#I tried my best but some may have slipped through the cracks | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yaut-jaknowit · 28 days ago

Note

Hi, this is my first time making a request so I hope I'm doing it right. If I am may I please request a part 2 to the "you are not hunted" because I am currently OBSESSED with Gawtin (a little to much) and just re-read the whole masterlist and came upon this post making me want to know what happens next. You can ignore this is u want but I want you to know I love your work and hope your having a great day/evening <3

You Are Not The Hunted Part 2

Character: Gawtin (female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3019

Summary: This giant alien takes you from your friends, from your home. She traps you in her bedroom, the safest place to be. You are claimed to be her pet from that moment forward. And well... you don't take that very well.

Author Note: Ehehehe, I'm so glad you are obsessed with her! There's no such thing as too much with Gawtin. Love her as much as you want! I appreciate all the love!

Part 1

Masterlist

Ao3

Now, onboard Gawtin’s ship, reader is both terrified and angry that this thing took them. Reader tries to fight their way off the ship but Gawtin easily overpowers them and pins them to a wall. So, they tried to escape by wedging the door open or smashing the keypad. They get electrocuted by accident. When Gawtin tries to feed them, that doesn’t work. Reader refuses to eat even when Gawtin uses her presence to scare them.

Despite the pounding of your fists against the creature’s sturdy back, it did nothing to make her even flinch. She continued to strut through the forest you were once enjoying. Your screams rung through the trees. Your friends lost between the trunks and foliage. Tears slowly ran down your cheeks. The world taking a darker turn as you’re carried away from them.

In this position, you spotted a weapon hanging from her waist. A machete. You instantly reached for it and attempted to pull it off of its fixed position. A hand engulfed yours before you could make contact with it. It held a firm grasp but not enough force to crack any bones. You struggled again. Your hand couldn’t be retrieved.

Her feet stopped. Your body slid down her front and landed unsteadily on your feet in front of her. The large alien snatched both of your wrists and crowded into your space. Instinctively, you took steps backwards to get away from her. Until the curve of your spine met the rough texture of a tree trunk. A gasp sounded from your throat.

Each of your wrists were lifted high above your head and pinned to the bark. They were easily held in one of her hands. A snort sounded from the creature. “You… do not think,” she uttered. Her free hand pinched something out of a pouch on her side. Rope was held between two fingers. She brings it up to your wrists. Your brows jerked up towards your hairline. You doubled down the fight and tried to slip out by taking off the weight on your legs. That only pulls painfully on your shoulders. The creature still has a firm grip on you.

Talently, the alien is able to tie your wrists together with one hand. Then, she throws you back onto her shoulder like you weighed nothing to her. With her size, you believed that as a fact.

The journey began once more. She carried you through the forest. The speed she took only made the trip short but sweet. Her form stopped. Her arm holding onto your thigh lets go for a moment. You hear a beep then a hiss. Curiosity got the best of you. You tried to lift yourself up to peer over her shoulder. She makes a short but warning growl. Your survival instincts force you to lay back down against her back, limp.

All you had to do was play along and hope for survival.

A new scene greeted you. She had walked up some sort of ramp and entered… something out of this world. Alien. This was a ship. A spacecraft. The angle hurt your neck but you took in everything you saw. From what looked to be storage all the way to main area of the vessel. She passed a door before one opened up for her.

Muted colors made up the interior of the ship. In the room she took you into, skulls were the first thing that greeted you. A terrified scream pierced the air. The fight entered your veins again. You kneed and punched and even bit to get her to let go you. It didn’t matter if your hands were tied together. You fought for your survival.

Snarls erupted from the creatures throat. Your body was harshly tugged off of her shoulder and dropped onto the floor. Your knees gave out. You were forced to lay back while peering up at her. Her metal mask made it impossible to see her expressions. The muscles that lined her shoulders and chest were tense. You whimpered and scrambled backwards, legs kicking to get away from her.

“Stop,” her rough voice demanded. The green creature ate up the space you desperately put between the two of you. Her hand grasped at the limited space between your own tied up ones and pulled you closer to her. You kicked at her shins.

A sharp huff escaped her. “Stop. I will not harm you.” You could see the blurred reflection of yourself staring back at you. Your head rapidly shook no.

“Let go of me!” you yelled at her and tugged harder. The rope painfully dug into your wrists. Yet, it didn’t budge. “Please, don’t kill me.” Her words had gone flying over your head. You were in such a state of panic, you weren’t listening. Your ears had blocked out all other sounds besides the race of your heart. Survival to see another day.

The grip on the bindings didn’t loosen or falter for even a second; despite your constant kicking. She held strong in her stance. Her other hand came around and grabbed you by the throat. It easily encircled one of the most fragile parts of your body. You instantly froze, paralyzed to the spot. One wrong move and she could snap your neck like a twig.

“Now, listen. I will not harm you. You are my pet now.” You accidently yelled out a ‘what?!’ which caused her to squeeze your neck in a threatening manner. A whimper fell from your lips. “No harm shall come to you under my care. You will be cared for, fed, clothed.” You fearfully looked into her purple eyes that kept you froze to the ground.

“W-why?!” you sputtered out and fought back the tears desperate to dribble down your face.

Her thumb on your neck caressed along the artery hidden between skin. “I have watched you for some time, little one. You intrigue me.” Heat blotted your features. How long has she been watching you?! Oh god. You’ve not felt eyes on you in what was thought to be the safety of your home. “I have made you mine, under my kinds law. I lay claim to you as my pet.”

Every time she called you ‘pet’ made your stomach twist with a sick feeling. Out of all the things to happen to you in your life. To be made a pet to an alien wasn’t plausible in your mind.

Yet, the new situation that surrounded you was evident of your new issues. You swallowed hard, chest stuttering with each intake of air. Your ribs felt like they were constricting your lungs, squeezing out the air in them.

The corners of your vision began to darken. Each new breath was faster than the last. Your eyes glazed over. Her grip around your neck loosened to the point you could almost just drop down the floor. That didn’t help ease up the issue you were causing to yourself.

Both of your hands went to the center of your chest, feeling them move underneath your fingertips. You tried to slow down your breathing. The danger no longer as high of a threat now. But, your body didn’t feel that way. The panic kept building and building. Until darkness overtook your sight and left you limp in the creature’s hold.

When you awoke next, you sat up with a gasp, hands flying to your throat in terror. Nothing held you in place. Your body acted before your mind had a chance to think. All of your limbs forced you to back peddle until you smacked into a hard, flat object. The wall. You pressed yourself against it, limiting the places something or someone could come and attack you.

Your hands gripped at your unkept hair. Whatever dream – or nightmare – that had controlled you during your sleep caused it. You swiftly swivel your head back and forth. The room was empty, bare from anyone or anything. All besides the three skulls on top of the door frame across from you.

One of them was a human skull.

Instantly, your chest began to heave. She was going to turn you into that. Every word from before had flew straight over your head. Actions speak louder than words. And if by the looks of the other skulls that decorated the… bedroom, she’s lying to you. You were no pet, nothing more than another trophy on the wall. These were all trophies.

Wait! Her bedroom?! You finally took in the space and its contents. Currently, you had been placed on top of what looked and felt like a bed. Furs covered it. All from different looking creatures she’s probably killed herself. And that was going to be you next. You shuddered and hugged yourself, slightly rocking yourself in a pacifying manner. It did little to quell the quaking of your lungs or the stuttering of your heart.

One wall had an open doorway that seemed to lead into a bathroom. You were unsure in the darkness that nearly consumed the whole space. Only a low light came from the running boards that lined the walls. It was just bright enough to barely make out the skulls and other animal bones that decorated the bedroom. All of them signs of what will happen to you next.

Light flashed bright. It temporarily blinded you. A yelp echoed back at you. Your face scrunched up, eyes unable to accommodate the sudden light so quickly. But the click of talons on metal had a shiver running down your spine, rattling your bones. You tried to fight off the pain to find her.

A warm hand cupped your chin and tilted your head up. The touch had your heartrate spiking even higher than before. Your hands shot out and smacked against a firm, muscular arm that didn’t yield to your attacks. She didn’t even make a single sound of distress and simply held you in place. It was evident that her strength greatly outweighs your own. In multiple ways she’s shown you.

“Calm down, little one,” she grumbled and pinched your chin only slightly harder to gain your attention. You whimpered. Finally, your eyes worked with you to open and find the giant alien leaning over the side of the bed. One of her hands was holding up her weight while the other held your jaw. Your gaze flickered down to the arm on the bed, knowing there was a chance you could kick it out. That may drop her to the bed. Then what? She’ll easily roll over, sit up, and tear your head off of your shoulders for doing such a thing.

“I have told you, you are not in harms way. There is no reason to panic.” Her voice was a rumble, deep. A tone you weren’t use to when it came to feminine figures. Nor did she fit the standards for humans. The only thing you could notice was a slight pronunciation of her chest and wider hips. Besides that, the thickly corded muscles that lined her figure, deep voice, and aggressiveness made you think of her otherwise. That only made you wonder what the male looked on her side of the species.

Your eyes completely stopped hurting from the light and opened all the way. Shyly, you had tucked your head to the side. Not once did you take your eyes off of her. If you were going down, you were going to take every chance to survive. No matter what.

The alien chuffed then released your chin and straightened her posture. She reached towards the end of the bed and push a tray towards you. “Food. Eat. You will need your strength.”

That through you in for a loop. Why in the world would you need your strength if she was going to turn you into one of her trophies? Your gaze narrowed on her, questioning on her intent. What was her point? What was she doing?

“I’m not hungry,” you stated, eyes flickering down to the steaming plate of food for only a second. The scent waft up into your nose and caused your stomach to growl loudly. Heat flushed to your cheeks instantly. “You didn’t hear that.” Now, she won’t believe you for even a second.

Her head tilted to the side. Her mask was still in place, covering whatever lay underneath. All you could read was her body language and hoped it was at least similar to humans.

She pushed the tray close enough to knock it against your shin. You refused to take your eyes of her for even a second. Every moment in a fight counts. Even in one that looks like you won’t win. You’d rather go down trying than willingly give up. “I told you, I’m not hungry.” Thankfully, your stomach decided not to interrupt the conversation.

Clicking sounded from behind the mask. Your brows furrowed, instantly trying to make sense of the noises. It didn’t sound like tongue clicking. It was far too fast. You leaned away from her the best you could with a wall behind you.

“What will get you to eat?” she asked of you in an annoyed tone of voice. She seemed done with your antics. Your heart began to thunder in your ears. Panic settling back into your veins again.

The food smelled wonderful. It was hot and fresh by the looks of it. But, she had made it. There’s a chance she poisoned it. Who knows? She may have the strength to kill you with her bare hands, but what if she’s insane. She has to be since she kidnapped you out of all of your friends. And her wording from before. She had wanted just you. As if she had been stalking you this entire time, picking out a target to become a new plaything.

Fear drew you away from her, scooting towards the side. Until you had the chance to slip off and get onto your feet. “Just let me go, okay? I don’t know what I’ve done to get kidnapped but please. All I want is to go home,” you pleaded with all of your heart. You knew it was going to get denied. There’s a hidden reason she wanted you. More than her calling you her pet. That had to be.

She bowed her head and shook it with disappointment, flowing off of her. “Paya, give me strength.” You heard her uttered barely above a breath. Her head raised so the eye sockets of the mask found your face. The intense stare from her behind the mask was nearly paralyzing. “Listen to me closely: you are my pet now. You will not be harmed. You are not leaving. I have laid my claim over you.”

With the words repeated straight to your face for the fifth time, you paused in your tactical retreat.

The nearest object appeared in your hand a millisecond before it went flying through the air. “No!” you shouted at the top of your lungs, face flush with heat. The next thing you went was nearly in your hand when you felt a presence behind you.

One thickly corded arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you up and off the ground. Your feet kicked wildly, striking every part you could reach. None of it did the damage you wished to see. She only grunted when you hit her knee in a particular spot. Then, she was sitting down on the bed and hold you in her lap. Your back to her chest. That same arm still snug and secure around your waist.

A deep, vibrating purr erupted from her throat and skipped across your skin. Goosebumps arose across your flesh, pebbling the tissue.

Before you had time to realize the effects, your tense muscles began to loosen. Confusion overridden your features. You struggled weakly in her grasp. Then, you went slack against her chest. The purr acting like a drug had added to your system.

“Good,” she interrupted the sound for only a second. Her other hand came up and petted the top of your head. You further relaxed against her, eyes nearly drifting shut. Your heart even slowed back down to normal.

“What… what did you, you do to me?” you slurred and titled your head back to see the underneath of her mask. In your dazed, doused state, you reached up and poked the exposed portion of her jaw. Weird looking jaw. You attempted to hook your finger under the metal and tug it free. She caught your wrist before you fully committed and put it down by your side. “What are you…?”

The alien paused, including the purring. It still affected you heavily despite the silence now entering the air. You were able to think clearer without the constant sound. She let go both of your waist and wrist and reached for the mask. Your eyes grew to the size of saucers. Was she truly going to expose her features to you? Oh god, what did she look like?!

When the mask was pulled off, a hiss of depressurized air sounded in the room. Your brows furrowed at the noise. She continued the move until you tensed back up. All the dopamine in your system instantly went out the window.

She was surely alien and completely inhuman. But… not ugly? You felt weird to think such a thing. Her head was massive with a dome-like shape that elongated the back of her skull. Piercing purple eyes were sharp and deadly to look in. Four mandibles acted like her lips, each ending in a lethal looking fang. Expect one had signs of a fracture. On the out edges of the dome had beige colored spikes that almost created a full crown.

