#to be continued? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

foxilayde · 11 months

Note

Begging, pleading, and on my knees for a Miguel O'Hara fic by you, the best Oscar Isaac fic writer. Even scraps will do.

A heap of scraps for you lovely anon ::

When spiders mate, actual spiders that is, the female often cannibalizes the male after conception. Some female species kill during mating; crushing and suffocating the life out of her conquest. And even less fortunate classifications die before the poor guy gets a chance to copulate, the female literally sucks the life out of him, and uses his lifeless husk for pleasure and procreation.

Miguel has enough spider DNA dividing rapidly in his veins that he thinks he’d let it happen. If that’s how you wanted it. He’d welcome the slow grip of death at your hand, provided he was buried inside you when it happened. And if the final slow squeeze of life was timed perfectly with his release? He can’t even think about it too long without getting painfully hard. Thank fuck he’s at his desk, eyes glazing over on the screens while he fantasizes about you eating his innards and stuffing his chest cavity with your egg sack after— Jesus fuck what the fuck is he drooling over?? What kind of sick demented bastard? He slams his palms down on the desk, earning a gasp from a Peter.

Miguel loads up his injectable and shoots it into his shoulder. There. Thoughts were getting a little too spidery for comfort. The shot does its job and tones down the aggressive senses slightly; the light sensitivity, the super sight, hearing, the insect cravings, and most blessedly; your smell.

It’s been driving him fucking insane since Jessica rescued you from E2116. He doesn’t know what it is, it’s nothing he’s encountered before and it’s not like he could ask anyone. None of the Peters know what he means when he’s tried to hint about his ‘spidery thoughts problem’. He doubts any of them will relate to, “have you ever smelled a Gwen so divine that you wanted her you kill you, eat you, and sew her unhatched babies in your thorax?” That’s not even something his or your anatomy would ALLOW for! What the fuck is a thorax?! It’s not even a legitimate thought, it’s like the odd craving he gets, like the times he’s overdue for an injection and his mouth waters over the iridescence of a fly’s outer layer.

He can still smell you all the way from over here and his fangs sink deeper into the plush of his bottom lip. Why does he keep indulging the thoughts? Giving them the entire showcase of his mind. Perverse and vivid, the fantasies are lurid, bloody, violent, and altogether insecty. He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. He shouldn’t be trying to whiff you on the wind, extrapolating the hint of your musk into the pulsing image of your warm throbbing center. Ready. So ready for him.

The injectable does not deaden the intensity of the fantasy, but it does allow for more familiar mammalian fantasies which don’t feel as pervasive to him. He’s relieved to entertain the thought of fucking your tits. A blessedly un-spidery diversion. And just as he thinks he’s in the clear, finding a safe lane to segue and exit out of this wild train of spider sex psychopathy, he hears you from across the hall, talking about him.

#miguel o’hara #reader insert fic #spiderverse x reader #to be continued?

288 notes · View notes

chihuahuawashere · 1 month

Text

RadioStatic!!!

After pitching the “business deal” to Alastor and him truining it down Vox still want to be professional so he went in to shake Alastors hand.

When Alastor accepted the hand shake he pulled Vox into a hug and traced the word /love you/ on his back with his index finger. Vox pushed him away because he thought he was getting pranked on getting laughed at.

But when he looked into Alastors eyes he saw pain and even tho that deer was smiling it didn’t match his eyes at all. But before he could even say anything Alastor walked out of building.

A month later of not seeing Alastor Vox gained the courage to look over the security cameras in the office he pitch his idea to Alastor in. That camera in the corner had a good angle of Alastors face and Vox was completely surprised to see that Alastor didn’t mess up the camera quality.

Vox continuing, to watch the pitch go down again saw that ever time he mentioned Val Alastor gave a sour look but Vox was to excited to even notice that look and the more he kepted mentioning him the more Alastor looked mad.

At the end the pitch when he said no and Vox got pulled into the hug he saw that Alastor traced something on him. What was that? He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and began copying what Alastor wrote on him back when it done he realized what it said /love you/ HOLY SHIT!

Alastor loved him! He loves him to! But as he continued watching the security footage, he was just how heartbroken his deer was when he walked away from him and out the room.

He paused the video because right after Alastor left he broke down crying and he doesn’t want to see that again.

But he kepted wondering, and thinking “if Alastor loves me then why did he turn down my offer?” As he kepted replaying the footage over and over and over and over again he realized that if Valentino wasn’t mentioned at all throughout the how meeting then maybe Alastor would have agreed!

If he didn’t have Valentino then he would still have his deer! Why does he need that moth again? For money? Alastor have a million dollar smile! What good is that moth again? He doesn’t want him anymore he wants his deer! He knows exactly who’s at fault with taking his beautiful singing deer from him and

Ohhhhhhhhhhh he needs his revenge

#vox #vox x alastor #alastor x vox #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #radiostatic #staticradio #to be continued?#part 2?

106 notes · View notes

cookieswithay · 11 months

Text

"🕸No...no way🕷."

Thee Miles Morales x female reader😜

●•°○°•●•°○°•●•°○°•●•°○°•●

⚠️Warnings: Kinda angsty, spelling mistakes, slight cursing and the biggest part of all...

⚠️SPOILERS!!!⚠️

(Well not exactly, but you'll know what I mean when you watch the movie.)

Don't read this, if you haven't watched it, Okay!🤠

●•°○°•●•°○°•●•°○°•●•°○°•●•°○

• Y'know, most people would go see parents when they're upset. But Miles, he needed to see YOU. Even though his pops life was soon gonna be at stake, he still needed to cool down. Get his head screwed back on straight. Yes, yes, this was selfish. And reckless. But if anyone could heal a black heart, it was his girlfriend.

