#anyways the game is satisfactory
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when your main characters start dating after years of writing so they finally get to be like this
#rare WIP preview from me#this is in like. 10 episodes. lmfao#its been really hard working this far ahead#my editor isnt giving me any feedback and my friends are very busy so it's felt quite lonely#which is fine! for my friends I mean. but its my editors job to give me feedback...#but the webtoon editors are extremely extremely extremely overworked and my series is set to end so I understand its low priority#its not her fault its webtoons fault. however. its still demotivating...#oh well l m a o#I should be much further ahead ngl LMFAO I want like 12 done but I come back in 2 weeks.#we'll see#when I get really stressed out I go full gamer mode#and usually I'll sink like 60 hours (like 5 days) into a game and then I'm good and move on#but this recent game that grabbed me is. its too much actually#bit uncontrollable ngl I think its an ADHD thing I mostly have just quit playing videogames at all#cause its like yeah being stressed cause theres too much work to do is not going to be helped by losing a week and a half to a game...#and yet.#anyways the game is satisfactory#my friend bought it for me and we've been playing together#and our shared file has. 100 hours on it. and we still havent beaten the game#we're close to beating it and it's not like we're rushing or anything#cause its fun to fuck around and zap eachother or whatever#but it's got me doing math. the exact kind of math I love to do. optimization#and its reminding me yeah in another life id have been an engineer#I'm glad I'm an artist but its always weird like yeah this is easily a path I could have gone down#'artists hate math' speak for yourself doing math calms me down! I love math!#I love math and I love business. I'm almost the perfect artist but I hate advertising so. we can't have it all#anyways theyre so fucking cute its sickening. I love them so much. I could cry#WIP#lineart#time and time again
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yall probably already guessed it but today is my decompression day where i dont play isat because its stressful and i dont wanna be stressed for a day
the only thing ive been doing is reading fluffy fanfics and playing minecraft and building a house via tutorial with calming music and its very therapeutic
#greching origins#isat reaction#youre gonna be surprised#(probably not really)#but i dont actually enjoy fighting/killing shit in games#like id do it if pressed but also Avoidance Is The Way#despite me waffling around that more characters should be unhinged yeah#so actually 'a little to the left' and 'unpacking' and powerwash simulator are my best friends.#satisfactory also#i loev. machine :>#wish i could present them to siffrin rn. i think he needs that actually now yeah but also in general#and mirabelle too id bet shed LOVE alttl for being able to pretty up things#...anyway today im not playing isat and maybe tomorrow too#done deal. sorry
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Hi Sophie! Giving you a few options for the ask game - no pressure and take as long as you need! <33 5. "I don't know if I can forgive."
6. "How could you?"
18. "I'm sorry. I don't remember."
22. "You knew?"
34. "Are you going to kill me?" I'll leave the characters up to you! Feel free to use this for Wolf359 if you want too <3
Hi, Milk!! Thank you for the options, I hope you like the characters I chose!
“I– I don’t know.” S.Q. said. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, Mr. Benedict.”
Nicholas’ shoulders drooped, but he kept a kind expression on his face. “That is entirely understandable, my dear S.Q., but I cannot say that I am not… saddened.”
“‘Saddened’?” S.Q. repeated. “Why would you be moroseful? I mean, why would you be despairent? I mean–”
“No, no.” Said Mr. Benedict, chuckling quietly. “I know what you mean. Are you perhaps searching for the word ‘mournful’, ‘despairing’, or ‘despondent’? I know there are a great many words used to describe sadness in our language, as there are a great many ways to feel it. What I would say most accurately describes my current emotional state is ‘remorseful’, which means ‘a sense of regret, disapproval, or guilt stemming from one’s past wrongdoings’.”
S.Q. sat still for a moment, processing everything that had been said. “So…” He began slowly, “You mean to say that you feel bad about leaving me behind? In the cave?”
“My boy, there has not been a day since that occurrence that I have not thought about that afternoon and wept.” Mr. Benedict said gravely.
“Oh.” S.Q.’s voice was small, unsure of himself. “I– I’d always thought– Mr. Curtain–” He stopped, swiping at his eyes as tears began welling up. “They said that you did it on purpose, that you wanted me to get in trouble. That– That I deserved it–”
“S.Q….” Mr. Benedict reached out a hand, but it fell limply as he slumped back against the chair.
“Oh dear.” S.Q. mumbled, trying to figure out if pure sadness could kill a person. Luckily, Mr. Benedict was up again a few seconds later.
“My apologies, S.Q., I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Now, where were we?”
S.Q.’s face crumpled, and that was all Mr. Benedict needed.
“Ah, yes. Well, S.Q., I do indeed regret leaving you there, and if it were at all possible I would have taken you with the children and we all would have escaped together. But I don’t think you were ready for that at the time, do you?”
“No, I wasn’t.” S.Q. said glumly. “I just… I wish that it had never happened.”
“So do I, dear. So do I.” Mr. Benedict wavered, but he took a deep breath and steeled himself. S.Q. needed him in this moment.
“S.Q., I want you to know that you do not have to forgive me. Not today, not ever. It is entirely up to you.”
“Really?” S.Q. looked surprised. “You don’t want me to forgive you?”
Mr. Benedict smiled a small, bittersweet smile. “Of course I want you to, but that does not take the decision away from you, dear one. It still remains your choice.”
#asks#ask games#It was a tough decision#But this one came to me immediately and I was like#Who doesn't want to think about The Cave Scene again?#Akjddfjjdf#Anyways I hope this is satisfactory
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i finished the 2.2 update in one sitting and it was so much longer than i was expecting it to be and i had to go to bed to properly absorb the insanity of it all and here is a concrete summary of my thoughts:
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!! AAA AAA A A A A A A A A A A A AA AAAA A AA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA A AA AA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!@!@!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !A AA
A
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
aaaaAaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!£
aaaaaaaaaaaaaa
#MISHA??#SUNDAY WASN'T FOLLOWING THE HARMONY AT ALL?#ROBIN?!?!?!?!#THE MUSIC IN THE REAL ACTUAL FINAL BOSS FIGHT?#ACHERON.#boothill is funny as shit actually i think dan heng wanted to strangle him the whole time#ARGENTI WAS THE ONE THAT GOT AVENTURINE OUT SAFELY?????????#the fucking LOOP they throw you for towards the end#SUNDAY AND ROBIN AUAGAGHUAHGHU#FIREFLY......... OH MY GOD *FIREFLY*#she is so beautiful. and so special..and i love her even more than i did before#JESUS CHRIST THAT WAS GOOD#like#penacony was starting to feel TOO messy and i was concerned they weren't going to be able to resolve it all#in a satisfactory manner anyway#BUT THEY PULLED IT OFF REALLY WELL and all the questions and confusion i had? gone. answered.#a story that convoluted requires a loooot of thought and effort... and i really admire that#it was so good. fuckkkkkkk it was so good#people have been making fun of the creators saying penacony would be an uplifting warm story#like 'This? uplifting????? how?!?!??!' but yeah jt really was#god. godddjdjdjabfkfnskgjskf#now i just want to continue my replay and experience it all again... without month long breaks in between#I LOVE TJIS GAME FUCK MY LIFEEEEEEEEE
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me, stressing and overclocking my mark 1 miners and living with abysmal production rates: "why is this so HARD there's NO where near enough iron for this ??"?
the mark 2 minerr, waiting patiently in the upgrade tree for me to pay any semblance of attention:
#lostwood.txt#satisfactory#except i'm playing so it really ain't all that satisfying-#anyone who's played this game properly would be Weeping and sobbing and hissing and biting rn i'm so sorry gamers#i am having fun and that is the main thing !!!!!! even if i am a clown !!!!!#anyway :) time to go redo shenanigans
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Been working on making my factories look nicer in Satisfactory! Not quite done with the clean-up and exterior of this, but here's the before and after of about 6 hours of neatening up my fuel power plant.
#i did get a couple hours into a new save trying to make things nicer from the start#but i got tired pretty quickly of not having all the resources i wanted and trying to navigate without the jetpack lol#so i'm back to my first save. figured at this point (130 hrs in lol) i have enough resources built up to fully rebuild/restructure stuff#i was worried about messing with the power grid but it's fairly straightforward logistically so i tackled it first#not having power for a while isn't such an issue at this point but you do need a certain amount of power to turn on new generators#so everything shut down for a bit and i had to bring it back up piece by piece#but i figured it out. mostly. i found some hidden issues in my power grid that i'll have to solve but for now everything's back up#after that trains are probably next. something to replace those long-ass belts running off the left side of the screen#anyway. i've been seeing some cool builds on reddit which is what got me back into the game after a few months#i do love a good resource management game but this is the first one in a while that's really captured me#it is kind of a 'making ice cubes' game but i'm having fun not focusing on optimization#j rambles#satisfactory
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Jimmy’s mom here…
(Un)fortunately, pickle dad has returned from Thailand today and I believe I will be getting evicted from his tumblr account soon. I’ve had a fun time here with all of you and reading your messages have given me a great sense of joy regardless of whether they were fun and silly or accusatory and rude. I genuinely love all of you very much and I can’t thank you enough for loving our boy. I sincerely hope that my posting here was adequate and satisfactory🥹
I will always be around, but I don’t think I will be an active participant in the curation and maintenance of this blog. While the great majority of you are silly and fun to interact with, I really hate the game of telephone that gets played on this site. If you have a pickle parent preference, you can find me (Jimmy’s mom) on his instagram account of the same username💖
Much love,
Jimmy’s Mom
PS, I have a super secret tumblr account that I monitor this blog with hehehe I see everything you all say anyway 😈
PPS, this blog is NOT shutting down, just returning to the owner, pickle dad. Felt the need to reiterate🫠
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Hello!! I see your requests for Homicipher are open and I got giddy :D (starving for more content) May I request fluff drabble for Mr Silviar? Maybe his s/o teaching him how to say "I love you" in human language? Thank you!
