#so i think my brain was mourning the time that went by in a very mysterious way.. it's crazy to think about how much time has passed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr has 411 employees.

#so i think my brain was mourning the time that went by in a very mysterious way.. it's crazy to think about how much time has passed

eetherealgoddess · 2 months

Text

So I feel like I wrote my last two stories a little mid so hopefully this is more detailed and well written. Also brought back the language barrier cuz I love it too and haven’t written a story with it in a while. :)

ꨄRabid Loveꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Hybrid Au

❦Your deceased grandmother’s will passed down wealth, a mansion in Japan, and five exotic hyrbids❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

❣︎A little love between some of the characters as well❣︎

Not fully proofread!

Japanese language is red

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture him as a black male but you can see him however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Rabid Love

The manor sits on top of a hill, distant from the busy streets of the city near. Trees cover the surface, surrounding as if a natural gate. Very few houses of the same build sit near amongst the land that stretches along. It had been a few weeks since your wealthy grandmother passed down the hybrids that you’re going to live with in her enormous house. You weren’t too excited about the news at first, having heard nothing but the word “responsibility” pop into your brain, however you couldn’t help but accept the gift once the will was stated as you sat in the chair of the office.

Once all was set, you moved yourself as well as your belongings into the mansion she once lived in, sort of creeped out by the fact that her ghost may or may not be lingering. Regardless, the situation had been unsettling considering she died inside the home. You mentally shook your anxiety away as you gathered your things from the car, thinking about how you and the hybrids would get along. The note she left had warned you of all concerns as well as facts about them.

So far you only knew that they are all males, adults, and two out of five of them are biologically related. They are broad with strong personalities. They can take care of themselves for the most part and were sort of like her sons. All of the males have the alpha gene which is the only thing you have to worry about, as a female yourself considering their weird dominance obsession. It is common for male hybrids to compete for superiority, especially when it comes to humans. It’s a surprise that these particular beings even got along as well as they do.

They were already situated in the house so you were the outsider coming in, having had an estranged relationship with your deceased grandmother for the majority of your lives. It wasn’t until a few years before she died you reached out, finding out that she had moved to Japan and started a new life away from the family when you were a child. It was sweet, the time you spent together before she went into hospice and gave into the light. You were at peace that she was no longer in physical pain so you were able to mourn in a brighter way, the thought helping you feel better.

Once you made it to the door, you took a deep breath and walked into the manor to begin your new life, set for the rest of your days by the blessing from your grandmother’s will. When you finally walked in, you were met with the smell of vanilla with a pinch of cinnamon, the beautiful decor shining amongst the white walls, reflecting off the marble floor perfectly. You weren’t used to such luxury, your gaze stuck on the maroon furniture placed in the foyer. A long staircase wrapped around a pillar to the left of the entrance facing inside.

You walked further, passing the foyer and walking through the arch. A butler stood, greeting you as he grabbed your luggage, leading you to your new bedroom up the stairs. You eye the doors you pass as you both stroll down the hall. He bows once you make it to the room before leaving you to your lonesome. You eye the large bed that you couldn’t wait to lay in for the first time. It looked far better than anything you’ve ever slept on, including the pillows.

You set your luggage down and gaze at the rest of the room, glancing at your balcony as well as the television and electric fireplace under it. A maroon rug on the cream carpet placed in front of the bed as well as an ottoman, and a walk-in closet near the bathroom’s door that’s connected through the bedroom. You decide to unpack your stuff later, eager to get meeting the hybrids over with as soon as possible. When you walk out of your room, you check the halls both ways as you listen for a presence near, to no avail. You move to the staircase before ascending down all the while gently holding the railing.

You walk through the foyer, surprised to not see any butlers or hybrids as you make your way to the living space. You perk up when you hear rustling in the kitchen, rushing to the area. You see a cabinet open, covering a face as they’re bent over, blonde tail sticking up as they search for something.

“Hey.” You say, attempting to make your presence known though you watch as the person ignores you and continues their hunt. You stood awkwardly as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

Damn. Should I walk away?

Finally the male grabs whatever he was looking for and stands up straight, closing the cabinet’s door before looking at you as he tears the bag of a snack. His blonde hair sways as his attention shifts to you, dark eyes boring into yours as he takes a bite. His ears stick out above his head, perking up as he chews.

“Who are you?” He says, accent thick even with his mouth full, swallowing before taking another bite. One of his hands is placed in his pocket as his tail sways to the other side. His face holds an unreadable expression.

“Y/n. I’m G/n’s granddaughter.” He hums before nodding, staring at you for a little longer before walking towards the doorway, turning slightly to the side to eye you.

“Mikey.” He says before disappearing into the hall. You stood frozen in your position.

I guess that wasn’t so bad. That must’ve been the lion. He was shorter than I thought he’d be. Four more and the hardest part will be over.

You walk out of the kitchen and head out of the den down the second hall. You hear music from a familiar videogame you once played, following the sound as you prepare yourself to meet whichever hybrids are playing the game. When you reached the closed door, your hand wrapped around the doorknob. You twist the object and push the door open, entering the large room that seems to be the game room, considering the futuristic look and electronic devices that surround the area. A large flat - screen displays the game as you face the back of the gaming chairs that hold two people.

You notice one of their tails hanging to the side of the chair, indicating one of the leopards your grandmother noted. “They come off mischevious though they do have a sweet side once you surpass that phase, but don’t forget that it isn’t a facade. They find amusement in others’ suffering.”

You’re glad she was honest though it didn’t calm your nerves in the slightest. Hybrids are known to be dangerous by nature considering their societal views of the world surrounding them. It comes from a survival instinct that somehow turned into play. They are intimidating creatures, especially when they are exotic which is why they are so expensive. You move into the room further before clearing your throat quietly.

“Hello.” You state, awaiting a response as the screen continues on. The only one who acknowledges you is the person who turns their head on the left, revealing tiger ears as their golden eyes meet yours. His lips upturn into a wide grin, turning in his seat to where he sits sideways, the tiger tattoo on his neck prominent under his long black and blonde hair, as well as the tail that sticks out on the other side of the chair.

“Hey there.” He greets. “Do you know Japanese?”

You shook your head as your hand reached the back of your neck in embarrassment, smiling sheepishly. “Nah. Sorry about that.”

“You knew you were moving here yet didn’t bother to learn basic Japanese? How smart of you.” Another voice says from the seat next to the tiger who chuckles in response.

You didn’t know what the first part of his speech was, but considering the last part of it you could tell it probably wasn’t the nicest statement. Irritation creeps in but you didn't want to assume the worst so you ignored the remark.

“Kazutora.” He states before nodding over to the man who sits next to him. “That’s Rin.”

“Cool. Y/n.” You respond.

“Well, nice to meet ya, Y/n. I guess I’ll see ya around.” He says before giving you one last smile and turning back in his seat to face the screen. You nod to yourself before leaving the room with a “You too.”

You sigh as you make your way out of the hall and towards the staircase. You walk up the stairs heading to your room before deciding to find the last two cats. Then you can breathe and focus on unpacking. As you walk past the upstairs balcony, you stroll down the hall that holds the doors to the bedrooms. You notice a cracked door as well, whispers and the sound of a man talking low. The closer you get the more your eyebrows furrow as you hear wet smacking sounds. When you look through the crack, your hand covers your mouth as you eye the display.

Long pink hair drapes over the shoulders of the man bent over with his face against the bed, a red hue covering his face as drops of sweat cause his skin to glisten. His eyebrows are furrowed as his nose scrunches, fingers gripping the comforter as his body rocks against the man behind him while his ears are flat. The jaguar’s tail is held behind him by the long haired leopard’s hand, naked body glistening with sweat along with highlighting the large tattoo embedded on his torso, all the while he pounds into the man below him. His other hand grips his hips, claws piercing the skin as their skin smacks together. Both men pant while releasing occasional moans and praises.

Once your eyes make contact with purple you swiftly move away and rush towards your room, slamming the door behind you as you press your back against it. You had not expected any of that but you didn’t plan to act weird about it. It just caught you by surprise as well as making you embarrassed for being caught watching.

You sigh before turning your own tv on and beginning your unpacking process. Once you finished you heard a knock at your door. You yell, “Come in!”

The door opens to reveal the butler from earlier.

“Dinner is ready, madam.”

“Oh, thanks. Also, you don’t have to call me madam.”

“Yes, L/n” You shrug as he leads you to the empty dining room. You sit in one of the chairs and watch as the chef comes out with a covered plate, setting it in front of you before lifting it to reveal your delicious smelling dinner. You didn't hesitate to dig in, causing some to drip out of your mouth. You’ve honestly never tasted something so delectable in your life. You down the plate of food so fast, you take a second to breathe before you ask for more, tempted to get up on your own and grab it from the chef’s station.

“You’re gonna choke if you slurp it down like that again.” A voice says from the entrance of the room, causing you to turn your head in their direction. You immediately felt warmth in your face when you see the leopard from earlier, his long black and blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, swaying as he walks in before sitting at the table.

His ears stick up as his tail moves to rest against his lap, fingers connected as his face leans on the back of his hands. His leg crosses as a sly smile falls along his expression. A strand of hair falls in front of his face as his droopy eyes gaze at you from across.

“I’ll be fine.” You respond just as another plate of food is placed in front of you. “Y/n.” You shake off your anxiety considering it’s really not a big deal. They could’ve at least closed the door.

“Haitani Ran.” He offers a hand, dark claws out causing you to hesitate before accepting with your own.

He takes the opportunity to lift the back of your hand to connect his lips, releasing you as he licks the taste of your skin off his lips. You ignored the residue tingle left on your hand and began to eat your second plate. You glance at the other men who entered the room, noticing all of them except the lion.

They all sit in their seats, Rin beside Ran and the pink haired male next to them. Kazutora takes a seat next to you.

“Wonder what’s on the menu.” Rin states sarcastically.

“Our favorite as always.” Ran responds with a knowing look.

“How do you think she’ll react?” Kazutora asks with amusement.

“She wouldn’t know the difference, you know how dense humans are.” The scarred male says.

You wish you would have at least looked into a translation tool of some sort because you try telling yourself that they’re just having a normal conversation but you feel like you’re being shit - talked. You know that it’s a ‘you’ problem but the tone and energy that comes with their speech has been off.

“Hey, I’m Y/n.” You say to the male you have yet to meet. He gives you a bored look before stating, “Sanzu.” Mikey finally entered the dining room with his arm rubbing against his tired eyes. He heads to the seat on the other side of you and sits after pulling the chair back. He leans over the table with his head lying on his palm.

“Had a nice nap?” Kazutora questions.

“Not long enough.” He says with a soft voice.

“You came earlier than usual.” Rin says before turning to his brother. “You owe me.” To which Ran rolled his eyes.

The same chef as earlier, along with a few others came out with covered plates and set them in front of the hybrids. They also poured their preferred beverage into the wine glasses. Your eyebrows furrowed as to how you forgot to ask for your own drink or why they didn’t have a cup already out like everyone else.

Well, I am new so it’s probably nothing personal.

When they lifted the cover, you eye the chunks of raw meat along with the side dishes surrounding the plate. The smell was enticing though you’ve never been one to enjoy raw food in fear of the repercussions.

I guess they are technically big cats so it’s healthy for them.

You’ve never seen meat that looks quite like what’s on their plates. You watch as Sanzu rubs his meat into the red substance that puddles around it before lifting the chopsticks to his mouth.

“What is that?” You hope to not come off rude or ignorant though you were just so curious you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Some of them gave each other looks all the while snickering or rolling their eyes.

“Fresh human.” Mikey says casually before taking another bite. Your eyes widen, hand holding your own chopsticks pausing as you stare down at your plate.

“Don’t worry, your dinner is animal meat.” The golden eyed tiger reassures you. Unfortunately, you’ve seemed to have lost your appetite.

“So, how do you obtain human meat?” You ask.

“By cooking a human.” Rin snorts. You glare at his smart ass answer and look over to the others.

“Your grandmother has freezers full of cut human slabs by those who signed off on donating their body parts to the Hybrid - Food Society Association.” Ran explains before taking another bite of food.

“They’re cleaned thoroughly before they’re slaughtered considering most donations are only after they’re dead.” He continued, “lucky for us only the healthiest of humans are chosen to be a meal specially made for the exotic hybrids such as us.”

How have you never heard of this before? Then again they only make normal pet food for non - exotic hybrids. You’ve never even been around a regular hybrid let alone the type you have to live with now. You nod your head as you prevent the bile from coming up your throat. You know that humans are technically just chunks of meat with legs, still on the food chain for other species and even on their own at times. You still couldn’t help but feel disturbed. They could decide to eat you at any moment and you’d be done for.

You turn to the chef and give your thanks before standing up and nodding a dismissal to the rest of the men, heading to your room so you could take a moment to relieve yourself of the anxiety forming. When you reached your bedroom, you decided to take a shower, gathering a pair of pajamas before entering your bathroom and turning the faucet on. After your shower you completed your nightly routine and hopped into bed.

After a few hours of scrolling and not being able to sleep, you climbed out of bed and walked through the hall to the staircase. Once you reach the den, one of your eyebrows raise at the tiger who sat on the couch leaned over. As you walked around you noticed the tray on his lap as well as the opened wrap in his hands that he brought to his lips to lick the lining before rolling the leaf, closing around the green flower. His ears perked up as he turned slightly to look at you.

“Want some?” He says with a smile and tilted head, holding the joint up.

Sitting on the balcony connected to his room, you both pass the stick as you converse about whatever comes to mind, slight laughter along with semi - deep conversation that’s lingering between the surface and depth. A moment of silence included with the level of ganja consumed enhanced your need for sleep, you lying on the ground as your legs hang off the edge of the balcony. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel weightless under the moonlight. Your steady breathing caught Kazutora’s attention.

He turns back to look at you before finishing off the roach and ashing it out. He tossed it below, the burnt leaf disappearing into the forested area. He leaned back, connecting with the floor as he turned his head to the side to observe your sleeping face. His own expression is stoic besides the light pink hue that lingers on his face. After lying there for a moment, he sits up to lean over you and sniff near your neck, your distinct scent fuming his nostrils. One of his hands move to your shoulder as he grips the skin, sniffing a little harsher than before to receive every fume that comes from you.