• About 5.2 seconds later, he crash landed on your balcony. Normally, that would've hurt, but the adrenaline was still coursing through him. He took a shaky breath, and knocked on your window.

• Please be home.

• Miles chanted in his head. The curtains were drawn. Were you asleep? Godammit. He shouldn't of came here anyway. Knowing that Miguel guy (and everyone else he thought CARED about him) he was probably followed. You did NOT need a bounty on your head just from association. He was ready to hightail it, when he heard the curtains spread.

• "Miles?"

• You barely got the word out before you were tugged into a tight embrace. By...spiderwebs?

• "Um...sweetie pie?"

• You squeaked. What was wrong with him? Silently, he picked you up, and slipped through the window. (Still hugging you, btw) He put you down and sighed.

• "Sorry, Y/N. I...I just been through some stuff."

• "Stuff?"

• You asked, with a raised eyebrow. Sure, he's been scarce for a few days. But the crime was still low.

• "Remember when I said I had to figure out what Gwen was hiding?"

• You nodded slowly.

• "Well, uh...this is gonna be long. Um, listen, turns out I'm part of a long line Spidermen. But every gen, a police captain dies. And just recently, Dad got promoted and-"

• "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Pump the breaks for a sec, handsome."

• Was he talking too fast? Or was this still a information dump? You gave him a bewildered look.

• "You're saying your pops is getting promoted?"

• The chocolate hero nodded. You were at that party. Did you forget the deets already? (Although he wouldn't be surprised, you guys were kissing A TON that day)

• "Honey pie..."

• You said with a confused and now concerned look.

• "You're dad passed last year... remember?"

• Miles blood ran cold. Died last ye- What were you talking about!? He was alive! And he was gonna stay that way! Noticing your boyfriend's panicked expression, you gave him a hug.

• "Aww, Is this why you needed to see me?"

• "You'll be okay."

• Sadly your attempt to comfort him was in vain, his heart was still racing. He was home...right?

• "Go on, hug me back."

• You said into his chest. His arms naturally raised up, but he forced them to stop when he took a look a you. You...you looked really different. Instead of one of the many sweaters he lent you, you had one a tattered jersey with the sleeves torn off. Along with dragon tattoos littered on your arms. Even your iconic hairstyle was different!

• "Y/N..."

• "Hold that thought, let's get outta the dark."

• You said. You let him go and headed to the light switch. Miles watched as you did so, although it was kinda hard. His head was spinning like crazy. What was happening...?

• "Okay."

• You said. You turned on your heels.

• "Back to the kiss and make it bet-"

• You paused. You gave him a shocked look over. What was this new style? You chuckled as you crossed your arms.

• "Jeez, you dip for a few days, and become a whole new person."

• You flicked the lights back off.

• "But...I kinda like it."

• "It's not every day, I see your hair down..."

• Miles tensed as you walked up on him. This wasn't you...well not the one he's dating. You leaned on him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

• "It's nice,"

• You snickered.

• "Kinda gives a Huey Freeman vibe."

• Well, at least you were still clever. BUT, he didn't have time for this! He had to get his family! And protect Brooklyn from that spot weirdo in general! So much to do and so little time. He pulled your arms off.

• "Y/N, listen. I gotta-"

• His words fell when his Spider sense suddenly kicked in. He yanked you towards him, and hopped to the right. Just in the nick of time too. The door blasted in.

• "Y/N!"

• Miles ear rang. That voice...sounded oddly familiar. TOO familiar.

• "Miles!?"

• You shouted. Miles!? Like Miles Morales? The dark figure turned.

• "Y/N!? Oh my god, I'm so glad you're okay-!"

• YOUR boyfriend stopped in his happy tracks A awkward silence filled the room. Miles was now face to face...with HIMSELF. Well, a more tormented kinda intimidating version of himself. Where the hell is he!? Both of the males faces slowly went from shock, to deep frowns. YOU, on the other, was STILL shocked. Who the hell was holding you right now!?

• "Miles or...Miles-es?"

• "Who..."

• They both started, slowly yet angrily.

• "In the matrix hell..."

• "ARE YOU!?"

●•°○°•●•°○°•●•°○°•●•°○°•●

HAHA! Bet no one saw THAT ending coming. Except the peeps who watched the movie too. Anywho, gotta finish a ROTTMNT ask. As always, Stay cool!😎

#spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman imagine #miles morales #miles x reader #miles x female reader #a little treat #watched a movie #loved it #random #x you fluff #Spiderman across the spiderverse spoilers #spoilers #to be continued?#stay cool #happy sunday

198 notes · View notes

hollyhoneybear · 8 months

Text

【 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 】 - reversed fates

What if the roles were reversed? Instead of Athy being reincarnated, what if it was Jennette? ... a hypothetical au I've been musing about

Let's imagine: some girl from, I'm gonna say Belgium (just something other than Korea) read Lovely Princess, but died in some tragic accident.

I wouldn't say.. she liked the book. She recognized it was very childish, and most of the characters were quite shallow. She didn't understand how certain characters, like Claude, were paraded as Paragons in the book, when they were clearly bad people.

She didn't have much of an opinion on Jennette; just that everything catered to her. Now.. a character she really genuinely liked, was Athanasia.

Despite being a threat to her position, Athanasia taught Jennette the ways of the Palace, and never tried to harm her, even as her dream of Claude loving her slipped away into Jennette's hands.