You gulped down the lump in your throat and stayed still. It wasn’t just her claws and strength that could kill you, those mandible could easily gouge an eye out.

“I am Gawtin,” she announced and set the mask off to the side. “And, like I have said, you will be staying with me.”

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #predator x reader #alien vs predator #yautja x human #predator x human #predator x you #x reader #Gawtin #Gawtin x Reader #Gawtin x human

50 notes · View notes

cosmicobubisi · 2 months ago

Text

Cosmic's Malleyuu Whump vs Flufftober Day 3

wrongfully arrested | "I warned you" / Favorite Scent

They didn't know how they'd gotten here.

It had all been a mistake. Just someone in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Was this an error, somehow? Had they slipped through the cracks of some system, or was this a possible case of mistaken identity?

Right now, it didn't matter. No one was coming to save them. They couldn't call for help, because their phone had been kicked across the floor by their captor.

"Yuu," that very captor grumbled.

What was his intention? To rip them to shreds, devour them whole? To hold them hostage, and random them off? Yuu didn't have anything valuable, any it's not like they were worth much.

"Yuu," that rich voice rumbled again.

They didn't even know if the best move was to fight back, or let their captor have their way with them. Which move would give them the best chance at-

"Yuu."

They jumped a bit in the arms of their kidnapper.

"What?" they bit back.

"What are you thinking about?" he grumbled, straight into their neck. Malleus's breath tickled the hair on their neck.

"Oh, I was just monologing to myself," said Yuu.

Ok, maybe they did have some clue of how they'd ended up here.

Not very many, though. All they'd gotten a few days ago, aside from stood up, was a cryptic text message telling them he wasn't showing up to their usual walk tonight, and not to come by.

Yuu hadn't taken that lying down, and had insisted on having some sort of face-to-face conversation, which had caused them to head to Diasomnia.

They'd believed him to be running from their budding connection, and that had made Yuu awfully upset.

Yuu had already freaked out about it on their own, with their friends. Malleus wasn't allowed to freak out now.

Speaking of their friends, their phone rang, and Malleus gave off an unhappy groan.

"Let me grab my phone. No one ever calls me unless they're dying, or they think I'm dying."

"I warned you," he mumbled, yanking them back quite harshly.

He did. He said not to come by.

Apparently, he'd been hit with some sort of magnetism spell, and needed constant touch. He, and the rest of Diasomnia, knew he'd want Yuu first, so he'd told them not to swing by so as to not create any trouble while the spell worked its way out of his body.

When his dormmates wouldn't let Yuu see him, or even let them wait in the common area, Yuu... may have taken it more than a little personally.

Maybe they'd stomped away, and walked the perimeter of the dorm with Goodram, one of the few beastmen in Diasomnia, heckling them as they tried to look for the third year floor and then for Malleus's window.

It was almost surprising to see how much Diasomina had rallied around their dorm leader, but it also warmed Yuu's heart. They knew Malleus had expressed a lot of insecurity at his role, feeling a distance between him and his perceived subordinates, but at least Yuu knew they were for sure loyal.

Anyways, after calling for Malleus a few times, he'd ended up poking his head out of his window, and Yuu had gotten a glimpse at him. The next moment, they'd been in his room, snuggled up with him in bed, and then Malleus had explained the whole potion thing.

"C'mon," whined Yuu. "The sooner I answer, the sooner it goes quiet. Just let me let them know I live."

Malleus groaned, but summoned the phone in his hands and practically threw it into Yuu's hands. They picked up.

"Hello?" they said.

"Yuu! Are you ok? What's wrong?" It was Ace's panicked voice.

"Oh, I'm all good now! Thanks for checking in," they quickly replied.

"Yuu." They thought that tone was trouble. "You said you were arrested."

"Well," they said, "I was being detained."

"Ugh. Whatever. Call me back later."

"Bye," they said, "and I really am glad you called."

Ace didn't say anything before the phone clicked, but Yuu could basically hear his sideways smile.

"Mmmmm," said Malleus. "Finally. You know, your intoxicating scent drives me to madness."

"Yeah," said Yuu, as Malleus started nuzzling at him. "I can tell."

#cosmic whump vs fluff 2024 #malleyuu #twst #malleus x yuu #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #yuu twst #wrongfully arrested #I warned you #favorite scent

49 notes · View notes

bunnibitez · 1 year ago

Text

Messy Hands - Part One

Pairing: Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader AFAB

Word count: +4.3k

Summary: Miguel is having a rough time keeping himself in check. He’s getting angrier and just wants his dues. Besides, mob protection is so hard to come by these days. Unfortunately though, you might be under his “protection” now.

CW: 18+ so MDNI, NSFW. Mentions of blood, gore, violence, guns, criminal undertones, death, choking, murder, language, slow burn, eventual smut, no use of y/n

AN: So this is my first fic EVER. Idk what I’m doing so forgive me. I speak some Spanish but not that well so sorry in advance.

There’s a scent that hangs in the air of the warehouse. The hefty and pungent stench of iron and salt wafting through, sticking to the walls. Blood splatters as it’s coughed up onto the floor. Strangled chokes and gasps of desperation bounce off concrete as a bound man fights against the ichor that fills his now punctured lung. Heaves and wheezes fill the space, nearly drowning out the sweet melody that plays. Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major. Precise movements over the strings of a recorded cello, attempting to mask the groans and whines of a weakened subordinate. The Boss had always mentioned that classical music soothed him, allowed him to work better. Something about it just calmed the fire raging in his chest. The prisoner hangs his head low as blood pools in his mouth, mixing with saliva and dripping out in fat blobs onto his chest. He’s grateful for the moment to even hang his head, or at least he should be.

Hours have passed since he was dragged here, sack over his head and hands tied behind his back. That was so long ago, he thinks. Now the bag has since been removed and he’s been fastened to a chair in the center of the cold cement warehouse full of shipping containers, the contents of which he is oblivious of. His consciousness is fading in and out as he tries to focus on the sound of his rattling chest and the crescendo of the tune. But his ears prick as the crack of knuckles catches his attention.

He didn’t dare lift his gaze, already knowing damn well of the monster looming before him. A laugh rumbled from it’s chest as heavy footsteps approached. He could’ve sworn he felt the earth shake as it approached, but the man did his best not to show the absolute terror he truly felt. Suddenly from behind, a hand trails through his short black hair, yanking his head back in order to look upon the beast in front of him. Dark brown eyes squint at the harsh lights and he groans. His face may have been handsome once but now it was unrecognizable, broken, bloodied, and bruised; split in places not even thought possible. Peter’s hand jerked his head from side to side, ensuring he was still alive. The scruffy fellow cracked a smile and laughed as he stood behind the poor sucker. Parker was merely there to assist with refocusing his gaze. With his eyes now tracing upwards, he could see the figure ahead of him. He simply whimpered softly.

Miguel was a sadist for sure. A toothy, fanged grin spread across his sharp features as he began to wipe the blood from his brass knuckles onto his wife-beater. He carefully slipped them into his pants pocket. It had gotten everywhere at this point, Miguel believing that there was more blood and bile on the floor than in the barely breathing body beneath him. Thankfully he had enough foresight to at least remove his suit jacket, tie, and button up before beginning the torture. He stood there now, splatters of gore painting the once pure white undershirt and part of his perfectly bronzed skin. A thin layer of sweat coated his forehead and massive arms. His crimson eyes glowed, dilated as he focused in on his pathetic prey. He found it funny really, amusing. He let out a deranged laugh as he ran a hand through his messy brown locks before he spoke.

“Ya know.. I can’t lie,” He said lowly as he stepped closer, “..Realmente estoy disfrutando esto.” He growled.

There was a madness in his smile. A hidden darkness in has eyes that showed just how badly he wanted this, how he needed it. It wasn’t often that he found a mole in his ranks, attempting to demolish the empire he had built with his own two hands. It wasn’t often that he was ‘forced’ to be merciless and violent. It was a shame, he thought. Trust was something so hard to come by in his line of work. When that fragile trust is broken, an example must be made. So, when a young buck gets bold enough to start selling Spider family secrets and stealing more than his cut, Miguel is simply doing what he has to in order to secure his power and place in Nueva York. He’s worked too hard and spilled too much blood to just let it all slip away.

Finally, he looked down at the heaving mess he had made, labored breaths getting fainter as they made eye contact. Miguel snaps his fingers and swiftly, Ben shuts off the music that filled the room. A deafening silence falls on the warehouse. Miguel’s monstrous form crouched, coming to level with what was once the face of a rat. His broad and calloused hand raised to squeeze the bloodied cheeks, roughly manhandling his head, turning it over and kneading it carelessly. He sighed deeply, hot breath fanning over his victim’s features before he looked up at Peter, lifting his brows for just a split second. It was a silent command, ‘Get the gun’.

Peter released the rat’s hair and stepped back to retrieve ‘LYLA’, a stainless steel Colt XSE with a custom black grip panel etched with the red silhouette of a spider. She was beautiful. Sleek and elegant but capable of obliterating a man’s skull in a matter of milliseconds. As Miguel waited, his eyes drifted back down. His grin had fully faded as the fun of the it all was beginning to die down. The rage that had been simmering in the back of his mind had begun to boil. He liked to believe that he was a reasonable man most of the time, calm and sometimes even forgiving. But now he had no patience. Right now he felt a sort of virus infecting him, shutting down all logic and leaving him with just unadulterated hatred. Venom spilled over into his words as he spoke in a low tone, growling out as he spoke slowly.

“I can’t fucking wait to see your brains painting the walls.” He hissed out. His tone was cold and flat. His face was deadpan now, ready to carry out his final act of justice. In a fleeting moment of bravery, the rat hummed lowly. Squinting his eyes, hollowing his cheeks, and jutting his head forward just so, the rat spit at Miguel. A plump glob of blood and drool landed on Miguel’s cheek as the rat gave a half toothed smirk.

“Fuck you.” It came out broken and slurred, but the rat was proud of himself.

Miguel’s eyes darkened as his thumb slowly swiped across his cheek, effectively removing the carmine mixture. His gaze was fixed on this thumb before it calmly returned to leer at the smug prisoner.

“..Y pensar, yo iba a mostrarte misericordia.” Miguel uttered quietly as he rose up from his position on the ground. He loomed over the man, whose smirk had dissipated by now. Large sepia hands shot out, tightly coiling around the rat’s neck. Miguel was slow, methodical about it. Digging his nails into flesh as he applied pressure to the trachea, crushing and throttling at once. Wheezing ensued and panic filled the man’s eyes as his throat was forced close. His eyes widened, nearly bulging out of his skull as raspy whispers and choked gasps were the only sounds he could make. Tears rolled down his cheeks as his eyes rolled back into his skull. Within moments, the rat’s body went limp in Miguel’s hands. Peter was just striding back into the room when Miguel threw the corpse to the ground, still bound to the little metal chair. The useless cadaver clattered loudly on the floor.

“You seriously couldn’t wait a minute?” Peter said with a snicker as he came up to his side, handing over LYLA.

“Shut the fuck up, Parker.” He spat out coldly, tucking the gun away as he turned his back on the body.

“Call the cleaning crew. I want this place scrubbed down.” Miguel growled out as he snatched his clothes from Ben’s hands. The scruffy lackey simply shrugged and shook his head, pulling out his phone to obey as he smirked to himself.

And with that, the trio headed towards the door, piling into a black Escalade. Miguel grumbled to himself as he laid his clothes down on the empty seat next him. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he retrieved a pack of cigarettes and a silver zippo. After lighting a cigarette between his teeth he took a long drag and hummed, savoring its flavor. He let out a deep sigh, smoke billowing past his parted lips as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, appreciating the momentary silence. He felt a sense of calm wash over him, a low dulling hum in the back of his mind that seemed to get fainter as the car began to drive away from the warehouse. By the time they reached the highway, Miguel’s little hum was gone and his rage sat dormant, waiting in the back of his mind for now.

He felt his body ache now, finally taking in the toll of senselessly beating with his bare hands and a few other tools for hours. He let out a low groan, spreading out in the backseat. He was so so tired but knew there was still work that needed to be done. There always was.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

The morning sun came streaming in through your curtains, stirring you awake from your bed with a groan. Plush warm sheets coaxed you into spending five more minutes among them. Your eyes had just barely shut when your phone alarm rang. An exasperated sigh left your body as you heaved yourself from the mattress, tossing the blankets off. You stretched with a whine before standing up and you swear you thought you heard your back creak. Hastily getting dressed and slipping your apron on over your clothes. Checking the time, you slipped on your shoes and headed out the door of your cozy little apartment. Brooklyn was nice, pretty with plenty to see and do with its fair share of safe and friendly neighborhoods. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t live in one of those neighborhoods. You lived on the seedier side of town with less friendly faces and cheaper rent -the side where quarrels between your neighbors could be heard through the paper thin walls and a strange smell often wafted up from the kitchen pipes. It wasn’t much, hell it was barely considered habitable but it was home. Your own little place in the world where you felt somewhat safe, far away from your old life. A fresh start was just the thing you needed. The only current upside of your living arrangement was that it was only a 5 block walk from your job.

‘Bellaginos’ was a small, family owned Italian restaurant that sat on the corner of 48th street. The dining room was divided into 2 parts; the main dining room with booths and chairs has a casual feel to it, and the private dining room with a few more candles and nicer decoré. The private dining room was just separated by 2 French doors, inside was one large mahogany table and enough chairs to seat 12 people. It was typically just used for private events and large parties, at most though in recent years it hosted a birthday dinner. The menu was nothing revolutionary and the atmosphere didn’t exactly read high class, but it was nice enough. The dingy and peeling yellow wallpaper had it’s own sense of charm to it. Your boss claimed that back in the day, “It was one of the classiest joints in town.” Obviously true by the stained and sticky carpet and how well it complimented the out of place faux Roman vases in the corners of the room.

