#you know when lore is beamed out into space?

[szappan]

you are not ready for the data gifset with quotes from a ember tragédiája that is in my head

#star trek nemesis more like e báb-istenség most már elkeringhet az űrben and everything that comes after #star trek tng you mean a cél halál az élet küzdelem s az ember célja e küzdés maga #you get the picture #e korcs alak e torzkép volna-é nagyságomnak bitor örököse.. gooouuffgddb #you know when lore is beamed out into space?

[highvern]

Lucky Me

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem reader

Genre: idiots in love, fluff, established relationship

Warnings: sickening sweet tooth rotting fluff, kissing, tears, brief mention of illness, in this lore Seungchoel is a married man and off the proverbial streets

Length: ~1.4k

Note: Drunk Goggles couple's first L-word! post Discovery by like a few weeks lmao. I'm actually crying in the club bc Mingyu is my ENXJ kindred spirit so i wrote this in the most self serving way possible lol

read more here

“Can’t believe you’re not picking up your phone right now. Really selfish of you. What if I was dying in the street and you didn’t know because you ignored my call? What then, huh? Your poor boyfriend just wants to talk to you but I guess you hate me now.”

You chuckle at the sound of your Mingyu’s scolding. Always one for dramatics, that one. Toweling off your hair, you move to tidy the discarded packaging from the decorations you spent hanging all afternoon. Mingyu’s voicemail plays through the speaker of your phone on the counter as you work to clean up before people start arriving.

“Anyways! I picked up the cake for the party tonight, and some more snacks and beer just in case. The lady at the bakery said the cake took her all morning because the picture I sent of Jihyo kept making her laugh. Hate to say it but I think you have some competition. I can already see us getting married and being her sugar baby.”

Everytime an old lady even compliments Mingyu he tells you to watch your back because they want to steal him from you. Your eyes roll at his comments but they humor you nonetheless.

“She’s nowhere near as pretty as you though, so she's gonna need to step up her game. Alright, I’m gonna stop at my place to shower and grab some clothes and then I’ll head your way. Text me if I need to get anything else on my way, okay? Love you, bye!”

You freeze, plastic bags and towel dropping to the floor with a wet thud. 

“Shit.” 

You hear his faint curse through the speaker as the voicemail ends. 

Heart squeezing as you replay his words over and over, you plop down on your butt to the hard wooden floor. Love you, bye! Love you, love you, love…

He loves me.

Oh boy.

The new information is magical, twisting your insides in knots as you think of all the times you’ve wanted to say those very words you’ve buried in your chest over and over. The times he makes you laugh so hard you think you might pee your pants, his own giggles pulling him to the ground; when he cleaned out space in his dresser for your stuff, buying duplicates of your toiletries so you could come over whenever you wanted and feel at home; when your car broke down on the side of the road and he came to pick you up, racing across town in the dark of night to get you; when Wonwoo told you he’d never seen Mingyu so happy since you’d started dating; the time he cried when Seungcheol recited his vows to his now wife; how he always pulls a extra mug out of the cabinet when he makes his morning coffee, leaving it next to the machine with a sweet note for when you get up.

I love him.

Oh boy, indeed.

Standing, you grab your phone from the counter. Mingyu called almost an hour ago meaning he will be at your apartment any second. You use the few minutes you have left to calm your breathing, praying your hands stop shaking and the blush you feel dissipates as you open the freezer and pludge your face into the cold air.

A clunky knock at the door startles you. Sprinting to unlock it, you nearly fly face first into the door knob in your haste. 

On the other side is your boyfriend, thick waves of stress palpable as they roll off his body. Mingyu’s hands are full with groceries so you snag the cake, planting a quick kiss on his chin in greeting.

“Hi,” he mumbles, fear evident on his face.

“Hi!” You beam, dazzling smile thrown over your shoulder as you walk back toward the kitchen.

“Ugh, did you get my message?” 

Mingyu pauses to kick off his shoes by the door, nervousness firing through every fiber of his being. He meant what he said on the phone, but you've only been dating for a few months and he doesn’t want to mess anything up by being over eager. Correction: he can’t mess this up; he’s certain the heartbreak would kill him.

Mingyu prides himself on all the times he’s reigned in those three little words from slipping past his lips. Whenever he’s drunk and sees you smile, whenever he’s sober and sees you smile; when you cried about your shitty boss; when he cried at Seungcheol’s wedding, imagination running rampent; every morning when he wakes up next to you and every night before falling asleep in the same place; when you took care of him when he had the flu a few weeks ago; the first time he saw the new toothbrush you bought him to keep at your place, sitting in the cup on bathroom sink right next to yours. The list is endless. 

He can’t help that he’s built to love so deeply; his friends, his family, all of the important people in his life have their own space carved in his heart including you. Even before you started dating he cared for you. Your name has been branded in his chest since day one and inferno has only grown as his fondness expands with each moment.

“Yeah, I did. Sorry I missed your call, I was in the shower.”

“It's okay! I just know you like to be kept updated.”

After placing Jihyo’s birthday cake safely in the fridge, you turn to face your boyfriend. He looks like he might actually throw up, hands shaking as he unpacks the bags he’s brought in and eyes refusing to look in your direction. You can tell Mingyu is watching you out of his peripheral, waiting for you to comment on his confession with bated breath.

You stride around the kitchen island to stand next to him, helping sort the different treats he bought in silence. The juxtaposition between you two is almost laughable. You’re all shy smiles and flushed cheeks, unable to control the wild thump of your heart; while Mingyu looks like he might sprint out the door and into traffic at the drop of a hat.

Once all the bags are discarded, food lining the counter to be prepped, you turn to rest your back against the edge of the cool marble, your soft gaze focuses on his face. Arms crossing in front of you, you watch as he pretends to be busy to avoid meeting your eyes.

“I love you too.” You confess shyly, sides of your mouth quirking upwards.

Mingyu’s head shoots up so fast you’re afraid he might give himself whiplash. All you can do is smile demurely, embarrassed by the way he stares at you with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Really?”

Biting your lip to control the grin attempting to split your face in half, you nod gently.

Next thing you know you’re consumed in a tight embrace, squashed into his chest as he squeezes you so hard you might explode. The smell of his cologne and laundry detergent waft of his shirt, soothing your own nerves as you relax in his hold. You can hear his heart racing in his chest, thundering below your ear; your own echoing in response.

“Say it again.” Mingyu sighs into your hair.

You can’t help but laugh.

“I love you.”

“Oh my god.” He gasps.

“Say it back.” you pout, chin digging into his pec as you peer up at him.

For a second, all Mingyu can do is stare at you, face soft with emotion, eyes cataloging your features. In his wildest dreams, he never thought he’d be fortunate enough to feel this way about another person. How lucky is he that the person he loves loves him too?

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He says, hands moving to cup your face as he emphasizes a different word with each repetition, tip of his nose rubbing against the side of your own.

“Baby, are you crying?”

“I can’t help it! I love you! And you love me!” He wails, pushing his face into your cheek. “I think I’m gonna faint.”

“Aww, Gyu!” You coo, turning your head to kiss away his tears as they fall.

Mingyu catches your lips with his, needing to show you how much he cares for you rather than just tell you. 

But one more time doesn’t hurt.

“I love you.”

#svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #svthub #kim mingyu #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #🫡 highvern #svt #dghe couple #svt smut #svt fluff #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu fluff

[driaswrld]

ultraviolence — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

wc : 3k

summary : suguru coming home was supposed to make things better. but, it's as if everything is going wrong again.

part of : the star paradox collection.

notes : pls read this and this first ty!! LORE DUMP 🤭 mostly from sugu n toru's pov dealing with their new life and the twins along with jujutsu society. reader is trying to be the mediator as always and shoko is the best ofc. just the one where everyone has an existential crisis. (part one of two hopefully)

other : I PROMISE YOU'LL GET FLUFF SOON 😭 mentions of alcohol, blood, smoking obvi, idk why i named this ultraviolence lmao (shit hits the fan in the next tsr im js trying to be kind i promise!)

comment to be added to the tsr taglist!

current cassette : pretty when you cry - lana del rey

You come home to a house colder than you left it.

There’s a small comfort in the droplets of water that splatter against the wooden floor when you hang your jacket up, having remembered the way the girls beamed up at you only an hour ago as you walked them to school.

The twins were adamant to hold your hands, Mimiko blushing the whole time and Nanako poking fun at it, promising to hold your hand everyday until they became big girls.

Big girls that would only need you to hold their hand halfway — the same way Suguru only walks you and Satoru halfway to the school before heading back.

But the sliver of a chill that reverberates through your bones doesn’t resemble the comfort of a morning’s soft rain drizzle.

“You can’t just dismiss the issue like this, Satoru!”

“Where’s my own will, huh? Can’t I just do this?”

“This isn’t about you.”

You hear everything for a moment, muffled shouts and grumbles from the bathroom.

“Yeah, you’ve made that pretty clear, haven't you?”

Then you hear nothing at all.

The investigation launched on the ninth day in December.

Suguru had all but been home for a week and then some, settling into the shoddy apartment you and Satoru called home between missions and meetings with Yaga and the higher ups.

It took half a day to move his old things out of the dormitory building, most of what really mattered was already sitting in the hall closet untouched, kept the way Suguru would’ve wanted it.

It was after he rifled through the closet in search of a fresh set of clothes did he realize, he had been mourned.

You and Satoru had mourned him like a mother would a child, like a womb stretched to make space, only to bleed.

His clothes smelled more like the both of you than it did him.

The fourth day, Suguru spent the night hunched over the balcony, smoking a silver blue parliament with Shoko while you and Satoru attended a hearing with the higher ups.

A necessary audience, they defined over the cryptic email.

Shoko described it as a means to an end, Satoru was still the strongest and you were his voice. The meeting was all but a farce to keep you two in check — but Suguru read it clearly for what it was.

A threat.

“He’ll be clan head,” Suguru murmured between plumes of smoke. “They won’t let him turn it down any longer, especially with me around.”

At this, Shoko chuckled, sucking in a sharp breath.

“You think he’ll do it this time?” She asked, somewhere between knowing and not knowing.

The higher ups want Satoru under their thumbs — not that you’d so much as let them come close — that much is evident. But it’s become a lose to win situation.

The guarantee that Suguru and the girls would remain untouched and hidden under the condition that he follows their rules, does it their way, doesn’t ask, doesn’t so much as breathe a word or commit an action using his own strength outside their command—

“Satoru as a lap dog?” Suguru laughs a little.

He just can’t picture it.

What he can picture though is the Six Eyes user backed into a corner, with no other choice but to concede. Then again, Satoru’s never been submissive to authority, no matter the setting.

A beat of silence passes over him and Shoko, and she knows what he’s thinking before he says it, yet she doesn’t caution him otherwise nor does she blame the nicotine.

“He could kill them.” Suguru says, “It wouldn’t take him long.”

The seventh day, Suguru stands in the middle of one of the many engawa corridors of Jujutsu High, dressed like a teenage dropout, teeth sinking into the inside of his cheeks until crimson stains his tongue.

You told him last night while cuddled into his side, Satoru’s head on his chest, “Walk away from it the right way, Suguru.”

And admittedly, he was going to laugh a little, kiss your cheek and maybe lull you back to sleep and ease your worries.

I don’t resent you,

for the path you chose.

As long as you swear,

yours and ours will converge.

“Geto, what is this?”

Suguru looks down at the sealed envelope he passed to Yaga seconds ago, the word resignation printed in bold atop the sealed flaps.

If he intends to kill himself, he should at least do it the way you asked him to.

He owes you that much.

Suguru never thought of himself to have been in a position where he could live past twenty ; he thought he was lucky Satoru even let him live to see the first snow, even if it was from the bittersweet solitude of the bed you three shared.

“I’ll graduate first,” Suguru says, stuffing his hands in his pants pockets.

For the sake of saving face he took a total of ten missions after his sentence was pardoned.

Five to prove he wasn't a liability to the Jujutsu world, two to hover by your side – he hadn't realized post traumatic stress could manifest in the need for more physical attachment – and three to see up close just how much Satoru had on his shoulders now.

To see just how different Satoru had become because of him.

“And then?” Yaga asks it like a cruel joke that only he and Suguru know.

People are talking. People have been talking.

Suguru Geto the defect. Suguru Geto the cancer of the strongest. Suguru Geto the curse. Suguru Geto—

“Maybe I’ll die of old age.”

I pray death finds me

under you two

in our bed.

If not,

kill me yourselves.

There’s meaning in that too.

That same afternoon, brandished with what should be newfound freedom – Suguru Geto. Not the sorcerer, not the curse, not the man – he drinks himself sick until he blacks out on the sofa.

Alcohol is cheap at Shinanoya, it’s been that way since he was sixteen and idle in the summer of ‘06, coaxed by Satoru into printing fake IDs, blacking out on the floor of your dorm room and waking up to throw up, just to blackout again.

Suguru took the train back and passed his stop two times.

Two times he thought of two different outcomes and two different destinations.

First, he’d go back to Jujutsu High and take the resignation back from Yaga before he signed it.

He’d call your cellphone, tell you how he's had a change of heart, whisper into the line : “We should celebrate. Me, you and Satoru.”

But you’d know it was a lie.

He still has twisted dreams of waking up in a gas station bathroom in a pool of blood that isn't his own.

Dreams that don't frighten him at all.

Second, it came to him the moment he considered actually getting off at his stop and going back to the apartment.

He’d let the train take him to Shibuya, stand in the middle of the crossing and scream.

People would look at him weird, others would walk by.

And the first monkey to reach out and offer him help, he’d—

“Suguru?”

He wakes with a startle, eyes bloodshot and half lidded.

“Name—” he opens his mouth, half empty vodka bottle tilted over and soaking the carpet. Satoru comes through the door a moment later, leading the twins to the kitchen to set their half eaten bentos down.

A shiver runs down his spine when he glances at the clock above the mantle. 12:53pm.

“School ended half day,” you say to him. Satoru doesn't so much as glance at Suguru when he steps back in to take the plastic bags of takeout from your hands. “They called but you didn't—”

Suguru's already sitting up, fishing through his pockets for his phone and clicking at the buttons.

Two missed calls from Mimiko and Nanako’s school.

Two missed calls from their homeroom teacher, Ms. Aiko.

Four missed calls from you.

One voicemail from Satoru.

“I'm so— shit,” Suguru sets the bottle of alcohol upright, pressing a palm to the carpet to find it damp.

His skin is hot, he feels like a mess, no doubt he looks like a mess with the way you're already kneeling beside him to screw the bottle shut. “I’m so sorry, I didn't— everything with the letter and then the train got delayed—”

“Suguru.” Satoru speaks for the first time, looks at him for the first time – behind bandaged eyes. “Sober up by tomorrow, yeah?”

Your head flits around to give Satoru a stare, as if to ask if that's all he has to say right now. But Suguru’s fingers enclose around your wrist, it’s okay, I was the one at fault.

“Satoru—”

“Just do this one thing right, please.”

The twins’ school dismissed half day due to heavy snow this early in the month. Suguru, listed as the girls’ primary guardian, gets the calls first.

He doesn't pick up.

Your work line rings next, and it goes to voicemail.

In between exorcising a special grade in Shinjuku, you don't hear it ring.

As the devil would have it made and done, Satoru’s line rings while he's at the school. Loud.

“Gojo-san!” The lady from the admin office knocks on the door twice, and is met with silence. The phone rings again, but this time it's the main line. The office extension.

The one he’s been using since he put in his teaching application.

The phone clatters against the desk in robust vibrations, Limitless almost bending the coily cord to nothingness.

The meeting room of four higher ups and two members of the Gojo clan watch him intently, scrutinizing him, waiting.

Beyond his better judgment, Satoru tells himself it's just you, calling to ask if you should bring back kikufuku or just the udon.

Or it's Suguru, who’s confused and can't find one of his things in the apartment and needs some guidance.

Satoru's not a pious person. But he wishes he’d have prayed the moment the call went to the answer machine.

“Good day, Mr. Gojo! I’m calling regarding the girls. School’s been dismissed half day today on account of the weather but Mr. Geto nor Ms. Name are picking up.”

“I’m hoping this reaches you soon so the girls can have a ride home. Thankyou! Stay warm!”

The eighth day, you wake to the smell of jasmine and hot oil. Four messages from Yaga, one email attached, forwarded to Satoru : Adoption fraud.