⊱ Those Three Words ⊰ || Mr. Silvair X Reader
╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮ Character(s): Mr. Silvair (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (specifically Route End: Mr. Silver Hair 1), Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and Horror-Elements), Cultural Barriers (Mr. Silvair Doesn’t Fully Comprehend Certain Emotions). Anything spoken in the other world’s language will be bolded. Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Slight Angst, Pre-Established Romantic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~3,280 Request: “Hello!! I see your requests for Homicipher are open and I got giddy :D (starving for more content) May I request fluff drabble for Mr Silviar? Maybe his s/o teaching him how to say "I love you" in human language? Thank you!” Author’s Note: Mr. Silvair!!! He’s genuinely so pretty, y’all – it’s not fair. 😔 I find his overall character to be quite fascinating, and a part of me is really hoping the game gets a DLC or something to further expand on each of the character’s lore (and more moments with the MC, of course). Like game, what do you mean that some of the monsters may have been humans while others probably never were?? I desperately need more food… I headcanon that Mr. Silvair was either 1. never human, or 2. has been in the other world for a very long time, resulting in the loss of his memory as a human which could be why he’s so interested in researching them/maintaining the MC’s humanity. 🤔 But that’s just a theory – a game theory! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated! ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯
Even after everything that had happened between you and this world’s resident human-enjoyer, you surprisingly still felt at ease with Mr. Silvair. That comfortability, though, made you think hard about your sanity. After all, it probably wasn’t normal to be comfortable around someone who enjoyed taking you apart and watching your body put itself back together over and over again. Yet, you did, and you didn’t mind your current arrangement as much as you probably would have in the past.
Mr. Silvair’s home was destroyed in a fiery explosion (courtesy of himself), so you had offered to help him find a new one. You managed to locate a large room, one that he deemed satisfactory enough to call his base, and you had been staying with him indefinitely since then. As long as you had a comfy bed to lay in and someone else to keep you company, you were happy.
Your other friends(?) frequently stopped by as well to say hello, the most common ones being Mr. Crawling and Mr. Chopped. While you were occasionally hit with a feeling of loneliness, it was hard to feel that way with so many friendly faces around. Well… maybe their faces weren’t that friendly, but they were kind and gentle with you, and that’s what truly mattered.
You hear the sound of Mr. Silvair moving around in the room adjacent to the one you typically stayed in, and you wonder to yourself what his plans for today are. The tall, long-haired man spent most of his time engaged in research. You didn’t see him as frequently as one would expect despite the fact you two were practically roommates. All you could do was hope he wasn’t messing around with and subsequently angering any more terrifying, violent ghosts. You enjoyed your current home, and going out to look for another one wasn’t very high on your list of things to do.
The Rubik’s Cube in your hand was still as scattered as ever, and it seemed like, no matter how long you spent trying to solve it, you were only able to successfully complete one side. Mr. Masque was kind enough to give it to you (he apparently had a whole stash of the things somewhere), and his gift was something you were immensely grateful for. Attempting to figure out the puzzle helped you pass the time wherever you were alone (and it most likely helped you keep your head on straight).
You’re currently lying flat on your back atop the plush bed in the relatively empty living space, looking up at the gray concrete ceiling with a blank stare. Once you decide you’ve loafed around for long enough, you stand up slowly from the bed, placing the cube gently on the covers of the cot. You stretch your arms above your head, a strangled noise coming from your throat at the movement of your stiff muscles, and you begin to make your way to the other room where your…
What even was Mr. Silvair to you? While yes, you were fond of him – hell, you’d go as far as to say you loved him – you knew he didn’t feel the same. You remember the moment he told you “I not understand like”, and that he didn’t want to save you from your condition, no… he found you entertaining to keep around, and that’s why he did what he did.
It was complicated, you thought, trying to have a relationship with a being who didn’t grasp what the concept of love was. Deep down, though, you knew you wouldn’t change it for the world. He enjoyed your presence, and that was all you could ask for.
You walk over to the metal door and knock, waiting for a response. After a moment, you hear Mr. Silvair’s voice echo, “Enter.”
The door opens with a slight creak as you twist the knob, peeking your head inside the somewhat grimy space. The room, still fairly new, didn’t have as much blood or gore as his old one did. There were fresh stains on the floor and wall, you noted, and you couldn’t help but wonder who or what they were from exactly. It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, though, so you didn’t bother asking.
You grin up at the taller man and give him a small wave, saying softly, “Hello. I not bother?”
He returns your smile, placing the scalpel in his hand on the stainless steel tray that held a variety of medical tools. It looked like he was in the process of cleaning the many, typically blood-stained, pieces of equipment. Mr. Silvair turns to face you and replies gently, “Hello. You not bother. Enter.”
Tilting his head to one side, his long, silver locks move when he does, cascading down his head and slipping off his shoulder at the movement. His smile drops slightly before he asks, “Feeling unwell? Injured? Need cure?”
“No, no cure.” You quickly say, not quite in the mood to be dissected or taken apart right now (honestly, though, you never really were, even if you did understand why it needed to be done). You pause by the door before finally shutting it behind you, the both of you now alone in the private and secluded space.
Ugh – why was it so hard to say what was on your mind??
After taking a moment to build up your confidence, you tell Mr. Silvair while fidgeting with the rubber of the clear raincoat you wore, “I want see you. Communicate.”
He hums and smiles at your admission, walking over to you before placing a calloused hand on your face. Your eyes close on instinct, and your breathing shutters when he rubs his thumb across your cheek. A part of you wanted to be annoyed with him since he had to be aware of the effect he had on you, yet you didn’t want to run the risk of him removing his cool palm from your skin, so you kept your mouth shut.
It had taken quite some time for Mr. Silvair to get to this point of physical affection with you (something he began doing more often after he saw how much you enjoyed getting head-pats from Mr. Crawling), so you didn’t want to ruin any progress you two had made in your complicated and unconventional relationship.
“Okay,” Mr. Silvar starts, removing his hand from your face as he gestures to one of the two chairs in the room. He smiles down at you before saying, “Sit. We communicate.”
You do as you’re told without speaking another word, your hands folded in your lap after you sit down, watching Mr. Silvair take a seat on the chair across from you. You talk with him for quite some time, doing your best to update him on your current progress with the puzzle since that was pretty much the only thing you had going on in your life. While it wasn’t satisfying to speak in the other world’s language because it tended to miss most of the nuances of speech, it was the only way the two of you could communicate.
Mr. Silvair seemed to pick up on your frustration, seeing you were growing annoyed at the lack of words in your arsenal – the term you were looking for wasn't coming to mind. In response, he tilts his head to the side and asks you, “You upset. Why?”
“Not right words.” You reply, brows furrowed when you look up at him, your gaze landing on the bloody bandages wrapped around his eyes. You turn your head to look down at the floor, the somewhat fresh pool of blood perfectly matching the color of the Rubik’s Cube. You point to the puddle and turn to ask Mr. Silvair, “What’s this called in your language? Can you tell me how to say this color?”
“Blood.” Mr. Silvair responds, not understanding what you wanted him to explain.
“No, no.” You quickly reply, shaking your head. You continue to glance between him and the blood, enunciating your words even though he didn’t understand your language the same way you were able to understand his. You didn’t back down or give up, though, saying again, “The color – I want to know what color blood is.”
He pauses, one hand under his chin as he seemingly takes a moment to figure out what you are asking him. After a few beats, Mr. Silvair replies with a word you haven’t heard anyone speak before, “???”
You visibly brighten at the new word, and the expression on your face causes Mr. Silvair to let out a light chuckle before he crosses one of his legs over the other. You take a breath before telling him, “Okay. Thank you.”
After another pause, you continue to speak, “So… One part object done, red part. Other parts hard – not finish.”
Mr. Silvair had been leaning forward in his chair, his elbow digging into his knee while his hand rested under his chin, holding his head up as he stared at you with an unwavering gaze. He always listened to you with rapt interest, and you would be lying if you said the constant attention didn’t make your heart stutter in your chest. However, he suddenly speaks, pointing to the pool of blood you had been gesturing toward moments before, “What you call that?”
“Huh?” You ask, pausing your story to look at him. Mr. Silvair doesn’t say anything else, though, giving you a moment to comprehend what he has asked you. You perk up when your brain finally registers what Mr. Silvair had said, replying to him happily, “Oh, that’s the color red. So, blood is typically red – blood red.”
“R-ehd?” He echos, and the sound of his voice speaking a word that you were able to understand without having to flip through your mental dictionary had your breath hitching. It sounded so strange but so nice coming from his lips.
“Yeah, red! Blood is red!” You say, sounding excited and oh-so happy. Mr. Silvair would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t find the look on your face and the tone of your voice endearing. Then, your expression shifts slightly as you lean forward in your chair, saying enthusiastically, “Oh my god – I just got an idea! Me teach you me language!”
“...You language?” Mr. Silvair asks after a moment, shifting in his seat slightly.
“Yes! Me teach you!” You reply, gesturing to both him and you with your hands. Your mind remembers the way Mr. Silvair and Mr. Chopped helped you shortly after you first arrived, teaching you directions to walk, facial expressions, and more. They had helped you expand your knowledge of this world’s language, and they were probably responsible for your survival in so many of those early interactions. So, you smile at him as you say, “We same.”
He returns a smile, nodding his head and replying with a simple, “Okay.”
“Alright, so, let me think here…” You hum to yourself, leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes while you consider what you should start with. Body parts seemed to be the first thing that popped into your head, so that’s eventually what you decided to start with. Sitting up in the chair, you point toward your hand with the other, tapping a finger to your palm as you speak, “Okay, so, this is my hand – hand. Can you say hand?”