You kept to yourself mostly, not wanting to bother the owner or the cook too much with trouble. Being polite and kind was how you ended each day with a full belly anyway, curtesy of the chef. You’d only been here for about 2 months, working as a waitress. Most days you could sit unbothered in your favorite little booth.

The day was flying by quickly and you were halfway done with your shift, sitting at one of the little red vinyl booths in the corner of the almost empty restaurant. It was tucked away in a way where you could see most of the main dining room without having to move. Your hands were busying themselves with a paper and pen, doodling away, when the little bell above the door jittered to life. Two men walked in. The smaller, leaner man with a scraggly 5 o’clock shadow held the door open, its whiny hinges complaining at the movement. He moved aside and when he did, that’s when you saw him. Dark brown slicked back curls just barely ducked below the door frame in order to step inside the shabby little eatery.

Big.

That’s the first thing you noticed. He stepped into the cramped room and his presence within made it feel like it shrank by two sizes immediately. His friend stepped in behind him, letting the door close with a slam. The second thing you noticed, were his eyes. Piercing and criminally beautiful scarlet irises that tracked around the room lazily. A bored expression played on his sharp features, as though he’s been here many times before. He runs a calloused hand through brushed back locks, a few strands disobeying him and laying messily, before breathing out an annoyed sigh. He seemed tired. No, exhausted more like it. The bags under his eyes aging him a bit, but if anything it only added to his charm. You’re about to get up from your little hiding spot to greet the pair when the owner, Mr. Caparelli, bursts out from the kitchen. For the first time since you’ve seen him, the plump and hairy little Italian man looks damn near jolly.

“Caio Miguelito!” He says through a thick Italian intonation, his joy sounding a little forced compared his usual grumbles and gripes. Mr. Caparelli was what some might call a ‘proud man’. He didn’t take criticisms well. He firmly believed that the moment you set foot within his restaurant, you owed him respect. Yet for reasons that evaded you, the giant needed not waste time with false niceties and earning his kindness. Your employer approached the tan mountain of a man with wide arms, his white mustache stretching out as he forged a smile. The behemoth pulls one hand out of his pocket and wraps an arm around the stout little man, patting his back heartily. The rings on his fingers glint as they catch the afternoon sun.

“Caio, viejo.” His voice rumbles out and you feel a heat creep across your cheeks. It’s deep and low and rattles in his chest, commanding attention. He masks his dull expression instantly with a warm smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’s fake, well practiced.

“How’ve you been, Miguel? Feels like the last time I saw you was uh.. six months ago. Normally you don’t come in to collect...” Your boss chuckles as he pulls back, looking up into the monster’s eyes. You don’t quite notice the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows thickly. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing at attention. “Everythin’ alright?”

Miguel, as you’ve now learned is his name, nods his head slowly, humming in response. He doesn’t look Caparelli in his eyes, already done with the conversation before it began. Now, he’s merely looking down on him with half lidded eyes, sizing up his prey.

“Sí amigo. We’ve just got business to discuss. Price changes an’ all that.” Miguel slides his hand back into his pants pocket.

Caparelli’s smile falters for only a moment before he nods his head.

“R-Right,” he clears his throat, “Of course. Lemme uh.. lemme make you somethin’ to eat and then we can talk. Ragazza!” His head whips towards the little booth that you’ve been sitting in. Somehow you’ve managed to go unnoticed by both Miguel and his associate. The shaggy man smirks and rubs his hands together.

“Finally! I am absolutely starving.” He states as he licks his lips, causing Miguel to roll his eyes.

“You’re always starving, Peter.” Miguel mutters, more so to himself than to anyone else. Peter has always had a proclivity for annoying Miguel, so much so that sometimes he can’t quite recall why exactly he was his right hand man. Miguel firmly believed that the only reason Peter did anything was because it would lead to a hot meal. Such simple motivations almost made Miguel envious. Almost.

“Cara! Seat my friends in the private room.” He calls to your direction.

It takes you a moment, but slowly your form rises up from the booth and you begin to approach the men, stuffing the pen and crude drawing into your apron pocket. Miguel’s eyes widen just barely as he looks at you, taking in the sight. Meekly, you grab two menus, keeping your head down as you tried to find your words.

“Follow me please..” You say in a voice barely above a whisper. Miguel is silent, taking a moment to watch you turn around and walk towards the private dining room before he follows. You set the menus down at the head and the first chair on the left. The two take a seat, with Miguel at the head, as you fetch your notepad and pen from your apron. There’s a thick tension about the room as Miguel rests his chin on his fist, now wearing the same disinterested expression. His eyes are cold, raking up and down your body in a silent motion.

“Can I start you off with something to drink, sir..?” Your voice is soft, sweeter than he realized it was when you first spoke at him. He’s too distracted by your tone and the way you call him sir. It’s been too long since that kind of innocence was presented to him, tempting and teasing him. You must know what you’re doing, he thinks. He focuses intently on those plush lips of yours. So pretty and soft, blessed with a hardly noticeable sheen from your lip balm. He wonders how it must taste and how pliable your lower lip would be between his teeth. It takes him a moment before he’s broken from the trance and looks up into your eyes. He must’ve been staring for too long since you’re now looking at him with furrowed brows in confusion, head slightly cocked to the side like some wide eyed puppy.

“Sir..? Did you hear me..?”

He clears his throat, closing his eyes for a moment in order to ground himself. Biting the inside of his cheek, he hardly grumbles out a response. When he opens his eyes again, he’s looking down, suddenly finding the dingy white tablecloth to be very fascinating.

“Yeah yeah, te oí..” His hands tense around the edges of his menu, needing to sink his nails into the brown pleather of its cover for relief. “Just get me an ol’ fashioned.”

You nod your head, scribbling the order down and turn your attention over to Peter who was already beaming up at you.

“Just a water for me, thanks. Tonight May and I are having a tea party so I gotta hold off on the sugar.” He chirps as he chuckles, elbowing the growling beast beside him. “Oh and can we get some bread too? And some butter! And-“

“Enough.” Miguel cuts him off. He shoots a side glare at Peter, waving you off with his hand. You tremble a little at the way his voice boomed. You nodded your head quickly and turned on your heel, rushing through the French doors. Miguel doesn’t watch, feeling an odd humming in the back of his brain and knowing that if he saw the way your hips swayed and bounced as you scurried away from him in fear would only make it worse. He kept his eyes down, slowly letting them close, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he let out a low breath.

“You alright, big guy?” Peter asked, clapping a palm to Miguel’s shoulder. “You look so tired lately.”

“M’fine.” He snapped. He lifted his head and looked into the warm brown eyes of his companion. Peter retracted his hand, shooting both up in defense and going silent. In truth, Miguel wasn’t just tired. He was fucking drained of every last bit of energy he had. Business had been booming lately and with the rise of idiots in Nueva York trying to take what was rightfully his, Miguel hadn’t been able to rest. Scum like Kingpin had been hiring his own men, bribing them into selling out the family. Loyalty was becoming a scarce resource, causing more and more rival gangs to crawl out from the woodworks to oppose him. One of the biggest things the Spiders dealt in was “protection.” The Spiders would offer their protection to whomever could afford it, but the higher the demand got, the greater the cost grew. This of course was the only reason Miguel was sitting here today. A couple of Spiders had attempted to inform your boss of the rising cost of protection, but the pig headed brute refused to listen. Miguel had decided that he’d pay him a visit as a last chance before escalating things. Miguel was cold and calculated and knew the only way to make people listen was through fear.

In the beginning of it all though, he tried to be merciful. He tried to be patient and understanding, but his kindness was mistaken for weakness. His mercy was abused and left him with nothing but a fraction of the man he once was. Now the bloodlust was near maddening. Managing his rage had become a dangerous dance. The stress of running an empire often left him craving release in one form or another. First it was women, then liquor, and now his latest vice was violence. Unbridled carnage that truly let his mask of sanity slip. He was trying harder and harder now a days to keep his wrath in check but with so many people working to test his patience, he was bound to snap. The poor fellow in the chair last week had merely been the victim of shit luck. Miguel had intended to show him some mercy and make his death quick and painless. Unfortunately for him, his tongue worked faster than his head and he thought that pushing Miguel’s buttons would buy him some time. Miguel had been pent up with rage for weeks and just needed to release it on something. Part of him feared he’d always have to live with this anger, never really able to escape it, just find gaps between the killings. That is until he saw you.

For the first time in a long time, when he heard fear in someone’s voice, he didn’t want there to be any. You looked so small and soft. So delicate, like a fragile little flower. The humming in the back of his brain tuned out the constant wash of anger. For once, he wasn’t focused on work or power. In the seconds he took to gaze upon your angelic face, he felt peace, an emotion he thought he was no longer capable of.

When you finally returned with their drinks, Miguel watched your eyes flit to the floor as you approached him. He could’ve sworn he felt his heart palpitate in his chest, not fully understanding himself why he wanted you to look at him. You set down the drinks along with a basket of bread and butter and placed your hands behind your back.

“Mr. Caparelli will be here shortly to speak with you. Is there anything else I can get you..?” You questioned softly. Slowly you lifted your head, anxiously shifting your weight. Cautious as ever, you stole a glance at Miguel’s eyes. They gleamed like rubies and for a moment you felt a shutter in your chest. A whimper would’ve escaped you, had you not been more wary.

Miguel simply shook his head and looked down at his drink.

“No, thank you. That’ll be all.” Miguel says as he picks up the glass, bringing it to his lips. His tone seemed softer, just barely so. You hum in response, allowing the corners of your mouth to just barely turn upward and once again turned towards the doors. You only halted once Miguel called your name, feeling a chill crawl down your spine.

“Y-Yes sir..?” You glance over your shoulder back at him.

“Close the door on your way out.” He said coldly, losing any sense of warmth he may have just had. With that you weakly nod and close the doors behind you. The doors to the private dining room remained closed until your stout manager exited the kitchen with a serving tray of food and nervous sweat beading down his forehead. Mr. Caparelli entered the room and slammed the door shut behind him, simply hoping to survive and atone for the sins that had lead to this meeting with a killer. Caparelli set down the plates of food before the two men, taking a seat on the far end of the table, directly across from Miguel. His trembling only fed Miguel’s ego, causing a malicious grin to spread across his face. He chuckled lowly, his scarlet eyes half lidded and glaring directly into Caparelli’s soul.

“Aye viejo, there’s no need to be so scared…”

“I won’t bite.”

Part 2

@whisperwispxx

#miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miguel smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel x you #peter b parker #mafia au #mafia #Spotify

302 notes · View notes

h3110-dar1in9 · 11 months ago

Note

Hi, hello, I'm back <3

Okokok so since you write for Brahms I have a request 👉👈

So when I first watched the movie(s but the second one was meh) I thought Gretta (I think that's her name ??) Was kind of a b^tch like ?? She was so mean to our sweet baby wall boy

So....Brahms with a reader who's like sweet n motherly even before they knew he was living in the walls because our baby needs some love..

Make sure you drink some water and have a wonderful day/night

Mwah <3

Ooo I love this! I do agree that the second movie was bleh but Brahms deserves love! He has so much messed up trauma he just needs love!!

Brahms x Motherly Reader

Word count: 😬

An: I may have went a bit overboard on this.

I had always loved children from a young age. I was used to raising my siblings and cousins alike, so babysitting was no problem for me at all. I had just recently moved to rural England, and sadly as it may seem finding work was a tad bit… complicated. Through it was my luck that I miraculously found an ad in the paper for a lovely couple needing someone to babysit their young son. Now I expected many things a quaint little cottage with an old frame maybe, but what I didn’t expect was a two story building that looked like it was from the Victorian era. The couple were very sweet. Although, I did find it albeit strange that the child I was supposed to babysit was a doll. I didn’t voice these thoughts, as it was quite obvious some sort of trauma coping mechanism was in the background with this ‘family’. All I did was simply smile and say hello to the young boy.

“Hello Brahms. I think we are going to be good friends!”

The parents paid me well, and to keep myself occupied they had a large and vast library with an astonishing assortment of books and novels. I had a very set schedule that I was to follow as I cared for Brahms. I was to get up and wake him gently and then get him ready for the day. I then had to prepare him breakfast. Alongside caring for Brahms I had to tend to the garden slightly as well as resetting the mouse traps in the basement. I continued this routine for what seemed like months before the sounds started. I first noticed it as I was reading to Brahms one day in the library. I had picked a simple book of fables and I was giving voices to the characters within it. I would show Brahms the pictures that were in the book and every so often I absentmindedly caressed the boys head. The strange thing was that when I did this I would hear a bang within the wall closest to me. Now it was merely me being curious after it had happened a couple of times. I had just thought that the home was old and it creaked and cracked every so often. I started to notice however that the thud would purposefully happen on the dot every time I caressed Brahms’s head. I paused in my reading momentarily and stroked the dolls head again.

THUD!

This one was louder than the others.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

I heard movement within the walls.

“It’s alright.”

I assumed the sounds that I was hearing was simply just a woodland creature that had slipped into the walls to avoid the cold.

“You can come out I won’t hurt you I promise.”

Now I expected a possum or even a raccoon to come out, but I wasn’t ready for a fully grown man to step out of the walls to stand in front of me.