“—he hates me.” Suguru mumbles, shirtless and damn near cowering from your gaze, flipping the omelet in the frying pan, two steps away to avoid the oil splatter.

“Don't say that so casually,” you shake your head, shutting the fridge door, setting a carton of milk on the counter. “It's not like you believe that.”

Suguru flips the omelet with one hand on the pan handle, the other flicking the carton open and turning it to his head in a quick gulp.

He doesn't confirm it.

“Suguru—” you smack his arm and take the milk, turning away to rummage through the pantry for the pancake mix.

“I know.”

No, Suguru.

You don't know.

"I try to be patient," Suguru says quietly, shaking his head. "I know we're not sixteen and that this and then are two different things—” He turns the flame down, refusing to look over at you.

“Nobody's asking you to be perfect,” you cut him off, pancake mix forgotten on the counter. “You made a mistake, it happens—”

The higher ups are already breathing down Satoru’s neck about the twins now that they've been found out. It's an uphill battle in the Jujutsu world, your phone won't stop ringing.

Whether it's Yaga proposing damage control to have you and Satoru set apart on missions or another higher up waiting for you to slip up and beg for help, beg to be in their debt.

“I owe you better,” Suguru whispers, more to himself than to you.

He’s never been the type to ask for help or beg for forgiveness or cower at someone's heels. But you saved him — by putting your life on the line and in turn making Satoru cover it up — and he hates himself for it.

I wish

you would've

just let me stay dead.

“Because that's what I deserve? Better?”

Suguru gets the call from Shoko the next day.

December 9, 2007.

A formal investigation is announced into the involvement of [name] [name] in the case of Suguru Geto’s defection and pardon — alleged charge : fabrication of evidence.

Satoru makes his mind up the same day, sends the twins to stay at the dorms with Shoko for the weekend and brings you and Suguru with him to the Gojo estate.

“I can feel your eyes,” you whisper, seated cross legged on the tatami floor, nursing a cup of tea in your cupped palm.

You've never liked the Gojo estate. Not in winter at least, not when it's like this.

Satoru has his back turned to you, fingering the loose cloth of white bandages covering his eyes, almost hesitant. He recalls his mother's words to him from a few hours ago.

You look tired, Satoru. You're never tired.

There’s an unspoken thing residing here between both your energies and it becomes unbearably evident.

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs, slipping the baby blue haori off his shoulders, draping it over the edge of the bed. “Just the cold getting to me 's all.”

Loose and darkened strands of hair lay on the silk sheets where Suguru sat moments ago. Satoru holds his breath.

My lover’s hair is splitting at the ends, tearing apart at the seams just like me.

I pray you don’t notice.

“Is he okay?”

You set the ceramic cup down on the table, turning your head to glance over at Satoru, who despite himself, wears his emotions like a cardigan knit tight between his brows.

“Why won’t you just ask him, ‘toru?”

He thinks he hates you. He hates not being more like you.

With the way you say these things so easily.

Maybe it’s the deep rooted thrum of Suguru’s cursed energy in his veins, or the bitter taste on his tongue when he wakes in the middle of the night just to see if he’s still here—

Maybe it’s that voice in the back of his head, the instinct pounding on the walls of his heart, telling him this is only for a while, it won’t last.

“You can’t lie to me.” Satoru reasons, bending his knees and folding his body next to yours, wrapping and unwrapping the length of cloth around his fingers over and over again. “But he can.”

Or maybe it’s the way he knows even if Suguru lied to him again, said it was okay, said that he’d stay, said that he’d let you and Satoru be selfish for once and keep him here, keep him tethered to this existence he loathes so much—

“Satoru…”

—he’d believe him.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” He sighs, near breathless.

You lift your hands to cup either side of his face, hooking your thumbs under the pale cloth, unraveling and unraveling and unraveling.

How many more layers?

How many more walls?

How many—

“His energy is restless.” Satoru could find other words to describe it, the aura, the shape of Suguru’s soul, his scent, his being, his whole existence. Something only you could understand.

“It’s pouring into me, and I can’t— I pretend I don’t feel it, that I don’t know that he’s…”

Different.

Suguru is different now, he wants to say.

Suguru’s unhappy with me, unhappy with us.

I can’t give him what he needs.

I was too selfish to have asked him to stay. You were too selfish in saving him.

We were too selfish. Do you think he hates me for it? Do you think he wishes he were—

“He loves you.” You tug on the cloth, let it fall and pool in endless strands around his neck. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

Satoru’s eyes are dim, bleaky sapphire and cerulean staring back at you.

Don’t look at them, look at me, look inside me, my eyes are lying, that’s not how I feel—

“He loves you too,” he says it like a confession, a secret. Love can’t be enough, can it?

Love never stopped Suguru from leaving the first two times.

Love never stopped Satoru from waking up so many nights with tears running down his neck, from where you cried for Suguru in your dreams.

Love never stopped Satoru from not being strong enough to bend the world and stretch it to fit Suguru inside.

Why should you love him whom hates the world so?

Satoru lets his head fall into the crook of your neck, body slumped over yours and breath shaky.

Loving Suguru came as easy as breathing if not easier.

He’d spend nights curled in his bed at the dorms, clicking through photos he’d taken of you three, back then, when it wasn’t anything yet but still everything to him.

“Yaga-sensei, please pair me with someone else!”

“Hah!? We not good enough for you anymore, name?”

“Satoru, name, don’t yell so early in the morning…”

And even from the first mission, when Suguru’s hair was shorter and you hadn’t quite figured out how to control your technique.

When Satoru had to save you from plummeting to your death after you sliced a curse open just for grabbing Suguru and yanking him by his hair.

Satoru thinks, maybe, he came into this world loving you two.

Because he loves me more than all the world.

“I’ll protect you,” he whispers into your neck, full of conviction.

He’s never not the strongest, except maybe when he’s here, in these moments. “I’ll protect the both of you.”

Let me do this one thing,

just this once.

Let me be the one

who holds us together.

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

tsr taglist :

@wishmemel @draecys @pearlvalley @cookielovesbook-akie @astral-hydromancy @celestair @/midnightbluehorizons @plaggi @blue-blossomss

#★ DRIASWRLD #tsr ⭐️ #jujutsu kaisen #satosugu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #satoru gojo #suguru geto #gojo x geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[lunarfied]

07. WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP ME ? ; left on read

scaramouche x gn! reader smau

y/n pov;

you put your phone down with a frustrated sigh, feeling hot tears well up behind your closed eyelids. nothing made sense anymore. why was ajax and venti sitting with kuni? you didn’t even let any of them explain because seeing him there just set something off inside of you. so many past memories with him, good and bad, flooded your mind as soon as you saw him and you just had to get out of there.

a hand found it’s way onto your shoulder, pulling you away from the internal hate directed towards kuni. “i know you said you didn’t want to talk about it, but are you sure you’re okay, y/n?” tighnari asked quietly.

as soon as you left the restaurant, you sought out someone who you knew wouldn’t ask questions and let you in their space without a second thought. and that friend was tighnari. underneath his sarcastic exterior, he cared dearly for all his loved ones, so it was no surprise that he immediately welcomed you in with open arms seeing your solemn frustration. cyno, tighnari’s boyfriend, and collei, tighnari’s younger sister, were there as well. cyno because he lived with tighnari in their apartment off campus and collei because she liked visiting her brother as often as her schedule allowed her to.

allowing yourself a bit of comfort, you leaned your head onto tighnari’s shoulder to which he wrapped his arms around you and started rubbing circles into your back, soon followed by cyno and collei huddling around you to join in the embrace (which was surprising because cyno hated physical contact with people he wasn’t close with). the soothing touches and words from your friends was enough to make a couple tears fall down your cheeks.

“fuck, i didn’t want to start crying about this.” you said with a slight laugh at your own predicament.

tighnari looked down on you with eyes full of concern despite the warm smile plastered on his face. “it’s okay to let your emotions out, you know.”

collei had moved from the group hug to type something on her phone while cyno lingered near the two of you. “yeah, but still.” you sighed, wiping your tears with the back of your sleeve.

”i’m sorry, i’m just upset because i saw my ex.” you admitted, though when saying it out loud, you felt a little embarrassed.

”you don’t have to apologize-“ tighnari started before cyno cut him off.

”i’d be upset if i saw my ex too.”

”you don’t have an ex?” tighnari raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend’s attempt to cheer you up. cyno rolled his eyes with a slight smirk, nudging his foot into tighnari’s side. 

“i ordered us some food!” collei chimes in, draping her arms across your shoulders as she leaned on your back. “so let’s forget about your ex! we can watch some movies or play some games and eat.” she suggested, smile never fading. it warmed your heart that they were caring for you this much, you didn’t think you deserved it since you just barged in on their hangout.

”okay, that sounds like fun.” you nodded in agreement despite the internal debate as tighnari and cyno got up to set up the tv while collei opened a nearby closet and pulled out blankets and pillows.

”we should play sonic adventure two.” cyno said to tighnari which got him a snort in response.

”why? so you can explain the sonic lore to all of us?” tighnari joked.

”yes.” cyno stated, you could tell he was beaming at the idea of showcasing all his knowledge on the series by the way he was inching closer into tighnari’s personal bubble. cyno was never good at expressing himself but you’ve sat through countless amounts of tighnari explaining cyno’s body language to you. you were just that good of a friend.

as tighnari and cyno set up the gamecube and talked amongst themselves, collei snuggled up on your left side and offered you a small plush for comfort. “why did you see your ex? like you visited them or?” she asked innocently, collei always reminded you of a younger sibling even despite the two of you not being related at all.

”well,” you started, unsure of whether or not you wanted to admit your outburst at the mere sight of seeing him. “i was supposed to meet up with my two friends to meet our new roommate, since the three of us dorm together and we needed a fourth since the old one moved out. but then he was sitting there with them — and — i don’t know — i kinda flipped out?” you sighed, leaning the side of your head on top of her own while squeezing the plush closely to your chest.

”ah, i see,” collei started, linking your arms together with a sigh, “that sucks. i can’t imagine how you’re feeling.”

”like shit. ugh, i have to text them back.” you looked over at your phone casted off to the side. “fuck! he even texted me, you know?”

collei looked up with a raised eyebrow, “wow, that’s kinda shitty? after ruining your evening he even texts you…” she scoffs and cyno rejoins you two on the couch while tighnari heads downstairs to get the food.

”he sounds like a bitch. bet i can take him in a fight.” cyno sat by the armrest so tighnari can settle between the two of you. you laughed at his joke (although he meant it) and shook your head.

”id love to see that actually.” you bit the inside of your cheek, “but as much as i hate him for breaking my heart… i was kinda relieved to see him?”

“y/n, you lummox.” you heard tighnari start to scold you from behind as he came back with the food. you daren’t turn and look him in the eyes because you could already tell he was standing with the food in one hand and the other placed on his hip. “don’t you dare tell me you’re missing him after he, might i remind you my dear, broke up with you a week before your birthday?” you heard cyno and collei gasp, forgetting they didn’t know that about kuni.

”oh my gods???” collei’s hand was over her mouth.

”yeah, so, about me fighting him…” cyno mutters under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest.

“guys…” you whined, covering your face with your hands. “i don’t want to talk about this anymore, ugh, cyno why don’t you talk about your sonic fursona?” you decided to change the subject away from you as soon as possible so that you could collect your thoughts.

cyno’s eyes lit up and he sat up almost like a puppy dog seeing treats for the first time.

“i thought you guys would never ask me to.”

masterlist | prev - next

playlist !

A/N: btw sonic adventure 2 best sonic game out there don’t even argue with me i’m right 🤞 sorry this chapter is late (it's not i dont have a scedule for this) uhm im currently dying (not actually but ive been in bed all day) anyways since i couldn't sleep last night at all i started thinking about making another smau for scara what do u guys think.....

TAGLIST [CLOSED]: @machiroll @raideneiari @mariusvonhangme @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @sakiimeo @ferumie @plinkuro @scaraapologist @baelloraa @bubblesmei @lovelyiez @isa-solasun @lazy-sanns @thenightsflower @divinechicha @rxd-iant @elysiasgf @cerisearan @alwaysmentallyill @kaoyamamegami @richxelle @monochromaticelliot @kunikuzushiit @thedumboneforsomereason @lordbugs @osamusswife @useless-potatho @tsuyumbrella @orionicchaos @lxry-chxn @twistedrxses @akagism2 @kxr0mi @angryhope @ivylibrary-00 @makilovescofi @mechanicalbeat1 @erosdevil @ghostsaysno @anotherdayanotherobsession @garlicforthewin

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin fics #genshin fluff #genshin modern au #genshin impact au #genshin imagines #genshin drabbles #genshin socmed au #genshin smau #genshin x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche imagines #scaramouche smau #kunikuzushi x you #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x y/n #kunikuzushi smau #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n #why didn't you stop me scara au

[vintagexherry]

Child's Play [2]

pt1

Bully!Miguel O'Hara x Reader

This part a bit shorter than last chapter but consists bit of lore

//Bullying, Degradation, Yandere ,Miguel being rich and a playboy, Miguel isn't as grumpy as we know he kinda ooc here

Previously

For now, you focus on putting your messy and blank-ish notes in your bag and head for the doorway, hoping he didn't notice you. "Y/N? That you?" And there you wish somebody had a shovel so you could bury yourself.

"Long time no see Y/N how ya been?"

Forget a shovel, you hope somebody bulldoze this building so you don't have to go back, But you're here now so might as well get through it, maybe he changed? acted more mature than before?.

You nervously laugh of his question

"oh uh Yea, doing fine...?"

Miguel seemed to notice your hesitation and signed.

"Come on Y/N you ain't foolin anyone cariño, is this about high school? You know I was just teasing you."

The thought of him getting matured was immediately thrown out the window.

"Ok um, Look Miguel as much as glad your doing alright I think it's best if we just stopped talking to each other."

You tried to evade him, seeing him again in the flesh doesn't do your mental health well, so much more when your talking to him.

You think the best course is to just turn a new page and seperate ways.

Miguel thinks different.

"Oh so it is about the high school? Look how bout you and me go to this cafe near campus and we can talk about it yea?"

You want to laugh at that idea, the last time you and him decided to talk things out in a cafe, he ended up spilling hot coffee on you, you swear you could feel the burns again.

You look at the your watch and you remember you don't have any more subjects to take for the rest of the day.

"Miguel the last time you took to me to a cafe, you burnt me with coffee..."

Miguel doesn't seemed fazed and shrugged.

"And? come on, hermosa, you know that was an accident, and if it happened again, I would be embarrassed and probably lend you a jacket, or we could order cold drinks if you want. How bout that, huh?"

Miguel pushed on even further and you tried to ignore his nicknames for you, you can't lie that your surprised with the turn of nicknames, usually he would call you a slut,a whore, a nobody, an idiota and etc etc.

Knowing Miguel, he isn't a quitter so for you to live to see another day you have to go with his whims and you go as you did.

"Alright...Alright, just uhh send me the location I guess? I'm just gonna drop my things at my dorm and I'll see you there" Or maybe you could use this as an escape and just say your pet needs to go to the vet or you suddenly feel sick.

But life ain't always that easy.

Miguel chuckled "No need for that hermosa, We can directly go to the cafe in my car"

You felt yourself shake, one thing you always tell yourself is to never be alone with Miguel aside from him taking you home, you never ever want to be in a closed space with him.

"No uh- it's really oka-" You wanted to relent more but Miguel is...well Miguel.

"Y/N come on, don't make this harder as it is, all I wanna do is talk in a sweet,relaxing and quiet environment, is that so hard?"

You panic even more in the inside but your scared what he could do if you reject further.

"Alright...Okay I'll go..."

Miguel beamed brightly at your (forced) agreement.

"Good. Follow me"

As you follow him out to the parking lot you panic to see lesser people but you can't help but admire the Rolls-Royce Phantom Series II coated in a dark blue color.

Miguel noticed your awe and chuckled.

"Like it? My parents gave it to me once I graduated from high-school"

Of course, anything for their priced baby, you sometimes forget how rich Miguel really is.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

The car ride was silent in a way aside from the radio, you opted to sit at the back but Miguel, once again, relented you sit at front. And you're running out of energy to fight back.

So here you are at front, next to Miguel, and stuck at traffic.

You guess it gotten too quiet for you started feeling tense. So you decided to break it.

"So uh.....While we're here, maybe you can tell me what your planning to tell me at the cafe."