A few weeks pass and you find yourself with a casual routine. Fortunately, you’ve bonded well with Kazutora though that’s not much of a surprise since he was the most welcoming. His extrovertedness did well with helping you out of your comfort zone. Today you went out to run errands. Eyeing the building to your left and noticing that it is a bakery, you decide to run in and buy a case of Mikey’s favorite treat. You knew he was running out so a quick pit stop couldn’t hurt.

When you arrived home you dropped the case on the kitchen counter before quickly taking your own stuff to your room, planning to place it in the right area once you finished setting your bags on the floor. When you made it downstairs, you stopped to see Mikey opening the case you had set on the counter. When he grabs the snack, he opens the package and sets the treat between his lips, fangs glistening before he takes a bite.

“Thanks.” He says before walking out. You shrug before sneaking one of your own and setting the rest in the pantry. You knew that he’d eat all of those within the next two to three days so you thought to snatch one to try before he eats them all.

A few days pass and he asks if you can style his hair so he wouldn’t have to. You didn’t think pulling half your hair up in a ponytail could be that much work but to each their own. You didn’t mind styling his hair, the soft strands entangling your fingers as you pulled it up to wrap the band around the section once you were finished brushing the mane. You thought his ears would make it harder for you but there was no trouble at all. He stared at the tv all the while you completed the ponytail.

From that day on he would automatically show up in your room and position himself on the ottoman at the foot of the bed. You never complained nor rejected him. It was quite the bonding experience even when you two didn’t talk at all. More weeks passed and he gradually showed more comfortability around you, making excuse after excuse just to touch you such as making you carry him, lying his head on your lap, or spooning you whenever he’d ask to sleep in your bed. You found the behavior adorable and the company appreciated.

A couple months passed and you were walking up the stairs to your bedroom after a smoke session with Kazutora. When you opened your door, the putrid smell smacked your face before you eye the red liquid from the freshly slaughtered human arm lying on your comforter. You covered your mouth before bile shot up your throat and caused you to vomit on the floor. Dry heaving and gagging, tears fall down your face at the burning liquid from your throat as well as the stench filling your nostrils.

“What a sight.” A voice says behind you though you’re too distracted to notice, running to your bathroom before slamming the door shut. Laughter filled the room.

After you got yourself together you were met with an ‘apology’ from Rin and Sanzu, though it only consisted of, “It was just a prank.” Ran offered for you to sleep in his room until the mattress and sheets were replaced, to which Mikey and Kazutora tried to argue against in order for you to stay with them instead.

A few months pass and you wake up in the middle of the night. You felt the urge to walk down the hall considering the loud noise that startled you awake. Once you did, you found one of the bedroom doors open. Walking in, you gasped when you see Sanzu on the ground completely out of it with his eyes barely open and head leaning against the wall. You immediately take action and stick your fingers into his throat forcing him to vomit whatever he consumed. Once he came back to consciousness you wrapped your arms around him and cried on his shoulder for his safety, his own eyes staring ahead into the space across from where you sat.

Unknown to you, after a week passed he made himself a routine of observing you while you slept. Sometimes he would even climb in the bed, accidentally waking you up though you weren’t concerned, embracing the jaguar in your arms as you fell back into slumber.

One day, you just couldn’t take your eyes off of Ran’s long hair. You asked if you could play with it, as it reminded you of the mannequin heads you received as a little girl. He didn’t mind. As a matter of fact he fell asleep numerous times on your lap, nuzzling comfortably against your thighs as your fingers traced his scalp. Sometimes, he’d even ask you to downright scratch his head, his body reacting slightly as the tingles go straight down his spine. It was cute.

A month passed and you were walking through the rest of the mansion you had yet to see. You almost passed a room until the leopard patterned ears caught your attention. You watched as Rin worked out in the gym, lifting large weights. You eye the matching tattoo that sits on the opposite side of his brother’s torso. Never really exercising consistently, you walk into the room and grab the smallest weights as a joke before standing next to him and lifting your own, giving him a humorous smile. He side glances at you before you turn away, continuing to lift as you miss the red hue forming on his face.

A year passed and you decidedl that it’s time for you to meet other humans who reside in Japan. Having been slacking on your social skills, you couldn’t help the nerves that struck when you went out to meet a group of people you’ve never met before you were hit up on social media. You made sure to dress appropriately considering you all would be bar hopping and running around the booming streets of a popular city. The night was spent with pure joy and good energy as you all roamed the area. The hours reach the am and you finally return home, a little tipsy as you stumble into the foyer.

“Where were you?” You almost jolt out of your skin when you try passing the den, turning to see Kazutora sitting on the sofa with a leg crossed.

“Oh, you scared me.” You giggle in relief. His expressionless gaze caused you to quiet down before you responded to his question. “I went out with some people I met.”

“Who?” He asks in a serious tone. You raise one of your eyebrows.

“What is this an interrogation?” He holds his hands up in surrender with a sheepish smile.

“It was just a question.” You sigh before shaking your head.

“I-I’m sorry about that, I shouldn’t have gotten so defensive.” You drop your purse on the floor before sitting next to him.

“It’s alright. Wanna smoke?” He questions before he feels your head leaning against his shoulder. Your quiet breathing indicated your slumber. He sits up and turns his body towards you, shifting you to lean back on the couch before diving into your neck, sniffing the scents from the various humans that had been in your presence. His expression turns into irritation, a drop in his stomach as he feels the need to scrub your body clean of the stench that surrounds you. Instead, he helped you to bed.

A few weeks pass and you go on a date. The meeting was nice and the guy really made your day with his gentlemen - like behavior. You stepped out of the car after he dropped you off. He walked you to your door before you gave him a kiss on the cheek and told him, “Bye.” When you entered the door, you were immediately grabbed by the arm while you were sniffed by Rin.

“Gross.” He hissed before dropping your arm and walking away. Leaving you confused as you stood in your spot. On another occasion you were in the middle of braiding Ran’s hair while he faced you with his legs over yours, both of you sitting on your bed.

“Wouldn’t you rather watch tv than me?” You chuckled. He shook his head with a smile.

“Nope.” He says before pushing you on your back and climbing on top of you, nuzzling his head between your shoulder and positioning himself comfortably enough to nap. You roll your eyes and shift your attention to the flat screen while caressing his back until you fall asleep on your own.

When you went to the bathroom after you both woke up and he left your room, your eyebrows furrowed at the marks left on your neck. Tracing them as you stared deeply into the mirror. You confronted him though he promised to not do it again, he didn’t listen. You begin to hide it with makeup when going out only for the foundation to show up missing each time, causing you to stop buying new products considering they’d disappear anyway.

“Master, my dorayaki is gone!” Mikey whines as he sits on top of your lap, legs circled around your waist as you sit on the sofa in the den. You pull him back by the arms while giving him a look.

“Mikey, I’ve already told you to stop calling me that.”

He continues to whine about his missing dorayaki, ignoring your statement as he calls you the preferred name over and over.

“I can’t get you more if you don’t get up.” To which he replied, “Then take me with you.”

“You’d still have to get down.” He paused above you, sniffing your neck before you felt a long wet muscle leave a trail of moisture.

“Mikey!” You gasp.

“All I can smell is Ran’s stupid scent on you.” He hissed before he continued to lick and mark up your neck with his own scent. You ignore the chills running up your back as you attempt to push him off though his grip is keeping you locked. His tail wraps around one of your arms while his hand grabs your other wrist, preventing you from pushing against him. You huff frustratingly.

You’ve been noticing the absence of a few of your clothing. The only thing you know is that someone has been stealing from your dirty clothes basket. It probably doesn’t worry you as much as it should but you couldn’t really do anything about it without the risk of accusing the wrong person and causing a problem. It wasn’t until one night you walked into Sanzu’s, seeing him naked and asleep as he held one of your favorite shirts. Your eyes widen at the pair of your panties tangled around his limp cock.

You immediately leave the room, shutting the door behind you and walking back to your bedroom. You brush the memory off as something to do with their instincts and comfortability or something, you don’t really know how to react to that. You didn’t bring it up nor did you say anything about it to anyone else. You’ve caught a few of them either having intercourse or masturbating but never once with your clothes. Not until then or until you ended up finding Kazutora sniffing your panties with drowsy eyes all the while Mikey pounding his ass above him, his head leaning on the tiger’s back while he gripped his waist. Now that was a sight you hadn’t expected to see at all.

You just thought that they all had a harmless crush on you and didn’t know what to do with it besides their sexual escapades so you didn’t say a word. You didn’t find a problem with their behavior until you had a visitor. You had no idea why they acted so rudely to your new friend, her being a girl who you were not attracted to in the slightest way sexually or romantically. It was clear the platonic friendship you had going on but for them to just outright go out of their way to aggressively make her uncomfortable is insane to you. You refrained from inviting anyone else over. It seemed to have just gone downhill from there.

One night you woke up and felt cold air hitting your whole body which made no sense considering you fell asleep warm in your pajamas. What you hadn’t expected was the moisture hitting one of your nipples nor the muscle sliding against your clit. Two pairs of purple eyes glower at you all the while continuing their assault. Claws slightly penetrate your thighs as well as the breast that’s being held against a mouth. Your hips buck before you sit up and push the older brother back, as well as the head of the younger.

“Rin! Ran! What in the fuck?!” You exclaim.

You had them all sit down in the den, the males holding expressions of boredom or little care for what you were going on about. You set boundaries about everything that had made you uncomfortable. The only reason you were explaining anything was because they are all hybrids and have different sets of rules and social constructs than regular humans. Although disturbed you decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, hoping things would get better.

You made an unfortunate decision, attempting to invite another friend over, this time a male. Considering there had been some time that passed and the hybrids had listened to your concerns, you thought that you could finally have some company. It was very late by the time you both realized the time, you being nice and offering him to stay in one of the guest bedrooms and sleep over. When you hadn’t heard from him or seen him walk out of the room, you decided to check in. Only for you to let out a scream of terror at what was left of the mauled body lying on the bed. You couldn’t stop trembling as you hyperventilated, Kazutora rubbing your sides as he held you against his chest while the maids cleaned the mess.

A few days pass as you stay locked in your room. You get up from the bed and head to your grandmother’s old bedroom on the other side of the mansion. You searched for anything that could notify you of the violence that occured. Some piece of information on how to stay safe or figure out how to lessen their weird behavior. The only thing you found was your grandmother’s journal. You sat in your bedroom and read the entire passage. Your hands tremble as realization smacks you in the face. When you couldn’t find anyone upstairs, you rushed down to the game room after passing the empty den.

All of them were either sitting on gaming chairs or the couches, focusing on what was displaying on the screen. You walked to the tv, unplugging it and throwing the journal on the ground. You contemplated just making your exit quietly but you were so angry you acted out of emotion.

“What the fuck did you do to my grandma?! Who are you and what was your plan?”

They all stare at you with absent expressions. The only thing that could be heard was your heavy breathing.

“What are you talking about?” Kazutora questions. You shake your head.

“No don’t fucking try to manipulate me you know exactly what I’m talking about!” You say before grabbing one of the unused controllers near the tv and chucking it at him, only for him to dodge it.

“And what do you think you’re gonna do about it, huh? She’s dead and you’re lucky we spared you.” Rin says with irritation. Your eyes widen.

“Lucky you spared me?! Your plan was to kill me after poisoning her to death so you can steal everything from us!” You exclaim. “You lied to her and she was too old to notice that she even wrote it herself! You knew she didn’t have her right mind so you manipulated her into thinking you loved her!” The sound of another controller breaking catches your attention.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. We loved her like our mother.” Sanzu growls.

“Then why did you gradually kill her to steal from her! You don’t do that to people you love!”

“It wasn’t part of the plan to bond with her. She was just some old rich lady before we got to know her.” Ran says with a stoic expression. You scoff.

“Oh please! You’re fucking terrible!” You exclaim before walking to the exit. Before you could leave the room you were snatched by your arm.

“Where are you going?” Mikey questions while gripping your arm with his claws slightly piercing your skin, dark eyes glaring into your own orbs.

“Away from you freaks.” You hissed attempting to pull your arm away from him only to get thrown on the ground. You land with a thud along with a grunt when the back of your head meets the carpet.

Before you can get back up, you’re forced on your back, Mikey climbing on top of you and pinning you to the ground.

“LET ME GO!” You roar, fear mixing with the anger as the grip on your wrists tighten. His tail wraps around your neck in a tight hold, blocking your airway while he stares down at you with a cold look. You stare wide eyed as you struggle in his hold.

“Calm down, Y/n.” Kazutora says as they all gather around, him crouching down to eye you from above.

“Knock her out already.” Rin states before Sanzu pressed harshly against your pressure point, causing you to go limp immediately.

“It’s okay.” A voice cooes in your ear from behind. Heat covers your body as you groan while slowly coming to reality. The only light is the moonlight reflecting into the room, causing a hollow glow. You feel your own body rocking as the feeling of being stretched from below causes you to gasp. Hands grip your shoulders as your stomach is pressed against the bed. You hear panting behind you as kisses are placed on your neck and shoulder.

“I… hah, love you so much. Fuck!” Kazutora breathes out as he rocks his lower body against yours, sliding his thick erection out of your body before shoving it back inside deeply, purposefully aiming himself to hit the spot he knows will drive you crazy. You look up wide eyed at purple eyes that stare down at you from above, cock in hand right in front of your eyesight as he kneels on the bed.

“M’ so close. G-gonna fill this pussy up with my fucking cum.” His hair drapes over your back as his thrusts harden. He pulls his hips back before pressing them against your ass, accelerating his steady pace as he aims his head perfectly against your g - spot. You whimper as you bite your lip, tears streaming down your face as you turn your head the other way to not face the older Haitani. Only to be met with icy blue orbs glowering down at you with a twisted look of lust on his expression, such an intense gaze that forces you to shut your eyes tightly, waiting for the time to pass and this to be over.

Kazutora’s thrusts become harder as you feel a rise of your own stomach, the stimulation getting the best of your body before you release, the male over you holding his hips against your ass before he shoots ropes of cum inside of you. Breathing heavily, you feel his weight lift off of you before forcing you to turn over on your back. You cry out when Mikey crawls in between your legs, holding your legs up as he positions himself to push inside.

“I hate you! I-I hate all of you!” You hysterically cry, using your fists to bang against Mikey’s chest before Rin appears in your vision, grabbing your chin as he leans over, red hue covering his cheeks.