It was kind of cute, strangely enough, seeing Mr. Slivair take the time to repeat the word you spoke over and over in his mind, trying to match the movement of your mouth with his own. Your languages were quite different in sounds, syllables, and the like, so he was practicing what to say before actually speaking. After a few moments of contemplation, he replies, “...H-ah-nd.”
“Hey, that was pretty good! Not bad for your first try, Mr. Silvair, even if the pronunciation is a bit off.” You say with a wide smile, clapping your hands together as you applaud him on his efforts. He chuckles again, finding your way of teaching to be… sweet.
Then, you speak again, once again grabbing his attention. You tap the pad of your finger under the skin of your eye, asking him, “Do you remember what this is called? I think I’ve told you before.”
Mr. Silvair is quicker in his response this time, having heard you ask him about his own eyes before as he smoothly says, “Eye.”
“Yes! Good job!” You praise once more, giving him a thumbs up in response. Then, he stands up from his seat, walking over to you while his once-white lab coat flows behind him. You crane your head back to look up at him from where you were still sitting, a simple and stupid, “...Huh?” leaving your mouth.
Mr. Silvair reaches a hand to your face, cupping your chin gently in his hand. You feel his thumb resting on your bottom lip, and he begins to move his finger back and forth along the slightly chapped flesh, tugging at it slightly. He tilts his head to the side, asking you seriously, “What this called?”
“Oh, uh…” You know your face is probably flushed beyond belief at this point if the heat cascading through your head is anything to go by, and your mind and heart are completely caught off-guard by his sudden touch and question. You avert your gaze to the side, swallowing harshly before you finally reply, “They’re my lips – they’re, umm… similar to mouth. Lips, mouth, same.”
“...Lips?” Mr. Silvair asks again for clarification, his voice having an almost husky tone to it that has a shiver travel down your spine.
You nod in response, muttering a barely audible, “Yes…”
Mr. Silvair hums at your response, a small smile gracing his lips. He leans down, face so close to yours, before he inquires with an almost teasing tone to his voice, “You want touch?”
“Y-Yes.” You answer at an almost embarrassingly fast speed.
The man who you had grown so fond of chuckles at your enthusiasm before leaning forward, pressing his lips softly to yours while he holds your face between his palms. Kisses weren’t a common thing between the two of you, and they were really only something Mr. Silvair initiated when he felt like it. You could feel the intensity at which your heart was beasting due to his sudden affections, and there was a part of you that was worried it would burst out of your chest right then and there.
Your eyes flutter shut and you tilt your head to the side, your hands coming up to rest atop his – his hands that were holding your cheeks so, so gently. It was almost sickening the way he was holding you like you could break at any moment.
Then, almost as quickly as it began, the kiss ended before you even realized it did. Mr. Silvair’s forehead was now pressed against yours, and he doesn’t make any move to remove his hands from your face. Your lips were no longer touching, and yet he still lingered.
Mr. Silvair didn’t play fair, you thought, yet you couldn’t help but wonder why he wanted to kiss you so suddenly, so randomly. You close your eyes and your brows furrow at the tightening in your throat, an aching sensation slowly spreading throughout your chest like a disease before you whisper, “...I love you.”
There’s a silence, a stretch of nothingness before Mr. Silvair suddenly asks you, his voice just as soft as yours had been, “Repeat?”
“...No,” Your response is nearly immediate, and you shake your head before repeating once more, “Nothing.”
“...I love you.” The sound of those three words leaving his lips nearly causes your mind to implode. It sounded so sweet, yet it also felt worse than any suffering you had experienced before. The searing and excruciating pain, the feeling of a blade digging itself into the flesh of your torso couldn’t compare to the deep-seated torment you felt right now.
Mr. Silvair hums, tilting his head to the side as his thumbs continue to caress your cheeks, “What mean?”
You knew there was no point, no reason to try and explain your feelings again, but you do. You still do, even though you know it’s pointless to try. You can’t bring yourself to look at him as you speak, finding the concrete floor more interesting, “Mean… mean me like you. Lot like.”
There’s a pause, a moment of contemplation before Mr. Silvair says, “...Not understand.”
“I know.” You reply, nodding your head once in response.
“You know?” He asks you, sounding somewhat confused, a tone you very rarely heard from the man. Had he forgotten that moment that you couldn’t seem to forget, the memory that you continuously found replaying in your mind like a broken record? It wasn’t fair, you thought, that only you were forced to hold onto such a painful memory.
“You communicate before.” You clarify, finally willing yourself to look at his face. Mr. Silvair’s expression was tight, his lips drawn into a flat line.
You needed to get away, to just run from this moment in the hopes he would forget the whole exchange just as he apparently did the last one. You take your hands and grab his wrists, removing his palms from your face before you stand up from the chair. You refuse to look at him as you turn, heading to the door as you utter, “...I’m going to go for a walk, so I’ll be back later. Goodbye.”
Then, you feel something tug at the sleeve of your raincoat. It wasn’t strong, nothing that would actually stop you from moving, but your legs proceeded to hault at the small action. Mr. Silvair says, his tone not demanding in the slightest – if anything, it sounded like a plea as he speaks, “No exit.”
You take a deep breath and turn around to face him, asking in such a small voice that it even caught yourself off-guard, “...Why?”
“I want you here.” Mr. Silvair responds quickly, so quickly it seems to have taken both of you by surprise. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he asks, finally releasing the material of your jacket from in between his fingers, “Stay… Will you stay?”
You once again find yourself wondering if Mr. Silvair was aware of the effect he had on you as a sigh leaves your mouth. You nod your head lightly and reply, “I will stay.”
“Good.” He says in response, a gentle smile on his face as he says for the second time, “I love you.”
You frown at him and shake your head, saying with a slight edge of frustration in your voice, “No speak. Not true.”
“True… Believe true.” He says quickly, reaching out to once again place a hand against your cheek. You don’t move, don’t flinch away from his touch – you still relish the way he’s holding you like a fragile piece of glass. Mr. Silvair’s brows are furrowed ever so slightly as he mutters, “Confused.”
“You’re telling me… How do you think I feel?” You say with a huff, your hand holding into his as you find yourself nuzzling your nose into his palm. The painful feeling in your chest was still present, but it wasn’t nearly as excruciating as it had been now. You find it in yourself to smile, gazing up at him as you speak, “...but we’ll get through it together – we together. Right?”
“To-geh-ther…” He repeats, leaning down to press his forehead to yours once more as he says softly, “Yes.”
#🌸 . plum writes#💌 . anon#homicipher#文字化化#homicipher x reader#homicipher x you#mr silvair#mr silvair x reader#mr silvair x you#homicipher imagines#homicipher drabbles#imagines#drabble#one shot#fluff#x reader#reader insert
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If WHB had PvP: King interactions
⟡ Masterlist ⟡
A/N: Started playing new gacha game with PvP arena and got me thinking how the kings would react to having to fight other kings or their own selves ^^
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Satan vs. Satan
"Wait, that's me?! Do I also have clones now like that fly bastard?"
"Hahaha I hope he enjoyed that as much as I did!"
"I'm not that short, c'mon!"
"Do you think that guy also has his own Sitri or do we both share him?
Satan vs. Mammon
"Who are you calling short?"
"This is what you get for taking what's mine!"
"Do you notice me now?"
"Heh, you won't see this one coming"
Satan vs. Beelzebub
"No matter how many clones he has, I'll beat him anyway"
"You stay away from my knees! Don't want a repeat of last time."
"This was the last time your clones took turns with MC!"
"After we're done here, wanna grab drinks?"
Satan vs. Leviathan
"Here's a little taste of what will happen the next time you'll try to kill MC!"
"About time someone burst that bubble of yours!"
"Time to wake up and smell the roses!"
"Who even is this guy, wanting to go back to school?"
Satan vs. Belphegor
"Man, imagine being able to sleep. Couldn't be me!"
"Oh hey, did anyone else see that corpse reanimate itself?"
"For someone who sleeps all the time, he sure does look tired."
"That guy Beleth, I could use someone like him too."
Satan vs. Lucifer
"Heh, look who just became a harmacist!"
"I wonder... if he injured me, would he also heal me afterwards?"
"When I first met him, he seemed weaker... Still, he's no match for me!"
"I heard a squeak earlier... Did I accidentally step on that tiny piss ballon?
Mammon vs. Satan
"Oh? I'm sorry, I didn't notice you down there."
"I don't mean to be rude. It seems he's very insecure about many things."
"He's like an adorable kitten when he wants to play punch."
"I like small things"
Mammon vs. Mammon
"Ah, what a strange state of affairs. I must've somehow gotten multiplied."
"If there's two of me, does that mean we must share?"
"Do I own him or does he own me?"
"So this is what it feels like to be a Beelzebub."
Mammon vs. Beelzebub
"My subjects tell me he's more in Tartaros than in his own country"
"His food is palatable with enough gold on it."
"If I recall correctly, he tried to eat one of the pillars in my castle."
"I won't hold back the next time he whisks my master away."
Mammon vs. Leviathan
"That coffin seems valuable, I shall look into it more"
"I must admit, Hades is a beautiful country."
"Leviathan could use a visit to one of many Tartaros' spas."
"He's so pale. He should go out more."
Mammon vs. Belphegor
"I do respect a country which hasn't descended into chaos with the king mostly absent."
"I shall send him some new bedsheets. Who knows when was the last time he's had them changed."
"Ahahah, I do admit you do have a very unique power!"
"Such lifestyle does look appealing, alas my country would greatly miss my presence."
Mammon vs. Lucifer
"I respect you deeply. This is nothing personal."
"If you require financial aid, do not hesitate to ask."
"I hope Buer is satisfactory in his position as a healer"
"Do you miss your father as much as I sometimes do?"
Beelzebub vs. Satan
"Huhu, you're cute trying to fight me!"
"Oh, we were fighting?"
"I'm bored, let's jump someone together!"
"Hm, I kinda want a snack now."
Beelzebub vs. Mammon
"I could use a bigger meal."