Miguel wordlessly glanced at you and back at the street while awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well...How do I start this" Miguel seemed to be forming words at his head and you can't help but be surprised, Miguel always projected himself as confident and always know what to say at any given moment but this the first you witness this so you waited as traffic already moves and Miguel started driving again.

"You know what, we're almost to the cafe, let's save it for there"

You wordlessly nodded and once again the ride was silent.

Both finally arrived and as you sat down Miguel asked for what you want, saying that your fine didn't do you any good since Miguel decided to order for you, so you sighed and waited for him while you sat down by a window and admired the setting sun.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

"...So now I got that out of my chest, maybe we can go to this year's prom and laugh about the past? What do you say?"

You knew this was a bad idea

Once both you got your drinks he started apologizing for his actions during high school, but also proceeded to tell you it was due to his parent's pressure on him.

You can't even swallow your drink properly. ""Look....Miguel I... I think it's really best for us to seperate ways and move on, you can't just invite me go prom after saying you made me your personal stress ball for your problems...I-I'm gonna go...But here" You slide him some money

"Thank you for the drink, goodbye Miguel" You stood up without waiting for his answer who only clenched his fist as if forcing himself to stop grabbing your wrist to pull you back to sit down.

You got a taxi and head straight to your dorm and Miguel was left seething.

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 #tw yancore #tw bullying #tw yandere

[somebluemelodies]

happy holidays my friends! my gift to you in these trying lore times is canon divergence <3 angst? what’s that? i only know richas and pepito have gotten ahold of mistletoe—

The kids are planning something.

The kids in question? Richarlyson and Pepito, who have been chittering and giggling almost nonstop since they finished opening their presents, using their notebooks instead of signing so their parents can’t figure out what the fuck could be about to happen.

Cellbit and Roier stop trying to figure it out when they get denied information the third time, so they can only trust whatever the two hatchlings were plotting isn’t going to be explosive, at the very least.

Nothing in fact happens for a long while, and one could assume that maybe they don’t have any plans in mind. Maybe they’re just gossiping.

(God only knows how much Richarlyson loves to.)

And then the party happens. An island-wide thing, per most of the major celebrations. There’s a whole new area, too, decorated similarly to spawn. A snowy little wonderland, with colorful blinking lights strung between tall pines decorated with large ornaments and occasional garland.

(It’s a welcome change from everything that’s been transpiring over the last few weeks.

A chance to recuperate.)

Roier is talking to Étoiles and Bagi when something tugs his pant leg, and he looks down.

Bright eyes and big, round glasses are looking right back up at him. “Pepiux?”

Pepito grabs his hand instead, trying to pull him away. “Ay— ¿Qué pasa, Pepito? What the fuck?”

Pepito only tugs his hand again, more insistent. The hatchling is smiling, though, eyes twinkling with mirth Pepito has failed to conceal, and at the very least, Roier knows something hasn’t gone to shit. “Okay, okay. Vamos, Pepito, vamos.”

He’s led over to under some tree a good distance away, but he doesn’t see anything. The spider-hybrid looks around, shooting Pepito a questioning look, but Pepito only beams with no elaboration, still holding his hand.

Roier keeps looking around. Is he supposed to see something? Nobody seems to be doing anything unexpected.

And then he looks up. “No mames, wey— Pepiux, you sneaky—”

“Guapito?”

He looks back down, and finds his husband being led by a very determined-looking Richarlyson. “O que é isso, Richas?” Cellbit laughs, and warmth blooms in Roier’s heart at the sound.

The hatchling lets go of his hand when he and Roier are standing directly in front of each other, and Pepito finally lets go of the spider-hybrid’s, too.

Cellbit copies Roier and looks up, eyes widening slightly. But then a smile creeps onto his face, and his piercing eyes are shining in a way the lights can’t provide, in a way his husband hasn’t seen in a long while.

How the kids placed the mistletoe up there, they’re not gonna question.

Instead, their focus is on what the hatchlings added to the holiday sprig: pink amaranths.

Cellbit looks down at Richarlyson and Pepito, who have just finished a high-five and are looking extremely pleased with themselves. He quirks an eyebrow. “We’re literally married, you guys.”

Richarlyson whips out his notebook, writing with a comedic ferocity before holding it up. AND? YOUR POINT IS?

Pepito lifts his own notebook, a lot less aggressive as he bounces in place. FELIZ NAVIDAD APAS :-D

The cat-hybrid chuckles to himself, shaking his head. His attention is diverted by hands settling on his waist. Roier’s smile is soft, and he’s looking at Cellbit in a way that makes him weak, mind going pleasantly fuzzy. “Oi…”

“Hola, gatinho,” Roier murmurs.

(Satisfied, Richarlyson and Pepito slink off, giggling at the prospect of the next part of their grand plan.)

Cellbit closes the space between their bodies, one arm wrapping around his husband’s neck while the other cups his face. Roier feels a familiar coil around his leg.

The spider-hybrid spares one last glance up at the customized mistletoe before pressing their foreheads together. “Well? You gonna kiss me or what, pendejo?”

“Pendejo? With that mouth of yours?” the investigator quips.

“It’s more fun, no?”

Cellbit hums, his thumb brushing along Roier’s cheekbone. “Claro.”

And with that, Cellbit tilts his head and the distance is closed, eyes fluttering shut as they melt into the kiss.

Subconsciously, they hold each other tighter, pulling each other impossibly closer. The world fades out around them, until it’s nothing but each other.

(They’re already as close as they can get.)

(Not that the fact will stop them from trying.)

They don’t pull apart until their lungs are burning for oxygen, watching each other closely as their hearts race in their chests.

Their silent stare at each other hardly lasts a few seconds before grins are splitting their faces, foreheads pressing together as their shoulders shake with silent laughter.

But then Roier makes a sound, unable to keep quiet, and that’s all it takes for them to both fall into proper laughter. Cellbit’s head drops to his husband’s shoulder, burying it in an attempt to stifle the growing noise.

(He hears Roier through his laughter, “hijo de puta, Cellbo—”)

They rock in place until they’re finally able to calm back down and catch their breath, and Cellbit lifts his head. He moves his hands back, cupping Roier’s face in both and studying him fondly.

“Told you it was more fun,” the latter chirps, and it takes more self-control than Cellbit cares to admit to not start laughing again.

(Roier’s always been good at that: making him laugh even at the simplest of things.

Maybe it’s less Roier and more a testament to just how whipped Cellbit is. But that’s nobody’s business but his own.)

(Since day one.)

The cat-hybrid rolls his eyes, not a trace of malice to be found. “Whatever, man.”

“Ey, man, what the fuck?” Roier moves a hand from Cellbit’s waist, putting it to his heart. “You know I’m speaking facts. Pure facts.”

“Cállate, guapito.” The cat-hybrid pinches one of his cheeks.

“I have a better idea,” his husband answers.

Cellbit doesn’t even get a chance to ask before Roier’s hand is against the back of his head, threading through his hair, and their lips are pressed together once more. A little less gentle, a little more passionate, but no less perfect as it speaks the words they don’t need to.

(Te amo. Te amo. Te amo.)

(And across the way, a flustered scientist and an equally-flustered war veteran find themselves under a red-rosed mistletoe.)

(A very Merry Christmas, indeed.)

#*looks at ending* ​yknow i had to do it to ‘em #since we can’t get mistletoe spiderbit in canon I DID IT MYSELF #BC FUCK YOU CANON #slash lh #god i miss meus pais so much #qsmp cellbit #qsmp roier #spiderbit #qsmp richarlyson #qsmp pepito #qsmp #blue writes qsmp

[willowedwisteria]

⁂~The System~⁂

Summary -> The classic SAGAU plot but with a little something extra!

Note -> Yes, I know, I said I lost interest. But hey, motivation strikes you randomly. This is kind of cult, kind of SAGAU, so...

Chapter 2/Chapter 3

A game. That's what Genshin was. You say "was" because it used to be just a game to you. The memories of grinding endlessly for materials, the excitement bursting in you once you see the golden glow on your screen while wishing, how invested you were in the mountains of lore buried into just one game - that was your connection with the game at first.

Just imagine your inner shock when you found yourself basking in the shade of the massive oak tree planted in Windrise. The sunlight that beamed through the lacing of leaves had awoken you from your sleep, the calm zephyr around you felt almost comforting with the hinting smell of mints and herbs around.

Is this Genshin? You question why you even thought of that. Genshin's just a game! Yet, you could see packs of hillichurls and slimes bouncing around the vicinity.

Before you could accustom yourself to your surroundings in the state of your confusion, the world around you begins to glitch. The windrise tree you laid your back onto suddenly faded. It was pitch black with nothing around you.

The sound of a bell rang once and you saw a blue, floating digital screen appear in front of you. You carefully read the text on it.

Welcome, anomaly.

"Anomaly?" You tapped the screen.

You had appeared out of nowhere. You are not supposed to be here.

"Well, of course. I was just in bed." Another tap on the screen brought you to the following message. Weirdly, you felt like you were actually being observed like you were talking to another person.

You're too... detailed to be simply a glitch. Yet, you also seem... too human.

Who are you?

"I..." No words could form in your mouth, so you had no choice but to force them out. "I'm just a person, I guess. Oh! You can call me (Name)."

...what a straightforward answer. Nevermind. Do you know where you are?

You shake your head. "If you mean this empty space, then no. But, if you're talking about Windrise, then that's a different story."

Windrise, so you do know. Perhaps it would be easier, to be frank with you as well.

Silence suddenly erupts between you and the person using this screen to communicate with you.

What is your relationship with this world?

"I'm a player, Iike anyone else. I guess Genshin is just a way to blow off steam? Or distract me?" The screen doesn't pop up for a while.

Oh... oh! Oh dear, have I been mistreating my visitor?

The space around you begins to glitch out again. Things begin to reappear and you finally see something other than the color black. An ocean of stars gleams above you. Constellations of characters could be spotted if you looked hard enough around the vast mix of purple and blue galaxies.

Multiple blue screens spawn around you, depicting all of the different nations that you've explored.

"Do you feel comfortable?" The sound of a voice reaches your ears and you turn to see this... figure.

They looked exactly like you down to every scar, mole, tattoo, whatever. Yet, they wore different clothing. A veil of stars with a golden headpiece. They wore white, flowy clothing with details of stars with a cape. They clearly don't seem like the average person. It was sort of weird seeing someone that looked identical to you in such... expensive clothing.

"Hello, (Name)." Their voice echoed. It sounded soothing, enough for the tension in your shoulders to let go and cause them to drop. They sat down on a moon-like structure, floating it closer to you.

You felt breathless as if you were completely in awe. Your lips moved in an effort to speak. "H... hello. Who are you?"

They raise their hand to their heart, the ends of their lips curving upwards. "I am the Creator, a divine one so to speak, I am in charge of this system." Putting their hand back down onto their lap, they begin to explain.

"This world, Genshin as you like to call it, is more than just a game despite working like a game. It is a world. I control the system behind it. However, something... unexpected happened - the travelers. I did allow them to travel into my world, but I didn't expect them to lose their powers. However, it was like they had changed, personality-wise.

You were behind it, weren't you?"

You blinked a few times out of confusion, barely absorbing any of the information given to you. It made you feel dizzy.

"The traveler only had one goal, to find their sibling. Yet, they had saved nations, protected people, became a hero, and possibly got attached to Teyvat. It had to be some other being controlling them to help out so much, I don't believe they would have such a sudden... change of heart."

A gust of wind caught you before you fell. You didn't know how to respond to this deity's queries.

"It was you, right? Wasn't it?"

You stood up again, somehow regaining your balance. "Yeah. It was me." It was better to be honest, you had no idea what this... being would do to you. You shivered as their hand hovered over your shoulder, their skin felt icy cold.

"That's a relief."

Your face twisted into confusion? What? Weren't they going to like... delete you? Or what, throw you out of Teyvat? (You would honestly hope for the latter to happen)

"With your work, Teyvat has been more lively and interesting than usual. The people have advanced and changed with your interference and actions. I'm... honestly grateful.

When you first arrived as the traveler, I allowed Amber, Kaeya, and Lisa to be in your control for some time. Whilst there were some... unfortunate accidents happening, I erased their memories of your... miscalculations. You did not seem to have bad intent and you made the characters stronger and formed bonds with them. I did not sense any ill intent."

The deity reaches out their hand to you.

"How about we make an agreement? You continue with these events in your own body and I will protect you from danger. You will advance this world into a better future and you will enjoy this world to the fullest." The deity persuades you.

Despite her tempting tone and the appeal of the offer, you shake your head. "I'm sorry. I have family and friends at home that I can't just... leave behind."

"Family and friends huh?" A frown appears on their face. You're not sure if it's only because you rejecting their offer.

The deity shakes their head in dismay. "I'm sorry to tell you, but you have no way of returning back to your home, at least from what I'm aware of. There are barely any files about you to delete or transfer in this world, you are stuck here."

They continue,

"Even if there were any files of you to make use of, your world probably doesn't work like a game, so there's no way I can transfer or change anything."

It seems like you have no other choice. You can't completely trust this deity, but they still did make an attractive proposal. "How will you protect me?"

The Deity smirks. "You'll pretend to be me. You'll be the creator that's behind it all. The mastermind. The higher power. Most of the characters will be at your service. I'll try to edit the remaining files about you to change your blood color to gold so that they'll believe you. I'll talk to you through the blue screen."

"Why can't you go down and help yourself?"

"I have my hands full with operating the system. Regenerating monsters and bosses, offering treasures to those who pass the domains, and more."

"Then, what happens if the characters still don't believe me?"

"Oh, they will. Don't worry a thing about it at all. So, what do you say? Do we have a deal?" The Deity reaches out their hand to you.

You don't really have much to lose, as long as this deity keeps its promise. You shake their hand. "Deal."

Tag list -> @under-a-starry-night, @yourfaveisblack, @bardisipatos, @callmemeelah, @kithewanderingme, @pale-value, @bamboowritess/@bamboowritess, @uchihaeirin, @karmawonders, @lunavixia, @anfre109, @ly-archives, @zuyoo

#Wisteriawrites #genshin impact #genshin cult au #genshin impact cult au #cult au genshin impact #cult au genshin #cult au #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau idea #self aware genshin #genshin #genshin self aware au #genshin self aware

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

beer pong deals

pairing: chad meeks-martin x gn!reader

wc: 1.4K

warnings: drinking, swearing. thats it.

summary: a lucky charm in a game of chance

A/N: used the prompts "if i win I get to kiss you" from @ihateprompts

masterlist / chad meeks-martin

anika dragged you from your dorm to this party. you constantly tried to protest any involvement with the frat party happening on a thursday night when you had a class friday morning, a class with a test. she wouldn’t hear any of it, saying you already know the material and that you needed to take a break. shut your mind down and just have fun, drink just a little so your limbs aren’t so tense.

also she might have mentioned that chad would be there and that he’s been asking about you all day. wouldn’t leave anika alone until she promised to bring you around. and well, you might have agreed that a little study break would be nice. and anika being the fashion major she is, loves when you agree to go out so she can raid your clothes and work her magic.

you, anika, and mindy walked to the designated party house not far from campus. the three of you would switch from having discussions about the pain your professors were ringing the class through to having mindy talk about the latest horror movie she watched as she gave a quick rundown and then rated it. and just as you were three houses away…

“so my brother has the hots for you.” mindy, always with her bluntness.

a sigh knowing where this conversation is heading, “and i’ll outright say it, i like your brother.” the girls gasped. a flicker of confusion over your features, “i thought that’s what you wanted to hear.”

“well, yeah. but you said it without hesitation. so we see that this is more than simply liking, you’re infatuated.” anika’s cheeks were pushed high with her beaming smile. mindy just held a quirk to the corner of her lip, “gross as it might sound, i hope the two of you kiss. don’t get laid tonight. it’ll just ruin the romantics.”

“oh, so now i know the romantic genre is second to horror. more mindy meeks-martin lore unlocked.” joking with her as you ascended the steps and opened the front door.

the smell of weed, cigarettes, and alcohol filled your nostrils within the ten seconds you stood in the doorway. you fully regret saying yes to a party knowing these things usually just cause anxiety rather than mindless fun. but this was college, you told yourself you would try to step out of your comfort zone when presented with opportunities. anika presented the party, you stepped out of the comfort of your dorm, and now you wished to high tail it back to the small space.