“Shut up.” He says before forcing you into a passionate kiss.

Once they were all done taking their turns with you, you were carried to the bathroom to get cleaned up by Ran. Your limp body is exhausted from being used by the stronger species, worn out and broken from the inside out. You knew that the next day would be spent planning your escape.

279 notes · View notes

lunarfleur · 9 months

Text

Mother Knows Best ~ Earth 42! Miles Morales

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin @urfavnegronerd @kombuuuu @nagi3seastorm @enchanting-violet @hiyaitssans @milesmolasses @luvjunie @conitagray @n1cole-ghost

Summary: It was rare for Miles to talk about such things with his mother. He didn’t want her to coddle him, to give him a gentle lie. He knew his mother was a great woman, but she was just a bit eccentric. This time is was different. He had no one else to go to.

Warnings:anxiety if you squint, Miles overthinking, but nothing bad!

This is x gender neutral reader!

“I don’t know, I just…froze.”

It was rare for Miles to talk about such things with his mother. He didn’t want her to coddle him, to give him a gentle lie. He knew his mother was a great woman, but she was just a bit eccentric. This time is was different. He had no one else to go to.

“Why’d you freeze?”

Her hands ran barely pulled at his head. One side was out, his natural hair free while she worked on one side. Her hands were coated with oil while she worked so close to his scalp. Rio was the only person who could do his hair. Ever.

“I don’t know.”

“Are you scared?”

She thought back to the nights she’d stay up, mourning the loss of her husband while still trying to make ends meet for her son. Too many nights she let Miles peek around the wall, watching her fall apart over a glass of wine. She never had the energy to stop him.

Miles didn’t say anything. She heard him sigh, attempting to make it quiet. From above, she could see him biting the inside of his cheek.

“It’s okay if you are,” she added.

“Maybe,” he whispered.

Rio hummed, skilled hands working on his hair while he stared at the ceiling.

“You like them?” That made Miles smile, she noticed. A real smile, too. A sight she rarely saw from him.

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

“Why?”

“I dunno. They just…make me feel good.”

“Yeah?” Rio fought back a wide grin at the sound of his voice, raising in pitch while he fidgeted in his chair.

“Yeah.”

There was a brief silence, aside from the sound of Rio’s bangles clanging against one another.

“So, then what are you scared of.”

Miles took a minute to think, and Rio didn’t stop him. She could hear the gears turning in his head.

“It’s just like…there ain’t no way this is real. And there ain’t no way this is gonna last. I mean, they take up every space of my brain, all the time, 24/7. Ain’t I too young for this?”

“Too young for what?”

“For…for running head first into something I know is just gonna get me hurt.”

Rio hummed. She watched her son squint. That’s what he did when he brain was going faster than he could handle.

“I don’t know what I’m doin, mama. Don’t that mean someone’s gonna get hurt?”

“That’s what love is, Miles. Learning. Getting better.”

“Love,” he mumbled. Then, he spoke up. “How am I supposed to be in love if I don’t know what I’m doin?”

“You don’t have to have experience to be in love, Miles. You just have to feel.”

Rio was met with a brief silence. It made her think back to the days when she was young. When she met her future husband, when the fears slowly started fading. Miles gets it from her.

“I do plenty of that, ma. Feeling.” Miles said it in a tome of disgust, like the very thought of feeling so big was gross.

“That’s a good thing, baby.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. It means that you’re able to give someone your heart. It means that someone will be able to love you back.”

“What if I get hurt?”

“Then you’ll be able to come right back here, to the people who love you no matter what.”

Miles paused, sighing. He tried to thing about his mother. Aaron. Ganke. And yet, his mind went straight back to them. Like always. The butterflies in his stomach made him want to puke, they were so obvious.

“I really like them, mama.”

“Then tell them that, Mijo. It’s okay to give.”

Mother knows best, right?

#earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x you #miles morales #rio morales #atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderman #x gender neutral reader

322 notes · View notes

goosewriting · 6 months

Text

Like a Lost Dalmatian

summary: after the accident at Alchemax, Jonathan Ohnn is nowhere to be found, until he finally finds his way home. but he’s not the same as he once was.

relationship: The Spot x gn!reader

warnings: hurt & comfort, my try at describing what his skin feels like lmao

word count: 2.6k

A/N: the very moment i saw spot in the movie trailer, i knew he’d be my fav. and finally i got around to writing something for him. i just want him to be happy 😩<3

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

It’s been a week since the accident. What exactly happened, you still don’t know. You only know there were sightings of several spider-people in the city after Spiderman died. Phenomena that you could only describe as “glitches” started spreading throughout the city, and Jonathan had told you to stay inside.

That was seven days ago. You haven’t heard from your boyfriend since.

It isn’t rare for him to have delayed responses to your texts, especially when there’s a time crunch at work. You’re still not sure what exactly they worked on at Alchemax, but whatever his role was, it was fairly important. And this time it clearly went very wrong, one of your biggest fears becoming a reality: the image of a scientist mixing liquids from different vials appears in your brain. The two substances swirl, mixing together, and the scientist almost gives in to thinking it was successful, but then it ends in an explosion. Except that it wasn’t just a random scientist coughing through the smoke his little experiment caused, while taking off the goggles that left a cartoony imprint on his face. No, this time it was the real world, and the whole Alchemax building exploded. The building where your boyfriend works.

With a shaky sigh, you scroll through your chat history for what feels like the hundredth time today; still no new messages from him. You’ve been calling nearby hospitals and the police station every morning and every evening, but you still refuse to lose hope.

But you don’t allow yourself to let the image of Jonathan buried under several tons of rubble into your brain. He’s smart. He's resourceful. And he’s careful. You know the last project at Alchemax was very important, and he talked passionately about it for weeks on end. If he saw danger approaching, he’d leave. He must have. He wouldn’t be stubborn enough to stay back to try and save some of his research with the building literally falling apart over him, right? … Right?

You shake your head to rid yourself of those thoughts. After giving your phone one last hopeful look that immediately turns sour, you groan in frustration, throwing the device onto the couch cushion next to you. Bringing up your knees to your chin, you hug your legs and look out the window of your flat. Your floor is pretty high up, so the setting sunlight dances over the skyline, bathing part of your floors and furniture in a warm golden hue. Your gaze follows some of the glistening particles in the air, resenting the sun for giving you such a view without being able to share it with Jonathan. He would have loved it, stretching out his hand and looking at the light shining through his fingers like a veil of gold, telling you some fun facts about photons or something.

A sniffle escapes you, and your face contorts into a grimace, trying to hold back your tears. No, not yet, you tell yourself. If I give in, I'll be mourning. And if I do that, it means I’ve accepted he’s—

Your train of thought is interrupted by the sound of the entrance door clicking shut. Quickly wiping over your face with the back of your sleeve, you get up to your feet, looking around your living room for something to weaponise. However, the only things on your coffee table are the remains of the barely touched take-out you had for dinner. Grabbing the plastic fork, you hold it in front of you menacingly.

“Who's there?” you demand, taking a careful step towards the hallway. You hear some shuffling and curses under someone’s breath.

“Don’t make me ask you again,” you say, louder this time. “You seriously chose the wrong place to rob today.”

Just as you turn the corner to the short hallway leading to the front door, you choke back a gasp, fork still in hand, albeit trembling slightly.

Even though it’s rather dark, as the sunlight from the windows doesn’t reach this far, you see there’s a person in front of you. Or at least you think it’s a person? Perhaps more of a person-shaped blob, that hurriedly puts on Jonathan's coat, scarf and beanie that were hanging on the rack next to the door.

“Hey, you take those off!” you start, about to approach the stranger.

“Wait!” he says, and you stop abruptly, the fork falling from your hand as you recognise his voice. “Please don’t freak out, a-and don’t come closer. Please.”

You stand frozen in place for a moment, your brain reeling. The wave of relief and happiness from knowing Jonathan's alive clashes with another, much bigger one: the clear feeling that something isn’t right. It feels very close to dread.

“Okay,” you speak much more gently now. As you take a deep breath, you inspect him further: the coat reaches to his knees, but he doesn’t seem to be wearing trousers underneath, nor shoes. His face is covered by the hat and scarf that he wrapped around his whole head several times. His legs, his hands, and every other visible part of him is of a strange chalk-like white colour with some darker parts, but the lack of proper light might be playing a trick on you. So without hesitating, you take the steps needed to reach the light switch, and Jonathan shrinks in on himself with a slight shriek when the hallway lights up, trying to cover himself even more.

“Don’t look at me, not yet!” he essentially pleads, turning his back to you. “There's some explaining to do before you see me.”

“You’re damn right you have to explain yourself,” you retort, perhaps a little harsher than intended. “I thought you were dead, Jonathan. Where were you?!”

“There… there was an accident,” the man before you starts explaining, and you cross your arms over your chest defensively.

“Yeah, no kidding,” you mutter. You can see that he’s fidgeting with the hem of the scarf, and you let your arms fall to your sides again with a sigh.

“Did you get hurt? Do you have, like, a huge scar? Singed your eyebrows off?” you try to sound reassuring, but his whole demeanour is just… odd. “Whatever it is, Jonathan, I'm sure it’s fine. Let me see. Please?”

As you talk, you shorten the distance and reach him, gently placing your hand on his arm. It breaks your heart a little that he flinches at that. It's clear he wants to shake you off, but he lets you turn him around to face you, and you start by taking off the heavy coat, letting it fall to the floor as it slides off of him.

You’re taken aback at the sight, as where you expected there to be a human body in the shape of your boyfriend, there now was a rather comically proportioned one, sans clothes, completely white with dark spots all over.

“Is that a new onesie?” you try to joke, but your voice betrays you. Jonathan doesn’t react. Instead, his large hands shoot up to grab your wrists as you’re about to untangle the scarf.

“Please don’t freak out,” is all he says, and you pull the rest of the garments off of him. You take a step back away from him and bring your hands up to cover your mouth when you see him.

“Where’s your face?!” you ask with a mix of confusion, fear, and even some strange fascination at the sight before you. Jonathan goes on to tell you about the reactor at Alchemax, how they were trying to cross the bridge to a different dimension, and instead ended up bringing spider-people to this universe. He doesn’t hide the resentment in his voice when he talks about how in the end, the new Spiderman with the black suit blew it all up while he was still there. While he talks, you keep walking around him, looking at this new body of his, poking him here and there.

Once he’s done explaining, you look at the big, oval black spot on his face for a long moment, then quickly pinch his belly.

“Ow! Stop- stop that!" Jonathan says, taking both of your hands in his to stop you from trying to poke and tickle him, and you chuckle.

Wait, why are you laughing? This situation is… insane, honestly. He's clearly aggravated. As you should be too, you reprimand yourself. Why are you reacting like this? Lifting your gaze again to where his eyes would be, you erupt into a big smile as you can feel the tears coming, definitely of relief this time.

“Are you… are you not mad?” Jonathan asks, carefully. You take one more moment to marvel at how he’s speaking when he has no mouth.

“I mean… yes? No?” you shrug and shake your head in disbelief, holding onto his hand to guide him to the living room. “Sure, I'm mad because you wouldn’t answer my calls. But no, how could I be mad when you were probably… adjusting to—“ With your free hand, you gesture at him. “All of this.”

“Right, my phone,” Jonathan remembers, turning his face away from you for a moment, as if thinking back to something. “It must have… exploded. Like the rest of, well, everything.”

You let go of his hand to cup his face and turn him to look at you. Well, at least you hope that’s what you’re doing.

“The only thing that matters, Jonathan, is that you’re alive,” you say, and you mean it. “And you’re back home. With me.”

His shoulders slump slightly at your words, and the spot on his face twirls to the side ever so slightly. It would take some time to learn how to read his new face, but you’re sure you’ll get there.

“So you’re not… disgusted? You won’t tell me to pack my stuff and leave?” he asks in an impossibly small voice and you can feel your very soul shattering into a million pieces.

“Is that why you took so long to come back?” you retort instead, grazing over the sides of his face with your thumbs. He nods. “Oh, Jonathan… If that isn’t proof that you’re still you in there, then I don’t know what is. And that's the very reason why I do, in fact, not care what you look like.”

You sit down on the couch, and when he follows, you pull his face closer to place a kiss on the white part at the side.

“I’ve always loved you, and always will. Still do,” you assure him, giving his other cheek a kiss as well, for good measure. Then you smile to yourself, unable to bite your tongue. “Of course I won't tell you to leave. Even when you do look like a lost Dalmatian.”

“Ah, there it is, okay,” he chuckles, and his whole body language changes, sitting a little more upright. He places his hands over yours, and even though there are no eyes, you can still feel his tender gaze on you.

“I love you too,” he whispers in a shaky voice. “And right now I wish I still had lips,” he adds with a sigh. You chuckle.

“We’ll figure it out,” you assure him with a smile. Your hands fall from his face to his shoulders, and once again you find yourself exploring his white exterior, running your hands up and down on his arms, bringing your face closer to the spots to inspect them further.

“So, how does it feel?” you ask suddenly, brushing over his arm with your fingertips. He leans back, thinking it over.

“It’s… strange, for sure,” he starts, trying to put it into words. “I feel lighter, for some reason. Like my insides are made of paper or something. But I don’t think I’m that fragile.”

You hum in response, bringing your eyes up to the spot on his face.

“How can you see, though?” you wonder. “Or talk? Can you smell? Taste?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Jonathan says, tilting his head to the side. “My whole perception changed. It’s more like I can sense what is in front of me. Does that make sense?”

“Like echolocation?” you propose.

“Not really, I’m not producing any high-frequency sounds myself, so…” He straightens up again. “As for the rest of your question: I can still eat and taste and smell, which I’m very relieved about.”

“I bet!” you chuckle, and take one of his hands into both of yours, admiring the blue lines that seem to both wrap around and go through him all at once.

“How does it feel to you?” he asks after a moment. Your head whips back up to look at him. For a second you’re confused as to what he means, then you look back down at his hand.

“Oh, uhm,” you crease your brows in concentration, focusing on how Jonathan feels against your skin. “Well, at first it’s cool to the touch. But if you linger, there’s a warmth that irradiates from you. It’s also smooth, but there’s still some texture to it. Not like fabric, but not quite like paper either.”

Jonathan just nods, seeing that you’re still trying to come up with a better comparison.

“Oh! I know,” you finally say. “It’s like a dumpling. A big, pudgy dumpling. But dry, thankfully.”

