secretly a Princess” t-shirt (a birthday present from his darling daughter) into his most malicious-looking suit of armor, and styled his frizzled black hair into a slick ponytail before making his way to torture cham—uh, the kitchen.
“ARGH!” he cried, lifting his foot to find a doll shoe practically embedded underneath. A villain couldn’t even practice his own stride through his own halls without getting assaulted by stray toys lying around like traps! Lord Obliterator made a mental note to talk to his daughter about this later.
Eventually, he arrived, Bonnie—now wearing a black dress with buckles—seated at the counter, banging her spoon-grasping fists and death-metal screeching, “ICE-CREAM! ICE-CREAM!”
Lord Obliterator was careful not to react, for, unknown to Bonnie, breakfast would be different that morning. Today, Lord Obliterator would be a good parent and feed her something truly evil—and nutritious, of course.
The villain hurried about the room, frequenting the refrigerator and the pantry while managing the coffee-maker, toaster, and stove. A symphony of metallic clunking, cracking, sizzling, gurgling, sloshing, and beeping filled the place, while Bonnie continued her scream-chant. With Bonnie, there was no real way of telling whether she was summoning food or demons.
After ten minutes of tackling one of his few attempts at cooking and shoving down his crippling self-doubt, the fruit of Lord Obliterator’s efforts was done. He cackled sinisterly.
“Behold! The most evil breakfast of all!” Lord Obliterator announced.
Bonnie shrieked, writhing with such vigorous glee that her chair almost toppled over.
The villain twirled for an extra flare of drama before setting down the plate of mushy, yellow…
“Eggs!” he said in a sing-song voice.
The little girl scrunched up her face before fixing Lord Obliterator with a hellish glare.
“What’s the meaning of this?” she said dangerously, every trace of excitement gone.
Lord Obliterator expected something like this to happen; Bonnie was always stubborn when it came to food. Still, he couldn’t help but chuckle with a twinge of unease as he sat down at his side of the table.
“Ah-aha, eggs, darling. This is the cooked substance of unborn fetuses from chickens robbed against their will! Isn’t that sinister?” he said.
“Where’s my peanut-butter ice-cream? Where’s my chocolate pudding?” Bonnie persisted. “Stuff that makes your teeth rot?!”
Of course, sugary sweets did technically count as evil for the consequences they bring; however, Bonnie’s dental bills weren’t getting any cheaper.
“B-But a chicken’s family line has been taken from them, never to be regained! Their unborn offspring taste delicious, and they give you the strength to destroy your enemies! Doesn’t that sound—”
“I hate eggs! I’ve always hated them my entire life!” Bonnie interrupted, letting out a scream as she flung her spoons so forcefully they pierced the wall—had Lord Obliterator not ducked in time, it would have been his head.
Lord Obliterator sighed shakily. He didn’t want it to come to this. The villain rose from his seat, cracking his knuckles as he approached his young daughter…
Then threw himself onto the floor.
“Please eat! How terrible of a parent Papa would feel if he took over the city today knowing that he let his only daughter go to school starved! Ple-he-hease!” he begged tearfully, his hands clasped in front of him.
“NEVER! Not until you give me sweets!” Bonnie roared.
“Please?! Just one bite for your old man?!” Lord Obliterator groveled.
Bonnie’s face contorted and flushed, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. The room was deadly still, right before a bomb explosion—the villain could practically see the wick burn down to his daughter’s head—then, she let out a wail that could make even the dead cover their ears as she dropped to the floor, kicking, banging and screaming as if she were possessed.
“YOU DON’T LOVE ME ANYMORE!” she cried. “I’D RATHER LIVE WITH A SUPERHERO THAN LIVE WITH YOU!”
Lord Obliterator doubled over, dramatically clutching his heart as though a bullet had torn straight through it. Superhero. Superhero. The one time I try to make something beneficial for my kid and she compares me to those fiends! Oh, Lenora, how did you ever handle such insanity?
“Look! You can have ice cream for breakfast, okay?! No, cake! No, ice-cream cake! Doesn’t that sound nice? Please, please stop crying!” the villain pleaded.
“Okay!” Bonnie said, springing back up.
A pause, in which Lord Obliterator sighed in relief. “But this is the last time, got it? No more mister push-over,” he told his daughter, fetching her her promised dessert.
🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱 🕱
“Are you all packed? Got your lunch? Your collection?” Lord Obliterator asked his child at the door, the bus just arriving.
“All here!” Bonnie said, bouncing up and down wearing a purple skull-print backpack larger than her.
“Good. Now, remember what to do if any of the other kids mess with you?”
“I clobber them! Teach them the meaning of the word pain! Demolition!” she screeched, bawling her hands into fists and giving her best evil cackle.
“That’s my girl.” Lord Obliterator sniffed, a single tear rolling down his cheek.
“Good luck on the Ultra Death Beam!” Bonnie said before taking off for the school bus.
Lord Obliterator sighed heavily. As difficult as it was to be a villain and a parent, he had to admit that both were worthwhile.
Another morning, another glorious opportunity to wreak destruction.
#supervillain#super villain#super villains#villain#villain prompts#villain prompt#short stories#short story#miscellaneous flash fiction#miscellaneous short stories
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Roses
A semi-horror short story, entirely told through the narration by the antagonist, with implied actions/dialogue by the reader here and there. Basically, an anthophile is taking you on a tour of her house
*disclaimer: I don't write much in the realm of horror, this was one of my attempts at venturing into the genre and was written maybe... 2 years ago? So it might be a bit lackluster or awkwardly written; constructive criticism is welcome as always :3
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Why roses, you ask? They're so... beautiful, so fascinating. I wished to fill my whole life with them, and so I did.
Lovely red gardens surround my home; I've even got a statue of one in the center of the yard! Paintings and tapestries turn the walls into yet another rose garden, and the flowers decorate the pillows of my couch and fill various vases on every table.
In my study I have a shelf which holds every book about roses I could get my hands on- gardening guides, botanist's studies, poetry, you name it.
I even named my cat Rose, and the cat before her, and the cat before him, and so on.
I tried to dye rose patterns into my hair, but it always turned out quite messy and a bit gruesome-looking. So I decided to have them tattooed all over my body instead!
Ah, you've noticed all the smoke. There are a lot of rose-scented candles burning around the house. My shampoo, lotion, and all that- those are rose-scented too! Isn't it a delightful aroma?
I'm glad you agree. My neighbors didn't like it so much. They whispered about me behind my back, calling me awful things like "obsessed" and "fanatic," but they simply didn't appreciate my dedication toward my interests.
But anyway, off of such distasteful topics! Would you like some rose hip tea? I enjoy a cup every afternoon, and you're just in time. There are cupcakes under that glass, if you'd like one. Pretty, aren't they? Cake without sugared rose petals decorating the frosting is a culinary travesty, if you ask me.
Why are you looking at me like that? What do you mean, "all the cabinets are full of dead roses?" Of course they are! Do you think I'd just throw them out after they wilt? Don't be silly. You're starting to sound like my neighbors.
Well, if you don't like my kitchen, at least come down to see my personal laboratory. I'm something of a botanist myself. Come along; we're almost done with the tour.
Just down these stairs here, and through this door-
Yes, the room is soundproofed; I can't have anything disturbing my work, now can I?
Well, what do you think? Topiaries, strangling vines, the biggest roses you've ever seen- I'm quite proud of it all. I've been playing around with horticulture, genetic manipulation, controlled growth-
What are you doing?
That door is locked, silly. You won't get out that way. Why do you look so frightened, anyway?
Oh, that? That was Paul; he lived two doors down. He said my climbing vines were ugly, so I thought he ought to get to know them better. They're quite close now, as you can see. Isn't that nice? Paul doesn't insult my plants anymore, that's for sure!
Stop shaking, dear, you'll knock over my flower pots. They weren't originally that red, did you know?
Ah, well, how could you have? But don't fret, I'll let you in on the secret: I acquired the all-natural red paint from my annoying neighbor Shirley.
She used to complain about all the thorns that got into her yard from my rosebushes, said they were getting stuck in her children's feet. I figured, well, I'd give her something to complain about!
Though she doesn't do much of that these days; it's hard to whine with a four-foot thorn through your stomach, as one might expect.
I don't suppose you want to see the rest?
No?
All right, well that concludes our tour then.
"Leave?" No, silly, you don't leave at the end of my tour. Now you get to join the collection!
Isn't that exciting?
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this is maybe not the best idea bc i owe approximately 1 million things but i wanna do a little starter call!! theyll probably be short (<- potentially lying, every time i say this i end up writing more than i intend to) bc im just trying to kick myself back into the swing of writing :) please make sure to specify muse/s, and im also always available for plotting if youd rather go that route!!
#lies down. im exhausted. one of my roommates invited friends over yesterday when last id heard only one was coming over#and that was so she could use my roommate's sewing machine bc hers is broken. but long story short there was like#an impromptu party i was not prepared for and i am so tired today#anyway. 👍#‧ miscellaneous. → 「 starter call. 」
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You have other visual novels (or IFs)???? On my knees respectfully begging for the name(s) 🙏 if you're comfortable sharing that is
I do! I'm planning on just putting Burning Academia on my main itch.io page because making a separate account sounds tedious lol so I don't mind sharing the link.
I only have 2 finished games and a demo for a tentative project as far as VNs go + a novella and short story collection on there. But to anon and anyone else reading this, I'm going to need you to promise me to keep one thing in mind, ok?
Memory Ghosts was my first attempt at making a VN in 2020 and if you play it, it's not reflective of any of my current skills lmfaO
Anyway here's my itch.io page.
Also some quick guidelines, although I'm sure it's probably obvious:
This blog is just for BA. I won't answer anything related to my other projects on here.
Less a point and more an add on to 1; Despite me ultimately deciding to put BA on my main itch.io page I do want to keep this separate from everything else for personal reasons. This means the opposite is true. If you're also interested in Everything Else and follow my ""main""" tumblr I won't answer questions there in regards to BA. In fact, you'll likely never find mention of it there.