"I just heard one of the Tartaros' beaches calling me. I have to go."
"Maybe we could go visit my favorite Abyssos casinos afterwards!"
"Hm, I wonder how the pillars in his castle taste like."
Beelzebub vs. Beelzebub
"Oh hello, me!"
"I see you're handling everything here, so I'll just get going."
"If you go to that café in Gehenna, I can go to that stall with fish sweets in Hades..."
"Are you Bael or are you really me?"
Beelzebub vs. Leviathan
"Levi! Nice to see you again!"
"I wonder if he liked the last souvenir I bought him..."
"C'mon, next time I'm in Hades I'm treating you to a fish steak!"
"Sometimes I think he'd love to give me a noose around neck too."
Beelzebub vs. Belphegor
"You won't mind if I borrow Beleth for a few weeks, right?"
"Ah, how is Andrealphus doing?"
"I wish I wasn't so busy and could just lay in bed all day!"
"If only Bael was here to see how well can a country flourish without the king being around all the time."
Beelzebub vs. Lucifer
"Next time invite your angel brothers along."
"I don't need anymore shots for now."
"Another Seraphim down."
"Paradise Lost is pretty, but the smell is horrible."
Leviathan vs. Satan
"Ah, how pitiful you'd even try to mesure up to me."
"Size matters, don't you know?"
"I expected nothing less from you."
"Someday you might grow out of it."
Leviathan vs. Mammon
"A shame, truly. You seemed as a worthy ally."
"Money isn't really what matters. It's beauty."
"That palace of his is very tacky, don't you think?"
"I've won, of course."
Leviathan vs. Beelzebub
"Ugh, just please stop talking."
"You're lucky you're not one of my subjects."
"I shall end you quickly to end my suffering."
"I wish I could be back at my castle."
Leviathan vs. Leviathan
"Finally, I get to defeat myself and come as the winner!"
"Who dares to multiply me and make me compete with myself?!"
"Hm... That color doesn't seem to suit my complexion."
"I'm jealous of other people for being able to see me from such point of view."
Leviathan vs. Belphegor
"Oh, to be able to stay at home all day without being interrupted."
"My coffin is way more comfortable than that cheap bed."
"Hades is beautiful and blooming, unlike Niflheim."
"Where is this Beleth I keep hearing about?"
Leviathan vs. Lucifer
"I shall keep an eye on you at all times."
"All angels are deemed untrustworthy in my eyes."
"I will never forgive your kind for what you've done to us."
"Perhaps, you'd also like to forget your past?"
Belphegor vs. Satan
"Man, your existence's gotta be terrible..."
"Jeez, why are you so loud?"
"Anger drains so much energy..."
"Couldn't be me..."
Belphegor vs. Mammon
"Nice pillows..."
"All that gold looks uncomfortable.."
"Wonder how nice the hotels are in Tartaros..."
"Can ya get me some figures at the Hellcon?"
Belphegor vs. Beelzebub
"Ya exhaust me..."
"Tell Bael I ain't givin' Beleth to anyone.."
"Ya gotta be tired from all that runnin' 'round..."
"Ugh, I'm exhausted..."
Belphegor vs. Leviathan
"Six... I'll have ya obliterated!"
"Ya remind me of that one anime character that dies in the end..."
"Imagine putting all that work in just to look like that..."
"I wonder when they'll announce another season..."
Belphegor vs. Belphegor
"Oh?"
"Well, what in tarnation?"
"Makes me double tired..."
"Ope, am I still dreamin'?"
Belphegor vs. Lucifer
"Hospital beds ain't comfy..."
"This Hell might be big enough for the two of us..."
"Agares might need ya soon, if he don't shape up..."
"That Andrealphus, he seems hurt, check up on him, will ya?"
Lucifer vs. Satan
"Humans believe you've taken on all my wrath towards my father. Thank you for relieving me of such impure emotions."
"You. I'd expected you taller."
"I deeply apologise for all the grief my brothers have caused you."
"Morax asked me to remind you to wear your mouth guard."
Lucifer vs. Mammon
"Ah, father must've been very generous while creating you."
"I can sense a deep sadness within you..."
"If your horn stump becomes painful, my doctors can help you."
"There were many demons who required back pain treatment after carrying his riches."
Lucifer vs. Beelzebub
"I was told my brother fears you. If that is what will keep him in line, I shall support such occurence."
"That Phenomenon, what exactly is it?"
"I believe you're due in for another health check up."
"They call him wandering king and yet I have yet to see him vacation in Paradise Lost."
Lucifer vs. Leviathan
"My lord, you truly are the epitome of vanity."
"Could you please keep your servant in check, so we do not have to use spells to ensure our morgue doesn't get broken into?"
"The amount of Hades demons addmited to the hospital because of thorn injuries is great. I wonder why?"
"I am deeply sorry for all the horrible things you've been through. I should've intervened."
Lucifer vs. Belphegor
"I feel insulted to be now considered your fellow."
"I believe we do have a cure for narcolepsy, If you'd be interested."
"Beleth, that name sounds familiar..."
"That halo doesn't seem like it was your to begin with."
Lucifer vs. Lucifer
"Has... father created another copy of me?"
"Am I so easily replaceable?"
"So this is how all the other demons see me... I now understand."
"If there's two of me, I shall work twice as hard now..."
#what in hell is bad#what in “hell” is bad?#whb beelzebub#whb satan#whb leviathan#whb mammon#whb belphegor#whb lucifer
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How they react if you send a spicy picture (OPM) (+18)
Under the assumption they have a phone imagine having to email a nude asdghdksvs
(bored and horny tbh I'll figure out the other three boys later 😭)
Saitama
💛"Wow, you have no idea what I'd do for some of that right now"💛
If he didn't turn so red in the face he could probably play it off in public if he were to open it. Has definitely cracked his screen on accident over the shock/initial embarrassment of hoping no one saw that.
Always a pleasant surprise when he's alone. He's probably bored anyway. One of the best cures he could have in those moments is "excitement". Exchanging texts and nudes gets him super jittery, and he loves the addictive anticipation.
Building up self confidence slowly, but is rather shy with returning the favor. He doesn't wanna be unfair and not send any at all, but they usually are just body shots, seldom face. Muscles like that though? It's hard to get a bad angle on a body like that
Like 2 saved in gallery max. Would just rather have the real deal, but the couple he keeps is because they're generally pleasant for him to look at. Huge sucker for panties/boxer shots. They don't have to be full nudes for him to get riled up. He can confidently return his own underwear shot as well! (fucking love me a dick print pic ughhh)
Genos
🩵"Oh you're perfect. I would love to see more of that angle"🩵
Around the public he doesn't show visible embarrassment, but he's very quick to pull up his phone. That could be the only obvious tell he's looking at something he doesn't want anyone else to see.
Full attention on you for sure if you managed to send at a time when he was alone. No matter where he is he's quick to respond, but much more detail and thought is put into responses when alone.
Always will return the favor. Has a couple of his own in his gallery if he was ever out and received one. It's only fair in his eyes! They're also never basic he makes an effort to look like the prettiest boy for you and he does a damn good job. Not only is the cyborg body cool, the way he takes pictures with angles and perspectives makes it much more sexy.
Yes he saves all of them it's taking up a huge space on his phone storage that's also photos of you in general. Doesn't really have an urge to get off to the photos or texts because it's never the same or as satisfactory, but he still likes to appreciate them because you're attractive. (Lemme throw in though that he would definitely love to get riled up to your voice/phone sex. He would end up hanging up and showing up shortly if he's over excited)
Garou
🖤"fuckkkkk just you wait till I get my hands on that"🖤
Around people he doesn't get super embarrassed, and couldn't care. Will try to keep his phone close and low key as he studies your body so no one else sees what's just for him. If it's around Bang he might have a fuss or a fumble.
Might take his time to respond, but he's definitely not ignoring you. He's taking that shit in every fine detail he can see like you're a work of art. The pauses between all his messages is just him drooling over you
He'll send back, but not the full deal. Garou can make more of a game out of the tease. Loves sending pics back of his dick print through his pants (usually sweatpants yessirrrr) to show you what you just did for him. Will progress to more skin, like his abs and hem of his boxers, until you get some real nice pictures~
He's got a couple few favorites that never fail to get him off. Any shot from an angle above you will be saved definitely. Although, he ends up not getting completely satisfied taking care of it himself with pictures/texts alone. It's a last resort kind of thing if he knows he can't see you. If he knows your wear abouts, he will just show up.
#opm#one punch man#opm x reader#saitama#saitama x reader#saitama hcs#genos#genos x reader#genos hcs#garou#garou x reader#garou hcs#saitama/reader#genos/reader#garou/reader#garou n/sfw#genos n/sfw#saitama n/sfw
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oooo whichever characters you want and 57 for the writing prompts
57. Accidental hand-holding
Hi, Kat! I'm sorry it took me so long to finish this one, my writing brain kind of threw itself against the wall for a minute there. But! I have had an idea in mind from the very beginning, so I hope you like it!
"So," McCracken grinned, "I'll just let you duckies think about that for a while. Don't worry, I'll be back very soon."
With that, he shut the doors, leaving the Society in pitch blackness.
"That," Said Kate, searching for indifference and coming up with indignation instead. "was rude."
"He can't very well leave us down here in a smelly old cellar for long. Can he?" Constance's voice was losing some of its bravado.
"I'm sure they'll let us out soon," Reynie reasoned. "What good would it do to keep us here? They obviously want information, so they have to let us out sometime."
There was a pause.
"Sticky?" Constance ventured. "Are you alright? You seem... scared." She wasn't sure how to put words to the racing panic she sensed pulsing in time with her friend's heartbeat, but she knew that voicing it would make things easier.
"I'm fine." He responded stiffly.
"No," Constance said crossly, for it was easier to focus on being mad at Sticky than frightened of their situation. "You're not. Where are you?" She started feeling around in the dark.