“Pudgy?” he asks in mock offence, removing his hand from yours.

“Well, yeah, you’re squishy!” you retort with a laugh, poking his side to make your point.

Except that you didn’t poke anything, because instead of touching the white part, you look down at where your hand disappears into a black spot all the way to your wrist. You immediately pull back your hand, checking to see if all your fingers are still there. A sigh of relief leaves you as you see your limb is intact.

“Oh, yeah, be careful with those,” Jonathan warns, carefully plucking a spot from his arm with his index finger and thumb, then releasing it mid-air, where it levitates. He wriggles his fingers like a magician building suspense before pulling a rabbit out of his hat. “Check this out.” And with that, his hand is gone in the void. After a couple of seconds, he retracts his arm. The spot disappears and he places what he’s holding in your own hands. It’s the plastic fork you left in the hallway.

Your eyebrows are so high up in surprise, your forehead is all scrunched up. Your eyes go from the fork to his face, then back to the fork.

“Your spots are… portals?” you ask in complete disbelief, your mind already coming up with a multitude of uses and things you want to try. But that will have to wait until tomorrow, because now that you have Jonathan back in (relatively) one piece, you can feel the sleep deprivation of the last couple of days catching up to you all at once.

Standing up with effort, as your whole body feels impossibly heavy all of a sudden, you stretch out your hand to your boyfriend.

“It’s late, let’s go to bed,” you say as he takes your hand. “Tomorrow we can start with the experiments.”

“E-Experiments?” he repeats in surprise.

“Well, duh,” you reply as if it was obvious. “We have to see how far your new powers can reach.”

“Right,” he says with a chuckle. This is such a you thing to propose given the whole situation.

Despite not feeling his body like he once did, Jonathan is glad that at least the familiar warmth is still spreading within him when he looks at you.

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @galaxtic-writings, @dybynyght, @wings-of-sapphire, @backalleygays

#goose feathers #across the spiderverse x reader #across the spider-verse x reader #atsv spot x reader #the spot x reader #spiderman spot x reader #jonathan ohnn x reader

150 notes · View notes

seokmthw · 9 months

Text

oh shit, are we in love? | zhang hao

⇢ pairing: zhang hao x reader

⇢ warnings: fluff, a smidge of angst, brief mentions of a toxic relationship

⇢ word count: 1.5k

prompt #5 "you don't have to be so brave with me"

prompt #12 "let's kiss and see where it takes us"

⇢ note: i realized i'm severely lacking zhang hao on my main masterlist and saw this request sitting in my inbox and just had to write it. i went a little crazy with the word count, but hao is so easy for me to write for so it came naturally to me. i hope you all enjoy!

you sniffled, hand coming up to wipe the stinging hot tears away from your eyes, which were focused on the screen of your phone, an image of you and your now ex-boyfriend on full display for you to see. you’d been managing your breakup a lot worse than you anticipated, and when the photo had shown up in your memories, it caused something within you to snap and you cried harder than you have over the past several months since your breakup. maybe it was how happy you looked while he appeared to be losing his love for you, or maybe it was because you longed so badly for something like that again, but you just couldn’t stop the flow of your tears once they started.

throughout your mourning process, you relied very heavily on zhang hao, a boy you met in your music class a couple of semesters ago. he was always there for you when you needed him and made time for you even when he was busy with something. he was the type of person whose presence alone was comforting and you were grateful to have someone like him in your life.

you'd grown almost a little too fond of zhang hao. every little brush of his hand against yours or the hug he gave you when you needed it the most shouldn't have been making the butterflies in your belly flutter around, but they did, and you weren't sure what to make of it. part of you wondered if it was too soon, or if he might be the person you dreamed of being with all along, but you didn't want to ruin what you currently had and decided to keep your lips sealed.

during your most recent state of hysteria, you texted him something almost incoherent about not wanting to be alone and needing him by your side more than ever, but now that you had calmed down a little bit, you tried taking back your words and apologizing to him. but hao was stubborn, and despite being in the middle of his violin practice, he responded quickly and told you he was packing his things up and would be on his way soon.

you felt a little guilty, sure, but the bigger majority of your brain was just ecstatic he would be there, and you'd be able to vent and be in his presence. almost as if on a queue, the sound of his knuckles rapping lightly against your door was echoing throughout your room, mingling with a sniffle as you rose from your nest of blankets on your bed and shuffled to the door.

pulling the heavy, wooden object toward you, hao greeted you with gentlest and softest smile you think you'd ever seen from him. you stepped aside, allowing him entry into your room - which was a disaster, but he never really cared - and watched as he set his belongings down on the floor at the foot of your bed. you shut the door, turning around to be greeted with his arms outstretched, welcoming you to melt into him whenever you were ready.

it didn't take long, because within mere seconds you had your arms secured around his waist and your cheek resting on his chest. hao's arms wrapped around your shoulders, enveloping you in a warmth you didn't know you needed, and he rested his chin atop your head.

you sighed, new tears springing into your eyes and dripping onto your cheeks, and inevitably soaking through the fabric of his sweatshirt. you squeezed him slightly, desperate to get him as physically close to you as possible while mumbling, “thank you for coming here, i’m sorry i interrupted your violin practice.”

“hey now, you don't have to be sorry,” his voice was soft as he spoke, “besides, the instructor often wonders why i even show up because he thinks i’m a musical genius. when i told him i needed to go, he barely even let me finish my sentence and was practically pushing me out of the door.”

“well still, you didn't have to come at all. it's just me being a little ridiculous anyway,” you replied, finally pulling away from him and motioning for him to join you in snuggling down under your blankets.

he crawled into the bed beside you, allowing you to settle down into his side, your head resting gently on his shoulder as he pulled the thick comforter over the two of you. hao glanced down at you, parting his lips to speak, “emotions you feel are never ridiculous you know. you can talk about whatever it is you want and i will never judge you or think you're being silly.”

you nodded, hesitant to even say anything at all, so instead you just allowed your eyes to flutter shut, letting your words die in your throat so you didn't mess up and say the wrong thing.

hao was quick to notice, even though you felt you were hiding it pretty well. he brushed a strand of hair out of your face, concern evident in his expression as he said, “you don't have to be so brave with me. what’s on your mind?”

you shifted slightly, anxious to even think about beginning to tell him anything, but your mouth worked quicker than you mind, “it's just, throughout this whole breakup process, i think i’ve realized i have feelings for someone and it feels so soon but so right and i don't know what to do.”

“you're a human being, it's only natural you have feelings for people. besides, it's been months since your breakup and you're allowed to move on if you want to,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“i’m just scared it'll ruin everything,” you replied, averting your gaze from his to find interest in your chipping nail polish instead.

“well, if they're someone who truly cares about you, then they wouldn't let it ruin anything,” unbeknownst to you, he never looked away from you, “maybe you could tell them, the worst that could happen is that they say no.”

you sighed, “that's thing, i did just tell him.”

looking up, you caught the shocked expression of hao. the corners of your mouth twitched up ever so slightly, voice barely above a whisper as you said, “it's you, hao.”

the look on his face was incredibly difficult for you to read. you could feel panic beginning to settle in, knowing you had more than likely screwed everything up, and you couldn't help the tears that began to fall again. the only thing you could manage to say was “i’m sorry” in between your little cries, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as you could.

hao caught you off guard, pulling you back to him, hands cupping your face gently. he wiped the tears away with his thumbs, asking, “now why on earth are you sorry?”

“because i can tell you don't feel the same and that i just made everything so awkward,” you refused to make eye contact with him as you answered his question.

you heard a small chuckle slip past his lips, “y/n, you're not making anything awkward. i’m just surprised you return my feelings at all. why do you think i’ve always been so eager to spend time with you, even when i’m occupied with other things?”

now it was your turn to adorn a baffled look, jaw slightly agape as you processed his words. hao was the first to say something again, this time keeping your overall well-being in mind, “this doesn't have to move fast, it can be at whatever pace you want. it honestly could just not happen at all. tell me what you want and i’ll give it to you, i promise.”

“i-” you started, opening and closing your mouth like a fish out of water, desperate to find the right words. finally, you settled on, “let’s kiss and see where it takes us?”

you felt extremely shy asking, almost shrinking into yourself at such an absurd request, but hao wouldn't let you, because within mere seconds he was closing the distance between the two of you and molding his lips with yours. you gripped onto the front of his sweatshirt ever so slightly, eyes fluttering closed and the feeling of pure euphoria filling up every inch of your body.

you hadn't felt so seen or appreciated in a long time, and finally getting to kiss the boy you'd dreamed of for so long was almost surreal. you became putty in his hands, allowing him to pull you closer to his body, a string of kisses following suit.

you finally pulled away for air, your grin reflecting hao’s as you said, “i think i like where this is going.

“good,” he beamed, giving you another kiss in between his words, “because i do too.”

179 notes · View notes

falling-heights · 3 months

Text

Ascended Astarion/Tiefling!Tav Pt. 1

Summary: A few years after the event with the Elder Brain, Tav find her lover is not the same. She feels it's in her best interest to leave him, but does he feel the same?

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Notes: This is going to be a very angsty, very sad, and very dark story with multiple parts. I cannot imagine any sort of happy ending with Ascended Astarion, this is going to be reflected in my writing. I'm using the relationship my Tav had with him as a basis, so her appearance, class, and species will follow suit. Tav is a wizard.

Warnings: Astarion is not the sweet pea he used to be before his ascension, so fair warning, he'll be an absolute bastard. In this chapter, just expect angst and foreshadowing.

You thought by now the lurid amount of drinks you had stomached would have allowed for some reprieve in the troubled thoughts that had plagued you for weeks. There was an ample drone of chatter that filled the Elfsong this night, as patrons filled their tabs and relished in the drunken bliss that you could not share. You had come here to escape your worries, and only found yourself nibbling on the inside of your cheek.

It seemed there was no place where he left your mind, and now you were nothing more than a sad drunk lamenting over their own circumstance.

Your lover had the sweetest eyes, the most gentle smile.

Hair, softer than the clouds.

Teeth, whiter than the finest pearls.

And gods, that damned voice. It could make the heavens weep.

You were the luckiest girl alive to have such an exquisite creature and to call him yours. But, yet your gratefulness had been waning as of late, becoming entirely replaced with guilt. There was a strange kind of pain that followed when the images of your lover crossed your mind.

Your head throbbed at the mere thought of him. You could swear you felt the pain all the way to the tips of your horns.

How many nights had it been now, since you had seen his real smile? Weeks, surely, months, even. What graced your lovers lips was nothing more than a plastered copy, so perfect it belonged on a sculpture. It was perfect, and though you had always seen him as perfect, there was a strange artificiality to it, something procured from years of practice. And his eyes, well, they were never as kind anymore. You knew why the sight of him, or even the mere thought, caused this dull ache, though you only recently understood it.

It was grief, over something that no longer existed. Mourning for some kind of spiritual death. Though death had not truly claimed him, it was clear that he was not the man you loved. You mourned the ghost that still haunted you. What remained was just the mask he had so dearly clung to before becoming infected with the tadpole, like you, and the rest of your dear companions.

It was strange, you thought, to think you were happier when the risk of dying or becoming an Illithid weighed heavily each day. And to think now you would do near anything to go back to that time. To when your lover smiled as though it were more than just a lure to keep you trapped.

"You have not spoken much this night, she'lak," Lae'zel's imposing voice broke whatever conversation was being held at your table. Shadowheart and Wyll went silent upon her interruption, turning their attention to you as you took another drink from your pint that had gone flat by now. You twinged a brief smile at the nickname she had given you since you had met the gith. 'Do-gooder,' it meant; you still weren't quite sure whether or not it was meant in an endearing way. "Perhaps your drinking is getting to you."

"I still have a ways to go," You reassured her, trying to make your voice sound clear. It wasn't often that Lae'zel found enough time from her battle against Vlaakith to leave the astral plane and return to Baldur's Gate, but tonight was a rare exception. You felt guilty for not being able to enjoy her company to the full extent, but you couldn't help allowing the negativity to follow you even now, in the presence of your dearest friends and allies.

With few exceptions, it had been a vital effort on most people's part to remain in contact after the Elder Brain's defeat. Gale wrote to nearly everyone when he could not leave his tower in Waterdeep, and Karlach-- well, everyone knew Karlach's options. With much convincing, and with little time left, she had finally agreed to return to the House of Hope. Although it did not bring anyone any sort of joy in forcing the decision upon her, at the very least, she would not need to fight in the Blood War, and could regain a tiny sense of normality and peace with Hope.

Being the most adept in magical studies, you and Gale both had begun to research any possible way to free her of her insidious engine. That being a loophole or something to replace it entirely. Because of this, Gale wrote to you more often than anyone else. You missed him, disappointed he was held up again. He and his letters were one of the few comforts that you still found in your suffocating home. Rolan usually filled the spot for Gale physically, and you found comfort in the extensive library of Sorcerous Sundries.

You dreaded going back home tonight. That gods-awful palace that once imprisoned your very spouse, was now reclaimed in some sick kind of inheritance. Its very walls felt like a cold tomb; nothing could heal it of the suffering that had taken place for centuries. You were quite certain that no matter how drunk you became, you would never find joy within those staggering walls. You felt like a rabid animal, clawing at the walls of its enclosure whenever you entered there. Wholly trapped and subject to its masters whims. As though reading your mind, Shadowheart was the next one to speak.

"How has Astarion been faring?" Your eyes remain glued to the center of the table for a moment. He hadn't given anyone present the pleasure of his presence for a long time now. Though they would never be given a reason, you felt they each knew why.

Astarion had become something else entirely after entering Cazador's dungeon. That was truly the turning point, you mused bitterly. Those lives lost, thousands: men, women, children, all victims in the end. All regarded as little more than the price for true Ascension. And worse yet, you helped him. Thinking he could be anything better than his master. What a naive little wretch you were. Allowing thousands to die just so you could help make another monster. You think the alcohol was finally playing its part because your next words were some you had never thought you would say.

"I'm leaving him," You say it so forwardly, as though it were easy, as though you had been thinking it over for an eternity now, eyes still glued to the table, memorizing each groove and grain in the maple-stained wood. "I don't quite recognize who he is anymore."