#em answers#miscellaneous#also it's not super serious reasons it's just personal preference#part of it is all my other work is 13 plus and this Is Not#and while BA is only 17plus I'm clearly fine with the blog being 18plus and I don't want those two things to mix especially#anyway my personal recommendation of my work is either PRETTYBOY INC or We Are Connected short stories btw#I think the first two stories in We Are Connected are the closest to how the writing kinda sounds in this#please note my writing style changes every project though#trigger warnings are on each individual page btw!#sorry for ranting just wanted to get that all out of the way now lol
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in every universe adachi and the attendant ARE friends it's just that the one we're in is the outlier.
#kommento#// it SUCKS here . come on#// somewhere out there is a musical stageplay and they have a duet and it reprises in a minor key during the magatsuinaba arc#// somewhere out there their actors start queerbaiting on instagram stories and yt shorts to promote the stageplay and it WORKS#// theres a mangaka revealing in an interview they have an annotated copy of sogabe's volume 12 with sticky notes flaglets and bite marks#// theres a spinoff novel writer surprised as much as atIus how people liked their part specifically in the anthology with other writers#// theres a miscellaneous drama cd of glimpses of life outside the IT and the mystery itself and the bts says that kasuyan cosplayed#// theres a pixiv artist drawing them since 2009 and have cryptic art in the middle of their own gag 4koma and other longform manga project#// im stuck in the universe where everyone else sucks and i put them in tomodachi life so mimi gets divorced 4 times
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A Brother's Mirth
Other Works - Ask Box - EPUBs + Ko-fi - Discord - Twitter
When the sun set that day, what rose on its tail was not the moon, but a second sun.
Alarm cropped up from this development, as was fully understandable. People from all over the world stood outside in unison to look and marvel, confused and terrified by the sight of two identical suns in the sky.
Everyone panicked in their own way. Some locked themselves up in their homes, some took to being entertainingly vocal, and some used the confusion to riot and loot for material items. Humans were wont to do that, despite those things most certainly not mattering in the long term.
Those religious took this as a sign of their deities’ anger, calling immediately for prayers and sacrifice and whatever else they believed would work to get the unwelcome celestial body removed from the sky.
Those non-religious took to their telescopes to observe, trying to determine how this phenomenonsense had occurred. When nothing was forthcoming, they took to recordings to figure out the method and time the second sun had gotten there. The answers to both, unlike the object they were about, illuminated nothing, for it had 1) simply popped into existence for no discernible reason or observable means, and) 17:24 Chamorro time meant very little.
No matter what god one prayed to or what branch of science one turned to for solutions, the world continued to grow hotter.
It was during this event that nighttime’s absence made its own importance abundantly clear. The Earth’s crust now had no reprieve from the Sun’s light, each sunset chased immediately by sunrise, the heat continuing to bake dirt and plants and living creatures, never staved away by the planet rotating away from the source.
As could be imagined, this was not too good for the earthlings, though the Earth itself rejoiced.
It took mere days for the heat to reach unbearable levels. Those that could holed up inside their homes, those that couldn’t cooked to death on pavement while they still breathed. Animals less lucky died near sources of water, which also swiftly dried up.
The humans continued to vainly panic and pray and beg for relief from anyone listening.
The only thing that could hear them would never give them any mercy.
Nobody was coming to save them, the poor things. All their primordial beliefs, all their higher knowledge, all their hope… all of it had been for hilarious naught.
It did not take long for all water to evaporate, for all life to die, for the atmosphere to scatter into space, for all the corpses to be burnt to dust, for the ground to be parched, cracked, barren nothing.
Fragile was life, for it had not lasted a week beneath the sunlight it loved. Foolish was life, for it had wasted time hating and eating its fellows of a shared fate. Funny was life, for its end entertained that which
Then—and only then—did the sun’s twin let out a screeching laugh.
The sound bounced off of dark matter. It seared into the void and beyond, never to be heard by anyone, anything, anytime, anyplace. The vibrations destroyed that nothingness, replacing it with an indescribable somethingness.
Quiet as death, this laughter was. Quiet as the silent demise of a planet full of life.
Its gaiety ended as quick as it had started. In much the same matter, it left as suddenly as it had arrived, blinking out of existence.
And the Earth—now nameless, since no one was left to utter it—continued to spin.
#>barges into your solar system >kills everyone >refuses to elaborate >leaves#short story#short stories#microfiction#cosmic horror#miscellaneous microfictions
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These Hearts of Fire and Stone
Another short story I wrote! Used a prompt for this one (the first paragraph), which meant I had to write in first person AND in present tense which was a fun challenge.
taglist (reply/reblog/etc to ask to be added or removed!): @talesfromaurea
content warnings: burn injuries, self-harm, violence, cursing, mentions of war and death, the apocalypse
word count: ~3700
She believes in me. She has always believed in me, in a way no one else ever has, and no one else ever will, and I’m betraying her. And the worst part? She doesn’t even know. She still thinks I deserve her faith, like I’m some sort of slightly broken saint.
I close my fist around the piece of glass, and its edges draw blood. It’s an interesting feeling, inflicting pain on purpose. It hurts, but I have to do it. There’s no choice. I grit my teeth and squeeze harder on the shard of the mirror.
As my blood drips to the floor, I feel the spell complete, and I look back up. Something else has replaced my reflection in the broken mirror, a faceless smoking cloud, its only features two eyes, bright and yellow like searchlights. Though I shouldn’t be able to, I can hear the thing hiss.
Its eyes lock onto me, clawing at me with nothing but a gaze. “Oh my, you’re an interesting one.” An engine-like hum rolls from the mirror. “ You’re trying to fight fate… to have everything at once. You want to, but you can’t, can you?”
I say nothing.
“Your world is doomed. You are doomed. And she’s the only one that can save you all.”
Smoke curls from the cracks in the mirror.
“But you… you know what that costs. And you can’t bear it.”
“No, I can’t. I’ll give you whatever it takes to save her.”
A screech like a thousand machines grinding to a halt fills the abandoned building, and the thing laughs. My heart stops in my chest, skipping one too many beats.
The smoky figure inhales, and I can practically hear it grinning. “Now she cannot die, no matter what happens. But know that there will be consequences for defying destiny.”
Footsteps sound on the street outside, echoing up through the ruins of the complex. The creature in the mirror disappears, and my own ragged reflection returns. It seems to judge me too, so I scowl at it.
“Vic, where’d you go? You finish your spell yet? We’ve gotta move, I think they’re getting closer!”
At the sound of her voice, I drop the shard I’d been clutching and kick apart the ash and rubble I’d used for the summoning.
“Vic!”
I take a deep breath. What have I done?
”Up here! I’m heading down, just hold on a sec,” I shout down, my voice echoing through the concrete bones of the building. A short climb back down the elevator shaft and I’m back on the streets of the city, where Alexei is waiting.
“Hey, wh-- wait. What happened to your hand?”
I hadn’t even realized, but as I look down I can see that my climb has only made the bleeding worse.
“Nothing, just… cut myself climbing around in there.” It wasn’t technically a lie, but it still feels gross coming out of my mouth. I’d lied a thousand times, but to her? It felt wrong.
Alexei sighs an all-too-familiar sigh, but she doesn’t seem to notice my hesitation. “You’ve gotta be more careful, Vic. I’m not gonna pretend I understand the intricacies of your magic, but still, you could be more cautious. Give it here,” she says as she grabs my hand, pulling bandages out of her bag.
“How many of those things do you have in there anyway?” I say, desperate to change the subject as I watch the bag nearly spill from the strain of all the random things she’s got stuffed in it.
“Hm. Not enough to keep up with you, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she says, gently flicking my nose. “Nah, in all honesty, I just snagged a few offa that airship we stowed away on last week. Rest’a this is just the usual scavenging stuff.” She finishes the bandage, and pauses, looking down at the wound like she’d left something important in there. “Get the feelin’ I won’t be using ‘em much after today, though.”
I close my eyes as my chest tightens. She keeps talking like this, like she’s not gonna come back.
“You don’t have to come along, you know,” she says, quieter than I’ve ever heard her before. She sounds… scared?
“It’s my choice,” I say, cutting her off before she can keep saying those terrible things. “It’s my choice, and I’m coming with you.”
She smiles, but her eyes are sad. “Thank you.”
“Don’t. If anything…” My words catch in my throat, and I’m reminded of the screech of metal. “If anything, I should be thanking you. You’re the heroic one. I’m just me.”
She sighs again. She didn’t used to sigh like that, but it’s been too long since we’ve slept in real beds, since we’ve had decent food, since we’ve woken up to the sound of something other than the sounds of distant artillery and war-magic.
“But you’re also my friend. If I’m gonna repel into the core of the planet and try to end the apocalypse with anybody, I want it to be you,” she says after a moment.
“We could still leave. Maybe try to sneak onto another airship, make for the other side of the planet. Let somebody else stop the end of the world,” I say, barely whispering. Before she speaks I already know the answer.
“No, Vic. There is no one else, we both know that. If the imperials catch us you know what’ll happen. They’re never going to give up their power, not when they can just hide away and let the rest of us take the fallout of their hubris.”
As if to underline her point, a distant boom echoes through the streets, and we share a look. They’re getting closer.
“Shit, we gotta go,” she says, taking off into the streets.
The dreary broken buildings we run past are a familiar sight now. We’ve been in the old capitol a few days, trying to get to the center, where the well to the core of the planet is. Old shattered windows and twisted husks of metal are scattered in our path, remnants from when the wars first broke out. Despite being the biggest city on the planet, it was the first to fall. Ironic.
Now, the whole city is buried in ash-colored snow. It’s like this all over the world, but especially here. Nothing lives, nothing dies, it’s just… cold. Since the fire was taken from the core, our planet’s been spiraling into an apocalyptic winter. Then resource wars, and imperials, and suffering, and now, us. The two of us, trying to fix it all on our own.
It takes a long time to reach the city center. Alex keeps just ahead of me, leading me through the maze of stone and steel. We don’t talk much. What is there to say? We’re about to try and reignite the core of a fucking planet.
It feels like a fever dream. The whole world’s fallen apart like a house of cards, and somehow I’m the one staring down a mineshaft to the center of the world with the bright idea to just go magically flip the lights back on.
The old walkways and wires still descend into the well, hanging as if frozen in a moment long past. I can see the ash-marks on the metal, and the feeling of death permeates the air: still, stale, and silent like the scaffolding all around us.