I tried my best to remain calm so that I could think of a way to call the cops.

“Oh um hello there! Was it you making the noises?”

I heard a faint noise come from the man in front of me.

“Pretty.”

I flushed slightly. Well I wasn’t expecting that. Maybe violence or anger, but certainly not him calling me pretty!

“W-would you like to read with me?”

I panicked. I didn’t know what else I was supposed to do!

These events have now led me to having a grown man with a mask listen to me read as I stroked his head.

Well… at least the pay is good.

#writers on tumblr #female writers #writerscommunity #writerscorner #writer things #brahms heelsire #brahms hillshire #brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms x reader #brahms the doll #brahms x you #requests🌹#writings🌺

96 notes · View notes

fizziepopangel · 1 month ago

Text

* Author's note: Hey, everyone! I know I've been slacking on posting, but I'm definitely getting back into writing and I'm happy to give you guys this Alastor fic! Please do keep in mind that English is the only language I speak fluently though, so I did my best to translate two phrases into Creole via Google translate and internet research, so forgive me if I botched it and let me know kindly if I need to fix it. Also, as usual, I don't know the artist for the drawing so if anyone knows, please let me know so I can tag them. Other than that, enjoy!! ~ Fizzie

P. S. "Mwen manke ou"= I miss you, "Mwen renmen ou manman"= I love you, mama

Mama's Boy

Alastor woke up feeling… off somehow. His heart felt heavier for some reason, and although he still wore his signature smile, he felt no joy within himself as he walked the halls of the hotel today; not even when Husk slipped on Niffty’s freshly waxed floors and crashed into the hall table. And everyone had noticed it. He heard the whispers, saw the strange looks they all gave him as he passed them. He ignored it all until he went back to the room, feeling rather drained from carrying this heavy feeling with him all day despite it only being midmorning… But as he took off his coat and hung it on the rack, the calendar caught his eyes.

“May 28th… How could I have forgotten..” Alastor said softly, looking at the circled date. He muttered under his breath as he made his way over to the bed and gingerly picked up the photo on his nightstand. Running his thumb along the framed photo, he lets out a soft sigh, almost as if he could breathe this heavy feeling that settled in his chest if he tried… But he knew he couldn’t. He never could.

“Mwen manke ou….” He whispered, looking into the glass of the photo’s frame and trying to focus on just the photo and not his own reflection in it. “I can’t believe how much I miss you, mother.”

He stared at the photo, breathing deeply and willing himself not to cry as he seemed to relive memory after memory of times when his smile wasn't so fake.

“Hey, Smiles! Charlie said dinner’s almost done!” Angel Dust called through the door enthusiastically as he knocked, but Alastor couldn’t bring himself to answer as he continued to stare at the photo in his now trembling hands. “Smiles? You in there?” Alastor wanted to respond, but he just couldn’t pull his focus away from the photo in his hands. He didn’t even register the sound of his door open or the feeling of the bed sinking a little bit as Angel sat beside him. There was a moment of quiet between the two as Angel looked at the picture the man held. He frowned, knowing that the radio demon didn’t like pictures so he couldn’t imagine him keeping one….

A woman with deep tan skin stood in the old framed photo, her mouth opened and eyes closed in what Angel could only imagine was a boisterous laugh as the child she held in her arms gave the camera an innocent gap toothed grin. The woman wore a tattered apron, but she had smears of something across her cheek and the curls that could be seen peeking out from beneath the head scarf she wore seemed to be coated in what he assumed was flour. The little one in her arms seemed to be covered in it too….

Everything about the photo made Angel ache for home.

“Oh… Is…Is that….?” Angel muttered softly as he looked at the photo the other man held, something clicking in his brain. Alastor nodded, tears starting to spill down his cheeks despite the cheshire cat smile on his lips. “Alastor…”

Before the spider demon could say anything more, Alastor’s shaky voice cut him off. “Her name was Delphine.” Alastor stroked the frame over his mother’s image, his ears tucking back as he felt the well of sadness begin to swirl within him. “She… died a few years before I did.”

“Is she-”

As if sensing the question on Angel’s tongue before it even falls off, the radio demon shakes his head, chuckling through his tears. “My mother was as pure as they came, she….” His voice cracked and his smile faltered as the dam of emotions finally began to break. “She always belonged among the saints….”

That was the first time since he entered hell that he had ever really spoken to anyone about his mother…. All the talk Charlie did of redemption made him think of her from time to time, and maybe he had let his guard down around a certain barkeep after a few too many drinks that were just a bit too strong, but this was the first time he truly admitted to himself that he would never see her again given the fact that he knew he deserved to rot right where he was and she…. never deserves to see even a hint of the tamest parts of the realm he'd damned himself to….

Angel sat there, not sure what to say or do as he watched the radio demon facade crack; the perma-smile that had sat unnervingly on his lips seemed to waver and his perfect posture dropped as tears slowly made their way down the sinner’s cheeks.

Angel hesitated for a moment before he rested a hand on Alastor’s shoulder, hoping that in this moment of vulnerability the demon wouldn't mind being touched. “I-it’s ok to miss her….. ya know, I think about my mom and my sister every day….. I…. I miss them a lot…”

Despite himself, Alastor felt a sob bubbling up from somewhere deep inside of him finally ripping free. His shoulders shook and snot dripped from his nose as he tried to hide his face, his smile vanishing without so much as a trace. He felt like a child as he sat there blubbering but he couldn't stop himself from crying the more he thought about his mother.

As the radio demon struggled to contain his sobs, a pair of arms encircled him and pull him close against a thin but solid frame.

“Just…. Let it out, Smiles…” Angel said in his gentlest tone, pulling the other demon against his chest and holding him as he cried. “It’s ok.”

The two sat there like that for what felt like hours, but the clock on Alastor’s bedside table told them that it had only been a few minutes before the tears seemed to stop. They both sat there, neither comfortable enough to break the silence they found themselves in until a soft knock brought them both out of the heavy, daze they both seemed to be in.

“Alastor?” Charlie called through the door. “Everyone’s already eating dinner…. We were gonna wait for you, but it was getting cold….” Her words were hesitant. “Alastor?”

The radio demon straightened up at the sound of his name, and as if he had rehearsed it, he began drying his eyes and smoothing his clothes, his signature smile plastered across his face. It baffled Angel…. He was used to faking smiles, acting however he had to to please whatever audience was in front of him at any given moment, but he had never thought of anyone else having that same ability, and certainly not someone like Alastor.

As Alastor grabbed his staff and headed toward the door, Angel grabbed his arm, unable to stop himself. “Ya know… You don’t have to go to dinner if you don’t wanna…” There was a flash of something in Alastor’s eyes. Most would have mistaken it for annoyance or anger, but Angel knew that look. “I’ll save ya a plate and bring it up later.”

“Thank you.” A genuine smile crossed the man’s face, probably the first one Angel had ever seen, apart from the one that came with near manic laughter whenever Lucifer tripped and face-planted over something the radio demon’s shadow left out solely for that purpose. But this wasn’t that, this was something softer, something that reminded Angel of the woman in the picture.

Angel left, catching up with Charlie about halfway down the stairs. “Hey, wait up!”

“Oh, I just came from your room.” Charlie said, looking mildly concerned. “What happened? I thought you were going to get Alastor for dinner?”

“Oh, uh, yeah… Smiles said he had a headache, so he ain’t comin’ down.” Angel said as they made their way downstairs. “I told him we’d save him a plate.”

Seeming to accept the answer, Charlie nodded and continued down the stairs, already beginning to talk the spider demon’s ear off as they made their way to the kitchen. Neither of them noticed the radio demon’s shadow slithering along the walls, back to his room.

Alastor sat on the edge of his bed, the photo of him and his mother in his hands. “I trust Angel Dust was…. discrete about our little heart to heart?” He asks, not bothering to look up from the photo as his shadow slipped into the room. When his shadow nodded, he let out a breath he hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding until then. “Good.”

Looking back down at the photo, he let one more soft, genuine smile grace his features. He let his finger gently stroke the photo through the glass, ignoring the fresh round of tears threatening to spill. “Mwen renmen ou manman….”

#fizziepop thoughts #fizzie's fics #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #the radio demon #angel dust hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #the radio demon is a mama's boy #radiodust #platonic radiodust #alastor has a photo

23 notes · View notes

yoyomomiko · 1 month ago

Text

"You're not leaving."

Pairings: Witch!Shinobu x F!reader

Summary: After passing out in an unknown forest due to harsh wounds while trying to escape your arranged marriage, you wake up in a small hut. What you didn't know, was that the woman who helped you refused to let you go and roam free.

Warnings: BLOOD; wounds, slight yandere (not really).

(A/N): With how slow I'm writing, I'm not sure I'll finish every single fic on my Halloween special (⁠ᗒ⁠ᗩ⁠ᗕ⁠) I'll try my best!! Anyways, this fic was a little bit rushed towards the end, and it may have some mistakes... -> halloween m.list

The twigs snapped underneath your bare, bruised feet as you forced yourself to continue. The leaves trembled every time you passed through a bush, the birds chirping around you.

You were bleeding from your arm; where your mother had thrown a shattered piece of a vase at you. From your feet; from running without any shoes. From your knees; when you fell down the stairs while trying to get away from your fiance. You had a few cuts and holes in your clothes from the branches, and also a few bruises here and there.

You tried ignoring the pain and your sore, dry throat. Your lips were cracked and you couldn't go on. You've been running for too long, and back home, you didn't have time to drink water. It's been almost hours since you've drank anything, if you recall correctly.

Your head was spinning, chest heaving up and down. It hurt to breathe, and each step you took only fed into the agony. You felt the need to rip out a scream from the top of your lungs, feeling nauseous, your mind a blur.

Your eyelids drooped down, threatening to close completely. Your consciousness was slowly slipping away, feeling your eyes roll back as you made contact with the ground, the world blacking out.

...

Your eyelashes fluttered open, breathing heavily. Your whole body felt numb, unable to properly move. You tried to move around, but all you did was cause pain.

You looked around, observing your surroundings. It was a small room, and all it had was a bed, an oven, a small carpet and two shelves that went from empty bottles to filled ones, books and so many unidentifiable objects.

It was pretty dusty, but only in a few places. You noticed that it wasn't too messy, mostly organized and clean.

What you also noticed, was that your wounds were now bandaged, your clothes changed into a bright, simple and white dress. It didn't hurt so bad anymore, they were clean, properly washed and then left to heal properly. Another thing you realized, was that the smaller cuts and bruises were no where to be seen.

"You've awoken." You heard a soft voice, turning your head to the sound of it.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to harm you." The beautiful woman spoke again, a small smile on her face.

"Where am I? Who are you? What am I doing here? What happened?" You questioned, frantically looking around the small room as she let out a chuckle.

"One question at once, please." She leaned over to you, inches away from your face, wich caused you to blush.

"Where am I?" You asked, scanning her beautiful face.

"You're in my hut." She replied, her smile widening.

"Who are you...?" Your breath got heavier, chest heaving up and down.

"Ah, of course! I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Kochou Shinobu." She closed her eyes for a few seconds, before slowly opening them, now half lidded.

"What's with the... Weird hat? And all the bottles, and those... Things on the shelves?" You asked again, squinting your eyes at the unidentifiable objects that were sat on the shelves.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm a witch!" Shinobu giggled out, her small hand covering her lips.

Your eyes widened. You didn't believe her, she was for sure delusional. First, it was your fiance's father talking about some 'demons', and now witches? Those were children's stories, the ones where little kids would fear disobeying their parents, afraid a witch would steal them away.

"You're not." You disagreed, shaking your head.

"I'm not?" Shinobu let out a chuckle, a genuine smile stuck to her face. "Then how come I almost fully healed you? It's called magic, dear." She explained, your eyes darting to where your smaller injuries were fully healed.

"But this isn't true... It can't be true, witches don't exist..." You murmured, your head feeling empty, your mind long lost.

"Really? Well I suppose I'm not real, then." She shrugged, smile fading.

"You're not a bad witch, are you?" You asked, feeling like a toddler.

"I did help you, didn't I?"

"You did..." You nodded your head, all of the sudden blushing.

You tried sitting up, only to wince in pain and lay back down onto the hard mattress.

"What were you doing running through the woods like that? It's dangerous, filled with monsters."

You realized she was referring to those 'demons' or whatever they were. You fiddled with your thumbs, fidgeting with anything you could lay your hands on.

"Trying to escape my family. My fiance, and my whole life at once..." You muttered a response, glancing away as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"Mhm, I get it." She nodded, figuring out what caused you to run away.

She softly placed her hand on top of your forehead, checking your temperature and making sure you don't have a fever.

"Are you a doctor or something?" You asked, a smirk on your lips as she retracted her hand from your face.

"You could say that." Her hand was now tracing your chest, making circles all around. You felt your heart beat faster, your chest rising up and down heavily as your breath hitched.

"Don't be so scared now." She kept her smile, giving you a sly look, a pink tint covering her cheeks as well.

Her hand trailed down, way down, too close to where you weren't sure you wanted it to be. She then pushed her own hand off, turning around, her back facing you.

"Where- Where are you going?" You stuttered out a question, eyes widening.

"To fetch you some water." She replied, walking out of the hut. You turned your gaze away from the door, feeling your cheeks burn and your heart thump loudly in your chest.

Where you seriously falling in love with a witch?

You heard footsteps, thinking that she's coming back as she swiftly opened the door, walking up to you with water. She handed it to you as you drank it all, taking big sips.

You tried shuffling against the bed, wich wasn't too comfortable, but was definetly better than the floor.