"Constance, stop it. I'm right here." Sticky, too, reached out.
“Guys.” Reynie said, attempting to stop Constance from flailing around and hitting someone.
Kate, who could see better than the others, even in the near-total darkness they had been left in, swifty shot out her hands and grabbed Constance and Sticky’s wrists.
“Now, now, children,” She said in an overly cheerful and motherly tone, “Let us not fight. Here.” She placed Constance’s hand in Sticky’s, moved to set Sticky’s other hand in Reynie’s, and grabbed Reynie and Constance’s free hands herself.
“There.” She smiled. “Now we all know where one another is.”
And though they mightn't have said it, each of them felt some small comfort in holding another's hand. For there is something reassuring about being in contact with a friend when the whole world seems dark and fearful.
#Hoo#This got away from me a bit#BUT IT'S DONE#YEAH#I hope it is satisfactory Kat#I really wanted to do Sticky since he grabs people's hands a lot#But I thought this felt more natural?#Anyway I'll stop rambling in the tags now#asks#ask games
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How do they really see you ?
Req.
Minors dni (18+ mention's )
General reading, take what resonates , leave what doesn't
Pics and dividers not mine , credits to their rightful owners
Thank you for all the reblogs , likes and comments i appreciate it 🖤
See ya at your pile !!
Pile l . Pile ll. Pile lll.
Pile 1 .
Queen of wands , 8ofpentacles, 4ofpentacles
Hyena
They see you as helpful and relient you will pass the opportunity if you feel like others need it more ,you guys are good at guiding others you may be a teacher or you're just that friend who is able to decode easily you can read faces like a book you guys look well put together you may know what suits you and what doesn't very well . They think you get a lot of attention although you look interested in what others have to say , your mind wonders somewhere else you may have r-b-f so its hard to read to read your expressions , you're professional in a sense . you look relaxed most of the time they may see you working a lot you always seem to be focused on something, they think others bother you ,people want to talk to you but they dont respect your boundaries and they kinda feel you get annoyed when someone is interrupting you in your day to day life , they thought you were arrogant when they first met you but they've gotten used to your rbf ,they understand it was them projecting.
They think you love food and you take care of your health, they think you have good hygiene, you may style your hair or they like your hair , you respect others space ,if you say No others wouldn't force you because there's this sternness in your voice , they think you're closed off though you may interact with others you kind of hate spending too much time with others , they love whatever language you can speak i'm picking up on an accent here , they think you have a graceful presence like say there's a meeting or a party you have dressed up exactly how the dress code expect you to be , they think you are a minimalist . You are not that person who sings like they own the party there's something very ethical and well mannered.You seem to do your own thing i dont think you need help in almost anything, you can figure out things for yourself this person seems to be impressed with your qualities or persona because they're somewhat like this too and they think its a rare quality to have . They think you're more head than heart /intellectual maybe ? They dont like to think of themselves as helpless and you exactly seem to replicate that , they think people are fake these days and would stab you without a second thought , this person is not like this they are loyal until they die , either you are this gossip bee just trying to be someone you're not LMAO this person has seen you turn down others it was satisfactory, there's a lot of gossip bess here hmmm , anyway they think you dont give a shit ☠️✋🏼 although its risky and you have to give in to social pressure but you just mind your own business even though you know about the disadvantages . Yeah
They think you shouldn't be disturbed for some reason , not like you're a wild person who'll start yelling at them but they just see you enjoying your presence and being relaxed?they dont think you get excited about a lot of things like you're very Sophisticated, you dont play games . I dont know if you speak to this person but this person is down bad for your voice ,for your vocabulary like what ...???they think you're kind of cutthroat that you can hurt them with your words if they mess with you ,thry think you have anger issues but they like it 😭a bad bitch with anger issues ? yes sir ....they may have seen you lash out and they think its for everyone's good you are silent fff this person was turned on .
They think you're very sweet & cute although no one would agree with them , they seem to look for you when you're not there like they randomly start to think about you , they kinda miss you when you're not around, this person unknowingly observes you i'm seeing a vision of someone working and the other person is like 👁️👄👁️ , this person is atrracted to your essence they're addicted to your mannerisms idk who is this ...could be a boss , a friend, but they really admire you , this person is a powerful person themselves, they share a good connections with others, they're more good at understanding & convincing others than you . They think how you're are a free thinker , you love to learn about things , you guys are great advice givers ,you guys are very open and direct to the point it intimidates them , you look youthful and dress creative you have energetic boundaries they wouldn't wanna touch , you guys carry individualistic quality,you dont get easily influence by societal norms , you're not gonna follow everything the world puts out , you use your own guidance.This is someone who has gained interest in you after a long time , you may knew each other or knew of each other but you didn't really care at first , i see even if this is a platonic connection the feelings are developing, this person finds you really beautiful physically and wants to be closer but they themselves is a little aloof and doent like to get attach to anyone ,they're everyone's friend but who is actually "their" friend? This person seems be a professional, they are mindful and careful unlike pile 3's person , this person do not wear this heart on their sleeve , they are over prorective of themselves, this person is still on that stage of getting to know you , like they think a LOTT.
Song : damn is this an ex?
Thanks for reading !!
Pile ll.
Ace of pentacles, king of swords , the high priestess
Black swan
They see you as someone who'll be victorious wherever you are , you have a likeable personality and a charming aura that really draws others to you, they love your company, they love your smile the most, they love your hair , your lips , your dressing sense , your piercings, they think you ALWAYS look fabulous, they think you're a breathe of fresh air ,you light up their world , they're very grateful to have you in their life , they love to talk to you and they really look forward too .They kind of put you on a pedestal, this person really see "you" the crazy you , the childish you , the sweet you, the angry you and they love everything version of you 😭they think people are really lucky to have you , they think you have a healing presence , they see you as someone that needs to be protected you're just so kind , generous and welcoming ...they feel jealous that your energy is put there , they love your personality they love to spend time with you or they want too , you could be an introvert and they are like an open book .
This person is telling me that they feel accepted in your presence , they love your music taste, you feel s if you're their lost missing piece , your interets ate very similar,they think their inner child really flourish in your presence, i'm getting this .....when i'm with them all of my worries are taken by god kinda vibe ....they think you keep your issues to yourself and that you need to release and let go they want to help you in the process of it , you have a positive effect pn people,they think there are some people in your life who troubles you and they fucking hate that, they think you are photogenic, they love your hair , they think you're really fun to be around, you bring a lot to the table , they wanna heal & grow with you even if you lose contact someday they'll remember you as if you're there to celebrate every best thing that happened in their life , this person kind of feel pressured to do more because they see you doing so much , they're insecure and sad about something and nobody knows it and there isn't a lot of thing's that gets them excited or bring joy but you do , you may travel together, study together, you may know their family, they could be your cousin , they could be someone you have a crush on .
If this is someone not platonic & the feelings are Mutual , you should find out and openly give them hints . They think their efforts are ignored sometimes like they're that friend who do the most and they get ignored, they want to ignore you but they cant , there are some thing they dont communicate because they dont want to ruin this relationship but they really dont like others interference in your connection ,they think you ignore them when you have others company
Alright k thats it (: looking back at your reading, they seem to be someone you have helped in some way and that's why they like you so much because that was something really heavy weigh-in them down ,you helped them unknowingly or knowingly , they also seem conglict free and likeable but they dont like a lot of people thats the issue .
Your song: i love when the song matches the vibe of the reading .
Thanks for reading!!
Pile lll.
Death, the devil , the world rx
Bee
Well what do i say , the cards speak for itself + i dont get any different vibe from the original interpretation of cards
Alright let's start this is about to be confusing......this person finds you attractive, they think about you obsessively and they dont want you to know , you're a though that cross their mind and stays there forever, this is someone who is sexually attracted to you or they admire your body , they kinda have wild assumptions so stick with me ,i'm not getting toxic vibe rather a really enamoured one ,they think you are more sexually experienced than them , they compare themselves to you a lot , they think you'd up for fwb without emotional connection, this person thinks of you as a mystery they want to know "Everything" about you , you intrigue them , wouldn't be surprised if they stalk you online , this person try to hide so much its Insane , they dont want to let you know that they are interested in you they feel as though you will avoid them or you will make fun of them ? They could annoy you on purpose, this person is a little annoyed themselves, they feel stuck and they want to take action , they cant just keep fantasizing about whats not real . They want to be friends with you .
This person wants to be involved in your life and be there for " you" , they think you guys are compatible although they are more sociable than you , I'm feeling surprised because they seem to be wayy invested than they think they would be , they would analyse your mood and wonder about it , they think you dont pay much attention to them like heck you dont even seem to know them that well even though you may have known them longer than they think , this person's energy is straight up hopeless i think this is someone who gets a lot of attention and praise , they seem to have it all , they could be in a authoritive position in life , like they could own libraries or they are the big sister /brother of the family or their friends rely on them for support, they have this natural ability to make others feel secure , they are helpful and sweet , they dont like drama and they are big on action and manifestations , they are also very stubborn and wants things their way , they could fit in to societal expectations but they feel as though they put up a front and pretend to be someone else , they get drained easily and they seem to like books especially mystery books , they like to have their own space they could own a bigg ass house as well , they seem to work a lot like they're damnn busyy in their life but they still like to check up on you its their daily routine, this person has had a lot of hope from the very beginning, they kind of accepted they liked you, this person is possesive asf , it ticks them off its their insecurity. How would you recognise this person? Others see them as a fun but a disciplined person , They are the well liked cool person in their community and they are intelligent with their words , they have attractive eyes and they wear lighter colours , they are their neighbours favourite, they also dont seem very fashionable, they stick to formals and basic . Yeah , this person also think you are imaginative and artistic and they want to like your interests so bad to connect deeper with you and to make themselves familiar , they could have water placements specially pisces , i feel like they may look tough and big but as a child ??? they were just everyone's little troublemaker but also a sweetheart awwww this is so cute . Their friend circle is influential tho , they are judgemental as well hmm interesting. This could be an online connection but it doesn't have to be , you guys just don't interact that much although both of you are intrigued, this person could have a controversial past lol ,its just something about their eyes they seem like a deep thinker although they may not look like one , this person reminds me of suga from bts , you know how he's so tough on the outside like he doesn't care but he's so aware & invested about his friendsdislikes & likes , he knows them better than they think he does
ahhhh anyways this was heavy .