So this (for now nameless) girl was shocked and appauled when Athanasia was accused of poisoning Jennette. She couldn't be more angry! The one character who seemed to have some sense of morals (aside from Jennette, generally) was mercilessly killed off in the most gruesome way imagineable.

It's not very clear in the Manhwa what state Jennette was in when she was poisoned (the Manhwa and Novel are DIFFERENT, people). But in my interpretation, Jennette was unconcious dealng with.. y'know, being poisoned. It was too late by the time she woke up.

Our protagonist rage-quits the novel after that, having no desire to read the "happy ending" everyone gets despite her favorite character's demise.

She's ready to move on with her life and forget that awful book, but.. looses her life soon after.

...

Now is the start to my ideas for after she reincarnates. Yay!

...

After reincarnating, it doesn't take her long to realize the perdiciment she's in.

She'd become Jennette, the Female Lead of "Lovely Princess"! Unlike most heroines in her position, her fate seemed to be pretty good. Seemed.

You see, she never finished the novel. She had no idea what happened after Athanasia was executed. It's an assumption to say that Jennette, Claude, Ijekiel and the Duke had happy endings.

Despite that, she knew there wasn't any kind of impending doom awaiting her. So for a while, she was pretty chill.

By the time she was a few months old, the reality of this world had been weighing on her. This was her new life; it wasn't a book, the people in it were real. Athanasia was real.

For a while, she wasn't exactly sure what to do. Should she just.. not get introduced to Claude? But defying the Duke wouldn't exactly be easy. And even if she never gets introduced, it's not like Claude would just start loving Athy anyway; he never did, so why would he start out of nowhere?

There wasn't much she could do yet as an infant, anyway

...

After she turned 4, she realized Jennette's "Happy Life" wasn't as glorified as it was in the novel.

Ijekiel was nice enough, for the time. But the Duke was another story. He wasn't outwardly cruel like Claude, but it became apparent to Jennette that the Duke in the novel didn't have Jennette as his ward because he "just wanted her to be happy".

Jennette was being used by the Duke to get to the throne. That much, she understood early on.

It made sense to her then. He must have conspired with Jennette's aunt to place her on the throne. I mean, why else would Rosalia frame Athanasia? For kicks and giggles?

..That made our current Jennette very angry. In the novel, Jennette didn't even care about the throne, yet she was used by everyone around her for power.

Both Athanasia and Jennette were failed by the adults around them. It wasn't fair that just because she existed, Athanasia was going to die..

That's when she decided. With the OP powers and plot armor as the Female Lead, she was going to make Athanasia's dreams come true, and give everyone a happy ending!

She knew that she couldn't avoid being used by the Duke, being introduced to Claude in some way. So she decided it would be on her own terms.

If Claude loved Jennette in the novel, he could love Athanasia. Right? In this world where everything exists to make the Protagonist happy, if her one wish is for she, Athanasia and Claude to be a happy family, surely it would have to happen..

..Right?

#to be continued?#wmmap #wmmap jennette #who made me a princess #who made me a princess jennette #whomademeaprincess #wmmap x reader #suddenly became a princess one day #wmmap athanasia #athy #athykiel #lucathy #lucajen

103 notes · View notes

phantomwritr · 8 months

Text

The Road Trip (1/?)

Based on: “I would like to see Lewis on a road trip with Max” ~ George Russell, Singapore 2023

Setting: Post-Spa Francorchamps 2023.

—

“No, absolutely not.”

-“But it would be good for the socials. The fans will love it.”

“Still. I refuse.”

-“Help me out here,” the PR strategist said as he looked to his left.

“Max, you have to admit, it would help your image. The fans like him, so show the world you can get along…”

“Oh, so you’re saying there’s a problem with my image.”

-“Well,” the PR strategist said, bracing himself for Max’ fury as he continued, “to many Formula One fans, you might appear…a bit… cold?”

“And going on this road trip with Lewis fucking Hamilton would fix that?”

-“Yes, the fans…they overwhelmingly see him as the most approachable and kind driver on the grid. You do this, and they’ll appreciate you. It’s good promo.”

Max rubbed his temples and sighed.

“Fine. I’ll go. When do we leave?”

The PR strategist smiled and turned to his left, where Christian grimaced. “Right after you convince him to go with you.”

Max’ face turned beet red as he cast a scathing look across the table, before storming out of the room, heading straight for the Mercedes motorhome.

To be continued…

#4433 #formula one #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #f1 fanfic #christian horner #f1 rpf #mawis #phantom’s rambles #the road trip #to be continued?#the road trip au

75 notes · View notes

princeoftheeternalbog · 15 days

Text

Presenting the Switch!Usopp agenda🤲 except mostly he's subbing here but if you guys want part two then ask

First post with uhm uh DON'T LOOK AT ME OKAY you know what, thats what you're here for pookie

MDNI or i swear to god i will turn your bones into jelly.

Seriously tho it's got some erm explicit acts under the cut do not open if you don't wanna read that.

Usopp is trembling underneath you.

You'd been at this for about half an hour now, bringing him close to the edge and then pulling your touch away. His biceps are straining where he tries to pull against the restraints you'd slipped on him when you first started making out, the cool toned rope contrasting beautifully with his warm, tanned skin. His hair is half falling out of it's usual ponytail, curls springing out to frame his face.

"Come on- just let me finish-"

His voice is wrecked and cuts off into a higher pitched whine as you give a particularly mean twist of your hand. He's attempting to glare at you but his watery eyes completely undermine the intent, making him look more like he's begging than anything else. You just giggle, shifting back to sit more firmly on his thighs so he'll stop bucking up so much.