"I wet a cloth and tapped your lips with it, they were dry and I figured you were thirsty, but you wouldn't wake up."

"Thank you, for everything... I mean- really! But uh, I have to go now." You spoke up, glancing away a few times.

Her lips formed a thin line, smile fading in an instant as she just stared at you. The cute look on her face immediately gone.

"Where are you going to go then?" She asked through her gritted teeth, wich slightly scared you.

"I wanted to go live with my-"

"You're not leaving."

Her words came out like venom, hissing them out. You tried to keep repeating in your head that she's not a bad witch, but it could have been a lie.

You felt vulnerable underneath her piercing gaze, scared to move or make a sound. Now that you took your time to look at her face, she seemed intimidating. Her soft features forming one of anger and something else you couldn't quite make out.

"You're staying with me, whether you like it or not." The corners of her lips tugged upwards, except this smile wasn't cute anymore, but instead creepily disturbing.

Your brows furrowed together, feeling panic race through your veins, your breathing growing heavier.

★yoyomiko ★miko

48 notes · View notes

miguelswifey04 · 1 year ago

Note

What if bubbly!reader passes away but Miguel still has to go to work but breaks down every few hours because he’s reminded of of something she did like bring him lunch or go hang out and cuddle with him while he worked and Peter b and everyone else helps comfort him yet that still reminds him of reader

you’re gonna make me break my own heart 😕 actually this gonna be the first time i write a death of a character, so let’s get into it 💔💔

miguel o’hara x bubbly! reader

warnings: reader’s death; angst

just like the wind comes and goes, you left behind a precious family, your friends, your loved ones, and miguel. you were a ray of sunshine for miguel’s darkest hours now his darkest hours had turned into his darkest days where you were no longer around to keep him going. if you are gone how is miguel supposed to live? how is he supposed to move on?

miguel had lost every little thing he could not hold onto, including you. what were you supposed to do when someone you truly loved dies? was miguel supposed to cope? was miguel to pretend to keep it going even if you weren’t by his side cheering him on and being supportive? these were the kind of questions everyone thought when they saw a melancholic miguel. a part of him died that day when you slipped away through his fingers. he couldn’t save you just like he couldn’t save his own daughter. now, surely that’ll eat him alive—his own heartbreak would be his own cause of death.

everywhere miguel goes, every smell and every thought connected to a song reminds him of you. no matter how hard he tries to be himself, no matter how hard he tries to cope—he cannot be the same person he was when you were alive, as if he can never be the same again. he tries to carry the burdens of the world on his shoulders but he finds himself cracking at the seams. he breaks down as he reminisces on the memories of you. the way you shined so brightly like a star high in the sky…or the way your smiled so big that made his heart ache that he can no longer appreciate that. the simple acts of kindness from yours truly, like you bringing him lunch or proving him that comfort and love he needed. the way you reassured him that he would never be alone.

“miguel, as long as you have me you’ll never be alone..i promise i won’t ever leave you..”

words were left empty, and promises left unfulfilled. how dare you slip away and not stay by his side, and grow old together…how dare the universe punish miguel when he himself is trying to save it..

“i love you so much, and you’re such a hardworking man. please never feel as if you have to shoulder these burdens alone. your burdens are mine to share.”

the pain had become unbearable. and it had become difficult for miguel to find solace in his daily routine. peter b and the others, observe miguel’s struggles and offer him support in their own ways.

“hey miguel? i’m sorry about them..i know how much they meant to you.” the same sentence gutted miguel and ripped his heart to shreds. they’d offer listening ears and comforting words, even sharing their own stories and memories of you. while their efforts bring miguel some comfort, they also intensify his grief, as they serve as constant reminders of the one he lost.

though time slowly passes, miguel has seemed to forgot the memories of your face..it’s not longer etched in his mind, and the way your voice sounded was now just but a distant memory. maybe, it was for the best for miguel to forgot about you and move on. maybe just maybe it may have been what you wanted. now, you’re a soul lingering in the vast universe with no memory of what your last life was, and maybe in another universe you could have had your happily ever after with miguel.

-yours truly

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @meeom @sabcandoit @emiemiemiii @obi-mom-kenobi

#spiderman atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #atsv x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #🌱 lin writes #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x y/n #lin’s asks #♡´･ᴗ･`♡ lin answers #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara x bubbly! reader #reader death #tw death

189 notes · View notes

fayetape · 6 months ago

Text

“Flame” by Fayetape

Finnick Odair x Reader

Word count: 1854

CW: Angst, typical THG stuff

Summary of series: Reader and Finnick met when they were very young. They experience the horrors of Panem together as they grow up. Throughout the years they fight for a happy ending. Whatever that may look like… Angst/Fluff/Smut/Series/Minimal use of Y/N!

Important note: The reader starts out very young but there is a time skip, don’t worry!

Hey everyone! My name is Faye. This is my first story I’ve ever published on here. I’m very new to this. This is the first part of my series “Flame” I hope you guys enjoy! Feel free to leave any constructive criticism or suggestions in the comments :)

Chapter One: Promises

A short white dress was displayed on her twin-sized mattress. The dress was beautiful. White and lacy. Tied with small, delicate ribbons on the shoulders and in the middle of the chest. Any other day she would have been delighted to have found such a gift. She knew what it meant. Reaping day. Her first one too. All the people of district four get dressed up in their sunday-best to be forced to watch as two of their children ages 12-18 get sent off to the games, almost certain to die. This time her life was part of the draw. She had no other choice but to put on the dress. Against her own will she kept thinking about this process as if it was one of her last times ever to do such a simple thing. Last time undressing. Last time tying a ribbon. She sighed anxiously and put on a pair of white tights and black buckle mary-janes. It felt like she was preparing herself to die or dressing herself up for her own funeral. She heard the sizzle and cracks of her mom cooking in the kitchen. Her mother had been quiet lately. She had a thought. It’s because she knows her daughter has a chance to be taken from her, even when her daughter is all she has, the capitol spares no mercy. Disturbed by these thoughts, the girl walked past her mother without saying a word, only exchanging a sullen glance as she turned the handle of the front door.

“Y/N! Hey!” a recognizable voice yelled in the distance.

“Finnick! Hi.” She was excited to see him, but today there could only be but so much happiness in her voice.

He walked over to her and put an arm around her shoulder, “I like your dress.”

She didn’t say anything in response.

“Look, I know today is scary, but your name is only in that bowl once out of hundreds of other slips. You’re gonna be fine.”

Finnick was older. He had already gone through the horrors of being part of the reaping for two years now. He knew how to navigate it, at least more than she did. He took upon himself some unassigned duty to protect her from the moment they met. This was the one thing he couldn’t shield her from and it made him feel unsettled. The very least he could do is be realistic and try his best to console her. He looked down at her. She was still quiet. He let go of her shoulder and held her hand. He stroked her hand with his thumb and led her into a nearby field. They would go here when things got hard. Not that they would talk about it much. Not many people knew about it or dared to explore it. Technically it was off-bounds to district four and they knew they could get in a lot of trouble with the peacekeepers. Regardless, they both agreed that a little bit of risk was healthy. He checked in all directions to make sure nobody was watching before he reached ahead to pull branches aside to clear a path. The landscape never failed to hypnotize them. A luscious field with an array of diverse greenery and wildflowers sloping down a hill to the marsh. The sound of light wind blowing through the grass and the small creek bubbling instantly calmed their nerves. Even Finnicks, as much as he tried to hide his fear.

They pushed through the tall grass onto the path they carved out several years ago. Walking until they got to the bottom of the tall, gentle hill. He always loved the water. He let go of her hand and he sat down on the damp ground. He shot her a glance proposing her to sit down.

“I don’t want to get my dress dirty.”

“You mean your MOM doesn’t want you to get your dress dirty. Since when did you care about dirt?”

He was right. She lifted up the skirt of her dress and sat down on a patch of grass that looked cleaner than the rest.

He looked over at her, a few feet away, “Not gonna dare to get any closer, huh?” He always flirted like this. Bold enough to get her attention, but sly enough to give her plausible deniability.

“Today is the one day I can’t get messy. Tomorrow I’ll take more of a risk, okay?”

He laughed, “See? You do know that it is going to be okay!”

“What?”

“You said tomorrow. You know deep down that it’s gonna be fine.”

She rolled her eyes, “I just forgot about it for a second..”

That was good enough for him. They sat in silence for a few minutes listening to the sounds of the bugs and frogs in the marsh.

“Hey,” he said.

“I’m not moving closer.”

“Fine.” He scooted closer to her.

Instinctively she put her head on his shoulder. He smiled.

“Finn? Can you promise me something?”

“Yes?”

“Promise you’ll always take care of me like this ?”

“Yes.” He said without any hesitation.

“You promise?”

“Of course.”

“I need to hear you say it,” she said.

“I promise. You know I’ll always take care of you. I won’t leave you alone, love.”

After that she just stared at him for a while, “Okay,” she said and looked back at the morning sky.

“Hey,” he said in a quiet voice.

She looked over at him and he nervously grabbed her chin and pulled her in. She didn’t resist. The two stared at each other with their faces so close before he leaned in and gave her a swift kiss on the lips before letting go.

They sat in silence for a bit. “Was that okay?” He asked nervously.

Through slightly labored breath she said, “Yeah. Of course.”

He smiled, “Was I your first?”

“No,” She giggled playfully.

Matching her demeanor, “Yeah right.”

“How would you know? Maybe I kissed that boy on Dove Street.”

“You don’t even know his name!” He exclaimed, “Plus I worked my ass off to keep those dumbass neighborhood boys

off of you.”

“Yeah whatever!” She said and swept sand onto his lap.

He dramatically put his hand over his chest, “How could you!” and splashed dirty water in her direction.

“Finnick!”

“You started it!” It was too

late, her dress was already muddied. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Baby?”

“Sorry. Was that not okay?” he asked her.

“No. No. It’s okay,” she paused, “Are we dating?”

He laughed at her innocence. “If that’s what you want.”

“Is that what you want?” she asked anxiously.

“Of course.”

“Okay then.”

“Okay then,” he confirmed.

Just as he was about to kiss her again, they heard the sound of the warning bell.

“Shit.” He pulled her up and they ran back up the hill away towards their town.

Once they got out of the field they ran their separate ways towards their houses, breathlessly exchanging goodbye glances.

Panting and sweating she ran across the railroad tracks towards her small house. Slowing down once she could see the white paint chipping off the frame. She heard the front screen door slam shut.

“Where have you been?” Her mother yelled, “What the hell happened to your dress?”

Catching her breath she tried to find a believable excuse. Before she could explain her mother grabbed her arm and dragged her inside.

“Were you with that boy again? He’s so disrespectful.”

Her mother was always one to hold a grudge. She couldn’t let go of the time that Finnick purposely broke one of her daughter’s toys when they were younger. Ever since then she thought of him as a bully, even though he was only eight at the time and wasn’t trying to be malicious.

“No,” She tried lying.

Her mother didn’t say anything in response and just continued to wipe down her dress with a wet rag.

Her mother smoothed out her dress, “Come on. Let’s go.”

They hurried their way to the town square.

“You’re gonna be fine.” Her mother kissed the top of her head. “I love you.”

“Love you too, mom.”

They separated and she was pushed forward by the peacekeepers before she could even look back. They pricked her finger and checked her into the drawing system. Her throat burned and there was suddenly a deeper hole of anxiety in her chest. Reality was setting in. Her eyes darted across the space searching for Finnick. Panicking when she couldn’t find him.

“Hey,” He said on the other side of the barrier.

Her shoulders untensed ever so slightly. She smiled at him.

The chatter of the crowd stopped as the stage microphone rang out ear piercing frequencies.

“Ahem,” the announcer decorated in a ridiculous, loud purple dress spoke, “Welcome to the 65th annual Hunger Games!”

As if waiting for an applause the woman paused, “Alright then. We won’t waste anymore time here.”

She dipped her hand into the bowl swirling the strips of paper. “And the female tribute for the 65th annual Hunger Games iss…”

The girl held her breath. Feeling like she was going to faint or die right then and there.

“Julianne Halmbern!” the crowd gasped.

The pit in the girl's stomach disappeared for a split second. Not her this year. Then it set in. A girl who lived on the poorer side of the district. She hardly knew her but she still felt sickenly guilty for being relieved. Another person she knew would be sent to almost certain death. She watched as the crowd parted, making a path for the poor blonde girl, Julianne. She was stiff in fear and disbelief as she was guided up on stage.

“And the male tribute iss…”

“Finnick Odair!” The announcer exclaimed as if she had just announced the lottery.

Y/N’s stomach dropped. No. No. The crowd parted and revealed sweet Finnick. She watched his every move. She watched as he stood there in utter shock, then as he took small steps up to the stage.

“Finnick!” she cried out.

The peacekeepers were getting impatient as they ushered him to the front. “It’s okay!” he yelled out to her.

She wanted to run to him. The older girl next to her noticed her expression and held her arm protectively preventing her from charging the boy. “Finnick!”

He stepped onto the stage, hiding tears in his eyes as she yelped out for him. He thought the sound of her screams was more disturbing than getting chosen like this. Even in this moment he felt the need to console her. Before the woman in the obnoxious dress could say anything else he yelled, “Y/N! I promise! Okay? I promise!”

She nodded through her sobs. She knew he was promising to make it back to her. He vowed not to leave her alone. She tried her best to believe him. To trust him. Her thoughts raced. He was a career. He trained for this. He’s going to be okay. No. He’s fourteen. He can’t. I can’t- No. She cried harder.