It was strange, really. Your relationship was founded on deceit, him using you for protection, and finding sincerity along the way. But at one point, it was something real. It had once meant something to the both of you. To you, it still lingered. To your other half, you weren't certain anymore. You hadn't been for an agonizingly long time. Now, you hadn't been able to see yourself as anything more than a prized pet. A singular piece of gold that lay discarded amid the rest of his stashed wealth. Something to polish and hoard, but never to be spent. Perhaps a year ago, you would have burned the world down just to make him happy, but now, now you weren't even sure he still valued you as anything more than a means to survive. Silly, how it all devolved to the singular thing that began all of it. The singular thing that was never real.

"Your decision is wise," Lae'zel replies just as bluntly, taking a drink from her mug. You turn to read her face, and only find strong integrity within her eyes. She was confident in the assertion. There was never an air of uncertainty about Lae'zel. It was something you deeply admired about the woman. "Only a dog would waste it's time with table scraps. You would better spend your time finding a new meal than trying to lick up the crumbs of an old one."

"What I think Lae'zel means," Wyll clears his throat, trying to make Lae'zel's metaphor less crude. "Astarion is a changed man. If you have truly lost that connection, then you need to act in the best interest of your own happiness."

"K'chakhi, is that not what I said?"

You weighed both of their words for the rest of the night. You felt somewhat comforted, but it would do little beyond the moment in which it was allowed. Eventually, you began to depart, saying farewells until the next time you could see each other. It would be weeks until then.

"I know it's not much, but if you need a bed and a warm fire, you are always in the Ravengard Hall," Wyll placed a hand on your shoulder, smiling warmly as you stood underneath the sign to the Elfsong.

"Thank you, Wyll," You weren't really sure what else to say. You weren't even sure how to approach the matter to Astarion, or whether you had the resolution to go through with your claim of leaving him for good. The man lingered for only a moment longer before departing down the narrow streets of the sleeping city.

Lae'zel stepped in front of you after his departure, staring intensely into your eyes. It was hard to discern her emotions, everything about the gith was intense. You suppose that included her loyalty and support to her comrades.

"You are many thinks, she'lak," She spoke assertively, almost accusatively. Her shoulders were rolled back, and her stature oozed confidence and command, yet her golden eyes were soft as they bore into you. "But you are no dog, and you are no fool. Do not waste yourself with worthless scraps."

She did not wait for your response, simply flashing a tiny smirk at you before leaving the warm glow of the Elfsong behind. You listened to the rattling of her armor as she grew more and more distant.

"It's a shame," Shadowheart added once the other two had left, looking to you sympathetically. She put your hand between hers gently. "To see what he's become. I understand your pain. All of us do to an extent, seeing the perspective of something important to us change into something else entirely."

You realized the truth to her words. There was solidarity amongst your companions in that regard. Still, this was your problem, and there was only so much comfort they could offer. "Thank you, I-"

She cut you off before you could say anything else.

"Come to me for anything if you need my help," Her eyes were suddenly resolute, darkened by the furrow of her brow. Her grip on your hand tightened soundly, sealing the seriousness of her words. "I will not tolerate it if he harms you, in any way."

She pulled you in for a hug, wishing to see you again soon, and left you to think over her words. You understood the concern, but you were uncertain on how grounded they were within reason. Astarion had been cold, but you hadn't even considered how he might react to you leaving. You had only hoped he would only care as much as he cared about anything else lately: not at all. Her words made you uneasy though.

The draft from the chilly night air distracted you from your thoughts, reminding you that you still needed to make the trek home. With much trepidation, you adjusted your cloak, pulling the hood over your head, and began the long walk back. At the very least it would give you time to find your words.

Extra Notes: y'all i have like 600 hours of bg3 under my belt, and Astarion has been my ride or die the whole time. I was definitely not comfortable writing about him until I felt like I knew his character and his dynamics, so I am doing my best to make this realistic to him.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 companions #yandere #yandere astarion #yandere bg3 #yandere baldur's gate 3 #no use of y/n #lae'zel #shadowheart #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #bg3 rolan

100 notes · View notes

mangoguy · 3 months

Text

Displacement (2/2)

John "Soap" MacTavish('09) x Reader x John "Soap" MacTavish('22)

Warnings: Mentions of character death (Ghost and Roach), no y/n used, no pronouns other than they/them used a few of times.

You can't help but find it difficult to get used to your new surroundings.

It's finally here!!! I meant for this to be out a week after the first part, but school got busy lmao

Read the first part here

There are a few things you have noticed after being thrown in here.

One, the year is 2023.

Two, You are married to John (or Johnny as he likes being called) in this timeline.

And three, you don’t work in the military, you are no longer with Task Force 141.

That third one hit particularly hard. Your task force was a huge part of your life along with John.

You faked memory loss, thinking it was a smart move for now. You doubted they would even believe you if you started spouting that you were not from here. Even to you, that sounded crazy.

‘Because it is…’ you thought bitterly.

This universe wasn't in World War III, you weren't complaining though, that was the mission after all. You still had a hard time adjusting, especially with him around, Johnny. The man who wears your husband's face. Well, you guessed you're even… since technically you were wearing his wife's face? That's how you saw it anyway.

He was worried about you, often asking if you were okay. You could never really answer him, just stare and nod. You felt so foreign here, out of place, and you missed John so much it made you ill. You wondered what happened to him? Was he okay? Something told you he wasn’t. With where your mind was going this was going to be a long hospital stay…

It's been two months since you've woken up. Your mind convinced you it was some weird coma dream.

‘People have those, don't they?’ You thought, staring out the living room window. You felt silly mourning the loss of some older version of yourself and Johnny. It was morbid of your brain to think of how Ghost would die, or mourn the loss of two others you ‘barely knew.’ You found it funny how Price looked in your dream, older, a little unhinged. Gaz was what scared you the most in terms of dream Gaz, you didn't want to think about it.

You met them briefly, Task Force 141, Johnny's teammates, and friends. They all seemed very concerned about you, maybe even a little guilty like they caused the accident. You assured them you were fine and mentioned that the doctors said you were healing quite nicely.

“Aye, but they… have memory loss, can't remember a damn thing… the doctor said it looks severe,” Johnny spoke in a hushed whisper when you went off to fetch something.

“They can't remember anything?” Kyle spoke.

“Yeah, and I'm talkin’ like their whole life, it's like they're a new person… Can't even remember our weddin’ day, our first meetin’, or… anythin’” Johnny could feel his heartbreak just speaking it out loud. A painful reminder of what happened, he thought maybe someone was punishing him. Probably was, for the things he's done. He gave a deep sigh, as Kyle gave him a reassuring pat on the back. Price and Simon both frowned, giving the Scot a sympathetic look, that's when you decided to enter the room again.

“Bonnie yer… are ye okay? Ye've been starin’ out the window for a while…” you heard Johnny speak softly. You turned to look at him, nodding your head softly.

“Yeah sorry, just… I guess I'm reminiscing on some weird dream I had while in that coma,” you admitted.

“Hm? Dream ye say? Do ye want tae talk about it?” John sat near you on the couch and pulled you into his arms. It was comforting being in his embrace.

“Hm, not much to say other than… I guess I just dreamt of a whole other life for us? You were there, though you were a bit older… definitely more handsome in my dream,” you gave him a cheeky grin.

“Looks like I've got some competition,” he paused to chuckle softly. “But older you say? Were ye dreaming of tae future or somethin’?” Johnny asked.

“Hm, you could say that… though there are differences in dream John and you in real life.”

“Aye… and what's that?”

“Well for one he was a bit taller than you,” you snickered.

“Aye!”

“And well he didn't have an arm tattoo, like you do he had one on his neck, a revolver,” you paused to think, your mind was getting a little muddy on details.

“Oh! And your scars are different, that's all I seem to remember at the moment...” you finished. Johnny was silent for a moment, absorbing this new information. It was nice hearing you talk again, even if it was about this mysterious other version of himself.

“Damn, sounds like one handsome bastard…”

“Johnny…”

“What I'm bein’ serious,” he muses.

Something weird was going on, you couldn't place your finger on it. It all started with a pair of jeans. What scared you was that you vaguely recalled wearing them somewhere. You placed them down on the floor and stared at them.

‘Of course, I wore them somewhere they're pants…’ You thought, thinking it was silly you were worried about jeans. You shook your head, grabbing them off the floor but that's when something slipped out from the pocket. One fell with a hard thunk and the other fluttered to the ground. You pick them both up. One was a simple wedding band on it was an engraving, two sets of dates

xx-xx-‘07

xx-xx-‘09

The other item made your heart drop in your stomach. Time seemed to stop as familiar sets of eyes were on you. John Price, Ghost, John “Soap” MacTavish, you. In the corner of the photo were the words ‘OP Kingfish.’

This was it.

The evidence that your ‘coma dream’ wasn't a dream after all. How could you think it was a dream? How dare this world make you think your John was a dream, your world. You assumed it was the universe trying to make you ‘fit in,’ but that begs the question, how did your stuff get here? You shoved the ring and photo in your pocket as you heard Johnny walking over to where you were.

“Hey Bonnie, are you almost done gettin’ ready? Simon texted saying he was at the bar already,” Johnny watched you as you put the jeans back in the closet.

“Yeah I'm ready, can't keep the man waiting,” you smiled though it didn't reach your eyes.

While watching Ghost and Johnny converse you felt the ring and photo through your pocket for the tenth time. You worried they would disappear and yet they never did. You stood up from your seat, getting the attention of the two men at the table.

“Just heading to the bathroom,” you spoke, walking towards the small hallway that housed the restrooms. You entered, taking a quick breather, your emotions were everywhere tonight. It was starting to annoy you, if you were being honest all you wanted was to just relax and enjoy the evening…

Even it felt fake.

Doing your business and leaving the bathroom, you noticed Johnny had a conflicting look. But when you approached he smiled at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you sat down.

“Everything okay?” You asked and he nodded, though you noticed it was stiff.

You ended up drinking, not a lot but enough to get a bit tipsy. You barely remember the car ride home, though here you are, in bed and snuggled into the blankets. You were reaching out towards Johnny’s spot but found he was not on his side of the bed. It’s cold, meaning he was gone for a while. You slowly sat up, groaning from a slight headache. You called out for him but didn’t hear an answer. You got out of bed and walked towards the living room, spotting him sitting on the couch with the table lamp on. He was staring at something, upon closer look it was the photo, your photo with your team. Your John.

You blinked once, then twice.

When did he get that?

Shit.

“What are you doing with that?” You asked, slightly on the defence.

“What am I doin’ with it? What are ye doing with this? What am I even lookin’ at?” He asked, looking over at you his expression inconceivable.

“It's… complicated Johnny, you probably wouldn't understand.”

He went quiet after that, rubbing his face in frustration, he then stared at the photo again. You needed to figure out where to go from here. You bit the inside of your cheek in thought.

“So, are ye from the future or somethin? Because that's what it looks like… we all look older in this photo… Plus why the hell are you in this photo anyway?” Johnny spoke up finally after a long silence.

“No… it's complicated…”

“Then enlighten me!” You could hear him getting frustrated.

“Fine… I'm… not from here, I don't know how to explain it! One moment I was someplace else then the next thing I know I'm here, in Scotland… In a hospital with someone who looks like my husband but isn't!” you didn't mean to sound so harsh, but all your feelings were bursting out.

“But I am yer husband, didn't you tell me ye were dreamin’ while in that coma?” Johnny tried reasoning.

“I lied, at first I thought maybe it was all a dream but how do you explain the photo and this? I know for a fact I wasn't dreaming I had a completely different life,” You pulled out the ring, showing him the engraved dates.

He stared at the ring, at the dates that were engraved then at the photo. He seemed a bit distant, thinking, processing.

“Is that why whenever I look at ye… It feels like I've lost someone… lost my Bonnie,” Johnny lamented. You were caught off guard by that. But you couldn't deny that you also felt a huge loss whenever you thought of John. The two of you stayed silent, grieving but didn't want to think about why. You refused to think your John didn't survive that explosion.

“I… guess you could say I'm from an alternate universe, god… that's even more confusing but makes the most sense” you decided to change the subject. Johnny finally looked up at you, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Aye… that sounds crazy… maybe-” he didn't finish his sentence but you knew he was probably still trying to find a reasonable answer. You couldn't blame him and this is exactly the reason you didn't bring it up. You decided to take a different approach.

“That photo was taken on a joint mission with Task Force 141 and Delta force, we were going after this guy named Vladimir Makarov, Intel claimed he was in this facility in Ukraine but he wasn't and it ended up being a trap… That's when John or my Soap, I guess I should say, got injured and Price was captured,” you explained. You were starting to sweat a bit, speaking that mission out loud sounded insane. It sure did catch Johnny's attention though. A dark look crossed his face at the mention of Vladimir Makarov but it quickly faded.

“Huh…” was all Johnny managed to get out, it was a hell of a story. You could tell he needed more convincing.

“Well, one person in that photograph isn't alive… Ghost, along with another member Roach were shot by a man named Shepherd…” Your eyebrows furrowed and you frowned deeply.

“Betrayed by him and his shadow company…” you seethed. That seemed to make Johnny perk up. From the looks of it, that story of yours seemed to hit a little too close to home. He gave you a thoughtful look albeit a concerned look.

“Well, shite… that just all but confirms your theory… But the question remains why are ye here? And how come yer body in yer time stayed there?”

“I don't know… it's not like I have the answers. I was literally on a mission to assassinate Makarov but then an explosion went off behind us and I ended up in that hospital.” You explained.

“Ye know… that sounds similar to what happened to my spouse, well they didn't work in the military but there was an accident that involved both me and them, they ended up taking most of the damage which is why they put you in a coma… but you already knew that,” he mumbled that last part.

“I wonder if that's related… but that still doesn't explain why I'm here…” You crossed your arms, sitting opposite from him on the couch. You stared at your reflection on the TV for a moment, observing your new skin, you often didn't look at yourself for too long. You found it troublesome and dare you say uncanny.

This whole situation was confusing, but you found some comfort now that Johnny knew and seemed to believe you. You did grow fond of him over the couple of months you've been here. It was slow, sure, unfairly comparing him to your John but you quickly came to realize that although they might share the same name and hair- they were different. That also made you realize something else though, something unpleasant.

"Johnny… I understand if you want me to leave, I am technically wearing your spouse's face..." you suddenly spoke. Johnny turned to look at you with a bewildered look on his face, silently asking if you were for real.