“ah, ah, ah.” anika made sure to grab your forearm, already seeing the gears turning in your head. “no, you are gonna take a shot with us and then go find your boy.” tugging you along to the kitchen.

after downing a shot, well three shots, you filled a solo cup and made your rounds of the packed house trying to find the boy that calls your attention. you gave mumbled “excuse me’s” and “sorry” though no one cared as you shoved your wave into different areas. your shoulders would slump every time you didn’t find him. you told yourself if he wasn’t in the next room, you’ll look for mindy and anika then tell them you're heading home.

after more shoving, you found yourself in what appeared to be a game room or something, there was only beer pong set up with a crowd surrounding it. you journeyed closer and were able to hear the conversation over the loud music and a name catches your attention.

“chad, come on man. thought you were better than this.”

“shut up, derek. you're not doing any better.”

there were ooos that followed then they resumed their game. you leaned against a wall with your feet crossed at the ankles, not wanting to disrupt the game while it was in play. with the light dimmed you allowed yourself the pleasure of just taking in chad. the way his biceps would flex as he prepared a throw, how he did little hops on the balls of his feet from excitement or nerves. His gleaming smile showed his white teeth, or how his eyes widened and his brows rose slightly when he found you huddled away.

he clapped his partner on the back as he made his way through the crowd and came to a stop just in front of you. pushing your feet flat to the floor and standing at full height, you loosened your arms out just a bit as you shared smiles.

“i didn’t know you were coming.” he bit his lips as he tilted his head. “well, a little birdly told me you were asking for me.” trying to play coy as you took a sip of your drink. the spiked punch made you feel warm.

chad gave a deep chuckle, “anika and mindy?” a simple nod to his question. “well, i’m glad they brought you here. i actually have a favor to ask of you.”

he leaned his forearm beside your head, body moving slightly closer to yours. your eyes did a quick sweep of his body and when they landed on his face his smile grew slightly wide, probably cause he caught your wondering gaze.

“what might i get out of this favor?” voice dipping into a playful tone. watching how chad’s eyes dance across your face and made oh-so-obvious glances at your lips.

“well, first the favor is you standing by the beer pong table and being my lucky charm.” you couldn’t help the raise your brows, “lucky charm, eh? didn’t realize i was so special.”

again that charming smile caused your heart to beat a little faster. chad did a pass of the table seeing they were resetting for a new game, his eyes back to you, specifically your lips.

“and if i win… i get a kiss from my lucky charm.” his voice dropped, but he was close to your ear and you were able to hear the price he was giving.

you pretend to mull the thought over, liking the tiny hint of pleading in his eyes. “what if you lose? what do i get then?” personal space long forgotten.

“if i lose, i’ll take you on a date.” “kinda backward, isn’t it? shouldn’t you be proposing a date for winning and a kiss for losing?”

he shrugged, always suave. “either way, it’s a win-win in my books. so, my lucky charm… what do you say?”

his friends were starting to get impatient and were calling for him, or making kissing noises your way then laughing. you ignored them as the two of you got lost in each other’s eyes, fully understanding that no matter the outcome, both of you would be happy with the reward.

“okay.” you held a hand out and chad shook on it, “deals on.” with your hands still held, chad pulled the two of you to the group of rowdy boys.

“alright! me and james versus derek and paul. let’s do this!”

honestly, you got very bored of the game quickly, and who wouldn’t? boys taking turns throwing a dirty pong ball into cups of beer before chugging them clean, it’s nothing entertaining. but you wanted either of your prizes so you stayed close to chad’s side, eyes once again hungry and watchful of the way he moved. loving that he would turn to you before taking a shot and sinking it, starting to believe you actually might be his lucky charm.

last solo cup and it was chad’s turn. his friends chanted his name over and over, james gave some friendly shakes to his shoulders before stepping back. you kept a watchful eye on chad, not caring about the outcome of the game. chad’s head turned and he flashed a cocky smile, your skin felt on fire.

“ready for your prize, y/n?”

and without another word flung the ball and in a sweeping arch splashed it into the warm beer cup. chad’s side yelled in victory while the others sulked before getting more drinks.

chad held out a hand and without hesitation, you dropped yours into his and he pulled you away. he dragged you through the kitchen and out the back where not many people lounged, but didn’t stop until you were leaning against the side of the house. 

“i see you have dirty intentions, mr. meek-martin.” voice a low purr as you curled a fist into the front of his tee.

another of chad’s deep chuckles, “only with you, my lucky charm.”

his large hands held your face as he pulled you closer until your lips met. just a minute of feeling the touch of each other and mentally pumping your fist before chad started to take the lead and move his lips. it was teasingly slow and you quietly whined at the rhythm while chad just smiled into the kiss.

“needy?”

“very.”

-

#chad meeks imagine #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks martin #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks-martin #chad meeks-martain x gn!reader #chad meeks-martin fluff #scream 6 #chad meeks-martin scream 6 #chad meeks-martin scream 5 #scream 6 x reader #scream 6 imagine #scream 5 #mason gooding fluff #mason gooding scream 6 #mason gooding imagine

[vera-keller]

switchblade | masters of the air | taster pt. 2 a/n: did anyone ask for this? no lmao prepare to receive my [redacted] [redacted] anyway (lore accurate mariner quote)

It is at Thorpe Abbotts that Mariner decides coming here is functionally a grounding. Try as she reluctantly might, she simply cannot imagine herself flying a B-17. The controls are all wrong, or at least she thinks they should be. Her hand will automatically reach for the throttle that is supposed to be on her left and instead it will grasp at nothing, empty space. And when she tries to locate and operate the weapons control systems she will be immediately humbled by the reminder that she is no longer responsible for controlling the guns in this aircraft.

No, there are other people in the aircraft for that. Nine other people, in fact. Nine other people to navigate and operate the radio and fire the top turret and ball turret and so on and so forth. Her job is simply to keep the aircraft flying, the most rudimentary definition of what a pilot is.

She supposes Tillotson wasn’t spewing complete bullshit when he said that she had a particular skill set that could – the keyword being could – make her a valuable bomber pilot. And that was that she knows the vulnerabilities inherent within every bomber. If she knows these vulnerabilities, if she knows what enemy aircraft will be aiming for when they inevitably fly into an onslaught of them, then she knows how to circumvent them.

Like that’s going to happen, another voice in her head says. You can’t even do evasive manoeuvres in this toaster.

Frustrated, Mariner slams her fist down on the metal beam that she is sitting on. An officer walking in her direction flinches at the sound.

“Lieutenant Mariner?” he asks.

Mariner looks up at the insignia on his shoulders: a gold oak leaf, horizontal, stem pointing his collar. The insignia of a major. Rank has been pulled, albeit indirectly. She jumps down from the beam and salutes him.

“Sir,” she says. “Sorry for startling you.”

The major smiles politely in answer, a lopsided though somewhat guarded smile that seems to suggest tolerance. He’s young for an officer of his rank. In fact, he cannot possibly be more than a few years older than Mariner, yet he has obviously been entrusted by his superiors with a rank normally held by men who have a greater advantage of age on him. Mariner wonders what that must have taken. What buzzwords are on his resume? Strategic vision? Tactical acumen? Effective communication? Team player? Maybe, like her, he has a father who makes a habit out of overextending his influence. After all, nepotism has been here long before she was born and will continue to remain here long after she is dead. It is the beginning and the end, the first enemy and the last, et cetera.

But this officer doesn't seem to be one of those. He doesn't, for starters, wear his insignia as though it is an accessory that he knows looks better on everyone else.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m not that easily startled. But it did take me a while to find you. You were supposed to report directly to me, but I had to ask around until Lemmons helpfully told me he saw someone who might have looked a little like you head straight into the hangar.”

“Just trying to get an up close and personal look at the tin can I’ll be flying, sir.”

The major nods, as though he can understand the sentiment of a pilot wanting to evaluate a new plane to which they have been assigned, though Mariner doubts he’d understand exactly how much she despises the idea of getting into one of these things that reminds her of a bee in that neither, according to all known laws of aviation, should be able to fly. But the major doesn’t seem to be reading into it at all. Instead, he looks up at a nearby B-17, and Mariner instinctively follows his gaze. The same aircraft she has spent the past ten minutes disparaging in every measurable way, shape and form in her head, and imagining herself shooting down in aerial combat, which would have been an amusing pastime were she not going to be piloting one of these planes herself. Yet he’s looking at it as though it’s an old friend.

“That’s no tin can, Mariner. That’s a B-17. She’s not as sleek or nimble as a fighter, but she’s sturdy, reliable and strong, and she can take a beating like no other. I couldn’t ask for a better plane to fly in. You just transferred from the 157th?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve seen your records. You’re a solid Mustang pilot. You might find it harder to get used to the B-17 than I did, but she’ll grow on you. I’m Major Gale Cleven.”

“Olivia Mariner.”

Belatedly Mariner remembers that Cleven absolutely knows who she is already. Even through the embarrassment, however, she can appreciate the fact that if he is aware of the real reason for her reassignment, he’s consciously choosing not to mention it. She looks back up at the B-17 and tries to see it the way she imagines Cleven must, a literal flying fortress, but all she can think is that it is an ugly aircraft that is much too large to the point where its largeness looks like a mistake.

“You said she can take a beating, sir?” she asks, knocking on the aluminium.

“She certainly can. She’s earned her reputation for toughness, that’s for sure.” He reaches out, swipes his hand along the nose of the aircraft, as though wiping away dust that has collected there in a familiar gesture. “She’s designed to withstand heavy enemy fire and still deliver her payload while bringing her crew home safely.”

Mariner nods sceptically, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies the bomber. “Okay, so she can tank enemy fire. But can she evade it altogether? That’s what’s going to make all the difference when it comes to bringing the crew back.”

Cleven offers a knowing smile at Mariner’s bluntness, as though he has long figured out that she would ask that question sooner or later, and it is clear she has opted for sooner. “She’s no Mustang, Mariner, but she’s no slouch either. If you want to manoeuvre the B-17, you have to go easy on the yoke. Besides, when you’re in a formation flying together, you have the strength of numbers. Each pilot requires both practice and discipline to maintain formation, and when you’re out there in the air, everyone watches each other’s back. That’s how we fly our missions and that’s how we come back in one piece. All of us, together.”

And there it is. The inevitable cattle prod in her side. This conversation is getting a little pointed for Mariner’s liking now, considering the reason she was bumped out of her former squadron was supposedly because of her inability to adhere to a formation. She wonders if Cleven knows this already, whether Tillotson has included some kind of addendum on her report about her apparent Achilles’ heel as a fighter pilot. Excellent, Tillotson, she thinks irately to herself. You can’t get me to stay in a formation, so you put me in an aircraft where I’ll literally die if I don’t. Very well played. Have you been taking lessons from my father? Maybe the two of you should sit down together for a drink sometime and discuss all the many methods you might choose to employ for colossally fucking up my life. Dickheads. But she does not say any of this. Instead she asks, in a perfectly calm and even tone of voice that a perfectly calm and even individual might use, “Who will I be flying with?”

“We’re putting together a crew for you,” Cleven tells her. “Rest assured. You won’t be integrating into the unit alone.”

Then he pauses for a brief moment, glancing up at the B-17. “As a pilot, you’ll learn to appreciate her strengths,” he says. “She’s resilient and a force to be reckoned with. And in the end, it’s not about the plane you fly, but how you fly it. Wouldn’t you agree, Lieutenant Mariner?”

Mariner considers this. Her gaze drifts from Cleven to the B-17 obfuscating her peripheral vision that is almost certainly going to be the death of her within the next six months, but she actually thinks about Cleven’s words. Superior officers tend to attempt to get through to her in one of two ways: either through the carrot or the stick. Neither works on her: she sees through the carrot immediately – thereby also identifying a superior officer that is more interested in placating his men than leading them – and any and all stick wielders are classified as delusional self-important men throwing tiny-fisted tantrums and asserting themselves through the little power they are afforded by the chain of command, thereby immediately and permanently losing her respect. Tillotson falls in the third category of simply being annoying. Yet Cleven doesn’t seem to fall in any prescribed category. This could simply mean he’s better than others at concealment. But it could also mean he doesn’t see her as something to be managed. 

“You’re right, sir,” she says, pale blue eyes appraising the aircraft with a measuring gleam. “I think I know exactly how I’m going to fly this.”

Cleven actually cracks a smile. “That’s the spirit, but maybe you should take her out for a test flight before you get too sure of yourself. I’ve booked you in for three hours this afternoon. Come by the hangar at 1500. We’ll see if you can get her into the air.”

Mariner nods, a single dip of the chin downward. “Trust me, I can do much more than get her into the air.”

“Good,” Cleven says. “Because that’s what the Krauts are gonna be expecting. Why don’t you go get yourself set up? Irvine will show you your room and get all the admin sorted out. Report to the hangar at 1500 sharp. And Mariner?”

“Sir?”

“Try not to beat up the metal beams too much while you’re in here. The acoustics in the hangar aren’t exactly forgiving in terms of the echo. A lesser man might have pissed himself.”

The corners of Mariner’s lips lift into an almost imperceptible smile. She’s not going to tempt Cleven to thinking she’s actually warming up to him, of course, even though she appreciates that he seems to be allowing her the courtesy of a clean slate, something that should be frustrating her instead because she hasn’t done anything that has warranted the necessity of a clean slate in the first place. Being reassigned to the 100th is miserable enough without a superior officer like Tillotson trying to turn every patrol briefing into a veritable circlejerk. But Cleven isn’t Tillotson, and Mariner’s almost imperceptible smile seems to be enough for him already, because he takes the hint and smiles back – politely but not clinically – and walks away as though this interaction has been the most natural thing in the world for him.

Huh. Perhaps she now has, for the first time in her three-year career, a superior officer she can actually get along with.

Left to her own devices, Mariner looks resentfully up at the B-17s, their cumbersome-looking metallic bodies glinting with rays of sunlight that come in from the open sides of the hangar and reflect off the painted aluminium. They look back down at her, unblinking.

Whoever was responsible for designing the shape of their noses should be shot, Mariner thinks. The entire structure is an area of stress concentration. Any impact applied to it would lead to mass structural failure across the entire aircraft, not to mention that it would instantly kill the bombardier. Why is the bombardier stationed in the nose section anyway? She reaches out a hand, runs it along the nose as Cleven had done earlier, and feels no additional affection for the aircraft as she absently imagined she might have done. 

It’s the pilot. Not the plane. Mariner repeats this to herself like a mantra, as though the act of repetition might somehow will the statement into becoming reality. A part of her finds it to be a frustrating restriction: if she fails to master the controls of a B-17 then it would be entirely on her, a reflection of the limitations in her abilities as a pilot. It would give Cleven ammunition to use against her if he so wishes, and she doesn’t like the idea of giving anyone any kind of ammunition to use against her.

But another part of her challenges this assumption. It’s all in your hands, she thinks. Exactly how you want it. You alone control this aircraft. Just you. You decide whether it rolls or turns, whether it pulls up or dives, how to operate it to best meet situational needs. You decide whether its purpose is to simply tank enemy fire or if you can turn it into what you want it to be.

She might as well train herself to start thinking this way; she doesn’t have much of a choice otherwise. Fortunately for her, she’s already figured out an alarming plethora of ways she could shoot a B-17 down. Now her role is to defend it. More than defend it: her role is to evolve it. Cleven is right. The B-17 would never come close to a P-51. But while aircraft cannot change their structural components, the pilot is at perfect liberty to change their tactics, and it’s convenient that doing so is the mark of a good pilot anyway, which she is. Exactly how non-manoeuvrable is the B-17 anyway? She privately hopes that Cleven is actually right, that the aircraft is unbreakable. Because whatever doesn’t break will bend.

If I can’t find a way, then the others definitely have no chance, she thinks to herself. And then, Jesus Christ, shut the hell up, Mariner. This is no time to get cocksure. You haven’t even gotten in the aircraft yet.

Mariner pauses.

She looks up at the B-17 in front of her. At the hangar full of B-17s in front of her. Unmanned. Fuselage and bomb bay doors in plain sight. Exterior steps attached.

Unless…?

A full crew of ten is not needed to fly the B-17, surely. Any plane can get off the ground with just the pilot alone. Especially a pilot like her who is accustomed to flying single-engine single-seat fighters, where – once you’re up in the air – there’s no one to help you. Besides, how different can the controls be, anyway? They’re all the same in every aircraft. Elevator, ailerons, rudder, throttle, trim tabs. She could make her way around the controls in her sleep. A small, determined smile curves her lips.