As we begin our descent into the well, I look one last time at the surface. Sickly clouds and falling snow blot out the already fading light, and Alex and I plunge into the depths. The darkness doesn’t last long, as the orange glow of hot metal begins to light the path ahead of me.
Alex turns back to me, a pained smile on her face as she super-heats her cyborg augmentations for light.
“Can you see alright Vic?”
I watch the orange heat flood the scar tissue that surrounds the metallic implants. “Yeah, I can see. You’re sure you’ll be alright?”
“I’m used to it.”
I sigh, and nod, and we keep climbing deeper. The further from the surface we get, a chill starts to settle in, and I lose all track of time. Hours or days could have passed, and we wouldn’t have known the difference.
As time wears on, the chill turns to a vicious freezing cold, and I’m practically clinging to Alexei for warmth. The icy air is accompanied by the sound of frantic and fading whirring. It’s close now.
The tunnel gets smaller and smaller and smaller, until there’s barely enough room for the two of us to climb down single file.
My cut hand still stings with every clash against the rock, but something feels… different. The next time we stop to rest, I hide my hand and unwrap the bandages just slightly to peek at the wound. I curse internally. Where the cut is, my skin is cracking away to reveal something beneath: my palm, as gray and rough as the rocky walls around me. I can hear that damn thing I summoned laughing in my head, and I know: this is the price of my deal.
I wrap my hand again, so Alex doesn’t see, and we continue ever downward. No need to worry her now, and have to lie again.
And even as I feel my hand petrifying, some small part of me, watching her glow go deeper into the well, whispers vain hopes.
Maybe she’ll survive the energy transfer.
Maybe she isn’t lying about being used to the implants, maybe they won’t actually kill her.
Maybe my deal won’t be necessary, because everything will work out.
That small voice doesn’t last long, silenced in awe and horror as I stare at the frozen core of the planet below us.
The spherical core is probably hundreds of miles across, suspended in midair at the center of a massive cavern. The millions of rusty metallic parts are either frozen solid or weakly sparking and spasming, like a malfunctioning mechanical heart for the entire world.
All the breath escapes my lungs and freezes in the air. Next to me, Alexei throws her rope down to the surface, her lips tight with finality.
“This is it. You ready?” she asks.
No.
“Yeah, ready as I’ll ever be,” I say, wishing I could lock my heart in my chest so I wouldn’t want to scream and tell her I was lying.
Alex takes a deep breath, then chuckles. “Let’s fuckin’ save the world.”
Together, we drop down to the outside of the core.
As we land on the icy metal, there’s a moment where my foot slips, and I feel myself falling, but before I can blink Alex has caught me. Wordlessly but gently, she brings me back to my feet.
She nods to me, and I focus my mind. I breathe deep once, twice, and then all of my fears rip out of my throat in the form of magic. We both step back as the rusted metal below us bends and tears away from its protective shell, revealing a heat exhaust vent plenty big enough for us to climb down into.
“Oh joy, more climbing,” I mutter.
Alex laughs quietly, then ducks into the vent. The inside of the core is a labyrinth of machinery either long gone or nearly gone, and what faint power still trickles through it wheezes like a quickly dying beast.
I have to use my magic to clear the path a few more times, and each time I can feel the petrification spreading. By the time we reach the nexus, my elbow can barely move, but Alex hasn’t noticed yet. Or doesn’t care. I know it’s not true, but I can hope it’s the second one.
Maybe it’ll lessen the sting if she never cared.
No sooner did the thought cross my mind, and then I was falling, unable to hold on to the rope as my elbow and hand refuse to move.
I cry out in shock, tumbling out of the vents and slamming to the cold metal floor of the core’s center.
My view of the nexus is instantly blocked by Alexei rushing over to me, panic written on her face. “Whoa, Vic! What happened, are you okay? How— Oh shit, your arm.”
I groan in pain. Should’ve known I wouldn’t be able to keep the secret forever.
“It’s nothing, Al, I—“
“Bullshit. Why does it look— Are you turning to stone? What the hell, Vic? What’s going on?!?”
I pull back at the anger in her voice. This is it, this is what happens.
“It doesn’t matter, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, you have a planet to save.”
“Like hell. I couldn’t’a got here without you, I’m not just gonna stop caring. Can you walk?”
I nod.
“Then come on. Don’t make me do this alone,” she says, pulling me to my feet by my good arm and putting her arm around me. I lean in, still shivering from the freezing cold that coats the place.
A massive machine, a faint ember of a glow surrounding it, sits in the center of the spherical room, supported on all sides by metallic pillars and pistons. The entire outside of the room is coated with ice crystals that point inward like jagged hungry vulture’s beaks, but the nexus itself seems to hold some small shred of heat. A thin metal walkway connects it to where we’ve landed.
Together, Alexei and I walk up to the heart of our planet.
On the side of the nexus is a door. The vault is long since broken into, and it hangs open, revealing the port that all the energy that powered the core once flowed through. Al stares at it for a long moment. Then she closes her eyes, and her implants begin to glow hotter and hotter. Power courses along the wire inlays on her skin, and she looks me in the eyes.
“Alright, here's the plan. I’m going in there. I’m gonna lock myself in as the power source and try to restart the core. Do not pull me out.” She says, her voice eerily still.
“Al-“
“No, Vic. I gotta do this, and you gotta let me. I love you, and I’m sorry, but this is my fate,” she whispers.
Before I can argue, she steps into the chamber, and locks it from the inside, the light burning beneath her skin shining through the single window.
I run up to the door, beating on the glass, but she turns away. She clasps thick metal bands around her arms, takes a deep breath, and then places her hands into the energy port.
She screams.
Blinding heat blasts from the nexus, shooting along the walls and shattering the ice crystals. The mechanisms in the walls begin to rotate, buzzing to life as Alexei pours her own life into the core of the planet, and I’m stuck on the outside, watching. Her skin begins to smoke and melt, her face contorted in perpetual screaming. I can’t watch, but I can’t bring myself to look away for fear she’ll die as soon as I do.
My heart shatters in my chest. I keep beating on the door, crying and shouting to her even though she can’t hear me. Even my own skin begins to sear from the heat, except where it’s become stone. I can feel the very planet itself rumbling as Alexei burns. And in the back of my mind, the final thread snaps.
I drop to my knees, screaming to whichever direction I think the sky might be. “Can’t you see it’s killing her? It’s killing her, please! You swore! You swore she wouldn’t die! Uphold our bargain! Save her, dammit!”
The words leave my mouth, and all around me the mechanical heart of the planet grinds to a halt, an eerily familiar screech. Yet still, light cascades from the nexus. Summoning up any magic I can, I rip the door from its hinges and am met by another blast of heat.
Alexei’s skin is still smoking, but her metal implants lie cool and her eyes lack their glow. She desperately reaches for the energy port, but nothing happens. “What? I- how? Is… it’s not enough…” she growls, voice coarse and laced heavily with pain. I reach forward to grab her, pull her away, anything to save her, when the nexus explodes.
Thick smoke and shards of metal fill the air, and we’re thrown back from the center with the force of a massive bomb.
We land together, but before I can stand, Alexei shoves me away, desperately running back towards the ruined nexus. “No, no, no! What the hell did you do?!?” she cries, whirling around on me, a different kind of firein her eyes now.
“I- I can’t lose you. I saw you in there and I couldn’t take it and I had to get you out,” I say, rambling now.
“Fuck’s sake, I just said not to do that, Vic! And that still doesn’t tell me what exactly just happened— oh no. Your whole arm is stone now. Does that have something to do with it?”
She’s right, and I can feel it spreading to my chest. I nod, ashamed, but then I see it: her hands are stone too.
All my shame gone for the moment, I stand up, rushing to her. “No. NO.” I turn to yell into the smoke. “This is my punishment, not hers! She’s supposed to live! This is my curse!”
In the smoking wreckage, two searchlight eyes appear. “That was not our deal. I claimed only that she would never die, not that she would always live.”
“You—“
“You made the deal,” it laughs. “This is your fault. Now, you’ll both be stone forever, on a dead planet you sacrificed just to fail to save your only friend.”
“Vic. What the hell is that?”
I can’t speak, my heart sinking as I realize my terrible mistake.
“Vic. What. did. you. do?”
I try to respond, but nothing’s making sense.
”SHE DENIED YOU YOUR FATE,” booms a deep monotone voice from behind us.
Alex grabs their ears, looking at me. “Is this you too?”
Tears streak down my face as I shake my head, slowly turning to see a massive ethereal face made entirely of machines and gears.
“I AM THE CHOSEN OF DESTINY HERSELF. I AM FATE. AND YOU HAVE DENIED ME, HUMAN.” As the face speaks, the machinery around them grinds, glows and sparks. “BECAUSE OF YOU, YOUR FRIEND WILL BECOME STONE ALONGSIDE YOU, RATHER THAN BE CONSUMED BY FIRE, BUT YOUR WHOLE PLANET WILL DIE. SUCH IS THE COST.”
“No, wait, there’s got to be another way—“
“THERE IS NONE. I AM FATE. MY WORD IS THE FUTURE. YOU NOW FACE THE REPERCUSSIONS OF YOUR OWN FOOLISH TRANSGRESSION. WALLOW IN IT. SUFFER IN IT. BECOME STONE IN IT. IT MATTERS NOT. THE DECISION HAS BEEN MADE.”
Enraged, I lash out with magic at the smoke-shrouded demon as well as the face of Fate, but they both seem to ignore me.
“DEFY ME ALL YOU WISH, IT WILL NOT CHANGE WHAT HAPPENS NOW.”
I have no words, so I just scream at them and fall to my knees.
The demon laughs, smoke curling into every corner of the room, and Fate seems to reel back from it before dissipating. The smoke burns my eyes and throat, but I can’t make myself move.
I don’t even register Alex picking me up and climbing out of the smoke-filled nexus, out of the core, and back to the well. Everything’s blurring together. I was willing to sacrifice the world, but I was supposed to take the punishment, not her. Somewhere along the way, we find a cave, and Alex sets me down, her own arms already nearly petrified.