“That's a way to put it…” he mumbled with a long pause before speaking again, "...But I don't want you to leave."

"...Why?" It was your turn to be bewildered now.

"Well, is it bad I still want to be with ye? I know you aren't the version of my Bonnie I married but... you're still you whether you're fighting in the big fight or here making the house a home... I loved you in both timelines,” he suddenly proclaimed, bringing a hand over to caress your cheek. There was hope that maybe this could work.

That couldn't be a bad idea.

The universe brought the two of you together for a reason.

Words: 2,337

#call of duty #cod mw2 #modern warfare 2 #john soap mctavish x reader #johnsoapmactavish #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap mactavish #cod x you #cod x reader #john soap mctavish x you #john soap x reader #Guy.Writes #x reader

49 notes · View notes

amaritious · 9 months

Text

Gn! Readers reaction to Matpat's death + resurrection (beware)

He IS the skrunkly. I want him, I need him.

Happiness, death, sadness and then happiness again.

Mat is a malewife.

Relationship isn't necessarily described but Matpat and Reader are close, implied romantic if you squint.

To the deliver best service, I did headcanons and some small oneshots (even though I'm better at headcanons)

However, my service is extremely late. Sorry @tzurue.

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

His Death HEADCANONS

Coming into whatever this twisted game Joey had pushed you in, you expected Matpat to come in top.

Matpat was strong, intelligent and a people pleaser (in a good way).

But it wasn't enough.

What went wrong? You asked yourself over and over again. The question never leaving your already scattered brain.

He wasn't strong enough.

The rest knew they fucked up, they didn't know. They realised what they had done when your cheerful personality had completely shattered, leaving only fragments of it behind. They were like little children, experimenting with danger like a toy, unknown to what came ahead. It was too much.

Witnessing his death, it changed something in you.

The desperate cries for help, the pained yet panicked look in his eyes, the "I want to go home" body language and the sorrowful cries of your name...

He was being dragged away before your very eyes and you wanted to reach out, help him or grab him and mourn.

But there was nothing you could do.

And you were useless yet again.

His Resurrection ONESHOT

You sat there, devoid of thoughts yet it seemed as if millions muffled voices marched into your mind. You didn't register your friends' worried comments, you couldn't anyways. You didn't know if you could even call them your friends. They killed him, they knew he would die. You carried on mumbling, looking, glancing, searching - just any sign he was there, you would accept anything. Ro gave you his badge, knowing that you felt even worse than her but it just heightened your concerns. What would you do?

Then next thing you knew, you were getting chased by crazy doll twins, torturing dolls, connecting dolls, you see the pattern here.

You couldn't care anymore. Maybe. You don't know. And that was until Joey found the much needed Lazarus coin. You gaped at it studying every crevice carefully. This was Mat's dying wish.

Was it worth it? Yes. The man had dedicated precious time to finding this seemingly precious coin, awaiting its use.

Now flash forward to when Joey and Safiya get to choose who can live even an hour longer. You don't really care how selfish it may be but surely there's one right answer. And if they don't bring that person back you might as well pull a Colleen, call Joey shady and get them to kill you. That would be best.

You're not sure what facial expressions you're pulling because you see everyone look strangely confused at you. But it doesn't really matter because no matter how much you don't want to, you're pacing around the lounge while they attempt to solve some puzzle.

This is why we need Mat, you think with your head in a hand.

You've already been tricked by some boring suitcase so when your 'friends' begin to yell in the direction of the doorway, you only just lazily looked up.

And there was that son of a bitch.

Mathew Patrick.

"Mat? Holy I- Oh. My. God."

You run the few steps and trap him into a bone crushing hug. He wearingly hugs you back, obviously dishevelled.

"I can't believe you died on me," you begin, acting like you weren't just having a silent panic attack over it "here, take a seat. you deserve it."

You turn to Joey and Safiya, "Joey, everything I thought about you is very wrong. Safiya, you're beautiful and you're amazing I love you guys."

Not bothering with their reactions, you plop down next to Mat and gently rub his arm.

"I missed you," you state, looking into his eyes.

Despite his distressed state, he replies with "Right back at ya."

You proceed to hug the life out of him (pun intended).

#etn x reader #etn s3 #etn #escape the night #escape the night x reader #etn season 3 #matpat #mathew patrick #matthew patrick #idk which spelling #idk what im doing #im tired #the detective #lovejoy got me through this #i'm very late to this request #why is it so easy tagging on ao3 but not tumblr

99 notes · View notes

random-letters-i-just-thought-of · 10 months

Text

Clones mourning the Jedi

Ok, so, bear with me, my brain is constantly making up scenarios that I want to happen in Bad Batch Season 3. Most of the time I don't do anything with them, but this one today was especially emotional, so I just can't keep it to myself. Even though it doesn't fit into the story at all and is probably also very out of character. So… I need the connection between the clones and the Jedi to be appreciated, right? So my brain was like: How about we have the clones collectively, in their little community that they built, (which will also totally happen, right? I mean… clone rebellion?!?…please?!!), mourn the Jedi? And I was just: Umm… I don't think… And my brain went: Shut up, I've already made up a whole fucking ceremony and the precise camera angles and shots it will be shown in. So anyway, it starts with the Bad Batch needing Rex's help for a mission or something, so they go to him, and Rex is like: "Sure, but not today." So Hunter asks why, and he just says: "It's Empire Day." No missions till tomorrow morning." "Why? You're celebrating?", Wrecker asks jokingly. Rex huffs and flashes a sad little smile: "We're mourning."

Empire Day would be roughly the day Order 66 happened, right? I mean, I have no idea how space time works so I just assume that. So anyway, they go inside and meet all the other clones from Rex's little Network who sit together, talk and laugh, and many of them, most of them, are doing some sort of pottery. Echo is also there (which doesn't make sense because at this point he would have been back with the Bad batch already, but honestly, I don't care when this happens. Could also be way earlier. Actually, that would maybe be even better, so we can have Tech and Omega on board as well) so after some big hellos, of course the Bad Batch asks what's going on with this pottery stuff. Rex has excused himself at this point, but Echo shows them they're making little bowls and explains that it is part of the ceremony to honor the Jedi. At this point, it becomes a bit awkward for the Bad Batch since they never had such a connection to the Jedi and also experienced order 66 differently. But it gets better when Wrecker asks if he can make one for the little Padawan (Caleb), even though he hopes he survived. Just to remind of him. And Echo beams and says "sure" and shows them the bowl he's making for Ahsoka. He started it, still thinking she died during Order 66, but then Rex found out, teared up, and told him everything. He still makes her a bowl. To remember her. Because wherever she is now, even though she survived, the sassy, lighthearted, funny little commander he knew is definitely dead. So the Bad batch mixes with the other Clones. Wrecker makes his little bowl; maybe Hunter and Omega (if she's there) make one for Shaak Ti and Tech (if he's there) helps with the technical preparations for the ceremony and makes some valuable improvements. (Um, yeah, I have no Ideas for Crosshair. I'm open for suggestions! As said, not following any continuity/timeline here.) In the evening, everything is ready for the ceremony. It goes this way: Everyone who wants to has made a bowl for a specific Jedi, or several bowls for several Jedi, one bowl for multiple Jedi at once, or just one for all of them or no one in particular. They fill the bowls with a special material that will create a colorful flame when burned. Normally, they choose the color of their Jedi's lightsaber.

So for the ceremony, one after another lights up their lanterns, takes them to the little shrine or altar they built, says the name(s) of the one(s) they want to honor/remember maybe adds a little prayer if they feel like it, and then returns to the group to watch the flames leaping up to the sky. A colorful, beautiful mess, so bright, so hopeful, just like the Jedi were. Many bring blue ones for Shaak Ti, their beloved guardian on Kamino, who was killed by the ones she protected and watched over so lovingly. I'm thinking some of the Ryloth clones, the ones from Howzer's squad, maybe served under Mace Windu before they were stationed on Ryloth after the battle, so we get a few beautiful, strong purple flames. Wollfe brings one for Plo Koon, and his hands, ever shaking, now that his mind is no longer trustworthy, are steady when he sets down the bowl. His eyes, that are now mostly clouded by thoughts he can't voice, are clear for once as he remembers the brave man he fought side by side with, that he knows died wrongly even though his mind, corrupted by the chip for far too long, won't let him believe it. Cody's Hands (of course Cody is there, why wouldn't he be?) on the other hand are shaking as he brings forth the bowl he made for his general. It's not the only one for him on their little shrine, but it is probably by far the brightest and the most detailed. "Obi Wan Kenobi", he says, his voice is not shaking, but it's oh so quiet. He swallows hard and thinks for a moment before he adds: "Wherever you are right now… be safe. I miss you. I'm so sorry, love." And he wants to say so much more, but he doesn't know how, and now it's too late anyway. Echo's lantern for Ahsoka burns bright in the yellowish green he remembers, so fresh, so young, and so free. Rex is the last one to set down his lantern. "Anakin Skywalker", he says, making sure to place it right in the middle of the shrine, next to the bright blue flame that is Cody's lantern for Obi Wan and in front of the green one that is Ahsoka's. His voice does not shake, his steps do not falter, as he walks back to the group and turns around to watch the lights. (We see Hunter shooting Rex a quick, slightly worried, slightly curious glance because he's still convinced Anakin and Rex had something going on after that very suspicious scene in season 7.) We see the Bad Batch exchanging glances because they kind of feel like intruders. Because they suddenly feel grief over something they never even really knew. But then again, did any of them? We see Omega holding on to Hunter, deeply moved but not completely understanding why or what this is all about. We have a wide shot of all the clones standing in front of the lights, watching them with varying stages of grief. Some of them look deeply hurt; some of them smile sadly or even relieved as they watch the bright light resembling their friends, their mentors, their comrades, their idols. Only a very few of them are crying. Because even after all that's happened, they're still so strong. So used to the losses. Most of them watch the lights and gain strength. Grow a determined look on their face. They're going to make up for this. If there's one thing they can do, it's fight, so you bet that's what they're going to do. Cut to Rex staring into the flames and putting on his brave face for his brothers. His strong face as the leader. The determined face that makes it so easy, natural to follow him. He stares into the lights and knows this is his fight, the role he plays, the task he is set to fulfill. He is setting himself to fulfill. Their destiny is in their own hands now. And they're going to use it to make the galaxy the Jedi couldn't. It's what they owe them. And, most importantly, it's what they want to do, too. They were made to protect the galaxy, and damn well, they will. Because the Jedi gave them hope. Showed them that it can be different. Taught them to believe in themselves. In the human in every single one of them.

Cut to the Lanterns burning on the table, the colorful dancing flames, and it slowly zooms in on the bright blue flames of Anakin and Obi Wan burning next to each other.

But it doesn't stop there. It continues zooming in on Anakin's flame. And slowly, through the flickering light of Anakin's flame, we catch our first glimpse of Darth Vader. I'm thinking a Kenobi-like reveal. With dramatically swelling music and then just…breathing.

And then the screen goes black, bam episode over, bam Vader is the villain of Bad Batch now.

I know none of this makes sense, but it made me emotional, so….

Anyway if somebody else is having feels now, go listen to "Goodbye" by Ramsey, it's the song that was stuck in my head while writing this and it makes everything 100 times sadder :).

70 notes · View notes

lloydfrontera · 4 months

Note

Oh that og lloyd returns and suho goes through the reincarnation gate ask and answer were incredible. I'm usually like happy ending and would have said that what if javier does the same where he goes to verkis and try to get suho lloyd and does bring him, because i can't imagine suho lloyd staying in seoul alone or worst, but then would it have a happy ending? with him there with og lloyd, he'll also have mixed feelings because it's not the og lloyd he talked at the train or its the same buy forgot their conversation

let's not forget the before suho lloyd comes back and weeks passed by already lorasia, the people of the county, the engineers, the white calvary, alicia, solitas, cordius, orcs, elf, sees og lloyd act and well this is not the person the person that they allied and spent time with

I sincerely agree with this "all in all. not a good time for anyone! which i think fucks i love this scenario it really woke up the brain worms <3"

about this

it's such a fun au because it makes everything immediately worse <3

i also tend to like happy endings more than anything else but i do admit i like putting my blorbos in situations even more salkdjsfds

and yeah javier definitely went looking for lloyd in this au too. probably even sooner than he did in canon lol. cause at least in canon he was certain that lloyd had just been reborn, he thought that he was lost to him forever, that the best he could get was to know if he was happy in his next life. in this version he wouldn't be so sure. after all lloyd crossed the gate and now og lloyd is back. so clearly the reincarnation gate doesn't work as straightforwardly as one might first have assumed.

i think the moment he snapped out of his "should i just throw him back" moment and the guilt over his momentary lapse of control passed he would've gone straight to the jewel of truth and asked what happened to lloyd. and then gone bother one of the most powerful beings in the universe into opening a portal to his bf.

fuck the consequences he wants his lloyd back goddammit

this would simultaneously make everything better and also worse.

better because at least now lloyd isn't, y'know, dead and so everyone who cares for him in whatever shape or form isn't mourning him. arcos and marbella would especially be overjoyed, because now they have all of their children together, they're all okay, they're all safe and this time it will probably stick. julian,,, would be conflicted because he now has to deal with the fact the brother he thought he knew had been lying to him for years and (non-maliciously as it might have been) tricked him into forgiving the person who made his life hell almost his entire life and now there's no handy grief to make it easy to overlook all of that. but i do think he would be very, very happy his hyung he loves and admires so much is alive and safe and now they can get to know each other for real.

worse because now lloyd isn't dead and og lloyd gets to see just how much everyone loves him. just how much respect and affection he earned, how much he achieved, how loved he became in just five years compared to what og lloyd did in his entire life. and man would that suck for the guy. like. genuinely would be a terrible thing to go through. but again. i don't think he would do anything about it. like. he wouldn't see the point. he'd be angry, he'd throw some epic tantrums but i don't think he would put in the effort to change his behavior.

in canon og lloyd achieved some kind of resignation and peace with his situation because he saw first hand the kind of stuff lloyd did, he followed him around, he saw how much effort he put in, the kind of things he went through... it's hard to deny someone has earned something when you see them put their sweat blood and tears into it.

in this au, this og lloyd doesn't get that. as far as he knows he passed out one night and then woke up five-ish years later to find that no only did some fucker walk around in his body for all that time but everyone that he knows is mourning the man. the fucking guy who stole his body. like. yeah i would kind of also be pissed i'm not gonna lie.