"You were saying?"

"Oh fu-u-ck you- hngg" Your thumb slides over the head of his cock.

"That's not a very nice thing to say"

His head snaps up from the pillow, voice coming out sharp,

"Y- you want to talk about nice??"

He looks so pissed off, it's actually really hot, you don't really get to see him being serious like this. He starts to tug harder, now trying to gain some sort of anchor with his legs, thrashing slightly underneath you.

His suddenly renewed straining actually causes the headboard to creak and you decide that now is probably the best time to disarm him.

And on that note you lean down and take the first few inches of his cock into your mouth, keeping your hand at the base. Usopp shouts, bucking his hips hard, pushing himself deeper and he very nearly smashes your nose into his pelvis. You simply readjust, moving to lie between his legs and bringing your arms up to wrap around his hips and lock them in place. You start to suck harder, moving your head slightly but he doesn't really need much considering how long he's been on the edge.

"Oh my god- Oh my god-"

His chest is heaving now, breath coming fast and his voice is wrecked. You hum around his cock, to acknowledge him but also just to wind him up more before pulling off for a second, one of your hands leaving his hip to wrap around his cock.

"I thought you were my god hm?"

As you say it, you give him one long stroke and he throws his head back, groaning as he cums. He's straining against your grip as his back arches and you can feel him throbbing under your fingers as his release soaks your hand. His voice is garbled and he's blabbering nonsense but you can vaguely make out some phrases like- "Thank you" "lve you" "so good".

He relaxes, practically melting into the sheets. His eyes are closed but you know he's not sleeping because he's still murmuring something. You wiggle your way up his body, coming up to his face to kiss him and to hear what he's trying to say. It's as you lean in, chest touching his that he finally raises his voice a little

"need t' return the favour"

Your face twists in confusion and you go to speak but there's a loud snapping sound and then your vision does spins as he flips you onto your back. The sudden shift has left you disorientated and he uses the opportunity to snatch your wrists and bring them together.

He holds them with one hand while he uses his teeth to loosen the remnants of the ties on his other hand, he's efficient, barely loosening them before slipping his hand out. He lets the rope drop to the bed, switching hands so he can take care of the other one while you just blink up at him in shock.

When he finally finishes his task he leans down for a kiss, using his tongue to coax you into opening your mouth. You're so distracted by the deep, thorough kiss that you don't notice him pulling the exact same trick that you did. Well almost the same, difference being that your hands are only tied to other each other.

"Sorry lovely, I broke the headboard before, but I'll fix it later okay?"

Each word is punctuated with a kiss and he's rambling a lot but his tone is smooth and confident, nothing like his usual way of speaking.

Maybe you should've thought about the consequences beforehand...

Oh well.

#one piece x reader #one piece x gn reader #god usopp x reader #usopp x reader #op usopp x reader #usopp x gn reader #one piece fic #mdni #x reader #op fics #to be continued?#who knows

28 notes · View notes

phasmophobie · 5 months

Text

@trauma-report fragte: 🍂 ( from "cozy autumn prompts" )