My breaths are shaky, and I can barely look at her. I wonder if my lungs are turning to stone too. In my mind, I can’t stop repeating the question: What have I done?
“Alexei, I—“
“I forgive you.”
“What?”
“I forgive you,” she says again, meeting my eyes, and she’s smiling that soft pained smile again.
I’m still crying, my ash-gray skin cracking as my whole body shakes, the rumbling of the destruction of the planet’s core surrounding us.
“How can you say that? I ruined everything and you still love me? How? I’ve doomed the whole damn planet and you’re still here lookin’ at me like I’m the victim! I’ve killed us all, can't you see??”
“I can see just fine. I know why you did it. And I get it. You couldn’t let go, so you… broke the world,” she sighs, exhaustion and resignation heavy in her voice.
“I… I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay. I can’t guarantee I wouldn’t have done the same thing.” She pauses for a long time, staring at the mouth of our little cave. “Maybe… maybe someone will find us. Find a different way to still save everyone.”
“And spite Fate herself?” I ask weakly.
“You did it. Why can’t they?”
She sits next to me against the stone of the cave. Slowly, she puts her hand on my cheek, and it’s warm, the only thing here that is. I lean into it, still choking on my sobs. “I’m so, so, sorry,” I manage to say through the tears.
“Shh. There’s nothing to say now. What’s done is done.”
She starts to hug me, but I pull away. “I-“
She chuckles weakly. “What did I say about shutting up? If we’re gonna watch the world die, at least hold me?”
“But it’s my fault, I’ve failed you and—“
“—and I’ve already forgiven you. Please.”
So I shut my eyes, wrap my stony arms around her, and bury my head into her shoulder, and she does the same. We never really feel the onset of the ice, because our bodies turn to immovable rock long before the planet’s final breath.
•••
Thousands, maybe even millions of years later, humans descend from the stars again, rediscovering this distant planet. They will uncover the ruins, and they will rebuild, and they will dig. And somewhere deep within the planet, they will find two embracing statues, miraculously untouched by the whims of time, crystalline tears still frozen on their faces.
#short story#my miscellaneous writing#not story#(not my main story anyway)#These Hearts of Fire and Stone#me when i wrote my last short story: wow this is kinda dark I wasn’t expecting to write a tragedy today#me when i got this idea: I’ll fuckin do it again#thanks for reading!
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Shaded Perceptions
Eyes opening to view his ceiling in black and white. Then we see the character lying on his back. Cole, lying in bed next to his wife. She sleeps, facing him. He turns towards her as she slowly wakes. They exchange morning greetings, then she turns to back him and returns to her sleep. He gets up, puts on his glasses, and looks across the room at the wall where we see a pinboard full of colorful…
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Super detailed character profile chart
Character Name:
First Name:
Last Name:
Nickname (if any):
Basic Information:
Age:
Gender:
Date of Birth:
Place of Birth:
Nationality:
Physical Appearance:
Height:
Weight:
Build:
Hair Color:
Eye Color:
Scars or distinguishing marks:
Personality Traits:
Positive Traits:
Negative Traits:
Background and History:
Family Background:
Parents:
Siblings (if any):
Childhood:
Education:
School/College/University:
Major/Area of Study:
Favorite Subjects:
Least Favorite Subjects:
Career/Profession:
Current Occupation:
Previous Jobs (if any):
Career Goals:
Hobbies and Interests:
Hobbies:
Interests:
Relationships:
Marital Status:
Romantic Relationships (if any):
Friendships:
Closest Friends:
Relationship dynamics:
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Strengths:
Weaknesses:
Goals and Ambitions:
Short-term Goals:
Long-term Goals:
Fears and Insecurities:
Common Fears:
Insecurities:
Quirks and Habits:
Quirks:
Habits:
Beliefs and Values:
Religious or Spiritual Beliefs:
Moral Code:
Political Views:
Favorites:
Favorite Foods:
Favorite Books:
Favorite Movies/TV Shows:
Favorite Music:
Favorite Color:
Dislikes:
Disliked Foods:
Disliked Activities:
Pet Peeves:
Miscellaneous:
Talents or Skills:
Secrets (if any):
Motivations:
What drives the character forward?
What are their ultimate aspirations?
Character Arc:
How does the character change or evolve throughout the story?
Feel free to adapt and expand upon this template!
#writing#writing inspiration#writing tips#writers on tumblr#creative writing#teen writer#writers block#story writing#writeblr#characterisation#character design#writing advice#character concept#character sheet
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At last it's here, a shop update. Yippee! Whoo! Featuring:
The very first color printing of Airsled! Available as a softcover or a pdf, colored by @korybing! It's a short story on the pre-industrial avian homeplanet about a livestock-drawn airplane, confronting an internalized colonialist mindset, and biting large wild predators in the neck!
A new sticker bundle! You can get a discount on it if you also buy the Airsled softcover, use code COLORVISION.
A restock of Growth Chart, the collection of short stories about Talita growing up in human foster care.
Restocks on the first 4 volumes of Almost Real: A Speculative Biology Zine.
Sales on a lot of older Almost Real merch and other miscellaneous older store stock. I want this stuff outta my house.
That about sums it up.
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Blood Curry
Synopsis: A vampire wants to make her girlfriend one of her favorite meals using only the most authentic ingredients.
CW: Gore
Red-cheeked and glassy-eyed, the young woman leaned against Darlene's shoulder as they walked down the dark, empty street. "Thank you for everything tonight," she said hoarsely.
Darlene wanted to gag at the smell of the girl's sour breath, but she continued to put on that sweet, sultry smile. She laced her fingers in hers. "Of course! It's my pleasure."
"No, I mean it. You really are . . . amazing, you know that? You -- I feel like you're different then the others. You're real."
Darlene stopped in her tracks. She looked up and down the path, then turned to face the young woman beside her. "Come here." She pulled the girl close in her arms, guiding her head close to her comforting bosom.
The girl tensed up at first, then eased into Darlene's embrace. After a minute, Darlene pulled away. "Nothing personal, sweetie."
She hissed, and, with the swiftness of a wild animal, the vampire locked her fangs against the female human's neck. Her scream was cut off as her jugular vain ruptured, a burst of hot, thick, sticky blood gushing into Darlene's mouth and cascaded down the front of her blouse. She whined. She just bought that top! Oh, well.
Darlene pulled away, wiping her mouth with her wrist. She exhaled through her nose amusedly at the human's permanently bugged-eyed expression. This one was awfully cute, and fun to play with. She almost wished the game would have lasted longer . . . but not really. Pork was a fine people substitute, but nothing beat the flavor of true human meat. And her girlfriend deserved only the most authentic ingredients for her favorite dish.
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
Agatha chuckled. "I can't get one hint what you're making, Dar-Dar?"
"In a second," Darlene said from the kitchen in a sing-song voice. "Close your eyes."
Agatha narrowed her eyes good-naturedly. "Okay, okay. If you say so."
Humming, Darlene ladled the meaty, aromatic mixture into a ceramic bowl. She brought it over to her vampire girlfriend seated at the dining room table and set it before her. "Surprise!"
Agatha opened her eyes. "Darlene! You did not."
"Go ahead. Tell me what you think." Darlene seated herself, and rested her chin on her knuckles smugly.
The vampire took a bite of the curry and moaned, her eyes rolling back. "Babe, this is amazing. What did you do?"
Unable to contain her excitement, Darlene squealed. "Surprise! It's real human meat."
Agatha smiled knowingly, as though her girlfriend were joking with her. When Darlene did not confess to having used a livestock substitute, however, Agatha's jaw dropped. "No. No, way. Babe! Are you serious? Where did you get a real human for this blood curry? How?"
Darlene drew circles on the table with her finger. "Some sad loser regular I found at this bar I go to. They're so easy to manipulate when they're desperate," she answered in a husky voice, stretching her lips apart into a wide, cat-like grin.
#cw: gore#cw: cannibalism#tw: cannibalism#cw: violence#horror short stories#miscellaneous short stories#vampire story#vampire#vampires#vampire girl#vampirism#vampcore#vampirecore#vampire aesthetic#fangs#vampire romance
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A Common Tale with a Twist
Part 2/2
(part 1 here)
The prince and the outcast girl had been on the run for weeks now, but the royal search party persisted. Every so often they would hear hoofsteps or hounds nearing their campsites, and they would have to relocate even further from the castle grounds. It was quite the stress-inducing ordeal, but both couldn't help but find it invigorating as well. They were experiencing the thrill of the hunt, albeit from the perspective of the prey; at least it kept things exciting!
While the runaway heir was enjoying his adventures, however, an old friend of his was left quite conflicted.
He had been serving in the royal guard for only a short time after having graduated alongside the prince, whom he had always considered a comrade. He knew of his friend's rebellious ways, but he had never expected this! To dash away from the palace and all its luxury- in the middle of one's own wedding, no less- to live a life outside the law in the untamed forest? It was preposterous, unheard of!
The young guard was dumbfounded as he set out on his mission to reclaim the prince, but he pursued the trail earnestly, not wanting to disappoint his superiors.
As he rode through the sparse woods on the back of an uneasy steed, his mind wandered from his task to memories of his quarry.
He thought about how bold the young heir had always been, how he had never been partial to the old ways of the royals. He recalled all the forced smiles given to guests at gatherings, all the stories whispered in the night of what the outside world was like.
He knew if he failed this mission, chances were he would never see his old friend again, but something told him the boy didn't want to be found.
The queen had informed the royal guards that her son must have been kidnapped, likely refusing to admit to herself that he had honestly wanted to leave for good. The young guard didn't buy it. He grit his teeth in determination, kicking his horse into a greater speed. He wasn't sure what he would do if he found the prince, but he did know, somehow, that he had to be the one to reach him first.
Eventually his steed slowed its pace, growing tense and even more alert. Scanning the shadowy forest floor, the young guard dismounted and searched for whatever had spooked his horse.
His gaze eagerly followed the footprints he found in the dirt until he found himself looking right into the eyes of his prey.
The prince was crouched beneath a bush, holding by the hand a young, rather rough-looking girl. There was a wild look to him now, as though the woods had begun claiming him as one of their own, and the expression in his eyes seemed so much more genuine than it had in the past. It held fear, excitement, surprise- but it also spoke of hope, relief.