he doesn't know how bad things got, how hard it was to save the estate, hell, the entire country, he'd only see all the results and none of the struggles. he wouldn't get why people, his family especially, are so happy to have him back. and he'd get very angry about i think.

and to be fair his anger would be mostly outrage at lloyd stealing his body (unintentionally but still), jealousy and some genuinely hurt feelings. i do think he'd be understandably hurt that his family is apparently more concerned about the guy that impersonated him than for him who was gone for years (*cough* even if i do think he kind of earned it *cough*)

as for lloyd,,, yeah no this is not an ideal situation for him either. he'd be over the moon at being able to come back, don't get me wrong, that part wouldn't change, but to come face to face with the guy he accidentally replaced, whose family he kind of took as his, and who doesn't remember the conversation and tentative truce they came to in hell,,, definitely not how he hoped this would go.

i don't know if he would actually feel very guilty cause like. well at least the guy is alive now. and he's no longer doomed to a self-caused premature death. and he gets to live in a debt-free estate that's been turned into the most powerful territory of the whole continent. so like. he thinks og lloyd got a pretty good deal out of it. yeah losing five years sucks but he would've died a couple years ago anyway.

i do think he'd feel very awkward about calling arcos and marbella 'father' and 'mother' like he wanted to. if he already felt awkward in canon it would be even worse in this au with og lloyd glaring at him from a corner any time their parents so much at smile at him. i don't think it would stop him completely, but he'd definitely tone it down when they're all together.

ooff yeah, it's one thing in canon when lloyd just goes away and then comes back with a new face. here they would actually have to deal with the original guy and like. he sucks </3

i do wish we had more info about how much of the situation is public knowledge. we know a couple people know about the whole kim suho thing once he comes back but i don't know how much the fronteras would've told anyone about it beforehand. my guess would be nothing, because honestly it was none of their business lol but i guess in this au they would have to offer some kind of explanation. either they tell the truth or they pretend og lloyd has amnesia and that's why he's different of the way people expect him to be. either way i think it would be a very hard sell in either scenario. funny enough i think the lie is actually more believable in this case lol

again. not a great situation for anyone involved! which i think it's fantastic! maybe not to them but to me <3 which is the most important thing here <33

#hey i got an ask #Anonymous #tged #the greatest estate developer #lloyd frontera #javier asrahan #arcos frontera #marbella frontera #julian frontera #og lloyd frontera #i should give this au a name but. can't think right now.#come back right au

22 notes · View notes

marsgalaxias · 8 months

Text

if you like friends to lovers yearning here's a little writing piece I did

'I frequently have such vivid, realistic dreams where my brain throws together what I call a perfect little mind salad. The perfect person. Someone caring, gentle, funny, soft, sweet. When I wake up, there’s this terrible, terrible feeling in my chest. That perfect person is torn from me, and I’m left with the bitter reality that no, no one has loved me like that. I spend all day reflecting and mourning that dream, that person. What hurts the most is the fact that I cannot see their face after I wake up, I can barely recall it once I stir. And so I mourned for someone I never knew, who never lived.

Last night felt like one of those dreams. So perfect that I was scared that as soon as I left the moment, I would never return. I’d wake up in my bed and realize that no, they did not exist, and I was truly losing my mind. But I woke up today and I went to school, and there they were, in the flesh. For once there was no need for a funeral.

I don’t typically connect well with people. I’m able to get an instant sense when I’ve run into someone who I know I will get along with. It was like that with them, that intuitive feeling that this stranger who I tracked down on the internet would be important. I just wanted to acquaint myself with people who would be in my class, and they happened to be one of the first I stumbled upon.

Even more rarely do I feel that I am completely alone with someone. Very rarely do I block out everything else but the person I’m with. But with them, that’s exactly what happened. Nothing existed outside of the now, in those moments. I can still recall the fine details, the way their messy hair flipped about in the wind, the green boxed flannel they wore, the rings on their hands as they gripped the steering wheel, the soup they ordered from panera, what songs they softly played in the background.

I will be honest, I was not picturing a small bridge when I imagined what we would get up to that day, rather a dock. However, that's still eerily similar. How it lined up so perfectly. I shot a few polaroids, and then I sat back and we chatted. But there was still so much distance between us. I hate it, the way I’m so eager for their presence. So I laid down, knowing it was only natural for them to follow. Slowly, as the sun sank further, we grew closer. I have never had the chance to meet someone so genuine, honest, open. From a foot apart, to shoulder to shoulder, my legs eventually bent up and resting against theirs, absentmindedly fiddling with their hands while they felt mine. By the time we had to leave, I found our faces only inches apart. And they curved a hand around my cheek, holding me like I was paper, like I was too delicate to truly grasp, lest they harm me, but they had to keep me from blowing into the breeze.

It was too early for a kiss, and I think we both knew that, but I think we both dearly craved for our flesh to connect. Their thumb brushed my lips, the closest they could get to them now. When we finally pried ourselves from the wooden boards, I clung to them. They clung to me. I was so scared to let go, to let this energy go. I was scared to wake up.

I’ve rewound the film in my head, over and over. I played it while I muttered my choir lyrics, while my English teacher droned on, while my friend babbled about some dumb assignment. I’ve found myself reaching my hand up to my face, to re-feel what they felt, because I am too scared to love them like that openly. I wish I wasn’t, but I’m so scared. Scared that I’m wrong, that they don't actually care that much, that I’m being tugged along by someone who will discard me in the end, because words seem to mean shit to anyone else. Time after time of being left by people who I would have died for, I’m so scared to go through that all again. To plan more funerals.

I’m so deep into this already. I’ve lost my appetite. I’ve lost sleep. I’ve lost focus. I have been infatuated with people before, but it’s never been this bad. I wonder how they would feel, knowing all that I’m going through because on that bridge I refused to sit how friends sit.

“And I know you’re scared, well I’m scared too, but everytime I try to make lunch for someone else, in my head I end up dreaming of you. And you come to me, good morning,” you sang as I weaved my hand through the wind out the window. You’d sworn that the chorus was good, to be patient, and apologized if it was a song I disliked. Now I sit here and I play it on loop, because as I write, the film is becoming blurry. I’m scared I’m waking up like I thought I would. And you’re off playing with your friends, and I know I shouldn’t panic, I know I shouldn’t rotate around you, but I can’t keep my mind off of it. I’m so scared that if I don’t keep watching the film, I’ll lose it. And so I’m still watching. I’m still watching us tip toe around the topic we both are internally begging to discuss. I’m watching us silently explore how the other person makes us feel. I’m watching someone touch me with one of the purest forms of love I think I have ever experienced. I’m watching a dream.

But it’s not, and I know that, but it may as well be. We’ll never discuss it, especially not at school. This tightrope we’re walking is very, very fine. I tremble with each step, and you hold me as if to promise I won’t fall, but we don’t say a word to each other.

“I get lost, I freak out, you come home and hold me tight as if it never happened at all.”

Can you sense my desperation? My fear?

“Show me the place where he inserted the blade.”

Perhaps that’s a story for another star gazing session.

“Good morning.”

Good morning. Am I still dreaming?'

(the song referenced is The Place Where He Inserted The Blade by Black Country, New Roads)

23 notes · View notes

hecatesbroom · 3 months

Text

Fanfic masterlist

Considering I'm trying to post more of the stuff I write, I figured I'd make a little fanfic masterpost while I'm at it, to encourage myself! (Because if anything encourages me, it's getting to add stuff to lists lmao)

The Golden Girls

One in four | 1.5k one-shot | a little Dorothy character study, exploring her sexuality (because I've decided she's queer, thank you very much)

and my heart beats so that I can barely speak | 2.2k one-shot | Dorothy/Rose/Blanche | when Blanche kisses Rose’s cheek, Dorothy tries not to think of how it makes her feel — and fails spectacularly. Inspired by this adorable drawing!

the finish line | 6.7k, 2/2 chapters | Dorothy/Rose/Blanche | my attempt to reconcile Dorothy's marriage to Lucas with aforementioned ship. Lying awake in her new bed, in her new home, next to her new husband, Dorothy tries not to cry herself to sleep for the umpteenth time since getting married. She reflects on what really brought her here — and she finally faces up to the fears that pushed her over the edge.

haven't got a heart to stand those memories / when my heart is still with you | 3.6k one-shot (follow-up to the finish line) | Dorothy/Rose/Blanche | Blanche lies awake at night, thinking. Wondering where she went wrong — wondering if maybe, it's her fault that Dorothy left them.

Farewell to a Daughter (in C Major) | 1.7k one-shot | Sophia & Dorothy | When Dorothy walks down the aisle for the first time, sometime in the 1950s, Sophia mourns the loss of her daughter.

Signed "forever and only yours, Isaac Newton" | 1.6k one-shot | Blanche/Rose/Dorothy | A little exploration of Blanche's feelings in season 2's "Love, Rose", in which Blanche and Dorothy write love letters to Rose. (They know they mean every word they come up with, and they're not quite ready to consider the implications.)

And my heart is set on you | 2k one-shot | Blanche/Rose | the Grease-inspired AU I never thought I'd write, but here we are I guess!

I'm tired of wanting more / I think I'm finally worn | 5.5k one-shot | Dorothy has been tired all her life; CFS is a different beast entirely, but it brings back memories. A retrospective of Dorothy's life, exploring her chronic fatigue and the exhaustion she felt in the years before, during her marriage to Stan. (Find an additional drabble here!)

Tumblr ficlets | ongoing | thanks to brain fog, I decided to start a little low pressure project to keep myself occupied: writing little explorations of some of the Girls' gayest scenes. You can find all parts in the reblogs of my main post (linked here)

Ivy | drabbles, 623 words | two ways Dorothy tries to cope with being away from Rose and Blanche, after the finale

sleeping with a woman | 3.7k one-shot | blanche/rose/dorothy (implied) | “Can you imagine sleeping with a woman?” Rose asks one night. Sophia has the time of her life watching the consequences play out.

and though it's just a line to you / for me it's true, it never seemed so right before | 5k one-shot | blanche/dorothy | Insulting her is the only way Blanche knows how to pierce Dorothy’s shell, without exposing the depths of her own soul in the process. // Blanche tells Dorothy the truth, just once, in the Rusty Anchor's restroom.

Vulnerability in The Golden Girls - an essay |8k essay (yup, that title wasn't a joke) | Vulnerability and emotional moments: themes left far from underexplored in The Golden Girls. But how exactly do our four Girls handle these feelings — and how do the show's writing and genre play into their individual relationships towards vulnerability? In this essay I will-

Maude

it's still the same old story | 5k one-shot | Maude/Vivian | what started out as a drabble exploring Maude's feelings for Vivian, turned into a 5k introspective piece about the history of their relationship. They're in a cinema and Vivian is watching the movie, but Maude is watching Vivian — and remembering.

The Locked Tomb

So jump and I'm jumping (since there is no me without you) | 4.7k one-shot | Mercymorn & Augustine | After John's assassination and his subsequent resurrection, Augustine reflects on his relationship with Mercymorn. There’s nothing else he finds himself capable of. (A rewrite of the attempted assassination scene, starting right after Mercy's death, with a ton of flashbacks)

But we never get back our youth | 700 word vignette | Palamedes & Camilla | A vignette exploring how Pal and Cam deal with their new reality in NtN – and how, through it all, they've stopped telling each other everything.

The Wheel of Time (tv)

Nothing but the memories | 1k one-shot | Siuan/Moiraine | After exiling Moiraine from the Tower, Siuan is convinced she sent her lover to certain death. A mostly introspective piece/relationship study from Siuan's point of view, in the hut she thinks will never be theirs to share anymore.

The darkness around her | 1.8k one-shot | Lan & Moiraine | Lan worries about Moiraine during a moment of quiet in their journey through the Ways. Because even if she does her best to hide it, he can still feel what she feels through their bond.

To the Manor Born

From Afar | 1.4k one-shot | Brabinger & Audrey | Christmas at Grantleigh hasn't always been as warm as the one of '81. Brabinger reminisces on the change throughout the years; once in '71, and once in '81.

#fanfics #my writing #fanfiction #masterpost #fic masterpost #the golden girls #the locked tomb #tlt #wheel of time #wot #to the manor born #ttmb

9 notes · View notes

michelleelizabethtanner · 5 months

Note

15 What WIP are you taking into next year with you? 30 Biggest surprise while writing this year?

Hey friend! Ty for the ask 😘

I only usually work on one WIP at a time, so my current Role Reversal fic is coming into 2024 with me. (And maybe 2025 at the rate it’s going!) It’s coming along though! I’m both shocked that the words are happening, and also thankful to everyone who’s encouraged me, taken the time to brainstorm ideas, listened to me whine endlessly about how hard this has been to write. ❤️❤️

This year my biggest surprise has been that unlikely ideas can catch fire given the right circumstances. Never have I ever wanted to write (thought I would write, imagined Brio happy in) a Brio baby fic. Ever. I was so opposed to the idea of Beth having more kids in middle age. It’s the very antithesis to her liberation. I do not believe canonic Rio wanted kids with Beth. (I don’t watch that scene the way others do. I don’t see him sad about losing a potential baby. I see him mourning the protections of her pregnancy.) So when My Girl started rolling out of my brain, no one was more shocked than I was. And they aren’t exactly happy in this work. Idk what they are. A lot of Beth’s experience in this fic is kind of autobiographical. (Well, to an extent.) It’s more a fic about depression and watching it happen in someone without realizing that it’s happening. I think this version of Rio went through many emotions my husband went through when he internalized my symptoms of depression and didn’t know how to work past them. Because I guess it really can feel like callousness or rejection. As someone being cold. In that sense it was a really cathartic fic to write. I made it “all work out in the end,” (kind of), and that in itself was so healing. Rio recognizing what was happening for what it was, however fleetingly, is what I would have wanted for myself in those dark moments when you wonder why you’re so broken and if maybe you won’t survive it. That fic is in Rio POV because I just couldn’t go back into that dark headspace and do it from Beth’s. While I haven’t re-read it since posting, I appreciate the opportunity to get the feelings of it out of my chest and into the universe. It helped me to let go of a lot of resentments I’ve been feeling and carrying for a really long time. (Sorry, was that depressing? Lol! That was kind of depressing.)