She’s taken off and landed successfully more than a hundred times. She’s a lieutenant and an ace pilot. She’s served in both the RAF and the USAAF on a technicality, and operated multiple different fighter aircraft while she’s at it. She’s hardly a fresh-faced flight school graduate; she doesn’t have to wait for Cleven’s supervision for a simple test flight. In fact, Cleven will probably appreciate that she’s showing initiative and actually making an effort to integrate into the 100th. Maybe if he relays a glowing report of her back to Tillotson – fuck that bitch, Mariner thinks, but he’s still her superior officer – he might expedite her reassignment back to a fighter squadron. Where she belongs. Maybe she’ll even get to have her old P-51 back.

With that in mind, she steps up into the B-17 before her, mindful of the bulkheads as she ducks into the cockpit and slides deftly into the pilot seat. The flight controls and instrument panel look similar enough to that of a P-51. Engine gauges, altimeters, attitude indicators, turn coordinators, compasses, throttle quadrant, the usual assemblage. Everything needed to get this tin can, which she must now grow accustomed to as her designated aircraft for the next several months, up into the air. She can figure them out in no time.

So she sets the fuel selector valves. Checks the propeller pitch controls, like she has done countless times before.

And she cranks the engine.

–

“Sir?”

Gale Cleven looks up from the report wedged behind the cylinder of the typewriter on the desk before him at Master Sergeant Ken Lemmons, who stands in the doorway of his office, his breaths coming out in short, shallow gasps, his face overwrought with evident distress. Cleven pauses, his brows furrowing.

“What is it?”

“Lieutenant Mariner? The new pilot?” Lemmons’s face is white with panic.

“Yeah, I just spoke to her in the hangar. What happened?”

A hint of reluctance washes over Lemmons’s features, as though he is still privately hoping very much that he won't have to be the person to relay this information. But he eventually speaks.

“Sir, Lieutenant Mariner crashed a B-17 on the runway.”

And then Gale's day takes a rapid turn for the worse.

#to be continued obviously #series: switchblade #oc: olivia mariner #remember when i said olivia mariner is an unreliable narrator #mhm mhm #masters of the air #masters of the air x oc #gale cleven #tagging buck even though he's made one (1) appearance so far once again for ad revenue generation purposes #was i projecting nate fick onto him? i sure was

[starleska]

I am definitely here to find out more about your OC Harper if you wanna share 👀👀👀

oh my god yes yes yes thank you so much Jam i would LOVE to gush about Harper Spiel and their bizarre backstory, thank you so much 🙈💖 Doctor Who OCs are so fun to make!

my dear Harper's story begins right after the events of The Giggle! Harper Spiel is a 26-year-old ludologist, or games specialist: a former world champion in several board games who turned their fascination with games into a lucrative career. previously they worked with the British government investigating high-profile gambling rings and other criminal operations which involved gameplay mechanics! 👀

following The Giggle, UNIT wanted to find out all they could about the Toymaker, and so they hired Harper to create a full report on him...against The Doctor's wishes, and without his knowledge. during their research, Harper discovers that the Toymaker is not an isolated incident: he has cropped up in gaming lore and texts throughout history as a godlike entity no one can win against. most people would steer well clear...but Harper takes this as a challenge 🔥 so, they begin a series of experiments with the Toymaker's Toybox. Harper spends weeks trying to engage the Toymaker without opening the box, attempting to coax him into a game, but comes up short. until they have a mad idea! on their birthday, Harper brings a sand timer to the Toybox, and challenges the Toymaker to emerge before the sand runs out. they have no way of knowing if the game is accepted... until a bang!! then, a flash of light...and the vague image of a grin with far too many teeth, beaming through the fog. when Harper awakes, they are no longer in their own timeline. they are in 1984, in an empty lot where the UNIT building hasn't even been constructed yet! 😱 it takes a few days for the Doctor - specifically the Sixth Doctor - to find Harper, and it's because the TARDIS has become absolutely fixated on London in 1984 and he can't work out why. this leads him to Harper, who the Doctor recognises as a temporal anomaly: a living entity displaced in time who should not be able to exist in this reality, but has been rejected by their own. according to the Doctor, Harper's birthday - originally March 22nd, 1998 - is now March 22nd, 1956...which would make them 65 years old according to their original reality!! if not...that means they're minus 40 💀 the Doctor, horrified by this mess, takes Harper into the TARDIS and tries to bring them back to 2024...but the TARDIS nearly implodes! he then tries every workaround he knows, but something about the game Harper opened up with the Toymaker has caused their own timeline to shun them. like it or not, the only safe place for Harper to exist (at least without increasing timey-wimey shenanigans) is within the TARDIS 😉 so!! Harper gets stuck with the Sixth Doctor, to his chagrin and their delight. Harper is familiar with the Doctor, but only his most recent regenerations, and they take delight in playing off his bombastic, arrogant personality. they're always getting stuck into some part of the TARDIS they shouldn't be, or wandering off and nearly causing a category 5 space-time event. they're a magnet for disaster and time distortion, and it drives the Doctor mad! 🙈 but as funny as their relationship is, there is real grief here. the Doctor soon recognises Harper to be somewhat like him: a scientist whose fascination often overrides their emotions, so the process of understanding that they will never see their friends again (as they have no family to speak of) is tough. it doesn't take long for the Doctor to soften towards Harper...after all, Harper is something which the universe itself is trying to reject. who can relate more to that than the Sixth Doctor, whose regeneration was characterised by fear, anger and feeling like an alien in his own body? aaaand that's Harper Spiel!! unwitting companion to the Sixth Doctor and challenger of the Toymaker 🥰 their adventures would be characterised by them attempting to find some way back to Harper's original timeline safely, with Harper insisting they need to find the Toymaker to make it happen...😭

#giggles oh i love making Doctor Who OCs. everyone should do it!!! thanks so much for asking about Harper 🙈 #also yes - Harper's birthday (dd/mm) and the time they get yeeted back to (dd/mm/yyyy) is the start of Colin Baker's tenure as the Doctor 😉 #i needed a ridiculous character to ship with both of my favourites okay and THIS WAS THE COMPROMISE #doctor who oc #harper spiel #the doctor x oc #the toymaker x oc #sixspiel #toyspiel #sixth doctor #6th doctor #the doctor #the toymaker #doctor who #dw #starleskasks #starleskawrites #long post

[boundinparchment]

Dream a Little Dream of Me - IX

Celestia has a cruel sense of humor. He’s always known this, ever since his days as a student. But a soulmate? Really? Dottore/Female Reader Soulmate AU. Expect lore speculation, interpretations, etc. Available on AO3 as well.

The space opened up above you as the elevator rose to the top, blue light powering down and signifying you were free to step off.  You did so, your neck craned back all the while to take in the domed glass ceiling and the sweeping architecture supporting it.  Light from the morning sun, higher in the sky now, poured down and painted the floor with vibrant hues.  The polished marble floor reflected the beams to create tiny rainbows about the room.

A baptism of light.

Briefly, you wondered what it was like at night, when the stars peered out from behind the clouds.

Everything you’d seen thus far of Sumeru City was stunning.  Granted, you were still here for work , and this was likely the most you’d see of the Akademiya, but it was awe-inspiring nonetheless.

Just as you were about to turn around and take in the entire space, you heard a high-pitched whine.  You caught sight of a glowing needle and dodged just in time to avoid the beam.  The spot where you just stood was charred and smoking, a piece of marble now missing from the floor where the impact cracked the stone.  You glanced in the direction the shot came from and found that the needle was but one of four, now floating over a feathery mantle.

You drank him in, torn between your fight-or-flight instincts and the knowledge that the man before you was tied to you with a red string of fate.  Even with the top half of his face covered, you couldn’t help but admire his jawline, the curve of his lips, the certainty with which he carried himself.  The smirk from earlier was still present but his shoulders were pulled too far back; it wasn’t his usual demeanor, or what you recalled of it, which meant something was off .  But you couldn’t put your finger on what…

“For an allogene, your reflexes are quite slow,” he said.

Before you could finish another thought, the floating needles glowed again and you unceremoniously leapt backwards.  One shot, and then another, and another, the whine and release of power becoming a familiar rhythm to you both as you moved about the room in a bizarre tango. 

“A Vision without your weapon is as good as useless, isn’t it?”

One more shot, this time just narrowly missing your ear.  You ducked to the side just in time, hand darting to your head.  You drew yourself up and pulled your hand away, finding it free of blood.  He hadn’t even scratched you.

In a series of small flashes, the floating needles disappeared, emerging as a gold and tanzanite claymore that he willed away with the wave of a hand.

You’d never learned how to do that.  It was much easier than carrying your own claymore with you every step of the way but you never really saw the need before.

Until now.

Of all things shared between you, you wielded the same weapon class.  That was unexpected.

“Nice to meet you, too,” you muttered.  “I’ve gone over this in my head a thousand times but wow .”

You didn’t exactly expect rainbows and sunshine and sweetness.  You understood his temperament well enough from years of dream-sharing to know better than that.  Perhaps something like last night would have made sense but…an immediate challenge?

“A dreamscape wouldn’t provide the same kind of environment,” he said, folding his arms behind his back and strolling across the room, towards you.  “It would be too easy to circumvent even the most basic combat abilities with a mere thought.  The results would be quite skewed and fail to prove much of anything except how imaginative one is.”

Was that meant to be an apology?  Anywhere else, anyone else, you might understand.  But Harbinger or not, he couldn’t just wield his weapon so freely.  

“And the middle of the Akademiya was a better idea?” you shot back, looking up at him.  Even in the waking world, you couldn’t see his eyes, the top half of his face obscured by a literal mask.  “If anyone saw us, they’d swear you were trying to kill me.”

You saw his shoulders shake before you heard the low laugh, rich and full, his lips curling into a smile that was just a bit unsettling.  Too wide, you thought.  The same kind you wore when meeting with rich and powerful donors and patrons; your face would ache for hours afterwards.  There was a twitch of cruelty to the corners of his mouth.

“See, imaginative.  For all the research I’ve done, our dreams are still an environment controlled by both of us.  Unsuitable for such an experiment.”

You shook your head slowly.  He was always one for pushing limits, pushing people, eeking out every last bit of data.  He’d gone through project after project with you, bounced ideas off of your subconscious, often with striking outcomes he was all too excited to show you.

“Even in reality, you’re so focused on results,” you murmured.  “Then again, you’re not one for mediocrity, are you, Fatui Harbinger?”

It wasn’t polite but considering how disdainfully he’d spoken last night, how he’d immediately put you on your toes, you didn’t exactly care .  His status and occupation didn’t matter, no, but it was the kind of thing partners of any kind told one another.  And he could have at least provided you with a reason.

“I don’t need to explain myself to someone who cannot even summon their weapon from its resting place.”

Ouch.  Well, you deserved that one, you supposed.

It was still too quiet here, you realized.  Wasn’t this the main way to access additional administrative offices?  How was it that only you two were the only ones around?

“Where…is everyone?” you asked, unable to bring yourself to tear your gaze away from the covered face in front of you.

Now that he was closer, you were able to take in details you never truly saw in your dreams.  The width of his shoulders, his presence solid and powerful.  You caught a faint scent of mint, maybe sandalwood, and the burning undertone of hot metal, like a Fontaine foundry.  Not exactly what you’d expected from a Fatui Harbinger but it suited him.

“Access to this floor is already limited, although easily bypassed, as you’re no doubt aware.  I’m currently running a test on Akasha limitations and override capabilities.  We have roughly ten minutes.”

Your brow creased at the idea of the Akasha being used in reverse, to control people, not data.  Then again, he’d managed to give you full permissions of an employee, you shouldn’t have been so surprised.  If it wasn’t so eerie, you would have marveled at the accomplishment.

More importantly, however, he anticipated you.  That you would not only come back, but that you would want to go up the elevator, confront him.  In other circumstances, the notion seemed quite sweet, but your soulmate was proving to be quite the strategist in addition to an inventor.

Before you could ask, he said, “You do have a tendency to dig your heels in when you are enraptured by something and wish to understand it, regardless of what others think.  We are alike in that.”

A gloved hand reached out and brushed your ear, the same one he previously aimed for, before plucking the Akasha terminal from your person.  He clicked his tongue before he dropped the piece of technology and crushed it beneath his heel, the device making an audible crunch.

“This place is filled with nothing but sheep who have been taught to not think for themselves.  The Akasha is half of the reason.”

Only half?  What else could there be in the land of wisdom, you wondered, that was on par with an accusation of a lack of critical thought.

His tone was soft but bore a harshness that indicated he clearly had something else on his tongue; he stopped, his mouth twisted in disgust.  You wanted nothing more than to reach up and cup his cheek, urge the expression off his lips in favor of something brighter.  He had such a lovely smile when it was genuine, even though you’d only caught it a handful of times.

But time was short.  Every second of silence was another grain of sand, slipping through your fingers. 

“I have more questions than ten minutes can cover,” you admitted.  “I don’t even know what to call you.”

If you got nothing else out of this moment, you would at least have a name, right?

You watched the grimace untwist itself from his lips as he reached out and brushed stray locks of hair from your ear, perhaps displaced by his removal of the Akasha.  He hesitated pulling away before his arm slid back down and behind his back, joining the other one again.

“For now, ‘The Doctor’ will suffice.”

#dottore #il dottore #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #dottore x female reader #il dottore x female reader #genshin impact reader insert #soulmate au

[neonacity]

ARCANE : INIZIO | CH.7 | NCT DREAM X READER

Summary: When human deviants granted with the abilities of the legendary Arcana cards find themselves racing against devious forces, they are left to make a choice that might change the fate of the world itself: be the victims of the game, or become the masters of it themselves.

But will this war end with a crowned hero?

Or will it just create another mad villain?

*****

Note: This is the second book of Arcane. The happenings in this story is a prequel to the first installment which you can check in my Masterlist. Since the lore is highly dependent on the first book, I highly suggest you check it out first—otherwise, new readers might have a hard time understanding what is happening here. Expect lots of time jumps and flashbacks throughout the chapters.

Pairings: Dream 00’ Line + Mark x Reader

Trigger Warnings/Themes: romance, violence, torture, trauma, poly dynamics, suggestive themes, language, psychological, mystery, sci-fi. The concept of the tarot or Arcana cards will be loosely used throughout the series. Note that I am not a trained doctor so there may be some slips here and there about medical things. Again, this is a work of fiction and I am not implying any likeness between the characterization here of the boys to their real life counterparts. I also reserve the rights to all my work—I do not post anywhere else other than tumblr. Minors DNI. Please do not repost. I only publish my works in Tumblr.

© neonacity, 2022

Chapter Song: Before the Dawn | Evanescence

Previously > CH. 1 | CH.2 | CH.3 | CH.4 | CH.5 | CH.6

The soft, soulful notes of the grand piano teased the edges of your consciousness like the whisper of a lover. 

You have no idea what time it is when you managed to open your eyes, but the first thing that registered to you as you stirred from your sleep were the beams of moonlight that pierced the darkness of your room. It took you a couple of quiet seconds to prop yourself up from your bed, eyes drifting towards the direction of the music as you tried to gather your bearings. Beside you, the glowing handle of the clock on your desk struck 2AM.

The cold feel of the floor seeped into your skin when you pulled the blankets off of you and finally swung your legs over the side of the bed. The hymn floating in between the cracks of your door was beautiful, but there was something about the way the notes danced around each other that made the deepest parts of your chest throb dully. For some reason, it stirred great sadness in you, so you didn't give it a second thought to pull on your night robe and step out into the hallway to find its source. You know exactly where to go… And in a way, who you will find at the end of it.

His back was on you the moment you stepped into the room. It was dark, with only the light of the moon peeking from the high window providing illumination to the almost empty space. It was enough for you, however, to make out his strong back contrasted by the graceful features of his profile. His lean fingers continued dancing across the piano keys and you decided to stop just on the edge of the hallway to watch him from a distance.

"Aren't you cold?"

You weren't surprised at all when he addressed you, his low voice braiding through the notes of the hymn he was playing. He still hasn't looked at you, but you still gave a slight shake of your head in answer.

"That's a very beautiful piece you are playing."

"Did I wake you up?"

"You did. And I think you did it intentionally, too."

The way the corner of his lips slightly curved into a small smile made you tighten your fingers around yourself. You wanted to reach out to him, touch his face, and pull him over to you all at once. You might as well have screamed your thoughts out loud because Mark finally turned to look at you, his gaze gentle and open.