Is he glad it was me who found him? Does he think, perhaps… that I'll let him go?
The young guard had one hand on the ram's horn he was supposed to use to call upon the other riders were he to be successful in his search, but he never drew it to his mouth. He was too focused on the prince's, for it was now curling into a reassuring and defiant smile directed at the girl beside him.
Once again, the gesture didn't appear forced as it always had; there was something so true in that smile as it conveyed its message, which was a promise of protection.
The unruly, rebellious spark that had always been buried in those eyes was much brighter now that it wasn't in a cage.
I take it you've found what you were looking for, old friend.
The young guard knew he couldn't take this away from his former classmate, who had always so longed for freedom.
When the prince focused his attention back on him, he smiled softly and turned away with a simple nod, tossing the words "goodbye, your highness" over his shoulder as he swung himself back up into the saddle.
"Thank you," the prince whispered, but the guard merely glanced back at them with a grin as he rode back the way he had come to tell the rest of the search party it was time to declare the missing heir gone for good.
The young couple on the run would always hold grateful memories of that young man as they forged new adventures for themselves in uncharted lands and lived happily ever after far from the golden bars of the high society prison.
~the end~
#the prince × the pauper#miscellaneous short stories#my writing#writers on tumblr#short story#common tale with a twist#interpret this as you will#but i will say#if you think the guard was just a little bit in love with the prince#i wont correct you#not fandom
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Sweet Renegade Series Masterlist
About the Sweet Renegade Series: A new arrival in town leads to an unexpected complication in the form of a sexy as sin Bounty Hunter named Ari Levinson.
This series features a collection of one-shots centered around a small town romance between Bounty Hunter Ari Levinson and a reluctant, curvy Reader.
It will also contain mature themes such as Sex, Interracial Relationships, Soft D/s Themes, Discussions of Body Image, Disordered Eating, Discussions of Race, Occasional Depictions of Violence, Cursing, and more. Minors, please do not engage or interact.
Special thanks to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me brainstorm ideas. Thank you for reading and I look forward to sharing more soon! (**) indicates smut
Series Intro
New In Town: Introducing my Sweet Renegades Series. Sparks fly when you accidentally find yourself sitting next to Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson.
New! Hello, Duchess: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined.
New! The Do-Over: Everyone deserves a second chance, including jerks like Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson.
A Friend in the Dark: Coming Soon
Untitled Story: Coming Soon
Sweet Morning Light: Watching you sleep has Ari hungry for more. Which means it's time for breakfast. And it looks like you're on the menu... **
Thirst Trap: Ari loves looking at your ass in those shorts, as long as he's the one who gets to walk behind you. **
Back to Sleep: Ari has the perfect cure for your insomnia. **
On the Clock: Ari stops by for a snack while he's out chasing a lead. **
Creep: You sneak out of the house to go on a midnight supply run, which inadvertently sends Ari into panic mode. ** [Request]
Moments Shared: You and Ari share a moment during a lazy afternoon... **
Sweet Tooth: Ari gets inventive when he finds himself in the doghouse with you. ** [Request]
Sweet Tooth Deluxe: Ari teaches you a much needed lesson about ignoring him. ** [Request]
Sugar Fix: Your poor attempt at a joke lands you in hot water with your man. Takes place directly after the events in Sweet Tooth and Sweet Tooth Deluxe. ** [Request]
Disturbing the Peace: You're keeping a secret from Ari - one that you'll have to tell him about eventually. Right?
The Scent of you: Ari loves the sweet scent of you, which is why he's content to live between your thighs. **
Case of the Ex: Part I: Just as you decide to explore your feelings for Ari, an unexpected blast from your past sends you reeling...
Southern Comfort: A day after your ex-boyfriend's unexpected return, you show up on Ari's doorstep intending to ask for a little time. Too bad your grumpy bounty hunter isn't feeling particularly charitable. **
An Afternoon with Minerva: Ari finds himself finally ready to admit the truth about his feelings for you...
Off the Market: Ari learns that you're not the sharing type. Which is fine by him, because neither is he.
A Man Starved: Ari lives for the taste of you on his tongue... ** [Request]
Risky Business: Ari doesn't like it when you take unnecessary risks. So tonight he's going to teach you a lesson you won't soon forget. **
Worthy of You: After being forced to confront his own demons, Ari begins to question whether or not he is worthy of you.
Miscellaneous Asks, Drabbles, & One-shots:
New! What's Eating You, Mr. Levinson?: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to read Andrew Barber's reaction to the same prompt. [Request]
Cross-Country Christmas: When Ari is left stranded at the airport on Christmas Eve, you find yourself in need of a little holiday miracle... **
Bad Days: Ari helps you get through a particularly bad day... **
Michèle: Ari doesn't approve of your latest trip to the spa. ** [Request]
Jiggly: You find yourself feeling a little self-conscious after it becomes clear you've gained a little weight. **
Easy, Baby: Ari just wants to do his part to help you relax. **
Promises, Promises: Ari exacts a promise from you as a reward for his patience. **
#cevansbrat0007 sweet renegade series#chris evans imagines#ari levinson imagines#chris evans fanfiction#ari levinson fanfiction#chris evans x you#ari levinson x you#chris evans x black!reader#ari levinson x black!reader#chris evans x woc!reader#ari levinson x woc!reader#chris evans x black reader#ari levinson x black reader#chris evans smut#ari levinson smut#chris evans x reader#chris evans x female!reader#chris evans x girlfriend!reader#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x female!reader#ari levinson x girlfriend!reader#chris evans x poc!reader#ari levinson x yn#chris evans x yn#ari levinson x y/n#chris evans x y/n#ari levinson girlfriend!reader#chris evans x curvy!reader#ari levinson x curvy!reader#cevansbrat0007 fics
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Butterscotch
W.C. - 1.8 k
All your life your only goal has been to be as kind as you possibly could be. It didn’t matter if your day had been good or bad, as long as you could make someone else’s day that much better then you were fine.
It carried on all throughout your life, going from the childhood innocence to the adult naivety. You’d do anything to cheer up a teammate or the occasional rival, seeing people sad was something you were uncomfortable with. That wasn’t difficult to see.
Growing up under the care of your grandparents taught you things that were unique, things that other children your age wouldn’t learn until years from that point. Experiences only growing up surrounded by older people could bring.
It taught you many miscellaneous things, but most importantly of all, it taught you that there was nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a piece of candy.
Both of your grandparents always had a small piece of candy with them, often a quick caramel or a butterscotch that would melt on your tongue. Anytime you fell and scraped your knees a candy wrapped in crinkly plastic would be handed to you and then everything would seem fine again.
It was something you picked up on, always having treats wrapped in crinkling paper in your shirt pocket or wherever else you could store it. You even had a special compartment sewn into all your football shorts pockets where you could fit a single sweet that wouldn’t fall out throughout all the ruckus of a match. One you would slip into your mouth as soon as the game was over no matter the result of the game.
You would always go fetch another sweet from your coat that you’d give to either the opponent or one of your teammates, depending on who won.
But ultimately whenever anyone needed a pick-me-up they knew where to find you, a sweet in your pocket just for them.
So when you finally broke through into the first team, you were quickly known throughout the Woso community as one of the nicest players. One that would slip children sweets when their parents weren’t watching.
That was something your girlfriend especially liked watching, the sneaky look on your face and the huge smile on the kid’s never failing to make her day.
You’d known of each other for a while before you became friends and later lovers, having roughly the same friend groups. You just never took notice of each other until she signed for Manchester United, the club having been your employers back then.
She was freshly out of college in America and decided to sign for your then club, you hearing through the grapevines that she needed a place to stay which led you to offer your spare room. It got lonely without anyone else there.
Out of seeming desperation, she accepted your offer and moved in the following week. It was awkward in the beginning, neither of you used to living with the other, leading to some embarrassing moments and some good life lessons. Never ever walk into your roommate’s room without knocking being just one of them.
Slowly you warmed up to the other, learning the other’s habits and quirks, a smoothly running household soon forming. As soon as a routine was created, a budding friendship started forming between the two of you, becoming thick as thieves in practically no-time (much to the chagrin of a certain United player).
It wasn’t until after you’d won the euros that the obvious feelings between the two of you were addressed, the alcohol fueled kiss shared at midnight much more telling than any words. Waking up hungover and in the same bed made for some hilarious excuses and even funnier stories from your teammates. You apparently hadn’t been able to keep your hands off of each other, insisting on sleeping in the same bed all cuddled up.
Since that magical night you had been dating, which was nothing short of amazing. She was all you could ask for and more, she was the breath in your lungs, your strength and your weakness.
And she always accepted a sweet treat from you.
It was no secret that Alessia Russo liked a butterscotch candy, something only highlighted by you and your pocket sweets.
Another non-secret was her love for your interactions with children. She couldn’t help the way her heart melted and how her thoughts ran wild, imagining your interactions with your future kids. She hadn’t even brought the thought of children up to you, it was her very obvious secret.
Alessia couldn’t avoid the teasing from your teammates who saw the obvious heart eyes coming out in full force as soon as you were near a kid, ruffling their hair or smiling at them kindly. You were teased just as much if not more for the constant heart eyes you exhibited towards your girlfriend.
After a win for Arsenal, the team takes a quick victory lap around the stadium, waving and smiling at your fans. It’s peaceful despite the shouts and yells of the frantic people, well peaceful until a piercing cry cuts through the air.
Your first instinct is to check on your girlfriend, to make sure that she’s okay and not hurt. Looking behind you, the sight of her baby blues meet you almost instantaneously. She looks fine on the outside, not like she’d screamed her lungs up only moments before.
Another heart shattering cry follows after the first one, you feeling like a belt is tightening around the circumference of your heart. Swiveling your head towards the crowd, you soon spot the little boy clutching onto his mother’s shirt tightly, tears streaming down his poor face.
Alessia’s attention is caught when she sees you walking towards the crowd, the shrill screams lowering little by little. She can only see the numbered shirt on your back, legs moving towards the little boy.
The boy looks at you in amazement when you’re close enough for him to see you, silent tears still falling down his chubby cheeks.