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Kalter Wind rauschte durch das Geäst der kahlen Bäume. Der Herbst hatte seinen Tribut gefordert und die Wälder nackt und schutzlos zurückgelassen. Das Fernbleiben der wärmenden Sonne erbrachte Opfer und es war auch für das ungeschulte Auge ersichtlich, dass nicht alle den Winter überleben würden. Schon jetzt hingen geschwächte Äste und totes Holz an den letzten Fasern der Rinde, andere ruhten auf dem Laub und boten in ihrem zweiten Leben einen Rückzugsort für Bakterien, Pilze und Kleinstlebewesen. Noch war der graue Himmel sichtbar, wich allerdings in unüberschaubarer Geschwindigkeit der erbarmungslosen Nacht.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Schwere Schritte wateten durch das graue, feuchte Laub und erwiesen sich als Hürde für den Wanderer. Das raue Profil seiner Stiefel verhinderten zwar frühzeitige Ausrutscher, litten allerdings sichtlich unter der Feuchtigkeit und nagenden Kälte. In einem gleichmäßigen Intervall fluchte er über die kalten Füße. Wobei sein Ausdruck von Unzufriedenheit einzig und allein dem Zweck diente, der Stille zu entfliehen.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Angst war ein menschliches Empfinden. Niemand konnte sich wirklich davon freisprechen. Zumeist irrational, hatte sich allgemein herumgesprochen, dass ein Ausdruck von Angst mit Schwäche gleichzusetzen war. Dabei war ein Gefühl von Beklemmung, Unbehagen und nachfolglich Angst, nur ein Zeichen des Körpers Achtung zu wahren. Diese Empfinden holt die Nerven ein, ganz gleich ob dies gewünscht ist, oder nicht. Ganz egal wie tough jemand ist, wie zäh oder belastbar. Es sind lediglich die Erfahrungen, die für eine Beruhigung sorgen können. Die das Herz verlangsamt, die Atmung reguliert und Rationalität erlaubt. Der Mensch lebte nach seinen Gewohnheiten, denn sie riefen keine unbekannten Situationen hervor. Der Mensch überkam seine Ängste nicht, er umging sie.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Bei einbrechender Dunkelheit in einen Wald zu gehen, entsprach nicht unbedingt der Vorstellung eines friedlichen Spaziergangs. Der Ausgang einer solchen Prämisse, entsprach der Erfahrung aus Geschichten — sowohl wahr wie auch fiktional.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀In diesem Fall waren sie mehr als wahr.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Vor weniger als zwei Wochen war ein älteres Paar beim Pilzesammeln spurlos verschwunden. Drei Tage davor hatte man unter Ausschluss der Öffentlichkeit den Verlust einer abenteuerlustigen Teenagerin beklagt — was nun natürlich mediales Aufsehen erregte und auch ein Grund war, weswegen der Wanderer davon Kenntnis genommen hatte. Davor waren unzählige, vom Weg abgekommene Hunde verloren gegangen, die selbstverständlich weniger Interessant für das allgemeine Volk waren — auch wenn dies die einstigen Besitzer anders sehen mochten. Der Mangel an Spuren ließ, wie in den meisten Fällen, kein zufriedenstellendes Urteil zu, als die Annahme eines Tierangriffs. Doch musste man kein Zoologe sein, um zu wissen, wie unwahrscheinlich das war. Zwar war es bekannt, dass Waldwege dafür da waren, dass man ihnen folgte, statt abzukommen, dass Wölfe und Bären gefährlich waren und dass sogar ein Elch mordlüstern werden konnte, wenn er gegorene Äpfel aß. Nichtsdestotrotz hätten diese Fälle etwas zurückgelassen. Leichen.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Ein ungesundes Maß an Neugier und Langeweile war es jedoch nicht, was den brünetten Wanderer in die Wildnis geschickt hatte. Natur war nicht unbedingt sein Steckenpferd. Er konnte weder der Nässe, der Kälte noch der Willkür der Natur sonderlich viel abgewinnen.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Nein, Pavel Zamádis war kein Freund der Natur, jedoch des Paranormalen.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Er würde nicht so weit gehen und behaupten alleine der Sache nach zu gehen wäre sonderlich intelligent, jedoch war die Sorge vor einem frühzeitigen Tod nicht unbedingt etwas, von dem er sich abschrecken ließ. Die Vermutung, dass etwas Paranormales hinter der Sache steckte, war ihm im verzweifelten Versuch, an Antworten zu kommen, von einer besorgten Mutter zugetragen worden. Zugegeben, niemand sollte in eine Lage geraten, in der dubiose Webseiten und falsche Versprechungen, wie die einzige letzte Lösung wirken. In einem funktionierenden Rechtssystem, betrieben und durchgeführt mit Engagement und einem offenen Geist, wären alle Möglichkeiten in Betracht gezogen worden — und an Aufgeben niemals gedacht. So war es jedoch nicht und der Gedanke an mehr als menschliches oder tierisches Zutun ist nicht gerade weit verbreitet. Auch wäre die Mutter der verschwundenen Teenagerin niemals auf den Gedanken gekommen, wenn sie nicht ohnehin bereits dubiosen medizinischen Ansätzen folgen würde — und am Tag des Verschwindens eine Aufnahme ihrer Tochter erhalten hätte. Pavel konnte froh sein, dass die Frau an ihn geraten war und nicht an die unzähligen Ermittler, die sich lediglich an ihrer Verzweiflung gelabt hätten.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Zugegebenermaßen hätte er ohne diese Aufnahme den Auftrag nicht einmal in Betracht gezogen.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Seufzend und schwerfällig stieg er über faulendes Holz und rottendes Laub. Hin und wieder musste er sich an den Baumstämmen abstützen, um einen Fall zu vermeiden, und ärgerte sich dann über den Dreck an seiner Handfläche, obwohl er in sich selbst niemals eine Eitelkeit vermutet hätte. Schmutzig werden war noch nie ein Problem gewesen, hier schien er gänzlich jemand anderes zu sein. Pavel war Hausbesuche gewohnt. Der hartnäckigste Dreck, dem er dabei begegnen konnte, war Staub oder Essensreste. Einmal hatte er einen Blumentopf mit dem Schädel gefangen. Näher war er Erde seither nicht gekommen.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Es war nicht schwer die Stelle zu finden, an welcher mutmaßlich das Paar verschwunden war, denn die Reste des gelben Absperrbandes hingen noch immer lose um die Bäume gewickelt auf dem Boden. Den einzigen Anhaltspunkt, den die Polizei hatte, war ein Korb mit Pilzen gewesen. Pavel rückte die Ledertasche zurecht, die um seine Schulter hing, und legte eine Hand fest an die raue, abgenutzte Oberfläche. Langsam, nahezu ehrfürchtig, ging er in die Mitte des Kreises, den die Spurensuche gezogen hatte. Das Laub war durch die jüngsten Ermittlungen aufgewühlt und zu allen Seiten fortgeschoben worden, sodass der kühle und harte Erdboden sichtbar geworden war. Unzählige Schuhabdrücke verfälschten das Bild des Tatortes, wobei sichtbare Spuren nicht das waren, wonach Pavel Ausschau hielt. Vielmehr ging es ihm um das, was er nicht sehen konnte.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Der Himmel über ihm schwärzte sich. Aus seiner hellbraunen Manteltasche zog er ein kleines Gerät, welches im regelmäßigen Abstand ein grelles Licht von sich gab. Die kleinen Lampen wären an diesem Abend alles, was ihm unter Umständen das Leben retten würde. Er ließ das Lämpchen zu seinen Füßen zu Boden fallen und blickte hinter sich auf die immer schwächer werdende Spur aus Licht, die ihn wieder zu seinem Auto führen würde.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Daraufhin öffnete er seine Tasche und zog eine digitale Kamera heraus. Sie war nicht gerade die teuerste gewesen, doch für den Verschleiß, den er an den Tag legte, reichte sie allemal aus. In der Vergangenheit waren ihm hin und wieder Reklamationen gelungen, bis er den Kundenservice-Gedanken bis zum Zerreißen ausgeschlachtet hatte. Geister liebten technische Geräte. Nicht, weil sie aktiv Interesse daran hegten, ihre energetischen Auren jedoch fühlten sich den Stromkreisläufen magisch hingezogen. Auf berechtigte Fragen, wie es ihm gelungen war, Kameras von innen zu schmelzen, konnte er den Technikmarkt-MitarbeiterInnen selten zufriedenstellende oder glaubhafte Antworten liefern. Das aufklappbare Stativ wurde zusammengesteckt und aufgestellt, die Kamera montiert und mit einer Beharrlichkeit wurden erste Einstellungen vorgenommen. Es war recht düster, weswegen auch die hohe Verschlusszeit, nicht viel retten würde. Glücklicherweise war Pavel nicht da, um hübsche Waldbilder zu machen. Die Kamera deutete in eine willkürliche Richtung und er drückte den Auslöser. Als wäre er gepackt von einem spontanen Desinteresse, wandte er sich wieder seiner Tasche zu und zückte ein kleines kompaktes Gerät, hielt es allerdings vorerst lediglich in der Hand. Das befriedigende Klicken der Kamera machte deutlich, dass ein Foto getätigt worden war. Mit einer flüssigen Bewegung griff er das Stativ samt Kamera und stellte sie in einem anderen Winkel wieder auf. Der Vorgang wurde mehrere Male wiederholt. Schließlich schraubte er die Kamera ab, verstaute das Stativ und navigierte daraufhin durch die Bilder. Das Geräusch eines brechenden Astes hallte durch die kalte Abendluft. Ein stechender Schreck schnitt durch seine Schädeldecke zu seinen Fußsohlen, dennoch blieb sein Blick stoisch auf seine Kamera gerichtet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Es mochte Dreck sein. Ein Fehler des Bildmaterials. Doch Pavel wusste es besser. Oder zumindest sollte man es meinen. Dennoch war er es, der umhüllt von Dunkelheit, alleine im Nirgendwo stand und wusste, wenn er verschwand, würde keiner ihn als vermisst melden. Kommentarlos schob er die Kamera zurück in seine Tasche. Tief holte er Luft, schloss für einen anhaltenden Moment die Augen und atmete wieder aus. Rauschend schaltete sich das Gerät in seinen Händen an. Langsam ging er in die Knie, sein Mantel strich über Dreck und Laub und rau ertönte seine Stimme. “Wo bist du?”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Ein Flüstern ertönte. Ein Flüstern, wie es Pavel bereits in der Aufnahme des verschwundenen Mädchens gehört hatte. Sekunden später wölkte sich sein Atem vor seinen Lippen.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Mit einem dumpfen Aufprall fiel etwas aus nächster Nähe ins Laub. Unweit seiner Position schimmerte etwas im aufkommenden Mondlicht. In gebückter Haltung bewegte er sich dem fahlen Gegenstand entgegen und kam hockend zum Halt. Regelrecht zurückhaltend strich er die Blätter fort und glitt mit den Fingerkuppen über den Knochen. Er war rau und beschädigt. Die Ränder waren gesplittert, doch es war unverkennbar. Sein Blick ging hinauf, während das Rauschen die Stille löschte. In den kargen Kronen der Bäume schaukelten unzählige Knochen im seichten Wind hin und her. Der weite Abstand machte es zu einem lautlosen Windspiel. Das Mondlicht spiegelte sich auf den kahlen Oberflächen, tauchte die Unfallstelle in weißes, frostiges Licht. Langsam erhob Pavel sich, als fürchte er, dass ruckartige Bewegungen für Unmut sorgen könnten. Er hob die Geisterbox wieder an seine Lippen. “Wo bist—”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Das Gerät rauschte, knisterte und piepste. Die Stimme verschiedener Personen formte ein Wort. Eindeutig und unmissverständlich.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“Hier.”