And they took him away.

#finnick odair #thg finnick #finnick x reader #finnick x you #hunger games #self insert #finnick odair angst #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair series #finnick odair x reader angst #finnick odair x reader series

34 notes · View notes

thegnomelord · 10 months ago

Note

okay i finally caved and wanted to talk about my idea for a nishruu inspired monster of sorts? i just enjoy rambling a little bit as you may be able to tell

so nishruu. red whisps that endlessly hunt down magic and magical items to sate their hunger, so these creatures are a nightmare for mages and magic wielders. all of my knowledge for these guys comes from dnd, so ill have to take a few creative liberties but im not complaining! pure nishruus are rare - as well as humans that have under some circumstances become fused with these little magic eaters. they're slightly similar to wraiths - having whispy bodies that are impossible to contain considering how they can slip through even the smallest of cracks. they look... mostly human, besides the way their forearms, into their hands, fade into a red mist that flows off of their form, and how they can turn fully into whisps and slip away. these half-nishruus rely on magic to sustain themselves the same, so it isn't uncommon for these acceptionally rare monsters to seek out mages or other magic wielders and make a deal. i really love symbiosis - and considering that half-nishruus have human intelligence, making a deal is typically the best plan for them.

the deals are usually simple - in exchange for some magic to keep them sustained, the nishruus will fight to keep the person they made the deal with alive. after all, it's wise for them to keep their... supplier? alive, considering how many magic wielders will likely throw salt the second they see red whisps. oh, and nishruus main weaknesses are salt. it deals damage similar to poison to them. some magic wielders have even been spotted with sealed amulets containing a strange red substance inside, containing these nishruus until battle comes, where they release the magic eaters (which are likely very hungry) to aid them against any enemies who may have magical weapons or spells

also just imagining a nishruu hybrid crawling over to ifrit and begging for a deal, then ifrit keeps them like a pokemon lmao

-🪸

Okay this is cool and got me brain doing the hyperfocusing thingy so here's a noncannon blurb with Ifrit set at a time when Ifrit's been, mostly, redeemed lol. Probably doesn't make much sense but idk

You stare at Price, unmoving, unblinking. Then your gaze slowly slides to the man sitting across Price's desk. Corporal Simmons shrinks into himself, shoulders hunching and looking down, unable to meet your eyes. He doesn't know why he feels like a little boy in your presence, he's your superior for fuck's sake, but the way you look at him. . . if fucking scares him.

Finally, you speak, voice softer than Simmons expected it to be. It only makes the cold edge to it press against his throat harder. "Captain, with all due respect, which is none." You say, your hard gaze falling back to Captain Price. "What the fuck?"

Price lets out a low sigh, already done with your shit yesterday. "Don't make me write you up private." You both know he won't, you've said and done worse things than this. "You heard me clearly."

"Yeah, I heard you." You say, unable to hide the way your muscles tense, your fingers curled into fists. "I just don't understand why I have to keep the damn leech alive."

Simmon's tries to speak up, "Hey, I'm not-"

"Shut your mouth." The way you say it leaves no room for argument. Even without using magic, Simmons can feel the way it simmers beneath your skin, like lava bubbling beneath the earth. So plentiful and vast it makes his mouth water, stomach coiling itself into knots as red smoke fizzles at his fingers. God, he's so hungry, he hasn't eaten in weeks.

"Captain, there are other mages that would be more than happy to have this parasite attached to them." You grunt, motioning loosely to Simmons. "I don't get why I have to feed the damn thing." You make your disgust for Simmon's painfully clear.

"That's enough private." Price's growl forces you to listen, your attention on him as he stands. "This is an order." His hand reaches out to grip your chin, his touch making your skin prickle even when the balaclava you wear dampens the touch. "You will follow." His blue eyes stare into yours, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. It's almost endearing, the way he does it, but you know enough about dragons to see the hidden dominance in his touch. "Am I clear?"

You feel yourself frown, your eyes narrowing. "If it tries anything funny I'm taking it behind the barn and putting it down."

"Ifrit." The latter half of your callsign rolls off his tongue into a low rumble. Price tightens the hold on your chin, making it clear you're skirting the line of how much you can push before he needs to tan your ass to get some obedience back in you.

It makes your lightning prickle beneath your skin, "Yes sir." You grumble. "I understand."

"Good mage." He tuts and lets you go, "Dismissed."

You nod your head, your eye catching Simmon's as you turn to your heel. "Follow." You say, the sharpness in your voice making him scramble out of his seat after you. He sticks close to you as you walk through the hallways until you reach the training area, the walls and floors singed and blackened from weeks of training.

"Just so you know." You say, turning to look at Simmons. "As far as I'm concerned, death would suit you better." You say as you take off your glove, revealing the cooled mana texture of your mage marks. You hold your hand out, your fingertips starting to glow as you let a bit of mana flow to your palms.

Simmon's nearly stumbles over his feet, hands reaching out to hold your hand. He can't help but moan as he presses his lips to your palm, the smoke coming from his arms curling around your skin. He feels like a starving man finally getting a glass of water, feeling the mana flow into his body. He feels hot, his tongue tingles like he's just eaten something spicy, but god if feels wonderful.

He doesn't think he's ever met a mage with so much plentiful mana as you, his teeth nibbling on the volcanic chunks of your palm as he devours more mana. It curls in his belly, traveling through his veins, making him feel so warm and he just wants more, more, More—

"That's enough." You growl, pulling your hand back and quickly putting your glove back on. "Should be enough for a week." You grunt, leaving him standing where he is.

#gnome's tea break #gnome correspondence #🪸anon #hell has a basement floor series #non cannon #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #cod modern warfare #cod x reader

77 notes · View notes

angelasscribbles · 11 months ago

Text

Solace

Fandom: Heaven’s Secret

Pairings: Adi x MC

Word Count: 1,647

Rating: NSFW

Warnings for this chapter: Lemons 🍋🍋🍋

A/N: So I rewrote the one and only sex scene RC gave us for these two because I thought there was a lot of untapped emotion there.

My other stuff: Master List.

Image Credit: Romance Club official Instagram.

Adi had stopped talking. I didn’t want to press him, but I wasn’t leaving him alone, so I studied the unused ballroom I had followed him to.

The window we stood in front of was magnificent, blue, green, and purple stained glass stretching from floor to ceiling and sparkling in the early afternoon sun. Ivy grew through the cracks of the crumbling brick surrounding the window, giving the entire room an abandoned feel.

Tables and chairs were stacked along the far wall, but the vast majority of the room was empty and even our hushed voices seemed to reverberate in the silence.

“How do you deal with grief on earth?” His voice was laced with so much pain it rendered me speechless for a moment. My body and heart were frozen by the anguish in his tone.

When I didn’t answer, he elaborated. “People die so often there….”

Like my mother.

Like me.

The image of my father’s grief-stricken face swam before my eyes.

What did I know about healing? I was still raw and ragged from the loss of my own mortal life. And despite the fact that she had died when I was very young, I was not over my mother’s death. Although, with time, I had learned to live with it.

I gave him the best answer I had. “There’s nothing to do but give it time.”

“Time to do what? To go crazy?” He covered his face with one hand and turned away, hiding the tears that slipped unbidden from his eyes, streaking his cheeks, giving proof of his sorrow and heartbreak.

I had no words of comfort to offer. I knew from experience that no matter how well-meaning, words were meaningless, offering little solace against the wretched misery of loss.

“Adi…” I stepped up behind him and wrapped my arms around him. I pressed my body tightly against his trying to convey with physical touch all the love and grief in my heart. For Sammy, but also for him.

For my sweet, sarcastic, adventure-loving Adi. My heart broke for him. The one left behind. The one forced to pick up the pieces and go on living somehow. There is nothing that prepares you for a loss of that magnitude. No road map that tells you where to go, no playbook that tells you what to do, no guide that tells you what you’re going to feel or how to overcome it.

He was drowning in hopelessness, and I was desperate to pull him back. To pull myself back.

Because once I opened the door that grief lived behind, it all came pouring out. I may have started crying because of Sammy, but as the sobs tore through my body, I was suddenly grieving every loss I’d ever had, every bit of pain I had been shoving down deep inside came crashing through the wall I tried so desperately to keep in place. Growing up without my mother, being ripped away from my father in the prime of my life, losing the purest soul I’d met here, watching Adi sink into desolation and plunge toward despair.

He spun abruptly in my arms, so we were facing each other. He buried his head in the side of my neck as sobs wracked his body. He was crying. I was crying. We clung to each other as if our lives depended on it.

Pain, anguish, and inconsolable grief raged through us both. And yet we did console each other. Our bodies pressed together gave some slight comfort. The warmth of his body, the firmness of his embrace, the life struggling within him, called to the life struggling within me.

He was so close. His body pressed into mine, his breath on my neck, his fingers digging into my back, all gave rise to a different, but just as primal, emotion.

One moment we were crying in each other’s arms, and then suddenly we were kissing. His lips crashed against mine. Our tears mingled together. All the pain and anguish transmuted into something hotter as passion flared into existence.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” With several deep shuddering breaths, he pulled away and wiped at the wetness coating his cheeks.

I stood rooted to the spot. “Adi?”

He lifted his eyes to mine; bare inches separated us. I could feel his energy pulsing between us. The mood in the room had shifted.

He lunged forward, grabbing me around the waist and yanking me back to him. His mouth was on me again, fervent kisses trailing down my jawline and dancing across my neck. His hands pulled frantically at my clothes.

I responded in kind, letting the fire of ardor temporarily burn away the endless aching agony of grief.

My clothes lay in a heap on the floor. I was naked before him. He pulled back long enough to gasp out, “Are you sure?”

I nodded my consent, my head too clouded with an overwhelming assault of conflicting emotions to speak.

He spun me around so my back was to him and spread my arms above my head, forcing me to rest them against the stained glass.

And I let him. I let him because I understood this wasn’t about love or even sex. It was about finding a way back from all that pain, finding a way to beat back the grief through the most basic affirmation of life.

He entered me roughly. I rested my cheek against the sun-heated glass and let my mind go blank to everything but the prurient primordial sensations that were cascading through my body.

His hand covered mine, fingers twining as he slammed into me again and again.

His body moved against mine, his energy wrapped around me, and deep, guttural sounds issued from the back of his throat, all conspiring to push me ever closer to the edge of the precipice.

I struggled to keep quiet as my naked body pressed against the smooth glass of the window, its warmth in sharp contrast to the cold bite of the ambient air surrounding us.

I failed. A high-pitched whine spiraled out of me as he pounded ruthlessly into me.

“Quiet.” his hot breath in my ear only sent me hurtling faster toward the edge.

Ignoring his directive, I threw my head back and lost myself completely in the fire that was throbbing through my body and the heat that was coiling tightly in my center.

As my whine built in both volume and pitch, his hand covered my mouth and I bit down on it, stifling my screams. I crashed over the edge and fell into the abyss, my mind blissfully unaware of everything but the pleasure pulsing through me.

He slammed into me once more, pinning my body tightly between his own and the stained glass as he exploded inside me. His sweat covered me as we slid slowly toward the ground, still pressed together.

He pulled out and sat next to me, his back thumping into the window as he gasped for air. We sat side by side, not talking but sneaking sidelong glances at each other as our breathing gradually returned to normal.

I caught his eye and gave him a small smile. He smiled back, then frowned and shook his head. “I….I’m sorry…”

“Why are you sorry?” I studied him, watching the guilt play across his face.

He didn’t meet my eyes as he stammered out, “I…it won’t happen again.”

Was the guilt because he felt he had betrayed Sammy or because he thought he had been too rough with me? Perhaps both.

I reached for his hand, entwining our fingers again. “It’s okay, Adi. It was the grief talking. It doesn’t have to mean more than that.”

It had been rough, a brutal expression of his overwhelming loss. He had needed an outlet, and I had been happy to provide it. I had borne the brunt of his pain and rage, and I would bear it again if that’s what he needed.

He finally met my eyes, rewarding me with a grateful smile, and gave my hand a squeeze. “We should…ah…we should get dressed.”

“Yep.” I agreed.

He stood and offered me his hand, pulling me to my feet. We sorted our clothes and hurriedly dressed as if we’d only just then realized that anyone could walk in and catch us.

And what had we done that was so wrong? Since when was love ever wrong? Adi and I might not have a romantic love, but the deep friendship I felt for him was love, nonetheless.

I felt anger bubble up inside me at the reminder that even though this was the afterlife, somehow my body and my heart were still being controlled by those in power. It was my body. Didn’t I have a right to do what I wanted with it? And after all, no one controls who they fall in love with, do they?

Like Sammy and Adi. By what right did the council decree that their love for each other had been wrong?

When I first arrived here, I wanted to be an angel. It seemed like a no-brainer. Angels were the good guys. So simple.

But it wasn’t simple. And the longer I was here, the less convinced I was that was the case. Not that the demons were paragons of virtue by any means, but at least they allowed themselves to feel emotions, and that made them seem much more human to me. Those very emotions were why the angels looked down on the demons.

If feeling things made you a demon, then I was beginning to think I might be one.

I followed Adi back out into the main building, sensing his energy. It was a little stronger, a little brighter than it had been before, and nothing in the universe would convince me that was a bad thing.