“Hi buddy!” You said in a soft voice, trying to calm him down. His mother looks at you, awestruck as her son but ultimately snaps out of it just enough to encourage her son to greet you back. “Why are you crying…” The woman fills in the blank in your sentence with his name.
“Timmy”
“Why are you crying Timmy?” Leaning down to his level, you see how his tears slow, no longer falling down his cheeks rapidly. Timmy shakes his head hastily, as if to say that he didn’t want to say. “Okay, you don’t have to tell me. You want to know what I do everytime im sad?” You ask the sweet boy, who can’t be older than 5.
The headshakes soon turn into frantic nods, the boy intrigued by what you did. Your hand moves back behind his head, fingers magically pulling a butterscotch candy out from behind his ear. The light gasp from the boy makes you smile, looking at his mother who gives you a nod. His small hands wrap around the crinkly plastic, the woman behind him nudging him, the boy quickly saying thank you.
“One of these and all my sadness goes away, why don’t you try?” The smile forming on your girlfriend’s face doesn’t go unnoticed by your teammates, a certain Irish woman sliding up beside her.
“Y/n’s very good with kids, ey?” She says, smirk overtaking her face.
“Yeah she is.” Alessia responds dreamily, eyes on your back.
“So, are you thinking about having some of your own?” Katie asks loudly, slinging her arm around Alessia’s shoulder and pulling her closer.
The brit chokes on thin air, coughing noisily to clear her airways. It attracts some attention from some straggling teammates but nothing out of the usual.
“Uhm, I don’t know. Not really.” She manages to get out, eyes tearing up slightly as coughs continue to escape.
“Don’t lie to me Less, we can all see it.” Katie explains softly, as if to let the girl down slowly.
“I don’t know if she wants any kids, that's the thing.” Alessia shrugs her shoulders in the Irish woman’s grip, looking down at the ground.
“Listen, just talk to her, okay?” She tells her protegee, glancing up to see you now standing in front of them shirtless and with a confused expression on your face.
“Talk to who about what?” Alessia’s eyes flit over your stomach, stopping at the sight of your abdominal muscles. The older girl nudges the number 23, leaving soon after. “So? Talk to who about what?”
“Baby, I’ll tell you later, okay?” She shoves her hands in her pockets, leaning into you when you wrap your arms around her.
After showering and changing into your comfy clothes, both you and Alessia are on your merry ways out of the stadium, going back to her car together. Settling down in the passenger seat, you can hear her sigh loudly and all of a sudden you’re filled with fear. Is she about to break up with you?
“Do you want kids?” She asks nervously, eyes shifting all around the car. You let out a surprised laugh, sighing and placing your hand over your chest.
“Oh thank you” You laugh out, eyes on the ceiling of the car.
“What are you talking about?” She asks confused, eyebrows knitting together adorably like they always did when she was confused.
“I thought you were going to break up with me.” She slaps your arm lightly, shocked that you’d even think of the possibility.
“But do you want kids?” Alessia repeats her earlier question, looking at you intently.
“Hmm, yeah I want two or three tots running around and wreaking havoc” You shoot her a smile, the softness in your eyes shining through.
“That’s good, because I want kids too”
“With me?” Now it’s your turn to be confused.
“Who else dummy?”
“Why would you want to have kids with me?!”
“Because I love you, and you’d be an excellent mother” Alessia tells you tenderly.
“You’d be an even better mother my love” She blushes at your compliment, hiding her face in her shoulder.
When you’ve arrived home and put your pajamas on, it’s finally time to lay down on the sofa and cuddle for all eternity, your head settling down on her chest with your body slotted between her legs.
“Can one of our kids be named Morrison?” Your voice comes out muffled, the warmth of your breath seeping through her pajama shirt.
“No.”
Having your own kids wasn't going to happen for ages, so for now you had to settle for raising a stuffed animal.
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hi g!! firstly i have to tell you how much i love your work, you’re incredibly talented and i’m always so excited whenever you post something.
i have this idea for a story: you and neil have dated for months but you recently split up and neither of you seem to get over the other, so one night after a failed attempt on forgetting him you somehow end up in his bed again. old habits die hard…
hope u have a nice day :)
first of all .. thank you so much !! you are so incredibly kind !! second of all, i made this a liiiiiittle bit angsty and fluffy but still smutty !! i loved the breakup sex idea so i was so eager to write about this :)
Break Up | Neil Lewis x fem!reader
prompt: you and neil split up (NSFW!!!! NO MINORS!!!!)
WARNINGS: (brief) fighting, (brief) mentions of mental health struggles, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), creampie
word count: 3.8k
the break up was messy. both you and neil shot vile, unnecessary insults at each other as he scrounged around your shared apartment to gather his belongings before leaving.
“you’re pathetic, neil. absolutely fucking pathetic.” you spat, desperate to make a dig that’ll hurt him.
“you know what? you aren’t even worth all this anyway.” neil snarls before swinging the door open, “you’re a cold-hearted cunt and i hope i never have the displeasure of seeing you again.”
you scoff, “feelings mutual, sweetheart.”
before he’s even fully out the door, you violently slam it shut, bumping neil in the process. he mumbles a few more profanities before finally leaving.
moments after this altercation, you’re left pacing around the living room. your mind flooded with him, the memories, the pain. what starts off as vicious rage, quickly switches into overwhelming despair. you just collapse. your knees falling to the ground as you sob into your hands. how did this happen? how can something so good sour so quickly?
neil fell victim to the same fate. he kept his composure until he got into his car. as soon as he shut the door, he was hit with a subtle waft of your essence. he wasn’t sure what exactly he was smelling, whether it was your detergent, or body wash, or perfume, but it was your smell. and it hit him like a ton of bricks. he teared up a bit, but he tried his best to stay calm until he found somewhere to stay for the night.
he drove to some miscellaneous pizza place and cried in the parking lot. god, he thinks, this is almost worse than crying in front of you. he feels pathetic, angry, depressed. he wipes his face and heads into the pizza shop, orders himself a pizza, and calls jonathan while he waits.
“hey dude, i know this is short notice, do you mind if i crash at your place for a bit? (y/n) and i broke up, it was really bad man ..” neil asks while pacing around outside the shop awkwardly.
“yeah, dude, of course. however long you may need. plus, while you’re here i need to discuss some things to you about a shipment that lucien and i picked out.” jonathan responds.
neil appreciates jonathan’s hospitality, but the last thing he wants to talk about is business. he wants to crawl onto jonathan’s couch and sleep, at least for a day or two, just avoid the world all together. but he’s an adult man, a business man at that, depression won’t pay the bills.
“yeah yeah,” neil answers, “sounds good. i’ll bring a pizza by too. maybe i’ll pick up some beers.”
“sick!” jonathan says eagerly, he appreciates the bare minimum, that’s what neil likes about him, “let me know when you’re here i’ll buzz you up.”
they say their goodbyes and neil hangs up, continuing to linger outside the store. he basks in the silence of the streets, the cool breeze, the dull and numb feeling that’s stuck in his chest.
once the pizzas ready, he thanks the workers and tips them graciously. he then picks up the beers for him and jonathan to share, before quickly speeding over to jonathan’s apartment, trying to get there while the pizzas still warm.
he arrives to jonathan’s place and they do as expected, eat, drink, watch movies, discuss business. neil feels as though he’s watching himself through some sort of film, like he’s not in control of his body. it felt uneasy. he believes the severity of the breakup has caused him minor disassociation, in some way. he’s desperate to vent. he has thousands of pent up feelings boiling within him and he needs to let out even the slightest bit of steam.
neil swallows harshly, “you know, man, i just really think i screwed it up with (y/n) ..”
“yeah, chicks are crazy.” jonathan retorts while grabbing neil’s empty plate from in front of him. jonathan doesn’t like to talk about feelings very much, that’s what neil doesn’t like about him.
but neil gets the hint. no sense in rambling to a man who won’t listen. so he grabs his beer and chugs down the rest, almost immediately proceeding to crack open another one.
jonathan puts on a movie that he knows neil likes and the two sit in near silence and watch. jonathan’s silent because he’s paying attention, neil’s silent because his mind is reeling. all he can think about is what he said to you, what you said to him, what it’ll be like to see you out in public. it branches into what’ll it be like when he sees you out with someone else? he can’t stomach the thought right now, he needs to go to sleep.
neil sits through the movie, trying his hardest to pay attention to what’s on screen and try to forget what had happened earlier. he wasn’t successful. but he tried.
the movie ends and jonathan pats his knees before standing up, “well, i gotta crash,” he yawns, “help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. use the tv if you’d like, just keep the volume at a decent level.”
“no yeah, definitely. thanks again, man.” neil responded.
the entire night he lays awake. he tosses and turns trying to sleep, but his mind won’t rest.
he stays this way for a few days.
he starts to slowly move on, little by little, until one day he hears that you were spotted with a guy. as soon as those words hit his ears, he feels a lump form in his throat. that’s it. that’s his breaking point.
without much thought, he storms off to his car and drives over to the shared apartment that you have now taken basically full ownership over. he hurriedly rushes inside while being bombarded with visuals of you with other guys, you fucking them, them using you, and worst of all, them just being affectionate with you. thinking of you holding their hand, them kissing your cheek and making you giggle, you dancing in the kitchen with them. just like you used to do with him.
before he’s even realized it he’s ended up outside your door. he stands there for a few seconds to gather his thoughts, he didn’t really come over with a plan, he just felt compelled to come.
neil raises his hand and knocks on your door. he can hear your footsteps approaching. but what if it’s a guy coming? your new boy-toy? he doesn’t know what he’ll do with himself if he sees your new partner right now.
you swing the door open, confused and shocked to see neil on the other side.
your eyes widen, “uh .. neil .. what ar-“ you say before he nudges you lightly out of the way, “i forgot some things ..” he mumbles before quickly making his way to your bedroom.
“neil? what did you forget?” you call out, trying to catch up to him, “hello? what did you forget?”
“oh, am i interrupting something? just give me a minute.” he groans rudely
“interrupting? what are you implying?” you question, feeling even more confused.