"Come here?"

Your first instinct was to keep your ground, but the side of you that wanted him close got the best of you in a heartbeat. Stepping away from the shadows, you went straight to him, his arms already opening for you before you even settled beside him. You melted into his embrace, fingers treading through his hair as he pressed his nose against the crook of your neck. You frowned and closed your eyes at the contact, the heavy feeling that you didn't even know you've been lugging around for the past couple of days leaving your chest like smoke. 

"Don't do that to me again. I thought you left me," you half whispered to keep your voice steady. You felt him sigh against your skin.

"I'm sorry… I needed some time alone."

"Do you hate me?"

Mark shook his head before letting you go just enough so he could see your face. You didn't even realize the tears brimming in your eyes until he reached out to catch them before they fell with his rough fingers.

"I could never hate you."

"But I…"

His smile fell a little as he gave a slight laugh.

"I admit the rejection hurt. I needed time to compose myself again. I wasn't really at my best when we talked so I had to distance myself a little."

"Mark, I'm sorry…"

The way his gaze probed your face now made a twisting tightness bloom in your chest again. It was the same way he had always looked at you, but now with a shade of honesty that he never had before. 

"You shouldn't. You made me realize something after all."

Your throat felt tight, but you managed to speak.

"What?"

"That you love me. And that the way you also love the others doesn’t change that."

Your heart squeezed in your chest.  You wanted to answer him, give him confirmation, but the way he looked at you told you that he didn’t need any of that assurance anymore. Instead, you leaned your cheek against the hand he raised to cup your face, eyes never leaving his. When he smiled at you again, you knew right then and there that the two of you will no longer be able to go back from all the pretending that provided you safety before. This was a man who had stopped himself from holding back because for the first time, he was finally standing in the same spot you’ve always been at. 

For once, none of you are afraid.

“Are you back for real this time? I asked the others and they said you were gone for days. Nobody knew where you went.”

A look of recall quickly crossed his features at your question. He almost seemed a bit guilty, but you knew there was more to it than he was letting on. You could feel dread at the back of your throat, but waited for him to take his time to answer.

“I didn’t really leave because of our conversation. There was something I was trying to figure out.”

“What?”

“Who the traitor is behind all of this.”

You paused. Mark's gaze never wavered from yours and you could see the clear frustration from the set of his brows.

“Did you find out anything?”

“Not much. I could have done it easier with the help of my father but I—” he stopped, a hard look flashing in his eyes momentarily. “I know he is supportive of the Headmaster’s decision for all of us to go into hiding. He wouldn’t help me even if I beg him to. I was able to get access to some reports of the investigation that our family have been doing though. Whoever is coming after us must come from an advanced technology corporation. They—”

“It’s Cypher Institute, isn’t it?”

Mark froze in his seat, his gaze one of surprise before it morphed into confusion.

“How did you know that?”

“Jaemin and I snooped around in my father’s office while he was gone and someone called him about it. It was a coincidence. Was it the same Institute that you were able to confirm from your father’s side?”

The way Mark’s expression changed in just a matter of seconds slowly made an uncomfortable feeling bloom in your gut. It was what he said next, however, that really threw you off.

“My father is not aware about Cypher Institute.”

You frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“He had leads but none of the files I cross-checked had any mention of Cypher. And I looked at everything, I am sure of it. Whoever gave that information to your father is not from our family.”

The silence that wrapped the two of you was brief but heavy with meaning. There were so many questions that came to mind but it was Mark who managed to voice out the most pressing thing you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

“Do you know any other family that your father could be working with?”

You shook your head slightly.

“He does work with everyone. The Kim’s are one when he asked Mijeong to watch over me while I was in university, and I’m sure he also had agreements with the families of the other Masters. I’ve always thought that he shares a lot of his plans to your father though… Especially anything related to this threat. It was the Lee's who saved him from the latest ambush after all. It wouldn’t make sense for him to ask another family to look into things over your father…”

It took a while for Mark to finally say something as he processed that. Your throat felt dry, and you could almost feel your hand locked with his slowly grow cold.

“It would make sense. If he doesn’t fully trust my father.”

His words hung thick in the air. You didn’t know what to say, especially with him saying what you couldn’t put into words. There was something about Junho Lee that has always bothered you, but he is also Mark’s family and for that, you still provided the man a level of respect even from a distance. Still, you knew that one of your father’s reasons for trusting him stands on shaky ground—you just didn’t expect for the distrust to run this deep.

“Do you think… He can do that?”

Mark’s jaw tightened at the question. You could see the fight going inside of him so clearly that you almost felt bad for asking.

“He's a very ambitious man. I was still very young when I lost my mom, but I remember enough to know that he was never really the same after what happened. Still, he is the only other family that I have and…”

“And it is absolutely alright if you want to believe in him,” you gently interjected by giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Mark pursed his lips and he shifted his gaze away from you, his expression torn and pained.

Just like you, Mark’s life was greatly affected by what happened in the past. Fate dealt him bad cards, and for that you can’t really blame him for wanting to stand up for things he wants to believe in. You would do the same if you were in his place; choose to stand by your father before anything and anyone else. 

It took a moment before he finally seemed to break from his thoughts. Gaze following him, he reached out for something in his pocket before finally offering his open palm to you. It was dark so it took you a moment to realize what you were looking at, but your lips were soon enough parting wordlessly as he moved to open the small blue velvet box he was holding carefully. 

Lying nestled in black satin, catching the light of the moon, was a deep blue diamond ring framed with smaller clear gems on its sides. It looked ornate but well-loved, like a star that had fallen in the middle of a dark night. Your eyes widened as you stared at it, Mark’s silence in contrast to the sudden loud beating of your heart.

“What…”

“It’s my mother’s wedding ring. My father gave it to me when he told me about his plan of us getting married.”

“Mark… I…”

Your voice sounded so full of guilt, but he gently cut you off by pressing the box against your palm.

“Relax, I am not proposing to you,” he said in a tone that made you pause. “I told you that I understand where you stand now. I am not going to force you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.”

You swallowed, but let him continue. 

“But we can’t deny how dangerous it is right now. There is a traitor in our family and it could be anyone, including my father. I won’t blame you if you can’t find it in you to trust us right now, but my family can give you protection, regardless of who is the person who betrayed us. Even if it was him, I think he will spare you if we make him believe that you’re engaged to me.”

“What makes you think he will make an exception for me, Mark? If it really was him, and he was willing to sell the rest of the Masters, then he can betray anyone.”

“No. Not you.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

The way you paused gave Mark the chance to really look at you, his eyes roaming your face. You were at a loss for words, and he used that as his window to continue with a gentle voice that made your chest hurt.

“My father can be ambitious and cruel, I admit that, but he knows how to honor love when he sees it. He was hit hard when he lost my mom, but I don’t think he is going to punish you and me for what happened. He will also gain nothing if he hurts you over us being engaged and making our bloodline stronger.” 

“I hate to say this, but it’s the reality we’re living in right now,” he continued. “I can protect you if you choose to continue your life as a Master. It’s that or you move away and cut off all connections with us. Follow what your father has always wanted for you and live like a normal human.”

You slowly shook your head as the weight of his words fully sunk in. You’ve always known this… Everything Mark is saying right now have always been the choices given to you. Not once have you accepted them though, especially with your only other option being to exile yourself from the Family and never see any of them for the rest of your life again.

“So are you saying that we should… tell everyone that we will get married?”

Mark’s gaze dropped before he gave a slight nod.

“Yes. At least while we haven’t figured out who the real traitor is. If they see that we’re both onboard, I don’t think they’ll rush us to it. We can buy ourselves some time.”

You were quiet. Your eyes found the ring again, a testament to a different promise made years ago. After a moment, Mark reached over and closed the box before guiding your fingers to close around it.

“You don’t need to give me an answer right now, but I want you to keep it. Even if we won’t get married, you’re the only woman who I want to have it.”

Your thumb ran over the soft plush of the velvet cover. A few seconds passed before you felt him gently hold your chin to guide you to look at him again.

“I’ll do anything and everything just so we could get to the bottom of this. Whatever happens though, I want you to know…”

“That I will never ever betray you. My life is yours.”

Time seemed to have stopped, the same way your heart did. He looked at you with nothing but bare honesty laid out and you received it, unafraid this time. A cloud shifted outside, and the next moment, you two met in the middle, lips soft against each other. It was a simple kiss, but one that you knew was long overdue. When you pulled away, you whispered softly against him, only loud enough for him to hear.

“I know. I believe you.”

******* “Come in.”

You have barely raised your hand to knock when your father’s clear voice sounded from the inside of his office. The antic would have been amusing if this were any normal day, but instead you found yourself slightly hesitating before finally pushing the door open. He wasn’t looking at you when you stepped into his room, his gaze set instead on reviewing a stack of documents laid out across his table.

“Are you busy?”

It was a rhetorical question at this point, but still, the man’s lips twitched into a small smile as he finally looked at you from over the rim of his wired glasses. He looked unhurt, but the dark shadows under his eyes betrayed how his last couple of days have been.

“Even if I am, I will always have time for you, Princess.”

You didn’t want to immediately soften after that, but you couldn’t help the way your eyes shifted sideways as a reaction. Your father, of course, noticed, and chuckled as a response.

“So? Is there anything wrong?”

Your shoulders slumped a little before you answered. To be honest, you didn’t really plan for anything when you decided to see him today. All you know is that you’re glad to see him again after he had been in and out of the Academy for the past few days, especially since you haven’t really talked after your argument. The way his eyes sparkled behind his glasses now made you think that he already has an idea why you’re here, but the man kept his silence to give you the room to open it up yourself.

“I wanted to apologize… For some of the things I have said last time.”

“Apology accepted. I want to do the same, since I have realized why my decision warranted that kind of reaction.”

Immediately, it felt like a part of the heaviness in your chest lifted. You remained standing in your spot though, your gaze open as you searched his face.

“Did you change your mind? About me and Mark?”

A pause.

“No, my dear. My stand remains the same. And you?”

You didn’t hesitate to answer.

“No… I am still against it.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything else to counter you. Your father can be as headstrong as he is, but he also knows how to draw boundaries, at least temporarily. What you said next, however, is something he definitely did not expect.

“Mark and I talked though,” you added as you tried your best to work through the lump in your throat. Ever since that night with him, you’ve sat with your thoughts to consider every angle of the situation. You still don’t have a decision, but it would be unfair to lie to your father about what has happened since.

“We… still do not have an answer right now. But we are considering things.”

It was quite hard to gauge whether he was relieved about it or not, but he gave you a slight smile after his pause of silence.

“That’s enough for me. Thank you, darling. Now, do you want to sit? I know you came here to tell me more than just that. At least try to relax a little.”

You hesitated only for a little bit before finally giving in and settling on the chair across his desk. Now that you’re closer, you could better see the lines on his face, proof that the last few days haven’t been easy on him.

“I found out who was after us. I heard it from a call… While you were gone.”

“I know.”

You shot him a guilty look.

“Are you mad?”

The question made him laugh. “Honey, I would be even more surprised if you didn’t snoop around to find out things on your own. Let me guess, did Mark come with you?”

“No. Jaemin did.”

“Mm. As expected from Mr. Na. That young man's loyalty to you is fiercer than his strongest fear.”

“Why is Cypher after us, Papa?”

You didn't know if he was taken aback by your straightforwardness or not, but the moment you asked, a shadow of emotion you couldn’t quite understand flitted over his features. It was fast, but it was enough for you to understand that he knows something more than he is letting on. At first you thought he would avoid the question, but then the light in his eyes shifted again, almost as if he was looking inward to himself.

"It's human nature to crave power. Cypher, unfortunately, is one of those willing to meddle with it."

"Do you have any idea what it is that they want from us? Even with what they have, it is impossible for them to tap into the abilities of the Arcana. Manmade resources have no chance against us."

The pause from him was loaded. The man leaned on his desk now, shoulders slightly slouched as he took off his glasses and pressed the bridge of his nose. You almost wanted to reach out to him, but he seemed on the verge of breaking at the slightest touch. A flash of uninvited memory took over you, and it was then you realized that you've seen him like this before. Once, a long time ago when you were younger…

Back when your mother died.

"I wish I knew. It's hard to go against an enemy without understanding how they could possibly hurt you, but I am sure of one thing. They're dangerous. If there's something even more powerful than greed, it's hatred, and  Cypher… has both towards us. Whatever happens, we can't let them get to us. To any of you."

His words slowly sank like dull blades into your skin. There was something lurking behind his statements, a confession hidden in plain sight. You hated how you're piecing things together slowly, how you're realizing that there is possibly more to this than just going against an enemy.

"What do you mean about them hating us?" You asked softly now, your eyes set on him. Your father's gaze hardened as he continued staring at a spot in front of him. His silence was enough of an answer that you need.

"You… know these people. You know why they are doing this," you continued slowly. Your words seemed to have struck something in him, a look of pain overtaking him for a solid second before he finally reached for your hand.

“When the time comes, you will understand.”

“No, I don’t think I will. Why won’t you tell me everything?! I can help. You don’t have to carry this on your own.”

“Darling, you don’t understand. They are not like anything we have faced before. I’m doing this to protect all of you.”

You were quiet as your mind ran a million different things at the same time. You could see the cracks in him, the dawning realization shaking your core in a silent, terrifying way. There are a lot of moments in your life when you don't agree with your father, but you love the man, and he has always been the epitome of someone you can rely on ever since you were young. It doesn't matter how big the problem is, he will always come swooping down to save the day. As you look at him now across from you, shadows and light bouncing off his tired face, you felt your heart break as you realized one thing. He is afraid just as you are. Unlike you though, there was an air of resignation in him, as if he already knew the fate waiting for him.

“Then why… does it feel like you are saying goodbye.”

The way that he looked at you made something in you break. You shook your head slowly, and he cupped your face with his hand to keep yourself from trembling.

“You will understand it soon. For now, all I wish is for you to trust me. I know it might be too much to ask, but I hope you can give me this.”

You were terrified. In that moment, you felt like a little girl again, afraid to lose the only family that you have.

“Only if you promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“You will not die.”

He paused for a bit before finally giving you a small smile.

“You have my word.”

You weren’t entirely convinced, but you took it, at least for now. Your father may not be perfect, but as much as he is flawed, he had always tried his best to never break his promises to you. You nodded now, your eyes falling to the piles of papers in his desk.

“What are we going to do now, Papa?”

His hand on your face lowered and your gaze landed on his ring as it caught light from the lamp on his desk. It was an ornate piece made with what looked like bronze, the simple band carved with intricate-looping patterns that are reminiscent of snowflakes. It was the only piece of jewelry that he had worn for as long as you could remember, on top of his wedding band that he never took off despite the death of your mother. For some reason, the ring looked different now as it shone against his skin. It looked regal in your father’s hand, yet at the same time... lonely.

When he spoke again, his voice was melancholy.

“When the time comes, you will know exactly what you have to do.”

******* “You know the view of the sunset looks best on the other side of the rooftop, right?”

Your head only slightly turned towards the sound of the voice that broke through your thoughts. Shrugging a little to yourself, you turned your gaze once more to the burning sky, eyes not really seeing the deepening colors there. You have no idea how long you’ve been sitting in the cold, but the freezing chill clinging to your skin gave you an idea of the hours you’ve lost track of. 

“I know. I didn’t really come here for the view though.”

Soft footfalls started moving towards you in answer. The next thing you felt was the warmth of a cardigan going over your shoulders as your visitor dropped to the spot next to you.

“That makes one of us. I do like the view here. Can I join?”

You raised a brow but grabbed the edges of the jacket to wrap the material tighter around you. “You’re already here. Will you leave if I ask you to?”

“Nope~”

The way you could almost hear his smirk in his voice couldn’t stop you from smiling a little. You gave a light-hearted sigh before finally turning to look at him.

“Why are you here, Haechan? Shouldn’t you be resting in your dorm? You just finished training with the others, right?”

“When I can finally have some alone time with you? You do realize how hard it is for some of us to get your time, right? Either you’re sulking on your own or you’re being hogged by my cousins—”

He wasn’t able to finish what he wanted to say as you raised your hand and knocked your fist on top of his head. Haechan jokingly flinched and massaged the spot you just hit, a smirk on his face.

“Did you just come here to harass me?”

“Did I lie? All I’m saying noona is that I’m a Lee too. What does Mark and Jeno have that I don’t have?”