#⸻ 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 : ‘ walking the stacks in a library ; feeling the presence of sleeping spirits. ’ .#to be continued?#mal sehen :D #writingsfakevz

21 notes · View notes

sword-dad-fukuzawa · 1 year

Text

dammit. got infected with zazie/vash brainworms. just. the sentient hivemind of the planet gunsmoke but does the anime-girl-leaning-forward pose for shits, and he's absolutely /fascinated/ with this strange creature that's been wandering for so long.

he doesn't tend to kill worms. hell, zazie can't remember the last time he killed anything. he's always wearing a bright red coat so zazie just...watches him. for decades, zazie watches vash cry and bleed and crawl across the planet, one hand on the gun he rarely shoots and another kept free to wave at people as he passes. more often than not, he's driven out of town. his friends and lovers die. and still, this odd thing in a red coat does not stop walking onwards.

because zazie knows--that's not a human man. human men wrinkle and stoop and decay, but this creature does not. he looks the same as he did eons ago, when zazie first noticed him lying on the sand with his eyes full of stars.

human men kill worms. and this thing pretending to be human does not.

he's fascinating. and zazie is so very bored. what's it like, it wonders, to talk to something else immortal?

so it fashions itself a human form and climbs out of the earth with sand in its hair and a flying worm perched on its shoulder, just in case the thing in the red coat turns out to be violent. zazie doubts it, though.