“oh, nothing, i just didn’t know if your new boyfriend was over, or whatever.”
the confusion starts to become anger, “what? neil, what the fuck is wrong with you? who said i have a new boyfriend? and what business is it to you anyway?”
he turns to you and laughs, “we’ve been broken up for less than a month and you’re already moving on! did i not matter at all to you?”
“again, even if i was seeing someone new, it’s not your business.” you snap, crossing your arms in front of your body.
he just scoffs as he feels tears begin to prick at the corners of his eyes, “i’ll get what i forgot and i’ll leave. you’ll never see me again.”
you can hear something in his tone, “neil? are you alright?”
you’re fuming, he’s infiltrated your space and now he’s attempting to start a fight? but simultaneously, you still feel a deep sense of empathy for him. you’re still in love with him after all.
“i’m f-fine.” he stammers, actively keeping his back towards you while sifting through piles of clothes, he can’t bear to see your face right now.
“are you sure? you don’t sound alright ..” you reply softly, placing a hand on his shoulder soothingly.
“i’m fine! jesus, (y/n)! just let me look, please!” his voice cracks as he swats your hand away, he knows he can only keep up this front for so long.
“neil, we were together for months, i know you better than you know yourself, tell me what’s wrong.”
we were together.
those three words made him nauseous to hear, he knew the two of you were done, but to hear it hurt on a different level.
he loses it, the tears start to pour out from his eyes.
you hear him begin to cry quietly, his hands coming up to cover his face.
“what is it?” you ask one last time as your voice begins to break, you had been struggling as well. but you, like neil, kept it mostly to yourself. you rotted away in your apartment, barely even showering or maintaining yourself. but today he saw you on a relatively good day, you felt motivation to shower and clean. if he had caught you on any other day, you would’ve been absolutely mortified.
neil finally turns around, his face red and cheeks wet with tears.
“what happened to us?” he sighs, “we were so good, (y/n),” your eyes are nearly welling with tears. “i thought i was going to marry you.” he adds, his voice barely above a whisper.
you’re at a loss for words, you didn’t know what happened either. it’s like one day something between you just switched. you were both stubborn, but that had never been an issue, until it was mixed with unexpected changes and outside stressors, you eventually just couldn’t stand each other.
you can’t hold it in anymore, you begin to sob in front of him.
“i loved you, neil.” you walk closer to him, “i didn’t mean what i said. i just felt hurt, and i wanted to hurt you back.”
“i know,” he chuckles through the tears, “i know. i felt the same, i didn’t mean it either.”
you missed neil, so so dearly, and you wished that he could come back to make amends. now here he is, and here’s your opportunity.
you swallow your pride, “i miss you.”
you see something shift within him once those words leave your mouth, “i miss you too.” he mutters.
he grabs your face and runs his thumb along your cheek before planting a kiss on your lips. you’re shocked, but you wanted this. you’ve been craving this. you kiss him back.
he pulls away briefly to see your expression, but you lean forward immediately to kiss him again more passionately.
he groans into your mouth, bringing his hands down to the dip of your back.
“missed you so much ..” he whines into your mouth while wrapping his arms around your waist, clenching you close to his body. you bring your hands up to your head and run your fingers through his hair, occasionally bringing your hands down to touch his shoulder blades.
neil slips his hands under your shirt and unclasps your bra.
“mmh .. neil, we can’t ..” you groan between kisses, although you aren’t making much efforts to stop him
he slips his tongue into your mouth and makes the kiss sloppier, moaning softly in the process
“let me make it up to you .. please ..” he begs, creeping his hands down to your ass.
he grips it gently and feels himself growing hard. since the breakup, he’s had a lot of pent up sexual tension. he’s been couch surfing, which isn’t exactly ideal for private intimate times, so he was rarely able to get off. so now even just the sensation of your ass has him popping a chub already.
as you kiss, he starts to slowly guide you towards the bed. eventually the end of the bed meets the back of your legs, and you stumble back with neil on top of you.
you detach from his lips and shuffle your body back, neil follows your lead and moves his lips down to your neck, kissing and sucking softly. his lips on your neck and the warm friction of his body is causing you to get undeniably wet. this isn’t the best way to go about things, you and him should’ve maybe had a civil and thoughtful discussion. but you suddenly feel his bulge graze against you, neither of you are in the right state to sit and talk.
his kisses begin to move downward to your collar bone, almost to your chest, but he halts.
“can you take off your shirt?”
without responding, you slip your shirt and now unclasped bra off. he resumes his kisses down your chest until he gets to one of your nipples, he swirls his tongue around the harding bud, suckling on it gently soon after while moaning lowly.
you gasp and arch your back, “missed these tits ..” he groans against your skin, bringing one of his hands up to knead your other breast.
before long, his kisses trail down your torso, sliding his hands down your sides to grip your hips. his kisses stop at your navel, where he looks up at you from between your legs, slinking his fingers down to your waistband where he hooks his fingers in. he tugs them down lightly, but stops. watching your face attentively for your approval.
you raise your hips and allow him to continue to pull your pants and underwear off. he moves out of the way briefly to efficiently tear them off, before quickly going back to where he was originally, directly between your legs. he groans at the sight of your wetness.
neil places small kisses along your inner thighs while latching his hands beneath them, his lips inching closer and closer to your pussy. he plants a wet kiss on your lower lips, making you whine at the sudden, but much needed gesture.
he continued to kiss, sloppier and sloppier, until the kisses become blatant licks against your clit.
“mmh! ne-il!” you whimper, rutting against his face slightly. he hums, gripping your thighs harder, “missed this cunt so much ..”
as you moan and rut, neil gets more determined to make you come on his face. he laps you up, occasionally dipping down to use his nose while he prods your hole with his tongue, or using his chin to rub your clit while he stares at you twitching in bliss. he’s utilizing his face in ways he never has before, he seems nearly ravenous.
he sucks on your clit gently before detaching his mouth, “use my face t’come, show me how much you want it.”
“i want it,” you moan breathily as you lock your fingers into his hair, “i want it so bad!”
he smiles against you. sucking, rubbing, and licking all of your sensitive areas. you using his face purely to get off gets him unbearably hard, he begins to grind against the mattress beneath him for some sort of relief
your gasps and whines progressively get louder and louder, to the point where your eyes are squeezed shut and your mouth hangs slightly slack, neil just watches. he missed you as a person, as a partner, but he also missed watching you be pleased. the way your body and face contorts, knowing it’s all from his touches, it just couldn’t compare to anything else.
his jaw is sore, his scalp hurts from your pulling, and the entire lower half of his face is dripping wet with a mixture of your arousal and his own saliva, but he has no intentions of stopping. not until you come on his face.
your ruts start to get quicker and needier, your thighs shaking and tensing in the process as you gasp and beg for neil to make you come.
“please, please, please,” you babble quietly, “i’m so close.”
neil can barely breathe, and he’s so incredibly hard he’s afraid he may faint from the loss of blood and oxygen flow. he groans against your pussy, crude sounds of moans and slight squelching fill the room.
your orgasm is inching closer and closer until it finally hits. your mind going blank and your hips movements coming to a stop, your thighs clench around him and twitch around his head. you’re quiet as you come, as if the air has been sucked from your lungs. neil licks you through your high, until you’ve become too sensitive and have to push him away.
“too much .. too much ..” you whine, neil hesitantly pulls away. he could stay between your legs forever.
he places small kisses on your inner thighs and sighs deeply against you. once he catches his breath, he trails back up your body with kisses. eventually his lips end up at your neck, he places a small lick onto the shell of your ear while sneaking his hand between his legs and palming himself.
“nothing else compares to you .. nothing .. no one ..“ he mumbles, hastily unzipping his fly and pulling his pants down with one hand, “i think your pussy was designed just f’me ..”
you whimper and place your hands on his clothed back, “this .. off .. please-“
he places one more wet kiss on your neck before sitting his body up. his eyes are glossy and his lips are a rich pink colour. he takes off his shirt and you can’t help but compliment him,
“you look so handsome.” you chuckle
he smirks, “thanks, i think eating pussy gives you some sort of natural glow, or so i’ve heard.”
you roll your eyes playfully and hook your fingers into his boxers waistband, “take these off, too.”
neil laughs breathily and removes his boxers, his hard, sensitive member springing free. his tip glistens from his arousal, you bring your hand to his cock and grip him weakly while pumping him.
he moans and his eyes shoot down to between his legs, watching you pump him, “oh, fuck ..”
his moans enable you further, you begin to pump him quicker. he huffs and whines before gripping your wrists and stopping your movements, “stop, stop”
you let go, “if you keep going i’ll come on your hand, i need your pussy.” he mewls as he lowers himself between your legs and aligning his cock head with your opening.
your pussy is extremely slick from the combination of his spit, your orgasm, and your persistent arousal, so he slides himself in with no issue. making the both of you groan at the sensation. as he bottoms out, he just sits inside you for a few moments, simply enjoying the embrace of your warm and wet cunt. you whine at the fullness you had been missing, while neil was away you’d attempt to finger yourself, but your own fingers didn’t compare at all to his cock. the feeling reminds you of what neil said, “i think your pussy was designed just for me”, maybe it’s truer than you thought.
his hips shift back and he slowly thrusts himself out, before quickly snapping back in. his pace is quick and needy, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him fuck you so desperately.
“neil-l .. mmh!” you gasp, swinging your hand over your mouth to cover your loud moans. neil chuckles and swipes your hand out of the way, “let me hear you, your noises are so pretty.”
“o-oh, stop ..” you tease, having just enough composure within you to still banter slightly with neil as he fucks you
“‘m serious ..” he moans, “hearing how good my cock is making y’feel .. so fucking sexy ..”
his pace gets rougher, and you almost instantly lose whatever snarky response you had in mind, “god, f-uck!” you cry out, bringing your hands down to your sides to grab the duvet beneath you.
as he thrusts into you, his eyes dart between your fucked-out face and your tits, which are bouncing slightly from his force. he places a hand onto your hip and the other onto your tit, both hands gripping harshly on whatever they’re grabbing. you whine at the aggression, feeling it get you hotter and wetter.
neil huffs and glances down at your pussy, whimpering at what he sees, “jesus, so fucking wet”
“you got me t-this wet ..” you stammer, feeding into neil’s neediness.
he moans, “y-yeah?”, his voice high and shaky, normally he’d want to come off as dominant and basically stoic, but right now he’s absolutely pussy-whipped, he couldn’t pull himself together if he tried.
hearing the pleasure in his tone makes you hum, your legs wrapping around him and squeezing him lightly.
he laughs and gulps, “so desperate to keep my cock inside.”
you nod quickly and snake your hand between your legs to rub your clit as you clench around him involuntarily. neil whimpers small sounds of approval, knowing how close you are to coming. his breaths are heavy and he’s having a hard time keeping up the quick rough pace, both of you are approaching your orgasms rapidly. the aesthetics of it really don’t matter, the pleasures your bodies are giving each other is what matters above all else.