AO3 Wrapped

#ask games #asks #ao3 wrapped 2023 #fic writing #fic wip #nbc good girls #My Girl

14 notes · View notes

xerophylloom · 5 months

Text

The Times They Are a Changin' by Bandtrees and Hatsunoid is absolutely amazing

...And if you can handle the contents of it. No seriously. The fic is definitely dark and if you're sensitive to MEDICAL ABUSE, GORE, AND ABLEISM—Don't read it. It's especially centered around those and unless you close your eyes for all of it, you're not going to be able to handle it.

BUT!! It's so good, I would love to erase my memory just to experience reading it for the first time all over again. The disturbing parts aren't OOC (in my opinion at least) and it's very well-written, some optional out-of-site parts too.

A Laconic Summary: Mob loses control over his powers and causes permanent brain damage to Reigen and Ritsu. This fic explores the possible effects of that

Things of Note (as tags): Ambiguous Ending, Parasites (Specifically maggots and they're not TOO important, but they're there during a somewhat important moment)

Extremely long rambling (with spoilers) below the cut

This fic is so good, I created a sideblog for my AO3 to post about it. This fic is so good, that I had to stop what I was doing even though it is probably going to be detrimental to my grades. This fic is so good, that I was nearly about to rip my hair out from its roots

It's about 100k chapters long, separated into two parts. I'm easily bored and there's been plenty of times I've read a fic with maybe half the length, gotten bored, and thought of some parts as a slogfest even when it really wasn't—I just suck at getting through longfics. But reading through this, there was never a point where I thought that. Tensions were always high, rising even when I thought it wouldn't be able to, and I would end up near-screaming

And the way it shows how different characters feel? Gorgeous. Amazing. Love it.

Obviously, we have the normal book style descriptions from one character's POV, but then we have Teru's diary and Shou's little monologues(?), and it's all really cool??!?! Maybe that's what helped keep my attention. That and the little off-site links.

Speaking of those, I think I found all of them, but I'm not that observant so I could have easily missed some. And wow. Jesus christ. The last couple ones, the ones of Shou's gallery as his phone was getting wrecked, I was. just. In shock. I'm a very sentimental person who cares about photos and things, and I don't know how Shou didn't begin loudly crying right then and there because I would have

And god, so many times did I think 'Is this fic going to have untagged MCD?'. I was constantly at the edge of my seat expecting that someone would die. Reigen, Ritsu, Mob, Shou, Teru, Dimple (especially when he confronted Mob right as he was about to lobotomize Ritsu)... Basically all the main characters in the fic had moments where I was preparing to mourn

Mob really left for the deep end in this fic. I won't say that I fully get why he was so convinced that what he was doing was right, but it makes sense for him. He's not the type to let go easily, he's someone who draws strength from his bonds, and his aspect could be blood. And almost all his life, the message to never give up was basically struck into his head over and over. The one time I can recall where it wasn't? Claw, Seventh Division, where Reigen told him it's okay to run away. But I doubt that tilted the scale into being balanced in the slightest. There's so much more I could say about him in this fic. But I'll save it for now

Teru was... Teru. I understand him more than I did Mob, I think if I were in his situation, I would have maybe stopped at a certain point but we would be very similar in most of the actions we take. In the first chapter, I went 'haha silly!' at his entries. Seeing them as a little treat between the downers surrounding it. But then after he helped 'operate' (It doesn't feel right calling it that), I guess it really hit me. Then I started questioning if I would have done what he did. Then I realised I would have. Then I spiralled until I told myself this kind of situation will likely never happen to me and if it does, I'll get to it when I get to it

Serizawa is easily one of the ones you can feel for the most. Unlike Mob and Teru, he hadn't done anything to Reigen and Ritsu personally. And unlike Shou and Dimple, he didn't say harsh words. Perhaps you could blame him for not taking action sooner, but they all can be blamed for that.

Shou... Oh my god. Shou. At first, I was ready to fight Shou tooth and nail because really? That one comment on FriendBook wasn't necessary. I don't know how or why Mob didn't block him. But then as Mob spiralled further and further, I was hoping for him to make his way back into the narrative to save Reigen and Ritsu. Then he did. And he failed and he was injured and I thought he was going to die. Then he didn't. And it's implied he could have helped them. But could he have also made it worse? Who knows, that's why I put Ambiguous Ending as a thing of note.

DON'T FORGET THE OUT-OF-LINK STUFF!!! Mixed media fics that have off-site links are truly beautiful. My friend and I love that shit. Should she ever get into MP100, I'll recommend this fic to him with a shit-eating grin on my face. I hope the word count doesn't intimidate him erogdfkg... Every single bit of the off-site links I saw was just so cool. The art of Reigen made me feel strong unease, the real videos too, and that one animated video with Ritsu and Mob and Teru. Okay basically everything gave me a strong unease. But that's the point!!! And it was done well!!!!

This fic is pure talent, skill, and effort put into something that shouldn't just be preserved via a PDF file, but should be carved into stone for future archaeologists to discover. I wish I could hold even a fraction of power needed to create something this masterful

On a more less-serious note to finish this off: Mobway. Red Mobster. I was about to lose my shit. Every single time one of the companies showed up I was about to tear my hair out (in a funny way) because it felt like falling for a prank. I ESPECIALLY LOST MY SHIT AT PSYCHOLOGIST PEPPER BECAUSE IT TOOK ME SCROLLING DOWN BEFORE REALISING. Truly, the minds behind this were geniuses

Also, this might sound weird, but I got reminded of KomaedaLoveMail while reading this. The off-site links to websites for sure helped, but I guess I just associate talk of gore in written form in this way with KLM? Or maybe I haven't quite recovered from consuming that piece of media (Can you even call KLM that?) yet. This isn't bad by the way, I loved deepdiving into KLM even though my feeble brain couldn't comprehend shit.

And and one last note- Opening the song link in the end notes was like emotional whiplash. I had to sit there for a bit to process. Good music

This is a whole mess. Even for a ramble, it's a whole mess. I don't have words or sentences or even phrases for how I feel right now. I'm a mess

#The Times They Are a Changin'#Fic rec #Fanfic rec #Mob Psycho 100 #MP100

15 notes · View notes

hungriestheidi · 3 months

Note

for the fic ask ; i think you could absolutely KILL (hah) a vampire fic. i’m inclined to lean towards sebchal charles vampire. but ofc take it any direction u feel! hope ur doing well lovely, thank u for my ask :)

Wanna know something? I had never thought about vampire sebchal. But know you got it in my brain and it's like a worm digging into my braincells. Because I think it would work so well. (tw: body horror, blood, this went out of control)

I think this would be a scenario of Charles being a vampire, someone turned against their will not too long ago. And he's angry, and sad, still mourning the loss of his humanity.

He can still share his family's home because not enoguh time has passed than can make it questionable he's not aging. But the thirst for blood is ever present. And sneaking out at night to a nearby farm and trying to muffle the sounds of the poor sheep he's ripping apart to drink out their blood... that is no sufficient. The blood is too easy, he needs more. And he's angry and he's sad and he's grieving and he's so. very. hungry.

There are towns he can skip over by train and on the train he can size up lonely strangers. There is a guy he sees once, bushy beard, nice smile, eyes wide, curious, too curious for his own good. And he catches him looking, his so pretty blue eyes, the elegance in the way he lights a cigarette on the platform station.

He's not so wise, this handsome man, following his beckoning. Charles knows what he is, the open wanting he can spill over his expression, how his face is but the opening act for so many men who see him, how easy it is for them to want him.

He lures him in, he looks to have a nice, broad neck, good enough to sink his teeth, to dry until he's sated, until the blood of a dishonest man fills him for a week or two. It's good, it's got to be. They waltz around each other for a moment, asking names, throwing lies. And he's pulling him in behind the old inn, a short walk from the train station, depleted of the want for the flesh and entirely consumed by that of the red life-giving liquid.

And then, with his lips tracing the line of the collumn of his throat, Sebastian rips his heart out of his chest. Literally. With hands sharp like claws, twisting and turning the fleshy bits inside his chest.

Charles stumbles back, the haze of the alluring blood melting bit by bit. He doesn't need his heart to keep living, it doesn't even beat any longer. But he knows enough now about this way of existing to know that the man in front of him is someone who knows what to do with a knife and a vampire heart.

"Don't panic," Sebastian says, voice soft yet mocking, a smirk splitting open his facade, the hand not holding his heart is covered in a light shimmering liquid. "I wish not to end your existence, I find you too beautiful to throw away all of you."

He twists the heart and Charles feels a hollow sort of pain shoot from the empty void in his chest. "I'd rather have you to myself, forever. Bind your existence it to mine."

It doesn't take much for Charles to put together that the man is drawing a sigil in the muscle of his formerly vital organ.

"Do you want to be my companion, Charles? Every conqueror needs a loyal second in command."

Charles doesn't understand much, just that he's mean and a brutal magic user embedded with too much knowledge, who speaks like a wise man out of a legend. And that he's got the most beautiful blue eyes Charles has even seen. And that if he must live forever, he may as well get to see beautiful eyes everyday.

"Are you going to fuck me or just stain me with your blood?"

Sebastian snorts, then sinks his teeth into Charles' heart and it that feels like a taste of heaven.

#hurricaneheatt #i'm just a girl (writes body horror)#fic asks #thank u for asking this ILY!!!!!!#im insane about vampire aus ngl

6 notes · View notes

thecareandkeepingofwhumpees · 4 months

Text

This was my season's beatings gift for @spicywhumper and I thought I'd share it here too. Lyra is their OC. Ash, if you'd like me to delete this post, just let me know.

Content warning for needles, vomit, and (discussion of) blood.

As Lyra stepped out of the campus coffee shop, she was suddenly jolted, causing her to drop the latte she’d just bought. She instinctively fell into a protective stance before her brain caught up to what had happened. The pretty blonde woman who’d bumped into her was hovering closely, looking very apologetic.

“I’m so sorry! I totally wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”

“Yep,” said Lyra, who was distracted by mourning her spilled coffee. She would need caffeine if she was going to go out on patrol that night as she’d planned.

“Can I make it up to you by buying you a new coffee?” the woman asked, “Or is there somewhere you need to be?”

Lyra’s first instinct was to make a polite excuse and refuse the offer of help, but she really would need the caffeine, and she couldn’t exactly afford a new drink from the campus shop. Reluctantly, she acquiesced.

Stepping back into the coffee shop, she gave the barista her order for the second time that day. Then she and the women sat down in a booth to wait.

“So, what’s your name?” Lyra asked.

“Oh! I’m so sorry; I completely forgot to introduce myself! I’m Anika. And what's your name?”

“Lyra,” said Lyra, beginning to fall into the easy rhythm of small talk. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. What are you studying?”

“Oh, that’s probably because I live off campus,” Anika explained. “I’m studying to be a nurse.”

Lyra was prevented from responding by the barista calling her name, and from standing by Anika telling her she’d go get it.

“Do you want sugar and cream?”

“Yeah, one of each, but I really can get it myse-”

“Please, let me do it. It’ll make me feel better.”

“Okay,” Lyra said, giving in and ignoring the blush she could feel on her cheeks.

“Yay!” Anika said, getting the coffee from the counter and walking over to the cart that held sugar, straws, and the like. She turned away from Lyra to add to the coffee. Then, sitting back in her seat, she presented the drink to her with a flourish. “Ta-da!”

“Thanks!” Lyra sipped at the coffee, and, because neither of them seemed to have anywhere else to be, resumed the conversation. However, she was having a hard time focusing on the woman in front of her. Her brain was foggy, and her stomach and throat felt like they were being squeezed.

She held out as long as she could, hoping that Anika would soon announce that she had something else she needed to be doing. Unfortunately, the woman across from her seemed to have all the time in the world, meaning she would need to find a way to politely excuse herself from the situation.

Unfortunately, it seemed she had waited too long and polite wasn’t an option for her anymore. She was shivering despite the warm atmosphere of the café, and her vision was doing fun things such as doubling and blurring at the edges. “I’m sorry,” she told one of the three Anikas in front of her, “but I think I need to go.”

And with that, she promptly went — went unconscious, that is.

When Lyra awoke, she knew right away that something was wrong. Werewolf senses could be both a blessing and a curse, but at times like these, she was grateful that she was able to get a grip on her environment without opening her eyes. Okay. Her stomach churned and her throat felt tight, but those weren’t new developments. Her wrists and ankles seemed to be twisted tightly together. The crook of her left elbow ached. The surface she was lying on felt comfortably soft, but there were no pillows. The smell was unfamiliar, but somewhere in the same neighborhood as ammonia. She definitely wasn’t alone.

Carefully, she dared to open her eyes.

When she did, she was greeted with the startling sight of (a slightly blurry) Anika peering into her face. The woman smiled at her. “Hello, puppy.”

Lyra sucked in a wheezing breath and tried to scoot back, but soon realized what the pressure on her wrists and ankles was. Rope, binding them together. Fun. And the pain in her elbow? There was a pad of gauze there, taped down but not completely managing to hide the bruising underneath.

“What did you do?” she demanded, but the hoarseness of her voice undermined it a bit.

“I might have accidentally slipped a bit of aconite in your cup.” Anika giggled. “Whoopsies.”

“Why?” Lyra asked, because the how was glaringly obvious.

“Surely you’re aware of the price werewolf blood goes for on the black market,” she teased.

Lyra had a witty retort on the tip of her tongue. Really, she did. Unfortunately, the bile in the back of her throat managed to escape first. To add insult to injury, the coffee that was the source of all this trouble burned her throat as she retched it up. The rope prevented her from wiping her face, and the gagging didn’t stop, even when there wasn’t anything left to bring up.

It seemed wolfsbane didn’t agree with her. Wow. Who’d have thought.

She tried to glare at Anika, but the tears that had been forced into her eyes, the tears that she was unable to dry, must’ve made her look pretty pathetic.

Anika leaned forward to wipe the vomit from her face with a sweet smile. “Don’t worry, puppy. I would never kill you. You’re much more valuable to me alive.”

#caretaker talks #season's beatings #lady whump #lady whumpee #lady whumper #werewolf whumpee #medical whump #whump #whump writing #whump moodboard

8 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

reneeub

it's one hell of a normal abnormality

this-heart-it-beats

finding myself...

bergsallyusa

Untitled

pipixiy

MITA交友约炮平台

therealcrackaslacking

Random