Your song : see i told you
Thanks for reading!!
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(Oop my shi sent before I even put the request 🙂)
Anyway....
So I had a request for Rise Donnie where it's like valentines day and reader is on their computer and then they get a notification that says their computer has been hacked then they hot the "ok" button and then it just says "i just have one question for you" then we click the "ok" button again and it says "will you be my valentines? " and then a yes and no button and every time you click the no button it jus says "please? "
Thanks!
Feel free to ignore!
And have a good day/night/afternoon/ morning or whenever you see this!
Omg! Don't worry ^^
I absolutely love this idea (ʃƪ^3^) My heart just... Fluttered, And I am so down bad for Rise Donnie (I have way too many fan Edits of him)
Please? 人.·´
[rise]Donnie x g/n reader
~ Oneshot, Fluff
人.·´人.·´人.·´人.·´人.·´人.·´人.·´人.·´人.·´人.·´
The sun had fallen, leaving only the moon's soft light. You almost couldn't tell that tomorrow was Valentine's Day.
Since you had no significant other, you planned on just playing games on your computer. You had hoped for a certain purple clad turtle to be with you on Valentine's Day
But since he had yet to ask, you ultimately lost hope.
As you woke up the next morning, you did your morning routine, brushing your teeth, washing your face
Sitting down in your chair in front of you computer, your fluffiest blanket on your shoulders, wearing your comfiest pajamas
Turning on your computer, your mouse already near where to click for your game
A glitch dawned your screen
"Your computer has been hacked" with the only option being a button that said ok
After pressing it, a question you never thought would be directed at you, popped up
"Will you be my Valentine?" With two buttons: Yes and No
At first you clicked no, because what kind of creep would hack your computer and ask you this?
By pressing no, another one showed up saying "desperate sigh, please?"
There was only one person turtle you knew that verbally expressed these sorts of things
So, you pressed yes
And confetti showed up on your screen, and a video of Donnie dancing showed up
At the sight of this, you immediately went down to the lair
You walked to the lab with purpose, and upon entering, you saw Donnie, happily squealing and dancing
You chuckled to yourself, then said "chuckle, You're so cute Don" Donnie whipped around, a bit stunned that you were there
"oh, ahem, my apologies, y/n, I was merely... Celebrating"
"Celebrating what exactly" you said with a smirk
"cough, uhm well you see, on this strange holiday, most dumdumbs would take their s/o out for dinner. However! Our celebration shall last all day!"
"oh! So I'm your significant other?"
You could tell he was holding back a blush, trying not to blow his bad boy facade
"Well... I wouldn't be against the idea, that is if you aren't" he was softer, gauging your reaction, looking for any sign of discomfort
"I would love to Don" you two closed the space, he put his hands out, as if to grab you by the waist, but stopped and looked at you "is this satisfactory?"
You giggled, realizing his nervous brain was looking for data to collect
"actually, I am extremely satisfied" he relaxed, allowing his hands to pull you close, and softly kissed you, marking the beginning of your relationship
人.·´人.·´人.·´人.·´人.·´人.·´人.·´人.·´人.·´人.·´
I hope you liked it! I tried to get it done as soon as possible >~<
I really appreciate your request! Let me know if you'd like another Oneshot of just what Donnie planned for Valentine's Day!
#bluberri writes#answered#send anons#anon ask#thanks anon!#anons welcome#tmnt donnie x reader#donnie x reader#tmnt donatello x reader#donnie tmnt#tmnt donatello#rise donnie x reader#rise donnie#rise of the tmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt donnie x reader#rottmnt donatello#rottmnt#rottmnt x reader#tmnt x reader#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles x reader#x reader#x y/n#x gn reader#x gender neutral reader
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#𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙄𝙐𝙎 𝙎𝙊𝘾𝙄𝙀𝙏𝙔/𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙏𝘼 𝙎𝙋𝘼𝘾𝙀 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 ⠿ SELF-AWARE! HERTA
✶ ! : [304 words]
✶ ! : [Warning: self-aware AU, this is very short because if i indulge myself it would be very messy, terrible writting, and written by non-fluent english speaker have mercy on me grammar officers..]
HERTA : who was not quite surprised by the fact she is inside a video game. Afterall, the universe is vast and always building itself endlessly. There are always an ample chance where her beloved universe is not actually real in the eyes of the celestial one.
: well, as a worshipper of Nous, it is appropriate for her to let her curiosity take a hold of her and ends up doing some research about you.
HERTA : might want to keep this secret by herself for awhile, however since her colleagues is also part of the genius society and they're fun to play with, of course she'll play a little guessing game with them by dropping vague hints and let little gears in their head solves it their own.
: messing with the game's codes are HERTA'S favorite. Oh? you complained about how her Simulated Universe's drops are not satisfactory? well since she is very generous, she shall increases the drop rate of those juicy double crit ornaments you've been looking for ages.
— : Hm? the event(s) related to space station is too hard? should've informed her earlier! she'll promptly decrease it's difficulty to matches your rosters' power. And oh, looks like she also increased the reward. Not by much since the game's system will detects it, leading your account to be purged and that is the last thing she ever wants!
: remember, she does not do all of this for free. Oh, ho. Don't worry, she won't ask for much. Once you descend to their world, you must let her study you. That is all, a few questions here and there then she'll let you wander somewhere else. And also do visit her ship often because it'll boost her ego even more! [ Lolol imagine Herta speaking her colleagues' ears off about how you visit her ship more often than any other place ]
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: I was supposed to write Blade's yan fic wtf am i doing. Anyway hope you enjoy this monstrosity and have a great day!
⋯ Copyright © 2024 by Illustrious-ia. Do not plagiarize, use for AI / Bot training, and re-upload outside of Tumblr.
All rights reserved.
#. ֶֶָָ֢֢ . ֶֶָָ֢֢ : ̗̀➛ ֶֶָָ֢֢ ♤ ♧ ♡ ♢ ֶֶָ֢ . ֶֶָָ֢֢ . ֶֶָָ֢֢ . ֶֶָָ֢֢#♧ ֶֶָָ֢֢ 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐫’𝐬. 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡#guys i might burned down the damn kitchen#idk what i was writing#herta#herta hsr#herta honkai star rail#herta x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr drabbles#self aware au#self aware hsr#self aware honkai star rail au#sahsrau#self aware x reader#self aware herta#sahsrau herta#honkai star rail#hsr
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I was wondering if you could make a part 2 to "the instrument"? I got invested reading it was so sad that it ended :(
I don't rlly know what I'm looking for but I loved the plot of that fic and I wanted to see it progress further (´;д;)
Like, it js ended with him giving her flowers, I wanted to see their love bloom more yknowww ಥ_ಥ
(Also is it weird that I see y/n as her own person?)
── THE COMPASS
Synopsis: You were right from the start — Michael Kaiser has always been a dog, albeit perhaps not in the way you first meant it. (part one here!)
BLLK Masterlist
Pairing: Kaiser x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 4.5k
Content Warnings: fake dating trope, mentioned/implied/referenced abuse (both child and animal), call me tabito karasu the way i assassinate kaiser’s character in this, relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…
A/N: EEK i feel like kaiser is so hard for me to do romance with but i tried my best!! and LMAOO this y/n is definitely a very interesting one so i can see why you got that sense 😭 but i’m glad you liked the instrument and ty for requesting 🥹 i hope this is somewhat satisfactory??
Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!
You are quite certain that your mother was involved in this exercise, considering she’s the only one you can think of with a spare key to your house. So, when your phone call to Michael is sent immediately to voicemail, you don’t hesitate in dialing her number, knowing she’ll pick up immediately, as she always does.
The phone rings only once, and then she’s answering. There are voices in the background that are faint and muffled, which means either she’s watching a new drama or your father is watching some sports game. Then you detect the faint sound of cheers, and you conclude it must be the latter.
“Hello, Y/N,” your mother says. “Did you need something?”
She is very obviously trying to maintain an air of mysteriousness, as if she has no idea why you might be calling her, but the fact that she is putting on such an act makes it all the more obvious that it is just a facade. You’ve known for many years that your talent onstage is not a genetic one, though it does not stop your parents from pretending that it’s something you inherited from them.
“The flowers,” you say. “You put them there, didn’t you?”
She coughs. You don’t know if she’s disguising a laugh or if she’s just taken aback to that extent. Either way, you give her a moment to compose herself, for it’ll be a mess if you don’t. Your mother is like that, after all. If you inundate her with questions, she’ll respond to exactly none of them, so patience is the only method you have if you wish to obtain any measure of success.
“It wasn’t my own doing,” she says finally. You sigh.
“Of course, someone told you to, and I’m sure we both know who,” you say. “What did he say?”
“He meant well,” she says. “Are you angry with him? He seemed to think you might be. Anyways, he just told me to give them to you. It’s his way of saying sorry, I think. Or perhaps of saying something else. I’m afraid I can’t understand him the way you do. It’s magical, really, how you all but read his mind…”
“No one can read his mind,” you scoff. “He’s a convoluted man, and his thoughts are his own.”
“And you despise him because of that?” she prods, in a way that indicates she already knows the answer and is only asking for her personal satisfaction.
“I love him all the more for it,” you say shortly. Somehow, it’s worse saying it to your mother than it was with him. More real, maybe. Unable to be taken back. You don’t want to take it back, of course, but nevertheless, even if you did, you no longer can. It’s out in the world, now, and the world has a strange humor; it takes things one says even carelessly, without thought, and it turns them into undeniable, inescapable truth.