“gonna come ..” neil swallows, “gonna come ..”
you wanna tell him you’re going to come too, but you physically can’t vocalize it, but you assume your whimpers and clenching and wetness is telling enough.
moments later, you’re coming on his cock, “n-eil!” you shout as your body convulses slightly from the overwhelming sensation. watching you come pushes him over the edge completely, “yeah, yeah, fuck!” he rambles, his brows furrowing and mouth hanging slack as he comes while continuing to pump himself inside you.
you ride out your orgasms until it eventually becomes too overstimulating for the both of you, he pulls out his softening cock and huffs. your thighs twitch at the feeling of his and yours come begin to slowly drip out from inside of you. neil smirks proudly “i missed seeing this too .. so goddamn much ..”
after that, you and him sit in silence for a little. you don’t really know what to say, and you don’t know what you are. still exes? friends? partners?
instead of pondering, you think fuck it and just ask;
“what are we now?”
“what do you want us to be?” he responds
“i want us to get back together.”
“i want that, too.”
——
back to my old reliable .. neil !!!
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian x fem!reader#neil lewis#neil lewis x reader#watching the detectives#hope y’all like this#:)
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The Intentionally-Designed Creature
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If the most decorated, educated biologist in history—past, future, or present—was given the power to play God for the sole purpose of creating the perfect creature, what would they create?
They would first start with the skeletal structure. With the bounds of evolution’s randomness shirked, they would surely give the creature four legs paired with a slender, sloping body that imitated the structure of a cheetah, or greyhound: lithe, muscular, well-balanced, aerodynamic, criminally quick on all four of its legs. Its joints would be able to move on a full swivel, back and forth, hinged like a bird’s, preventing any pulling. The human spine, in all of its verticalness, is a poorly-designed contraption that doesn’t know what to do with itself, giving most adults back problems later in life. This creature will not follow in our suit.
Of course, this change immediately makes clear the problem with quadrupedalism: no opposable thumbs. Speed was what was sacrificed in humanity’s lineage for the sake of hands, the articulated, sinful things. While evolution constrained every living organism to be branches off of branches off of branches of trees, forcing a dolphin’s flipper to look much like a flat hand and a goat’s ribcage to look similar to a lion’s, active creation holds no such restraints. Therefore, the purported biologist would simply adopt a centaurian approach, sticking an extra torso on top of where the head should be, minus the head itself. This torso would possess a curved spine, shoulders, overlapping, flat ribs, and a pair of long, human-like arms, perfect for grasping.
The hands on these arms would have four fingers, mirrored vertically to have two thumbs. While functionally similar to human hands, instead of nails, they would grow retractable claws, thick and cat-like. The feet would more resemble a wolf’s, padded thick with insensate skin, flexible and small in area for less time spent on the ground. The claws on these feet would also be retractable, though paradoxically too large to fit much into their sheaths. Never would the creature want for self-protection, nor fail at climbing or sprinting or slashing. It would be the ideal warrior.
On the topic of protection, it would possess a tail equal in weight to the headless torso, short and heavy with spiked chitin, simultaneously weaponizing it and preventing it from being easily snagged. That same thick chitin would replace most of the creature’s skin, leaving only the joint areas exposed, and would contain pockets of dicyclopentadiene that could ‘heal’ the chitin when cracked. Like any good carapace, the chitin would eventually be shed, but in the meantime, it would defend faultlessly against all forms of damage.
The scant parts not covered in armor would be coated in reasonable amounts of hair, insulating it better than straight skin. This fur would further be coated in toxins, which originated in the extraction of toxic materials from its food, its thick stomach lining and abnormally potent digestive fluids processing the normally-lethal substances with ease. This defense mechanism is not meant to kill, only to dissuade potential predators. For any unlucky predators that could manage to kill one of these after a costly fight, its correspondingly-tainted meat would kill it to consume. The rare amounts of exposed skin would take on an amphibious quality, releasing UV-fighting melanin instantly, as opposed to after damage could have already been done.
The creature’s muscles would contain lower amounts of myostatin, and possess enough fast-twitch fibres to put a cheetah to shame, giving it a combo of strength and speed that few could beat. Much like felines, its nearly-perfect hunting predecessors, it is nimble, durable, and flexible, which extends to its head—yes, its head. The head, set upon the previously-headless torso, has only a long neck and a powerful mouth, filled with teeth that grow back when fallen out, far superior to the mammalian method of losing them forever. This head would much resemble an eyeless moray, with multiple jaws, to boot. All the best for grasping onto prey.
Its other senses of smell, sight, and sound would be a bit trickier for the alleged biologist. The nose could be made plural, with nostrils evenly placed along the skin. Rather than be limited to one set of each, its eyes and ears would be numerous, located all over its body in the spaces between its chitin and bones, thus giving it full coverage in all directions for accurate location of external stimuli. These eyes would be like an octopus’s, yet as sharp as a hawk’s, and those ears would be adorned with cones for enhanced range.
As could be comprehended, multiple sets of eyes and ears require multiple brains to process. A flaw of typical Earth brains is that they are centralized, meaning that if the head is detached from the body, the rest of the organism withers, dies, and rots. A better system would be to decentralize the concept of a brain, similar to how the internet is a connected form of various databases. All along the nerves of the creature would be nodes of brain cells that correspond to organs local to it. Each node would control a portion of the body in tandem with the other nodes, and in the event that a limb is cut off, the surviving remainder would be unaffected by the loss. No phantom limbs would ever haunt the creature until its advanced tissue regeneration replaced the lost appendages, a feature that would further leave a possibility for the creature to continue to function while missing most of its being.
This creature would not be a non-sapient animal, but plenty intelligent, its nodes hardwired for high memory retention. Its biggest nodule would not be in its mouthy head, but in its protected middle, hidden behind walls of chitin and muscle. This nodule would most resemble the human brain, yet be bigger. It would never forget a single thing it had ever seen, yet would also bypass the headaches hypermemory gives the unwashed. Furthermore, the creature would not have the capability to assume: about itself, about others, about the true, about the false, about the unknown, about the known, about the universe, about math, science, literature, and so on.
Everyone knows what is said about assumptions, everyone knows what is said about pride. It is that which divides and deceives, so why not remove it?
When it comes to talent, there is nothing this creature cannot do, easily absorbing all subjects and replicating them to their fullest. While it would be a strange-looking doctor, indeed, it could still be one, as well as an architect, writer, and barista all in one. There would be no such thing as finding an innate talent—to this creature, it is already innately talented at everything.
With its wisdom must come balance. Humans are naturally egotistical and prideful, something that is their eternal downfall, so this creature would be wired to be altruistic by nature, possessing no room to turn evil. Its emotions and thought processes would not quite work like how a human’s might, nor would its morals adhere to what a human’s would be. Things that had served humanity in its ancestry would be culled, all the pride and cognitive biases weeded out, leaving the scattered mind of the creature more open. To further the goal of this altruism, the biologist in question could let the creatures give off pheromones signaling their emotions; it would be impossible to ‘other’ others, then.
Psyches have inborn differences; that is true amongst all living beings. The mutations, variations, and endless recombinations of genetics are unpredictable, and unpredictability breeds possible undesirability. Since this creature would already be biologically perfect—any good biologist would not purposefully introduce defects into their creation’s genetic code—there would be no need for recombination, due to any subsequent mutations being likely to end up disadvantageous. Traditional two-party reproduction would therefore be thrown out the window, with asexual reproduction promoted in its place. After all, the children would have the same flawless genome as their lone parent.
The rest of their internals would also have to be rearranged. The creature could breathe while it ate, eliminating the possibility of choking on regular food. All of its blood vessels would be in duplicate, for safeguarding. The immune system would always properly gauge what is appropriate to defend itself against, never self-destructing over mere peanuts nor attacking the very body it inhabits. Due to being actively designed, that system would know of all possible diseases, and how to act accordingly.
With everything in order, the perfect creature would be whole. But would it be finished?
The biologist in question would ponder over this design. With the power they had, the creature would certainly function. But would it be without flaw? Would it be perfect?
They had the power to create, so why not continue to tweak it, as more ideas, things overlooked, design flaws come into their mind? This would not be left up to random chance, but with their own hands, after all. They could adjust, upgrade, throw out, alter, redo, enhance, rethink, add onto, remove, change, fine-tune… all ad nauseum. Never would they be done with their ideas, never would they sit back and relax, never would they shrug their shoulders and say, “This is as good as I can make it.”
Perhaps they would walk around in their day-to-day, realize flaws within themselves that they wish to fix, and then do so on their creation, thus living vicariously through it.
Perhaps they would do this infinitely, to the end of their life. They only have the power to make one new creature, after all; there’s no eternal life or anything like that.
Perhaps they wouldn’t name this being until they were completely satisfied with it, ready to release it into the world.
Perhaps one person looked at the creature they were making and critiqued it as ugly, an abomination. Now the biologist is afraid to unleash it as-is, becoming obsessed with refining it until it could not be critiqued at all.
Perhaps their vision would twist. They had sacrificed beauty for functionality before, but now they sacrificed functionality for beauty, then grew unhappy with that and sacrificed beauty for functionality again, then hated the design and did the reverse yet again, then reversed it again, then inverted it, then subverted it, then turned it upside down, doing this over and over and over and over again in an endless, vicious loop.
Perhaps there is a reason no one sapient has the ability to design reality just quite yet.
What a daydream it is, to create—or to be—the perfect being.
#short story#short stories#microfiction#experimental fiction#miscellaneous microfictions#i have no idea what genre this is actually
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