#heavens secret #romance club #hs fanfic #rc fanfic #vicky walker #Adi x MC #angelasscribbles

48 notes · View notes

totally-not-here-for-the-smut · 1 year ago

Note

would love to hear how the M6 handle an apprentice with a hypersomnia disorder 💛💛 someone who struggles with a lot of excessive sleepiness but really tries to push through it

Oooh, thanks for the prompt, I love it! As you didn't specify the spicy level, I'll assign ♤♡◇♧ randomly to the characters

Cracking my knuckles because it's something that hits home// The spicyness key is ◇neutral/random/funny,♡romantic/physical affection, ♧fluff/light smut,♤big dongs

So here it comes ~~~

~The hypersomniac apprentice~

~♡~

As soon as you open up to her about it, Nadia has you treated for your sleep disorder right away. Julian is sent for, and he has your treatment started by having you to keep a diary to track your sleeping, eating and exercising habits, dreams, mood, and of course any periodic cycles you may have. When he gave you the little red-line notebook, you saw an idea twinkling in Nadia's eyes, but forgot to investigate further. Shortly after, you started noticing that the palace staff you interact the most all had a tiny jade-green, golden ruled notebook with them. You wanted to ask her about it this afternoon while having tea on the veranda, but you had one of your hypersomnia episodes. When you wake up, Nadia brushes your hair from your sleepy face, greeting you with a smile. "I hope your sleep has been refreshing", she says, "in the meantime, I kept some notes for you". She handles you one of those little green notebooks that is filled, to you surprise, with little useful notes about what were you two talking about it, your immediate future agenda, the time you spent asleep and a little recap of everything that has happened.

You meet her loving gaze, speechless. "I recall how embarrassing was to ask people to fill me in on what happened during my long sleep", she explains. "I felt so cut out on the world, confused and distressed". She brushes your hand. "I made sure you will never feel as lost as I did".

~◇~

You really did try to push through this episode. Lucio looked so caught up in the game you were playing, so genuinely happy. You didn't want to let him down... but you see, trying to push through hypersomnia is awful it truly is folks, worst thing and hardly possible. Your eyelids are heavy and your neck isn't holding your head anymore. You try to rest your head against the sofa to avoid the telltale head-falling...

...but when you wake up you realize it wasn't a good idea. The lights are down, the room empty, and Lucio...? Nowhere to be seen. Your heart shrinks with guilt. You will have to apologize to him.

"Not many people know this, but Lucio has troubles sleeping. Eventually, the weight of his deeds fell upon him, robbing him of his sleep. At the beginning he started using narcotics to fall asleep, but Julian caught him immediately and made sure to put a hasty end on the dangerous habit.

Now Lucio slips into your bedroom with some dumb excuse ("thought you wanted some water" "hey, I had this WILD dream" "I'm horny") just to lay with you as you fall asleep. Watching your serene face as you sleep helps him to soothe his sleepless nights and find some kind of peace."

If you weren't so worried about letting him down, you would have put the pieces together and understood why he let you sleep -why he always lets you sleep.

~◇~

Portia knows about it, and find it so damn cute! Being the little mischievous fairy she is, she always puts you into situations where you will have troubles staying awake. This includes

getting the two of you seat for the opera in Nadia's box -this means you're next to her- and exchange giggling gazes with Asra. The three of you are the perfect partner in crime, but little did you know that you are their favorite victim.

Going stargazing with you and Muriel -he tells the BEST constellation tales and she knows that you love them and would give the world to stay awake - but joke's on her this time, for Muriel adores when his voices coddle you to sleep

Inviting you gardening in warm afternoons after some rich lunch, where she has an hard times refraining from laughing at your attempts to resist the sleep.