"bit of a cold night to be sleeping in the desert," zazie says, walking into the red creature's camp like it owns the place. (it does. it /is/ the place, to be exact, and so things like boundaries and borders mean nothing to it.)

he turns to face him, half-smiling. "where else would i sleep?" he asks, and folds his hands behind his head. one of his arms is made of blue and green metal--it's not part of zazie, it knows. that arm is alien to it.

"there's a town about an ile in that direction," says zazie, nodding westward. "they've got inns."

"nah, no thanks," says the creature. "i wanted to watch the stars. you can join me, if you'd like."

watch the stars? how...human. worms have no need of the stars. but zazie sits down beside the thing in the red coat anyway.

#to be continued?#zazie the beast #vash the stampede #trigun #trigun stampede

75 notes · View notes

hornythingsfrommymind · 9 months

Text

Okay but like being a vampire’s little bloodbag and fucktoy? Maybe he grabbed me off the side of the road one night, intending to drain me dry. Slammed against the way, his hands caging me in. Sharp fangs sink into me, making me yelp at the pain. After a second, it’s gone, and ecstasy remains. We moan in tandem, me at the aphrodisiac flooding my veins and him at the delectable taste of my blood.

He pauses after a moment, looking at me strangely. “You taste too good to kill… you’re coming with me, darling.” Before I can utter a word, he grabs my head and turns it roughly, forcing me to stare into his eyes. “Sleep well, my pet. You’ll need it.”

#to be continued?#if this gets enough attention #vampire kink #pet kink #from my mind

41 notes · View notes

shingekinomyfeelings · 18 hours

Text

announcement-ish...?

So, I've been arguing with myself about something for a couple of months, but I realized I haven't been asking myself the real key question here: does being on tumblr actually still contribute to my happiness?

The answer is, 'not really, for the most part.'

There are certainly people on here I'm fond of, and things I enjoy reading and reblogging, and some sweet memories.

There are also a lot of things about tumblr as a whole that stress me out or straight up piss me off, and things that dredge up memories I'd thought would stop being bitter but haven't.

Coming back here and starting this blog in 2021 helped me shake off an incredibly horrible time in my life and start to recover my personality that had been totally buried under depression for several years. It even helped me figure out new things about myself, and it got me back into creative writing! I could never regret it, even if things did fizzle out in the end.

I met so many people, too! Some amazing writers and artists, and people I plain old really enjoyed being around.

Some of them are still here and still engage with me, and a lot more aren't and don't.

At least one of them has openly expressed regret for ever considering me a friend.

Well, fuck, that doesn't feel good, but you know what? It would have gutted me a few years back, and the fact that it doesn't now is a nice piece of proof that I've gone a long way in putting myself back together.

Of course I'd prefer it if no one else regrets being my friend, even if that friendship ended painfully in some way or another - but honestly, even if anyone does, I can tell you truthfully that I don't regret any of you spending a time in my life.

#TO BE CONTINUED?#no I am gonna say more I just don't want this to become unreadably long and this feels like a good place to pause

9 notes · View notes

gricean-sphinx · 2 months

Text

“Why are you here, now?” The swamp mound of a stag huffed. Its body creaked like the wood of an old tree as it lifted a hoof to stomp the turbid water.

Briar didn’t have an answer—not one he would take well, anyway. They looked up at the massive figure before them: he was overgrown, moss and fungi hanging off roots and vines that curled up around his legs and torso and neck, a massive crown of charcoal antlers breached out of his skull. Doubt gnawed at Briar; was their friend still buried anywhere beneath the weight of the strangling mass of vegetation? They hesitated.

The ripples stilled. The stag’s mass groaned.

#to be continued?#briar and the stag

7 notes · View notes

rocketkit · 1 year

Text

best bro 🤨

#steddie #steve harringon #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #platonic with a capital p edissy 😵#platonic edissy #stranger things #stranger things fanart #st #steve harrington fanart #eddie munson fanart #chrissy cunningham fanart #stranger things 4 #my art #reblogs appreciated!#to be continued?#doodles #sketches

89 notes · View notes

owl127 · 7 months

Note

Does alpha Lexa talk about her hookups and burgeoning relationship with Clarke to her older sister Anya?

Not at first! She's afraid Anya will judge her.

But one day Lexa is getting ready to go out with Clarke, and Anya is home, and we have that older sister curiosity like "Where are you going?"

"None of your business!"

"Are you going on a date?" *Smirks*

/insert blushing Lexa/

"Maybe."

"Because this fell from your backpack." To Lexa's absolute mortification, Anya shows a condom that shines guiltily under the living room tv light. Lexa grows and tries to grab it from Anya, but Anya hides it behind her back. "Glad to know you're being careful." Anya eyes the foil package closer, raising an eyebrow. "Since when are you large in girth?" There is no hotter surface on the planet than Lexa's cheeks.

"Give it back!"

Anya does, now even more amused.

"Is there anything you want to... talk about?"

Cringing, Lexa grasps the condom and shoves it inside her backpack.

"No!" *runs away*

Anya watches from the window as Clarke picks up Lexa, eyes squinted...

#to be continued?#ask the owl #clexa #abo #alphaxalpha #i love older sister anya vibes

9 notes · View notes

what-yadoking-likes · 1 year

Note

Consider. Sokol tries a new drink and gets warm, super warm. A bit drunk (maybe a bit horny) and overheating, he starts taking his clothes off, and oh he is NOT the only one whos getting a bit hot. (Can also be used with Duke)

I am sorry for letting this sit in my Asks for an appalling amount of time heh heh

Sokol knows cultural stereotypes are dumb, but generally speaking he knows he can handle his drink just as well, if not better than most would assume of a Russian.