You looked at him dead-panned before giving an answer.

“Height.”

The way his face dropped made your lips twitch. It was taking you everything not to dissolve into laughter with how hard he scowled at you.

“Okay, Princess, listen here. Mark-hyung is literally a centimeter taller than me. Don’t be mean.”

That was the last that you could take. Unable to help it, you finally gave in, your laughter bursting as you curled in on yourself to keep yourself from snorting. You could almost feel his frown deepening without even looking at him, the awareness of it only making you wheeze harder.

"I do know what I can do that those two dorks can't though," you heard him say quietly after he let you have your moment. When you finally gathered yourself again—cheeks pink from the cold and the laughing fit—he was looking at you softly. The sunset was kissing his skin, making him look as if he was glowing. The corners of his lips lifted as he angled his face a little to the side to watch you.

"I'm the only one who can make you laugh like that."

The way your heart jumped made you immediately forget what you thought was funny just seconds ago. Your relationship with Haechan has always been different… Mark is loyal, Jeno is secretive, Renjun is subtle, and Jaemin is passionate. Haechan has always been straightforward with what he wants, but unlike the others, his intensity can sometimes be impulsive, like an open flame ready to spark into a larger fire at any moment. It was in his nature—The Magician, as the master of chaos, is the one force in the Arcana that constantly straddles logic and madness, next to The Fool itself. He is designed to want you in a different intensity from how others feel ever since the Arcana chose him as its Master. 

It's because of this that you have always tried to hold back more when it comes to him. And so when he pushes, you pull back, not because you feel any less for him, but because the idea of you two meeting in the middle has always terrified you.

That, and you know that whatever feelings Haechan has for you at the moment might not be his own, but his Arcana craving for yours.

"You make me laugh just as hard as you can make me mad," you admitted finally, allowing your walls to break down just a little in front of him. Something flickered in his eyes though his smile remained.  

"You always run away from me, noona. Why?"

"You already know the answer to that."

"What I know is that you like me just as much as you like the others."

"I do. But do you feel the same about me? Or is it your Arcana telling you that you want me?"

Your question made him stop. You watched as the smile slowly bled from his face, his well-kept mask slipping for a moment. Haechan is a good master of his own emotions, but this time you knew you hit a chord. 

"I can do anything for you. Destroy worlds… and build new ones if you want me to,” he said, his voice serious. 

"I know. But that is not answering my question."

"Then what—"

"Will you feel the same if I am not the IL Matto, Haechan? Will you still like me if I’m just a regular human?"

The way his eyes hardened a little at the very thought of you living a life as a normal mortal admittedly made your heart break a little. You've always known this, of course… but hearing his answer now in his silence did not make it easier. When it seemed like he didn't know what to say next, you took it upon yourself to take his hand gently. He immediately wove his fingers with yours, his hold tight that it felt like he was giving you his reply through it alone. This time, it was you who smiled at him to try and give him comfort.

“I know how much you like me, but I can’t accept those feelings if you’re not even sure yourself that they’re your own. It’s unfair for me to give you an answer and take your free will from you, Haechan... I can’t do that, at least while you still can’t answer that question.” 

He looked so lost and in pain that for a moment, you could see the chubby-cheeked boy who had always ran after you when you were younger. It made you want to pull him in for comfort, but you settled on giving his hand a squeeze instead. 

"Hey. Don’t feel bad about it, okay? It’s fine. I like having you around, just like this. If you want to do anything for me though, then just promise me one thing."

He still seemed torn, but he managed to give an answer anyway.

"What is it?"

"Never stop making me laugh. You're right. You’re the only one who can do it."

******* Kun kept his eyes steady on the flickering flame of the candlelight in front of him. The room was quiet, but there was a different tinge of melancholy that was lingering in the air as the Headmaster sifted quietly through the papers in front of him. The ticking sound of the grandfather's clock in the room was deafening to him, like a death call waiting for its final drop. It was a reprieve when the door finally creaked open, revealing Taeyong on the other side of it. Kun waited for him to join his side, giving the man the liberty to break the suffocating silence.

"We just finished the final round of trainings, Sir. We’re gathering all the data before giving them to you."

"How are the kids?"

"They have improved a lot. They’re not at their full potential yet, but they can definitely control their abilities better now. They will be able to hold a fight… should the need arise."

"They don't have to. They only need to defend themselves,” the man said evenly. “Have you heard word from Doyoung?"

Taeyong paused before giving an answer. 

"Yes. He has confirmed that it is most likely Junho Lee who is working with Cypher."

The man's hand froze ever so slightly as he moved to pick up a paper from his desk. His face was calm, but there was something about the set of his lips that made Kun and Taeyong surreptitiously exchange glances.

"I appreciate you working with the Kim's, Taeyong. He's probably watching me very closely, so I needed you to do the job."

"Do you want us to get rid of him?" Kun's voice was quiet but steady when he asked the burning question. The Headmaster shook his head, his eyes hooded by the shadows from the flickering candle.

"No. Not yet."

Kun's jaw clenched ever so slightly at the answer. His morals tell him to take the man's word with no question—follow him with blind loyalty like he has always done—but he couldn't bring himself to do it now, not when everything seems to be crumbling around him. From the way that Taeyong was holding himself beside him, shoulders stiff and face set, he knows that the other Legacy shares the same stand.

"With all due respect, Sir. I would like to understand why," he finally decided to ask after gathering enough courage to speak again. The man peered at him from behind his glasses, curious, but not seemingly surprised by his question. He didn't know if it was just a trick of the light, but he thought he saw the shadow of a smile on the other's lips before he finally moved to cross his hands together.

"You and Taeyong always had the right to ask. The pair of you just do not give yourselves the full credit you are due."

For a second, Kun felt oddly like a child being gently reprimanded by a parent. Gathering himself again, he decided to press more to get answers.

"We do not understand why you're protecting Junho. He betrayed you. He betrayed all of us."

"I am not protecting him. I am protecting the Family… From him."

The look of silent confusion from him and Taeyong was not lost on the Headmaster. The man, on the other hand, seemed set and collected as always.

"Cypher is already a formidable enemy on their own. They will wage war on us soon, there is no doubt about it. Going after Junho now will only split the Family more—and we are currently at a disadvantage of not knowing who else within our network has decided to side with him. If he finds out that we know, we'll just be pushing ourselves in a corner. The Lee's have resources, and having those used against us is the last thing we need."

"So we will just let him do whatever, then?" Taeyong asked this time.

"No. When the time comes… And you will know when—you will have to take him down. Even his own son should he decide to betray my daughter."

The way the man said that so evenly without batting an eye made Kun and Taeyong's blood run cold. The Headmaster is a kind, rational man that oftentimes, people forget how cunning and ruthless he can be in his own ways.

"For now, I want to keep him alive. After all… He might still become useful in the future."

Both men stared at him, though none decided to speak up this time. Wordlessly, he picked up a thick brown envelope from his table and offered it to the two. Kun and Taeyong looked at each other before the former took it silently from his hands.

"When that time comes, my daughter will be the first person to know what best to do with him," the Headmaster continued as he leaned back on his chair. "Just the same as she will know what to do next once things start to unfold. When the moment calls for it, give her that envelope. It will help her."

Kun's fingers tightened on the edges of the bundle he was holding. There was a heavy feeling that had started to weigh on his stomach, similar to the one he had when the man talked to him first after his quick absence.

"Are you leaving, Sir?"

A shadow of something quickly glossed over the man's expression. It was so brief, but it was enough to give Taeyong and Kun the answer they hoped they wouldn't have to hear ever.

"There are things that only I can do in this fight. So yes… I would have to leave my daughter. For a while," he said, his eyes moving from one young man to the next. Maybe it was the darkness and the shadows dancing in the room, but in that moment, the Headmaster saw in the pair two other young men who stood shoulder to shoulder in this room once, many decades ago, promising their allegiance to the Arcana. The memory made his chest constrict with a mix of emotions—pain… longing… and sadness for what was and what will never be again.

He let the memories linger for a few more seconds before finally giving the two a small smile.

"I know I have already asked for too much from the both of you, but if I can have one last request… I hope you two can put her and the Family's best interests at heart while I am away."

"Consider it my last request as IL Giudizio."

******* Your footsteps echoed softly in the hallways as you made your way back to your room. Tucked loosely by your side are a couple of hardbounds, titles you decided to sneak out of the library in this unholy hour because you were already out of reading material. It's been weeks since most of the student body have been sent back to their homes, leaving Rosewood silent and vacant. Since then, you’ve tried to take comfort in the stillness surrounding you by keeping mostly to yourself and out of everyone's way.

You have already turned the last corner to your room when your phone suddenly vibrated in your jeans pocket. By the time you managed to pull it out and check your messages, you were already at your door, one hand wrapping around the knob while you tried to open the message notification. You have barely caught Mark's name on your screen when a gasp was suddenly torn from you as someone grabbed you by the arm, the motion causing the books you were holding to tumble to the floor. Your eyes grew wide as your back made contact against the wood, your elbow grazing the cold knob of your door as you were pushed against it. Your first thought was that you were being attacked, but a different kind of shock gripped you when you realized what exactly was happening.

You didn't really need to see him to know whose lips were pressed against you the next second. Even in your confusion, your hands automatically gripped the front of his shirt as he held you close to him. He was holding you so tightly that it took you a moment to guide his face back so you could see him better. Dark eyes met yours, hooded by his windswept, messy hair as you searched his face. The warmth of his breath fanned your lips and his fingers only dug deeper on your hip bones as if he was afraid that you will push him away. 

"Jeno, what—"

"I need you. Now."

Four words. That was all it took for you to pause and for your heart to stop in your chest. You held his gaze for a second longer before grabbing his hand the same time he reached out to turn the knob behind you. Wordlessy, you pulled him in, leaving nothing but the sound of your door closing in the empty hallway.

*******

A/N: This took a while because I simply could not put my thoughts into words properly. Enjoy!

Taglist: 

@effulgentfireflies, @kasperneo, @lostlovesoul11, @byunniebaekhyunnie, @smolpeyy, , @dearj43, @bettyschwallocksyee, @babyksworld,   @yongboksfreckles,  @user103843, @lovehowdream, @glitching-wren, @jhornytrash, @coconuttiez8d, @negincho​, @stopeatread​, @ellatizw​, @huangberryyy, @wonyofanclub​,

Untaggable for some reason: @renjunsflower, @coconuttiez8d

#mark nct x reader #haechan x reader #jeno x reader #jaemin x reader #renjun x reader #nct dream fic #nct dream imagines #nct dream reader insert #nct dream supernatural au #nct fic #nct fantasy au #nct fantasy fic #haechan fic #jeno fic #jisung fic #renjun fic #jaemin fic #chenle fic #mark fic #nct au #nct dream x reader #nct dream 00 line x reader

[tenns-secret-night]

Sweet Dreams, Sweet Night.

Ramuda x M!Reader x Gentaro

A/N: Inspired by this art because I’m going FERAL. I may rewrite this later with Dice if I ever figure out how to write him bc I also love him.

Genre: Fluff, Mentions of spice but nothing happens, Mild Hurt/Comfort if you squint, Ramuda Lore spoilers if you squint

Characters: Gentaro Yumeno, Ramuda Amemura

Warnings: They sleep in the nude, mentions of explicit topics. All fluff but still.

It wasn’t hard to feel out of place with your lovers sometimes.

They had been together before you, and despite their reassurances that they both wanted you as much as they wanted each other, it still felt like they were walking on eggshells around you.

You decided to give them some space for each other, it would be best right? They clearly loved each other more than they loved you…

Ramuda was the first to notice your distance. You didn’t hug him and Gentaro as long when you visited their apartment that day, you weren’t as talkative, your smile was shallow.

And he would know the best how to spot that.

Gentaro also picked up on your distance, deciding not to pursue the topic, he didn’t want to upset you, but each time you have a light sigh when you thought they couldn’t hear, broke his heart.

You were to the left of Ramuda, watching TV. Gentaro was to his right, his arm wrapped around the fashion designer’s shoulder. You felt miles away.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

Maybe you didn’t belong.

You gave another reflexive sigh and began to stand from the couch, before Ramuda hugged your arm tightly.

“Where are you going?” He looked at you softly, a pout on his face, “We aren’t boring you are we?”

You freeze, “No, I just…”

Ramuda looks at you, his eyes piercing through whatever excuse you were making.

“Just that- you guys obviously want to be with each other more than me… I was gonna give you your alone time.” You feel your face grow hot

“Are you serious?” Ramuda’s voice falters from its normal tone to his more natural, darker tone. You feel your mouth go dry, “If we didn’t love you, why would we keep doing this with you?”

You were quiet.

“We don’t feel comfortable around you? Is that it?” Gentaro finally speaks, at some point he had moved to the other side of you, gently taking your hand.

You nod.

“It would be untrue to say we haven’t been holding back around you…” Gentaro continues, “I sincerely apologize for making you feel alienated.”

“We just didn’t want to scare you,” Ramuda holds your arm firmer, coaxing you to sit back down. He turns to Gentaro, “We just love him too much to scare him away, right Gen?”

Gentaro nods, you sit back down and immediately both of them pull you into their arms.

“I won’t be scared,” you say, softly, “I want to see every part of you.”

Gentaro smirks, “My, my, you’re being quite bold dear, we haven’t even all been together for that long and already you’re leading me down a path of temptation.”

Your face goes hot

“That was but a lie” He smiles again, pressing a small kiss to your forehead.

Ramuda rests his head on your chest, looking up at you.

“You should stay the night!” He beams, his usual cheery demeanor back

Which is how you got to where you are now. They had led you into their shared room.

“We usually sleep in the nude, is that alright for you, Lovely?” Gentaro has a mischievous glint in his eye.

You suddenly feel shy but nod, “Um, okay!”

Ramuda bursts into laughter.

“Another lie,” Gentaro hides a chuckle.

You dart your eyes away from them, feeling embarrassed for agreeing so quickly.

“You know,” Ramuda approaches you, placing his hands on your shoulders, “it would be a way to grow closer~”

“I’m not,” you stammer out, “I’m not ready to do anything like that.”

They both chuckle to themselves.

“Dearest,” Gentaro begins, “Of course we don’t want to push you, it’s only sleeping, we won’t do anything you don’t want to.”

Ramuda nods to affirm this.

“We don’t have to get undressed if you don’t want to. Either way, nothing will happen that you don’t want to.” Ramuda presses a sweet kiss to your cheek.

“I’ll get undressed. Just to sleep though.” You mumble. Certain of yourself.

You still feel a bit shy, but you trust the both of them.

“I’ll do it.” You affirm again, with more confidence.

Gentaro is the next to approach you, taking your hand again.

“If you are not comfortable, don’t feel forced to do anything.” He smiles

“I want to.” You affirm again

Ramuda giggles and immediately starts to undress himself, throwing himself onto the bed.

Gentaro is next, taking his time with his own clothes before helping you with yours.

“If you ever feel uncomfortable please let us know.” He smiles softly, leading you to the bed.

You go to lay on the side of Ramuda, before he moves, placing you in the middle.

“You. You get all the love from us tonight,” he hugs you, placing his head on your chest, “No escaping to the corner for you mister!”

Both of your lovers gently wrap their arms around you, and you feel your eyelids grow heavy.

—

A/N: this was really bad and self indulgent but that art had me FEELING things

#gentaro yumeno #gentaro yumeno x reader #hypmic #hypmic x reader #hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic x reader #yumeno gentaro #yumeno gentaro x reader #ramuda amemura #hypmic ramuda #Ramuda x reader #ramuda amemura x reader

[pollenallergie]

Munson Men headcanons <3

Description: Just some miscellaneous headcanons about my favorite father-son duo <3

Word Count: About 2k

CW: Swearing (I have a potty mouth, that’ll never change), Eddie and Wayne’s frugalness and sense of innovation are heavily inspired by my family’s supernatural ability to avoid spending their money at all costs, hints at the first half of Eddie’s childhood being less than stellar (to put it mildly), brief mention of Eddie’s dad.

A/N: Let me know if you guys would like me to write the origin story of the fantastic, dynamic duo that is Eddie and Wayne Munson!! I have so much lore about their pre-canon lives floating around in my little ole noggin.