“Well,” she says. “That is a predicament.”
“There’s no predicament,” you say.
“He believes there is,” she says. “Right before he left, he—”
“Left?” you repeat. The flowers on your counter are arcing towards the sun, their petals unfurling towards the light pouring from your window. It’s a behavior more typical of flowers other than roses, but these roses are blue and they are Michael’s, so it stands to reason that they behave peculiarly. “Where did he go?”
“I couldn’t tell you,” she says. “He didn’t mention where he was going, just that he had to leave for a bit. But he looked sad. I mean, it’s difficult to tell with him, given how stoic he is, so I don’t know. Don’t take me at my word and start a fight about it.”
This is all you’re going to get out of her. You’re sure of it; there’s a wavering to her voice that signals she’s out of her depth. It’ll be unproductive and all but cruel if you continue to drill her, so you grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut and counting to three in your mind. Frustration is a wasted emotion, especially when the target of your frustration is somewhere far away, gone with nothing but a pot of flowers as a farewell.
That’s what it really is. Not an apology or a confession, but a goodbye. The fact that he thought to do it does mean something, but that meaning doesn’t outweigh the intention. So you make meaningless small talk with your mother and then your father, who she passes the phone to, and as soon as you can, you hang up and call another person, one who might be your only chance at finding the wandering stray that is Michael Kaiser.
Michael doesn’t really have friends, claims he doesn’t need them, but if there is one man who he might deign to bestow that title upon, it is his Bastard München teammate, Alexis Ness. They have been playing together since they were young, and so, if anything, there is an empathy between the two, although Michael will never admit it.
You’ve only met Alexis Ness a few times, at the various events which Michael used to drag you to when your relationship was still in the public eye. He’s never been anything but polite, albeit reserved, and on your third meeting, he gave you his phone number, telling you to call him if you ever ran into trouble. He had left the with Michael unsaid, but the implication had been there. You had thanked him and never called him since.
He’s quick to respond, like he was expecting the call — for all you know, he really was, though you would never ask either way. However, he does not speak first, so there is an awkward pause as you both wait for the other to say something.
“Good morning, Mr. Ness,” you say once a minute has gone by and he still has said nothing. “This is Y/N L/N. You gave me your number once.”
“Ah, Kaiser’s girlfriend,” he says. They have this habit, those soccer players, of referring to each other solely by last name. Your theory is that it’s to create distance, to avoid becoming close to a person who can be stolen by another team at any moment. You can’t fathom any other explanation. It’s a little sad to you, but you try not to judge, because there’s as many or more judgements that can be passed about your own lifestyle and habits.
“Yes,” you say.
“Are you calling to ask me where he went?” he says.
“I am,” you say. There’s no point in games. You don’t know Alexis Ness well enough to play them, and he seems to appreciate candidness, so the both of you are blunt in your conversations.
“I’m not supposed to tell you,” he says. “He swore me to secrecy.”
“I see,” you say. It’s disappointing, but it doesn’t come as a surprise. Michael is more than a little paranoid, so of course he took these ridiculous measures to cover his tracks.
“Nothing against you,” he says. “In fact, you should take it as a compliment. It sounded like there’s some messes he needed to clean up before he could bear to face you.”
“He’s horrible at cleaning,” you say.
“I don’t mean literal cleaning,” he says. It’s patient but also mocking. You roll your eyes, a silent form of retribution that he’ll never know of.
“Neither do I,” you say. Alexis Ness exhales heavily. Perhaps you’ve given him a migraine. It’s a particular skill of yours, or so you’ve been told.
“Berlin,” he says.
“Berlin?” you say.
“That’s where he is. If he asks, I’m not the one who told you,” he says, and then he’s ending the call before you can even thank him.
Berlin’s a big city, so Ness’s advice isn’t as helpful as he might’ve thought it would be, but at least it’s a start. Besides, for all his idiosyncrasies, Michael has a few patterns he follows with religiosity, so you tell your agent you’re going on a trip and silence your phone before he can call you and sputter protests about the impromptu nature of the semi-vacation.
The volunteers at the dog shelter tell you that Michael’s been there for the majority of the day. They’ve left him alone because they don’t know what to say; it’s not everyday that a celebrity wanders into such an establishment without so much as a word, and he’s remained relatively harmless, so they’ve continued about their daily business, ignoring him as best as they could when it became obvious he had no interest in speaking to them.
When you enter the kennel room, you find him sitting in front of one with a large hound in it. It has a pointed muzzle, and its tail does not wag at your approach, but it does lift its head and blink at you a couple of times before going back to sleep.
The cement floor is cold, but still you sit beside Michael, hugging your knees to your chest in a mirror of his position, careful not to touch him, thinking that he is wild enough to flee if you do. The hound lets out a soft breath. You notice that there are pink lines cutting through the black of its fur, marring its wide torso, shiny as the skin does its best to heal.
“She was seized from her owner,” Michael says. “The neighbors called the police one night when things got too loud.”
He’s not looking at you, but it’s obvious you’re the one he meant that statement for, so you shift closer to him, placing one hand on his arm. He flinches the tiniest bit, but when you try to pull away, he reaches up and stops you, holding your hand there, though he still refuses to turn away from the dog.
“Apparently, the guy got drunk and beat her,” he says. “She belonged to his wife, but once his wife died, he became an alcoholic, and that poor dog was the only one there to see it. I’m sure she tried to keep loving him at first, though. Even when she was frightened. Dogs do their best to love you, because they can’t understand that no matter how hard they try, it doesn’t matter. If someone wants to hate them, then all of the love in the world won’t be enough to stop that.”
He’s talking about the dog, but that’s not what he really means. That’s just how he is: he speaks in circuitous riddles to avoid ever saying anything plainly. Flowers and dogs — both are just methods of avoiding what he really wants to tell you.
“We can take her home,” you say. “Give her a different name and a place where she can be happy. Even if something has been hurt before, that doesn’t mean it has to hurt forever.”
His eyes lower, and then he stands, yanking you to your feet. Steadying you when you stumble, he lets go of you abruptly, frowning and turning away from the dog, who is awoken by the suddenness of the movement, flattening her ears against her head and shrinking back.
“She’s frightened of men now,” he says. “Has been ever since she was rescued. Bites every male that comes near her. I can’t blame her. If I were her, I’d do the same. Apparently, that means she’s not really adoptable. Not by us and not by anyone.”
The dog whines plaintively. You offer her the back of your hand through the bars of the kennel. She sniffs it before licking it carefully, and then she thumps her tail against her bed in approval — only one time, though, and then she’s standing, pacing in unhappy circles around the small kennel, which can hardly fit an animal of her size.
“I want her,” you say. “I don’t care if she isn’t adoptable. I want her.”
“Of course you do,” he says. He would sound aggravated, but there is a curious delight dancing in his eyes, a childish sort of joy that so rarely sparkles in those blue irises, so he completely doesn’t. “Of course you want her. You can’t stay away from hurt things, can you? Who told you I was here?”
“No one,” you say. “I figured it out by myself.”
He purses his lips, following after you as you make your way to the front desk. Disapproval rolls off of him in waves, but also something else. Something shriveled and cowering which is fighting desperately to crawl to the surface.
The volunteers are surprised to hear which dog you insist on taking, and they try to convince you to look at any of the more appealing ones — the puppies, or the well-trained retrievers that already have waitlists of potential adopters. You’re an actress, however, so they’ll put you at the top and give you whichever one you want. You tell them you know which one you want already, and eventually they give up on arguing, only frowning as you sign the litany of documents they produce, clicking their tongues and telling you that she’ll be difficult.
You respond that it’s fine. You’re used to difficult things; in fact, you think that you prefer them. They shake their heads and then you are told that your dog — yours, miraculously she is yours — will be ready for you to get her whenever you want.
Michael’s business in Berlin is not yet completed, you can sense it, so you tell them that you will return later and then you chase after his disappearing back, catching him by the sleeve of his coat in a narrow alleyway which leads to a theater.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he says. He’s gazing at a poster with a woman on it; she’s beautiful, with elfin features and flowing hair the color of gold. She’s also someone you recognize. “Fuck Ness. I know he told you. I’m going to kill him when I get back.”
“Leave him alone,” you say. “He didn’t tell me anything.”
“Sure,” he says. “Whatever.”
“Do you know her?” you say, pointing at the woman.
“Do you?” he shoots back. He’s crabby now, snapping easily and readily, though you’ve not really done anything to provoke him.
“Yes,” you say. It’s not the answer he had predicted, which you can tell because he whirls to glare at you instead of the movie poster. “Why are you surprised? We’re in the same industry. I was almost in a movie with her a while back, though it fell through because of an issue with the writers. She’s nice enough, I guess. I went to her wedding a couple of years ago, but other than that, I wouldn’t say we’re particularly close.”
“You…went to her wedding?” he says, and then, inexplicably, his fingers are weaving in between yours. It feels like he is holding onto you for something more than affection, so you stand as still as you possibly can, only humming in agreement.
“Yes, I did. Actually, she married her childhood sweetheart, which took everyone by surprise. It was commonly thought that she’d marry one or another of her costars, you see. She’s always been good at creating chemistry…people always say that she can make even a rock seem desirable, that’s how she is,” you say wistfully, leaning your head on his shoulder. He doesn’t shove you away, enraptured by the story. “It’s amazing to watch. But isn’t it kind of sweet? That despite how excellent she is at feigning affection, how she could’ve had any man in the world, she chose the boy from her youth? I remember talking to him. He has nothing, no money or connections or investments. She really just married him because he loves her for who she is.”
“Is love really all she wanted?” he says.
“I suppose it’s all that a lot of people want,” you say. “Rumor has it that she's pregnant.”
He stiffens against you. “What?”