Maybe he overdid it during training or heisting that week, but Sokol's usual intake of alcohol felt far more potent than usual. He knew from the faint burning sensation that his cheeks were flushed & there was a 50/50 chance that he either looked effortlessly young, pink and adorable, or like he was a teen raiding their parents' liquor cabinet for the first time, an unsteady mess that had gone too far too fast and was racing towards vomiting in the toilet in the early hours of the morning.

One thing he knew for sure, though - he felt hot. His forehead was damp, and his clothes felt uncomfortable, stuck to his skin in uncomfortable and unflattering ways.

In his drink-addled mind - at that moment pleasantly fuzzy & relaxed, prone to silly thoughts & impulsivity - he decided to strip off a layer or two.

Wolf noticed first. He was animatedly re-telling some story, some tale of a heist gone wrong & weird in all the funny ways, & he stopped mid-sentence, taking in the younger man's exposed torso.

At Wolf's abrupt silence, Hoxton glanced over & noticed, too. "Nice tits," he quipped, which of course made everyone else look.

Ah. He hadn't meant to distract everyone from the story. But he did have nice tits. He squeezed his pecs together as best he could (Hoxton snorting loudly at how he missed at first, drink-addled brain affecting his hand-eye-tit coordination).

Of course, it was at that moment some of the others arrived.

Duke walked in to the common area, tumbler of whiskey in hand. His eyes fell on Sokol's half-naked form. "Oh my," he said, eyes glinting in amusement. Dallas averted his gaze as if the sight before him was appropriate only for the bedroom and nowhere else ("You're goin' red, mate!" Hoxton laughed, pointing at Dallas' half-hidden face, to which the mastermind replied with more than a hint of indignance, "I am not.")

"Would you care to explain why you took your shirt off?" Duke asked, sitting down beside Wolf and Hoxton on the sofa, sipping his drink.

Sokol finally let his hands fall from his chest, and gave a one-shouldered shrug.

"I'm hot."

Duke paused.

"Yes. But why did you take your shirt off?"

Everyone tittered.

#Sokol #Duke #Wolf #Hoxton #Dallas #Payday 2 #CW: alcohol #CW: drunkenness #CW: swear words #Yado answers #Yado replies #Yado writes #is this a shitpost? who knows #to be continued?

32 notes · View notes

olivish · 6 months

Text

Melanie "Joseph I'm sick and tried of the media reporting that you and I are married. It's ridiculous."

Wilford "What can you do? We live in an age of disinformation."

Melanie "I expect this sort of thing from blogs and tabloids but here, look, even reputable news sources are publishing this blatant lie."

Wilford "What have you go there? The New York Times?"

Melanie "I said reputable. It's Popular Mechanics."

Wilford "Those rat bastards."

Melanie "Don't think I can't detect that note of sarcasm. I think we should get Lilah Folger involved. Send them a cease and desist, demand a retraction, threaten them with libel, really throw the book at them... nail them to the wall." Wilford "Yes… well… you could try that, Mellie, but I think Lilah has her hands full with all the bathtub murders." Melanie "What bathtub murders?" Wilford "You see, this is why you shouldn't venture out of the workshop. Now you're all worked up, asking questions about things that don't concern you. Why don't you leave this with me and I promise to have it fixed by the 11th of Decebruary, at the latest."

Melanie "The 11th of Decem-what?"

Wilford "OFF YOU GO!" ---------- LATER, IN MELANIE'S WORKSHOP... Lilah: "Melanie? Melanie Cavill?" Melanie: "Ms Folger. Yes, come in. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice." Lilah: "Well, you didn't give me much of a choice, after stealing my husband's eyeball." Melanie: "I did not steal his eyeball. I asked to see it, and he gave it to me." Lilah: "And then you yelled SIKE! and ran away." Melanie: "I'm not the lawyer here, but where I went to school, that would have been a perfectly kosher transfer of assets." Lilah: "Yale recognizes Sike, does it?" Melanie: "If you must know, it was a correctional school for troubled youth." Lilah: "Yes." Melanie: "Shall we?" (Offers Lilah a chair.) Lilah: "Thank you, but there's no need to sit, I won't be here that long. I only came down to collect Robert's eye and to inform you that there is no way I can file suit against Hearst Magazines, owners of the publication Popular Mechanics, at this time." Melanie: "But they printed a blatant lie!" Lilah: "I'm afraid not. After doing some digging I unearthed the following from a Polk county records department, documenting the civil union of Joseph Wilhelm Wilford to Melanie Rose Cavill in the Des Moines courthouse on Tuesday morning at 10:42am, signed and witnessed and stamped, May 12th 1998."

Melanie: "That's... that... no." Lilah: "Yes." Melanie: "Let me see that." Lilah: "Eyeball first." Melanie (hands Lilah the glass eye and grabs the marriage certificate): "I'm going to kill him. He was supposed to have this annulled. All record of it ever happening was supposed to have been destroyed." Lilah: "And yet." Melanie: "I'm going to kill him." Lilah: "Could you wait until the new year? I'm making a killing on the bathtub murders." Melanie: "What bathtub murders???" Lilah: "I think you ought to discuss that with your husband." Melanie: "By the way, that eyeball counts as payment for your services. I expect this meeting to remain confidential."

Lilah: "That would be a conflict of interest, consider I'm also head of your husband's legal defense team." Melanie: "STOP CALLING HIM THAT!"

#snowpiercer #to be continued?

6 notes · View notes