The Munson’s have movie night on the first Monday night of every month. As unorthodox as it may be to stay up late watching movies on a school/work night, it’s the only night of the month when Wayne usually doesn’t have to work the night shift, so it’s the only time they have to relax and hang out. <3

Wayne taught Eddie most of the basics of playing guitar, including how to tune his acoustic. However, other than that, Eddie’s pretty much self-taught. He mastered playing the electric guitar all on his own. <3

Wayne, much like Eddie, is shockingly big on nicknames. For example, Wayne’s longest and most enduring nickname for Eddie is Ferret because the boy has more energy than he knows to do with. Eddie’s also insanely good at squeezing into small spaces, which makes that moniker even more apt. Wayne also came up with your nickname, Jitterbug, because you’ve always been a fidgety, nervous nelly. <3

Wayne even has a nickname for your mom; he calls her Apple because she always uses apple-scented shampoo, the same apple-scented shampoo you used to use until you grew up and started acquiring your own hair care products. Also, Wayne calls your mom that because she often wears this cute little sweater with apples knitted all over it during the colder months. <3

Wayne keeps a picture of you and Eddie on his dashboard. It’s of you two leaning up against the brick wall at Hawkins Elementary, smiles beaming at the camera as you’d huddled in close on the morning of your first day of the third grade. On the back of it is written, in Wayne’s oddly elegant handwriting, “Ferret & Jitterbug Go To School - August 1973.” <3

Eddie is the heaviest sleeper on god’s green earth; he always has been. Consequently, when he was much younger, Wayne used to have to physically haul him out of bed in the mornings and dress him himself. Now that Eddie’s older, though, Wayne rings a rusty old cowbell he got at a garage sale to wake his nephew up; it works like a charm. Wayne thinks the cowbell was one of the greatest purchases he ever made. Eddie, on the other hand, has tried (and failed) to sneakily rid the Munson household of that damned bell on many occasions. <3

The first time Wayne caught Eddie smoking weed, when he was thirteen years old, he sprayed him with the hose to put it out. Then Wayne gave his drenched, shivering nephew the sternest, most long-winded lecture of his life. <3

After Eddie got done reading the Crucible in his 9th grade English class, Wayne had to deal with him constantly greeting him with a prim and proper “How now, dear Uncle.” <3

Eddie is one of the greatest gift-givers of all time. He listens more intently than others might initially think, so he always knows the perfect gift for someone. He gets that talent from Wayne, who inherited it from his mom, Eddie’s grandmother, Margaret Munson. <3

Similarly, both Wayne and Eddie get their dramatic flair from Mimi (what Eddie calls his grandma). She used to read Eddie his bedtime stories to him, using different, silly voices for the characters and narrators as she read through the tale, even pausing for dramatic effect when she felt it was necessary to do so. Mimi’s favorite book to read to him, which also happened to be his favorite book when he was little, was Millions of Cats. Eddie still has her copy of the book. The inside cover has the words “property of Eddie and Mimi Munson” inscribed in her pretty handwriting. He stores the treasured book in a memory box under his bed, opting to have it tucked away for safekeeping. As gross as it might be to some, Eddie finds it profoundly comforting that the book still smells like the menthols she used to smoke. <3

Wayne Munson is the DIY king, and Eddie is his protégé. Seriously, these men never hire a repair service because they fix everything themselves. Wayne even went as far as to check out books on basic wiring and electrical work from Hawkins Public Library when their trailer’s circuit breaker was giving them trouble. The Munsons have even been known to craft their own furniture from time to time, like when Wayne built the nightstand next to Eddie’s bed out of the wood that one of his friends had left over after building a new front porch for their house. He even got some dark wood stain to use on it for half off from the local hardware store since the can it was in was so dented that it hardly resembled a cylinder anymore. <3

The Munson men are also pros at shopping secondhand. They can scout out the best deals at garage sales. They can also easily scope out the most extraordinary hidden treasures at even the most cluttered thrift stores. Going shopping with them is a breeze because you know that, no matter what, you’ll get precisely what you need. <3

Wayne makes the most delicious grilled cheese sandwiches. You and Eddie aren’t sure how or why the ones he makes are always so much better than any other grilled cheeses you guys have had before, but they are. <3

Wayne’s never been a big fan of cake, so instead, you and Eddie make him a blackberry cobbler every year for his birthday using his mom’s recipe. Luckily for you both, or, rather, for your wallets, Wayne’s an August baby. Hence, blackberries are in season for his birthday and are, consequently, super fresh and not too expensive. <3

Contrary to how the rest of the town views them, most of the residents at Forest Hills quite like the Munsons, especially the elderly residents. Eddie and Wayne are the kinds of neighbors who will offer to help someone carry in their groceries, who will mow a neighbor’s lawn for free if they’re unable to do so themself, and who will even leave a lovely card in someone’s mailbox on their birthday. The Munsons are good people, and unlike most people in Hawkins, the folks who live at Forest Hills can clearly see that. Although, Eddie’s tendency to drive recklessly and blast metal music at all hours of the night sometimes makes it a little hard for his neighbors to remember just how good of a guy he truly is. <3

Wayne was your most loyal customer when you were in Girl Scouts and had to sell cookies every year. He’d save up money for months ahead of the cookie-selling season. Then, when the time finally came to start going door-to-door with your cookie forms, wearing your adorable little Junior Scout uniform, he would use that money to buy as many boxes as he could afford just to help you out. His favorites are the Tagalongs because, well, in his eyes, peanut butter and chocolate together is an unbeatable combination. <3

While Eddie’s “old man” may not have taught him how to fish, his Uncle Wayne sure did. When Eddie was a kid, back when he was still living with his shitbag of a dad, Wayne used to take him fishing at the lake at least once a week during the summer months to allow his nephew to escape his dad’s torment during summer break. Consequently, Wayne has many, many photos of a young, freckle-faced Eddie holding up the various fish he’d caught while flashing a beaming, toothy grin at the camera. He’s even got a couple of Eddie pressing kisses to some of the tinier fish his nephew caught. He also has one very special picture of 8-year-old Eddie gagging after his lips made contact with the slimy, scaly skin of the fish he was holding. That last picture is one that he’s opted to keep in his wallet; that way, he can look at it and laugh whenever he’s having a hard day. <3

Wayne and Eddie like to tease each other a lot. Granted, it’s only ever friendly fire. For example, Wayne teases Eddie about how loudly he snores at night. Meanwhile, Eddie teases Wayne about the so-called “grandpa noises” he makes when he gets up from the couch, bends over to tie his shoe, picks up something heavy, etc. <3

Wayne doesn’t really know what to do when people start crying around him; he tenses up and gets all awkward, unsure of what to say or do to make things better. But you bet your ass he tries his damnedest to console them, offering kind words, affectionate side-hugs (his full-on hugs are reserved for when his family needs them most, because he’s not really big on hugging), comforting shoulder pats, and when all else fails, a shoulder to cry on, to lean on in your time of need. <3

Wayne deserves a presidential medal of honor for all the times he’s had to take you, your siblings, and Eddie out to the Indiana Dunes for your yearly vacation by himself, which makes up nearly all of the times that you guys have gone to the Dunes, mainly because your mom was hardly ever able to get off work to come along with you all. Being stuck in a car with a bunch of ornery little shits for four hours (two hours there and back) is bad enough. Imagine how draining it is being stuck camping out in the woods with them for an entire week. Not to mention, Wayne almost always got stuck sharing a tent with you and Eddie, the orneriest of the little shits. After every single one of your trips to the Dunes, your mom would let you and Eddie have a week-long sleepover at her place so that Wayne could get some reprieve. However, Wayne almost always had him return home after about three days, as he found that he missed his boy in their time apart more than he missed the blissful silence when Eddie was home. <3

Wayne Munson can and will kick anyone and everyone’s ass at backgammon. He’s also unfairly good at Battleship, much to your and Eddie’s dismay. Also, Wayne’s never been the kind of person to let a kid win simply because they’re a kid; he is ready and willing to best you and Eddie at every board game known to man. Consequently, game nights at your mom’s place (to which Eddie and Wayne are always invited) are an intense affair, to say the least, but damn, are they fun! <3

Finally, Wayne used to sing “Don’t Fence Me In” to Eddie to get him to fall back asleep after a haunting nightmare woke him up, something that happened far too often when he first came into Wayne’s care. </3

#in case it wasn’t obvious… #Wayne’s family is composed of you; Eddie; your mom; and your siblings #and the late great Samwise the Cat #and Philby the Dog!! we mustn’t forget Philby!! #you guys are his people <3 #eddie munson #stranger things #best friend!eddie munson #best friend au #best friend!eddie #eddie munson thoughts #stranger things 4 #eddie stranger things #stranger things vol 4 #eddie munson hc #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #wayne munson #wayne munson headcanon #wayne munson hc #wayne munson headcanons #the munsons #eddie munson hcs #wayne munson hcs #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson headcanon #stranger things headcanons

[phaticserpent]

can i request a scenario for tfp knockout, breakdown and starscream with an s/o who’s usually quiet, but then someone brings up a topic they like and suddenly they’re rambling on and on? thank you !

Ooooo yes! I hope it's okay that I attempted to write it as a short fic, I don't know if you wanted it like that

Knockout

It was rare that you participated in conversations among the decepticons. Probably because none of the topics piqued your interest. Well, this time was different; you were seated on Knockout's shoulder while he was talking to Breakdown.

".....yeah and yesterday I went to a drive in theatre and watched a horror movie—"

"Oooh! Uh did you like it?" You perked up, craving your neck as both decepticons turned to you. Knockout grinned.

"I loved it! I think it was called 'Psycho' or something." You gasped.

"I love Psycho! It's one of the classics and probably the kickstart to a lot of horror movie plots. The director was a bit of a madman, but that's what made it great!....." you continued on and on about the history and lore of the movie, which Knockout seemed deeply entranced. While Breakdown had a pure face of horror. "....the buildup to the shower scene is really well done and the reveal of Norman and his 'mother' is just–" you failed your arms trying to find the right word.

"Right?!" Knockout chuckled. "That movie really put me on edge."

"I know! Do you want some recommendations?"

"Of course." Knockout smiled. In all honesty, he blanked out. He was only focused on you. The way your eyes lit up and your entire body just glowed from the way you sat and couldn't sit still from excitement. He smiled to himself, and Breakdown caught Knockout's lovestruck face.

"Awwww." Breakdown teased while Knockout shot him a glare.

Breakdown

Breakdown understands your reservation for the decepticons. He likes to have you on his shoulder, so he could keep track of you and make sure you're safe at the same time. He would occasionally tell you about his day and what activities he had planned.

"—and after that, I was thinking we could go down to Earth for some leisure time. Probably drive around with Knockout, if that's okay with you."

"Yeah of course. I enjoy the ride everytime." You smiled.

"Great! We practically have the night for ourselves, so if you want to do anything just let me know." Breakdown grinned.

"We could...uh stargaze?"

"What was that?"

"Stargaze?"

"Oh! You want to stargaze?" He asked and you nodded sheepishly. "Heh, yeah! Why not? You could tell us Earth's constellations."

"Yeah!" You beamed. "I took astronomy class in high school and I really enjoyed it, so I researched a lot about constellations and their history."

"Oh wow! If you want, you could tell me now." Breakdown smirked. "So that I could be smarter than Knockout." You both laughed as you walked down the hall.

"Well—" so you continued down the hall as Breakdown listened keenly. Once the night came, you along with Breakdown and Knockout visited Earth. They found and isolated area with as much open space and lied on the ground, while you lied on Breakdown's chest. Throughout the night, you pointed at constellations to the two decepticons. Though, Breakdown wasn't staring at the night sky. He was too focused on your expression and Knockout could see it too. The way your eyes lit up even in the darkest night.

Starscream

Starscream originally took your silence for obedience and it honestly took a lot of work for you two to actually build a connection. He did talk a lot and he always liked how you never shot him down for it. Though, one time you had spoke up to give reasonable advice to his dilemma. Which, surprised him.

The arrogant decepticon didn't take your word for his situation, but he tried it out once. Imagine his surprise and confusion when it works. He would now come to you for advice on things, earning his full trust and compassion. Though, you were still shy, he didn't mind it. After this, he did try to get you to talk about other things.

"What is it you humans like to do?"

"Well, some like different things, like playing video games, reading, writing, drawing, uhh watching movies, making movies."

"And what is something you like to do?"

"Eh, just the usual. Watching movies, reading, playing video games." You shrugged. Starscream was so sure that would get the conversation going, but it didn't last. He was so confused by you.

Until, "I'm going out for duty. What is it you would like to eat?" Your head snapped up faster than a laser beam. Stascream stared at you as you gave him your order.

"Or if it's not too much trouble, you could get some groceries for me and I'll cook food for myself. There would be no need to get me something everytime."

"What is ....groceries?" He'd learned that you loved to cook, which completely flew over his head the last few days you had been with him. Now, he would visit Earth for a weekly trip to the grocery store and getting anything that intrigued him/whatever was on the list. He would watch you cook and wish that he could have a taste of your cooking. Most importantly, he would be staring at you as you talked to him about cooking. The way your eyes brighten and the way that you moved, it looked so hypnotic. He could watch you cook 24/7.

#tfp #transformers prime #tfp starscream #tfp knockout #tfp breakdown #starscream x reader #knockout x reader #breakdown x reader #transformers #fanfiction #fanfic #tfp fanfic

[master-of-47-dudes]

I think one of the most interesting storytelling decisions in Metroid Prime 2: Echoes is that the Ing have no lore files. The Luminoth have a ton of info on them but you really know nothing about the Ing at all besides their being universally hostile, apparently intelligent, and only what the creature scans and Luminoth's point of view of them tells you.

It's actually kind of a weird absence. It's obviously intentional; a way to make the Ing seem too alien and hostile to truly be in any way sympathetic or relatable (as opposed to the Space Pirates whose lores paint them as a mixture of amoral/unfettered by ethics, hilariously incompetent, pathetic, and unlucky, and downright diabolical).

Even Dark Samus, who also leans hard into the light/dark dichotomy that the game themes itself around, has more depth and revealed motivations than the Ing through its/her actions thanks to the Space Pirate lores and the secret ending of the first Metroid Prime.

Of course, Dark Samus is also a subversion of that theme as well, but that's a different rant.

With the Ing, it's simply... they exist, they are intelligent, and they hate everything the light world stands for. Why? There is no known motivation. The game's narrative and the Luminoth lead us to believe Dark Aether is entirely unnatural, an anomaly that sprung into existence when the Phazon meteor struck it.

Exploring Dark Aether does seem to lend itself to that conclusion. The Ing do not seem to build, outside of the immense ingworms and the containers made of smaller, weaker ing. They do not seem to have clear domiciles, simply existing around Dark Aether. They have a hierarchy, and the Ing Hive is said to be their home, but the Ing Hive is also just a very literal Dark reflection of Sanctuary Fortress; architecturally identical to its Light counterpart in most ways, despite the obvious artificial nature of it. The same applies to Lower Torvus!

Any construction that exists in the Dark world and not the Light World is generally something the Luminoth built there during the war, or that the Ing stole.

Any construction that exists in the Light world and not the Dark world is something built after the Luminoth made their last stand: the Space Pirate base in Agon, the desperate attempts of the Galactic Federation troops to secure a site before they were overrun.

But while the Ing do not build or care for their own, they’re not unintelligent. Their greatest asset in the war was not their ability to overrun their enemies with numeric advantages (which they had and used), but their ability to adapt to and appropriate every weapon the Luminoth used against them.

Without that, without strategy and cunning, the Ing would not have been able to turn the tides of the war in their favor; the Luminoth's technical advantage was TOO big; the Luminoth weapons Samus utilizes in Echoes make that obvious, with the Light and Dark Beams offering firepower far in excess of standard Chozo faire and the Annihilator Beam's interaction with the Luminoth's crystals and beacons making it the ultimate weapon against the Ing. The Dark Suit? A near perfect defense against the hostile Dark Aether's atmosphere.

And yet the Ing could possess the Luminoth, the creatures of Light Aether, the defenses the Luminoth made to protect themselves...

The Ing's greatest asset is theft, to the point that even their world is stolen. A copy, all the structures they call home simply copy-pasted into existence by a bizarre cosmic incident and not things they built themselves.

I suppose these weird aliens stand out in the Metroid series by being one of the most alien things Samus encounters, outside of Phazon itself- and them being a unique creation of Phazon lends itself to that bizarre, eldritch nature of the substance as a living thing.

...but God damn do I wish we got to see their perspective.

#metroid #metroid prime 2 #ing #rant #musings