Today though, you realize she's doing it on purpose. In your hand there's a bunch of drawings she did of your cutest sleeping poses -they're on napkins, reciepts, grocery lists and god forbid Portia is this book from Nadia's library?!

~~~~~~~♧♤♧~~~~~~

I'll put the spicier ones (Julian, Muriel, Asra) in a reblog [THIS ONE] I'll flag as adult content :) you can alway find them from the Masterlist

Disclaimer: please remember that hypersomnia is a legit disorder that should be addressed by any means you have at hand. Don't get fooled by the "manageable" face it has: it may be caused by many underlying issues, from moderate avoidant anxiety to much more serious things. There's nothing wrong with choosing to live with it or thinking it's cute (i have it and i do), but if you do experience it, love yourself and investigate its causes! Remember, as an human being you're entitled to health.

#the arcana #the arcana game #nadia satrinava #nadia the arcana #countess nadia #asra the magician #arcana fanfic #julian devorak #the arcana smut #muriel arcana #lucio x mc #lucio morgasson #portia devorak #arcana muriel #muriel smut

101 notes · View notes

viilpstick · 1 year ago

Text

╰┈➤ 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡: Who told to sing for someone as a way to confess how they feel for you? No, scratch that, better question… Who gave them permission to play guitar?

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔: Epel Felmier, Sebek Zigvolt, Kamlin Al-Asim, Ace Trappola x GN! Reader (separately)

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: Fluff, crack, kinda cringe, headcanons + small scenarios :) (if you squeeze your eyes, there is a tiny agnst in epel’s part)

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Bad english, Reader is not necessarily yuu!! A bit OOC, Barbie spoilers (? I think, it was just inspired by one scene of it), use of the word "Prince/Princess" in Kamlin's part.

this btch is the reason why I am doing this scenario 😭😭

Blame Ashton. Literally.

Alright, but seriously, he thought it was a good idea. Ashton did NOT had bad intentions on putting on this situations.

And, that man is old/j

He probably did this in his early teen years and it worked

Plus, Epel trusted him more than Vil’s advice when it comes to you (for some obvious reasons)

So, when he sees you uncomfortable face as he tries to make you think is his the most masculine man ever, he heart aches a bit, like?

“What? How… I thought they would like me in masculine way— Did I do something wrong? It can’t be, I hate to think Vil was right… They hate me, now?”

He’s overthinking! Apologize. 😡

You like Epel, but, man… Is he /srs or /j?

You’ll have to sit down and explain why you actually were uncomfortable; he’s forcing himself so much to be what he wants, that he forgets he could just be his normal self, not the ultra mega macho man, but not also Rarity from my little pony. Just… Him.

Because that’s what you like

It was the best idea Ashton had. Literally he’s so grateful he ran to him, instead of Vil. Who would make him look like a pretty princess awhile you would look like a Prince Charming. It was all set up, nothing could or should go wrong.

Taking a deep breath at the point he could feel the air whirling through his lungs, he took the guitar, a nervous smile was now forming as the confident façade was starting to fall down from his grip. It can’t happen, it just can’t. You are now here standing looking at him with a confused look waiting for his move, Epel needs to prove himself worthy.

When he starts, you cringed… Just so badly. You really like Epel, and think it’s sweet of him, but is he really just singing you “Push” by Matchbox Twenty? Thankfully, you were able to put up with it. At least the forty seconds of it, when you actually started to sweat cold. You started to check the time more than once, give a uncomfortable smile, looking around anywhere but his eyes, and it was when his fingers slip through the chords that he noticed; your uncomfortable expression.

And it may seem something he wouldn’t mind… If it was anyone else, but this is you we are talking about. He’s been crushing on you for so long. He stops playing putting down. Muttering a “Forget it,” than a “sorry”. It was when, you realized. Your mistake!

Sure, the moment was terrible. It was cringe and painful to watch. You take a deep breath and analyze, why you didn’t like that moment. Was it because of him? Definitely no. Was it because of the song? Maybe?

It took you a moment, when you realized. He wasn’t doing it for you nor him. But for his desperation for self proven of showing how strong and cool he is, Epel hates being mistaken by someone cute and pretty. He wants to be like those masculine man, those who have muscles and bodies are big.

A sigh leave your lips, as you take him by the cheek placing a sweet kiss, that trails to his mouth making him speechless. He completely looses composure as he watches you with the awe struck eyes, making you chuckle.

“I appreciate the gesture, but, next time… Put more a detail of yourself as a whole. Not just that part who wants to be something else.” A smile was placed on your face. As you reassure, behind the small letters, and choices of words, you like him for him. And honestly, that’s what matters. Maybe, the use of “just be yourself”, makes sense.”

You see that pink haired mf?

That’s the reason of why are you staring at Sebek on the couch trying to get the chord right.

For the fifty time.

You and Sebek were already dating for awhile, but usually you were the one to plan dates and take him out away from Malleus.

That’s when Lilia comes up, and says he should be more romantic with his loved one.

So, why not… Learn to play guitar, learn Matchbox Twenty lyrics of Push, take you out to hang out on Diasomnia and listen you play to him?

Good idea old man! ☝️🤓

Everytime someone passes through the Diasomnia lounge and your boyfriend is playing the lyrics (or… Trying to), you start to panic in embarrassment.

Not 100% of Sebek, you really think it’s sweet his gesture. He did put a lot of effort on memorizing a song for you and etc… But why, this song? Why??? 😭

“Sebek— I think it’s really sweet… But, it’s getting late and we don’t want you to get noise complaints—“ You try to make Sebek stop of singing and playing. But his stubbornness, was speaking WAY louder.

Sitting there quietly you waited for him get the right chord. As he gives a frustrated expression. Cursing under his breath every time he got it wrong, he even watched a video showing his to play the chord.

“Why it’s gotta to be so difficult?!” He loudly says closing his phone and putting away the guitar. Crossing his arms, refusing to look at your face. Like an angry child.

“Oh, you were doing great.” You encourage, but a small part was hoping for him to not believe at you, so he would stop playing the repetitive song that would clearly play in your brain for the next twenty four hours.

“I just don’t get it! Lilia says it’s better for me start to planning things for our time alone. And then, Grim says people love music so why aren’t you liking this?” He confesses the true reason of why he is been getting the same chord wrong, over and over again. He knew what he was doing (and probably for the first he was too shy to ask you in fear of your answer).

You simply chuckle. True, you may or may not exactly be liking the choice of song, since it didn’t matched you nor him. But, were you in any way uncomfortable with him? Never. You take his hand and warmth feeling rushes through his body looking to him on the eyes.

“Sebek, I think what Lilia meant is a date where we can hang out and you are away from Diasomnia. Grim, on the other hand, was probably thinking of slowly dancing.”

“Oh.”

As you explain you notice the realization hitting him. Good. Because, now you both look at the guitar and laugh together. It felt good that moment where only you two matter.

“But, thank you. I never had someone playing Push for me in my life.” You chuckle once again, leaning to give a peck on his lips. “And, if you want, we can plan the next date—“

“YOUNG MASTER!!” Sebek soon leaves you for Malleus who was walking by, to assist him any way.

You simply shrugs, but when you noticed his red cheeks… His reaction was purely a way to cover his shy self. You smile at the situation, taking the guitar to give you a look.

“You hold evil powers.”

No, because he did it in a Allan energy with Alladin intentions kinda of way, yk? 😰😰

It was actually sweet seeing him getting ready when…

“Kamlim, why are you playing Push?” “Isn’t that what people like?” “No?” “Oh…” There was a silence between you both as he takes a deep breath and: “I can show you the world—”

It wasn’t supposed to be in a Ken way, but when he asked for advice it was for Ace. Since, you both were close.

And instead of Ace ACTUALLY ask you for an idea, he comes up with the most random song for Kamlin to play for you

“Should we blame Kamlin?” “Or blame guitars players?” “Or should we blame Matchbox Twenty?”

No! Blame Ace! 😡

I think, Ace did not had bad intentions but he at the same time he had... I don't know

Either way, he just shrugs laugh and play another song.

Like, another day, another slay, period.

At the end was just him being innocent and not following his heart when he was going to choose a song to sing for you

Don't worry, he sings "A whole new world" for you

"A new fantastic point of view, no one to tell us no--" "--From where do you know this song?" "I don't know-- It just came to my mind." "Cool." "A whole new world!"

You both sat in his room, him on his bed and you on the floor on the blue and red carpet, you could only look at him in a endearing way, when he told you he wanted to play you a song, obviously you couldn't say no.

He sings so well, is the small touch of calmness and sweetness of his tone that could melt you in seconds. But, when he plays the first few chords your face fell into a confused one... Why the fuck. Was Kamlin. Playing Push??? It's a great song, really but, him singing it for you is just so, out of character of his "sunshine persona".

You give an awkward smile and nod trying to actually not laugh, man, his voice was beautiful. But, why Push? Who gave him that idea? His eyes were caught on you and though he takes time to understand your feelings usually, he knows something is wrong. Like, instantly he stops his tracks to calculate, were you not liking the song? Him singing? Did he got any chord incorrectly and you noticed?

"Prince/Princess? Are you okay? You didn't like it?" He looks at you with his doe eyes, but there was a worried smile after all the last thing he wants is see you not enjoying his actions, specially when is him for you.

You chuckle and smile, shaking your head. "Why are you playing Push by Matchbox twenty?" You raise your eyebrow completely confused with a signature upside down smile.

"Ace told me you would like it." He says now getting confused, you cursed under your breath. "You don't?"

"Well, I do like the song and you... But, I never thought you would play something like that, you know?" Holding your breath, you chuckle with the consuming confuse aura taking over you both.

He looks at you before smiling and laughing, as he takes to think of the situation, it was indeed not like him.

He pats the bed for you to get off the carpet, you smile sitting "Well, makes sense. So, would permit for me to sing a more... Characteristic song for you?" You raised your eyebrow yet, didn't denied, he starts play a familiar yet unfamiliar tone. Like, you have heard it before, but at the same time it was something completely new. Softly smiling upside down to him, your hand went to your legs as you heard him play.

"I can show you the world, shining, shimmering, splendid!"

Did for the meme, I think...

Honestly, Deuce and Grim were watching you both from afar with popcorn

(I hope you are ready to have lots of memes of you face trying to NOT laugh)

Kinda cringe to see him thinking he's nailing it 😭

Girlie thought he slays 💅

He tried???

We can’t defend him, it was his idea and he thought it was a good one 😞😞

Honestly, you felt like doing those “don’t laugh challenge” but when you do…

At first he pouts as he stops playing, but man is so head over heels he can’t stay mad at you, honestly

He laughs a long with you, maybe he noticed how cringe it was, maybe not, but he never felt that good

You and Ace aren't exactly together, this is your second date, there was no kiss in the first date, and you hoped for this one you would be able to press your lips against his. And from all of things, he could've planned... All the things he could planned. Him singing to you Push by Matchbox twenty? Was out of your predictions to these year on your list.

From afar you saw Deuce and Grim laughing at the situation as you sat with a desperate look on trying to contain any laughter to come out of your lips.

It pains you, it was such a cute act. But, then it's Ace and he's trying to impress. Aside that, he does play really good. Now, does he sing well? Sevens, no.

Your lips trembles, holding you breath to calm yourself down. Your smile was there but each time he looks away it turns into an upside down smile. You were sweating cold, man.

Plus, the song seemed to never end! Like, you are struggling! And Deuce and Grim laughing behind you both, trust me. It. Didn't helped your situation.

"Well, I won't do anything at ahLL-" He sighs in dissapoint when he get that note wrong... "Shit. Ha... Sorry."

He says. But, how were you... When he got a note out of tune, it was the last drop. The small slip in a normal situation would be unnoticeable, but this was a try not to laugh at Ace, level impossible. When that one note was played wrong. You couldn't contain any longer. As you almost fell behind laughing holding your tummy.

Ace looks at you with a pout, why were you laughing? He made a mistake it was not funny! Deuce and Grim on the back were now laughing even harder, if that was somehow possible? Deuce even chocked on air.

For a moment, poking fun at others was no longer entertainment. But, you couldn't stop, it was really impossible at the moment. He looks at you laughing with a small tear at the corner of your eye, the surroundings seemed to freeze. You really look beautiful, honestly, it didn't matter if your laugh was scandalous or in mute, if you putted your hand before your mouth or opened your mouth fully. He was just, like, completely at your mercy, by your mere existence.

"Sorry, Ace. It was Deuce and Grim's fault, I swear--" Your apologise fell into his deaf ears as you slowly calmed down. But, you wouldn't be able to process it correctly anything else, after he puts his hand under your chin pulling you closer to his lips, his breath tickled your upper lip as he pulls you into an endearing kiss. It took seconds for him pull away, leaving you with a blank expression awhile inside of you there were not even butterflies, just exploding fireworks in your stomach.

His laugh was what brought you back to where you were, to reality, closer to him.

"Heh... It really wasn't what we expected or first kiss to be. Don't worry in another life, I won't sing Push for you."

(A/N: When I was watching Barbie, Epel was all I could think about in that scene 😭)

80 notes · View notes

vulturereyy · 5 months ago

Text

Outer wilds nation I hit a certain point last night and the Nomai brainrot has kicked in. Please no spoilers still even if I'll get my lore wrong here, but everyone say hello to Fig :)

Copy pasting my discord ramblings under the cut. Outer Wilds spoilers are a given.

because i cant not project on characters: what if Fig is dyscalculic/dyslexic imagine being in such a writing and precise numbers based society but everything blends together for you

I think she may have been among the first generation born on ember twin. Like her poor parents were already pretty much ready to have her when they had to hop in the escape pods and such, so she was born very shortly after the crash by a few months. And i say that this is important because i think the nomai would have been a very accessible race imo, Solanum didn't even think twice about offering alternate communication methods. But the fact that Fig was born while they were rebuilding their society meant that she likely didn't have the same resources at the time/there were a lot of other stressors to focus on Perhaps Fig is even partially the reason why alternate communication methods sort of come around, at least in the society on ember twin, though that's headcanon territory

Anyway, she grew up not really doing… the best. No one could understand why she wasn't grasping very basic reading and numbers milestones, she was getting angry and feeling stupid because she wasn't getting them, it was a whole thing. She could speak into logs and record them, but when it came to reading them back, she struggled even with her own words. (for a while she was able to practice and memorize what she was going to say, but they learned that's what she was doing when they secretly swapped out the log and she confidently recited her own words instead)

And she kind of slipped through the cracks with the whole 'literally needing to rebuild our society' thing. By the time the high energy lab was starting up, she was an embittered teen, and kind of relegated to the black sheep of the clan. Not quite outcast, but it was very clear to her how different she was to everyone else. She fetched water, she tended crops, she swept out sand, but no one ever invited her to the forums or the lectures or the scientific meetups that are so pivitol to their culture.

Maybe Hickory, one of the older scientists at the new lab, was a friend to Fig's parents. And they kind of begged her to take Fig in, even if it just meant having her sweep the floors free of sand, because it would give her something to do that wasn't putting cactus spikes on people's seats.

And so Hickory did. And Fig was Very Mad about her new job. She hated science. She hated numbers. Why is she in a lab. Is this some kind of a joke? Putting the one Nomai that can't do research on shit in the lab as a cleaner. fuck off about that

But then Fig got to see Hickory testing out the new warp cores. And feel the miniature black hole's gravity tug at her and make her fur stand on end even as she was across the room. She watched Hickory take her notes. She watched her toss something into it, take more notes. The entire lab is thrumming with the force of the power needed for this experiment. Hickory looks over her shoulder. She's noticed the sound of sweeping has stopped. Fig tries to scowl and go back to doing her job as if she never stopped, but then Hickory says, "We only have a few more minutes before I have to return the power to the city. Would you like to see before I do?"

And Fig can't help herself. She tries to play it off but yes she really wants to see. She clip clops herself over to Hickory cautiously and peers into the testing chamber. The Black Hole is like a void, staring back into her. She doesn't know what to feel about it. It's the gravity that makes her shiver, she thinks. Hickory is trying very hard not to smile as she calmly explains what she's testing. The lab is supposed to be getting a white hole core soon, she explains. The black hole connects to the white, an input and an output. She's trying to see if she can still get readings off of the sensors she's sending into the miniature black hole while it does't have an endpoint yet.

Fig asks if Hickory thinks that when they open up the white hole from the core, everything Hickory threw in is gonna come spewing out at once, like a backed up pipe. Hickory's brows go up. She looks back to the black hole, considering, and writes something down. She tells Fig she thinks that's an excellent question.

Fig throws her broom into the black hole. Hickory doesn't stop her. More importantly, she doesn't scold her.

Because she just confirmed this ragamuffin little nomai still has her spark of curiosity :) She lets Fig be the one to reroute the power back to the city. It's just a simple crystal ball switch, but it feels very powerful to do.

Hickory becomes the one to give Fig the patience and culturally unorthodox teaching that she needs. It's a combination of Hickory's personality, but also the fact that the clan is settled now -- they are now out of survival mode and imminent death, and able to… relax, mentally, a lot more. And Hickory, through a few arguments that eventually turn more into very vulnerable conversations, finally learns that Fig struggles with their script and the numbers and letters all jumble together.

She carves stones together, and pictures, and symbols at first, so they make their own 'script' together that is pictography in nature. Fig starts taking her notes in it.

Eventually this would evolve into her own form of script, but there were a lot of baby steps involved before that point. And Fig, instead of being just the lab cleaner, very readily becomes Hickory's star apprentice on black hole theory and warp technology. She hopes one day she can even be a shuttle pilot, or operate the white hole station herself i think it would be neat if in game on ember twin you'd find those pictograph scripts and the translator can't pick them up. but then in the high energy lab in a side room that's more like a study you could find a notice from hickory on fig's picto-script, and the key for deciphering it (and also a notice, purposefully written close together so fig won't parse it, saying that if anyone has a problem with fig's script they can take it up with hickory personally) (a little thread underneath this from someone else suggests that their questions on its scientific integrity was met with the most scathing dressing down theyve ever had in their life)

So from then on you are able to translate her scripts and find her little notes everywhere :) she may even 'help' lead you to shortcuts, because she explored alot of ember twin in her youth when she wasn't doing anything else, so she went back and marked all her hidey holes and shortcuts Design wise, she has a black and white hole tattood on the back of her hands. One, because she thinks they are fucking cool, and two because it helps her distinguish her right from her left

#oc: Fig #oc: Hickory #outer wilds #outer wilds oc #outer wilds nomai #nomai oc #nomai

13 notes · View notes

just-wrting · 1 year ago

Note

hiii, i just read ‘family time’ (absolutely loved it btw!!) and i was wondering if you’d want to write a follow up where aaron confronts the neighbour for example? :)

Aaah!!!!!!! Yes! It’s short but I hope it’s okay! I’m more of a fan of reader inserts being in second person so it ended up like this. If anyone wants it to be masc pronouns just let me know and I’ll alter it.

A bit of a TW: the neighbor is creepy towards a minor! Only mentioned not written as a full scene!

Despite it being Sunday morning, you make your way to the mailbox. With the scorching heat of yesterday, you chose to not get the mail. Since the kids are still asleep, it’s the perfect time. You slip on a pair of sandals and gently push open the front door.

As you’re basking in the morning air, you hear the neighbors arguing about who’s going to answer the door. You don’t know who makes a house call this early, but your curiosity gets the better of you, and you creep over to the fence to listen in. Another sharp knock at their door and it creaks open.

“What do you want?” the husband snaps at the mystery person. “Don’t you know it’s rude to knock on someone’s door at the crack of dawn? You better be having an emergency.”

Peering through the tiny crack in the fence, you catch a glimpse of one of Aaron’s casual shirts. At this point, you can’t help but stay.

“Don’t you know that it’s rude to ogle at women?” you husband counters. His voice is icy and it sends shivers down your spine. “Or do you not have basic decency?”

You can hear the older man scoff. “Maybe your wife should have some decency. If a woman doesn’t want to be looked at, she shouldn’t wear that sort of thing.”

You already know the sort of look Aaron is making now. His eyebrows will be furrowed and his mouth set in a thin line due to his jaw being clenched. The neighbor is lucky that Aaron does his best to stay away from violence, even when provoked.

“What does it matter what my wife wears in her backyard? If you can’t keep your eyes to yourself I should tell your wife.” Despite the even tone, anger seeps into his voice.

“My wife isn’t going to do shit about what I do!”

The door creaks as it tries to slam shut, but you see Aaron shift. He’s stuck his foot in the doorway.

“Mr. Williams, as you know, I’m a government agent. I know that it’s not just my wife you’ve been looking at, but Tim’s wife too. I may not get violent with you, but I can’t say for certain what Tim will do.”

You hear Williams snicker. “That’s why I’m not scared of you. That dumbass Tim will never know I look at his woman.”

“I also happen to know you watch his daughter too. You do know that she’s only a freshman in high school, right? Not college.”

You imagine the color draining from his face. It’s satisfying.

“You’re just guessing!” he shrieks. “If you tell anyone this stupid lie, I’ll sue you for defamation!”

Aaron has the upper hand, and you smirk. This bastard will finally reap what he’s sown.

“Actually, I have video and audio evidence of you harassing my wife and the Harris women. It would be a shame if I sent it to Tim.”

“Alright, alright! What is you want? An apology?” You see his hands get thrown in the air. “Fine. I’m sorry Aaron for looking at your wife when she’s off limits.”

You hear a thud and see Aaron’s hand gripping the doorway. When he speaks, his tone is something you’ve never heard before. It sends ice through your veins.

“What I want doesn’t matter in this scenario. How dare you assume that by giving me an apology I will make this go away.”

“Well then,” he sputters, “what do I need to do to make this go away?”

“There is no longer anything you can do. I will be emailing the footage to Tim and anyone else in the community I see fit.”

With that, you see Aaron start to head down the stairs. You rush away from the fence and do your best to pretend like you hadn’t been listening in on him. Unfortunately, he catches you at the mailbox.

“You didn’t get the mail yesterday, darling?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“No, it was just too hot. What brings you outside at this hour?”

He makes a very unpleasant face and sighs. “Some unsavory business, dear. Nothing for you to worry about.”

You play innocent and bat your eyelashes at him. “You’re okay though? You’re not hurt in anyway?”

His hand guides you into the house, and you resist the urge to tell him that you’re very happy about what he did. You also do your best to smother the thought of how hot you find him when he gets all protective.

“I’ll make breakfast while you wake the kids.”

You nod and place the mail on the entryway table. “That sounds like a plan. Gives you some time to plan.”

With a soft smile, he leans close to again. You anticipate another kiss, but instead feel his breath on your ear.

“As much as I love you, you’ve gotten terrible at hiding things from me. You could’ve gotten closer.”

Aaron gives your hip a squeeze, before giving you a proper kiss. You gently shove him away, shooing him off. Thankfully, he just chuckles before heading to the kitchen.

“So you also know I think you’re hot when you get protective?” you call after him. “Am I that easy to read?”

His laugh gets louder. “I don’t need to be reading your body language to know that. You’re prone to finding me attractive when I do a lot of things.”

You head upstairs, pouting. “He’s lucky I love him. And that he’s the best man ever.”

—-

The next day, there’s a verbal fight next door. At least, that what the cat lady across the street tells you. Aaron had swept you and the kids away to BAU.

Apparently, the Harris family had called the cops and gotten Mr. Williams arrested on peeping Tom laws against his wife and daughter. His wife never said anything, and let him be taken out. While Tim never said who tipped him off, you caught him and Aaron talking.

Shortly after, the Williams’ house was empty.

#reader insert #criminal minds #aaron hotch #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner #criminal minds aaron hotch

46 notes · View notes