“Well, I think she’s a little old for it, but it’s common for women in my line of work to wait until the signs of age are beyond concealment before they have children, so it’s not a shock,” you say.
“Why?’ he says.
“It’s the industry’s standards—” you begin before he cuts you off.
“No,” he says. “No, why is she — why does she want — why is she pregnant?”
“Isn’t it common for people to start a family eventually?” you say. “By the way, you never answered my question. Do you know her?”
“She’s my mother,” he says. The words are angry, but his tone is forlorn, his hand in yours cold and small. “But I’m — I’m not her son.”
He looks so wretched that you cannot help embracing him, and when he reciprocates in earnest and without pretense, you know that you have done the right thing. His breaths are fast and shaky, though he is not crying, and as much as you wish you had not said it, you believe deep down that it is important that you did.
Platitudes are meaningless. If you say it’s okay or something along those lines, you will be a liar, because the truth is that it’s not okay. You are not the one who can decide if it’s okay or not. You can only remain as you have been, motionless and gentle, stroking his back in the way one settles a restless infant, allowing his fingers to dig into your sides and his looming weight to collapse into you — for his sharpness is not borne of malice but helplessness, however loath to admit it he might be.
“Why?” he whispers. There’s a million questions he could be asking, and none of them are ones you can ever answer for him, but that will not stop him. “Why couldn’t it be me? Why couldn’t she be happy with me? I would have loved her. I would have been her family.”
“A lot of people don’t deserve children,” you muse. “Or love, or many other such happinesses. And still more people cannot understand the importance of these things when they are within their grasp. Your mother must’ve been very young when she had you. It’s easy to be blinded by stardom and glamor and fairytales at that age. It’s easier still to abandon everything for just a taste of the spotlight. There’s a school of thought that fame is impossible to attain without that necessary sacrifice.”
“What about you?” he says.
“I’m not an exception,” you say ruefully. “Any normal person would have hung up on you when you first called, Michael. I’m only lucky in that it was you and not anyone else on the other end of the line. It’s only because I know you that I realized there are more important things in this world than celebrity and popularity. Once I would’ve spurned the thought of obscurity, but now, if I can have you, then I wouldn’t even mind it so much. It’s the same conclusion your mother must have reached.”
“It’s too late,” he says. “She reached it too late.”
“Yes,” you say. “Yes, she did reach it too late, but it’s easier to give this kind of life up once you’ve known it than to never have it at all. That’s the only reason why. She was greedy, and you bore the consequences.”
“It’s not fair,” he says. You’ve never heard him like this. Normally, he’d laugh at the mere thought of such vulnerability, but the gray of the city has clearly twisted him into a wounded and fragile version of himself, prone to shattering, made of a glass that is already jagged at the edges and can hardly keep together because of it. “It’s not fair, it’s not — I hate her, and I hate him, and I hate her stupid new family, and I —I—”
He silences himself, obviously unsure of what to say, and then he holds your face in his hands, giving you a pleading stare. Help me, he seems to beg. Tell me what to do. He is lost, and somehow you have become a map of sorts, or a compass, one which points in a direction he has no choice but to follow.
“Why did you come here?” you say. “When you knew it would hurt you, why did you come?”
“I wanted to remind myself,” he says. “For a second, you even convinced me that I was worthy of being — you know. So I had to come back. I had to see with my own eyes the kind of person I really am. If my mother and my father and my entire damn city hate me, then why should you be any different?”
He’s scared that he will hurt you, and that you will hurt him, and that he will be alone again, as he has been for much of his life. For all his brashness, his bravado, his smugness and his smooth way of speaking in public, he’s never really been anything more than a little boy who’s frightened, who presses against the back wall of his enclosure like that beaten hound did.
“You know that I am different,” you say. “I am not your mother, nor your father. I will leave everything behind but you. In fact, I’ll leave it for you. Tell me to and I will.”
“What if I tell you to quit acting?” he says.
“Then I will retire at once,” you say. “I already have more money than I know what to do with.”
“And if I tell you to move across the world?” he tries, resting his forehead against yours. “Would you do that, despite your entire life being here?”
“Yes,” you say. “I am quick at making friends and learning new things, so I will adapt to it.”
“What about if I tell you to marry me?” he says. His lips are so close to yours that he is speaking against your mouth, but he doesn’t try to kiss you yet.
“You wouldn’t ask?” you say.
“I don’t ask for things,” he says.
“Naturally, I’d marry you,” you say. “There isn’t anyone else I’d ever want, anyways. We’d have the most beautiful wedding in the world, and we’d only invite the people we like.”
“That’s a short list,” he says. His heartbeat is calming down; it’s a temporary solution, but if it manages to distract him, then you’ll indulge the flight of fancy.
“My parents,” you say.
“Ness,” he says.
“I always knew you liked him,” you say.
“Only because I have to,” he says.
“Anyone else?” you say.
“No,” he says. “That’s it. We can even forget about all of those people, actually. I just want it to be the two of us. Nobody else matters but — but you.”
He’s stuttering as he comes to his senses. These declarations aren’t typical of him, as foreign as French on his tongue, but he’s making them anyways. He’s been fighting the compulsion for a while, you can tell, but it’s hard for him to keep fighting on all fronts of his life. Eventually, one side will give. You are glad that it is your side, that you are the one he has given to, no matter how reluctantly he has done it.
“Is there anything else you’d like?” you say. “All of these are easy for me to do. Ask for something difficult, so that I may prove to you that I am telling the truth, that I mean what I say.”
“It’s not a request, but a condition,” he says.
“You only need to name it,” you say.
“If I hurt you, then you have to run,” he says. “Run so far away that I can never reach you. Even though it’ll hurt me, I want you to run. Even though I’ll beg for you to stay, please leave.”
That’s it, then. The most difficult thing he can imagine a person doing: leaving someone they love. Certainly he is unable to do it. It doesn’t matter if he’s suffering. He’ll suffer longer just to stay by your side, just as he suffered for all of those many years as a child.
It’s how you know he loves you more than he’ll ever let on. He holds you in such esteem that he’ll let you leave him if you have to, though it’ll indubitably destroy him, destroy him more than staying could ever destroy you. Yet still he is giving you that permission, commanding it, even, because he’d rather destroy himself than let even the slightest harm befall your being.
You can only draw that conclusion because you know that he will never, can never, hurt you. He isn’t saying this as a warning, because it isn’t an inclination that he has. No, it’s a dark and ugly voice in the back of his mind — does it sound like his father’s? You feel that it must — insisting that he will do it, he will. He’ll hurt you. He’s the reason that his mother left and his father became something sick, and he’ll be the reason that you are broken and ruined and torn apart. He’ll do it. He’ll be the one to do it, it’s inevitable, he’ll scratch you with his thorns and gnaw at your remains with his fangs and maybe he’ll even cry during the act but he’ll still do it.
“Alright,” you say, though you want to protest that he is incapable, because it’s clear that he is testing you. Every argument which might fall from your lips, he has heard before, and if you dare utter them one more time, it’ll be the proof that you are lying. The way his thoughts work, the paths that they follow, they are winding and narrow, but perhaps your mother is right — perhaps you are coming to understand them.
“Do you think that I can?” he says.
“No,” you say. “The fact that you worry about it tells me that you won’t. You are better than that, Michael.”
“You really believe that?” he says. “With everything you are, you believe it?”
“I do,” you say.
You almost can’t believe it, but he laughs. Well, calling it a laugh is generous, it’s really more of an exhale, yet one which is unquestionably seeping with amusement, and you’re about to ask him what he finds so funny when he was so close to breaking down mere moments earlier, but he stops you before you can.
“I do,” he says. It’s an odd thing to repeat, but a second later your mind registers why he’s done it, and then the corners of your lips are curving up.
In the streets of Berlin, the two of you are alone; his mother’s poster is your only witness, but if she takes some offense, she remains smiling and silent, her gaze far away as her son — who isn’t her son, he isn’t hers at all, he’s yours and only yours — finally closes the minuscule gap between you both and kisses you fully.
#kaiser x reader#kaiser x y/n#kaiser x you#michael kaiser#bllk x reader#bllk#blue lock#reader insert#fake dating#m1ckeyb3rry requests#m1ckeyb3rry writes
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how would scissoring/tribbing be with ellie😮💨🙏🏼
amazing. broo. if we're talking a soft!dom ellie, I think she'd first prefer you to be on top– purely cause she can guide you with ghosty touches/ barely even touch you but hover her hands over your hips like she's going to. kinda like making sure you can do it good but doesn't wanna overstep. until~ she catches you lacking and struggling to keep a steady pace, respiring through short gusts and sloppy thrusts, brows digging close together in frustration and she just, "babe, lie back," in the softest–satiny voice her range can rove off her already nasally tone. can u tell I'm obsessed with her voice? anyways, she adds on, "i got it, i got it~ g'nna make you feel so damn good, just relax baby." while waxing her fingers through the side of your scalp, palm resting easy on your cheek.
rough!dom / horndog!ellie tho.. uhh.. yeah no. immediately she's on top. and her hips play a mean game. pumps so good at one moment, scissoring your sticky labia open and gliding a circle shape with her pelvis on your clit. coos a grumbly, "pussy feels s'good– but tell me, what's better. my cock, or m'pussy? hmm? one answer babe." while branding bowed shapes in your asscheeks with her shallow talons. then, right when you're about to spill over and release, her hips either halt or lift off completely. she marvels in the way you get all grumpy and beck your hips in chase of hers, only egging her to back away. also is more likely to do it in risky situations!! hope this is satisfactory, anon 😫😫my brains dying
my complimentary pics of ellies back I took (no cuz her back would flex and look so hot while bashing her pussy on yours lbr)
#ellie williams#⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras asks#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x fem!reader#ellie williams fic#ellie tlou#ellie x reader#lesbian#sapphic#ellie williams concept#ellie williams headcanons#dom!ellie#horndog!ellie
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